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another-lost-mc · 10 months

Note

i just read someone’s idea of reader drinking some lactating potion on accident and was wondering how the brothers would help the reader 😭 THOUGHTS? ��

LEVIATHAN, ASMODEUS, BEELZEBUB & BELPHEGOR 2.4k words | NSFW | gn!Reader Content warnings: due to magical mishaps, Reader has larger, lactating breasts that are vaguely described; lactation kink, breast/nipple play, breast massaging/fondling, titty fucking, fingering, oral sex. More in the Lactation Kink series: Mammon | Solomon | Lucifer, Satan, Diavolo & Barbatos, Simeon, Karasu

LEVIATHAN

Levi invites you to his room as a way to distract you. He tries not to stare at the noticeable swell of your chest as you walk, larger and bouncier than usual.

By the time you both walk to his room, your eyes are welling up and you cross your arms try to hide the fresh wet spots staining your shirt. He rummages through his closet and hands you a black sweater—it’ll hide new stains easier, and it’s loose enough that you don’t feel too exposed.

He suggests playing one of your favorite games, but after a couple rounds he can tell it’s not helping like he hoped it would. You make small noises of discomfort on the sofa beside him, and when the round is over, you pull the damp fabric away from your sticky skin with a frustrated curse under your breath.

The hem of his sweater rides up your belly when you stretch your arms above your head to try and relieve some of the tension in your shoulders; Levi swallows around the lump in his throat when the innocent gesture sends his mind reeling.

It’s hard not to stare at the thin stream of milky fluid running down your chest before it drips onto your thighs or soaks into the waistband of your pants. It’s hard not to think about his collection of porn and hentai that this reminds him of, and how his cock twitches in his pants when he licks his lips without even realizing it. It’s hard not to imagine what your chest would feel like in his hands, or what the fluid clinging to your nipples would taste like if he sucked one into his mouth.

You reach for his hand and pull him off the couch when you head towards his tub to rest. He turns around to give you a bit of privacy while you change into a clean shirt to sleep in. The discarded sweater you give back to him is warm and a little damp and sticky in his hands, but it still smells like you. It’s nearly impossible to resist the urge to bury his nose in it and inhale a whiff of your scent into his lungs. He sets it in his laundry hamper instead—on top, so it's easy for him to find later when you leave—and gently settles into his tub behind you.

You’re already snoring lightly, and he shoves a body pillow behind you so his persistent erection won’t rub against your back and wake you. He risks putting an arm around you, and his stomach flips when you relax under his touch.

You woke up this morning with heavy, leaking breasts after eating whatever it was that Solomon snuck onto your dinner plate last night. None of them knew what to say when you stumbled into the dining room, the buttons of your shirt strained by your larger chest and wet spots blooming around your nipples. Satan suggested finding ways to relieve the swelling—massages might help, he added with a blush.

Levi thinks he might mention it to you again when you wake up, if you’re still swollen and uncomfortable. Maybe if he’s lucky, you’ll let him help.

ASMODEUS

Asmo’s invitation to spend the day with him begins in his large soaker tub. The rivulets of sudsy bathwater that run over your skin mask the milky stream leaking from your nipples; they mix together and leave a soapy, creamy film on the water’s surface.

He stands behinds you and hums while he washes you gently with a loofah. He’s gotten little peeks of your naked chest already, but he doesn’t stare no matter how much he wants to; he wants you to relax. His priority right now is simply to pamper you, to try and wash away the unfamiliar lactonic smell that clings to your skin. He slowly replaces it with a blend of subtle rose and herbs—something a bit stronger, something that will hopefully remind you of him later on.

He helps you out of the tub after and begins patting your skin with a fluffy towel to dry you off. He can’t help the way his heart sings that you trust him enough to let him do this for you. He’s so careful when he brushes the towel against your chest, and he doesn’t draw attention to your nipples that leak more pearly liquid no matter how gentle he is when he brushes over them. Your breasts are noticeably heavier and he can tell by your hunched shoulders that their unusual weight is uncomfortable for you.

Asmo leads you to his bed and lays you back gently against the plush blankets. There’s a loose robe tied around his waist. He doesn’t bother offering you one; you won’t need it for very long even if he did. He straddles your hips and lowers his weight gently on your lower belly; his hands hover over your breasts as he explains what he wants to do next to help you.

“Won’t it make a mess? Your nice sheets…”

But he clicks his tongue and grins at you and your sweet but very misplaced concern. “They can be washed. Let me take care of you, hmm?”

He starts massaging lightly with the pad of his fingertips, moving his hands in slow circles around your breasts first. He watches your expression carefully and when you settle deeper into the mattress, he starts adding a tiny bit more pressure, creeping a touch closer to your nipples. You wince and turn your head with a whimper as the massage coaxes a steady stream of fluid to leak out and trail over the sides of your chest and onto the bedding underneath you. You knew this would happen, but your face still flares as embarrassment ripples through you.

He hushes you softly, eyes glancing back and forth between your face and your leaking breasts. “It’s going to help with the swelling. You’re doing so well. Does it feel better?”

You jerk your head with a nod against his pillow and exhale a shaky breath. “It feels—it feels okay. You can keep going.”

He wanted to relieve the pressure building in your chest, but his mind wanders to other things he’d like to do instead. He tweaks one of your nipples lightly, rolling it gently between his thumb and forefinger, and the gasp that escapes your lips sounds surprised, almost pleased. He brings his hand to his mouth, and you turn your head and watch his tongue lap up the dribble of fluid running down his finger. Your hips squirm underneath him but it only teases him more; his cock grows heavy and it’s leaking slightly where it bobs against your belly with each shaky breath you take.

He shuffles forward on his knees, squeezing your breasts lightly as he rests his cock in the valley between them. “Can I?”

You nod and stare as he presses your breasts together, creating a soft, pillowy vice around his cock. He tips his head as his eyes flutter closed, lips falling open as soft sighs escape him. His hands and cock smear through the sticky mixture of his own glistening precum and the little pools of milky discharge flowing from your nipples. The wet, slick sounds of his cock sliding across your skin punctuate his quiet moans and makes your own arousal flare deep in your belly and between your legs.

It doesn’t take long for him to finish—he groans your name and catches most of his release with his fingers, and he stares at the remnants he didn’t catch that splatter the tops of your breasts up to the delicate column of your throat. He wishes he could keep you like this forever, stained with his release like some sort of brand that claims you as his.

He grabs your hands instead and holds them against your chest; the cum on his fingers rubs onto yours. He’s making an utter mess of you—he’ll wash you again soon, but not yet.

“Keep rubbing them, darling,” he murmurs softly, guiding your movements with his hands, “just like that.” He watches you massage yourself as he loosens the belt around his waist and shrugs the robe off his shoulders. It falls in a heap on the floor and you bite back a moan as he slides down your body. His eyes twinkle with mischievous delight when he spreads your legs apart and kneels between your thighs. You gasp when he starts stroking you, his fingers matching your own slow, lazy rhythm.

“You won’t feel uncomfortable for long, darling,” he promises thickly, licking his lips and glancing at your heaving chest with half-lidded eyes before he lowers his head between your legs. “I’m going to make you feel so good.”

BEELZEBUB & BELPHEGOR

The twins lead you up the attic stairs and guide you towards the bed. You’re not sure what they have in mind—it’s unusual for Beel to join you for midday naps—but their motives become clearer when they take off their shirts and then reach for the hem of yours.

Belphie doesn’t even try to hide the way his eyes roam over your swollen chest and leaky nipples, but Beel’s hand is gentle when he nudges you onto the mattress. “You’ll be more comfortable if you lay down,” he suggests, and you can practically hear the drool thickening his words.

They don’t give you much time to feel self-conscious or insecure about your body’s strange developments. Beel settles on one side of your body while Belphie curls up against your other side, effectively sandwiching you between them in a little warm cocoon of molten heat and soft affection. Each of them cups one of your breasts and they both sigh dreamily at the warm, slick sensation from the milky discharge.

Belphie props himself up so he can lean over you. He nuzzles your cheek and kisses you, softly at first before he groans deep in his chest and his lips move against yours with more urgency.

Beel stretches out along the other side of your body and runs his thumb over your nipple, and his eyes watch your face carefully for any signs of discomfort. When he sees none, he covers your nipple with his mouth and hums at the slightly sweet taste. The heat of his mouth and the sensation of his tongue flicking against the sensitive nub surprises you; you arch your back slightly, and he makes a questioning noise in the back of his throat as he pulls away. You card your hands through his damp, fiery hair to let him know you’re alright. Once he’s sure that you’re not hurt, he lowers his head and starts to suck your nipple with more vigor than before.

Belphie finally breaks away from the kiss when Beel’s hungry groans become too distracting to ignore. You barely have time to wonder what the sly smile on his face means before he latches onto your other nipple; you’re not sure whether the quiet moan that tumbles from your lips is from pleasure or pain. He’s not as gentle as Beel—he sucks just as greedily but with a hint of teeth. He’s noisy, too—his lips slurp and smack against your swollen breast but it’s not enough to hide his muffled groans.

The quiet tranquility of the attic fills with the lewd sounds of Belphie’s whiny, desperate noises and Beel’s low satisfied growls. The unusual pleasure of their lips sucking greedily at your chest slowly morphs to discomfort, and you squirm uncomfortably beneath their combined weight against your sides.

Beel lifts his head first, and even though his eyes are dark with hunger, he still glances at you with concern. Belphie is slower to respond—he pulls your nipple between his lips and releases it with a little pop, and he smacks his lips noisily.

They’re both messy from their ministrations. The bottom half of Beel’s face is slick and there’s a trickle of milky fluid dripping down his chin. Belphie’s lips are shiny too, and he licks his lips slowly to collect the creamy white discharge on the tip of his tongue; he stares at you with unabashed heat in his eyes when he swallows it down with a satisfied hum.

“What’s the matter?” Belphie asks with a pout when you shudder beneath him, even though he knows you’re not fooled by his fake innocence. “Satan said draining the excess fluid would help you feel better.”

You had no idea that the twins feeding from your chest like greedy piglets would be their way of helping you, and you hate it even more that part of you liked it. “You’re right, and it helps that they’re less…well, full,” you admit, ignoring the wolfish grin spreading across Belphie’s face, “but…be gentle, okay? They’re still sore.”

Belphie glances over at Beel and you know that they’re doing that silent twin brain thing they do—it’s amazing how they can read each other’s minds so quickly. You’re not sure what to expect, but it’s not for Beel to slide down the bed. He tugs at the waistband of your pants until you lift your hips so he can pull them off and toss them away.

“We’ll give you a little break and try again later,” Belphie murmurs as he rubs the tip of his nose against yours. “You taste so good, though—you can’t blame us for getting a little carried away.”

Beel’s hands spread your legs apart so he can settle comfortably between them near the foot of the bed, and you shudder when he lowers his head and breathes against the hot, sensitive skin between your thighs.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself because this is a little embarrassing,” you mumble under your breath, but your voice trails off into a groan when Beel’s lips tease at your arousal.

Belphie chuckles, glancing from your half-lidded eyes to your chest—your breasts jiggle slightly from the tremors of Beel’s tongue exploring between your legs. “Don’t be like that,” he scolds you, squeezing at your chest gently; he traces shapes onto your skin with the pearly fluid seeping from your nipple. “You know we’ll always love you, right?” he asks quietly.

You’re surprised by how vulnerable he sounds, and he grunts quietly when you curl your hand against the back of his nape and pull him down for another kiss. His mouth curls into a smirk against yours, but he finally kisses you properly when you whimper his name pathetically in a quiet plea for more.

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thoughtsfromlayla · 29 days

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26 Ways of Taking You: E for Edging

Summary: Hell hath no pettiness like a woman ignored.

Notes: ~4k words of pure POR-, Dream in this fic can be summed up as "the light is on but no one is home", reader gives big bratty energy and I love that for her honestly (same)

Warnings: NSFW 18+, Sub!Dream, orgasm denial, edging (duh), unprotected intercourse, p in v, handjob, blowjob, riding, takin' it from da back

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

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How busy could a monarch possibly be?

You sit on the plush couch, quietly seething like the crackling fireplace that accompanies you. It should be your husband who should be accompanying you instead. The book you were supposedly reading has long since become words on a page, the letters merging together and tangling within themselves. You dejectedly shut the book with a bang as you realize you’ve been rereading the same line with no progress for the past hour.

You understand that Morpheus’ duties are never ending, as endless as his name, but would it really kill him to spend a few hours a day with you? With a sigh, you toss the book onto the ottoman and stand, your bones groaning as they finally move after hours of staying still. A bath wouldn’t sound half bad right now.

Another sigh of relief leaves you as you enter the bathhouse. The large communal bath of natural spring waters was completely empty. You still take a quick glimpse around before stripping yourself before submerging into the hot water, the sudden change in temperature making your nipples perk. The temperature burns you for a moment, but you soon become acclimated to it. You completely submerge yourself, the natural hum of The Dreaming deafens as you do, and with all of your pent up frustrations, you scream into the water, watching as the air leaves your lips in large, aggressive bubbles that swim to the surface.

“Anyway,” You say to yourself when you resurface, already feeling much better.

You move to the side, grabbing at a bar of soap, and begin to lavish it across your skin, feeling the soothing effect glide over your skin. The water was doing wonders on your muscles and the hum that leaves your lips was that of satisfaction.

“There you are,” Morpheus’ voice echoes in the empty room.

You turn slowly as you look at him, your body fully submerged in the water, except for anything above your nose. You stay quiet, too vexed with him to say anything of note. Instead, you turn away and continue washing your body.

“Are you that angry with me?” He continues and you hear the faint rustling of him removing his clothes and him walking into the bath soon after. The still water sloshes around his waist as he continues his path towards you and you soon feel his cooler limbs wrap around your body.

“Have you missed me?” He murmurs into your neck as he rests his head there. The comfort of your skin against his revitalizes his tired body.

The grip you had on the soap turns bone-crushing at his question. Have you missed me? You repeat his question in your head in a mocking tone. He surely needs to be punished for leaving you alone for so long. A plan is quick and easy to form in your head and a sly smile crawls on your lips.

You turn in his arms, the same smile on your lips as you look up at him.

“Dearly,” You answer back and press your lips to his. The heat of the bathhouse increases the heat that grows at your core. “Let me show you how much, my love.”

The suds of the soap drips down your hand as you continue to lather the bar with your one hand. The other hand is placed commanded on his shoulder to prevent him from running away, as if he would ever do so from your touch. A smile appears on his face as well as your sudsy hand trails down his chest and closer to his nether regions.

It is of no surprise to you when you already feel his half erection greeting you beneath the waters. Your slippery fingers grasp around the shaft and a broken gasp leaves Dream’s mouth. You meticulously move your hands along his cock as you wickedly watch as he throws his head back in pleasure. His Adam’s apple bobs with each beautiful sound that comes out of his throat and you don’t restrain yourself from wrapping your lips around the protruding piece.

Slowly, your hand increases in pace, gripping his cock tighter as you do so, the water and soap assisting you as your fingers glide across the skin. His moans and groans soon turn breathless and he’s simply breathing hard and desperate against your hand. The sounds echoed across the walls of the bathhouse.

His hands shoot out of the water as he grabs the back of your neck, looking deeply into your eyes as your hand continues its ministrations. His eyebrows crease as his dick jumps in your hand, mouth open in a silent plea as his orgasm comes closer to its peak. A whisper of your name like a prayer falls from his lips and both of you know he won’t last long. Morpheus closes his eyes in anticipation as his muscles tense below his skin.

His eyes snap open as your fingers leave him, pushing yourself back away from his body and he’s left standing on wobbly legs. The water ripples from his trembling and close orgasmed body.

“What-”

“Would you look at the time? I should go to bed now. Good night, Morpheus,” You cut him off with a firm hand.

His eyes follow you as you walk out of the bath. Eyes lingering on the roundness of your ass cheeks as they pop out further as you climb up the stairs. His feet stay planted in the bath as you wrap yourself in a towel. He stays still even as you leave the room without a second glance at you. He could finish himself off, but he knows it wouldn’t be as good as your hands.

The next day, you catch Morpheus and yourself by surprise as you see him standing along the aisles of the library. Embarrassment floods your system as you vividly remember what transpired the other day. Never had you defied him so easily… and felt so happy to do so.

You peek over the bookshelf you were half hiding behind. Morpheus had an off-glazed look in his eyes. His finger was resting on the spine of a book and he kept it there for a while. If you squint you don’t think he was even breathing. You walk up to him, his gaze still not noticing you. A tap on his shoulder was enough to garner his attention, and he seemed to snap out of his zombie-like state after seeing you.

“Are you all right, my dear?” You ask in truth. His distracted demeanor is a cause for concern.

Almost immediately his eyes harden and a frown grows on his face.

“You,” He growls down at you. “You left me wanting last night, denying me such a thing like that is cruel.”

You huff at his accusation. If denying one orgasm is cruel, what does he call leaving you alone for days on end then?

“Want me to make it up to you?” You reply coyly and with a smile. Your fingers go to the lapels of his jacket and smooth over them.

A quizzical brow raises itself at your compromise but his will dejects with a sigh. “How would you do that, dearest?”

“Well, I could…” You trail off as your fingers down his chest, just like the night before. You feel the sturdiness of the chest and how his heartbeat thrums beneath your fingers. He’s so real for the physical manifestation of a concept. “I could do something better than last night?”

He hums as your fingers ghost over the hem of his jeans, feeling his happy trail and the depth of the lines that lead itself to his cock. You cup at his growing hardness through the rough material and his hands once again go to you, holding you gently on your waist.

His eyes hold yours as you sink to your knees before him, a smile still evidently on your face. You don’t bother looking away when your fingers pop the button, nor when you pull at the zipper, his breath growing heavier at each tick of the metal. Your fingers tickle gently over the length of him behind the thin cloth of his underwear.

His hand grabs at the root of your hair as his hips impatiently bucks into your face. With a flat tongue, you press the wet appendage over the tip of him, wetting the cloth underneath as you trace around his frenulum. The smell of his manhood invades your senses as you do so and your eyes roll to the back of your head at his soft moan.

A little pull is all you need for his cock to spring out of its confinement, hot and heavy and leaking with excited precum. You feel its warmth as your soft lips kiss his tip, taking your hands around his base. You lick at the precum carefully then and his grip strengthens in your hair.

“You said it would be better. Enough teasing,” He commands and you feel your lips tug into a barely containable smile.

Without debate you wrap your lips around his tip, suckling at the supple skin. The bookshelf he leans against rattles as his head slams into the wooden material. You take down another inch while your hand continues to work his base. Saliva drips through your lips, creating a trail down a vein as you continue to suckle.

A guttural groan tells you to go deeper, and you do until you feel him hitting the back of your throat. Your eyes begin to tear slightly at the large intrusion, but you push through for your master plan. You hollow out your throat, taking him down the tight cavern, and relish in the feeling of his thighs flexing under your fingers.

Your nails dig into his thigh muscles as you bob your head back and forth on his weeping cock, the filthy mixture of saliva and pre-cum rests deliciously on your tongue. Morpheus has started to curse from above you at the warm fit. The Dreaming around you begins to hum louder as you pull back on his cock, sucking as hard as you could with him in your mouth.

His dick jumps in your mouth, his telltale sign that he is close to his orgasm. That and your name falling from his lips once again. His hand has yet to leave your hair as his hips try to take over by bucking themselves into your mouth each time you try to pull back. His thigh muscles spasm each second that passes and just as he’s about to see the stars, you remove your lips with a satisfying pop.

Cold air wraps around his cock instead of your warm mouth and he does his best to stop the whine that almost escapes his lips. Morpheus’ breath is ragged above you and his frown returns as he glares down at you. You looked perfect like this to him, on your knees, cheeks flushed, hair messy, and eyes watery. The only thing wrong with the picture was your satisfied grin that spread across your face and that very obvious fact that your mouth isn’t being put to use satisfying him.

“What do you-”

“Oh my, I think I hear Lucienne coming. I should go, goodbye, Morpheus!” You cheerfully lie as you stand and briskly walk away.

Lucienne was, of course, nowhere to be seen in the library. Both of them knew she was out gathering the consensus for the new year. Morpheus groans as he presses his palms into his eyes. You were going to be the death of him, even without trying. He’s starting to finally think that you were up to something, that devious smile of yours still flashes across his mind when he closes his eyes. He carefully puts his softening cock back into his pants as he absentmindedly thinks to himself. He doesn’t even remember why he was in the library to begin with.

Morpheus’ thoughts trail with him throughout the day and even the Dreaming residents notice the forlorn face that he wore. It was said that while he was attending to his duties and upholding the Dreaming, it was almost barely viable. His attitude turned sour and only answered Matthew’s questions with a simple grunt or resounding “no” (not much of a change there if you were to ask the bird). Lucienne was less than amused but unable to find you to help fix this issue, she kept quiet and hoped it would pass quickly with time.

That night, you were back on that couch, the fireplace was going again and the book you were reading was back in your hands. You’re freshly washed and enjoying the soft fabric of your summer’s nightgown as your feet tangle with the soft furs of the rug. This time, you did manage to read a few chapters but after a while, your thoughts went to the faces Morpheus made each time you denied his orgasm and a chuckle shakes through you. Surely this will teach him to never leave you alone for more than a couple days at a time.

The Dreaming this and The Dreaming that, well, next time he will remember that you too are a part of his world if he should ever want to feel the sweet release of his orgasm again. You’re sure the last two days have been Hell for him, but it was all worth it. That desperate look on his face was like sweet victory trickling down your throat, smooth and refreshing.

The door to your shared room opens with a bang causing you to drop your book in surprise. You look at Morpheus with wide eyes as you’re completely caught off by his sudden intrusion. Words fail you as he swiftly makes his way to you, standing in front of you with his lips tugging downwards. A scoff leaves you as you realize he’s pouting at you.

“What ever is the matter, sweet Morpheus?” You tease in an almost condescending, sickly sweet voice.

“You’re punishing me.” It wasn’t a question. He states it loud and clear. It had taken him all day to decipher your actions. The thought had been chasing him for the past two days, but he was always faster than it, jittering from denied orgasms and responsibilities to accomplish.

“No!” You gasp with exaggeration. “We were simply interrupted!”

Morpheus stays silent at your blatant lie, if anything you basically smacked him with a sign that read “yes, obviously, you numb-nut of a lover.” He doesn’t bother to move either, his eyes betraying his pseudo-domineering stance at the moment.

“Well, good conversation then,” You mutter to yourself as you pick up your book again. You turn to the page you left off on and begin to read again.

Morpheus’ gaze burned two holes into the top of your head as you read. Not before long, another surprised noise leaves you as he plucks the book from your hands and throws it off into some unknown corner of the room.

“Lucienne is going to murder you for treating her books like that,” You comment with a cross of your arms.

“She’ll survive,” He growls down at you. He’s met with your brow raising in turn, in which he finally pieces the last piece together. “Are you acting out because I’ve been neglecting you?”

Dang, he really hit the nail in the head with that one. You turn your head to the side, arms still crossed as you respond.

“Well, I certainly got your attention this time.”

“I’d say,” He muses. He sits down by your feet, the white fur of the rug in stark contrast to his outfit. The fireplace softens his sharpness with its warm glow as you look at him from above.

You think the conversation was over then, it seemed like the two of you came to a conclusion. Getting up from the couch, you try to walk over to the corner the book was lying in, but are stopped almost immediately as he holds onto your wrist.

“How can I make it up to you, my love?” He asks and the pout almost makes it to his lips again. And, well, how can you say no to a face like that?

You join him on the rug, hands cupping at his face. He leans into your touch, the moment endearing as you look at him.

“Did we learn anything?” You ask.

“Yes.”

“Lay down for me, darling. And let’s get rid of the clothes,” You hum.

The change is instantaneous as he lays down per your request. The furs caress against your shins as you move to straddle him, picking up the helms of your nightgown in the process. Your arousal starts to drip out of you at the sight before you. Reducing a King to nothing but a needy lover was a sight for fond eyes. It’s the thought of knowing that he could easily overpower you if he so wanted, but relinquishing all his power just so you may touch him? Delicious.

Your pussy lips slide across the length of him as you get comfortable sitting on his lap. Morpheus’ hands easily find themselves, once again on your waist. How he wished you would strip for him as well, but he doesn’t voice his want in case you decided against touching him tonight.

Leaning over, you go to kiss him, feeling his soft lips against yours and even you can’t deny your body when it grinds down over his cock. A satisfied hum emits from your throat as his hands wander over the curve of your ass and you leave his lips to give him bruising kisses along his pale skin. You are a painter and he is a canvas where you will show the world how much you loved him. Red blooms across the soft skin, his grip on you tightening.

His hips thrust upwards with a moan, to which you defiantly sit down harder on him to prevent him from moving anymore. Your name falls from his lips in a hushed whisper, barely audible over the crackling fire. It sends a tug into your core, to hear it in such reverence. With heavy breath, you lean back and watch as his lips try to chase you.

Morpheus stops himself short when he sees you raising slightly, hand moving between the two of you and firmly grabbing at his cock. You guide himself under you, teasing him a bit more by sliding his tip across the length of your slit. His mouth opens in protest, but before words can come out, you sink yourself onto him.

Harmonious groans tangled with each other at the feeling. The familiar stretch of him leaves you panting above him. Your warmth was incomparable to your hands or mouth and Morpheus’ nails left small crevices in your thighs. The slight pain grounds you from drifting off into a complete world of pleasure. It takes a few moments for you to start moving your hips, the size of him taking a few moments to adjust to. The first drag of his cock in you leaves you shaking already. It had been too long since you had last felt the touch of his skin against yours.

With your hands bracing themselves on his chest, you begin your bounces, keeping a rhythm that you like. Morpheus is like putty beneath your fingers, grasping at any part of you that he could in his throes of pleasure. His hair is beyond tussled, his lips dry and parted as noises accompany the slap of your thighs against his.

Each bounce makes his tip kiss against your cervix, your walls fluttering around him in a vice like grip at how well you took him. It was familiar but exciting each time you took him again and again. The smell of sex accompanies the smell of burning wood on the floor as your thighs shake in exhaustion.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” You whine out as you realize your rhythm starts to slow down.

You settle to grind on him instead, loving the way the new maneuver has his tip rubbing against the spongy spot in you. You gasp with your head thrown back as you’re about to reach your peak.

Morpheus stares at you in awe, sweat highlights your skin in the lowlight and your breasts bounce with each grind you push down onto him. Your hands brace themselves on his thighs as you feel your orgasm impeding slowly into your system. Just a few more like this and you would be done for and Morpheus would soon follow.

Another mischievous idea pops into your head through the haze of pleasure. With the remainder of your strength, you rise, letting his cock slip out of you. Morpheus whines this time, unable to hold it back as his hands grip your waist trying to pull you back onto him, to let you ride him into oblivion.

You feel his heat as you hover over his cock, panting into his neck. You may have denied your own orgasm, but seeing his teary and begging eyes was exactly what you wanted. His chest heaves with annoyance as a familiar frown makes its way onto his face.

“What do you think you are doing? I am going to kill you,” He accuses beneath you. The insult leaves his mouth but both of you know he would never follow through with it.

“I think… ha…” You’re still panting, cardio has never been your strong suit. “I think I’m too tired. I should turn in for the night, my love.”

“Surely you are joking,” He laughs void of any actual amusement.

“No, no, I’m just sooo tired. Yeah.” You fake a yawn as you unstraddle his waist.

His eyes trail you as you stand on wobbly legs, using the couch as a crutch as a halfway point to your shared bed.

“Absolutely not,” He comments as his hand brings you down again having you kneeling before the couch.

He’s quick to appear behind you, running his fingers down your spine to rest on your hip. The sensation leaves you weak and limp, bracing on the seat of the couch and resting your head on your arms. A kiss to the center of your shoulder blades is the only warning he gives before he inserts himself into you again.

Morpheus doesn’t wait as he picks up a brutal pace, each thrust he gives you communicating his frustrations. The legs of the furniture scratch the floor beneath it as it rocks with your body. You’re left, once again, panting in pleasure at the drag of his cock within your walls.

His grip on your hip is enough to bruise, to remind you of your passionate night the day after. His other hand snakes in front of your neck, pushing your face upwards, scattering your broken moans into the air.

The orgasm you denied yourself comes back with full force, your eyes shutting as you feel it searing through you. With help from Morpheus, as he thrusts forward into you, your lower lips clamp down onto him, releasing your cum over the front of his highs in a satisfying orgasm. Your back bows forward at the release and you’re left panting into the cushions.

“Let me cum,” He weakly commands as he feels your slick coating him.

“Please, yes! Cum,” You moan, riding through your orgasm as he continues pumping into you.

He bites down on your shoulder, his groan muffled between your skin as he climaxes into you. His cock twitches in you as he cum releases into the deepest part of your being. You feel as if your mind is full of cobwebs as he stays in you, keeping you full until his erection turns soft.

The softness of your shared bed barely registers in your mind as he moves the two of you over. The blanket is placed over your naked bodies and he pulls you close. His lips press into your temple as he chants mantras of his devotion to you as you fall asleep in his arms a satisfied smile on his face.

This time, Morpheus has learned his lesson as he stares adoringly at your peaceful face. How could he ever forget something like that?

Time to get back to that angst fic, but we can enjoy this as like... a palate cleanser or something

I'm now on Ao3! The fics are very slowly getting added when I have the energy to. I never knew how in-depth the tagging system went and I get tired looking at it...

♡ Yours, Layla

#the sandman #dream of the endless #morpheus #morpheus x reader #dream x reader #the sandman fanfic #dream of the endless x reader #the sandman x reader #sandman x reader #morpheus x reader smut #dream of the endless x reader smut #dream x reader smut #lord morpheus #dream the endless

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ackermanbloodline · 9 months

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The Lethality of Silence - Levi Ackerman x Female Reader

Summary: Levi comes home from a mission unable to speak or function. You take care of him.

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Fluff to eventual smut. MDNI, 18+. Idk I wrote this a while ago and I'm noticing tense usage is all over the place but don't really want to edit it so I apologize for that. Anyway, enjoy!

* * *

The sun is now setting outside the home that you and Levi bought almost a year ago together. Warm colors flood the room as you look towards the window in worry, wondering if Levi is alright. He and his squad were conducting a mission outside the walls and concern always flooded you when he wasn’t back home by sundown. It means the mission went either really well or very badly. Nothing in between. You begin to pace back and forth, unable to just sit still anymore.

Even though you had cleaned the house until it was practically shining and your hands were cracked because of the dryness, you wipe down everything again. Whenever you’re stressed, you clean. That’s a habit that you and Levi share.

Another hour passes before you hear the opening and closing of the front door. Faster than you can register it, you throw the rag down and pad over to the walkway. You find Levi hunched over with his head up against the door, leaning against it. Blood spattered his clothes, marring the Scouts insignia on his cloak, and caked messily in his black hair.

“Levi?” you call quietly, being careful to not startle him. In response to your calling, a heavy sigh heaves from his body. You still cannot tell what kind of direction the mission went. Once you can see his face, you’ll be able to.

You reach your hands up and over his shoulders, unpinning the green cloak from his body. His muscles are tense under your touch. Your heart wrenches. You walk over to the washer, lift up the lid, and put it in. You turn back towards Levi and plant a kiss on the back of his neck. You wrap your arms around his body but he doesn’t reciprocate the gesture in any way.

“Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You help Levi get undressed as you run a bath for him, shimmying various items of clothing off him and carefully tossing them in the dirty clothes basket in the corner of the bathroom. He winces every now and then again but doesn’t say a word. All you can hear is his breath trembling just ever so slightly. He tries hard to hide it but he fails. Various marks litter his skin, the early stages of a number of bruises. One encased his entire left rib cage. Your fingertips lightly traced it. You swallow a thick wad of salvia to keep your composure.

Once he’s completely undressed, he sinks into the tub and his body disappears into the sudsy water below. Almost immediately, the water mutates into a dawn-tinted color. You sit on your knees on one side of the tub and motion him to sink further so his hair goes into the water. Your hand wraps around the back of his neck when he does so and your other hand is being used to softly scrub his scalp with shampoo.

He closes his eyes in relaxation and after a while, you notice he’s asleep. His trembling stops and his breaths are slow and steady in and out through his nose. His eyebrows are relaxed. His near-constant frown is turned upward into a straight line. He’s never looked more at peace. You look down at him in admiration and continue to wash him, trying to cleanse him from all the stress and worry from the day. Once his head is done, you grab a clean washcloth draped over the faucet and dunk it under the water. You wring it and bring it up to his face, tenderly stroking his cheeks and forehead from grime. Each time revealing more and more of his flawless complexion. You take this moment to admire his beauty. While he isn’t good with compliments and hates it when you make a huge fuss over him, he is, undoubtedly, the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.

And he’s all yours.

Once his body is all washed up, you lean forward and kiss his lips, cheeks, nose, forehead. He stirs awake and his eyes crack open. You give him a small smile.

“You need to rinse off.”

He stands up and you turn on the shower now, making sure every spec of dirt is washed off. From the other side of the shower curtain, you wipe down his entire body again. He is as stiff as a board and doesn’t move. The hot stream of the shower against his scalp feels borderline euphoric to him.

He steps out of the shower and dries himself off after you give him a towel which had been sitting by the woodstove. His movements are limited and minimal. You retrieve black sweatpants, boxer briefs, and a white shirt from his drawers and set them on the sink.

“Here are some pajamas. Are you hungry?”

He says in the quietest voice you’ve ever heard, “No.”

“Levi, please, you should eat something. How about some bread and tea?”

“Okay.”

You leave him in the bathroom to get dressed and go to the kitchen. You put a small loaf of bread on the woodstove as well as the kettle. You lean on the counter and run a hand through your hair, taking a deep breath as you do so. You’ve never seen Levi like this, ever, and you two had been together for a few years. What in the hell happened during this mission?

You have absolutely no plans to ask him tonight. It can wait until tomorrow. Right now, all you’re focused on is making him feel at home and relaxed.

The bread and tea are both steaming when you set them on the dining table. Levi had gone to his bedroom and shut the door. You knock on the door.

“Honey?”

“Come in.”

You step through the doorway to find Levi’s head in his hands and sitting on his bed. Your heart aches as you walk over and sit down next to him, carefully palming large circles onto his back. He reaches out and places a hand on your knee, squeezing lightly. You take that as a ‘thank you.’ Levi had an easier time communicating through action rather than words themselves. Moments like this are when that theory proved true.

“The food is ready.”

“Okay.”

The two of you eat in silence. You split the bread loaf in half and he takes longer to eat his half than you. He has no problem getting the tea down, per usual. But something is better than nothing. The quietness is deafening yet calming for the both of you. Levi takes about a half-hour to eat his food. Once you two are done, you take the plates and quickly wash them before placing them in the drying rack.

You pad back over to your boyfriend and carefully straddle his hips while he’s still seated in the chair. He looks up at you with lifeless eyes. But there’s something deep inside them that speaks to you, even now. You brush some of his hair back from his face and set your hand on the side of his face. You gently place your lips on his, kissing him in the most passionate, loving way you can.

He weakly wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer. While the kiss is very slow, there’s a certain intimacy to it. The kiss deepens and you rotate your head so the two of you lean your heads to the left. His tongue lazily explores yours. His hands settle on the sides of your thighs as your fingers find their way to his hair and stroke delicately. A barely distinguishable groan emits from the back of Levi’s throat. Wetness starts to gather in between your thighs and you can feel Levi’s cock hardening beneath you.

This certainly wasn’t on your docket for the night but you aren’t opposed to it.

You pull away from Levi, searching his face for any hints of what he’s thinking.

“Hey,” you say, leaning your forehead against his. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.”

He brushes his mouth against yours and you close the gap once again. You wrap your hands around the back of his chair and you grind your hips down on his. His length presses up against your cunt deliciously and a surge of pleasure washes through both of you. Levi makes another sound, moaning, a little louder this time. You want to make him feel good, to make him feel better. You couldn’t give a shit less about what your own body wanted.

Your lips travel from his mouth to his jawline to his neck, making him squirm a little underneath when you work to suck, lick, kiss, and bite the skin there. He shifts his hips upward to get some relief, but not nearly high enough as he usually can. It’s frustrating to him. You gently hump him as you kiss on his neck and the combination is enough to drive Levi wild.

“I wanna make you feel good,” you whisper into his neck.

“Then do it.”

You take his words as a challenge. You stand up and kneel down to your knees in front of him. His eyes are glued to you like a car crash. You lift up his shirt partially and kiss his abs, slowly making your way down to the waistband of his underwear. His muscles contract under your mouth and he throws his head back when you trace two fingers underneath the band. Once his underwear and sweatpants are down to his knees, his cock springs free. You waste no time and take it into your mouth.

His hands firmly grip the armrests of the chair as you go to work on him. His knuckles are white and veins are bulging. Various curses and groans leave his lips, but no coherent sentences. His hips buck up into your mouth, causing his tip to hit the back of your throat. Tonight, you challenge yourself. You take a deep breath and try your best to take him in his entirety. Your lips, inch by inch, lower further and further down onto his shaft. Your eyes sting slightly but you ignore it and continue to push.

Your lips meet the base of his dick, your nose buried in his pubic hair, and he lets out a louder moan. You are able to deepthroat him and, as a result, he calls out for you in pure pleasure. You bob your head up and down slowly, wanting to break him down in every single way. Your hands steady themselves on his naked, muscular thighs and you use them to balance yourself.

He runs a hand through your hair, gripping softly. He whimpers, “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…”

He uses your scalp to softly guide your lips up and down onto him. He tries his best to keep his eyes open, to see how pretty you look as you devour him, but the pleasure is too much. It is not long at all before he’s already starting to shake. Part of him is embarrassed that he approaches that edge so quickly, but he couldn’t help it. It’s you.

He takes his bottom lip between his teeth and breathes loudly as he approaches his orgasm. Just as he is about to be pushed over, he lifts you off him quickly and collapses back into the chair. You are confused as you are left on your knees in between his.

“C’mere,” he says, holding his hand out and using his index and middle fingers to usher you towards him. “Please.”

You sit back down on his lap and kiss him as he requests. He tastes himself on your tongue and the thought makes him even harder. So much so, in fact, that it’s almost painful. He pulls away and looks into your eyes.

“Fuck me.”

His voice is so sultry that it makes you drip with desire.

“Baby, no, it’s okay, I don’t want anything tonight. I want to make you feel good.”

“I’ve been through hell tonight and you are single-handedly the closest to heaven that I’ll ever experience,” he explains and looks down between your legs, your cunt sitting on top of him. “Please, sweetheart, please just fuck me.”

He is almost pleading at this point. You bite down on your lip in lust. You push your shorts and underwear to the side and you are already so wet that he goes in with ease. Both of your mouths drop open when you gasp as it goes in, reveling in that initial feeling of being so full of him and feeling your warmth encasing his cock. Your eyes roll back into your head, pulling him close to you as you relish how wonderful he is inside you.

You lower your body up and down onto him, his length thrusting in and out of you at a slow yet perfect pace. Levi’s eyes are glued to your body as he’s pinned against the back of the chair. Electricity sparks in your pelvis and spreads to your limbs as you fuck him. You two are so saturated with passion and need that slaps of skin echo throughout the room. God, you could ride this man forever. His face is priceless. His eyes are screwed shut, his mouth is dropped open, and his eyebrows are furrowed together as his hands guide your movements. He always looks so pretty when he’s being fucked.

You use one of your hands to circle your clit. Levi feels your walls clenching up around him and his eyelids open to find you playing with yourself as you’re riding him. You look so needy for him that his arousal heightens. He watches you intently. You kiss him again and your tongues instantly find one another’s, slipping and smacking with enthusiasm. In this short amount of time, he is already close again. But thankfully, so are you.

“I’m gonna cum,” he says between gritted teeth. You nod your head and encourage him to do so, so close to your orgasms. With a few more thrusts, he spills inside you and you cum on the spot. His beautiful moans fill the room, as do yours. Your pelvic floor milks him for every drop and he has to steady your hips due to the sensitivity he feels afterward. He stays inside you for a few minutes, gently kissing you as you both come down from your highs.

He pulls out and some cum drips onto his thigh. Excitedly, you drop down and use your tongue to clean him up. He lovingly looks down on you as you swallow it all. His eyes are so lidded, though, that you’re afraid that he’s about to fall asleep right here.

You pull your shorts and underwear back on and you help him pull up his pants again. Without a word, you take his hand and lead him to the bedroom. You both approach his side of the bed and you pull down the covers and he plops in. He takes off his shirt and sets it on the nightstand next to him. You cover his body with the duvet and you leave to go to the bathroom and extinguish all the candles in the house.

You come back and climb into bed with him to find him already fast asleep. You take a deep breath and, once again, push some hair back from his face. Again, this peaceful state is something that you wish he experienced all the time.

Unfortunately, life doesn’t work that way.

You set a hand down on his arm and watched him sleep for a few moments before he starts to whine and whimper in his sleep. Your eyebrows furrow together. You wonder what kind of nightmare he was having now. You wake him up by carefully shaking his shoulder and kissing his lips. His eyes go wide as he initially wakes up but soften when he sees you. His arm slithers around your waist and settles on your back, pushing you in closer to him.

“Mmm,” he sleepily groans. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“I really, really do.”

“I know.”

A small smile spreads across his face and you close your eyes, curling up into the warmth of his chest. Whatever happened today, you are sure that he will probably talk about it tomorrow with you. Until then, you revel in this silence and peace. This afterglow. You both drift to sleep, knowing that you are both protected and so loved by one another.

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garoujo · 1 year

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・✶ ｡ﾟgojo wants to make sure you can only ever think about him when he’s not there.

♱ warnings — f!reader, shower scenes >< gojo uses the shower head on you, it’s been so long since i’ve written him so pls forgive me if i’m a little rusty sob. / note. as u can assume this idea hit me during my shower 2day sob . i’ve missed him sm !

it would be crazy of you to think that you could just have a relaxing, intimate sort of shower with gojo — especially when the man is hellbent on teasing you, poking at your sides and insisting that he be the one to help you lather up your body,

but it seems gojo’s thought up another way of getting to you, especially considering he’s taken his time to get you particularly sudsy as his chest presses snug against your back — letting you melt into the needy ministrations of his hands as he lathers you in soap.

it’s felt like so long since you’ve felt gojo like this, felt his hands on your body and the twitch of his cock against your skin — pressing tight against your back as he reaches forward to grab the shower head to wash you off.

you should’ve been more suspicious considering how rock fucking hard he already feels against you, leaning down to graze his lips along your shoulder as he begins to rinse the bubbles off of you. his hands smooth along your abdomen as the soothing, warm stream of water follows after — his touch making goosebumps burst along your skin as you sigh.

“that feel good, sweet thing?” gojo goads as he whispers lowly against the shell of your ear, humming when you nod in reply and let your head fall back to rest against his shoulder — so pliant and pretty for him already and he’s barely touched you, yet.

that’s when it starts, his palm smoothes lower as he washes the soap off of you — easing your thighs to spread slightly where you stand as he soothes you with presses of his lips along your shoulder and neck. but it’s almost too fast, the way his fingertips cut down through your folds before he spreads you lewdly, followed by the sudden spray from the shower head along your intimate skin that makes you jolt.

“fuck.. ‘toru.” you hiss at the surge of pleasure the stream of water feels like it shoots through you, but it only urges gojo to hum like he’s pleased before he’s pressing his face into the crook of your neck and hooking his free arm around your waist — to keep you upright.

“oh? ‘s this what my sweet girl does when she misses my cock, hm?” he smirks, teases before his words are followed by another precise spray from the shower head along your folds — his feet kicking your legs wider as he pulls you even tighter into him.

ofcourse gojo knows how you please yourself when he’s gone, he’d seen you himself — walking into you soaking in your bath, looking starry-eyed and fucked out with the shower head in your hand, acting like he’d just walked in on you committing a crime. but fuck—he thinks you look so good right now, it should be fucking criminal.

the beads of water are racing down your tits and abdomen, pretty thighs spread so he can see the way the water against your clit makes them twitch and shake. but he’s got you, held tight in his hold so he can press deeper into you, letting you feel the hard strain of his cock against your back as he mouths at your jawline.

but he thinks you still look even better on the end of his cock.

“heh—not the same, huh? thought i had some competition. guess nothings quite like me, that right, princess?” you’re nodding and huffing, sweet little uh huhs pouring from your lips with every flick of his wrist, letting the water press hard against your cunt with how high he’s put the water pressure.

gojo gives you a few more seconds before he draws his hips back, feels you jolt in his hold when he turns you to face him — hooded lids and parted lips as you send him a pretty little look that has him wrapping your arms around his shoulders so he can kiss you.

you’re already fucked out as you press your chest tight against his, letting him cage you tight against the damp shower wall behind you before he’s hooking one of your thighs up so he can line up his cock. he bites on your lower lip as he pulls away, waiting until you’re blinking up at him to finally sink into you so he can watch your features break with that pretty, lewd expression.

“looks like you’re made for me after all, sweet thing. know you best, yeah? are you my girl?” gojo hums with the first saccharine squeeze of your walls around him, pressing deeper into you like he’s trying to draw out the answer he wants so bad. your lips part as you nod, head resting back against the wall before he’s tilting his head down at you and giving you another inch, deeper.

“say it then. real loud f’ me.” he knows you’re struggling, hanging onto that last little thread of sanity that’s threatening to snap with the thick spread of his cock. you both gasp and moan when his hips finally press tight against yours and you’re breathing deep when your nails scratch along the ivory skin of his shoulders, followed by a sweet little “i’m your girl, ‘toru.” that makes him fucking throb.

gojo grins at you, one of his more handsome smirks through pink cheeks before he draws his hips back and sinks into you again, and it feels like he reaches even deeper when you feel the sudden spray from the shower head return to your cunt.

the snowy peaks of his hair are wet as they frame his features, hooded lids gazing down at you as he begins a pace and he knows you’re already so fucking close when your pussy grips his cock tight — urging him back in as he ups the pressure of the water against your puffy clit with a chuckle.

“oh, you’re being real good for me, my sweet girl. wanna see how pretty you look when you cry f’ me.” every smack of gojo’s hips sounds even louder as it echos around the bathroom, your cries muffled against his lips as he licks into your mouth. you feel dizzy with the ruthless pressure along your clit aswell as his cock grazing along the sweet spots inside of you, feeling it push you towards your orgasm alarmingly quick as you cry out for him.

“already squeezin’ real tight, have i got you feeling that good? hm?” he thinks you’re fucking adorable actually, his name falling from your lips like a half-hormone drunken prayer that he rewards with another particularly sharp, deep kiss of his cock along your swollen spots. he buries kisses into your skin like he wants the spots to remember him, working your body with pure desire to feel you cum for him.

“oh, looks like you wont be able to use this without me thinking ‘bout me now. such a shame, princess.”

#݁ . ࿓ : sealed#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you

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san8ny · 19 hours

Text

Neck Kisses.

an: Pt I to the ‘kissing series’ I have / Just an insecure Ellie who you reassure

“You’re not even bad looking.” You sigh, scrubbing at the sudsy cooking pot as you glance over to where Ellie pouts on the couch, “If you were, then i’d be ugly too since i’m dating you.”

Ellie huffs. “No you’re not. You’re beautiful, and you damn well know it. Anyone with eyes could see that…” She runs a hand through her hair, frustration clear in her voice.

“And anyone with eyes could see you aren’t unattractive. Since when do you listen to what beerbelly men at dingy bars tell you?” You mutter, confused at why she was suddenly taking shit from some jackasses.

Her eyes roll. “Okay, you’re right. It’s not like people make fun of me for my looks every single day of my life. I’m beautiful, and I don’t see how I could even remotely be considered ugly!” Her words drip with sarcasm, frustration obvious in the way her voice is rising. “It’s not like I have a list of things wrong with me, ranging from my crooked teeth and broken nos—

“and pretty freckles, and equally pretty red hair..”

Her frown deepens as she glowers at you. “My freckles? Really. Why would anyone ever find my freckles cute?” She scoffs, a bitter expression on her face. “And my short hair? All I get told about it is that I look too much like a boy. You’re only trying to make me feel better to make up for what they said.”

“Yeah?” You hum as you dry your hands with a cloth, walking over to sit on her lap. A shudder runs down Ellie’s spine as your lips softly brush the skin of her jawline, her mouth falling open ever so slightly as her breath stutters. “H-hey…” She lets out an exasperated huff, her voice shaky.

“You’re a tease,” She mutters softly, though a small smile dances on her face.

“You’re so pretty t’me..” You let it slip, pressing your soft lips to her while your hands foam up and down her nape, the hairs standing up from your electrifying touch.

Ellie’s breath hitches as your lips now begin to brush against her cheek, a shudder running through her whole body. “You only say that because you have bad taste in women…” She mutters breathlessly, her fingers digging into your plush sides.

“Mm, do I?”

Her teeth dig into her bottom lip as your fingertips travel lower down her neck, her breath hitching as she nods. “Y-yeah…” She can’t help the slight quiver in her voice as her fingers slide up to your hair, burying themselves in the strands.

“Does my girlfriend like me though?”

Ellie lets out a breathless chuckle as your mouth travels lower, her breath hitching again. “Y-yes…” She murmurs, her fingers tightening in your hair. “Yes, she-” Another exhale stutters from her as she gasps and breaks off, her head falling to the side as you nip at her neck. “She does..”

“love y’so much, Elliebaby.”

A soft moan slips out between her parted lips, her eyes fluttering shut as your teeth worry at her skin. “F-fuuuck…” Her grip tightens in your tresses, her head tilting further to the side to give her easier access.

“God, I love you…” The words stumble from her mouth in a breathy haze, her voice dripping with affection

“And you’re never g’na listen to what some no-good, men who are cheating on their wives, say to you, right?”

Ellie’s voice is breathless as she struggles to form a witty reply, her words interrupted by small gasps and moans. “Yessss….” She manages to hiss out between breaths, her hold on you tightening.

“Never again…” Her voice is almost a plea as her body arches further against yours, her head falling back with a sharp inhale against the couch.

You’d be sure to give those men their lashings when the time comes. For now, you’re teaching Ellie some lessons.

#the last of us 2 #Ellie Williams #ellie williams x f!reader #ellie williams x female reader #wlw #sapphic #tlou 2 #tlou fanfiction

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kanpaeki · 9 months

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"stop playing with my panties, dominic" - dominic fike x reader

gif not mine <33

THIS is my first piece of writing since like 2018. i'm so nervous to left this fly but i've received some encouragement from some sweethearts so i think i'm ready!

this is just dominic bothering reader as she's doing her self care sunday. i wanted my first fic back to be something short, silly but cute. thank you so so much to @huhniebowl for helping me get this out, i'd been brainstorming for days.

hopefully we go up from here. hope you likeeee.

after a long week, self-care sunday finally arrived to reinstate the state of your sanity. nearing the end of summer, you'd assume people would have their lives together more so than the beginning. but nope. and of course it was your job to deal with the mess. but you digress, it wasn't like this all the time. plus, you wouldn't get such satisfaction out of cleaning as you do now.

you'd decided to start on chores to get them out the way before you really locked in with skin, nails and hair care. you'd already put a load in the laundry, taking care of the dishes currently when you hear the jiggle of the front door. dominic bursts through, having gone for an impromptu session at the studio after some lyrics suddenly came to him.

"hey! how was it?" you call over your shoulder, elbow-deep in some sudsy water. instead of answering you, he slinks behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his chin atop your head. "honestly, i really wanna put this one out."

you laugh at that, knowing he says that damn near every time. "it must be good then."

"well, you know, i'm something of a musical prodigy," he smiles, leaving your side to go see what snacks he could find in the cabinet, "just kidding. i don't know what i'm doing." he mumbles, stuffing a chip in his mouth.

rolling your eyes, you unplug the drain in the sink, letting the water out and shaking out your hands. "even your mom said you were a musical prodigy, i'd have to agree with her."

you go to grab a paper towel when he puts the chip bag down on the counter, "i'm being so rude, did you want help?" he dusts his hands off on his jeans before picking up a dish and rinsing it off. except he grabbed a spoon. and consequently, water went everywhere, mostly on you due to your position right in front of the faucet. he drops the spoon and pauses while you hiss at the cool water soaking through your shirt, looking down to see the damage before glaring up at him.

"i didn't mean to do that."

with a soaked shirt, you sigh and continue the dishes. "you can dry them as i rinse them, how about that?"

"yeah, that's probably better."

after you'd finished the dishes, you moved onto working on laundry as he went to rest. or so you thought. you played some music from your phone softly, while you sat on a stool, folding clothes out the dryer and putting them in a clean basket.

something flung from the corner of your eye and you looked over to see dominic with an incredulous look of amusement on his face before he burst into laughter and picked up another pair of your seamless panties.

"dominic, what the hell are you doing?" you sputter, "are those clean?" as if that's the biggest issue at hand.

"i don't know, i got 'em from this basket." he laughed, flinging the next pair towards you and you flinch before they land on your head. you huff and snatch them off your head, balling them in your hand and standing up.

"stop playing with my panties, dominic. i thought you were laying down in the room!" you gasp, picking up the other panties off the floor while he laughs and runs away.

there was a pair you couldn’t find and you just gave up, not even bothering to waste time looking for them. you’d have him find it later.

today was going to be a long day, you think to yourself while you watch his form retreat back to the bedroom. it was rare that he got in these teasing moods and usually, you didn't mind but you don't think you have the patience for it today.

it's not until you've finished the laundry and put everything away that dominic showed his face again. using a spatula to spread the face mask on, wrapped in a robe, hair tied up and out of the way, dom pokes his head in the bathroom to look at you.

"sorry for being annoying," he gives you those puppy dog brown eyes and you want to roll your eyes so bad but you can't when those butterflies are fluttering through your stomach.

it takes you a minute to respond. you just look at him through the mirror, putting the spatula down and a soft smile spreads on your lips. your head tilts and you nod, "it's okay, dom." you can't help but chuckle. the ridiculousness of the situation was too funny. only dominic.

"you look hot." he deadpans. and you know he's lying. the green goop of a face mask dripping from your face, making a mess everywhere on the sink. but you laugh anyway.

“thank you. wanna do skincare with me?"

and of course, he’s down. ever the supporter of all things you, he sits patiently on the toilet while you paint his face with the goo. his nimble fingers find their way under the skirt of your robe to the waistband of your panties, snapping the material lightly on your skin.

“i thought i asked you to stop playing with my panties.” you can’t help but crack a smile.

he sighs and looks up at you with those brown doe eyes, “my fault,” making you laugh with pure adoration for the boy.

and so you finish his mask. while he’s checking himself out in the mirror, you begin to run a bath. he’s making noises from behind you, posing as you can see from the corner of your eye.

“what are you doing?” you ask, testing the water with the pads of your fingers under the faucet.

“i look like jason or something.” he pounces on you, shaking you playfully. he leans in to kiss you and you hesitate because your masks, causing his jaw to drop in offense. “what the hell was that?!”

you laugh, shaking your head, “just be careful. our masks are still drying.” and you lean in for a peck of the lips, cautious but sweet.

“i’m glad you’re here,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around his waist. all the gym’s been doing him good, you can feel the muscle building under his tan skin. he’s been warmer, healthier, happier. you’re so proud of him.

“thank you for putting up with me.” he responds, pushing the stray hairs back from your updo, smoothing them down. he always liked holding your head. you’re not entirely sure why.

a quiet moment ensues, just the sound of the water filling up the tub while you enjoy each other’s company, looking into each other’s eyes.

before you realize something.

“did you ever find where you flung my panties?”

“shit.”

#dominic fike x reader #dominic fike #elliot x reader #euphoria x reader

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austinbutlerslovers · 3 months

Text

Austins Bath

Label Mature 18+

Austin likes when you run him a bath, he enjoys it even more when you bathe him, and he loves it the most when you pleasure him while he’s in the tub.

Established relationship girlfriend

Edging•handjob•fingering•shower sex•simultaneous orgasm•creampie

💝 Starts fluff ends up smut❤️‍🔥

Austin Butler, Interview Mag

Austins Bath

Austin loves to take baths, he appreciates them extensively. Often stiff and sore after working out and combat training or mentally exhausted doing interviews and having constant conversations at events. Resting in a bath soaking peacefully for him is a calming reprieve.

He asks you to start one for him after his long day of doing back to back interviews for multiple syndicates and tv shows.

He is constantly promoting with his cast mates for his latest movie. He answers the same questions in different ways dozens of times, always polite always consistent. It’s mentally exciting yet exhausting.

He’s recently increased your task from filling the bath to now bathing him in it. As the water fills you add his two favorites epsom salt and a dollop of his L’occitane foaming wash. You place a stack of rolled wash cloths on the side and light a few of his favorite scented candles around the tub.

As you lay his robe and towel on the stand next to the bath, you realize how much you are internally compelled to baby and pamper him. He is a fully grown adult man, but with his sweet nature and innocent face he always has you doing the most domestic tasks excitedly for him.

“Austin your bath is ready” you call to him when it’s filled. He walks in smiling gleefully and begins peeling off all of his clothing until he’s completely naked. You watch him climb into the tub. He sinks down in the warm water and it rises to his chest. You can already see his face softening as he gets comfortable.

With a relaxed sigh he tilts his head back over the edge of the tub exposing his throat. It’s sexy to see and you try to ignore it and resume your tasks.

You turn on a second nozzle that releases water from a sprayer and rise his hair squishing your hands through his locks making sure they are fully rinsed then turning it off.

You squeeze his favorite shampoo into your hands and lather it into his hair starting at his temples. He makes light sounds of pleasure as your fingers scratch through his scalp and you begin to lose focus becoming aroused.

He brings his hand out of the water and playfully pinches your nipple making you gasp, your chest is directly over his face. He pinches your other nipple as you try to continue lathering his hair. “Austin!” You grin as you chastise him trying to work. He smirks knowing he’s already arousing you.

You have him lift up as you hook a basin to the edge of the tub. He tilts his head back and you rinse his hair over the basin with the spray nozzle ridding his hair of all the shampoo. You unhook the basin and pour it into the drain of the adjacent shower.

You kneel back next to him at the tub and comb your fingers through his clean wet hair gently massaging his scalp. His eyes are closed with a smile of delight on his face as he just enjoys it.

You squirt body wash on his loofah and have him stand out of the water. You work your way down his fit toned body starting with his neck. When you press too hard on the soft spot next to his abs he giggles. You look up at him grinning he’s enjoying this especially what’s next his favorite part.

You put down the loofah and inhale sharply as you begin to clean on and around his cock with your soapy hand. You try to ignore the heat radiating from your reddened face and the urge to have it between your legs.

You glide your sudsy hand on his testis cupping and massaging them, then you squeeze up and down his shaft before rubbing your thumb over and around his slit and his tip cleaning him throughly.

“You’re so professional“ he finally says breaking the silence. He smiles down at you seeing you trying so hard to remain focused even though you’re clearly aroused. “Turn around ” you say trying to ignore all the thoughts forming in your mind.

He turns facing the wall and places his palms against it spacing his legs apart. You soak a wash cloth and start at his strong muscular shoulders scrubbing down each one to his small waist line.

You dip the wash cloth in the bath water and slide it through his cute crack. When he winces it makes you giggle. “So sensitive” you coo at him gaining the upper hand. His face is blushing bright red when you finish. “You’re such a shy baby” you tease him.

He just turns and grins at you then splashes back down into the water feeling clean. You place a dry folded wash cloth on edge of the tub and have him rest his head back against it.

Usually you tidy up and leave him at peace. This time he stops you. “I’m not finished ” he says grabbing your wrist. You lock eyes with him as he guides your hand under the water onto his submerged cock. He’s extremely hard.

“ Oh!” you say aloud, the skin is soft but his erection is like a brick. Holding his shaft you make a fist around it guiding up and down on him, slowly at first.

He rests his head back against the tub feeling weaker the longer you tug and squeeze on his cock. “Make me cum” he says desperate for release. His eyes are closed as he grips the edges of the tub with his hands to prepare.

You slide your fist up and down his shaft harder you watch his face change from tense to passionate. You go faster pumping his shaft under the water until he’s moaning from it and failing to catch his breath.

He holds the edges of the tub tighter as the water splashes louder from your movements. You want to make him cum and he’s so close. His body tenses as his cock strains in you grasp.

He tilts his head up and groans loudly echoing the bathroom. His abs tighten and he ejaculates releasing all of his sperm in fluid bursts into the bath. You watch the cloud of his cum quickly dissolve into the water. He rests his head back against the tub panting. His chest is heaving his face is flushed pink. he looks radiantly beautiful.

His cock begins to soften in your hand. As you watch it he draws your attention with his voice.

“You like watching me cum don’t you” he says with a grin. You squeeze your knees together next to the tub thinking about it. “Yes I do” you admit. You admire his handsome relaxed features, his eyes are so soft now. “C’mere“ he says gesturing you over.

You move closer and he reaches his hands up to cup your jaw pulling you into a soft chaste kiss. He places his strong hand on your back and suddenly pulls you side ways yanking you into the bath water with him.

“AUSTIN!” You shriek you are fully soaked on top of him. “You enjoy my cum so much bathe in it” he says with a grin. You both let out the cutest laughs. The mood changes as you lock eyes in sexual tension. You sit up and strip off your soaked top throwing it out of the tub. It smacks wetly on the floor.

He pulls you down to kiss him and holds your body against his around your torso. You begin grinding your soaked clothed heat against him trying to get sexual relief from friction but the water makes it impossible. He reaches a hand and clicks the tub to drain

You climb off of him and out of the tub. As soon as he steps out you kiss him again. He holds your head absorbing all of your hunger filled kisses walking you back into the shower. He fumbles trying to find the handle, without looking he turns it on. He finally breaks your kiss to kneel down and strip your soaked pants and panties off.

You have so much passion for him you feel it in your throat. The wet clothing clings to your legs as he strips you down.

When he stands again he pushes you back against the shower wall pressing his palm on your chest. “How do you want me to make you cum?” He asks because you just made him shoot his load in the bath water. “With your fingers” you say instantly. He lifts your leg placing your foot on the shower bench spreading you open. He keeps his hand pressed to your chest and steps closer making you feel erotically trapped.

You are already wet he slips his fingers down your folds and rubs against your clit. you curl up instantly so overstimulated from sexual arousal “So sensitive” he coos at you as he smiles. He begins rubbing circles around your entrance making you pant.

You are bucking your hips wantingto be filled with his fingers but he keeps you at bay pressing his hand on your chest. He doesn’t relent to your neediness, not even once, he takes his time circling your entrance at a pace that has you going insane with lust.

He switches to using his entire hand when you are thoroughly wet. He slips it up and down through your soaked mons separating your pussy lips with his fingers “Austin please fuck me with your fingers” you gasp.

The urge to be filled by them consuming all of your rational thought. “Such a dirty little mouth, you think you deserve a reward after that?” He stares at you sternly but his lips are curved in a smile. You look up at him fighting every sexual urge in your body to calm down “Austin please satisfy me with your fingers” You ask politely and he grins.

He lines up two at your tiny hole and pushes them in. It instantly begins relieving the tension built up in your body as he pumps them into you. He gathers your hands pinning them above your head against the tiles. You feel like his little sex puppet as he fingers you relentlessly. Your moans echo the shower filling his ears and teasing his cock as he pumps his fingers in and out of you faster.

You begin to twist your wrists trying to free your hands to reach his growing erection.

He finally releases your hands and lunges into you with a kiss. He holds your thigh up against the wall and holds the base of his cock to guide it inside of you.

He thrusts forward. It feels so tight as he penetrates between your legs stuffing you full of his cock. You let out a string of pleasurable moans in appreciation.

He begins working his hips thrusting you back against the tiles. You moan his name and cling onto him as you feel the tightness in you reaching its peak.

He pulls you onto him still holding your thigh up and pounds into you harder. You feel his muscled body jolting against yours as he thrusts tipping you over the edge.

You moan against his ear and he starts to orgasm with you.

He groans with you in unison reverberating the shower walls. He fills you with warm cum as you orgasm on his cock. His final thrusts are harder to drain himself completely. He slows down and lowers you to the ground as he slides his cock out.

He smiles at you and plants a kiss on your jaw pulling you under the shower water with him.

You will bathe him religiously.

~*End*~

Master List

.🏷️ @faegoddessog @purejasmine @obsessedvibee @abswifey @austiebuttbutt @jessica987 @oh-my-front-door @slowsweetlove @hardcoredisneynerd @magicovento

#austin butler fandom #austin butler #austin butler x you #austin butler reader #austin butler x reader #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler smut #austinbutler #austin butler fic #austin butler smut fic #masters of the air #fanfic #smut #austin butler x fem!reader #austin butler imagine #austinbutler x #fluff #fluff and smut

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hanasnx · 7 months

Text

scott barringer headcanons.

MINORS DNI 18+

WARNINGS: enemies (?) to lovers | flirting | mentioned: fingering

He's a hot, new commodity on the Horizon market. At least two girls you know have their sights set on him. It's clear how gorgeous he is, but you tried to keep your distance. The last thing you wanna focus on is some boy with his own set of problems. Fate finds a way. Every time you'd pull back, it'd draw you in, pairing you with him on chores more often than not, conversation was inevitable. You had a suspicions it's because neither of you are particularly chatty, and staff thinks you're less likely to cause an upset. "Ever done a campfire?" he taunts. The sick innuendo makes you scoff, tearing up grass while you sit on the ground with him. "You just say things to shock people, don't you?" you remark. You brush your hair back, and he keeps his gaze on you. "What else is there?" his reply is wry, and you roll your eyes at him.

When you break the rules together, you serve the time together. Which means you and Scott work alongside each other scrubbing the bathroom floors. "What? Afraid to break a nail or something?" he tosses the phrase at you, regurgitated from the other misogynists he's heard it from. "Shut up, Barringer," you reply, just as unenthusiastic. The latex gloves catch on your manicure as you slide them on. "I'm not doing all this by myself. So make yourself useful." The vision of him on his knees is truly a sight to behold, the sudsy brush in his large hand. You have half a mind to kick him over by his chest, just to see what he'd do. It's not like you to exercise empathy, more like experimentation bred out of sick fascination. Besides, he deserves it. Him and his sour attitude. "Just get started without me." you tell him with a pinch of your shoulder, waving him off with a flick of your wrist. "Yeah," he scoffs. "you'd like that, wouldn't you?" He slaps the brush onto the tile, soap splatting out. You flinch, narrowly evading a stray splash on your shoes. "Watch it!" you admonish, "You almost got it on my Birks!" There’s an air of silence but you’re positive you can hear his eye roll. You have to fill it as you gingerly get down onto your knees next to him, dusting off your hands after. “I don’t get why we have to do chores. The amount of money my daddy’s paying for this place they should be able to afford a maid service.” "Yeah, I wouldn't expect daddy's little princess to understand."

Even if he makes it hard, you and him do manage to get closer organically. It came in the ways he mocked you for your upbringing or your supposed stupidity. Scott has a lot to complain about, evidently. It blossoms into a sort of teenage fantasy. You let him get away with messing with you because you kinda like it. Little excuses to talk to you, bump you, tug on your hair. It's not long before he's messing with you more physically too. Less plausibly deniable.

When things start heating up, you find yourself unable to stay away from him. The first time you kiss begins a torrid affair. Full of tugging him into dark corners to make out, sneaking off to the woods for “inappropriate touching” as the rules so clearly state to stave off of. He’s so frustrating all you wanna do is shut him up and make him useful. He’s a god at fingering you, makes quick work of it too, even if he is clumsy.

There’s not much he won’t do to get your attention on him, he can't stand when it's anywhere else when he wants it. A bag of frozen veggies in his hand while you reach for it. "C'mon, is that how high you can jump?" "Scott!" you scold, balancing on the tips of your toes as you brace a hand on his chest. "Gimme it." Each time you crest, he moves it out of your way. You don't notice him sneak a hand around your waist, spinning you so your back is flush against him. His body curls around you, his cheek against your head as you weakly fight him off, using his arm to propel yourself up for the bag. "Will you forget the vegetables already?" He tosses them behind the two of you, but keeps you in place when you try to chase them, nuzzling his nose into your neck in search of skin to latch onto.

#indy: headcanons #ch: scott #scott barringer headcanons #scott barringer x reader #scott barringer x reader smut #scott barringer x f!reader #scott barringer x f!reader smut #scott barringer smut #scott barringer x you #scott barringer x you smut #scott barringer imagine #reader insert

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thecuriousquest · 8 months

Note

Can I ask for another mha character (of your choice) with mouth washing punishment? I’ve never seen someone write it aswell as you! And how are u at the moment?? ❤️ x

Dirty Mouth

Platonic Yandere Dad Bakugou x Teen Fem!Reader

Tag List: @issamomma @repostingmyfavs @chickennugnugnug

Warnings: Platonic yandere themes, mouth washing with soap, threats of punishments, mentioning of spanking with a switch

Author’s Note: Aw, stop it, you little rascal. You’re making me blush. 😊 I’m doing great over on the East Coast. I hope you’re doing well, and much love to you! 🖤🤘

Checkout my Master List here.

—————————————————————————

Your “dad”, as he forces you to call him, is busy cooking dinner in the kitchen behind you. You hear him talking about you on the phone to Kirishima, how he’s gushing about your test scores and your good behavior. You’re absolutely fucking sick of it.

Of course you’ve been good! What other choice do you have? It’s either that or be punished by one of the greatest pros in Japan. It makes you sick to your stomach thinking about how he made you cut a switch in the backyard the last time your attitude was “bitchy” as he so graciously put it.

Bakugou brings the conversation to an end, sticking a bowl of ramen in front of you. You have to hand it to the man, he can cook up a storm. However, you’d rather buy the ramen from somewhere than have it given to you by the hand of your captor.

“Thanks,” you tell the blonde while looking at the bowl in front of you.

Fuck, it smells so good, yet you hesitate to dig into the warm deliciousness.

He gruffly sits down at the head of the table before snapping apart a pair of chopsticks. He begins eating.

Katsuki looks at you with a glare when he realizes you haven’t even started.

“What’s wrong?” He doesn’t sound happy.

“Did you put something in it?”

He shrugs as if it’s normal to put something in your kid’s food. “Just something to help relax you. You’ve been on edge ever since you got here.”

“I’ve been on edge? I’VE BEEN ON EDGE? Are you shitting me right now? You’re the one who stole me!”

“I didn’t fucking steal you, and don’t talk to me like that! You were at the police station, and I offered them to take you home so that you wouldn’t end up in a fucking orphanage, so lower your goddamn voice and quit acting like I’m some villain!”

“You are a fucking villain! You put drugs in my food to make me fall asleep, and you force me to do homeschooling, and-”

You rack your brain for more things he’s done to you since you’ve been here, but your “dad” cuts you off.

“Yeah, I’m the bad guy for making sure you don’t turn into an insomniac. I’m such a horrible person for making sure your grades stay up. Keep going, sweetie.”

You swipe at the tears forming in your eyes. God, he makes you feel insane and so damned frustrated!

“I fucking hate you!”

You get up from the table and run towards the stairs when a pair of arms wrap around your torso, lifting you off the ground. Adjusting you in his hold, he tucks you under one arm, snugly against his hip. Your eyes widen as you find yourself looking at the floor.

“Put me down! I don’t like this!”

You cling onto his baggy pants for security. He could let you go at any moment, and you don’t like the thought of landing harshly on your knees if he does.

You hear a door open, and then the large man turns on his heel as he closes it. The familiarity of what’s happening comes rushing back to you, and you try to shut it all out as you are set on your feet.

“I’m too old to be treated like this, Bakugou!” you shout as you clench your fists.

“Shut up, kid. You’re fifteen, and you know better than to call me that. You know better than to cuss at me too.”

He rummages around in the cabinet for your doom. He pulls out something that’s just as bad as the paddle end of a wooden brush: the dreaded bar of soap. The explosion hero gets the bar of soap all sudsy under the running faucet. He shuts off the water and brings the bar up to your lips, and you clamp your mouth shut.

“You wanna do this the hard way?”

Your eyes can only speak for you, and you hope the fear you express in them is enough to sway him.

All he does is grimace at you, his lips set in a firm line. He snatches your jaw, thumb digging into your right cheek while the other four fingers press into your left. The pressure where the line of your teeth meet only grows stronger as you attempt to keep your mouth closed.

However, you know him well enough by now. He won’t give up until he gets what he wants. He never does.

Your sharp cry sounds akin to a beagle’s as he finally pries your mouth open wide enough to shove the soap in. You gag instantaneously at the clean taste of the bar.

Trying to fight against the bulk of muscles leads you nowhere, except being forced to sit on the toilet lid. To your horror, this isn’t even the worst of it. He begins scrubbing the inside of your mouth, washing away all of the filth you’ve been spewing. What a fucking hypocrite.

The bar of soap shreds against your teeth with all of the scrubbing, curling and melting on your tongue. The accumulation of saliva and soap turns into built up foam, causing it to leak from your mouth.

“Lift your tongue up. Do it or I’ll beat your ass.”

No, no more punishment, you try to say. It comes out in a gurgled, incomprehensible mess.

Your “dad” works the bar of soap underneath your tongue. He covers every inch and corner of the cavern. You feel like you’re going to throw up with the amount of gagging you’re going through, but you know that he’ll really kick your ass if you do that.

Your body slumps in defeat, knowing that you can’t get away from him as he holds the back of your neck in a firm grip. There’s nothing you can do to fight him off or get away from him, so you sit there and wail like a six year old with tears, snot, and soap dripping down your face.

With your head pounding from all of the crying and screaming, he finally releases you and tells you to rinse your mouth out.

“You’re lucky I’m not making you finish dinner with your mouth as it is. I could send you to bed like that too you know.”

As tough as he likes to make himself out to be, you know he’d never do that to you. Under all of that macho male bravado, there is a heart, even if it is a little twisted.

Still, you can’t help but feel distraught as you struggle to rid your mouth of the lingering taste. It’s as if every ounce of water you take in causes the amount of bubbles to rise. Eventually, you do spit out the last of the soap, but that clean, funky tang stays with you.

“Alright, that’s enough.”

“But, it won’t go away!”

“You arguing with me?” he inquires as he quirks a blonde eyebrow.

“No, sir.”

Handing you a towel, you dry your face and pout from not being able to get rid of the overwhelming taste. Looking up at the pro hero with watery eyes, you rub your runny nose with the towel.

He leans against the doorjamb with crossed arms. “Got anything to say to me?”

“I’m sorry…Dad.” You know better than to call him anything else in this moment.

His smirk is one of satisfaction as he stands up straight, bringing you into his arms. You lean your head against his chest, holding onto his shirt for comfort.

He might have won this battle, but the war isn’t over yet.

#yandere #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere themes #triggering content #triggering themes #platonic yandere father #platonic yandere bakugou #bnha katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #yandere katsuki bakugou #yandere katsuki #yandere katsuki x reader #my hero acedamia #boku no hero academia

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janicekao · 19 days

Text

Fear

Pairing: Pennywise/Bill Skarsgard x Black oc (dark smut) Summary: Going after his next victim: a little boy named Booker Jones, Pennywise the clown becomes intrigued by his older sister instead, and no... what he is hungry for is not her fear. Warnings: Horror, violence, entity, monster, monster s3x, rough s3x, dub!con, cnc, age gap, dark romance, smut, tummy bulge k!nk, dom&femsub cr3am pie, etc. 7130 words Wattpad link:

Enjoy my babies <3 ----------------------------------

Rumors have begun to spread that Pennywise the clown has returned back to Derry.

But who would believe the rumors being that they were coming from kids? Being gossiped around Elementary and Middle schools.

As children started to disappear again, the adults of Derry have also picked up on believing in this rumor, but luckily most of them have common sense.

Although this myth of a supernatural clown has been told in Derry for hundreds of years, the adults have been in contact with the police thinking that instead of something as crazy as a fictitious clown, some insane Pennywise fanatic has entered the town and is preying on children to keep the fable alive.

"He lives in the sewers."

"He can reach you through the drains of your house."

"He can make you hallucinate and you will see awful things to frighten you."

"He survives off of fear."

Sadly, the children are more than right.

Worst of all, they are going unheard. Parents are ignoring them as they search for what makes the most sense to them, a psychotic murderous pedophile on the loose.

And as the adults of Derry waste their time not believing in the supernatural, Pennywise is preparing to strike again.

Booker Jones, an eight year old boy is Pennywise's next victim.

Pennywise has been stalking his dreams, showing up each day at the boy's school, and whispering through the drains of his home.

Pennywise is infatuated with Booker's fear. Each time he plays with the young child's mind, his mouth waters with excitement to devour the boy and absorb his fear to keep him alive.

It's almost time now.

Booker has told his friends and family... But no one believes him. His parents tell him to stop listening to the gossip of the town because of how bad he's getting nightmares now. Little do they know, Pennywise is sizing him and getting his levels of fear exactly where he wants them to be.

Sunday nights are usually Booker's bath nights. Finally ready for Pennywise's taking, the clown plans on slithering inhumanely through the drain and drag Booker to his death into the sewers where Pennywise will consume his fear and let his decaying body be found in the streams that lead out of the tunnels of Derry.

As Pennywise listens into the pipes of the Jones' house, at eight-pm he finally hears the bath running... he knows that his time to feast, is now.

Pennywise slithers quietly through the pipes, opening his eyes in the sudsy lukewarm water as he expects to see the tiny feet and draggable legs of an eight year old boy...

The clown nearly gasps, almost choking on water as the gaze of his eyes latch onto the spread legs of a young woman...

Confusion takes over his mind, never once has he ever had to take a pause during one of his killings.

Still watching from the impossibly deep pits of the filled tub, Pennywise watches long brown legs soak in the sweetly fragrant bath. The girl's toes are painted a light pink and she taps her feet lightly to what seems to be music coming from her headphones.

What disgruntles Pennywise the most is the powers coming from between her thighs... he even momentarily begins to think that maybe, just maybe, she could be a supernatural herself.

Pennywise is hungry... Usually for fear, but this time, for a taste of the soft flesh between her legs.

Peaking out of the water for just a moment, he craves to see the face of the enchanting creature.

The girl nods her head to the rhythm of the music, luckily eyes closed as she relaxes... Because if they opened, they'd view upon the gray crumbling skin, patchy red hair, and demonic yellow eyes of Pennywise, and surely would die of a heart attack on the spot.

Pennywise is puzzled by her beauty...

Full dark brown curls drenching at the ends as she soaks in the water, face red and blushing due to the humidity of the bathroom, full lips, long eyelashes, and breasts large... nipples upturned and beaming with water droplets...

Fucking hell...

She isn't a child... no, she isn't a child at all.

What Pennywise didn't realize about Booker Jones, is that he has a sister. Quinn Jones, an older sister, age twenty, and home from college for Summer Break.

Tonight won't be the night for feeding after all... However, Pennywise can't leave without a taste, of something.

Seeping back into the drain, the clown's unbelievably long snake-like tongue slithers between Quinn's legs, swiping a powerful lick that goes from the crack of her bottom, through her folds, and to the delicious flesh of her clit.

She immediately gasps. Breath hitched in her throat as her eyes dart open. She flips her headphones from off of the top of her head and frantically kicks her legs, searching for what violated her in such way... however, the bath is empty.

As Pennywise ventures back into the sewers, the taste of Quinn stays on his tongue... a taste that he will forever crave until his dying day.

—•—

Pennywise paces the sewers, mind full of thoughts about the girl.

He isn't used to this feeling... and being an evil entity born Before Christ, he doesn't understand why after all these years, obstacles are now getting into his way?

He hears the snickering of preteens walking through the sewers with flashlights, probably dared by each other to see who is the bravest to meet the myth of Pennywise...

Sadly for the youngins, there is fear that Pennywise needs to feast upon, and once they lay eyes upon his stature of eight-feet tall, his dingy and torn clown costume, and his shards of glass like teeth, fear is exactly what they will have plenty of.

Pennywise tears them to shreds, consuming each drop of their fear. Finally becoming full and energized, he can prepare to tackle the obstacle known as Quinn Jones.

For the first time ever, Pennywise doesn't want to cause fright. He is so curious about the beauty that he just wants to be around her, to know her... However, if push comes to shove, killing her works just as well.

But to get close to the girl without her fleeing from him, he can not appear to her as a clown...

He once would appear human at times around the town of Derry, in his opinion his human form is a handsome man...

But being that the last time he tried this appearance was nearly sixty years ago, it's probably best to appear as something the girl could be attracted to nowadays.

He will have to appear as young as she is. In his twenties, charming, handsome, less forehead, less evil grin, and just more modern all together.

Contorting his appearance into what he needs to be, he finally becomes satisfied with his look as he stares at his reflection in the shard of a broken mirror, dumped in the sewers like the rest of the trash around him.

"This'll do." He finally agrees with what he sees. "This'll do just fine."

—•—

Before being able to show himself, Pennywise wants to be familiar with the girl he plans on meeting.

What does a clown who only knows of murder know about charming a girl?

For weeks of the summer, Pennywise quietly stalks Quinn until he knows her every detail.

Quinn even begins to think that her little brother's irrational fear of Pennywise the clown is rubbing off on her, ever since she's been home she sees the clown in her dreams...

He fills her every thought and at night as she sleeps, Quinn even feels him in the corner of her room.

She thinks that she's just going crazy, but she is far from crazy. Pennywise is using his abilities to infiltrate Quinn's mind, as he does his victims. But instead of frightening her, he just wants her to know of his existence.

Finally mustering up the courage to meet Quinn, things go surprisingly smoother than Pennywise could ever have expected.

In his new appearance, Pennywise purposely runs into her as she grocery shops dinner for her family. He compliments her, asks about the music she is listening to in her headphones, and lies that they are too his favorite band.

He enjoys speaking with her for the very first time... It is like a breath of fresh air.

Pennywise introduces himself to the girl as "Bill", a twenty-seven year old accountant who is interested in taking her out on a date.

Impressed by the man's charm and their almost impossible similarities, Quinn quickly accepts.

Over weeks of hanging out with each other daily, a bond has began to grow. They trust each other and Pennywise enjoys hearing her talk for as long as she wants to.

Each day that he picks her up from the Jones' residence, Quinn's blushing cheeks proves each time that his plan is working, it proves that the girl is crushing on him as much as Pennywise is crushing on her.

A month of knowing each other passes quickly being that the two have become immediately infatuated with each other.

Today, to celebrate a month together, Pennywise has planned a night at a drive in movie theater... a perfect place for romance, and to also scope out the scenery for potential children he can feasts upon when he's ready to.

Wearing a brown mesh dress that fits her body to perfection and compliments her mahogany skin beautifully, Quinn answers Pennywise's knock to her front door.

Pennywise can barely speak... Awed by her beauty, he can barely breathe.

She smiles. "Do I look okay?"

Voice sweet as candy, his heart begins to melt.

"Yes Quinn." He gulps. "More than okay, absolutely perfect."

She blushes. Quinn reaches up on the tips of her heels to place a kiss on the cheek of his handsome face.

She accepts his flowers. "Happy one month, Bill."

—•—

As Pennywise discretely digs through the wallets of his previous victims, he also drives a stolen car.

He impresses the girl with his willingness to care for her, to pay for all of their dates... although nothing that he has belongs to him, not even his own appearance.

Parked in front of the large movie screen, the two share a bucket of popcorn.

Pennywise listens to Quinn as she talks about her last year of college coming up in August. She'll then graduate and become a local Elementary School Teacher here in Derry.

As if she were made just for him. Pennywise's lips nearly begin to drool. Oh what perfect career for her... this way they'll never be apart, she can bring him the kids, and he absorbs their fear.

Curious with her thoughts on the rumored clown of Derry, Pennywise brings it up in conversation, wondering will he forever have to keep up with this appearance around her, or if one day she can accept him as he is.

"Like most adults, I don't believe in entities and things that just don't make practical sense." She shrugs. "But ever since I've been home in Derry, I too have had many thoughts of this clown... it started with my little brother's nightmares, he was sure this evil clown was out to get him... So as a big sister would, I comforted him, calmed his nerves, and reminded him that everything would be okay. But recently, something tells me that the myth of the clown may be true. It's like I can feel him, like he's always near to me... Like I know him personally."

Quinn smiles, shrugging off the goosebumps caused by just the thought of Pennywise the clown. "But honestly there is something else I'd rather talk to you about..."

Chomping on a hand full of popcorn, Pennywise agrees. "Sure, go ahead."

"Bill..." She gulps. "We've been seeing each other for a month now, and I'm a bit confused on where we stand... I go back to school in a month, I'd just like to know if I'm going back single, or is this something... more?"

Pennywise frowns.

Has he not been clear?

"You're mine." The only words he can conjure up at the thought of Quinn seeing anyone else.

Blush heating her cheeks, she accepts his answer with the prettiest smile. "I can be yours."

He nods. "Good."

Taking the popcorn to the floor of the car, Quinn reaches over to kiss Pennywise. Their lips meet, and their affection and adoration for each other melts into each of their breaths.

Although they have taken things very slow over summer, they still have had a few gentle kisses every now and then. But Pennywise realizes that this kiss is a bit different...

Quinn moans into his full lips, body closing in on him in the driver seat of the car as she clearly hungers for more.

His heart begins to beat out of his chest and his human form suffers with keeping up with the seducing kiss.

Pulling away from her, Pennywise watches her almost startled, confused by the bite she has to her full bottom lip yet his pants grow as she squirms in needy arousal.

He gulps. "Quinn, the movie?"

"I'd rather watch you." Her voice drips with seduction as her hand unzips the front of his pants.

Quinn calms his worry as her other hand caresses the back of his neck gently. "If I'm yours, let me take care of you Bill."

He watches puzzled, with a racing heartbeat, however he allows Quinn to do whatever she wants with him.

Quinn gracefully tucks her full mane of curls onto the other side of her shoulder as she bows into his lap.

Her lips line with his up-turned erection as she sweetly kisses the tip of his cock, staining it with her pink strawberry flavored lipgloss.

Staring down at his handsomely perfect member, thoughts of having him inside her chokes her mind. The best looking cock she's ever seen in her life, for now she'll satisfy her hunger with just his taste.

Hallowing out her cheeks, Quinn takes him fully into her mouth. Slowly wetting his cock with her spit as she gently tugs his shaft lubed with her drool.

Breaths caught in Pennywise's throat as he watches his sweetheart take him completely in her throat. Her delicious moans and sweetly scented perfume plagues his mind, he can't control the groans coming from the depths of his stomach.

She feels fucking perfect to him. Willing to choke herself to tears for his pleasure, he knows that he absolutely loves the girl.

As Quinn continues to slurp, stroke, and suck, Pennywise can't control the bucking of his hips. Gently fucking into her throat at the rhythm that he needs.

Quinn opens her eyes, peering up at him with her innocent doll like eyes as she slaps his cock on her drooling wet tongue.

His eyes roll back into his skull.. "Quinn.." He gulps. "Honey I—"

Forcing him deeper into her throat, Quinn inhales his balls along with the entirety of his cock.

Coughing and dripping mascara as her only care is to bring him to a pleasured finish

Fucking hell... he can't take it. Never having this sense of pleasure in his impossibly long lifetime, he feels the need to explode.

Noticing her deep arch in the passenger seat of the car, Pennywise can't help but to run his hand onto her firm backside, slapping her ass as she sucks his cock with absolute perfection.

His mouth hangs ajar as the pressure to cum continues to build. Stomach tightened as he listens to her intoxicating chokes and moans, he can't hold out any longer.

Quinn takes him into her throat once more as he blows his load.

He shouts a pleasured groan as the cum bursts streams into her mouth and down her pretty chin.

The pleasure is too much for him to handle, Pennywise loses focus on his appearance... and absolutely drops it.

He watches Quinn's satisfied smile turn into eyes of fear as he begins to reveal his truest form.

"P-Pennywise.." The shock causes her face to whiten into a pale fright.

He smiles, the jingle of his bells chiming out of thin air. "Pennywise, The Dancing Clown!"

—•—

Thrashing around in the arms of the clown, Pennywise leaves the car for the nearest city drain.

Crying and shouting to be let go, he doesn't listen to her once.

"Close your eyes." He calmly demands. "It'll hurt a lot less."

Fearing for her life. Quinn tightens her eyes closed as she notices them slipping into the sewer drain.

She knows it's impossible for them to fit and expects to be squashed to death... But underestimating the powers of Pennywise, gets her nowhere. As she opens her eyes, she's surprisingly unharmed and in the sewer tunnels of Derry.

As she's being carried, she notices her dangling legs nowhere near the ground being that her date has grown into a whopping eight feet tall.

As she cries and continues to lash out, Pennywise isn't phased or harmed by her gentle fists. However, he doesn't know how to calm her...

When he's killing for the absorption of fear, he would have snapped his victim's neck by now, but not wanting to hurt Quinn... he's at a loss for a next step.

Taking her to the driest and deepest part of the sewers, he leaves Quinn by herself beside a pile of his victim's belongings.

She becomes a mess of frightened tears as she looks up at the massive pile, noticing the floating children in Pennywise's possession, decaying and have been hanging there for many, many years.

As hours pass, and night darkens.

Pennywise decides to revisit Quinn. He finds her exhausted from tears and asleep in a dirty corner, however he's glad that she is calm.

He never wanted this to happen, but now that he's infatuated with her he can't let her go.

Waking up from her stressful nap, Quinn is startled by his quiet watching in the pipes of the sewer.

Balling herself up into bended knees, she refuses to even look at him.

He jumps down, creating a cloud of dust around him as he lands right in front of her.

"Open your eyes." He demands. "See me as I am."

"As what?" She argues. "Accept that you're Pennywise the clown? Or accept that you're a liar?"

Her smart tongue aggravates him as he forces her into his strict yellow gaze. "Everything I've said, I've meant."

"You're a murderer." Tears of sadness wet her cheeks.

"Don't bring up what you don't understand." He denies being called such things.

"You were after my brother weren't you?" She continues. "You wanted to kill him! Turn him into the children above-"

"But I didn't." He interrupts. "And I won't."

She scoffs. "You have been an entirely different man since I've known you, how am I ever to believe a word that you say!"

"Because you'll just have to trust me." His voice although sensitive to her fear, he is clearly demanding and intimidating. "Do it, because you don't have any other choice to."

Rolling her eyes, clearly heartbroken and confused, Quinn attempts to leave.

Stretching his arm like taffy, Pennywise pulls her back to him from many feet away.

Can't she see that he's inhuman? Whatever she does he can correct without even dropping a bead of sweat.

She can't win, and she never will.

Pennywise softens his stare into something less threatening... He slowly bends to the crook of Quinn's neck, placing gentle kisses on her skin. "I am still me."

Uncomfortable with his caress, Quinn begins to frown.

He continues to press his lips to her body and Quinn quickly realizes that she isn't uncomfortable with his kiss at all, she's uncomfortable with enjoying it... Uncomfortable with still feeling safe with a creature that shouldn't even exist.

Pennywise pulls from his kiss and watches her quiet expression... he feels hopeful, now that she's trembling less and her eyes have softened.

He wants to tell her that he loves her, but it just isn't in his character to say something so forward.

"Do I still call you Bill?"Her voice meek and sweet makes his heart beat loudly.

"Pennywise." He responds.

"Will you take me home Penny?"Pennywise shuts his eyes, soul melting at the cute nickname she has quickly came up for him.

Pennywise becomes hungry, wanting to give her what he received in the car.

"Yes Quinn, you'll go home." He whispers sweetly pressed against her face. "Right after I return the favor."

Tearing the panties from her body, Pennywise pins her wrists above her head.

She gasps, squirming in refusal. "No! Please Pennywise, I don't want that!"

Widening her legs her dripping cunt says otherwise.

Pennywise's insanely long tongue swipes between her thighs as he did the first time he met her.

She gasps, body arching in pleasure... Quinn remembers that feeling immediately. "It was you, i-in the bathtub."

Grinning deviously he nods. "Of course, who else could give you a kiss below like that?"

His mouth returns to her sweet succulent flesh. He's wanted badly to feast on this pussy for so many days now.

Hands forcing her dress above her chest, his eyes widen at her perky breasts... nipples hardened and painfully aroused.

Biting a glove off of his hand, he bites his lip as he enjoys the skin to skin contact of caressing her full bust.

Covering her face, Quinn becomes embarrassed. She tries to cover the moans from her tongue, but Pennywise hears them, Pennywise loves them.

Rolling the bud between his fingers with sudden gentle pinches, Pennywise dives back into her cunt.

His mouth is too good for her, she can't keep still.

He grips her ankles folding her legs to her chest to refuse her from moving his mouth from her pussy.

He circles his tongue around her swollen clit, nipping it to watch her body jolt. He slurps on her every drop of pleasure, swallowing it as if his thirst could never be quenched.

His tongue plows into her pussy, bringing shameful squeals through her begging lips. Tongue long enough to fuck her like a cock, he pushes it in and out of her hole and brings her to tears.

His monstrous cock aches, forced against his tight clown costume, and ready to burst from her taste and squeals alone.

Pennywise's face dug deeply between her thighs, his nose and mouth slide vengefully prodding inside the slick folds of her smooth cunt, forcing her to quake as she pulls on the red strands of his hair.

The clown's eyes shutter closed, rolling back into his skull in pure satisfaction. Mouth usually dripping with blood however tonight dripping with Quinn's sweet nectar.

"Please Pennywise..." Her sweet voice stabs at him. "Will you kill me too?"

"You hush now Quinn, you'll be back in your bed, sleeping the best that you've ever had." Breathless and eager to make her orgasm, Pennywise continues.

She moans... pleasure becoming far too painful for her. "When?!"

"Don't act as if you want me to rush, I can feel how much you're enjoying this Quinn." Nearly offended, he shuts her up with a deep tongue plow against her cervix.

She shouts in pleasure... Ashamed of knowing how incredible his tongue feels, and feeling like an absolute little slut for an evil clown.

However soon he answers her anyway. "You'll go home when I get you to that point , when you realize that I won't stop seeking after you, and when you realize that with me— you'll never want to be sought after by anyone else again."

"Do you understand Quinn?" His question is threatening.

She nods. "Yes."

"Good girl." He grins. "Now release for me... release for me, and you will be home sweet girl. You'll just have to do it, right here on my tongue."

Lying on his belly, face devouring Quinn's pussy as he grips the thick indents of her hips, Quinn begins to buck her hips... fucking his face until the tightened spring in her stomach releases.

Tears dropping from her eyes as she shouts out from a mind blowing orgasm, Quinn's vision fades into a bright light.

Seeing only white and hearing a ringing similar to after a bomb, she fades into an unexpected slumber, waking up peacefully tucked into her bed back at her home...

—•—

Days pass and Quinn still doesn't understand what has happened to her this summer.

She's painfully alone with this knowledge, knowing that no one would ever believe her about Pennywise, nevertheless believe that she's been intimate with him.

Her thoughts of the night with Pennywise in the sewer plagues her mind... the memories make her drip with desire and because of it, she feels embarrassed.

What's even more embarrassing, is that she can't help but wonder why he hasn't made contact with her again...

Tempted to visit him in the tunnels, she doesn't want to seem desperate. Her mental health fights with her, filling her with shame knowing that longing for this creature is extremely wrong.

As the weekend draws closer, it'll be a week since they've seen each other. Quinn has gotten to the point of believing that maybe she's just going crazy, maybe she dreamt all of this!

She forces herself to drop him from her thoughts so she can prepare herself for the school year, and get back to everyday life.

Quinn showers in her parents' bathroom, refusing to bathe in the hall bathroom being that was where she first encountered the clown.

As she dresses for bed in a black silk night gown, she brushes her wet curls and brushes her teeth in the mirror of the hall bathroom.

As she spits the toothpaste out, she hears the calling of the clown.

"Oh Quuuiiinnn.."Pennywise nearly sings for her as he calls her name, echoing throughout the bathroom's pipes.

She gulps, realizing that everything that happened between them is absolutely true.

His voice taunts with seduction. "I've missed you honey..."

Cutting off the bathroom light, she decides to ignore the noise and leave.

"Don't you dare leave this bathroom."His threat startles her. "Come here Quinn."

She rolls her eyes, kneeling to the tub as she begins to whisper aggressively at the tub's drain, looking like a psychopath if anyone were to catch her. "What do you want from me? It's been a week, I thought I was free of you."

"Never." He chuckles. "It seems that you've been counting our days apart... if I'm correct, you've missed me just as much?"

"I waited for your bath." Pennywise causes Quinn to blush in embarrassment. "You never came."

"Showered in my parents' bathroom." She shrugs stubbornly. "Felt safer."

Pennywise laughs. "Then we'll just have to have our fun now."

Pennywise's gloved hand reaches through the drain...

"Take the glove off." He demands. "Then sit on it."

Quinn trembles as she pulls the clown's white glove from his hand.

His hand is revealed, gray, monstrous, with talon like nails.

She flinches at the thought of being fingered by that. "Put that away!" Quinn complains. "I will not do anything with that."

He sighs. "Fine."

Pulling his hand back into the drain, he soon brings it back up... handsome, soft, human, with enticingly long digits...

"Now." Compromising with the girl, Pennywise sighs. "Be a good girl, and come sit on this hand Quinn."

She licks her lips, becoming convinced to find pleasure on the handsome hand.

But she refuses... "No!" She snaps. "Pennywise, I won't! I'm going to bed!"

"So help me god Quinn." The threatening tone of his voice stops her dead in her tracks. "If you don't sit on this hand, I will come through this drain and fuck you to absolute pieces."

She wishes that his demanding threat didn't make her melt between her thighs... but interestingly enough, it does.

Quinn enters the tub. Hiking up her silk nightgown, she kneels to the floor of the tub, taking a seat on the warm hand coming from the drain.

His deep baritoned chuckle echoes through the steel pipes. "You know what to do."

And that she does.

Quinn begins to buck her hips... fucking the hand with slow trembled breaths.

Pennywise massages her clit with his thumb, making her slick and preparing her for his probing fingers.

Quinn continues to soak his hand, sticky webbed dripping from her needy little cunt oozing down Pennywise's wrist.

He places two of his longest fingers inside of her, bending at the knuckle to caress her g-spot each time they thrust into her. Quinn closes her eyes and enjoys the pleasure of each bounce onto the hand, a moan escapes her tongue as a broad thumb seeps into her asshole.

He's marked her as his own. Having the girl obsessed with the many ways he can fill her.

Quinn gyrates the lacy dress past her shoulders, her hands begin to toy at her now revealed sensitive breasts as she reaches closer to her cum.

Drawing the faint taste of blood from her full bottom lip, she bites down hard enough to silence her need to squeal.

"I have such the surprise for you.."Mysterious temptation clouds over Pennywise's voice. "Tomorrow, I'll come get you. Be ready for me, be ready for your gift."

"W-What is it?" Quinn's breath hitches in her throat, being choked by a moan.

"Be patient little lamb." He chuckles. "You will see."

Quinn clinches around Pennywise's fingers, nearing her finish. "Cum for me." A sweet command from Pennywise, sends Quinn into hysterics. She jolts, body quaking as she releases for him, soaking and pruning his fingertips.

Panting for breath after her climax, she watches the wet hand slide back down the drain... Quinn listens into the drain, hearing the sudden lapping of his tongue over his fingers, obsessed and constantly thirsty for her taste.

Realizing how much he craves for her, Quinn's crush grows larger. She's utterly fixated on her new lover.

"My glove?" Pennywise waits calmly for her to send it down the drain, but she refuses.

She gulps. "Tomorrow."

"You want to keep it?" You can nearly hear the joyful smile in Pennywise's voice.

"Yes." She admits.

He accepts it. "Fine, as long as you sleep with it pressed against your chest, or even better, between your legs."

"Quinn?" He calls once more. "I'll be seeing you tomorrow, sleep well sweet girl."

—•—

Quinn gets dressed early today not knowing which time to expect Pennywise.

Her knee shakes nervously as she waits all day on the edge of her bed, wondering if she should warn her family to not expect her home tonight... Hell, dealing with an evil entity, she even thought to warn them that she may never be back.

But the clown asked for her trust... so trust is what she has to give.

If he were to kill her, she's sure that he would have done it by now.

As the evening darkens, a nervous Quinn refuses to eat any meals... Her stomach is too anxious to accept any food to eat.

Quinn's eyes become tired, she accidentally begins to fall over into her pillows as sleep takes over her...

Before her head hits the pillow, the side of Quinn's face is carefully placed into the wide palm of Pennywise's hand.

She notices the feel of his skin instead of the pillow on her cheek, not once caring to ask how did he get inside of her room.

"You're late." Quinn's voice so very quiet and sleepy, plays gently on his heart strings.

Pennywise leans into the girl, wearing his human appearance as he softly kisses his tired love.

"I'm sorry sweetheart." He coos, taking his borrowed glove from her bedside table. "Just needed time to get things perfect for you."

As Quinn blinks her heavy eyelids open, she watches Pennywise puff on a cigarette. "So now you smoke?"

He shrugs. "Thought I'd see what's the hype around it to you humans."

Quinn disapproves, up from lying on her bed, she takes the cigarette from his lips and tosses it out of the opened bedroom window. "There is no hype to it, it's bad for you."

Amused with her sexy authoritative side, he wraps his arm around her body. His hand graces the small of her back gently as he lifts her to his kiss.

The tender kiss, mind blowing for them both as Quinn enjoys finally seeing his presence again, and Pennywise enjoys her beauty. Long brown legs in a pair of light blue denim short-shorts, dirty red converse tied in a bow on each of her feet, and braless in a nearly see through white summer tank top.

She's so gorgeous, it physically pains him.

Enjoying every detail of grace and beauty on her face, he pauses momentarily as he takes her image in. "Close your eyes."

Expecting to be transported somewhere, Quinn does just that. She closes her eyes, grasping onto his broad shoulders as she trusts him to take her wherever he wants.

Feeling ground beneath her feet, Quinn soon opens her eyes. She notices her house a few feet away as her and Pennywise walk hand in hand into the woods of her backyard.

She frowns in confusion. "The woods? Why?"

"So you can see how to get to me, and where to find me, whenever you need me." The calm comfort in his voice takes her worries away. She agrees with a nod, tightening her hand around his.

As the two walk together in the woods for a few short minutes, Pennywise follows a stream that leads them to the canals.

He makes sure that she's paying attention as he watches down upon her, she nods, memorizing the path of how to get to him.

They cross the dense rocks surrounded by water as they head towards the sewer. An older gentleman packed up from late night fishing stops them in their path.

Quinn instantly worries about how Pennywise will react... If she is to spend time with him, she never, ever, wants to see him kill.

"Penny, don't." Her voice a quiet plead for him to behave.

The man shines his flashlight into their direction, and Pennywise can hardly decide to kill him or not as he watches the man shine the bright light into his eyes.

"Hey kiddos! You shouldn't be out this late, especially around these parts. Haven't you all heard about the bodies being found around here? Apparently a murderer is on the loose, some even say an evil clown who lives in the sewers... although that's just a fable." The man chuckles.

"Can't say we're ones to believe in the clown." Pennywise laughs. "Like you said, it's just a fable, right?Have a good night sir!"

Quinn finally breathes again, glad that Pennywise never lost his cool.

He sighs. "The things I do for you."

Together they make their way into the sewers, sloshing through the mucky waters until they've reached the dry area of the tunnels.

Quinn notices how different it looks from the last time she was here...

Cleaned out, floating bodies taken elsewhere, and no pile of his victims belongings.

Even a bedroom is built...

Candles lit around the two of them for romance, and to mask the horrid smells of the sewer.

She begins to chuckle, impressed with the effort he put into making her feel comfortable with where he hides out at...

She walks around the bedroom touching the furniture and the decorations he put together to feel like a home.

Quinn knows the stuff is stolen, but it is the thought that counts.

"Too much?" Nervous and nearly sweating, Pennywise can't get a good read on her expression. "I over did it, huh?"

"I think it's beautiful." She admits. "The reason you went missing for a week?"

He shrugs. "I didn't like you being on the floor, you deserve better... A bed, a place to stay whenever you want to free yourself from the outside world."

Quinn's cheeks blush, clearly falling in love with the clown.

"The bed is awfully big..." Kicking off her shoes, Quinn lays back onto the pillows. "Should I expect to share it?"

Pennywise chuckles, rolling his eyes playfully however noticeably infatuated with the girl.

"Quinn?" He curiously asks. "Do you only like me like this? Does the clown frighten you?"

She smiles. "I like you for the man that I got to know over summer, regardless of how he appears to me. Penny, I like you, for you."

Pennywise gazes into his reflection of the bedroom's mirror with guilt... suddenly becoming unsure of which version that he even likes, himself...

He chuckles dryly. "So I'll change it up, keep things interesting with my different appearances."

She agrees with him, yet begins to sigh. "I'm sorry that I can't do the same."

Her feelings of not being enough for him snaps Pennywise out of his gaze.

"Don't ever say that again." He quickly leaves the mirror, joining her as he sits on the edge of the bed. "You don't need multiple appearances. I love just the one that you have, I'll never want for anything else."

"You love my appearance?" She asks. "Or you love me?"

He gulps, finally admitting the truth. "Quinn, I love you."

Feeling relief as he finally gets those three meaningful words off of his chest, he doesn't even care to hear her say it back... for he is sure that the day will come.

The two share a longing kiss.

A tongue kiss that heats into their clothes being stripped off of each other.

As he pulls the daisy dukes along with her panties off of her body, he bites his lip as he watches her lift enough to slide them off of her legs... just as impatient and horny as he is.

Pennywise watches Quinn tremble with excitement, as she glistens between her thighs, ready for his taking.

Lying on her back, Quinn nearly begs for missionary sex. The type of sex where the wider she spreads, the more she can feel him dig into her.

"Are you sure?" Surprisingly gentle, Pennywise asks for her reassurance.

Biting her lip and already panting, she nods.

He doesn't think twice.

Lying over her gorgeously nude body, Pennywise begins to place slow, bruising kisses along her skin. Sucking the flesh of her chin, neck, and breasts... Marking her with his affection.

Accepting another of his tongue kisses, Quinn moans into his mouth as he loses himself down her throat.

Pennywise begins to slowly lube his cock, thrusting slowly through her slickness until he's covered in her nectar. Just the gliding of his cock through her folds causes her body to arch, pleading aimlessly to be fucked into.

Pussy slapping her with the tip of his weighty cock, he grins deviously as he watches her body jolt each time it smacks her on her throbbing clit.

Toyed with enough, already to the point of soaking his brand new sheets, he gains momentum to seep into her entry.

Slowly thrusting his tip into her, Pennywise holds her hips down as she attempts to run from the pleasure.

His plows deepen..

He watches Quinn take half, then all of his cock as he stretches her to her max. Watching his cock spread her wide is the prettiest thing he's ever seen, his groans tremble as he watches each time he slides out, and rams back into her.

Quinn grips the sheets as Pennywise kisses her salty tears away.

"So pretty.." He coos. "And such a good listener. Quinn, baby, are you with me?"

The girl nods, body blushing red as she endures his brutal fucking, however enjoying the restraint on her breathing from his crushingly heavy body and the fullness of his veiny erection.

Catching a bouncing breast into his mouth, Pennywise's tongue laps teasing circles around her hardened nipple.

Picking up speed and listening to the wet fapping of their bodies and the squeaking bed frame, Pennywise is determined to bottom completely out into her.

Finally doing it, pushing his cock in to the base of his happy trail, Quinn presses her hand against his chest, begging for mercy. "Please—" she pants. "Penny, I-I can't!"

Taking the hand from his chest, Pennywise kisses the girl's palm gently before placing it above her head. Holding her wrists back from interrupting his heavy bucking. "You can baby, you can."

Taking his free hand to her fleshy clit, he massages her in a way that makes her squirm underneath him.

Finishing his handsy caress with a sharp slap onto her pussy, he sends her into oblivion.

Quinn's body begins to quake, squealing inaudibly as the orgasm melts her into the mattress.

Wanting that same incredible finish, Pennywise's speed picks up, aiming for his cum. Her orgasm spasming around his cock as he grunts, mercilessly fucking into the girl.

"Fuck!" He shouts as he nears his finish.

Pussy quivering around his erection, already doused in his sticky precum, his sweetheart lays tiredly beneath him...

Sweated out, dumbly drooling, and looking so beautiful half-lidded and absolutely slutty for only him.

To bring him to his climax, he begs to hear her perfect little voice.

"Is this what you want?" He grits through his teeth. "Could we have this for a lifetime?"

Quinn nearly cries, numbly taking the rough fucking like a champ. "Yes Pennywise, God yes— just continue to be good to me, be good to Derry."

He nods, simping immediately to whatever she wants. "Mmm- fuck! This pussy is fucking fantastic. Yes baby.. Haven't killed since we met, I'll do whatever you want."

"Haven't killed since we met..."

The words replay, strangling his mind.

How hasn't he killed, since they have met?

Pennywise comes to a slow pace, not understanding how he has been surviving if he hasn't fed off of fear?

....

Or has he been feeding off of it all along?

Quinn, she fears him.

He only has been surviving around her, because she's fucking faking it...

Pennywise believes that Quinn doesn't feel the same about him at all, she loathes him, she's frightened by him and doing whatever she needs to do in hopes of keeping her family and this town safe from him.

He can't hold his appearance any longer, as anger fuels him, Pennywise bursts into full clown...

Eight feet tall, ravenous teeth, hands that tear through his white gloves due to the black talon sized nails, and a monstrous cock that fills Quinn to the absolute brim.

She hisses in immediate pain, "Pennywise it hurts!"

The bed breaks down to the floor now that he's massive and impossibly heavy. However, Quinn's tight little cunt feels sooo very good to him.

"It hurts?"He begins to deviously taunt. "Does it now? I think you can take it Quinn. Be good for me."

She squeals. "Please! You're still inside me, you'll have to go back to your human appearance!"

Becoming familiar again with his evil nature, he refuses. "I think I'll fuck you just like this."

His hands wrap around her entire waist as if she were a can of soda, the clown's form being so large over her petite frame it's like fucking into a Barbie doll.

He huffs, nearing a mountain size amount of cum as he nearly splits Quinn into two.

The clown's mouth begins to drool as he places his hand at her womb, feeling his cock and watching the insane tummy bulge he forces into her guts.

So fucking sexy, he feels his explosion erupting.

Eyes rolling back into his skull, the clown releases to the sweet sounds of her cries.

Muscles tightening as does the vicious grip on her skin as he stills himself inside of her and coats her walls with his hot sticky cum.

"When were you going to stop wasting my fucking time?" Pennywise watches his cum spill out on each side of his cock that still penetrates her. "I can taste the fear on you, so don't dare lie."

Aggravated with her silence, he slams her against the bed. "Faking everything that you've said... Why, because you think it would keep you alive longer?"

He clicks his tongue with taunt. "I'm too old to be made a fool of, but you almost had me Quinn... you really did."

"Penny please!" She begs, although now on soft his giantly inhuman cock continues to sit deeply inside of her. Without barely any movement, she still feels as if she's being fucked due to his size and the pulsing veins of his cock. "I-I can't speak to you like this."

Not being able to catch her breath, and seeming to be seriously ill. Her poor body can't take much more.

She begs tearfully. "It's too much!! S'too full!!"

Pulling himself out of Quinn, she jolts at the lewd pop of the head of his massive cock exiting her.

He watches his cum seep from out of her with more plans of revenge sex and doing this all night to her.

She can finally breathe as her body relaxes, pouring out his messy load into the middle of her trembling thighs.

"Talk!" Pennywise shouts.

"I'm not afraid of you!" She cries.

Pennywise's finger nail sticks uncomfortably into her belly button, with just the slightest drag, Quinn's steaming hot intestines could be lying right in front of her eyes. "Oh Quinn... I've enjoyed every minute with you, but don't think that I won't tear you into fucking shreds if you lie to me again."

"I'm telling you the truth, I don't fear you!" The poor girl, now heartbroken and regretting becoming the lover of a demonic entity continues to weep until she runs out of tears.

"The fear that you are surviving off of is my fear of the future. Fear of our fate together being that we are in an impossible relationship..." Quinn explains herself , unable to even look at him anymore. "A girl and an entity— a fear of the universe pulling us apart when I have too fallen in love with you."

....

His eyes soften with immense guilt... Finally realizing what he has done...

Looking at his love lying exhausted, half-lidded, and fucked to a pulp, he worries that he has injured her... For the first time feeling fear himself.

What Pennywise failed to realize, is that the girl never feared him at all. What she feared, was losing him.

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thomasisaslut · 8 months

Text

Loki Laufeyson x F!Reader

Double-Penetration — KTober

Word Count: 1k

Includes: Double Penetration, Overstimulation, Anal fingering, Anal Sex, Threesome—F/M/M, Nipple Play, Clit play, Shower/Tub sex.

On Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50601646

On Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/1387392225-𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫-𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑-𝐃𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞-𝐏𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧-𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢-𝐋𝐚𝐮𝐟𝐞𝐲𝐬𝐨𝐧-𝐱

Groaning as you awake your nose hits something strong, opening your eyes fully you see your beautiful nude husband beside you–the marks you left last night still strong. Oh, how you adored the sex from the previous night, for once he let you be dominant and you didn't let a second go to waste.

You smirk at the sight once more before sliding out of the bed and heading to the large, golden, Asgardian bathroom. You quickly strip off your clothes before sliding into the huge marble tub, once the water is warm you submerge yourself into it, adding lavender bubble substance and watching as they form when a knock on the door is heard.

"Darling?" Loki calls out, his voice gruff from the early morning.

"Yes, Loki?" You call back, your hands, cheeks, and chin covered with the sudsy bubbles.

"May I come in?"

You hum in reply, the god opens the door and Loki's cheeks instantly flush a light pink tint. He quickly strips off his own clothes and joins you in the tub, he grabs your hips and pulls you onto his lap–you now straddling him.

"My wife..." Loki tightens his grip on your hips. "I need you."

You giggle. "You had me last night, Lokes."

"Yes ,but, I need you again." He moves his head between the crook of your neck before nibbling on it–biting on a previous hickey from before and making it a much darker love bite. "Please?" He flashes you an innocent smile.

"Hm, fine." You nod.

"Oh? Don't you want to know what I will do?"

You ponder. "Surprise me, my love?"

Oh how he would make you regret those words.

A devilish smirk plasters across his face, he quickly flips you–pinning you to the wall of the large tub before his hand travels to your lower region... however, when he goes to insert a finger you tense.

"Loki? That's not-"

"Surprise." He slides his index into your hole, you wince from shock before he adds in a second.

"It'll only hurt for a bit, darling." He promises as he kisses your temple. He then begins to make a stretching motion with his hands inside you.

"L-Lokes!" You shout as his fingers go deeper inside of you.

"Shh, is this alright?"

You think for a second before nodding. "Yes..." You mutter as he thrusts his fingers inside again.

His smirk only grows, he continues to use his finger when you see a light green flash of his magic in the reflection of the tub's water.

"Loki, what's that?"

Instead of answering you he flips you around, you now sit on your husbands lap when you look in front of you and your jaw drops. Now kneeling in the water before you.

"How-" The clone of your husband cups your once slack jaw and then kisses you harshly, his tongue slips into your mouth.

You moan at the touch when suddenly Loki lifts your hips and slides his erect cock into your hole. A sudden gasp escapes your lips before the clone kisses you again. Loki's hand slides to your cunt, mindlessly rubbing circles against your clit. The clone of him toys with your nipples as he kisses you.

"So perfect for me–for us–baby." Loki whispers before kissing the nape of your neck and then biting, sucking another mark into your flesh.

The clone grips his leaking cock and alines it with your cunt, slowly sliding in–without prepping you at all–before bottoming out. He smirks as you sharply inhale.

"You're doing so good, darling." The clone states. Loki hums in agreement as he moves to biting on your shoulder, gently thrusting his pusling dick inside your hole.

"Need... please, more!" You plea, their thrusts much to slow for your liking.

"Beg." They state in unison.

"Please! Loki! I need you so bad." Loki's hand travel to your hips as he begins to pick up the pace of his thrusts, the clone grabs your waist as he does the same. The cocks cause you to scream moan.

"Are you close, darling?" Your husband asks, his thumb rubbing over your clit faster.

You nod, both eager and grunting. "Fuck! Please-"

"We are." The clone pipes in, a smirk on his face.

You attempt to say something in return when both find that special causing you to shout.

"Loki!" You moan as you finish.

"Oh baby, were not done." Your husband states as both pull out of you, they turn you around–you now facing Loki–before they slide back in in a pounding thrust.

"Oh fuck..." He moans against your throat before kissing you, he bites your bottom lip before slipping in his tongue–it fights against yours.

The clone groans, a slight hint of jealously showing as he pounds harder into your rear. Loki spots this motion and quickens his own pace. The clone's thrusts get sloppier as he begins to undo, his lips connect with your neck before shooting his load deep inside of your ass.

Loki smirks before snapping his fingers, the clone disappears.

"And now I have you all to myself." Your husband smirks and then grabs your hips again, he pounds into your cunt harder than you have ever experienced before. You can feel his cock pulsing deep inside of you.

"Please! It's too much... cum! Cum for me, husband." You beg, overstimulated.

He smirks and finally complies, he releases his load into your aching, wet cunt as he gently kisses your temple.

"You were so good for me, my lovely wife." Loki chuckles then slowly slides out, he uses his magic to heat up the tub again.

"That was... quite the surprise." You giggle as you rest your head against his shoulder, your body completely sore from the penetration.

"Are you alright?" He whispers against your head, nuzzling his nose against your scalp.

You nod. "Tired."

He laughs and nods. "After we actually clean ourselves our make sure to cherish you, darling." He winks.

You smirk and bring him down for one more kiss.

"You better."

#loki laufeyson #mcu loki #loki season 2 #loki odinson #lokius #loki series #loki fanfic #loki #loki marvel #loki x reader #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #ao3 writer

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heyitsme1040 · 6 months

Text

Suds and Scars [s.h]

summary : Steve’s scars from the demobats were still healing. He couldn’t move well without them hurting, so you help him take a bath.

pairings : Steve Harrington x Reader

warnings : None really, and I think I (unintentionally) made this gender neutral actually. (If I missed anything please let me know!)

word count : 865

AO3 (x)

a/n : The second bonus Comfortember post is here! This one is based on the alternate prompt of 'baths.’ Steve deserves to be looked after and cared for the way he does for everyone else.

You filled the tub with warm water, waiting for your boyfriend to walk into the bathroom. The sound of rushing water covered the sound of his footsteps, so when arms suddenly wrapped around you the yelp that escaped you couldn’t be helped. You looked up, seeing Steve’s tired face above you.

“How’re you feeling babe?” You placed your hand atop his.

“Fine,” Steve automatically responds.

“Steve,” you emphasize, “are you feeling okay? The doctors said you’d be dealing with pain for a few more months as your scars heal.”

Steve hung his head, and you knew he was cursing how well you read him. “Alright, it’s not great. They hurt pretty bad right now, and it’s another hour until I can take more painkillers.”

Your heart tugged at the tiredness in his voice. You knew his fresh scars were tender and anytime he moved he felt the skin around them tug. You turned the water off and stood up to face him. You cupped his cheek, smiling when he leaned into the touch.

“The bath should help, I got it warmed up to help you relax. Do you want to wait a minute or go ahead?” You stroke his hair out of his eyes.

Steve closes his eyes, “I think the sooner I get in the better. Would you mind helping me still?”

“It’s no problem babe. Are you okay with me taking your shirt off?”

Steve nodded as you slipped your hands under the hem of his shirt. You carefully slid the fabric upward, making sure not to run your hands along his skin. The light caught on the fresh pink skin of his torso, shining slightly. You held each sleeve open as he slid his arm through, ducking some so you could pull the fabric over his head. Once his shirt was off, Steve turned to the mirror to look. You watched as his eyes trailed between the scars littering his torso. Your stomach tugged at the way he was looking at himself. You slid your hand into his, squeezing his in reassurance. You gently tugged his hand toward you and Steve turned at the feeling.

“They’re healing nicely,” you inform him.

Steve dejectedly nods. You frown at his gloomy mood, knowing he’s mentally beating himself up. He uses his free hand to undo his belt, shimmying his pants down before kicking them free of his feet. He takes a step toward the tub and you follow him. You let go of his hand to keep them hovered near his back as he steps into the bath. As he slowly sinks into the water, you watch his brows furrow.

“Too hot?” You worry.

“No, it’s great. The scars just tug when I lower myself into the water,” Steve explains.

He slowly leans back in the water, resting against the tub. You wait for him to let you know he’s okay to wash. When he finally nods to indicate the pain is ebbing away, you grab a washcloth and his soap. You get the cloth sudsy before gently washing him. You touch as lightly as possible, carefully wiping away the residual balm from his scars. Carefully rinsing away to soap, you guide him to lean forward. You repeat the process on his back, feeling his muscles relax under your touch. Once you finish rinsing away all the soap, you tilt his head back. You wet his hair before taking care in washing it for him, remembering when he first asked you to help him wash it. You took care to keep the water from running into his eyes, watching as the water made his hair darker.

It wasn’t long until you turned away from him, handing the cloth over. As he finished washing himself, you grabbed a towel from under the sink. At the sound of the water beginning to drain, you offered the towel to him behind you. He gently pulled the fluffy fabric from your hold.

“I’m covered,” he declared a few moments later.

You turned around, offering him your arm. He held onto it as he stepped out of the tub. He led the way into his room as you watched the drops of water fall from his hair onto his back. You laid on his bed as he pulled on a pair of sleep pants. Soon, he was lying next to you cuddled into your side.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” he mumbled against your skin.

You run your fingers through his damp hair, “You’re welcome. I like taking care of you.”

“That’s nice,” Steve sighs against you.

“You can sleep for now if you want. I can wake you up when it’s time for your medicine, okay?”

You felt Steve tiredly nod against you, movements sluggish. It was only a minute later that his quiet snores reached your ears. You watched over him as he slept, his breaths puffing past his lips. You hated how long he went without someone caring for him, but promised him you’d always be there for him. It took a long time for him to accept the help you happily offered, but now that he did you were so proud of him.

Author’s Note : Reblogs are appreciated, likes are welcome, and if you want to read more of my fics then maybe follow.

#fanfiction #fanfiction writer #fanfic blog #comfortember 2023 #comfortember #comfort fic #stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #st fic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington deserves to be cared for #stranger things fic

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eagerbby · 1 year

Text

Linger | Part 1

pairing| Eddie Munson x older!female reader

synopsis| A unknowing game of cat and mouse with your younger neighbor, who can't seem to hold on to his house key, leads to feelings you don't want to admit and actions you can't take back. Not that you'd want to, anyway.

an| admittedly I've been working on this far too long, since October to be exact. I wasn't seeing a lot of older!reader fics and as a 26 year old I wanted to explore a dynamic between Eddie and someone older. I hope you enjoy and be ready for part 2 which will be even more filthy than this!

warnings| 7k, eddie is 20-21, female masterbation, eddie is persistent as fuck, stubborn!R, drug use (weed), reader is kinda bitchy but eddie likes it. MDI

“Eddie?”

“Hey, princess. It’s fucking freezing out here.” He smiles at you as a cold gust of wind blows past him and straight into your bones. Behind him the sun is setting into a tangerine colored, cotton candy sky.

“Lose your key again?” You ask, shivering in only a shirt and shorts, huddled behind the screen door with your arms wrapped tight across your chest.

Eddie shrugs sheepishly from the other side of the screen door, but his crooked grin tells you everything you need to know.

"Yeah," he rubs the back of his neck as he peers up at you through his lashes with puppy dog eyes. "I think I forgot it at The Hideout last night."

With a sigh and a halfhearted roll of your eyes you motion him in, smiling to yourself as you walk back to the sudsy dish water you had been wrist deep in when he'd first knocked.

"Starting to think maybe you should tie that key of yours around your neck." You quip as he settles himself at the little dinner table tucked into the corner of your kitchen.

It’s not a very big kitchen, smaller than your bedroom even, which means the ‘corner of the kitchen’ is only five feet from the L shaped counter. If you took two steps backwards you’d be in his lap. The thought has your stomach fluttering.

"Uncle Wayne said the same thing." He chuckles. "Says I'm costing him a fortune in key making."

"This is a common occurrence for you, huh?"

"No, not common... maybe like the sixth time…this year."

"Jesus Christ, Eddie." You laugh, wiping your hands off on the dish towel as you turn towards him. "Remind me not to ever hand you my keys."

He smiles at you with this cheesy grin that makes your stomach flutter like a teenage girls, heat rushing to your face when you notice the way he's sitting.

He’s leaned back in the walnut stained wooden chair, legs spread wide. His already tight black jeans stretched taut over his thick thighs and his worn Black Sabbath shirt has ridden up against the pale skin of his stomach, the dark line of his happy trail catching your eyes. It takes everything in you to look away, to not allow your eyes to stay glued to that sexy tuff of dark hair.

You turn back to drain the sink, willing the heat in your face away.

"Guess who's graduating this year?" He sounds jovial and you just can't help but tease him- just a little. Maybe it’ll ease the tension settling in the air of your kitchen.

"Hello, Eddie. I'm fine, how are you?" You say while you begin wiping the counters down, stepping over his long outstretched legs.

"Come on! Guess!" He urges, leaning forward to bump your elbow with his knuckles. You clench the rag in your hands tighter as you wipe down the stove.

"Well, I don't know any high school boys, other than you, so I'm gonna need a list of names to run through first."

"You're so mean to me." He says with high dramatics, taking the leather jacket he'd left here a couple days ago and tossing it over the back of a different chair.

"Eddie, I let you hang out, smoke you up, and I feed your gangly ass. God, I'm such a horrible, evil person." Your voice runs an edge of seriousness as you tease him, throwing a look over your shoulder in the process.

And, God, maybe you shouldn’t have looked back at him because he’s sitting there with his legs spread wide looking at you with that heavy simmer of his that you've started to notice and ignore. He's become a temptation, one you just can not fold to. It'd be wrong. You're older than him and he's still in high school, anything more than hanging out would leave you feeling dirty.

Unfortunately, you're not quite sure if it's a good kind of dirty or a bad kind.

"You're the worst." He drawls, fiddling with his trusty zippo. "You devilish woman, you."

The way he says it makes your spine tingle, makes you clench your thighs a little and hope he doesn't see.

"You hungry, kid?" Maybe a change in subject will evaporate the building tension in your small kitchen. You dig through the fridge as he sits silently behind you.

"You know I hate it when you call me that." His words mumbled when he finally speaks, sad almost, but he knows what you're doing. It wasn't like he couldn't feel the tension that was building between the two of you.

It starts off innocent enough. Three in the morning, dressed in only your silk robe and a pair of rain boots you'd found by your front door, you had trudged across the small gravel driveway between the two trailers and banged banged banged at the blue painted door. You didn't know your neighbor. You’d only lived in Hawkins a couple months at the time, but you did know that every night from 9 to 11 the sound of a wailing guitar was bound to rattle the fake crystal chandelier hung in your living room. Usually you could manage, put your tape deck on -drown it out- but that night the tinny punch didn't stop when the clock struck eleven or even at midnight. In fact it seemed to get even louder, like the person had turned the amp up, and you were fuming mad.

The door swung open so hard and fast it startled you and before you could chastise the person for making such an unnecessary ruckus, they were already apologizing.

"I'm so sorry, I-I didn't realize how late it was."

"You've been playing for hours, kid. Some of us have to work in the morning."

That anger you had as you stomped over dissipated quickly as you looked at his frazzled expression. He was young, obviously a metal head considering the long hair and all black attire, but his big chocolate brown eyes begged for forgiveness as they blinked back at you.

"I really am sorry, Miss. I'm learning a new song and… I guess I just got carried away." God, poor kid looked like he was about to get cuffed and loaded into the back of a cop car.

"S'fine, just go back to your normal hours. That I can deal with." You start to step down the rickety porch steps before you turn quickly and point your manicured finger at him. His eyes widened. "And don't fucking call me Miss, my name's y/n."

After that he seemed to make it his mission to run into you whenever you weren't locked inside your trailer. From meeting at the mailbox, to offering to mow your grass -which you really didn't have much of- to sitting next to you as you tended to your garden. It wasn't until a stormy cold evening that you invited him in. He said he lost his key and his uncle worked at the plant all night and into the morning. You made him dinner, watched a movie, and set him up on the couch for the night.

“Only this one time.” You'd said. “What do I look like letting a high schooler into my home?”

Eddie loathes when you do that to him, even now, level him down to simply a high schooler.

“I'm twenty.” He'd corrected, going as far as to show you his license. Sure enough he was, but you knew you couldn't let it go past a friendship. The town would think you'd corrupted him, they'd surely run you out with torches and pitchforks. Shit, they'd probably burn you at the stake.

But something was starting to grow between you two. You thought at one point it was merely fondness for the strange kid who spoke in codes half the time and made a show out of everything he did. It didn't take you much longer after that, though, to realize what was really growing. Sprouting the weeds in your chest.

You wanted him.

God, did you feel horrible about that one.

It didn't matter that he was twenty, legal, an adult, there was such innocence inside him. Heart on his sleeve, kindness in his smile. Anything other than friendship was a no go. You'd ruin this kid, you just knew it. You didn't have the best track record with men and the last thing you wanted was to take this young man and break his heart before he could even experience what young love could feel like.

Wasn't happening. It's what you kept telling yourself. It's why you'd call him kid, which he hated passionately and made sure to let you know. Why you wouldn't let him hug you like he begged and begged to do. Shit, it'd probably be easier to put on a chastity belt and call it a day. Every time you pushed him away, he'd barrel back head first. He was incredibly determined.

You were playing a losing battle.

"Sorry, bub. Forget sometimes." You toss halved tomatoes in a bowl of chopped lettuce, moving to place the cutting board and knife in the sink before going back to the fridge.

You could feel his eyes boring into your ass as you bent to look through the crisper, hair standing up on end as you tried your hardest not to look back at him. You know what you'd see if you did and the last time you'd caught him staring the tarry blackness of his wide pupils almost knocked you to your knees.

"Are you hungry, though?" You ask again, clearing your throat as you straighten your back and shut the fridge door. You make it a point not to look at him as you head back to the counter, an onion in one hand and a small pack of steaks in the other.

"Steak? Okay, I take back what I said before. You're an angel sent from heaven to save me."

"Ha, maybe in your dreams." You try to joke back but you can feel his body heat again as he squats down beside you to grab the cast iron skillet from the cabinet. He puts it on the stove and smiles up at you. You hadn’t even heard him stand from the chair.

"Always in my dreams, sugar."

His words send that sickly sweet rush of heat down into the pit of your belly. Your body so starved for a release it actually hurts.

Why does he have to make this so hard?

"So you're gonna graduate this year, huh?" Change the subject. Ignore the stupid fucking glint in his pretty brown eyes. It's starting to become a routine, really.

"I got a C in Mrs. O'Donnell's class, which isn't great I know, but it's enough for me to walk the stage." He raises back to his full height, looking down at you with that little smirk of his, watches as you peel the pale skin of the onion. "Will you come to graduation?"

You can't hide how his question surprises you, hands freezing against the clean cutting board, eyebrows furrowing together.

"I really want you to." He adds, closing in on you.

"Won't your uncle think it's weird some stranger is coming to watch his kid cross the stage?"

"He knows about you."

You drop the onion onto the board and it rolls off the counter when you turn to him.

"He knows about me? What's that mean?"

Eddie shrugs, so much closer than you expected him to be. You can smell the hint of smoke on his denim vest, see the deep vines of brown swirling his eyes. "I told him where I was that night I lost my key. He has this weird thing about me sleeping in my van, he hates it for some reason, so when he asked I just told him the truth."

"And?"

"And nothing." He laughs. "Why are you worried about what my uncle thinks?"

"Uh, because he's your guardian and I don't want him to think I'm taking advantage or-or corrupting you."

Eddie bursts out in laughter, head falling forward into your shoulder before he's leaning back and wiping under his eye as if there's a tear.

"God, sweetheart, you should be worried about the opposite. You haven't heard?" He leans in and narrows his eyes menacingly. His breath wafts over your cheek as he speaks. "I'm the town pariah. The town freak. Nobody is worried about ‘The Corruption of Eddie Munson’."

“That’s not true.” Your voice is a hush whisper as you answer back, trying your hardest not to choke on your own damn tongue. You’re locked onto his unwavering gaze, his body unyielding as he steps closer somehow. Fuck, he’s so close, if you just lean up a couple inches your lips could capture his.

No. Nope. Not happening.

You lean away as his hand comes up to brush a stray hair behind your ear and the simple touch -the simple intimacy of the gesture- sends shivers across your hot skin.

“Eddie.” You warn softly and he grins sheepishly.

“Sorry, I can’t help myself.” His breathing is still a little shallow.

“Eddie.”

“I’m sorry.” He takes a step back, far enough that he’s not almost pressed against you anymore but still close enough to feel the heat radiate off his body.

“Can you rinse the onion for me?”

With a nod he ducks to pluck the runaway vegetable from the floor before heading for the sink. He flips the tap on with a long finger and the hum of running water does nothing to drown the racing of your brain.

After a quiet dinner you find yourself sitting next to him on the couch, a rerun of Murder, She Wrote playing on the TV. Your brain is fuzzy from the weed he’d brought to share with you and you find yourself leaning against the backrest of the couch, eyes glued to him as he takes a big bong rip.

“You really want me to come?” You ask, voice soft and airy, and Eddie hacks as his head whips toward you. He looks like a cartoon bull with the way the smoke shoots from his nostrils.

“Huh?” He manages as he splutters, clutching the neckline of his shirt as if that would fill his lungs with air.

“Do you really want me to come to graduation?” You ask again, handing your drink over to him and patting his back. He chugs the whole glass of Coca Cola, panting when he’s done.

“Fuck, I hit that too hard.”

“You’re about to be comatose off that hit.” You laugh, taking the glass as he hands it back to you. He settles back into the cushions with a lopsided grin on his face.

“Just what I wanted.” He chimes, his black lashes fluttering against his cheeks as his eyes close. “What’d you ask me?”

You go to repeat yourself before noticing just how soft his features have become, sleep inevitably pulling at him. You’ll talk to him tomorrow, you think as you stand from the couch.

“Go to sleep, Ed.” You whisper into the dim lit room, covering him with the blanket that had become balled up in his lap.

“M’kay, nightie night.” He tucks his knees to his chest, nuzzling his face into the fabric of the couch and then he’s out, soft snores fluttering the stray string clinging to the blanket.

Sleep doesn’t come easy, like most nights. You spend hours laying there in the dark, watching the way the moon light reflects off your crystal window chime and sends arcs of purple candescent rays across your walls and ceiling. The tossing and turning comes next, an hour spent tracing the rays with your eyes has become boring and the lack of sleep makes your eyes heavy. Of course they aren’t heavy enough to allow you to succumb to the sleep you desperately long for.

Usually you’d reach for your little friend tucked away in your bedside drawer but with Eddie just down the very short hall, you don’t want to chance your noisy little friend waking up the meddlesome boy sleeping on your couch.

Eddie. The reminder of him shoots through you like an arrow, mind hastily rewinding to the way he all but cornered you in the kitchen earlier. The way your heart stuttered in your chest and your fingers ached to pull him by the collar of that stupid ripped Black Sabbath shirt until his lips were pressed against yours.

Okay. Stop.

You can’t think about him this way. He’s young, a good couple years younger in fact, there was no way you could allow these thoughts.

But if they are only thoughts, who do they really hurt? You won’t act on them, you know better than that. Know you can’t get wrapped up with the twenty year old super senior, not when you came here to specifically get away from the drama of your past. No. You have to be good. Have to resist his infallible charm. You need to turn over, close your eyes, and be good.

Yet your hand still wanders past the hem of your panties, down across the silky skin that lays underneath them. Your fingertip finds your clit immediately and your body jerks at the sensitivity of that little bundle of nerves, a surprised gasp leaving your lips in a rush.

Down the hall, bundled on the couch, Eddie coughs.

In your bed you lay frozen, heart pounding and ears listening intently. There’s no way you woke him up, not with just a gasp. You continue to listen for any other noise for a minute or two, heart steadily thumping and your fingers twitching at the anticipation of what you’re about to do because let's be real here. If you don’t come soon, you might actually implode.

Feeling safe to move forward in your little quest, you guide your fingers back down, teasing a trail through your wet folds.

His fingers would feel so much better. It’s not a helpful thought, not when you’re trying to think of anyone but him.

Fuck, okay.

Patrick Swayze in that tight black shirt in The Outsiders. No. Scratch that. Matt Dillion as Dallas in The Outsiders, all rough and tumble. Just what you like in a man. A little rough around the edges but a good soul.

You press tight circles on your aching bud, arch your chest into your hand as it slips under your loose nightie, pulling at your pebbled nipple. You can’t help the soft moan that floats out, can’t help the rut of your hips into your palm as you slip two fingers into your heat. You imagine Matt Dillon laying you down on the bed, burying his face between your thighs.

Oh, fuck, that’s so good. This isn’t a marathon; it’s a sprint.

Your body so pint up and begging for some sort of release you’re on the precipice in no time at all. Your body is on fire, hips canting wildly, you think maybe your bed is squeaking but you don’t care. Fuck, you can’t care. Not when you’re so close. Just a little closer.

Your imaginary scenario shifts suddenly and unexpectedly in your mind. Sexy Matt Dillion erased as Eddie’s face engulfs your vision completely. His beautiful face, those big strong hands of his, the tattoos, that little strip of black hair that leads down down down into his pants.

You come with a cry, shocking and loud, and you clamp your hand across your mouth as your eyes screw tightly, brow pinching together almost painfully.

His words from earlier replay as your body rocks through your orgasm in one vicious wave after another.

"You devilish women, you.”

Your thighs, trembling and slick, clamp around your own hand when you’ve had too much. Body relaxes into your silk sheets as you breathe slowly. But you’re filled with this zing like pins and needles from your fingertips to your toes and your mind is racing, and why the fuck did your brain betray you like that?

You feel it then, the soft call of sleep. The flutter of your eyes as you fight to keep them open. The trailer is silent besides the rough Illinois winds as they beat a lone branch against the roof. You roll over in your bed, nuzzle deep into the blankets. You’ll deal with whatever that was tomorrow or the next day. Or never. You take one last peek at your room, still a soft lavender hue, purple moonlight, before sleep takes over.

You don’t even notice the fact that your bedroom door had been left open just a crack.

Eddie is gone when you wake up the next morning, the sun casting its early morning rays into your windows. The only proof he was even there is the blanket he slept with the night before sloppily folded on the arm of the couch. You don’t think much of his earlier departure. He’s a busy guy running full steam ahead towards his graduation. So you go about your day as normal. Coffee made, a small breakfast of yogurt and some berries you wished you’d grown on your own. You tidy up from the night before, washing the dinner dishes and making a list you shove into the depths of your purse. You need to stop by the store after work, get dinner for the next couple nights.

The day goes on like so; slow and laborious. You try your hardest not to think about Eddie, try to place him at the back of your mind. You go through work at the Hawkins Journal mindlessly. Walk the colorful aisles of the grocery store with glazed eyes.

By the time you get home, you’re exhausted. It’s late, nearing seven, and the place where Eddie’s van calls home is empty. You assume he’s off doing ‘Eddie Things’ as you called his extracurricular activities that were not of the legal kind.

You decide to start dinner instead, talking to your friend from back home as you cook.

“Any new love interests?” She asks at one point, voice giddy with hope. It’d been a year or so since you broke up with your toxic ex and about nine months since you’d arrived in Hawkins with no interesting suitors.

“Nope, not one.” You rattle off as you stir your boiling water and pasta.

“Bullshit.” She says under her breath before she repeats herself, louder this time. More accusatory. “That’s bullshit. Nine months and not one guy you’re interested in? Did moving to that Podunk town automatically make you a nun?”

You laugh at this, rolling your eyes as if she could see.

“No, it didn't make me a nun. But most of these guys are married. Or boring. Or married and boring. Or..”

“Or?” She catches your avoidance, the tone you held as you trailed off from your former sentence.

“Or… nothing.” You avoid it as you strain your pasta.

“Babe.” She says sternly.

“Fuck. Or they're too young.” You plop the strained pasta unceremoniously in the pasta sauce and throw the white plastic strainer into the sink.

“Young? How young are we talking?” Her voice is fully scandalized and you can only imagine the bright smile she's wearing.

“20.” You sigh, leaning your hip against the counter as you stir with one hand and hold the phone against your ear with the other. “My neighbor. He’s…. He’s trouble.”

“Oh, so he’s your type, is what you’re telling me.” She chimes and you roll your eyes once again.

“No. He’s trouble for me. He’s a good guy. Kid. Person.” Another sigh from you as your friend chuckles.

“Oh, you are so bad off.” A giggle, then, “He’s legal, just go for it. You know, the world would be better if you got laid. You’d be less tense.”

“No. He hasn’t even graduated high school yet.” You say.

“He’s 20 and he hasn’t graduated high school?”

“He’s not stupid.”

“I didn’t say he was.” Her tone makes your skin crawl. She can tell -over the phone, miles away- just how defensive her question made you.

“He’s just a kid.” You say again, mostly to yourself.

“Babe, he’s twenty.”

“So what, I should just fuck him?” Your voice is getting higher, temper is starting to build. There’s no reason to get so worked up, you know your friend means well, but you know you can’t go there with Eddie. You’d just ruin him. You weren’t good at relationships.

“Calm down. I’m just saying. If you want it and he wants it and you are both legal consenting adults, what's the issue?”

“It feels wrong. Like I’m taking advantage of him.” You mutter, abandoning your bubbling pasta to look out your window towards Eddie’s trailer. The van is still gone but now his uncle Wayne’s truck sits out front.

“Jesus, babe. You’re clinging on to this warped moral high ground you have with your pinkies. Just let go. Live for once. I thought that's why you moved out there anyway. To live your own life however you want.”

“It is.”

“Then fucking live it.”

Your friends' words worm their way into your brain, spreading like a disease. You get high to quiet the voice but that doesn’t work like you want. You end the night curled up on the couch with your book, not even reading the words on the page. No. All you can do is think about Eddie and those four damned words.

Then fucking live it

The days fade into even colder nights. You don’t see Eddie as much as you normally do, but he comes over every now and then to catch you up on how busy he’s been. He’s looking at you differently now, eyes lingering for too long. You don’t notice it at first, his constant heavy stare, more intense then his usual playful one and always on you.

He’s touching you more. Something your brain noticed after the fifth time the back of his hand grazed across your arm or hip or thigh. It made your whole body light up like a fucking Christmas tree.

His birthday whirls around. 21. He gets so drunk you find him laid out on his porch on your trip to the mailbox the next morning. His uncle sits on the steps smoking a cigarette, a fond smile on his face.

He’s back to losing his key and hanging around your trailer by the time graduation comes around. You watch him walk the stage in his green cap and gown, sitting right next to his uncle who sheds a silent tear. Eddie flips his principle the bird after snatching his diploma from his hands. A group of kids cheers rowdily to the left of you, whooping and hollering, and Eddie stands at the edge of the stage with his arms spread wide soaking it all in.

You don’t expect to see him that night, figured he’d be too busy partying with his friends, so it comes as a shock when there's a knock at your door quarter past eleven.

“Hey, princess.” He says when you answer the door. He’s leaning against your porch railing with a distinct smile on his face. It reads trouble and you are absolutely smitten.

“Hey, you. What’s up?” The screen door between you two does nothing to block the early spring breeze from invading your trailer.

“Lost my key.” He says simply.

“Oh, you did, huh?” You bite back the smile that wants to break across your face. You can tell he’s lying. Can see the little twinkle in his chocolate buttons eyes.

“Misplaced the damn thing again.”

“You have a problem, Ed.”

“I need your help, Miss.”

It nearly knocks you off your feet, the tremor in his voice, the desperate pleading cut with a playfulness that short circuits your brain. Eddie smirks, hand reaching towards the door handle. You beat him to it, locking the screen door as he goes to pull it open.

“What do you want, Eddie? I’m about to go to bed.” The tension is too much. If you let him in…

If you let him in, nothing will be able to stop you.

“You’re just gonna let me freeze out here?” He whines, dramatically shivering in his leather jacket, vest, and red flannel.

“Nice try.” You step back, starting to close the inner door when his hand slaps against the aluminum siding of your trailer, trying his hardest to catch your attention before you fully shut him out.

“I'm starving. I-I’ll sleep in my van but can I just borrow some bread, and peanut butter, and maybe some jelly?”

And just like that, you finally feel some semblance of control over this boy who makes it his goal to drag the desire out of its dark hidey hole deep within your chest.

Except, it’s not that deeply hidden. Not now. Not after all this time fighting to not feel this way for him. You know you shouldn’t let him in. He’s in a mood, you could tell the second you saw him, and you’re so pent up and horny you're destined to snap. To give in to this unholy feeling that's slowly suffocating you.

But he’s hungry and he’s pouting and giving you those lost puppy eyes…

You unlock the screen door and walk to the kitchen, knowing he’ll trail behind. He always does.

“Thank you, sweetheart. I thought my stomach was gonna eat itself.”

You slam through your cabinets and fridge as he stands in the center of your small kitchen. You carry your small load to the kitchen table, dropping the food into a messy pile. Bread, lunch meat, lettuce and tomato, a jar of mayonnaise and a bottle of mustard.

“You can make it yourself, ya?” You ask and Eddie nods happily.

“So much better than a PB&J.” He says excitedly, sitting down at the table. You hand him a plate and a knife and decide now would be a good time to finish washing your dinner dishes.

Time passes quietly. The steady voices from the TV, Eddie’s soft groaning as if this sandwich is the best thing he’s ever eaten. It’s not as difficult to control yourself as you thought it was. But of course, you two aren’t speaking. The mood changes when Eddie opens his mouth.

“Can I have a drink?” He asks hesitantly, mouth half full and a piece of lettuce hanging out the corner of his mouth as he chews.

You pop open the fridge and grab one of the sodas you’d bought for him a couple weeks ago. You set it in front of him with a gentle smile.

“Thanks.”

It’s a quiet dance, the way his hand somehow brushes your bare leg as you walk back towards the sink. You know he hears the way your breath hitches. Know he has his eyes on you even with your back turned.

He’s cleaned up his mess by the time you’re done with the dishes, wiping your hands off on a dish towel when he makes his way back from the bathroom. You can faintly smell your mouth wash on his breath as he leans next to you to place his plate in the sink.

“I’ll wash it.” He says, looking down at you with a brazen look. The control you felt earlier instantly dissipates.

“Okay.”

“You look nice.”

You roll your eyes at this, partially because it didn’t take him very long to fall back into his flirting but also because these little words really do something for you. All bets are off. If he pushes again there's no doubt you’ll give.

“Just a shirt and shorts.” You say back as he rinses the plate off.

“Still,” When he’s down he collapses in the kitchen chair with a grunt, digging for his cigarettes he knows he can’t smoke in your house. “I think you look beautiful. Always.”

“Are you full?” You decide to change the subject.

“Very. Thank you.” He's quiet for a minute, flicking the wheel on his Zippo as he stares at you. And then, “I’d make you feel better than anyone ever has.”

You hoist yourself up onto the counter, bare feet kicking against the pale yellow cabinet door, eyes lingering on him from where he sits. His legs are splayed wide, the muscles in his thighs straining against the overly washed black denim.

“Getting ahead of yourself there, bud.”

“Am I?” He asks as he sits up slowly, moves as lithe as a snake sizing up its prey. In an instant his whole demeanor has changed. He settles his elbows on his knees, levels you with a pensive look. His dark eyes narrow, but his grin widens and the contrast between the two makes you shiver.

“You are.”

“I’m not a virgin.” He says back quickly, a bite to his voice that doesn’t go amiss and you chuckle. He doesn’t like that, you can see it in the way his eyebrows wrinkle at the bridge of his nose.

“Never said you were. You’re just young, Eddie, and I’m not a high school girl who doesn’t know any better.” Okay, so maybe you weren’t going to allow yourself to give in so easily. Where’s the fun in that?

He chuckles dryly as he raises from his seat. He steps in front of you, not touching, but his hands fist at his sides like he wants to. Like he longs for it.

“Bold of you to assume I even mess with those high school girls.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, the groupies that hang out at The Hideout? Wait at the stage to tell you how good you are with your fingers?” There’s more bite to your words than you intend but if it fazes him he doesn’t seem to show it. His hot rough palms find the chilly hills of your kneecaps, his eyes flickering down to the exposed skin as he smooths his thumb there, before he’s locked back onto your withering gaze.

“You sound jealous, Sweetheart.”

And you laugh at this, a quick belly laugh that has your head falling back against the cabinet behind you. You laugh because you are fucking jealous and you hate yourself for it. You shouldn't be jealous of your freshly twenty-one year old neighbor burying his cock into a pussy that isn't yours. But fuck, it sears through you like a hot knife, made even worse as he eclipses the space that's left between you two.

“I’m not jealous.” You scoff while your body is ravaged with the flames of his touch. “I’m sure you’ve fucked any girl that let you put your hands up her skirt. But I’m not some easy little girl.”

“A woman.” His voice is entirely mocking as he ignores the hateful crassness in your words.

“Yeah, a woman, and it takes more than some sloppy head and eager dick to make me come.”

He settles himself between your legs, hands sliding up the expanse of your thighs until his fingertips dig into the flesh right below the hem of your little sleep shorts. He leans in, the smell of the weed he must have smoked before he came over lingering on his clothes and hair; the smell strong enough to have you feeling intoxicated.

Or, maybe that was all him.

“You have no idea what I’m capable of, sweetheart.” You want to wipe that smug grin away, slap him across his pretty face so he stops this before it goes too far, but one quick intrusive thought sends your mind into a tizzy.

He’d like it. Little fucking masochist.

“I’m not some innocent little kid, baby, I’d fuck you so good you wouldn’t remember your name.”

As sexy as he sounds, as good as it sounds, you roll your eyes at his self assuredness. This sweet boy, the same boy that's confided in you about his past with tear filled eyes and spent hours blabbing about his DnD campaigns, saying he’d fuck you like an animal just feels so absurd. Yet it arouses you just as much, has your panties damp and sticking to your slick folds.

“You say that to all the girls you fuck?”

“See; jealous.” He hisses back, eyes so dark and blown wide you can barely see their beautiful umber color.

“Not jealous.” You shake your head, eyes begging to look away from his intense stare down, but you can’t. You’re trapped in his hypnotic slow blink as his eyes flash to your pursed lips.

“I think you’re lying.” He argues, a harsh whisper as his head tips against yours. Your breath leaves in a choked rush when he nuzzles his nose into the side of your head, teeth nipping your earlobe.

“Eddie.” You warn weakly, your hand splayed against his firm chest as you go to push him away, but Eddie has other ideas. He snatches your wrist up in a tight grip, guiding your hand slowly down his stomach until you're cupping his hard bulge. He’s hot under your touch and you both gasp in unison when he squeezes your hand against the heavy ridge of him under his denim.

“Eddie…” You try again halfheartedly, head knocking against his as his cock twitches at the breathy whimper of his name.

“Do you see what you do to me? You make me so hard." He rolls his hips up, drags his hard cock over your palm. His moan rumbles like thunder in his chest. “Want you so bad, I know you want me too.”

“It’s not gonna happen, Eddie.” You whisper back, try with all your might to steel yourself, to make your words sound steady and sure. You want to. Fuck, you really really want to. But there's still that part of you attempting to resist the burning flames of desire. “You’re a kid.”

“I’m not a fucking kid.” He growls, grips the underside of your knees to drag you further into him. You can feel him against the inside of your thigh, hot and pulsing and begging to be touched.

“It’s wrong, Eddie, please.” Your hands are braced against the counter as he presses his forehead to yours, pushes against you until your back is arched. Your core presses against his cock in the most agonizing way in this new position, stealing the breath from your lungs as he hovers his lips over yours.

“But it feels so good. Stop pushing me away. I’m a grown ass man, sweetheart.” His teeth drag quickly against your bottom lip and as he pulls away you chase after unconsciously, needing his touch -his taste- as much as he needs yours.

“Fuck, you’re not making this easy for me. I have morals, you know.” You’re whining, head rolling to the side as he slowly starts to grind his hips into yours.

“Oh, your poor morals.” His hand is gripping your jaw in an instant, fingertips digging almost too roughly into the soft hollow of your cheeks. “You’re so sure you’re gonna corrupt me, which is laughable. Don’t you see, baby?” Eddie soothes his thumb across your bottom lip, drags it down till it bounces gently back in place.

“I want you to corrupt me. Use me. Teach me everything you know, everything you want, so you’ll never need anyone but me.”

His words hit you square in the chest but he doesn’t give you a second to interrupt. He has a point to prove and nothing will stop him now.

“I know you feel it, this thing between us that I felt the moment I saw you in that sexy little robe and your muddy rain boots. That night changed everything for me. You’re the only person who really sees me. I know it. Just like I know how hard it’s been for you. Resisting me, telling yourself how wrong it is and then moaning my name when you touch yourself in the dark of your room while I’m right down the hall. You can’t deny the cold hard truth, Sweetheart.”

Your eyes widen as you pull away from him. He lets you create space, lets you digest the bomb he just dropped on you. He’d heard you that night. You’d been so careful, so quiet. At least you thought you had.

“Tell me you want me. Let me make you feel good, baby. I know you need it. It’s been so long, hasn’t it? Since someone has touched you; since someone made you come.” He’s so sure of himself. So sure that he’s hit the proverbial nail on the head. That he’s got you all figured out. You’re torn between giving him credit for being so observant and being pissed that he’s using it against you. But he’s not wrong. It’s been so long since you’ve allowed yourself to be swept off your feet by someone. So long since you’ve felt a touch other than your own and here he was offering himself up on a silver platter with the promise of rocking your world.

What was the use in fighting something that you both equally wanted? Two consenting adults giving in to the burning flames of desire.

“Eddie-” He cuts you off quickly, his hips still against you, his hands digging into your fleshy hips.

“Please, give me a chance.” His voice begs, thick with need and worry. He doesn’t want to go back to being alone if you say no. He’s well aware that the words leaving his mouth and the grip he has on you changes everything.

“Eddie.” You grab him by the tattered collar of his flannel, pull him in until your lips brush his. “Shut up and kiss me already.”

He wastes no time slamming his lips to yours in an eager sloppy kiss. You kiss him back, waiting for him to slow his pace, to calm down a little, but he just presses himself closer and grips the back of your neck in a shaky hold. The blunt crescent of his fingernails digs into the sensitive skin of your neck. His other hand leaves its bruising grip on your hip to hold you tight to him, chest to chest, hearts pounding in tandem against one another.

You let him lead, let him find his groove. Sloppy wet kisses turn slow and true, his nose bumping yours, his tongue licking into your mouth tantalizingly. The first time he does it you whimper, sure that if you had been standing you would have been weak in the knees. But you’re still locked onto the counter top, thighs clenched tightly around his waist, the heel of your foot digging into the backs of his thighs. You fought this for so long. One taste and now you’re not sure if you can let him go.

But that’s something to think about another time and not when Eddie has a handful of your breast, thumb rolling tight circles around your pebbled nipple that pokes through the fabric of your shirt.

“I knew you fucking wanted me.” He teases once he pulls away, a string of spit collected against kiss swollen lips. His breathing is heavy and his cheeks are ruddy and he looks so god damn beautiful in the soft lighting of your kitchen.

You know there's no stopping you now. No going back. You were always just preventing the inevitable. You want him, you always have, and here he is serving himself up on a silver platter.

"Shut up and fuck me already, you punk."

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