#M!A - bad luck plague
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Everlasting Sweetheart
(Older!Alpha!Eddie Munson x Omega!Fem!Reader)
Summary: Ever since you presented there’s never been an alpha that smelled alluring to you. But when you move to Hawkins to be closer to your family you catch the scent of your next door neighbor, who just so happens to be the most handsome older man you’ve ever seen, and he smells phenomenal. It’s just your luck that he’d end up being your dad’s best friend, right? WK:15.3k(Oopsie)
Warnings: General Omegaverse behaviors (scenting, knotting, marking), age gap (Eddie is 41, reader is 27) breeding kink, unprotected sex, oral (m & f receiving), some angst (with a happy ending), mutual pining, pregnancy mentions, it’s the mid 00s (around 2007), fluff, Eddie and reader are both so down bad. 18+MDNI!!
A/N: Okay, I truly put my heart and soul into this one. This is the longest fic I’ve ever written and I honestly feel like Dr. Frankenstein and this is my monster. Thank you to my lovely betas @babygorewhore @bimbobaggins69 & @reidsbtch for always being amazing and hyping me up. And a special thank you to my omegaverse Jedi master @lesservillain, thank you for brainstorming with me and gassing me up throughout this entire process, this one’s for you, shawty. (older!Eddie edit is by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple) Masterlist.
You smelled it the minute you entered the building and it hasn’t left your nose since. That musky, woodsy smell that had hints of something spicy sweet, like cinnamon. It’s been a week since you moved in and you can smell it in every crevice of your apartment. It’s intoxicating. You’ve never been attracted to the smell of an alpha in this way. But there was only one problem, you’ve yet to lay eyes on the owner of the scent. Not for lack of trying either, you took extra long pulling your keys out, put some cute decorations on your front door, you even resorted to peeking out the window every time you heard someone walk by. To no avail.
It was starting to drive you insane, other alphas had smelled good to you before but nothing like this. It was like every time you so much as breathed in your panties got just a little bit more damp. Your hands have been wandering between your legs and reaching for the drawer in your nightstand more often than they have in your entire life and you don’t even have a face to blame. Just the scent that you can’t even seem to escape even when you leave the house, it’s like it’s sunken into your pores. You sometimes wonder if they can smell you too.
At the almost two week mark you can’t take it anymore. Deciding to take matters into your own hands you get out all the ingredients you will need to make your homemade cream pie. Baking for your new neighbors was a completely normal, neighborly, thing to do. You would just make the pie and go knock on the door. Easy.
You spent half the day baking and doing chores between steps, purposefully waiting until the evening time when most people would be home from work to deliver your sugary treat. You were also hyping yourself up. You had no idea who this scent that had been plaguing you belonged to. Was it a man? A woman? Did they already have a mate? If they did you don’t think you would be able to smell them this strongly, so you’re banking on them being single.
When 6 o’clock rolls around you decide it’s time to put your plan into motion. You put the finishing touches in the pie before going into your room to find the perfect outfit. Were you just walking ten feet to your neighbors door? Yes. Did you still want to look your best without looking like you tried to look your best? Also yes.
You decide on a little cream dress that has tiny cherries printed all over it and little red bows on the straps, paired with your Mary Jane’s. You put your hair in two braids and do your everyday make up before giving yourself a once over in the mirror. You looked good. The dress fit your figure and accentuated your curves perfectly while also showing off just the right amount of cleavage.
“Alright, you can do this.” You take a deep breath, which doesn’t really help because your nose is just invaded with the scent that you’re hoping to put a face to in the next few minutes. You grab the pie and walk out the door before you can talk yourself out of it.
Eddie lets out an annoyed groan at the sound of a knock on his door, he had just got home from a long day of work and was toweling off after his post work shower. He wasn’t expecting anyone, who the hell is at his door at 7PM on a Wednesday night unannounced? The only people that come here are his friends, and they always call before.
There’s a second round of soft knocks so he quickly finishes drying off his hair before wrapping the dampened cloth around his waist. He pulls the bathroom door open and is immediately hit with the scent. The bathroom filled with steam and the smell of his own shower products seemed to be the only place he could escape it nowadays. But he’s never smelled it this strongly. He knows a new omega moved in next door, he’s been able to smell them since the day they walked into the complex. But he’s yet to catch a glimpse of them. He wasn’t sure he wanted to. Eddie gave up on the hope of finding a mate years ago. Every time he tried to be with an omega they either smelled off to him or he smelled off to them.
But ever since he caught a whiff of this scent it’s been plaguing his senses. A scent has never smelled sweeter, or stronger. It’s like someone turned his house into the best bakery in town. It smelled like whoever lived next door was baking the most delicious cookies anyone’s ever tasted. When he got home today the sweetness was at an all time high, especially when he walked past his new neighbors door. He couldn’t help himself when he stopped outside of it to inhale deeply. It was so delicious it made his head spin. And now? The smell was getting stronger with every step he took towards the door. It made his heart rate speed up and his cock stir under the thin material of the towel around his waist.
He approaches the door and his hand hovers over the knob for a second. He needed to get himself under control. If the owner of the scent that’s been possessing him for the last two weeks is on the other side he needs to try and keep it together. He sighs, shaking his head so his hair falls off his shoulders before grabbing onto the knob and pulling the door open. The swing of the door kicks up wind, sending the smell wafting directly towards him. It nearly knocks him on his ass, his ears start to ring, his eyes land on a pair of shiny black Mary Jane’s before traveling up a pair of bare legs, hungrily drinking in curves covered by the thin material of a pretty little dress, until they land on the most beautiful face he’s ever seen. Your face. Your eyes are wide, your pupils blown, your dainty ring covered fingers are clutching what looks like a pie tin. The way you’re looking at him like a little deer caught in the headlights is making him want to tackle you to the ground and-
“Uh - hi… I’m your new neighbor. I just wanted to say hello and introduce myself, and I uh - I made you this.” You raise the baked good in your hands up between the two of you with a nervous smile.
“Oh - um - yeah, thank you, that’s really nice of you.” He anxiously scratches the back of his neck, returning your smile with a nervous one of his own. “Do you bake a lot? I swear ever since you moved in it smells like someone opened a bakery next door.”
“Usually yes, this is the first time I’ve gotten my baking stuff out since the move though.” He watches as your eyes roam over his bare inked chest, down to his hips where the towel is resting lowly, almost showing off the patch of hair above his cock. Were you checking him out? You had to be almost half his age. What would you want with an old unwanted alpha like him? He needs to get it together. You're just being nice, neighborly. “But I uh - just wanted to say hello, I won’t keep you. You seem busy.”
“Wait!” He didn’t even realize how desperate it sounded until it left his lips. God Eddie, snap out of it. “You didn’t even tell me your name, sweetheart.”
“Oh! I guess that’s kind of part of introducing yourself, huh?” You giggle and tell him your name and it goes off like a mantra in his head. “And you are?”
“Pretty name for a pretty girl. I’m Eddie.” He offers you a friendly smile, holding his hand out for you to shake. You take it and the minute your skin grazes his it’s like a shockwave is sent through his body. His entire body was on fire. Especially where he was still holding your soft hand in his larger rough one. Oh shit he was still holding onto your hand. “Shit, sorry, I just got this towel out of the dryer, must be staticky.”
“Huh? Oh! That’s okay, might’ve been me too, I just did some laundry and I’m out of dryer sheets.” You shrug, pulling your hand from his. He immediately feels cold, and misses the feeling of your touch. What is going on with him? No one has ever had this kind of effect on him. He doesn’t even know you. But god he wants to. Your sweet voice, your otherworldly scent, your curves in that little dress you were wearing. Your hair was off your neck and he could see your mating gland so clearly. He wanted to sink his teeth into it. A shiver runs through him at the thought.
“Oh I’m sorry! You must be so cold standing here, I won’t keep you. Here! I hope you like it, it’s my signature cream pie!” You hold the pie out to him with the sweetest smile on your face. God was everything about you sweet? And you baked for him? A cream pie? No omega has ever made anything for him and it was doing things to him he wished it wasn’t. He needs to get away from you before he pops a very noticeable boner through his towel.
“Thank you om- sweetheart, that was very sweet of you.” He takes the pie from you, giving you the most casual smile he can muster.
“No problem, baking relaxes me, so it was my pleasure.” You clasp your hands together in front of you, rocking back and forth in your heels a few times. “Well I’ll uh - see you around, Eddie. It was nice meeting you.”
“Yeah, it was nice to meet you too, thanks again for the pie. Have a good night.” He offers you a small smile and a nod before he’s rushing back inside, slamming the door behind him. “Fuck.”
It’s been a few days since you finally put a face to the scent that feels like it has been clogging your every pore. But it was like somehow the encounter enhanced it by tenfold. You don’t know who you were expecting to be on the other side of that door but that man is something straight out of your fantasies. He was gorgeous. His curly chestnut hair was slightly dripping from the shower, droplets sliding down his broad tattooed chest. The muscles in his abs and arms, which were also covered in tattoos, made it seem like he definitely spent some of his time working out. His face was gorgeous, the way he smiled at you and the shine of his brown doe eyes made you feel like your insides were melting. But most of all? Smelling him that close made your head spin. You’d never smelled anything or anyone like him. You wanted to bottle it up and snort it like your new favorite drug.
Just because you haven’t seen him, it doesn’t mean you haven’t tried. You find yourself peeking out your window when you hear footsteps in the hallway an embarrassing amount, you linger in your doorway when you’re coming and going more often than not, and you even started spending more time on your balcony in hope that he might decide to use his at the same time as you. To no avail. But the walls were thin, so you could hear him, and even though the building was supposed to be a secondary gender coed complex with insulated walls, you could still smell him. Constantly.
Sometimes you’d hear him playing 80s metal while slight grunts floated through the walls. You couldn’t tell if he was working out or jerking off but you honestly hoped for the ladder. You’d hear him clanking around in his kitchen, singing along to dorky dad rock, the kind of shit your dad listens to. Sometimes you’d hear him playing guitar and you aren’t even ashamed to admit that you’ve pleasured yourself to the sound once or twice, wrapped in a veil of his scent as it travels through your shared bedroom wall.
He was driving you insane, you needed to see him again. So when you were baking your dads favorite chocolate cupcakes you decided it wouldn’t hurt to make a few extra for Eddie. It gave you a chance to see him again, and baking also genuinely calmed you. You knew it was definitely mostly your biological instinct but you genuinely enjoyed caring for others. Cooking for them, helping them with self care, offering comforting touches, it all soothed something and scratched an itch inside you that could only be described as primal.
You frosted the cupcakes, putting a few of them in a separate container for Eddie before going to get dressed. You noticed he usually got home around 5:30PM and judging by your last visit he usually showered immediately so you had some time to figure out your outfit and fix your hair and make up to your liking. You decided to go with a little black mini skirt, a cropped black cardigan with nothing underneath, your white ruffle socks, and your Mary Jane’s. You put your hair in two low pigtails and tie white ribbons around each one. You grab the cupcakes off the counter and walk out the door a little after 6:45PM.
You take a deep breath, which literally does nothing to help you while you’re standing right outside his front door, his scent invading your nostrils, making your head spin. You knock on the door lightly before taking a step back, adjusting your already straight skirt out of nervousness. You hear footsteps on the other side of the door and as the knob turns your heart rate quickens.
“Oh, hi.” Eddie’s eyes are wide, and he scratches the back of his neck in a way that makes you think he’s almost nervous. But he couldn’t be, could he? This man was gorgeous, and he smelled phenomenal, he had to be popular with women, right? There’s no way he wasn’t. He was wearing fucking grey sweatpants this time, and an old band tee that he cut the neck and hem off of. He also cut off the sleeves, exposing his toned arms and his tattooed ribs.
“Hey! I was baking cupcakes for my dad and I made more than him or I will ever need to eat, so I figured I’d bring you some of the extras!” You smile at him sweetly as you hold up the container.
“That’s… really sweet, thanks.” Is he blushing? Cute. He takes the container from you, your fingers brush and send that same shockwave through your entire body, causing you to let out a small gasp. It was so small that if you weren’t in the worlds most echo prone hallway he probably wouldn’t have heard it.
“Of course, it’s really no trouble at all. Did you uh - enjoy the pie?” You clear your throat, trying to compose yourself.
“Yeah, fuck, it was delicious, sweetheart. Thank you. I’ve never had a pie that good before. You some kind of professional baker or something?” He gives you a lopsided grin and it relieves some of the tension in the air. But the nickname and the glint in his eye pick up your heart rate in a different way and you have to stop yourself from clenching your
thighs at the combination of the sight and smell of him.
“Oh nothing like that, I mean, I just opened a little bakery downtown and I went to culinary school but I wouldn’t call myself a professional or anything.” You giggle, twirling a strand of your hair around your fingers.
“That’s a professional in my book, you’re like a certified dealer of baked goods.” He chuckles, wiggling his eyebrows at you playfully and it makes butterflies erupt in your tummy.
“If you say so.” You giggle again, rocking back and forth on your feet. “But I’m glad you liked the pie, I hope you like these too. If you ever have any requests I’d love to make you something you’re actually craving sometime.”
You didn’t realize how suggestive that sounded until Eddie started going into a coughing fit, choking on air at your words.
“Sorry I - didn’t mean - “
“Hey, I’d love for you to give me something I’m craving sometime, sugar.” He smirks, his eyes momentarily unashamedly roaming your figure. “I’m a big fan of peach cobbler, if you ever want to go to all the trouble for an old man like me.”
“Psh! You’re not even that old! How old are you, like 35?” You playfully roll your eyes at him, feeling calmed by his demeanor yet again.
“Try 41, sweets.” He chuckles, his hand coming up to rub the well trimmed stubble on his chin. Now that his hair is dry you can see a few grays throughout and if anything it just makes him sexier. “And what about you, huh? Bet I’m like twice your age.”
“Not even! I’ll have you know I’m 27.” You tell him matter of factly.
“Alright, you got me there, bet you still get carded at all the bars, huh? Pretty little thing like you.” Oh god, he’s fully flirting with you now.
“Hey I could say the same for you, handsome. I thought you were younger. You look good.” You wink at him, taking an opportunity to let your eyes roam him for a moment. “You should taste them, the cupcakes.”
“Alright, as you wish.” He pops open the container, taking one of the chocolatey treats in his ring adorned tattooed hand. He pulls back the shiny red paper, and takes a large bite. His eyes roll back and a moan leaves the back of his throat. You have to hold in one of your own at the sound. You can’t help but imagine what he looks like when he cums in that moment. “Fuuuuck this is so goddamn good, thank you, sweetheart.”
“Yeah, sure Eddie, anytime. I’ll uh, see you around?” You smile at him hopefully.
“Yeah, I’ll be around. If you ever need anything, let me know, alright?” He returns your smile, using his thumb to push some frosting on the corner of his mouth between his lips, sucking it off. Alright, time to go, before you say or do something stupid.
“Cool, same to you. Have a good night.” You offer him a small wave.
“Yeah, have a good night, sugar.”
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Eddie was starting to think you put a spell on him, he had only spoken to you twice and you were all he could think about it. He found his mind wandering when he was at work, almost tattooing his clients on autopilot. His coworkers all called him out, asking who the “special lady” who had his head in the clouds was. He brushed them off, of course. You weren’t really anything to him other than his neighbor, but that didn’t mean you weren’t necessarily special. There was just something about you. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it but it was like part of him was missing when you weren’t around. Which sounded ridiculous, but it didn’t help that he could smell you constantly. Even when he wasn’t at home it was like your scent was embedded in his fucking bones.
The fact that you kept baking for him didn’t help, it was doing something to the alpha in him that he’s never experienced. He’s never had an omega fuss over him in any way, so you were really pulling on his heart strings. It didn’t hurt that you were a knockout. You were absolutely the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes on. He didn’t think you’d be interested in him, due to his age, but you were definitely flirting with him when you brought him those cupcakes yesterday. Eddie’s dating game might be rusty, but he wasn’t blind. He still had his doubts, you could just be having some fun with your new neighbor. Omegas were never interested in him for more than a quick fuck, the amount of times he’s been told that something about his scent was just “off” has left him insecure and rough around the edges.
He’s deep in his thoughts about you when he exits the elevator to your shared floor, where he’s immediately flooded with your scent like he always is. But something about it today was off, and not in the way those omegas meant about his being off, you were distressed. He could tell from the way you smelled just a little sour, but still so so good. It immediately sent him into a panic, were you okay? Did someone hurt you? Did you need help?
He swiftly turns the corner to your hall and he sees you standing in front of your door with your cell phone held to your ear. You’re anxiously tapping your foot while you chew on the nails of your free hand. Whoever you’re calling clearly doesn’t answer because you throw your head back, slamming the flip phone shut with a groan.
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The sound of heavy footsteps has you whipping your head in the direction of your intruder. Something inside you softens at the sight of Eddie approaching you with a concerned look on his face. You had been trying to call the property company for the last hour. After you took a shower you tried to turn it off but no matter how hard you turn it the hot water knob won't budge. So your shower had been running for the last hour and a half at least.
“Hey, are you alright?” The concern in his voice matched the furrow in his brow, it was almost like you could even smell his concern dripping into his scent. You wonder if maybe his alpha nose caught a whiff of your distress. You’ve been told by other alphas you smell awful when you’re upset.
“Yeah, no, kind of? I don’t know. My shower won’t shut off and the stupid fucking property management isn’t picking up their emergency phone.” You huff, clutching your little hot pink razor in your hand.
“Yeah, they basically never answer that damn phone, they might as well just stop giving it out at this point. These faucets are old and finicky, mine gets stuck from corrosion all the time. I can check it out, if you want?”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother, but I’d really appreciate the help. I can cook up a storm but I don’t know a damn thing when it comes to things like this.” Your lips form into a pout and Eddie wants to kiss it off so badly. It was becoming increasingly harder each time he sees you to control himself around you.
“It’s not a bother, sugar. I told you to tell me if you needed anything, remember? I think this qualifies. Let me just grab my tools, alright?” He shoots you a wink that has you almost forgetting why you were even upset a few seconds ago.
It only took him a few minutes to come back out of his apartment with his tools in hand. If he was being honest he spent a little extra time trying to calm himself down before going inside your home. Surrounded by your scent and all things you. You smile sweetly at him, opening your front door to let him inside.
Eddie feels like the wind got knocked out of him the minute he steps into your apartment. If he thought your smell was overpowering in his house it was mind altering inside your own. His knees felt like they were going to give out and he had to will himself to not get hard. He took a quick look around while you led him towards the bathroom. Your decor was cute, it had an almost vintage witchy kind of feel to it and it was extremely cozy. Your purple velvet couch and the framed horror movie posters give him a tiny bit of insight on who you are. You had candles lit, and your radio was quietly playing some kind of whiny emo sounding music he’s heard in passing but couldn’t name. It was all so unique, just like your scent.
“Okay so, the cold knob and the shower knob work just fine but the hot won’t turn off. It’s like stuck or something.” You walk into the bathroom and he follows, pushing back your black and purple moonphase curtain. You take advantage of the opportunity to ogle him while his back is turned to you. He looks good today. A plain black tee shirt is tight on his broad shoulders, black jeans that are ripped at the knees and hug his ass just right, and black doc martens on his feet. His hair is tied back in a low bun and he has his usual rings on his fingers, a studded belt and a pants chain complete the look. He was so fucking hot. Damn.
“Yeah, it’s just a little bit of corrosion. Easy fix.” He looks over his shoulder at you and you try to avert your gaze, or at least close your fucking mouth but you can tell by the smirk he gives you that he caught you gawking.
“Sweet. Thanks, Eddie.” You give him the most composed smile you can. Having him in your home was making you dizzy. You’ve never felt like this before. You’ve been around plenty of and even slept with a few other alphas but something about Eddie was different. It’s like someone made him in a factory, just for you. You wanted to climb him like a tree and shove your nose in his scent gland if you were being honest.
“Sure thing, sugar.” He leans over to grab a few tools from his toolbox and his tee shirt rides up, revealing a delicious silver of tattooed skin. The way his hands looked gripping the tools and the grunts he was letting out as he started to loosen the knob had you clenching your thighs. Not only did he look absolutely delicious, he was also taking care of you, and the omega inside warmed at the thought. His neck muscles flexed and the veins on his hands were bulging. His musky scent filled the room, and it was starting to make you dizzy. You felt a layer of sweat starting to build on your skin underneath your hoodie and you suddenly felt like how you feel the days leading up to your heat.
“I’m thirsty, do you want anything to drink?” Your voice comes out as a little shaky, despite your best efforts to center yourself. “I have umm… water, fresh squeezed lemonade, milk, tea, I could make coffee, I think I have some red wine.”
“I’ll take some of that lemonade, if you don’t mind.” He turns his body to look at you, a boyish grin plastered on his face.
“One lemonade, coming right up.” You give him a thumbs up you immediately decide was probably as awkward as the smile on your face. You just need to get away from him for a second. You turn and rush out of the bathroom, your knees buckling as you grasp onto the kitchen counter for support. “Jesus Christ, get it together.”
Your heat wasn’t due for another two weeks but you felt like it was going to happen any second. Your head was spinning, you felt feverish, the warmth of your skin causing you to rip your hoodie over your head, leaving you in just your small cropped tank and your sleep shorts. But it still felt like too much. A stabbing pain shoots through your core and causes you to cry out.
Eddie tightens the wrench tight, turning the knob off and on a few times to make sure it’s working right. When it works both times he smiles triumphantly. His smile drops immediately when he hears you cry out in what sounds like pain. He drops the wrench on the ground and runs out of the room in a panic. The minute he enters the kitchen he starts to feel dizzy. Your scent is stronger and sweeter than ever before, your hoodie is discarded on the ground next to you leaving your curves exposed to him in your little pajamas. But that’s not even the worst part. Your body is folded over the kitchen counter and covered in a shein layer of sweat, you’re panting while little whimpers escape from your lips. But worst of all? There’s saccharine sweet slick dripping down your thighs. Fuck.
“Hey, are you okay?” Eddie wants to kick himself for asking, obviously you’re not. You tense at the sound of his voice, but you don’t turn to look at him. A whine louder than the others leaves your lips and your body shakes slightly.
“No - I - yeah, I’ll be fine. This is embarrassing, I’m sorry. I wasn’t due for my heat for a few weeks I wouldn’t have invited you in if-“
“Hey.” His large hand on your shoulder makes you jump at first but then it sends a feeling of relief washing through you. His scent is still overwhelming but it’s also so soothing. You want to throw yourself into his arms and inhale his scent gland until you can’t breathe anymore. “Don’t be embarrassed, it’s totally natural, I’m not judging you or anything. I just wanted to make sure you were alright. Your shower is fixed. I should uh - I should go.”
A whine involuntary wracks through you at the thought of him leaving, but if you asked him to stay and help you, would he? He hardly knew you. You don’t even know if you smell good to him or not. But the primal part of your brain doesn’t care, the primal part of you just wants him to make it all go away.
“I’m sorry, I just know if I stay here I’m not going to be able to control myself and I don’t want to do anything to take advantage of you or make you uncomfortable.” He pats your shoulder awkwardly, it’s taking everything in him not to rip those shorts in half and shove his cock balls deep inside you in one thrust. He knows he could, your little omega pussy is dripping and ready for his knot. Every single instinct in his body is screaming at him to help you. The thought of leaving you here alone makes him want to puke, but he also doesn’t want to take advantage of your vulnerable state. He doesn’t want you to do anything you’d regret later because he doesn’t know if he can handle being one of your regrets.
“Please.” It comes out a broken whisper but Eddie could hear you loud and clear. He was pretty sure he knew what you were asking, but he needed you to tell him.
“Please what, sugar?” His large calloused hand runs up and down your arm and you try to hold in the moan that escapes you but it slips past your lips anyways. His touch is like what you imagine taking a hit of hard drugs feels like.
“Please, help me Eddie.” You turn your head towards him, your cheek squished up against the cool countertop. You look up at him through your lashes, your lips forced into a pout. “Make it go away.”
“Sweetheart… are you sure? I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret once you have a clear head…” He pushes your hair out of your face, his thumb running along the apple of your cheek. You subconsciously nuzzle into his palm and you’re just so sweet he wants to devour you.
“Won’t regret it. Want you so bad. I can smell you all the time, you smell so good. You make me crazy. Please, I need you.” Eddie lets out an exasperated breath. So you could smell him too, and he smelled good to you. He’s never had an omega tell him that and it filled him with pride. He’s never felt truly needed by someone in the way his body biologically desired, he’s never spent a heat with an omega before. Now this pretty little thing was practically begging for him. How could he refuse?
“I can smell you too, ya know? The day you moved in I caught your scent. I’ve never smelled anything like you before, and you’re so beautiful. If we do this I don’t know how I’m going to let you go afterwards.”
“Then don’t.” You say it so matter of fact, and he can tell your awareness was slipping, soon all you’d be able to think about was his knot.
“Are you positive about this? I mean it, I’m already addicted to you and I haven’t even tasted you yet.” His thick thumb runs over your pouty bottom lip and you dart your tongue across the pad of it. You moan, the taste of his sweat sending another wave of slick down your legs.
“I’ve never been more sure about anything, alpha.” Eddie fucking growls at that, grabbing you by the waist and throwing you over his shoulder. He carries you to your room and tosses you on the bed. He leans over you, his ink adorned forearms on either side of your head. His face is inches from yours and you can’t take it anymore, you thread your fingers through his hair, pulling his mouth down to connect his lips to your own.
When your lips connect both of your bodies feel like they’re on fire, Eddie suddenly feels the overpowering need to protect you from anything and everything for the rest of his life, to sink his teeth into the juncture of your neck, and stuff you full of his cum. Plugging it with his knot so none escapes, and he doesn’t want to stop until you have his baby inside you. He’s not even in his rut and he’s never felt like this before in his life. Your tongues intertwine and he’s never tasted anything so sweet. He sucks your tongue into his mouth, savoring your taste, drinking up your moans.
“Fuck, you taste so sweet, just like sugar.” He kisses down your jaw to your throat, leaving open mouth kisses on your scent gland. He stops there to shove his nose in your neck, inhaling deeply. His eyes roll in the back of his head and he lets out a feral moan. “Never smelled anything sweeter either, most omegas smell a little off to me, but you? You smell divine, sweet thing.”
“Mmm Eddie, you smell so good too, never smelled anyone as good as you.” Your mind is clouded with lust, the fever rising in your body and the pain in your abdomen due to your heat making you dizzy. He pushes the front of your tank top down, taking one of your nipples in his mouth. Your back arches off the bed and your hands find purchase in his hair again. He reaches back to pull it free from the hair tie, his mouth switching to your other nipple.
“Glad I smell good to you, most alphas say I smell weird.” He pulls your tank top down to your hips before pushing it down with your shorts in one swift motion, leaving you in just your soaked cotton thong.
“Funny, you’re the first omega to ever tell me I smell good to them too. Maybe we were meant to be baby.” He jokes, sending you a wink before latching his mouth onto your clothed core. A growl rips through him, if he thought your spit tasted good the taste of your slick had to be the most divine cuisine known to man. His tongue flicks out to lick your sensitive clit through the material of your panties and you buck against his mouth.
“More.” If you weren’t so far gone you’d be embarrassed at how broken and desperate your voice sounds but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. All you could think about was Eddie Eddie Eddie.
“I’ll give you anything you want, baby girl, don’t worry. I’m gonna take care of you.” He rips your panties down your legs and hooks your thighs over his shoulders. His face finds your now bare dripping core and he licks a stripe through your slick folds. You moan in unison, you at the feeling, and him at your intoxicating taste. He starts to tongue fuck you as deep as he can, swirling his tongue around inside your walls, collecting your nector on his tongue.
He plunges his tongue into you a few more times, savoring your taste, before dragging it up to circle your clit. The minute he wraps his lips around the sensitive bud an orgasm rips through your body. Your thighs try to clamp shut around his head and your hips raise off the bed. Eddie uses one of his hands to hold you down by the hips while two of his thick fingers circle your entrance before he’s inserting them inside you. He continues to suck on your clit and you don’t even have time to come down from your first orgasm before another one is being ripped from you. Feral moans leave your lips as you rock your hips against him.
“FUCK EDDIE! Shit! Is too much, too much, sensitive.” You whine, pushing your hands against his head. He growls, his tongue licking every inch of your slick covered core before finally pulling away.
“Sorry baby, you just taste so fucking good, and those little moans are my new favorite song. Shit.” He sits up, his stubble covered chin is coated in your slick and he’s looking at you like he wants to eat you alive. You’d let him if he asked. He kisses his way up your torso, stopping to pay your tits and scent gland a little extra attention. When his lips meet your own they taste like you and him combined and you whine into his mouth.
“Eddie, please? Please fuck me? I need to feel you please please please.” You’re begging even though you know he’s going to give you what you want, but all you can think about is him burying himself deep inside you, filling you up with his knot and his cum, making all the pain go away.
“Hey, hey, shhh, it’s okay, sweet thing. Your alpha is gonna make it all go away, okay? Gonna take care of you little omega.” Your alpha, you like the sound of that.
“You’re wearing too much, take it off.” You whine, pulling at the hem of his shirt. The materials of his clothes feel suffocating against your already hot skin, and you want to feel him. He obliges, standing up to pull his shirt over his head. Your eyes roam his figure, your tongue darting out to lick your bottom lip at the sight of his ink covered muscular form. He kicks off his shoes and his hands make quick work of his belt, he undoes his pants, pushing them down with his boxers. His cock springs free, slapping against his bare stomach and a bit of drool actually dribbles down your chin. He’s perfect. Every inch of him.
“Fuck Eddie, you’re beautiful.”
“Coming from you, sugar? That’s a high honor.” He smirks, leaning over you. He takes your chin in his hand, using the grip to place a bruising kiss on your lips. He uses one hand to prop himself up on the bed while he grabs onto his thick cock in the other, running it through your folds. He taps it against your clit a few times, the combination of your slick and his precum causing it to make a sticky wet sound.
He pushes the tip of his cock into your entrance, pulling it out and pushing it back in a few times. You wiggle your hips impatiently, trying to shove him deeper inside you. He finally takes the hint, shoving his cock halfway inside you before pulling it almost all the way out again. When he pushes into you again he doesn’t stop until his balls are flush against your ass.
“Oh my god, shit!” Your hands clutch onto his back, your nails leaving crescent shaped marks in his skin.
“Oh fuuuuuck, your pussy is sucking me in baby. You feel so fucking good.” Almost too good, if he was being honest with himself. He’s fucked a few omegas, but never on their heat, and nobody has ever made him feel like this. It just felt so fucking right. All of it. Your scent, your touch, your kiss. It really was like you were made for him. And even though his mind was clouded with lust, as he snapped his hips into yours, burying himself deep inside you over and over again it all started to make sense to him.
He had learned a little bit about soul bounds back in highschool and he knew a few people in his life that had them but they’re so rare nowadays he had never given them much thought. But the way his ears rang when he first saw you, the electric shockwave that went through the both of you when you shook hands, how he can smell you everywhere. The fact that you’re the first omega to truly smell good to him, and he’s the first alpha to smell good to you. It all clicks into place. You were his fated mate. You really were meant for him.
“Eddieeee, you feel so good, you’re filling me up so good, I’ve never - fuck - I’ve never felt like this before.” Your nails run down his back and your walls clench around his cock as another orgasm takes you by surprise, a rush of slick coating his cock and both of your thighs. He decides while you’re fucked out like this isn’t the time to tell you about his realization, he doesn’t think you know. He’s not even sure if they still educate kids on these kinds of bonds given their rarity.
“That’s a good girl sugar, taking me so well, you gonna let me fill this little pussy up?” He grunts as he thrusts into you deep and hard. His nose finds your scent gland and he sharply inhales. “God baby, you smell so good, my sweet little omega, my sugar.”
His tongue laves out over the juncture of your throat, his teeth lightly brushing over it. God it would be so easy to just sink his teeth into your neck and mark you as his for the rest of your lives. He can tell you want him to, by the way you turn your head to bare your neck to him.
“Do it, I want it.” It’s like you read his mind.
“Baby, no. Not right now, if you still want it when you’re more clear headed we can talk about it, okay?” It was taking everything in him not to do what you were asking, he was fighting against every single instinct in his body.
“Eddie, I don't think I’ve ever thought more clearly about anything in my entire life, please? I want to be yours.” You mean it. You’ve thought about it before now, laid in bed at night as you listen to him strum his guitar. You’ve thought about more than just fucking him, you’ve fantasized about a life with him. Even if you barely knew him, you knew you wanted him.
His thrusts falter at that, he doesn’t know how long he can resist your begging. Especially when you’re begging for this. He doesn’t respond, just starts fucking you harder. His thumb finds your clit and he starts to circle it in time with his thrusts. His lips latch onto your neck and suck, if he can’t give you what you truly want right now, he hopes you’ll at least take this temporary mark. “Please alpha? Please just do it? I want it so bad, want your mark. Want your knot.”
“I know sugar, I know.” He mumbles against your neck before latching back onto it, continuing to suck bruising marks into your skin. “Why don’t you cum for me? Cum for your alpha.”
He angles his hips so the head of his cock is brushing against your sweet spot, picking up the speed of the circles on your clit. He runs his teeth along your throat, not quite biting down but nipping at it. It’s all so good, and it sends you hurtling into another mind altering orgasm.
“Oh fuck! Ohmyfuckinggod, Eddie! I’m cumming!” You wrap your legs around his waist, more slick gushes from you and your nails are digging so deep into his back he’s sure you’re starting to draw blood. He hopes you leave him some little marks of his own. He wouldn’t mind, if you bit down on his neck too. He knows it’s taboo for omegas to mark alphas but he wants to be connected to you, owned by you, in every way possible.
“That’s a good girl, good fucking girl, sweetheart. You’re so beautiful when you cum on my cock.” His hands grasp onto your hips and he leans up onto his knees as he continues to fuck into you. Your hands clutch onto his forearms and your tits bounce deliciously with every thrust.
“Want you to fill me up, alpha. Fill me with your cum, put a pup inside me.” You’re cock drunk off your ass, your eyes rolled back and brimmed with tears, drool dripping from your mouth and your words are slurred as you babble things you’d never dream of saying in a normal state of mind. But Eddie hears you loud and clear, and he knows you probably don’t really mean that. But hearing it? It makes him feral.
“Yeah? You want me to fuck a baby into you, is that it? Want me to mark you and knot you and plug you full of my cum?”
“Yes! Fuck! Please fill me up, let me give you a baby, alpha!!” Eddie lets out an animalistic growl, a few more harsh thrusts and he’s spilling inside you. He shoves his hips flush against yours as ropes of his cum paint your walls.
“Oh fuuuuckkk, oh my god, shit.” Your pussy squeezes him like a vice grip, the feeling of him filling you up sending you over the edge with him. You milk him for all he’s worth, the head of his cock starts to flare and you whimper when his knot pops inside of you. “Jesus Christ.”
You both pant as he grabs onto your thighs so he can flip over with you on top of him. You lay your head on his chest and nuzzle into it, feeling safe and warm, and for the moment satisfied. You’re both quiet for a while, catching your breath and coming down from your highs.
“Eddie I-“
“Hey.” He shushes you, comfortingly running his hand down your back. “It’s okay, don’t stress, alright sugar? We can talk about all of this once you’re more clear headed. Let’s just relax for now.”
“Will you… stay?” Your voice is small, but hopeful.
“I don’t think I’m going anywhere darlin’, we are kind of connected right now.” He chuckles and it makes you laugh. “Even longer if you keep laughing like that, clenching around me and shit.”
“Sorry.” You giggle. “Will you stay… till it’s over?” You really hope he knows what you mean, because you already feel awkward enough asking as it is.
“You want me to stay with you through your heat?” His heart rate picks up, and the alpha in him sings with pride. He really hopes that’s what’s you’re asking.
“Yeah, only if you want, no pressure or anything I-“
“Baby, I’d be honored.” His hand cups your face, tilting it towards him so he can look you in the eyes. He smiles at you sweetly, his mate. He places a gentle kiss on your lips, which you return with glee. “I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me.”
Would it be crazy if you said you wanted him to stay forever? Probably. Maybe not, since you were just begging him to mark you and knock you up a few minutes ago. You decide against it though, laying your head back on his chest. You shove your nose into his scent gland, inhaling him. You’ve never felt this safe with an alpha, or anyone who wasn’t your family, really. You could get used to this. You only hoped he would still want to be around you when your heat was over.
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Eddie kept true to his word, staying with you through your heat for a full week. He only left once, on the second day to go to the store for some groceries and to get things from his apartment for himself. It was a good thing he did because later that night he went into his rut and it just made the entire experience more intimate and feral. He fucked you more times and in more ways than you could count. But you didn’t just have sex, you also spent a lot of time talking, and getting to know each other.
He told you about his time growing up here, and how it wasn’t the best for him. You found out that he’s a tattoo artist, and he rides and works on motorcycles. He used to be in a band when he was younger, they still jam together sometimes but they don’t play bar shows anymore. He’s never had an omega before, not even an unofficial mate, and he explained to you that it’s because he’s never felt connected to anyone until he met you. You told him it was about the same for you. When you first presented your boyfriend at the time was an alpha and he smelled awful to you the minute his pheromones hit your nose, so you ended up breaking it off.
The morning you both woke up feeling like yourselves again you were both a bit timid. You still had another day off but he had clients today. He left to get ready for work, departing with a kiss and a promise to talk later tonight. You were hopeful. For the first time in a very long time, or maybe ever, you felt truly connected to someone.
Since you had the day off you decided you’d go visit your dad at work, you haven’t seen him since you took him those chocolate cupcakes last week and you figured you’d surprise him. He was the reason you moved here after all. He helped you open the bakery. You and him have always been close, your mom wasn’t really around when you were growing up so it was just you and him. He lived in Hawkins but he owned a tattoo shop in the next town over, only about a thirty five minute drive if there wasn’t traffic.
You went for a more simple look today, flare leggings and a cropped zip up with your doc martens. Perfect for the mid September Indiana weather. The drive went smoothly, you’ve been to your dads shop a few times, years ago when you were in your early 20s. But you haven’t seen it in a long time, usually when you visit him you just go to his house.
You push open the art covered door to the shop, the bell on the handle hits against the glass on the door and Tami, your dads wife, greets you with a surprised smile from behind the front desk.
“Well look what the cat dragged in, to what do we owe the pleasure, little lady?” You’ve always liked Tami, she and your dad got married when you were nineteen, after you had already moved out. But she was like the cool cigarette mom you never had growing up. She was probably Eddie’s age or a little younger, your dad was in his mid fifties. But she was beautiful, she looked like she stepped right out of an 80s rock music video. With her teased blonde hair and blue eyeshadow, her body adorned with almost as many tats as your dads.
“I had the day off, just figured I’d come say hey.” Your smile falters for a moment when you catch a strong whiff of Eddie’s scent, you didn’t think it would still be so strong after you showered. You knew your dad was going to ask questions, especially with the crime scene you had on your neck that you didn’t bother to cover up. You weren’t ashamed of them, you wanted people to know you were taken.
“Hey Tami do you have the reference photo for my five o'clock? I need to start drawing it up.” Your eyes shot in the direction of his voice, your heart rate immediately picking up. Okay so, you had definitely caught his scent, and it wasn’t on you. Why was he here? Oh god. He works for your fucking dad? Shit. Why didn’t you think of that? The motorcycles, tattoos, it all makes sense now. Your dad has told you about Eddie, you just didn’t think it was going to be this Eddie.
He smells you before he sees you, for a second he thought it was just your scent lingering on him like it has been for weeks now but then he saw you. He wasn’t mad you were here, just surprised. He was about to ask you how you knew where he worked when your dad came bounding out the back.
“Honey! What’re you doing here? Did you bring sweets?” Eddie has never seen your dad smile like that at anyone besides Tami, was he cheating on Tami? Did they have a side piece he didn’t know about?
“Hey dad, yeah I uh - I brought you some cookies!” Dad!? Holy fuck. That’s when your name goes off like an alarm in Eddie’s head, he didn’t think to make that connection until now. He’s seen pictures of you as a kid, and even a few of you as a teenager but you looked so different now he never would’ve recognized you from those. You were Dale’s fucking daughter? Jesus Christ. He was so fucking fucked.
“You’re too good to me, the best daughter ever, I swear.” Your dad walks over to you and engulfs you in a hug, taking the container filled with cookies from your hands when he pulls away. “Although, what’s going on with this crime scene on your neck? You have a little boyfriend here already?”
“Ha! Thanks dad, you’re the best too. Its uh - there’s not really a label on it yet or anything, if there’s anything to tell, I’ll let you know.” You smile at him, clearing your throat. You avoid making eye contact with Eddie, knowing you’ll probably lose your cool if you do. Especially when your dad is talking about what he did to your neck. You’re trying really hard to keep calm but you’re practically screaming on the inside. Eddie worked for your dad, and had for almost a decade now. He’s told you about Eddie, they’re close friends, and your dad was his tattoo mentor. He probably wouldn’t want to see you now. You felt like your heart was breaking already. You were definitely going to have to find a new apartment.
“Angel, this is Eddie, Eddie this is my daughter.” Your dad says your name so proudly it makes you internally cringe. You fucked his friend. Not just fucked, you spent your heat and his rut with him. You asked him to mark you, he knotted you, and if you were being honest? You hadn’t been clear headed enough to think about it until today but you weren’t on birth control.
“We know each other actually!” Eddie’s eyes look like they’re going to burst out of his head, and he coughs, choking on his spit. “He’s my neighbor! You’d know that if you came to see my place already, dad.” You roll your eyes at him playfully, trying to start up your usual banter, hoping you’re pulling it off.
“Oh, yeah! She moved into Chris’ old place, she baked for me and I helped her with her shower. You raised a good one, Dale.” Eddie smiles at his old friend, his heart feeling like it was going to fall out of his ass. He knew how protective your dad was of you, he remembers how he used to talk shit about your old beta boyfriend. Not only that but Dale was one of the big alphas in the area, if he casted Eddie out, everyone would.
“Aww! Good man Ed, thanks for helping my girl out. And you! How’s the bakery? Things good?” Your dad takes a large bite of one of the cookies, his other hand lovingly shaking your shoulder.
“It’s good, yeah, things are good. You were right about putting it close to the highschool, tons of kids come in on their lunches and even some teachers too. I’m working on perfecting this new pie recipe right now, I’ll have to bring you a few different slices to try out.”
“Well duh, I’m always right, and I swear you’re trying to fatten me up.” Your dad laughs his signature laugh, it’s deep, bellowy, and contagious. You loved him so much. But that didn’t change how you felt about Eddie, if he still wanted to see you, you wouldn’t turn him down.
You made small talk with your dad and Tami for a bit longer, Eddie had excused himself to the back and it honestly made you want to cry right then and there. You wish your dad and step mom a goodbye without seeing him again and walk out of the shop with a heavy heart. You drive home on autopilot, your thoughts racing a mile a minute.
When you get home you flop yourself down on the couch in defeat. You would finally meet a guy and he’d end up being one of your dads oldest friends. Would he ever even talk to you again? He probably regretted the entire thing. But if you could go back in time, you’d do it all again.
A few minutes into your wallowing your phone goes off and when Eddie’s name pops up on that tiny front screen you feel like you’re going to pass out.
“I’ll come see you after work so we can talk, hope you’re okay.”
You let out a deep breath, at least he was talking to you, right? That text he sent you this morning about already missing you sitting above the new one was like a slap in the face in comparison. Hours ago he was texting you “Miss you already, can’t wait to see you tonight, sugar. Have a good day ;)” and now it seemed like he was about to tell you he couldn’t see you anymore. You had around three hours until Eddie would be home from work, and you have no idea what to do with yourself. You wanted to crawl in a hole and disappear if you were being honest. So you did the next best thing, you took a nap.
The sound of banging on your door had you shooting straight up in bed. When you look around it’s already dark out and when you gaze at the clock on your nightstand you realize it’s already past six thirty. Had you napped that long?
“Sweetheart, I know you’re home, I saw your car outside. Can we please just talk?” Shit. You throw your covers off and dash out of your room to the front door. You open it to reveal a very distressed looking Eddie and it cracks your heart a little.
“Hi Eddie…”
“Hey, can we talk?” The look on his face is hard to read, you can’t gauge how he’s feeling at all and it only peaks your anxiety.
“Yeah, sure.” You step aside to let him in and take a seat on the far end of the couch. You try not to take it personally when he sits all the way across from you but it stings just a little.
“So uh - your dad is… my boss.” Eddie clears his throat awkwardly while his knee bounces up and down. His eyes search your face and he can tell you’re upset. Not just by that but from your scent too. He can smell how anxious you are and he hates that he’s the cause of it.
“Ha! That’s putting it lightly, Eddie…” You laugh dryly.
“Yeah, so, he’s one of my closest friends, the alpha of my pack, annnnd I kind of owe him everything for giving me a chance at the shop.” Eddie sighs, running his hands through his hair in frustration.
“Yeah I know, I knew he had a friend named Eddie, I just didn’t know it would be you. So I get it, if you don’t want to see me anymore. It’s not like we are actually anything to each other anyways, just because you spent my heat with me doesn’t mean you owe me anything. I can find a new apartment and I won’t come into the shop anymore it’ll be fine I can-“
“That’s the problem though, I can’t stay away from you, sweetheart.” He looks you straight in the eye as he says it, and his voice sounds so sure.
“What do you mean? Eddie, you hardly know me, it’s really okay, I wouldn’t want you to risk everything for me.” You sigh, your head falling between your shoulders. “If my dad knew, he would lose it. I know that, and you know that. I don’t want you to lose your job, or be an outcast.”
“Yeah, well I don’t want those things either. But, that doesn’t change the fact that I can’t stay away from you. Darlin’, do you know what soul bounds are?”
“Oh.” He watches your eyes widen and your jaw drop open in realization.
“Yeah, I think we uh - I think we might have one. So when I say I can’t stay away from you, I mean it’ll fucking kill me to.” The look on Eddie’s face has you on the brink of tears, you want to throw yourself into his arms and rub your face all along his scent gland to comfort him.
“Yeah, that makes a lot of sense, actually. It kind of feels like my whole entire life since I presented makes sense, now that I think about it.” You let out a breath you feel like you’ve been holding for years. You never thought you’d find a mate, but here he was, made just for you. “Well, my dad can’t really do shit then. He can’t keep us apart, and if he tries to do anything to you I’ll tell him that I’m going with you wherever you go.”
“Sweetheart.” He takes your hands in his and a feeling of relief instantly washes over you. “I can’t ask you to do that… I know how close you and your dad are from the way he talks about you.”
“Okay, well you didn’t ask me to, I want to. I never thought I’d find a mate, I genuinely thought there was something wrong with me because of my scent. But now, I find you? My soulmate? I can’t lose you Eddie.” You squeeze his hands and run your thumbs over the backs of them reassuringly.
“I feel the same, I spent my whole life being an outcast, and then when I presented as an alpha I thought maybe I’d finally get some form of respect. But instead every single person that was supposed to be biologically attracted to me told me there was something ‘off’ about my scent. Not that they necessarily smelled good to me either, but it was still a blow to my ego. But then you show up? This sweet little thing bringing me a pie in her tiny little dress? You’ve made me feel more wanted in a few weeks than I have my entire life.”
Your heart feels like it’s going to burst at his speech, you can’t believe hours ago you thought you were disposable to him. You grab his face in your hands, kissing him with fever. He groans into your mouth, his hands finding your hips as he returns your kiss with equal enthusiasm. He pulls you into his lap and you kiss each other until you both feel like your lungs are going to burst and you have to pull away for air.
“Can we maybe wait a bit, to tell my dad? I just want to enjoy this for a bit, before shit hits the fan.” You rest your forehead against his, your hands still holding his face tenderly.
“Absolutely, I think I’d like to live a little longer.” Eddie chuckles and you laugh along with him.
“Shut up! I’m not going to let him kill you, I swear. I’ll be like, your knight in shining armor.”
“Oh yeah? Sugars going spicy on me? Is that it?” He nuzzles his nose against yours before dragging it down your cheek, jaw, and then down your scent gland. He inhales before placing a gentle kiss there.
“Oh, you have noooo idea.” He tickles your sides and you laugh, wiggling around in his lap.
“Hmm, I think I wanna find out, you wanna show me this spicy side?” He kisses your neck again, gently nipping at it.
“Absolutely. Think you can take the heat?” You lean back and wiggle your eyebrows at him.
“Ooohh you’re in for it now!!” He laughs, tackling you down on the couch. Sending you both into a fit of giggles.
He climbs on top of you, his arms bracketing either side of your head, his hair like a halo around his head with the way your lamp light was glowing behind him.
“You’re so beautiful Eddie.” You smile up at him sweetly, he doesn’t think he will ever get tired of hearing you say that.
“Yeah? You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, sugar.” He sends you a wink that has butterflies fluttering in your belly. The flutters quickly turn into an eruption when he connects his lips with yours. He slips his tongue into your mouth, and you moan at the taste of him. The kisses turn heated when you roll your hips up against his, a low groan rumbling through him.
“I want you, Eddie.” You mumble against his mouth, your tongue darting out to lick across his plump, kiss swollen bottom lip.
“I’m all yours, sweetheart.” He places another hungry kiss on your lips before littering open mouth kisses along your jaw and throat. He laves his tongue out along your collar bones, kissing down your chest. He mouths at your nipples through the thin material of your tank top, swirling his tongue around them until they are both peaked. He grabs the hem of your shirt and you lift your arms so he can pull it over your head. “Perfect tits. Perfect body. Perfect little omega.”
“Mmm, just for you, alpha, all for you.” Your hands greedily pull at the hem of his faded band tee and he obliges you, using one hand to pull it over his head. “Wanna taste you, alpha, can I?”
“If you keep looking at me like that? Sugar, I’ll give you anything you want.” He runs his thumb along your bottom lip and you take the digit into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it.
You look up at him with big round eyes as you moan at the taste of him. He stands in front of the couch and you push yourself up onto your knees, perfectly eye level with the very prominent bulge in his pants. You make quick work of his belt, undoing his pants so you can push them down over his hips with his boxers. His cock springs free, a bead of pearly white precum drips from his slit and you can’t resist leaning forward to lick it off.
“Fuck, you taste so good, baby.” Baby. Chills run through his entire body. You’ve never called him that before, and it was doing things to him he didn’t think were possible.
You suck his tip, swirling your tongue around it like you did with his thumb. You take him all the way in your mouth, gagging when he hits the back of your throat. Drool fills your mouth and you pull off to him to spit into your palm without breaking eye contact with him. You bring your hand to his shaft, jerking him off with your lubed up palm a few times before taking half of him in your mouth again. Your mouth works in tandem with your hand at the base of his cock, your tongue caressing that thick vein that runs along the bottom of his shaft.
“Oh fuuuuck.” Eddie throws his head back, his thick neck adorned with veins, his Adam’s Apple bobs as he groans at the feeling of you swallowing him down. “That’s so good, your mouth is so good.”
His fingers thread through your hair and he looks back down at you. He has to close his eyes again seconds later to keep himself from exploding down your throat right then and there. Your eyes were rimmed with tears, your mascara that was already smudged from your nap running down your cheeks, drool was dripping down the sides of your mouth and the way you were looking at him like he hung the stars with his dick down your throat made him insane. You move your hand so you can take him all the way in your mouth again. Your throat flexes around him when you gag and he has to use his grip on your hair to pull you off. You whine, trying to take him back into your mouth.
“Baby girl, I’m sorry, but you gotta stop or I’m going to fucking lose it, and I really want to fill you with my cum and just keep fucking you until your body is limp.” He grabs your chin in his hand, his thumb spreading the drool on your mouth all around your lips. “Turn around, all fours.”
You position yourself on your hands and knees on top of the couch cushions, arching your back and wiggling your ass in the air. Eddie groans at the sight, walking up behind you, he hooks his fingers in the band of your tiny sleep shorts, pulling them down with your panties where they pool at the bottom of your bent knees. His hands roughly grab onto your ass cheeks, spreading them so he can see your messy cunt. You clench around nothing and a little yelp escapes you when you feel his spit drip down onto your already wet cunt.
“Fuuuuck Eddie, please, touch me.”
“Don’t worry your pretty little head, I’m always going to give you what you want, sweet thing.” He runs his fingers through your slit, gathering your wetness and rubbing it around. He circles your clit, applying the perfect amount of pressure. Two fingers circle your entrance and push inside you. He curves them just right, rubbing them against that sweet spot inside you before he starts to thrust them in and out of you.
“Oh shit! Yes, yes, yes, Eddie, fuck.” His thumb finds your clit while he continues to fuck his fingers into you and you’re already embarrassingly close to cumming.
“You gonna cum already, baby? I can feel your pussy sucking my fingers in.” He curves his fingers against your g-spot again and it’s the final straw. A feral moan rips through you and your pussy spasms around his fingers. “Oh that’s it, good girl, cum for me, cum for your alpha.”
Eddie pulls his fingers from inside you, bringing them to his mouth, moaning at your sweet taste. You hear him kicking off his jeans the rest of the way before the couch dips behind you. He positions himself on his knees, taking his cock in his hand. He runs it through your wet lips, the tip of it bumping against your clit with each stroke.
“Baby, don’t tease me.” You whine, pushing your hips back against him. “Need your cock.”
He lines himself up with your entrance and pushes inside with one thrust. You’re so wet the stretch barely burns, almost immediately turning into immense pleasure. He doesn’t waste any time starting up at a brutal pace. His hips slap against your ass, his balls bumping your clit whenever he thrusts at a certain angle.
“Fuck, this pussy really was fucking made for me. She’s sucking me in like a vice grip.” His hand pushes down on your lower back and you take the hint, resting your cheek on the couch cushion so your back is arched further, your ass as far in the air as it can go. This new angle has him hitting deeper than before, his hand snakes around your front to rub your clit and it sends you over the edge again.
“Oh god - oh fuck, Eddie!!!” Your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, you push your hips back against him, fucking him deeper into you as you ride out your high.
He wraps his forearm around the front of your shoulders, using his grip to pull your back flush against his chest. He’s deeper than ever before, practically abusing your g-spot in the best way. The slight pressure on your throat from the way his arm is pinning you to his body is delicious, and when his fingers resume their ministrations on your clit it already has you close to the edge again. His mouth latches onto your scent gland, sucking a bruise into it.
“Mark me alpha, please please, I want to be yours. Please do it, I want it so bad.” Your hands reach behind you, lacing your fingers in his curls. You arch your back so you can bare your neck to him. Eddie thinks about telling you no again, he considers telling you he’d like to wait until you tell your dad.
But the primal part of him quickly erases those thoughts. He wants to please you, in every way possible. He wants to claim you. He doesn’t want to tell you no. So he doesn’t. He runs his nose along your scent gland, inhaling your otherworldly scent. He runs his teeth along the juncture of your throat before sinking them into your soft flesh.
The feeling sends you both over the edge. His teeth are still clamped down on your neck. Your cunt is squeezing him tight while ropes of his cum spill inside you. Everything felt so right, and it wasn’t just the fact that it was the best orgasm of your life. Your entire body felt warm, your heart felt full, you felt so connected to Eddie. It was everything. His knot swells inside you, popping out to connect you in every way possible. He pulls away from your neck, soothing the bloody teeth marks with his warm tongue.
“Wow.” He breaths out, carefully leaning back towards the arm of the couch and pulling you with him. He circles his arms around you, caging you in his embrace.
“Yeah, wow is right.” You chuckle, nuzzling deeper into his chest.
“You’re amazing, you know that? I’m a lucky son of a bitch.” He runs his hands through your hair, down your chest, his fingers stop to trace the bloodied mark on your throat. “Are you okay with everything?”
“I’m fantastic. I’ve never been happier than I am at this moment, Eddie Munson. If you’re lucky, I’m lucky as hell. I’m glad it’s you, I’m glad you’re my mate.” You tilt your head to the side so you can look up at him.
“Me too, Sugar, me too.” He looks down at your adoringly, taking your face in his hand and leaning down to place a gentle kiss on your lips.
⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️
You’ve been seeing Eddie in mostly secret for the last few months. You told your best friend back home over the phone and he told his friends Steve and Robin. Things were fantastic, for the most part. He’s taken you on a few dates, either out of town or somewhere people wouldn’t see you. He made you happier than you’ve ever been in your entire life but sneaking around was getting old fast.
Eddie was for lack of better words, paranoid. You’ve spent every night together since he mated you. Either at his place or at your own. But every morning after he showered for work he would put clothes on directly from the dryer, then immediately douse himself with cologne. He always kisses you before his shower because he refuses to come within three feet of you afterwards. He was absolutely terrified of showing up to your dad’s shop for work smelling like his daughter that he was seeing in secret. After a few weeks of that you both decided it was easier if you went your separate ways when you woke up and did your morning routines on your own. Which you hated, you loved the domesticity of waking up and going about your morning with him.
You also hadn’t seen your dad since the day Eddie mated you, always making up excuses when he invited you for dinner or asked to come see your place finally. You lucked out on your day off when he decided to come into the bakery for a surprise visit. You hated it, if you were being honest. You’ve never hid anything from him, especially not something this big. He was a pretty laid back parent when you were growing up, so you never really felt the need to lie to him.
It was Sunday evening, you and Eddie both had the day off so he took you out on his bike. He drove a few towns over to take you to this vintage book store he thought you’d like, he showed you the oldest cemetery in Indiana, which you adored, and then he took you out to lunch.
When you got back to his apartment you wanted to show him how grateful you really were for how thoughtful the dates he took you on always were. You rode him till he came and his knot was buried deep inside you, then you just kept riding him until he came again. You both dozed off cozy in each other's arms not long after that.
You wake up before Eddie, feeling sick to your stomach. You climb out of bed, carefully untangling yourself from him so you don’t wake him up and throw on one of his shirts and your panties from earlier so you can go into the kitchen for a glass of water. You chug it greedily, trying to will the nausea away. You might have one other, not so little secret. Last week you were at the bakery running numbers and planning for the weeks ahead when the calendar on the wall caught your eye. You started doing some math in your head and immediately told your employee Brooke that you needed to run to the store. You bought three different pregnancy tests and every single one screamed back at you with two lines, pregnant, or a little pink plus sign.
You hadn’t told Eddie yet, and you were surprised he hadn’t realized it since omegas scents usually change when they’re pregnant. Either he hadn’t noticed, or he was waiting for you to tell him on your own terms. If he hadn’t though? It was only a matter of time before he did. You had no idea how he would react, sure things were said in the heat of the moment during sex but you and him have never actually talked about having kids. That, and he was already afraid to tell your dad that you were mates, now you were going to have to tell him you were knocked up with his best friend’s kid too. Despite all that, you want this baby, you want a life and a family with Eddie. He would be a good dad, kind, goofy, attentive. Would your baby have his eyes? His hair? The sound of a knock on the door rips you from your daydreams.
Who the hell was here? You weren’t expecting anyone. Should you wake Eddie? It’s his door, after all.
“Hey Ed, you home? Wanted to talk to you about something!” The sound of your dads voice makes your blood run cold. Shit. You dash down the hall towards Eddie’s room where he’s stumbling out of the doorway while slipping on gray sweatpants. He already has a tee shirt on and his eyes meet yours in a panic.
“It’s my fucking dad, does he fucking know?” You whisper-yell at him. Eddie shrugs at you with panicked eyes.
“Go in the room, in case it’s about something else, maybe I can get him to leave.” He grabs your shoulders, directing you towards the room. You go inside, shutting the door behind you. You feel like a fucking teenager sneaking around with her boyfriend instead of a grown ass woman with her mate, and you hated it. You almost want to just go open the door yourself and get it over with.
Eddie knows damn well that if your dad is here for a different reason, it won’t make a difference. His place definitely smells like you, there’s absolutely no way it doesn’t. He takes a deep breath before pulling the door open.
“Hey Dale, what’s up man?” Eddie feels like he’s going to shit his pants, your dad is taller than him by a few inches but bigger than him in mass by a lot. He could absolutely kick his ass if he wanted to. He also really didn’t want to disappoint him. But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t tired of sneaking around.
“Hey brother, you got a minute to talk? I wanted to run something by you.” Oh fuck, does he fucking know? Is he playing it cool and any second he’s going to choke Eddie to death?
“Yeah, sure man. What’s up?”
“You gonna let me in?” The older man chuckles, raising an eyebrow at his younger mentee.
“Oh! Uh, yeah, come in.” Eddie steps aside to let him in and he feels like his heart is going to beat out of his chest. This was it, this is where he dies.
“Whoa! It fucking reeks in here, you got an omega you’re keeping a secret, Ed?” You hear your dad chuckle through the door and internally cringe.
“Uh - I mean - “
“Hold on…” Your dad audibly sniffs the air and Eddie watches his expression harden, his eyebrows furrow and the look in his eyes is the one Eddie has been terrified of. He looks like he wants to kill him. “Eddie… What the fuck is going on here man? Why the hell does your apartment reek like my daughter?”
You take that as your queue to enter, pulling Eddie’s door open and walking out to face the music.
“Hey dad…” You wave awkwardly, trying to use your other hand to make the shirt you’re wearing longer, suddenly very aware of your lack of pants.
Your dad takes in your appearance. Your disheveled hair, Eddie’s shirt, the mark on your neck. His nostrils flare and a growl rips through him. He darts at Eddie, grabbing him by the collar of his tee shirt and shoving him against the nearest wall. A stack of empty mixing bowls knock off the counter in the commotion and your dad shoves his forearm against Eddie’s throat.
“I can’t fucking believe you!! After all I’ve done for you!?” His voice drops to an authoritative alpha tone and growls continue to rumble in his chest. You’ve never seen your dad this pissed before.
“Dale, I’m sorry, I - I didn’t mean for this to happen! It’s not what you’re thinking if you just let me explain-“
“EXPLAIN!? Explain how you mated my only child!? I don’t think there’s much to explain here, Ed! It’s pretty fucking clear what happened here!!!” Your dad bellows, shoving his arm tighter against Eddie’s throat, causing him to gasp.
“Dad!!! Fucking stop!!!” You run over and grab onto your dads forearm to try and rip it off of Eddie. To no avail, he was strong as hell. “It’s not his fault! We couldn’t help it! He’s my mate! We have a bond! You can’t hurt him without hurting me! He’s mine! Get the fuck off of him!!”
“A bond? What? Like a trauma bond? Because this situation is fucked.” Your dad turns his head to look at you, his lips set to a snarl, his arm still locking Eddie in place.
“No, a soul bound, dumb ass! He’s my mate, my fated mate! Get the fuck off of him!!!” A growl of your own rumbles through your chest, your hands trying and failing yet again to pull your dad from your alpha.
“That doesn’t change the fact that he should’ve come to me like a man and told me the minute he found out! You’re a fucking coward and you don’t deserve someone like my daughter!” He was clearly irrational, his scent nearly suffocating you with how thickly it was permeating the air.
“IM PREGNANT!!!” Two pairs of wide eyes snap toward you, Eddie’s mouth is dropped open in shock, your dad looks like he’s going to puke.
“YOU’RE WHAT!?” Your dad shouts, his grip on Eddie subconsciously loosens and he takes the opportunity to slip free from his grasp. He rushes to your side, taking your face in his hands.
“Are you really? Why didn’t you tell me? Are you okay?”
“I was going to, I was just - I was nervous about how you’d react.” You avert your gaze from his, afraid to look him in the eyes when you hear his response.
“Hey.” His hands thumbs run across the apples of your cheeks and he lowers his face so you're forced to make eye contact with him. “If you ever thought I’d be anything less than stoked to have a baby with you, you’re crazy.”
“Really?” Your eyes well with tears and your bottom lip trembles. As your dad watches this entire exchange his face starts to soften. He looks between you and Eddie, taking in the way you look at each other and your body language. He also doesn’t miss the way that the panic in your scent is now nonexistent.
“Of course, Sugar. I want everything with you, I love you.”
“I - I love you too, Eddie.” The tears that were threatening to escape before are now cascading down your cheeks. He uses his thumbs to wipe them away, placing a gentle kiss on your nose.
“Dale.” Eddie turns towards your dad, putting his arm around your shoulders. “I love your daughter, and I know it’s not ideal, but she’s my mate, my fated mate, and the mother of my child. You can fire me, cast me out, do your absolute worst. But I won’t leave their side unless I’m dead and gone.”
“If you cast Eddie out, I’m going with him.” You nuzzle into your alphas side, putting your hand on his chest.
“Hold on now, nobody’s casting anybody out, or firing anybody. I’m sorry for ya know, kinda choking you out there, Ed. This was just… a shock.”
“I know dad.” You step away from Eddie to rest a hand on your dads shoulder. “And I’m sorry we didn’t tell you right away, but that was on me, not Eddie. I told him I wanted to wait to tell you, and it’s not like we planned this. We didn’t even realize you knew each other until that day I came into the shop.”
“He still should’ve told me, or you should’ve. I know I’m protective of you but if you told me all of this, yeah I would’ve been mad, but I would’ve heard you out. It’s not so bad, now that I think about it. You guys make a lot of sense actually.” Your dads hand comes to rest on top of yours on his shoulder. “I always wanted you to find a good man, and I know Eddie is a good man. I know he will take care of you. Plus, I’ve never seen him like this, I’m uh - I’m happy for you guys.”
“And notttt to call you out or anything dad, but Tami is like 12 years younger than you and you met her when she was in her 20s, just saying.” You roll your eyes and playfully squeeze his shoulder.
“Yeah, yeah, alright. I get it, I reacted poorly. So… I’m gonna be a pop pop?” Your dads now tear brimmed eyes search yours.
“Yeah dad, you’re gonna be a pop pop.” Tears flow from your eyes and he pulls you into one of his signature bear hugs. You sob into his chest, finally feeling whole again. You really missed him. “I hated lying to you, I’m sorry.”
“Hey honey, what’s done is done, we’re okay now, alright?” He rubs your back lovingly, pushing you back so he can look at your face. “I’m happy for you. Come here, Ed, get your dumb ass over here.”
Eddie chuckles, wiping a tear from underneath his eye, your dad pulls him into a hug, that he happily returns.
“You gonna take good care of my girl?” Your dad pulls back, one hand gripping Eddie’s shoulder, the other pointed at his chest. A joking glare set on his features.
“Yeah Dale, I’m gonna do everything I can for the rest of my life to make sure that woman, and our child are safe and happy.” That only makes you cry more, which has Eddie rushing to your side to take him into his arms.
“Okay, I came here to talk to you about some work shit but that can wait, I’ll leave you two to talk and celebrate amongst yourselves.” Your dad walks over to you, placing a kiss on your forehead. “I’m proud of you, pumpkin, in everything you do. Don’t be a stranger, alright?”
“Yeah dad, of course not, never. You’re going to be the best pop pop, you know that?”
“Alright, alright, stop making me cry. I love you.” He ruffles your hair, turning to Eddie. “Have a good night, Ed. I’ll see ya at work tomorrow, congratulations.”
“Thanks, man. I’ll see you tomorrow.” As soon as your dad shuts the door behind him Eddie is taking you in his arms, spinning you around.
“Whoa, Eddie, motion sickness.” You giggle and he sets you gently back down on your feet.
“We’re really having a baby?” His chocolate eyes shine as his hands come to rest on your abdomen, staring at it adoringly.
“Yeah, we’re really having a baby.” The tears that you can’t seem to get to stop stream down your cheeks and you rest your hands on top of his.
“There’s no one in the world I’d rather start a family with, I love you, sugar.” Eddie rests his forehead against yours, nuzzling your noses together.
“Me either, I love you so much, baby.” One of Eddie’s hands laces through your hair while the other cups your neck, his thumb caressing the mark he left there all those weeks ago. He connects his lips with yours and everything in the world just feels right.
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#eddie munson x reader#Dolly writes#alpha!eddie munson#alpha!eddie munson x omega!reader#alpha!eddie#older!eddie munson#older!eddie x reader#older!eddie smut#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader smut#Eddie Munson one shot#Eddie Munson fanfiction
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i've got headaches and bad luck but they couldn't touch you
[not my gif. title from song Of All the Gin Joints in All the World]
pairing: joel miller x fem!reader (afab, use of she/her, use of the word girl)
rating: explicit. (18+. mdni.)
word count: 4.6k
requested: Could you write something (literally anything really) like mean Joel x feisty Reader but based on the ancient Fall Out Boys song "Of All the Gin Joints in All the World" pretty please? 🥺🥹 I was just listening and I thought the lyrics were perfect for your writing ❤️But as always no pressure and no problem at all if you don't like the idea or anything else. Lots of love! P.S. smut is very welcome btw hihihi
summary: “Joel's not one for feelings anymore, but you seem to pull them out of him like it's your goddamn job."
warnings: established previous hookups, use of girl/babygirl, established age gap (unspecified but addressed openly), brief mention of oral m!receiving, brief mention of reader and joel’s canon-typical scars. choking, mean!Joel & brat tamer!Joel, brat!reader lol, dirty talk (its joel), degradation, use of the word slut, slight dumbification, spitting, rough sex, unprotected PiV, cum eating, nipple play, slapping (tits, ass). think that's it!
notes: okay finally another mean!Joel for the soul!!! this is super unedited also. tysm for the request, obv inspired by the song Of All The Gin Joints in All the World by FOB. :) this was fun and i hope yall love it! dont b afraid to request anything yall wanna read at all and as always pls comment or reblog :) love u xoxo
[other Joel fics: mr. miller series fever landmines ]
★
Joel Miller isn't sure exactly when all this bullshit started.
one day, he was introduced to you fleetingly in the cafeteria while you and Maria had an intense conversation - he’s not sure if you spoke for more than ten seconds; but months later and Joel happens to know exactly what your sweaty skin tastes like on the sharpness of his tongue and could probably list his favorite pairs of underwear you own.
it's nothing, really.
you patrol together often, and Joel guesses that out of all the insufferable people he's had to deal with, you're definitely not the worst. perhaps your handiness with a trigger - not nearly as inept as his own but definitely a close second - helps; or maybe it's the way your mouth feels wrapped around his cock.
and he's not stupid; he knows exactly what Tommy was doing when he signed Joel with you for patrol - the same shit he'd been pulling since they were thirty years younger and Joel was fresh out of the relationship with Sarah's mom. but it's different now, because life is not the same - nothing is the same.
Joel's not one for feelings anymore, but you seem to pull them out of him like it's your goddamn job.
you are one talkative motherfucker; usually, that'd drive Joel up a wall, but after repeated and incessant exposure to Ellie for such an extended period, his patience has surprisingly grown.
and unlike others, you never acted nervous or scared by him. irritated, maybe, but it's not like he cares much if you get irritated by his attitude; you're worse than he can be.
at first, he thought you were just fucking him because you just didn't know who he really was yet. but months into whatever this shit is, and you're still - for whatever fucking reason - hanging around him, even after everything. he likes it, though, that you fight fire with fire.
and maybe that's why Tommy stuck you two together, because in some ways it was inevitable - maybe it was a good thing, Joel thinks.
but this morning, as Joel's mind slams against his body, jolting him awake, his aching head makes him double-guess that.
it's weird how different it all is now - before you, Joel was tortured through nights plagued with sweats and memories. blood, pain, loss. he used to dream restlessly of life and all of its unforgiving horrors; but now, to his shock, he finds himself plagued with dreams of you.
he gasps awake - he's not sure he'll ever stop that.
but this time, you're next to him in the bed. his skin feels warm as the light filters through the blinds that stay constantly pulled down this time of year to retain the cool air and Joel lets out a shuttered sigh, his head aching.
it's only the second time you've stayed the night. he's never stayed at yours, god forbid - but a small part of him aches this morning when you slide out of his heavy, sleep-addled muscles. in the absence of your heat there is still bliss for a moment, until he's roused fully by your voice.
"these sheets are dirty." the sound carries into his ears, melodic and fiery. he cracks one eye open, hand raising to rub over his face - a deep, tired sigh.
"g'mornin' to you too." he snarks, sighing as he pulls himself on aching muscles to blink his eyes open; you stand over the bed, on the side that usually remains cold an empty while Joel thrashes in fits of restless sleep. there's not a single scrap of clothing on your body.
he feels himself stir at the sight of you, naked, neck painted in a splattering of beautiful marks that'd been pulled forth in moments of ecstasy the night before.
you send him a half smirk, shrugging as you tug on a shirt - his, fuck, his stomach swirls at the sight of you wrapped in him. something primal crawls in his chest as you smile at him, legs almost glowing in their bareness as they knock against the side of the mattress. your fingers brush the fabric to the left of his head.
"there's stains on the pillows." you shake your head, your face alluring in its tease. he feels himself roll his eyes as he grunts, "you're actin' like it ain't your makeup stainin' it?"
he stares at the marks on the pillowcase; black, from that shit you sometimes put on your eyes which just makes them all the more beautiful, wide, and alluring. the makeup that's surely expired after all this time but still is something you like to do to, as you'd mentioned once, 'reclaim your humanity.' whatever.
Joel would never admit it to you, but he hadn't even really tried to wash out those stains; something about them gives him a warmth in his chest every morning that he wakes up in this cold bed.
but when his eyes fall back to you in your silence, you smirk and it hits him: you're fucking teasing him.
he glares at you as your lips curl in a huff of a laugh, shaking your head. "if you keep complainin' about every damn thing, might as well just fuck you on the floor." he mutters, mostly to himself- but also to see the way your thighs shift, eyes widening slightly as color washes your cheeks. you're squirming at his words, just like that - oh, he's got you pinned.
you'd like that, you dirty little thing.
but you regain your composure quicker than lightning, ready to snap back; yet another tally to add on the list of things he admires about you.
"you're such a gentleman, Miller." you snide, fanning yourself sardonically with one hand as you roll your eyes, searching for your underwear.
he remembers the first time you'd said that to him -
"why so shy?" you'd purred.
the memory of your voice curls around his ears as he huffs, watching you bend over and give him a complete view of your ass as you fetch your panties from the floor.
"c'mon, Joel, you don't need to be such a gentleman. 's nothing you haven't seen before." you'd stripped yourself of your shirt, your pert nipples pebbling in the cold breeze as he'd sat, cleaning his rifle. "the hell's the matter with you?" he'd grumbled; but it didn't stop either of you. you'd been pressed between him and the splitting backseat of the broken down crashed car within seconds, anyways.
his eyes meet yours as you stand again.
he snarks, "well you’re givin' me a headache, an' I've only been up for two minutes." he glares at you, swinging to pull his boxers over his hips, standing up to find his shirt. he pointedly ignores the glare you send him at his grumpiness.
"you're the one acting dumb," you mutter, "acting like I'm the one who gives you headaches." you retort, a teasing glint in your eye; he knows that look. Joel knows you'd never get a headache from him - as much as he pisses you off, he knows you're too fiery, too lucky to get caught up in whatever miserable puddle he's drowning in.
because Joel's bad luck curls around his fists wherever he goes; the talons reaching out, crawling through every hallway and seeping through every door. you, on the other hand, are like a goddamn firecracker. Joel hates the idea, but you're... somehow gifted in that way.
he's convinced his bad luck couldn't touch you if it tried.
no matter the dumb shit you pull - forgetting a flashlight, not flipping off your safety that one moment when the clicker had stumbled out of the brush; all of that, and you escape unscathed, nothing but a giggle and a half-shrug from you before you move on to the next stupid thing.
if you weren't such a goddamn brat, it'd be charming.
his eyes snap to yours as your words fall from your lips; a burning in his chest at your tone. he watches your legs carry you into his bathroom, and he can't help it when his follow yours.
you haven't even flipped on the lights before he shuts the door behind him - you're already wearing that snarky fucking smile on your face, and he's straining already against his boxers.
he stares down at you, crowding you slowly into the wall. "what the fuck did you just say to me?" he hisses, mouth close to yours. as you turn your chin up towards his face, he can tell that you try your hardest to control your smirk, playing into the tense energy that's emanating from his chest.
"I said you're acting dumb."
you repeat, tilting your head slightly as you drink in the darkness in his eyes. lord, you'd let that darkness swallow you in a fucking heartbeat.
speaking of; your own heartbeat thunders in your chest, anticipating. you know what's coming, you can nearly taste it on your tongue.
"oh, 's that right?" Joel asks, tilting his head to stare down at you. you swallow as you stare back into those deep irises, the small bit of golden light that shines through the small bathroom window illuminating in an ominously heavenly ray.
his hand settles on the crook of your shoulder and neck, sliding gently upwards as you nod your head defiantly, pushing as far as you can to see when he'll snap. his eyes glisten in temptation; daring you to act up more.
raising your brows, you try to play like it's obvious, "waking up and complaining about your headaches, old man?" you tut gently, shaking your head innocently. "I don't think it's my fault that you fucked me twice, immediately passed out and now your head hurts when you've woken up the next morning. you know better than to push yourself in your old age, Joel. that's stupid." you add coyly, knowing it'll push him over the edge - he loves it when you act like a brat, no matter how much he denies it.
his response is immediate and exactly what you'd hoped for.
he's on you in a split second - hand sliding from your shoulder to grip your throat, pushing you back onto the wall of the bathroom. the towel bar digs into your middle-back slightly and you gasp in arousal at the force of his body on yours. you can feel his cock, hard and straining in his boxers, as it presses into your lower stomach.
"y'wanna play like that, baby?" he growls, "why you fuckin' around with an old man like me, then?" he asks.
your face heats up, arousal flooding your core, your cunt slowly wetting itself at the purr of his voice - the meaner the words, the larger the flame.
"hm?" he gently pushes, raising his brows as his hand squeezes gently on your throat, nudging you against the wall further; your gasp is slightly rasped under the pressure, your whole body screaming with desire. this is what you love - mean, angry, hungry Joel Miller. "'s it because nobody fucks you like I do, is that it?"
his knee slides between yours, wedging himself high up, rubbing suddenly against your aching pussy, the material of your cotton already soaked with a damp spot that rubs against his thick thigh.
"Joel, fuck-" you groan, already willing to just do what you can to get him to touch you. his hand on your throat tightens at your word, thigh rutting up to slide against your needy clit, your hips bucking at the feeling. "-'s because nobody else is so easy." your fiery mouth betrays your body; the snarky comment snaps his eyes to yours, a dark breath leaving his lips.
"that's ironic," he snaps, "comin' from someone who begged me to fuck them for hours."
your face burns at the memory of the first time you and Joel'd hooked up; your desperate voice hoarse from pleading him to fuck you - out in the middle of the woods, a sleeping bag that, by the end, had rips on it from rocks and twigs and the force of his thrusts; the shyness gone from either of you as your touches made up for all the silence between you.
he hums lowly, watching you as you swallow at the memory, his thigh rutting up again and pulling a yelp of pleasure from your lips. "y'don't feel so high 'n mighty when I fuck you stupid, right baby?" he asks, voice dripping with condescendence as he nods gently, encouraging you to answer him. your core throbs at his words, your mouth going dry.
his hand leaves your throat; you swallow a gulp of air, staring with wide eyes as he grasps your jaw roughly. "answer me."
"n-no, I don't." you mutter, voice sounding small; the arousal that pulses through your veins begs your mouth to be smart, do what Joel says so he'll give in to what you want.
he smirks, hands roughly grabbing the thick of your hips and flipping you around to press you against the counter, your hips bending as he shoves himself just behind you. your eyes meet yourself and his own hawkish gaze in the mirror in front of you; your heated breath fogs up the mirror in the faint morning light.
his fingers thread through your hair, tugging you back again as he tilts your head back. his upside down face, smirking down at you, has your thighs clenching - "open." he orders, voice stern.
your tongue sticks out and he wastes no time spitting roughly onto your tongue, moving your head back to stare into the mirror; his eyes meet yours as his spit slides over your tongue and his furrowed brows twitch with a slight smirk. "look at you, doin' what I tell you. now swallow it and say thank you."
your core flutters at his words deliciously as you do as you're told; swallowing, you take a breath and mutter, "thank you," - though it's more breathless than you expected, Joel seems to approve. he hums, "there are those manners," he mutters into your ear, cock pressing against the swell of your ass. "almost seemed like you'd forgotten you had them."
"didn't forget." you mutter, face heating up as your pussy aches, fluttering around nothing and desiring for his fingers, his cock - anything.
one rough palm slides his shirt up your torso, exposing your bare tits to both of you through the mirror. with his face stooped down near your neck, a short inhale of your hair before his hand reaches it's destination - your throat.
"then why're you actin' up?" he rasps, teeth grazing your shoulder. he squeezes his hand again and your eyes roll back in pleasure, arousal soon slicking your thighs as you think you may die from all the teasing. "you don't wanna cum?"
your eyes widen, breath halting as you shake your head, "wh- no- no!" you hiss, "I do want to cum, please."
his other hand raises, slapping your breast harsh and quick; your gasp of shock tapers off into a whine of pleasure, your nipples hard in arousal as his palm comes to soothe over the sting.
"then why're you acting like this?" he asks again, shaking his head. another slap, this time to your other breast. his eyes follow the skin of your chest; the way you gasp, your whines at the slight stinging and the pleasure that follows. fingers pinch your nipples, teasing in circles before another sharp slap echoes through the room. "just a little brat, y'can't help yourself." he decides, biting on your neck lightly.
you can feel him rut against you hard, grinding his hips as he lets out a short groan. you let out a low moan, whining slightly when he smacks your tits again, skin glowing with the impact. his eyes meet yours in the mirror. "quit the whinin'," he grunts, rutting his hard cock against your ass, "you'll be stuffed full of me soon enough." he grunts, "then we'll see who's dumb."
your shaky moan sounds more like a groan, elbows falling to steady yourself as Joel releases your throat, tossing you forward to grab your hips instead. he pulls you back, grinding into you as his head tilts back in how own small groan of pleasure. "this ass." Joel grunts to himself as he palms the curve of your ass in both large hands, one falling to smack harsh onto the left.
you're dripping down the inside of your thighs as he ruts against you twice more; thick fingers soon slide to thumb at the slick wet of your panties. his fingers tease the wet material that's glued to your pussy with need, tracing over your lips lightly over the fabric. "pretty pussy, just for me." he mutters; you nod, looking up at him through the mirror, "all for you, Joel." you affirm, voice shaking with anticipation.
"you gonna be good when I fill you up, baby?" he lifts his brow, stern look as he palms himself. fuck, he's so sexy behind you like this, his thumb slowly dragging the material of your panties to the side and exposing your weeping cunt; you nod, "yes, I'll do anything-"
you're cut off by a sharp gasp as the stretch of his cock's head cuts off your brain. he eases in gently at first which you're more than grateful for - no matter how many times Joel fucks you, his size is always something you have to adjust to; especially after your rounds last night left you barely able to walk straight.
he lets out a breath, "there y'go, baby, take me." he says it surprisingly gently, easing in inch by inch as you breathe deeply, your soaked pussy easing his cock through your channels. his cock is heavy and aching as he slides into you, sheathing you fully within another few seconds - Joel's hands grip so hard on your ass, splaying you open for him, that you think his fingers will remain there for days.
he's still only for a moment, letting you accommodate to his size before he's leaning forward to press his chest to your back, "gonna fuck you stupid, baby."
"please, Joel," you groan, cunt fluttering, begging him to move. "do it."
it's all that he needs before he's setting a pace that has you whining under him, your breath choking as you brace yourself agains the counter of the sink.
it's bliss. his hips are sharp, the reach of his cock pressing against the spongy spot inside you, dragging against your pulsing walls. "fuck, so deep-" you hiss, eyes closing in pleasure as he presses himself against you, hips surely going to bruise against the thrusts that shove you into the countertop.
one hand sneaks over your front, grasping at your tits as his cock reaches up into you deeply. he lets out a grunt, "fuckin'- christ, you're s-so tight," he grunts, "even after fuckin' you all night."
you moan, the quick bout of his praise causing you to squeeze around him, trapping him in your aching desire. the both of you moan at the feeling and suddenly one hand presses on your spine until you're low to the counter. his hands grab your shoulders, fingers curling around the base of your throat as he changes his pace to hard and rough, the sound of your ass against his hips nearly hitting your ears over your cries of pleasure.
the noises of your arousal swallowing his cock echo around the room in a familiar, comforting chorus as you both let out shuttering moans; his strong arms pull you back until you're once again pressed against his broad chest. his breath fans over your neck and you whine slightly when his thrusts press you up onto your tip-toes. his lips find your ear, "how's that feel?" your hole flutters from the deepness in his voice - he groans at the feeling.
your response is a whine of ecstasy as you claw at his forearms, head tilting back until you can almost feel his erratic heartbeat. his chest rumbles with a light chuckle, "look, barely took ya any time to get fucked out on my cock," he praises, hand petting your wild hair, "knew you'd be good for me. always take what I give you, right?"
you nod, desperate to reach the climax that's easily built within you from the stretch of him deep in you and his voice in your ear. your clit aches from being ignored and your hand snakes down to rub light circles on it; your hips jolt as you gasp raggedly, eyes fluttering shut in pleasure.
"no." he growls, hand grabbing your jaw sternly as he pounds into you, "when I'm fuckin' you, you keep your eyes on me." he snaps, squeezing your cheeks. "'s that clear?"
you nod in the mirror, whines getting louder as his name falls nearly incoherently from your lips- you see his lips ghost over your neck, the smirk that spreads over his pink lips as you finally get out a strangled, "Joelpleaseplease- s'close-"
he knows what you need; you and Joel are each other's best escape. he pistons into you hard, chasing your high as he feels it spasming close around him. "easy, huh?" he snarls, hips just as harsh as his words, eyes sharp on yours. "who's easy, baby - me, or the one beggin' like a slut to cum on my cock?"
for someone so quiet and closed off, Joel Miller has never shied away from using his goddamn words when he's fucking you, that's for sure. his words, his accent - they push you towards the edge and it almost distracts you from his question. his eyebrows raise in the silence as you gasp for words, moans choked as his fingers slide down from your jaw to squeeze your throat.
"look at'cha, can't even speak for me," he groans, his hand suddenly snaking down to smack your away from your clit; two larger, calloused fingers replace your shaky ones and you wail at the stimulation, almost too much.
you blink up at him through the mirror, unable to speak, unable to think as you feel the crest of something incredibly blissful growing; you let out a whine of ecstasy. "I'm- I'm easy," you concede, finally able to spit your words out, your voice higher than normal in your pleasure.
Joel nods, kissing your sweaty hairline, "'s goddamn right you are, babygirl," he hisses, "easy for me. this pretty little pussy is mine, isn't it?"
you scream, "yours, Joel-" before he barely finishes the sentence.
with your words, he smiles against your neck - the feeling of it sends goosebumps over your whole torso. "you're a lucky girl," he growls in your ear, teeth brushing the shell before licking it gently, "you can cum."
you barely realize you've hit your orgasm until you’re writhing - a white-hot, searing arousal streaking your vision as your eyes roll back. he fucks you steadily through your orgasm, your thighs closing slightly around his large palm, but his fingers don't stop their motions on your clit.
you shake and stutter for gasps as he pounds into you, chasing his own high that's been spurred - by your own words or the clenching of your orgasm around him, you're unsure.
"love how you feel-" he groans, voice weakening as he nears his own orgasm, hips sloppy as he pushes your face down, against the cool tile of the bathroom sink. "fuck, baby, made to take this cock."
his sentences are choppy, his gasps and grunts of pleasure mixing with the slap of your ass against him as he thrusts, your legs tired as he fills you full and then suddenly pulls out. you gasp at the suddenness of his absence, turning to look at him as if betrayed - but he looks completely gone, eyes dark with need. "gonna cum on your tits, sweetheart."
your stomach flips at the word - one he's never used before - and you relax into his harsh grip, moving down to the ground on your knees as he grunts, "take this shit off now."
his shirt is on the ground in half a second, your breasts bare to him as he fists his cock, eyes on you and lidded with pleasure. your hands fall onto his strong thighs, looking up at him in awe as he fists his cock, slick with your sticky spend, tip flushed and veins stretching over the shaft. "please, cum on me, want it so bad, Joel," you whine - his hand caresses your jaw and slips over your lips, sticking his thumb into your mouth. you suck eagerly and he moans your name deep, head tilting back in ecstasy.
"fuck," he grunts, slipping his thumb out of your mouth before you can even swirl your tongue around it, and then he's hitting his orgasm.
ropes of his cum land on your tits, a small bit gathering on your chin as he slows his hand, letting out a few sharp breaths. he's barely caught his breath before your fingers are gathering a swipe of his thick cum, bringing it to your mouth. his dark eyes follow you through his labored breaths as you slowly suck his spend off of your fingers, "fuckin'- pretty," he mumbles into his hand as he runs a palm over his face, shaking his head.
you smile, cheeks heating up. the sun is rising and the room is fully golden, bouncing off the mirror and illuminating his tan skin, the scars on his body and yours. he's pretty, you realize.
you tell him so, quietly - in the silence of the bathroom. his scowl softens and you swear you see a blush forming as he rolls his eyes down at you from where you perch on the linoleum.
Joel always says you only tell him sweet things to get him to fuck you - but in the afterglow of your actions, you catch sight of your makeup-stained pillowcase back in Joel's bedroom and it makes you grin. you know he doesn't wash it for a reason, the same reason you keep coming back to him.
and you also know that the way he smooths his thumb over your hairline, the way your own hands in turn soothe over his thighs - those actions, they make up for everything else that's unspoken.
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taglist: @satansgoatt @elissaaa @queerponcho @bbyanarchist @lapricot @umavvitch @asreadbyaj @dinsbaby @cottoncandytomu @onmytallesttiptoess @switchbladedreamz @missannwinchester @abs-2020 @afandomidiot @cosm1c-babe @rogersbarnesxx @carleenphillips-blog @bonnibuckets @nightlovechild @jazzyspasms @girlboybug @cannolighost @pastelnap @userpedros @feministfanboi @frogers @grhowls @daddy-din @gothoppered @totallynotastanacc @robbatlover @casssiopeia @wannab-urs @redhotkitchen @joelapologist2001 @silkiers
message me if i forgot to tag u. i was pretty lazy with this one sorry. requests are open.
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#joel miller x reader smut#joel miller smut#joel tlou smut#joel x reader smut#joel x reader#joel smut#joel tlou#tlou fanfiction#tlou spoilers#tlou hbo#the last of us smut#the last of us (tv)#the last of us x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal x reader
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Hi! Saw your Blue Lock request being open. Can I request for crush headcanons with Rin, Isagi and Kunigami(separately). How they act around their crush.
Rin Itoshi:
-Ah! No way his crush can understand what is going through that boy's mind.
-Rin just looks like his usual self on his worst days, so they may think it is just a bad period.
-More silent than usual, rude as always, he’ll just go to great lengths to avoid any physical contact.
-He understands he needs to make a move when his crush will start to frequent other people, people that won’t treat them like they have the plague.
-Usually in tv shows it ends up with them following the main protag like a good dog ‘till they confess their feeling and WOW he reciprocates them and it is all flowers and rainbows. Too bad that right now his life looks more like one of the horror movies he likes so much.
-He needs to move fast…
Yoichi Isagi:
-His only luck is that he has a football career he has to think of and a ton of friends or his mind would be filled with fake scenarios with his crush.
-Blush, stutter poor Yoichi can’t stay normal for a second when his crush gets near him.
-But he always searches for their contact!! Yoichi just say you like to embarrass yourself, you M!
-It’s clear to anybody (his parents included) that he has a crush on them.
-Yoichi's problem is that his crush is either too dense or too much of a tease to make the first move, so he’ll have to suffer ‘till he can’t wait anymore and makes the first move.
-If his crush doesn’t kiss him first…after all Yoichi is way too cute when embarrassed.
SPOILERS for Rensuke hcs
Rensuke Kunigami:
-Avoids them so much. After becoming the wild card it becomes really difficult to get near him as before.
-But even if his personality changed, his core is the same.
-It happens more often than not that one of their gestures warms Rensuke’s heart, but sick thoughts clog up his mind pretty fast and they leave a sour taste in his mind so the warm feelings disappear pretty fast.
-His crush must have strong willpower to stay next to him in this period of his life.
-It will take a long time of self-growth before Rensuke can go back to a more stable version of himself and accept their feelings.
-The real question is, are they going to wait for him?
#bllk imagines#blue lock imagines#bllk x reader#blue lock x reader#bllk headcanons#blue lock headcanons#rin itoshi#isagi yoichi#kunigami rensuke#rin itoshi x reader#isagi yoichi x reader#kunigami rensuke x reader
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Ummmmm well, maybe this time will be angst. Y/n can't take any more of the hate that Ollie's fans give her. They always say that Y/n is jinxing Ollie bcs he has been getting bad race results lately. There was even someone who said it directly in front of her face when she came to watch Ollie's race at Monza and Ollie also accidentally heard it and maybe started to get a little angry and protective bcs Y/n doesn't deserve any kind of hatred at all.
Then she finally decided to ask Ollie to break up bcs she started to believe that she is bringing bad luck to Ollie and she doesn't want that to happen to him as she knows how passionate Ollie about racing. But of course that's impossible to happen.
Ollie had already fallen too deep for Y/n. Y/n was his childhood friend who knew almost everything about him, she's so lowkey which makes him love her even more, the one who cheered him since he went karting, the one who always understood him, who always believed in him no matter what. She was everything to Ollie and mean more than racing or championship.
Maybe you can make him a little desperate (Idk why but I'd like to see him crying😭dramatic ass) when Y/n asks him for a break up like he was probably once having a thought about how his life without racing but never imagined his life without Y/n. And maybe he's lil furious that Y/n believed in those nonsenses and even now thinking of leaving him. And the rest are yours, Queen🧚🏼♀️
Some proooompts:
— "I just don't love you anymore."
"What?" .... "Look me in the eyes and say you don't love me anymore."
— "You need to focus on racing, not me."
— "I need you more than a fucking championship! I will call Rene right now and tell him that I quit."
— "You don't understand, you are performing less because of m-"
"No. You are the one who don't understand. Don't you dare to say you are the cause of my bad performances."
Ollie Bearman- Choices
a/n: OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS PROMPT ANON!!!!! I made ollie such a simp for y/n oh my lord… anyway this is somewhat of a continuation of this post… also i kinda got lazy at the end my bad
pairing: oliver bearman x childhoodfriend!reader
summary: you and ollie have a talk about your relationship that leads your relationship downhill.
warnings: cursing, tears, stressed y/n and stressed ollie
word count: 1,781
not my gif!
~
“Hey, can we talk?” You both knew you needed to have this conversation, but both of you avoided it like the plague.
When you accidentally went public with Ollie, everyone liked you. They thought you were a little on the quiet side but still sweet, and thought you and Ollie were a good match. You appeared in some of Ollie’s streams, adding funny commentary here and there and just hanging out with him. For the past year or so though, you’ve been getting more hateful comments and people have been ruder towards you.
You were never one to back down and stop what you were doing because someone was hating on you. You weren’t raised that way. If you were passionate about something, you did it all the way, not letting anything stop you. This time though, it was getting harder to ignore the bad stuff. People were constantly finding things to nitpick you for, saying how you “loved” Ollie and how you were just in it for the exposure and benefits, which was absolutely not the case. Though you expected interviewers asking about your private life, you never thought it would be this intrusive. Ollie had noticed the more hateful comments were getting to you and even put out a statement, but nothing worked. He’d been too busy racing and traveling to alleviate some of the anxiety you were feeling, so you thought this to be the best option:
Ending your relationship.
“Um, sure.” He said, hesitantly. The outcome of this conversation was not one he’d like. He couldn’t risk losing you. You were the one person that truly understood everything he did. He truly fell harder for you than you could ever possibly fathom, and even he himself couldn’t explain into words how special you were to him.
“I think we need to take a break.” The words came out slow and shaky, fear crawling its way through your words.
“W- what?”
“I just, I- I don’t have feelings for you anymore.” You cringed to yourself. You were completely lying to his face. And he could see it.
“Bullshit. Is this about what that article said the other day? I swear to God, I’ll find whoever wrote it and-”
“Ollie, stop.” Your voice was stern, scaring him a little bit.
It was about the article, but you didn’t want to cause any drama or bad press around him, having the media calling him a hothead and other terrible names they could come up with. So you opted to tell him that you didn’t love him anymore. That you “lost feelings” when you felt the complete opposite. You wanted nothing less than waking up next to him and his unruly hair, softly waking him up as you combed through his curls.
Which was exactly how Ollie was feeling, too. He never understood how much your daily checkups and silent support really meant to him, you asking him if he was alright when he was at his darkest, and being there for him during the height of his career. You were always there, a constant in his ever changing life.
“Don’t make this harder than it already is. Please. I just don’t love you anymore.” You fidgeted with your hands as you went to find your phone. You wanted this conversation to be cut and dry, but it wouldn’t turn out that way. He rushed in front of you and lifted your chin with his finger. You kept your gaze anywhere else but him.
“Look me in the eyes and say that again.”
The room was quiet, so tense that you could hear both of your shallow breaths. His eyes never left yours as you contemplated your answer.
“Ollie, your fans hate me. So does your team. It seems like you’re the only one that doesn’t.” You remembered one conversation where some woman came up to you and told it to your face.
“Hi. You’re Y/N, Ollie’s girlfriend, right?” Some lady asked when you were watching a few drivers qualify on the TV screens in Ollie’s garage.
“I am, yeah.”
“Let’s hope you leave before he starts qualifying.” She laughed lightly.
“Excuse me?”
“You’ve seen his quali position versus his starting one when you’re here, right? Oliver’s place always goes down a few positions.”
“Oh, well I don’t-”
“I think then I’m the problem, ma’am. My girlfriend’s not the one driving the car.” Ollie came up from behind you, putting his arm around you.
“Oh well. My apologies, then. Have a good one, Ollie.” The woman turned around and walked away.
“The hell was that about?”
“Dunno. She just came up to me and started talking.”
“If someone else says something like that to you, tell me and I’ll-”
“Ollie. Just focus on racing right now, okay?”
He threw his hands in the air. “Love, what are you-”
“Think about it. Ever since we got together, you’ve had bad race results. Your car’s been breaking down more often. For fuck’s sake, you almost died, Ollie! When we were just friends that never happened! And now,” You took a breath. “I’m just a distraction, okay? I-”
“How dare you fucking say that. You are not the cause of my bad performances, Y/N! I am!”
Tears started to form in his eyes. How could you say that about yourself? How could you ever think that? Not for a second did he think you were a distraction. All you ever did for him was make sure he was at his best. Sure, he was getting bad results recently, but you certainly weren’t the cause of it. Hell, you were keeping him focused on not crashing if anything.
“You need to focus on your championship and I need to focus on school.” You shoved past him, grabbing your keys from the counter.
“That’s what you’re worried about? A fucking championship, Y/N?!”
“Ollie, that’s your dream! You’ve wanted that since you were a kid! Why are you letting me get in the way of it?”
“I need you more than I want that stupid championship.”
Shaky breaths erupted from both of you. You knew he was right. He had told you that his priorities had changed. Then it hit you. Was that the reason he was performing so badly at races? Was he racing badly so he’d lose his contract and he’d finally be able to spend time with you?
After a few minutes you decided to leave. There was no way in hell that you were going to be the reason he lost his contract. Walking towards the door, you mentally checked if you had everything to stay the night elsewhere.
Ollie caught onto you, following after you. “No. No. Don’t leave. Please.” He grabbed onto your wrist, his eyes pleading you to stay. You’d never left after a fight, always wanting to work it out before you guys went to do something else. This time though, you felt like you had to.
“Just trust me, okay? I’ll be back.” Honestly, you weren’t sure if you were going to. You turned around, reaching for the doorknob, but Ollie was quick enough to slide in front of it.
“I will… I will call Rene right now and tell him that I quit, okay?” He pulled out his phone, hands shaking, and started to search for Rene’s number. “Just don’t…please stay.” Desperation was clear in his voice. As he found it, you scooted past him and slipped out the front door, speed-walking to your car.
“Baby, no. Please. Where are you going?” You heard him shout as you got into your car. You had left and he was unsure, for the first time, that you might not come back.
~
4 missed calls from ollie 🐻 💗
2 voicemails from ollie🐻 💗
Hi Y/N. Look, I need to… Just, just please call me back please. I want to work this out, okay? I love you.
Babe, please call me back. I’m getting worried. Just let me know you’re okay. Please. I love you.
You shut off your phone and sighed, laying back down on the bed, groaning.
“Still haven’t told him where you are?” Arthur’s voice made you jump, reminding you that you weren’t alone.
You shook your head. “No.” Arthur laid down next to you on your -his- bed. You had crashed at his house for the night, telling him what happened through broken sobs and tears.
“I know you don’t want to hear this right now, but I think you should tell Ollie where you are. Or just text him. The guy’s been worried sick, Y/N. He can’t sleep, eat. Even Jak can’t get him out of bed,” Arthur said.
Fuck, you thought.
~
You unlocked you and Ollie’s door for the first time in what felt like months. As you shut the door close, your eyes met Ollie’s brown ones. He was standing a few feet away from the door, his eyes wide open as he tried to figure out if you were actually standing in front of him. Tension in the room was off the charts.
Arthur was right, he looked terrible. Nothing in the apartment had changed since you left, with the exception of a few blankets strewn around the floor. Ollie rushed towards you, dropping whatever he was holding, it clattering to the floor as his arms snaked around your waist tightly. He was afraid if he let go of you a second time, you wouldn’t come back for certain. You felt his entire body relax against yours, as yours did the same. He burrowed his head into your neck, softly placing kisses on your skin.
“You came back.” His voice was deep and relieved.
“Momentarily.”
“What?”
“I’m gonna move out, Ollie.”
“What? No, you- you can’t.”
You got out of his grasp and hurried towards your room, and started to pack your things through your blurred vision.
“What’re you doing? Just stop.” He started to unpack the things you started to.
“This isn’t your decision to make, Ollie. Okay?!”
The room went quiet, the silence so deafening you swore you were alone. You pinched the bridge of your nose; you knew he didn’t deserve this. He was the one you always saw yourself with in the end. What happened?
Ollie walked over to you; he towered over you like he always did. “You’re really going then?”
You nodded. “I’ll have Arthur pick up the rest of my stuff.” You scratched the back of your neck. You didn’t know what else to say. You saw a tear drip to the floor as he nodded.
You picked up your stuff and led yourself out, Ollie following closely behind.
“Goodbye, Y/N.”
“Bye, Ollie.”
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Here's the Foreword from the Lockwood & Co Netflix Tie-in Edition. It's basically just The Screaming Staircase but this was also here from Mr Shroud Himself (under the cut):
'A girl and a boy knock at the door of a house in south-west London. It is a fairly modern house and they are wearing modern clothes, but they each have a rapier at their belt, and kitbags full of salt bombs and iron chains. They have come on professional business. They are there to destroy a ghost.
And that, when I sat down and wrote the first three pages of what became The Screaming Staircase, was pretty much all I knew. Who was this pair? Why were there no adults accompanying them? What was the horror that waited for them beyond the door? I didn't have a clue (most of my books start like this, with a single, improvised, scene). What I did know was that I wanted to write a ghost story, that children were going to be my heroes and that, when they came face to face with something nasty, I wanted it to be a fair fight.
The trouble with ghosts, traditionally, is that they hold all the cards. They are nebulous, ectoplasmic and difficult to destroy. They exert great powers of terror over the living. In most ghost stories they also hang out in remote and eerie locations, preying on solitary individuals - people whose greed, curiosity or plain bad luck makes them vulnerable to supernatural attention. In the classic tales of M. R. James, for instance, the victim is usually a bookish gentleman who has been poking his nose into old manuscripts or artefacts that don't concern him. Is it going to be an equal contest when the malevolent spirit shows up? No. You'd put your money on the phantom every time.
I love these traditions, and I certainly intended my ghosts to be scary - that was why I was writing the story in the first place. But I also wanted to shake things up a bit and give my characters a chance.
And so I decided to tweak the rules.
For starters, we'd have an epidemic of hauntings in Britain. Ghosts aren't just to be found lurking far off in creepy man- sions. They're everywhere, threatening death to anyone they touch, and adults can't see or hear them before it's too late. Only certain young people - like my two protagonists, Lucy Carlyle and Anthony Lockwood - have the psychic talents to deal with them. This is vital, but it's not enough to keep them alive.
So I gave them some proper equipment too. The spectral plague has spurred an industrial revolution in ghost-hunting techniques, and each agent goes into the night armed with decent weapons: salt bombs, silver nets, magnesium flares and rapiers of cold, sharp iron. That evens the score a little.
Next, and most importantly, I gave my heroes each other. From the moment I began this first scene, I knew that the relationship between Lucy and Lockwood (along with their friend George Cubbins) was going to be the beating heart of the story. I could hear the energy in their voices - I sensed their personalities, their rapport, their shared jokes. As I wrote my way into the book, I learned more about Lucy's courage, faithfulness and determination. Lockwood's self-conscious charisma was there from the start, as was his air of mystery (he would keep his deeper secrets a while longer). But their skills were complementary. Far from being isolated, they would pool their resources, and so make Lockwood & Co. a match for any Phantasm or Raw-bones that floated across their path.
Finally, I gave them 35 Portland Row: Lockwood's rambling townhouse in Marylebone. It's their home and headquarters. It's where they train, it's where they sleep; it's where they can sit around eating cakes at midnight without a Wraith creeping up to give them ghost-touch. In other words, it's a place of sanctuary - the vital counterpoint to all the haunted buildings they encounter, and in some ways almost a character in its own right.
One of the many triumphs of the Netflix series is its flawless recreation of Number 35, complete with its rapier racks, rows of masks and dusty tables piled with unpaid bills. It was an extraordinary feeling to visit the house on set in Ealing Studios, to walk up the steps, cross the iron line and step straight into Lockwood's hall.
For sheer impact, though, this was nothing compared to that breathless moment when I saw Ruby Stokes, Cameron Chapman and Ali Haji-Heshmati acting together for the first time. All at once, Lockwood, Lucy and George were standing there before me, living, breathing, showing precisely the right rackety camaraderie and charm. Seeing them gave me the same electric charge as when I wrote that initial scene, all those years before.
And, sure enough, this was a fabulous new beginning. together. Since then, I've watched a stunning TV series come Presided over by Joe Cornish and the brilliant production team at Complete Fiction, Lockwood & Co. conjures Lucy and Lockwood's world in all its horror, and its light. It's certainly got plenty of terrifying ghosts in it. But it's also got a lot of friendship, humour, love and loyalty - and these things more than match the darkness. It's why I was drawn to these heroes in the first place - and why I think you'll be happy to walk with them into the shadows too, no matter what is waiting for you there.'
Jonathan Shroud, June 2022
#this is so heartfelt man#worth the money just for that#lockwood and co#lockwood & co#l&co#anthony lockwood#lucy carlyle#george cubbins#george karim
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Please reblog this list of anons in order to participate in the event. For players with multiple characters, please only reblog these posts ONCE on your main character account and tag your other participating character accounts in the caption below in order to avoid spamming the dash with the reblogged M!A lists.
Remember to send out anons to other players participating too!
Rule #63: Muse has been physically transformed into the female version of themselves. The effect lasts for 72 hours.
Leather: Muse must wear a leash and collar, becoming extremely horny as a result. If another mun sends this off anon, the muse must be their character’s slave for the duration and do whatever they ask. The effect lasts for 48 hours.
Hate Fuck: Muse has this sudden and deep desire to fuck the person they hate the most or whoever anon specifies to be the target of the muse's newfound ire for them. Hey, passion is passion, whether it's loathing or loving. The effect lasts for 24 hours.
Role Reversal: Muse's personality becomes the complete opposite of how they usually are. Hard-working becomes lazy, a kind person becomes mean, someone patient would be short-tempered, good becomes evil, and so on. The effect lasts for 48 hours.
Roleplay: Muse is now dressed in a sexy costume and can’t remove it. This can be specified by the anon or chosen by the mun. The longer they are dressed that way the more they take on the persona of what they are dressed as. The effect lasts for 24 hours.
Take It Off: Muse takes off an article of clothing every time their name is said. They can’t put their clothing back on for one hour after removing it. The effect lasts for 24 hours.
Unlucky: Muse is plagued with some seriously bad luck. The effect lasts for 48 hours.
Weathervane Mood: Muse's emotions now dictate the weather around them. Feeling sad might cause dark clouds and a downpour, anger could create wild thunderstorms and winds, happiness would bring on sunny and warm days, etc. The effect lasts for 24 hours.
Say My Name: Muse will have a sudden orgasm every time someone says their name. The effect lasts for 48 hours.
Honest Abe: Muse is unable to tell lies and will be forced to speak the truth with any question they’re asked. The effect lasts for 24 hours.
Freaky Friday: Muse has swapped bodies with another character of anon’s choosing (both muns of the characters involved must agree to this FC swap before answering anon on the dash). The effect lasts for 48 hours.
Irresistible: There’s just something about the muse today. Anyone who comes across the muse will be unable to control themselves. No matter who they are or how they feel, they’ll be compelled to try to get some personal time with the muse. And it’s not for an interview. The effect lasts for 24 hours.
Bound: Muse will be physically chained/handcuffed to [anon decides] and can't break free until the spell ends. The effect lasts for 48 hours.
Mask Off: Oh no! Does your muse have a human disguise hiding their true form? Not any more! Any disguise hiding a supernatural’s true form is now broken with no way for the character to restore it until the spell ends. The effect lasts for 72 hours.
Bleeding Out: Anon specifies a sudden injury that can be anything from as minor as a paper cut to something more severe and life-threatening that manifests on the targeted muse's body. If anon doesn't specify an injury and the muse already possesses healed scars, those scars will rip open fresh as the day they were received. Muse will not die (even though they may feel like it) from these wounds and will heal back to normal once the spell ends. The effect lasts for 24 hours.
Body Mod: Muse has a specific physical trait changed, added, or removed by anon’s choice (eye color, height, scars, hair length or color, size, etc.). Anon can request anything as minor or as weird as they like. The effect lasts for 48 hours.
Spring Fever: Muse, regardless of their species, has been afflicted with the stereotypical symptoms of the common cold –– sneezing, coughing, congestion, runny/stuffy nose, chills, headache, fever, etc. Muse can only recover once the spell ends. The effect lasts for 24 hours.
Kinky Boots: Muse is now dressed in some sort of fetishwear (crossdressing, bondage gear, chastity devices, body harnesses, anything leather or latex or other material, etc.) either at the anon’s specification or left to the mun’s choosing and can’t remove it. The longer they are dressed this way the more aroused they’ll feel. The effect lasts for 72 hours.
Flesh: Muse is insatiably horny and sensitive as if their whole body has become an erogenous zone. They also crave rough sex (being thrown/throwing their partner against a wall, biting, scratching, etc.). May need repeated rounds until feeling satisfied. The effect lasts for 48 hours.
It’s Not the Midas Touch: Everyone that the muse touches will have a sudden (terribly timed) orgasm. Oops? The effect lasts for 24 hours.
Species Change: Muse now has all the traits and abilities of a different species specified by the sender. Unspecified can be left up to the receiver to decide at random. The effect lasts for 48 hours.
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Bad Luck
Maribat March - Prompt 5
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"Run, run! Go!" Tim's desperate voice rang out behind her, his hurried footsteps and the heavier ones of his brothers slapping the ground behind her. "I am!" She snapped back, their pilfered goods clutched to her chest as she pushed her legs to go faster.
The plan had been simple, in and out. Then it all went wrong when Jason and Dick just so happened to be at the small coffee shop all the way across Gotham from Wayne Manor. It seems that bad luck continued to plague her, despite the care and primping she provided for the deific embodiment of it.
"You can't run forever!" Jason yelled out, keeping pace with the two coffee-addicts easily despite his much larger stature. "Bullshit!" Tim called back, catching up with Marinette and gesturing to an alley up ahead. Of course! There was an alcove they had discovered on patrol, perfect for hiding with 'banned' caffeine.
They darted around the corner, pressing themselves to the wall as flat as they could (not very hard considering they both lean more toward the lithe, wiry side of the athleticism spectrum).
"Shit! Where'd they go?" Jason cursed, pausing in the mouth of the alleyway, eyes skimming right over Tim and Marinette's hiding spot. "Maybe they got to the roof?" Dick asked, joining Jason in scanning for the two. "In the five seconds it took for us to catch up? Nah." Jason started to stalk into the alley, eyes once again skipping right over them. "What if M transformed?" Dick asked, right behind Jason, checking behind a dumpster. Tim was hardly breathing, his chest pressed up against her back. Marinette could feel herself mimicking him.
"Are you stupid? There's that obnoxious flash of neon light when she does that. No, they're still here." Jason answered, getting ever closer to the two teenagers. Marinette's thoughts were whirling a mile a minute, desperately trying to find a way out of their perilous situation, but dammit, she's going on four days without sleep, and her mind was sluggish. That's what the coffee, the holy coffee, nectar of the gods was for. But in their rush to avoid their cruel sleep wardens, they hadn't had the chance to consume the sweet, sweet caffeine. Marinette couldn't see a way out of this. They could only hope that the two men continued to miss them. That hope was looking more and more fruitless as they drew closer, eyes darting to every shadow that moves.
Marinette could practically hear Tim running out of ideas as fast as she was. She could feel his panic as strongly as her own. There's no way out.
"Found you." Jason sung, standing in front of their alcove with his arms crossed. Dick was next to him, the disappointed look on his face a sharp contrast to Jason's smug one.
Shit. Stupid bad luck.
#batman fanfiction#miraculous fanfiction#mlb x dc#maribat#maribat march 2024#timari#but it doesn't have to be#marinette dupain cheng#tim drake#jason todd#dick grayson#coffee heist
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Part 21 - Sherlock
Masterlist
Series Masterlist
Part 20 -- Part 22
Pairing: Sherlock x ofc
Summary: The guys throw a New Years Eve party at 179th Crescent Street...
Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI, oral (f and m receiving), p-in-v sex.
Word count: 4.2k
A/N: Well, well, well... It's our beloved darling Sherlock. What else is there to say?
Let me know what you think! 🥰
@deandoesthingstome @geralts-yenn @summersong69 @peaches1958 @fvckinghenrycavill @keanureevesisbae @livisss @sillyrabbit81 @ellethespaceunicorn @ylva-syverson @poledancingdinos
"Can we just skip the party?" Elena asks when I kiss my way up her body again. "And then you can keep doing that all night?"
"That would be rather unfair, don't you think?" She looks up at me innocently and shakes her head. I can't help but laugh - she's not wrong. I could spend all night going down on her and be perfectly happy about it, but I've secretly been dying for her to return the favour. Despite my curiosity, I am plagued by nerves. It has been a mere two weeks since we first kissed, and things have been happening rather quickly since then. I find my mind in a constant battle between new desires and my need to process all that has been going on.
"Then maybe it's time for me to repay you?" I hardly think any type of guardian angel would be looking out for me in this particular way, so I'll have to go with either dumb luck or a natural progression of things. I hope the latter, I'm not overly fond of relying on things such as luck. Elena's hands are already wandering. Her long, slender fingers dip underneath the waistband of my trousers, and my breath catches in my throat. There is no doubt in my mind about what she is about to do, and I want her to - but I also want to stop her, put my shirt back on, and run. She senses my hesitation and smiles. “You’re not ready for this.” It isn’t a question, which I greatly appreciate. Had it been a question, I might have lied - and lying isn’t generally something I tend to enter into.
“Have you seen my shirt?” I ask, slightly annoyed. Why can’t I find the darn thing?
“I have.” The innocence in her voice means nothing good, that much I’ve learned in the past two weeks. As soon as I look up, I sigh. The good news is that I have found my shirt. The bad news is that Elena is wearing it, which means she will have to take it off. I am fairly sure I’ve said ‘we need to get dressed’ four times in the past hour. Needless to say; It did not work.
“We can’t keep doing this,” I warn as she walks over to me. Logically, if what I said is true, and we indeed cannot keep doing this, then I should be doing something to make sure we will not, in fact, keep doing it. The only problem is that I seem to be firmly glued to the edge of my bed, where I am currently sitting, and nothing about me seems inclined or able to move. That leaves us with only one other solution: What I said was not true, and we can - and likely will - keep doing what we were doing before. And I cannot say that I am in any way, shape or form likely to complain about that situation.
Elena slowly stalks towards me while opening the buttons of my shirt - one by one, until it falls open and she is standing right in front of me with a leg on either side of mine. It’s far too difficult to keep my hands to myself. As if by magic - though I wouldn’t rule out demonic possession at this point - they hook behind her knees and pull her in until her knees are next to my hips and my lips are pressed to the soft skin of her stomach. With my hands on her hips, I urge her to sit down on my lap so I can kiss her. As soon as my lips touch hers, she moans loudly. The sound is exquisite as always, succeeding every single time in turning my insides liquid and my knees weak. This woman has me wrapped entirely around her finger, and I suspect she is more than aware of this fact - though I feel she does try her hardest not to exploit it too much. I answer to the sound with a low growl. It escapes me - I’m more than aware that it only fuels her desires, but I cannot seem to help myself. It’s odd. Resisting these urges was never a problem before. Sometimes, I fear she has bewitched me. It wouldn’t be logical, but neither is the fact that I still seem to have regained no control whatsoever over my emotions and desires.
Her tongue explores my mouth, and mine hers, as they have done countless times - it’s almost impressive, considering I had never done this before a mere three weeks ago. Behind Elena’s efforts glints a sliver of impatience, an innate pressure from within to further our endeavours. A hunger. Lust. It’s evident in the motions of her lips against mine, and the travelling of her hands over my upper body, where she claws at my shoulders and softly traces my spine. With great reluctance, I break the kiss.
“Darling, would you stop that?” She shakes her head briefly in reply. Of course she will not. She is more than aware of the effect her touch has on me, especially in this particular way, and her eyes reveal that she relishes my responses.
“I want you,” she says softly. The phrase itself - or even the tone in which she says it - shouldn’t be particularly arousing to me, but my body once again betrays my mind, as is so often the case in situations that involve Elena. She knows I hate the tone she takes with me. It makes me shiver, and it causes my cock to twitch in my pants. Elena grinds her hips on mine, and I groan in reply. She’s naked - and wet - and making a mess of my trousers. It’s only a matter of time now before one of my friends comes knocking to see where we are.
“We have to get dressed and go downstairs, Elena.” Now if only I could say that in a tone that sounded in any way convincing. The simplest truth is that I want precisely what she wants - but not like this. And I have to tell her that before the divine feeling of those lips on my neck robs me of my ability to think.
“Not like this, love,” I whisper. My breath catches in my throat, and as is so often the case when I’m with her, I speak without thinking. “Tonight.”
We make our way downstairs, where we can hear Marshall’s voice in the hallway. He sounds annoyed - he has hardly been himself lately, and none of us know why that is. It’s rather curious, to say the very least. Not that he is generally particularly sunny, but his recent demeanor suggests something is the matter with him.
“Listen, you’re not the only people on the planet. Get a fucking room.” Elena looks at me as she tightens her grip on my hand. She raises her eyebrows inquisitively, but all I can do is shrug. I know exactly as much about this situation as she does.
“Marshall, go find yourself someone to suck your dick, and leave us alone.” That is clearly the sound of Danielle’s voice. At the bottom of the stairs, she and Mike are engaged in a display of affection that is slightly inappropriate for a communal area, but they don’t seem to care much. I normally would, but something about the way Elena holds on to me tells me that I will struggle to maintain decorum before the night is out, as well.
August and Anjelica are the first familiar faces we encounter in the already crowded kitchen.
“I didn’t think the two of you would make it down here at all,” August says with a suggestive smirk. “Wine?” The offer is primarily for Elena, and she accepts gratefully. Moments later, I, too, am handed a glass.
“Thank you,” I mutter. The kitchen is quite loud, thus my words will largely be inaudible. Knowing August, however, the accompanying nod will suffice as an answer. August is holding Anjelica close, and I can see why. It looks as though she has been crying - which would hardly be strange, seeing as she’s an incredible perfectionist with absolutely no sense of self-preservation. She has that in common with Elena - with whom she gets along remarkably well.
“Should I be glad Elena gets along with Anjelica so well?” I ask August, who is obviously paying as little attention to the conversation the girls are engaged in as I am.
“Oh, we don’t get a say in these things.” Geralt emerges from God knows where, and Solveig joins Anjelica and Elena in their chatter. This would be the time for any man to give up on trying to keep up with their conversation. It is simply a feat that far exceeds our capabilities. “I’m fairly sure we’re already doomed.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, confusion clearly laid out in my voice as I raise an eyebrow inquisitively. Surely it can’t be that terrible?
“I heard,” Geralt answers, stressing that we didn’t get this information from him, which is his way of letting us know that he came by this knowledge through his sensitive hearing. It also means he considers what we’re currently doing gossiping - a practice he generally despises, and I can’t help but agree. “That they’re planning a girls night.” That hardly sounds like a very large problem, but perhaps my limited experience with relationships has left me without some important information on the subject.
“That usually means that all of them are going to be told every minute intimate detail of your relationship, so they can… I don’t know why they do it, just that they do.” I silently thank August for supplying this information, but it also raises several concerns.
“How intimate?” I inquire, trying hard to keep surprise and dread away from both my voice and face. Judging from the way August smirks back at me, I don’t succeed.
“Yes, that intimate,” Geralt says - though ‘snarl’ might be a more apt description of the sound he makes.
“We’re not looking forward to it, either,” August reassures me as he lays a hand on my shoulder. I can’t say I’m thrilled at the prospect of having all these girls know the most intimate details of my relationship, but thanks to my lack of experience with these things, I can’t say I’m overly worried about it, either.
“Not looking forward to what?” Elena joins me again and wraps her arms around me.
“Nothing.” The girls seem to think nothing of the fact that the three of us grunt the word in unison - but looks can be deceiving, especially when one deals with women.
Charles seems to have invited half of the university - which isn’t a problem, merely an inconvenience, as I’m not quite fond of people, and there are a lot of them in my house right now - and I find myself in quite the conundrum. Leaving the party without being seen is utterly impossible, and I’m uncharacteristically concerned with what people will think if I leave now, but I also can’t quite spend another minute here - and it isn't even midnight yet.
I feel Elena's arm around my waist as she leans into me.
"Do you want to get out of here?" she asks coyly. I couldn't put into words my desire to say yes if my life depended on it, but despite the overwhelming urge, I say nothing. She takes my hand in hers and pulls me along, and with every step my surroundings blur until the only thing I see is her.
Every next step up the stairs is harder than the last. I will my feet to move, but when the door to my room - or rather: the door that leads to the stairs that lead up to my room - closes, I no longer seem to be able to lift them.
“I’d love to hear it,” Elena says suddenly. Whatever is she talking about? My confusion must be evident from my expression, because she continues her query: “The no doubt incredibly logical reasoning behind your doubts. And everything else that’s going on in that beautiful brain of yours.” Her hands feel so soft against my cheek, that I involuntarily let out a sigh. Elena all but drags me up the stairs to my room - after making sure to lock the door, that is - and towards my bed. As I drop myself down onto the mattress, a sound of utter exasperation escapes me.
“Talk to me,” she says as she joins me on the bed, climbing over me in the process, before nestling into my side. She lays her head on my chest, and I weave a hand into her hair. I have found it is something I find comforting. We lay there for a moment before she repeats her question. She has no other choice: I was rather disinclined to answer it. If I’m being quite honest, I still am. Elena senses my reluctance and scoffs. “Come on. When an eighteen year old guy has a horny girl in his bed and doesn’t want to fuck, something’s usually going on.”
“That is a wildly incorrect statement.” I say plainly. She looks at me in utter bewilderment, which leads me to chuckle. “You are operating under the assumption that I don’t want to… very well… fuck. You are wrong.”
“Well, then, allow me to amend my statement: When an eighteen year old guy has a horny girl in his bed and wants to fuck her, but doesn’t, something’s going on.”
“Alright, that is an acceptable observation.” Perhaps it is unfair of me to circumvent her implicit question, but I feel uncomfortable, and I technically haven’t been asked anything. Therefore, I will not answer the question I have not been asked.
“Well, what is it?” Oh, bother.
"I told you I needed time to process all that was happening," I answer, knowing it will not satisfy Elena's relentless curiosity.
"I remember. Continue."
"Now, I feel like I have to wait." I say softly. "The truth is that I don't think I need much - or any - time at all. I want you, Elena. All of you."
"We already knew your mind processes things quickly," she jokes.
"That's just it, darling. I haven't even begun to process these emotions. I simply can't figure out how. Yet it feels so incredibly natural." Feelings. If someone had offered me three weeks ago the opportunity to do away with them altogether, I would have taken it. Now, I cannot say I would. I am far from done with exploring the feelings I have for her - and what little I know of them yet, is far too precious to me.
"We can wait until next year," she says as she grins up at me.
"Clever girl," I chuckle. "I think we might." I also like to think that, despite the novelty of the event, we won't manage before next year. Or rather; it would sorely bruise my ego, otherwise, seeing as we're a mere ten minutes away.
She's working on the fourth button of my shirt by the time I even notice she's undressing me. I recently developed the theory that she does this just to see how far she can get before I catch her - she gladly confirmed my suspicions when I brought it up. I'm also quite happy to find that she is rather good at it, though tonight is one of those nights where I will allow myself a little less patience than usual. She smiles when I pull my shirt over my head and immediately attempt to rid her of her blouse.
"Are you trying to get me naked?" she teases. I can't help but roll my eyes at her utterly redundant question.
"No, I'm baking biscuits," I retort. It's not a clever reply, but I'm not overly concerned with coming across as especially witty right now. All I want is to feel the warmth of her skin against mine.
"Before any more clothes come off," she says quickly as she - much to my dismay - wrestles herself away from the kiss we were engulfed in, "I want you to know I'm not currently on any birth control, so we'll have to use con- Sherlock! I'm trying to talk to you!"
"I'm trying to kiss you!"
"And I will let you, after we have a very mature conversation about birth control," Elena laughs.
"Pardon my ignorance, but what is there to talk about? What methods of contraception you use hardly concerns me. I won't pretend to have any say in the matter, it's your body we're talking about, after all." She kisses me fiercely, so I can only assume I said something to deserve it, though I can't for the life of me think of what that would have been.
My next attempt to take her blouse off isn’t met with any resistance, and I sigh deeply when the fabric falls away to reveal her gorgeous body. I sincerely doubt I’ll ever get used to the sight. She squints when it only takes me one try to open the clasp of her bra.
“I don’t like that you know how to do that already,” she says, pulling her lips into a pout that makes me think several unholy things at once.
“You weren’t so bothered by my efficiency this afternoon,” I remind her. Much to my surprise, she hadn’t been asking me to stop yet after four consecutive orgasms. She chuckles - a delightful sound that turns into a moan when I kiss her neck. My hands roam her body, impatiently following a downward trajectory. Never in my life have I been so thoroughly annoyed by a pair of jeans. My agitation clearly interferes with my dexterity - so much so that Elena barely suppresses a fit of laughter before helping me.
I'm not quite sure what happens next, but in only a short moment, I find her on top of me. For a brief instance, I allow myself to relish the weight of her body on mine - it feels good, but I couldn't begin to explain why.
"Do you have condoms?" She asks suddenly, and I nod as I quietly thank Geralt for insisting I take them. "Good." Her lips are on mine only for a second, then they're off again, brushing over the skin of my neck, descending further every time they touch my body again. This time, I find that I am not quite as nervous as before - not that I’m given much time to be.
Her hands work much quicker than mine once again, but I never get the impression she is rushing. I wish she would. These past two weeks have led me to wonder whether I am as patient as I always thought myself to be. Perhaps I am simply rather good at feigning composure. I find myself longing for her touch so much that it doesn’t startle me. In fact, I feel what I would most easily describe as a sense of relief when her hand wraps around my erection, my face and voice acting entirely of their own accord in accompaniment. My back arches off the mattress the first time Elena's tongue touches my cock. God, that feels amazing. The view is rather phenomenal, too. Sensations and emotions mix in my brain until I can no longer figure out where one ends and the next begins.
"Fuck," I groan under my breath as she moves her head up and down. Every time she goes down, she takes more of me into her mouth. There's a determination in her eyes that inflates my ego - apparently there's a degree of difficulty involved here that I didn't know existed. It becomes impossible to hold back my moans as she keeps going down until she finally gags. I'm fairly certain my first thoughts regarding this should be to see if Elena is quite alright. Instead, my mind is consumed by one thought, and one thought only: 'Do that again.'
"Oh," she says, abandoning her ministrations and crawling up until she straddles my hips, "my baby has a dark side."
"Please tell me I didn't say that out loud," I groan, but the grin on her face tells me everything I need to know.
"You did," she says, the grin widening as she leans in to take my bottom lip in between her teeth. The sensation caused by her teeth scraping the soft flesh sends chills down my spine. "I like it. I want you inside of me, now."
"Technically, I was inside of you just now," I reply without thinking, "can't we go back to that?"
Elena playfully slaps my arm and laughs while she rummages around in the drawer of my nightstand until she finds what she's looking for.
Luckily, she takes charge of putting the condom on. I don't have any hands-on experience, and… My thoughts are disturbed as a loud thud sounds from downstairs, followed by laughter that unmistakably comes from Mike and Danielle.
"Why?" I whine when I see Elena's face morph into a pained expression as she attempts to choke back laughter.
"What were they do-"
"No!" I interrupt, "I don't care about what they were doing! Really. Not one bit. I care - deeply, I might add - about what we were doing, and I'd like to keep doing it. Please." Yes, I am begging her, and I honestly couldn't care less at this time. I need her.
"Care deeply, huh?" She lightly trails her slender fingers over my chest, fingernails scratching my skin lightly, every path feeling like a million tiny flames erupt on my skin in the wake of her touch. "Tell me what you want."
"A minute ago you couldn't wait to jump me, now you're trying to make me beg for it," I growl. The faint hint of aggression in my own voice surprises me. "I want you to stop toying with me."
Elena swallows hard and bows her head. I lift her chin and pull her in for a kiss while she slowly sinks down onto my cock. Neither of us bother with trying to keep quiet. It is both impossible and undesirable at this time. The tight warmth of her body surrounding me inhibits my ability to think clearly, but it is immediately obvious to me that I likely won't last very long. My suspicions are confirmed when she starts moving - slowly at first, but increasing her pace after only a few short moments. Half of my moans get caught in my throat - thank goodness. In the back of my mind, I hear her moan. The noise is faint: I can't say I'm particularly occupied with it over my own experience. It isn’t that I am unwilling to take note of her pleasure, it’s simply that I find myself once again overwhelmed by new, and thus unfamiliar sensations. They’re not unpleasant - in fact, they are far from unpleasant. I’d happily agree to a description that is more along the lines of ‘phenomenal’. Elena never stops moving as she takes my face in her hands.
"Don't hold back," she pleads, "I want to hear you enjoy this." I can’t say whether it’s the sound of her voice, the look in her eyes, or just the timing, but it's advice I'll have to remember for next time.
"Logically, I knew there was a very decent chance this would happen," I mutter while Elena climbs off of me and nestles into my side, "but I still feel the need to apologise."
"Don't," she sighs, "I simply won't accept it." At this point, I am far too worn out to argue, so I opt to look at her until she elaborates, instead.
"You did nothing wrong, there is nothing to apologise for. Therefore, you would be apologising without a cause, which makes the apology meaningless, thus inherently insincere, which is not something I can accept." I would say I hate it when she uses logic against me, but it would be a blatant lie. In fact, I find it incredibly attractive.
Elena gives me a moment before taking my hand and dragging me out of bed, throwing on as little clothes as needed to be appropriate enough for the inconvenient yet very necessary trip downstairs. I silently curse the location of my room and the fact that I now have to navigate these infernal stairs in my current intoxicated state. Elena, on the other hand, seems rather unbothered by any desire for secrecy.
“They won’t care, Sherlock,” she reassures me as she makes her way downstairs in a rather casual fashion. She’s right, of course, I know she is. Unfortunately, that doesn’t prevent me from feeling a form of inexplicable shame regarding the current situation. No matter how hard I try, I cannot seem to find a logical explanation for the unwelcome feeling. I should be used to the indecipherability of certain emotions by now, but alas. It isn’t until I am once again in my bed, holding Elena securely in my arms, that the feeling slowly fades as I fall asleep.
#179cs#179 crescent street#henry cavill characters#henrycavill fanfic#henry cavill fanfiction#henry cavill sherlock holmes#sherlock x ofc#sherlock holmes x ofc#179cs21
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The Official Root Recap!!
In honor of starting to play with the Root family again, it's time for a bit of a recap!
Meghan was the founder, a clumsy chef with big dreams... If she could make it through cooking without her food bursting into flames. She was made for the Unlucky Chef scenario and was the perfect fit for it, plagued by bad luck in the kitchen so bad that her savings took a hit with every meal.
She met Ulrike Faust at the Humor & Hijinks festival and after being friends for a while they eventually started dating. However, Ulrike wasn't quick to commit to a serious relationship, but eventually the duo managed to work things out and got married.
Not long after, they had their son, Emmett Root, our heir, by the power of s i m s m a g i c. He looked like a clone of Ulrike with Meghan's bad eyesight.
Finally, after years of hard work, Meghan reached the top of the culinary career, thus completing the scenario and her generation!
She, Ulrike, and Emmett then led a happy life together until Ulrike and her passed away on the same day, their graves left at their favorite lake house rental in Granite Falls where the family made many happy memories.
[1/3]
#I missed them so much!!#I can't wait to get back to playing this family!!#😆😆#sims 4#sims 4 story#sims 4 screenshots#sims 4 gameplay#sims 4 scenarios#ts4#ts4 story#ts4 screenshots#ts4 gameplay#ts4 scenarios#simblr#unlucky chef#meghan root#ulrike faust#emmett root#Root Recap#root family extras#long post#tw long post#tw pregnancy#tw death mention
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School Slut
Dean drops by Stanford to visit Sam, only to hear some unexpected rumors about his little brother.
Warnings: Public sex, group sex, descriptions of both gay and straight sex, a little bit of spanking, undertones of dom/sub, underage drinking. Some of the consent in this is really dubious because of excessive alcohol and terrible communication, but everyone is fine in the end. This story contains wincest.
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Stanford was… okay.
Kind of a dump, Dean decided as he walked through campus, hands in his jacket pockets. Yeah, pretty dumpy. Sure, it had a couple nice-looking buildings, but most of them… okay, actually most of them were pretty nice-looking. And the campus was pretty clean. And full of pretty people. All chatting with their pretty friends and going to classes to learn things.
Boring things, probably.
Dean didn’t understand why Sam wanted to be here. But hey, he wasn’t about to let this totally dumpy campus discourage him from visiting his little brother. Sam had been here for almost a year now, he must miss his big bro.
Dean was hoping to surprise Sam. Unfortunately, that meant he had no idea where to find him.
A pretty girl was sitting on a bench next to a nice-looking building in front of a nice-looking stretch of grass, reading a textbook that was probably full of boring class stuff. Dean smirked. Not a bad place to start. He walked over to the girl and smiled when she glanced up at him.
“Hey,” she offered cheerfully, brushing blond hair out of her eyes.
Dean gave her his most winning smile. “Hey. You wouldn’t happen to know a Sam Winchester, would you?”
For a moment the girl just blinked at him like he was asking what color the sky was. Then she snorted. “Uh… yeah I know Sam Winchester.”
“Great! Do you know where I can find him?”
The girl kept giggling, clearly trying to hide it and doing a very poor job. “Uh, no, I don’t know him that well.”
Dean’s eyebrows pursed as the girl continued to chuckle. “Uh… okay. Thanks. You’ve been… very helpful.”
“Sure, sure.” The girl turned back to her reading as Dean started to turn away. “ … Just read the bathroom stalls if you wanna find him.”
Dean turned back around. “What?”
“Nothing.” The girl brushed her hair out of her eyes, still chuckling. “I’m sure you’ll find him. Just ask around.”
Dean gave the girl one more perplexed look before walking away.
—-
The next person Dean asked was a guy that he caught at a drinking fountain.
“Hey, do you know Sam Winchester?”
“Sam?” The guy straightened up and wiped a hand across his mouth. “You mean Slutty Sam?”
Dean veered away from the guy like he’d just confessed to having the plague. The words bounced around Dean’s mind like some alien language.
S l u t t y S a m.
It didn’t compute. The term was self-contradictory. Dorky, prudish Sam and sex just didn’t go together. Dean cleared his throat, trying to collect himself. “Uh… no, probably a different Sam. Maybe… Nerdy Sam or Gigantic Sam.”
The guy held his hand up a couple inches above his head. “About this tall?”
“Yeah.”
“Kinda shaggy hair?”
Dean swallowed. There was a growing apprehension in the pit of his stomach. “ … Yeah.”
“Really smart, right?”
Dean shook his head, his face a little pale. “Nope, he’s dumb as nails, must be a different Sam. Definitely a different Sam.”
“Oh.” The guy shrugged. “Well, I only know Slutty Sam, so good luck finding your other Sam.”
“Yeah. Sure.”
As soon as the guy walked away, Dean bent over the drinking fountain and took a long, long drink of ice cold water.
—-
“Oh, you mean Slutty Sam?”
Dean licked his dry lips and did his best not to look like he was slowly losing his mind. “ … Yeah. Sure. That one.”
The girl he was speaking to nudged her friend. “Hey, haven’t you got physics with him?”
The other girl smirked. “Yeah, he sits in front of me. Sometimes I count his hickeys when – ”
“Whoa, okay.” Dean rubbed a hand over his forehead. “So you’re telling me that this Sam – Sam Winchester – gets laid a lot?”
Dean couldn’t reconcile the image of his dorky, gangly little brother getting it on with even one chick, let alone enough to earn him the title Slutty Sam.
Wow, those words felt weird even in his head.
One of the girls just burst into laughter at Dean’s question. The other did her best to answer Dean without joining her friend in incoherence.
“I swear, I don’t know how he manages to keep his GPA so high! You’d think he wouldn’t even have time to study with all the cock he – ”
“Right, thanks, I’ll just be – ” Dean’s throat constricted. “Wait, cock?”
“Yeah, you didn’t know? It’s a wonder that kid can still sit down after – ”
“Okay, thank you, very vivid!” Dean interrupted, holding up his hands. The images his mind was conjuring up were more than he could handle right now.
The girl gave him a knowing smile. “Hey, if you want a turn with him, you can find his number on most of the bathroom stalls. You look like you’d be his type, I’m sure he’d – ”
“I’m his brother,” Dean blurted, trying not to breathe too heavily.
The girl’s smile vanished and she blinked. “ … Oh. Oh. Um. Very sorry for being so. Um.” She tugged on her friend’s arm and took a step back. “ … Sorry.”
Dean rubbed a hand over his forehead. Fuck, he was sweating. He hoped his face wasn’t red. “It’s fine, it’s… I’m sure I’ll find him eventually.”
The girl who had been laughing was only laughing harder now, but the other one seemed uncomfortable. “He’s… a very good student?” she offered.
“Yeah, I know. I mean… thanks for trying.”
—-
It was a really, really bad idea. But Dean had drunk a lot of water at that fountain earlier and it seemed dumb to flee campus just to take a piss.
He walked into one of the campus bathrooms with a feeling of deep apprehension. He had to steel himself before glancing into the first stall.
Prof brady is a bitch
… That’s all that was written on the walls. Dean let out a tense sigh. He hesitated there for almost a full minute, drumming his fingers against the pale blue, green-flecked plastic divider. Then he flung open the next stall with unnecessary violence.
Nothing. Clean walls.
Dean took a deep, shuddering breath. This was a terrible idea. He didn’t want to see his little brother’s name written on a bathroom stall like a… a…
Like a slut.
He told himself that, but then he flung open the next stall door.
but are we even nematodes
… Fucking college kids. Dean snorted and opened the next stall without thinking. And froze when he saw a number. And writing. Dean clenched and unclenched his fists a few times, his heart thumping. Slowly, inevitably, he walked into the stall as if drawn by some invisible force. The writing was thin pencil, scraped over the rough plastic –
For a nice tight ass, call –
Dean tore his eyes away, breathing hard. Something in the pit of his stomach told him that was Sam’s number. His eyes darted guiltily back up to the writing.
… Fuck. Him. That looked an awful lot like Sam’s number.
Nice tight ass.
Dean’s heart was pounding. To his absolute horror, his cock gave a little twitch.
But it had absolutely nothing to do with his little brother. Hell, this was just a number scribbled on a wall below the words nice tight ass. Dean had felt a nice tight ass squeezing around his dick before, so it was only rational that the words would conjure up some memories. Memories a pretty girl bent over with his hand tangled in her long hair, his other hand grabbing the full curve of her hip as his cock pumped in her and she moaned for more –
Dean shook his head, blinking until the plastic dividers and cold tiles of the bathroom stall swum back into focus.
He could have used any other stall. But somehow Dean found himself reaching back and pulling the stall door shut so he could use this one.
He almost didn’t see the blue pen writing on the inside of the door, but he froze when he registered the words.
Slutty Sam choked on my dick here
Dean forgot how to breathe, staring at those scribbled words like his life depended on it. When he finally tore his eyes away, he ended up looking at the grimy tile floor.
His little brother had kneeled on that grimy tile floor and sucked some guy’s cock.
Dean stormed out of the stall and slammed the door behind himself so hard it shook the whole divider. He stomped past the sinks and wrenched the door open, startling a student who was reaching for it.
“Whoops, sorry – ”
“Fuck off, you probably fucked my brother too,” Dean snarled, shoving past the wide-eyed man and storming away.
—-
Dean thought about just calling Sam and to let him know that he was on campus. But he’d been so determined to surprise Sam with a visit. So, against Dean’s better judgement, he continued to ask around.
“I don’t want to know if you slept with him, I just want to know where his dorm is.”
The redhaired girl that Dean was speaking to gave him a knowing wink. “Ah, I getcha. His dorm, huh?”
“No, I just – ” Dean ground his hands over his eyes. “Jesus christ, just tell me where he lives.”
“Sorry, I don’t know. But you could ask the basketball team.”
“Why would – ” Dean’s stomach dropped. “ … Why would they know.”
“Dunno. I hear he fucked all of them.”
Dean swallowed and managed to squeak out, “Women’s or men’s team?”
The girl opened her mouth to answer, then paused thoughtfully. “You know… I don’t know that he hasn’t slept with the women’s team… ”
“ … Right. Men’s team, then,” Dean choked. His voice didn’t sound like his own. “Um. Thanks. I’ll just… ask them.”
“Sure. Good luck.”
Dean started turning to leave, but stopped himself and blurted, “Is the entire basketball team gay?”
The girl frowned. “Nah, I don’t think so. I mean, Steve definitely is, but I know Randy and Tom have had girlfriends so – ”
“Right, forget I asked. I’ll… I’ll find him somehow.”
—-
Dean had no intention of talking to one of the basketball players who had fucked his little brother. But when he realized he was passing the gym and heard the thump of basketballs on a polished wooden floor… well, he didn’t have any other leads.
Dean managed to catch one of the players as he was taking a water break. The guy was tall, easily taller than Dean, and absolutely corded in muscle. His jersey stuck to his chest with sweat.
Gross. Dean had no clue why Sam or anyone at all ever would be into that.
“So. Sam Winchester.”
The basketball player frowned down at Dean. “Hey, it’s not gay if you only do it once.”
Dean rubbed a hand over his eyes wearily. “Great, so you did sleep with him.”
“Naaah, I’d hardly call it ‘sleeping with’ him. I just, you know, used what he was offering.”
Dean twitched. “Used?”
“All the guys were doing it. If you’d seen him you would have understood.”
Dean cracked his knuckles slowly. “He’d better have been into this.”
The guy held his hands up with a grin. “Oh, he was way into it. God, I’d heard the kid was a slut, but I’ve never seen so much enthusiasm for – ”
“Yeah, okay, just how many of you are actually gay?” Dean snapped in exasperation. He could almost handle his little brother getting a lot of tail, but his little brother having magical heterosexuality-defying powers was a step too far.
“Steve and Brad are gay. Not with each other. … I don’t think.”
“But you all slept with Sam?”
The basketball player held a finger up. “Fucked him, not slept with him! And no, a bunch of guys left. It was more like… half the team fucked him.” A rolling ball bumped the player’s foot and he picked it up and tossed it back onto the court before continuing. “ … Sam came in after a game and started getting with Brad. All kissing and grabbing at each other.” He held up a finger again. “That was gay.”
“Unlike you,” Dean confirmed dryly.
“Exactly. I was all gonna tell them to get a room if they were gonna be like that, but Brad just bent him over one of the benches and started fingering him. Right there in the locker room! And then Steve walks up and grabs Sam’s hair and – wow, you shoulda seen him, he had this big grin on his face like he couldn’t wait. Opened his mouth right up when Steve took his cock out.”
Dean swallowed. “Y-you don’t say.”
“Yeah, and when Steve’s done, Slutty Sam just licks his lips and looks around the room while Brad’s dick is still in his assand says, ‘Anyone else wanna go?’ Fucking cock-hungry.” The basketball player shrugged. “I mean, I’m as straight as the next guy – so long as the next guy isn’t Brad or Steve – but come on, when someone begs to suck your cock, what’re you gonna do?”
Dean’s throat was dry. “ … So you let him blow you?”
“Uh… not exactly.” The basketball player gave Dean a sheepish grin. “When Brad was done, he pulled out and gave Sam’s ass a smack and walked away, didn’t pull up Sam’s pants or anything. I thought Sam was gonna be pissed, you know? But he just spread his legs and pushed his ass in the air, fuck, you could fucking tell he was waiting for someone else to take a turn. Probably would have begged for it if he hadn’t been gagging on Randy’s cock.” He chuckled. “I never had a girlfriend who let me, you know? And, wow, suddenly there was this tight, slick little hole just there and waiting for me to use it. Any dude would have stuffed their dick in that.”
Dean’s heart was pounding. He couldn’t imagine it, the scene just didn’t make sense in his mind. His sweet, shy, dorky little Sammy getting roughly fucked by a room full of jocks, he just couldn’t…
No, actually, he could imagine it. Really, really vividly.
“Do you know where his dorm is?” Dean stammered out.
The basketball player stepped back from Dean suspiciously. “ … You gay?”
��No, I – ” Dean gestured angrily at the team still playing on the court. “You don’t mind your teammates being gay!”
“Yeah, but I know they’re gay. You’re like… stealth gay.”
“I’m not gay! Just tell me where he lives, I’m – I’m a friend from his hometown.”
The basketball player shrugged. “Dunno. Ask Brad. They way they were going at it, looked like they’d done it before.”
“Great. Excellent. Thanks.” Dean blew out a tense breath and stalked away. “I’ll just… go talk to another person who’s fucked my brother.”
—-
Brad had shaggy blond hair and surfer-tan skin and basically fit every stereotype associated with the name “Brad.” Aside from the heterosexuality.
“So, I hear you have a thing with Sam Winchester,” Dean began wearily.
Brad laughed and tossed his basketball back into the fray, where someone else caught it and dribbled it across the court. “Oh, I’ve had a lot of things with Slutty Sam Winchester. If you know what I mean.”
Dean’s jaw twitched, but he brushed it aside and tried to bite out words. “Do you know where I can find his dorm?”
“Just look on the bathroom stalls for his number.”
“Yes,” Dean ground out, “but I’m trying to find his dorm.”
“Oh, wanna surprise him?”
“Yeah.” Dean paused. “ … Wait, no, no, that sounds really rapey in context.”
“Hey.” Brad was pulling out his smartphone. “You wanna see a video?”
The color drained out of Dean’s face. “ … What… video.”
“He let me tape it once when I was fucking him.” Brad gave Dean a knowing smile. “I can tell you wanna see it.”
The color rushed back into Dean’s face so fast it almost hurt. “I – I absolutely do not want to see – ”
Brad stepped next to Dean and showed him the smartphone with a grin. “Here.”
Dean’s words died in his throat. The small smartphone screen showed a scene that was poorly lit and grainy, but it was still very clearly sex. Brad must have been holding the phone and pointing it down his body, recording the slow slide of his cock in and out of –
– in and out of the fucking roundest ass Dean had ever seen.
Dean couldn’t tear his eyes away. It couldn’t be Sam. Because if it was Sam, then Dean was in a whole world of trouble for the fact that his cock was swelling in his jeans. But there was no face in the video, no identifying marks, not even a clear view of the bottom’s genitals. All Dean could see was that round, soft ass and a few inches of toned lower back, and that thick cock sliding in inch by inch until it was completely sheathed, pulling back out and pumping in. Dean could see Brad’s hand grab one cheek and pull it aside, showing off the pink stretch of that hole, squeezing so tight –
Dean made a noise like he’d been kicked between the legs when the completely nameless person in the video pressed their hips back eagerly, that tight ass swallowing up inch after inch of cock –
And then the person in the video groaned and Dean’s heart jumped into his throat because that was Sam’s voice.
Which meant that was Sam’s ass getting stretched open on a basketball player’s cock.
Brad started thrusting faster, a soft slap slap slap of flesh on flesh, and the groans kicked up into thin, pitiful whines. Dean’s cock throbbed when the bottom – fuck, Sam – reached back and grabbed his own cheeks, spreading them, inviting Brad in and giving Dean a perfect view of how stuffed he was. It suddenly clicked in Dean’s mind that there was no condom involved here, that his little baby Sammy was letting some jock ride him bare. Which means he might have let all those guys in the locker room fuck him without protection too, letting one cock after another shoot its load inside him –
“Like what you see?”
Dean almost jumped out of his skin and lurched away from Brad. “Mnotgay,” he stammered out quickly in response to the smug grin on the athlete’s face.
“Really? Cause you seem pretty into this.” Brad cocked an eyebrow and looked Dean over in a way that made his heart flip. “You’re hot, you know. I’d be glad to sneak back to the locker rooms with you and – ”
“Touch me and I will take you to the ground in a completely heterosexual way,” Dean said flatly.
Brad backed up. “Fine, geez, just offering.”
“Can you please… ” Dean blew out a long breath. “ … Just tell me where his dorm is. And not talk about his ass any more.”
Pretty slutty bubble butt bouncing on a thick cock –
“Yeah, sure, I’ll walk you there – ”
“Just give me the damn room number.”
“ … Fine. Spoilsport.”
—-
Dean had to take a few deep breaths as he stood in front of Sam’s dorm room door. He could hear bustling around inside, so he knew Sam was in. And he knew from the faded yellow construction-paper-and-crayola-marker name tag on the door that this room belonged to only Sam.
Dean remembered his brother as a gangly, messy-haired, nerdy teenage boy. And he prayed to god that was all he would find when the door opened.
Dean exhaled slowly, lifted his hand, and knocked on the door three times.
There was more shuffling inside and then the door opened and Dean’s shaggy-haired, stupidly tall little brother was blinking at him in surprise.
Dean managed a smile. “Hey, Sammy.”
“Dean!” Sam dragged him into a hug that Dean eagerly returned. “What – what are you doing here?”
“Missed my little brother,” Dean explained, giving Sam a firm pat on the back and pulling back to look at him. Sam was grinning broadly, sweet and innocent as ever. Dean grinned back. There was no fuckin’ way. Everyone was lying, the number on the wall was wrong, the video was someone else. He’d been an idiot to think that his Sam would be like that.
Sam opened the door all the way and said, “Hey, come on in.”
Dean followed Sam in, still looking him over. Sam was wearing a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. Hardly the mesh top and miniskirt that Dean had been half-expecting. It looked like Sam had kept on working out after leaving for college, because he was more toned than Dean remembered. His room seemed neat, distressingly so for a college freshman, aside from the papers and open textbooks scattered across his desk.
“You should have told me you were coming!” Sam insisted as he closed the door. “I would have done some cramming so I wouldn’t be busy when you arrived.”
Dean twitched at the word cramming but managed to keep a straight face. “Yeah, well, you always worked too hard, little brother. You’re taking a day off, doctor’s orders.”
Sam snorted and walked over to his desk, bookmarking the textbooks with sheets of notes and closing them. “ … Fine, but only because I’m ahead anyway.”
Dean looked around. “You got anything to drink here?”
Sam peered over his shoulder disapprovingly. “Dean, I’m nineteen.”
“So? I’ve seen you drink before.”
“I mean – sometimes I do – But I can’t keep it in my dorm or I’ll get in trouble!”
Dean just shook his head and chuckled. Good to see Sam was still a goody two-shoes. He clapped a hand on Sam’s shoulder as Sam put his notes away. “Come on, we’re buying booze. On me.”
“On your fake credit cards, you mean,” Sam said dryly.
“There’s the bitch I missed.”
“Jerk.”
—-
The sky was starting to darken as they walked across campus to the nearest booze shop. For a while, Dean was floating. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed his little brother, or how good it was just to be around him again. Like a piece of him that had been missing was now neatly back where it should be.
But the lovely floating sensation began to fade when people began saying hi to Sam.
The first one was a girl with big dark eyes that they almost bumped into as they walked through a door.
“Oh – hi, Madison,” Sam said.
Madison hugged her books to her chest and gave Sam a smile that was anything but chaste. “Hi, Sam.”
She didn’t say anything else, but Dean was positive that she checked out Sam’s ass as they walked away.
—-
Madison wasn’t the only one to greet Sam. Everywhere they went, Dean could see heads turning to follow Sam’s stride. He could see students nudging each other and whispering, grinning. And loads of people would call out to Sam as he walked by.
“Hey, Sam!”
“What’s up, Sam?”
“Looking good, Sam!”
Sam responded to all of them with the same innocent cheerfulness, like everyone was just being an especially friendly neighbor that day. It was slowly driving Dean mad. There was a complete disconnect between the predatory looks people gave his little brother and the happy smiles and waves that Sam gave them in return. It was as if everyone knew Sam was a slut except for Sam. It got to the point where Dean honestly couldn’t tell if Sam really was sleeping with half the school, or if half the school was under some sort of collective delusion that they had slept with Sam.
When a tall, scruffy-faced frat boy in a sports jacket openly leered at Sam as they passed, Dean actually growled and grabbed Sam’s arm, fingers digging into his brother’s bicep.
Sam gave him a startled look. “What?”
The frat boy was still eating Sam up with his eyes. Dean seethed silently at the man and dragged Sam away. “Nothing. Let’s just keep going.”
By the time they got to the liquor store, Dean was tense and twitchy, his hand clenched possessively around Sam’s arm. Sam gave him concerned looks, but otherwise didn’t comment. They stepped into the liquor store, making the bell on the door chime. Dean slowly let go of Sam’s arm as the door closed behind them. They stepped into the store, and a burly, tattooed man with a shaved head waved at them from behind the counter.
“Well, hey there, kid,” he called to Sam.
Dean’s whole body went tense when Sam grinned sweetly and waved back, replying, “Hey, Mike.”
No. Fucking. Way. That guy had to be in his late thirties at the least. And he was all… nasty looking and covered in scars and tattoos. Sam was nineteen. There was no fucking way –
Mr. Liquor Store leaned over the counter as Sam browsed the booze selection, and proceeded to give Sam one of the most obvious eyefucks Dean had ever seen. Dean clenched his fists until the knuckles cracked. He couldn’t stop the images from flashing through his mind. It was too easy to picture his twinky little brother in this older man’s tattooed arms, those big calloused hands running over Sam’s lean body, pulling his clothes off, grabbing his tight teenage ass and fingering it while Sam whimpered –
“Dean, what do you want?”
Dean jumped at the sound of Sam’s voice. Sam was giving him a questioning look, standing in front of the whiskey section. Dean exhaled. He was gonna need a stiff drink after this.
“U-uh – something hard.”
… Fucking fantastic choice of words.
“Whiskey fine?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
Sam pulled a bottle off the shelf and brought it up to the counter, smiling at the tattooed clerk, who gave him a hungry smile in return.
“Well, well, can I get you anything else, little boy?”
Dean ground his teeth.
“Not today, Mike,” Sam replied.
“Still twenty-one years old, I assume?”
Sam pulled out his ID and slid it across the counter. “Of course, sir.”
Mike picked up the ID and looked it over, glancing more at Sam than the card. He held out the shiny bit of plastic and Sam took it, but instead of withdrawing his hand, Mike brushed his knuckles under Sam’s chin like he was petting a dog. Dean had to clench his hands into shaking fists to keep from punching him in the face.
“Ah, just take it. This one’s on me.”
“You sure, Mike?”
“Yeah. If you’re feeling remorseful, you can pay me back later.”
“Sure, of course!”
Sam was beaming happily when he walked back to Dean with the bottle of whiskey. “Ready to go?”
Dean was glaring daggers at the clerk. “ … Yeah. Let’s get out of here.”
—-
Dean didn’t know how he made it back to Sam’s dorm without killing someone. It was just late enough in the evening that some people were already smashed. Dean knew it was a Friday night, but damn.
When they rounded a building and came across three girls in cheerleader outfits leaning against the brick and chatting, Sam hesitated.
“Uh.” It was hard to tell for sure in the dark, but Dean was pretty sure Sam was blushing. “Let’s just – ”
“Hey, heeeeeey Sam.”
One of the girls was waving her fingers at Sam, a beer bottle dangling from the other hand while she leaned against the wall. Dean’s jealousy ebbed for a moment as his eyes ran up her legs.
Sam raised a hand apprehensively and waved back. “Um, hey, Zoe – ”
“Who’s your friend, Saaaaaam? Wanna bring him along?”
One of the other girls giggled and the third smiled at Dean. Sam cleared his throat and gave Dean’s jacket a tug, trying to lead him away. “Uh – not tonight, Zoe – ”
“Come on, pretty boy, I’ll sit on your face again! I know you love that!”
“Goodnight, Zoe,” Sam replied cheerfully, pulling a rubbernecking Dean away from the girls. When the last miniskirt was out of sight, Dean spun back to face Sam so fast he almost got whiplash.
“You – ” He gestured back at the girls. “ – All of them – ”
Sam wasn’t looking at Dean, his face red. “I’m really sorry about Zoe, she’s a sweetheart but she gets kind of, uh, honest when she drinks – ”
“Have you nailed all of those girls, Sam? Answer the question, this is important.”
Sam fidgeted. “ … Yeah. Uh. It was a sorority party and… apparently I was the only boy they invited.”
They had reached Sam’s dorm building. Sam swiped them in and opened the door for Dean before continuing.
“ … Apparently this was intentional. Which I didn’t find out until after I arrived.”
“An – entire – sorority.”
“Nah, a few girls hung back.” Sam gestured. “I mean, Alice is gay, so she didn’t – ”
“Sam, almost an entire sorority is still – how do you even – ”
“Oh, it wasn’t all of them at once!” Sam opened the door to his dorm and let Dean inside. “I mean, they kind of… took… turns. Um. On me.”
Dean stepped into Sam’s dorm and set the whiskey bottle down on the desk. He stared at Sam quietly as his brother closed the door. “ … Kind of like the basketball team, huh?”
Sam went rigid, still facing the door. Then he sighed. “ … You’ve been asking around campus.”
Dean crossed his arms. “Didn’t take very long to hear some interesting stories. Seems like I’m the last to know.”
“You don’t have to know, you’re my brother.”
Dean opened the whiskey and took a sip straight from the bottle while Sam shuffled his feet awkwardly. Then he thunked the bottle back down on the table and beckoned Sam over. “Okay, come over here.”
Sam frowned. “ … What for?”
Dean scowled walked over to Sam, grabbing his shoulder and dragging him to the bed. “Sit,” he ordered, pushing Sam down on it.
Sam sat.
Dean crossed his arms, glaring down at his little brother. “Look, Sam, I know I slept around a lot when we were kids and I know you saw a lot of it – ”
Sam frowned. “Dean, that’s not why – ”
“Shut up, I’m not done.”
Sam closed his mouth sullenly.
“Okay. I know I slept around a lot but I never did it without protection. I thought I taught you better than that.”
Sam glared at Dean for a moment, then dropped his gaze to the carpet. “ … So, I guess they… um… ”
“Yeah, they told me,” Dean snapped. No need to confess right now to the visual evidence he’d been shown.
Sam sighed. He reached for the desk and picked up the bottle of whiskey, taking a long sip before beginning. “Okay, I know it looks bad, but – ”
“Bad? Sam, if even one of your partners had an STD, then not only do you have it, you could have given it to everyone you slept with after that!”
“I know that!” Sam snapped. He took another sip and screwed the lid back on, replying smugly, “That’s why I looked up a spell for STD protection. I’m herpes-proof. Can’t get infected, can’t be a carrier.”
Dean frowned for a moment, then snatched the whiskey away from Sam and took a long sip of his own.
Sam raised a hand. “Got another spell so I don’t knock up any of the girls. Most of them say they’re on the pill, but I’m not taking any chances. I’m not ready to be a daddy.”
Dean took another sip of whiskey. His head was starting to buzz. “You’ve got one though, huh?”
Sam blinked. Dean took another sip of whiskey and Sam snatched the bottle away. “What?”
“A daddy. You’ve got a daddy. Mr. Liquor Store sure seemed to like you, little boy,” Dean sneered.
Sam’s face went red and he took a short sip of whiskey before putting it back on the desk as if trying to distance it from himself. After a moment, he licked his lips and managed, “L-look, he’s actually an all right guy, and he’s – ”
“What, good with his hands?” Dean drawled.
The startled, embarrassed look on Sam’s face told Dean that Mr. Liquor Store was good with his hands. Dean snatched the bottle back and took a sip.
“That’s why you get booze even though you’re underage, huh?” he asked heatedly.
“No! I mean – I’ve got a fake ID and it’s really convincing – made it just how Dad taught us – and I think he suspects I’m underage and wants to pretend I’m not when I’m buying and pretend I am when – ” Sam choked himself off and snatched the bottle back from Dean, downing more whiskey.
Dean’s hands clenched. “Pretend you’re underage when what?”
Sam stared guiltily into the whiskey bottle. Dean grabbed Sam’s chin and made his little brother look up, tipsy-bright cheeks and whiskey-slick lips.
“When he’s fucking you?”
“Dean – ”
“He’s probably twice as old as you!”
“He’s a decent guy and he’s never done something I didn’t want!”
Dean realized he was panting slightly, from anger or from the booze or from the images in his head, he wasn’t sure. He was still grabbing Sam’s chin, and Sam was letting him, looking up at him with those big hazel eyes. Sweet little brother. Sweet little brother that everyone and anyone was getting their hands on these days. It chafed on Dean, more than he would have imagined possible, to think of all those people treating his baby brother like a…
The room was spinning a bit. Dean’s grip on Sam’s chin loosened, and he ran his hand down his little brother’s neck.
Sometimes I count his hickeys.
Dean was glad that Sam’s neck was bruise-free right now.
“I don’t like it,” Dean blurted.
Sam blinked at him a few times. He looked dizzy too. “Don’ like what?”
“Everyone else. Touching you. You’re my little brother.”
Sam gave Dean a tipsy grin, cute and lopsided. “C’mon, it’s not like I’m letting other people be my big brother. That’s only you, Dean.”
The room rocked dangerously, but Sam’s words felt solid. Dean swallowed. “ … Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Sam reached up and wrapped his hand around his brother’s, pressing it against his chest. Over his heart. “Only you, Dean. Only big brother I’ve got.”
Dean could feel the thump of Sam’s heartbeat. It was comforting. He didn’t ever want to move his hand.
“I jus’ – I just like sex, okay? I like – people, y’know?” Sam was still talking, and Dean couldn’t look away from his lips. “I like the energy and the – the intimacy and – and I know people call me a slut and they’re probably right, but it’s fine, Dean, I’m okay with me being a slut.”
I’m not. Dean swallowed the words.
Sam chuckled and glanced at his knees, hair falling in his eyes. “S’really good, you know, having someone else own you an’ push you around and use you, I jus’ like it a lot, Dean. That’s why the basketball team and the sorority and Mike and – I like feelin’… used.”
I just used what he was offering.
Dean wasn’t sure how it happened. He must have shoved Sam down on the bed because suddenly he was kneeling over his brother and Sam was panting up at him with wide, startled eyes.
“They don’t own you,” Dean said hotly. “Nobody owns you.” Except me.
Sam gave a little shudder. “D-Dean… ”
Dean splayed his hand over Sam’s chest, over his pounding heart. He closed his eyes and just listened to the th-thump th-thump of it, of Sam under him and safe and not being touched by anyone else.
The words weren’t supposed to ever pass his lips, not like this, but Dean was drunk and he couldn’t stop thinking about all the filthy things people had done to his little brother. He ground out two syllables like he was writing them in stone.
“You’re mine.”
Sam’s chest swelled under Dean’s hand. His heart was pounding so fast. Dean leaned his head down until his forehead bumped against his brother’s, whispering words that were only supposed to be thoughts.
“My little brother. My Sammy. No one else gets to have you. Only me.”
Sam’s lips barely moved, the words were scarcely more than a breath against Dean’s lips.
Yes, sir.
Dean shuddered, digging his fingers into Sam’s chest for a second. He leaned closer to Sam’s lips and hissed the word “Mine.” Sam’s back arched, pressing his chest up against Dean’s hand, and he nodded fervently.
Dean panted as he slid his hand down and shoved it under Sam’s shirt, finding his beating heart again. Something itched at him, told him he was on thin ice, but he pushed the thought aside because his brother needed to be reclaimed.
Sam just stared up at him while Dean reached under his shirt. Letting him.
Dean shuddered, bumping his nose against Sam’s and repeating the word mine. He didn’t think he could say that enough times. Sam’s bare chest was hot and smooth against his hand, firm with muscle. Dean slid his hand across Sam’s chest slowly, his movements becoming harder and hungrier the longer Sam didn’t resist. Dean pressed his face into Sam’s neck, panting as he ran his hand over his little brother.
Sometimes I count his hickeys.
No one else deserved to mark up Sam. Dean rubbed his nose over Sam’s neck, panting against the soft skin. Sam smelled like sweat, shampoo, and something that was just little brother. Sam let out a thin whine and tilted his face away, exposing his neck for his big brother. Like he was presenting himself. Just for Dean.
“I… I want to… ” Dean didn’t know where the words were coming from or where they were going. The whiskey was buzzing in his veins and he had his Sam back, and that was all that mattered. Everyone needed to know that Sam was his. Dean sealed his lips over the side of Sam’s neck and sucked, making Sam’s back arch.
“D-Dean – ” Sam was grabbing at the bedsheets, choking and gasping under his big brother. Dean’s mouth moved up Sam’s neck, leaving sore pick marks that he hoped to god would bruise. His hand was still under Sam’s shirt, running over every inch of his brother that he could reach, reminding himself that Sam was here with him. It wasn’t until Sam started pushing at his hip and mumbling shaky words that Dean realized he was rock hard and pressing his erection against his brother’s leg.
“We sh-shouldn’t, Dean, stop, we shouldn’t… you’re my brother… ”
You’re my brother. Dean pulled his hand out of Sam’s shirt and tangled it in his brother’s hair, making Sam look at him.
“Damn straight I’m your brother,” he panted. “And you’re mine.”
Sam sounded breathless. “D-Dean, this is – we need to stop – ”
When Dean tightened his hand in Sam’s hair, Sam moaned and the pressure of his hand on Dean’s hip slackened.
“Oh g-god, Dean, Dean – ”
Dean tugged on Sam’s hair again and Sam’s struggles died off completely.
“F-fuck, Dean, I sh-shouldn’t – ”
Dean tugged again and Sam fell silent with a desperate whine. It was addictive, how easily Sam surrendered to him, like Sam wanted nothing more than to give himself over completely. Without thinking, almost without realizing he was doing it, Dean slid a shaking hand between their bodies and found his own erection, squeezing it. It was like fireworks went off behind his eyes and he groaned.
Sam seemed hypnotized by the sight. “Oh – fuck, Dean – ”
Dean held still there, grabbing Sam’s hair with one hand and his own cock with the other, panting at his brother. This was wrong, he knew this was wrong. He and Sam were in fucking dangerous territory right now and it was making his heart race and his vision sway, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this horny, or this in love, and Sam – fuck, Sam looked like he was about to cream his shorts just from having his hair pulled.
Dean knew it was a terrible idea to slide his hand between Sam’s legs, but he did it anyway.
“Dean!” Sam’s gasp of surprise dissolved into a moan when Dean squeezed, and he – oh fuck – he spread his legs wide for Dean’s hand, submissive and inviting. “Oh g-g-god – ”
Dean licked his lips and tried not to think about the fact that he was grabbing his brother’s cock, tried not to think about what that meant. He rolled onto the bed next to Sam, watching the little twitches of pleasure on his brother’s face as his hand worked. It was a familiar motion, knead and squeeze through the shorts, the hard ridge of (brother’s) cock through the thin fabric hot against his hand.
“S’big, Sam,” he panted against Sam’s neck.
Sam whimpered and pressed his hips up against Dean’s hand. “Oh god, Dean, please… ”
Dean swallowed and chewed his lip before letting go of Sam’s cock and sliding his hand under the waistband of his brother’s shorts. He shuddered when his fingertips found the smooth, firm heat of Sam’s cock, and Sam grabbed at the sheets.
“D-Dean, oh god, we sh-shouldn’t do this… ”
“Don’ wanna stop,” Dean panted into Sam’s neck. He curled his fingers slowly around Sam’s cock, feeling the weight of it in his hand. “God… Sammy… ”
Sam’s long limbs were sprawled across the bed as his brother slowly jerked him off, grabbing at anything he could reach, panting open-mouthed at the ceiling. Dean watched him, enraptured. It was so satisfying, making Sam come apart like this under his hand. It wasn’t right that everyone but him should be able to do this.
Dean licked his lips and slid his hand lower down, fondling Sam’s balls. He shivered at the smooth skin that greeted his fingertips.
“You shave,” he remarked softly, lips brushing over Sam’s neck.
Sam nodded meekly, nudging his legs even further apart as Dean’s hand slid lower. Sam was shaking. Dean knew he was crossing line after line and just kept charging towards the next, he knew this was wrong and sick and incestuous, but he couldn’t make himself stop. It was Sam. He had to. Dean pressed a finger into the hot crease of Sam’s ass and closed his eyes, groaning softly. Fuck, he could feel Sam’s tight little hole against his fingertip, hot and clenched.
And slick.
Suddenly angry, Dean bit at his brother’s neck, making him whine. “Someone fuck you today?” he growled.
Sam swallowed, his throat bobbing against Dean’s lips. “ … Y-yes – ”
“Who?”
“Someone you don’t know, she’s in my English class – ”
Dean didn’t want to hear any more. He pressed his finger harder against the wet heat of Sam’s hole and Sam fell silent with a whine. Dean froze there, one finger pressed against his brother’s asshole, panting against the hickeys he’d left on Sam’s neck.
“D-Dean?” Sam shivered, licking his lips nervously. “Are… are you gonna… ”
Dean shuddered and choked out “fuck” between his clenched teeth. His finger twitched against Sam’s hole.
Sam whimpered. “ … G-god… w-we shouldn’t do this… we’re brothers, we shouldn’t do this… ”
“Do you want me to?” Dean panted fervently.
Sam pressed his hips up, easing the tip of Dean’s finger into his hole. “F-fuck, Dean, I n-need it!”
Dean groaned and pushed his finger inside his little brother. Sam cried out, grabbing at Dean’s shirt with one shaking hand.
“Oh god oh god you’re in me, my brother’s in me, oh god I’m – I’m so f-fucked… ”
Sam’s hole was fucked-loose, messy with lube inside, like it had been pumped into him straight from the bottle. Dean probed around, fingering his brother like he would finger a girl. He’d expected this to feel weird, different, because it was a man he was touching instead of a woman, but this… Dean pressed his finger in up to the knuckle, wiggling it inside his brother, and Sam squirmed. This felt just like any other tight, wet hole that he was dying to bury himself inside.
Dean flinched in surprise when he felt a desperate hand groping at his erection, feeling it through the denim.
“F-fuck, Dean… ” Sam panted as he worked Dean’s zipper open with a shaking hand. “Please… ”
Please stop. Please keep going. He could hear both in Sam’s voice. Dean pushed another finger in, groaning at how easily Sam took them. Sam’s hand slid into his brother’s jeans, finding his hard cock and tugging it eagerly. Sam whimpered, pushing his hips down against his brother’s hand.
“Fuck,” Sam panted, “fuck, this is so fucking wrong… ”
Dean shivered when Sam’s hand curled around the base of his cock and tugged up the length. Sam’s hand worked him hungrily, eagerly, fraying what little self-control he had left. Dean panted into Sam’s neck, biting at the lobe of his ear. “Fuck, S-Sammy – ”
Sam whimpered, jerking his brother off while he was fingered. Dean knew how filthy this was, how wrong, but he couldn’t stop, not when it felt this fucking good. Every twist of Sam’s hand over the head of his cock made him see stars.
“Take your pants off,” Dean hissed in Sam’s ear, pushing in a third finger, making Sam stretch.
Sam slid his shaking hand off of Dean’s cock and grabbed the waistline of his shorts, trembling as he tugged them down. He stopped with a whine when Dean’s fingers thrust.
“Dean, oh fuck – ”
“Keep going, Sammy, take ‘em off.”
Sam nodded, breathing hard as Dean’s fingers pumped in him. He dragged the shorts as far down as he could, his cock springing up against his stomach, leaking. Dean swallowed at the sight. He pulled his slick fingers out of Sam’s hole so he could grab that thick cock, giving it a slow jerk while Sam struggled with his pants. Sam finally pulled his knees up to his chest to take them off, and Dean sat up suddenly, staring between his brother’s legs at the view.
“Oh – fuck – Sammy – ”
Sam’s face was red and he seemed frozen, shorts caught around his knees, legs pulled up to his chest. Dean had an unobstructed view of his pink, smooth balls and his round ass and that hot, slick, inviting hole –
Dean grabbed the backs of Sam’s legs with a growl, pinning them against his chest and leaning over him. Sam choked in alarm.
“D-Dean?” he stammered, eyes wide as he stared up at his brother.
Dean grunted and managed to wrench Sam’s shorts off of one leg, spreading his brother wide and slotting himself between those fit thighs.
Sam pressed a hand over his mouth and made a strangled noise when Dean pulled down his open jeans, letting his cock spring loose. “Oh fuck – oh fuck you’re gonna – ”
“Want you,” Dean panted against Sam’s lips. “Want you, Sammy… ” He pressed the head of his cock against the soft warmth of Sam’s hole and bit his tongue. “Oh god… ”
He could feel the heat of his brother’s entrance. Sam was staring up at him wide-eyed, breathless, not making a move or saying a word to stop him. Dean chewed his lip, rubbing the head of his cock back and forth over Sam’s hole, smearing precome over it. He was shaking slightly.
Fuck. He’d just wanted to pay his freshman little brother a visit in college. And somehow he’d ended up here, between his little brother’s legs, with his jeans tugged down so he could press the head of his cock against little Sammy’s hole.
“D-Dean… ” Sam licked his lips, his hole clenching against the head of Dean’s cock. “Are… are you gonna… ”
“Christ I’m going to hell,” Dean spilled out against Sam’s lips, shivering. He nudged at Sam’s hole, feeling the heat of it start to open up around him…
“Oh god… ” Sam’s lips brushed over his, and fuck if that didn’t feel just as forbidden as Sam’s tight little hole starting to wrap around the tip of his cock. “Dean… ”
Dean could taste the whiskey on Sam’s breath. He pressed his hand gently over Sam’s chest, over his brother’s pounding heart. Sammy. He slid his hand down slowly, over that tense stomach, finding Sam’s cock and wrapping his fingers around it. Then he sealed his mouth over his brother’s and rocked his hips forward, sliding his cock inside.
Sam muffled a frantic noise against Dean’s mouth as his brother’s cock penetrated him, pushing into his body. Dean groaned loudly, giving Sam’s cock a slow jerk. His heart was pounding so fast that he felt lightheaded, nothing but shivering tingles from head to toe. Sam was heaven around his cock, nice tight ass squeezing him just right, an absolute mess of lube inside. Dean groaned and pushed in harder, forcing Sam’s legs to spread even wider and pressing his balls up against his brother’s ass.
When he pulled his mouth away from Sam’s to take a breath, Sam gasped Dean’s name and grabbed at his jacket. His face was flushed, his lips wet and pink from the kiss, and he gasped again when Dean pulled his cock back a few inches and thrust back in.
“Oh god yes, Dean, fuck, Dean – ”
Dean rolled his hips, pumping into his little brother. Sam grabbed at Dean’s back and cried out, legs in the air as his brother fucked him. Dean panted into Sam’s neck, still grabbing his brother’s cock and squeezing, tugging –
“Dean, nooooooo, god, I’m gonna – Dean – you’re gonna make me – ” Sam squirmed, squeezing around his brother’s thick cock as it slicked in and out of his body. “D-Dean, I’m gonna come!”
Dean groaned and thrust harder, balls bumping against Sam’s ass with each deep thrust. “Do it, god, do it, Sammy, wanna – wanna see it, wanna feel it – ”
Sam’s used hole had felt so loose and inviting around Dean’s fingers, he had no idea how his brother was suddenly so tight. Sam was clenching around Dean’s cock as if begging for more, his hole squeezing nice and snug as Dean fucked into it. Dean groaned and ground his hips down, pressed flush against his brother’s body, making quick, shallow humps that kept him buried in his brother.
“Wanna – wanna come in you, Sammy,” Dean panted against his little brother’s neck.
Sam’s whole body shuddered. He grabbed at Dean’s back, holding him close, fingers digging into the leather of his jacket. “Oh god oh god oh god please fucking do it – ”
Sam’s cock was throbbing in Dean’s hand, slick at the tip with precome. It bounced each time Dean thrust into him.
Sam pressed his face into Dean’s neck, wrapping his legs around Dean and pulling him in. Oh fuck, the noises he made, whimpers and moans and desperate gasps, it unraveled Dean, made him thrust so hard that the bed rocked, springs squeaking and frame creaking. Dean’s hips slapped against Sam’s round ass each time he stuffed his cock into his little brother –
Sam shouted something incoherent and his cock pulsed in Dean’s hand when he came. Dean jerked him through it, chanting Sam’s name and pumping into his stuffed little hole while Sam writhed.
Sam was grabbing at Dean’s hair with one shaking hand. “Oh god, are you g-gonna come in me, Dean? You gonna – gonna come in your little brother?”
Dean was embarrassed by how fast he came. He gasped wide-eyed as the pleasure hit him like a freight train, his cock pulsing inside Sam and filling his little brother up.
It felt like a decade before he caught his breath. He could feel Sam panting against his neck, his breath warm and damp and comforting. Dean finally grunted as he pulled his softening cock out of Sam’s body and flopped on the bed next to him, staring at the dorm ceiling and breathing slowly.
This was the part where he should fling himself out of bed. He should pull his pants up and storm out the door and get on the road and drive away, and pray to god that Sam was too drunk to remember this had happened. He ought to mumble something about how he’d fucked up and he was sorry and he’d never do that to Sam again. He ought to let Sam finish college in peace.
But… the bed was so warm. And Sam’s soft breathing was so soothing, a slow inhale-exhale pattern that wouldn’t let an ounce of tension find a foothold in Dean’s mind. He searched for the regret and the disgust and the self-loathing, but it wasn’t there. Just the gentle touch of Sam’s fingers weaving between his.
Sam was the first one to break the silence with an uneasy mumble. “ … I’m a little surprised you’re still here.”
Dean managed a laugh, squeezing Sam’s hand in his. “Yeah. Me too.”
“Does that mean… you… ”
Dean rolled his head to the side, meeting Sam’s eyes. Sam licked his lips anxiously. When Dean opened his mouth to answer, Sam interrupted.
“Don’t leave.”
He squeezed Dean’s hand harder when he said it, as if trying to hold his brother in place. Dean doubted that Sam realized how effective it was. If he’d felt lethargic before, now he felt locked in place by the desperate grip of those fingers.
“I’ve been apart from you too long already. Just… don’t leave because of this. Please.”
Dean closed his mouth, then smiled. He rolled over and brushed his fingertips over Sam’s jaw. “Hey. Never again, little brother.”
Dean had enough unpleasantness in his life. He wasn’t about to throw away something that felt this good. Not when it made Sam smile like that, sweet and happy and bright as the fucking sun cresting the horizon. Nothing that made Sam smile like that could be wrong.
Sam rubbed his nose against Dean’s, closing his eyes and letting out a relieved sigh. Dean was about to grab his brother and kiss him, hard and deep, but Sam started talking.
“So, uh… you really don’t like the fact that I… ”
Dean blinked. “What, sleep around?”
Sam nodded.
“Sammy, it’s not like that… I just hadn’t seen you in so long. Felt like I’d… kinda lost you.” He ruffled Sam’s hair, like he’d done when they were kids. “Knowing that so many other people got to be close to you… ” He licked his lips. “I needed you to remember that… ”
Sam covered Dean’s hand in his and dragged it over his heart. “I got it, Dean.”
Dean managed a tired smile.
“I’m yours, right?”
“Yeah. Just wish everyone knew that.”
The smile faded from Sam’s face. “It’s Friday night. I know where the nearest party is.”
Dean’s grin evaporated. For a moment, he and Sam just stared at each other.
That’s when they flung themselves out of bed.
—-
Dark had fallen over Stanford’s campus. It looked a lot less dumpy to Dean now that he could walk across it with his arm possessively wrapped around Sam’s waist.
The peaceful studiers of daytime Stanford had evacuated their sunny benches, replaced by the first flutters of night life. The campus was riddled with students in a state of unwinding, chatting and laughing, not a textbook to be seen. As Sam and Dean passed a group of guys talking under a lamp post, Dean caught one of the guys running his eyes up and down Sam’s body. This time, instead of having to content himself with glares, Dean gave the man a savage grin and grabbed Sam’s ass hard enough to make his brother yelp. The man who had been staring let out a disappointed snort and turned back to his friends.
“I like this,” Dean hissed into Sam’s neck. “Everyone knows you’re mine tonight.”
Sam whined, keeping his hands obediently by his sides as Dean groped his ass. HIs whole body radiated submission. Dean gave Sam’s ass a gentle pat.
“You look like you’ve got your tail between your legs, Sammy,” he teased.
Sam shuddered. “J-just your hand.”
“You always could pull off puppydog eyes.” Dean stroked his hand under Sam’s chin. “Huh. I should get my baby brother a collar.”
Sam swallowed hard.
—-
The party was packed. Dean kept his hand sealed over Sam’s ass so no one else would be tempted to cop a feel.
“Heeeeey, Sam.”
Sam turned, and Dean followed. A girl with silky-dark hair was draped around a tall guy that Dean recognized as one of the basketball players. They were both smiling at Sam.
“Come play with me and Randy, Sam,” the girl begged. “I miss seeing him fuck your face.”
“Yeah, and I miss seeing her ride your dick.”
Dean smiled at the couple and calmly slipped his hand down the back of Sam’s pants. Sam’s face went red.
“Sorry, kids. He’s mine.”
The girl bit her knuckle eagerly, but Randy frowned. “And who are you?”
Dean slipped his finger into the crease of Sam’s ass. Sam shivered. “H-he’s – he’s my b– ”
“I’m his boyfriend,” Dean interrupted.
The girl squeaked, but Randy looked deeply skeptical. Dean nuzzled under Sam’s hair and gave his neck a kiss.
“Little Sammy misses me when I don’t visit.”
The girl laughed. “Wow, you must be his boyfriend. He doesn’t let anyone call him Sammy.”
Randy raised an eyebrow. “Uh… no offense, man, but your boyfriend’s a bit of a slut.”
Dean pressed the tip of his finger into Sam’s come-slick hole and Sam whined. Dean grinned. “Damn straight he is. If you’ll excuse me, I need to go fuck him again. He gets so needy if he doesn’t get a cock in his ass every five minutes.”
Sam clenched around Dean’s finger.
“Oh, don’t let us keep you,” the girl urged, tugging on her boyfriend’s arm and leading him away with a disappointed look on his face.
Sam turned back to Dean with a red face. “D-Dean – ”
“Hush, Sammy, you’ve still got three more years to spend here,” Dean murmured, cupping Sam’s face with one hand and working his finger in with the other. He leaned close to Sam’s ear and whispered, “It’s fine, no one’s gotta know we’re brothers. I don’t want people giving you crap for it. It’ll be our little secret until you graduate, hm?”
Sam chewed his lip and nodded as Dean fingered him. “ … Y-yeah. I guess.”
“Now come on, slut, I need to show everyone who you belong to.”
Dean managed to drag Sam through the crowd until they found a chair in the corner of the room. He sat down on it and pulled Sam onto his lap.
Sam was already breathing hard, his cock hard and obvious in his shorts. “D-Dean – ”
Dean smirked and slid both of his hands down the back of Sam’s pants, grabbing his ass in full view of the room. “Pull these down for me, baby.”
“Oh – fuck – ”
Sam grabbed the hem of his shorts and started tugging them down. He stopped with a whine when the crease of his ass started to peek out. “Fuck… ”
Dean cupped Sam’s face. “Too much, Sammy?”
“N-no, god, want you to do it in front of everyone… ” Sam pulled his shorts down further, panting against Dean’s neck, exposing his ass to the room. He shuddered when Dean squeezed. “Oh g-god – ”
“You’re gonna give this party such a nice show, aren’t you, Sammy?”
“Y-yes sir… ”
Dean groaned and his hips jerked. “Fuck, Sammy, so fucking obedient… ”
Dean rubbed his finger over Sam’s hole, nipping at his brother’s neck. Sam was whimpering into Dean’s hair, keeping his face buried. Dean could see people staring, greedily eating up the sight of Sam’s bare ass in his hands, giving him looks ranging from approving to envious.
Dean kissed Sam’s neck. “People are lookin’ at you, Sammy. They all wish they were in my place.”
Sam’s hands clenched on Dean’s shoulders. “F-fuck – ”
“You like getting fucked in front of a crowd, don’t you? Like having an audience?”
“Y-yes!”
“I bet they’d all like to take a turn with you. Pass you around like a party favor, let everyone use your slutty ass and mouth and cock.” Dean pushed two fingers into Sam’s come-slick hole, in full view of the room. Someone wolf whistled and Dean grinned. “But you’re mine tonight, Sammy. Only I’m gonna use you. And everyone else is gonna watch.”
Sam’s fingers were digging into Dean’s jacket. “Oh fuck yes, fuck fuck fuck – ”
Dean slicked his fingers in and out slowly. “Why don’t you get my cock out? I know you’re dying to ride it.”
Sam nodded and fumbled at Dean’s pants, whimpering as his brother fingered him.
“Wish I could tell them,” he whispered low and heated in Dean’s ear. “Wish they all knew that my big brother was the one fucking me.”
Dean groaned and squeezed his brother’s ass. “Sammy… ”
Sam pulled Dean’s cock out of his pants, touching and tugging it like he couldn’t keep his hands off. He kept whispering into Dean’s neck as he jerked his brother off. “I want them all to know I’m yours, that my tough big brother owns me and no one gets to have me like you do.”
Dean hesitated, rubbing his hand in a circle over Sam’s ass. “ … That true, Sammy?”
Sam kissed Dean’s neck. “ … Never had sex in my dorm bed until tonight. Anywhere else, but not in my room. It’s my space, my private area. You just… you belong in my space, Dean.”
Dean nuzzled Sam’s neck, then bit at his ear. “Graduation gift,” he murmured. “I’ll take you to a party just like this and you can introduce me to everyone as your big brother. Then I’ll bend you over and make you scream in front of everyone.”
Sam’s hand fisted in Dean’s hair, the other squeezing his cock. “F-fuck – ”
Dean grabbed Sam’s hips and lifted him, and Sam positioned Dean’s cock against his hole obediently. Someone in the crowd cheered and Sam shivered.
“Sit on it, slut,” Dean breathed against the pit of Sam’s throat. “Ride that cock for the audience.”
Sam whimpered and pushed his hips down slowly, letting the head of Dean’s cock slip into him. Someone catcalled. Sam whimpered and shifted his hips, tensing around Dean’s cock. Dean groaned and grabbed Sam’s hips, slamming his little brother down on his cock and drawing a startled gasp from him.
“D-Dean –!”
“Fuck, there’s a good boy,” Dean groaned into Sam’s neck, thrusting up into him slowly and grabbing his round ass. The crowd must be getting a killer view. Sam’s hole was clenched so fucking tight around him, and he knew everyone could see it stuffed full of his cock.
Sam had his face buried in Dean’s neck, panting out a stream of breathless words as his brother’s dick pumped up into him. “Oh god fuck everyone can see fuck fuck they’re all watching you fuck me oh god they’re all watching my big brother fuck me – ”
Dean grabbed Sam hard, already breathless from the hot squeeze of Sam around his cock. “Fuck, you feel so good… ”
His hold on Sam’s hips was becoming less and less necessary. Sam was moving on his own, lifting and pushing and rolling his hips, riding his big brother’s cock like a pro. Dean’s head fell back and he panted, eyes closed as Sam kissed his neck and rode him. “Fucking hell, Sammy… ”
“Th-they’re all watching me, Dean, fuck, I can feel their eyes on me… ”
“S’cause you’re a pretty slut, Sammy, you look so damn good riding a cock.” Dean groaned and squeezed his brother’s round ass as it slid up and down his shaft. “Fuck, bet they all think they’re about to get a turn with this sweet hole. But there’s no fuckin’ way I’m pulling out of you, Sammy, wanna be buried in you all night.”
Sam pushed his hips down hard, whimpering as Dean pressed deep inside him. “F-fuck… ”
“They think I’m gonna just hand you out like a toy for everyone to play with.” Dean nipped Sam’s neck. “You think I’m gonna do that, Sam?”
“ … N-no, sir. I’m y-yours.”
Dean rubbed his hand in a circle over Sam’s ass, then gave it a gentle smack. “Good boy.”
Sam clenched at the spank, pressing his face into Dean’s neck and shaking. Dean laughed and smacked his brother’s ass again.
“Like that, Sammy?”
“D-Dean!”
“Big, round, slutty ass, I should have been able to tell you’d want it spanked.”
“Oh god, please… ”
Sam had been tense and tight around Dean before, but with each spank he squeezed even harder, letting out a gasp after each slap. Dean started jerking his hips up to meet Sam’s movements, slamming up into his little brother and making him cry out.
“Oh god, p-please come in me, sir, d-do it in front of everyone, I’ll be so good for you, please – ”
That was the final fucking straw. Dean buried his face in Sam’s neck and groaned loudly as his cock throbbed inside Sam, pulsing a second load of come into him. He could feel Sam’s breath against his neck, “Oh god, that’s it, please, give me all of it… ”
Dean let out a long breath when his cock stopped twitching. His hands tightened around Sam’s hips and he pulled his brother snug into his lap, keeping his cock buried.
“Here’s what you’re going to do,” he whispered into Sam’s ear, reaching between their bodies to find his brother’s cock, swollen and needy. “You’re going to sit on my dick until it’s hard again, and if anyone comes by and asks for a turn, you’re going to tell them that you’re mine, that they can look but they can’t touch. When you feel my cock stiffening inside you, you’re gonna ride it again, because my sweet little slut deserves at least three loads of come in his ass.”
From Sam’s breathless, choked noise and from the way his cock throbbed in Dean’s hand, he liked the plan.
—-
Dean blinked awake in the morning light. He frowned. This was one tiny-ass motel bed. And why were there books everywhere?
Then his brain registered the warm, comforting smell enveloping him as Sam. And he remembered last night.
Dean rolled over gently in the bed, only to find an awake Sam staring at him and smiling.
“Morning,” Sam mumbled.
Dean reached his arms above his head and stretched, snorting good-naturedly. “Were you watching me sleep? Creepy, Sammy.”
“You’re one to talk.”
Dean huffed out a breath as he let his arms relax and flopped them back by his sides. He slung an arm around Sam’s waist, pulling him close and kissing him.
“I have to get on the road,” he murmured against Sam’s lips.
Sam sighed in disappointment, pressing his body up against Dean’s. “Got a job?”
“I told Dad I’d meet him today. I’m sorry. I wanna stay.”
“Yeah, I know.” Sam kissed Dean again, then rolled out of bed.
As they got dressed, Sam cleared his throat.
“You’d better visit. A lot. I’m serious, Dean.”
Dean snickered. “You always are. I’ll come by at least once a month.”
Sam hesitated, staring at the shirt in his hands but not making a move to pull it on. He let out a breath, and it sounded resolved. “I’ll… I’ll wait for you.”
“Yeah, don’t go running off to any other colleges while I’m gone – ”
“No, Dean, I mean… I’ll wait for you.” Sam looked at him. “If you want me to. I won’t like it, but I’ll… I’ll just focus on my studies and not… ”
Dean hesitated with one leg shoved down his pants. “ … Sam, are you offering to not sleep with anyone else while I’m gone?”
“You don’t like it when I do, right?”
Dean thought for a moment, then pulled his pants the rest of the way on. “Nah, I think you should sleep with whoever you want, Sammy.”
“Dean, you don’t have to – ”
“I mean it.” Dean walked over to Sam and placed his hands on his brother’s hips. “I think you should misbehave a lot while I’m gone.”
Sam looked like his mouth had gone dry.
Dean brushed a finger over his brother’s lips. “You should be just as naughty and slutty as you want, and when I come back… well, I’ll have to reclaim you all over again, won’t I?”
Sam made a soft, choked sound and nodded. “Y-yeah. Yeah, you will.”
Dean grinned and gave Sam’s ass a pat. “Keep this nice and loose for me,” he ordered softly, “I’ll need it when I get back.” He gave his red-faced brother one more kiss and pulled away, walking out the door with a huge smile on his face.
He couldn’t wait to visit Stanford again.
-
sequel
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song lyrics that are actually about father jezz ozed:
***What keeps mankind alive- Tom waits***
"You gentlemen who think you have a mission
To purge us of the seven deadly sins
Should first sort out the basic food position
Then start your preaching, that's where it begins
You lot who preach restraint and watch your waist as well
Should learn, for once, the way the world is run
However much you twist or whatever lies that you tell
Food is the first thing, morals follow on
So first make sure that those who are now starving
Get proper helpings when we all start carving
What keeps mankind alive?
What keeps mankind alive?
The fact that millions are daily tortured
Stifled, punished, silenced and oppressed
Mankind can keep alive thanks to its brilliance
In keeping its humanity repressed
And for once you must try not to shrink the facts
Mankind is kept alive by bestial acts"
***D.I.M - Enjoy***
"I won't slap the hand that feeds me
Nor will i make a ruckus
But when it comes to priorities
I just might be the toughest
Targets honed in on what i need
Thats just me being honest
Ill get there eventually
Regardless if they like it or not
[chorus]I'll be hanging around
And you can't really tell me anything
Cause I'm gonna do it myself D-I-M
Gonna do it myself
Im gonna do it myself
With a capital M
Gonna do it myself
Everyone has a lifes mission
It could blindside you at a moments notice
I don't have the budget
To make bad decisions
And I don't have the time
To forget about precision
We will all do what we must
At the end of the motherfuckin' day
Regardless of the motherfuckin' time
[chorus]"
***Crucifire - Desert Sessions***
F-f-f-feeling high and tight as a wire
Caught out in the light
Crucifire (fire)
Put me out (fire, fire, crucifire)
I say burn, or put me out (fire, fire, fire)
Holy smoking in my bed
As we conspire
I bet she's going to my head
Crucifire (fire)
Put me out (fire, fire, crucifire)
I say burn, or put me out (fire, fire, fire)
Explosions in my chest
Strange supplier
If you got something to confess
I'm your crucifire
Put me out (fire, fire, crucifire)
I say burn, or put me out (fire, fire, fire, crucifire)
I say burn, or put me out (crucifire, crucifire, crucifire)
I say burn, or put me out (crucifire, crucifire, crucifire)
***Ritual - ghost***
"Tonight, we're summoned for a divine cause
Remembrance, no, but for their future loss
This chapel of ritual
Smells of dead human sacrifices form the altar...
Beduins and Nomads
Carried through the times
Through pestilences and famines
These ancient scrolls of rhymes
Our fallen angel vexed
Was banished from the sky
Recite now, from the text
And pray for all to die
This chapel of ritual
Smells of dead human sacrifices from the altar bed..."
***I wanna be adored - stone roses***
"I don't have to sell my soul
He's already in me
I don't need to sell my soul
He's already in me
I wanna be adored
I wanna be adored
Adored
I wanna be adored
You adore me
You adore me
You adore me
I wanna, I wanna
I wanna be adored"
***gods away on business- Tom waits***
I'd sell your heart to the junkman
Baby, for a buck, for a buck
If you're looking for someone to pull you uut of that ditch
You're out of luck, you're out of luck
Ship is sinking
The ship is sinking
The ship is sinking
There's leak, there's a leak, in the boiler room
The poor, the lame, the blind
Who are the ones that we kept in charge?
Killers, thieves, and lawyers
God's away, God's away
God's away on business
Business
God's away, God's away
God's away on business
Business
Digging up the dead with a shovel and a pick
It's a job, it's a job
Bloody moon rising with a plague and a flood
Join the mob, join the mob
[chorus]
Goddamn there's always such a big temptation
To be good, to be good
There's always free cheddar in a mousetrap, baby
It's a deal, it's a deal
God's away, God's away, God's away
On business
Business
I narrow my eyes like a coin slot baby
Let her ring, let her ring...
(all of the altered beast/alter me series but mostly:)
***Altered beast 4- king gizzard and the lizard wizard***
You don't feel a thing in your sinuous head
No love, no pain, and no fear of dread
Your apathetic dispassion has made you distort
And your savoir faire is to kill for sport
You'd wound a small creature and watch it wiggle
And lust to feel so bad, that you'd force a giggle
So crooked and curled is your point of view
There is no other creature more malicious than you
I'm completely satisfied
My other life I will not miss
An altered beast until I die
And I will not give up on this
Never!
True, I went to hell and back
But it was so I could be this
An altered beast until the end
And I will not give up on this
Never!
I don't feel heinous
I don't feel no pain
I don't feel nothing
I don't feel anything
I don't feel heinous
I don't feel no pain
I don't feel nothing
I don't feel anything
Altered Beast protect me
I don't feel heinous
I don't feel no pain
I don't feel nothing
I don't feel anything
You're ruthless, and savage, and sadistic, and vindictive
And you find human flesh is incredibly addictive
But the longer you live, and the longer you kill
There's a void that gets harder, and harder to fill
The void that you feel within would suggest
That a canyon has opened up inside of your chest
And whatever you do, there's no turning back
You've reached the end of the cul-de-sac
Emptiness inside of me
And hollowness all around me
I cut myself to see it bleed
And now I don't feel anything
Never!
Insincere and trivial
The world is void of all meaning
And God is so less visceral
And now I don't feel anything
Never!
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The Cute Guy Next Door (Might be in Trouble)
the cute guy next door (might be in trouble)
by Alesyira
Civilian Analyst Midoriya Izuku and Underground Pro-Hero Shinsou Hitoshi have (somewhat) worked out their misunderstandings just in time to stumble upon another mystery (or three).
A major case has come to Izuku's attention that could save innocent lives and implicate important people, but taking this job may end up painting a target on his back.
Meanwhile, Hitoshi seems to be plagued with a sudden bout of bad luck that strikes at the worst moments.
Building trust and learning how to work together should make the problem(s) easier to resolve... or so they hope. Maybe they'll have time to throw in a date or two while they're at it.
(If the building doesn't burn down, first.)
Words: 2751, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English
Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: M/M
Characters: Midoriya Izuku, Shinsou Hitoshi
Relationships: Midoriya Izuku/Shinsou Hitoshi
Additional Tags: Quirkless Midoriya Izuku, Analyst Midoriya Izuku, Civilian Midoriya Izuku, Smart Midoriya Izuku, Pro Hero Shinsou Hitoshi, Underground Hero Shinsou Hitoshi, Aged-Up Character(s), Aged-Up Midoriya Izuku, Aged-Up Shinsou Hitoshi, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Assumptions, Aliases, Cats, Investigations, Gossip, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42736956
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Holidays 2.28
Holidays
Action Line Day
Aduros Nau (Elder Scrolls)
Burgsonndeg (celebrates end of winter; Luxembourg)
Car Keys and Small Change Day
Community Day (Andalucia, Spain)
Dia de Andalucia (Day of Andalusia; Spain)
DNA Day
Floral Design Day
Gone-ta-Pott Day [every 28th]
HIV is Not a Crime Awareness Day
International Hygge Day
International Jewish Day of Constructive Conflict
International Underlings Day
Kalevala Day (Finland)
Linus Pauling Day (Oregon)
Metamour Day
National Black Heroes Day
National Customized Wheel & Tire Day
National Essay Day
National Heart Healing Awareness Day
National Koe Wetzel Day
National School Governors’ Awareness Day (UK)
National Science Day
National Time Refund Day
National Tooth Fairy Day [also 8.22]
National Vegan Lipstick Day
Nylon Day
Peace Memorial Day (Taiwan)
People’s Sovereignty Day (Benin)
Public Holiday (Kuwait)
Public Sleeping Day
Read Me Day
Smokey the Bear Day
Snowshoe Day
Spade Day (French Republic)
Teachers’ Day (Arab nations)
228 Memorial Day (Taiwan)
World Day without Facebook
World Living Conditions Survey Day (China)
World Sustainable Energy Day
World Tailor’s Day
Food & Drink Celebrations
Chocolate Soufflé Day
Global Scouse Day (UK)
National Pancake Day
National Singani Day
4th & Last Wednesday in February
HCM Awareness Day [Last Wednesday]
Inconvenience Yourself Day [4th Wednesday]
Pink Shirt Day (Canada, Japan) [Last Wednesday]
School Bus Driver Appreciation Day (Minnesota) [4th Wednesday]
Teal Ribbon Day (Australia) [Last Wednesday]
Independence & Related Days
Andalusia Day (Spain)
Evanoria (Declared; 2017) [unrecognized]
Gapla (Declared; 2019) [unrecognized]
Independent Hidden State of Tranquility (Declared; 2009) [unrecognized]
Independence Recognition Day (Egypt; 1922)
Territory Day (Colorado; 1861)
Festivals Beginning February 28, 2024
Elevate Festival (Graz, Austria) [thru 3.3]
Fort Worth Music Festival (Fort Worth, Texas) [thru 3.2]
Gdakon (Gdańsk, Poland) [thru 3.3]
Launceston Cup (Australia)
Feast Days
Abercius (Christian; Martyr)
Alicia the Volcano Rabbit (Muppetism)
Anna Julia Cooper and Elizabeth Evelyn Wright (Episcopal Church (USA))
Apple Wealth Cakes Day (Starza Pagan Book of Days)
Cake Day (Pagan)
Evil Clown Day (Pastafarian)
Fearn Tree Day (a.k.a. Alder; Celtic Book of Days)
Feast of the Martyrs of the Plague of Alexandria (Christian)
Februalia (Ancient Rome)
Frank Gehry (Artology)
Hedwig of Poland (Christian; Saint)
Heraclitus (Positivist; Saint)
Hilarius (Christian; Saint)
Ivan Albright (Artology)
John Tenniel (Artology)
Ken Kesey Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saint)
Lupicinus (Christian; Saint)
Mar Abba (Christian; Saint)
Matronalia (Day of Juno Lucina; Pagan)
Oswald of Worcester (Christian; Saint)
Proterius, Patriarch of Alexandria (Christian; Saint)
Romanus of Condat (Christian; Saint)
Rufinus (Christian; Saint)
Sabbatu (Everyday Wicca)
Saxon Cake Day (Offering cakes to the Gods & Goddesses)
Velja Noc (Spirits of the Dead visit living relatives, overseen by Veles, Lord of the Dead; Old Slavic)
Zamyaz (Ancient Persia; Everyday Wicca)
Lucky & Unlucky Days
Lucky Day (Philippines) [13 of 71]
Prime Number Day: 59 [17 of 72]
Sensho (先勝 Japan) [Good luck in the morning, bad luck in the afternoon.]
Umu Limnu (Evil Day; Babylonian Calendar; 10 of 60)
Unfortunate Day (Pagan) [14 of 57]
Unlucky Day (Grafton’s Manual of 1565) [14 of 60]
Premieres
Axe Me Another or Heads You Lose! (Rocky & Bullwinkle Cartoon, S1, Ep. 28; 1960)
The Big Show, by Pierre Clostermann (Novel; 1948)
Coach (TV Series; 1989)
Dancing on Air or the Pottsylvania Polka (Rocky & Bullwinkle Cartoon, S1, Ep. 27; 1960)
Donnie Brasco (Film; 1997)
Duck Amuck (WB MM Cartoon; 1953)
Eleven Kinds of Loneliness, by Richard Yates (Short Stories; 1962)
Ernest & Celestine (Animated Film; 2014)
Goodbye, Farewell, and Amen (Final Episode of M*A*S*H; 1983)
Gravity’s Rainbow, by Thomas Pynchon (Novel; 1973)
Happy Go Lucky (Heckle & Heckle Cartoon; 1947)
Hare-Abian Nights (WB MM Cartoon; 1959)
In My Own Words, by Ne-Yo (Album; 2006)
The Jesus Rolls (Film; 2020)
Justice League: Doom (WB Animated Film; 2012)
The Lake of the Dead, by André Bjerke (Novel; 1942)
The Mambo Kings (Film; 1992)
Molly Moo-Cow and Robinson Crusoe (Rainbow Parade Cartoon; 1936)
Murder on the Orient Express, by Agatha Christie (Mystery Novel; 1934) [16]
Pieces of You, by Jewel (Album; 1995)
Pluto Junior (Disney Cartoon; 1942)
Pretty in Pink (Film; 1986)
Tombeau de Couperin, by Maurice Ravel (Suite for Piano; 1920)
Tom Jones (a.k.a. The History of Tom Jones, A Foundling), by Henry Fielding (Novel; 1749)
Trade Mice (Oswald the Lucky Rabbit Cartoon; 1938)
Train, by Train (Album; 1998)
Waco: Rules of Engagement (Documentary Film; 1997)
War, by U2 (Album; 1983)
”Weird Al” Yankovic in 3-D, by Weird Al Yankovic (Album; 1984)
Wendy (Film; 2020)
Working: People Talk About What They Do All Day and How They Feel About What They Do, by Studs Terkel (Nonfiction Book; 1974)
Today’s Name Days
Oswald, Roman, Silvana (Austria)
Bogoljub, Roman, Teofil, Vikica (Croatia)
Lumír (Czech Republic)
Øllegaard (Denmark)
Vilmar, Vilmer, Vilmo (Estonia)
Onni, Sisu (Finland)
Romain (France)
Detlev, Oswald, Roman, Silvana (Germany)
Kyra, Marianna (Greece)
Ákos, Bátor (Hungary)
Antonietta, Erminio, Romano, Teresio (Italy)
Justs, Skaidra, Skaidrīte (Latvia)
Romanas, Vilgardas, Žygimantė (Lithuania)
Maren, Marina (Norway)
Chwalibóg, Józef, Makary, Nadbor, Roman (Poland)
Gherman, Ioan, Vasile (Romania)
Zlatica (Slovakia)
Hilario, Román (Spain)
Maria (Sweden)
Chance, Chauncey, Linus, Macey, Macie, Macy (USA)
Today is Also…
Day of Year: Day 59 of 2024; 307 days remaining in the year
ISO: Day 3 of week 9 of 2024
Celtic Tree Calendar: Nuin (Ash) [Day 11 of 28]
Chinese: Month 1 (Bing-Yin), Day 19 (Ren-Xu)
Chinese Year of the: Dragon 4722 (until January 29, 2025)
Hebrew: 19 Adair I 5784
Islamic: 18 Sha’ban 1445
J Cal: 29 Grey; Eightday [29 of 30]
Julian: 15 February 2024
Moon: 85%: Waning Gibbous
Positivist: 3 Aristotle (3rd Month) [Heraclitus]
Runic Half Month: Tyr (Cosmic Pillar) [Day 5 of 15]
Season: Winter (Day 70 of 89)
Week: 4th Week of February
Zodiac: Pisces (Day 10 of 30)
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Holidays 2.28
Holidays
Action Line Day
Aduros Nau (Elder Scrolls)
Burgsonndeg (celebrates end of winter; Luxembourg)
Car Keys and Small Change Day
Community Day (Andalucia, Spain)
Dia de Andalucia (Day of Andalusia; Spain)
DNA Day
Floral Design Day
Gone-ta-Pott Day [every 28th]
HIV is Not a Crime Awareness Day
International Hygge Day
International Jewish Day of Constructive Conflict
International Underlings Day
Kalevala Day (Finland)
Linus Pauling Day (Oregon)
Metamour Day
National Black Heroes Day
National Customized Wheel & Tire Day
National Essay Day
National Heart Healing Awareness Day
National Koe Wetzel Day
National School Governors’ Awareness Day (UK)
National Science Day
National Time Refund Day
National Tooth Fairy Day [also 8.22]
National Vegan Lipstick Day
Nylon Day
Peace Memorial Day (Taiwan)
People’s Sovereignty Day (Benin)
Public Holiday (Kuwait)
Public Sleeping Day
Read Me Day
Smokey the Bear Day
Snowshoe Day
Spade Day (French Republic)
Teachers’ Day (Arab nations)
228 Memorial Day (Taiwan)
World Day without Facebook
World Living Conditions Survey Day (China)
World Sustainable Energy Day
World Tailor’s Day
Food & Drink Celebrations
Chocolate Soufflé Day
Global Scouse Day (UK)
National Pancake Day
National Singani Day
4th & Last Wednesday in February
HCM Awareness Day [Last Wednesday]
Inconvenience Yourself Day [4th Wednesday]
Pink Shirt Day (Canada, Japan) [Last Wednesday]
School Bus Driver Appreciation Day (Minnesota) [4th Wednesday]
Teal Ribbon Day (Australia) [Last Wednesday]
Independence & Related Days
Andalusia Day (Spain)
Evanoria (Declared; 2017) [unrecognized]
Gapla (Declared; 2019) [unrecognized]
Independent Hidden State of Tranquility (Declared; 2009) [unrecognized]
Independence Recognition Day (Egypt; 1922)
Territory Day (Colorado; 1861)
Festivals Beginning February 28, 2024
Elevate Festival (Graz, Austria) [thru 3.3]
Fort Worth Music Festival (Fort Worth, Texas) [thru 3.2]
Gdakon (Gdańsk, Poland) [thru 3.3]
Launceston Cup (Australia)
Feast Days
Abercius (Christian; Martyr)
Alicia the Volcano Rabbit (Muppetism)
Anna Julia Cooper and Elizabeth Evelyn Wright (Episcopal Church (USA))
Apple Wealth Cakes Day (Starza Pagan Book of Days)
Cake Day (Pagan)
Evil Clown Day (Pastafarian)
Fearn Tree Day (a.k.a. Alder; Celtic Book of Days)
Feast of the Martyrs of the Plague of Alexandria (Christian)
Februalia (Ancient Rome)
Frank Gehry (Artology)
Hedwig of Poland (Christian; Saint)
Heraclitus (Positivist; Saint)
Hilarius (Christian; Saint)
Ivan Albright (Artology)
John Tenniel (Artology)
Ken Kesey Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saint)
Lupicinus (Christian; Saint)
Mar Abba (Christian; Saint)
Matronalia (Day of Juno Lucina; Pagan)
Oswald of Worcester (Christian; Saint)
Proterius, Patriarch of Alexandria (Christian; Saint)
Romanus of Condat (Christian; Saint)
Rufinus (Christian; Saint)
Sabbatu (Everyday Wicca)
Saxon Cake Day (Offering cakes to the Gods & Goddesses)
Velja Noc (Spirits of the Dead visit living relatives, overseen by Veles, Lord of the Dead; Old Slavic)
Zamyaz (Ancient Persia; Everyday Wicca)
Lucky & Unlucky Days
Lucky Day (Philippines) [13 of 71]
Prime Number Day: 59 [17 of 72]
Sensho (先勝 Japan) [Good luck in the morning, bad luck in the afternoon.]
Umu Limnu (Evil Day; Babylonian Calendar; 10 of 60)
Unfortunate Day (Pagan) [14 of 57]
Unlucky Day (Grafton’s Manual of 1565) [14 of 60]
Premieres
Axe Me Another or Heads You Lose! (Rocky & Bullwinkle Cartoon, S1, Ep. 28; 1960)
The Big Show, by Pierre Clostermann (Novel; 1948)
Coach (TV Series; 1989)
Dancing on Air or the Pottsylvania Polka (Rocky & Bullwinkle Cartoon, S1, Ep. 27; 1960)
Donnie Brasco (Film; 1997)
Duck Amuck (WB MM Cartoon; 1953)
Eleven Kinds of Loneliness, by Richard Yates (Short Stories; 1962)
Ernest & Celestine (Animated Film; 2014)
Goodbye, Farewell, and Amen (Final Episode of M*A*S*H; 1983)
Gravity’s Rainbow, by Thomas Pynchon (Novel; 1973)
Happy Go Lucky (Heckle & Heckle Cartoon; 1947)
Hare-Abian Nights (WB MM Cartoon; 1959)
In My Own Words, by Ne-Yo (Album; 2006)
The Jesus Rolls (Film; 2020)
Justice League: Doom (WB Animated Film; 2012)
The Lake of the Dead, by André Bjerke (Novel; 1942)
The Mambo Kings (Film; 1992)
Molly Moo-Cow and Robinson Crusoe (Rainbow Parade Cartoon; 1936)
Murder on the Orient Express, by Agatha Christie (Mystery Novel; 1934) [16]
Pieces of You, by Jewel (Album; 1995)
Pluto Junior (Disney Cartoon; 1942)
Pretty in Pink (Film; 1986)
Tombeau de Couperin, by Maurice Ravel (Suite for Piano; 1920)
Tom Jones (a.k.a. The History of Tom Jones, A Foundling), by Henry Fielding (Novel; 1749)
Trade Mice (Oswald the Lucky Rabbit Cartoon; 1938)
Train, by Train (Album; 1998)
Waco: Rules of Engagement (Documentary Film; 1997)
War, by U2 (Album; 1983)
”Weird Al” Yankovic in 3-D, by Weird Al Yankovic (Album; 1984)
Wendy (Film; 2020)
Working: People Talk About What They Do All Day and How They Feel About What They Do, by Studs Terkel (Nonfiction Book; 1974)
Today’s Name Days
Oswald, Roman, Silvana (Austria)
Bogoljub, Roman, Teofil, Vikica (Croatia)
Lumír (Czech Republic)
Øllegaard (Denmark)
Vilmar, Vilmer, Vilmo (Estonia)
Onni, Sisu (Finland)
Romain (France)
Detlev, Oswald, Roman, Silvana (Germany)
Kyra, Marianna (Greece)
Ákos, Bátor (Hungary)
Antonietta, Erminio, Romano, Teresio (Italy)
Justs, Skaidra, Skaidrīte (Latvia)
Romanas, Vilgardas, Žygimantė (Lithuania)
Maren, Marina (Norway)
Chwalibóg, Józef, Makary, Nadbor, Roman (Poland)
Gherman, Ioan, Vasile (Romania)
Zlatica (Slovakia)
Hilario, Román (Spain)
Maria (Sweden)
Chance, Chauncey, Linus, Macey, Macie, Macy (USA)
Today is Also…
Day of Year: Day 59 of 2024; 307 days remaining in the year
ISO: Day 3 of week 9 of 2024
Celtic Tree Calendar: Nuin (Ash) [Day 11 of 28]
Chinese: Month 1 (Bing-Yin), Day 19 (Ren-Xu)
Chinese Year of the: Dragon 4722 (until January 29, 2025)
Hebrew: 19 Adair I 5784
Islamic: 18 Sha’ban 1445
J Cal: 29 Grey; Eightday [29 of 30]
Julian: 15 February 2024
Moon: 85%: Waning Gibbous
Positivist: 3 Aristotle (3rd Month) [Heraclitus]
Runic Half Month: Tyr (Cosmic Pillar) [Day 5 of 15]
Season: Winter (Day 70 of 89)
Week: 4th Week of February
Zodiac: Pisces (Day 10 of 30)
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Please reblog this list of anons in order to participate in the event. For players with multiple characters, please only reblog these posts ONCE on your main character account and tag your other participating character accounts in the caption below in order to avoid spamming the dash with the reblogged M!A lists.
Remember to send out anons to other players participating too!
Rule #63: Muse has been physically transformed into the female version of themselves. The effect lasts for 72 hours.
Leather: Muse must wear a leash and collar, becoming extremely horny as a result. If another mun sends this off anon, the muse must be their character’s slave for the duration and do whatever they ask. The effect lasts for 48 hours.
Perfect Insanity: Muse will be on a quest to make out with the one person they know they shouldn’t. They’ll also be extremely jealous of their target showing any attention or affection to someone else. Anon can decide who that person is or leave it up to mun. The effect lasts for 24 hours.
Charmingly Flirtatious: Muse becomes a dazzling romantic for a specified amount of time, flirting with everyone regardless of gender, current relationship, or sexual preferences. The effect lasts for 48 hours.
Roleplay: Muse is now dressed in a sexy costume and can’t remove it. This can be specified by the anon or chosen by the mun. The longer they are dressed that way the more they take on the persona of what they are dressed as. The effect lasts for 24 hours.
Power Bestowal: Muse has been granted one superpower of anon’s choosing that the muse doesn’t already possess. The effect lasts for 72 hours.
Take It Off: Muse takes off an article of clothing every time their name is said. They can’t put their clothing back on for one hour after removing it. The effect lasts for 24 hours.
Unlucky: Muse is plagued with some seriously bad luck. The effect lasts for 48 hours.
Say My Name: Muse will have a sudden orgasm every time someone says their name. The effect lasts for 48 hours.
Honest Abe: Muse is unable to tell lies and will be forced to speak the truth with any question they’re asked. The effect lasts for 24 hours.
Freaky Friday: Muse has swapped bodies with another character of anon’s choosing (both muns of the characters involved must agree to this FC swap before answering anon on the dash). The effect lasts for 48 hours.
Irresistible: There’s just something about the muse today. Anyone who comes across the muse will be unable to control themselves. No matter who they are or how they feel, they’ll be compelled to try to get some personal time with the muse. And it’s not for an interview. The effect lasts for 24 hours.
Mask Off: Oh no! Does your muse have a human disguise hiding their true form? Not any more! Any disguise hiding a supernatural’s true form is now broken with no way for the character to restore it until the spell ends. The effect lasts for 72 hours.
Spirit Animal: Muse has turned into an anon-specified animal with no way of turning back or communicating normally. If unspecified, mun can choose. The effect lasts for 24 hours.
Body Mod: Muse has a specific physical trait changed, added, or removed by anon’s choice (eye color, height, scars, hair length or color, size, etc.). Anon can request anything as minor or as weird as they like. The effect lasts for 48 hours.
Kinky Boots: Muse is now dressed in some sort of fetishwear (crossdressing, bondage gear, chastity devices, body harnesses, anything leather or latex or other material, etc.) either at the anon’s specification or left to the mun’s choosing and can’t remove it. The longer they are dressed this way the more aroused they’ll feel. The effect lasts for 72 hours.
Flesh: Muse is insatiably horny and sensitive as if their whole body has become an erogenous zone. They also crave rough sex (being thrown/throwing their partner against a wall, biting, scratching, etc.). May need repeated rounds until feeling satisfied. The effect lasts for 48 hours.
It’s Not the Midas Touch: Everyone that the muse touches will have a sudden (terribly timed) orgasm. Oops? The effect lasts for 24 hours.
Species Change: Muse now has all the traits and abilities of a different species specified by the sender. Unspecified can be left up to the receiver to decide at random. The effect lasts for 48 hours.
Vices and Virtues: Muse will take on the extreme traits of one vice (lust, envy, pride, wrath, sloth, greed, gluttony) or virtue (chastity, kindness, humility, patience, diligence, charity, temperance) that anon specifies. The effect lasts for 48 hours.
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Flyboy
Read this masterpiece on AO3 at https://ift.tt/DaqiskX
by EndoWrites
Years after a major accident ended Sakusa’s fledgling career as a Formula 1 driver, he’s made a name for himself in another way - running the team that’s won the F1 championship for the last three seasons in a row. When it’s announced that Blue Castle Yamaha F1 Team intends to purchase a second team and recruit an additional pair of drivers, Sakusa is left with the daunting task of taking two impulsive, reckless rookies in Hinata Shouyou and Kageyama Tobio and transforming them into race-winning, circuit carving machines.
But Sakusa’s abrupt departure from racing still haunts his memory, and the litany of mistakes - both professional and personal - that have plagued his life in the following years have shaken his confidence in tackling the job of training Kageyama and Hinata himself.
It’s just his luck, then, when one such mistake - motorcycle racer and MotoGP darling Miya Atsumu - offers to help.
(Written for the SakuAtsu Big Bang for 2023 | Featuring art from Dictsumu!)
Words: 5758, Chapters: 1/8, Language: English
Series: Part 3 of It's Lights Out and Away We Go
Fandoms: Haikyuu!!
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: M/M
Characters: Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Atsumu, Kageyama Tobio, Hinata Shouyou, Bokuto Koutarou, Kozume Kenma, Kuroo Tetsurou
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Car Racing, Alternate Universe - Formula One, One Night Stands, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Anxiety, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Getting Together, Explicit Sexual Content, Gentle Sex, Anal Sex, Bottom Sakusa Kiyoomi, Top Miya Atsumu, Soft Miya Atsumu, Light Dom/sub, POV Sakusa Kiyoomi, Sakusa Kiyoomi is Bad at Feelings
read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/DaqiskX
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