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macfrog · 9 months

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rack 'em

the girlies watched triple frontier last week and it was the single most inspiring thing i have ever seen so here’s a lil frankie fic to cleanse my mind. dedicated to my babies @gracieispunk (who put this concept in my head for the wee laddies), @hellishjoel & @strang3lov3 🤍

pairing: bbf!frankie morales x f!reader

summary: when your parents ask you to housesit for them, you take the opportunity to spend some quality time back in your hometown, hanging with your older brother and...getting reacquainted with his best friend

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) reader is santiago's younger sister, she and frankie do not get along, teasing & touching, dubcon (reader is a little drunk, frankie is not), oral sex (f receiving), alcohol consumption, quick mention of dr*gs, cursing, frankie's a bit of a dick but reader gives as good as she gets

word count: 6.1k (cause apparently i don’t know how to write short fics 🤪)

main masterlist

When you were four, a new family moved in across the street. Nobody knew them – your mom spent two straight days trying to scoop for information. Who they were, where they’d moved from, what was with the banged-up Ford pickup they drove. Nobody knew a thing.

You didn’t take much interest, being four years old – two months shy of your fifth birthday, by the way – and too invested in whatever politics a woman of your age finds herself wrapped up in, but you noticed one key thing about them.

The mom had tattoos.

Two full sleeves. Colorful ones, too. A bright red heart on her shoulder, a green snake wrapped around her forearm – among others. It was fucking cool, alright? No matter how much your mom whispered to Ms. Teller over the fence about them.

One night, when you were supposed to be in bed, you snuck out of your room and crossed the landing to your brother’s. Santiago and his friends were all staying at Tom’s, and you knew that in his desk he had permanent markers. You clicked the door open, as quiet as you could, and crept over his matted carpet to the drawer. You took one Sharpie, and spent the night adding snakes and hearts and whatever else came to mind to your Barbies’ arms, legs, faces, necks.

They looked fucking awesome. Just like that mom across the street.

But somehow or other – and I’m not blaming anyone – the next morning, a drawing appeared on the bathroom wall. In Sharpie. Your mom hit the roof.

As soon as Santi got home, she dragged him by the ear into the bathroom and pointed a trembling finger at the drawing. You forget what it was – it’s been years, and you were never much of an artist.

His plea of innocence helped him none; she knew he owned Sharpies, knew he sucked just as bad as you did at drawing, and he was grounded for three whole weeks. No soccer practice, no TV, no PlayStation. Which, at thirteen, is basically a stint in Rikers.

Your brother, though…he was always better than your mom at reading your mind. He saw the guilt on your face plain as the black marker behind the toilet tank. He cornered you in your bedroom as soon as she went back downstairs, and established three key rules going forward.

One: do not enter his room ever again.

Two: no touching his stuff.

And three: anytime he took the fall for you, you owed him. Big time.

You’ve followed the rules ever since. You barely knew what the inside of his room looked like, growing up. But it worked, ‘cause ever since the Sharpie incident of ’99, you two remained closer than most siblings with an eight-year age gap.

So, now, two days into a two-week stay back in your hometown to housesit while your parents head off on a cruise to celebrate their anniversary, you’re in the car with him. Listening to music, bitching about your mom, arguing over the best Cola flavor.

It’s like old times.

“She said, How’s my baby girl?” you yell over Stevie Nicks’s voice, reading from your phone.“And when I said I’m fine, she said, No, I meant the dog. Is she fucking serious?”

Santiago’s head tilts back with laughter, dark curls nudging against the headrest. He’s driving you to Lucky’s, a local sports bar he and his buddies frequent. He promised when he picked you up at the airport he’d take you out, get you drunk, and he was holding to it.

You pull your legs down off the dash as he turns into the parking lot, pulling in right under the white fluorescent sign, four-leaf clover flashing under it.

“She’s looking forward to seeing you when they get back,” he tells you, switching the engine off.

“Oh, yeah? That why she didn’t even hang around to see me before they left?”

He hands you a smug grin, shrugging his shoulders. “Can’t have it all, big shot. You move a thousand miles away, you forfeit your chance of being the favorite.”

You swing your door open and hop out, chasing him around the car to follow him inside. “You say that like I was ever in the fucking running.”

He snorts, pushing the door open, and a loud cheer roars through the bar. You blush as you follow your brother across the room to two tables full of familiar faces.

“Hey, baby.” Your best friend’s arms pull you in, her gold hoop earrings cold against your cheek. She smells like rose and cedarwood.

“Mal,” you hum, smiling as she pulls away.

“My mom said your parents only just made it on board,” she says, detaching strands of her long, black hair from the cuff of your jacket. “Said they had a flat tire and had to race to get to the boat.”

Your head jerks back. “She never told me any of that. Just asked how Ange was.”

Mal snorts.

“Hey, lil Santi!”

You glance over your shoulder to watch as Benny Miller stalks over, almost shoving some old guy off his feet, arms wide open, wide grin spread across his lips. His brother, Will, follows behind, and gives your shoulder a loving slap when Benny pulls you in for a hug.

“How’s Boston treatin’ ya?”

“Good,” you reply. “How’s…MMA treating you?”

“Good!” he echoes, eyebrows almost reaching his hairline.

It’s kinda part of the deal that your older brother’s friends become brothers in their own right to you, especially when you’re as young and easily-influenced as you were. They used to use you in their elaborate plans – send you in as a distraction while they filled their pockets with food at parties, or use your smaller stature to their advantage when attempting to break into places they shouldn’t.

By the time you were old enough to follow their orders, they were well into their teens. Which is basically grown-up, as far as six-year-old you was concerned. They were always allowed to do things you’re still not sure your mom would permit you to do at twenty-eight, like disappear all day without checking in, or come home black and blue after an organized street brawl with the boys from the other side of the neighborhood.

But there was no denying they cared about you. Will, Benny, and Tom, at least. They showed their affection by ruffling your hair as they passed, or sneaking you candy under the table even after your mom had told you you’d had enough. They’d christened you ‘lil Santi’, a name that – despite the embarrassment it always casts over you anytime you hear it – still sticks to this day.

Your brother’s friends were family to him, and, by extension, family to you.

Well. All but one.

Frankie Morales – nickname Catfish: long-time best buddy of your big brother, and long-time fucking asshole. There isn’t one thing on Earth that you two see eye to eye on, except for that very fact: he hates you almost as much as you hate him.

Always have, always will.

He’s in trouble almost regularly for drug-related stuff you don’t bother asking Santiago about. You don’t need to hear details to know he’s a pain in the ass. He’s been antagonizing you for as long as you’ve known him – where the others ruffled your hair, he’d shove into your shoulder as he passed, sending you – and whatever you were holding – flying. Any attempt you made at conversation with any one of them resulted in an argument between you and Frankie.

You hated him. Fucking hated him.

And tonight, you almost think yourself lucky. Almost go over to thank Santi for not inviting him, when you notice the silhouette of his baseball cap and that denim button up hunched over in a bar stool, and your eyes narrow.

You can’t help yourself. It’s been a years-long feud. And you’re old enough to take him on now. So, you stride over.

“You here to poison my drink?”

“What?” he asks, shaking his head. Already exasperated just by the sight of you.

“I bet you cheered the loudest when I walked in.”

He shrugs. “Cheered when your brother gave me fifty bucks to show face.”

Your upper lip curls. When the bartender notices you standing, elbows propped on the bar, he leans over.

“Beer, please.” Your smile twists into a grimace when you catch Frankie watching you. “What are you doing here? You have to be the person least excited to see me home.”

“I told you,” he says, lifting the bottle to his lips, “I’m bein’ paid.”

“Alright, so what do I gotta pay you to make you leave?”

Frankie scoffs, opens his mouth to answer what you’re sure is a comment laced with just as much venom, when Will’s strong arms slap down on each of your shoulders.

“We buyin’ our favorite veterinary nurse a drink, Francisco?”

You take your beer from Nick’s outstretched hand, sliding him the cash in return, and hold it up to Will in reply. “I’m good, thanks. Wouldn’t wanna eat into that fifty bucks, Catfish,” you mutter, turning to wander off.

You weave in and out of bodies, making your way to the opposite side of the bar where the pool tables sit. Doused in the warm strip light over the green felt, Santi chalks his cue ready to play against Mal, who’s already lining up her shot.

You hop up on a stool right next to the table, glancing back over to the bar where Frankie sits, now turned to face your direction. His elbow sits on the wooden surface, head turns from the football game showing behind the bar, over to you. And when he sees you looking, turns back to the TV screen, cool expression never changing.

“You done?” Mal asks Santiago, feeding the cue through her ring-decorated fingers.

He nods, tossing the chalk back over to you. “Better get your purse out, Bennett. Lotta sober people in here, all gonna want a free drink once you lose.”

“As if,” she breathes, and breaks the rack.

Somewhere throughout the game – a grueling and controversial one, by all accounts – Frankie makes his way over, following Will. You’re thankful when he plants himself on the other side of the table, one hand in his jeans pocket, the other around a bottle of beer. Though the light only comes up to his chest, right where the last button is done up, you notice him looking. Every fucking glance.

It pisses you off. Not the glancing. The way it makes you feel having him watch you. Wherever it comes from, you swallow it down with one big gulp of alcohol.

The game ends in a questionable loss. This side of the table swears the white skimmed off of Mal’s final solid when Santi hit it, right before it potted the black. The other side objected, claimed it was a clean shot ‘n you all know it. A winner wasn’t officially announced, but, being that Mallory Bennett is a force of nature where her competitive nature is concerned, Santiago was forced to buy the loser’s round.

She saunters up to you with her free whiskey in her hand, silver jewelry clinking off of the cold glass.

“Proud of yourself?” you ask, smirking.

She hands you your third beer of the night, sweeping her silky hair out of her face. “It hit it, alright? I saw it move.”

“Was that before or after you nudged the table?”

Mal holds a finger to her lips. You swat her hand away and the pair of you giggle, leaning into each other like schoolgirls whispering secrets in the playground.

“You know something,” Santiago materializes over Mal’s shoulder, shaking his head, “if you gotta cheat to beat me, I’ll give you the win.”

“Oh, get out,” you throw back. “Don’t blame her for your bad aim. Ms. Teller could’ve hit that shot and she’s got cataracts in both eyes.”

Your brother nods at you, tongue in his cheek. “Alright, smartass. Grab a cue.”

You scoff. Look around the room, shaking your head. The crowd has dispersed a little, folks have turned back to the TV screens, shifted focus back to the alcohol in their glasses. And then you look back to Santiago, holding his arms out.

“Alright. Fuck it.”

You hop down and snatch the second cue, wandering around the table while he racks the balls. He lifts the triangle, rolls the white over to you, and tells you to break.

The multicolored balls scatter in a fleet, two stripes tumble into pockets, and you stand back to survey your options. There’s a third stripe close to a pocket on the right, so you wander around to your left and turn.

“’scuse me,” you mutter, nudging Frankie’s stomach with the bottom of your cue.

He shoots you a dead-eyed stare, and takes one step back. And then his eyes drop, and you feel like you could slap him.

But you’re three – almost four – beers deep, and there are heads turning to watch how this plays out, and you can feel the bassline of the music rippling up from the soles of your feet all through your body, and you can feel the heat of his stare on the backs of your thighs, right where the hem of your dress sits.

Suddenly, slapping isn’t what you want to do to him.

Your head turns back to the pool table and you bend over, drawing the cue back between almost shaking fingers, and slam it into the white. It fires into the red striped ball, which hits the corner of the cushion, millimeters away from falling into the pocket.

You sigh, straightening up and waiting for your brother to begin his taunting, but it never comes. Instead, he fishes into his pocket for his phone, tapping the screen and holding it to his ear.

“Yep?” There’s a pause, Santiago’s face sours, and then he glances around the bar. “Right now? Really? No, it’s just…” He sighs. “Alright. I’ll be there. Just…I’m coming. I’m coming.”

He hangs up the phone and curses under his breath, then turns back to you, answering the question on your expression with: “One of our informants just got himself killed. I gotta go.”

“You haven’t even taken a shot yet,” you huff, taking his cue when he holds it out.

“I’ll make it up to you, hermana, promise. How are you gonna get home?”

You shrug. Mumble an, “I dunno.”

His eyes scan the room, passing over Will – already worse for wear, leaning shakily against a nearby table slurring to a group of strangers, then to Benny – stumbling out of the bar door with some girl on his arm, and finally land on the figure behind you, sliding a bowl of peanuts across the table to himself.

“Morales,” Santiago calls, and you throw the cues down on the felt.

“No, no way,” but your brother is already pushing past you to get to his friend. “Pope, no fucking w–”

Frankie turns, handful of nuts, cheek full and chewing.

“I gotta go, trouble at work. Can you do me a favor, man, ‘n make sure she gets home alright?”

“No,” you repeat. “He is not taking me home.”

“Baby,” Santi pleads, “just go with him, please?”

“I’ll walk. It’s, like, a twenty-minute walk.”

“No way. Mom would kill me.”

“Well, then, we just don’t tell her. Pope, please.”

He ignores you. “You are not walking home after dark. No.”

“Probably be safer than in the truck with him.”

Frankie’s head stops flitting between the two of you and his glare settles on yours. “Fuck you,” he spits, shaking his head.

“Right back at you,” you reply, insincere smile on your lips.

Santiago puts his palms together and holds them out to you. “Look, just – please. Just this once. I’ll owe you one.”

He doesn’t owe you one often. Makes a point of deliberately trying not to owe you one. This is an interesting offer. You sigh, and roll your eyes.

“Fine. You better fucking pay me back, though!”

“You got it,” he says, patting your shoulder. “Thanks, man,” he whispers to Frankie as he passes, slipping through the crowd toward the exit.

You and Frankie are left, two feet apart, filled with silence and resentment.

“You looking for someone else to hand your ass to you, lil Santi?” he asks, tossing another handful of peanuts into his mouth.

“You’re funny.” You hand him a smile, which drops the second he looks at it.

But when you turn back to the table and lift the cues, you hand one to him. Push it into his chest, shoot him a narrow-eyed glance.

“One game. And only ‘cause I need a sub.”

He dusts his hands together, shrugs. “Shouldn’t take me too long.”

You stalk back over to Mal, who’s giggling into her glass. “You two are unbelievable.”

“Don’t.” You hold your hand up, taking another swig of beer as Frankie lines up.

On his first shot, he pots that same red you were trying to hit before. His eyes lift only for a second, but you catch the cocky look he throws you and screw your face up.

“Fucking…ass,” you whisper.

Frankie’s shoulders jump, his teeth take his bottom lip. He’s laughing to himself when he takes his next shot, and pots another stripe. And then he stands up straight, holds his hands out.

“Just tell me when.”

“When what?”

“To start going easy on you.”

Fuck off. Fuck off, fuck you, fuck this. Fuck!

One more ball potted and finally, fucking finally, he misses a shot. It’s an impossible shot, anyway, there’s no way in hell he was gonna make it, but that’s not what matters. What matters is the way you twirl your cue in your fingers, then lift it and wander around the table, squeezing between Frankie and the wooden edge to get to your shot.

Your ass brushes past his jeans, and when you turn your head to whisper a sarcastic Sorry, he fucking growls. Low, almost inaudible. But just enough for you to notice, and enough for you to keep pissing him off.

The buzz you’re getting from antagonizing him this much must awaken some sort of billiards skillset you never knew you fucking had, because you pocket four balls in quick succession. Red, then green, then blue, and purple. There’s one ball between you when Frankie rounds the table, eyes scanning the felt for the next best shot he can take.

“Hurry the fuck up,” you mutter as he passes by you, on his third lap of the table.

He tsks. “Impatient,” he replies, shoulder brushing yours heavily. You feel the rough denim of his jeans graze your thighs, the weight of him against your backside for the second time. You push back, leaning into him as he moves past, then leans over, slinks his cue between his fingers, and takes his shot.

The yellow sails into the nearest pocket like there’s a magnet pulling it. The purple does the exact same – he barely has to tap it with the tip of the cue and it’s dropping in atop its predecessor.

Frankie turns, shimmying a little up the table, hip nudging yours out of the way. “Move,” he mumbles, shutting one eye to aim for the black. “Come on…” he breathes, and then shoots.

It bounces off of the opposite side of the table, thudding off of the cushion before it’s rolling toward the pocket and dropping in with a plunk.

He stands, fixing his baseball cap, and leans the cue against the table. “Good game, loser,” he says, ruffling your hair as he passes you.

“What age are you?” you sneer as he wanders back off to his beer, waiting for him on the table next to his bowl of peanuts.

Will wraps an unsteady arm around your shoulder as Frankie tips his bottle against his lips. He’s swaying, dragging you left and right with him as if you’re on a boat.

“He’s…he’s always been the best outta us all,” Will slurs, using his bottle to point at Frankie. “’s why he’s such a good pilot. Good aim.”

You sigh, pushing his heavy arm off yourself and slip back over to Mal, who hands you a sad smile and fixes your hair.

“It was a good attempt,” she says.

“Oh, shut up,” you reply, tossing your bottle up and draining the last of it onto your tongue. “I need another drink.”

You cross the room, suddenly less blurry and tilted, more boring and flat, and lean over the bar. “Nick,” you call, and he twists around, “grab me another–”

“It’s alright, Nick,” a voice yells over your shoulder, “I think she’s good.”

You spin around and it’s that stupid fucking baseball cap and the stupid denim button up again.

“What, I’m not allowed to drink now?”

Frankie’s head cocks. “You don’t think you’ve had enough?”

“I’ve had three. Three beers. The fuck is your problem?”

He tuts, glances left and right, and then back to you. “I think I should get you home.”

“I think you should mind your business.”

“Are you this fucking difficult with everyone when you’re drunk?”

“Nope,” you beam at him, “just you.”

He lets go of the grip he has on your arm and starts backing away. “I’m leaving, baby,” he tells you, nodding goodbye to Nick. “You’re either coming, or Pope’s gonna hear all about it.”

You ball your fists, watching the door swing closed behind him. Your feet stay rooted to the ground, eyes flitting from the parking lot over to Mal, who lifts her arms in a question. You shake your head in response, and her shoulders drop.

Sorry, you mouth, beginning to walk off in Frankie’s footsteps.

Mal blows you a kiss, winks once, and then salutes you goodbye. You shoulder out of the bar.

The ride back to your parents’ place is silent, except for the dull drone of whatever fucking music Frankie has choking out of his radio. You watch your hometown pass by, never taking your eyes off of the blurry streetlights or passing mailboxes, refusing to turn your head further than the middle of the windscreen at him.

He’s humming along to the song, jaw swinging as he chews on gum, arm hanging out of his open window. Everything he does is so fucking irritating, like a constant buzzing in your ear, an eyelash stuck in your eye, the feeling of stepping on a wet floor in socks.

So why, every time you do sneak a glance of him out of your peripheral, does the sight of those focused brown eyes, the strands of gray in his beard, the way his curls flick under the brim of his cap – why does it all stir something inside of you?

Frankie pulls up across the street from your house, white wood a milky blue in the moonlight. You unbuckle your seatbelt and let the strap whip off of your body, rattling against the interior of the truck. The most you’re willing to offer him is a nod of the head in thanks, which he returns, and your fingers hook around the door latch.

“Hey, mind if I come in ‘n use your bathroom?” he asks.

You pause. “Uh, yeah. I mind. No.”

“Come on, baby, I gotta piss like a racehorse.”

You scoff, ignoring him and slip down out of the truck. The door slams closed and you wander over to your parents’ drive, hearing a second slam as you cross the street.

“Uh, where do you think you’re going?”

“If your mom knew you weren’t letting me use her bathroom, she’d kill you, ‘n you know it.”

“My mom doesn’t know you like I know you, asshole,” you retort, but he’s still following you to the front door. “Just – alright. Do me a favor and disinfect it once you’re done. I don’t need them coming home to piss all over the floor.”

“You think my aim’s that bad? Just schooled you in a game of pool.”

You sigh, refusing to rise, and open the door. There’s the gentle scuffing of claws on the wooden flooring, trotting nearer and nearer in the dark hallway, and then the weight of your childhood dog shoves into your body.

“Hi, Angie. Hi, girl,” you whisper, scratching the dog’s white fur, her front paws against your tummy.

She jumps down when Frankie slips in behind you, wandering over with her tail swinging back and forth. He crouches down and holds his hand out, cooing, “Hi, baby,” as she nuzzles against his palm.

“She likes most folks who come by,” you utter, hanging your coat over the banister. “Don’t think you’re special.”

“She always loved me most,” he says, still fussing over the pup, “didn’t you, girl? Yeah, yeah you did.”

You roll your eyes and wander upstairs, leaving Frankie to find the bathroom, use it, and fuck off on his own.

It’s been almost eight years since you last lived here, but your room still looks oddly similar. Same bedframe, different sheets. Same wallpaper, only not covered in posters of your favorite bands. Same shelves, too, just that they hold stuff like vases and seashells and other random ornaments your mom’s picked up, rather than a collection of your favorite movies or framed photos of you and your friends.

You pull your dress over your shoulders and kick your boots off, grabbing a tee from your bag to sleep in. The Nirvana logo lies loose across your chest, the hem dancing along the line of your panties.

As you kneel on the mattress, tossing the million and one fucking pillows your mom has stacked down to the foot of the bed, you hear the door creak open.

“Damn,” Frankie mutters, glancing around the room, “haven’t been in here since I was, what, seventeen?”

“Weren’t welcome then, still not welcome now.”

“You still got that Black Eyed Peas poster rolled up somewhere?” He’s walking in, boots scuffing along the wooden floor.

“Are you lost?”

He looks over to you, stood by the bed, t-shirt barely reaching your thighs. “You know something, you ‘n your brother are so fucking different, it amazes me you’re related.”

“I imagine there’s a lot that amazes you, dumbass.”

He scoffs. There’s a hint of genuine humor in it. Like he’s impressed. And then his eyes scan down your body, lingering on the bare skin of your legs, shifting up to the pink cotton of your panties. They shoot back up when you speak again.

“Seriously, dude. What are you still doing here?”

Frankie turns to the dresser by the window, adorned with framed pictures of you and Santi as kids. “Making sure you get home alright, like Pope told me to.”

“Well,” you shrug, “I’m home, ‘n I’m alright. So…”

He picks up a silver frame; inside, faded by the sun and years that have passed, lives a photograph of you and your brother. He’s on his BMX bike, wide, toothless grin, and you’re behind him, standing on the pegs and gripping onto his t-shirt sleeves as you battle not to fall off.

Frankie laughs a little, turning the frame to show you. “You were always so fuckin’ annoying, you know that?” And then, with a shake of his head as he sets the frame back down, “Still are.”

You cock your head, throwing your hands up with an infuriated sigh. “If I’m so annoying, then why are you still here?”

The look he gives when he turns back around answers that question for you, in a way that his words never could. Never would, to be honest. He’d never admit the thoughts running through his head right now, same as you won’t admit that, likewise, they’re running through yours.

It’d be fucking weird. It’d be wrong, hooking up with his best friend’s little sister. Santi only asked him to get you home safe, not follow you inside, walk straight into your bedroom, look at you the way he’s looking at you right now, silhouetted by the streetlight shining through your still-open shades.

So then, why can’t he walk away?

You make to step forward, and Frankie’s already moving. He meets you halfway, stood on some fancy-looking rug your mom probably spent too much money on, his arms instantly finding your waist underneath your short tee.

“You fuckin’ piss me off, you know that?”

“I know,” you breathe, bottom lip brushing against his, “I know.”

He pushes you backward, sends you stumbling across the floor on your toes until the back of your calves hit the mattress and you fall, dragging him down on top of you. You knock the baseball cap from his head and run your hands through his brown curls, pulling him nearer as his hands begin to move north under the worn cotton of your shirt.

His rough hands cup your breasts, kneading and pinching your nipples as his lips fall to your neck, sucking a bruise into your soft skin.

“Frankie,” you breathe, “what the fuck are we–?”

“Shut up,” he whispers back, teeth grazing over your collarbone. He’s moving down, kissing over your tee as he goes, until he’s kneeling on the floor, your legs dangling off the bed either side of his body.

You push yourself up onto your elbows, watching him as he presses fleeting kisses to the insides of your thighs, making his way closer and closer to your center, covering ground painfully slow.

“Would you – just – fucking – get there?” you ask, head tilting back with a groan.

“Always so fucking impatient,” he mutters, pulling your legs further apart. “Makes sense, though,” he whispers, finger hooking around your underwear, “already so wet.”

“Dick,” you hiss, laying back flat on the bed.

Frankie holds the lace off of your core and then dips his jaw, lips lightly ghosting across your folds. You hum with a mixture of pleasure and annoyance, ready to buck your hips up to him if it’ll just make him move faster.

But you don’t have to wait a second longer. He licks one broad stripe up your center, pressing one chaste kiss to your clit before his tongue dips where you need him most. Your legs go to clamp shut, stopped by his shoulders.

“Fuck, Frankie,” you moan, hand coming down to knot your fingers in his hair.

He hums against your pussy, tongue lapping inside you, nose at the perfect angle for you to rut your clit against.

“Fuck…” you repeat, and he fucking laughs against you. “Quit it,” you hiss, and he lifts his head.

Your eyes shoot open, finding his. Alarmed meeting cool.

“Fine,” he says, smirking. “I’ll quit it.”

“Don’t you fucking– Frankie.”

“Your words, baby.” He shrugs, eyes flitting down to your cunt, soaked under his touch.

“I didn’t mean it,” you moan. “Why are you such a fucking asshole?”

He looks back up. The corners of his mouth pull his smirk into a grin. Some devilish grin, thick with arrogance.

“I’m an asshole,” he echoes, elastic of your panties shifting up to his knuckles.

He watches your cunt as he does it. Runs two fingers between your folds, coating them in your arousal, dipping them deeper until they’re at your entrance.

Your head hits the bed heavily, your body writhing over the white sheets as he pushes closer and closer. His free hand comes up and pushes down on your tummy, holding you steady to the mattress, then –

“I’m the asshole.”

He inserts his fingers, curled, thick, stretching you out over his hand as he pushes in deep. A gasp passes through your lips, exchanging itself for a throaty moan when Frankie begins fucking you on his hand, lowering his lips to your clit again.

His wrist pumps in and out, tongue swirling over the swollen bud, palm pushing harder into your stomach to keep you from upsetting his rhythm with how badly you want to move around.

Your fingers lock a vice grip around his hair, your hips the only part of your body he’ll let you move. You establish a pace of your own, fucking up to meet his fingers, grinding yourself on his wet tongue.

“I’m close,” you pant, Nirvana logo distorted in ruffles at the base of your neck. “So fucking close, Frankie.”

And he can feel it. Feel you tightening around his hand, feel the rhythm of your hips start to miss beats, move clockwise instead of up and down. He can hear as your mouth stops rounding the words, fading into slurs and breaths and moans instead of coherent language.

“F-Frankie,” you cry out, and it’s like music to his ears. “’m there, I’m–”

“On my mouth, baby,” he mutters, withdrawing his fingers and replacing them with his lips again, tongue pushing inside you as you fall apart all over him.

Your back lifts from the bed, fists ball around his hair, pushing his face even harder against your cunt as you ride out your high. You’re moaning his name over and over, echoing off the walls of your little room, escaping out the door and swirling around the hallway.

If you could hear yourself, or cared enough to try, you’d feel fucking embarrassed at what you’re doing – coming apart under Frankie’s touch. It’s Frankie.

The same Frankie you started an argument with one Fourth of July over which was better: ketchup or mustard; the two of you spitting insults over the striped tablecloth, obscene hand gestures being thrown up over plates of burgers.

The same Frankie who’d found out it was you who drew on the wall, and from that day on used it as leverage anytime you set a foot out of line. Used it to shut you up, anytime you so much as thought about talking back, or ratting on the boys.

You’re supposed to hate him. Ask anyone – Santi, Mal, your parents. They’ll all say the same. Like cat and dog.

And yet, here you are. Begging him not to stop, keep his hands and his mouth on you; gasping for breath when he eventually lifts away from you and you collapse back into the bed.

You glance down from under heavy lids, watching as he kisses your thighs again, slowly bringing you back to the room. His chin’s glistening, covered in your cum, beard soaked in you.

You slowly sit up, holding yourself steady with two palms pushed into the mattress. Frankie readjusts your underwear and sits back on his heels, running a hand down his chin and wiping himself clean.

“That was…” you pant, waiting for him to finish the sentence.

He just nods, breathing heavy himself. “Yeah.”

“I gotta…I gotta let…Ange out,” you say, words swaddled by your breath.

Frankie nods again. “I should go.”

You stand at the same time, straightening up face to face. His right side is lit warmly by your bedside lamp, the brown of his eye reflecting a tiny yellow orb back at you; the left side is darker, flecks of hair lit in the pale light from the street, face dark and unreadable. Like he’s two different people, split down the middle now, a before and after.

You’re staring at one another, mapping every inch of the other’s face. Learning it, like it’s new. Like you’ve never really seen each other until right now.

And then he’s turning, picking his hat up from the floor in one swooping motion, and walking out of your bedroom. A deep sigh passes your lips as he goes, relief mixed with satisfaction. And then you follow.

Angie circles him when his boots thud down from the bottom step. He bends to give her more attention, waiting for you to softly pad down alongside him. The dog trots off toward the kitchen, and he turns to you.

He’s back to his unphased self, jaw circling around the gum that he’s still fucking chewing. “Two drinks you owe me, now, lil Santi.”

You cock your head. “Hm?”

“One for showing your ass at pool, ‘n another for that.”

“Get the fuck out of my house, Morales.”

He snorts, wandering off down the hall. You spin on your heel and follow the sound of Ange scraping the back door, throwing a glance over your shoulder.

Frankie meets your eye, and like a reflex, the pair of you toss the finger to one another. He laughs, stepping out onto the porch.

“Anytime you feel like losing again, you know where I am, baby.”

----------

taglist: @serenaxpedro @bitchwitch1981 @brittmb115 @stormseyer @scarletthefierce @pattwtf @pascalpvnk @jediknightjana @mrsquill @uncassettodiricordi @gracieispunk @hellishjoel

(lmk if i’ve missed you out & check my taglist info for how to be added!)

#frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales fic #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales smut #francisco morales #bbf!frankie #bbf!frankie morales #pedro pascal #pedro pascal frankie morales #pedro pascal characters #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #enemies to lovers #frankie morales enemies to lovers

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viperixsworld · 5 months

Text

GUTS, luke castellan x oc(prologue)

summary: where an aphordite daugther falls for this lying hermes boy.

disclaimer: english is not my firt language.

We don't get to choose who we fall in love with.

Arianne knew that. She believed it to her core. Love was something magical and illogical. Her own father, said it when he told her about her mom. Apparently, she was a beautiful young woman that crossed paths with Nicholas Deveraux (her father) during his travels in Europe before officially settle down in the family business in Chicago.

Everyone expected that Nicholas would come back from Europe with a bad tan and a few souvenirs, not a freaking newborn baby daugther.

Nicholas was a loving father, but not a really smart man. That is It's one of the reasons she didn't question when a man showed up at her Chicago home, offering her only daughter a scholarship to a prestigious boarding school.

Arianne came to camp half-blood when she was thirteen years old. After some encounters with several monsters, Chiron himself went to her doorstep in Chicago to get her to camp.

Nevertheless, during her arrival there was an incident. An incident involving three more demigod, a satire and a cyclops.

Arianne was claimed a few weeks after the attack, same as the two demigos that survived. Luke Castellan, son of Hermes, and Annabeth Chase, daugther of Atenea.

And let me tell you, Arianne Deveraux didn't choose to fall for the son of the Traveler. It was fate, or maybe was her mother ? She wasn't really sure. They started off as friends, adapting to camp at same time, being the same age, having the same friends.

Arianne was a nice, generous and beautiful girl, she was the perfect definition of an Aphordite daugther. Everyone that knew her personally (and even those who didn't) held her close to their hearts. Knowing that if you had to trust someone, you could trust Arianne Deveraux.

It was also a flaw, being the goodie older sister of Camp Half-blood.

At sixteen, she was named captain of Aphordite cabin. At the same time, Luke Castellan was named captain of Hermes cabin. They started to spend more time together, attending bonefire together, sparring together... Then the gifts started, Luke liked how her eyes would shine everytime she opened a present, no matter how stupid or simple. He would get her little details, It was his way of showing love, his love language, and her siblings would beg her to ask Luke to please, please, get them things for the cabin.

On the othet hand, Arianne would be (even without her knowing) the best of the presents for Luke. She was kind and beautiful, and gave him all the attetion he craved. And even Annabeth liked her, and would let her do her hair when she was tired. She was a part of their little, broken family.

Sometimes, Ari would cover up for Luke, when he sneak out to get things for other half-bloods and for himself. Like a PlayStation or some chess board for Annabeth, or his little presents for Ari.

Sometimes, Luke would sneak her in the Big House, to use the phone to talk to her father.

Every friday night, the would sit in the shore of the lake, to talk about everything or to be completly silent. Every time the scar on Luke's face hurt, Ari would stay by his side and try to ease the pain. Every time Ari felt like the stress of carring everyones problems and her owns, Luke was there to relieve her.

They were partners in crime, always there for each other.

That, until an enemy emerges from the shadows and resentment.

That, until one betrays the other.

Until Arianne Deveraux feels love and hate in her guts.

#luke castellan x oc #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #pjo show #pjo series #pjo #luke castellan #arianne deveraux

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cooliestghouliest · 1 year

Text

pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

plot summary: It’s Eddie’s birthday! He said no presents but you said fuck that. He’s getting two.

word count: 4k+

cw: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI; this is smut; porn with plot; Eddie being mean to Gareth; handjobs and blowjobs and Gareth unknowingly being a bystander of both; there’s some cum stuff in here, too.

notes: set in early 1990s. reader and Eddie are both in early/mid 20s. let’s pretend the PlayStation had co-op online gaming so this story makes sense. a part two may be in store. let me know what you think. 😈

Working overtime at The Hideout was not something you necessarily wanted to do, but with Eddie’s birthday coming up, it was something you had to do.

As much as you would have liked them to, bills wouldn’t simply pause just because you wanted to save money to buy Eddie a PlayStation. No, you had to use your math-inept brain to start budgeting, getting some help from Steve, who’d just recently been hired to work at a local accounting firm.

While you were hoping Steve would magically find money hidden somewhere in your finances, you were annoyed but not surprised at his only solution:

“You need to pick up more shifts.”

You and Eddie had moved into an apartment just outside of Hawkins after Eddie had finally graduated, you having helped him through that dreaded English class so you could both walk the stage together. That had been three years ago now. Money was tight, sure, but the two of you never went without the essentials. There was always dinner to be had, clothes to be worn, cable to be watched.

Between you bartending and trying to get a degree part-time, and Eddie dealing and working at the auto shop part-time, you both managed to make just enough to stay afloat.

Sometimes Eddie would score a few hundred playing a gig with Corroded Coffin, and he’d use that to wine and dine you like the fancy little lady you were. His words, not yours. You knew Eddie liked to spoil you. You knew he hated he couldn’t do it more.

Many stoned late night conversations had been had between the two of you where he fantasized aloud about taking you country to country once the band made it big, fucking you in soft, plush, expensive hotel beds, and spoon feeding you gelato while watching the sunset on a balcony, your bodies wrapped in silk, name-embroidered robes.

Eddie was a total lush at heart. The most broke rich man you’d ever met. You assumed this was because he came from virtually nothing. You didn’t need everything he wanted to give you, but he made it clear on more than one occasion that once money wasn’t a barrier, he would treat you like a queen.

You felt like he already did.

This is why you sucked up the hatred you had for The Hideout and told Roy, your boss, you’d work whatever shifts he could give you for the next few weeks. You endured handfuls of handsy truck drivers, pretended to flirtatiously banter with beyond drunk bikers, and held back the powerful urge to gag while stroking the egos of middle aged business men who chose to go through their midlife crisis in a seedy, dimly lit bar.

Seeing the look on Eddie’s face when you slid the wrapped package across the small dining table in your kitchen made all of the extra hours of rum pouring and forced salacious smiles worth it.

He had been mid-sentence, talking about a client at the auto shop who he’d spent an hour after hours with, the guy telling him all about medieval torture devices. This didn’t surprise you. Eddie’s fascination with the macabre was one of the things that had drawn the two of you together in the first place.

The first time you’d officially met was in English class your junior year, his third senior year. You’d told him you lived in a funeral home because your dad was a generational mortician, and that one day you’d probably own and operate it once your father retired. You also told him your mom was a self-proclaimed psychic who held seances for family members of the dead following their services. Eddie open-mouth stared at you for at least an entire minute in silence before telling you that was the creepiest fucking thing he’d ever heard, and that he would never feel fulfilled in life until you invited him over so he could experience it all firsthand.

The rest is history.

“What is this?” Eddie asked, brown eyes wide as he observed the gift in front of him.

“I know we said no presents this year so we can save for the new car, but... you know how I had all those late night study groups I had to go to this semester?”

He nodded, long fingers toying with the black parchment wrapping paper.

“Weeeeeell, actually, I was working overtime at The Hideout,” you admitted, pulling your bottom lip into your mouth. You knew he wasn’t going to be happy to hear you hadn’t been honest this past month, but you figured once he saw what you’d bought him (and what you’d had planned for the rest of the night), maybe he’d decide to let bygones be bygones. Not likely, as Eddie thoroughly enjoyed teaching you lessons as punishment for bad behavior, and you figured lying for weeks on end about attending study groups qualified as pretty bad behavior. You rushed out the next few sentences, smiling innocently and tilting your head to try and appear as cute as you possibly could, “It was so I could buy you that. For your birthday. Happy birthday, Eddie. Love you.”

Eddie’s brows lifted toward his hairline at your admittance, slow blinking a few times as your confession set in.

“We are definitely going to revisit all that at a later point,” Eddie warned, a ringed finger pointing at you. “Because that is so not okay. But -- ” he couldn’t help the excited, boyish grin that enveloped his features. “I really wanna open this and see what it is.”

You giggled in excitement at his eagerness, drumming your fingers on the table. “Okay, come on! Open it!” You would enjoy these few hours of spoiling him as he so frequently spoiled you, and you’d worry about whatever punishment he’d dole out when it came later.

And right now, the look of elation on his face as he unwrapped the PlayStation was worth however many studded belt spankings or denied orgasms you had in your near future.

“Fuck! Baby! No way!” he practically squealed, jumping up from the chair. It fell to the ground behind him with a clatter, but he paid no mind. He held the gaming console above him in awe. “You’re fucking kidding!”

“No, no kidding,” you answered, even though you knew his words were rhetorical. You could feel your cheeks growing sore with the smile stretched across your face, basking in his reaction. “There’s a real PlayStation in there, I swear.”

He laughed and protectively cradled the console under his arm, hurrying to you to slam his lips against yours in a kiss. No tongue, but plenty of fervor. “God, I fucking love you,” he muttered, placing small kisses on your nose and cheeks. “I mean, I’d fucking love you even if you got me nothing, or just, like, socks or something, but, shit, baby, this is -- I have to call Gareth! We can play King’s Field together now!”

A laugh bubbled out of your lips at his sudden change in direction, knowing Eddie was always at the whim of his impulses. You watched as he ran off to the living room to make the call. You knew Gareth would be waiting for it, as you’d told him to make sure he didn’t have plans on Eddie’s birthday, so the two of them could spend it playing the multiplayer game together late into the night.

It was all part of your grander birthday plan.

You waited until you heard Eddie’s voice rambling off to Gareth in the living room, the sounds of him unboxing the console to start to hook it up mingled into his conversation, before you disappeared into your bedroom to change.

Phase one, complete, success. Phase two, final phase, commence.

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

It was about twenty minutes later when you reemerged from the bedroom, wearing nothing but a newly bought matching blood red bra and panty set. It was solid colored with black lace outlining the rim of both pieces, flattering against your skin tone.

Eddie was sitting on the edge of the La-Z-Boy, headset mussing down his wild curls, talking animatedly to Gareth about the skeletons they were currently fighting on the screen.

“No, no! Go left, go left! God damnit, Gareth, do you know what your left is?!”

Eddie was loud and mouthy enough as it is, but add in a game where he had the ability to lose and the whole apartment complex would be banging on their door come tomorrow morning with noise complaints. Hell hath no fury like a twenty-something man’s confidence in his pretend battling skills.

While some might find it annoying, you found Eddie’s unbridled passion for everything he was interested in endearing. He was someone who let himself be totally engulfed by the plot of a movie or a game or a story, attaching himself to the characters and their the ups and downs as if they were tangible and could be found in his own everyday life.

You were happy for his distraction as it gave you time to compose yourself and slowly stalk your way to the center of the living room, where the chair sat directly across from the TV.

By the time you made your way to the side of the La-Z-Boy, finally coming into Eddie’s peripheral vision, he was still berating Gareth for his poor sense of direction.

“I mean, what the hell, Gare, we learned our lefts and rights in, like -- oh, fuck.”

You’d brought you hand out to trail down the exposed skin of Eddie’s arm, watching it goosebump in your wake. He’d taken his shirt off at some point, much to your appreciation. Eddie’s attention was fully on you now, as was evident from his failed completed sentence to Gareth, who you could now hear through Eddie’s headset going, “Oh, fuck? What? What, oh fuck? You don’t even know how to talk, Munson.”

But Gareth went unheard by Eddie, who’s eyes were drinking in the sight of you in your lingerie set. His tongue darted out to lick at his lower lip, which he then pulled into his mouth to sink his top teeth into.

You offered him a playful smile, watching as his neck began to turn red, the color almost a perfect match for the satin set you had on.

Without a word, you dropped to your knees on the carpet in front of him, sitting between his legs.

“What -- what are you doing?” he managed to choke out.

Gareth’s voice through the headset: “What? Dude, I’m fucking going left like you told me to!”

“Shut up, Gareth,” Eddie warned, his brown eyes now full of fire for the sight before him.

He brought one hand to cover the mouthpiece of his headset, the other placing the controller on his lap to reach out and cradle your face. You leaned into it.

“What are you doing, baby?” Eddie asked again, but he knew. Especially from the wicked grin you were giving him now.

“Just play your game, Eddie,” you whispered, careful to be quiet so Gareth didn’t hear. You moved your head to rest your cheek on his thigh, staring up at him with big doe eyes as you brought the fingers of one hand to lightly trace the line of his zipper. “And don’t get caught. We don’t want Gareth to know what a bad girl I’m being, playing with your cock while you play with him.”

His breath caught in his throat. He couldn’t believe it.

Not only had you gotten him exactly what he’d been wanting since it came out that prior winter, but now you were going to suck him off while he played it?

Jesus, how did he get so lucky?

“You are a fucking minx,” Eddie said, voice stern but his face lighting up in satisfaction as he readjusted himself on the chair, spreading his legs a bit wider.

He dropped the hand from the headset and picked the controller back up again just as Gareth was saying, “Eddie, man, are you still there? Your character’s been standing in the same place for, like, five minutes.”

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

Sucking dick was not only one of your favorite things to do, but it was one of the things you were best at.

You prided yourself on how quickly you could work Eddie into a panting frenzy, how easy it was for him to lose control in your mouth, thrusting his hips to force you to take what you could and to choke back the rest.

But tonight you were taking it slow. Slow and sloppy. And you weren’t letting him do any of the work.

You’d only pulled his cock from his jeans, leaving his balls in the confines of the tight denim. You’d used so much spit that the fabric of his pants was soaking through to his boxer briefs. You watched his face intently as one of your hands wrapped around the thickness of him, stroking upwards in long, drawn out movements. You could tell he was trying to jerk his hips up but was failing, as your other hand was pressed into his side, trying its hardest to keep his body weight back against the chair.

“Greedy,” you scolded, clicking your tongue to the roof of your mouth.

He smiled sheepishly, eyes meeting yours over his hands which were holding the controller against his chest. He stopped the movement of his hips even though he felt as if it physically pained him to do so.

You’d been working him with your hands and mouth for the better part of half an hour now, releasing him entirely any time he came close to coming. He’d let a whine out at one point, to which Gareth asked, “Dude, you good?” and Eddie had to scramble out in his lust addled brain an excuse as to why that type of noise had erupted from him. He didn’t even remember what he’d said to explain it away.

All Eddie wanted to do was come. He wanted to cover you in him, drench your face and chest as you’d drenched his pants and cock in your warm saliva. He kept picturing it in his head, in alarmingly graphic detail, which was making this video game very, very hard to concentrate on.

Eddie got the idea that maybe if you neared your breaking point too, he’d finally be allowed to come. His cock throbbed at the thought, a bead of precum oozing from his slit. You sucked it away. He groaned and rolled his eyes back, controller wobbling in his hand and threatening to fall to the floor.

Taking a deep breath, he steadied his grip again, pressing a few random assortments of buttons to make Gareth think he was still coherent and definitely not getting a blowjob from his girlfriend right now.

“Will you please play with yourself?” Eddie asked, trying to put forth his best pleading puppy dog eyes. This was his big plan. Get you to get yourself off so he could sneak his orgasm in there, too.

He clearly had forgotten to cover the mouthpiece because Gareth’s voice was incredulous on the other end.

“What the fuck, Munson? What do you mean? I can’t play with myself! We’re almost at the end, man! Don’t give up now!”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips, your head falling back for a moment at the exasperation in Gareth’s voice. Gareth was none the wiser, but just so you felt better, you made a mental note to buy him something nice or bake him those cookies you knew he liked, just for being such an unknowingly good sport during all of this.

Sticking your tongue out a bit, you bit down on the fleshy muscle in your mouth before rising more on your knees, leaning closer to Eddie. With the hand that was previously pushing his hips down, you covered his mouthpiece. “Is this a game you can win?” you asked. Your hand had stopped stroking now, and your fingers were instead running light pressured circles around the head of his weeping cock.

“Wha -- what? Uh, yeah... yeah, I can win,” Eddie stumbled, attention off the game momentarily to watch your hot little mouth move. “Just... fuck up a few more skeletons...”

“Okay,” you said, hand tightening on his member again, this time sliding it down slowly, twisting as you went. He hissed, trying to lean forward to capture your mouth with his own. You backed away, falling back down to your bottom as you continued playing with him in your hand. “Then win and I’ll let you come.”

Eddie huffed, trying to thrust his hips up for more friction but was stopped by your hand reclaiming its spot on his pelvis again, pushing him back down. If he wanted, he could absolutely overpower you. He could grab your wrists and pull you up into his lap, sliding the side of your panties over with one hand before impaling you on his wanting cock. He knows you’d let him. But he likes when you get like this, thinking you’re in control. It makes it all that much better when he finally flips the script and has you teary eyed begging for him to let you come.

“Gareth, I swear to fucking god, if we don’t win this game in the next three minutes, I’m never speaking to you again.”

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

It takes longer than three minutes, and it’s not because of Gareth.

Eddie keeps screwing up, pressing X when he should be pressing O; spamming the start button to bring up the game menu when you take him particularly deep into your throat; accidentally stabbing Gareth’s character with a sword instead of the skeleton because his eyes keep rolling into the back of his head with the words spilling from your filthy mouth.

It’s all, “tastes so good, Eddie,” and “can’t even fit you all in my mouth,” and “I’m dripping on the floor, want you so bad.”

Evil woman.

Evil, perfect woman.

Eddie sees a light at the end of the tunnel. Literally. In the game, the hallway he and Gareth had been running down is opening into the brightness of a lit arena. It’s the final stage. One more fucking skeleton and he can let go. He can turn this headset off and grunt and groan to his heart’s content without having to worry about Gareth thinking he’s a fucking creep.

“I’m almost there...” Eddie’s saying, and he’s kind of talking about winning the game, but is mostly talking about the orgasm he can feel tightening in his balls, swirling in his stomach, clenching in his thighs.

“Yeah, dude! We got this!”

Eddie does not want to hear Gareth’s voice right now. He wants to hear you, pretty and whiny, loving the noises you make when you make him come. He loves how much you love it. You’re not even the one coming, but you’re always right there with him, moaning about how good his warm seed feels inside you or all over you, wherever he decides to finish. You’re not picky.

Just then, Eddie jolts forward in the chair. The head of his hard length hits the back of your throat and you cough a little, sputtering as you move your head. Looking back over your shoulder at the TV screen, hand moving up and down Eddie’s slippery cock, you see the words 'YOU WIN' in radioactive green.

“Fuuuuuuck, yes!” Eddie shouts, throwing the controller in the air. He rips off the headset without saying goodbye to Gareth, dropping it to the ground as he turns his attention back to you.

He looks absolutely wrecked. Black bangs are clung to his forehead with sweat, his chest is heavy with labored breaths, his skin is tinged pink from being so worked up and then worked back down over and over for the past hour. He can’t believe he hasn’t accidentally came yet. He assumes it’s because his mind was preoccupied with the game, because now that his full attention is on you, remembering what you’re wearing, what you’re doing, and how you look so fucking good doing it, he doesn’t think he’s going to last.

“Baby, please, I wanna come,” he’s saying, bringing one hand to the back of your head, tangling it in your hair. He’s not guiding you or helping at all, doesn’t want to be in control yet, he just wants to touch you, needs to have his hands on you somehow. “I won, did you see, I won, I get to come, right? Please make me come...”

You bit back a self-satisfied look at his pleading, bringing both hands now to wrap around the length of him. It doesn’t need it, already soaking from being in your mouth, but you let a string of spit fall onto the head of his cock, making your hands glide even easier over the velvety hardness of him. You can feel him throbbing, his hips finally able to rock up into your touch.

“Are you gonna make me all messy, Eddie?” you ask, tilting your head down to look up at him with wide, faux innocent eyes.

He’s nodding, thrusts finding no rhythm, just trying to reach release. “Yeah, baby, you love it when I cover you in my come, get you all wet and sticky...”

“Uh-huh. Love when you help me clean it up, too.”

And that’s what does it.

Eddie let out a stilted moan, one that changed octaves, and he’s coming harder than he thinks he’s ever come before.

Thick ropes of white hit your cheeks, your chin, your neck, your chest.

You gasped at the contact, then let out a moan that made his toes curl into the carpet, licking your lips to catch anything that landed in tongue distance.

He watches it all. His eyes threaten to close but fuck no, he loves to see you get marked by him in the most primal of ways. Loves to watch his cock paint the prettiest portrait on you.

He brought his hand down to help you stroke him through it, wanting to feel your smaller fingers on his cock as he rode out his high.

Then he gave you what you love, helping you clean it up. He bent his head down and ran his tongue across your hot skin, scooping up as much of his release as he could. He grabbed you by the chin, pulling down until your mouth opened before spitting into your mouth, watching as you let it sit for a moment before closing your mouth and swallowing, your eyes heavy with arousal at his actions.

“Mmmm,” you sound, smiling dopily. You kissed at his lips, your hand still slowly stroking him as he softened.

He licked at your bottom lip before his tongue moved into your mouth and against yours, pulling you into his lap. You melted into his touch, becoming boneless flesh in his arms. He groaned at the feeling of your wet, clothed cunt pressed against his lower stomach. He hadn’t even touched you -- you hadn’t even touched yourself -- and yet you were still so slick for him.

That thought alone was enough to cause his cock to twitch, and he thanked the sex gods or whoever was in charge for gracing him with stamina tonight of all nights.

“Best,” kiss to your nose, “birthday,” kiss to your chin, “ever,” kiss to your lips.

You smiled against his lips, humming happily at his admission. This was exactly how you planned the night going. Surprise Eddie with a PlayStation and an explosive orgasm.

Then he just had to go and throw a curveball.

“I’ll be good to go in twenty minutes,” he conceded, fingers running featherlight down your bare back. “Then we’ll see what we’re gonna do about that lying mouth of yours.”

Damn it. The study groups. He remembered. Part of you hoped you’d sucked all the sense out of him, but apparently not.

“Mean,” you pouted.

Eddie’s eyes flashed wickedly, a lazy grin stretching across his face.

“Oh, I will be.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader

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princessbrunette · 4 months

Note

can u please do a "youre not john bs girlfriend but.." to complete the trinity 🙏

𐙚🐇⋆.˚❆

you’re not john b’s girlfriend but…

he still repeatedly tells you “no, you’re not coming with us today. i — i told you it’s too dangerous and if anything happens to you i will quite literally never forgive myself. just stay home, okay? i’ll see you later i swear.” only for you to show up anyways, the boy grumpily tugging you about and reprimanding you when you trip or get hurt because he told you so. despite everything, he’ll sigh and wipe up your cuts and scrapes, pressing a bandaid on it and tell you you’re a ‘good girl’ for sitting still.

he still stares at you with the biggest brown puppy dog eyes when you’re laying on his board in the gentle waves, your eyes closed as you bask in the sun. he holds the board steady, standing beside it in the water making sure you don’t float adrift, thinking about how you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.

he’s still constantly offering you his portion of food if he thinks you haven’t eaten, telling you he doesn’t need it and he’s used to going hungry so he doesn’t mind. you get him to compromise by letting you feed him fries, giggling adorably and giving him an excuse to sit all close with you, which he doesn’t mind at all.

he still kisses your forehead and wipes your tears away everytime you cry, making you feel super guilty because you just can’t stand his worrying. he gets all puppy dog eyed, brow creasing as he watches you quietly, brain wracking with ideas on how he can make it all better.

he still lets you sit on his lap as he looks over maps, because of course there’s only one chair, duh — you’re being as helpful as you can — until of course you get bored, giggling and walking your fingers across the map like a person, making him bat your hand away distractedly as he continues reading quietly to himself out loud from a ripped out page he was studying. his serious attitude is a turn on, you won’t lie — but you must be careful! press your ass back against his crotch a few more times and he’ll turn you around and have you hump him then and there, chuckling teasingly when you cum in your panties, making a few jokey comments before going straight back to work.

he still lets you nap against his arm as he plays on the playstation at the chateau, a rare night when the group aren’t running around like headless chickens. he wears his hoodie and his cap, all warm and relaxed and just so easy to snuggle up to. you’d asked him if you could stay the night, not wanting to face your home just yet and ended up falling asleep on him, listening to him quietly hum in that smooth voice of his, thumbs moving against the joysticks.

he still teaches you how to fish, letting you lean back against his chest with his hands over yours on the rod— teasing you and telling you that the reason no fish are coming along is somehow your fault, just to hear you get all bratty and defend yourself because he thinks it’s cute.

he still always gets caught looking at your ass, but you’re so used to it that neither of you even say anything anymore.

he still lets you suck on his tongue when the two of you are bored and can’t sleep, giggling against each others mouths in the dark until it’s suddenly serious and his head is between your thighs making you cum.

he still gently scoops you up in his strong arms when he finds you sleeping in the hammock alone outside in the dark after you had a disagreement over something stupid like maps. “cant sleep out here, bub. skeeters.” he complains quietly to no one as he carries your sleeping body inside.

you’re not john b’s girlfriend, but he wishes you were.

𐙚🐇⋆.˚❆

#anon #john b prompt

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vivitalks · 14 days

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we don't talk about it enough but duck and billy's relationship in amnesty is truly a tragic one.

imagine: you rescue a mindless drone. you save his life, you give him autonomy, you give him language. you teach him trust. you protect him at your own expense. you name him billy. he knows three words in your language, and one is your name. you promise to keep him safe, and he betrays his programming to help you in return. he defies everything he was designed to do in order to aid you.

you save him from being a drone, but in doing so, you kill him. he was never supposed to be here this long. you gave him freedom at the cost of rapid decay, and now he's dying. and if he could just go back to his home planet, he would live, but he doesn't want to. because you're here. duck newton, his first friend, his savior, his guardian. you showed him that there is a better way to live - with free will, with pizza and playstations.

he's damned if he stays and damned if he goes. but you can't watch him suffer. that's not who you are. you're duck newton, local beefcake, defender of the disadvantaged. so you wait until he's engrossed in his video game - in humanity, in freedom of choice - and you strike him down out of mercy.

billy reverts to his original form: a four-armed being of light, once a drone, now a friend. he's beginning to disintegrate, but he has unfinished business here. he never finished his video game. and you give him one last gift of mercy: you lie to him. don't worry, you tell him - that character you're worried about? she's fine in the end. no, i know it seems bleak now, but she turns out okay.

you can't give him anything else, so you give him hope. it's the same thing he gave to you, all those months ago when you saved him.

#the adventure zone #the adventure zone amnesty #taz #taz amnesty #duck newton #this user is normal about duck newton. NORMAL ABOUT DUCK NEWTON #this time around i did not cry at ned's death but yknow what i DID cry at? BILLY DEATH SCENE!#also i had to research ff7/aerith in order to accurately write this post and guys the plot of amnesty seems to have some things in common #and aerith in particular or at least the way she dies seems to be very similar to billy's sitch #then again i dont play video games and idfk anything #so dont come for me #stuff #i know billy comes back and saves the day but EVEN STILL #this post is not supposed to be a shippy thing is anyone even out there shipping duck/billy i doubt it #that'd be WILD. but anyway. no this is just about the intense loyalty from an alien goatman and his savior duck newton

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alotofpockets · 5 months

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Stay the night | Wanda Maximoff

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Prompt: "The weather is getting worse. Why don't you stay the night?"

Masterlist | Marvel masterlist | Words: 1.7k

When Wanda moved into the neighborhood with her two sons a couple years ago, you had quickly befriended your new neighbor. Since then Wanda had become a good friend of yours and you’ve watched the boys a lot over the years, you often worked from home, so you offered to watch them whenever you could. Recently you and Wanda had started dating, everything was still rather new, and you hadn’t told Billy and Tommy yet, though Wanda was convinced they wouldn’t mind it since she knew that they already loved you.

It was Christmas Eve, you had just come back from the store, deciding that you could spoil yourself for Christmas. You bought yourself a PS5 after enjoying your PS4 for a long time. While you were installing the new Playstation, an idea popped into your head, so you reached for your phone to send Wanda a message. Y/n: Hi Wands, I just installed the new playstation, and I was wondering if maybe I could gift my PS4 to the boys. I know they always love playing on it when they are here. I wanted to run it by you first though, what do you think?

Wanda: You got it! I know you’ve been wanting it for a while, so I’m so happy for you :) I think the boys would absolutely love that but after all these Christmas expenses, I don’t think I have the money to buy it from you..

Y/n: Oh no, don’t be silly, a gift is free of charge x

You smile at your phone, Wanda was such a good person, and such a good mom.

Wanda: Are you sure? Y/n: Yeah, of course, 100%. I can bring it by tonight after the boys go to bed, that way you can put it under the tree. Does that work for you?”

Wanda: Thank you so much, you are the best. The boys are going to love it. I’ll text you when you can come over. See you tonight x

You pocket your phone and continue installing your new Playstation. The rest of the day goes by quickly, and you light up when you receive Wanda’s text. It had started raining a bit, so you grab your coat and an umbrella, before you make your way over to the Maximoff’s. You text Wanda to let her know that you’re at her door, not wanting to wake the kids. You smile when you hear Wanda’s footsteps reach the door, but your smile falters when you notice how stressed she looks. “Hey, sorry, I still have a lot of wrapping and preparing to do. Vision just dropped off some stuff for the boys, and left them all unwrapped, so I have to do double the wrapping tonight.” You reach out for her and bring her into a hug. “It’s going to be alright, I can help you wrap the gifts.”

Together you work on wrapping the gifts, making fast progress as a pile of red and green presents filled the bottom of the Christmas tree. Wanda was getting visibly less stressed now that you were there helping her out. Outside it started to rain harder, and the wind was picking up, neither one of you was paying much attention to it though, as your focus was on the presents and each other.

When you were done wrapping all the presents you took a little break before you would have to clean up the mess you had created in the living room. Wanda makes her way over to the couch, you follow her and pull her down with you. “You are an amazing mom, you know that right?” She leans her head on your shoulder. “Thank you, darling. You know that you are an amazing girlfriend, right?” You smile and kiss her head. “Yeah, we’re both pretty great.”

After sitting down for a moment, Wanda notices the weather outside, and turns to you. "The weather is getting worse. Why don't you stay the night?" Your brows furrow slightly. “Are you sure?” You had stayed the night before, but never when the boys were also home. “Yes, I know your house is closeby, but I’d rather not have you walk outside in this. Plus, I would love it if you spend Christmas with us, and I think the boys would too.” After placing another kiss onto her head, you tell her that you would love to spend Christmas with them as well.

Together you clean up the makeshift wrapping station that was the floor, as well as some final touches on the present placement, before heading to the kitchen where the boys left out some cookies and a glass of milk for Santa. The two of you share a look before both grabbing a cookie, and eating it, making sure to leave a lot of crumbs on the plate. Wanda takes a final look around the living room, “Ready?” You hold your hand out for her to take. She nods, “Yes, it looks beautiful. Thank you for all of your help.” She takes your hand, and you head to her room. “Any time.” You say with a soft squeeze to her hand.

Christmas morning started by the boys knocking loudly on Wanda’s door, “Mom, wake up! We want to see if Santa came.” Even though it was a rough wake up call, you smile at the eagerness of the twins. “Why don’t you go to the kitchen and check if he found the cookies and milk, and I will be right down to check out the tree with you boys.” After you hear them walk downstairs Wanda turns to you. “How do you want to do this?” She asks you. You place your hand on hers, “However you want to, I’ll follow your lead.” You share a quick kiss, before you both make your way downstairs in your Christmas pajamas.

“Mom, he ate the cookies!” Billy said as soon as Wanda reached the kitchen. The boys both run to hug her, not having noticed you yet. “That’s so exciting! I bet that means he left some presents for you as well.” The boys jump up and down excitedly. “Boys, before we head to the living room, I wanted to check with you both if it’s okay if y/n joins us for Christmas this year.” Both of their eyes widened, “Yes, please mommy, that would be so much fun.” Tommy shares. Their excitement warms your heart. “Merry Christmas!” You say walking down the rest of the stairs, they both come running into your arms. “You’re already here!”

You eat a quick bite before you check out the living room, a tradition Wanda created because she knew how much the boys would be into their toys later. As you are cleaning up the plates, Billy turns to Wanda. “Mom, we know that you and y/n are together, you don’t have to hide it from us. We just want to see you happy, and y/n makes you happy.” Wanda looks between her kids, they know? “You two sure are smart and observant, boys. So, you’re both okay with that?” They both nod, “Can we go check if there’s presents now?” Wanda smiles, “Yes, we can.”

Wanda shares a happy look with you before following the boys into the living room. The boys were ecstatic, looking at all the presents under the tree, pointing out the ones that had their names on them. You loved seeing the family so happy, and took a lot of pictures of the boys unwrapping the gifts, knowing that Wanda was too busy with living in the moment with her kids to do so.

“Mom, Santa left a present for you too!” Billy exclaimed, as he handed his mom a small box. Wanda was confused since she didn’t buy herself anything, wanting the focus to be on the boys. She unwraps the box and finds a jewelry case, filled with a beautiful necklace. She shows her kids and then also shows you, even though she knew that this was your doing, as it was the necklace that you saw her looking at last week when you were walking around the mall. “Thank you Santa!” She says, just like the boys do after opening their presents. “Help me put it on?” She asks you. You take the necklace from her hands and gently hang it around her neck. The boys had gone to find their next presents, so Wanda quickly thanked you for the gift. “It’s beautiful, thank you so much. I feel bad that I didn’t get you anything yet, I swear it was on my list, but I must’ve forgotten about it.” You shake your head and place a soft kiss on her shoulder, “You gave me the best gift, spending Christmas with you and the boys.”

After the boys are done unwrapping all of their presents, and have played with a few of them, you quietly ask Wanda if it’s okay to give your present to them now. She nods and you get their attention. “Hey boys, I know Santa has given you a lot of amazing presents, do you think you have room for one more present?” They both nod their heads like their life depends on it. You grab the present from the cupboard, “This is a gift from me.” You say as you place the present down on the coffee table. Both kids stand up to hug you and thank you, before even knowing what the gift was. They work quickly on opening the gift, eyes widening upon realization. “You’re giving us your PS4?” Tommy exclaims. “I am indeed. I think you will have a lot more fun with it here.”

You promise the boys to set up the Playstation tomorrow, wanting the boys to spend the day playing with the toys that their parents got them. While they are busy playing with their new toys, Wanda takes you to the kitchen. “Merry Christmas, darling. Thank you so much, I’m so happy you joined us for Christmas.” You step into her open arms and wrap your arms around her waist. “Merry Christmas.” You say back and kiss her lips softly.

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#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #marvel #marvel imagine #billy maximoff #tommy maximoff #tommy and billy #billy and tommy #avengers x reader #avengers imagine #wanda maximov

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90-ghost · 5 months

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What is the first thing you will do, after you get your freedom? Tell us all something about yourself Ahmed.

First thing going to al quds to pray in Al-Aqsa Mosque .

I'm normal person lazy one I'm not social i love staying at home with my family or going out with them i know alot of people but i have just 2 friends and one of them closer to me we used to see each other every day and walk. I love swimming i live near the beach. I start working online on November 2022 and i trade Forex online since 2020 but i stopped after i start working online. I used to play football or soccer as u American say it. And i had playstation 4 used to play call of duty since 2018 . I wanted to study outside gaza after i finished High school on 2012 but it was impossible because the financial situation. Still dreaming of traveling to Europe or USA because i could find myself and discover what I'm able to do and achieve because here in gaza our life is hard and The available possibilities are few . I hope somebody could help me with that and get me a visa lol. Sometimes i think i don't know myself enough. Sorry i talked alot

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justmeinadaze · 11 months

Text

Ghost In The Machine (Eddie X You)

A/N: I wrote this a few days ago because I need it more than anything rn.

Title is based off of SZA's song "Ghost In The Machine".

"I give a fuck, I just wanna fuck, eat, sleep, love, happy Can you make me happy? Can you keep me happy?

Can you distract me from all the disaster? Can you touch on me and not call me after? Can you hate on me and mask it with laughter? Can you lead me to the ark? What's the password?

I need humanity You're like humanity"

They do text near the end. Eddie's texts will be in red.

Warnings: Daddy Dom Eddie X Stripper Sub (slight bratty) Fem Reader, SMUT, dirty talk, dry humping, phone smut, slight degrading if you squint, choking), Eddie is kinda mean at first, traumas are alluded to but not expanded on (Child abuse; bad past relationships), light FLUFF with my usual dash of the ANGST.

Word Count: 4060

Being asked to perform at parties like this wasn’t new for you and the other girls. Having the manager of a famous band reach out to your company for some “entertainment” wasn’t odd either. What was odd was that you were told Corroded Coffin had four band members and right now you were looking at three. They seemed content with the girls they had grinding and kissing on their lap so you decided to take a look around the mansion style home you guys had been called to.

It was extremely beautiful with a bunch of rooms displaying different things. Your fingers grazed the wall at the bottom of the bands framed platinum and gold albums. Turning into what you assumed was a game room, you found a billiards table and a PlayStation with a mini bar in the corner. Around the area, shelfs prominently showed off the band’s awards and accolades with MANY pictures of them in different places.

As you walked further down the hall, you passed an open-door smelling smoke and hearing light strumming of a guitar. Pausing, you took a couple of steps back to peer into the room, finding that missing fourth member.

He had headphones on over his long, wavy hair as a half-finished cigarette dangled from his lips. His eyes were closed as his fingers ran across the instruments strings as it leaned against his bare chest. His jeaned leg and barefoot tapped to a beat as he listened to his music.

“Jesus Christ!”, he exclaimed as his eyes shot open feeling a change in the atmosphere. “What the fuck are you doing over here?! You girls are supposed to stay in the goddamn living room.”

“Hey there’s no reason to be rude! Your friends were preoccupied with the other ladies so I thought I’d look around.”

“Uh huh. To steal shit?”

“No! To look. I got bored, ok?!”

“Hm. A hooker who’s bored. That’s something I haven’t heard before.” His tone is dripping with mocking as he rises to his feet.

“That’s no reason for you to be a fucking asshole!”

“You watch your mouth when you talk to me, little girl. I can make sure you and your ‘company’ never get another job again.”

“Oh, Mr. Tough Rockstar is oh no scary. Fuck you. I’ve handled way worse clients than the number 5 band on the billboard charts.”

The man’s held tilted to the side as he finally drank you in. You were visually different than what he expected when his friends had suggested reaching out to an agency to have some women come over to celebrate with since they were nominated for another Grammy. Eddie didn’t care about that kind of thing; he just wanted to play music. When he heard the car pull up, he immediately disappeared to his room to practice and write some new songs. Not that he wasn’t interested in “entertaining a woman”. This metalhead liked a challenge and he enjoyed even more a strong woman that wouldn’t just cater to his every whim. He didn’t want a woman who would get down on her knees no questions asked. Eddie wanted one who would tell him to fuck off but then after a few consensual activities would be dripping and begging for his cock.

Women were offered to him and his friends constantly. He wanted something he had to earn so that way when she finally submitted, it was all the more sweet.

“What’s your name?”, he asked in a much softer tone.

“Y/N. You?”

“Are you asking to be polite or do you genuinely not know who the guitarist of the band who is number five on the billboard charts?”

“Do you always make things this complicated?”

“Yes.” When he grins at you, you can’t help but smile back.

“Some of the other ladies find catering to a man’s ego really gets them going. I find it’s better to ask them questions, Mr. Munson, especially since most of our clients think we don’t care about them.”

“Do you? Care I mean.”

“Sometimes.”, you shrug.

“You’re honest. I like that.”

“I don’t really see the point in lying if I’m probably never going to see you again.”

“Do you WANT to see me again?”

This time it was your turn to tilt your head. He said that with a lot of the sass he had been giving you since he saw you but something else was behind his eyes when he spoke, something lonely. Your palm reached out confidently, landing on the bulge in his jeans. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t notice his size. The part of him that was against your hand wasn’t even all of him and you gulped as you tried to regain your confident composure.

“Do you want me to help you feel better now, Mr. Munson?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”, the guitarist mused as he stepped forward, placing his own palm against the wall behind you and trapping you against it. “I hate when my questions go unanswered.”

“You-you must be used to disappointment then.”

His nose grazed yours, grinning a big tooth filled smile before his eyes flicked down to your hand on his cock.

“You must be to, Y/N.” Slowly, his fingers trace down your arm and take hold of your wrist as he holds it still. “Be honest. Have you ever felt a dick as big as mine?”

You licked your lips as his hips began grinding against your palm, trying to push down the moan that wanted to escape.

“Ooo someone’s confident.”, you jest. Something in his look changes as the hand on the wall behind you slides down to your throat. In most situations with your other clients this would be a time to panic but he wasn’t gripping you violently. When his fingers firmly pressed into your skin, your brain felt fuzzy as your pussy clenched around nothing.

“I’d say I’ve earned the right to be confident. Now, Y/N, this your one warning. Answer the questions I ask you. Do I make myself clear?”

“Y-yes Mr. Munson. I understand. N-no. I’ve never felt a dick like yours.”

He smirked as he pressed your palm harder against him. “Good girl.” Your let out a sigh when he released his hold on your neck to push some of your hair behind your ear. “You really are beautiful, Y/N. Fuck and your hand feels so good. I can only imagine how the rest of you feels.”

“You don’t have to imagine. You can have me if you want me.”

Eddie’s smirk grows as he bites his bottom lip. “Honestly, sweetheart, I’ve never wanted anything more but…that’s not how I play. I don’t want you to fuck me because you’re paid to.” He leans in till his lips are right by your ear. “I want you to fuck me because you want to…need me to.” You hear his breathing stutter as he moves his hips faster, his grip on your wrist tightening. “Beg me to.”

“Oh fuck…”, you whimpered at his words. His movements become choppy and grunts before you feel dampness on his jeans.

He leans back placing his forehead on yours as he licks his lips and softly smiles. “See, what would usually happen now is I’d make you cum to. I bet that pussy is just aching to be touched but see…you’re getting to paid to make us feel good…not the other way around.”

You’re honestly too stunned to say anything or fight back with your typical brand of sass. Right now, all you can think of his him and how bad you need something from him; anything.

“Can…can I kiss you?”

When he nods, you waste no time connecting your lips to his. You immediately taste the nicotine but that undertone of him has you dizzy. All too quickly, it’s over as he pulls away. He doesn’t just move his head but his whole body as he backs towards his bed, yanking off his now stained jeans and boxers.

“How long are you ladies here for?”, he asks nonchalantly as he sits on the bed and picks up his guitar again.

“Huh? Oh, um, 2 AM I think.”

He glances at his phone before handing it to you. “Time’s almost up. Put your number in there for me.”

Eddie said it like a command and your instinct was to say something snarky but as you looked down at him strumming his instrument without looking at you, you realized there was more to this man than meets the eye. Most men who begged for your number always watched you intently to make sure you actually did it, you assumed. Of course, you gave them a fake number or the number to the agency you worked for but with this man here his head remained lowered. It was almost like he was afraid you wouldn’t…like he really hoped you would and would be hurt if he watched you decline, giving the phone back.

There was something about Eddie that you wanted to know more about. He wasn’t like everyone else you had been around. For some reason, you felt like you could trust him.

After inputting your real number, you placed his device back on his nightstand and sat beside him. “We still have 45 minutes. Can I ask what you’re working on?”

His eyes shoot over to you as he cautiously scans your soft smiling face. “We’re working on this new album and Jeff has this song he wrote but I can’t find the right sound. I was just messing around and recording them to see if it sparked something.”

“May I hear what you have so far?”

“Um, yeah, sure.”

He reached over, grabbing an extra set of headphones and placed them over you head. You grinned as different guitar riffs and melodies began to play.

“This is all you?” Eddie nods. “Wow. Mr. Munson, you are definitely talented.”

When he pauses the recording and you slide the headphones around your neck. “You can call me Eddie if you’d like.”

“Okay, Eddie.” After putting the headphones over your ears again, he pressed play and you both leaned back in his bed.

He couldn’t help but be a little shocked that you didn’t try to touch him again. Anywhere he or his band went, people tried to touch his body whether it was meet and greets, walking through the street, or even on stage when overzealous fans would jump on and run at them. Any girl that was lucky enough to be in his bed would insist on touching him until she left as if she knew this would be the last time she saw him. That’s another reason he struggled to maintain any kind of relationship. Besides the crazy rockstar life, he never was keen on being constantly touched.

He got enough of that with his career and when he was growing up when his dad would knock him around. With his last relationship, they fought constantly because there were times he would come home from a long day and just wanted a moment to decompress alone. He knew she meant well but even after nicely asking her to give him a moment she would still try and wrap her arms around him or try and kiss parts of his body.

What he didn’t know yet was that you understood that feeling all too well. Being in your line of work, men seemed to believe you didn’t even have a line they shouldn’t cross, always touching some part of your body until their time was up. When you were just a stripper at the company you worked for, men were the same but at least you had a bouncer to quickly pulled them back. When times got hard and you told your boss you were willing to sign up for the “side hustle”, it was just you and the girls.

No one had ever gotten too physical like that but after your client came you just wanted them to roll over and crash or just leave you there till the timer was up. Personally, you chose to stay away from relationships knowing most men wouldn’t like your line of business. Men constantly offered to “save you” but you knew it was all talk. They didn’t really care about you.

When you moved to the city, you promised you were only going to look out for yourself. You took care of you and had for a long time. The last time you relinquished control like that, you got burned and ran all the way to a new state.

A small hand tapped your knee and you jumped before realizing it was one of the other girls letting you know time was up.

“Ok, I’ll be right there.” You turn to Eddie and hand him his headphones. “I really like what you have so far. That last one was beautiful.”

“Thank you. Here, um, let me grab my sweatpants and I can walk you out.”

“Oh, Eddie, no. You don’t have to do that. It’s super late and in your gated front yard I don’t think anyone is going to jump us.”, you giggle.

“Ok…I’m going to put on pants anyway though because I want to hug you if that’s alright.” Without waiting for an answer, he finds a pair on the floor and pulls them up just below his hips.

“Do arms not work without sweats?”

“They do but I don’t want to be disrespectful by rubbing my dick on you and making you uncomfortable.”

“Didn’t I just…”

“You made that move, sweetheart. You put your hand on me.”, he grins as he places his body in front of yours. “May I hug you?”

When you nod, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you to his chest as your own limbs cling to his upper torso. This was a new feeling for you. It had been so long since you felt safe in someone’s arms. His hand petted your hair as he kissed the top of your head.

“I’ll talk to you later to make sure you’re alright.”

***

You sighed as you entered your front door, putting away your things, and throwing yourself on your bed as you closed your eyes. A sudden ding on your phone made your eyebrows scrunch as you blindly searched for it on your bed. Swiping it open, you noticed it was from an unknown number but as you read the message, a smile slowly formed on your face.

“Hey, sweetheart. Just checking in to make sure you got home alright.”

“Are you stalking me, Mr. Munson? Lol. I literally just walked in the door.”

Tossing your phone back on the bed, you figure it will most likely take him awhile to respond but as you go to your closet to change you hear that familiar ding.

“Yup. You caught me. I followed you home.”

“Shit. I just realized that’s probably not a joke I should be making in your line of work.”

“I was just thinking about you and wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Lol Eddie! If I thought you were like that I wouldn’t have given you my number : ) “

“I’m alright though. Thank you for checking up on me.”

“Of course. I’ll leave you alone now so you can sleep.”

“I actually wasn’t going to go to sleep just yet.”

You paused for a moment debating on if you should tell him what you were going to do before bed. You were hoping if you did maybe he would talk to you like he did in his bedroom. Hearing him murmur his words and what he said got you wetter than anything else. You could still feel your slick sticking to your legs after you changed your clothes. Hell, it couldn’t hurt, right?

“I just got back from spending some time with this long haired rockstar with a huge cock who got me all hot and bothered so I was going to relieve some of this pressure here.”

You watched the dots on his end appear and disappear. The longer it took him the more nervous you got. Had you crossed a line?

“Don’t talk like that. Be upfront and honest. Talk to me like a big girl. What were you going to do before bed, Y/N?”

You could almost feel his stern eyes through the screen as you rubbed your thighs together.

“I was going to touch myself and think of you.”

His name suddenly popped up on your phone and you didn’t hesitate to answer the call.

“Hey Eddie.”

“Are you still wearing what you had on here?”

“No. I’m naked now.”

“Liar.”

“Eddie, I’m not—”

“Call me back when you’re ready to be a good girl.”

Your jaw dropped as he hung up and you huffed as you called him backed. “How dare you—”

“I don’t play games like that, little girl, and I hate liars. I figured since I got you all riled up and you are no longer on the clock maybe I could help you out. I also thought it would be fucking sexy to hear what you sound like when you cum. But if you want to cop an attitude with me, I can treat you how bratty little girls deserve to be treated. Now…what are you wearing?”

“I’m wearing an oversized t-shirt with my panties from earlier.”

He could hear your pout through the phone and it was making him hard all over again.

“Good. Good girl. Why didn’t you just tell me that in the first place?”

“I don’t know. I just… I always have to be SEXY; you know? God forbid I show any humanity.”

“Not with me, princess. I imagine you look just as sexy now as you did looking up at me with those big, beautiful eyes against my bedroom wall."

“Thank you, Mr. Munson.”

“Of course. Now tell me, baby. You said you were going to touch yourself and think of me. What about me?”

“I was thinking about the way your lips tasted when you kissed me…so good.”

“The cigarette taste didn’t bother you?”, he chuckled making you smile as one of your hands roamed up your shirt to touch your breast.

“No. Not at all.”, you giggle back, biting your bottom lip.

“That’s good. I’ve had some complaints.” You can hear him smile and your fingers run along your nipple as your exhale heavily. “What are you doing over there, honey?”

“I’m playing with my tits.”

“Mmm. You did have some perfect tits. Well, from what I saw under that tight ass tank top.”

That makes you genuinely laugh and his smile grows at the sound. “What else were you going to think about?”

Your hand slides under the waistband of your panties as your finger slides through your dripping folds.

“I was going to think about your thick cock against my palm and the way you rubbed against it.”

“Yeah? You’re going to imagine me doing that right now between those gorgeous legs? Grinding my dick against your pretty little pussy.”

“F-fuck, Eddie.” Your eyes rolled back as two of your fingers breached your entrance. “Please…keep talking to me…like that.”

“You like the way I talk to you? Was that something else you were going to think about? Picturing me whispering in your ear like I did when you were here?”

You didn’t know but he was leading you somewhere. There was one thing he wanted, needed to hear you say on your own. As soon as he heard it, he was yours and he would do anything to make you his.

“Yes, I liked hearing you say the things you said.”

Eddie could hear you touching yourself and your little moans were driving him crazy as he quickly pulled down his pants.

“Princess, is it ok if I touch myself to?”

“Yeah, baby. Of course. A-are you—mmm—still a bit sensitive?” The sound of him spitting in his hand had you clench tightly as you whimpered.

“Ah, no, baby girl. But with those sexy fucking whimpers and groans I’m not going to last long.”, he chuckled. “How many fingers are you using?” You barely heard him as you thumb began messaging your clit. “I asked you something, sweetheart. What did I say when you were here?”

“If-if—mmm—you ask…me…something I-I answer.”

“Good girl. Tell me how many fingers you’re using.”

“Fuck…two. Two, Daddy.”

Eddie practically growled with pleasure at the word that he had been praying would fall from your lips.

“Jesus, yes. Good fucking girl. I want you to use three. You…you have to prepare that pretty pussy for… Daddy’s big cock.”

As soon as you did as he asked, the English language completely escaped your mind.

“I…your…oh my…” He grunted in your ear reminding you of when he was pressed against you sending you toppling over the edge as you came hard. The sound was almost too much for him as he pictured your cunt spasming around him as you moaned his name just as you had. For the second time that night you made him cum as his spend shot out and hit his stomach.

“Are you ok?”, you mumbled, drunk off your orgasm.

“Yeah, sweetheart. I’m alright. Are you?”

“I’ve never called anyone Daddy before.” You had no idea why you were being so honest with him. That wasn’t necessarily something he needed to know but for some reason you thought maybe the knowledge of that would make him feel special. You wanted him to feel good.

“What made you say it now?”

You scoot your body further into your bed as you curl up into your sheets.

“I feel safe with you. I know that sounds so weird. We barely even know each other but I do…”

You listened to the soothing sound of his breath into the phone as he absorbed what you were saying.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier. I can be a bit of an asshole sometimes.”

“I can handle the asshole.” You smile when you hear him softly laugh.

“On Friday, we’re going to be spending some time at the recording studio. Do you want come by and listen to us play?”

“I would love to but I have to work Friday night.”

“How about you come by in the afternoon and then go to work? Are you…um…”

“No, side business Friday. I’ll just be dancing.”

“Ok, cool. Maybe when we’re done, I can meet up with you after.”

“Eddie…I like you a lot but are you sure you want to do this? I strip and I have sex for money. I’m not proud of it but I’m not ashamed of it either. I’m doing what I have to do right now.”

He was silent for a moment as he thought about what you were saying.

“Y/N, I’m not perfect. I’ve been arrested, gotten into fights with paparazzi, and like I said I can be a bit of an asshole. I like you a lot to but I understand that this is all new. You and I lead interesting lives. I’m not…going to harp on you and I’m not going to, I don’t know, offer to fucking save you or whatever other douchebags say.” You laugh making him smile. “But I would like to take care of you…physically, mentally, emotionally…financially.”

“I don’t know how to give up control like that.”

The way you say that makes him want to scoop you up in his arms and cradle you into his chest.

“Do you work tomorrow?”

“No, not tomorrow.”

“Can I come over so we can talk? We’re doing this stupid photoshoot thing but I can come over after and bring some food. Of course, only if you’re comfortable. That’s all that really matters to me, baby girl. I want you to be comfortable.”

You don’t know why but you believed him when he said it. What was it about this man that had you breaking all your normal rules? Not just rules with the business but in your life. You had been on your own for so long that you didn’t need nor want to become involved with someone. However, it would be nice to have someone take care of you for once…

“Okay, Daddy”

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misshoneyimhome · 5 months

Note

Honestly after the Sweden trip, it all gave us smutty ideas lol I know you did something similar blurb about this about Willy but he seems like the type to try to make you squirt as much as he can before his game and riding his face :)

I'm here with you, darling 😏 Did someone mention pure smut without a lot of storyline? 🙃🙊 Naturally, Willy aims to make you squirt! That guy is all about his oral skills, and let's admit it, he's more than just good at it - he knows it too! 😜

Warnings: smut 18+; oral sex (f receiving); mention on unprotected sex (p in v);

・✶ ｡ﾟ

Hungry ⚡️

It was last night when William returned home late from his training session. You were having a dinner night with two of your girlfriends, and with a glass of your beloved rosé in hand after dinner, you were deep in girl talk, relaxing on the sofa.

Amidst the chatter and laughter, William walked in through the front door. He greeted you and your friends with a smile, enjoying the sound of your laughter before quietly heading to the bedroom. He didn't want to interrupt your girls' evening, but as he settled in to play video games in bed, he heard your voice.

"Oh no, Terry was the one who made me squirt once," you had exclaimed, accidentally loud enough for William to overhear.

And it sparked something inside him.

If there was one thing, he was confident about, it was his skill in eating you out.

He could elicit moans, screams, and bring you to climax quicker than he could tie his skates. His beard and lips always ended up soaked in your juices as you writhed under his touch, never staying quiet with his head between your legs.

Yet, despite his best efforts and attempts to use his fingers just right, he'd never managed to make you squirt.

Feeling a tad let down by your words, reminiscing about how you'd been satisfied by your ex, William decided to have a chat with the lads. Normally, they didn’t delve into emotions or relationships much, but discussing the finer details of sex was something they could share among themselves.

So, during their PlayStation session, William took the chance to talk about experiences without mentioning his own lack of success in that department. However, it was interesting to hear how the other guys handled things.

The next day was game day.

While you took your time in the bathroom, showering, shaving, doing your hair, and all the rest, William was chilling on the bed, once again engrossed in his NHL PlayStation game.

And walking into the bedroom, you couldn't help but chuckle. There was your boyfriend, as laid-back as ever, sprawled on the bed, completely absorbed in the game, wearing his headphones.

"Aw, come on!" he exclaimed lightly, frustrated at missing a scoring chance in his game. You giggled and cleared your throat, trying to get his attention.

"Babe, aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for your match tonight?" you asked, curious.

The team had had a morning training session, followed by a few hours off to relax before the game that evening. But William, true to his casual nature, tended to be a bit too laid-back. He'd come home, snack a little, play a few rounds of PlayStation with his friends, take a shower, then put on some music before heading to the arena.

"In a minute," he said casually, barely looking up at you, eyes fixed on the screen.

"Well, I hope you don't mind if I get ready while you entertain yourself," you chuckled lightly, dropping the towel to the floor. You didn't actually intend to have sex, but you hoped to pique William's interest just a bit.

And you succeeded.

Even though he tried to concentrate on the game, his attention kept drifting back to you. Your perfect curves, round breasts that fit so well in his hands, and your inviting warmth always ready for him.

As you stood there, casting a seductive smirk in his direction, William couldn't resist his desire for you. Blood rushed to his length as he licked his lips, an idea forming in his mind.

Tossing the joystick aside, he turned to you with an intense look. With hungry eyes, he lay back and used his finger to signal you to come closer, a seductive invitation.

And you happily obliged. Even though it wasn't your initial plan, you never refused a good round of bed sheets activity with Willy, even right after a shower.

Gently, you came to straddle him, leaning in, aiming to connect your lips, but he had different intentions. He craved to have his mouth on your other lips.

"Further up, babe," he commanded in a husky voice, and you could almost feel your heat pulsating merely by his words.

"You want to do that now?" you chuckled.

"Mmm hmm," he replied with a flirty wink.

And following his instruction, you moved up slightly, positioning a thigh on each side of his head as your core hovered closer to his face.

William then wrapped his arms around your thighs, pulling you nearer and bringing your warmth in contact with his mouth.

"Oh, fuck," you breathed out as you felt the sensation of his lips and warm tongue touching the tender skin between your folds.

You've always loved William's talent and passion for eating you out. Although you couldn't quite pinpoint why he enjoyed it so much, you had no complaints whatsoever.

From the very first time he went down on you, he had a knack for turning you into a delightful mess using only his mouth. And just like tonight, he wasn't afraid of getting a bit messy.

He used his entire mouth to work its magic. His tongue explored you thoroughly, from your entrance all the way to your clit. His warmth mingled deeply with yours as he teased his tongue against your entrance before focusing on flicking your clit and drawing it into his mouth. He made sure you were thoroughly wet, mixing his saliva with your juices, making you unable to hold your cunt back from dripping.

Your moans grew louder as the delightful sensation of an impending orgasm built up, while his beard gently scratched your inner thighs, and his nose nudged just the right spot.

Keeping yourself in place wasn't easy as William voraciously devoured you as if it were his last meal on earth. His eyes gazed intensely up at you as you became a quivering mess above him, your legs gently trembling while you grasped the bed's edges for support.

"Willy," you moaned, closing your eyes, throwing your head back, and arching slightly.

Your toes tingled as the climax approached, your mind becoming hazy, and your desire overwhelming, eager to release.

And as William sensed your mounting anticipation, he gently hummed against your warmth, prompting a loud moan to escape your lips as you reached your climax.

"Oh yes," you breathed out heavily, allowing yourself to let go as the rush of pleasure surged through your body.

After taking a moment to catch your breath, you tried to shift away from William's face, intending to let him have his turn.

"God, you're so good at that," you chuckled, attempting to move from his grasp. However, William wasn't entirely satisfied with his efforts.

Even though he'd brought you to orgasm, that wasn't his only goal.

As you carefully untangled yourself from his grip, he used his advantage of strength and size to guide you onto your back.

"What are you doing, babe?" you laughed lightly.

"I'm not finished with you yet," William smirked, moving once more to position his head between your legs. This time, you could relax more easily as you bent your knees, allowing him better access while he gently guided your legs open with his broad shoulders.

"Relax, baby. I want you to just let yourself go," he encouraged, his voice was calm and soothing, urging you to just lean in to it.

"Willy, I don't think we've got the time…" you attempted to speak, but his mouth swiftly resumed its attention on your heat. "Oh, shit," you moaned, allowing your body to sink into the mattress, your hands gripping the bedsheet above your head.

Your chest rose and fell erratically as you struggled to control your breathing while William once again sent tremors of pleasure coursing through your body.

"Fuck, yes…"

William couldn't help but smirk against your core as he continued his ministrations, yet he still hadn't brought you to the point he desired.

With one hand, he slid two fingers into your entrance, gently pushing them inside while continuing to suck on your sensitive bud.

He felt the warmth of your inner walls enveloping his fingers, embracing them tightly as he moved them in and out of you.

"More, Willy," you softly moaned, sensing him stretch you just slightly. And though William understood what you wanted - the desire for his cock deeply inside of you - that wasn't his current intent.

Instead, he persisted with his intense oral attention, simultaneously continuing his fingers’ work.

And he took his time. He aimed to be patient, exploring meticulously to find the spots that elicited those sweet, intense, uncontrollable sounds from you. Those spots that made you squirm beneath him and brought you right to the edge, causing you to writhe and tremble in pleasure.

The intensity was overwhelming, and you felt the onset of your second orgasm. That familiar knot gently tightened in your lower abdomen, your legs starting to tremble while your hand gripped the pillowcase tightly. You shut your eyes and leaned your head back into the pillow.

"Willy, I'm close," you announced, signalling your impending release, but it only spurred him on to drive you completely over the edge.

He had pinpointed just the right angle based on the slight squirm you made when he curled his fingers, finding the perfect spot.

Then, he released his mouth's hold and concentrated solely on his fingers’ movements. He quickened his pace, fervently thrusting his fingers in and out of your sweet warmth.

You once again became the mess he skilfully made of you, but this time, it felt even more intense and overwhelming.

Your entire body shook as William repeatedly hit that incredibly sensitive spot, and your mouth let out a stream of incoherent sounds and curses amid the intense sensations.

"That's it, baby, let go for me," Willy murmured softly, his eyes intensely fixed on you as you cried out under his touch, your soaked core making wet sounds with each pound of his fingers.

Completely undone by his assertive motions, your eyes remained closed, and yet you saw nothing but stars as your body surrendered to him, releasing without warning. A loud moan erupted from deep within your lower abdomen, all the air rushing out of your lungs and past your lips, echoing through the room.

In response to your sounds, your juices gushed from your core, squirting all over William's face, almost giving the sensation of having peed yourself. A complete sense of euphoria enveloped your mind as adrenaline surged through your veins and a flood of serotonin and dopamine took over your brain.

"Fuck, Willy!" you breathed heavily. "Oh, I'm so sorry..." you cried out in embarrassment, realising what had just happened, covering your face with your palms.

But William simply chuckled darkly as he gently withdrew his fingers from your entrance, giving it a few more gentle pumps to help you come down from your high.

"Babe, don't be embarrassed," he offered a light laugh as he gently moved to sit back on his heels, softly removing your hands from your face. "Do you realise how hot that was?"

"Really?" you asked, still feeling a tad self-conscious.

"Fuck yes!" he exclaimed. "Seriously, I've wanted to make you come like that so many times," William confessed, letting out a deep breath.

Having almost settled after your recent climax, you looked at him curiously, propping yourself up on your elbows.

"Wait… this was like a mission for you?"

Now William had to suppress a smile as he quickly pondered your question.

"Maybe…" he softly replied, flashing you a cheeky grin.

"Oh god, you heard me yesterday when I told the girls about Terry making me squirt once, didn't you?" you chuckled.

"Yes…" he sighed. "But honestly, I've wanted to make you squirt pretty much every time I've gone down on you," he admitted with a light chuckle, gently scratching the back of his head.

You couldn't help but give him a wry grin and shake your head, finding it a mix of amusing and hot at the same time.

"I don't think I have much to complain about, do I?" you smirked at him. "Shit, you're so good at this, babe..."

William chuckled, hovering over you as his face drew closer to yours. You gently reclined back before using your fingers to wipe his face, feeling your own slick juices, then drawing him down for a kiss. Your mouths eagerly met, tongues dancing together, as you savoured the taste of yourself before breaking apart.

"I just love spoiling you," he then remarked.

"Mmm," you flashed him a mischievous smile. "But, now what should we do about this?" you asked with a smirk, your eyes darting downwards to his very hard cock, snugly tucked away in his sweats, clearly yearning for release.

"Hmm, I guess we'll have to wait until later, and then you can take good care of it," he grinned.

While you felt a twinge of disappointment at not having his cock inside you and also sympathised with your boyfriend's need for release, you couldn’t help but also feel a bit overwhelmed by William's intense work on you. So, you simply nodded and let out a small sigh before both of you pushed yourselves up from the bed.

William of course played tonight's match with an enormous grin, utterly content with his performance on you before the game. It had given him a surge of confidence unlike anything else, leading to him scoring a hatty for the night.

And as your core began to feel normal again, it was only right to thank him for it once you got home. You didn't even make it to the bedroom before dropping to your knees in the kitchen. And while William could easily have finished just then and there, he chose to have you sprawled on the dining table, deeply thrusting into you, making you moan his name and other sounds once more, before he released and celebrated properly by finishing inside you.

#thirst night #18+#william nylander imagine #nhl smut #wn88 imagine #william nylander smut #nhl hockey imagine #toronto maple leafs imagine

202 notes · View notes

oneforthemunny · 1 year

Text

take care |modern!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: after a long day at work, you just wanted to relax. eddie makes sure you can.

contains: our fav modern!eddie and his lil mean girl. language, mentions of weed, oral fem receiving, p in v sex, aftercare and fluff, minors dni 18+

You could feel your fists clench, knuckles tight and whitening when you shoved your key in the door, agitation eating you from the inside out.

Today had been a particularly horrible day to work retail. Spring always meant prom season, which meant whiny teenagers spilled in with their bossy mothers, demanding shades of foundation for the spray tan they didn’t have yet, slamming them on the counter furiously when it inevitably didn’t match- because you were supposed to be mind reader. But you couldn’t say that to them, couldn’t snap at them the way you wanted to, only taking deep breath in, giving a dazzling customer service smile, and apologizing for your mistake.

The knots in your neck were agonizing from straining all day, feet aching from the little black boots you wore, a sweat breaking out on your neckline. All you wanted to do was go home, drown yourself in the cheap bottle of wine you had in the fridge, and sink into a bubble bath until your skin pruned away entirely. But you knew you wouldn’t get to do that.

When you’d got off, you sat in your car, scrolling through messages, your lips pressing further together into a tight line. There sat the string of TikTok notifications from Eddie on your screen, constant and too many for you to look at. It wasn’t the videos that pissed you off, it was the fact that he had sent them all day. All day, and you knew- you just knew he hadn’t done anything you asked him to do.

You’d left him that morning, sweet kisses pressed to his cheek, fingers trailing down his tummy, still soft and warm from sleep. “I started a load of laundry, can you just switch it over to the dryer please?” You asked softly.

Eddie nodded, pulling you back in for one last kiss before you left, still propped up in the bed. You’d slipped out, going to work. When you returned, you were greeted by Eddie on the couch, blunt rolling smoke in the tray beside him, hunched over with his headset on, screaming into the mic and eyes trained on his PlayStation. He’d muttered a greeting, tongue out in focus playing some fantasy type game, eyes never leaving the screen.

You could feel your shoulders tense, jaw setting when you slammed the door behind you. You didn’t take off your shoes, didn’t set down your purse, stomping straight down the hall towards the small closet where your washer and dryer sat. You lifted the lid, the mildewish, soured smell of wet towels filling your nose.

The bubble of calmness you’d kept all day popped, exploding in hot rage out of you. You dropped your purse, reaching in to grab one of the still soaking wet towel, heavy and wet on your hands.

You marched in front of Eddie, blocking his view, fuming with the towel in your hand. “Baby, one sec, I’m almost-“ Eddie stopped, eyes trained on the towel.

He flicked up the mic to his headset just in time for you ball up the towel, throwing it so it thudded against his chest. You jammed your finger in the button of the PlayStation, powering it off furiously. Eddie grimaced slightly, slipping the headset off.

“I asked you to do one goddam thing!” You screamed, throwing your hands out.

“Baby, I forgot-“

“-You always forget, Eddie!” You scoffed, rolling your eyes. His eyes rounded slightly, pleading and sorry. You snarled, shaking your head and stomping towards your room.

You plopped on your bed, angrily ripping your shoes off. It was a constant fight since he’d moved in. Towels left on the bathroom floor, not putting down the toilet seat, forgetting to start the dishwasher, putting the coffee cups up too high.

You bristled with anger, jaw grinding and huffing. All you’d asked him to do was one thing. One. You didn’t give a shit that he stayed on your couch, that he played his game all day, only leaving to get food or do a deal. You didn’t care, really. But what you did care about was when he disrespected your space; you. You’d had this fight already, about him helping you around the apartment- your apartment.

You tried to be understanding, it was clear he wasn’t doing it maliciously. He didn’t have a good home life, and his uncle raised him the best he could, but Wayne was too busy working to make sure their lights stayed on to worry about if Eddie’s room was clean. As long as Eddie was clean, he didn’t care. That was clear when you’d gone into his room once, staying at the trailer one night only, scared by the ecosystem growing under his bed.

But on days like today, days when your nerves were shot and the last thing you wanted was to deal with things like that, it infuriated you. There were no clean towels for a bath, so your afternoon plans to soak were destroyed, which made you fume all over again.

You could hear Eddie starting the laundry, the small trill of the chimes on the machine starting. You rolled your eyes, pulling your shirt off, balling it up and tossing it in the hamper.

The door’s hinges squeaked softly, Eddie’s footsteps soft and muffled against the carpet. You ignored him, pushing down your black jeans into a puddle on the ground.

“Baby, ’m sorry.” Eddie whispered softly from behind you. You felt his fingers ghost over your hips, trailing over the silky material of your panties.

You huffed, wiggling out of his grasp. “Don’t.” You snapped. “I had a really shitty day and all I wanted was to take a bath. I’m disgusting and-and… just don’t touch me right now.” You hissed, holding your hand up.

Eddie nodded, eyes trained on your chest, watching you unclasp your bra, breasts falling free. He swallowed hard, putting his hands in front of his sweatpants. “I’m so sorry, baby. I forgot, really.” He cooed sweetly, taking a step towards you.

You rummaged through your drawers, pulling out a big tshirt, soft with wear, and a pair of fresh underwear. Eddie took another step forward. “Did you have a bad day?”

You huffed, slamming the drawers. “Yeah, I did.” You snapped. “And this didn’t make it any better. I got bitched at all fucking day, and I just wanted to come home and relax.”

“I’m sorry,” Eddie sighed sympathetically. “I’ll go run to Target and get you a towel if you want me to. You can get in the bath and I’ll be right back.”

“No,” You huffed, pushing your underwear down. His eyes widened slightly. “I just- I want you to do shit when I ask you to.”

“I know,” Eddie nodded, stepping towards you again. “I know, I’m sorry, baby, I swear I didn’t mean to. I just- I forgot honestly.” He hesitated, reaching out to touch you, slow and soft. You were bare in front of him, arms crossed over your chest, glaring angrily at him but you didn’t push him away.

He pulled you close, your crossed arms in his chest, chin resting on your shoulder, pressing sweet kisses into your cheek. His hands rubbed up and down your back, slow little circles that had you relaxing slightly, melting further into his chest.

“I’m sorry you had a bad day, sweetheart.” Eddie muttered into your cheek. You huffed, pouty and breathy into his chest. “Let me take care of you.” His hands trailed down your spine, squeezing the fat of your ass.

You whined, pulling back. “I’m gross, Ed, no.” You protested lightly, his hands still kneading your cheeks. “I’ve worked all day. I’m sweaty and gross.”

“You’re not gross.” Eddie muttered, nose nuzzling into your hair line, breathing in your scent deeply. “C’mon, let me help you relax, baby. ‘S least I can do. Make it up to you.”

You hesitated, the kisses he was trailing down your neck were making you relax enough already. You whimpered when he sucked lightly into the nape of your neck, his hands still grabbing your ass.

“C’mon, lay down, baby, I got you.” Eddie coaxed gently.

You melted into the mattress, letting him lay on top of you, hips rolling and grinding into you. You blamed the sweatpants, they were your weakness. You could always see his dick outlined in them, so casual and innocent. You were always dropping to your knees when he wore them.

Eddie wedged his body between your legs, sliding down the mattress, trailing kisses between your breasts, down your sternum, towards your core until his shoulders had your thighs spread wide around him. He could feel the heat off your pussy, radiating and warming the tip of his nose before he ever touched you. His hands ran up your torso, smoothing over the skin of your tummy, squeezing your breasts before sliding back down your waist, pressing wet kisses to the inside of your thighs, over your mound, teasing.

“Stop,” you whined, high pitched and nasally, wiggling your hips towards his face. Your brows creased, pouting when you looked down at him.

He grinned softly, hand pulling your thighs apart further, tongue running over his bottom lip before he licked you, slow from your hole to your clit, swirling around the sensitive nub. Eddie moaned loud, enough to have vibrations sending shockwaves to your bundle of nerves making you arch.

“You taste so good, baby, fuck.” Eddie rasped, licking another long stripe, eyes closing and fingers digging into your thigh.

You whimpered, hands threading through his curls. You loved that he kept his hair long. He looked so different from all the other guys, wild curls that always seemed to have your hands in them, playing with the ringlets sweetly. You loved when he'd let you style it, load it with products and diffuse it, or put a mask in it in the bath, clipping it up sweetly while you soaked. Eddie loved it too, he loved that you loved it, loved that you'd scratch his scalp and coo at him, so sweet and giggly.

You were a whirlwind, an enigma of personality. Sweet and sour, he called you his little 'sour patch kid' and while he always played it off like he was joking, you both knew deep down he was being serious. He knew you were just high strung, wound a little tight, and the snapping and snarky comments were a defense, a default when you felt out of control. He knew you could be sweet, knew you were sweet, you were so sweet to him.

You whined, wiggling your hips closer and closer to him, sighing heavy when he sucked at your clit. “That feels good…” You mumbled, hips jumping towards his mouth.

Eddie grinned, another long lick to your slit that had you reeling. “Mmm, I’m glad.” He kept his lips against your core when he said it, he knew you liked it like that. He knew you liked the vibrations, how they’d tickle your clit and make you clench. He didn’t even have to use his fingers, could have you coming undone with his tongue alone.

You whimpered, feeling his hand press against your lower tummy, thighs tightening when he ran a soft hand up and down your belly to your chest, rolling your nipples just barely in his hands. “Feels so good, Eddie, fuck.” You whined. “Oh! Right there! Do it just like that, please!”

Eddie repeated the action, fingers pressed in a ‘v’ over your puffed lips, exposing and revealing your throbbing clit to him, sucking the bud at a pace that had you seeing stars. You cried, hands fisting in his hair to bring him closer and closer, his nose was pressed against your mound, inhaling your scent deeply, lapping away until you gushed hard around him. His eyes fluttered up to yours, licking you through your orgasm while you bucked and writhed, his arms locked around your waist to keep you still. He loved watching you come undone for him, get you in that hazy headspace that always had you needy and clingy afterwards.

“That good?” Eddie asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand when he moved up.

You nodded, chest heaving slightly. “Very good.” You looked at him with glassy eyes, smiling slightly. The blush on your cheeks was enough for him to know you meant it. He was always wanting to please you, especially after you were upset with him.

He shoved his sweatpants down, kicking them off until they pooled at the end of the bed. You could feel his erection between the two of you, rutting his hips into yours, whining slightly at the friction.

“You wanna be like this? Or you wanna be on your stomach?” Eddie asked, his nose touching yours. You could feel his curls around your face, making you giggle at the tickling feeling. It made your heart swell slightly, any feels of irritation disappearing with every soft kiss of his pillowy lips on yours.

"This is fine," You sighed contently, eyes shutting when he pressed his lips to your neck. "Wanna see you." You muttered.

Eddie fucked you slow, your legs wrapped around his waist, fingers intertwined with his. He grunted lowly in your ear, reveling in the little whines and gasps you'd let sneak out sweetly, muffled into his neck.

You'd curled up beside him, he'd used his boxers to clean you up before dropping them back into the floor, your head on his chest, his hands stroking your hair softly. You could feel your eyes droop, heavy with the stress of the day. Eddie put on New Girl for you, he knew you liked to watch it when you were falling asleep.

When you awoke, the screen on the TV with the Netflix logo, asking if you were still watching. You could hear Eddie in the living room, the soft glow of the kitchen light down the hallway. You felt heavy, warm, a little disoriented with the nap. Your phone on the bedside table read eight-twenty-two.

Eddie looked up when you walked in, pausing his game and pushing the headset off his curls. "Hi, baby," He greeted with a small smile. "Did you sleep ok?"

You nodded, stretching and rubbing your eyes. You started for the closet with the washer and dryer. "I already dried them." Eddie said proudly. "I put them up too, so you can take a bath now if you want."

Your heart swelled, smiling with a soft, sleepy smile. You walked over to him, straddling his lap, still warm and soft. Eddie's hands rubbed down your back, grabbing on your hips gently. "Thank you." You whispered, pressing your lips to his sweetly.

"No problem, baby." Eddie hummed, a soft smile on his lips. "'M sorry I didn't do it earlier."

"That's alright." You muttered, sitting down in his lap. Your legs on either side of his, arms around his neck, head tucked under his chin. His hand found your back, rubbing small circles down your back, sneaking under the fabric of the shirt- his shirt.

"I'm sorry you had a bad day." Eddie pressed small kisses to your hair line.

"'S alright." You pouted, huffing slowly against his chest. "I hate prom."

Eddie laughed softly, chest vibrating with laughter. "Yeah? I wasn't a fan of it either."

You craned your neck to look up at him. "Who did you go to prom with?"

Eddie scratched his neck. "Uh, my first senior year, I went with this emo, alt chick. Her name was Haley." He grinned slightly and you frowned. "Then my last senior year, I just went with the guys. Only went for a little bit, then hit the after parties to sell." You scoffed slightly, and he smiled down at you. "What about you?"

"I went my sophomore year with this guy names Parker. He was a friend and he needed a date, so we went, talked shit the whole night it was fun. Then I went my junior year twice, because the guy I was with at the time went to a different school. Then senior year I went with the same guy but just to mine, because he had graduated." You explained.

Eddie snorted. "Seems like you loved prom if you ask me."

"Hated it. My mom made me go." You wrinkled your nose. "I looked so different too. Weird when I look back."

"Bet you were still hot." Eddie grinned. You scoffed loudly. "What? I bet you were. What's that Drake song... high school pics you were even bad then?"

You laughed, cringing slightly while you covered your blush. "Eddie, oh my god, that- you're so lame." You giggled, shaking your head.

"What? It's a good song. I thought you'd love that song." Eddie jested, poking your side sweetly. "Gotta be nice for what? That's practically written about you."

"I'm very nice." You pouted playfully, eyes narrowing at him.

He grinned. "You are." He said sweetly, pressing his lips to yours, hands cradling around your jaw. You really were.

#modern!eddie x reader #modern!eddie munson #modern!eddie #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson au #oneforthemunny #funsonmunson #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie x reader

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chaethewriter · 1 year

Text

Jack Champion x gamer gf! reader

J. Champion with a gamer gf headcanons

a gym rat and gamer girl in love.

A/N: incredibly short and silly, because this was just on my mind.

◇ even before he had asked you if he could be your boyfriend, he knew about your gaming addiction— obsession.

◇ no matter where he saw you, your eyes were always set on a screen.

◇ whether that be on your PlayStation, computer or even the Nintendo Switch.

◇ he knew you liked gaming, but when you started dating, he truly got to meet gamer you.

◇ you stayed at his house often, it was almost your second home.

◇ the main reason being: the two of you were glued together.

◇ it doesn't matter what either of you were doing, as long as you did it together.

◇ moments when you sat somewhere with your phone being opened on Genshin, waiting at the gym while he was training.

◇ this also meant your stuff being in his bedroom.

◇ your Nintendo Switch for example.

◇ whenever the two of you were free from any work and college, you would be lying down on the bed, resting your head into his lap.

◇ you would be playing any form of tactical strategic game as he ran his fingers through your hair.

◇ he would watch the way your nose scrunched up as you glared at the screen to figure out how to ambush the enemy without getting your team killed.

◇ the movie he had put on the television long forgotten as he watched you in admiration.

◇ he would give commentary as he watched you, asking you things that he saw as he was genuinely interested in the stuff you like.

◇ "babe? What does that icon mean?"

◇ "do you get to dress up your main character?"

◇ "is there a reason why you put the arrow users behind the sword users?"

◇ he knows he might sound dumb, but he was genuinely wondering.

◇ you looked like you knew what you were doing, as if you put all of your energy into it.

◇ it was cute.

"Are you sure I can try? I mean I don't want to ruin your rounds-"

"Jack, babe, it's fine! I will help you." You were playing 'fire emblem three houses' on Jack's lap, but you couldn't help but feel a gaze burning into your skin. You had looked to the side, watching how he watched you with interest. You knew that look, he was curious, eager to try.

So you told him he could.

You were still in his lap, the Switch in his hands as yours were on top of his to guide him.

"What I always do is keep the bow user behind with the healer, before that I usually put mages, then axes and polearms and swords. I usually put cavalry on their own as they're pretty strong. Sometimes I leave them with healers, as they also have another weapon to use so that the cavalry isn't all alone."

He had no idea what you were saying and it was noticeable in the way he was playing.

Attacking a cavalry with a bow user, but he was getting there.

You couldn't tell him off, though. The way he was fully concentrating in the game with his chin resting against the top of your head.

◇ when the two of you were at your home, he would sit you on his lap as he watched you game.

◇ one of his arms wrapped around your waist to keep you in place, his other hand occupied by his phone.

◇ his phone was long forgotten though, as he watched you carry in your valorant match.

◇ you play without a headset when Jack is around so that he doesn't feel closed off or ignored.

◇ this is how he hears the toxicity of Valorant though.

◇ genuinely gets angry when you get insulted.

"Bro, why you assuming aimbot? Not my fault I can actually aim." You groaned into the mic as your fingers aggressively tapped on the WASD keys. You got into yet another toxic match and it was pissing you off.

"Make me a fucking sandwich, fucking bitch."

Now that made Jack furious. The grip on your waist got tighter as he cussed the other player out into the mic. He wouldn't let anyone get off the hook so easily, not when they degraded his girl.

"Who do you think you are, fucker? Treating women like trash? You're so fucking pathetic." His voice was hoarse as he spoke, venom laced into his words.

◇ worries when you play any game that involves communication via the mic after hearing what words are exchanged.

◇ call of duty, apex, valorant.

◇ any shooter games.

◇ he just worries that the words will get to you, but seeing how much you enjoy the game, as well as the way you knew how to reply to such comments he just knew you would be okay.

◇ that wouldn't stop him from being the overprotective boyfriend, though.

◇ eventually, Jack actually wanted to spend his time gaming with you as well.

◇ you were over the moon when he had told you that.

◇ your gym addicted boyfriend? Wanting to learn about the game world?

◇ you knew you had to start easy.

◇ something cute, interactive but romantic.

◇ minecraft.

◇ he knew about minecraft. He had played it a couple times with friends, but that was years ago.

◇ he had bought the game on his phone and you helped him with his own avatar!

◇ fun fact: the name of your shared world is actually your shipname.

◇ he hits all the flowers he can find for you.

◇ his entire inventory is filled with different kinds of flowers.

◇ follows you around like a lost puppy when the two of you go hunting.

◇ wants to be your knight in shining armor, but only has flowers to smack the zombies with.

◇ screamed when a creeper blew up not so far away from him.

◇ gets distracted by the most stupid things he can find.

"do we need this web?"

"rotten flesh? Should I take it?"

"this polar bear reminds me of you babe!"

"babe help! I lose you."

"can you come get me? I think I'm lost."

◇ he loves to spend his time building you guys' house and he acts like that's actually what your house will look like.

◇ "hmm, I actually want the dinner table to be here, since you like sitting down and facing that way, right"

◇ you told him it's just a game, but he wants it to be as accurate as possible.

◇ he squealed when you tamed a cat and called it Butters.

◇ he spends time fixing cute dates in minecraft while you're busy with college: picnics, mini zoos— since he knows you're more of an indoor person.

◇ you thank him with a lot of irl kisses.

◇ all over all, he's trying for you and he enjoys spending time with you, no matter what. <3

◇ BONUS

◇ he is so jealous whenever he catches you playing gacha games.

◇ why? He always catches you drooling at some hot animated characters.

◇ sits far away frowning, arms crossed as he watches you giggling at your phone.

"Babe! I'm the real deal! He doesn't exist!"

◇ he just wants attention, pls tell him you love him. <3

#chaethewriter #jack champion is taking my brain over #jack champion x reader #jack champion #jack champion imagine #jack champion headcannons #jack champion imagines #jack champion headcanons #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader

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magics-neptunes-things · 4 days

Text

Missing

Hi guys!

So this one is a dark one to be honest. It came from a request, that you can find here :)

Thanks to @muffinpink02 for her help and understanding ♥

TW : Angst, panic attack, kidnapping, harassment, stalker, creep, police.

Frowning, Lucy looks at the clock of their shared flat. Ona was supposed to be home for one hour now, but she was still not here. She wrote her to tell her that she was ready to leave the Barcelona’s center, where she was for some media duties with Rolfö, some sponsor ship for PlayStation.

Lucy wanted to wait for her, but she was supposed to take Narla from the veterinary, where she had her vaccines done. When Ona wrote her, Lucy answered saying that she was starting diner, but since Ona told her that she can’t wait, nothing.

She tried to call her, but it was ringing in the void, Ona never answered. Lucy is really anxious now. She goes for the tenth time in three minutes looking by the window to see if Ona’s car was finally in view. But still nothing.

Coco, Ona’s dog, was really nervous too, barking at Lucy from times to times, making her jump every time. When Ona doesn’t answer Lucy try to call someone else. Her first person coming to mind was Ona’s mother, maybe her girlfriend needed to go to see her parents and she just forgot to tell her.

Her mother-in-law answered after the third bip and Lucy’s heart is beating way to fast for a good health.

“Hola Lucy. Todo bien?”

“Yes, hum listen… Is Ona with you?”

“No? Didn’t she come back with you?”

“No, she had to stay for a partnership, and she wrote me to tell me that she was coming home but she isn’t here for now.”

Lucy is speaking fast, and her English accent is stronger than ever, but Ona’s mother still manages to understand what she was saying. Lucy feels bad to worry Ona’s family, but she doesn’t know what to do.

“When did she leave?”

“More than one hour ago.”

There is a silence on the other side and Lucy doesn’t know what face Monste is doing, but she hears Ona’s father talking on the background. They talked in Catalan and Lucy have to wait for what seems like an eternity before Ona’s mother is talking at her again.

“We’ll call Joan, maybe he knows something. Try to call her again, will you?”

“Yeah. Ok. Thanks”

She hangs up and try to call Ona once more, but no one answered. She makes several calls after that, but doesn’t find something. Fridolina tell her that Ona left at the same time as her, Aitana hasn’t news from Ona, just like Alexia, Cata, Salma, Jana and every single one person she tried to call.

She was in the middle of a nervous breakdown when Joan sent her a message.

“I’m at four minutes of your apartment, come open to me please.”

Lucy does and Joan seems really anxious too.

“You don’t have news.”

Lucy shakes her head at that, and she doesn’t need the confirmation that Joan doesn’t have anything either. She sights, joining her hands behind her head.

“What are we doing?”

“We’ll call the hospitals around her and if they have nothing, we go to the police station.”

Lucy nods, happy to have a real plan. Something to do. Joan told her that his parents were in their car, looking around if they can find Ona or her car or anything. But for now, they haven’t found anything.

The hospitals haven’t anything for them too. No car accidents, no Ona Batlle, no woman who lose consciousness. Nothing. It’s maybe a good new, but it’s letting them in the dark too.

Lucy’s shaking when Joan takes them to the police station. She doesn’t say anything, her phone kept buzzing because a lot of people are worried about Ona, but it isn’t Ona. And she’s starting to get annoyed by all the notifications who aren’t the one she wants.

The Batlle were already in front of the building and Joan pass a protective arm around his mother’s shoulder when they entered.

“My daughter is missing” Ona’s father says, the worried of his tone attracting the officer’s attention.

“Since when?” he asks, typing on his computer.

“This afternoon”

“How old is she?”

“24” Ona’s mother answers.

The police officer frowns, looking at the family with an embarrassed face. Lucy feels like she already knows what he will say before he opens his mouth.

“You have to wait more 24 hours to signalize a missing case for an adult, I’m sorry.”

“No” Lucy interrupts, coming closer of the office. “You don’t understand. She would never leave like that, she sent me a text saying that she was coming home. She was supposed to walk her dog which she loves like her son tonight. She has all her life here. Her parents, her brother…”

“Her girlfriend too” Joan cuts softly. “She would never disappear like that. I swear.”

The officer bites his lips and seems to think for several seconds before standing from his chair.

“Come with me.”

********

One hour later, Lucy is almost screaming of frustration. The officer asked them thousand questions about Ona, but they still are in this office without looking for her. They are wasting so much time that it’s make her sick.

Someone knocks on the door and Lucy turns in the direction of the woman who just entered the room. With her long blond and pink hair and her outrageous clothes, she makes her think of Garcia from Criminal Minds.

“Hi. I can start to localize her phone if you want me to.”

Lucy wants to kneel in front of her in a sign of thankfulness, but she manages to keep a little of sense.

“Please” only answer the other officer.

Lucy was standing so she can have a perfect look at the computer the woman was using. Everything feels so unreal. It was very different from what happened on TV, she learned that they needed to ask Ona’s subscription service for her phone before tracking her.

After some long minutes, they have an answer and Lucy frowns when she looks closer at the map.

“It’s near the training ground” Lucy mumbles.

“Ok, let’s go.”

She was surprised by the officer reaction, after all those times inside, she was starting to think that they will never leave the building again.

“I’m coming too” Lucy decided.

She’s followed by Joan, who tell her parents to stay here. Just in case Ona would reappear. Lucy is not stupid, she knows that it could be for another reason, but she doesn’t want to think about it for now.

The journey to the training ground is longer than never and she starts to get nauseous. She read without any concentration Keira’s text informing her that she just took Narla and Coco home after their walk. The night was here now, the sky dark and the air fresh.

The woman, Lucy learns that she’s named Maria after hearing her colleagues calling her, is still on her computer, looking if the signal is moving. But it’s not, Ona’s phone is still at the same place. When they arrived, Lucy almost jumps off the car and started looking frantically around her.

The parking lot is desert, but she can’t resist and calls Ona’s name.

“It’s around here” Maria says, pointing somewhere with her finger.

They all follow the right direction and it’s Joan who find it first.

“Here. It’s her phone.”

He turns the screen on, and Lucy sees all the notifications Ona received those last hours. Her missed calls and messages, her parents’ calls, Joan’s calls… A lot of people try to call her or message her. The screen is broken at various places, making her frown. Ona was always very careful with her phone, unlike her who goes almost every month to change her screen.

She told it to the officers who take note of it. After that, they start to look for proves or anything who can explain where Ona is.

********

Almost twenty-four hours later, Lucy is again in the police station. They hadn’t found anything for now, but they ask her to come here anyway. She was at the Batlle��s house when she received the call and of course they came with her. So is Joan.

“Did you find something?” she asks as soon as the door is closed.

“Maybe. We look into her phone to see if we can find anything interesting and we maybe have something. Did she talk to you about someone following her?”

“What? No.”

Lucy’s face is suddenly white, and Ona’s father has to put a hand on her shoulder to prevent her from falling. She sits on a chair next to Ona’s mother, frowning. Ona never told her anything about that, why would she keep something like that from her?

“What about you?” he asks Ona’s parents.

They shake their head, but next to his mother, Joan seems suddenly uncomfortable. He cracks his throat before answering.

“She told me one time that someone creepy sent her several messages on Instagram, but nothing more.”

“When was it?” the policeman asks, typing on his computer.

“Like two months ago?”

The officer nods, but next to her son, Ona’s mother was fuming.

“Why didn’t you said anything? It’s your little sister Joan, you were supposed to protect her! I swear if something happened to her…”

“Stop, it’s not his fault” Ona’s father cuts.

“What did she say?” the officer asks like nothing happened.

“Nothing really. She was frowning while reading something on her phone and I teased her asking what Lucy was saying. She answers me that it wasn’t her Lucia but some creeps who seems always making new account and managed to gets in her DM. Which is strange because you have to be friends with her or one of her friends to send her a message.”

Lucy says nothing, but she feels like she might be throwing up. She knows her girlfriend and is pretty sure that she never mentioned it not to scared Lucy who is already a little much to protective. Of course, if she knew that, she would have never let Ona alone a single second. The English woman takes her face in her hands, trying to keep a normal breathing.

“She never told you anything?”

Lucy doesn’t have to look up to know that the question is asking at her. She’s her girlfriend, Ona was used to tell her everything. The fact that she kept something who can bother her, who maybe kept her awake at night is eating her alive.

Just like Ona’s parents before, Lucy just shakes her head. She hears more typing and someone rubbing her back.

“Are you able to find that guy?” Ona’s father asks.

“We are working on it. We think that Ona deleted the other conversations and blocked him every time, so he deleted the accounts too. Of course, we will do everything we can.”

Lucy wants to tell that they better find him otherwise she will, but she knows better. She takes her hands off her face and takes a deep breath. The lights in the room are hurting her eyes now and she can see her parents-in-law faces and Joan who seems ready to cry.

“We will call you when we have some news. But please, don’t do anything alone, it could be worse than anything. I know how it can be frustrating, but please. It’s better for Ona.”

“Can I have her phone back?” Lucy asks.

She needs to have something belonging to Ona, something she had before she disappeared. The man offers her a sad smile while answering.

“Not now, I’m sorry.”

“It’s just that she maybe has some photos I don’t and…”

“I understand, I promise. You will have it as soon as possible.”

Lucy sights and get up, following Joan outside the office. She was stopped by Maria who discreetly calls her.

“Hey, I heard about the pictures. I can put some of them on a USB or something if you want?”

Lucy might cry to be honest or hug the other woman. But she just nods, mumbling a “thanks”.

“I can look at the pictures, right? Nothing spicy or anything?”

“Oh! No, we… Hum. No, you can have a look.”

She gets a little red, but having a normal conversation feels really great. She doesn’t add anything though, not wanting to say that they have found another way to sent each other dirty things. Especially when they were separated during national camps or something.

“Do you need a ride, Lucy?” Ona’s father asks when she joined them outside.

“No, thanks. I’d like to walk if it’s ok with you.”

“Sure. We talk soon.”

Lucy hums and nod to them to say goodbye. She’s already at the end of the street when she hears someone running after her. She got scared for a second, but she soon realizes that it’s only Joan.

“Do you mind if I come with you?” he asks softly.

“Course not.”

“Thanks”

There is a silence between them for several seconds, Lucy looking thoughtfully at her feet while walking. It’s almost the middle of the night once again, the streets are quieter than during the day.

“If I knew what would happen…” Joan starts, but Lucy cuts it right away.

“I know, Joan. It’s not your fault.”

He seems skeptical but doesn’t say anything. For sure his mother’s reaction startled him, but Lucy can’t really take against Ona’s mother. Everyone reacts in their own way.

“I thought that you knew. Why didn’t she talk about it?”

“Knowing her, certainly not to worry me.” Lucy grumbles. “She will hear me when we find her, I can tell you.”

She regrets her words as soon as she says it. She tried very hard from the beginning not to think about what Ona is living at this moment, sometimes it comes to her mind, and she gets panic attacks. But deep down, she knows that Ona is still alive somewhere. If the love of her life isn’t here anymore, she will know it, right?

********

Like every night since Ona’s went missing, Lucy isn’t sleeping at night. She’s on her balcony, looking at the lights of the city from afar. Their dogs sometimes come to stay with her, sometimes they don’t.

She’s hugging desperately the stupidly big teddy bear she won for her during her trip to London at the end of the year 2023. They had to send it with the post to have it in Barcelona because of the size of it. Ona laughed when Lucy told her that she will win one of them for her. But she did and they have this daily reminder in her flat.

The Spaniard confessed one night that she sleeps huddled against the teddy bear when Lucy is away. Lucy made fun of her a lot after that, but now she can relate. It smells like Ona, and she can’t even explain how much she missed her girlfriend.

Lucy isn’t crying during the day when she’s with other people. But when she’s alone on her balcony at night, she’s actually crying a lot. She talks to her friends sometimes, but she needs some time apart too.

She’s asleep on the couch when her phone wakes her up the morning after. She’s not going to training obviously, even if Ona’s disappearance is secret for now, their friends know. The police said it was because they had a solid clue and if it wasn’t that man, they’ll start the whole process when someone goes missing.

“Holà?” Lucy groans.

“Bon dia Lucia, this is Maria from the police station. I have what I told you about yesterday, you can pass to take it when you want.”

“Oh, nice. I’ll be here in thirty minutes, I think. Thanks.”

They said their goodbyes and Lucy stand up to take a shower. The dogs are peacefully sleeping after their morning walk and having their food. Thirty minutes later, she’s entering the police station and go to the reception desk to ask to talk to Maria.

The blonde takes her into her office to give the USB disk, not to get any suspicion from her colleagues.

“I don’t know how to thanks you enough” Lucy mumbles while looking at the little object. “You don’t know how much it means to me.”

“I can only imagine. If my boyfriend went missing…”

She doesn’t finish her sentence, but Lucy understands very well what she’s saying. That’s why she doesn’t add anything else too. She just put it on her purse before looking again at the blonde.

“I better go.”

Maria comes with her to the entry, giving her an encouraging smile. Lucy doesn’t respond to it though, she feels like her muscles don’t know how to smile any more.

“Thank you again” Lucy says. “Will you call me if you have something new?”

“Of course we will.”

She wants to add something like how much she needs them to find Ona, but she can’t. Her throat is locked, her mouth is dry, and her heart is like squeezed in her chest. She has to try though, so she looks at the blonde one more time, but when she opens her mouth, she hears another voice.

“We have him! Maria where are you?! Vamos! Now!”

There is an agitation and Maria run to take something on her office. The officer who talked to Lucy and the Batlle yesterday is running too but stop dead in his track when he sees Lucy.

“What are you doing here?”

“… I came to see if you had news. Where are you going?”

“We can’t say.”

But Lucy wasn’t taking it. She knows that she would be something better if she just shut her mouth and let them work, but she can’t. Not when the hope she feels is burning like this.

“Ok, don’t tell me. I’ll follow you.”

“It’s ok Ricardo, I can take her in my car. You know that I won’t be in the action anyway.”

He sighs but Maria sends him a big goofy smile and he seems to decide that he can’t lose any more time. He just growls at Maria and go to the exit to his car. Other police men and women are running into different cars too and Lucy follow Maria like if her life depended of it. Well, it is the case actually.

She sits on the passenger side of the car, her legs bouncing up and down without stopping. She doesn’t want to let the hope consume her, but in another hand, she can’t help it. Maybe Ona is only a few minutes from her now. Maybe she is only five minutes from being able to hug her again, to feel her against her.

She’s biting her nails when Maria talks, seeming to take her nervousness for something else.

“You know, there is still hope that we can find her alive, right? Don’t lose hope for now.”

Lucy feels her stomach drops. She wasn’t imagining that she will face the possibility of being in the need to mourn the loss of her girlfriend. She almost forgot that it was a possible ending.

She feels nauseous now.

She closes her eyes to try to calm her breathing but reopen them when the car stopped. They are in a distant area from Barcelona’s center, in what people might call the suburbs. They stopped around a small house, who doesn’t seem to be really good maintained. The white the paint looks run down, the shutters are almost all closed and the garden has clearly not been mowed for many months.

“Maria, call the medics service please” came Ricardo’s voice from the radio.

The blonde approves and passes the call, while Lucy is looking by the window. She’s looking at those five men going to knock on the door and waiting for someone to come answer.

She can’t see the person who open the door, but when the police men, with Ricardo first, entered the door, she can’t help but get out of the car.

********

Everything is blur for Ona. Her head hurt her like crazy when she tries to get up from the floor where she’s lying. She doesn’t know since when, being in the dark doesn’t help her to know how many times has passed since she’s here.

She’s tired too, even if she’s not awake a lot of time. Eating make her feel more nauseous so she usually just ignores the different trails who are proposed to her. She drinks water though; she knows that she has to stay hydrated at least.

There is a man talking to her sometimes too, but she has to concentrate a lot to understand what he’s saying. She’s just so confused all the time.

She thinks a lot about what happened though. One moment she was sending a message to her girlfriend, the next she gets hit on the head and faint. The next thing she knows is that she’s in this room without any explanation.

Her assailant is sometimes asking her who she belongs to, but she hasn’t found the right answer for now. She answered no one, my girlfriend, my parents and even God, but none of those answers seems to satisfy the man. He got angry every time, throwing different things at her. The last time she received a bottle on her forehead, cutting her skin.

She passes her time thinking about Lucy, her family, and friends. She wonders if they start looking for her, if they called the police and if the police start something to find her. She wonders how much they are worried and if they are already on the right direction.

She thinks about Lucy the most, but really hope that her mother isn’t to much scared. She asks herself sometimes why she doesn’t mention that creep to Lucy and if Joan did the rapprochement and talked about it to someone else.

It's usually very calm on the house, but she suddenly hears screams, different deaf noises that she doesn’t understand and several people running.

She got scared and try to get up, ignoring her head who immediately start to turn. She helps herself against the wall, squeezing her eyes shut hard. There is suddenly a loud bang against the door and two men entering the room. The light from outside makes her eyes burn.

“It’s her! She’s here!” she hears someone scream and other voices saying something she can’t understand.

There is a man kneeling next to her and she realize that she falls back on the floor.

“Ona. I’m Ricardo, I work for the Police. I am here to take you out of here, ok? Can you stand up?”

Ona doesn’t know if the man is able to hear her answer, but he passes her arm around her waist to help her. She manages to get up, using a lot of the man’s help. The journey to get out from the house seems to be longer than a year, but she’s finally struck by the fresh air of the outside.

She hears other voices around her that she doesn’t understand at first, but then there is one of them that stands out from the others.

Lucy.

It’s Lucy.

The realization makes her open her eyes, looking frantically around her. The Spaniard saw the blue lights of the ambulance and the one of the police cars, but when she finally is able to catch Lucy’s silhouette, nothing else matter.

The English woman takes her in her arms and it’s only now that Ona realized that she will going home. And that she’s safe.

“Oh my god” Lucy mumble with a raspy voice and she hugs Ona even harder.

“Be careful, she might be hurt” someone says.

But Ona is grabbing Lucy’s hoodie with all the strength she has, hugging her back. Closing her eyes again, she breaths Lucy sent and let herself being invaded by everything.

She is safe, in her girlfriend’s arms. Everything is fine now.

********

Hours later, Ona hasn’t let Lucy go in any way. Only when her parents and her brother came to find her in the hospital maybe. But soon after Lucy grabs her hand in hers and hasn’t let it go since.

She came with Ona when the doctor made the different checkups, trying to determinate what Ona is suffering from.

She has a concussion coming from the hit she received on the head and some side effects from the anesthetic she received all too often during the day. She has to have stitch on her forehead too, but other than that she was ok.

It seems to be too good to be true for Lucy, honestly. She kept looking discreetly at the different parts of her girlfriend’s body, looking for wound or anything else. But there is nothing. She’s glad to the officer who asks Ona if that man touch her in any way, not wanting to ask the question herself. Ona answered no and she just have to look at her face to know it’s the truth.

The Spaniard slept a lot the next hours, unlike Lucy. She just looked at her girlfriend not really peaceful face, softly tracing her face with her fingers to try to help her relax in her sleep.

When Ona wakes up again in the morning, she seems a little more alert.

“How are you feeling?” Lucy whispers while looking at her.

“My head still hurt a little” the brunette answers. “What about you?”

Lucy frowns at the question. She doesn’t really know what to answer at that. Everything seems unreal for now.

“I’m okay” finally answers Lucy.

Ona hums and let her head rest on the cushion, looking at her girlfriend attentively. Lucy seems exhausted, dark patches are under her eyes, her face is pale, and her eyes are red.

“Come.”

She pats a spot next to her, asking her girlfriend to come lay next to her. Lucy seems to hesitate at first, but Ona just has to pout a little for her to give up. Being extremely careful not to hurt Ona, she joins her in the bed.

Lucy wants to explain how much she was scared, how much she wouldn’t have support to lose her, but she can’t find the words. Ona seems to understand her girlfriend’s feeling easily though.

“I’m sorry” she whispers, cuddling against Lucy.

“Don’t. It wasn’t your fault.”

She isn’t really ok with that, but she chose not to answer anything. They will have the possibility to argue about that some days later. Not now.

“I was so scared not to see you again.”

At that, Lucy closes her eyes and feels hot tears burning her eyes. Ona’s confession resonates in her like never before. She hides her face in Ona’s long hairs and take her against her.

“Me too. I already knew that I can’t live without you, but now… It’s out of the question that you take a step without me being around.”

“It works for me” Ona mumble.

She can’t hide the yawn who escape her, making Lucy smile softly. Stroking once again her lover’s face, Lucy looks at her at the same time, with all the love she feels for her.

“Sleep baby. I’m looking for you now.”

“You need to sleep to, mi Amor. You look exhausted.”

“I can live with a nap” the English woman approves.

She lets Ona getting more comfortable before passing her arms around her. Usually, they are sleeping with Ona being the little spoon or being lying on Lucy’s stomach. Today though, they are facing each other. Lucy lets Ona mix her legs with hers before kissing her softly.

In two seconds, Ona is out of the world, soon followed by Lucy.

And it’s in that exact position that Ona’s parents and Joan find them when they come to visit Ona, four hours later.

#woso imagine #woso fanfics #ona batlle #ona batlle imagine #woso one shot #lucy bronze imagine #lucy bronze #ona batlle x lucy bronze #lucy bronze x ona batlle

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j-u-u-z-o · 1 year

Text

Just Chillin’ (Atsumu x Reader)

Written by me.

Synopsis: Reader is staying over Atsumu’s house after school and they’re both chillin in his bedroom until one move made them needy for each other before they get caught in the middle of the act?

AN: in case you didn’t know, I’m a slut for atsumu and this thought came to mind early in the morning. Hope you enjoy; like/comment or reblog is appreciated! 💕

Warning: high school seniors , minors, grammar, smut, parents are home, lovebirds, caught??

——————————————————————————

After a long and tiring four days, it’s finally Friday. You had taken your midterms and ‘Tsumu had long practices and midterms on top of it. You both didn’t really have time for each other until today.

During class, He asked if you wanted to do something after his practice but you didn’t want to. You wanted time with your boyfriend. So you suggested staying over at his house for a few hours.

After dismissal, You were waiting for Tsumu by the school’s entrance after saying goodbye to your friends. After a few minutes, you heard his loud cocky voice and you turned your head to the source. He’s laughing along with his teammates as he talks about the upcoming game against karasuno.

“Haha…yeah. We’re so gonna win this and then -oh! Y/n-Chan~!” He said and waved at you. You smiled at him. Tsumu walks towards you in his white volleyball sweat suit and his backpack on his left shoulder.

“Hey Tsumu.” You looked up at him and smiled warmly.

“Hey Baby.” He cooed and gave a quick peck on your lips. “Were ya waiting for me?” He asked as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders while admiring your beautiful smile. You nodded and tip-toed to rub the tip of your nose with his.

“Get a room, you lovebirds!” Osamu said in disgust.

“Hey, y/n. Thanks for your review notes for English literature. It helped me a lot.” Suna said.

“Shut up, dumbass ‘Samu!” Atsumu turned his at his twin brother. You giggled at the twins and held Atsumu’s hand to signal to stop bickering with him. “Let’s go, Tsumu.”

“See ya guys tomorrow!!” He shouted and waved to his teammates. Osamu decided to go to Suna’s place to study for his upcoming exam and you and atsumu started walking together to his house.

Of course, the walk home took forever because Atsumu’s kept kissing you in every corner with every chance he got. It was getting annoying but you didn’t complain, nevertheless. Finally, the two of you have made it to the front door of his house and atsumu unlocked it.

“Tadaima.” He said while taking of his shoes and you did the same.

Ah! Okaeri, Atsumu! Oh - and y/n~!” His mom said happily in her apron. “Osamu?”

“He’s stayin’ at Suna’s house to study and will eat dinner late, ma.”

“ I see. Well I’m preparing dinner now so you two can hang out together for a while, okay? Make yourself at home, y/n!” She smiled at you and walked back to the kitchen.

“Yes, Mrs. Miya and thank you. Let me know if you’d like me to hel-“ you were cut off when atsumu took your hand and walked up the stairs.

“I thought ya wanted to chill with me, baby.” He said walking up stairs. “We haven’t seen each other since Monday and that was before exams started.” He opened his bedroom door.

“Sorry, Tsumu. She’s so nice I can’t help it.” You giggled as you watched him fall on his back on the bed - feet still on the floor. “You should be more nice to your mother. Especially when there’s guests in the house.” You said and walked to get a game controller and turned on his PlayStation.

“I guess…” he said offhandedly as he took his phone out and unlocked it. Reading his notifications. You shook your head and focused on what game you want to play.

Assassins Creed or God of War? you held the two games up and decided on playing the former. You walked to astumu and leaned to quickly kiss him on the lips before turning your back to the TV.

Both of your knees lay on each side of his legs on the bed as you sat in his lap. You pressed X to “continue playing.”

The sounds of clashing and screaming fills the unlit room. He’s scrolling through his tik tok watching volleyball videos. Once in a while you hear him snort at something he watched and his lower body moved abit.

“Oh my god. I gotta show them this video before practice.” He said to himself while laughing. Once in a while, atsumu looks over his phone to check on you by caressing the back of your calf. You give a small “mmm” to let him know that you’re okay and then he looks back down at his phone.

Minutes have passed and you both start to smell food that has just started cooking. But you don’t say anything. Atsumu spreads his legs a little more so that he won’t get a cramp; but to also not lose the feeling of your warm weight above him.

“What time is it, Tsumu?”

“Mm..’is almost 6pm. Ya wanna snack?” He said as he raised himself and laid his chin on your shoulder with his arms wrapped around your waist and looked at the tv screen. “Not really, I thought I lost track of time even though it’s been like 30 minutes or something.” You shrugged and leaned back against his chest.

“Alrighty then.” He sighed and kissed your neck after pulling your collar down. “Don’t forget ta Press O and X to shoot and run at the same time,babe. Running away ain’t gonna help ya.” He said as he looked up at the screen again. You giggled “wanna help me, Tsumu?”

“Nah. Ya on your own. I know ya can do it, babe.” He chuckled. However, when you’re struggling to survive in the game you bounced on him in annoyance.

He gasped at the feeling. One arm is wrapped around your waist and his other hand moved down under your skirt - to lay it on your inner thigh. His hand is so warm that you spread your knees wider to feel more of his touch. But you didn’t think much of it.

“I need to look for more knives and a spot to hide.” You mumbled to yourself.

Atsumu moved his hand down in your thigh- Close to your panties and caresses it. You looked down at the action that’s happening under your uniform skirt and turned your head to him. “Tsumu? What are you doing?” You asked. “Jus’ wanna feel ya, is all.” He said looking at you with slight smirk. “I missed you so much.” He ended with a pout.

“I’m right here.” You snorted as you turned your head back to the game. Atsumu hummed in agreement and kissed your right cheek.

A few more minutes passed and the level of the game gets harder that you didn’t realize that your body is leaning a bit forward - your lower body grounding itself on your boyfriend. His member, that is.

You felt his fingers brush lightly against your covered area. The feeling was distracting you from the sudden ambush in the game. So you leaned forward more to slightly lift yourself from the gentle touch.

Atsumu smirked when he looked up at you. He knows you’re trying to evade him. He Lightly chuckled as the fact that you’re Pretending that you don’t like it. But that doesn’t stop his fingertips from rubbing against your covered pussy no matter how much you try to push yourself away.

“Tsumu, stop”. You said softly. You’re being mindful about his Mom for crying out loud! Plus she’s making dinner. But it’s been a while since you’ve been close to him. So…to play “devils advocate”, You used this opportunity to grind on his clothed member. Slowly with good measure while battling a random beast in the forest.

Atsumu leaned back a bit as he looks at you - watching you grind on him from the back. “Babe…” He breathed. Mesmerized by you grinding on him.

“Shut up. You started this, tsumu.” You retort and blushed.

You can’t see his face but he’s biting his lip as he’s looks at the side of your face. “But I got a better idea, babe.” He whispered close to your ear. His hot breathe made clench -on nothing- but you’re low key curious about what he’s thinking about.

He slowly pushes your panty aside and starts to rub your clit in circles. The feeling of his fingertips feels rough but the friction feels so good as you’re starting to get wet. Still sitting on his lap in reverse - laying both knees on each side of his legs, jut your hips forward to grind on his fingertips.

“Mm…” you bit your lip when you clenched again at the sensation. Pausing the game, “Tsumu, put it in.” You said impatiently. He pulled out his cock and rubbed it between your wet lips and then aligned himself in your entrance. You slowly lowered yourself as his girth slid inside you easily thanks to your arousal.

You heard Atsumu mouth a heavy breath against your ear and felt him place his hands on your upper thighs as you began to grind on him and went back to the game. “Oh fuck, baby” he moaned and laid his forehead on your shoulder.

You mouth shaped an “o” when you felt him throb inside you as you played the game. His big hands gripped and caressed your inner thighs mimicking how his cock feels inside of you before he kissed your neck lovingly.

“Unh…Tsumu.” You moaned. You love it when he feels you up. Touching and caresses you in a perfect rhythm.

“Mmm..”he hummed in response. Too focused on your hips grinding in circles and your pussy clenching him every time. He moves one of his hands down to rub your clit with his fingertips to reward you.

This time, you lift yourself and dropped. he moaned a “Ohh..!” a bit loudly and moved his hands on your hips to keep you in place. “Ohh fuck.” He hissed and picked up the remote to raise the volume. You smiled at the tv screen on purpose. “Mmm…just like that, baby.” Atsumu groaned as you kept moving in circles- jutting your hips forward every time the veins on his cock rubbed against your clit.

The bed bounced as you topped him in reverse and Atsumu’s hands never left your hips to anchor you. Especially when he scooted off the edge of his bed a little to thrust deeply into you. You yelped at a particularly hard thrust that you almost dropped the game controller. “Tsumu..!” You whispered to him loudly.

“Mmmm…?” He said while bucking up against you deeply. You weren’t sure if that was an answer or a moan as you were distracted by his long strokes. You wanted to protest but the sensation and the pace was too much.

You forgot about the game as You were breathless each time he hit that spot and the bouncing of your breasts inside your buttoned down shirt made you feel hot. Especially his grip on your hips which will definitely leave marks on you.

You try to call his name offhandedly due to the bouncing. “Tsu-!”

“Atsumu? Y/n? You two are okay?” His mother said. The two of you snapped your heads to the door as she tried to turn the bedroom knob.

It’s locked.

“Yeah we’re good. We’re jus’ playing my video game.”

“Oh. Y/n? Do you need anything? A snack or water?”

“Ah..erm..n-no thank you, Mrs. Miya” you managed to say. Still breathless -in disguise- as you’re currently getting bottomed out by Atsumu who doesn’t know when to stop. Especially right now.

“Okay. Well dinner will be ready in about 15 minutes.” She said softly and walked downstairs.

“A-atsumu!” You said breathlessly as he puts both hands under your knees and lays on his back and started thrusting slowly and deeply. He grinds in circles; Focused on the feeling of your tight walls and pussy taking him so well. You winced at the feeling of your sore legs but eventually relieved now that it’s raised after laying them on the bed for a long time.

“Ugh…Your pussy feels so good, baby.” He groaned and spreads your legs wider to get deeper into your pussy. You look down at the action. His thighs hitting the back of yours, your ass jiggling each time he’s bucking into you. You can even see the red tip of his cock reappearing each time.

You’re breathing uncontrollably due to his controlled thrusts. Your breasts bouncing in your buttoned shirt that you bit your lip and dropped your head back and closed your eyes. You even dropped the game controller on to the side.

“Rub that clit for me, baby.” He said breathing heavily. You followed and rubbed it in circles as you suddenly whined when you clenched tightly at the sensation. Atsumu responded by changing his pace quickly that you moaned his name, heavily.

He raises his head off the bed and opens his mouth. breathing heavily at the feeling of your pussy clenching him. “That’s it,baby. That’s it.” He whispers knowing that your climax is reaching soon.

“Yeah..yeah.” He breathed. feeling your pussy clench and starts squelching at his thrusts. He raised himself and his hands holds on to your inner thighs as he bucks into you. You turn face to the side a bit to kiss him passionately.

“Tsumu, I’m gonna cum…” you breathed into his mouth.

“We’re almost there, baby” he smiled in the kiss and wraps an around you as the other starts to rub your clit with enough measure. You moved your hands to the sides to grip the sheets.

You hips starts to gyrate and you breathe hastily in his mouth as you reach your climax. “Unh…s-sumu” you moaned as he bucks fast to reach his climax too.

He rubs your clit in circles quickly. “Ugh.! Ah..ah..” You said breathlessly each time in his mouth as you squirted on the bedsheets and on the floor. “That’s my girl.” He praised before he grunted and pulled out.

“Mmm…” he said kissing you deeply while still rubbing your sore clit, softly. He puts his cock back inside and slowly rolls his hips because he just can’t get enough of your warmth. Tongue kissing you and kissing you again passionately.

You broke the kiss and looked at him in the eyes. He looks so pussy drunk. you think to yourself. You giggled at his face as you grinded your throbbing pussy against his fingertips. “Mmm..Tsumu…let’s clean up.”

“Hmm..?” He looking at you expectantly now caressing your spreaded inner thighs.

Your pussy must have taken him to another world or something. You think again. “So…I need to get up now, dummy” you giggled.

His eyes widened. “Ohhh..yeah. We should.” He smiled droopily. You pinched his cheek.

You lift yourself off of his lap and walked -limped- to his dresser to get towels. Atsumu chuckled. “Ya need help with that, baby?” He asked while putting his dick back in his sweat pants.

You rolled your eyes as you threw a towel at his face and slowly bent down to clean up the mess on the floor.

“Atsumu! Y/n! Come downstairs. Dinner is ready!” His mother announced.

The thought of going downstairs worries you because of your sore legs that your face couldn’t hide the pain. What would his mom think caused it? You were playing videos games. You don’t want her to be suspicious.

“You sure about that baby?” Atsumu asked as he looked at you while he pulling the bedsheet from his bed.

“Shut up, Tsumu!” You pouted and threw the wet towel but you missed.

Atsumu chuckled. “Ha! You missed.” He sticked his tongue out.

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