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#lets just play early access too
bleaksqueak · 12 days
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Desk is cozy.
Got my rat.
Time for some special interest brain juice.
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luvwestwood · 5 months
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"Thank You For Your Service" - Toji Fushiguro, Ryomen Sukuna
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4,341 words.
warnings. nsfw, firemen! toji/sukuna, food-play, oral sex, p in v, mildly dubious con, double penetration, unprotected sex, throat fucking, rough play/sex, praising kink, creampie, degradation/dumbification (slut, whore)
notes. as an owner of your own independent bakery, you deliver your local firemen some sweet treats as a 'thanks' for their service. although a few of the men at the station decide to have a little fun with you. aka toji and sukuna fuck you silly and stuff you with their cum like a profiterole. also this has been in my draft for ages and I wanted to post it before I get back to classes 😭💀
banner cred. @/yunonoai on twt/ig
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After successfully balancing the cash register, you glance over to the clock on the wall that reads sharply, '4:30' in the afternoon.
The rest of the staff, aka the young students you've hired to work in your bakery were long gone, as you had let them off quite early today.
You walked over to the display fridges to see what's remained of the cakes from today. As expected, there were a good few things left such as profiteroles and small dessert cakes.
"Mmm, maybe I should give these to the firemen down at the station."
You smiled as you came up with the sustainable idea to gift the local fire station a box of sweet treats as a thank you for their service. I mean, who wouldn't want free cakes?
You hummed as you tied the pink ribbon over the box. Hopefully you put enough in there, you knew that those working at the fire station were hardworking people, so they needed a lot to refuel.
Glancing to the clock again, only fifteen minutes have passed. You decided it was time to make your way to the fire station. You made sure everything was left prepared for the opening staff tomorrow. Grabbing your coat from the staff room, you took the rest of your belongings, and the nicely wrapped box, making your way to the fire station.
The walk wasn't long, as the station was only located down the avenue. They put the station in a place to make sure it was accessible for everyone. It was convenient for you at this moment too.
Coming to the front of the fire station, you were met with the garage shutters open. You weren't sure if you should just walk in through there, or go around to the visitors entrance. The lights were on though, and you could hear a faint chatter coming from the inside.
Deciding to take a peek, you could see two men sitting in chairs and talking, which you assumed were the firemen on duty today.
You couldn’t really make out their faces, but you could tell one had coral hair, the other, a dark black. At the same time, you mentally slapped yourself for freezing in one spot, wondering why you were unable to move.
Your eyes scanned their bodies, the muscular physique they owned had only been complimented by the fitted navy shirt they were wearing. You could tell both had put in the work at the gym. For once, you wished you were in a burning building right now.
Suddenly, the coral haired man looked in your direction, and by now you could make out some strange tattoos on his face. You gasp, startled at the fact he had caught you staring for awhile like some idiot. Curious, the raven haired man turns his head as well, and speaks.
"Well.. what do we have here?" he continued, "You lost, doll?" his voice so deep, it only went straight through your ears, down to your pussy.
By now, you had the attention of the two men, and it sort of felt belittling in a way. Part of you wanted to turn around and leave, as if nothing happened. Or maybe you could act like you walked into the wrong place.
Gulping, you clutched onto the corners of the box out of nervousness. "No.. I work at the local bakery down the block. I came here to uhm...” Your voice trails off, you had forgotten what to say.
The coral haired one butts into the conversation.
"Oh Toji, you've made her all nervous. She's so soft spoken now." He motions his hand for you to come closer, the so called 'Toji' rolling his eyes at what the other had said.
Hesitant, you stepped through the garage entrance, now hearing it close behind you as you walked closer to the two men. I guess there’s no turning back now..
You still didn't know what the coral haired one was called.
As you finally stood in front of them, they respectfully did the same, standing from the chairs they were just on.
Your stomach churned as you noticed the difference between your heights, the men now towering over you had only made the nauseous feeling worse. It had caused you to look up at them, like some lost puppy. Am I really this sex deprived?
You could have sworn that you felt something purr down there as the so-called Toji crosses his arms, his massive biceps on show. His navy fitted shirt practically sculpted over his muscles.
Begging to get out of this place that made it more difficult to withstand each minute, you spoke first.
“I work at the bakery down the street,” you continued after a breath, “..and I just wanted to give you these goodies as a thank you for your service to this city.”
Wanting to compensate for discomforting you earlier, Toji speaks. “Ain’t that sweet? S’kuna, take the box and put it behind me on the table.”
Sukuna, gently takes the box from your grasp. You felt your face warm up as his more bigger, calloused hands made contact with yours. He smiled at you, possibly for a silent thanks. You couldn't help but do the same.
Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you blushed. Flattered that these men were praising you. “Oh, it’s nothing really..” you slowly took a step back. “Anyways, I better get going.”
Toji had only kept his eyes on you, as if he were to devour you at any moment. Leaning against the table behind him, Toji didn't dare to look at anything else in the garage. Sukuna was busy on the other hand, toying with the pink ribbon on the box.
“..Leavin’ already? Isn't that a shame, I thought that you yourself came with these desserts.” Toji snickered, looking at Sukuna behind his shoulder for a response.
Your lashes fluttered, in utter shock you were speechless.
Sukuna, could only laugh at Toji’s cheeky joke that was laced with filth. His own eyes watched you as he sucked the cake’s cream off his fingertips.
Awkwardly laughing, you brush off what just happened. “..I really.. need to get going. I have a bus to catch.” You lied, thinking that it would be able to get you out of here.
“C’mon, it’s not everyday we get the opportunity to share these cakes with a pretty girl. Right, ‘kuna?”
“Yeah, today’s our lucky day.” Sukuna hums, his sentence ending with a smirk.
Biting your lip, you thought about it for a moment. I mean, there wouldn’t be anything else for you to do as soon as you come home.
You knew you were going to regret this, but part of you wanted to stay. I mean, what could go wrong? “Mmm, okay fine, I guess I have a few minutes to spare..”
Toji grins, the scar on his mouth moving with his lips as you walk back closer to the two. "I promise, we'll make the most of it."
He stands back from the table, casually grabbing you by the waist and swiftly setting you atop the table as if you were a doll. You could only hiccup, taken aback by his sudden gesture. You immediately tug down on your skirt due to it rising up just now.
Flustered and warm, you made the sensible decision to take off your coat. Toji only takes it from your possession, setting the coat down on a chair nearby.
Your legs dangled off the edge of the table, slowly swinging back and forth, taking a few breaths to calm your nerves as you watch the men’s next move.
Toji stood in front, facing you, almost between your legs as he reached over to the box of desserts on your right side, grabbing one of the few cream cakes.
Sukuna on the other hand, makes small talk with you. “You make these yourself, beautiful?”
“Oh no, not just by myself. I have a few other staff at my bakery who of course help out.”
He nods slowly in approval, wiping the rest of the ganache off his hands using the pants of his cargo overalls.
You bit your lip, asking a sudden question out of curiosity . “Can I ask, where’s the rest of your crew?.. Is it just you two?”
Toji, busy taking a bite of the cake rolls his eyes. “That doesn’t matter right now,” the question stays unanswered as he changed topics, “God, the cream in this- whatever the fuck this is- tastes great. What you call these again?”
"It's called a profiterole," You watched as Toji took a huge bite, licking the cream off the corners of his mouth.
He uses his finger to swipe a small dollop of the cake’s cream onto his fingertips, bringing it closer to your mouth.
“Here, try it for yourself, It’s the best thing I’ve had.”
Does he expect me to suck it off his finger just like that..?
You knew better, this man was a stranger. Should you really be going around casually sucking on men's fingers? “Oh, I don’t know if I should-”
“Don’t leave me hangin’ doll! creams gonna slide off my finger..”
You shyly gabbed onto his hand, sucking the cream off his fingertip. Toji would be lying if he said that a tent didn’t just form in his cargos. He could feel his cock straining against his pants, begging to come out.
"'Atta girl.." Toji purred as he felt your hot mouth wrap around his finger.
He could only imagine what it would be like if you were to suck your own juices off his fingers after they had just been inside you.
This whole time, Sukuna was quietly watching everything unfold. He could feel a tinge of jealousy wash through him, angered at the fact that Toji was all handsy with you, and poor Sukuna couldn’t get a turn.
His index finger left your lips with a pop, his eyes never leaving yours. You heard Sukuna shuffle around with the box, his footsteps coming close to both where you and Toji were.
He gently pushed Toji aside, and unfortunately the raven haired sex fanatic took offense to that, Toji stabbing daggers into the back of Sukuna's head as he replaced his spot.
You shivered as Sukuna slithered his one hand onto your bare leg, the other hand holding another one of the cakes.
"How 'bout you share this one with me? Say ahh.." He brings the cake closer to your face, your face heating up from his hand slowly caressing the velvety skin on your thigh.
You grabbed onto his hand to stop it, "I'm really full, thank you th-"
Sukuna's hand suddenly moved down to your chest, smearing cake all over your blouse. The rest of the cake falling onto your skirt.
You jittered as you felt the cold cream manage to dribble down your sternum behind the fabric, a high pitch gasp escaping your lips out of discomfort.
"Oh my.." he continued with a devilish grin, "My hand slipped."
You gasped, your blouse now all ruined with red velvet cake and buttercream. "It's.. okay.. I'm heading home anyways."
"No, no-“ Toji behind him stepped in, "We gotta do something about that."
You tried to reassure them; using your hands as support to try hop off the table, "Guys, I promise it's nothing seriou-" but unfortunately Sukuna grabs the side of your thighs, setting you back on the table.
"Yeah no," thinking, Sukuna crosses his arms. "We gotta take that top off. In fact, take everything off."
Toji smirked, and let out a laugh. "I agree,"
Sukuna's large hands reached for the buttons of your blouse, pulling the top apart, the remaining fragments thrown to the other side of the garage.
The tiny buttons fly everywhere as you wince at the sight that unfolded before your eyes. You were able to see the evident change in the two men's demeanor as their eyes landed on the black lacy bra that was now on show.
"Ah-" Sukuna cooed, "She got some between her tits. Get this girl some tissue."
Toji walked around the garage in search of a tissue roll, and you watched him like a hawk, using your arms to cover your chest. "Can't seem to find any 'round here.."
Unable to form a sentence, you gape your mouth open at Toji, then to Sukuna.
"Well that's too bad.." he reaches for your arms, pulling them apart to expose your cake-stained chest back to him. “I wouldn’t mind licking it off.”
“Wait- I don’t think that’s-“ you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want this badly right now.
“Shh…” His hands snake down your chest to your abdomen, gently pushing you to lie against the table.
Your nipples go hard due to the contact of your back with the table’s cold surface, luckily they weren’t able to see that.
You felt as Sukuna’s wet tongue touches your stomach, slowly gliding up towards your cleavage that was stained with cream. You gasp, a breathy moan escaping your lips. That was enough to tell them both that you wanted this as much as they did.
You immediately grab onto his hair, and you could feel the smirk form against your skin.
You heard Toji’s footsteps come closer to your side of the table, he was suspiciously quiet for the time being.
Sukuna would only look up at you as he licked off the creamy residue all over your chest. The warmth from his tongue was ticklish, but this scene arousing enough to have a pool form between your legs.
“Think we gotta take this tiny skirt off too..” you felt him roughly grab on your skirt to slide it off, but not strong enough to rip it apart.
You could only clamp your thighs together, as the rest of your garments were stripped of you, the outcome being you all flustered that you were so exposed in-front of the two men.
Sukuna uses his hand to force your legs open, his head moving between your legs.
Until you felt another pair of hands clutch onto your panties and- rip!
You shudder as your bare pussy was met with the cold air of the garage, hoping to feel Sukuna’s warm, wet mouth but you were mistaken.
It was more cake.
Toji had smeared a Victoria-sponge dangerously below your lower abdomen.
Toji could only palm himself through his pants as he watches Sukuna devour the cake that was making its way towards your clit.
His tongue made its way to your dripping hole, slowly fucking into you back and forth.
“T-that feels.. so good..” you breathe out, Sukuna’s cock straining against the fabric of his pants as he heard this.
Unable to watch anymore, Toji stops palming himself through his pants. He makes his way to the box of desserts, disassembling a jam donut, scooping the strawberry glaze into his hands.
Horny, and jealousy filling his body like mad, he walks behind the table where your head was almost hanging off.
He eagerly unzips his cargos with an unoccupied hand, grabbing for his cock that has been nothing but a nuisance to him these past few minutes.
Too busy moaning in pleasure, you looked up to Toji, your vision of him upside down as you were laid against the table.
You could only watch as Toji’s heavy, thick cock slaps against your forehead, his jam covered hand wrapping around the base and making a mess of it on his length.
You felt his hand smear the strawberry residue all over your chest again, which was most likely for Sukuna to be able to lick.
“Better open wide you slut, or else it won’t fit.” You felt Toji’s hand grab onto your jaw, forcing mouth to open wider.
You moan as his cock fills your mouth so full, the sweet jam from the donut coating your taste buds. Toji wraps his hands around your neck, his two thumbs caressing your throat as he fucked his cock into it.
He groans, “Fuck, just like that..” throbbing as he felt the outline of his cock form against the skin of your throat. Squelching noises could only be heard as he staggeringly rut his hips back and forth.
You could hear Toji grunting above you from the sensation of the vibrations going to straight to his cock as you moaned. You felt Sukuna on the other end lapping at your clit, fucking you with two fingers of his fingers at the same time.
Taking a minute to close your eyes, you indulged in the pleasure you were receiving at both ends. At the same time, you were unable to tell who ripped your bra off you.
Toji pulls his cock away from your throat, leaving you to gasp for air. You shut your eyes tightly, disappointed at the empty feeling you were left with. Warm spit trickled down your face, Toji caressing your cheek but only to slap in after.
Toji doesn’t forget to plant a wet kiss on your lips before pulling away. You whimper as he leaves your side, but only this time he starts walking over to Sukuna’s end.
Sukuna pulled away from your dripping holes too, you wince and moan, praying that this isn’t the final moment that they’d have hands on you. You were too scared that the fun was cut short.
Using your elbows to prop yourself up, you watch the two men, speechless. You try to use this opportunity to catch your breath, but your head only falls back down onto the table. You stay sprawled out on the table, looking up at the bright lights of the garage.
“Feel like it’s time to stuff some cock in that pussy, don’t cha think?” Toji speaks, voice raspy from groaning.
“I think so too. But I’m fucking her first,” Sukuna replies.
A disagreeing Toji snaps back. “Nah, I want to.”
“Aren’t you forgetting we can both fuck her at the same time?” Sukuna suggests, your eyes widening at the thought of two men stuffing you full of cock at the same time.
You could almost predict that they could break you into two, and you have no idea how big any of them are yet. You use your elbows to prop yourself up again, your face showing an expression of disbelief. “I- I can’t do that.. I don’t think I can.”
Of course, they'd hardly take that as an answer. “We’ll see that for ourselves.”
You felt Sukuna grab onto your thighs once more, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pulled you towards him. He effortlessly picks you up, carrying you over his shoulder and walking towards what seemed like one of the fire trucks.
You heard a door open, Sukuna placed you onto a longer leather seat that was behind the driver in the truck cab.
Hearing a door open behind you, Toji follows inside, crawling onto the same leather seat. He lays back, hands pumping his cock as he watches you from the other side of the seat.
Dazed, you could only immediately crawl onto Toji’s lap, straddling him. He grins, his hands squeezing onto the soft skin of your tits and fondling as you waited for Sukuna to join.
Sukuna climbs onto the seat but this time behind you. Toji slightly moves his head to the side, taking a peek at Sukuna. Too bad, Sukuna was already busy fucking your ass with one of his fingers, making sure you were ready to be stuffed of his cock.
Jealous, Toji grips onto the doughy skin on your hips, aligning his tip with your dripping cunt before slowly sliding in.
You let out a long string of moans and curses, as you felt his thick length stretch you out as you sink down onto his cock.
“God, you feel so good around my cock. ‘S like your pussy’s made for it.”
Hearing a zip behind you, you disregarded it, as you were still trying to adjust to Toji’s size. This was cut short as you were caught by surprise by Sukuna filling you up with his own cock, this time in your ass. He was thick, but not thick as Toji. Although the length made up for it, you would think that he was all the way in but in reality it was only half.
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as both of their cocks were stuffed deeply in both of your holes.
Your hands clutched onto the fabric of Toji’s compression shirt, wrinkling it all together.
Toji placed his soles flat onto the seat, using this support to harshly thrust into you upwards more faster than before as Sukuna behind staggered into you at a more slowed pace. Although he wanted you bad, he made sure to be gentle. He just wanted to indulge every inch of you.
Toji on the other hand, bottomed into you balls deep, his thumb cheekily creeping over to your clit, rubbing in continuous circles as they both fucked into you.
“Fucking slut,” Sukuna spits out, voice shaky as the plush flesh of your ass only clenched around him. “Both holes stuffed full of men’s cocks who you don’t know?”
Sukuna reached for your hair, grabbing a handful and pulling you back against his chest.
You whimpered, snaking one of your hands behind to his nape. Sukuna leaned in for a kiss, only to pepper more down your neck to your collarbone.
Toji kept his pace, which as quite impressive. You moaned back into Sukuna’s cheek, feeling a knot twist and form in the pit of your stomach.
“I-It’s too much- I can’t…” Your hand leaves the back of his neck, moving up higher to clutch on his coral hair as the immense pleasure had only washed through you.
Toji below you speaks, “You think we should let her cum?”
Slapping your face as he started to slow down, he could see you were drunk of their cocks. Fortunately, Sukuna was unable to see this as he was busy behind.
Toji thrusted into you balls deep each time in a consecutive pattern, bullying your cervix as your body jolted up and down along with your tits.
Sukuna moved his hands back down, away from your hair to be able to spread your cheeks apart. Groaning as he watched his cock slip in and out of your ass, he makes a decision. “Fuck, I think so. She’s been such a good girl this whole time.”
Toji grins, his hand moving to your cheek but this time roughly caressing your lip with his thumb. “You hear that doll? He says you were such a good girl.”
You were unable to form a sentence, your brains were fucked out at this point and Toji, wasn’t happy with this.
“Fucking answer me you whore,” surprised, you came back to your senses as Toji slapped your cheek harshly, leaving a red mark on your face.
“..Please, let me cum..” you hiccuped, “I can’t take it anymore.”
You watched Toji flash his same old devilish smile through your tear filled eyes, both of their paces picking up again.
Your moans turned shaky, the slapping of balls against your skin and wet noises filling the taxi cab.
Toji went back to lazily rubbing circles on your clit as both of them fucked you, making sure that you would cum on time with them.
This time, Sukuna’s hand wrapped around your throat, bringing your ear close to his mouth. “You want us to breed you? Is that what you want?”
Lost in a trance, you just went with whatever. You didn’t care anymore, you just wanted to be stuffed full of them forever.
You could only nod, but Sukuna couldn’t take it as an answer.
“Use your words baby, tell me what you want.” His warm breath tickled your ear, Toji’s thrusting making it difficult for you to speak.
You held onto Sukuna’s wrist around your throat, “I want.. both of your cum.. in me..”
Although your hand fell back onto Toji’s shirt as Sukuna gently pushed you back down. You sighed out loud, sobbing quietly as you felt his cock slide out of you.
Toji’s deep thrusts were the only thing you could feel, “Fuck, I’m coming.” He grunted beneath you, until you felt Sukuna’s cock entering the same hole Toji was in.
As you moaned out louder than before, the pleasure too hard to bear. You could feel yourself turning into jelly, your hands wrinkling the fabric of Toji’s shirt once again.
Your voice strained as you felt both of their cocks shoot warm, ropes of cum into you. Your orgasm comes crashing down on you, your chest heaving as Toji’s grip on your waist remained, but Sukuna’s hands slowly lost grip on your hair.
Both of them filled up your hole with seed to the point that it leaked out of you in no time.
Your eyes completely rolled back for tenth time this hour, feeling them both twitch inside of you, the white fluid leaking onto the black leather seats of the truck cab.
Sukuna leaves your hole first, moaning at sight of the generous amounts of cum that dripped down his length to his shaft as he slid out.
Followed by Toji, you could feel his cock slip out too, until his finger made its way back inside, making sure to fuck the escaping load back into you.
Both of them had left their mark in you, stretching you out so fully that no cock in the future can impress you but theirs.
You felt like a total cock sleeve, and your body yearned for more. But honestly, it felt like you were gonna break apart. So maybe next time.
All three of you stayed in the same spots, the windows were now fogged up to the point the entire truck cab smelled of sex.
“I can definitely point out one thing you and ‘em profiteroles have in common.”
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⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24. all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts. 🎀🩷
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4K notes · View notes
calenos · 1 year
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FINALLY BOUGHT HADES AND DISCO ELYSIUM THANK YOU STEAM SALE 🙏 
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lavnderwonu · 2 months
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the boy next door | jeon wonwoo
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pairing: idol!boyfriend!wonwoo x fem!reader
genre: secret relationship, established relationship, smut
summary: sneaking around with your secret boyfriend.
warnings: smut (!!!), little plot lol, wonwoo as your secret boyfriend, softdom! wonwoo, wonwoo is hot (yes that's a warning), mirror sex (kinda?), pet names (baby), praise kink, size kink AHEM, clitoral stimulation, fingering, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie, reader has to be quiet, hint at another round.
word count: 1.9k
author’s note!: when i tell you this concept has been on my mind for weeks... i'm not lying. the wonwoo brainrot was hitting HARD when i was writing this. i was originally going to make it a secret situationship but im a #1 hater of that whole thing so relationship it is. plus i just think it'd be hot. who wouldn't want wonu as their secret boyfriend? anyway, let me know what you think, i appreciate feedback! 🩷
click here to join my taglist!
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Your phone buzzes on your nightstand as you’re in your bathroom, going through your night time routine, just like any other night. As soon as you make it to your phone, it’s stopped ringing. Unlocking it, you see a notification.
Wonwoo
Missed Call
Your boyfriend. Well, only you knew he was your boyfriend, anyway. Although you’d be lying if you never posted any “soft launches” of you two, whether it was an extra iced americano on your counter, or a very obvious mystery man driving while you sat in the passenger seat.
Before you can even call him back, he’s already texting you.
Wonwoo: are you awake? Wonwoo: i saw your story earlier. you looked nice.
You went out earlier in the day to run your usual errands, which usually consisted of shopping of some sort, then wandering around a bookstore. You threw on a cute floral mini dress, and for good measure, you promptly decided to take a picture in your full-body mirror hoping a certain someone would see.
You laugh to yourself, typing out a reply.
you liked it? well you’re too late. i’m in my pajamas now.
It was only 11:30 pm, so maybe it was a tad early for pajamas for some. But for all you know he was probably in sweats playing some game on his phone or reading a book.
Wonwoo: i don’t care, you always look pretty baby Wonwoo: come over here
He lived down the hall from you, with his roommate and best friend, Mingyu. His apartment was easy access, but pretty risky if Mingyu was there, so usually Wonwoo would just come over to yours.
You're about to ask is mingyu there? until he answers the question before you even finish typing.
Wonwoo: mingyu’s gone
You bite your lip, typing a reply. Fuck, you can’t say no.
on my way
You toss your phone on your bed, quite literally, quickly getting yourself ready, you decide to put on your favorite lavender-colored bra and matching panties underneath your pajamas you already had on. Your favorite color; and a different variation of his.
Going down the hall from your apartment, you reach his door, quickly knocking a few times before he answers.
“I thought you were joking when you said you were in pajamas,” Wonwoo jokes, examining you as you walk in. “You were serious.”
“Shut up, it was getting late.” You blush, as you damn near fight the urge to jump him, cause damn. He looks too good, even in a hoodie and sweatpants.
“You look cute,” He pulls you close to him, his fingers sliding underneath your shirt to grip your waist. “Can’t wait to take them off…”
You lean into him, fingers lightly threading through his hair that’s gotten so much longer recently.
“How much time do we have?”
“Hours.” Wonwoo responds, confident. “Mingyu said he was going out with Jungkook, they’ll probably be out half the night drinking.”
His hands slowly slide up your back, sending your heart thrumming in your chest, you’re unable to deny the effect he has on you.
You both know you’d eventually have to go public with your relationship, but for now, you’d just enjoy the adrenaline rush you get everytime you’re alone together.
You make it to his bedroom, in a heated kiss, you back away to safely removing his glasses and placing them on his nightstand.
Kneeling on his bed in front of him, you quickly tug at the hoodie he has on. “Off.” You order him, and he obeys, pulling it over his head.
He tosses to the floor, before kissing you again, his hands slide up your shirt, groping your breasts lightly through your bra, making you softly moan against his lips. He breaks the kiss and his lips softly trail along the corner of your lips, to your jaw, and onward.
You begin working on unbuttoning your silky pajama shirt as Wonwoo trails wet kisses down your neck. His hands take over, effortlessly unbuttoning it. Your eyes glance over to the mirror on the wall, giving you a full view of you kneeling on his bed and him towering over you.
He slips your shirt off your shoulders, and his eyes briefly follow your gaze, realizing what you’re looking at.
“Are you watching yourself in the mirror?” Wonwoo says into your ear, giving you chills.
“Uh-huh.” Your breath shaky as you reply, nodding.
“Turn around.” He suddenly demands, kissing behind your ear before you turn around, your back now facing him.
Wonwoo wraps one arm around your torso, holding you against his sturdy chest. His hand lightly touches your chin, turning you to face the mirror again.
“Keep watching yourself, baby.”
You watch as his free hand slips underneath your pajama shorts, his fingers lightly ghosting over your clothed clit. You gasp as your hips jolt, desperately seeking out more friction.
“Wonwoo…” You gasp, gripping his arm tighter.
His hand slides underneath the elastic of your underwear, applying firm pressure as he circles your clit, before you feel his fingers slide down between your folds and he mutters a breathy fuck against your neck when he feels how wet you are already.
“You’re already dripping for me, baby.” Wonwoo says deeply, voice slightly muffled into your neck. “Couldn’t wait to see me, could you?”
He’s expecting an answer, and it’s impossibly hard now that he’s sliding two fingers inside you, expertly curling his fingers to find that special spot that you often couldn’t reach yourself.
“N-no, I couldn’t… thought about you all day.” You cry, nails digging into his forearm, and he’s seemingly unfazed by it. His fingers pound into your sweet spot, making your head fall back against his shoulder.
“Fuck, look at how pretty you look.” Wonwoo says, glancing at your reflection, your brows furrowed as you focus on the feeling of his fingers inside you.
“I’m so close…” You whine, turning to bury your face in his neck as you inhale the sweet scent of his cologne like you never want to forget it.
“I know, baby. You’re fucking squeezing my fingers.” Wonwoo grunts as your walls clench around his fingers. “Let it go, I got you.”
Your legs shake as you grip onto his forearm for dear life, desperate for something to hold onto. A cry of his name leaves your lips as you cum, your heart racing, panting trying to catch your breath.
“That’s my girl.” Wonwoo turns to kiss your forehead gently, his fingers slip from your dripping center, brushing your clit one last time and the friction is enough to make you wince.
He releases his hold on you, and you turn around to face him, kissing him needily. “Fuck me,” You whisper against his lips. “I need you.”
“So needy…” Wonwoo playfully mocks you, suddenly turning into his unintentionally adorable self, as if he didn’t just pull a powerful orgasm out of you moments ago. “Don’t I at least get to enjoy this cute little set you wore for me?” He pulls off your shirt, even though it was already damn near falling off anyway.
You blush, kissing him again.
“We don’t have time for that.” You chuckle, already feeling somewhat anxious that Mingyu is going to walk into the apartment at any second.
Wonwoo can read you like a book, and he notices right away. “Hey, there’s no rush.” He says gently, as his hands reach behind you to unhook your bra.
You slide it off the rest of the way, then toss it on the floor. “I know, I’m just enjoying this. I don’t want to be interrupted.” You drape your arms over his shoulders as you press your body against him, kissing him fervently. You moan against his lips as you feel his hard cock pressing against you.
You slide your hands down his chest, reaching to loop your fingertips into the waistband of his sweatpants. “Take these off, baby.” You whisper as you kiss his along jaw a few times, before you grope his length through them for emphasis. “Please.”
Wonwoo gently nudges you to fall back on his bed, and you sit up on your elbows, eagerly watching him as he obeys you, taking them off. “Better?” His gaze meets yours as you look him over.
You eagerly nod, lifting your hips for him as he rids you of your pajama shorts you still had on, along with your soaking wet underwear.
“How do you want it, baby?” Wonwoo huskily asks you, removing his underwear. He curses under his breath as he watches you bend your knees and spread your legs apart, allowing him full access to you.
You gasp as you feel him suddenly pull you further down on his bed, quickly followed by a whine as you feel the weight of his cock on your clit. You sit up on your elbows to see him dragging his cock through your folds, coating himself in your wetness.
Both of you can only watch, breathing heavily.
“Wonwoo…” You whine his name, gripping the sheets beneath you as the tip of his cock bumps you clit again. You both watch as he lines himself up with your entrance, finally pushing inside you.
“Look at that.” Wonwoo grunts, watching you take every inch, feeling your walls stretch to accommodate him.
“Fuck…” You throw your head back, a soft moan falling from your lips as you feel so full. “You’re too big…”
“You take me so well…look at you.” Wonwoo praises you, as his hands come up to gently stroke your inner thighs, and it’s enough to get you to relax. “You okay?”
You nod, “Yeah, you can move. Please.”
He starts to pound into you at a steady pace, making you grab onto his shoulders for something to hold onto. Your nails dig into his skin as he drives his cock into your sweet spot over and over.
You let out a sob of a moan, and Wonwoo thinks it’s the prettiest sound he’s ever heard.
“God, you sound so pretty,” He moans, “Crying for me…”
“I’m not gonna last long.” You whine, your walls already clenching around him.
Your heart nearly stops in your chest when suddenly you hear the front door to the apartment open, then hear Mingyu enter.
You gasp, and Wonwoo quickly shushes you.
“Relax, he’s not going to come in here, he probably thinks I left.” He whispers, all the while he hasn’t stopped fucking you.
“Can you be quiet?”
You can barely find the words to speak, your brain too focused on the feeling of his cock inside you.
“Answer me.”
You frantically nod, and that’s about all you can muster the strength to do. Your walls clench around him and he knows you’re close.
“Shit, I’m gonna come…” You softly moan, as quiet as you can, then you feel his hand cover your mouth, muffling your cries as your walls squeeze his cock hard, but he keeps fucking you through your high.
He keeps going until he’s coming too, groaning into your neck as you feel his cock nearly throbbing as he releases inside of you.
“Fuck…” Wonwoo sighs, as you both are catching your breath. “That wasn’t how that was supposed to happen.” You both smile bashfully at each other.
You gently thread your fingers through his hair, pushing it back off his forehand.
“That’s okay, we can sneak over to my place… we won’t have to be quiet.”
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tags: @dearlyjun @cosmojinyoung
some others i couldn’t tag! 💔
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jarofstyles · 1 month
Text
Bad Idea, Right?
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Obviously inspired by Miss Olivia Rodrigo’s song, here is a one shot I loved writing :) a bit of angst, a bit of a fluff, a lot of smut, a little bit of everything!
Check out our Patreon for early access and 160+ exclusive writings!
WC- 6.2k
Warnings- toxic relationship, kinda asshole h, angst, crying, slight degradation, spitting, impact play (light), sex tape filming, daddy kink (light), use of Mama 🤭
—-
Y/N knew this was a very bad idea. She knew she was going to regret this in the morning, as she usually did when Harry texted her to show up somewhere, but here she was. 
Her best black dress in the most soft fabric, the one he had complimented her on endlessly before peeling it off when they had still been together, was glued to her body, Hair curled and falling down her shoulders. If she was going to show up at a houseparty that her ex boyfriend was throwing, she may as well go all out and wear something that she knew he liked. 
Internally, she tried to talk herself out of it as she approached the open door, ignoring the people making out on his lawn. The thump of the bass was audible outside, a deep sigh being let out as she tossed her phone in her clutch after texting him a simple ‘here.’ The shot she had taken before had done next to nothing to calm her nerves, her red lipstick meticulously touched up in the back of the uber as she squirmed in the seat surely getting fucked up as she bit down on her bottom lip, venturing into the home that used to be so familiar to her. 
It had been 5 months since they’d broken up, but it had barely seemed like it. Harry had a way of getting into her head and driving her absolutely fucking mad. Their back and forth seemed neverending, their text threads updating every few days. A fight, a makeup, a request to see one another. As much as she wanted to claim it was all him, she knew she was equally as bad. It wasn’t like she hadn’t tried to find someone else- but no one else could get her off like him.
Harry knew her body better than anyone else, every curve and mark, where to touch and stroke. Where to stroke, where to lick, where to bite. He was an expert on how to get her off in just minutes, her cunt completely dedicated to him as much as she wished it wasn’t. Her brain and pussy had no communication in the information regarding the fact they were broken up, much to her dismay. The only thing saving her ego was that she knew that she had the same effect on Harry. There was no way she didn’t. Harry could very well fuck anyone he wanted to, more than capable to pull. Y/N had been overly jealous as a girlfriend and she knew that, but people were drawn to her boyfriend despite the fact it was well known he was taken. While he didn’t seem to take them up on it- he ate up the attention and preened over it, much to her irritation. It caused fights upon fights, her going out of her way to make him jealous- which worked. They both seemed to get off on pissing each other off. 
Breaking up was supposed to stop the cycle, but it seemed to only string it out further.
There had been so many times she deleted his number but when he pulled up on her notifications again, she recognized the number and his attitude and couldn’t resist temptation. No one had ever made Y/N feel so many emotions in her life. Being around Harry was like a live wire, electric and hot, dangerous and potentially harmful, but the benefits sometimes outweighed the risks. 
Her nose crinkled as she felt the floor stick under her shoe, knowing he would be pissed about that tomorrow. Whatever spiked punch was all over the floor and that would take some elbow grease to get out. Navigating through the entryway, she made her way into the living room. It was dark, flimsy lighting had been put up to make colorful strobes go around the room, the room far too filled for comfort. It was stupidly warm, regret crawling up her neck as she looked around to find anyone familiar. 
“There she is!” The voice was unmistakable. Niall, arms tugging her in for a hug and pulling her into the kitchen where it was a bit quieter, the main group she was familiar with strung about along with a few strangers. “Harry’s girl is here, everyone! Y/N herself.” He chirped, making her give him a confused look until she followed his gaze to see Harry standing stiffly, a girl too close for comfort. Her eyes narrowed, taking in how the girl angled her body, hand resting on Harry’s arm, looking at her with a scowl. 
It was an ugly feeling to see someone else around her man. Well- he wasn’t her man, but it was another miscommunication between her heart and brain. She hated seeing him around someone else, the mere idea of him being with someone that wasn’t her made her stomach turn. It wasn’t right. Yes, she knew it was a toxic cycle but it was one she didn’t know how to break. She knew this was bad, but she didn’t want anyone else having him the way she did. 
The only saving grace was the fact that Harry looked uncomfortable, immediately peeling himself away from the other girl and coming straight over to Y/N.. Her face must have shown her irritation, mouth opening and arm resting on her hip as she went to give him a bit of hell but was cut off by his mouth. 
And Y/N’s body, she was a fucking traitor. Feeling his arms wrap around her and push her against the counter, his tongue pressing into her mouth and tasting the cinnamon from the alcohol and sticky remnants of Coca Cola on his lips made her brain go numb. She always did love how strong he was, how safe she used to feel wrapped up in his arms. There were a few wolf whistles surrounding them, but Y/N had been taken aback from the heat of it so early on, hand slipping between her and the counter to grab at her ass. A surprised moan left her mouth before Niall let out a laugh. 
“Alright, alright. Stop eating her, Harry.” Niall smacked his back, making Harry pull back with a hazy smirk. Almost dopy, making her blink up at him with her eyes narrowing again. His eyes were dark, lips wet now and that dark pink she liked so, so much. He hadn’t shaved today, leaving a bit of stubble around his face, a backwards hat combing his hair back to keep it out of his face. The nose piercing was swapped from a stud to a hoop, making her a bit surprised. Had he done that for her? He knew she liked it….
“You can take your hand off my ass now.” Her sassy tone didn’t match how her eyes looked, secretly loving that he had so publicly claimed her in front of a girl they both knew wanted him. It was a sick feeling, the victory even though she knew it was wrong to feel that way. It was a constant fight with herself. Knowing she should most definitely not be feeling so happy that her ex had just kissed her dumb in front of all his friends, but still liking that she had a claim on him. 
“I could.” He retorted. “But it feels so nice in my palm, and we both know how much you like it.” A squeeze was given, Y/N scowling back up at him but not making any attempt to move. If she wanted to, he would get out of the way- but they both knew how this went. She pretended she didn’t liked his hands on her, he taunted her, they would glare and play fight before it got a little real, and they’d fuck. A circle they’d swung around plenty of times. His lips lowered to her ear, ignoring the chatter around them. “You’re wearing my dress, hm?” 
“Yours? M’sorry, did you want to wear it?” She rose her eyebrow that she definitely hadn’t laid to perfection before she came here. “I forgot you even liked this one. It was the first thing I could reach in my closet.” Her nose was turned up, this time pushing past him to go over to the drinks. She looked down to see a cup with his name scribbled on it with a sharpie, lifting it up for confirmation before throwing it back.
Regretted immediately.
“Ugh- Harry, what the fuck?” She gagged, nose wrinkled as she opened his fridge to grab a bottle of water. “I forgot how disgusting your drinks are. God, how do you even have a stomach?” She gave him a horrified look, swishing the water in her mouth.’
“No one told you to fuckin’ take mine!” He grumbled, taking the cup to find it empty. “Fucks sake, Y/N. Taking my drink and then bitching about it. As usual.” He came up behind her to grab the bottle over the fridge, his ‘good stuff’ or whatever. It was already that time of night? 
Where they started poking at each other to cause a fight. To have an excuse to wander off and to strip down to nothing. 
“Excuse me?” Y/N grit her teeth, turning to look at him as he poured into his recently emptied cup. He was trying to get a rise out of her. 
“You heard me, princess. Know those ears work, considering you’re an eavesdropper.” 
Oh, he was going low. She crinkled the water bottle in her hands, shoulders tending as she exhaled sharply through her nose. “Well I wouldn’t have had to if you didn’t get so fucking weird with your phone. You were the one hiding a ‘project partner’ from me.” Her fingers did air quotes around that, showing that she didn’t believe his excuse. 
“Oh, for fucks sake.” Harry hissed, his own jaw setting. “I told you that she was just a partner for my paper. I didn’t tell you at first because I know you’d overreact and go all insane on me for daring to interact with another woman.” He snarled back, knowing where to hit where it hurt. 
“I wouldn’t have had to be paranoid if you’d respected me to stop flirting and entertaining girls who disrespected our relationship by hitting on you in front of me! You literally encouraged it!” She was trying to keep her voice down, but it was hard. This was an especially sore spot. 
“So replying with a thank you is encouraging it? Sue me for liking that someone complimented me on something!” He raised an arm up, running fingers through his hair in frustration before he turned away to lean on the counter with his arms crossed, cup in hand. “God, you do this every fucking time. We aren’t fucking together anymore, that’s your fault. Why do you continue to harrass me about this? Even if I did encourage it, I never went for it did I?” A cruel smirk emerged. “Though I’m a free agent now, yeah? Could go take Josslyn or Heather up on their offers?
Harry knew he had taken it a bit too far when her breathing caught for real, watching as he froze and her bottom lip trembled. That wasn’t a part of their regular script to wind each other up before hot sex. It was a bit of the real hurt that has blossomed through, but he hadn’t meant to let it out. Her eyes turned glassy, her hand snatching his drink and throwing it at his shirt. 
“Fuck you.” 
Harry felt the cold liquid hit him, hissing as he stood in slight shock as he watched her turn to leave. He had really fucked up. His stomach dropped as he tried to gather his bearings, cursing under his breath before going after her. 
“Y/N! Fuck, don’t go.” He yelled after her, making his way through the throngs of people in his living room, eyes watching her back go towards the door. While he had definitely said fucked up things before, this had been designed to hit where it really hurt. 
Y/N stomped through the living room, ignoring his calls for her as she got closer to the door- closer to escape- when she was caught. Arms wrapping around her waist as he pulled her into the bathroom next to the stairs and turning so he was against the door. Y/N kept her back towards him but yanked herself free from his grip, irritated that she was crying. That it still hurts. He knew it would and that’s partially what made it worse. He had been out to hurt her and she had known it was a bad idea to show up tonight but somewhere in her heart she had this tiny, tiny hidden hope that maybe tonight would be a night they could finally get over their differences. She missed him so much it ached if she allowed herself to feel it, but she had tried to refuse her feelings. 
It had boiled over now, though.
Harry swallowed thickly as he heard the sniffle. Y/N wasn’t one to cry about a lot. She hadn’t shed a lot of tears in the time they’d been together, emotionally iron clad as it seemed. When she did? It was unnerving. Heartbreaking. It was one of his least favorite things ever, seeing her crumble. While he may have enjoyed getting her angry and irritated, maybe a little jealous, he never liked hurting her. He gained no pleasure from that. 
“Baby…” He spoke softly, trying to turn her around, hands pulling at her shoulders. He was bigger than her and could definitely turn her around if he wanted to, but he wouldn’t ever touch her in a way she didn’t want. 
“No. You can’t- you can’t call me that anymore. I am not your baby.” She hissed, keeping herself turned from him. Harry winced. She hadn’t said that before, not seriously, but the venom in her voice had shown how upset she was. It was laced with the hoarse blanket that coated her voice when she cried, making it even worse. “You can go call Josslyn or Heather. I’m sure they’d love to be your b-baby.” The end of the sentence was joined with a little sob, effectively breaking his heart further. 
“No. No, I’m not… I didn’t mean it, Y/N. I promise. I was just upset and I didn’t mean for it to come out, I just wanted you to feel-”
“What?” Whipping around, Y/N’s mascara streaked cheeks were a blow to the chest. Her vulnerability was something he used to crave, to be the one she confided in or let herself break with. He wanted to be there for her. Not be the cause of her tears. “You wanted me to feel hurt, like you did? Do you not think I don’t hurt every fucking day?” 
“You broke up with me!” Harry tried, her glare making him stop talking quickly after. 
“I broke up with you because you didn’t take me seriously. How could you go from telling me you can’t wait to put a ring on my finger, can’t wait to have a family with me, to flirting with girls the same night? Do you know how humiliating it is to have your friends tell you that they heard so and so say they were going to try something because it ‘obviously isn’t serious with Y/N?” The incredulous look on her face made him shrink back a bit. 
“I didn’t know that! It was never real flirting, Y/N. I liked to get my ego stroked, the attention felt nice, but I would never, ever step out on you. I love you, for fucks sake!” He went to reach for her but she backed up, flinching slightly. Another dagger to the chest. He had really, really fucked up. She never denied his touch.
“You love me?” A humorless laugh escaped her swollen lips. “Is that how you love people, Harry? Make them feel disposable and humiliated because you can’t be happy with one girl telling you that she loves you back? My compliments weren’t enough?” Arms crossed defensively over her chest. “Give me a fucking break. Telling me that as if you didn’t just say moments ago that you should take up girls who actively disrespected our relationship on their offers to fuck you while you were dating me? Yeah, that’s definitely something someone who loved me would do.” She wanted to stay angry but she was hurt. Hurt so bad, the full weight of their breakup actually hitting her as she felt the sob crawl up her throat and hurried to cover her eyes as she began to cry. It couldn’t be held back. She was at her breaking point.
Harry wanted to throw up. He hadn’t thought of it that way, and honestly? He had never expected this. Sometimes Y/N had acted as if she didn’t have a lot of emotion, reserved and a bit quiet when she expressed herself. The one time he had gotten her to let go was during sex, where he truly felt her desire. That was maybe why he liked the attention from other people. She wasn’t very forthcoming with praise or overly lovey with him, and it had hurt a little. But he could deal with that later, because his poor fucking girl was sobbing in front of him.
“No, no… sweet girl. Please.” He watched as she dropped down to sit on the floor, gathering her knees to her chest as he followed after her. “Hey- M’so sorry. I didn’t think about it like that. I really didn’t. I was just talking out of my ass because I was hurt we’re still broken up a-and I shouldn’t have said anything but….” He sat down fully next to her, pulling her body on to his lap. She tried to squirm at first but he could tell it was half hearted as she settled down a moment later, the sobs wracking her body as his arms wrapped around her and his lips went to her ear. 
“M’so sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t ever want to make you feel that way. You’ve always been so important to me and this is breaking my heart.” He whispered. “Hate that you’re crying because of me. I hate that I ever made you doubt that you were important to me, or that I respect you. I do. I promise you, I do.” He whimpered slightly, desperate to get her to believe him. “I’m an ass, I know. But you have to know I do, I love you so much. I’m so fucking sorry for throwing that in your face.” 
In the grand scheme of things, he knew that some people would think she was overreacting- but he understood now. He hadn’t truly meant to take it that far, hadn’t even stopped to think that those exact women had been sources of insecurity. They were the first to pop into his head because he had rejected them again tonight, waiting for Y/N to arrive. 
He never wanted to be broken up with. He had planned on being with her forever, and he had fucked it up. 
Her cries started to fade, sniffles taking the place of sobs as he whispered soft words, consoling her. He knew he’d fucked up tonight, in their relationship. He hadn’t communicated the way he needed to and he played games, but he thought that it would get a different reaction. His intentions weren’t to hurt her. Selfishly, stupidly, he assumed it hadn’t phased her. That she was just angry and not upset. 
If she’d give him another chance he’d fix it. He’d make sure to open her up a little more, make her feel more safe. Reign in his flirting, make sure he was just polite instead. He’d never put their relationship in jeopardy again. “C’mon. Come with me, to my room.” Standing up, he pulled her along with her. It said a lot about her right now that she wasn’t fighting, letting him lead her to his room with her hand tucked in his own. Her face was downcast, making sure no one could see that she’d cried as Harry took the key from his pocket and undid the lock. He really didn’t want strangers in his room.
It was still the same. His navy bedspread and Nirvana posters on the side of his wall, his desk slightly messy with a leftover fast food cup sitting next to his water bottle on his night stand. He’s gotten it for her, because she got thirsty in the middle of the night. 
What really got her attention was the framed photo of them that was right next to it. Her soft smile and his wide one, teeth out as he held her in his lap. His flannel was around her and his hat was backwards as he snuggled her. It had been cool that night but there was a bonfire, not enough seats and a handsy Harry ready to make his lap her throne. Her throat tightened as she looked at the photo, dropping his hand and wrapping her arms around her body to self soothe before she walked up to it. 
“Why do you still have this up?” Her voice was shaky still, looking down at the happy memory. 
“Because I still love you. I told you.” Hands were placed on her hips as she was brought into him, hugging her from behind as he unwrapped her arms and threaded their fingers together. “I know I’ve been shit. I’ve been… impatient, an attention whore, all of the insults you’ve said. But I love you. I have since day one. I’d have never cheated on you, regardless of what you may believe.” The idea of it made him feel ill. 
“Then why?” Her wavering voice made him frown. “Why did you keep flirting with people in my face? I know you said it was cause I wasn’t giving you enough compliments but I didn’t know you thought that.” His heart nearly snapped in two when her voice broke. “I thought the world of you. I was so proud to be with you and then… I thought you just didn’t like me anymore. I know…” A deep inhale was felt as her tummy lifted both of their arms. “I know I can be a little cold or quiet, but I had no idea you felt neglected. I pulled back because you kept talking to other girls how you used to talk to me and… I didn’t feel like it was okay to.”
It made him feel worse. Hearing this now. Y/N had broken up with him and he’d been hurt, his pride making him sneer at her and the nastiness was even more uncalled for now that he knew. Y/N wasn’t a bitch, she wasn’t unfeeling- she didn’t feel safe. He’d done that to her because he was the little bitch here, not giving her the safety she needed in order to open up. While they should’ve been continuing growing, he got his feelings hurt and made it impossible for her to feel like she could give those things to him. 
“I’m sorry.” His voice was weak. “I’m sorry. I’ll keep saying it. I didn’t mean it. I promise, nothing I've said is true. I wanted to wind you up, I wanted to fuck you because it was the only way you’d get close to me again. I never intended on making you feel unsafe with me, fuck. That’s the last thing I ever wanted. Makes me feel sick to hear that.” He nuzzled against her neck, placing a kiss there before pulling away, unwrapping them and sitting on the edge of his bed. Y/N wasn’t fighting him, so he gently tugged her to sit on his lap, this time facing him. “There she is.” A sad smile lifted his lips, thumb wiping away the streaks of mascara that had flaked off with her tears. “Still so pretty when you cry, even if it breaks m’heart.” 
It was worse than a kicked puppy. Y/N wasn’t a huge emoter so knowing that he’d done this had made him wonder what she did alone. How many other times he’d made her cry but she wasn’t solid enough around him to do it in front of him. 
“You broke mine.” She whispered, looking down at his shirt. “I don’t mean to be a bitch. I was just scared.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Let me fix it. Please?” Holding her face in his hands, he got her eyes back on his. “Let me make it better. I won’t do any of that ever again, I’ll communicate better… Just let me make your heart feel safe again.”
Y/N knew she was a sucker for this. She shouldn’t say yes. Every part of her except her brain was screaming to stay, though. While her head was telling her to run away as fast as she could, her heart thudded in her chest and her body wanted closer to his own. It was a decision she may come to regret, maybe she’d hate herself for it, but she couldn’t let go. “O-Okay.” She whispered, feeling his head fall against hers. “Please don’t break my heart again, H. I can’t do that again.” 
“I’d rather die.” 
His lips were pressed against hers, and moved quickly from there. 
One of the things that never lacked with them as a couple was sexual chemsitry. It’s what had them so obsessed with each other at first. The best way to get Y/N to express herself was when she was full of cock or close to the edge of orgasm, which was why Harry had no problem saying his apologies between her legs. 
“M’sorry, baby.” He crooned, licking over her drippy slit. “So, so sorry. M’gonna take care of you.” Lips pressed kisses to her clit, a keening whine leaving her lips as fingers clutched his hair and brought him closer to her. His mouth had always been his greatest gift and biggest curse. Somehow he knew all the right things to say, all the right things to do to pleasure her but always stuck his goddamn foot in his mouth. He was going to change that now. 
Dark green gazed into hers as he took another broad lick, the tip of his nose brushing over her clit. Large hands with chipped polish wrapped around her thighs and kept them spread, his hair a mess from her hands carding through it with their hot makeout and now his time spent working on her pussy. This was undoubtable a perk of being with the man, knowing how much he genuinely loved to eat pussy. He’d spend hours licking and sucking on her, making her sensitive and cum over and over again whenever he had the chance. For his birthday he’d genuinely wanted a day inside with her where he spent the majority of his morning eating her for breakfast, her thighs his perfect earmuffs from the snow that happened to fall on the day. 
Whenever they spent time apart he missed this desperately. He’d not even tried to find someone to replace this because he knew the feeling wouldn’t ever be the same. Sure, he’d loved eating pussy before Y/N but it had turned into a full on obsession with her. No one had ever tasted as good, made as many cute noises, squealed when his mouth latched on her clit and his finger curled just right- like he was doing now, holding her bucking hips down. 
“Oh, I know, Mama, I know.” He cooed against her. “Feels so fucking good, doesn’t it? Needed my mouth on this greedy fucking pussy…” Pursing his lips, he spit over her slit and watched it drip with a hiss before usng his tongue to spread it, digits dripping down to his wrist before his tongue trilled over the swollen bud. It didn’t take much to push her over, but a well timed smack against her thigh to get her to stop squirming had done the job. A wet gasp tore from her mouth as she squeale his name, simultaneously pulling his mouth against her and trying to push him away. Using his strength against her, he made sure to lick up a bit before spitting again, leaving her pussy wet and messy as he climbed up her body and kissed her hard. 
His chin was wet and she knew he was a fucking mess but her tongue delved into his mouth, tasting herself on him. She could hear the tug down of his zipper, felt him moving and wiggling his pants down but she was too busy sucking on his tongue and reveling in his moans against her to think twice before she felt the tip of his cock smack against her cunt. 
“I’m clean, baby. No one but you, never need anyone but you.” His grip on her chin was tight as he rutted himself against her cunt. “Even when you were being a miserable bitch t’me, all I wanted to do was love on you. M’gonna make sure you never fucking doubt how much you own me again. This is the only cunt I need.” 
There was sick satisfaction that rolled through him as he slid into her and felt the stretch, watching her mouth fall open as she was filled. It only confirmed what he had hoped- she hadn’t been fucking around much, if at all. Granted, he was thick and long and it would be hard to beat him, but he knew what she felt like when she was well fucked. “Oh, look at that…” He whispered, angling her head down to look at where her pussy lips clung to his cock as he pulled out a bit. “She missed me, didn’t she, baby? Sweet pussy missed my cock so fucking much, doesn’t want me to pull away.” 
Harry was by far the filthiest man she’d ever experienced but that’s part of the appeal. He may be a bit of an asshole, but god, he knew how to fuck. How to kiss. How to make her feel special when he wasn’t being a dickhead. Moments like this always wiped that shit clean, the slate cleared and her head foggy as all she could focus on was how right he was. “Yeah- yeah, don’t take it from me again.” She growled, digging her nails into his skin. “Don’t fucking take my cock from me again, don’t make me walk away. This is mine.” 
Harry hissed, loving the sting on his skin and how she spoke. Y/N could be a fierce little bitch and he loved that about her. She hadn’t been pleased tonight and he’d taken it too far, but she was going to have no doubt how much he had been missing her. Their hate sex had been good, but their makeup sex was even better. “Never, Mama. Never, it’s all yours. You’re right.” His voice soothed, pushing back into her and reveling in how hot she was. Tight. Everything he could possibly need. “It’s yours always, and I don’t want anyone else. Jus’ want you to let me love on you, make you feel good. Be my girl again. He had everything else he wanted, but Y/N was the missing link. He’d fucked up with her, but he wouldn’t do it again. Not when this was how explosive it was between them. 
“You better fucking treat me right.” Her hand held his face now. “Better be so nice to me, buy me f-flowers and hold my hand… Fuck me good, make sure all the other b-bitches know that you’re taken.” Her legs wound around him and he felt a heel surely to bruise his ass, but he didn’t care. “Don’t let them think you’re available because you’re an attention whore.”
Harry moaned at the degrading words, because they were true. He was indeed an attention whore and he’d never deny it. “Only for you, baby. Want all your fucking attention… fuck.” He hissed, thrusting slower as he looked at where they joined. “Creaming on my cock already, really must have missed me.” Noses brushed before he fucked harder into her, trying to bring her to the edge. “Fingers didn’t cut it, did they? No toy can make you feel as good as his. Know that you needed Daddy t’fuck you right.” 
Y/N let out a wail as he tugged her hips up, his face leaving hers to sit on his knees while he fucked her. He was getting the spot she needed, saying the words she wanted and she felt hot all over. Syrupy, sticky hot as she dripped down her ass as the sound of their sex filled his room. The music muffled behind the door didn’t matter, all she wanted to hear was his dirty talk and the sound of their skin. “Yes, I needed it Daddy- Fuck me, fuck me right. You always make me cum over and over…” her head rolled back on the mattress as her fingers found his wrists, grounding herself as he fucked her steady and hard. 
His eyes took in the view of bouncing tits and a messy cock pistoning in and out of her creamy cunt, breathing heavy while he felt her tighten up on him. His goal was always to make sure she came over and over, a generous lover being one of his positive attributes. “Mhm… It’s never changed, Mama. M’gonna give it to you just like that. God, you look so fucking pretty on my dick, baby. Need to capture it.” He adjusted slightly as he took his phone out, thankful his pants had only been down a few inches as he pressed record. A breathy laugh left him as he fucked into her willing body, aiming the camera down at her face. “Say hi to the camera, pretty girl.” He crooned. 
“H-Hi Daddy.” She mewled, preening under the attention. It was a guilty pleasure of hers, knowing he had the filthy images and videos on his phone. It was even better to watch it back and see just how wrecked she got from him. “You’re gonna be nice to me so you- so you don’t have to delete these, right?” He’d had to delete all the videos when they broke up, but she hoped this time they’d get to stick around forever. 
“Of course, my sweet girl. Never gonna fuck this up again… Not when we look so fucking good together. Feel so fucking good together…. Fuck, look at that…” He got a close up of her cunt as it stretched to fit him, clinging to his length. “You’re gonna cum, I can feel it.” His eyes met hers as he started to get her to the edge, her face glistening and eyes hazy. “Go on, baby. Do it. Cum on my cock, make a fucking mess.” 
Harry could feel it as she did, the high pitched whine of his name and the bite of her nails as she writhed on his cock, the camera capturing her face as she did so. Mouth open and eyes rolled back, the blissed out smile following as he fucked her through it. He didn’t stop, tossing the phone to the side as he kissed her again as his cock pulsed, trying to hold back his own orgasm. “Mmm… fuck. I love when you cum on me. So gorgeous, all mine.” He rubbed their noses together again while humping into her, her impossibly hot cunt clinging to him as he peppered kisses to her face. “But I’m not done with you yet.” 
“No?” She grinned, feeling drunk. “Should have known, you sex maniac- fuck.” She pushed his hand away from her cunt. “Give a girl a minute, fucks sake.” 
“Just got you back, can you blame me?” He smiled against her mouth, sucking her lower lip into his mouth and grazing it with his teeth. He wanted her to look freshly fucked and glowing tomorrow when she had to meet up with her friends for brunch, sure to piss them off with the news that they’re back together. “Mean it, I’m not letting you go this time. Never again.” His smirk got bigger. “Pussy’s too fucking good.” 
“Shut up, slut.” She pushed his face away playfully. You’ve got more than one orgasm to go until I think about taking you back. Prove your worth to me.” His cock could be felt twitching inside her yet again. 
“Whatever you say, Mama.” He cooed, pulling out of her regretfully. “Now, get on your knees. I’ve got to say sorry to your pretty ass.”
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youryanderedaddy · 4 months
Text
War Prize
pt. 1, pt. 2
Tw: female reader, dub-con, somnophilia, stockholm syndrome, possessive behavior, hinted kidnapping, threats, commissioned piece
It had been so long since Raven captured you - five or six years in total, although you couldn't be quite sure of the exact amount as you had no access to books, calenders or even ink to write with.
Nowadays it was mostly calm around the occupied territories - almost domestic in a sense. You let yourself be pampered more often than not - you drunk the silky, bitter coffee Raven's slaves left out for you, and bathed in the sweet oils he picked for you. Long gone were the days when you fought him over the slightest injustice, long gone were the days when you stopped to think about every miserable soul who had to suffer so you could live in luxury. 
It was easier this way really. The barbarian was good to you, even if it wasn't in his nature initially. The hands that once bruised and hit and wrapped around your hair were now caressing your skin softly, the lips once sealed tight with furrowed hairy brows were leaving hot, wet kisses down your throat, feverish to the touch. You could wear the finest furs and dresses, your body covered in stolen gold and plundered diamonds from head to toe. Raven had made it clear - he loved you, and that meant that the whole world belonged to you the way you belonged to him.
Your life was simple, you had one purpose now - to please your master. You didn't have to work long hours on the field or take care of  a big, starving family ever again. All you had to do was spread your legs at any given moment, and stay soft and pliant in his rough, muscular hands. 
***
You'd usually wake up early in the morning from the slow, deep thrusts inside your hot wet cunt - stars dancing in your eyes as his length brushes against your cervix, filling you up to the brim. Your wrists are pinned above your head with little opportunity for movement, keeping you tightly into place. 
Raven starts slowly and keeps turning up the pace until he is practically shoving himself sloppily against your overflowing hole, his nails digging into the meat of your thighs so he can have more leverage over your quivering body.
“I love to see you fall apart beneath me.” He'd growl in your ear, his forehead resting against yours as his nostrils flare - eyes filled with sick, animalistic need to possess you fully. You moan, closing your eyes - too overwhelmed with pleasure to form a proper response. “Ah, ah, ah - no hiding from me. Let me see you, pretty girl.” Raven hisses, spreading your legs even wider, bouncing your hips up and down on his throbbing cock. 
Your lower lip trembles, desperate to stop another wave of wanton moans - but to no avail. Your sweet voice fills the tent, echoing beyond the thick walls.
“Look at you, all cute and teary for me. Aren't you just precious, slave?” The barbarian chuckles condescendingly, all while groping and slapping your ass lightly - playing with the hot doughy skin. “I want everyone to hear you.” His gaze darkens as his fist wraps around your neck possessively. “I want every single one of my men to hear you sing for me. I want their robes to strain with greed and jealousy with the knowledge that they'll never have my most prized possession.” 
You inhale sharply, lost in a cloudy headspace of dreams and red - hot pleasure. You feel your master's hand squeeze your throat tighter, and your pussy flutters around his length, slick running down your thighs and towards your asshole. It doesn't make sense - he is using you for his own satisfaction with little care for your personal comfort, but his touch makes you feel so warm and floaty, fuzzy butterflies tearing at your stomach - proud to belong to such a strong, powerful man. 
“I want you completely broken. I want to fill you up with my love and ruin you for any other man out there.” He'd groan, sinking his teeth into your neck and aiming for your sweet, sweet blood. “I want everyone to know that I tamed your pretty little brain and made you all mine, now and forever.” Raven kisses you, stealing the breath out of your mouth, sucking in all the panicked little sounds coming out of it. “Say it.” He orders, both threatening and desperate like a lovesick child. 
You can't stand it anymore - you throw your arms around his shoulders. You need to feel him against you, skin on skin. “I'm yours, all yours.” You cry out, holding on for dear life. There is no point denying it now - you can't imagine life without your master, no matter how cruel or difficult he may be. Who else would warm your bed? Who would give you purpose? Where else could you even go now that he has claimed you - and everybody knows?
“Say you love me.” His voice breaks, hands shivering as he holds you painfully close to him - as if the moment he lets go, he'd wake up and you'd be gone just like before. “Say you love me like I love you. Say you'll never leave me - or I swear to the Gods I'll chain you up here to never see the sun again.” He blubbers on and on, thrusts getting fast and frantic, pushing in and out of you with the ferocity of a lover and the fear of a man possessed. 
“I love you.” You whisper, laying back like a good little doll - letting yourself move and twist just the way he wants you to. He pulls you up into a standing position and all but swallows your sobs and wails, his tongue fighting yours for dominance. He lowly commands you to keep repeating it over and over again - until he gets sick of it (if ever), and paints your velvet walls all white and sticky with his seed. 
You take a couple of short shallow breaths, trying to resume your normal breathing. His hand rests on your neck - his eyes finally lose the furious, jealous spark, and he reaches out to stroke your hair gently.
“Good girl.”
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urhoneycombwitch · 5 months
Text
I know what they call you.
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🍯 honey flavour: You’re a little lost in your head. Eddie wants to find you.
🐝 the bees: Eddie x shy!Reader, best friends Steve + Robin
wc: 11k 
cw: alcohol/weed used as a social crutch, R is hassled by a guy at a party (but her boys back her up), brief vomit mention, implied bad home life for R, light SH by way of tight grip, PTSD, R has breasts+V, praise kink, oral (R receiving), one (1) spank, multiple orgasms (R), soft dom!eddie, overstim, coming in pants (E)
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foreword: The healing properties of good head <333 Anyways I labeled this R “shy” but she’s more… introverted? Reserved? this one goes out to the weird and off-putting girlies who have a lot to say but are kinda quiet instead. Timeline may be a bit wibbly but designed it to be early 4th-season era, with R (early 20s) having played an undetermined part in the various Upside Down battles from seasons previous.
Loosely based on this anon every1 say thank you anon!
___
It’s spring break, 1986, and you’re cursing the name of your so-called “best friend” Robin Buckley.
You didn’t even want to go to this stupid kegger in the first place, arguing with her the whole ride over from Steve’s backseat.
“Don’t you think it’s totally lame that you’re basically being chaperoned by two gap-year losers?” you’d said, leaning forward to rest your elbows on the console, seatbelt pulling taut across your Rolling Stones tee. “You’re a big girl, Robin, you don’t need Steve and me to babysit you anymore.”
Robin began protesting but Steve interrupted, tapping at your forearms without looking away from the road- “Sit back, wouldja, that’s not safe. And for the record, it’d only be lame if we were, like, thirty and still going to high school kickbacks. Gap-year drinking parties are a rite of passage.”
You’d sat back against your seat with a huff, arms crossed, unconvinced until Robin turned those big pleading eyes your way over the back of her seat. “You wanna talk about lame? Lame is me getting anywhere within a 60-foot radius of Vickie. I am totally hopeless around that absolute beauty.”
She’d twisted in her seat and reached for your hand, and you gave it to her grudgingly (the two of you ignoring another of Steve’s gripe about vehicular safety) as she said, “You’re like, the best wingwoman I’ve ever met. Please come to the party and help me avoid the natural disaster that is me running my mouth.”
Robin wasn’t just being generous- you were a killer third wheel. Especially when alcohol was involved: the walls that you naturally upheld around your introverted demeanor by day turned liquid as whiskey by night, often scoring you major cool points with your friends for things you barely remembered doing the day after. 
So you’d relented, and in turn resolved to get as drunk as possible as quickly as possible (in the name of Robin’s aid, of course), but turns out your best friend didn’t even need your help in the first place; within 5 minutes of setting foot in the crammed house party Robin won a spot right next to Vickie on the living room couch, starry-eyed gaze saved only for the redhead that bore no room for your intervention.
Three shots ago, the situation would have struck you as funny, but it’s been a lonely time (what with Steve abandoning you, too, in favor of chatting up some college blonde); drifting from packed room to packed room, sneakers sticking to the floorboards, winding through throngs of sweaty dancing students just to keep on top of your alcohol consumption.
Kind of like hunting in the wild, you muse, leaned against a wall with red solo cup in hand. Flirt with Amy Thacker and her low-cut blouse to access the watering hole (Mystery Punch, green both in color and flavor); let Lenny Baker put his paws on your waist to gain entry to the standing liquor cabinet. The stuff of nature docs.
If this dimly-lit Hawkins party is the savanna, then you are the antelope- grazing on snacks, never staying in one spot for too long, minding your own business and staying way the hell away from the lion’s den (the group of jocks in Hawkins Tigers polos).
Unfortunately, you push off the wall in search of a refill at the same time Lenny Baker decides to sidle up to you, nearly knocking the cup from your grasp when he bends his thick head to shout in your ear above the music. 
“Great party, right?” His arms are crossed above his tank of a chest, blocking you from a smooth exit via the kitchen archway.
“If you’re into drunk teens, I guess,” you say back, pointedly, licking a stripe up your wrist from where the punch had sloshed onto your bare arm. 
When you look back up Lenny’s still standing there, watching you with a hungry edge that’s starting to make your well-honed antelope-sense tingle. As you not-so-subtly cast your glance around for Steve, Lenny leans in again, close enough to give you a sour whiff of his breath. “I’m legal, if that’s what’s got your panties in a twist. And what’s wrong with having some fun?”
“I’m not into having fun with douchebags who ‘roid away their remaining brain cells to bully my friends,” you retort, flatly. You doubt this guy knows you’re connected to the Hellfire group (de facto sitter, second only to Steve), but the insult seems to land anyways. 
Lenny scoffs, going for a low blow to offset the sting of his bruised ego- “If you’re trying to play the part of slut, you were doing a way better job earlier.”
What the meathead hasn’t picked up on yet is your absolute lack of care about him- or anyone else at this stupid fucking party, for that matter. Besides Robin and Steve, obviously, but they’re equally indisposed at the moment. You’re feeling bold enough that you could play dirty: throw the dregs of your drink in his face, make a real scene- but the shots from earlier are hitting you sideways and you’re not entirely confident in your ability to multitask. 
So instead, with a wink, you tell him, “At least this slut knows when to quit,” and turn on your heel, abandoning the kitchen escape route for a closer door that leads to the back porch.
You suck in lungfuls of cool night air, trying to clear the fuzz of booze from your vision. When you don’t hear any angry footsteps following in your wake, you sink against the wooden bannister and tip back the last of your drink in one swallow. Maybe Steve doubled back to the car…?
With your empty cup left neatly on the railing, you set off down the couple of steps that separate you from the grass, except the toe of your shoe catches on a hidden groove in the wood, and nothing is within reach to grab onto as you trip and begin to fall.
The stumble should have ended with you facedown in the dirt, but something- someone- solid breaks your downward path, catching the upper half of your body in a sturdy hold even as your legs twist around themselves.
“Whoa, whoa, hey, I gotcha. You okay?”
The voice is instantly familiar, one that you’ve heard ringing out from underneath the drama room door on countless occasions as you’ve waited on your various child wards to wrap up their D&D sessions.
Eddie Munson is holding you in his leather-clad arms, larger than life with that big cloud of hair and doe-eyed gaze matching yours. He helps you stand, properly, dropping his hands once you’re stabilized and taking the warmth of his palms with him. 
“You okay?” he asks again, tilting his head, looking at you with fresh concern from under that mop of bangs. “Looks like you had a lot to drink.”
“Thanks, Dad,” you drawl, bravado flooding back in. “Am I really gonna get a fucking lecture on drinking from my local drug dealer?”
Instead of rising to the bait or bristling at your tone, Eddie grins- delighted, wolfish- before letting out a low whistle. “Who coulda guessed: resident Shy Girl has a mouth on her.”
You twist said mouth into your own smile, one that you hope is coy and charming and not dorkily lopsided (because you stopped being able to feel your face after that last drink), and coo, “You thinkin’ about my mouth, Munson?”
He laughs- a full, vibrant sound that lights up the night. There’s a flutter in your ribcage, knocking up a frenzy at the noise, like it wants to get out and at him, but you tamp it down and play it cool.
“You’ve only seen me in the cold, unforgiving light of day,” you continue, as Eddie rifles through his pockets, surfacing with a pack of cigs, eye contact yet to be broken. “My nighttime alter ego is a real riot, all liquored up.”
“Well, I happen to think you’re a riot in the sober light of day, too.” Eddie shrugs a shoulder as he flips the lid of the cigarette box.
You’re unsure if he’s messing with you- he’s gotta be, right? The only meaningful interaction you two have had in the past handful of years has been through the courtesy of the children in your respective care- a few surface-level conversations during carpool pickup, some flirting on his end that you’ve always been too skittish to return. 
Well, until now, you guess. Maybe this is a good thing, him seeing you like this- it’ll either scare him away, or you’ll finally make good on the quiet crush you’ve been harboring.
You’re about to speak again when the porch door opens with a bang; you and Eddie swivel at the same time to see Lenny clomping noisily towards the steps, voice booming out over the thrum of bass back inside- “This freak bothering you?”
You look between the metalhead and the jock, eyes wide and mocking as you call back, “No, but you’re starting to!”
“Jesus, talk about poking the bear,” you hear Eddie mutter behind you, but your focus is taken up by the fact that Lenny is tromping down the steps and reaching out to grab your upper arm, his cold and clammy palm taking up a sizeable amount of space.
You can feel that rage, simmering and easily accessed, start to crawl over your skin. You stand your ground in the face of someone much larger than you, sneakers planted firmly, chin tilted in defiance- I’ve killed monsters in alternate dimensions, asswipe. You might’ve scared me back in high school but now I dare you to fuck with me. 
Before Eddie can jump to your defense, you’re already going in for the bite, voice dripping with derisiveness. “So glad your right hand found its way off your dick for a change, Len. How about you do me one better and take it far, far away from here?”
Lenny’s face is almost purple with anger as his grip tightens, and you feel Eddie moving in at your back- to do what exactly, hard to say, ‘cuz Lenny’s got about 60 pounds on the lanky DM- but just as fast as the tension has ramped up, it gets diffused with the arrival of one Steve Harrington from around the corner of the house.
He cuts a smooth path through the grass to your other side, Robin’s sweater slung over one arm, twirling his car keys in neat loops around his finger, boasting a casual demeanor that doesn’t match up with the steely look he’s giving Lenny. “You heard the girl, Baker. Time to am-scray.”
Whether it’s the rumors of Steve’s nail bat or the manic look in your eyes or the fact that he’s outnumbered, Lenny’s got plenty of reason now to drop your arm. 
Which he does, spitting one last “bitch” at you before hulking off into the night.
The anger in you recedes like a wave. You breathe out a dry laugh, then turn back to the boys, clasping your hands over your heart with faux-dopeyness. “My heroes. How will I ever repay you?”
“Shutting up, for a change, would be a great start,” Steve grouses over the sound of Eddie’s cackles.
“Holy shit. Can’t believe your girl’s feistiness almost landed me in the hospital.” Eddie shakes his head, plucking a cigarette out and sticking it between his plush lips.
“She’s not my girl,” Steve says, even as you wind your arms around his chest from behind, tucking your chin over his shoulder. “She is, unfortunately, my problem.”
“I love when you two talk about me like I’m not here.” You simper at Eddie from your draped position.
He’s watching you with a fondness that feels overly familiar, through the haze of smoke streaming from his nostrils as you pat the chest beneath your hands- “Don’t worry about ol’ Stevie boy. He’s turned into quite the good guard dog after the whole Russian mall takeover last year.”
“Aaaaand that’s enough talking from you,” Steve says firmly, twisting out of your arms and putting his own around your waist. “Say goodbye to your new buddy, we’ve got a Robin to collect.”
As Steve steers you towards the direction of his car you wave at Eddie, a motion that he returns, his rings glinting in the porch light.
“Christ, you really are somethin’ else with some drinks in you,'' Steve fusses, helping you into the backseat, hand shooting up to block the door frame before your head can collide with the metal. “Did you seriously have to bring up the Russians?”
“He probably thought it was a joke, Steve,” you say, exasperated and fighting the twisted middle seatbelt with uncoordinated hands. “You know… those things that you tell people when you wanna get in their pants?”
The crack was aimed at Steve’s recent string of strike-outs in the dating department, but he throws it back at you. “You’re trying to get in Eddie Munson’s pants?”
“No,” you sputter, indignant and feeling suddenly too hot. 
Steve knocks your still-struggling hands from the belt, clicking you in himself, before pointing an accusatory finger in your face. “Stay here while I get Robin, and no throwing up in the Beemer.”
He shuts the door, Robin’s sweatshirt hanging from one shoulder while he stalks back into the house. 
You let your head fall back against the seat and close your eyes, bright cherry embers of cigarettes between lush-lipped curves dancing behind the dark of your lids. 
___
You manage to avoid throwing up in the BMW, saving the worst of it for the downstairs toilet of the Harrington house after Steve drags you and Robin indoors. Once your body is purged of the spirits, you collapse into your usual side of the guest bed, sweaty and exhausted, murmuring an apology to Robin who squeaks at the rocking movement of the mattress. In a few minutes, you’re lulled to sleep by the gentle snores of your best friend.
The morning sun is a very rude awakening, Robin apparently having forgotten to close the blinds before leaving with Steve for their shifts at Family Video. There’s a full glass of water on the bedside table and a few loose Tylenol tablets, the word “DRINK” sprawled on a sticky note in Steve’s handwriting.
You wince, down the meds along with half the water, and start the search for your sneakers.
When you’d signed up to protect a bunch of teens at the end of the world awhile back, it had seemed like a one-time gig. But now, here you were a few years later, loading yourself into your curb-parked junker to willingly cart around the same kids.
While wearing yesterday’s clothes. Even with the sprays of cologne that you’d stolen from Steve’s dresser, you’re pretty sure you’ll be fooling no one.
Evidenced by your first stop in east Hawkins for Dustin Henderson, who clambers into the front seat with a scathing appraisal. “Rough night?”
“You could say that,” you reply, shifting the gear to drive and grimacing at the subsequent squeal of metal that pierces into your left temple. “Learn from my mistakes as a washed-up twenty-something and cool it on the teen drinking, all right?”
“Washed up though you may be,” Dustin intones sagely, digging through his backpack and producing two brown-paper bundles, “you are now one Claudia Henderson Breakfast Sandwich Deluxe richer.”
You take the proffered sandwich gratefully, steering with one hand to peel back the oil-stained paper from the still-warm bread. “God. Is your mom looking to adopt?”
“She’s kind of got the perfect child already, but I’ll keep my ear to the ground for ya,” Dustin says around a mouthful of cheese and egg.
The solid breakfast helps your stomach ease back into a place of normality, but with your next stop adding two more kids to the mix, the rowdy bickering that follows puts that Tylenol to work.
“You’re an idiot,” Max is saying to Lucas over the sound of his indignation in the back seat. “You seriously think Indiana Jones would win against Supergirl? She can shapeshift, and she has heat vision.”
“All I’m saying is, it’s really hard to see a whip coming.” Lucas is stretching the limits of his seatbelt in his earnestness to get his girlfriend on his side.
It doesn’t work- Max rolls her eyes and taps at your shoulder. “Help me out here. His logic is totally shit, right?”
Making a turn onto the main road, you nod your assent without looking back. “I think you should listen to your very smart girlfriend, Lucas.”
Max makes a triumphant “hah”, and Dustin adds fuel to the argument’s fire when he drags in some other comic book character that you’ve never heard of. 
You hazard a glance in your rear-view mirror at Max, who’s too busy dishing out an enthusiastic rebuttal to notice. Her auburn braids swing with the movement of the car, and you wonder if they were done by her mother before work or if Max had to rely on her own hair expertise again. 
You’ve got a real soft spot for Max, always have. While you both have plenty of cause to bond over shitty home lives, it’s also Max’s brash and defiant attitude that drew you to her. She’s got the bravery you can only hope for, something that you are sure to tell her frequently, even though the compliment is hard for her to take.
You score a parking spot that’s right in front of the arcade, calling after the kids already scrambling out of your car that you want to leave at noon, sharp. They all give some form of distracted acknowledgement before disappearing into the building, so you figure the earliest you'll be getting out of here is noon-thirty. 
Not like you have much to do today, anyways, besides bother Steve and Robin at work- since the arcade is conveniently located right next to Family Video, it’s a perfect excuse to wait out the kids’ spring break activities in the company of your nearest and dearest.
You’re cutting a swift track up the sidewalk when you nearly collide with Eddie Munson, for the second time in less than 24 hours.
“Hey!” He beams at you, a wide, easy thing that fits on his face so well, like it was made to be there, boyish dimples digging in. “Long time no see.”
“Yeah,” you agree, trying to smile back but probably landing somewhere in the grimace region as memories of last night float to the forefront of your mind. Small talk. You can do it. Say something. “Um. Were you getting a movie?”
“Nah.” Eddie shakes his head, hooks a thumb at the Family Video doors behind himself. “Keith’s one of my regulars. That guy might actually smoke more weed than me.”
You hum mildly to show you’re still paying attention but really you’re looking at Eddie’s hair, dark curls that shift with each of his movements. His hair isn’t black, like you’ve been led to believe this whole time- with the morning light shining through, highlighting the halo frizz around the edges, it’s actually a deep, chocolatey brown.
Similar to his eyes. Which are trained on you. Because you haven’t talked in a weird amount of time and are now just openly ogling his hair. 
Before you can open your mouth to apologize Eddie asks, “You wanna smoke?”
You nod, perhaps a tad too enthusiastically, and then stretch on your tiptoes to peer around Eddie’s frame at the Family Video sign. “Yeah, but we gotta be fast unless you want the Wonder Twins joining us.”
His grin slips into a smirk, and he winks before taking your hand in his. “A quickie, then.”
That fluttering thing in your ribs is back. The metal of Eddie’s rings are cool against your palm as he leads you around the side of the building, dropping your hand once you both are leaned up against the red brick.
Trying not to outright stare again, you watch from the fringes of your vision as Eddie lights up and breathes a cloud of smoke into the air. His nails are painted black- they weren’t last night. An image of him- hunched over a kitchen table, tongue sticking out of those pillowy lips in concentration, a nail polish brush held in his long fingers- flits across your mind.
Eddie holds the cigarette out, filter-side towards you, and you shake your head lightly. “No thanks. I don’t actually smoke, I just wanted to talk to you.”
Eddie glows. Before he gets the wrong idea you start explaining, arms crossing tight over your chest in unconscious defense- “I wanted to talk about last night. And say I’m sorry. I’m not usually so…”
“Badass? Charming? Hot?” Eddie fills in when you trail off, taking in another deep drag of smoke. 
Christ. You feel heat rushing from head to toe as you ward off his flattery, nails nipping into your upper arms. “I was gonna say… talkative? I guess? I’m normally not one to pick fights, but Lenny was being a dick and I don’t like the way he treats the kids, or you, for that matter, and I was drunk and mouthy but that’s not an excuse to drag you into it and I’m sorry-”
“Hey, hey.” Eddie’s tone is soothing, low, cutting smoothly into your feverish confession. He reaches out and strokes the back of his knuckle across your hand, tiny half-moons from your nails leaving their impression as you soften your grasp on yourself.
He doesn’t seem to mind that you can’t look anywhere but at your sneakers planted in the gravel as he says, “You have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart. I’m a big boy, I can handle myself when it comes to dickwads like Lenny Baker. And I would say that rescuing fair maidens is part of my job description, but…”
Eddie stubs the half-smoked cigarette out against the brick, flicks it to the ground, and waits until you look up at him again before saying “You don’t seem like you’re in need of any saving.”
That flutter, again, as you hold his eye contact for as long as you can stand it. 
The corner of his mouth quirks up. “There she is.”
Mortified, you resist the urge to scream into your hands as you push off from the brick, instead squeezing them into fists at your sides. “Oh-kay. Well. I better head inside or Robin will send out the search party for me.”
Eddie lets you walk past him, but just before you turn the corner he says, “I’m across from the Mayfields in Forest Hills if you ever want some company. Or some good weed.”
Footfalls from his thick-heeled boots recede into the distance, and you take a minute to calm your breathing before pushing your way through the doors of Family Video.
Steve’s stocking a shelf of New Releases at the front of the store, vest-clad torso faced away as the bell above the door signals your entrance. On autopilot he monologues, “Welcome to Family Video, let us know how we can be of service.”
“Aw, I miss the days when you were forced to say Ahoy, mateys!” You tease, Steve turning to give you an irritated frown as you prop your hip against the register counter.
Robin clacks away on the computer, hitting the Enter key a little harder than necessary as she says, “You’re about one mall fire and a bajillion NDA’s too late to ever hear that shit again.”
Keith must be lurking around in the back office, ‘cuz the three of you only refer to last year’s cataclysmic series of events as a “mall fire” when you’re talking in code. 
Or if you’re trying to be funny. But based on the dark circles under Robin’s eyes and the harried way Steve’s shoving a hand through his hair as he drifts towards the counter, you surmise that the three of you are very much on the same page this morning with regards to humor and hijinks.
“I didn’t know it was possible to be this hungover,” Robin groans, sinking her hand into a torn-open Skittles bag and popping a handful into her mouth. “Sugar is supposed to help, right?”
You snort, fiddling with a stack of paper brochures as Steve leans against the counter. 
“Had any more run-ins with the town riffraff?” He asks, feigning casual, honey-colored eyes roaming around the shop.
“I’m visiting you, aren’t I?” You shoot back, unreasonably defensive. 
“Another point for the pretty lady, and Harrington strikes a zero,” Robin totals in her best sports broadcasting voice. “What the hell are you talking about, Steve?”
“Drinky McGee over here was spilling her guts last night to none other than Edward Munson,” Steve replies, looking satisfied when Robin’s eyes bug dramatically.
“Eddie?” Robin hops off the stool, sliding her hands from the other side of the counter to stop your own from ripping the brochures to shreds. “And what, pray tell, were you spilling about with Eddie Muson?”
“Nothing.” You pull your hands from Robin’s, rolling your eyes as if the stakes are low, when in fact the stakes are as tall as the Empire State Building. You can practically hear the wind whistling from this height. “I wasn’t… we barely talked. He was backing me up when some jock started messing with me. That’s all.”
Robin whirls on Steve with animosity- “You left her alone long enough for some meathead to get involved? Jesus, Steve, the hell is wrong with you?”
“Like you shacking up with Vickie after two Tears for Fears tracks is any more responsible!” Steve snaps.
Having spent enough time with both your friends to know their propensity towards petty arguments, you slap a hand against the counter to derail. “Hey! Both of you knock it off. It’s fine, I’m fine, we survived yet another night out on the town unscathed. Let’s just… drop it.”
Steve looks properly chastised, but Robin gets a glint in her eye that confirms she’s not thrown off the scent so easily. 
“You know what they call him, right?” she asks you, lowering her raspy voice even further.
“Eddie The Freak Munson,” Steve supplies, but shrinks noticeably when Robin gives him a withering look. “...not that, then?”
“Of course you, Steve The Hair Harrington, would only know him by that name.” Robin shakes her head, disapproving, before turning back to you with a wicked grin. “Word on the street holds Eddie The Munch Munson in very high regard.”
Steve scoffs at this, but you blink, uncomprehending.  “Munch, like… he eats a lot of food?”
You feel very suddenly and violently ganged up on when Steve and Robin give you mirrored quizzical looks.
“No, babe,” Robin says, slowly. “Munch as in he eats pussy.”
“Jesus christ.” Heat courses through you as you scan the empty store, even as Steve chuckles and says, “You really are a prude.”
A skittle sails airborne into the side of his temple and he flinches, Robin coming to your aid. “That’s no way to talk to a lady, Steven.”
“I’m so not a prude.” You’re quick to jump to your own defense. “I just… didn’t know what that meant.”
You’d had a boyfriend for 6 months your sophomore year of high school, Ben- nice enough guy, but you’d mostly dated as an excuse to get all your firsts out of the way. Some laid-back hookups have occurred since then- it’s not like you’ve been chaste all these years, for fuck’s sake.
But you certainly wouldn’t give any of those boys a prize-winning nickname for their ability to eat you out. 
“It’s all baseless gossip, right?” Steve grabs a nearby wheeled cart and pushes it to the New Releases, resuming his shelf stocking. “I mean, what the hell else are small-townies good for other than trading lies like baseball cards.”
“I dunno,” Robin says, thoughtfully, sucking at her front teeth. “If the token lesbian is hearing about it, then he’s gotta be some sort of sex god.”
Steve’s making a snarky comeback, but you can’t hear him over the whistling in your ears.
You stare blankly out at the parking lot, one hand absently crunching at a brochure, trying really hard to think of anything but those plush lips and all the places you want them. 
____
Ever since the events of last year ripped a hole in your found family’s world, you make it a weekly habit to visit Max.
You’re always armed with some excuse- made too much pasta, please take it off my hands and put this tupperware in your fridge; I was on my way to the thrift store and thought I’d stop by, wanna come with and help me pick out some new jeans?- so that it’s harder for Max to deny your company. Slowly, over the last handful of months, by way of secondhand book offerings and slices of leftover pizza, Max has let her guard down enough to let you in. 
Even on days like today, when her demeanor suggests active disdain (calling you “mom” with a caustic bite when you ask after her last meal, rolling her eyes when she finds you doing the leftover sink dishes), you don’t take it personal. Her coldness towards little acts of kindness is due to the shitty way other people have failed her. And plus, you’ve put in enough effort to be able to see the warm side of Max Mayfield.
Like now, for instance- she’s giving you a bone-crushing hug on your way out, freshly-braided hair pressed tight to your sternum as you hug her back and sway in the doorway. The hug is quick and fierce, over in seconds as she slips back into practiced indifference
“Stay out of trouble this week and I’ll buy you a pony,” you joke as she pulls away, and the smile that she cracks makes it all worth it. 
“Make it a racehorse and you’ve got yourself a deal,” she says, giving you a small wave before closing her front door.
You walk down the dirt path to your parked car, keys in hand. Tonight’s schedule is that of a responsible, sensible young adult- the classified ads on your desk at home need trawling through, and a laundry pile the size of Hoosier Hill waits expectantly on your floor.
But there’s this crawling under your skin, a feeling that tends to flare up every so often, a craving for some sort of release gnawing at the edges. Usually the cure is sad music and masturbation, or some of Steve’s parents’ wine and a cheesy romcom. 
Or weed. That tends to work, too.
You’re shoving your keys into the pocket of your denim jacket and walking across the way to Eddie’s trailer before you lose your nerve, scuffing your sneakers against his porch while you knock.
He looks surprised to see you, dark brows raised, leaning into the palm he’s got on the doorframe- “Oh shit. Hi.”
“Hi,” you reply, tracking one foot up the back of your calf, feeling timid under his gaze. “Do you… can I buy some weed?”
When he nods, you duck under his arm and drop to one knee on the carpeted floor to untie your laces.
“Shit, sweetheart, don’t go to all that trouble.” He lets the door close, enveloping you both in the moody lighting of his trailer. There’s a radio playing the local rock station dimly from one of the bedrooms, and as you toe off your shoes you notice a gleaming black guitar leaned upright against the couch.
“Do you play?” You drift over on sock feet to gently brush across the strings, a faint and discordant noise rising and fading underneath your fingertips.
“Yeah.” Eddie’s voice comes from just over your shoulder as he watches your gentle fingers on his prized possession. “I’m in a band, actually. You should come see us play sometime.”
“That’s cool,” you say earnestly. “I remember when you got in trouble for that talent show performance- your band was totally swindled out of first place, if you ask me.”
When he doesn’t respond right away, you hazard a look at him over your shoulder and find him staring at you again, something you’re still not used to, giggling out a little “What?” as his eyes stay on your face.
“You’re pretty, that’s all.” The Dio logo on the front of his tee ripples when he shrugs a shoulder. As if he knew it would embarrass you, he leaves no room for your disagreement, turning away into the kitchen, stretching tall for the metal lunchbox on the top of his fridge.
His shirt lifts with the stretch, a flash of stomach lined with a trail of dark hair that makes you swallow back the gathering saliva in your mouth. 
“So, weed,” he’s saying as he pops the lid on the box, shaking out a small bag of fuzzy-looking green clumps. “I can set you up with a couple of days’ worth, if you want.”
“That sounds good,” you reply, mustering courage to drift to Eddie’s side, pretending to assess the baggie he’s holding, committing to memory the way his long fingers deftly pluck apart bud from stem. “That way I can come back and buy more.”
His fingers pause, halfway to the metal grinder nestled in the lunchbox as he says, “You know, you don’t need to use weed as an excuse to come see me. I think we’ve already established I like lookin’ at ya, so you’d be doing me a favor if you came by more. Just to hang out.”
This offer sits between you as he grinds the weed down, then tips a stripe of it neatly across some rolling paper. His dexterous fingers pinch and tuck until a joint takes shape, a small strip of the paper poking out.
He holds it to your lips, brown eyes shimmering with warmth as he waits. 
A Stevie Nicks song starts up on the radio, muffled by the trailer walls but crooning through all the same. This close to Eddie for the first time, you can smell him- balmy and spicy, like bergamot and Irish Spring. 
You lean into the joint, licking across the paper in one unbroken motion. Your tongue catches on Eddie’s thumb when you pull away, and there’s a salt-warm taste that settles in your mouth.
“Good girl,” he says, in that low-toned voice, and you have to fight to keep your thighs from pressing together in your jeans.
“Wanna smoke here?” Eddie smooths the spit-damp end of the joint down, giving the end a twist. “Good way to test out the merchandise. First one’s free.”
You shake your head as he extends the joint- “I’m definitely paying you, Eddie. And no, I can’t smoke here.” With you being the unspoken addition to that sentence. 
“Aw, shucks, sweetheart,” he drawls, devilish grin creeping back in, “You don’t trust me?”
“It’s not you I don’t trust,” you admit, before you can stop yourself.
His brows shoot up again, then waggle, obscenely. “Afraid I’m gonna be too tempting to resist once you’re in the clutches of the Green Dragon?”
Something like that, you think, wryly, but that fluttering is back and you really want to shut it up, so against your sensible, better judgment, you take the joint from Eddie’s hand.
“Got a light?”
You haven’t smoked in over a month, and with your tolerance so low two hits is all it takes to get you sprawled out on the living room floor, arms akimbo like you’re making a carpet snow angel.
Eddie’s a bit more restless in his high, plucking melodious and listless tunes from the couch with his guitar, one foot propped on the coffee table near your head.
Feeling loose-limbed and confident, you stare unabashed up at Eddie. He’d put his hair into a low bun, earlier, and there are a few dark tendrils swinging free around his neck with the rocking movements of his body to the music. 
He hits a snag, string buzzing out a dissonant noise. “Can’t focus with you lookin’ at me.”
“Sorry,” you murmur, except you’re not at all. “Now you know how I feel all the time.”
He sticks his tongue out at you, your girlish tittering in answer; you pat the carpet beside your hip. “Come lay with me.”
His body responds easily to your request; Eddie props the guitar back up against the couch and stretches out next to you with a sigh, a wave of that smokey sweet smell coming with him.
Under your weed-filtered view, the popcorn ceiling above you is moving, whorling and undulating in the muted light. You’re feeling gutsy and sure of yourself as you ask aloud, “Do you really think I’m pretty?”
Your head turns so you can meet Eddie’s eyes, which are dancing across your face- cheek to lips to nose back up to eyes- and he doesn’t make a joke, this time, his words coming with weighty seriousness.
“Yeah, I do. I think you’re beautiful. Always have.”
“Always?” Your echo is a soft and seeking thing.
“Yeah, always,” he confirms, simply, as if it’s a fact of life. “Woulda made a move sooner, but you always seemed so…”
“Unapproachable? Aloof? Bitchy?” You fill the gap in his speech with adjectives that have been used to characterize you in the past- usually by boys in the heat of an argument over inconsequential things that have been lost to time, only the labels sticking around. 
Eddie gives you a reproachful look. “No. I was gonna say, you seemed like you were always in your own world.”
This throws you for a loop. Neck on a swivel, you look back up at the ceiling as Eddie continues.
“I wanted to get to know you more, but I’ll be the first to admit I was intimidated by you. I mean, you’re way out of my league-” Eddie ignores the sardonic snort you give to this- “-and I just assumed asking you out would've ended with an epic crash and burn.”
The ceiling stops swaying, and you swivel back to hold Eddie’s eyes again, the weed making honesty easy. “I always kinda thought you were beautiful, too.”
Awash with the bravery that only comes from being in an altered state, you keep the momentum that’s aided by Eddie’s soft smile and push up on your elbows. 
“I know what they call you.”
Eddie blinks up at you, then slowly, slowly, pushes himself up onto his elbows too. “Yeah?”
It’s a taunt, a dare, an I bet you won’t.
Shows how much he knows. When you’re drunk or stoned, he’d be hard pressed to find a bet you can’t win.
You say it, unwavering. “Eddie The Munch Munson.”
His lips fall open, leaning in towards you as if drawn by a magnet, and you think he’s gonna kiss you until he falls back against the carpet, scrubbing his hands down his face. “Shit. Fuck. We can’t do this.”
“Why not?” You’re a little taken aback, ‘cuz while it’s not an outright rejection, Eddie’s upping the drama, hands pressed into the sockets of his eyes, groaning as he tips into your side.
With his forehead pressed into the curve of your shoulder, he says softly, “I think we’re both a little too stoned to be thinking clearly. And I really, really want you to think clearly when it comes to this.”
“Comes to what?” You’re egging him on now, trailing your fingers up his bicep, coy and angelic. 
He rolls away from you, making a pained noise with his face smushed into the carpet before pushing himself off the ground. “You know what, princess. New topic, for the love of god. You hungry?”
You are, actually, and when he extends his hand to help you up, you take it.
Eddie whips up a box of mac and cheese while you sit on a counter nearby, conversation engaging and fluid as he cooks.
Between interjections of ‘scuse me, angel, gotta get into this cabinet and can you take over stirring for a sec? you answer all his questions. You tell him your favorite bands, the states you’d visited on a road trip when you were six, even giving him the whole “my mom’s a nice enough person but we don’t get along” spiel that you don’t usually get to until a third date.
If that’s even what this is. He’s scooping steaming noodles into two bowls, passing you one, leaning up against the counter closest to the one you’re sat on. Your knee rubs against his ribcage as you eat.
In between chews, he lets you ask about himself- his favorite bands, the states he’s never been but wants to travel to someday, the highlights of his golden years with his mom that he misses every day.
There’s a quiet lull, after your bowls are scraped clean and set aside. He helps you off the counter and tells you to pick out a movie; you load The Black Cauldron into the VCR and settle into the couch cushion.
Eddie puts an arm around you, lets you play with his hands for the bulk of the film, running your nails methodically across his palms. 
By the last act of the movie, you can feel your high beginning to fade, taking your courage with it; when the credits roll, you’re ready to call it quits and sleep off the hangover in your own bed.
“You sure you’re okay to drive?” Eddie asks, following after you as you tug your sneakers back on in the hall.
“Yeah, Eddie, I’ll be good. Thanks for the weed,” you say, pulling your jacket tight around your frame. “And for the- for everything.”
The smile appears again; the one that cuts deep dimples into his cheeks as he watches you step onto his porch.
When he says your name, you turn, keys in hand- “Yeah?”
Leaning into the doorframe like he had earlier, he cants his head, streetlight a warm glow across his cheeks. “You wanna know where I got my nickname, you come back in a few days. Sleep on it tonight.” And then he closes the door.
___
So, technically, he told you to come back in a few days, and showing up less than 24 hours later has to hint at being some sort of desperate. 
Which, fuck it, you kinda are, at this point. Frankly it’s a miracle you’ve lasted this long what with the whole being plagued with visions of Eddie Munson’s hands and lips and hair and that stupid fucking nickname every waking and dreaming hour you’ve spent apart. 
While you can appreciate the honorable nature of Eddie asking you to make a clear-headed decision, you’re wishing for a hundred things to take the edge off as you change out of the PJ’s you’ve been moping in all day.
Black tights stretch over your calves as you think of the whiskey you mom keeps hidden in the downstairs cabinet; denim miniskirt smoothed over your hips as you long for a deep hit of weed; hands shakily plucking your black tanktop into place as the urge to be anything but sober gets swallowed down. 
You make the ten minute drive to Forest Hills in silence (relative to the weird engine noises your hunk of metal car decides to make), wracking your brain for silver-tongued excuses but instead drawing blank after blank.
By the time you’re rolling to a stop in front of Eddie’s trailer, you still have no idea what you’re gonna say to him- only that something needs to be said. Max is at the Sinclair’s for the night, one less person to worry about witnessing you slamming your car door shut and walking right up to Eddie on his front steps.
He’s wearing a pair of overalls, grease-stained, shirtless underneath- the tail end of a larger ink piece peeking out against his ribs. There’s a lone bike tire on the ground, held steady by the spokes his boot rests on as he wrenches the middle hub, biceps rippling and flexing with each movement. 
Certainly a sight that would have stopped you in your tracks, on any other day. But you’re determined to have it out with the returning wingbeat behind your navel, planting your Converse in the gravel just before the first step that Eddie’s sat on.
He doesn’t seem surprised to see you this time, instead giving you a lazy smile on a half-tilt, wiping the tire oil from his hands onto the front of his overalls.
“What brings a fair maiden such as yourself to this ugly neck of the woods?” Eddie leans the tire up against the steps and rises to greet you.
You’re gonna lose what little nerve you have left if he touches you so you act quick, speaking as you cross your arms- “I need to tell you a few things.”
That stops him up short, just a few feet away as he inclines his head, hair loose around his bare shoulders. “I’m nothin’ but ears.”
A wet, rattling breath catches in your chest. You give a cursory scan around to confirm that the rest of the trailer park citizens are indoors, soft lights from rows of windows luminous against the darkening twilight sky.
“I have a… a thing,” you start, unsure of where to begin, really wishing you’d come up with a polished script on the ride over instead of being forced to flounder through for the right dialogue. “It started last year. With the mall fire?” 
When Eddie nods his understanding, you continue, in short starts and bursts, like you’re fighting with the words before they come out.
“Something… happened. To Robin, and Steve, and to- to me. It was really bad, for awhile, and then it got better, but I’m still…” your hands squeeze tight into the flesh of your upper arms, nails stinging. “I’m fucked up from it. And the only way I can talk about it is if I’m fucked up, too. S’why I can only hold a conversation when I’m drunk or flirt while I’m high, like there’s this bad thing inside of me that I can’t look at when I’m sober-”
There’s a frantic edge that’s slipped in to your voice and Eddie steps towards you, as if to soothe, but you’re not ready to give in yet so you take a step back, choking out the last few words- “I just- I wish I could tell you everything, but I can’t, not yet, and I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”
From somewhere in the forest behind, a bright chorus of crickets swells as you fix your focus on the ground, as Eddie’s boots crunch forward on the gravel, toe-to-toe with your sneakers.
He moves carefully, as if worried that you’ll spook- lightly brushing his fingers across yours, drawing your awareness to the fact that your nails are dangerously close to drawing blood, a sigh as you release.
“Thank you for telling me.” Unlike your own voice, his is low and sure as his thumbs brush against the red half-moons in your arms. “You’re really brave, you know that?”
He doesn’t leave room for you to dispute this, instead tracing the underside of your jaw with his knuckle, forcing you to hold his gaze, those deep brown eyes soft with empathy as he says, “I don’t have any expectations of you, ‘kay? I’ll be all ears when you need me to be, but you don’t have to spill all your secrets every time you come around. You wanna just watch shitty cartoons and keep my couch warm, that’s fine by me. Nothin’ else needs to happen.”
And it’s his acknowledgement of your admission, his softhearted way of letting you know that nothing needs to happen, that makes you brave.
Brave enough to tilt your chin into the lift of his finger as you say, “I didn’t just come here to apologize.”
You watch his Adam’s apple bob against the taut vein in his neck as he swallows, hard. 
“Yeah?”
When you nod, Eddie blows out a breath and turns on his heel, motioning you to follow him up the stairs. 
Your eagerness is obvious as you scramble up the steps after him, heart starting to thrum in tandem with the flutters as he shuts his front door behind the both of you.
“Take your shoes off,” is all he says, in a low, strained voice, before turning into the kitchen.
Obedient, you drop to one knee and jerk apart your sneaker laces with trembling hands. 
Now on nyloned feet, you step onto the linoleum tile of Eddie’s kitchen. He’s faced away from you at the sink, taut lines of his shoulders rising and falling as he washes his hands.
“You’re sober?” He asks, still at the sink, drying his hands on a patterned teatowel. 
When you realize he can’t see your nod, you speak- “Yes. Yeah. As a judge.”
A soft exhale through his nose, amused, as he finally turns to face you. Eddie’s eyes do that hypnotizing dance- skipping from your chin to your eyes to your lips back up again- and you let him, feeling exposed to the point of nakedness with the intensity of his focus.
“I want to hear you say it.”
The sentence winds through the air, joins the wings in your stomach, sits low in your belly as you shift your weight from side to side, a gentle rock to ease your flayed-alive nerves. 
You say it. “I want your mouth.”
Eddie takes a step closer, nearly toe-to-toe with you again. Over the familiar layer of bergamot and fresh hand soap he smells like the outdoors, and faintly of mechanic oil, hearty and wild.
“Where?” It’s a single word, but with so much weight- suggestive, a taunt, an offer.
You breathe him in, eyes fluttering closed, ‘cuz brave as you’ve been it’s still hard to say some things while looking at him. “Want your mouth… on me.”
He crowds into your space, one hand gliding smoothly to set against your waist, the other fitted against your neck, tapping a thumb to your lips.
You part them, passive and wanting, but he doesn’t press his finger to the pad of your tongue like you’d hoped. Instead, he lets his thumb stroke to the corner of your mouth to make room for his own. 
“Where?” he asks again, this time into your mouth. You can feel the tip of his nose graze yours, pinpricks of his hair tickling your cheeks. 
“Please,” is all you manage this time, awash with heat when you feel his smile form. 
“S’okay, sweetheart. I’ll work you up to it.” It’s a touch condescending, skirting that fine line between tease and mean, the same tone of voice that has your thighs pressing together.
And then, he gives you what you asked for. His plush lips- the ones that you’ve been fantasizing about for what feels like eons- are pressing against yours.
It’s a kiss that starts chaste, tender, but soon devolves into a heady, fevered thing when you push your tongue past the seam of his lips. He melts into you, using the hand he has on your face to keep you steady as he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, grazing his teeth into the plush of it before going back to twining his tongue with yours. 
There’s an audible wet click as he pulls away, both of your chests heaving in the quiet that follows; Eddie rests his forehead against yours briefly to catch his breath, and then he’s tugging you down the hall and into his room.
It’s pleasantly messy and lived-in, posters and photographs taking up most of the walls, guitar cables snaking and criss-crossing atop his dresser. You take a seat on the bed, hands tightening into the flannel duvet while Eddie begins to undo the buttons of his overall straps.
Wholly fascinated, you watch as he pushes the thick material from his body and kicks it to the side, leaving him in just his guitar pick necklace and a simple pair of black boxers. Now on full display, you drink in the sight of the most skin you’ve ever seen of his- tattoos at his chest and arms dark against the rest of him, pale and gleaming softly in the yellow light of the bedside lamp. 
You’re trying to figure out if the larger piece on his ribs is a dragon or some other mythological creature when he moves in to sit next to you, his kisses erasing all thoughts.
Eddie’s making these throaty little noises as you kiss; his hands track lines from your hips to your sides to your shoulders, your chest unconsciously pressing into his touch. 
When his thumb catches on the outline of your beaded nipple through your shirt, he hisses lightly, drawing back to look at you again- “Is this okay?”
You nod, but he doesn’t seem satisfied with that, tsking as he swipes with his thumb again, watching closely as you react silently to the touch.
“Hard to tell when you’re enjoying yourself if you’re quiet as a churchmouse,” Eddie says, in a tone that’s reminiscent of training a pet. “You gonna let me hear you?”
Your teeth catch on your lower lip as he thumbs across your nipple again, shockwaves coursing into goosebumps as you choke out, “I’m not s-so good at that. Not without- fuck- weed..”
Eddie huffs a laugh, a little derisive but you figure he’s probably got the right, seeing as how you’re this worked up and he’s barely touched you.
“You’re plenty good at this sober, sweetheart. Want me to prove it?”
His hand falls from your breast, extricates one of yours from the covers, and slides it up the meat of his thigh- then to the front of his boxers.
The first noise you make for him is a small gasp, one that matches his own as you cup your palm over the thick jut of his hard cock.
“Told you,” he says, sounding strung-out, his hand still closed around your wrist, “You’re doin’ just fine at working me up.”
You wrap your fingers around the bulge as best you can with the fabric of his boxers separating skin from skin, gaining confidence to explore as his grip on your wrist loosens. The black ink at his ribs expands and shrinks with the bellows of his breath, jolting and stuttering with each stroke of your hand.
Just as he’s drawing in a breath to speak, tightening his hold around your wrist in warning, you still your movements. Delicately, slowly, you slide out of his grasp and take his wrist in your hand, placing his palm on your own thigh.
The whole “reciprocating pleasure with sound” is still a hard one to give in to; maybe you can compensate for your hesitancy by showing instead of telling. You guide his hand up, into your skirt, parting your thighs until his fingers find the wetness soaking through both your panties and tights. 
“Fucking… jesus.” Eddie moves with the fluid surety that you lack, middle finger running up the seam of your clothed pussy, your hips jerking reflexively when he catches against your clit. “This all for me, princess?”
In answer, you lean to bury your face into the crook of Eddie’s neck. He lets you, taking the opportunity to hook your leg over his thigh, spreading you out as much as your fitted denim skirt will allow.
You pant into the column of his throat as he strokes you through the light layers, the fabrics grinding friction into your clit caught under his fingertip. He rests his chin on the crown of your head, cooing praises that have your stomach muscles tensing.
“That’s it, good girl, such a good girl for me.”
Your clit is throbbing now as he rubs you in small, quick circles, and you’re so close to falling over the edge that you have to pull his hand away.
Eddie picks up on your unspoken plea; he tugs the skirt down your hips then tosses it blindly over his shoulder, reaching for the edge of your tights. He slips them down your thighs, your calves, peeling them off you with reverence. When all that’s left is your best pair of satin panties, he maneuvers you up against the headboard and stretches himself flat on his stomach, nose pressing into your core.
That heat has come back, flashing through you with a vengeance as Eddie mouths at your pussy through the satin, sloppily but with purpose enough to have your cunt clenching around nothing.
You stay up on your elbows, watching that mane of dark hair bracketed by your thighs, but when Eddie pulls your underwear down and off your ankle your weight falls back against the mattress.
The flat of his tongue licks a wide stripe from your weeping hole up to spread the wetness around your clit. When he sucks the bundle of nerves into his mouth, your head presses back into the covers, hands grappling above you for something to anchor your grasp.
When Eddie flicks the point of his tongue against that bright spot of nerves your hands find a pillow to grip, and when he moans into your pussy the vibrations have you instinctively pulling the pillow against your face, teeth biting into the fluff, masking the whine that would have been loud in the otherwise quiet room.
You think you might be able to get away with this setup (what with Eddie seemingly focused on making you explode into a million little pieces) but there’s a sharp smack before the outer skin of your thigh is burning, white-hot from the kiss of his rings.
Eddie’s mouth leaves you only for the time it takes for him to rip the pillow from your grasp and scold, “Uh uh, none of that, c’mon,” and then he’s back at your clit, suckling with renewed vengeance.
There are little stars bursting at the edges of your vision, your hands shooting down to grip at Eddie’s hair when he pistons the point of his tongue against you again. Your hips are subtly bucking into his mouth, shaking thighs involuntarily closing around his ears. Normally you’d be concerned about Eddie’s air intake but going off the moans he’s burying in your pussy, you’d hazard a guess that he’s really into it.
As if in confirmation, he pulls off your clit with a wet pop, laving his tongue up the junction where thigh meets pelvis, voice sounding wrecked- “Doin’ so good, sweetheart. Fuck, you got me so hard. Gonna blow a load in my boxers like a teenager, y’taste so good. Gonna let me hear you? Hm? Wanna hear you.”
You’re dizzy with want as you prop yourself on your elbows again, mouth falling open as Eddie sinks two of his fingers up to the ringed knuckle inside your velvet walls.
His other hand comes to rest on the soft curve of your stomach, pinning you in place, before he looks up at you, black pupils nearly eclipsing the chocolate brown. 
“What do you want?” he asks again, patiently, as if he doesn’t have two fingers nestled inside your cunt.
Your efforts to grind into him are stopped with his firm hold on your middle, and he tuts at you again- but instead of a reprimand, he seems to soften a bit.
“C’mon, angel,” Eddie says, with such tenderness that makes tears prick at the corner of your eyes. He presses his lips to the inside of your thigh before encouraging, “Lemme hear you say it, and I’ll make it so good for you. Promise.”
“Want you to make me come. Please.” Your voice is unsteady, but it’s audible enough.
Eddie rewards you by sinking his fingers further, to the hilt, heel of his palm catching against your clit. When you let out a warbling moan, he nods- “That’s it,”- before setting a steady rhythm for fucking his fingers up into you. 
“Fuck, Eddie- fu-uck…” you’re trying, really trying to stay in the moment and not get caught up in the noises you’re making- for him. 
When Eddie reattaches his mouth to your throbbing clit and angles his fingers to hit into that soft, spongy spot with each thrust, you feel waves of pleasure start to wash through you. There’s just time for a choked “Shit, Eddie, you’re gonna make me cum,” before you’re spasming around his fingers.
Somehow, you manage to stay on your elbows, bracing your body through the convulsive shocks, white-hot stars joining the wingbeat rhythm as Eddie takes you apart with his mouth and fingers.
He moans, long and low, fucking you through it and then some- your orgasm has been completely wrung out when you push at his forehead, whimpering at the overstimulation. 
“No, baby, one more, please. Gimme one more,” Eddie lifts his head to plead with you, sweaty bangs glued to his forehead- and then he’s back between your legs.
It’s this moment that makes you retrospective. Sex with boys, in the past, has always been a quick means to an end: a few minutes of foreplay, tamping down your own pleasure for the sake of blowing off some steam. 
But now, pleasure was being given to you in spades by Eddie Munson, and you wanted to give it back to him.
You come on his tongue and fingers, again, stomach tightening beneath his warm palm, and this time you really loose the sounds caught in your chest: a strangled mix of your bliss-soaked whines with his name, Eddie Eddie Eddie. 
You feel the bed frame jolt below you both as Eddie’s hips thrust into the mattress in a frenzied tempo.
“Fuck me.” He pulls away, finally, panting into the side of your knee. He rests his head against your leg, lips tinged pink and shining wet, gazing at you with lust-blown eyes. “You are so fucking hot. Holy shit.”
Bashful as your peak wears off, you pull him forward so you don’t have to look at him when you whisper, “Yeah?”
“Yeah, princess,” he says, slumping against your chest and into your arms. “That’s going straight to my long-term spank bank. Number one. For sure.”
You slap playfully at his shoulder, and he rises on his elbows to kiss you- once on the lips, twice on the cheek- warm palms on the outside of your shoulders. 
“Are you… d’you need any help?” you ask, reaching to tuck his hair behind his ears, feeling the crush of insecurity leech in. “I dunno if you even- I mean, did you…”
From all the physical activity, your breasts are half-spilled out of your bra, and Eddie bends to kiss at the tops of them, affectionately, shaking his head as he goes. “There is no world in which I would’ve lasted, just now. Very noble of you to assume, though.”
He grins at your giggle, then says- “I dunno about you, but I need some new underwear. Wanna borrow a pair of my boxers? Bet you’d look cute.”
________
Later, when you’re both cleaned up, dressed, and full from a pizza delivery, Eddie invites you outside for a smoke.
You sit with him on the porch couch, legs slung over his, a big flannel blanket shared over both your laps while he smokes with the hand that isn’t on your thigh. 
There’s a crunching of wheels on gravel, and Max Mayfield’s bike lamp cuts through the dark.
“Hey, Heavy Metal,” she calls out, undoing her bike helmet and leaning her bike into its kickstand. “Are you done fixing up Lucas’s tires or do I have to keep hauling my ass all the way across town to see him?”
“I’ll have it done tomorrow, Red,” Eddie calls back, giving her a salute.
Halfway to her door, she remarks, “You two are gross, by the way,” 
You cross your arms in the sweatshirt Eddie loaned you, slipping into irksome older sister mode easily. “So how’d it go with your boyfriend, tonight, Maxine?”
She flips you both off, but you catch the smile on her face before the front door bangs shut behind her.
Eddie chuckles, smoothing his palm up your thigh, then takes another drag. “You gotta come night smoke with me more often, angel. The streetlights suit you.”
“Gonna get me hooked on nicotine, too?” Your sock foot pokes him in the ribs and he tuts, snapping it up in his free hand and digging his thumb into the arch of your sole.
“Fuck no, your teeth are too pretty to ruin. Want you to come keep me company while I destroy my lungs.”
Another cloud of smoke lifts dreamily around Eddie’s face. His thumb is working wonders on the tense muscle of your foot as you tip your head to rest on the back of the couch. With the nearby streetlamp, his profile is cast in a warm glow; you do a dance of your own, eyes taking in the strong slope of his nose, tracking down to his lips, back up to the wild curls at his temple.
Eddie feels you staring, turns to fix you with a quit it look that you can’t help but laugh at- “What, so you’re the only one who’s allowed to stare?”
“That’s right,” he confirms, leaning forward to set his cig in an ashtray, bullying his way into your space, rings cold under your chin when he tilts your face towards his- “Gotta pay the piper for that obvious violation, sweetheart. Sorry. I don’t make the rules.”
This time, when the flutter within you kicks up, you have a place for it to go- melting softly into Eddie’s lips. 
___________________
I wrote the last third of this while blasted please don’t judge too harshly lmao
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generalsmemories · 9 months
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Noodle
✧ Imbibitor Lunae! Dan Heng x gn!reader
✧ synopsis: an evening of you getting familiar with dan heng's true form leads to the birth of an unique nickname - he doesn't complain though.
✧ content: established relationship, fluff, humor
✧ a/n: shocked gasps fills the hall. naru writing about someone else other than jing yuan?? scandalous. jk, this is a celebration of his banner dropping actually !! may all il dan heng wanters become il dan heng havers! enjoy this short sweet piece whilst you shower the boy in love or get stuck farming his materials. not beta read once again fellas.
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It's a quiet evening onboard the astral express, everyone had already clocked out for the day and retired to their room to rest. Dan Heng had planned to do the same, having wanted to update the data bank before heading to bed for an early night.
But instead of doing that, he finds himself currently seated on the floor with his back leaning against one of the wall of bookshelves beside his futon on the ground. His hands are around your waist while you've wormed yourself between his legs on your knees so that you can be slightly taller than him for easier access to his horns - which you've been playing with for the last 10 minutes.
His head is resting against your bent forearms whilst your fingers are caressing the horns on his head with a content hum. He blinks his eyes open, adjusting himself so that he's now staring up at you, but your attention is still on his translucent horns.
"You having fun over there?" he asks in a whisper, and you nod with a grin.
"Yeah, did I mention how beautiful they are?"
"A couple of times."
"Well, it's true," you remind him, briefly looking down to make eye contact so you can give him a grin, "Can you actually feel them getting touched?" you ask, and the Vidyadhara male nods slightly.
"The closer you get to the base, the more I can feel it." he explains, which makes you tilt your head curiously to the side, "Sensitive then?" you inquire.
"No, not really. I think it has more with your grip," he clarifies, to which you raise your eyebrows, halting slightly to settle down on his lap, Dan Heng using the opportunity to lean his face into your neck. You chuckle, a hand naturally making their way up to graze a finger down the back of his horns - the action making the Vidyadhara male before you tremble slightly.
"It's ticklish when you touch me that gently, you know."
"Sorry, it's hard to adjust the strength, what if I accidentally hurt you?"
"You won't. But for reference the same strength you use to hold my hand is enough," he mutters into your skin, the way your fingers graze his horns somehow makes him sleepy, but he can't fully drift off to sleep because he feels that you have something more to ask him.
"... What is it?" he asks after a moment of silence, pulling away from the comforts of your neck to stare at you.
"Nothing, I just..." you mutter, "... Can I touch your tail too?" you finally ask in a whisper. Dan Heng blinks up at you in surprise before he let's out a sigh, "You're really liking this form of mine, aren't you?"
"Well, it's still you. More you than ever, no? Are you uncomfortable with me asking so much, though?" you ask, leaning slightly away so that you can give him space, but you find yourself unable when his arms wrap around your waist.
He shakes his head, "You can ask whenever you want. Nothing is too much with you."
He said it so casually that it surprises you. Your eyes softening at the amount of trust he has in you, "... Dan Heng?" you inquire, the Vidyadhara male tilting his head to the side with a hum, "Can I kiss you?"
He chuckles lowly, "What's with you and wanting to ask my permission so much today?" he mutters, fingers grazing your cheek before settling at the back of your neck, gently pulling you closer so he can peck your lips.
"Even I don't know what's gotten into me today," you tell him, "But can I still touch your tail?"
"Said tail has been out for the past few minutes you know. You've just been too absorbed in your own thoughts to realize," he points out, and when you direct your gaze down towards the floor, you notice that the translucent tail is indeed resting on your right side.
"It's as dark as your horns, but even more transluscent," you remark out loud, grazing the scales with a fingers, before picking the pliant tail up with your hands, "Ohh, it's even cool to the touch! Like the perfect temperature to hug," you say, wrapping your arms around the tail before letting you fall down to land on his futon, resting your cheek against the tail, the tuft of hair at the end tickling your skin slightly.
And you seem content for a while, rubbing your face against his tail, so Dan Heng goes back to his initial plan for the evening on updating a few sections of the data bank.
But it only goes a few minutes of him tapping away on the keyboard in the silent room before you quip back up again from your spot, "You know, with all these draconic features you have now, you're like a noodle." you say, Dan Heng raising his eyebrows in confusion, "Noodle?" he asks, just once more to confirm it.
"Yeah, you can summon a dragon that's like a long noodle, your tail is long too like a noodle, and if you think about it, dragons are able to just worm around like a noodle. So you're a noodle," you explain, "But you're my noodle, so it's cute," you say in the end, laughing at the new nickname you've come up for him.
Dan Heng rolls his eyes with a defeated smile. The tail in your arms suddenly disappear from your grasp, but before you can react at its sudden disappearance you find Dan Heng already leaning closer to you to slot his lips over your own once again, "I really don't understand you sometimes," he whispers when you part, "But I guess that's fine too."
You called him yours, and as long as he remains yours, Dan Heng can handle any weird nickname you conjure up for him in the middle of the night.
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ventismacchiato · 10 months
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40.5 behind the lens — fuck me like i’m famous !
BONUS CHAPTER 🔞 NSFW
content warnings — semi public sex, hickeys, biting, blowjobs, untouched cumming, degrading, leashes, grinding, oral sex, top scara
word count: ~2.4k
notes; my attempt at gender neutral smut, when he’s fucking you it can be…ykw either 🐱 or 🍑…wtv u want! 🤞
no plot just porn so feel free to skip this chapter
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That Friday would have been a normal stream like any other week. Your camera was on, the game loaded and ready to go as you talked to your chat. It was going great as usual.
Well, apart from Scaramouche eating you out from underneath your desk.
“Thank you for the donation,” you smiled, albeit strained. Your sweats had been tugged off, bare thighs against the cushion of your gaming seat as Scara’s head was buried in your sex. His tongue working around it caused obscene sounds, which forced you to raise your voice to try and drown him out. Everytime his tongue slid across your soaking sex it caused your legs to tremble ever so slightly.
You let one hand wander under your desk, your nails digging into his scalp to reward him as he moves his lips off your sex and towards your inner thigh. At this point you were biting your lips as you tried to focus on your stream, a heat pooling in your stomach as Scara quickly lifted your legs to rest on his shoulders.
You had to hide your gasp as your knees almost hit the bottom of your desk, his warm tongue working its way back onto your sex. His cheeks, which were usually so pale, were now flushed red as he looked up at you. A bit of spit had spilled out from the corner of his lips as he sucked on your sex, wet sounds almost failing to be concealed by your nervous laughs.
Impatience grew between the both of you as you could feel yourself getting closer. The ring hanging on Scara’s lips felt cold against your sex as he tilted his head, gathering more access to you.
“I think I’ll have to end the stream early today,” you swallow, “I’m not feeling too good.”
You bit the inside of your cheek as a wave of responses came in, your fans wishing you well as you bid farewell. After a few minutes you shut the camera off and looked down at the sight before you.
“Can I have you now?” Scara asked, a lazy grin adorning his face as he removed your legs from his shoulders and came out from underneath the desk. He unceremoniously discarded his pants and belt as he did so, wiping your pre-cum from his lips.
Your expression was nothing short of captivated as Scaramouche slid into your lap, knees on either side of your thighs. It’s a tight fit on the leather chair, but it’s hard to care when his hands grab your waist to steady himself and god , they’re so slender and firm as he slides them underneath your shirt.
A moan easily slipped out of your lips, proving your sensitivity to his touch as Scara smirked at your reaction.
“Be quiet baby, don’t want anyone to hear this, yeah?” he murmured, tapping on your chest.
“Shut up,” you huffed, hands slipping around his waist to steady Scara.
“Watch,” he instructs, taking your hands off his waist as he makes his way to unbutton the top of his shirt.
You lean back obediently, moving to keep your hands on the arm rests but you couldn’t control your fingers from twitching as Scara slides the button-up off his shoulders, collarbone on display for you.
Your stomach churns as the sight of Scara teasing the hem of his top, his hand sneaking underneath all while maintaining eye contact with you before finally letting it fall off.
You breathe out audibly through your nose. Scara sitting atop your bare legs was almost enough for you to cum right then and there.
“Scara,” you whine, “This is unfair.”
“Watch.”
So you did.
Scaramouche was always snarky and playful when you both grew overly competitive while playing video games, but now he moved diligently, not letting you get a single touch.
He moves his head down and brings your hand to his lips. You both make brief eye contact before his lips meet your palm, trailing kisses alongside it before bringing your index and middle finger into his mouth.
Your gaze hardened as he swirled his tongue around them and pulled his lips back, a trail of saliva in his wake.
You’d had enough of just watching by then, moving your hand from his grasp to grab the back of Scara’s neck before you tug him close. Your eyes meet for a second before your lips do. His kisses weren’t gentle but they weren’t rough, it was possessive to an extent and it had you tugging on his dark locks rather harshly.
The position was awkward on the small chair with your bodies angled towards one another, but that didn’t matter since all you could focus on was the pair of lips moving against your own.
He pulls back, sucking on your bottom lip as he did so.
“How bad do you want this?” he mused, his voice a shadow of his usual condescending tone.
“Please,” you breathe, a heat pooling in your stomach as Scaramouche pulls off your shirt with expertise. It had you a bit envious to see him do it so quickly but that feeling dispersed when you felt Scara’s warm hand palm your chest as he took his cock out, now sitting ready against his stomach.
Without warning he shoves his fingers roughly into your mouth, the tips of his fingers just reaching the back of your throat.
“Spit,” he ordered, his dick still sitting straight up.
It was odd being given orders for once but you didn’t push it away as you did what you were told. Once again, a string of saliva left your lips as he pulled his fingers away. Instead of bringing it to your hole immediately, he brought it to his lips, his tongue licking around his own fingers and the remnants of your saliva while maintaining eye contact.
Within a blink, his fingers were inside you and your body surged with pain as two fingers went in and out of you. Your hands gripped the seat’s armrests as Scaramouche didn’t show you mercy and quickened his pace, his head coming down to suck the skin on your neck.
You bucked your hips up as Scara’s fingers went in and out, matching your rhythm. Your right hand found Scaramouche’s back as you steadied himself, dragging your nails across it as you did so.
Your neck was littered with his marks as he lifted his head once more, inserting a third finger with a gleam in his eyes.
Your sweats and underwear were pooled by your feet and you felt on display as your camera was only a few feet away, but you didn’t care at all as the pain seamlessly transformed to pleasure.
You reached down to use your free hand to pump his cock, body jerking this way and that as Scara had to keep himself steady which only made you go faster.
“I didn’t say you could do that,” Scaramouche teased, lifting his lips from your neck and removing your hands from his cock. He removed his fingers from your hole, much to your dismay, and dragged them along your cheek, your own juices staining your face.
“Stay still like the good whore you are,” Scara hummed, inserting his fingers once more, you could only buck your hips up in desperation for any friction. You could feel your hole tighten around Scaramouche’s fingers and a feeling rise from your lower region.
“I’m gonna cum, Scara,” you groaned, the material of the leather chair digging into your skin. Your eyes fell shut as you felt Scara slow down his pace.
“I can't have you do that so quickly,” your boyfriend murmured, removing his fingers slick with your insides and moving away.
Scara removed himself from your lap and got down on his knees once again to spread your legs open.
“Have to prepare your tight hole,” he murmured, voice muffled as his head was in between your legs. You felt his tongue slide up your thigh, leaving a trail of kisses until Scara reached your hole. His tongue swirled the edge, slowly and knowingly, as you let out a cry of pleasure. The feeling only increased when Scara traced a wet circle around the rim just before he dipped his tongue in.
Before you could release right then and there he removed his mouth from your hole and sat back up, crawling atop you and lining his cock with your hole.
“Fuck,” Scara groaned as he slid in, his cock inside you. The tip of his hard cock made contact with your entrance, unprotected.
Scara let himself simply sit inside you as you grew used to the feeling, not thrusting just to edge you even more.
“Are you gonna be good for me and be loud?” Scara asked, taking his belt from the floor of your room and snaking it around your neck. “Hm?”
“Yes,” you whimpered as Scara clasped the belt around your neck. He grabbed the loose end and used it as a leash to tug on it and bring your head closer to him.
“Good,” he praised, one hand on the belt and the other on your waist, “Nice and loud.”
You didn’t get a chance to respond before Scara was pulling out only to slam right back in again. He rocks back and forth as he does so, his nails digging into your bare waist. It was difficult to control yourself when Scara was buried so deeply inside of him.
You moaned in arpeggios as Scaramouche lifted himself out of you once again, his tip trailing the inside of your thigh only to thrust back into you again. It was rough and harsh, just like you both preferred it to be.
“I’m gonna fill you up at this rate,” Scara muttered, causing you to buck up your hips to meet Scara’s with every thrust, “You’re ruining me.”
Your head was tugged from the belt Scara held in his hands, your faces a mere inch away from each other when Scara locked your lips together. You felt the taste of metal as Scara’s tongue explored your mouth, the knowledge of the male above you having a new piercing only fueled your desire.
You could feel your orgasm nearing, your hole was tightening around Scara’s dick. You were just a hole at that moment and would let him do whatever he wanted to you at that point. The sounds of skin on skin filled the room as he kept slamming into you.
You pulled back, a string of saliva connecting your guys’ lips as Scara’s head tilted back.
“I’m gonna fill you up to the brim,” was the last thing you heard as Scaramouche rode out his orgasm. Your hole clenched as you felt warmth ooze inside of you, causing your eyes to fall shut and legs to tremble.
Scara slowly pulled his cock out of your entrance, cum spilling out as he wrapped his palm around his cock to get the excess cum off. Once Scara’s fingers were covered in white he reached up to shove his fingers into your swollen lips.
You were in a daze as you tasted Scara upon your tongue, swallowing every last bit as your lover tucked his cock back into his pants before looking down at your lower region.
“I can’t allow your filthy cum to get on your nice seat,” Scara slurred as he leaned towards you while inserting two of his fingers once again into your hole, “It cost far too much, how would I explain that to the cleaners?”
Scaramouche snickered as he pushed in the cum threatening to spill out of you with his fingers, “Would I tell them my little slut creamed all over it?”
You cried out at the overstimulation instead of responding, not like you would be able to since your mind was clouded. Scara’s words only sent trembles up your spine and down to your sex which was even wetter if possible.
“Excited…again? Already?” Scara asked, looming over you, “Didn’t know the Stardust was so easy?”
“Please,” you whined, wanting to finish yourself off, the stimulation was too much, even for you.
“You didn’t get to cum yet, think of this as your reward,” Scara said, removing his fingers and grinding against your sex.
Scara’s hips moved fast and it didn’t take much for you to release right into Scara’s lap. You were ashamed at how quickly it had taken you but your boyfriend just had that effect on you.
“A little pathetic at how quickly you came,” Scara scoffed, dragging his palms sullied with your cum across your bare chest, “Are you that much of a whore?”
You could only nod as the sticky substance dripped along his skin, your sex drained as Scara cleaned off his fingers, each one leaving a resounding pop. He dragged his fingers across your chest and swirled them around your nipples, moistening them before pulling back.
“I think you should sit in your mess until your next stream,” Scara teased, reaching down to grab his boxers and pants that were pooled on the ground and hoisting them back on.
You swallowed as Scara pulled your sweats up your legs and tied them for you. You could feel your wet sex against the fabric of your underwear. You were still full of Scaramouche’s cum and it felt warm as you squirmed around in your seat.
Unlike the sex they just had, Scaramouche was gentle with the way he undid the belt adorning your neck and rubbed at the red ring now encircling your neck from it. It had left red marks along with the love bites littering your skin. It felt sore but you wouldn’t have had it any other way.
“Sorry,” Scara apologized as he did so, trailing his fingers against your neck then proceeding to grab your top from the ground, “Looks like it’ll take a while to heal.”
“Don’t be, I quite liked it,” you assured as you pulled the shirt over yourself as Scara pulled you off your chair. Your legs felt weak as he did so but Scara caught you and left a short kiss on your lips.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Scara drawled as he pulled you close, his lips now by your ear.
“Shower?” he murmured, and you could hear the smirk on his face.
“Fine,” you huffed, pushing him off of you,
“But now it's my turn to do what I want.”
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behind the lens !
masterlist — prev | next
author’s notes — i didnt know how to end it 🤞 hope u enjoyed it sorry it’s kinda freaky and i beta read it myself so ignore any mistakes if any. also stop asking for updates! writing is my hobby! go touch some grass! also probably 1-2 chapters left depending on how i feel xx
synopsis — you, better known as STARDUST, and BALLADEER have always been in competition for the top streamer spot on twitch, which is especially impressive since the two of you have never shown your faces. you’ve never been on good terms, constantly one-upping each other in matches and getting into petty arguments on twitter, causing your fans to also dislike each other. that’s until BALLADEER does a face reveal that breaks the internet with his good looks…which makes you realize it’s the same guy you went on a date with last night. the type of date that made you crave to see him again. the only problem was he didn’t know you were STARDUST and he was way different behind the lens than he portrayed himself online to you. should you keep your identity a secret to salvage the relationship or just let him go?
taglist is closed — @captainzep @elysiumarchieve @plinkuro @sakkakuu-squared @eliqusgenma @vuvulia @kunikuzushiit @ins4nebish @stxrgxzxr @lilacponds @uma-umie @mitsukifilms @caesars-bubbles @wheneverthesunrise @its-like-twilight @kazuhalvrr @erosdevil @thenightsflower @p1utto @noodleshark420 @lxry-chxn @court-jester-stuff @lauragalliart @veyu002 @kaeyas-eyepatch-69 @leathernourishingshoepolish @courtneydefender @drunkwithfever @exhaustedcommunist @vincanzu @ainlaw @ovaliz @kitsuvil @whatamidoing89 @celestair @kunihaver @kazioli @xiaosoneandonly @cridtiins @cherrybeomgyu @asukahiriko @moon-320 @orionicchaos @cartierfiles [1/3]
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lacroixwh0r3 · 10 months
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In a Good Way
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Farmer!Abby Anderson x Housewife!Reader
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Summary: You help Abby relax after a long day on the farm.
Warnings: SMUT!! a little bit of fluff, oral (a recieving), fingering (a recieving), hair pulling, kissing, mommy kink, orgasm denial, petnames, switch!Abby, switch!reader, squirting, spit, overstimulation, and a lil degradtion
Song inspo: Kingston by Faye Webster
A/N: I tried to keep it sweet and cute and then I just completely went off the rails with this...oops!
Also I hit 700 followers on here...wtf thank y'all so much! it is so amazing to be able to share my stuff on here.
And ofc, like, share, reblog, and comment.
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Abby had finally finished up the last thing she needed to do around the farm before she headed back home. When she looked at the time on her phone, she realized that she was going to get home early.
As soon as she pulled up to the driveway of her home that she shared with you, her excitement grew. Abby knew that you were most likely cooking some delicious meals for dinner as well as dessert to have afterwards. She hated having to leave you all alone in the house while she was away working. Every morning at 7 a.m., she got dressed for the day, and you would lay in bed looking and beg her to stay even though you knew she couldn't. She would tell you how much she wishes she could, then place a soft kiss on your lips and make her way out the door.
Oh, but the look on your face when she got home made it all worth it to Abby.
When she left, you found things to do around the house to occupy your time. Some days you would clean around the house, make a quick trip to the local farmers market to pick up some things, read, paint your nails, or count down the hours until your wife got home.
You have to admit that it was sometimes lonely when Abby wasn't around, but you didn't really mind it. She tried to encourage you to go out and make some friends, but you refused. You were never good at making friends, and you were okay with being alone. Being alone allowed you to have time to do whatever you wanted without being judged by other people.
Abby calls out your name but gets no response. However, she did hear the sound of soft music playing from the kitchen and you singing along beautifully. The smell of whatever you were cooking made Abby extra hungry as she tiptoed her way to you.
"I didn't know that I was capable of being happy right now, But you showed me how"
She stopped at the door and noticed that your back was turned to her as you swayed your body and stirred the pot.
Behind you, you could hear the familiar sounds of Abby's heavy boots coming up behind you slowly. You try to hold back a giggle because you know she is trying to scare you. You could feel her body close behind you as you kept on moving your hips softly to the beat.
"Hey, baby," You say with your back still facing her.
"How the fuck do you do that? I can never get you," Abby playfully scoffs as she brings her hands onto your hips and presses her body onto yours. Both of you were now swaying together to the beat of the song.
"Because I know you and all your tricks, abbs," You chuckle. "You can never scare me." Abby lets out a soft hum as she kisses the back of your neck and up to the back of your ear. You leaned your head to the side, allowing her better access as your body relaxed into hers and your eyes closed.
"You make me wanna cry in a good way"
"I missed you so fucking much, baby." She whispers into your ear. You shivered as Abby's hands began to move toward your stomach, pulling you further into her hard body.
"I miss you too, sweetheart," you breathe out dreamily. You had missed Abby so much today that all you wanted to do was stay in her arms forever. "I was thinking about you all day." Abby places a kiss on your ear.
"Mm, yeah? My beautiful little wife was thinking about me today." You didn't even realize that you still had the wooden spoon in your hand until you dropped it into the pan of mashed potatoes. You spin around and wrap your arms around Abby's neck, as one of her hands is now sitting low on your back and the other is placed in the middle of your back.
All you could do was stare into her eyes before you began to speak. "You don't understand how much I think about you every day, darling," you confess to Abby as you place a gentle kiss on the tip of her nose. "It's been a year since we got married, and I still can't believe you're mine, Abby." You tell her breathlessly. Her freckle-covered cheeks turned a deep red as she blushed.
"Baby, I should be saying these things to you," She tells you as she brings her face close to you without any hurry. "Beautiful." She whispers before her lips fall on yours.
The kiss was soft. Neither of you rushed it, as you both took your time and savored each other. You were addicted to the taste of Abby's soft, pouty lips and the taste of her mint chapstick that she always put on.
"You weigh just as much as me, don't you I can feel it when we touch"
Your hands grip the back of her neck as the other tugs at her messy blonde braid. Abby moaned into your mouth as you kept tugging and as she leaned in, making you bend back a bit. You feel her hand, which was placed on your lower back, now go down to your ass. Abby kneads at it as she continues to kiss you.
A minute later, you both pull away from each other simultaneously, breathing heavily.
As you both stare and caress each other, you give her braid one last tug as you stand on your tippy toes and go to kiss the bottom of her chin. Her fingers were still kneading into your cheek. "Why don't you go take a shower? Dinner should be ready as soon as you get out; is that fine with you, baby?" You ask her as you rub the back of her neck.
Abby gently nods her head as she replies, "Okay, baby. Thank you so much." She leaves one last kiss on your head as she gives your ass a quick slap and makes her way out of the kitchen.
All you could do was bite your lips and shake your head while observing her ass and thighs in her tight cargo pants.
...
After Abby's shower, she somehow convinced you to ditch dinner and sit with her for a little.
"Baby, I'm not even that hungry, honestly. I just wanna hold you." She says as she sits on the couch, pulling your waist so you can sit on her lap. Rather than sitting sideways on her lap, you adjusted yourself so that you were straddling her.
You knew she was hungry, she was just coming up with an excuse for you to join her.
"Abby, I know you're lying, babes." You tell her, looking deeply into her blue eyes as you push away some of the loose hair that came out of her braid. Her hands came up to your waist and held onto it.
Ugh, whatever, but I still wanna be here with you right now. I feel like we barely got to see each other this week," Abby confessed. You nodded your head and let out a hum, letting her know that you agreed.
Instantly, a thought popped into your head. "You know what, Abs?" You looked at her with bright eyes, seeing that she was already looking down at you with a curious look on her face. "You've been working really hard at the farm all week, and I think you deserve a break, don't you think?"
Abby briefly thinks about it: "Uh, I mean, I guess, sweetheart, but it's going to be really hard to find someone to take care of everything..." As much as Abby would love to spend the day with you, she knew that in order to get the job done the way she wanted it done, she was going to have to be the one to do it.
"Abby, please take the day off..." Your hand drops into your lap and slides up her shirt so you can feel her. "For me, baby," you murmur in a low voice. You observe her eyes as the soft look that was once there has quickly been replaced with a desirous stare.
"You slutty girl, you just want me to take off so I can have my way with you and make you cum all day, hmm?" Abby looked into one of your eyes, down at your lips, and back up to the other eye. All you could do was nod your head, unable to articulate the words.
Her words were vulgar, but she made them sound like the sweetest thing on earth with her soft voice.
The girl lets out a hum before she can say anything else. "Fine, I'll see what I can do." She places a quick peck on your lips and begins sensually gliding her fingers up and down your waist, inching close to your ass. You arch your back into her strong one, making your whole body tremble with nervousness and excitement. Your head started to feel fuzzy.
Even after years of knowing Abby and being very intimate with her, you still get nervous around her at times. It was easy for Abby to detect your nervousness without you saying anything. "Aww, am I making you nervous, my love?"
"You always make me nervous, Abs."
"Yeah?"
You nodded your head, leaned forward, and wrapped your arms around her neck. First you stroked the back of her head, then you pulled her braid down, making her head lean back into the couch.
You couldn't help yourself whenever she had her braid in. Something about the hairstyle invited you to pull against it, which Abby didn't hate. As a matter of fact, Abby loved it when you pulled her hair as she ate you out.
You bent your neck down and began to lick on the sensitive spot on her neck, making her grip your waist tighter and your hips thrust up to your clothed core.
"Oh, this feels so good, my girl." She whimpers softly. "You're making mommy feel so good."
Her words made you suck and lick her neck more. You wrapped her hair around your fist to help hold her in place. Abby trembled with pleasure as her throat released a sexy moan. With each suck on her neck, Abby could feel the sensation shoot down her body, making her clit throb.
"I wish I was fucking your pussy right now," she confessed. "I'd pound that pussy so good while you suck all down my neck." You could feel her throat vibrate with each word.
You continued your assault on her neck for a little while longer until you unwrapped her hair from your fist, stopped sucking, and leaned off of her body. She released your waist, stretching her arms on the top of the couch as she looked at you and bit her luscious lips. "Oh fuck me, baby. You look so delicious right now." You groan before grabbing her chin to look at her neck. The redish, purple hickey on her neck caught your eye. "This will let everyone know you're mine. You're my wife only, right?" You asked her possessively.
She nodded her head as soon as you asked her, "Forever, I'm forever yours, baby. Only yours."
"Good." You say as you place a quick kiss on her lips.
You never doubted Abby's loyalty at all; she never gave you any reason to question her—you just liked hearing her tell you.
"You want me to go up the stairs and get the strap, baby?" She asked. You shook your head at her, causing her to slightly frown.
You absolutely love it when she fucks you with the strap, but tonight you wanted it to be all about her. You wanted to show her how much you appreciated her.
"No, I wanna make you feel good, my love." You tell her before pushing yourself off of her lap and sitting down next to her. You were balled up into her side; your feet were folded up on the couch, and your right hand sat on her lower stomach. You noticed that her pants sat low on her hips—she didn't have on her underwear, and your fingers were just a couple of inches away from her pussy.
"Can I make you feel good?" You whispered to her as you looked up at her to see her already looking at you. Her eyes gazed at you as she took in your appearance.
"Baby, you don't have to do that, you know," she pleaded, making you scoff at her.
Abby is a stubborn woman; she's always so hard to persuade, even if you're practically begging her.
"I know, I don't have to do anything," you bluntly tell her, "but I want to."
The hand that once sat on her lower stomach was now gathering the spit from your mouth and about to slip into her pants before you looked at her again. Abby sat there agape with anticipation, ready to see what you were going to do. "Is it okay if I touch you, baby?" You asked her before touching her.
She wildly shook her head until she realized that words weren't coming out of her mouth. "Y-yeah," She stammers.
With that, you slide your hands deeper into her pants, feeling the light fuzz of her hair, and dip your spit-coated fingers onto her clit. You feel her strong arm bring your body closer to her tense one as she shakes and gasps. She was already sopping wet without your spit.
Her eyes flutter closed, while yours are still stuck on her face. "You're so wet, mommy. Tell me when I made you this wet." You moaned out as you rubbed lazy circles onto her throbbing clit.
"When-" She tries to speak but is interrupted by her own moans. She bites down on her fist as she tries to gather her words and stop herself from moaning.
You didn't like that, though; you loved hearing her pretty moans.
"Put your fist down; I want to hear all your beautiful sounds. Now, tell me what made you so wet, mommy." She instantly dropped her fist as her grip on your shoulder tightened.
"When you-oh my god-when you licked my neck and gave me a hickey," she said as you used your middle finger to flick her clit back and forth in a fast motion, making Abby try to grab at your hand. She didn't know what she was feeling right now. She wanted you to stop, but she also wanted you to keep going. She wanted to cum and lose her mind at the same time.
As she inched closer to her release, she whispered, Don't stop, in your ear, but that didn't stop you from teasing her, so you gradually slowed your pace on her clit and completely stopped. Just as fast as the feeling came, it left just as quickly after you slowed down, making Abby narrow her eyes at you and snarl.
"Aww, you were gonna cum? Hmm, baby?" You tease her as you pull out your hand from her pants and stick your fingers into your mouth, tasting her saltiness. You made eye contact with her as you sucked on your finger.
"You're such a tease, you know that, right?" She breathes out.
You just let out a laugh as you popped your finger out of your mouth. Abby suddenly moved her arm around you and got off the couch, leaving you confused. She then began to strip herself of her pajama pants, leaving her nude from the waist down. You couldn't help but kiss her pelvic bone as she stood tall in front of you. You swipe your pointer finger through her wet slit, making her weak to the knees. Before she could go down, she staggered and grabbed your shoulder tightly.
"N-no touching yet, sweetie..." She scowled at you and said, "You're gonna get on your knees and eat my pussy like a good girl, okay?" You nod your head at her as your eyes trail up her body, stopping at her face. She released your shoulder, stroked your cheek, and faintly muttered good.
She sat down on the couch, scooting to the edge so that her bottom was halfway hanging off. She sat there with her legs wide open, practically inviting you in. You just sat there, taking in her appearance, until she snapped you out of it. "What are you waiting for, baby? Get on your knees."
Without any hesitation, you dropped to your knees and positioned yourself between her legs, just a few inches away from her pussy, which was glistening from her wetness. You gawked at the view in front of you as your mouth watered, still tasting her juices on your tongue.
"Are you alright?" she asked you, making you look up at Abby, who had her eyebrow cocked up with amusement. "You can have a taste if you want," she encouraged you. However, you didn't need much encouragement.
With that, you leaned forward, feeling the heat of her body as you got closer, and licked up her wet slit before wrapping your lips around her clit and sucking. Abby let out a gasp, holding her breath as she silently uttered, Oh my god, with a strained expression. She was about to reach for your head before she tried to grasp the cushion of your shared couch. You can hear her scratch at the polyester as her dull nails slide across it.
You dug yourself deeper between her legs, swirling and flicking your tongue around her clit. You could feel her arousal spreading across your face, including your nose. "Just like that, baby, keep eating mommy's pussy," she said, breathing hard. You felt yourself grow more and more greedy for her; you wanted to feel her against you, but you continued on pleasuring her. "You love tasting me, huh, beautiful?"
You loved it more than she could know; seeing the way she squirmed and moaned as you ate her out did something to you. It made you feel feral.
You let out a deep moaned around her clit, making her convulse at the vibrations. Abby's eyes squeezed shut as her jaw went slack before you released her clit from your mouth with a faint pop. You watched her sigh out as her eyes opened. She looked down at you with twinkling eyes and let out a chuckle. "Oh fuck, look at that messy face," she cooed at you. You licked up some of it that sat on your lips.
"It's so good, mommy," You moaned up at her.
"Yeah? Well, why don't you have some more?"
You nodded as you went back to licking her pussy. First, you nibbled at her lips, licking them and sucking. She enjoyed it for a little before she let out a frustrated grunt due to the lack of stimulation.
"Are you gonna keep teasing me, or are you actually gonna do something?" She said. You let out a soft laugh at her frustration, causing her to mutter fine as she grabbed onto the side of your head and shifted her hips so that your mouth went onto her clit. "Now eat." She demanded.
Right when she said that, your lips began to suckle on her pearl gently, making sure not to do too much. She pulled you in more as she grinded her hips, loving the way it felt when her clit when released from your mouth and sucked back in. You tuned out the sounds of your slurping as you were focused on making her cum.
"My good little slutty wife, look at you," she sighs out as you lap up her juices, "a-always taking care of me." You tried to keep your eyes open to watch her, but with her words and delicious taste, you couldn't help it.
You began sucking harder, making her body tense and her legs clamp around your head, but you quickly grabbed her inner thigh. You allowed your drool to flow off your tongue as you ferociously ate her cunt, making her more soaked.
"Gonna cum, baby! I'm gonna cum all over that pretty face." She moaned loudly, making you moan as well. "I'm cumming, oh fuck!" Her body was still tense, but now she was shaking—she cursed out and moaned your name as her cum gushed into your mouth. You swallowed it while some of it dripped down your chin.
You eventually pulled away from her pussy once her orgasm died down. Her breathing was loud as she lay there with her eyes closed, trying to catch her breath. Her loose strand of hair was stuck to her now sweaty forehead, looking beautiful as always. You just sat there between her thighs as you whispered, It's okay.
Finally, Abby took one last deep breath before opening her eyes, looking down at you, and letting out a chuckle. "I needed that," She said. Her hands rested over top of her t-shirt-covered stomach as she relaxed on the couch.
"I can tell, baby. You okay?"
"I'm more than okay," she said as she smirked at you, making you giggle. "Now can I fuck you? I wanna make you feel good."
"Nuh uh, Ms. Anderson, not tonight." You tell her as you place kisses on her inner thigh. Her body began to squirm, but she still kept her composure.
"It's actually Mrs. Anderson," she corrected you with her perfectly shaped eyebrow arched as she raised her left hand to show you her ring. "And why not, baby?" Her previous expression dropped quickly as she pouted.
"Because...I wanna keep tasting you tonight," you try to tempt her as you place your kisses closer to her pussy. It was working because she sucked in a sharp breath and bit down on her lip.
"You think you can cum one more time for me, mommy?" You asked her as you planted a kiss just above her pussy where the hair lay, on her soaking lips, and on her clit. She just nodded weakly as she watched.
You placed one more soft kiss on her clit before starting your attack again. You began to eat her out as if you were tongue kissing her plush lip. "Fuck, what has gotten into you, sweetie?" Abby moaned.
You groaned onto her pussy while bringing your fingers up to her pussy and teased her wet hole. You realized that you caught her by surprise because her body jolted. Once you slithered your finger into her, you began to move it in and out of her while servicing her clit with your mouth. You can feel her walls squeeze around your fingers.
"You're gonna make me cum already."
"Give-give me your hand so I can hold it while you make me cum," Abby sputtered out. You reach up, with your left arm resting on her thighs and stomach as our hands intertwine. Abby's stomach, as well as yours, flipped—there was something so mushy yet arousing about it. Seeing and feeling her finger rub against the ring she had given you did something to you. You move away from her pussy with your teeth lightly grazing against her clit. You slowly pulled your fingers out of her, then began to rapidly rub her pussy, making sure to focus on her clit.
"I-I'm cu-oh my god, I'm cumming." Her moans became uncharacteristically high, her legs got wider, and her grip on your hand tightened. Your arm began to ache as you continued your movements, but you had no plans on stopping.
"Cum for me, Abby; cum all over my hand, beautiful." You egged her on. You felt her squirm, trying to get away, but you pressed your wrist down on her stomach. Her face got redder and spread down to her neck.
"Shit! If you keep going, I'm gonna-" Her words were cut off as her eyes rolled to the back of her skull. Suddenly, her wet sounds got louder, and liquid began to gush from her, causing it to go everywhere. Down your arm, on your face, on your shirt, and all over herself. Some of it had even gotten on the couch, leaving a large wet spot, and on the carpet.
We're definitely going to have to get a new couch now.
"Oh!" You squealed out in surprise, continuing to rub against her clit. "You're squirting so much, baby!" It made you giddy that you were the one doing this to her.
Her body trashed around and trembled as she tried to speak, but she couldn't, so you decided that she had enough and stopped. You got off your knees and sat on the couch next to her before pulling her head into your chest. Her arms immediately wrapped around you. You could feel her quivering and breathing hard into your chest as you stroked and kissed her head.
"You did so good, baby," you murmured to her, rocking her back and forth.
You both stayed like that until she cooled down. You heard her say something, but you couldn't hear her, so you asked her to repeat herself.
"I can eat your pussy now," She said as her words were muffled into your chest.
"No, Abby. You need to rest."
"But I—" she tried to get out before you interrupted her.
You rolled your eyes. She was being stubborn again.
"No, plus you'll be home all day tomorrow, so you can do whatever you want." You smirked, making her smile into your chest, and said true in agreement.
It went quiet for a while until you felt Abby's breathing even out and her body slump against yours. She was asleep. You just shook your head, knowing she had been tired all along.
2K notes · View notes
simpjaes · 6 months
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i try to not indulge in the idea of stepcest cause it feels so wrong but i need to admit to someone that it’s just so…mmmm. it’s a guilty pleasure soooo let me send this ask before u go crazy heehee
stepbro jay would be one of those guys whose so respectful and nice to everyone but really he’s the worst. during your first family dinner after you and your mom move in with him and his dad, he sits right next to you and keeps his hand on your thighs while laughing with his dad and your mom. later on in the night he comes to your room pretending he wants to talk to you but he actually has you face down ass up, with your face shoved in a pillow so your moans and screams are muffled. he’s so arrogant and mean to you because you’re just an easy access fucktoy for him 🤭
sorry this is being answered so late! anyway, i get that you feel like it's wrong but here on this blog, we support fiction being like, yknow, not fuckin' real.
wc: 1.6k
note: jay and reader are in college living with their good ol' very in love parents. warnings: stepcest, jay is kinda rough lol, use of the word slut
step bro jay appearing like the perfect son and the perfect brother for you?? Your mom always thought you needed some type of male energy in your life that didn't involve boyfriends or her failed boyfriends, and she was really happy to learn how much he enjoyed being around when she and jay's dad eventually got serious and wanted to settle down.
it was a win/win. Your mother no longer needed to overwork herself to take care of herself and you, and you now had someone to lean on too.
And lean on him you did.
What your mother didn't know was the instant attraction you had to Jay. You're a young woman after all, freshly twenty two and so fucking ready to mingle since your last boyfriend was an awful lay. God, if only you had met Jay before your mom fucked his dad. like, for real.
And what Jay's dad didn't know is that he raised an absolute slut. Jay knew the moment he laid eyes on you that he would be encouraging his father to keep it up with your mom. Why? So he can be around you, of course, so he can see if you'd be willing to let him play with you a little bit.
Now though? he's learned that you're moving in alongside your mother and he didn't protest for even a moment. Hell, he practically moved you into your new room himself, trying to officially get on your good side since by this time, the two of you have only gotten to hang out five or six times, and never alone.
~
The first time Jay cornered you was a little surprising, as you thought you were the only one with a sneaky little crush on him. You remember it like it was yesterday (because it was like the same night you moved in).
He was moving the last box into your room as you sat on your floor organizing a small box of knick knacks. Your mother was outside with his father attempting to move in a large vanity that both you and Jay knew would take some time without their help.
"You seemed excited when they told us you were moving in--" Jay starts, sitting down the box and standing in front of you, looking down at you until you make eye contact. "Why?"
You shrug, blinking up and tilting your head.
"It's just nice to see her happy, I guess?" You offer.
"Bullshit, I've seen you checking me out." He says snidely, crouching down to your level and swiveling his head a bit to get a real good look at your face.
Before you can deny it, he smiles and continues.
"You know, I'm kinda into it."
And then he walked out, leaving you there with a crush that grew just a bit more.
The second time he cornered you was after a shower, shortly before one of your classes started. He stepped out of his room the same time you stepped out with dampened skin sticking to your t-shirt. No pants, no bra, just the shirt and panties.
You really should have considered that you live in a house with men now. It doesn't matter how early in the morning it is, anyone could be awake. And of course, Jay was awake.
He stopped in his tracks to check out your legs. Entirely blatant about it before walking up to you. You stumbled back a step, straight into the bathroom as he continued to walk closer and closer. Up until you were against the counter, he was smiling, and then brushed his hand by your waist to grab his toothbrush behind you with a small and cocky whisper of "god, you looked so ready for me to do something else, didn't realize you were that desperate."
So, that was something that stuck in your brain for like, way too long.
The third time was when he did do something else. Your mother was at work, his father too, and you had just gotten home from class. Normally, you've learned that Jay takes classes much later than you do, but he was home today.
God, he was definitely home.
With his hand down his pants.
On your bed.
And, well, you can argue that's probably the moment your crush on him crossed a boundary that would never be spoken of. Because what you did was blasphemous. Your parents should have known not to move in together with two horny college students in tow. Honestly.
You still remember the way his hands felt up your shirt, offering him a bit more than just his imagination there on your bed. He touched you a lot that day, and in turn you touched yourself twice as more on his bed just a day later.
So, that leads to tonight's dinner. Again, the first real dinner you've gotten to have as a "family" and all you can think about is the way your mom dotes on Jay for being such a good, protective brother. And how his father dotes on you, for being such a good influence on his son....despite his son's hand squeezing your thigh as he accepts the compliments and dotes on them right back.
"Thanks for making my dad happy again." "Thank you for always cooking the best meals." "Thank you for making the house look like a home."
God, you roll your eyes at him, really. Because you've already grown accustomed to the dirty, fucked up things he says to you when the two of you are alone. That hand on your leg further proves that he's full of shit and he knows you love it.
The worst part is that you do. Despite telling him that night you let him touch you that it would never happen again. Despite him not knowing that you have had at least three orgasms against the very pillow he lays his head on at night.
Anyway, it's wrong. And you continue to brood over the fact that you genuinely can't let yourself be weak again around him. No matter how much you want him, no matter how much he appears to want you.
He knows you set a boundary last time, and since then he hasn't approached you again until now, with his hand squeezing up your thigh until you jolt under the touch and alert your mother.
You dodged her questions, swiped his hand away, and finished your meal as quietly as you could before immediately heading back to your room.
"What's up with her?" Jay's father asks, looking at your mother.
"I'm not sure..."
Jay stands up, smiling genuinely and innocently at both of them.
"I'll go talk to her. She mentioned something about a fight with one of her friends the other day. She's probably upset about it or something"
The parents beam at him, despite his blatant lie as he makes his way to your room.
And, well, you're bad at keeping your own boundaries apparently because the second he walked into your room was the second you fell apart. As if his hand on your leg didn't already have you crumbling.
"You're too obvious." He scolded. "I just touched your leg, relax. At least let me get something out of this if you're not gonna put out for me after all that from before." He continued.
You just sat there staring at his angry whispered words.
"Jay--" You started in a half moan, but he continued.
"What's so bad about wanting to fuck anyway? You're right here, and you want it. I mean, look at you." he waves his hands at your body, and the way your fingers are clearly inside of yourself. "Me touching your leg has you up here trying to reach places that only i'd be able to reach."
"Then do it--" You cut yourself off this time, moving your fingers and scissoring them open in hopes that he would really give it to you despite your protests from the last time.
He's so fast with it too, grabbing you by the ankles and pulling you down the bed before shoving you to roll over. There, you immediately arch your back and perk your ass up at him. He shakes his head in pity, but the smirk on his lips tells you that he likes it. He probably loves when girls do this for him. And he reacts even more to it by pulling the loose shorts down your thighs, and then spreading your legs.
"Fuck, I knew you'd let me." He praises himself more than you. "Put your fingers back in, let me see what you what you were doing up here all by yourself."
You found yourself listening instantly, sliding in two fingers and hiding your face in your pillow. This only pushes him further, glancing up at the way you hide from the act, then licking his own fingers and sliding them in along side your own.
"What would your mom say?" He laughs, lifting himself now and placing his hand on the back of your head. "Hm? Do you think she'd be interested to find out how much of a slut her daughter is?"
All you can do is nod brokenly against the harsh feeling of his palm against your head, and the way he slides his fingers into you, forcing pressure on your own.
"You're gonna take it, right?" He continues, watching those broken nods continue before he's pulling his fingers out of you, pushing your face further into those pillow, and shoving his pants down just enough to get his cock out.
"Yeah, fuck, look at it. You want it so bad." He seethes out through gritted teeth, staring at the way your needy cunt clenches around your fingers in reaction to the loss of his. Then he's slapping your wrist to remove your fingers and immediately pushing into you. Giving you exactly what you want, and all of that.
He's such a good brother, for real.
There, he doesn't relent or let you breathe even for a moment. All you can hear is ringing in your ears and the sound of him grunting out words of, "god, you're so fucking tight." and "dripping all over me, you really thought I'd stay away?" and "yeah, fuck, just take it."
And you do. You take it. Biting into the pillow through the pleasure and immense guilt of loving the way your strep brother's cock pulses inside of you. Loving the way he fucks hard and fast. Loving that he slides in deep every fucking time.
So much for talking.
Then again, you clearly weren't in the mood to talk anyway.
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reminiscingtonight · 6 months
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The Talk
Alessia Russo x Williamson!Reader
Word Count: 1.3k
A/N: A short one for our Arsenal girls' win
[WOSO Masterlist]
Leah’s not stupid.
Leah may be rash, hard headed, and a little reckless sometimes, but she’s not stupid.
It’s obvious how something has changed with you. You, her sweet baby sister, went from watching trashy TV on the couch with her most nights to not even bothering to stay home after practice anymore, always sneaking back into the house at early hours of the new day when you think she’s still asleep.
Leah likes to think she’s a good sister. Someone you’ll always turn to if you need help or if you have anything you want to share with her. 
But obviously what she likes to think can’t be further from the truth because two months pass and you’re still sneaking around, taking muted phone calls around the corner, never spending more than a few minutes alone with your sister anymore. 
Leah likes to take pride in her observation skills. But honestly she can point to your inability to be subtle that helps her figure the whole thing out. It begins as pink cheeks whenever a certain new striker comes near you. The eyes that linger too long when you are all in the gym together for a quick weight training session only adds on to her suspicions.
Leah has also noticed the way long limbs often trail after you, stumbling into the nearest bin whenever you laugh at a not-so-funny joke made by the girl in question. Alessia’s often found sat near your side whenever the girls have a movie night, or whenever the lot of you go out for a meal together.
Leah considers her suspicions confirmed when you disappear after a night out at the club with the rest of your teammates and Alessia is also conveniently missing as well. 
So, the next day after practice, Leah decides enough is enough. No more sneaking around, no more lying. She was going to take matters into her own hands and put an end to everything. It’s about time she lays the hammer down, even if it comes at the risk of you hating her. 
The opportunity arrives when Alessia is called away to the physios. Leah lingers in the hallway after practice ends, pretending to busy herself as she awaits the striker’s return. When Alessia finally finishes her session, she’s walking down the hallway, head down, entranced in her phone when a hand shoots out, gripping tightly against her forearm and yanking her into a nearby storage closet. 
The shriek she lets out quickly dies when she meets the familiar eyes of her national team captain.
“Leah!” Alessia gasps, trying to pull in a breath of air at the surprise. 
Leah’s eyes narrow at the younger girl, hand only tightening its grip against her arm. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Russo. Because I definitely do, and I have to say, I’m not amused so far.”
“I…” Alessia trails off, trying not to look too rattled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Watch your next words carefully, Russo. I don’t take well to liars,” Leah warns, voice dangerously low.
Alessia’s mouth clamp shuts. 
You warned her about this. On your first date out, you warned Alessia about how protective Leah could get. 
“I think we should wait to tell Leah. There’s no telling what she’ll do.”
So she agreed, not thinking much about it. 
Until she got the offer to play for Arsenal. And then her access to you was unfiltered and oh-so easy. 
Where the two of you used to be so cautious about not letting anything slip, faced with the ability to see each other whenever you wanted was just too good of an offer to pass up. So gone were the nights you’d entertain Leah’s want for sisterly cuddles. Gone were the days you went out for after practice smoothies, relishing in some quality time with your sister. Now you go out on dates with your girlfriend because you can. You can take her to all the places around London, take all the time you want mindlessly strolling about just because you can.
Though now that Alessia is thinking about it, maybe the two of you should have tried a little harder to hide your relationship. Because faced with a slightly fuming Leah Williamson glaring down at her, Alessia has the sinking suspicion she’s not getting out of here alive.
“You’ve been keeping (Y/N) out until the late night hours every night. I oughta have you benched for the next couple games just for that.”
Alessia’s eyes widen even more in fear. Did Leah actually have the power to have her benched? Alessia has no idea. But she’s not willing to flirt with the idea. 
“I love her, Leah. I really do. She… she makes me feel things that I didn’t think I ever would.”
And once she starts, Alessia can’t stop. 
“I would never hurt her, I hope you know that. I feel so lucky every day that I get to call (Y/N) mine. I thank my lucky stars that she chose me because I think she can do so much better. I wake up every day so in awe of her and I love her so much that sometimes I feel like I can’t even breathe. I love her every single second of every single day, and I’ll continue to love her until we either break up or I die because let’s be real I’ll probably keep loving her even if we ever do break up. Not that I want to break up with her though! I would never break up with her,” Alessia rambles on, not seeing Leah blink as she slowly becomes overwhelmed with the amount that the younger girl is saying.
Leah didn’t really come into this thinking too much. Her goal was to scare the star striker a bit, but the younger girl’s word vomit of appreciation for you, though lovely, is a bit unexpected.
Alessia also seems a bit taken aback herself, face steadily reddening as embarrassment floods her system. 
Alessia doesn’t have much time to think it over though. Suddenly the door beneath her back disappears, light flooding into the room as the two of them go toppling out of the closest. 
Leah swears when she crashes to the ground, Alessia’s bony frame not doing much to cushion her fall. 
When Leah looks up, she finds you staring at the two of them, mouth slightly agape in confusion. 
Alessia pales when she realizes it’s you who opened the door. She scrambles to push Leah off of her, the older girl glaring at her as she lands on the cold hard ground. “It’s not what it looks like.”
Leah, on the other hand, simply rolls her eyes before getting onto her feet. You’re watching with wide eyes as she comes to a brief stop in front of you, pausing long enough to brush the lightest of kisses against your cheek. 
“She passed the sister test. I approve.”
She pinches your cheeks between her fingers as an afterthought, and your look of confusion quickly turns into a scowl as you swat at Leah’s hands. “Leah Cathrine, get your grimy hands off of me.”
“Bring Lessi around for dinner some time, yeah?” With one last loving pat, Leah gets on her way, leaving the two of you to stare after her as she slowly turns the corner.
Alessia nervously rubs at the back of her head when you turn your gaze onto her. 
“What did you tell her, Less?”
“I…” It’s times like these that Alessia can really see the resemblance between you and Leah. Narrow eyes full of suspicion but still filled with love. Alessia hedges her bets that you love her more than you’ll dig for answers. 
“I love you?” The words are paired with an unconvincing smile, Alessia not eager to repeat her word vomit.
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thisismeracing · 2 months
Text
You wear the hat | LN4 (Patreon Exclusive)
read the full piece here
― Pairing: Lando Norris x reader (she/her) ― Warning: +18 work; mentions of alcohol; fictional Austin podium; a bit of jealous!reader; graphic description of sex (public sex, handjob, and thigh riding); MINORS DNI! 1.2K words ― Summary: During the celebration of Lando's podium, someone decides to be a little too friendly with the congratulations. You wouldn’t let slip the opportunity of reminding them that he’s your boyfriend even if it meant getting too handsy in public. As the saying goes, it is always good to save a horse in favor of riding a cowboy – especially if that cowboy is Lando Norris (based on this ask/blurb).
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preview
You saw how he politely declined her touch, and how she kept talking and grabbing his bicep. He looked for you through the drunk crowd and when his eyes found yours he seemed to plead for help. Lando wasn’t frankly fond of being rude, he could be here and there, but it was not something usual or that left him pleased afterward. In this case, you knew he was trying to keep his cool because maybe –just maybe– that was an overly excited fan unaware they were crossing a line. This was not an unusual scenario. 
You smirked, making your way to him when he was finally able to show her no attempts would work. When you passed by her on your way to Lando’s table, you politely complimented her before reaching the table and sitting on Lando’s lap. It was dark, and he was in a private corner, but since she followed you with her eyes, she could see the moment you sat on him and turned to kiss his lips, making a show out of it, turning your boyfriend on.
[...]
“You’re so dirty,” he whispered, and you could almost feel his wicked grin on your hot skin.
“You’re flexing your thighs for me to ride, and you’re whimpering on my ear while I give you a hand job, I think you can be dirtier, love.” 
And, oh, how Lando loved this defiant and sinful side of yours. 
Lando reached for your shirt, moving his hand under it and expertly dragging down the cups of your bra to play with your pebbled nipples. He pinched, and twisted them between his thumb and pointer, whispering how he could feel your arousal through the layers of your clothes.
“I had no idea public sex turned you on.”
“Shut up, and make me cum, Lando,” and though your voice was strained with need, he was the desperate one, he was the one who moaned and dropped his fingers into your cunt to feel your wetness and play with your swollen clit.
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weebsinstash · 4 months
Text
What do you MEAN the early access episodes of hazbin hotel are pre-orders that were limited quality and are sold out now?? 😫 you can't dangle something in front of my face and then take it away and tell me I have to wait 😫
Even that Vox vs Alastor song I linked before is hard to find on YouTube! Spindlehorse (totally justifibly i mean) is being really aggressive taking down clips people are making and uploading and I'm getting CRUMBS of these episodes and my impatient ass can't take it
I know I've been, you know, thirsting for Valentino but, now that we've seen more of him.... VOX THOUGH! The charisma! The panache! The style! The BEEFING with Alastor!
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It's kinda too old for me to go searching for the link (someone found it for me, mid pencil art alert lol) but now I'm thinking of that one idea I had in the past where Val and Vox meet you in a bar/club and start bonding and thinking you're actually pretty interesting and you eventually pepper in these "my boyfriend doesn't let me-" kind of statements, and they're both, jealous af, but, you know. Don't wanna rock the boat and chase you off! So they kinda just keep hearing all these details, "oh, my boyfriend doesn't like me going to these kinds of places, I have to lie to him" "oh, you know, hubby doesn't like me drinking, so I have to sneak around" "ugh, my baby never wants to have fun like this"
I just picture now it evolving into a plot where you're fucking sick of your old fashioned BORING boyfriend who won't let you break up with him, literally you tell him you're done with him and he keeps showing up saying you're together, won't let you out from under his thumb, and you finally sidle up to Vox, "listen dude, I'll be real with you: I think we can help each other out"
I just see Reader doing the most petty shit because you want this stag GONE and you're full of anger and spite. Alastor is walking down the sidewalk thinking you're like, at book club with the gals, and suddenly he walks by a TV on display and here's Vox, "- and here with us in the station today is a very special guest-" and THERE YOU ARE, getting interviewed about being the partner of the Radio Demon!
"So, toots, what's it like, shackin up with Alastor?"
"Oh, you mean what is YEARS of no sex, no TV, no video games, and no weed like? I'd kill myself but I kinda already did that!"
"What, you mean you don't like dating some limp dick old timey FUCK?"
"Not as much as I've liked hanging out with you ;)"
All the radios in town are blaring deafening ANGRY static for hours while you and Vox are getting high and eating cheeseburgers and playing Monster Hunter somewhere while Valentino thinks about "acquiring you" as a little ~companion~ for his man (and maybe himself) right here and now since you two are already so cute together ❤️ I mean, they were already gonna scoop you up anyways, so he might as well rush the process, right?
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jarofstyles · 9 months
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Letting Loose
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Another installment of best friend’s dadrry!!
Now.... Listen. It's filth. Straight up, but their dynamic is building so you can see some stuff starting... hehe. PLEASEEEE let us know if you want more of them. xoxo 
Check out our Patreon for 100+ exclusive writings and early access!
Part 3
Reminder that Y/N is an adult and met him as one too <3
warnings- smut, choking, spit play (sorta), daddy kink, age gap, degradation, name calling, mention of ex, jealousrry, forbidden/taboo relationship, breeding kink xoxo
----
Y/N knew what she was doing.
She was taunting him. Teasing him. Making him mad. Harry was a possessive man, and both of them knew it. He had declared her body as his multiple times, now becoming every time they had sex. And ever since Lia had gotten a girlfriend, she had been out of the house a lot more- which meant that Y/N had been in the house without the risk of her friend catching her on her knees for her father.
Harry was a generous man in all capacities. He had let her stay when her apartment flooded, had always provided food and paid for her when they all went out, left money out for them to order pizza, even paying for their trip to Cancun after graduation. But it seemed his generosity knew no bounds when it came to Y/N, unfiltered.
His hands snuck underneath his shirt, mouth connecting to her bruised neck as she finished applying her nightly skincare. Lia had gone on a ‘mountain retreat’ with her girlfriend last night and wasn’t due home for another 4 days, which Harry was taking full and complete advantage of.
With an empty house, having Y/N there felt a bit like a different universe. Harry had been indulging in his touches, grabbing at her and pulling her into his lap, swimming with her in the pool, holding her to his chest while she made breakfast. He was borderline clingy, but he knew that’s how he was when he liked someone. Attached at the hip.
When he got his divorce, he had strayed far away from this sort of thing. He had his one night stands but ultimately had decided to lay off if anything romantic since his marriage had ended up being a disaster. Lia had been the one good thing to come out of it- and he knew he was playing a dangerous game, sleeping with her best friend, but it was more than that.
That was something else that scared him. This girl, this sweet woman who had come into his life in such a way that should make him take 10 steps back, had him closer to her than ever. Closer than he had allowed himself to be with anyone else. She was just… refreshing. Invigorating. Their conversations had been enjoyable pre-sex, her mind always impressing him with the things that came out of her mouth- but now that he got to see her with almost no boundaries? His admiration for the woman had increased tenfold.
Just laying in bed talking, bringing up moral questions and things that she believed, their fingers lazily linked together as she talked with her hands and moved them about- it was one of the things he loved the most. Then there were moments like the current one, where he hadn’t given her a moment alone in the bathroom.
“H, please.” She hummed, taking the peach face toner and placing it down. “You’re making me spill.” His mouth on her neck had distracted her from the task at hand, shakily applying the toner to a cotton round as she tried to finish her routine before moisturizer. It was a very strict and thorough one.
“M’sorry.” He sighed, pulling away from her neck but making no motion fo take his hands out under her shirt. Her skin was warm and silky, stomach clenching as his hands sprawled out over it. “Just… gets to me when I see my marks on you.” He rested his cheek against hers, looking at their reflection in the mirror.
While it was apparent that he was older than her, they looked.. good. He had been surprised the first time he saw it, how she had melted into his grip and blinked into the reflection with a nod. It didn’t look like a father and daughter- thank fucking god- but it looked like they were a good looking couple. One that people would perhaps understand the gap considering they were both good looking and Harry wasn’t an old bag quite yet. He did have some graying at the temples, but Y/N had let him know how much she liked the idea of him being a ‘silver Fox’.
“I know.” She peeped, looking at them in the mirror. A dark mark resided on the curve of her jaw, the other hidden under the skirt and on her thighs. “Can’t be so careless when Lia gets back, though. Unless you want me to make up a whole story about some guy I’m seeing again. We both know how much Daddy doesn’t like that.” Her tone was teasing, a faux pout taunting him about the subject.
So, maybe, possibly, he had fucked her within an inch of her life the last time she had used that excuse. That she had blamed it on one of those stupid boys she met at the bars and said they’d gone out and done the deed in the car when in reality, the origin of the marks had been from a few days prior when she had been at Harry’s office riding him on his couch. Risky, all things considered.
His jaw set as he pulled his hands out from her top, turning her around so he could look into her eyes. “None of that. You don’t have to get so… detailed in those stories either.” He huffed. “We both know that none of those boys could give you half of what Daddy gives you. None of the orgasms, none of the pretty gifts, none of the sweetness. So I don’t want t’hear about these fake hookups.”
Y/N liked this. When he got huffy and possessive, when he got the fiery glare and clenched jaw. She loved to taunt him and make him show her just how much he hated it. “No? Those boys can’t give me what Daddy can?” Her fingers trailed over his chest, tapping over his necklace. “That’s what your appeal is, isn’t it? Being a real man. Giving me all the things they haven’t gotten the experience to do. Even if it makes you a dirty old man to show me, you will.” Her eyes sparkled with mirth, fully expecting the next move.
Harry grabbed her hips and hauled her up to sit on the sink top before tangling his hand in her hair. “Watch it.” His warning made her shiver slightly, head tilted back by the firm grip he had in her hair. “Just hours ago you were on your knees begging for this ‘dirty old man’s cock down your throat.”
Y/N keened, a giggle leaving her throat as she grabbed at his shirt and pulled him closer, legs spreading so he could stand in between them. She loved to rile him up, to watch the flame burn inside of him. Getting his possessive reaction, this jealousy fueled her. She wouldn’t go off and do anything with anyone else- there was no desire or reason to. Harry had fully satisfied her every need. It was just nice to feel desired. To see him bristle at the thought of anyone else touching her because he wanted her all to himself. “I did. And I enjoyed every second of it.” Her voice was still slightly hoarse from the act. “Don’t need to get so jealous. You know I will end up with you. M’just covering for all the marks you’re giving me.”
“Don’t like thinking about it. Y’go out and reject all of them, I know you do. But the idea of it irritates me.” He exhaled, feeling her slightly damp fingers brush under his own shirt. Her head tilted back, her face bare from any makeup and glowing from the rigorous skincare routine she had just performed and pouted slightly up at him. “Don’t give me that lip, Petal.” His thumb caught it, tugging it down slightly before it snapped back into place. “Just like it when you remember that you’re Daddy’s girl, is all.”
The softened tone made her stomach dance, leaning into his hand with a content sigh. He took such good care of her. Y/N knew that she was playing a risky game but this sort of shit was worth it. “I am. M’your girl.” She peeked up at him with her own hazy eyes, letting her fingers catch on the waistband of his shorts. “Are you going to show me that I’m yours?” Dipping them in, she felt the prickle of his hair. Neatly cropped, trimmed to perfection, he kept just enough that made her mouth water. Enough to tickle her nose when she was able to get him down all the way.
“I’m going to make sure you remember for days, sweet girl.”
—-----
The sound of skin slapping filled the warmly lit bedroom. His bedroom was a sanctuary, somewhere off limits for anyone besides him- and much to anyone else’s surprise if they knew, Y/N. Soft, warm light emanated from a vintage lamp on the bedside table, casting a gentle glow on the room while Harry looked down at the girl sprawled out underneath him, clutching the white sheets he had spent a stupid amount of money on. He only wanted the best for her and her body. Knowing she would be staying the whole week, sleeping with him the whole week, he had made arrangements to have the best of the best. To show her what was possible.
“There you go, baby. Just like that.” The depth of his voice made her shiver under him. Her cheek was pressed to his pillow, knees up and back arched as Harry took her from behind. It was the second round, her body deliciously sensitive but aching for more. Aching to please him and make him let loose on her body. A large, warm hand held her waist as he guided her back on to his cock, watching as she fucked herself on him. Pressing back into him and filling herself up, letting her ass hit his hips and ripple and move just the way he liked it.
“S’good?” She mewled, eyes hazy as she stared vacantly across the bedroom. “You like when I do this? Just want t’be a good girl for you, Daddy. Want you to feel good.” Her voice was wrecked, slurred as she had her cheek smushed against the softness of the icy white pillowcase. Her mouth watered, sure to drip in a little bit, but all the girl could do was take it. Sex had never been this good with anyone else in her life. The older man knew exactly what he was doing and how to do it.
Harry had always been such a patient, calm, controlled man since she had met him. Never raised a voice, never did a single thing inappropriately. He had played all the right cards, but since she had seen him again and everything had changed between them, she could see another part of him. A part she was desperate to help let loose.
The older man had a wildness, a depth to him that was unexplored. A taboo part of his desires that he had never allowed himself to look at. Y/N could see it, could feel it unraveling with each day she spent with him. She made him feel safe but invigorated, which was exactly what she wanted to do. This was something so wrong in theory, but it felt so right. There was no way his hand fit that perfectly on her waist for no reason. She had taunted and tugged at the seams keeping his deepest, darkest desires hidden, trying to unravel them for him. To fulfill the pieces he didn’t know had been missing.
“I do, baby. You are a good girl, my good little girl. Make me feel so fucking good. Never get enough of you, always want you with me. Want to be inside of you every single fucking day.” The man knew that if he had his own way, she would be the one he woke up to every morning and the one he went to sleep with at night. This entire week of playing house had woken up a bigger urge, a primal urge for the girl. An ownership. He was greedy and selfish, but he was loving every fucking second of it.
“You can. You can fuck me however you want, do whatever you want to me. Anything in the world. I just want to make Daddy happy.” Her voice was whiny, face rubbing against the pillow he slept with as he watched her ass recoil with each throw back of her cunt. His cock was glistening with her arousal, wet and slick from her past orgasm. She was going to have bruises on her hips, on her thighs, on her breasts from his handling of her. There would be no denying the fact that she had been fucked deep and thorough, that he had spent time and effort into making her writhe underneath him. “I’m your girl. You said it, I’m all yours to do whatever you want. Be dirty with me, Daddy. Let go. Fuck me how you want.”
Harry didn’t know how else he could want her. This much was a fantasy come alive. The sweet, tight cunt clenching over his cock was heavenly enough. Her encouragement didn’t stop, though.
“Know you're holding back from me. Tell me how much you love it. You love fucking tight, young pussy? You like the change from soulless sex with your ex wife who could barely get you half hard?” Her giggle was cut short by a harsh slap to her ass, the sting making to fall into a moan. “Mm, fuck. I love that. You do, don’t you? Know that it’s risky but you like being inside of me. M’the best pussy you’ve ever had. Admit it.” Y/N’s panting words had him clenching his jaw- mostly because she was right.
He had gone from subpar, emotionless sex to this. To an exciting, adventurous, dirty woman who he most definitely shouldn’t be sleeping with but was too addicting to the heart and to his cock. A woman he liked too much to call a friend with benefits, but was too risky to publicly announce as his girlfriend- even if he desperately wanted to.
The words had a thread snapping, his body crowding hers as he pressed his chest against her back as his cock continued the deeper thrusts, knocking her thighs together a bit more as he covered her body with his own. His hand fell flat against her pillow, a deep chuckle leaving his lips- one that sent a dangerous zing up her spine.
She had done it.
“You are. You’ve got the best cunt I’ve ever fucked, the best mouth I’ve ever fucked, and as soon as you let me in that pretty little ass? That will be mine, too. Most useful set of holes that’s ever walked through my door.” His rough tone had her moaning, success spreading through her body as his opposite hand that wasn’t keeping him up slipped under the pillow to grab her throat. “Been so nice to you when you just antagonize me. You want me to be really dirty, baby? My sweetheart wants to hear what really goes on in my mind every time I see her?”
“Yes, yes, yes. Please, Sir. Please. I want to know everything.” She was showing her hand, showing exactly how badly she wanted to know what went on in his head. “Tell me. Tell me, I wanna do it all for you.” Y/N would love it if he was a little mean, if he was a little more rough. She knew he treated her delicately because of who she was but that was exactly why she wanted him to lose it. “Treat me like your holes, Daddy.”
Harry had been slightly shocked at the words, though he shouldn't have been. Y/N had always shown that she was a dirty girl, but the depth of it was still to be discovered. It obviously went past a bit of exhibitionism.
“My sweet girl wants to be treated like a set of holes?” He laughed breathily. “Fuck. What am I going to do with you. Silly, silly girl.” He tightened the grip on the sides of her throat, feeling her squeeze around him. His thrusts increased in speed, weight bearing down on her to make her feel him everywhere. He wanted her to be engulfed in him.
“Every time you walk in that fucking door, I want to drag you away. Want you hanging off my cock every time I get the urge, because I know you’d love it. Been dirty since day fucking one, dragging me into that poolhouse and making me be a bad father. S’that what gets you off? Fucking your friend’s dad?” He snarled, breathing against her ear as his balls slapped against her cunt, getting them just as wet as he wanted.
“Y-yes, Just you, Daddy. Only ever you.” Her weak reply came out, hand covering his that held her throat. Her eyes rolled back into her head as he gave it to her good, a new level to their activities unlocked. She had peeled back another layer of the man.
“Better have fucking been. But I know you’re a slut. Just for me. S’only ever been just for me. Just like you said, hm? Needed an older man to give it to you and then you got addicted. Poor little girl. Addicted to the one cock you shouldn’t crave.” His faux sadness made her whine, slickness dripping out of her cunt. The sharp thrusts and his tight grip, how she could barely move was one of the best things she had ever experienced.
“It’s mine.” Was what escaped her. The little thing had enough energy to say that, the stimulation to her body and the slap of his balls against her clit driving her dangerously close to her second orgasm of the night.
“Is it? Oh, silly little girl. What a desperate, selfish slut. You want my cock to be all yours?” He grinned against her skin, biting against her neck as he groaned. “It can be. You can have it. Drain me so fucking good, take all my cum so well, hm? S’what you deserve. Be a little set of holes for Daddy to stuff his cum into. You’re so good at it a-already. Fuck.” He hissed as he felt her cunt contracting, close to her orgasm. He could feel it, feel how close he had gotten her.
“You’re going to cum from that? God, look at you. Thought you were such a nice girl when my daughter first brought you home. Now you’re just a pretty cunt for me to cum inside. Think m’gonna keep you, though.” His prick was so wet it almost slipped out as his hips slammed into her, her quivering cunt urging him on. “Think I should make you stay. Should get my cum nice and deep and knock you up. What d’you think?” His grunted words sent her into a squirm, nodding reverently against his hand.
“Yeah- yeah, I’d want it. Can do it, keep me.” She babbled, eyes watering as she felt completely and utterly pathetic. The larger man was giving it to her just how she needed, the lightheadedness of his fingers rhythmically squeezing her neck and his dick fucking her better than any other thing she had felt having her right on the edge.
“Yeah? Gonna take my cum and give me a baby?” He laughed, drunk on pleasure. “That’s it. M’gonna do it. Drain my cum into your pussy and mark you as mine. Let it catch, let you get full of my baby and let everyone fuckin’ know who’s girl you are. F-Fuck, baby.. Please.” He grit out, mouth opening as he felt it. He could feel her falling over the edge, a broken moan escaping her swollen lips as he body squirmed underneath his own.
She gushed around his cock, whimpering out his name as the words and his actions had her falling over the crest. The slick, filthy sound of her drippy cunt being pounded by his cock and the grunts coming from the man above her filled the room as she could feel him finally starting to crack. His arm quivered, cock twitching in her pulsating pussy as he finally unloaded inside of her.
“Oh- oh my god, fuck.” He slurred out against her shoulder, biting down and getting a squeal from her as he growled against her skin. The most feral he’d ever been. His thrusts slowed but didn’t completely stop, Harry hellbent on fucking his cum as well into her as he could. He wanted her filled. Releasing the skin with his teeth, his tongue ran over the bite mark in apology, a grove of whispers growing from his lips.
“There we go. That’s my fucking girl.”
“Took me so good.”
“Wrecking me, m’so obsessed with you.”
“So proud of you.”
“Take such good care of me, sweet girl.”
They were followed with kisses, Harry lazily turning her head and connecting their mouths despite the odd angle as he finally stopped, letting himself stay buried inside of her. He could feel she had drooled a little bit, fueling his ego as he let them both cal down from the aftershocks of their orgasms.
“Mmm.. That’s what I’m talking about.” Y/N giggled tiredly, resting her cheek back against the pillow as he stroked the sweaty hair away from her face. “Told you I wanted you to let loose, that’s what I wanted. My god.” It was so good, she felt drunk. Drunk on good dick, apparnetly.
“Yeah.. well now you’re in trouble.” He mumbled, though the smile on his face indicated it wasn’t seriousl. “Didn’t know I had that in me… But now that I do, you’re the one who’s going to have t’deal with it.” He kissed her cheek, smirking to himself about how it had been so good she had let tears fall. This was a new high for him.
“I better be. We established that I’m yours and you’re mine. If I find out otherwise, m’gonna chop your dick off.”
Harry winced, shaking his head quickly. “No, baby. No. Don’t think I could get hard for anyone else at this point.” It was too true.
This girl had him completely and utterly fucked.
“Let me sit here for a minute and then I’ll take us to clean up. I’ll help you redo all your skin stuff.” He nuzzled against her cheek, placing a few little pecks on the hot skin. “Sorry I ruined it.”
“Trust me- I am never going to be mad at you for that when you fuck me that good.” Y/N snickered. Her heart did swell at the offer though. This man was unreal. “I’d be a fool to complain.”
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hanafubukki · 1 year
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I Suddenly Became the Mother of the Red-Rose Tyrant?!
Summary: Well, fuck, somehow you isekaied and became the mother of Riddle Rosehearts
Characters: Riddle Roshearts, Reader, & Clover Family.
Notes: I have been reading way too many isekai Manhwas/Mangas. Not only that, but I saw a fanart of little Riddle and his mom and was inspired right away. This is a long fic, it’s been awhile since I wrote something so long so I am proud. 💕🥰💜
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·      When you had opened your eyes one day, you had woken up in a bedroom that definitely wasn’t yours.
·      The room was…meticulous, and that was putting it lightly.
·      Even your bed, while comfy, had a feeling of order to it; daring anyone to mess it up.
·      You should probably be more anxious over your new surroundings but waking up well rested in a while just mellowed you out.
·      That is until you got up and looked at a mirror, finally seeing the truth of the matter.
·      Well, fuck, you really did isekai to another world.
·      Maybe reading all those manhwas and mangas were not a good idea.
·      You glance at the mirror one more time and this time your appearance caught and held your attention.
·      You reached up and pulled at your…bangs.
·      They looked to form two heart shapes.
·      It was kind of cute.
·      The person whose body you had, well, she looked tired and stressed.
·      Lady, you need to relax once in a blue moon.
·      Wait…a minute, no, no, no. Heart shaped bangs? The only character you knew that had heart shaped bangs were...
·      “Mother?”
·      You turned around and right at your door, dressed prim and proper, was a tiny Riddle Rosehearts.
·      Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
·      You were isekaid into Mrs. Rosehearts.
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·      After you had gotten your bearings, you had told Riddle to go study and you would prepare him food. He had simply nodded and did as you asked. No protest against studying so early in the morning or any mention of hunger. You knew his past, of course you did, but seeing it firsthand was another experience all together. Seeing his response to the request you made? It burdened your heart even more.
·      As you made his breakfast, you had some time to yourself which you used to sort out your situation and feelings. Your memories before coming to Twisted Wonderland were still intact; you just didn’t remember how you ended up in this world, let alone in Mrs. Rosehearts body.
·      Of whom, her memories you had full access to as well. it was as if you lived two lives together. If it wasn’t for little Riddle in the next room, you would be tearing your hair out because, of course, you would be in this situation.
·      Looking through her memories, you can see why Mrs. Rosehearts had turned out the way she did. Generational trauma and unrealistic expectations seemed to run in the family. Which in turn led to her actions towards Riddle, and of which, led to Mr. Rosehearts walking out of their lives. He didn’t even fight for custody of his own child, the influence of Mrs. Rosehearts being too great.
·      Generation trauma that you could have prevented from continuing, Mrs. Rosehearts, but now it’s up to me.
·      You ended up taking a tray of food to little Riddle, with enough food that a child his age would eat and then some. At least with these memories retained, you also knew everything Mrs. Rosehearts did, and unlike the MC in Twisted Wonderland, you also had her powers as well. Which, given the game’s events, would come in handy in the future.
·      Right now though, as you opened the door to the study, you would do your best to raise your son right and well-loved.
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·      One of the first changes you made was decreasing his study time and allowing him the chance to play.
·      It didn’t go as well as you expected…Riddle had frozen and started shaking to your horror. Mumbling about doing better and how he could handle extra studies if you wished it of him. You had a feeling that he thought it was to test him and his dedication.
·      You had to calm him down and prove otherwise.
·      Giving him a dedicated set time to study, and just as much time to play. You would even join him. Drawing with him, putting together puzzles, and even playing in the backyard. You had even gone out and bought him a ball that you two threw at each other.
·      What warmed your heart the most was when you baked him a strawberry tart and gave it to him with a warm glass of milk. Your tart wasn’t the best with the crust crumbling, and you should have probably let it cool a bit more, but the shining eyes and wide smile from Riddle was more than worth it.
·      You patted him on the head as he scooped another piece into his mouth.
·      You loved your son.
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·      The next step in providing a healthy lifestyle for Riddle was making sure he had friends.
·      Which meant, you had to repair the relationship Riddle had with Trey and Che’nya.
·      It wasn’t easy, especially having to muster up the courage to look into Trey’s parents’ eyes and apologize for actions you did not commit.
·      But you were determined to give Riddle a good childhood and that meant him having friends his age and hopefully lowering his chances of overblotting in the future.
·      Riddle was quiet on the day you both went to the Clover’s bakery.
·      But you took a deep breath and patted him on the head.
·      “Everything will be alright, sweetheart.”
·      Riddle didn’t say anything and just nodded.
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·      You had chosen to meet Trey’s parents at closing time, and you had given them a call ahead of time.
·      When you met them, you could tell they were nervous and bracing themselves.
·      Little Trey looked ready for a fight.
·      You had to hold your smile in.
·      You ended up bowing to them and apologizing, which you could tell freaked them all out.
·      Riddle was surprised and grasped at your dress, worried.
·      “I am very sorry for the way I treated you all before. I know my words might not make up for my past actions, but I do hope you will forgive me in time.”
·      Mr. and Mrs. Clover looked at each other before tentatively accepting your apology.
·      “Mrs. Rosehearts, might we ask why the sudden change.”
·      It was Mrs. Clover who had spoken up.
·      You smiled and put a hand on your son’s head.
·      “I have been trying to raise Riddle the only way I knew how. I had let my past and expectations I have lived through blind me. I realized that was wrong, and I want to change that. I want my son to be happy and loved like he deserves.”
·      The Trey family seemed to relax after hearing your reasoning, but you could tell they were still on guard.
·      You didn’t blame them, but you hope in time, they will trust your words.
·      You crouched down to Riddle’s level, looking at him with a gentle look.
·      “I want to show my little one that adults can be wrong, and they can change. I want to show him that I love him, and I am sorry. I am so, so sorry. I love you and I hope you can forgive me too.”
·      Little Riddle was trembling, and tears were dripping down his face.
·      You opened your arms before he rushed into you with all the force his little body can muster.
·      You hugged him just as tight, holding your own tears in.
·      You got up with Riddle in your arms, rubbing his back as he cried and clutched on you tighter.
·      You bowed your head to the Clover family once again before looking at Trey.
·      “I hope you, you other friend, and Riddle can be good friends.”
·      Trey looked a bit nervous before nodding slowly.
·      You thanked them before returning home.
·      Humming a song to little Riddle and kissing his head.
·      You were determined.
·      You would make sure Riddle Rosehearts grew up loved and happy.
·      And as thoughts of the Twisted Wonderland plot came into mind.
·      You would make sure he was safe.
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How did you all like it? Would love to hear your thoughts 💕☺️
Tag List (open): @justeclem44​ @coraldelusiondaze​n @h0n3ysgh0st​ @thatdazaikin​ @strawberry-pie-thoughts​
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