#idk what came over me

[nanathott]

nanami would massage ur feet if u wear heels for too long🌠

god damn it he so would… gross disgusting fluff under the cut….

“how are you feeling?” nanami asked as he trailed closely behind you, only 2 steps behind you as you sat down on the couch. kento bent down on his knees and reached for your heel clad foot, placing it in his lap

“my head is spinning.” you complain, leaning your head into the palm of your hand to ease the ache the alcohol was putting on your brain. nanami nodded and hummed as he listened to you speak, all the while his large hands were working diligently to undo the uncomfortable straps of your heels

“i’ll get you some water in a moment, alright?” kento offered, keeping his eyes on your closed ones as he slid your heel off your foot and placed it by his side. you kept your eyes shut and nodded, letting nanami manhandle your limbs freely

he placed your now bare foot down on his hard thigh and reached for your other leg, cupping your shin in his hold as he repeated the same process once more. kento dragged his warm hands down the length of your shin, applying just the right amount of pressure, working out the knots in your shin, his other massaging the sides of the heel of your foot

“mmmm…” you softly moaned through your lips, feeling the tention leave your body as nanami worked out the knots in your tired legs and feet. “feel good?” kento asked? his eyes flitting between your beautiful leg and your pretty, relaxed face

“yeah, thank you kento. this is just what i needed.” you responded, fully resting the weight of your head in your hand. kento smiled and continued squeezing and pressing his hand and nimble fingers over the top of your foot and around the sides, making sure he didn’t apply too much pressure to the bottom of your foot that was already sore

kento’s heart felt full and his mind content as he massaged you, watching how your eyebrows knit and unknit as he listened to the pleasured sounds of your appreciative huffs and moans. you couldn’t help but crack your eyes open and smile down at him when you felt his plush lips against your ankle

nanami had lifted your leg to his face and had started peppering kisses up your shin, and a few on the top of your foot. his loving action made you sit up after you locked eyes

you sat up and leaned forward, resting your foot on his upper thigh, his hand still holding your ankle tight as you leaned in and cupped his hand in your face. you were going to speak, tell him how much you loved him, but instead you kept silent, staring into his eyes, looking at the right and the left, just cherishing this moment with him

after some amount of time, you leaned forward and captured his lips in a soft, gentle, lasting kiss. one that made the both of you gently inhale at, your eyebrows knitting the longer your lips stayed against his.

a soft clicking sound echoed between the two of you when you separated from him, rubbing your thumbs in circles against his temples softly as you stared into his eyes with a gently smile on your face

[cynical-canidae]

Compelled by her old man rizz.

[chloesimaginationthings]

The Spot after figuring out his holes

[epiclamer]

Hero shot up, the first thing they knew was that they couldn’t breathe, the second was that it was because they were vomiting. Or, at least, their body was trying to.

They keeled over the side of their bed, clutching their spasming abdomen with one hand while the other held desperately onto the mattress. Their blanket swamped their legs, their shirt was glued to their back with sweat, and their hair was plastered to their burning forehead.

Again, they couldn’t breathe, every muscle in their body squeezed relentlessly as it tried to rid itself of the contents of their stomach. They gagged, shook, and breathed, then the cycle repeated itself. Over and over again, Hero hadn’t even realized it, but they were begging.

Please, please, please, please—

Begging someone or something to save them, to stop this. They convulsed again, eyes rolling back, mouth open, but nothing came of it.

Eventually—after another thirty seconds or so—it stopped. Hero wheezed, their whole body was sickly cold and yet somehow also sweaty, their head was reeling and they couldn’t hold themselves up anymore, they just collapsed.

They had expected to hit the ground head first with a thud, their grip on the mattress was loose and they knew what was in store for them, instead, two arms swooped them up before they could collide, pulling them in close to the stranger’s chest. Hero’s first instinct was to pull away, fight, claw themselves out, but then they recognized this feeling, those arms, and that chest.

“Villain?”

The light on their nightstand flicked to life with a dim yellow glow and with a good twist of their neck Hero could see their nemesis as clear as day.

“Hey, Hero.”

Unwillingly, the hero’s body relaxed, practically melting into the criminal’s arms as they were hauled back up to their bed. Once they could see the villain again, Hero noted the sad smile they were sporting. They looked tired, definitely not as tired as the hero did, but there were bags under their eyes nonetheless.

What time was it anyways? Hero turned to check their alarm clock, it was four in the morning. What the hell was Villain doing in their house?

“Do you know what… that was?”

Hero startled out of their thoughts, eyes meeting the villain’s once more. They nodded, slowly but surely and with some weird ever-growing shame gnawing at their gut. “Nightmare.”

The villain let out a small chuckle, “That is what your nightmares look like?” Their expression however was one of fear.

They nodded, their nightmares had just been getting worse and worse lately there was no use trying to hide it. For whatever reason Hero hoped that being honest would get them some comfort from their lifelong enemy.

A silly thought at best and utterly ridiculous at worst.

Villain pulled the blanket up to Hero’s shoulders, tucking them in carefully. “Are they all like that? Or are some just worse than others?”

“It depends, yeah. This one was one of the more… difficult ones.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” It came out faster than the Hero had expected, almost like the villain had been keeping it on the tip of their tongue this whole time.

The villain’s eyes met the hero’s once more, they locked and finally Hero could see that their nemesis was actually worried. Not scared, or sad, or tired, it was worry. Hero had to fight to keep down whatever emotion bubbled up at the thought of someone actually caring enough to worry about them.

“It’s just violence. Senseless killing, or running from being killed, or chasing after someone to kill.” Their cheeks burnt up in shame, they were a hero, they weren’t supposed to have dreams like these.

They must’ve been deranged, it was the only plausible answer. Heroes were peace-keepers, not killers, clearly, their subconscious hadn’t gotten the memo.

“I’m sorry.”

Hero’s thoughts skidded to a halt. What.

“I’m sorry.” The villain repeated, placing both of their hands against the blanket as if they could read the hero’s mind. “That sounds terrible. I-I can’t imagine what it feels like…” They trailed off, somewhat lost in thought.

Hero’s stomach clenched again, this time out of pure nerves. The worst part of this was that the villain seemed so genuine; Hero was smart enough to know they didn’t deserve that.

“You should really be apologizing for breaking into my house—” They chuckled and even though it was a last-ditch attempt to lighten to mood it seemed to have worked.

Villain scrunched their nose in response, shooting a glance over their shoulder at the pile of notes they had been filing through just a moment ago. Suddenly coming back to the current situation and the realization of what they were doing—caressing their nemesis in bed.

They stepped back and Hero shot up, reaching for the villain before they could stop and think. Tears welled up in their eyes, their breath quickened, the horrible thought of being alone again to manage their own dreams struck them like a blow to the head.

“Wait, wait, wait, please— please stay, Villain please don’t leave me—” They were blubbering, they could feel it, but it didn’t matter; they were desperate. “Please, just stay for one night, please…”

Villain only thought about it for a second, they didn’t need any more time to decide to crawl under the duvet.

[ravensmadreads]

Unhinged totally unasked for thots about Riding Pedro Boys

Authors Note: So this came from me chugging entirely too many energy drinks and then projectile vomiting in Taylors inbox. I'd like to warn you that: English isn't my first language, I have never written smut before, I'm not a real writer, and also I'm trash goblin levels of unhinged about this. That being said; Enjoy and uhh. Forgive me Fandom

JAVIER PEÑA

Javier Pena doesn't let you do it.

Don't @ me LISTEN! (YES I STARTED OFF WITH A CONTROVERSIAL THOT FUCKING BITE ME.)

That man does not have the time, or the patience, or the good sense (the sense is at the other end) to let you ride. He needs the control okay? And sometimes it's not even about the control ! It's the frustration. It piles and piles and piles until he snaps. He needs to do. He will bend you over and work his frustration away until he has had enough and you let him because he needs it. (And lets be real he makes it worth your while every single time)

BUT. When he finally fucking retires, and gets a ranch, and breaths air not tinged with the smells of death, cigarettes and guns for the first time in however many years, and maybe drinks some fucking water, he takes you out on a date. He fumbles through the entire thing, panics because he thinks he blew it, still manages to get you home, gets ridden for the first time in like 6 years, and can't walk straight for an entire day and stammers every time someone asks him why.

JAVIER GUTIERREZ

Javi G loves it. He loves watching you. Gets all puppy dog wide eyed (remember the pool scene face??? Thats it.) and you have to really focus because his look of straight up wonder and awe and bright eyed eagerness makes you want to cry. He's panting like he's running a marathon, running his big hands EVERYWHERE he can reach. He makes you feel worshipped and adored and so very very loved. Thanks you after. For being so amazing, and so wonderful to him, and thanks the universe that he found you. Cause he's sap. You definitely cry after.

JOEL MILLER

(Watch me be controversial again) Joel is fucking tired okay? He has old man bones and creaky joints and his back is achy. Patrol was agony, Jesse wouldn't shut up the entire time, and Tommy was giving him shit, and he has no energy to drill anyone into the mattress (as much as we all want him to). He's just plain tired. He likes you on top. Likes it slow (like a roast chicken on a sunday slow). Enjoys the gradual build up, likes to lean back, watch with half open eyes as you take your time. Wants to indulge in something beautiful at the end of the world, and that something is you. He makes sexy grunting noises, mutters a whole lot of praise ~and filth~ and just y'know. Savours it. 🫠🫠🫠 savours you. 🫠

DIETER BRAVO

Dieter is a maniac. (Leave him alone he has adhd!!) He can't still still for the life of him so you best believe he changes positions 6 times and the only way you're getting to ride is if you're also putting some weight elsewhere. To hold him down! You squeeze his neck once and he MELTS. INSTANTLY. Loses all sense. Starts babbling and whimpering and making extremely pathetic noises. Will definitely buck up and whine. PRAISES YOU. BEGGING. LOUD NOISES.

MAX PHILLIPS

Max is a heathen. He just likes watching you bounce. That's it. That's the post :p

MARCUS PIKE

Marcus P is a romantic. He will be doing the whole "lean forward and try to get kisses in between" while also "moaning and maintaining eye contact" and he's holding you so tight , squeezing your sides and also muttering declarations of love. About how he wants a life with you, and a family, and a home, and a future. How he's going to "make you so happy baby, I promise I will, I swear to you". Doesn't let you off for from on top of him for atleast a half hour after; kissing all over your face and rubbing your back and petting your hair "I meant all of it sweetheart. I want all of you." shsbzgwgsvsg ilovehimsomuch and I've only ever seen gifsets of this man what is wrong with me

MARCUS MORENO

Marcus M is A MENACE. He wears his stupid glasses, and has his stupid shirt off, while he does stupid taxes/meeting plans in bed. You keep throwing side glances and getting increasingly wound up and he just has this gentle smirk but he's mostly ignoring you. You sidle up to him and maybe start kissing his jaw, laying gentle pecks down his neck, and he's still fukcungh working "Baby. I need to finish this. I'm sorry, you need to wait." But that smirk is still there and it's driving you crazy and maybe you keep kissing until you reach his *coughs* and then you're working on getting him interested. You can still hear the fucking pen scratching though and so you go deeper, and he raises an eyebrow. "be good now honey" You're settling in his lap and he has you sitting there until he has finished his paperwork with you whimpering and trying not to squirm because you want to be good you really do and you know he'll make it so much better but he feels so good and when he's finally finally done you get to move but you're so wound up you can't pull yourself together enough to find a rhythm and you're nearly in tears and he has to grip your sides and murmur instructions in your ear and help you until you're satisfied and just when you think he's done, and about to flip you over, he adjusts his grip and starts moving from underneath you until you're crying and he's finished ~which doesnt happen until you've come 2 more times~

DAVE YORK

Dave. Oh my gosh Dave. Dave is a strict dom if ever there was one. With him it's a punishment. He'll tell you to hold off until he's done which is freaking impossible with how deep he gets, and how he likes to warm up his hands on your butt while you're trying desperately to hold onto that last thread of control. He is muttering absolute filth, holding your arms behind your back with one hand while the other is either laying smack after smack or rubbing you furiously all the while he's got the smuggest look. "Don't you dare baby. Be a good girl now. Listen and obey for once". But you can't because he's not fair and he knows it. And when you do finally fall apart he's clenching his teeth trying to hold back himself and his hands are holding you up as you gasp his name like it's the only word you know. He's running his hands down your back and kissing you softly and helping you catch your breath and when you finally get your heart to stop pounding and look up at him, he's watching you with this dangerously soft smile and he goes "oh you're in for it now aren't you honey?" and kisses your forehead while you try not to whimper.

FRANKIE MORALES

Frankie is a soft boy. He loves it. Craves it. He loves giving up control. Wants you to tie him up and have your way until he has no thoughts left in that pretty little head. He is swearing like an absolute sailor the entire time, calling you ma'am, begging to be released so he can kiss you and touch you, absolutely nearly breaks the head board once he was so desperate. Wants to be edged but also is the biggest WIMP about it. Will pout and swear and beg and plead but then want you to deny him again. Will definitely be mumbling absolute nonsense once you're done. Needs all the aftercare. Blushes pink when he gets it. Wraps himself around you like a HUGE koala bear after. ~and returns the edging favour 3 times over when he gets in his Captain Francisco Morales Mood~

JACK DANIELS

BONUS TWO I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT and tumblr won't let me put gifs for:

Jack makes every single cowboy joke known to man. You have to put your hand on his mouth to get him to shut the hell up. His eyes get all glassy when you do. He puts his hat on top of your head and busies himself in your neck (dual benefits: A. He shuts up and B. HICKIES) will definitely drag you on top of him in his Bronco (he likes to show off) will pull up on the side of the road almost 70% of the times you drive together. Bites you over your clothes. Loves the way you grab desperately at this leather jacket. Definitely makes you bend over and 'clean up the mess sugar' before driving like the hounds of hell are after him all the way back home and doing it all over again because "we gotta make you a mama now love"

PERO TOVAR

Pero got married after he came back and retired as a sell sword. His wife is a soft but sassy thing who's a little (read: not at all, she returns his snark twice over) intimidated by him but also thinks he's a good man because he saved her village from raiders. She has seen him grumble and snark at but then also share his food with the orphans who works at the village inn. She's inexperienced (let me live my victorian life) and he doesn't really think he deserves her but also he's not so much an idiot to say no to someone like her. She's the village "healer" and he met her when he got stabbed by one of the raiders (arm wound: not serious.) He has to teach her. She gets shy and flustered, which is a total 180 from her sassy self, and Pero loves it. She makes the most amazing sounds that have him thinking that maybe he did something right in his life to end up in her arms. She wants to please her new husband and asks her married friends for advice and they tell her about this new position. So she asks him, stuttering and tripping over words, if she could try something she heard about? From a friend? She straddles him and Pero loses his mind. He's closing his eyes and clenching his jaw so hard and she's whimpering in the most DELICIOUS way and he's trying so hard to hold back and let her take her pace and she's so worried "am I not doing it right?" Pero has to take 3 deep breaths before he's centred enough to answer and then he helps her. Puts his hands on her hips to guide her. Puts one of her hands on his shoulder "steady now pequenita" and puts the other low on her belly and presses in so she can feel him. Loves the way she cries out. Bends forward to leave little marks everywhere he can reach. She's scrambling at his chest, leaving nail marks he loves, and finally grabbing his hair and pulling until he groans. And when they're both done and sated and sweaty he kisses her, looks her in the eye and winks. "I'm going to have to go thank your friend now, mi esposa."

DIN DJARIN

Din and you dont have time. The razor crest is finally in hyperspace, you got shot at for the 50th time in 2 weeks, (because Murphys Law seems to be the only law Mando never breaks), you're exhausted, sweaty, and the giggly green monster of chaos only made you chase him down from the top of a weapons cabinet twice before he finally decided to take a nap. You're frustrated, and in desperate need of a shower, and a nap, but also you can't get the image of Mando fighting out of your head. Before you know it, the hormones have taken over and you're attacking him in the pilot seat. The bucket is off (I refuse to look at my own reflection in the tin cans helmet while we do the do), he's got you arching into him, your shirt is half torn from the top because Din refuses to wait for "so many fucking buttons Meshla" the gloved hand is squeezing the back of your neck, his mouth is on your chest, his other hand (you only managed to get one glove off) is splayed out on your back. You're riding him like you're trying to break him and his thigh holster? thing (do i look like i can figure out what they're called?) is digging marks into your skin but you're too turned on to care. It's frantic, it's messy, you're PRAYING the tiny green menace stays asleep as you do your best to muffle your sounds. The refresher isn't big enough for a round two, (you still do your best), and your legs feel like jelly, when you finally pass out; curled up on top of the human space heater while he hums Mando'a in your ear.

*****

TAGGING: @chronically-ghosted (you are a menace but ily)

@fuckyeahdindjarin (here I go trying that writing thing again, stop me pls)

[unicone0crem]

Can you blow my whistle baby whistle baby.. here we go *whistle sounds*

[needycatboy]

you want to be a good service top don't you?

then stay still, don't move your hips an inch while i suck your tcock and play with your hole. keep a hand in my hair, but don't do anything to move me or lead me. this isn't about you now, this is for my pleasure.

oh, you almost came? i'm sorry baby, you can't finish until im done using you. put the strap on, you don't get the privilege of coming until you've gotten me off first. im going to ride you and play with your pretty nips until you can't even think about pleasing anyone but me. you don't mind if i pull on your leash a little bit to keep your attention, do you?

good boy, you made your sir feel so good today. as a reward, you may grind on my mouth and hand until you come all over my face. don't forget to thank me while you get off ;)

[lockandkeyhyena]

do you guys think starclan would be pro-life. like imagine you’re anthro leafpool and you have prophecy babies and you’re like. screw this i’m getting an abortion. do you think starclan would be like.

[wrathofrats]

Mold me to another form, Press me till I'm raw and sore

Read here on on Ao3!

Happy mountain March have the virgin mountain fic I’ve been teasing for a second. @everybodyshusband COME GET UR FOOD BB

3.5k of pebble and ivy torturing mountain because he’s new and flustered and doesn’t know what he wants and the opportunity that presents itself is too good.

Warnings for voyerism/exhibitionism, some degrading, slight slight manipulation if you squint, little bit of pain but blink and you’ll miss it.

“Looks like we have an audience honey suckle”

Mountain can barely open his mouth to try and stammer out an apology before pebble keeps speaking. His hand moves faster where it’s still gripping ivy, forcing him further into the wood beneath him as he cries out.

“Come on Ivy, cum for him”

Or mountains a cute new summon and pebble and ivy can’t help but sexually frustrate him to no end.

It really wasn't mountains faults.

Pebble had told him to meet him in the greenhouse for a lesson. Enriching the soil or harvesting or something, he didn’t catch it. A quick note in between staring at Ivy who was wrapped around him in the common room. Honestly he barely mumbled out the time before Ivy was pulling his attention away once again.

He enjoys watching them, a mixture of jealousy and tantalization at seeing the two be so close and physical all the time. They brought a sense of loving comfort and a more sensual edge to them, at least to mountain, who was often at their heels learning his way around the abbey.

Mountain walks out into the garden to meet them, seeing no trace of the two. His eyes widened at the more than familiar sounds coming from the back corner where the greenhouse stood. Hushed whispers and moans that were unmistakable even to the new ghoul. The sounds grew louder as he walked closer, mountains feet moving completely on their own accord as if some weird part of his brain actually wanted to get a glimpse of them.

The door opens slowly, mountain internally cursing the old thing for being so rusted that he can barely get it unlatched without it telling on him. His hands shake as they grip the handle, the guilt and shame of trying to watch them making his breath hitch, but he can’t force himself to stop. The greenery covers him as he ducks to peek around the corner.

Pebble has Ivy bent over and pinned against a workbench. One claw digging deep into his hips and the other wrapped around the base of his cock.

“dont you fucking dare cum, be good and take it”

“pebble please I need it I-“

Mountains face flushes deep crimson at the sight of them. The waning sunlight reflects off of the tears slipping down ivy's face and the sound of him whimpering against the wood has mountain breathing heavily.

But pebble? The way pebble treats Ivy like he’s something to use makes mountain feel indescribable. He almost chokes when he hears how pebble speaks to him, at how pebble rakes his nails down his skin and smiles when ivy cries out in pain. It feels weird and his pants are too tight and he shouldn’t be watching this. He's dirty, perverted but it’s impossible to tear his eyes away from them.

A quiet, high pitched whine is ripped from his throat as he adjusts in the uncomfortable position he had settled in, hard and too worked up to think straight.

Suddenly pebbles head turns towards mountain.

“Looks like we have an audience honey suckle”

Mountain can barely open his mouth to try and stammer out an apology before pebble keeps speaking. His hand moves faster where it’s still gripping ivy, forcing him further into the wood beneath him as he cries out.

“Come on Ivy, cum for him” pebble yanks ivys head to the side by his hair to look at mountain. Pebbles hands are quick on Ivy’s cock and before he knows it ivys spilling all over pebbles fist with mountains name on his tongue.

It’s overwhelming, and mountains head clouds as he once again tries to apologize but pebble is too quick for him to react properly. Any thoughts being overpowered by the situation he’s found himself in. Guilt and arousal combined to subdue the regret in his throat almost completely.

Pebble gestures him over without a word, motioning for him to kneel on the grass in front of him. A hand brushes his lips before he realizes what pebble is telling him to do. He doesn’t feel in control of himself as his lips part, staring into pebbles eyes like he’s being controlled and pebble just slips his fingers into his mouth, wiping ivys release onto his tongue before placing his hand under his chin to close it.

“Good boy”

Through blurry vision mountain watches pebble hastily redress himself and ivy, hoisting him back onto shaky legs and giving him a once over accompanied by a sweet kiss. Pebbles attention turns back to mountain, also offering him a hand up and a pat on the cheek before walking out.

It seems like a game to pebble, a joke of some sorts that only really he is in on. The wicked smile as he caught mountain, then looking at him innocently like he hadn’t just made him lick someone else’s cum off his fingers. Mountain doesn’t know what to think.

A haze takes over him whenever he bumps into the two, the memory of the greenhouse incident being the only thing he can think about when he sees pebbles face. Innocent exchanges having mountain flustered and walking off to cool himself down even though nothing has happened.

The interactions don’t stay innocent however.

Mountain chalks it up to a wrong place, wrong time situation instead of anything more sinister. He can’t be blamed for freezing as he notices the lewd wet sounds coming from the living room. Especially since pebble just can’t keep his mouth shut.

Pebble sits on the couch with ivy nestled between his legs. Fingers tangled in his soft brown hair guiding his mouth up and down on his cock.

“What do you think mountain would think if he saw me use you like this sweet pea?” Pebble coos, a mocking smile to his voice that has Ivy whining, muffled and high in his throat. Mountain doesn’t know what to do with himself besides stand still and watch trying to hide himself behind the stair railing.

“Would he just think you’re a dumb whore? Maybe he’d want his own turn with you?” Ivys cheeks heat up more than they already had just thinking about it. Another soft, pathetic sound escapes his throat as pebble pulls hard on his hair, taking him off of his cock. Mountain can’t tear his eyes away, can’t retreat back up the stairs as he knows he should. He feels gross, like he shouldn’t be catching them, shouldn’t be thinking about them like this.

“Oh I know baby, maybe we can ask him” pebble smiles, talking just a bit too loud to be a coincidence.

It’s on purpose. Pebble is a fucking tease.

Every incident is set up just so mountain can catch them. Fucking ivy in plain sight where he knows mountain will be and honestly it’s just to see how much he can get away with. How far he can take his shenanigans before he breaks the innocent ghoul and forces him to use his words to tell them what he wants.

Ivy can’t act innocent either, absolutely involved in the game along with pebble. He plays himself up just to see mountains reaction. Moans when pebble mentions him knowing damn well he’s just around the corner. A bit of pity stays in the back of his mind, but the knowledge that mountain wants them so badly he barely knows what to do with himself is more than enticing to him. He craves the attention he gets from it, craves the fact that someone else needs him. Ivy especially loves how possessive pebble gets at knowing this too, that he needs to show Ivy off like some sort of trophy. So he continues to play along, presenting himself as a good little toy.

Mountain struggles. Hes jumpy, cautious when entering rooms like he might just walk right in on something he’s not meant to. Slow to come around corners and down the stairs, always listening a bit too intently. Pebble and ivy honestly find it cute how careful he appears to be, considering they know how much he likes stumbling upon them.

It doesn’t take much for mountain to break.

Walking in on them almost daily for a week has him about to fall to his knees and beg in front of pebble's door. Not even knowing what he’s asking for, just knowing he wants.

The last straw is walking in on the two again in the living room.

Once again slowly creeping down the stairs, listening intently for any signs he should instead abandon the idea and leave. He doesn’t hear it at first, assuming he’s safe until he’s too far into the room to back out.

Ivy sits on the couch with pebble settled between his legs this time. Both of his hands cover his face but mountain can tell how flushed he is. His breathing is ragged, heavy, as if he’s desperately trying to calm himself down and the smile on pebbles face tells mountain all he needs to know.

Something about Ivy’s cock twitching and leaking as pebble kisses at the head absolutely destroys him. Saliva pools in mountains mouth, and he can’t help but straight up gawk at the situation in front of him.

Hes been caught, he knows he has, but he can’t bring himself to care.

Pebble makes eye contact with him from the floor as he kitten licks ivys tip, curiously eyeing mountain as he lets a line of drool fall from his lips and down the shaft. It feels more like a command than just making him watch, the way his eyes shift as if he is beckoning mountain over to him.

He goes anyways, even if he isn’t sure. They’ve been teasing him for so long he can’t bring himself to believe it’s not on purpose anymore. The upwards curve of pebbles lips confirm his thoughts as he nods downward, motioning mountain to kneel beside him.

“Come on, you know what to do big guy”

Mountain looks back at him with something that can only be described as panic. He looks like a deer in head lights with his fingers digging into his knees

“I- I wouldn’t wanna intrude” he attempts to stammer out, looking for any excuse that doesn’t make him sound entirely incompetent.

“You aren’t, look at the poor thing, he’s been wanting your mouth for a while big guy” pebble smiles, with the tiniest bit of giddy to his voice knowing mountain has no clue what he’s doing. Practically taunting him.

Ivy can’t even look down at the two. He continues to hide his face with his hands, red and teary eyed and with how hard and angry his leaking cock looks, mountain can’t imagine how long pebbles been edging him, just waiting for him to show up.

“Just think you’d be better at it” mountain whispers

“Oh do you? Never done this before maple leaf?”

“No i-“ mountain starts, the blatant lie dying in his throat.

“Did you hear that sweet pea, you get to be mountains first” pebble smiles, claws gripping ivys thighs to get his attention. “Aren’t you honored to be able to be the first to fuck his sweet mouth?”

Ivy barely responds with something akin to whimper as pebble scratches him harder, his cock twitching once again at the pain.

“Just watch”

Pebble grips ivy at his base, giving him a good slow lick from root to tip before taking the head in his mouth. Ivy can’t help but give a pained whine when pebble pulls off once again with a little pop, lips pink and a little swollen from teasing Ivy for who knows how long.

There’s a tug at mountains shirt, pebble pulling him to be between ivys legs instead.

“Show me what you learned, cmon”

It’s so clumsy, mountain loosely grips Ivy in fist as if he’s scared to hurt him. He takes a second to look up, before thumbing over his tip as he watches more pre drip down the head, running down his shaft. He feels mesmerized, watching in awe while Ivy reacts to his every touch.

Mountain chases it with his tongue, licks a thick stripe up ivys shaft to catch it and ivy can’t help but almost buck into his mouth at the sensation.

“Don’t be greedy” pebble snaps at the earth ghoul above them “I’ve taught you better manners than that”

Ivy somehow goes more red than he was, mumbling out an apology behind his hands.

Mountain doesn’t even process most of the conversation, much too caught up in ivys taste. Something between tree sap and honey with his own musk mixed in. He can feel the pulse in his dick, the way it throbs in his hand and the entire situation in front of him is the only thing mountain can really focus on.

Pebble places a loving hand in his hair to attempt to coax him back to earth. His thumb strokes his scalp while mountain just stares at Ivy’s dick. Cleaning him delicately with his tongue as if he’s savoring the taste. Pebble pushes down on his head slightly to find it's much too easy to guide mountains mouth down, using barely any force to coax Ivy’s cock down his throat.

“Just keep those pretty lips open, relax”

Mountain gags a little, making pebble ease the pressure on his scalp off.

“Just breathe through your nose, relax, you’re ok” pebble tells him, voice softer than mountains ever heard it and honestly the kindness makes his vision blur. A complete whiplash to the usual harsher, more sarcastic tone he has.

Ivy isn’t very big, a decent couple inches, not very thick around but mountain struggles anyways. He tries hard, really gives it his best, letting pebble pull him up and down. His eyes water as he tries to force himself to relax. It feels weird, not bad, but it’s different. There comes a point where he’s practically bobbing on his own, pebble barely using any pressure anymore and mountain truly seems in a trance, almost cock drunk just off of only sucking on ivy for a couple minutes.

Pebbles other hand holds Ivy tightly at his base to prevent him from cumming embarrassingly early. Being edged for god knows how long combined with the sight of pebble practically teaching mountain how to use him, it’s just too much for ivy, and pebble absolutely knows that.

It’s a weird power trip for mountain to watch Ivy squirm above him, knowing he’s completely out of his mind with need just from his mouth. The sight of him desperate and practically ruined only fueling mountain to keep going as long as pebble lets him. Ivy’s hips buck as his legs shake, no doubt getting too close for pebble to be able to stop him anymore.

Pebble pulls mountain off just as Ivy is about to tip over the edge, quickly hooking a finger into his mouth to force it open. The other hand strokes Ivy, working him through his orgasm as he releases onto mountains face. He hungrily laps at what little bit got onto his lips and tongue. A dazed, static feeling settles into his brain and he can’t bring himself to close his mouth again. Hot and flushed, panting as ivys cum still sits warm on his skin. Mountain looks completely ruined, and pebble can’t help but feel proud of the two, if not jealous.

The sight of mountain completely ruined after just using his mouth is more than pebble thinks he can take. Honestly he can’t help himself. Thinking of the sounds he made with Ivy’s dick in his mouth, the look of submission in his eyes while pebble manhandled him into doing what he wanted, it’s too much for him to not need to get his hands on mountain himself.

He finds him in the greenhouse a couple days later. Leaned forward against the workbench mixing soils. There’s a tense smile as pebble walks in, mountain clearly being wary of the situation but knows what’s probably about to transpire anyways. He turns and backs up without being made to, giving easy access for pebble to drop to his knees in front of him.

There’s a struggle with mountains belt, pebbles shaky hands clumsily undoing the metal, an uncharacteristic nervousness about him as he works. He fumbles with the zipper, tugging at his jeans and boxers until he can pull mountain out fully.

Pebbles mouth waters. He almost moans when he finally sees mountains cock in front of him. He’s much bigger than he imagined, his hand barely wraps around the base and pebble curses under his breath. Mountain can’t help but feel a pang of pride at the way pebble acts so flustered at seeing his size.

His tongue darts out to kitten lick at the head, making mountain lean back to grip the workbench and push his hips forward slightly in hopes pebble will just swallow him down instead of playing his usual games.

A line of spit falls from pebbles lips and runs down his shaft. He makes a display of himself, mouth wide as he continues to tease, looking up at mountain through his eyelashes. He swirls his tongue around the head, before licking a fat line from his base, catching the small amount of pre that’s already started to form. He continues to tease until mountain is gripping the bench behind him so hard he’s sure there will be nail indents in the wood when he’s finished, cock angry and red and borderline painfully hard.

Swallowing him down is much more difficult than he thought, jaw aching at the size but pebble craves to feel him down his throat, stretching his mouth wide and making him gag. Mountain can barely bring himself to look down at the ghoul below him. It’s the first time he’s realized how much smaller pebble is than him, watching that hot, tight little mouth wrap around him and pebble can barely fit half of his cock down his throat before he’s gagging.

It’s hard for pebble not to feel smug. Getting him worked up and desperate, being the first to have his mouth on him. The sore throat the next day will only be a trophy for that testimony, a badge of honor. He wants to stay there, tease him for hours until mountain has tears in those big brown eyes but he just needs to feel him cum down his throat. Hes quick, sloppy, doesn’t want to take his time anymore, just wants to hear what mountain sounds like when he comes apart. Saliva runs down his chin as mountains hips move on their own, fucking up into pebbles mouth and in any other situation he’d chastise him but he can’t bring himself to care. It's easier than he thought, mountain attempting to choke out a warning only a couple minutes in but there’s barely an intelligible word before he’s shooting down pebbles throat.

Pebble pulls off with a pop, muttering a couple praises before smiling and leaving as if nothing happened.

He needs to tell Ivy, craves to be able to see the look on his face when describes how big he is, what he sounds like, what he tastes like, practically bragging about being able to get him like that.

He waits until he’s got Ivy pressed against the mattress, hands on his hips with his lips close to his ear

“Fucking massive, he would probably just split you in two if I ever met him get his hands on you honey suckle” pebble whispers, thrusting hard and fast while Ivy chokes on his own moans at what pebbles telling him.

“Probably would break my pretty toy, don’t know if I’d be able to let him have you doll”

Pebble can feel Ivy go tight around him, eyes crossing at the idea as pebble fucks him. The mixture of the way pebble rails him into the bed and the idea of mountain being so big he could break him, has ivy drooling, brain short circuiting before he’s almost begging for it. He simply needs to witness it for himself.

“Barely could get my hand around him, only god half of him in my mouth before I started gagging” pebble chuckles, “god should’ve heard him when he came down my throat, would’ve recorded it if I want so selfish”

Ivy tries not to moan, focuses on not saying mountains name and pebble can tell he’s struggling to control himself

“Cmon honeysuckle, know you want to say his name, cry out for him doll and maybe I’ll let him have you” he taunts

Ivy continues to stay silent besides the small noises forced from him as pebble uses him.

“Tell me what you want baby, go on”

Ivy fights himself to say it because he can’t imagine being allowed to be desperate for someone else let alone cry out their name while pebble has his cock in him. A hand grips his hair, pulling his head back.

“Say it”

“Fuck- need mountain to break me, need him to use me and fuck me open, need him to fucking split me in two pebble please-“

The embarrassment in ivys voice is reward enough for pebble, laughing at how shaky he is before releasing the grip on his scalp.

“Gonna cum for him? Make a mess thinking about how he would fucking ruin you?”

[choism]

riding bf!san for the first time and he comes as soon as you're fully seated, but instead of being turned off u start bouncing bc he's still hard

San's breaths quicken as your glistening cunt hovers above his twitching shaft. You had been edging him all night and now his cock is ready, he's resdy to be fucked.

You sink yourself down onto him and as soon ad you bottom out he lets out high pitched gasps and whimpers and immediately you feel his hot semen fill you to the brim and leak out of your cunt.

You feel seemingly endless ropes of cum spurt into you, filling you to the brim and making you feel so much fuller.

"Mommy I'm sorry," San says with hot tears spilling from his glassy eyes. "Felt so good couldn't help it please- ah!"

You move your hips up and down, utilizing the natural lube fron your slick and his cum to your advantage and bouncing at a brutsl pace on his sensitive cock. San starts practically screaming with pleasure from the hours of edging and now overstimulation, his spent cock sending waves of euphoric pleasure from his head to his toes.

He can feel it already bubbling inside of him, another orgasm hot and making its way to his center fast. It feels so hot and tight like a rubber band about to snap from being stretched to far and with a few more thrust he cries out as he feels your wet walls clench around him.

He fills you up once again with his semen, this time even more comes out as he feels his balls tighten and cintract with pleasure and his cock twitch with each rope.

"Mommy! Fuck fuck fuck mommy god!" He garbles out, barely intelligible with the way you continue to roll your hips again.

"I haven't even cum yet sweetheart, wanna go another round?"

© Choism 2023. do not repost or translate.

[ghostreblogging]

Jazz thought she knew her parents. I mean they were idiots and stubbornly held their awful beliefs but she always thought that when Danny finally tells them . Reveals his identity they would turn around.

Jazz loved her parents. Even with their ghost obsession. She still believes their love would conquer that. That they would feel regret for their many threats and attacks against Danny

Jazz also loved Danny. She loved how much of an idiot her little brother could be . How he would always try to look out for his friends and sister. Even if he could be a little gremlin.

That illusion shattered when one day when she came home Danny was not to be found anywhere in the house. Weird, there was no news about any fights... He must be out with his friends

Three hours . It took her three hours to realize something was wrong.

A non breathing Danny.

A broken portal.

She just kept hitting Maddie and Jack. They weren't moving anymore.

She needed to get away.

She needed to get out.

She gathered her brother up.

12 pieces.

Too much blood.

Then she woke up in Gotham. It's fine.

She got herself an apartment. A job . She sewed her brother back together. He'll be fine. He recovered from much worse. Before she knows anything he'll be back.

She - his heart still beat so softly that it might as well have been her imagination. BUT still that must be because he's a halfa. It must be it. Otherwise. . . no use thinking that.

There is a smell of rot and burning flesh coming from his room. Must be a halfa thing. If only she had access to the far frozen. She has been trying to build a portal but it's been hard. The blueprints themselves are almost unintelligible, and she can't understand the mad writing of jack and Madeline.

It was another normal day. Ah well the new normal. Jazz had been trying to clean around the areas around the sutures.

"Jazz." She perked up. It had been months. May-

"You can't keep doing this.". Danny was still stiff as a corpse. And that pulse is still as soft as ever. But she knows her little gremlin was still alive as he can be.

"Please, remember? You always told me to take care of yourself. Take your own advice" and Danny was right. Well even if it was just a hallucination. He was right. Jazz should maybe take a break. After all for the last few months she had been only focusing on Danny and the portal.

So came a different routine. That led to meeting Jason.

And they became closer. And he became frequenting her apartment. She made sure to lock Danny's room. The guest room.

After a few months. Jazz finally introduced Jason to her little brother.

Jason found no pulse. He found a corpse on the bed.

[lightasthesun]

Imagine surviving the war only to lose most of the people closest to you.

The Woman that once upon a time held your heart in her hands.

The Girl that you loved like a daughter and whose death would ultimately lead to you losing your only brother.

•

In this universe, the river of time flows differently. Each step, each choice, and each poignant moment in its stream drift slightly off course.

It starts like this:

When Ahsoka and Bo-Katan ask the Jedi Order for aid in freeing Mandalore from Darth Maul's grasp and finally putting an end to the former Sith's reign, Obi-Wan does not ignore their call for help. Satine's ghost still haunts his nightmares, and it's the look on her sister's face, along with the redheads snarling accusations and Ahsoka's distant demeanor, that cause his typically composed exterior to splinter.

Through the cracks in his shields, a presence slips in – wild and tumultuous, yet practically radiant in its brilliance.

Days, months, weeks and even years later Obi-Wan will wish he'd taken a little longer to cradle her presence close.

It ends like this:

Anakin with Windu on the Invisible Hand. A incapacitated Sith in custody and another, more vile, more cunning, more sinister, choosing the wrong moment to reveal himself. A twist of fate. A long lost friend showing signs of old loyalty. Lightning. Screams. Hurt and Betrayal. The Chosen One as he was meant to be without terrors of the night influencing his most damning decision. Red clashing with purple, with blue. Red, blue, purple, blue, red, purple— A head rolls. The cackling stops.

For a moment, Peace.

A bond, frail at the edges but oh so resilient, crafted amidst blaster fire and silly nicknames and bets made on the battlefield, breaks—

Anakin screams.

•

On Mandalore the last chess piece falls with a Padawans last sacrifice.

First, Maul taunts. Maul laughs. Maul feeds on rage, on grief and hurt and terror, terror, terror. He's stronger here. Less controlled too, but while his greed costs him his head, his strength costs Obi-Wan the centerpiece of his lineage.

Obi-Wan holds his daughter as she bleeds out in his arms. His shoulders shake but he does not cry. His eyes burn but he does not weep. His lips twitch but he does not sob. He holds Ahsoka much the same way he held Satine only months before.

“No, not you too.”

Something flickers inside his mind, once, twice. It grows ever dimmer and Ahsoka's grip on his shoulder, ever weaker. A feeble voice inside his mind, It's okay. It doesn't hurt. I'll be okay, Master.

But this time no reassurance, no hand to his cheek, no last confession, nothing, will temper the anger slowly rising in tandem with his grief. He needs a medic. He needs a medic, now. Where's —

Cody!

Obi-Wan doesn't like the expression on the face of his slowly approaching Commander. The furrow of his brow, the emotion in his eyes. He doesn't like that Cody has taken off his helmet and reaches out to hold Obi-Wan by his shoulder as if he knows Obi-Wan needs the physical support, as if Ahsoka is going to —

“Master—”

Obi-Wan turns his eyes back on his Grandpadawan. Hers are barely open, her lips smeared with blood. Obi-Wans eyes catch on the red trailing down her chin and the length of her throat.

Ahsoka catches his eyes and smiles. She tugs on their bond the way she had always done before a battle, up until her last assignment on Caito Neimodia.

She tugs once, twice, three times. His heart squeezes painfully in his chest. He tugs back three times.

He does cry then. For the life she will never have. For the peace she will never experience. For the war she fought and whose final victory she will never reap. For the girl he learned to love as his own.

And even in her last moment, even in pain, even after Hurt and Miscommunication, and Betrayal born out of insecurity and misjudgment, she still worries for others first. For him.

You're safe. You're all sa—

He shushes her. Tired amusement tingles across their bond.

Then,

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale.

You are forgiven, Obi-Wan.

Exhale. The light winks out and as their bond shatters his last remaining one pulls tight with white hot agony.

Cody is all that keeps Obi-Wan upright right then and there.

•

The war is over. They won. So many dead. His lineage torn asunder.

Ahsoka is dead. Anakin won't speak to him. Qui-Gon is dead. Dooku is imprisoned.

Here the river of time finds a stream parallel to the one we know.

Obi-Wan and Yoda at the end of things.

[eridiasangel]

Kuras but he's in the wavemothers robe from bg3

[selarina]

Ode to Psyche

The King's Gambit

-> Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader

Summary: A fallen Princess battles against her captivity in a tower pitted against the usurper Gojo Satoru, but soon their relationship shifts from hostility to a delicate alliance.

Content Warnings: usurper gojo, war, gothic au, politics, power dynamics, isolation, manipulation, forced marriage, psychological drama, enemies to lovers, dubious morality, beauty and the beast motif, implied sexual undertones, violence (non-graphic), feelings of inferiority, infidelity (but not really), suicidal thoughts, mention of death

Read on AO3 | Part 2 | Part 3

You're a member of the Royal Family, and after a lengthy and frankly boring fight against the enemy, they emerge victorious. They're led to glory by a few distant allies, clans to be precise, who seemed to have turned against your family.

At the front of this alliance stands a man called Gojo Satoru — with otherworldly features like white hair, and a general tall looming presence that you can't fully explain. His eyes seem to have never seen the light of day for you to even place color to them. It's always tightly wrapped with a gray or eggshell white cloth, and yet he moves the same as any other able person if not better. He seems to be faster and stronger than anyone else in this entire kingdom.

Some days you find yourself believing this yourself. You hate him but he is strong, and a strategist at heart. When you play chess with him, he's always playing the Closed Ruy Lopez, the Slav Defense, and of course, the Queen's Gambit — your personal favorite. He's always playing the long game and alas, always winning.

But mostly you think you hate him because he makes you feel less than what you were, less than god to be precise. You are Royalty — were — it's complex, but you were once always bathed in gold, and your hands were always soft because you never had to lift a single thing in your life unless it was you who wanted. But now they bear a calloused nature with bruises because you are stubborn and will not let these foreign hands touch your skin. But mostly, you hate him because you were smart. You were smart because you could be — I mean, who's to question a Princess?

But now you're talked over — walked over — by men and women alike who were previously less than dirt to you, and it leaves you reeling with enormous sadness and pure unbridled rage.

You want it back, you want it all back.

You're still a Princess, you think as you're trapped in the tall tower. You will feign incompetence, and they will believe you because who's to question a mere Princess? And then you will strategize, and you can marry or slit all of their throats — whatever works out faster, you will do.

But Gojo Satoru is cruel at heart. It may be a game of strategy that you know to play all too well, but it twinges something in you. He refuses to let you bury your father in your family grounds that have been told to hold a divine link between Heaven and Hell themselves, all because he needed to make a message and couldn't be seen to show empathy to your family — even in death.

And you're almost certain he considered just killing you but kept you strategically alive because the very first time you sneaked out of your tower before you realized you could never truly escape his eyes, you realized that his hold on this kingdom wavers greatly, and you could easily find a few allies and win the kingdom over yourself.

But it seems Gojo Satoru knew this all too well, because now you stand to be forever betrothed to the man. He announces this the very first time you win against him at chess. Maybe he knew of this and let you have a small victory as comeuppance. Now your gloating seems to akin to a player gloating over collecting pawns on the board.

After refusing to let you leave the tower, refusing to make your marriage a real one, after he married and brought in another mistress to further strengthen the kingdom after he killed your brother — your only remaining family — you think you've had enough of this indignation. You don't just feel less than god, you feel less than human, less than mere dirt.

As the days turned into weeks and then months, almost nearing a year after the war, you found yourself increasingly trapped in a peculiar dance with Gojo Satoru. His visits became a regular occurrence, and he no longer visits just for intel on the proceedings of the kingdom. Each time he entered the tower, he brought with him an array of gifts. His gifts varied from rare and exotic books to delicate trinkets from distant lands. You couldn't help but wonder if these offerings were genuine gestures of goodwill or just another move on his intricate board.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Gojo Satoru walked into the tower. The golden hue cast across his face as he carried a small, intricately carved box. He placed it before you, and as you opened it, you saw a delicate silver pendant, a radiant sapphire at its center.

"It belonged to my mother," he said softly, his eyes betraying a hint of melancholy. "She once told me that it held a piece of the night sky within it."

You casually dismissed the pendant, fully aware of the history it carried. Throughout the kingdom, the tales of Gojo's tumultuous relationship with his mother were well-known—filled with heated arguments that culminated in her tragic demise, a victim of a mysterious poison. With a derisive snort, you sneered, "And what of it?"

"Perhaps nothing," he replied. He smirked. "Merely a token of my appreciation for our… ongoing conversations."

As the pendant lay discarded on the table, Gojo's smirk only seemed to grow. His eyes appeared to study you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. The year at this tower and his occasional company have driven you a bit insane. If only you could unravel the cloth that hides his eyes. You would be content. You think you could fling yourself off this tower, and you would be okay in Hell with the company of his eyes and only his eyes. You think again.

"What do you want, Gojo?" you finally spat out, breaking the tense silence. "Your trinkets mean nothing to me."

He chuckled. A low and slightly chilling sound that reverberated through the room. "Oh! But isn't that where you're wrong, my Queen?"

He stepped closer, his presence seemingly filling every inch of the space around you. You clenched your fists. His presence never intimidated you before, not when he treated you with disdain or mere dismissiveness. But now that he's trying to show and have the first conversation that holds something real, it's scaring you. It makes you want to go hide under your bed.

"I won't be swayed by whatever this is, Gojo. You should stop, and we should be as we are."

"Hmm?" He bends to look straight in your face. You wonder if he even sees you, even from under the cloth. "But I wonder, have you truly considered your situation? You're alone in this tower, isolated from the world, and your kingdom is under my control. You may resist now, and the next year, and maybe for the next 10 years after that. But what will you do when the weight of your isolation becomes too much to bear?"

He steps in closer, and closer until you’re backed up against the stone walls of your castle, “What if you go absolutely bonkers and off yourself as your mother did?”

At that, you snap, punching his chest, over and over, and yet, he remained unmoving, an unyielding monolith. You continue your trivial rampage until you grow tired, your eyes weeping blood, and your hands aching for more, but falling against your side — you’re only human and he’s — you’re not sure what he is. 

He doesn’t say anything as you you fall against his chest, your forehead resting as you think about nothing. He merely picks you up, placing you under your sheets as he kisses your forehead. His lips were as strangely tender, an unsettling contrast to the turmoil he had wrought. 

In your weariness, your eyes half-lidded. You speak up but your voice comes out as a soft whisper, “Why are you doing this?” 

"We are more alike than you care to admit," Gojo remarked. “I guess I want you to understand me as I understand you,” he replied, his voice mirroring your softness.

After that, you change. Your heart remains unwavering and loyal to yourself but you try with him, if only to unravel the cloth around his eyes. You take his gifts, with the occasional thanks. You start making requests, requests he fulfilled in excess. One time, you asked him for a rare book – one that only had about 11 copies in the world, and he got you all 11. Plus, a 12th one that seemed to have been hidden from conversations. 

And on one fateful night, that you still can’t seem to forget — a storm raged right outside the tower, casting an eerie glow through the windows that you left ajar on purpose. Satoru decided to accompany you, and the two of you found a comfortable tune in the silence. 

You turn as you feel him shuffle to sit closer to you, and as a bolt of lightning split the heavens above, he reaches up to his eyes as he slowly unwound the cloth from his eyes, revealing eyes that held the same depth as the sapphire that sits in your bureau. 

You reach up before it fully unveils his eyes to assist him, your hand sitting on his cheek as you’re halfway done. 

“Do you see me as I finally am?” He implored his question lingering in the charged air. 

But you don’t respond, merely a puppet to the moment as you inch closer and closer and closer until you feel his breath against your lips. 

That night, he lays against your body, awake as his hand caress the slope of your hip, as you finally don the sapphire he got for you as your eyes come to close.

You wake the following morning greeted with the sight of the same man offering breakfast, and as your gaze entwines with his, his eyes no longer obscured by cloth, you're uncertain how to confess to the dreams that have been haunting your sleep — dreams of a raven-haired phantom. With black eyes that seemed to eclipse his blue. 

[titobeauvi]

[parkermunson]

Eddie begging for your attention and hands.

No specific pronouns but reader wears a skirt♡ [1.5k]

TW: Smut, 18+ only!!!!! Handjob, dacryphilia, begging (obv)

A/N: This is my very first smut, please be kind! But also I'm open to suggestions. I wrote this at 2am and haven't really looked it over so mayhaps some grammatical errors are present.

~

Perhaps the warmth of the oncoming spring ignited something in you, an insatiable hunger to tease. Or perhaps a need for control. You've been teasing him all day with your subtle touching. He's barely holding it together, his breathing unsteady and labored.

Sitting next to him at Hellfire was the perfect advantage (or punishment), gliding your hand over his knee and thigh, rubbing your thumb through his jeans with slight pressure. When you felt particularly evil, your fingers would dive into the hole in jeans to drag your nails against the skin on his lower inner thigh. Eddie's eyes would flick to you immediately, unsure whether he wants you to continue or stop altogether. When his breath hitched particularly noticably, you pulled your hand away. His knee would jerk toward you, but this was just a pause to the torture. When his attention was fully invested in the game again, his mind drifting from you finally, you repeated the cycle.

By the end of the meeting, his thoughts are focused only on you and yearns for your hands to be on his, preferably bare, body. But you're having too much fun with this cat-and-mouse game.

On the ride home, you keep your attention out the passenger side window, away from him, with your hands folded in your lap. He sighs over the soft music playing on the radio, hoping it'll grab your attention, but it does little more than boost your confidence. You can feel him shifting in his seat uncontrollably, his eyes jumping between the road and studying you. He leans over and grabs your hand to hold in his, thankful to feel your warmth, even if it isn't exactly what he wants. His thumb rubs the back of your hand, reminiscent of the pattern your thumb drew on his thigh earlier.

After a few minutes like this, he realizes it isn't enough. Your bare thigh is right there, peeking out under your skirt, and his memories from the night before recall the soft feel of it against his cheek. Your attention is still focused on the passing houses outside the van and your hand is limp in his. He lets out a whine, and you smirk out the window, not breaking your facade. The van is nearing your house and he's nearing his breaking point. Eddie isn't afraid to beg when he's desperate, and your actions are hurling him toward it.

"Baby, look at me, please," he whines. You heart skips a beat at his voice. Even after hours of listening to him narrate the game, he still has the ability to melt your insides in seconds. Your eyes drift from outside to his figure in the driver's seat. He glances between the road and you with pleading eyes.

"Yes?" You bat your eyelashes innocently. After all, your grazes have barely reached anywhere sinful.

His grip on your hand tightens and his gaze is held longer on you while expertly gliding down the road. His lips part for a moment, but close again when no words come out. He's nearing that begging point, though isn't there just yet. His head turns back to the road with another sigh escaping his lips.

The moment you pull up to your driveway, you leap out of the car, leaving a very needy Eddie to follow behind. His hands slide up your waist while you fiddle with your keys in the lock. He's squeezing your hips, wrapping his arms around your torso, and breathing in your scent at the back of your neck. You arch forward the smallest bit, grinding slightly into him, egging him on just a bit more.

A whine escapes him when the lock finally clicks and you pull away. His eyes follow your ass with each step, and he follows you like a magnet. You saunter into the living room, knowing your one-man audience is locked on your every move. Stripping your shoes and jacket off, you pull your shirt out from being tucked tightly into the waistband of your skirt and lift it just high enough for Eddie to glimpse your skin. Finally, you turn to him, only to quickly look away to your television.

"So, should we watch a movie? Maybe find something on T.V.?" His shoulders drop. You think you've lost him for a moment, but then he's sliding to you in long strides, colliding his hips to yours. His eyes are wide, dark, and filled with lust. He needs your attention. He needs you.

He grabs your chin in his thumb and index finger so gently and lifts it to meet his eyes. "Please..," he begs. His hips pushing further into you so you can feel his need pushing into your lower belly. Your hands remain at your sides, knowing the smallest touch would be giving in too soon.

"What do you need, baby" you all but whisper. Your eyes bore into his, daring him. He grows harder with your eyes on him now, as if your attention in itself owns him. As if the very essence of your being is the gravity holding him here.

"Please touch me." His eyes soften at the words leaving his mouth. The voice that leaves him sounds almost breathless, a huge contrast to earlier at Hellfire. He's breaking and you're eating it up.

"I need more than that, love. You can do better," you assert. While his voice grows softer, your's becomes firmer. The confidence in you is building the more you remember your control over him. Usually Eddie is the boisterous one, with a mouth that never shuts up. Now, he can barely form words, poor baby.

He closes his eyes for a moment, as if willing himself to stay focused. His hips stay pressed to you, unmoving. He knows better than to try anything. His breathing falls heavy on your face, and his grip on your chin has a slight shake to it. He's reached that point, he's at your mercy completely.

"Please... please touch me. I'll do anything, please–" you cut his whines off with an open-mouthed kiss. The begging wasn't nearly as long as you would have liked, but your patience is wearing thin. Your hand grips the hair on the back of his head while the other slides between your bodies to cup his length. A moan hums through him, and you can feel him relax against your touch. You continue to fondle him through his jeans when you break away from the kiss for air. His eyes remain closed and his breathing is labored, practically shaking his frame with every breath.

Much to your disapproval, he bites his lip to keep silent. Your hand immediately stops its stroking, and he lets out a cry. His soft eyes find yours, knowing instantly of his mistake. "Beg," you spit. His eyes are on the verge of tears with how needy he is. He can feel how desperate his cock is with each twitch. You've barely given him a crumb, and he's treated it like a buffet.

"Baby, please, I'm begging you. I need you so badly." His eyes have glossed over, and his knees are weakening. Your hand is still lingering on the front of his crotch, the warmth of your fingers sending jolts through him. "Please touch me, I need to cum, please." His voice is gravelly, and gains strength the more he talks. You raise a brow at him as he starts to babble our pleas, yet your hand continues to remain in the same spot, unmoving.

When a tear finally falls from his lash line and streams down his blushed cheek, both your hands yank down his zipper, freeing him from his jeans and underwear in seconds. His face scrunches at the cold air meeting his heated cock. Another tear breaks free, and your tongue glides along his cheek to lap it up.

His head falls back and moans freely, pleas escaping his lips. You spit on your hand and guide it along his length, squeezing him the way he loves. When you reach his tip, your thumb flicks the underside subtly, and barely glides over his slit. He's in heaven, moving his hands to grip your hips to ground himself. Your hand begins pumping at a quickening pace, the feel of the veins rubbing against your fingertips has your mouth watering. He tries to look down at your hand moving over him but the pleasure is too much, and his eyes keep closing. You mouth at his neck, biting and sucking marks into the soft skin you can reach. The sounds running past his lips has your legs ready to buckle beneath you.

As he nears his orgasm, you speed up your hand. He's a mess of moans and begging. "Don't stop" leaves his lips, over and over like a prayer alongside your name. His eyelids are fluttering and his hips are thrusting forward to collide your hands with his pubic bone. Your hand reaches into his hair, and pulls, hard. It pushes him over and he's jerking against you as he spills against your wrist and arm. You continue stroking him as he rides out the rest of his high. His hand finds your wrist and grips it tightly, when the movement becomes too much.

"Fuck, I love it when you beg."