Tumgik
#Female reader
screampied · 1 day
Text
‘ THINK I NEED SOMEONE OLDER ! ’
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ᡴꪫ‎ synopsis. university sucks major ass. on the bright side, you’re on break—you decide to go pay your father a visit. this 'visit' ends up to you being introduced to his best friend, toji. who’s he? maybe your panties know the answer.
wc. 7.0k
warnings. fem! reader, dad's best friend! toji, age gap (reader is over twenty), praise, implied multiple órgasms, unprotected, degradation, size difference, impact play, poor dad is kinda clueless, almost caught, overstimulation.
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“who’s he?”
a simple question — yet the moment the words ran out your mouth, it felt as if all eyes were on you. in reality, it was though. the tall man who was quite a few staggering inches taller than your own father had such a gaze. he had hands buried into the depths of his pockets, shifting his weight as he stood still before burning a stare right into you. an intense stare, you could almost make out somewhat of an intriguing smirk. that sly smile with an everlasting scar running down the right side of his mouth.
“hey honey,” your father waves out with a brief gesture. he throws an arm around the buff man before giving him a rough pat on the back. “this is toji. met him ‘bout a year ago at one of those boat races. heh, news flash—he lost.”
“woah. no need to embarrass me, man,” toji murmurs in a raspy tone and by all means was his voice deep. laced in pure baritone, far deeper than your fathers. by a mile, to be specific. his voice has a jagged huskiness to it, insanely attractive. as he spoke, his eyes flickered towards you and he’d occasionally look away with that same chaffing sneer. “but anyway,” toji averts his eyes back towards you. his cologne was loud, you could smell it from miles away from you. he pauses for a few good seconds before uttering. “it’s nice to meet ya, sweetheart.”
you gulped, suddenly feeling small. you couldn’t pinpoint what it was about him — his demeanor, the way he carried himself, anything was. but it was something that had you a bit drawn in so to speak. “i um..”
“she’s not that much of a speaker,” your father chuckles, giving you a soft rub near your back. “poor brain’s probably all fried from those midterms. right honey?”
“you don’t say.” toji raises a brow, glancing away for a moment with a smile came his dimples, he was suddenly intrigued by his best friend’s daughter.
that was the initial first reaction between the two of you. you ended up staying at your father’s house for the remaining duration of your visit.
nothing too much sparked between the two of you, of course there’d be subtle moments. real subtle moments—stupid things, like having him help you grab something from one of the top shelves.
of course he’d help, he was taller than you by many many inches. effortlessly towering over you. it’s the way he’d press up against you. it was quite hard to shut those thoughts of yours up. those lewd salacious thoughts that were forever kept into the very back of your brain, silently fantasizing about your father’s best friend.
apparently, he stayed for quite around the same time you did since he and your father would typically hang. do all sorts of men activities you never really cared about—golfing, shooting ranges, watching the most recent football games. that was the most annoying part, how they’d both obnoxiously yell at the screen whenever their favorite team was pathetically losing.
your room was directly upstairs, you heard everything. it was as if the walls were merely thin. in a way, they were. the constant repetitious hollering from the two men were so irksome. eyes merely rolled to the back of your head whilst you were trying to scroll on your phone in peace.
you never did understand why a dumb game of balls would drive men so crazy. nevertheless, you let off a tiny sigh before plopping right down in your bed. immensely, you stared off into space.
you had no idea why, but the minute your eyes lingered into the white nearly peeled off drywall near the ceiling, you thought about him. toji.
stupid, maybe…
it’s been a few days and you hardly knew the guy. encounters between him were subtle and brief. he’d nod his head at you, barely acknowledging your existence and going straight back to some meaningless conversation with your father.
there was one day however, one day that had you hot all over. it was when you walked in on toji, he was using the spare shower that no one really uses, it’s reserved mostly for guests—perfect for him in this case.
you remember it like it was yesterday. since you were wide awake during this time for whatever reason, your dad sent you to go replace some towels from downstairs since he was doing laundry so you mindlessly make your way downstairs. the door was visibly cracked. sure, you probably should have knocked but who takes showers around three am?
apparently, this guy.
toji was literally just getting out the shower when you walked in. steam fogged throughout the entire space.
it was hot, stuffy and dampened with mist clinging against the rectangular mirrors. smothered with fog, you practically end up bumping right into something hard.
to be specific, that something was toji’s broad chest. maybe you were a bit delusional but you could have sworn, the moment you made contact with his bulky pecs, it moved upon impact.
“excuse you, sweetheart,” toji would scoff teasingly, his low voice was a bit more rougher since it was late at night. you were definitely speechless, barely able to process a single word from your mouth. thankfully a towel was wrapped around his slim torso—yet you started to wish maybe he didn’t have it protecting his lower half.
your eyes stuck to his chest the entire time, talk about embarrassing. immediately, your pretty dilated pupils ran down his chest, down his v-line, his perfectly structured build . . and then, his happy trail. he was well trimmed of the sort, practically. toji’s version of well trimmed was we, a bit hairy. regardless, it was still an attractive feature.
the more your eyes rove, the more you glance at his nearly perfectly sculptured structure. his chest was painted with a plethora of battle scars, now you were the one intrigued. you wanted to know more.
“you’re a little rude, huh,” and you abruptly snap from your thoughts. it was so brusque…
returning back to reality, out of that lewd trance you were so desperately trapped in—you blink twice, not even realizing how he was right up close to you. toji stares down at you before sneering. “it’s like three am. shouldn’t you be in bed?”
you shift your feet a bit, maintaining a little distance before trying to reply in the best nonchalant way possible. “uh no,” and then you utter awkwardly. “shouldn’t you be in bed? who randomly wakes up to take showers this late?”
“guys my age,” he jibes. “ya wouldn’t get it.”
you deadpan, fully aware it was a joke but you held everything in you to not have your eyes roll all the way back. “whatever,” and then you nearly forget what you were about to do. he watches you, you open near the lower cabinet and replace the clean towels. it grew profoundly quiet, a pin could drop. the moment you turned around, toji scoffs to himself. “did you need anything? something else?”
“ah. thank you, i’m fine, princess,” toji huffs with a sly grin. he reaches near the small wooden table to grab what seemed to be a half-used lotion bottle. however, you didn’t expect for him to completely change the topic, flipping your own words around with a blunt, “do you need something?”
“huh?”
“you heard me, girl.”
the banter…
he was definitely cocky, playful, literally any other synonym would fit.
you hated how he’d get you speechless everytime. you loathed how he was such an effect on you. with a brief gnaw on your bottom lip you narrow your eyes, mumbling out a, “stupid question.”
“i agree,” toji smirks. “but eh. y’er a smart girl. ‘m sure you can come up with a good comeback soon.”
he was so annoying, entirely so.
it’d be simple interactions like that between the two of you. much to your surprise though, nothing really else happened. toji would tease you a bit then pretend nothing happened, throw you a compliment or two and call it a day.
toji would often visit daily or twice a day, mainly to hang with your father. you could care less about what they did, but you were bored out of your mind from being in the house all day. you could go out, but it’s not like you had anyone to go with. everyone was either busy or … busy. besides, most of your friends were on exotic vacations or out of the country—you sighed, rubbing a hand against your stomach as you stared in the ceiling wall.
but then, the most lasciviously filthy thought made its way into your thoughts. you thickly swallowed before reaching a hand down between your legs. the air grew abnormally dry, shame…
to be completely honest, you couldn’t even remember the last time you touched yourself. this couldn’t have ever been a more perfect time. you were sure your father and his cocky best friend was out at top golf, probably.
intaking a single breath, you lean back against your pillow—slowly, you started to focus on your breathing.
parting your legs, you lightly pull down your shorts before tugging your panties to the side. you wince for a little, realizing how you were already a bit soaked. a little dampened spot right towards the front part of your underwear. you knew it had to be from pondering about toji.
speaking of, you remember that time where he helped—well, ‘attempted’ to cook dinner that one time. all you could focus on was his hands. such rough thick hands, you wondered what’d it feel like to have those same hands gingerly wrap around your throat. such thick fingers shove down your throat while he calls you such degrading names—just anything.
the more you were deep in thought, the more drenched you started to become. you went slow, being patient with yourself. you imagined it was toji’s fingers instead of yours. such big fingers thrusting in and out of you.
steadily, you start to insert a single finger in. a middle finger, it felt good, you suppressed a single moan and by this point, your imagination was running wild. you allowed your body to relax for a few moments before you slipped another finger inside. seconds later, you started to gentle move around inside your clit. your pace was sweet and precise—you let out a soft moan that rang throughout your thin walls. “toji—f-fuckkk.”
your voice was shaky, imagining toji being here right now made you throb ten times more. just propped all up behind you, thrashing his fingers against your swollen folds made you more aroused than you ever thought. your thrusts against your own entrance was small, a steady pace but irregular enough to make your knees start to buckle.
throwing your head back a little, you started to whine as each second dragged. your breath became insignificantly heavy, hitched and all. you made sure to stimulate in all the right areas, adapting to a perfect rhythm, then that’s when you’re rudely interrupted. talk about a cliche.
“hey. is it anymore detergen—”
toji pauses mid sentence, literally trying to process the scenery in front of him. he stands still and his initial reaction was slow. the first thing he does is chortle lowly. “well, shit. is this a bad time?”
you’ve never felt anymore embarrassed in your life, a sudden wave of heat rushed over your body before you quickly shielded yourself with your blanket. “oh my god,” you’d squeak out, and toji averts his eyes elsewhere for a few seconds. “i thought you all left already.”
toji hums. he takes a moment, and it’s as if he’s thinking of what to say. he was amused, seeing your flustered state and he looks back at you. “we were but it got canceled last minute since a storm’s approaching,” and you let off a soft gulp, hearing his footsteps creak against your wooden floor as he got closer. “thank god it was me who came in here ‘n not your father, right princess? now that’d be embarrassing.”
“stop calling me that,” you grumble, and you don’t even realize how soft and weak your voice was. you slowly pull your fingers out before intaking another sharp breath. he glanced at you before simpering. “haven’t you heard of knocking?”
“girl,” toji utters in a low rasp. “the door was wide open. i can’t knock on air,” and you mentally eye rolled — he was so insufferable. incredibly so, toji’s eyes roam across your old room that was a bit scattered with some boxes from when you moved out four years ago. it was a bit unkempt, your father usually used your room sometimes just to store things from the attic. toji buried his hands into his pockets before chuckling. “i heard you, ya know. moaning my name all loud like that.”
you blinked thrice, sitting up before compressing your eyebrows together. “what?”
“whaaat?” he jeers, mocking you. toji inches closer towards you until he was right beside your bedside. you gaze up at him and he had a blunt sticking out from the corner of his lips. he looked so appetizing, even while dressed down. ripped jeans and a sweatshirt. you could tell he was fit, of course he was—you saw him shirtless. he was well likely in his early thirties, dressing so laid back and casual. “between you and me, sweetheart, you can do better. ‘s cute ‘n all but that’s not how ya finger yourself. been a while, yeah?”
this guy, he was so bold. casually speaking his dirty mind, not afraid to say anything.
you don’t know why, but those last few words made you throb. you loathed how right he was, it was as if he could read you like a book. between studies and actually living a university student’s life, you barely ever get time to yourself. time to please yourself.
“whatever,” you utter. “yeah... it’s been a while.”
“poor thing,” he clicks his tongue before taking a seat on your bed. it jitters from his weight for a bit before he peers a gaze at you. “hm,” he puffs out, dragging a hand against his jeans. “i’d be happy to help though. those useless fingers of yours can only please you so much, right? heh.”
this indescribable effect he had on you, it heavily irked your nerves. “…please,” and you don’t even register what quickly came out of your mouth.
you were so pent up by this point, being interrupted. you wanted to finish, you desperately wanted to finish. your soft breaths hitched, and toji’s intimate stare lingered on you for a bit. his loud cologne started to waft across the entire room, so intoxicating. “just make me finish, please.”
“there’s those manners,” he coos in a husky tone, and he gets up closer. he was purely teasing you, you just wanted to feel his touch . . . feel something at least. he pulls the fat cover that went over you, yet at a more tantalizingly slow pace. he was a mere tease, you nearly let off a whine once you felt the tips of his warm fingers skim past your thighs. “messy girl,” he mumbles, and then he pauses to glance at you. “are you sure? jus’ wanna-”
“toji,” you mutter, and you liked hearing you roll his name so sweetly off your tongue. seeing you grow purely frustrated was utter amusement to him. the way your eyebrows would curl and furrow, irises flaring and your jaw slightly tensing. you had such readable body language by default too. “please. i want you. just touch me.”
he simpers. “pretty please.”
“……”
again, he was so infuriating. you felt yourself starting to pant, not knowing how much longer you could take as he started to softly trail a thumb against your skin. his touch was so warm, it was intense and ignited something within you.
“touch me—pretty please, toji.” you mutter out, sprawling your legs out just a bit. it was so hot, the temperature surrounding the atmosphere of the room was so humid. he glances at you before smiling.
“that’s a good girl.”
his words warmed your heart in such a lewd provocative way, you just wanted his touch.
desperately yearning for it, toji leans up close, bringing a big hand to part your legs apart and he was so slow. he takes the blunt that was propped up between his teeth, setting it aside near your nightstand. you prepare to inhale deeply, not expecting him to then bring a tender kiss towards your inner thighs. he started to create a trail—a trail that gingerly went up and up and up.
“so sensitive,” he’d purr, watching your own body melt from just the softness of his lips against your skin. you wanted him to hurry, you replayed this exact scenario over and over at least a dozen times. now that it was reality, you just knew that your body wanted him. “oh. don’t give me that look,” and he smirks, watching the pout grow against your lips. “gonna stare at me all day or are ya gonna tell me how you’d like for me to start?”
“i need you to—eat me out,” you huff out in short singular breaths. you were throbbing rapidly, each moment he stalled to speak, the more aroused you grew. his warm breath just fanning against your folds had you nearly going weak.
he snickers. “need?” he repeats, and you moan once he swiftly drags a finger down your soaked cunt. it was drenched, but it could be a bit more. toji hums to himself cockily. “you don’t need shit, girl. fix your sentence ‘n talk proper..”
“i—” you gripe, starting to grow more and more frustrated. your vexed facial expression amused him. he raises his darkened brows, awaiting for your answer and the cute pout that continued to stretch across your lips was so cute. “i— i want you to eat me out, pretty please.”
“much better,” he says in a low gruff. the moment he finally hovers his mouth over your sopping clit, toji gently strokes a thumb up and down. opening you up slowly, he creates a single slow lick to make you whimper. “i’ll make ya cum quicker than you ever could, princess.”
and you knew he probably wouldn’t lie about a simple fact like that. toji’s touch, it was sloppy.
without a doubt, he was a messy eater.
just one taste of you and he was hooked—a new addiction for him and it wasn’t gambling.
you tasted sweet, candied even. he was in so deep, occasionally the tip of his nose would prod against your entrance. you slumped back against the bed, your legs twitching in pleasure. not before long, your lips started to part and you started to gnaw on your hardened knuckles. you didn’t wanna be too loud—you just remembered your father was right downstairs.
he didn’t have the best hearing in the world, but knowing you, you could be a bit overzealous with your moans.
the noises his tongue made, sliding his tongue between your folds, sucking and nibbling. he even broke away his lips just to spit a nice wad onto your pussy. you watched the entire time, mesmerized. he was so nasty—nasty and you only wanted more. toji continued to drag a thumb against your slit, lapping up your slick arousal that was already starting to drip down his chin. it ran further down, a bit of his trimmed facial hair now soaked with your sweetness.
“how’s it feel, princess,” he’d mutter out, briefly departing his lips away. as he does—you stare as a pretty cobweb of his own spit tugs against your own entrance. glistening and all, it was so sheeny. he was right between your precious thighs, and you couldn’t help but give his ruffled dark hair a light pull. “tell me how i make you feel. talk to me nice, girl.”
“good,” you whimper, nearly choking on your own saliva. your words were so trembly, you could hardly recognize yourself. it’s been a while since you’ve been eaten out, let alone being intimate. as you continued to let off irregular breathing patterns, you swallow. “f-feels good.”
“just good?” he’d tease, bringing a long suck towards your clit. you let off a whine once he playfully nibbles near that particular spot with his teeth. his tongue scrapes against your folds time and time again. it’s indescribable—toji’s head shook back and forth as he was nose deep into your pussy. for a moment, he sounds offended.
toji gives your cunt a sweet little kiss, and he feels it start to hastily pulse from doing so.
he knew you were getting close, all from a simple cue from his tongue. speaking of toji’s tongue . . it was lengthy.
so long, it reached areas that had your eyes mindlessly rolling back.
cute little cacophonies of, “oh my g-godddd,” repeated ghosts past your lips as you started to practically drag his face against you. the texture of his tongue—so moist and slick, already wet from obvious reasons, but grew even more dampened from your sheer arousal. it was a taste his tastebuds grew to crave more of. “gonna c-cum toji. f-fuckkk.”
“you’re gonna wait for me, little girl,” he grouses, and your irises fleetingly dilate. he gifts the entrance of your cunt with another string of spit, then he rubs a few circles against it. mean vigorous circles that made your legs pathetically twitch. “you make a mess when i tell you too.”
he was so mean.
such sternness in his tone, yet it turned you on. that slight secretive rasp that hid underneath his voice. toji breaks his lips away for a moment, glaring at you before focusing near the crevices of your thighs. he teasingly slides his tongue upward, away from your most sensitive area just to watch you squirm.
“toji,” you’d whimper, feeling his tongue just roam everywhere from below. he was so skilled, you’ve never had a man be so sloppy. at least in a way that toji was. he greedily sucks near your thighs, gently sinking his canines into the plush of your thighs before going back towards your pussy. “i can’t—can’t hold..”
you were barely able to finish your sentence, and that’s when you came — it was so sudden and abrupt. gushing all out of you and your nerves had your mind spiraling. a constant crazed loop.
it felt like a wave, a tsunami crashing down and it felt so good.
your orgasm that shortly followed was so loud, you didn’t even bother trying to cover your mouth. toji chuckles, cupping his mouth around the very top part of your achey slit before lapping his tongue against your hood. your hips temporarily quavered due to his tongue, and you still maintained a rough grip on his head.
“easy on the fuckin’ hair,” he’d grunt after feeling you roughly yank on his strands bringing a kiss towards your slick entrance. you swallowed, your legs feeling practically mush before he brings a terse spank towards your clit. “cute ‘n all, but i didn’t say you could finish yet.”
“s-sorry,” you’d breathe out, still feeling the after effects of your intense high. it was so good, your eyes were all hooded and droopy. toji saw a bit of drool seeping from the corners of your mouth and hums silently.
he sighs, leaning up before getting on top of you. he hovers himself and you stare up at him. he rests both arms over you, groping near the rickety headrest before leaning up close to your face.
“are you sorry, sweetheart?” and he gets up a bit closer, green viridescent eyes glance right into you—you smelled the mint and brief tang of alcohol residing on his tongue. using another hand to grab your chin, he softly pulls your bottom lip down before derisively grinning. “aw. nothing to say? no back talk this time?”
“i… want a kiss,” you pant, feeling his warm body just inches away from colliding against yours. just a single inch and he’d be grinding on you. “kiss me.”
“oh i dunno. sounds like a demand, babygirl,” he’d sneer, and your eyes leer near his scar. it was damp a little from him just being between your thighs a moment ago. perhaps it was a bit filthy, but you wanted to taste it. taste him. “ask me the right way.”
you pout, staring right into his eyes. “i wan— can i get a kiss, pretty please. i just want a kiss.”
“course ya can,” he utters, and that’s right when he squeezes your chin. your lips were plump and glossy. toji stares at you back for a long while, studying your cute expressions before he leans right in. the kiss was passionate, it felt so wrong but felt so right. you moaned the second his lips crashed onto yours. he finds it cute, feeling your arms rub and feel around his slim waist. you were pulling him closer — a sign that you wanted more of him. toji teasingly grinds his hefty body against you, and you whimper in his mouth once you feel his thick bulge prod against your panties that were halfway on you. “mhm.” he’d groan.
while his tongue skims against yours, you part your lips a bit for him and the incoming savory taste you’d get a treat out of.
you made sure to savor it, so sweet with a bit of spice.
running your tongue against his, breaking away to lick near his chin, softly making sure to lick near his stubble—you cleaned your own mess off of him. without him asking you either, toji grunts as he watched you through his peripherals. he’d never expect his best friend to have such a nasty girl for a daughter.
“y’er fuckin’ filthy,” he mumbles, breaking away and watching both strands of spit leave and depart. your lips curv into a cute needy scowl before he heard your father suddenly call out from downstairs.
“honey? i said, was that a scream…? is everything okay?”
your eyes widen, not even knowing your father was speaking—yelling actually. toji snickers, and now he’s the one suddenly quiet. prick.
“o-oh um,” you clear your throat, sitting up and that’s when toji starts to create soft chaste kisses near the inside of your neck. you nearly moaned before turning your head to speak. “i’m—i’m fine. i thought i saw a cockroach.”
“cockroach? do you need me to come up and—”
“no!” you’d quickly reply before clearing your throat once more. you let off a sigh, feeling toji start to suck near your collarbone. “i mean, no dad. i’m okay. thanks anyways.”
“okay honey, if you say so.”
toji chortles. “fuck. you’re bad at lying. just tell y’er old man you were getting eaten out by me.”
you glare at him, immensely bringing your brows into a furrow. “no, i’m not gonna say that. are you crazy?”
“maybe.”
you eye rolled, yet part of you felt like he wasn’t exactly lying. after all, he could probably be insane—perhaps he was.
you didn’t know, and to be frank, you didn’t really care. all you really cared about was getting pleasured—riding out orgasm after orgasm with him, and that’s exactly what you ended up doing for hours on end.
toji would find himself leaned back against your pillow, studying your hips carefully before grinning.
the moment you lightly shove him back, he clicks his tongue. “oh?” he says, and you already sprung his dick out. he was very much hard, presenting you with an upward slight curve. you licked your lips, hovering over him before giving him a few strokes. a groan slips past his lips and your thumb brushes against the various veins that ran just below his foreskin. “y’er gonna ride me? can a sweet girl like you even handle it?”
“shut up,” you’d fuss, and he just smirks at you. you wanted to wipe that smug expression from his face. he knew just how to irritate your nerves. toji watches you throw your leg over him, a simple hook around. you’re straddling him now and he brings two rough hands to attach near your hips. you lean in to kiss him again and he returns it, slowly tilting his head back and your arms wrap around him. he feels you reach down, grabbing ahold of his shaft before softly sliding the head of his dick near your slick entrance. “s-shit. you’re big.”
“i try not to disappoint,” he slyly says, sliding a thumb near your hips. his voice was so low, so pompous and arrogant. you give him a glare but he only hums out of pure amusement. “barely the tip in ‘n y’er struggling. need my help, sweetheart?”
you ignored him and he smirks, allowing you to do your thing—you bring one hand towards his chest, gently feeling near his perfectly chiseled abs. he was so toned, tracing against his tense muscles and he watches your every move. it was as if time was stood still, he chuckles at how eager you were. you weren’t like him, you weren’t patient and thorough. you were a bit more rushed and sloppy—cute, it was very much cute to him though.
a moan goes past your lips once the wet tip of his slowly starts to sink inside. it had a few droplets of pre-cum leaking down, and you slowly rocked your hips in place to get comfortable. his eyes go lower to focus more on your body, the grip he had on your waist was so rough and sensual. because toji was so thick — it took you a good six minutes, six precise minutes to reach all the way down to the base. your lips opened a bit, and you let off a soft shrilling whimper once you did a cute attempt at jerking forward.
“take it slow,” he purrs in such a rasp, you leisurely started to lurch back and forth once he was buried all the way down to the hilt. you inhale deeply and he was so hefty. balls deep, swollen balls that was hidden and engulfed beneath your inner walls. “atta girl.” he praises, watching you try to maintain a decent rhythm.
ringing went throughout your ears, you felt all hot.
toji playfully brings a hand to feel near your tummy. you were wearing some old university hoodie. it was comfortable, but much to his surprise, you didn’t have a bra underneath. he hums to himself, and you let off a moan once his hand trails ever further. further and further until his thumb brushes against your perky nipples.
“t— toji,” you’d moan, and another hand of his was tightly clinging onto the left part of your waist. you were riding him smoothly. yet since he was so big, you started to feel your thighs building up with drowsiness. your efforts were cute to him, so desperately eager to get off.
his black lashes flicker, and the way he’s all leaned back and manspread was so attractive—you felt your back start to naturally arch and it didn’t take long for toji to reach that particular spot. once you felt his tip prod against there—way past inside the orifices of your cunt, you let off a sweetened whimper. “found it,” he whispers, bringing you close towards his chest. you lean into his touch, intaking his cologne into your nose before your hand starts to wander all over his body. he liked how handsy you were, slipping a hand right underneath his shirt to feel a part of his abs. you made sure to trace directly on each line, each tender flexing muscle. all the way down onto his sharp v-line. further down, you started to feel his happy trail. your favorite.
he grunts, feeling the softness of your hands meander freely. “that’s it, sweetheart,” he gruffs in a sharp breath. an imaginary lump getting caught in his throat — he was holding both of your hips upright and by this point you were slamming right onto his thick cock. “touch me more. feel all over me baby.”
“can i—” you started, leaning in to kiss near the crook of his neck. your voice was soft, a bit trembly before your hands went up this time. feeling near his pecs before a breath gets caught in his throat. “can i feel here, toji?”
“f-fuckin’ girl,” he groans, a chill running down his spine the second he feels you gently rubbing a thumb against his nipples this time. toji was surprisingly far more sensitive despite his rough front he was putting up, it was a bit cute. after all, he did say feel all over you. toji was panting now, while you rode him continuously, he swiped a few beads of sweat from his forehead. “whatever.”
you giggle, watching him now be the one with a pouty expression this time. you plant a kiss near where his slanted scar went down his lip before he spanks your ass. “just ‘cause ‘m sensitive there doesn’t mean ‘m gonna get all whiney for you, girl,” he utters in a raspy tone. the sharp sting from the spank felt good.
you felt yourself twitch between your thighs whilst your hips moved in harmony. you do a little back bend with your hips, constantly jerking against him and he grunts with how slow yet sloppy your movements were. “keep goin’ slow like that. ‘m gonna—cum.”
his voice consistently got deeper, and the tips of his fingers gently pierced into your skin—you were vocal yourself though. moan after moan, a constant repeat. you found yourself whining out his name as if it was a lewd mantra. over and over again, to toji though, it was purely music to his ears.
he feels you start to slow down a bit though, exactly at the minute he tells you he was approaching his incoming release. toji clenched his jaw, gifting the fat of your ass with another mean spank. “f-fuck. keep fuckin’ me. make me fuckin’ cum.”
you plant kisses near his neck this time, near the very inside and you swiftly quicken your pace a little. he was stuffing you full of thick inches, full of such girth that had your tongue salivating right in your mouth. you could only imagine what it’d feel like to have his seed pouring into you. you couldn’t lie to yourself, ever since you saw toji shirtless. his bulge sticking out through his towel, you only imagined he’d be so full of cum to give. you tilt your hips backwards, and he lets off a husky groan.
that particular spot reached so deep, you felt it too. his cockhead pokes and taps repeatedly against your sweet spot and you sob out a needy, “f-fuck, ‘s right there,” you tilt forward and he’s just about reaching his peak. the longer you took, the more spanks you received.
toji was a patient man, but only for so long.
the bed frame creaked constantly, it was the only tune that played in the background. he slithers a hand down between your thighs and spanks your cunt a few times. you whimpered, already a bit sensitive but felt something else approaching. “toji— toji.”
toji groans, the build up nearly taking his breath away. with your rhythmic thrusts against him, his eyes merely roll and he has to take a minute to catch his breath. you wrap a hand around his throat—tenderly of course—then place your lips onto his once he finally finishes inside of you.
he didn’t expect for you to choke him, but he liked it.
he liked how forward you were, your thumb lightly grazed against his adam’s apple, and a deep grunt gets trapped in his throat. your cunt was practically overflowed with such dumps of his cum—you’ve never felt more filled. toji shook a little, a hand gripping your ass as you kissed him.
slowly, he started to feel himself get addicted.
he already was addicted from having a simple taste of you earlier, but he was getting infatuated. you had him whipped, and he knew this probably wouldn’t be a one time thing.
albeit, the last thing you expect is to pull away from the kiss once you feel a sudden pressure brewing up within you.
momentarily, you whine—feeling a sudden familiar wetness coat his base. nerves all throughout your body had you locked in a trance, and you pause your hips before toji tsks.
“little girl,” he mumbles with a sly smile. “did you just squirt on me?”
it was so unexpected, you pant heavily—heave after heave leaving your lips before you moan out a sweet, “y-yes.”
“don’t be shy about it. i like when it’s messy,” he sneers, his eyes tantalizingly trailing down your body once more before he lifts you up just a bit from his shaft. he observes the lewd mess, how much cum trickled past your thighs and he hums. “wanna do that again? i bet i can do it in five minutes, baby.”
to say you were being treated like a rag doll was an understatement.
toji was ruthless with you, ruthless with you in your own house. well, ex-house. you didn’t live here anymore but you used to.
he coaxed orgasm after orgasm out of you like it was nothing. making you imitate and try positions you’ve never even heard of—you were getting stretched, easily said. it’s been hours by this point, you weren’t even in your room anymore. you were in the bathroom with him.
toji had you propped up against the door, you’re taking him from behind and you’re roughly biting down on your lip.
entirely so, it was still risky.
your father was right outside near the living room doing who knows what. probably watching some sports program—yet of course, he started to grow curious of where his best pal went. initially, toji said he had to use the restroom.
like four hours ago . .
he was so mean too, spanking your ass numerous times. your ass was perked upright for him, and you’re leaning against the door. you whimpered, feeling him grip on your panties that he refused to pull off of you.
oh, he likes seeing it dangle and thwack against your skin. the pretty fabric just cutely rubbing against your thighs. his weight just barely hovers against you and he’s smacking right into you.
your cunt swallowed his hefty inches each and every time—by this point, you weren’t sure if you could even give him one more.
you lost count of how many mind blowing orgasms that you were just completely intoxicated from his dick and his dick alone.
toji’s rough bare hands grab onto both parts of your ass, spreading it before deepening his strokes just a bit. you moaned, feeling every inch store inside of your sweet cunt. he knew just where to hit you. you breathe through your mouth and your nose at the same time, heavy cute pants that started to fog up the door’s material.
“fuck, fuck me f-fuckkk,” you’d drag out, and your back naturally arches just from a teasing touch of his finger racing down your back.
your ass was held up high and your cheek was softly nudging against the cold door. another build up was approaching and you were just so in awe—you were literally thinking, where has he been all your life? “close, ‘m getting closer.”
“bet you are. drippin’ all on me ‘n it’s fuckin’ nasty,” he replies—yet you freeze once you hear footsteps approach the door. it was your father, right when you were about to cum—you feel toji’s hand wrap around your mouth. your eyes roll backwards, and then he speaks through the other end of the door.
“toji? hehe, did ya fall in there man? you’re missing the game. we’re down by four points.”
toji chuckles, hearing a tiny muffled squeak go past your lips. he was balls deep, giving you such thick vigorous inches. that’s when he leans right up close to you—a hand still propped to have your mouth shut before whispering in a raspy tone. “you gotta be quiet, sweetheart. you want y’er old man to hear you make a sloppy mess on me?”
you shake your head, making an attempt to try and suck on his fingers and be smiles. “messy baby.”
your mouth was now stuffed with nothing but his thick fingers. you moaned, coating each digit with your glistening saliva as he pounded right into you. the grip your cunt had on him made him groan. eyes roll into the depths of your cranium so far back that your vision was pure black. squelch after squelch, it was so erotic. the build up of your incoming release yet again.
it was so slow and tense, you felt your thighs ache and tremble the more you were arched all over for him. the most sluttiest arch he’s seen in a while.
“huh—oh, nah man i’m good,” toji replies with a simper. you were trying so hard to be quiet, if your father heard anything, that’d be a wrap for you.
dying out of pure embarrassment certainly wasn’t on your bucket list for sure. the way toji responded was so casual, almost as if he wasn’t just happily drilling into his best friend’s cunt in his own home. “four points? shit. defense can’t do anything right.”
“telllll me about it! i could play better with my eyes clothes, damn.”
you found it so irksome how they were casually having a dumb conversation whilst you were just about to gush right into toji’s shaft—you felt him dip his hips into you deeper though, and you let off a sweet whine.
toji leans into your ear and whispers. “you’re doing a good job, sweetheart,” and then he chuckles. removing his hand—you nearly let off the most loudest orgasm imaginable, but you kept it together by biting your tongue. it was a cute squeal, and as your legs parted you made such a mess.
again…
it was probably the umpteenth time.
while you ride out your release, he’s slowing down his strokes and stares at the excess cum filling up your entrance. toji licks his lips, dragging a thumb to plug it all back in once he pulls out. he didn’t like putting things to waste. you whimper, feeling so taken aback from how stuffed full you were.
it was an awkward silence, you felt a sharp scare in your stomach once you thought your father heard everything — but thankfully so, he plopped right back down on the couch. toji lets you take a moment to calm down, and then he brings a wet kiss towards your lips. you were so sensitive, trembling within his hold—you didn’t want him to leave now.
“atta girl,” he purrs, that same sly smile pressing against his lips as he brings a thumb towards your lip. his gaze was so hypnotizing. such pools of green eyes look like it had a story to tell, and perhaps you wanted to know who toji fushiguro really was.
maybe that story is ready for another day though.
thankfully you didn’t get caught.
or did you—you had to leave out the bathroom first, then toji after about a lengthy minute time difference so it wouldn’t be remotely suspicious. once the both of you were out, after about an hour of you all crammed up and watching the boring never ending basketball game, your dad ends up going to the bathroom.
while he was occupied, you leaned against toji and he wraps an arm around you. he could tell you wanted more—but his gaze was stern, telling you with his eyes to basically be a good girl and be patient.
a few seconds past before you father bellows out a pitched. “erm. toji? is this shampoo—? what’s this white stuff over the sink? doesn’t look like shampoo.”
the both of you share the same frozen expression, impish smiles fading before you nudge toji to speak after long seconds pass.
“huh? oh, that’s uh mayonnaise. i forgot to clean up after myself.”
“aren’t you allergic to mayonnaise?”
you mentally facepalmed, watching toji break into a sheepish sweat before he gruffs out a low, “i guess not that brand of mayonnaise.”
“right. riiiight,” your father mutters, and you heard sudden shifting. it was abrupt, and you felt something fall — probably a brush from the familiar after sound, you then hear your dad add a follow up question. “wait a minute,” and he glances down near the floor. “are these panties?”
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eternityofend · 3 days
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BOOTHILL HEADCANONS
> Reminder that this is not canon/accurate to his personality
+ contains nsfw (Is labeled)
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( Art credit: @ Luvmybabygirl0 )
SFW
I'd like to imagine, that this man just does a hair flip every time he's offended at what you said.
Ex.
"My Love, I know you're jealous but it's just a cat.."
Boothill looks at you for five solid seconds, and then hair flips to let you know he's really offended. "Tell the cat to move then, that's my place."
Does not skip leg day, would probably kabedon you using his LEG or if he does work out he'd probably want to use you as weight, like letting you sit on him while he does push-ups.
Loves going on little trips with you using horses, if you don't have your own horse he'd definitely let you ride his horse but you're in front of him.
Bonus points if you're shorter than him cause he'd put his chin on top of your head while his hands go around your waist to grab the rein.
Would flex to everyone about you, like- he's in a fight with someone? "You weak cutie(bitch), my lover hits harder than you."
Would call you petnames like "Sugar", "Honey", "Darling" , "Babe/Baby" , "Sweetheart" , "Love" , "Love bug" , "Sunshine" , "Pretty (boy/girl/thing)"
Listens to Lady Gaga, I'm sure of this, he would so rock it out on the dance floor and get you to dance with him.
Has eaten a bullet in front of you and was incredibly confused at your reaction that was just like 😰, until you tell him that you were surprised he ate a bullet he'd just be like 🤨 but if you did tell him straight away, he'd cackle at you.
Sometimes forgets he was originally a human so he does the craziest things knowing he can get fixed up anyway (he once jumped off a 13 foot building to chase after an enemy)
Loves to cuddle you, he wants to feel your warmth while he sleeps or relaxes.
Lets you braid his hair or comb it if you want to, once he gets used to you combing or braiding his hair he'd just walk up to you at random times with a brush in hand and let you do what you want with his hair.
Really reckless and causes a lot of trouble sometimes but there are days where he's really calm and all he wants to do is spend time with you, like he just acts like a cute little kitten who just woke up when he's calm.
If JoJo existed in their world, he would be a big fan of it.
Would let you name his gun or horse, does not complain at all even if you name it "princess twilight sparkle cookie crumble" he'd just laugh, completely accepting the name.
Even says the name during fights, he'd say "Your time's out, time to die by my princess twilight sparkle cookie crumble." 😭😭
Looks at his reflection in the mirror a lot while practicing poses, even getting you to watch from the bed or couch while showing you a new pose he likes.
Kisses you a lot, even in public he's really affectionate and touchy, cause no way is he letting other people look at you and think you're single.
You're hot and he knows you're hot so he's trying his best to make everyone know you're already taken.
If someone TRIES to flirt with you in front of him, he's already got you by the waist, against the wall, making out while he flips off the one who tried to flirt with you.
Would let you pick his earrings, always excited when you say you bought a new earring for him.
Looks good in an apron, like, really good. Househusband material frfr.
Plays with your hair a lot, twirling it, and even kissing some strands while he looks at you in the eye.
Easy to get flustered but it always leads to him making you more flustered, he takes everything like a challenge but he does love it every time you sass him back or flirt with him.
Causes a lot of trouble for you and with you, if its for you it's going to be super romantic however it'll some people irritated, but if he's causing trouble with you, its more chaotic and a LOT of people will 100% get pissed.
Cannot sleep without you in his arms, he'll walk over to your room (if you guys aren't sharing one), hair all messy from tossing and turning because you weren't in bed with him. He'll just plop into your bed, it doesn't matter if you're even awake or not he just wants to hold you while he sleeps.
NSFW
Definitely takes off his hat and puts it on you BUT only when he's letting you ride, if you're having normal sex he'd probably just keep it on or let you bite on it while he fucks you from behind.
Probably says something weird during sex which I would love to imagine would just be "Yeehaw" because he can't curse.
Probably into roleplay where you're a criminal and he's a cowboy who successfully hunted you down or the opposite, has a bunch of handcuffs just to use it for roleplay.
I feel like he'd just be the type of person to use sex toys, not dildos though cause he wants to be the only dick inside you, something like collars, leashes, handcuffs, whips, ropes,
He'd be into gags, bondage, dirty talk, lactation, blindfold sex, spit, both praise and degrading kink, spanking, anal, lap-dances, fingering (he'd be conflicted about receiving), oral (receiving and giving), sensory deprivation, and gun play!
If he doesn't have a dick, he'll probably have a bunch of straps, he's good at giving oral but would still prefer fucking you with a dick than fingering or eating you out. (Unless he's the one getting fucked)
I feel like he's a switch but more on the dominant side, he's super open to submission as long as his partner can pleasure him real good.
This man walks around technically naked all the time, so he's got to have imagined having public sex here and there, but most likely in bars where everyone's busy and doing their own thing. Like it'd turn him on if you were just on his lap humping his erection while you both are in a bar but everyone else is just too drunk to notice at all.
Super vocal, grunting, moaning, sometimes even whining and whimpering, you got it all, bonus points because he does it all straight into your ear.
Uses his sharp teeth to mark you all over your body and then sucks on it to leave hickeys, would likely be a little menace and leave his marks somewhere visible even if you're wearing clothes so people would know your his
Wants you to pull on his hair while fucking, he wants to be able to know how good he's making you feel and hair pulling would be his goal to make sure you're getting actual pleasure.
When he kisses you or makes out with you, it'd always involve tongue, has a little hand that sneaks over to your waist stopping at your hip or your ass.
Slaps your ass loud, especially in public, he just smacks it while you're in mid-conversation and the sound just ECHOES, it doesn't hurt it just sounds like it does, he just stands there smirking while you stare at him.
He's an ass guy, boobs are nice to him cause he can suck on the nipples but definitely an ass guy, you cannot tell me he doesn't fuck you from behind solely to see your ass jiggle with every thrust he does.
Flat? Nuh uh, he's making that shit bounce no matter what.
Likes playing with you using his gun, frequently flicks the handle of his gun over your nipples or dick/pussy, sometimes he shoves a little bit of his gun in and if you get your cum on the muzzle, he'd lick it right in front of you.
Likes praising you and getting degraded, is into getting whipped too, he secretly wants to be on his knees begging for you, worshipping you, while you're standing over him with a whip in your hands. (The whip doesn't actually do any damage)
Does not care what gender you are, sometimes he'd misgender you on purpose and call your ass a pussy or if you're a girl, he'd probably call you "pretty boy" just to get you riled up.
His favorite positions when bottoming would be cowgirl, and his favorite position if he's on top would be Doggystyle.
(Edit: I just realized how much of a power bottom he is, but it's up to you, the reader whether you want to fuck him or be fucked by him 😇)
Please do remember everything is just a headcanon and is not actually linked or accurate to what Boothill's like in canon.
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( Art credit
1st: Kradebii on Danbooru
2nd: Tei (@2hwe1) on twt
3rd: 2월14일 (Valentine_DD_) on twt )
Please tell me if I got the artists wrong!
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yaymiyas · 3 days
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THE TALK
warning: yandere!isekai!crown prince, he is very mean in this, female reader
a/n: this is TECHNICALLY not a part two to the introduction but it sort of is….. it jumps from the conversation to the breakfast……..enjoy! ALSO ALSO ALSOOOOOOOO technically its female reader bc you got reincarnated blah blah
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looking at the fragments of bacon he didnt want to eat, he let his fingers drum against the edge of the white plate. the fact that you, the daughter of a whore, lover to none, and nuisance to all, was right beside him made his food hard to swallow. the two of you sat in the dining room, and while he sat at the very end of the table with his back facing the door to the kitchen, your usual spot would be that of the opposite side. right across from him, back facing the entering door, but it seems after the poison didn’t hit quite deep enough in your veins, it did affect your brain because, for some reason, you thought it was brilliant to sit directly next to him. you weren’t as talkative as he would have thought of you, ever since you have learned of the activities he had decided to partake in, you started to demand his attention. at first, it didnt bother him much, since he himself started to believe that he was focusing solely on gracie that your suspicions were bound to grow, and grow they did.
for weeks, months, up until the poisoning you were all up on him. he was certain that you were attempting to skin him alive and wear him as a coat it was all mildly unpleasant but more irritating. saer never had a taste for you; rather, he actually hated you. to no one’s fault but his own fathers, he was forced to marry you out of pregnant promises. your father, sir tudor, wasn’t the poorest dope saer’s father has ever seen, but he was the loyalist. he worked on the gwynn estate, doing a multitude of things for the family, automatically gaining the trust of the duke and then the king himself. at the time, king gwynn was more fascinated with how a man with such little knowledge could become his most loyalist man, but that he did. following the pregnancy of both the queen and your mother, he decided that the best course of action was to marry his second unborn son off to the unborn daughter of a freeloader.
an icy shiver runs down saer’s back, forcing him to shake his shoulders and head. looking up from your half eaten plate, raising your head to the sudden movement. he was quiet the whole time, poking at the small slivers of bacon like they were the nastiest things on earth. you werent surprised that he wasnt talking; no, you were actually relieved. it wasn’t because he wasnt attractive or anything, he certainly does look like the main lead; its just the talk you had prior to the breakfast that was replaying in your head. cynthia and amanda didn’t give you much information, since, from the looks of it, they didn’t want to say too much. either their heads were on the line or yours were. you never thought about asking tily, even though she was the one that brought you down here. it just felt too weird knowing she was the one who weirdly had something against you. from your fading memories of ‘obsession falls’, you remember reading online forums and tweets about the whole thing. it seemed like the only real crime edina committed throughout the whole book was wanting her husband to love her. she did everything he had asked of her, from the way she talked to her style of clothing, even to what letters she can reply to. in olden standards, she seemed like the perfect obedient wife. this might have been your first mistake, but you didn’t read too much on saer or his backstory, so you never really understood the reasoning for his hatred of his wife, but you knew it was deep and it was boiling.
clearing your throat, you believed it was a better time than ever to clear the air and get to your point. you never understood why edina allowed things to get as deep as they were, but she was made just to be killed. it sucks that no matter what you do or say, saer will always hate you because you are edina.
“saer,”
“ae.”
that stupid nickname. shutting your eyes tightly and fighting back against any light to seep through, you sighed heavily. the whole time, saer had been watching you carefully. even though it was from the corner of his eyes, he was indeed trying to calculate your next moves. it was kind of silly that your sudden change in physical response is making him antsy, but how can anyone fault him? the last time the air-headed cunt decided to change the way she was reacting, gracie was suddenly engaged to alastair and smiling in his face about it. it was enraging. other than the fact that you were in his life to begin with, knowing that the reason he couldn’t slit the throat of his ex best friend was all because you decided to breathe. those two minutes were the longest two minutes of his life. he watched as your head dropped down on the table, making a very sudden and loud noise with it. saer had sternly told any and all servants to leave the two of you be if any loud, disruptive noises were heard. he even double checked that he sent your nosey maids, cynthia and amanda, home around that time. he knew that if they were present in the building, you weren’t going to eat that poison.
it was infuriating to watch them care about someone as lowly as you. not just them, anyone. reading gracie’s letters, asking how you’ve been and to see you before she even utters a word about him, was beyond hurtful. it felt as if his whole world was falling apart, all because you decided to have superpowers and not die. this was the only way to get back at you. he has tried strangling you. he has tried slaying you. each attempt was caught by either maid, cynthia, or amanda. it made him sick to see you get dotted on. seeing the frilly outfits they were making you wear, as if you were a porcelain doll not worth anybody’s touch. you were disgusting. a disgusting being that deserved to die. so why. why were you here? why were you looking at him like he had done something wrong. 
“enough with the causalities, i would like a divorce saer.”
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august126 · 2 days
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Zhongli: The masseur
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✦ summary: Working a job that basically guaranteed no breaks unless it was an emergency was, understandably, overwhelming. Your body was aching and you were sure your joints would give in any day now. So when Ganyu suggested that you visit a massage parlor nearby, you immediately called to place an appointment.
✦ warnings: Vaginal Fingering,Rough Sex,Aphrodisiacs,Mating Press,Overstimulation, and Blindfolds
✦ notes:Be warned that this fic contains: Dubcon (Possibly noncon), consented touches which eventually turn into dubious consented touching and Thank you all so much,OMG 500 followers !!
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The masseur
     "Agh" Your back was so stiff— the muscle in your back was comparable to stone. After being hunched over your desk and being bombarded with work as a secretary for one of the higher-ranking managers in your company, you couldn’t help but daydream of a vacation and a break from your stressful lifestyle.
Alas, it wasn’t meant to be. The sighs that come from you are uncontrollable. A vacation would have been the greatest opportunity you would receive by the end of the week; however, the prospect of of finishing all work for good sounded a bit more appealing to you.
Another thing to curse about…
As Keqing says, maybe if your other lacking coworkers could actually pick themselves up and do half the work you were doing, life would not be this difficult for you.
A loud ding rings throughout the train, alerting you to the next stop that is quickly incoming. You grip your leather bookbag, lifting it off the seat before fixing up your blouse. You tense suddenly. Another stiff pass causes your body to wince. “... Ow…” It's hard to ignore the tense and electrifying pain in your back but you do your best, absent-mindedly reaching your hand up for the balance rings hanging above you.
Regret quickly shoots through you when you feel your fingertips brush over a soft surface instead of the usual metal. You just touched someone's hand by accident! "My apologies" You quickly look down and lower your hand back down. A light heat spreads through your face. You don’t dare to look at the man’s face but when you do, suddenly the regret doubles in weight.
This man was handsome— tall with lovely amber eyes and auburn silky hair that trailed down to his waist. You felt yourself become dry in the mouth as he chuckled lightly. “It’s no problem miss” His voice was deep and rich, almost vibrating deep in your consciousness.
You couldn't help but smile nervously, you apologize again before you excuse yourself for the exit. Disbelief coursed through you, it was early in the morning and you bumped into someone, how embarrassing! As if the pain in your back wasn't hard enough already, you just had to embarrass yourself and give yourself a different kind of humiliation.
Stopping in front of the train doors, you silently grumbled at yourself for being so inattentive. Maybe you should get yourself another cup of coffee. Just as you made mental notes to keep track of for the rest of the day, from the corner of your eye, you saw that the tall man had walked over to you and stopped right on your side.
Oh. He was leaving at the same stop.
Well, it’s not as if no one else was leaving at this stop. It was merely a coincidence and this small embarrassing bout was going to become a long memory. And yet for some reason or another… you couldn’t shake off your nerves. 
     A satisfied moan escapes you as you stretch your back out onto an arch, popping your spine and your hips. Finally, the work needed was halfway done. You weren’t sure if you’d be able to crunch out the rest of the statistics by the end of the day simply because of your back completely dying on you. But finished work is finished work.
Someone walks up to your desk, a laugh easing from their throat when their eyes gaze upon your pitiful self. “You know, [name], there’s this very popular massage place nearby the office. It’s two buildings down from our usual restaurant place, why don’t you go check it out?” Ganyu asks, pouring herself more cups of coffee while offering you some. That piques your interest. How could you forget those existed? A massage sounded like heaven sent to earth for you at the moment, your aching back was practically keening at the idea of a massage.
You inquired, excited to hear more about the parlor. “Have you tried it yourself Ganyu? How are the prices?” Ganyu presses her hand onto her chin for a bit, her coffee wafting deliciously in the air. She hums, "I distinctly remember that the prices were pretty affordable. At least under 800 mora"
That sounded amazing to you. For the first time in a long while, time quickly passes by during work. As soon as your hours were done you contacted the parlor to place an appointment. The hair on the back of your neck stands tall when you suddenly hear a monotone voice speak from the other side of the phone.
“Hello, this is the Wangsheng spa parlor” Swallowing your nerves, you also apply your service voice when you respond. “Hello good morning. I’m calling to inquire about your available time and available services?”
“We’re available today and the whole week onwards”
It was almost a dream come true to hear such news, you could hardly stop the bubbling excitement from your stomach. The squeal in you is quickly hushed to silence, you can barely keep your excitement to yourself as you inquire further about their services. Everything the receptionist lists after the initial introduction seemed normal, up until they mention something called—
“Special treatment? What’s that?” It caught you by surprise since you’ve never heard anything like it.
It seems like even their workers were having a hard time working with this new service because the receptionist sighs a bit in thought. “It’s.. an experimental sort of service where you are assigned a personal masseuse. They will provide any service that is included in our packages. However, compared to the other services, this package is a little over twice the price of normal packages” That definitely sounds extremely expensive and confusing. What makes this bundle deserving of such a price?
“How long will this package last for?” The receptionist takes a second before they get back to you, seemingly tending to other clients while you’re on the phone. He responds, “This package will last you five days” WHAT? Five days!? You were expecting an answer that rests between an hour and five, not an hour and five days! As you scramble for an answer, you trip over your own words unknowingly, “I-I only have to pay once for the entire service of five days?” 
 “That’s right ma’am” And that immediately solidifies your decision. “I would like to book an appointment”
     The excitement from a few days ago is fully powering your body right now. After all that work and stress, you couldn’t wait to finally lay down and be taken care of. You double-check your bag for your essentials. Wallet, phone, a handkerchief… yeah, that was basically everything. Seeing as you’re about to get special treatment, you refrain from wearing your usual makeup. 
Upon arriving at the building, your first impression is solidified. The parlor from the outside looks very luxurious and yet warm-looking. Well, with those kinds of prices any normal person would assume that the parlor could at least afford to spruce up the place. You shake your head. You’re not here to think about minute details, you were here to get a massage— maybe even a manicure and a facial.
You walk up to the parlor’s door, pushing onto the glass doors and inhaling the lovely aroma of the spa. It seems you weren’t the only person coveting this sort of leisure. You catch sight of many customers presumably waiting for a turn. By many, you meant that six ladies were waiting in the lounge area. Your stomach drops in your gut. Should you have come much earlier than eleven? How long will you be able to keep up your thinning comfort?
Walking up to the receptionist area, you greet the man who seems to have his attention elsewhere. You speak out, “Hello, I’m here for an appointment?”
The receptionist lifted his gaze from his phone, his expression suddenly brightening up as if he recognized you. After exchanging pleasantries and mentioning your appointment time, he pulls out a notebook from the desk drawer. "Right Miss.." He muttered. After opening up a page he slides the notebook over to you. Its pages were filled with printed words with a separate waiver laid on top of the notebook.
"Because this package is still in its experimental stage, we'd like for you to acknowledge that discomfort and unexpected outcomes may possibly occur. By signing this contract you are acknowledging that we are not liable for any pain or extraordinary services you may redeem" You didn't know that this package was so experimental that it needed a contract. But you've already gotten this far— there's no point in backing out now.
Taking the pen that was handed to you, you scribble down your name and your signature, handing back the notebook and the waiver after. The receptionist takes a glance over the notebook before tucking it away. They turn your attention to the hallway next to the receptionist’s desk. "Miss, please follow me"
"Um, am I not supposed to wait for my turn?" You nervously peek out of the corner of your eye and onto the other guests waiting. It seems that the other ladies have been waiting a while but the receptionist waves your concerns away.
"There's no need. The other clients availed a different package" Though it was not completely comforting, there truly is no room for arguments when you don’t entirely understand this whole package system they employed.
You were led to the higher floor of the building. The walls were painted a deep red, almost velvet. It gave the place a curious kind of atmosphere, not to mention the incense smoke wafting that was through the airways. Simply put, the parlor knew how to set the mood properly. The only illumination came from the ambient lighting placed deliberately around.
It takes no longer than a minute before you’re situated in your own private room.
The lighting in the room gave off a warm yellow, dimmed down just enough that you could see the silhouettes of the items in the room: oils were placed neatly on a table by the side, a massage table was placed in the middle of the room, and there was even a soft scent in the air.
The receptionist had told you to change your clothes into a bathrobe before he left. The bathrobe he was referring to was lying on top of the massage table, carefully prepared with a towel next to it. A sense of anticipation settles inside your gut as you sit on the massage table. Changing clothes was easy enough. You folded your shirt and your pants and then placed them on a table nearby right under your purse.
You entertain yourself with your phone for a while, double-checking for messages from your coworkers just in case they need anything from you. And they did, you could already see a couple emails asking what to do for certain tasks. A knock from the door interrupts your work-mode attitude, almost startling you. “Come- Oh oops, I’m decent” You call out as instructed by the receptionist earlier.
The doorknob clicks and it slowly opens. The saliva in your mouth dries out when the same man from the train entered the room. Handsome, tall with amber eyes and auburn silky hair. You notice that his uniform is a different color from the receptionists’. While the receptionist had a red theme this masseur was clad in a familiar brown and gold. You're nervous, even more when he flashes you a smile that could not be properly described as any other thing than elegant.
“Greetings, miss” His familiar voice was as deep as you remembered. Huh no wonder— His voice was befitting on a profession like this one.
You greet him the same, trying not to seem as nervous as you truly were. The chances of you seeing the man from train again on the same week was slim to none. You're quite lucky, aren't you? You couldn’t believe that the masseur you had for the day was the same person you had embarrassed yourself in front of. It definitely didn’t make you nervous, not at all haha.
The masseur locks the door behind him close. Now standing parallel to you, he bows his head as a gesture. “My name is Zhongli, I will be your masseur for the entirety of this service”
Zhongli gestures to the massaging table with his hand, smiling courteously. “We will start when you’re ready. Would you like some refreshments before we begin? Tea? Coffee? Tea is a very popular option here in the parlor. Our tea has been personally selected from specific locations for the best quality” He could speak on and on, forever even, and you wouldn't be mad at it. “Then I’d like some tea please” You answer, wanting to ease some of the anxious nerves you had built up. The nervous little smile you wore was hard to miss though Zhongli only nods before excusing himself to grab refreshments.
You curse yourself almost immediately when you are left alone. That man from the train is your masseur!? Could you change masseurs? Is there time enough left for you to back out of the service and run away as quickly as you can?
He comes back in a bit, holding a tray of tea like you requested. “Today we have a special batch of osmanthus tea. This brand is locally produced in the northern town of Qingce, and this batch was specifically bred for a calmer fragrance compared to its usual overpowering counterpart. We hope it is to your satisfaction” The tray is set on the table near your reach. You thank the masseur for his effort.
He moves to the table full of body oil, lighting up an incense stick before setting it aside to burn out. You nervously pick up your cup and inhale the unfamiliar smell emanating from the liquid— it was a different kind of tea compared to what you’re used to but it was not any less pleasant.
The hot tea warmed your tense muscles, settling pleasantly in your stomach. The empty cup is placed back onto the tray and you’re now ready for the service. To say that you were nervous about being naked in front of a man was an understatement, you had no idea that these were going to be the circumstances you were about to be under. However, you understand that complaining about such details went completely against all the prayers you've sent to the archons.
"I'm ready" It comes out really pathetic. It seems you'd only need to bite the bullet and accept it.
Zhongli had already picked up a specific bottle of oil to use. Upon seeing you eagerly gazing at him, he settles a hand on your shoulder, his thumb hooking around the collar of your bathrobe. As if he was confused he asks, “Miss, shall I remove this for you?”
Heat immediately invades every inch of your body. You stammer an answer out of you that is almost indiscernible because of how soft it had come out. The masseur probably heard a ‘no need’ from all of that and he retracted his hand. Hesitantly, you undo the straps you tied around the bathrobe. The collar dips down from your shoulder, exposing your top half.
You then slipped the bathrobe off, carefully folding the thick garment before maneuvering it over your hips. The colder air of the room nips at your exposed skin yet the firm gaze of Zhongli sends harsher pulsing sensations down your entirety.
"Please" Your masseur gestures for you to lay on the table and you obey, your limbs move awkwardly when you lower yourself onto your front, positioning your face to fit into the hole of the table. The floor is all you can see and you can barely hold onto the bathrobe covering your lower half in place.
Relax…
A shiver runs up your spine when you finally feel his fingertips graze your skin. The touch was unexpected and yet all you could focus on was the fact that his fingers were warm. Finally, the massage was about to begin. You attempt to keep yourself preoccupied with other things to focus on, like the fingers running up and down your skin.
This warmth suddenly latches onto the bathrobe over your hips and you seize up. You aren't able to turn your face to look at Zhongli before he abruptly moves. "Oh, it seems you've forgotten to discard these. No matter, I will do it for you"
Before a word could leave your mouth, the open air suddenly caressed the skin of your hips and below. That enough would have made your heart stop, yet Zhongli proved to be unpredictable when the warm touch of his hand started sliding up your hips. Hooking his middle finger along the waistbands of your panties, he slowly drags the piece of clothing down your legs. A gasp is ripped from your throat once you realize what just happened, slightly trembling as the air meets your most intimate area.
"Zh-Zhon—"   "Now this" The man speaks, probably not hearing the pathetic squeaks from your mouth while he turns his attention to the clip of your bra. It doesn't take long before the itchy confines of your chest are pulled away with Zhongli's assistance.
Your mind races in confusion. Was this how all massages went?? You couldn't remember the last time you had a professional massage but.. do you ever remember feeling this exposed before? You remain silent, body slightly trembling and stress increasing.
Relax...
You weren't given the privilege to linger on the thought any longer before you felt the cold traces of oil spill on your back. Arching in surprise, a squeak leaves you when his large palms press into your back, the size almost covering the width of your back completely had they been angled perfectly. “Mmph..!” Air is lightly squeezed out of you when the palms press upward towards your shoulder blades, his thumbs applying more pressure into the crevices of your bones.
“Ah…” The beginning of the massage was surprisingly forceful, the movement easing through your tense muscles as quickly as it could. The area left behind by the oil and the pressure was warm, you could tell that your blood circulation was increasing due to how red-tinted your shoulder was becoming. The strength of the massage was strategically becoming more gentle the longer the massage went on, going easier on spots he understood were too tender.
Zhongli’s hands drift lower to your hips, applying pressure to your hip bones and then back up your spine. This particular area seems to be sensitive— proven by the soft noises that are squeezed out of you with each pass. Noises came out of you in soft hums like whimpers and sighs of satisfaction, you didn't know that your hips were suffering just like your back was. This massage was amazing.
The massage, despite the odd circumstances of the beginning, was already taking great effect on you. The aching spots that have been begging for attention on your back were finally being tended to, your cold arms were massaged with strong but firm hands, and the top of your hips were properly thumbed down. Your spine was still suffering from tingles, but at least it was of the pleasurable kind. You groan embarrassingly loud after one certain press and you pray Zhongli moved on from it.
His palms pressed down into your hips, going lower and lower until he held your ass in each palm. He presses hard against the fat, successfully pushing onto the muscle that ached under it. A grateful sigh escapes you. Zhongli took his time kneading through the skin, doing his best to target certain spots— which took a few minutes.
You were extremely close to dozing off when Zhongli returned his attention to your shoulder blades. The pain also came with pleasure, and with each calculated press of his strength, the uncomfortable knots in your back unwind. Each press of his hands was rewarded with a soft squeak or moan of appreciation from you. Every once in a while you would hiss in pain when a spot was overdone. Zhongli returned the massage back up your back for a while, circling your spine and around your shoulders to avoid overworking the rest.
"[name]?" You could barely hear his voice through the thick fog of your mind. Zhongli was calling out to you during your sleepy daze, barely coherent due to your lacking presence of mind. Thankfully, he still hears a hum from you as a response. "Could you lift up your leg for a moment? We will be working on your calf" You gave him permission to move your leg as he needed but by then you were already slumbering in content.
The massage was almost done and you were finally out cold. The incense stick continues to burn, and it seems its effects are finally taking an effect on you. Zhongli lifts his eyes to your hips, seeing the area between your legs glisten with need. He hums, the incense he prepared was too slow-acting. He made sure to take note of using another kind next time.
Slowly, you awoke from a nap. Everything was heavy. It felt as if your muscles had turned into weights, at the same time it felt soft and tender. And all this was because of the massage.
Wait... the massage! As quickly as you could, with heavy emphasis on could, you lifted yourself from the table and looked around the dim room to look for your masseur. You find that the room is empty and tidied up.
You check your phone and see that you've been asleep for three hours. It surprises you to see that you've been sleeping for as long as you did. Luckily it was still quite a long way before the parlor closed.
For some reason your body was extremely sensitive, your nipples especially so. When you try to put your underwear on, you're mortified when you realize that... the area between your legs is dripping wet. "He didn't see me like this did he..?" You quickly put it on, doing your best to ignore the way the wet cloth clung on. You don't think you could put your bra on, your breasts were simply too sensitive for them to be clinging on for now. Hopefully the fact that you're braless is not evident to other people.
After packing everything you own you leave the room, carefully walking down the stairs to the reception room. You felt so incredibly tired and yet satisfied at the same time, you could already tell that sleep later was about to be heavenly.
The receptionist greets you when you pass by and you quickly return the gesture. Truthfully, you just wanted to get home as quickly as you could and sleep. You weren't in the particular mood to be chatting or exchanging pleasantries. Not to mention, the fact that you were bare breasted under your shirt was making you incredibly conscious.
"Come back tomorrow, miss! You have four days left" The receptionist calls out before you ran out of the building.
...
     The next day couldn't come any slower. When you woke up every inch of your body was basically glowing. The aftermath of the massage and the bath you took right after left you completely relaxed. Muscles relaxed, ass tender, calves soft like mochi, and feet pinching in pain after the knots inside were untied. You open your phone to check the messages your coworkers left the day before that you couldn't tend to immediately.
Right away you see coworkers asking how to handle the tasks— that they were responsible for in the first place— and why there was so much to do. You could already feel the harsh physical memory of stress appearing despite your previous glow. Scrolling past these messages, it seems that Ganyu and Keqing had messaged you after your coworkers had made up a fuss.
'Just ignore any messages from the others, you're on official vacation'
'Enjoy your time [name]! Let's go eat out this week' Their words make you smile. You truly appreciating your friends for looking out for you.
You close your phone after responding to them. To your clueless coworkers, you leave them to suffer the consequences of their incompetence. The time indicates that your next session for a massage is around two hours from now. Was it too soon to be getting another massage? Well, you could always ask for a facial as it is a part of the bundle you availed. And so, you get ready for another day of relaxation.
The receptionist greets you once again when you step into the parlor. You're embarrassed for being so discourteous yesterday but fortunately enough he glosses over it. You approach the desk, smiling comfortably. "Could I ask for a facial today?" The request is written down in a record notebook. "Of course. Will you also be availing another massage session?" Another one? Well, why not right? You did enjoy feeling like putty for a while, you might as well enjoy this while you can. 
"Sure, when will it be beginning?" You ask, removing the sling of your bag from your shoulder to prepare to settle in the waiting room. However, the receptionist points over to the hallway before you can sit down. He's enthusiastic when he says,
"Right now"
You're now back in the same room as the previous appointment with your bag tucked away and your clothes folded to the side. Despite your main request for a facial you were still asked to strip down and wear their bathrobe. The facial itself was done by another person who specialized in the process and now you were simply waiting for your masseur. The facial itself was great, the surface of your skin was as soft as powder.
The wait was a bit daunting— you still couldn't get over who your masseur was, or the fact that he had already seen you naked. Right, you should probably ask why you were meant to be naked instead of semi-clothed, was it a special thing they did? 
A knock jolts you out of your little train of thought. It must be Zhongli so you call him in. The brunette peeks through the door, closing it behind him after you greet him. The dim lights barely illuminate the golden patterns of his uniform. "Good day to you again miss, shall we do the same massage as yesterday or will you try a new kind today?" You weren't aware that there were other kinds of massages. If there were other kinds then it wouldn't hurt to try them. You voice these ideas to Zhongli and he understood.
The masseur walks over to the table full of items, picking through bottles of oil and sticks of incense while you kept yourself occupied with your bathrobe, untying the garment before hesitantly placing it aside. Your breasts immediately react to the air but you pay little attention as you rush to remove the remaining garment around your hips. You hid those items before positioning yourself back on the massage table. The dim lights were probably enough to give you some amount of dignity. The questions in your head are pushed to the side, overwhelmed by the want to relax and be stress-free.
The fewer questions the better, as Ganyu says.
Before long the smell of an incense stick wafts through the air and you relax. Footsteps approach your side and a bottle is placed on a surface next to you. A shiver runs up your spine when the cold contact of the oil meets your skin. It is quickly spread through the entirety of your back, quickly covering the surface area. The massage began as it did before.
A few minutes into it Zhongli had successfully wrung your back out into putty—your body was tingling with satisfaction. It looked as if your mind was quickly following suit. You involuntarily shivered when his palms pressed against a sensitive area on your waist. There was a pause to the massage but there were many reasons to believe that you were too far gone to realize how pathetic your moan had come out. Zhongli slowly circled his thumbs on your waist, hesitating when your moans came out as if you were crying.
"Uhn..!" Followed by a soft gasp.
Zhongli detaches his hands from your back and attempts to wake you. "Miss..?" You groan, barely waking up to the sound of his deep voice. He repeats his request, "Could you please sit up for me?"
Sit up? Like this?
You could barely keep your back straight, barely keep awake in fact, but now you're sitting with your legs crossed on the massage table like you were asked to. The masseur approaches close behind you, bringing his hands up and down your waist whilst thumbing certain areas that leave you groaning. They wander farther up until they rest right under your breasts. You're confused, is this something new like he said earlier? Which method was this?
His palms lay against your peaks, your perked tits pressed right against the middle of his hands. They're so sensitive, each moment of contact was doing alarming things to your body, especially your lower half. Now you're made aware of what's happening down below.
Between your thighs feels like a sloppy mess, sticking to the table and making a mess everywhere. Strikes of pleasurable bolts continue to paralyze your limbs with each pressure your tits endure.
His fingers clench and unclench to massage the fat of your chest, his fingertips running from end to end until they find themselves wrapped around your nipples. "Ahh" You sigh, thighs clenching at the confusing connection your breasts had to your lower nerves. Any time he pinched with light pressure your pussy would hurt a bit too.
Warmth began to moisten up the silken sheets under you but you couldn't say a word as the massage to your tits halted. His hands pulled away. Your consciousness spirals as the scent of the oil, the fumes of the lit incense, and the satisfying massage all went straight to your head.
You felt tranquil, calm, and... bothered. 
You were then instructed to lay back on the bed. This time though, you were supposed to lay on your back. And you did without much thought into it. Zhongli takes a towel from the side, folding the cloth before he lays it over your eyes. It was a bit damp, acting like an eye mask due to the water it was soaked in.
"Here, could you help me raise your knees to your chest? I need to access the back of your thighs properly" Hands shaking, not a question nor doubt passed your mind as you held the back of your knees, pulling them up as per instruction by Zhongli. Your knees were pushed further up onto your chest with the guidance of his hands. The massage kept your body light and soft, it was easy to get to the position comfortably.
Jolts rocked your body as cold oil dripped upon your thighs, quickly warmed by your masseur's palms massaging up and down your thighs. You sigh when the oil begins to warm up from the friction. Pressure pressed upon your soft skin, the man's thumb pinched the fat before lowering his touch down to your ass.
The area down there was glistening under the illumination, anytime Zhongli circled his thumb on your thighs, he was rewarded with an even better sight.
His thumbs press just outside the slit of your pussy, close but not quite close enough to touch your dripping cunt. The sudden contact made you jump again, unexpecting. Your pussy was yearning, begging for something—your breasts were the same, they were already missing the palms that held them earlier.
For some reason or another, the temptation to ask him to massage down there too was barely hanging off your tongue. Though you needn't utter a word as Zhongli's thumb suddenly travels up to your clit, his pads and its pressure sending a bolt of pleasure up your entire body. "!!!" You gasp, suddenly gushing all over Zhongli’s hand due to the light pressure. No protest leaves your panting lips when the finger returns to give your clit attention. The consistent caress of your pussy continues to drive you over the edge.
Your lower half throbs and cramps in pain, almost as if you needed to be massaged there too. The sudden turn of events does not register in your brain, but the need to be satisfied was the only thing you could and wanted to think about.
"Miss, I'll be putting something.. here so that I'll be able to massage you inside, will that be okay?" Zhongli drags his thumb from your clit to your twitching hole, now teasing the entrance with slow passionate pressure.
Mind numb, you mumble something close to a sound of confirmation. Even though you weren't exactly sure what you agreed upon, anything to satiate the growing pains inside you was welcome.
Zhongli detached his hand from your lower half and you whimper, the hold you had on your legs tighten. The sounds of rustling clothes echo through your drumming ears. Some things were being set aside, it sounded like it was made from cloth because of its silent thud. Metal click together. The massage table creaks under a sudden weight.
Finally you feel something press up against your pussy. It was hot, just like the oil whenever Zhongli rubbed it against your skin. When it was pushed up and down against your cunt you could feel hard lines on it, it glided easily against your wet self, almost as if it was oiled up as well. When it snagged against your clit, it sent rushes of pleasure into you, only accentuating the need of your entrance.
The thing is positioned over your hole, its tip evidently pressing against the rim. You could feel Zhongli's thumb return over your clit.
"Haahnmh..!?" The pressure is slow and slightly painful as it pushes into you. You're confused, afraid almost, but you're too tired and drowsy to ask any questions. Something pops inside you, your pussy hole stretching wide to a size you never felt before. The sweet caressing upon your clit does not let up, and the entrance of whatever this hard object was overwhelming you.. too much..!! Your tongue lolls out of your lips, your mouth widening in a silent scream as the hard object continues to grow in girth and length inside you.
Tears well up your eyes, your arms tensing up around your legs as the painful stretch descends down into a pulsing pleasure inside you. Zhongli's name babbles out your mouth, your hand trembling as it attempts to look for the man responsible for the massage. You are stopped in your tracks when the object stills inside you for a few moments, allowing you to feel every inch of it. Your searching hand returns to clutch your leg, mouth gasping wide.
Thick, hard, and pulsing hot. Its exterior veiny, pressing against your crevices and needy spots. It was as if you were impaled on an oddly shaped rock and every once in a while, it pulsed.
It felt like forever since anything had moved, Zhongli hadn't even uttered a single word either. At least, you think he hasn’t, the slight ringing in your hypersensitive ears didn’t allow you to hear much while you gasped for air. What was this.. It was big, too big! What in Archons' name was this!?
You whimper when it pulls back out, stopping only midway. Suddenly, it pulls back and is roughly shoved back inside. The item is now an inch deeper inside you, thicker, and ever more daunting. Tears brim your eyes, becoming absorbed into the towel over you. Your muscles tense up in shock and pleasure, your pussy absolutely gushing around the length and your legs springing out in surprise. A single hand catches the back of your thighs, pinning them back down to your chest.
It was like a warning. A warning to keep still and behave.
"Dear, try to relax and enjoy the massage" None of the words reached your brain. Your pussy did all of the thinking for you. The pain was quickly mixing with the pleasure.
It began to move softly inside you, the wide base of the item is rubbing against the fat of your ass, its hanging appendage pressing against your other hole. Grinding against you, Zhongli began to shallowly thrust into you, not attempting to pull the thing back out. He is rewarded with quiet squeals of pleasure. His tip was pressing against the soft wall of your pussy and each time he grinds or delivers shallow thrusts, it digs in harder.
Zhongli hisses when he feels your tight walls tense up, leaving him stunned when he realized you had cummed over some grinding.
His rock-solid patience was eroding quite quickly. The fact that your cute body was trembling and your pussy was gushing all over him, he could hold back no longer. "Ngghk!" You choke when his dick pulls itself forcefully out of you, only leaving the tip inside. With his grip on your back knees tightening, he braces himself before he shoves everything back in one go.
An ear-piercing squeal is choked up immediately. The hard cock inside you was harshly pulled back and shoved back inside, its angle moving to reach a spot more deserving of your pleasured moans. The thick thing was moving inside you erratically, the apex of it pressing harshly against the deepest part of you.
“ Zhong-Zhongli..!! ” The gentle pressure against your clit returns and you swear you could hear the call of the heavens, ironically enough. You’ve never felt anything like this before, it was overwhelming! You feel your mind slipping deeper and deeper into a lustful daze, eventually hitting a high that only made you want more and more.
“NGHAAH-!” Your muscles tense up once more, your pussy gushing with vigor. The massage does not stop, it doesn’t even falter when you don’t feel yourself stop cumming. The grip on your skin stings but the constant stretch of your pussy walls and abuse of a spot leaves you more to desire than dislike. The climax gushes everywhere, coating both of your skin and the table under you. The consistent slapping of your skin turns sloppy and wet.
Your thighs and the sheets under you are suddenly drenched further by another climax from you. Through the wet plapping, you hear a distinct sound that sounds like deep sighs. These deep sighs eventually turn to light grunting the longer the massage went. The flicks on your clit turn into vibration and circulation, sending you into a higher form of existence.
The oiled parts of your body rub into each other, your tits specifically, making this a much more heavenly experience.  The strokes steadily slow down, turning from fast and aimed thrusts to deep and purposeful.
Throwing your head back, a scream is ripped out of you when Zhongli sends you one last deep thrust. The tip spurts something into you for a second before this object pulls back, its tip almost completely exiting from you before it is again driven deep into you. Something warm and filling squeezes into the cracks between the object and your pussy walls, filling you deep inside with a warm substance. The thick mixture of your cum and the solution spurts out of your hole harshly.
Your muscles completely melt into the sheets. Your tired legs aching as Zhongli loosens his grip on the back of our knees. Suddenly, the discomfort of your hips make itself known, throbbing as your legs are gently placed back onto the massage table. The exhaustion from the massage catches up to you quickly and you almost drift off. The adrenaline from the massage keeps you awake and sensitive though, each passing breath sent bolts back down to your pussy again.
However, you weren't aware that the object inside you was still, in fact, inside. Squeaks escape you when the thing thrusts inside you twice, one shallow and one harsher before it slowly pulls out of you completely. Your pussy hole twitches, leaking the warm substance that was squirted inside you. Zhongli's deep hum resonates inside you.
A question lingers in your tongue but it is quickly choked up as thick fingers drag up your pussy, most likely getting his fingertips wet. Two fingertips swirl and flick your clit again.
You panic, “M-Mister Zhongli, why don’t we take a b-break-!?” The two fingers are replaced with his thumb whilst another pressure finds itself tugging and lightly pinching at your breasts again.
Two hard fingers plunge themselves back into your pussy, curling and thrusting to its hilt. Your voice is replaced by gasping moans, thighs trembling harshly as the vicious attack on your sensitive pussy resumes. The liquid that was inside you spills out onto his palm and back around your clit, his thumb flicking the sloppy mixture onto it. You beg for him to wait, squealing with your thighs wrapped around his arm when he brings you into another climax. 
It takes no second longer for your pussy to clench around his finger and gush all over him. Muscles tense and your voice breaks at the mind-blowing orgasm that was ripped out of you after your first one not long ago.
You wail and sob when the assault on your pussy does not stop, only prolonging your orgasm by plunging his fingers in more. The bed dips as Zhongli's knees find a new angle, his cock now once again at attention for more. His fingers curl one last time before it is ripped out, only being replaced by a familiar weight.
Oxygen finds it heavy to enter your body because of how greedy you take a lot of it in and out. You can only squeal as Zhongli presses this thing back into your cunt.
It was late afternoon when you had woken up from the session. Again, you woke up alone and you were wobbling as if you were boneless. Unexpectedly, your hair was done in a respectable hairstyle and your clothes were placed much closer so you could reach them. A note sits on top of your clothes.
"The massage was stopped halfway today, please call this number so we may continue outside of work hours" Behind the beautifully written note is a number.
You did your best to dress yourself up but your tender body made it really difficult to do so. Standing up was especially difficult. Whenever you push yourself up with your arms they tremble and when you sit up your spine curls like a noodle.
Despite this, you stood up and walked out of the room.
However, you couldn't even take two steps forward before you hear something behind you.
"Miss" An ever-familiar deep voice calls out to you and you pause, feeling your face burn up in heat again. A familiar sensation makes itself known throughout your body. You hesitate, your heart racing. But eventually you turn to the masseur, smiling nervously when his amber eyes meet yours. "Y-Yes?" 
His usual expression remains, unmoving like stone. The smile on his face is so casual, you would not have guessed what he was doing a couple hours prior. Zhongli says, "Be careful on your way down. It is not advisable for clients to be up and about carrying things. You may drop them" The note you were clutching between your fingers is gripped onto tighter. 
Before you could take a step out of the parlor, the receptionist calls out once again.
"Come back soon miss! Your package lasts for three more days"
330 notes · View notes
virginsexgod69 · 2 days
Note
REQUEST ‼️‼️‼️
I’ve always wanted to read one where the reader is one of Hershel’s daughters (set in season 2). When Daryl and the group show up the reader won’t stop teasing Daryl and eventually he can’t take it anymore. Please make my dreams come true 😭😭🤘. (p.s virgin reader would be +50 points ;)
❝ V-Card ❞
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pairing (S2) Daryl Dixon x virgin!fem!Reader
cw loss of virginity, unprotected p in v, lowkey inexperienced daryl, but also not really?, teasing, some pining, daryl kinda being a boob man, reader being a little pervy at times
note i am so sorry i kept you waiting 32 days for this request @mygrandmaschinacabinet, i really hope you like this and thank you for your patience and kind comment on my other post!
p.s. just bc reader is hershel's daughter does not imply anything ab her appearence
~5.k words
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 Living on a farm that was fairly far from society, it was a given that you wouldn't see good looking guys too often. But being a good looking girl, the guys you didn't want were always the ones after you, and you'd always have to turn them down. When she gets older, she's gonna have to fight off boys with a stick, was something your grandma would often tease your father, Hershel, about. You laughed it off, not paying any mind to it, but boy did she end up being right. You spent a good portion of your high school years rejecting your suitors, none of which were good enough for you, and none of which you really wanted. But when you finally laid eyes on the most beautiful man you've ever seen, he happened to be one who seemed to pay you no attention. 
 Odd circumstances brought the beautiful man, whom you quickly learned was named Daryl Dixon, to your farm. Otis shot a kid, Hershel took him in to care for, and his dad's group eventually made a home on your father's land. You couldn’t help but ogle at him from your bedroom window whenever you got the chance. The way his biceps flexed whenever he worked with his arms had your virgin pussy aching to be filled by him. He was a man who you’d let do things to you that you’d let no other man before even think he had a chance of doing. 
“Not this again,” Maggie complained upon entering your room. You were perched at your window -like you have been since the group first arrived- watching Daryl skin some squirrels. No one could look as good as he did while doing such a grisly task. 
“Can you blame me? Jus’ look at him,” you replied dreamily. 
“No thanks.” 
“Whatever. You have your eye candy, I have mine.” 
“Eye candy? What’re you talkin’ about?” She asked defensively. 
“Glenn. I’ve seen the way you look at him, like he’s a piece of meat,” you teased. 
“Whatever! Do you need anythin’? I’m goin’ out on a run.” 
“With Glenn?” 
 She let out an annoyed huff and exited the room, not awaiting your response. But you didn’t need anything anyway. You went back to watching Daryl. The sweltering Georgia heat caused sweat to drench his sleeveless shirt and drip from his short, dark hair. He looked like he walked out of one of your many wet dreams. Just then, an idea popped into your head. You hurried down to the kitchen and filled a glass with water, cooling it with the scoops of ice you added. Surely this kind deed would put you on his radar. 
“Hey, Daryl,” you cheerily greeted as you approached the rugged man. He sat on a stump, now gutting the squirrels he already skinned. He grunted in response, not looking up from his work. Your smile dropped, not that it mattered, considering he wasn’t even looking at you. 
“Brought you some water. It’s pretty hot out here and I wouldn’t want ya gettin’ dehydrated,” you said as you held out the cold glass, now dripping with condensation. “Thanks.” He grabbed the glass, his fingers slightly brushing yours, sending a tingling through your spine. He threw his head back, downing the water. A small stream of water dripped down his chin, then his neck, sliding down his shirt no longer in your vision. You squeezed your thighs together. Every little thing he did drove you crazy. You felt like a victorian man who’d just seen a peek of a woman’s ankle whenever you were around Daryl. 
“You uh… Ya need somethin’?” He asked when he noticed you haven’t left yet. You froze. You didn’t need anything, but you didn’t want to leave either. 
“Jus’ came to check on ya, I guess,” you muttered. 
“ ‘M fine?” He tossed the squirrel’s guts into a bucket. 
“Well, alright. My work here is done!” You cringed as the words left your mouth. You grabbed the emptied glass and walked back into the house, chastising yourself the entire way. You wanted nothing more than to have him look at you the way other guys do, but he barely give you the time of day. 
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 The glimmer of sunbeams on your face woke you up the next morning. You glanced at the analog clock on your nightstand that read 11:36. You hopped out of bed and eagerly hurried to your window, hoping Daryl would be back from hunting or looking for that little girl or whatever else it was he did when he wasn’t in his usual spot. He was sat on that stump again, but this time he was cleaning his crossbow with that red rag he kept on him. You couldn’t take it anymore, you had  to do something. He couldn’t keep getting away with being so hot and so uninterested in you. 
 You readied yourself in the bathroom, making sure every hair was in place and every tooth was brushed. You debated putting on makeup. You had some leftover from before, but never had a reason to use it, not until now. You layered on some mascara until your lashes looked twice as long and twice as full and coated your lips with some tinted gloss. You stared into your closet debating on what you thought Daryl’d like better. Your tightest, shortest shorts and a nearly see-through tank top. 
“What’re doin’ all dolled up like that?” Your younger sister, Beth asked upon entering the kitchen. 
“Makin’ lunch for D-,” you stopped yourself, not wanting another sister catching onto your thing for Daryl, “for the group out there.” 
“Daddy doesn’t want us wastin’ all our stuff on them,” she protested. You rolled your eyes at her. She could be such a goody-two-shoes sometimes. “What he don’ know won’ hurt him.” You cut a piece of the sandwich you made and handed it to Beth. 
“Eat this and keep quiet.”  
You assembled the sandwich and a glass of lemonade on a tray and carried it over to his lone camp. He didn’t look at you until you were standing before him holding the tray of food. His eyes slowly made their way up to yours, lingering on your bare legs and exposed cleavage on their way up. You couldn’t help the small smirk that tugged the corners of your mouth at this small victory. He quickly averted his gaze and set his crossbow down. 
“Wha’s all this?” He asked, nodding his head toward the tray in your arms. 
“Made ya lunch. Figured you’d be hungry after all that huntin’ and searchin’ you been doin’,” you answered as you set down the tray. 
“Uh, thanks?” He seemed confused, but grateful nonetheless. “Of course,” you replied with a bright smile before sauntering off, swaying your hips more than usual. Unbeknownst to you, he watched you until the door closed behind you. 
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 In the days that passed, you upped the ante on your teasing. Daryl noticed. At noon almost everyday, you’d bring him lunch in risqué little outfits. Not quite skimpy, but just enough to tease him. And tease him they did. He already was too nervous to look at you, afraid he might scare you off with his gruff nature and lack of experience with women. He’d choose, instead, to catch glimpses of you when you weren’t watching. Like when you’d leave after bringing him something, or when you’d be around doing farm-work or interacting with the other members of his group. But when you started wearing those revealing outfits, it became harder for him to keep from looking at you. But when he made eye contact with you, he became so nervous and shy that he had to look away. You were the sun. He could feel your warmth, even when he couldn’t see you. You were so bright and beautiful that he felt pulled to look at you, but whenever he did, it couldn’t be for long because he’d forcibly look away, your bright smile burning his sensitive retinas. 
 Speaking of the sun, there you were. “Daryl!” You called as you ran to him. The actual sun glowed behind you, making you look even more like an angel. He was atop one of your horses ready to leave the farm to look for Sophia. He was shocked to see you since you usually weren’t up until noon. He’d know since that’s around the time he sees you watching him through your window. 
“Yeah?” He grunted. 
“Ya goin’ out to look for that little girl?” Once you were out of the sunlight, he could actually get a good look at you.  Something in him stirred when he saw you in the little dress you had on. It was a cream color with ruffles at the bottom and it gave him a good view of your breasts from his position on the horse. He quickly tore his eyes away and looked at the view ahead of him, which was nowhere near as beautiful as you. 
“I figure you’ll be gone for a bit, so I brought you a little bite to eat,” you said holding up a few muffins you made the other night wrapped in cheesecloth. 
“T-thanks,” he stuttered. Despite how frequent it was, he was always taken aback by the kindness you show him. He’s never been treated the way you treat him before and it caught him off guard. 
“Be back by dinner, okay?” It wasn’t a command, more of a hopeful question, but made his heart flutter. 
“I’ll try.” He didn’t want to make any promises he couldn’t keep. You stood there fiddling with your dress about to say something but deciding against it each time. 
“Wha’ is it?” 
“B-be safe out there!” You blurted before scampering off. He found it odd how you could be so bold with your teasing, yet shy when it came to actually talking to him. 
  Your words echoed in his head as he searched for any sign of Carol’s lost daughter. Your request of be back by dinner, okay? motivated him to get back to the farm, despite his injuries from the horse tossing him down a cliff making it difficult for him to move. But what really stuck with him was your horrified scream when you saw Andrea shoot him. That scream haunted his dreams while he was unconscious. The terror of it being the last thing he’d hear from you was his real nightmare. So when he heard your soft “Hey,” he felt relief wash over him, despite the pain everywhere else. He blinked his dry eyes open only for the first thing for him to see being your tits. You had on a loose t-shirt with no bra underneath. He didn’t know if this was a part of your teasing or a pure mistake, but either way, his cock stirred at the sight. You leaned down further to look into his eyes. 
“How ya feelin’?” You ask, placing the back of your hand to his forehead. He tried to croak out a response, but his throat was too dry. You quickly grabbed the glass of water at his bedside and helped him drink it. 
“Better?” 
“ ‘M fine,” he said. You gave him a look that said you didn’t believe him, but were humoring him anyway. “You were injured pretty badly, Daryl,” you said as you gently stroked his hair. He caught himself before he could fully melt into your touch. In fact, he moved away from it. 
“I know, ‘m fine,” he snapped before trying to roll over, away from you. He didn’t like you seeing him like this. So weak and frail, having to depend on those around him. He didn’t see the hurt expression that took over your pretty face. But, to his luck, you didn’t let him push you away. Instead, you toed off your shoes and got into the bed beside him, facing him. He hoped to the high heavens that you couldn’t see the redness that blossomed on his face when you flashed your bright smile at him. 
“I’ll keep ya company,” you promised. 
“Don’ need no company, said ‘m fine.” He didn’t know why he was so adamant about pushing you away. The minute he realized you were in here, he brightened up. He didn’t want his sunshine to leave, but he couldn’t help the storm that was brewing inside him. 
“Well, if you really want me to leave, I’ll go.” You were almost out of the bed before his clammy hand grabbed your wrist. 
“Nah, you can stay,” he said, prompting the return of that bright smile. 
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 When you woke up, the sun was setting and Daryl’s arm was around your waist, holding you close. Your heart swelled, this was all you ever wanted, to be in Daryl’s arms. Okay, well you wanted more than just his arm around you, but small victories! You gently moved his arm off you so you could get up and get some dinner from him and yourself. 
“What were you doin’ in there?” Your father asked as soon as you stepped out of the room. He stood outside, about to come in, holding a tray of food for the bowman. 
“Nothin’, Daddy, I was jus’ checkin up on our patient!” It was the truth, but it felt like a lie. 
“Since earlier this afternoon?” He pressed. 
“Lost track of time,” you explained. 
“Now, honey, I know you’re just lookin’ out for him, but-“ 
“I know, I know, you don’t really trust them, but I’m just lovin’ thy neighbor, so to speak.” You bargained. 
That response seemed to satisfy him for now. He handed you the tray of food to give you Daryl. 
“Daryl, dinner,” you called softly upon reentering the room. He groaned, but woke up anyway. He tried to sit up, but winced in pain. You set the tray down and quickly ran to his side to help him out. You adjusted his pillows and helped him to a sitting position. 
“Wha’s fer dinner?” He asked, glancing at the bowl of soup on the tray beside him on the bed. You hummed in thought before dipping your finger into the bowl and sucking it clean, making sure your lips were pouty as you did so, hoping to tease Daryl. 
“Tomato.” He hummed noncommittally before reaching for the spoon. You swatted his hand away. “Nuh uh, you’re still healing, let me feed you.” 
“I can feed myself,” he protested. You furrowed your brows and pouted at him. He sighed and rolled his eyes, but opened his mouth slightly, waiting for a bite. You smiled, scooping up some soup and spooning it into his mouth, making sure to lean forward as to give him a front row seat to the view down your shirt. You saw him avoid looking the first few times, but soon he was unable to resist taking a peek, and soon his peeking became staring (however, he pretended not to be whenever you looked back up at him). 
“Enjoy the soup?” You asked once the bowl was mostly empty. 
“S’alright,” he said as he nibbled on a cracker. You grabbed the bowl and drank the rest of the soup directly from it. 
“Goddammit!” You cursed when a glob of soup fell onto your white t-shirt. But maybe it was a blessing in disguise, a chance to drive Daryl crazy. You grabbed a random t-shirt from one of the drawers and set it down before taking off the one you had, tossing it aside. You put the new one on as if you didn't just give him a strip show. His face was beet red and he hurried to adjust the blankets on his lap. 
"Daryl, you okay? You look a little hot?" 
"S'just w-warm in here." 
"Let me jus' check your temperature." Instead of pressing the back of your hand to his forehead like before, you placed a gentle kiss to it. 
"Feels a little warm." You stayed close to his face. If he moved, even a centimeter, his lips would touch yours, which is what you were hoping for. You glanced down at his lips, then up at his blue eyes, waiting for him to lean in. Despite all this teasing, you kinda wished he'd make a move, too. When he didn't, you pulled away, kissing him on the cheek instead. 
"Get well soon, okay?" you said before taking the tray and leaving. 
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Daryl had been mentally punching himself since that night. He was an idiot for not kissing you when he had the chance. You were right there and so obviously waiting for him to do something, anything. But he couldn't. It'd been so long since he'd done anything with a woman, and even then, he didn't think he was any good. He was almost embarrassed about how inexperienced he was at his age. And someone as beautiful as you obviously would have some experience, so why waste time on him. He didn't want to be the cloud that dulled your shine. 
 He was now well enough to be released from Hershel’s care, but not well enough to resume about his usual ways. He’d normally disobey orders to take it easy, but when you made him promise to rest, he couldn’t break it. Subconsciously, he glanced over to your window. It wasn’t something he did often, considering you were usually the one watching him, but you were weighing heavily on his mind. He saw you up in your room, assuming you’d just woken up since it was almost noon. You were at your window, rummaging through your dresser -he knew where it was when he caught a glimpse of your room when he was inside the house. You held up a few shirts, probably deciding on which to wear, before pulling your pajama shirt off over your head. This was now the second, no, third time he’s gotten a perfect view of your tits. God they would feel so good in his hands, better yet, they’d look so good  bouncing in unison with his thrusts as he fucked you into your mattress. Your teasing and mischievous ways only fueled his fantasies, causing his pants to tighten uncomfortably. The little wave you gave him from your window pulled him out of his own head. You, still topless, blew him a kiss before stepping out of frame. 
 His heart rate increased expeditiously as he nearly came in his pants. He couldn’t handle your teasing anymore, it was driving him crazy. He wanted you, not just the fantasies in his head and the company of his hand. He wanted to feel your walls squeeze his cock, hear your little moans as he pleasured you until your mind went numb, become one with you as you came in unison. He hurried into his tent and zipped it all the way up before collapsing onto his sleeping bag and hurrying to undo his pants. He liberated his aching cock from its confines and spat on his hand. He rubbed himself up and down, from base to tip, imagining it was your pretty mouth swallowing him whole. He ignored the sound of distant footsteps approaching his tent and instead chased his climax, which was coming embarrassingly fast. 
“Daryl?” Your distant voice called, but all he heard in his mind was you moaning his name as your nails scratched down his back. 
“You in here?” You asked. Daryl came in his hand, taking extra care to stifle the moan that threatened to spill from his mouth. Reality set in when he saw your shadow standing outside his tent. He quickly wiped his hand off on the closest piece of fabric and shoved himself back in his pants. 
“Need somethin’? He asked. He willed you not to notice his flushed, sweaty face. 
“Watcha doin’ in there?” You asked, trying to peek into his tent. He moved to block your vision. He didn’t need you finding any trace of his earlier activity. Although, the little dress you had on had him ready to continue said activities.
“Nothin’.” 
“Anyway, I came to check on you, make sure you’re takin’ it easy.” 
“I am, was jus’ takin’ a nap,” he lied. 
“Then why are you so red? And sweaty? Are you comin’ down with somethin’?!” You were starting to sound worried, making Daryl feel guilty. You reached up to feel his forehead and check for a fever, but he stepped back, avoiding your touch. If he felt your skin on his, in any capacity, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold back anymore. 
“Daryl, don’t be so stubborn!” You stepped closer only for him to step back again. 
“Ain’ got no fever, girl! S’just hot out here!” He insisted. 
“Don’ know that for sure. If it is one, it could mean one of your wounds is infected.” 
“S’not a fever, ‘m sweaty from workin’ out.” You looked at him with an eyebrow skeptically raised and a hand on your hip. So much for takin’ a nap, you thought. Your eyes traveled down his body before meeting his again, this time with look more mischievous than usual in your eyes. 
“Your fly’s down.” He quickly zipped it up, cursing himself for the dumb mistake. 
“Anythin’ to do with your ‘work out’?” 
“Dunno what yer gettin’ at.” His heart was beating faster in his chest, this time because of anxiety. You were onto him and he was about to get caught, humiliated under your scrutinizing gaze.
“Flushed, sweaty face.” You took a step closer and he took one back. “Dilated pupils.” Another step forward and another one back. “Unzipped fly.” He stepped back, not looking where he was going and stumbled onto the grassy ground. You sat down next to him. “Took forever to open your tent.” Your face split into a grin like the Cheshire Cat.   “I’d say you were in there masturbatin’.” He stumbled over his words, looking for what to say in denial of your observation accusation. You pressed your pointer finger to his lips. 
“Shh, it’s okay.” You leaned over him and slid your hand down his chest. “I touch myself, too.” His sparkling blue eyes went wide. “Usually thinkin’ ‘bout you when I do it.” You could feel his breathing change as you slid your hand further down his toned stomach. “Were you thinkin’ ‘bout me?” His face was beet read and breathing shallow. You had him and he was more than ready, willing, and able to give in. He nodded his head, confirming your suspicions. 
“Well, next time I’m on your mind,” you leaned down, lips ghosting his parted ones, “don’t just settle for your hand.” His lips finally met yours in a heated kiss. The built up tension from his days of pining and yours of teasing finally being released in that kiss. You tangled your fingers in his hair, deepening the kiss, slipping your tongue inside and drinking in all his pleasured groans. 
“Wanna go back to my room?” You asked after pulling away. 
“Nah, too far. Let’s go inside my tent.” You happily agreed and hurried inside, zipping it up behind Daryl. His mouth was back on yours in an instant, passionately exploring it with his tongue. He kissed his way down to your neck, roughly sucking marks. 
“Oh, Daryl!” You shouted when he reached a certain spot on your neck, just beneath your ear. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him impossibly close. Nervously, Daryl’s hand experimented with touching your body, his hands firmly gripping your hips. They were comfortable there and not daring enough to try anything else. He wanted to impress you, but at the same time he didn’t want you to notice that he had no clue what he was doing or what to do next, using the pirated porn and one night stands of his past as reference. Your hands grabbed his and placed them on your tits. 
“Touch me, Daryl!” You whined. His hands groped and kneaded at the soft mounds of flesh hidden behind the thin fabric of your dress. He pulled down the front of your dress, freeing your tits then recapturing one by putting it in his mouth. His large hand toyed with the right while his mouth suckled the other. Your little wanton whimpers egged him on, giving him the confidence to try more. Your squirmed beneath him, squeezing your thighs together. His cock was also painfully hard, once again, and yearning to feel your warm walls around him. He pulled away and undid his pants before pulling out his cock, stroking it a few times. He looked up at you, but you looked less excited. Your eyes wouldn’t meet his and your arms were crossed over your chest, hiding yourself from him. 
“Wha’s the matter, Sunshine?” He asked, the nickname rolling of his tongue naturally. He was more than excited to sleep with you, but his worry regarding your sudden change outweighed that. 
“N-nothin’. Jus’ put it in,” you said hoarsely. 
“Nah, we ain’ doin’ nothin’ unless ya tell me wha’s wrong.” It sounded harsh, but it came from a place of genuine concern. 
You sat up, readjusting your dress as you did so. “I-it’s jus’,” you nervously fiddled with the hem of your dress, something Daryl noticed you did a lot around him. “C-can we go slow? I haven’t done any of this stuff before,” you admitted. 
“You a virgin?” He asked, astonished. You glumly nodded your head as if you were accepting defeat. In a twisted way, that relieved him a bit. Maybe since you’ve never had sex, you wouldn’t notice his own lack of experience.  He put himself in his boxers before patting the spot in front of him. You crawled over to him and sat between his legs, your back against his chest. His lips found that spot on your neck again and began sucking there as his hand slid underneath your panties. He rubbed your clit in tight circles, causing your thighs to clamp shut over his hand. 
“Jus’ relax,” he coaxed. You relaxed the best you could, but the pleasure kept you from staying still. 
“F-faster,” you whimpered. He obeyed your command, rubbing you at a quicker pace. Your head fell back against his shoulder and you moaned in his ear. His other hand slipped beneath your panties and gathered your arousal on his finger, before he slowly slid it inside you, giving you time to adjust. He pumped it in and out of you as he continued to rub your clit. Your back arched off him as you moaned his name. He easily slipped in a second finger with how wet you were. Your velvety walls were so soft around his thick digits. He couldn’t wait to feel them with his cock. He moved his fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion, hitting you in a spot that had you babbling nonsense. You squeezed his fingers with your soaking cunt as your first orgasm overtook your body. 
“Daryl, I’m ready. Need ta feel ya inside me,” you slurred. He helped you lay down on your back and slid your panties off before pulling his painfully hard cock out again. Your legs rested over his thighs as he coated his member in your juices before lining it up with your entrance. He slid in as slowly as he could, making sure this would be as painless as it could be for you. You were so soft, slippery, and smooth around him, the best pussy he’s ever had. Once he was all the way in, he stopped to give you time to adjust. He leaned down and connected your lips in another kiss, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled held him close. 
“You can move now.” His hands gripped your hips as he started slowly thrusting in and out of you, not wanting to give you too much too soon. His pleasured grunts mingled with your moans as he slid in and out of you. 
“More, need more!” You whined. He adjusted your position, placing your legs over his broad shoulders. The new position allowed him to fill you even better. As he pounded in and out of you, the erotic sounds of damp skin slapping damp skin filled the tent, harmonizing with his and your sounds of pleasure. He lifted your dress over your head, getting rid of the barrier between you and him, and tossed it aside. His own fantasies came true as he watched your tits bounce in unison with his thrusts. He took them in his hands again, rolling your nipples between his finger and thumb, bringing you closer to your climax. 
“Daryl I think I’ma-” Your sentence trailed off into a moan as you came around his cock. He fucked you through your orgasm as his own approached. He pulled out of you just as he was about to finish and came all over your tits and stomach, like a firehose. You let out a satisfied hum, barely able to keep your eyes open. He grabbed one of his discarded shirts and cleaned you off before laying beside you in the sleeping bag. You rolled over to face him and hugged him close in your arms. 
“You were the best first I coulda asked for,” you confessed. Your words soothed his worries that he didn’t perform well enough while also making his heart flutter.
“Guess all yer teasin’ paid off.” You giggled against his chest. 
 He pulled you closer to him and pulled you in for another kiss, a sweeter, gentler one this time. You dozed off in his comforting arms, wishing you’d never have to leave. 
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i proofread it, yaaay! anyway, thanks for reading! <3
i wrote this instead of doing my homework, mwahahahah >=]
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deunmiu-dessie · 3 days
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ⅱ ▬ ⁽ 𝑔𝒽𝑜𝓈𝓉 ⁾
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𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ♡︎ : ₃˖₈ₖ ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡
𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ♡︎ : mdni----- unedited, NSFW, dubcon, rape/noncon elements, explicit content, spectrophilia, ghost/human, rough sex, "unprotected" sex, creampie, somnophilia, cunnilingus. ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ♡︎: after coming home from a grueling day of work, instead of being able to relax, the feeling of someone watching you has you scared. ꒰m!ghost ₊⊹ afab!reader꒱
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CLICK
𝒯 he soft glow of your lamp casts a warm yellow light throughout the desolate home, but it fails to dispel the darkness that lingers. You make a mental note, weariness seeping into your thoughts, to buy a new lightbulb from the mart later in the week. The dimness of the room matches the heaviness in your heart, as you feel the weight of loneliness settle upon your shoulders, part of you knows you should be used to coming home with no one to greet you, but it still stings nonetheless.
Struggling to remove your gym shoes, you let out an annoyed groan, exhaustion causing you to stumble and collide into the wall with a thump. Finally freeing your feet, you stretch your arms above your head and let out a tired sigh. Your muscles ache from the long day at work, and the fatigue seems to seep into your bones. Your eyes flutter closed from the effects of sleep deprivation but your stomach grumbles with a ravenous craving for a thick pastrami sandwich. The thought of sinking your teeth into the juicy meat and tangy mustard momentarily distracts you from the weariness that engulfs you.
Discarding your wool coat onto the carpeted floor, you shuffle yourself wearily down the hallway towards the kitchen, fully expecting it to still be a mess from three days ago. The cluttered countertops and unwashed dishes serve as a constant reminder of your chaotic schedule and the lack of time you have for yourself. It’s as if the mess mirrors the disarray in your own life, and you can’t help but feel overwhelmed by it all. At times you missed living with your parents and not having any responsibilities. Being an adult was so stress-inducing you just wanted to lay in bed and cry sometimes.
Leaning against the hallway wall, you find solace in pressing your forehead against the cool, flowered wallpaper. Sleep weighs heavily on your eyelids, momentarily clouding your vision and tempting you to succumb to its embrace. And just as your legs threaten to give way, a gentle chill dances down your spine, jolting you awake with a surge of electricity. A tired sigh escapes your lips as you run your palm down your face, mustering the strength to continue towards the kitchen. The chaotic mess that greets you almost makes you cry.
Resting against the entryway to the kitchen, a pang of regret washes over you. Deep down, and not even buried that far truly, you wish you hadn’t taken your coworker’s shift. Despite your fondness for the woman, working two consecutive twelve-hour shifts was more than you could handle. And as the new nurse in the hospital, you were an easy target for those who wanted to shirk their responsibilities, they left you to run around like a headlesss chicken.
You finally gather the energy to carry yourself into the kitchen, reaching for a cup from the cupboard and turning on the sink faucet, allowing lukewarm water to fill it. Impatiently you can’t wait for the tap to run cold and quickly knock back the glass, the satisfaction of quenching your thirst outweighs the temperature. Slouching against the sink, you take a moment to stretch, feeling your joints crack and your muscles slacken. You flutter your eyes shut to stop yourself from gazing at the mess that’s your kitchen.
Placing the glass on the worn countertop, you set your medical bag on the kitchen island and head towards the staircase, overwhelmed by the longing for a shower and some rest. However, as you approach the hallway, a sudden shiver runs down your spine, causing goosebumps to rise on your arms. Your legs momentarily go numb, and you manage to grab hold of the stair railing, preventing yourself from stumbling. After being on your feet for a whole day, you were shocked you had not immediately collapsed when you walked in the door.
A sudden sense of unease washes over you when you survey your modest home, the horrid sensation of being observed seeping into your skin and festering in your mind. It’s as if the feeling surrounds you, leaving you breathless and on edge. Your eyes dart between the dimly lit kitchen and the shadowy staircase, it’s as if the shadows themselves are in motion. Objects seem out of place, and didn’t you leave your bag on the island?
Confusion creases your brow as you search for your bag, it takes a while but you discover it leaning against the couch’s armrest in the living room. Your unease deepens, causing a slight twitch in your eye. The entire situation leaves you unsettled. Anxiously, you bite down on your lower lip, feeling the sting as your teeth sink into the flesh. Once more, the sensation of being watched intensifies, as though someone is observing your every move, listening to your every thought, and knowing your every action. Goosebumps raise on your skin, skittering down your back.
You shake your head in disbelief and pinch the bridge of your nose, the weight of exhaustion and hunger bearing down on you. ( the latter was something you would fix in the morning, as you did not have the energy to cook anything.) The darkness of the hallway only adds to your supposed delusion. With a heavy sigh, you push yourself away from the railing and begin the arduous climb up the stairs.
Stopping just shy of the top of the stairs, you reach your hand out and glide it along the cool walls beside you, feeling for the light switch— one may think that you would know where the light was in a house that you’ve lived in for two years, but you seemed to fail to find it every time. Your palm glides along the walls, desperately searching for the elusive light switch. It’s a futile attempt, as if the house itself is playing tricks on you. The anticipation builds as you inch closer to the top, your body tensing with each step.
Finally, the click of the switch echoes through the silence. But it’s not your doing. Panic sets in as you realize someone else must be in the house, but soon the hallway is bathed in harsh light, exposing every shadow and corner. Yet no one is there. You stare at your hand, questioning whether you had unknowingly flipped the switch.
Ignoring the fear that threatens to consume you, you force yourself to continue. Quickly, you make your way to your room, seeking solace behind the closed door. But even within the confines of your sanctuary, the feeling of being watched persists. It’s as if an unseen presence lingers, peering into the depths of your soul.
Your skin tingles in question as the ethereal sensation of fingers delicately cupping your cheek sends shivers down your spine (truly almost nonexistent). A surge of unease washes over you, even though you can’t see anything, you can sense an intense, ravenous gaze fixated on you. Shaking off the remnants of your episode, you take a hesitant step forward, determined to overcome any lingering apprehension. With a burst of courage, you scurry to your dresser and retrieve an oversized T-shirt, a memento stolen from your older brother years ago, along with a pair of plain black cotton panties.
No matter what strange occurrences were unfolding, you refuse to let them hinder your plans for a hot shower. The past twenty-four hours have left you covered in sweat and grime, and you are determined to cleanse yourself of it all.
With eager anticipation, you make your way to the bathroom, barely bothering to close the door behind you. Placing your clothes in the sink, you turn towards the shower, pushing the curtain aside to adjust the knobs and pull up the shower valve, spurring on the hot water. As the bathroom fills with steam, your breathing becomes slightly shallow, the heat causing your cheeks to flush.
Stepping back towards the sink, you gaze at the fogged-up mirror, your reflection blurred and distorted. Like a scene from a horror movie, you raise your hand and press it against the glass, wiping downwards and watching as the water droplets cascade lower, dripping on your discarded clothing below.
As your eyes meet your reflection once more, they immediately lose focus and fixate on the imposing figure standing just a few meters behind you. Towering over six feet tall, his muscular frame exudes a suffocating amount of dominance and power. A scream of terror and disbelief escapes your lips, and in a panic, you grab the hand soap from the sink and swiftly turn around, hurling it towards the intruder. The bottle soars through the air, crashing into the wall before landing on the tiled floor.
There was no one there; you were going crazy.
“Calm down. You need to sleep. It’s been a long day; your mind is playing tricks on you.”
You were just full of excuses, desperately trying to maintain your sanity. But surprisingly, those excuses provided a strange comfort, no matter how unbelievable they were. So, you decided to settle yourself down, shedding your work pants and kicking them aside. Your shirt and undergarments followed suit, as you let go of all inhibitions. In that moment, the fear that had consumed you was momentarily forgotten.
You gazed at your reflection in the mirror, taking a moment to wipe away any imperfections. Your eyes wandered down to your body, taking in the soft ridges of faint stretch marks on your breasts with your fingertips. As your palms venture lower, they lovingly caress your thighs, reveling in the velvety softness of your skin and the warmth that radiates from them.
With a shake of your head, you release a sigh of surrender, allowing your hands to fall gracelessly to your sides. You take a step closer to the inviting tub, parting the shower curtain to reveal the steamy water within. As you enter the embrace of the hot water, a soft moan of pleasure escapes your lips, the heat enveloping your entire being and melting away the tension in your muscles. This shower was exactly what you craved.
After diligently scrubbing your skin until it’s both raw (and irresistibly smooth), you find yourself sitting on the floor of the tub, relishing in the sensation of the water cascading over your hair and body. However, as much as you yearn to stay in the blissful sanctuary that is your tub until the water turns cold, you reluctantly acknowledge the losing battle against sleep that you’re already engaged in.
Carefully rising from the bathtub, you extend your hand under the cooling sprays of the water to twist the knobs and halt the shower, pushing the valve down afterward. Exiting the tub, you forgo the use of a towel and opt to let the air dry you while reaching for your toothpaste and toothbrush from their respective places. Relocating your clothes from the sink to the nearby shelf, you proceed to brush your teeth swiftly, counting to fifty before spitting and returning everything to its original position.
You grab your face wash and dispense a small amount onto your palm, with gentle strokes, you massage the cleanser into your skin, creating a lather that removes the remnants of yesterday morning’s messy makeup. Switching on the tap, you lean over the sink, allowing the warm water to flow into your hands, smoothly gliding it across your face and rinsing away the soap.
Your back divots suddenly with a delicate grace as an ethereal caress firmly grasps your sensetive hips, eliciting a startled gasp of surprise from your parted lips. Your eyes pop open, darting around in a hasty manner, well, stupidly, seeing as you hadn’t quite finished washing your face--- the remnants of soap trickling into your eyes. A sharp hiss escapes your mouth as you instinctively lower yourself to rinse away the discomfort.
Once more the tantalizing trail of fingers tracing along your spine is undeniably present. You remain still, your muscles tensing in anticipation, trembling as the touch ascends higher, encircling your neck. With trembling hands, you turn off the faucet and inhale deeply, attempting to steady your racing heart. The deep, seductive timbre of your name being whispered intimately close to your ear fills you with a bone-chilling terror. Quickly, you snatch your garments from the nearby shelf and flee into the sanctuary of your bedroom, momentarily struggling with the bathroom door.
“Calm down, calm down; this is not happening. You’re hallucinating.”
You erratically throw on your shirt, using it to also dry your face, and shimmy your panties up your legs, the soft cotton resting comfortably on your hips. You quickly crawl into bed and pull the comforter up to your chin, shutting your eyes and tucking your bottom lip into your mouth. (Your hair could wait, you were not getting out of bed.)
“Hey, Alexa, turn off: Bedroom Lights. ”
You can’t even recall switching on the overhead light, but honestly, you’re past the point of caring. The mechanical response plunges the room into darkness, and the moment your head hits the pillow (as comfortable as it can be when cold and damp), you’re fast asleep.
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You’re unsure how long it’s been, but your eyes flutter open, heavy with sleep when you feel the sensation of large, calloused hands gliding up your stomach softly. The touch is unfamiliar, but it doesn’t necessarily frighten you as it should, instead, you can feel yourself throbbing in your panties, gentle and shy. You blame your sleep deprivation on the lack of fear.
The hands approach your bare breasts, a thumb rubbing over the taught peaks of your pebbled nipples causing a soft gasp to escape your luscious lips, your cheeks burning with fiery heat, and your body arching ever so slightly from the bed, offering your breasts to the awaiting, eager palms.
Your pussy, warm and slick, constricts and drools with your arousal. Maybe it’s the thrill of imagining a supernatural encounter, but you’ve never felt as aroused and eager as you do at this moment; dripping and throbbing.
You feel a surge of anticipation as your panties are gently shifted aside, a trail of your desire following suit. Ghostly fingers swiftly trail up your inner thigh, getting closer to your sopping pussy, and despite the uncertainty of the situation, the mysterious touch ignites a fire within you. The paranormality behind the sensation makes your heart pound and your pussy salivate with need. Lost in a whirlwind of lustful thoughts, a soft caress on your clit causes your hips to involuntarily buck, your lip bruised from the force of your bite. “Ah~”
Your voice comes out as a breathy, needy whine. The suspense of where and when the next touch will land sends shivers of excitement down your spine. And as soon as you're almost on the verge of begging, a rush of hot air sweeps over your dripping core, causing your pussy to clench instinctively. Your throbbing clit pulsates with an insatiable ache, lost in a haze of pleasure, and your eyes roll back, unable to fully grasp the intensity of the experience.
As the sensation engulfs you, your throbbing bud is devoured by their hungry mouth. The combination of their saliva and your own intoxicating arousal trickles down, moistening your tight, quivering entrance. The sensation is nothing short of divine, as if their touch is delicately fondling and slurping at every nerve within your shuddering body.
Your hips, moving with a will of their own, rise from the bed and writhe. You can’t help but squeal softly as firm, powerful, and large hands encircle your hips, forcefully pressing you down onto the mattress, indulging in your warm, sticky juices; skillfully teasing your clit with its tongue. Your cries and pleas echo loudly, a stark contrast to your usual quiet demeanor when having sex with men.
Oh, but you felt like a bitch in heat, like your entire being was engulfed in flames and burning you from the inside out— it made you want to scream and cry.
Your body trembles uncontrollably as the knot tightens, gripping your stomach, thighs, and lower abdomen. In a desperate bid for relief from the agonizing pleasure, you instinctively gyrate your hips. Your vision blurs and fades into a blinding white haze, signaling your impending climax. But just as you teeter on the edge of release, the touches abruptly cease, leaving you yearning for more.
You whimper and attempt to reach down to your soaking pussy to pat and rub at your engorged clit, but you unintentionally freeze in place; a small knot of fear causes your eyes to well up, yet it only intensifies your craving for its caress. When nothing further occurs, you start to plead, like a desperate whore— as if you hadn’t been touched in years.
And as if pleased, the ghostly caresses return to your sensitive clit, moving with a deliberate slowness that sends shivers down your spine. You can’t help but let out a series of soft moans, as you offer up sweet words of gratitude to the mysterious entity pleasuring you.
“Ah, yes, yes, please!”
Your body tenses as the knot tightens, aching with a mix of pain and pleasure. Your hips move uncontrollably, seeking more of that sweet torment. Yet, it stops once more, leaving you to come down from your ruined high. You’re a sobbing mess now, grinding against the air, waiting for something, anything.
Your throat constricts suddenly, leaving you breathless as fingers delve into your tight, dripping pussy, curling and prodding your spongey g-spot. The digits seem to know your pussy like the back of their hand, stroking every nerve inside of you. The squelching sound of your arousal drowns out your heavy breathing and mewling moans. The entity suddenly adds its thumb to the mix, circling your clit quickly. The pleasure escalates swiftly, and your eyes squeeze shut as a rush of pure ecstasy overwhelms you, leaving your thighs quivering and twitching from the deep, blissful climax.
After the high subsides, you pant for air, the tension easing from your throat. You sprawl sensually on your bed, clit throbbing and arousal coating your sheets. A tepid, exhausted breath escapes your lips as a thickness delicately nudges apart the folds of your pulsating entrance, prompting an instinctual urge to flee. However, unyielding hands firmly pull you closer, and your legs reluctantly surrender to their command.
You can feel a bulbous, mushroom-shaped tip forcefully penetrating your quivering, weeping pussy eliciting a mixture of pleasure and pain at the invasion. Your pretty eyes roll quickly to the back of your head as the unknown entity plunges its heavy, thick cock into your tight entrance, your thighs pressed to your chest and legs draped over broad shoulders.
You keen softly, as your pliable walls ensnare his cock in a vice-like, velvety embrace. “More, I need more; please fuck me, please.” Your plea is abruptly silenced as its thick length withdraws from within you, only to resume with an intense, unconventional rhythm—leaving you no opportunity to adjust to its entire length.
The unyielding grip on your waist marks you in the most delicious way, leaving behind a trail of bruises that only heighten the pleasure coursing through you. Your pussy feels so full and sated, despite nothing physically filling you, you throb with satisfaction.
Lost in the depths of your pleasure, the reasons behind your desperate pleas elude you, but you continue to spill them forth without hesitation, unable to think. Once again, your breath is stolen away, your throat constricts, and an intense orgasm surges through you like a forceful tidal wave. A delicious warmth then radiates from your core, spreading through your tummy.
The most painful and pleasurable feeling of being filled with cum has you aching for a taste of it. Your body goes limp, but whatever is fucking you doesn’t stop; their cock pistols into you despite you slowly losing consciousness.
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As your eyes flutter open, you gradually rise from the bed. The room is shrouded in darkness, leaving you disoriented about the time you’ve spent asleep. Urgently, you rush to the bathroom due to your full bladder. Stepping out of bed, a gasp escapes your lips as your foot lands on a cold, damp object. Upon closer inspection, you realize it’s your panties. Blushing, you drop them and shake your head, with your hair still slightly wet from the previous night’s shower.
As you enter the bathroom, you opt for the wall light switch instead of the one on the ceiling, casting a gentle, warm radiance throughout the room. Oblivious to your reflection, you casually stroll past the mirror, too exhausted to spare a second glance.
As you ease yourself onto the toilet seat, your tired eyes gently close, and the tinkling sound of you using the bathroom lulls you into a state of sleep for a brief moment. A few moments pass, and you linger a bit longer before reaching for a flushable wet wipe, dutifully cleansing yourself before discarding it into the swirling abyss of the toilet bowl.
With a swift flush, you rise to your feet and shuffle to the sink to cleanse your hands. However, as you slowly open your drowsy eyes and catch a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror, a sudden chill runs down your spine.
As you gingerly raise your shirt, a gasp escapes your lips. The sight before you is both shocking and unsettling. Crimson and violet bruises, resembling the imprint of a colossal hand, encircle your throat, cascading down to conceal your collarbone and shoulders. As your eyes wander further, a gasp escapes your lips. Vivid handprints, a testament to an intimate encounter, mark your hips in crimson and violet, while a constellation of hickies adorns your tummy.
As you gaze into the mirror, you suddenly catch sight of a man standing behind you, from earlier. Surprisingly, he seems closer than the last time you saw him, and you can feel the warmth of his body through your shirt. He stands tall, with bulging muscles and an overwhelming presence that leaves you breathless. However, his appearance remains a mystery, as you struggle to make out his features. Just then, the bathroom door slams shut, plunging the room into darkness as the lights flicker off. Your heart skips a beat as you feel hands slowly trail up your shirt, eventually cupping your pussy.
His voice is like a warm embrace, wrapping around you with its deep, sensual, sinful, and amused tones.
“I’m not done with you yet.”
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sxplict · 3 days
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✶ ⋆˙.⠀GIMME SOME TIL IM GOIN DUMB. ❜ ──────── shokosugu & shiuji.
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SINCERELY , YOURS TRULY Ξ ©SXPLICT, 2024
明示的 ⌇ nsfw. fem!reader. pussy eating. sεx tape. overstimulation. riding. double penetration. bondages. choking. blowjob. doggy style. spanking. anal. crying. triple penetration. creampie. man handling. ( wc. 4k )
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝐒 𝐇 𝐎 𝐊 𝐎 𝐒 𝐔 𝐆 𝐔
"⠀SMILE FOR THE , CAMERA , PRETTY.⠀"
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀" M ─ aybe next time you'll listen , hm , pretty girl?" raw adorning venom seeped through each breath of oxygen that fanned through the crisp air , the woman’s devilish words only the tip of the iceberg to her prolonged torment she rained down on your delicately sensitive body. flesh as tainted as a limousine window , eyes far too swollen to even begin visibly seeing her mouth moving. even if you so much as pleaded with her , the ball gag she practically embedded into your jaw halted any such desires from occurring , only allowing her to be the one talking whilst you endured every order she gave.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the only way you could intake air was through your nose , yet even that was suffocating you with the rigid stench of erotica and bodily pheromones with each inhale you took. glossed eyes strained each passing second you held eye contact with Shoko , her piercing graze dragging needle pins along the plush of your heated cheek bones. no matter how many times you shuddered in pure delight , how much you drenched your gag in saliva that some trickled down the sides of your jaw , she continued to coo your whines and cries with a smile.
���⠀⠀⠀⠀much like any other couple , your day started off subtle. it was calming , peaceful even. however , that was entirely unnatural for you. you couldn’t put your fingers on it , not even for a brief moment. until you were lying in the woman’s lap , head resting along her thighs with a camera in your face for a future event that she had yet to disclose to you.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀it was frightening , to say the least. she’d never been one to be so closed off with you. but , you trusted her , so it had to be for a good reason.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"fuck~ sho , you keep talking to her like that and i’m gonna be rock solid." delighted by the moments ease , a vague 'pop' sound flowing through Suguru’s hoarse words when he pried his puffed and soaked lips from your pulsating clit.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀goosebumps were merely child’s play to describe how the flesh of your legs spiked once you’d been released from his grasp and allowed to tremble in peace. a heavy weight that once had your chest under its wrath was alas lifted , equally as heavy eyelids fluttering sheepishly. the below room temperature that breezed between your legs led lightning bolts up your thighs , but with the way you’d been used and abused for the past few hours , you had absolutely no energy left to close them from the draft.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀frugal mixtures of saliva and cum leaked through the sensitive folds of your pussy , hands bound by your wrists along your chest with a clip connected to your neck collar which stopped you from being able to cover it. Suguru’s taunting gaze leered upon your sweets , not a single movement being made and causing a nerve chilling sensation to spiral up your neck thinking about what his next moves were. it had your heart beating faster than a child on a rollercoaster. the adrenaline absolutely disgusting with each prattled breath you took.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀whilst your quivering figure lied diligently against the silk sheets of your king sized mattress , Shoko continued to talk into the camera , mocking your state of absolute bliss. all you could do was lay there as helplessly as a damsel in distress , staying true to what you actually were.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"now be a good girl and tell the camera how sorry you are , m’kay," your nods of obedience were much of a pleading dog begging its owner. she slowly unclasped the ball gag and watched you mouth words as if to speak , though for a few moments only air breezed past your dried lips.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"p—please sho , please , i—i swear i'll be a good girl. i—i promise. 'm sorry." hiccups found their way weaved into the sobs of mercy you wove into the frigid air around you.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀soulless eyes were met amidst your tantrum , brief motions being used as communication all the while your voice sunk deeper in the depths of silence. their looming aura’s would’ve suffocated you if not for another second of their sealed lips.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀a slither of saliva coaxed each of your own , curing the deserted fleshed that’d begun to feel as if you kissed sandpaper. vigilantly watching your lovers speak without words was far harder than learning to play an instrument , the tranquility more overbearing that sheet music. it was no help deciphering their plans for you when Suguru rose to his full height , his broad figure increasing his intimidation than usual. the apex of his knees had slowly found their way close to you , his shirt being tossed alongside your bed frame with his figure lay against the headboard.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you hadn’t quite figured out how he suddenly appeared there , a few blinks whilst he shifted his position and he was no longer standing at the end of the bed. fear being a main factor in your thought process , you precisely observed Shoko’s movements next , watching as she placed the camera atop the headboard right above Suguru. the suction cup attached to it allowing the machinery to remain in its place.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀without a moments notice , Shoko had already crawled back down to you , sleek fingers curling around the chain that connected your wrists to your neck. your body followed closely behind , tethered whimpers loosely dripping off your tongue like sweat beads from your forehead. she guided you to your knees before her , a deathly grip slipping behind your neck with her opposite hand kneading the flesh of your ass.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀she caught each pathetic noise you cried out in her mouth , possessive lips latching onto yours and synchronizing your motion to how rigorously Suguru stroked at his base. his blazing gaze was no help to the burning knot that tore away at your lower organs. he loved nothing more than watching Shoko taunt and torment you from how high and mighty you acted on a daily. no matter how arrogant and egotistical you were , the moment doors were closed , you were nothing more than her pretty little play toy she’d tear down for hours.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀pondering thoughts filed your curiosity. filled each and every corner of you mind as you back tracked on how you thought you had them all figured out. how you truly believed that the night would end with a few prattled kisses from your dear girlfriend. it was the perfect send off, legs not too far from falling off with how inflamed they were. you were so close to allowing the endless void to succumb you. though , of course , Shoko had other plans. like always.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀it was unbeknownst as to how you ended up in such a position when you were just at the foot of the bed , but you were straddling Suguru’s waist, back facing him with Shoko yet again latching the ball gag around your mouth. with furrowed brows curling at her actions , Shoko quickly pecked your feverish cheeks. a subtle 'hm' was earned from you , yet she answered with nothing but silence and a simple head nod. that was tailed by Suguru lifting you above his tip , folds already sinking onto him by the time you processed what her notion was for.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀cries and moans were yet again barricaded by the choker , body falling limp into Shoko’s tender grasp whilst her tedious coos matched your sobs. "such a good girl , jus' like that. s'good for us , pretty." aiding your trembling figure had become a second nature to her with how much she enjoyed seeing you overwhelmed by her demands. it was truly adoring seeing you unfold into nothing more than a play thing for her.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀eyes rolled with each agonizing curl Suguru thrusted into you , they were precise and coordinated perfectly. he knew all your sweet spots just as well as Shoko did , being able to reach them a bit better than her. it was no help that Shoko’s hand had found its way to your clit rubbing circular motions along your sweet bundle of nerves which earned multiple vulgar moans of ecstasy to follow shortly behind.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀if not for her earlier greed and hunger , your body would be as pristine as ever. however , she’d ravaged you like a rabid animal before Suguru could get his hands on you , leading to your body being littered in more hickeys and bite marks than a mated lioness. furthermore , that fact was of no use seeing as she continued her skills along your neck , soaking up each cry you wailed on her shoulder you so dearly clung to throughout the entirety of their abuse.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀clasping flesh and husked groans could only be heard below the penetrating surface of your pitiful wails that clogged every sense the three of you had. Suguru’s firm grasp along you hips only added an extra boost to the euphoric mixture of pain and pleasure. how his calloused hands molded your skin to bare his grip , yet slender fingers extending all the way to your abdomen and delving into the surface , feeling how his thick erection poked at your womb with each buck of his own hips.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀orgasm after orgasm tainted your delicious walls , inner thighs brewing a much deserving fire for how long they’ve been spread over the course of four hours. eyes had begun to find solace within the inner sockets of your skull ; enjoying the comfort complete darkness brought in order to fully submerge you into the undying exhilaration.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀with a final collide of one’s hips , Suguru bottomed out entirely , head tossing back into the silk pillow cases that barricaded his head. hiccups surged through your core once more , the back of your head caressed by none other than Shoko’s delicate touch as she allowed your worn figure to slump into her chest. slumber had beckoned your conscious , weighted eyelids soon flailing to keep afloat.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝐒 𝐇 𝐈 𝐔 𝐉 𝐈
"⠀TAKE IT ALL , PRECIOUS , YER DOIN SO WELL FOR US.⠀"
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀S ─ hrieked cries and tattered moans ricocheted through the dense vents that littered your measly one bedroom apartment , chain-stitches of flesh clapping against one another sown into the noises that reverberated within the core of the master bedroom.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀it was a common occurrence for the battered and decaying apartment complex , knowing good and well that two broad chested men shared the small proximity with a well-spoken woman who had each on a leash , tightly wrapped around her tiny little finger.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"shh~ , shh~ , s'okay. you're doin' so good for us , precious." coarsened palms briskly grazed along the flush of your swollen cheeks , thumb pads soaking up every mascara-ridden tear that dared to bore a burning streak down your flesh.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀though , the tender words of affirmation hadn’t come from the man who laughed in your face at how a contorted expression displayed across your features. they loomed behind your prissy perked ears , rigid breaths fanning the rim of them. the contentment was adding fuel to the fire , his delicate inflection the sparks that raked through the goosebumps across your back.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀if not for your bared teeth tugging at the skim of your lip , you too would add such ruckus to the already crowded air. with every rut and hip buck that was gutted into your palpitating figure , your desire to silence yourself had grown excruciatingly thin. as if you were fighting the urge to smack someone. nonetheless , Toji had taken notice to your prudence , a disheveled grunt rumbling against his chest whilst he guided his thumb into your mouth. rather than remaining like the quiet woman you once were , you’d begun to choke on how he delved the tip of his digit into your tongue , eyes tossing back further than a gymnast at the Olympics.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"g'na mold that pretty pussy of y'ers just how i like it." Toji’s voice was far from being as sweet as Shiu’s , an equally as rough blow being plowed into your ass cheek , a very firm and reddened print forging against your precious skin. he did it just so he could watch as you pathetically gagged along his thick digit , seeping further down your throat and watching the tears of mercy coax your already dampened face.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you’d become accustomed to limp limbs whenever your pretentious lovers got ahold of your body , together. somehow , in some way , they’d always seem to be able to have your arms in their grasp , holding full control over you. even at such a time , Shiu withheld your forearms against the small of your back , spine arching farther than any chiropractor has ever handled you. the threatening grasp steered his abuse on your ass , allowing such vulgar and vigorous attacks on your exploited frame.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀disarrayed grunts synchronized with how he slickly eased through your hole , a white rim of blissful essence coating the base of his dick. looming dreadfully over your exposed back , eager eating away at his darkened eyes which fixated on nothing else but your trembled physique. Toji lied beneath you , equally as lust-fueled as your shared boyfriend , though his crimson gaze yearned for much more than to hear you scream his name.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀with an assailed mind , clouded in nothing more than furious erotica , you continued to bring warmth to their erections that’d scraped every last inch of your walls. they’d uncovered more hidden gems than a palaeontologist. being shoved between their abnormally large chests brought nothing more than unfeigned certainty about your surroundings. time was of the essence and you hadn’t a clue where you were after the first hour had gone by.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"yess~ uh , fuck! jus' keep clenching like that for me , pretty," if there was one thing you loved about Shiu , it’s that just his voice alone could make you cream. he was so gentle , so assertive when it came to you that it made your skin crawl with pure elation.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"look at 'em , look how much of a mess ya turn 'em into with that fuckin' ass of y'ers," , Toji’s fervored tone was merely taunting , large hands grasping your head much of a basketball just to turn you so you’d gaze backwards at Shiu.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the sight alone heated each of your cores , Toji’s grasp returning to your neck as he held you there to watch how Shiu pummeled the girth of his erection into you. the reposition allowed him to release your aching limb , falling helplessly against Toji’s check prior to hoisting your upper body. with a loss of stability both mentally and physically , a pair of dangerously agile palms engraved into the sole of your waist , molding the fat of them into his fingers for an easier grip.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀liquids trickled down Toji’s inner thigh , yet another orgasm spewing from your pretty little cunt as they stuffed you more than a Thanksgiving turkey. sandpaper had replaced the once moisturized flesh within your mouth , mouth being hung open far too long. though , it was to no surprise with how they ravaged and ruined every aspect of your sweet body. the only time where you truly felt like the afterworld was only a knock away was when they unsynchronized their paces , the repetitive thrusts earning more juices to flood your walls than when they spent hours with their faces between your legs.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀replacing Toji’s hand at your throat with his own bicep curling around it , Shiu allowed the man to drag his calloused hands down your exposed body , thumb pads graciously breezing past your nipples on a whim. a surprisingly tender act from none other than Toji Fushiguro himself; lovingly admiring the beauty he claimed and molded perfectly as his own. blazing fingertips glided across the flesh of your breasts , an upward motion being subdue whilst he kneaded them intently.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"f-f-fuck , m'gonna cum~. ohh fuck , please shi~" with an arm pressing firmly into the heat of Shiu’s core , the other grasping at straws against Toji’s bare chest , your eyes zoned in on the ceiling above watching how it rocked back and forth with each belligerent runt they penetrated in you.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"me too , baby , s'okay. m'gonna fill you up so good , promise"
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"g'na make sure that perfect cunt of yours is filled to the brim. jus' how ya like it"
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀both men soothed your worries with their insistence , fingernails clawing at the sheer flesh of each of their bodies. it was no surprise you’d alas hit your inevitable orgasm , both men watching how you froze amidst the high and drenched the sheets below in nothing more than a pool of your juices. well , more than there already was.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀shrilled ecstasy blared from your quavering lips , limp figure collapsing straight into Toji’s grasp that welcomed you with ease. they released quite a bit more steam before likewise liberated themselves within the depths of your holes , grunts and disorderly huffs blazing a trail behind as their own liquids seeped out of you and onto the covers you all laid atop.
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❨ 𝕾. ❩ 𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐓 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒⠀⠀ꪆ◌` ♰⠀⠀mature discretion advised. all rights reserved. do not steal or plagiarize my works.
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crashtestbunny · 14 hours
Text
Highland Games (Captain MacTavish x F!Reader)
CW: So. Much. Smut. Extreme manhandling. Dacryphilia. Arm fucking. Overstimulation. Degradation. Referenced somnophilia. Summary: King MacTavish competes in the Highland Games for the first time in years, all because you promised him a prize he can't refuse. Word Count: 2.4k a/n: I have divided the smut by section lmao if something isn't your fancy you can skip.
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The Highland Games took place in an expansive field of green grass, with the warm, gold summer sun high in the air. Colourful tents and canopies with buntings leaping between supports spanned the entire area, with the centre a dedicated field for the athletics. The people are bustling around with all manner of crafts, livestock, and food and drink while the bands are tuning their instruments in the feasting tent. You wandered around on your own, John having to attend to helping check some of the finer details.
You hadn’t seen your husband compete in these games since he was a young man in his 20’s, but you remember then he had been well sculpted, vivacious, and a showboat. One of the best caper toss competitors, and fierce at the maide-leisg. He could drink anyone under the table then and belted out songs louder than any patriot. A sight to behold.
You see him in the distance – a king, and not one to sneer at. His hair grown out and pulled back with silver clasps, and a well-kept beard, helping to accentuate just how wonderfully blue his eyes are. Not the well-sculpted boy he used to be, he was more impressive now: Broader, muscle made for function and not admiration, soft and gentle to hold at night, but taut and massive at slight pulls on his form. He glances over towards you and sends a warm smile, a look in his eyes ‘Be a moment, bonnie’.
You take your seat in the royal tent, shaded with plush chairs and its own table to dine at. The bagpipes ring out to signify the beginning of the event when John comes into the tent with a goblet of scotch already in hand.
“Are you competing?” You ask with an interested glimmer in your eyes.
“No. I have nothing to compete for.” He chuckles as he takes a sip of his cup, “Have ye, don’t I?”
You let out a huff and he raises an eyebrow at you, “What?” “There’s nothin’ in this for you?”
“Naw, the winner gets a favour: the chieftainship of Stirling. I donnae need a chieftainship, I’m king, bonnie.” He chuckles as he takes another long drink from his cup.
“There’s no favour you could want?”
He raises his eyebrows and grins in amusement, “…Well bonnie… I have all the favour I need from ye.”
You scoff and smirk in amusement, deciding to push his buttons, “All I hear is the King of Scotland won’t compete because he might lose.”
“Excuse me?” He frowns immediately with a wicked glint in his eyes, placing his cup down before crossing his buff arms across his broad chest.
“You heard me, you’re scared that you’ll lose your honour and dignity in front of Scotland.” You push.
“Listen here, dottie.” He grunts, reaching a hand out to curl his rough fingers under your chin, his thumb digging into the cleft in warning, “I will compete. I will win. And fer every win I have, I’ll be claimin’ yer favour. I’ll be claimin’ it until ye cannae walk, am I understood?”
Squirming in your seat, you cross your legs as you feel something coil in your stomach at his words, “Yes, your majesty.”
He smirks and leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, “That’s a good lass, gonnae be so good fer me.”
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The caber toss is the first event lined up. John approaches the field, shucking his short jacket and peasant blouse off to reveal his burly form, the dark coarse hair on his chest travels down to a pleasant happy trail that disappears below his kilt. The pudge on the stomach hangs over the kilt ever so slightly, but as he bends to assess the cabers on offer you watch the skin ripple and the trained abdomen poke through, only made better as he settles on one of the heavier cabers.
His large hands grip the narrow tip and then squatting down he hoists the caber up onto his strong shoulders vertically, his biceps and triceps flexing in a display of pure raw strength. His face is calm and quietly confident while the rest of his competitors begin to break a sweat already, red flushed faces surrounding him as he effortlessly lifts this 148-pound tree trunk.
Lightly jogging up to the marker and then planting his feet, his hard calves and thighs flexing as he powers the momentum from his legs up through his body to toss this thing like it weighs nothing, 22 feet flipping over twice from his careful and exceptional technique. Your breath hitches in your chest as he looks over his shoulder at you with a wicked, smug, little grin.
His strong legs are planted into the ground, with his safe arms on the backs of your knees, bringing them up to your chest, his rough hands locked on the back of your neck as he lifts you up and down on his girthy cock. You let out delectable screams of delight as your gummy walls cling to his cock as he drops you on it over and over, pounding it against that pleasurable spot inside you, bullying into your cervix until you’re close to tears.
“Tha’s it, bonnie, just let me toss ye – weigh nothin’ tae me.” He grunts into your ear as he runs the sensitive lobe between his teeth and sucks on the soft flesh.
He suddenly shifts his angle and then his leaking tip is pounding directly against that little spot that makes you see stars and your jaw goes slack. His lips are on your neck, sucking possessive purple marks into the flesh as he hammers into you, making the coil in the bottom of your abdomen wind tighter.
“John John John don’t stop don’t fuckin-!” you cry out as your eyes begin to roll back, your pussy clenching around his hard cock as he drops you onto it in a brutal pace.
“Didnae plan tae… won’ stop ‘til I’ve won every event, Bonnie.” He chuckles through his moan as his own orgasm is nipping at his pleasure, “Now cmon, need ye to cum fer me, lass, need to feel yer wee cunny flutter around me cock, give me yer favour, gorgeous.”
You let out a desperate, orgasming cry at his encouragement as your swollen pussy clenches around his length and you squirt, your thighs twitching violently in pleasure as he continues to use you as a fleshlight through your orgasm. Then you feel the first of many orgasms filling you up, warm, sticky seed pouring into your pussy only to leak down and join the ring of cream you’ve left around the base of his cock.
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You’re still sore and aching between your legs by the time the next event is lined up; the maide-leisg. A tug-of-war style event where the men sit with the soles of their feet together and a stick held by them both in the middle, then they both pull and the person to raise to their feet first is the loser. You see the other male competitors aren’t even daring to look at their king, whether it be for the sheer mass of him or because you shouldn’t disrespect your monarch is up for debate.
Eventually MacTavish grabs the biggest competitor as his partner – a man taller than him and rotund, a challenge indeed if John plays his cards wrong.
The whistle rings out and all the men are trying their best, pulling on the stick, some even pushing on it – a battle of intelligence to those more experienced. Glancing over at John, you see him red in the face as he focuses, pulling on the stick in quick bursts, making his biceps dance and the veins in his forearms pop. He digs his heels into the soft green earth and uses his thick legs to generate strength needed to force the other man upright. Your jaw drops as you witness John let out a guttural roar and with one firm tug on the stick and his legs planted firmly, he forces the men upright and nearly toppling on top of him with the sheer force of the movement. The first to get his opponent upright – the winner of this competition too.
You find yourself connected at the pelvis to John, your glistening cunt swallowing his cock as both yours and his legs are spread out in an X shape either side of each other, your thighs resting atop of his, making every roll of the hips feel invasive, like he’s rearranging your guts. He’s holding firmly onto your forearms, his rough hands giving you no manner to escape as he tugs on your arms to pull you onto his cock every time he rocks his hips.
“Go’wan lass, give a wee pull back.” He taunts as he jerks your arms making you take a relentless pace of his cock drilling into your used pussy, drawing cries and whimpers of pleasure from your lips.
“No John- can’t can’t- I can’t-“ you babble helplessly with tears springing to your eyes, your muscles feel too lax and tense at the same time, threatening to combust in bliss. You have no control over them and he knows it.
Stops. He stops moving just as you felt your orgasm about to embrace you. You begin to sob. Desperate, whiny little thing.
“If ye want it lass, ye gottae play the game.” He tuts with a gentle smile.
Realising he means it you pull against his firm hold, and he holds steady, allowing you to set the pace and fuck yourself onto his cock and you cry in relief as it pounds back into that sweet spot that was bringing so close to the precipice of delirium.
“Tha’s it lassie, be competin’ yerself soon enough.” He moans out as you fuck yourself stupid on his cock, brutally pounding your pelvises together as you cover his in your glistening pleasure. Each time you connect at the base of his cock he makes a point to roll his hips and bounce you on his strong thighs, hitting every spot inside you that brings fat tears rolling down your cheeks from relief.
“I’m gonnae- oh fuck John I’m gonnae cum!” you squeal out and he takes that as his cue to tighten the grip on your arms and pull – smashing your pelvis impossibly tight to his as he rolls his hips, and you see stars – electric shooting up your spine as your muscles twitch in pure orgasmic bliss.
The sight of you so fucked out and delirious was enough to bring John to his own orgasm, his heavy balls tightening as he empties them inside you once again, filling you up to the point you whimper from overstimulation.
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Wobbling along the fence of the event field, you hold onto the wood for balance, watching as the men are being told the exact rules of the next competition: sheaf tossing. All they had to do was toss heavy bundles of hay over the bar, and the bar would raise each round until the last man was left.
While many men start by using the pitchfork to get the necessary height for the lower height, you watch as your husband simply lifts a bale onto his steady, broad shoulders. Then he squats down and pushes up and stretches the arms out, his whole burly body contorting into a Herculean display of manhood as the golden sheaf is tossed like a feather over the bar.
It’s only when the bar is raised halfway does John turn to the pitchfork for those extra few inches it can squeeze out of a throw. One by one men eliminate themselves, not having the base strength or correct momentum and thus knocking the bar down. Until it’s just John, with the biggest, smuggest, smile in the world. His blue eyes twinkling as he looks at you, and you squirm.
He's laughing at you; the smug bastard is laughing at you as you’re sat pretty on his bicep that he’s resting on the table. It glistens as you drag your eager pussy over the strong muscle, and he flexes it to push tight against your clit and stimulate it.
“C’mon bonnie” he purrs, “Want you to lather me arm up in yer pretty wee cunny’s juices – show me how much ye appreciate me strength.”
You whimper and drag your puffy cunt across the taut muscle and moan loudly, oversensitive and abused that every little bit of pressure lets you see stars. Then you cry out as a rough, calloused thumb circles around your swollen clit.
“Look at ye, so desperate to cum again that yer bouttae do it on me arm – pathetic wee bonnie.” He coos with a smug smile as you moan loudly with your head thrown back as he continues to play with your begging clit.
“John- John- no!” You weep out and he groans in delight, “No I’m gonna- I can’t- It hurts too good!” You sob, your body seeking another release like an itch on your hand, and yet it’s agonising, a dull and aching throb that can only be satisfied by your orgasm.
He flicks the clit with his thumb and you writhe on his bicep, grinding your pathetic pussy into it which only rocks your hips back onto his fingers, now caught in a cycle of chasing your own pleasure while your husband leans up to kiss away each fat, delirious tear, “s’alright, gorgeous – let go. I’ll be here, I’ll be right here if you let go.” He says in a bassy purr that coaxes you into a soft mind.
Your jaw drops as you chase that edge and moan loudly as you tip over it, squirting across your husband’s arm as you convulse and fall forward onto his safe broad shoulders. He’s there. You hear his heartbeat as he lifts you onto his lap.
“I’m naw done yet bonnie.” He warns, as he lifts his kilt and taps his heavy cock against your abused slit, making you squirm – no other thoughts other than bruising and more more more and tired, so tired.
“I wonnae disturb ye.” He reassures as he pushes in, much more gentle as he massages your thighs, “Go’wan, get yer rest, lass, I’ll finish up and take care of ye.” He kisses your cheeks, fully sheathed in your tight heat as your eyes can’t make themselves open from exhaustion.
You were the real winner of the Highland Games.
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sturnad · 2 days
Text
SPINE
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Pairing: y/n and Matt Sturniolo
Summary: Basically friends to lovers. You and the triplets were always close but secretly you had a soft spot for Matt.
Warning: smut, hair pulling, creampie, p in v, matt x fem!reader, kissing, teasing, touching..idkk helpp
I knew the triplets since birth because our parents knew eachother. They are like brothers to me but for some reason Ive always had someting for Matt. I always had a soft spot for him.
One day the triplets invited me over to their house for a movie night.
I obviously got ready, threw on a t-shirt with an open back and some gray sweatpants. After I got ready I sat on my bed waiting for them to come and pick me up.
5 minutes pass by and I get a call from Matt and for some reason my heart starts racing. I pick up "Yeah.. hi?" i say. "Im here come on.." he spoke. "Yeah ill be there in a minute." i quickly answered before showering myself in parfume. I threw on some shoes and walked out.
I sat in the car and noticed that its just Matt. I looked over at him with confusion but I didnt say anything and make things awkward. "Hey Matt!!" i greeted him in excitement, he smiled "hii, you excited...?" he said while i started buckling up. "yeah" i said when i leaned over to the side to buckle up he noticed my spine tatto flashing right into his eyes out of mine open-back t-shirt. His eyes widened and he smirked. As I got back up he put on a joker face and acted like he didnt see anything..
-
After a 10 minute ride we finally arrived and walked in. "Hey guyss!" i yelled over and waved to Nick and Chris who sat on the couch choosing the movie. They looked up and smiled "heyy!".
Me and Matt both joined them and got comfy.
-
After a good hour of the movie i noticed that Matt got really close to me but I didnt mind..
He picked up a blanket that was curled up on the corner of the couch.
"You cold?" he asked me. I looked over at him and smile "a little bit". He noded and placed the blanket over us. He tucked me in and then focused on the movie again. As he was tucking me in and getting me warm i couldnt help but feel butterflies.
-
The movie was coming to an end and he was pressed up to me at this point. I got brave and slowly laid my head down on his shoulder. He smirked. Little did i know that was not the end.
10 minutes left of the movie, he scooted closer and wrapped his arm around my waist, his other hand going up and down on my back. My heart raced and my cheeks were red. I smiled to myself and all of a sudden I felt a hand on my hip slidding down to my thighs. Matt suddenly slipped his hand under my sweatpants, rubbing my thigh. I started breathing faster and inside i was going feral.
All of a sudden Nick and Chris said; "guys were gonna go to sleep..". Me and Matt both nodded as they walked over to their rooms looking at us suspiciously. The door closed, i turned back to Matt and saw him smirking at me while still rubbing my thigh. "You like that sweetheart?" he said. I nodded with no hesitation. He took his other hand and placed it on my cheek, caressing it slowly. "You know what i like?" he said with a smirk. "Hm?" I said as i looked up at him,
"That spine tatto.." he answered while running his finger down my back.
My mind went crazy. I looked at him with a grin appearing on my face. I got my mind together and finally spoke up. "Wanna look at it constantly huh?" he noded and grinned. I slowly slid up from the blanket and turned my back to him, I slightly bend over. He smirked and leaned closer, pulling my sweatpants off.
He pulled my panties to the side while taking his pants off with another hand. "God youre.. wet. Already?" he grinned. "Yea.." i responed. I looked down at the couch and all of a sudden i felt someting hit my clit, I let out a soft moan as Matt slapped my butt. He was going up and down with his other hand twisting around his dick. I smirked and looked down again and suddenly he inserted his dick in my pussy. I let out a soft moan. He grabbed my hair from behind while going in n out, his thighs slapping on my butt.
"Shh. Dont be loud sweetie" he said while going faster with one hand pulling my hair and the other one holding on to my waist. I moaned softly and smirked when I heard the nickname.
He went even faster now the smacks from his thighs hitting my ass got louder. "oh matt.." i said with my mouth hanging open. "you like that huh?" he whimpered.
"i- yeah...more, faster" i said. "more? faster? youre not so innocent after all." he whimpered while going even faster.
"matt.. i- im gonna..cum" i told him while my mouth was still hanging open. "yeah. cum on my dick baby.." i noded as he said that. he pushed in one more time and i squirted. he smirked "yeah.." while he pulled his dick out. I sighed.."oh my.. god".
he put his pants and boxers back on "im gonna clean you up okay, wait there.." he said. I noded and waited for him. He went and got some paper and towels and wipped the cum that was dripping down on my thighs. He picked me up and took me to the bathroom. He washed me and himself up and got me some fresh clothes.
-
Later on we cuddled on the couch, i leaned closer to him pressing my lips against his. He smiled as we pulled back. "can i be honest with you matt?", he noded.
"well ive actually had some kind of feelings for you ever since we met"
Matts eyes widen.. "really?"
"yes, really.."
"i could say the same for you.." he smiled.
"i really like you Matt.."
"so i hit a soft spot huh?" he chuckled
i chuckled back and noded
"im kidding.. i like you too.." he said
i smiled as my eyes lit up
"come here.." he said.
We cuddled for the rest of the night before we both fell asleep..
The end.
OKAYYY WHAT DO WE THINKK??
Im not sure how i feel about it cause its my first time writing smut so i dont know if its up the standards but i hope you guys liked it.
Please like n reblog cause i spent a lot of time on this..
If you dont like it, scroll. If you think its inappropriate, scroll.
NIGHT SHIFT P2 coming tomorrow..
TAGS:
@imwetforyourmom @slut4mattsturn
@junnniiieee07 @uhnanix @pxndaaa
@thebottledwatersupplier @h3arts4harry
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yandere-writer-momo · 22 hours
Note
Here me out…
Lesbian/Male Yan who’s a Hair Stylist who uses their big, masculine hands to move your head so they can cut, iron/curl and style your hair THEIR way
And their so big and masculine too, their appearance is so scary and stoic that they rarely ever get any customers, except you, their cute childhood friend/newcomer who just moved here who’s nice enough to even tell them to choose the style for you!
DID SOMEONE SAY LESBIAN 🤤🤤🤤🤤
Yandere Short Stories:
For Those Who Wait
Yandere Butch Hairdresser x Fem Reader
TW: stalking, yandere behavior, unhealthy relationship dynamic, obsession, isolation, wlw dynamic, blood, and murder (mentioned)
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(Your name) sighed dreamily while Char ran her large fingers through her scalp. A smile on her lips at the soothing sensation of conditioner being lathered up on her scalp. (Your name) swore Char’s fingers were like magic.
“Does that feel good, meine Liebe?” Char huskily whispered from above (your name). Her German accent was thick and her voice was a raspy tenor. A deep voice for a masculine woman. “Schatz, my fingers could do so much more than just massaging dein (your) scalp.”
(Your name)’s eyes fluttered open to gaze at Char’s tender expression. Char was a woman of immense size and intimidation. The various scars that littered Char’s face did little to deter (your name)‘s fondness of her hair dresser. Who cared about Char’s past when she was so talented with hair? (Your name) never felt prettier unless she was in Char’s care.
“You do more than enough for me. You always style my hair perfectly.” (Your name) gave Char a giant grin. “Plus, my head fits perfectly in your hands.”
If (your name) would have paid better attention, she would have noticed the way Char quickly shut her muscles legs together for some friction.
Was it wrong for this hairdresser to feel such an intense attraction toward her client? To want to press her lips all over (your name)’s while (your name) sat sprawled out on Char’s lap while she cut their client’s hair- Jesus. Char once again let fantasy slip into reality.
Char hummed, her palms rinsed the conditioner off (your name)‘s scalp with warm water. The suds drained down the drain of the rinsing station.
“Let’s head into the dryer. Are you thirsty, Mein liebes Mädchen?” Char asked (your name), which made the smaller woman smile.
“I’d love something to drink, Char. You know I’m happy with whatever you pick.” Char nodded and placed (your name) into the dryer and lowering the device on her head.
“I’ll go get that then, meine Liebe. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
(Your name) watched Char saunter off with a bit of pep in her step. Char was such an interesting character. It was a shame (your name) was her only client…
Char went into the back and nearly collapsed on the floor. Her precious client loved whatever she picked! Gods it made her knees so weak. Char felt like a school girl in love again!
Char shook her head and regained her senses. The giant woman opened up the fridge and grabbed a bottle of champagne to pour for (your name).
(Your name) was always so sweet, she deserved the best! And Char had plenty of money from her past as a contract killer. (Your name) would be in good hands once she accepted Char’s love!
(Your name) was new to this town so of course she didn’t know this town was full of ex assassins. It was refreshing to be treated like a human being again!
Char took in a deep breath and poured the champagne into a plastic cup. Her steel blue eyes studied the glass in interest. (Your name) trusted her so it wouldn’t be odd to press her lips against the glass, right? It’d be like an indirect kiss!! There wasn’t anything odd about that…
Char pressed her scarred lips against every inch against the glass’s rim. There was nothing weird about what she was doing… she was just a woman in love.
Char shuddered at the thought of pressing her lips against (your name)’s… but she had to be patient! Char knew her feelings tended to be overwhelming. And she didn’t want to scare away her precious client!
Char brought the glass to (your name) and smiled at the young woman who swung her legs back and forth in the chair. What a good girl.
“I have your drink.”
Yes… she’d be patient. For good things came to those who wait.
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lis-likes-fics · 3 days
Text
Princess II
Pairings: Eddie Munson x rich!Reader Word Count: 18k words Warnings: Slow burn, swearing, tooth-rotting fluff, strangers to best friends to lovers... A/N: This was so much fun to write. It took like....over a year to finish this two-parted but it's done and I love them so much. They're literally idiots. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. Thank you! (And a special thanks to my beta reader, you're amazing!)
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The months pass smoothly, and soon you've been incorporated into aspects of Eddie's life that you've dreamt of for years.
It started with you ditching the cheerleading squad at lunch to go sit with Eddie and his friends. They were so sweet to you, if not a little flirty. Dustin was always eager to see you at lunch, showing off his intelligence or quick-wit any chance he got. He was all smiles, treating you like his cool aunt who got him just about anything he asked for because you liked to spoil him.
Mike was also excited, but he was also a little more open to accepting gifts and things from you. But he was the middle child in his family, so you kind of expected it.
Gareth, Fred, and Jeff all had similar reactions. Though Fred was more skeptical of having a girl like you in the group, you were easy to warm up to. Gareth and Fred constantly flirted with you, but you suspect they did it more for Eddie's annoyance than yours. You warmed up to them.
But Eddie.
The first day you went to sit with them, he'd made one of his buddies get up and move so you could sit next to him. It was a complete change in fondness, like his comfortability to you had skyrocketed to the other end of his kindness.
He included you in every chat, asked questions that weren't awkward but let him and the group get to know you. You really felt comfortable there, like one of them. You expected to feel a little off, but you didn't. They were so kind.
Everyone sneered for a while. The first couple of days were full of glares and snickers from those of other tables. But the longer you sat there, the less people cared. Whatever. You could do what you want, you're the princess. Eddie's comments on how people pick on him and his friends dwindled, though it never fully disappeared.
The squad wasn't so happy, not that you cared. They talked about it to your face and behind your back. It always got back to you of course, Chrissy kept you updated.
You actually managed to pull Chrissy a couple of times to sit with you and Eddie. She enjoyed it just as much as you.
Soon you started joining them during their campaigns. You just sat out and watched at first, serving as their cheerleader, until Eddie pulled you in by your waist, sat you down next to him like you always do now, and let you join in as any character of your choosing. You were an orc named Bill.
The longer you were friends with Eddie, the closer you got, and you loved every second. You went from sitting at his lunch table to playing campaigns with him to regularly going to his house (to the point where you could walk in and Wayne would wave and point down the hall where Eddie sat in his room) to spending just about every day glued to his side, his inseparable friend.
Eddie had always wanted a friend like that, though he'd never admit it, adamant on maintaining his reputation as a freakish outsider who didn't need anyone, who adopted all the other losers into his band of rejects.
He'd always wanted someone who loved spending that much time with him. He's way more happy than he'd like to admit that you haven't gotten tired of him yet.
Spring break comes and goes. You spend the whole of it with Eddie, except for the one day your parents decided to take you to one of the charity events in town. You spent the whole of it with Chrissy in a pretty dress that Eddie said he liked—considering she was in the same class as you and your parents were close friends.
You learned a lot of things over the time you spent as Eddie's friend.
You learned that every time he's asked what his favorite color is, he says black or red just to be edgy when, really, it's baby blue.
You learned that he loves pizza, he could finish an entire pie by himself in under ten minutes. Then he'd smile at you with his face covered in pizza sauce and you'd feel like you were going to puke, you're so in love.
He claims to be ambidextrous, but you've seen his left-handed penmanship and there's nothing ambidextrous about it. He likes loud, thundering music, but you've seen him turn into a softy from the slow, quiet kinds you never thought he'd be into. He lifts sometimes, revealing to you how lean he actually was when you walked in on him shirtless in his room once with weights in his hands.
You'd left the room to recuperate. He'd teased you about it for weeks.
He's terrible at math but he's a decent writer, he's a nice singer—and you melt every time you hear him sing, no matter the genre—he can draw, he can read three different books in one week, he cannot cook, but he can boil the hell out of some water. Wayne was very happy when you showed up in Eddie's life and started cooking for them.
You watched him learn the entirety of Metallica's new song, Master of Puppets, in under a month.
Choosing to become Eddie's friend was a terrible decision in only one way: every single day, he gives you more and more reason to fall deeper in love with him. Your heart is so full, you think you'll die.
You don't know if Eddie knowing that you like him is better or worse. On one hand, he knows he definitely has the option if he really wants it. On the other, he doesn't know just how much you have fallen and him being him tears you apart from the inside out.
But if this is the closest you'll get to him, you'll gladly burn inside just to get the chance to hold his hand.
~
After pulling up in front of your house, Eddie opens your door like a gentleman so you can make him study for a test he had that you knew he wouldn't do otherwise. He slung your bag over one shoulder, grabbing his own to do on the other side.
"Wait!" you tell him as he's slamming the door. You rush inside, smiling wide as you disappear into the house. Eddie follows you, taking his sweet time about it. You're already running down the stairs as he reaches the door after finally walking the length of your huge driveway.
You come out with your hands behind your back, smiling too big for your face as you look at him. He raises a brow, dropping both your backpacks inside by the door and leaning to the side. His knee pops out, making him look as sassy as he probably feels.
"Another gift?" he asks, almost exasperated as he recognizes that sticky sweet smile on your face. He loves it but the amount of gifts you shower him with is insane sometimes.
"Are you trying to buy my love or something?" he teases. "Is this a bribe, Princess?" He lifts his brow ridiculously high and lowers his voice ridiculously low, as if talking in secret.
You roll your eyes at his theatrics. "Don't be ridiculous," you shake your head. "It's a gift."
He shrugs a shoulder. "Same difference."
You scoff. "Shut up and close your eyes." He makes a teasing snort but does as he's told. You bite the very tip of your lip. "Hold out your hands." He does it.
You pull the long, yellow envelope from behind your back, tied with a thin white ribbon to make the most exaggerated bow he'd ever see. You watch his brows change at the feeling of the paper in his hands, curiosity leaking out.
"Now open."
He does. Looking down at the envelope, he raises a brow and stares at it, as though it would open on command. He fingers the glued down flap of the letter and glances at you with hesitant eyes. "What is this?"
He pulls the glue free and begins to pull out two, just as long, slips of laminated paper. Looking up at you, he can see how bubbly you were with the excitement to show him your latest gifts. Or "bribes", as he liked to call them—all out of good fun!... you think.
The words pour from your lips. "Two backstage tickets to Metallica next week!" You bring it back once the biggest part of the reveal was said. "They're on tour, and I know you like them."
He stares at you with wide eyes, but he doesn't smile. You wait for his grateful reply for a while before what you are met with is a loud, "What?"
Your excitement turns to shivering fear as you stare, worried. "Is it the wrong band?" Suddenly, all the worst scenarios you worried about come to mind. "Shit, did I mess up?" You start mumbling to yourself. "I know I checked and then double checked. Maybe the tickets are wrong. Fuck, what did I do—?"
He stops you with his heavy hands on your shoulders, weighing you down but also providing a lot of comforting warmth as he looks you in the eye with the same level of intensity. "You got me V.I.P. tickets to see Metallica perform?"
"In Indianapolis, yes."
He stares at you a moment longer before he's shoving you to his chest, his arms wrapping around you and keeping you flush against his body. The hug is warm and enveloping and much too close for friendship, and you hug him back just as closely, almost feeling as though you could cry of how wonderful it felt to have his scent all around you, his arms around your waist, his crazy hair tickling your face and shoulders.
After a beat too long, he's hoisting you off your feet and spinning you in a circle that has your body flying for a moment. He sets you down as you're both giggling, and when he pulls back to see you, his lips are set in the biggest smile you have ever seen. The breath is knocked from your lungs as you stare wide-eyed at him, and whatever was left slips out when his thumbs smooth circles along your sides as his hands stay set on your waist.
"You are fucking amazing," he says too fondly.
You gaze warmly at him, feeling your heart skipping too many beats. You need to go to the hospital.
Then his whole demeanor changes once more as his face drops into near frustration. "And extravagant," he adds suddenly. "Why the fuck did you get these for me?"
You honestly expected his hands to leave you by now, but they stayed at your sides with the envelope held between his fingers. You set your hands on his arms, shrugging as you smile earnestly.
"For us," you say, hoping not to scare him away with that. "Because I wanted to do something special for you. You deserve it."
Eddie doesn't know what he's done to deserve something as special as this, but he just smiles down at it with the joy of a little boy getting a dog he's been wanting all his life for his birthday. You hear him curse under his breath.
"I gotta go tell Wayne," he beams. He scoops you into his arms again, squeezing tighter this time as he laughs happily, his elation infecting you. He sets you down, looking over your face. He's moving and speaking faster than you think he thinks he is, but it just makes you smile some more.
"Ah, I fuckin' love you. I'll see you later!" He tears away from you, turning around and sprinting toward his van to drive haphazardly down the road to get back to his uncle. He's waving at you through the window as he pulls away.
Meanwhile, you stand at the door with wide eyes and stilled breath, frozen on the porch. His words replay in your head like a mantra, like a prayer that you've been waiting for as you smile a little.
"He loves me," you sigh. Then you shake your head, hoping not to be as delusional as you feel. "Just a figure of speech..." you chew your lip, "probably..." you furrow your brows, "most likely."
You sigh as you shake and bow your head. "I'm talking to myself again."
You turn on your heel and set a course down the sidewalk, walking a few houses down with fast feet and an even quicker beating heart. Four doors down, you come up the path to Chrissy's house and start repeatedly pounding on the door, because it was more dramatic than letting yourself in.
You hear her as she approaches the door because she yells, "Y/N, I'm coming!"
The door opens and Chrissy stands on the other side with a raised brow and a sigh. She sees you standing there with your conflicted look as she furrows her brow. "What happened?"
You walk past her, venturing into the house and walking right up the stairs as she follows behind you, unphased as she closes the door. "I gave the tickets to Eddie."
"And?" she asks as she follows you up the stairs.
"He loved them," you say over your shoulder, shrugging. "He was, like, super excited."
She smiles wide, her whole face lights up. "That's great!"
You get to the top of the stairs on your way to her room, stopping at one of the doors prior and knocking gently before pushing it open. "Hi, Carter."
The boy looks at you and smiles wide, waving his hand as he returns his greeting. You smile back and close the door, instantly falling back into your contemplation as you burst into Chrissy's room and plopped down at the edge of her bed.
"So," she prompts. "Is it a date?"
You furrow your brow, granting her a confused look. "What? No, don't be ridiculous."
She rolls her eyes, "Right..."
"But he..." you trail off, chewing on your lower lip as you keep thinking to yourself, replaying the moment over and over and over again with the over-analysis of a skilled theorist.
"What?" she asks, urging you to finally spit it out.
"He, like," you look at her and release your lip in favor of speaking as you try and fail not to smile at the memory—as though it was a cherished thing that had been living in your brain for years. She follows the loose narration your hands give as you speak. "He picked me up and spun me around and said something about telling his uncle, and then..."
You hesitate to say it, hiding your face a little behind your hands. Chrissy sighs heavily, playfully impatient with your slowly developing, weird relationship with Eddie. "What? What did he do?"
You blush and smile too wide. Your face hurts. "He said 'I fuckin' love you', and then drove off." You're suddenly really giddy. "He said he fuckin' loves me!" You beam at Chrissy before quickly backtracking. "I know it was probably just a figure of speech or something, right? Like, he doesn't actually love me, he was just super happy. Heat of the moment. Right?"
This left your mouth as a word vomit and, honestly, Chrissy just watched you with a wide range of emotions crossing her face. Confusion, joy, passive frustration, hints of awaiting sarcasm...
She shrugs a shoulder, sitting next to you on the bed and attempting to soothe your scorching nerves. "I mean, probably, but you spend so much time together... who knows," she smiled wide suddenly, "maybe he's coming around."
Your grin is hopeful, your eyes glisten as you smile at her and she smiles wider and chuckles at the look. "You think so?"
"Sure!" she exclaims, eager to get you to the optimistic side of things.
"Maybe you're right," you nod to assure yourself, hoping that saying it out loud will bring it into existence. "Maybe you're right." You breathe in and out and sit up straight, nodding once more before you turn your gaze to Chrissy again. You take her hands in yours and squeeze gently. "The concert's next week, I need you to help me get ready."
"Absolutely," she beams. "You couldn't pay me not to help."
You wrap your arms around her neck and pull her into a bone-crushing hug. Chrissy, a native to your affection, takes it with an excited laugh and no acknowledgement to your strength.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
"Of course," she smiles, before pulling out of your arms and waving a playfully scolding finger at your face. "But you owe me."
You shrug. "I always do." You think for a moment. "We'll get lunch and go to the mall. Check out that store you like. An outfit of your choice, my treat."
"Deal," she said immediately. Rolling her eyes and smiling, she sighs dreamily. "I love leeching off rich people."
You roll your own eyes, not as dreamily. "You're also rich, Chris."
She shrugs, letting her shoulders sag lazily at her sides like a ragdoll. "I know, but you're my bitch."
You gasp dramatically. "Christina Elizabeth Cunningham! You watch your language."
She snorts. "Bitch, please."
You shove her back onto the bed and start for her kitchen. You're hungry and you're sure she hasn't eaten yet...
~
You close your locker with a snap. As you look up, you notice Tommy H on the other side, staring you down with an unimpressed look upon his face. You can see the rest of his group surrounding his locker to peer into the conversation, looking like a flock of pigeons—all bulgy eyes and flicking heads.
You sigh internally and turn to him, smiling as sweetly as you always do. "Hey, Tommy." You check your watch quickly.
"Hi," he says back, feeling slick.
You move your bag from your side to place your science books in, glancing at him as you do it. "Is there something I can help you with? I gotta get to class."
He leans his shoulder against the wall, crossing one leg over the other and stuffing his hands in the pockets of his lettermen. He shrugs his shoulders heavily, and your eyes fall on his Class of '85 patch—where it should now read '86 after an unfortunate grade point average in his last, slacked off year.
"You're hanging out with Munson now?" He raises a brow.
You sling your bag back over your shoulder. "Yeah?" You raised your brow, failing to see his point. "Is that supposed to be a problem or something?"
"I mean..." he trails off, laughing lightly like it's obvious. You just stare at him, almost looking clueless as he stumbles over his words to try and come up with an argument. He shrugs, "It's Munson."
You make a face. He scoffs.
"I mean, you seriously blew off a game for him?"
Oh. That makes more sense.
You've been hanging out with Eddie for months, and they haven't commented that much because you could do whatever you wanted because you... well, you're you.
But you did kiss the game last night. It wasn't a really serious one—at least, you don't think it was—and Eddie had a huge campaign he practically begged you to go to, and you accepted because you loved his campaigns way more than a stupid game (that, and the fact that you're head over heels in love with him). You told Chrissy, she covered for you.
You shrug. "We lost the game."
He scrambled for a comeback. "Yeah? Well, maybe we wouldn't have if you had been there. It's called moral support sweetheart."
You straighten your back and try not to make a face, continuing to remain friendly as you close your eyes. "First of all, don't call me that." He shrugs. "Second, there will be more games and more hangouts and whatever else. I'm hanging out with Eddie Munson, so what? He's my friend."
He scowls. "He's Eddie Munson."
You make a face, confusion raising your brow and lip. You pause, waiting for a follow-up. "You say that like it's supposed to prove a point."
Tommy scoffs. "Okay, how about this?" He towers over you, his elbow propped high up on your locker in an attempt to intimidate you. His red-freckled face is stern. "He's a freak."
He nearly spits the word in your face, and he smirks when he does it.
You tilt your head and smile.
"How about this..." You clear your throat and brush imaginary lint from his lettermen. "If you call Eddie a freak one more time," you look up at his face again, smiling a little sweeter and speaking a little slower, "I will personally see to it that my parents stop inviting yours to our parties."
His face pales.
"You'll be moved to our blacklist. From there, people will stop respecting you. And, by then, you'll be scrambling to get back in with us, and you'll look desperate doing it." Your eyes darken but your smile is perfectly intact as you watch his fear overcome him.
"I'll work you so far to the bottom that even the name Munson will hold less disdain in this town than Hagan." Your smile drops. You look cold.
"Do I make myself clear?"
He swallows thickly, finding his voice again after cracking on his first attempt. "Yeah." He clears his throat. "Yes."
"Great!" You clap once as you smile brightly once more. The warning bell cracks loudly, echoing through the halls with a shrill screech. Both you and the bell startle him as he flinches, sighing heavily as you pat your shoulder twice. "Thank you. Don't be late for class."
He hesitates, shaking his head and walking away to rejoin his posse pretending to not have been listening in to the conversation. "Yeah," he mumbles as you watch him leave.
"That was scary."
You turn and smile wide when you see Eddie, leaning on the lockers with an impressed look. "I can be very scary," you joke.
"Tell me about it." He rolls his eyes, and you lightly smack his shoulder at the insinuation. You both start walking down the hall to your shared science class. "What was that about?"
You glance over your shoulder to where Tommy and his friends are walking away, throwing half-hearted scowls at Eddie over their shoulders.
"Oh," you say, smiling to yourself almost maliciously. You shock Eddie for a moment with the brief look. "Just a little... nudge in the right direction."
His whole demeanor changes as he turns his body to face you, walking still as his feet side step to keep up with you. "Did you just threaten Tommy H for me?"
"'Course," you smile. "We're friends, Eddie, and I protect my friends... even if that means destroying social lives forever."
He sighs a laugh. "Startin' to think you like destroying social lives."
You both walk into class together just as the bell rings, moving to your seats as you lean in and whisper dramatically. "Only when they're assholes."
He gasps, clutching his imaginary pearls. "Has her majesty just spoiled her tongue with the dirty language of the peasants?" he exclaims quietly in his best posh, British accent.
"I'm afraid she has," you play along in an accent of your own, though it's not as perfect as his. He's got an impeccable accent. "It can be quite hard to keep one's tongue guarded when met with the incompetence of the lower class, or even that of the upper."
He snorted, "Then, forgive me, my liege. I shall do my best to keep you away from the clutches of the incompetent."
You both laugh quietly amongst yourselves.
"Remind me never to get on your bad side," he snorts again, shaking his head with a seeking shudder.
You wink at him. "Never get on my bad side."
You direct your attention to the teacher. Eddie watches the side of your face and laughs again, shaking his head and readjusting after spending too much time taking in the sight of the side of your face.
You're pretty. He hopes he never gets on your bad side.
~
With Chrissy out with Jason, you have no one to calm your nerves as the time for Eddie to come pick you up grows closer. You've already dressed in the clothes you both picked out, she'd done your makeup before she had to leave, and you're walking around your room in your heels as you await his arrival.
You check yourself in the mirror one last time before the sound of your doorbell echoes through the house. You grab your stuff faster than you've ever done anything in your life, rushing down the stairs dangerously fast in your heels and throwing the front door open before your father's hand can even brush the handle.
Upon seeing you answer, he decides to walk away. Whatever you want...
You open the door and smile wide at Eddie, ignoring how nervous you feel at the sight of yourself. You feel sort of...out of place. This isn't your vibe but you are hoping he likes it anyway.
Eddie's eyes bulge and his mouth drops open.
He takes you in. Dressed head to toe in leather, he eyes your little red skirt and your black bustier top decorated with red roses. It looks so tight, he wonders how you're still able to breathe. You've got a garter belt wrapped tightly around your thigh, just peeking out from under your skirt, in more black leather. In knee high platforms, you've gone up a couple more inches in height. Even your makeup, with sharp wings, a tiny eyeliner heart on the apple of your cheek, and red lipstick a dark shade of blood.
Eddie feels like he just fell fifty feet and smacked his face on concrete, knocking all the air from his lungs and making it impossible to breathe. You are drop dead gorgeous.
"Wow."
You don't take it as well as he expected, nerves sinking in as you look over yourself quickly, wiping your hands down the skirt. "Too much?"
He shakes his head. "You look..." he trails off, lost in thought before shaking his head to bring himself back, "great. Really great."
You take it for what it is and smile. "Thanks," you blush. "Chrissy helped. You don't look half bad yourself."
And you mean it. He's in nearly as much leather as you. With black leather pants that cling to his body like chains, lacing running up the sides that seem to make them even tighter, he looks like a rockstar in his old Metallica muscle tee (the one where the logo is so faded, you can hardly see it).
You're not surprised to see his leather jacket and his battle vest, nor are you to see him wearing his own eyeliner, an extra edge you've seen during his concerts at the Hideout—though yours is admittedly done better. His hair is frizzier than ever, a look you tried to copy as well as you could but believe you fell short on (Eddie thinks your aces).
Eddie shakes his head. "Wow," he mumbles again, more breathless this time.
"You said that already."
"My bad," he says, not meaning it.
You shake your head and smile sweetly. "No, it's nice."
After staring again for too long, he clears his throat and smiles again, returning to his stupid antics that make you laugh constantly, like you've gone insane.
"You ready to go?" he asks.
"Yeah." You turn and yell into the house, cupping your hands around your mouth as you do it. "Bye, Daddy! Bye, Mom!"
Your mother's voice calls back, "Be back by sundown."
"What your mother said," says your father.
You close the door and walk with Eddie. "Uhm," he says. "We will not be back by sundown."
"It doesn't matter," your shrug. "They say it more as a courtesy. They'll forget I'm even gone."
"Ah," he mutters, though you don't seem too fazed by it. Almost like this is the norm for you. Maybe it is...
He takes you to his van, opening your door like a gentleman and loading you in. He hops into his own seat, slamming his door extra hard because it's been pretty stubborn lately.
As soon as he starts the engine, his music blares through the speakers, "Holy Diver" by Dio. You flinch, shocked by the sound but not upset. He immediately goes to turn it down, and once he's dialed it one way, you dial it the other.
Eddie looks over at you, your head already banging to the music as you rock enthusiastically in your seat. He stares at you, his parted lips curling in a grin. He thinks you're amazing.
"Are we going?" you ask half-jokingly when you catch him staring, speaking so loud you nearly blow your vocal chords trying speak over the music. You poke his side.
He over-exaggerates, recoiling in on himself and flailing back against his window like he'd been shot. You roll your eyes. And he lays there for a while, really dragging it out until you lightly smack his shoulder. The music blares.
"Eddie!"
"Ow– Hey!" he exclaims, even though you barely touched him.
You shake your head. "Drive."
"Okay, bossy," he says. He turns the music down just a bit and starts down the road. It's still loud, and your parents might get a complaint, but it's unlikely because the neighbors would be too afraid of offending them.
He nods lightly to the music, turning it down another smudge to ask, "You hungry?" He looks at you with his big doe eyes. He's going to give you a hernia.
"Not much," you shrug. "You?"
He also shrugs, tapping the fingers of his left hand on the wheel. He leans on his right arm rest, glancing over at you. "I'm always down for food," he winks. "But we could probably wait 'til we get there."
"If you wanna eat, we can."
He shakes his head. "Nag, we'll have a shit ton of free time. We'll be, like," he checks the time, "three hours early."
You snort. He's usually three hours late.
"Okay," you nod. You turn to him, smiling. "Oh, we could check out this new place my parent's friend's daughter told me about."
He laughs lightly, "Is she not your friend?"
You shrug a shoulder. As far as your friendships go, you recognize you don't really have many. Chrissy is the love of your life, as you tell her constantly, but she's the only person you've held close to your heart for years.
But your parents are rich. Their friends' kids are supposed to be your friends, but you've never acclimated to that thinking.
"Eh," you mumble. "We don't really consider ourselves friends, we just know each other." Her parents are also rich, and she's within the same category as you.
He hums. "Yeah, we can check it out." He sets his hand closer to yours, his pinky brushing yours. To avoid seeming too intimate, not wanting to complicate the friendship you've created, he wraps his pinky with yours and shakes it around.
Not intimate, just friendly.
"Is it fancy?"
You shake your head. "Not really." I squeeze his finger, grabbing his hand in both yours and forming his to lace your fingers together. "My parents and their rich friends spoil me with expensive stuff all the time, so I like the cheaper stuff a little more."
You purse your lips, looking away from your hands to look at his face. "But I don't like telling people that because I feel like I sound bratty."
He shakes his head. "Nah, you're not bratty." He lets go of your hand and lightly nudges the side of your face with his palm. You snort, swatting his hand away. "You're just bossy."
"Shut up," you laugh.
His face lights up at the proof of him being right. "See?" he laughs. "You're bossy. You're so bossy!"
You roll your eyes at him, "If you weren't driving, I'd hit you."
His eyes widen. "You're violent," he accuses. "You're violent now!"
You groan loudly, turning away from him with the most exaggeration you can manage. He laughs loudly. It's a ridiculous guffaw, and you feel the van swerve a little. You're so used to his driving by now, though, that it doesn't faze you.
When his laughter dies down and you're urge to burst into your own fit of giggles eases with it, he sighs dramatically to announce the end of his joke. "So," he hums, "if I gave you the choice to go someplace fancy with the best steak in town or a McDonald's," he leans toward you, tearing his eyes from the road at a stoplight to look at you, "what are you picking?"
You let a slow smile spread across your lips as you look at his stupid face with his stupid eyes and his stupid nose, and his stupid lips. You chuckle lightly, taking him in some more. "Well, you can't beat those nuggets."
He laughs again, still just as loud and dramatic as the first one. You love it, and you can't help but to laugh with him this time.
"No, you can't." He smiles at you, staring at your face a little longer than he probably should.
Eddie jumps when a loud honk interrupts his examination. Turning to the light, he sees that it is a very bright green. "Shit," he curses under his breath as he steps on the gas.
The van jolts, but your gaze lingered on him too long to notice. A slip of anxiety creeps up on you as a thought flashes behind your eyes. You hook your finger through one of the holes in your fishnets. You lean on your armrest. "Was that your way of asking me out, or am I dreaming?" You say it with enough amusement coloring your voice that it gives you the option to back out of it as a joke as soon as it is required.
And it was required.
"Fast asleep, Princess," he smiles, chuckling lightly as his eyes stay on the road in front of him. You ignore the stutter in your heart, covering your disappointment with a chuckle of your own and roll your eyes.
"Playing hard to get, huh?" you joke, trying not to be too sad about his lack of falling in love with you. You've still got him, even if you don't have him in your arms.
Eddie's fingers reach for the dashboard as he turns up the radio, turning the heavy rock up louder and louder. "What?" he shouts over the music, drowning your giggles in the song (though he can still hear them because he's listening very specifically for them). "I can't hear you over the music. What did you say?"
You smack his shoulder, giddy with his jokes. "Asshole!" you exclaim, crossing your arms in a faux pout. You both laugh out loud, big and dramatic and happy to be there. And as he turns down the radio before he blows your precious eardrums, he finds himself oddly tender with the sound of your joy. His fingers tighten around the steering wheel as he has to breathe a little more to steady his traitor of a heart.
~
You're nearly late, despite arriving there a whole hour early. Eddie had found a McDonald's and got so caught up in taking you that you both lost the time. You were in the middle of wiping Sweet N Sour sauce off his face when you realized it on the hands of your watch.
You almost got pulled over twice.
But you get there just as the lights are dimming. It's a huge opener—guitars and drums and screaming vocals, fans cheering and crying, headbanging and jumping and a couple of already too-drunk patrons puking in the back.
Eddie is ecstatic. He loves every part of it—the screaming, the crying, the puking. He takes it all in stride and stands really close to you as he does it.
He keeps looking at your face. Through the haze of flashing lights and so much excitement his heart might stop, he keeps looking at your face. You're really pretty, dressed in his style, smiling like a maniac, dancing to his music.
He was so scared you would hate it, this scene, his scene. He was scared you were going to show up and stand uncomfortably, smile in that people-pleasing way and bear through it until it was over.
But you don't.
You're beautiful. You glow under the lights, you're wonderful as you dance and sway and headbang to hell.
You keep smiling at him. You keep grabbing his hands and jumping to the beat of the music, and he jumps with you and he holds your hands. He can't help but adore you.
Part of him hopes it doesn't stick. He's not sure he could handle his heart beating this fast.
By the time the concert is over, you're both sweaty and hyped and tired but so happy. You both flash your VIP passes—you more confidently than him—and rush backstage with all the other VIPs.
He's buzzing with excitement as his sweaty hand shakes that of each member of the band. He does it wide-eyed, gleaming and entirely unbelieving. If his other hand was gripping yours, he'd think this was a dream.
A really freaky, amazing dream.
You both get shirts, personal autographs, and a lifelong experience that you load into his van with buzzing and heavy limbs. He helps you in, closing your door like a gentleman, and you slump against your seat.
Eddie gets in, slamming his door shut because it's a little stubborn. He starts the engine and turns the radio down all the way to a gentle background hum.
He doesn't turn his eyes toward you until he's pulled out of the insanity that is leaving the parking lot. When he glances over at you, you're asleep.
He'd wanted to thank you.
You're really pretty like this: eyes delicately closed, lips slightly parted. Granted, you're always pretty.
He has to look away before his chest starts hurting again.
Fuck.
He looks away from you quickly, gripping the wheel to get a handle on himself. He didn't mean to do this, to like you. Being friends was one thing, becoming best friends was another...
But actually starting to like you...
He isn't supposed to. You don't live in his world. He doesn't live in yours. More than that...
Actually, he's not sure. He just knows that... he wasn't supposed to begin liking you. His feelings for you were supposed to remain platonic.
But now he's not so sure.
There are a couple things he's sure of though.
You're beautiful, dressed like a metalhead or a cheerleader, you're beautiful. And he adores you, inside and out. And he wants you to know that.
~
"Hey, Princess."
You turn, giving Eddie a wide smile as he walks up to your locker. He's got his hand behind his back in an obvious, and you laugh at that as you adjust your bag on your shoulder. "Hi, Eddie."
He leans on your locker, nervous and proud at the same time as he smiles. His hair is freshly washed—still damp and curly with conditioner. It'll be fully frizzed by the end of the day, you know it.
"I got you something. Well, I made you something," he says. "Close your eyes." You do as you're told, smiling as you do. "Give me your hand."
You're almost giddy as you lift it, presenting it to him. He sets something in your palm. It's light, your brows furrow.
"Okay, open."
You do, looking at your palm. Your smile falls a little as you look at it. A bracelet made with black leather, braided together with a few little silver beads woven in. You look at the silver charm. A skull with a crown on it.
He made this himself.
"Eddie..." You swallow thickly, blinking quickly so you aren't crying your mascara off. People don't do things like this for you—no one but Chrissy.
"Do you hate it?" There's an anxiety there that kick-starts your heart. He braces himself for a 'yes' before you have to remind him that you're you, and you're deeply in love with him.
"I love it," you urge him, using your best smile to convince him of that fact. "It's beautiful."
Hope sparks in his eyes. He smiles a bit. "Really?"
"Yeah!" you promise. "I'll wear it forever."
You shove it in his hand, and he immediately understands your request without you even having to ask. You hold out your wrist as he fastens the bracelet on. It's a perfect fit.
You coo as you look at it. "I really love this, Eddie..." Then suddenly, "Oh! This reminds me. I got this for you–"
"No, no," he stops you, holding out a hand as you reach into your locker. "This was a gift. I'm gifting this to you."
You slump slightly, your smile falling into a confused frown as you sigh. "But..." you fiddle with the charm, "I wanna pay you back."
He shakes his head, not unkindly. "No need. I technically owe you a lot, I'm sure those tickets were expensive as hell."
You're feeling a little...nervous. No one refuses gifts from you, ever—except Chrissy, when they're really excessive. But this isn't. It's just an Iron Maiden vinyl record, one of those limited addition ones you have to really look for.
Your parents had bought it a while back at an auction because a lot of people were bidding on it. But it just sits in a case in the living room collecting dust—they don't listen to that kind of music. They only got it because a lot of people wanted it.
Eddie would like it. He'd appreciate it...
"But–"
"No buts," he says, his tone final. "Let me do this for you."
You pull your hand away from your locker, sighing. You nod slowly, offering a weak smile. "Okay..."
This isn't the last time that happens. Through the next few weeks, Eddie keeps declining your gifts. You try to give him the record, but before you can even get the words "I got you something" past your lips, he's telling you that you don't need to get him anything and giving you his own gift instead.
You feel like you've done something wrong.
He's giving you a lot of gifts. It's becoming harder and harder to accept them, but you couldn't stand refusing one of the presents he's made specially or used hard-earned money on for you. You couldn't do that to him, it would break his heart. But...
It's a lot of gifts. And he isn't even letting you repay the favor to make it even.
There's a problem. You just don't know what. So you do the only thing you can do.
You ask Chrissy.
You walk up the steps to Chrissy's house, pushing the door open and heading straight up the stairs.
"Hello, Y/N," Chrissy's father calls, not lifting his eyes from his newspaper.
"Hi, Mr. Cunningham." You go down the hall, barging through Chrissy's door and closing it tightly behind you. She steps out of her closet, her brows furrowed as she looks at you. Though she's unsurprised.
She does this to you almost as often as you do to her, though you have admittedly more drama than her. You're more radioactive than she is.
"We have a crisis." You plop down on her bed.
She leans on the frame of her closet door, crossing her arms over her chest. "What crisis?"
You lay down, covering your face with your hands and, in doing so, muffling your words. "I think Eddie's mad at me."
She understands you perfectly. "Why?" she asks as she walks over and sets her hands on your thighs, leaning over you. You look at her. "What happened?"
"He's not taking any of my gifts anymore!" You sit up on your hands, but she doesn't move. "I'm trying to give him stuff 'cause he keeps getting me stuff. I mean, whenever I'm mad at my parents, and they try to bribe me to get over it, I just don't accept their gifts."
She shrugs. "Okay," she thinks. She moves off of you, walking back to her closet. "But why would he give you things if he was mad at you?" She disappears inside. "Besides, what have you done?"
You stand, following her in. She's sifting through her wardrobe, looking for her outfit for tomorrow. She does it every day, usually with your help.
"I don't know!" you sigh, looking through her choice of skirts. "That's why I'm worried. I don't know what I've done, and guys are weird."
She holds up two skirts to show you: one short and flowy pale blue and one bright pink two sizes too small. You hum, picking the blue. The pink doesn't suit her skin anyway.
"Or maybe," you continue, "maybe he thinks I'm mad at him, and that's why he keeps giving me stuff."
She shakes her head. "I think you're reading too much into this, babe."
Your head shake is far more intense than hers. "I am reading perfectly into this. I show my love by buying people things, I gift give! I'm basically Santa as a teenage girl. Here." You pass her a white shirt, long sleeved and pretty.
She takes it. "Thanks." Then she hums. "Interesting analogy."
You shrug, sitting on the little stool in her closet with a sigh. "I mean, how would Santa feel if kids just...stopped taking his gifts and started giving him a whole bunch of them?"
Probably special, Chrissy thinks.
"He'd be frantic!"
Chrissy can't help but giggle lightly at that. She loves you, but you're a little ridiculous sometimes. She shakes her head and turns to you and picks up two pairs of shoes. She holds them up as she kneels in front of you, showing them off. "Have you tried talking to him?"
You choose the white sneakers over the black flats. "I don't want to say something bad and mess this up." You rest your chin in your hand. "We were doing so well."
She sighs, setting both pairs down. "I'm sure it's not as bad as you think."
You sigh. "You're right." And then you stand. "It's worse."
She stands and places her hands on your shoulders, making you sit again. "Okay, maybe you're exaggerating this a little bit."
Your shoulders slump. "Am I?"
"Yes." She laughs lightly to take the weight off it. She breathes in slowly. "Take a breath. Calm down."
She takes your head and takes you back into her bedroom, making you sit on the bed. She sits across from her, her legs crossed as she sways some hair behind her ear. She takes your hands.
"Eddie is not rich, he doesn't have a lot of money like your family," she begins to explain. "People who are not rich don't always enjoy accepting gifts because it makes them feel like they're inconveniencing you."
Your brows pull together, and you frown. "He's not an inconvenience."
"I know," she smiles. It looks beautiful on her. "He's already gotten so much stuff from you, plus those tickets? I'm not surprised he's trying to pay you back. He's not going to let you give him anything else until he feels like he has."
You assume the worst, looking down at your joined hands and sighing. "So that we're even, and he can stop feeling obligated to be friends with me."
"No," she urges. "So he can stop thinking that you might think he's using you for your money." She shrugs, "He probably just feels bad."
You think about her reasoning. Her explanation actually makes way more sense than your own.
"Yeah," she says. "Just talk to him. I'm sure it's just that."
You sigh, covering your face. "This is so weird."
She takes your wrists, pulling them away. Her voice takes on an annoyed tone. You can practically hear her eye rolls. "Because most of the people who are 'friends' with you are only friends because you buy them nice things."
You nod. "Yeah."
"Except for me, of course," she smiles, almost proudly.
You chuckle. "Except for you."
She sighs, letting go of you and shoving you to stand. "Go talk to Eddie."
You take a breath. "Okay..." You give her your best smile. "Thanks, Chris. You're the best." You kiss her cheek on the way out as you turn toward the door.
"I know," she says matter-of-factly. "Love you."
You open her door, peering your head in. You kiss at her. "Love you back."
She begins to stand. "Also," she looks back at you, tilting her head, "tell your bitch mom to stop shrinking your clothes so she can loosen them. She's an ugly old hag–"
"Y/N!"
"–and you're beautiful and perfect, and I love you. I'm serious, I'll beat her ass."
"Leave!" She closes the door in your face, but you know she's laughing on the other side, grateful for your comments.
~
Eddie is sitting on the porch with his acoustic when you drive up. The engine halts when you pull out your key, standing and closing the door behind you. He likes your car. It's sleek and beautiful. Very expensive because your parents bought it for you when you first got your license.
He keeps strumming his guitar as you make your way up the stairs. "Hey, Princess," he greets you.
"Hey," you mutter, the nerves grabbing at your throat as you come to stand next to him. You fidget with your fingers, sitting next to him on the bench.
"Eds, can we talk?"
He hums, still strumming. "About what?" When you don't respond, he looks up at you. He stops, moving his guitar off his lap with furrowed brows.
"Woah," he says, noticing your worried face. "What's wrong?"
You take a moment to think, sighing as you try to figure out what you were going to say. You rehearsed it in the car, thoroughly, and it's all blanking staring at his wide eyes, brown as coffee.
"Are you mad at me?"
He looks confused. "Why would you think that?" He grabs your hand, and you don't know if you're imagining his thumb brushing over your knuckles.
"Because you aren't letting me gift you things."
He doesn't do what you expect—though you're not entirely sure what you were expecting. Eddie smiles, a wide thing that splits his face in two. His eyes almost look like they're shining as he looks at you. You don't feel patronized when he does it, either. It's oddly warming.
"You think I'm mad at you because I'm not letting you gift me things?" he clarifies, almost shocked, though he knows he shouldn't be.
So he's not mad at you? That makes you feel a little better...
"Well," you sigh. "When my parents and I argue, they buy me things to make me feel better. I always say no."
He softens, smiling gently and taking your hand between his. "Sweetheart," he says slowly, "I'm not mad at you. I just don't want you to think I only like you for your money, especially after that concert. That's a huge gesture for someone you only started hanging out with two months ago."
You sigh, looking away from his eyes to think. Chrissy was right, he feels guilty for accepting your gifts. This whole thing is new to you. You're so used up from serving everybody else. Now someone is trying to serve you, and you completely mistook it for anger...
"I'm not used to that," you admit.
"To what?"
You shrug, "People not accepting gifts from me... other than Chrissy." You smile a little, but it falls quickly. Sighing, you look back up at him, squeezing his hands just a slight. "Most of my friends are friends because I bought them their prom tickets last year or invited them to a party or something."
Eddie smiles again. He seems to scoot closer to you, both your thighs squishing together and leaving no space between your bodies. He nudges your shoulder and then pushes you away a bit because he's too affectionate. "I don't like you because you have money and buy me nice things." He chuckles lightly. "Actually, the reason I didn't like you in the first place was because you have money and buy people nice things."
You smile a little and Eddie feels like the special-est person on Earth. He knows it's silly and too affectionate but he can't help it. Eddie's crooked finger hooks underneath your chin and lifts it to look right at him. "I like you for you."
It's moments like these when your love for Eddie can't be measured. It's moments like these when your love for Eddie feels more mature than a schoolgirl crush. It's that moment when you're imagining more than parties or prom or dates or celebrations, when your mind is full of thoughts of sitting quietly in the living room or watching a movie at three o'clock in the afternoon because it's a stay-at-home-day or fixing dinner as he wraps his arms around your waist and sets his chin on your shoulder or reading a book while he scratches his head and files taxes at the kitchen table.
You smile fondly, and Eddie thinks you're the strongest whiskey because he gets dizzy at the sight of you.
"Really?" you mumble, your voice soft and sweet.
"Yeah," he nods. "You're awesome, sweetheart."
You love when Eddie calls you 'Princess' in that funny, affectionate way, but when he calls you 'sweetheart; you lose all your senses in the blink of an eye.
"Really?" It's the only thing you can think to say.
"Absolutely."
"Okay..."
Then you get brave—as brave as you can get. Licking your bottom lip, you look down at your lap and smile nervously. To have to gather the courage to look him in the eye as you smile gently at him. "You know how you can repay me for the concert?"
He laughs, shaking his head. "How?"
You bite the inside of your cheek, another breath for courage—"Go to prom with me?"
Eddie's smile falls. "I-"
"You don't have to go as my date. I just don't want to go alone," you say quickly, trying not to trap him or manipulate him or make him think you're trying to do either. "Chrissy's going with Jason, and I don't want to be a third wheel..." You sigh, looking him in the eyes and feeling your heart palpitating.
"Please?"
You're going to kill him one day, he's sure of it. The way his heart kicks at the sight of your pleading eyes is fatal, and he knows it because he can feel it in his chest. He sighs. It's his own fault. He let you be friends, and now he's head over heels...
"...Sure," he agrees. When you beam at him, the largest grin he's ever seen in his life, it's all worth it, his stupidity. "We'll go together."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," he says. "Just two friends...going to prom."
You'll take that. You would take a million "just two friends" over "we don't talk anymore". You'd do anything for him. "Yeah," you smile. "Thanks, Eds."
It's all worth it to see you smile. "No problem."
~
Eddie's nervous. You can tell in the way he keeps bumping into you. You would dismiss it as just the way the place is crowded, stocked to the brim with sweaty bodies, some already drunk in the first hour and others high.
Eddie's been to parties before, obviously. He's done senior year three times, of course he's been to parties.
But he's not used to being around so many people and not being stared at. Almost no one is looking at him.
"Why are we going to this thing again?" he'd asked as you were getting ready.
You shrugged. "It's pre-prom."
"But there's actual prom."
You smoothed out your lipstick before you turned to him. "Yeah, but actual prom is kinda boring 'cause of the family-friendly rules. Pre-prom is hosted by students with no real adult supervision, so...less boring." You shrugged again, turning away to fix a stray hair. "Besides, I have to make an appearance. Me and Chrissy since we're in the running for Prom Queen. Otherwise, we get no votes."
"People'll vote for you anyway," he smiled.
"I always just want a drink or two."
He laughed a little. "We can just go to my place then." When you shook your head and laughed at him, he did the same. "Why am I going?"
"Because you have to. 'Cause you're my date." You turned quickly, eyes wide and hands out, "My plus one." You think about it for a moment. "My friend-date."
"Your date," he agrees, nodding and laughing and hoping you don't freak out because he called himself your date when you're just going as friends. Just friends.
"Yeah, I'll go with you, Princess." He sighs dramatically so he doesn't sound too wistful.
But now he wishes he'd convinced you to just go to his place and lounge on his couch, watching stupid movies and eating popcorn and then throwing popcorn at the screen when they do something stupid.
He holds your hand. You squeeze it, pulling him further inside with you and comforting him with all you have.
It becomes easier when you find Chrissy. Chrissy is very welcoming and helps you help Eddie settle because she's sweet and you're sweet and he loves you—your sweetness—he loves your sweetness.
When he has a beer in his hand—his only beer tonight, he's decided—and your hand in his other, he's laughing and letting you dance around him. Some people get upset with him when he accidentally bumps into them, and others give him dirty looks for the sake of giving dirty looks, but under the light in your eyes, he doesn't care. He doesn't even notice.
He watches your nose scrunch up in that adorable way that means you're truly happy. He keeps looking at you with the fondest eyes and the gentlest touches and the most wonderful smiles. You can't take it—he's so pretty with his doe eyes and smile lines and long lashes and his big nose and crazy hair and plump lips.
"Quit smiling at me," you giggle, pulling on his hand in yours. "I can't focus when you look at me like that."
"Like what?" he laughs. Then he makes a face, his eyes going wide and his smile showing all his teeth and his brows pulling together goofily. "Like this?"
"No, not like that," you laugh, smacking his shoulder lightly. He hears a squeak in your giggle and is thrown into his own fit. All your best laughs have squeaks in them. "Go back to how you were!"
You're both too sweet on each other, and he laces your fingers together to make sure you can't go away—even though you'd never.
"Oh, so now you want me to look at you?" he hums.
"Just not like a crazy person." He pulls you in so you're flat against his chest, and you don't have time to let your breath hitch until he's spinning you out again.
"How does a crazy person look?" He sets his beer down, pushing his hands into his hair and shaking it up. It sticks out all kinds of ways, a total mess.
"Like that," you nod dramatically.
"Like that?"
"Yeah." You add to the madness, your fingers carding through his hair. "Certified insane. It's a good look on you."
He snorts, fixing his hair again, "Yeah, I think so, too." When it's only in slight disarray, he sighs and looks down at you.
Eddie thinks you're beautiful. He likes your hair and your face and your soft hands and your pretty lips and bright eyes. He wants to hug you, but he'll settle for taking your hand when he realizes he's been staring at you for too long.
He starts pulling you with him as he walks. "Come on. I–"
A surprised gasp forces its way from your chest. You don't have time to process what's happening until after it's done. All you know is that it gets really cold and wet, and now your white dress is stained a bright red.
A round of snickering is heard above you. You look up to see a group of boys laughing obnoxiously over the stairs, a large bowl once filled with punch braced in their hands as they do. Everyone stands in shock, all talk ceasing when they see the sight of you drenched in red and these boys cracking up from it. It takes them a moment to catch wise...
Eddie is the first one to snap out of the shock, ignoring his hand, sleeve, and shoes just as wet. He mumbles something under his breath. Even in the relative silence, you don't make out the tiny "baby" that slips from his lips.
He sees your bottom lip tremble, your lashes already clumped with punch now clumping with the oncoming tears. The sudden urge to make everything okay again fills every inch of his bones. And as he looks up at these boys who'd hurt you, he wants nothing more than to let his fist meet pompous cheekbones.
"Tommy?" Your voice is meek, wavering with a brimming sorrow.
The other boys stop laughing immediately, looking down at you as their eyes fill with shock...and even fear. Tommy H, the main culprit, isn't so quick. When he notices their sudden change, he looks down as well.
That was meant for Eddie. Not you.
Now he knows fear.
Eddie watches your face contort even more until you're crying, tears falling down your cheeks and adding to the mess. He reaches out for your face, but you don't seem to notice as you rush past him, sniffles and all.
Eddie doesn't even get to shoot Tommy a threatening glare. He completely forgets about him for the moment in favor of following you through the house and out of the door, his shoes squeak-squeaking behind him.
He guesses you notice him following, because you reach a hand out behind you and catch his as you continue running out. Everyone parts ways, letting you pass without trouble. Eddie hears shouting behind him but keeps after you without a second thought.
You make it all the way to his van, parked outside in the crowded mess of cars and trucks. He opens the back doors for you so you can sit properly. You do, dropping your face in your hands as your chest heaves and you sob.
"Are you okay?" he asks, almost frantically. He runs his hands through your hair and gets you to look up at him so he can see your face clearly. It's covered in tears and punch and running mascara.
That same silent "oh, baby," passes his lips again, but you can hardly see the movement of it through your tears, so it's lost on you once more. Eddie's hands move to cradle your face. You keep sniffling, letting your body shake with shuddering breaths.
A horrible feeling curls in his chest. "Jesus," he mutters ruefully. "I should go back there and beat his ass."
He looks in the direction of the house, but you're already stopping him. "No, wait," you sniff. "It's okay."
But he's pissed. "No, it definitely is not okay–"
He's cut off by the sound of the front door opening forcefully. You both turn to see what's happening. As soon as you see Tommy H's freckled face, you hide in Eddie's chest. His gentle hands keep you there, rubbing and comforting you.
Tommy's running. He and the friends who hadn't escaped bolt from the house faster than Eddie thinks he's ever seen anyone run.
Someone hollers inside, and suddenly the entire football team is chasing after the boys, shouting and whooping and out for blood in the cover of street lamps in the night.
Directly behind them, Chrissy, Steve Harrington, and some brown-haired girl, stand by the door. They look after the boys but ultimately turn toward you. Chrissy doesn't look at all worried.
Eddie's attention is caught by a shouting voice.
"Y/N!" Jason Carver yells. "Do you need a ride home?"
You look up from Eddie's chest, wipe your face a little, and shake your head. "No. Eddie's taking me." You sniffle pitifully, "But thank you, Jason."
He nods, "No problem." Turning to Eddie, he raises his finger in a harsh point. "Take her home safe, Munson, or I'll skin you like a cat." He turns in the direction they're running, still in sight. He shouts loudly. "You better fucking run, you son of a bitch!"
"Hey, it's okay," you say, "You can let Tommy go." Eddie looks at you, obviously disagreeing, but says nothing.
Jason makes a face. "Why would I do that?" Then he's off again, shouting after the team and the runners.
You look toward the figures walking toward you and Eddie. Chrissy shakes her head gently, seemingly amused (only to you) but not smiling. Steve's expression is completely different, as he looks genuinely concerned but ultimately sympathetic. The other girl looks worried.
"Hey, you okay?" Steve asks, setting his hands on his hips and leaning.
You nod, wiping your nose and rubbing your hands on your wet clothes. It's not coming out. "Yeah..." you mumble, squeezing a couple tears out.
He sighs, "Tommy's way outta line for that one. I'm sorry, princess."
Eddie gets jealous for a moment that he's called you by his name for you before he remembers... Everyone calls you princess. It's basically your name.
"S'okay."
You glance at the girl, who gives a small nervous smile. She mouths silently, "I'm Robin." You give her the best smile you can manage. "Hope you're okay," she says gently.
Chrissy nods gently to herself. She shoots you a look, "Don't catch a cold." She looks at Eddie. "Get home safe. Both of you. Bye, babe."
You wave at her, a tiny lift of your hand from your lap. Another tear slips down your cheek.
"Come on, sweetheart."
Eddie braces a hand behind your back and eases you to stand. You do, taking his hand and letting him lead you. Steve pats his back gently before he's stepping away. Eddie closes the back door and opens your own like a gentleman. The three wave their goodbyes and start back toward the house.
He closes your door and goes to his side. The engine roars to life after having to twist the key a couple times. He starts driving. You're really quiet.
Eddie reaches a hand down and sets it gently on your knee, hoping it's not weird but also too worried about you to care. "Are you okay, Princess?"
You nod. "Yeah." You take in a large breath.
He shakes his head, his hand flexing on the wheel. "Why would you want them to let him go?" He hates the idea of someone hurting you and getting away with it. You deserve so much more.
"Hm?" You look at him, wiping the tears in your eyes. "Oh, I don't." You clear your throat and sniff. As you lick your lips, your face scrunches at the taste of alcoholic punch and lipstick. Eddie watches you try to wipe your face clean as best you can with your hands.
Your face scrunches. "Shit, I'm all sticky now."
Eddie's going to get whiplash.
"What?"
"Hm?" you look at him again. All evidence of your crying is gone. Your teary eyes are now only slightly watering, with your face kind of clean, no new fresh tears take their place. The sadness is wiped clean. You look back at him with the least amount of sorrow he's ever seen on you.
When you feel the van turning, you say his name and it swerves back in place. He puts his other hand back on the wheel.
"You were faking it?"
Suddenly, you smile. Eddie can't stand you.
"Of course," you say, shrugging. "It's just punch."
He sighs, feeling a little stupid but mostly just...amused. And really fucking relieved. He hates seeing you cry. You deserve so much more.
"I thought you were upset."
You laugh and he no longer has any reason to be upset. "No," you chuckle, "but Tommy's not happy."
He shakes his head. "I'm so confused."
You smile and sigh gently. "Thomas Hagan just poured a whole punch bowl on me—" you make doe eyes, "—the sweet, innocent princess of Hawkins—and then laughed his ass off like it was the funniest shit in the world." You shake your head, not at all upset. "He's not coming back from that."
Eddie smiles slowly. You're enjoying this. "You little–"
"He'll be blacklisted. No more hangouts, no more parties. He's done."
Eddie can't believe you. "Manipulative."
You pinch your fingers slightly and smile as you look through them. "Just a little."
"You're seriously not upset?" he wonders.
You're drenched head to toe, your hair is clumpy, your skin is sticky, your makeup is running all over your face, and your dress is forever ruined. But you're smiling like all is well with the world.
Again, you shrug. "I'll have to take a long shower now, but I'm okay."
He snorts lightly. "I bet."
You lean in slowly, smirking and bobbing your brows. "Never get on my bad side." A reminder. The one he asked for the last time Tommy had done something unbecoming.
And Eddie laughs. Not because he doesn't take you seriously, but because he just likes you so much. You are... everything to him.
Doing his best to keep his eyes on the road, he laughs loudly and fills the van with the sound of it. You get giddy at accomplishing such a feat and can't help but laugh with him. It's loud and obnoxious and just what you both needed. Warmth blooms in your chest, despite the cold shivers coming in, and you couldn't be happier.
~
Eddie pulls up on the curb, opening your door—like a gentleman—and helping you out. You mumble a quick apology about his sticky seats, to which he replies that those seats have seen worse. You don't know what he means, but you're hoping your idea is wrong.
In the driveway, yours and your dad's cars are parked and idle. Your mother is gone on a business trip—her boss' secretary—so he's probably home alone.
"Play it cool," you whisper to Eddie as you get to the door, messing with your sticky hair to make it look worse than it is. "How do I look?"
"Terrible," he lies.
"Great," you beam. You let your face fall immediately, and you look pitifully pretty.
You take Eddie's hand and let him open the door for you. As he's closing it, you glance around. "Daddy?"
"Yes, honey." You hear his footsteps as he enters the foyer. He turns the corner, "I thought you would be out longer–"
He looks up, stopping abruptly as he realizes what a mess you are. He furrows his brows, walking closer. "What happened to you?" He goes in to hug you, pausing when he sniffs. "Why do you smell like that?"
"Just..." you sniffle and Eddie watches a tear slip down your cheek. He thinks you're ridiculous, and he loves every moment of it. "Something happened at the party."
He picks up your hands and holds them in his palms. "What happened?"
You shake your head, looking down at the buttons of his shirt. Eddie stands close behind you, a hand on your back for support. It's warm, and you like the feeling of it. "Nothing."
"No," your father hums, tilting your chin up to look at him, "tell me."
You take in a big breath and let it out in a sigh. Your bottom lip trembles. "Tommy H," you confess. "He poured punch over my head on top of the stairs." You will more tears from your eyes. Your breath hitches, and you shake your head, "I'm sure it was an accident... He probably didn't mean to do it."
Technically, he didn't. It was meant for Eddie. But that's no better. You did warn him.
He raises a brow. "It looks like he spilled the whole bowl on you." He looks at his hand, red fruit punch staining his palm now.
You nod, a slow up and down that has him frowning deeper.
"Hey," he hums. "He won't mess with you anymore."
"Really?"
He nods, holding your chin. "Of course. No one messes with my little girl and gets away with it. We're cutting him off."
Bingo.
You shake your head, "It's okay. You don't have to do that."
He smiles gently, "But I will." He nudges your chin gently before letting you go. "Go get washed up."
He pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and begins wiping his hands clean. "Thank you, Daddy." You would hug him, but you're still sticky. You're sure he wouldn't mind, but you'd rather avoid the mess anyway.
"Of course, honey." You kiss his cheek as you turn toward the stairs with Eddie's hand in yours. As his foot lands on the first stair, your father stops him.
"Hey."
Eddie turns.
"Did you drive her home?"
"Yes, sir."
He grunts. "Did you beat that Tommy kid up?"
Eddie shakes his head. "No, sir. Jockeys had him," he looks at you, spying a gleam in your eyes and smiling a bit. "I was just trying to get her home."
There's a short silence as your father smiles. He gives a firm nod, "Good man."
Relief fills his chest as he nods back. "Thank you, sir." You pull him up the stairs. He takes off his jacket.
You close the door behind him, your smile returning as you kick off your shoes. "Not only did we blacklist Tommy," you turn back to him, "but my dad also loves you now. Congrats."
Eddie furrows his brow as he heads toward your bathroom. "He does?" He turns on the sink, washing his sticky hands.
You nod. "Yeah." You disappear into your closet, coming back a moment later with a towel on your arm. "That's fatherly approval. You defended my honor, my knight in shining armor."
You take his arm and kiss his cheek as you walk past him. He feels giddy. "At least someone's parents love me." He starts taking off his shoes, setting them next to yours. Eddie sits at the edge of your bed.
You snort. "I'm gonna take a shower. Don't be a perv."
He kicks the floor playfully and sighs. "Ruined my whole night."
You point at him threateningly. "I'll tell my dad on you."
"I'll take pictures with me then. To remember you by." He winks.
You return the wink. "I'll make sure to pose for you."
You disappear into the bathroom, closing the door behind you. Eddie sits in your room, smiling pathetically, so happy that you're okay and he's okay and he's your knight in shining armor.
Here he is, smiling like an idiot, surrounded by the scent of you in your room with all your pictures and all your knick-knacks. He slides onto the floor, resting his head back on the mattress. God, he's in trouble.
He's flipping through one of the books on your shelves when you come out, a cloud of steam following you as you dry your hair. He looks over your outfit, smiling but offering you a confused look.
"Is that mine?"
You look down at your shirt, one of his band tees that you'd taken a couple weeks ago. He'd been looking for that. You can keep it.
"Yeah," you nod. "I stole it from your room."
He chuckles. "Well, finders, keepers, I guess."
You smile, walking toward your drawer stocked with VHS tapes. "You wanna watch a movie? I can go make popcorn."
"Sure." He raises his brows. "Can I take a shower? I don't wanna get spiked punch everywhere."
You snort. "Course. There are towels in there, and some of your clothes are in my closet."
He tilts his head, sighing. "How many of my clothes have you stolen?"
You raise your hands in defense. "Just a few shirts and like...one pair of sweatpants."
He shakes his head at you as he goes to get a pair. He closes the bathroom door softly behind him.
He likes your bathroom. It's clean and mostly organized. It smells like lavender and rose, pearly whites and pale blues. He almost expected pink.
~
Eddie appreciated the weight of your body against his as you lean into his side. Labyrinth plays on the TV as the minutes tick by into the night.
He keeps looking at you, your heavy eyes drooping as you struggle to stay awake. It's late. You should be sleeping, but you're staying awake for him. It takes a lot not to turn his head and kiss the top of your own.
"You're warm," you mumble.
He smiles a little. "Yeah?" With the arm thrown over your shoulders, his fingers play with your hair. "You gettin' sleepy?" He knows the answer.
You nod, a sluggish movement against his arm. "Mhm."
He picks up the remote slowly, turning down the TV just a little more. "You should go to sleep then."
Your body becomes a little heavier against him. He takes all your weight, proud to. "Mmm," you slur. "Finish the movie."
A very light chuckle, as light as he can make it, eases from his chest. "We can finish it another time," he says so, so softly.
"No...Watch it now."
He does kiss your hairline this time, leaning his cheek on the top of your head. "Go to sleep, bossy."
He's not sure if you mean to say it, he's not even sure if you know you've said it. But when you whisper that little "love you", he loses his mind.
He smiles so wide, he feels his whole face start to hurt. He hadn't realized it would make him so happy to hear that, to hear your little confession spoken gently into the warmth of his chest. He turns his head so his words go into your hair. "Yeah?"
"Mmm."
He opens his mouth, thinks, and smiles. "I love you, too, baby."
You hum, and then he feels you slump. He doesn't mind. He doesn't mind the way he can't move his arm, he doesn't mind the way your hair gets in his face. He turns off the TV, leans back as slowly as he can, and lays the both of you down against your pillow to sleep.
You love him.
~
The entire day consists of Chrissy at your place getting ready for prom. The music doesn't stop and neither does the energy. You keep her happy and entertained and well-fed and then distracted again with more excitement so she doesn't get self-conscious and start panicking.
You also spend a lot of time keeping all the parents from the room. Your mothers keep trying to "help", and you keep having to kick them out because they're both annoying and overbearing.
Eddie keeps calling you. The walky-talky Dustin gave you both goes off regularly, at least once an hour to ask a question you'd had answered for days now.
"It is red, right? Not blue? It can't be blue; Chrissy's wearing blue." "Which knot are we doing on the bowtie? Wayne only knows the simple one but he's got a magazine with the other ones." "Am I leaving my hair down?" "I drive to your place, and then we take your car, right?"
"Yes, it's red. The whole outfit we picked is right." "Try the simple one. I can fix it if it looks weird, but it shouldn't. I trust you." "Do what makes you comfortable. I'll love it either way." "That's right. I know you really want to drive it." "Eddie, everything's gonna be fine. Don't worry."
"I know," he sighs. "I just don't wanna mess this up for you. I know you've been looking forward to it."
You giggle a bit. "As long as I get to spend time with you, Eds, tonight will be great."
"Such a charmer," he teases.
"It's my natural talent."
You set the device down, taking your spot across from Chrissy once more. She's smiling at you, albeit nervously.
"Are you sure I look okay?"
You smile, pinching her chin before reclaiming the small brush and finishing off the short, sleek wing of her eyeliner, all while holding your breath so you don't accidentally screw up. You draw a tiny heart just above the apple of her cheek.
"You are," you set the eyeliner down, "absolutely beautiful. You always are."
"Are you sure?" she says, a telling hand creeping to her belly.
You take her face in your hands, careful not to screw up her freshly done makeup. "Chrissy," you whisper, "you're perfect. Always, all the time, no matter what. I will never lie to you, and I'll never sugarcoat it. You're amazing, and I love you."
She takes a slow breath in and nods, smiling prettily. "Love you, too." You kiss her forehead.
"Now do my eyes," you smile, handing her a makeup brush. She giggles as she takes it.
And later on, as the night gets closer and the sun is beginning its descent, you and Chrissy are walking down the steps, holding each other's hands.
All the parents are gathered downstairs, smiling as your mothers cling to your fathers' sides. Your father smiles as you come down. "You both look like royalty," he declares, holding his arms open for you. Your mother moves to give you the space.
"Thank you, Daddy," you hum.
He pulls you back to see your face. "Anything for you, princess." He kisses your forehead.
Chrissy's sharing her own hug with her father. "I trust they were the dresses you wanted," he says.
She nods. "They were. Thank you, Daddy."
"Whatever you want, angel." He kisses her cheek.
Your father pats him on the back as they both wander into the kitchen, your mother follows behind them.
You try not to grimace when Laura stays back, looking her daughter up and down with a grimace of her own.
"I still think I should have loosened that dress up a little more." She moves forward, placing her hands on Chrissy's waist and trying to adjust the fabric.
Chrissy tries to smile through her discomfort. She puts a hand over her stomach and you retire your hard side-eye to come to her side. You weave your arm around her as you give her a reassuring grin.
"Well, I think you look beautiful." You nudge her chin, she smiles. "I envy you."
"I don't know," she tsks. "She's a little too big for her dress. Especially around the hips..."
You smile, turning to the side as you mumble under your breath. "Funny how you barely fit in that large sized dress."
Her brows shot up. "What was that?"
"Hm?" you ask, turning back to her. "Nothing. I was just saying you didn't need to stress."
She huffs, "You said something about a large."
Chrissy's head dips, attempting to cover a grin as you loop your arm through her elbow. "I was just...admiring your large heel."
There's silence as she stares at the both of you. Chrissy tries not to laugh at your dangerous idiocy whilst also struggling with not shrinking under her mother's terrible gaze. You have no issue in staring her right back down, your head tilting and your cordial smile held strong on your lips.
"You mean...'high' heel?" she corrects.
The tension in the air is thick. Chrissy finds it difficult to stand still as she shifts from foot to foot, staring down at the floor or the wall or her bracelet. Anything to avoid looking her mother in the eye—or you, for that matter, in fear that she would burst with laughter and build herself her own grave.
You hum and nod. "Of course. High horse—heel. My apologies."
Her hand raises to her chest, seemingly shocked by the blatant 'disrespect'. "You are being very disrespectful, young lady."
You were trying to be subtle but something about Chrissy's mother rips all the subtlety from you as you furrow your brows but continue to smile. "Oh, I wasn't aware decency was considered disrespectful."
Chrissy nudges your side gently, whispering your name in an urgent reprimanding. "What? What did I say?" you wonder.
Laura isn't having it. "Why, I should go tell your mother about your unpleasant behavior."
You fight the urge to roll your eyes. You try to look regretful, but you're sure you're missing the mark by a few hairs. "Oh, forgive me, Ms. Cunningham."
She huffs. "Missus, young lady."
"Right," you nod. "Mrs. Cunningham. I apologize." You tighten your grip on Chrissy's arm just a slight, making it harder for her to keep it together. She loves you, and she thinks you're hilarious. "It's unbecoming of a lady—such as myself—to behave in such a way."
"Yes, it is," she agrees. "One would think a girl like you would behave more appropriately."
You nod firmly. "Of course. I should respect my elders—I apologize, my superiors."
You could gag at the idea of it.
But she can't stand your "disrespect" any more as she huffs and shakes her head, making a various amount of scoffing noises as she begins walking away. "The nerve of children these days."
She leaves the both of you alone. Once you're sure she's out of earshot, Chrissy bends over laughing, covering her mouth and shaking her head to keep quiet.
"You're gonna get in trouble," she whisper-yells. Instead of shoving you away, she tightens her grip to pull you closer. Your foreheads practically touch as the two of you form a conspiring huddle.
You scoff. "I'm Daddy's angel. Doesn't matter what she tells my mom—who will tell my dad—Daddy's angel knows no wrong." It's a truth you repeat often, but it's one of those truths that have always been indisputable.
"Daddy's princess," she corrects you. "I'm the angel."
You shrug, humming. "You're technically the queen."
It's funny. You probably have a higher social standing than Chrissy does, but she was always the Queen of Hawkins while you were simply the princess—not that you minded, you would always support her.
Neither of you are quite sure why that is, but you think it may be because she became a cheerleader before you and then started dating Jason Carver. It doesn't matter. As long as you have her by your side, you would accept being the jester in this high school court of a kingdom.
Chrissy smiles, another giggle rattling her body. "So strange how you don't listen to me then."
You gasp dramatically. "I do! Otherwise I'd be out of the business, Your Highness. We both know I'm a little too dramatic to process common sense sometimes." She rolls her eyes playfully at you. "Exhibit A, Eddie."
She snorts. "Yeah, you were a little confused a couple times there.*
You gasp again, pretending to elbow her in the side. "You're mean!" She giggles again as you call out. "Daddy! Time for pictures."
"Coming, princess," he calls from the kitchen.
Chrissy whispers to you, "You're crazy."
You wink. "Crazy for you."
She rolls her eyes.
All the parents return with a camera. There are a multitude of flashes as they get every possible picture they could need—you and Chrissy, you and your parents, you and your dad, Chrissy and her parents, Chrissy and her dad, Chrissy and her mom (because her mother is insistent). More pictures will be taken when the boyfriends show up.
Jason is the first of the two to show up. As you predicted, there are more pictures. And as soon as those pictures are done, he and Chrissy leave, but not without a pink kiss to your cheek.
Then Eddie shows—without blaring his music through his speakers tonight. He isn't late, in fact he's perfectly on time.
As he walks up the steps to the house, he behaves like a gentleman the whole way. He rings the doorbell, you answer it before your father can, and you give Eddie your best smile.
He looks so handsome. He's in a black tux with a red dress shirt. His black bowtie is perfect, and you're sure it's because he didn't stop until it was. You would have thought he would keep his hair down, but he wants to impress you. His hair is shiny with product and so, so curly. He's got it pulled back in a half-up man bun.
And, of course, his rings are still in place. Shiny, freshly polished. Jesus, you loved him.
"Wow," he sighs at the sight of you. His doe eyes are wide, and his plump lips are parted. He looks starstruck.
"Do you hate it?" you worry, looking down at your dress. The theme is royalty in yours and Chrissy's honors. So, as intended, you look like a princess.
He shakes his head. "No."
You try not to mess with your hair by running your hands through it. "Is it too much?"
Eddie grabs your hand, smiling as he squeezes it gently. "You look fuckin' beautiful."
Your eyes seem to shine, and Eddie thinks you're trying to kill him. "Really?" you smile.
"You look like a princess," he promises, looking at you too closely. You're so, so pretty.
Something hits him, not literally. "Oo!" he exclaims, taking a step back. He turns on his heel with no explanation and rushes back to his van. You watch him, thinking that he's a total dork and that you wanna kiss him silly. There's something about being dressed up like this and being his not-date to prom that makes your feelings for him just that much more potent.
Usually you can get through the first five minutes without imagining your faces squished together in a too-affectionate kiss, but you can't help right now but to be riddled with the fantasy.
He comes back with something uselessly hidden behind his back. "I have this. Close your eyes."
You do as you're told because you trust him, and you would hold a ticking bomb in your palms if he asked you to. You feel him place something on your head—a tiara, you presume.
"Shit," he huffs breathlessly.
You peak your eyes open, raising your hands to feel the tiara with happy fingers. You want to burst. You're so much of a princess to him that he needed to give you a tiara. You're proper royalty now.
"Too much?" you ask.
"Never," he's quick to say. He smiles. "You're perfect."
You don't know what compelled you to say it. "Shit, you might as well kiss me now."
"Huh?" he wonders, as though he wasn't paying attention. You don't think he was.
He was. He definitely was.
"Nothing," you say anyway, covering your words with a grin as you take his hand and pull him inside. "Come on, my mom wants a picture."
He raises a brow, pointing to himself like a dummy. "With me?"
"'Course." You thread your hand through his elbow, and he gladly allows it.
"Seriously?" he asks.
"Yeah," you giggle. "We'll give some to Wayne, too. I'm sure he'd like a picture."
"Yeah," he mutters, fully agreeing but also slightly confused. You like him confused, he's sweet either way.
~
Eddie is a gentleman. As soon as you get to the party, he rushes out of the car just to open your door for you—as he always does. He takes your hand in the crook of his elbow and leads you inside. You smile the whole way, and he tells you that you're pretty when you smile. Your face hurts from smiling so much.
When you're inside, the music is already pounding in the floors and a lot of people are dancing. There are also, however, plenty of people sitting at the sidelines, watching others enjoy their time. People with no dates, people with dates ignoring them, people in friend groups. You notice Tommy H's freckled face hasn't shown up yet. A sly smirk threatens to overtake your warm smile.
You and Eddie spend the first hour dealing with everyone coming up to compliment you. You both expected this. The party's just started, you're running for queen, and...you look beautiful. Eddie does his best to swat away any of the vultures. When you spy Chrissy, you stick next to her and brave the vultures together.
Until Jason pulls her away for punch. She kisses your cheek as she goes, allowing her boyfriend to drag her away again. You don't mind, it gives you time with Eddie and his excited affection.
"Sup, Harrington," he calls when he spots Steve and—the girl you've come to know as—Robin Buckley. "I thought they didn't let old men in here."
Steve rolls his eyes as his palm smacks Eddie's. "You're older than me, Munson."
Eddie shrugs that heavy shouldered shrug and snorts. "By, like, a year."
Steve shakes his head and turns away from him, setting his eyes upon you. With a warm smile, he greets you. "You look great, Y/N."
"Like, drop dead gorgeous. You are stunning," Robin spews, taking in your outfit with plenty of appreciation for your style. A tiny squeal escapes her as she does.
"Thank you," you answer genuinely. You've grown to really like Robin in a short span of time. She's so sweet and geeky, and you love getting to hang out with her and Chrissy on the days where you've kicked the boys out. "You look beautiful, Bobby."
She seems to blush, looking down at her dress and nodding. It's probably too dressy for her, but your compliment makes her feel better. "Yeah, thanks."
She nudges Steve in the side hard enough for him to bring a hand to it and mutter a weak, "Ow."
"Steve wishes he had a date. He couldn't score one," she teases.
The three of you laugh as he rolls his eyes at the abuse. He'd hoped you would at least be nice to him, but it seems you've followed in Eddie's cruel footsteps. "Har, har. Laugh it up."
Robin takes his arm then, her giggles melting into her words as she smiles wide. "Anyway, we should go check out the punch. I heard someone spiked it and now we've got booze!"
Robin starts walking away with Steve, but when he pauses, she doesn't stop to wait for him. Steve sidles up to Eddie, leaning down to whisper in his ear and keep away from your prying ones. "It's now or never, dude. Don't keep making us listen to your gross pining."
Eddie grumbles, masking his anxiety with annoyance as he rolls his eyes. "I don't pine."
Steve scoffs. "Yeah, right."
Eddie pushes him away, to which Steve raises his hands in mock defense as he goes to catch up with Robin. He waves at you on his way. As if on cue, the music changes to something slow and steady, something romantic, and Eddie thinks the world is mocking him. When Eddie turns back to you, you're smiling at a couple who'd come up to say hi. He waits patiently for them to leave before he holds his kind of shaky hand out to you.
"D'you wanna dance?" he asks after clearing his throat a couple times.
You smile that drop-dead smile at him and he finds it a little harder to breathe. You slip your hand into his palm, and he hopes his isn't sweaty. "Yeah," you mumble fondly, standing close as you let him guide you to a spot within the dancing couples. Your heart beats so fast, drowning on his nervous fondness.
He holds you with timid hands, one in your hand and one on your side. You're just familiar enough that his touch does not feel as awkward as you feel. You try not to melt against him, to lay your head upon his chest and close your eyes, to let him sway you with the gentleness he feels swelling in his chest and tingling in his fingers.
He stares at your face, and it feels natural for him to do so. Your hand on his shoulder slides further to wrap around the back of his neck. He smiles at the soft glow in your eyes, the little sparkle of life that erupts every time you look at him.
"You're really pretty," he whispers as his eyes look over all the glorious features of your face: your soft lips, your kind eyes, your plush cheeks, your adorable nose, your fluttering lashes he wants to feel lay little butterfly kisses on his face.
You look down from his eyes momentarily, hoping the warmth in your cheeks and the shortness of your breath isn't too evident. "This dress was really expensive, so I'm glad you think so–"
He doesn't mean to cut you off, but he does. "I'm not talking about the dress." He can't help it when his hand strays from your hand to hold the side of your face, his thumb brushing the gentlest touch against the apple of your cheek. "You're pretty without the dress."
You stare at him with the biggest, shiniest eyes. He loves when you look at him like this.
Then he realizes maybe he weirded you out.
"N-Not, like, naked! I just meant, y'know, even without the fancy dress, just in regular clothes, too. You're just..." he clears his throat pathetically, "you're really pretty."
You tip your head back to laugh sweetly, the one with the squeaks—the one he really likes because of its sincerity. His hand wraps farther around your waist. You respond—seemingly unconsciously—by setting your other arm on his shoulder. He secures both hands at your waist.
"I know what you meant, Eddie," you giggle, giving him one last squeak just to please him—though he knows you didn't do it on purpose.
He nods, letting his own giddy laugh escape him. "Cool."
A chuckle, one of the ones that goes through your nose as you stifle a grin. You move slowly, like you're trying not to startle an animal, as you set your head on his chest. You step just a slight closer, and he graciously lets his hands wrap tighter around you. His head rests against the top of your heart.
It's close and warm and it makes you both smile. He smells nice, familiar, like the cologne you bought him, deodorant, and cigarettes. Under the music and the sound of his clothes brushing your ear, you can hear the faintest beat of his heart. It's quick, heavy. You can feel it against your cheek if you really focus.
You chuckle so lightly. "Eddie, calm down. Your heart is, like, super fast."
He clears his throat, speaking through his fond haze. "My bad."
He's so nervous. Steve's words play over and over again in his mind. "It's now or never, it's now or never, it's now or never, it's now–" and he is so afraid to pick now that all he does is sway and breathe the scent of your soft perfume, and under that, your—supposedly—scentless lotion.
He's so afraid that he's missed his chance. He knows you love him, but he's stuck on the possibility that you don't love him like you did. Maybe now, after having waited so long, you love him like a best friend, you love him like a brother. Maybe now that he's finally fallen for you, you don't have the capacity to stay low with him.
He's so afraid.
You both sway to the music, moving so slowly. There's a pause, it feels like. You feel like something is supposed to be said or done but...no one is doing it. The music changes again, but neither of you have stopped your slow dance. You rue the moment you have to tear away from him.
But there was a pause.
"Do you want to stop?" you ask gently, hoping against hope that he says no.
And he answers your prayer better than you could have asked for. It's a quick, "absolutely not," that leaves no time for any conceived hesitation.
You're so relieved. "Okay..."
His response is just as immediate. "I like you."
You look up at him, smiling gently. The sight of him warms your heart, all the softness in his big features, all the gleaming in his dark eyes. "I like you, too."
"No, like..." he sighs, struggling to say what he wants to say as his hands find firmer purchase at your waist out of nerves. "I really like you."
You're confused as to how to respond. Smiling strangely and furrowing a brow, you chuckle, "Thank you?"
Not quite. "I mean–"
"Eddie," you pause, donning a playful voice. "You're being weird again."
He wants to laugh but his ears are burning. "What I mean to say is..." now or never, "I fuckin' love you."
Your heart leaps to your throat, and you almost choke on it. It's beating so fast, you feel it in every pulse in your body. "Like..." you think quickly, though your thoughts are jumbled. "Like a friend? Like Steve and Robin."
"Not at all."
You shake your head, thinking his not platonic love for you is too good to be true. "I'm confused."
He's already said it, there's no use in being shy. He chuckles, and then takes a deep breath, and then blows it out. You stare up at him, eyes gleaming and lips parted so delicately. He wants to kiss you.
"I'm..." Breathe. "I'm in love with you, Princess." And then your heart stops. You're surprised you haven't fallen in the middle of the dance floor. He holds you up with all the fondness in his heart. "I was trying not to fall for you, I wasn't going to–" he says it with the same resolve as picking up candy at the gas station, like loving you is such an easy thing to do, "–but then we started hanging out, and you ended up being really, really cool. Then, I sort of just..." He sighs, trying to find the words. "I started really liking you. Then I picked you up for that concert, and you were so gorgeous—you always are. And I picked you up tonight and saw you in this...fuckin' awesome dress, and I couldn't breathe because you're just... You're so beautiful, and–"
You shut him up with a kiss. You sit here and listen to his compliments forever, but you couldn't wait any longer to feel his lips on yours. You've wanted this for so long, craved this kind of intimacy with him since you first saw him and thought he was super weird. And he was, you were right. You often are.
His lips are soft and warm, and you love the feeling of kissing him. It sways in your chest and warms the pit of your stomach, and it tingles in your fingers and ears and you just...lean into it like it's such a natural thing. Your hand wraps around the back of his head, tangling in his hair to pull him closer. His hands tighten around your waist and pull you flush against him. Happy hands hold the other, an innocent desperation to be near.
Fuck, you love him and his stupid anxiety. You love him in all his strangeness, his eccentricities, his eager hands and giddy eyes. Kissing him is one of the best decisions you've made, and it's one you hope you can continue to make forever and ever and ever.
When your lips pull apart and you're breathing each other's air, you keep your eyes closed as your lashes flutter. "I love you, too," you whisper, pulling him even closer. Your affection for him had only grown over the last few months, from a swelling warmth to a bursting excitement that grows still with every Eddie-ism.
"Sorry it took so long," he replies, your lips brushing with his words as his hand raises to brush your cheek.
You shrug lazily. "I'm glad it happened at all," you're still so close. You forget the music is still playing, you forget people are dancing to something fast and loud, you forget people are probably staring and talking and laughing and dancing and carrying on while you and Eddie are stuck in your own world, confessing and kissing and loving.
You chuckle, resting your head on his chest for a moment before lifting up again. "Chrissy'll be ecstatic."
He laughs, his hand splayed along your lower back as he rubs the spot affectionately. "Yeah, well... They certainly are."
You look over to where he motions with his head, giggling when you see Steve and Robin beaming and throwing thumbs up at the two of you, as though they were being subtle in their celebration. If you look over just a bit, you can see Chrissy smiling like it was her being kissed and loved on so sweetly. She pulls Jason with her as she joins the other two in your success—which is, in turn, their success.
You snort. "You have weird friends."
"Correction: we have weird friends."
What's mine is yours, what's yours is mine. You're okay with that.
You get giddy all over again looking at his face. "I'm so fuckin' happy right now." You lift up on your toes and kiss him again, drinking in his loving affection. When you pull away, you smile wide.
"Do you wanna go to the movies with me?" he asks, bringing an eager hand up to cup your chin.
You smile, containing your laugh. "You won't stand me up?"
He laughs, a big one that rumbles in his entire body and spreads to your own. "No, I won't stand you up," he says. "I'll open your door like a gentleman, I'll buy your snacks, I'll drive you back home and give you a goodnight kiss."
Your voice is soft, though the music shouldn't permit it to be. "Can we go back to your place?"
"Mine?" he wonders. Yours is probably better, he thinks.
"Yours is better." It's like you've read his mind, and you need to prove him wrong with his own phrasing.
He shrugs, "It's small."
You respond with your own shrug, holding him a little longer. Your thumb rubs against the back of his neck. "It feels like a home."
He hums. "Not very gentlemanly, taking you back to my place."
You snort. "Not like my parents'll notice." The way you say it makes his heart hurt. They wouldn't realize I was gone. "Your house is lived in," you say with a new gentleness. "I want to be with you." And then you get shy, shrugging one shoulder and slanting your chin down to meet it. "And maybe I just want to make out with my boyfriend."
Eddie blushes all over at the word, like he's a school boy flirting with his playground crush. "Right?" you ask quickly. "I can call you that?"
"Please do."
You purse your lips and giggle at his eagerness. You can't help it, you kiss him again. You love the way he kisses, full of smiles and warmth and a hint of desperation.
You pull back, your hand on his chest. "Does this mean you'll let me buy you gifts again?"
He rolls his eyes and laughs lightly, shaking his head before conceding with a grin. "Within reason." He couldn't say no to you, especially not now.
Your hands sit fondly at either side of his face. Your thumbs brush his skin. "I can deal with that."
And this time, he kisses you.
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Stranger Things taglist: @activebliss @queermaxwooo @life-on-needs @killerqueen-ofwillowgreen @emmalee-01 @sw34ter-w34ther @gublur @allofmaris @redwineandnicotine @the-cryptid @katsukis1wife @chaoticcancer @papichulo120627 @emistrash @jjmaybankswifes-blog @thegr8estpuff @lover-of-books-and-tea @xxhanililoxx Eddie the Banished taglist: @eddiiiieeee @hb8301 @lovemegood @munsaniac @digital-charlie @eiriancrow @littleblondesoprano @alexxavicry @samz31 @sparkletash @fandomgirl17 @marjoriea13 @akiratoro420 @mewchiili @mischieftom
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sorrowsofsilence · 2 days
Text
Sinful Inflictions
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Pairing: Nicholas Ruffilo x Fem!reader (oneshot)
Words: 1.9k
Warnings: Smut 18+ (PnV, pls wrap it b4 u tap it, fem!fingering, male!receiving), mentions of religion, religious themes, and slight anti-religion.
Prompt:
“Are you ready to pray to me?” He asked, “Then get on your knees and bow.”
It's easy to ignore the eyes of God when you've always had a thing for the priest's son.
Tags: @sammyjoeee @cookiesupplier @th4t-em0-k1d @dsireland86 @whenthesummerdies @spicywhenspeaking @gretaswhore28 @veronicaphoenix @lma1986 @calleyx13 @somewhere-diamond @talialovesmiw @auratheopossumwitch @blackveilomens @skulliecadaver-blog @darkmxgician
(some tags are from older one-shots, so if you want on or off the tag list pls let me know! :3)
THIS IS A FANFICTION USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THESE PEOPLE WOULD DO THE THINGS IN THE STORY OR ACT THE WAY THEY DO IN THE STORY IN REAL LIFE! IT IS FICTION! IT IS JUST FOR FUN! <3
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You patted down the way-too-short floral skirt you dared to wear upon entering the church, dipping your head gently in greeting toward the priest as he stuck out his hand. Your lips reluctantly landed on his aging skin, hesitating for a moment.
“Good morning Father,” You said warmly, but behind your tone lingered distaste. He smiled as he greeted you back and your eyes shifted from his in aversion, before landing on the gentlemen ahead: His son.
Nicholas smiled at you, his gaze enticing as he dipped his fingers into the holy water, his middle and ring finger twirling in the pool for a moment too long. His hand trailed towards his chest, acknowledging the holy trinity in a cross as he stared, completely fixated.
A faint warmth tinted your nose as you followed, your fingers grazing along the water in doubt, following a fabricated praise. Nicholas’ eyes followed your every move before his eyebrow raised slightly. You gave him a polite nod as you walked past him, your shoulder brushing his chest lightly.
You sat down on one of the wooden pews, crossing your legs in anticipation. Would he sit next to you today?
You grew up with Nick, always attached at the hip. Your favourite day of the week was Sundays because you knew you’d get to spend time with the boy you’d been crushing on for years. As the two of you aged, neither had made any moves, despite the lasting tension always lingering between the two of you; until last week.
Last week Nick finally took a leap of faith, pushing you into the basement bathroom, and kissing you with complete desperation.
“I have been wanting to taste you for years.”
Smiling at his words you had pulled his body against yours, your hips rutting together. As you moaned against his lips Nick’s hands ran along your scalp before you then pulled away.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” You had said, “Not under the eyes of God.”
Nick had scoffed, rolling his eyes as his lips attached to your neck, nipping and grazing at the skin, “I know you don’t believe any of it. You only ever come because I have to.”
His lips had trailed back up towards your ear, his warm breath cascading against you, “Plus if there’s a God, it’s fucking me.”
The two of you haven’t spoken since the kiss, but you squeezed your legs together in fervour, unsure of what today would bring.
As if he knew you were thinking of him, Nicholas slid into the same pew as you, gliding across the wood with ease. His slacks were loose, contrasting with his tight grey button-up that had the sleeves rolled just above the nape of his elbow.
He leaned into your side and your heart quickened at the minimal touch, averting your eyes as his devilish smile transcribed sinful thoughts.
“You want to get out of here?”
You looked around slowly before keeping your eyes ahead, worried others would hear as the choir began to sing, “Is that such a good idea Nicholas?”
His name fell off your tongue in a sultry tone, something that made him shift in his seat as he sat back up, facing the front.
“I need you,” he whispered.
With a racing heart, you dared not look toward him as your face warmed, “How?”
“In every way that you’ll let me.”
The breath that lingered in your lungs hitched in your throat, suffocating your mind with reprehensible images. You crossed your legs, squeezing your thighs together in shame as you imagined Nicholas’ hands roaming your bare skin. You had dreamed a dozen times of his disgraceful fingers pulling an orgasm from you in the church basement, your tongue bowing to his need and taking his moans as if they were yours.
You knew how wrong it would be to sneak off and succumb to lust, especially under the holy eyes of God in a place of worship; but the rush of how sinful it was, made you all the more lascivious.
“Meet me by the storage closet in five,” He spoke softly, but excitement radiated off of him as he slid off the pew and turned back towards the entrance. You didn’t turn to watch him, but swallowed with furor and counted down, waiting the allotted time.
Years of desire that had been pushed away led to this moment, and as your chest heaved nervously you excused yourself from the service, refusing to look at the congregation as you walked up the carpeted floor, entering the door that held the staircase to the basement.
With shakey legs, you followed the stairs down and turned a corner before being tugged toward someone.
Nicholas smiled down at you, his eyes lidded in infatuation as he wrapped his arms around you. He pulled you close against him, the heat radiating off of his body while he began running a hand along your back.
“What do you mean in every way?” You pressed your head against his chest as you took in a deep breath.
“Don’t pretend to be so innocent,” his low chuckle vibrated as he pulled out a key from his pocket, and unwrapped his limbs from your own. Nick reached for the nob of the storage closet, unlocking it before pulling your wrist, and beckoning you inside.
He quickly locked it, tossing the key into his slacks before turning to face you, and pushing you back against the wall with his hands. You watched as he quickly licked his lips in anticipation, before gracing you with a sly smile.
“I can’t hold myself back anymore,” He said as he rested his forehead against yours. Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment as you tried not to smile, your hips swaying against his as your stomach churned. Your hands ran up his shirt before resting clasped at the back of his neck, holding him.
“Tell me you feel the same,” He breathed, and you nodded, opening your eyes to meet his smokey irises. You watched each other, waiting.
He pleaded silently for an answer, and without hesitating you placed your lips against his in desperation, pulling him closer toward you as he moaned into the kiss.
Nick’s hand began to roam underneath your skirt, grabbing at the skin before smiling into your caress, “You didn’t wear shorts, and you’re wearing a thong?”
You felt him stiffen below you, his slacks tightening against your exposed thigh.
“I guess I did,” You laughed softly, letting your hands run up his long dark hair, clawing delicately at his scalp.
He kissed you again, this time with more fervour and hunger, ready to devour your shameful soul. His tongue danced along your bottom lip in a lustful beat as he allowed himself to dip his fingers in your underwear.
Your body clenched in longing as you began to push into his hand, desperate for his fingers to graze your adorning skin. You craved Nick’s fingers, and you needed him to know.
“Please,” You begged into his mouth, “Touch me.”
He chuckled at your plea but obeyed, his tattooed fingers parting your desire as he ran them earnestly between your folds. Your abdomen twisted as his palm brushed your clit, before his fingers sunk through your arousal.
The fabric of your skirt rode up your thighs, exposing Nicholas’ immoral actions. He pulled away from your lips to watch, his mouth agape in thirst as he pumped his fingers in and out, curling them skillfully.
Your legs began to buckle and your brows furrowed in pleasure, a quiet whimper crawling from your throat as Nicholas then caught your eyes. A slutty smile splayed on his lips as he proudly fucked you with his fingers in a synthetic sacrament.
The sound of your heavy breathing took over the small, musty, room as your peak built in your stomach, ready to be released. It didn’t take long for you to come, and Nicholas praised you in divinity.
In a ritualistic fashion, he pulled his fingers from you, placing them toward your lips. As if a new ordinance he then nodded for you to suck, and you did, licking his fingers clean of your sin.
Nick groaned unholy words as he blessed himself with the remnants of your orgasm, before tugging at your top.
You began to unbutton your blouse, and he followed, undoing his collared shirt. You both threw the garments to the ground, and Nick reached behind you, unclasping your bra to expose your chest.
“Are you ready to pray to me?” He asked, taking a step back in admiration for your body, before grabbing your hand and placing it on his waistband. You nodded eagerly.
“Then get on your knees and bow.”
You lowered to the ground in submission as you pulled his slacks down his legs, staring at the outline of his erection between the thin layer of his boxers. You tugged the underwear down, wrapping your hand softly around Nick’s arousal.
His hand found the back of your head as he pulled you toward him early, and you hungrily took him in your mouth, allowing your tongue to explore his skin.
You worshiped his body, bobbing your head in a rhythmic pattern as your hand stroked what was left. Your eyes flicked upward, watching Nick’s gaze fixated on your actions, as if he was in disbelief this was really happening.
“Jesus Christ,” He whimpered, hips beginning to thrust into your mouth.
You closed your eyes as you consumed him, your body shaking with lust and greed as you sucked.
“Baptise me,” you begged, and Nick laughed, pushing your head further down himself, forcing you to gag against his cock.
“I want to feel you wrapped around me,” He moaned as you gargled, pushing away to cough. You sucked in a deep breath as he pulled you off the ground, turning your body so you faced the wall.
Nicholas lifted the back of your skirt, a deep grumble erupting from his throat as his eyes devoured you while he stroked himself.
“Bend over and spread your legs,” He commanded and you pushed your chest into the wall, arching your back as far as you could to expose your ass toward your saviour.
You felt Nick’s fingers graze through your folds again, pushing his fingers into you in preparation before aligning himself from behind. You pressed your hips back toward him in desperation, anticipating the feeling of him filling you.
Finally, Nick pushed between your arousal and you cried, your unholy sounds masked by the sound of preaching above. The music of the gospels veiled the disgrace as he pounded into you relentlessly.
His fingers dug into the skin of your hips in lust as he gave into your body, the feeling of your combined souls inflicting a new feeling of complete adoration and need. Your bodies curated an insatiable yearning; an appetite of passion unleashing.
One of Nick’s hands reached to grip your hair, tugging your head back in libidinous urgency, hormones taking over.
Skin slapped together and you moaned from Nick’s thrusts, his body giving you everything he could. You wanted this feeling to last forever and you reached behind, gripping onto his hand that adorned you.
“There is no need to repent, for I am your mercy,” He said, fucking you senselessly with complete greed.
You didn’t care if God’s eyes were watching; you were ready to worship a new man.
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off to hell i go woops
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eternityofend · 20 hours
Text
Another type of milk.
PAIRING: Francis Mosses x Female!Reader ( Slight Doppelganger!Francis Mosses x Reader. )
Requested: Can I request something for Francis, the Milkman? Like the scenario is: Y'all be talking then, they do it under the desk while the reader is working?
MDNI +18, NSFW.
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You scroll through your phone, time ticking with each passing second as you get even more bored. Your job as a doorman was nice however the hours needed to work were plenty enough of time for you to wish you had never taken up such a job in the first place.
You hear a tap on the window as you see Francis in front of you, holding a carton of milk in his hands, his movements were sluggish and his eye bags were darker than when you last saw him.
You ignored the concern building in you and tried to find your wallet to pay for the milk you ordered from Francis, keyword: tried. You frantically searched your pockets and the drawers but there was no sign of a leather wallet in all of the places you searched.
Francis stares at you with a blank expression, completely minding his own business as he didn't question the amount of time it took for you to find your wallet.
"Hey.. can I pay you up in a different way?"
Francis raises his eyebrows, skeptical about your request but nods his head; far too kept up with how much time this delivery was taking. He wasn't used to social interaction anyway, he just wanted to get out.
You motion for him to come into your office, opening the gate for him and closing it once he went through.
A few minutes later, Francis knocks on your door and you let him in, he's still holding onto the carton of milk which you help him put on your desk.
"Mmmm.. so what's this different method of payment are you talking about?.." Francis mutters, his voice husky with the tiredness he felt from his job, tone as curious as ever.
You walk up to him, putting your hand on his chest while smiling innocently.
Francis looked at you with a curious expression, gulping as he was nervous about what you were going to do with him.
Francis looked at your eyelashes, and your pretty eyes, trying to distract himself from the weird thoughts he was thinking; perhaps he was watching too much inappropriate stuff, he should limit himself on that.
"Do you live alone?" You asked, knowing well what his answer would be.
Francis tore his gaze away from you, now staring at your wall. "Yes.."
He hears a small laugh come from you, and his body feels tingly with extreme nervousness. Why were you laughing? Did you expect him to have a roommate or something?
"So you have no one to milk you at home then?" You whisper in Francis's ears, watching him tense up as he caved in to your voice and touch.
You saw the way his knees trembled to hold onto his body, cheeks turning redder than the scarlet milk he frequently delivers.
You put a hand on his cheek, making him look at you with a smile on your face. "Let me help you, that's my payment." You utter, watching his eyes widen as he came across a conflicted statement-- not knowing what to choose.
You really didn't have to wait long.
Francis stares up at you, hand on his mouth as he leans against the wall, ears flushing with blush as he attempted to conceal his noises from you, afraid of someone hearing.
You rubbed your shoe against his bulge, looking at him with a mischievous look on your face, wanting to make him cum from a dry orgasm before you fully fuck him.
"Ah~ Hnn~ Ngn~" Francis moans out, his sounds muffled by how hard he was biting on his hand, throwing his head back at how lewd your method to pleasure him was.
His eyes were teary and his cheeks were flushed, he looked as if he already got fucked by you even if you hadn't advanced that fast yet.
You grin, pressing on his erection with the heel of your shoe-- enjoying the way he stuttered, gripping onto your leg with his free hand.
A tap on the window stops you from admiring him longer, and Francis panics. He couldn't run out because it would be suspicious if the visitor were to see someone come from below your desk, he didn't want to spread rumours as well if someone recognized him.
So he just sat there, both hands covering his mouth.
Wait.. what were you doing?
Francis bites onto his hand, heart pulsing as he felt your shoe rub more against his dick, you were crazy! Why were you still continuing?!
You grinned, twirling your hair as you faced a doppelganger of one of the visitors, not even having to check the ID to know it was a doppelganger.
You had to admit, it sure mimicked the resident properly, but if it weren't for the real Francis already being below your desk, you would've let the doppelganger of Francis in, there were barely any differences as well.
"Oh? My appearance..? I don't quite follow.." The doppelganger muttered, trying to keep calm as he felt rage from how fast you figured out he was a doppelganger.
You were not only a pretty doorman but a smart one too, the doppelganger held back on transforming, wanting to see if he could still convince you that he was the real one.
You chuckle at the doppelganger's confused expression, adding a bit more pressure to your shoe as you pressed on Francis's erection, hearing a small moan come out of him.
The doppelganger's eyes widened, looking around as he was confused at where the noise came from.
What a shame, you'd so tease the real Francis using the doppelganger if only you weren't allowed to spread the fact that Doppelgangers existed.
"I'm sorry, but I don't quite think I can let you in."
You rang the DDD and let them handle the situation, completely forgetting about Francis beneath you, trembling at how much pressure he was receiving.
By the time you remembered about him, you were already finished with the doppelganger situation, seeing him all teary and red just from your shoe.
You laugh, lifting his face up as you stop rubbing your shoe against his dick, grinning at him with a new idea in mind.
"Let's start with the milking process now, shall we, Milkman? But first, why don't you eat me out first?"
You catch his flustered expression as he nodded, moving his hands all the way to your thighs as he got rid of your panties.
Francis moves closer to your pussy, licking on it as his eyes widened from the taste, it was much different than the milk he was used to.
You let out a breathy moan, spreading your legs wider as you felt Francis shove his tongue straight into you, eating you out as if he was a man that was starved for years.
His tongue flicks against your clit, and you let out a full moan, suddenly closing your thighs around Francis's head, he didn't seem to mind however.
"Shit... you sure know how to eat pussy.." You mumble, biting on your lip as you run your fingers through his hair, enjoying the sensation of his cold wet tongue.
Francis's hooked nose makes you moan as it pressed against your pussy because of how close he was.
You moan, throwing your head back when you feel Francis's tongue licking on your clit, lapping it up as if it was water.
Your grip on his hair tightens, clenching down on his tongue as you orgasmed.
Francis moans beneath you, the vibration running across your entire body making you shake and tremble.
You breathe out, your pussy pulsing while Francis explored your insides, eager to drink up all of your cum, not letting a single drop go to waste.
You pull Francis away from your dick, and your pussy twitches at the sight. His eyes are half-lidded, staring at you while his tongue and mouth were filled with your cum.
Francis smiles, and swallows your cum right in front of you, making you bite your lip from how aroused you were.
"We aren't done yet, Milkman." You grin.
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But apparently the story is done! I hope you enjoyed the story, this is my second time writing smut :)
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rainydayathogwarts · 22 hours
Text
Open arms - Emily Prentiss
Smut - the way this fic has been sitting half written in my drafts forever. Go me for finally getting it done. Summary: Emily can't help but approach her ex in a dimly-lit bar wc: 2.1k
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Emily thought that the night would be nice and relaxing for her and the team, celebrating another closed case at their favourite bar, their laughter drowning out the sounds of other people's conversations in the dim-lit restaurant. That was until her eyes locked in on a familiar figure standing near the bar, most definitely accompanied by someone. Emily froze, her hand tightly gripping her drink, and audibly gasped when you turned around, exposing your face to her.
"Y/n?" She whispered, catching Penelope and Derek's attention, who both turned to look at her. "You okay there Prentiss?" But she really wasn't. You were her only partner who ever stayed up waiting for her to come home from a case, genuinely concerned about her. You held her in your arms, letting her just sit there and open up if she wanted to. If she didn't, it didn't bother you, and you showered her with love nonetheless, always managing to pull a smile from her. And you were definitely the best in bed. Having you withering under her, relentlessly crying out her name was an image Emily would never forget.
She regretted leaving you every day, but it would keep you safe. After seeing what Hotch had to go through, she knew it was the smartest decision. Now that you were there though, in person after over a year of being apart, she wouldn't be able to stay away from you. If you would let her that was. She remembered your reaction, how you completely broke down, calling bullshit on her 'keeping you safe' excuse.
"I'm fine." She said, bringing herself out of her trance to take a long sip of her drink. "That an ex of yours?" Derek questioned, looking at you, now talking to a friend. You looked gorgeous, he thought. Your short black dress showed off your long legs and had a low cut to display your biggest weapon, the heels you wore flexing your calf muscles in the nicest way possible. Your stunning smile exposed your white teeth while a hand flipped your hair over your shoulder. He wondered how a dumbass like Emily was able to get you.
Emily's head shot back in your direction when she heard coughing, only to find out it was you, your face now going red as you choked on your drink, your friend, who Emily now realised she knew from when you dated, rubbing your back. Oh no... When the coughing stopped, you immediately looked back at her, confirming your suspicions. She returned your eye contact, awkwardly waving at you before you were suddenly facing away from her, refusing for the interaction to continue, earning a sympathetic look from your friend.
Emily heard a chorus of "Oof" and "Oh"s from the team, who were all cringing at the interaction. "Shut up." Emily groaned, stealing a shot from in front of Derek and downing it. She coughed twice, ignoring Derek's complaints, and turned to Spencer who was now telling them a statistic about exes. "It was actually found that 44% of Americans get back with their exes at some point after breaking up. And that only includes relationships post-break up instead of one night stands, so I'd say your chances are pretty high."
As much as Emily was unimpressed that Reid was giving her dating advice, she found herself walking up to you the minute your friend left, leaving you alone at the bar. Better me than anyone else shooting their shot, she thought. It was only when she stood right next to you that she realised she had no idea what to say and that the entire team was probably watching their interaction. She cleared her throat, muttering a small "Hey." You jumped slightly, rotating on the bar stool to face your ex-girlfriend. Emily expect you to frown, thrown your drink in her face even, but to her shock, you cracked a small smile at her. "Hey Em". "Can I sit?" She asked, shifting her weight from one leg to another.
You nodded, watching her as she sat. She looked different. She had cut her hair into bangs and wore her hair pin straight instead of the loose curls she'd put them in. She wore a low cut black top with black jeans as well as her go to combat boots. You assumed she came here straight from work. When you looked back up at her face, she was still staring at you, her gaze stuck on your thighs. "Um, can I get you a drink or something?" Her head shot up and she shook it "No, I've had enough to drink. Thanks." A long awkward silence followed and you looked over at the table she had come from, watching as all of her friends' heads shot in the opposite direction apart from one of them, still cluelessly observing you.
"I'm sorry - I shouldn't have-" "No!" You cut her off, cheeks going rosy. "Why don't we go for a walk or something?"
That walk led you both to the side of the road, waiting for a taxi as you made small talk, no discussion of going to either of your apartments until you were both sat in the back of the taxi on the way to your flat. Emily's hand rested on your thigh, both of your sides pressed against each other, faces mere inches apart as her free hand snaked around your waist, pulling you closer to her. You felt your desire for Emily grow, squeezing your thighs together to get any amount of friction.
Emily's eyes caught the movement, smiling slightly as she felt her own core heat up for you. She leaned towards you to look out of the window, pressing her tits up against you as she tried to see how far away you were from the apartment, making small talk while you waited. The second the taxi driver pulled the car over, she was tossing her money at him and following you out of the car, both her hands resting on your hips as you led her into your fancy building and towards the elevator. The second you were in the elevator, pressing the button to the right floor, her hands were wrapping around your waist and she was pressing her lips against the soft skin of your neck.
You grabbed her hand when the elevator doors opened, leading the way to your apartment and frantically opening and shutting the door before you turned around, throwing yourself into Emily's arms. You slammed your lips onto hers, wrapping your arms around her neck as you pressed your body against hers. Her hands were immediately under the skirt of your dress, groping the fat of your ass in her hands. You pulled away from the kiss, muttering "couch" to Emily, who complied, bending down slightly so she could wrap her arms around the back of your legs and picking you up.
You squealed as she walked you over to your big couch, having forgotten about her FBI agent strength. She dropped you on the couch, crawling over you but you pushed her back so she fell flat on her back on the large couch, throwing a leg over her hips to straddle her. She tried sitting up but you pushed her back, kissing her again so she would give in, letting you take control of the kiss. Her hands trailed up your body until they reached your tits and she tugged at the front of your dress, letting them spill out the front of it. You gasped, and she took your shock to her advantage, throwing her hips up into yours and rolling over so she was on top of you.
Her hands were instantly on your tits, pulling and twisting at your nipple, the other one in her mouth. "Em, Emily!" You begged, trying to grind your hips into hers but she wouldn't listen, taking her time kissing all over your body. When she couldn't reach any more skin due to the fabric of your dress, she fully separated from you, ordering you to turn around so she could undo the zipper. So you got up onto your knees, allowing Emily to undo your dress and pull it above your head, before her hands were wandering again, down your stomach and into the skimpy panties you wore.
She moaned into your ear, feeling how wet you were before both her hands were at your hips again and she was tugging you towards her as she fell backwards, landing you in her laps. She welcomed your kisses, tightly gripping your hips as you ground your cunt on her jean-clad skin. Eventually, you got desperate, tugging her shirt up so you could feel underneath it, hungrily reaching for her tits. At your whine, she finishes the job for you, tossing her shirt somewhere in the room before your hands were back behind her, unclasping her bra.
Before you manage to throw yourself onto Emily even further, you feel her hand under your panties, immediately searching for your clit, which she finds in mere seconds. You hear yourself begging for her, struggling to hold yourself above her. Emily's hands manhandle you so your back in pressed against hers, your legs spread in front of you. Her hands begin wandering once more, and she inserts two fingers into your warm core. You cry out, arching your back as Emily continues to suck hickeys onto your neck.
Her unoccupied hand plays with your tits, alternating which one she massages. Your head rests in the crook of her next, trying not to buck your hips into her hand as she continues fingering you. Your chest heaves with each breath you take, and you're too far into pleasure land to think of how much of a mistake you were making. You feel the familiar knot building up in your stomach and whimper, your hands reaching below you to grasp Emily's thigh. Moaning loudly with an arch of your back, you cum on Emily's hand. Emily, who is whispering praises in your ear and brushing your hair out of your face with her free hand.
With the effects of your orgasm now gone and you catching your breath, you begin to internally cringe. Why on earth did you think this was a good idea? You will yourself to turn around in Emily's arms, whispering "Your turn", fully aware that she wouldn't say yes. "No baby, it's okay. This is just about you." You nod, allowing yourself to fall onto the couch beside her. "I'm gonna go get cleaned up." Dragging yourself up from the couch, your legs still shaking, you shut the bathroom door before Emily gets the time to follow you.
You wrap a free towel around your torso, mentally cussing yourself out, thinking of a way to get Emily out of your house. The clock on the wall reads 3:28. It's late. You should go home. Repeating the words to yourself, you open the bathroom door to be met with the tall brunette. She smiles widely, a hand coming to your hip to bring you close and kiss you softly. You return her kiss but can't bring yourself to do the same with a smile. She senses the change in your behaviour and you take that as your chance to tell her: "It's late. You should go." You look down and away from her face so you can't see the way her smile drops. "Right. Um, this was fun." Your hum is enough of an answer to her and you practically chase her to the door once she's fully clothed.
Once the door is shut behind her, you peek through the peep hole to see her bring a hand up to her forehead, squeezing her eyes shut. She calls someone on the phone, someone you can only imagine was at the table with her at the bar. Listening closely through the door, you hear "No Derek, I did not win her heart back. She's really done with me."
But it's late. You should go sleep.
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halsteadlover · 2 days
Text
𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐨𝐮
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• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Fem!Reader.
• Requested by @hart-kinsella: Maybe him and mc are working undercover (but they're married in real life) and a guy tries too hard with her (takes her by the arm and invades her personal space as well as trying to flirt with her with words) and then Jay tells him that and punches him. They could be at a club like that one episode when he and Hailey (and Kevin, maybe? I don't remember exactly) were undercover - unfortunately I don't recall which season it was.
• Warnings: mention of drugs, violence.
• Word count: 1543.
• A/N: I know this is not my best work and I apologize 😭 but I managed to quickly write it so I can post something ❤️ and tell me why I stayed for half an hour staring at the wall to think about a title and I ended up with this one 😭 btw love you all and thank you always for your support
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It was no secret Jay sometimes hated undercover missions. Especially if you were involved.
He couldn’t help it. He knew you were an amazing cop, one of the best he ever worked with, capable of defending yourself in any circumstances but since you were also his wife, he couldn’t help but worry about you.
And this case was no different.
You and Jay were undercover due to a drug trafficking case, him as a potential buyer interested in purchasing the drugs, you as his work partner who had set up the connection with Joshua Ryder, the criminal suspected of being the gang’s leader.
Jay was on the verge of losing his mind, not being able to stay still and acting like nothing was happening.
You were both in a club, sitting in a VIP room while you talked with Ryder and convince him to make a deal with you. The rest of the team were instead in some fake company’s vans listening to your conversations in real time.
However, things started to go wrong when Jay noticed one of the traffickers approaching you in a way he didn’t like at all.
“Are you here to do business or watch her like a hawk?” the gang leader had insisted for the umpteenth time while for the umpteenth time Jay directed his gaze towards you who continued to giggle with fake enthusiasm with one of Ryder’s henchmen.
You were uncomfortable, as with any mission that involved getting close to another man other than your husband. You knew it was your job, that you had a duty to fulfill and your private life had to stay out of it but sometimes it wasn’t that easy.
“You sure you don’t want anything to drink, sugar?” Asked the man who insistently continued to hit on you. You didn’t even know his name – or care to know – but you smiled anyway with fake naivety, slightly shaking your head.
You quickly glanced at Jay who was sitting in front of you, noticing he was busy talking to Ryder, but his gaze met yours for a moment. It was brief but in that simple look you understood he too had noticed that guy’s insistence. Jay had his arms crossed over his chest, breathing heavy, his jaw clenched as he saw how this man insisted on getting closer to you.
He was disgusting, he smelled of alcohol from miles away, and you had to repress the urge to vomit and the instinct to punch his ugly face.
The man approached further, sliding on the sofa towards you and you moved back, trying to create further distance but without making it obvious and making him suspicious.
“You know, my boss is quite jealous of his employees, you shouldn’t be so close to me,” you falsely giggled but he didn’t seem to get the hint, in fact, it seemed to amuse him even more.
“We’re all one big family here darling, what’s mine is someone else’s and what’s someone else’s is mine…” He rested an arm on the back of the sofa behind your shoulders and although he hadn’t even touched you, you felt your skin crawl and the urgent need to throw yourself into an acid bath. “If you want to do business with us your boss will have to learn how to share… Especially with such a beautiful and gracious girl like you.”
The desire to kick him in the balls was intense and you wondered what kind of woman would really fall for these words.
Jay was on the verge of losing his mind.
He was trying.
He was really trying but it was so fucking hard to stay still and not react when that son of a bitch was being a creep with his wife. Ryder was talking to him about something he didn’t even care about, but he couldn’t pay attention and process a single word, too focused on you.
He couldn’t help but glance at you every now and then, running a hand on his jaw in frustration and starting to fidget on the spot as he saw the man getting closer and closer to you and invading your personal space, like touching your hair or caress your shoulder.
It wasn’t jealousy, he could never be jealous of a filthy man like him but he deeply hated not being able to do anything to keep you safe without ruining the whole mission. He hated seeing you so tense and uncomfortable although from the way your hands were balled into fists in your lap, he knew you too were itching to punch him.
He hated having to pretend you were simply his work partner and not his wife.
But he swore he saw red when that man’s clammy hand rested on your face and your eyes widened at the contact as your entire body froze in place.
Fuck the mission and these motherfuckers too.
Jay lost control.
That slimy hand on you had driven him crazy and before he knew it, he had stood up and grabbed the man’s hand with his, punching him in the face with all the strength in his body. He didn’t catch the gasp that escaped you and he didn’t even care he had just ruined any chance of doing ‘business’ with Ryder along with the possibility of framing him. While his fist hit that bastard again and again, all he could do was think of those hands on you.
“That’s my fucking wife you motherfucker!” Jay screamed in his face, holding him by the collar of his shirt as the man spat out blood, struggling to keep up with the fury of the undercover detective. “Let me catch you again putting a hand on her or even just looking her way, I’ll enjoy breaking your fingers one by one before throwing you in jail.”
Everything was now chaos.
The team, who in the meantime had witnessed everything through your hidden cameras, burst in when they realized the situation had now worsened to the point of no return. You tried to pull Jay away from the man, but it was totally useless, not when he was so furious that your strength was no match for his.
Ryder was fuming when he realized you were cops and you had tried to frame him, swearing he’d make you pay dearly while Kevin handcuffed him along with the rest of his goons.
“Baby,” you called back but Jay didn’t look at you right away. You stood outside the club under Voight’s orders, a hand on his bicep and caressing him as you tried to get his attention. You were alone in a little corner, waiting for your boss for his inevitable fury.
“You okay?” He asked, his voice low but finally focusing his gaze on you.
You let out a laugh trying to diffuse the tension, you hated seeing him so furious. “You are ask me if I’m okay? I’m not the one who just punched a guy.”
He sighed, tearing his eyes away from you as he ran his hands over his face with frustration. Your heart clenched at the sight of his red and bruised knuckles. “I wish I had killed him to be honest.”
“Jay I don’t want you to get hurt because of me,” you replied, taking his hands in yours and leaving a kiss on the back of them, smiling when you saw his hard features start to soften at the gesture. “I could’ve handled him, I wouldn’t have let him go any further.”
“I know you could baby, you’re amazing,” he softy spoke, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. He took a step towards you, closing the distance enough you had to slightly lift your head up to look into his eyes. “But there’s no way on earth that I would have sat there and watched while that son of a bitch put his hands on you.”
He cupped your face with his hands, his thumbs caressing your heated cheeks. “No one gets to put a hand on you, much less against your will. You’re my wife, I’m the only bastard who can touch you and I will gladly kill anyone who dares to do it instead of me, am I clear?”
You let out a breath, almost on the verge of passing out right there and now in his arms. “God baby I want to suck your dick so bad right now. I love when you get so protective of me, it’s so hot.”
Jay burst out laughing, his stomach clenching in anticipation knowing you would stand by your words. He pulled you into a hug and you rested your head on his chest as you wrapped your arms around him. “I’ll always keep you safe, I won’t let anyone touch a single hair of your head, I hope you know it. God knows I would set the city on fire to protect you.”
“I know baby, I love you so damn much it’s insane,” you deeply inhaled the smell of his cologne, leaving a kiss on his shirt coated chest. “But I hope it’s worth it because Voight is coming and I think he’s ready to take us both out,” you continued when you broke away from the hug and saw your boss coming up behind Jay, a furious look on his face.
“Oh yeah, it’ll always be worth it, especially for the amazing blowjob you’ll give me later.”
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deunmiu-dessie · 2 days
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ⅲ▬ ⁽ 𝒹𝑒𝓂𝑜𝓃 ⁾²
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part one
𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ♡︎ : ₇˖₅ₖ ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡
𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ♡︎ : mdni----- unedited, NSFW,  explicit content, teratophilia, demon/human, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie, cunnilingus (both receiving), overstimulation. ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎
𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ♡︎: with your escape from your kidnapping, you find yourself now stranded in a world unfamiliar to you, how will you get home?
꒰m!demon ₊⊹ afab!reader꒱
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𝒴 ou find yourself lost in thought, pondering how long you've been sitting outside. Your trusty (albeit broken) silver watch stubbornly displays midnight, but time seems irrelevant in this alternate world where minutes stretch into eternity. The rhythmic patter of raindrops keeps you company on the balcony, drawing you in with its soothing melody. Despite the allure of a cozy bed mere steps away, you remain entranced by the stormy night. Rain has always been your sanctuary, a source of comfort in turbulent times. And much like the rain, you find beauty in the fog that accompanies it, shrouding the world in a veil of mystery and distorting the passage of time.
In this enchanting world, you find yourself drawn to its allure. The raindrops fall delicately, resembling glittering diamonds, while the thick and mesmerizing fog gracefully enveloped everything in sight. Despite its seemingly monotonous nature, the sound of rain became a melody that resonated with your soul, especially during the serene nights when your neighborhood fell into a peaceful slumber. However, you were no longer in the comfort of your own home. Instead, there was a certain allure in venturing outside in this strange world during your unconventional waking hours, embracing the rain as it transformed the radiant light of the two moons into a muted glow amidst the stormy clouds. The lantern lights shimmered briefly, casting a magical glow before fading away. This was the embodiment of tranquility.
Your eyes trail to where the last lantern light on the garden flickers out, and your body turns rigid as something, tall, lanky, and dark comes slinking your way, well not necessarily your way, but down the path in your direction. The rain intensifies, drumming against the balcony railing and soaking your legs and feet. Perhaps your mind is playing tricks on you? You were stressed and scared. A crashing sound of thunder startles you, a trail of goosebumps crawling up your arms. The sensation of them developing sends a quiver down your spine, one that leaves your bones rattling and achy.
As the rain continues to pour down heavily, the path ahead becomes a blur, even with the faint light of the moons flickering through the clouds. You can almost feel the wetness of the soil beneath your feet, the sensation of it squishing between your toes. The raindrops relentlessly peck at your face, while the gentle rustling of the trees creates a comforting hum. It's as if Mother Nature herself is embracing you. Suddenly, a sharp pang of unease shoots through your chest, causing your eyes to flutter open.
You raise your head from its tilted position and peer down the path below the balcony. It's not a long stretch, the length of a car and then some. Your breath catches in your throat as you spot something peculiar. The figure that had been walking along the trail earlier, which you had dismissed as a figment of your fear, now stands at the end of your balcony. It is drenched and covered in a mysterious black substance. Although still tall, it no longer possesses its unnaturally thin appearance.
A terrifying grin stretches across its mouth, revealing a multitude of razor-sharp teeth, causing an uncontrollable scream to burst from your lips. In a frantic scramble, you seek refuge within the confines of your room, desperately hoping to evade the horrifying sight. The name you scream had meant to scream was Elmira, but out came, "U-Ulysses!" Your body turns into a puddle of goo, hot, sappy goo when a large hand settles over your eyes to obscure your vision. "Well aren't you a troublemaker?" he remarks, his eyebrows minutely creasing at the warmth emanating from your forehead and skin. As your hand rests upon his, he takes note of the clamminess of your palm.
"Do you like the rain?"
Amidst the relentless downpour, his voice cuts through the noise, smooth and velvety. It's reminiscent of savoring a fine whiskey, leaving a warm trail down your throat. You can't help but wonder if he tastes just as divine or otherwordly, and that thought alone makes your eyebrows furrow softly. You can feel his eyes on you, curious and searching. Knowing. Your words come out almost incoherent, but he doesn't seem to mind. His hearing is ten times sharper than yours, after all. Your voice, like a serene lake, barely makes a ripple. As your lips part, his eyes follow every movement with unwavering attention.
“I do.”
The rain has been falling relentlessly for hours, the constant pitter-patter on the ground and roof soothing you into a cozy and passionate state. Your affection for the rain is unwavering, it's a love that will never fade. Observing it brings back memories of your dreams, those beautiful dreams where you're standing in a vast field, letting the rain drench your clothes and moisten your skin. It's just you and the raindrops. The rain brings you solace. That's why you have no qualms about watching it endlessly.
“Do you like the rain?”
Your question catches him off guard, yet he craves the feeling of vulnerability you display by trusting and relying on him, despite your previous lack of trust.
“No.”
As your sight remains obscured, you're swiftly hoisted off the ground, the creature beneath you fading from your mind and your heart gradually returning to its normal rhythm. You hesitate to inquire further, realizing you're essentially a prisoner in this situation, with him as your captor.
“Why.”
As you both walk in silence, there is a sense of comfort that envelops you. It's a silence that doesn't make you feel awkward or embarrassed about the lack of response from him. Suddenly, a thought crosses your mind - where exactly are you heading? Although the bed assigned to you wasn't too distant, it feels like you've been strolling together for quite some time.
"Where are you taking me?"
As soon as your question leaves your lips, the unmistakable sound of a door slamming shut echoes through the room. Suddenly, you find yourself being gently placed onto a much larger bed than the one you were initially provided. "You'll be staying in my quarters until I can resolve the issue with the infestation,"
As your vision returns, you sit upright on the bed and fix your gaze upon him, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "Are you talking about mice? Or rats?" A blush spreads across your cheeks when he glances at you sideways, emitting a small chuckle devoid of humor. "Sure," he replies.
Sliding off the bed, you cross your arms protectively over your chest. "I won't be staying in a room with you. Find me another one." His eyebrow quirks and his eyes narrow, causing you to take a step back instinctively. "I have no intention of laying a finger on your body, especially considering you're human," he retorts. Offended, your mouth hangs open in disbelief and you take a step towards him.
"I wouldn't let you touch me, even if you begged!" Your words are sharp as he approaches. "Calm yourself, ao bewl ¹, I'll be in the next room over." ( my love )¹ A sudden wave of heat washes over you, causing your vision to blur and your breath to quicken. Ulysses remains unfazed as he steps closer, grabbing your wrist and pulling you towards him, his other hand lifting to touch your chin and check your forehead. "Silly woman, how long have you been out in the rain?"
Ulysses notices your lack of response and tenderly lifts you up from your slouched position against him, carefully placing you back in bed. "The rain in Lomaliue is unlike anything you've experienced in the Upper Realm," he whispers under his breath, his cool hands gently brushing against your forehead and then your neck. You peer at him through blurry eyes, your heart pounding in your chest. "Is this the end for me? Am I dying? I'm dying, right? " Fear grips you as tears stream down your face, and the room starts to spin around you.
The Demon can't contain his amusement and lets out a deep, rich chuckle. "Come now, little human, no need for theatrics. You're not dying. It's simply the unfamiliar weather and atmosphere of the Under Realm that's causing you discomfort. You'll be alright." Sweat clings to your body like a second skin, drenching your hair and clothing, leaving little to the imagination. A wave of intense pain surges through your abdomen, causing you to wince and squeeze your eyes shut. "It hurts, it hurts."
Ulysses sighs and softly caresses your complexion from top to bottom, hovering just slightly over your face. Your eyes slide shut and sleep takes over. He doesn't even startle or rise when Elmira enters the room, eyes worried. "She'll be fine, bring my papers from the office here, cancel the board meeting, and rearrange it a sennight from now." Elmira nods obediently and laces her hands behind her back. "Of course Master." Before she can turn to leave, he he adds, "The Guard, have them hunt down the Helkuma that made its way in. I'll be conducting a border check to identify any lapses in security."
"Yes Master." Elmira leaves the room and shuts the door behind her softly, leaving the two. Ulysses rises from the bed, intending to make his way to the plush velvet couch, but his progress is halted by a gentle tug on his loose tunic. Your small, tender hand clings to him with an intensity that suggests a desperate need for his presence, while the worry lines between your eyebrows deepen. "It seems I've been mated to a clingy human."
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For the next coming days, Ulysses spends his time doting on you as you're in and out of sleep, while also doing a lot of the work that had piled up in his absence. Surprisingly, in your drowsy state, you show no fear towards him; in fact, you become quite affectionate and touchy. On the seventh day, your fever finally breaks, and your pretty eyes no longer hold that bleary look of exhaustion and pain; it soothes Ulysses more than he cares to admit. Elmira hands him another stack of reports, her smile tinged with guilt as she notices his exasperated glare. "Just a few more to go, and we'll be done, except for the east wing reconstruction," she says, but stops when he raises one of his hands (from his third arm, the others are busy with paperwork) "Don't remind me."
Ba-Bump. Ba-Bump
The feline demon's ears twitch as your heart rate quickens. "Master, My Lady has awakened," he hums in acknowledgment, placing the two out of the three pens down and rising from the desk he had relocated to the room. "Ask the Chef to prepare a light meal and gather medicine and a sweet treat." Carrying a few crucial documents, he settles onto the plush velvet couch, flipping through them. Elmira nods in understanding and swiftly exits the room, gently closing the door behind her.
"I am aware that you are awake, my dear 'captive'."
He finds your bewildered grunt incredibly amusing, much more than he had anticipated. With a slight chuckle, he resumes his task of signing, paying no attention as you ungracefully slide out of bed and stumble toward the couch farthest from his position. Wrapped in the sheets, you look absolutely adorable, with it trailing behind you as you settle into the comfortable couch. "What time is it? What day?"
"It's been a sennight since you've come down with fever, that makes it Woedenes dæg, and it's noon." He steals a quick glance at his watch, indicating that he's running out of time and you have a feeling that he's about to go. "Which also means I have my meeting soon." And your intuition was spot on.
Ulysses stands up and carelessly tosses the pages onto the table. "Elmira will bring you something to eat. Take a brief stroll in the gardens and enjoy the fresh air. Just remember, not more than 10 minutes. Your body needs time to adjust to this environment."
You give a slight nod, feeling a bit disoriented and not up for a debate, the situation still feeling surreal. A sudden feeling of bashfulness overtakes you, making your cheeks burn. "Have you been here the entire time?" "Yes, the employees here are not accustomed to dealing with humans. You're also mine. My responsibility and I allowed you to become ill, and for that, I am sorry."
Your heart skips a beat and your stomach does a flip, but it comes crashing down when he finishes. "I also didn't want to put them through the pain of your snoring and clinginess." Ulysses finds amusement in the glare you send his way, observing as you settle back into the couch, appearing at ease in his presence. "Aren't you supposed to be somewhere else? Hurry and get out." His eyes soften and a smile quirks his lips, "I'll come to visit you after." You huff and wave him off with a middle finger. "Don't bother!" Your voice trails off weakly as he walks out, shutting the door with a solid thud.
Just as you are lost in your own thoughts, Elmira enters the room carrying a tray of steaming soup. Her face lights up with a warm smile, and her steps exude a contagious energy. "My Lady, I'm overjoyed to see you recovering. Your illness had the entire castle in a frenzy, and the servants have been sending their good wishes." It's puzzling, isn't it? You were just an ordinary person who stumbled upon this grand castle one day. Your interactions were minimal, and you couldn't even recall the names of those you encountered. So why all the fuss?
Elmira seems to read your mind and responds with a gentle smile. "In the sennights you've been here, your presence has brightened this place. The Gardeners feel like they have a purpose, the Chef gets to cook more often and the other maids love to dote on you." The Garden. The mere thought of dining in the garden brings a smile to your face as you sit up from your previously huddled position. "Elmira, I would like to eat in the garden."
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The walk to the Gardens (a place you had never been to) was quick and pleasant, with the suns shining brightly at noon. The knights on patrol greeted you warmly and in a slightly cute and chaotic manner. Stepping outside, you slipped off your new flats, lifted your dress, and ran into the grassy plains with a soft smile and squinted eyes, the sun's rays shining in your eyes and warming your skin. A gentle sigh of contentment escaped your lips as you wiggled your bare feet in the grass of the garden. With a slight breeze in the air, Elmira draped a shawl over your shoulders before heading back to the table to prepare your breakfast.
"Elmira, why is it that I've never been here before?" you inquire, your voice gentle as you lower yourself, your gown spreading over the earth and your hand encircling your knees. The scent of the air is pure and invigorating, a stark contrast to the environment you're used to at home. Your fingers trace the outline of a dandelion-like flower, smoothing over its bright yellow stem before picking it. Raising it to your face, you inspect the pink fluff that surrounds it. The clinking of dishes is the only sound until she interrupts.
"This is the Master's private garden, in order to come here you would need approval. While you were recovering, I told him that you enjoyed being outside and in Nature, and he gave you access to this Garden." Elmira answers, occupied with the dolly that holds the tea and soup that had been prepared prior. As you listen to her words, a soft smile graces your lips, and your heart flutters with excitement. You take in a deep breath and let out a puff, air releasing from your lungs and onto the flower. The pappus soars through the wind, taking flight and drifting further and further away from you. The garden mesmerizes you with its meticulous upkeep, vibrant hues, and the intoxicating fragrance of the dew-kissed plants. Every plant thrives, leaving you thoroughly delighted.
You now longed for a book to read, so you could lose yourself within the garden and experience something you had yet to want until now. But, after realizing that perhaps all the books were in the language of this new world, you would have to ask Elmira or Ulysses to get you something. Ah, you said it so easily, as if staying here was a forever thing, but perhaps it was. Ulysses had hit the nail on the head about your old life - no caring family, a job ready to let you go, and no one waiting for you back home. You weren't living, just surviving miserably. With a soft groan, you rose from your crouched position, hands moving up from your knees as you straightened. Your eyes roamed and landed on a beautiful glass table that Elmira was setting the dishes onto. It was clear, almost see-through. White placeholders were facing the chairs that came with the table. "It's so beautiful here." Your voice barely above a whisper, your fingers glide along the smooth glass surface, the set looking as if water had stilled. It could've been mistaken for ice if the warmth from the present sun didn't beam onto everything in its path. You hesitate, stealing glances at the elegant table, unsure if you should dare to sit. The opulence of the furniture makes you question if you might tarnish it. "Elmira, is it alright for me to sit here? It looks expensive." The cat demon nods absentmindedly, focused on arranging the items. "Certainly, the furniture is meticulously cleaned every day." "Oh," you respond, your brows furrowing. Your gaze swiftly shifts to your hand, a delighted smile spreading across your face as you notice something unexpected. "What is this?" you whisper softly, bringing your hand closer to examine it.
Perched on the back of your hand is a mesmerizing bug, its vibrant blue hue adorned with delicate white spots. At first glance, you might mistake it for a ladybug, if not for its peculiar shading and the menacing stinger at the end of its abdomen. Elmira's expression changes as you inquire about the bug, her face turning pale. With a sense of urgency, she urges you. "My Lady, quickly blow it off your hand!" You look up and away from the bug and glance toward her, panicking slightly at her tone. "What? Why? What's wrong–." Before you can comprehend her warning, a scorching sensation surges through your veins, engulfing your body in unbearable pain. As you glance back at your hand, you discover that the bug's stinger is now embedded in your skin, while the insect itself has vanished amidst your frantic state.
In an instant, you're sprawled on the ground, and Elmira rushes over, tenderly cupping your face in her palms. It's hard not to ponder why a mundane day is an elusive dream in this peculiar world, where nothing ever seems to be ordinary.
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"—The Hundyai Region has become overrun with–."
The atmosphere in the meeting room instantly turns heavy as a sudden knock reverberates through the door. All eyes turn towards the interruption, their curiosity piqued. It is a rare occurrence to interrupt a meeting with the fearsome Demon Lord Ulysses, it had never been done before, or well, successfully done. Before he can even speak, Elmira enters the room with a sense of urgency, her steps quick and purposeful. Bending down to whisper into his ear, she imparts crucial information to their Lord, causing a ripple of tension to spread across the room. The council members watch intently as Ulysses' eyes narrow and his jaw tightens in response. With a stiff nod, he acknowledges Elmira's message, prompting her to exit the room gracefully. Bidding a respectful farewell to the men at the table, she disappears as silently as she had arrived.
Standing up from his spot at the head of the table, Ulysses straightens his cuff links. "Let's postpone the meeting for now. Feel free to wait in the lounge with some refreshments." There are no protests, no irritation, just unwavering loyalty. "Understood, my Lord." She can't seem to stay out of trouble.
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"How long ago was it?"
Elmira anxiously clasps her hands together as she hurries alongside Ulysses, makes his way to his bed in a few long strides."It couldn't have been more than five minutes. I rushed to your side as soon as I could. Ghallahan brought her back here," she explains. Ulysses tenderly cups your chin in his large hand, observing as your eyes glaze over and your lips part to take a deep breath upon his touch. Your skin feels warm and moist with a thin layer of perspiration, causing him to curse himself for his lack of attentiveness. "Bring me something to alleviate the pain and swelling within 10 minutes. Clear out the staff near my room and instead attend to our guests. If I need anything, I'll call for you." Elmira, though reluctant, nods and shuffles out of the room. "What's happening to me?" Ulysses, captivated by the alluring and breathy tone of your voice, shifts his attention back to you. He nonchalantly rolls up his sleeves and unbuttons his shirt ever so slightly. "While in the Garden you were stung by a Fern. Their venom can intensify one's libido to a dangerous extent if not treated correctly. It can also lead to swelling in the limbs and even the brain, depending on the specific type of Fern."
In the midst of your poisoned state, your eyes widen with a mixture of fear and disbelief. Your thighs involuntarily clench together as your heart beats erratically in your chest. The overwhelming realization that death may be imminent engulfs you, and you find yourself uttering desperate words, "Oh God, I'm going to die, I don't want to die." However, amidst the chaos, a strange sensation begins to stir within you. Your nipples harden beneath the fabric of your dress, the sensation bordering on painful. Ulysses gently brushes his hand against your, puffy lips sending a jolt of electricity through your body. His touch trails down the side of your neck, leaving a trail of anticipation in its wake. "For it to stop, I need to pleasure you." Your body tenses at the information and your cheeks flush. "I'll just do it myself. Why can't I do it myself?"
"It doesn't work that way, little dove."
The thought of him touching you so intimately sends tingles of white-hot pleasure down your tummy. Another wave of heat hits and beneath your dress your wet, sticky thighs rub together, desperate for a touch of any kind. You can feel your clit swell and ache as your blood rushes to it. Your panties are damp with your arousal. As you lock eyes with him, his passive yet sharp features, and his deep, alluring red eyes, you sense a hunger that sets him apart from the rest. The sinewy muscles of his arms ripple, captivating your attention, and you boldly cup your breast within your small hands, embracing your own provocative nature. It becomes clear that the mere thought of his touch has the power to bring you to the brink of climax.
You can't help but feel a little shy, but there's no denying the effect he has on you. The way his voice rumbles sends shivers down your spine. His deep, sultry tone stirs something deep inside you. "Dove, talk to me." His voice is almost pleading, and you comply with a quick nod, gasping as his lips press against yours, dominating and all-consuming. His tongue dances over your lower lip, relishing the addictive taste of your mouth. His teeth sink in, causing a pleasurable moan to escape into his mouth, your fingers desperately clinging to him; as his fingers trail calmly down your waistline and tickle your belly button. Slowly, they make their way back up to the neckline of your dress, effortlessly tearing it off, and exposing your breasts to the cold air, causing goosebumps to rise. Though his warm mouth chases them away.
Your thighs tighten around his waist, feeling the hot, pulsating bulge in his pants pressing against your stomach. The most sultry, erotic moan he's ever heard pierces his ears and the deep, primal groan that he lets out makes you whimper. He lifts his head to gaze into your eyes, seeing the raw desire and intense need reflected at him.
His fingers delve into your hips, reassuring and light as he pulls you closer to him, his mouth continuing a slow, tantalizing assault on your nipples. Each time his teeth nip you, you mewl wantonly and arch into him, hips grinding against him. Tears trickle down your cheeks at the discomfort between your thighs, a fire that slowly starts to eat you alive.
Ulysses' hand caresses your breast, thumb teasing your wet nipple. And you let out the most sinful, obscene moan he's ever heard; and you attempt to stifle it with your hand. " It's only me and you here, dove " He states, kissing down the valley of your breast, eyes flitting upwards to gaze at your tortured face. His breath leaves his lungs in a shocked rush, and a surge of emotions engulfs him when his eyes find yours, they're wet with tears and you down at him through thick lashes, eyes so trusting and yet so scared.
"In this life and the next, you possess the power to consume me entirely." His voice, a mere whisper, and his hands cupping the soft weight of your breast. He bends his head, his teeth scraping over your left nipple. His other arms work on taking off the top half of his clothing, carelessly ripping them away. You sob out, the sound unlike anything he's heard, it makes his cock strain against his pants. Once again, he claims your breast, his mouth unyielding. Suckling vigorously, his tongue dancing across your nipple, while his fingers tease and caress the other. Your cries echo, as you entangle your fingers in his tousled locks.
As he lifts his head from devouring you, his gaze fixates on the vibrant hues that adorn your bosom, and you gasp at the color of his eyes. He knows you see the dark red of his eyes, a lust-filled predator, and yet you don't seem to care one bit. Instead, you yearn for him, your arms entwining around his neck to meet him in a kiss. Ulysses revels in the sensation of your body melding seamlessly with his, surrendering to his dominance as he ravishes your mouth with a fervent hunger, relishing the taste of your fervor. Your mouth, an addictive nectar, surpasses any pleasure he has ever savored in his two millennia of existence.
As your perky nipples graze against the chiseled contours of his muscular chest, a shiver of pleasure courses through your body, leaving you breathless and emitting a delicate whimper. He hungrily devours your sounds, his lips relentlessly claiming yours, until your once tender lips become swollen, evidence of his insatiable desire.
“More," You plead softly. "I need more." You can't help but squirm against him, hips bucking. Hungry. Needy. Demanding. The poison inside you ignites a fiery hunger, and only he can quench it. All you desire is him. His touch, his kiss, rough and demanding. You yearn for the numbness that envelops you when he tilts your head back, dominating your mouth repeatedly. Your cries are filled with urgency, and you don't care if you have to beg him to get what you want. What you needed.
"I can feel the heat of your cunt through my pants, dove," He whispers softly, and to you? He murmurs gently to you. He exudes pure, sinful allure. Temptation. Forbidden and devilish. The brush of his teeth on your neck causes your eyes to close and your lips to part. "I bet your panties are drenched, aren't they?" The question has another wave of slick dripping from your pussy.
He doesn't bother waiting for your response; instead, he plants a series of kisses from your lips to your neck, and then down to your breasts. Every gentle bite or caress sends a surge of heat directly to your pussy. The heat is intense, scorching, pulsating between your thighs, and you can't help but squirm. Your pussy twitches, clenches, and weeps with hunger.
"I want to see for myself," He states, nipping under your breast and then down along your ribs. "I need the taste of you on my tongue, my mate." His sensual words make you flush red, but sends your stomach clenching in anticipation, it goes straight to your core. You weren't certain you could survive. Certainly if he didn't speed up his teasing you wouldn't, you truly didn't want your brain to swell and explode.
His stalling mouth doesn't stay very long but continues to journey down your belly, his tongue dipping into your navel. Gracefully, he slides off the bed and kneels in front of you, urging you to the edge and pushing your thighs apart. "Rest your feet on my shoulders," he commands, his voice thick and velvety. Filled with dark promise. A shiver runs down your spine at the sound and another pulse of hunger shudders through you. There's no thought in your mind that think to defy the edge in his tone. Without hesitation, you comply, soft feet settling over his broad shoulders.
You would do anything for him at this moment. You had never in your 20+ years of living ever felt so desperate or needy. The feeling was so strange but, so intense, your body shook with it. Your heart raced, blood pounding in your ears and flushing your cheeks. Ulysses' face bore a dark, erotic lewdness. Intense. Savage even. Feral and untamed, it stirred something deep within you, something you didn't even realize was there. You hungered for him so much that you could feel the warm wetness of your arousal smearing your thighs and gathering between your folds in anticipation.
A soft whimper escaped your lips as you gripped his locs of hair, your breathing ragged. You were completely bare to him and you should have been embarrassed to have a demon you just met buried between your thighs, but instead, you were all the more desperate for him to do something—anything.
"So wet. So sweet." His gaze fixates on the luscious, soft curls on your mound, damp with heat, his eyes hooded and hungry. With a low, primal growl, he exhales a cool breath directly onto your feverish folds, and you sob, oversensitive and gripping his horns to steady yourself. "You belong to me," he declares. You don't even have time to process his words because he lowers his head to the feast between your shaking thighs. Your cry is hoarse. Broken. Mewling. He doesn't just give a tentative lick. Ulysses takes what he wants like a starved beast. He consumes your mind, body, and soul with a ravenous appetite.
He consumes you. His tongue delving deep to extract the musky, sweet taste of you. He nibbles, sucks. He dominates you with just his mouth and nothing more. Powerless to do anything but hold on, you grasp his horns, his firm hold on your thighs, keeping your legs spread wide for his plundering mouth. It was beautiful. So good. Better than anything you could have imagined. Your mind refuses to function, focusing on the sheer pleasure escalating like a tsunami. The sensations are indecent, and arousing, the intensity escalating the insatiable desire within her higher and higher.
He releases a fierce hunger within you, his tongue flicking, diving deep repeatedly, caressing and teasing. His deep snarls only added to the sensations battering through you. The flames roar back with a vengeance, tantalizing your nerves and scorching through your veins, a blaze of passion across your stomach and down your legs, along your spine, and deep inside your sopping pussy. You were so close, the tension coiling so tightly you cry out with need as his mouth envelops your hypersensitive bundle of nerves, he licks just enough to overwhelm you with sensations, but not enough to release you. "Ulysses," You whimper his name in a desperate plea. Begging. Longing. Knowing he would fulfill your desires in his own time. Your body was his. He had claimed it and he was making sure you were aware of that. "Please," You whisper, fingers now clutching his black tresses.
He looks up at you and you feel the added intensity of his twinkling eyes. Your hips involuntarily thrust against him, craving the tantalizing sensations that tease you just beyond your grasp. His mouth covers your sensitive clit once again, his tongue flicking, licking, pressing with broad, flat strokes and caresses, driving you higher than you thought possible, until you scream your release. The rapid, relentless rhythm pushes you beyond your limits, causing you to surrender to the overwhelming release that consumes you. Overwhelmed by ecstasy, you bury his face deeper into your pulsating core, grinding against his tongue as your thighs tremble with desire. "Ulysses." You sob his name like a prayer. He tenderly traces the inside of your thigh, soothing your senses with his gentle touch. Slowly, your eyes flutter shut, your racing heartbeat gradually returning to its steady rhythm. Exhaustion washes over you, and the sweet embrace of sleep claims you.
With a soft knock on the door, the demon eases you back into bed, pulling the duvet over your body. Elmira glides into the room, placing the requested items on the table. "Escort the guest back to the meeting room, we'll resume the conference."
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As you wake up from your poisoning-induced slumber, the darkness of night surrounds you, the castle eerily quiet except for the gentle sound of raindrops. Sitting up in bed, you slowly rub the sleep from your eyes, allowing the events of the day to slowly return to your mind. "Oh God." The events from earlier today rush back to you in vivid detail. You cover your mouth with your hand, shaking your head in disbelief. It must have been a dream, an incredibly lifelike, tantalizing dream. But the dampness between your thighs and your labia tells a different story. "I must have been dreaming."
"Of what?" The deep voice that you were starting to get used to startles you. Ulysses closes the door behind him, striding over to his desk. "I came to check on you after what happened earlier," His muscles tense and a surge of desire flickers in his eyes. Oh, and you were naked beneath the sheets. "So, I wasn't dreaming?" Ulysses chuckles humorlessly. "With the taste of your pussy still on my tongue, I don't think so." You try and ignore his lewd words, cheeks heating, instead you question him. "Earlier, when, yeah— you called me your mate, are we talking like, Australian mate? Pirate mate? Ahoy. What did you mean by it?"
"As in soulmate, predestined. You belong to me as I belong to you." His voice is gravelly and tinged with weariness, and you almost invite him into bed with you. "How? And how do you find me? Why me?" "Soulmates for Demons are rare, not many have them and they usually outlive them. Stumbling upon you was a fluke, but one I wouldn't change." Ulysses studies your reaction with a bated breath, searching and wondering. "I discovered you through your heartbeat. Your emotions. I could sense them all. Your fear, your relief, your longing."
"As simple as that, I got attached. Part of me wanted to leave you there, to never lay eyes on you again. However, your emotions anchored me. The solace you found in the echo of my voice and the sense of security you experienced, impelled me to protect you." Ulysses saunters closer, pausing to rest against the bed frame. "Your clumsiness, magnet to trouble, love of nature, and politeness to the staff, only made you more irresistible."
Your heart pounds relentlessly in your chest, a rhythmic thump that resonates with the intensity of a confession. "Whether you desire to depart from this place is inconsequential, for I have no intentions of releasing you," Is it sinful that you find yourself utterly aroused? The way his smoldering eyes possessively roam over your figure sends a tantalizing shiver down your spine. His eyebrow quirks in a provocative gesture, and his eyes sparkle with a magnetic allure.
You felt your cheeks flush and your heart pound. He knew exactly how to turn you on. It was wrong, but it was also thrilling. The way he gazed at you made your pussy drool. Your clit throbbed with excitement. A part of you blamed it on the poison still gliding through your veins. "I don't see a reason to go anywhere," you murmur, relaxing your grip on the sheet. Ulysses' jaw tightens as he advances, his lips crashing onto yours forcefully, swallowing your moan before breaking away.
"I'll put your mouth to use little human."
The thought of his throbbing cock sliding deep into your throat sends delightful shivers down your spine and the way his gaze darkens lets you know that he can also feel what you think as well. With a hint of shyness, you cautiously approach him, allowing the sheet to gracefully slip from your body, settling on your knees right before him. Craning your neck to look up at him, captivated by his towering presence. At his staggering height, you had no problem being face-to-face with his bulge. Your lips form a sultry pout as he gently cradles your face in his hands, while his other two hands firmly grip your hair, a hold that is both biting and intoxicating, leaving your pussy dripping.
A primal hunger consumes you. He was an irresistible temptation, and you had already indulged in a sinful taste of him, otherworldly and enigmatic. You yearned for more. "Put your hands on my thighs," He says softly, his gaze burning into yours. You inhale deeply, your head shaking in disbelief, your eyes sparkling with desire. "I've never done this before."
"I know." Those two words swirl inside you. Makes you shiver. With his remaining hand, he deftly undoes his pants, revealing his cock.
As you inhale deeply, your throat tightens and your eyes feast upon him. His jet-black hair is elegantly swept away from his captivating face. With broad shoulders and narrow hips, he possesses a striking V-shaped silhouette. His thighs are thick, lean and firm, but your gaze is centered on his pulsing, jerking cock. He's bigger than you imagined a man would be— well a demon. He's long and thick, perfectly matching his purple-grey skin tone, but there is an otherworldly quality to it that leaves you craving more. Intricate ridges and pulsating veins adorn its length.
"Keep looking at me, dove. I need to see you, to make certain you want this."
Your gaze swiftly ascended, locked in a passionate connection, for in that very moment, you were ready to surrender the world to him. He envelops his fingers around the base of his cock, guiding it towards your awaiting mouth, an act so tantalizingly arousing, it surpasses any previous encounters. (Not that you've had many, but…) Ulysses presses the velvety head against your lips, and the sensation of his precum moistening them ignites a pulsating surge of pleasure within your core. Driven by instinct, you part your lips and sensually lick the glistening droplets, taking the offering and savoring his taste.
His groan is deep as the flat of your tongue dances over his sensitive tip. He retreats momentarily, causing you to whimper in protest, which is quickly silenced as he abruptly sinks into your mouth, giving you what you want. He moves unhurriedly, each stroke taking him deeper until he's nearly at the back of your throat, careful of you. But you can feel the way his body responds as you suckle hard. It's orgasmic, the violent way his muscles contract from the burning pleasure. His gaze, dark and intense, follows every movement of his cock as it slides in and out of your mouth; tip and shaft sloppy now, dripping with saliva.
You revel in the sensation of his intense gaze watching your pillowy lips enveloping his cock, and this feeling alone from you has his cock swollen and engorged, so much so that your jaw aches. You sensually trace circles around the tip before lavishly slurping the underside of his shaft. Your eyes lock with his as he spasmodically twitches within your mouth.
"Enough." An order, his voice rough. He can't help himself. He had to have you. The plea in your eyes, the pure fire burning there, swallowing him whole, is too difficult to oppose. With one final thrust, he plunges deep into your throat, holding you there until your eyes well up with tears, before sliding his cock from your mouth.
Ulysses follows you down onto the bed, your arms circling his neck. Your thighs part, thighs glistening and pussy glittering in the soft, dull glow of the moons. And oh, he seizes the opportunity, lodging the wide head of his cock into that fiery haven. A growl rumbles low in his chest as your pussy clenches, squeezing around the tip of his cock.
Your cunt felt like molten lava engulfing him, so intense that he feels he might explode. Ulysses slowly applies pressure, short bursts that push through your resistance. It's scorching. So perfect. Too tight. Strangling him in a vice grip. The sensation is sheer bliss, your body stretching and igniting, reluctantly surrendering to his invasion.
Ulysses halts as he knocks dully on your thin, virgin wall and holds himself still, jaw ticking and hands gripping the bed frame, causing it to splinter. To give your body the time it needed to adjust to his incursion. He wasn't nearly in deep enough. The effort to remain still is almost unbearable. "Dove, look at me." he pleads. He had to see your eyes. Your lashes flutter and then lift. His stomach muscles contract malevolently. His body shudders and his cock thickens, and throbs, desperate for more.
You looked absolutely breathtaking.
"I need more," You whisper. "Please, hurry. Please. I'm burning up. I need . . ."
"I know what you need." Three of his arms embraces your hips, lifting you effortlessly. In an instant, your legs coil around him, ankles clasping at his waist, and fingers entwining at the back of his neck, eyes pleading. Ulysses takes a deep breath, for the sight of you is overwhelming.
He thrusts forward, with unrelenting intensity. Breaking through your innocence and forcefully entering your tightness, the scalding fire seizing him, and your tight pussy has no choice but to accept all of him.
You cry out at the bite of pain, but he feels you surround his cock tightly, tugging him deeper until he's lodged all the way, kissing your cervix. Your tight muscles contract around him, gripping and pulsating. Your hips buck. A small whimper of need slips from your throat. The need to fuck hard and deep into you repeatedly nearly sends him over the edge. "Are you ready? Breathe for me, dove." Your eyes meet his. Wild. So untamed, his breath catches in his throat. He holds you still while you try your hardest to grind against him, desperate to move.
"Please, fuck me." Your voice sends him over the edge. He moves then, drawing back and then plunging deep into your drooling cunt. Your tightness, like scorching silk, grip his cock. He feels the last of his control snap and he begins to drill into you. It's rough, too rough for your innocence, but he can't help himself. The pleasure consumes him, almost bordering on pain in its intensity.
He can feel you rising toward your orgasm. Surging toward it. He grasps your hips firmly, holding you, for a moment, savoring your tight, dripping cunt, and then he surges into you over and over with hard, deep strokes. Ulysses feels his balls tighten at the sudden, overwhelming convulsion of your pussy. The intense fluttering around him. Your moans fill his ears—his very being. Pleasure overwhelms him.
Each hard jerk of his thick, creamy cum spilling into you is a wave of pleasure. He raises his head and looks down at you, at the helpless, cute, bewildered pleasure on your face. Your lashes flutter and before you can open your eyes all the way, Ulysses slants his mouth across yours. Gently. Completely at odds with his roughness earlier. And you respond softly. Tiredly.
"Sleep, we have all of eternity."
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