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#i’ve never been more upset to have been right
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I'd Answer
You've been gone. Azriel's been broken. Something has to change, and Azriel would do anything.
Part 2 of If You Cared to Ask
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“This is for you,” Mor huffed, plopping down a small bouquet of roses onto the growing garden that seemed to have sprouted on the table. “What is that, number twelve?” 
“I don’t know, I don’t count them,” you brushed off, your gaze falling on the gifts for a fleeting moment.
Mor hummed. “Are they doing anything for you?” 
“Not particularly.” 
Your friend shuffled into the small sitting room and gracefully landed in the chair beside yours, her eyes piercing a hole in the side of your head when you refused to look up. She sighed, and then sighed again, making a show of slotting her chin in her palm and looking forlorn. 
The third sigh was your breaking point. 
You placed your book on the table and turned to Mor with your brows raised. “Yes?” 
“Oh, nothing,” she airily replied. “I was just wondering when you were going to give this up. You don’t have to forgive the guy, but at least put me out of my misery and let me tell him where you’re staying. I’m basically a delivery service at this point. He says sorry again, by the way.” 
“Oh, well in that case—” 
“More than just sorry, but I can’t remember everything he said. It was all rambly and his face was all gaunt.” Mor pressed her fingers up to cover her eyes. “I’m not even sure if he’s eating. Rhys had to stop sending him out because he almost fell out of the sky.”
“Is this supposed to make me feel bad?”
You hoped your ruse was believable because hearing that Azriel was doing so poorly did make you feel bad. Your heart lept up to your throat at the prospect of your mate falling from the sky from exhaustion. But he had had so many opportunities to make this right and you weren’t about to give up your anger so easily. 
Mor offered a sad expression that looked authentic this time. “Y/n, he loves you. He’s an idiot and the whole lot of them are mindless fools, but Azriel has never loved anything the way he loves you.” 
“Yeah, I’m sure,” you snorted. “And he shows that love by forgetting me and then arguing when I’m clearly upset over it?” 
“I know. He told me how much of an ass he’s been. But, I promise you, I’ve known Azriel for a long time. He was just—just handling everything with Rhys poorly. He felt so so guilty when Rhys got trapped. You know that.” 
You bit the inside of your cheek and avoided Mor’s gaze. “I know.” 
The lack of vitriol in your tone had Mor perking up. “And you remember how hard he tried to get him back—how broken he was when Rhys sent out his last message. Az feels responsible for everything when it comes to his family.”
You didn’t need the reminder. The tortured way he carried himself over the past 50 years was evidence enough of the truth behind Mor’s words. And you had been there to soothe that pain, to help run the court that Rhys left behind. 
When silence persisted, Mor craned her neck to catch your gaze. “I’m not saying what he did was right, but you know he’s been in overdrive since Rhys returned. He goes off on those missions when Rhys calls, but… y/n, he only leaves without notice when his informants…” 
Mor trailed off. 
Your gaze finally flickered up. “When?” 
Mor bit her lip and winced. “He told me not to tell you this part. He said he didn’t want you to think he was making excuses.” 
“Tell me anyways.” 
“Fine. But you can’t rat me out.” Mor sighed and leaned back in the chair, still facing you. “He does go on every mission Rhys proposes, and that’s… stupid, but he tells you about those ones, I think. When he just up and leaves, it’s because—y/n, it’s because they're about you. You know there’s a slew of people that want you dead for your involvement up in Illyria. He has a team of informants with the sole purpose of listening for you name.
“He goes on Rhys’s missions because he doesn’t want his family separated again, but sometimes, it’s because he just wants to protect his mate.” 
A stone dropped past your ribs and into your stomach. “But, he never told me—” 
“You know these overgrown bats think that suffering in silence is an honorable thing to do,” Mor rolled her eyes. “They overwork themselves fighting the good fight or whatever and seem to forget that the rest of the world is still out there, facing the consequences of their actions. And… I think he just wanted you to feel safe. I think he’s been scared.” 
Something sickly climbed its way up your consciousness. You looked down at your hands as they rested in your lap. 
You hadn’t seen Azriel in six days, and each day had more anger coursing through you, building up a wall that you thought impenetrable. Because you were so angry; Azriel had disappointed you time and time again, left you feeling abandoned and alone, and then he got defensive about it as if you were the one at fault. 
Part of you always knew it was a defense of some sort, but you had thought it a defense of something nefarious. You had tossed around the idea of infidelity a few times, and that rivaled the thought of him simply falling out of love with you. 
But it was this. 
It was him hiding how hard he’d been trying to protect you—however idiotic his tactics may have been. 
“You can tell him where I am,” you murmured clenching your fingers into your palm. “And leave the door unlocked, I guess.” 
Mor had left the small apartment on the outskirts of Velaris before you finished your sentence. 
It took approximately 7 minutes for a tentative knock to sound at your door. 
Mor had left it unlocked, but there was still a knock. 
You took a glance at the pile of flowers on the table before heading to the front door. The old floorboards creaked under your feet, a reminder of the rundown apartment you had sought out after you left. It was a frantic process, searching for a place to stay; you hadn’t cared much for luxury or comfort.  
Opening the door was jarring. Azriel’s wings were half-raised as if he’d just flown down and then forgot how to control them. His face was pallid with dark smudges beneath his eyes. His hair was windswept, expected from the flight, but it looked tugged at and disheveled beyond that. 
“Hi.” 
Maybe you’d been looking him over too long because Azriel’s voice cracked at the single word. He sounded unsure, verging on afraid, and all you had done was pass over his figure with your eyes. 
You tightened your grip on the door handle. “Um, hi.” Your tone was harsher than you meant it to be. 
Azriel flinched. “I’m sorry, Mor said…” 
“No, I—Come in.” 
You stepped back and pushed the door open to accommodate his hesitant steps into your rental. Azriel stood in the middle of the space and wrung his hands as you shuffled behind him, a slight tremor showing in his fingers. You leaned back against the door with your own hands pressed at the small of your back. You watched Azriel’s lingering gaze trail over the flowers in the corner of the room. 
“You didn’t like them?” he meekly asked. 
Something inside of you hurt. 
“They were okay,” you answered. “But I didn’t want flowers.” 
Azriel nodded and his lashes fluttered shut. His hands twitched. 
“I’m sorry—for the flowers, I mean. They were a pathetic reason to send Mor to you. You wanted to be left alone.” 
“I did not want to be left alone, Azriel.” You kicked away from the door, bringing your arms across your chest for some form of protection. “I wanted you. I wanted you to care about me.”
“I do,” Azriel stressed. He took a step forward and the wood beneath his boot creaked. “I do, y/n.  I care about you more than anything—I love you.” 
“Then why couldn’t you show me? Why did it take me leaving, me getting hurt, for you to finally listen to me and see how much I’ve needed you?” 
Your chest was heaving, each word from your lips a choked gasp. Azriel took all of it and absorbed your full meaning, seeming to wince at every insinuation that he didn’t love you. His jaw quivered and he opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. 
“Why did you stop talking to me?” you asked, a broken rendition of your anger. “Why—Mor told me… She told me things. Things that make sense. But why does it feel like I don’t matter to you?” 
“My love,” Azriel stressed. Yearned. He rushed forward, abandoning all reservations and gathering you into his arms as tears began making headway down your cheeks. “I’m so sorry, baby. I can’t—I’m so so sorry.” His words were almost lost against your temple as he held you, each apology a whisper of a kiss against your skin. 
“You weren’t there and Devlon—he—” 
“I know, angel, I know and I’m so sorry. Had I known… Had I listened.” He pulled you back from his chest, crouching down to meet your eye and wiping tears from your cheeks. “All I’ve ever wanted to do was keep you safe. I thought I was doing that. I don’t know what Mor told you—” 
“She told me everything. She told me you’ve been following leads about me and taking on too much. She told me you’re scared.” 
Azriel breathed and it sounded anguished. “I am terrified. We lost Rhysand and now you are in the throes of a society that almost killed me. I—I wake up every morning and everything is good and I am so afraid to lose that. I thought I was protecting you, protecting us. But I almost lost you and—” 
You let out a breathy cry. “You could never lose me, Azriel.” 
He pressed his forehead to yours, the wetness of his cheeks now apparent. Azriel’s hands were firm on either side of your head and his fingers laced up into your hair. 
Gods, you missed him. 
You missed him and everything hurt. 
“I’ll do better. I’ll be better. Just please—please, don’t leave again. Please come home. Let me fix this.”
The want was overwhelming. It would be so easy to say yes, but it would be just as easy for nothing to change. 
“You can’t do that again, Azriel,” you stressed, shaking your head and causing your mate to draw back. Only a breath was left between you. “You have to tell me what’s going on. You can’t—you can’t leave me in the dark. You can’t make me feel like that.”
Azriel’s head shook in desperation. “I won’t. I promise I won’t.” 
“I need to know I can rely on you—trust you.” 
“You can, angel.” 
“I need to know that you love me.” 
A pained sound escaped Azriel’s throat. He licked his lips and reaffirmed his hold on your face, locking his eyes with yours in a beseeching gaze. 
“I love you more than life itself, angel. I couldn’t breathe when you were gone. I can’t believe I made you think that I don’t. You are my life. Let me show you. Please, let me show you.”
You tracked your eyes between both of his. “Okay, Azriel.” 
“I’m going to keep you safe.”
“I am safe.” 
“I love you.” 
"I know you do, Az. I know."
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luveline · 2 days
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Hi!!
Could a please request Peter Parker x reader where they’ve been together for a while and discuss family planning? Like they want to start a family together but both have anxieties for different reasons with Peter being Spider-Man and just general nerves at this being a big step and they comfort one another?
If you get round to this then thank you!!!
thank you for requesting! fem, 1k
“But you’re Spider-Man.” 
Peter doesn’t know how you ended up like this, his face at your feet, his feet past your head in his pillows. Your toes wiggle in your socks unthinkingly. 
“I’m Spider-Man.” 
“How are we s’posed to have a baby if you’re a superhero?” 
You ask it without malice; you aren’t telling him to do one thing or another, you’re just posing a simple question. Or, not so simple. Thinking about it provokes a hundred different questions, and he gets your point. How can he be a father if he’s a superhero, half the time? How can he expect you to sign on to motherhood while he risks his life? 
He has to prove that he can do it without getting hurt. Without getting anyone hurt. 
“I’ve been Spider-Man for a long time,” he says softly. 
You pretend to drop your foot on his face. He laughs and curls into you, an arm around your leg like a wonky cuddle. “And it gets more dangerous every year.” 
“I would… being Spider-Man is…” Peter noses at your leg. Your pyjama pants are hiked up near your knee, leaving a calf open for his mouth to brush against. “I’m Spider-Man,” he says again. That’s the simplest explanation. He just is Spider-Man. “But I would change things. I already have, I mean, I have you to think about now.” 
“I just don’t know if I’d be okay with having a baby, if you might die.” 
Peter sits up. He frowns. “I’m not going to die.” 
You just nibble your lip. 
“Is that something you worry about?” 
You sit up to meet him. “Of course I do.” 
He’s thankful you’re close. He takes your hand, turning your wedding ring to see the stone laid at the apex. You used to worry so much it would make you sick, and he changed to make that easier on you, because he loves you. What was the point in getting married if he was gonna leave you in agony every time he left the house? Newspapers scorned a more careful Spider-Man, and Peter has had to make some hard calls. He can’t be selfless anymore —he thinks about you every time he throws a new web. 
He didn’t realise you were still worried. “When was the last time I got hurt?” 
“Last night.” 
He winces. “Alright, when was the last time I got hurt enough to need medical attention?”
“Last Tuesday.” 
“Bub, that was one finger, it healed in two hours.” 
“But if you were a normal guy, it would’ve been weeks.” You aren’t out to torture him, or argue, your lips puckered for a quick kiss as he pulls you toward him. “I’m just saying,” you murmur, tapping his nose, your eyebrow pressed against his, “if you want a baby with me? You’re gonna have to give up even more. Okay?” 
“Okay,” he says immediately. 
Okay. Because he’s Spider-Man, and it means everything to him, but he’s your husband. This is your life together. 
“I want a baby with you,” he says, a murmur to match your own as his hands wrap around your waist. He drags you forward, your faces still smushed together. “I want kids, and you want them too, and I want you to have everything. So if you need me to change, I can change. I can’t stop, but I can make it work.” 
“You’d have to stop sometimes–”
He leans away and cups your shoulder. “I know. I’m not gonna get you pregnant and go out every night.” 
“Just every other.” 
“No, no,” he insists softly. “Bub, listen to me. If you’re ready, then I’m ready. No messing around. I’m your partner, right? I’m your husband before I’m Spider-Man.” 
“Are you sure?” you ask. 
Peter’s not mad, but he’s a little upset you’d think so. He’s not trying to make you feel this way. He wants you to have total confidence in him, and your potential future family.
“You need me to tell you that? I’ve never been more sure about anything.” 
He doesn’t need you to agree to a baby tonight or anything, he just wants you to be happy with him. So he tells you emphatically that you’re his world. You already know why he’s Spider-Man, the responsibility that drives him, but there’s responsibility in being with you and making you happy. At the end of the day, you come first. He wishes you knew that, but he doesn’t mind telling you. 
It’s a little later with his arms around you, right side up this time, that he confesses, “I don’t even know if I’d be a good dad.” 
You aren’t worried. “That’s silly. As long as you don’t get killed by a giant radioactive reptile, you’ll be amazing.”
“How do you know?” 
“Same way you know I’ll be a good mom.” 
“You will be.”
You kiss his neck. “I knew you’d say that. I don’t know if I’ll be a good mom, I just know you believe in me.” 
“I do.”
“You’ll be a good dad,” you further, pressed as far into his neck as you can be, lavished by his hands running up and down your back. “I know parenting is a lot of things, but I really think it’s the same as being a good boyfriend. You’re kind. You’re so patient. You’re funny. I can’t wait to have a little baby that looks like you n…” You sigh. He loves that touch of wistfulness behind it. “I can’t wait to be a family with you.” 
“Are you tired?” he asks. 
You mumble. “Mm. Just a bit.” 
He strokes your neck. “I can’t wait to be a family, either… maybe it can wait until tomorrow, though.” 
You smile into his jaw, dragging yourself up to kiss his cheek. “Love you, Peter Parker.” 
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tkwrites · 2 days
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Can I Come See You? - Quinn Hughes x OFC
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gif from gabelandeskog
Title: Can I Come See You?
Author: Tory / @tkwrites 
Relationship: Pre-established: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts
Summary: After a rough game, Quinn seeks out comfort from Sarah. 
Warnings: some suggestive themes, swearing, other than that, it’s 98% fluff.
Word count: 4,600
Comments: I know I’ve been teasing the family reunion snapshot for a while now, but with all the heavy emotions September brings, I just haven’t been able to finish it. When this ask came in, I started writing right away, wanting some comfort myself. I’ve loved revisiting the beginning of Quinn & Sarah’s relationship while writing this Snapshot. 
Thank you, thank you, and thank you gain for your support and love! I have found such a lovely community here, and I’m so thankful. Even in this radio silence while I’ve been slogging through my grief, everyone has been so kind and supportive.  
If you enjoyed this Snapshot, please consider commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask about it. I love seeing what you think of Quinn & Sarah’s latest adventures.
Anonymous asked: Quinn gives cuddler energy 1000000% After a game, especially when they played bad and lost/gave up a lead. Immediately wanting Sarah cuddles to make him feel better. Do you think he ever went to hers after a game, giving Eunice a heart attack in the early days. Or did they mostly hang at his?
Can I come see you? 
A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot
If it wasn’t a Friday night, he wouldn’t have even asked. But it was, and he knew Sarah didn’t have to be up early the next day. And they’d lost. Epically. 
Midway through the third, they’d given up a three goal lead. On a power play no less. He’d, thankfully, only been on the ice for one. He didn’t know what he’d do if he’d given up more than one short handed goal in a two-minute span.
There was another game the next day, the third in four days, and he knew he really should go home and go to sleep. But Toch had canceled practice the next morning, and he was upset and feeling restless and just wanted to see her. 
It had been a long time since he’d felt this longing to be with someone and actually had someone he could go to. He called his parents, but there was still a gap there, telling him something was still missing. He wanted a more physical kind of comfort.
It was a miserable night, and Quinn thought seeing Sarah might make him feel a little better. He’d never asked her something like this. Hoping she wouldn’t mind, he fired off a text.
Sarah was in her room after the game – after an awful game – when Quinn texted. 
Can I come see you? 
Her heart leapt into her throat.
Quinn had never sent a text like this before, and she wasn't totally sure what it meant.  
He wouldn't come here to initiate comfort sex, right? That would be crazy. Her roommates were home. 
Maybe he just wanted…she had no idea what he wanted, but he'd respected every boundary she'd thrown at him so far, so she responded. Sure. Let me know when you’re here, and I’ll come let you in. 
Though they hadn’t slept together yet, she was thinking about it a lot, and they'd made out. She'd even let him take off her bra a few days before. Just thinking about that night — the reverent way he'd touched her, like she was a priceless piece of art, and the croaked, pleasured noise he’d groaned into her neck when their dry humping culminated in him coming in his pants — still made her thoughts buzz.
He asked for her address. 
She’d forgotten he’d never been to her apartment before. Not inside, at least. He’d dropped her off several times, but it was always at the end of a date, and at least one of her roommates was usually home, so it’s not like she would invite him up. Also, it seemed silly to go from his lovely penthouse to inviting him up to her little apartment. If they were going to do anything, it wouldn’t be here. 
My roommates are home, just so you know, she sent, not wanting to set unrealistic expectations. 
He reacted with a thumbs up. 
Normally, she would warn them she was having someone over, but telling Eunice Quinn was coming over would only give her more time to wind herself up. So Sarah stayed in her room until he texted that he was downstairs and slipped by her roommates without giving an explanation. 
When she opened the large glass door to her building, he was standing off to the side, hands shoved in his pockets and his head hanging forward, as if it were just a little too heavy to hold up. 
“Hey,” she said quietly, not wanting to startle him.
He still jumped a little, but when he met her eyes, he smiled — genuinely — as if he was just glad to see her. 
Her heart fluttered.
“Come on in.” Taking his hand, she pulled him into the elevator, which was, thankfully, still on the ground floor. They only went up five levels before she got off and led him down the hall, and scanned through door 538. 
Her roommates were on the couch watching an episode of Friends. 
They looked over, and one of them yelped before slapping her hand over her mouth. She continued to make muffled noise, her wide eyes darting between Quinn and Sarah. 
“This is Quinn,” Sarah introduced, though it felt perfunctory. They both knew who he was. “And this is Eunice,” she said, gesturing to her, “she’s a big fan and a little bit excitable.” 
Quinn recognized her. She was the one who screamed when he’d knocked on the glass at Sarah’s first game. Her brown hair, which was more frizz than curl, was pushed back with a headband. She was still wearing a jersey – Petey’s, thankfully – from watching the game. 
“And this is Jane.” 
She was tall and willowy, with pale eyes and a thick, dark blonde braid. 
“It’s nice to meet you,” Jane said, standing up and offering her hand to shake.
Quinn grasped it, managing to pull a smile onto one half of his mouth. 
Eunice stood and followed suit, though he got the distinct impression that were they anywhere else with anyone else, she would be asking for a hug. “I can’t believe you’re in our house right now.” Her voice actually squeaked when she said it. 
“It’s nice to meet you,” he said, not quite managing to pull full sincerity into his voice. Though he did feel it, he was too tired and too miserable to mask the disappointment. 
Eunice finally seemed to get over the shock of Quinn Hughes being in her living room. Leaning her butt on the armrest of the couch, she said, “tough break tonight.”
“Yeah,” he sighed. 
“Here, we can go in my room.” 
When Sarah’s hand slipped into his, his heart did an embarrassing little flutter. Hoping it didn’t show on his face, he followed her down the hall. 
He'd forgotten what it was like to move into a blank slate of an apartment. All the places he'd rented since moving to Vancouver were furnished, including curated, so-neutral-it-wasn’t-interesting artwork. Sarah’s apartment looked like a home - framed photos and unique paintings on the walls. 
Her room was simple. There was a full bed tucked under the window that overlooked the street and a desk. There wasn’t room for much else. A quark board above her desk was filled with photos of who he assumed was her family. Half a dozen babies with her same bright blue eyes or chocolate colored hair. He noticed the warm up puck he'd given her sitting on her desk, bracing the pages of a textbook open to an anatomical drawing of a seahorse. 
She sat on the bed. It was either the bed or her office chair, and they couldn't both fit on the chair.  
“What's up?” she asked after a minute or so of him looking around her room, his hands in his pockets. He was in his suit, a rain jacket over it against the wet, misty night, and had a knit hat pulled over his hair.
His eyes snapped to her. Something about seeing her in leggings and a loose t shirt, sitting on her blue and green patchwork quilt, made him ache. Longing bloomed in him to see her this comfortable somewhere where they could be together. Not together like this; together permanently. The thought stuck in his mind. Had he ever felt that way about someone before?
“I just wanted to see you,” he admitted, shoulders dropping.
“Oh.” The sincerity in his voice took her by surprise. The fact that he wanted to see her on a hard night sent a giddy, effervescent shiver through her. 
She patted the mattress, and relieved, he sunk down next to her. 
Sarah pulled his rain jacket off, throwing it over her office chair before asking, “this too?” as her fingers tucked under the collar of his suit coat. 
Usually, he would have shrugged it off as soon as he'd pulled away from the arena, but he'd been driving in the general direction of Yaletown, breathlessly waiting for Sarah’s reply.  
Nodding, he pushed his shoulders back so she could pull it off. 
She folded it much more deliberately than he usually did, matching the shoulders and making sure the arms were flat before draping it over his jacket. 
“You okay?” she asked, her hand traveling up and down his back. 
Her gentle touch and the sound of her voice sent a pang of relief through him. 
Experiencing Sarah sharing her emotions with him so openly somehow made it easier to reciprocate and trust she wasn't going to dismiss his or throw them back in his face later. 
He shook his head.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“I don't even want to think about it,” he said, leaning forward and raking his fingers into his hair.
Not quite sure what he meant, her hand paused on it’s journey smoothing over the soft material of his dress shirt. 
“Can we…” he glanced over at her. In the light from her desk lamp, his eyes were the color of cognac. “Can we lay down?”
Her lips pursed. It wasn’t that they hadn’t cuddled before. They had, but she still wasn’t exactly sure what it was that he wanted. 
“I just want to hold you,” he finally admitted. The vulnerability of saying it out loud knotted his stomach.
Her heart did a giddy little dance in her chest, and she barely held herself back from asking, really?  
“Sure,” she said instead, although it still came out a little breathy. “You've gotta take off your shoes, though.” 
As he toed off the sneakers, she scooted back, so she was laying nearest the window. 
He lay next to her. They stayed that way, side by side for a minute before Sarah asked, “how do you...?”
Extending his arm, he patted his side, inviting her to snuggle into him. She accepted readily, pressing her body to his. Really, he wanted her to hold him, but he felt a little too vulnerable to ask for that. 
A deep sigh let go as her hand rested on his chest. It had taken more than six months for him to feel this comfortable with June, for him to even think about asking her for comfort.  It was amazing to him that things with Sarah were so much easier. 
“What do you need?” she asked, tracing one of his buttons. 
Emotion threatened to choke his reply. Taking a moment to swallow it down, he tried to remember the last time someone had asked him that not related to improving his on-ice performance. Nothing immediately came to mind.
“Can you just talk?”
“About what?”
“Anything. Tell me about your roommates.”
“Well, Jane is a pediatric nurse. She works in the BC Children’s ER.” 
He let out a low whistle. 
“Yeah. It’s a rough gig sometimes, but she really loves it. She's actually headed to work in a few hours.”
He glanced at his watch, “at midnight?” 
“She works a lot of graveyards. 3 to 3 or midnight to noon. She coaches a youth lacrosse league on the weekends.”
“Really?” He felt Sarah nod. “My mom played lacrosse. She put all of us in it, too.” 
“Did you like it?” 
He shrugged, “I like hockey better.”
“Good thing you stuck with it, then.”
A breath of a laugh escaped through his nose.
“And Eunice is studying biomedical engineering. She’s on track to get her PhD.”
“Really?”
“Why are you so surprised?”
“I don't know,” he shrugged. “She just seems so…I mean, excitable like you said.”
“Oh, she's just dedicated to everything she does. She has a 4.0. I think it'd actually be higher if the scale didn't stop there. She does everything like that, you know? Doesn’t matter if it’s school or being a fan. She’s always 110% in. I don’t think she knows how to do anything halfway.” 
He hmm’d.
Falling into a companionable silence, Quinn sighed. He’d been looking for this his kind of comfort with another person his entire life. The first time he’d really felt it was on their first date, and it was a revelation. Each time it happened since then, it became a little less awkward. They might well be on their way to sharing the kind of quiet moments he used to see his parents have. Sitting together on the couch reading, or folding laundry together, or watching TV, just happy to be with each other. The idea of it made his chest feel buoyant enough to float away.
“How did you meet them?” 
“Eunice was advertising for someone new to move in on the school housing board. Their old roommate, Jenny, was getting married. So, I met them and saw the place, and it just worked out.” 
“Just like that?” 
“I guess?”
“I’ve never done that before.”
“What?” 
“Interviewed to be a roommate. I’ve always lived with teammates.”
“Not all of us have a built-in best friend squad.”
He snorted, and Sarah smiled. 
They eased into another quiet moment, and Quinn felt his eyelids grow heavy.
“Do you need anything?” she asked. 
“Hmm?” 
“Like, do you need anything to eat?” 
“I ate at the arena,” he said, “but I wouldn't mind something to drink.” 
As she pushed herself up and he resisted the urge to pull her back down. “What do you want? I have water, cranberry juice, or Ginger ale. I have some rum if you need something stronger, or I could make you some tea.” 
“I can't have caffeine this late. It’ll fuck up my sleep schedule.” Truth be told, it was probably already fucked just by him being here, but he didn’t want to inflict any more damage. 
She smiled, “I have peppermint, or a caffeine free maple that's really tasty as a latte.” 
“That sounds nice.”
“Okay. Do you want milk or almond milk?” 
“Almond, please.” 
“You got it.” As she crawled over him to get to the edge of the bed, she leaned down to press a gentle kiss to his lips. 
His mouth was still buzzing when she left the room. 
Eunice came into the kitchen as Sarah was filling the kettle. “What are you doing?” she whispered as if Quinn might hear them from down the hall. 
“Making tea,” Sarah said in her normal tone. 
She could tell Eunice wanted to start interrogating her and pointedly looked the other way. She’d be happy to talk, but not while he was still here. Getting Eunice started on a conversation like that required a certain amount of commitment, and Sarah wasn’t willing to rehash the night until it was over.
She stayed in the kitchen, watching Sarah start the kettle on the stove and pour milk into the frother. 
“I can bring this to you when it’s done.” 
“You’re sure?” 
“Yeah. Go be with Quinn. He looked like he needed some time with you. I’ll be in in a few.” 
“Okay.” 
As she walked back down the hall, she heard Eunice mutter something about getting Quinn to play better tomorrow.
Sarah winced, wondering if he was ever allowed to be human before being an athlete. 
Quinn looked up from his phone when Sarah came back in the room empty-handed. “No tea?” he asked, hoping his tone came off teasing. It was surprising to him she could start something and not finish it. 
Leaving the door cracked open, she got back on the bed and crawled over him, “Eunice offered to bring it in. It takes our stove ages to boil water.” 
He pulled her into him as soon as she got to his other side. As she bounced against him, she giggled, and it dissipated some of the angsty weight he’d been carrying around since the game ended. 
She snuggled up to him again, working her left arm under his back. He arched until her hand brushed his ribs.
“That’s okay?” he asked, settling back down. 
“Yeah.”
Though half of it was tied up, he threaded his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck, then ran them through the soft strands. She made a contented little noise, so he did it again, just glad to be touching her. 
“Thank you for this,” he said, voice quiet. 
“For what?” 
“For letting me come over. For,” he moved so he could wrap his arm around her, squeezing her a little bit closer. 
“Hey, if cuddling makes you feel better, I’m always down,” she said, nuzzling her cheek into his shoulder. This kind of casual affection was what she missed most every time she broke up with all of her exes. Not to mention, she got so little physical touch being away from her family.
He chuckled, and it ended in a sigh. 
His free hand found hers, and he slotted their fingers together. 
“I really like you, Sarah.” 
“I really like you, too, Quinn,” she said, tipping her head back so she could see his face. From this angle, his nose was more pronounced. She had to resist the urge to pull her hand from his so she could run her finger down the ridge of it to feel the prominent bump. 
Sensing her stare, he turned his head, bringing their lips dangerously close. It only took a bit of stretching on Sarah’s part to bring them together. 
When he felt Sarah strain toward him again, he rolled onto his side to shorten the distance between them. Her hand stayed on his chest, and their kisses remained sweet, though the adjusted position allowed for a little more tongue, which he wasn’t mad about.
This was much softer than anything they'd done so far. It was nice to know they could just be here: not rushing to get undressed or into something more intense and physical. 
She loved this kind of lazy, slow kissing, but found it didn’t usually come until much later in a relationship, after all the first physical stuff was out of the way. To be kissing - making out without really making out - like this before they’d even had sex felt like a gift. Feeling his fingers run into her hair, bringing her face just that little bit closer to his Sarah sighed.
The way her chin moved in and out as they kissed, matching the rhythm of her tongue brushing his, lulled his body into a state of deeper relaxation than he’d felt all evening.
Pulling away just enough, she whispered, “you’re a really good kisser.” 
A zing of pleasure shivered through his brain and all the way down Quinn's spine.
 “Thanks,” he breathed, easing back to see her face. 
He gazed into her eyes for a few moments longer, trying to calm his thoughts. Once he was over the initial daze her compliment brought on, he realized he should probably say something else. Instead of blurting out the, I like being good for you, that popped into his mind, he said, “you make it easy to be.”
When she shyly thanked him as her cheeks pinked, he felt like he'd swallowed the sun. 
Unable to resist anymore, Sarah reached up to trace her finger down the bridge of his nose. “How did you break it?” 
“The first time, Jack punched me in the face in an intense game of mini sticks.”
“Mini sticks?”
“It’s like…” How did he explain this to someone who’d never played? “It’s like indoor, carpet hockey. You use these little plastic sticks and a ball, usually. We used to play in the basement. My mom talks about how we played so hard, we would shake the whole house.”
“That’s some serious competition if you’re getting your nose broken.” 
A breath of a laugh huffed out of him. “I deserved it. I was goading him on pretty bad, and he didn’t really know his own strength. I can still see the horror on his face when the blood started pouring.” 
She resumed stroking, her touch feather light and gentle, “how many times have you broken it?” 
“Three.” Quinn never thought he’d like someone touching him like this, but with Sarah, he found it comforting instead of irritating. It was like she just wanted to know every part of him. “The other two were pucks to the face.”
She winced. “That sounds painful. Those pucks are way heavier than I thought.” 
“It’s not fun,” he said. “Thankfully, the adrenaline is still pumping, so it doesn’t really hurt until after the game is over.” 
“You kept playing with a broken nose?” 
Nodding, he laughed, “they strap on a full face shield, and send you back out there.” 
An incredulous, protective look took over her face that Quinn instantly loved. 
“Don’t worry. They do concussion testing and reset it if it needs it before.” 
“That’s just…really?” 
He nodded.
“I keep seeing all these memes about how tough hockey players are, and I always thought they were kind of exaggerated.” 
“It’s a tough sport,” he said. “My goal is always to be swift enough on my feet to not get involved with the harsh stuff, but sometimes a puck just redirects, and bam, your nose is broken again.” 
The kettle whistled. 
As if by an unspoken rule, they pulled back from each other. Sarah’s hand dropped back to his chest. 
A minute later, Eunice gently hipped open Sarah's door, carrying a tray with two steaming mugs and the whole milk frothing machine. “I figured it would be easier for you to froth in here,” she said, setting the tray down on Sarah's desk. 
As she backed out of the room, she widened her eyes and quirked her brows a few times, giving Sarah a look that plainly said, you have a cute, famous boy in your bed, and we're going to discuss everything as soon as he’s gone. 
“Thanks, Eunice,” Sarah said through a tight smile, hoping Quinn hadn’t seen. 
“Sure thing,” she said before softly clicking the door shut.
“I don’t think I’ve ever had a tea latte,” Quinn said as he rolled onto his back so Sarah could crawl over him again. The urge to pull her on top of him by her hips was so strong that he had to curl his fingers into the quilt. 
“Really?” she asked, plugging the frother into the outlet by her nightstand. 
He shrugged. 
The machine whirred to life.
“It’s good. I like it at night. The warm milk kind of puts me to sleep.” 
When it was done, she divided the creamy concoction into the two mugs and brought one to Quinn. 
“This is okay?” he asked, gesturing to the bed. 
“Yeah.” There wasn’t anywhere else they could go. If he spilled tea on her sheets, she’d just have him help her change them. 
Sarah sat opposite him, knees bent, her bare feet between his socked ones. 
Their eyes met over their mugs, and Quinn smiled. “This is really good, thank you,” he said, gently tapping her leg with his toe. 
“You’re welcome. I’m glad you came over.” 
“Are you still up for the game tomorrow?” 
“Yeah,” she said. “I’m planning on it.”
“And you’ll stay so I can take you home?”
She nodded. “Are you flying out again after that?”
He sighed, “yeah. On Sunday. We fly out to Dallas, play them on Monday, and then go to Colorado to play on Wednesday, and then I’ll be home for a week on Thursday afternoon.”
“I’m glad it’s not too long this time.”
“Me too.” A yawn split his face. He apologized, holding a fist over his mouth.
Shaking her head, Sarah said, “you’ve had a long day.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, downing the rest of the tea. “I should probably get home and get to sleep.”
While he pulled on his sneakers, Sarah set her latte aside and slipped on some sandals. 
Rain was pounding against the glass fronted lobby when they got downstairs. Looking down at herself, Sarah said, “I’d walk you to your car, but I’m not really dressed for it.”
Half of his mouth lifted in an indulgent smile, “that’s okay.” Gathering her against him, he breathed in the smokey smell of her perfume to fortify himself for the dash into the rain and the drive home. “Thank you again.”
Her hands slid under his suit coat, pulling him more tightly against her, “you’re welcome. I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, pulling back to look into his face. 
“Tomorrow,” he agreed, leaning down to kiss her. They were in public, so he knew he shouldn’t linger, but he did anyway, savoring her mouth as the last thing he’d taste that night. 
“Let me know when you get home, yeah?” she asked when they parted. 
He nodded, and she watched him jog away before heading back upstairs. 
Eunice was waiting in the entryway for her and immediately grabbed her hand. “Tell us everything,” she said, excitedly pulling Sarah down the hall to the bathroom where Jane was re-braiding her hair for work. 
Before she sat in the hallway outside the bathroom, Sarah got her unfinished tea. As she sipped, she explained how he ended up there. 
Both women awed when she recounted Quinn telling her he just wanted to hold her. Eunice broke in when Sarah got to the part about making tea.
“Jane, it was so cute. I walked by, and they’re cuddling. Then, when I came back, they were kissing. Like that soft movie kind of kissing - it looked so dreamy. Then when I walked by again –” 
“Why were you walking by so much?” Sarah demanded. 
Eunice didn't even blush, “I had to get my blanket.”
“And it took you two trips to do it?” 
“I forgot what I was getting the first time and had to come back to the living room to remember.” 
“Right,” Sarah deadpanned. 
“Anyway,” she said in an over-exaggerated tone, “when I walked by again, she was petting his nose.”
“Oh my god,” Sarah exclaimed, “I am never bringing him over here again. He’s going to think you’re some kind of psychopathic stocker for walking by all the time.”
“Oh, he had no idea I was even there,” Eunice said. “He was way too busy longingly gazing at you, Ms. Roberts. I don’t think he would have even noticed me if I was stomping down the hall like a t-rex.”
“He was pretty enraptured,” Jane said. 
“You too?” 
“I had to go to the bathroom. Mine was legitimate.”
“Oh my fucking hell,” Sarah moaned. 
“Why were you touching his nose?” 
“I asked him how he broke it.” Sarah smiled at the floor. “And I like his nose.”
Eunice snorted, “of course you do.” 
Cutting off Sarah’s incredulous look, Jane asked, “what was the best part?”
All of it, she wanted to say. The fact that he came over at all. That he just wanted to cuddle, the kissing… 
“He was really sweet. I told him he was a good kisser and he just looked into my eyes for a while before he goes, ‘you make it easy to be.’” 
“Oh my gosh,” Jane gushed, “really? That is such a good answer.”
“Will you just fuck him already?” 
Sarah let out a surprised cough, and Eunice continued, “I think he’s proven he’s not just in it for the sex.”
“I think I knew that from the start.”
“So why are you waiting so long to jump him?” 
“Eunice,” Jane admonished, “Sarah can take however long she likes to take that step.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Eunice said dismissively, flapping her hands, “I just want to know what he’s like in bed.”
“Oh my god,” Sarah said, dropping her head into her hands. “I am never discussing my sex life with you.”
“Yes you will.” 
“No. I won't.” 
“You will,” Eunice said with a quirk of her brows. “You've told us everything else so far. I don't think you'll be able to resist.”
“You’re unhinged, you know that?” 
“That’s why you love me.”
Laughing, Sarah had to admit she was right.  
Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist
To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist
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jackiepackiee · 3 days
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𝒟𝑒𝓂𝑜𝓃 𝒮𝓁𝒶𝓎𝑒𝓇
𝐻𝒶𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓇𝒶 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒸𝓉𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇! 𝒟𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓎𝒶
𝒲/ 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝐻𝒶𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓇𝒶
GN! Reader expect for Tengens part
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𝒮𝒶𝓃𝑒𝓂𝒾 𝒮𝒽𝒾𝓃𝒶𝓏𝓊𝑔𝒶𝓌𝒶 - 𝒲𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝐻𝒶𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓇𝒶
Contrary to a lot of headcanons I’ve seen, Sanemi would be happy about this
Obviously not outwardly smiling and laughing, but a reserved and peaceful relief
He wants the best for his younger, and now only, brother
And he wishes for nothing more than his happiness and has always hoped for a lover for him to make happy
Family that Genya could have that wouldn’t leave or be tainted like he was
Kind and loving
Now… he wasn’t expecting this lover to be a fellow demon slayer
Especially another Hashira
Sanemi and you, before all of this, get along fine
He respects the other hashira, and obviously sees your strength and drive
But he’s not overly kind, he’s just himself and standoffish
When he does find out about this however, don’t expect a huge reaction
Because he doesn’t know how to react
It’s most likely that you wouldn’t tell him outwardly, and Genya doesn’t speak much with him
Whatever the situation may be, he looks at the two of you for a second
Genya, having grown up with him, recognizes the look in his eyes
It’s the look he’d have with their mother and younger siblings
Yet much fainter now
Sanemi is protective, and this new fire is to cradle you two with your feelings
He wants the best for his brother, and you’re perfect for him
Kind, incredibly powerful, and strong willed
Another person to look out for Genya while able to give him the affection Sanemi fails to deliver
For the sake of happiness, let’s say Sanemi and Genya speak more
Sanemi tells Genya to not be an idiot and treat you right
Before a date he’ll sometimes silently approach Genya and fix his little arrangement of flowers with a huff
“Make sure they put them in water…”
As for your relationship with Sanemi
It’s more like you two are enemies and comrades at the same time
You’re upset at his harsh behavior, talking back at him when he berates anyone
but also willing to die for Genya just like he is
Although he’ll make sure that never happens
Unbeknownst to you, you’re now on his protection radar too
How can Genya be at his best without you?
Lucky you! Dating Genya and getting his scary brother as your new bodyguard
𝒢𝒾𝓎ū 𝒯𝑜𝓂𝒾𝑜𝓀𝒶 - 𝒲𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝐻𝒶𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓇𝒶
Giyuu is, like most things, indifferent
He’s happy for you, and happy that you could find love
It’s admirable how you find time to balance work and a more domestic life
But… he’s him
And won’t pay it too much mind
Not wanting to get into your business
To add a little more to this, let’s make a scenario!
You and Giyu are on a mission
And on this mission you’ve been instructed to assist at a small village
Multiple lower rank slayers have gone missing
Sooooo, you both make the journey
Only to find out Genya is a victim to a lower moon
Along with a bunch of other lower ranks of course
You and Giyu make quick work of the smaller demons, but the lower moon obviously poses a challenge
It’s relatively normal until he sees the demon go directly for Genya
It had read your feelings and went for your most important emotional connection
Just before the sharp nails reached Genya, Giyu severed the hand off
He wasn’t sure what made his body move on its own, but seeing you happily embracing your boyfriend after the battle was enough to pull a small smile onto Giyu’s face
Willing to do anything to assist his fellow hashira
𝒦𝓎ō𝒿𝓊𝓇ō 𝑅𝑒𝓃𝑔𝑜𝓀𝓊 - 𝐹𝓁𝒶𝓂𝑒 𝐻𝒶𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓇𝒶
Despite being only slightly older than you and Genya, Rengoku acts like a big brother
Laughing (in his way, not a mocking way) while patting Genya’s back
Genya of course blushes and acts like it’s something to ignore
Rengokus enthusiastic response makes him embarrassed!
Now this man is probably one of the first to know (because Mitsuri gossiped to him and his brother over lunch)
And while his energy is over the top, he won’t share the secret
He’s a smart man, and very in tune with emotions
So he knows that it can’t be easy for you
Demons are enough of an issue, no more pressure trying to keep a secret as big as a relationship
Now he loves to talk just as much as he loves to listen
You’re like a little sibling and he’ll listen to all your rants
“The way he wore his hair today. It curled up after the rain and..!”
He won’t judge you for your blushing while recounting the events
Instead he’ll try his best to make that situation happen again
Genya happens to have his hair like that everyday now?
It’s because Rengoku told him that leaving his hair the way it is after air drying is healthy!
(He totally lied, he just knows you think it’s cutest right after it dries)
And Genya believes him, always taking the advice
Which leads to cuter and kinder Genya and more often occasions of you swooning
𝒯𝑒𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓃 𝒰𝓏𝓊𝒾 - 𝒮𝑜𝓊𝓃𝒹 𝐻𝒶𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓇𝒶
Oh boy…
You’re both in for a ride
Tengen is probably also one of the first people to know
The man has three wives, he knows what it looks like when two idiot teens are in love
Especially when one of them is you who’s never been distracted from training expect when Genya is with you
And with Genya who seems to train even harder to not only impress Sanemi but now you too
Speaking of his wives, they’re probably the reason you know they Tengen found out
It was some “secret flashy plan”
It was early in you and Genyas relationship
And Suma, Hina, and Makio suddenly snuck up on you and stanched you away into the sound hashita estate
They gave you a makeover
Makio and Suma picked out a pretty outfit while Hina gently did your hair and a little bit of makeup
The entire time you four all gossiped, which ended up in your blushing while blabbering about Genya and your early stages of dating
Genya… he wasn’t so lucky
Tengen stole him away and was on his “make over” duty
Not that Genya and Tengen are bad in their respective rights, it’s just…
Genya is a hard around the edges boy and Tengen is Tengen
But he eventually cracked and gave him some serious advice that wasn’t just “I have three wives, I’m a ladies man”
All while helping him find an outfit that isn’t his uniform
“Girls… they’re less complicated than you think. And that one, she’s in for the hell of it. So you have to treat her nice, and she’ll do the same. You’re both good kids, you’ll be fine.”
This all leads to you looking like an angel by your makeover and him blushing furiously
And… Tengens plan may have just set up the date when you two had your first kiss!
𝒮𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑜𝒷𝓊 𝒦𝑜𝒸𝒽ō - 𝐼𝓃𝓈𝑒𝒸𝓉 𝐻𝒶𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓇𝒶
Shinbou is very intelligent
She knows patterns and human behavior
And she’s familiar with Genya after his demon consumption
So it’s very obvious to her what’s going on
Especially after he’s the first to visit you and visa versa
She remembers the day she really found out though… wasn’t a good one
Genya had eaten demon flesh again, even if instructed by everyone to stop
Gyomei said it was immoral, Sanemi said it was stupid, and Shinbou said it was unhealthy
But you, you hated it the most
Seeing him become something he’s not
You loved him, not a demon
And hated the danger it proved
So when this night came, hell broke loose
He had eaten demon and transformed for the night
It’s just that you saw him right before sunrise
And we’re unsure if he had transformed back into a human before the sun
Leading you to leave the battlefield, covered in bruises and pushing past every slayer who tried to speak to you
When you met Shinbou, you started crying
Genuine tears one only cried after the loss of their life
Being herself, she hugged you
And tried to help by inquiring your emotions
“G-Genya! Sniffle Is he here? He was still a demon minutes before sunrise.”
She understands and ushers you someplace
Genya is fast asleep, making a cute face as if he was dreaming
You never outwardly told her, but she’ll never forget the fear at the thought of losing him, and the relief in your eyes and you feel to the ground in tears at his survival
𝑀𝓊𝒾𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓇ō 𝒯𝑜𝓀𝒾𝓉ō - 𝑀𝒾𝓈𝓉 𝐻𝒶𝓈𝒽𝑒𝓇
Unbothered king
Now he’s friends with Genya but both are rather reserved people
Not the type to share much about their lives and feelings
Let’s pretend this is after his memory is restored
Muichiro is a good kid, and your friend as well
But is pretty unaware of romance and honesty not that interested
Not that he won’t listen
You could talk him ear off about anything and he’d hum in acknowledgment
He just doesn’t have much input
You three do hang out together sometimes
If you’re more extroverted it works well
You pull them along to do fun things
You three really getting to act your age and mess around
If you’re more introverted this is one of the chillest groups ever
When Genya is around people he trusts (his lover and friend who are both Hashira) he never yells or acts over the top
He’s actually rather quiet just like Muichiro, especially when in his presence
The one real involvement of Mui in romance is Genya asking if the flowers he picked are good and Mui nodding even though he knows absolutely nothing about gift giving or flowers
𝑀𝒾𝓉𝓈𝓊𝓇𝒾 𝒦𝒶𝓃𝓇𝑜𝒿𝒾 - 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝐻𝒶𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓇𝒶
Either your best dream or worst nightmare
She is more enthusiastic about this relationship than you are!
Expect weekly letters inquiring your dating status
Have you had your first kiss?
He held you hand?
You had a sleepover?!?
And the second she sees you she’s bouncing in excitement
Pulling you to the nearest place to sit and interrogating you
For being the love hashira, she’s pretty clueless
She always wants to know every cute detail
“You kissed his cheek? The scar or the other side? Did he blush? He always blushes around you!”
This is what I mean by dream or nightmare
Either you get embarrassed about the question or love the gossip about your lover
She’s the more supportive, giving you amazing date ideas
Even if most of them have to do with eating
She’s the first to know about your first kiss and this girl wants the WHOLE story
She definitely tells Obanai too (if you’re okay with it)
She doesn’t talk to Genya much though :(
Especially since the first and only time she tried to ask about your relationship his face lit up bright red and he seemed to freeze
“All I did was ask about your relationship and he didn’t respond! The conversation was fine before that!”
But he is never surprised when he gets a visit from her crow with a letter of all your new favorite foods, places, and items
She’s an excellent gift giver and wants to help him
As if he didn’t already know all of that, he genuinely appreciates the effort
This girl is your biggest fan!
𝒢𝓎ō𝓂𝑒𝒾 𝐻𝒾𝓂𝑒𝒿𝒾𝓂𝒶 - 𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝐻𝒶𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓇𝒶
Gyomei knew first
He’s a wise older man and a observant mentor
And while you may be off most of the time, Genya is always training under him
And he doesn’t fail to notice Genya always hitting that much harder whenever you are gone on a long mission
I’m saying this man knew Genya had a crush before Genya knew that himself
And he was moved, brought to tears and not paying attention to Genyas huffs of embarrassment
Genya would never yell at him of course
Gyomei is a smart man
And with that he knows a lot about kids (he considers you both kids)
So he’s well aware of your dancing around your feelings
And that upsets him
Your time on this earth is very likely to be short as demon slayers, so you both shouldn’t be wasting it
That is why, as the oldest hashira, he gets some plans in motion
Why are you suddenly on more missions with Genya?
Why do you both end up at the same wisteria house?
Why is it that you both happen to have the same days off?
Gyomei Himejima is why baby
He wants what’s best for the people under his care, even you can take care of yourself
And if he has to put in some forced proximity? So be it
𝐼𝑔𝓊𝓇𝑜 𝒪𝒷𝒶𝓃𝒶𝒾 - 𝒮𝑒𝓇𝓅𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝐻𝒶𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓇𝒶
Obanai does care
Not some bullshit of him being uninterested with other people’s lives
He sees you as a child (you’re obviously around Genya’s age) and knows that only so many things could make a child in the demon slayer corps happy
He knows neither of you have had good lives
If you had, you wouldn’t be in this damn job
That being said, with how withdrawn he is you’d probably think he didn’t even know you and Genya were an item
But he’s observant
And cares for his fellow hashira just like everyone else
He won’t have much to do with anything
But best believe he listens to both Sanemi complain and Mitsuri babble about you two
Sanemi is trying to seem tough
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tideswept · 2 days
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Sunday Snippet
please don't kill me for this obikin / genderbent!Anakin edition. (tcw era)
The bottle is nearly empty, and conversation has long fallen into a lull when Anakin blurts out, “I’ve never—actually. Um.”
And, to Obi-Wan’s bemusement, she flushes, grabbing at her wayward curls that have slipped loose from her messy knot and tugging at them hard enough that he sees her scalp lifting from the pull.
His tongue is heavy on the floor of his mouth, laid low by the foulest liquor he’s ever had the displeasure to suck down. It takes him a moment to go, “Sorry?” He clears his throat. What had they been talking about, before silence draped over them like a warm blanket? Was it about the clones? Or Quinlan’s ridiculous stunt that had nearly upset the entire operation? The argument about whether Ahsoka was too young to be spending so much time away from the Temple? What? What was it? 
And then it hits him that they’d been talking about past lovers, and he repeats himself, more perplexed. “Are you implying that you haven’t had sex? Anakin, I know you have.”
Anakin grimaces. “Nooo, oh, no, no. No. I have. I’ve had sex. Yes. Definitely.” 
“Yes. As mentioned… I’m aware.” Obi-Wan kindly does not mention Senator Amidala; he just brings the bottle up and takes a sip of the dregs. “Right. So if it’s not that, what do you mean?” 
It takes such a long time for Anakin to visibly draw on her courage—often so easily found in battle, but scarce when it comes to admitting things—that Obi-Wan is willing to dismiss it as a strange interlude brought about by the the alcohol and they really should go to bed, when Anakin says, voice small, “I’ve never… finished.”
Obi-Wan stares at her.
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fuck you the last of us for being some of the best tv in the history of television i can’t keep doing this shit every week oh my god
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wisecrackingeric-2 · 4 months
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Can I be mega autistic here and vent for a second and ask if anyone else is lowkey scared for whatever the next RE game is HSBWHDNDJ
#having hyperfixations/special interests combined with a PARALYSING fear of change SUUUUUCKSSS MAAAAANN. IT SUCKS ASS#like realistically I KNOW it’s silly and I KNOW I’ve got nothing to stress over BUT ITS STRESSING ME OUT BAD AND THERES NOTHING I CAN DO#RE4R/Luis has been SUCH a massive comfort of mine and turned into a full blown special interest and I guess the thing I’m most scared of is#the fandom moving on and forgetting abt re4r/luis as a whole which again I KNOW is silly but I can’t control my brain!!!!#and also combined with the fact that Luis probably isn’t coming back to the franchise at least anytime soon is HEARTBREAKING man. like thats#my special interest!! that’s the thing I’ve poured hours of my time into!!!!! I’m scared to see people move on#he’s already a fairly unpopular character in the wider fandom too!! and the fact that the content we do have of him is ALL we’re gonna have?#I dunno that makes me so much more stressed out and anxious than I should be which. again. I KNOOOOOOWW IS SILLY BUT I CANT HELP IT MAN#THE AUTISM!! THE AUTISMMMMM#I dunno I’m expecting Capcom to announce their next game this summer fest and it’s genuinely stressing me out sm which I hate#I hate being so afraid of change it sucks so much man#anyways sorry for the massive vent I just had to get this off my chest cuz it’s been weighing me down massively and making me more anxious#than it has any right to BCNDNENDJXJ#and again the fact that there’s a solid chance we may never see him again at lest not anytime soon is so so so so so devastating to me it#again makes me so much more upset than it has any right to HDNSHENDJDJ#not to mention people who are already weirdly mean and nasty to people who DO like him. I’m Not having a Time rn
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It frustrates me to no end that everyone I talk to someone new my brain catastrophises to the point where even though I know logically it’s fine, and normal, and fun, I end up making it a bigger deal in my head that I know it is…I think myself into spirals that the logical part of my brain knows are ridiculous and dramatic and improbable, which stress me out more than is entirely necessary…it’s so tiring to exist and participate in the social world sometimes
#personal#night time ramblings#the potentially autistic side of my brain really comes to party when I begin a new social relationship in any capacity#my analytical brain is not compatible with the lawless wasteland of socialising with someone new#gonna just ramble a bit about this situation here where I don’t have to make a lotta sense#I’ve been talking to a guy I’ve known for many year but never been properly friends with#we were in the same friendship circle when we were teenagers#but in different groups#we’ve literally been talking again for maybe 5 days#it’s taken me a few days to be more or less certain that our conversations are more than 2 sort of old friends catching up#like I think we’ve been flirting a little we’re going to go for a drink maybe he jokingly called me babygirl earlier#it’s been nice to be in that talking stage with a guy but without the awkward first few conversations where you’re getting to know the basic#I’ve always thought he was a nice guy our political and moral leaning have always been pretty similar he’s alright looking#that’s the extent of it#but of course my brains going haywire#scripting conversations I need to have if this become serious#wondering how hell react to less fun things about me physically or personality wise#wondering if and when we’ll ever have sex and if hell be any good 😂#trying to work out if hell get on with my family#like the whole 9 fucking yards#and it’s so fucking silly#like it isn’t that deep in the fucking slightest#it has the potential to be#and if it’s not it won’t be that upsetting to me#I’ll be a bit bummed out for a day or 2 and that’s it#I know myself well enough#but in the moment my brain always speed runs times everything could go wrong reasons it could fail reasons things will never succeed for me#and it doesn’t help that almost every romantic partner or potential I’ve ever had has proved this dumb shit right#but at what point does it become a self-fulfilling prophecy?#I sometimes think deep deep down I’m just a hopeless romantic hidden under layers of cynicism and emotional repression😂
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tariah23 · 6 months
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Well, I’m still glad that Gojo was always a character who was growing and learning at least. He’s literally one of my favorite characters of all time now. Like, he’s never been as perfect as how the fans would make him out to be despite canonically being viewed as an absolute nuisance to everyone around him (I don’t think his peers necessarily hate him but a lot of them probably hate to see him coming and the ones who’ve dealt with him long enough to consider him a friend, tolerate him and groan whenever he opens his mouth, too 😭… out of love. He’s extremely childish so there is only sm the other adults around him can take and to an extent, his students. I think the only characters in canon who adore him and their eye’s sparkle whenever he’s around, and being a silly teacher was Yuuji and Miwa (she asked him for his autograph (he’s the most famous sorcerer in the jjk world) and when she was alone, she did a little dance in the empty hallway 🥺…) from what we’ve seen even though the others still care about him, too. They just find him rather annoying, which he most definitely is. And he does it on purpose. He plays too much.)
#I’m also not usually one to get annoyed whenever ppl shit on the things I like#like I’m an adult sorry idc 😵‍💫#but it’s always annoying seeing ppl who know nothing about the story complaining about it#even just as recently with the Gojo being racist shit 😭..#like he’s a really great character despite all of that and even though Gege’s#execution of that could’ve been better or didn’t need to happen at all#because idk what gege was doing even though I do strongly believe that he used a moment like this to showcase Gojo’s ignorance and#that how he’s also human and makes mistakes since if you’re familiar with the series Gojo isn’t really treated like person at all#more like a deity and he doesn’t like that#but he’s never been one to voice his personal feelings and talk about his trauma ever#he gets treated like a god and because of this he’s never felt like he could truly connect with other people#so that’s why he puts on that whole act of being overly friendly/ playing with others and even rude to shut others out because of his#aversion to opening his traumatized self To other ppl like he’s so cool#and when he’s friendly he gives the others just enough of his affection so that he wouldn’t be worried about and not have others pry#but he’s incredibly flawed as well#I feel like gege could’ve showed Gojo being ‘humbled’ some other kind of way over the racism tho 😭. But it’s fine lmfao#I’m still so grateful that he had Gojo actually apologize instead of waving Miguel off like he didn’t matter because like I’ve said before#he literally never apologizes (this is probably the first time that I’ve ever seen gojo apologize to anyone in canon I’m so serious 🗿)#that’s literally not part of him#like he feels regret but he never apologies or shows that he actually cares about what others are expressing to him when they’re upset with#him. like this is crazy. but it shows that he did care about the mistake that he made which I appreciate…. like idk how I would’ve felt#about his character if he showed that he could care less when hurting someone like this🗿…..#I adore him so much sorry sorry for taking about anime I’m just 😭…. ❤️❤️❤️#rambling#I’m glad that everyone is fucking with Miguel now because he is a really interesting character even though we haven’t seen much of him#he’s one of the few ppl who Gojo trusted enough to look after someone who he cared about despite the horrors#because he knew that Miguel would protect yuuta and do right by him#it’s very 😭❤️…
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corrodedcoughin · 1 year
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You!!! Make this community a better place!!! Thank you for grazing in the Steddie nation!!
#you ever watch a documentary on autism in ‘women and girls’ and SO MUCH of it hits home and makes sense but not all of it 100% so doubt#yourself even though over 75% fits when you’ve been thinking this might be The Right Fit but don’t have a formal diagnosis and probably#will never get one#BUT THEN get really upset because it’s in ‘women and girls’ and you don’t want to be either of those and it hurts in a way you can’t explan#and then worry you are over analysing everything and making things out to be more than they are#idk idk just thoughts to vent out I don’t need a reply so please don’t feel obligated or anything#I mean talking abt it is always interesting but I’m not expecting anything#as all of my posts are!! never an obligation! ever!!!#idk man just thinking out loud and tag talking is my way becaude a full text post is too Much#I just hope everyone is doing okay???? AND!!! I hope you are enjoying yourselves???#in some way!!#because I’ve come back and seeing the creativity and joy and community here js so lovely#I wish I had the time to reblog everybody’s work and exclaim the details and feeling of it all#because regardless of fic shit post art edit gifs it’s all INCREDIBLE. it brings so much emotion to so many and you deserve the recognition#and credit for it because yes you do it for yourself but the feedback is always nice. always.#I just want people to be encouraged to create idk you are all so wonderful and I need you to know that#OKAY I’m done back to Normal reblogs and ask answering and whatever else I can provide#sorry!!!
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hella1975 · 2 years
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forever wishing sam fender would unrelease dead boys
#it’s like the moment I get a glimmer of hope for my hometown it reminds me of how awful it is#I feel like I’m screaming underwater at people like there’s something actually insidious about that town#and I’ve BEEN saying it and it keeps getting written off as youthful angst#bc of COURSE you hate your hometown! everyone hates their hometown!#but now I’m going to another funeral for a boy in my year and it’s another suicide and I don’t even know him#i havent seen him since primary school I have no right to be so upset by this#but I’m just trawling his ig bc he looks the same#he looks the exact same and he hung himself. he was twenty#and ofc he’s connected to my family bc everyone is in that fucking town hes like a v distant cousin#so we know the news first like so many of his friends are out having a nice night rn#and I’m here with this knowledge despite not knowing him. like tomorrow someone is going to find out their best mate killed himself#the police are literally still at his house and my mum is telling me she loves me because it’s ALWAYS the boys in my year group#like off the top of my head alone bc i KNOW it’s more ive already lost six boys in my year and I’m 20#how many kids have to die before my hometown stops being such a shithole#sorry for the vent post i dont even know why this has gutted me so much#maybe bc the only memory i have of this boy is between the ages of 5-11 so I literally ONLY know him as a child#like he was so happy I can only remember him smiling and just. what went so wrong after that? he had spiky hair and gap teeth#and now I’ve been told that he hung himself and I just#god. i don’t even know anymore#I’ll never forgive that town#hella goes home
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tonycries · 2 months
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A Million Dollar Baby! - N.K.
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Synopsis. Turns out, rent can be paid in much more than one way.
Pairing. Nanami Kento x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, landlord! Nanami (kinda), oraI (male + fem), cúmplay, reader’s a tease, unprotected, creampíe, down bad FERAL Nanami, spítting, bréeding, messing up his glasses, pantý-stealing, he’s sweet but fúcks so MEAN, mentions of Higuruma, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 5.8k (wild)
A/N. Decided it was high time I feed my Nanami girlies hehe.
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“Just get the money and go.” Nanami deadpans, like a mantra. Giving a rapt knock on your apartment door, “I swear m’making him buy me lunch for this.”
Now, it wasn’t that Nanami was exactly upset about taking over Higuruma’s landlord duties for the day - no, in fact, he was the first one at his friend’s door with a bag of prescription medicine for the other man’s fever and the suggestion to take the day off.
But it was the thought of finally coming face-to-face with you - that mysterious new tenant that’d just moved into his building. The one that had Nanami wondering whether you were really as “sugary sweet n’ irresistible” as Higuruma raved you were. 
Though, he can’t imagine you’d be particularly happy about being woken up at 10am on a Sunday for overdue rent - he certainly wasn’t.
Seriously, he had no idea how Higuruma managed to do this every-
Click!
“Higu- you’re not Higuruma.”
Oh, and suddenly, Nanami gets it.
If he got to see this view, too, then he might just become the landlord himself.
It’s as if you knew you’d be playing with his sanity as soon as you opened that door, dressed in a fitted t-shirt that did absolutely everything to show off every bit of skin he shouldn’t be looking at. Your lips curving into a sinful little smirk when you notice his eyes dancing off that excuse of fabric you call “shorts”.
“Um…” you hum, after a few moments of silence. Leaning against your wooden door frame to give the tall man an appreciative one-over, “Nanami, right? You’re Higuruma’s friend?”
It’s as if the sound of his own name jolts Nanami right back into his senses, clearing his throat as he readjusts his glasses. “Y-yes. Nanami Kento.” And he winces, fuck he’s never stuttered like this. Never, even in the toughest of board meetings. Yet, here he was - making a fool out of himself. 
Knowing he’s completely fucked when your delicious grin only widens, he bows politely, “Apologies for barging in like this, ma’am. But Higuruma’s sick n’ m’here to collect the rent in his place.”
You wave off his formality, introducing yourself. “Ah, of course. I’ve seen you around, always been too nervous to come up and say hello, though.”
And, suddenly, Nanami’s glad you never came up to him to talk out of your own volition, he thinks he’s rather put off embarrassing himself for later. Coughing softly, “I apologize, s’my fault. It was rude of me to not introduce myself first.”
“Well, better late than never, right?” you continue in your smooth tone. Before your eyes catch down his broad shoulders, the bob of his Adam’s apple, the clipboard held between his long, long fingers. “Right- the overdue rent. I swear, Higuruma’s always such a sweetheart, he doesn’t bother to remind me.” Opening your door wider to give Nanami a good look inside your cozy apartment - something forbidden. “Come in come in, I seem to have lost my wallet somewhere in here though, maybe you can help me find it.”
Oh? 
And Nanami knows this is dangerous. He knows this is much more than his simple plan earlier of just “get the money and go”. He knows that little glint in your eye certainly does not bode well for him as soon as he steps through that door. 
Yet, he answers anyway, “Of course, lead the way.”
Every bit of small talk in your sultry voice has Nanami gulping, loosening his favorite yellow tie while he follows you inside. Averting his eyes from the curve of your shorts, he takes in the neat state of your apartment. 
That is, until-
“Here we are.” you lead him to a towering pile of clothes piled unceremoniously on your tv room couch. Gesturing airily at the mess, “I’m sure I left my wallet in one of my pants, so you can just sit here until I-”
“I’ll do it.” Nanami’s quick answer stuns the both of you momentarily. But before you can resist, he’s shrugging off his jacket, ignoring the heat of your gaze when he bunches up his sleeves to reveal strong, veined forearms. “It’s only fair, since m’bothering you so early.”
You chuckle, “Oh? What a gentleman, we can do it together then, handsome.”
So here he was - sat on your cramped couch, your thighs flush against his, tackling your laundry. This was definitely a far cry from getting the rent and leaving - but, alas, Nanami can’t find it in himself to complain when he neatly folds up your clothes. 
Whereas you were hastily throwing them god-knows-where, hissing, “Where- is it-” 
“Patience.” he’s humming, placing another t-shirt on your coffee table. “Higuruma’s in no hurry, he can barely get out of bed right now.”
You click your tongue in frustration, “But you, Nanami-”
“-are perfectly fine helping you out.” Nanami cuts in, flashing you a gentle smile. Your eyes widen at the sight of a soft dimple at the corner of it. Which makes him tear his gaze from that pretty pout on your lips to turn back to his dwindling half of the pile, “Besides, it would be a shame if such a nice apartment was messed up by- by-”
Fuck. 
Was that what he thought it was?
His fingers tremble, looking so fucking big wrapped around that those tiny strings of hot pink. Sinful. Obscene. Shit, if he tried he could just rip it to pieces with his bare hands right now - even if you’d been wearing it.
“Hm?” you’re gasping at the sight of the man before you, body stiff, ears a guilty red, gaze hardening at where he was holding onto one of your panties. Oh, shit. You pluck the offending piece of material from his hands, “Oh- whoops. Um- that can’t really be folded.” Throwing a wink at the flustered man - and the lingerie right back at him. “Evidently.”
It was all too much for Nanami, and he’s bringing a hand up to cover his blush - before ripping it off like it burned when he realized it was the same hand he held your panties with. 
Somehow, he manages to choke out, “Maybe- maybe we should try looking somewhere else.”
And it was true - the few messy clothes now leftover (and…Nanami couldn’t forget, your underwear) didn’t show any signs of hiding your wallet. 
“If you say so~” you muse, getting up from your seat - only to get down on your knees. Right in front of Nanami’s manspread legs. 
“Wh-what are you-”
“Under the couch.” you interrupt, enjoying this way too fucking much for the poor man’s sanity as you flash him a cheeky grin. And he smacks himself mentally for letting his imagination be toyed by your teasing whims. “I might’ve dropped it under the couch, so won’t you be a dear and help lift it while I look?”
He couldn’t get up fast enough, almost stumbling over his long legs to crouch down beside you - just anywhere away from this scandalous position. “Ready?” Nanami rasps, biceps bulging tight against his button-up when he easily tilts over your couch. 
“More than.” you take a second longer to admire him before going back to your mission.
Which - whatever’s left of the rational part of Nanami’s brain really thinks might just be to drive him insane instead finding that fucking- what was it- wallet? 
“Hmmm seems it’s not here either, right, Ken?” He doesn’t know what he’s reeling at more - the fact that you used his first fucking name or the way you were arched so teasingly like that. On your knees, spine curving into a delicious little bend that has the crotch of his pants growing just a bit tighter. And- shit he was wrong. So, so wrong. Because those weren’t a sinful pair of shorts like he’d initially thought after all, instead, they were more like underwear. Flimsy and thin, bunching up perfectly at the crease of your hips. 
You were captivating. 
At his heavy silence, you bat your lashes so deceivingly innocently, “Oh? Was it the name? Sorry, Nanami, you’ve just helped me so much that it ah- slipped out. I won’t do it again.”
“No.” he grits out, the both of you surprised by the ragged hitch in his answer. Already so disgustingly missing the sound of his first name rolling off your tongue. “I’d like it if you called me that- ‘Ken’ that is, if you want.”
“Well then, Ken.” you brush up unnecessarily against his sculpted body as you move to get up and dust yourself down. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but my wallet’s not down there.”
Shit, he thinks, looking down at the empty spot of carpeted floor for the first time. You little tease, you knew what you were doing. 
Grinning unabashedly as you tug on his arm, “Come on! There’s one more place to look.”
As you pulled him along to the kitchen, Nanami had held out the hope that maybe - just maybe - this would be an actual attempt at finally paying off your overdue rent. Maybe he could walk out of this unscathed and holding onto whatever’s left of his dignity (and lacking the raging boner that was threatening against his slacks right now).
But every feeble hope of that was thrown out the window the moment you instructed him to hold the rickety, certainly unsafe chair propped up in front of your counter steady. 
“I swear I must’ve left it somewhere up there.” you grumble. Not wasting a moment before climbing onto it and rifling on top of your high cabinets. “No harm in trying, right?”
He gulps, palms getting sweaty on the wooden back of the chair with the effort to keep it still. “Are you sure you left it on top of there?”
“Huh? Yes yes, of course.” you answer absentmindedly. Your shirt snagging on your arms as you raise them even higher, “Think you can see something from down there?”
If Nanami could see the top of your shelves, then he didn’t want to find out - not when one glance upwards blessed him with a forbidden glimpse right up your t-shirt. All it took was a flash of skin before he was hit with the realization that you weren’t wearing a bra. 
“Ken~”
“Fuck!” he breathes, when he looks up involuntarily at the sound of his name. Face burning when you raise a brow, “U-um, m’not sure.” 
Yeah, he sure could see something - hell, he wanted to see more. 
He urgently swipes at the sweat slowly beading at his forehead, immediately regretting his actions when the chair tips ever-so-slightly. “Shit, I apologize, n’ I also apologize for what I’m about to do-” He gasps over your soft yelp, before wrapping two warm hands around the small of your waist. Searing. Soft. Planting you softly on the firm floor like some lil’ ragdoll, “-but I can’t let you put yourself in danger this way.”
Before you know it, you’re back in the safety of the ground. Stood right in front of a determined Nanami as he cranes his head up in your stuffy kitchen, backed up against the counter as he takes over looking for your wallet. 
“Let me, instead.” he grunts. 
But oh even with how genius he thought it was to look instead - even with how he stopped himself from looking at that sinful little slice of heaven - Nanami Kento had another problem. 
A problem that presented itself in the way that your body was pressed flush against his muscled chest, two of your thighs straddling his thick ones. Caged perfectly against him, exactly in the way he shouldn’t have been imagining - but did, anyway. And shit if he angled his body just right he could feel the heat of your core - the way your eager front was drawing in closer. 
“Ah-” he grunts when your soft palm glides lightly across his pecs. Jaw clenching while he tries to blink his hazy eyes back into the glaringly empty top of your cabinets, “My apologies, seems uh- your wallet isn’t- here-” 
Each word is wrenching out of his pretty, worry-bitten lips, a ragged gasp with every accidental brush of the pads of your fingers at the hem of his tight pants. 
“It isn’t there, hm?” you purr, a low honeyed tone that has all the blood in Nanami’s body rushing to his fat cock. “Well what do you suppose we do about that, Ken? Since I can’t pay the rent?”
Nanami doesn’t know whether you’re talking about the rent or that massive tent in his pants he really couldn’t explain away. Instead, he spits, “You knew what you were hah- doing, didn’t you, you lil’ minx? You don’t have your fuckin’ wallet here.”
And the air is so thick, so heady that he can only bring himself to pull away mere millimeters from where he was hovering near your face. 
But even that was too much - and in a split-second, you have your deft fingers wrapped tightly around his speckled tie. “And if I did?” Pulling close enough to ghost your lips against his, “You’re smart, Ken. So m’asking once again, what do you suppose we do about that?”
As if to draw out the answer from him, you’re giving a long, hard drag of your hot cunt along the outline of his swollen cock. You could almost feel every throb and nudge of his veins along the side, and it made you salivate.
“I suppose…” he answers, guttural, like some dark, primal part of himself is peaking its head out with each hot breath fanning your face. A large hand coming up to squish your cheeks into a pretty pout, pursing your lips perfectly for him. “That you hit me if you don’t like this, darling.”
And fuck for all how much of a gentleman Nanami acted - he kissed the exact opposite. All but ruining your lips in such a messy clash of teeth and tongue and him. Devouring you. 
“Fuck- shoulda known.” he’s letting out a humorless laugh, swiping his tongue across your glossy lower lips. “Should’ve known when you invited me in. Such a tease.” Drinking in your breathless moans, sucking on your tongue, “Such a- ngh- horny lil’ thing. This what you wanted all along?”
You hum into the kiss so drunk, “Maybe.” Dancing your hands all across where his toned muscles were fighting against the restraints of his shirt, “But you really can’t blame me.”
And maybe it was true - maybe this was inevitable. Either way, Nanami didn’t know, nor did he really care - not when you were letting out such sweet gasps when he bites down on your bottom lip - just a little punishment. Kissing his way down your heated skin, giving a languid lick at where he suspected that secret sensitive spot on your neck would be. 
“Oh! Ken.” you moan. Bingo. 
He’s unbuttoned his shirt now - or maybe it was you. Fuck, either way you couldn’t tear your eyes off of his pretty washboard abs. Curving and dipping like he was sculpted meticulously. 
And that’s all it takes for your already-dripping cunt to grow impossibly wetter, and he could feel it leaking through those flimsy cotton shorts of yours. Forming a messy sheen right at that damp spot of precum on his pants.
“You’re so fuckin’ wet, my love.” Nanami murmurs, swiping a thumb down that sopping wet slit of yours through your shorts. Just marveling at the way that simple touch makes another wave of your sweet sweet juices bead through the fabric. “Hah, absolutely dripping. This all f’me?”
At your half-delirious nod, he flashes you a smile so handsome that it only makes you squirm more impatiently. “How sweet.” Giving your nose a chaste peck, “So good to me. So needy.”
“You’re the same, though.” you accuse, hotly.
And it’s true - Nanami couldn’t deny the aching need of his cock, the way he all but moans in response, “Then tell me- hngh tell me what you want. I’ll give you- anything-” Managing to get out through hot, sloppy kisses planted right on your wobbly lips, “-anything.”
But, ah, you always did manage to surprise him. And instead of an answer, you’re getting right down on your knees in front of him like you did not too long ago - though, this time, you’re reaching up to fumble with his belt. 
“Wan’ taste you.” you huff when his expensive notches prove too stubborn. “Wan’ feel you in my mouth so bad, Ken.” 
“Oh yeah?” he chuckles darkly, easily loosening his belt and his pants along with it. Rock-hard cock sensitive and just smearing a pool of precum where his fat head springs up to hit your lips. Such a pretty shade of gloss. Nanami laces his hand on your scalp to guide you forwards, slowly, “Then take it. Take it f’me, pretty.”
He was so pretty that you possibly couldn’t not - a delicate blushing red at his very tip, glistening and absolutely soaked in precum down the long path to his creamy base, his heavy balls. So girthy that it made your cunt clench in anticipation.
And then there’s no more talking. Hell, you barely get enough time to admire Nanami’s massive cock before he’s bullying it between your lips. Wetting his thick, angry tip with your saliva, just enough to eye down at the way your lips bulge so prettily around him. 
“Gonna hafta open w-wider if you wanna take me, pretty. Open hah- yeah jus’ like that.” He’s reeling your head back, all the way till you were just kissing at his thick, angry tip. “Now spit on it, my love.”
Despite being the one to say it, Nanami’s mouth drops into a fucked-out little oh! of disbelief when you’re readily decorating his swollen length with a steady stream of spit. Your soft palms smearing the saliva along his length. 
You’re slurring, “After all, I still haven’t found my wallet, right?”
And oh he doesn’t even have to ask for what comes next - doesn’t even have to make a noise. 
Immediately, you take him in inch by fucking inch. The deliciously salty twang taking over your senses, and he’s so hot and heavy over your tongue. Veins pulsing in a dizzyingly throb! throb! throb! against the roof of your mouth.
“Are you- are you sure you can-” You shut up his doubts by rubbing your hot tongue along every sensitive ridge you could reach. Bobbing your head at a quick, ruthless little pace to milk his pretty cock for all he’s worth. 
Nanami’s eyes roll to the back of his head. Was this what heaven felt like? 
“F-fuuuck, oh you-” his words are catching in his throat with each flick of the tip of your tongue against his sensitive slit. Just the way he liked it. “-ngh guess that sharp mouth of yours wasn’t just hah- good for teasing, huh?”
He’s running his mouth a mile a minute - the complete opposite of the reserved man that’d come knocking on your door. Hips grinding up into your warm tongue mindlessly, slow. Languid - like he didn’t even realize what he was doing. “Oh you feel so heavenly- so fuckin’ good it should be illegal.”
You can’t help but bat your teary eyes up at him in response, blinking away the lustful haze to drink in that utterly obscene sight above you. Nanami’s neat, blond hair uncharacteristically disheveled, stray strands sticking to his furrowed brow. Only deepening with each wrecked sigh that leaves his plump lips every time his abs flex with the movement of his fat head hitting the gummy back of your throat. 
He looks so pretty it makes you moan. 
Those electric vibrations going all the way down that wet divot on the tip of Nanami’s painfully hard cock to his heavy balls. 
“Oh shit- shit shit shit feels too good.” his words are slurring together, drunk off the way you gag around him. “Don’t do that don’t-” This only makes you drag your sloppy mouth down him deeper, syrupy moans sticking to
him all the while. 
“Fuck!” Nanami shudders. And he’s pulling you down - hard - barely letting you get a feverish little breath out until your nose is hitting the neat patch of blond at his base. Rubbing up against his toned pelvis. 
Still moving in deep, relentless thrusts inside your gummy cavern. “S’real fuckin’ hard to treat you as nice as I want when you act like that, my love.”
And, of course, the only response he gets are your pathetic, wet gurgles as you take him in faster. Cheeks hollowing to massaging his every sweet spot. Your jaw grinding against his twitching balls with each smack of his hypnotized hips against your mouth, fucking into you the way he wished he could do with your cunt. Frenzied. Sloppy. 
Yeah, this was heaven alright - but you were the fuckin’ devil. 
Of course, you wanted him to treat you like such a slut - so he does. 
Just dragging your stubborn mouth off of his twitching cock, Nanami only reaches down to place an accomplished peck on the pout of your mouth before hoisting you onto the counter. “What? You think I’d really ngh- cum before my darling girl?”
He’s groaning into your mouth, licking at the seam of your candied lips as two strong arms of his spread your legs so far apart it burned. “F-fuck, Ken-”
“Aw look. You’ve got another slutty pair, huh?” he gestures down at the drenched scrap of fabric you so proudly called “panties.” Sliding a thumb underneath to glide it underneath your puffy pussy lips. He’s echoing your sentiment from before, “Said you can’t find your hah- wallet, right?” Well, ya better start makin’ up for that now.”
In all of two seconds, Nanami’s hooking two fingers over your underwear - pulling - ripping. He was right -  Nanami takes a moment to admire your dripping cunt, glistening and needy for him - he could rip those panties right off of you. 
With just one hand pinning you to the cool marble of your counter, the other thumbing open your puffy folds, he’s giving all of your pussy a hot, open-mouthed kiss. 
“Mmm fuck-” he spits into your sloppy hole. Once. Twice. Letting it form a saturated little pool of your juices, before surging back nose-deep with a pained grunt. Again. And again. And again and again- “Jus’ as sweet- as sugary sweet ngh-”
Nanami didn’t think Higuruma knew about this little treasure trove when describing you - though, if he did, then he was well and fully intent on tongue-fucking every little thought out of him right now. 
“Hngh! Shit-” you’re keening when his greedy tongue laps up every bit of your syrupy sweet slick. Alternating - methodically, indecisively - between rolling over your throbbing clit and just dipping into your awaiting entrance. “It feels so- so good, Ken.”
“Yeah that’s right.” he gasps, wrapping those pretty pink lips of his to suck on your clit. Harsh. “Say my name- no, louder. Louder.” 
It’s all you can do to not just scream out his name without your neighbors filing a noise complaint. Dragging your sopping pussy all over his mouth - glistening and obscene right down the bottom half of his face all the way up to smear against his clear glasses. 
Such obscene squelches ring through your kitchen as Nanami keeps making out so messily with your sensitive nub. Ringing in your fucked-out brain, so obscene, so addictive that you barely even register the thick fingers dipping their way around your hole. 
You jolt when the cool metal of his glasses kiss your skin, “O-oh Ken what-” 
“Shhh shhh, darling.” he soothes. The tip of his manicured index circling around your elastic muscle. Hypnotic. “M’gonna take care of you. Gonna take such good-” With this, he’s bullying his fingers inside, “-care of you.”
Tears crinkle at the corners of your eyes at the sheer stimulation. Because for how sweet Nanami was talking you through this, he was absolutely ruthless on your cunt. Not half the man he was this morning - animalistic. Feral, even.
His sharp jaw grinding against your skin, fingers almost a blur with how depraved they were pumping in and out of you. Massaging every hidden corner of your plushy walls, yet you get the feeling that they were calculated. Nanami’s darkened eyes drinking in every whimper and twitch of your body over the glasses inching dangerously downwards. Searching, waiting for that one-
“Ngh!” You worry you’d have fallen off the counter if it wasn’t for Nanami holding you down. Body jolting at sudden electricity running through your veins, “Oh- fuck fuck fuck. Oh my god Ken, there. Right there–”
But before the sentence has even left your heavy lips, he’s hitting your g-spot once more. Easily finding the bullseye that has you bucking and arching into his mouth like such a slut. 
And this time - Nanami lets you use his mouth all you want. The fingers splayed out to pin you down moves to toy with your puffy clit. Rolling between his fingers while he hisses out syrupy sweet praises, “Shit, never liked m’name that much- ngh- but it sounds so pretty on your lips. So sweet. So- oh-” 
The sight of your cunt just beading with need has him kissing it once more. All over your sensitive nub, your ravaged hole, hell, even down to the mess of slick dripping down at your thighs. Faster. Sloppier. No rhythm or rhyme anymore. 
“M’so close.” you whine, weaving your fingers through his blond hair to help ride his face easier. Jolting with each purposeful flick of his tongue. “Gonna cum, Ken.”
“Cum then.” he answers, simply, grinning a guiltily glossy grin, “You’ve got a lot to make up for, right?”
And then you do - stars behind your eyes and that little nickname you’d made Nanami in your mouth. Over and over while he tonguefucks you through your high. 
“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck–” you whine, big fat tears rolling down your cheeks eat time he swiped at your sensitive spots, dragging it out longer. Until your soft whimpers were drowning out the squelches from below. Until you were blinking your spotty vision back. Until you were squirming your hips higher up the counter to pull away from Nanami’s unforgiving tactics. “M’too sensitive- Nana-”
He tuts, interrupting your orgasm-drunk babbles, “Tha’s not what you call me.” Pulling away just enough to hum, “All I did was eat this pretty cunt out, darling n’ you already forgot my name?”
You shiver - both at his mean little tone and the absolutely sinful sight between your shaky thighs. Nanami’s lips plump and irritated, eyes foggy - glasses even more so with all the sloppy dredges of spit and your slick.
Shit, you think he’s never looked prettier. 
“Is that so?”
It’s all you hear before you’re hit with his glasses being gently placed onto your nose bridge - followed shortly by the realization that oh, you said that out loud. But Nanami basks in your sudden shyness, giving your lips a chaste, lingering peck. “You dirtied my glasses, y’know. Now you have to make up for that on top of the rent.”
And by the feeling of his thick tip kissing at your pussy lips, you had a very good idea about how you’d be making up for it. Making a mess. Sliding the curve of his head up and down. Up and down up and down up and-
“B-but don’t forget.” you manage to grit out by the time he’s nudging his divot against your clit. “You have to make- hah- make up for-” 
In a fluid motion, you’re reaching your fingers to dig into the irresistible tan skin at his hips, all hard muscle and the thick fabric of where he’d pulled his pants down just enough. You press down on his bulging back pocket, smirk growing at the familiar flash of hot pink you could spy, “-my panties.”
The moment the obscene little accusation leaves your lips, you give a soft tug forwards. Nanami’s towering body being pulled easily to push his weeping tip past your puffy folds. 
“F-fuck.” he’s throwing his head back at the feeling. “You hngh- saw, huh?”
Oh, if he hadn’t been imagining this the moment he’d stepped inside your apartment then Nanami thinks he might’ve just passed out right then and there. 
Because you were so warm, so addictive wrapped around his cock - even when he’s barely even in. That he just has to keep going - after all, it’s for the rent, right?
It’s what he likes to think.
It’s what he whispers - over and over into your open mouth as he bullies his thick cock past your gummy entrance. Letting your plush walls suck the ever-loving soul out of him with each lazy, lingering grind just to fit himself inside. 
“O-oh! Shit-” your nails leave jagged red marks down Nanami’s broad shoulders when he stuffs you full. Desperate. “Y-you’re so big, Ken–” 
At this, you feel Nanami’s girth grow even wider, stretching your walls until it felt like he was molding your poor pussy to the shape. Just reaching into your lungs. You squeal, “Wait- you got bigger- what-”
“I know I know, You got it, my love.” he’s soothing your cries with sugary kisses at the corners of your mouth. Drawing slow, methodical circles on your clit in time with his experimental thrusts. “You got it. You can take it. Shhh shh-” He’s drinking in your cute mewls, cupping your pretty face with his free hand, “You’ll take it right? All of it, like my good girl? You’ve gotta make up for it, right?” At your delirious nod, “Words, pretty.”
“Yes, please.” You buck your hips in a sultry tandem matching his, the cool frame of his glasses still kissing at your skin. “M’gonna take it all like your good girl, Ken.”
Shit, he can feel himself growing even bigger just halfway into you, “Then-” Angling your teary face down to watch the mess down below. The way your greedy cunt was trying to milk each and every inch of him like it was delicious. “-look.”
You can’t tear your eyes away as he delves into you so filthy. 
Not waiting for your pathetic whines about him being “too big” - no, Nanami’s only pulling you back from escaping like some sextoy - his favorite one. Still toying sweetly with your clit while he pushes against that feeble ring of resistance. Once. Twice. Thrice. 
“Ken!” you’re yelping out when he finally bottoms out. Your swollen folds meeting his drenched hilt, blond tufts of hair brushing up against your pelvis. Sighing, ”Finally.”
“Finally?” he’s dragging out his words with an already-crooked, pussydrunk grin. Eyes wild - bewildered almost at how well you were taking him. “S-seriously? Did you say ngh- ‘finally’, my girl?” Each word has him tapping more strength behind those thrusts, faster. Harder. Spitting out so contendly, “Finally- hah. Such a slut f’me, hm?”
He’s plunging into you like such an animal right now, so harsh that it was almost difficult to pull back. To dare subject himself to not be buried inside your dripping cunt for even a split-second. 
In response, you lick a long stripe up the sensitive area of his neck, splaying out a hand to squeeze Nanami’s pec - and the rapid heartbeat you felt beneath it. “You’re not- ngh- any better.”
“I know.” Nanami leers, unabashedly kneading at your sore tits now. Fucking you harder and harder into the counter. Connecting his sweaty forehead with yours to look you right in the eyes as he gruffs, “I’ve been thinking about fucking this pretty cunt as soon as you opened that door, y’know.”
You feel his cock twitch wildly at the confession, dragging against your gummy walls with his tip. Hitting - oh-so-expertly - that one sensitive honeypot of nerves. Which makes Nanami’s mouth fall slack with what a treasure you were. 
“Y-you’re such a-” you’re moans are syrupy and slurring together now. Holding onto the larger man for dear life, “such a pervert, Ken.”
Shit, you were squeezing around him so hard that it was almost impossible to pull out. Abs straining to keep up the loud staccato of skin-against-skin, and Nanami’s long, jagged rams inside your wet heaven.
Nanami’s nosing down your pulse, letting his hot tongue loll out to catch the salty drops of your tears, “Mhm, only for hngh- you. Because you’re my girl now, aren’t ya?”
So easy for him to trawl out those addictive moans with each drag of the upwards curve of his fat cock. Thick tip hitting your g-spot, your cervix - as if he was branding his name into your pretty pussy from the inside. Sloppy. 
Leaving a bruising little Kento. With his erratic fingers pinching and rolling your clit at the same feverish tempo of his cock bullying inside your cunt - Kento. With his heavy balls smacking against your ass, sending jolts of white-hot pleasure all the way up to his sensitive slit, rubbing up against your succubus walls - Kento. With the way your heels were now digging into those dimples at the bottom of his spine, sure to leave marks with the way you were pulling him impossibly closer. So needy - Kento.
Only getting sloppier. The only thing in your mind right now - Kento Kento Kento-
So, really, it makes sense when that’s the only thing you’re capable of getting out once you cum. It sneaks up on you at first, and then all at once - and before you know it, you’re cumming so desperately all over Nanami’s relentless cock. 
Over and over.
Your thighs spasming, such a slutty ah! ah! ah! leaving your mouth with each wave of pleasure he’s forcing out of you by targeting your ravaged g-spot. Only a few more of those sloppy, mean thrusts left in the man himself before Nanami’s spilling into your greedy cunt. 
Painting your gummy walls white with each painful squeeze of his balls, he’s still thrusting - as if on instinct. Shoving his seed deeper and deeper down your cum-filled hole until he’s sure it’s overfilled. 
By god were you a vision, he’s thinking deliriously. Tears pooling at your eyes, drool dripping down the corner of your mouth, throat to shoot to do anything but whimper when he keeps going in and out in and out in and-
And if he angled his head just right, he could see the hot globs of cum that take to trickling out from your puffy folds, pooling at a mouthwateringly creamy base around his hilt.
“Ah,” Nanami wastes no time squeezing his index into your already-bulging entrance, pumping the cum slobbering out back in. “Better- hah- better not waste any-” He could barely speak right now, cumming harder than he has in his whole life - in fact, his overworked cock was still shooting out wispy spurts of his seed. Like he couldn’t stop. “-after all, y’haven’t made up for all the overdue rent yet, my love.”
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A/N. Concept inspired by this NSFW audio by IchigekiVA that my friend sent me <3
Plagiarism of work not authorized.
7K notes · View notes
chuluoyi · 6 months
Text
࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 11:07 P.M 」
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divorce scare apology fic🤞🏻 yes people, in the spirit of april 1, it’s gojo who is having dreams :)) and i promise you it’s straight up comfort fic~
a part of gojo's love entries
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you’ve known something is bugging satoru as he hasn’t been teasing the heck out of you for these past three days.
and you were proven true when tonight, on your marital bed, he said—
“so… i’ve been thinking…” he started, seemingly deep in thought, playing with your hair. “oh, more like it’s because of this one bad dream…”
“what are you on about?” you raised an eyebrow. okay, you knew something was up with him, but him being a bit skittish made you a bit worried.
“umm, yeah. so, the other day i had this dream about us in tokyo district court—”
“district court—?”
“—getting a divorce, yeah.”
your eyes rounded, and satoru could feel himself almost regretting his words seeing your stunned expression, so he added a band-aid—
“no, it was just a dream! i’m not divorcing you, okay?!”
however, your expression had soured, as you looked down, visibly heartbroken. alarmed, satoru immediately pulled you to his chest.
“oh, ooh— there, there,” he soothed you, stroking your hair. “sweets, no. never. okay? i’m just telling you, just like what you did the other day.”
you had a dream of him cheating on you once, but this was wholly different.
“you’re the worst,” you accused, and despite yourself, you felt an ache in your chest. “how could such thought even cross your mind— that you dream about it?”
“if i can pick my dream… i’ll pick the memory from our honeymoon— precisely when i ripped your black and pink lingerie off and made you scream my name, you know that.”
you huffed, burying your face in his chest. “hmph. explain.”
satoru smiled, finding you so incredibly precious. silly wifey.
he proceeded as he pat your back. “nothing really, i’m still bitter too! no way in hell! but then i started thinking… what would you do in 0.001% chance of us being divorced?”
you pulled away, growling. “…so there’s still a chance—!”
“noooo! that’s statistically impossible! aren’t we having a late night talk? we’re always talking about imaginary scenarios at night, aren’t we?!”
what was the point of this? it was only upsetting you with each second.
“how could you ask me that?” you glared at him resentfully. “if we’re divorced, then—” you grabbed his hand and placed it on your belly. “what about baby? do you not want to see him anymore?”
and in that moment it seemed like he just realized it too as he sheepishly scratched his head, mouth gaping. “ah—”
his response caused your hormones to stir, and combined by your disbelief, you spitefully threw his hand away and turned to your side, refusing to face him.
“if you dare to divorce me, i’ll move out japan at a moment’s notice,” you spat out, crossing your arms. “i won’t let you see my baby— and i’ll put a restraining order on you too, just so you see.”
“whoa, wait—”
“or i can also jump from yasohachi bridge and then become a curse—i’ll haunt you to your dying days!”
“—?! you can’t do that!”
“oh, i can also remarry! i’ll marry ichiji so fast and by the time the baby is born, your kid will have his name instead!”
“ichi— hey! that’s insulting! i would’ve forgiven if it was nanami, but ichiji?!”
“shut up! you’re— you’re annoying!”
in hindsight, this wasn’t something you should get this much worked up for. satoru was obviously just being his dense self and you knew it, but somehow the thought of him suddenly not by your side anymore hurt you— and perhaps your unstable hormones played a part too.
. . . but then his strong arms wrapped around you in that instant, enveloping you in his warm and reassuring embrace from behind. “hey… sweets, don’t be mad…”
“…”
“if you do, baby will also be—”
“you are making us mad.”
“okay, okay.” satoru sighed, his right palm reaching out to caress your five-month baby bump, and his voice was tinted with slight regret as he replied, “sorry…”
you melted a bit, but still gave him the cold shoulder, showing how cross you were that he brought it up in the first place.
and both of you stayed that way for a while, and you started to get sleepy, until you heard him muttering—
“still… whatever you do,” his voice sounded strained, and it made you awake again. “even when i’m not here… you can’t get yourself hurt, alright?”
“what does that mean?” you finally turned towards him, your eyes shone with slight panic. “what do you mean with you not being here?”
“nothing, sweetheart.” satoru grinned, pinching your cheek. “just saying—since i’m away often, don’t do anything reckless, you can get hurt.”
“don’t put it as if you’re going to go some place far away.” you didn’t know what you were spouting now, but you were tired and just didn’t want to pursue this conversation any longer.
you bit your lip, not looking at him. “or… i’ll get sad.”
seeing you so vulnerable and open like this made satoru realize that as much as he needed you to stay sane, you also needed him. the clarity stirred something within him, causing warmth to rapidly spread in his chest.
and he felt soft. so soft for you. and he adored you, more than anyone else in this wretched world.
“aw, look at my baby girl.” your husband cradled you close to him with a wide grin, patting you soothingly, his heart fluttering. “how can i leave you be a single mother? i’m here, yeah? always.”
and you believed him. otherwise, you were willing to risk it all just to get him home, by your side.
you smushed your face into his chest, ignoring your burning face. “hmph, being a single mother isn’t that bad. i can still drain your wealth.”
“huh?! wait, you just said you’ll be sad without me!”
and you thought, being in his embrace is the most comforting place of all.
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epilogue
“by the way, i just realized…” satoru fixed his frown on you accusingly in the next morning. “how is your taste in men so bad? why ichiji as your first pick?”
“uh,” you were at a loss of words, totally not expecting this discussion on a brand new morning. “because… he’s kind? he’s easiest to sway—”
“so you’re saying… you can seduce him easily?!”
“…sort of? but you’re right, i should go for nanami. he’s way good-looking. or his apprentice… what’s his name again? ino takuma—”
“nanami? ino?! wait a minute…! y-you’re my wife… but you’re also thinking about which man is easier to seduce and which is more attractive?!”
“uh— you’re the one asking first!”
“still! so you do think about them! about weaker, lesser men who are not me!”
“nanami is not—!”
“hoh?! so it’s nanami, huh!?”
“don’t you dare to start anything, gojo satoru,” you hissed. “you said my taste in men is bad. so that includes you too.”
“wha?!”
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lis-likes-fics · 24 days
Text
Casual
Pairing: bff!Eddie Munson x Reader Word Count: 12.3k words Warnings: NSFW, smut, protected sex (birth control), virginity loss, friends with benefits, Eddie talks you through it, constant consent, humor during sex, Eddie calls you "mama" but no mommy kink, fondling, slight hair pulling, oral (f!receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, a million different positions, slight edging?, L-bombs but not romantically, swearing... A/N: So I wrote this as a best friends with benefits thing and not a best friends to lovers, but the line gets blurry sometimes with besties. I really fucking loved this one because they're like...they literally never stop being besties, they're so fucking dumb, I love them. So yeah, this is platonic in the least platonic way possible, and I love that for them. Thank you so much and enjoy! A/N #2: While I was writing the first author's note, my typing kept popping my ears. *cries in adhd like a little bitch*
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Eddie finds you in his bedroom doorway moments after hearing the front door close. He half expected Wayne to be coming back home early from work, but that didn’t make sense because he only left an hour ago and he probably would have called ahead.
But, no. You stand there with damp hair from a fresh shower and dressed down in some shirt you stole from his drawer and pajama pants. He raises a brow. He hadn’t been expecting you, but he isn’t surprised in the slightest. He doesn’t even bother to move from his spot, leaning back on his bed with an arm behind his head and a book in his hand.
“Hey, there,” he mumbles.
You stare at him for a while, saying absolutely nothing. You don’t seem particularly pleased. He stares back. Neither of you move.
“I’m upset,” you finally say, still staring, still standing.
If Eddie’s remembering correctly, you’re supposed to be out on a date. So hearing that you’re upset isn’t necessarily pleasing to him. Judging by the time, you should have had a very entertaining night. But apparently not.
He’s the first to move as he lets his book fall down to his lap. “Why?”
You think for a moment and then drop your stuff at his door, walking inside as you use your foot to close the door. There’s a long pause between speaking, as you use it to walk around his room and look at all of his stuff. “It’s sort of embarrassing.” You pick up a random pepper shaker on his desk, swirling it around and then turning on your heel to look at him.
He’s got his head tilted to his shoulder with a look on his face that reads “seriously?”. He sits up, lifting a brow. “I’ve seen and learned a lot about you since we became friends, so I doubt there’s anything you could do or say to embarrass yourself in front of me.”
You roll your eyes, licking your lips as you set the pepper shaker down again. “Okay, well…” you trail out, trying to decide how you want to tell him. “You know how I had that date?”
He puts his book away, crossing his legs and leaning back on his elbows. “The drive in?”
“The drive in.”
“What about it?”
“Well…” you sigh. “Okay, so…” You lick your bottom lip, trying to form the words. You’re never shy in front of him, so there must be something wrong. You chew on your lip, thinking to yourself with a heavy sigh. You plop down onto the bed next to him. “God, so, we got there and the movie was fine and whatever–” you roll your eyes, “–and we watched most of it but at some point, we started, like, kissing, and whatever, right?”
Eddie shrugs, laying back to stare at the ceiling as you continue to recount your night. “Yeah.”
“And it got a little…”
He raises a hand to prompt you, “Hot and heavy?”
“Yeah.” You look down at your lap where you fiddle with your fingers. “So we drove away somewhere more…more private?”
He looks at you, sitting back up enough to fully see your face as he smirks lightly. He gives you this devilish look that makes you want to hit him. “Did you...?”
You nod a little. “Yeah.”
Swallowing thickly, you watch his face shift as he takes in your demeanor. His head slumps to one side, his smirk falling off his face. “Oh…” he mumbles. “How do you feel?”
You stare at him. He can see you mulling over your response as you struggle to find the right words. Despite yourself, you feel a knot tying itself in your throat. You force it down and away, pretending it’s not there and hoping it’ll help. And it does…for now, at least.
“I’m upset.”
He cringes a little, lifting an arm to give you a place to lean into him. “That bad?”
You bury your face in his shoulder and pout. “Yeah.” You pull away suddenly. “I mean, I know everyone’s first time sucks ass and whatever, but, like…” You drop your head in your hands, wiping at your face as you find yourself glad for washing your makeup off earlier. “Eddie, I didn’t even…”
He almost seems offended. He doesn’t care about announcing it because you’re alone and also it’s outrageous. “You didn’t cum?”
“No!” you exclaim. “I…faked it.” You’re almost disgusted with yourself for it. It sort of just happened in the moment. He was clumsy in trying to get you there, but it wasn’t working. You just wanted to end it off and move on, so you just…made the sounds and the faces. He seemed pleased enough. “I feel kinda bad. I mean, he was sweet and all, and he, like… He tried, but…”
His question is crude with as little hesitation as humanly possible. Again, he doesn’t care about being awkward or guarded because you’re his best friend, and you’ve talked about worse, and there’s no filter with you. “How big was he?”
“Eddie, what?” Usually you wouldn’t mind his brashness, but you’re still trying to get over the events of a couple hours ago.
“Honest question,” he shrugs. “I just wanna know. Was he like…” he lifts his hand, squinting his eyes and hunching over and pinching his fingers together, “little?”
You shrug. His bluntness is rubbing off on you. You feel a little less awkward and you hunch a little less. “He was fine…just a little too…short? To reach?”
He makes a face, like he’s shocked and disgusted. He looks you up and down almost like it’s your dick. “That’s rough,” he says. “How many times did he cum?”
“Why do you assume he came?” you raise a brow.
He rolls his eyes with a scoff. “Please, guys always cum.”
You roll your own eyes and push yourself off the bed. You’re roaming his room again as you mess with all of his stuff. You open his drawer and ruffle through his unfolded clothes, you pick up empty beer cans and turn up your nose at the smell, you strum the strings of his acoustic. You do all of this instead of looking at him when you answer. “Twice.”
“Oh.” You fake disgust when he looks at you, smirking and bobbing his brows at you. “You must’ve been really fuckin’ nice.” He makes this weird growling sound, and the “ew” that comes out of you is guttural. He snorts happily, and then his humor is gone as he deadpans, “Or he’s a lightweight. Did he cum inside?”
You’re sick of him.
You shake your head. “I made him wrap it.”
“Aren’t you on the pill?”
“Yeah.” He hums.
He watches you lean back against his desk, looking at this weird mask he had just sitting among the chaos. You move it around in your hands and force down the heat in your throat at the recounting going on in your head. Swallowing it down is a hard task that ultimately fails as he watches you begin to choke on the unshed tears.
He sighs, his chest warm with a bitter emotion as he watches your waterline threaten to spill over. “Oh, c’mere.” He stands from the bed, opening his arms wide to pull you into a bone crushing hug. It’s warm and it hurts and it feels so nice. He smells like he always does, green apple shampoo stolen from your house and cheap cologne and cigarettes. It’s a nice smell.
“I guess I like…I don’t know, I expected a little more. It was…really disappointing.” A couple of tears manage to get past you, and it pisses you off but you’re already over it. “I wanted…to get rid of it, and now it’s gone but it doesn’t feel like anything’s changed, but it also feels like everything’s changed, but not in a good way.”
He rubs your back, listening to you as you need him to listen. “I’m sorry,” he mutters when you stop. He sets his chin atop your head after a kiss to your forehead. Part of him wants to square up with the dude you went out with, but he sets that urge to the side in order to comfort you. “That fuckin’ sucks, and you deserve so much more.”
After a moment, you pull away from him, wiping at your face with a huff. “It’s stupid.”
“S’not stupid.”
You don’t argue, you just throw yourself onto his bed, laying flat on your back with your arms and legs spread so wide that you take up nearly all the space left. Eddie watches you lay there with your eyes closed and your breath slowed. He thinks you’re really pretty, especially right now with you wearing his shirt. He almost hates himself for thinking to ask–
“Look, it might be…creepy and weird to ask and—Jesus, if I’m being creepy, I want you to fuckin’ punch me s hard as you can—but, shit, maybe I should shut up.”
His rambling is cut off by you, still lounging on his bed. You haven’t moved, your eyes are still closed. You don’t seem fazed at all by his awkwardness. “What are you about to ask me, Ed?”
He sighs, sitting next to you with his foot shoved underneath him. He sets his hand on your thigh. You still don’t move, used to his touchy-communication. “What happened tonight fuckin’ sucks–”
“You say ‘sucks’ a lot.”
“It’s a nice word.”
You peek at him through one opened eyes. “You’re weird.”
“Nevertheless–” You laugh. He watches your belly tense as you do it, rolling over to sit up and witness his fumbling with opened eyes. “As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted…”
You laugh again, and he’s happy he could do that for you, especially after your rough night. You’re happy you could ease his worries, because he was being awkward, and Eddie isn’t usually awkward with you, and you know he likes your stupid jokes.
He takes a breath and starts again. “What happened sucks, and—only if you want to—I would be willing—if you’re comfortable—to…fix it for you.”
You raise a confused brow, less confused and more vaguely unbelieving. “Fix it…for me?” you echo.
He shrugs. “I don’t like when you cry, and I want to make you feel better. I’m not a total expert on sex, but I think I know my way around it pretty well.” He puts his hands together like he’s going to pray and points them toward you. “If you want…I can help.”
You raise a brow and stifle the smirk threatening to grace your lips, ready to tease him in order to push down the flush of heat rushing through you. “You wanna fuck me.”
He raises his hands. “I want to fuck you if you want me to fuck you. To help. But I’d love to fuck you… if you want…me to fuck you.” There’s a pause. “Maybe.”
You look away, scratching your head in thought. “Since when have you wanted to fuck me?”
He smacks a hand down onto your thigh just to do it. “Babe, it’s always been on the table. All you had to do was ask.” Whore.
You roll your eyes for the millionth time. “You’re such a guy.”
He shrugs like he doesn’t care at all. “Like I said, guys always cum.”
You raise a brow at him, shoving his hand off your knee to stand again. You jab an accusatory finger into his chest. “Is that to insinuate that you’ve cum thinking about me?”
“I– Okay, I did not– Listen here, you little shit.”
You laugh out loud, still pointing at him to make fun. “I’m kidding!” He fake laughs, and you return the favor by tilting your head and questioning him further. “But have you?”
To avoid it being awkward, he just shrugs nonchalantly and answers the question. “A couple times.” It works, even though you flush at the answer.
“What? That is so weird!”
“That is not weird.” He hopes you ignore the way his cheeks turn pink, powering through it with more brashness and more jokes. “It is completely normal to think of your best friend when you’re cranking one out.”
You shake your head definitely. “No, it’s not.”
He challenges you. “Have you ever cum thinking about me?”
Without turning your head, you glance away from him. “I don’t think that makes it normal.”
“So you have, is what I’m hearing.” You turn to him quickly, raising a finger as you try to speak over his ad libbing. He thinks he’s really funny, and it’s gonna make you scream.
“Listen–”
“Listening.”
You huff, glancing away and then looking back at him. Well, not really him, but the ends of his hair over his shoulders. “Maybe once or twice…” you shrug, “Maybe even thrice, but that’s not–”
“You little freak!” He points his finger at you, his whole face wide with amusement.
“Hey– Be nice to me. Or I’ll cry. You don’t like it when I cry.” You pout to give him a preview. You’re sure you could summon more tears if you really need to…
“You’re evil,” he shakes his head, looking up at you with a huge grin.
You bob your brows. “Yes, I am.”
He surprises you. In the next moment, his arms are wrapped around your midsection, and your feet lift off the ground. He takes you in his hold and turns you until you’re being slammed into the bed. You laugh as you bounce, squirming around to push him off of you as he pins you under his weight. Both of you are giddy with the amusement, laughing at each other and playing along with the other’s fun.
When you open your eyes and the laughter dies down, you realize that he’s actually pinning you to the bed. It sobers you up almost immediately, and you realize that he’s really close. He could kiss you right now if he really wanted to. You notice the exact moment he realizes it, too.
You gulp and take a breath for courage. Your voice is small—awkward—but it’s okay because he’s your best friend. “You can…” you mumble. “You can help, if you want to help.”
His eyes glance at your lips, and then he raises both his brows as he looks back at you. “You want me to?”
You nod, trying not to hold your breath to avoid dulling the charged air between you. “Yes, I want you to.”
He tilts his head and the tips of his hair tickles your cheek. “Is it because I have you pinned?”
“It helps.”
Eddie backs off of you, sitting back on his bed to allow you to sit back up. You do, crossing your legs underneath you. He thinks for a moment, watching you as he does. There’s a long pause where the both of you contemplate something, unsure if the other has the same thing in mind.
“Before we do anything,” he breaks the silence carefully and articulately, and you can see the moment that all his seriosity has set in, “I need explicit permission. And you gotta let me know how you’re feeling. I don’t wanna do anything to make you uncomfortable.”
You listen intently, nodding along as he lays down the rules. “Okay,” you say.
He tilts his head toward you, looking up at you through his bangs. His brown eyes are so pretty. You’ve always thought so. They’re so warm and loving, just like him. It’s the reason you became his friend in the first place: because he’s warm and loving. “S0?” he prompts, snapping you out of your thoughts.
You take in a deep breath and smile, lifting a hand and slowly setting it on his own. “I want you to have sex with me, Eddie.”
He visibly shudders, and you think he’s a sucker. Technically, he is, but whatever. “Jesus,” he mutters, running his free hand through his hair. Then he smacks yours away, and your chuckle turns into a snort. He always knows how to make you comfortable. “Okay.”
You turn your body to face him, clearing your throat. “So… How do we…?”
“Okay, so…” He makes a “shoo” motion with his hands, so you get confused and raise a brow. You slowly and hesitantly lean back onto your elbows, staring at him with all the silent questions you can muster. He rolls his eyes. “No, get up. Sit over there, whore.”
You roll your eyes at him in return, moving to sit at the head of his bed with your legs crossed in front of you. Playfully, he rolls his eyes yet again and shakes his head at you like he’s disappointed. Eddie turns to lounge across the foot of the bed, propping himself up on his elbow. “First, I want you to walk me through everything he did.”
“Okay,” you mumble, thinking back to what happened in that car. “Well, he kissed me. We made out for a bit, and then he pulled me into his lap.” You only glance at him as you speak, but he’s so nice about it that you don’t feel so weird talking to him about being poorly fucked. “And he took off my shirt. He was, like, moving my hips and stuff.”
“Okay.” He listens so closely. His full attention is on you and only you, and it feels nice.
“Then he, uh, he played with my nipples. You motion vaguely to your chest.
“Did he use his mouth?” he questions gently.
“Mhm.”
He shakes his head then. He’s still gentle but his tone leaves no room for argument. “You gotta say yes or no, sweetheart, or I’m not touchin’ you.”
That’s fair enough. “Yes.”
“And it felt good?”
“Yes.” It almost sounds like a question, but he understands what you mean.
“Okay,” he gestures toward you. “What else did he do?”
You think for a moment. It’s already becoming a little fuzzy as your mind becomes distracted by the thought of Eddie, your sweet, idiot Eddie, doing these things to you and making it feel good.
This is the same boy you’ve seen fall out of his van because he tripped on the step and totally ate shit hitting the ground. This is the same boy you’ve seen stuffing his face with marshmallows because he was dared to by Mike and Dustin, and he was trying to prove that he could do more than they originally dared for him.
This is also the same boy you’ve seen absolutely shred his guitar with some fingering skills you’ve been envious of. And the same boy who’s seen you cry a million times and wiped away all the tears with plenty of jokes and compliments and threats of violence as were humanly possible. If there’s anyone who can make you feel good, it’s him.
You shake the thoughts away in order to get them straight. “He laid me down on the seat,” you remember, “and took off his pants and stuff.” You don’t really need the “and stuff” but it does make it a little easier…for some reason.
He furrows his brow in question, tilting his head like he’s grossed out all of a sudden. “Okay?”
“And then he…” you stare at his Dio poster across the room, “put it inside.”
He lifts his lip in disgust. He’s done that a lot tonight in response to this guy. “That’s it?” he asks with more distaste than you thought possible.
“What do you mean?” you furrow your own brow this time.
“Baby,” he says effortlessly, like he’s said it a million times before (because he has), “there wasn’t even foreplay.” He sits up, “No wonder you didn’t get off, girls need foreplay. Guys don’t need shit. We just think about tits, and we’re hard.” He shrugs, “I’m thinking about tits right now. Hard as a rock.”
The face you make transcends the rolling of the eyes or the upturn of a lip as you scoff. “Eddie–”
“You gotta be built up,” he continues, brushing past his comment like he never said it to begin with. You consider his words, taking them as the truth because he knows way more about sex than you would. He’s no prodigy, maybe, but you’re barely out of your virginity, so he’s got more advantage than you. “Did you blow him?”
You glance up, a bitter tone in your words as you mutter the first part, “Between positions… yeah.”
You don’t think “disgust” fits anymore. He’s just annoyed and entirely displeased. “You blew him, and he didn’t blow you?”
“I thought the term was ‘eat me out’.”
He shrugs a shoulder absently. “Symmetry.”
You airquote your response. “Okay, ‘symmetry’.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Yes,” you reply finally, still tasting traces of your toothpaste in your mouth. “I blew him, but he didn’t blow me.”
Eddie makes a guttural sound to try to properly express the amount of offense he takes to this. “You know what, fuck this guy.” He leans forward, placing both his hands on your knees and holding them there as he stares at you with those big, brown eyes of his. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I got you now.”
It’s easy to take humor from that to avoid dealing with the arousal it sends through you. “You’re real confident.”
He’s not pulling back on anything, he has no reason to. He somehow becomes more intense as he effortlessly response, “Because I’m gonna fuckin’ eat you out like my life depends on it.”
“I–” There’s no way you can respond to that. “Oh. Uhm.” Your mind is immediately a jumbled mess of fantasies and incoherent words and more fantasies. There’s a heat between your thighs and an anticipation in your belly that makes it difficult to think.
“Relax,” he catches your sudden daze. He pats your thigh like it’s just something that he does and not a preface to him pulling them apart and having a feast. “You’ll be fine.”
“Okay.”
He gets up, stretching his arms high over his head to pop his back. You can’t help the way your eyes fall to the slip of his belly, spying a tattoo hidden away there underneath his shirt. “I’m gonna go take a shower.” He eyes you. “You don’t need any infections.”
You turn your lip up because you think he’s disgusting. “That’s gross, Eddie.”
He points at you. “But considerate.”
You get up specifically to push him away from you. “Go shower, you dirty whore.”
He winks at you. “Yes, mama.” You don’t know how to respond to that. “Get comfy, I’ll be out in a bit.”
You swallow thickly, trying not to dissolve into some pathetic puddle because he called you “Mama”. You’ve never been into that before, and all of a sudden, you can’t get the sound of it out of your head. He’s already long gone, leaving you alone in his room as you sit on his bed to wait for him.
You’re a total goner, you’re sure.
~
You’re going through more of his stuff by the time he comes out of the shower. You glance over your shoulder at him after the door closes, and you’re almost surprised by what you find.
It’s not like you haven’t seen Eddie shirtless before. The sight isn’t unusual to you, but given the context and the way his sweatpants hang low on his waist, giving the perfect view of his gentle V-line, his soft tummy. It’s a mouthwatering sight, and it’s taking everything to look away.
His hair is still dripping. The dampness is giving his curls a gentle shine in the lamp light in the room. He rubs his towel haphazardly through his hair as he speaks. “I know I’m gonna take them off anyway, but–”
He stops short when he finally looks up to see you. You’re rummaging through his drawers like the little thief that you are, your hand stopped somewhere in the second drawer in favor of watching him. But that’s not what makes him pause. It’s the fact that you’re in one of his shirts, one that goes down past the curve of your ass and stops short before even reaching your mid-thigh. Your legs are bare—you’ve discarded all your other clothes somewhere in the room and left yourself in some underwear and his shirt.
He always knew you were sexy. As your closest friend, it’s his duty to know how sexy you are, but this is another level and he doesn’t understand why.
Instead of pointing out the fact that his sweatpants are growing a sudden bulge, he gestures to the shirt. “Are you gonna steal that?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” He scratches the back of his neck, tossing his towel onto a chair stuffed in the corner of his room. It’s stacked high with clean laundry that he never got around to. He pays no mind to it when the towel and a couple of clothes fall to the floor immediately after.
Eddie takes a breath before he looks back at you. “C’mere,” he mumbles, raising a finger to make a come hither motion. You listen to him, walking over to stand in his space. Your hands rest at his sides because you always rest your hands at his sides, and, naturally, he holds you back.
“Remember,” he begins in a quiet voice (or as quiet as Eddie can be), “you gotta use your words. I gotta know if I’m hurting you, or I’m doing too much or too little.” His thumbs stroke your elbows. “You know your body better than anyone, but I’m gonna do my best to know it even more than that.”
You chuckle playfully. “Okay.”
“And you definitely, definitely have to let me know when I’m doing something right.”
“So you’ll keep doing it?” you guess.
He shakes his head and says in a flat voice, “No, to stroke my ego.”
You roll your eyes, and your humor is interrupted by his hand lifting to touch your cheek. You lean into it because his hands are warm. “You still wanna do this?” He’s completely serious, and a little nervous now as he looks at you.
You nod, raising one hand to wrap around the back of his neck. “I trust you, Eddie.”
He nods, mostly to himself. “Good. That’s good.” His tongue darts out to lick his lips. “That’s great,” he raises his brows. Then he sighs, glancing away from your intense gaze. “Let’s hope I don’t fall in love with you or something, or you’ll be getting your back blown out every night and twice on Sundays. Jesus H. Christ.”
You roll your eyes and shake your head at his ridiculousness, almost forgetting that he’s probably completely serious and you are about to fuck as you play into your banter. “You’re so–”
You don’t get to finish your sentence. You’re cut off by Eddie’s lips engulfing your own, warm and soft and really nice against your own. You let out a long breath, pulling him closer by the back of his neck as he takes a step forward into your space.
To be completely honest, you’ve kissed Eddie before. You’ve kissed him on a dare, you kissed him to trick people into thinking you’re dating. Hell—he was your first kiss because you and some friends were screwing around and then you happened to be picked to be locked in a closet for seven minutes because you were at a stupid party playing stupid games.
So the sensation isn’t completely new, but the making out part is. Eddie is a really good kisser.
When he pulls away, you aren’t really expecting it. He seems pleased by your daze as he bobs his brows. “So what?”
Instead of answering him, as you’ve forgotten what you were going to say, you kissed him again. It’s really nice, kissing someone. It’s nice to be this close, to breathe each other’s air, to taste each other’s lips. His tongue grazes your top lip, and you lean into it, because you trust him and it’s nice.
Eddie keeps you pulled close against his body as he starts stepping forward, keeping you from tripping as he does. The back of your knees hits the bed, and you hold on too tightly as you feel yourself falling backwards. You laugh when you fall back onto the bed with his weight on top of you. He laughs with you, “You’re okay, mama.”
He silences you with his mouth again, enjoying the feeling of your lips on his. He likes it just as much as you. Between that and his little pet name, your mind is swimming and your heart is racing. When he pulls away, it’s only to press his lips to the skin of your neck, suckling and nipping gently at the flesh as he does. You close your eyes, your fingers happily tangled in his hair as you keep him close.
“Mama,” you mutter under your breath, seeing just how much you like it as he nips at your neck. “I like that.”
You can feel him smiling against your skin. “Yeah? Want me to keep using it?”
You nod, “Yeah.” A hum echoes in your chest as he wraps his hands around your sides, lifting you a bit just to put you farther up the bed. He crawls on top of you, one of his knees settled between your legs as his hand caresses your side.
Your breath becomes thin when his hand smooths underneath his shirt, feeling the softness of your skin with a quiet breath. His palm stops at your belly as he slips the very tips of his fingers to rest underneath your breasts, feeling just how warm you are.
“Good?” he mutters, taking your earlobe so gently between his teeth and letting it go.
You nod, your eyes heavy like they’re glued down with sap. “Mhmm,” you breathe.
“Yes or no, mama?” he reminds you, gently kissing your lips.
“Yes.”
He smiles, rewarding you with another kiss as he whispers against your lips. “Good girl.”
You don’t have time to think about that right now. It’s too nice, too fuzzy. It sends a warm flush straight to the pit of your stomach and makes your breath hitch. Eddie knows and adds it to the list of things you like for tonight.
The slightest whimper slips from your lips when you feel his warm fingers reach up to brush your breast, gently groping you as he plays with your peaking nipples. He hikes your shirt all the way up until your bare chest is revealed to him, and he takes them in with an appreciative breath before leaning down to take one between his lips.
It’s much different than the guy before him. Eddie’s deliberate, licking and sucking and so, so gently nipping the bud. It sends a strange sensation through you, lighting every nerve ending and making it impossible to think straight as you keep your fingers tangled in his hair. You keep him close. It feels too good to do anything else.
You speak between breaths, your heavy eyelids and sticky lips working against your attempts to speak. “You’ve seriously cum to the thought of me?” you wonder, whimpering when his other hand comes up to pinch your other nipple between the pads of his fingers.
“Yeah,” he mutters, sucking harshly and making you gasp.
“Why?” you ask, making an attempt at playfulness between the haze of his ministrations. “Am I that irresistible?”
With only seriousness, Eddie looks up at you, letting his fingers take over in teasing you. “Yeah.”
Your grin falters, almost not expecting his answer—or at least the amount of honesty in it. “Wait, really? You’re not just buttering me up?”
He makes a face, a confused one that flatters you more than anything else. “No? You’re fucking sexy as shit.” He tilts his head, “You think I’m lying when I tell you that?” Eddie’s hand smooths down your side, gripping your hip as he goes.
You shake your head, bringing your knee up and sighing gently when his hand slides over the round of your ass. “You don’t have any weird feelings for me, do you?”
He pinches you, and you squirm away from him giddily. “Mama, I’m in love with you, but not like that.” He gently makes your side. “Now stop talking to me. It’s hard to kiss you if I’m talking.”
You chuckle. “Yes, si-”
Your words are interrupted by a tiny moan when his fingers graze the mound of your pussy through the thin fabric of your panties. Your back arches just slightly, the ticklish feeling making quick work of scouring your body.
“Does that feel good?” he wonders quietly.
You nod and bite down hard on your lip. The anticipation of it is eating you up. “Yes.”
“Good,” he lilts, continuing to brush his middle finger up and down the length of your panties until he’s pulling them to the side just enough to see you. Eddie licks his lips, leaning in to kiss your belly. You’re weak against him, trying not to cant your hips up into him and deter his work.
His finger caresses your folds through the bit of slick that had begun to gather there. “You feel the difference?” he asks between kisses.
“Yes.” Your voice is a squeak, and he seems quite proud of himself for making it that way.
“I’m gonna take these off, okay?” he says. “Then I’m going to put my mouth on you. You’ll let me know if I’m doing too much, right?”
You nod. “Yes, Eddie.”
He smiles, “Thanks, mama.” He feels the way you react to that, the slightest flutter of your folds. He sits up just to allow him the access to slip your underwear down your legs. The little, flimsy material comes right off. He drops it to the ground and comes to kneel in front of the bed. You hold your breath when his hands close around your waist, pulling you down to the edge to bring you that much closer to his face.
Instinctively, you close your thighs. It’s hard to will them to open and stay that way with the way his warm breath fans over your skin, his hands touch your body, his eyes stay glued to your own, constantly asking for consent.
You think he’s going to say something smart, smirk at you and chuckle at your shyness. But he does. Instead, he just gives you a calming look and asks, “You still okay, mama? You wanna stop?”
You let out a gentle breath, shaking your head. “No, I’m okay.” You chew on your bottom lip. “Just not used to this.”
“That’s okay,” he reassures. His kindness is honestly making your arousal worse. You feel like you’re going to start shaking if he pulls away from you. “Can I open your legs?”
You nod. “Please.”
He nods back, kissing your knee and smoothing his hands down your thighs, one on each side. The hand on the inside of your thigh dips so slowly between yours, seating deep between them until he’s slowly pulling them apart. The sound your thighs make when he opens them is lewd, it’s the quiet schlick sound that comes from the arousal that seeped out of you. You start to feel embarrassed, but then he sighs like he’s so relieved to see it.
“Tell me why you’re so fucking pretty,” he shakes his head. Your thighs are itching to close as you watch him lean in, pressing his lips to the inside of your thigh, just to kiss you. You bite your lip, nervous and so ready.
But then he stands. “Give me a second,” he says, walking away from you as his hands slide off your thighs. You sit up higher on your elbows, watching in confusion and slight annoyance as he leaves you on the bed.
“Eddie,” you call while he walks to his dresser.
“Hang on,” he smiles. “Jesus.” He does that thing where his tongue sticks out over his bottom lip as he sorts through the junk on his desk. “Not leavin’. Just lookin’ for something,” he mutters.
You fall back on the bed, willing your heart to calm. He makes a sound of success, turning back on his heel to get back to you. You look at him and watch as he cards his fingers through his hair. He pulls it back into a ponytail, wrapping a hair tie around it to make a messy bun.
You flush at the sight because not even a moment later, he’s on his knees again right between yours. “You can’t be serious,” you say.
“Oh, I’m dead serious,” he replies, looking at you excitedly. His hands land on your thighs again, keeping them spread apart as he pulls you again to the very edge of the bed. “I’d say hold on tight, but there’s nothing to hold onto so… Enjoy!”
He dives between your thighs, and the heat of his mouth latches onto your pussy. Your mouth slips open and a deep moan rumbles out of you. Your thighs close around his head as you feel his tongue licking at you, lapping at your folds as he delves between them.
“Eddie,” you call, one of your hands reaching down to touch the top of his head, trying to find some purchase at his hair. His tongue swirls around your clit, and you’re a total goner when his lips close around it and suck. You mewl at the unfamiliar feeling, enjoying every bit of it with an immense amount of pleasure.
You’d expected him to go slow, hesitant little licks against your folds as he worries about overwhelming you. But this is not that. It’s hot and heavy with deep strokes of his tongue and the tiniest nips of his teeth. There’s no way to keep yourself calm. Your hips are tilting up into his mouth, meaning he has to hold you down with his arms wrapped around your thighs.
Eddie seems to be thoroughly enjoying himself. He moans into you, heavy breaths fanning over your skin as he eats you out “like his life depends on it”. Your open-mouthed moans encourage him, especially when you say his name in this high-pitched gasp and slam your eyes shut. Your ankles hook behind him, pulling him in closer.
Eddie’s making the most obscene sounds—sounds worse than what you’re making. He slurps and laps at you like a dog drinking water. You’d call him a whore again if you could think of humor at the moment, but the only thing you want to tell him is to keep going and never stop.
When he pulls his mouth off of you, you whine. He smiles, knowing he’s doing a good job as he shushes you gently. “It’s okay, I’m not stopping,” he says. In the next moment, you feel his hand cup your pussy. “I’m gonna put my fingers inside of you. Is that okay?”
You nod. “Please, Eddie.”
His fingers tease your entrance, though you don’t think he means to. He looks at you as he prods a finger at the seam of your cunt, slowly pushing it in until they part around him. A short “ah” sound is what he hears as he presses his finger inside of you, moving slowly until he’s got it all the way in. “Good?” he checks, the slightest thrusts moving in and out of you as he does.
Your nods are becoming insistent. “Yes, Eddie.”
“You want more, mama?”
“Yes, please.” He loves how polite you are. You’re usually so mean—though, he loves that about you, too. It just means you love him.
He sets a steady rhythm, one that’s still slow as he focuses in on your face, the way it shifts and squints at every little push of his thick finger. It feels really nice, the way he takes his time with you, making sure you feel everything he gives you.
“M’gonna add another. You ready?”
“Yeah.” He rewards you with a second finger, pushing it inside along the first and stretching you out for him some more. He thrusts them in and out, a slow and steady motion slowly building as he massages those inner parts of you. He curls them, and they press against a spongy point inside of you that has you rolling your eyes. “That feels good, Eddie. Don’t stop.”
He smiles at your initiative, giving you what you want with as much enthusiasm as you give in wanting it. He leans in, his tongue darting out to lick at your pussy. You’re wetting his fingers so nicely, making it so easy to slip them in and out of you.
His lips wrap around your clit, and he sucks on it while you whine, while his fingers curl inside of you with every intent of coaxing an orgasm out of you. Little ramblings fall from your tongue as you grind against his. He's greedy in the way he licks around his fingers, over your clit, tasting your arousal as it seeps out of you.
A knot is tightening in your belly. Your hips reach for him with each little nuance of his skilled fingers as you seek out the release he's promising you.
His name comes out as a moan on your tongue. If either of you hadn't been so preoccupied, he would have made fun of you for it. Instead, you're spread out on his bed with his fingers inside of you, a moment away from cumming on his mouth.
Your hips try to lift up into him as you get closer and closer. He holds you down with one arm, his lips and tongue and prodding fingers working in tandem to taste you.
Your ankles hook behind his head as your back arches off the bed. “Eddie,” you whisper. He feels the way your pussy clenches around his fingers, his tongue becoming more insistent in the way it flicks and laps at your clit.
He makes these sounds of encouragement, humming and mhm-ing into you as he goes. Your release is like a burst in your belly, it starts there and swarms into your legs, your chest, the base of your being. Eddie’s tongue keeps licking and lapping at you as your back arches off the bed and your legs tighten around his head. You moan his name as white noise erupts in your ears, the distant murmuring of his words muffled as you try to cope with the pleasure that has begun to set every nerve ending on a wild fritz.
Eddie seems more enthused than anything else by your orgasm. Both his arms wrap around your thighs and hold you down. He actually stands, bending at the way to get closer as he longs to taste all the slick and arousal that leaks out of you. As he sucks on your clit and hums at the way that you taste, you grip his hair and pull him in closer.
But there’s a point where you think you might die if he touches you any more. There’s a gasp in your chest that rips its way out as you push him away from your fluttering pussy as kindly as possible. He leans in again, just for a moment, before he registers your body pulling away from him, notices the way your thighs unclench and your fingers loosen from his hair and your moans and gasps of his name turn into weak whimpers and grunts.
“Fuck,” you huff as you lay back on his bed. You turn onto your belly, crawling up his bed and collapsing into his pillows that spell like him. He watches, licking his lips and wiping his face with a smile.
“I was right,” you mumble, feeling your body coming down like you're floating back to the ground.
“About what?” You feel the bed dip next to you where Eddie sits down. Then you feel him lay back, his head laid out on your thighs.
“You're a whore.”
He rolls his eyes, smacking your leg with the back of his hand. “You liked it.”
“Doesn't mean you're not a whore,” you say. “Just means you're a good one.”
He sits up, moving over you so he's caging you in. His hair has come mostly undone by now, and it's more of a mess due to your insistence on how wonderful he is. His guitar pick hangs down in your face. Your eyes cross and uncross trying to watch it dangle.
“Well, if I'm a whore,” he bends down, his soft lips pressing into your neck as your lashes flutter, “then I'm gonna charge you. It's three dollars a minute.”
You chuckle. “Well, guess what?” He hums. “I'm poor, so no.”
He breathes in through his teeth, shaking his head. “Then I guess you'll have to work it off.”
You try not to be too timid as you press your fingertips to his chest, guiding him back so he's sitting up. You move onto your knees, pulling your arms around his shoulders and relishing his hands on your waist.
“That shouldn't be too hard,” you mutter. You are timid when you lean into him, testing the air between you to make sure it's okay that you kiss him.
When you still haven't made any contact, he nudges your nose with his. “C’mon,” he goads, his lips sticky when he speaks with all the familiar affection between you.
Your lip quirks a bit at his humor. You kiss him, biting his top lip just to confuse him. He laughs and you consider your goal achieved. You run a hand down the center of his bare chest, pausing at the base of his belly to tease the light happy trail disappearing into his sweatpants.
You slip your hand just underneath the waistband of his pants, tickling his skin as your fingers brush the base of his length hiding poorly behind the fabric. He flinches slightly from your touch, chuckling lightly as his hand comes to cup your elbow.
“Did I hurt you?” you ask suddenly, slightly startled by his reaction.
He shakes his head. “No, mama. You just surprised me.”
“Okay,” you murmur, your timid fingers slowly attempting to try again. But he just shakes his head.
“This isn’t for me. This is for you,” he says, pulling back enough to see you.
“Yeah, but,” you lick your bottom lip, “I wanna make sure you’re enjoying yourself, too.”
He licks his own lips as if to remind you that they were just wrapped around your sensitive cunt. “Trust me, I am thoroughly enjoying myself, mama.”
Your finger hooks around the waistband of his sweatpants, a slight pout arising from your face. “Can you take ‘em off, at least?”
His hands are already pulling them down his legs as he teases you. “So needy.”
You roll your eyes. “Shut the fuck up.” Your response falls short. As soon as the last word leaves your mouth, his cock springs from its loose confines and reveals itself.
You flush at the sight of him. You’re not a cock-hungry whore or anything—but if you were one, you think his dick would be a perfect subject for it. It’s not like he has this perfect cock that was hand-crafted by the gods or anything. But you think it’s safe to say that calling Eddie a freak is a valid name.
He’s long, freakishly so. He’s got a nice girth to him, you think, but you don’t know if he’s going all the way in—but, of course, you could be exaggerating. You’ve seen two cocks in your entire life, and Eddie’s is one of them and, admittedly, the better of the two. He will definitely reach.
“What the fuck, Eddie?” you look up at him.
“What?” His face falls slightly, his eyes widening just a bit as he wonders if your comment was good or bad. “What’s wrong?”
“How the hell do you fit that thing in your pants?” You shake your head. “Like, what the fuck is wrong with you?”
He just shrugs, but he’s a little relieved that you’re just being his asshole and not just some asshole. “I think you’re being a little dramatic.”
“How is it supposed to fit inside of me? What is that, like a foot long?”
He rolls his eyes. “I’m flattered—really, I am—but it, most definitely, is not a foot.” He looks down at the erection between his legs. The tip is flushed, and it kind of looks like it hurts. “Seven and a half.”
“What the fuck?” you whisper under your breath. You reach down, brushing your fingers over the tip. He gasps through his teeth, and you watch the way it kicks up in response. “Sorry,” you tell him, ignoring the amusement in your chest. It reminds you of a spring, the comedic kind that goes “boing!”.
“S’okay,” he murmurs. He lifts a hand to your cheek, brushing his thumb over the rise of it as he asks gently and genuinely, “You still wanna go?”
You nod, “Yeah. That monster isn’t gonna scare me away.”
He rolls his eyes. “It’s not that big.”
You shrug. “You know, I heard Harrington’s like that big, nine inches.” You make a circle with your hand, moving it up and down like you’re jerking it off. “You think it’s true?” You bob your brows up and down.
He shakes his head, running a hand down his face as he snickers at you. “I doubt it. He could be one or the other, but both seem a little excessive. Have you seen how tight his pants are?”
“Yeah… you might be right.”
“We gonna talk about dicks, or are we gonna fuck?”
You sigh, shrugging like it’s nothing as you look back at him. “I guess, we’ll fuck.”
He smiles, pulling you closer to him. “Well, then, c’mon, mama.”
You actually giggle, surprising him as you bring a leg to wrap around his waist, pulling the other up to follow suit. He kisses you, his hands supporting your thighs as his dick nuzzles between the both of you, kept warm and wet by the way your folds sit against him as it pushes into his lower belly.
Eddie reaches between your bodies, taking his weeping cock in his hand and stroking himself a couple times with little wavers of breath. You watch some precum spill from his tip, sliding down the bottom.
“You want me to use a condom?” he asks.
You swallow thickly, thinking quickly before shaking your head. “Pill.”
He shrugs. “Doesn’t mean I shouldn’t.”
You’re touched by his consideration but you don’t really want to put into words how much you actually want to feel him inside of you. You shake your head again, kissing him quickly to soften the slight awkwardness in your chest. “I don’t want you to use a condom, Eddie.” You almost whisper it, but he understands.
“Okay, mama,” he whispers back. He kisses you, lifting you up from his lap just enough to tuck the head of his cock at your soaked folds. “You ready?” You nod. “Don’t hold your breath. Breathing makes it feel better.” You nod again.
“Ready.”
You try not to hold his breath as he slowly lowers you down onto his lap, splitting you on his cock as you take him inch by inch. At one point, you’re sure he can’t go any further as you feel him seated somewhere deep inside you. And he’s right, it feels really nice.
Your breath is so light and airy when you sigh against his lips, holding him tight as you bury your face in his shoulder. “Fuck,” you huff, hearing his own breaths pass heavily in your ear.
“Fuck,” he echoes. “Jesus, you’re squeezin’ me, mama.”
You don’t know how you feel about the way this makes you feel, the way it makes you act. Your voice gets sort of whiny, breathy, this little thing in his ear that makes his cock twitch slightly inside of you. “Can’t help it,” you sigh. “So fuckin’ deep.”
He nods, his hands steady and firm at your backside and your arms tight around his neck. “I won’t move until you tell me to.”
You just nod, knowing he’s not going to move until you give him an explicit “yes”. It’s a lot to adjust to. He sits really deep inside of you, and he’s pressing against a spot that makes you delirious with just the pressure the head of his cock puts on it. But when you can’t take the suspense anymore and you’re too excited to see how it would feel, you nod again.
“I’m ready.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay,” he says. “I’ll go slow.”
You nod.
Holding your waist, Eddie begins to thrust his hips up into you. He does as he says and moves slowly, guiding your body in his lap so you grind down on him. A whine falls from your lips at the feeling, and you almost immediately seek out that pleasure with the eager roll of your hips into him.
“Not too fast, not too fast,” he hisses, lightly patting your hip.
You nod into his shoulder, feeling his hands roaming. His arm wraps around your waist, his other arm comes up to hook over your shoulder. He keeps thrusting, moving so slowly and filling you so deep. Following his commands, you roll your hips slowly into him, meeting each of his own movements in a building rhythm.
There's an ebb and flow in the way that you move together. Tiny whimpers fall from your lips, and his heavy breaths join them.
Somewhere along the way, it's not enough. Your insistent hips grind into him in search of more. He feels it in the way you breathe, the way you move, the way you hold him just a little tighter.
“Eddie,” you huff. “C’mon, I need more. Please.”
The way you say it is a little more whiny, a little needier than you intended. It feeds his ego, and he can't help but to lose some of his reassuring kindness. He starts making fun of you because he likes making fun of you, and he thinks that you'll probably eat that shit up.
“More?” His grip on you tightens just a bit. His thrusts become a little jerky, searching the same intensity you are. “You need more, mama?”
“Eddie,” you groan.
He pulls your face from his shoulder in order to look at you better. “You sound so whiny, baby. Like a little bitch.”
You roll your eyes because he's Eddie, and he calls you a little bitch anyway. Grinding in his lap, you tangle your fingers in his hair and tug. A strangled grunt comes out, and you smirk devilishly. “So do you.”
“Har, har,” he says.
“If this is all you can do, just tell me. It's okay if you're a one-pump-chump.”
You like vexing him. He likes when you vex him. But he also likes proving you wrong because he may be doing you a favor, but he can't let you go about thinking he can't fuck.
“Fuck you,” he scoffs. Then he's pushing you onto your back and wrapping your legs back around his waist, slipping out in the process. He towers over you like some wolf, bushy hair accommodating as his necklace swoops down to brush your skin.
“If you want me to stop, tell me to stop,” he says. “Yes?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He guides himself back into you, embedding himself within you until you're full. One of his hands grips your hip while the other takes a hold of the headboard. It's this metal thing that squeaks whenever you move. So when he's thrusting into you with a vigor that has grown in the past couple of moments, it's accompanied by the constant whine of the metal. It's sort of funny.
His hips roll into you, waves of pleasure coming with each one. His hand cradles your neck, and you lean into him as he latches onto the sensitive skin of your throat, teeth scraping and tongue licking up the taste of your skin.
One of your legs comes up to wrap around his waist, and you moan as you pull him in deeper. His pace builds into this steady, needy kind of rhythm. The harder he thrusts, the more you clench, and the harder it is for him to stifle his grunts.
But you like the sounds he makes. Sometimes they're these deep groans that rumble in his chest like thunder. Sometimes they're these weak moans that you're pretty sure is him trying not to whimper. And you like the moans so much that you card your fingers through his hair and tug on a chunk of it as his head pulls back. His muscles flex, and his lips part. You watch his eyes flutter, this shocked whimper comes out of him.
“You did that on purpose,” his word and your moan mix together with the thrust of his hips.
“Ah…haha,” you gasp, nodding a little. “Yes, I—Oh, yes, I did.”
“What, are you a top or something?” he wonders, raising a brow.
You shrug, your mind a little blurry with the feeling of his cock shoved inside of you. “Dunno.”
He's interested enough to find out.
Once again, you're being moved around. You whimper when he pulls out of you just to sit you up again. Eddie moves to the head of the bed and pulls you back into his lap. “Let's find out.”
You take him in your hand, lining him up with your waiting lips. As you slowly sink back down onto him, your eyes flutter shut as you feel the way he fills you. And it only gets better from there as you slowly take him farther inside until he’s buried so deep that you can feel him pressing somewhere inside of you that you can’t quite pinpoint.
You’re fully seated on him now, eyes squeezed shut as you adjust to the feeling. Your hands come to rest on his chest, the fingers of your right hand brushing over the demon head on his pec. When you roll your hips and feel the way it presses inside of you, you’re immediately done for.
Your rhythm isn’t steady for a while. You move purely out of an urge to quell this need in the pit of your stomach. As you fuck yourself on his cock, Eddie’s hands hold your waist tightly just to have something to hold onto. You move quickly and without remorse, your head thrown back in pleasure as your hips lift up just to smack down on his lap once again.
For a while, you just grind on him, focusing on that deep spot that shoots electricity through your thighs. This pitiful sound flutters out of you, like a shudder running down your spine as your hands move to cup the back of his neck in your palms. His name falls from your lips with a plea, it’s a weak sound that would bring him to his knees if he wasn’t already on his back.
“Fuck, mama,” he huffs. “Keep going, just like that.”
His hands caress your skin, roaming your body underneath his shirt still draped over you. He hikes it up farther and farther until he feels your warm breasts. “Can I take this off?” he asks. You just nod, muttering an “mhm” as you keep bouncing with closed eyes. He pulls the shirt over your head, revealing your bouncing breasts to him as he takes a hold of them with greedy hands. He palms them, kneading them like he would dough. You just keep moaning as he builds you up.
You don’t mean to, but in an attempt to respond, the only thing that comes out of your mouth is a repetitive “yes, yes, yes” that echoes in the room alongside his own loud, open-mouthed breaths. “Shit, baby. Doin’ so good f’me.”
That makes you whimper, moving almost ruthlessly just to satisfy the rising need in your belly. “Fuck, I need cum, baby,” you whisper, repeating that again and again with each little roll. Eddie wastes no time in bringing his large hand to rest at the juncture of your thigh and your hip, his thumb swirling insistent circles into your clit. You gasp at the feeling, which is way more electric than you thought it’d be.
It becomes a little difficult to think. Visions of Eddie and his hands and your bodies, and the sounds of your slick and skin, and the smell of sex and body wash and cigarettes cloud your mind. You’re on the verge of tipping over the edge, you can feel your fingertips tingling with the wild sensations of your pleasure, so, so close to you now–
Eddie pulls you up from his lap, unsheathing your cunt from him. Your moans and your breaths are interrupted, and this weak cry tumbles from your tongue. He grunts, laying his head back and making this “hmph” sound.
You blindly reach for his cock, trying to guide him back inside of you before he’s lightly smacking your hand away. “Wait, mama, wait.”
“Eddie,” you whine, thoroughly unhappy with the way the growing waves in your belly had begun to retreat. “Please.” You could honestly cry. It had felt so good—you had felt so good, and he’d taken it all away in a matter of a second.
“What the fuck, dumbass?” you huff, looking at him with eyes unfocused with frustration and face flushed with lust.
“You’re so mean,” he says, almost as put off by the failed release as you.
“I was so close.”
“I know.” He sits up a little more, moving you off his lap. Your arousal is coating both of you, your thighs are sticky with it, his lap and his cock is glistening in the dim golden light. “That’s called edging.”
“I know what the fuck edging is. Why are we doing it?”
He laughs at your frustration, and you want to hit him. “Relax, we’re not done yet.”
“Well, hurry up,” you whine, already trying to throw your leg back over his legs. He just swats you away again.
“Turn around.” You would argue, but you’re too horny. So, instead, you turn around so your back is facing him. His hand spreads out along your back, and you nearly squeal when he pushes you down so your face is pushing into his covers. He pulls you up so your ass is in the air, grabbing one of your cheeks and squeezing.
“You still good?” He’s checking up, trying to be nice even though he was just the cruelest he could’ve been.
“Yes, please.” He likes you like this, honestly. It’s fun to see you so needy. It’s just something he can hold over your head.
He lightly smacks your ass, not enough to hurt but enough for your hips to jerk at the unexpected sensation. Immediately, he smoothes the skin with the palm of his hand and hums. He nudges your legs apart, spreading you open for him just enough as he pumps his cock in his hand.
“Just testing out some positions,” he says simply before he’s guiding himself back inside of you. It’s a welcome feeling, one you’re beginning to become accustomed to. Once he’s fully inside, he bottoms out with a heavy sigh. “It’s good to see which ones you like.”
“I like when I’m being fu–”
You’re cut off when his hips thrust into you, an almost cruel snap that makes this filthy smacking sound. You moan, literally feeling yourself melting into the bed as one of his hands comes to fist the sheets by your head. The other holds your waist tight, keeping you steady as he begins to fuck into you.
You really like this position. Being on top of him was so, so nice, but being underneath him is a feeling that makes your brain numb. You wrap your hand around his wrist as your other curls in the bedsheets, mewling feebly with every snap of his hips.
It’s dizzying, having him take you like this. There’s a light sheen of sweat coating your skin, encouraged by the warm air straying in through the slightly opened window. His breath is heavy, and you can hear him grunting every time his hips meet your ass. “Do you like this one?” he huffs, moving his hand to wrap lightly around your neck. He pulls you up from the covers so you can speak, your bodies bumping back and forth in the dance you’ve created.
You’re being kept steady only by your hand on the bed, gripping the sheets tightly. “Yes, Eddie,” you moan. You like saying his name, especially when you feel so good. It’s like a wave through your skin. It falls off your tongue with ease. “That feels good.”
He’s happy you’re happy. He keeps it up, losing his breath the longer he goes as your loud ones mix together in the heavy air of his bedroom.
You’re so glad Wayne isn’t home because there’s no way you would’ve been able to keep quiet. You respect that man too much to put him through this. The loud squealing of the bed certainly doesn’t help.
You turn your head to his arm, pressing your nose to his wrist to smell him. He smells like he always does, cigarettes and cheap cologne, like leather and maybe a bit of metal. But under that, you can still smell it. Green apple.
You kiss his wrist, and something snaps in him. For the hundredth time, Eddie pulls out of you and moves you back onto your back. Once again, you’re looking up at him as he locks you in. There’s a wild look in his eyes that makes you breathless, and when he’s pushing into you again, you moan.
“Right there,” you mutter incoherently when he fucks into you. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer as you keep your legs spread wide. “Yes, fuck, right there.”
Eddie focuses on that spot, punching the head of his cock into it over and over again and watching the way your eyes roll, your head falling back into the sheets and your hands tightening around his arms. He loves the way your lips part, your soft lips split open by the feeling of him. He bends down and kisses the exposed expanse of your throat, sucking on the skin and nibbling hickeys into your skin.
When he pulls away from your neck with a light smack, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down so your bodies are pressed flat together, skin to skin. He ruts into you, pressing his forehead against yours as you both breathe the other’s air. It’s all heat and lust and something else, something hot and heavy.
“I needa cum, Eddie,” you mumble, “For real this time.” You manage to get it out with a minimal amount of stuttering. You’re surprised you were even able to put the sass in it that you managed. He’s made such a mess of you.
His thumb finds your clit once more, and he’s circling the bud with a fervent kind of eagerness. “Keep breathing for me, mama. Breathe in deep.” You do as he says, so much so that you get a little dizzy as the air comes and goes. You buck your hips up into his thumb, your whimper getting higher and higher with each swirl.
You feel a knot curling in your belly, followed by a startling heat. “Eddie,” it comes out almost as a question. You’re addicted to the way his name feels in your mouth. You repeat it over and over, squirming and breathing and tightening your hold on him. He keeps fucking into you, focusing on that spot that makes you see stars as he just thrusts faster until his hips are moving in short, hard spurts.
When the dam breaks, it's with a slack-jawed gasp and a tight embrace. Your whole body tenses, like a coil tightening. It gets hot and hotter and hottest until a band snaps and you're trembling. You moan his name like a cry for help, holding his face between your hands and marveling at the softness of his skin. A brilliant shudder makes its way through your body, the quivering of your limbs making it impossible not to whimper and whine at each little shake.
Eddie helps you through all of it, keeping his in and out pace until it becomes unsteady with the fluttering of your pussy around his cock. Your mouth latch onto one another, more heat and lust and longing to fill the space between you as you recover with a dizzying head and buzzing veins. Loud and sloppy smacks accompany the ones coming from your hips, still meeting with the last sparks of your orgasm and the drive for his own.
His steady thrusts are unsteady now, just tiny little pumps of his cock inside of you as his breaths build into gasps just as small. You’re already coming down from your high, and your whines are sounding a little different now as you tilt your head to the side and hold onto his arm, the punch of his cock bordering on an overstimulated feeling after trying to recover from the large crash of your orgasm.
“Eddie,” you whimper, one hand still splayed across his cheek.
He pulls out of you suddenly, peeling his hand off of you to grab his cock. He tugs harshly at it, bucking his hips into his hand until he’s spilling out over your belly in warm spurts, these shuddered moans coming with it. “Oh, fuck, mama,” he whimpers in that sticky tone, burying his face in the crook of your neck as the last ropes of cum coat your skin.
There are a few moments where there’s complete silence—save for the sound of a car here and there, or a dog barking in the distance, or some people laughing even farther away, or your heavy breaths huffing between you two. Your fingertips caress the skin of his cheeks, drawing patterns into his face as he simply enjoys it with closed eyes and settling breaths.
When Eddie sits up, he takes your hand to pull you up with him. You both sit on his bed, looking down at your bodies now sticky with his cum, though his isn’t the only fluid sticking to your skin. Your thighs make a wet sound whenever you move.
You run a hand down your face, sighing heavily. “Jesus Christ,” you mutter, popping your toes. Eddie watches you stretch your arms over your head, enjoying the way your tits look when you do.
“So I did good?”
You look back at him to see the way he watches you, his brows bouncing with a sly grin on his face. You roll your eyes, not looking at him as you chuckle. “Yes, Eddie, you did good.”
He smiles wide.
Eddie stands from the bed, and you watch the way he sort of limps from his room. You can’t help your grin at the sight. At least that means you did good, too.
Eddie returns with a wet cloth in his hands, which he uses to clean you up first, wiping away all of your slick and his cum and even some of the saliva from your neck left behind by his sloppy kisses. He takes care in the way he does it, paying such close attention to you to ensure you’re just as clean and comfortable as he wants you to be.
When he’s done with you, he wraps his hand gently around your throat and pulls you in for another kiss. You lean into it. His kiss is like air in your lungs, and you sigh gently. Then he disappears again and comes back clean (and still deliciously naked—you enjoy the sight of his chain link tattoo curling around his upper thigh). He rustles through his drawers, pulling out another shirt, this one clean and not somewhere on the floor.
“You’re staying over, right?” he asks, as casual as ever as if he hadn’t just cum all over your stomach.
And, just as casually, you nod and turn onto your stomach to stretch again. “Mhm.” He tosses the shirt at you. It lands on your head, and you don’t move to put it on just yet. He picks up his sweatpants from the floor and puts them back on.
Eddie nudges you to the side so he can pull the covers back, and that’s when you sit up to put on his shirt. You stand, padding across his tiny room to turn off the lamp on his dresser, shrouding the room in relative darkness. When you climb back into the bed, you latch yourself onto his back and hold him to your chest. He’s really warm, and it feels nice to be this close.
Sometimes you wonder if you and Eddie are supposed to date. There’s nothing casual about your friendship, and there never really has been (especially not now). But you think that having Eddie as your best friend, perhaps just under unconventional circumstances, is the best thing there is. If you ever decide to get together, that’ll be a moment for a time in the (relative) distance.
For now, you just rest your ear against his back and listen to his heartbeat. “Eddie,” you mumble, bringing your leg up to rest over his body like he isn’t bigger than you.
“Yeah?”
“Thanks.”
There’s a huff that you think is him chuckling. He pulls a hand up and pats yours a couple light times. “Anytime, mama.” There’s some silence. “I love you.”
You smile. You love your best friend Eddie.
“I love you, too. G’night.” He hums back at you.
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rafeandonlyrafe · 8 months
Text
demonstration
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words: 2.8k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, reader is toppers girlfriend, struggling to cum, female receiving oral and fingering, multiple orgasms, edging and overstimulation, protected and unprotected sex, cheating
“maybe you could ask one of your friends for help, top.” you pout, rubbing your hand over his shoulder, not wanting him feel any more upset than he needs to be, but at the same time, you’re not sure how much longer this can go on.
“you can't tell me what i can do to fix it?” topper asks.
“you know i was a virgin before you babe, i really don’t know.” you sigh, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “maybe ask rafe?” “rafe?” topper turns suddenly to look at you. “why him?” “i’ve just… heard talk from some of my friends. he can probably give you some good advice. i don’t know.” you shrug. “maybe it’s something wrong with me.” “no, don’t say that.” topper shakes his head, turning to pull you into him, a hand around your waist.
“you ask your friends and i’ll ask mine.” you give as an option. topper nods, pressing a kiss to your forehead, hoping the next time you’re in his bedroom, it’ll go a lot better.
--
“what?” rafe gawks at his friend, unsure if he heard him right or if he was going crazy.
“ive never… i’ve never made y/n cum before and i just… i need to know what to do rafe! i’m worried she’s gonna leave me if i can’t get it together and i guess- fuck! i don’t know! just help me out man!” topper paces quickly, bringing his hands to his hair, tugging on it, stressed out of his mind.
“okay, alright, jesus, just clam down!” rafe says, sitting down on the couch, gesturing for topper to sit as well. he’s not sure how long he can keep himself still, already feeling awkward and nervous about not being able to make you cum, only made worse by trying to talk to rafe about it.
“every time i fuck her, i just get so over excited and cum too quickly and i know this is tmi but i just try my best and every time she doesn’t cum and she says its okay but i know it’s really not.” topper blurts out.
“alright, well…” rafe sighs, pushing his hand through his hair. he’s never had this type of issue before with girls. “do you finger her? or eat her out? before you fuck her, i mean.” “i eat her out sometimes.” topper shrugs. “she says my tongue feels good and i can make her cum like that, but not when im fucking her, i just don’t know what to do, i just get so excited and… and i’ve never had this problem with girls before, it’s just y/n.”
“to be fair, she’s hotter than any girl you’ve been with before.” rafe comments. it’s no secret, so he doesn’t feel bad saying it, especially when topper nods.
“she’s way out of my league, thats why i’m sure if i don’t fix this she’s gonna leave me.” topper sighs.
“maybe a demonstration could help?” rafe suggests, making toppers head snap towards him, a look of fury in his eyes.
“you are not allowed to fuck my girlfriend.”
“no, man.” rafe shakes his head. “what if i’m there while you fuck her? then i can give you specifics, and she will know you are really trying. she told you to ask me right?” “yeah, i guess you have a reputation of being really good.” topper cringes at his own words.
“i am. so, let me help you, top. brother to brother.”
--
rafe understands why topper has such a hard time keeping it together as you lay out naked on the bed, eyes flickering between your boyfriend and his best friend, a cautiously optimistic look on your face.
“go ahead and spread your legs.” rafe says, trying to keep his tone even, to disguise the lust that he feels as his eyes move from your breasts down to between your thighs.
“can you get naked first topper? i feel weird here.” topper was shirtless, but still had his shorts and underwear on, even though he was obviously straining against the fabric. 
“yeah.” topper glances briefly to rafe before tugging them down his hips, letting his cock spring free. 
“so have you ever cum before y/n?” rafe asks.
“yeah, um… with my own fingers.” you cough awkwardly. “and when topper eats me out.”
“its really just when i’m inside of her.” topper says with a thick swallow as your thighs part, opening them wide to show off your pussy, already gleaming with wetness and a peachy pink color that makes rafe want to bend down and bury his tongue inside of your folds, but he has to behave himself, just happy to have this opportunity to see you like this.
“why don’t you finger her first? then you can show me. open her up a little, it’ll help.” rafe instructs.
topper nods, reaching down and pressing one finger against your hole. you tense up briefly before relaxing, allowing topper to push his finger in.
“is she tight?” rafe asks, without really meaning to, but he figures you must be from the way you are squeezed so tightly around his finger.
“yeah, that’s why i can never last.” topper says, thrusting his finger in and out, the slick sounds of his movement squelching throughout the room.
“does that feel good y/n?” rafe asks, eyes flickering up to your face.
“mhm.” you nod, but you don’t feel any urge to moan, needing more. “could add a second, top.” “okay.” topper nods, trying to work a second finger in, but you hiss at the stretch, primarily hurting around your entrance, despite your wetness.
“gotta rub her clit too.” rafe says, reaching over and pressing a fingertip to your clit, rubbing it. you gasp out, not just from the good feeling but from rafe touching you, like he swore to topper he wouldn’t do before he agreed to this.
toppers finger slips easily in once you’ve relaxed to having your clit rubbed. topper looks slightly annoyed, but he stays silent when he sees how much you’re liking it now, unable to hold back your moans. “oh, just like that.” you moan, eyes fluttering closed.
“see if you can add a third.” rafe says, flicking his finger over your clit before going back to rubbing.
“i’ve-i’ve never been able to take more than two.” you sit up slightly, surprised when topper presses a third finger and manages to begin thrusting it inside of you.
“aw, fuck.” you whine, trying to close your legs, but topper holds one thigh open with his hand while rafe grasps the other.
“keep ‘em open, cutie.” rafe says. “gonna cum?”
“yeah, yeah keep going-” you cut yourself off before you can yell rafes name instead of toppers.
“pull out, top.” rafe says, suddenly taking his hand away, making your back arch off the bed as you squirm, trying to chase their fingers, to get them back touching you.
“no, no, no.” you whine when topper also pulls out, leaving your hole clenching around nothing.
“sometimes if you’re struggling having her cum with your cock inside her, you can edge her first.” rafe says, switching easily back to teacher mode.
“should i fuck her now?” topper looks to rafe, before glancing to you, realizing he shouldn’t be asking permission to fuck his own girlfriend, but rafe has that type of energy, that commanding presence that easily makes him in control of any situation.
“yeah, put the condom on though.” rafe glances to the bed where topper threw a condom out of his pocket earlier. while topper slides it on, your focus on him, rafe takes a moment to reach to his crotch, squeezing his cock and begging himself to settle, to calm down.
topper lines himself up with your entrance, placing one hand on your hip as he lines himself up with his other hand, pushing inside of you slowly as you moan, eyes squeezing shut, obviously aroused and feeling good by him stretching you, so rafe is unsure what the issue is, until topper begins to move.
he’s thrusting too rapidly, overwhelming you. rafe shakes his head, “slowly, topper. deeper thrusts.”
topper manages to get control of himself, slowing down but still not thrusting deeper, and rafe realizes its because of the angle, topper not holding himself low enough to properly thrust.
“here.” rafe grabs a pillow, a different one from the one you’re laying your head on. rafe taps your hip and you lift them as he stuffs the pillow underneath. “try now.”
topper scooches closer, now able to thrust much easier, entering you at a far better angle as he takes you repeatedly, still going too erratically, too random.
“on a beat.” rafe says. “gotta fuck her steady, can’t just jackhammer.” “i-i-” topper groans out, pulling out, much to your disappointment as you let out a deep sigh. “i can’t, was about to cum.” “damn, baby, you must be real tight.” rafe glances to you, making you blush and close your legs slightly, which is hard as you are propped up, spread open on display.
“try again, top, it’s okay.” you soothe him, keeping your voice soft and steady.
topper nods, retaking his cock in his hand, pushing it back inside. you nod in encouragement as he moves, already going to shallow and too fast to properly build you up.
“gotta rub her clit too, man. remember she’s already close from getting edged.” rafe tries to instruct, but when topper places his thumb on your clit, his movements are jerky and too harsh, almost hurting as you cringe, but in your displeasure, your cunt clenches around toppers cock and he looses control, moaning as he cums, pumping into the condom.
“shit!” topper shouts out in pleasure, before he realizes you’re looking up at him with disappointment in your eyes. “shit.” he groans again, this time angry with himself as he pulls out in shame.
“it’s okay, top.” you sit up, moving the pillow as you reach out for your boyfriend, or at least attempt to, but he moves away, looking down in shame.
“you’re gonna break up with me now.” toppers voice is sad as he speaks.
“what?” it takes you back, not expecting it.
“you’re gonna break up with me, aren’t you? because i can’t make you cum, you’re gonna leave me? god, i’m so pathetic.” “i can’t believe you think i’m that shallow.” you scoff as topper pulls the condom off and tosses it into rafes trashcan, who is simply glancing back and forth between the two of you. “that i would break up with you over sex?” “you wouldn’t?” topper questions.
“you would?” you question back, growing frustrated. “topper, i let you take my virginity, i can’t believe you thought i would do that just… just go.”
“no, baby, listen.” topper begins.
“i’m not breaking up with you yet.” you tell him. “but i need some space, please just go.” 
topper can’t hide the tears welling up in his eyes, and he doesn’t want to cry in front of you, and especially not rafe, so he pulls his clothes back on quickly and haphazardly before leaving, slamming the door shut behind him.
you sigh, burying your head in your hands. you wouldn’t break up with topper just because of sex, but his reaction to what happened makes you question everything.
“you okay baby?” rafe asks, making you jump, forgetting he was there.
“yeah, sorry, i can leave.” you move to get off the bed when rafe grabs your wrists, making you stop.
“or you could stay.” rafe says, his voice suggestive, as well as the look on his face.
“i-but topper…” “just finishing off what he started. come on, you came here for help anyways. lets see if you can cum when i fuck you.” “i-i guess it wouldn’t hurt to try.” --
rafe finally picks his head up from between your legs, cunt now bright red and covered in mess due to your three orgasms his tongue and fingers brought out of you, deciding to go for overstimulation instead of edging, now that he was the one getting to have you.
“still thinking about topper?” rafe asks, pressing a kiss to your puffy clit, making you whine out.
“no.” you admit honestly, all of your thoughts have been replaced by rafe. “fuck me, please, rafe.”
rafe smirks, standing up and taking his shirt off, pleased that your eyes glaze over as you watch him undress, jaw dropping open when his cock is revealed, already hard and leaking.
“yeah, i know i’m bigger than him.” rafe smirks as he climbs onto the bed. “but i opened you up enough, didn’t i? or do i need to make you cum again?”
“n-no.” you shake your head, already so overstimulated. “i want your cock, i need it.” “he always fucks you in missionary?” rafe asks, wanting to make you cum in the same position that topper couldn’t, proving yet another way he’s superior.
“yeah, we haven’t tried anything else.” you say, leaving out the word yet not sure if you can go back to topper after this.
rafe nods, looking towards his drawer that he knows contains condoms, going to grab one before you speak up suddenly, “you-you can fuck me raw. if you want. i’m on birth control.” rafe can’t help but smirk, nodding as he grabs the same pillow again, placing it under your hips, bringing your tired legs up, thighs falling open.
“tell me if it hurts or if anything doesn’t feel good.” rafe says. he’s sure it’s toppers' inadequacies making you struggle, but just in case he wants to take good care of you.
“mkay.” you nod, hands fisting in the bed sheets as rafe rubs the head of his cock through your sticky folds, making sure to tap against your clit, just to tease you even further.
“gonna fuck you so much better than he ever could. ‘ts why you should be with me instead, baby.” rafe says, not letting you respond or even think too much about his statement as his cock pushes inside of you, making your back arch off the bed.
“oh my god!” you shout out, moaning wildly without care as rafe begins to thrust, deep and hard, hitting spots inside of you that topper has never touched before.
“oh, fuck.” rafe groans out. “you are tight, baby.” your cunt is squeezing him, molding to his walls. “no wonder he cums so quickly.” you shake your head, not wanting to think about topper, not wanting to feel any guilt or regret as rafes hips swing forward, cock pressing against your gummy walls as he moves a thumb to your clit, rubbing it in that same enticing way that made your high build so quickly last time.
“feels really good, rafey.” you moan, raising and lower your hips slightly in time with his thrusts, forcing his cock even deeper inside of you, feeling his hot skin against yours, the first person to take you bare.
“i knew there was nothing wrong with you.” rafe smirks. “already close to cumming, aren’t you?”
despite your body being tired from your three previous orgasms, you do feel another one building in your stomach.
“yeah, thats what i thought.” rafe moves faster, rubbing his thumb more intensely. “nothing wrong with you baby, you are perfect. perfect tight little cunt.” “please.” you whine out, unsure what you are begging for as tears slide down your cheeks, purely from being overwhelmed with pleasure. you’ve never managed more than two orgasms in a night, and he’s close to doubling that.
“cum for me, doll. don’t have to beg. wanna feel that cunt squeezing around me.” rafe encourages you, pumping quickly as he pinches your clit between his thumb and finger before letting go and rubbing quickly, forcing the orgasm out of you as you scream, entire body tightening as your hips rise, high overtaking you as your eyes open to see rafe looking back at you, cocky look in his eye, but his jaw is slackened in pleasure as your cunt spasms around his dick.
“that’s it, good girl.” rafe affirms, thumb now gently touching around your clit, bringing you down slowly as his cock stays lodged deep inside of you.
you shiver as you lower your hips, breath slowly coming back to normal. 
rafe bends over your body, taking your lips in a kiss. you moan into his mouth, his tongue licking against your bottom lip before pushing into your mouth.
“you just came on my cock, pretty girl.” rafe says.
“i know, i loved it.” you hum, eyes sliding shut as rafe kisses your jaw, obsessed with the taste of your skin almost as much as your cunt.
“hmm, so two more? three?” rafe suddenly snaps his hips forward, making you realize he’s still buried inside of you.
“wait, wha-” your question is cut off as rafe straightens, resuming his same pace as if he didn’t just deliver you the most mind blowing orgasm.
“you think i’d be satisfied with getting you to cum just once?” rafe tsks and shakes his head. “we aren’t even close to done.”
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bro-atz · 14 days
Text
the time of my life
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in which: your roommates just want to cheer you up after you get stood up on your date.
pair: yunho/san/mingi/afab!reader
word count: 4.1k
content: smut, slightly pwp, foursome/gang bang, yunho has a slight foot fetish?, reader's a cum slut??, oral, anal, fingering, squirting, double (+ triple) penetration, throat fucking, fluid bonding-ish, definitely filthy, did i mention they all have massive cocks? unprotected sex (PLS USE PROTECTION IRL!), creampies, completely consensual!
rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact
author's note: several things! this is an unofficial part 2 to "that's what roommates are for", this is very heavily based but not entirely based on the pilot episode of new girl, and this was brought to you by me wanting revenge on @nebulousbrainsoup and enlisting the help of @skteezcursed and @k-hotchoisan !
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The second San got home, he heard the wretched opening notes to the song that made him and your other two male roommates want to scream into an abyss.
“I’ve had…” he heard you sniffling. “The time of my life…”
When he walked past the kitchen, he saw empty pints of ice cream scattered across the kitchen countertop, confirming that you were not doing well (although you sobbing while watching Dirty Dancing should’ve been enough for him to know). He entered the living room to see you curled into a ball and lying on the couch with your favorite blanket draped over you and tears in your eyes.
“Not again,” he murmured.
“Welcome home, San,” you whispered, your eyes darting to him briefly before you returned your gaze to the movie in front of you.
Before the movie could continue to make you sob, San immediately turned down the volume and sat right next to you, his strong hands pulling you up so that your head was on his broad shoulders.
“What’s wrong, roomie?” he asked as he tucked your hair behind your ear.
You were too emotional to answer. You settled for shaking your head and pressing your face into San's soft chest, your tears staining his shirt. With a gentle sigh, San let you cry in his arms while he rubbed your back.
After a good cry, you leaned back and looked at him. To be honest, San thought you would look a lot more disheveled given how you nuzzled your nose into his chest, but other than your red puffy eyes, you looked... Kind of pretty.
"I got stood up," you murmured.
"What?" San was shocked.
"Yeah... Mingi set me up with this guy, and he just never showed up..."
"What's his name?" San asked while standing up. "I'm going to go beat that guy up."
"No! Don't!" you stood up as well and grabbed his arm. "It's fine! It's not like I wanted to date the guy, anyway..."
"Huh? Then why are you sad? Shouldn't you be glad that you don't have to worry about him?"
"Because..."
You sat back down on the couch and sighed heavily. Tears were forming in your eyes again, and you were doing your best to keep them at bay. San took his seat next to you again and cupped your face, his thumb catching a stray tear.
"What if I end up alone for the rest of my life?" you asked him candidly.
"You won't end up alone—"
"No, like, think about it. The guys I like don't like me back because I'm not pretty like a model on a magazine cover or Barbie-like like Margot Robbie, the guys who like me are icky or gross or assholes, and if I were to get with a guy who liked me, then I'd have to settle, then that makes me wonder if my standards are too high and if I should cut back a little bit and just go with the flow, which is why I agreed to let Mingi set me up with this guy, but then when I do that, the guy stands me up—"
San knew that you needed to get out of your downward spiral, so he interrupted you with a kiss. It was soft, sweet, and so freaking nice, and you only got more upset when he stopped kissing you.
"Stop it," he whispered. "You won't be alone for the rest of your life, and you will find a great guy, so don't think like that about yourself."
You were speechless. Your eyes darted back and forth as you tried to decipher the look on his face and figure out exactly why he thought shutting you up with a kiss would be better than just covering your mouth.
"Also, not all of the guys who like you are icky... Or gross... Or assholes..."
The look on his face hardened slightly, and it was intense in a good way. The negative thoughts cleared out of your head so quickly as his hand guided your face closer to his, but before your lips could meet, the front door opened.
"Your friends suck, Mingi!" you heard Yunho exclaim as he and Mingi entered the apartment.
"That would mean you suck," Mingi shot back with a little bit of attitude.
San left your side and stood up. He left so abruptly, however, that you flopped forward onto the couch, your face planting in the cushion.
"I meant your friends apart from us, you dick," Yunho rolled his eyes.
"Come on, they're not that bad! San, you like them, right?"
"No, I'm going to have to agree with Yunho. Your friends are assholes," San stated definitively.
"Ha! See!" Yunho laughed.
"Ugh! What about you, Y/N? Didn't you like my friend?" Mingi turned to you and asked.
You didn't bother looking at Mingi. You kept your face planted in the couch cushion and shook your head.
"So no one likes my friends?!"
"Dude," Yunho placed a firm hand on Mingi's shoulder. "I say this with all the love in my heart. Your friends suck."
"Yeah, one of them just—"
The second you heard San speak, you shot up off the couch and covered his mouth before he could divulge any more information. Frowning, Mingi looked at both you and San before his eyes trailed off to the coffee table where there were balled up tissues and a pint of melted ice cream, and of course, he recognized the dialogue from the TV since the movie was still playing.
"Oh..." Mingi realized out loud. "Was he a prick?"
Pulling your hand off his face, San answered for you, "No, he never even showed."
"Shit," Mingi uttered as he ran his fingers through his hair in slight frustration. "My friends really do suck..."
Hesitantly, Mingi approached you. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed the top of your head before whispering apologies to you over and over again. While you appreciated it, you couldn't help but start crying again.
"No, wait," Mingi started panicking. He pulled down the sleeve of his sweater and dried your tears while saying, "Why are you crying? Don't cry?"
You frowned painfully, and you tried to get the words out, but you were too choked up to even breathe properly.
"Let me see if I can get this right," Yunho spoke for you. "You got stood up, which made you feel like you weren't pretty, which made you wonder why you can't find a guy, and you overthought everything about your inability to find a suitable guy to date."
Yunho's explanation of your spiral was accurate, but you didn't appreciate the way he said it. You moved away from Mingi to glare at Yunho, and the other two men who were trying to comfort you also shot him an alarmed look.
"You don't have to be so candid about it," San sighed.
"Hey, at least I got her to stop crying," Yunho said in his defense.
"Yeah, but now she's angry at you, which is also not something we want," Mingi pointed out.
"There are other ways to get her to stop crying, you know," San said, his voice diminishing slowly and his face getting redder as he recalled the way he got you to stop spiraling and crying.
"Like what?"
San couldn't answer. He looked away while rubbing the back of his neck. Remembering how San kissed you to get you to stop talking, your face turned bright red. You lowered your head in hopes that neither of the other men would see your reaction, but your red ears did not go unnoticed by Mingi.
"Like what, San? Tell us," Yunho prompted.
"You could, uh, cover her mouth... Or tell her a joke... Or distract her—"
"You kissed her, didn't you?" Mingi accused.
"Yeah..."
"Why would you do that?!" Mingi exclaimed. "That's not fair! We promised we would set boundaries after what happened that one time!"
"You broke the pact, San!" Yunho added. Then, with a sudden, dramatic gasp, he added, "You broke the bro code..."
"Guys, I didn't mean to break the pact at first, I swear! She was just spiraling—"
"Hold on," you interjected, all three men clamping their mouths shut. "A pact? What pact?"
The men avoided your gaze; Yunho inspected the wall, Mingi scanned the floor, and San was suddenly interested in the ceiling. You frowned and crossed your arms over your chest.
"You guys better tell me what this pact is," you said with the most stern voice you could muster.
"...Alright, fine," Yunho said as he stepped forward. "You know that one night we, uh, slept together?"
"Uh huh..."
"Well, we—" Yunho gestured to himself and the other two men. "Kind of figured out that all three of us like you... And that we wouldn't try to pursue you, if you will, so that none of us got hurt..."
"So none of you would get hurt," you amended. "You're telling me that instead of being with someone half decent, you've been setting me up on horrible dates where the guys are complete jerks or try to ship me off with some loser because you don't want to step on anyone's toes?"
"It's more than that, Y/N," San sighed. "We all like you—"
"Don't I get a say in it too?" you interrupted. "Just because you like me, it doesn't mean that we'll automatically start dating!"
All three men looked down at the ground guiltily. You huffed and lowered your arms, your sadness completely vanishing, leaving you angry and annoyed.
"God..."
You grabbed the TV remote and turned off the movie before cleaning up the living room and kitchen. The three of them lingered near you as they wanted to ask you a question.
"So..." Mingi asked tentatively. "If you had to pick one of us... Who would you pick?"
You scoffed. You looked him dead in the eye and said, "After finding this out? None of you."
"Come on, Y/N, please don't be mad at us," San tried to reason with you. "We honestly thought that this was the best option for all of us to live together peacefully and happily..."
He reached for your arm, but you swatted him away. "How can I not be mad? I've been sitting here thinking I'm worthless because not a single guy worthwhile will ever like me, only to find out that the ones who are actually pretty decent tried to decide my life for me?"
You walked out of the kitchen, but Yunho blocked your path.
"You know that's not what we meant by that," he said, his voice soft, low, reassuring; but you were anything but reassured.
"Yeah? Well, that's how it feels."
You pushed past him. You walked towards your bedroom, but before you could open the door, someone hugged you from behind.
"We're so sorry, Y/N," you heard Mingi's voice rumble in your ear. "We're so, so sorry that we made you feel that way..."
Earlier, when Mingi apologized to you, you started crying, but this time, you were crying... But elsewhere. Mingi's hands around your waist this time around were a lot more exploratory. He laid them on your hip bones and pressed his chest right up against your back before bringing his lips to your ear, his low apologies getting way too sensuous.
"Mingi... Stop..." you sighed while trying your damn best to not let him know how good his hands felt on your body.
"Not until you accept my apology."
"Don't you think all three of you should apologize, then?"
"Of course we will," Yunho spoke up as he approached you from the right, his fingers tucking loose strands of hair behind your ear. Mingi stood upright again, allowing Yunho to say softly into your ear, "We're sorry."
"We're really sorry, roomie," San said as he stood on the other side of you, kissing your cheek lightly as he did so.
San continued to pepper kisses all over your face while taking your hand in his and rubbing circles on your palm, and Yunho opted to start marking up your neck, his fingers tickling your ear as he ran them through your hair. Mingi, who was still behind you, was letting out soft grunts as he buried his nose in your hair and inhaled slowly, deeply.
"What are you sorry for?" you breathed out.
"For keeping secrets from you... And trying to decide your life for you," San answered.
You pulled yourself away from Yunho and Mingi, Mingi whining as a result, and wrapped your arms around San's shoulders. You kissed him softly at first, but San's animalistic instincts kicked in, and he kissed you much harder while wrapping his arms around your waist.
"Don't you think you're paying a little too much attention to him?" Mingi asked somewhat huffily.
"You didn't tell me what you were sorry for," you answered, pushing San away just enough so he'd let you nag the other two.
"Well, I'm sorry for making you more upset when you were already feeling pretty shitty," Yunho said his apologies, and you allowed him to get near you again.
"And you, Mingi?"
"I'm sorry for trying to set you up with that asshole, and for not making a move sooner."
With that, Mingi quickly lunged for you— making you yelp— and carried you into your room before pinning you down to your bed and kissing you roughly. He shoved his hands under your shirt and held your waist tightly. You found yourself getting swept away in his passion, your hands gripping the back of his neck as you pulled him closer.
"I promise you," Mingi uttered between kisses, his breaths shallow. "I'll never make you feel like that again. I'll never let you doubt your self worth ever again."
His words would've made you cry had he not pressed his knee between your legs, his knee rubbing as he moved into you repetitively.
"Mingi, if we're going to break the pact, then shouldn't we all get a chance?" Yunho asked while getting on the bed alongside you.
"You'll have your chance after," Mingi said as he stopped kissing you and sat up.
"I think we all should have a fair shot right now, don't you agree, Y/N?" San sat on the bed as well, his hand brushing your hair out of your face. "It's your decision at the end of the day."
Your mind hazy, you didn't give a fuck. You wanted any of them— no, all of them— to treat you right after the shitty day you had. Whining, you told him, "What you said— That one. I just want to feel good..."
"You heard the lady," Mingi said with a smirk. "Let's give her what she wants."
The three of them helped you undress. You knelt on the bed and observed them. They were trying to be respectful of you, but their eyes were scanning your body. San was the first to move— just like last time. He held your hand and began trailing kisses up your arm slowly, his lips rubbing against your skin.
Yunho, however, took a more aggressive approach— apparently his own patience was wearing very thin. He swiftly lifted you, bringing your legs out. His slender fingers traced a line up the arch of your foot. Your entire body trembled because it was ticklish, but Yunho's intense gaze on your legs shifting to you sent a wide array of emotions to your brain. He stroked your leg, and like San, he trailed kisses up your leg. He started leaving dark marks on your thighs while San opted to do that to your neck.
Mingi sat behind you, his hands wrapping around you and holding your breasts. He had his lips by your ear, his teeth occasionally nibbling on your earlobe as he whispered dirty things to you.
"We're going to make you feel so good," he said, his low voice driving you insane already. "We're gonna fuck you until you can't think straight or speak well... We're gonna make you forget your own name..."
His hold on your breasts got tighter when he heard you stifle a moan. He dropped his head to your shoulder and bit down gently. You gasped, but not just because of him, but because Yunho started working on the space between your legs. You grabbed his hair and tried to get him to go slower because his tongue was flicking your clit at an insane pace. Then, when he shoved two of his slender fingers into your cunt, you were done for.
You were moaning and gasping continuously the closer you got to cumming, but those noises were minimized when San grabbed your face with one hand and kissed you roughly, his tongue practically going down your throat. You held the back of his neck and dug your nails into his skin the longer he kissed you ferociously.
The knot inside you relaxed slightly when Yunho sat up and moved away from your cunt, but then the knot got extremely tight and snapped when Mingi shoved his middle two fingers inside you and fingered you fast and rough. San stopped kissing you to let you scream and cry as you squirted all over Mingi's hands and on your bed.
All three men immediately stripped down to nothing, giving you only seconds to recover from cumming. However, as soon as Mingi shoved his cock in you, you came again since you were still so sensitive from cumming the first time. You were cumming, but Mingi didn't let up in the slightest. He rammed his waist against yours hard before pulling out and letting you actually cum fully. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, and you cried loudly as you covered the bed with more of your arousal.
"Don't you think that was a little too aggressive, Mingi?" Yunho asked Mingi with a slight frown.
"Not at all," Mingi said while petting your head. "I know just what she needs and what she can handle..."
"Yeah, well, you're not the only one," San quipped. He then turned to you and said, "Could you lie down on your stomach for me, please?"
You did as San requested before he manhandled you completely (not that you were complaining because just the act of turning onto your stomach was a Herculean task). He pulled your ass into the air, collected your arousal from your soaking wet pussy, and shoved two fingers into your hole. You grit your teeth to keep from yelping in surprise as he kept spreading his fingers inside you.
While San was busy with your ass, Mingi decided to slip into the space under you. He stuck his fingers in your mouth, the ones he used to finger you just moments before, giving you a taste of yourself.
"You taste sweet... Don't you agree?" he whispered to you, his other hand holding the back of your head, bringing your face closer to his.
He didn't even bother letting you respond. He kissed you, but he was a lot more gentle than you were expecting him to be. You thought that for about two seconds until he lined up his cock with your cunt. He moved his hands to your ass and sat you down on his cock quickly, sending shocks and electricity through your body. You were so startled, in fact, you nearly bit Mingi's lower lip.
Mingi started rolling his hips upwards, his large cock tearing your insides up. Tears were slipping from your eyes again, but this time because you felt so fucking good. Mingi's cock was doing suck a good job at fucking all of the thoughts out of your head that you didn't realize San moved so that he was above you, his chest pressing against your back while the tip of his cock teased your ass.
"You're going to relax and take me like a good girl, alright?" San spoke softly into your ear.
You nodded, making the man waste no more time in pressing his cock into your ass. You gripped the bed sheets tightly as you felt his cock bulge while pushing forward. San exhaled slowly through his teeth, and he let out a sigh the second he bottomed out.
"Fuck..." San said softly. "You're going to squeeze my cock off... So fucking tight..."
So, you did your best to relax again, but every time either San or Mingi moved, you couldn't help but clench, driving both men insane, making them groan into your ears. You let a long sigh of pleasure, your cunt relaxing just enough for them to start fucking you faster. The way their cocks rubbed inside you made you scream and cry— you felt so fucking good, so fucking full, but not all of your holes were filled.
Yunho by you, his fingers running through your hair before holding your head and turning it to face him. He stroked himself as he teased your lips with the tip of his cock, barely giving you a taste of his pre-cum. You opened your mouth, inviting him to push his cock all the way to the back of your throat, making you gag.
Not a single man gave you mercy after that; they fucked you as if their life depended on it. Yunho kept your head in place as he thrust his cock into your mouth repeatedly, his cock hitting the back of your throat every single thrust and making you gag. San was clenching your asscheeks tightly as your ass kept swallowing his cock into your tight hole, and Mingi held onto your waist, his cock going deeper and deeper inside you.
"Shit, I'm so close," Mingi groaned to the point where it was practically a whine. "Can I cum inside you?"
Yunho pulled his cock out of your mouth to let you verbally give Mingi permission. You cried and nodded while saying, "I want to be so full of cum that I feel like I'll explode— Ah! Fuck!"
Hearing you utter those words made San pull out immediately, his cock bulging and throbbing. He and Yunho kept fucking their fists while Mingi ruined your pussy to the point where you thought he was going to start a fire. Groaning loudly, Mingi pressed his head into the mattress and came, his cum spurting inside you. He kept his cock deep inside you, more cum filling you up every time his cock twitched.
The second Mingi let out a sigh of relief, though, San pulled you off him and laid you down on your side. He wrapped his strong arms around you and clutched your breast with one hand while the other held your leg up after he shoved his cock in your cunt to add to the pool of cum inside you. He lasted about five strokes before grunting and sighing in your ear. His cock shuddered inside you before firming up again, but he was forced to pull out by Yunho.
Yunho pinned you down on the bed so that he could look at your face while he fucked you. His hips rolled into yours fluidly, and he kissed your ear over and over again while asking, "You feel good? You like when our cocks fuck you up? You like being a little cum slut for us?"
You couldn't even let out words anymore. You cried and moaned in agreement. You held onto Yunho's back and wrapped your legs around his waist as he sped up— he'd been ready to cum ever since you choked on his cock the first time. Through the tears in your eyes, you saw him grit his teeth, his jaw tensing as he bit back his erotic sighs and groans. However, one groan slipped out when he rammed his cock inside and touched your cervix, making you cream around his cock while he stuffed you full with his cum.
When Yunho pulled out, you clenched your cunt to try to keep the cum from spilling onto your bed, but that wasn't possible since Mingi pushed your legs up and San spread your folds, their cum trailing out of you. Yunho collected some of the cum on his fingers and pushed them into your mouth. You sucked on his fingers and swallowed, Yunho doing his best to stay calm, only for his cock to betray him by springing up.
Actually, all three of them were hard again, and they all seemed to want to ruin you further, but they first had to ask.
"Which one of us do you want?"
"All of you."
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