#like no they’re still creeps your weird fuck

[reginaphalange2403]

Taylor Swift with Dear John, Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve and All too well. Demi lovato with 29. And now Olivia Rodrigo with Vampire.

Challenge: Hollywood men stop going after young women who are over a decade your junior.

Level: impossible

[nottsangel]

— artrick and camgirl!reader ੈ♡˳

moodboard

it began as just a quick way to make some extra money during college and nothing more than that. you were a bit apprehensive at first, aware of the risks and consequences of someone finding you, but eventually, you started to find joy in it, especially because you received a lot of attention— even more than the other girls on the same website. people, who where mostly older men, started to like you, and money began to pour in like never before. but no matter what, you had to keep it a secret from everyone.

yet, patrick who scours the whole internet for porn that matches his specific taste, managed to unexpectedly find you while you were live. he almost couldn’t believe his eyes— his best friend, with her legs spread wide as she touched herself and loud moans escaped her mouth. and god, the way you moaned sounded so angelic, with your pretty, soft lips parted in ecstasy. he simply had no other choice— he had to tell art.

“i swear to god patrick, i don’t wanna see those golden shower porn videos again.” “just, trust me, you’re gonna wanna see this.” patrick insisted as he opened his laptop. he glanced at the time. 10 pm. that was usually when you came online on thursdays, because yes, patrick had already watched you so many days in a row, he memorised your streaming schedule. “who are these girls?” art questioned with a raised brow, puzzled as to why patrick would show him random camgirls, until he noticed he noticed you— fully naked while you held a vibrator against your swollen clit, causing his eyes to widen as he leaned closer to the laptop screen. “holy… fuck.” “yup. i know.”

and that’s how it all began. now, every day right before you would come online, patrick and art would sit impatiently next to each other on the bed, eagerly waiting for you to go live. “you think she’ll use that pink dildo again?” art asked patrick with clammy hands resting on his knees. “god, i hope so. that one’s my favourite.” and when you finally appeared on screen, a smirk spread simultaneously across both boys’ faces as they stared mesmerised at the screen, quickly adjusting their positions as their pants grew uncomfortably tight.

it was somewhat odd— it almost felt like video calling with you, as if you were touching yourself just for them, until they were hit with the harsh reality of the comments and countless men thirsting over you. the wave of comments flooding in during your streams, especially when you would interact with them, evoked a complex mix of emotions in patrick and art. they were consumed by jealousy— they wanted you for themselves, and they hated the fact that others could see what they saw. “jesus, these men are fucking desperate.” art exclaimed while reading the quick-paced comments with an unamused face. patrick shook his head in disapproval as he let out a chuckle. “i bet they’re all jerking off while watching her, fucking creeps.”

and ultimately… they found themselves becoming what they once criticised the most, as they’re now shoulder to shoulder in art’s stanford dorm room, hands tightly wrapped around their throbbing erections as they pumped it quickly. “this, uhm… this isn’t weird, right?” art questioned, his breaths coming in quick pants as your moans echoed through the shitty speakers of his cheap laptop. “no, no… i mean, we’re looking at her, right? nothing weird about that.” patrick reassured art as his eyes stayed fixed on your movements, and art nodded in agreement.

and even now, as they masturbated not only on their own to you but together, while watching you strip and bring yourself to your orgasms over and over again, they still hung out with you as usual. you noticed a change in their behaviour though— you couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was, but they seemed more, nervous around you. you brushed it off quickly though, thinking it was just you. but little did you know they were indeed nervous to be around you now, as their eyes scanned every inch of your body covered in clothing, knowing that they had seen all of it— all of you, naked.

“do you… do you think we should tell her? that we know?” patrick asked art as they were once again, sitting in art’s dorm room, their hands lazily pumping their cocks. soft fucks and oh my gods slipped from your lips and resonated through the room along with the buzzing sound of your rose toy, which was the usual on fridays. “i mean, yeah, we should, eventually. maybe… uhm, next week… or something.” “yeah, yeah. next week.”

ੈ♡˳

🏷️ tags: @maizweig @swamp-box @oceandriveab @starkeysprincess @unhingedbanks @imawhoreforu @mcugirl @skylerwhitwyo @maybankswifey @hearts-4-kai @takaosin @imbabycowboy @badesire @parkerloves @diorrfairy @jizzlle

[bbyhellfire]

curiosity gets the best of eddie when he finds your hitachi (18+ only)

perv!eddie munson x fem!reader, eddie has a bilbo baggins 'why shouldn't i?' moment, male masturbation, prostate stimulation, imaginary bj and p in v, unrequited love, he's gross and pathetic and lovesick (don't use your friend's sex toys w/o their permission), no beta this is not that serious

Eddie could qualify for the Olympics with the amount of hoops he’s jumping through.

He gets it. Laying naked in your friend’s bed as you debate whether or not to use their sex toy is not a good look. But it’s not like that, okay? 

Listen.

First of all, he did not break in. He’s staying at your apartment to watch your cat while you’re out of town. Him lounging in your bed isn’t weird, it's expected.

He wasn’t snooping, either. He was searching. After spending the day hunched over a Ford Taurus, his aching back was demanding he find that bottle of ibuprofen you kept on your nightstand. And when it wasn't in its usual spot, the only logical next step was for Eddie to check your nightstand's drawer. And he did find the ibuprofen, thank you very much. He just also found something else. 

It was hard not to notice. Not just because Hitachi wands are bulky, but because it was sitting right there in the open. No clothes or knick-knacks to hide it, just...there. And he knows what it is. He's seen enough porn to know when he's face to face with a Hitachi.

See? He's not some creep who can't control his crush. He wasn't looking for your sex toy, it found him.

And he tried to forget about it. Really. Slammed the drawer closed so so quickly he almost smashed his fingers. He even took a long, ice cold shower to keep himself from chubbing up. Thought about anything and everything except for his recent discovery– car transmissions, his next DnD campaign, Wrestlemania, Wayne's mug collection, anything to get his mind off of you. Which is easier said than done when he’s using your soap to scrub away the car grime and shame.

It's no wonder his cock remains semi-hard for the rest of the evening. He discovered his crush’s vibrator. Who moves on from that? Like, are you really pining over your friend if you aren't hyperfixating on their sex toy?

Besides, Eddie is a naturally curious person. He’s seen his fair share of porn and all the actors seem to have a grand ol’ time when there's a Hitachi between their legs. He wouldn’t mind trying one himself, but they’re expensive. Sure, he’s got a stable job at Thacher Tire, but he’s not in a tax bracket where he can drop $100 on casual curiosity. 

But now…

It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity, he reasons, thumb ghosting over the power button in debate. That logic is how he ends up in his current position – naked in your bed with his cock resting against his tummy as he inspects your wand.

It’s heavier than he imagined, the noticeable weight only rivaled by the angel on his shoulder yelling at him to put it back. But it's your toy. He's had a crush on your longer than he'd like to admit. And no matter how many times Steve pushes him to ask you out, he's certain you don't feel the same. You're just friends, and this might be his only opportunity to know you on a more intimate level.

A fucked up, kinda gross and intrusive opportunity, but still. Beggars can't be choosers.

And right now, Eddie can't help thinking how it's oh so very interesting that you left your wand out in the first place. You knew he’d be staying at your place, sleeping in your bed. There was a chance he’d stumble across it. You could have made an effort to hide it, but you didn't. You left it there for anyone to see, for Eddie to see. 

Did you want him to find it? Did you want him to think of you using it?

Because if that was your plan, it's sure as hell working. His last functioning brain cell work to conjure up various images of you laid out in the very spot he is now in, pleasuring yourself until your whole body shakes and your thighs are drenched.

Wait, could you squirt?

The women in porn usually squirt. Even the men come so hard it hits the ceiling. He shifts in your bed, imaging the pretty green sheets beneath him soaked with your juices as he brings the wand closer to his face.

The buttons are a little faded and there are some tiny scratches, but no major signs of use. The wand is clean, and obviously cared for. Which now has Eddie thinking how long you've had it. How often do you use it? Enough to make the plastic smell like you? He wonders…

Smashing his nose against the plastic, he inhales until his lungs balloon out. The smell of plastic hit him first, following by a muted scent that tickles his nostrils. Natural musk and sweat.

Jesus H. Christ, he is smelling you. 

He can’t bite back the low rumble from escaping, groaning as if he's being tortured. His cock twitches against his tummy, a fat pearl of precum budding at the tip. There’s no turning back now. Not when he kitten licks the bulbous head picturing your cunt in its place. He thinks of how good you'd taste, how wet and shiny you'd be as he dips into your hole.

Fuck it. It’s a one time thing. You won’t be home for another two days. The only potential witness to his debauchery is your cat, and they’re too distracted with a catnip toy in your living room.

“No one will know, they won’t,” He tells himself, taking one final sniff before grabbing a hold of his cock. He might not be able to step foot into your bedroom ever again, and there's a chance he won't be able to look you in the eyes, but, hey, that’s a problem for future Eddie.

It takes him a second to find a comfortable position, eventually settling to hold the wand perpendicular to his cock as he leans back against the headboard.

Just once to know what it feels like, he thinks. There is about a centimeter of space between the wand and his cock, but it's still close enough to make his breath hitch when he pushes down on the power button.

“Fuck!”

His stomach seizes, muscles tightening so violently he all but sits up. Jerking the wand away from him, he tries to compose himself as the toy makes his entire arm shake. It’s embarrassingly loud even on the lowest setting, but holy shit is it powerful. It hadn’t even touched him, but Eddie still shook in shocked bliss. He and an ex occasionally messed around with a mini pocket vibrator, but this. This is otherworldly.

And perhaps now would be a good place to stop. He's tried it, knows it could raise the dead. Pack it in, Munson. Put it back where you found it. Right?

Right.

Except his lack of self-control has doubled in size and devoured the last crumb of common sense he possessed. He's already started, might as well finish. He's already corrupted your friendship, at least let him get an orgasm out of it.

This time he lets the wand kiss his cock to send brutal ripples across his throbbing erection. With motorized tremors traveling all the way down to his balls, he imagines you on your knees, working his pants and boxers down so you could take out his cock. You bring him towards your mouth, stopping mere centimeters away, much like he had done with the wand. Your hot breath is fanning out against the underside of his cock as you say, “You have such a pretty cock, Eddie. Can I kiss it?”

“Y–yeah. Go on, sweetheart.”

As Imaginary You kisses the tip, he pulls the wand back just enough to dull the pulsing. He pretends the sensation is your mouth, kissing all the way around his tip. Down and around until your lips shine with his precum.

His groans are barely audible above the loud buzzing. He keeps his cock still, letting the wand trace the path of a particularly thick vein as he pretends it's your tongue. He imagines stroking the back of your head, coaxing you to take him into your mouth.

“Doin’ so good, sweetheart. Look so pretty with your mouth full of my cock. D'you know that?” 

You move your head in a disjointed nod, tears puddling in the corners of your eyes as the warmth of your mouth envelopes him. His fist tightens around his cock at the thought of you moaning with your mouth stuffed of him.

“Go on, you can take a little more.” 

It's not the vibrator that is shooting sparks of arousal through his cock, it's you and your moans. He ruminates on his fantasy, imagines you kissing and sucking like he's your favorite flavor of ice cream. Slowly moving the wand up and down until he’s built up the courage to take the wand lower.

The closer he gets to his balls, the more his cock leaks until it looks like he dumped on a bottle of lube on his crotch. He thinks of you grinding against the floor, his cock thrusting in and out of your mouth, until the vibrating head is nestled in the space between his cock and his balls. In his mind, you match his desperation by grinding against his boot, shining it with your slick.

Eddie teeters on the edge of release, panting like he’s run a marathon, his cock now an angry shade of purple. He's not gonna last for long. A fucking toy has reduced him to a virgin whose just watched Fast Times at Ridgemont High for the first time.

Shit. Now he's thinking about tits.

Your tits. He's never seen them, but he does remember all those hot, summer days spent cooling off at Lover's Lake. He can work with that. If there is anything DnD and tonight have proven, it's that he’s got a damn good imagination.

His broken whimpers match the way his thoughts slowly break off into disconnected clips as he hurtles himself closer to release. Your boobs cushioning his face. Him sucking bruises into your skin. Him notching himself at your entrance. You squirming so much he has to hold your hips down.

“Come on, Eddie. Need it, need you. I’ve been good.”

He’s drooling at the thought of your pussy, pulsing and warm and so fucking inviting as he sinks into your heat. You’re moaning too, whining his name as if you crave him as much as he craves you.

“Ohmygod, I feel you. Feel so good.”

“There you go, taking me so good. Wanted this for so long you don’t even know.”

The loud buzzing eggs him on, making his hips buck with little grace. He's not doing it for the extra stimulation, but as a visceral response to the heightened passion of the moment. It's everything working in tandem – the wand, his fantasies, and the piece of him that wishes this could become a reality. He can’t sit still, not when pleasure is this good.

The waves of dizzying pleasure carry him closer to oblivion, just a bit more and he'll be there.

Eddie's next move is consequential. Letting go of his cock, he moves to cups his heavy balls, tugging them up just enough to push the wand head into the space below his balls. The noise he makes is wild, animalistic in the way his vocal cords constrict, as the fierce vibrations spread all the way to his asshole. The feeling sinks into his flesh, radiating through his taint to shale his prostate.

He recalls every instance when you called his name, the soundtrack to his fantasy. He feels the phantom pressure of your heels digging into his lower back. You keep him locked in place, as if he would have left you.

"Eddie, please! Come inside me. W–want your cum."

He does his best to imagine what it would be like to pump you full, to feel you pulse around him, to smell his cologne mix with your sweat, to see his release dripping out of you. He needs it, needs you. The hand holding the wand went numb ages ago, but he still manages to extend a finger to turn up the intensity.

From there, it's a combustion of stars. Groaning, body shaking with little remorse, Eddie spills his seed in thick ropes. He's levitating off the bed, he has to be with how intense this orgasm is. All he can do to soothe himself is call your name until he is reduced to the cum covering his abdomen.

He can't remember when or how he turned off the wand, but it’s now on the floor. Quietude falls over your tiny apartment, and somehow it's more deafening than the motorized buzzing. It hits him like a heavy gust of wind, blowing in a profound sense of shame for what he just did.

Fuck. Did he…? Did that actually happen?

“Oh God,” He groans. Yeah, he really did that. His embarrassment is hot like fire and as rough as brimstone. He knows he needs to clean up and hide the evidence of his perversion, but he lays paralyzed at the inevitable consequences of his actions. Eddie is a mess, both physically and mentally.

Messy Munson, that's his new name.

Or maybe it's not that bad, he thinks. Maybe it just seems like that. He dares himself to look down at his spent cock and–

Jesus H. Christ, he didn't know one person could produce that much cum.

His abdomen is flooded, there is cum pooled in his belly button, and the thatch of pubic hair is glued together from his seed. And of course, it couldn't just stay in it's place, it's had to drip down to soil your sheets.

Throwing his head back into your pillow, he shuts his eyes as if the sight pains him. He did this and he's got to fix it. There is absolutely no way that you can find out about this. As he stands on shaky, Bambi legs, he starts a mental checklist:

Take another shower

Wash your sheets

Resist the urge to do it again

Clean your wand and place it back exactly as it was

Forget about your Hitachi (like, actually forget this time)

Figure out how to act like nothing ever happened

Do NOT do it again

divider by @/strangergraphics

[luveline]

Hi jade!! I saw ur looking for some Steve or Eddie requests, I was thinking either of them seeing reader a little tipsy leaving a party with a guy she obviously doesn’t want to go with and they kinda step in and save her:) ily

ty for requesting! fem, 1.2k

“What’s up with you?” 

Eddie shakes his head. “What do you mean?” 

Jamison, taller than Eddie, rests on the opposite side of the same door frame. They’re blocking the hallway, Eddie in the kitchen doorway and Jamison the living room’s, but neither care nor mind. Being conscientious isn’t Jamison’s style, and Eddie’s too heartbroken to care. 

“What, is it Y/N?” Jamison asks. 

Eddie nods in your direction, past Jamison’s shoulder. He turns. 

You’re sitting amongst a crowd of people on a coffee table, a guy standing between your legs. He’s holding your face, a hand especially possessive at the side of your neck.

“I didn’t even know she was talking to somebody,” Eddie says. 

“That’s not a lot of talking,” Jamison says. “She looks wasted.” 

You do seem pretty tipsy, your eyes heavy, head lolling into the guy’s hand. He laughs at you and bends to touch you, his hands going under your arms, and Eddie has to look away. 

Jamison gives him a shove. “Eddie.”

“I can’t look. My heart is broken.” 

“Eddie, does that seem weird to you?” 

Eddie joins Jamison in the doorway and glares at the people glaring at them both to move, before he finds you again. The guy you’re with is trying to pull you into a standing position, but you’re moving backward, attempting to lay on the coffee table despite a mound of decorative books and candles. 

“Sweetheart,” the guy says softly, “come on, let’s get you home.” 

“No, thanks.” 

Eddie shrugs. “I don’t know. Just seems like she’s drunk.” 

Still, his feelings set aside, there’s something off about it. You’re squirming away from his touch —he grabs your hip and you groan like you’re in pain. The guy's smile twitches and Eddie thinks, Oh. 

He forces Jamison to take his drink and plunges forward. 

“I don’t want to go with you,” you say, slurring but for sure a rejection. 

“Y/N,” Eddie says, before your mystery guy can get another word in, his hand suspiciously tight on your elbow, “you okay?” 

“She’s fine.” 

“Awesome,” he says, giving the guy a smile and turning his attention right back to you. Your expression fills with familiarity, your shoulders sagging in relief. “You okay?” 

“I just said she’s fine.” 

“And both times I wasn’t asking you,” Eddie says, looking at your jerk with wild incredulity. “Dude.” 

“Eddie, I’m okay,” you say. 

“Yeah? Wanna come and get a glass of water?” 

“Munson, I fucking have her, man. She’s fine, she literally asked me to take her home.” 

This guy isn’t an out and proud skeeze ball, he’s undercover. Eddie can’t tell instantly if he’s lying, nor could he have spotted him a mile off, but the more he watches how he’s acting, the more Eddie doesn’t care either way; boyfriend or not, he can’t just grab you and pull at you. 

“Maybe stop fucking dragging her around,” Eddie snaps.

“I’m trying to help her up! It’s none of your business.” 

Eddie can’t fight. He sizes the guy up anyways and decides his best bet is a swift attack, Eddie’s probably gonna need the first punch. He curls his hand into a fist at his side to give it one last shot. 

“Listen,” Eddie says, “I’m gonna ask her if she wants to go with you, and no matter what she says I’m not gonna let her, anyway. One of the girls can take her home.” 

“You fucking loser,” the guy says, with enough vitriol for Eddie to know he’s about to get punched. 

You save the day. You finally manage to stand, and you rag your arm out of the weird guy’s grip. Your other hand sews through Eddie’s arm, your drunken weight pressing into his side. “I don’t wanna go anywhere with him,” you say to Eddie, looking into his face with urgency. “I don’t even know who he is.” 

“You fucking creep,” Eddie says to the guy. “‘Cos she’s drunk you’re gonna force her into the car? Go be a ‘white knight’ somewhere else, Jesus.” 

“Leave me alone!” you pipe up. 

“You’re both fucking losers,” the guy says, stalking off through the door and into the hallway. 

Eddie wishes he could say that he can’t believe how creepy people are. He can’t imagine what the guy would’ve done to you if he’d managed to get you back to his car. 

“You okay?” he asks you again. 

You sit down hard on the coffee table. With music thumping from the kitchen and tens of eyes on you, you’re looking overwhelmed, and queasy if your constant swallowing is any indication. 

Eddie sits down next to you. “You don’t know that guy?” 

“No. Name is Connor something, I think.” 

Connor the Creep, Eddie thinks. Fitting. “Your arm okay? He was grabbing you pretty tightly.” 

“I thought he was gonna take me to his car,” you say, letting your face hang forward. 

“I wasn’t gonna let him.” Eddie pats your leg amicably. “Seriously. I thought he was your new boyfriend at first, but you made it clear you didn’t wanna go with him. Good job.” 

You shake your head. “I’m so stupid.” 

“If you’re stupid, I’m dire.” 

“I can’t believe how drunk I am,” you say, turning to him, stressed and humoured at once. You giggle strangely. It’s pretty cute, but Eddie’s wondering if he should be pulling you in for a hug or something, you look that unsettled. 

“It’s a party! That’s what people do at them. You’re fine.” 

“Not fine. What if he felt me up?” you ask. 

Eddie nods. “Right. I’m sorry I didn’t swoop in sooner, I would’ve– I’m just dumb as a bag of rocks. I couldn’t tell he was being a creep until I got a good look at you.” 

“Don’t be sorry, you got him to leave me alone.” 

“…Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks. 

His eyebrows pinch. Yours follow, like a funny mirror, and you hold your hands out on wobbly arms, waiting for him to put something against your chest. He shakes his head in confusion. 

“Can you hug me?” you ask. 

His eyebrows rise, his lips press together in surprise, and he hides it by quickly taking your arms and pressing them against his sides. He wraps his own around the tops of your arms and your shoulders, his hair pulled as he smushes your heads together. 

“You don’t have to go home with anybody you don’t want to,” he promises, scared that you’re scared. 

“I wanna go home with you,” you say, feeling along one side of his waist nicely. 

He holds back a shiver. “I’m gonna get Macy to take you, babe. Don’t worry.” 

“Okie dokie. Thank you, Eddie, you saved me.” 

“It was a team effort.”

You speak into his shoulder, “Go team.”

[fallrafwe]

,,DON’T BE DIFFICULT”

a/n: feel free to request things of rafe or jj, or anybody else! pt is right here

warnings: dark!rafe, no protection (WRAP IT), NONCON/DUBCON, humiliation, threats are made, lying, choking, piv, strong language

summary: rafe is horny at midsummers and he needs somebody to help him, and he finds you, a pogue

Getting out of the boat, you were just silently following John B and JJ’s lead, hearing them argue about how John B might be messing with Sarah Cameron. You laughed to yourself a bit, then staring at John B crouching down to a bag JJ was carrying, pulling out a gun. Your mouth dropped in surprise, “What the fuck, JJ?”

He stared at you and John B, “Yeah, well, if I get jumped, it’s on you guys,” he said, putting his hands up in the air. You and the brunette looked at each other and sighed, he put the gun back in the bag and carried it. You guys made it up to the party, JJ dressed up as a waiter, you’re dressed up as a Kook, even though it’s obvious you aren’t, and John B dressed like himself, waiting for Sarah at some place.

You were too busy thinking, and eventually lost JJ, having no idea where he was. Panic set in, because you didn’t wanna be left alone since Rafe and his goons were probably out for you guys. Getting picked on by them is not a good thing, at all. They’re so ruthless. You started looking around for anybody who was in your group, but finding nobody.

Nobody except Rafe Cameron, he started approaching you. “Oh, shit,” you muttered under your breath as you started backing away. He called your name and you just pretended you didn’t hear him, trying to get yourself lost into a crowd. All of a sudden, somebody creeped up behind you, and it was Rafe.

“I don’t remember you belonging here, Pogue.” He said, his hands on your waist, you immediately tried to pull off of him, just to be met with a stronger grip on your waist, and all of a sudden, you felt a bulge press against your lower back. You were disgusted, “Rafe, get the fuck off of me.”

He chuckled as he just kept gripping harder and harder, his fingernails digging deep into your skin. You winced in pain, making little ah noises every time he dug deeper. “Rafe, please.” You put your hands on top of his and made a weak but desperate attempt to get them off you. “Don’t be difficult,” he commanded.

You groaned painfully as he spoke, “Help me with my problem, and I’ll leave you alone, yeah?” Rafe loosened his grip and you sighed in relief, looking back at him, “I’m not your personal fucking prostitute, get the hell away from me,” you yelled, being rewarded with a few weird looks from people around you.

When you tried to storm off, he gripped your wrist as tight as he could, “Ow, ow, Rafe, stop!” Rafe then dragged you inside, making his way to the men’s locker room. He opened the door, looking around and finding no one, he loosened his grip, still holding on. You both made your way over to a stall, and he shoved you into it.

Rafe turned to you, “Told you to not be difficult, didn’t I?” he stated sternly. You then made a dumb decision, trying to scream. However, it was quickly cut off with a hand squeezing your airways tightly. You were caught off guard and just stared at him as you put both your hands on his, “R..afe,” you said, it came out as a whisper basically.

“If I let go, you’re not gonna fucking scream, and you’re not gonna fucking talk. Got it?” You nodded the best you could as he let go, you inhaled the deepest breath you felt you ever took in your entire life, as it basically flashed before your eyes. You don’t even know why he was doing this, out of pure horniness? Tears filled your eyes as you looked at him, “Rafe, please, I don’t wanna-“ he quickly cut you off with a slap and turned you around, your back facing him and your face being squished against the wall from his hand.

“God, you.. you just don’t fucking listen, do you?” He said sucking in air as he narrowed his eyes at you, you were just sobbing as you dealt with this whole interaction. Quickly, he took your dress off with ease, leaving it resting at your ankles. Your back was forcefully being arched after your dress was taken off, he slapped your ass, making you wince.

You stayed silent as you took everything he was giving to you, Rafe then slowly slid your panties down to your shins, taking two digits and sliding them up and down your folds, collecting the involuntary wetness. He laughed darkly, “Oh, I thought you didn’t like this? You’re so fuckin’ wet f’me.”

Shaking your head in denial, you knew you didn’t want this, but your body did. You have no idea why you’re so wet, and you just cried in silence as you heard Rafe unbuckling his belt, it was painfully fast, you heard the fabric of his boxers and trousers slide down, and you knew he was ready to take you.

He pushed his tip into your entrance, making you moan in surprise, jolting forward, but Rafe quickly stopped you from moving by placing his hands on your hips. “Don’t move, ‘cause I know for a fact a poor slut like you can’t afford birth control, so it would be a shame if I came in you, huh?” He said, but he said it so normally, you actually wouldn’t be surprised if he’s done this before, but you obeyed what he said, hoping he wouldn’t follow through with what he said if you actually moved.

Rafe moved so swiftly and harshly, thrusting into you like it would be the last thing he would ever do. You moaned loudly, breathing heavily throughout thrusts, he moved his hips so good, and you don’t know why, but you loved this. “Yeah, taking my fuckin’ cock. This is where a filthy Pogue like you belongs, you know it’s right. Let me hear you say it.”

You felt a knot in your stomach about to burst and you knew you were close, “Y..yes, fuck. I belong under you, R..afe.”

He just smiled and laughed quietly, barely audible. “You were just begging and crying for me to stop, what happened to that, hm? Just so desperate for my cock, huh?” You nodded in desperation, about to cum, he just made sloppier thrusts, harder as well. He was hitting every spot you needed him to hit, and you finally felt that knot unravel, your pussy now pulsating around Rafe’s cock as you came.

“Just like that, cum around my cock, like the fuckin’ whore you are, what would your Pogue friends say if they saw you taking my dick like this, huh?” He chuckled at the thought of that, the thought of you crying and wanting him to get off of you.

You felt humiliated by the fact you were taking him so well after begging him to stop. His thrusts got slower and harder, a sign that he was close to his climax, after longer thrusts, he came in you.

Your heart dropped at the feeling of him filling you up, tears filling your waterline, “Rafe, what the fuck did you just do?”

After pulling out, he slapped your pussy, “What? Just did what to your pussy wanted me to do.” he smirked after replying to you. You didn’t dare face him though, but you stopped arching, straightening your back, your body trembled. “Rafe, you have to buy me birth control, I can’t afford it.”

Rafe just looked you up and down, looking at your shaking legs as his cum dripped down them, “Maybe, I’ll have to think about it.” he smirked as he ran his hand through his hair, so it stayed gelled back. You pulled up your panties and dress in silence as he opened the stall door and left, you just hoped he would buy it for you, or you would have to find some way to get it.

[tryingtofindava]

some of the creeps with a cannibalistic reader? :> if thats okayy

── 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐛𝐚𝐥! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫*ೃ༄

(Includes: Jeff the Killer, Eyeless Jack, Ticci Toby, Masky, Hoodie, Nina the Killer.)

: ̗̀➛Back to source

>>Part 2

╰┈➤ 𝐉𝐞𝐟𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫

He doesn’t hide the fact AT ALL that he thinks it’s absolutely gross.

And he’ll always make that clear to you.

Onetime you were in the woods after offing some poor camper, eating away at their flesh. And Jeff came by because he was on his way back to his hiding spot from the world.

He watches and mocks you the whole time, because he’s an asshole.

“Y/n, that’s fucking disgusting.” (he scoffs while being covered in like 7 different peoples blood…)

Anyways lolz he doesn’t support you :3

╰┈➤ 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤

Whether you’re a cannibal by choice or forced to be (like him) he feels a weird connection to you in that way.

I’d be a liar if I said you two didn’t bond over the fact that you both have the taste for human flesh. (Which is like, a BIG deal for Jack since he isn’t the most social Creep out there.)

He may even share his little human organs with you, and it may as well become your guys usual hang out plan.

╰┈➤ 𝐓𝐢𝐜𝐜𝐢 𝐓𝐨𝐛𝐲

I’m actually sure he was supposed to be cannibal but was changed later on by Kastoway since it was too similar to EJ’s story and stuff. So it was set that he only ate some parts of his victims on rare occasions.

I’m also pretty sure it’s canon that the way he got the gash on his cheek is because he literally gnawed it off because his gloves prevented him from eating away at the skin on his fingers.

So yeah… he’s probably un phased by your desire to eat people. (Not that he’d give a shit in the first place, he’d probably just tease you sometimes about it)

Maybe even on his mini missions he’d take some human parts from his victims for you to scran on.

╰┈➤ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞

Again, another two who find it repulsing-ish.

BUT!!

They don’t make it as obvious as Jeffrey does about finding it icky, though you can still sense their vibe being off ‘cause of your strange addiction.

Sometimes when you eat in the woods they may come across you and watch, though you can’t see their faces from their masks you know that they are silently judging you.

If I’m being completely honest, they’re both more curious about it than anything. They’ll both get over it eventually.

╰┈➤ 𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫

She’s completely cool and chill about it!!

She canonically dated EJ, so she kinda had to be fine w it lolz.

Her love language is gift giving, and acts of service, so like Toby she definitely brings you humans to munch on.

You want them raw? Okay!! You want ‘em fried? She’s getting the pan out now!

She loves getting her hands dirty for you, and feels no regret what so ever when she ends an innocent person to bring you your dinner!! :)

Half of this was me babbling lolz

[gutterfuuck]

ok all i can think of is super pervy & creepy incel mark w a reader who lowk knows he’s super weird and creepy with her but is like…into it. like he steals her underwear and gets off on the smell of her and she knows and is just like 🤷‍♀️😊 like maybe she finds a fucking box of her underwear under his bed while they’re hanging out and he’s like oh fuck i swear it’s not what it looks like and she’s like :0 okay but do you want another pair? 😊😊

“ and in addition to my other ask; what would be even better is a reader who is so like fucked up mentally over being into it (bc uhhh she doesn't think she should be so into her best friend being a fucking creep) and mark can tell and he's like ok so ur just a little pervert like me!— ☆ “

this is so good anon omggg—- it would also be an interesting idea to have a reader who’s kind of a bully/mean girl towards mark + he retaliates (😉) but that is a whole other concept that i am not focusing on rn haha 😅

MDNI, 18+ CONTENT

you were accustomed to it by now; mark’s calloused finger tips brushing past your neck, hands wrapping around your waist or pulling you almost into his lap at times. he was just a touchy guy, you were his best friend, he’d never look at you like that!! mark just loved playing with your hair, he was just affectionate!

you knew why his hugs would linger just for a bit too long, you weren’t stupid. that’s why you weren’t the least bit shocked when you had found out where your underwear had ran off to. you weren’t shocked, weren’t exactly disappointed either. you knew what had been going on, you damn near set him up by just leaving your clothes thrown onto his bathroom floor after you would use his shower and purposely wearing short skirts and low tops whenever you would hang out with him. you’d picked up on his behaviour for a while now, so had everyone else. everyone around you could see how often mark would touch and let you walk up the stairs first so he could see up your skirt, “well i’m not gonna look up there, you know that.” “if you fall or slip, i’ll be there to catch you, y’know?” “c’mon y/n, don’t you trust me? wouldn’t you rather me accidentally see up there?” “you already walk around my house basically naked sometimes.” he justified, eventually winning you over and getting the chance to pull out his phone while distracting you with talk, taking a video from underneath your skirt.

you’d found them when you had dropped your phone down the side of his bed, going to get it before mark could protest and offer himself to grab it, he hadn’t moved that one pair of cotton white panties, the ones he had pressed up to his nose the night before, getting off to the scent of your pussy still on them. mark almost died when his fear came to fruition, you holding up your own pair of underwear that you had left your phone for.

mark’s face turned red, hand shooting forward to grab at the pair of underwear; you snatching your hand away. “i-it isn’t what you think it is!” he shouted, your eyes locked onto his. the corners of your lips turned upwards, glancing at the panties and then back to mark, “i think these are my panties. no, i’m sure.” you spoke, mark’s hands flew to your shoulders. “they must’ve g-gotten there by accident…-you’re always here, you never know, you might’ve left them here-” he stuttered, fingers digging into your skin gently, moving up to hold your face so he could give you a look of sincerity, hoping that you would believe his lies.

“d’you want more?”

he swear he heard ringing in his ears. the world seemed to slow down, his vision blurry. did you really just say that or was he actually going crazy this time? a beat, two. “what?” he breathed out, voice quiet and getting lost somewhere on the way out. “i’m wearing pink. white polkadots, lace i think.” you wondered, fingers playing with the hem of your skirt, inching it towards your upper thighs. further, further. “wanna see?” and mark feels like he’s going to explode. he was already nodding before you had even asked him if he wanted to look at your underwear, you got off of the bed, standing in front of him and lifted your skirt up. lace, just like you had promised. crimson red trickled out of mark’s nose, dick throbbing in his pants.

he looked so disheveled, half lidded puppy eyes focused on your clothed cunt, blood slowly dripping down his nose and past his chin, red staining his shirt. “can.. c-can i…” he almost drooled, hand reaching towards your thigh, needing to hold you, needing to confirm that this was real and happening. “you’re gonna let me touch you here, yeah?” his hands stuck to your waist, pulling you closer as he moved to kneel in front of you, pressing his face into your cunt and sniffing feverishly, tongue lolling out to lick you through the cloth.

“s’good… smell so f-fuckin’ good, y/n..” he groaned, you giggled. you were so perfect for him, so fucking perfect. he slid one of his hands into his pants, wasting no time in stroking his cock, jerking himself off while he sniffed around under your skirt and put his mouth around your still covered pussy, wetting the fabric and licking up your juices as soon as they secreted from your heat and soaked into your panties that mark would definitely be keeping. your hands stroked through his hair, gasping lightly when he pulled your panties to the side and instantly began sucking harshly on your clit, rubbing circles into it with his hot tongue.

this was sooo fucked up. were you taking advantage of him? would it even matter seeing as he’s obviously been taking advantage of you, stealing your underwear while you weren’t looking? you didn’t care, neither did mark. you especially didn’t care when his fingers found their way into your warm cunt, pumping in and out while he gently grazed your sensitive bud with his teeth, your fingers tightening in his hair and your chest heaving, a low growl rumbling in the back of his throat as he held you still with both hands now, teeth biting down just right enough for it to make you almost jump backwards, a light squeal leaving your lips.

“taste so good… so wet f’me, getting my fingers all sticky..” he talked into your clit, tongue flicking back and forth. mark pulled away, looking up at you with lust glazed eyes, putting his fingers into his mouth and sucking your slick off of his digits. he turned you around, mouth open while he panted, hands spreading your asscheeks as his tongue began licking circles around your asshole, making you almost jump at the unexpected action. “j-just wanna touch you everywhere…” mark told you, tongue pushing past your tight little back opening, your ass clenching around his tongue as you nearly fell over onto your knees, mark steadying you.

you were always teasing him, always. he pulled his tongue out, pulling you down onto the floor with him, positioning you onto your back, hands attacking your zipped up jacket and almost tearing the clean off. no shirt. no bra. fuck, you’d done this on purpose. “so fucking hot…” he said before sucking on your now exposed nipples, other hand squeezing as if he had no idea on how to handle tits gently. oh, that was because he didn’t. he was inexperienced, but it wasn’t something that made you upset. no, quite the opposite, you liked it; the hungriness of it. the greediness, selfishness.

“no bra… practically naked under there…-“ he huffed tapping your leg so you would wrap your legs around his waist. he bent down to lick your cheek, smiling when you gave him a look of confusion, “p-perv..!” you joked, laughing at him. his cock strained, his cheeks went pink. “again… fuck, call me that again.” mark muttered, humping against you on the floor, trapping you in with his teeth tight on your shoulder. you complied, gasping and nodding, “pervert..”

he lost it, getting to his feet and keeping his hand on your head so you knew not to stand up along with him, his hand anchored in the back of your hair, using it to pull you forward so he could rub your face in his bulge, throwing his head back when you opened your mouth, sliding your lips up and down the side of his cock through his pants.

in reality, maybe you were the pervert. you couldn’t care less, your hot best friend was trying to force his fat cock all the way down your throat with his gorgeous face all ruined and flustered with your lacey-pink-and-white panties held up to his nose, your scent drove him fucking crazy, your own face streaking of mascara and your lipstick smudged around the corners of your lips. you were beautiful to him, his hips unrelenting with his messy thrusts. “nghh aaaahh.. so warm… ‘s this what pussy feels like too?” he asked, gripping your hair even tighter. “b-bet you’re tighter in there… in your cunt-“ he continued to let his tip bully the back of your neck, your throat bulging ever so slightly with each harsh thrust, catching a rhythm that made his balls slap against your chin. “c-callin’ me the perv… you’re all soaked and sicky down there…” your eyes watered, nails digging into the meat of this thighs, your cunt gushing. this was so wrong, you should know better than to let your best friend throat fuck you after finding out that he had been getting away with stealing your items of clothing for so long. “you’re the real pervert, hah..- you look so messy, f-fuck, i-i’m gonna cumdownyourthroat—“ he choked out, dick pulsing as his head rolled back, his vision blanking and hips stuttering, thick ropes of cum filling your mouth.

he was right, you were the perv. only a perv would swallow their best friend’s load and beg him to shoot the next one into your guts.

[loveinhawkins]

ao3

A gnawing sense of foreboding creeps up on Steve as they head to Eddie’s trailer, armed with weapons.

He tries to outrun it through action: ensuring he’s the first one to go through the Gate; jumping back and forth between The Upside Down and their world whenever someone forgets something, “It’s okay, I’ve got it!”; triple checking that the cables for Eddie’s amps are long enough; searching for the slightest thing than seizing upon it with an enthusiasm bordering on desperate, “Hey, we could use this, right? Better take it, just in case.”

But that only works for so long, and then Steve’s just standing in Eddie’s kitchen, the real one, staring blankly at the cupboards, all out of distractions.

Out of time.

He hears a grunt of exertion behind him, then an unsteady landing, a muffled curse. Eddie.

“Jesus Christ, Steve. Wanted to fit your aerobics routine in?”

He’s teasing, so light-hearted despite it all; Steve can’t stand it.

Keeps his back turned, gut twisting, opening the cupboards then slamming them shut, thump, thump. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for. He never has.

“Uh, so I was thinking,” Eddie continues, like Steve’s not doing anything weird, “that I could stretch out the, um, the song? My playing? Could buy you some more time, anyway.”

“Sure, great,” Steve says shortly.

He thinks—with a numb kind of calm—that he’s going to be sick.

He gets to the bathroom, tries to shut the door, but his grip slips on the handle.

Turns on the faucet, scoops cold water from his hands into his mouth, and it helps until it doesn’t, until he’s almost choking on it, and he’s been here before, the feeling familiar: a shadow looming over him, just waiting, waiting, and he knows it’ll pass, it always does, but he can’t stop thinking of Robin, it might not work out for us this time, and what if, what if—

He can hear Eddie knocking on the doorframe, just out of view—as if he’d seen Steve’s failed attempt at shutting the door and wanted to respect it.

“Hey, man, you okay?” Then Eddie mutters to himself, “Obviously not, get a fucking clue.”

Steve’s laugh is strangled but real. He wipes his mouth dry and shuts off the water.

“You don’t need to talk to a wall, dude,” he says.

And Eddie steps into view, leans against the open door. His eyes flicker across Steve’s face, and Steve doesn’t want to know what he’s noticed, so when Eddie opens his mouth hesitantly, he speaks first.

“We should—they’re gonna wonder where we are.”

Eddie pauses on the verge of speech; Steve watches him reevaluate whatever he was going to say.

“Well,” Eddie says, gesturing to the bathroom, matter-of-fact, “we could be peeing.”

Steve manages a chuckle. “You’re an idiot.”

Eddie grins like he’s saying yup, that’s me, like he’s won a prize.

Steve has seen him wear something close to that expression not even an hour ago: when the kids had started a line to use the bathroom in the RV, and Eddie had snorted, giggled with a childish kind of delight, “You—ha! You all look like you’re on a field trip,” before joining the line himself—calling out that he hoped their plan accounted for bathroom breaks because, “There’s no way I’m pissing in the alternate dimension,” and that had made Nancy break, laughing in a way Steve was certain he hadn’t heard since ‘83.

Eddie steps into the room and shuts the door quietly. Steve gets why: his breathing’s still all wrong, and if Dustin happened to see him, he doesn’t think he’d ever forgive himself.

“Sorry.” Steve sucks in a breath, tries to hold it. Loses it in an exhale that shudders at the edges. He speaks through the tail end of it, hoping that’s enough to conceal the sound, “Gimme, like, two minutes.”

“Make it ten,” Eddie says.

The way he says it makes it seem like it’s already a done deal; he must’ve spoken to Robin and Nancy before he tumbled through the Gate.

Despite himself, Steve feels a wave of relief: just for a little while, he has time; it overpowers the shame, leaves him sinking down to sit on the closed toilet seat.

He closes his eyes, just breathes. In… out… in…

He doesn’t realise that Eddie’s sitting down, too, until he hears the clunk of his boots, the rustle of clothing as he moves.

“Sorry,” Steve says again, and it annoyingly still comes out a little shaky, like he’s in the pool and he’s left it too long to snatch a breath. “You can go back, man, I’ll… I’ll be right there.”

He opens his eyes to see Eddie shaking his head, sat with his back against the bathtub.

“Stop apologising,” Eddie says, and then it’s as if the seriousness of it is too much for him, because he adds, with a self-deprecating smile that Steve hates, “I get it. You’re walking into the dragon’s lair, I’m just putting on a concert.”

“Don’t,” Steve says, and he doesn’t intend for the word to come out as sharp as it does, but that doesn’t change the fact that he means it. He means it.

Eddie’s smile fades.

“Don’t,” Steve repeats, quieter. Not quite an apology.

Slowly, he moves off the toilet seat, until he’s sat next to Eddie. There’s just enough space that they don’t need to touch, but Steve presses his shoulder against Eddie’s anyway, like he can somehow pass on everything he means through that alone.

Eddie sighs, presses back for just a second. “Don’t what?” he asks. He sounds tired all of a sudden.

“Don’t—don’t joke like that,” Steve says. “Like you’re not—” He swallows. “Like it’s not dangerous.”

There’s a pause. Eddie reaches across and puts a hand on Steve’s knee. Squeezes briefly and pulls back; already Steve finds that he misses the warmth of him.

“Hey, don’t worry,” Eddie says. There’s no joke in this, not a trace. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to Dustin.” Another smile. Gentle. “Swear on his mother.”

I’m not worried about that, Steve wants to say, but of course that’s not true; he’s tried hard not to look at Dustin directly ever since they arrived at the trailer, because his throat would start to close up alarmingly whenever his gaze lingered, and he knows the kid’s doing that whole semi-aloof teenager thing lately, but a part of him still wants to hold him tight and never let go.

It’s more that the shape of Steve’s worry is different to what he thinks Eddie’s imagining, covers more than Dustin’s safety alone—that the cold dread in his stomach brings him back to the tunnels in ‘84; to clutching Dustin, who was so small, Steve desperately trying to shield him with his own body, thinking the kid’s thirteen, only thirteen, this isn’t fucking fair; and that if this had to end one way, all he could do was pray that he’d be the only one to…

And Steve hadn’t wanted to die, but he was suddenly facing it anyway, and Christ, looking back at it, that was crazy, the whole damn thing was crazy, but it all made a twisted kind of sense at the time.

Eddie must spot that his train of thought’s gone down a dark alley because he knocks their knees together, but he doesn’t say anything. Just breathes, slumped against the bathtub; it’s probably the first time he’s been still—truly still—in a long while.

He must be exhausted, Steve thinks.

The gnawing feeling digs in, grips his heart.

“I can hear you thinking,” Eddie says quietly. “Listen, Steve, I know I’m new to, uh… all of this shit, but I’m on it, okay? Got it all up in here,” he taps the side of his head, “trust me—”

That’s not what—I trust you, of fucking course I do, but—

“—no deviations, and—”

“Plans change,” Steve says, and he hears himself, the calm decisiveness, just get ready; Dustin’s scream carrying across the junkyard, Steve, abort, abort! “Just… just promise me.”

“Promise you?” Eddie murmurs.

Steve feels the words on his tongue, the weight of them. Don’t do anything stupid. 

He swallows them down—afraid suddenly that if he really puts a name to it, it’s going to happen.

Fuck it, he’s exhausted too, and for a long moment he evades speaking: gingerly rests his head on Eddie’s shoulder. Feels his body heat, the swell of his breathing.

Eddie doesn’t tense up, just lets him rest there. 

If I kissed you, Steve thinks, drained, would you stay?

He doesn’t say it. Instead he lifts his head and asks, “What are you doing tomorrow?”

Eddie chuckles. They’re still so close, Steve can feel his amused sigh.

“Tomorrow? I’ve not really… like, hopefully I’m not in jail. Anything else is a bonus.”

“We’ll fix it,” Steve says fiercely. “Trust me.”

“Oh, I believe you,” Eddie says, grinning fondly, but he sounds genuine. “Shit, man, I think you could do anything.” He gestures outside. “Got the fucking dream team out there.”

“We solved a secret Russian code last summer.”

Eddie laughs. “Did you?” His eyes sparkle with mirth.

You’re beautiful.

“Gospel truth, I swear,” Steve says. He tries to stay light, but he makes the vow anyway. “I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

I have so much to tell you.

They stand up, and Steve doesn’t know who’s the first one to move—just that they both probably sensed the time dwindling.

And maybe it’s that, the inescapable thought that something’s coming to an end that does it. Steve doesn’t know for sure, just knows that his eyes are burning suddenly—mortifyingly—with tears. He looks up at the ceiling, hurriedly trying to push them back, but Eddie notices anyway.

“Steve, what is it?” he whispers, with a look of utter devastation.

Steve shakes his head. “Just being stupid,” he says, voice brittle, cutting himself off before he can say something ridiculous.

God, Eddie, let’s just stay here and grow old.

“You’re not stupid,” Eddie says, heartfelt—he stops just short of touching Steve; he clearly wants to help so badly, but he doesn’t know how.

Steve wants to tell him it’s fine. He doesn’t know either.

Maybe nothing can help this.

They leave for the Gate in unspoken agreement; at first Steve finds comfort in the sight of Eddie dangling on the rope, not quite in either world. Like every possibility is laid out before him.

I’ll tell you tomorrow.

But there’s a near imperceptible shift as Eddie keeps climbing, and Steve needs to look away, anything to avoid the pit in his stomach: the suspicion that the path’s already been chosen.

[springgirlshowers]

hello! you’re my absolutely fav joost’s writer, and i would like to request hcs abt joost with a gf who has big boobs (i’m feeling like a pervert and creep and weirdo I’M SO SORRY) and it doesn’t have to be nsfw!!! thank you sm for all your work i hope you have a wonderful day😭😭

DO NOT WORRY AT ALL!!! joost has admitted to being a boob man and also who doesn’t love boobs! i may have written a lot but hope u enjoy (>ᴗ•) <333

cw: 18+, mentions of hickies, sexual acts, mans lowkey a perv in this

✿ he will absolutely stare. especially if you’re wearing a low cut top, he will stare.

✿ hell even if there’s no cleavage showing, he’s still gonna be staring at them, he is no better than the average man 😭

✿ to quote Sir-Mix-A-Lot: “i cant stop lookin at her ti-ti-ti-face”

✿ constantly catching him jus starin straight at em anywhere, while your sitting on the couch, at a restaurant, at the table, in the mirror, this man has no shame

✿ or always catching the way his eyes will flutter down to your chest when you’re talking to him

✿ you absolutely tease the hell out of him for it, calling him a perv or a freak and watching him giggle and blush

✿ sometimes you’d purposely wear a thin white shirt around the house, wearing that black lacy bra he loves just to drive him fucking crazy

✿ his hands have a tendency to stray when your cuddling

✿ laying behind you on the couch or bed, his hands will move from your stomach and trail up to your tits, giving them a tight squeeze just to mess with you and catch you off guard

✿ you’ll push your ass into his crotch just to (again) tease him back

✿ it’s weird, but he’s obsessed with the way he can’t fully grope all of your breasts in his hands, there’s always more than he can hold in his palms, he just thinks it’s hot lol

✿ again with the teasing, sometimes you’ll purposely wear a bra or shirt/tank top too tight where a bit of your boobs start spilling out, which makes him go nuts once again

✿ they make an amazing pillow for his head. seriously. he’s fallen asleep on them before.

✿ he’ll lay his head on your stomach and massage your tits like they’re stressballs after a long day

✿ there may or may not have been a few times where a titjob has been involved during sex

✿ LOVES to put his face all up in them and is always kissing them

✿ man loves a good tittysucking, he’d go for hours tbh, he goes insane at the sight of them after he’s marked you up in hickies and lovebites, that freak

✿ he gets so flustered when you walk around in a bra

✿ or when you try on a new bra/top or new lingerie, turning from the mirror to face him asking “do you think I look good in this?”

✿ “y-you look stunning, you look good in anything, liefje.” he’d respond as he goes red in the face, holding a pillow to hide his crotch

✿ he can’t handle when you jog to go get something and he sees them bounce

✿ he also goes crazy over the way they bounce when you’re on top of him, he’ll be grasping onto them or sitting up and kissing/sucking all over your chest while you bounce

✿ this may be too wild but flashing him during a conversation or even an argument just to catch him off guard

✿ “you can’t just show me your boobs to get me to shut up when we’re arguing!”

✿ imagine getting in an argument with him and be mad at him and you catch him staring again so you just put on a hoodie cuz he’s lost boob staring privileges ☠️☠���

✿ gets so fucking giddy when you ask for help taking off your bra

✿ in conclusion; you’re a tease and bros a perv and a absolute freak for your big tits

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Two Three Four Five Six

The car’s gone. Lets go now.

Eddie sighs, but at least this is still the trailer park and at least it’s dark, so they stand a chance of not getting caught.

Max says her room is around back.

“I am aware,” Eddie huffs under his breath, “I was there for the conversation, if you recall.”

Eddie finds the right window and sort of shimmies it until it gives, just like Max said it would. Eddie’s still not one hundred percent healed up, so pulling himself up and then flopping through the window is a little painful and not his best moment.

At least he lands right on Max’s bed.

He looks around to orientate himself, then heads for the wardrobe, right at the bottom there are two scrunched up paper grocery bags, right where Max said they would be. Eddie checks real quick; yeah, clothes. Not much, just a few of Billy’s things Max managed to salvage before they downsized to move to the trailer.

Eddie hits the bathroom next, bottom shelf of the cabinet, right at the back, a half bottle of Billy’s preferred cologne and a couple of half used bottles of fancy shampoo and conditioner, “you’re so fucking vain.”

You will thank me later.

Eddie looks at Billy. The bathroom in the trailer is still pretty small, so Billy is currently standing in the shower cubicle, watching Eddie brush his teeth. He looks perfect; perfect hair, perfect tanned skin, shiny earring dangling from one ear, chain flashing at his throat. He’s wearing a white button down, undone to between his pecs. And Billy actually has pecs, because Billy also has a perfect muscled body.

Take a picture, it’ll last longer.

Ha Ha.

“Right,” Eddie spits and rinses, “lets go.”

What. You’re not ready.

“Errr….yeah I am,” Eddie looks down at himself, he even got out the nice jeans for this. It’s his first real proper date with Steve, just Steve, and he is not going to fuck this up. They’re having dinner at Steve’s, and then going to catch a movie, and then maybe milkshakes after.

Perfect.

Absolutely not. You are not going out looking like that.

“But I did the fancy hair stuff. I even dried it the way you said.”

And it looks like, a million percent better, but you gotta’ change. We can’t go looking like this. You want to bag Harrington, don’t you?

“I...alright, fine. Make your suggestions.”

You’re going to ditch those dumb fucking white sneakers for a start.

“Billy, man, I’m not sure about this.”

Eddie eyes himself in the mirror, same jeans, but now with a belt cinching his waist in tight, and tucked into a beat up pair of black boots. His leather jacket over top of a tee shirt that Billy had insisted he cut the arms off of and around six inches off the bottom.

You look good.

Eddie wraps an arm around himself, the scarring is still pink and shiny in places, raised and uneven...ugly looking. The tee shirt gives a couple of inches clearance for bare skin to show above Eddie’s belt.

Trust me, you need to show off those ridiculous hips.

“I don’t have any hips!” Eddie says desperately.

Exactly, stand up straight. Turn side ways, look in the mirror. See how the jacket hangs, it makes your waist look even tinier. He’s going to want to get his hands on that, trust me.

“You can’t know that.”

Yeah I can.

“How?”

Because I want to get my hands on it. Trust me.

Eddie frowns at himself in the mirror, “the scars look fucking terrible. I’m just. Billy man, I don’t think I can do this...”

And then Billy’s there, sliding in behind him, turn, Eddie does, goes where Billy wants him, watches as Billy’s fingers creep around his hips.

“That’s...that’s so weird,” Eddie breathes, it’s like a tingle. Like the ghost of a touch, “I think I can feel you.”

Billy smirks, good, because I can definitely feel you.

One hand creeps further around, Billy watching them both in the mirror over Eddie’s shoulder, his fingers tracing softly across the visible scars on Eddie’s tummy, finding his belly button under his shirt and then moving on. It makes Eddie shiver. He watches, unsure where this is going, but too quickly it’s over, Billy stepping back, and Eddie finding he immediately misses the feeling of Billy’s hands on him.

Billy clears his throat, looking away, come on, lets go bag you your guy.

Okay, so this is about the millionth time Eddie has caught Steve starring at his bare middle and he’s only been in the house for twenty minutes...so I guess you were right.

I’m never wrong about shit like this. Ask him if he sees something he likes.

“See something you like Stevie?”

Steve splutters, going pink to the tips of his ears, “yeah, I, sorry, I’ll just. Sauce.”

In his head, Billy is absolutely braying like a donkey. Wild, joyful laughter that Eddie didn’t even think Billy was capable of. It’s beautiful, and weirdly charming, making Eddie smile at him. But he’s watching Steve turn away with his shoulders hunched up around his ears with embarrassment, and he shouldn’t leave that.

“This okay?” Eddie asks quietly, carefully hugging Steve from behind as he stirs sauce on the stove.

Steve sighs and relaxes back into him, “yeah, yeah it’s good.”

It’s dark as they stand shoulder to shoulder, doing the dishes. Eddie had taken off his jacket, and even though Eddie thinks his arms are stick thin and pale as fuck, that doesn’t seem to stop Steve from looking at them.

He’s so into you.

“What?”

“What?” Eddie grins at Steve, with it dark out and the lights on, he can clearly see their reflections in the windows over the sink.

“You’re grinning.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I’m enjoying myself.”

“Doing dishes?”

“Doing dishes with you,” Eddie amends, hip checking Steve and handing him another dish to dry.

Steve leans over and flicks some suds at him before giggling and moving to put the dish away. Eddie just might be in love. They had decided to skip the movies, staying in and watching something instead. Eddie was immediately up for the change in plans simply because it means he can hold Steve’s hand.

He’s not really expecting Steve to kiss him, not right now. Not lent up against the kitchen counter, and definitely not with his hands still a little wet with sudsy water.

But that’s exactly what happens. It’s a soft press of lips, at first, uncertain. Gentle. And then Steve sighs through his nose, relaxes, and they move together. Steve’s mouth is soft and, when it slides open, damp. Then wet. Eddie finds himself pressing Steve into the counter without really thinking about it, and Steve goes easily.

It’s so good. So fucking good. It’s slow and sweet and gentle, everything Eddie ever dreamed it would be. They part, but Eddie just wants to kiss him again. Wants to kiss him forever. Steve presses in with his tongue first and Eddie’s never been kissed before today, never mind this, and reflexively sucks on Steve’s tongue before he can even think about it.

Steve moans.

Okay then.

Steve’s fingers are squeezing at Eddie’s waist, and he can’t help but shiver, thinking for a moment about Billy’s hands on him. The tingly feeling he felt when Billy touched him and...Eddie blinks, pulling back to look at Steve.

Steve’s beautiful, his lips shiny and a little kiss bitten pink, his cheeks are rosy and he might be the most beautiful thing Eddie’s ever seen. He's probably the only person on the planet who's on a par with Billy.

Steve kisses him, but over Steve’s shoulder, on the other side of the kitchen, Eddie can see Billy. He’s watching them, arms crossed over his chest. Glaring.

He looks...angry. Sad. Fucking furious and fucking devastated in turn and-

“Eddie?” Eddie blinks again, looks back to Steve. “You okay, you kind of...zoned out. That wasn’t like, too much was it?” Sorry if I…”

“No. No it, was great it was. Shit. It’s the best Steve, it was great it was just...”

Steve seems to curls up into himself, pulling his hands back and wrapping himself up instead. “Right. Yeah, okay.”

“I’ll just uhm…” And Eddie’s getting his jacket before he can even think it through, putting it on on autopilot.

What are you doing?

I can’t do this.

Why the fuck not, this is what you wanted, isn’t it?

But is it what you want?

Billy goes silent as Eddie climbs into the van. Steve’s standing at the front door, and jesus, he looks devastated. Fuck.

Eddie can’t do that either.

He angles his mirror, finds Billy hunched moodily in the passenger seat, glaring out of the window. His eyes look suspiciously pink and shiny.

Shit.

Eddie scrambles back out of the van, jogging up to Steve on the porch.

Now what the fuck are you doing?

“Steve, I’m really sorry…”

Oh Munson don’t you fucking dare.

“...but I really have to tell you something.”

[sunboki]

⎯ PAPER PLANES a Kim Seungmin fiction

🛩️ : Kim Seungmin x gn. reader

TROPE. friends to lovers, neighbors to lovers, fluff fluff fluff galore

WORD COUNT. 1.5k!!

WARNINGS. cursing

AUG'S NOTES. still crazy about this concept💀 … i wrote this in 30 minutes in complete silence.. the demons have possessed me…

SYNOPSIS. Life in the city has never been as interesting as this. More specifically starting the moment your newest neighborhood, Kim Seungmin, moved in next door.

or alternatively :

It was only a matter of time before those paper airplanes turned into something more.

City nights are your greatest escapade and your worst nightmare. When insomnia plagues you awake, it’s easy to turn off all your fans and just listen.

New York isn’t called the city that never sleeps for no reason.

Whether it’s the faint honking of a car or the nearest nightclubs obnoxiously loud stereo, 24 hours a day almost every day of the year this city’s eyes remain open, and in essence, it makes you feel a tad bit better about those sleepless nights.

There’s the buzz of your surroundings, but as for your apartment complex, things are pretty quiet.

Well, you did intentionally choose a very much elderly-occupied residency after all.

Until somebody else showed up, somebody who didn’t explain to you on a morning basis of how they’re deciding on their casket.

And he sings.

Headed back from work up the elevator was when you ran into him for the first time. A smidge taller than yourself, puffy hair hanging over his forehead.

Neither of you talked apart from the courtesy “Which floor are you going to?” followed by an equally courteous “Five”, and you realizing you were both headed to the same place.

Elevators are a dangerous place. Anything could go wrong, technical issues, you end up trapped, weird strangers, and a myriad of unfortunate events waiting to happen. What’s worse? The conversations.

Because if there’s one thing you’ve learned from the decades worth of elevators you’ve been on is that they’re either a place to never stop talking or never talk.

As for this discovered neighbor of yours, you spend a solid thirty seconds deciding the right course of action.

“So where’d you move from?” You pique, watching the numbers atop the door slowly increase.

“South Korea,” He responds, and out of the corner of your eye you notice him glancing at you, hands stuffed in his puffer coat’s pockets.

Mouth opening to speak, you immediately close it, evidently surprised. To think how hellish the flight must’ve been humbled you instantly, not to mention how he carried no accent when conversing.

But before you could ask any more questions the doors open and he wordlessly slips past you, leaving you to silently follow.

“Wait!” Calling out prior to him walking through the door, he stops, turning to you with a confused expression adorning delicate features.

“What’s your name?” You voice another inquiry, hand also fastened onto the doorknob.

He blinks, the action scarily resembling a puppy dog.

“Seungmin. Kim Seungmin.”

Seungmin.

Cute.

“Y/n, nice to meet you.” Nodding politely his way, he returns the gesture, a sudden unwelcoming awkwardness creeping further into your skin the longer you both stand there, staring at each other.

And of course your genius of a mind decides to open its big fat mouth.

“..I guess we’re neighbors, huh.”

No shit sherlock, You internally reprimand, wishing oh so badly to leap out of the nearest window.

Sucking his teeth, Seungmin hums agreeably, and you feel like the stupidest person in the world.

“Yeah well, bye!” Panickedly twisted the knob and racing inside to slam the door behind you, you sink to the ground, clutching your head pathetically.

“Y/n…” You whine, addressing yourself like a lunatic. There’s a heavy sigh, a leaning your head back, thumping against the wooden frame.

“…What the fuck is wrong with you.”

Nonetheless, the night you first heard his voice pitch through gleaming neon signs was one to remember.

Typing manically on your keyboard while a half-empty glass of watered down coffee occupied the space beside you, you squint, scrutinizing that same sentence at least a dozen times before ripping the headphones off your ears and raising up frustratedly.

This essay is definitely earning a rightful spot on your thirteen reasons why list, a close second to your first impression on Seungmin last week.

Stretching your arms above your head, you hear it. An entrancing, melodic tone sifting beneath your cracked window, decorating your bedroom in a decadent assortment of color.

Carefully tiptoeing to pry open the window fully, you crane, cheek pressed against cold glass.

It’s Seungmin. Face tipped to the side, lips halfway parted. You don’t know if he’s focused on something or what, but you know he’s the only thing that matters in this moment.

His vibrato, the way he perfectly slices notes into harmonious rhythm pulls you in like a hummingbird to nectar.

You find yourself aimlessly standing there, rocking back and forth of your heels, savoring the effortlessly sweet relief he fills your exhausted soul with.

Day after day he’d sing, voice never ceasing to calm your senses, as if supernatural, into a lulling drone. No thoughts, just him.

Occasionally it’d be a new tune, one familiar, one not. Over and over and over again you’d routinely wait for him, like a child rushing to see their favorite cartoon.

And as a result, Seungmin became one of your biggest sources of comfort without either of you knowing it.

Today is the day.

Reaching over as far as you can muster with the makeshift paper airplane held tightly, you attempt at reading the wind, trying to decipher the best time to launch this secret weapon of yours.

Well, not really secret (somewhat), and also not a weapon, but you get the picture.

This morning you’d taken tedious measures to ensure your innovative paper airplane note would successfully fly, especially since the note inside was just as innovative.

𝙸 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐. Was what it read, and you thought the compliment was pretty appropriate considering how often you’d admire his mellowed tunes in the eve.

Except, the first one was a fail, then the second one, and a third, and by the forth airplane you had paper-cuts all over your hands and a temper teetering on the brink of defeat.

Hey, at least three people today (almost four) would get a “I like your singing” note today.

Whoosh! Your note flies, and just when you begin to lose hope does it switch trajectories, successfully hitting his balcony’s screen door.

To say you shouted was an understatement. Hell, the entirety of New York likely heard your chanting, yelling, and the entourage of oddly proud noises in between.

Noises of which were quickly muted upon said screen door opening, to where you frantically drop down, peering between the chair’s legs to observe his reaction.

Seungmin glances around repeatedly, curiously, prior to peeling back paper folds.

You inhale sharply.

His eyes graze over the sentence, investigating his surroundings again.

No reaction.

You initially deflate, grumbling to yourself defeatedly.

Until a tiny sliver of hope peeks through dark curtains.

Seungmin smiles.

He covers his mouth (an action you don’t understand but start to considering how dazzlingly bright it is), and laughs. A soft laugh that has his shoulders shaking, corner of his eyes wrinkling into charming crescent moons.

You swear there’s a ring of sparkling light outlining him, like something out of a K-Drama.

His smile could (and should) win an award, you’re convinced.

And just like that he disappears back into his apartment, and you chant a nonstop “Oh my god!” a good thirty-six times, unable to contain the feather-light feeling spreading from your fingertips to the very tip of your toes.

Cute. Kim Seungmin was so, so cute.

From the sheepish grins he gives you each time he’s seen you since, you have a hunch he knows it was you who sent the note, but you choose to act oblivious.

Oblivious, before you received a note of your own.

Of course, Kim Seungmin’s paper airplane is perfect, aerodynamic and probably arrived on the first throw unlike your consecutive sacrifices.

Slowly shuffling open the response, you peek through hesitant fingers, slapping a hand over your gaping mouth upon witnessing his obviously perfect handwriting.

𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 :) , It reads. Something so mundane and proper there’s no reason you should be losing your mind, but you are, and the rattling of your heartbeat serves the best explanation.

You make sure to hang the note up afterward, right above your laptop.

So over the next few days, the both of you become more daring, more adventurous. Two paper airplanes turn into four, four to eight, eight to eleven. By now there’s not enough room to hang all of them up.

Meaningless conversations. Asking about dinner plans, what you’re currently doing, what your favorite hobbies are, favorite songs. But yet, they mean so much to you.

Your own, childish way of communicating even though the mature, adult reply would be to knock on his door.

Although, he seems to love it as much as you do.

𝙰𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝? Is scribbled on the airplane he’d sent a few minutes ago.

𝙽𝚘, 𝚠𝚑𝚢? You write quickly onto one, hands nimbly constructing the shape after sending so many. Routine.

Returning to stirring the pot of boiling water in front of you, a familiar tap alerts you, padding over to grasp his letter.

Strangely, a part of you grows more and more excited, plopping down into your chair to gradually take apart his craftsmanship.

Your legs move before you can even register your own feelings, scrambling outside.

Seungmin’s there, breathtaking smile as brilliant as ever despite such dim lighting.

There’s no need to admit you’ve been sending them now. Especially not from the way he gazed at you, the words inscribed on that paper airplane.

𝙲𝚊𝚗 𝙸 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚘𝚗 𝚊 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝?

He bites back an even bigger grin, cheeks dusting rosy pink from the cold air.

Yes.

Absolutely yes.

sunboki, may 2022 ©

[alphajocklover]

Hey ! Recently, I've heard about a guy in my college, a young jock fresh from high school, that honestly acts very weirdly.

Apparently, his friends all went to local universities, while he moved all the way out to the capital, apparently in a bid to get some "elite" education. But that's not really weird, isn't it.

No, the weird thing starts at how he already acts like he's the king of uni, belittling everyone, including those like me who have been here for quite a few years, acting and even stating that he is the "alpha" of our department - as if such an outdated and so obviously false way of classifying people was even remotely correct. But then, he just goes around stating that he needs some "betas". Now, while I can imagine what they must be, those "yes-men" you see in movies accompanying the bully, I can't even begin to see how he wants to bring that to real life ! Especially since he's not in high school anymore !

Well, whatever. The real thing that creeps me out is how he seems to hang out near me weirdly often... Should that be cause for concern ?

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. I’ve only just seen your message. Hopefully there's still enough time for me to warn you. What you’ve met isn’t human. Not exactly. He’s… more.

Most teenage boys go through puberty with drastic changes. They shoot up, gain a bit of hair and possibly some muscle. Their voice deepens, and of course they get some… urges. It’s all very natural. But some teenage boys undergo a… startling transformation. They don’t just shoot up, they tower. They don’t gain a bit of hair, they grow bushes of it. Some shave it so that they can better show off their muscles, but most don’t. Muscle isn’t just possible for them, it’s inevitable. They’re bodies become beefy and hard, even without exercise, though most still become obsessed with lifting weights and getting even bigger. But what sets these boys, or rather these men, apart from the rest most are their urges. They don’t just feel the need to cum like most guys. They get the urge to dominate. The urge to show their power. The urge to fuck.

These men are what’s known as Alphas. And no, that’s not just some arbitrary classification. This isn’t some guy calling himself an alpha male because he’s an insecure Andrew Tate obsessed bitch. What you are dealing with is a real fucking Alpha. Once they were normal people like you or me, but something… awakened in them at some point. Usually during puberty, as I showed before, but it’s not impossible to have an Alpha discover his true self later in life. These men, if they can be called mere men, are bigger, stronger, more dominant than the average man. Much more dominant. So much so that the world seems to… bend to their will. I don’t know how they do it. Maybe they have some sort of special pheromones, or magic powers. But what I do know is when they want something, it just happens. If they want to be good at something, they just are. If they want to win at something, they just do. If they want the world, it’s served up to them on a silver platter with a protein shake.

And if they want you to be their Beta, you will be their Beta.

I’m not kidding. They can just.. change people. You’ve probably already seen some symptoms, in you and your friends. A sudden interest in fitness, in sports, in ‘bro culture.’ A strange growth spurt, the kind that really shouldn’t happen after puberty. An increased libido, a simpler vocabulary. And most of all, a great admiration for your Alpha. Not just admiration, a deep love. A need to do what he says, be what he says. Once those feelings start it’ll be too late to save you. Soon you’ll be nothing more than his Beta. Everything about you will revolve around what they want.

It’s not the worst fate in the world. Most people think that if a horny Alpha could do whatever they want to you, you’d end up a brainless sex doll. But more often than not what they really want is a bro. Or, more accurately, they want bros. Alphas are so competitive that they rarely are able to spend extended periods of time together. It’s like having two leaders of a pack. Eventually they end up locking horns. So they find, or rather make, Beta bros for them to hang out with. Big, but not as big as their Alpha. Sexy, but not hot enough to take any pussy away from the Alpha. Cool but not cool enough to take any attention away from the Alpha. There are some differences based on what the Alpha wants. Some Betas are stoners, some are jocks, some are surfers and some are skaters. It all depends on the Alphas personal aesthetic and taste. But Betas are all muscular, horny, hung, and completely subservient to their Alphas.

If you’re lucky, you can get out. Move somewhere far away, and forget about all of this. If you’re lucky the Alpha won’t care enough to go after you. You can keep your identity and sense of self intact.

But if you’re not lucky? If you’re too far under his influence? If your Alpha has taken a liking to you and won’t let you go? Well…

… be grateful you’re his Beta bro and not his Beta bitch.

**3 post in 2 days! I feel like I’m on fire! Guess I’m just very motivated to write recently. Anyways I hope you guys liked this one! Hope mentioning Andrew Tate wasn’t too political. I hate to let irl politics ruin my online fun. Enjoy!**

[just-another-author-i-guess]

More Judd smut?

More Judd smut yay (,:

Tags: fem! Reader, porn with a little plot?, what the fuck is hormone monster dialogue, everyone is horny fr, Nick and Andrew are creeps, but also scared of Judd, and very curious, questionable babysitting?, smoking, participating in the act of “getting stoned”, smoking inside, use of the word simp un-ironically, Judd gives super useless dating advice, not so safe sex, please use protection! please do not read if you’re uncomfortable with smut(,:

Summary: you and Judd are the designated babysitters for the night.

Read my OG Judd story? Here

Author’s note: hi gang (,: I remember when I was like “mental illness funny haha” but it’s really not funny anymore 🥹 I know I disappear all the time,, and I don’t even wanna apologize this time lol. But anyways, this has been brewing in my docs for like MONTHS and now I’ve come back, humbly offering you another Judd smut since the other one is surprisingly popular. Eat well, my children

The one where Judd gives dating advice

4,4K words

(Note, Judd is so cute and I love him :,)

“I don’t care about those horny little shits, I’m just saying they’re old enough to fuck off and do whatever they want. I don’t want my pissstain of a brother hanging around you, your sister is also fucking weird—“ 

You gently elbowed him. “—You’re fucking weird, Judd. And the kids aren’t really that bad, you’re a bit dramatic, babe,” you said, and he angrily grumbled something in response as he slammed the microwave shut. The microwave made a noise, and you watched the third batch of popcorn slowly expand and start to pop. 

Unfortunately for Judd, your parents had collectively decided to go out the day you had promised him a date. Mr and Mrs Birch got a coupon for a recently opened Thai restaurant and decided to invite yours, Missy’s and Andrew’s parents out for dinner, making you the designated babysitter of the night. Leah had ditched the whole ordeal, and Judd was planning to ditch as well until you sent him a picture of your tits and told him he could still come over if he behaved. 

With Maury clouding his judgement, there was no fucking way he could say no to that. 

So now, he was stuck making popcorn for a bunch of middle schoolers. Not to mention he had a pretty bad track record with the kids, they were all absolutely terrified of him. Except of course Jessie, who was deeply in love with him. He grunted in annoyance, turning around to face you with his arms crossed over his chest. 

He had been muttering complaints under his breath ever since you started setting up for the movie. He was absolutely livid that the kids stole away his one-on-one private time with his girlfriend, but for you (and your boobs) he tried to somewhat restrain himself. 

“Judd, baby, look at me,” you stepped out in front of him, reaching up and gently rubbing his cheek, forcing his attention on you. “I know this is not ideal. But, if you play nice, I have a little something for you when the kids go to bed,” you purred, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

He grabbed your waist, kneading the soft flesh in his big hands. Even though he looked intimidating as all hell, not to mention he absolutely towered over you, he was wrapped around your pinky finger. 

He leaned down and buried his face in your neck. “It better be good, slut..” he grunted, brushing his lips over your neck. You slapped the back of his head, feeling him frown against your skin. “I said behave, bitch-boy.” Your tone was sharp, and he knew not to push you any further. 

“Fine, alright. Whatever.” He grumbled, hugging you closer to his body. 

-

It was precisely 7’oclock when the kids arrived. Jessie was still in her room, not wanting to hang out with you and Judd alone; she had refused to come out after your parents left. 

Surprisingly, Judd was the first at the door. He grinned evilly. “Welcome to purgatory, you little shits.” He said, looking down at the 8th graders menacingly. “Bitch! Your sister's dumb friends are here!” He called over his shoulder. 

You huffed audibly. “Are you gonna let them in or what, numbnuts?” You called back to him, pouring the last packet of popcorn into a bowl. 

He frowned and stepped aside, letting the now pretty frightened kids inside. Missy walked in first, smiling nervously at Judd, then came Andrew and Nick. 

Nick was about to step inside, when Judd put a hand on his shoulder. The younger boy stopped dead in his tracks, praying to whatever god he could think of that his brother would let him off easy. “I didn’t do anything! Judd, I swear, please let me go!” He shouted, voice breaking multiple times.

A ghost of a smirk crossed Judd’s face. “Don’t try shit, or I will rip your tiny dick off and force it down your throat. Got it, asslicker?” 

Nick swallowed thickly, frantically nodding his head. Of course Judd had picked up on his brother's crush on you, as if it wasn’t the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Y-You got it, Judd!” He confirmed, panicked chuckles escaping him. 

“Judd. Let him inside.” You stomped up to them, looking so livid you scared Judd back into being nice as you crossed your arms over your chest. Nick looked away quickly, a pink flush covering his face and neck. 

Judd pushed Nick inside with a frown, once again not being able to refuse you. The kids looked on in bewilderment as the intimidating teen seemed to slightly cower under your glare, complying to your will. He looked down at them with something akin to shame, before following after you like a lost puppy.

The kids were in complete shock. Had Judd been fucking possesed?

You called out to Jessie, telling her to come out of her room, before dragging Judd back into the kitchen. 

-

“Y/nnn! Can you start the movie already?” Jessie whined loudly.

A bit of shuffling could be heard in the kitchen. ”I-In a minute! We’re just fixing some drinks!” You called out, voice slightly shaky.

“.. do you really think they’re getting drinks?” Missy asked, after an agonising minute of silence. The kids sat stiffly on the couch. 

You had told them to make themselves at home, but none of them were able to really calm down with Judd in the house. 

Jessie scoffed. “Does it sound like they’re getting drinks? My sister's kind of a slut if you haven’t noticed.” She spat. 

Nick rolled his eyes. “So is Judd.” 

The two of them weren’t able to get over their jealousy of your relationship, somehow not yet registering that they didn’t stand a chance with high schoolers. 

“Come on guys, that’s not a very nice thing to say,” Missy said nervously, glancing at the kitchen door. 

“Jessie, do you think it’s possible I can get a glass of milk? I feel very dehydrated right now,” Andrew muttered, wringing his hands. 

Jessie sighed and Nick immediately began explaining in detail how Judd would murder him. But ultimately, after a long and intense discussion, the kids decided to venture into the kitchen.

-

“You promised to be nice,” You said over your shoulder, holding Judd’s hand as you pulled him to the kitchen. 

“I am nice.” He huffed, letting go of your hand and instead reaching out to grab your waist. He gently lifted you, setting you down on the counter top before stepping in between your legs. For a moment you thought he would lead it somewhere, but your face morphed into a gentle smile when he buried his face in your neck, hands gently rubbing up and down your sides. 

You softly stroked his hair, making the angry agent of chaos visibly relax as he melted into your touch. “You didn’t even last ten seconds,” You muttered, immediately recognizing his actions as jealousy.

He breathed out against your neck, and you couldn’t help but softly laugh at the tingly feeling. “It was nice enough for me to make the popcorn, do you want me to fucking hand feed them too?” He grumbled, straightening up so he could glare down at you. 

You rolled your eyes. “Calm down there, Mr. grumpy-pants. All I ask is that you remain civil for the night, or at least until the movie’s over,” You gave him your very best puppy dog eyes, reaching up to gently brush your hands over his jaw again. Reluctantly, he leaned into your touch, fighting to keep his angry glare. 

Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t deny how absolutely soft he was for you. Your touch calmed him like no other, not even horror movies or tormenting the neighbourhood made him feel as gleeful as when you touched him. 

He hummed in response, not really registering what you said, too focused on your touch. His own hands travelled from your waist to your thighs, gently squeezing. You let out a soft little sigh and instantly Maury appeared. 

‘What? What’d I miss? You’re gonna fuck?’ The hormone monster asked, observing the situation. ‘Oooh! You should totally have a quickie, let’s see how many fingers you can stuff in her before the kids find out!’ He grinned, shaking Judd by the shoulders.

“Shut the fuck up.” Judd growled, making Maury let out a series of horse laughs. ‘Oh ho ho ho! At least get a good feel of her boob, we need something to get through the movie!’ He said dramatically, before patting Judd’s head and walking off in search of new entertainment. 

Judd thought about it for a moment, before slowly sliding his right hand up your tummy until he could palm one of your tits. 

“Judd,” You said, placing your hand over the one he had on your chest, but not removing it. “You gotta behave, alright? Just for tonight. And you can touch aaall you want after, I promise,” You said, finishing the sentence with a long kiss to his cheek. 

“Fuck. Okay, fine.” He relented, removing his hand from your boob and intertwining his fingers with yours instead. He leaned in, pressing a series of wet kisses to your jaw and neck. 

You hummed happily, half closing your eyes until you caught movement somewhere over Judd’s shoulders. You immediately straightened up, opening your eyes fully only to make eye contact with four completely stupefied middle schoolers. 

The kids were too stunned to speak, literally.

Andrew was stammering incoherently, Nick seemed to find the ceiling very interesting, Missy and Jessi had both turned completely red in face but for very different reasons. 

“Oh. Hello,” You said awkwardly, pushing Judd away and jumping off the counter quickly. 

Your boyfriend in question let out a disappointed grunt, murderously glaring down the kids but keeping quiet. You all stood in complete silence for a few, agonisingly long seconds, until Andrew finally spoke up.

Still wringing his hands, the preteen stepped slightly closer to you. “Y/n, I’m very sorry to interrupt. But could I maybe get a glass of milk? It would really help with my nervous stomach—“ You cut him off before he could go into further detail about his digestive system and smiled warmly at him. 

“—Of course. Why don’t you follow Judd back into the living room, he’ll start the movie for you and then I’ll be right out. Okay?”   

If looks could kill, you’d be six feet under. 

Judd bore holes through your back with his eyes, as you turned to open the fridge. “O-okay! Once again, thank you Y/n,” Andrew said, seemingly relieved.

Slowly the kids turned to walk out the kitchen, drizzling out one after the other. Jessi bore a somewhat mischievous smile, walking a bit slower on purpose in hopes she could walk next to Judd. Your boyfriend sighed heavily, uncrossing his arms and following after the kids. He was slowly coming to realise that he had no other choice, than to be a slave for a gang of middle schoolers. 

The kids were again stiffly seated on the couch, this time with Judd sitting in the far end. Jessie had glued herself to his side, shamelessly sitting as close to him as possible. He was sure he would accidentally hit her if he moved his arm just the slightest.

He was holding the remote, quickly flicking through movies on netflix as the kids fought over what to watch. 

“Shut the fuck up.” He barked. “I’ll find you a good movie,” And by “good movie'' he meant the absolutely goriest horror flick netflix had to offer. 

Judd grinned sinisterly as he chose a movie, looking over to see the kids all sporting comically shocked expressions. 

Andrew carefully glanced at Judd. “Excuse me, Judd, but are you sure this movie is suitable for children?” He asked. 

“Y-yeah. Doesn’t that say you have to be sixteen..? My mom said I shouldn’t watch scary movies until I feel ready,” Missy added.

Nick didn’t say anything. He was scared enough of his brother already to disagree openly with him, and he also didn’t want to seem like a wimp in front of Jessi. 

“It’s about time you little pussies grow up. Be quiet and just watch the fucking movie,” Judd said, as mischievously as his monotone voice would allow him to sound. 

Jessi nodded gravely. “Yeah, guys. Shut up. It’s just a movie,” She said, looking up at Judd with big eyes for approval. He only grunted, pressing start on the remote. 

Within the first few minutes, Andrew and Nick were clinging to each other. Missy was curled in on herself, watching the movie through her spread fingers. Judd grinned evilly, satisfied with his choice as he started digging through his pockets.

He was quick to dig up a lighter and half a blunt. A bloody jumpscare in the movie made Jessi jerk and grab onto Judd’s arm, slightly shaking. He sighed deeply, annoyed, but let it slide. He lit the blunt, throwing his feet up on the coffee table and tilting his head back as he inhaled deeply. 

“Judd, I told you not to smoke inside,” You grumbled, returning to the living room with drinks and even more popcorn. Judd raised his head slightly, cocking an eyebrow at you. “Shut up,” He simply said, gesturing to the way Jessi was clinging to him. 

You had to stifle a laugh, quickly setting the snacks on the coffee table and handing the milk to Andrew, who reached out to take it with a shaky hand, refusing to look at the tv.

Upon noticing the lack of space on the couch, Judd beckoned you to his lap. You happily sat down, Jessi giving you a disturbed look as your body gently pushed hers away. 

“What the hell are we even watching?” You asked, Judd shrugged. “Dunno. Summer camp massacre something,” He said, handing you the blunt as you got comfortable on his lap. 

You took a long drag, nuzzling into Judd as his hands came down to hold your waist, pulling you closer to him. “Guys,” Missy suddenly whispered, eyes glued to you and Judd. “Is that.. Marijuana.. As in drugs?”

Judd chuckled, you could feel him move beneath you as you struggled to keep from laughing yourself. 

You said the only appropriate answer you could scrape from your brain; “Well.. Yeah.” 

Missy’s eyes grew to sorcerers. “You can’t do that! Marijuana is a gateway drug! It could mess up your brain- Oh fudge! It could mess up my brain from inhaling secondhand!” 

This time you couldn’t conceal your giggle, handing the blunt back to Judd as you leaned forward. You smiled softly at the younger. “Don’t worry about it, Missy. You’re way too smart to be corrupted by secondhand smoke,” You said. Missy nodded reluctantly, a small smile appearing on her face as she accepted the compliment.

“Mom will actually kill you,” Jessi mumbled and you fondly ruffled her hair. “She won’t if you keep your mouth shut.” You teased, as she scowled at you. Her eyes quickly left yours, to blatantly stare at Judd as he blew clouds of smoke out his nose. He truly looked like an angry dragon, staring at the movie screen with furrowed brows. 

Jessi went bright red, looking away immediately when Judd turned to meet her gaze. You grinned, ruffling her hair again before relaxing back into your boyfriend. Judd gave another annoyed grumble, but soon relaxed himself. 

Somehow, the kids managed to be quiet for the duration of the movie as you finished the blunt and most of the snacks.

Jessi fell asleep against you, having ended up clutching your hand for safety (probably from the masked killer on screen). Missy fell asleep against Andrew, the two huddled in a pile. Nick had slid down from the couch, attempting to hide from the movie but ending up sleeping under the coffee table.

By the time credits came on screen, you and Judd were the only ones awake. Pleasantly hazy from the smoke session, you turned your head to smile at him.

“You were so good. I like nice Judd,” You muttered, leaning up to press a soft, slow kiss to his lips. 

He immediately deepened the kiss, claiming his price. In a horny daze, his hands migrated to your butt and his tongue invaded your mouth. You sighed, a bit too loudly and let your own hands wander. Over his shoulders, rubbing down his chest and abdomen till eventually they rested just over his belt. 

The hiss that escaped him as your hands pressed to his crotch, definitely did not go unnoticed and you responded in kind by moving from his lips, messily gliding wet kisses down his jaw and neck. You bit him playfully, but still hard enough to leave indents in his perfectly smooth neck. 

‘Oooh, baby!’ Right on time, Connie appeared at your side. She purred like a cat, curling around you and Judd on the couch. ‘Why don’t you hurry and jump right on up on that delicious dick of his? You know he can make you feel reeeeeaaaal good,’ She drawled.

Barely acknowledging her, you dumbly nodded in agreement. 

‘Hurry, dumpling! Don’t got much time before the kiddies wake up,’ She urged you, poking Jessi with a long fingernail, and indeed, your sister was starting to stir. 

You could only let out a frustrated huff. Judd had your hair fisted in one hand and your hip clutched tightly in the other, helping you rut yourself against his growing bulge in long, hazy strokes. He felt good, you felt good, everything felt so, so good and moving away from the heavenly friction could not be more of a bother. 

You leaned forward a bit, which came with resistance considering his tight grip on your hair, and whined lowly in his ear. 

Gently, you nosed at his cheek. “Judd.. the kitchen. C’mon,” You breathed.

He retaliated by grinding up into you, much harder than before, allowing you to feel the entirety of his now, very hard, length. You moaned loudly in response. 

“We need to.. the kitchen— they’re waking up,” It was a difficult task to form the right words, with the increased amount of pleasure, so you scratched his shoulders, gently, to get your point across. 

Leaning in, he captured your lips in a hard kiss, licking into your mouth with such fervour your head was spinning. He let go, biting down on your bottom lip and dragging it back before pulling away completely. 

“Stupid fucking kids,” He gritted, tongue swiping over his lips, plump from kissing. 

Heaving, you bit your bottom lip and batted your eyelashes at him in a most sultry display that was sure to make Connie proud. A sinister grin spread across his face, when he got an idea and he let go of your hair in favour of kneading your ass in both his hands.

“I’ll fuck you on the table, slut, be grateful.” It was a demand, but you didn’t mind because right at that moment, nothing truly sounded more pleasing than getting railed on the dining table in your mothers kitchen. 

A shudder went through you at the thought, warmth slushing in your belly and still, you grinned coyly at him. “Only because you were so well behaved. I’m starting to think you actually like them, Juddy-Wuddy?” You said, motioning to the four kids as you cooed at him. 

You got him with that one. Watching with glee as his jaw clenched and he sent you a look that could only mean one of two things; he was going to kill you or plow you until you could no longer walk. You highly suspected the latter.

Your boyfriend scoffed. “It’s almost cute how damn smart you think you are, huh? You fucking bitch.” He glowered. He despised when you called him that, one of the many terrible nicknames you had overheard his mom call him, and he always fell right into your trap. 

Before you could start to respond, he was rising from the couch, hands manoeuvring under your thighs to lift you up with him. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, legs tighter around his waist to keep his clothed cock pressed up against your core, and nuzzled your face into his neck. 

His hands were warm on your thighs, so big they almost covered them entirely when he spread his fingers. You latched onto his neck again, engraving lots of little purple marks, just how he liked it. 

His response came as a strained grunt, as he barreled into the kitchen and dropped you on the corner dining table. 

The table was cold, you squealed as your thighs dragged along the cool surface and Judd wasted no time, leaning over you and pushing your skirt up to expose your panties. 

A sinister grin spread across his face when he found your panties were already damp and soaked, his award for being a prime example of a boyfriend this evening.

You bucked your hips, mewling for attention and hoping he would be quick to relieve you of the throbbing between your thighs. 

He laughed, low and husky as he watched you writhe on the table beneath him. Your lips were swollen and plump, a deep blush covered your cheeks and your hair was messily spread out over the table’s surface. His dick ached.

‘Boi-oi-oi-oing!’ Maury was right behind him, a wild smile split his face and he let his tongue hang out, looking more like a rabid dog than a hormone monster. 

‘C’mon! Shove your fist inside her, she obviously wants it!’ Maury barked, shaking Judd by the shoulders. The teen shook him off, grumbling a threat as he returned to the task at hand. 

You heaved in a breath, tongue coming out to wet your lips again. “Judd, I swear to god, do something—“ You pleaded, desperately. 

“— have patience. And shut the fuck up.” Judd grunted, long fingers creeping towards the wet patch on your panties. Then, he pressed down, right in the middle of the wetness where your much neglected clit sat.

Gasping, you reached out to grasp his bicep. He pressed down again, keeping his thump there and swirling it in circles. You gasped and whined his name softly, the wet fabric glided over your most sensitive part so well it was hard to think about keeping quiet. 

He was quick to silence you with a kiss, however, as his left hand finally, finally, left the wet patch to pull your panties off. You helped him shake them off, too focused with the cool air blowing on your hot core to notice how he crumbled up your panties and stuffed them in his back pocket. 

You begged for him again, whines disappearing into his open mouth as he kept it slotted over yours. 

He shushed you, putting his weight on his right hand as he leaned in further between your legs, suddenly stuffing two fingers into you, in one smooth motion. You cried out so loudly and desperately that not even Judd’s wet kisses could conceal it, he gave you another rough thrust of his fingers in retaliation.

Your eyes were half closed, lips forming an ‘o’ as he pulled away from your mouth to bite at your neck. His fingers reached a depth that your own could not, hitting a softer, mushier spot in your pussy that had you seeing stars each time. He was so rough with his thrusts too, working quickly and effectively to bring you to ecstasy and making the table rattle slightly. You could only pray that the slight scraping on the tiled kitchen floor could not be heard in the living room.

What was much louder, however, were your own loud gasps and breathy moans of your boyfriend's name. The closer you got, the louder your pleas became. 

Judd bit your neck again, hard enough to turn the skin purple. “I said, be quiet, bitch.” He groaned into your neck, panting slightly as the pace of his hand increased. 

You tried, but really couldn’t. The lewd squelching sound and the rapid stroking of his two fingers against your g-spot had you mewling and bucking against him. And it certainly didn’t help, when his thumb pressed down on your clit as well. 

His slender fingers didn’t create much of a stretch, but you knew he was preparing you for his monstrous cock and because his fingers were so deliciously long the waiting time was never disappointing. 

You could vaguely hear Connie bustling about in the background, shouting her encouragement and coaxing you to tell Judd all sorts of lewd things. You didn’t listen, you couldn’t when you were so, so close to your breaking point. 

With your body on fire, liquid pleasure in your veins, your toes curled and you tilted your head to allow Judd better access to the unmarked parts of it. He graciously took the opportunity, returning his grip on your head to position you just how he wanted.

Your thighs clenched around Judd’s arm, lip trembling as your eyes crossed in pleasure. “Judd..!” 

And then he was pulling away, you whined desperately in the process, only to be silenced with a large hand slapped across your mouth. 

“I told you to be quiet, bitch.” He snarled, his voice now so deep and feral it made you shiver. He squeezed your cheeks together, a bit of drool escaped your mouth and smeared on his hand, as he pulled you to a sitting position. “Didn’t I?”

Your pussy throbbed, clenching around nothing at both the rough treatment and being so suddenly void of stimulation. 

With your cheeks squished together, you couldn’t respond, so you opted for frantically nodding your head, softly whining out for him. You needed him inside you, and it had to be now. 

You rutted yourself against the table, slick following you and making a trail on the wooden surface, it felt good, but definitely not as good as Judd’s cock would feel. 

“Pw-pf..a..e.. Pwase!” You begged him, hands wandering towards his belt, feeling him up and unbuckling his belt buckle. You gasped quietly, he was so hard it had to hurt and the feeling of him pressed to your palm made you clench around nothing again. Despite the layers of clothes between you. 

He moaned, but reached down to gather both wrists in his free hand and pinning them together. “You think you think you deserve that? After all the fucking noise you made?” 

You cried out and nodded. Judd grinned sinisterly. “You’re so pathetic, you little slut. You know that?” 

You wanted to kick him, or at least insult him back but the throbbing in your cunt and the fact that his words only made that throb so much worse, made it quite hard to do so. 

Then, he leaned in, resting his chin on top of your head and inhaled your hair deeply. “You’re my little slut.” He grunted and, oh, you could have cum right there. 

You nuzzled into him, burying your head where his neck became his chest and started leaving small, wet kisses. 

He didn’t let go of either your wrists or mouth, instead he barked one simple order; “Off.” and brought your bound wrists towards his crotch again. 

You didn’t need to be told twice, immediately getting to work and shoving both his pants and underwear as far down as your position would allow you to grab at his dick. 

Hissing in pleasure, he pulled you closer to him. He was throbbing and warm in your hand, heavy and so swollen the head had almost turned purple, you tried lifting yourself up, tried to get just the tiniest bit of friction. 

You pumped him slowly, he was sticky with pre-cum already and he dropped his head into your hair again, burying his face into you with a strained groan. He, too, was close to his breaking point.

Letting your wrists and cheeks free, he opted to grab under both your hips, lifting them up to hover above his dick. You let go of him, fingers coming to scratch at the table as he did the remainder of work for you and you fell back on the table. 

“This what you want?” He grunted, thrusting experimentally and nudging his cockhead against your swollen little pearl. 

“Yes.. yes, yes! Please, Judd, it hurts, I need it..!” You blabbered, cheeks puffy and face screwed up as you felt your empty pussy ache with anticipation. Only your boyfriend's dick could ease the twang in your lower belly. 

He inhaled sharply through his nose, face set in stone and brows drawn together as he finally thrusted into you, filling you so completely in that one thrust, that you suddenly felt too full. 

The bit of pain from the wide stretch you felt melted into white-hot pleasure almost as soon as it appeared and when Judd pressed a bit more into you, his hip bones meeting yours, you came instantly. 

You cried out, overwhelmed by the sudden and immense pleasure. Judd cursed, rather loudly and tried pressing further into you, holding you flush against him as you clenched uncontrollably around him. You were even tighter now, so tight it almost hurt and so he waited for you to ride out your orgasm, breathing heavily. 

“Shit.. fuck you! Ah!” He nearly whined at the feeling, blunt nails digging into the plush flesh on your hips. 

Panting, sobbing and sighing, you slowly came down from your orgasm, not at all ready when Judd suddenly started thrusting again. You were already overstimulated, but the wide stretch and feeling of his cock inside felt so heavenly.

You couldn’t help the never-ending mantra of his name that escaped you, matching each of his violent thrusts. He wanted you to feel him as deep as possible, you knew, and he made sure of it. Leaning in over you to hit you at a deeper angle, pressing down on your belly as he fucked you to see himself bulging through. 

“Judd, m’so full,” You slurred, digging your nails into his shoulders, as deep as they would go. He grunted a response, sweat gathering on his dark brows; “You gotta be quiet, baby.” He was strained as he spoke, teeth clenched and warm breath fanning your face.

Then, he squeezed under your thighs again, sliding you towards the edge of the table. “Spread your legs.” He demanded gravelly, and you easily complied. He pressed himself to you further, barely pulling out after each thrust, but doubling the force in which he thrusted. 

The table scraped loudly against the floor, you whimpered and tried to quiet yourself, face heating as the room filled with squelching sounds that definitely didn’t leave anything to the imagination, should anyone overhear. 

Already, you started to tighten around him again, your thighs quivered as you did your best to keep them apart. Judd noticed almost immediately, bringing his thumb down upon your puffy clit. 

“C’mon pretty girl, cum for me again,” He panted and you followed suit, before you could cry out, though, he captured your lips with his own, chest pressed to yours. 

You sobbed into his mouth as his tongue licked flames into you, clutching him to you. His thrusts became irregular, driving you into the table until he couldn’t hold out anymore. He moved to pull out, but you stopped him, keeping him pressed against you. “Don’t.. they’ll see— in-inside.” You panted into his mouth, and almost immediately felt a slush of warm liquid fill your lower belly. 

Judd grit his teeth tightly, jaw fully clenching and breath heaving. His green eyes were dark and glazed, he straightened up a little, raising himself on his forearms to look down at you. 

You were drooling slightly, makeup a bit smudged as you laid out on the table, revelling in the feeling of complete satisfaction and Judd’s cum filling you.

He waited a while to pull out, watching with interest as your tummy swelled ever so slightly from the combining force of his dick and his spend. 

“You’re fucking horrible at being quiet,” He eventually stated.

You puffed out your cheeks, sitting up and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “It wasn’t me who made the table move,” you countered.

Judd’s hands ventured up your back, holding you to him. “You whine like a bitch in heat,” He countered, monotonously, in the most endearing way he could possibly put it. Because honestly, he loved the sounds you made. 

Maury clapped him on the back and barked something at him, reminding him that the two of you were indeed not alone and he pulled out of you. You sighed as he slipped out, feeling your combined liquids leak out a bit as well. 

He was quick to pull his pants and boxers up, turning from you to fetch a roll of paper towels. As he always did, he insisted on cleaning up for you. 

You had asked him about it once, getting the lame response of; “I like to keep my things clean.” 

Fixing your skirt to cover yourself, you found that your panties were nowhere in sight and fixed Judd a look. 

Your boyfriend shrugged. “This is your house, just get another pair.” You blew a raspberry at him. “I’m actually gonna run out of underwear because of you.” 

He didn’t care, it was quite obvious, so you kissed his jaw and jumped from the table, to get yourself a new pair. Judd didn’t miss his chance to roughly squeeze your ass as you walked past him. 

-

Nick awoke to a strange sound. The loudest being the scraping of something on the floor, then he heard you cry, loud and continually as though you were in pain. 

Immediately he sat up. The room was dark and the tv static, he drowsily looked around, his four friends sleeping soundly on the couch. Andrew moved his foot, coincidentally pinning Nick down with it. Groggily, he sighed and pushed Andrew off him. 

He swayed a bit as he stood up, rubbing his eyes to get the sleep out of them. His brother and you weren’t anywhere to be seen, the spot where you previously was sitting now occupied by Jessi, sleeping in a starfish position. 

That was when he heard the sound again, the scraping and then the desperate gasping. This time, though, he heard his brother’s raspy voice as well. What the hell was going on?

‘Judd and Y/n are wrestling,’ Suddenly his temporary hormone monster, Tyler emerged from the kitchen with a disturbed look. 

“What?” Nick was way too tired to process something like that. 

‘They’re rolling around on the table! Like this!’ Tyler got on top of the coffee table, and started intimidating something that definitely did not look like wrestling.

Tyler noticed Nick’s confused expression. ‘Yeah! And she keeps crying and saying his name— like, like this!’ The monster proceeded to do an utmost terrible impression of you calling for Judd and Nick cringed. ‘— and then, Judd told her to shut up and called her a slut! I think he’s gonna get her in a chokehold. I wouldn’t put my money on Y/n, though, she’s not even trying to fight him off—‘

“— Yeah, I don’t think they’re wrestling, Tyler.” Nick deadpanned, cutting the deity short. He felt his face grow increasingly red, as your sounds grew. Now, even he could hear you beg Judd for all sorts of lewd things. 

‘Oh.’ Tyler blinked a couple of times. Nick shivered, he definitely did not need to hear his brother bone his girlfriend (on whom he had a crush) or explain the situation to his hormone monster. 

The two of them remained in uncomfortable silence for a while, Nick pacing back and forth to clear his head of any inappropriate thoughts that Tyler was coaxing him into, once he had figured out the situation. 

Eventually, Nick settled on waking Andrew. 

“Andrew,” He pushed his friend and whispered again. “C’mon, wake up, Andrew,” 

The latter mumbled something incoherent, adjusting his glasses in his sleep. Nick groaned and shook him, not relenting. “I never peed in that pool!” Andrew woke up shouting, and Nick tumbled back in surprise. 

“What?” Nick hissed. Andrew looked about wide eyed, seemingly as groggy as Nick. “I— what?” Andrew repeated. He blinked at his friend slowly, not yet aware of the circumstances. 

He pulled Andrew from the couch, and put a hand over his mouth. “Listen,” He whispered, and watched as his friend's expression turned from annoyed, to confused, to very very startled. 

“Oh my god. Oh my god, oh my god!” Andrew stammered. Nick removed his hand. “Is that— are they?” His head snapped from Nick to the kitchen entrance and back again. 

The shorter nodded once, stiffly. “What do we— do we do anything? We could go back to sleep before Judd— oh god, what if they find out we heard?”

Nick turned to his panicking friend, determination clear in his eyes. “We need to go see for ourselves.” 

Andrew’s eyes grew impossibly larger, to the size of sorcerers. “What? No! No, no, normally I come up with those kinda terrible ideas— are you okay, Nick?” He put a clammy hand to Nick’s forehead, fauxingly checking his temperature.

Nick clicked his tongue, annoyed, and waved his friend’s hands away. “Think, Andrew! You have a crush on Y/n, I have a crush on Y/n, haven't you imagined her like that a lot of times, anyway? We can just look, really quickly,” 

“Uuhh, I— I don’t know,” He stammered, eyes flicking to the kitchen door. 

Nick sighed. “I’m going to go look.” His statement was final, as he marched off. Andrew wrung his hands, definitely not unaware of his own desire to see what his two designated babysitters were up to, and his legs seemed to follow after Nick all by themselves. 

The two stopped by the door, neither daring to actually peek inside yet. 

“Judd, m’so full,” 

Both boys stiffened at the sound of your voice, breathy and begging and definitely not how you usually spoke to them. 

Then, Judd grunted; “You gotta be quiet, baby.” Followed up by a harsh command of; “Spread your legs.”

Nick swallowed, and Tyler pushed him further towards the door, squealing at him to look. Suddenly, his previous courage had completely disintegrated and he looked at Andrew, panicked.

The other was just as alarmed, sweat beating his forehead as the scraping sounds picked up and they realised the weight of the situation. 

They stood there for a while, completely perplexed, having been so scared off by your vulgar statements that neither dared to move. Andrew shut his eyes tightly, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he heard Maury in the room as well. He was barking orders at Judd, all of which went completely ignored, and cheering the two of you on.

Then, after what felt like aeons, the noise quieted down and the two preteens listened as you had a quiet conversation. Judd was way less mean, when he talked to you in private, they both noted. Only when you went off to get another pair of briefs, did they realise their mistake. But it was too late for them to move, instead they both stood there with rapidly beating hearts, faces bathed in red with sheepish expressions as you exited the room. 

You stuck your head out the entrance first, yelling in surprise when you caught sight of the two boys. “Oh my god.” You breathed, then realising that they probably heard most of what just went on.

Caught red handed, you couldn’t bear to look neither of them in the eyes. You straightened, quickly walking past them and holding your skirt tightly around your bottom. 

Levelling your voice the best you could, you called to them over your shoulder; “Judd’s in the kitchen, if you need anything,” You squeaked, bounding upstairs to your room before they could properly take in your dishevelled appearance. 

Nick panicked, now they had to go in the kitchen, or suspicion would surely arise. He grabbed onto Andrew’s sleeve, willing his legs to move and take the final few steps into the kitchen.

Into the dragon's den, where Judd, the dragon resided. 

“H-hi. Judd.” Nick stammered. Judd had his back to them, raiding the fridge for anything to drink. You had only stocked up on diet sodas.

The older teen acknowledged them with a grunt, not bothering to turn before his drink-mission was complete. The two boys stood awkwardly in the middle of your kitchen, waiting for whatever reign of terror Judd would have prepared for them; but none came. 

Judd slammed the fridge door shut, and to their total surprise, threw each boy a Diet Coke. “Need anything else?” He drawled, sauntering to the table and slumping down in a chair. He opened a coke for himself and got comfortable in his chair, downing almost the entire can in one go. 

Andrew and Nick shared a glance, and simultaneously inched towards the table. The two of them sat down quietly, still waiting for Judd to scare them away. 

But he was completely out of character, for once, he looked kinda relaxed. Albeit a bit sweaty and tousled, but as calm as Nick had ever seen his older brother. His eyes lingered on Judd’s neck, where he bore a collection of teeth indents, smudges from your lipstick and hickeys.

The three sat in silence for a bit, listening as the light under the cabinets buzzed and eventually Judd got up to fetch another soda. 

“You want any more?” He asked the two, and they politely declined. He shrugged and returned to the table with a new can. 

Nick fiddled with the top of his can, eyes flitting around the room nervously. “Judd. Can I ask you a question?” He dared not look up as he spoke, keeping his eyes planted on the table.

Judd grunted, his way of saying ‘go ahead.’

“Why are you being so nice to us?” The question visibly caught Judd a bit off guard, he stopped drinking for a brief moment, thinking the question over before his stoic exterior returned. 

“Y/n wants me to be nice to you. She likes you small assholes,” He shrugged. 

Andrew looked at the older bewildered. “Y/n told you to be nice to us?” He asked, voice cracking as if he couldn’t believe his own ears. 

Judd frowned. “That’s what I said, wasn’t it?” He snapped.

Andrew swallowed thickly. “Y-yeah. Sorry,” 

“But— I mean, why? She’s not even here, and, you usually don’t listen to anyone,” Nick was unrelenting, now past the point of caring if Judd would beat him up for asking questions. 

A pregnant pause wove through the room, as Judd thought about the question. He still looked considerably less angry than usual, but his features were set in a frown and his brows drew together and made it look like he was planning something sinister. 

“I do what she says because I love her.” He said eventually, glaring off into space as he thought his answer over.

Neither of the two boys could believe their ears. The Judd Birch had just declared his love publicly. It must have been the post-nut clarity. 

When they failed to respond, he continued on; “Sometimes you gotta do dumb shit, even if it’s fucking annoying, to keep a girl.” He mumbled, still deep in thought. Had the situation been different, Nick would have found it quite funny to hear Judd talk about such tender things in his gruff voice. 

Andrew leaned over the table, adjusting his glasses. “Is— Is that how you get a girlfriend?” 

At that, the corners of Judd’s lips moved upwards ever so slightly. He turned fully to them, a wicked look in his eyes. “That’s how you get laid, numbnuts.” 

Then Nick cut in; “But what after? What if I like this girl, and I really wanna touch her boobs, but I also want to talk to her. I mean just talk. Because she’s smart, and funny, and really nice,” 

Judd dug through his back pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and opened the window on the wall behind him. He stuck one between his lips, and offered the pack up to the boys. 

“We’re twelve.”

Judd merely shrugged and lit his own cigarette. “If you wanna touch her tits, you gotta talk to her first. And don’t be a little creep. Charm her and shit,” He explained. 

Nick deadpanned. “Charm her?” Judd was everything but charming. It would forever remain the greatest mystery to him, how his brother managed to pull any girls at all. 

Andrew pushed up his glasses. “Actually, what Judd is saying is true. You need to make her feel as if you care about her—“ 

“—I do care about her!” Nick protested. 

Judd flicked a bit of his cigarette off over the window still. “Then it’s easy. Just talk to her, pussy.” He inhaled a long drag. “If she’s into small pricks, you’ll be just her type.”

The younger pouted. “Not funny, Judd.”

Judd cackled, lowly, sinisterly. “Then, how do you know if a girl likes you?” Andrew asked. 

“She lets you touch her tits.” 

Nick sighed. “C’mon, Judd! There has to be more to it— I mean, you have a girlfriend, so you obviously know.”

The eldest grunted and exhaled smoke through his nose. He thought for a bit before replying; “I was at a party, and I saw this girl, Y/n, and she was really fucking hot. Is really fucking hot,” He fixed the two middle schoolers a pointed look. “So I talked to her, turns out she’s really fucking sweet too. And when you meet a girl like that, all the rest comes naturally,” He finished his explanation, a bit smug as the two boys looked at him in wonder. 

“Not to offend, b—but haven’t you dated lots of girls? How’d you do that?” Andrew asked. 

Judd put his cigarette out in his, now empty, coke can. “Sure I have. You can also just fuck girls, but it’s a lot more fun if you like them,” He said. 

“How do I do that, then? Do I have to talk to her too, even if I don’t like her?” Andrew was a bit eager now, but Nick had to admit that he was also itching for answers. 

“No matter what, you gotta talk to her. Maybe not for long, and if you just wanna fuck, you have to say the right things,” He said, and then quickly added. “But don’t do that. I don’t want you two turning into little dicks,” 

“Then.. What if you’re already friends with her?” It was a bit of a jump in topic, but Nick had to get answers, and right now was probably the only time he had the opportunity to ask. 

Judd snorted. “You want to fuck one of your friends out there?” He cackled, motioning to the living room. 

Nick turned red very quickly. “No.” 

“Fuck, you’re a little simp!” The eldest was finding Nick’s personal troubles a little too funny, and he huffed, glaring at his brother. “But all the rules still apply. Be charming, talk to her, and don’t be a creep.” Judd eventually added, nodding at his brother. 

“Thank you, Judd.” Nick muttered, and he meant it. 

“Yeah, thank you, Judd,” Andrew echoed. 

Judd grunted. “Yeah, whatever. But don’t, ever, spy on me and Y/n again. I mean it. Or I will gut both of you like fucking fish.”

Hi, hello,, thank you of making it this far!

Originally, I wanted to label this “16+ do not interact if you’re younger” but honestly I ate shit like this tf UP when I was 13 💀 idk if I made Judd a little too OOC, sorry big mouth writers ☹️✋ I hope you enjoyed, though

Small rant + update; tumblr has been acting up on my phone lately, idk what I did to make it so laggy lately, but I have to post from my computer now ),: ALSO I’m so mad I keep forgetting that the cursive I make in Google docs doesn’t work in tumblr ahhhhHHHH so I had to go over the whole thing again, I’m pressed

And anyways, I’ve been working on a really big project for a while now, it is literally my baby, and it’s a Loki x reader because I finally watched some marvel movies lol, I’ll wait with posting it till it’s completely done bc rn it’s kinda a mess (and not nearly done) but if anyone would be interested in beta reading the first 5 chapters please don’t hesitate reaching out to me!

You are wonderful! Thank you for reading <3

Request something? HERE!

Tags? @dlfvrr (this was the only instance I could find of someone wanting to be tagged in my Judd stuff, please reply to this if you do want to be tagged)

[theotherbuckley]

Love your page! Do you take fic requests? Really wanting an angsty fic where Tommy is hurt and an ignorant hospital worker tries to keep Buck from seeing him.

Thank you for the kind words anon💜 here's the fic:

i thought it would be me

bucktommy | 3.7K | T

Buck really thought he would be the one to get hurt first. He’s pretty sure the universe is out to get him, and he’s had a near-death experience every other year, so he really expected he’d be the one in the hospital.

He should have known his bad luck would lead to Tommy being in that position instead—because that hurts more.

Getting a call at three AM is far less unusual than it should be, and yet, it still doesn’t prevent his heart from working overtime, pounding in his ears as he reaches to grab his phone from the nightstand.

He’d thought Tommy would be home by now.

Buck’s at his place, in his bed, wrapped in his sheet because they had plans tomorrow, and Tommy had told him to just spend the night, that way they could wake up together.

They’ve been dating for a little over four months now—and Buck has his key.

He still can’t believe it. It makes him feel a little giddy every time he remembers—he has to take his keys out of his pocket every time just to stare at them and smile.

With Tommy, everything feels so right. It’s not weird that he’s in Tommy’s bed because it’s just normal. He loves how Tommy enters the room, trying to be as quiet as possible, but Buck wakes up anyway. He loves the way Tommy creeps into bed and hugs Buck to his chest. It’s always the best sleep he ever has.

Except tonight, as it’s three AM, and Tommy’s shift was supposed to finish at twelve, and Buck’s alone, in a bed that suddenly feels all too big and much too cold.

His phone is still ringing in his palm.

His hand shakes because he knows what they’re going to tell him, but he wants to delay the inevitable for as long as he can.

It feels like an hour has passed when Buck finally accepts the call. He doesn’t even manage to let out a shaky “hello” before there’s yelling on the other end of the line.

“Where the fuck are you?” Smith’s voice practically growls through the phone.

He’s confused, but the ringing in his ears doesn’t let up. Smith is one of Tommy’s coworkers. He seems like a cool guy, not that Buck’s spent much time around him. Tommy tells him that he’s one of the best, the first person at harbour to really make Tommy feel like he could be himself.

“Uh…” Buck says eloquently, his voice breaking through layers of sleep.

“I told the hospital to call you three hours ago, so where the hell are you?” Smith seethes.

The word “hospital” stabs through Buck’s chest like a knife.

The ringing in his ears reaches its peak until the only thing Buck can hear is “hospital” over and over and over again.

It’s like tunnel vision in his brain—he can’t hear Smith still speaking through the line—can’t think—can’t blink—can’t breathe.

His breaths are too shallow. He tries to ask Smith what he’s talking about, but only a pained whimper leaves his throat.

He closes his eyes, tries to focus on the tinny voice coming from his phone. Then, patting his lips together, he forces his mouth to work, and says, “What—what happened?”

continue reading on ao3

[voidcat]

— to tug and pull (at the strings; and of my heart)

characters: Endo Yamato, you

notes & wc: 3.1k. Endo as his own warning kinda. Themes of loneliness in a crowd, shitty friend group and Endo taking advantage of it. Toxic relationship all over. Implied past sexual encounters if you squint. Suggestive content a little by the end. GN! Reader but mentions of wearing heeled shoes (Endo is into it). Reader isn’t as good of a person as theyre making themselves out to be btw lol

“Well well… look who’s there…”

A voice comes from behind you, so clear amidst the crowd of various sounds. The place is loud and crowded- yet the chaos of rising sounds are all muffled down by your ears.

The night, as young as it may be, has already fallen for you and with everyone else to their own world; the same old superficial, banal and tedious things, you’re left alone with your own thoughts— or so you thought until the all too familiar, annoying voice creeps up from behind you.

Great- Because the last thing you needed on this damned night was Endo fucking Yamato ruining your already bothersome day.

“Now what’s with the face?” Endo coos, arms resting against his head “a smile would’ve suited that pretty face of yours better.”

You let out a grunt at his words and roll your eyes, averting your gaze to your phone. It’s not like you have any urgent business but you don’t have any better of a quick excuse you can make up and act right there.

Endo doesn’t seem fazed by your clear dismissal of him, he is quite amused on the contrary. So he stands there and waits, patiently.

Rhythmic shake of your foot to the music evolves into tapping it against the floor and by the second Endo can tell you’re growing impatient.

“What a merry group of friends, wouldn’t you agree?” He begins and jumps over the couch’s backseat to seat himself beside you, legs dangling off the armrest at a weird angle.

“You’re sitting all by yourself by the side, no one to care nor even notice your lack of presence in their conversations.” He clicks his tongue with a shake of his head, disapproving of the state you’re currently in.

“I mean… really now,” honey laced words come out, one hand slowly working up its way to your shoulder. “What a bunch of losers, and they’re supposed to be what— your friends?” He says the words with disgust, “they don’t even see you, let alone notice your boyfriend dropping by~”

“You are not my boyfriend.” You snap at him, saying each word with malice. 

So that gets your attention huh. Endo enjoys the poison in your words, relishes in the taste. It’s only the appetizer after all.

“I’m a boy and your friend, no?” He says innocently, bringing a finger to his lips. 

“No!” You retort, a tad louder than you intended, “you’re not my friend, you are not my anything!” 

Yet your words reach his ears as something melodic, nothing coherent. 

He makes himself comfortable on the couch, fixing up his posture a little but still maintaining skin contact with you no matter how many times you shrug his hand off.

You deserve a drink, you muse. But the logical part of your brain protests. You’ve digested all you’ve eaten for dinner already. Drinking on an empty stomach is not a nice experience to have. And it’s certainly not a wise choice to make when someone such as Endo is within your parameters.

So you opt for the next best thing and gulp down cold water like it is electrolytes.

Even if he notices, he makes no move. He has probably raised an eyebrow at your sudden actions and examining the situation before his eyes to decide what course to take next.

“I’m a closer candidate to being your friend than they are though.”

Ah, there it is. The silence breaker he saved to hit at the right moment, in the hopes of you- what- suddenly break in front of him? Your eyes filling up with tears so uncontrollable whatever touch up you’ve applied to your face will wash off? What does he think of you?

And more importantly- does he really think so lowly of you? Stupid enough to fall for his measly tricks?

There is no situation to assess but certainly enough of an excuse to just call it a night and bail out.

These are not the crowd of people you’d choose to hang out with no matter the time and place but the circumstances call for mutual interests. Every lamb by their leg or however the saying goes. You’d much rather be somewhere else, preferably kilometers away from this loud place and away from him.

You do not want to give him what he wants but the story writes itself before him already. The script plays itself out. There is a stranger by the table sitting all too comfortably next to their supposed friend and none of them seems to notice nor care. It’s not like their noticing would’ve changed things were he to show up a few hours before. They would've chalked it up as someone you just act around with a little Coquetry. Starting off as cold and distant but indulging his teasings under the table, disgusting.

You can feel Endo’s eyes going up and down, giving you a one-over and inspecting everything you have on, down to the buttons. He may be keeping that mouth of his shut for now, but that’s the case with him, his silence is loud, always at the times you least need him to be. Fine, he can ogle all he wants- that's the most he is getting in this damned place. And it's not like you didn't dress up… can't blame the man for once actually,

The air may not be chilling or hanging off your skin but times like these make you wish you were smoking. Just a way to pass the time, to keep your hands busy. the cloud of smoke would occasionally cover las stupid face, granting you the illusion of a night headache free. Blowing the smoke right into his face would be risky though. He could take it up as you being playful with him.

With a cigarette dangling off your lips or hanging between your fingers and gaze focused on something far behind where no one can see, you could’ve been the quiet and mysterious figure.

But instead you’re just you, a sad lonely pathetic person who doesn’t even allow themselves the courtesy of being drunk.

To hell with it, you push yourself off your seat swiftly and let the night air crash into your lungs. They can handle a little multiplication on their own, put two and two together, extract one.

And with it, you get out of the place without looking back, letting the music drown and be replaced with the street chatter.

Despite the hour and the day, it is quite lively out there, though a bit scattered.

When sudden rain comes pouring down, some groups of people ran and hid away to whatever crook they could find, staying there until the sun comes up.

It is late, but not for someone your age. Everyone outside is having fun, laughing around, walking to their next destination to do god knows what and here you are, heels clicking against the tiles, searching for a market with your eyes. 

You’re certain someone would make a joke about your state now, “they should’ve been at the club, not spiraling down a waterfall of isolating thoughts” but you are you and as for all to see, this is the situation you’re stuck with for the foreseeable future.

The night is young, younger than you’ll ever feel.

And the fact pisses you off deeply. Add to the equation the nasty hit of hunger and all you’ll have left in the pot is a very grumpy, lonely person.

At some point during your hurried walk, you're acquired a bottle of water. Opening the cap, you down the liquid in two quick gulps. The cold water meeting the surface of your stomach, you're reminded rather cruelly that water holds no nutritious value and your poor body is resenting the fact.

You have water at the very least. And hey it is Important to focus on the good, rather than dwelling on the what - could-have- been's. You're out of the tedious place and still young. Not dying of thirst nor a broken heel and best of all not pinned to the wall of that place's bathroom under Endo's hungry eyes, body trapped between the mirror and his.

As you take a step grander than the previous ones, you miscalculate– as you’ve been doing all night long, and step into the little puddle of water instead. Your face scrunches up in disgust, not checking to see how clear the water was.

Why did you think it was a good idea to wear something with heels today? Miscalculations and foolish decisions… you go for comfort above all for a reason, after all.

As you walk, you try not to press onward with the overgrowing nasty thoughts, regarding yourself and regarding life.

So what if you’re not living life as expected of you? You do not owe anything to anyone. You know this, deep down in your chest you believe in the fact, but with each step you take and each face you pass by in a blur in all your sole glory; it loses its credibility by the minute.

The night is young yet you’ve used up all your time, already far too late, already so behind everyone else– and worse of all, all by yourself.

You clutch the water bottle in your hands until it makes a loud noise and the sharp edges of the plastic begin to cut into your skin and only then you find it in you to breathe again.

But you are not alone, are you? At least not in the physical sense.

Because as your brain runs a mile per second, your feet hurting and bones begging for a rest, Endo Yamato trails right behind you, hands in his pockets and his steps on the same spots as you’ve stepped.

You are not alone, no, not when Yamato follows after you like a lost little puppy, careful enough to maintain his distance so as to not get yelled at, close enough to keep you at bay.

An uneasy feeling begins to grow inside you, saying you know how this story will end, again.

That’s the thing with Yamato, you muse, as you take the escalator and wait. Despite his claims, he knows how to get under one’s skin, knowing exactly what to tell and how to say it. He sweetens his voice, lolls the words and bats his lashes at you– or the occasional ‘hit ‘em where they’re weak’; once he gets inside someone’s head, it's hard getting him out.

And You find yourself despising Yamato for all the wrong reasons.

Perhaps that’s where the true irony of it lies, just two hypocrites, the two of you are.

You blink and watch the swarm of people making their way to the door, the short train ride coming to a finale for you. Compared to the rest of your day, it was perhaps the most peaceful moment you’ve had to yourself. 

The bright lights show when the next train will be arriving as well as the time– 23:12, still moments away from calling the night to an end.

5 minutes by train makes a stark difference, as you are met with the familiar darkness and silence. Here, the people are much calmer, there is no rush, nor guilt for not living your life like they do. Here, you can just exist and carry out the life of an elderly and no one would bat an eye at it.

Yet, the silence is predatory, and the darkness goes beyond being just a comfort. You know better than to trust something just because you have fond memories of it.

Maybe that’s the thing with you, a part of the same darkness, cut from the same clothing. Knowing you’re walking right into your impending doom and still going along with it.

Yamato has been uncharacteristically silent behind you the whole time, you acknowledge after a while. Because for the two of you, it is a game he plays, and the thrill he enjoys. The back and forth bickering; he will sing you praises he wouldn't say to anyone else and you'll answer back with insults crafted and designed just for him— it always gets him giddy with glee, saying there is care and attention to your words despite acting the opposite. He is odd, and that's just it. No matter what you do or dont, there is always something greater to your actions, he seems to think.

Yamato’s attention burns like fire, you’ve learned through simple observations and have steered clear ever since.

As much as it is flattering, that’s the thing with him. Give in and he will lose interest, refuse and he will be infatuated.

He likes the types he cannot crack, the ones he cannot mold into the shape he aches, the one’s he cannot predict– though for this, he claims it hasn’t been much of an issue when he’s ‘this bad of a read at people’, or so he says.

There are lies within your course of thinking, but a light pink has never dirtied anything.

You know to keep your measure and keep him at an arm's length, maybe not physically but always metaphorically. It’s the things people cannot reach oh-so-easily that draws him in and it’s those that don’t buy his advances that attract him.

You really should’ve just pretended to care back then, you’d have done yourself a favor if your stupid ass wasn't so adamant on honesty. But you cannot blame your younger self, not really. Not when it’s been this long already.

When Yamato picks you up with your feet off the ground, you feel as if a weight has been lifted off your soul.

You knew how the story was going to end yet you stalled either way, allowing yourself so– your train of thoughts come to a halt when you feel Yamato’s lips on your neck, sucking on the flesh in a manner you can only label ‘trying to do gently’. With arms at both sides, holding you firm for support, Yamato takes small breaks inbetween his nibbling to take a deep breath of your skin. You can hear him scoof when his nose tickles more front areas, probably disappointed by the use of perfume for masking your natural scent.

Even such a small thing makes you feel odd– would make you feel hot were it anyone else. You just cannot give Yamato the satisfaction of knowing he is good at it.

At least the scenery of the final scene changes. This is levels better than making out at the restaurant bathroom, on your toes for any potential users, not to mention more hygienic–

Fingers pinch at your skin by your left, and you're back on earth, he must’ve guessed you getting lost in your thoughts again.

What a greedy man, you think, offering to give you his all and still demanding your attention in return.

Yamato presses his entire body weight onto you and waits for the slightest of moan leaving your lips, all ears just to hear you react to him.

And you do, just not in the way he can see or would be happy with. And you would, but you’d rather die than give him the satisfaction of it.

Pushing you further, he secures you with one hand and allows the other to linger on your body. Tracing your legs, dragging his nails and losing himself at your hitched breath.

When you are eye to eye, you can see the absolute bliss in his expression. It is a flattering feeling to know this is all your doing, just by solely existing.

Things have been progressing like this between the two of you for a while now. And as much as you’d love to complain, you cannot deny it benefits you both; Yamato can devote and give all his love and affection to someone open to receiving, and you take it all in like the greedy thing you are, allowing him the courtesy of loving you but not returning it. His love only fuels the fire further, and you burn it all up at a rapid speed.

In the end it all works out. And that's the thing, isn't it ? A beneficial affair for both parties and a nice outlet on the days you feel so worked up over even the smallest thing.

“Stop it” you say and push his face off. e looks at you with surprise.

Oh, Yamato wasn't expecting your patience to burn up this quickly.

Save for the face now hovering few centimeters away, he disturbs not a single thing to his position, enjoying your body against his and your legs dangling at both sides of his waist.

Like this, he almost resembles a child. Blue eyes looking up at you with a childish gIee and glint to them. You're the untouchable cookie jar, far high up in the cabinets. The years old liquor only ever savored on the most sacred of days. 

Yamato looks at you like no human would to anyone else.

Letting out a sigh, you lightly flick his nose off. “You're doing it all wrong. Too sloppy and on the same location.“ because he is awaiting instructions, your input, all the words you're willing to give him. 

 “Such a deep drop in performance doesn't suit you.” you half heartedly joke, and his face lights up in an instant as if you've just made the sun rise.

“Then allow me to atone for my sins.” He whispers to your lips and kisses your lips.

Yamato always kisses you like a man starving and you respond to him barely. 

With slow, deep kisses, he nips at the parts of your lips you've bitten before, tasting your blood on your lips. His hands begin to roam your figure and one finds the nape of your neck, drawing circles into your skin as a way to soothe and pull you closer to him.

When he feels you kissing him back, he doesn't let the moment take him by surprise, cannot afford to stall even for a second and deny you of the pleasure you're deserving.

So close yet so distant, and in the end you're both getting what you needed. There is nothing wise about indulging in him but you've started to reach a point with no care for anything.

The coldness of the night disperses as your bodies begin to warm up, all your aches forgotten in the back of your mind.

Between the shadows and the quiet of the town, Endo Yamato seeks heaven in you once more, and you allow him to give as much as he is willing.

[zweiginator]

boy best friend patrick constantly trying to hit on reader but she is SPP oblivious ab it and will do things that make ppl think they’re a couple but then she’ll be like ‘oh no this is my friend!!! if ur single u should check him out’ and like she’ll let him lead her by the small of her back when they’re out and in private put her legs on his or do his makeup on his lap and STILL doesn’t think it’s weird!!!!

oh he is sooo obsessed with you and you are just adamant about being super close friends with him!! of course you aren't dating; you've known each other since you were seven years old!! he has convinced you that it's normal to hold hands and for him to adjust your necklaces and share drinks and hold onto his arm during a scary movie.

patrick has gaslit himself into believing you're dating; it's easier than talking with you about it. ignorance is bliss for him. but god, it's getting harder. he tries to be more obvious about it. patrick kisses your forehead when you say goodbye to him and he ties your shoes for you and if you're at a party and a guy walks up to you, patrick is quick to grab you a drink and pull you in by the waist.

you're getting into ubers with some friends and sitting in patrick's lap when there is limited space. you give him head massages and peck him on the lips when he falls asleep on your lap, hugging you around the waist. patrick pretends to be asleep, but he always has this teeny, almost indiscernible smile that creeps upon his lips like a secret.

and your friends talk about it behind your backs.

"do they have sex?" one of them asks, after you and he have fallen asleep together on his bed.

another shakes his head. "no. and i'm just as confused about it as you are."

you and patrick get into huge fights when you try to set him up with one of your friends; it drives him crazy. Mostly because you're so fucking naive and oblivious and innocent, and he wants you so bad it makes him ache. he wants to corrupt you, but he doesn't want you to change.

"what's the big deal? i thought you liked her?" you ask. your friend had just texted patrick; you gave her his number.

"what gave you that impression?" he pulls you by your ankles. you are sitting with your legs draped across his lap; his fingers run up and down your shins.

"she is pretty. you like pretty girls, last time i checked." you lean forward, resting your elbows on your knees.

patrick boops your nose with his thumb and smiles at you. "hmm." he says. "you're right. she's just not really my type."

maybe he will tell you next week.