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#Spitting on someone is assault
coochiequeens · 5 months
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So glad she got away from the dude. And the church coming out to support her instead of just pleading for her to stay because...... "divorce makes Jesus sad" is a pleasant surprise.
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captaindeinony · 5 months
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Akari and Rei in Masters are TOO NICE where is your signature skepticism
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chrollohearttags · 5 months
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UNDER THE INFLUENCE | e. jaeger
content + themes: our fav sluts being sluts, spit play, drunk sex, possessive eren, makeup sex if you squint, very vocal eren, he’s kinda a switch, oral sex, mentions of pregnancy/breeding, foot play, lots of praise, dirty talk, squirting, (daddy, princess, baby used) overstimulation..I mean, the ask says it all…there’s so much more though.
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📝: shoutouts to you, anon. 🤞🏾🤍 (couldn’t find this in my inbox but I surely screenshotted it a while ago and decided to circle back!). Consider this my consolation for putting y’all through it. 😁
───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰──── ───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰────
addiction. A word with negative connotations almost every time it was uttered. A word that signified the need, the craving and desire for one thing..for some, it was drugs. For others, it was alcohol and for EJ? It was you… “Mmph!—okayyy, Eren! Baby, please…at least let us get through the door.”
“Nah…need you so bad right now. ‘Don’t know what to do..” although, he wouldn’t exactly consider it a bad thing! After all, you drew him in and he never wanted you to release the grip that was your love. But just as it was with any vice, when someone faces withdrawals, their next hit was going to be the best one. And for Eren, he was determined to get his fill! Making your way back to the hotel room where you had been residing during you guys’ stay in Los Angeles. It wasn’t a city that either of you visited often but you had gotten quite the opportunity to work with a large brand and wasn’t about to turn it down for anything. Of course, your doting husband was right by your side. Which came as a surprise to those who were on social media, feeding into the never ending rumor mill that swore you guys were splitting up. Allegations of cheating, fighting…it had caused quite the rift between you two but now, he was planning to rectify any mistakes or confusion..
“C’mon, mama..don’t hold it from me right now. Lemme eat that pussy.” Pleading in a whiny huff, he’d steady you against the wall, hands scouring your frame as he peeled those articles of clothing away from your body. Sliding that silk dress down far enough to expose your perfect tits. His lips, fresh with the scent of liquor still on them. A result of the copious amounts he had been drinking all night. Once your appearance was over, a lively after party was hosted at a nightclub and you both indulged in the amenities offered..him a lot more than you! Hennessy, Ace of Spades and vodka, he had been mixing it all and with that combination coursing his veins, he was much more lecherous than usual. He’d suckle on those erect nipples, sloppily lapping at those brown buds as he groped your breasts. Meanwhile, he was rolling the hem of your dress up and propping one of those toned legs on his shoulder. He was ravenous..craving you with all he had and was going to show you just how much! “Take it!..yes, baby—“ a finger slid between your teeth as you observed him sinking to his knees and spreading you open. “Imma fuck the shit ‘out you, I swear..” That heat was slathered in glistening slick; only partially covered by that lacy garment. He didn’t even bother to remove them when he began his rapid ascent into your juicy cunt. “You can have all this dick…just lemme taste you first, baby..” Slurping loudly with that swollen clit puckered between his lips. Nose brushing against your covered mound; folds making contact with his tongue, especially when your fingers were coiled around his thick, dark locks. Grinding your slit against his face. And he’d devour it..in his drunken haze, Eren smacked, sucked and licked at your sex vigorously. Not worried about the mess trickling down to his chin or diamond chain. Even when you shook violently from your first orgasm. He wanted all that you had..
“Put that shit in my face, mama. Use me..you deserve it.” Continuing his feasting assault. He was enjoying touching, kissing and peppering your most sensitive areas with affection. “Y’know how much I missed you? Missed kissing on this pretty pussy…” He couldn’t help himself, truly. Watching you strut about in that dress, dance and shake your ass with a drink in hand…it drove him crazy so when he got behind closed doors, you were all his. So much so, he’d become as freaky and fluid with you as he desired…. “Matter of fact…spit in my fucking mouth. Lemme taste that shit.” Lobbing a long string down to his lips where he’d graciously swallow and continue devouring you. Squeezing at your breasts, (y/n) rolled your hips and rode his face with all you had. “Oh God, it feels so good!—eating this shit so good, baby..” He’d slap and spank your ass, squeezing those plump cheeks..getting more than his fill of his beautiful wife. In a moment of haste, he’d rise from his knees and cradle you in one fell swoop. Sweeping you from your feet to carry you over to the bed, where he’d toss you to finish stripping you from your clothes and eventually, doing the same of his own.
“Eren…”
“Yeah, princess? Tell me what you need..tell me everything you want..”
huffing as he tore off his shirt and unbuckled his pants..whilst he did so, he’d watch you spread your legs slightly; revealing that line of slick he had drawn up. He couldn’t wait to sink his cock in between those fat pussy lips..feel that tight warmth once again and reclaim your body as his own. Whilst he’d do so, you were rubbing and massaging your clit; curling your legs up in the air..
“..Need you to fuck me..want that dick so bad…”
whilst listening to your demands, he’d stroke himself from the base to the tip, getting his already stiff hard on even more erect. Chewing at his lower lip as he watched you toy with that plump cunt. It looked so good, he put in his mind right then and there that he may never pull out. You were going to be stuffed full of his cum.
“Then open them legs, baby..hold ‘em open..” traipsing straight up to you; placing a knee in the center of the bed as you spread yourself to his desire. That slit was overflowing with arousal and waiting for him to sink his cock in between those walls. You were already pulsating, recollecting the last time he had truly made love to you. With his entire being…fucking you slowly and relentlessly until you screamed out his name. Clawing your nails into his back until sharp red marks were left and every last droplet of his nut was housed inside of you after emptying those giant balls of his. You needed it and he craved you all the same. So without another moment of hesitation, after tapping himself against you..he’d glide right in.
“Oh my—fuuuck, baby. You feel so good. That pussy’s so tight..”
howling out as if it were the first time all over again. Regardless of how many times he took claim of you, the ever so familiar clutch and grip of your hole remained. Almost as if it were perfectly designed for him. He didn’t waste another second in trying to adjust or acclimate but rather, feeding you rhythmic, fluid strokes. Clawing a hand through his chocolate locks, Eren honed in on you and ensured that you felt every single thrust. “..goddamn…look at that shit. She’s creaming on me…you missed me too, baby? You missed daddy?” Cooing to both you and your needy cunt..referring to the milky sheath dripping all down shaft and balls. “Yes, daddy! Fuck!…I missed you so much. Missed the way you fucked me…” Although he was still gaining his stride, it took no time for your bodies to become reconnected. Housing him like that of a glove after each stroke. Regardless of his lack of sobriety, he was love drunk on you any day of the week and that would never change. With your quivering legs resting on his shoulders, he’d grab and position your foot to the center of his chest and kept a hold onto it. Suddenly, his lips would make home on the instep and ankle, ravaging it with soft and tender kisses. By then, his pace had begun to speed up and his opposite hand was circulating near your clit; massaging the sensitive bud with his thumb pad. Once he heard your response, he’d started to throb inside of you, loving how desperate you were for him..time and distance regardless.
“I know, princess…I’m so sorry I was away from you..” just then, you’d feel the sensation of your white painted toes gliding in and out of his mouth. Suckling and licking on them as faint growls arose from his throat. He was like a man unhinged, needing and craving you carnally. “That’s okay..because I swear imma make it up to you…” vowing through heavy pants as the feeling of you wrapped around his member had begun to take its toll. “Imma make you come until you can’t anymore. I’m yours..all night. Use me to get that nut. As many as you want..” That fat mushroom tip had swollen to its capacity..seeping precum as it pecked the inner corner of your cervix. Because of it, you had begun to emit splashes of squirt. “Fuuuck yes! Right there…right there, you’re stretching this fucking pussy, baby.” He’d slow down as not too catch them all at once because he wanted to take his time enjoying the onslaught of it. You had never heard him so vocal and primal, taking his time to ensure that your body was well and satisfied. Still thrashing around inside of you, Eren left one final kiss on your foot before bending those legs back behind your head; folding you into that of a quintessential pretzel shape. Either way, each movement of his thick cock was visible..down to the bulge in the lower part of your belly.
“..Nngh! ‘S too much, daddy! Need you take some out..”
whimpering for him with your fingers pawing at his abs, tapping because not even he realized how deep he was in it. Buried to the base with balls smacking your asshole. The bed was rattling around and the headboard slamming against the walls of the suite. Luckily, you had no guests nearby..otherwise, they were in for an earful. But that was neither of your concern. Even so, he couldn’t grant your request until you did something in return for him. Halting, he’d allow that dick to rest idly inside of you as he shoved his fingers into your mouth, working them in and out. “You gone squirt for me, mama? Nut all over this dick?” And naturally, he’d received a prompt nod back. He seemed satisfied with your answer so he’d slowly ease that throbbing cock out; a stream of his cum absentmindedly spraying across your torso and as promised, you’d spray his entire abdomen and cock up with those sweet, warm juices. He was pleased with the little display of waterworks, regardless of your whimpers. “There we go…good girl.” Praising you as you pushed out more of that nectar. Your legs were left in a trembling mess but he gave you no time to recover..
“Save some f’r me..” chuckling as he lowered his head and lapped up every drop of it, even latching into your clit despite the sensitivity. He was insatiable and hungrier for you, now more than ever! With your entire body left in shambles, he’d work his way back up from your thighs to your neck with that trailing tongue..wrapping a hand around your throat as he whispered into your ear. “I love you, fuck I swear..I love you so much. Don’t ever forget that..” whilst doing so..lingering on his every word, he’d ease himself back inside and resume his movements. Each one felt so much better than the last and you were hooked, on his every word and embrace. “I love you too, ‘Ren! I love you too..please, don’t stop..” He truly meant it and you never doubted for a second, even if that liquor was making the feelings more intense. He was yours and nothing could keep you two apart ever again. Peppering your temple with kisses, he’d persist and pound your core until you were leaking yet again. Almost without missing a beat, he’d spout a small loud into your womb and continued going..
“Don’t worry, princess. I’m not going nowhere…I’m right here wit’ you. You opening up so good f’r me…gonna make me give you all this nut..you want it? Want me to get you pregnant tonight?”
questioning in a high pitched coo as he were reaching his second peak so soon. Running on what seemed to be fumes but he had far more in the tank. You were throbbing; smiling with a fucked out expression on your face at the thought of him breeding you. Whatever he wanted to do…you were more than happy to go along with. As long as he kept making love to you like this.
“Please..come in me. Come in this pussy…it’s yours, always been yours..”
Glaring into his eye and encouraging that cum out of him. Low and behold, it didn’t take long before that he’d halt yet again and release not only a loud, ear shattering moan but a warm load as well. Right in the depth of your womb. Your nails dragged into his back, signifying just how good he was making you feel. But this was only the beginning of your drunken..steamy stupor. The best was yet to come!..
“Fuck..need you to take more of that, baby..need you to empty me.”
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justtwotired · 9 months
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“Back the fuck off.”
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Summary: you and Regulus recently broke up over stupid teenage reasons. It was a really bad fight and you two haven't spoken since, though both regret your actions. At a Gryffindor house party, he spots you kissing Mathew smith, the Gryffindor seeker, who Regulus absolutely despises.
Pairing: Regulus Black x Gryffindor!reader
Warnings: swearing, kissing, fighting, a bit of sexual assault.
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⬇️unamused⬇️
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Regulus stands at the drinks table with Barty as they are being pure Slytherins looking around with judging and cold looks. Neither of them wanted to come to said party, but Evan -who was currently participating in a round of beer pong- insisted they went.
His eyes travel the crowd and he spots them, making him narrow his eyes. He knew she was doing it to spite him, he knew even she hated Smith, but there she was, sticking her tongue down his throat.
"Ohh, she is playing with fire." Barty seemed to start enjoying the party the moment he followed Regulus gaze. "Shut the hell up." Regulus head snapped towards him and then his eyes traveled back to the girl and that stupid idiot she was kissing.
His hands where slowly starting to roam under her clothes and that's when he couldn't take it anymore and pushed himself of the table making his way towards them.
- 15 minutes earlier -
"They are absolute morons." Y/n shook her head as she watched Sirius and James jump of the table they'd just been dancing on. "Tell me about it." Remus rolled his eyes.
She took a sip of her drink as she watched the boys make their way over to them. "Oh, their coming pretend you don't know them." Peter said and they all quickly avoided eye contact with the two boys. "Oh haha, you're so funny." Sirius said sarcastically.
His eyes fell on Y/n and they narrowed. "Boring again, I see." He said as he eyed the glass with clear liquid in her hands. "But thinking about it, I could use some water," he took it out of her hands and a horrified expression formed on her face.
"Sirius no wait-" but she was to late and he took a sip and moments later spit it out, coughing. "Y/n, you absolutely menace to society." He said handing the glass back to her.
"Are you alright, pads?" James asked laughing. "I am, but she isn't, what psychopath just casually sips straight vodka." He grimaces and James' eyebrows race.
"What? It's good, you're all just over dramatic." She said taking another sip, making Peter chuckle a bit, as he himself had made that same mistake before.
They all looked up at the sound of the portrait swinging open and watched an excited Evan and annoyed Barty and Regulus walk into the common room.
Y/n rolled her eyes, and then they landed on someone and a smirk formed onto her face. "Y/n, no." Remus said and she looked at him. "What do you mean no?" She asked.
"Regulus just walked in and your wearing that smirk? Whatever your planning, no." He said and she rolled her eyes and giggled. "It's just a bit of fun." She said, standing up to leave the couch and pushing the glass into Sirius' hands.
"Here, you can have that." She says and he looks at it in disgust. "No thanks." And puts it down.
"Smith, hey." She greats the seeker and he turned to her. "Y/n, looking ravishing as always." He said with a shit eating grin as he looked her up and down and stopped at her chest.
She would slap him in the face if it wasn't for her plan just unfolding:
Make Regulus as jealous as possible.
"I can say the same about you." She said, her words slightly slurring. Smith took a step closer, snaking an arm around her waist. Everyone in Hogwarts who had a brain knew he had liked her since fourth year, which was one of the reasons Regulus despised him, but also the other way around.
Everyone in Hogwarts with a brain also knew Smith was an actual, selfish, prick. He had a reputation of cheating, one girl even claimed he had cornered her once, but no one knew if it was true, as she had a reputation of lying.
"I heard your single now." He grinned as he pulled her closer, his breath smelled like alcohol. "It was such a shame you where with... him." He sounded disgusted at the last words.
She let out a sarcastic laugh, starting to maybe regret her decision a little bit... but only a little.
"Well, that's over now... sooo." She trailed her finger passed his white button up. She looked up at him and he smashed his lips against hers, she pulled him closer, deepening the kiss.
Her eyes fluttered open to look around the room and they landed on Regulus who wasn't looking at her as his eyes traveled around the room, but she could see them slowly make their way over to them and she closed her eyes again as Smith tongue slipped into her mouth.
They broke apart for a moment before they kissed again and slowly his hands started to travel, one slipping into her skirt and the other under her top.
His lips detached from hers and made their way to her neck and then he whispered in her ears. "Seeing such a beautiful girl like you with a Slytherin. Tsk, I'll show you what it's like to be with a real guy." He whispered before going back to kissing her neck and his hand suddenly slipped into her panty's.
She was taken by surprise but before she could do anything about it, someone else did.
Regulus had made his way trough the crowd, pushing people aside and watching as Smith went further into her skirt and kissing her neck, it made his blood boil.
"Back the fuck off." He said and Smith looked up and grinned, taking his hand out of her skirt, and Regulus almost thought she looked relieved.
They made eyes contact and he narrowed his eyes at her. "What do you want." She said, obviously with alcohol in her system. "Indeed, what do you want?" Smith asked as he put and arm around her waste and his finger tips rested under the band of her skirt.
"I want you, to get your filthy hands of her." Regulus said with a threatening tone. "And why would I do that? Such a pretty girl, and she isn't yours anymore? I wouldn't even have cared is she still was, I had plans anyway." He laughed dryly and Y/n looked rather horrified as she questioned if that would have been against her will.
"Leave her alone." Regulus demanded and Smith smirked. "And why would I do that, she seemed to be rather enjoying me."
Suddenly, Y/n started to really regret her decision, and grabbed his wrist to stop him from going any further. "What is it baby, you don't like it?" He asked and she sighed and squeezed her eyes shut.
"Stop, I want you to stop." She told him and he huffed. "You don't tell me when to stop." He said and pulled the hand on his wrist away with his other hand.
She knew she had gotten herself in this situation, it was her own fault, but now she really wanted to get out. Suddenly he let go of her and Y/n hadn't processed the sickening crack.
Regulus had punched him right in the nose and blood was rapidly streaming out. His grey eyes fell on Y/n who stared shocked.
He grabbed her arm and then dragged her out of the common room and eventually stopped in a hallway.
"What is wrong with you?" He asked angrily. "Do you know how much worse that could have been?" He asked, he was furious as he turned his back to her.
"Honestly, Y/n that was such a stupid move! And for what? Making me jealous? Well it worked, happy now?" He turned to her as he yelled, but stopped as he watched her.
Her hands where shaking and tears streamed down her face. His features softened as he walked towards her and took her hands in his, placing a soft kiss on each of them.
"It's alright." He whispered to her and she shook her head. "No, no it's not, I'm so sorry, it was a stupid move. I didn't think it trough." She said as more tears streamed down her face and she sniffed as her nose was now full and starting to run.
He wiped away the tears with his sleeve and kissed her on the forehead. "It's alright, Ma Cherie." He whispered as he hugged her. "Come, you need to get some sleep." He said and then led her over to the Slytherin dorms.
She was sitting on his bed as Regulus took a T-shirt and sweatpants out of his closet. He hands rested on her top and then looked at her. "May I help you here?" He asked and she nodded.
"Use your words, darling." He said softly, he always requested she used words when asking for her permission to do things like this, as he didn't want her to regret later.
"Yes." She croaked out and he slowly lifted it over her head and helped her pull the clean shirt over her head. He did the same with the pants and then tucked her into his bed.
He changed out of his clothes to, and joined her, pulling her into him and kissing her forehead. "I love you, my little dove." He said and she murmured something along the lines of "I love you too." Back before falling asleep.
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nsharks · 5 months
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bleeding blue | apocalypse au
part twelve —other parts
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pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3k tags: *hint at sexual assault. please be cautious!* death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival.
Dense mud packs onto the soles of your boots. You shift the near-empty backpack on your shoulder and slip back a few sweat-laced strands of hair from your face. Never before were you a morning person. In fact, you used to purposely sign up for all the afternoon lectures in uni. But now, time and sunlight are precious. You set out to search for the camp this morning with only a sliver of sunrise as your companion. 
You hope Ghost was right.
He suspected that their camp would be situated in a location with easy access to the military base, river, and nearby village so they could draw resources from all three. So that's the direction you're headed in, squinting at nearby landmarks and interstate signs to help guide you. It's quite the hike: grueling, hilly terrain and moist air that you can't distinguish from your own sweat. You've stepped over some interesting sights along the way. An old forest station with CAMP FEES and LEAVE NO TRACE posters still outside. A small skeleton tucked in a bush with only child-sized rainboots left on it. For a moment, you saw Joseph. Toddling around in the puddles outside your sister’s house. You had to force yourself not to look at it for too long; you wiped your eyes, gritted your teeth, and prayed it had been painless for them.
You come to a narrow creek, crossing over a stone bridge that spits you out among dense evergreens. Finally, a faint column of smoke comes into view just above the forest's canopy. 
That must be it.
It's certainly a sign, so you suck in a shaky breath, ignore the rush of blood in your veins, and do what Ghost suggested: climb a tree to get a better look. 
There was a time not long ago when climbing trees was your only means of survival. This time, it feels so much easier to hoist yourself up and grip the bark as your muscles flex to steady yourself on a high branch. Luckily, there wasn't much to bring in the backpack Ghost gave you. For now, there's nothing in it other than your lighter, a roll of gauze, that romance book, and a small piece of dry wood. 
Squinting your gaze, you make out the silhouette of triangular, orange tents and uneven fencing. Definitely a camp. The fence doesn't appear barbed from here, but it's at least a meter higher than the one that surrounds Ghost's place. You're close enough to see a few blue crates in the center that look like those ones from the military medical site. Is that what they're keeping the supplies in? It seems like the only obvious place based on the layout.
What you really want to know is how many people. Soundlessly, you shift your boots to get a different angle and finally spot movement coming out of one of the tents— a sizeable male wearing a leather jacket.
One.
Is that it?
Your eyes stay locked on the stranger for a minute, tracking his movement as he cooks something over the fire. He gives out a long whistle, the high-pitched sound audible even from where you stand nestled in the treetop. Panic seizes your breath: did he somehow see you and is alerting someone else? But no— you're much too far, and his eyes never shifted in your direction. 
Instead, there's more movement, the faint shuffling of paws on the ground, and then a large dog appears at the man's side. He tosses something in front of it, what must be a slab of meat, because the dog is quick to start chowing down with the enthusiasm of a mindless Grey.
"Fuck me," you whisper to yourself, fingertips splintering against the bark. "Couldn't prepare me for that, huh, Ghost?"
The plan he instructed you with is fairly simple and straightforward— you'll just have to stick to it and be mindful of the additional obstacle. You've survived much worse even just a few days ago, so with that in mind, you slip down the column of the tree and purposefully backtrack your steps, gaining a bit more distance between you and the camp. 
You need a ruse, something to draw the man out for enough time for you to grab the ammo. Ghost told you to bring the book to help get a fire started since the twigs and leaves here are damp after the storm, so you find a good spot and start ripping out the pages, crumpling them up. You arrange the piece of wood and paper in such a way that you have a minute or two before the smoke really gets going. You pull out your lighter from the pocket of your jeans, start it, and then head back towards the camp, this time going around so you can approach it from the side. 
You keep your footsteps as light as possible while moving quickly. Once the man notices the smoke and leaves to scout it out, your timer starts. There's another whistle followed by a gravelly bark from the dog. You sneak close to the side of the fence, pausing behind a tree, just when you catch a glance of the stranger shucking a rifle over his shoulder and exiting out the gate. He shuts it behind him with a series of padlocks.
It won't take him long to find the source of the smoke and realize it's nothing, so you muster all your strength and begin climbing the fence, rusty links digging into your palms. You try to do it without making much noise, but the moment you jump down with a thud, the dog's head snaps in your direction. It begins to growl, flashing thick canines under its bloodied muzzle. You break out into a sprint toward the blue crates, but it crosses the span of the camp in mere seconds, clamping down on your forearm before you can even begin to look for the ammo.
The pain is white hot. You silently cry out as the dog shakes its head, tearing through the fabric of your coat and the tissue of your muscle. 
"Fuck."
You tug at your arm, but it doesn't let go. Remembering the piece of squirrel meat you brought as a snack, you dig it from your pocket and wag it in front of the dog's face.
"Come on, let go— please."
It's enough to catch his attention, the bite on your arm loosening once you toss the meat a few meters away and he follows it. You clutch your arm with a ragged breath, ignoring the blood and pain that radiates from it.
The squirrel can only distract him for so long, so you urgently flip open the lid of the first crate. Staring back at you is a mix of what appears to be severed limbs and various animal parts. The pungent smell floods up your nose. You instantly clamp the lid back down, fighting the urge to vomit, and move on to the next one. 
Ammo.
Plenty of it.
Without a second to waste, you sling off the backpack and begin stuffing it with the cardboard packs of cartridges, hoping it's the kind Ghost needs. When you tug the zipper closed, a decision pops into your brain: to keep looking through the other crates for medicine, or to get the fuck out of there. You take a millisecond too long to think about it because suddenly, you notice the dog from the corner of your eye, done with the meat and moving towards you with another throaty growl. 
You tug the heavy backpack on and make a beeline for the closest side of the fence. In the panic, you fail to notice the creak of the gate opening until you are stumbling into a hard chest. A strong hand wraps around your bicep.
Fuck.
He's back.
This is it, then.
"Rocky— sit."
The growling behind you ceases. A whole new fear washes over you as you blink up at a rugged face. The stranger uses his other hand to take hold of your jaw, hard enough that your teeth are forced to grind together. In a heart-pounding silence, he inspects you, bluntly looking you up and down. Then, he takes out a knife and presses it to your neck. Your throat bobs against the icy metal. 
"Fucking bitch," he mutters. "Start a fire to try and steal from me?"
"N-no!" Your brain reels for a lie. "No— I don't know what you're talking about. I-I came here looking for help."
"Try a better lie, sweetheart." 
"I mean it," you stammer, holding onto the fact that he hasn't slit your throat yet. Raw desperation speaks for you. "My… my friends are gone. Someone attacked us a few days ago and killed them. I've been alone ever since and then I found your camp, hoping someone would be here to help me."
This seems to grab his attention. Dark eyes narrow. It's now you realize he's quite young, maybe in his thirties.
"Someone attacked you, huh? Who?"
"Um, some guy. I don't know. I didn't get a good look at him because he was… he was wearing a mask."
"So some guy killed all your friends by himself?" When you slowly nod, cringing at your terrible story, his jaw flexes. "I've lost my friends, too. They went out on a hunting trip three days ago and haven't come back."
"Oh. I'm sorry," you lie, swallowing. "So you… so you believe me?"
"I believe your friends are dead. I don't believe you didn't start that fire to distract me."
His words make your heart race. Again, his eyes trail down, and the knife follows, lowering to the floral fabric of your blouse and popping open one of the buttons. 
"Take it off," he suddenly orders. 
"W-what?"
"The shirt. Take it off. Let me decide if I should kill you or keep you."
You put on a brave face and do as he says, not given much room to protest despite the sick feeling that twists your gut. You drop the backpack, half-inclined to swing it at him, but then what? There is no way you can take him in a fight, especially since he's armed with a knife and gun, and there is no Grey this time to help you out. 
The coat falls to the ground at your feet before you shakily undo the buttons of your blouse, wincing from the movement of your bitten arm. Crisp air greets your bare skin. Your nipples tighten uncomfortably and his gaze darts right to them, intensifying the churn in your stomach. 
He gives a low whistle. "Lucky me."
Your nails jab crescents into the palms of your hands. "Am I… am I worth keeping, then?"
He bears a sick, toothy smile. "Pretty for a thief," he confirms. "Haven't seen someone so pretty in a few years now." His eyes flash to your arm and he reaches to grab it, making you choke. "Hell, Rocky. You gave her an ugly bite, though. Might get in the way of what I have in mind for you."
Half-naked, you are dragged by the arm to one of the blue crates. He slips the knife into his pocket in order to search through it. You notice pills, liquids, and a single glass bottle of what appears to be clear alcohol, which he pulls out along with a cloth.
"Tell me your name," he says, forcing you to sit down on a folding chair. "Before I enjoy you.”
You tell him quietly.
With an eery gentleness, he sits across from you and dabs the bite with some alcohol. The sting is immeasurable, but you roll your eyes to the sky and silence yourself. The feel of his cold, calloused fingers makes you imagine how they would feel touching other parts of your body. You need to think of something quick before he gets the chance to. He still has the gun on him, and the only knife you brought is in the jacket on the ground. Your eyes flicker to the bottle, which he set down by the leg of his chair.
"What's your name?" you ask, looking back at him.
"Leo."
"So, um, Leo— how did you end up here?"
"I was a new recruit in the military when shit started five years ago," he explains idly, fixated on your arm. "Stationed at the base nearby."
"I saw medical tents there," you mutter, clearing your throat. "Did you help with that?"
He chuckles. "For all of a day until some buddies and I decided to take what we could and leave. There was no point in trying to help people. We figured that out pretty quick."
"Oh. Were those the buddies who haven't come back?" 
He nods. "I'm sure they're dead by now. But, one good thing is," he reaches for the gauze, sniggering lowly, "—that means I don't have to share you."
As he begins to unwrap the gauze, you decide he’s distracted enough. It happens in one, urgent motion. You clasp the alcohol bottle by the neck, arch it above his head, and thrust it down. The glass shatters, drenching him with alcohol and blood as a piece slices open his forehead. He immediately drops the gauze and hisses in pain.
"Bitch," he snarls. "I'm going to fucking kill you!"
He leaps to his feet and pulls the knife out again. As he does, you dig the lighter out of your pocket and ignite a flame, bringing it to his soaked shoulder. Instantly, fire flashes up his neck and face in hues of orange and blue, even catching your wet fingertips. It renders him blind as he howls and tries to swing at you, but you immediately run away, rubbing your burned hand against your jeans.
You grab your discarded clothes and backpack before flinging open the crate with medicine in it. You begin stuffing as many bottles into the side pockets of the backpack as you can, breathing frantically.
"I'm going to kill you," he seethes again, and the firing of a bullet somewhere behind you means he must have grabbed his rifle.
But he still can't see, his eyes blistered by the flames that continue to lick his face. Each shot bites the ground as you heave the backpack on your shoulders and take off toward the fence.
The dog barks, louder and louder as he runs after you. You don't look back. You wad your clothes up in a ball and toss them over the fence to free up your hands. Then, you quickly climb up, the muscles in your face tightly clenched as the full backpack weighs you down. 
You're too slow. 
Teeth grab hold of your boot.
You're pulled back down, hands spreading out to break the fall. 
In the mud, you wrestle beneath a snarling jaw, dirtying up your hair and exposed skin. This time, you don't hesitate to hurt the animal. You grab your lighter again and thrust the flame into the dog's eye, making it leap back with a pained squeal. 
Freed, you scramble back up the fence.
You leap down. Grab your clothes
You can still hear him shouting as you run away, weaving through the thicket of trees. Only when the sound fades do you stop to catch your breath, sinking down against a tree and putting your clothes back on.
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"Here."
A moan of relief escapes your lips the moment you shrug off the backpack and drop it at Ghost's feet. He crouches down, swearing under his breath when he unzips it and the ammo practically spills out. He grabs a few boxes, opening and inspecting them under the violet light of sunset. The walk back took you hours longer. You were almost tempted to sleep in a tree for the night, but the threat of Greys or any more strangers kept you going. 
"Good. This is good, Twix." There's a hint of disbelief in his voice before he clears it away, zipping the backpack up. He stands and offers a lengthy look from your head to your boots. "How many were there?"
"Just one."
"Just one," he repeats, brow lifting. "And you look this roughed up. What happened?"
"There was a dog," you say dully, lifting your arm up to show him the bitemark in your sleeve. Beneath it, you already bandaged the wound, not wanting to draw attention to its scent. “Just a dog and a cannibal rapist guy."
"What?"
You shake your head. "Nothing. I'm going to sleep."
Before you can take a step past him, warm fingers latch onto your wrist. So warm. You inhale a breath, a burn of moisture lining your eyes.
“Please don’t touch me," you request in a harsher whisper than you intend.
You can no longer see the details of him with how bleary your eyes are, but you feel his touch disappear.
"What happened?" he asks again, voice lowering.
"Nothing. I got your ammo and I handled it. When can we leave?"
There is a pause before he responds as if he is debating whether or not to drop the subject. For now, he does.
"Tomorrow, hopefully."
"Good." The back of your hand smooths over your eyes. "Don't— don't forget our deal, Ghost. Promise me."
A firm nod. "I don't back out on my word."
As if to prove it, he shucks off the jacket and hands it over.
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bimbobaggins69 · 7 months
Text
throuple, throuple, toil and trouble
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modern steddie x only fans reader
summary: after adjusting to life under the same roof, you and the boys decide to throw a Halloween party. Most of Steve and Eddie’s friends drive in from Hawkins, too excited to meet their friends new girl, they’ve heard so much about. But not everyone comes barring good intentions.
warnings: smut ahead, 18+ mdni, pictures are for aesthetic purposes only(no mention of skin color or hair texture), consented somnophilia, oral sex (m receiving), allusions to frotting, showering together, jealous!steddie, slut shaming, mentions of reader being drugged and sexually assaulted, smoking weed, drinking, fighting, blood, unprotected double v penetration, body worship, cream pie, the boys reminding you who you belong to.
authors note: part two of ‘welcome to the dungeon…’ I hope you enjoy (: as always thank you to @xxhellfiregirlxx & @take-everything-you-can for being the best betas <3
wc: 7.2k
series masterlist
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“Mmm, well good fuckin’ mornin’ to me.” Eddie growls, as two of the most beautiful people he’s ever witnessed lay between his hairy, pale legs.
“Yes, suck the tip Stevie, while our princess sucks my balls.” He continues through gritted teeth, “fuck yeah.” He hissed before bringing both hands to rub down his face and through his frizzy, bed hair.
“God, if this is just another wet dream, I’m gonna be pissed.” He chuckles before it turns into a loud whimper caused by the particularly hard suck you gave to his balls while Steve pushed his head down further, bringing Eddie’s cock deeper down his throat.
“Does that feel real enough?” You tease before sliding your tongue across the metalhead's sensitive sack and down to his gooch.
“Oh, someone’s fucking mouthy this morning.” He declares, making Steve giggle with a mouth full of cock.
Eddie tugs at Steve’s luscious locks, pulling him off as a loud pop rings out into the sunlit room, causing the little cock slut to whine, but before you can tease him, the older boy is grabbing a handful of your hair and wrapping it once around his knuckles, pushing you down onto his spit soaked cock.
“Yeah, can’t say anything now, can you baby?” Eddie mocks, making your cunt clench around absolutely nothing.
The groggy boy thrusts his hips harder into your mouth before bringing Steve’s needy lips to his. They kiss and suck at each other as Eddie continues to fuck your deliciously sore throat.
The smacks and moans coming from the head of the bed, egg you on as you twist, suck and gag on Eddie’s painfully hard cock.
“Can Steve come help me?” You beg as you bat your lashes up at your boys, making them break their hot as shit, kiss.
“You want Stevie boy to help you clean up my cum? Is that it?” Eddie knows how much you and Steve love swapping his cum through sloppy kisses, hell Eddie loves it more than both of you combined, so who is he to deny you?
“Get down there with our girl, baby.” He whispers to Steve before bringing him in for one last kiss.
The pretty boy obliges by sliding down and planting himself right beside you.
“Hi.” He whispers sweetly, giving you a quick kiss to your lips before bringing his to one side of Eddie’s shaft, moving up and down in quick but calculated movements.
You shadow him by bringing your lips to the other side, matching his pace and occasionally licking the vein that runs up Eddie’s throbbing cock.
“Oh, fuck yeah.” The older boy mumbles under his breath as his eyes shift from yours to Steve’s. Both of you looking up at him while your mouths move simultaneously along his cock, will have him busting in your mouths in seconds, it’s honest to god his weakness. He feels like a king being worshiped by two beautiful servants. Like the luckiest son of a bitch, alive.
You and Steve rub your tongues together over his tip, spit and precum clinging to both sets of lips that continue their assault on the bright pink, spongy skin.
“Oh fu-uck! Tongues out. Now.” Eddie demands through loud huffs of pleasure. Once both of you have your tongues displayed for the metalhead, warm spurts of cum hit one before he brings his tip to the other, giving his two cum sluts their well deserved treat.
You both hold the cum exactly where it landed, letting Eddie get a good look at his mess before you and the pretty boy begin kissing, swapping loads back and forth, the treat drips down Steve’s chin and you eagerly lick it away before continuing the sloppy share of Eddie’s beloved seed.
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It’s been a month and a half since Eddie and Steve have moved in with you, the first two weeks were a mixture of awkward and taut energy as you three adjust to life together. Not to mention the sexual tension between you and the boys, having to hear them some mornings or nights being intimate with each other while you knew you wanted so badly to be a part of it and them wanting you to join but not wanting to come off too strong.
It was a challenge, that is until Steve finally had enough and sat you down their second week of residency, with a very shy but eager Eddie by his side.
“So what did you guys wanna talk about?” Your voice low and your fingers fidgeting with nervousness as you pick up the haphazardly strewn about mail laid out on the kitchen table, stacking it together before shuffling it like a pile of cards.
“Well…” Steve draws out, “to just put everything out on the table…Eddie and I felt something that night, the night we came over and ya know, filmed with you… and we thought we’d just kinda continue whatever it is we had going on, but it just sorta seems like you’ve been pulling away from us.”
He runs a nervous hand through his chestnut locks before continuing “did you not feel it, too?” Eddie and Steve look at you with doe eyes, filled with sadness as they both search your face for answers.
“I did feel something, too…” you begin as you look back and forth between the pretty boy and metalhead, “I just didn’t want to come in between anything or insert myself where I didn’t belong.” You admit, as your anxious fingers continue to fidget, now with your rings.
“Baby,” Eddie starts, giving you that puppy dog look that makes you weak in the knees, the one where he tucks his chin into his chest, looking at you through his long lashes. “Trust me when I say, you belong between us.”
And that’s how your month-long relationship with the boys started. They quit their job at ‘the dungeon’ to make content with you full time.
After you had posted the video to your only fans, your subscribers went crazy for Steve and Eddie, wanting to see more of them with you, along with so many requests for them to make their own; where they could do solo content, which you heavily encouraged.
You and Steve came up with the idea of turning one of the guest rooms into a “sex dungeon” as Eddie called it. Shelves lined with dildos belonging to all three of you; the flesh like one that attached to the strap on you’ve used to fuck Steve with sat front and center, a sex swing; compliments of the boys sat in the corner next to the window lined in black sheer curtains. Ring lights, tripods and any electronic equipment were placed neatly in the spacious walk-in closet and lube, handcuffs, vibrators and butt plugs took up the two drawers in the bed side table.
The other guest room; that was now left vacant, belonged to Eddie and Steve when they first moved in. Now you all share the primary room with discussions of purchasing a bigger bed as Eddie was a stage five clinger in his sleep, he enjoyed being right underneath you or Steve at all times during the night, but you had a feeling a bigger bed wasn't going to change that habit.
Things were perfect, like all levels of the honeymoon phase, perfect. There was only one thing left in your relationship to do, and that was to meet their friends from Hawkins, and for them to meet Michelle. So like the genius you are, you planned to throw a Halloween party with it being mid October, the leaves now beautiful shades of orange, red and browns. It was going to be perfect.
So some cleaning and decorating were in order.
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“Fuck.” Eddie huffs, before stretching with a loud yawn. “You both wear me the fuck out.” He chuckles to himself before finding his previously discarded boxer shorts, that were covered in dried up cum from last night's tryst of frotting both boys until they came all over each other's spent cocks and the fabric that Eddie was too impatient to remove all the way.
You and Steve giggle at the metalhead between kisses, you can still taste Eddie on his tongue as you continue devouring his mouth.
“I’m gonna go take a shower, you two have fun.” Eddie smirks down at you both, giving a salacious wink, before sauntering over towards the bathroom.
“Mmm, I get you all to myself?” The pretty boy purrs before kissing down your jaw towards your sweet spot, just under your ear. “I’m gonna fuck you full.” He growls into your ear making you moan and shiver. “I know after sucking cock together your pussy turns into a slip-n-slide.” The honey eyed boy whispers before softly biting at your earlobe.
“Mhm.” You moan back in agreement. “Need it so bad, Stevie.” You gasp as one of Steve’s fingers roughly pinch at your peaked nipple.
“I know you do, baby.” He nods with a mocking pout on his lips. “My little cock slut.” He playfully chides, giving one last tug to your nipple.
“Yeah, you and me both.” You retort, making him laugh into your neck.
“You're not wrong there.” He guffaws, “but, I'm a pussy slut right now.” His response pulls a belly laugh from you as you lay your head on his shoulder. God, you love him.
Wait what?
“Lay back baby, let me show you how much of slut I am for your pretty pussy.”
You and Steve make it down stairs an hour later, all giggles and flirty banter as you both walk into the kitchen, taking in the mess and calculating what needs to be cleaned and where decorations should go.
Eddie went to pick up last minute things for the party, giving you and Steve a sweet kiss while the pretty boy pounded into you from the back. Eddie smiled to himself, shaking his head in complete adoration for the both of you. With anyone else, Eddie would have been an angry, jealous mess; walking out to see the person he’s in love with fucking someone else. But with you, it was different because that love now extended to you, too. You weren't just a random person to them, seeing you and Steve together made him anything but angry. He loved taking a backseat and watching his two lovers, love on each-other. That shit was pure ecstasy, man.
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Once all the dishes were washed, floors were swept and mopped and all surfaces were wiped down; you and Steve decide to take a quick shower together before getting straight to decorating.
While you were washing the shampoo out of the pretty boy's signature locks the shower curtain was being ripped open, making you and your boyfriend yelp from sheer terror.
“Jesus Christ.” Eddie says with a snicker, “Is that how you’d protect our girl from an intruder, huh Stevie?” The metalhead jokes as he removes his clothes,
“Oh, I didn't expect anyone to pull a psycho on me today, sorry my guard was down.” Steve sasses as he rolls his eyes.
“Always gotta be on guard, baby.” Eddie responds with, as he steps into the shower leaving you squished between both boys. You couldn't help but to giggle at their banter, you loved it.
“Sorry angel, don’t mean to take up all the room, but I missed you both and I just wanted to be next to you.” The long haired boy confesses as he playfully grabs for yours and Steve's ass. “Two juicy asses, how’d I get so lucky?” He says through gritted teeth, as his eyes glaze over in lust.
“I feel the same way about your cocks.” You admit, bringing both boys in towards you as you share a threeway kiss, all lips and tongues. Both of them moan into it, making you want to say ‘to hell with the party’ and spend all day in bed fucking each others brains out, but you knew that wasn’t an option.
“Come on, we still have so much to do.” You say, delivering swift slaps to both of their behinds, before you're grabbing your towel off the rack and stepping out.
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Finally, after all your guys’ hard work, the house is set up for the Halloween party of your dreams.
The front door was lined with pumpkin lanterns, an animatronic ghost face stands tall on your front porch, the fog machines are on and smoking up the walkway, spooky sounds ready to go off when the party goers ring the doorbell.
Once inside, all the light bulbs have been changed to either orange or purple and there’s a walkway of stickers that look like bloody footsteps and splatters leading to the snack table in the dining room. Everywhere you look there’s a bat, spider or pumpkin; even the guest bathroom was decorated in some type of Halloween fashion.
But the snack table was the real star of the show, it sat lined with all of the treats Eddie ran out and picked up; caramel apples, cookies, cupcakes, cake pops, even a s’mores bar.
A cauldron filled with dry ice and jones green apple soda sat in the center as it bubbled and fogged up like a real potion, a spider web tablecloth laid beneath the display and orange lights were intertwined between the trays of sweets.
On the kitchen island lay the appetizers; nachos, mummies in a blanket, a cheese board with a plastic skeleton lying in the middle, and finally the numerous boxes of pizzas you ordered.
Everything was perfect.
How you all got it done between quick make out sessions and groping each other every five minutes was beyond you, but you were proud of the outcome, nonetheless.
When your first guests arrived you were already fitted in your tight shiny black tube dress, matching gloves that went up mid shoulder, a little pointy witch hat, black knee high socks and your black platform Mary Jane’s.
The boys were in their matching black cat costumes which mainly consisted of all black clothes, cat ears, cat collars and their faces painted with whiskers and a snout. They were the cutest little kittens.
Steve answered the door as the spooky Halloween sounds rang out through the house.
“Hey, baby.” Steve called from the front door as you were setting out the black solo cups.
Once you and Steve are standing side by side, Eddie runs downstairs, ready to greet the first guests.
“Baby, this is Robin and her girlfriend Chrissy.” The pretty boy says, beaming with his million dollar smile, as he motions to the two beautiful girls standing in front of you. Robin was Mia Wallace from Pulp fiction while Chrissy was the bride from Kill bill, they looked equally amazing.
“Hi, it’s so nice to meet you.” You say as you go in for a hug. Chrissy gives you a bear hug as if you’ve known eachother forever while Robin gives an awkward side hug that makes you giggle in amusement.
After introductions Steve gives Robin and Chrissy the grand tour, while you get back to setting up the finishing touches.
Throughout the night, new faces continued to show up; you met the hellfire kids, their girlfriends and will’s boyfriend, Eddie’s old bandmates and their girlfriends, some friends of Steve’s from high school and Eddie’s old buddy Rick and a couple of his friends.
For living thirty minutes from Hawkins, it was a pretty good turn out.
You stride into the living room from the kitchen, looking for one of your boyfriends. Finally catching a glimpse of Eddie’s wavy brown locks as he takes a seat on the couch surrounded by familiar faces, blunt in hand and ready to light up before his eyes meet yours. He sends you a smile and a wink before waving you over.
“Hey, pretty girl. Come take a seat.” He says as he pats his lap, gently pulling you down by your arm before you situate yourself on top of him. “Careful there, angel.” Eddie whispers into your ear with a smirk as your bottom slid against his now growing bulge.
As Eddie was sparking up his blunt, too preoccupied for his surroundings, you caught eyes with two boys you had met earlier and were introduced to as Steve’s friends from high school; Billy and Tommy if you remembered correctly. They were eyeing you up and down hungrily from across the room, cocky smirks on their lips as they spoke back and forth, clearly about you.
You looked away as quickly as your eyes found them and when you glanced back over, they were gone.
You let out a heavy exhale of breath you didn’t realize you were holding as your attention went back to the metalhead underneath you.
“What’s on your mind, baby?” Eddie asks as he softly kisses your neck before offering you a hit.
“I’m okay,” you say with double meaning towards Eddie’s question and his offer of the blunt.
“I actually have to pee, I'll be back in a bit.” You announce before Eddie quickly takes your chin in his grip and pecks your lips as he says through each kiss “okay…I’ll…see…you…later.”
You walk to the bathroom quickly, hoping not to be stopped by Steve’s “friends”.
You should’ve told Eddie about the way they were looking at you, but you didn’t want to make a big deal out of something that could potentially be nothing. Maybe they weren’t even looking at you, maybe there was more to it… whatever it was, you didn’t wanna be the thing that came between any boyfriend and his friends.
You make it into the hallway just outside the bathroom when you’re stopped by a rather tipsy Robin.
“Hey,” she cheerfully chirps, “I’ve been meaning to thank you, all night.” She beams but her words of gratitude confuse you.
“Thank me for what?” You ask curiously.
“For making Steve happy, Eddie too…” she says with a bashful smile, “they’ve been through a lot. Steve was pretty torn up over his ex, he wouldn’t move on for years, and was convinced no one else could love him. Then he found Eddie and don’t get me wrong I know he’s so in love with Eddie and they're happy…but now he has two people who will love him and give him what he’s always deserved… so thank you!” She goes in for a hug, this time it’s not an awkward side hug, but the same bear hug Chrissy graced you with, earlier.
“Of course, I intend on always making them both happy.” You admit as your heart flutters at her words.
She nods in satisfaction “I’m gonna go dance with Chrissy, if you want you can totally come and cut in, I’m sure Chrissy would love to dance with someone who actually knows how.” You both chuckle before going separate ways.
You use the bathroom quickly, wash your hands, then give yourself a once over in the mirror before heading back out into the barely lit hallway.
“Hey, I’ve been looking for you.” Steve says sweetly as he hugs you, both hands slide down your back slowly before he grabs at the meat of your ass through your tight dress. “Need you and Ed’s so bad tonight.” He whispers into your ear making a chill run down your spine in anticipation.
“You’ll have us baby.” You whisper back before kissing him deeply. You both moan into it before you pull away or else you’d end up fucking him right in the middle of the hallway.
“Mmm, I’m gonna use the bathroom and I’ll find you back out there, unless you wanna…” Steve nods towards the bathroom with a sly smirk. Fuck, these boys were gonna kill you.
“I think we should wait until everyones gone, get real filthy, ya know?” You purr as your fingers slowly walk up his chest before you boop him on the nose, then turn to leave.
“Fuck.” He exhales, shaking his head in utter disbelief and amusement as he heads into the bathroom to relieve himself of all the jones green apple soda mixed with vodka, he’s been drinking like water.
When you walk back into the party, you instantly find Chrissy and Robin in the middle of the living room dancing to Thriller with a few of the girls that came with Eddie’s band and DND club, they’re all laughing and smiling and the whole thing makes your heart feel so full.
Before you’re able to talk yourself out of the invitation you were given, you walk up to them; Chrissy immediately invites you in as she hooks her arm in yours giving you a bright smile.
“Hey, you.” She cheerfully greets you with. You could tell you and Chrissy were going to be fast friends, which you were thankful for considering making friends was never your strong suit and your one and only friend wasn't able to make the party.
You all dance, laugh and joke together for a long stretch of the night, you really haven't had this much fun and let loose with other girls in a long time.
Amber, who you now know is with Gareth, brought over fireball shots for you all to take.
The crowd cheers when you all smash them back.
You almost immediately make eye contact with Steve and Eddie who are sitting on the couch in perfect view of you after the hot liquid seeps down your throat. They’re smiling at you like love sick fools, making your stomach flutter and heart skip as your cheeks grow hot, making you look down towards your feet as if they've suddenly become more interesting.
But before you have a chance to look back up, your body immediately snaps to the voice in your ear that comes from behind you.
“Hello beautiful.” You tense up as a terrifying chill runs through you.
“Um, hi.” You meekly respond with, as your head turns to find Chrissy and Robin dancing, kissing and smiling no longer paying a lick of attention to you.
You didn't want to be rude and tell Billy to leave you alone so you continued to sway back and forth in front of him while he smiled down at you with the most predatory eyes you've ever encountered.
“This is a cute little party you’ve put together.” He chuckles as his minty breath hits your face before he's moving in closer to you.
“Thanks.” You dryly say to what felt like a condescending comment.
“Aw, you shy princess?” He asks before he’s tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “Actually, I just came over to tell you I'm a big fan...” He reveals, before getting closer to your ear. “A huge fan.” He whispers.
You feel almost stuck to the ground as you make no moves to get away, until you feel a hand being wrapped around your waist.
“Sup Hargrove? You’re a little close to my girl, don’tcha think?” The metalhead says through clenched teeth.
“Oh, my bad Munson. You're right, you're right..” He says as he takes one more head to toe glance at you before turning and walking back to his freckled faced friend.
“I fuckin’ hate that guy.” Eddie growls as he grabs onto you possessively, as if to mark his territory in front of the two creeps.
“Why is he here then?” You ask curiously as you place your arms over Eddie's shoulders, gently grabbing onto the nape of his neck.
“They’re friends with Steve, use to play basketball with him in high school but they don’t really keep in touch anymore so I honestly have no fuckin’ clue.” He scoffs, giving them one more death glare from over your shoulder.
“You both okay?” Robin asks as she now stands beside you with a bubbly and drunk Chrissy.
“Yeah, we're good.” Eddie speaks up as his grip on you tightens. “You wanna come get some pizza with me, baby?” He whispers before placing a tender kiss to your cheek.
“Yeah, let’s go.” You agree as he eagerly grabs at your hand, interlocking your fingers as you both walk into the kitchen on a hunt for the last few pieces.
Most of the night you find yourself in heavy rotation with Eddie, Steve, Robin and Chrissy but occasionally making your rounds to talk to and get to know more of the boys’ friends.
You find yourself in an interesting conversation with Jeff and his girlfriend Lily who want to start an Only fans of their own, asking for tips and the do’s and don'ts of it all.
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“Fuck, I want you so bad.” Steve whispers to Eddie through the lewd smack of their lips.
“I know baby boy but we have to wait, okay? Can you be a good boy for me?” Eddie asks, making Steve whine into the kisses he was placing on the older boy's neck, making him chuckle.
“So damn needy, aren’t you?” The metalhead growls as he grips and pulls his boyfriend's hair, immediately removing his lips from his skin.
A voice coming from the garage stops Eddie in his tracks.
“She looks so fucking good tonight.”
“Yeah, but you’ve seen her, she’s all over Steve and Eddie man, she won’t go for it.”
“Fuck that. Trust me she will, she’s a slut, plus I think they’re in an open relationship or some weird shit anyway, they’re sure as shit not serious if they’re all fucking each other. Come on man this is why we came.”
“Hmm, I don't know dude might have to slip something in her drink to guarantee a sure time.” One of them snorts at the sick joke.
“Hey, we’ll do what we gotta do.”
The boys are absolutely sure now that the voices coming from behind the garage door belong to Tommy and Billy.
Eddie is seething, his hands are clenched so tight all the veins in his arms are sure to be popping out as his breathing becomes ragged.
Steve goes from horny to fucking fuming in seconds.
“Hey assholes!” Eddie shouts as he rips open the heavy door making the two idiots freeze in a state of shock.
“Oh fuck.” Tommy says under his breath as he sees the looks on the other boys' faces.
“You thought you were gonna come into our house and fuck our girl?! You two fucks are even dumber than I thought.” The metalhead spits as his ringed finger points at them in a blind rage.
“Hey dude, chill the fuck out!” Billy growls, stepping up into Eddie’s face.
Billy fucking Hargrove, always looking for a fight.
‘Well he came to the right place’ Eddie thinks to himself.
“You both need to get the fuck out of here. Now.” Steve says with so much indignation, if Eddie wasn’t so pissed, it would’ve been sure to make his cock twitch.
“Nah, I think there’s a fine piece of ass in there waiting for me.” Billy snides, pushing both boys out of the way as he takes a step inside.
Before he can, he’s being pulled back by his leather jacket, falling flat on the floor. Eddie immediately straddles the mullet haired boy, hitting him with his fists until his knuckles begin to ache and blood becomes visible from both him and Billy.
Tommy goes to pull Eddie off but Steve is there in a flash, punching Tommy and instantly cracking his nose. Steve’s never been one to fight or win one for that matter, but the anger that came over him at their words and their threats to drug and rape you, made him see red.
You along with the older hellfire boys make your way out into the garage after hearing some of the commotion. When you walk in you’re met with a bloody scene; Eddie’s on top of Billy, his fists flying and his face screwed up in complete rage.
Steve has Tommy by the collar of his shirt holding him up against a wall, the freckled faced boy's wounds match Billy’s as crimson red streams from his nose.
Steve says something through his teeth before he’s letting go and letting the boy drop to his knees.
Gareth and Jeff pull Eddie off, holding him back as he tries to get away and finish off what he started.
“You shitheads need to get the fuck outta here, now! I’m not gonna fucking say it again.” Steve roared, making both boys get up and stumble back to their cars, as they grab at their faces that are now gushing with blood.
You look on in horror, completely confused as to what started the whole brawl.
You go for Eddie first who is still shaking with fury.
“Baby, what happened?” You frantically question as you grab at his leather jacket, trying to calm his shaking form.
He immediately grabs you, tucking you into his chest as his arms close in around your body, tightly squeezing and swaying as if he hadn’t seen you all night. He continues by kissing the top of your head over and over until you look up at him, his eyes glassy and red but now all you can see in them is love, so much love that it almost takes your breath away.
He cups your face, rubbing his thumbs against your cheeks before he’s kissing you, deeply.
Steve comes up from behind you, wrapping his arms around you and Eddie as he lays his head on your shoulder, making you and Eddie break from your kiss.
Steve had been explaining what had happened to Gareth, Grant and Jeff as well as to a wide eyed Robin who walked in at the tail end of the confrontation.
“I think we should tell everyone to leave.” Steve whispers, making you and Eddie nod in agreement.
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You all say your goodbyes with lots of hugs and ‘nice to meet yous’ as everyone heads out to their hotels they’d booked around the city.
Robin and Chrissy head up to your guest bedroom, falling asleep almost instantly on the comfortable, fluffy bed.
You take your boyfriend’s into the guest bathroom to clean up their fists while they explain what happened with Tommy and Billy. You were not shocked to say the least and decided to inform them on how you caught the creeps looking at you when you were sitting on Eddie’s lap, more anger filled them as Eddie and Steve agreed they deserved worse than what was given to them.
Finally, while you follow each other upstairs they can’t keep their hands off of you, it’s almost as if it’s primal instinct, like they now have to show you who you belong to. They both tug at your dress exposing your tits while halfway up the stairs. Steve gives your nipples attention until you reach the top where Eddie picks you up bridal style walking you to your shared bedroom as Steve follows behind.
The metalhead throws you onto the bed as both boys eye you with complete, carnal need.
Steve removes your shoes before he’s tugging your dress off the rest of the way, this time they take your knee highs off, wanting you completely naked for them.
Each boy kisses up and down your body, worshiping you as they whisper sweet words of praise into your skin.
“You're so beautiful, baby.” Steve says, before Eddie cuts in with “and you’re all ours.”
Eddie snakes an arm around you, moving you up towards your pillows as if you weigh nothing. He tears your panties off with a loud rip with promises to buy you a new pair as he and Steve lay on either side of you. They kiss your jaw, neck and arms as they each take one of your thighs, rubbing their palms against the meat of them before they're spreading them wider, hooking each foot over their laps so they have easier access to your center.
A shiver runs through you, the parallel in which you felt with Billy is staggering as you realize you will never want anyone, the way you want them.
Both boys bring their wet lips down to your already peaked nipples as they lick and suck at the erect buds, they snake their hands higher between your thighs as they each moan at the wetness that has built up for them and them alone.
Eddie slips two expert fingers into you and hooks them, immediately finding your g-spot, while Steve runs his thumb over your already throbbing clit.
“Holy shit!” You whine in complete and utter pleasure as they both worship and play your body like an instrument.
“Yeah? That feel good, angel?” Eddie mocks, making you moan out louder as both boys’ fingers pick up their pace. The metalhead fucks his into you, as wet squelching could be heard over your wanton screams.
“That’s a good girl, taking everything we give you so good.” Steve praises after popping off of your nipple, that now shines with his spit.
“Just fucking made for us, weren’t you baby?” The long haired boy says while continuing to hit your spot, making your toes curl and your eyes roll back as your peak hits you like a blinding light.
“I’m g-gonna cum, please!” You whine as you throw your head back in complete bliss as both boys attach to each nipple again, their fingers continue to make your spread legs shake.
“That’s it, pretty girl, cum for us. I can feel you squeezing my fingers, just let go.” Eddie whispers
Their unused hands intertwined together behind your head, leaving you all attached to each other.
You’ve never felt so loved, as you let go and give them just what they want.
“Oh fuck!” You shout as you squirm in between them, a gush of fluid wetting their hands up to their wrists as they continue to fuck your through it.
“Fuck, that’s so hot!” Steve moans as he brings his fingers up to your mouth. “Open. Taste yourself.” He demands, you take his appendages that are now dripping in your cum and juices into your mouth, licking and sucking before taking them deep into your throat. Both boys groan as you bob your head, cleaning Steve’s fingers until the only wetness that is left is from your spit.
“That’s right, clean up your mess, dirty girl.” The metalhead growls as he brings his dripping fingers up and shoves them into your mouth after Steve’s removed his. “That’s a good girl.” He coos as he makes you gag, tears immediately fill your eyes as spit seeps out of your mouth and down onto his still reddened and split knuckles.
“Jesus, you’re so perfect, angel.” Eddie mutters as he nuzzles his nose into your jaw before placing more sweet kisses to your skin, a total juxtaposition to how he’s fucking your throat with his fingers.
The other brown eyed boy beside you nips at your ear as his fingers tweak at your sensitive nipples. All of their attention on you is so overwhelming in the best way possible and the fire that they just snuffed out in your lower belly, comes rushing back with a vengeance.
Eddie instantly removes his fingers as he feels you trying to clench your thighs together, that still lay over each boy's clothed lap.
Spit from your mouth dribbles down your chin and onto Steve’s hand that continues to play with your nipples, he roughly rubs the drool off your chin before he’s bringing it back down to your peaked bud, he oh so gently rubs it in with the pad of his index finger, creating goosebumps to form across your body.
The gentle touch to your nipple pulls a whine from between your lips as you grab onto both boys, “I need you.” Is all you can get out, as their hands work your body like their own personal work of art.
“Yeah sweet girl? What do you need, hm? tell daddy.” Eddie mocks with a fake pout.
Steve smiles into the kisses he’s placing onto your neck, at the use of Eddie’s title. There was once upon a time where that was his name for the metalhead but now it belongs to both of you, and fuck, If that's not an instant realization that he loves you and wants to share the other love of his life with you forever, then he doesn't know what is. It's almost as if there is no them, without you. Not anymore.
“Fuck, I love you so much.” Steve mutters to you, making you and Eddie stop, as both of your heads instantly snap towards him. Your wide eyed expression makes the pretty boy want to bury his head in the pillows in complete embarrassment. The metalhead’s stoic expression isn't helping.
“I-I love you too, both of you.” You admit, as your eyes switch from one boyfriend to the other.
Steve exhales a deep breath as Eddie’s face splits into a beaming smile.
“I love both of you, too. I think an unhealthy amount if I'm being honest.” The older boy jokes, but you and Steve both know there's so much truth behind his words.
“I need to feel you both, right now.” Steve whines, and as much as he’d love to have his boyfriend fuck him, what he really needs is to feel you, as his and Eddie’s cocks rub together.
“My two little needy, sluts.” The metalhead chides, before he’s up on his knees in an instant, pushing Steve down on his back and ripping off his clothes before he’s lifting you by your hips and placing you down on the pretty boy's lower stomach. You gasp in surprise; his strength causes the wetness between your thighs to puddle down on Steve’s happy trail, as he takes Steve’s throbbing cock into his mouth and sucks before he’s taking him deep in his throat and bobbing his head.
Steve sweetly takes your face into his hands, as he brings you closer to his lips, feverishly kissing you as his moans slip into your mouth.
Before you know it, Eddie is popping off of his boyfriend's cock and plunging it into your dripping pussy, making you both groan into the heated kiss.
The long haired boy comes up beside you, watching you both. Steve can no longer keep still, he bucks his hips up into yours causing both of you to moan out louder.
“Does that feel good?” He asks the pretty boy, making him bite his lip and nod with a little “mhm” before he’s fucking up into you even harder.
“Tell her, tell her how good she feels around your cock, Stevie.” Eddie whispers into his neck, sloppy kisses being trailed up to his jaw as the younger boy's eyes are rolling into the back of his head, so much pleasure being given to him, he can barely form the words.
“Y-you f-fuck, you feel so good baby, so good, so good…” he continues to repeat like a prayer as his eyes find yours, watching you as your face contorts in complete contentment.
Eddie’s moving back up onto his knees, not able to take anymore teasing as his cock is rock hard and painfully throbbing from just watching his two loves, making love. He needs to be inside one of you before he explodes.
“Inside her pussy.” Is all Steve says before he’s inching himself in right along the other boy's wet cock.
As much as you all have fucked, they’ve never been in one hole at the same time, well besides your mouth.
“Holy fuck, yes please!” You keen as your hand grasps at the headboard, gripping in such a fashion that your hand begins to ache but you can’t let go, as their cocks move simultaneously inside you.
“Yeah baby, take it.” Eddie growls as his hands cover Steve’s, who’s gripping your hips for dear life.
“I love feeling both of you at the same time. Fuck, it’s too good.” Steve whines before taking your nipple that sways above his head, into his mouth and sucking so hard you cry out, wiggling between them as your hips try to meet their matching thrusts.
“Stay still.” Eddie demands with a harsh slap to your ass, “Let us fuck you, kitten.” He groans as his thrusts get harder, skin slapping echoes out into the dimly lit room.
“Yes, daddy!” You sob as tears begin to form in your eyes at how amazing they feel, how much they’re stretching you out and how the steady fire in your belly begins to ignite deeper and blaze hotter, causing your whole body to shake and your eyes to snap shut.
The familiar build up of fluid can be felt before you're almost being pushed over the edge, about to cum so hard you feel as though you may lose consciousness.
A loud “ahh” is pulled from you as both boys perfectly abuse your g-spot with the tips of their achingly hard cocks. You clench around them so tight, making their sensitive tips rub closer together, bringing even more friction and stimulation.
“Oh fuck yeah, cum for us. Soak our cocks baby, c’mon.” Eddie whimpers, pulling your head back by your chin before he’s spitting into your open, wanton mouth.
You swallow it all down with a content sigh, so fucking close to the precipice of pleasure you can feel it as your toes begin to curl and your now grip on Steve’s shoulders gets tighter.
“Come on, fuck come on, pretty girl. Give it to us, baby. We need it.” The pretty boy groans as he tries to coax your orgasm out, faster.
“Oh, yes! I’m cumming!” You warn before a big splash of liquid drenches both boys, along with your new, red sheets below you.
“Yes, yes, I-Im mmm.” Steve moans as his cock begins to twitch, he paints Eddie's cock and your insides making both boys whimper into your skin.
The metalhead is the last to let go and when he does, he fucks his cum so deep inside you, it brings on one more intense but short orgasm from you. Making you clench again, around their sensitive, overstimulated and softening cocks as more liquid splashes onto their thighs.
The mixture of cum seeps down their shafts and to their balls. Eddie thinks the sight of all three of you mixed together is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, he fights his cock from twitching and coming back to life within seconds of such an intense release.
You and Eddie both fall off of Steve, into your respective places with you in the middle.
Both boys grab onto you and each other as if one of you could disappear into thin air, like losing either of you would be instantaneous.
After everyone's breathing settles and the room becomes quiet, Eddie chirps up. “I love you, both. Forever.” He says before he’s placing his head on your chest, his hand slides over your stomach as he reaches for Steve’s, they intertwine their fingers together before their hands settle on your lower stomach and over the sheet you’re all now laid under.
“I can’t wait to spend forever with my two favorite people.”
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•taglist•
@likedovesinthewnd @lil-quinnie @danielabrandt @prettypeachsworld @youare-hackskellington @sebs-oxygen @livsters @wheel-of-hyperfixation @imonhereforareasonsadly @kingdomkitten32 @munson-magic @tiannamortis @katwinchester64 @the-unforgivenn @micheledawn1975 @josephquinnsfreckles @jasminelafleur @emsgoodthinkin @manda-panda-monium @munsonsuccubus @teletubbysteroids @eddies-puppet @munsonssecretblog @eddieslittlewh0re @itsgonnabeoktodsy @randomworker @starrthemushroom @imaautisticchicken @creativename01 @m-chmcl-rmnc @emmerson-1 @siouxiesiouxtryhard @munsonology @pillow-titties @cherryc1nnam0n @wyverntatty @spicedandicedtea @justmeinadaze @violettaskies @bebe07011 @devilinthepalemoonlite @lunatictardis @taintedcigs @aol19 @wheel-of-hyperfixation @m-chmcl-rmnc @sobbingcryingattsizzles @jesuisbenny @munsonsfire @harrypotterzzx @tatianah26
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Text
A little girl spit on me today!
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tomieafterdark · 1 year
Text
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BAKUSQUAD G☆NGBANG DRABBLE 18+
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M☆STERLIST
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pairing: fem!reader x Kirishima x Bakugo x Kaminari (all aged up 21+ in a college frat party setting)
cw: praise, use of good girl, use of slut and whore, squirting, blowjob, spitting, getting filmed, mouth fucking, fingers in mouth, vaginal and anal sex, mentions of using quirk, edging, doubles penetration, Bakugo is referred to daddy just once, overstimulation.
summary: your drunk friend Mina calls for you to come get her at a frat party, but instead you run into the star football players and they have other plans in mind for you.
DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS IF YOU ARE A MINOR. BY CONTINUING TO READ, YOU CONSENT TO VIEWING ADULT CONTENT AND THE CONTENT STATED IN CONTENT WARNING
want another gangbang while you wait for part two? I got you. click here<3
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“Thats right, smile for the camera while Kirishima fucks your cute little brains out. Good girl” Kaminari says while filming you bouncing up and down on Kirishima’s big dick.
You moan and cry out incoherent sentences in reply to him. He just chuckles in return and zooms in on your pathetically cockdrunk face. Your eyes glisten, pretty glossy lips wide open.
You don’t know how you ended up getting gangbanged at a frat party, one second you’re here to get your friend Mina because she can’t drive while drunk, and next second you’re here legs spread wide open for a bunch of nasty frat guys. You knew who they were but you had never talked to them, they were the “star football players” but you always had a feeling they were trouble. Word spreads fast, they were players who’d do anything to get in a girls pants. You hated them, you hated how even though you knew all that you had still let them sweet talk into fucking all of them. A hand on the thigh, a kiss and grinding on someone’s lap somehow lead to a gangbang.
Kirishima puts you on all four and pounds into you at an ungodly pace, no mercy. You cry out and unconsciously try to crawl away but he grips your hips and slams you back onto his dick. The wet sounds of him practically assaulting your pussy are filling the room, the more he pounds the wetter you get, the louder the sounds get.
Bakugo noticed you trying to crawl away from Kirishima’s ruthless pounding earlier, and stands in front of you with his cock out. He grabs you by the hair and rams it into your mouth. “Now you have nowhere to run slut.”
You feel your pussy clenching around Kirishima more than usual, you cry out because of how good yet intense it feels. Bakugo moans out in return, his cock is deep down in your throat and your moaning sends vibrations all over it.
“Kaminari, come film her hole I think this bitch might be cumming again. Zoom in on how she’s clenching” kirishima says while spreading your cheeks so Kaminari can get a good shot of your pussy when you cum.
You don’t just cum, you full on squirt all over his dick with legs shaking all over the place.
“Such a good shot, what a pretty little pussy” Kaminari says behind you. He slaps your ass and walks over to film your fucked out face. He grabs your face with Bakugos cock still going in and out of your mouth, at a slower pace this time. “What a pretty girl, you did so good on Kirishima’s cock squirting and shaking like that.” He coos. You just smile in return, too fucked out to be able to do anything else.
Bakugo feels like he is about to cum in that pretty little mouth of yours any second now, he grabs Kaminari’s camera and films your face.
“Look into the camera you little whore, and keep eye contact. You get that??”
“Mhhm” you whimper on his cock, all teary eyed.
He fucks your throat viciously, it’s so hard to not shut your eyes close. You do it once and he slaps you. “What did I say about eye contact? Don’t make me slap you again.”
Your pussy clenches at his harsh words, he is so mean and disrespectful but it just gets you off more. You can feel him twitching in your mouth, seconds after warm sticky liquid is filling you. He keeps fucking into your mouth, his cum is dripping out from the sides of your mouth. He pulls his dick out of your mouth and asks you to pull your tongue out. Your otherwise red tongue is now white from all the cum, there’s so much of his sticky white liquid dripping down from the tip of your tongue. Bakugo spits in your mouth, and makes you swallow a mix of his cum and spit. “Such a good little whore” is the last thing he says to you as he walks away and hands the camera back to Kaminari. “Fuck Bakugo I didn’t know you were this nasty” you think to yourself.
Kirishima makes you straddle him and has you on top of him now dick inside your pussy, but he isn’t moving for some reason he is just holding you still. You feel so full and sensitive, even though there’s no movement you clench ever so often. You’re way too tired to wonder why so you put your head in his shoulder and close your eyes for a second.
“Hey baby don’t pass out now” he says in your ear and strokes your hair. “Kaminari hasn’t had his fun with you yet, we don’t want to leave him out so we?” He spreads your asscheeks apart and starts poking on the empty hole, insinuating Kaminari would fuck your ass.
“N-no I don’t want to leave him out” you say. You’ve done anal before with your own fingers so this should be fine, you quite like it.
“Oh this is going to make a great shot, Kirishima spread her open and keep her in place” Kaminari says while walking towards you with his camera and some lube.
Kirishima spreads your cheeks so much you feel your ass gaping, he makes sure he them like that, his strength is unmatched it’s impossible to move wriggle yourself out of his hold. Bakugo sits next to Kirishima, he is smoking a blunt though not doing so much more.
Kaminari starts with one finger, it slides right in because of the lube. You moan into Kirishima’s shoulder and your nails dig into his strong arms. You could dig all you want, he barely feels it. Kaminari’s finger goes in an out slowly first but the pace quickens and you want to move so bad, even push yourself against his finger and have it inside you deeper but Kirishima has you stuck in that same position unable to move even a little muscle. You moan out a cute little “more please.”
“Oh baby wants more? You heard her Kaminari she wants more” Kirishima says. He kisses your forehead, looks into your eyes and says “you’re doing so good cutie. You’re fucked out but you’re still taking it.” You are too tired to reply so you just kiss his neck in return. Kaminaris next move would surely wake you up though.
“Oh my god FUCK-“ you scream.
“Looks like she’s not so fucked out after all.” Bakugo says to Kirishima.
What made you suddenly wake up was the shift from one of Kaminari’s fingers to three of them at once. You have never in your life taken this much in your ass, your own fingers were nothing from Kaminari’s. Your ass is clenching and unclenching like crazy, you’re about to have an anal orgasm. You’re way louder for this orgasm than you were during your other ones earlier, that makes Bakugo shove two fingers in your mouth.
“Be quiet whore” he says “or I’ll activate my quirk in there.” He says.
You just cry out in return but your sounds are muffle.
Nothing could ever prepare you for Kaminari’s dick. It was bigger than you expected, you hadn’t seen it because he spent the whole time filming the other guys destroying your two holes. You really had no idea what was coming.
Kaminari forces the tip in and you’re already crying and moaning on Bakugo’s fingers. Bakugo puts his fingers so far in you gag but he doesn’t think that’s enough torture. He uses his other free hand to torture your sensitive nipples, your reaction is gold to him. You’re losing it. Kaminari’s tip is the only part of him that’s inside your ass, and you don’t know how to act.
“Kaminari, only fuck her with the tip in until I give you the signal” Bakugo says. “Just keep teasing her ass for now” he says and moves his free hands down to your clit. Kaminari nods, he is excited for what Bakugo has planned.
He starts playing with your clit, and tells Kirishima to fuck into your pussy but at a slower pace until further notice. You’re in awe of Bakugo right now, but also afraid of what he has planned for you because his look is dark and sinister right now.
“And you, you’re gonna keep eye contact with me the whole time you hear me? Nod if you do.”
You nod quickly.
“That’s a good obedient little whore, keep that good behaviour up and maybe I won’t go too hard on you.” He smirks.
After what feels like ages of edging and slow fucking, Bakugo decided you’re ready. Kaminari and Kirishima were tired of the edging too, they just wanted to slam into you and fill your holes with their sticky white cum until you were filled to the brim. Bakugo puts his fingers out of your mouth and grabs his phone to film your face, and tells them they can go all out now. The last thing you see before getting fucked absolutely stupid is Bakugo’s phone in your face and his low chuckle.
Your whole body is shaking as they both pound into you, all the pent up energy from the edging is making this all more intense than it should be. You feel all sorts of sweet spots getting friction inside of you and Bakugo makes sure to capture all of it on his phone as Kaminari films your ass taking a huge dick for the first time. You’ve squirted about three times just now and they just keep getting more rough by the second.
“P-please fill me with your cum” you whimper. “Creampie my slutty little holes!!”
Bakugo smiles at how pathetic you are begging to be creampied. He rubs your clit making you cum all over the guys again.
You’re so sensitive you’re wishing they’d cum and get it over with at this point, it hurts to cum. Bakugo knows this, and that’s why he keeps playing with your clit. He slaps and rubs it, puts his spit on it and forces you to watch what he does and you cum again. Squirting all over the place. He won’t let you have eye contact with the other guys or to do anything with them, just look into his camera and follow his demands like a good girl.
You feel like you’re at the brink of passing out, Bakugo slaps life into you. “Did I tell you to pass out whore? Look at daddy while his friends destroy your tight little holes.”
Bakugo’s mean talking pushes you over the edge and you cum again, this time Kirishima and Kaminari cum with you. Your holes are filled with cum, they keep fucking into you though overstimulating themselves.
Bakugo didn’t leave you on the couch but the others did to continue partying, he is just filming all the cum dripping out of you but also making sure you wake up and no one takes advantage of you while you’re asleep. He knew you were here for Mina because she’s drunk and had called her an Uber for her ages ago, he just didn’t tell you because the stressed look on your face every time you remembered a drunk friend needed you, and you’re here getting railed instead was hilarious to him. When you’d wake up, he’d essentially get you an Uber but for now you’re just passed out with cum dripping out of your holes being perfect group chat material. Sero was dumb as hell to not come to this party.
PART TWO
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sweets4dolls · 3 months
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*crashes through window, covered in blood*
Ok ok hear me out. Lute abusing her high ranking position in heaven in order to have her way with a much lower ranking angel
𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝒶𝓉 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓀
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pairing: lute + fem!reader
content warnings: smut, dubious consent, mean lute, not proofread, workplace sex,
notes: live laugh lute('s fingers) ੈ✩‧₊˚
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the only reason lute came into the office was to see you.
yes, she didn't actually have to come in, she could most definitely go about and keep order in heaven and have someone else file her reports for her, but then she wouldn't get to see your pretty face:(
so you're what keeps her showing up to the heavenly workplace, getting to see you, the cute little secretary that scampers around, practically flaunting those short skirts in her face, getting everyone they're food and drinks and whatever else they ask for, so it keeps her asking for more.
she's always the one consistently asking you to do more for her - get her more stuff, go run this off somewhere, bring this to her - just so she can see more of your pretty face.
at this point, she's seem you so much she remembers your handwriting, memorized the repeating colors of ribbons you wear in your soft hair, the specific gait you have when you walk - an ethereal thing for her to behold as you do it with a kind of looseness and a ghost of a drag, very meretricious.
so wanting to see more of you, she keeps ordering you around, keeping you late and working you into the ground, making it not long before you accidentally screw something up.
one day, she calls you into her private office late, after everyone else is gone. as you walk in, posture slightly sunken and eyes tired and lost-looking. she looks at you accusingly with piercing eyes as she taps the tip of her nail against a paper that you had filled out for her.
"what's this?" she asks you harshly, making you instantly stiffen as you peer to look at your mistake.
"I'm so sorry, ms. lute, I'll fix it immediately" you say, eyes lingering on the paper before looking up at her again, a hand outstretched to take the paper from her grasp so you can repair your mistake.
she grabs your hand and wrenches your body forward like a baby animal she could pick up by the neck, making you let out a soft noise of surprise as your cheeks burn - what had you messed up this bad to warrant this kind of response?
"yeah you're going to fucking fix it," she spits as she takes both of your fragile wrists in one hand, keeping them pressed down on the desk behind your back as she slams her lips against yours, feverishly kissing you, something she's been waiting so long to do.
"god, you must've known, doing what you were doing, looking up at me with those pretty eyes every morning, always being such a good girl, always so easy," she says in between kisses, "but look at you now, making mistake on purpose, like you wanted me to do this," she says as her other hand travels up your skirt, palming you through wet panties, making you whimper in her mouth and lean into her.
she chuckles at your reaction which only spurs her on more as her hand moves inside your panties. "aww, look at how wet you are" she coos superciliously, proud of her work as she gently spreads and teases your slit.
your eyes widen as she actually dips into your pussy, head rolling onto her shoulder as you whine pathetically in her ear and hips try to jut into her fingers, needing her deeper. you just can't help the feeling of warmness in the bottom of your tummy, sensing it grow as she continues to fuck you on her fingers and whisper depraved things in your innocent ears.
"lute" the word tumbles out of your mouth as she lets you press into her, your hair a mess as you whine and whimper. "I know pretty girl, don't worry, I'm gonna wreck this pussy" she promises as she continues her assault until you're cumming all over the desk, making a mess, her fingers not bothering to stop.
"w-wait, slow down, need-" you stutter out through gasps, not able to form your full sentence before she shushes you with her own words.
"no, you dumb little girl, don't you remember? this is a punishment"
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h34rtbeat · 2 months
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Could you please make a fic abt bully jake and heeseung with heavy non con?
i loveee this idea sm. Ty anon.
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warnings: non-con, sexual harassment, blackmail, assault, mean!jake and mean!heeseung
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school is supposed to be fun. it’s supposed to be a place where you feel safe, and secure.
instead, you’re stuck between two guys in the musky lockers, your ass being used as a fleshlight for the meanest guys in school. uniform skirt flipped up, so that the camera they use to record you captures all the angles they like.
fucking into your cunt and mouth mercilessly, swearing they’d show everyone in the school just how fucking dumb you are.
planting deep hot seeds inside of you, making you swallow and spasm. maybe someday, they’d send those pretty nudes of yours out to the entire football team. who knows?
it started off as harmless names. sometimes sexual, yes, but nothing you couldn’t ignore.
names like “doll face”, escalated into insulting your appearance, small jokes about your appearance turned into shaming you, and so on..
starting to trip you, just so they could see your tits jiggle when you stumbled. jake especially, enjoyed when your skirt would flip up a bit as you’d fall onto your own face.
heeseung liked it when he would throw things off your desk. watching your cute ass bend over, picking up the pencil and notebook, the way you nibbled on your bottom lip when you became scared.
jake enjoyed seeing your teary eyes beg him to stop, when he locked you in an empty classroom, as his hands roamed around areas they shouldn’t.
he likes it even more, when his spit coated cock was between your lips, as you chocked and gagged on it. it wasn’t your fault, it was your first! and he liked that even more.
the more power he held, the better. now he has your first oral experience, how can you not like him!
“mhm— hmph—! mh-no! d-don’t.. mmm.. refroctg.!” you choked out, begging him as you looked up with tear stained cheeks into the camera. your words muffled the fat cock stretching your lips.
“or what? you gonna tell someone?” jake chuckled mockingly, a moan slipping past his lips as you sucked and slurped.
“they’d find it hard to believe that a prissy bitch like you could ever get dick. now shut up and keep sucking, or i send this to your friends.”
heeseung shoving you in the janitors closet, flipping your skirt up and ripping your tights, his fingers going deep into your sopping cunt. you held his hand over your mouth.
your knees, tempting to buck, the way you thrashed against him as his fingers did a brutal assault on your puffy pussy.
heeseung didn’t like recording, you belonged to him anyway. and you knew it. besides, what was the point of threatening you? a nerd like you wouldn’t ever snitch on him, he knew.
“stop fuckin’ moving..” he says, in your ear.
“you must really wanna be seen with some fingers in your pussy or somethin’..” he cooed, curling his fingers.
he was hitting a spot inside of you that made you scream against his hand.
“you act like you don’t enjoy it..” he chuckles, dipping his fingers in your mouth now, making you gag.
“but.. you’re dripping. bet you wouldn’t like it if i showed it to mr. sam, yeah?” he mocks, grunting as you came all over his fingers.
starting actions from those, led to them having their way with you every time.
even sending nudes to them, as you obviously didn’t want to. threatening to show everyone, when you even tried refusing them.
your perky tits, bouncing up and down, bare in jake’s room as he shoved his cock deep inside, your throat stuffed. jake couldn’t get enough, snapping pictures of the obscene sight.
your bullies liked you, really.
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roguelov · 10 months
Text
Bubblegum Pop
Summary: An annoying habit of yours - popping your gum - finally pushed Miguel over the edge. So, he decided to finally take action.
Word Count: ~1.7k
Reader: Gender Neutral (not specified)
Warnings: Brief heated make-out (nothing more, just a hint of spice), a little arguing, unestablished relationship
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Pop.
Hunched forward - back aching slightly from the uncomfortable position - at your new desk in Miguel’s office, you blew yet again another bubble. It was the umpteenth one within the short hour. Miguel gritted his teeth, each pop grated on his ears.
Why? Why did he agree to this?
Ah, yes, your scientific background.
You had offered your assistance to try to find a more permanent way to prevent anomalies from spilling out into other universes. He was obviously reluctant at first, but before he could say no - as per usual with any help - Lyla appeared saying yes for him. Sighing, he relented. He did need help, he happened to also be very stubborn too. But, he definitely did not agree to deal with your annoying habit.
Wherever you went, and at most times of the day, a piece of gum was slotted between your teeth. You always chewed on a piece, enjoying the simple habit. You like rolling it over your tongue and throughout your mouth, savoring the always fleeting minty taste, and of course blowing bubbles. Sigmund Freud might say you have an oral fixation.
Worst of all, in Miguel’s opinion, the sweet minty aroma clung fiercely to you. One brush by and his senses were assaulted by you.
And it drove Miguel insane.
Dear god, he wanted to kiss you, knowing exactly how you would taste on his tongue. He wanted to have you pinned beneath him, writhing in pleasure. He wanted to nuzzle his nose into your neck, inhaling deeply and running his tongue over your skin. He wanted to -
Pop.
Miguel flinched.
His spiraling thoughts were viciously cut short; thankfully before he got too heated and distracted. His lips thinned. His anger wasn’t all directed solely at you, but mostly at himself for delving into such lustful thoughts. Again.
It was just easier to be angry at someone else.
Miguel peered over his shoulder, glaring a little at you. He stood at his desk on the circular platform that rested a foot off the ground, rather than raised high above towards the ceiling. He tried to keep his voice calm as he spoke, “Can you stop that?”
“Huh?” You glanced over at him slightly confused. The piece of gum rested on your bottom lip and teeth before your tongue swept it back into the dark corners of your mouth. “What?”
Oh, that only further irritated him; your genuine obliviousness to how annoying and frustrating your popping was to his sensitive ears. As if proving his point, you absentmindedly blew another bubble.
“That. Stop doing that,” he huffed.
You blinked, “Oh, uh, sorry.”
You quickly turned back to your screens. You felt a little embarrassed. It wasn’t intentional - it never was - and you felt somewhat guilty for upsetting him. You thought about spitting it out, but you enjoyed the minor stimulation. Then again, you supposed you should act a little more professional. Maybe, you will try to cut back.
Maybe.
Miguel eyed you for a moment. Your figure was hunched forward again. Yet, there was a new tension woven into your body, as if you were trying to shrink away. He sighed. He shouldn’t have snapped, and he should apologize. However, he didn’t. Not surprising. So, he spun around focusing back on his own work.
An hour must have passed. Another agonizing hour with no progress or improvements to show for it.
What fun.
You leaned back in your chair, looking up at the high vaulted ceiling. Crossing your arms, you let out a disappointed sigh.
One act - one simple sigh - and Miguel had to suppress a groan. He was instantly overwhelmed by the sweet mint. He dug his fingers into the edges of his desk. The desk creaked under such strength. His talons definitely made small dents as he desperately held himself back. It was all so enticing. He wanted to taste you, and his body craved you.
Oblivious to Miguel’s struggle, you allowed your thoughts to consume you. Some were important - like the multiple ideas to seal the leaking portals issue to possible new ways to improve Spider Society in general - to the completely irrelevant - such as a song stuck in your head from this morning, thoughts about what to have for dinner, to the more perverse ones about a certain hot headed spider. Thoughts about anything and everything, but not about what Miguel asked of you. No, that one thing had been quickly brushed aside and forgotten: don’t blow any more bubbles.
Your tongue was already going through the habit, a muscle memory at this point. You flattened out the surprisingly still minty gum, rolling over it a few times. Moving it around, you pressed the now stretched piece of gum to your teeth. And without a care or sparing a second thought, you blew.
The small pop was quite deafening in the silent, vast room. So much, it reverberated and echoed just a bit. Almost cartoonishly so.
You instantly flinched in your seat. You almost didn’t dare look over at him. His wrath already emanated from him in waves. Slowly peering over, more so out of curiosity, all you saw was Miguel’s back. His muscles were wrought in tight agitated nerves. You hissed through your teeth and sheepishly mumbled, “Sorry.”
Miguel exhaled loudly, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “God, can’t you do the one thing I asked of you?”
The main problem of Miguel O’Hara was that his anger was infectious. Your embarrassment, and regret, vanished instantaneously. His snide comment set a fire inside of you.
Pop.
Miguel whipped his head around. You leaned causally back in your chair with a bored expression. You cocked an eyebrow and blew another bubble in his direction.
His eyes widened, the gall of you. He stepped down from his desk area, and marched over to you. His eyes burned with a firey irritation. You should be intimidated - and admittedly you were. However, you wouldn’t outwardly show it. He grabbed the back of your swivel chair and whirled you around. He bent down. His hands landed on the armrests, caging you in and looming over you threateningly. “Spit it out.”
You popped another bubble. “No.”
A waft of mint filled his nose. He gritted his teeth. “Spit it out,” he repeated, seething in anger.
You puckered your lips. You didn’t answer. Miguel thought you had finally come to your senses at least.
Nope. He was wrong.
Your lips parted. The pale blue gum was stretched over your tongue. Pressing it to your teeth, you blew. The pop echoed louder than all the others before, or it seemed like it did. A bit of gum stuck to your lip, but you quickly licked it away.
Miguel twitched.
He reached out, grabbing your face and smushing your cheeks. His talons started to dig into your cheeks. You thought he was going to force you to spit it out. You tucked the gum in the back corner of your mouth, then glared ferociously up at him. You tried to jerk your head out of his grasp, but he kept you firmly in place.
He leaned in. His crimson eyes burned brightly. You expected more heated words, calling you such things like childish or immature. Hell, for a brief second, you expected him to reach inside of your mouth. But, he surprised you.
His lips collided with yours.
You inhaled sharply, eyes going wide.
Yet, he did not falter.
Oh, he had you now, and he was ready to devour you. He wanted you. His teeth - his fangs - grazed over your bottom lip. You shivered, and piece by piece you leaned more and more into the kiss. Your resolve, and confusion, melted away. Your eyes fluttered close, thoroughly enjoying this strange turn of events.
Why? Why was this happening … why do I care? Enjoy it.
His hand moved and wrapped around the back of your neck. Tugging on the edges of your hair, he tipped your head back further. He deepened the kiss. His tongue skimmed by, begging for entrance. You happily, almost too eagerly, obliged. Humming pleased, his tongue slipped inside and swirled around. You reached out, bunching up the front of his suit. A moan rumbled in the back of your throat.
And he swallowed it up.
Fuck.
His tongue explored, tasted, and continuously drew out such desires. Your thoughts seized, and your skin ignited with passion. His lips were the gasoline to a small kindling fire inside of you. You were set ablaze. Your heart pounded in your ears, nearly drowning out the sensual noises of him attacking your lips. Your body burned hotter and hotter with each passing second. You were aching for him. To be fair, you always did. But, you never thought the day would come. And you never expected for him to make the first move.
It was too much, and somehow not enough.
Unfortunately, this bizzare dream ended. He pulled away, breaking the kiss. You whined very faintly.
Why? Why did it have to end?
Opening your eyes, you saw a thin trail of spit connecting to his lips from yours. He easily wiped it away with his tongue. You shivered. His eyes shone with such amusement. He greatly enjoyed the effect he had on you. You were breathing heavily, gasping for air. Your whole body slouched forward, drooped with the desire he brought out.
Why? What -
Miguel then smirked mischievously. Ever so slowly, he parted his lips, revealing a piece of gum nestled between his front teeth. You blinked, a jolt ran down your spine. No. Your tongue searched your mouth. Oh yes indeed, that was your gum.
Your eyes widened.
He turned his head, spitting it out in the nearby waste bin.
“Next time,” he began and bent back down to your level. His eyes dropped to your swollen, abused lips. Smirking, he teasingly wiped the corner of your mouth with his thumb. He gently held your chin, tipping it up. Leaning in, he whispered to your lips, “Listen.”
Your mouth just hung agape in stunned silence.
“Now, get back to work.” He let his fingers trail along your jaw, before heading back to his desk.
He was utterly satisfied with the outcome, and pleased to think he made his point perfectly clear. You, on the other hand, made a mental note to always carry a pack of gum on you at all times from now on.
A point was made, just not one Miguel had hoped.
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heartfullofleeches · 10 months
Text
Table 9
Yan Customer + Fast Food Worker Reader + Yan Entities (Mascot, Bathroom Succubus) [18+ mdni]
Summary: Tired of a frequent customer's daily attempts to ask you out, you take your spite to the next level
Warnings/Tags: Food/Cum Play, masturbation, handjobs, rimming, Reader's gender unspecified but they have a peen(amab), aphrodisiacs, slight crack
"Pick up for table seven!"
Morning rush - the calm within the neverending storm. Not even a full twelve hours since you've been away from your job, and here you were manning the front as usual. You weren't scheduled to come in until noon, but somewhere around dawn your coworker made the mistake of opening the drive-through window. Pickfork or not, an angry customer banging on the glass was a safer choice that whatever resided in there. While hectic and overwhelming at times, you welcomed the morning hustle with open arms and as big a smile your weary spirit could muster. The distraction kept your mind off what was to come. The dreaded hour and number that itched at the back of your mind with each passing customer. You don't know if you have the strength today.
"Next!"
"Good afternoon... Y/n~"
Oh no. No. Your head snaps towards the clock. 12:00pm. You duck beneath the counter to check the number of table markers left. There's only one remaining - the identifying curve of the digit in the shadows a mocking grin. Spinning to your feet as if nothing happened, you will the smile of someone held at gun point at the familiar face. A well dressed individual stood before you; neat suit, manicured nails. If you had to guess, they were about your age if not a couple years older, but the twinkle in their eye and lack of wrinkles gave them that youthful patience this job was draining you of. All in all, they appeared to be just another business person grabbing a quick meal on their way to work - but you knew better.
"Afternoon! What can I get you today?"
"Oh, I'm sure we know each other well enough by now to know what I want. I'll have the usual." They point up at the menu, but their sight lingers upon you - the only feast they sought after.
A chill worse than a night in the meat locker courses down your spine as their tongue draws over their pearly whites and smooth lips. Table 9 - whereas the number marker of most booths changed with a new order, there was only one that retained its title and customer. A tiny, two seater in the right corner of the establishment - the perfect view point for the various crimes you committed on their assorted beverages.
The first indication there was something truly wrong with this person came when they had reported finding one of your hairs in their food. When you offered to replace it, they merely thanked you for your hard work and placed the stray lock in the locket they currently wore around their neck. You later found your hair to be uneven on one end when you took a shower. The limits of their depravity had no end. You once spat in their cup in viewing range out of retaliation for their insistency on joining them on a nice walk to their van for a nice reward for all your efforts. You came to your senses as soon as the spit flew, but they beckoned you and their treat over before you could throw it out - downing half of it right in front of you. You can't help but repeat the action everytime they enter despite the joy and hunger in their eyes when you pass it off.
"Right - one small vanilla ice cream in a sundae container. Will that be all?"
"Actually, I was hoping you could make it extra special for me. You see, today is my birthday and while I enjoy everything your fire establishment has to offer - I fear I am craving something... different. I do pray I'm not being greedy by saying this, but I simply can't get enough of you."
Something different? If they're referring to you spitting in their cup - what else could they want?
"They want you to jizz in their ice cream."
The plume of heavy perfume and medical herbs assaults your nostrils in the same time that her voice has on the rest of your senses. Your coworker nibbles on the straw of her beverage, offering you a wave and a wink as your eyes shift between her and the customer. They wouldn't want that.
"Ignore her - I'm sure whatever you need won't break anymore health code violations than we already have." You slowly eye the customer up and down. "I'm seventy percent sure whatever you need won't break anymore health code violations than we already have."
Gentle blush dusts their hollow cheek. They hide the curl of their lips with their fist as they glance elsewhere. "W-well.... I wouldn't be opposed to it.
They definitely want that.
Your coworker gently nudges your arm. "Eh, I say you should do it. It's their birthday after all and your break's still an hour away. I'll handle business up here until you get back."
You raise an eyebrow. "Normally you and the rest of them are quick to get rid of anyone who so much as breathes at me after I take their order." Your shoulders slump as the realization hits you. "You predicted this somehow and want to watch me on the security cameras during your next break."
"I totally did - and do. Plus, I'm fairly certain that guy isn't human either and after seeing what those hands in the ball pit can do, I really don't want to get my ass kicked unless you're in real trouble."
"Figures.... Alright, fine - I'll do it." Taking off your apron and setting it on the counter, you smack the customer's hands away from it as you finish their order. You grab the dreaded number from beneath the desk and hand it to them. They wait patiently for your command - you roll your eyes. "Don't just stand there - you know where to go."
"Hm, true - I just wanted to hear your voice longer. To picture the blessed sounds you'll make for me back there."
"Don't push it."
Your coworker thrusts her cup into your hands. "Drink some. It'll help you finish quicker."
You mindlessly wrap your lips around the bitten draw. "How is watered down diet cola supposed to help me?"
"Infused with my spit."
Oh...right. It's fairly easy to forget your coworker is a succubus when she wears contacts to hide the blacks of her eyes and your uniform hat already comes with horns. Your head swims: vision spotty as your breathing grows ragged. Startled and aroused by the soft flesh pressed against your arm, your eyes dart to her as she nestles your arm in her chest - lacey black bra poking from her unbuttoned shirt.
You shutter as she blows against your neck. "If....we ever get that priest out of the ball pit, I'm giving him your address first."
"And I love you too - now get going."
You stumble forward as she pushes you on - shaking legs and a heavy body tugging you through the kitchen; the waypoint task of grabbing a sundae cup near impossible with the weightlessness of your limbs. You tumble your way into the empty break room, dragging your work pants down to mid thigh and your shirt over stomach as you relieve the building strain in your underwear. You flinch as the drooling tip slaps against your navel; hand firm around the base. You fist your cock to full mass as the cup flies across the table; your back hunched as you lurch across the wooden surface. Swallowing the end of your shirt to stifle your panting breaths, the cold, ventilated air nibs at your bare torso and thighs.
The stimulant in your coworker's saliva taking full effect - your mind floods with crude imagery as your cock throbs painfully in your hand. Pressing the plush of your palm to your girth, your thoughts draw back to your dear coworker and her innocent ploy of placing your arm against her breast; how they spilled out of her top daily and the way she battered her eyes when she caught you staring. Rutting your cock between her tits and waiting tongue would be too much for you right about now. You thought about that annoying customer taking her place on their knees before you; eyes cloudy with love-struck awe and desire as you stroked yourself to completion and came down their eager throat.
"S...shit...hah..." You groan loudly, the shift of the table as your hips snap against your wrist perfectly masking the creak of break room door as it glides open. The figure cranes its large body and neck to peer in at you as you attempt to fix the table while still fisting your dick in one hand. You linger in your agonizing high, unaware of its presence - until it begins to whistle.
The mascot.
You turn back in time to see that hulking figure maneuver its curving horns through the doorframe as it enters the room. Its chest extends with a stale breath; unblinking eyes training on your smaller stature and leaking member. The lack of bloodstains on its apron and leather gloves tells you its been unsuccessful with its daily hunts, but something warns it wasn't after human flesh in its preferred cut.
Lambchop the goat demon. Obviously not your choice in naming, but you settled on just calling it what it was. The humanoid devil had been responsible for majority of the disappearances around the restaurant and number four on your headache list. Whether as it met your fellow coworkers with butcher knives and their fallen companions in nugget containers, it greeted you with bouquets of flowers and signals to braid your hair as you worked. It wasn't the most annoying entity, but you'd prefer to have the extra hands it keeps chopping off. You'd never seen under its mask, but considering everything else that went on here you didn't expect to see much.
The Mascot stalks towards you, lowering its clever to the floor and its head in curiousity. You chew your lower lip as its hands come up to your sweaty, quivering thighs. The skin beneath your teeth breaks as it pads a finger to your balls - eyes worked back up at you.
"Make it quick."
You don't need to tell it twice. Gripping your shoulders, the mascot spins you on your heels and takes your cock into its leathery hand, pointed finger tips curling against your abdomen. It tucks its claws into its palm as it rubs your length; the harsh, yet tender pressure to your dick making your head spin as it did the first hit of the aphrodisiac. You hear the tear of fabric and soon find the mascot's slimy tongue coursing the vein lines in your neck - teeth locking around the sensitive flesh of your collar. You whimper at the spill of your blood over its fangs and the shameful ecstasy as it suckles the area and teases your nipple between its fingers. The mascot looks down to see the bounce of your ass against its thigh as you fuck its fist with another bout of sinful cries - suddenly pushing you over as your stomach twists in knots.
"the hell are you.....ngh!"
You grit your teeth as the mascot tanks your pants and shorts down to your ankles. Its long, heavy tongue darts out and licks the precum glazed head, dragging up the underside of your twitching cock to your balls and finally pressing against your asshole. You claw at the table for mercy as the thick appendage works its grithy slime into your tight hole; large hand gripping your cheek and spreading them apart as it wriggles against your walls. Its saliva drips down over your balls as it explodes; staining your cock black as it smears the drool into your shaft as it continues to milk you off your building worth. You clench around the muscle, legs close to giving out before its strong arms and shoulders catch - tongue fucking back atop the creaking table. You reach back to grab its horns with your noodly limbs, all remaining strength lost as you cry out.
"Fuck!... slow...slow down. I can't-"
"Y/n! You almost done in there!?"
You blink away tears as you call out. "Y-yea! I'm...ah- coming... I'll be there soon!"
The mascot slams its tongue into your ass; mixture of its length and thickness reaching deeper than you could with your fingers and hitting all the right spots that made retrieving the cup a feat. You nearly forgot about it, and the whole reason you came in here with your mind void of all thoughts beyond your impending climax. You tug the mascot's horn, begging for pause so you can fit the plastic container beneath you. It completely ignores you and swats your hand away, leaving you to struggle getting it under the table as you rock back on its tongue and snout. Your tip hits the bottom of the cup as your vision whites; full body trembling as you shoot ropes of your milky cum into the container. The mascot drills you vigorously through your earthshaking orgasm, ripping another out of you before you're able to call it off through whines. It stands up and takes the cup lose in your sweaty hands, aiming your dick at its rim as the dribbles of your spend run down its interior. The mascot pulls you up against its clothed chest, patting your head and praising you with soft hums as it picks your pants up off the floor and loops the buckle around your waist all with one hand. It stares, unblinking at you glance back - awaiting its reward. You kiss its cheek as you lower your shirt.
"Thanks."
The mascot nuzzles your cheek with its nose, watching and licking its stained hand as it leaves the way it came. It looks back at the cup - almost remorseful in its stare. Looking down at the cup, you see it filled roughly halfway with your spunk - likely increase by the effects of the naturally produced drug. You cringe as you pick it up, stumbling your way back out the break room and to the ice cream machine. You glare down the dreaded box and the spirit inside as you grab its handle.
"Do not.... fuck with me today."
The machine quietly dispenses the ice cream, the creamy white mostly masking the translucent fluid at the bottom. The machine let's you go about your day with no further issue - ghost hover off, disappointed. "A kiss would've been nice."
You wobble your way to the front; clothes wrinkled and hanging off your shoulders, body sweaty and hair clinging to your face. You fix your hat as you straighten yourself against the counter, slamming the container down - clutching your chest as you breath. "Order for Table... 9..."
"Ah!" The customer snatches the ice cream up, lips aimed directly for the freezing rizz on the edge of the cup. They sight in delight, stiff posture relaxed in favor of their newfound taste of paradise. "Heavenly~ I do pray this will be on the minute in the future."
The customer takes their spoon and another bite as they hum happily to themselves, skipping towards their table. You call up the next customer who points at them.
"Can I get whatever they had?"
".....might want to rethink that decision."
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darkenedurge · 7 months
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Edit / Update : Part 2 is now posted here.
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𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐲.
“ 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐲, 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲. 𝐘𝐞𝐭, 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞, 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐲. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬, 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 – 𝐄𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐆𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐡. ”
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CONTENT : P in V Sex | Implied Age Difference (Enver refers to Durge as “little one”) | Sloppy Make-Outs, Mark Making, all that good stuff | Referenced Switch! Durge | Dom! Enver Gortash | “Forgive me Father for I have sinned” (that’s.. basically the whole fic/plot) | Rough Sex | Spit as lube, fun !!
` Inspired by this post.
And also, this song;
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˚ ✧.
“But, ma’am, you could have anyone you wanted–”
Your dagger was swiftly swung, landing just a mere fraction before it met the skin of the poor, fragile, meek, little butler. His eyes flit, from each corner of the room, to the door – as it remained open, only by a crack. If he ran, he surely couldn’t make it, and even if he did – that would certainly be the end for him. This was heresy, both you and he knew that equally. Yet, another shared knowledge, was that you would never free your favourite toy. You were bounded in his chains, just as much as he in yours – Enver Gortash.
It wasn’t a faux claim, to say that you could have anyone. Followers, worshippers, dedicants of Bhaal, were far too quick, eager to throw themselves at your feet – be bent at your will, trampled beneath your pretty foot. These were all trivial matters, and ones that you rarely indulged in for such reasons. Perhaps on occasion, for a quick fuck. Though, you were almost always unsatisfied – insatiable.
Always would you delve impatient, frustrated fingers into your begging cunt, bringing yourself to the edge with a flutter of your eyelashes. Pleasure, but not in its truth. No, that’s where Enver came in.
.
You weren’t sure how it had even occurred. He and you, had always had a lingering eye for once another – stealing glances and sparing the flick of your tongue across your lip, wetting the plush skin, as you allowed yourself only a second longer to indulge in his stature. Small, fleeting moments of tension had somehow, pinned you beneath him – his teeth assaulting your collarbones, marks of possession and brutality staining your skin. Even the simple, slight swirl of his tongue as his mouth enveloped your nipple, had you gasping – hand flying to his hair, fingers curling and taking a fistful of his shaggy, inky locks. His knee parts your legs, and you rut needily against him. To which, he chuckles – scoffs, and tuts, “Impatient little thing, aren’t you? Someone hasn’t been taking care of my favourite assassin in my absence.. I should’ve claimed you sooner.” Sweet, citrusy words. Words of praise that, pathetically, could’ve made you come right there and then.
“M’sorry..” You murmur, breath audibly hitching as Enver pinched a nipple between his teeth, “You just feel so good.”
He hums, and the sound reverberates through your chest – forcing a shiver to course throughout your body, riding up your spine. “We’ve barely started, little one,” His eyes greet yours, head raised as he speaks, “It’s not good quite yet.”
That’s when your lips connect, for the first time, and the entirety of your stomach coils into tight, pleading knots. Enver grunts, the noise muffled by your intertwined passion – drool seeping from the side of your mouth, sloppy, wet dances shared between your tongues.
You don’t see Enver naked, then. You wouldn’t for a while. For now, and hereafter, he’d simply shrug himself free of the confines that his clothes so needlessly, annoyingly provided. As lazily as he’d enabled himself, Enver only provided the same impatience for you – ushering your panties aside, in favour of wasting precious seconds tugging them down to rest at your ankles. In a strange acknowledgment of admiration, you favoured his methods. His comprehensive need to feel you swallow his cock, take him the way the Gods had so sinfully intended.
Enver wets his fingers, tongue resting upon his lower lip as he swiped the tips until they were adequately coated – lathering your entrance in his saliva, earning a subtle flinch on your behalf. No warning is offered, he pushes into you with force, heavenly in the way that it hurts – in the way he stretches you, as he bottoms out with a wavering groan.
Your walls flutter around him, your hands finding their place upon his shoulders as he begins to piston his hips at a relentless, pace – you squeak, squeal, your nails press into the supple flesh beneath them. Enver is not shy to make noise, in return, his mouth no prison to the grunts, groans and moans that follow – in tandem with his thrusts. Over and over, you feel him assault a spot you hadn’t even known existed – deep, deep inside of you, making you quiver and tighten rhythmically.
“Say my name, little one,” Enver pants out in demand, fucking you evermore, “Say my name.”
You could hardly deny the request of a man who was literally, fucking you senseless. Making your head spin, your cheeks flush and stomach churn. “Enver..” You whine, like a mewling kitten. No, not good enough.
Again, “Enver.” It’s louder this time, and your nails drag down his upper back.
“Enver!” Oh Gods, are you going to cum?
As your heart pounds mercilessly in your ears, you can distantly hear Enver release a small, huff of a laugh. You voice is almost hoarse, as a cry strangles from your throat, “Enver! Enver, I’m-!”
You came. It’s akin to that of a crashing wave, and a roaring fire, in beautiful unison. There’s a hot, swarming pool that follows – Enver, no doubt, laying his claim; cumming almost simultaneously, filling you to the brim. You’re trembling as he holds you, pulls you flush against his chest and peppers kisses to the nape of your neck.
.
He wouldn’t be staying long. Slinking off back, toward his duties without so much as a whisper. Still, such ignorance didn’t pain you. You knew he’d be back, this was the very birth of a whirlwind. One that was destructive, perhaps. But, destruction is your birthright. Your solemn purpose.
You sit, thighs sticky and skin glazed in sweat. “Father,” Your hand is clutched to your exposed chest, resting over the thrum of your heart, “Forgive me..please.”
724 notes · View notes
zepskies · 7 months
Text
Smoke Eater - Part 2
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Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 
Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 
That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   
AN: I was overwhelmed by the response on Part 1 (in the BEST way). 🥹 Thank you so much for everyone who read and sent me your lovely amazing comments! Here's Part 2 a bit early for ya. 😘
🔥 Series Masterlist
Word Count: 6,400 Tags/Warnings: Idiots flirting, with a side of sexual harassment. 😪
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Part 2: "Lieutenant Winchester"
Firehouse 25 was just as much a house as it was a home.
Especially for Dean Winchester.
In the common room, he sat down at his preferred corner of the sofa with a cup of coffee. By now, the guys knew this was his spot, perfectly angled toward the new flatscreen TV someone donated last month.
Up until then, they’d had to hotwire the same tank from 1995, which had only got basic cable. Now at least the newer smart TV came with a subscription to Netflix, courtesy of the donor. 
Dean raised his favorite Batman mug to his face, expecting to imbibe some rich dark roast. What he got was a travesty.
Spitting out the brown soil water back into the mug, he coughed and grimaced.
“Jack!” he called out.
Jack Kline, the newest addition to the house, raised his head from where he was trying to scramble eggs in the open kitchen directly behind the couch.
“Yes, Lieutenant?” he replied.
“Why does this coffee taste like ass?” Dean asked. His voice was still gruff with sleep, as he depended on his morning coffee to wake him up, not assault his tongue.
Behind him, Jack blinked in confusion. “Uh…”
Dean finally turned around and gave the younger man a raised brow.
“What brand did you buy, Candidate?” he asked.
A candidate was a freshly graduated firefighter on probation. They were the rookie, the bottom rung of the totem pole, and Jack was that proverbial whipping post.
“Um…” Jack went to find the coffee canister he’d put away in the cupboards. He showed Dean the red plastic jug. “Folgers. It was on sale.”
“Fuck me,” Dean muttered. “Never Folgers, Candidate. Anything but fucking Folgers. The one thing we don’t skimp out on is quality joe.”
“That ain’t nothin’ but dirt water, son,” Benny remarked, as he and Gordon entered the common room. Benny held a to-go mug he’d brought from home. After he’d seen what Jack brought for groceries yesterday, he’d taken no chances.
“What you wanna get is Gevalia,” Benny added.
“That European crap?” said Gordon. He took his usual spot at the dining table, leaning back in his chair. It left Benny to sit at the other end of the couch with Dean.
“Better than that piss water you drink,” Benny said with a smirk. Gordon raised a brow at him.
“Tea is medicinal, jackass.” The Black man raised a finger to punctuate his point. “It’s good for you. Unlike that carburetor fluid y’all drink.”
“Whatever, man,” Dean said, even though a grin edged at his lips. “All I know is, we need premium coffee, stat. Or it’s gonna be a cranky shift.”
“I can go to the store real quick,” Jack offered.
Say what you want about the kid’s poor taste in grocery buying, he was always willing to jump in when you needed him.
“Nah, stay on breakfast,” said Dean. “I’ll go afterwards. But remember, today you’re practicing rappelling drills.”
Jack nodded. “And lunch duty. And helping clean the truck, and all the bathrooms…did I miss anything?”
Dean shared a look with Gordon. Not only did he drive the truck, but he was one of the men Dean relied on most, as he had the next highest seniority on the job out of the whole firehouse.
Well, except for Benny Lafitte, Captain of the Rescue Squad. Squad members were considered specialists in complex rescue situations. They were highly trained on more sophisticated technical rescue equipment and rappelling, even scuba diving.
It took long years for a firefighter to make it onto Squad; something that Dean used to have ambitions for. But ever since he got promoted to Lieutenant on Truck 79, he realized that his role in this house was best served on the Truck, not on Squad.
“If he gets through all that, Meg might have something for him too,” Gordon said.
“Oh, don’t bring me into this,” remarked a droll voice. “I’ve already got one pound puppy to look after.”
Their Paramedic in Charge strode in with Chuck on her heels. They’d just pulled into the firehouse driveway on Ambulance 7.
“Nice. That’s how you talk about your partner of three years?” Chuck said with a frown. Meg turned to him with a wry grin.
“Only the ones who can hack it on my Ambo,” she replied. “What can I say. You’re special, Shurley. Either that, or a glutton for punishment.”
Gordon shook his head and looked over at Jack.
“Careful with that one. She chewed and hacked out her last partner in under a month.”
“Poor guy didn’t even transfer,” Dean added, making a “flatlining” motion with his hand. “He just quit. Dropped out of the Fire Academy that same day.”
Not all firefighters were made through Meg’s department, but it was a common route, working as a paramedic while getting put through your paces in the Fire Academy. Dean himself had gone straight to the Academy after getting his EMT certification.
But at Dean’s words, Jack’s eyes widened a fraction. Meg turned to him with an almost feline smile. 
“How was the call?” Benny asked her, speaking of the job they’d just returned from. Meg’s expression dimmed a little, as did Chuck’s as they both sat down at the table.
“Ah, just Henry again,” she said. “Overdosed on his insulin.”
Benny frowned, while Dean shook his head. Jack’s brows furrowed.
“Who’s Henry?” he asked.
Meg sat back in her chair with a subtle sigh. Knowing his work partner’s mood, Chuck answered the young man’s question.
“He’s homeless, lives by the river,” he said. “He’s one of our ‘regulars,’ you could say. When we get the call, usually he’s passed out. Dehydration. But sometimes it’s more serious.”
“You can’t take him to the hospital?” Jack asked in concern.
“Today we did,” Meg said. Her brown eyes met Jack’s, her mouth in a thin line. “But without health insurance, there’s only so much they can do after they get him stable.”
That fell a bit heavily into the room. It wasn’t a pleasant fact, but it was the reality. Jack was learning more and more about that aspect of this job, and learning if he could handle the darker shades of what it could bring.
“Well, breakfast is ready,” he said, bringing a large plate of eggs and toast onto the counter. Dean tossed him an appreciative half-smile and got up from the couch.
“Thanks, kid,” he said, walking over along with everyone else. He took a moment to pat Jack on the shoulder.
“What do you want to do first: run drills, or help me and Gordon wash the truck?” Dean asked.
Jack looked up with a smile. “Can we run drills first?”
Dean nodded, grinning back at him. “Good answer.”
The rest of the Truck and Squad crews ambled in at both the announcement and the smell of food. And before long, the common room was filled with conversation, good-natured teasing, and shitty coffee all around.   
From his vantage point facing the open door to the driveway, Benny caught sight of a young woman heading towards the double doors with a large tupperware bin in hand. Bonnie the receptionist happened to be coming in at the same time. You asked her a question Benny couldn’t quite hear.
“Dean… Oh, you’re looking for Lieutenant Winchester?” Bonnie asked. Her voice tended to carry. “Right in there, hun.”
“Well, that sure is interesting,” Benny murmured with a smile. He glanced over slyly at his friend. “Heads up, brother.”
Dean looked up from his plate of eggs expectantly. Benny gestured over with his eyes, just as you walked into the firehouse, both cautious and unsure of where you were going.
Dean’s brows raised. He found himself setting down his plate and getting up from the couch before he really knew what he was doing.
You looked exactly how he remembered. Though this time, you weren’t coffee stained in your professional blouse and black pencil skirt. His attention drew briefly downwards to your heels, this time solid black (and even taller than the last pair, damn).
He noticed all the same things he had last time: the shade of your hair, pinned up again with a clip as stray pieces framed your face. The way you carried yourself when you finally saw him, straightening with a subtle confidence in your shoulders, even though you looked a bit nervous. And the pretty curve of your lips when your eyes found his.
“Hey, there,” Dean said. He gave you one of his trademark smiles. “Good to see you again.”
“Uh, hi,” you said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I guess I don’t have to ask if you remember me.”
Dean nodded. “‘Course I do. What can I do for you?”
Your face seemed to freeze up a bit as you looked up at him.
“Oh, um, nothing really. I just wanted to say thank you, again,” you said. And you glanced past him, where the rest of the firehouse members were discreetly watching. “All of you, actually. And my friend told me that firefighters really like food…but, I mean, doesn’t everyone?”
You laughed a little, in a nervous way that made Dean struggle not to smile too much.
“Anyway, I like to bake,” you twittered on, “and I had some time this week after…well, you know what happened. So…I brought this!”
You raised up your tupperware with a smile.
And you were damn adorable, Dean thought. His own smile deepened as he glanced down at the offering, then at you. He took the container and opened the lid, and was honestly surprised at what he saw.
He could’ve sworn these were Bonafede, just-poured-out-of-the-box Girl Scout cookies. Dozens of them. He saw shortbreads (complete with the little wavy lines), Samoa cookies with the coconut flakes, and even what looked like chocolate covered Thin Mints. They also smelled delicious.
“Wow. Thanks, sweetheart,” he said, with genuine warmth. “I’m pretty sure the guys are gonna tear these apart the second I put ‘em down.”
Your face brightened, and Dean noticed how it reached your eyes with a bit of a blush.
“Well, I hope you guys enjoy,” you said. Your hands fiddled with your purse next.
“Heading off to work now?” he asked.
“Yep,” you nodded, with a certain glint in your eye. “I plan on taking the stairs this time.”
Dean raised a brow. “All 22 floors?”
“Gotta get my steps in somehow,” you joked. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to become a repeat offender, make you guys come all the way back across town again.”
“Aw, I wouldn’t mind,” he said, meeting your eyes. And he found that he meant it. In fact, he didn’t think he’d mind if your building’s elevator broke down every damn week.
Your expression shifted towards amusement. “Well, you must be very dedicated to your job.”
“Protect and serve,” Dean teased back. “That’s our motto, you know.”
“Isn’t that for police officers?” you quipped.
He chuckled. “Hey, if the shoe fits.”
“Well…” you considered that with a tilt of your head, more seriously than he expected you to. You met him with a more earnest gaze. “I think it does.”
Right then, Dean had a feeling, deep in his gut, that he needed to know you. He had half a mind to heed his instincts, to take advantage of the signals he thought you were sending him, and ask if he could take you out sometime.
But it was unprofessional here at the firehouse (not that that had stopped him before). He’d been making efforts to curb that kind of behavior for the past few months.
He also remembered the 30 floors of your massive, fancy office building. He considered the price tags that probably came with the admittedly sexy, high-powered corporate look you had going on. Those were probably a lot more zeros than he was used to seeing on his paycheck.
So for once, he didn’t pull the trigger.
“Well, thanks. I really do appreciate that,” Dean replied. His smile then was more sincere, if also more professional. He gestured at the container in his hand. “And on behalf of all the guys, thanks for this too.”
“You’re welcome,” you replied. “I have to go, but…thanks again, Lieutenant Winchester.”
“Ah,” he shook his head, “just call me Dean.”
You agreed by smiling, just a little bit more.
“Dean.”
He nodded back, sending you off with a smile of his own. He forced himself to taper it down after you left, and he had to turn around to meet his friends. Their grins reminded him of piranhas.
“All right. Out with it, you freakin’ jackals.” He waved his free hand in a “bring it on” gesture.
Meg was the first one to burst out laughing. It spearheaded the rest of them, whooping and catcalling and generally being menaces. Even Jack was grinning at his lieutenant’s expense.
Meg got up from her seat and bumped Dean’s shoulder on her way to the kitchen, where she dumped her dishes.
“Thanks again, Lieutenant Winchester,” she mocked in a saccharine sweet voice. Then she lowered it into an exaggerated mimic of his deeper one, “Call me Dean, baby girl. Fucking priceless. You should get your own Hallmark movie.”
Dean rolled his eyes. He’d been prepared for this, but his face was still getting warm.
“Shut up, Meg,” he tossed back. They all had an ongoing Family Guy joke that never failed to make their PIC narrow her eyes. And she did so now, giving him a fake grimace as she left the kitchen.
“All right, kiddos. If you need me, don’t,” she said. “Chuck! Let’s sort the ambo’s inventory.”
“Got it,” her partner nodded. He too got up and placed his dishes in the sink before he took off after Meg.
This left Dean with the rest of the guys, who still gave him knowing smiles as he set your bin of cookies down on the table. He blew out a breath before he returned to the couch and sat down heavily across from Benny and Gordon.
“I never thought I’d see the day that Dean Winchester bitched out,” Gordon remarked.
Once again, Dean rolled his eyes.
“Truly incredible,” Benny added. He shook his head when Dean just crossed his arms. “She was eying you like a pork cutlet, and you just let her walk outta here.”
“We’re in the house, guys. What was I supposed to do?” Dean groused.
Benny and Gordon looked at him like he’d just denounced Led Zeppelin (his favorite band of all time). 
“Get her goddamn number, Winchester,” said Gordon. The man’s lips curved. “Or at least, introduce her to a brother.”
Dean shot him a glance. Gordon Walker was damn good at driving the truck, but he was also known for being a hunter of the ladies himself.   
“She seemed nice,” Jack put his two cents in with a smile. He was standing behind the couch, leaning his elbows on it. Gordon scoffed, nodding his agreement.
“Yeah, with a fat ass too,” he said, sipping his tea. 
Benny reached over and hit his shoulder to shut him up. 
“That’s a lady, Gordon,” he said. Though a suspect smile graced his lips as he glanced at Dean. “A lady with a nice ass.” 
Dean shook his head, but he couldn’t disagree. The first time he met you, he’d been impressed by the way you stood your ground with your asshole boss. Dean thought you were going to chuck that lethal looking heel at the guy. But behind that steely exterior was a kind little softie.
Today, he got your sweet side. It was equal parts sexy and adorable. 
And damn if you didn’t have a nice ass, nice curves, and a nice mouth. 
But your eyes, he thought. Those were nothing short of beautiful. 
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About twenty minutes across town, an apartment building was swarmed by police cars. One unit in particular was sealed off with yellow caution tape as a team of officers drifted in and out. 
What a fucked way to die.
Detective John Winchester observed the unnatural angle that the victim—Jerry Stillwell, a certified public accountant—had his throat cut with a jagged weapon.
It hadn’t been clean in the least. And he’d bled out across his work desk and a stack of papers, as well as his desktop computer. He was 45, unmarried, and murdered in his own home in the middle of a Friday afternoon.
The computer wouldn’t turn on, and not because of the blood. It had been wiped with magnetized technology, most likely by the intruder. Though there was no sign of forced entry, according to John’s partner. The murder weapon was missing as well, though it looked like a knife wound.
John leaned over the on-site medical examiner’s shoulder to peer closer at the man’s wounds. Stillwell had most likely been grabbed from behind. So far, the signs pointed to the culprit being someone the victim knew.
They probably took Stillwell by surprise, but he was a large man. If John had to guess, over 250 pounds, unathletic, but still, not easy to overpower. Likely the suspect was a man over 6 feet; strong, and efficient. Though the messiness of the kill made John think this guy took "pride" his work, so to speak.
“Signs of struggle,” said the M.E. “Skin under the fingernails. He fought back, and…huh.”
John’s interest piqued at the man’s shift in tone. “What?”
“Take a look at this.” The M.E. was holding Stillwell’s right hand, palm-up, revealing a small burn on the inside of the wrist. John’s gaze sharpened on the mark.
“Cas, come here,” he said. Across the room, Detective Cas Novak paused in his task of examining the entry points of the apartment to join John at his side. His blue eyes widened a fraction at seeing the burn. It was a symbol of a snake eating its own tail.
“That makes four,” Cas said.
“Yep. We’ve got ourselves a murder cluster,” John said. Cas nodded. He beckoned John to the side, making sure the M.E. was out of earshot before he spoke. “Isn’t it time we brought Sam up to speed on this, at least?”
John’s brows furrowed.
“No,” he said. “Sam’s an ADA. We don’t go to him until we have someone to indict.”
He walked away from Cas, who frowned. John knew damn well that wasn’t what he meant. This was the fourth murder within six months of this nature. The fourth to be branded with the mark of Azazel…a criminal who supposedly disappeared decades ago.
Shortly after November 2, 1983, the day of Mary Winchester’s death.
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Seeing Dean again had gone better than you thought it would. It left you feeling light and downright cheerful when you left the firehouse this morning. Unfortunately, the great start to your morning only crumbled when you reached your office.
Now, even at the end of your day, finally back at home and in the familiarity of your kitchen, the tension headache was back.
“Dre, I’m tired. Can’t we do this another night?” you asked.
Your cell phone was balanced between your ear and your shoulder as you counted out your grandfather’s pills, and placed them in each “Monday through Sunday” box in the blue container.
“No, we absolutely cannot. Because today was horrific,” Andréa said. “For me, because my coworker decided to play hookie on the day our top account needed the mockups of their new website. Never mind that she hadn’t even started.”
Pause for an aggravated breath, through which you frowned in sympathy. She’d told you the entire story over lunch today.
“And for you, because Nick once again displayed why he’s a subhuman neanderthal, in spectacular fashion,” she added.
Your grimace deepened at the reminder.
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Earlier today, just before a sales meeting you were set to lead, you’d turned away from the conference table to set up the projector. Nick was early for once, making it just him and you in the room.
He’d sat back in his chair and uttered a remark that set the hairs on the back of your neck on end.
“I’ll tell you what, babe. You sure know how to wear a skirt.”
Your back straightened, and slowly you turned. Your face was set in stone, save for a solitary raise of your brow.
“Excuse me?”
Nick’s smirk was lazy as he kicked his feet up on the table. His hand held a tumbler of whiskey. You noted the half empty carafe, which just yesterday had been full and untouched.
“Fucking fantastic legs,” he said, vaguely outlining your shape with his hand. “I applaud you. It’s all very…sexy secretary. Oooh! Sexcretary. Fucking brilliant.”
You gaped, trying to put a clamp on the furious spike in your blood.
“Are you drunk?” you asked incredulously.
He raised his fingers an inch or so apart, scrunching up his face and trying not to laugh.
“Actually nah, not at all,” he bluffed. 
He let his hand fall back into his lap. You shook your head and set down your papers in order to cross your arms.
“Good. Then you’ll hear me clearly when I say, I’m filing a formal complaint with Billie in HR,” you said.
“Whaaat? Why?” he complained. You huffed incredulously.
“For your little comments, which are getting more and more heinous. Not to mention your excessive drinking during company hours.”
Nick pursed his lips. “Christ on a stick. Can’t you take a fucking compliment?”
“No,” you deadpanned. “What I refuse to take is any further sexual harassment. This isn’t the first incident I could disclose, but I’m damn sure you’ll want it to be the last.”
He kicked his feet off the table and slowly stood. You didn’t want to be afraid of this sloppy, frat boy drunken attitude, but a tendril of trepidation still laced down your spine as you took a step back.
“You could do that,” he nodded, tilting his head. “Or, I’ll give your Zimmerman account to Josh, along with your commission.”
You frowned, and shock made your entire body tense. 
“You…you can’t do that!” you exclaimed. Your insides fairly shook with frustration tinged with anger. “I’ll sue you.”
“With what money?” Nick scoffed.
Your brows knitted together then. How the hell would he know anything about your finances?
The man noted your reaction with a nod.
“Yeah, I know all about grammy and gramps. Surgeries, funerals, treatments…” he said. He leaned against the table with one hand, and still he fairly loomed over you.
He wasn't as broad as someone like Dean, but he was tall and lean. His dirty blonde hair was swept to the side, his blue eyes bearing down on you.
“I am this company. If you don’t like it, you can get the fuck out, sweetheart,” he said.
His gaze lowered, roaming your glowering face.
“And good luck getting anywhere else without a reference from one of the biggest corporations in Lawrence, Kansas.”
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You sighed. Yeah, you might’ve shed some frankly embarrassing tears in the women’s bathroom after that. You hadn’t even told Andréa the full story, which included the details of his comments, along with his threats.
You didn’t want her to worry. And maybe, more selfishly, you were embarrassed at having to deal with it at all.
Truth be told, you still didn’t know what the hell you were going to do. About Nick, or your job…but somehow, getting drunk at a bar seemed about the last thing you should be doing.
“I need a drink,” Andréa insisted. “Which means you definitely need a drink. And I know exactly where we’re going.”
After a long moment, you leaned your elbows on the kitchen counter and rubbed through the persistent ache in your forehead. Maybe, just this once, you deserved to forget about reality. Just for a little while.
“Fine. Where?” you asked.
“It’s this great bar Meg told me about. The Roadhouse.”
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“Ah, the usual suspects,” Ellen drawled at the men who managed to find seats at her bar, next to the rest of their party. The Roadhouse was packed on a Friday night, but she always had room for these two.
Benny and Dean wore similar tired, but pleasant smiles as they greeted their esteemed barkeep.
“What’s it been, Ellen, a whole shift since I’ve seen your delightful face?” Dean said.
Ellen gave him a mocking smile as she poured him his favorite beer on tap. Dean grinned and clapped his younger brother on the shoulder as he sat down. He and Cas had been waiting for a little while.
…Well, maybe longer than a little.
“Hey, dude,” Dean said. Sam perked up from his second beer with pursed lips.
“You know we’ve been waiting on you for like an hour, right?” he said.
“Aw, don’t get your panties in a twist, Sammy,” Dean teased. He nodded his thanks at Ellen when she set his beer in front of him, and a glass of whiskey for Benny. “We had a last-minute call. Some guy just couldn’t wait to start his Happy Hour. Drove his car into the company fountain.”
Sam’s brows raised incredulously. He looked over at Benny for confirmation, and the other man gave a resigned nod.
“Apparently it set the ducks into a tizzy,” he said. “The guy’s fine. Probably gonna get slapped with a DUI.”
Dean smirked and raised a finger at both Sam and Cas. “Duck Guy’s your problem now.”
Cas shook his head and raised his beer to his lips.
“Not my department.”
“Mine either,” Sam scoffed. Both of them worked in homicide cases, just from the differing sides of law and order. In fact, they worked together more often than Dean and Cas did.
Dean looked over at his friend Cas for a moment. He looked like more of a hot mess than usual, with his tie half undone, and a scruffy half-beard covering his face.
“Geez, man. You look like shit,” Dean remarked. “You and Meg fighting again?”
“No,” Cas replied, his brows furrowing. “…Well, yes. But nothing more than her usual insanity. Something about the cat preferring to sleep next to me than to her.”
“Well, that’s not so bad,” Benny said. “My dog don’t like her either.”
“Maybe they can smell that she’s feral,” Dean quipped. Cas sent him a dry look at that.
“She threatened to move out,” he revealed. “Even packed a bag at 3:00 in the morning. I spent two hours unpacking what she was re-packing, all while we argued in our underwear, not sleeping.”
Sam and Dean shared bemused looks, while Benny shook his head into his whiskey.
“So how’d it end up?” Sam asked. Cas sighed and took another long sip of his beer.
“Like it always ends, Sam,” he said, his lips quirking. “With our neighbors calling the precinct to complain, and me, somehow ending up sleeping on the couch for a crime I didn’t commit. If she wants to blame someone, blame the goddamn cat.”
Dean chortled. He brought his beer to his lips, but couldn’t resist a light jab at his best friend first.
“Dude, I love her like a sister, but your girlfriend’s unhinged,” he said.
Cas could only nod. “Most are, I’ve come to find.”
Sam scoffed and shook his head. “Not mine.”
“Yeah, that’s because Eileen doesn’t have to see you more than two minutes at a time,” Dean teased. He and his brother still shared an apartment, and Sam’s job as an Assistant District Attorney wrought demanding hours.
Sam shot his brother a flat look.
“Oh, I’m not taking that from the serial playboy,” he said.
Dean’s brows knitted together.
“All right, calm down,” he said. “I’m not Hugh Hefner.”
“Mr. Hit and Run,” Cas added, a smirk gracing his features.
“Chief ‘No Daddy Issues,’” Benny tipped in, giving his annoyed, green-eyed friend a sly glance. “With a side helping of the Clap.”
Dean’s lips pressed into a line. He leveled a finger at Benny.
“That girl was clean, okay? False alarm,” Dean said. His gaze raised heavenward as he sipped his beer. Thank Christ for that one. “The rash was just carpet burn.”
Sam shook his head and turned to his brother more seriously.
“Bottom line: until you date a woman for more than two weeks—hell, two days at a time—you don’t get to comment on the happily committed,” he said. 
Dean rolled his eyes. He knew his track record with relationships. As in, he didn’t really have a record…but it wasn’t for lack of trying. At least, not for the past few months.
Sam managed to break Dean out of his thoughts by clearing his throat, pushing his empty bottle across the counter.
“All right, speaking of. I gotta go,” he said.
“Aw, why? We just got here. Let me buy you another,” Dean offered.
Sam shot his brother another knowing look. Dean knew it well; it said, if he’d been here on time, they would’ve shared the first two drinks.
“I’m picking up Eileen,” Sam said, grabbing his blazer and fixing the collar when he put it on. “There’s this Latin club she wants to go to.”
Dean raised incredulous brows.
“My brother’s going salsa dancing?”
Sam sighed in exasperation, despite his smile. “Bye, Dean.”
He shot his other two friends a nod.
“See you guys.”
Cas and Benny both saw him off with a subtle raise of their drinks, while Dean just shook his head.
“All right, Samantha,” he called out. Sam didn’t bother to turn around as he raised up a choice finger behind him.
Dean snorted into his drink. “Very mature.”
Benny and Cas shared a wry look. They were relieved when Ellen’s daughter Jo came by, picking up the slack for her mom, who was serving a rowdy group of college kids at a nearby table.
“Hey, guys. Need another round?” Jo asked. She gave them all a familiar smile, but her eyes lingered on Dean. He gave her a more reserved smile back.
“Hey, Jo,” he nodded. “I uh…actually think I’m good right now.”
“Me too,” Cas said. He even stood up and grabbed his trenchcoat in similar fashion as Sam had. The two had paid for their beers before Benny and Dean even got there.
“Aw, not you too,” Dean groused.
“If I don’t make dinner, we run the risk of the apartment going up in flames,” Cas informed him. Dean could only assume he was talking about Meg. “Despite working with the Fire Department for ten years, the woman can’t manage to boil an egg without supervision.”
Jo raised a brow, but her smile was bemused as she turned to Benny. “Anything for you?”
“Nah, darlin’. I’m good,” he said. But sensing the unspoken request in her eyes when she glanced at Dean, Benny straightened and raised from his seat. “But I’ll be back. Need’a hit the head.”
Dean internally sighed as Benny left him alone at the bar. Or, well, relatively alone. Jo lingered in front of him to wash and dry out a few glasses. The air between them was stiff, and a little awkward.
Dean’s thoughts shifted back to his brother then; while he still couldn’t believe Eileen had wrangled his gangly Sasquatch of a brother into going dancing, Dean was happy for him. Truly and sincerely. Sam deserved having someone who softened him, made him break away from his endless cases and have some fun.
Dean could also admit, if only to himself, that he was maybe a little jealous. Sam had something good with his girl. Something real.
Dean had carpet burn.
“So, how’s studying going?” he asked Jo. He couldn’t stand awkward silences. “Still planning on giving your mom a heart attack when you get into the Police Academy?”
Jo’s blue eyes flicked up to his. She brushed a coil of blond hair behind her ear after she finished drying a glass, and a smile raised the corner of her lips.
“Wouldn’t be the first time I gave her something to yell about,” she quipped. “But since you asked…my exam is in three months.”
“Good,” Dean nodded. “You’ve got time. Study your ass off. Keep up the conditioning routine I gave you, and you’ll be set. Just don’t forget the strength training. Very important.”
“I got it,” she said, this time with a brighter smile. “Some old firefighter gave me some pointers.”
Dean tilted his beer at her accusingly.
“Hey, don’t pin that old shit on me yet. Benny’s got more mileage than I do…”
He considered her then, after briefly looking down at the counter.
“What?” she said.
He kept his lips tight. “Nothin’.”
“No, Dean. What?” Jo pressed. “You want to say something. Say it.”
He blew out a breath and shook his head.  
“Ellen’s not the only one who’s gonna worry about you on the job, that’s all,” he said. Jo flickered at a rueful frown.
“That’s ironic,��� she said. “I can handle myself, Dean. Something you so often seem to forget.”
“That’s not fair, and you know it,” he shot back. His hand tightened around his beer.
Jo’s face fell into irritation, mostly to cover up the hurt he saw buried deep behind her eyes. She gave him some relief by glancing away from him.
“And this is why we didn’t work out,” she muttered. Sighing through her nose, her eyes met his again. “You know what I hate, more than anything? People worrying.”
Dean carded his fingers through his hair, his brows knitting together in aggravation.
“Yeah, well, maybe they have good reason to,” he said. He could’ve predicted the way she tightened up. “And if I remember right, you did your fair share of hand-wringing the next time I responded to a fire on the job.”
He knew it was a low blow. But his point was made, and he fully expected the anger in Jo’s tight frown. They’d dated for a few weeks, mostly in secret.
That had been enough for Ellen to blow her top. Not because she had anything against Dean…just his job: at the very same firehouse her late husband had once served.
So Dean had backed off. He’d ultimately felt he had to end it. And clearly, Jo still resented him for it.
Slowly, however, the fire in her eyes dimmed. Her finger tapped on her side of the bar counter.
“You think I don’t worry anymore just because we’re not together?” she asked him. 
Dean didn’t have a good answer for her. So his gaze fell to his nearly empty beer.
But he was even more relieved when Benny finally got back from the bathroom, or wherever he’d fucked off to for the past few minutes.
He did seem to know that he was interrupting a rather tense moment. Seeing as neither Dean nor Jo wanted to break the silence, Benny supposed it fell on him.
He reclaimed his seat and raised a smile up at Jo.
“I think I’m ready for the next round,” he said, glancing at Dean’s soured mood. “Two whiskeys, please, Joanna.”
Jo treated Benny with a half-smile. He was the only one besides her mother who called her Joanna (and got away with it). After one last look at Dean, she reached over for the Jim Beam.
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You met Andréa at the bar in your own car, just in case you needed to dip out early to check on Grandpa George. He was happy to see you going out.
“You’re pretty as a doll, sweetheart,” he’d said, patting your cheek after you kissed his goodbye.
The thought made you smile, even though you thought you were dressed casually in your dark wash jeans and blouse. When Andréa met you outside the bar, she nodded in approval.
“Good. I like the hint of sexy,” she said, plucking at the sweetheart neckline of your top. You rolled your eyes and tried to cover up the cleavage a little, but she batted at your hand.
“No, no. Leave your professionalism at work,” she said. “Tonight, you’re going to relax and have some fun.”
It was hard to think about loosening up when you were literally getting belittled and threatened at work…but you supposed she had a point. You always had to be put together. You had to be sharp, because this world wouldn’t hand you anything on a silver platter.
And not to mention, you couldn’t just think about yourself. You also had to provide and take care of your grandfather too. He was the only family you had left, and you were it for him too…
But you took in a slow, deep breath. Tonight, you could have a couple of drinks with your friend. You could just be yourself, with no responsibilities other than not getting too drunk to drive yourself home later.
So with a sigh, you smiled and linked your arm with Andréa as you headed inside the Roadhouse.
It looked kind of divey from the outside, a worn-looking brown building with a faded red sign. But inside it was all dark wood and leather barstools and rows of soft lighting overhead.
There were records displayed on the wall; Prince’s Purple Rain, the Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper, and David Bowie's Ziggy Stardust, among others. Boston’s “More Than a Feeling” played on the wall speakers.
There were several tables, both high top and regular four-seaters, as well as a long bar that spanned the far wall, where rows and rows of liquor were showcased. You followed Andréa’s lead to the bar, where you took a seat at the far end and tried to feel like you belonged here. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d gone out to a place like this.
“This is nice,” she leaned over into your ear to say. “Next time my cousin should meet us here. She’s a handful, but I think you’d like her.”
You agreed with a smile. “If she’s anything like you, I think I’m well trained to handle your brand of insanity.”
Andréa leveled you with a playfully mocking look.
“Ah, you’ve got jokes tonight. Okay.” She waved over the blonde bartender.
“Hi, ladies,” she greeted. “I’m Jo. What’re we starting off with tonight?”
Before you could order for yourself, Andréa grabbed your arm and spoke over you.
“Do you have absinthe?” she asked.
Your eyes widened. “What?! I’m not drinking that—”
“Sure do,” Jo replied in amusement.
“Great,” said Andréa. You didn’t like her sly grin. “She’ll have an Aunt Roberta. I’ll have a vodka cranberry.”
“What the hell is an Aunt Roberta?” you asked.
Jo listed the ingredients on her fingers. “A nice molotov of brandy, vodka, gin, blackberry liqueur, and of course, absinthe.”
Jesus Christ. You shot Andréa a glare, even though you were trying to dim your smile.
“Are you trying to chill me out or fucking end me?” you asked.
Andréa smirked. “Whatever it takes.”
You rolled your eyes, but you nodded your agreement. Jo’s smile remained as she went to prepare your drinks. Meanwhile, your eyes wandered as you once again took in your surroundings.
Really is a cool place, you thought. And it was busy without being overbearingly crowded. There were even a few seats between you and the rest of the patrons at the bar. Your gaze drew a path onwards, eventually reaching the other end of the bar.
There you caught sight of red flannel over a black undershirt, familiar broad shoulders, and an even more familiar face. Your eyes widened a fraction as his met yours, gleaming with recognition…and interest.
That slow smile of his was familiar too. It made a lance of heat run down your spine. You gripped the counter, mostly to steady yourself as you let out a breath.
Lieutenant Winchester.
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AN: *rubs hands together* It begins. 😏
Lol how'd you like Dean's little moment with the reader at the firehouse? Plus the introduction of the rest of our cast!
(And a possible serial killer on the loose?) Though sorry about Nick. He's a douchecanoe.
Next Time:
Anticipation and nerves coiled together in your lower belly. You turned to your friend, who was already sipping at her vodka cranberry.
“Dre, help me,” you pleaded.
Andréa discreetly followed the path of your gaze, and her brows raised. A smirk curved her lips.
“Oh, babe. You need to help yourself,” she replied.
“I haven’t done that in a while,” you admitted. Your dating life had been sorely lacking, between the demands of your job and taking care of things at home. “I’m gonna say something demented.”
Andréa huffed in amusement.
“So? That’s half the fun,” she said.
Keep Reading: PART 3
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Dean Winchester Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Series Tag List (Part 1):
@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91
@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19
@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420
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616 notes · View notes
tinfairies · 11 months
Note
Could i request Billy Lenz with a reader from the sorority house who's something like his favourite, they have kinda of an estabilished thing, when suddenly reader has to go on an import trip, leaving Billy needy in the house, how would be their sex when they come back?
Never Leave Again
B.L.
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He was mad at first. What do you mean you have a family emergency? You can't leave him!
Your poor sorority sisters were tormented the entire weekend. Friday to Monday evening.
Billy took to stealing little things in your room, humping and cumming all over your pillows.
Calling the other girls and threatening to rape and kill them. It's as if it was back to square one.
You'd gotten him to calm down over the months, but now he's reset.
When you return, he's on you immediately. As soon as you step in the door, the phone is ringing.
Of course your sorority sisters beg you to pick up, rambling about how horrible it's been the past few days.
You pick up the phone and immediately hear Billy's raspy voice.
"Dirty slut ran off to fuck someone else huh? Needed to get your filthy cunt pounded by another disgusting piggy?"
You just roll your eyes and smile.
"No, I need to get my filthy cunt pounded by you. That's why I came back. It's all you're good for."
Billy growls through the phone and it abruptly hangs up.
You head upstairs to unpack, looking at the state of your bed. Absolutely disgusting, days worth of jizz paints your pillow cases.
"You filthy whore. I should make you clean this with your tongue!" you yell out, knowing he'll hear you.
Before you could turn around, rough hands were pushing you down, your face shoved into the sticky wet pillow.
"Billy!" you squeal out and start to struggle.
"Shut up! Filthy piggy! This cunt is mine! My pussy, all for Billy!"
He's tearing away your clothes, nails scratching at your skin as he rips the fabric. One of his hands finds your hair, gripping the strands like a vice.
He lifts your legs so you're on your knees. Face down, ass up, completely exposed to him.
His hand comes down on your ass, the sharp pain making you cry out. Your ass hole tightens as he continues his assault.
Soon he's spitting on your cunt and shoving his fat cock into you.
The sudden intrusion burns like a bitch, but you mold to his dick easily and subsides.
Billy's pounding into you, balls hitting your clit, fingers digging into your hip. Three days of pent up anger, frustration a lust are being released into you.
The tip of his cock slams against your cervix, threaten to break into your womb.
He finishes quickly, hot cum spurting into your cunt. Your greedy walls milk him dry, apparently having missed his company.
You'd make a mental note to leave more often, but you fear he'd kill your sorority sisters just to bring you back.
876 notes · View notes
gav-san · 7 months
Text
Cursed | Sukuna x reader
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Pairing: Ryomen Sukuna / Fem Reader
Length: One-Shot
Summary: The greatest punishment in this life wasn't your brother Gojo Satoru embarrassing you into leaving Sorcery.
It was what happened when he was gone.
Warnings: Blood, Gore, Sexual Violence, Inferred Violence, Inferred Assault
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You remember the day Gojo told you that you would never make it as a sorcerer.
The day you graduated from Jujutsu High School your arrogant older brother wrapped a hand over your shoulder and told you that you had less talent than the first years, and he wouldn’t allow you to be anything more than a third-grade sorcerer.
Of course, he did it at the podium, in front of everyone there.
You had ripped off the slim golden necklace he and Geto had bought you, but you could never bear to trash it entirely. 
That was also the day you refused to speak to him again. But you soon found he was good as his word, and any attempt to do any sorcery was blocked at every angle. After all, who would openly disagree with the master of the Six Eyes and Infinity?
You were more or less exiled from the entire society of arrogant jujitsu sorcerers, forced to go to the nearby college and turn into a glorified secretary for the high school. He tried to rebuild your relationship, but it was never the same.
It took you years to understand why he would hurt his only sibling that deeply. It wasn’t until he was dead that you understood how much he was willing to sacrifice for your well-being.
You were the number one target of all Satoru Gojo’s enemies, and revenge came swiftly.
The clinking of the chains could almost sound like that piece of jewelry, lost in the rubble of your apartment if you imagined hard enough.
And all you had was time to try and imagine that you were anywhere but here, locked to the throne at the feet of the King of Curses. 
You could hardly bear to watch as people were brought in, some more chained than you, dangerous perhaps. You wondered if their collars had been crafted to deaden cursed energy as yours had. Not that Sukuna thought you were any threat, but he disliked ‘swatting at flies’.
When you had first been captured, after everything had gone to hell, you had hoped that there was someone, anyone, who had the power and strength to end Sukuna, but nothing came close to his power.
Even Gojo Satoru had fallen, taking hope with him.
Now Men, Women, and children, all met the same fate if they did not kneel and give reverence to the great Ryomen Sukuna. 
And even that was not always enough.
Blood spattered the marble floors of the shrine, and you swear that over time it’s taken on a pink hue. The room fills with lesser curses who clean the blood with their grotesque mouths, and Urame carts away choice bits for Sukuna's later pleasure.
You screwed your mouth shut as people cried to you, mistaking your position as something other than a slave for Sukuna to torture.
As the last of the Gojo line, you weren't above holding you responsible for a century-long grudge. Any pleading from your lips only made his rampage worse.
Any attempt to flee into your head was met with a violent tug on your throat.
There was no turning away, not when your master held the deceptively delicate chain around your neck, yanking whenever he thought you weren’t paying enough attention.
He loved to see you cry in pain, and you hadn’t the ability to stop, especially for those young ones who were cut down.
And it was almost certain that after witnessing another moment of terrible brutality you’d somehow forget your head, turning upon him and glaring like a feral animal, yanking the chain away so you could hurt him, just once.
But you would only be met with the face of the wolf.
His teeth clenched in a wide smile, he’d return a smirk so vile, that he specifically reserved for the moments you spit venom. He loved to see you struggle, but trying to bite back always ended poorly. 
Ryomen Sukuna was not a kind master.
And though he certainly thought of you like a pet, he wasn’t below forcing your head under his foot, smushing your entire face in the remains of corpses. If you dared throw up, you still stayed and were unable to leave until you wiped it up with your ragged robes that had gone thin from wear.
But that was better than his other punishment, on days where you felt a terrifying hardness as Sukuna held your face between his legs, using a single finger to paint fresh blood, using you as a macabre canvas as he painted.
Those days he would have Urame fetch a mirror, and both would cackle as they examined his work. Often, it was lewd words and signs, but other times it was as if he was painting his marks on you.
Bastard.
After a long, cruel day, you dared to critique his work, sneering at his lack of finesse.
With a snap of his fingers, he had Urame strap you down, leering over you as he assembled his petty revenge.
A curse user was summoned, bringing along the tools of his trade; a short bamboo pole with a needle attached and a jar of thick onyx ink.
If that hadn’t been enough, Sukuna cut his wrist, pouring black blood to mix into the lot.
He instructed the curse user to tattoo you exactly like him, with no imperfections else his head be separated from his body.
You endured unbearable pain for nearly a week, stripped down under the gaze of Sukuna, a reminder to watch your tongue. And after, when the tattoos were done, he commemorated it with a new kimono and a portrait of you at his feet. A wretched ugly thing, as you now were.
He loved it, and let the painter live.
The recovery took twice as long, as your master hardly let you rest, or even leave his side. And as the days passed, you felt less and less like a human. 
Forced to accompany him almost daily, you had an unfortunate insight into the casual cruelty of the Cursed King who knew nothing of kindness. 
You eat less, hardly sleep and the whole blood-shed thing was sort of muffled, probably thanks to the sheer amount witnessed. You figure terror is the only thing keeping you alive.
Day in and out you followed the creature, just waiting for the day he tires of you. 
And that day doesn’t come.
It’s still a surprise that you’re alive, you muse too often, laying on a cushion at the entrance to his rooms. Though he did take off your left arm the day he took you, he claimed it was an accident, and fixed it. 
You’d rather that happen again than to be forced to enter his rooms.
At least your position at his shrine was more or less a pet, or when he was gone, Urame’s.
And despite your treatment, the concubines were in a far worse condition. The way Sukuna treated other women was abhorrent. Some days, bored, would reap the land looking for fresh, beautiful blood, and when he found some, he’d bring them back. Some girls even offered up to him, in hopes he’d show mercy.
Wide-eyed women, much like yourself, you realized as you watched them enter one day. But you felt these were much prettier, much more docile than you. Some even fawned over him, though their manners probably rang as fake as your docility. Were they trying to secure a safe place by him, or just trying not to be killed was hard to say. You didn’t blame either. Humanity was no longer civil.
It didn’t matter. They all get dragged into that black hole of his room, sometimes four at a time, and their screaming often lasts for hours. 
Women who entered his rooms never exited alive, thankfully Urame thought your time could be much better spent working than sitting at the door, listening in.
Yeah, it was much preferable to be a tortured slave to Sukuna than to be seen as a woman.
“You’ve been quiet this last week, pet.” Sharp nails dig into your head, turning you to look at the man sitting on the throne above. “Perhaps you no longer find my pastimes so alarming.”
Meaning, his pastime of killing and eating humans.
Something shared by the court of curses below him, warily watching for what next he commands and desires. 
Unfortunately, that was you. You despised the looks raked over your chained form, the greedy mouths that drooled, awaiting the day the master turned tired of the remaining Gojo, and hoped to have their turn for revenge.
If they couldn’t have Satoru Gojo, you’d do.
“Apologies… master.” You said, tension forming at the back of your neck as he tugged harshly on your head. Even so, your words remained smooth. “I find it hard to do anything but serve with your foot on my back.”
His dark chuckle was an answer in itself. 
“Such a mouth, even when disguising your words so pretty.” Sukuna let go of your hair, amused enough today to let your words pass. You drop your head, but only enough to quell the pain. “It was such a shame for your kin to have died so easily, but it seems my desire for entertainment continues to be fulfilled by you.”
You hated him so much.
You clench your mouth, but the insult escapes before you can stop it.
“Bastard.”
You go stiff, but Sukuna merely pauses.
“Oh?” A single finger of his lifts your chin up again, before moving to your lips. And without warning, he pushes it inside your mouth. 
“I thought I may torture you for a while, then be rid of you, but…” 
You will yourself not to bite down on his finger, as he probably wanted an excuse to bite you back. But you don’t, and after a moment he pops it out with a small sound before another hand grabs your shoulder.
“Leave.” 
For a moment you think he’s speaking to you, but the tension in your throat holds, and you see him looking at everyone else.
“My lord?” You question but his eyes flash down in warning.
All the curses and curse-users who attend minor tasks in the shrine are gone in moments. Urame is the last, shitting the door and ensuring the desired privacy, which means, something horrible is about to happen.
The moment the ornate handle clicks, Sukuna picks you up with a third hand. You can’t help but exhale as he sets you down on his knee. The finger that had been in your mouth returns, and you gag as this time it delves in, choking you.
“Not a very good reflex, but it can be worked on,” Sukuna says with an almost bored drawl, tugging his finger back out, and you wonder if he just sent everyone out because he wanted to do just that. 
You cough, hands rising to hold your face, and don’t ask. 
Sukuna laughs, clearly happy with annoying you, like a child. You so badly want to lash out but the fear of retaliation is far more effective than any shackle. 
He has killed villages for less.
“See, this is why I didn’t kill you when I got rid of the rest of the scum!” He jokes, tilting his head to gaze with all four of his penetrating red eyes. “Such pleasing reactions!” 
Friends, you think darkly. Those scum were your friends who were more like family. Gojo, Nanami, Geto, Nobara, Yuuta, Yuuji and so many others. 
Tears fill your eyes as a soft voice seems to be at the back of your mind.
Megumi. 
Though Sukuna was fully transformed, pain filled you thinking that Megumi might be in that monstrous body, trapped and unable to escape.
His knee shifts up, causing a terrible feeling of butterflies and cockroaches to churn in your stomach from the feel. The move was far too personal, and you tried to shift so he wasn’t pressed so intimately against your rear.
Even trying to fall off would be preferable. But your throat is raised, thanks to the gold chain in Sukuna’s hand that pulls up as he twists.
The benefit of having four arms is he can manhandle you as he pleases.
His thick hand raised your chin and refused to let you turn an inch as you gazed hatefully into his eyes
“What a beautiful sight. You know, from the first moment I saw you, I knew you were special.” Another hand moves to pull back some stray hair behind your ear. 
“I hate you.”
Your hands shake, clenched in fists. 
“I know.” He says with a smirk. “You know why I keep you around, pet?”
You have nothing to say and don’t even care to know. But that won’t stop him.
He strokes your face, his thumb holding you in a position others might think lovers would use.
“The first time I gazed upon you, I felt a most unique heat in my chest that has persisted till this day. Love, perhaps.” He mocks.
“Disgusting.” You spit out, but he doesn’t pause.
“From the moment we crossed paths your fate was set, but only recently have I understood the extent of what you mean to me.” Sukuna seems to be smug, revealing this, and you think he’s probably just messing with your head again. 
The grip on your chin is starting to hurt.
Your chin shakes, and you grab the giant hand holding your face, digging in your fingers. You are certain he is going to kill you now. But you won’t cry or beg for mercy.
No, as a Gojo you would face down death and spit in his face.
So you do, hitting Sukuna right under his lower left eye.
“Go to hell, monster.” You growled, despite feeling the creak of bones in your face. 
And for a moment the world is deathly quiet.
Until Sukuna throws back his head, startling you with a loud howl as he releases your face to laugh. In pain and confusion, you are tongue-tied as he tilts his head, the look on his face almost fond.
“I could kill you, but I have a better plan. I think you would make a very interesting wife.”
You would have fallen off his leg had he not quickly placed a palm on the small of your back.
“I despise you.” You reply, seeing as there isn’t anything else to say. But Sukuna doesn’t get mad at you for speaking out. Instead, he grins, which is much worse. “I’ll never be yours.”
But his mouth grows wide, and he tugs you forward, pushing you against his chest. Your lack of elegant words doesn’t bother Sukuna.
“Not as a human. I recently acquired a certain cursed spirit on my travels, and by imbuing you with her powers, your transformation should be complete. Rika would suit you well. You’re already halfway there, thanks to those marks suing my blood.”
You had been eating less, not hardly sleeping and the whole blood-shed thing was sort of muffled…
You gape, twisting to try and escape or even to move enough to allow your brain to function.
What?
He gives you a long look that you don’t know how to interpret. “You've lost enough of that wretched humanity that your body won’t break when you bear my children.”
You straighten, horrified, reeling back, but stopped. 
Oh gods, there wasn’t anything more ridiculous than Sukuna talking about reproducing with you? 
“No-“ He waves off your rejection, like a wisp of wind. You don’t remember starting to shake so hard, but it seems like you can see yourself from above, trembling a leaf in a storm.
“Of course, pet. You didn’t think I’d keep a stupid thing like you around to look nice? I even practiced on those pathetic humans.” 
You dig your fingers into his chest, ripping it open with fury alone. 
“I’ll kill you.” You say, “I’ll kill myself-“
Sukuna chuckles as blood pours from his chest, but the wound heals faster than you can dig. Sukuna's hand shoves your head into his blood, and iron fills your mouth.
“Heh, brat. Look at you, a Gojo doomed to be the queen of curses. A fitting end to that cursed line.”
“Someday, the chance will come, and one day, I’ll kill you.” You swear, teeth dripping in red. 
“Women like you never leave their brats, so I’ll breed you till you have no escape,” Sukuna says, bending down and giving a soft kiss to your painted lips. 
As he pulls away, his tongue licks away the blood. “Of course, if you try, I’ll kill them and breed you again. Isn’t that what husbands do?”
406 notes · View notes