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tojisbbygworl · 10 months

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He’s Not Actually That Cool - Hobie Brown x Black!Reader

Based off of this post

Part 2 bonus bonus ii

Masterlist

Imagine Hobie, the undeniably coolest person in the Spider Society, is a virgin nerd with a big dick

Tags: Hobie is a pathetic virgin loser, 18+, a lil smut, Oral (m receiving)

"How are you even cooler under your mask?"

"I was this cool the whole time."

A scoff behind the both of them. It's you shaking your head in your mask.

Hobie smirks at you. "Something funny there, love?" You don't say anything, just pretending you don't hear him and looking away innocently.

Hobie was the reason you were a part of the Spider Society. He and Miguel had captured the anomaly in your own universe with your help, of course. You knew Hobie had immediately took a liking to you what with the way he stared at you through his mask when he first laid eyes on you, frozen in place, color palette pink.

You liked him the moment he ripped his mask off when it was all said and done. He looked real good with his wicks, his sharp facial structure, wide-set nose and even larger lips. You actually believed him when he said he was briefly a runway model, emphasis on the briefly.

He invited you to join them and pulled you into the portal before Miguel could even say anything. You two have been inseparable ever since.

As you met more people, they all told you of their opinion of the man who seemed to be your best friend. Everyone says the same thing, that he's effortlessly cool and it makes him a little obnoxious. It always made you tilt your head.

You've seen the anime action figures in his room ranging anywhere from Naruto to Tokyo Ghoul.

"Oi, don't touch my things. You're the only person I trust to let in here, don't ruin it."

He's talked your ear off about the intricate lore of FNAF (he HATES MatPat btw)

You've groaned at how many times you've heard the name 'Afton' leave his mouth.

"So the place shut down again after the victim lost their entire frontal lobe"

"And that's the bite of '83, right?"

"No, that's the bite of '87. Thought I told you about '83?"

He probably did but he talked about it so damn much that you forgot. "It's cool, I'll tell you. So the bite of '83..."

This man is a fucking nerd but the BIGGEST misconception everyone has is that he's probably great at sex.

He has a reputation of "running through" everyone who wants him at the society...and yet no one has actually done anything with him. Everyone whispers about it, but no one has ever come out and admitted to having sex with him.

He's without a doubt your closest friend, so you asked him about it while you were chilling at his, watching him strum his guitar.

"So I heard you been running through the Spider Society like a tomb raider."

He cackled, "Yeah, that's what they all believe, innit?"

"It's not true?"

He shook his head. "I haven't got bottle, luv. Don't know what the bloody hell I'm doing."

"Oh really?"

He stopped strumming to look up at you, his smirk falling upon seeing your sultry and mischievous face. He grew a bit nervous, but was more excited if anything.

"What's that look about?"

"Would you like someone to teach you?"

He dropped his pick from how badly he was shaking. Hobie gulped and slowly nodded his head. You walked over to him and slowly lifted his guitar off his body, then pushing him back into the couch and sitting on top of him.

That's how this current make-out session started with you doing most of the work, taking off yours and his clothes feverously.

Hobie just sat back and let you do whatever you wanted. He especially loved watching you strip down to your underwear, blood shooting to his dick as soon as he watched your breasts bounce out of your shirt. He watched you pull your panties off of you leaving you completely naked and him only in his boxers.

He shifted in the couch to relieve some tension. You giggled at his starstruck face.

"You good?" You asked him. He nodded. "Do you need me to pull it out for you?" He nodded again.

You laughed, but was quickly shut up by his long, curved shaft slapping back onto his stomach. His underwear did him no justice, nothing could have prepared you for this.

He shyly looked away and bit his lip, not wanting to admit that he liked the way you gazed at it. It fueled his ego, but he didn't know how to tell you without stuttering.

He was actually shaking pretty bad, and it worried you. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah...I just..." he gulped and looked back down, his dick jumping upon looking into your eyes. Just like his, yours were a deep brown. Your eyes were furrowed in concern, and your full lips were parted. His breathing got deeper.

"You really want to have sex? With me?"

You deadpanned him, then leaned your head down to his base. Hobie gasped when you stuck your tongue out and licked all the way to his tips. Your played with it for a couple seconds, leaving him a shuddering mess. His precum leaked from it and you licked it all up reveling in the salty taste.

"O-oh..." he moaned when you grasped it gently and began to pump. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, so glad that he didn't have to imagine it was your hand beating his dick. He humped into it a little, and he looked so sexy crunching his abs that you couldn't help but to enclose your mouth over him.

"Oh, fuck," he exclaimed. He threw his head back up and gazed upon your form. You were giving him the sloppiest top he had ever seen, (he only watched BJ and missionary porn and you were much better than those girls)

God, he couldn't wait to get you under him and hump into you like's he's thought about for so long. He's used his hand, his pillow, he even looked up how to make his own flesh light because he would never be able to hide a real one from you. It was gross but fuck, how else was he supposed to get his rocks off? If he didn't do any of those things, he would have no control around you.

"Fuck, babe. Please keep going~" Hobie was drooling - actually drooling - out the side of his mouth. He panted and clenched his hands. You had to reach out and move them to your hair.

The poor thing panicked, he had no idea what you wanted him to do. He gently pet your small afro, more concerned that he was close to cumming down your throat.

You stopped and popped him out of your mouth, laughing a little at how cute he was.

You didn't notice how stressed he looked, him sitting up a little more in the chair. "Ngh, wait, no-" he whispered.

His dick bounces with each spray of his cum with him letting out a string of moans and curses as it lands on his stomach and chest. "Ffff...uh...uck..."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," you say, watching his fucked-out face. His head bounces with each deep breath he took.

"Why...did you...stop?" he asked in between pants.

"Why did you pat my head?" you asked, standing up, begrudgingly putting your clothes back on despite the ache between your legs.

"What was I supposed to do?" Hobie stares at your ass lustfully, feeling the blood rush back into his dick from how it moved.

"You were supposed to grab my hair and choke me with your dick, baby."

He gulps not being able to take his eyes off of you. "Oh."

You turned after putting your panties back on and froze. His dick was standing straight up again, the head glistening with thick white liquid. He stared at you embarrassingly, hoping that you would just come back over and kiss it.

"You could have said something before I started putting my shit back on."

"Sorry," he said, not being able to contain his excitement when you walked back over to him. His smile went away when you instead hovered yourself over his lap. His cum was still on his stomach and his dick. "W-Wait-"

"Yeah?" You whispered sensually, grabbing him again and pulling your panties to the side to line him up with you.

"I'm still-, I still have-, Is this okay?"

"I'm on the pill."

He starts getting nervous again, but he doesn't know why.

"You scared?" She asks.

He looks at her and rests his hand on her hip. "I don't want to hurt you. Or make you uncomfortable."

You giggled again. "I promise you I'll be fine."

"But, I still got my cum on me, babe."

"I know." You leans over to his ear and lick it. He shivers. "Isn't that so nasty?"

Hobie moaned as you begin to sink yourself onto him. You moan too, Hobie splitting you like you never imagined.

"You really want to shag a virgin?" He finally asked her, his voice wavering.

She rolled her eyes and sighed in frustration. "Virginity is a social construct. Don't be ashamed. Now shut the fuck up."

Definitely making a part 2 and a lil bonus and another bonus (ii)

Taglist is closed!

Masterlist

#across the spiderverse #hobie brown #spider punk #spider punk smut #hobie brown x black!reader #spider punk x reader #hobie brown x you #spider punk x black reader #spider punk x reader smut #black reader

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churipu · 3 months

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( OO1 ) ★ unwarranted assumptions , sukuna ryomen

featuring. sukuna ryomen x reader

warnings. cursing, college! au, sukuna and yuuji are twin brothers here lol, sukuna might be a lil ooc here (he's in love, he just doesn't know it pls spare him omg). // wc: 3.5k

ENTRY ( OO1 ) OF THE "INTO THE IPINVERSE" MILESTONE

"how do i know if i'm in love with someone?" "you want to kill everyone who gets near them." "oh, shit."

tag: @rrairey milov, ily for participating in this mwah mwah, @sad-darksoul, @sweeneyblue1 , @idkuluka, @colorful-happy-shit

sukuna and yuuji were quite the opposite. the only thing they share is their looks, and their love for basketball. that's about it. on one hand, we have itadori yuuji—the younger twin— who has a passion for basketball, is the campus' sunshine, and is always friendly to practically everyone.

on the other hand, we have sukuna ryomen—the older twin, just by twelve minutes— who also has a passion for basketball, is "considered" as one of the campus' scariest person, and is never friendly to everyone.

the two however, stuck to each other like glue. walking around campus with one another, like two peas in a pod, they did everything together. it's no longer an odd sight to see them both together — it is pretty weird if one is here, and the other is there.

despite their contrasts in personalities, the two were popular. being star athletes, constantly winning trophies for the campus, and climbing up in fame. hell, even people from different campus would drop by just to meet the two at times, it's funny.

"hey, great job on the match, yuuji."

then there was you. a friend of yuuji — the two of you met during the first semester, and have been good friends since then. however, you never really talked to sukuna. the only thing you both have exchanged were short greetings, and eye-contacts.

you had a cinch that the older twin doesn't particularly like you; but that was just your assumption. you didn't know the truth. this sole assumption was the only thing that made you cease contact with the male. in all honesty, you find him rather . . . well, intimidating. the aura he sets off was just, unsettling. so you just assumed that sukuna doesn't like you.

sukuna finds you rather, amusing. how you would only congratulate his younger brother, and not him as well despite him being next to his brother. how you would throw your gaze away the moment your eyes met his. how you would bow your head down a bit whenever you both exchanged greetings. he didn't understand why you were so intent on doing all that stuff, and so he assumed that you weren't fond of him.

the male wanted to question it, but really — it would be weird for him, and for you. so he never actually done it.

see? assumptions are such fucking party-poopers. i mean, if only the two of you had come to both of your senses and just talked instead of assuming things about one another, where you think sukuna hates you, and sukuna thinks you hated him.

"why do they do that?" sukuna finds himself asking his brother, yuuji. elbow nudging yuuji's arm lightly.

"i need names." yuuji replied back before averting his gaze to the side, watching his twin brother staring at something— or someone intently. yuuji looks over to what sukuna was so focused on, smirking lightly when he saw you in his own vision, "are y'talking about y/n?"

sukuna lightly grunted, leaning back onto the chair rest. his eyes finally ripping away from you, who was currently throwing laughs and giggles amongst your friend group.

"yeah, them. why'd they do that?" sukuna parrots.

"do what, exactly?" yuuji retorts back, leaning his cheek onto the palm of his hand, sighing out in triumph; trying to figure out where this conversation will go.

"avoid me, but not you." yuuji pops a small smile, lightly elbowing his brother's side, "what?"

"do y'like them?"

like? sukuna didn't like you. he just finds your attitude towards him amusing, and . . . maybe you confuse him a bit at the difference on how you treat yuuji and him. but sukuna would never say that to his brother, he'd never hear the end of it, he just knows it.

"like? psh, you've gotta be kidding me. i was just fucking curious about their behavior, you brat." he pushed yuuji away lightly before burying his face into his arms, heaving out a loud sigh.

yuuji chuckles, "brat? you're only twelve minutes older than i am," he sings out in a teasing manner.

sukuna swore he just finds you amusing. at first.

so why does it pisses him off that you ran to his brother's side after a match and handed him a bottle of energy drink, and not him. murmuring out strings of curses, he felt like an absolute buffoon, standing beside yuuji — drenched in sweat, using the hem of his jersey to wipe the dribbling sweat.

while yuuji had all the glory. getting a small cute, teddy bear motive handkerchief from you, an energy drink, and a congratu-fucking-lations.

"yeah — that buzzer beater was totally amazing, yuuji. congrats on winning again! not that i've ever doubt you or the rest," you complimented, and hearing 'the rest' coming out of your mouth, for some reason; pisses sukuna off even more.

the older twin swerved his shoes on the court's floor, letting his soles let out a screech as it rubbed against the shiny surface of the floor. earning both yours and yuuji's attention.

"y'alright?" yuuji asks, popping open the bottle cap of the energy drink from you. and the sight made sukuna ball his fists in annoyance — god, he didn't even know why he was feeling like such.

"yeah. 'm gonna head to change," sukuna mutters out, hesitantly turning away to leave.

and the moment he turns his body away, sukuna could hear the vivid voices of both you and yuuji exchanging goodbyes. and before he knew it, yuuji was walking alongside him, "are you really okay? you look like you need to let out a fuse."

sukuna answered with a soft hum, his eyes narrowing as he continued on walking to the locker room. still angry, frustrated, and annoyed all at once.

"y/n told me to tell you congrats, by the way."

sukuna peered over the locker's door and arched a brow, "why couldn't they tell me that themselves, hm?" yuuji chuckles, finding his brother's behavior funny; because when else was yuuji going to see sukuna act like this?

like a love struck puppy, who doesn't know they're in love.

"who knows?" yuuji shrugs, grabbing the hem of his jersey and ripping it off his body — breathing out loudly, using the handkerchief you gave him to dab the sweat on his face.

sukuna eyed his brother, squinting his eyes lightly before doing the same action, minus the handkerchief. while he was doing so, a thought passed his mind.

"how do i know if i'm in love with someone?" yuuji instantly knew who the person sukuna was talking about, but prompted to say nothing about it and just play along.

yuuji pretended to give the question a deep thought before eventually answering, "you want to kill everyone who gets near them."

sukuna stared at his brother for a short while, muttering out a subtle, "oh, shit."

the reaction was enough for yuuji to made his own conclusion, "you like y/n don't you? which explains why you're in such a shitty mood, since they only paid attention to me—"

"okay, shut the fuck up." sukuna blurted out, "so what if i fucking do, huh? it's not like they'd like me back anyways."

sukuna shuts the locker, the loud bang resounding in the almost empty locker room. yuuji broke out into a loud laugh, "there y'go, making assumptions here and there, it's not like you both have ever talked in a normal conversation before anyways. how do you know they don't like you?"

good point.

"what are you going to do without me?" yuuji sighs out exasperatedly, the younger twin approached his brother, sliding the partly (sweat) damp handkerchief into sukuna's grasp, "return this to them for me, and who knows — maybe you'll be able to make a more positive assumption or two after."

sukuna wondered why he was standing in front of you, his hand shoved out, in between his index finger and middle finger was the same handkerchief yuuji had told him to give back to you.

"the brat wants me to give this back to you." he grunted out, his voice deep and unfriendly.

you stood in front of him, blinking rapidly; not knowing of what to say, should you start off with a greeting? or just tell him thank you? or maybe congratulate him for the match?

and so you decided to do all three, in a random order.

"thank you for your win, congratulations, hi." oh, god. the moment he stared at you in plain confusion — or maybe despise, you just wanted to crawl under the ground and die right there and then.

". . . thanks." he slowly murmurs back, waiting for you to grab your small fabric from his fingers, but you never did, "are you gonna take this or what?"

sukuna wanted to punch himself on the face after you flinched at the tone of his voice, your fingers frantically ripping away the fabric from his touch, mumbling out apologies. he didn't mean for his voice to come out that harsh.

the male wasted no more time in turning his heels to walk away, noticing your tense form; instead of a more positive assumption, his assumption worsened from you hating him, to you hating and being scared of him.

". . . bye." he mutters out, walking away with long strides to go find yuuji.

and when he did, sukuna just wanted to use his younger brother as a punching bag. hell, he didn't know why he was so angry at yuuji, and himself. heavy on himself, though.

"woah, what's up with you?" yuuji pushes his brother away lightly, "how did it go? did you guys like . . . at least exchanged phone numbers or not?"

sukuna shook his head, "think they're scared of me." he mutters out, throwing his head back, stressed out.

"is that your assumption again?" sukuna didn't answer him, which confirmed the question. the younger one heaves out a loud sigh that attracted an odd look—more like a glare—from sukuna.

"i wan' to sock your face in so bad," he mutters out condescendingly, eyes boring into yuuji's face; which in a way intimidated the younger twin, of course.

with a nervous smile, yuuji raises both of his hands up in defense, "chill, 'm gonna give you their phone number, maybe y'should ask them out or something."

see, the thing is that sukuna hated texting— in a way, it's like leaving footprints everywhere. he hated all that stuff. call him old fashioned, but you know he has a pretty good point. so he refused blatantly, "no, jus' leave it to me, i'll think of something."

the gods are on his side.

"i guess, we're partners?" you asked him meekly, slipping into yuuji's empty seat since the younger one was away with his assigned partner on the other side of the lecture hall.

sukuna hums, not knowing what else to say. his eyes followed your figure as you dropped a binder on top of the table, though— one thing particularly caught his eyes. the strip of photo that was tucked beneath the binder's transparent cover, he recognized you, your two other friends, and yuuji.

why the hell was his brother there? the male had one of his eyes closed, and a toothy grin; showing off his pearly whites while his fingers are formed into a peace sign. his cheek leaning onto the side of your head.

indubitably silenced, you averted your gaze to his face slightly. seeing that his attention was on your binder, you awkwardly shifted the book away— and sukuna came into his senses, now looking onto the surface of the table.

"uh . . . should we get started then?" you proposed, and he gave out a subtle nod.

the passing half an hour was just plain awkward. awkward is an understatement, you wanted to just walk out on him— but that would be rude. plus, he's actually doing his share of work, and you did yours. only conversing when you both needed opinions on each other's results.

"so," sukuna started, breaking the silence that seemed like had been going on for like . . . forever.

"you like my brother?"

you slowly tilted your head to look at him, blinking your eyes feverishly, "what—? god, no. what? where did that even come from?" sukuna felt the knot in his stomach unknot, a little relieved to hear your answer.

"just askin', since you're both so close." he shrugs, not even sparing you a glance.

"you're assuming." you found yourself chuckling, "jus' because we're close, doesn't mean i like yuuji— i think of him more of a . . . brother figure," you informed sukuna.

"oh." he resounds, "since we're twins, y'think of me as a brother too or is that exclusive for my twin?" sukuna questions, his tone laced with mischief.

rolling your eyes, you answered him in the same joking manner, "exclusive for your twin, not like we ever talked before, y'know?" oh. right, that did shut sukuna up, his silence killing the conversation almost immediately.

his silence domineered over you. it was like he was planning to do something to you right this very moment, until your lecturer calls out that the session was finished (and how the project should be submitted next week during his session).

saved by the lecturer.

"uh . . . well, should we continue this next time then?" you asked him, packing your stationary.

"yeah, sure."

" . . . if you don't mind, can i have your number? for project purposes," jackpot. sukuna took the chance and nodded, using his pen to swiftly write his digits on your binder, "thanks, i'll text you later. bye, sukuna."

once you left his sight, yuuji pops in. grinning efficiently, "i saw that, this must be fate, i can just feel it."

"you believe in that shit? we're just gonna talk about the project." sukuna retorts back, packing his own belongings before swinging his bag strap over his shoulder.

"oh come on, you're smiling. at least your body's honest," yuuji teases, earning an up right smack to the back of his head, "if they ask where you should do the project — say our house."

absolutely not. sukuna thought.

yet here you were, sitting on the floor of his room, scribbling away on a piece of paper as he sat across from you — glancing up from his own paper from time to time, taking a swift look at your focused face before returning to his own.

sukuna couldn't focus at all. he wanted to, really. but he was alone with you in his room, this was a chance for him; to get to know you. he had so much to say, but he didn't know where to start.

yuuji, earlier in the day had even gone out to give him a list of questions to ask you so you both could have a better relationship. sukuna didn't think it was needed, since well, it is sukuna. why would he need a list for?

on the other side, you too, were dying to say something. but the permanent scowl on sukuna's face made you falter even before you could take a whiff of him.

a knock to sukuna's door was all it took for the both of you to stop scribbling, finally taking a good look of each other. and the door swung open, revealing yuuji with a white shirt and a yellow jacket on, he was holding a plate of what seemed to be chocolate chip cookies, "so— how's your project holding up?"

sukuna shrugs, "i guess, it's fine."

yuuji slid the plate on top of the wooden table, grinning lightly, "you guys getting along just fine?" he questions, squatting down.

you nodded, "we're okay."

okay? okay??? well, in a way you and sukuna are both fine. but sukuna didn't feel fine, "guess so."

the dopey smile you had on the moment yuuji entered his room made sukuna think that you didn't feel comfortable enough to be in the same room as he is, alone. and honestly, just the thought of it made his stomach churn in agony — because, why must it be his own brother that he's jealous of?

"well, i gotta go. dig in the cookies, g'luck on the project you guys," yuuji smacked sukuna's back harshly before trotting away to leave the room, mutely shutting the door.

you grabbed a piece of cookie, taking a crunchy bite out of it. marveling in delight.

"are you scared of me?"

sukuna needed to stop with the sudden questions that made your heart leap at least three miles away. widening your eyes a bit, you arched both of your brows, "wha . . . t?"

you stopped chewing altogether, eyeing the male across from you like he's crazy. i mean — if you were to be honest, you were partially intimidated by him and the aura he's giving out.

"i asked if you're scared of me," sukuna repeats, laying his pen down onto the table as he intertwined his fingers together, waiting for an answer.

you nodded, "truthfully, you're intimidating."

oh.

sukuna expected that answer, but why did it actually made his heart throb? as in — the person he likes is actually scared of him, and it broke a little part of him. however, he still has a scowl on his face and his expression unchanged.

"you have this big scowl every time i go around yuuji, and it intimidates me. so i just assumed that you hated me," sukuna blinked, brows furrowing slowly; the creases in between his brows deepening by the passing second.

"what? i assumed that you hated me." he replied, emphasizing on the 'me'. and this time you furrowed your brows, swallowing the bite of cookie you took before and wiping the crumbs off the corner of your lips in confusion.

"what? no, i don't. what? why would you even assume that?" you questioned him, now dropping your own pen onto the table, completely disregarding the project.

"why would i not? y'keep avoiding me like i'm a bad person, so i just assumed that you hated me." sukuna replies.

"i thought you hated me, because you look like you want to kill me every single time, so i just never talked to you, it was pretty scary." you retorted back, shaking your head, the cookie was now a decoration in between your fingers.

sukuna can't help but to chuckle, "so it was jus' our shitty assumptions?"

you hummed, "i guess so."

to say the least, sukuna felt like he was breathing again. yuuji was definitely right about all these assumption things — and he kept in mind that he'd praise the younger twin later (maybe). the sight of you eating a cookie in front of him made him feel a little overwhelmed, now that he got all the hard part done. he felt like he could talk with you now.

"then . . . can i get to know ya'?"

you narrowed your eyes at him, "really? no strings attached?" he raised both of his hands up in defense, shaking his head lightly, "why do you look like you want to kill me every single time then? are you plotting my murder? is this a trick?"

your questions made him pop out a light smirk, "so what if i am, huh?" he teased.

rolling your eyes, you shoved a hand out to him, "since we didn't start off in the right path, why don't we start over? i feel like this is the only appropriate way."

sukuna raised his hand up to engulf yours in his, feeling a light tingle in his chest as you squeezed his hand lightly, "i'm y/n l/n, just call me y/n. cool?"

the male scoffs, "cool. sukuna ryomen, it's only fair if you get to call me by my first name too, so . . . call me ryomen."

"ryo for short. that's your name now," sukuna arched a brow with an amused smile, nodding his head. internally doing a victory dance in his mind as he just got a nickname from you — and yuuji is just 'yuuji'.

a win for him today.

"you're a little smiley today, did something happen between y/n and you earlier?" yuuji asks, pressing the pause button on his controller to face his brother who was laying down on the couch, the corner of his lips tugged upwards.

"i'm ryo now."

"ryo as in ryomen? i mean — that's your name, so? what are you implying?" sukuna stared at yuuji with a lighthearted smile. yuuji is somehow smart to catch up with these kind of things that it sometimes baffles sukuna, "oh, i get it. so, now you both are on first name basis?"

not even first name basis. this is a nickname that they gave me. sukuna sings in his mind, breathing out in content.

"it's a nickname. they gave it to me," yuuji cooed loudly, tossing his controller aside, "y'know . . . i was assuming they didn't like me, and they assumed it was the other way. they assumed i hated them because apparently i looked like i wanted to kill them?"

yuuji pointed his finger accusingly, "see? i was right!"

sukuna rolled his eyes, "that's the first time y'have ever been right, don't get ahead of yourself."

"so — when are you planning to confess to them, hm?"

a light kick to yuuji's side was enough to send him toppling over the couch, whining out in pain, "we just became friends, and y'think i should confess? that can wait," sukuna mumbles out.

sukuna was just delighted that his assumptions were unwarranted.

#𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #fluff #jjk #jjk fluff #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #sukuna fluff #sukuna oneshot

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wonderwomanfantasy · 10 months

Note

okay but imagine a jealous Miguel who's been absolutely obsessed with you but was to scared to say anything. One day he comes over to your house to tell you how he feels about you but he notices you're wearing an old hoodie from your ex(who you obviously don't care about because you've been madly in love with mig) and he just goes feral and rips it off you, he says sm nasty possessive shit while he fucks you in full nelson✋ I'm sorry I've just had brain rot over this man and saw your asks abt him

oh baby I'm obsessed. this is nasty so it's going under the cut ^^

Miguel is 100% the type of guy who will refuse to admit he has feelings for you while everyone else knows. Yeah, he brings you coffee almost every morning, it is not to see you smile he just uh… made extra? He likes it when you rely on him, he likes being your hero even if he’s just buying you pads. He’s touchy too, when he passes behind you he puts his hand on your lower back even if he has plenty of room, or wraps his arm around your waist while the two of you are in a crowded place together so he doesn’t lose you. God speaking of crowded places if the two of you are ever in a loud place trying to talk he’ll lean in close so he can hear you speak and if his proximity makes you flustered, all the better.

Miguel knows deep in his heart that it’s wrong how jealous gets, and realistically if you two were just dating he’d be able to just chill the fuck out but since you aren’t he can’t help but worry that someone else will catch your eye while he’s busy working out how he feels for you and wondering if he’s selfish enough to pull you into his dangerous world like that. The realization that you’re already in too deep makes his stomach churn. Even if you’re not dating you’re easily the person he’s closest to, everyone in the multiverse knows about his weak spot for you… if there's danger you’re already in it, if he really loved you he wouldn’t just keep you at arm's length, he’d cut you out of his life completely.

It’s a surprise when Miguel stops by. You’ve told him a thousand times that your home is open to him anytime but he always at least calls beforehand. Not this time. You can tell right away that something is off, he doesn’t hug you when he comes in and he’s got this weird look on his face like something eating at him but he won’t say what's up.

Miguel really did come over with intentions to tell you that he can’t spend time with you anymore, that it was too risky and too painful… then he sees the goddamn hoodie you’re wearing. And he recognizes it. He knows in that moment that he isn’t going to leave you, he isn’t going to let you go and let some other man have you. You are his, in this universe and in every other.

“Is that your ex’s?” you’re a little tripped up by the suddenness of the question, and before you can answer it he’s looming over you, one of his clawed fingers hooked in the collar of the garment.

“Are you thinking about him again or what?” Miguel demands of you and really he doesn’t even care to hear the answer. “I could treat you better, why don’t you fill your pretty little head with thoughts of only me?” as if at that moment you could think of anything else. Not with his pretty eyes looking at you like that. Not with his big sharp fangs biting and ripping your clothes off of you. All you can think about is him.

You’ve never been scared of Miguel, not the way other people were, but at that moment when you see the hungry look in his eyes all you can think is “god he’s going to eat me alive” and it sends a shiver down your spine.

He carries you like you weigh nothing to him. And honestly, you’ve seen this man bench press a minivan, you probably don’t weigh anything to him. Miguel holds you in front of a mirror and makes you watch as he presses his big dick into you and uses your body like a fleshlight.

“See that? See how good you take me?” he whispers into your ear “You’re mine now, no one else gets to fuck you, no one else gets to hear the sweet noises you make, just me.” he says while bitting your neck

He has your legs over his arms and he really is just bouncing you up and down on his dick, he pushes your head down and makes you watch as he pushes into you for the first time before he pulls your head back to look at yourself in the mirror.

“Wanted to fuck you like this for so long, now that I’ve got you here I don’t think I’m ever going to stop,”

And he doesn’t stop. Not until a mix of his cum and yours is dripping down his thighs and your legs are twitching. When he finally pulls out he scolds you for not keeping his cum inside of you and pushes the mess back into you with his fingers.

He asks if you feel empty without him nine inches deep in you (you do) he asks if any other cock could ever make you feel full again (not likely) he asks if you’ll forgive him for being so rough with you, and if you’ll let him do it again.

#miguel o'hara #miguel x you #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara x reader #gender neutral reader #miguel x reader smut #miguel o’hara x reader

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fangirl-dot-com · 1 month

Text

Chapter 29 - Hydrate or Diedrate

this was a rollercoaster. so I wrote something for the Drive to Survive chapter before I even wrote this. So I based this off of what I already wrote and yeah, I got this. There is slight angst but nothing as extreme as I've done in the past!

Sorry for the wait! I love you all!

You hated it.

The floaty feeling.

The weightlessness that floating brought.

The feeling of lack of control.

Your legs wouldn’t move. Your arms were too heavy. Your head rested against the side of your car. Thoughts were muddles, sounds were far away. Your head felt as though it was stuffed with cotton.

You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t see because of the sweat that saturated the inside of your helmet.

You needed to get out. Get cooled off. Get your trophy.

But the more you stayed in the seat, the better you felt.

Oh, how sleep wanted to invade your mind.

Just let go – it seemed to tell you.

I’ll catch you – it promised.

Give in – it demanded.

Your eyelids blinked slowly as you tried to become just a bit aware of your surroundings.

Where were you again?

Oh, you were racing.

What position?

Second.

Where was Max?

Where was water?

Where was…

It was all fading pretty fast. The lights hurt your head. The heat just clung to your body. Your arms felt as though someone tied weights to your wrists. Weights to your legs.

There was suddenly pressure at your shoulder. Your body rocked back and forth, yet you had no strength to react further. The pressure deepened and you rocked harder.

Where were you again?

Oh, floating.

Sleeping.

Not breathing?

That wasn’t it. It couldn’t be it. You needed to breathe to live silly.

You knew that the noise around you got louder, but it was still so cloudy. Voices muddled together. You couldn’t tell where one voice started or where the other ended.

Just let me sleep.

So, that’s what you did.

You’d be all right.

Seems as though sleep won this time.

Lando and Oscar watched in horror as Max’s facial features were wrought and pinched in worry. Like you, they couldn’t tell where the yells and screams started or where they ended.

They hadn’t noticed at first. Too high strung on the race and race win to realize. They had smiles on their faces as Oscar won the race this year, as he had done the sprint last year. But this time it was a real race win.

They congratulated the team, each other, their families who came to watch. Their smiles bright under the lights of Qatar.

But the smiles dimmed as they watched Max strut up to your car.

It was only then that they realized that you weren’t even out. What had it been? 2 minutes? 5 minutes? It shouldn’t have taken you that long to take the steering wheel off and get out.

And then they watched Max rip his helmet off. They watched as he nudged your shoulder and your head weightlessly move side to side.

The horror came next when the Dutchman started screaming at the team. Men and women jumped the little barriers and came running with medical supplies. Lando’s eyes wept as they had to haul your body out of the car.

Oscar’s heart dropped when he realized that you weren’t moving. Right now, you were dead weight, just letting people finagle your body to how they saw fit. They watched as two men held you up by the arms, dragging you past everyone to hopefully somewhere you could be safe.

When they were able to see your face, it gave them a haunted look.

Your eyes were closed. Your mouth was hung open as your unconscious body tried to gulp in much needed air. They stepped forward, trying to see if their friend was ok. Yet, they were stopped by officials. Something about a podium?

Oh, they had been racing.

The race was over.

But you weren’t awake to see it.

It finally broke through to them that they were still in the middle of the paddock. They could only nod numbly to questions being asked. The podium was no different. Oscar felt nothing as his anthem played.

But how could he celebrate when you weren’t there.

When you were supposed to be a papaya sandwich between them.

When you were supposed to hold your trophy high.

When you were supposed to be awake…and not sleeping.

Max had followed the medical staff that was carefully hold you up as they walked. Both of his hands were full of helmet. He could feel the dampness of yours. It felt like someone had dunked it under the water before handing it to him.

It wasn’t supposed to be this wet.

Your physio had told him, told everyone, that you’d be much better than Singapore. That your diet finally brought your hydration levels up. That you were drinking proper amounts of water.

That you shouldn’t be unconscious at this point.

He watched as they propped you up. Something about getting blood to your heart. Max thought you should be lying down. Maybe then you’d look like you were really asleep. He knelt next to you when someone asked if he could hold you in that position. His knees would be sore, but it would be ok when you were ok. When your eyes were finally open.

He watched your face and your eyelids flicker.

Were you dreaming?

The paramedics were quick to get cooling towels around your neck and head. One stuck an IV stuck in your arm.

Ouch.

Max wasn’t expecting your body to jerk so violently. His blue eyes quickly met yours when they opened suddenly. His hands steered your head so that you kept looking at him. Your mouth was once again dropped open as you tried to get precious air into your lungs.

At the sight of your open eyes, more medics came over. They started to check your pupil dilation and then your blood pressure. Max could see that you were quickly becoming overwhelmed but his mouth stayed shut.

They knew more about passed out drivers than he did.

His heart rate skyrocketed once he saw your eyes start to flutter shut again. That’s when he knocked the hands away from your face and replaced them with his.

As your eyes fluttered, the sounds were still jumbled in your mind. You just wanted to go back to sleep where it was quiet. The noises got louder, but it didn’t help your head. Hands poked and prodded at you, and all you wanted them to do was leave you alone.

Yet, among the loud and the busy in your mind, you heard something soft. It was a voice. Kind, caring, quiet.

You knew that voice.

“Hey, you need to stay awake. Do not close your eyes.”

Why did Max want you to stay awake? He knew how much you liked to sleep. You whined rather loudly, which drew a choked laugh from his lips. Max hadn’t realized that Charles had been there for a while. He also kneeled near and kept you steady.

Charles knew a trick that worked with babies when they needed to steady their breathing.

Max watched on as the Ferrari driver gently blew on your face. He wanted to comment, but kept his mouth shot when your eyes fluttered again, but struggled to stay open. But this time, it looked like you wanted to stay awake.

Max kept talking to you.

Told you about the race.

“Kid, it was like you were flying.”

“Oscar still kept P1, but you totally passed Lando.”

“Keep your eyes open kid. You can sleep later. Let me tell you about how Charles pushed me off.”

You were finally conscious enough to understand what Max was saying. A squawk from Charles made you laugh a bit. Your lungs burned and protested, but you did it anyway.

Max rested his head against the wall when you were finally moving around and talking to the medics. They finally deemed you strong enough to get you into a chair instead of the floor. The Dutchman was quick to keep the towels around your head soaking with ice cold water. Your race suit had been completely stripped away. Your shoes and socks were off as well, leaving you in thin fireproofs. Max took a longer towel and put it over your lap.

A hand rested on Max’s shoulder, which caused him to look up. Christian stared back at him with a cold gaze. The blond knew what that meant. The Briton led Max a bit away so that he could talk to him in private.

Max wanted to question him, but it seems as though Christian already knew what he wanted to say.

“Next year we aren’t going to let you or Y/n drive if Qatar is back on the calendar.”

Max was somber as he mulled over the statement. It was actually a good idea.

He replied, “I of course was fine with that. We should get the other teams to do it as well.”

Christian nodded.

“We had five retirements during the race. It was Sargeant, Zhou, Albon, Gasly, and Russell.”

Max hadn’t known. He was too busy just trying to also stay conscious during the race. Yes, it was cooler than last year, but the cars seemed to get hotter as well. It was a fraction that couldn’t be balanced.

Christian sighed. “Lance also had to be helped out of the car. He was taken to medical as well. Severe dehydration.”

Max considered the protest. If everything went smoothly like this year, he could have already won the championship by now. He was still ahead of Charles. Abu Dhabi wouldn’t be a deciding factor. The Dutchman would have to finish in last place to lose. The margin was big enough. But, the race would be the deciding factor if you’d finish ahead of Charles in the championship. You’d have to win the race and get fastest lap. Charles would need to finish second with fastest lap to come out ahead of you.

While he was thinking, two flashes of papaya orange almost ran into him. His head swerved to follow the two drivers as they sank to their knees in front of you, where you were still looking pretty exhausted.

He said his goodbyes to Christian and walked over as well. Lando was latched rather tightly to your side as Oscar ran his hands over your face, double checking that you were still breathing. He hadn’t noticed that Arthur was now the one rewetting the towels on your body. Logan was sitting on the floor to your left.

He walked over and stood next to Charles. A smile made its way to his face at the sight of the younger drivers all taking care of you. His phone was buzzing like crazy. He pulled it out and made a face at all the missed text messages. The second grid group chat, one that not everyone was in, was blowing up.

He sent a quick message telling everyone that you were ok and that they were allowed to come to your hotel room if you wanted to.

Lewis said he was going to bring food with George. Daniel was on his way to get your room set up. The Aussie has seen heat exhaustion before and wanted to get the room cooling down before you even got there. Fernando messaged that he was going to get some cars ready to take them all back. He chose SUVs that had sufficient space for everyone.

Max thanked them before closing his phone.

When he saw your eyes flutter, his heart didn’t race. He knew that you had to be utterly exhausted by now.

He stepped toward your physio and one of the medics.

“Is she good to go?” he questioned, getting the attention of the two ladies.

Your physio nodded. “She’s good. Just keep her cool and hydrated. Water and juice are preferred. Also, let her eat substantial things to get her weight back up. I know she likes McDonalds after races some times.”

The lady smiled, remembering how many times you texted her asking if you could get chicken nuggets from your favorite fast food restaurant. After getting a list of things that they needed to do to make sure that you’d be just fine through the night, he walked back over to the group. Your eyes were very droopy as Lando talked to you about Quadrant’s latest drop of merchandise.

He clapped his hands lightly, making everyone look his way.

“Ok, so she is good to go. Fernando is waiting with the cars. Daniel went back to the room to cool it down and ask for extra pillows and blankets for anyone who wants to stay. Y/n you have to be monitored for the next 48 hours just in case. George is making Lewis buy chicken nuggets from McDonalds. And now we just have to get everything and head back.”

Max could be a group leader when he wanted to be.

Charles and Logan went back to your driver rooms to grab everything that you might need and or want. Lando and Oscar took it upon themselves to go around to the garages to let everyone know where they were going to be for the next couple of days.

Arthur stayed with you while you had your IV removed, him letting you almost break his hand as it left your arm. You looked a bit nauseated at the sight, which made Max stand next to your seat to steady you.

“Is it over?” you asked, voice hoarse from everything. Max thinks that’s the loudest you spoken since the race.

Arthur gave a quick kiss to your head. “All over Cheri. You ready to go?”

With a nod from you, the Monegasque crouched down to scoop you up. Your head rested against his chest as he and Max made the way to the car.

“Max, can you ask Lewis to get me a sweet tea as well?”

“On it kid.”

Well, Max had already made sure that Lewis would get your favorite drink as well, along with fries and every type of sauce you could ever want.

You hummed a thank you as you leaned your face against the cool window of the car. Fernando was in the front seat, classical music playing in the background. At that moment, you realized that your skin had goosebumps and you were shivering slightly. Your fire proofs were basically soaked and the air conditioning was cooling it down quickly.

“Thur, do you have a hoodie or pull over?”

The question made Max and Arthur raise an eyebrow. But the moment they saw you shaking like a leaf, they quickly looked for one. Logan pulled the passenger door open and sat in it.

“Logan do you have a pull over or something?” Max asked once he realized that he nor Arthur had anything to cover you up.

The American was silent as he leaned forward to dig through his back.

“Aha!”

Something fuzzy was put into your hands. Arthur noticed that your hands were still shaking and took the pullover from you. He immediately got it unraveled and put over your head, tugging down at the sides. A sigh escaped your lips as you relished in the warmth it brought.

“Thanks Lo.”

“No problem champ.”

Arthur snorted. “So American.”

Logan swerved around as Fernando started to pull away.

“Well, no offense to Max, but Y/n is definitely going to be world champion one day. It’s only a matter of time.”

Max shook his head. “No offense taken if we all think it.”

“Thanks guys,” you muttered, head back against the window, eyes closed and close to sleep. Your boyfriend poked your arm, making you give him an astronomical side eye. He rolled his eyes at your glare.

“You can sleep after you eat.”

A grumble escaped your stomach, making everyone in the car laugh.

“It wants chicken nuggets.”

“Chicken nuggets is what it’ll get niña,” Fernando said from the front. The drive to the hotel was not long at all. This time, Arthur carried the stuff and Max carried you. Although, you did complain that you could have walked, but he didn’t want to take any chances.

When the four of you got to your room, Daniel was ready with open arms to take you from Max. Daniel was always more cuddly anyway and you wanted to keep being warm. The room was pretty frigid but you liked the contrast of a cold room with a warm blanket.

Lewis and George were in the little kitchenette pulling food out from the iconic brown bags.

A shiver wracked your body which made you realize that you desperately needed to change.

“Arthur, can you grab my clothes from my suitcase? I want to change.”

As the dutiful boyfriend, Arthur grabbed a pair of sweats, one of his pullovers, and the undergarments that you needed. He took you from Daniel and brought you into the bathroom for some privacy. You used the sink to keep steady as you stood. The Monegasque had a sad smile as he watched you try to use your legs that were shaking even more.

You took one step and your knees collapsed. Thankfully, he was there to catch you. He cooed when you pouted once you were seated on the toilet. He was very respectful and kept his eyes on your face as he helped you change. You rolled your eyes.

“You’ve seen me naked before,” you spoke quietly, not wanting anyone to overhear.

This time, he rolled his eyes.

“Yes, but it was for something very different.”

You could hear the smirk in his statement.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Race wins are very rewarding.”

He gave you a quick kiss after he pulled the crewneck over your head. When the two of you finally emerged, the rest of the boys were already there and changed. Max and Charles were on the pullout eating what looked to be some burgers.

Lewis was stabbing a salad as he talked to Daniel and Fernando. Your eyes lit up at the sight of the 20 piece nugget that was sitting on the counter. With Arthur’s help, you were able to take very small steps to get your own food. Lando and Oscar watched from the side as you got your hands on the container. Arthur then helped you over to the couch and sat you next to Max. He went to go get drinks and sat down on the other side of you.

It was a Leclerc brother sandwich.

You took a sip of your drink and grabbed the remote.

“What are we watching.”

Oscar piped up. “Please not Cars 2. And a pout won’t work this time.”

“Certified Y/n-hater.”

The Aussie laughed, but continued to let you pick a movie.

You smirked as you selected one of your other favorites.

“Black. All important movies start with a black screen.”

“You did not choose Lego Batman.”

“I chose Lego Batman.”

mclaren has posted

mclaren congratulations to Oscar on his first win and to Lando for bringing in a 1-3! 🧡🐈

We are saddened to hear that Y/n L/n had to be transported to the on-site medical center tonight after severe heat exhaustion and could not make it to the podium. Thankfully, she is on the mend and will race in Abu Dhabi for the final Formula 1 race of the 2024 season.

liked by logansargeant, papaya_nation, oscAH, and 2,395,104 others

papaya_on_top OSCAR WIN - BUT Y/N I WAS CRYING

orange_bois i was so scared watching them haul her out of the car

y/n.89 can't get rid of me that easily 😤

landonorris dang it, thought I could get one more win in oscarpiastri don't listen to him, he was crying while he typed this landonorris YOU WERE TOO????

iamred_iamyellow oh gosh, I thought last year was bad

russellgeorge someone needs to get a protest started, this was too much

lanoscar proud of my boys, scared for everyone else

redbullracing has posted

redbullracing good P2 and P4 today 👊

Y/n L/n is currently recovering back at her hotel and will be monitored through the night. She has been cleared to race in Abu Dhabi if she continues to feel better. She was diagnosed with severe heat exhaustion that could have turned into a heat stroke if she wasn't treated immediately. Heatstroke is deadly if not treated immediately after the symptoms show up. We are thankful for Max, who alerted the team that something was wrong.

Because of this matter with our youngest driver, Red Bull Racing encourages the other teams to put in a protest of the Qatar Grand Prix. This year, five drivers had to retire due to health issues and two were hospitalized. Lance recovered quickly from severe dehydration. If the Qatar Grand Prix continues, our drivers will not race in 2025 at this circuit. Thank you.

liked by arthur_leclerc, y/n.89, maxverstappen1, lance_stroll, and 3,149,460 others

y/n.nation please, fans as well, start protesting and don't buy tickets for Qatar 2025. something is obviously wrong

formula_fan the cars are too hot for this circuit. they have no internal cooling and the drivers are so susceptible to the heat

y/n.89 thank you so much for taking care of me! I will be ready for Abu Dhabi!

redbullracing we missed seeing you on the podium 🥺 y/n.89 I'll be back!!

landonorris max is the man - what do we say?

charles_leclerc thank you max oscarpiastri is that how you thank the man that saved your future sister-in-law??? 🤨 charles_leclerc THANK YOU MAX 🥰😙🥹🫶 maxverstappen1 you're welcome Charles ☺️ charles_leclerc I will still punt you

rookie&co I'm thankful that Red Bull is taking the initiative about this

scuderiaferrari at ferrari, we put our drivers above everything else. we will be protesting along with Red Bull and whoever else and will not take part in the 2025 Qatar Grand Prix if it is still approved

williamsracing we will stand along with Red Bull and will not race at the 2025 Qatar Grand Prix if it continues mercedeamgf1 our drivers before the race, we stand as one. we will not partake in the 2025 Qatar Grand Prix mclaren after tonight, we see where priorities lie. we race as one. McLaren will not partake in the 2025 Qatar Grand Prix astonmartinf1 we race as one. we will be protesting the 2025 Qatar Grand Prix alpinef1team we will be joining the grid in the protest of the 2025 Qatar Grand Prix visacashapprb teams should never have to choose between a driver's health and a completed race. we will protest the 2025 Qatar Grand Prix haasf1team we will be participating in the Qatar 2025 protest for our drivers stakef1team our drivers will not be participating in the Qatar 2025 Grand Prix if it is held in the upcoming year

formula14ever the way that all the teams have gathered together after what happened with Y/n

wholesomef1 this comment section >>>>

seb&bees Sebastian would be so proud for all the teams and drivers standing up for this cause

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @fly-me-away @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen-ln4 @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @33-81 @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver @alessioayla @torchbearerkyle @leptitlu @awekbachira @shreks-sugar-daddy @v1naco @stan-josie @mellowarcadefun @badassturtle13 @beskardroids @callisposts @poppyalice2001 @juniper-july19 @lizzypiastri

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dotster001 · 8 months

Note

Can I request overblot crew + malmal (idk if he's gonna be the one who does it so) w a mc who has the uncontrollable impulse to just. Touch things they deem pretty/cute/whatever? Like malmals horns, leonas ears and tail, idias hair, jamils little coin things in his hair, vils crown, etc?

Or funnier, things they're supposed to not touch bc common sense? Like the boiling hot liquid in the alchemy cauldron, the fireplace, broken glass, basically anything someone would have to rip their hands away from lol

A/N: I did a mix of things. As someone who wants to put dungeons and dragons dice right into my mouth, I had a lot of fun with this one 😂 I want to put my hands in jamil and Azul's hair so bad 😭

CW: injury in Azul and Idia's parts, self inflicted, cause obviously 😂

3k follower masterlist

No one was allowed to touch the roses. Well, no one but you. You like to run your fingers on the petals, tracing any visible veins, touching paint spots, and booping him on the nose if the rose hasn't dried yet.

So sweet, so soft, so innocent. He only wished that…

"Fuck!"

No matter how many times he reminded you not to, you always poked the thorns.

"Y/N," he said sternly, "the entire point of thorns on roses is that they hurt. They are intended to protect the rose!"

"But if not for touch, why touch shaped?" You pouted.

"Sorry?"

You sighed, and stared at the rose with a sharp glare, before turning back to him with a mischievous grin.

"If I can't play with the roses, can I play with your scepter staff thing?"

He should have known. You'd been asking to "play with it" for weeks now. And every time he'd clutched it tighter, and taken a step back. He loved you! But he didn't trust whatever it was you wanted to do with his staff.

"Please, my rose?" You gently traced the collar of his dorm uniform, pressing your free hand to his chest and giving him the sweetest puppy dog eyes.

He sighed, and placed his scepter in your hand, and was given immediate whiplash as you started swinging it through the air like a baseball bat.

"What are you doing?!?"

"Fighting crime!"

He felt a ticklish feeling in his half awake state. Assuming it was a fly of some sort, he flicked his ears, and attempted to drift back off. But the ticklish feeling was insistent. He opened one eye to see you scratching his ears. He groaned. He should have known. This was a common occurrence.

"Oy, Herbivore!"

Your eyes widened, and flickered to his.

"Oh! You're awake!"

"Yeah, cause there's a fly buzzing by my ear."

You looked down at your hands then pulled them away.

"Oh, sorry."

You reached out to fiddle with one of his braids, your fingers doing what he could only describe as kneading the plaits.

He gripped your wrist, and pulled you down to his level, pressing you into his chest.

"If you're gonna mess with my hair, then, quid pro quo, you should expect there to be a price."

You nuzzled into his chest and nodded, your hand snaking back into his hair as he drifted off to your gentle fingers.

This was exactly why he had the Leech twins watch you. You always complained you didn't need a babysitter, but when left to your own devices…

"As your partner, I shouldn't have to sign a contract or pay a price for a healing potion!" You cried, clutching your burnt hand.

What had you done?

You'd touched a stove seconds after the burner was turned off.

Call it stupid curiosity.

"If there's no price, how can I ensure you won't keep making these decisions!" Azul cried, finishing the final touches of the contract he was writing.

"Decision implies I thought about it. I can't stress enough that there was no thought involved."

He glared at you, before pushing the contract over to you.

"Sign it, and I'll fix your hand."

"My hand hurts too much," you whined.

"Your non-dominant hand is the one you burned. Sign it."

You looked at the fine print before grimacing.

"This says I can't touch anything if it's an impulse touch. What about you?"

"What about me?"

"That means I can't just touch your hair anymore? I can't just come up and kiss you anymore?"

Azul groaned a massaged his temples.

"This is a punishment. You get those privileges back in two weeks. Sign the damn contract."

You intended to glare at him, but a wave of pain hit your hand and you quickly signed it in shaky script.

"There," he pulled out a potion and gently took your hand. "Hopefully you learn something."

"I probably won't," you muttered bitterly.

"I know," he lamented.

His heart couldn't handle it. Even asking you out had nearly sent him into the recesses of his hood for eternity.

But ever since then, whenever you got the chance, your hands were in his hair. Usually playing with the gold medallions in his hair. But if he happened to have worn his hair down that day….oh sevens.

You'd somehow snuck up on him, and snuck your way into his lap, cupping his face and running your hands through his hair.

You were technically looking at his face, but he knew you weren't actually seeing him. You were seeing his hair.

"Y/N," he muttered, feeling his face burn, "I have to finish this homework."

"Mhmm," you muttered, as dazed as if he'd charmed you.

"Y/N!" He whines, unable to stop himself from leaning into your touch, just a little.

"Mhmm," you hummed, before unexpectedly pressing his face to your chest to allow yourself more space to play with his long hair.

He thought about speaking up. But you couldn't see his increasingly flustered expression with his face pressed to your chest. And you were warm and comforting. And your hands in his hair didn't feel too bad. Maybe he could indulge. Just for a moment.

Crash

Vil groaned, and left the bathroom he'd been doing his makeup in, watching you stare at a shattered bottle. Was it potion, perfume, or lotion? Even you probably didn't know. You just saw a shiny, pretty bottle, and had to touch.

"I'll pay for it!" You shouted, eyes wide with fear.

He sighed, flicked his pen at the broom he'd bought not long after dating you, and watched as it magically swept up the pink shards and goop on the floor.

He then half heartedly glared at you, lazily pointing his pen in your direction.

"Don't touch another one."

You aggressively nodded, and he returned to the bathroom to finish his look.

Ten minutes later, he heard it.

Crash

He covered his mouth to hide his quiet laughter. He truly couldn't leave you alone for ten minutes. It was endearing truly. He heard the broom fall as you, he assumed, hastily moved to sweep it up, and he couldn't hold back anymore, allowing himself to release a full, joyous laugh.

"Hold that," Idia said excitedly as he passed you the scissors he'd just been using. His new game system was here! And he'd bundled it so that it came with Star Rogue 2, which had only just come out!

He slowly pulled it out of the box, holding his breath from excitement, and,

"Fuck!"

He turned to look at you, and your thumb was in your mouth.

"What's wrong?"

You pulled your thumb out, showing a cut on the finger pad.

"Ortho!" Idia called in a panic, holding your hand and staring at the cut. In his panic, he stuck your thumb in his own mouth.

"Ew, Idia," you said, face full of disgust at your boyfriend's spit on your hand.

Ortho came over before he could respond, and pulled your hand from Idia's mouth. He immediately got to work on the cut, seeming to have been aware of the problem immediately.

"How did you do this?" Idia asked, rocking back and forth to get rid of his nervous energy.

You looked up at Ortho, then back at Idia, then back to Ortho.

"I'm embarrassed to say it when Ortho is here. He'll just give me a speech."

"I only give speeches when you need them!" Ortho said defensively.

"Which is everytime," you muttered bitterly.

"Y/N, please, I'm scared. Tell me what happened!" Idia cried, beginning to pace as Ortho wrapped a bandage around your thumb.

You stared at the floor. "Well, you handed me the scissors, and I was curious how sharp they are, so…"

Idia groaned, and Ortho immediately began his speech about scissors.

Malleus knew he was tall, especially compared to humans. So he'd never thought much about how insistently stared up at him, eyes full of expectation.

It wasn't until he watched your cat creature's eyes do the same thing as he tied a shoelace, one day, that he realized that you wanted something. And it wasn't hard to figure out what it was.

"Are you looking at my horns? If you're so curious, you can touch them freely. But only if you are ready to see what will happen afterwards."

Little did he know that he had stumbled upon a rare breed of human, one that was unafraid of him, but to an unrealistic extent.

It was visible today, while you were on a walk together, and then you stopped walking. He paused to look back at you, but it was too late. You were climbing his body like a koala, all to reach his horns.

"If you simply asked me, I would let you touch them."

"So shiny! Must touch!"

He laughed lightly as you reached his horns, and heard you attempt to knock against them. They didn't have feeling, but he could guess from previous times this had happened that you were poking the points with a finger and running your hands up and down them.

He felt a pull on his head as your lower half lost its grip, and you helplessly dangled while holding his horns.

"Oh, my silly child of man," he laughed. "What am I going to do with you?" He flicked his pen and helped you float down, then turned to you. You were sitting in the grass and pouting.

"I wasn't done," you muttered.

He knelt in the grass with you, then lay his head on your lap, laughing again as you excitedly traced his horns, allowing himself to relax under your care.

#3k followers #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto #jamil viper x reader #jamil viper #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit #idia shroud x reader #idia shroud #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia

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obsessivevoidkitten · 6 months

Text

An Interesting Safari

Yandere Male Gnoll Pack x Gender Neutral Reader (CW: Violent and painful noncon, gangbang, face fucking, gagging and slight suffocation due to face fucking, dacryphilia, spitroasting, cum swallowing, scent marking, piss marking, reader gets their insides piss marked, musk, spit as lube, kidnapping, non-sexual bondage, gagged and bound reader, escape attempt, chasing, shocked reader, broken reader, general yandere behavior) Word Count: 1.7k (I hope you enjoy this Halloween meal I have prepared for you all.)

You had wanted to go for years to see all the animals of East Africa and finally you had managed to make it happen.

But then at one of the rest stops you had spent a bit too long in the restroom and the vehicle full of tourists had just up and left without you.

Now you were stranded in the savanna with this little bathroom stop being the only structure for miles. You were about to make a U-turn back into the restroom to just hide in until the next tour arrived, but you heard a cackling laugh.

Thinking that someone was there you turned around and called out.

“Hello, is someone there?”

No response. You turned back towards the door and were pulled back suddenly. You were quickly gagged and bound before a large bag was wrapped around your head.

It felt as if you had been slung over the shoulders of someone very strong as your captor began hauling you back home. Even through the sack on your head you could smell his strong scent.

All you could perceive was a demented cackle but after a while your abductor spoke. Apparently he wasn’t alone. They spoke with frightening alien voices that were high pitched to match the laughing.

“I can’t believe we found a mate so easily!”

“Yeah! Normally when we smell a good one the humans get in that contraption and drive off before we can catch up.”

What were they? They spoke as if they were not human at all.

Then a third voice spoke up.

“I found 'em, I get to mate first!”

Oh god, they were going to rape you. They’d probably rape you then kill you and dump your corpse for some animals to rip apart. You couldn’t stop the hot tears from streaming down your cheeks, running as if trying to escape the fate you were sure you were about to experience.

“Hey, it smells scared.”

“I like it, it’s kinda cute.”

The one that was holding you stroked your back in what was probably meant to be a soothing gesture, but its claws lightly grazed you and only brought forth more fear.

“Don’t worry, we will keep you safe and warm and fed, and all nice and full of dick. What more could a little mate want??”

As terrifying as that last part was, at least it didn’t sound as if they were going to kill you.

But that night as they removed the bag around your head and the gag from your mouth you almost wanted to be dead.

You were outside of a cave. Terrifying hyena-like visages stared down at you. Tall and intimidating, muscular bodies completely covered in fur. One was black furred, one red, and one tawny and spotted. They wore only tattered loincloths.

They had rounded ears, hungry eyes, sharp teeth and claws. Clearly apex predators.

Gnolls. You never imagined that monsters such as these prowled the savanna in real life.

You were too shocked to even scream so you just cried silently. One of them leaned down and stroked the tears off of your face.

“No need to be scared, even if it is cute~ We won’t leave you behind like your own kind did.”

They all began removing their loincloths revealing large and strikingly thick cocks on each of them. You screamed as best you could through your still present gag at the sight. You didn’t want that in you.

They surrounded you, undid your binds, and took your clothes off. You didn’t bother with struggling, too scared of what their claws and teeth could do to you if you rebelled.

Then they did something you did not expect. They each grabbed their cock, aimed at you, and began pissing. Your entire body was drenched in the foul liquid.

One of them chuckled at your obvious disgust.

“Sorry, gotta mark our territory.”

They took you into the cave, drenched and naked, and finally removed the gag from your mouth. You knew screaming would do nothing to help you since there was surely no help nearby, so you resorted to the only option you had left available to you. Begging.

They ignored you and only laughed.

“Do you think we are stupid? When else are we gonna find a nice mate all ready to be taken?”

“Yeah, you’re ours and you can’t do anything about it.”

The spotted one, the one that seemed to love your dismay and tears, licked your cheek and placed you on what passed as bedding for these beasts. You were on your back with your legs on his shoulders, pleading and crying the entire time.

He didn’t go in dry, thankfully. He opted instead to sniff at your enticing entrance, giving it a few tentative licks, before going feral and lapping at it like it was the best thing he had ever tasted. Thick gobs of drool drenching your hole, his tongue twirling circles in you and stretching you out a bit.

When he couldn’t hold himself back anymore he jammed his dick right into you, hilting himself to his large testicles in one hard plunge.

You screamed as loudly as you were able as despite the stretching and slippery drool his thick member still opened you up painfully. You were sure you’d rip something.

With your mouth open from yelling, the black furred one took the opportunity to ram his sweaty dick right down your throat. You were dizzy not just from lack of oxygen but from the scent of his cock.

You gagged helplessly as your throat bulged out with each thrust, and you were sure your abused hole was bleeding by now with how hard the spotted gnoll was pounding into you.

They began using you like a two way fleshlight, establishing a rhythm. The spotted gnoll would pull you towards him by your hips and slam you down on his prick before the black furred gnoll would pull you the other way and impale your face and throat on his.

All the while the red one jerked himself off while watching.

You could barely cling to consciousness as you were so thoroughly abused on both ends but finally they both pumped into you. You were forced to swallow mouthful after mouthful of musky gnoll seed at the same time that a massive load was being dumped into you from the other end.

They both finally pulled out and you thought that your ordeal was finally over. You gasped for breath, shaking as you sobbed.

But you were not allowed much time to recover, you had forgotten about the red gnoll. His cock was slightly smaller, and he was less brutal in wielding it, going slow enough for you to manage to feel some pleasure in this whole horrible ordeal.

Though that was almost worse. At least when you felt pain you didn’t feel the guilt that came with your body betraying you.

You felt immensely dirty and ashamed as you came.

They all cuddled you and cleaned up the cum as it leaked down your soft human thighs. Running their hands over you and licking you affectionately as you cried yourself to sleep.

For over a week after that, you were on autopilot. Broken and in despair. The gnolls didn’t care, they were sure you’d come around eventually. As long as they had you there they were happy. They cooked for you, cleaned you, reapplied their “scent mark”, and cuddled you and told you how happy you made them.

And every few days they’d breed you again. Though they were a bit gentler given your weak human constitution. Bakari, the spotted one, was always the most eager to stuff you full of his seed. Kito, the gentlest one forced himself into you less often but cuddled you and babied you constantly. And the black-furred Akida behaved in a way that fell in between the other two.

But no matter who did what to you, you barely reacted.

But one day, you were no longer catatonic. But you didn’t let them know that.

Instead you waited until they were all asleep together one night. You carefully extracted yourself from their grasp. And you ran. As fast as your legs could carry you.

You had no idea what direction you were heading or where anything was, probably why they had put the bag over you when bringing you here, but that did not slow you down in the least. You didn’t care where you ended up or what happened to you as long as you were far away from your abusers.

But even that was too much to hope for. You were sure you had managed to escape but then you heard the cackling. You knew right away that there was no escaping them now. It was close and from all directions.

Suddenly you were on all fours, pushed into the dirt from behind before being forced into a face down ass up position.

“I thought you had learned to be good!” That was the unmistakable voice of Bakari, the most violent of the three, “I guess we have to REALLY show you your place.”

“You were being such a good mate for us, so well behaved.” That was Kito. He almost sounded hurt. Like you had betrayed him.

Bakari ripped your clothes off, shredding them into confetti, before lining up his dick with your hole and driving it right into you with no prep or lubrication. This was far more painful than the first time he had taken you.

He fucked you right into the dirt, thrust after thrust, taking a sadistic pleasure from your tears and pained wailing.

It was by far the worst thing you had ever felt.

He finally emptied his nuts into you and bit your neck hard as he did so. Blood welling up where he had bitten you. It would certainly scar so you would never forget who owned you.

But even then his cruelty wasn’t at an end. He kept his cock in you as he began draining his bladder into your pained hole.

“Gotta mark your insides as property too since what we were doing before clearly wasn’t enough for you.”

It burned all the sores and tears he had created from railing you so hard.

And he was just the first… you would have to endure the other two doing the exact same things to you before finally being given a break and taken home where they would nurse your bites and clean you up and treat you like their sweet little mate.

#yandere terato #yandere teratophilia #yandere x reader #monster boyfriend #yandere monster #gender neutral reader #male yandere x gn reader #monster harem #male harem #yandere male harem #My OCs #My OC Bakari #My OC Akida #My OC Kito #Yandere Gnoll Harem #Gn!reader x Monster Man Harem

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libraryofgage · 7 months

Text

Librarian Steve :)

Was talking to a friend about people (specifically this one kid that gives such Dustin energy hfjdks) I meet at work (I'm a librarian) and that evolved into this plot bunny so:

Librarian Steve, rock star Eddie, and the 5 times Steve pretends he doesn't know who Eddie is while they flirt + 1 time Steve reveals he knew about Eddie's rock star status the whole time

There is also, definitely, at some point, going to be a second part where the kids keep just barely missing Eddie and refuse to believe Steve is actually dating anyone but especially not Eddie Munson of all people

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't

One

Steve stares at the man on the other side of the circulation desk. He's wearing a Metallica shirt, ripped jeans, a guitar pick necklace, clunky rings on each finger, and an expression that says he's bracing himself for something painful.

Here's the thing: Steve knows who Eddie Munson is. It's hard to listen to alternative rock or punk or any other genre like that and not know Eddie Munson. It's hard to be a librarian who works primarily with kids in middle school and high school, all going through that painful, angsty phase that they express through music, and not know Eddie Munson.

So, yeah, Steve takes one look at the admittedly (incredibly) attractive guy and immediately knows he's Eddie Munson. Like, of Corroded Coffin fame. Of Rock n Roll Hall of Fame fame. Of platinum-level album sales fame. Of--okay, his point has probably been made.

Anyway, yeah, Steve knows this is Eddie Munson, and while he'd love to say he's a fan and smile at Eddie and maybe ask for an autograph, Steve also grew up as a Small Town Rich Kid. So he knows that look on Eddie's face, the one that says he's bracing himself for someone to start fawning over him and potentially ask for uncomfortable favors or his number or any other request that's definitely crossing the line into invasive.

Steve easily makes the decision to pretend he doesn't recognize Eddie. So, he puts on his customer service smile and says, "Hello, how can I help you?"

The sheer relief in Eddie's eyes is more than enough to tell Steve he made the right choice. "Right, uh, this is my first time here," Eddie says, shifting slightly before placing his hands on the counter and drumming his fingers.

"Oh, congratulations," Steve says, his tone and smile becoming more genuine. "Did you come here to print something?"

Eddie shakes his head, reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a library card. "My friend has, like, a...hold? Yeah, a hold on something and asked me to pick it up," he explains.

Steve nods once and takes the card when Eddie offers it. He scans it and watches the computer load for a few seconds before opening an account window for someone named Asher Katz. "Since you aren't the cardholder," Steve says, navigating to the "Additional Information" tab in the account, "I'll need you to tell me the four-digit pin or code word connected to the account."

He clearly wasn't expecting that requirement, and Eddie flounders for a moment. "Is that a requirement?" he asks.

With an apologetic smile, Steve nods. "Yeah," he says, stretching out the word as he tries to think. "Oh, you could also call him and have him tell me the pin. Then I could confirm that it's okay for you to check out materials on his behalf."

"This is a lot of hoops for a book," Eddie says, frowning slightly as he takes out his phone.

"We have to make sure people's materials are secure. Also, we have to keep track of what people check out for the library's stats report at the end of each quarter."

Eddie looks like he understands about half of that, and Steve once again flashes an apologetic smile. After a few taps on the screen, Eddie glances around the library, ensuring it's empty, before putting the phone on speaker. The moment it picks up, and before Asher can speak, Eddie says, "Hey, man, I'm at the library. Can you tell, uh--" Eddie looks up to check Steve's nametag "--Steve what your pin is so I can check that book out."

A few seconds pass before Steve hears a sigh on the other end of the phone. "1234," Asher says.

"Seriously?" Eddie asks.

Steve glances at the account page, confirms the pin, and nods. "Could you also provide me with your code word?"

"Password."

"Dude!" Eddie says, staring at the phone like he's once again being reminded that his friend is a dumbass.

Steve checks the account again and nods once more. "Great, thank you. Could you confirm that...," Steve trails off, looking at Eddie expectantly.

Eddie blinks like he forgot Steve didn't know who he was and hesitates before clearing his throat and quietly saying, "Eddie."

"Thanks," Steve says, flashing another smile before looking at the phone and continuing, "Can you confirm that Eddie here is allowed to check out holds on your behalf?"

"Uh, yeah, that's fine, man."

"Great, thank you," Steve says, checking the card number once more before heading to the hold shelf behind the desk. He crouches and starts scanning stickers on the spines for Asher's last name and the last four digits of his number. Behind him, he hears Eddie say goodbye, his voice sounding a little strained for reasons Steve can't really figure out at the moment.

He finds the right book after a few moments and pulls it off the shelf. "Here it is," he says, walking over to the desk and pulling up the check-out window on his computer. He scans the library card once more, carefully pulls the sticker off the spine, and scans the book.

"It's due in two weeks, but if your friend needs more time, he can just give the library a call," Steve explains, passing the book and card back to Eddie with a smile. "Was there anything else I could do for you?"

Eddie just stares at him for a few seconds, his cheeks looking a little pinker than before, and Steve wonders if the building's A/C somehow gave up on life. Again. But he can hear it running so that definitely isn't it. "Uh, nope, that's it," Eddie says, gripping the book tightly in his hands, his rings pressing into the cover. "Thanks, Steve, appreciate it."

"Of course, man. Have a good day," Steve says with a genuine smile and wave as Eddie heads toward the door.

With a slightly awkward wave back, Eddie walks out the door, glancing back over his shoulder once before the door completely shuts. Once the library is empty again, Steve hears the door to the backroom open, and Robin practically slides up to the counter, leaning onto it next to him.

"Was that?" she asks. Steve instantly translates the question in his head: Was that Eddie fucking Munson?

"Yep."

"And did you?"

And did you just pretend you didn't know him?

"Yep."

"Did he?"

Did he catch on?

"Nope."

"Do you think?"

Do you think he'll be back?

Steve shrugs, glancing over at her. "Don't know," he says, pausing for a moment before adding, "He's hotter in person."

Robin barks out a laugh. "Maybe you'll actually get to flirt next time," she says, and Steve grins at her, kind of hoping she's right.

Two

Eddie returns exactly two weeks later, and Steve is lucky enough to once again be working a desk shift when he walks through the door. He's wearing a Nine Inch Nails shirt this time, and his hair is pulled back into a messy bun with strands escaping to frame his face. He goes up to the counter, focused on Steve and completely ignoring Robin sitting at another computer, and sets the book down. "I wanna return this. And get a library card for myself," he says.

Steve can't help a clearly amused smile as he takes the book and scans it in. "Do you have an ID with you?" he asks, sliding the book along the desk to rest next to Robin.

He ignores the glare she shoots at him before grabbing the book to place it on a reshelving cart for later.

"Yeah, do I need anything else?" Eddie asks.

As Steve shakes his head, he leans over to grab a library card application from a small organizer. He places it in front of Eddie and passes him a pen as well. "Just fill that out," he says, leaning forward on the counter as Eddie picks up the pen.

"So, uh, what can I do with a library card?" Eddie asks, glancing up at Steve briefly before focusing on carefully writing. His letters are blocky but awkward like he's consciously thinking about how he's writing each one.

Maybe he just doesn't want to risk his writing being recognized, too? From what Steve remembers of the signatures he's seen, Eddie's handwriting is fairly distinctive.

"You can borrow up to 75 materials at one time, place items on hold, use the computers, and you get one dollar of printing credit that renews each day," Steve lists, tilting his head slightly as he watches Eddie write.

"That's it?"

Steve snorts, raising an eyebrow at Eddie when he looks up. "Oh, that's not enough for you?" he asks, unable to help a slight grin, "You can use it at any library within our system, too. So you'll still have options if you get banned from this one."

"Oh? And what would I be banned for?" Eddie asks, his writing pausing long enough to meet Steve's gaze once more and smirk at him.

"I wonder," Steve says, not missing the way Eddie's gaze drops to his lips for less than a second before moving back up.

Holy shit, he's flirting with Eddie Munson.

"I can also help you find books to read based on what you've liked previously," Steve adds, somewhat clumsily pulling back from the flirting. It's only Eddie's second time here, and he doesn't want to let himself get too caught up in...well, Eddie when there's no guarantee he'll be back.

Eddie hums softly as he looks back at the application. "Oh? What would you recommend for me?" he asks.

"What's your favorite book?"

"The Hobbit."

"What did you like about it?"

"The adventure and the characters."

"Do you prefer fantasy? What about sci-fi?"

"Yeah, those are fine."

Steve hums softly, thinking as Eddie sets the pen down and slides the application to him. "Thanks. I also need to see your ID," Steve says, opening a drawer in the desk and pulling out a library card. He scans it, a new account window popping up and waiting to be filled out.

"What's the ID for?" Eddie asks.

"To confirm that you live in our service area," Steve explains, taking the ID when Eddie offers it. He glances at the photo briefly, confirming that it is, in fact, Eddie Munson, and then double-checks the address. It matches what Eddie wrote on the application, so he nods and slides the ID back to him.

"That's it?"

Steve nods, beginning to type Eddie's information into the account page. "Yeah, that's it," he says, glancing up and smiling at Eddie, "Anyway, I think you'll enjoy the Murderbot Diaries. It's about a cyborg that hacks its control module, thinks about maybe going on a killing spree, and then discovers TV instead. It then just goes on adventures through space while fighting, like, capitalism and corporations."

"Sounds pretty badass," Eddie says, leaning forward on the counter like he wants to get a peek at the computer. "How long is it?"

"It's mostly novellas, so they're quick reads."

"Got any copies here?"

Steve hums, entering the last of Eddie's information. "I can check," he says, "but first, I need a code word for your account. Like, if you forget your pin or have someone else come pick up a hold, this word will confirm it's you."

Eddie thinks for a few seconds, his gaze dropping to Steve's nametag once more. "Stevie," he says.

Steve's fingers falter, accidentally typing an incomprehensible key smash into the information field. He glances up at Eddie. "...as in Stevie Nix? Don't forget, this has to be something you'll remember," he says, raising an eyebrow.

With a playful grin and a wink, Eddie says, "Well, I think you're pretty unforgettable, Stevie."

A beat passes as Steve stares at Eddie, feeling a rush of heat to his cheeks. He clears his throat and looks back at the computer, hesitating for a second more before typing "Stevie" into the field and saving the account. When he's done, he slides the card to Eddie along with a Sharpie. "That's your card, please sign on the back."

He notices Eddie stiffen at the request, but Steve doesn't comment. As he instead searches the library's catalog, he tries to ignore the sheer panic coming from Eddie as he tries to figure out how to sign the card. Eventually, Eddie picks up the Sharpie and writes his name in the same awkward, blocky writing he used for the application.

"So," Steve says, getting Eddie's attention once more, "we don't have any copies of the first book here, but I can put it on hold for you. It should be here in around four days, and you'll get an email when it's available. Does that work?"

Eddie nods as he places the Sharpie down. "Sure, I'm happy to swing by and pick it up," he says, his tone and smile and the playful look in his eyes telling Steve there are more reasons than that for him to come by the library.

And as Steve places the book on hold for Eddie, he can't help a tiny, eager smile.

Three

The D8 sits innocently on the counter in front of Steve, marbled colors of blue and red with streaks of gold to complement the gold-painted numbers. Steve had immediately recognized it as Will's when he was cleaning the meeting room, and he knew the kid was probably losing his mind right now searching for it. He feels kind of bad knowing Will is going to lose all hope of finding it before his next visit to the library.

At the same time, though, he's looking forward to the expression of sheer joy on Will's face when he next comes in and Steve gives it back. Maybe it'll even score him a bonus point with Mike, and he'll be a little less of an asshole. Though, knowing Mike like he does, Steve is sure he'll just get jealous that Steve made Will smile like that instead of himself.

That kid is incredibly skilled at finding new grudges to hold.

"Whatcha got there, Stevie?"

Steve blinks, looking away from the D8 to find Eddie leaning on the counter, a familiar grin tugging at his lips. His hair is loose today, falling over his shoulders, and he's boldly wearing a Hellfire Club shirt, like he's confident that Steve won't recognize any of Corroded Coffin's merch.

Which, sure, Steve is great at pretending by now. Especially after he and Robin made a bet on whether Steve could keep the secret until Eddie asked him out. Steve has incredible faith in himself; Robin says he's too dumb and gay to last that long. So far, after around two months and multiple visits from Eddie, Steve is still going strong.

"A D8," Steve says, holding it between his thumb and forefinger so Eddie can see it clearly. "One of the kids left it behind yesterday."

"They were playing D&D here?" Eddie asks, tilting his head slightly as he holds his hand out.

Steve drops the dice into his hand, watching as Eddie inspects the gold numbers and hums softly with appreciation. "I host a weekly D&D program," Steve explains. "A group of regular kids plays, and they were getting a little disruptive when they played in the common area--" Steve gestures to the cluster of tables where the kids used to set up "--and the program gives them the meeting room for a whole afternoon."

Eddie looks up at him like he's just said he's a volunteer firefighter on the weekends. It's not an awe and appreciation that Steve really deserves, but he also can't help the slight puff of his chest when it's coming from Eddie. "Do you play, too?" Eddie asks.

"Sort of?" Steve frowns slightly, trying to remember how Dustin and Will explained his role during the campaign to him. "I'm, like, extras. Their DM, Will, wanted his, uh, NPCs? Yeah, NPCs. He wanted the NPCs to feel more real, so he'll give me, like, a little script before each session and then have me voice the NPCs and give me signals to guide my interactions."

"Signals?"

"Yeah, like, if I'm a shop owner and the characters bargain for stuff. He'll give me a signal of when their, like, rolls are effective or when they suck. And if I'm a villain NPC, he'll give me a signal of when to die and give dramatic monologues," Steve explains.

And Eddie grins again, his eyes practically sparkling with amusement and curiosity. "I kinda wanna hear a dramatic monologue," he says, propping his chin in his palm and looking at Steve expectantly.

He's clearly settled in to watch a show, and Steve isn't one to disappoint. Steve does a quick sweep of the library and confirms that it's just as empty as he remembers. Then, he sits up a little straighter in his chair, clears his throat, and tries to remember his whole dying monologue from the most recent session.

When he speaks, it's with a raspy voice, laced with pain and anger at being defeated, "Curse you, adventurers! You may have won the battle, but the war! The war yet rages, and you will be caught in its carnage! Savor this victory now, for it will be your last, and you will fa-"

Steve cuts off, grinning when Eddie blinks and pouts. "Why'd you stop?" he asks.

"Mike's character killed me before I could finish. Said my monologue was boring."

Eddie snorts, raising an eyebrow at that. "It sounds like your monologue was going to reveal info about the BBG."

"Yep. It was, but Will refused to tell them what the rest would've been, and Dustin threw his dice at Mike for killing me."

"He's lucky it was only that," Eddie says, completely serious, "I might've just killed him."

Steve can't help laughing, imagining Max leaping over the table to tackle Mike to the floor. She's done it before, actually, and the only thing that keeps her from attacking again is the knowledge that Steve will ban her from the library for at least a month if she gets violent again.

"He's lucky none of them want to be temporarily banned," Steve says.

"Oh? That's all it takes to get banned?" Eddie asks.

Steve smirks at the teasing lift to Eddie's question. "Yep, so you'd better watch yourself, Munson. I expect you to be on your best behavior," he says.

"I've never been very good at behaving."

"Great, you'll fit right in with the kids."

He looks up to see Eddie's smile growing wider, and Steve suddenly finds himself wondering how it would feel to kiss that smile away.

Four

Something library school never prepared Steve for is how overwhelmed certain days would make him. That's the thing about working with the public: some days are just never-ending, a line of patrons needing something practically wrapping through the stacks, meaning Steve can't turn off his customer service voice and smile.

Usually, he'll just escape to the back, lock himself in the employee bathroom, and take five minutes to cool down. Robin has gotten great at knocking on the door when the five minutes is up, pretending she needs to use the bathroom so the other staff members don't suspect Steve of breathing away a breakdown.

Today, though, Steve can't hide in the bathroom because of the music Robin is playing in the back. It's grating on his ears, scratching against his brain and down his spine like nails on a chalkboard, made all the worse by his interactions with an older patron with a voice that was rough and somehow rounded with sharp edges at the same time.

If Steve asked, Robin would definitely turn off the music, but he also saw her tense shoulders, how on edge she was, and how the music was the only thing helping her calm down. So Steve couldn't. Instead, he just said he was going to shelf-read the non-fiction section.

Because nobody goes into the non-fiction section. At least, nobody goes to the part of the section filled with encyclopedias. It's a safe corner, tucked into the back of the library where few people wander unless they're desperate for an outdated book of information that has no real bearing on their life.

So here Steve is, sitting on the floor with his knees pulled up to his chest and his eyes closed. This part of the library is quieter, but he can still hear the general ambiance of the building: people talking in hushed voices, the keyboards clicking as people type, chairs scraping against the floor as people pull them out.

And quiet footsteps coming closer. They're accompanied by the gentle sound of metal bouncing against itself. Steve doesn't open his eyes, but he does know that it's Eddie, and he's not at all surprised that Eddie managed to find him deep in the stacks.

It makes him feel a little warm, actually.

When Eddie reaches him, he doesn't speak. He just sits next to Steve, close enough for Steve to feel his presence without their shoulders touching. And he seems content to stay in silence for as long as needed, but Steve doesn't want silence. He wants to hear Eddie's voice; maybe it will override the discomfort of the music and the patron from earlier.

"Could you talk?" Steve asks, his voice soft and barely audible.

But Eddie hears him and scoots a tiny bit closer, letting their shoulders brush.

"I have opinions about library shelving because of you now. Like, why are science fiction and fantasy shelved together as one category? They're two different genres; they represent different things. One is a reflection of our society and all that it could be, an escape into something new, and the other is a reflection of what our society was through the eyes of a new world. And, like, it's not even the ones you think. They both embody different lessons and values and pairing them together is, like, demeaning to the hallmarks of the genres and what they can do for readers."

Yeah, that definitely sounds like an opinion about library shelving and cataloging. Steve can't help a soft laugh escaping him as he finally opens his eyes and looks at Eddie. "What started this?" he asks.

"There are Star Trek novels right next to, like, Seven Blades in Black on the shelves, Stevie. It's horrendous. What the fuck?"

Steve smiles a little, gently knocking their elbows together. "Unfortunately, I can't control how our cataloging department works," he says.

"Sounds like a skill issue to me," Eddie says, "Maybe you should just get good."

Steve barks out a laugh, covering his mouth with his hand at how loud it sounds. He glares at Eddie, his eyes holding no real heat.

Eddie grins right back and leans in a little closer. "Feeling better, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice soft and gentle and brushing against Steve's brain like a cool stream of water on a hot day.

It makes his shoulders relax, something in his stomach uncurling and draining all the tension from his muscles. "Yeah," he replies, "thanks."

"Anytime, Stevie," Eddie says, smiling at Steve like he's capable of hanging stars in the sky, like he'd do a backflip with a broken spine if Steve asked.

And Steve...Steve finds himself getting lost in Eddie's eyes, and he has no plans to find his way out anytime soon.

Five

Most of the library staff hates reshelving books, but Steve loves it. He doesn't have to use his brain beyond remembering the alphabet, and he can listen to music while he works, easily zoning out so the time passes quickly.

Which is what's happening now. He's probably been shelving for a while, but he's been listening to a Corroded Coffin playlist the entire time, humming along to Hellfire and Chains. His head is bobbing along to the music as he works, and he turns to grab another book off the reshelving cart only to find Eddie standing right behind him.

Steve jumps, his heart leaping into his throat as he chokes on air and Corroded Coffin notes. Eddie is staring at him with wide eyes, somewhere between afraid and infatuated, and Steve can't help asking, "What the fuck, man?" in a whispered voice.

"Whatcha listening to, Stevie?" Eddie asks, ignoring Steve's question.

Oh. If he admits to knowing Corroded Coffin's music, then he'll probably be giving up the whole "I know you're famous" thing, and based on Eddie's somewhat terrified look, that's not a great idea right now. But he also can't lie about the music because Eddie's going to recognize his own songs.

"Uh, Corroded Coffin, I think? I heard Lucas playing one of their songs. It sounded catchy and he sent me a playlist he'd made on Spotify," Steve explains.

It's not a lie, technically. That is how he discovered Corroded Coffin, but that was almost two years ago now.

"And, uh, what do you think?" Eddie asks, glancing at the earbuds still playing in Steve's ear.

Steve studies him for a moment before smiling. "They're really good," he says, turning around to continue shelving books. "I like stuff from their second album best so far."

"Do you usually listen to metal and rock?" Eddie asks, glancing at the shelving cart before passing Steve another book.

Steve almost tells Eddie to let him do the shelving, but then he sees that Eddie passed him the correct book for this section, so he bites back the words. Instead, he nods and crouches to slide the book into a bottom shelf. "Yeah. More older stuff, I guess. Guns N' Roses, Metallica, Nine Inch Nails, Queen. That kind of stuff," he says.

"Holy fuck, you're perfect," Eddie says, his voice soft and full of awe and Steve is about to laugh when Eddie adds, "Marry me."

Steve blinks, nearly losing his balance and falling on his ass. He saves himself at the last minute, quickly standing up again so he can look at Eddie. "Seriously?" he asks, wondering if maybe he had just misheard.

He did not. And this is proven by Eddie moving around the shelving cart, grabbing Steve's hand, and getting down on one knee. "Incredibly. Your music taste is fucking immaculate, sweetheart. Also, you're funny, hot, and sweet, and I've recently developed a librarian kink, I think. So. Marry me," Eddie says before using his teeth to pull off one of the chunky rings on his left hand so his right hand doesn't have to let go of Steve.

He then holds the ring up, and Steve really shouldn't find that as hot as he does. Like. Really hot. And he almost considers saying yes. But then he fully processes Eddie's words and almost laughs. "You've developed a librarian kink? So, what, you'll drop me the moment another librarian starts ranting about the Dewey Decimal system?" he asks.

"Okay, fair," Eddie says, nodding once. "Let me rephrase that. I've developed a Librarian Steve Harrington kink. Only you, big boy. Nobody curses out the Dewey Decimal system like you, sweetheart."

That might be the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to Steve, actually. "It's a shitty cataloging system," he says without thinking.

Eddie nods in agreement, still on one knee, still holding up the ring (it's shaped like a coffin, now that Steve spares it more than a quick glance) and still looking up at Steve with an infatuated smile. "It is," he agrees, voice a little softer than before like he's ready to just kneel through Steve's passionate rant about it.

And Steve thinks that might be the final straw for him. "I'd prefer at least one date before marriage," he says, grinning down at Eddie and pulling him back to his feet.

Eddie follows his lead, standing a little too close considering Steve is, technically, still at work. He turns Steve's hand over so it's palm up and drops the ring into it. "Of course, Stevie. How about lunch tomorrow? My treat," he offers.

Of course, Steve says yes.

+ One

"I still think there are funnier ways to tell him," Robin says, crossing her arms and pouting as Steve leans against the counter, his back to the door.

Steve sticks his tongue out at her. "You're just mad you lost the bet," he says. Telling her she lost had made Steve's entire week, especially since it means Robin is finally (finally!) going to dress up with Steve the next time they go to a basketball game together. He's got a jersey and shorts ready for her; he's had them ready since the first game he invited her to. They have her name across the back, are the ugliest shade of mustard yellow he could find, and match his perfectly.

"That jersey is the work of the devil," she says, her nose scrunching in disgust at the thought of it.

Steve just grins. "You never know, maybe a nice girl will be enraptured by your awkward lesbian swag," he says.

Robin is about to answer when she looks over Steve's shoulder and grins, her eyes lighting up. Steve looks over his shoulder to see Eddie smiling at him. "Hey, Stevie," he says.

And here it is. The moment of truth. Steve grins right back at Eddie and turns around, letting him see the graphic on his shirt. It's one he bought at a Corroded Coffin concert a year ago. It has the band's first album cover emblazoned across it with Eddie front-and-center, playing his guitar with the other band members around him as bats swirl in a red haze above their heads.

Eddie stares at the shirt, his smile freezing on his face and his body tensing. Panic starts to fill his eyes, and he glances up, looking ready to explain himself only to stop when he sees Steve's soft, endeared smile. He pauses, studying Steve's expression for a moment before laughing a little awkwardly and tugging on a lock of his hair, using it to cover his mouth. "So, uh, you knew the whole time," he says.

"Yep," Steve replies, leaning forward on the counter so it's harder for Eddie to avoid looking at him. "I did."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Eddie asks.

"You didn't want me to," Steve says. Then he considers his words and corrects, "Or, you didn't want to be recognized. When you first came in, you were bracing yourself for it, and I figured you'd feel more comfortable if I pretended not to know you."

"What about all the other times?"

Steve shrugs, his smile becoming reassuring. "I figured you'd either tell me when you were ready, or I'd tell you when we went on a date because you'd probably get all in your head about having a secret like that while we were dating."

And Steve is right. Eddie would have freaked out over the secret, and he would have struggled with telling Steve at just the right moment, and time would have stretched on and on until it had been too long to tell him anything. It would have been agony for Eddie and left Steve concerned and just not a good time for anyone.

"So, uh, how long have you been a fan?" Eddie asks.

"Well, I wasn't lying about hearing your music from Lucas, but I did lie about the time. It was two years ago," Steve explains.

Eddie slowly nods and then starts to grin. "So, how's it feel dating a celebrity?" he asks playfully, leaning closer and wiggling his eyebrows at Steve.

"Like a Wattpad fantasy come true," Steve deadpans, nearly cracking when he hears Robin lose her shit behind him, her laughter turning into wheezes within seconds.

Eddie laughs, too. It's loud and bright and makes Steve feel warm and happy, like every problem could be solved simply by making Eddie laugh just like this.

Steve is eager to find out if that's true.

#steddie #steddie fic #librarian steve harrington #rock star eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #platonic stobin #robin buckley #5 + 1 fic #my writing #i'm a librarian btw so this was a bit inspired by my experiences #also fuck the dewey decimal system all my homies hate the dewey decimal system #it is a plague upon this earth

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midnightwriter21 · 7 months

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jjk hcs: satoru gojo meeting soulmate!reader

characters: satoru gojo x reader, mentions of megumi, yuji, nobara, and principal yaga

warnings: language, mentions of a giant spider

AN: AS PROMISED!!! the soulmate gojo fic!! i’m a sucker for non-sorcerer!reader x gojo. so if u want a version with a sorcerer reader lmk!!!

edit: sorcerer!reader version is published!! read it HERE

- soulmate au where the first words your soulmate says to you are tattooed in their handwriting somewhere on your body!!!

SATORU GOJO

you’re working at a small, family-run cafe

which just so happens to be quite close to jujitsu high school

it’s quite often that students and staff from the school are stopping at the cafe for a quick snack, coffee, and sometimes lunch

and due to an unfortunate run in with a low grade curse during a rush, you are very aware of the jujutsu world

principal yaga himself exorcised the curse when he was on his lunch break at the cafe

usually you’re working in the kitchen, baking, whilst someone else takes orders

until a coworker of yours calls in sick at the last minute… so ur on ur own rip

taking orders, cooking, serving, all of the above on your own

the 3 first year jujutsu high students, megumi, yuji, and nobara come into the cafe after a mission

they place their orders and megumi tells you that their sensei would be joining them shortly, with yuji letting you know that their sensei would also be picking up the bill

as if it would even put a dent in gojo’s wallet

anyways after taking their orders you walk into the kitchen to begin making their food and drinks

as you get to work, gojo walks into the cafe, joining his students at their table

you’re rushing around the kitchen, flour stuck to the font of your shirt, hair sticking out in different directions

trying to get the food cooked and out to them in a timely manner

and the world is just not on your side today because guess what shows up in your kitchen…

a cursed spirit

but not any cursed spirit

a cursed spirit in the form of a spider

a GIANT spider with what seems like a million eyes, the 8 legs, kinda furry looking

oh and did i mention it was giant? by giant I mean it stood at abt 6ft tall

two words: hell. nah.

when you turn away from the stove and find it standing behind you

you, like any normal person, let out an eardrum shattering screech of terror and back away from it as fast as possible

backing yourself into the corner of the room, with no room to escape…

the 3 first years and their sensei hear your scream and spring into action, running into the kitchen to defend you

that’s a lie

the 3 first years run to defend you

their sensei takes his time, sauntering towards the kitchen with his hands in his pockets

bastard

the kitchen door slams open as the 3 first years spring through the door, with yuji pouncing on the curse

the pink haired boy delivers a heavy punch, knocking the spider curse away from you

you take the chance to run

yeah girl it’s better to give them their space fr, yuji has a habit of punching through walls with his bare hands

you run through the door, looking behind you towards the scene, and you run head first into what feels like a brick wall

before you fall onto your ass, you feel two large hands latch onto your shoulders to steady you

“woah! don’t go falling for me already.. we just met.”

you look up at the voice, finding a man with stark white hair, a blindfold, and a cocky smirk

adrenaline coursing through your body you don’t even process the man’s words and you find yourself babbling almost unintelligibly to the man

“kill it! please kill it! i can’t stand spiders!”

the mans grip on your shoulders tighten slightly before he releases you, pushing you behind him, chuckling quietly with a “anything for you, sweetheart”

and with the flick of his wrist the spider curse literally explodes

staring at the tall man in both shock and awe, you don’t realize until you smell smoke

“THE FOOD IS BURNING SHIT!” and your running back into the kitchen to see if anything is salvageable

it’s not lol but honestly the food is the last thing on anyone’s mind

as you throw the ruined food away, the same hands from earlier sit themselves on your shoulders again, turning you around

“so… if i’m gonna actually get you to fall for me, i’m gonna need your number.” and there’s a phone thrust in your face

and at his words you remember his earlier statement to you, “woah! don’t go falling for me already.. we just met.”

you look up at him in shock, putting a hand on your forearm, over your soulmate mark with those exact words covering your skin

and he just smirks and pulls the sleeve of his uniform up to show you his own forearm

and printed in your own handwriting is your terror filled words from earlier, “kill it! please kill it! i can’t stand spiders!”

as the blush crawls up your neck and into your cheeks he laughs, throwing an arm around your shoulders and saying, “so.. does this mean I get free sweets from now on?”

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emma-d-klutz · 2 months

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Clark telling someone on the Daily Planet who only knows him vaguely as a coworker that, sorry, he really cant take any of that Wayne Ent job off him. Why? Well he sure would like to be of help but journalistic integrity and all. Oh you don't know? Wayne is one of his best friends. No for real. No really! Like probably slot 5 of his top 5 favorite people in the world if he's ranking. (No, Lois isn't first. His mom is first. Which Lois knows but don't like say that I said that.) Right Wayne! No yeah for real love the idiot. You haven't seen him come around? Yeah and he always calls Clark the wrong name as a joke because we're friends. Dude I'm not lying to get out of this! Why would I lie? Ok yeah it is an annoying assignment...

Hang on.

Clark texts someone on his phone. Waits a beat. Gets a text back. Calls someone. It's ringing. It picks up.

"You're on speaker, B."

"Sorry just had to get somewhere quieter-" It is so loud in the background Wayne is nearly screaming into the phone. "Oh yeah Clark was with me all last week. Whatever you saw was someone else. In fact, he saved my life up there. I broke part of my spine on a fall and was partially paralyzed instantly, and he had to carry me over his shoulder. But then after five hours of carrying me, his adrenaline gave out, and so did his legs. So we're both on the ground in a pile right near the ledge, and we start sliding that direction, and I think to myself -I distinctly remember- I think to myself that if we're going to die, at least I get to die looking at intrepid reporter Clark Kent, who is waaay more ripped than he looks with a shirt on and has the most soulful blue eyes. And then we were saved or something because he's such a genius that he rewired his phone and rigged it to get a signal even in the middle of nowhere on the fly and called for a helicopter. Or something like that. I don't know. But yeah thats why Clark's been gone, and if you thought you saw him, you saw someone else. I mean that haircut is everywhere. Did you know he set that trend? Anyway I gotta go."

The line goes dead. Clark and the coworker look blankly at each other for a moment.

".....You were here all last week."

"Sorry. I didn't text him why I needed him to say he knows me, so I think he just.... tried to cover all the bases."

(Bruce is in several layers of method acting ofc but Jimmy, Hal, Ollie, Dinah, Kara, and several more all gleefully corroborate it immediately when given the opportunity and even yes-and onto it, and now Clark's journalistic integrity is going towards reminding his coworker that he was here last week I promise they're all doing bits )

#bruce wayne: now if I were bruce wayne what motive(s) would i misinterpret for such a text?

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eddiernunson · 10 months

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Really Drives Me Mad | Bfs Dad!Eddie Munson x Reader | 18+

Master List | Next Part

My best friend tells me that he's a keeper

I really like Dylan a lot But Dylan's dad He really drives me mad With his faded tats Sings in a cover band Yeah he's super hot with his ripped dad bod Oh my, oh my god I like Dylan a lot But oh god I love Dylan's dad

I know y'all weren't expecting this... Well neither was I. It like invaded my mind and begged me to write it. (this is the dirtiest thing ive ever written.)

Word Count: 7.5k

Summary: You've been dating Dylan Munson for a little bit, and it's going well, or at least you feel like it is. Despite everything right with Dylan you can't help but feel uneasy...then you meet Eddie Munson, his dad... and find yourself wet at the sight of him. (reader is in her 20s, Eddie probably in his 40s or so)

Warnings: masturbation (both), voyeurism (both), lot of perv!Eddie, reader ends up cheating, just some dirty stuff. MINORS DNI.

As you sit cross legged on your best friend’s garage couch mindlessly watching some Netflix while she took another hit, your phone dings, a text message you’ve been waiting on.

“Ooh, speak of the devil.” She teases you, putting the bong aside to peek at what Dylan texted you. You roll your eyes at her, answering him to pick you up in the morning. “What did he say?”

Her eyebrows were wagging over-exaggeratingly, and you narrow your eyes. “Just asked when I wanted to get picked up for our trip to the beach tomorrow.”

“Are you excited?” She asks, her voice suggestive and you can hear more excitement in her voice alone than you felt about the trip.

“Yes.” You lie to her, because if you told the truth, you knew you’d hear about it.

Dylan was a good guy. You met him through a singles mixer you went to for shits and giggles and ended up meeting him. He had no business being there, his league was not the type of girl to go to a Fajita style mixer even for laughs. He was so overwhelmingly better looking than every other guy in that mixer that scooping him up before anyone dug their claws in was the logical thing to do.

It wasn’t that you didn’t find him hot.

Dylan ended up being almost everything you said you were looking for. Stable. Ready for commitment. Willing to go the extra mile.

He was stable in every way it takes most men into their 30s to figure out.

You knew he was a rare find as someone dating in your 20s. Yet, there was just something missing.

It wasn’t anything you could describe, and each time you had expressed the feeling people seem to dismiss it, claiming it stemmed from every failed relationship you’ve had. Logically, you should be head over heels over this man who is so sweet and willing to do the most.

But the feeling just nagged at your skull.

For the sake of not feeling guilty and seeing that same bug-eyed expression on your best friend you lie. It felt weird to have to lie to her just to seem grateful for what life has provided to you on a silver platter. So, until an actual reason for this hesitancy presents itself, the dates and the heavy make out sessions and whatnot will continue.

The ego boost he provides when he sends you drooling emojis when you send a bikini selfie for what you’re wearing the next day certainly doesn’t help your case.

“I’m so glad you found him, he’s so sweet.” She mentions off-hand.

You nod, gritting your teeth.

Dylan is on time, as always, prompt and proper to pick you up from your apartment. He texts to let you know he was outside, and you grab your beach bag of snacks and your towel and do a final assessment in the mirror.

Cute pink bikini that hung by a string sitting high on your hips, barely hidden by the long cut out dress you wore. Your bag matched the bikini, and you wore some tiny sunnies to put the whole look together. If you’re gonna date someone as good looking might as well look the part.

As you approached his chevy truck he was animatedly bug eyed while looking at you, his brown eyes popping out of their socket while he drummed his steering wheel. His zest and energy for life was always so contagious. You smiled at him, your cheeks burning as you climbed into the passenger seat.

“Hi baby.” He greets you, kissing you softly. You find yourself grinning into it.

He pulls out onto the main road for the forty-five-minute trip to the lake most people go for a weekend getaway. About five minutes down the road, Dylan pats his cargo shorts down real quick and grunts in disappointment.

“What?”

“Forgot the parking pass for the beach lot. I literally got that for fifteen dollars so I wouldn’t have to pay twenty at the till.” He explains, making a sudden left turn.

You’ve been to his house before, and he usually takes you there when his dad is either at work or just not home. You weren’t sure why, his dad seemed like a decent dude.

(From what you’ve heard anyway)

Maybe, like you, he wasn’t ready for meeting the parents yet.

“Oh, I think my dad will be home around now. Hope that’s okay.” He says, as if you had just spoken aloud. “I think it was time for you to meet him, anyways.”

Shit. Nope. He was ready. You were no where ready for him to meet your mom, who already loved him just from your best friend’s descriptions.

“Oh. Sure.” You glance down to your outfit, something worn not knowing you were about to meet parents. “Are you sure I’m dressed for that though?”

“My dad has met girlfriends in worse positions.” Dylan laughs. “Trust me. This is a better meeting.”

This helps you very little.

Five minutes down the road he pulls into the starter home he and his dad have been living in his whole life, a sweet little bungalow with three rooms and two bathrooms. It was by no means anything to cough at, certainly impressive for a mechanic, but Dylan seemed to behave incredibly sheepishly every time.

Dylan pulls in, and your heart races as you see his dad’s truck in the driveway. As Dylan gets out to open your door, he can feel your nervousness. “Can I just stay here?” You ask him, unsure why he needed you to go in for a pass in the first place.

“Oh I promise he doesn’t bite.” He jokes.

You give him a weak smile, holding his hand as you walked to the front door. The door doesn’t need a key, swinging open and the bright sunlight giving you both a shadow against the hardwood flooring. Dylan walks in, calling for his dad’s name. You squeeze his hand tighter out of nervousness. Eventually the sounds of his creaky steps are heard from the kitchen where Dylan is scanning for his pass, signalling his father coming down the steps.

You were facing towards the stove across the island counter, watching Dylan go through the drawers for it.

“Woah, thought you’d be halfway to the beach by now, you were so damn excited.” You hear his dad’s voice, and there’s something about it, his tone leaning towards a tease that enticed you to turn your head towards him.

Your jaw dropped. Or it didn’t. Certainly felt like a moment for your mouth to open in amazement. In a split second you knew where Dylan got his good looks, and it was only a fraction of how mouth watering his dad was.

He wonders in with sweatpants low on his hips wearing a band t-shirt and his long curly hair was wet from a shower. As he shuffled by to the fridge, the scent of aftershave invaded your nose and somehow it just went straight to your core. He was certainly fit even for a dad, slight dad bod but nothing to poke at, you could tell he worked with his hands.

“Forgot my pass.” He mutters, looking through another drawer.

“I saw it this morning, so I put it in your bag as you were heading out.” His dad mentions off hand, getting the ingredients for a bowl of cereal out. As he lifted his hands over his head revealing a tattoo on his tummy and the treasure trail saliva entered your mouth like water bursting through a man-made dam.

“Seriously?” Dylan dead pans. He turns to you, and you switch your glance to seem innocent like you haven’t been eye-fucking his dad. “I’m gonna go double check it’s in there. Just stay here be right back.” He kisses you on the forehead and leaves without giving you a chance to protest.

“Nice, to meet you, by the way.” He says in a gruff voice as he pours the sugary cereal into the bowl.

“Nice to meet you, too, Mr. Munson.” Your voice sounded strained; you were hoping you were just imagining it.

He lets out a noise in disgust, his face scrunching up comically. “Oh god. Don’t call me that. Call me Eddie. Never Mr. Munson. Gross.”

You smile closed mouthed at his genuine disgust for it, and Eddie presents a smile as if your laughter was the long-term goal. “Nice to meet you, Eddie.”

“Much better.” He praises you, and it might be the closest thing you’ll ever get to the kind of praise you wanted from him, the kind where you find yourself on your knees in the kitchen, but you happily accepted it. Any crumbs you would happily take.

He could spit on you, and you would thank him.

Oh. That’s…new.

That wasn’t something you felt with Dylan at all. If Dylan had decided to spit on your face during sex, you would call the police. It would turn you off so fast you would kick him off you.

“Going to Lake Maureen?” He asks you, supposedly making small talk.

“Nope.” You tell him. “Museum.”

Eddie tilted his head, and from his shoulder’s shaking and the slow smile you could tell he was laughing.

“Yes.” You affirm.

“Where did you meet again?” Eddie asks as he puts away the milk, his voice seeming to extend from a thought he doesn’t share.

“Oh, a mixer.”

“Not the church mixer.” Eddie tilts his head, seeming genuinely fearful it was the truth.

You confirm that yes, it was the church mixer.

Eddie grabs a mug to pour the coffee you hadn’t noticed had he put on. As his hands cup a graphic mug you couldn’t see the comic for, you see the silver rings on his fingers and if your core wasn’t heated up before, it certainly was now. He leans forward, taking a sip of straight black coffee for a minute. “Sweetheart. You’re far too pretty to be going to a goddamn mixer. No wonder he was so fucking enthralled when he got home that day.”

You feel your face heat up at the nickname followed by him calling you pretty. Your thighs squeeze together as you attempt to force your heart back into your chest where it belonged. Somehow your extremities were freezing, and all the heat was centered in your pussy, just soaked from his presence alone.

He could tell you weren’t taking the compliment seriously. “Seriously. If he fucks it up and you end up single again no more fucking mixers for you.”

“Not like I had any more choices.” You defend yourself, not knowing why his insistence turned you on so much.

Eddie rolls his eyes as if he didn’t believe you. His mouth opens to tell you something, and the sound of Dylan bursting through the front door seems to cut him off. “Oh, you should’ve told me, we could’ve been almost there by now. Come on, baby! See you dad!”

The door slams, and you guessed you were supposed to follow him. “Um, you were gonna say something?” and the mystery is just too much for you.

“Oh. Was I? Totally forgot.” Eddie shrugs, putting his coffee mug down, having chugged that entire cup within the conversation. “Have fun.”

He scoops another spoonful of sugary cereal in his mouth, the dimples on his face prominent but the smile devious.

That smile would haunt you for the next twelve hours.

The trip with Dylan was alright, he swore up and down it was the best trip and it just brought you both closer as a couple. You probably would’ve agreed. A trip to the beach with Dylan Munson sounded enticing and sexy and adventurous for the most part until you met his dad.

Now thoughts of his flexed forearms has he gripped the counter while talking to you, wet hair smelling beautifully of the musk shampoo he used invaded your mind. Dylan fingering you on the beach under your skirt was yes, smoking hot, but as you imagined a certain someone else doing the same it brought you to your orgasm much quicker and much harder. Dylan figured he must be doing something right.

Guilt evaded you as you knew what the hell you were doing was wrong. You now had an excuse to get rid of him, you were far more into his dad than you ever were into him, and it should’ve been a sign.

But if you broke up with him now, you wouldn’t be able to see his dad. Yet as you took a walk down the shoreline into a cave and your eyes close picturing certain ringed fingers gripping your hips as Dylan did it made the sneaking off and the public sex that much hotter.

Seems you were sluttier than your initial sex life led you to believe. Turns out, you just haven’t met a man you wanted to be slutty for. Public sex seemed fun in theory, always so nerve wrecking in practice.

Public sex with Eddie felt like you wanted to get caught with him, fully enjoying his cock and letting people see. Voyeurism mixed with public embarrassment was suddenly hot and you got so into it that Dylan expressed how excited he was to fuck you on the next hike you took together, something he has expressed much interest in, but you denied bashfully every time.

Because with Dylan sex wasn’t all encaptivating. Sure he could make you cum, but you were never ready to rip off his clothes in a heartbeat. The moment you saw Eddie your fingers started to itch for that damn low sitting sweatpants for them to droop just a little…bit…more.

Dylan drops you off with a romantic wet kiss, and you walk into the door of your apartment in a daze. Before you can even think about it, you find yourself on your bed, your skirt around your ankles and two of your fingers down your bikini bottoms.

You start to take them off but there’s a voice you picture saying, “No, no. Keep them on like the whore you are.” It was not Dylan’s.

You listened to it, pretending to rub your clit in front of him watching. You could see a wild eye on his face, picturing him not being able to touch you driving him mad. The heat that expands into your pussy from that thought alone drives your hips for more friction. “Oh so fucking needy, yeah?” You imagine him saying to you, and fuck, you couldn’t not think of him being good at dirty talk. “Need this cock, don’t ya?”

The image of him slowly working the elastic waist-band of his sweatpants made you moan aloud, needily grinding on your own fingers.

“Too damn bad. You’re just gonna have to make yourself cum, like the slut you are.”

The slight foreplay you were accidentally given all day through your own imagination mixed with how fucking wet you were brought you to a quick orgasm, fluttering in your extremities as you continued imagining the wild eyes on Eddie’s face or the firm voice as he didn’t give you a choice on your dating pool.

This was the first truly earth-shattering orgasm you’ve ever felt in your life. One that you truly had to recover from…and it was from just picturing this man.

Something in you wanted the real thing, and you were terrified of how willing you were to go through with it, and equally as terrified of going through life wondering what it could’ve been like

If sex with Eddie Munson was as good as the orgasm you gave yourself, you might have to be Dylan’s stepmom, because you just found what was missing.

“Hey baby.” Dylan says, welcoming you as he opens the door.

You hold your pillow and a duffle bag sits on your shoulder for a sleepover, and the shorter shorts with a tank top you wear signalling you were ready for a night in. As you pass by him, Dylan gives out a low whistle to how well your ass is shown off in the pair of shorts you wore. They were so well fitting he could see you were either wearing a thong or nothing, but you could tell it turned him on. While this gave you a confidence boost, he wasn’t the target audience.

When you requested the sleepover Dylan warned you his dad would be there. Good. You assured him that would be fine. That was the goal.

“Hi, sweetheart!” Eddie calls down to you, and the smile invades your face before you could stop it.

“Hi, Mr. Munson!” You call out, and the sound of gagging is heard. “I meant Eddie!”

“Oh, I forgot he gets everyone to call him by his first name, like a lame youth pastor.” Dylan rolls his eyes, tugging on your hand to bring you to the couch in the living room. “Movie?”

You nod jerkily. Dylan works around you, getting a blanket, popcorn, and the movie all set up. He turns down the lights, winking at you suggestively as he does so.

Less than five minutes into the movie, the beginning credits still lingering on to the actors he leans in with an open mouth, his hand making its way to your hip. With the smell of him still fresh, being able to smell him on the couch you were on, it was easy to get eagerly into the kissing. This encouraged Dylan, of course confusing your eagerness for him. He reaches down, placing two of his fingers over your clothed pussy.

You moan lightly, and he shushes you softly. Mentally you roll your eyes, because he was telling you to be quiet because his dad was home.

You were hooking up with him on his couch because his dad was home. You listen to him anyway, and he starts to rub in small circles, you moan even higher, imagining he could hear you and getting off to it. “Shh, baby.” Dylan whispers. “Oh, you’re wet. Fuck.”

He slips his hands into your shorts, leaning you down to rub your pussy and attack your neck at the same time. “Pussy feels…mazing.” Dylan mutters between the slobbery neck kisses he gives you. It was enough for you to picture him, but suddenly Eddie coming downstairs right now without knowing what you were doing got you off even more.

“Eat me out?” You ask him, and ever the gentleman he smiles devilishly at you as he crawls down. He goes to place the blanket over his head, and you stop him. “Wanna see your face.”

Okay, you wanted to see Eddie see your pussy as his son went down on you, but it made Dylan eager enough to dig in in a way you haven’t seen from him yet.

You whine from the hot pleasure it gave you, you grind on his face, the heat focused on your pussy in a way that has never happened before. The idea of Eddie accidentally walking in on you but watching instead of saying anything gets you off so easily Dylan is feeling your juices wet his chin and your ass like it never has before.

“Greedy baby.” He mumbles, placing two fingers into you and giving kisses to your thighs as he pumps them.

“Gonna cum soon, Dyl.” You warn him.

Luckily, Dylan knows it means to keep doing what he’s doing. You were close, but the sound of footsteps upstairs followed by a door closing pushed you over the edge, knowing he could very well be going to his room from elsewhere, but hoping he was at the top of the stairs.

Just the possibility of him being at the top pushed you over. “Holy shit.” Dylan mutters, crawling up to you. “Must’ve been riled up, huh.”

“Yeah.” You tell him, suddenly feeling Dylan’s boner poking the inside of your knee. “Mere, I wanna help you.”

“No, I wanna fuck you, let’s go to my room.”

His room…down the hall…where there’s a better chance he could hear you. “Sure!”

Eddie Munson was sure there was something out to get him. The moment your pretty fucking face greeted him in his kitchen when he wondered down fresh from a shower he was sure there was something laughing at this pure misery.

The smile on your face, the smell of your sweet perfume, the way your skirt hugged your hips all melted him into one pot. When you told him you met Dylan at a fucking mixer, he wanted to shoot the person who made you feel like you were worthy of being ogled at by a bunch of singles at an awkward church mixer.

A church mixer.

He hated that Dylan liked them, always said only weirdos go there and was sure Dylan as exaggerating when he expressed how gorgeous and out of his league you were.

His heart freezing at the sight of you sit perched on one of his stools, shyly watching your boyfriend, even only from the back made him wonder if angels were real. Fuck, he didn’t ask for any proof of your beauty when offered to show your Instagram, but he wouldn’t have believed it.

He spent that entire first conversation doing everything he could to be a fucking father figure and remind himself you were dating his son. He was not hitting on you at a bar, he was your boyfriend’s dad.

Somehow that just made the forbidden part about it that much hotter.

He felt like a pervert as the scent of your shampoo jumped out at him when he passed by you for the milk, and he had wanted to stop in place and take a big inhale. Felt like an even bigger pervert as he saw the string of your bikini bottom sitting high on your hip peaking out of your skirt and he just wanted to get a shot of that underskirt.

Every thought he had about you as your wit came through the conversation, he wondered what the hell you were doing with Dylan. He loved his kid, but you deserved better than what he knew his kid would provide.

He knew about Dylan that he’d be a great husband one day. Someone reliable and trustworthy enough to build a life with.

He didn’t want that for you. He wanted you to have something mind-blowing and earth shattering, something intoxicating. Something that made you feel the way he felt just by smelling your goddamn shampoo. Your teeny tiny bikini with your hair up in a messy bun with cute little sunglasses all somehow went to his cock, and he was glad you were called over before he said something even more stupid.

Eddie rolled his eyes at your claim there wasn’t a bigger dating pool, opening his mouth to retort--“Oh, you should’ve told me, we could’ve been almost there by now. Come on, baby! See you dad!”

The door slams, and that concluded the end of that conversation. “Um, you were gonna say something?” you ask him, and he wondered if the intrigue on your face was something he just imagined.

“Oh. Was I? Totally forgot.” Eddie lies. I was gonna say I am proof there is a bigger dating pool than you would believe, sweetheart… but he knew it would’ve said something he couldn’t unsay.

Dylan told him you were coming over for a sleepover, and he and Dylan’s room were only separated by the bathroom. Eddie might use the basement for the night because he didn’t trust his perverted mind not to seek you out and look at what little pjs you have chosen to wear. He gave you space out of respect when you arrived, wondering if it was flirting when you called him Mr. Munson.

Suddenly a noise that Eddie could only describe as the doorbell to heaven (or hell with what his mind was thinking) reached the door he had kept open for this very reason.

He kept his tv playing and sneaked off to the top of the stairs, hoping to catch his kid getting you off while you moaned under the covers. The treat he was given was far better, the hand over your tight ass shorts feeling you up as you leaned back and whined all high pitched. Eddie’s cock was so hard at the moment not touching it would be like self-neglect.

He backed up against the wall by the stairs, listening to your moans as he got you off, desperately wishing it was his fingers in your wet heat. He imagined your scrunched up face as you made those stunning noises, starting to stroke himself. A pause occurs, your blissed out voice asking him to eat you out. He bites back a moan at wanting to taste you, wanting to get all up in those juices and to show him how much you turned him on. He leans over the wall into the stair entry, expecting the blanket to be covering you but instead being met with your pussy on full display.

A low guttural moan escapes his throat, fucking into his fist and pretending it was you bent over for him instead, whining the same exact way. He knew you would have a pretty pussy, but this was just un-fucking fair.

You warn Dylan you were about to cum, and that pushes him over his own edge, and he suddenly has a mess he needs to clean up all over his fist. God he wanted you to clean it, to suck it all up. He was making himself hard again and he had to flee to his fucking bedroom to wash up.

Suddenly the creak of the stairs erupts as he is cleaning himself up, and Dylan’s door closes. Oh. They’re…continuing.

Your moans are suddenly loud, and Eddie finds himself hard again as he realizes he’s hearing you being fucked. Oh, he knew you were a fucking dirty slut.

Just fucking knew it. Something that hasn’t happened since he was in his 20s, but he’s ready to jerk himself off within minutes of just cumming. “Yeah, my whore being fucked open, letting everyone hear how good she feels, oh shit.” Eddie mutters to himself, right next to his door.

He ends up finishing at the same time you did, which didn’t take either one of you very long.

The next morning you wake next to Dylan sleeping with a big smile on his face. To him, that was the best sex you’ve ever had together. Mixed with your adventure at the beach last week, you guys were doing better than ever.

To you, it was only amazing because you kept thinking of Eddie fucking you and it did everything for your core. You get up in the tiny pair of pajamas you had packed, something that barely covered your ass and headed downstairs for some breakfast.

As you were leant down to assess the cereals, you heard the stride of someone come in behind you.

Eddie walks in behind you, holding back a swear as he sees your pussy peaking out of your pajama bottoms. A gentleman, and not knowing you fully reciprocated every horny thought, he ignores it and hopes you sit up.

You don’t, leaning even more forward and making a show of wondering what to eat. Eddie inhales, allowing himself to watch you. You turn around to him jerking his head away, and you felt some pride in getting his attention. “Morning.” You greet him, offering a bowl for him.

He rejects it. “Not hungry.”

“Oh.” You pour cereal, and Eddie focuses on not staring at your beaded nipples peaking through the tiny silk top you wore.

“Fuck.” He whispered, the boner growing.

“Something wrong?” You ask him innocently, and knowing this was working to your benefit made you nervous but eager.

“Lots to do today.” Like jerk off another three times.

“Like what?” You asked, taking a spoonful of cereal even though you had no appetite from the butterflies in your stomach.

“Oh not much.” Eddie wonders to you, and by reaching over you to grab the cereal he wonder if he could sneak a smell from your shampoo.

You sit up as he leans away, and you are so close you can see just how gorgeous he is. God, those brown eyes. “Do you have any…one to do?” You ask, glancing back and forth between his pretty lips and his even prettier eyes. You didn’t even know which ones to focus on.

Eddie leans in a bit to you, just ghosting over your lips. “Are you sure…that you want this?”

You nod, your eyes glazing over in want as the arousal in your gut suddenly exploded into a need.

“Cause…cause if we do this there is no going back. If your pussy…” he inhales sharply, taking a breath of your hair. “is as good as I imagine, there’s no way I’m giving you back.”

This sentence turns you into gelatin, and you lean forward to finally kiss him, his lips rough as he seemingly forgets how to act for a moment.

His brain finally catches up and he grabs onto you, inhaling and messy kisses, and grabby hands all at once as he tries to do everything he’s wanted to. Your hands make their way into his hair, and it was as soft as you pictured it. His lips messily kiss down your jaw onto your neck and you let out a whine. He smiles widely at that. “Good. One I made. Needed that.”

“You heard me…yesterday?” You asked, wetter from the idea of it.

“Heard you? Fucking came to it.” He swears, as he continues an assault on your neck. You moan in response, your hips involuntarily grinding up. “Come on, upstairs.”

You almost wanted to get caught by Dylan, but to keep it going longer you follow Eddie giddily upstairs as he trips over himself and you felt like a goddamn teenager. You follow him into his room, and the curtains were blackout curtains, the lights turned off giving the illusion of everything being dark. “Can we turn on the lights?” You ask, delicately. “I wanna see you.”

Eddie turns on his dimmer switch light so it was low, and the look in his eye as he approaches you sat on his bed had a level of lust in them that drove you wild. He leans in to give you a kiss after sitting right by you, and it wasn’t enough touching for you. You crawl forward as you eagerly kissed him back, straddling his lap. “Fuck, sweetheart, you are fucking gorgeous.” He mutters, the silk pajamas you wore bunching up in his hands as he grabbed at it. “The little strap that peaked out of your skirt tied together was just tempting me to unwrap you like a present.” He huffs, still kissing your neck. You find yourself impatient, wanting his lips back on yours.

“Fuck, been thinkin’ about you on my cock ever…” he inhales your perfume with a deep grunting sigh of content. “ever since.”

You mewl to his confessions, and he’s a much better talker than you could’ve imagined. Your hips start to grind on their own accord and with the little fabric they have between your silk shorts and his thin pajama pants you felt his hard cock fairly easily. You let out a high moan of contentment, and Eddie watches as you grind on his cock and get yourself off so easily. “Oh shit, she’s a dirty slut, hey.” Eddie comments leaning back and watching you grind yourself. “Doesn’t even need a cock inside her, will just take anything I give her with a smile on her face.”

“I would—” you gasp, the material scratching your clit in the best way, “I would take any crumbs, fuck.”

You start to moan higher and grind faster, and Eddie wanted to make you cum by his hands or his mouth the first time but you making yourself cum against his pants meant he was now using this as a fucking cum rag to smell you when you weren’t near. “Take off those shorts, doll. Wanna see your pussy.”

“Ok.” They are yanked off without a second thought.

“Oh, good listener. What a good girl.” He comments petting your hair gently as you continued to grind again with your heat now directly against his pj pants, he could feel it against his cock. “Oh, fuck, you are soaked. My fucking horny slut.”

“Horny for you.” You whimper the edge just right there.

“Whoring herself out for the Munsons.” He comments, sort of bitter he had to hear you fuck his son before he could claim you.

“Pictured it was you.” You admit, your voice in a whisper as you confessed but the high you wanted almost there.

“Fuck, did you?” He asks, the idea you only enjoying it so much because you pictured him.

“Mmhmm. Pictured you watching me, too.”

“Fucking little voyeur.” He whispers, and you nodded. He rewarded you by grabbing your hips and rutting against you and hitting your clit even harder and your orgasm snuck up on you, and the extra attention Eddie pays you as he watches it wash through you only helps the high take longer to recover from.

“Oh my god.” You whisper, a last of the intense orgasm still running through you.

“Not done.” Eddie whispers, a big smirk on his face. He lightly pushes you down and grabs your legs and puts them over his shoulder. You watch him carefully, his face looking at your pussy at a way that would usually resolve in embarrassment. Instead, it only turned you on more because it meant he wanted you just as much.

He dives into your pussy with a level of expertise that only came from years of pleasuring women. You don’t know why but you knew he got off to pleasuring others from the moment you saw him and every moan you let out he absorbed it, getting better and better as your verbal ques direct him. The heat in your pussy intensifies as he continues, fucking two of his fingers into you.

You place your hands in his hair, grinding up when the feeling of wanting to be fucked takes over you. “No, patience baby. I need to see what you look like when you squirt.”

“I-I can’t—”

“Every woman can, sweetheart. Just means you’ve had no one show you yet. Feel that?” He asks you, the heat in your pussy expanding as he continued to attack your clit and finger fuck you.

You nod, the feeling in your gut like a tidal wave of pleasure.

“Focus on it.” You do, and as you do you look up at his eyes, already staring into yours as he assesses your reactions. The heat intensifies by a thousand, and the feeling of wanting to…pee…takes over.

“Fuck—” you start to protest.

“Let it happen. Let go. It’ll feel so fucking good…baby let go. Gonna feel so fucking good.” You trust him so you let go and a gush invades your ear as a red-hot pleasure makes home in your pussy. “One more?” Eddie asks you, his thumb now messaging your clit.

You twitch under him, your bud being so sensitive. “Oh fuck, Ed. Too much.”

“No, I think you can cum again. Wanna see that beautiful face all scrunched up. Wanna take a photo.” He holds out his phone casually, and your face heats up. “Not feeling all the sudden shy, are ya? You whored your little pussy for me how is this different?”

“Its…” you manage out, already close again. “Its hot.”

“She gonna cum again, all over my fingers?”

“All over your fingers.”

“You gonna lick em clean?”

“Can we share?”

Eddie groans audibly, titling his head back. “Of course, doll. Of fucking course, now cum all over them, please.”

The third orgasm takes over your body, and it’s so goddamn good you stop responding for a minute which causes Eddie to panic. “Oh shit, you okay?”

Giggles burst out of you, the kind of post orgasm giggles you’ve only read about in spicy novels. You thought they were fake. “Can I suck you off now?”

Eddie’s eyes bulge, and he realizes his hand is still on your pussy. He taps it lightly, causing you to whine. He lifts the finger first, inserting it into your mouth. “Suck this first.” You wrap your tongue around it, keeping eye contact as you taste yourself, and this is the only time it’s ever been truly hot to be able to taste yourself. Other times it was just perplexing.

Eddie takes the other finger when you let go and starts sucking on it, he closes his eye, enjoying the taste of your pussy on his tongue. Eddie crawls onto his bed and you basically pounce him, yanking his pj pants down as fast as they go, wanting to see his cock. His eyes watch you, blown and enwrapped in lust as he watches your eagerness.

As his cock pops out of his pants, an involuntary smile spreads across your face. The head to his cock was so pink, he must’ve been horny. “Oh, pretty cock.” You mutter, and he wasn’t even sure if you were saying to him or just saying it out loud. “Oh my god, look how pink your head is. Mmm..sure seem like you need some attention.”

You take the head of his cock into your mouth, sucking on it alone but getting used to his girth. Holy he was gonna hurt even with how wet you were. You start sucking on it, taking bit by bit more into your mouth each time, eagerly making sloppy spit sounds as you did so. It wasn’t hard to generate the spit you needed, the sight of his dick made your mouth water.

Your head bobbed up and down on it, illicit sounds being drawn out of him, only encouraging you more as the feeling of his rings harsh against your scalp making you wet. You pop off him, spit connected from your mouth to his dick. You lean forward to his treasure trail, licking the hair and biting at it, something you’ve wanted to do since you saw him. You find your way back down and passed his cock and he’s about to ask when take one of his balls into your mouth, sucking loudly.

“Oh fuck, do you know how to use that pretty little mouth. Holy shit.” You roam over it with your tongue, sucking it in and out repeatedly. Then you move on to the next one, giving it its own show as well. Your mouth moves back to suck on his cock but he tugs on your hair to bring him up to you.

“Want you to face fuck me.” You say to him, still not done sucking on his cock.

“Nother time. Lemme fuck you.” He mutters, tugging on the shirt you still wore. You crawl back up to straddle him, nothing between his cock and your pussy now, but he places his cock on it so the shaft slides in-between your folds, teasing you, and causing you to whine. “Oh shit.” He works on the buttons holding your silky pink shirt, the skilled hands working fast through each one. As each one reveals another inch of skin, he feels more intoxicated by you, especially how you’re begging him to put his cock in. Your tits fall out of the shirt, and he rips the back off you, and you let it fall to the floor. You grab onto his band shirt, attempting to move it off him. You barely do it, the feeling of his cock so close inside you causing your focus to fall apart in seconds. He laughs, nearly cruel, yanking the shirt off, revealing more tattoos you’ve never seen. Your hands flutter to his chest, moving to each tattoo and touching every inch you can.

Your mission to focus and analyze each tattoo is interrupted by him maneuvering you onto your back. You lay there, open and ready for him. “Holy shit, fucking smoking hot.” He mutters, like he couldn’t believe you were here with him.

It was you who was the lucky one, he was crazy.

“You’re hotter.” You mutter, as he starts to align his cock with your entrance. “Thought of you last night, made myself cum so hard.”

“Oh fuck. What was I doing?” He asks, still teasing you with it.

“Just watching me finger myself. Talking me through it. Calling me a whore.” He groans, tapping his cock on it. “Please, Ed need your cock.”

“Beg for it, you fucking slut.” He whispers, something taking over him.

“Please, daddy. Want your cock. Want you to fuck me like a ragdoll. Please, pretty please fuck me until I’m a puddle. I just want your cock in me, so fucking bad.”

“Gonna be a good slut for me?”

“Yes..I will I promise.”

He chuckles darkly and finally…finally moves into you. Your eyes cross and a moan so erotic leaves your body and you had barely a single ounce of control over that left your mouth at that point.

Eddie puts his head into your neck, feeling your head tighten around him in pleasure as you got used to his girth and length.

“Move…please?”

“Thought you were gonna take the crumbs I gave you, slut.” He mutters.

“Fuck. Sorry.”

He smiles and your fingers fidgeting at your sides were a dead giveaway you were just needy for him to move. It made him feel fucking powerful just his cock could make you feel like this. He starts rocking, slowly and you whine from this resolve alone. “Oh what a fucking whore, just needed a good fucking.” He mutters into your ear, his hand finding its way to your neck. “Putting her pussy on display for me, showing she just needed someone to know how to fuck her.”

You say nothing in response, and his hips are starting to rock against yours harder. Your eyes reach the back of your head as you lose air, but you revel in the feeling of nearly passing out as he takes his hand off. “Holy shit, you really are just a whore.”

You nod, eyes half lidded as you looked up at his pussy drunk eyes. “Little…cockdrunk…slut…” he inhales sharply and a wad of spit hits your face and you find yourself opening your mouth for more. “Fuck—” his hips stutter at the sight of your smile when his saliva hits your mouth. He spits right into it as you open for more and you act like it’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted, cause it was.

Your tongue pokes out, gasping in more need. His hips are against yours so harshly you would’ve been afraid of bruising if it didn’t fucking turn you on so bad.

“Fucking slut, you want me to cum in you? Wanna be filled with my fucking cum?” You nod, too cocked out to speak, you’ve never felt this good from penetration alone before. “Cum with me, doll.” He mutters using his two fingers against your clit as he leans in to kiss you. Within moments you flutter around him, moaning into his mouth and he lets go of your kiss, stuttering his hips and letting out a loud moan as you feel him fill you up.

His body weight collapses ontop of you, and his hands are suddenly gentle as they sweep at your bangs sticking to your sweaty forehead. “Fuck.” He mutters, giving you a dazed-out look of pure adoration. “That was much better than anything I came up with.”

You nod in agreement, words still not coming to your mouth.

“You were such a good girl, yeah?” You smile, a heat coming up to your cheeks. “You listened to me so well. C’mere.” He wraps your lips in a kiss, his cock still in you, still hard and keeping all his cum in you.

“C-can we stay like this?” You ask timidly, not wanting his cock to leave yet.

“Ooh, baby wants to cock-warm? Sure. Wanna turn on a movie until 9, when Dylan usually wakes?” Eddie asks, already leaning towards the channel changer on his beside table.

Having to tell Dylan it was pretty much over the moment Eddie kissed you hadn’t even crossed your mind, and it would eventually twenty minutes into the movie when you got back to earth. Eddie knew the realization would kick in eventually so he let you watch a movie of your choice, sitting up on his bed with you straddled on his lap after a bit of maneuvering so you could both see the movie on his screen adjacent to his bed.

Eventually, Dylan was gonna wake.

Eventually, a storm would hit.

But for now, Eddie stayed inside you to pretend like it wasn’t over yet.

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