#naked toaster x reader

[miyakuya]

— who fell in love first and who fell harder (part 2)

featuring: twisted wonderland, blooming panic, and mikaela hyakuya

part one | part three

© miyakuya 2023– plagiarism, reposts, or anything related or copying isn’t allowed.

first; while it may not have been love at first sight, they couldn’t help but fall head over heels for you faster than anyone, even themselves, could expect. even if they didn’t admit it, you could tell as soon as it happened

— Nightowl, Trey Clover, Ace Trappola, Ruggie Bucchi, Rook Hunt, Silver Vanrouge

harder; they weren’t necessarily meaning to fall in love, the idea was something that didn’t seem like they really deserved it or that it wasn’t something they could really do anyways. the moment they realized they were in love though, however, it hit them hard and they were definitely not losing you now

— Xyx, Riddle Rosehearts, Leona Kingscholar, Azul Ashengrotto, Jade Leech, Jamil Viper, Vil Schoenheit, Idia Shroud, Sebek Zigvolt, Mikaela Hyakuya

both; they fell in love fast and hard. they didn’t mean for it to happen but they weren’t going to complain. the way they fell in love was like riding in the front seat of a roller coaster going down the first drop. they didn’t want to lose that feeling and they certainly didn’t want to lose you

— Naked Toaster, Quest, Cater Diamond, Deuce Spade, Jack Howl, Floyd Leech, Epel Felmier, Kalim Al-Asim, Malleus Draconia, Lilia Vanrouge

taglist: @astro-pioneer

[whatologys]

naked toaster masterlist

all the fics for toasty :D

blurbs: nothing yet

one-shots: nothing yet

headcanons: names ↳ what would their actual names be?

[choocokookie]

OH SHIT THE BRAZILIAN FANDOM EXISTS!!! ummm how about... what it's like for the bloomic LIs to like someone who is... quite a bit shorter than them (about 1.50m). it can be sweet or nsfw, whichever you feel like!

Haha, yes, we exist! It is quite a small fandom, however, it is delightful to be around. Well, I really liked writing this piece... but I couldn't come with anything NSFW that was interesting to post at the blog. So, I will keep this one 100% SFW. Hope you still liking and thanks for the support <3

cw: gender neutral reader

Nightowl isn’t the tallest man alive, however, whenever he is near you it is impossible to not see his grin growing wider and wider at his lips. What can he do? You are just so adorable near him, he deeply adores to involve your delicate body with his arms and rest his chin over your head.

Teasing you is one of his favorite hobbies… After all, seeing your puffed cheeks and angry expression is too much for his heart, who warms up whenever he is able to rip out from you this kind of behavior. But don’t worry, he will never go too far… he may be a teaser, but he is not a cruel man. He just loves to provoke you, to watch you being slightly mad with him.

However, right after those moments of the man being quite mean, he will compensate you with comfortable cuddles. Owl will bring your body closer to his, so close in a point both heartbeats seem to be linked. As he rests his chin over your head, you know plenty well that it is impossible to escape from his embrace at this point… but it is ok. You know it is just his way to share his love with you, and honestly, you absolutely adore it.

Quest figure is so different from yours on an almost comic level. His tall and strong body is the complete opposite of yours, who is small and delicate… Whenever you two go out in public, it is impossible to not attract the attention from curious people. Saying that those people don't bother the man would be a lie, however, having you by his side can make all this situation way better.

The brunette is so kind with you… just like he is afraid of breaking your figure. As he holds you against his body, you can notice quite well how gentle he is trying to be with you, how much this gigantic man loves you to the point that he is scared of somehow harming you. And oh dear, it is so adorable. Your lips cross all his face, spreading sweet kisses all over it as you openly say how much you love him with all your heart.

Cuddling with him is such a good feeling… you feel so small in his grip, so protected. It is just like nothing could ever touch you again and somehow cause you any kind of harm. He is just like a big and comfortable bear, who is there to give you the affection you just crave so much.

It is almost impossible to not feel small around Toasty. A naturally tall person like them would already make anyone feel just so short, however, you are a very special case… Whenever they need to talk with you, you can notice their figure slowly curving itself until the point they are finally able to properly speak with you.

Kissing him is always a hard task, so, whenever you two want to share this sweet affectionate moment, you need to get on the tip of your toes… and it is just so cute. He never thought much about the height difference of his partners before, however, seeing you trying your best to be able to feel his warm lips against yours is something that can bring quite a cozy feeling to his heart.

Whenever you two are changing innocent touches with each other, laying over the soft bed, you can feel their chin kindly resting over your head - just like Nightowl does. In their embrace, you can realize how skinny your boyfriend is… even tho, you just love to feel so close to them at this point. You feel so small and loved by your lover.

If you taught Nightowl was a teaser, it is because you haven’t heard what Xyx enjoys making with you. At any chance he gets, he grabs an item and places it on a topper shelf, holds it right above you and intentionally avoids your kisses raising just a little bit his head. It is so adorable to see you all mad and embarrassed, doll… one of his favorite pastimes when you are around.

Don’t tho, he is more than ok to after such moments of teasing finally rewarding you with the affection you crave so much. He gently presses his lips over your neck, as he asks for you to forgive this poor man… And being completely honest with you: it is not like you can stay mad with him for such a long time. You love this man and the charm he carries with his personality… he is just so delightful.

When you come back to home, tired from your exhausting work, who seems to steal little by little your soul, you just wanna throw yourself in his hugs - and Xyx doesn’t mind even a bit with it. He firmly holds you, like he is afraid of you running away from your touch… but he isn’t rude or anything like that. The way he hugs you shows love and affection… an affection that makes his heart at least a little bit warmer.

[manikasu-nyx]

post fair headaches | bloomic x reader

just got back from the fair with my s/o and my head is splitting so I thought why not write something while I’m tired?

content/characters: nightowl, quest, xyx, nakedtoaster, gender neutral reader, xyx is a little shit, toasty is tired, some product placement/advertising

nightowl:

just as fucked up as you honestly

both of your heads are pounding but for different reasons

the movement from the rides caught up with you

he’s not used to staying up that long in the daylight

you’re both glad when you collapse into bed when you get home

you both feel sweaty and sticky when you get home but neither of you have the energy to take a shower

so you just reheat your fair food and put on a movie until you pass out in each other’s arms

“Oh my god I am so tired,” you groan, kicking off your shoes in the doorway as nightowl does the same, the both of you then struggling to take your jackets off and not drop your food at the same time.

“You’re tired? I haven’t slept since this morning,” he says, walking past you and stretching, setting his bags of food and plushies down on the counter. Looking at it now, maybe you did go overboard on the games.

“Yes, that’s an uncommon occurrence for you,” you tease, kissing his forehead as you walk to his room, immediately rummaging through your luggage to find something to sleep in. “I smell like sweat and should shower but I’ll do that in the morning.”

“Amen to that, cutie,” he says, going over and pecking your forehead, before going over to his clothes and picking out something for himself to sleep in.

“Wanna reheat our food and play cheesy movies until we pass out?”

“Oh my god. You know me so well. I love you.”

“I love you too, dork.”

quest

his head hurts a little but he’s alright for the most part

spends the rest of the night taking care of you

gets you painkillers and runs you a bath

sits with you in the bathroom with incense flowing though the house

“it’s supposed to help with headaches, I think”

if the smell is too much he immediately puts it out

but for the sake of the fic that goes with this let’s say it’s light

“Okay, I think I have everything. I got something light for you to eat when you get out, and these are some warm towels when you’re ready to dry off,” Quest says, placing the towels down on the edge of the sink, before walking over and sitting down on the edge of the tub next to you, holding his hand out to you.

You place your hand in his own, giving a warm smile as he kisses your knuckles, rubbing them softly. “Quest, you’re too good for me,” you say, your hand sinking back under the bubbles, your head sinking down a bit more into it. The soft scent of peppermint flowed through the house, making you hum softly.

“Hey, Quest?”

“Yes, Angel?”

“You know what this peppermint smell makes me want?”

“…Hot chocolate?”

“You know me so well~” you say, leaning up and giving him a peck on the cheek, him adverting his eyes to the wall until you slipped back under the bubbles. What? He’s respectful.

“Sure thing, angel. I’ll go make us some hot chocolate. And maybe get The Nightmare Before Christmas ready too,” he says, adding a wink to the last part as he left the bathroom.

And that last sentence is when you knew you loved that man.

xyx

oh this man

this mother fucker

is somehow perfectly fine

probably IS the reason for your headache

gets you on shit that flips you upside down and sideways

gets you fucked up off inertia

you’re a mess when you get back home

and he’s still trying to get you to go out

it’s only when cat intervenes do his shenanigans stop

“C’mon, love, you’re okay! The night’s barely started, let’s go and do something else! I hear there’s concert near here starting soon, we can probably sneak in!” He says, walking around the room while you contemplate if the criminal charges of hitting him with a desk lamp are worth it.

“Xyx, I’ve already told you, I’m tired and my head is splitting. Go sneak in yourself, loser,” you reply, deciding to just pull a pillow over your head, trying to ignore the pulsating pain in your brain.

“It won’t be any fun without you there! Besides, I don’t want anyone feeling me up, I’m already taken by the best person on this planet~” he coos, flopping onto the bed and pulling you over, planting kisses wherever he can reach.

Just as you’re about to consider if the punishment for 3rd degree manslaughter is really that bad, Cat comes into the room, meowing softly and jumping up onto the bed, nuzzling their obnoxious owner’s arm.

“Oh, Cat! There you are. Maybe you can help me convince no-fun over here to go out?” He asks, scratching behind the feline’s ears as they meow again, purring softly.

“Oh wait, is your food bowl empty?” He asks quietly, picking Cat up and scurrying off to go check the state of their own little corner.

You have never been happier this man was a cat owner. Maybe pampering them will give you the quiet you need. For a little while, anyway.

When Xyx comes back, he finds you passed out on the bed, hugging the pillow you had been hiding with to your chest. He gives a soft smile, before pulling the blanket over you and going to fetch some water before you woke up.

He wasn’t a complete monster, after all.

nakedtoaster

they’re tired

just absolutely fucked up

he wanted to stay home and play the critically acclaimed mmorpg final fantasy vix that has a free trial and includes the entirety of a realm reborn and

but your puppy dog eyes broke his weak soul

they regret it immediately

the rides were kinda fun after he got done screaming at the first rollercoaster

but they’re so antisocial they don’t go to fairs often so that inertia hits them FAST

you go home and take care of him while he lays in bed regretting all of his life choices

“How you holding up?” You ask quietly, placing the cup of water and some painkillers down on the bedside table, rubbing his head gently as he groans into the pillow.

“Head… splitting. I want to sleep,” he says, the headache breaking his English. You nod sympathetically, moving his head onto your lap, which he complies with easily, looking over at the items on the bedside table.

“Did you at least have a little bit of fun while we were out there?” You ask, hoping this experience wasn’t completely horrible for them. They think for a minute, before turning to look up at you, taking your hand and holding it to their head, seemingly enjoying the pressure.

“Yes, I did. Once you get past the whole there-are-so-many-people-here and post-inertia headache stuff, anyway,” they said, reaching over to the painkillers and popping two in their mouth, swallowing the water after.

“Well, I’m glad. Next time we’ll pace ourselves, okay?” You suggest, holding your pinky out to him, a small smile on your face. He contemplates it, before reaching up and interlocking your pinkies together.

“You’re so good to me. Deal.”

“Only cause you deserve it~” you say, pecking his forehead as his cheeks become slightly dusted pink.

You sit with his head on your lap for a bit longer, him and his headache enjoying the calm, and making plans for less-taxing activities throughout the night.

[covrin-guides]

Misguided: Blooming Panic Smau - Masterlist

Summary:

Y/n isn't really big on social media. They help out their friends here and there whenever they can. When helping their friend, Big Lady, with a video they meet the famous streamer Xyx. It isn't exactly love at first sight.

Parts:

Twitter Profiles

Prologue

Part One: Tales of the Abandoned

Part Two: Enemy Acquired - InProgress

Progress: Just getting started

Current Taglist:

@freaky-deaky-dreams @bumblybeeee

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| Main Masterlist | Rules |

╰┈➤ This post is brought to you by Arin <3

[godlyaffection]

hihi if you’re still accepting prompts can i request [ 9 ] “This is stupid— i’m stupid.” w/ nakedtoaster and male reader?

As soon as you logged into the Blooming Panic server you were bombarded buy messages for Nakedtoaster. Their messages kept flooding in, not leaving you much time to respond to anything they were saying.

Nakedtoaster: hey

Nakedtoaster: you online?

Nakedtoaster: its been such a long day

Nakedtoaster: how are you?

Nakedtoaster: did you want to

Nakedtoaster: call?

Something with Toaster was definitely off. they didn’t normally act like this, and it was already starting to worry you.

U/n: sure

You joined the call channel right after you sent the message, Toaster joining a few seconds after you. Immediately you could tell your suspicions were correct but the way they looked. They had dark circles under their eyes, more than just from them staying up too late, and they looked sad.

“What’s wrong?”

Toaster sputtered, a noise you had gotten use to hearing them make when you caught them off guard. This time it was more strained.

“Nothing, I just wanted to call you.” They said.

Their hand ran through their hair, messing it up more than it already was. It wasn’t often you were able to see Toaster with their hair down, but instead of it being a rare treat, it only made you worry about them more. You just looked at them, in a way only a concerned boyfriend could.

They sighed, “It’s stupid— I’m stupid.”

“If it’s bothering you it’s not stupid.”

They started sniffling, and even through the computer screen you could see tears welling up in the corner of their eyes. You hated that all you could do was watch as they slowly fell apart in front of you.

“I’ve just been thinking a lot,” They paused to wipe away tears that were now falling from their eyes.

“You’re so far away, and what if something happens, what if, somehow, we loose contact again.”

“That won’t happen.” You said, frowning at the thought.

“You don’t know that. There was what happened with BloomBot— just, what if that happens again.”

“It won’t, we don’t have to worry about that.”

You didn’t want them to worry, you knew that no matter what happened you’d find a way to find them again. You weren’t going anywhere anytime soon, and you wanted them to believe that.

“I just… I was so scared when that happened, i don’t want it to happen again.”

Their tears had almost stoped completely, but there was genuine fear in their words. You wished you could hold them now, tell them that you love them and that everything would be alright, but the two of you were stuck so far apart, it was hard.

“It won’t happen, I promise you. No matter what happens, I’ll find you.”

They breathed in a shaky breath, still full of worry but clearly wanting to believe your words. There was a moment of silence, and then Toaster forced a smile, one that showed that they were trying to look on the bright side.

“Okay.”

send me a prompt!

[moonstruckme]

wearing spencers clothes🤯🤯 the boy would not be able to focus!!!! i love all of your work btw!! you're single handedly encouraging me back into my marauders phase❤️

Then my scheme is working ! Thanks for requesting babe :)

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Spencer has to force himself out of bed so you don’t wake up to him staring at you. Also, so he has time away from you to get himself together. 

He’s never felt so much like skipping before. As soon as he’s in the kitchen, full to bursting with the knowledge that you’re asleep one room over, his smile is unshakable. It’s embarrassing, honestly, he’s like a high schooler. You can’t see him like this. He starts going through the kitchen to see what’s not expired. Ketchup, hummus, bread, muffin mix (too risky), mattar paneer (not a very good breakfast), eggs. Spencer can work with eggs. He has to double-check that he has both salt and pepper, but he’s good to go.  

He pops bread in the toaster once he hears you moving around, a giddy flare of anticipation shooting up through his middle. You’ve never stayed over before, and Spencer didn’t have any time to prepare. He only has one hand towel, which you seem fine with sharing and he’s going to pop in the washing machine as soon as you leave, and only one toothbrush. He feels bad that you have to brush your teeth with your finger. If you deem him worthy of a next time, he tells himself, he’ll be ready then. 

He hears the quiet padding of your footsteps but forces himself not to turn around until you say, “Morning.” 

Your voice is still stretched with sleep, and when Spencer turns around he can see it still lingering in your face. Your eyelids are droopy, weighted down, and your hair looks like you’ve tried to run your fingers through it but couldn’t quite get it to behave, and you’re—that’s his sweater vest. You’re wearing his sweater vest. 

He must be staring, because you look down at it, your expression going sheepish. “Sorry, is this okay? I know you’re sort of particular about germs, but I didn’t want to just come out here naked, and I really didn’t feel like putting on my jeans…” 

Spencer shakes his head quickly. “No, it’s fine.” All the stuff you’d done last night, and you think he’s going to be fussy about your germs on his clothes? This is a completely different kind of upset. You’re—you look—well, you look like something Spencer dreamed up. You look like comfort and sweetness and Sunday morning. 

“Okay, thanks.” You smile. Spencer thinks that if he was hooked up to a transducer, you’d actually be able to see the rush of dopamine to his brain. “It’s lucky you’re so tall, this fits me like a dress.” 

A small dress, but sure. “I also have a disproportionately long torso,” he blurts. “My legs aren’t as long as they should be for my height, so my shirts and vests are longer than average.” 

You nod like everything he’s just said made perfect and socially acceptable sense. The toast pops up and Spencer jolts a little, remembering to push the eggs around in the pan a bit. 

A little smile tilts your lips, and you lean back against the counter behind him. “Are you making us breakfast?” 

“Mhm.” 

The smile spreads, your eyes going soft. “That’s so sweet of you,” you say warmly. “Thanks, Spence.” 

“I can’t really cook,” he warns you. “I mean, I can usually do eggs, but only scrambled and even then I might…don’t thank me yet.” 

A little laugh spurts out of you. It reminds Spencer of the fountain in front of his work, of water sparkling in the sun. “Okay,” you say, “do you want any help?”

“It’s probably best if whatever happens is undeniably my fault.”

You laugh again. He wonders what he can do to make that keep happening. 

“Fair enough.” You push off the counter, headed towards the door. “Do you get the paper?” 

For a second, Spencer’s too busy watching you go to remember if he does. “Y—yeah. It should be here by now,” he says. 

He hears the door open, and then, “Perfect.” You come back brandishing the rolled-up paper, discarding the rubber band in his trash bin. “Do you mind if we do your crossword? You seem like you’d be so good at that.” 

Spencer actually stopped doing the crossword years ago—the pop culture references he didn’t get, and the rest were too easy—but he’ll do it if it might impress you. 

“Sure, let’s try.” 

“Okay.” You grab a pen from the coffee table, spreading the paper open on the countertop. “Wyoming’s state sport, five—”

“Rodeo,” Spencer says. It takes him a beat to realize he cut you off. He turns, grimace in place and apology on his lips. “Sorry.” 

But you’re grinning. You shake your head a little bit, pride or admiration or a bit of both, and write it down. You push a piece of hair away from your face. Spencer’s eyes get caught on the wool of his sweater vest where it brushes your collarbone. 

“African river to the Mediterranean, four letters. That’s the Nile, right?” 

The garment seems to shift with every tiny movement. Sliding atop your shoulders, moving about your neckline, the soft material skimming your ribs. Under the counter, it has to be bunched underneath your thighs. 

“Spence?” 

“Hm?” He forces his gaze up. “Yeah, the Nile.” 

“Thanks.” Your eyes linger on him a second too long before you bend back over the paper, a knowing smile playing on the corner of your lips. “Okay, and eagle claw in five letters is talon, right? Oh, um, eggs.” 

Spencer’s brow wrinkles. “How many letters?” 

“No, Spence.” You laugh, sliding out of your seat. You tug his sweater down a bit as you walk over, the band at the bottom hugging your thighs. “The eggs. Your eggs.” 

He turns, registering the smell of smoke before the sight of the crispy, blackened eggs in his pan. “Oh.” 

You reach past him, elbow bumping his as you switch off the heat. Spencer moves the hot pan away from you quickly. He scrapes his sorry eggs into the trash bin, setting the pan in the sink. “Sorry, I got distracted by the crossword,” he tells you, and though he suspects you catch the lie you’re kind enough not to call him out on it. 

“It’s fine.” You shoot him another of those brilliant, beaming smiles, taking a piece of cold toast from the toaster. “I love toast. Do you have any butter or jam or anything?” 

Spencer winces. “Not really…” 

You laugh, giving his arm a reassuring pat. “No worries. I’m down for a trip to the store if you are.” He nods sheepishly, and you press your lips together, thoughtful. “I think I might change first, though.” 

[seattlesellie]

not about love: part three ♡

ೃ⁀➷ read part one | part two | part four

pairing: college loser!ellie williams x fem!reader

synopsis: you go to a frat party, ellie is a dumbass.

warnings: heavy sexual themes, alcohol, weed, JEALOUSY (both ellie and reader but reader goes through it)

You stirred from your nap, your eyelids fluttering open as you gradually became aware of your surroundings. It was hot, too hot, and the AC wasn’t working. Neither was the fan. So much for one of the “Best colleges in the world!” as they liked to boast on their little website page. A faint buzz emanated from your phone.

You groaned. Dina's persistence was relentless, and she refused to accept no for an answer. The thought of going to a Kappa party was one thing. Sweaty bodies, lame college boys who thought they were hot shit because their daddy was the CEO of toaster strudel or whatever, cheap liquor that burned inside the pits of your stomach even three days after the party was over…

That was the least of your problems.

The problem was, you guessed it — Ellie.

Wherever Jesse and Dina went, Ellie was always there, tagging along like a lost little puppy. They never turned her away; they actually seemed to enjoy her company. And who could blame them? Ellie had a wicked sense of humor, and some might even say she had a sweet side. Plus, she always had a fat joint tucked away in her pocket, ready to be shared. The thing was, Dina and Jesse were a fucking couple, and Ellie somehow managed to squeeze herself into their most intimate moments too.

You asked Dina about it once, and she just shrugged — “She’s a little lonely sometimes, so why not?”

Dina was right. Ellie was… a little lonely. When she wasn’t with you, shed lock herself inside her dorm room (which she thankfully shared with no one), solemnly strung on her guitar, broody and quiet. She’d blast metal when she was upset, and draw till her arm hurt. It was “by choice” she always told, shrugging off your attempts to convince her to socialize, enjoy the college life, have some fun. She wanted to tell you that you were enough. That she didn’t need those random hookups, that parties were the last thing that interested her, when you were around. Her cheeks would blush a soft, dusty pink whenever she entertained the thought of confessing her feelings to you. The uncertainty of your response weighed on her mind like a pesky little irritant. What would you think then?

None of it mattered, anyways, because you and Ellie hadn’t talked in a week. That was the longest time without contact since 10th grade. Granted, you did fight that Christmas night, just a year ago — but you never went completely cold. Not like this. Ever since that day in her room, something shifted. You saw her in the cafeteria, Sitting alone with white string earphones in her ears, she bopped her head to the rhythmic tunes of Bob Dylan. Pretending not to see you, she shifted her gaze towards the window, fixating on the birds' nest nestled within the tree nearby.

She thought you knew.

She thought her secret was out.

“You’re not” Was the last thing that left her mouth that day.

Ellie was delusional, Because you didn’t fucking know.

“I cant see her EVER again” she scribbled in her journal with dark ink, pressing down on the pen until her thumb turned white.

When NASA released the stunning images of millions of galaxies, your thoughts inevitably gravitated towards her. She was a constant presence in your mind, after all. You sent her a message, a sweet one. “thought of u” it said, with a picture attached.

It was radio silence. No response, no call, nothing. Cold.

This is why you didn’t want to go to the party today. And maybe, this is why you did go — regardless. Stand up to her, ask her what was wrong. Did you do something? did you hurt her feelings? did you finally fucking break her?

It was 9PM, and there you stood, butt naked, facing your closet.

“fuck you Dina” you whispered sotto voce, as the weight of blame rested squarely on her shoulders. She’s the reason you’re here, your mind completely blank, staring at a pile of unfolded clothes, Your makeup sprawled open on the table, the powders and the colors creating an accidental artwork. You had a half empty bottle of boxed wine in your hand. Definitely Dina’s fault.

“Nothing!" you exclaimed, flinging a delicate light pink tank-top onto the floor in frustration. “To fucking wear!” you groaned, tossing a black pair of jeans of across the room. It was your turn to throw a tantrum now.

You dialed Dina on the phone, more than ready to complain to her over your lack of clothes, her stupid kappa party, maybe even over the pumping headache you had three days ago, maybe that was her fault too.

She picked up.

“Heyyyy pretty” Her words slurred, and the scent of vodka almost wafted through the screen. Oh god, she was drunk already. Just great.

“You pregamed without me?!” You yelled, perplexed.

“Wh— I called you like five times! So did Jesse, you didnt pick up the phoneeee”

“Pick up the phoneeeee” you heard Jesse mock Dina, his laughter echoing in the background.

“Fine, whatever. I have nothing to wear, I’m gonna look like shit, my ass hurts because I slipped AND I think this white wine’s poisoned. Plus I need something that makes my tits look good and all i have—“

You grabbed a crumpled white corset top from the floor, its fabric wrinkled from being discarded.

“Is a stupid corset! and you still didn’t give me back my dress!” You whined, pacing around the room, still naked, still chugging on some “poisonous” white wine.

“You’re on speaker, babe”

“I dont care. Hey Jesse, you sound wasted too” You tried on the white corset, surprised at how good it fit around your body. Huh. Maybe you didn’t need to iron clothes like, ever.

“Heyyyy” his voice came through muffled, mixed with fits of laughter as Dina had apparently spilled vodka on herself.

“D, I’m sending you a picture of my fit, I have no pants on so don’t save it, weirdo”

She coughed.

“On speaker” she repeated.

“Jesse doesn’t care” You rolled your eyes, as you struggled to zip the corset top up.

“Ellie’s here”

Oh.

“Oh” you froze. Of course she’s here.

“Say” Dina's voice descended to a hushed tone, as if her words were no longer intended for your ears.

“Say hi” it was quiet, but you could hear.

"I don't—" Ellie's voice emerged, subdued and suppressed, barely audible.

Dina shoved the phone to Ellie’s hand.

“Hey”

You gazed at your complexion, transfixed as if you were trapped in a moment suspended in time.

“Hi” you quietly said.

“Okay— whatever you two have going on… figure it out, be there in twenty. And send me that pic!”

Dina hung up.

Be there in twenty. Okay, you got this. You looked at yourself in the mirror, half naked, your hair a mess, your heart beating out of your chest. Maybe you don’t got this.

Frantically, you swiftly gathered yourself. You hastily slid into a sleek black skirt, styled your hair, generously applied a thick layer of lip gloss, and quickly slipped into the tallest heels you could lay your hands on.

“Skirts too long” you whispered to yourself.

It wasn’t too long, the plush of your ass was almost peaking out of it.

It was borderline comedic, how you fast you shifted when you heard her voice. How quickly you went from not giving a shit, whining quietly about the sweaty bodies you’re going to bump into, and the thick smell of cigarette smoke and cheap alcohol you were going to have to breathe through, to caring so heavily, and so deeply, about something completely different. You put the shiniest pair of hoop earrings you could find in your drawer, spritzed a thick layer of sweet, vanilla and almonds perfume, and took another glance in the mirror.

This is how she was going to see you. She’ll smell your perfume, you were sure of it. Perhaps she’d even glance at your legs if she got close. you see, Ellie had a habit of… looking up and down. She thought she was sleek, she thought she knew what she was doing. She thought she was hiding it, and hiding it well, but she never did. You always noticed how her eyes would flicker up and down, how a rosy pink would grace her cheeks.

This isn’t about Ellie, though — right?

There was a loud thud that echoed across the room, originating from the big window above your bed.

Dina and Jesse were here. Oh, and her.

“fuckfuckfuck” you frantically whispered to yourself as you went to grab your purse. You glanced at your reflection again. You looked good, and you knew it. Hell — everyone would know it, but not everyone mattered.

You took a deep breath, and with that, you were out of your room.

Click-clack—the sound of your high heels grazing the ground filled the air.

“oh sh—“

you almost slipped.

Right as you exited the building, your eyes landed on them.

Three, slightly inhibited, babbling adults standing besides each other.

You moved closer, the sparkling keychain attached to your purse swaying and jingling with every contact against your figure, a touch of girlish charm to your stride.

“Holy shitttt” Dina gasped, her eyes widening in awe.

You didn’t even glace at Ellie. Non existent.

“Jesse” she nudged his arm. “I’m leaving you for a girl”

She wrapped you in a tight embrace, her sweet but subtly spicy perfume filling your nostrils. The moment your eyes met hers, any lingering anger you had towards her completely melted away. The Dina effect.

“You look so hot” she teased, flashing you a sly smile.

“Hey idiot” Jesse chimed in, embracing you tightly, looking dapper with a tight, black t-shirt adorning his body.

“Look at those muscles” you said, punching his arm lightly.

And there she was.

a black leather jacket, a white button-up shirt with the top buttons left undone, a tight pair of jeans and her trusty old Chuck’s.

She dressed up. She never dresses up.

Her eyes were glued to the ground. What was she hyper-focusing on now? The ant crawling on the ground? a dry, crumpled leaf? Perhaps on your high heels, and the thought of you keeping them on while your legs are resting on her shoulders?

Her throat closed up at the thought.

“Hey” she said, her voice low.

You could tell she had been drinking, based on the dazed look she had on her face. Maybe she smoked some too.

“Hi” you said, and flashed her a small, awkward smile.

“Start walking idiots” Dina exclaimed, and grabbed your hand in her palm.

The walk to the party was not quiet. It was anything but. Filled with aimless giggles, and Jesse almost walking in to a pole. Ellie dragged by quietly, chuckling to herself at a funny anecdote someone had made. She never was quite like this. Of course, she was broody, some would say somber, but she was not a “quiet” person. Not when she was with her friends. Tonight was different. Tonight, Ellie had something else in mind. The way you swayed side to side, giggling loudly and boasting into a Britney melody made her heart swell in her chest. She couldn’t stop replaying the events of that day in her mind. The way she got close, the way you whispered that you weren’t like Dina and Jesse, and the way she agreed. The way she had never come so hard in her life, with her hand between her thighs and her phone in her hand.

Tonight was going to be fucking difficult.

You finally arrived to the party.

As anticipated, the scene unfolded before you— a pulsating mass of sweaty bodies, shirtless college guys, and scantily clad girls grinding against each other, moving rhythmically to the beats of a 2013 Jason Derulo song.

“Shots?” Dina questioned, her eyes scanning the crowded house.

“Shots” you responded, a slight panicked look on your face.

“Sure, yeah” Ellie quietly said, her hands stuffed inside her pockets.

Dina was out of your sight at the speed of light.

You were left alone with her.

It was suddenly harder to breathe, and it wasn’t the lack of oxygen from the dozens of people breathing it in.

“So…” you said, trying to be as loud as you could — so she could hear you, amidst the loud music and the occasional screams.

She was standing in front of you. God, was she beautiful. She didn’t even try, was the frustrating part. The way her hair rested half down, the rest of it tied in a bun, the way a small strand of hair framed her face — she was flawless. Her freckled cheeks were glowing, a red hue caressing them, and as her hand came to scratch her face, presumably a nervous reaction, it flexed slightly. You always stared. Just like she stared at your tits — you always stared at her hands. It was a silent agreement, tit for tat.

“So many people” you chuckled.

“Listen, I-“

“Tequila for you” Dina’s voice startled you from behind, making you flinch.

“And… a shot of whiskey for the lady” She handed Ellie the short glass.

“3, 2–“

It was warm inside your throat, and it slid so uncomfortably, you had have a reaction. Your face twitched, tongue peeking out of your mouth.

Ellie couldn't help but crack a smile, stifling the urge to burst into laughter.

Ellie never made a face when she drank. Swallow it in, Joel taught her. Hold your breath — and let it slide.

“EVERYBODY!”

the loud voice of a college frat-boy echoed through the room. Did he have a fucking microphone?

“SPIN THE BOTTLE IN KEVIN’S ROOM TO THE LEFT!”

You rolled your eyes.

“What are we, thirteen?” you sighed.

“No…” Dina responded, her gaze shifting between you and Ellie.

“But you need to get some” she nudged your arm.

“And so do you” She whispered to Ellie.

Ellie could feel her heart beat fasten up. Funnily enough, it wasn’t because she was embarrassed to play. It wasn’t because she cared about it, or wanted to “get some” — It was the thought of you. The thought of you, getting some. How could Dina even dare to suggest such a thing? Of course, Dina didn’t know about Ellie’s… situation. Still, how could she say that? How could she endure the thought of you with somebody else? What if you end up meeting somebody? What if you, god forbid, end up kissing somebody? Ellie felt it in her stomach. It was that same rage she felt when you had your first girlfriend, Emily, in 10th grade. When she caught you kissing behind the bleachers. She remembers how her mind went blank for a second, fully white. A moment after, she saw red. She punched a fucking wall, and promised herself that if she ever gets the chance — the actual chance, she’d beat Emily up so bad it would leave her bleeding. Of course, she never got the fucking chance. Emily was nice to Ellie, hell, Emily loved Ellie, and Ellie never had the guts to do it, so she punched her pillow instead, every goddamn night.

“Let’s go, c’mon” Dina exclaimed, taking hold of both your hands and skillfully maneuvering through the bustling crowd.

—

At first, the bottle landed on a sweet cheerleader named Amy, and a dumb jock named Steve.

“I dare you to make out shirtless in front of everybody” Kyle, a blond frat guy said, gaining himself a couple of “Oooo” sounds from the people gathered around the room.

“It’s not truth or dare Kyle—“ A loud voice popped off from the background.

“My house, my rules” He shrugged as he responded.

“I should be paid to watch this” You said in a whiny, slightly bitchy tone, Ellie and Dina chuckled in response.

They went at it, shirtless and sloppy. Tongues clashing in an unsynchronized dance, slurping each other up like animals.

“Okay, okay — next round” Kyle exclaimed, burping into the mic.

“Ew” you gagged.

The bottle spun.

You were standing besides Ellie, her shoe nudging yours. At one point, she accidentally touched your thigh, followed by a breathy “Shit — sorry”.

There was absolutely no way it would spin pointing at her, and then point at you. But she fucking hoped. Maybe, if it was a dare, shed have the balls to do it. Maybe she’d be too embarrassed to say no in front of all these people, who might think she was even a bigger weirdo for turning a game down, so she’d have to kiss you. Maybe her lips could touch yours like she desperately desired. Maybe shed manage to put her hands on your waist, and hold you still. Maybe you’ll feel it, finally, and give into her.

Slip a tongue in, who knows?

It landed on her.

“Fuck” she hissed under her breath.

“Oh” Kyle said into the mic.

“Who are you?”

“Ellie” she said quietly, internally punching herself in the gut.

“Cant hear”

She cleared her throat, feeling her face heat up.

“Ellie” she said, louder.

You felt your throat close up. This can’t possibly be happening. Dina was ecstatic.

“Okay… Ellie, never seen you around here… Spin”

“I don’t—“ she quietly said, looking at you from the corner of her eye.

Something was wrong. Your body tensed up.

“Cmon, El” Dina nudged her arm.

She spun the bottle, the sound of the glass grazing the floor filling up the room.

It landed on a ginger named Alison. You recognized her from one of your classes. Alison was a nice girl, popular, but kept to herself. She was pretty, a sweet pair of big brown eyes, and a cleavage that left no room for the imagination. Alison smirked at Ellie, tilting her head.

You weren’t exactly a firm believer, but you prayed to god louder than anyone has ever did.

Please don’t kiss. Please don’t kiss.

“Ellie… Alison… Who else thinks those names go fucking along?” Kyle exclaimed into the mic.

The crowd whood, the crowd of people cheering this… Obscenity — as you’d call it.

Ellie shifted uncomfortably, digging her short fingernails into her palms.

You lifted your chin up. Shit.

“Ellie and Alison,” Kyle whispered dramatically.

“Kiss.”

Dina squeezed your hand.

“Ellies gonna get some…” She melodically hummed in your ear.

Your face twitched.

“Alison — take your shirt off. Ellie, gotta give us a show”

Ellie went bright red. She didn’t want to do this. She didn’t want to fucking do this. It buzzed in her ears, echoing inside her brain.

It was almost as if a comically bright light bulb appeared on top of her head.

What if this was payback.

She could never have you, couldn’t she?

What if this one hurt.

What if you realized.

Ellie didn’t dare to look at you, but she felt it. She felt you shift, she felt the harsh breath that escaped your mouth.

Alison crawled closer. So did Ellie. Her shoe grazed your knee as she moved.

You swallowed deeply.

Alison’s eyes twinkled amidst the dim lights.

Ellie felt her toes curl inside her Chuck’s. Her breathing got heavier, and her heartbeat fastened up. It wasn’t because of Alison, or Andrea, whatever her name was. It was beating because you were watching.

Alison initiated it. It was a small peck, at first.

Your hand was trembling.

“Go Ellie!” Dina cheered.

Ellie took it as a green light.

She parted her lips slowly, and sucked Alison in for a kiss. A hungry one, slow and steady, a wet tongue slipping in, gently swirling inside the shirtless ginger’s mouth. When Alison whimpered silently, Ellie brought her hand up to squeeze her breast. The crowd was cheering her on.

You felt like a monster took over your body. Your throat closed up, eyes growing moist. Oh shit. You were about to fucking cry.

Ellie grabbed Alison’s neck, and held her firmly.

It felt like it was going on for hours.

And then it stopped. Alison was panting, and Ellie was too.

There it was. The first tear that crawled down your right cheek.

“I’m going to the bathroom” you whispered to Dina.

Ellie looked across her shoulder.

You weren’t there anymore.

“Where’d she go?” She wiped her wet mouth on a black leather covered shoulder.

“Bathroom” Dina said, absentmindedly with a smile.

“Fuck”

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

♡ part four ♡

[trashmouth-richie]

Eddie x Fem! Reader

master list

w/c: 7k

A/N: this chapter is a little bit shorter than the last few but I hope you enjoy it regardless! huge s/o to @blueywrites + @jo-harrington for beta reading and helping me with parts ♥️

tw: 18+ no minors, depression, acts of depression, drinking excessively etc

Granules of brown sugar melt against heaping creamed rolled oats, nestled into the crisp white second hand vitrelle made Corelle brand bowls. The pattern of dainty brown flowers skim around the outer surface, one that Eddie is now rubbing softly with the pad of his thumb. 

He had never noticed them before this very moment. The guitar string callouses skid along the cool surface of the bowl. The familiar feel reminded him of the soft skin on your back as he held you while you slept, strumming along your body to the tired tunes of your breathing.

A song he’d listen to forever if he could. 

Eddie found himself noticing many new things he hadn't noticed before in the early daylight hours of the morning. He didn’t want to stir you, didn’t want to disrupt the beautiful sleepy angel next to him. Wrapping you tighter against him, pressing light kisses to your hairline, he soaked up the warmth of your skin against him. Drinking in your smooth breathing and matching it to his own. 

Fluttering heart beating wildly in his own chest, he can’t believe you are here with him. Last night felt too good to be true. All these months of lonely pining, unsure if you felt the same, only for it to be true that you wanted him as much as he had wanted you.

He was elated, heart overflowing and spewing candy hearts from his eyes and mouth at the weight of your body tucked into him, fitting like a glove against the bend in his arm. 

He was head over heels for you. 

A wave of assurance washed over him when he woke this morning and found you curled in on yourself, the cotton sheets wrapped tight up under your chin, slack lips open and your eyelashes laid sweetly against your cheeks. A breath of relief leaves his muscles— you’re still here. 

The rise and fall of your naked form when he pulled ypu into his side had him breathless upon first opening his eyes this morning. The sunlight basking through peaks in his bedroom curtains and providing enough light for the dust mites to dance their daylight waltz amongst the stuffy air and crowded surfaces in Eddie’s room. 

Cotton sheets dipped into your curves. The smooth skin of your cheek pressed into his own chest. The steady whirring noise of your breathing in and out of your nose with your lips closed delicately.  

Beautiful. Radiant. A thousand other adjectives he could use to describe you but there was only one he wanted to call you: his. 

The toaster erupts with a metallic clunk, bringing him back from his day dreaming and focusing again at the task at hand. 

Grabbing a knife from the silverware drawer, he smears cold butter against the warm toast, the knife scraping gently as the warm crusted pockets flood with butter and sweet grape jelly.

He finds himself daydreaming again. He pictures the corner of your lips coated in jelly, he’d reach forward and brush his finger against it, maybe his lips would kiss the crumbs away. You’d giggle at his stupidity and he’d melt like the butter into this toast at your warm smile. 

You were perfect. Everything he had wanted and more. And years of being friends, then enemies, then roommates and now lovers. He was giddy, stomach filled with snowflake flurries resembling a winter storm. 

He balanced the bowls of oatmeal in large hands, the toast cut in diagonals and stuffed like rabbit ears into the cooked oats. A pep in his step, he practically floated to his room, back to you, snug in his sheets, his pillows. He’s carried by the wings of the butterflies in his stomach. 

A tickle on your cheek has your eyelids fluttering slow, the cool feel of unfamiliar sheets twisted by your chin have you jumping in your skin, but the warm velvet voice in your ear whispering good morning greetings and a peck against your ear tames your heart and softens the goosebumps on your skin. 

The same calloused palms that held you in a protective manner last night now gently stroke the underside of your chin in a lazy pattern. Up the rounds of your cheeks, and circling the plump of your lips. Eddie’s hands are unusually warm against your skin, the heat from the bowls hot on his palms.

The mattress bends beneath his weight as he sits with one leg on the bed and leans on a hip over you. The bourbon colored ends of his curls sweep feather-like against your bare chest, like the white tufty pappus of a dandelion head.

You titter softly when his lips slide down your neck and blow a softened raspberry against your skin. 

“Good morning, baby,” he sighs beneath your ear. The pearls of his teeth graze your neck because he can’t stop smiling. The silk of your hands wrap around his arms, fingers gliding over the carve of his muscles. And your eyes finally flutter open. 

A halo of sunlight breaches his frizzy curls and pull every bit of amber from them, his smile cozy and familiar the warmth seeping through you as his blackened honey eyes drink you in.  

His eyes trail your sleepy features, caressing your skin with each slow drag across your face. Taking in every inch of you he can. 

“Sleep okay?” he purrs gently, planting a rose petal kiss on your lips. 

Last night was perfect, everything you had hoped for and more. 

You didn’t know sex could be so intimate, so passionate.  Feeling how much he cared about you with every kiss, every touch of his molten fingers on your skin. He gave you the love and adoration you had yearned for. And it felt good. 

So, so good. 

Something that delicious should be enjoyed again and again. An indulgence, a finger swiping into the edge of a frosted cake for temptation deemed too strong. But unlike the taste of frosting melting away on your tongue, craving more and wanting another taste, you couldn’t. 

Peering into his eyes, you can see how much he loved you. But the feeling sat sour on your tongue, and burned your belly in a lonely way.

But why? 

You could push through this right?

Didn’t you want this?

Want him?

Heart hammering for Eddie, all green flags and sticky love, kicking feet and giddy heated cheeks, but your brain was screaming another sound, ringing bells of unworthiness loud in your ears. 

You don’t deserve him. 

His love won’t last. 

A quick smile that doesn’t reach your eyes implants on your lips. Insecurity is evident among them when the twinkle of love is replaced by dark brooding agony. And if Eddie sees it he is blinded to it. So wrapped up in bubbly love for you he thought you hung the stars. 

The way his brown eyes are gazing at you hurts your heart. Before hot tears can fall down your cheeks you blink rapidly. Wells of salt stinging in your eyes as you swallow them down. 

Answering his question in a hushed almost whisper, you push yourself up on his mattress, clutching the sheet around your chest, suddenly aware of how naked you are. Bare beneath the sheets a once welcomed coziness now feels like shards of glass embedded into your skin. 

Your knees tuck up beneath your chest, in a small attempt to shield yourself more from the man you wanted to love but couldn’t. 

Eddie is all adoring dimples and pinked cheeks. His voice is laced with flowing sweet words of pleasantries. He places a pillow behind your back, so you can be comfy,. 

The act cracking your heart deeper waiting to be split like the thin shell on a peanut m&m. 

“I didn’t ask, but do you like oatmeal?” 

You’ve never known a single smile burrowing into your soul deeper than his does. But it aches and burns. Nose tingling bringing up another wave of tears, you simply nod, you wipe your eyes hastily with the back of your hand as Eddie turns and grabs the bowls. Oblivious to your turmoil. 

He brings the warm bowl of oatmeal to the bed and places it in your hands. Jelly having slid down the toast and snuggling with the brown sugar and oatmeal. Joining you on the bed Eddie sits beside you, his long legs stretched out in front of him as you sit shoulder to shoulder.   

You don’t deserve him. 

His love won’t last. 

Lead filled arms hold the metal spoon to your lips, a warmth in your mouth that has no taste. For you are not hungry. The beast inside spreading its ferocious wings and sucking any amount of joy from you. 

But he said he loved me. 

He doesn’t. Don’t fool yourself. 

Staring ahead you are trapped in your mind. A hostage to your demons. The sunshine of happiness is replaced with heavy thunderstorm clouds of acidic rain, eating away your insides like maggots on a carcass. 

Eddie is talking between mouthfuls of his breakfast but you don’t hear him. The words unable to make sense against your ears as you stir your spoon around and around the bowl. A hypnotizing motion. 

Unaware of the state you are in, Eddie is floating high on cloud nine. A pinky cheeked cherub shooting arrows of lust below him. He’s giddy and cheerful, a light of beckoning hope next to your brooding steel trapped mind. 

He’s too good for you. 

The voices shout louder in your ears and you fight tears away. 

Just another notch on his belt, silly Tooty. 

Run, before he does. 

“Sweetheart?” your breathing is erratic and complacent. Sweat is trickling down your hairline. Wet beads in the space behind your ears and forming on your upper lip.

Run. 

Choking down the bile of panic cradled in your throat, you croak a smile. “Sorry, what?” 

-

The rest of breakfast is void of noise besides the ominous clinking of spoons against bowls and the gulping slide of oatmeal down Eddie’s throat. Chewing your toast to humor him you still taste nothing, barely registering your teeth are grinding together against themselves until Eddie asks if you’re alright. 

Fine, you lie, easy on your tongue, the forced smile is harder, painful. Settling an unease in your bones that creaks and groans like a worn porch door batting against the frame in a windstorm. 

Pulling hard to untuck the sheet from the one corner of Eddie’s bed that didn’t manage to come undone during the passion of last night, you wrap it around you fully, and scoot down the length of his mattress. The walk of shame gown held tight in your grip. Doubling as a shield of comfort around you, a flannel sheet of armor. 

Not announcing where you are going in fear of breaking, you scamper from the room, quick feet on the carpet and shivering in the cool air on your shoulders. Eddie’s hot desperate eyes burrowing into your back as you lock the bathroom door. 

He’s everywhere in this house, and your mind is suffocating. Lungs punched of any oxygen as you struggle to stand using the knob as a crutch. 

What makes you think you’re deserving of his kindness?

The daunting demonic voice laughs mercilessly in your head, bouncing off the pinked brain matter and echoing lol against the hollow marble of your skull, scribbling along it in permanent marker. 

Unworthy 

Undeserving

Hot tears stream down your cheeks and you shed the cloak of flannel armor, reaching for the silver knob of the shower and turning it to the hottest temperature the small water heater will allow. 

The stream of the scalding water sears your back like steak in a skillet, you welcome the burn with open arms. 

Thinking of Eddie’s doting and how sweet he was to you made your stomach splinter. All he was doing was exactly what you had hoped for, wished for, stayed up long nights aching for. 

But it wasn’t simple. 

You were terrified. Scared shitless of his love for you. But you knew Eddie and you knew he loved big, and cared in ways that most people couldn't fathom. 

Hot water rolls down the front of your shoulders and flows over your softened nipples, mixed with salty tears. 

The tears only stop when there’s a soft knuckled bang on the door. 

His endearing voice is small against the closed door, “hey babe?” 

You don’t answer. Unable to free your mind from the double hell of feeling inadequate and petrifying anxiety of being loved by someone you can’t love back. 

But you do love him. 

You always have in one way or another.. even when you shouldn’t have. You did. 

But the overwhelming feeling of his affection is too much, you don’t know how to feel, or act. Not as if Chad ever made you feel loved. Somehow the feeling of being loved is almost the same crushing feeling of being choked out. 

Because you’re not good enough. 

You don’t deserve him. 

The bathroom door opens and Eddie’s calm voice breaks through the void. Makes its way through the silent sobs that are causing your body to shake violently. 

His shadow is blurred against the shower curtain. Coy hands peel the cream plastic and blue fabric away slightly, opening the threshold to the shower and the steam rolling out, thick in his vision. 

“Tooty?” 

Back to first names. 

Back to the basics. 

Eddie wasn’t an idiot. He knew something was wrong. And he had spent the last ten minutes walking back and forth along the carpet, wracking his brain. Pulling his hair in frustration when tears stung his eyes and collected like puddles in his lashes.  

Trying to figure out the solution to a problem he didn’t have the equation for. 

No one did. 

This was a fight within yourself, solving for x when Eddie barely passed basic algebra. Nobody could fix this.

Broken goods, sold at a discount and marked down. 

Trash. 

When you don’t answer he says your name a smidge louder. Reaching his fingers out to touch your shoulder and almost breaking on the spot when you coil away from him. 

His touch once so protective and undeniably reassuring in your blood now threatens to make you react with bared teeth and steel eyes. 

But you refrain, pushing yourself further away from him. Deeper into your sorrows of a life of despair, a valley of dread. 

Relentless, Eddie won’t give up easy. His voice is meek and breaking with each cold shoulder of avoidance you offer. 

You’re nothing. 

“Baby,” he pleads, a tear running down his cheek, collecting in the column of his throat. “Talk to me.” 

His cheeks return to normal color, his eyes don’t dance with twinkles, the corners of his mouth turn flat. He's beside himself. 

The voices deepens now, roaring loudly like a river. A familiar tone. One that has terrified you for almost a decade, Chad. 

You think someone could love you like me? Better than me? 

Take it, fucking whore. 

Yeah, cry for me. 

“No.” 

Eddie’s brows turn inward. Concern painting his face. “Tooty?” 

Who would want you? 

You’re nothing. 

A hand on your shoulder makes your spine twinge with icy cold resentment causing you to flinch unexpectedly, shivering away from him. A wounded animal, protecting yourself. 

“I said, no!” 

When you turn to face him you are met with wet eyes, and the saddest expression you’d ever had the displeasure of seeing. 

One that would bury itself in your mind and haunt you at night. More horrifying than a scary movie because it was real, right before your eyes. 

Eddie doesn’t give you time to think before he twists his mouth into a question, “what’s going on? What did I do?” 

This is not a conversation you want to have. You can’t. 

Plain and simple. 

“Leave me alone,” you beg, salt in the skinned wound. You turn the water off and shove past him, your warm wet skin sliding against his dry bare chest. 

Unlovable 

Undeserving Tooty. 

The terry fibers of your robe cocoon you in a hug. And you’re reminded of the memories this fabric holds. The first night Eddie had moved in, and him wearing it with pride. 

The night he defended you against the twins, when you were piss drink and he wrapped you up tightly to cover you up. 

He was a good man. 

And you were a bitch. 

An unlovable shrewd, forcing someone to open up and then cutting them off because you couldn’t handle the thought of someone loving you when you couldn’t love yourself. 

You deserved what Chad did to you. 

Eddie is talking a million miles an hour trying to explain himself as you leave him in the bathroom. His throat aches from swallowing back tears and his heart is breaking. 

Turning in a swift jerk of your head you face him when he begs you to look at him. 

“Please, goddamnit please just talk to me. Help me understand what I did wrong!” 

“There’s nothing to understand Eddie! We fucked! So what? No big deal.” It was the biggest lie you’d told yourself. It was a big deal. It meant everything to you, but you couldn’t do this. 

He’s stunned, mouth hung open and his pink bottom lip starts to quiver. The same lips that kissed you so delicately and made you cum so hard it was like the Fourth of July behind your eyelids. 

Not having any of it, his sadness turns to anger on the drop of a dime, his shaky lip flipped to a snarl, “Don’t you dare do this, don’t you dare turn this around as just some one night stand bullshit.” His eyes search your face for any tell on a sick joke. But he knows you better than that.  

He can’t contain the fueling rage inside of him and he almost shouts in your face. “I know what it meant to you!”

“Really?” you voice in a shaky tone, crossing your arms across your chest in a manner that suggests you couldn’t give a single fuck about his feelings, but barely below the surface you were screaming for help. “If you got all the answers then enlighten me.” 

His voice is softer, gentler. He timidly reaches out to hold your clothed shoulders, the tips of his fingertips grip them softly, thumbs rubbing small circles. Hoping his touch could bring you back to him, bring back the angel from his dreams and coax you out from this hellish nightmare he had fallen into. 

 “Don’t act like this baby, please.” 

Your head hangs in defeat and you’re ready to give up. A sigh escapes you and he lifts your chin with a ringed finger. He licks his lips and he says the three words you couldn’t hear. 

The three small words that confirmed the anxiety in your chest and made your heart crumble. And it kills you. 

It kills you to hear the words come from the man you’ve been yearning for.

It kills you to know you won’t ever be able to say them back to him. Even though you’re dying to.

And it kills you to know you don’t deserve to hear those words from him. 

His fingers feel like talons against your shoulders and you're caught in his grasp. A hawk swooping to catch a field mouse. You can practically feel the blood pouring from your skin by his nails through the robe. The sharpness squeezing your lungs and attacking your mind. 

And like a bullet from a gun, you fire back. With hateful words and a dead tone, fire lit behind your pupils and your caged self inside of them begging to be let out. Begging to be let free and loved by Eddie. Slapping his hands away from you, you pull away from him, your back hitting the wall with a thud, the same wall you leaned on last night when he kissed you for the first time. 

The word is final. And so full of venom it feels like poison on your lips. 

“Don’t.” 

Wounded like an animal he defends himself. His slapped hands are red and stinging as he hangs them limply at his side. He shakes his head and his lips glow with how hard he’s pressing them together. 

“Tell me I don’t mean anything to you,” he yells, hurt and unable to contain his building desperate pleas to win you back, “Go ahead! Use your words Tooty. Tell me last night meant nothing to you.”  

He’s a fiend for your poisoned drug and you are his dealer, giving him what he wants, directly to his vein of choice. The veil of hatred falling in your vision and coating your stone still features. A single tear welled into your eyes. Falling the exact time you tell him words you knew weren’t at all true. 

“It meant nothing to me.” 

He chuckles in a hurt tone trying desperately to hide his own tears, a sick smirk of dismay is displayed on his quivering lips. And he’s fighting like hell to stay standing on two feet. 

“So now what? Huh?” His voice breaks and he clears his throat, hands on his hips and looking towards the popcorn ceiling, desperately blinking tears back, and once they’re hiding again he nods his head forward, one last attempt to have you break with him. To admit you were lying to yourself. 

Crossing his arms he’s trying not to shake with fury and grief. Through gritted teeth he misters up enough courage to ask you something he doesn’t wanna hear the answer to.

“Tell me what you want since you’re so big and brave. Don’t be a coward now sweetheart, tell me what you want.” 

You almost vomit on the spot. But choke it down long enough to spill the last lie from your pretty lips.

The nail in the coffin. The big finale. 

“I want… you to leave.” 

—

JANUARY 

It took three hours and all the boys from Corroded Coffin to help Eddie move his things out. He took a few days off from work to get his affairs in order. Filling out the proper paperwork to change his address back to the light blue trailer in Forest Hills for the time being. 

You weren’t home when it happened. He had made sure of it. 

When you closed your eyes at night you could still hear slam of metal connecting to metal when he slammed his van door and the crunch of ice and snow beneath his van tires as he sped away. 

You didn’t cry anymore when Metallica played on the radio. And nobody but you knew that every glass you had owned had been shattered against the front door when you came home to his empty room. 

A reality that had your eyes swollen for days. 

It took you two weeks to see the envelope on the table. A scrawl of shitty handwriting with your name on it. 

Tucked inside the pristine white envelope was more than twenty $100 bills, fresh from the bank. And a small note: 

“If you need more let me know, 

take care of yourself - Eddie 

That night you wept. Clutching onto the handmade shirt Eddie had given you, the night before the concert. The only thing remnant of him living in the house. Not counting the newer jar of pickles in the fridge, like the last— the lid was missing. 

Hot tears slid out of your eyes faster than a tub draining. A call to Robin is broken with blubbering hysterics and honking noises of your nose being blown into a wadded Kleenex, and in ten minutes time—she manages to drop everything to come and look after you. 

Countless hours slip by of her rubbing your back and even crying along with you, she swore Eddie and you were meant to be. Her words were blankets of comfort on you as she tried her best not to bring him up. 

She had promised both Steve and Eddie to not tell you where he was staying, for your own good. 

And like the kind hearted friend she was, Robin stayed for a few days. Taking off work and cooking meals for you even though you refused to eat. 

On the third day of not eating and refusing to leave your bed, she put a call in to Steve. He was hands on his hips disappointed in you. Lecturing you about how your actions hurt people and how you couldn’t be a brat forever. He threatened to dial the Wheeler’s to have Karen step in. 

But you wouldn’t budge. 

When Nancy had shown up on a Wednesday morning, she immediately went to work. Making a schedule for you to follow, and taking absolutely no bullshit when you told her you were a grown woman and could deal with things on your own. 

When she blacked out Eddie’s name from the calendar, silent tears fell down your cheeks. 

Seeing his name brought you both solace and pain. A reminder that you had done this yourself. That he wasn’t coming back. And it was because of you.

You moved with the motions of each day.

Shower 

Brushing your teeth 

Eating breakfast 

Getting ready for work 

Going to work 

Eating lunch 

Working

Driving home 

Eating supper 

Brush teeth 

Bedtime 

You sat in silence when you weren’t at work. Finding little to no enjoyment in anything anymore. Avoiding everyone’s calls. Staring at the 4 walls in your bedroom like a prison cell. Eddie’s stupid jar of pickles tucked snuggly between your crossed legs, your supper for weeks now. 

The only thing on your mind was him. He stuck with you in everything you did. He was everywhere. You even started drinking orange juice from the jug just like he did.

His laugh. The small giggly one he’d had since boyhood and the deep belly laugh he’d generate when you would roll your eyes at him, all of his teeth showing. 

His smile seemed to stretch across the Milky Way. Wide and pearly, ear to ear. His cheeks prickled with deep dimples. Somehow getting cuter with age. 

The darkest eyes full of mischief and wonderment. You could get lost in the Wonka chocolate river pooling in his eyes. Changing with his emotions like a mood ring, they gave him away.  

—

Corroded Coffin hadn’t played a gig since A Merry Corroded Christmas. Hard to play a show when the lead singer couldn’t pull it together during practices or remember to show up to them. 

Steve had stayed up with Eddie the first few nights, talking him off the edge of a violent end he didn’t see a way out of. 

He wouldn’t allow himself to forget that night. The passion was cosmic. And he knew you felt it too. Whether or not you would admit you were lying to yourself didn’t interest him. 

He was used to rejection. 

Used to feeling like he was nothing. 

What was breaking him was the ghost of you in his arms. Your sleeping body haunted his dreams, made the demons escape from hell and flood his vision. 

When he woke and you weren’t there the pain surfaced tenfold. And no amount of whiskey or Rick’s finest trees would fix it. 

The cycle never ending

He cared about you more than he cared about himself. 

The day you asked him to leave was a blur. He woke up at Gareth’s apartment a day later, no recollection of how he had gotten there. 

Your words etched into his skin like a tattoo. 

I want you to leave.

FEBRUARY

Still Loving You by Scorpions is playing on repeat between Nothing Else Matters by Metallica again in the guest house behind the lavish empty pool of Steve Harrington’s new home on Cornwalis St. 

Thirty some odd days had passed and Eddie Munson was nowhere near the man he used to be. 

Where his skin was once smooth shaven was now replaced by a prickly sparse beard. His once sparkling chocolate eyes were now dull and almost ashen. Dark circles rim his eyes from lack of sleep and poor nutrition, a diet of Marlboros, whiskey and pretzels giving him enough energy to work and come back to the same space he had called home for a few months. 

Throwing himself into working long hours at Boom’s he slept very little at night. When he did close his eyes he’d be jarred awake by a nightmare, one he hasn’t had since he was a kid. And he’d lay awake for hours replaying the same day over and over again in his mind. 

Each time ending the same way.

Shreds of notebook papers cluttered the floor, each littered with blue and black ink, all different but entirely the same subject: you.

Poems, songs, haikus and even a poorly written sonnet he had attempted while drunk at 2 AM sitting in a lounge chair he had drug out from the pool shed to sit along the edge of the frozen pool cover. 

His hair hadn’t been brushed in weeks. Leighanne offered to help comb out the tangles and mats but the burden was too much for him to handle. He denied her kindness, brushing it off with mumbled ‘m fine ’s and don’t worry ‘bout me ’s.

But in reality the thought of another woman’s hands in his hair only made the tears fall harder. 

When Eddie first moved in, Steve and Robin were still in the apartment, and Eddie’s things were moved to a storage unit across town. 

When the lease was up at the end of January, Robin moved into Vicky’s apartment over Surfer Boy Pizza and Steve purchased a house, along with an expensive diamond ring he would be anticipating on giving to an eager Leighanne, holding off until her birthday for the right time to pop the question. 

The Harrington/Buckley apartment was then subleased to Eddie. A sublease that didn’t last more than a week before he was booted out by the landlord for destruction of property when he accidentally started a fire in the kitchen. 

He was only trying to replicate your lasagna. 

Steve graciously invited Eddie to move in. and Eddie kept to himself for the most part. And on nights when sad music was blaring from the small guest house, Steve knew better than to ask if his friend wanted to play cards or kick back with a few beers. 

-T-

January came and went and close to the end of February  Josie told you she was cutting everyone’s hours, the salon would no longer be open on the weekends. The envelope Eddie had left for you was thrown into your night stand and you refused to use any of it. 

No one in town was hiring for another hairdresser so you opted to driving fifteen miles out of town to find another job. 

The job you had gotten was bartending at a rundown shithole bar worse than the Hideout. But the tips were good and your boss was sweet. A pot belly old farmer who only played country classics and served warm beer and peanuts, the shells making curved mountains on the filthy splintered wood floor.

It was refreshing to get out of Hawkins, but most importantly, it was the best chance you had at not running into someone who looked like him. 

Your body started to ache at all times, tender in places that never hurt before. Exhaustion thick on your features 

Months had passed and you hadn’t seen your friends. Nancy would call every now and then and check in. Jonathan and her were seeing a couples therapist for intimacy issues. She said Mike was hinting at proposing soon to El. 

Eddie’s shadow lingered on your skin and you swore you could feel his breath in your ear. Whispering how he loved you.

Some days were better than others, but most days you would get so worked up you would vomit from the pain. Betrayal splayed in your guts. Your mind was working against you.

His teary eyes and hurt expression were all you saw when you closed your eyes. And every night you cried yourself to sleep, cocooned into a pile of too many blankets, dreaming that Eddie was holding you tight against his chest, never leaving…never letting you go. 

MARCH

Eddie worked more than twelve hours a day, acting as two full time mechanics with how hard he was throwing himself into projects. Boom, although grateful for Eddie’s help and go-getter attitude, worried about him. Especially when he noticed the other two knot head mechanics he couldn’t afford to fire, helping themselves into his office flipping through personnel files. 

“Sean told me he makes more money than me! I was just checking to see how much more you think he’s worth! 

Aaron chuckled when Boom tossed him out of the office by his collar. 

A secret motive snug on his Copenhagen smile. The Information he was seeking: found and a reward would be granted for his loyalty to a long time friend.

…

“… alright fine, I guess pineapple is pretty good on pizza.”

“Told ya, Harrington, ” licking his lips, Eddie reached into the cardboard box and grabs another slice, the melting cheese stretching for what seemed like miles,  “I know good pizza.” 

Steve rolls his eyes, taking it easy on his friend who finally is looking like his normal self again after two months of becoming almost unrecognizable. 

The sad music didn’t play anymore. And his fingers didn’t bleed from writing songs about you. 

He was accepting what happened. Still sad, a little depressed but moving forward with his life. 

The date was approaching, Steve knew it and so did Eddie, neither wanted to talk about what he was going to do yet but Steve held his tongue for far too long. 

“so.. that Metallica concert is coming up… you still g—”

Before Steve could finish muttering, Eddie was already finishing his sentence, chewing along with his explanation. His fingers twirl the rings on his other hand. A nervous fit settling in his stomach.

“—already sold ‘em. Gonna drop the money I got for them in her mailbox tonight.” 

Steve shifts uncomfortably in his chair, threading fingers through his coiffed hair. “So that’s it huh?” 

“So what’s it?” Eddie questioned, nonchalantly standing suddenly from the table with a scratch of the chair's legs  against the tiled floor. Throwing his paper plate and napkin away, he stops at the trash can. Doubling back he almost cracks under the scrutiny of Steve’s eyes. 

“Steve, she doesn’t wanna be with me, we’ve been over this. I fucked up, came on too strong.” 

“I’m sorry man,” Steve apologizes, a drag of his large hands down his face. “I really thought she felt the same way—,” he huffs out a breath, “fuck, we all did!”

A shake of Eddie’s curls silences Steve’s words, the whirring noise in his ears, “I’m fine man, really. I’m gonna keep doing what we said we would all those years ago.” 

Walking towards the front door and stomping louder than he should have, Eddie thrusts his arms into his leather jacket, the silk inside cozy along his faded cotton shirt. 

His keys are hanging on the little hook by the door, Steve’s decorator thinking of every detail, he lets the brass teeth dig into his palm. 

“Even if she hates me Steve,” one hand on the silver doorknob, rings clicking against it in his tight grip, he turns his head and looks into pitiful moss colored eyes, as he delivers the only truth he’s ever known, “I still love her.”

Slamming home the driver’s door to the van and turning his key into the ignition, Skid Row’s I Remember You plays gently through the speakers. Eddie hums along and pats his thumbs against the steering wheel. 

It was true he was doing better.

His hair was combed through after using copious amounts of the cheapest conditioner Melvald’s had to offer. And he didn’t need the whiskey anymore to make it through the day. 

He yearned to see your face. 

Even if it was a glare his way or a raised eyebrow at something stupid he had to say, he’d do just about anything to see it. 

Would you be smiling? 

Were you happy without him? 

He hoped you were doing well, and maybe would want to be friends again. 

Turning onto Cherry Lane is pure nostalgia. It had only been a few months but everything looked the same. He felt different and maybe expected everything else to change along with him. 

And there it was. Your house. 

The house he had lived in, learned life skills he should have learned years ago, and most importantly shared the deepest love he’d ever felt with someone in his life.  

The windows were dark, except for a small light in the kitchen, a candle he assumed. The smell of vanilla warmed his nose as he thought of the familiar scent you had kept burning.

The driveway held your car and another he didn’t recognize. By first glance he thought maybe it could be Nancy. But she had just brought her old station wagon into Boom’s last week for a tire rotation. 

The license plates on the fancy BMW were not from Hawkins, housing the wrong number for the county on the Indiana plates. 

His ears heated with jealousy. Throat closing tight trying to hide a choked sob. 

How could you have moved on from him so quickly? The thought of you hooking up with someone while he was practically a dead man walking made him weak in the knees.

A punch to the gut. He had never felt so low in all of his life.

He couldn’t help himself when he jumped out of the van. Foregoing slamming the door. Stomping on cold concrete with shaky legs all the way to the front door. He fumed as he blinked back tears. 

He was prepared to make an ass out of himself. He’d announce himself the same way he had when he opened the door the day he has moved in all those months ago. 

A loud boisterous, HONEY, I’M HOME 

With knuckles raised and his heart hammering in his chest like a bee trapped in a tin can, he was ready to knock. 

Ready to see your shocked face with some faceless guy probably with a better job and stupid suits when Eddie’s wild hair and goofy grin was on the other side of the door. 

But he is stopped short when a muffled shrill scream vibrates off the walls and finds his ears.

see you in volume 12

🐑 (sacrificial for readmore)

[straykidshoe]

You're so pretty

PAIRINGS: Seo Changbin x Fem!Reader

GENRE: Mature (Smut)

MUSIC: Collide (Feat. Tyga) by Justine Skye

CONTAINS: Established relationship, shy!reader

SMUT WARNINGS: Thigh fucking, shower sex, groping, soft!changbin. Please message me if i misseed anything.

WORD COUNT: 1,530

A/N: For all of my shy girlies out there <3 hope you all like it!

You woke up later than usual- the mid morning sunlight streamed in through your sheer curtains, casting your window patterns onto your white sheets. Your spine tightened as you rolled over, searching for the familiar comfort that would normally be next to you, haphazardly tangled between the duvet- his chest rising and falling gently, letting you snuggle into his shoulder. Sitting up, you rested your chest on your bent knees- as you rubbed the sleep away from your eyes you scanned the room; missing the usual warm body that would’ve pulled you back to bed, lulling you back into a deep sleep.

You noticed how you were completely bare underneath the blanket, fresh memories of the night before flashing in your mind. You could feel your skin tingling as you remembered more and more- his skin against yours, him on his knees in front of you, dirty things whispered against your neck and ear. What a way to start the morning. 

You glanced over to the nightstand opposite you, noticing a neon yellow in your peripheral. Stretching over, you read the note whilst sipping on the water that was left next to it,

‘Tried to wake you up, didn’t work. I have a bruise to prove it. 

I’ll be back soon. Breakfast is outside. Try not to miss me too much.

P.S: I can still taste you on my lips.’

Goosebumps erupted on your skin, your nipples getting harder from the heightened sensitivity, shivering slightly as you looked around your room before pushing up and slipping on one of Changbins shirts along with a fresh pair of underwear. Stumbling out of your bedroom, you plodded your way to the kitchen- cringing at the loud slapping noise that echoed in the empty apartment. You felt yourself light up as you saw your favourite, toaster waffles with chocolate spread- you reminded yourself to thank your boyfriend later. Once you had finished your breakfast, you cleaned the house, brushed your teeth and hopped into the shower. 

The hot water cascaded down from the large waterfall shower head above as you scrubbed at your soft skin with a washcloth- the bubbles frothing with the friction. The small speaker you had set up in the bathroom played a random song from your playlist, humming as you swayed your naked hips to the beat.

The velvety vocals bounced off the marble walls, echoing around you- aiding the large man who was currently sneaking into the room. Suddenly, you felt two large hands encircling your waist- gasping out you twisted around in their grip, relaxing your face when you saw your boyfriends smiling face gazing down at you, ‘Babe! What are you doing?’ feeling your face go red, you hold your sudsy hands up against your exposed breasts. 

Changbin gently removed your hands- holding them in his large palms, ‘I felt lonely at work.. So i’m here’ he kissed the tip of your nose, laughing when you tried to look anywhere but his exposed torso. Your tongue went dry, five months of dating him and still- he manages to turn you into putty. Granted it was pretty easy, but that’s besides the point, ‘You left a few hours ago..’ you mumbled, fiddling with his fingers.

He was aware of your shy personality, finding your stuttering and avoidant nature adorable, ‘Should I go then?’ he questioned, a teasing lilt to his voice. Finally looking up, you met his large brown eyes, ‘N-no, it’s fine..’ chuckling to himself, he bent down and kissed your lips, making you even more flustered- your blood turned to lava, heating up all the pathways within you. 

The soft caress of his tongue made you weak it the knees, feeling your pulse dangerously escalate spurred him on- you felt his cock getting hard against your thigh. Panicking slightly, you pulled away- returning your gaze down to the shower floor you stepped out of the water, giving him space to soak himself in the warm downpour. He smiled softly, keeping his hands firmly planted on your hips, running his thumb up and down on the soft patch of skin. 

‘Help me?’ he asked, placing your coconut body wash bottle in your palm, with shaky fingers you squeezed out a generous amount of the thick liquid into your cupped hand. Taking a steadying breath in, you started at his neck, gently massaging the fragrant cleanser into his skin. You tried to meet his eyes that were staring down at you.

‘Stop looking at me like that..’ you grumbled, moving your hands down to his wide shoulders,

‘Like what, baby?’ Finally finishing his left arm, you moved onto the right.

‘Like you want to eat me.’ He laughed down at you, kissing the crown of your head. 

‘Can you blame me.. you’re delicious’ he purred into your ear, kissing the skin behind. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, smiling to yourself as you tilted your head up the need to kiss him again overpowering your nervousness. 

Instantaneously you felt relief wash over your entire body, as Changbin moaned into your mouth before hugging your midriff with his arms. Your core began to leak juices down your thighs, but the dull ache radiating from your walls made you whimper in pain; goosebumps raised on your skin, the duvet of steam creating beads of moisture to form on changbins toned stomach. Anxiety quickly rose within you, like water boiling in a pot, as you felt his calloused fingers drag up your pillowy thighs brushing against your pussy. You quickly pulled away, keeping your hands planted on his tapered waist; your boyfriend's face was painted in confusion, ‘What’s wrong?’ 

You chewed your lips, contemplating whether you should tell him the truth and risk upsetting him or gritting through the pain as he once again roughly fucked you into oblivion. As much as you wanted to please him and his insatiable habits, your poor vagina couldn’t handle his aggressive assault this time round. 

‘It hurts..’ you whimpered, nuzzling in between his pecs, trying to hide your red cheeks. He cooed down at you, ‘Aww poor baby, it’s okay- let me take care of you..’ He reached for the shampoo bottle but stopped midway when you rested your small hand on his bicep, ‘Wanna make you feel good, binnie..’ you gazed up at him, eyes starting to water from desperation. 

He took in your appearance shimmering, wet skin with large sparkling eyes and red cheeks. You look adorable, and so ready to be ruined..

‘You sure?’ He caressed your flaming cheeks with his large palm, smiling softly when you relaxed in his hold whilst nodding your head, ‘Okay, I have an idea..do you trust me?’ he asked, caution evident in his voice, ‘Yea, just want to please you.’ 

Suddenly, he twisted your body in his hold, so that your back was plastered against his front- snaking his hand up your stomach towards your breasts, he played with your puckered nubs whilst sucking on your pulse point. Moaning loudly you arched forward, pushing your tits further into his cupped palms, he chuckled against your wet skin whilst nudging your thighs open slightly with his thigh. Your breath hitched, ‘Relax precious, it won’t hurt at all..’ Changbin murmured against your neck- feeling him slide into the small gap he created you whined at the feeling of your thighs encasing his hard dick, the precum staining your skin leaving a path down as the water washed it away. 

His heavy pants tickled the shell of your ear, he ensnared your neck with one large hand as the other held your pelvis against his, ‘You ready princess?’ meekly nodding your head, you gasped when he slid out of your thighs; before slowly re-entering the thigh gap. You let your head lay limp on his shoulder, the overwhelming feeling of his cock slowly getting slicker and slicker with your juices and therefore moving with more ease between your flesh made your entire body shiver with excitement. 

Both of your moans echoed around the shower cubicle, mingling with the sound of both of your pelvis bumping together rhythmically. Slowly, Changbin’s moans turned into desperate whimpers and groans, you could tell he was teetering on the edge of his orgasm- his cock twitching helplessly against your cunt.

His thrusts became sloppy as his stamina was running out, wanting him to reach his high- you squeezed your thighs together, causing him to gasp against your shoulder, ‘Fucking-’ he bit down on your skin, secretly hoping that there would be visible marks of his teeth descorating your pure, clean canvas.

You started moving back and forth in tandem with his movements, fervently and messily clenching your thighs. Soon enough his breaths started to quicken as his moans became high pitched and the reflection of his face in the faucet showed his eyebrows being drawn together harshly, ‘Please cum around my thighs binnie, wanna feel you…’ your words threw him straight into his orgasm as he drew back completely- jerking his cum onto your ass and back thighs. 

Breathing heavily, he twisted you back around- bumping his nose against yours, ‘you look so pretty covered in my cum baby..'

[charliehoennam]

aftermath.

A/N: nobody asked for this, but all I've seen is Will smut (which I totally love, don't get me wrong) but I need some vulnerable Will

Pairing: Will Miller x f!reader

Warnings: grief, mourning, sad!will, mentions of death, mentions of Will's military past and Tom's funeral

One of the things you've always admired about Will is his strength. He was always the one to put on a brave face and push on. The captain in him had the duty of moving forward and completing whatever mission was at hand, whether it was getting his team to the landing zone or grocery shopping day at home.

It was that very same strength he possessed that got him through the darkest times in his life.

Losing his war veteran grandfather, losing his comrades in combat or to the haunting PTSD that they tried to chase away with substance abuse.

Before you came into his life, before he realized that he was lost in the same fog of that purgatory of PTSD, shutting his emotions out is the only thing he knew. After all that time, he came to believe it was easier than having to deal with them.

It just wasn't a priority; a moment of tears he refused to share with anyone anywhere other than sat naked and alone on the shower floor.

Tom wasn't the first friend he'd lost, but it doesn't mean it made losing him any easier.

It was easy for him to plaster a smile and bury his grief deep down until he felt it was time to unbury it and mourn.

Getting to that point of self-awareness was a victory in itself.

It took so much patience and love and pain, not only on his behalf but yours as well, to help him to understand what he was really struggling with.

He hadn't realized it had gotten so uncontrollable until the incident at Publix - the grand revelation of the weapon he could be, once shred of his humanity, provided the cathartic acceptance of the fact that he needed help.

Upon federal investigation, the story they told was that Tom had been shot and killed in a tragic mugging incident on their consultation trip. Just a boys' night out gone bad.

It wasn't too hard to believe, given they were 5 foreigners in a country that wasn't theirs. The heat from the Feds didn't last long. Thanks to Santiago's few but faithful contacts, that investment was quickly brought to an end.

It's barely 6 a.m. and you're stood in the kitchen making coffee, still processing how this all happened.

Your black dress is simple but elegant and modest against your body. Despite the itchy fabric, you can feel the early morning chill soaking through.

The dripping of the coffee maker lures you into a whirlwind of thoughts. You watch the droplets of dew form on the kitchen window against the cloudy sky which threatens to rain.

You start to second guess the toast when it pops up in the toaster. You're not the slightest bit hungry and you're positive Will won't be either, but you have to try.

He hasn't eaten right in the past couple days. You didn't say anything, but you've noticed the few bites he'd given his food and the way he'd pick at it.

He should've been ready and downstairs by now, so you decide to go up and check on him.

Moving forward is hard for most people, but for Will, it's what keep the pain at bay. The problem is when he stops.

Like a tornado, he's left with the screaming silence and the damage it left in it's wake.

Now that he's home, the mission of bringing Tom home is complete, the hard truth that his friend and mentor is gone has begun to sink in.

You gently knock on the door as you reach your shared bedroom.

"Honey, do you want any help?"

"I'm good, sweetheart. I'll be right out."

You can hear him sniffle despite his attempt to sound as normal as possible. Unconvinced, you turn the knob and open the door.

He's sat on the edge of the bed wearing a simple black suit as he looks back over his shoulder at you with a Marine coin in hand, a gift from Tom when Will confessed about his therapy sessions.

You aren't too surprised to see he changed out of the formal military blue suit he had out on earlier.

The ribbons, the medals, the badges... He couldn't put them on without feeling the crushing and staining weight of guilt.

"Lat minute outfit change?"

The corner of your lips curl in an attempt to smile, hoping to cheer him up with a bit of tease.

"I was gonna wear my dress blues, but..." he trails off for a moment to swallow hard. "Just didn't feel right."

Without a word, you quietly walk over and sit beside him. You're not sure what he needs right now, but you don't want him to feel alone.

"Black is more flattering if you ask me," you speak up.

His beard twitches as he attempts to smile. He knows you just want to help him feel better. Yet all he can do is stare down at the gold coin.

"Five times... Five times. Five close calls. And he survived them all. He didn't deserve to go out like that. He just wanted to help his family."

You fight back tears as you listen to him with an arm wrapped his back as you press your cheek to his shoulder.

"I told Santi to get him in. I said I'd go if Tom was in. Tom didn't even want to go in the first place. He didn't-"

There's a crack in his voice which he catches it in his throat to compose himself. He sniffles letting a tear cascade down his cheek only to wipe it away quickly, hoping you hadn't seen it.

"This isn't on you, Will."

He nods although you both know deep inside that he won't stop blaming himself.

"When you told me you were a marine, I knew the risks that came with that, Will. Every knock on the door had my heart racing. But I decided to stay with you because I love you. There wasn't a person on earth or a God in the sky that was gonna tell me otherwise. I knew the risks and I took 'em anyways because not having you would've hurt more... I don't understand how fate works other than we all end up the same. What I do know is that all we can do is love our close ones and cherish the good memories you have of them."

With a tearful and silent nod, he lowers his head and rests it against your chest. His arms lock around your waist as he surrenders to the tears in your embrace.

The tears quietly trickle down your cheeks as you listen to him finally breaking down.

With your lips pressed against his golden hair, you hold him in your arms and stroke the hair on the back of his neck to soothe him for as long as he needs.

All you can do is hold him through it and he couldn't be more thankful to have you in such a vulnerable moment after having faced them on his own for so many years.

Just the feeling of not being alone was overwhelming enough, but to have you holding him and reminding him of the things that are easy to ignore in grief give him hope.

Although he feels he's coming apart, he knows that he'll have the strength he's always had.

It's different now. It's not the strength to bury and forget; it's the strength to heal.

With a sigh of relief after a long, vulnerable moment, he pulls away from you and nods, mentally assuring himself that he's alright.

Upon arriving at the church, you're greeted by Molly so you offer your deepest condolences due to the circumstances. Just as Will, you find that the guys have all opted to wear normal black suits instead of the formal military uniform and you wonder if it's for the same reason.

"Sorry for that," he sniffles wiping his eyes as he tries to regain his composure, swallowing hard with guilt. "We should get going... I don't wanna be late."

You remind him that there is no need to apologize and that he can take the time to splash some water on his face to help him recollect before leaving.

Frankie doesn't say a word other than to Molly and the girls, apologizing for their loss. Throughout the priest's religious ceremony of easing words, Benny's apathetic eyes are glued to Tom's casket set in front of the church between his military portrait and a beautiful arrangement of white flowers. During Will's heartfelt eulogy, Santiago keeps his head lowered as the guilt consumes him.

The grift and sadness during the wake only follow and weigh heavier during the long walk to the gravesite, lingering among the guests of the funeral like a dark cloud. It's only reflected in depths by the light rain pitter-pattering all around.

The military traditions at the funeral leave a bitter tinge of irony in the boys as they watch Tom's casket lowering into the ground.

Tess's happy big doey eyes are now swollen and red as she cries under her mother's arm, hugging the folded flag as if it were her dad, while Molly holds her other and youngest daughter under the other arm.

Looking over at Will, you see that he's trying his hardest to keep his strong facade as well as the boys.

You slide your hand into his and whisper to remind him he's not alone and doesn't have to feel alone.

With a gentle squeeze to your hand, he nods.

"You with me?"

"I'm with you."

You and Will - as well as the guys and Tom's family - are the last to leave, reminding Molly that you're more than willing to help with anything.

Will, however, lingers a moment to speak to her private and tells her about the fund. You can tell from her reaction, she's genuinely surprised and thankful, relieved to know that she'll be able to pay for the funeral.

Having called your boss the previous day to let them know you wouldn't be going to work due to the funeral, you take the rest of the day off to recover from the overwhelming day after the funeral.

The drive home is quiet save for the rain against the car and the windshield, echoing into the vehicle which you insisted on driving to give Will some mental ease. He didn't put up a fight. He was quite relieved you'd offered.

In spite of being eager to understand how he's doing, you refuse to burden him with constant questions and decide to respect his mourning process. So, you keep a hand on his thigh to remind you're in this together.

He doesn't mind it at all. In fact, he is grateful for your respect and your thoughtfulness. His hand rests over yours and doesn't leave until you have to pull your hand back to turn the steering wheel, but it finds it's way back onto his leg, warm fully welcomed by his engulfing hand.

As you're undressing in your room, Will's hand catches yours while you're unzipping your dress.

"Thanks... I don't know about you, but I'd say this weather is perfect cuddling weather," you share letting the dress hang loosely off your shoulders.

Will smiles shyly as if you'd read his mind and locks his arms around your waist.

"I couldn't agree more."

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Have a Good Day [Frankie x f!reader]

Read on Ao3

My Frankie Morales masterlist

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Ship: Francisco “Catfish” Morales x you (cishet f!reader)

Warnings: Female masturbation, piv quickie. That's it.

Summary: Frankie may have to get up for work this morning, but you sure don't. Spoiler alert: he's going to be late.

Words: 1,176

The alarm brings you out of sleep, harshly, but to be fair, Frankie gains consciousness a lot quicker than you, and turns it off. He turns back to you, hand seeking you out between the sheets, and gives you a quick, soft squeeze, and a kiss, to which you reply with a sleepy hum. He then gets out of bed and leaves you to sleep. You have a rare day off, he has not, but he promised to try to leave early for the opportunity of spending time together in the afternoon and evening.

As soon as he leaves the bedroom, you roll over onto his side of the bed. Smelling him in the sheets, basking in the lingering body warmth he left for you, it's easy to go back to sleep. The ghost of Frankie's presence makes you feel so safe and comfortable - and horny. Lazily, you turn over onto your back and hitch up your nightgown. The insides of your thighs are soft and warm, and you trail your fingers over your folds, a smile on your lips as you listen to Frankie preparing breakfast in the kitchen. The sounds are so familiar: his heavy footsteps, the making of coffee, the radio that he always turns on in the mornings (but he lowers the volume now that you didn't rise with him), the pop of the toaster when the bread is done. The chair moving when he sits down to eat.

You cup your breast, tease the nipple into erection, inhale the scent of Frankie's shampoo on his pillow, and softly touch yourself, fingertips playing with your clit and lips. Rolling over onto your stomach, you start to languidly move your hips, sleepily humping your hand between your legs. Face down in Frankie's pillow, you can bring back the physical recollection of his weight on top of you when he fuck you lazily from behind like this, his thick cock in the slick, tight embrace of your cunt, his soft belly pressing into your back, his broad shoulders shadowing you, those strong arms around you as he hotly groans into your ear how good you feel. Your pussy starts to feel heavy and wet, the pressure against your clit is delectable. You kick off the covers when the climb starts, the rise towards the desirable high. You release a first, audible moan into the pillow. Your fingers get covered in your glossy arousal when you slide them inside you. Turning back onto your back, you draw out the slick of your pussy to better circle your clit. Thighs twitching, you bite down on your lower lip and release a muffled moan. You imagine Frankie's hands on you, his lips, his tongue inside you, his cock, his skin against yours, oh, God, just the thought of his warm, naked skin makes you rub your clit faster, or the calluses on his hands when he surely but gently holds you, caresses you, has his way with you...

"Frankie," you whisper when you start to feel the first waves of orgasm lapping against your shores. "Little more... yes... that's it..."

When you cum, you can't help crying out Frankie's name. It's your invocation for sexual ecstasy, your prayer, your curse. His name will always be on your lips when your brain is blissed out. Thighs trembling, your knees slump open, and you exhale with a deep sigh as you enjoy the aftermath of your orgasm: your heart racing, pumping heat around your body, your brain soggy, your thighs slick. Perfect.

"Babe?" Frankie's voice comes from the hallway, and the next moment he shows up in the doorway.

"Did you call for me?"

He stops when he sees your disheveled form, and you hear him start to ask you if you're okay, but halfway through his sentence, he realizes what's been going on.

"Oh."

You hum, smiling as your eyes blink open to take in his amused smirk.

"Morning..."

"You're not good at playing innocent," he points out as he walks up to the bed. You stretch, legs still open, and slide your hand down to the apex of your thighs. Frankie's eyes follow, and he inhales sharply.

"Baby, that's not fair, you know I don't have time..."

"That's fine," you yawn as you slowly separate your lips with your fingers to show him how wet you are. "That's absolutely fine, you can just think about this at work all day..."

Frankie groans, and you shoot him a teasing smile as you reach to touch his hardening cock through the underwear he's still wearing.

"Or you could just take me," you suggest nonchalantly, like it's no nevermind to you. "Just bend me over here, or bend me double, and just fuck me, use me to cum, because I'm already wet, and I already had an orgasm, so you'd just have to put it in and fuck me..."

His chocolate eyes are veiled and dark when he looks at you, and you know he's made up his mind to be late this morning. Quickly scooting to the edge of the bed, you position yourself and pull him out of his underwear. He's half hard already, and you rub him against your wet folds until he's fully hard, and you nock him at your entrance and give a choked cry when he pushes in. Frankie grabs your legs and holds them together against him, kisses your feet, and hugs them to one side as he begins to fuck you with short, energetic thrusts. You hold onto the bedding as you are pushed up the bed, and you reach your hand towards him, and Frankie takes it, arm muscles flexing when he holds onto you, his other arm curled around your calves. Your pussy welcomes him, revels in each push until he releases his cum with a loud growl, and your pussy greedily swallows all of it.

Panting, Frankie gently lowers your legs, and bends down to kiss you on the lips.

"I'm gonna blame you for being late."

"You do that. Tell them the pussy was just too good."

He chuckles. "On second thought, I'm gonna keep my reasons to myself."

You kiss him again, smiling widely when you taste the coffee on his tongue.

"Is there any coffee for me?"

"Of course."

Slowly, you make your way out of bed, and Frankie gets dressed. Before he leaves, he catches you in his arms, hands sneaking up underneath your nightgown to cop a feel of your ass as he kisses you good-bye.

"See you later," he murmurs, then adds, in an even lower voice: "Keep that thing warm for me."

"Definitely," you promise, new heating pooling between your legs. "Have a good day."

You don't even make it to the kitchen, and the coffee waiting there. As soon as Frankie leaves, you return to bed, take the dildo out of the bedside drawer, and your phone.

Frankie may not be here to enjoy the sight of you fucking yourself, but that's no reason for him not to see it.

[oh-my-damn]

Good Places in Boston

Pairing: Colin Shea x Bestfriend/Neighbor!Reader

Summary: Your bestfriend and neighbor Colin comes to you in agony when it becomes a physical problem to think of you with anyone else.

Warnings: Angst, yelling, getting in a fight. Friends to lovers type beat, Colin is such a major fuckboy and reader is sick of it and wallows a bit in self pity (with wine lmao), fluff, this part is clean but I would def be up to writing a part 2 if it's wanted!

Wordcount: 5100

The beautiful divider is by @firefly-graphics

"Colin, what are you doing here?"

Colin sends you his characteristic grin, his fingers drumming on the pillar in your apartment as he leans against it, "Well, I uh.. I needed an escape."

"An escape from what, exactly?" You ask as you take a bite out of your breakfast bagel, quirking a brow in his direction.

"Well, I uhm... Have a girl at my place."

You roll your eyes, "Oh, so you invaded my private space to avoid the girl you just slept with... Again."

Colin laughs, "When you put it that way, it makes me sound like a total asshole."

"Maybe that's because you are a total asshole," you quip, sipping your orange juice, "I've told you numerous times that I don't like when you use me like this."

"Hey!" Colin immediately exclaims, "I'm not using you! I would never!"

Your eyes trail over his naked torso, the sweatpants he's wearing hanging so low on his hips, you're surprised they haven't slipped off already.

You place a hand on your hip as you look at him pointedly, "Sure you wouldn't. Tell me again why you're at my apartment at eight in the morning?"

Colin eyes you for a moment before he sighs, "Fine. You're smarter than me and figured me out. Is that what you want to hear?"

"No," you snort, tidying up your kitchen as you speak with your back turned to him, "What I'd like to hear would be; 'I met this girl and she's amazing and I'm gonna marry her because she's the best.' But for some reason, you keep ruining that."

Colin scoffs obnoxiously, "Why do you keep holding on to that fantasy?"

"Because I know you," you reply as you turn around to face him, "And I know you deserve an amazing person in your life. As your friend, I have a right to believe that. And I also have a right to believe that you're sabotaging yourself by sleeping with random girls every night."

Colin groans, "Will you fucking quit it, already? I don't know where you got the idea that I need to settle down when I've always told you that I don't want to settle down."'

"Right, you want to keep sleeping with strange women every night because it makes you feel better about yourself."

"Exactly!" Colin grins, "I love that about me."

You snort again, "Well I hate that about you. It's one of the things I tolerate about our friendship."

Colin walks up to you, plucking the breakfast bagel out of your hand before he takes a bite, "Please, shut it. It's not like you're any better."

"Better than you?" You scoff, narrowing your eyes at him, "Come on, Col. You must know I'm better than you when it comes to this."

"When we met each other you were just as much of a slut as I was."

"Yeah!" You exclaim loudly, "Five years ago! Did you not realize that it's been that long? Or do you just not believe that people change?"

Colin rolls his eyes, "No, what I don't believe is the fact that you're now suddenly celibate because you want to get married. That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard."

You frown, turning your back to him as you put another bagel in the toaster, "Well, just because you don't believe it, it doesn't mean it isn't true."

"Oh come on!" Colin laughs, placing a hand on your shoulder, "You're so full of shit. I saw a guy leave your place yesterday."

You whip around to face him, your eyes narrowing, "Yeah, you did. The same guy that's been leaving my place for the last couple of months."

"What?"

"I'm dating someone," you say, frowning as your eyes meet his, "I've been dating Robert for months now."

"You're dating someone?"

"Yes!" You reply, rolling your eyes, "And you'd know more about him if you ever asked. But you never do! All you ever talk about are the random girls you fuck. Or Mexican wrestling."

"Wait.." He drags out, tilting his head as his eyes narrow, "So you're telling me you're dating someone? Someone serious? And you have been for months?"

"Oh my god, Colin," you sigh, stuffing the bagel into his mouth, "Yes, I am dating. And I have been for a while. Why is that so hard to believe?"

Colin pulls the bagel out of his mouth as he takes a step back, "It's not hard to believe.."

"Then what's with the attitude?"

"There's no attitude," he quickly interjects, "I was just.. I don't know.. Surprised."

"Well, you wouldn't be if our entire friendship wasn't based off of you and your conquests."

"Come on," Colin scoffs, "You know that's not true."

"Isn't it?" You immediately reply, "Because it seems to be the focus of our friendship."

Colin's brows furrow, "Yeah, but not on purpose.. That's just how it's always been.."

"Yeah," you scoff, turning your back once again to butter your fresh bagel when it pops out of the toaster, "That's how it's always been because I'm a good friend and that's what you need. The only times I basically see you anymore is when you come to hide out at my place. I don't feel the need to tell you about what's going on with me."

"Why not?"

You frown, looking at him over your shoulder, "Because you don't care about what's going on with me."

Just as you turn your back to him to focus on the task at hand, he replies, "I care."

"Colin," you groan, shaking your head as you focus on your bagel, "The only important person in your life is you. And I'm okay with that. I've accepted it. But don't fucking lie to me, I don't like being lied to."

"That's not true. And I'm not lying."

You scoff again, turning around to look at him as your arms cross over your chest, "So you're telling me that I hurt your feelings by not telling you about the guy I'm seeing? Come on, Col, we both know you don't give a shit."

"I do give a shit, though," he grits out, glaring at you, "And I can't believe you didn't tell me."

"Will you stop it? It's not that big of a deal. Can you just go back to being your normal self, please?"

"I am being normal."

"No, you're not," you huff, "You're being weird.. And I don't like it."

"Well, excuse me for having a reaction to you telling me you're dating someone," he loudly exclaims, turning his back to you before he starts walking away, "And that you apparently kept it secret because I'm such an awful friend."

"Colin-"

"No!" He yells, glaring at you, "Fuck off. You've said enough. I should leave."

He marches to your door stubbornly, making you huff out, "I thought you needed to hide out here so you wouldn't have to deal with your one night stand? Isn't that the only reason you ever come to see me?"

"Fuck you!" He yells, slamming the door behind him as he walks out.

"Well, fuck you too," you mumble, walking back to your kitchen to finish eating your bagel.

Five entire days went by without you seeing Colin.

That's the longest you've gone without seeing him since college. On the second day, you contemplated reaching out, but you also knew you'd done literally nothing wrong.

You were just being honest.

Truth is, you loved Colin.

In fact, you'd loved him since the second day you met him. And for the rest of your college days, you were also in love with him. But the closer you got, the more it faded.

The more you watched him hook up with a new girl every night, most of the time right in front of you, the more it went away.

When you found an available apartment in his building, you didn't know if you'd actually stay friends. You always suspected he just kept you close by in college to hit on your friends.

But then you moved in across the hall from him and he decided to keep you around. But he mainly did it so he'd have somewhere to go when he needed to hide from the women he brought home.

To be fair, usually when he'd come by, you two would end up spending most of the day together. You'd watch Mexican wrestling (he's obsessed with it and it's actually quite entertaining, so you didn't mind), or he'd play you music he'd been working on. Sometimes you'd both be doing separate things but within the same space, sharing a comfortable silence. Or you'd watch movies or simply just talk.

But there had always been a.. distance, between the two of you. He always had a hard time opening up, sharing parts of himself. You knew you meant something to him because on rare occasions, he would show a softer side to himself. Like when his dad died. He came to you for support and you did everything to help in any way you could, and it helped you get to know him a little better. He wasn't as guarded as usual.

But eventually, things went back to normal. Which meant he went back to hiding out in your place. You didn't mind that he was hiding, it wasn't about that. It was about the fact that it felt like that was the only reason he came to see you.

In the three years you've lived across the hall from him, he's had countless one night stands. Several times a week, if he wasn't working too much or was too busy to go out. It never grows old - at least not to him.

But it did to you.

Being in love with him did too.

It wasn't more than a few months ago when you decided that the dwindling feelings you harbored for him were not healthy.

That was the night you went on your first date with Robert.

And he's great; charming, handsome.. The only thing that's missing is that feeling inside.

The one you feel whenever Colin is around.

"I can come up if you want me to."

You're smiling politely up at Robert as you finish another very adequate date, but you're just not in the mood.

You haven't been in the mood for the past few days, but you don't really know why..

Actually, you do.

You know exactly why.

But you refuse to admit it.

"I'd love that, truly," you reply with a small smile, "But I'm feeling pretty.. icky, from the food tonight. I don't know, maybe I ate the wrong thing.. And I feel completely knackered out. I'm sorry Robert, is it okay that I call a raincheck on your offer?"

Robert just offers you a warm smile, "Yeah, of course. Don't worry about it."

He really is a very sweet guy. Not everyone would take a rejection that nicely. You've only been seeing each other for a few months, and it's not exactly serious; you haven't had the talk yet, and you're not exclusive with each other, either.

But he's nice and kind. Very sweet and understanding. And he's making an effort to get to know you.

Robert leans down to peck your cheek, making your smile widen before he pulls back.

"I'll see you later this week."

Once you're inside your building, you trudge up the stairs. You lied when you said you were feeling sick, but you weren't lying when you said you were tired.

Your body feels heavy, your head groggy as you walk up to your place, your mind wandering aimlessly.

You keep thinking back to the date with Robert, and how truly sweet and kind he is, but for some reason you also keep focusing on the fact that something is missing.

And once that thought hits you, your mind inevitably wanders back to Colin.

Fucking asshole. First he infiltrates your apartment and now your mind.

You shake your head and sigh once you reach the final flight of stairs. But you immediately tense up when you hear an oddly familiar sound.

Your eyes dart up at the sound of a high-pitched giggle, immediately landing on a tall, beautiful blonde, practically hanging off Colin's side.

You roll your eyes as you continue walking, glancing shortly at Colin as he fumbles with his keys to get the door open.

You walk past them, your eyes catching Colin's for a split second before he darts his away, back to focusing on getting his front door open.

You walk to your door, swiftly unlocking it, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when you hear the girl giggle out a "Colin, come ooon," before you slam the door shut.

Wine.

You need wine. Only wine can fix this dark cloud seemingly permanently hovering over you.

You hang up your coat before you patter into your bedroom, immediately changing into a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top. You swiftly move to your kitchen, grabbing a bottle of wine and a large glass, and then you plop down on your couch.

Before you know it, you've drank half a bottle while watching some mindless rom-com on TV.

Is this really what it's come to?

You have a perfectly sweet guy, who would have loved to spend the night with you, and yet you're sitting here, moping on the couch and drinking wine. Alone.

Stupid Colin. Stupid Colin with his beautiful stupid face, and sculpted abs, and firm chest, and perfectly round ass, with his large hands that could-

Stop it!

You shake your head at your thoughts, topping off your glass of wine. You need to focus, need to get your shit together.

Maybe it's time you find somewhere else to live.

Yeah. That'll fix it.

You immediately pick up your laptop from the coffee table, perching it on top of your lap as you start typing.

Good places in Boston

Yikes. Okay, that's not going to work. You don't have that kind of money..

Cheap places in Boston.

Double yikes. You want to run away from your distractions, not get murdered..

You sigh, looking through some of the places as you take another sip of wine. Your fingers move over the keyboard before you can even stop yourself.

Places to live in Boston when you're trying to run away from your feelings

You chuckle at the fact that a few options actually pop up, immediately clicking through the pictures.

But then you almost spill your glass of wine on your computer when your front door is suddenly pushed open.

"Alright, we need to talk!"

Colin loudly slams the door shut behind him as he walks inside, making you snap your head to the side to look at him.

"Col, what the fuck?!" You exclaim, placing your laptop down on the coffee table, "What the hell? I thought I locked it, how are you in here?"

"No," he stomps inside, sending you a pointed look, "You didn't. Just like you never do. Sometimes I think you have a death wish."

You roll your eyes and pull your feet up on the couch, tilting your head as your eyes narrow, "Thanks for the lesson, I'll remember to lock it next time. Maybe that'll keep the assholes out."

"That's it!" He yells, crossing his arms as he walks up to you and stands in front of the couch, "We need to talk!"

"Oh, you think so? About what?" You retort, mirroring his expression as you cross your arms over your chest.

"Yes, I do!" He exclaims, clearly missing the sarcastic tone of your voice.

"What are you doing here?" You frown, glaring at him, "I'm pretty sure I saw you with a date. Shouldn't you be entertaining her?"

"I sent her home," he huffs, his stance tense. Your eyes momentarily gaze over him, noticing his grey sweatpants and his t-shirt. But then you inwardly sigh when you spot the text written on it; Free Licks.

"Okay," you sass, "And what's that got to do with me?"

"Everything!" He bellows, arms waving about exasperatedly, "It's all your fault!"

"What?" You snort, watching him as he walks closer to you on the couch, "How the fuck is that my fault? I didn't exactly invite you here, you're the one barging in!"

"Because I can't fucking... Ugh! You're so annoying!"

He huffs out a breath before he plops down on the couch dejectedly, practically staring daggers at you, "You ruined everything!"

"Colin," you sigh, shaking your head as you turn your body to face him. He's slumping down on the couch, legs spread wide, his face reminding you of a kicked puppy, "What are you talking about?"

"I can't do it anymore!" He exclaims, gesturing with his hands exasperatedly, "It doesn't work anymore! You broke it!"

"Broke what?" You frown, tilting your head at him.

"Me!" He yells, whipping his head to the side to look at you properly, "You broke me!"

You snort again.

"How exactly did I break you?"

"You were mean to me and now I can't do it anymore. It's your fault!"

"Okay, stop yelling," you sigh, sitting criss cross on the couch, looking at him, "Elaborate, please."

Colin sighs deeply before he turns his body towards you, "You fucking broke me. You were talking about that shit, about you, and settling down, and just-ugh! You fucking ruined it."

"Colin," you shake your head in confusion, "I have no idea what you're talking about. Do you mean that you're upset because we had a fight?"

"No," he replies, his eyes trailing over your living room, "I'm not just upset because we had a fight, it's not that. It's-"

His eyes narrow when they land on your computer and before you can even object, he snags it off the table, "What the fuck is this?! You're looking for an apartment?!"

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth as your eyes dart down, not saying a word.

His head whips to the side to look at you, "Are you moving?!"

"No, I was just looking-"

"Why?!"

"Please, stop yelling," you mumble, rubbing your temples with your fingers, "You're going to give me a fucking migraine."

His eyes move back to the computer screen, long slender fingers quickly tapping the touchpad as he looks through the site, "Why are you moving?"

You shrug, your fingers fiddling with the hem of your shorts, "I'm not, I'm just.. Looking. I just wanted to see what else is out there, just to, you know.. Have a look."

"But you love living here," he mumbles, glancing at you before he looks back at the screen, "And these places are.. Wait a fucking second."

You glance up at him at his tone, your breath almost hitching when you're met with the stern look on his face.

"Are you moving in with him?"

You scrunch your face up in confusion, "What?"

"You are!" He exclaims, fingers now clicking furiously on the touchpad as he glares at the computer screen, "You're fucking.. You're moving in with him! I can't believe this.. Why would you do that?!"

You put your hands up to calm him, "Okay, hey, calm down, that's not-"

"Why are you moving in with him?!"

You blink a few times as he looks at you, his eyes searching your face. You take a moment too long to reply, making him speak again, "Do you love him?"

"What? Colin, it's-"

"You fucking love him," he breathes out, eyes widening as he looks back at the computer, "You broke me, and now you're gonna move in with this fucking guy, and you're gonna leave, and-"

"Colin!" You interrupt, making him look at you again, "Calm. Down. I am not moving in with him. I was just looking for fun. Calm your fucking tits, Shea."

"But do you love him?"

Your brows furrow at his question.

Why would he ask that?

Your eyes search his face and it has this strange vulnerability to it, one you haven't seen many times before. It's so rare, because he usually hides who he truly is. The only times you've ever seen it have been when something awful has happened, like when his dad died and you went with him to his funeral for support.

Your words are quieter than before when you ask, "Why do you want to know?"

He takes a deep breath, cerulean eyes holding yours captive as he whispers, "I just.. I want to know.. Do you?"

You wait for a moment, holding his piercing gaze, "No, I don't love him."

He releases a breath, your eyes not missing how he visibly relaxes where he sits. Then his eyes move back to the computer without him saying a word.

"Why are you here, Colin? What's going on?"

"You broke me," he mumbles, not looking at you, "I don't work like I used to, anymore."

"What does that mean?"

"Means I can't fucking get it up," he grumbles, clicking through the pictures on the website, "Can't have sex, it's like you're infiltrating my mind. No matter how hard I try, or who I've brought home in the past five days, I can't fucking do it. Can't even masturbate, how pathetic is that?"

He lets out a dry laugh as he continues looking at the pictures on the website, not even glancing your way.

You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, slamming against your ribcage as nerves swirl around your body.

"Why do you think that is?"

"Dunno," he mumbles, "I just keep thinking about you, it's so infuriating. It's never happened to me before, I don't know what the fuck is going on. I think your domesticated stink rubbed off on me, or something.."

You smile, watching the side of his face as he keeps his focus on your computer. "Or maybe it's something else."

"Like what?" He asks dumbly, turning his head to look at you, "You think I'm going impotent?"

You snort, shaking your head, "No, you idiot, you're not going impotent."

"Then what is it? Is this normal? Can you help me? I'm going fucking crazy here."

You nod slowly, eyes holding his, "Yeah, I uh.. I've heard about this before."

"What does it mean?" He asks you urgently, putting the laptop back down on the coffee table so he can face you fully, "How do I fix it?"

"I'm afraid you can't."

"What?! Why not?! I can't live like this!"

You chew on your bottom lip nervously as you hold back a smile at his words, and you don't miss the way his eyes immediately dart down to your lips at the action.

"I don't think it's something that needs fixing, Col. I think it means something else."

"What does it mean?" he mumbles out, eyes staying locked on your lips, "What should I do?"

You lean closer until you can cup his cheek, making his eyes move back up to meet yours, "I think it means you have some feelings that you're trying to ignore."

He scoffs softly, eyes bouncing between your own as he whispers, "But I don't get feelings.."

You chuckle softly, tilting your head, "I'm sorry to tell you this.. But I think you do."

Colin's eyes widen slightly at your words, then dropping to your lips again, "So.. What do I do? How do I get rid of them?"

"Sweetie," you smile, making him meet your eyes again. Your thumb gently rubs his cheek as you whisper, "Why would you want to get rid of them?"

His brows furrow, baby blue eyes scanning yours, "Because they're ruining me. I don't work anymore, I can't-"

He trails off when you lean a little closer, his breath hitching audibly.

"What was that?" You ask, tiling your head, "What were you about to say?"

Colin keeps searing eye contact, his blue eyes slowly being swallowed out by his pupils as he breathes out, "I can't get it up."

You smirk, your eyes darting down to his crotch momentarily, noticing the large bulge straining against his jeans, before you whisper, "You sure about that?"

He looks at you in complete and utter fascination, a dumbfounded expression pulling at his features. Then he mirrors your actions, his hand raising to cup your cheek, "What is this? What's happening?"

You snort, offering him a small smile before you drop your hand from his cheek, "It's nothing, Shea. Doesn't mean anything. But at least now you know your issue isn't physical. It's all in your head."

Colin frowns when you start to pull back, the hand cupping your cheek suddenly sliding back to curl around your neck, "Wait! Wait, stop, don't move.."

He pulls you closer to him, slowly, your lips parting as you look into his eyes intensely. He inches you closer until your breaths are practically mixing, his gaze never faltering.

"Col," you whisper, your heart beating rapidly, "What are you doing?"

He doesn't reply, instead, his eyes bounce between yours nervously before he leans the rest of the way. He moves in, slowly, and then he releases an unsteady breath when his soft lips slot over yours.

Your eyes close on instinct, your body practically melting into him at the delicate touch. He holds you to him, his grip on you never wavering, and it makes you rest your hand on his thigh to steady yourself.

He hums quietly as his lips move over yours, slowly, exploring the feel of them, and you mirror his movement, kissing him back carefully.

You can feel practical fireworks swirling inside you, your mind swimming at how soft his lips feel, how fucking fantastic it feels to dig your teeth into that plump bottom lip of his.

He groans quietly at the action, his other hand lifting to cup your face, tilting your head to kiss you deeper.

But then, when his tongue swipes at the seam of your lips, it snaps you out of it.

You pull back immediately, eyes widening as they meet his, "What-"

"Come back," he whispers, his eyes wild as they meet yours, "Don't pull away, please. Kiss me again."

"Col, I don't know if-"

"Please," he says, his eyes pleading, "It felt so good."

You smile softly, leaning into his touch when his thumb strokes your cheek, "Yeah, it did. But we can't do this, Colin."

"Why not?" He asks, almost needily.

You let out a small sigh, your eyes dropping to your hand on his thigh, "Because I won't just be another notch on your belt. I can't do that, we can't do that. You're my best friend. I don't want to just be a fuck, if we did that it would ruin everything."

"No, you don't know that, maybe-"

"I wouldn't be able to do it," you reply as you look back up at him, "If we crossed that line, I wouldn't be able to go back. I can't do that and still be your friend, still watch you hook up with every girl you meet. It would be too painful."

Colin stays quiet for a moment, those baby blues almost haunting as he holds your gaze. But then his hands drop, releasing you from his hold, and it's like your heart shatters into a million pieces.

"You're right," he mumbles, looking away from you, "You're right, it wouldn't be okay. It would be bad."

You try to hide the hurt inside, forcing on a brave face as you reply, "Yeah, it would be."

"I'm sorry," Colin says, glancing back at you before he gets up from the couch, "I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't even have come here. I should go."

And then, before you can even manage to object, he's stormed out of your apartment, leaving you sitting on your couch, feeling even more lost than before.

When your door opens suddenly at 8 am two days later, it makes your blood run cold.

You almost cower in the kitchen, your eyes glued to the inside of your fridge, body tensing when the front door slams and you hear footsteps getting closer.

Guess it's back to normal, then.

And normal means he hooked up last night.

You take a moment to calm yourself before you mumble out, "Morning."

"Morning!" Colin says cheerfully as he walks closer, dropping something on the kitchen counter behind you.

You pick up the jug of juice in your fridge door, not looking at him as you turn to bring out a glass from the cupboard, "You're chipper this morning."

"Yeah," Colin replies, watching you pour juice into your glass, and you don't miss the happy tone of his voice.

Guess his problem got fixed.

You open another cupboard, reaching to pull out the bag of bagels hiding inside, when Colin's voice stops you, "No need, I got us breakfast."

That makes your brows furrow.

You glance at him over your shoulder, surprised to see he's actually dressed at 8 am, wearing a graphic tee and a pair of jeans, as well as his blue converse.

You tilt your head, smiling in amusement, "What?"

Colin lifts the bag off the counter, jutting his chin toward the couch, "C'mon, let's watch something. I got us fresh bagels. Bring the cream cheese."

You watch in utter confusion as he walks over to the couch and plops down on it, placing the bag of bagels on the coffee table. You remain a little sceptical as you bring out plates, a knife, and the cream cheese from your fridge, before you follow him.

You sit down next to him, frowning in confusion as you move to sit criss-crossed on the couch, leaning against the arm of it.

Colin just smiles as he pulls two bagels out of the bag, even preparing each of them with cream cheese before handing one to you.

You take it hesitantly, eyeing him carefully as he leans back on the couch and takes a bite, picking up your remote to turn on the TV.

As you watch him casually take a bite of his bagel, you finally ask, "Colin, what's going on?"

"Breakfast," he replies with his mouth full, eyes locked on your TV screen.

"Yeah, I got that," you chuckle, looking at him incredulously, "But, why?"

"Wanted to prove it to you," he says after he swallows his bite, finally turning his head to look at you.

"Prove what to me?" You ask curiously, watching the wide grin slowly spreading on his face.

"That it's different," he replies as he looks at you, "That you're different."

[discountdemonwarehouse]

Relaxation Toys Pt. 2

This was supposed to be a one off, but here we are with a continuation!

F! implied Reader X Papa of Choice. ~4100 words.

Story under the cut because NSFW smut. MDNI. AO3 Link Contains: Light bondage/light Dom/sub, PIV sex, vaginal fingering, sex toys, restraints, belt spanking, cock warming, predicament bondage, biting, aftercare

        You’d slept in, relishing the time alone away from The Ministry, Papa’s phone on the do not disturb setting as of supper the night before to give you even more time as just the two of you. But of course, one number always made it through. Papa groaned, his lips leaving your neck and pulling his hands off you before he rolled to reach for the phone. “Non posso nemmeno avere ventiquattr'ore…” He grumbled before answering, “Ciao, Sister.” You slid from under the covers, deciding to start his morning coffee. Reaching for your sleep shirt, you caught movement from the corner of your eye. Papa shook a finger at you when you looked at him, mouthing the word “naked” as he listened to the person on the phone. You shrugged and headed from the loft to the kitchen. The coffee had finished brewing by the time he joined you, and you’d warmed up some pastries in the toaster oven. “Smells delicious, amore,” he praised as he took the cup of coffee you offered. “I can’t take the credit, the pastries came with us,” you smiled at him. You noticed that in addition to being dressed, the small stress creases in his forehead were back, and you slid your arms around him to snuggle close. A contented rumble sounded in his chest and his free hand slid around you in return, cupping your ass. “You take such good care of me, eh?” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Of course, Papa. Someone has to.” You nuzzled the base of his throat. “Was the call important?” “Sì, I must take a call in a little while. But I will be all yours after that.” “Promise?” “Lo prometto. I even made Sister promise to leave me alone for the rest of the weekend unless The Ministry was on fire.” His lips brushed the curve of your ear as he held you close. “I have a special task for you while my call though, puttanella.”

        Your role was simple – kneel under his desk and hold his cock with your mouth while he was on the phone. Stay quiet, keep your hands behind your back, and don’t move too much. There was a twist though, because why wouldn’t there be? A remote-control vibrator was nestled inside you against your G-spot, another part also pressed lightly up against your clit. The inserted portion buzzed lightly, just enough to tease. Your eyes drifted closed as you focused on staying still and the feelings in your pussy. How long would this phone call last? Papa had given you a cushion to kneel on before the call started, so it wasn’t too bad yet aside from the drool slipping from your mouth. Papa exclaimed loudly about something in the call, changing how he was sitting. His cock slid deeper in your mouth unexpectedly and you gagged a little in surprise, along with shifting your position. His hand came under the desk, holding you and repositioning you as he settled again, fingers stroking your cheek lightly before he withdrew his hand. A moment later the vibrations inside you amped up by a few stages. You clenched your eyes shut to hold back the gasp or moan that tried to leave you but swallowed reflexively. Another increase in the vibrations was Papa’s response. Exhaling hard out your nose, you did your best to focus on the task you’d been given. You were drooling more now and could feel his dick hardening a little more in your mouth. Mischievousness overtook you and you flexed your tongue under his cock, just flattening and rounding it a tiny bit. His member twitched in your mouth, and you heard his voice tighten, his hand appearing under the desk to grab your head warningly. If you didn’t have a cock in your mouth, you’d have smirked victoriously. Suddenly the toy ramped up even more and you couldn’t hold back the muffled wet gasp of surprised pleasure. Papa’s hand tightened on your hair, and you did your best to suppress the whimpers desperately trying to leave your mouth. The call continued, your eyes and mouth watering as you warmed his cock. Your ears perked as the call seemed to come to and end. “I think that takes care of everything for the next couple of days, yes? I am technically on vacation right now, so I’d like to not have more issues for a couple days. Wonderful. Addio.”

        Papa sighed as he finished up whatever he had been doing, and suddenly the clit stimulator part of the toy started fluttering against you. You couldn’t help the small moan now, caring less anyways since Papa was finished with his call. “Tsk, puttanella,” he chided. “Your reaction when I forgot myself can be forgiven, but you toyed with me while I was still on the phone and now, you’re making noises… A little reminder may be needed, hm?” The buzzing against your clit intensified, and you did your best to not let any noises escape you, only the telltale change in your breathing. Your eyes clenched shut as the sensations worked against you to try and draw out reactions, your hands balling into fists behind your back. “Up one more level, I think,” he murmured sadistically before the vibrations increased again. Your eyes opened wide, silently begging him as your orgasm started to build – not that he could see. One pathetic moan escaped you, the toy immediately shutting off. You whined petulantly, uncaring of any repercussions. Papa rolled his chair back, pulling himself from your mouth with a trail of saliva connecting you momentarily. You swallowed desperately and took a few deep breaths. “Go wait for me by the front door. No clothes,” he instructed, tucking himself back into his pants before standing and leaving the office area. “Yes, Papa,” you said obediently, crawling from under the desk and going towards the door. Waiting beside the door, your eyes fell on the small thermometer on the porch, it was cool, only about 5C (41F), and most of the morning’s frost had melted away except for the cooler areas untouched by the sun. Surely, he wasn’t going to keep you out there too long, not while you were naked. What did he have planned?

        Papa joined you soon enough, carrying a cup of coffee in one hand and the bag of toys in the other. He set the coffee and bag on the small entry table before turning to you. “Spread you legs,” he commanded, reaching for the toy inside you and smirking when his fingers touched you. “Always so wet when we play.” He slid the toy from you, and you pouted a little at the bereft feeling. “Don’t worry, puttanella, I have plans for you,” Papa reassured you as he put the toy away to be cleaned later, turning back to you holding the leather cuffs. You obediently held out your wrists and he fixed the cuffs on them before he turned to put on his coat. “Out on the porch, amore. Stand at the end without the swing.” He gestured you through the door, then followed you with his coffee and toy bag in hand. You went to the end of the porch as instructed, waiting for him as the cool air hit your body. He set his coffee and bag down by the swing, then came over to you. “Arms up,” Papa instructed. He clipped your cuffs together through the heavy eyebolt set into the wood above you for hanging plants, then walked back to sit on the swing to drink his coffee. You weren’t quite on tiptoe, but it was a bit of a stretch, heels off the ground. Watching Papa, you saw him looking at the scenery while lounging on the swing, legs crossed casually, one arm stretched along the back of the swing. He barely seemed to pay any attention to your plight as he drank his coffee. His eyes finally drifted to you, lips smirking behind the cup. “The scenery is beautiful, no?” His eyes left you again. “Perhaps we should do this more often. Maybe a week after the tour is over. It will be warmer then too – I could leave you out here longer. Though there might be mosquitos then.” Your eyes widened as his smirk deepened, but the idea of spending a whole week alone with him sounded amazing. “A week alone together would be nice,” you finally responded, trying to sound nonchalant as you stood there in the cold air, arms bound above you. He hummed in agreement, eyes locked on the splendor of nature beyond the chalet.

        Your nipples were rock hard, goosebumps spread across your body, your fingers and nose were cold. The wetness between your legs was also targeted by the cold and contributed to the goosebumps. “Papa, it’s cold out here,” you said imploringly, trying not to whine. “Sì, I can tell from your nipples.” His tone was casual, amused, and he barely glanced at you. “My hands are cold.” “Behave yourself and you can feel mine.” “Papa, I think my tits are going to freeze off.” He checked his watch. “It hasn’t been that long.” “Yes, Papa,” you said quietly, shifting a little and rubbing your thighs together subtly. He sat forward after a few minutes, picking up the bag as he stood. Walking towards you, he set the bag on the porch then skimmed his gloved hands along your body. “Maybe you need a little warming up,” he murmured, hands cupping your ass as his mouth latched onto one nipple. You sighed in pleasure as he licked and sucked, his mouth feeling so hot in contrast to the cold air and your cool skin. Soon enough you were moaning softly, feeling his teeth scraping and nipping before he pulled away to treat the other nipple the same. The wetness on your nipple mixed with the cold air to ensure it stayed puckered as he lavished attention on the other. This time you did whine as you implored to him. “Papa…” “Sì, mia piccola troia?” He murmured around your nipple as you squirmed, trying to grind yourself against his leg as he held you. “So needy for your Papa. Fine, fine.” He pulled away from your nipples and reached for your cuffs. “Keep your arms up, turn to face away from me.”

        Now facing out towards the woods with your arms still cuffed above you, you heard him step over to his bag and rummage inside it. He moved back to you, arms wrapping around you from behind, the wool of his coat warm but scratchy against your skin. A toy entered your field of vision, a decently sized dildo. “Does this remind you of our favourite ghoul?” he breathed against your ear. “We had it commissioned specially.” A shiver anticipation ran through you, and you nodded mutely. “Bene,” he placed a warm kiss on your neck before retreating from you. His gloves landed on the porch by your feet and suddenly his hand was between your legs, stroking you and preparing you for the toy. You gasped and moaned as his fingers worked their magic, your head falling back, eyes closed. He had at least two fingers inside you, stroking you and pressing on your G-spot to make you extra needy. Soon the toy was stroking along your folds before seeking entrance. Papa murmured encouragingly to you as he worked the toy into you, drawing a low moan from you at the stretch and fullness. It did indeed remind you of the favoured ghoul that sometimes joined you and Papa. You moaned loudly as the toy bottomed out, and Papa let you have a few moments in that feeling, peppering your skin with light kisses, before he started to thrust the toy in and out of you, getting you worked up. “Oh fuck… Papa, please…” You moaned again. “Fuck me with it, please…” A few more thrusts, then he stopped, seating the dildo firmly inside you. “Don’t let it fall out,” he warned, footsteps walking back towards the swing. You whined a little, hearing him pick up his coffee and taking a sip. Your body was hot now, deliciously stretched and full of the fake cock inside you. Your pussy tightened on it as you squirmed, trying to rub your thighs together with it inside you.

        You don’t know how much time passed, but you knew the weight of the toy combined with gravity was slowly pulling it from you. You squeezed your thighs together to make sure it didn’t fall out. Papa’s hands circled your chest from behind, fingers warm from the coffee cup. “You’re trying so hard,” he murmured, one hand sliding down to your crotch and circling your clit a few times before moving to the base of the toy and pushing it firmly back into place. His warm hands massaged your ass for a few moments to warm the skin up before he stepped away from you, the sound of his belt sliding through the loops meeting your ears. “Time for the last bit of your reminder before we go back inside. Five strikes.” “Yes, Papa,” you whispered softly. “I won’t go too hard, sì? Because you’ve been in the cold.” “Thank you, Papa.” “Bene.” The first strike across both cheeks caused you to gasp. “Uno,” he counted. You clenched against the strike, causing the toy inside you to hit the good spots, and you moaned. Papa chuckled, hand rubbing your ass before checking the toy was still seated how he wanted it. He stepped away and a moment later the belt hit again. “Due.” Again you clenched on the toy and moaned softly. “No need to be quiet now, puttanella. It’s just me out here, no phones, no one around for miles, let me hear you. Tre.”

        You moaned louder as again you clenched on the toy, squirming from both the sting on your ass and the dildo rubbing inside your pussy. “Quattro.” Again, a loud gasping moan drawn from you. Papa’s hand caressed your ass, sliding down to the dildo to fuck you with it for a few thrusts until you were moaning for him. “Cinque.” The last strike was a little harder, crisscrossing the others. You yelped, the sound quickly becoming moaning as your walls grabbed the toy. Papa’s hand quickly squeezed your ass hard, the other starting to fuck you with the toy again. You were panting and moaning as Papa manhandled your tender ass as he worked the toy. “Papa! Please! Ohh, please…” You begged as he toyed with you. A few more thrusts then he pulled the toy out of you, pulling a bit of a sob from you at the loss. Papa tossed it down before reaching up to undo the clips on the cuffs and rubbing your arms a little as he brought them to your sides. “Let’s get you inside and warmed up more for me.” “Too cold for your cock, Papa?” you teased playfully. He growled and ground himself against you, letting you feel his hardness. “No, amore, I just don’t want your tits to freeze off, as you put it earlier,” he smirked, ushering you towards the door. “Go sit by the fire while I bring things inside.” “Yes, Papa,” you scurried towards the door, giving a small yip as his fingers gave your ass a pinch on the way by. The warmth of the chalet engulfed you and you gave a satisfied sigh as it started to chase away the chill. You took a seat on the rug by the fire, leaning against the overstuffed ottoman. Papa had stoked it before his phone call, ensuring it would be easy to maintain for the rest of the day so you both could relax.

        Papa was moving around inside the chalet now, stowing things away and taking a few moments while you warmed up to clean the two toys you’d already used. “I am not done with you yet, puttanella,” he called from the kitchen. “I would certainly hope not, Papa,” you called back. He strode into the living area, carrying two mugs, one topped with a cookie. “Some of the spiced cider you put in the crock pot earlier.” “Mid-play aftercare?” you teased. “Of course. I have to take care of my toys, so they don’t break,” he smirked, sitting on the ottoman. You cupped the mug as you nibbled the cookie and leaned against Papa’s leg, head on his thigh, enjoying the heat while waiting for your drink to cool a little. His hand stroked your hair absently for a time before sliding down further, stroking your neck, collarbone and finally down to your nipple. You let out a soft hum of contentedness as he fondled you, leaning into him more and shifting so he had better access while you sipped your drink. A few moments later he stopped, setting his mug down and taking yours to do the same. “On your back, knees up, hands at your sides.” You did as he requested, watching as he moved to the toy bag. He returned with the matching ankle cuffs, quickly buckling them around your ankles and clipping them to your wrists. His hand went into the bag again, returning with one of your remote vibrating egg toys.

        He popped it in with ease and rubbed your mons gently as he smirked at you. “Time for another task. I don’t think I got to fully enjoy the remote-control toy earlier, puttanella, but I’m using this one instead because I want access to your clit. Your task – I hope you’ve been doing your yoga – is to hold a bridge pose as best you can while I enjoy playing with you.” Your eyes widened a little at the task. Bridge pose didn’t look hard from the outside, but it could be difficult to hold properly, especially for a length of time. Papa laughed a little seeing your thoughts in your eyes. “I believe in you, puttanella. Besides, I’ll be here to provide incentive.” He clicked on the vibrator and gestured for you to lift your hips into position. “If you fall below an acceptable height or move too much, you’ll get a slap.” He demonstrated with a light slap to the inside of your thigh before his hand rubbed over your pussy again. “I smack this too, so you’d better be careful.” You groaned a little at his plans, and pouted at him, getting a deep smirk in return as he turned up the vibrator. His fingers found your clit, teasing it before sliding down to your entrance and teasing there. He kept up his slow torture, your legs shaking a little from the exertion of the position and how Papa touched you. Your hips dipped and his hand quickly left your pussy to slap your thigh. You whimpered in protest, pushing your hips back up. This pattern continued, Papa teasing you, bringing you to the brink, then slapping your thigh or pussy when you moved too much or dropped too low. The most recent slap to your pussy made you cry out in frustrated lust, wanting to cum and being on the verge of overstimulation. “Papa, please!” you begged, voice ragged. In response he turned up the vibrator and leaned forward, saying, “Cum then!” in a commanding tone before his lips suctioned over your clit. You ground against his face, gasping in pleasure until a moan ripped from your lips as you came, body shaking.

         Papa’s hands supported your hips as you sagged after your orgasm, his mouth still devouring your pussy and juices as you shook in post-orgasm bliss. As your breathing returned to normal, he lowered you to the floor, undoing the cuffs and helping you relax before turning off the vibrator. “How are you feeling?” he murmured softly, tugging the vibrator out of you before undoing the cuffs from your arms and legs. You nodded, “I’m all right. I’ll be sore later though.” He hummed smugly in agreement. “That means I’m doing my job right.” “You’re so mean,” you teased quietly. Papa gave you a light, playful pinch on the thigh. “We’re not done yet.” “Oh, you wanted an orgasm too?” “Careful, amore, I keep track of these bratty moments for later, you know,” Papa taunted. You stuck your tongue out playfully, and accepted his hand to help you sit up. “Come here,” he directed you to straddle his lap as he sat on the ottoman. “Papa, your pants are going to get messy,” you teased softly, tasting yourself on his lips as he kissed you. “Let them.” He kissed you again, hands sliding down your body to undo his pants, freeing his swollen cock. Your hand drifted down to stroke him, loving the feel of him in your grasp. You teased him for a little while, stroking his shaft, squeezing lightly, hand sliding down to cup his balls before sliding back up.

        He let you tease him for a decent length of time before his hand covered yours and moved it away. “Enough, puttanella, I want your cunt now,” he growled, hands lifting your hips and lining himself up with you. He thrust into you firmly, and you groaned at the feel and stretch of him. You rode him, his hands on your hips directing you as he thrust up into you. His mouth kissed, sucked, and nibbled your neck and shoulders, occasionally finding your lower lip with his teeth as he kissed you. Both of you were breathing heavily, hungry for each other as you clung to one another. Papa angled himself to drag across the delicious spot inside of you. “Play with yourself for me while I fuck you,” he ground out as he thrust. Your hand found your clit, stroking and rubbing it perfectly as he slid in and out of your cunt. The noises coming from both of you echoed in the chalet’s wood interior, Papa’s grunts and groans becoming more guttural as he got closer. His fingers tangled in your hair, pulling your head back so he could ravage your throat with his lips, his other hand splayed across the back of your hips, pushing you towards him. “Cum for me, mia amata troia!” He rumbled in your ear, thrusting harder into you, dragging perfectly within you. Your fingers rubbed your clit just right in time with his thrusts, tipping you over the edge, clenching on his cock as you came. Papa thrust even harder in you, growling as he slammed into you again, cock kicking in your cunt as he came. His teeth sank into the crook of your neck, his hips thrusting firmly again now as if to fuck his cum into you while your body milk it from him.

        You clung to each other, breathing heavily as your trembling, sweaty bodies pressed together. The fire crackling was the only other sound in the room. Both of you had wandering hands as you soothed each other intimately, pressed feather-light kisses wherever you could reach. “Ti amo, lo farò sempre,” he murmured in your ear, stroking your hair. “I love you too, Papa,” you whispered back, kissing his jaw. “When I regain the ability to move, I’ll fetch us some sandwiches from the fridge,” he nuzzled your neck. You made a contented noise, staying still on his lap, enjoying the post-coital haze and closeness with your beloved Papa. “Okay, amore, let’s get you settled on the couch and I’ll get the food.” He kissed your temple, helping you move to the couch and wrapping you in a blanket. He handed you your mug of cider, “Drink up. You need to hydrate.” You snuggled into the blanket, dutifully drinking your cider as he retrieved sandwiches, a container of prepared fruit, and bottled water. Papa settled beside you, pulling you against him and rearranging the blanket over both of you. Eating your sandwiches and fruit in companionable silence, you laid your head on his chest and listened to its rhythm, the hair tickling your cheek. “Are you going to fall asleep, tesoro?” “Mm, maybe,” you smiled lazily against his skin. He stretched a little, feet propped on the ottoman you’d just fucked on, adjusting his arms around you. “I don’t want to miss any time with you, but a nap may be a good idea. Just a little rest, then we’ll spend some time in the hot tub, sì? Watch the sunset, help ease your tired muscles before I ravage you again. And we must have supper at some point then too. Probably some more ravaging… Does that sound good to you?” “Mhm,” you responded, eyes closing as you snuggled closer to him. “Sounds delightful.” Papa’s chest shook a little as he laughed, drowsily replying, “Sleep well, amore.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Italian:

Non posso nemmeno avere ventiquattr'ore – I can’t even have twenty-four hours Amore – love Lo prometto – I promise Puttanella - little slut/little whore (affectionately) Addio – goodbye Sì, mia piccola troia – yes, my little slut? Bene – good Uno. Due. Tre. Quattro. Cinque – One. Two. Three. Four. Five. mia amata troia – my beloved slut Ti amo, lo farò sempre – I love you, I always will. Tesoro – sweetheart/darling/honey

[mxnson13]

eddie munson x fem!reader smut

this started out as one thing and then my brain said ooops

the second eddie saw you in those knees highs, tight black shorts and, most importantly, his hellfire tee he couldn’t keep his hands off of you.

you yelped as he spun you around and grabbed your thick thigh, giving it a squeeze.

“good morning to you too.” you laugh as he lifts you into the kitchen counter. he licks into your mouth tantalizingly before pulling back. you pout at his smirk.

“i told you what it does to me when you wear my shirt.” eddie’s beautiful brown eyes are dark, his smirk boarding on sinister.

“hmm,” you hum, pretending to think about it. “i guess you’ll have to remind me.”

he huffs a laugh in amusement. his hands snake up his shirt on your body, cupping your breasts. you move to take the shirt off and he stops you.

“leave it on.” he demands. his fingers tiptoe down your sides making you shiver. he pushes his hands inside your shorts, pulling them off with minimal effort.

“eddie,” you protest, your bare ass sitting on the counter. “we make food here.”

“we eat here too.” he laughed maniacally spreading your legs apart.

you open your mouth to protest again but his mouth goes straight for your clit so you just moan instead. you could sanitize later.

eddie ate pussy like he did everything else, with theatrics. he sucked, licked, hummed, and moaned into your pussy. his fingers dug into your thighs to keep you planted on the counter, you were definitely going to have bruises.

your hands tangled in his long hair, pulling to make him moan a little louder. you watched him concentrate, eyes wild, face shiny. he looked as wrecked as you felt as you came down his chin.

you pull him back up to kiss him, lips sliding messily. you can taste yourself on him and it makes your core spasm.

“do you want me to fuck you on the counter?” eddie asked, pushing his clothed hard on against your naked pussy. you groaned at the rough friction, triggering him to do it again, and again.

“yes, fuck, anywhere,” you pleaded trying to push his boxers off. “you’re the fucking worst.”

eddie laughed loudly as he stripped out his boxers. “love you too, babe.”

“love you, whatever,” you couldn’t help but giggle a little too. “please just get inside of me.”

“jesus,” he moans. “how can i say no to that?”

“you’re so wet.” he pants as he slides inside of you. “you’re so fucking perfect.”

you’re stretching around him, feeling like your molding to his cock. like you’re fucking meant to be. you blush from his praise. he’s the only one whose ever made you feel like this before.

his mouth is back on yours like he needs your air to breath. it feels like a cheesy romance novel or a pop love ballad. it was fucking perfect even with the toaster right behind you.

you can always tell when he’s close. his rhythm picks up and he can never stop rambling.

“you’re so beautiful,” he grunts, hips snapping quickly. “so fucking perfect, like a goddamned goddess.”

“eddie,” you whine, feeling your second orgasm building. “baby, please,”

“your pussy is perfect.”

“your pussy.” it slips out before you could stop yourself. your face heats up in embarrassment.

“fuck!” eddie yells, finger nails digging into your hips. “say that a-again.”

you pant for a moment, working up the breath and the courage. “it’s your pussy.”

he cums with another yell. his forehead rests against yours as you both catch your breath.

“you’re fucking perfect.” he mutters again and you laugh loudly in response.

“so you’ve said.” he pulls out and lets you down off the counter with wobbly legs. you stand in the kitchen for awhile just wrapped in each other’s embrace.

“you know,” you break the silence with a giggle. “you could always make me my own hellfire shirt.”

he chuckles, putting your hair softly. “where’s the fun in that?”

[chris-continues]

XYX x Reader x Naked Toaster

Headcanons:

-I would imagine you were with Toast first in the server, before you guys would get eachothers numbers

-XYX, being toast’s good friend, would also get his number

-a few months go by, you would live with Toast (just a bit past his good end)

-you finally get better at FFXIV, and start doing raids with toast

-they buy you a nice setup

-you then raid as a group w toast and XYX after XYX acknowledges that toast hasn’t been raiding with him as much as they used to

-in chat:

You: call??? Hard to understand what you wanna do, and I get too lazy to bother typing lmao

Toast: you know he doesn’t do calls

XYX: no, no, I shall gift you my divine face for all of the reward of… compliments, you losers

(You guys call, it’s chill)

-joked about him being like a 12 year old little shit of a gremlin

After a few months, toasty’s busy with work and you feel like raiding

There are a few occasions where you guys have one on one w XYX, and with eachother, or have one on one alone, etc.

It’s definitely a slow burn with you guys, and nobody wants to jump into a complex relationship.

After a few MORE months of you guys and building tension, XYX just types out a confession before cancelling a raid

He distances himself away from you guys and as worried as toasty and you were, you both admitted to liking XYX.

You both are nervous, but privately message him in the juicy gamers chat.

He ignores it, (well he reads it later, doesn’t respond)

It takes him a bit to process, but a few days (to maybe even a week later) before he’s like:

I’m cool with it

You guys just decide to experimentally chat, maybe with pet names here and there, more direct flirting.

(Not like you’ve been teaming up with XYX to fluster toaster… not at all)

Some calls end up with you on camera w toast in their lap and chatting with XYX about the most random things.

Sometimes playing the untitled goose game, maybe more raids, eventually you guys even napped together on call.

One of you (can’t decide who) broke the silence again and decided: hey, I’m ready for a relationship with you guys.

Again, with flustered communication and more flirting, you’re in a long distance relationship with XYX!

(He does seem really hesitant, but you and toast reassure him that he doesn’t have to join, and that you’ll all still be friends)

He makes trolling kahoots about himself for you guys to learn more about him

You guys all chat and eventually XYX visits you guys a few times, before you talk about moving in together.

And while your relationship is slow it’s what you all need.

You each have your own past issues with relationships, and you respect that and make your relationship as respecting as can be.