#wanna drink the mystery liquid

[magioffire]

Untouched cavern that developed its crystalline-like walls over tens of thousands of years, discovered in the Lechuguilla cave within Carlsbad Caverns National Park, New Mexico.

[kutyaharapas]

figured out how to give aromo more water

[urhoneycombwitch]

I know what they call you.

You’re a little lost in your head. Eddie wants to find you. shy!reader

foreword: The healing properties of good head <333 Anyways I labeled this R “shy” but she’s more… introverted? Reserved? this one goes out to the weird and off-putting girlies who have a lot to say but are kinda quiet instead. Timeline may be a bit wibbly but designed it to be early 4th-season era, with R (early 20s) having played an undetermined part in the various Upside Down battles from seasons previous. Loosely based on this anon every1 say thank you anon!

cw: alcohol/weed used as a social crutch, R is hassled by a guy at a party (but her boys back her up), brief vomit mention, implied bad home life for R, light SH by way of tight grip, PTSD, R has breasts+V, praise kink, oral (R receiving), one (1) spank, multiple orgasms (R), soft dom!eddie, overstim, coming in pants (E)

wc: 11k

It’s spring break, 1986, and you’re cursing the name of your so-called “best friend” Robin Buckley.

You didn’t even want to go to this stupid kegger in the first place, arguing with her the whole ride over from Steve’s backseat.

“Don’t you think it’s totally lame that you’re basically being chaperoned by two gap-year losers?” you’d said, leaning forward to rest your elbows on the console, seatbelt pulling taut across your Rolling Stones tee. “You’re a big girl, Robin, you don’t need Steve and me to babysit you anymore.”

Robin began protesting but Steve interrupted, tapping at your forearms without looking away from the road- “Sit back, wouldja, that’s not safe. And for the record, it’d only be lame if we were, like, thirty and still going to high school kickbacks. Gap-year drinking parties are a rite of passage.”

You’d sat back against your seat with a huff, arms crossed, unconvinced until Robin turned those big pleading eyes your way over the back of her seat. “You wanna talk about lame? Lame is me getting anywhere within a 60-foot radius of Vickie. I am totally hopeless around that absolute beauty.”

She’d twisted in her seat and reached for your hand, and you gave it to her grudgingly (the two of you ignoring another of Steve’s gripe about vehicular safety) as she said, “You’re like, the best wingwoman I’ve ever met. Please come to the party and help me avoid the natural disaster that is me running my mouth.”

Robin wasn’t just being generous- you were a killer third wheel. Especially when alcohol was involved: the walls that you naturally upheld around your introverted demeanor by day turned liquid as whiskey by night, often scoring you major cool points with your friends for things you barely remembered doing the day after. 

So you’d relented, and in turn resolved to get as drunk as possible as quickly as possible (in the name of Robin’s aid, of course), but turns out your best friend didn’t even need your help in the first place; within 5 minutes of setting foot in the crammed house party Robin won a spot right next to Vickie on the living room couch, starry-eyed gaze saved only for the redhead that bore no room for your intervention.

Three shots ago, the situation would have struck you as funny, but it’s been a lonely time (what with Steve abandoning you, too, in favor of chatting up some college blonde); drifting from packed room to packed room, sneakers sticking to the floorboards, winding through throngs of sweaty dancing students just to keep on top of your alcohol consumption.

Kind of like hunting in the wild, you muse, leaned against a wall with red solo cup in hand. Flirt with Amy Thacker and her low-cut blouse to access the watering hole (Mystery Punch, green both in color and flavor); let Lenny Baker put his paws on your waist to gain entry to the standing liquor cabinet. The stuff of nature docs.

If this dimly-lit Hawkins party is the savanna, then you are the antelope- grazing on snacks, never staying in one spot for too long, minding your own business and staying way the hell away from the lion’s den (the group of jocks in Hawkins Tigers polos).

Unfortunately, you push off the wall in search of a refill at the same time Lenny Baker decides to sidle up to you, nearly knocking the cup from your grasp when he bends his thick head to shout in your ear above the music. 

“Great party, right?” His arms are crossed above his tank of a chest, blocking you from a smooth exit via the kitchen archway.

“If you’re into drunk teens, I guess,” you say back, pointedly, licking a stripe up your wrist from where the punch had sloshed onto your bare arm. 

When you look back up Lenny’s still standing there, watching you with a hungry edge that’s starting to make your well-honed antelope-sense tingle. As you not-so-subtly cast your glance around for Steve, Lenny leans in again, close enough to give you a sour whiff of his breath. “I’m legal, if that’s what’s got your panties in a twist. And what’s wrong with having some fun?”

“I’m not into having fun with douchebags who ‘roid away their remaining brain cells to bully my friends,” you retort, flatly. You doubt this guy knows you’re connected to the Hellfire group (de facto sitter, second only to Steve), but the insult seems to land anyways. 

Lenny scoffs, going for a low blow to offset the sting of his bruised ego- “If you’re trying to play the part of slut, you were doing a way better job earlier.”

What the meathead hasn’t picked up on yet is your absolute lack of care about him- or anyone else at this stupid fucking party, for that matter. Besides Robin and Steve, obviously, but they’re equally indisposed at the moment. You’re feeling bold enough that you could play dirty: throw the dregs of your drink in his face, make a real scene- but the shots from earlier are hitting you sideways and you’re not entirely confident in your ability to multitask. 

So instead, with a wink, you tell him, “At least this slut knows when to quit,” and turn on your heel, abandoning the kitchen escape route for a closer door that leads to the back porch.

You suck in lungfuls of cool night air, trying to clear the fuzz of booze from your vision. When you don’t hear any angry footsteps following in your wake, you sink against the wooden bannister and tip back the last of your drink in one swallow. Maybe Steve doubled back to the car…?

With your empty cup left neatly on the railing, you set off down the couple of steps that separate you from the grass, except the toe of your shoe catches on a hidden groove in the wood, and nothing is within reach to grab onto as you trip and begin to fall.

The stumble should have ended with you facedown in the dirt, but something- someone- solid breaks your downward path, catching the upper half of your body in a sturdy hold even as your legs twist around themselves.

“Whoa, whoa, hey, I gotcha. You okay?”

The voice is instantly familiar, one that you’ve heard ringing out from underneath the drama room door on countless occasions as you’ve waited on your various child wards to wrap up their D&D sessions.

Eddie Munson is holding you in his leather-clad arms, larger than life with that big cloud of hair and doe-eyed gaze matching yours. He helps you stand, properly, dropping his hands once you’re stabilized and taking the warmth of his palms with him. 

“You okay?” he asks again, tilting his head, looking at you with fresh concern from under that mop of bangs. “Looks like you had a lot to drink.”

“Thanks, Dad,” you drawl, bravado flooding back in. “Am I really gonna get a fucking lecture on drinking from my local drug dealer?”

Instead of rising to the bait or bristling at your tone, Eddie grins- delighted, wolfish- before letting out a low whistle. “Who coulda guessed: resident Shy Girl has a mouth on her.”

You twist said mouth into your own smile, one that you hope is coy and charming and not dorkily lopsided (because you stopped being able to feel your face after that last drink), and coo, “You thinkin’ about my mouth, Munson?”

He laughs- a full, vibrant sound that lights up the night. There’s a flutter in your ribcage, knocking up a frenzy at the noise, like it wants to get out and at him, but you tamp it down and play it cool.

“You’ve only seen me in the cold, unforgiving light of day,” you continue, as Eddie rifles through his pockets, surfacing with a pack of cigs, eye contact yet to be broken. “My nighttime alter ego is a real riot, all liquored up.”

“Well, I happen to think you’re a riot in the sober light of day, too.” Eddie shrugs a shoulder as he flips the lid of the cigarette box.

You’re unsure if he’s messing with you- he’s gotta be, right? The only meaningful interaction you two have had in the past handful of years has been through the courtesy of the children in your respective care- a few surface-level conversations during carpool pickup, some flirting on his end that you’ve always been too skittish to return. 

Well, until now, you guess. Maybe this is a good thing, him seeing you like this- it’ll either scare him away, or you’ll finally make good on the quiet crush you’ve been harboring.

You’re about to speak again when the porch door opens with a bang; you and Eddie swivel at the same time to see Lenny clomping noisily towards the steps, voice booming out over the thrum of bass back inside- “This freak bothering you?”

You look between the metalhead and the jock, eyes wide and mocking as you call back, “No, but you’re starting to!”

“Jesus, talk about poking the bear,” you hear Eddie mutter behind you, but your focus is taken up by the fact that Lenny is tromping down the steps and reaching out to grab your upper arm, his cold and clammy palm taking up a sizeable amount of space.

You can feel that rage, simmering and easily accessed, start to crawl over your skin. You stand your ground in the face of someone much larger than you, sneakers planted firmly, chin tilted in defiance- I’ve killed monsters in alternate dimensions, asswipe. You might’ve scared me back in high school but now I dare you to fuck with me. 

Before Eddie can jump to your defense, you’re already going in for the bite, voice dripping with derisiveness. “So glad your right hand found its way off your dick for a change, Len. How about you do me one better and take it far, far away from here?”

Lenny’s face is almost purple with anger as his grip tightens, and you feel Eddie moving in at your back- to do what exactly, hard to say, ‘cuz Lenny’s got about 60 pounds on the lanky DM- but just as fast as the tension has ramped up, it gets diffused with the arrival of one Steve Harrington from around the corner of the house.

He cuts a smooth path through the grass to your other side, Robin’s sweater slung over one arm, twirling his car keys in neat loops around his finger, boasting a casual demeanor that doesn’t match up with the steely look he’s giving Lenny. “You heard the girl, Baker. Time to am-scray.”

Whether it’s the rumors of Steve’s nail bat or the manic look in your eyes or the fact that he’s outnumbered, Lenny’s got plenty of reason now to drop your arm. 

Which he does, spitting one last “bitch” at you before hulking off into the night.

The anger in you recedes like a wave. You breathe out a dry laugh, then turn back to the boys, clasping your hands over your heart with faux-dopeyness. “My heroes. How will I ever repay you?”

“Shutting up, for a change, would be a great start,” Steve grouses over the sound of Eddie’s cackles.

“Holy shit. Can’t believe your girl’s feistiness almost landed me in the hospital.” Eddie shakes his head, plucking a cigarette out and sticking it between his plush lips.

“She’s not my girl,” Steve says, even as you wind your arms around his chest from behind, tucking your chin over his shoulder. “She is, unfortunately, my problem.”

“I love when you two talk about me like I’m not here.” You simper at Eddie from your draped position.

He’s watching you with a fondness that feels overly familiar, through the haze of smoke streaming from his nostrils as you pat the chest beneath your hands- “Don’t worry about ol’ Stevie boy. He’s turned into quite the good guard dog after the whole Russian mall takeover last year.”

“Aaaaand that’s enough talking from you,” Steve says firmly, twisting out of your arms and putting his own around your waist. “Say goodbye to your new buddy, we’ve got a Robin to collect.”

As Steve steers you towards the direction of his car you wave at Eddie, a motion that he returns, his rings glinting in the porch light.

“Christ, you really are somethin’ else with some drinks in you,'' Steve fusses, helping you into the backseat, hand shooting up to block the door frame before your head can collide with the metal. “Did you seriously have to bring up the Russians?”

“He probably thought it was a joke, Steve,” you say, exasperated and fighting the twisted middle seatbelt with uncoordinated hands. “You know… those things that you tell people when you wanna get in their pants?”

The crack was aimed at Steve’s recent string of strike-outs in the dating department, but he throws it back at you. “You’re trying to get in Eddie Munson’s pants?”

“No,” you sputter, indignant and feeling suddenly too hot. 

Steve knocks your still-struggling hands from the belt, clicking you in himself, before pointing an accusatory finger in your face. “Stay here while I get Robin, and no throwing up in the Beemer.”

He shuts the door, Robin’s sweatshirt hanging from one shoulder while he stalks back into the house. 

You let your head fall back against the seat and close your eyes, bright cherry embers of cigarettes between lush-lipped curves dancing behind the dark of your lids. 

___

You manage to avoid throwing up in the BMW, saving the worst of it for the downstairs toilet of the Harrington house after Steve drags you and Robin indoors. Once your body is purged of the spirits, you collapse into your usual side of the guest bed, sweaty and exhausted, murmuring an apology to Robin who squeaks at the rocking movement of the mattress. In a few minutes, you’re lulled to sleep by the gentle snores of your best friend.

The morning sun is a very rude awakening, Robin apparently having forgotten to close the blinds before leaving with Steve for their shifts at Family Video. There’s a full glass of water on the bedside table and a few loose Tylenol tablets, the word “DRINK” sprawled on a sticky note in Steve’s handwriting.

You wince, down the meds along with half the water, and start the search for your sneakers.

When you’d signed up to protect a bunch of teens at the end of the world awhile back, it had seemed like a one-time gig. But now, here you were a few years later, loading yourself into your curb-parked junker to willingly cart around the same kids.

While wearing yesterday’s clothes. Even with the sprays of cologne that you’d stolen from Steve’s dresser, you’re pretty sure you’ll be fooling no one.

Evidenced by your first stop in east Hawkins for Dustin Henderson, who clambers into the front seat with a scathing appraisal. “Rough night?”

“You could say that,” you reply, shifting the gear to drive and grimacing at the subsequent squeal of metal that pierces into your left temple. “Learn from my mistakes as a washed-up twenty-something and cool it on the teen drinking, all right?”

“Washed up though you may be,” Dustin intones sagely, digging through his backpack and producing two brown-paper bundles, “you are now one Claudia Henderson Breakfast Sandwich Deluxe richer.”

You take the proffered sandwich gratefully, steering with one hand to peel back the oil-stained paper from the still-warm bread. “God. Is your mom looking to adopt?”

“She’s kind of got the perfect child already, but I’ll keep my ear to the ground for ya,” Dustin says around a mouthful of cheese and egg.

The solid breakfast helps your stomach ease back into a place of normality, but with your next stop adding two more kids to the mix, the rowdy bickering that follows puts that Tylenol to work.

“You’re an idiot,” Max is saying to Lucas over the sound of his indignation in the back seat. “You seriously think Indiana Jones would win against Supergirl? She can shapeshift, and she has heat vision.”

“All I’m saying is, it’s really hard to see a whip coming.” Lucas is stretching the limits of his seatbelt in his earnestness to get his girlfriend on his side.

It doesn’t work- Max rolls her eyes and taps at your shoulder. “Help me out here. His logic is totally shit, right?”

Making a turn onto the main road, you nod your assent without looking back. “I think you should listen to your very smart girlfriend, Lucas.”

Max makes a triumphant “hah”, and Dustin adds fuel to the argument’s fire when he drags in some other comic book character that you’ve never heard of. 

You hazard a glance in your rear-view mirror at Max, who’s too busy dishing out an enthusiastic rebuttal to notice. Her auburn braids swing with the movement of the car, and you wonder if they were done by her mother before work or if Max had to rely on her own hair expertise again. 

You’ve got a real soft spot for Max, always have. While you both have plenty of cause to bond over shitty home lives, it’s also Max’s brash and defiant attitude that drew you to her. She’s got the bravery you can only hope for, something that you are sure to tell her frequently, even though the compliment is hard for her to take.

You score a parking spot that’s right in front of the arcade, calling after the kids already scrambling out of your car that you want to leave at noon, sharp. They all give some form of distracted acknowledgement before disappearing into the building, so you figure the earliest you'll be getting out of here is noon-thirty. 

Not like you have much to do today, anyways, besides bother Steve and Robin at work- since the arcade is conveniently located right next to Family Video, it’s a perfect excuse to wait out the kids’ spring break activities in the company of your nearest and dearest.

You’re cutting a swift track up the sidewalk when you nearly collide with Eddie Munson, for the second time in less than 24 hours.

“Hey!” He beams at you, a wide, easy thing that fits on his face so well, like it was made to be there, boyish dimples digging in. “Long time no see.”

“Yeah,” you agree, trying to smile back but probably landing somewhere in the grimace region as memories of last night float to the forefront of your mind. Small talk. You can do it. Say something. “Um. Were you getting a movie?”

“Nah.” Eddie shakes his head, hooks a thumb at the Family Video doors behind himself. “Keith’s one of my regulars. That guy might actually smoke more weed than me.”

You hum mildly to show you’re still paying attention but really you’re looking at Eddie’s hair, dark curls that shift with each of his movements. His hair isn’t black, like you’ve been led to believe this whole time- with the morning light shining through, highlighting the halo frizz around the edges, it’s actually a deep, chocolatey brown.

Similar to his eyes. Which are trained on you. Because you haven’t talked in a weird amount of time and are now just openly ogling his hair. 

Before you can open your mouth to apologize Eddie asks, “You wanna smoke?”

You nod, perhaps a tad too enthusiastically, and then stretch on your tiptoes to peer around Eddie’s frame at the Family Video sign. “Yeah, but we gotta be fast unless you want the Wonder Twins joining us.”

His grin slips into a smirk, and he winks before taking your hand in his. “A quickie, then.”

That fluttering thing in your ribs is back. The metal of Eddie’s rings are cool against your palm as he leads you around the side of the building, dropping your hand once you both are leaned up against the red brick.

Trying not to outright stare again, you watch from the fringes of your vision as Eddie lights up and breathes a cloud of smoke into the air. His nails are painted black- they weren’t last night. An image of him- hunched over a kitchen table, tongue sticking out of those pillowy lips in concentration, a nail polish brush held in his long fingers- flits across your mind.

Eddie holds the cigarette out, filter-side towards you, and you shake your head lightly. “No thanks. I don’t actually smoke, I just wanted to talk to you.”

Eddie glows. Before he gets the wrong idea you start explaining, arms crossing tight over your chest in unconscious defense- “I wanted to talk about last night. And say I’m sorry. I’m not usually so…”

“Badass? Charming? Hot?” Eddie fills in when you trail off, taking in another deep drag of smoke. 

Christ. You feel heat rushing from head to toe as you ward off his flattery, nails nipping into your upper arms. “I was gonna say… talkative? I guess? I’m normally not one to pick fights, but Lenny was being a dick and I don’t like the way he treats the kids, or you, for that matter, and I was drunk and mouthy but that’s not an excuse to drag you into it and I’m sorry-”

“Hey, hey.” Eddie’s tone is soothing, low, cutting smoothly into your feverish confession. He reaches out and strokes the back of his knuckle across your hand, tiny half-moons from your nails leaving their impression as you soften your grasp on yourself.

He doesn’t seem to mind that you can’t look anywhere but at your sneakers planted in the gravel as he says, “You have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart. I’m a big boy, I can handle myself when it comes to dickwads like Lenny Baker. And I would say that rescuing fair maidens is part of my job description, but…”

Eddie stubs the half-smoked cigarette out against the brick, flicks it to the ground, and waits until you look up at him again before saying “You don’t seem like you’re in need of any saving.”

That flutter, again, as you hold his eye contact for as long as you can stand it. 

The corner of his mouth quirks up. “There she is.”

Mortified, you resist the urge to scream into your hands as you push off from the brick, instead squeezing them into fists at your sides. “Oh-kay. Well. I better head inside or Robin will send out the search party for me.”

Eddie lets you walk past him, but just before you turn the corner he says, “I’m across from the Mayfields in Forest Hills if you ever want some company. Or some good weed.”

Footfalls from his thick-heeled boots recede into the distance, and you take a minute to calm your breathing before pushing your way through the doors of Family Video.

Steve’s stocking a shelf of New Releases at the front of the store, vest-clad torso faced away as the bell above the door signals your entrance. On autopilot he monologues, “Welcome to Family Video, let us know how we can be of service.”

“Aw, I miss the days when you were forced to say Ahoy, mateys!” You tease, Steve turning to give you an irritated frown as you prop your hip against the register counter.

Robin clacks away on the computer, hitting the Enter key a little harder than necessary as she says, “You’re about one mall fire and a bajillion NDA’s too late to ever hear that shit again.”

Keith must be lurking around in the back office, ‘cuz the three of you only refer to last year’s cataclysmic series of events as a “mall fire” when you’re talking in code. 

Or if you’re trying to be funny. But based on the dark circles under Robin’s eyes and the harried way Steve’s shoving a hand through his hair as he drifts towards the counter, you surmise that the three of you are very much on the same page this morning with regards to humor and hijinks.

“I didn’t know it was possible to be this hungover,” Robin groans, sinking her hand into a torn-open Skittles bag and popping a handful into her mouth. “Sugar is supposed to help, right?”

You snort, fiddling with a stack of paper brochures as Steve leans against the counter. 

“Had any more run-ins with the town riffraff?” He asks, feigning casual, honey-colored eyes roaming around the shop.

“I’m visiting you, aren’t I?” You shoot back, unreasonably defensive. 

“Another point for the pretty lady, and Harrington strikes a zero,” Robin totals in her best sports broadcasting voice. “What the hell are you talking about, Steve?”

“Drinky McGee over here was spilling her guts last night to none other than Edward Munson,” Steve replies, looking satisfied when Robin’s eyes bug dramatically.

“Eddie?” Robin hops off the stool, sliding her hands from the other side of the counter to stop your own from ripping the brochures to shreds. “And what, pray tell, were you spilling about with Eddie Muson?”

“Nothing.” You pull your hands from Robin’s, rolling your eyes as if the stakes are low, when in fact the stakes are as tall as the Empire State Building. You can practically hear the wind whistling from this height. “I wasn’t… we barely talked. He was backing me up when some jock started messing with me. That’s all.”

Robin whirls on Steve with animosity- “You left her alone long enough for some meathead to get involved? Jesus, Steve, the hell is wrong with you?”

“Like you shacking up with Vickie after two Tears for Fears tracks is any more responsible!” Steve snaps.

Having spent enough time with both your friends to know their propensity towards petty arguments, you slap a hand against the counter to derail. “Hey! Both of you knock it off. It’s fine, I’m fine, we survived yet another night out on the town unscathed. Let’s just… drop it.”

Steve looks properly chastised, but Robin gets a glint in her eye that confirms she’s not thrown off the scent so easily. 

“You know what they call him, right?” she asks you, lowering her raspy voice even further.

“Eddie The Freak Munson,” Steve supplies, but shrinks noticeably when Robin gives him a withering look. “...not that, then?”

“Of course you, Steve The Hair Harrington, would only know him by that name.” Robin shakes her head, disapproving, before turning back to you with a wicked grin. “Word on the street holds Eddie The Munch Munson in very high regard.”

Steve scoffs at this, but you blink, uncomprehending.  “Munch, like… he eats a lot of food?”

You feel very suddenly and violently ganged up on when Steve and Robin give you mirrored quizzical looks.

“No, babe,” Robin says, slowly. “Munch as in he eats pussy.”

“Jesus christ.” Heat courses through you as you scan the empty store, even as Steve chuckles and says, “You really are a prude.”

A skittle sails airborne into the side of his temple and he flinches, Robin coming to your aid. “That’s no way to talk to a lady, Steven.”

“I’m so not a prude.” You’re quick to jump to your own defense. “I just… didn’t know what that meant.”

You’d had a boyfriend for 6 months your sophomore year of high school, Ben- nice enough guy, but you’d mostly dated as an excuse to get all your firsts out of the way. Some laid-back hookups have occurred since then- it’s not like you’ve been chaste all these years, for fuck’s sake.

But you certainly wouldn’t give any of those boys a prize-winning nickname for their ability to eat you out. 

“It’s all baseless gossip, right?” Steve grabs a nearby wheeled cart and pushes it to the New Releases, resuming his shelf stocking. “I mean, what the hell else are small-townies good for other than trading lies like baseball cards.”

“I dunno,” Robin says, thoughtfully, sucking at her front teeth. “If the token lesbian is hearing about it, then he’s gotta be some sort of sex god.”

Steve’s making a snarky comeback, but you can’t hear him over the whistling in your ears.

You stare blankly out at the parking lot, one hand absently crunching at a brochure, trying really hard to think of anything but those plush lips and all the places you want them. 

____

Ever since the events of last year ripped a hole in your found family’s world, you make it a weekly habit to visit Max.

You’re always armed with some excuse- made too much pasta, please take it off my hands and put this tupperware in your fridge; I was on my way to the thrift store and thought I’d stop by, wanna come with and help me pick out some new jeans?- so that it’s harder for Max to deny your company. Slowly, over the last handful of months, by way of secondhand book offerings and slices of leftover pizza, Max has let her guard down enough to let you in. 

Even on days like today, when her demeanor suggests active disdain (calling you “mom” with a caustic bite when you ask after her last meal, rolling her eyes when she finds you doing the leftover sink dishes), you don’t take it personal. Her coldness towards little acts of kindness is due to the shitty way other people have failed her. And plus, you’ve put in enough effort to be able to see the warm side of Max Mayfield.

Like now, for instance- she’s giving you a bone-crushing hug on your way out, freshly-braided hair pressed tight to your sternum as you hug her back and sway in the doorway. The hug is quick and fierce, over in seconds as she slips back into practiced indifference

“Stay out of trouble this week and I’ll buy you a pony,” you joke as she pulls away, and the smile that she cracks makes it all worth it. 

“Make it a racehorse and you’ve got yourself a deal,” she says, giving you a small wave before closing her front door.

You walk down the dirt path to your parked car, keys in hand. Tonight’s schedule is that of a responsible, sensible young adult- the classified ads on your desk at home need trawling through, and a laundry pile the size of Hoosier Hill waits expectantly on your floor.

But there’s this crawling under your skin, a feeling that tends to flare up every so often, a craving for some sort of release gnawing at the edges. Usually the cure is sad music and masturbation, or some of Steve’s parents’ wine and a cheesy romcom. 

Or weed. That tends to work, too.

You’re shoving your keys into the pocket of your denim jacket and walking across the way to Eddie’s trailer before you lose your nerve, scuffing your sneakers against his porch while you knock.

He looks surprised to see you, dark brows raised, leaning into the palm he’s got on the doorframe- “Oh shit. Hi.”

“Hi,” you reply, tracking one foot up the back of your calf, feeling timid under his gaze. “Do you… can I buy some weed?”

When he nods, you duck under his arm and drop to one knee on the carpeted floor to untie your laces.

“Shit, sweetheart, don’t go to all that trouble.” He lets the door close, enveloping you both in the moody lighting of his trailer. There’s a radio playing the local rock station dimly from one of the bedrooms, and as you toe off your shoes you notice a gleaming black guitar leaned upright against the couch.

“Do you play?” You drift over on sock feet to gently brush across the strings, a faint and discordant noise rising and fading underneath your fingertips.

“Yeah.” Eddie’s voice comes from just over your shoulder as he watches your gentle fingers on his prized possession. “I’m in a band, actually. You should come see us play sometime.”

“That’s cool,” you say earnestly. “I remember when you got in trouble for that talent show performance- your band was totally swindled out of first place, if you ask me.”

When he doesn’t respond right away, you hazard a look at him over your shoulder and find him staring at you again, something you’re still not used to, giggling out a little “What?” as his eyes stay on your face.

“You’re pretty, that’s all.” The Dio logo on the front of his tee ripples when he shrugs a shoulder. As if he knew it would embarrass you, he leaves no room for your disagreement, turning away into the kitchen, stretching tall for the metal lunchbox on the top of his fridge.

His shirt lifts with the stretch, a flash of stomach lined with a trail of dark hair that makes you swallow back the gathering saliva in your mouth. 

“So, weed,” he’s saying as he pops the lid on the box, shaking out a small bag of fuzzy-looking green clumps. “I can set you up with a couple of days’ worth, if you want.”

“That sounds good,” you reply, mustering courage to drift to Eddie’s side, pretending to assess the baggie he’s holding, committing to memory the way his long fingers deftly pluck apart bud from stem. “That way I can come back and buy more.”

His fingers pause, halfway to the metal grinder nestled in the lunchbox as he says, “You know, you don’t need to use weed as an excuse to come see me. I think we’ve already established I like lookin’ at ya, so you’d be doing me a favor if you came by more. Just to hang out.”

This offer sits between you as he grinds the weed down, then tips a stripe of it neatly across some rolling paper. His dexterous fingers pinch and tuck until a joint takes shape, a small strip of the paper poking out.

He holds it to your lips, brown eyes shimmering with warmth as he waits. 

A Stevie Nicks song starts up on the radio, muffled by the trailer walls but crooning through all the same. This close to Eddie for the first time, you can smell him- balmy and spicy, like bergamot and Irish Spring. 

You lean into the joint, licking across the paper in one unbroken motion. Your tongue catches on Eddie’s thumb when you pull away, and there’s a salt-warm taste that settles in your mouth.

“Good girl,” he says, in that low-toned voice, and you have to fight to keep your thighs from pressing together in your jeans.

“Wanna smoke here?” Eddie smooths the spit-damp end of the joint down, giving the end a twist. “Good way to test out the merchandise. First one’s free.”

You shake your head as he extends the joint- “I’m definitely paying you, Eddie. And no, I can’t smoke here.” With you being the unspoken addition to that sentence. 

“Aw, shucks, sweetheart,” he drawls, devilish grin creeping back in, “You don’t trust me?”

“It’s not you I don’t trust,” you admit, before you can stop yourself.

His brows shoot up again, then waggle, obscenely. “Afraid I’m gonna be too tempting to resist once you’re in the clutches of the Green Dragon?”

Something like that, you think, wryly, but that fluttering is back and you really want to shut it up, so against your sensible, better judgment, you take the joint from Eddie’s hand.

“Got a light?”

You haven’t smoked in over a month, and with your tolerance so low two hits is all it takes to get you sprawled out on the living room floor, arms akimbo like you’re making a carpet snow angel.

Eddie’s a bit more restless in his high, plucking melodious and listless tunes from the couch with his guitar, one foot propped on the coffee table near your head.

Feeling loose-limbed and confident, you stare unabashed up at Eddie. He’d put his hair into a low bun, earlier, and there are a few dark tendrils swinging free around his neck with the rocking movements of his body to the music. 

He hits a snag, string buzzing out a dissonant noise. “Can’t focus with you lookin’ at me.”

“Sorry,” you murmur, except you’re not at all. “Now you know how I feel all the time.”

He sticks his tongue out at you, your girlish tittering in answer; you pat the carpet beside your hip. “Come lay with me.”

His body responds easily to your request; Eddie props the guitar back up against the couch and stretches out next to you with a sigh, a wave of that smokey sweet smell coming with him.

Under your weed-filtered view, the popcorn ceiling above you is moving, whorling and undulating in the muted light. You’re feeling gutsy and sure of yourself as you ask aloud, “Do you really think I’m pretty?”

Your head turns so you can meet Eddie’s eyes, which are dancing across your face- cheek to lips to nose back up to eyes- and he doesn’t make a joke, this time, his words coming with weighty seriousness.

“Yeah, I do. I think you’re beautiful. Always have.”

“Always?” Your echo is a soft and seeking thing.

“Yeah, always,” he confirms, simply, as if it’s a fact of life. “Woulda made a move sooner, but you always seemed so…”

“Unapproachable? Aloof? Bitchy?” You fill the gap in his speech with adjectives that have been used to characterize you in the past- usually by boys in the heat of an argument over inconsequential things that have been lost to time, only the labels sticking around. 

Eddie gives you a reproachful look. “No. I was gonna say, you seemed like you were always in your own world.”

This throws you for a loop. Neck on a swivel, you look back up at the ceiling as Eddie continues.

“I wanted to get to know you more, but I’ll be the first to admit I was intimidated by you. I mean, you’re way out of my league-” Eddie ignores the sardonic snort you give to this- “-and I just assumed asking you out would've ended with an epic crash and burn.”

The ceiling stops swaying, and you swivel back to hold Eddie’s eyes again, the weed making honesty easy. “I always kinda thought you were beautiful, too.”

Awash with the bravery that only comes from being in an altered state, you keep the momentum that’s aided by Eddie’s soft smile and push up on your elbows. 

“I know what they call you.”

Eddie blinks up at you, then slowly, slowly, pushes himself up onto his elbows too. “Yeah?”

It’s a taunt, a dare, an I bet you won’t.

Shows how much he knows. When you’re drunk or stoned, he’d be hard pressed to find a bet you can’t win.

You say it, unwavering. “Eddie The Munch Munson.”

His lips fall open, leaning in towards you as if drawn by a magnet, and you think he’s gonna kiss you until he falls back against the carpet, scrubbing his hands down his face. “Shit. Fuck. We can’t do this.”

“Why not?” You’re a little taken aback, ‘cuz while it’s not an outright rejection, Eddie’s upping the drama, hands pressed into the sockets of his eyes, groaning as he tips into your side.

With his forehead pressed into the curve of your shoulder, he says softly, “I think we’re both a little too stoned to be thinking clearly. And I really, really want you to think clearly when it comes to this.”

“Comes to what?” You’re egging him on now, trailing your fingers up his bicep, coy and angelic. 

He rolls away from you, making a pained noise with his face smushed into the carpet before pushing himself off the ground. “You know what, princess. New topic, for the love of god. You hungry?”

You are, actually, and when he extends his hand to help you up, you take it.

Eddie whips up a box of mac and cheese while you sit on a counter nearby, conversation engaging and fluid as he cooks.

Between interjections of ‘scuse me, angel, gotta get into this cabinet and can you take over stirring for a sec? you answer all his questions. You tell him your favorite bands, the states you’d visited on a road trip when you were six, even giving him the whole “my mom’s a nice enough person but we don’t get along” spiel that you don’t usually get to until a third date.

If that’s even what this is. He’s scooping steaming noodles into two bowls, passing you one, leaning up against the counter closest to the one you’re sat on. Your knee rubs against his ribcage as you eat.

In between chews, he lets you ask about himself- his favorite bands, the states he’s never been but wants to travel to someday, the highlights of his golden years with his mom that he misses every day.

There’s a quiet lull, after your bowls are scraped clean and set aside. He helps you off the counter and tells you to pick out a movie; you load The Black Cauldron into the VCR and settle into the couch cushion.

Eddie puts an arm around you, lets you play with his hands for the bulk of the film, running your nails methodically across his palms. 

By the last act of the movie, you can feel your high beginning to fade, taking your courage with it; when the credits roll, you’re ready to call it quits and sleep off the hangover in your own bed.

“You sure you’re okay to drive?” Eddie asks, following after you as you tug your sneakers back on in the hall.

“Yeah, Eddie, I’ll be good. Thanks for the weed,” you say, pulling your jacket tight around your frame. “And for the- for everything.”

The smile appears again; the one that cuts deep dimples into his cheeks as he watches you step onto his porch.

When he says your name, you turn, keys in hand- “Yeah?”

Leaning into the doorframe like he had earlier, he cants his head, streetlight a warm glow across his cheeks. “You wanna know where I got my nickname, you come back in a few days. Sleep on it tonight.” And then he closes the door.

___

So, technically, he told you to come back in a few days, and showing up less than 24 hours later has to hint at being some sort of desperate. 

Which, fuck it, you kinda are, at this point. Frankly it’s a miracle you’ve lasted this long what with the whole being plagued with visions of Eddie Munson’s hands and lips and hair and that stupid fucking nickname every waking and dreaming hour you’ve spent apart. 

While you can appreciate the honorable nature of Eddie asking you to make a clear-headed decision, you’re wishing for a hundred things to take the edge off as you change out of the PJ’s you’ve been moping in all day.

Black tights stretch over your calves as you think of the whiskey you mom keeps hidden in the downstairs cabinet; denim miniskirt smoothed over your hips as you long for a deep hit of weed; hands shakily plucking your black tanktop into place as the urge to be anything but sober gets swallowed down. 

You make the ten minute drive to Forest Hills in silence (relative to the weird engine noises your hunk of metal car decides to make), wracking your brain for silver-tongued excuses but instead drawing blank after blank.

By the time you’re rolling to a stop in front of Eddie’s trailer, you still have no idea what you’re gonna say to him- only that something needs to be said. Max is at the Sinclair’s for the night, one less person to worry about witnessing you slamming your car door shut and walking right up to Eddie on his front steps.

He’s wearing a pair of overalls, grease-stained, shirtless underneath- the tail end of a larger ink piece peeking out against his ribs. There’s a lone bike tire on the ground, held steady by the spokes his boot rests on as he wrenches the middle hub, biceps rippling and flexing with each movement. 

Certainly a sight that would have stopped you in your tracks, on any other day. But you’re determined to have it out with the returning wingbeat behind your navel, planting your Converse in the gravel just before the first step that Eddie’s sat on.

He doesn’t seem surprised to see you this time, instead giving you a lazy smile on a half-tilt, wiping the tire oil from his hands onto the front of his overalls.

“What brings a fair maiden such as yourself to this ugly neck of the woods?” Eddie leans the tire up against the steps and rises to greet you.

You’re gonna lose what little nerve you have left if he touches you so you act quick, speaking as you cross your arms- “I need to tell you a few things.”

That stops him up short, just a few feet away as he inclines his head, hair loose around his bare shoulders. “I’m nothin’ but ears.”

A wet, rattling breath catches in your chest. You give a cursory scan around to confirm that the rest of the trailer park citizens are indoors, soft lights from rows of windows luminous against the darkening twilight sky.

“I have a… a thing,” you start, unsure of where to begin, really wishing you’d come up with a polished script on the ride over instead of being forced to flounder through for the right dialogue. “It started last year. With the mall fire?” 

When Eddie nods his understanding, you continue, in short starts and bursts, like you’re fighting with the words before they come out.

“Something… happened. To Robin, and Steve, and to- to me. It was really bad, for awhile, and then it got better, but I’m still…” your hands squeeze tight into the flesh of your upper arms, nails stinging. “I’m fucked up from it. And the only way I can talk about it is if I’m fucked up, too. S’why I can only hold a conversation when I’m drunk or flirt while I’m high, like there’s this bad thing inside of me that I can’t look at when I’m sober-”

There’s a frantic edge that’s slipped in to your voice and Eddie steps towards you, as if to soothe, but you’re not ready to give in yet so you take a step back, choking out the last few words- “I just- I wish I could tell you everything, but I can’t, not yet, and I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

From somewhere in the forest behind, a bright chorus of crickets swells as you fix your focus on the ground, as Eddie’s boots crunch forward on the gravel, toe-to-toe with your sneakers.

He moves carefully, as if worried that you’ll spook- lightly brushing his fingers across yours, drawing your awareness to the fact that your nails are dangerously close to drawing blood, a sigh as you release.

“Thank you for telling me.” Unlike your own voice, his is low and sure as his thumbs brush against the red half-moons in your arms. “You’re really brave, you know that?”

He doesn’t leave room for you to dispute this, instead tracing the underside of your jaw with his knuckle, forcing you to hold his gaze, those deep brown eyes soft with empathy as he says, “I don’t have any expectations of you, ‘kay? I’ll be all ears when you need me to be, but you don’t have to spill all your secrets every time you come around. You wanna just watch shitty cartoons and keep my couch warm, that’s fine by me. Nothin’ else needs to happen.”

And it’s his acknowledgement of your admission, his softhearted way of letting you know that nothing needs to happen, that makes you brave.

Brave enough to tilt your chin into the lift of his finger as you say, “I didn’t just come here to apologize.”

You watch his Adam’s apple bob against the taut vein in his neck as he swallows, hard. 

“Yeah?”

When you nod, Eddie blows out a breath and turns on his heel, motioning you to follow him up the stairs. 

Your eagerness is obvious as you scramble up the steps after him, heart starting to thrum in tandem with the flutters as he shuts his front door behind the both of you.

“Take your shoes off,” is all he says, in a low, strained voice, before turning into the kitchen.

Obedient, you drop to one knee and jerk apart your sneaker laces with trembling hands. 

Now on nyloned feet, you step onto the linoleum tile of Eddie’s kitchen. He’s faced away from you at the sink, taut lines of his shoulders rising and falling as he washes his hands.

“You’re sober?” He asks, still at the sink, drying his hands on a patterned teatowel. 

When you realize he can’t see your nod, you speak- “Yes. Yeah. As a judge.”

A soft exhale through his nose, amused, as he finally turns to face you. Eddie’s eyes do that hypnotizing dance- skipping from your chin to your eyes to your lips back up again- and you let him, feeling exposed to the point of nakedness with the intensity of his focus.

“I want to hear you say it.”

The sentence winds through the air, joins the wings in your stomach, sits low in your belly as you shift your weight from side to side, a gentle rock to ease your flayed-alive nerves. 

You say it. “I want your mouth.”

Eddie takes a step closer, nearly toe-to-toe with you again. Over the familiar layer of bergamot and fresh hand soap he smells like the outdoors, and faintly of mechanic oil, hearty and wild.

“Where?” It’s a single word, but with so much weight- suggestive, a taunt, an offer.

You breathe him in, eyes fluttering closed, ‘cuz brave as you’ve been it’s still hard to say some things while looking at him. “Want your mouth… on me.”

He crowds into your space, one hand gliding smoothly to set against your waist, the other fitted against your neck, tapping a thumb to your lips.

You part them, passive and wanting, but he doesn’t press his finger to the pad of your tongue like you’d hoped. Instead, he lets his thumb stroke to the corner of your mouth to make room for his own. 

“Where?” he asks again, this time into your mouth. You can feel the tip of his nose graze yours, pinpricks of his hair tickling your cheeks. 

“Please,” is all you manage this time, awash with heat when you feel his smile form. 

“S’okay, sweetheart. I’ll work you up to it.” It’s a touch condescending, skirting that fine line between tease and mean, the same tone of voice that has your thighs pressing together.

And then, he gives you what you asked for. His plush lips- the ones that you’ve been fantasizing about for what feels like eons- are pressing against yours.

It’s a kiss that starts chaste, tender, but soon devolves into a heady, fevered thing when you push your tongue past the seam of his lips. He melts into you, using the hand he has on your face to keep you steady as he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, grazing his teeth into the plush of it before going back to twining his tongue with yours. 

There’s an audible wet click as he pulls away, both of your chests heaving in the quiet that follows; Eddie rests his forehead against yours briefly to catch his breath, and then he’s tugging you down the hall and into his room.

It’s pleasantly messy and lived-in, posters and photographs taking up most of the walls, guitar cables snaking and criss-crossing atop his dresser. You take a seat on the bed, hands tightening into the flannel duvet while Eddie begins to undo the buttons of his overall straps.

Wholly fascinated, you watch as he pushes the thick material from his body and kicks it to the side, leaving him in just his guitar pick necklace and a simple pair of black boxers. Now on full display, you drink in the sight of the most skin you’ve ever seen of his- tattoos at his chest and arms dark against the rest of him, pale and gleaming softly in the yellow light of the bedside lamp. 

You’re trying to figure out if the larger piece on his ribs is a dragon or some other mythological creature when he moves in to sit next to you, his kisses erasing all thoughts.

Eddie’s making these throaty little noises as you kiss; his hands track lines from your hips to your sides to your shoulders, your chest unconsciously pressing into his touch. 

When his thumb catches on the outline of your beaded nipple through your shirt, he hisses lightly, drawing back to look at you again- “Is this okay?”

You nod, but he doesn’t seem satisfied with that, tsking as he swipes with his thumb again, watching closely as you react silently to the touch.

“Hard to tell when you’re enjoying yourself if you’re quiet as a churchmouse,” Eddie says, in a tone that’s reminiscent of training a pet. “You gonna let me hear you?”

Your teeth catch on your lower lip as he thumbs across your nipple again, shockwaves coursing into goosebumps as you choke out, “I’m not s-so good at that. Not without- fuck- weed..”

Eddie huffs a laugh, a little derisive but you figure he’s probably got the right, seeing as how you’re this worked up and he’s barely touched you.

“You’re plenty good at this sober, sweetheart. Want me to prove it?”

His hand falls from your breast, extricates one of yours from the covers, and slides it up the meat of his thigh- then to the front of his boxers.

The first noise you make for him is a small gasp, one that matches his own as you cup your palm over the thick jut of his hard cock.

“Told you,” he says, sounding strung-out, his hand still closed around your wrist, “You’re doin’ just fine at working me up.”

You wrap your fingers around the bulge as best you can with the fabric of his boxers separating skin from skin, gaining confidence to explore as his grip on your wrist loosens. The black ink at his ribs expands and shrinks with the bellows of his breath, jolting and stuttering with each stroke of your hand.

Just as he’s drawing in a breath to speak, tightening his hold around your wrist in warning, you still your movements. Delicately, slowly, you slide out of his grasp and take his wrist in your hand, placing his palm on your own thigh.

The whole “reciprocating pleasure with sound” is still a hard one to give in to; maybe you can compensate for your hesitancy by showing instead of telling. You guide his hand up, into your skirt, parting your thighs until his fingers find the wetness soaking through both your panties and tights. 

“Fucking… jesus.” Eddie moves with the fluid surety that you lack, middle finger running up the seam of your clothed pussy, your hips jerking reflexively when he catches against your clit. “This all for me, princess?”

In answer, you lean to bury your face into the crook of Eddie’s neck. He lets you, taking the opportunity to hook your leg over his thigh, spreading you out as much as your fitted denim skirt will allow.

You pant into the column of his throat as he strokes you through the light layers, the fabrics grinding friction into your clit caught under his fingertip. He rests his chin on the crown of your head, cooing praises that have your stomach muscles tensing.

“That’s it, good girl, such a good girl for me.”

Your clit is throbbing now as he rubs you in small, quick circles, and you’re so close to falling over the edge that you have to pull his hand away.

Eddie picks up on your unspoken plea; he tugs the skirt down your hips then tosses it blindly over his shoulder, reaching for the edge of your tights. He slips them down your thighs, your calves, peeling them off you with reverence. When all that’s left is your best pair of satin panties, he maneuvers you up against the headboard and stretches himself flat on his stomach, nose pressing into your core.

That heat has come back, flashing through you with a vengeance as Eddie mouths at your pussy through the satin, sloppily but with purpose enough to have your cunt clenching around nothing.

You stay up on your elbows, watching that mane of dark hair bracketed by your thighs, but when Eddie pulls your underwear down and off your ankle your weight falls back against the mattress.

The flat of his tongue licks a wide stripe from your weeping hole up to spread the wetness around your clit. When he sucks the bundle of nerves into his mouth, your head presses back into the covers, hands grappling above you for something to anchor your grasp.

When Eddie flicks the point of his tongue against that bright spot of nerves your hands find a pillow to grip, and when he moans into your pussy the vibrations have you instinctively pulling the pillow against your face, teeth biting into the fluff, masking the whine that would have been loud in the otherwise quiet room.

You think you might be able to get away with this setup (what with Eddie seemingly focused on making you explode into a million little pieces) but there’s a sharp smack before the outer skin of your thigh is burning, white-hot from the kiss of his rings.

Eddie’s mouth leaves you only for the time it takes for him to rip the pillow from your grasp and scold, “Uh uh, none of that, c’mon,” and then he’s back at your clit, suckling with renewed vengeance.

There are little stars bursting at the edges of your vision, your hands shooting down to grip at Eddie’s hair when he pistons the point of his tongue against you again. Your hips are subtly bucking into his mouth, shaking thighs involuntarily closing around his ears. Normally you’d be concerned about Eddie’s air intake but going off the moans he’s burying in your pussy, you’d hazard a guess that he’s really into it.

As if in confirmation, he pulls off your clit with a wet pop, laving his tongue up the junction where thigh meets pelvis, voice sounding wrecked- “Doin’ so good, sweetheart. Fuck, you got me so hard. Gonna blow a load in my boxers like a teenager, y’taste so good. Gonna let me hear you? Hm? Wanna hear you.”

You’re dizzy with want as you prop yourself on your elbows again, mouth falling open as Eddie sinks two of his fingers up to the ringed knuckle inside your velvet walls.

His other hand comes to rest on the soft curve of your stomach, pinning you in place, before he looks up at you, black pupils nearly eclipsing the chocolate brown. 

“What do you want?” he asks again, patiently, as if he doesn’t have two fingers nestled inside your cunt.

Your efforts to grind into him are stopped with his firm hold on your middle, and he tuts at you again- but instead of a reprimand, he seems to soften a bit.

“C’mon, angel,” Eddie says, with such tenderness that makes tears prick at the corner of your eyes. He presses his lips to the inside of your thigh before encouraging, “Lemme hear you say it, and I’ll make it so good for you. Promise.”

“Want you to make me come. Please.” Your voice is unsteady, but it’s audible enough.

Eddie rewards you by sinking his fingers further, to the hilt, heel of his palm catching against your clit. When you let out a warbling moan, he nods- “That’s it,”- before setting a steady rhythm for fucking his fingers up into you. 

“Fuck, Eddie- fu-uck…” you’re trying, really trying to stay in the moment and not get caught up in the noises you’re making- for him. 

When Eddie reattaches his mouth to your throbbing clit and angles his fingers to hit into that soft, spongy spot with each thrust, you feel waves of pleasure start to wash through you. There’s just time for a choked “Shit, Eddie, you’re gonna make me cum,” before you’re spasming around his fingers.

Somehow, you manage to stay on your elbows, bracing your body through the convulsive shocks, white-hot stars joining the wingbeat rhythm as Eddie takes you apart with his mouth and fingers.

He moans, long and low, fucking you through it and then some- your orgasm has been completely wrung out when you push at his forehead, whimpering at the overstimulation. 

“No, baby, one more, please. Gimme one more,” Eddie lifts his head to plead with you, sweaty bangs glued to his forehead- and then he’s back between your legs.

It’s this moment that makes you retrospective. Sex with boys, in the past, has always been a quick means to an end: a few minutes of foreplay, tamping down your own pleasure for the sake of blowing off some steam. 

But now, pleasure was being given to you in spades by Eddie Munson, and you wanted to give it back to him.

You come on his tongue and fingers, again, stomach tightening beneath his warm palm, and this time you really loose the sounds caught in your chest: a strangled mix of your bliss-soaked whines with his name, Eddie Eddie Eddie. 

You feel the bed frame jolt below you both as Eddie’s hips thrust into the mattress in a frenzied tempo.

“Fuck me.” He pulls away, finally, panting into the side of your knee. He rests his head against your leg, lips tinged pink and shining wet, gazing at you with lust-blown eyes. “You are so fucking hot. Holy shit.”

Bashful as your peak wears off, you pull him forward so you don’t have to look at him when you whisper, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, princess,” he says, slumping against your chest and into your arms. “That’s going straight to my long-term spank bank. Number one. For sure.”

You slap playfully at his shoulder, and he rises on his elbows to kiss you- once on the lips, twice on the cheek- warm palms on the outside of your shoulders. 

“Are you… d’you need any help?” you ask, reaching to tuck his hair behind his ears, feeling the crush of insecurity leech in. “I dunno if you even- I mean, did you…”

From all the physical activity, your breasts are half-spilled out of your bra, and Eddie bends to kiss at the tops of them, affectionately, shaking his head as he goes. “There is no world in which I would’ve lasted, just now. Very noble of you to assume, though.”

He grins at your giggle, then says- “I dunno about you, but I need some new underwear. Wanna borrow a pair of my boxers? Bet you’d look cute.”

________

Later, when you’re both cleaned up, dressed, and full from a pizza delivery, Eddie invites you outside for a smoke.

You sit with him on the porch couch, legs slung over his, a big flannel blanket shared over both your laps while he smokes with the hand that isn’t on your thigh. 

There’s a crunching of wheels on gravel, and Max Mayfield’s bike lamp cuts through the dark.

“Hey, Heavy Metal,” she calls out, undoing her bike helmet and leaning her bike into its kickstand. “Are you done fixing up Lucas’s tires or do I have to keep hauling my ass all the way across town to see him?”

“I’ll have it done tomorrow, Red,” Eddie calls back, giving her a salute.

Halfway to her door, she remarks, “You two are gross, by the way,” 

You cross your arms in the sweatshirt Eddie loaned you, slipping into irksome older sister mode easily. “So how’d it go with your boyfriend, tonight, Maxine?”

She flips you both off, but you catch the smile on her face before the front door bangs shut behind her.

Eddie chuckles, smoothing his palm up your thigh, then takes another drag. “You gotta come night smoke with me more often, angel. The streetlights suit you.”

“Gonna get me hooked on nicotine, too?” Your sock foot pokes him in the ribs and he tuts, snapping it up in his free hand and digging his thumb into the arch of your sole.

“Fuck no, your teeth are too pretty to ruin. Want you to come keep me company while I destroy my lungs.”

Another cloud of smoke lifts dreamily around Eddie’s face. His thumb is working wonders on the tense muscle of your foot as you tip your head to rest on the back of the couch. With the nearby streetlamp, his profile is cast in a warm glow; you do a dance of your own, eyes taking in the strong slope of his nose, tracking down to his lips, back up to the wild curls at his temple.

Eddie feels you staring, turns to fix you with a quit it look that you can’t help but laugh at- “What, so you’re the only one who’s allowed to stare?”

“That’s right,” he confirms, leaning forward to set his cig in an ashtray, bullying his way into your space, rings cold under your chin when he tilts your face towards his- “Gotta pay the piper for that obvious violation, sweetheart. Sorry. I don’t make the rules.”

This time, when the flutter within you kicks up, you have a place for it to go- melting softly into Eddie’s lips. 

___________________

I wrote the last third of this while blasted please don’t judge too harshly lmao

[mzzledmutt]

—PREPARE FOR TROUBLE

starring.ᐟ keigo takami x rumi usagiyama x tōya todoroki x reader

synopsis.ᐟ “prepare for trouble and make it double!” An innocent night of fun with your ill intentioned bestfriend ends in bumping and grinding with a heroic duo.

warnings.ᐟ SMUT, fem!reader, alcohol use, drug use (weed + coke), clubbing, one night stand, foursome (ffmm), public sex, unprotected vaginal + anal sex, cunnilingus, blowjobs, overstimulation, fingering, creampies, pegging, spit, spanking, slapping, hair pulling, biting, squirting, exhibitionism + voyeurism, feather play, temperature play, pet names (princess, doll, dove, honey, mommy + daddy) used

word count.ᐟ 10.6k words

m.mutt 𐂯 this is a refresh/rewrite of an older fic i have since deleted on tumblr! this fic is/has been cross posted on my ao3! i hope you enjoy!!

SWEATY bodies bump and grind against each other as loud music plays in the humid club. Girls sit in seats at the bar, flirting with sleazy men hoping to get a free drink and cash. Douchebags hit on everything they see with thighs and breasts as if they were chicken.

It made you feel gross.

Clubbing was definitely not your favorite activity in the world. The only reason you still sat in this place was due to a text you had gotten from your friend, an offer to save you from boredom under his own rules, of course.

On a night like this, you’d rather be sprawled across your bed. Masturbating to whatever degenerate porn you could find that caught your interest for longer than a minute.

You sat at your little table, tucked away at the back of the club, sipping on the half-empty drink in front of you. Your friend had run off to grab more drinks and hadn’t returned in a while. You were so tempted to flirt your way into another drink, stronger than whatever fruity concoction you had ordered the first time.

Come on now, it’s not like you didn't wear this dress for nothing. The way it hugged your skin and complimented your curves was sure to lure in anyone willing to spend their money on you.

It seems you’d have to resort to that soon considering a dark-haired demon, left on your own.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear though. After what felt like an hour, the familiar mop of black hair crosses your peripheral and slides into the seat across from you. “You left me, asshole.” You complain and he snickers, setting a drink in front of you.

“Sorry, princess.” A soft smile tugs on his scared lips, accented by his snake bites. “Got a little distracted.” He digs in his pocket, tongue poking from between his lips in concentration. You grab your plastic cup and sip the liquid from the little black straw.

“Oh, fuck.” You hiss at the taste, this was much stronger than your previous drink. “This is what I needed. Thank you, Dabi.” You smile sweetly at the man across from you as he sends a wink your way. “Anytime…there it is.” His hand is quickly pulled from his pocket. A rectangular tin, a lighter, and a small clear baggie are tossed onto the table.

“You wanna get fucked up, princess?” A sly smirk splays across his face in the dim club lighting.

Hesitantly, you crack open the tin seeing about seven blunts laid side by side, in the clear baggie was loose white powder. “It’s’ll I could grab, my plug is going out of town.” You continue to stare down at the items on the table as you sip. “You obviously don’t have to, but I’m definitely gonna do a line or two.” You weighed out your options, looking back up at him.

He looked pretty in the low lighting, the soft blue tones of the flashing lights illuminating the lower half of his face. Perfectly concealing him in mysterious shadows. Dabi was always pretty though, scarred flesh molded into an alluring figure.

You stop your meticulous studying of his face before focusing back on the substances before you.

You grab a blunt from the tin and pull it to your lips. “You mind?” Cerulean eyes light up and his smirk grows. “Anytime, doll.” The flame sparks on his index finger and he holds it out to you. You lean forward, lighting the end of the blunt and taking a few puffs while it is held tight between your lips. The smoke flows freely as you sit back and blow it out.

“‘S a new strain, tell me how ya’ like it.” Dabi lights his own, holding it between his teeth for just a moment. He takes his drags like a pro, watching as you relax into your seat after each puff. “I thought you were stayin’ relatively clean?” You bump the baggie on the table.

Dabi huffs a laugh, averting all eye contact he once held. “There’s no point anymore.” He says it as if it were the easiest thing in the world. You would’ve pressed but, it’s hard enough being the friend of a villain.

Making him regress into his shell wouldn't help.

“See anyone you like?” He’s changing the conversation. “Nope. Everyone’s boring.” You take another drag, blowing the smoke down onto the table. “I see what you mean, princess.” Dabi leans back in his chair, eyes scanning over the room. “Not even a bimbo to fuck for the night, this blows.” - “You wanted to come here!” You mention as he sounded so bored.

“For once this place is empty, full o’ normies.” He rolls his eyes. “Why do you typically come here?” You finally ask, leaning forward to hear him better.

“I used to meet my dealer here before he switched locations. Maybe find a piece o’ ass or two but tonight it’s dry.” Dabi downs the rest of his drink, setting the cup on the table.

“Didn’t a new club open like a few blocks away?” You lean down to sip your drink again. “Think so, but that’s one of those high-end places. Only pros and horny fans are gonna populate that joint.” He remarks, grabbing his cup and scowling at its emptiness.

“Fuck, I’m gettin’ a new drink.” He huffs, pushing off the table. “You want another, doll?” He quirks a brow as he towers over you. “Nah, I’m alright thank you.” Dabi shrugs and walks off.

You sat at the table, taking drags from your blunt and sipping your drink. At least the music in this place wasn’t bad. The DJ playing an upbeat RnB song. You sit by yourself for some time, gently swaying in your chair. The liquor and weed were hitting now.

Eyes slightly blurry as you dazed off into the distance, music flowing through your ears. You were on cloud nine, with no clue of how much time was passing. You snapped from your daze when your phone buzzed violently on the table.

Unlocking it, you open your messages and see Dabi texted you.

hey

heyyyy

read

doll

doing a line off this blonde assss

read

shits magical

read

you left for a drink??

sent

took a detour

read

You hadn’t even noticed he took the tin and the baggie. At least you still had your blun—your eyes trail over and notice it had burnt out a while ago.

“Damn it!”

A soft sigh leaves your lips as you rest your chin on your hand. He was going to be awhile. What was the point of ever dragging you to this club if he was going to go fuck some bitch and leave you lonely? You had no interest in flirting with any of the randoms who danced or sat by themselves.

You knew you had a few admirers here, they gawked and mumbled as you walked past but, with Dabi’s intimidating demeanor and your lack of interest, you knew they’d never show up.

You watch as a couple across from you make out. Hands in their hair, tongues down their throats, and their hips rocking against each other. You made a face of disgust, a festering jealousy broiling within you.

You debated leaving the club, catching a ride, and going home. It wasn’t often you got to hang out with Dabi but, if he were actually here and not spending his time elsewhere you wouldn’t be in this predicament.

There was no way home that wasn’t sketchy or incredibly inconvenient. So, you should grin and bear it. Fuck Dabi, his short attention span, and his high sex drive.

“What’s a sweet thing like you doing here all alone?” A hand grabs the back of your chair, grazing your skin. You flinch, turning quickly to see an older man with golden and silver teeth. He was nursing a cup in his unoccupied hand. “‘M not alone.” You pick your drink back up, needing to keep it close to your body.

“Oh, I know. I saw that jackass walk off with some pretty boy not too long ago.” The man circles your table, sitting in Dabi’s previous seat.

“So, he ain’t your boyfriend. He’s too busy chasing after the same tail.” The man laughs, loud and hearty. It made you uncomfortable so, you laughed awkwardly. Hoping Dabi would save you. “You smell good, baby. Like earthy and shit.” - “Weed.” You curtly mumble, pulling your cup back to your lips. “You’re smelling weed.” You take a long drink, hoping he would just get the hint and walk off.

“How about you dance for me, hmm?” You furrow your brows, looking at him as if he had three heads. “I’ve been here all night and haven’t seen ya’ dance. C’mon, sweetness.” He leaned forward, resting more on the table. You go to send him off before he pulls out a wad of cash.

Your reaction was very visible. Eyebrows pulled high, jaw slightly falling slack, and eyes wide. The man laughs at your reaction. “I can make it worth your while.” He offers, with a grungy smirk.

“Whatever you want.” You take the offer and stand.

Before you could move on to dancing, you finished off your drink knowing you’d need to be more intoxicated to do this. Your body sways with the music and your hands trace your figure. Mind hazy from the drugs and alcohol, eyes watching the other figures move in the dim lighting, only truly appearing when neon lights flickered over them.

The DJ changed the song to a more sensual new age song, appealing to the young adults and older clubgoers trying to stay relevant. Your hands run up your thighs, lifting the skirt to your black velvet dress, showing just a few centimeters below your panties. The man watches from the table, bottom lip pulled between his teeth.

You flash him a smile and scoop your breast from your dress, holding the soft mounds in your hands. You pull a nipple into your mouth, sucking on the bud before adjusting your appearance so no one else would see. If you were gonna put on a show for money, you were gonna do it right.

Your tipsy, fluid dancing was disrupted when a body pressed against yours. A smirk curls up on your lips as you begin to grind your ass into the figure behind you. With a quick swivel of your hips, you determine your partner is either a woman or a grower.

The hairs on your neck stand to a point as hot breath brushes against your smooth skin, making slight arousal begin to form in the deepest pits of your stomach.

The mysterious figure grabs your waist, pulling you taut against them. As your back collides with their chest you realize your intruder is a woman. “Hi, princess.” The woman’s husky voice sends tingles through your body and straight to your hot cunt. “Hey.” You replied, continuing to grind into the woman’s lower half.

“You look absolutely delectable, honey.” Her tongue seemed to whip at the top of your ear, leaving saliva to cool and send goosebumps down your arms. “You haven’t even seen my face,” You quip, reaching you and behind you to hold her neck.

“What if I’m a horrid creature.” A soft fan of breath hits your neck again as she laughs. “I’ve been watching you from afar for a while, princess.”

You noticed she was hiding you as you danced against her, your bodies concealed from the man watching you. Her hands softly rub at your hips, trailing to your ass whenever you’d lean over to throw it back. Pussy flooding with slick as you feel her hardly noticeable thrusts against you as you grind your ass against her.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” She asked words like the melody of a jealous love song. “He’s at home,”

You whispered, making the woman pull back a little. “He’s pink, silicone, and needs to be plugged in after I cum.” You laughed at her reaction. “Fuck,” She laughs. “You scared me, sweetness. Thought I was gonna have to beat a prick up tonight.” Your heart fluttered for a moment.

“You beat a man up for me? Already?” You were flattered, truly flattered a stranger would be so forward. “Honey, I know I’d do anything for you.”

Her words were thick and sweet, almost silencing your rampant mind from the question on the top of your tongue. Who is the stranger who decided to dance with you?

Reluctantly, you pull yourself away from the woman leaving your body tingling and begging for her warmth. You turn to face to view your mysterious female partner and your heart pounds faster.

Your eyes widen at the sigh of the tall woman. Hair as white as snow draped down her back matching the fluffy ears atop her head, a contrast to her deep, brown skin. The lilac two-piece she worse accentuated her vermillion eyes.

“Hi, honey bunch.” She bats her gorgeous lashes at you, clearly taking note of how you guffawed at her.

She looked so strong. Her torso was covered by a low-cut, spaghetti-strap top. Her thighs, lord her thighs, muscles bulged from the confines of her maxi skirt, the same color as her shirt. Her breasts nearly spilled from the top, muscles flexing from their cotton prison.

She was going to ruin you. “You okay? Am I losing you, honey?” Her hand comes up to cup your jaw, gently stroking one spot by your lips.

Her red-painted lips spoke words of honey and like a bee, you latched onto every word.

“‘M fine, you’re really pretty.” You compliment, your fingers coming up to play with the ends of her blazer. “Why thank you, love.” Her gaze was so intimidating, deep vermilion eyes boring into yours with lust. Your lust-filled grinding had stopped due to your admiration of the woman before, making you feel out of place from the other club-goers around you.

“I want you.” You murmur before pulling back from her. A tan, manicured hand reaches out quickly to grab your own, keeping you at arm’s length.

The woman watches in confusion as you shake your hand free and throw her a smirk.

You move into the light, trailing hands up and down your body as you sway. The song playing was sensual and slow.

Your eyes trace over the woman’s form as you dance by yourself, knowingly teasing and seducing her. Pearly white teeth sink into her red-painted bottom lip as she watches you lift your dress to flash your panties in the large crowd. Two fingers dip into your mouth, collecting saliva and trailing down your body. Your hips buck slightly as your fingers come into contact with your wet panties and your sensitive clit.

You gently caress your clit and softly moan.

Red eyes darkened with lust as she grabbed you again, pulling you by your hips and holding you close. “Oho, seems I’ve got myself a little slut, hmm?” She chided, staring down at you. “You’re fucking filthy, huh?”She seemed to moan, blown pupils concealing her blood-red gaze. “Did you like the show?” You ask, giving her your most innocent look and licking your lips.

“I loved the show, honey. I wanna see more. I wanna see your cunt drip with arousal and cum after I eat you out.” The woman’s mouth like velvet as she brushed her lips against yours. Shaky breath leaves you as her hand's cradle and squeeze your ass. “I never caught your name, princess.” Your arms come to rest upon her shoulders. “I never threw it,” You giggle, making her give a stern look.

“I’m ___, I like ‘Honey’ a lot though.” Your teeth gently sink into your bottom lip. “Name’s Rumi.” Rumi, a pretty name for an even prettier girl. It replayed in your mind, an echoing melody. Rumi, Ru-mi, Roo-Me, Ruh-oo-me.

Rumi.

She’s pulling you away before you can argue, leading your pliable form to a booth across the dance floor. You glide through crowds and slip past people, hands interlocked as you walk.

It’s disorienting when Rumi pushes you onto the pleather seats, sliding in beside you. It’s pathetic how your cunt throbs when her hands rest on your hips. “You’re so pretty, honey.” Rumi's grip is possessive as if you were her prize for the evening.

“Look at you,” Her hands are roaming, creeping up your torso until they’re cupping your breast. A staticky feeling fluttered through your body at Rumi’s touch. Eventually, her hands move up to your cheeks, smushing your lips together. “Beautiful.” She leans in and softly kisses you.

Rumi’s hands eventually find their way to squeeze and grope at other parts of your body. Your lips are interlocked, tongues briefly intermingling. Rumi breaks the kiss, leaving you to pant hopelessly.

“You want me?” You nod, stupefied. With a quirk of her brow, you compose yourself enough to scramble a plea. “Isn’t that what I said on the floor?” Rumi smirks, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear before leaning in to kiss you once more. Your lips meet, hers soft and sweet, a subtle burn behind her kiss from her previous alcohol consumption.

Rumi’s hands cradle your head and grasp at your hip. The kiss is deepened as her tongue glides against your own. As if your bodies were magnets you found yourselves gravitated towards each other. You shuffled onto her lap, your thighs strewn across hers as she held you closer.

Rumi’s hands escape to your waist as yours escape to hold the back of her head. Almost swapping positions. She grabs and gropes, pinching the skin and grinning as you cry out. Your mind is foggy, you’re present but, your body’s on fire.

You feel good, better than good. Your core throbs and aches, hips bucking as you beg for attention. Rumi obliges your silent pleas, she gently strokes your thigh. Skilled fingers just barely brushed against the thin fabric of your panties.

Your lips move in sync, her dominating yours as you submissively accept. Rumi teases your sensitive skin, dragging her nails drown your thighs, roaming towards your ass only to move away.

You pull back for air, panting heavily as Rumi kisses your neck. Hazy eyes darted around the club, hoping no one was watching you and your newest lover and it seemed as if you both were invisible to the intoxicated crowd. They were dancing, drinking, laughing, anything but, looking at your booth.

You pull Rumi back by her hair and smash your lips against hers. She admired your bold move but, shut you down soon after. Her teasing finally comes to an end as her fingers rub against your clothed clit. Your cunt leaks with arousal, the sticky fluid clinging to the panties adding the pool on the thin fabric.

Rumi pulls your panties to the side and slides her finger through your soaked cunt, collecting the juices you produced. She pulls back from the kiss and shoves her two fingers into your mouth, replacing the warm feeling of her soft tongue. Your eyes, wide and naive, stare into hers.

“Go on,” She gives you an encouraging nod. “Taste yourself.” This wasn’t your first rodeo by any means yet you felt so intimidated by her. Her presence alone was enough to make you feel small, almost insignificant.

Slowly, your tongue dances around her fingers. Between each digit and over each knuckle, you clean her finger of your arousal and allow her to slip them away from your mouth.

Rumi's saliva-slick hand trails back to your throbbing core and her finger traces your clit, applying pressure, making you moan.

Her eyes bore into yours, asking for permission before she continued with her insatiable and filthy acts. “Yes.” Your voice was soft but Rumi heard you loud and clear. Her fingers began their descent into your hot, wet cunt. The way they curled and scissored against your walls forced moans and gasps from you.

You were thankful for the upbeat, loud song the DJ had chosen to play.

Rumi's fingers were like magic, bringing you quickly to your impending orgasm. Your hips rock with her motions hoping for more friction and control. Rumi notices your tactic and pins you in place, giving you a stern look when you pout. “You take what I give.” She mumbled, staring down at her fingers sliding into your slick pussy.

Her eyes watched as your pussy throbbed with every movement and arousal leaked into her hand.

A loud moan makes Rumi look up at you. You sat slouched on the booth, teeth sunken into your hand and eyes squeezed shut. “You close baby?” You nod rapidly as the knot in your stomach nearly bursts. “You can cum baby, go ahead. Cum for me, honey.” Rumi kisses your neck and ear.

A strangled moan gets caught in your throat as the tension finally snaps as your orgasm washes over you. Cum drips down onto the seat and into her hand making her praise and console you. “You did so well for me honey.” She praises, rubbing her free hand up and down your trembling thighs.

“So good for me.” Your heart pounded and your head seemed hazy, not only from the activities you had engaged in earlier. You pant and whimper as you calm down for the erotic scene. Rumi smiles down at you, watching as you come down from your high.

“C’mon baby, come back to me. Floatin’ off too far.” She kisses your forehead, cheeks, and nose. Anything to jump-start your mind. Soon your eyes refocus, settling on the hulking form before you. God damn, isn’t she gorgeous? “There’s my pretty girl.” She coos, smiling. “I’d take you somewhere to continue this but, I didn’t show up alone.” Rumi waves, looking over you, raising her hand, and then focusing back on you.

“Doesn’t mean we can’t relax though.” Your walls throbbed and you realized she never removed her fingers. “Oh, sorry love. Wanted you to be more attentive before I overstimulated ya’.” The white-haired woman suddenly leans over you protectively, flashing a smile at whoever is approaching.

“Thank you.” Her voice was thick. A waitress places two trays of drinks on the table. The smaller woman bows and skips off leaving you two alone.

“You’re starin’, pretty.” Rumi grabs one of the drinks and downs it. You hadn’t even realized your eyes never left her. Honestly, besides the overall brain fog, you were still trying to decipher who she was.

You wince, as everything around you seems to become louder. It’s like a kick in the chest. This sudden clarity shocks your senses, sobering you from all previous events. You almost feel winded and dizzy.

“Breathe for me, honey.” You do as told, shutting you as she holds you. Her fingers shift within you, pulling a heavy whine from your chest. Rumi coos softly, rubbing her thumb over your aching clit to soothe you.

Slowly, her fingers are pulled from your aching cunt, leaving you empty. It’s crude, the way she grins at your watchful gaze. Rumi pulls the digits into her mouth, groaning at the taste of you. You watch with bated breath as she cleans herself before pressing a kiss to your lips.

“I’m gonna need to taste you again before the night ends.” Her voice is sultry and silky. You nod dumbly.

You're moved back to your spot beside her, a hand resting on your thigh for comfort. She’s forcing you to drink water as she talks, it’s a little hard to hear her over the music but, you were just happy to be looking at her. Suddenly, she catches something in her peripheral.

“You bastard!” She shouts to a figure approaching the table.

“Walkin’ with a fuckin’ limp? Already? I thought you could hang Mr. Takami.” A bashful blonde strolls up to the table. “Shut up.” The man whines as another figure approaches behind him. Rumi laughs as you notice the man behind the blonde.

Fucking Dabi.

Both of your eyes widen seeing each other. “Did you bring your toy to meet me?” Dabi stared at you in shock, impressed but, shocked nonetheless. “No, I need to take a seat.” Rumi laughs a sound that focuses you. “Well then, this is ___. Honey, this is my best friend, Keigo.”

Holy fuck. As if this night couldn’t get any goddamn better. Of course, he had to choose the one blonde who was best friends with your hookup.

“Heyo.” Keigo slides into the seat across from you. “This is Dabi. Dabi, Rumi.” He gestures towards the woman. Keigo’s a pretty blonde, average height with a nice build but, you couldn’t see much dark, collared shirt. Behind him, pressed between his back and the booth were a set of vibrant red wings.

A pair you had seen on television and Dabi’s phone many times.

“So how’d you two meet?” He asks as he pulls Dabi to sit beside him. “Saw her on the dance floor,” Rumi's arm comes to wrap around your shoulder, keeping you close. “She’s so fluid when she moves.” A smug look falls on Keigo’s face.

“What about you?” Rumi asks, stopping Keigo before he speaks further. “Oh, I saw hi—“ He is interrupted by Dabi. “Saw him in the bathroom, he let me do a line off his ass.” His nonchalance made the statement feel so natural as if the words he said weren’t totally absurd.

“You were in there for much longer than just ‘doing a line.’” Rumi presses. “You’re a smart girl, you saw the limp.” Dabi chuckles, grabbing a drink from the tray before him.

“How come my business gets aired out and Rumi gets to stay quiet?” Keigo pipes in.

“Oh relax, birdie. Maybe later.” Rumi takes her shot. “I’m kinda curious too.” You kick Dabi’s shin, making him laugh. “It’s fine, I’ll pry it out of the bird later.” You all laugh, grabbing shots and chatting.

You're sticking looking between Rumi and Keigo. Back and forth as if you were almost programmed to do as, analyzing them. The markings by Keigo’s eyes, Rumi’s ears, and muscles. “You alright there, dove?” Keigo asks, noticing your movements. Dove.

It finally clicked and you felt like an idiot.

You had been dancing with a pro. Mirko to be exact. You were kissing and grinding and letting Mirko touch you. The Bunny hero was seen as any lesbian's wet dream. Her muscled stature, boisterous personality, and glowing face made her easy to love.

Dabi on the other hand had been with Hawks. Japan’s heartthrob and favorite hero. His charming words, striking quirk, and gorgeous looks left everyone in awe.

The Mirko and Hawks. The Bunny and Bird duo most of Japan would drop their panties for.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You grab another drink from the table, quickly downing it to suppress the sudden onslaught of thoughts. “Where the hell have you been, doll?” Dabi spoke from his spot across from you. “I could ask you the same.” He gives you a look, one that says “I asked you first.”

“Need I remind you? You left me.” You stated matter of factly. “I was propositioned by an old man for a grand.” Rumi chimes in, “I can attest to that, I saved her.” Dabi just rolls his eyes, used to your typical dramatics. “Did you take it?”

“Not the point.”

“Look, at least I gave you a heads up.” He argues in defense. “Not really.” A look of annoyance crossed his scarred face. “Yeah, yeah. I told you I’d be busy.”

“Not with fucking Hawks.” You muttered to not alert anyone who may have been eavesdropping. “Oh well, told you it was a blonde.” Dabi shrugs as if that removed all the blame from him. “Besides you didn’t tell me it was Mirko.”

At his words, you shrink on yourself. The truth finally spills from your lips. “I didn’t realize it was her…” The man blinks at you in silence before erupting with laughter. “How do you not realize you’re getting fingered by Mirko?” Keigo and Rumi do their best to suppress their own giggles.

“Will you shut up?” You whisper-yell in embarrassment. “Aw come on, don’t give her a hard time,” Keigo speaks after calming himself. “The only reason we come to this shithole is to go unnoticed.” Which made sense, everyone seemed so focused on their own worlds.

“So,” Rumi hums from beside you. “How do you two know each other?” You sigh dramatically. “He is, unfortunately, my best friend.” Dabi rolled his eyes, leaning back and folding his arms to rest behind his head.

“You adore me.” He replied smoothly. “Loathe, you. There’s a difference.” You correct him. “Sure, like you would know.” The dark-haired man scoffs, looking over at the crowd.

“Seems like there’s something more than friends here.” Keigo admits. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Didn’t say that but, there’s something.” You lock eyes with the hero, studying his features in the dim lighting.

Although your way of life and line of work prevent you from being too involved with heroic affairs, you’ve seen Keigo before. His glowing skin, perfect hair, shiny wings, and stylish clothes. He’s gorgeous, in person and on screen.

He looks different before you, obviously out of hero attire and a professional setting. His normal get up replaced by a black collared shirt and matching jeans. Although a visor no longer obstructed the view of his golden eyes, his saucer-like pupils did.

“What did you do to him?” You asked, remembering Rumi’s remark about his walking. “Why do you wanna know? Fear you’re missin’ out?” He laughs, throwing an arm around the blonde.

“Hell no. Shut up!” You pout, leaning further into Rumi. “Don’t get so defensive. You know I gladly will.” You can feel a slight jealousy brewing inside of you, almost making your eyes twitch. “Take you in the back and bend you over. Want me to take a line off your ass too?” The rattle of his deep voice went straight to your cunt.

“Or do you wanna go back to mine?” You shift in your seat, cunt throbbing and panties soaking once more.

“That’s enough.” You grumble, face flushed. Dabi knew the perfect way to get under your skin, especially if he wanted something. “I mean, I really wanna get out of here.” Keigo leans his head on your friend's shoulder.

Dabi grins as Rumi also agrees. “We have a place nearby, it’s easier that way.” She says, not even giving you a moment to speak. All parties seemed to agree but you. You watch as Dabi kisses Keigo’s foreheads before whispering something inaudible in his ear.

Your cheeks are pinched and your fave is turned towards Rumi. “We should head out,” Rumi’s voice filled your head as she gets closer. ��I wanna get you outta this dress.” She nibbles at your ear. “Does that sound good to you? Goin’ to a hotel or somethin’ and lettin’ me wreck this pretty pussy?” You have to stay quiet so you don’t moan. “Y-yes, please.” Your voice, weak and trembling.

Rumi and Keigo glance at each other and give a nod. “Let’s go.” Rumi helps you up from the booth, holding onto your arm as you wobble for a moment. She brushes herself off, quickly linking arms with Keigo.

“Look at me.” A rough voice commands, fingers finding your chin. You're forced to look into Dabi’s intimidating gaze. “You okay?” Before you can speak he’s brushing lint off of your dress and fixing your hair. “I’m okay, Dabi.” His thumb cautiously wipes stray eyeliner from beneath your water line.

“We can dip at any time. You wanna stop? We’ll go. Understand?” You nod quickly, not trusting your voice at the moment. “Good girl,” He pressed his lips to your forehead, making your eyes flutter shut. “Don’t need you puttin’ yourself in a bad situation f’me or because you’re starstruck, m’kay?” You nod again.

“I need words, pipsqueak.” A shiver wracked through your body. “Okay..”-“Good, thank you, princess.” You and Dabi’s relationship is more than complicated. You're not together by any means but, you keep the bed warm for each other. He’s never shown particular interest in you, besides your time spent together and jokes to mess with you.

Dabi has taken it upon himself to always be your caretaker. He's always there, even if you don’t see him. Especially in a situation like this, he’d never let you sleep with someone without his presence. For some reason, you abide by his rule.

“I drove us here, keeps things more inconspicuous,” Rumi says, tossing some cash on the table. “I’ll go pull the car around, there’s a lounge in the back.” She straightened her dress and threw her long hair into a bun. “Kei,” The blonde peers around Dabi. “Get them back there and I'll let you know when I’m here.” - “I gotcha. C’mon guys.”

Rumi kisses your cheek before she leaves, giving you a wink before she disappears into the crowd. Dabi throws an arm over your shoulder as Keigo grabs his hand, leading you all to a dim hallway lined with pictures and tacky decor.

A security guard and a black metal door were the only things here and as you approached man opened it. Four large men, dressed in security uniforms, turned to watch you enter. “Evenin’.” Keigo’s voice was chipper, he even wore a smile.

“Just waiting for our ride. Do you mind?” The men look at you, eyes flickering up and down. “Right this way Mr. Takami.” One of the men rises from his seat, unclamping a velvet rope and pulling the curtains back.

“Room number four is cleared, sir.” You follow behind them, entering the dim room. “Well, aren’t you helpful? I’ll be sure to leave a good tip.” You looked to Dabi. “Y’alright?” He murmurs, continuing to keep you close.

“I’m okay, I swear.” You nudge your head into his shoulder. “You’ve been all over the place, princess. Mind keeps wanderin’ away.” Keigo takes a seat, pulling his phone from his pocket.

Dabi lets you go, following Keigo's lead. He sits with enough room between him and Keigo for you to squeeze in. “C’mon, get comfortable.” Dabi pats the space. Both of their thighs were spread, leaving you practically no room to sit without sitting in them.

“Rumi shouldn’t be too long but,” Keigo tucks his phone away. “She parked on the other side of the street.” He shrugs, adjusting his position. “Might as well take a seat.” His gaze was predatory, the way his hips shifted, exposing his dickprint.

You roll your eyes and take the seat, ending up spread on their laps. They don’t mess around, hands quickly coming to touch and rub at your figure. Their faces in your neck, kissing at the skin and tickling you with their breaths.

“You’re so pretty, dove.” Keigo mutters, his hand squeezing at your thigh. “I like this color on you.” Dabi nips at your lobe. “Thank you.” You’re already breathless, almost overwhelmed by the attention you’re receiving.

“Did you say ‘thank you’ to Keigo?” He asks, voice husky. “Thank you, Keigo.” You pant out, locking eyes with him. “Good girl.” Dabi coos, his hand coming to cradle the nape of your neck. “Isn’t he pretty?”

You're positive your pupils match Keigo’s. Dilated and hazy but, full of lust. His hands creep around your waist as he pulls you close. “Mhm,” You hum, entranced with the man before you. “You should kiss him, pretty.” He felt like your conscious or the little devil sitting on your shoulder.

“For me, yeah?” Egging you on for mutual satisfaction. Keigo kisses you, unable to take the tension much longer. Lips mashing, hands roaming, and soft groans rumbling from your chests. Dabi watches with a wide grin, one hand on your neck and the other on Keigo’s clothed dick.

He would occasionally squeeze both of you, relishing in your moans.

Keigo’s hands move to your breasts, squeezing the flesh in his palms before slipping his hands beneath the fabric. He breaks from the kiss to ogle your tits, pressing his face between them, kissing them, and sucking on the skin. “Keigo, shit.” You bite your finger to suppress your sounds.

Keigo worships your tits. Lapping at and sucking on your nipples, tweaking them between his fingertips. He left hickeys in his wake, covering your chest in lovebites to remember him by. The warmth of his tongue in your sensitive nipples flooded your cunt.

Dabi’s hands left their positions, soon one was trailing up and down your thigh. The other was unbuckling his jeans and delving beneath the fabric of his boxers to stroke his aching erection.

You grab Dabi’s hand, placing it exactly where you needed him. His large hand covered your entire clothes cunt, his fingers press along the fabric. “One time not enough?” He asks in a hushed tone. “Please, I don’t ask for much.”

“Yeah right.” Dabi scoffs but, obliges your plea. Your panties are shifted to the side exposing your soaked pussy to the cold air. You whine loudly as his finger presses against your clit, the skin-to-skin feeling almost foreign.

The men had focused their attention on you. Keigo worshiped your breasts as he stroked himself. Dabi made quick work of stimulating your clit, drawing tight circles in the bundle of nerves. Your juices were coating his fingers, causing them to slip occasionally.

“You’re soaked.” Dabi coos, allowing his fingers to glide through your slick folds. “Ya’ like me spreadin’ you open?” You mewl at his words, squirming in your spot. He snickers, watch as you watch him attentively, awaiting his next touch.

Two thick digits circle your aching cunt before delving into the source of slick. Your back arched at the intrusion, hands flying down to grab his. Dabi’s fingers slowly pump into you, rendering any fight against him useless.

You’re soon weak, laid across him and Keigo, on display for anyone who may pass through. Your cunt squeezes around him, gushing from the slightest ministrations. You're already sensitive, having an orgasm ripped out of you once before.

Now Dabi’s assault on your poor cunny felt like overkill. His thumb was pressed to your clit, tight circles traced on your skin, his fingers deep in your core, Keigo’s hot mouth on your tits.

It’s becoming too much.

“Kei, c’mere.” Dabi broke the static of your moans, guiding their faces together before locking into a deep kiss. You're pliant and needy beneath them, helpless watching from below as they make out. It's slow, passionate, something that makes your heart skip a beat. They seemed comfortable as if they’d been in this scenario before. Knowing, Dabi, they have.

Keigo writhed in his spot, softly thrusting into his hand for any kind of friction.

Dabi refuses to skip a beat, his fingers increase with pace. You cry out from beneath them, soaking the fabric below you.

Dabi breaks the kiss, pulling Keigo up and into his lap. “S’fuckin’ pretty.” He mutters, grabbing the blonde’s jaw. Heavy eyes, filled with lust, meet your own. You stood dumbly in the room, fingers twisting strands of hair. “For someone so hellbent on gettin’ fucked tonight, you’re bein’ quiet distance.” His brow quirks up, asking you to give him some excuse.

“Does it feel good, princess?”

“Speak up.”

“It feels so good, please don’t stop!” Your pretty eyes are full of tears, pleading with him to keep going. Keigo, ever the pleaser, locks you into a deep kiss. You hum in contentment, eyes fluttering shut. Keigo is quick and needy, a predator devouring his prey.

His kiss was hungry. All spit, tongue, and teeth. Hands wandering, tugging, and squeezing at whatever they can find.

Keigo pulls away almost as quickly as he sprung towards you. He’s a panting mess of blonde hair and disheveled clothing. “I need to taste that pretty pussy.” He heaves between bated breaths. “Ya’ gonna let me, dove?” He doesn’t give you a moment to speak, latching onto your neck once more leaving pretty purple marks against your skin.

“Car’s out back let’s—“ Dabi is the only one coherent enough to notice Rumi in the doorway, sending her a two-fingered wave. She watched as you writhed in Keigo’s grasp, soft moans spilling from your spit-soaked lips.

“I hate to break the party up but, if we don’t leave right now I’m gonna slut you all out in front of everyone.”

None of you waited around for another order. Scrambling to dress yourselves and exit the dingy building. It didn’t take long to get to their hotel, a ten-minute drive max.

Rumi sat in the driver's seat, struggling to keep her eyes on the road. The rest of you piled into the back of the vehicle, a perfect distraction for your driver. Grinding, kissing, moaning, spanking each other. Her eyes would flicker between the streets in front of her and the backseat.

Rumi desperately wished she could just watch, pull over to the side of the road, and throw all caution to the wind. She wanted to watch as you and Hawk’s sloppily made out in the backseat, tongue tangling and grinding against each other's thighs but, the rearview mirror would have to suffice.

Once arriving at the hotel, she helped untangle the mess of limbs and escorted you all to their room. She scolded Keigo as he nearly sunk to his knees in the elevator, reminding him of the cameras watching their every move.

You had to behave until getting into their room and once you did, you were aghast. Your eyes widened as you looked around, no longer focused on your partners behind you. “This place costs more than my rent.” You awed, looking around. Rumi and Keigo snicker, licking up and getting comfortable.

There’s a sudden gust of wind, lifting the skirt of your dress and you’re surrounded for a moment by a plume of crimson. You turn, and watch as Keigo stretches his wings. They almost double in size, effectively dwarfing you beneath him. He wore a proud smile on his face, wings back to their full appearance.

“Sorry, dove. Feels weird not having them around.” You yelp as something brushes against your nipples before a red feather slips from between your breasts and onto the wings of the hero before you. “Pervert.” You tease, making him chuckle.

“Come with me.” Keigo takes your hand pulling you behind him. He leads you from the entryway to the closed door of the bedroom. Two feathers pushed the doors open revealing a stunning bedroom. Your jaw falls in shock once more.

The room was huge, decked in neutral-toned colors, floor-to-ceiling windows, mood lighting, and a large bed in the center. “Seems like you two were plannin’ on bringin’ someone home.” Dabi's voice made you jump, he stood in the doorway beside Keigo.

“It wasn’t exactly Rumi’s plan.” He admits, leaning against the taller man. Dabi pulls the hero close, pressing a kiss to his hairline. You were too enraptured with the room to hear their conversation only for Keigo to speed past you.

He collapses onto the bed, sprawling out onto the sheets of the massive bed.

You jump feeling a quick smack to your ass. “Get on up there, princess.” Dabi coos, following behind Keigo. You watch as he kisses the blond, straddling his waist, and pinning his hands beside his head. “You heard him, right?” Rumi’s voice scared you. “Relax, honey.”

“And take that pretty dress off, I wanna get a few things.” Rumi was already taking off her heels, allowing them to clatter to the floor.

You followed her orders perfectly, stripping yourself of your dress only to be stopped by a warm hand. “Let me help you.” Dabi stared at you with such intensity and lust, a look you’ve seen from him many times but, this was different. A kind of gentleness resting behind his gaze.

“Da—“ He hushes you. Carefully, his hands slip beneath the strap of your dress, knocking them off your shoulders. “Calm down, doll.” His hands were hot as they pulled your dress down your legs, lips attached to your skin, leaving lavender memories for you to find later.

You're gently pushed onto the bed and he follows suit, back to kissing your sensitive skin.

Keigo moves to the other side of you, kissing your thighs in worship. You felt as if you were on a cloud, having two men adore your body felt amazing. The men met at your hipbones, staring at each other over you before leaning in for another heated kiss.

Their tongues tangled with each other, strings of spit slipping from their mouths and down onto your heated skin. You writhed and whimpered, watching the two men delve into such intimacy. Keigo's hand was quick to find your clothed cunt, dragging his fingers up and down your soaked folds. Your hips canted up, breaking their kiss. “Calm down, princess.” Dabi’s voice made you shiver, heart pounding harder in your chest.

His scarred lips are pressed against your panty-clad clit, eliciting a beautiful moan from your kiss-swollen lips. He sloppy kissed your clit, laving over it with his tongue, moaning each time you writhed beneath him and the blonde.

A throat clearing makes your eyes snap open.

Rumi stands at the end of the bed, lilac strap-on standing proudly before her. “I see you all are getting along well.” She gets a chorus of moans in return. Your panties were soaked in drool from the men, all of it mixing with your arousal and making it drip and coat your cunt and ass. “Such a sight for sore eyes,” Rumi crawls onto the bed, slowly. Dabi and Keigo slowly pull back from your cunt as she made her way towards you. “Such obedient boys, hmm?” She grabbed their jaw.

Keigo melted immediately, a doe-eyed look on his face while Dabi was the complete opposite. A look of annoyance and embarrassment washes over him before he pulls from her grip.

“Thank you for gettin’ her nice n’ wet f’me.” Her red gaze was now on you and you nearly cried. She was all muscle and curves.

Heavy tits sitting perfectly on her chest, thick thighs on full display, wet pussy hidden by her harness and strap. She noticed your gaze, spitting on her hand and slicking up the toy. “You wan’ this? Hmm?” She hums, teasing you without even touching you. “You want Mommy’s big cock inside you, baby?” You whimpered loudly, nodding quickly. She laughs at you, loud and mean. “Yeah? Okay, I’ll give it to you, honey.”

She leaned down, hovering over you. “‘M gonna ruin you, baby.” She teases your slick folds with the tip, dragging it down from your clit to your sopping hole and back up again. She repeated this motion several times, watching as your resolve slowly broke until you were clinging to her and whining for her to just, “Put it in already!”

She answered your prayers soon enough, her thick cock splitting you open on her pretty strap. A moan is ripped from the deepest parts of you. “Fuck, so tight.” Her eyes stared down at your hole, watching how your walls held her. Rumi pulls out slowly, pushing back in just a little deeper. She keeps her thrusting at a steady slow pace, watching as you squirm beneath her.

You were growing slightly impatient, wrapping your legs around her waist, trying to push her deeper. She ignored your pleas and pinned your arms as you went to grab her. “Mph-please,” You beg, getting tired of the slowness. “F-Faster, Mommy.” Her ears perked up, her body going rigid for a moment. Her tail moved quickly, tickling your ankles and calves. She kicked into overdrive, pulling out quickly and pounding into you with a loud ‘squelch!’ You felt all of the air get punched out of you and you didn’t even get a moment to recover.

She fucked into you quickly, thick cock slamming into your cervix without care. You keened and cried, happy you got your wish. “Fuh-fuck yes, Mommy!” You cry, tears wetting your hazy eyes and flushed cheeks. “More-muh-more!” Her pretty hands wander down to your clit, rubbing tight circles on your soaked cunt.

Her other hand dragged over your figure, gently stimulating you but, making you beg for more. Your eyes roll to see Dabi mounted behind Keigo, the younger male's wings spread and twitching as his eyes roll. Finger digging into the fabric as he cried out your best friend’s name.

The ghost-like touch of her hands caressing your bosom and the heavy pressure of her strap, deep inside your gummy walls, made you squirm.

Some cry out when they cum. Backs arched and lips open in a shout. They’ll cry for their mothers, god, or anything their lust-hazed minds can possibly name in the heat of the moment.

You were definitely a part of that group.

Whenever your hands or your silicone toy has brought you to another orgasm, you’d cry out and arch your back in ecstasy before falling back into the comfort of warm sheets.

Now you cried out her name, back arched high off the bed as you cum just for her. She laps it all up, her non-stop thrusts dragging it on for what felt like ages. “Such a good baby,” She coos, bringing her lips down to nibble at your collarbone. “There you go, cum ‘round this strap, honey.” You cried out at each sharp thrust, feeling her so deep inside you, that it drove you crazy.

Your silky walls throbbed, slick continuing to leave rings of creamy white around her strap. Your hips jerked suddenly, trying to pull away from her. “Too much? Hmm?” You nod quickly, breathless and lightheaded. Your bleary vision focused on Keigo next to you, eyes crossed as Dabi fucked him into oblivion, drooling trailing from between his pretty swollen lips.

“Okay, okay.” Rumi’s thrusts come to a stop as she stays nestled inside you. Her lips wrap around your nipple, gently sucking at the hard bud. “So good, baby.” She hums, tongue curling around your bruised breasts.

“Gonna let Mommy cum, hmm? Mommy’s gonna cum for you, baby.” She kisses your chest, removing her hand to rub at her own clit. Her heavy strap rested against your cunt and stomach. Her mouth covers your own, allowing you to swallow each of her moans as she draws herself over the edge.

Soon, she came so prettily. Moans flowed freely as she tossed her head back before burying it into your neck. She shivered against you, kissing your neck and rubbing your hips.

You two lay in the aftermath, lulled into relaxation by the steady moans and thrusts of the couple next to you. A wing suddenly smacks you in the face, forcing your eyes open in frustration. Keigo’s back was arched so prettily. Wings fanned out, mouth hung open as rope after rope of cum splurt out from his throbbing cock. Dabi soon toppled over the edge after him. Filling him to the brim then, pulling out to watch it pour from his abused hole.

You all lay in the bed, catching your breath after all of the pent-up sexual tension came to fruition.

“Fuck,” Dabi was the first to speak. “Need ‘nother blunt.” Keigo laughed, rolling onto his back. Rumi nuzzled your neck, pressing more kisses. Dabi sat up, stretching himself out, getting up to grab his coat. Rumi sat up, removing her strap which left pretty indents on her dark skin. Dabi returned, holding a baggie and his packet of papers.

Dabi leaned to the side, using Rumi’s nightstand to roll a few blunts. Everyone took a moment to breathe, coming down from their long-awaited orgasm of the night. You knew it wasn’t over though. Golden eyes traced over your bare skin, flickering from your blissed-out face to your still-dripping cunny.

You could feel the throb from your cunt once you see his cock, slowly twitching back to life. You two kept your eyes on each other while Rumi and Dabi spoke. You both slide closer to each other, sitting with still a bit of room between you two.

Suddenly, you two surged towards each other, lips locking in a heated kiss. Hands roaming all over each other's figures. Pulling hair, grabbing feathers. You both pull away, panting and sloppy. “Wan’ you to suck my cock, baby.” He was slightly out of breath, puffs of air fanning your face. “Wan’ fuck ‘his pretty pussy.” He was still slightly delirious, both of your eyes practically mimicking hearts.

Your hands drift down to his already hard cock, gently stroking him as he cooes so prettily beside you.

“Such a pretty cock, Kei.”

He whines and keens, your thumb swirling around his cockhead, collecting any stray precum. You stared down at the blonde’s cock lovingly, enjoying his purrs and moans. Your cunt was throbbing, slick leaking down your thighs and onto the sheets. You need Keigo, desperately. You hardly wasted any time. Dropping down and wrapping your lips around his pretty cock.

His hips cant up into your mouth before you held him still, suckling his pretty head while he cried beneath you. “S-so good, ___! Feels so fuckin’-ah!” He was so sensitive from his previous fucking, twitching wildly in your mouth and already pumping drops of precum into your mouth. “S’fuh-hmm!” He tosses his head back, running his fingers through your hair before grabbing a decent handful. Dabi and Rumi sat on the sidelines.

Sharing a blunt between the two of them, watching you both indulge in each other. Keigo panted erratically. Already feeling the burn of overstimulation from his previous heavy orgasm. Your mouth was his vice, one he couldn't get rid of. A few feathers part from his vermillion wings, caressing over your body. Carefully winding around your breasts and legs, squeezing tightly onto your nipples.

“Fuck, fuck! Need ta’ ma-make you feel good ___!” Keigo gasps out, followed by the buzzing of a toy Rumi set on the bed early. He teases your hole, circling the cylinder around and coating it in your juices. You initially jumped once it made contact with your clit, taking the blonde’s cock further down your throat and moaning around him.

Pleased by your reaction, he continued to circle your clit and slap it against your sobbing cunt.

Finally, he plunges the vibrator deep inside of you, the thickness of it filling your walls and making you cry out. He kept his cock deep in your throat, fucking into your warmth while his feathers continued to please you. The two on your nipples curled and uncurled, effectively pinching you. The small one on your clit, buzzing quickly and making you gush. Several around your body, gently dragging up and down, keeping you on this edge.

His pretty hands brushed your hair out of your face, wanting to watch as you fell apart for him. “S’good, baby!” He tosses his head back with a loud moan. “Fuckin’ hell! This mouth so fuckin’ good, ‘m gonna cum down yer’ throat, dove!” He was losing his composure, wings unable to stay still as they fluttered and trembled. He was writhing beneath you, fully caught up in the pleasure of your mouth as you bobbed on his cock.

Your walls were tight, squeezing around the buzzing toy. The rope in your stomach was unraveling as you gagged and choked on Keigo’s cock. Each sound forces you closer and closer to your own orgasm. “Please, please!” He begged, seemingly to any higher power. Dabi leans over, stroking his hair and kissing his face. “Such a good boy, Kei.”

“C’mon, cum for her, Keigo.” Rumi joined in, rubbing his chest and hips.

“I’m—gah, ah—fuck!” His lips part in a silent cry, an angel’s plea. Tears were running down his face, matching your own. You two came together; Your walls squeezing around the silicone toy and his cock pumping into your throat. He emptied himself into your mouth. You came with him, gushing around the toy as you swallow his cum. As an attempt to slow your breathing, you drink aloof his arousal. Pulling off his now softening cock with a dopey grin only to fall onto him in exhaustion.

You laid nearly lifeless over top of Keigo. Rumi and Dabi quickly come to your aid. Pulling you off of each other. Rumi cradles the shaking blonde, stroking his hair as he cries. You curled in on yourself, quivering as tears rolled down your cheeks. “Oh no, it’s okay. You both did so good. So good.” Your mind couldn't process what was happening anymore. Brain so clouded, your eyes couldn't focus on your surroundings.

You lay there, shaking, and shut your eyes. Slipping into an uncomfortable unconsciousness.

You were so out of it. High on weed and your numerous orgasms of the night. Your body ached in overstimulation, shivers wracking through you periodically. Heated hands run up and down your quivering body.

“Shhh, relax, princess.” A voice rasps in your ear, kisses pressed down your spine. You lay on your stomach, trying to calm down and stop your hyperventilating. “I know, I know,” He cooes, continuing his motions. “You’re doin’ so well f’us. Doin’ so fuckin’ well.” You relaxed under his grip, eyes slowly fluttering open.

“Can you hear me, princess?” You nod, tapping on the bed a few times. “Good, good.” He moves to cuddle you more easily, one of his arms moving to support your head. “You wanna keep goin’? I’m not gonna force you to take more if ya’ can’t.” Your mouth was dry, probably a factor of cotton mouth but, you swallowed enough spit to coat your throat.

“Yes, please,” You take another large swallow. “Wan’ more.” Dabi chuckles, lightly smacking your inner thigh. “Dumb little slut wants more cock?” He purrs in your ear, moving to straddle you. “Yes, Dabi. Wan’ more.” He manhandles you, forcing you more onto your stomach then, pushing your knees in so you’d be presenting for him, ass in the air.

“Such a gorgeous ass,” He spreads your cheeks apart, watching as your cunt drools for him. “Sloppy girl.” He dives down, kissing your messy hole. Your jolt forwards, whining loudly into the pillows. “My pretty girl.” His scarred lips tainted your hole, smothering and lapping up any juices that spilled out of you.

His jeweled fingers soon join, slipping into your abused hole. “Da-Dabi!” You jolted forward, moving away from him. A sharp smack is landed right onto your left asscheek, followed by two extra.

“Who the fuck are you runnin’ from, huh?” His voice was deep as he growled the words at you. Sharp teeth soon dig into your ass. You cried out, once again moving from the blossoming pain. Dabi spanks your cunny, cackling at your cries. “Answer me you fuckin’ brat.” He tugs your hair, forcing you back to stare at him from upside down. Tears were in your eyes once again, threatening to pour out at any moment.

“‘M suh-sorry, Dabi.” You were begging for sympathy. “Nuh uh, apologize right.” Your brain was so hazed, you searched his eyes hoping for an answer.

“‘M sorry, Daddy.” He smirks widely, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Good fuckin’ girl.” He kisses your lips softly, letting go of his rough hold. “You wan’ my cock, hmm?” - “Yes, Daddy. Want your cock, daddy.” A pleased smile worked its way onto his face.

Dabi readjusts your position, pushing your head into the pillows. “Be good for me, princess.” His leaking cockhead drags through your folds, starting from your clit and dragging down. You whine and push back onto him, hoping for more. He stops, slapping his pierced shaft against your soaked cunny. “Bet this pretty pussy’s so tight,” He grabs your hips as he begins to push in. “So tight and fuckin’ wet.” Dabi growls.

Feeling each cold bulb of his pierced dick sliding into your tight heat made you keen into the sheets. Fisting them tightly between your fists and jaw falling open. “Ah—fuck me…” His voice was slow and drawn out as he pushed through your gummy walls. “Fuck yes, Daddy.” You pant, drooling onto the mussed sheets. Once he’s fully seated, he slowly pulls back out; Letting another beautiful moan flow from his tainted lips.

After a few agonizing thrusts, ripping whines, and whimpers from you, his thrusts pick up the pace. “Came four fuckin’ times an’ you’re still tight as a virgin?” The dark-haired man snarls, fucking into your tight cunt quickly.

His slow pace became fast and ruthless. “Oh shit, Daddy!” You shouted, picking your head up for a breath of fresh air. You moan shamelessly into the air, eyes hazed in pleasure.

“Please—shit—please, please! Sluh—slow down!” The air was being punched out of your lungs. You could feel his cock in your stomach, making a very obvious bulge protrude from your stomach. “Pluh—please! Stop, Daddy! ‘S too much!”

“Ugh—god! Daddy, please!” His cock rammed your cervix, uncaring that you begged him to stop. His fingers dug into your hips in a bruising grip, keeping you upright as he used your dripping cunt. “Creamin’ on daddy’s dick already, hmm?” He growled in your ear, biting at the lobe. “Just started and you're already fallin’ apart.” His hips roughly smacked into your ass, pleasingly reddening your skin.

Dabi’s thrusts were precise and sharp, nailing your sweet spot each, and every time. “Squeezin’ me so damn tight, baby,” His head falls between your shoulder blades. His forehead presses against your sticky skin. “Cum for me, doll. Cum all over Daddy’s dick.” Voice ragged from strain. His fingers trail down to your clit, weaving tight circles to bring you to the edge and you followed his order. Cumming loudly around his thick cock. Cunt pulsating and gushing around him as he moans in pleasure. Praising you for being so damn good for him.

“My good girl, my good fuckin’ girl!” His voice hitches as his hips stutter. “Fuck ‘m gonna cum, pretty.” He presses hot kisses to your back, lips dragging against your skin as he continues to fuck you roughly. You were breathless, barely hanging on to consciousness as he pistons in and out of your abused cunny. You wouldn't be walking for weeks.

“Gonna fill up this tight pussy, m’kay, baby?” You nodded slowly, caught in your post-orgasm haze. The world covered by a thick smoke screen. He grips your waist hard as he spills into your womb, hips continuing their movements as he fucks his cum deep inside of you. Finally, he collapsed onto you. Kisses and mumbled apologies pressed into your skin; Digging into your brain.

The room's air was thick with smoke and lust. Everyone panting and returning to their previous reality. You and Keigo were down for the count. Both lay flat on your faces, panting wildly and eyes shut.

“Y’done?” You lay on the bed in a daze. Mouth parted, drool spilling onto the cool silk sheets. Body shivering from overstimulation and the crisp air. Holes twitching, nearly violently as slick and cum pour out of you. Your eyes are unfocused, staring ahead of you. If it weren’t for the rise and fall of your body, they would’ve thought you were dead.

“Let’s clean ‘em up, get ‘em in bed.” Dabi is already scooping you in his comforting grip. She helps Keigo up, leading you all to the bathroom. A soft kiss is pressed to your hairline, making you hum in content.

“I gotcha, princess.”

[dollfacefantasy]

Under the Influence ♡

pairing: dick grayson x fem!reader

summary: when you and dick are left with an extra sedative after a mission goes wrong, you share a little fantasy of yours with him

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, intoxication kink, drugs + drinking, praise + degradation

word count: 3k

tags: @nexysworld @gor3-hound

"I wonder how it feels."

The simple sentence falling from your lips was the start of this whole thing. Dick turned to where you sat at the bar next to him sipping your drink. He raised an eyebrow, trying to determine if that was some sort of attempt at a joke.

"I don't think it's a real mystery," he says and shrugs, "We were basically gonna roofie the guy."

The two of you had been assigned by Bruce to follow a suspect potentially involved with a string of recent kidnappings. You were to incapacitate him, and then bring him to a rendezvous where he could be questioned upon his return to consciousness. Only the problem tonight was that the target hadn't shown up where he was supposed to, leaving you and your boyfriend with an extra sedative on hand.

"Yeah, I know that," you respond with a roll of your eyes, "But... I don't know. You never wonder how it would feel?"

"No," he nearly laughs at you. He struggled to see why that thought would ever cross his or your mind. Taking another swig of his drink, he can see you leaning in closer out of the corner of his eye.

"You never think about how it would feel, getting all dizzy? Drifting off and feeling totally dazed, other people doing everything for you?" you ask, your voice getting softer as your breath fans over his ear.

"No, but I'm starting to get an idea why you might," he says and glances over at you again, "You have something you wanna tell me?"

Next thing he knows, your hand is on his thigh and you're looking at him with the sweetest pair of puppy dog eyes you can manage. Your nose is close enough to brush against his own. If he had to guess, he'd say you'd had this little fantasy for a while now.

"Lemme try it, Dick. Gimme the pill," you plead, "It'll be fun. Everything'll be up to you, every thought in my head up to you."

A smirk grows on his face at your devotion. Your desire to give him so much control over you that it felt like ownership. His fingers come up to your jaw, holding you by the chin as he kisses you. It's lingering and wet. A little bit of saliva coats your bottom lip when he pulls away.

"Y'know... if you wanted to try something like this, all you had to do was ask," he says lowly.

Smiling, you peck his lips again as his hand slides past you to drop the tablet in your drink. You nip at his bottom lip before pulling back and reaching for your glass to down some more of the liquid within it. You go to put it down, but he stops you by your wrist.

"Not yet, sweetheart. I want you to drink the rest for me. You want your head to get all nice and fuzzy, don't you?" he says.

You nod while staring into his pretty blue eyes. The cup returns to your lips and the rest of the booze slides down your esophagus.

"Good girl," he croons. His amorous smile begins to reach his eyes as his voice continues to lower, his words meant for you and only you. "Let's get you another one of those before we go."

He orders one more, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. Once the bartender brings it to you, his lips find the space behind your ear and tease you there while you drink.

"Look at you, doing so well for me. You're so eager to shut that brain of yours off," he coos.

You nod again and nurse your glass until it's empty. Your head is already starting to swirl a bit, and you wonder if the blossoming arousal in your belly has any effect on it. You can't help melting into Dick's affection right now, your head floating over to rest against his. He hums in approval and nuzzles the crook of your neck.

"Feeling it already, baby? Or do I get you dizzy all by myself?" he mocks.

"Shut up," you mumble, your eyes fluttering shut. It felt like the music was slowly getting louder while your surroundings were sliding further away. Dick was the anchor keeping you from slipping away with it all.

He chuckles at your defiance and decides it's time for the two of you to head out. The drug was entering your system, and Dick didn't think it would be the smartest idea to make your exit by tossing you over his shoulder while you were knocked out.

He tucks you to his side and guides you over through the doors over to the car. He can almost see the gears in your head slowing down on the walk to the vehicle alone. You stay pressed up against his toned torso until he can get the passenger door open and deposit you in the front seat. Once he's done, he leans down, buckling you in and giving you a quick kiss on the lips.

"Such a sweet girl," he praises before heading over to his own side of the car. You lazily preen at the compliment. He can't help but laugh at how delayed the reaction is.

The drive back to your apartment feels like it only takes a minute. You don't know if that's because Dick is as eager as you are or if the sedative has already stolen your perception of time. All you know is that your eyes start to droop, and your head tilts over and bonks against the glass window. It feels nice and cool though, so you keep it there.

When he parks the car, you feel like you're still in motion. The world feels like it's spinning all around you, rotating in every direction all at once. You don't even hear his commands to you before he opens your door and you nearly topple out onto the pavement. His quick reflexes and strong arms spare you a busted up face.

He smiles as he pulls you up to stand beside him and locks up the car. You're considerably more out of it than you were while leaving. He leads you to the elevator and pulls you inside. Standing behind you, he laces his arms around your waist and rests his chin over your shoulder.

"You wanna press the button, honey?" he murmurs in your ear. His grin becomes absolutely smug as your head wags back and forth in a haphazard gesture for no. "Oh, why not? Need me to do that for you too? Silly girl, can't even hit a button by yourself anymore."

He pushes you against the wall as the elevator car starts to move. The spinning feels even stronger than before now that you're physically moving vertical. He kisses you deeply, his tongue sliding into your mouth and tussling with your own. He can taste the liquor on you. The manifestation of your mental state.

A few seconds later, a ding sounds through the confined space. You miss it for obvious reasons, but it nearly passes Dick by too. He's so wrapped up in you, his hands sliding up your sides to cup your breasts. But he does reluctantly pull away, reveling in how disheveled you look from less than a minute of making out.

Now he has the privacy to take you over his shoulder, and he does. He boosts you by the hips and drapes you over himself like it's nothing. You giggle too loud for this time of night. Your feet swing weakly in what are probably your distorted mind's version of kicking. He gives you a firm swat on the ass while walking down the hallway to your shared unit.

"Calm down, angel. Don't wanna drop you on your head before we get to the best part," he teases.

You laugh more, the idea of a cracked skill greatly amusing your intoxicated mind. He shakes his head with amusement and squeezes your ass cheek. As soon as he reaches the door, his free hand fishes the keys out of his pocket and makes quick work of the lock.

He kicks the door shut behind the both of you and glides through the apartment to your bedroom. You go flying onto the mattress when he flings you from over his shoulder to the soft blankets. More little giggles pour from your lips, and he takes a moment to enjoy the sight of you, his usually focused and determined girlfriend squirming on the bed and laughing her ass off at nothing in particular.

Crawling onto the bed, he positions himself on top of you.

"What's so funny, baby? Think you should share the joke with me?" he says as he leans down to kiss you again.

Your lips kiss back as best they can. His shaggy black locks brush across your forehead as he deepens the exchange, picking up where you left off in the elevator. You're still simpering slightly against his lips, but it doesn't stop him from keeping your head in place and absorbing you through the kiss.

"What's got you so happy, hm?" he mocks.

"You," you grin against his lips.

"Me?" he asks between smooches, feigning ignorance, "I'm the reason you got that pretty smile on right now."

"Yeah," you laugh and boost your head up overzealously for more.

He pushes you back down and kisses you harder before pulling back completely and gazing down at you. His hand cups your cheek, his thumb rubbing over your skin. You return the look with glossy doe eyes, only somewhat aware of everything that's going on.

"Are you sure it's me? Or is it my kisses?" he asks teasingly, "I know how you love kissing."

"Those are the same thing," you say as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Oh, are they? My mistake, princess," he says and ducks down to give you more.

He can feel your limbs wriggling underneath him, trying to slip out of your clothes. It's too big a task for you right now. Your movements weren't strong or coordinated enough. All you managed to do was get tangled up in your outfit and make it look as if you were wearing a straightjacket.

"Woah, woah," he chuckles, "Let me help with that, baby. That's too hard for you right now, isn't it? Your brain can't handle all that."

With his careful movements, he maneuvers your arms out of your top, and removes your bottoms as well, leaving you in a delicate pair of panties and your bra.

"So precious," he coos as his fingertips ghost over your now bare skin.

You squirm like a virgin and smile shyly like Dick isn't your boyfriend but rather a little crush. It's now his turn to laugh at your behavior.

"Yeah, you know you're precious, don't you? Even when you're all dumb like this," he says while his fingers work away at the clasp of your bra, pulling it from your chest.

You sigh as your tits are freed from their confines. His mouth trails down your jaw, over your neck, and to your chest. He kisses your cleavage first, just massaging the mounds of flesh with tender hands. It's not long before his lips move up one of them and latch onto a nipple. He swirls his tongue around the bud and feels it harden from his efforts.

You moan and arch your back, the drug erasing the part of you that suppresses your reaction to pleasure. Your thighs rub against one another until his hands slide between them and pull them apart. He grinds himself against your center, drawing more mewls from you.

"That feeling good? You're never gonna be too out of it to understand that," he breathes before licking a stripe over your one nipple and moving to the other.

He quickly removes his own shirt so his skin can press against yours while his mouth works on your breasts. Your hips roll against his as he continues to grind. His bulge grows harder and he can already tell that the fabric of your panties is clinging to your folds from how wet you were.

His hand slips down to confirm his theory. He chuckles against your tit when he feels how slick you are. Completely soaked. His digits slide through your arousal with ease.

"We're gonna have to do this more. Who knew all it took was a few drinks and a tiny pill to turn you into a total slut," he mocks.

"'m always a slut for you," you slur and reach up to pull his hair, wanting his lips back on your own.

He indulges you and moves up again to kiss you.

"That's true. Bet you were wet before you even took the pill. Your pussy was probably dripping just imagining it," he mutters.

His fingers hook around the hem of your panties and tug them down. He then works on shoving his own pants off and releasing his stiff cock from its restraints.

"My pussy drips whenever I look at you," you say. He knows it's supposed to be seductive, but it comes out sounding like a confession. That and you burst into another giggling fit after. Either way he finds it cute.

"That's cause I've got you so well trained," he tells you as his length springs free. He pumps it while guiding it to your entrance. "She knows to always be ready for me. Even when your head can't keep up."

He slides it in you with no resistance. Your heat welcomes him readily, squeezing around him with instinctive speed. You choke out a moan from how he sinks all the way in. There was no need to go slow or tease. You were ready, and you were in no state to be teased. Your pussy squelches around him as he rocks his hips, starting to thrust. You turn your head to his own to try and bury your face against him. The pleasure felt more distant in a way, but it was still present and building with every stroke.

"There you go, sweetheart. This is so natural for you. Head empty with your cunt stuffed full," he croons, "Taking it like a perfect little whore."

You whine and nod faintly, the words swirling around the air before sinking into your head. He ruts into you harder. Your juices gush from you and smear over both of your skin while your head bobs from the momentum he's putting into fucking you.

"Dickkkkk," you whine and grab at him aimlessly.

He presses you harder down into the bed and grunts against your neck. His fingers hold your hips tight enough to leave marks. Fine with him. He wouldn't mind a reminder for the next few days of tonight.

"Surprised you can even remember my name, babydoll," he taunts.

"I'd never forget that," you babble.

He chuckles breathily at your words. They were pretty sweet to come out of someone getting pounded into the mattress. Sounds of his skin smacking against yours emanate through the room. His shiny hair becomes damp with sweat.

"My baby, all mine, yeah?" he murmurs. 

No response comes from you this time. Instead, you yelp as he swivels his hips and drills into a special spot inside you. Every time he strikes it, it's like any remaining power you have to function seeps out of your brain.

"Oh, there she goes," he coos as he watches you slip away, "That's my girl."

"Dick, fuck ah-" you whimper weakly.

He nuzzles your cheek. "Don't try to talk. That's too hard for you right now. Pretty little thing like you just needs to stay quiet and let herself get fucked full."

"Mkay..." you mumble. Your expression is a mix of that stupid little smile from before and a pouty look you often took on when you got horny. He couldn't get enough of either.

"Fuck... 'm gonna cum soon, angel," he groans. You tighten up even more like you're trying to keep him inside forever.

He hisses at the sensation. Shoving his hand between your bodies, he slides his fingers over your clit, stoking the flames of your arousal to get you to explode for him.

You're not lucid enough to tell him you're close. You just let go. Your eyes flutter and your legs kick. Your heels dig into the mattress while you gasp and whine in his ear.

Once you've cum, it's like a switch flips in your brain, and it knocks you the fuck out. You're babbling nonsense for him, panting and clinging to his sweaty body as best you can while going limp. You vaguely feel him cum inside you, the familiar warm and comfy feeling of being full overtaking you.

He collapses on top of you after he releases. Waves of pleasure still course through him like aftershocks. Your bodies feel like one as your chests puff against one another's.

Eventually he climbs off of you, and looks down at you to see how gone you are. He chuckles softly as he watches you try to curl up and sleep right then and there. He goes into the bathroom and grabs a towel, returning to clean the both of you up.

You can sort of feel it. It's a gentle swiping feeling. He's so careful with you though, so gentle. He makes sure no touch startles you or hurts. When he's done, he slides a fresh pair of panties on you and pulls an old t-shirt over your head. You sway in place as he does it, and he finds your perpetual daze as cute as all the moans from minutes ago.

"Almost done, sweet girl," he murmurs as he finishes up. The words don't register exactly, but you understand them as a comfort. The low and soothing tone he used was familiar enough to you for your mind to understand it without specifics.

When he really is done with everything, he finally returns to you. You pull at him with grabby hands and curl right up to his chest, wanting to be held. He was never one to deny you normally, so there was no way he would while you were all sleepy and confused. He pecks your temple and rubs your back, prepared to baby you until the sedative has completely left your system.

[charrlote365]

The Fox's Roulette.

Reference Idol: fromis_9 LEE SAEROM Word Count: 15.798 Tags: Romance, pits, Kpop idol, fromis_9, Lee Saerom

PART 1 The neon lights from street flickered through the window, casting a yellow ray across the polished counter of my bar(PIC 1). The bar has already closed but I was not quite finish working yet, because tonight, my regular customer, also a close friend was visiting. Fate indeed works in a mysterious way, I never thought owning and working in a bar would give me a chance to have a KPOP idol as a friend. Saerom, the leader of fromis_9(PIC2), honored my humble establishment as her first choice to have her favorite activity: Drinking.

Saerom and I had formed a friendship over the years. Despite her celebrity status, she found happiness and comfort in my small bar, away from the spotlight world. I knew her even before we were friends, because after all, I was also a Flover, and you don't have to guess who is my ult bias. It's her. Thankfully she didn't know about this, so we can have a comfortable chit chats. I always know that she was a shy soul, despite of her sharp glares on performances.

As the late night seeping through, the empty glasses were pilling up, yet Saerom's laughter filled the air. She looked happier than usual(PIC3), her cheeks flushed with the warmth of the alcohol. I watched her with a mixture of amusement and concern, knowing she had drunk a bit too much than usual.

"Hey, Saerom," I said, leaning against the counter. "You've had quite a few tonight. Maybe it's time to call it a night?"

Saerom pouted, raising a glass filled with beer high up, her gaze unfocused(PIC4). "But I don't wanna go home yet. I drove here by myself, so I can't drive back home now. You don't want anything bad happen to me, your biggest spender, do you?? bad bad bartender.. hehe..hiccups. Hey, can't I just stay here with you?"

PART 2 I can't believe what I just heard. "What did she just say?!!", I shouted loud in my heart. I hesitated, torn between my duty as a caring friend and the unspoken rules of propriety both as a fan and decent human being. But it seems the devil has won this time, I just can't let go this chance, to spend the night together with my most beloved person on earth, Lee, Saerom.

"Yeah, yeah, alright," I relented with a smile. "You can stay, but only if you promise not to cause too much trouble."

Saerom grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I promise."

As the night deepen, Saerom and I settled into our usual spot by the tinted window. The conversation flowed effortlessly between us, filled by laughter and personal stories.

"Hey," she said hesitantly, her voice was swaying around. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," I replied, trying to guess why the sudden change of mood.

Saerom hesitated for a moment, her gaze fixed on the swirling liquid in her glass as if searching for the right words. "Are you… a fan of our group?"

Panic gripped me as I struggled with the secret I kept. I wondered why she asked that so suddenly. But with a deep breath, I looked her in the eye and confessed, letting honesty flow from within.

"Yes," I admitted, the word slipping out before I could stop it. "I am."

Saerom's eyes widened in surprise. "Really? I had no idea."

"Well, I'm glad that you do. At least I know you like us as a KPOP group, I think we're not doing that bad afterall", she said with a giggle yet with a slight hint of sadness.

"So! Next question! Who do you like the most in fromis?" Saerom asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

I felt my heart skip a beat, panic rising in my chest. I hadn't expected her to ask that now, and now my secret admiration for her was on the brink of being exposed. I searched for words, trying to think what answer should I give.

"Well, um…" I stammered, rubbing the back of my neck nervously. "Honestly, it's you."

Saerom's eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, I feared I had crossed a line. But then, a warm smile spread across her face, and she leaned in closer, she put her hand on mine.

"Really? You don't need to lie to me" she asked softly, her voice filled with genuine excitement.

I nodded quickly, feeling the tension ease. "Yeah, I swear. I'm dead serious."

"What about me? Why am I your favorite?" she asked while closing her eyes with a gentle smile on her face, waiting for me to spill all her good qualities.

"It's how you're so talented and dedicated, yet still so humble. You have incredible stage presence, but you're also kind and down-to-earth. And then your smile always lights up the room and makes everyone around you feel special. You have this way of making people feel seen and appreciated. That's what makes you my favorite, and also to be honest, I really like your visual"

Saerom's eyes softened, and she squeezed my hand gently. "Aww you're making me shy now but thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "That means a lot to me."

"Hey," she began, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "I have an idea. Wait here."

Before I could ask what she meant, she stood up from her chair and disappeared into the back room where she'd left her bag. A few moments later, she returned, holding a neatly folded outfit.

"I brought my idol outfit from last performance," she explained, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "I thought… maybe I could change into it. As a thank you. For being such a great friend and fan."

I blinked, taken aback by her unexpected offer. "Are you sure? You don't have to do that."

Saerom nodded, her smile widening. "I want to. Just give me a minute."

With that, she went into the restroom, leaving me to process the surreal turn of events. My heart raced with anticipation as I imagined her in the dazzling outfit I'd only seen if I went to the stage.

PART 3 A few minutes later, the door creaked open, and Saerom stepped out. She was a vision in her idol attire, the sparkling white dress catching the light and casting a radiant glow around her. She struck a playful pose, clearly enjoying the moment(VID 1).

"So," she said, twirling her body slightly, "what do you think?"

I was frozen. She always look amazing, but able to see her up close in her idol mode hit different. "You look amazing," I finally managed to say something, my voice filled with admiration. "Thank you, Saerom, This means a lot for me."

"I'm glad you like it," she said softly. "I had wanted to do something special for you anyways". "Btw, I feel a lil bit bored, let’s play a game,” she suggested, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Roulette. But with cards. We’ll guess if it’s black or red. Whoever wins gets to ask the loser to do a truth or dare.”

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “A little risky, don’t you think?”

She giggled, “That’s the fun part! Besides, you can’t back out now. your beloved Saerom has challenged you! hehe”

I couldn’t resist her playful challenge. I Grabbed a deck of cards from behind the bar, I shuffled them thoroughly and folded one card in half, placing it in front of us. Saerom watched with focus, although I knew she was absolutely drunk like a drunk overworked old man.

“Ladies first,” I said, gesturing to the card.

“Red,” she declared confidently.

I unfolded the card—black. She groaned dramatically, throwing her head back. “Alright, bartender. Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” I replied, not wanting to waste my chance.

She leaned closer, her alcohol reeked warm breath against my nose. “so my Master, what is you first command?", she said jokingly.

PART 4 I chuckled, while thinking. "May I take pictures of you tonight?". She slightly tilted her head back, "Is that all? I don't have to do anything?". "Yes, that's enough for now", I answered while taking my first picture of her on that night (PIC 5). She looked very gorgeous, her eyes are beautiful, and I couldn't believe it that I was the only person her eyes are looking at for the whole night.

We continued the game. This time my turn. “Black.”

Saerom’s eyes twinkled as she unfolded the card—red. She clapped her hands in delight. “Yes! Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” I said, feeling a bit excited.

Her eyes scanned the empty bar, almost like checking if we're really alone, then returned to me with a sudden foxy smile. “I dare you..to show me your kinks through action, you can't back down now! haha!”

I was frozen. "A-are you crazy? I think you drank too much". "No..I'm not joking..", she replied. I looked deep into her eyes trying to confirm her decision, and it seemed she's excited about it. With that, I then asked her to raise her arms, exposing her milky, foldy pits that I love so much(PIC 6). Feeling a bit shy, I closed my eyes then moved my head closer to her pits, the scent of her perfume mixed with her sweat becoming more pronounced. They smelled sweet, almost flowerily. She tilted her arms back slightly, giving me better access, and my heart raced as I put my nose right on her pits and breathed in the delicate smell from her. I lost myself from her scent that I kissed her pits and licked them. She giggled slightly from the tickle yet didn't say anything. I kept continuing kissing and licking her pits, savoring the slightly salty, sweet and sour taste of her foldy pits meat and fat. The scent, the warmth of her pits filling my tongue, emitting an intimate taste that made my heart beats faster. Her hair brushed against my cheek, and I could feel the slight rise and fall of her breath. The world outside the bar seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of us in this moment.

PART 5 Regaining my consciousness, I realized I had gone too far. "I-I'm, sorry! I think I got carried away!"

She smiled shyly , her eyes were like she's in absolute intoxication, her breath was uncontrollable from what I just did to her, “It's okay, that was fun, I kinda enjoyed it”, she said with a giggle, her voice was gentle.

Alright, Round three. Saerom guessed red again, and this time she got it wrong again. She didn’t hesitate. “Truth or dare?”, I asked.

“Dare,” she said, feeling bold after what just happened.

She leaned in, her voice barely above a whisper. “So what do you want me to do?”, while looking sweetly to me.

I paused, considering. I must have gone crazy that time, because my very next request, was asking her to take off her clothes.

Saerom raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. She hesitated for a moment, then smiled, accepting the challenge. She held up her hands and began to slowly taking off her white dress, one finger at a time, clamping down her dress hook, then her bra, and lastly, her nipple pads. Her movements were deliberate and almost mesmerizing. I have never seen a woman undressing in front of me, let alone someone that I adore very much. Flovers keep calling her fox, but what I see she's more like a swan, every gestures she made was so satisfying to see, she almost like a ballerina, gentle and grand.

Her nipple pads came off, revealing her breast. I have never been so intimate to anyone in my life, yet right now I finally able to get into the hidden part of her personal world. I couldn’t take my eyes off her as she neatly folded the dress and bras and set them aside.

“There,” she said, her eyes twinkling with a mix of challenge and shyness. “I'm nude now. Happy?” (PIC 7)

“Very much,” I replied, my heart beating faster, I couldn't even blink, my eyes are locked onto her breasts. There was something about seeing her like this, more relaxed and natural, that made the moment even more special. I gulped, while holding myself from doing anything stupid.

Round four. I guessed black, and won. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” I said, my confidence somehow went unwavering.

I grinned, leaning closer to her. “Now, I dare you to make me as your lover tonight”.

PART 6 Without missing a beat, Saerom stood up, with bare naked body. Without a single word, she came to me and sat on my lap, facing me so closely. She kissed my lips, we ate each other lips and tongue like its a alcohol laced lollipop, it was sweet, sticky, intoxicating and I couldn't get enough of it. I was overwhelmed with all the feelings. Love, Lust and sense of loyalty filled my head all at once. She let out a little moan as I started to kiss her neck. I teased her by gently groped her breasts. she let out a little groan again, only turning me on more. I slowly started to kiss her down her chest, on her tits, sucking on her nipples. I kissed down to her tummy, while gripping hard on her thighs, then removed her underpants. I carried her on my shoulder like she was a doll. Her bare skin pressed against my chest and shoulder, they were so soft yet tender. Her body is truly the epitome of health. I laid her down on a sofa I had in the bar and I spread her legs out for me. I could see her bare pussy, open wide for me, they're perfectly shaved, with small labia and slightly pinkish. Some transparent liquid was oozing out from the precious hole, they looked almost like its begging me start stick in something into it.

I licked all the love juice that was oozing out, swallowed it, and gently bit her clit as she let out another moan. She was too perfect, too much of a goddess. she deserved the best this world could offer. My feelings to her has grown from a friend, to a fan and now the only thing I want in the world is to spend the rest of my life with her. I love her, I love her so much I could die at any moment. She started to moan louder as I licked and sucked hard. I put my fingers in her entrance and started pumping my 2 fingers into her at the same time. I curled up my fingers, making sure to hit her g-spot every time. I thrusted hard while my other hand rubbing her clit fast. I sucked her breast again, making sure all her sensitive parts are teased. Her breath hitched and she started to moan louder and finally her body convulsed wildly as she finally came. that's all I needed to know i was doing a good job. I used my hand to hold on to her hips and arched her body forward, so that we're now facing each other very closely.

PART 7 Her eyes met mine, we exchanged our breath from very close proximity and for a moment, the world seemed to pause. We then shared a kiss, turning all of our emotions into physical contact. Now that she knows I love her pits, I asked her if I could rub my dick onto her pits. She was shyly hesitant at first but she could not refuse it. She then sat on the floor raising her hands up while I stick my dick's tip on her pit fold and started rubbing it all over her pits(PIC8). I could feel the texture and the warmth from her lymph node, her pits actually enclaved deep enough to enclose my whole dick's tip. Fckkk suddenly I felt was going to come but I managed to hold it. I then moved to her back and asked her to squeeze my dick with her pits and inner arms like a sandwich. I knew she does workout regularly and that explained why her arms felt tight like a pussy. I rubbed my dick into her pits slits faster and faster, her sweat and my pre-cum made her pits extra wet and slimy as she clamped down even tighter and let out a moan "emmwahh", her moan was so cute that I finally couldn't hold it, "Ahh!! Saerom ahh!!" I spurted out my cement all over her pits and breast. My heart beat so fast that it could stop any moment and I was so lightheaded I thought I would faint, I have never felt so weak yet completed and happy in my life.

After that, she borrowed my bathroom to take a shower, while I cleaned up the mess we made on the bar's floor. When she was finished, she came out still fully naked, sitting on the bar's chair asking for a glass of scotch. "Really? more drinks??" I was baffled. "Of course! Drinking is number one!" with a smirk on her face(PIC 9). Looking at her breasts suddenly made my dick standing hard rock again, and it was clearly visible to her. Suddenly, she smiled naughtily and whispered, "Hey, wanna go another roulette round after this?" -End

[wonbin-truther]

˚⊹ ᰔೀ dream boyfriend: incoming ˚⊹ ᰔೀ

╰┈➤ mixer pt 2

the mixer was practically full wall to wall with bodies. you had lost soobin within the first few minutes of arriving, although you assumed he was with the baseball team. your sorority sisters had left some time ago, telling you they were going to grab a drink and sit outside. you told them to give you a second to join them, wanting to first finish your bottle of water before you filled your body with liquor. you craned your neck on your tiptoes, trying to peer over the crowd that had inexplicably bunched up near the kitchen entrance.

"the alcohol cant be that good," you mumbled to yourself. stepping back down. you pushed a bit closer until two voices started to become recognizable.

"shut up asshole," the distinct shrill voice of your cousin rang through the air. you froze as another voice shot back at her, although it was somewhat quieter.

"can we please not do this here?" mark pleaded, glanced around at the crowd that had formed. somi scoffed, "so you think you can block me on everything and get away with it? over my dead body," somi scoffed.

"somi plea-" mark was cut off by a stinging pain across his face. the air seemed to still as the loud slap echoed through the party and settled in the whispers of the crowd. mark touched his reddening cheek, staring at the smaller girl in front of him with disbelief.

"i dont want to hear it. this is probably because of those dumbass friends of yours. god i told you to stay away from them. they would only fill your mind with lies and try to get you away from me."

you looked over and watched as jeno extended an arm out in front of haechan who was two seconds away from jumping in.

"anything to say?" somi crossed her arms in front of her body. marks head hung low and you felt a pang in your chest seeing him look so small. with one last disgusted look, somi turned on her heels and walked away.

you watched as his friends rushed to his side, questioning him about whatever just went down. you didnt know if you should walk over or mind your business. mark looked up, suddenly making eye contact with you. your feet started moving before you could even think.

"what’re you pouring," you asked the man standing in front of the counter. he held the labelless bottle of clear liquid in front of you.

"not too sure. wanna test it out?" he smiled. something about him gave you an icky feeling but you pushed it away, excusing it as just lingering feelings over mark and somi.

"sure just a little though," you watched as he grabbed a red cup, pouring the mystery liquid into it. "you're not gonna drink?" you stared at him.

he shook his head, "designated driver for tonight. im just serving the drinks." you hummed, downing the small amount in the red cup. he watched tentatively as you scrunched your face, "ugh definitely tequila."

"you came with anyone?" the guy asked. you didnt realize but he started to inch closer and closer to where you stood. "yea choi soobin. hes number 5 on the baseball team. im just trying to find my sorority sisters," you tapped your phone screen to see if you had any texts from any of the mentioned people.

"i dont see them around."

your fight or flight started to kick in as a hand found its way to your waist. you pushed the man away, "i have a boyfriend."

"i dont see him anywhere here either," the man only got closer to you, leaning closer and closer.

"dude seriously," you tried to back away but your balance felt shaky and your vision was starting to blur.

you shook your head, trying to gain ahold of your senses as the man laughed, taking your wrists into his with a hold youre sure would cause a bruise later.

"hey! what the fuck do you think you're doing with her?" was the last voice you heard before everything faded to black.

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synopsis! it wasnt your fault mark was the first profile to appear on your instagram! and it was most definitely not your fault when you told your annoying older cousins that mark lee, the captain of your unis soccer team, was your boyfriend and somehow got him invited to the next family reunion...

tags! (closed) @haedgaf @onlyhyunjin @mmjhh1998 @nctrawberries @multifandomania @hyuoonp @kittydollzz @bathilda @413ktz @alethea-moon @meowmarkie @urlocalbeaner5 @nanaxwi @lvrholic @sunghoonsgfreal @jakeshuneybby @nosungluv @evilsailorsenshi @calumsfringe @haesungie @tommina @vantxx95 @markeroolee @soobsung @tynlvr @morkiee @sehunniepot @starfilledgaze @pickmedolls @xcosmi @nneteyamss @slayhaechan @neozon3nha @nneteyamss @lionzyon @jakeslucifer @bbina @winwintea

[hellsenthero]

A Brothers Mate

Azriel X FemReader X Cassian

You knew there was more between Azriel and Cassian, despite others' opinions of the two. You were okay with that, their relationship, but seeing your mate's happy without you was killing you.

Warnings/Themes: Smut, Language, (2.7K Words.)

MASTERLIST

-----

You knew the Illyrians were closer than they let on. Others said that the two were raised as brothers, and that may be true, but the sentiment of brotherhood had clearly changed over the centuries. Brothers didn’t look at each other like that.

Azriel leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, a few of his shadows gently swirling around him. Rhys and Mor were talking about some wine and who'd drank more of it the night before. Cassian was sitting comfortably in an armchair adjacent to Mor. One hand hung limp over the side, the other clasped around a glass of amber liquid. You sat on the couch, beside Rhys, listening to the heated debate. You listened, but your gaze was focused on the Shadowsinger and the War Lord. It was small, casual–the glances they shared, but you didn't fail to notice the rosy tint to Cassian’s cheeks or the shy little uptilt of Azriel’s lips.

It was sweet to see the love the two shared. You supported it, you wanted the best for them, but Mother above, it was heartbreaking. It was heartbreaking because you knew they didn't feel the same about you.

“Well,” you drawled, catching the attention of everyone in the room. “I'd hate to cut this riveting debate short, but I'm headed home.” You stood from your seat with a stretch and a small smile. “And it was me, by the way, that drank all the wine.” Mor and Rhys shot daggers at you with their eyes as Cassian let out a boisterous laugh.

“Should've known,” he said with a knowing look your way.

“Night all,” you said as you grabbed your things before leaving out the front door.

The air was crisp. You could smell the beginning of autumn in the air, a soft, smokey undertone that was pleasant to your senses. Your steps echoed in the night as you strolled along the paved pathways of the city. You didn't make it far before a gust of shadow swept wind brushed past you, tickling the tips of your ears.

“You don't have to walk me home.” You told the shadowsinger.

“I want to,” came Azriel's deep reply as he materialized by your side.

“I thought you'd be with Cassian right about now.” Another gust of wind picked up before a second voice answered you.

“Who says he isn't?”

You rolled your eyes at the two over protective illyrians that walked on either side of you. “Hello, Cassian.”

“Hello, sweets,”

“So you two bats are that determined to walk me home?”

“Well,” Cassian begun, nudging his shoulder against your side. “You left too soon sweets, we just wanna spend time together.”

You let out a small laugh. “Right.”

Azriel stopped you with a hand to your shoulder, his grasp was firm, but gentle.

“He's right, Y/N.”

You stepped forward and turned around to face the two males. In the low moonlight they looked even more mysterious and handsome than ever. Their wings appeared darker, more intimidating as they rose above them. You wanted to lean forward and touch the leathery membrane of their wings. You wanted to watch them shudder with pleasure from your touch, listen to their heavy breathing and deep moans. You wanted to taste them, drink their…

You breathed out and took another step back. Your wants didn't matter, the males before you weren't yours.

“You two can move on to whatever you had planned for tonight. I'll tell the others you walked me home and we had a late nightcap, if they want to know why the two of you didn't return right away.” The two males shared a look between themselves and you took that as your cue to continue on your way. You only got a few feet down the street before the males were at your side once more.

“You're more observant than you let on.” Cassian said softly.

“I'm more surprised the others haven't figured it out.” You answered.

“We've been careful. We didn't want them to know anything before you.” Azriel replied.

That comment had you pausing. “Why?”

Cassian ruffled his wings uneasily.

“Isn't it obvious?”

You wanted to believe it, wanted to believe that they felt the same about you than you did them, but you couldn't, wouldn't let yourself entertain the thought.

“No,” you said softly. You knew Cassian and Azriel could hear it for the lie it was.

Azriel stepped forward, close enough that you had to tilt your head up to meet his eyes. “Try again.” He ordered.

You swallowed. “Yes,” you breathed.

“Say it,” Cassian begged. His signature smirk was back on his face.

“I can't,” you admitted.

“C'mon sweets, say it.”

You paused, taking the moment to cherish what was possibly the last moment of your relationship with the males before you, because if you were wrong… Cauldron, if you were wrong, you think you might break. “Because,” you began, “I'm your mate.”

The males before you smiled, even Azriel, who was always very careful with hiding his emotions.

“There you go,” Azriel said, “we've been waiting for you to admit it.”

“How long have you known?” You asked.

“Long enough,” Cassian groaned. “We thought you might say something, that you felt how we did-”

“I do.” You admitted.

“Good,” Cassian breathed. “Then let’s continue home, shall we?” Cassian swept his hand out before him, motioning to continue onwards to your little apartment in the city.

The silence that followed the three of you through the night was comfortable, more comfortable than it perhaps had ever been, now that things were out in the open.

“You don’t mind sharing?” You blurted, disrupting the silence.

Cassian chuckled. “No. Do you?”

“No,” you answered truthfully.

“This bond,” Azriel began softly, “goes three ways, Y/N. It’s not a thread that branches off between us, it’s a continuous circle.”

“A continuous circle,” you murmured. It made sense, the way they looked at each other along with the way the males spoke to you. This wasn’t just some ill fated love triangle, it was the reality you had hoped it would be.

“The snake that eats its own tail.” Cassian said as he threw his arm over your shoulder.

“We don’t want to force you to accept anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“I know.” You answered as you finally reached the front door of your apartment. You stopped on your front steps, pausing for a moment before facing the males just a few steps behind you. “Do you want to come in?”

Their grins were answer enough.

The War Lord and the Spymaster had envisioned this moment many times, many ways, but living it out was something entirely different.

You led them to the living room, waving a hand to the black couch that sat against the far wall. As the males took a seat you busied yourself at the bar cart. “Drink?” You asked, already pouring out a helping for yourself.

“Yes, please.” The males answered in unison.

You made quick work of getting their drinks, pouring each a generous hand of amber liquid before facing them. “When did it click for you?” You asked.

Cassian and Azriel shared a look amongst themselves before looking back at you. “Do you-” Cassian cut himself off as you straddled his lap. His breathing stuttered as Azriel adjusted himself beside the two of you. “Do you remember that party Mor threw a few months ago?”

“Yes.”

“Well,” Azriel took over for Cassian. “It clicked for both of us that night.” Your brows rose in surprise. Up until now, you had thought the two males had separate experiences with the bond.

Azriel chuckled at your look of surprise. He layed a scarred hand on your leg before continuing on and you found yourself wishing he'd trail it up higher, closer to where you needed him.

“It was when we were dancing.” Cassian admitted. “Remember when I stumbled and stepped on your toes?”

“Yeah,” you chuckled at the memory. The War Lord who was usually so balanced on his feet, stumbling on the dance floor to the point of crushing your toes. “I recall being quite upset with you for nearly breaking my toes.”

“Yes well, I was stumbling like a fool because the bond had just snapped for me.”

“I suppose in that case I can forgive you.” You purred, leaning in closer to the male. Cassian set his glass down in favour of holding onto your hips. “And you?” You asked, turning to face Azriel.

“It was when the two of you approached me at the bar that it snapped,” Azriel paused for a brief moment. “For the both of you.”

You debated asking your next question, but figured that no matter the answer, you wouldn't mind. “Have you two…”

“Fucked?” Cassian finished for you boldly.

“Very eloquent, Cas.” Azriel muttered.

“I mean, I figured you have.” You continued. “I’ve seen the way you two look at each other.”

The males shared a look before Azriel answered. “No, we haven’t.”

“We wanted to wait for you, to at least tell you about our feelings before anything happened.” Cassian supplied.

You paused, a slow, knowing smile creeping up on your face. “You romantic fucking bastards.” The males laughed–Azriel’s hand traveled further up your leg. He was so, so close to where you wanted him. “Go higher, Shadowsinger.”

The Shadowsinger complied.

“Mother above the two of you are making me fucking hard.” Cassian groaned.

“Join in.” You demanded as you ground your hips down on his hardening length. Cassian laid one hand on top of Azriels own, right on your hip. The other hand raised to the side of your breast, caressing you over your clothing as he leaned in and began kissing up your neck.

You tilted your head to the side, giving the War Lord better access to your neck as Azriel dipped his fingers under the band of your underwear. His scar covered hand teased your slit, sliding through your wetness to find your bundle of nerves.

“Yes!” You gasped in pleasure as Azriel toyed with you.

Azriel’s warm breath ghosted over you as he chuckled. “So wet.” He murmured.

“Let me taste.” Cassian ordered.

Azriel brought his hand away from your heat and over to Cassian's open mouth. Cassian hummed around Azriels two fingers. If the moment weren’t so intimate, you would ask Feyre to paint a picture of the look in Cassian’s eyes as he licked your juices off of the Shadowsingers fingers. “My turn.” Azriel said. You expected him to dip his fingers back down into your core. Instead, Azriel pulled his fingers free from Cassian’s mouth and leaned in, kissing him.

That, was what you would get Feyre to paint if you could. The two males clung onto you as they devoured each other. Cassian’s hips shifted up, grinding into your core. “She likes it, Az.”

Azriel pulled away with a chuckle. “Of course she does.” The Shadowsingers hazel eyes met your own. “I think it’s time we move this to the bedroom.”

You didn’t take your time going to the bedroom. The three of you were a rushed mess of scattered clothes, heavy breathing and tangled limbs by the time you found yourself spread out on your sheets. “Need you,” you panted. The males in the room knew it wasn’t directed at anyone in particular.

“Need this?” Azriel asked as he slid two of his fingers inside of you.

“Fuck,” you gasped.

“That’s not an answer, sweets.” Cassian said. The War Lord was kneeling beside you, tugging at his cock as he watched Azriel pleasure you.

“Yes,” you answered. “I need this, please, don’t stop.”

“I don’t plan on it.” Azriel answered before he leaned over you. The hand that wasn’t inside you gently grabbed hold of your throat, securing you to the bed as he kissed you. His shadows caressed your body. Cool, dark tendrils that were both an extension of him and their own being entirely. Cassian’s free hand followed the shadows path along you body, bringing warmth back into your body after the shadows cool touches.

“I need more.” You demanded from the males above you. Cassian and Azriel shared a look, both pausing in their movements.

“Who do you want first?” Azriel asked.

You paused, thinking. “You,” you answered back to the Shadowsinger.

Azriel crept off your body and stood at the end of the bed. “As you wish.” He rasped as he shucked his clothing off. With each layer that fell to the floor you wanted to devour the male more and more.

You sat up in interest as Cassian moved away from your side and over to Azriel, lowering himself to his knees. “Gotta make sure you’re ready too.” Cassian said before taking Azriels length into his open mouth. You gasped at the sight of the Spymasters scarred hand clutching onto the other males hair, pulling at his locks as he fucked himself into his mouth. You couldn’t help but find the sight of Cassian on his knees to be natural. Alluring, and natural. With a gasp and a line of saliva, Cassian pulled himself off of Azriel once he deemed him ready. “Go fuck our girl.” He ordered.

And by the Caldron, did Azriel listen.

“Fuck!” You cried out as Azriel thrust relentlessly into you.

“You feel so good.” Azriel breathed.

“So, so good,” you babbled.

“Cas, help her out.” Azriel ordered.

Without removing himself from your breasts, Cassian reached a hand down and circled your bundle of nerves.

“Yes!” You screeched. Your climax came hurtling through you at the hands of your mates and it was unlike anything you had ever experienced before. Azriel reached his end along with you, spilling himself into you with heavy breathes. Cassian ran his hands along both of your bodies with light kisses and whispered words of affection.

“Do you have enough energy to ride Cas?” Azriel asked you with a wicked grin.

“Absolutely.”

Azriel pulled himself free from you with a groan, his spend slipping out after him. Cassian was ready and waiting for you at your side, laying flat on his back. As you prepared to sink down on his length Cassian stopped you with a firm grip around the waist and a light chuckle. “Not my cock, Y/N. I want you to ride my face.” He said as he guided you to sit above him. You knew that if Azriel hadn’t just pulled an orgasm from you then Cassian’s words alone would have.

“Cas,” you gasped as he sat you right where he wanted you.

“Perfect,” Cassian murmured before licking up your core.

The War Lords mouth was absolutely sinful against your already abused core. Azriels shadows wrapped around you, holding you in place for Cassian to devour and Azriel to tease with his mouth and hands. Cassian slurped, sucked, licked and played with every part of you as you sat above him, fucking his face.

“I’m close,” you warned the males. Whether it was minutes or hours after your first orgasm, you couldn’t tell, all you knew was that you had been filled with pleasure for longer than you could contain. “Cas!” You cried. “I’m-close! I, I…” you broke off in a moan as you came over your mates face.

Behind you, Azriel fisted Cassian to completion, working him through his own climax with his hand.

After a few deep breaths you slid off of Cassian and into the sheets beside him, throwing an arm over his naked torso as Azriel stood and made his way to your bathroom. The Spymaster was gone for less than a minute before he returned with a damp cloth and cleaned the two of you up, ridding of it somewhere else in your room before sliding into bed with the two of you.

—-

It was later in the night, or perhaps early morning, that you broke the silence between yourself and your mates. “Tell Rhys you can’t go on any missions for a while.” You said to the males that laid on either side of you.

“Why?” Azriel asked.

“Because,” you admitted, “in the morning I plan on making the two of you breakfast.”

[taste-your-silhouette]

I want to dance on your body

Pairings: Damiano David xfem!reader

Contents: smut 

Summary: You and your bestie hit up a party when you start grooving with Damiano, and the dance floor chemistry carries over to his hotel room. That's where the magic unfolds, and you both go to cloud as he compares you to an angel.

Words: ~2192

A/N: Hi, hello and please, forgive me again if you come across any errors while reading. I recommend you to play Touch Me and just enjoying ✨

You and your best friend are strolling into the party of some badass celeb she knows, she's probably already mentioned the name a million times, but you ain't giving much of a damn, you just wanna hit up a party, grab a few drinks, and bust some moves. Have a blast and enjoy yourself!

As you and your friend make your way through the entrance, you exchange a sly grin while vibrant, trippy lights groove to the beat throughout the crib. Side by side, you advance towards the dance floor, and your friend chimes in:

"Alright, let's have a fucking blast tonight," she says with a grin, and a contagious smile spreads across your face as well.

You were both pumped for this party and ready to let loose and enjoy yourselves to the max.

In a split second, she grabs your hand and pulls you towards the bar, where a bunch of peeps are lining up, ordering their go-to drinks, all geared up to hit the dance floor again. You step up to the bartender and request your ultimate drink, downing it in a single gulp before quickly ordering another shot and doing it all over again.

The drink ignites a fire within you, fueling you with energy and liquid courage to fully embrace the moment, without a care in the world. No worries, just pure enjoyment.

You and your friend head straight to the dance floor, grooving together to the sick beats. But before long, someone swoops in and starts getting their groove on with her, leaving you to your own devices. No biggie though, it doesn't faze you one bit. You keep on dancing as if the music is pumping right through your veins.

Eyes closed, you immerse yourself in the moment, feeling the heat of someone's body swaying alongside yours. Whoever it is, they sense your awareness and since you don't brush them off, they casually rest their hand on your waist, getting even closer in their moves. Your ass is the only thing touching him as you dance with a touch of sensuality right there on the dance floor. The electricity builds up as you grind with this mysterious dancer behind you, sending tingles down your spine.

You both bust some moves together for three consecutive songs, and it's as if you're in perfect harmony. The dance isn't just about showing off or impressing each other; it's about creating something extraordinary between you.

As the beats thump on, you suddenly hear his voice whispering in your ear, "Finally, someone who's up for it." 

It tempts you to ask what he means, but you decide against it. You don't want to risk blurting out something silly and ruining the magical vibe of what just went down. So, you simply let the moment linger, cherishing the mystery and excitement that swirls around you.

You sense the hint of a smile against your cheek, and it elicits a light-hearted chuckle from you. It's best to leave it at that and keep relishing in the night's pleasures.

You turn your gaze towards him, even though the lights make it difficult to see his face clearly. Nevertheless, you can tell that he's undeniably attractive (and damn, he can dance like nobody's business).

It's time to get another drink!

As you reach the bar, you order another drink, but this time you savor it slowly, relishing every drop of that boozy sting as it glides down your throat. The flavors dance on your tongue, creating a delightful sensation.

Before you're about to leave the bar, the stranger appears by your side once more, placing an order for two drinks. Now, with a clearer view of his face, you can't help but smile as your gaze locks onto his handsome features.

He returns the smile and pops the question:

"Care for another drink?"

You nod in agreement, and with that, you both exchange proper introductions. Skipping the dance floor this time, you snag two primo seats at the bar, engaging in a conversation that flows as if you've been pals for ages.

Damiano and you have reached a level where you're familiar with the key aspects of each other's lives. It's not something you typically do, spilling your guts to strangers, but under the influence of alcohol and with the enchantment Damiano has cast upon you, it feels natural to engage in heartfelt conversation.

He suggests, "How about finding a more quiet spot?"

The idea resonates with you, and you nod in agreement, intrigued by the prospect of finding a quieter place where you can continue this magical connection.

You flash him a mischievous smile and take hold of his hand, leading him away from the lively dance floor and the bustling bar. As you pass through the living room, your eyes catch sight of numerous unoccupied couches, and you can't resist the temptation. You abruptly halt, tugging on his hand to bring him to a stop, and in a matter of seconds, both of you find yourselves sprawled out on one of the cozy couches.

Damiano's hands be all up in his waist as you're locking lips in a way that has both of you gasping for breath, but you don't give a damn. You feel Damiano's hands on your thighs, giving them a tight squeeze as you continue kissing you, and you let out a moan, trying to catch your breath and satisfy the intense desire he's been arousing in you since you started dancing together.

"Allright?" he asks you.

You nod eagerly, craving his touch on every inch of your body, as his hand traces a path from your thigh to your clit.

"Holy crap," you moan, overcome with pleasure.

He slid your underwear aside, skillfully rubbing your clit at a tantalizingly slow pace. The way he teased you was driving you wild. You rested your head on his shoulder, attempting to conceal your flushed face while muffling your moans as best you could.

"Oh fuck," you whispered, the pleasure intensifying as he increased his pace, making it even more challenging to stifle your cries.

"It's okay, let go. Everyone's too drunk to notice us," he playfully remarked, a smirk playing on his lips.

His words gave you the permission you needed, and you couldn't help but release your moans. They weren't overly loud, but they would definitely catch the attention of anyone who wasn't lost in their own drunken haze.

"Good girl," he murmured into your ear, his words sending shivers down your spine.

The fire inside you burned hotter and hotter, your moans growing louder with each passing moment. All sense of shame vanished, replaced only by the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body.

"I'm close!" you moaned, your voice filled with desperate need. And just as you uttered those words, the climax washed over you, leaving you breathless and trembling.

"That was... amazing," you whispered, still catching your breath from the intensity of the experience.

He hinted at taking the rendezvous to his hotel for more privacy, and you could sense the anticipation building. He stood up, extending his hand towards you, and you eagerly took it, rising to your feet. Adjusting your dress, you both made your way out of the bustling party.

Upon arriving at his hotel room, he opened the door slowly, pulling you inside. As you stepped into the room, your eyes took in the sight of scattered papers on the king-size bed. Being a singer in a band, it was no surprise that he had been busy writing songs, the creative process evident in the disarray around you.

"Will you write a song about tonight?" you asked, a hint of anticipation in your voice. As the door closed and clicked, Damiano wasted no time. He swiftly unbuttoned his white shirt, discarding it onto the dresser.

"Probably," he replied, his gaze fixed on you as he moved closer. With a deft hand, he skillfully removed your dress, casting it aside without a second thought. Now, standing before him in nothing but your underwear, you felt a surge of confidence.

His eyes tracing over your body, and he couldn't help but confess:

"You look... amazing." His voice dripped with admiration and desire, fueling the intensity of the moment.

He placed his hands firmly on your hips, just as he had done earlier, and leaned in, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. You reciprocated, savoring the taste of his lips, and instinctively placed your hands on his face, deepening the connection between you.

Feeling the intensity between you both, he reached down and firmly gripped one of your legs, lifting it up and resting it on his hip. The sensation heightened, and you could feel him more intimately. With a surge of desire, he broke the kiss, his eyes smoldering with a mixture of lust and admiration and in a bold move, he swiftly switched his hold to your other thigh, lifting you effortlessly and pressing you against the wall. The rush of being carried and pinned against the solid surface added an exhilarating edge to the moment, intensifying the passion and desire that consumed you both.

You locked eyes with each other, the intensity building with each passing moment, until he couldn't resist any longer and leaned in to capture your lips in another passionate kiss. The room seemed to ignite with fervor as the kiss deepened, fueled by an overwhelming desire.

Both of you were breathless, your bodies craving more. With a sense of urgency, Damiano swept you off your feet and carried you to the edge of the bed, gently placing you there. He swiftly cleared the clutter of papers that had occupied the bed, letting them cascade to the floor, clearing the space for your intimate encounter.

As he turned his attention back to you, his eyes filled with admiration and desire. He leaned in closer, his voice a soft whisper against your skin:

"You're so beautiful, you look like an angel." His hand caressed your face tenderly, tracing the contours with gentle affection.

You smirked mischievously, pulling him closer to you, your desire evident in your eyes. 

"I could say the same for you, but how about we go to heaven together?" You whispered seductively, your lips grazing his neck on her before playfully biting down.

In an instant, it seemed like something ignited within Damiano. He firmly gripped your neck, exerting a delicious control, and guided you down onto the bed. His lips trailed along your neck, seeking out your sweet spot, and when he found it, he indulged in it wildly. Leaving a trail of hickeys and bites in his wake for him, he marked you as his own for him. Your fingers tangled in his hair, gripping it tightly as you let out soft moans of pleasure.

The intensity grew as Damiano skillfully removed your panties, unveiling your desires. The air crackled with anticipation as your bodies yearned for the connection that awaited them.

"Are you wet for me, huh?" He sensually bites his lip while locking eyes with you.

He moans in delight as he gently inserts his cock into your pussy, igniting waves of pleasure.

Bestowing upon you the most sublime ecstasy.

He moves his hips with deliberate grace, thrusting in and out, synchronizing your desires.

"Oh, fuck!" you passionately moan, your voice filled with pure bliss.

Damiano smirks, his confidence growing, and intensifies his rhythm, heightening your desire.

As you lose yourself in the throes of passion, your hand instinctively covers your mouth, but Damiano forcefully removes it, yearning to hear your euphoric symphony.

"No, I wanna hear you when you go to heaven, y/n," he whispers with fervor.

You affirm with a nod, surrendering to the divine pleasure that awaits you.

You moan Damiano's name as he intensifies the rhythm of his thrusts, causing your head to fall back onto his plush pillows.

"Oh, Damiano, I'm so close!" 

"Come, y/n, cum to me," he asserts, his voice laced with longing.

You struggle to hold back, determined to hear him plead, but his relentless stimulation of your spot makes it nearly impossible. The pleasure is simply too overwhelming.

"Come, y/n," Damiano groans, his voice filled with urgency.

You tighten your grip around him and succumb to the waves of ecstasy he elicits. As you reach the pinnacle of pleasure with him, he remains motionless, deeply embedded within you, his body collapsing onto yours, a resounding groan of your name escaping his lips.

The intensity of the moment consumes you, as he pours every ounce of himself into you, leaving you both utterly spent and satisfied.

You both were breathless and drenched in perspiration, your legs entwined with his.

"I wanna go to heaven with you again" Damiano whispers, his face inches away from yours.

You smile, gazing into their eyes, and you can see the unmistakable lust and desire reflected in him. You hope that he can also perceive the depth of your yearning and how much you desire the very same thing he does.

[dddomenstarstwst1]

hi! can i request a fic with jade from twst and a soft dom reader who just treats him like a prince? :) sensual and slow, quickly turning into fast and rough. feel free to ignore this if you dont want to do it!

Hii, of course!! Jade honestly deserves so much love!

Prince (ft.jade)

Warnings: sub!Jade, soft!dom!reader, gn!reader, anal penetration, no explicit genital description, but a word cock is used for reader, handjob, praise kink

a/n: characters are depicted as 18+ y/o

As your hands slide up his pale skin, you take in every sigh, every gasp and moan of pleasure that leaves his mouth. His hair scattered on the pillow, trembling hands find purchase on your shoulders.

"So beautiful," You leave a kiss on his hip, catching his gaze with yours. He shakes his head, "No? You don't think so, Jade? Seems, I'm not convincing you enough. Whatever do I do?"

Your fingers trace shapes on his delicate skin, causing a knot of arousal in Jade's stomach to almost burst. He still can't get used to how keen you are on treating him like a prince.

"Let me prepare you first, and then I'll show you just how perfect you are and how much I love you, dear," but before you can reach for lube, Jade grabs your wrist, eyes never meeting yours.

Hm? Oh.

"My, my! Don't tell me you already did that yourself?" Jade throws you an unimpressed look, before flashing a toothy grin your way. Damn, this eel. You mirror his smile, before kissing your way up his body, stopping at his lips.

"Tell me, if you want to stop. Anytime, and I'll stop, no questions asked," Jade steals a kiss from you, giving you a gentle smile. Not the one he uses in public, tainted with ulterior motives and a sadistic glint of his eyes. No, this one's genuine, filled with love and affection.

"I know you will. I trust you," You share one more kiss, bodies pressed to each other. Jade sneaks his hand between you, wrapping it around your dicks, "Hurry, I need you."

"Tsk, aren't you impatient tonight?" You sit back, grabbing a bottle of lube and pouring the liquid over your cock. You align yourself with his entrance, catching his eyes in a silent question. He nods, and you slide your dick inside, still taking time for him to adjust.

When Jade gives a green light, you start moving with a slow and steady pace. A sigh leaves eel's lips, but you're not sure if it's a sigh of relief or frustration, given how Jade attempts to hide his face in a pillow. You continue your snail pace, knowing full well it's not satisfying enough.

"[Name], please! It's not enough, move faster," You fight a smirk, as Jade moves his hips, fucking himself on your cock. As much as you want to tease him, you decide to take mercy.

Hooking one of his legs on your shoulder, you lean close to his body, plunging yourself in and out of him. Sudden change steals Jade's breath away, as his insides clench around you. Nails dig in your flesh, drawing lines of red.

Jade throws his head back, uncontrollable mess of mess and begs leaving his open mouth freely. It's almost comical, seeing Jade's composed and calm demeanor crumble the moment your dick is inside him. It makes you wonder what would make him lose his composure in public, but you'll your guesses for another day.

"[Name]! Gh– C-Cum!"

"You wanna cum? It's okay, dear, you can cum anytime," It's enough for Jade to bring his hand to his aching dick, pumping his fist on it. It doesn't take much longer for him to finish, stripes of semen spilling on his hand and stomach.

"Good job, Jade," you praise him through his orgasm, keeping him grounded the whole time. Once he's calmed down, you clean him with a wet cloth and making him drink water.

It's tiring to keep up the mysterious facade all day, but a loving night of you treating him like prince after is certainly worth Jade's pretends.

[munson-blurbs]

@corrodedcoffinfest Day 9: The Hideout

Word Count: 715/Rating: T/Pairing: none/CW: hurt/some comfort, canon compliant, drinking, grief, mention of Eddie's death/Tags: Wayne Munson, Eddie Munson, Jeff, Grant, Gareth, The Hideout

Divider credit to @silkholland

“Can I get something for ya, Mr. Munson?”

Wayne didn’t even notice the bartender approach him and lean his elbows on the counter. He shook his head before remembering that if he didn’t order something, they’d probably give him the boot. 

“Whatever’s on tap.”

The bartender nodded and left to fill a cloudy glass with a beer that was bound to be half-foam. 

Wayne took in his surroundings while he waited. The Hideout looked exactly how he remembered it, despite the promised renovations after the earthquake hit. The countertop was still sticky with a mysterious residue, the air still smelled like old frying oil, and the sound emanating from the speakers was more garbled crackling than music. 

There was an obvious difference; acknowledging it made Wayne sick to his stomach. It was a reality he had to face every moment of every day.

His eyes instinctively landed on the makeshift stage buried in the corner of the bar. Every Tuesday night, just like tonight, his nephew and his bandmates would ascend the single step and put on a show for the drunkards barely hanging onto consciousness. Despite their less-than-enthused audience, Corroded Coffin performed like it was a sold-out world tour.

Wayne couldn’t make it to every show, but he’d take a night off every few months and make sure to swing by and catch the boys in action. The very first time he saw Corroded Coffin play at The Hideout, he was astounded by the sheer happiness on Eddie’s face. In Wayne’s opinion, it was even more incredible than the sight of his ringed fingers flying over the frets. That smile never faltered, even if the crowd jeered.

The bartender slid the glass in front of Wayne, meeting his gaze. “We miss him around here,” he says quietly. “He was a good kid.”

Tears misted over Wayne’s eyes, and he blinked them away before any could trickle down his stubble-coated cheeks. “No, he wasn’t. He was a pain in your ass.” He huffed out as much of a laugh as he could muster.

“Yeah, but he was a pain in my ass with a good heart.”

Wayne nodded. He sipped his beer silently, letting the liquid fizz out on his tongue before swallowing. He wasn’t sure why he’d stopped by; it felt like a special sort of torture. Everything about The Hideout reminded him of Eddie. Eddie, who should have been there tonight, warming up and tuning the guitar he cherished like it was his child. Getting ready to play ear-splitting music for the residents of a town who never appreciated him.

“Mr. Munson?”

Wayne looked up, expecting to see the bartender, but the voice came from someone beside him. Jeff was giving him a small smile, concern evident in his eyes. Gareth and Grant stood behind Jeff and wore equally worried expressions.

“Boys.” Wayne gave a quick bob of his head. “You playing tonight?”

Gareth shook his head, his curls bouncing. “Nah. We haven’t played since…” He trailed off, but Wayne could fill in the blanks.

Since the earthquake.

Since the bar reopened.

Since Eddie died.

“We still come here every Tuesday and have a drink in his honor,” Grant said. “It’s…weird without him, but it feels like what he would want us to do. Stick together and all that.”

“Yeah.” It was all Wayne managed. 

Jeff bit the inside of his cheek. He glances at the two other young men, who nod in the silent agreement that only comes from long-standing friendship. “Can we sit with you?”

“Oh.” Wayne blinked in surprise. “You sure you wanna hang out with a sad-sack old man like me?”

In response, the boys pulled their stools closer.

“Eddie…” Gareth started, “Eddie loved when you came to our shows. It meant a lot to him, especially because we don’t exactly play music you like.”

Wayne chuckled. “Yeah, well, I’m more of a Johnny Cash kinda guy.” He took a large gulp of his beer. “But I wish I could hear Ed play one more time.”

“Us, too.” Grant sucked his teeth. “Do you…do you wanna talk about him?”

Wayne’s answer felt like an exhale, a release of the pain and anguish he’d been keeping inside since the Henderson boy delivered the news of Eddie’s fate.

“Yeah. I do.”

--

[himbofan4444]

He, I am a big fan and I was wondering if you could help me out. I have been trying to bulk up lately. And sure, I have gained a few kilos over the last few months, but I want it to go faster! I ordered this new Mass Gainer. Do you think it will help me?

You just got back from the gym and look at your phone to see a mysterious text from an unknown number: “Oh you’ve been trying to bulk up? 💪 I feel you, bro. So what you’re gonna wanna do is go to this shop downtown on 4th Street. There’s this one dude who’ll be selling something called ‘Big Boy Juice’. 🤩 It’ll do the trick. It worked for me. Good luck, stranger 😉”. You look at the text and roll your eyes, the sensible part of yourself thinking this is a spam number.

The next day after work, you see a sign reading “4th Strt”. An overwhelming sense of curiosity grows in you and you turn into the road. The “street” is closer to an alleyway. It’s sandwiched between to tall building and is only one-way. The street also has a strange layer of fog coating it, making it nearly impossible to see anything. After a minute or two of driving, a faint light becomes visible ahead of you.

The fog ahead of you clears to reveal a vendor stand with fairy lights strung about it. A large, hairy, Indian man stands at the stand, a jolly smile on his handsome face. You open your car door, careful to not scratch it against the side of the building. When you get to the man, he enters what’s likely a common dialogue for him, “Well hello there fine fellow! How can I help ya?” His joyous presence almost offsets the uneasy feeling in your stomach.

“Do you have… ‘Big Boy Juice’?” you say, grimacing at the childish title.

“Why of course we do, bud! Got some right here!” the man reaches under the counter and pulls out an orange liquid. “This’s what you’re lookin’ for. Here,” he says as he hands you the oddly warm drink. You ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach and down the strange liquid.

Your stomach instantly begins churning and aching. You double over and fall to your knees as your entire body aches and your muscles contract and tense up. Your muscles quickly begin pumping up, filling with raw muscle. Your clothes tear off your inflated body. You open your eyes to see you have grown to a massive size. Your skin looks tanner and feels thicker. It’s almost leathery. Your crotch feels lighter. You look down past your huge pecs to see a minuscule bulge in your tight underwear.

“What the hell did you do to me?!” you roar at the man in your now deeper voice.

“I just gave you the potion you wanted,” he says with a laugh. The man and his vendor stand vanish before your eyes, leaving you alone in the alleyway in your now incredibly muscular body.

[millieslibrary]

lucky to love you

pairing(s): dallas winston x fem!reader:

summary: a damaged delinquent meets an adventurous, fiery young woman at a bar and they fall in love... what happens next?

wc: 7.3k

warning(s): underage drinking, smoking, gambling, fluff, and a pinch of angst

a/n: this is the first fanfic i've ever wrote. i really hope you like it.

It was a warm June night in the city of Tulsa. Cars and glowing business signs illuminated the streets and a soft breeze kept the heat from sweltering. The city was bustling, as families and people of all ages walked up and down the sidewalks, enjoying their Friday evening.

You were sitting at a sticky bar in a hot and heavy room of a place called ‘Buck’s’. A man slid you a glass with an amber liquid. You tipped your head back and let the burning taste of whiskey invade your mouth and spread through your body. This wasn’t your first drink of the night and surely wouldn’t be your last. You smiled at the man behind the counter before getting up from your seat at the bar and sliding past dozens of sweaty bodies to the billiard room.

There, two men stood at the pool table while a few lined the walls to spectate. Immediately, your eyes landed on the man at the far side of the table; 6 feet with gorgeous brown eyes and beautiful porcelain skin. He was a leather-wrapped bad decision.

His eyes came up from studying the green table and landed onto you. You watched him do a double take before his eyes took in your form, looking you up and down. His tongue prodded at the inside of his cheek. 

“You gonna come in or you just gonna keep blocking the door?”

You smiled at him before taking a step inside.

“I wanna play," you stated plainly.

"Little lady thinks she can play pool," he uttered, half a question and half a statement. The others in the room laughed lightly at that.

"I reckon I can win too," you jabbed back.

He seemed surprised by your conviction. You watched as he smiled to himself. And what a smile it was. You felt your face heat up and butterflies in your stomach at the sight.

"Alright. I'll give you a go once I beat this guy," he said, confidently.

The rest of the game was quick. Your leather-jacket-wearing mystery man was a skilled player, experience exuding from every shot he took. However, even as you watched him take a couple dollars from the palm of his opponent, you felt confident.

You grabbed a stick off the wall and approached the table.

"I hope you're a betting woman," he said.

"Of course," you replied back easily.

"Tell you what," he started, "I'll bet you one dollar that I can beat you in fifteen shots or less."

"Deal," you smirked as you extended your hand to shake.

When he took it, you suddenly became aware of the difference in your sizes. His hand completely enveloped your own.

His fingers were calloused and rough. His knuckles were bruised; you resisted the urge to run your thumb over them. He was warm. You were almost sad to pull away. 

"Does the little lady have a name?" he asked as you rounded the table.

"If you do," you replied as you took your break shot, a striped ball falling into the far left hole.

He smiled again and you felt yourself go slightly weak in the knees.

"I'm Dally. Dally Winston."

You had heard that name before. Unfortunately, word traveled fast in the city of Tulsa; and the name ‘Dally Winston’ was often attached to stories of a no-good, low-down delinquent. But something in you told you not to run away. Instead, you looked up and into his eyes. 

"Y/N Y/L/N."

Dallas didn't beat you in fifteen shots or less. He didn't beat you at all. He rolled his eyes in irritation while handing you a dollar about fifteen minutes after the game's beginning.

"Let me buy you a beer," you offered to which he eagerly accepted.

Dally led you to the bar with his hand on the small of your back, careful not to lose you in the crowd. You bit your lip at the contact.

After using your earnings to pay for your drinks, Dally led you outside. You closed your eyes and breathed in the fresh air. He grabbed a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and gently placed one between his lips. He held the pack out to you and you copied his actions. He scoffed with a smile and shook his head lightly.

"What?" you asked.

"You're one interesting broad," he said, lighting his cigarette.

"What do you mean by that?" you replied inquisitively, lighting your own.

"You smoke, you drink, you play pool"

"I’m sure I’m not the only girl to do those things, Dally."

"And you're feisty. I like that."

You felt yourself smile at his words. You turned to look at him only to see that he was already looking at you. You wished you could take a picture of his face. Perfectly illuminated by Buck’s neon sign and the moonlight, Dally’s hair laid gently over his forehead, his lips parted, gently grasping his cigarette between his teeth. He was dangerously good-looking. You took another long drag off your cigarette.

“I should probably be on my way home,” you said, looking at the ground.

“How far away do you live?” he questioned

“It's maybe a fifteen-minute walk,” you responded. 

“Let me walk you home, you shouldn’t be walking by yourself at this time of night.”

“Aw, does somebody care about me?” you teased, already making your way down the steps of Buck’s porch.

“Don’t go getting a big head about it,” he said, rolling his eyes.

You and Dally made conversation the whole walk home. He told you about New York, living at Buck’s, and the ragtag little friend group he made since living in Tulsa. You told him about your family and friends and all your interests and hobbies. You were having so much fun talking with him that you were a little disappointed to see that you made it to your house. It was looking upon your house that suddenly filled you with worry. You didn’t want this to be the last time you saw Dallas Winston. You quickly came up with a solution.

“Wait here,” you ordered.

You unlocked the door and jogged down the hall to your room. You turned on the light before walking over to your desk and ripping the corner off an unimportant piece of paper, writing your phone number. Then, you reached into your pocket for your lipstick. You reapplied the color and kissed the tiny paper. After looking down to admire your handiwork, you ran back outside to find Dally where you left him. 

“Call me,” you said, placing the note in the palm of his hand. When you went back inside, you watched from the windows as he looked down at the tiny paper and smiled.

That night, you dreamed about Dally. 

✩⋆｡‧₊˚⭑˚₊‧｡⋆✩

The next day, Dallas found himself at the Curtis house. He laid on the couch, long limbs splayed across the cushions. He tried to ignore the sound of Mickey playing through the TV speaker as he took a swig of his fifth beer.

“Take it easy Dal,” Soda commented as he moved to grab a deck of cards that sat on the coffee table.

Dally ignored him, hand fiddling with the piece of paper in his leather jacket pocket.​​ Truthfully, Dallas was trying to drink away his nervousness; he was scared to call you. What if you were just drunk and last night was just a mistake? What if you didn’t want to hear from him? 

Suddenly, Dally sat up. His eyes found Johnny, who sat on the ground with his back against the couch. Dally grabbed Johnny’s shoulder lightly and nodded toward the door. Johnny seemed to understand as the two stood up and walked toward the front door. 

“You two leavin’?” Two-Bit questioned, remnants of chocolate cake covering his face. 

“Nah man, just going for a smoke. I don’t wanna hear Darry complainin’ ‘bout me doin’ it in the house no more,'' explained Dally.

Two-Bit nodded as the boys exited. Dally immediately reached for his cigarettes, handing one to Johnny. Dally leaned up against the fence as he lit his cancer stick.

“What’s goin’ on Dal?” Johnny asked, almost concerned.

“I- uh- I met this girl last night, man,” Dally confessed.

“Yeah? What about her?”

“I like her. She’s real pretty. With a big mouth on ‘er. She beat me at pool,” Dallas smiled as he remembered the events of the previous night.

“You get some action or somethin’?” Johnny inquired, studying his friend’s face.

“Nah man, we just talked. She beat me at pool ‘nd then I walked her home. She told me to call her but I haven’t.”

“How come?”

Dally took a long drag from his cigarette.

“‘Cause- ‘Cause what if she don’t wanna hear from me, man?” 

Dallas Winston doesn’t get nervous. Dallas Winston doesn’t get scared. Dallas Winston is never vulnerable. But for you, it seems, Dallas Winston cares. Johnny smiles at the thought.

“I’ve never seen you like this Dal,” Johnny can’t help but tease.

“I ain’t happy ‘bout it neither so shut yer trap,” Dally spat, glaring at Johnny.

Johnny laughed a little before taking a drag.

“Just call her. Don’t be a wuss.”

✩⋆｡‧₊˚⭑˚₊‧｡⋆✩

You had been on edge all day. You eagerly awaited a call from Dally but the phone had yet to ring. Once it had reached 3pm, you were beginning to feel that he was never going to call. You were beginning to feel that the night you spent together meant nothing to him. Your mind stirred with feelings of doubt.

Then, finally, the phone rang.

You scrambled to your feet, taking a deep breath before reaching for the phone. Slowly, you pulled the phone to your ear.

“Hey dollface.”

“Dally?” you cringed at the excitement in your voice.

Dallas laughed and you tucked your bottom lip between your teeth to keep from squealing.

“You miss me?” he asked, cockily.

“What do you want, Winston?” you joked.

“Ouch. You hurt me, doll. Listen, do you- uh- do you wanna catch a movie tonight?”

“Sure! What movie?”

“Don’t know. I figure we’ll sneak in and find one of them cheesy ones that chicks like.”

“Ever the gentlemen, aren’t you?” you replied with a roll of your eyes, your smile being heard through the phone, “pick me up at 7.”

“Whatever you say, doll.”

✩⋆｡‧₊˚⭑˚₊‧｡⋆✩

Dallas waited for time to pass, absentmindedly rolling his St. Christopher between his fingers. He thought of you as he let a puff of smoke escape from his lips. Your smile, your lips, the way your eyes shone when you spoke or just listened to him talk. Your very being plagued Dally’s thoughts. You had an undeniable effect on him. 

As Dally checked himself in the mirror and ‘fixed’ his hair for the nth time that evening, he was disgusted with himself. He had truly never felt so out of control, like a lovestruck schoolboy. Looking in the mirror once again, he scoffed.

It wasn’t you that Dally was afraid of. It was how he felt about you that scared him. For the first time, in a long time, he cared about somebody. Dallas wanted to be close to you. He wanted to understand you. He wanted to be understood by you. He already felt understood by you. Most people didn’t make Dally feel understood. But you did. And that was special.

✩⋆｡‧₊˚⭑˚₊‧｡⋆✩

Hours later, Dallas arrived at your doorstep. He was excited to see you again. At least with you at his side, his mind could no longer wander and his heart would no longer yearn. When you opened the door to meet him, Dally felt the air knocked out of his lungs. Turns out, you were this beautiful all the time, and your first meeting hadn’t been a happy accident. Dally let out a low whistle as he leaned his forearm against the door frame.

“See something you like?” you questioned, teasing.

“You know I do,” Dally responded with a smirk.

You breezed right past him with a giggle and Dally swore his heart was going to beat right out of his chest.

The walk to the Nightly Double was similar to your walk home the previous night, filled with laughter and conversation. There was much to know about Dallas Winston. One of the many things you learned about him was that he was a very good listener. At least when he was with you, he would listen intently when you told a story or voiced your thoughts.

Once you arrived at the edge of the drive-in, Dally slid under the fence with ease, popping up on the other side. You followed after him, Dallas offering you his hand to help you stand up. You took it.

“You look like you’ve done that before,” Dally commented.

“That’s because I have,” you said, dusting yourself off.

Dally’s tongue prodded at the inside of his cheek, smiling. You waited for him to let go of your hand but he didn’t; instead, he led you past the dozens of parked cars to the viewing seats. He let go of your hand to swing himself over the railing, taking a seat. You rolled your eyes as you ducked under the railing, sitting down beside him. He gently laid his arm over your shoulders and you smiled. You reached for the pack of cigarettes in your pocket, offering him one. He took it from between your fingers and inspected it, placing it between his lips. You lit his and then your own. Dally took a puff.

“What are these?” he asked.

“They’re cloves,” you responded.

“They’re sweet,” he announced, eyes widening at the taste.

You nodded, making a mental note to find more things Dally hasn’t tried as you found his curiosity utterly adorable.

Your eyes fixed on the large screen ahead of you, taking another drag.

Dallas couldn’t tell you what movie you were seeing. He couldn’t even tell you what it was about. His eyes were on you the whole time. He liked the way your hair shaped your face, the way your eyebrows scrunched when you were worried or confused, and the way you nibbled on your bottom lip. The more time Dally spent with you, the more things he found to like about you. He tried to push away the thought.

“You wanna Coke?” He asked, standing up from his seat.

“Sure,” you replied, finally meeting his eyes.

With that, Dally made his way to the snack booth.

When he returned, he handed you your Coke and lit another cigarette before taking his seat again. You took a sip of your Coke and enjoyed the sweet taste. You looked at Dally.

Looking into the eyes of Dallas Winston was quickly becoming one of your favorite pastimes. His eyes seemed to tell a thousand stories. Stories of fun and troublemaking; and pain and sorrow. His eyes were ones that belonged to a person who grew up far too fast and knew the cruelty of the world all too well. Still, deep within them, you could see a childlike wonder and mischief. His eyes were cold. But looking into yours, they were soft.

You broke eye contact in favor of leaning your head on his shoulder. You couldn’t see his face from your position. He smiled.

✩⋆｡‧₊˚⭑˚₊‧｡⋆✩

From that day on, you and Dally were practically inseparable. The two of you frequented the Dingo and the Nightly Double. Days he used to spend with Johnny and at the Curtis house were spent playing cards or poker with you at your house or in his single room above Buck’s bar. Nights he used to spend ‘hunting action’ and going to Buck’s parties alone were spent drinking and playing pool with you. You were Dally’s girl and everybody knew it; albeit nothing much had happened between the two of you. Stolen glances, prolonged eye contact, and his hands on your waist were as far as you had gone with one another. With you, Dallas didn’t feel the need to ask for more. Your presence and good conversation were enough. But everything changed on one particular night.

You laid awake, humming to the sweet melody coming from your record player with a cigarette in hand when you heard a faint tapping on your window. You smiled, putting out your cigarette as you got up from your position in bed. You already knew who it was; there was only one person who would be knocking on your window, especially at this time of night. When you pushed your window open, you were met with, in your opinion, one of the worst sights one could see. Dallas Winston, bloody and bruised, looking up at you with pleading eyes.

“Jesus Christ, Dal! What the hell happened?”

You quickly turned off your record player. 

“Rumble,” Dallas replied simply, groaning as he pulled himself through your window.

You shook your head lightly, gazing at him with sad eyes as he sat on the edge of your bed.

“Let me clean you up. I’ll be right back,” you said, sparing him one final glance before you left the room to gather supplies.

When you returned, with a few washcloths and a tub of mildly soapy water in hand, Dallas was looking at the floor. After placing your materials on the ground next to him, you gently grabbed his face, forcing him to look at you.

“Did you win?” you asked lightly.

“I always do,” Dally responded, the ghost of a smile on his face.

You nodded, removing your hands from him and dipping a washcloth into the soapy water. Carefully, you brought the washcloth to his face, dabbing at a wound just above his eyebrow. Dally flinched a little at this which caused you to look at him sorrily. You soaked the washcloth again and started on another wound on his cheekbone. You repeated these ministrations until his face was clean of blood.

“Do you have any other open wounds?” you inquired.

“Nah, just bruises,” he answered.

“Are you in pain?”

“I’ll be alright.”

His failure to acknowledge your question did not go unnoticed by you. You placed a hand back on his face, thumb caressing his cheek.

“You make quite the nurse, doll.”

You shook your head, eyes closed.

“I hate seeing you like this Dal.”

“Hey,” he placed his hand over your own, “I’m okay.”

You nodded, looking into his eyes. You let your gaze fall to his lips. Then, you kissed him.

Dally kissed back almost immediately, pressing months of unsaid feelings to your lips with his own. He tasted like tobacco and cheap beer. 

The kiss quickly turned messy; tongues sliding against each other as you straddled him on the edge of your bed. His large hands gripped your thighs and you bit lightly on his bottom lip. Your hand was still on the side of his face, the other pulling at the hair on the back of his head, causing him to moan. When you finally pulled back for air, Dally placed his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent.

“Will you stay?” you asked, so quietly you weren’t sure if he heard you.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll stay.”

You crawled into bed, Dally removed his shoes and jacket, following after you. After pulling the covers up, you reached for his hand. You ran your thumb over his bruised knuckles, just like you had dreamed of doing the night you first met. You placed a kiss on each of them, smiling to yourself as you did so.

That night, as you laid comfortably on Dally’s chest, he became sure that he loved you. He decided, that night, that he would do anything for you. He would do anything to protect you.

✩⋆｡‧₊˚⭑˚₊‧｡⋆✩

In the following weeks, your relationship with Dally became more romantic. You often spent the night in Dally’s apartment and he often came knocking on your window at ungodly hours of the night. It became difficult to sleep without you, but he’d never tell you that. You realized that he very rarely wasn’t touching you in some way or another. His arm found home over your shoulders or around your waist. He frequently pulled you into his lap and placed his head in the crook of your neck. 

After months of knowing you, though, Dally never introduced you to his friends. Dally hadn’t realized you had never met the gang until he arrived at the Curtis house after not having been there in nearly a month.

“Where you been Dal? I feel like I never see you no more,” Johnny commented.

“I’m sorry kid, I’ve been busy with Y/N,” Dally replied, sitting next to Johnny on the couch.

“Who’s Y/N?” Ponyboy questioned from his spot on the floor.

“She’s- uh- She’s my girl,” Dally responded.

“How come we never met her then?” Two-Bit inquired, joining the boys in the living room, beer in hand.

“Never met who?” Sodapop asked, following Two-Bit to the living room, Steve in tow.

“Dally’s girlfriend,” answered Ponyboy.

“If she’s anything like Sylvia, I don’t wanna meet her,” Steve announced, getting a good laugh out of Two-Bit.

“Shut yer trap, will ya? She’s nothing like that,” Dally spat, placing a cigarette between his lips.

“What’s she like then?” Pony interrogated.

The boys looked to Dallas, eagerly awaiting his response. Dally lit his cancer stick.

“She’s- I don’t know man. She’s different. She sneaks into movies and she beats me at everything: cards, poker, pool. She’s a damn good pool player. She could drink two six-packs, she’ll still beat me, man. She’s smart. And she’s pretty. Real pretty,” Dally smiled. “She's nothing like Sylvia, man.”

A hush fell over the room.

“Sounds like somebody’s in love!” Soda said, breaking the silence.

That single comment set the room ablaze; hooting and hollering, and endless wolf calls and whistles filled the house.

“Shut up man!” Dally shouted; though, he was never able to fully wipe the smile from his face.

“When ya gonna let us meet her, Dal?” asked Johnny

“Yeah, you should bring her by,” Soda decided.

Dally thought for a moment before grabbing the phone.

✩⋆｡‧₊˚⭑˚₊‧｡⋆✩

When you arrived at the Curtis house an hour later, you were overcome with nerves. You knew Dally’s gang was something of a family to him and you wanted to make a good first impression. You lit a cigarette, licking your lips to taste the sweet residue left behind by the cloves. You made your way up the steps, knocking on the door. 

When it opened, you were met with a young boy. He had longer, dark hair slicked back with grease; and kind, light brown eyes. The two of you exchanged a smile.

“Come in,” he said, stepping to the side.

You entered and were immediately met with a low whistle from a man in a Mickey Mouse shirt, causing you to smile and roll your eyes. You took a puff from your cigarette while surveying the room. You could definitely tell the space was inhabited by three boys; still, it was homey and happy.

“Y/N?”

You looked up to see a familiar face.

“Sodapop?”

Soda quickly crossed the room to wrap his arms around you and you giggled, returning his hug.

“How’ve you been? I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever!” Soda exclaimed.

“I’ve been good, really good. Are you still working at the DX?”

Unbeknownst to you, Dally stood in the corner of the room, watching your reunion with the second-oldest Curtis boy. He clicked his tongue and took a swig of his beer. Something about watching Soda embrace you like that didn’t sit right with him but he couldn’t figure out why. Dallas trusted you. So why did seeing you giggle at something Soda said have him clenching his fist? 

Dally sauntered over to you, throwing his arm over your shoulders.

“Hey dollface,” Dally said, “you- uh- you two know each other?”

“Yeah! I used to pop in at the DX all the time for snacks and stuff. Soda and I became familiar,” you replied.

“Uh-huh,” Dally responded shortly, moving to sit on the couch next to the Mickey-Mouse-clad man.

You immediately felt something was wrong with Dallas but you couldn’t pinpoint what it was. You tried to shake off the thought, turning back to Soda.

“So who is everybody?” you asked

“This here is Steve,” Soda introduced, as a man with greased hair and crooked teeth approached you from the dining table, holding his hand out for you to shake.

“Right, I remember you,” you said, taking his hand.

“That there is Two-Bit,” Soda continued, pointing to the man in the Mickey Mouse shirt. You gave Two-Bit a small wave. “Then, there’s Johnnycake,” Soda gestured to a boy sitting on the floor in a jean jacket. “And my kid brother, Ponyboy,” finally identifying the young man who opened the door for you.

“No way! This is your brother?” you moved to sit between Johnny and Ponyboy on the floor.

“Yup! I have an older brother, Darry, but he’s not home right now,” Soda answered.

You nodded, putting out your cigarette.

“You wanna beer?” Soda offered.

“That would be nice, thank you,” you replied. You turned your attention to Ponyboy, “Soda’s told me a lot about you. He says you’re into books and movies and stuff.”

“Yeah,” responded Ponyboy, sheepishly.

“I like movies too,” you said, smiling.

“Really?” Ponyboy inquired, excitement evident in his tone.

You hummed in agreement, taking a beverage from Soda’s hand with a small ‘thank you’.

“What about you?” you asked, turning to Johnny.

You noticed Johnny’s face was littered with scars and bruises. When he finally met your eyes, you saw years of pain and suffering in the chocolate orbs staring back at you. His eyes almost felt… recognizable. You realized that you saw a bit of Dally in Johnny’s eyes. Both had eyes that belonged to people who knew the cruelty of the world all too well. Your heart immediately ached for him, this young boy who’d been beaten down by the world’s brutality. It wasn���t pity that you felt for him, it was sympathy.

Johnny didn’t answer your question, only shrugging. You took a sip of your beer and reached for your cigarettes. You handed one to Johnny, lighting his and then your own.

“It’s sweet,” Johnny announced, eyes widening at the taste.

You smiled at the familiar reaction.

“They’re clove cigarettes,” you said, “they’re these little flowers that they roll in with the tobacco. It makes ‘em smell and taste good.”

Johnny nodded along as you spoke, smiling. He liked the sound of your voice; it was soft and soothing. 

Dally watched you talk to Johnny out of the corner of his eye. The only two people Dallas ever loved; he was glad that you guys seemed to be getting along. 

“You boys ever played poker?” you questioned. Johnny and Ponyboy shook their heads. “Go get a deck of cards. I’ll teach you.”

Ponyboy stood up to find a deck of cards and you got up to sit on Dally’s lap. You frowned as Dallas refused to meet your eyes. Eventually, you placed your hands on his face, forcing him to look at you.

“What’s wrong?” you all but demanded.

Dally didn’t respond to your question, instead, he leaned up and pressed his lips to yours. Two-Bit howled at the action, causing Dallas to hit him upside the head with his lips still on yours.

“Gross,” said Ponyboy, having returned with the cards.

You smiled into the kiss before parting, Dally’s lips chasing your own.

“Alright, let’s play,” you announced, walking over to the dining table.

“You mind if we join in?” Soda asked, Steve at his side.

“Not at all,” you replied, “In fact, why don’t we all play? Two-Bit? Dal? You want in?” 

The rest of the afternoon was spent in laughter, playful arguing, and competitive gameplay. You taught Johnny, Ponyboy, and some of the rest of the gang how to play Texas Hold’em. You all bet cigarettes as chips, giving the game some real stakes. Eventually, Darry arrived home; the oldest Curtis brother could not be convinced to join the game, shaking his head but ultimately enjoying the chaos occurring at his dining room table. By the time everyone called it quits, Steve and Two-Bit both won one hand, Soda and Dally both won two, Johnny won three, and you won four. 

“Ponyboy, you have the worst poker face!” you exclaimed, laughing as you gathered the cards.

“You better not have any run-ins with the fuzz,” Two-Bit cackled, “you’ll crack for sure!”

“Now I know why gambling’s illegal. I barely have any cigarettes left. If we were betting real money, I would’ve lost my house,” Steve joked.

“That’s why you won’t be doin’ it with real money, isn’t that right boys?” Darry called with a stern look etched on his face.

The boys all nodded in unison, making you giggle.

“You going home tonight Johnny?” Dally questioned with concern.

Johnny shook his head, taking a seat on the couch.

“Speaking of going home, I think I overstayed my welcome. Besides, I need to start smoking all the cigarettes you guys let me steal from you,” you said with a wink, making the boys groan in response. 

You made your way toward the door, ruffling Pony’s hair as you walked past him.

“Y/N!” You turned around at the sound of Soda’s voice. “You could never overstay your welcome. You can come here whenever you like,” he said with a smile.

Your heart warmed at his words and you nodded appreciatively. You opened the door, tossing a goodbye over your shoulder as you exited, Dally close behind.

The two of you walked in silence for a while. You and Dally could talk about any and everything but as your relationship progressed, you also became comfortable in each other's quiet company. That being said, your mind was restless.

“Why did you ask Johnny if he was going home tonight?” you blurted.

“Johnny’s folks are no good, man,” Dally replied after a moment, “every time he goes home, he comes back with new bruises.” 

You nodded, thinking to yourself.

“Where does he go instead?” you questioned.

“He stays at the Curtis’ or he goes to the lot.”

You nibbled on your bottom lip. You hated that. You hated that Johnny was spending nights alone, sleeping on a busted seat in an empty lot. But what you hated, even more, was that he thought it better than being at home. If that place could even be called a home. The more you thought about it, the angrier you got. You clenched your hands at your sides.

Suddenly, you felt Dally’s hand grab your clenched one.

“I know. I hate it too. But you ain’t doin’ nothin’ for him by working yourself up over it, so relax,” he said.

You took a deep breath.

“You were- You were upset earlier. Why?” you interrogated.

Dallas often marveled at your ability to read him. You seemed to always know how he was feeling without him having to say a word. You just got him in a way no one had before.

“I just… I didn’t like how Soda was touching you, doll.”

“You were jealous?” you thought aloud, a smirk growing on your face.

“I wasn’t jealous,” Dally said defensively, looking away from you.

“You totally were!” 

“I wasn’t!”

“Just admit it, you were jealous!”

Dally stopped in front of your house, tackling you into a hug. 

“Shut up man,” Dally said, kissing your neck, causing you to giggle.

“We’ve talked about this though Dal,” you replied seriously. “You know I only have eyes for you.”

“I know, doll. But ya gotta understand. I don’t trust em’, other guys I mean,” said Dallas carefully.

“But you can trust me,” you replied earnestly, “and Soda’s your friend.”

“I know,” Dally looked at the ground. “Can I- I wanna give you somethin’.”

“What is it?” Dallas slowly removed his St. Christopher from his neck. “Oh Dally, I couldn’t-”

“I want you to have it,” he said resolutely, “come on, turn around”

You turned your back to Dallas, allowing him to secure the chain around your neck. You fiddled with the silver pendant. When he was finished, you turned to face him.

“Thank you. I’ll treasure it forever,” you said with a smile.

Dally looked down at you, placing his hands on your face. His thumbs stroked your cheeks before pressing a passionate kiss to your lips. You guys stayed like that for a while, kissing under a street lamp on a warm September night. 

✩⋆｡‧₊˚⭑˚₊‧｡⋆✩

Dallas Winston had completely changed your life. It was a surprise to everyone but you that he was capable of changing it for the better. His gang quickly adopted you into their group; you went to movies with Ponyboy, made lunches on weekdays for Darry, visited Soda and Steve at the DX, drank with Two-Bit on weekends, and all the while maintained your multi-weekly sleepovers with Dallas. Out of everyone, though, you had grown particularly close to Johnny.

You no longer allowed Johnny to sleep at the lot. If he couldn’t stay at the Curtis’, you insisted that he stay with you. Dally, admittedly, wasn’t overjoyed to be sharing you with his best friend but he knew you couldn’t bear to let Johnny sleep in the lot, especially with the changing season; It was one of the many things Dallas loved about you. You helped Johnny with his homework when you could, went to the Dingo, taught him how to play a variety of your favorite games, read to him, and even cleaned his wounds after he visited his parents. Despite popular belief, Johnny was smart. You truly loved and treated Johnny like a brother. And Johnny loved you too, the first woman in his life to treat him with compassion.

You were at the Curtis house baking cookies for the boys. It was the holiday season and you wanted to do something nice for the gang.

“Hurry up! I want my cookies!” shouted Two-Bit from the living room.

“You keep shouting at me, and you aren’t getting any!” you called back.

“Do we pour in the dry ingredients now?” asked Ponyboy.

“Not yet, Johnnycake hasn’t cracked the eggs,” you replied.

Johnny moved to crack the eggs. He disposed of the eggshells while you mixed the wet ingredients. Ponyboy poured in the dry ingredients, missing half the bowl. You shook your head as the boys laughed, sweeping the powder in with their hands. You were glad you cleaned the area and made the boys wash their hands before you started baking. Once everything was incorporated, Johnny started mixing. You busied yourself by greasing the cookie sheets. Pony leaned against the counter, gazing at Dally’s St. Christopher hanging around your neck.

“Y/N, are you in love with Dally?”

You nearly dropped the cookie sheet you were holding, making Johnny laugh.

“Yeah Y/N, are you in love?” Johnny said, teasing, but still genuinely curious.

“What kind of question is that?” you exclaimed, your face hot with embarrassment. The two boys looked at you expectantly, causing you to sigh. “Of course I do. I love Dally with all my heart. But we’ve never said anything like that to each other before so keep your mouths shut, you hear?” 

The boys nodded, smiling.

“What’s it like?” Johnny questioned.

“Soda says bein’ in love is real nice,” Ponyboy answered.

“Well, I can’t speak for Soda,” you said, “but being in love with Dal is like… being at the top of a roller coaster. It’s exciting and enthralling and it makes you feel all fuzzy.” Johnny and Ponyboy watched you carefully. “So- So I guess Soda’s right… it’s real nice,” you smiled.

✩⋆｡‧₊˚⭑˚₊‧｡⋆✩

Dallas hadn’t returned any of your calls in the past five days. You were rather busy as it was the beginning of a new year and you assumed Dally just hadn’t been able to get back to you. But when the weekend finally came and you still hadn’t heard back from him, you were beginning to feel worried. You walked over to Buck’s hoping to find him there but he wasn’t. Buck informed you that he hadn’t even seen Dally in the past five days. Hearing that immediately sent you from worried to full-on terrified. You ran as fast as you could to the Curtis house. 

You pushed the gate open and ran up the steps, frantically knocking on the door. Johnny opened it, looking down at you from your spot on the stairs.

“Johnnycake,” you spoke through labored breaths, “have you seen Dal? I went looking for him but Buck hasn’t seen him and he hasn’t answered any of my calls. I- I’m starting to get really worried, Johnny, please tell me you’ve seen him.”

“You mean you don’t know?” Johnny asked, shocked.

“Know what? Johnny, what’s going on?” Johnny pulled you inside, the whole gang was there, looking at you sorrily. “You guys are really freaking me out. Where’s Dal? What happened?”

“Dal’s in the cooler Y/N,” Two-Bit said finally.

The boys all looked to the ground, unable to meet your eyes.

“He’s- He’s what?” 

You couldn’t believe it. You didn’t want to believe it.

“Y/N-,” Soda started.

“No. No.” You shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes “Can I see him? I need to see him. Darry,” you approached him, “take me to see him. Please. Please take me to see him.”

Darry looked into your eyes, he'd never seen you so desperate.

“Alright kid, I’ll take you.”

“I’m coming too,” Johnny announced.

The car ride was quiet; the only sound that could be heard was the tires against the road. 

You knew Dallas had been to jail on multiple occasions for a variety of different stretches. But the image of Dally in a prison uniform, locked up in a cell, made your heart ache. Tears began streaming down your face at the thought. You laid your head on Johnny’s shoulder and cried silently.

When you arrived, Darry told you and Johnny to head inside while he waited in the car. The two of you met a lady at the front desk, giving her your names along with Dallas’. She invited you to wait while they informed him of your visit. Finally, she led the both of you to ‘the visitation room’.

There were two rows of seats facing each other, separated by glass. Each column was divided by walls, and a phone hung from the left wall of every column on both sides of the glass. Johnny stood at the edge of the room and you took a seat, fiddling with the pendant on the necklace Dally gave to you.

When Dallas entered, you watched from the other side of the glass as the cop removed the cuffs from his wrists. Dally had a nasty bruise on the side of his face. He sat at the seat across from you, picking up the phone. You copied his actions.

“Hey dollface.”

“Hey Dal,” you forced a smile, tears welling up in your eyes, “ are you okay?”

“I’ll be alright.”

“Is there really nothing I can do to get you out of here?” you questioned, tears spilling from your eyes.

“Please don’t cry, doll. I can’t stand to watch you cry.”

“This is killing me, Dal.”

“I know, doll. I know. And I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. But listen to me, alright? They said I got four months in here if I stay on my best behavior. I’m gonna be a saint, alright? I swear it. They’ll let me out early and I’ll come home to you. I promise,” he said decidedly. 

“Okay,” you nodded, tears streaming down your face.

“You gotta promise me you won’t come back here. I don’t want you to see me like this, ya understand? Just take care of the boys and wait for me. I promise I’ll come back to you.”

“Fine,” you said. “Dal, I-”

“Don’t say it. Not now. Just wait for me, alright?”

You nodded, hanging up the phone. You turned and left the room, Dally’s eyes on you as you exited. Dallas gestured for Johnny. 

Johnny sat down in your seat, picking up the phone just as you did.

“Hey Dal,” said Johnny.

“Hey kid. Listen, take care of Y/N for me, alright?”

“‘Course I will.”

“Thanks Johnnycake.”

Johnny had never heard Dallas say ‘thank you’ to anybody for anything. Johnny knew then that you were truly important to Dally, that Dally loved you.

✩⋆｡‧₊˚⭑˚₊‧｡⋆✩

That night, after your visitation with Dally, you stayed at the Curtis’; you fell asleep on Soda and Ponyboy’s shared bed, tucked between Johnny and Ponyboy as Pony read aloud.

In the following months, you did exactly what Dallas told you to do; you took care of the boys and waited for him. The boys took care of you too, sometimes unknowingly. Not a moment went by, though, that you didn’t think about Dally: his eyes, his smile, the feeling of his lips on yours. You missed him gravely and your driving force became the knowledge that he would, eventually, come home. 

It was a late morning at the Curtis house, as per usual on weekends. It had been four months since you had visited Dally in jail, but you believed that it was still far too early in the month for Dallas to be coming home anytime soon. You were cooking eggs and french toast for the boys, humming to the music playing through your record player. You had dragged the sound system over months prior, noticing that you were spending more time at the Curtis’ than your own home. You piled two pieces of toast next to some plated eggs. A new song began and you moved your hips to the rhythm, singing along. You were in your own world, completely unaware of what was happening in the rest of the house. You were dancing across the kitchen floor when you heard it, the voice you thought about every day for months.

“Jeez doll, I’m starting to think you didn’t miss me at all.”

You spun around so fast, you were impressed that you didn’t get whiplash. You dropped your spatula, legs carrying you as fast as they could, jumping into his arms. Dally laughed at the impact.

“Oh Dal, you’re home! You’re finally home!” you pressed your lips to his, months of longing behind a single kiss. You hugged him close. “I missed you so much.”

Suddenly, Dally threw you over his shoulder. You squealed in surprise. Dally made his way through the Curtis home, you giggling into his back. 

“Say bye to the boys, Y/N,” Dally announced.

"Bye!" you said, face red from the blood flow to your head.

A chorus of goodbyes could be heard from the boys as you exited.

✩⋆｡‧₊˚⭑˚₊‧｡⋆✩

You were laying in bed with Dallas in his single room above Buck’s bar, just like you had done many times before. But this time was different as you had waited months for this moment, to be in his arms again.

“I missed you so much Dal,” you reiterated.

“I missed ya too, doll. So much,” he said. Dallas looked into your eyes, stroking your cheek with his thumb. He remembered the thing you wanted to say to him when you visited him in jail, the thing he stopped you from saying, the thing he thought about you saying for the past four months. “I love you,” he blurted out, surprising himself and you. 

Your eyes widened at his confession, mouth slightly agape. You searched his eyes for any regret or doubt but there was none.

“I love you, Dal. I love you so much.”

He kissed you, tongue prodding at your bottom lip for entry. You allowed him, tongues molded together in an eloquent dance. When you parted, he rested his forehead against yours.

“I’m no good with words, doll. You know that. But I’m lucky. I’m lucky to love you.”

[venusxsturnio]

| UNDER THE INFLUENCE - Chris Brown

PAIRINGღ matt x black!fem!reader

SUMMARYღ y/n went out with some friends for a couple drinks, she eventually got drunk some might say she was under the influence. after a while her friends called her boyfriend Matt to come and get her. they went home and he took care of her. :)

FROM VENUSღ hope you enjoy this story...it's my first. black!fem!reader btw, but this story's for anyone. :)

WARNINGSღ cursing...fluff...use of the word babe/baby...and maybe a tiny make out sesh? :)

proofread!

11:43 PM

y/n was sitting at a table with some of her friends, at the club. they were all staring at her, most of them worried. she had one to many drinks that night. one of her friends even decided to call her boyfriend, as most of them were pretty fucked up themselves.

"Guys you know..." y/n gagged a little... "That I can like totally danceeee...?" y/n said dragging her words a little as the group preceded to look at her in confusion. y/n decides to get out of her seat, stand on the counter and start dancing. she even earned a few looks from a couple guys around the club. before she could further embarrass herself, she felt someone grabbing her bridal style and walking away.

y/n looked at the mysterious man and spoke. "Hey...I have a boyfriend ya know. He's gonna get you..." y/n said dragging her words again, while pointing in his face. her vision appeared to be blurry so she couldn't really make out the man who was carrying her. "Is he strong?" the mysterious man said to y/n. "Yeah. He'll like totally..." y/n gagged again "beat your ass..." y/n said dragging her words once again. "Oh yeah...tell me more about this boyfriend of yours." y/n's vision was starting to become a little clearer as the man spoke. "Hey...you look kind of familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?" y/n asked drunkenly as they approached the car.

the mysterious man opened the door to the car and sat y/n down gently and put on her seatbelt. "Wanna take a guess?" the man said. y/n stared at the man for a few moments before realizing who the mysterious man was. y/n gasped as she raised her hands and brought them to the man's face. "Hi baby..." she kisses him on his nose completely missing his lips. "Hi y/n" he says smiling weakly from being tired because it's so late at night. he got into the car and started it up, they pulled out of the parking lot and started down the road. Matt, y/n's boyfriend was staring at the road until he heard y/n speak. "Matt... I'm hungry..." y/n said slowly. Matt looked in her direction with a soft expression on his face that she couldn't read. he drove to the closest McDonalds and orders her favorite meal. as soon as she got the food she smiled and looked at him and started eating her food.

12:00 PM

they eventually made it back to their place. y/n finished her food and they got out of the car. Matt had to carry her once again just so she wouldn't get hurt. they made it to the door, and Matt unlocked it, carrying y/n inside. "Come on babe, let's get you cleaned up.." Matt said with a smile on his face as he carried y/n up the stairs bridal style. they made it to their room. "Babe drop your shoes right there.." Matt said being that y/n had her shoes clutched in the hand that was hanging. she dropped her shoes as Matt placed her on the bed gently as he went into their closet to grab her some comfy pajamas for tonight.

He went into their bathroom and ran the water as he brought y/n into the bathroom and sat her onto the toilet seat. He took of her dress, then her bra, then her underwear. He used one of the hair ties he had resting on his wrist to tie up her braids. He helped her gently into the bathtub as he went to grab her favorite makeup remover. He grabbed a rag from off the hook and wet it. He brought up to her face gently as she flinched at the cold touch of the liquid. He finished cleaning her up and got her dressed.

"Matt?" y/n said as she got ready to lie down. "yea?" he replied as he put the covers over her and went to the other side of the bed so he could lay down as well. "cuddles?" he smiled at her as he laid down and wrapped his arm around her waist. "of course" Matt stared at his girlfriend in awe as she looked up at him with the biggest smile on her face. "Thank you Matt. For taking care of me..." y/n said as she brought her hands up to his face and caressed his cheek. "Of course babe."

Matt said leaning down to kiss his girlfriend. but the kiss lasted a little longer than he thought. the kiss deepened as y/n held onto his face. Matt shoved his toung into y/n's mouth as they swirled around each other. they parted from the kissed and looked at each other. they adored each other. "Goodnight." y/n said kissing Matt one more time on the cheek before turning over, "Goodnight y/n." Matt said cuddling with y/n as they both fell into a deep sleep.

FROM VENUSღ hi guys this is just a little imagine to hold you guys off until the polls are over. tbh i'm kind of scared to write that story, but my dm's are open so if you have any ideas for me or any suggestions on things you want me to write go ahead! i hope you guys enjoy! (dm me if you wanna get tagged :)

[mjolnirswriststrap]

I Know You Liked It

Steve x Reader x Loki

Summary: Loki uses his cloaking magic for good. You get the revenge against Steve that you deserve.

Warnings: fuckboy!Steve, gender bending, sexual confusion, ropes, ball gags and butt plugs.

Masterlist

Steve had never seen a woman so captivating. Charcoal hair accompanied by jade green eyes. Her skin was so fair she had a glow about her. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her all night. It prompted Bucky to tease him and make bets that he wouldn’t dare walk up to her. Steve took him up on every bet, he wanted to talk to her even if there was no money involved.

So Steve found himself, tail between his legs, walking up to the mysterious girl. Besides her alluring aura and eyes that seemed to find his no matter where he was in the room. He would call her mysterious because he had never saw her at one of Tony Stark’s infamous parties. He’d been front and center of everyone. Tony’s favorite toys he liked to show off were the vintage ones, like Steve.

The woman must be new to the tower, or else she’d know better than to make eyes at Steve. He had a reputation for chewing women up and spitting them out. You knew that of course. It’s the reason you sent her in there all alone, looking so fuckable.

When you first started working for Tony, you knew certain aspects of the job would be unconventional. You didn’t know how unconventional they would be, but still you accepted. Steve made his intentions known to you, rather quickly.

At first you were flattered. Captain America, the world’s sweetheart, interested in a measly intern. You’re embarrassed by how fast you gave it up. All it took was Steve, walking into the office late one night. Every cubicle desolate except yours.

A bendable desk lamp and the light from your monitor lit up your tired face. He gave you a pitiful look, jutting out his bottom lip. Looking back, it was more than patronizing, he was torturing you, but you were too delusional to notice.

“What’s a pretty girl like you still doing at work on a Saturday night? Don’t you have better things to be doing?” He steps into your personal space, leaning back to sit on the reports you just worked so hard on. “Places to be, people to see?”. You were so nervous of saying the wrong thing, so you took forever to respond. You sat there, looking into his prying eyes, not that they were looking into yours. They were focused on the cleavage your shirt allowed.

“I um, I don’t have any plans.” You said, instantly blushing when he finally looked to your face. He nods, crossing his arms in-front of his chest. “I had such a long day, I couldn’t think of one good reason to go out.” His eyes lights up when you said that. Like it was an instant challenge. Of course you went out with him. You ended up at a club, tucked back in a booth. He had invited all of his friends, But insisted there was no time to call your friends to come.

He didn’t even let you go home to change, he said you looked perfect in what you were wearing. No one else at the club wore business casual, so you’d say it wasn’t perfect. He ignored you most of the night, one of his friends, a man named Sam, you’d never saw him before, he must be new to the team based on how they spoke. He gave you sad looks all night, like he knew your fate, but didn’t have the courage to warn you.

You never drank much, and you didn’t start that night. One fruity drink lasted you the whole time you were there. Steve kept trying to buy you new ones, and offering you shots but you always turned him down. You remember when the famous god of thunder brought out a wooden jug and poured Steve and Bucky mugs full of a golden liquid. He wasn’t the same after he downed it. It’s like all the drinks he had before hit him all at once.

He looked over to you and said “The guys wanna take the party back to my place, are you down?” You didn’t wanna ruin the vibe so you agreed instantly. No protests came from you as you and Steve rose from the table and made you way back to the tower. No alarms raised in your head when you got there and his apartment was dark. He kicked off his shoes haphazardly, not caring where they landed.

“Hey, when are your friends getting here?” You say, sitting on the couch, slipping off your work heels, blisters starting to form after 16 hours of wear. Steve comes and sits awfully close to you. “They should be here soon, they were leaving right after us.” He throws his arm around you shoulder, smiling innocently.

You don’t remember why you ignored the chill that ran down your spine, or your rapid heart beat; screaming at you to get out. You looked into his blue eyes and got lost. Tangled up in the different shades. You leaned in and kissed him, pulling away and coving your face. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.” He grabs your hands and pulls them away from your eyes. “It’s okay, I want to try it again.” He kissed you like he needed you. Like he actually wanted you. You were just another girl to him. Just another girl to get fucked and never get called back.

At first, you were hurt, you never saw it coming. Your crush kept you from seeing his red flags. Once you got over it, you easily moved on, if he’s whoring himself around, then the jokes on him. You didn’t find yourself thinking about it again till you overheard the girl in the cubicle beside yours crying to a group of coworkers. “Then he told me he’d call, but when I got home, and tried to text him, my number was blocked.”

“I told you, you weren’t special. He did the same to me when I started here. You didn’t want to listen though.” A blonde girl says, shaking her head. You keep quiet, not wanting to share in the office embarrassment. Of course, you weren’t special either. You didn’t want to know how many of your coworkers shared your experience, but you wanted revenge for all of you. You had no plans curated till the man with the golden liquid brought his brother to work.

You instantly had a connection with Loki. You both seemed to flow so freely with each other. It wasn’t exclusive and you both understood and wanted that. He was too wild to chain down, and you didn’t want to be the reason he lost his spark. But being with him opened you up to a whole new world of dating. You no longer spend your Saturday nights behind a desk in a dark office. You’re at a different club, kissing a different stranger. Loki showed you how beautiful you really are, and beautiful girls don’t deserve guys like Steve.

At first Loki laughed when you told him how naive you were, letting Steve take advantage of you so easily. He didn’t believe that you could let that happen, not the woman he’d grown to love and adore. But when he saw how much hurt the memories caused you, he was furious. His laughs turned into quick pacing, “So I can either kill him or I can kill him.” He said. You faced him, shaking your head “You know how Tony feels about work place drama. I don’t wanna get fired for causing problems.”

Loki watched as your shoulders sagged in defeat. He would do anything to change how you felt in that moment. “I have an idea, but you have to promise not to get jealous sweets” he grins widely. You look at him, worried about what he had planned “What?”.

“If Steve has no repercussions for sleeping with half the building, why would I?” He said, holding his arms out to his sides like he just laid out the most perfect blueprint. “I’m sorry, I’m not following.” You say, utterly confused. “I’m saying, let’s humiliate him like he humiliated you.” He strode over and sat beside you “I wanna do this for you.”

That’s how you ended up in the back of the room, sipping on your second glass of champagne for the night. You watched as Steve tiptoed up to Loki, hands in his pockets. You gag, not because of the alcohol, but because of the way Loki as a woman turned you on more than Steve ever did.

You watched as Loki gripped on the captain’s tie, throwing her head back like what Steve said was the funniest thing in the world. She was throwing herself at him, knowing he wouldn’t be able to resist her. You wouldn’t be able to either, when Loki transformed himself into herself, you instantly felt so many emotions, you didn’t know if you wanted to be her, fuck her, or you were insecure that your boyfriend is prettier than you no matter what gender he is.

You followed behind them as they made their way to Steve’s apartment. Loki pretended to be tipsy, acting like Steve was the only source of gravity in the hall. You stayed back as they tumbled into his door. The plan was, after Loki subdued him, you’d sneak in, take some pictures that would find themselves in the weekly newsletter.

You waited for five minutes and went for the handle but it was locked, you figured Loki hadn’t found the right moment to unlock it. Weird you think, since they’re magic and all. After another 10 minutes you hear the lock click and the door slowly creaks open. You step inside, whispering “Hello?” Loki reveals himself, walking from the bedroom, already transformed back to his usual appearance.

“Is he asleep?” You say, wiping your nervous palms on your pants. Loki just looks at you, “Something like that, just don’t forget, this is what you wanted.” You were unsure after his response. When you walked into the room, Steve was tied to his headboard, a ball gag stuffed into his mouth. “Loki!”

“He deserves it sweets, I could be hurting him, would you rather me hurt him?” Loki looks at you, hurt that you don’t appreciate his efforts. “No, no baby, I just didn’t expect this.” You raise the Polaroid to your face and snap the first picture.

“Did you enchant him?” You ask. “Of course, how else do you think that ropes still holding? I made him think he couldn’t break free, and he can’t scream.” You look into Loki’s eyes and you’re amazed at his attention to detail. He’s absolutely insane, but it’s for all the right reasons.

You look down at the crying super soldier, “Do you wanna say something, hmm?” Steve nods vigorously. You unbuckle the strap, letting the ball fall to his chest. “Let me go, I won’t tell anyone about what happened if you guys just let me go now.” You hear Loki stifle a laugh behind you.

You grin at his giggles. “And why would we do that?” You bat your eyelashes at Steve’s pleading eyes. “You’re getting what you deserve.” And you snap another picture of his tear stained face. You reattach the strap to the gag and walk over to Loki. “What did you have in mind?” “I was thinking about getting him on his knees, plugging him.”

You lean down, making eye contact with Steve, “You like it when girls are on their knees, don’t you captain?”. Loki raises his hand, causing Steve to flip over, with his other hand he conjures a large silicone plug. “Oh, we can’t hurt him.” You laugh as Loki changes models.

You snap picture after picture, eventually you started to feel like a snuff director. Steve found himself in many compromising positions. Loki used his magic one more time before you left, Steve wouldn’t remember a second of what happened, but his body would. Just like your body remembers being used by him.

As you’re looking through the collage of photos, spread out on your bed, Loki walks into the room. “I’ve been wondering something. What took so long?” You say, questions your boyfriend. “What do you mean?” He says. “You said it would take a few moments once you got him inside. It took 15 minutes.” You blink at him.

“It took more than I thought to get him to the bed. He wanted to sit on the couch. I had to persuade him to move it to the bedroom.” Loki says, scratching the back of his head. “Plus you agreed not to get jealous.”

“What did you do exactly?” You say, putting away the photos you plan on digitally scanning later. You move back till you’re pressed against the headboard, watching Loki. He transforms back into the beautiful woman from the night before. “I walked up to him, and sat on his lap.” Loki mirrored her spoken actions on you. Sitting on your lap, wrapping her arms around your neck. “I may have kissed him, like this.”. You gasp when her full lips press against yours. She straddles your legs and grinds herself on your lap. “Then I leaned back and let him touch me, like this.” Loki grabs your hands, running them up and down her sides, feeling the curve of her breasts. You feel yourself get turned on by the sight of her.

“Okay, I’m starting to feel like I didn’t experiment enough in college, I get the idea Lok’.” You say, tapping her thigh to signal to move. “He was practically drooling when he climbed into that bed.” Loki says, shifting back to being male. “I really hope this works and I didn’t pimp my boyfriend out for nothing.”. He cracks up, falling pack into the pillow beside you.

“The look on his face was enough revenge for me. That felt better than fighting him.” Loki says, proud that he chose plan b. “I think you messed him up pretty good. If you hadn’t enchanted him, I know he would have scars from seeing you turn into a dude after sticking his tongue down you throat.” You both burst out into a fit of laughter. Loki was quite literally the god of mischief and you had no qualms about indulging him.

You turn over to look at the guy who changed everything for you, “Gosh, I really don’t know what I’d do without you.” You say, petting his long locks. He reaches up and holds your hand, placing a kiss to the palm. “You’re perfect all on your own.”

The next morning, the newsletter made its way to everyone’s inbox. A staff meeting was scheduled instantly. You and Loki strolled in, knowing smiles on your faces. Everyone was smiling, especially Sam, like he was seeing justice in action. Tony started by saying Friday will be working to find the person who sent the newsletter out, even going as far as saying Friday would find the exact copier the photos were scanned on. You knew your home setup was untraceable, there’s a reason you got the internship with Tony. Not only did you pull the god of mischief, but you were a tech guru too.

As you all filed your way out of the room, Loki walked behind Steve, whispering in his ear “I know you liked it.” Steve jerked his head to look at Loki, “What did you say to me?”. You could see his rage emitting from his face. “Oh don’t be coy, everyone saw the photographs, you looked like you were enjoying yourself, that’s all I’m saying.” Loki slithers his way into manipulating Steve. He stomps his way past the group of people trying to exit, looking like a pouting toddler. You and Loki, hold in your laughter as you wait your turn to leave.

[cinemastyles-backup]

Summary: Y/n meets Harry at a frat party and it goes.. well?

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, weed smoking, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, oral (both), hair pulling, choking, etc. just filth

My original CinemaStyles-blog has been terminated, so I created a new one.

"Come on, y/n. Its not everyday that we get invited to the one and only Alpha Pi Kappa." My best friend, Margo says as she pulls on my arm, "Come on. Please." She gets down besides me and sticks out her lip, "Please?"

I sigh, "Isn't their dumbass leader Harry?"

She raises her eye brows and smirks, "Yes it is."

I roll my eyes, "No."

"No? How could you say no to .." she gets on her phone and taps before flipping it around towards me, "This." Her screen shows Harry, shirtless, at the beach with his other numbskull buddies.

I smirk slightly and shake my head, "Yeah he's hot. Okay, I'll give him that, but if you're not a popular girl or super hot like him, he won't think twice about you."

"That's why we get hot! Now come on." She stands up and opens the closet, "Pick something. My selection of party wear is way better than yours.. no offense."

I laugh knowing she's right.

"Okay fine." I sigh and get up from my bed, "Oh. This little black dress is cute. I think it'll go good with those red heels I have."

She nods vigorously, "Yes yes yes!"

— — —

My heels clack against the road as we quickly cross with a group of people - all going to the same place we are.

I wrap my arms around myself trying to contain everything. My boobs are about to bust out of this dress.

The music is so loud I can hear it from down the street.

There's people hanging around outside, someone is behind held up doing a keg stand and the bystanders are chanting "Chug! Chug! Chug!"

I chuckle and look around for Margo.

"Hey." She comes up behind me, "Ready? Harry is inside. I wanna get a good look at him." She winks at me and heads for the steps.

I follow after her. She stops as we get inside, looking around in awe. "This is awesome! I'm going to get us a drink!" She yells over the music bumping.

I nod and walk over to a non crowded corner.

My eyes scan the room.

No, I'm not looking for Harry per say, but if he come into my line of vision, I wouldn't mind it. I only ever spoke to him once and he seemed higher than a kite. He bumped into me and didn't even apologize.

Asshole.

Margo comes up to me and hands me a solo cup containing a mystery beverage, "What is this?"

"I don't know, I told the guy making the drinks to make me something good." She goes to drink her concoction but I stop her, "Did you watch him make these? He didn't spike them did he?"

"Oh my god, Thea. Stop worrying so much. Just shut up and drink." She chugs her drink and throws her cup on the floor, "You're not done? Come on, I want to dance!"

I sigh and swirl the liquid around before downing it.

"Oh my god." I try not to gag, "That was so gross."

She grabs my hand, "Come on. Harry is over here. Let's give him a show." She drags me through the crowd of people, planting us directly in the middle.

She starts to move her body against mine. Her hands sliding down my sides. I slowly start to get into it, my hands dragging across hers, turning around to face her.

"He's watching." I see her lips mouth. She points to the left of us and there stands Harry with a bunch of guys and girl, his arm slung over the one red head.

I clench my jaw at the site.

Is it because I hate him? Is it because I'm jealous?

Honestly, I have no idea.

I look away from him but I can feel his stare on me. I bite my lip and start to get into dancing with Margo more. I turn her around and grab her hips as she grinds back onto me.

I flip my hair and slide my hand down her back, glancing over at Harry who now is standing up straight with his arms crossed.

I turn Margo around and I do to her what she did to me. When I look back, Harry's gone.

"Mind if I cut in?" A tall blonde asks slipping between us, "Sure." I smile slightly but that fades as he chooses to dance with Margo.

I stand there, looking around to see if anyone wants to dance with me. I quickly move off the dance floor and go back to my corner. My insecurities fighting their way to the surface.

I shouldn't have worn this dress. I should have just stayed home. I shouldn't be here.

"Hey pretty lady." A guy slams into the wall next to me, "What are y-ou doing all alone?" I lean away from him, "Too drunk. Nope." I go to walk away but he grabs my wrist and pulls me to him.

I yank my wrists but his grip is too tight for me to break free, "Don't be like that, baby." He leans in to try and kiss me but is shoved and he bounces off the wall onto the floor.

"She said no."

I look up to see Harry standing there. He looks over at me, "I told them not to let this shit head in anymore." He looks down at 'shit head' and moves his arm with his shoe, "Get out."

The guy gets up quickly and stumbles towards the door.

Harry looks over at me, "You alright?" I nod, "Um, yeah. I'm good." He nods, "You smoke?"

"Smoke what?" I ask, my innocence really showing.

He laughs and nods towards the stairs, "Come on." He starts to walk away and my legs automatically follow him.

As I follow him, I watch as his arm flexes with each grab of the railing. I think to myself how it would feel gripping my hair as I-

I'm lost in my thoughts that I didn't realize he stopped, "Oops. Sorry." I mumble as I step back from him.

"You're good. Here." He point to a door, "Come on." He opens the door and lets me walk in first. There's two guys sitting in low lounge chairs across from each other.

"What's up, Styles?" The one says holding out the, what I'm guessing is a blunt. Harry takes it and brings it up to his lips. I watch him as he slowly exhales the smoke.

My eyes go to the floor as he looks over at me, "This is y/n." I look up at the guys and hold my hand up, "Hi."

"This is Zayn and this is Louis." Harry walks over and plops down onto the third lounger, "Come here." I slowly walk over to him and he holds his hand out, "Sit."

"On your lap?" I whisper to him. He smirks and nods, "Only if you want to." I nod once before sliding onto his legs. He wraps an arm around my back to support me and lays the other one over my thighs.

"This party is getting boring." He states as he takes the blunt from, I think Louis.

"Yeah, that's why we're up here." Zayn laughs, "Too many people. I'm over it."

Louis agrees, "Totally. So y/n, you go to school here?" I turn my head to look at him and nod with a smile, "Yeah."

Harry nudges me and I look over and down at his hand. Between his ring covered fingers is the blunt with a line of smoke coming from it, "Want a hit?"

I slowly reach up and take the object into my own fingers and bring it up to my lips.

"Now you might cou-"

I cut Harry off with a vicious cough. I bring my arm up and cover my mouth with my elbow, "Oh god." I place my hand on my chest and calm down.

"Here love." Louis sets a water bottle into Harry's hand, "You ever smoke before?"

I shake my head, slightly embarrassed.

"Well congratulations, we just took your stoner virginity." Zayn smiles as he take a hit, "Welcome to the club."

I smile and look down at the blunt before taking another hit. This time I don't cough.

"Hold it for a few seconds before exhaling." Harry says watching me, "It'll feel so good." He lightly squeezes my thigh and I swallow anxiously.

I start to feel dizzy almost, but it's a good kind of dizzy.

"Do you guys do this all the time?" I giggle, "This is awesome."

"She's feeling good." Louis chuckles, "Oh to be a new stoner and not have to smoke so much."

I zone out of their conversation and turn my head to look at Harry. He has his head tilted back as he takes another hit. He opens his eyes and I smile at him when he looks at me.

He reaches up and grabs my chin, pulling me to him. His lips brush against mine, "Open and inhale." He says while holding in his breathe.

I do as he says and he exhales the smoke into my mouth. I hold it for a few seconds before exhaling the excess.

"Now that, my dear, is called shotgunning." Louis says proudly, "That's one of my favorite thing to do."

I keep my eyes on Harry as he brings the blunt to my lips. I wrap my lips around and close my eyes as I feel the smoke hit my throat. I tilt my head back and look down at Harry with a smirk.

He stay still but parts his lips, indicating he wants me to come to him. I lean down and press my lips to his before I lean back and blow the smoke into his mouth.

He shakes his head slightly with a smirk. His hand slides up and down my back and I feel it leave for a split second before it's right back to where it was.

"We're going to be right back." Zayn and Louis get up and leave the room.

"How do you feel?" Harry whispers lowly, "You look like you feel good."

I bite my lip at his words and nod slowly, "Why don't you find out." I shock myself with how confident I sounded just now, but I'm going to roll with it.

I shift so I'm straddling him, "That's why you brought me up here isn't it?" He raise show eye brows and tilts his head, "One of the reasons."

"Oh, okay. So why don't we just focus on the one reason now, and we can worry about the other ones after, yeah?" I watch as his lips curl into a smile and his perfect teeth pull his bottom lip between them.

Without another word spoken, he grabs the back of my neck and pulls me towards him, his lips attacking mine. I let out a slight whimper as his teeth sink down into my lip.

"You like that?" He asks lowly.

"Mhm." I lean back in and continue making out with him. His hands push my dress up and hie slips his fingers into the band of my panties, "These are mine now."

I nod and help him get them off. He stuff them into his pocket before his hand goes back to in between my legs, "Fuck. You're soaked already."

"I kept thinking about you." I whimper as he plays with my clit.

"Thinking about what?" He asks, watching my face twitch with pleasure, "Tell me and I'll give you more."

"You. Your cock." I gasp as he slides a finger up and down my slit, feeling how wet I am for him.

"What about my cock?" He circles around my opening and goes back to my clit, repeating the action until I answer.

"How good you'd feel in my pussy. My throat. Everywhere." I moan and tilt my head back as he slips a finger in, his rings pushing against my skin.

"Your throat huh? Are you giving me permission?" He brings a hand up and rubs his thumb over my lips and chin, "I'd love to fuck that gorgeous mouth of yours."

I wrap my lips around his thumb and nod as I look into his eyes.

His lips part as I suck and grind my hips on his hand.

"You dirty girl, fucking yourself on my fingers." He leans up and nips my chin, "I'll give you something better here in a little bit, hmm." He plants kisses along my jaw as he slips in another finger.

I moan and arch my back, pushing my hips down onto his fingers more, "Harry." I whimper gripping his shoulders, "I want more."

Without any hesitation, he gets a third inside me and I moan louder, "Fuck." He smirks and lets me grind on his hand, watching me.

"That's it, that's a good girl. You gunna cum for me? I can feel you tightening around my fingers." He whispers into my ear, "Be a good girl and cum for me."

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Harry." I reach down to grab his wrist, rocking my hips a little fast, "I'm gunna cum, oh fuck."

I tighten my thighs and throw my head back with a loud gasp. He tilts my head back to him and kisses me as I come down from my high, "You wanna taste yourself?"

I nod and stick my tongue out. He pulls his fingers out of my pussy slowly and brings them up, "Look at how wet you are, fuck." He inspects them and then lays them on my tongue.

I wrap my lips around them, sucking and swirling my tongue to get every part of his fingers I can.

He moan as he watches my actions, "You're so hot." He pulls his fingers out, "Let me fuck that mouth, baby."

I get off of him and he stands up, taking off his clothes, leaving him naked in front of me. His body is perfectly chiseled and his tattoos make it a thousand times better.

"Take your dress off, I need to see all of you." He starts to pump his cock as I slip out of my dress. I go to take my heel off but he stops me, "Leave 'em on."

I nod and get into my knees, "Fuck I can't wait to feel you gag on my cock." He says as he walks over to me. I look up at him and gently place my hands on his thighs.

"If I get to rough just tap me." He brushes my hair back and holds it into a ponytail. He brushes his cock against my lips and I open, tasting his leaking precum on my tongue.

He moans at the licks of my tongue, "Fuck." I start to bob my head before I push myself all the way down onto him, getting my breathing under control fairly quick.

He tightens his grip on my hair and starts to thrust in and out of my mouth, moaning and cursing with each thrust.

I can feel my eyes start to water and I blink, causing tears to fall down my cheeks. He pulls out and brings me up to my feet. He wipes away my tears and my smile at him, "Don't worry. They're good tears."

He smirks and kisses me again, backing me up until my legs hit the bed, the kiss getting hotter by the second.

"How do you want me to fuck you?" He whispers as he kisses down my neck and chest. He lays me back and kisses down my stomach and over my hips. He looks up at me, waiting for an answer.

I look down at him, "Hard and fast. Don't take it easy on me."

He smirks at my words and spreads my legs, "You're dripping for me, baby. Fuck." He leans in and licks a strip up my pussy and sucks on my clit. I gasp and arch my back off the bed, "Oh fuck."

He grips my hips to keep them on the bed and starts attacking my opening with his tongue. I reach down and tangle my fingers into his curly hair, pulling as he starts to vigorously eat me out.

"H-Harry.." I whimper and gasp as I can feel him bringing me towards my second orgasm of the night, "please don't stop. Please don't stop." I chant over and over, "fuck."

I let out a pleasured scream as Harry continues to eat me out through my high.

He pulls away and crawls up my tired body. He kisses me, shoving his tongue against mine so I can taste myself on him.

"Don't you taste good baby?" He groans as he slides his cock against my wet pussy, "I can't wait to feel inside of you."

I pull him closer to me and continue to kiss him.

The kiss is broken by both of us gasping as he slides into me, bottoming out right away.

"Oh shit. You're so fucking tight and wet, fuck." He curses in a deep groan.

"Fuck Harry I need you to move, please fuck me." I beg desperately.

He sits up, gripping my hips so hard his rings will leave bruises. He pins my hips down and starts to thrusts, not giving me a moment to prepare.

I let out a pleasured scream.

"That's if baby. Let everyone know how good I make you feel." He groans, "Fuck. Let your friend know that I'm fucking you instead of her."

I completely forgot about Margo, but I really don't care right now either.

"Harry. Harry. Fuck, Harry." I moan loudly, desperately trying to grip the sheets for leverage, "Fuckfuckfuck." I arch my back off the bed and moan.

"God damn. You're incredible." He praises, "Fuck."

He brings his thumb to my clit, viciously rubbing circles onto it.

I cum again, clenching around him as I arch and twist my body off the, now, sweaty sheets.

"Mm, fuck." Harry pulls out and I can feel his string of cum land on my stomach, "Shitshitshit." He pants quickly, "Fuck."

I lay there breathing heavy with my eyes closed for a few minutes until Harry comes back and wipes off the cum.

He plops down next to me and looks over at me as he brings one arm up behind his head, "Come here." He extends his free arm, inviting me to lay with him.

"You good?" He asks still breathing kinda heavy. I nod, "Oh yeah. I'm good."

He rubs my arm with his hand and I lay there listening to him breathe, "So how do you know who I am?"

He chuckles, "I've known who you are since the day I ran into you by accident."

I smile, "Really?"

"Yeah, I was so caught of guard by how pretty you were I panicked and all I could get out was-"

"Watch where you're going." I say with him.

He laughs, "Ha. Yeah. Exactly. You remember that?" I nod, "You really don't forget when Harry Styles bumps into you and doesn't apologize even though it's his fault." I giggle and poke his chest.

"Yeah. Yeah, sorry about that." He kisses my head and pulls me closer to him. "This probably isn't the best time, but would you want to go on a date with me?"

I smirk and look up at him, "Only if you roll another blunt for us."

He smiles and nods, "Deal."

——

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