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#just this once I'll tag his whole name
cassettemoon · 1 year
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Luh-loyd, ✨movie flavor✨, kinda
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angelltheninth · 3 months
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I wanna sit on Lucifier's face. I love him so much! I will never understand why Lilith left him.
I don't think she had a choice honestly, that face was her throne.
Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, cunnilingus, tongue fucking, flirting, tail use, face riding, coming in pants, Lucifer is indeed the Sin of Pride
Word count: 0.6k
A/N: I won't get into why she had to leave but I love the idea of Lucifer getting face ridden by her. Those are some THIGHS.
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"You keep looking at me like you want something. Don't be shy now, what can the King of Hell do for you?" Lucifer smirked at you as he leaned closer, completely forgetting about the movie you were supposed to be watching.
You caught his tongue moving as he spoke, staring, intrigued.
"I... want to ride your face." You learned early on that with Lucifer it was best not to play games. You had to be honest and blunt.
His eyes widened and he turned off the TV immediately. Sheepishly he scratched the back of his head, his posture stiff. Oh no. Did you make him uncomfortable?
"Haven't worked my tongue like that in a bit... Fuck. But hey! I'll never know if it works unless I try it again." Lucifer leaned in close his tail and horns emerging as his hands pushed up your legs. "Don't let the sharp teeth fool you, darling. I'm really gifted." His growled at the end, making a flood in your panties.
You were more nervous than he was, as you straddled his face and his hands pushed your dress up. A small noise of surprise was heard from below you, then a chuckle before you saw him wiggle his eyebrows at you. So you wanted to make things easier just in case he said yes, so what?
"Dripping on my face already. You should have asked me sooner." Lucifer's long tongue pressed from your entrance to your clit, vibrating as he moaned at the familiar yet new taste.
He raised his hips of the bed so his tail could reach around your thigh, keeping your legs spread on each side of his head. Moving a bit down his eyes fluttered closed, tongue pushing in to taste you properly. You groaned, "Oh God." He stopped, eyes narrowing but not opening. Why did he... oh. "Lucifer." You moaned again.
Humming in a pleased tone he flicked his tongue upwards, rewarding you. Of course the Sin of Pride didn't want you to moan someone else's name.
He was the one tongue deep inside you, he was the one whose face you were riding, he was the one who had his tail wrapped around your leg, he was the one bringing you closer and closer to an orgasm.
And himself too from the sound of the bed.
You felt almost bad that he had to hump air but you couldn't do anything from this position. Lucifer didn't seem to mind too much, focused on your taste, your walls tightening around his slippery tongue with every roll of your hips.
"Lucifer, I'm so close." Searching for anything to grab onto for balance your hands wrapped around his horns.
That triggered something in him. He growled your name against your cunt, the sound traveling all the way to your clit, his tongue curling faster and faster, assaulting that same vulnerable spot inside of you.
With the moan of your name you heard the bed creak once again, and again when you came around his tongue. Lucifer's head feel backwards, tongue slipping out of you, his lower face completely soaked in your juices.
"Golly." He chuckled, "No one's done that in a while." His joyous laughter filled the room. "Warn a guy before you touch his horns."
"S-Sorry. I thought I was gonna fall." You felt your whole body flush hot.
"I would have caught you." Lucifer nuzzled his cheek against your inner thigh, letting out a sound that reminded you of a purring cat. "I still got it!"
Sin of Pride indeed. It didn't matter that his face was wet and underwear creamed, he was nothing if not boastful about it. And about how hard he could get again, very quickly.
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sprout-fics · 5 months
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Danger Close
(Captain John Soap MacTavish x F! Reader)
Call of Duty Masterlist
Rating: Explicit (18+) Minors DNI Wordcount: 3.8k Tags: Power imbalances, Unrequited pining, Shy Reader, Stuck in a lift, Dry humping, Dirty talk, Seduction, Praise kink, Vaginal fingering, Secret affair, Pet names Warnings: None (ask to tag) A/N: This is a quick little idea of the OG himself. I'll probably do more headcanon based ideas soon, but for now enjoy the filth
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The thing about Captain MacTavish is that he’s…intimidating.
The self proclaimed red-blooded Scot is built like a brick shithouse, as one of your fellow officers once put it. Ruggedly handsome, strong, thick with muscle with coarse hair over his arms and stubble along his jaw. There’s a scar over one of his eyes, a slashing wound that should have blinded him. It crinkles slightly when he offers a lopsided smirk that taunts danger, that bares a reckless nature he hasn’t fully shed despite his years of experience. You tell your bunkmate that he’d make very good money as a bouncer at a nightclub, and her laughter nearly wakes up the whole hallway.
Intimidating.
Which is not necessarily the right word, you think. The Captain has a way around his men and fellow officers, an easy likeability that’s hard to ignore. He commands respect from his troops not in the way of brute posturing or snarling demands, but in the display of capability that has saved their lives many times over. He’s the firm touch on their shoulder as they check their gear before deployment, the firm reminder of level headedness over comms, the sharp, ringing command that cuts through gunfire when everything else has gone wrong.
The man exudes leadership, and you are among those helplessly drawn to it.
Yet there’s something closed off there that you can see in his eyes, an untold story that has drawn the lines of age in the corner of his steely gaze. It feels as if there’s an invisible barrier around him that prevents others from getting danger close. Magnetic, it pulls you in despite yourself, an inextricable attraction towards the nick of a blade you long to taste. Dangerous, like a moth to flame.
Not that you’ll ever do anything about it of course. As much as you daydream about the time you saw the captain’s broad back shiny with sweat on the sparring mats as he trained the other recruits, the low lilt of his accent that clouds your thoughts, you know it’s a terrible idea to develop a crush on your superior.
It’s hard not to, not when you deliver him his daily intelligence report in the afternoon, and he always makes sure to look up and greet you as you hand over the folder, smiling and offering: “Thank you, lass.”
Traitorous, you think, how your stomach devolves into butterflies just at the sight of his pleasant grin. 
Worse is the fact that despite his gruff exterior the man is always such a gentleman to you. He gives you his full attention when you speak, ensures his other male officers do not interrupt or speak over you, holds open doors when you walk into the meeting room together, ensures his men don’t harass you just for your status of being a woman. You think it’d be easier if he was just as pompous and arrogant as his fellow officers, but instead Captain MacTavish has the ability to make you feel special, like you’re the only other one in the room with him. 
It makes you feel a little guilty, admittedly- that he’s kind and decent and you constantly think about what it would be like to bend the rules so he can bend you over his desk. 
Caught in fantasy as you are, you don’t notice the way his eyes watch you out of the corner of his eye, take note of you stretching on your toes to reach something in a filing cabinet, the way your brow scrunches in thought as you scrutinize his paperwork, the slight tremble of your hand when you pass him a cup of coffee in the mess hall, the duck of your head when he offers an amicable thanks. 
You don’t notice the way he’s thinking anything but decent thoughts about you.
It’s hard to help. You’re a sweet, shy thing, and Soap is a man not immune to the charm of your bashful nature. He enjoys your wide eyed gaze as he selfishly sneaks gentle touches, a hand on your shoulder as he scoots past you in a crowded hallway, letting his fingers linger a little too long when you pass him a stack of files for him to sign off on, the barest little hitch of breathing he hears when he lets his voice dip an octave as he speaks.
“Thank ye, bonnie.” He tells you this afternoon, and relishes the way you repress a shiver at the endearment. 
Later, when he catches you at your desk gazing dreamily into space, he enjoys the glassy tint of your eyes, and imagines you’re thinking of him.
And, secretly, he thinks what it would be like to have you mewling and trembling under his war-worn hands. 
For all his decency and charisma, there is one thing you don’t know about the captain, and that is that he’s a wolf.
And you, you’re an adorable bunny waiting for the killing bite of his seduction.
Yet shy as you are, never to act on this, Captain MacTavish decides to take things into his own hands. 
He has you move your desk to his office, helping him with his own paperwork, and offers to buy you lunch on the basis of being a good boss, a good superior. He ensures you have everything you need for your space and helps you pick out a better desk chair when you complain about the standard base ones hurting your back.
And if he uses his rank to ensure your colleagues and higher ups don’t complain? Well. That’s his business.
“Good lass.” He tells you in passing when you find a piece of intelligence he requested, offering a small squeeze of your shoulder and feeling you stiffen under him before exhaling unsteadily- unaware of his smug grin just behind your shoulder. 
Cute, the way you think he won’t notice your little reactions, your dreamy eyes and the fantasies hidden behind them. 
In all places, it comes to a head in a stuck lift.
The meeting is in fifteen minutes, and you insist on taking the lift because of the obstacle course drills you were put through yesterday, whining about your aching thighs. Soap, the good captain that he is, acquiesces and allows it, crossing his arms and watching the doors close-
Only for the lift to give a groan and shudder to a stop.
“Bloody old building.” He gripes, giving the doors a small kick in grumbling protest. “Told maintenance these things needed to be repaired months ago.”
He’s not concerned. Worse comes to worse, he’s crawled up through elevator shafts before. Besides, it’s not as if you’re on the eighth floor, merely stuck between the first and second. It’s an inconvenience, but not an inescapable or deadly one. He’s not as young as he once was, but this shouldn’t be too beyond him.
You, on the other hand, press the call button frantically, trying to ask for help and rescue. The operator is quick to tell you that mechanics and the fire brigade are on the way, and tells you to stay calm. 
“How long are we going to be stuck in here?” You ask Soap, fidgeting. A nervous little filly, he thinks, as he eyes you with mild amusement.
“Maybe an hour.” He drawls, watching as your eyes go wide.
“We’ll miss the briefing.” You manage, a little choked, as if that is the gravest of your concerns, and not the thoughts Soap has about taking full advantage of the privacy he has with you.
“Aye.” He replies with a snort. “Shame, that.”
You make a little sound at that, something between petulance and despair, slumping into the wall as your face crumples.
“Hey, easy.” Soap offers, voice gentler now as he approaches you, gloved hands easily balancing you by your elbows across the wall. “It’s alright lass. We’ll be free in no time. Take a breath for me, aye?”
You nod at that, eyes turned towards the ground to avoid his gaze as you suck in a deep breath, hold it, and then let it out slowly.
“Good girl.” He purrs, unable to help himself, and relishes the way your eyes dart up to his, pupils blown wide as you realize for the first time just how close he is.
This is dangerous.
He’s got you crowded into the wall of the lift, all but blocking escape with his brawny frame. The shadow of his figure falls over your smaller form, dwarfing you. His hands cup you by your arms, bare fingers skimming along your exposed skin and leaving goosebumps rising in their wake. Your captain’s expression is calm, but even with the overhead light backlighting his face, you can see the intent, the scarcely concealed fixation there hidden beneath kind eyes and whispered only though a knowing smirk. 
Prey in a snare.
“S-sir-” You manage, voice tight as you finally realize the true nature of his intent with the way he hums a low, deep note in his chest that makes you shiver.
“Thought I wouldnae ken you watching me, bonnie?” He asks in a low, rumbling intonation that vibrates at the base of your skull. “Sneaking looks and off with the faeries everytime I called you a good girl?”
“I-” You try, and it’s a useless effort really. You could summon a thousand excuses, but you know none of them would work on him. Captain Mactavish’s eyes are too keen, too knowing for that. If he’s seen this much, if he’s seen the way you daydream while he doesn’t look, the way you try desperately to quell your infatuation with him, then there’s no use trying to pretend otherwise. 
"You like being called a good soldier? A good lass?” He goes on, and you bite down hard on a whimper of want that threatens to bubble up your throat. Your captain’s thumbs stroke the inside of your elbow gently, pressing down on the divot of sensitive skin and loosing an unsteady breath from your chest. 
“Look at you wobbling like a wee fawn.” He purrs in that low lilt of his. “This isn't because of me, is it? Developing feelings for your superior. Tut tut. Naughty thing."
“Captain-” Your voice is a strangled thing in your throat, choked by the cognitive dissonance of this, of something straight out of your wildest fantasies, a secret you keep to yourself in the dark of your bunk with your fingers buried between your thighs.
John hums, allowing his eyes to roam down your form, gently caged into the wall as you are, eyes glimmering with a hunger you didn’t know he possessed- A wolf in sheep’s clothing.
“Tell me to stop.” He murmurs then, voice serious. “I won’t touch you. I’ll transfer you if that’s what you want.”
“No.” Your answer comes so quickly it surprises even you, and suddenly your fingers are gripping on the inside of his forearms as if trying to keep him from retreating. “...Please.”
He gives you a moment, then another to reconsider, to retract your agreement and shove him off you. When you don’t, your captain grins.
“Shy little bonnie.” He croons. “Didnae have the words to ask for what you wanted from your superior, did you?”
You shudder when his gloved palm cups your cheek, leaning instinctively into it, sweet and willing. His thumb presses down on the plush bed of your bottom lip, and it takes a moment of courage to part your lips, lean forward so it rests on your tongue instead.
The sound your captain makes is carnivorous.
Hungry, wanting, dark as sin as he watches you engulf the digit and make eye contact with him, as if tempting danger. He tastes like the steel like of a sharp blade, cutting through your senses and leaving crimson want dripping against your thoughts. 
He removes his thumb so a drip of spit trails after it, and before it can spill your captain bends and kisses you.
It’s dizzying, all consuming, all open lips as he groans into you, one arm snaking around to the small of you back to balance you on wobbly legs, the other gripping your chin and directing you exactly how he wants you, tilting your head just so he can kiss you deeper. You feel unbalanced by the sheer force of it, leaving little choice but to clutch at his uniform, go a little limp in his arms and mewling into his open mouth.
“Aye, that’s it.” He groans between wet, sloppy kisses, dragging his teeth over your bottom lip and feeling you press back into him, eager for more. “Fuckin beautiful, hen.”
His warm breath spills against your open throat, where you think he might bestow a killing bite if you’d let him, groaning in appreciation at the raw, heady taste of you as he takes everything you can bear to give him. 
“Sir-” You whine when he wedges a knee between your legs, hands planted firmly on your ass so he drags your clothed cunt over the rise of his thick thigh. “Oh God-”
“No God here, love.” He huffs as your head flops gently to the side, his words fanning across the shell of your ear so you shudder. “Just you an’ me.”
That might be for the best, you think. One less witness to the act of your captain defiling you the way you’ve dreamt of for longer than you care to remember. 
Your captain’s hands grasp the fat of your ass as you give an experimental rock onto his thigh, stifling a little whimper as you do. It only makes him chuckle, dark and hungry into your ear as he nibbles on the sensitive skin  beneath your jaw. 
“C’mon lass, you can do better than that.” He huffs, and you feel him smile against your neck. “Go on, take what you need. Wanna feel you get off just from grinding on my leg like this.”
You’re not sure if you can, honestly, but gods above do you want to try. 
You grab at his neck for support, pressing him further as he bows over you, engulfs you with the heat of his frame. Then you allow your knees to fold, letting him support the weight of you as you begin to drag yourself along his thigh.
The friction is delicious, sends your nerve endings alight with sensation as the pleasure of it spills past your lips with an open groan. You wonder if the mere act of this, of humping your superior’s leg like a cat in heat while he purrs praises into your ear, does more for you than the actual motion itself. Either way, you begin to feel a warmth unfurling in your core, cunt clenching down on a needing emptiness that has you bury a whimper into his shoulder. 
“Thaaat’s it.” MacTavish- John, you wonder if he’ll let you call him, croons in your ear. “Lemme hear all those pretty noises, hen.”
You do, realizing there’s no one else to hear you. You give in, allow him to hear every hitch in your chest, every shuddering gasp and breathless plea of “S-sir-”
“Feel good?” He asks, hands kneading the swell of your ass as he helps rock you along his thigh. “Just imagine bonnie, could have had this weeks ago if you’d only let me.”
He’s right. If you’d only said something to him, had made a move on him, then you could have been having his low, Scottish lilt purr right in your ear as you try to get off ages ago.
But this is good too.
“Cannae even imagine how much it took for me not to pounce on you.” He huffs, pressing fluttering kisses against the thrum of your pulse. “All those sweet little looks you thought I couldn’t see, the way you were mooning over me like I wouldnae notice-”
“That’s- that’s not-” You try, managing to sound a little indigent despite your heaving breaths. 
“Oh I know, bonnie.” He croons with a huff of laughter. “You were just trying to be a good soldier, didn’t want to get caught seducing your superior, aye? What would the other officers think?”
You whimper at that, clutching a little tighter if only out of a remnant pulse of shame. Yet John doesn’t let you stop, drags you more insistently over the bulge of his thigh straining through his pants. 
“They don’t get to know.” He tells you, smirking. “They don’t get to know how sweet ye are like this, how pretty you look trying to come all over my leg, aye bonnie?”
You feel it rising inside you, feel your oncoming climax mount with every low rumble of words against your skin, with the way his scent clouds your senses so there’s nothing else but the sensation of him, the pleasure of you grinding your wet, empty cunt against his leg.
“C’mon, little one. Can feel you trying. What’dye need?” He huffs, and you shake your head into his shoulder. 
“Empty.” You tell him in a little, shy whisper, face burning as you refuse to look him in the eyes. Yet a hand catches your cheeks, turns you up to his gaze so you have no choice but to look into his bright, glimmering stare. 
“What was that?” He asks, and Gods, you think he may eat you alive. “Need to use your words, sweetheart.”
“E-empty.” You tell him a little louder, catching sight of the glassy eyed stare reflected in his eyes, feeling your legs shake with the effort of trying to hold your own weight. 
“Oh poor wee lass.” John sighs, bending down to kiss you again, swallowing the little whimper that bubbles up your throat. “Dinnae fash, I’ll take care of you.”
He pulls away so quickly you nearly drop to the floor, were it not for the hand slung across your hip that keeps you upright. You hear the clink of a belt, and for a single hopeful moment you think maybe it’s his, only to groan in disappointment and need as he squirms his hand past your own waistband, slinking his fingers between your folds. 
“Christ almighty, lass, you’re soaking wet.” He breathes, bracing his forehead against yours so you feel his warm huff of air on your swollen lips. “Just from this?”
Yeah. This. You want to tell him. As if ‘this’ isn’t something straight out of your wildest wet dreams, him easily handling you in close quarters, treating you with greedy hands and yet touching you as if you’re something prized, a beautiful weapon he’s admired from afar for far too long. 
When he sinks a finger into you John groans a deep, resounding noise in his chest, open and appreciating the way your slick heat instantly clenches around his fingers. 
“Fuck, the feel of you, hen.” He breathes as he pumps his fingers with deliberate slowness, as you whimper and writhe and try to force yourself down onto his hand to chase your just out of reach climax. “So warm and tight, cannae even imagine how you’d feel around my cock.”
“Please.” You gasp desperately, body flushed with want as you grind against his fingers, seeking to angle them just right. “Captain.”
The sound John makes is primal, and you’re given little warning before suddenly he’s plunging a second finger into you, giving you only a moment to adjust to the stretch before he’s setting a rapid pace that has you wail into his chest. 
“Is alright lass, I got you. C’mon, wanna feel you cum all over my hand.” He growls, panting, entire body coiled tight as he pushes you further towards your climax. “I’ll fuck you proper after, promise. Just need to feel it when you come, wanna hear how pretty you sound, c’mon-”
It’s that thought, the one of him having you right here in the lift, bending you against the wall and fucking you just like this that makes you arch with a broken little shout, clenching down hard on his fingers as he slowly works you through it, murmuring sweet endearments down at you as you tremble. You feel your walls pulse around his thick digits, coating them in slick and you realize too late he never took his glove off.
You nearly buckle as the last pulse of pleasure pulses bright and powerful through you, clutching at him with a little whimper as you come down slowly. You’re warm all over, muscles flooded with a bright release that has you wobble where you stand. The pulse of your heartbeat echoes in your ears and you try desperately to catch your breath amidst it all. 
And, naturally, that’s the moment when the lift starts moving again.
You almost entirely lose your balance when the floor beneath you jolts, squeaking as you lean fully into your captain. He doesn’t seem to be caught off guard at all. If anything, John seems amused at the sudden motion of the elevator, huffing a warm sound of disbelief up towards the ceiling. 
“Think we’ll still be late for that meeting, bonnie?” He asks, grinning mischievously, as if he didn’t just make you come so hard your knees wobble.
“No sir.” You breathe, leaning back against the wall as he pulls his hand from your pants, leaning up and licking his fingers free of your wetness. 
“Fuck.” You breathe helplessly, head flopping back. “You’re glove-”
He hums, as if just now realizing you stained the palm of his fingerless glove, pulling the velcro strap with his teeth as one hand balances you while you regain your strength. 
“Keep it safe for me.” He tells you, jamming it into your front pocket as the lift whines to a halt. “Give it back to me later. After the meeting.”
After can mean a lot of things, you realize.
The lift dings pleasantly, and your captain hauls a brawny arm to keep the door open for you, ever the gentleman. 
“Go on then lass,” He smiles, friendly and easygoing despite the knowing, hungry glimmer in his gaze. “Tell them I’ll be a few. Have to give the mechanics a talkin to.”
You nod, still a little shell shocked, a little disheveled, blinking dazedly as you scoot past him, then pause. 
Checking the hallway, you twirl around and lean up to kiss him so you hear the little breath of surprise against your lips. 
“After, captain?” You ask sweetly, blinking your lashes up at him and watching his pupils blow wide. 
“After.” He declares, voice just as sultry, leaning down to nip teasingly in front of your face, fangs and all. 
You sway off to the meeting, sneak into the back row and explain the hold up, and nobody looks at you twice, shy as you are. When your captain comes in five minutes later, only you notice the way he struts to the front of the room, smirking wide and assured as he briefs his men on their next target. 
“Weapons hot, lads.” He declares, arms crossed, a smile taunting danger. “We’re danger close.”
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smutoperator · 3 months
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Aphrodite
Jeon Heejin x Male Reader
Tags: breeding, clitorial fingering, (lots of) cowgirl, creampie, failed facefuck, goddess, mating press, mythology, poolside, public nudity
Word count: 4000.
Santorini, Greece
Heejin's life had changed a lot in such a short span. Winning the lawsuit against her former company, reuniting with her old boss, joining a new group, and getting a new solo were all things that happened to her in under a year. But no memory became more ingrained in her mind than her trip to the beautiful Greek islands of Santorini. Heejin's time in the archipelago could only be described as something straight out of a movie, starting with the moment many people asked her and Jinsoul if they were a married couple due to their matching white dresses that caught people's attention. Filming season's greetings on a Greek island for a group named after a Greek goddess was the perfect fit after all.
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Today was one of the couple of free days her group had to enjoy Santorini before heading back to Korea. Haseul, Jinsoul, Kim Lip, and Choerry all went out right in the morning, but Heejin opted to stay in the lodge the group was staying in at the top of one of the many hills of Santorini, intending to enjoy the pool and relax. She took her orange bikini, sprayed plenty of sunscreen on her body, and laid in one of the chairs poolside. Her body was glowing under Helios. Heejin had never felt so confident before, just deciding to spend the whole day playing in the pool by herself, enjoying being all alone in such a cozy and spacious lodge with no eyes watching her.
Heejin loved the total privacy she was getting that day, so much so that she started getting bolder and thinking of things she had never done before. As the hours passed by, she stripped herself naked, laid on the chair, and just closed her eyes, taking a nice and relaxing nap with her bare body on display. However, she would suddenly be disrupted by some noise.
A shocked Heejin rushed to cover her intimate parts as she saw a man repairing one of those classic white-painted houses in Santorini, panicking at the thought of him seeing her naked. She wasn't told anyone was going to make any repairs close to the lodge, unleashing her anger at the man. "What are you doing? Stop looking at me, you pervert. What are you waiting for? Get out!" Heejin furiously yelled. The man climbed down the stairs as Heejin covered her boobs with her left hand. "Are you crazy?" he asked. Indeed, you had the right to be shocked much more than her, as you definitely weren't expecting your little job you got in Santorini during tourist season to deliver such an awkward experience as seeing a naked East Asian woman yelling at you.
Heejin looked petrified, biting her nails as her cheeks turned red out of embarrassment. But her naughtier side was also looking at the sights of a muscular guy whose body seemed sculpted by the gods Greece is so famous for. She thought of the whole scene all night, struggling to sleep. Heejin's thoughts were divided between feeling embarrassed for being seen naked or for her rude behavior towards the guy. As a new day arrived, Heejin surprisingly decided to stay at the lodge once again. "I'll catch you later," she told her groupmates, as her day started like the previous one, but this time with a major headache that permeated her thoughts.
Heejin walked towards the same place where the man was doing his repairs yesterday. Her heart raced the moment she saw you shirtless working on that beautiful house. She set her sights on you, watching how you perform your craft before heading in your direction. "Excuse me?" Heejin asked. "I'm here to say I'm sorry for yesterday; I wasn't aware someone would be in the vicinity," she continued. You didn't say a word to her, pretending not to understand what she said. A saddened Heejin just ended up walking back to her lodge as you kept working.
But she wasn't going to give up easily. Heejin decided she was going to bring the guy she had a crush on by any means. A goddess always gets what she wants, especially the goddess of love and beauty. Heejin found the company the repair guy worked for and sent them a request for work in the lodge. You felt dreaded when you got the call, as you knew it was the address from the woman who had rudely yelled at you, but you had to do the job. But as you arrived at the door and rang the bell, no one was there to answer.
For a moment, you almost thought it was a prank. What if that mad East Asian woman just wanted to take revenge on you for ignoring her? Knowing your company had a 30-minute tolerance policy, Heejin made you wait for nearly the whole time while she was inside the lodge, enjoying you desperately ringing the doorbell multiple times to no avail. She got herself ready, and just as time was about to expire, a familiar silhouette appeared at the door, wearing just a black robe as if she had just gotten out of the shower.
Heejin slowly dropped the robe as she walked through the door, unveling the same body that caused the whole scuffle a day ago. Up close, she was even more stark, beautiful from top to bottom, a goddess-esque beauty. As she walked the final steps towards the door, you could only contemplate every single part of her: her perfect hair, her lustful eyes, her small nose, her cute lips, her sexy collarbones, her perky little tits, her flat belly, her bare legs, and, most importantly, her tight trimmed pussy. Your eyes just moved involuntarly at this point, going toe to head, head to toe, multiple times as if they were looking at the incarnation of a goddess.
"You're crazy," was your first reaction as you smiled. Heejin laughed. "No, I'm Aphrodite," she replied, putting her right hand on your neck as she kissed you. The goddess of love, lust, beauty, passion, pleasure, and most importantly, procreation. Heejin took the initiative from the start, unbuttonning your shirt as she kept kissing you. As she fully took your shirt off, you pushed her body closer to yours, giving her your most passionate kiss yet and running your left hand into her ass.
Heejin placed her hands on your torso and shoved you in the direction of the pool where your first meeting had happened. For a girl of her size, she was surprisingly strong, to the point that you were starting to believe she was indeed a goddess. Once you two had reached poolside, Heejin shoved you once again, this time towards not a regular pool chair but a whole king-size bed waiting for the two of you. The bed wasn't there at any moment previously, serving as a gift from the gods to their little Aphrodite. You looked at her perfect body as you lied on it, the remaining clothes on your body vanishing the moment your back hit the mattress. Heejin slowly climbed on it, crawling on top of your body as she gave you more kisses.
Her smile was beautiful and had you at your weakest every time she showed it. Her mouth sucked yours in a way resembling that of a soul eater. Heejin moved down your body and licked your still flaccid shaft for the first time, instantly turning it into a hard, throbbing, erected pole. You tugged her hair as you watched her lick it, groaning as she closed your eyes and delivered a tongue sweep of your tip. Heejin laughed as you reacted to it, repeating the move a few times before inserting it in her warm mouth, sucking it slowly while softly grabbing the base with her left hand. Her eyes full of lust looked at you as she now had both hands working her magic on your dick, using the right hand to stroke it hard while the left one still held the base.
Heejin now moved faster, turning a quick succession of blowjobs into her first deepthroat of your instrument. She had you on the edge from the start, continuing to rapidly suck it with little care if you were going to last for long. She treated your cock like a lollipop, making pop sounds as she put it in and out of her mouth and slapping it on her model-esque face and her sexy tongue. You couldn't resist her fast-paced blowjob for long as you started thrusting upwards to pound her throat. Heejin just took the hands of your cock and enjoyed your attempt to reach the depths of her mouth, trying to take as long as she could before inevitably gagging as she coughed on your penis.
Right after, Heejin gave you another smile and went back to her quick sucking ways before climbing on top of you while never keeping her hands out of your cock, stroking it fast and hard. Another fast and sloppy blowjob followed suit, and then you slowly guided her head in and out of your shaft, hearing the sexy popping noises every time her mouth pulled out of it. You gave her a pair of facefucks that made her cough once more before you too were competing to see who was faster: her hands stroking down your cock or your cock hitting Heejin up her mouth.
"I wanna ride your cock," Heejin whispered to your ear as she got it ready with hard strokes that had you throbbing harder than ever. You laid your back on the bed and watched her body cover the sun on top of you before moving to a straight position where she started grinding her entrance on your shaft. "Yeah, yeah," she softly moaned as her folds rubbed the sides of your pole. Heejin moaned the hardest when your tip hit her clit, as you held your cock firmly by the base for her to better grind on it, moving it a bit forward as she started going up, in such a way that once she went down, Heejin now had it fully inserted in her pussy.
"AHHHHHH," Heejin moaned beautifully as you filled her insides. Her ride was very slow, but she could take it deep from the start. Her moans after the first were soft and out of breath; her open mouth and closed eyes looked so visually pleasing as she bounced on your cock. "Oh, fuck, fuck. Oh God, you're so huge," she continued as she spread her legs and you ran your hands in her sexy thighs. At first, you just passively enjoyed it and let Heejin do all the work, moaning at each thrust, before joining in and pounding her from below as well. "Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah," Heejin moaned quickly before she regained her composure and increased the speed of her ride.
"Yes, rub my clit, touch my pussy," she said as you reached your left hand into her genitals. Now Heejin's ride had reached a new level as your thumb poked her clit while she kept bouncing. "Harder," you asked her, leading to more rapid moans as she picked up the pace. Heejin put her hands on your chest and moved closer to you as you took the opportunity to kiss her while giving her pussy fast and hard poundings that quickly had her screaming, leading Heejin to react with a laugther as she coped with the sudden heat in her hole. She kept herself collected and switched to a slower pace, firmly scratching her nails on your chest and kissing you before going back to her original straightening position, keeping her body away from you and leaving you as just a spectator for her pleasure.
"Such a nice big cock; make me feel it deep," Heejin ordered in whispers as she continued to ride it. Her moans increased the tune; a few ahs were replaced by many yeses, and finally a loud "OHHHHHHH FUCKKKKKK" that she screamed as if she were singing a high note. You tried once again to take advantage of her and pounce, but she was ready and just moved a little forward to keep moving as if nothing had happened. You tried to put your hands on her neck, but that didn't slow her down at all, having the opposite effect as she made sure you would now groan at each bounce.
"OH MY GODDDDD," Heejin finally showed some vulnerability, and you were finally able to strike, hitting her cunt fast and deep as her mouth opened to the fullest with her body tilting towards your chest and her screaming her lungs out right at your left ear. Heejin clings to you as you grab her from behind, and you too have a romantic makeout. She switches sides as she now faces the beautiful Aegean Sea in the background. "Yes, please give me your cock," she demands, ready for a new round of riding, but not before you slap it multiple times on her thorbbing vaginal lips, playing hide and seek with your shaft, eventually resting it under her ass as she grinds her folds on it once more. She moans as your tip goes in and you spread her cheeks for another ride, starting slowly before you spank her ass and ask her to go harder.
Heejin obliges, and with her body fully lined up against yours, she furiously rides your dick, giving you no rest whatsoever. Heejin may be the goddess, but now she's the one worshipping your divine cock. "Come on, faster," you demand of her with a big spank in her ass. Heejin goes harder, bouncing on you like a maniac as you now grab her by the waist. "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" she screams the moment you put her ride to a halt and attack her cunt full speed, only stopping to slap her butt before you give her pussy another fast attack to the point your cock slips out of it. After this burst gets you tired, Heejin now tops you with her toes on top of her thighs, but you quickly answer back, making her cute little feet tremble as you shake her base. "DON'T STOP," she demands as you give her your biggest strike, making her skin red as she gets out of breath and recoupling herself with a slow and passionate ride aftewards as you suck her perky little tits.
"My clit yes, please," she says once again as you duck your hands under her entrance and fingers her with your penis still inside her stretched babyhole. "Yeah," Heejin moans as you circle around it, even touching your own shaft in the process. Your movements now increase as you make sure to stimulate the whole surface of her clitoris. The way she still manages to bounce on your dick makes it even hotter. Her pussy gets wetter as you increase the stimulation and attack her insides with your cock once again, just resting her head down in the bed as her cunt gets destroyed. Her ass gets slapped once more as you pull out of her and let her now take turns giving you a hot ride with her body tilted to her left before taking yet another massive pounding that makes her cheeks clap, spreading her ass as you strike once more and make her let out crying-esque moans.
Overwhelmed by your length, Heejin has to slow down. And wow, she really loves the cowgirl position, taking you once again on it, but this time in reverse, putting her hands on your belly as you look at her sexy back and soft ass, but not before doing her classic pole-grinding moves on your dick. "OHHHH," you groan. "AHHHH," she groans as your cock goes back inside her tight little slit. This time, Heejin goes for a very elongated ride, almost taking your cock completely out of her pussy at the top. "Slow and deep, slow and deep," she repeats to herself, already out of breath and giving out angelic moans each time she reaches the bottom of your massive member.
"Yes, rub my pussy just like that," Heejin demands as you return to stimulate her folds, catching her by surprise to the point your cock slips out of her hole, which Heejin quickly corrects. "Keep going, keep going; work your hands in my beautiful goddess pussy," she says. You give Heejin no rest, plowing her pussy fast with both hands now on her clit, spreading it wide open for the whole world to see as her juices coat your cock. Her clit is now harder than your dick, and her nipples are fully erect as she lets out more soft screams as you take her over the moon with your fast-paced poundings.
You pull out and keep teasing her erogenous zones, circling around her nipples and rubbing your tip on Heejin's throbbing clit before putting your cock back inside her. "Shit, yes, yes, yes," she says as you give her little pumps that hit her insides, before increasing the pace as you grab her legs. "Oh, you fuck me so good!" she exclaims, her little tits bouncing at each fucking. "Rub this pussy," you order her as she starts frenetically rubbing her clit. "Please make me cum," she says as her legs clench and she lacks the strength to continue riding before recomposing herself and taking it slowly, giving your tip a great treat as it hits the hood of your clit. Heejin changes her motion with long and deep bounces at moderate speed before you start clapping your balls hard in her entrance.
"Oh, please eat my pussy; just eat my pussy," she says as she sits it on your face with her hands on your belly. "Ride my face," you order her as Heejin starts to move, holding hands with you as you lick her hard-pounded cunt. "Good boy," she praises you as she goes down for the 69, taking it deep until she coughs and spits on your penis. You slap her ass a bit, as she now has her mouth full of your balls, going fast on your dick and slapping it on your tongue. You fuck her face hard on top of you, to which she laughs, as you now grab her perky tits as well. Heejin jerks off your cock more before she gives another order. "Please fuck my mouth," she says.
You grab Heejin's hair, tying it up so her beautiful face doesn't have anything standing between it and your big cock. You start slow as Heejin also bobs her head. It turns out her mouth isn't her pussy, as an upside-down Heejin coughs all over your cock and struggles to even take it halfway in. She tries to adjust, but a quick pounding already has saliva flying all over her mouth as she bubbles on your dick. Heejin tries to smile, but she is clearly overwhelmed, instead getting on her knees and gently jerking your cock as she gives you a cute kiss.
"Fuck me from behind," she tells you as you get out of bed. Her pussy looks very stretched out and extremely wet as you spread her cheeks. Like usual, you rub your thobbing tip on Heejin's similarly thobbing inner lips and insert it first just to tease her before pulling it out. It seems like the entire blood of Heejin's body now flows to her cunt, as just a simple touch in her vaginal area makes her moan. You continue to tease her with the tip-fucking, not committing your full length, as just a quarter of your cock inside makes her scream.
As Heejin lets out her first laugh in a while, you insert your cock halfway in, still giving her slow pumps. "Such a nice ass," you praise her bottom assets, still treating her pussy gently, especially in comparison to what you did early on. But you can't resist for long, inserting it fully back on Heejin's wet pussy, leading to another scream as she reaches peak sensitivity, closing her legs and pushing your cock out of her hole. Heejin now just closes her eyes, trying to stay on her knees as you slowly fuck her slit once again. But every deeper thrust makes her lose it. You grab her cheeks as you increase the pace before deciding to use no hands and getting into rhythm. Heejin puts her head on the bed and keeps her eyes closed. "Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah," she rapdily repeats as you push harder, even squeaking a little.
You couldn't resist for long, now firmly grabbing Heejin's ass and clapping her cheeks. "Yes, yes, yes, please, please, please," she begs. Her small tits bounce a lot. At this point, you two were just exploring every possibility. As Heejin got a little less sensitive, she was now the one rocking her hips against your crotch, which ended up being bad for her as you just grabbed her butt and reasserted your dominance. "AHHHHHHHHHH!" she screamed once more as her tits were once again jiggling. Heejin held your right hand as the fire continued to burn inside her pussy; she no longer had any strength to resist your advances, just clinting to you as you destroyed her cunt nonstop, and only AHs came out of her mouth now.
Heejin turned around and opened her legs for you to eat her out; her messy hair now had untied itself and hit her eyes. You lick her like ice cream, starting at her hole and going all the way up to her little trim, before diving into her clit and making her twist. Heejin put her right foot on your back to support herself as you continued to lick her before inserting a finger in her pussy and tasting it. Now you were tonguing her clit hard to the point where she squirted a little in your mouth. You increased the hit by adding a second finger while still licking it. Heejin fell weaker, pressing her foot harder against your back as your tongue turned her folds wetter for the final round.
"Breed me. Put a baby inside a goddess; I know you want it, she told you as she put her right leg up and you slowly fucked her in missionary. You put her right foot in your mouth as you went faster. Heejin fingered herself as she waited for your cum; her insides were extremely sensitive. "Fuck me like this," she asked you as you two kept going. Your thrusts got faster but shallower as you kissed her beautiful feet and rubbed her belly. Going faster, you put Heejin under a mating press, which she enjoyed a lot, meaning she was going to get inseminated the same way the whores from the many hentais she loves to read are. Despite that, she still managed to finger herself. "Give me your cum; give me your cum," she demanded as you groaned and got closer. "Cum in my pussy," she continued, as you eventually unleashed inside her womb with your cock balls deep in her, coating her insides with your sperm as some rolled out a little while you pulled out and teased her clit for one final time with your tip.
"Wow, I can't believe you came inside me," Heejin said. "I can't say no to a goddess," you said as you returned home. The following day, you went back to the lodge but found it empty. It turns out Heejin and her ARTMS groupmates had already flown back to Korea.
Meanwhile, on the plane...
"Heejin, are you okay?" Haseul asked, sensing her groupmate's sickness. "Sorry, I'm a little sick. I think I drank too much last night when we went out," Heejin replied as she barely had time to finish her sentence, unhooking her seatbelt and rushing to the plane's bathroom, where she threw up the food she had just eaten.
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brickmvster · 3 months
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please don't go (i'll eat you whole) | Leon Kennedy x Reader
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synopsis: You make love to Leon before he leaves you.
word count: 1,906
warnings/tags: leon kennedy x fem reader, established relationship, smut with feelings, angst, pre-spain or just pre-mission in general, some light fluff if you squint kinda (i'm sorry), p in v sex/penetrative sex, unprotected sex, aftercare
author's note: i'm gonna be honest. i am a little nervous. more so than usual bc this is my first time writing for leon! i love him so much, he's definitely one of my comfort characters, and i wanted to write something angsty but also kinda bittersweet like this for a loooong time and i finally got around to it. i really hope you guys enjoy, comments are always appreciated <3 this has been proofread more than once, but just in case, any and all mistakes are mine! also, just fyi, i wrote this with re4r leon in mind, but you can imagine whichever leon floats your boat if you really want to lol.
p.s. it's not written in here but pls pee after sex 😭
minors do not interact, please and thank you!
You clung to him for dear life; as if he was going to disappear in front of your very eyes.
You were above him, peering down into his deep eyes. His eyebrows were knitted together in pleasure and his lips, which were currently rosy and swollen after the frequent kisses you had given them, were ever so slightly parted as soft groans emerged from his throat. His large hands never stayed still for longer than a minute – he gripped your waist before sliding them down to your ass, kneading the soft flesh before moving them up toward your breasts, squeezing gently, before bringing them back to your waist, where he helped with guiding your languid movements. You moved your hips like an expert, riding him as if you’d never have the chance to again.
With the rain pattering against the window and a sliver of moonlight filtering through the room, it was almost like a scene from an erotic novel. The room carried the scent of sweat and sex and was filled with the noises that spilled from your lips non-stop. You didn’t even know how much time had passed – but you knew it was late. You knew Leon had to be up in the morning. But you wanted to prolong this moment with him for as long as possible. Leon wanted to as well, as every time he got you close to your peak, he slowed down, dragging out your orgasm in a way that was almost painful, but you enjoyed every second of it.
You were growing tired, your legs beginning to shake as your rhythm became a bit off-kilter.
“Leon…” You moaned, his name coming out so softly it almost wasn’t audible. But Leon, ever so attentive, heard you loud and clear, and he knew what you were trying to tell him.
He flipped you over with ease, while he was still inside of you, spreading your legs further apart and starting up a steady pace. All you could do was grip the bed sheets, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he drilled into that spot that made you see stars. He wasn’t aggressive or rough, but his thrusts were certainly hard-hitting and relentless, and you knew you only had a few minutes.
At some point, you closed your eyes as you tried to focus on your impending orgasm, feeling as if you were in a complete haze – but Leon’s voice pierced through your foggy mind.
“Please look at me.” He said, his low voice sounding a bit strained and even a little desperate; who were you to deny him of what he wanted?
It took a momentous amount of effort, but eventually you were able to open your eyes and keep them open, looking up at him. Leon lowered himself a little, allowing you to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. The slightly different position made his thrusts feel even deeper, and you cried out into his neck, your fingers going into his shaggy blonde hair.
“Keep looking at me. Please.” He said softly, and so you did, maintaining eye contact with him the best you could as he continued to piston his hips into you. Suddenly, Leon was becoming blurry; you could feel the wetness on your face as tears began to fall. Leon often made you cry during sex – he was a fucking god in bed after all and usually made you feel so good that he’d leave you sobbing from the intense pleasure after multiple orgasms. And while that was definitely the reason you were crying now, you also knew that there was an underlying reason for your tears. Leon knew the other reason, too.
“You’re close, aren’t you?” He asked you sweetly, still keeping up his quick pace. All you could do was nod fervently, digging your nails into his back. He always loved when you did that.
“Yeah? My sweetheart is gonna cum for me?” He urged, and the pet name that rolled off of his tongue only made matters worse.
“Fuck, Leon–please, give it to me.” You said, your voice trembling. You felt all of the telltale signs. There was a tight coil forming in your lower stomach, ready to pop like a balloon. Leon could sense this, could hear it in your voice and could feel it in the way your pussy was squeezing around his cock. He raised himself just a bit, lowering his hand down between your legs, using his thumb to rub your clit in circular motions while he continued thrusting.
Leon’s name emerged from your throat so loudly that you even drowned out the rain. Your eyes squeezed shut, your back rising off the bed in a beautiful arch, your climax hitting you in waves. You felt like you were in heaven, the tears falling even more freely from your eyes now. Leon just ogled at you like you were a work of art. In his mind, you were.
He was also close, and mere seconds after your orgasm his own came crashing down on him too. With a few more sloppy thrusts he found himself stilling inside of you, his release filling you to the brim. The feeling of being so full of him was one that you would never grow tired of.
Eventually, you came down from your peak, your limbs feeling like heavyweights. All you could do was lay there and cry some more, letting every single emotion overtake you completely, your sobs shaking your entire body. Leon was comforting you in an instant, pulling out gently and lying next to you, allowing you to bury your head into his chest. The two of you laid like that for several minutes, with Leon cradling your head and rubbing your back.
You did calm down after some time passed, and that’s when Leon tried to get up, but you clung to him again.
“Please don’t go.” You said, your voice small and hoarse. “Don’t go, Leon, please.”
“I just wanna clean you up, okay?” Leon replied, wiping away the wetness on your cheeks. You didn’t even care that his cum was leaking out of you and making your thighs a mess – you just wanted him to stay by your side. But you knew he was just trying to take care of you, so you reluctantly released him.
Leon kissed your cheek before getting off the bed and going to the bathroom. While you waited for him, you tried to keep your eyes open. You didn’t want to sleep, because falling asleep meant that morning would come quicker, and truthfully you didn’t want the morning to come at all. You knew it would be coming no matter what, though – but goddamn it, you tried to prolong it the best you could, even when your eyelids were growing heavier by the second.
Leon came back, now clothed in his boxers (that you didn’t even notice he had thrown back on), a small washcloth in hand, and a glass of water that he set on the bedside table. He pushed your legs apart yet again and wiped you clean, touching you so gently as if you were some kind of porcelain doll. It only made your heart grow fonder. You were going to miss these moments of tenderness.
He made you sit up, just enough so you could drink the water that he had prepared for you. You took a small sip, to which Leon encouraged you to “drink a bit more, sweetheart,” so you did, and when he was pleased, the glass returned to its spot on the bedside table, and shortly after he was crawling underneath the comforter with you.
The warmth of the comforter and Leon’s body next to yours made it even more difficult for you to stay awake. Leon saw you struggling, catching the way you would doze off and then immediately wake yourself back up.
“Please, rest.” He muttered into your hair. You hugged him tighter.
“Do you have to go?” You asked him, even though you knew the answer.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Was all Leon could say in response.
You felt a lonely tear roll down your cheek yet again. But you were far too exhausted to cry some more. Instead, you sat up, looking at Leon intently. He returned your direct eye contact, sitting up himself to lean against the headboard and match your height.
“Promise me,” You started, holding out your hand. Without hesitation, Leon held it, locking your fingers together and giving your hand a slight squeeze.
“Promise me you’ll come back home.” You asked him, like you always did before he left for a mission. Every single time, he would give you the same answer.
“I promise.” He replied firmly. You knew deep down that asking Leon to make promises like this was unrealistic. He never fully understood what he was getting himself into until he arrived at the mission location – and you knew that despite his skills as a trained government agent, accidents always happened, and there was no way to know when things would go awry when he’s out in the middle of nowhere. But hearing him utter those two words before he left eased your worries just enough.
Trusting Leon was always easy.
“I love you.” You said softly, fitting back into Leon’s side perfectly, like you belonged there.
“I know, sweetheart. I know.” Leon replied, before tilting your chin up with two gentle fingers and kissing you with a fiery passion. You two lazily kissed each other until sleep started pulling you into its dark embrace. You didn’t fight it this time, resting your head on Leon’s chest and drifting away to the sound of his steady heartbeat.
The next morning, the two of you shared one last breakfast. You mostly sat in comfortable silence. You asked a couple questions about the mission, but didn’t get straight answers – it was confidential. You knew that already but always liked to ask questions anyway.
Right as Leon was about to walk out of your door, you stopped him. You took a few moments just to stare at him – he was as handsome as the day you fell in love with him.
You brushed some hair out of his face, kissing him slowly, savoring the feeling of his lips on yours for these last few minutes. When you pulled away, you were sporting a warm smile, feeling your eyes sting as tears threatened to spill. You kept them at bay.
“Don’t you dare–” You paused, your trembling lips making it difficult to speak. When you collected yourself, breathing in and out, you continued.
“Don’t you dare ruin this jacket. I love it on you.” You said, referring to the brown leather jacket that Leon had bought himself recently and was currently wearing. He had a tendency to ruin clothing items on his missions, and you hoped this one would survive.
Leon chuckled. The sound immediately filled you with warmth. You were going to miss that sound; God knows how long you’d have to go without hearing it everyday.
“Copy that.” Leon replied, a laugh bubbling out of your throat.
You shared one more embrace. The final hug was one the both of had trouble ending. But it had to come to an end eventually.
And then, Leon was gone. All that was left was a memory.
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fairysluna · 1 month
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To cure your writer‘s block: Maegor Targaryen + breeding his niece to get an heir 🤭
I wrote this on a rush, and this is my first attempt to write for Maegor after months. I hope you like this, my maegor queen 👑. Ily🤍
TW: smut, breeding kink, targcest, targ!fem!reader.
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His whole weight was pressing you down, caging you between his broad body and the mattress beneath you. His hand was around your neck, squeezing it tight as his hips kept snapping against your arse over and over. You were sobbing, gasping and mewling as he ripped another orgasm out of you; you had lost count on how many times he had made you peak, too drunk in pleasure to even think straight. His cock would stretch you out so deliciously that it made you drool onto the sheets, your tightness wrapping him so good it made his body shake.
The sticky mess between your legs grew bigger when your release washed over you; his seed oozed out of you and he grunted in disapproval, hating to see it go to waste. You were so full already, yet it wasn't enough for him. “Keep it in or I'll have to fill you up again,” he groaned.
“I c-can’t…” you managed to mumble between loud sobs, feeling his cock emptying itself inside of you for what you thought was the third time. Your spongy walls clamped down his shaft, making him tremble as he was accidentally overstimulating himself. “I’m… I'm so full, p-please…”
“Uh, uh…” Maegor hummed, hissing as he pulled out of you. He turned you around, noticing the mess he had made out of you; your platinum hair sticking in your face due to the sweat and tears that had fallen down your cheeks. The bruises on your skin as a sign of his roughness, the one you loved so much. He hummed, pleased with what he was seeing. “You should not let it go to waste.”
You yelped when he lifted your hips, wrapping his arms around your belly and placing your legs on his shoulders. It was an uncomfortable position for you, but seeing the bewitched glint on his eyes, how pussydrunk he looked for you, made it all worth it. He spat on your cunt, and with his fingers he collected the seed that had tried to escape from you and put it back, burying his fingers deep inside of you. You squirmed, already feeling achy and sore, yet he didn't seem to care. “Stubborn little girl,” he murmured, seeing how you clenched around his fingers. Pearly drops escaped from your weeping entrance. “Guess I will have to fill you up one more time, just to make sure.”
“Maegor…” you begged him, not sure if you were going to be able to handle another one. However, the way you uttered his name lightened something primal within him, making it impossible to resist you. He let go of your hips, only to spread your legs as wide as possible. The coldness of the winter breeze reached your reddened flesh and made you cry out louder than it should.
“Shh… be a good girl for your king and take what I'm giving you.” Before you could answer, his thick head made its way inside of you, stretching you once more and making you squeal.
It was going to be a long night.
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follow @by-fairysluna for updates!
GENERAL TAG LIST — @islandfantasydream @arcielee @bucknastysbabe @zaldritzosrose @rafeism @valeskafics
MAEGOR TAG LIST — @targaryen-dynasty @hypocritic-trash-baby @mariahossain
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elryuse · 5 months
Text
NIGHT'S TO REMEMBER
BLACKPINK LISA X MALE READER
Tags : Stripper Lisa, Teasing, Dirty talk, Blowjob, Cowgirl, Creampie.
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You were just walking home after a long day of office work. You just want to go home and have some nice rest. But sadly your office friend wanted to go somewhere else. You can only sigh as your friends walk you around the busy streets of Seoul.
But you surely are surprised when you see that neon sign on that tiny looking building. You can only swallow your saliva. "Shit this is not what I think it is right"?? Your friends only laugh seeing your reactions.
"Broo why are u reacting like that". Your friends started laughing before forcing you to enter the dimly lit looking building. As you enter the building your eyes are in awe. The atmosphere there was like nothing you've ever entered before. People were just chilling there, Enjoying each other companies.
Suddenly a whole crowd of good looking girls started to enter the building wearing some sexy and seductive clothing. They started walking around and started to get closer to every guest that was present in their sight.
One girl in particular however has fully caught your attention. She was wearing those slutty and naughty looking outfits. She was also wearing a green mint colored wig to make her appearance more fresh and more mysterious.
Recognizing that this place is a strip club, You can only think about what wild things that would be happening tonight. To your suprise all of your friends have already left you all alone. They have already found a girl that suits their liking and started to play their way with those girls.
Since you basically don't know what to do at this point. So you just sat there enjoying your small cup of coke and a small plate of fries. That is until that one particular girl started to approach you.. At first you think that she's just passing by. But after she started to get closer and closer to you.. You immediately get surprised.
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"Hi there baby... My name is Lisa". She offers you a hand, Without knowing too much about what's going on you took her hands and give her a handshake. " I-i'.m Y/n... Nice to meet you Lisa". She smiles brightly, "Y/n what a beautiful name.. So tell me Y/n. What are you doing at a place like this"?.
"Uhmmm actually it was my friends idea.. I've never been to a strip club before... So yeahh". You chukles earning a small laugh from Lisa's mouth. " So you've never been at a strip club? Like at all"? She asked. "Yeah... ". She laughs once more before taking your hand and forcing you to walk with her.
"Since it's your first time doing this... How about we do something special".
"H-huh... What do you mean by something special"??.
"Ahahaha you'll seee don't worry... I'll take good care of you baby... ".
In the end Lisa took you to a more secluded space deep inside the club. Inside there was a small stage where the strippers could perform their play. Without thinking too long, Lisa started to prepare her stuff for her small play.
She started dressing more freely and used her black laced lingerie before putting you on a single couch where you would watch her perform her sensual dances. She also removed her wig revealing her dark brown hair which was silkier than silk itself.
After placing you at your seating Lisa started dancing sensually, teasing you with her slutty look, her petite looking body desiring to be fucked. She placed all of that thought deep inside your minds, Practically begging you to fuck her.
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"Like what you see baby boy"?
"W-wow... Uhmm *gulp* You're so beautiful Lisa".
"I know... *smirk* I'll give you more if you'll give me what I want".
"A-and what is that"?
Lisa started to get closer and closer to you before kneeling down, Getting all touchy with the bottom half of your body.
"If you promise to give me a good fuck... I'll let you have my body all you want... *giggles* That is if you cannn".
"F-fuck.. ".
Lisa started to remove your pants revealing how big a bulge of your dick had gotten.
"Oooooh... What a big thing you got down there.... *giggle* It's a shame nobody has ever tasted this...".
"Hmmm *moans* L-lisaa your hands are so soft".
"I know right *giggles* It will not just be handjobs though.... If you kiss me... I'll let my mouth do it's job for u".
" *gulp* ".
In the end, I Gave Lisa what she wanted. A long and passionate kiss. But this only makes her hornier. The slow and passionate kiss becomes more and more sensual as her youngest starts making its way inside of your mouth..
"Fuckkk you're a good kisser for a newbie.. ".
"T-thankkss... Y-youre kiss was amazing too".
Lisa giggled before starting to undress her clothes as well. Her body was skinny yet she was incredibly fit. She even has well formed abs showing in her abdomen. Even though her breast wasn't the largest, It fits your hands incredibly well.
"I know it's not the biggest.... But.. ".
"It's beautiful... So beautiful.... ".
" *giggled* T-thanks... Nobody ever said that to me before... Soo.. Yeah... *kisses you once more* Let me return the favor ".
In the end Lisa tied her hair, Before giving your cock her wet saliva. She started pumping your cock up and down... Before she places it right between her mouth.
"Are you ready baby... ".
" *Gulp* I hope so".
" *giggles* Ahahha well... Let's see".
Gulped... Lisa has now fully inserted your cock deep inside her throat. She sucked it up and down.... Making some sensual noises in the process. You caresses her dark brown hair... Before moaning to each pleasure you get from her blowjobs.
"Gulp... Gulpp... Gawk... Gawk... *moans* ".
"So good... Fuck... *moans* ".
After you get close... You immediately tell Lisa that you're about to cum. But instead of letting go... Lisa started to give you a deepthroat making you climax and immediately cum deep inside her throat.. Lisa started choking a little bit.. Before letting go of your cock.
"Hwhehehhee... So full... Mhmmm *open her mouth which is full of your cum* Look at this.. Wow... You cum so much baby... ".
"Hah... Hah... That was so good... *moan* Fuckk Lisa you're too good".
"Hehehe... We're not done just yet baby... ".
"W-what... We're not"?
"Of course not... I haven't tasted you down here... *rubbing her wet pussy* ".
"Shit... ".
And with that Lisa started to position herself, Making sure that your tip fitted perfectly with her pussy. After a few strokes and a few reading from her, Lisa then fully inserted your cock inside her pussy.
"FUCKKKKK.... MHMMM *moans* YOUR SO BIG".
"mhmm fuck... you're so tight L-lisaa".
Lisa started to grind her hips sensually, Increasing your pleasure even more... The way her walls are tightly gripping into your cock was so hotttt. Lisa's eyes were locked onto your own, Helplessly sucking dry your whole essence.
"Hmmmm.... Mhmmmm Do you like the way I grind you baby.... Fuck.... ".
"So... Good... You're so Good at this.. ".
" *giggles* I know... ".
In the end Her grinding became harder and harder, Her hands became more touchy, and Her moans were filling the whole room. You tried your best to resist the urge to just cum deep inside her... But you don't... You tried to last as long as you can.
But knowinh that you're holding back.. Lisa suddenly choked your neck... While pinning you down... She then gets close to your ears before whispering...
"I'm not on the pill tonight..... And I want you to cummm deepp insideee mee baby..... *giggles* Can u do that for mee... ".
"Fuck.. Y-yes... I can... ".
"Goood... *started to grind her hips harder* Fuck... Baby... Ahhhh... Mjmmm".
You helplessly thrust your cock deep into her womb, As Lisa experiences her euphoria. She giggled and started laughing before giving your lips another succulent kiss.. The kiss lasted long... But that is not what she truly wanted... What Lisa wanted now... Is for u to cum deep inside her womb... Impregnating her... With your seeds.
"Fuckkkkk Imm cummmingg babyyy..... ".
"Mee tooo... Fuckkk I'm gonna cumm".
"Inside mee... Inside me babyyyyy... Fill me upp... Mhmmm ah... ".
"FUCKKKKKKK *Splurtttt* Fuck.. ".
"Ahhhh *moans* Fuckkk fuckk... Mhmmm".
In the end you released all of your seeds deep inside her womb, just like what she wanted from you. You both pause for a minute to breathe some air... But after that Lisa immediately hughed you... Kissing you non stop.... She thinks she just found herself her new soulmate....
"How about I stay at your place for tonight.... *smirk* ".
"S-sure... Let's get out of here... *smiles* Baby".
~ THE END ~
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denim-mixtapes · 1 year
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Showstopper
And I know it's just a phase, you're not in love with me, but if you wanna piss off your parents, baby, that's alright with me.
Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Reader Word Count: Just over 15k Summary: Dreading going home to strict parents over Thanksgiving break, your good friend Eddie Munson offers to tag along and pretend to be your boyfriend to get under their skin and take their focus off of you. Over tense dinners and pointed conversation, you seek comfort in his closeness, blurring the lines between fact and fiction. (Based on the song 18 by Anarbor) Warnings: NSFW 18+ SMUT, Minors DNI or I'll stub all your toes. Tense family dynamics, strict/overbearing parents, idiot friends to fuck buddies, teasing, fingering, oral (both f & m receiving), squirting, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, forced orgasm if you blink, unprotected sex (DON'T DO THAT, STUPID), an stupid amount of pet names (baby, sweetheart, princess, sweet thing) instead of Y/N. I think that's it but lemme know if I missed anything!
[Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] <- Coming Soon! [AO3]
a/n: I meant to post this on Thanksgiving, but it...got away from me as you can tell from the word count. Sorry for the delay and for the long lead up before the actual smut but I hope yall enjoy!!
The first time you met Eddie Munson, you threatened him with pepper spray. 
Okay so maybe it was actually hair spray, but the threat was there. 
He had walked into your dorm room unannounced, and in a moment of panic you completely forgot you had a roommate that could potentially have visitors. All you knew was that you were alone in your dorm, and then without any preamble or warning, there was a mysterious man with long hair, dark features, and wrapped in leather letting himself in. 
And he believed you at first, he really did, held his hands up in defense and stepped back out into the threshold with wide eyes and an apologetic ramble. Until he noticed that your trembling hand was not clutching a can of mace, but a travel sized bottle of Aqua Net, shaking just as much as you were. 
He couldn’t help but laugh. 
He still stayed back, knowing that you were not his intended target and surely you must be nerrvous, but dropped his hands to lean on the door frame, his whole body shaking with laughter. Despite your initial fear, his humor was contagious. The once intimidating man who stood tall and broad was hunched with laughter, his eyes wrinkling around the edges when his smile widened. You couldn’t help but soften and lower your arm, chuckling a little (albeit nervously) along with him. 
“Yeah, killer,” he laughed, voice low and smooth, “put that thing down before you hurt someone. Or worse, make ‘em crispy.” 
“I– panicked,” you admitted, defeated. Then, standing taller again, trying to keep your defenses strong, “but what are you doing walking into random girls' dorms?” 
“Uh, Buckley,” the stranger pointed to your roommate’s side of the room. “Robin Buckley? She lives here, right?” You nodded. “We’re friends, I’m meeting her for dinner and she told me to come on up when I got here. She said you’d be in class.” 
Huh. You’d have to talk to her about warning you before she let just anyone walk on in unannounced. 
“Canceled,” you mumbled in explanation, then gestured to Robin’s bed. “Uh I guess I won’t make you sit out in the hall. You can wait for her here.” 
A wide, toothy grin spread over his features and he approached you with big, thankful eyes shining under the fluorescent overhead lighting. A hand outstretched, he replied, “appreciated. ‘M Eddie.” 
And so began a blossoming friendship. Over the rest of your freshman year, Robin introduced you to more of her friends. You didn’t have trouble making your own friends, per se, you had a few classmates who you would grab lunch with between classes and a couple study groups, but the people your roommate introduced you to just clicked with you. You heard all about her girlfriend Nancy, though she was off in Boston at Emerson, so you only ever spoke to her when Robin had her on speaker phone. Everyone else just kind of came along naturally. You were attending school far from home, but within reasonable distance from Robin’s hometown of Hawkins, so even though Eddie and her best friend Steve weren’t attending college anywhere, they often found themselves on your campus to bug your roommate (and by proxy, you). 
By the end of your first year at school, you were confident you were part of their crew, and you were happily signing up to room with Robin once again the following year. 
Which is what brought you here. 
You’re laying in bed, feet thrown up against the cinder block walls and your head hanging over the edge, Robin mirroring you on her own bed. Steve has long since gotten dizzy and sat upright next to Robin, and Eddie called you all ridiculous from the get go and chose to lay on your bean bag chair between the three of you. 
“What the fuck am I gonna do,” you moan, scrubbing your hands down your face in defeat. 
“I’m sure it’ll be okay, babe,” Robin assures, though you know she is just blindly trying to comfort you. 
“Okay,” Steve leans forward, elbows on his knees and squints at you. The effects of Eddie’s special cookies are hitting all four of you hard, all of you lazy and sluggish and a little less cohesive than your usual state. “Explain to me again what the problem is? It sounds like your mom just wants you home for Thanksgiving.” 
Sitting up slowly and trying to ignore the head rush you get from being upright once again, you gripe, “that is the problem. I went to school across the country from home for a reason. I’m already going back next month for winter break and I want to be there…as little as possible. So I was hoping I could work through Thanksgiving break like last year.” 
“No dice?” Eddie asks from his spot on the floor, even though you swear you’ve gone over this with all of them three times by now. 
“No,” you grumble, “last year I worked in the caf, so it was no problem, they were open all break for students staying on campus This year–” 
“The library closes over break.” Robin cut you off to supply. 
You only nod pitifully, slumping back into your stack of pillows with a hmph. You’re aware that you’re being dramatic, but you’ve grown accustomed to your life away from home. Away from watchful eyes and curfews at 19 years old and sharp comments about your wardrobe that honestly, could be much, much worse. The last thing you want to do is return home and be treated like a child again. 
Eddie’s fingers wrap around your ankle comfortingly, but he hits a ticklish spot and you kick at his hand lightly, laughing all the while. 
“Home is really that miserable, huh?” He asks quietly. Not prying, not judging, just pondering. 
“I have a dad who still treats me like I’m seven and a mom who keeps trying to set me up with members of her church in hopes that they’ll ‘lead me back down the right path’…what do you think?” 
Your three friends mumble a series of one word replies all at once. “Yikes.” “Barf.” “Christ.”
The conversation moves on after that. Robin and Steve arguing about Back to the Future, something they always seem to go back to when they’re high. She told you once that they saw it in theaters the first time they smoked together, but the way that neither of them could keep a straight face told you there was more to the story. You half listen, grumbling to yourself and counting the browning ceiling tiles above you. 
Your mattress dips and you look up to see Eddie grinning at you behind a curtain of hair, sitting cross legged on the spot next to you. 
“What?” You ask through a laugh, eyeing him briefly before going back to the task at hand, the ceiling tiles. 
He nudges you with his knee, trying to get your attention. “You know what you should do?” Your response is no more than a hum adorned with a question mark, but it prompts him to continue. There’s a gleam in his eye when he goes on, “somethin’ wild. Show up at home with a tattoo or bright purple hair. Or a tongue ring! Something to push their buttons and shock ‘em a little.” 
Eddie Munson always has a way of turning your mood around. His joy is infectious. If he’s laughing, you’re not too far behind him, and it’s always been that way. Likewise, he’s quick to follow when you dissolve into giggle fits, his demeanor and pose always mimics yours, just like now when he ends up on his back beside you, legs dangling sideways off the edge. 
You end up passing ideas back and forth for a few minutes. 
“Teardrop tattoo,” he says, snorting. 
“A pentagram.” 
“You could shave one side of your head.” 
“Or my eyebrows.” 
“Get tattoos where your eyebrows used to be. Something classy like…hail Satan.” 
“Or Daddy’s girl,” you sputter, unable to hold back the raucous laughter any longer. 
Eddie joins you, practically cackling with how sudden it is. “I think that’s it. That’s the one.” 
And then it hits you. Something still just as shocking as showing up with a tattoo, but much less permanent. It’s right in front of you, it has been the whole time. You sit up suddenly enough to get Steve and Robin’s attention and grin wildly down at Eddie. 
It’s his turn to mumble out a soft, “what?” enraptured by your sudden intensity.
“I think I’ve got something better. Something that won’t cost me hundreds of dollars or my future chances at employment.” 
“Go on,” he urges. 
“You come home with me.” 
From the other half of your room, Robin and Steve shout their confusion in unison, but Eddie just sits up to mirror you, mischief etched in his smile. “How bold of you, sweetheart. You know, I’m surprised it took you this long to ask.” 
“No- shut up,” you laugh, shoving at his shoulder lightly. “I’m serious. You just told us earlier your uncle has to work on Thanksgiving. Come back to my parents with me. You’ll get a home cooked meal, all the fixings, really, my mom goes crazy. I mean this with all the love in my heart but if I bring home a guy like you?” You giggle, “my dad’ll lose his shit.” 
“You flatter me,” he chuckles. Then, smirking, “you askin’ me to be your fake boyfriend, sweetheart?” 
“I– yeah.” 
“Hell yeah,” he nods, “I’m in. When are we leaving?” 
Robin throws a pillow at you, missing terribly but still getting your attention. “What the fuck just happened?” 
As promised, as soon as your last class on Tuesday let out, you loaded up your car and headed to Hawkins to pick up your boyfriend-for-the-week. He’s waiting for you outside his trailer, leaning heavily against the stairway railing, ankles crossed, cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth. He doesn’t have much by way of luggage, just a tattered olive green backpack hanging off of one shoulder that he throws in the back seat alongside your prim camel colored leather duffel bag. 
When he slides into the passenger seat he leans into your personal space, drawing out his greeting with a smug smile. “Hi, darling.” 
“Hey,” you greet, palming his face and lightly shoving it away. “You ready?” 
Eddie Munson practically pouts at you. “What, no hello kiss?” 
“Can it, Munson,” you chide before shifting your car in gear. “You’re not on the clock yet. We still have a four hour drive before you’re officially the boyfriend.” 
“I’m just saying,” he shrugs, “it’ll be a hell of a lot more believable if we have a little practice beforehand. I mean- we’re going to have to put on a show, right? A good actor doesn’t go in blind. They run lines. Rehearse. Don’t want you freezing up in shock when I plant one on you in front of dear ol’ Dad for the first time, do we?” 
He’s leaning into you again, speaking with a kind of intensity only Eddie can, and it makes you shake your head. 
“Okay, well, I’m kinda busy driving at the moment. I’ll get back to you at the next rest stop.” 
The first stretch on the open road is spent concocting a story. How you met, how long you’ve been together, things that might come up in conversation. Something not far from the truth, so that you could keep your stories straight, but embellished a little where you needed to. He supplies the story for your first date, dinner at a diner and live music somewhere on campus. You raise him dinner at a dive bar and listening to cassettes in the back of his van. He calls you diabolical. 
At your first stop, about an hour in for gas and snacks, he offers to drive until the next stop and you pass him the keys with a soft smile and a hurried kiss to the corner of his mouth. It’s fleeting, over before it’s even started because it stuns him, and you skip away to the passenger side feeling way more smug than you have any right being. 
“Who were we worried about freezing up, again?” You asked over the roof of the car, ducking at the last second when he throws a balled up napkin at you. 
For this portion of the drive, you take the opportunity to get to know one another. Favorites and firsts, pet peeves and guilty pleasures. Some things you knew already after a year of friendship, the little things like favorite bands and movies, but you knew you needed more than that to be a believable couple. You learn that he loves the smell after it rains and that even though he hates raisins, he loves cinnamon raisin bagels because they remind him of his Uncle Wayne. He learns that your favorite color changes with your mood, about your irrational fear of revolving doors, and the exact number of blankets you absolutely need in order to fall asleep (though he had his suspicions, he’s seen you make your bed before). 
Over your game of twenty questions, his hand wanders from the wheel to the gear shift, the movement subtle because he’s always talking with his hands, and eventually it lands hesitantly on your thigh. You pretend not to notice, but bite back a smile and catch yourself flushing in the reflection of the window nonetheless. 
After another hour or so of driving you make him pull over for a bathroom break and offer to take the wheel again when you’re done. You make to take the keys from him, but he’s quick to hold them over his head, just out of reach. 
“Hey!” You complain, now your turn to invade his personal space to try and steal the keys back. “It’s my car. Let me take over!” 
You’re suddenly hyper aware of how close your faces are when a slow smirk spreads over his lips. “Now, baby, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I made you drive when I’m right here, fully capable?” 
“Damn, Munson.” You snark, “we’ve been together all of two hours and you’re already trying to turn me into a passenger princess?” 
“Maybe I am.” His free hand wraps around your waist, landing at the small of your back to pull you just a little bit closer, closing the gap between you. You let out a small yelp of surprise that Eddie quickly swallows, his lips landing on yours harder and more insistent than the last kiss you shared. Your shock wears off quickly, leaving you leaning into his embrace with a happy hum in the back of your throat. Just as he swipes his tongue over your bottom lip, you’re made aware of your surroundings when a passerby clears their throat. When you pull away and catch a glimpse of his face, you’re certain you’re going to have to get used to that damn smirk. It seems to be his natural resting face since you asked him to do this, and god if it doesn’t suit him. “I kinda like that term,” he mumbles, emphasizing the new pet name as he ushers you around to the passenger seat, repeating it back into your ear with a hushed breath, “princess.”
You’ll have to get used to all the blushing too. 
With a lead foot and a hand absent-mindedly tapping along to the radio on your thigh, Eddie manages to shave a half an hour off the rest of the drive, and before you know it and without another rest stop, you’re directing him off the highway and through the cozy streets of your small hometown. You managed to give him a run down on all of the relatives he could possibly meet this weekend. Who to watch out for and who to actually play nice with (really, it’s just your parents to look out for), names and how they’re related to you as if there would be a quiz at the end of Thanksgiving dinner. Hell, knowing how overprotective your parents are there very well could be. 
It’s silent when he pulls into your parents driveway and cuts the engine, so quiet you fear he might hear your heart beating rapidly against your ribcage. Staring down the house, the walkway seems to stretch out longer than you remember. Your heart leaps into your throat. 
“Hey.” Squeezing at your knee where his hand is still resting, Eddie’s voice is sincere. When you turn to look at him, his eyes are soft, encouraging. He lets his head rest back against the seat with a thump and smiles. “I know I’m here to piss off your parents, but I’m still your friend, too. I’ll be right by your side all weekend, if it ever gets too much, just say the word and I’ve got you, okay?” 
You’re not sure where this burst of sentiment came from, but you’re grateful for it. His words wrap around your heart and squeeze, and you blink back the tears they bring. Though you’ve had fun planning to torment your family, there was still a weight on your chest every time you thought about going home and Eddie, ever observant, could tell. 
“Kay,” you say softly, mouthing an even quieter thank you. Then, leaning across the center console, you brighten up. “Run lines one more time before the big scene?” 
It’s a bold request, a little selfish, partly because you want to stall a little longer but frankly, you just want to kiss him again in the safety and comfort of your car. Where it can be just that, a kiss. You want another moment all to yourself without the watchful eye of your family, and without the obligation of having to prove something.
He kisses you lazy this time, hands framing your face, lips dragging slowly against yours like he has all the time in the world. Like he’s stretching out this moment so you don’t have to face the next one. Your eyes flutter shut and you reach for him clumsily over the console, clutching onto the lapel of his leather jacket like he was going to float away if you didn’t. 
You don’t want to admit it, but you could get used to kissing Eddie Munson, charade or not.
When you part ways and reluctantly make your way inside, Eddie insists on carrying both your bag and his own. You try to argue but he has none of it. You let yourself in the front door and call out a greeting. 
Christmas music filters in from the back of the house alongside the smell of your mom’s famous baked spaghetti. “In the den!” Her voice calls out from the same direction as the music. Toeing off your shoes, you gesture for Eddie to follow you through the halls and into the den. It’s the picture of your childhood, exactly as you remember. Your dad is hidden behind the newspaper, houseshoes propped up on the coffee table. In her armchair facing away from the door, your mom is curled up with a book, reading glasses perched on the end of her slender nose. She feels your presence and greets you without looking up. “Hi honey! Give me just a second to finish this paragraph and I’ll get up, give you a big hug.” 
Eddie’s presence is solid against you, warm, and his firm hand at the small of your back is a constant reminder that he’s there within reach. You try to speak up, to introduce him, but your throat goes dry, and soon enough your mother is tossing her book on the coffee table and standing to greet you. 
“Sorry honey, I – oh, hello!” She’s shocked, clearly, but still keeps a polite, tight smile. “Who’s this?” 
Prompted by her comment, your dad folds down one corner of the newspaper to glance up at you. His poker face isn’t as great. You can see the glare flash across his features before he folds the paper and stands. When he says hello to you, it's with a bright smile and a tight hug, but the second he addresses Eddie, his demeanor chills again. 
“Guys this is Eddie,” you introduce, reaching behind you to take his hand. The words feel clumsy on your tongue, but you manage to play off the stutter as nerves. “My boy– my boyfriend.” 
You could hear a pin drop. 
In the silence that follows, you begin to rethink this entire plan. You suddenly feel so small, back in your childhood home and under the intense stare of your parents (though your dad’s eyes are definitely more trained on Eddie’s every move than your own). But you didn’t come all this way and drag your friend all this way to back down now, so you take their stunned silence as an opportunity to turn in Eddie’s hold and grin at him eagerly, mouthing the word showtime. 
He takes his cue, cupping your cheek in a warm palm and dragging you toward him to close the little distance between you. It feels different this time, like he has something to prove. He’s insistent, leaning into you hungrily and nipping at your lips with a wicked chuckle under his breath as he retreats. He stands at full height again to finally address your parents. 
“Thanks for having me, sir,” he quips, and he salutes, actually fucking salutes, much to your father’s outrage. Then he turns a charming smile on your mother, “ma’am.” 
His kill-them-with-kindness attitude and sickeningly sweet fake politeness has you biting back a laugh, but nobody in this room is paying an ounce of attention to you. 
Thank God.
The rage in your father’s voice is unmistakable, the heat of it pours from him in waves when he responds. “I would say it’s my pleasure but I don’t remember inviting you, son.” You’re afraid to look too closely, but you’re almost certain the vein on his forehead is fit to burst already and you’ve only just arrived. 
“Honey,” your mother pipes up, putting a calming hand on her husband’s arm, though you can hear the strain in her voice as well. “When you called and said you were bringing a friend who had nowhere to go for the holiday I…well I thought it was going to be Robin.” 
“Oh, no,” your lips press into a line, and without thinking, you reach out for Eddie’s hand for support, breath hitching at the bite of cold metal from the various rings he’s always sporting. “Her family is big on holidays. Never miss one. But…” Giving Eddie’s hand a tug to pull him closer to you, your other hand comes up to rest on his shoulder, giving it a gentle pat for good measure. You ham it up, laying your head on his shoulder with a dreamy smile as you continue. “Eddie’s only family is his Uncle Wayne, and he’s going to be workin’ a double on Thursday. I couldn’t just leave him behind with a frozen TV dinner for Thanksgiving of all days.” 
Though strict, you know your mom isn’t made of stone. She can’t resist a sob story and she’s a sucker for any holiday, so despite the concern in her eyes and a husband fit to start screaming any moment, she smiles and nods. 
“Of course, honey,” Her voice softens, though her guard is still up. She turns her pointed smile on Eddie and gestures to the door, “the guest room is already made up for you, and it would be a shame to spend the holiday alone, so we’re happy to have you, Eddie.” 
The sound you make is somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. “Mom! That’s hardly necessary. I’m an adult, I’m perfectly capable of sharing a bed with my boyfriend.” 
Eddie quirks an interested brow at you but you roll your eyes in dismissal. 
It’s not that you want to share a room with Eddie. If you’re being honest, you haven’t really put much thought to the sleeping situation. It only makes sense that he would take the guest room…but you also know that if the goal is to get under your parents’ skin, this is the way to do it, so you give a petulant whine and a huff for good measure. 
It’s your father who speaks up this time, pushing forward and deliberately between you and Eddie to break your embrace as he makes his way toward the stairs. “Absolutely not,” he doesn’t look at you as he speaks, only stops near the door to pick up both of your bags and continue up the stairs. “You are nineteen, just barely. That may make you an adult on paper but you are still my child and a guest in this house so you’ll do as I say.” Passing your childhood bedroom, he drops your duffel at the door with a scowl and moves two doors down to the guest room where he throws Eddie’s knapsack even harder onto the bed. “And we don’t know this punk from Adam. You’re lucky we’re letting him stay at all, so be grateful for what you have, which is only two doors separating you.” 
Ever the peacemaker, your mom steps in and clears her throat. “What your father means is that we would just both be more…comfortable if – for this trip – Eddie stayed in here. Right, Dear?” 
Your father sighs, “yes, yes, that’s exactly it.” 
“Anyway,” she tries to move past it, like she always has, sweeping his anger under the rug and trying to move on before there can be any more unpleasantries. It’s one of the things you hated most about being home, the fact that she so clearly agreed with most of his conservative and overprotective views but tried so hard to make it seem like she was on your side. She moves in to give you another tight hug. “We’re so happy you’re here, honey. Dinner will be ready soon, why don’t you two get settled in and then meet us in the dining room?” 
You thank her softly and a little insincerely, and the pair of them retreat back down the stairs, allowing you to let out the breath you’ve been holding. 
“Jesus Christ, I get what you mean.” Eddie Mumbles, and you only groan in agreement, falling gracelessly onto the edge of the bed with your head in your hands. The bed dips as he joins you, and soon enough you’re both laughing softly at the absurdity of the situation. “Hey,” he nudges your shoulder with his own, “you’re killing it.” 
“Hardly,” you snort, “I feel like I’m a kid again. It just…this all sounded fun in theory but I forgot how small they make me feel.” 
“All the more reason to keep on keepin’ on. C’mon, I want to see how many more times we can make that vein in his forehead pop.” A reassuring arm wraps around your shoulder and shakes you lightly until you let out a soft laugh. “There she is! Nice touch demanding that I stay in your room, by the way. Really! If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you actually wanted me to.” 
“You’re an idiot,” you giggle, standing up and stretching out your tired limbs. “Come on, let’s go eat.” 
The rest of the night goes rather uneventfully. It’s tense, for sure, but the initial shock has worn off and by the way your parents are acting, you’re certain they managed to sneak in a drink each while you were upstairs. The conversation over dinner is mostly focused on you, how your semester is going and how much you like your job. You ask them about their careers, about family members you haven’t seen in a while. Eventually your mother’s need to be seen as polite prompts her to include Eddie in her questioning, but she keeps it mild for now, asking how he liked the drive to your hometown and if the food was to his taste. 
After dinner your mom offers coffee and a movie, but the long drive and your early alarm for school this morning are an easy enough excuse to retire early and get a good long night’s sleep before the rest of your family arrives tomorrow. 
When you part ways in the hall at the top of the stairs, he stops you with a hand on your wrist and a mischievous grin. 
“What?” You laugh, looking down the stairs, “You want a goodnight kiss now, too? They’re not watching.” 
“Here,” he replies, reaching for the back collar of his tattered Black Sabbath t-shirt and pulling it over his head effortlessly. He hands the shirt over to you and gives it a little shake, “wear it down to breakfast in the morning, yeah? It’ll drive them crazy.” 
You thank him as you take the shirt from his hand and smile, trying your best not to let your eyes linger on his exposed skin, pale and littered with tattoos, some you’re just now seeing for the first time. With a blush and a shake of your head, you bid him goodnight and retreat to your bedroom. 
The morning of Thanksgiving brings another early wake up call, but it’s hardly a surprise. Holidays have always been this way, up at the crack of dawn and helping in the kitchen all day since you were old enough to snap green beans. It’s not all bad, some of your best memories are with your mother and aunt in the kitchen. Cooking together almost made you forget how unbearable it was to be home. 
It goes as it always does, the two of you still in your pajamas, getting the more annoying and time consuming prep out of the way before anyone else wakes up. When your dad joins you in the kitchen, already fully dressed and sporting a tired scowl, you make the coffee while your mom pauses to throw the breakfast casserole she’d prepared the night before into the oven. You’re like a well oiled machine, and you work together so well that she almost doesn’t notice your choice in sleepwear. 
Almost. 
“Honey, why don’t you go upstairs and change into something a little more appropriate?” She suggests coolly. “I can hold down the fort until Aunt Ellen gets here.” 
“Aw,” you pout softly, pouring your own cup of coffee. You know why she’s urging you to change, and it makes you want to push the issue even further. “But we always stay in our pajamas until Grandma’s on her way! Even Aunt Ellen brings her comfies to cook in and a change of clothes for dinner.” 
“You and I both know that is hardly your typical sleepwear, dear.” Your father grunts from behind the morning paper. 
Although she bristles at his blunt choice of words, your mom looks at you with concern, clearly agreeing with him. 
You only huff, watching the creamer swirl as you pour it into the darkness of the mug. You’re about to respond when a pair of warm hands wrap around your waist from behind, making you jump. 
“I think you look killer,” Eddie chuckles at your surprise, his head nestling into the crook of your neck to press a kiss just behind your ear. “Y’wear that thing better than I do, Sweetheart.” 
Head bowed, you roll your eyes at his theatrics but hug his arms closer around your stomach, turning in place to wrinkle your nose at him, a hint of jest in your tone when you greet him. “Good morning, baby.” 
His eyes flick past your shoulder to your parents to be confident they’re looking (of course they are), then with another dark laugh drops his head to greet you with a feverish kiss. It’s too much for a simple good morning, utterly indecent the way his tongue slips past your lips without permission, and his hands drop to your hips to turn you further into his embrace, until one of your parents – you couldn’t care less which one – clears their throat and startles you apart. 
Your face is hot when Eddie smiles brightly, hitting you with a wink and a cheerful, “mornin’.” He mumbles a soft, “gonna go for a smoke, be right back,” into your ear, and then louder, calling over his shoulder as he walks toward the front door, cigarette dangling from his lips, “smells delicious already, ladies, I can’t wait!” 
You’re feeling quite smug at their stunned silence, until the door slams behind him and takes the breath from your lungs with it. You grip the mug so tightly your knuckles turn white, and the quiet from behind you turns deafening. 
It’s your mom that breaks it first, talking in a hushed tone that she must think you can’t hear, despite only being a few feet away. 
“He smokes?” 
“Are you surprised?” Your dad quips, “look at the kid. I’m surprised you can’t smell it on him.” 
“Oh, come on. Don’t be cruel. I’m just as unhappy about this as you are but there’s no reason to be rude.” 
That’s when you jump in, the scoff on your lips is almost as natural as your breath. “You guys know I’m right here, right? You are being rude, both of you.” 
“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry.” Her voice is more patronizing than remorseful. “But truly, what is it that you see in that boy? He seems nice enough I suppose, but he’s not what I would have hoped for you at all…and he’s so crude.” 
That’s exactly what I see in him, you think, the ability to get under your skin. 
“And what would you have hoped for me? Hm?” You press, arms crossed over your chest and hip cocked against the counter. “Some ivy league robot who only cares about your approval? Who I have nothing in common with? Why does it matter?” 
“Oh, well, I–” 
The phone on the wall wails, cutting her off, and a glance at the clock tells you that it must be your aunt calling to say she’s on her way. 
“Saved by the bell,” you mumble as she goes to answer the phone, then spit, “I’ll go change so I don’t embarrass you.”
Back in your room, you decide there’s no point in changing twice, so you pull out the outfit you’d packed for dinner. It’s rather mundane, just a corduroy skirt and an oversized sweater, something you’d normally wear to a family gathering, but the skirt is quite a bit shorter than you’re used to wearing, and instead of the modest tights you would usually pair with this kind of outfit, you opted for some plush over the knee knit socks. 
You take your time getting ready, feeling slightly guilty for leaving Eddie to his own devices downstairs, but he’s a big boy, he can handle himself. You need a few extra moments to cool down and collect yourself before more family shows up. 
There’s a soft rap at your door as you’re finishing up your makeup with a thin layer of lip gloss and you sigh. 
“I’ll be down to help in a minute!” 
Except it isn’t your mom on the other side as you’d expected. Eddie’s voice is gentle when he calls, “It’s me.” 
You let him in with a soft, apologetic smile. “Hi.” 
“Hey,” he smiles, looking appreciatively up and down your form. “I take back what I said earlier. This look is killer, you look great.” 
You brighten, flushing at his praise and taking in his own change of outfit. Nothing fancy by any means, just like you suggested when he asked about dinner attire. The same torn black jeans he wears often, a threadbare and bleach stained Metallica baseball tee, and his signature battle vest overtop. Hair clearly adp purposefully untamed, he’s decked out in his usual accessories. Thick, heavy rings on his fingers and a black bandana stuffed in his pocket, he’s even gone the extra mile and smudged a little eyeliner on his water line. You’d be lying if you said he didn’t pull it off. 
“Thanks,” you breathe, playing with the cuffs of your sweater absent-mindedly. “You look…disheveled.” 
He laughs at your choice of words, but takes it in stride, doing a quick spin and taking a dramatic bow as you laugh along with him. “Thank you, thank you, I’m only following your expert direction.” 
The neck of your sweater scoops low when you sit on your vanity stool to zip up your boots, slipping off of one shoulder delicately, and Eddie’s gaze burns as it follows the movement. He doesn’t try to hide the fact that he’s staring as he perches himself on the edge of your bed, his lopsided smile only growing when you giggle out a soft, “what?” 
“I have an idea,” he beckons you toward him with a jut of his chin, “come here.” Though you furrow your brow in confusion, you cross the room to stand in front of him. Instantly, his hands reach out to take yours and hold your arms out wide so that he can take another good look at you. You pretend not to notice that his gaze lingers at the bare skin of your thighs on display, then pauses again at your exposed shoulder. He tugs on your hands until you’re even closer, standing between his legs with a curious look in your eye. Hands dropping to your hips, he noses at your neck, breath tickling your delicate skin as he continues,  “you know what might make this outfit even better?” 
“Better?” You question, reaching to tangle your hands in his hair, knowing exactly what he had in mind. “Or just more scandalous?” 
Eddie’s lips ghost against your skin as he says, “darling, who said it can’t be both?” 
It's cruel, you think, as latches onto the soft skin just over your pulse, nipping lightly and then soothing the sting immediately with his tongue. Cruel that this is all an act, that your friend Eddie Munson wouldn’t be adorning you with love bites if it weren’t for this stupid plan to piss off your parents. Cruel that you can’t separate fact from fiction as he sucks a deep bruise into the flesh just above your collarbone and your grip on his hair tightens, an involuntary whimper caught in your throat. 
He pulls back to admire his work, pursing his plush lips with an appreciative hum. One hand leaves your hip to rest on your neck, thumb pressing into one of the fresh bruises there, pride shining on his face when the action makes you shudder. 
There’s no way he doesn’t notice how red you’ve gone but he doesn’t mention it, only smiles brightly and ushers you toward the door with an encouraging, “break a leg down there, kid.” 
Only then do you realize the commotion downstairs. The boisterous voice of your Aunt Ellen as she helps your mom in the kitchen, the sound of thundering footsteps as her kids play tag in the halls they definitely shouldn’t be running in. 
Eddie keeps a tight hold on your hand behind you as he follows you down the stairs, but you’re squeezing his right back, suddenly even more nervous now that some of your extended family has arrived. 
Your heart pounds through greetings, through quick hugs and happy hellos and nervous introductions. It hammers in your chest even harder when Eddie’s hand slips down to rest on your ass as he politely chit-chats with your uncle. This is the plan. This is what you wanted. So why are you so nervous? It doesn’t calm down until some time later, when your cousins convince Eddie to join them outside for a makeshift game of hockey in the iced over driveway. Your dad and uncle sit in the dining room chatting over scotch, while the rest of you return to cooking. 
“So Eddie seems nice,” Aunt Ellen says with a smile while you peel potatoes with her at the kitchen island. There’s no sarcasm in her tone, no ulterior motives. It seems as though she means what she says, and it's a comforting contrast to the harsh words and sideways glances you’ve been getting from your parents. “You two kids meet at school?” 
Outside the window, the hockey game has dissolved into a snowball fight, your younger cousins ganging up on a solo Eddie. You realize you’re staring, zoned out as he easily picks up the youngest to use him as a human shield, unable to stop yourself from smiling as your cousin giggles and brings Eddie down with a smashed snowball right to the face. You can practically hear his dramatics through the window as he mimes a wounded heart and dramatic battlefield death. 
“Kinda,” you hum, shaking yourself from your daydream and smiling back at her softly. “He went to highschool with my roommate, Robin. Their hometown is a lot closer to school than here, so I got to know a lot of her friends pretty early on.” 
You try not to elaborate too much, but your blush betrays you.
“You had it bad, huh?” She teases. 
“I…might have developed a big dumb crush pretty quickly.” Not entirely a lie.
“Well it must have worked out well for you, huh? Seeing as he’s here and all.” 
“Yeah,” you chuckle, “Mom and Dad aren’t too thrilled about it.” 
She shrugs, wrinkling her nose at you and leaning in to whisper, “to be honest, this could be good for them. They need to loosen up a little, maybe this’ll push ‘em in the right direction.” 
You snort, “you’re telling me.” 
“You could make it a little easier on them though,” she chuckles, gesturing to her own neck not-so-subtly, “maybe show them his good side before you try to intentionally rile them up.” 
Rolling your eyes, you throw a potato peel at her and shake your head. You had the feeling going into this that if anyone was going to find you out, it would be your aunt. Though much to your relief, she seems to still believe you’re actually together, so maybe you can keep the act going through the rest of the weekend. 
She gets pulled away when her cell phone rings, most likely your Grandma calling to ask your parents address despite the fact that they’ve been hosting thanksgiving here since you were born, and in the blink of an eye her seat is taken by your mom. Her arms are folded on the table in front of her, ignoring the pile of potatoes that still need to be done and eyeballing your own paring knife pointedly until you slow to a hesitant, confused stop. 
“Honestly, young woman, I don’t know what’s gotten into you.” She scolds, voice hushed but harsh as ever. 
With a roll of your eyes, you answer, “if I didn’t think you’d kill me I would say you know exactly what’s gotten into me.” 
“Enough!” She looks over her shoulder to ensure that her outburst wasn’t heard and that your aunt is still occupied. God forbid anyone realize she’s experiencing any emotion that’s less than pleasant. “I don’t care how much you care for that boy or how you act at school but right now you are back under our roof and you’ll carry yourself with grace.” 
“But-” 
“No buts.” She hushes to a whisper as your aunt approaches again, “now go put on some makeup or a turtleneck before Grandma gets here or your father notices, because I assure you he would not be nearly as kind as I.” 
“Yeah,” your chair makes an awful screeching sound as it scrapes against the floor as you stand. “Because you’ve been so peachy keen.” 
Halfway through Thanksgiving dinner, things are going swimmingly. Eddie seems to get on great with the rest of your family, which somehow only seems to upset your parents even more. He talks music with your uncle when he comments on his tee shirt, and compliments you and your mom on the cooking no less than five times, thanking her profusely for the meal, and chats excitedly with your cousins about DnD when they ask about the tattoo of a D20 on his forearm. They’re all eating up his attention, but your parents only sit in silence, observing. 
It isn’t until your grandma asks him about school that you finally get a reaction out of them. She had unknowingly uncovered the ace up your sleeve without either you or Eddie having to bring it up and you’re downright thrilled to see where this goes. 
You’ll have to thank her later. 
“Oh, uh, no ma’am.” Eddie chuckles. Confidence puffs his chest as he grins knowingly, stealing a peek at your mirrored expression from the corner of his eye. “Wouldn’t you believe it, I’m shit at school?” He pauses for everyone to balk at his bold wording. “Who would’a known, right? I’m the picture of a 4.0. Anyway, to answer your question, I just graduated in June, so I’m taking some time to focus on my band.”
His age had already come up in conversation, so it was only right for your uncle to assume, “oh, well, well school isn’t for everyone. What’s important is that you made it through. What was your degree in?” 
You clear your throat uncomfortably, ducking your head to hide the smile threatening to break out. 
“High school, actually,” Eddie snickers, “took me three senior years, but I did it!” 
Silence takes over the room once again, even shocking your extended family. You could hear a pin drop, and you do hear your dad choke on his turkey. 
Acting oblivious to their shock, you prompt, “tell them about your band, baby.” Giddy smile plastered on your face, you reach out for his hand and address your family again, “they just booked a consistent gig! How exciting is that?” 
“I’d hardly call Tuesday nights at the Hideout exciting, but you gotta start somewhere, right? Plus,” he drops your hand in lieu of resting his on your thigh, his grip warm and familiar. Turning another wily smirk on you he adds, “we’ve got at least one fan who won’t miss a Corroded Coffin show. That’s what counts, right?” 
Leaning across the table to pester you more quietly, your mother hisses, “I thought you had study group on Tuesdays.” 
“I do!” You defend, “we just…meet at the Hideout.” 
In reality you’ve only been to one of Eddie’s shows, the first one at the Hideout that they played as a tryout, and you had a damn good time. But you do have a study group that meets on Tuesdays, regrettably not at the Hideout but in the common area of your dorm building and even more unfortunately, right when Corroded Coffin is about to go on.
 You can’t stop yourself from smiling at their shock. Every little thing he or you say to surprise them makes it a little more amusing. 
Last night their anger felt overbearing, casting a shadow over you, made you feel small. But the more you catch them off guard, the less they say, and the more you want to laugh at the surprise and disgust in their eyes.
Dessert brings pumpkin pie, coffee cake, another round of drinks, and more inquiry from your aunt. She even managed to slip Eddie one of her husband’s beers, much to the disapproving glare of your father.
“Eddie,” she hums, grinning at him over the rim of her wine glass. “Were your ears ringing earlier? We were gossiping about you.” 
“Oh yeah?” He asks, a sly smirk and a raised brow pointed your way.  He leans back in his chair, right hand reaching out to rest once more on your thigh under the table. He tilts his head even further toward you, “all bad things, I hope?” 
“Aunt Ellen was asking how we met,” you smile sweetly, licking away the remnants of cool whip on your dessert fork. 
His eyes darken as they follow the motion and his hand creeps higher, pinky finger stroking at the hem of your skirt absent-mindedly as he speaks. You fight to keep your breath from getting caught in your throat at the cold bite of his rings against your flushed skin. “Oh I see,” he hums, then, his attention snapping back across the table, cutting through the tension you both just created, “did she tell you how she tried to hairspray me to death?” 
“She didn’t,” your grandma exclaims, “please do tell!”
“So I’m planning on meeting my good friend Robin for a nice meal, right? Sounds like a nice evening! Except…”
You try to stay engaged in the conversation, to tell your side of the story, you really do– but the weight of his hand high up on your thigh is distracting. It’s hard to focus on much else, especially when he kneads gently in time with his elaborate storytelling, his thumb caressing the rolled hem of your thigh-high socks and stroking the skin just above it. 
Why, you can’t help but think. You’re the only ones seated on this side of the table, and sheltered from view by the tablecloth. There should be no reason for him to be touching you like this when there’s nobody to see it happening. You wonder if he knows there’s no point, but then his hand creeps even higher and his fingertips slip under the edge of your skirt and into the crease where your thighs press together. This time you can’t stop the stutter in your breath and he notices, smiling at you wickedly, tongue darting out to wet his lips. He knows it’s affecting you, and even worse he’s trying to get a reaction out of you. 
But he just keeps on talking, stealing the show.  
The story of how you met melts easily into the previously fabricated story of your first date, and so on. The stories just keep flowing. That’s the thing about Eddie, he could be reading you the instruction manual for a toaster, but the way that he tells stories is captivating. The way he speaks of your first date, and then of your first anniversary (something you hadn’t discussed on the drive, but damn it if he wasn’t quick on the draw with it) has your family on the edge of their seats. Your aunt listens with glee, but your parents are horrified at the thought of him taking you to a dive bar for dinner or staying overnight in your dorm. Whether they like it or not, he knows how to command a room. 
When things start winding down, after goodbyes are said to your Grandma, you’re rescued from having to do the dishes when your cousins talk you into a game of Monopoly. Eddie picks your favorite piece, but relents quickly when you send him a pout and opts for the thimble instead. 
“So what are you, a $100 on Free Parking family, all taxes on Free Parking family, or a boring family?” Eddie asks, digging out the loose bills in disarray at the bottom of the box.
“Better,” you hum, “you boys know where the stash is, d’you mind?” 
Your cousins laugh, the eldest pulling a bag of halloween candy out from under the coffee table you sit around. “Already on it, cuz.” 
Watching as he dumps a few pieces into the middle of the board, you grin. “Perfect.” 
After a rousing game (where Eddie absolutely made fun of your candy pot right up until he landed on Free Parking and won it), your extended family starts to pack up to make the hour’s drive home. You say your goodbyes, Aunt Ellen whispering a reminder to go easy on your parents into your ear when she hugs you tightly. Eddie high fives your cousins as they pass, and shoots them a devil horn gesture as they make their way to the car. You swear you hear your dad mumble under his breath about him corrupting them, but bite your tongue. 
You barely made it back to the den to start cleaning up the board game when the knock comes at the door – their car won’t start. It’s cold and it’s dark and without hesitation your mom offers them shelter for the night. 
“The boys will have to sleep on the pull out in the den,” she muses quietly, thinking out loud. “It’s not much but they’ll be comfy there. Ellen, you guys can take the guest room.” You crack a smile as she keeps talking, mentions that your dad and uncle can take a look at the car when they’ve had a good night’s sleep and the sun is up, and Eddie catches your eye with a mirroring grin. 
“I’d be happy to look,” he offers, drawing both your parents’ attention. They’d forgotten about him in their plan. “I’m no professional, but my uncle and I have lifted parts from enough junkers to know my way around an engine.” 
Your mom looks between you and the boy next to you, brow drawn together in concern. “Oh, I’m not sure that’s the best–” 
Cutting her off, you rest your hand on Eddie’s elbow and smile saccharine, “that’s so kind of you, Eds, thank you.” 
He knocks your hand from his arm in favor of wrapping it around your shoulders, curling your body into his side and kissing your temple with a loud smack! His grin is downright smug when he says, “looks like I’ll be bunking with you after all, huh, Princess?” 
“Lucky me,” you mumble, turning away quickly to hide the rapidly forming flush in your cheeks. “Um, hey, can you help my dad with the pullout? It sticks. I’ll go change the sheets in the guest room.” 
“You got it, baby,” he smiles good-naturedly. “Where can I help, Dad?” 
As you walk away, you can hear the exasperation in your father’s voice as he informs the boy that it would be in his best interest to call him Mr. or Sir, and you can’t help but giggle at the stuttering response Eddie gives. 
You’ve tossed Eddie’s bags into your own room and stripped the sheets from the guest bed by the time your mom meets you in the guest room with fresh sheets. You quietly make the bed together until she speaks up. 
“I’m sure you find yourself so lucky to have gotten what you want,” she muses, tucking in the top sheet on her side of the bed a little more harshly than necessary. “But under no circumstances does this mean you can take advantage of my kindness. I was not about to let our family go without a place to stay for the night so you may have found yourself sharing a room but I expect no funny business.” So casual in her cruelty, she emphasizes where she needs to but otherwise her voice is calm. 
“Right,” you snort, “because the mood is so perfect with my parents down the hall and aunt and uncle in the next room.” 
“I’m only saying, that boy is changing you. You’re acting so differently since you brought him ‘round and I-” 
You cut her off, throwing the pillow you just put a new sham on back onto the bed violently. “I care about that boy,” throwing air quotes when you repeat her words, “and if I’ve changed, it’s only because he showed me what it’s like to be cared for in return!” The words flow from you freely, without much thought. You’re reacting with what you know will hurt right back, but you’re also speaking from the heart. Even just being friends with not only Eddie, but Robin and Steve as well, has built your confidence and taught you plenty about love and support, even if it was just platonic. 
Her voice drips with condescension when she replies, “Honey. Do you truly think a boy like that has good intentions with a girl like you? He drinks, he smokes, he’s skipping college and doesn’t have a job because he’s in a rock band for Pete’s sake. I’m just worried about you. Guys like that only want one thing.” 
With your back to the door you don’t notice Eddie approaching, and he hovers just outside the door and out of your mom’s view. He doesn’t want to eavesdrop, but he could hear your shouting match from downstairs, and he wanted to be close by if you needed a comforting word or pep talk.  
“What’s that, Mom?” You argue, arms crossed tightly over your chest. “Sex? Who’s to say we haven’t gone there already? And what could you do to stop us from fucking all night tonight? We’re both adults. We could go at it for hours, under your roof, right down the hall from you and technically all you can do about it is kick us out. Oh well!! We’ve got a car and a couple hundred bucks between the two of us, we could swing a motel for the night. The point is, it could happen anywhere, so wouldn’t you rather know that I’m safe at home and not sharing a wall with drug addicts and prostitutes down at the Motel 6?”
She’s silent for a long moment, both of you unmoving and staring angrily at each other. 
“...You’re not actually going to have–”
“OF COURSE I’M NOT, Mother,” you groan, “and do you think I would tell you if I was!? God, I knew bringing him here was a mistake. Don’t worry, we’ll be out of your hair first thing in the morning. I’m not going to bother staying the rest of the weekend in a house that makes me and my boyfriend feel unwelcome.” 
Suddenly very reminiscent of your high school days, you stomp away with an exasperated groan, brushing past Eddie in a fury and you couldn’t even begin to care in the moment to ask how much he’d overheard. You were hot in more than one sense of the word, livid at your mother’s attack, blood boiling at the fact that even she – who has always been more lenient and quick to defend against your father – could think so lowly of Eddie without even giving him a chance. You know that’s the point. You know you brought him here specifically to get a rise out of them, but God, this was so much worse than the stunned silence and speechless stuttering you were expecting. 
With every step closer to your room, the need to get out of this damn outfit gets stronger. Despite your aggravation, every brush of your skirt against your thighs brings your mind back to dinner and Eddie’s curious touch, the gentle squeeze as his fingertips brushed at the crease of your crossed legs, the casual nonchalance as he kept talking even though he knew exactly what he was doing. 
It's annoying, really, how easily he infiltrates your thoughts and without even trying distracts you from your rage. Only, now he’s all you can think of as you slam the bedroom door and rifle through your suitcase. By the time you start the shower, you’ve moved past wondering why he was touching you like that when it didn’t benefit the plan, and when you strip down and step under the steaming spray you’re more than curious how far he’s willing to take this. You have to admit after shouting about how much sex you were going to have with him tonight, you’re starting to wonder how much of a possibility it could be.
Would he actually touch you? Let you touch him? He was eager to paint your skin with possessive marks earlier. Was he just that committed to the bit, or did he really just want to? 
Would it be so bad if he did? 
As much as you want to draw this shower out, slow, careful caresses of your skin as you touch yourself the way you imagine a certain guitarist might, you decide it’s not the best idea with a houseful of family. Soon enough you’re toweling off and feeling less angry than before, though no less frustrated. 
When you make it back to your room, there’s an open copy of Advanced Dungeons and Dragons and a weathered journal laid out on your bed, suggesting that Eddie had been hiding out there, however he’s nowhere to be found. You manage to get your hair most of the way dried by the time he comes back in, the faint scent of smoke and fresh snow billowing behind in his wake. The stick of a lollipop he won in your game of Monopoly earlier juts out from between his lips. 
Smiling softly in greeting, you expect him to beeline back to his notes, but to your surprise he turns your way and leans one hand on your vanity. The other comes to rest under your chin, urging you to look up at him. He smiles back, bigger, encouraging. His lips are tinted pink from the candy and he even nods a little when your own smile grows, as if he could tell that your first wasn’t that genuine. 
“Y’okay?” He murmurs, thumb stroking absently at the sharp of your jawline. “It’s been fun messing with them, but that screaming match must’ve been a lot.” 
“Yeah,” you mumble, “I’ll get over it, but are you okay? You were the one she was insulting.” 
He waves off your comment casually, a wrinkle in his nose and the hint of a laugh in his voice. “I’ve been called worse, and in her defense, we are trying to make me look bad.”
“I guess, but I still didn’t like hearing her speak about you like that,” you chuckle and stand, scooting the stool back in order to wrap him in a hug. After a brief pause, you mumble into his neck, “... and thank you. For checking in.” 
Eddie’s hands squeeze where he holds your hips fondly, and he pulls away from your embrace just enough to get a good look at your face. His eyes shine beneath his furrowed brow, impossibly deep brown in the low light of your room, they search your face for any hint of distress, and when he’s confident you’re telling the truth, only then does his gaze land on your lips. You swallow thickly, blink slowly, try to convince yourself you’re making this up. He pulls the lollipop from his mouth, slurping obscenely as he does.  There’s nobody around! He has nothing to prove! So then why is he leaning in? Why do you let him, and lean up onto your toes to close the gap? 
Quiet takes over the room as Eddie’s eyes fall shut, followed quickly by your own. You gasp gently, but lean into his kiss eagerly, the hand around his shoulder reaching up to tangle in the mess of curls at the base of his neck. His lips meld with yours, working you over in a deep and tender kiss that makes your stomach flip. It’s soft. Familiar in a way you wouldn’t expect. 
It might be your favorite one yet. 
He tastes distinctly of cherry and leftover tobacco, lips sticky with sugar and oh, so delicious. 
When he breaks the kiss he doesn’t go far, lips traveling to press sweetly at your temple for a fleeting moment. 
“What was that for?” You ask, breathless. “There’s nobody else around?” 
Eddie hums, “maybe I just felt like it.” Taking in your choice of pajamas, he grins even wider, “kinda like you just felt like wearing my Sabbath shirt again, I’m sure. Did you mean what you said back there?” 
Stalling, you pluck the candy from between his fingers and take a moment to savor it. Sure, it’s a little bit of a tease, the way your tongue darts out to lick it salaciously before taking the whole thing in your mouth with a soft hum, but it’s payback for both times he’d gotten you worked up earlier today. By the look on his face, payback is a bitch. 
“How much did you overhear?” 
“Oh, you know…” his hand trails up the length of your forearm, enveloping your own, only to take the sucker back from you and toss it into the bin, forgotten already. “Just the part about us going at it for hours.” Hands on either side of your face, he crouches until he’s fully in your space, lips just a hair away from your own. “How it was going to happen no matter what.” You feel his smirk more than you actually see it, and your breath gets caught in your throat. His hair curtains around you, tickling at your neck and shoulders.This can’t actually be happening – right? His thumb drags lightly at your bottom lip, “that we were gonna fuck all night?” 
“I– I didn’t know you were there.” You stutter out, afraid to admit anything more than that. 
“...Tell me to stop and I’ll stop.” 
You don’t. Instead, you find yourself falling forward, colliding once more in a clumsy kiss. You stand slowly so that he doesn’t have to crouch, never once letting your lips leave his. It’s an intoxicating contrast to the last kiss, all bruising pressure and teeth and tongue and desperation. He licks into your mouth without asking permission, though you would have given it freely anyway, and his hands creep downward on your body, caressing your waist and falling to rest on the swell of your hips, squeezing gently. When you surge up onto your tiptoes to kiss him deeper, he notices the wobble in your legs and shifts, hooking his hands on the backs of your thighs and lifting you to rest on the edge of your vanity. You gasp in surprise at his boldness, at the strength you didn’t know he possessed, and break the kiss in the process. 
“You know, I was hoping you weren’t all talk,” he beams with pride, taking in the sight of your bite swollen lips and chest heaving with ragged breath. Placing a hand on either side of your hips, his head drops to mouth hungrily at your neck, giving the same attention to the opposite side he had earlier, pulling at the neck of your stolen tee-shirt to suck another bruise into your collarbone. In between passes of his tongue and nips at your sensitive skin, he keeps talking. Eddie Munson does not know when to shut up, not even now. “Been wanting to get my hands on you since we met,” he mumbles into the hollow of your throat, you can feel another smile pressed to the skin there, “somethin’ about being threatened by a sweet little thing like you…” working his way back up to find your lips, he basks in the small noises coming from the back of your throat. “...really does it for a guy.” 
“Oh yeah?” You tease, hooking a finger in the collar of his shirt and tugging, but before you can continue the thought, the vanity beneath you gives an awful creaking sound under your combined weight. Giggling, near mortified, you bite your lip and shift your eyes toward the bed, “you wanna…?” 
“Thought you’d never ask,” he jokes in return, helping you down from your perch and crossing the room. He shuffles up toward the headboard, pulling an old teddy bear from under him when he leans up against it and raises his brow at you. 
Taking the stuffie from his hands to throw it across the room with a soft glare, you settle into his lap comfortably, one knee on either side of his hips. His hands land on your own hips and pull you closer to him roughly with a soft, amused huff. He kisses you like it's his last chance, hands firm on your hips holding you in place where you can feel his cock, half hard with interest pressing against you. 
You kiss him for what seems like hours. For all you’re concerned it could have been. Eddie consumes you, the scent of smoke and leather engulfing you and invading your senses. It’s a scent so perfectly Eddie, with a little sweetness and a little bit of something dark, just like how he kisses. Sweet pecks and soft caresses of his lips against your jawline immediately followed by lewd, wet passes of his tongue and sharp, stinging bites. He kisses hard and messy, unabashed, fingers squeezing at the meat of your ass and pulling your hips harder into his.
This time when he kisses down your neck, he doesn’t stop at your neckline. He pulls at the shirt collar, carelessly stretching it past the point of no return in favor of uncovering more and more of your unexplored skin. Cold fingers prod at the skin of your lower back, making you squeal and grind harder against him, heat pooling in your center. 
Your position is making you hyper aware of just how wet you are, your panties sticking to your lower lips with it as you rut against his clothed length. Your hand stays firm on the back of his neck, nervous and unsure how far to take this, but Eddie clearly knows what he wants, his own hands exploring. Not an inch of your body goes unnoticed as he caresses you, light fleeting touches here and there followed by rough, possessive hands, kneading at your curves hungrily. He’s taking his time learning what makes you tick. Thumbs brush featherlight over pebbled nipples through the worn material of your shirt, drawing another breathy moan from your lips. Though he grins in satisfaction, looking up at you with a mix of admiration and provocation. 
“Careful,” he murmurs, gaze falling on your chest as he seeks out the hardened buds again and pinching, cocky smile only growing at the responding whine you let out. “Don’t want anyone to hear you, pretty thing. Or did you forget where we were?” 
Not one to go without a fight, you grip his jaw and turn his face back up toward yours, “shut up and put your mouth to good use, baby.” 
He smirks at the pet name, capturing your lips once more and turning you both until you’re laying back against the mattress. Eddie hovers over you, staring, eyes raking over you briefly before he makes his way down your body, stopping at the waist of your sleep pants with a happy hum. He traces the elastic teasingly before hooking in and pulling them down, tossing them out of the way carelessly. You press your thighs together when he does, and he tuts disapprovingly, thumb caressing the crease between your thigh and hip. 
“Aw, sweetheart, you’re not gettin’ shy on me now, are you?” He teases, gently coaxing your legs back open, chilled air hitting the damp cotton and making you shudder. Lowering himself so that he’s eye level with your clothed cunt, he smirks, “that’s what I thought.” 
You expect him to rid you of that layer as well, but he doesn’t, not yet. Instead, he noses at the growing wet spot, inhaling deeply and giving a dramatic, gleeful sigh. He’s not so cruel to keep teasing you though, quickly mouthing at your pussy through the thin material of your panties. The added friction is unbearable, pleasure settling low in your belly as he licks broadly at the wet spot with a low groan, pointed tongue finding your clit surprisingly quickly. Pulling back briefly, he admires the way that the material clings to you, now wet with your slick and his saliva, the soaked cotton hides nothing. He murmurs something about “isn’t this a pretty picture?” and reaches out to touch you, fingers stroking over your clothed cunt in a rough drag, but the way your blood is rushing in your ears you barely hear him. 
When he finally peels the ruined panties off of you, you prop yourself up on your elbows to get a good look at him between your legs. His hair’s a mess, disheveled by your hands running through it, bangs pushed back from his forehead from his efforts. His lips are kiss swollen and red from the cherry candy, pulled back tight over an eager grin. He licks his lips, eyes glittering as he stares down at you, utterly enraptured. He looks at you as though you were his last meal, like you were the most delectable treat, and it makes your stomach flip.
He dives back in, tongue gliding between your lips easily and circling your clit once, teasingly, before retreating back down to your entrance. With a huff and a repressed squeal, you drop back onto the bed, hand flying to tangle in his hair as he tongues at your hole eagerly. Nose bumping your clit with his efforts, he laps at your juices until you’re whining for it, a weak little “please,” falling from your lips. Any other day he would tease you. A quipped please what, what do you need? But he senses your desperation and relents. 
“So wet, sweet thing,” he chides, reaching out to drag two fingers through your dripping folds and pushing them into you without warning, forcing the air from your lungs. You bite your lip in an effort to keep quiet, only letting out the softest whimper when his thumb joins in, rubbing at your clit lazily. “Tell me, are you always this eager?” 
“When some asshole’s been teasing me since dinner, yeah,” you quip, throwing an arm over your eyes to hide your embarrassment. 
“Oh, I’m an asshole?” Eddie asks, scissoring his fingers and leaning down to lap at your nub, suckling lightly until your thighs tremble and your pussy clenches down on his fingers. “Do you even know what you were doing to me at dinner?” His pace quickens, fingers drawing obscene, wet sounds from your cunt as he pumps them faster. Resting his head on your thigh to watch as his fingers disappear in and out of your dripping entrance, he continues, “The way you were lickin’ that fork clean after dessert should be illegal. Had me wonderin’ what else you could do with that tongue, I just had to level the playing field.” 
He strokes at that spot deep inside you right as his lips wrap around your clit once more and you swallow a groan. 
“Fuck, Eddie,” you whimper, hips moving on their own accord, canting down to meet his eager ministrations. “Right there.”
He almost sounds pitiful as he coos, “I know, baby, I know.” 
He continues to work at your g-spot, languid, repetitive strokes that bring you closer and closer to the edge each time. Pressure builds in your pelvis, an unmistakable ache in your limbs as you tense up. He can tell you’re close, the fluttering of your walls around him and thighs caging his head in firmly. If he minds, he doesn’t let on, only doubling his efforts and adding a third finger as he thrusts back in. You’re getting close, but words are hard to find when he’s smiling so pretty at you and those long, thick fingers stroking deep within you with a come-hither motion. 
“Eddie, I’m– fuck, you gotta–” 
“That's it, Princess,” he encourages, leaning back on his heels to get a good look at you. Your whole body flushed, his tee shirt rucked up on your chest, your fingers curled in the bedspread beneath you. With his fingers still buried inside you, he reaches out with the other hand to abuse your clit, quick, messy back and forth motions that are absolutely maddening, just on the edge of too much. “C’mon, sweet thing, come for me.” 
There’s nothing you can do to stop your body from obliging, bearing down as your orgasm rips through you, your release coming from you in waves, splashing over his hands and the bedsheets between you. Your fingers go numb as you white-knuckle the bedspread, toes curling and mouth hanging open in a silent scream as he works you through your orgasm. 
Though he gives your oversensitive clit a much needed break, to your dismay, he doesn’t let up on fucking his fingers into you, gazing down at the mess you made in awe, a lopsided grin on his face. “You didn’t tell me you're a super soaker, sweetheart. What a pleasant surprise.” 
“I–” you try to interject but gasp at his unrelenting fingers. “I’m not usually.” 
“Oh?” 
You’re too embarrassed to admit it again, so you only shake your head, flushing even deeper under his scrutinizing stare. It’s all too much, you’re oversensitive and spent already but god that doesn’t mean you don’t want more. 
“Please,” you start, reaching for his wrist to still his motions. You aren’t above pouting when you say, “let me return the favor.” 
“Uh-uh, sweetheart,” his grin is downright evil, “not yet…I wanna see you do that again.” 
You weren’t sure that was possible. Hell, until a few moments ago you didn’t even know you could squirt at all, let alone twice in a row. But he’s determined, and he’s already kept you teetering on the edge since your first orgasm, so it doesn’t take much. He speeds up again, hand curling to cup your cunt with his efforts, and the slick slip-slide of your previous release gives him the perfect traction to continue the onslaught of attention to your overstimulated clit. Your hips can't decide whether they want to twitch away from the attention or grind down into it, ultimately going with the latter, much to Eddie’s satisfaction.
Ducking his head, he sinks his teeth into the swell of your inner thigh, relishing in the way the pain makes you clench around him yet again. 
“You got another one in you,” he encourages, “I know it.”  
And he’s right.
The coil in your belly has been threatening to snap as soon as the last orgasm dissipated, his constant attention on your g-spot enough to send you over the edge again, but it’s not until his lips latch onto your clit one more time, the delicious drag of stubble against your inner thighs a whole new sensation, that you let loose. Gripping onto fistfuls of his curls again, you take note of the wild growl the action draws from him as you spill onto his tongue, your release puddling under you and soaking into the sheets. 
“Shit, Eddie, stop, I–” You pull at his hair lightly to get his attention, “s’too sensitive.” 
Despite your complaint, he grins happily and crawls back up your body, taking the hem of your shirt with him and pulling your last bit of clothing off of your body before capturing your lips in a deep, languid kiss. The distinct taste of Eddie, of tobacco and sugar and your own release is intoxicating, and you sloppily make out with him until you can no longer taste yourself on his tongue. You can’t help but giggle as you pull away. 
“You still with me?” He asks gently, damp fingers brushing through your hair, though you have no energy to care about the mess. 
“Yeah,” you mumble, “just needed a second.” Reaching down to palm at the achingly hard bulge in his pants, savoring the moan he swallows, you tease, “I feel a little underdressed, here.” 
“By all means,” he hums, turning to fall on his back beside you, a cocky smile dancing on his features, “be my guest.” 
You follow suit, sitting up to straddle his lap again, lifting the hem of his shirt up and over his head. Peppering his skin with the same attention he showed you, you take your time nipping and sucking and adoring his newly exposed skin, appreciating your favorite mark (an angry looking, deep purple bruise forming just above his demon head tattoo) with a bitten lip and smug smile. He looks ruined and you haven’t even touched him yet, not really, and you take pride in the way his head lolls against the headboard, eyes heavy-lidded and crinkled from his smile,  pupils blown as he watches your every move. As you rake your nails down his chest (an act that pulls yet another deep growl from within his chest), you cant your hips down against his. The drag of denim against your bare pussy is almost too much, on the brink of both pleasure and pain in your overstimulation, and the way that it makes you shudder has his cock twitching with interest. 
Scooting down his legs, you lay between them lazily, twirling your finger around the button of his pants and savoring the impatient noises he’s clearly trying to hold back. You decide he’s been too kind to you already to deserve anymore teasing, so you make quick work of unzipping his jeans and freeing his aching member. He helps you shuffle them, along with his underwear, down his legs and as soon as you get a good look, your mouth starts to water. Flushed at the tip and weeping, it’s the most enticing thing you’ve ever seen. 
Leaning in to catch the bead of precum on your tongue, you moan at the earthy taste and let your eyes fall shut. Eddie swears above you and that only eggs you on, reaching out to take his length in one hand, you give it a long, broad lick from base to tip and around the head before taking it into your mouth, reminiscent of the way you’d enjoyed his lollipop earlier. (If you’re being honest, you much prefer this to candy). 
“Shit, sweetheart,” he groans, leaning up on one elbow to get a good look at you and burying his free hand in your hair. “Just like that–look so perfect like this.” 
He babbles as you suck him off, an incoherent string of desperate phrases that all circle back to one common theme – how good you look with his dick in your mouth. His praise goes straight to your throbbing core, more slick dribbling from you with every word. You find yourself clenching down on nothing, feeling suddenly empty without Eddie’s thick fingers there.
You pull off of him with a satisfying pop, beaming with pride as your hand works him over in your absence. 
“Do you ever shut up?” You tease, cupping his balls lightly with your free hand before ducking to take one into your mouth. 
He chokes out his response, “not often,” sighing as you take him back into your mouth, your tongue running over the thick vein that runs up the underside of his shaft. “But you’re gettin’ close… Get up here.” 
Pulling you off of him by the hair, he urges you back up the length of the bed. Propped up against your mess of pillows at your headboard, he pulls you back to hover over his lap and drags the head of his cock through your wet folds teasingly. Capturing your lips again, he licks hot into your mouth, positioning your hips square over his waiting member, but leaving it up to you to seal the deal. 
You sink down onto him slowly, inch by thick, delicious inch, savoring the stretch and the slight burn that comes with it. Even with proper preparation, he’s big, and fills you to the brim when you finally settle into his lap, his cock fully sheathed inside you. 
Drawing a shaky breath, you wrap your arms around his neck and press your forehead to his, all sweaty bangs and shared breaths. He gives you a moment, pressing a gentle kiss high on your cheekbone and lingering there until you thread your fingers into his hair again and give an experimental roll of your hips. Both of you share a groan, breathing each other in as you slowly start to move. 
It's like a dance; you push, he pulls, moving together like you’ve rehearsed this a million times. You feel impossibly full as you bounce on his cock, lewd, wet sounds coming from where you’re joined, and the pressure builds in your stomach once again. 
Eddie’s hands fly to your hips, guiding your movements and holding you in place to fuck up into you without restriction. Unable to hold back, an involuntary moan tumbles from your lips and you fall forward, biting into the crook of his neck to stop yourself from making any more noise. He hisses at the sting and his hips stutter, but if he’s more affected than that he doesn’t show it. His hips continue to piston up into you, his cock forcing tiny little hiccuping noises from your throat as you clamp your eyes shut. 
“Yeah baby,” he encourages, pulling your hips down for a particularly harsh drag, the wiry hair at the base of his cock tickling at your clit from the force of it. “Y’can’t stay quiet, can you? Even now?” Reaching between you, he circles your still sensitive nub with his middle finger, kissing you to swallow the sounds you make as he spreads two fingers over your puffy lips, prodding at the taut, stretched hole where he thrusts up into you.  “Christ, if you sound this fuckin’ pretty when you’re trying to keep quiet I can’t wait to hear you when you aren’t holding back.” He speaks low in your ear, his voice impossibly deep and his words go straight to your core, zapping like static over your skin. “You’d like that, huh?” He prompts, tugging at your earlobe with his teeth, “wanna make you scream my name.” 
You lift your head to kiss him, if only to shut him up, and whimper into his mouth, eyes screwed shut, but give him what he wants with a soft whine of “Eddie,” against his full lips. 
“I guess whining will do for now. Look at you, messy thing,” he’s unrelenting on your clit now, swift, circular motions made jagged by his stuttering thrusts. He’s just as close as you are, if his jerking motions and labored breathing tell you anything. “You gonna come on my cock? C’mon sweet thing, I wanna feel you.” 
“I don’t– I can’t, ‘s too much,” you babble, lost in the way his cock drags over your inner walls and the insistent swiping of his fingers at your clit. It’s so good but it’s all too much, and you’re certain if you have another orgasm, it’ll be the end of you. 
The hand that isn’t buried in your cunt comes up to hold your chin, forcing you to look at him as he says, “sure you can, baby, c’mon,” then after a surprisingly tender kiss pressed into your lips, he demands through lidded eyes, “come for me, princess.” 
Even if you didn’t want to, your body obeys, the pleasure licking up from your core and spreading through your limbs like fire. Your skin burns, your cunt spasming with the force of it, and when you force your eyes shut, forehead pressed against Eddie’s in exhaustion, you swear a tear leaks out.��
He groans, the fluttering of your walls triggering his own release, pulling you into a hard, toothy kiss to dampen the sound he makes. He pulls out just in time, splattering your stomach with his seed and already you’re mourning the loss, feeling impossibly empty but sated nonetheless. 
Your mouths hang open against one another, sharing damp, hot breaths for a few moments as you come down from your high. 
“Fuck,” you sigh, rolling off of his lap to lay beside him, a delighted little chuckle falling from your lips. 
“My sentiments exactly,” he muses, turning on his side to brush the mess of your hair behind your ear. With a kiss to your temple and a soft, “wait here,” he rolls away, pulling on the first pair of pants he can find (which just so happens to be your pink snowflake pajama pants) and looks both ways before stepping out of your room and toward the bathroom. 
As you wait for him to return, you can’t help but return to your thoughts from earlier. 
Would he touch you? 
Yes. 
Would you really mind if he wanted to?
Fuck no. 
What does this mean for your friendship? 
Fuck off, don’t worry about that right now. Enjoy the moment. 
Soon he’s back with a warm washcloth that he uses to gently clean you up, taking care around your sore, red center, and then mops up his spend with a surprisingly delicate touch. In the other hand he has another fresh set of sheets, which he holds up with a snarky smile. 
“When your legs work again we can change these out,” he teases, “seeing as you ruined the ones on there now.”
Running a hand down your face, you blush. Even after everything, you blush at his remarks. “Shut up.” Giggling, you hop down from the bed and pull on his discarded boxers and the now stretched out Black Sabbath shirt before helping him change the sheets. 
In the end, you decide that it’s not worth it to finish out the weekend at home and set an alarm to get up before any of your family. It’s far too early for either of your liking, but it’s a necessary evil. 
When the car is loaded up and you drop into the passenger seat, it feels natural when Eddie’s large hand lands on your thigh. The sun is just starting to rise in the rear view mirror, and you’re eager to get a move on, but not before properly thanking him. 
Leaning over the center console, you press a kiss to his cheek, then again to his lips when he turns to meet your affection. You sigh, a dumb smile plastered on your face as you breathe your first full breath all weekend. “Thank you, Eds.” 
“Hey,” he chuckles, squeezing your thigh happily, “I’ll help you piss off your parents any day.” One more longing kiss, his lips sliding against yours without urgency, without anything to prove, just an exchange of affection between two maybe-more-than-friends who don’t have any roles to play anymore. He bites your lip as he pulls away, winking, and throwing the car into drive. As he drives away he laughs again, fixing you with an adoring stare. “My little showstopper.”
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byullielle · 10 months
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Shy Shy Shy // Bang Chan x AFAB!Reader
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"What is it that you really want then babe?" "A lot," you whisper softly, looking away from him, "And quite frankly I'm terrified,"
Tags: Smut, Oral Sex (f receiving), Use of Hitachi Wand, Fluff, Slight Name-Calling (by author and chan lmao im so sorry), Petnames (baby, baby girl, etc.), Praises, Shy!Reader, Beginner!Reader,
Disclaimer: title is from TWICE's Cheer Up but the song is FAR from the story. i will make a part 2, but for now enjoy this one. Minors DNI. NSFW Content.
You and Chan have had sex once. He was your first time, and to say that it was sweet and tender was an understatement—and as much as you were shy to admit it, it got you hooked. However, it has been nearly a month since then and nothing seems to transpire between the both of you which left you slightly restless.
Did he find you inadequate the last time? Do you need to practice more? Did he not like it? And one of the self talk that jarred you so much was Why am I constantly horny? Laughable really, you bought a Hitachi wand just to get off yet it wasn't quite the same. Somehow in some way you turned insatiable, only stopped by your shyness and the want to preserve your dignity in front of Chan despite the raging horniness internally embedded in your system.
And worse part is you chose to shut up about it, letting it be kept in like a dirty little secret.
So whenever you and Chan are cuddling for movie night you have to make a more conscious effort to not touch too much, or grind on his thigh, or prolong the kiss just so that you don't jump him and immediately regret it because you have zero clue on what to do. Like right now;
He has one hand on your back, another on your waist, both of you laid down on the couch while he runs his fingers across your clothed spine gently, not even putting pressure. It was relaxing until it suddenly just wasn't. The touch was extremely light yet somehow exhilarating to you, like the little virgin whore that you are. "Y/N-ah?" his voice snaps you out as you rigidly look up, realizing that his ministrations stopped and his hand is parked up at the couch instead, a small frown forming on your face, "I'm sorry, did you not like that?" he softly asks before you tilt your head in confusion.
"The what Channie?"
"You suddenly tensed up, I thought maybe you didn't like being touched on your back,"
Your cheeks redden up, heat flaring on your face as you shake your head shyly, "Not at all!" you defend, wanting to be swallowed whole by the couch, "I–I don't hate it," you stammer.
"Baby, you can tell me if something makes you uncomfortable," Chan frowns, sitting both you and him up instead of laying down, "And I might've pulled your attention from the movie, I'm sorry,"
"No! I swear I'm not lying," you shake your head vehemently, "I didn't hate it Channie. I just–" and before you start to ramble on you stop, tongue automatically lodged in your mouth you couldn't even make a sound even if you wanted to. Chan furrows his brows a bit, "Just what?"
'I'm just incredibly horny when you do that,' was the sentence in mind but where was your tact. You remained seated there like an idiot, unmoving and absolutely speechless.
"I just hope you aren't forced to go ahead with my own whims, Y/N," and oh no he was pulling out the first names. What happened to baby, babe? "If it isn't what you want I can always compromise and comply,"
"Channie," you frown and take his hand, "Like I said it's not that I don't want it,"
"What is it that you really want then babe?"
"A lot," you whisper softly, looking away from him and simply conceding because that face was enough ti tear your heart into two. 0/10, not recommended. "And quite frankly I'm terrified," you admit before your grip against his hand fall weak.
"Like what? I promise I won't judge. I'll give you the world baby, just say the word," he cajoles, cupping your face tenderly as you peer through your lashes, "Promise?"
"I promise, sweet girl. What is it?"
You bite your lower lip, feeling a new surge and boost of confidence before you cup his face and gently pull him towards you, entrapping him in a kiss. You had no idea how to deepen it, simply pushing your lips against his and tugging on his shirt shyly with two fingers until he gets the request. He licks on your bottom lip as you give him leeway to slip it in, trying to slowly move along his motions while trying not to fuck things up by being greedy.
He slots into you perfectly, guiding your tongue against his as you let out a cute little whimper, eyes tightening shut before you both pull away–you for a reprieve and him to check if you were alright, always the gentleman. "Y/N?"
"I have a confession to make," you keep your two fingers on the hem of his shirt, "I–Ever since last month," you squeak out as nervousness makes its way to his face, "It's... It's like I turned into an entirely new person? Like I'm always..." you struggle to properly pull the words out as he patiently waits, "I always need you, Channie. For gods sake I bought a sex toy because of you," you reveal while burying your face in your hands as your boyfriend's eyes widen.
"Really baby?" he asks, his hands finding your arms while he rubs them comfortingly, "Do you...want to do it again?" he asks as you nod, still buried in your hands. "Look at me baby," he coerces you out of your palms, urging you to look up at him, "Do you?"
"Please Channie," you whine, "Don't make me say it out loud,"
"Then how am I gonna know what my baby wants if I don't?" he chuckles lightly, "What do you want? I can help you play with the toy, show me how you do it. Or you can ride my thigh, pretty little baby rubbing her pussy against my leg. Or I can fuck your pretty little cunt, what do you say?"
"Either and all?" you let out in barely a whisper before he chuckles, eyes glazing over with affection and lust before he pulls you to his lap, effectively straddling him. "All it is then," he smiles at you, "Just tell me what you want. I'm all yours,"
Your heart tightens at that, absolutely in love with this man and somehow your core tightens along making you tentatively grind against his thigh, clothed cunt flush against his shorts. "C–Can you guide me?" you ask. He nods before thumbing the garters of your pyjama shorts, "Let's get this off first pretty girl," he instructs before pulling it off, lifting the hem of his shorts so that his bare thigh is pressed against your clothed pussy.
He grips onto your hips, guiding you along as you grind softly, friction building up as your wet and aching cunt rubs along his skin, a series of sweet and small whimpers getting knocked off you as he simply observes, staring at your face intently while your hands try to scramble for anything. "You can touch yourself baby girl, it'll help,"
And without hesitation this time you start rubbing on your clit, feeling the dampness in your underwear grow before looking down to see a tent in Chan's underwear. "Chris, I wanna grind on your cock please," you request as he lets out a 'Fuck,' before tugging his shorts off, leaving him with only his boxer as you shift your placement and start grinding on his boner, a breathless sigh knocked out of you while you lazily rub your clit. "Mnh, fuck baby, I never knew you were this slutty," he chuckles while watching you, "Pretty little baby has so much to show me. Don't you?"
"Only for you," you moan while grinding, the knot in your stomach tightening as you look down and see the feral glint in his eyes adding up. "Kiss?" you ask before he cups the back of your head and pulls you down while you continue your ministrations against his hard cock, now nestled between the gap formed by your soaking underwear.
The kiss turns more and more obscene, the smacking sounds absolutely fuel to the fire in your core, spit swapping between the two of you. Suddenly your clit gets tugged up against your underwear, a louder much more prominent moan knocked out of you which makes Chan's body tense up, "Fuck baby, I wanna eat you out," he begs, "I wanna hear more of that. Can I please?"
You nod before he grabs you by the back of your thighs, instinctively locking your own legs around his waist while he carries you to your bedroom.
Placing you down, he immediately crawls to your aching heat, wet and warm against the fabric of your panties. He tugs on them wordlessly, nearly ripping them off before he simply stares at it. "Where's the toy you bought my love?"
You crawl over the night stand, opening a drawer before pulling out the Hitachi wand and handing it to him shyly. "I–I love playing with my clit," you explain, "It feels good,"
"Alright, I got you," he nods before grabbing the backs of your knees and placing it on his broad shoulders while your stomach tenses up in anticipation. You still had your shirt and bra on but essentially bottomless already, feeling more of a pervert than if you were completely naked. And without warning, Chan licks up a stripe on your pussy, making you yelp out.
He kisses up on your folds before slotting his tongue through, the vibrations of the Hitachi suddenly come to life as he presses it against your clit while fucking into you with his tongue. A loud, obscene moan escapes you, tugging on his hair and your thighs tightening against his face which makes the vibrations more intense.
"Chan!" you yell out, name slipping from your raw bitten lips line a mantra, "Fuck! Fuck! Channie!" you cry out, slowly getting more and more overwhelmed before he stops the wand and detaches his face, making you whine.
Spit and slick cover his chin and nose as he laughs breathlessly, "Fuck, you're so delicious baby girl,"
"Daddy make me cum," you whimper and beg.
"We have all night baby," he soothingly rubs his hand over your thigh, before ducking back in between your lap, "Feeling alright?"
"The best," you choke out, "It feels so amazing Channie,"
"Good," he simply states before you could feel a finger prod into your hole while his tongue starts laving at your cunt again, slurping heard as it makes you roll your eyes back and arch up in pleasure. A litany of moans and whines escape you uncontrollably, Chan's name and profanities a steady stream.
As you approach your high, you can feel the tension in your stomach tightening, toes curling in pleasure while you fist the sheets. He grabs the wand again and presses it against your bud, tongue still spearing into you as the noises spilling out your throat get louder. You tug on his hair, biting your lip with a long drawn groan mixing with his' before you feel the knot unfurl, sensitivity at its peak while you spill into Chan's mouth, his tongue laving and lapping up at your juices.
Your thighs tremble by the sides of his head, a cry escaping you while he keeps on overstimulating you with the Hitachi, making you tug on his arm, "Good girl, take it for now sweet thing. My shy slut," he grins down at you.
Your legs continue to writhe about because of the spent nerves on your clit before he finally pulls away and you let out a deep breath out of relief, eyes clouded with lust and half lidded. You reach out to cup Chan's face, wiping off the slick on his chin with your thumb before licking it off.
"Thank you Daddy," you whisper before pulling his face closer, "Would you please fuck me now? Pretty please? Put your dick into me?"
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chuuyasheaven · 5 months
Note
I will give you real money to not have dazai saying bella or donna or belladonna . [makes out with you]
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♡ Everything for you, my love. ♡
Tags: Dazai Osamu / afab! Reader, birthday sex, pet names (darling, princess, pretty[girl]), praising, lingerie, soft but rough sex?, overstimulation?, pw/op (idk, maybe some plot?), ooc! Dazai?, fingering, orgasm denial (only once), slight teasing?, might contain grammar errors, a bit rushed?, might be short, etc.
Notes: Funfact! When i first started writing, i DESPISED using "belladonna" as a pet name !! But since I listen to my followers, I'll try not to use it this time to see if i stop at all. So, since my birthday was a week ago (17th November), I wanna write this !! Don't worry, there's DEFINITELY gonna be a Chuuya version !! :3
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"Are you done yet?", Dazai asked impatiently. "Yeah,", you responded shyly, walking out of the bathroom. Dazai's analyzed your whole body with the lingerie he brought for your birthday, smirking at you. "Look at how pretty you look, darling.", he exclaimed charmingly. "T–thanks, Dazai.", you quietly respond again. You walked closer towards him with flushed cheeks. "How about you give me a quick twirl, hm?", you nodded before spinning for him, showing your dark–red laced lingerie to him. After showing off, Dazai grabbed your hand and pulled you onto his lap. Landing on him with your hands on his chest, he looked at your surprised face before chuckling softly.
His hand made it's way to your chin, holding it gently before moving closer to your face. Being inches away from your face, he crashed his lips against yours, the kiss starting passionately until it turned into a make out session. You threw your arms around his neck, pulling yourself closer to his chest. Separating for air, he looked into your eyes while popping the question. "Do you want me to prepare you first?", you take a few seconds to think before nodding. Dazai's hand left your chin, sliding down your body until it reached your dark–red laced panties waistband. His fingers slid even further down, pushing your panties to the side to let his fingers slide inside you.
You whimpered quietly as two of his fingers entered your cunt. Dazai started to move them inside you, in ways he knew would make you melt. He knew what he was doing, hitting your sensitive spots multiple times. Into fingering you, the pleasure you felt had you get weaker, leaning onto him. "A–ah. . Dazai. .", you moaned quietly. Even though you couldn't see his face, you knew that he was smirking. You got closer as this went on, and Dazai could obviously tell by the way you clenched around his fingers. But before that— yes, you guessed it— he pulled his fingers out of you, leaving you to whine. "Don't worry, princess, you'll get to cum. In fact, lay down onto the bed for me, alright?", you got up while Dazai stood up himself.
"Would you look at that,", just laying down, you look at where his finger pointed, a stain from your slick on his pants. "My pants have to go anyways.", Dazai said before unbuckling his belt, looking at the beautiful sight in front of him. With his pants off, his boxers slid down his legs, lastly his shirt was removed. Dazai got closer to you by hovering over you, pressing a small kiss against your lips. "Ready?", he asked you waiting for an answer, you nodded again. "With words, princess,", ". . Yes, Dazai!", you responded. Dazai rubbed his dick a few times before going in slowly. You moaned while he went inside, Dazai himself started to groan at the feeling. "F–fuck, you're so. .,", Dazai choked on his own words when he was fully inside. "Tell me when to move, darling–", he barely finished his sentence before you interrupted him. "N–now, please!!", you tell him.
You didn't have to tell him twice, once you gave him permission, he moved. As Dazai thrusted into your desperate cunt, your arms were thrown over his neck again. Soon the room smelled like sex, skin clapping and moans being the sound being heard. "You're doing s–so good— fuck. . ,", you moaned again, the feeling overwhelming you slightly. Dazai got faster, wanting to chase both of your orgasms. "F–feels good. .", you were able to say, Dazai lifting your leg a little to hit deeper. "Yeah? Keep being such a good girl for me, alright, pretty?", soon enough, your climax was getting closer, your moans getting louder. "D–dazai, 'm close. .", you manage to tell him. "My pretty girl's close? You wanna cum, don't you?", he teased even though he knew you needed to cum. With this information, Dazai sped up his thrusts again. It only took a few more until you clenched and came around him. When you did, Dazai came into you with a grunt, not pulling out yet.
"—Another round, birthday girl?"
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CHUUYA VER IS BEING WRITTEN NOW !!!
RANDOM TAGS: @soukokulatte, @rxyyyyy, @kk-oma !!
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sameschmidtdiffname · 3 months
Text
Sweet Delights
Peeta Mellark x AFAB!Reader
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Summery: It's a slow work day in District 12. With rain pouring down outside, who can blame you for wanting to indulge a little? Everything's fine so long as no one walks in... right?
Tags: Pre-established relationship, no use of y/n, pet names, reader has AFAB body/female pronouns, switch!Peeta, switch!Reader, edging, female fingering, teasing, count down, orgasm denial, blow job, face fucking, public sex, someone walks in, dirty talk, Peeta's a freak but he's sweet about it, praise kink if you squint, mentions of eating out, cum swallowing, cursing, post-Mockingjay but that's not really relevant, no reader orgasm this time around. Once again, I'm probably forgetting something.
Notes: I have to say, I did not expect Peeta to win the poll! And not to worry for everyone else, I'll get to all those characters eventually. (Derek girlies, I see you and I love you.) Thank you for your support on the last one, I hope you like this one too! Bon ABBA teeth.
•°《▪︎♡▪︎》°•
Peeta loves surprises.
Giving them, receiving them. If it's unexpected, Peeta is practically bouncing off his chair to figure out what to do with it.
It made everyday life sweeter. Slipping a note into his apron pocket when he wasn't looking for him to discover, finding a million more hidden in my apron. Little drawings hidden amongst everyday things, like the wildflowes Peeta likes to draw and place next to my powders and perfumes. But best of all surprises were the little pastries we would make when the days were slow and the other was watching the front of the bakery. Usually using scraps, because Peeta detests wasting food, but always delicious nonetheless.
The best innocent surprise, I should say.
Today was an especially slow day. Rain pounding down in District 12, making the roads thick with mud. It's a blessing for the hot ovens that fight against the cold seeping through the front windows. Although they're helping me more than Peeta, who's up front perched at the counter, insistent as always that someone needs to be watching the shop. "We won't hear the bell over the rain," he'd said.
I knew better than that. There were tells when Peeta wanted a surprise. He'd never just ask for something, always fearing rejection. Of course the minute I opened my mouth he was ready to do whatever I had even intrusively dreamed of so long as it meant love and praise. But to ask for himself? It's a whole different matter. So when he is insistent I work alone in the back, I understand that this is his own silent way of asking for some sort of surprise. And with the way his broad shoulders look in that pale yellow knit sweater, who am I to deny him?
I'm not one to deny him anything, quite frankly.
The best surprises of all are when we sneak up behind the other, always starting so innocently. Maybe while one of us is baking, maybe while one of us is simply dressing. With the quick slip of a hand, it doesn't take long before the other is panting and begging for release. Not that we always give it to each other.
Peeta liked sneaking up on me in private. Usually when I was in the back baking.
"What are you working on?" He'd usually ask.
"Custom order," I may answer with a smile. He liked my smiles, always said so.
"What are the details?" He'd ask. He'd put his hands on my lower back, rubbing soft enough to not disturb me while still working out some knots.
Then I'd prattle off details. This one is for so-and-so down on whatever-street-or-corner, they'd like a cake.
"For the Harvest Festival?" He'd ask. I'd nod, still focused on my task. "How many orders do we have for the Festival?"
"A good bit, it's our busiest time," I'd always say with a bright, soft tone to my voice. He'd chuckle, placing a small kiss on the back of my neck and pressing his hips against mine from behind, usually revealing his hard on.
"So, how many orders this year?" He'd ask. His hands would work at a knot, his breath hot on my neck, and his hips would roll ever so slowly against mine, taking his time to build both of us up.
"Ah, I think- I think 12?" I'd say, trying to focus on both him and whatever I was making. Cake. Right. Stir.
"12?" He'd ask. His cock would be deliciously hard, grinding against my clothed cunt just a bit harder as his hands would return to my hips, steadying me against him. "That's pretty good."
"Double digits," I'd say brightly, my voice breathy as I struggle more to focus. Cake. Stir. Hands, not hips.
But I'd always do hips instead, leaning back and tilting my head ever so slightly so he can see my enjoyment.
"You need to stir," Peeta would gently guide in my ear. My back would press against his front, his chin now resting on my shoulder.
"I know," I'd say softly. I didn't know shit.
He'd chuckle, one hand slipping to my front to cup one of my breasts.
"Need to get those orders out," he'd remind me. "You always seem so stressed about being on time."
"One of us has to be," I'd say. His hand on my hip would find the band of my pants, slipping past them and teasing me, sliding his fingers against my wet folds.
"Pick up the whisk," he'd instruct. My hands would shake as they obeyed, moving from being splayed across the marble counter to resume my task.
"Stir slowly," he'd say. His large fingers would slip over my entrance, coating himself in the thick lube now dripping from me. "You want to make sure the texture's correct."
It took such mental energy to balance the two things. Especially when he would finally sink in his middle finger, always going knuckle deep and twirling it around inside of me, making sure to leave no spot untouched. His other hand would pinch and pull at my breast, giving special care to make his fingers replicate the feeling of his soft lips wrapped around my sensitive nipples.
"What's the next order?" He'd ask. I could feel myself dripping down his hand, and I knew he loved this. Peeta would do whatever he could to make sure I was wet, even when he wouldn't go any further than simple teasing. I think he liked the idea of me always being ready. Not that he would assume. He always started out slow, and if I ever said no it was never a big deal. He'd simply continue talking to me and go on with his day perfectly fine. But if I was willing, he'd always massage or do whatever until he could feel my arousal himself. I think it's why he likes eating out best. Especially when I'd talk him through it, usually promising to cum down his throat while tugging his soft blond hair. His eyes would grow wide and soft at that, his whimpers increasing as he'd fuck me quicker with his tongue, grinding himself against whatever. It was a beautiful mess he'd turn himself into, desperate and begging silently as he clutched my hips.
"The what?" I'd ask breathlessly. I was tight around him, focused on how slow and sweet he was pumping in and out, twirling and wiggling his finger inside of me. His other hand slipping under my shirt, and his lips sucking gently at my neck, careful not to leave bruises.
"The orders, sweetheart," he'd gently remind me. "What's the next one?"
My lips would part, eyes fluttering shut as I tried to remember. His middle finger would pump out and then pump back in with the addition of his pointer finger, tearing a soft moan from my throat.
"Shh," he'd gently whisper. "We're at work."
He liked this little game. Ramping me up, forcing me to behave a certain way so to not tip off customers. If Peeta wouldn't immediately be arrested for it, something tells me he'd simply fuck me in the front room, bent over the register counter during business hours and just act like it's a normal thing. Such a sweet boy.
"I- ah- need to look at the book," I'd say. He'd roll my nipple between his two fingers, his other two fingers pumping slightly faster as his lips suck at the spot just under my ear.
"You have such a good memory though," he'd say. "You can remember. Just think."
That's a lie. I have a horrible memory and we both know it. But if I say I can't, he'll pull away. Sweet and gentle, he'll go get the book and place a million kisses on my cheek before leaving me to my work and dizziness.
Next order. Next order. That's easy. It's a tart with cream on top. Cream. God, I'd like his cock in my mouth right now.
"Next order. Come on, pretty girl. I know you know it," he'd softly encourage.
"I know it," I'd moan, my head tilted back and resting on his shoulder, fucking his fingers instead of working on the cake. He feels so good, so warm and protecting. Simply smelling the traces of dill and cinnamon baked into his skin made my mind shut off, my eyes growing tired from the feeling of safety.
"I know you know it," he'd say so sweetly. "You're smart, pretty. And you've got a delicious cunt I'd love to fuck over and over if I could," he'd say softly, placing warm kisses on my neck between each point. I was panting openly now, squeezing my eyes shut as I tried desperately to remember who ordered what.
His fingers curled inside of me, making rapid 'come hither' motions fast enough to steal a soft, sudden cry fron my lips. Peetas mouth found mine, swallowing my moans and giving me some of his own.
"I may have to count down, sweet girl," he'd warn me. His fingers had found my g spot, hitting and rubbing it at rapid speed. The cuff of his sweater is soaked from me, his hand sticky and coated. I shake my head quickly, moaning and gripping the counter as best I could to keep myself standing.
"I can remember," I whimpered. Peeta laughed softly.
"I know you can, sweet girl. But look at you, you're a total mess." His voice is sweet and kind, his eyes taking in my current state. "I can't have you all dumb back here during work hours."
He's sweet but he's cruel. God, he's cruel!
"I think there's berries in it," I stammered.
"Ten," he's start patiently, his teeth tugging at my earlobe.
"N-no, wait! There's- There's berries and there's..." I'm completely making this up. I have no clue what's next.
"Nine," he continued, knowing this.
"That's not fair, you started low on purpose!" I whined.
"Eight." He wouldn't argue. I was right.
"It's got- got cottage cheese frosting." I'm so close, so awfully close. I can feel myself clenching around him rapidly, my pussy swallowing his fingers quicker and quicker as I climbed closer towards the edge.
"Seven." Oh, God. This motherfucker.
"Six. Come on, good girl. You can do this," he'd encourage sweetly, kissing my cheek and trailing to my collarbone with said kisses.
"They wanted flowers on the top. Violets, I remember that!" That detail is actually true, surprisingly. The candy violets were always easy to remember because I loved them so much.
"Five." His other hand kneeded my breast, admiring the soft flesh and running his thumb over my stiff, aching nipple repeatedly. "Four."
"You're speeding up," I whined. "This isn't fair."
He let out a soft 'aw,' apologizing and speeding his hands to bring me closer to the edge.
"If you can come before one, I'll fuck you right here," he promised. "You can come before one, can't you?"
I nodded stupidly, moaning and panting as I sped up my hips, slamming down on his hand repeatedly. Cake details be damned, this is my mission now.
"Three." I'm so impossibly close.
"Two."
"Wait a minute, slow down-"
"One."
With one final, cruel, hard thrust of his hand he slips away, leaving me to almost crumple to the ground and opening my eyes to blink stupidly, trying to process what just happened.
"You okay?" He asked softly, his dry hand cupping my cheek and looking at me carefully with his sweet, hazel eyes.
A long, soft whine escaped me, batting my lashes as I lean against him and whisper as many 'please's as I can, pressing a dozen kisses all over him. He laughed softly, returning the kisses with whispered 'I love you's.
"Let me go get that book," he'd said. And that was that until that evening when he made up for it like he always did.
Now I was carefully removing a tiny apple pie made from leftovers meant specifically for Peeta. The rain was as bad as ever as I entered the front room, Peeta leaning on the palm of his hand while he struggled not to doze off. His long lashes flutter softly, his lips pressing against each other and his jaw a bit tight.
"Hi sleepyhead," I whisper, sneaking up behind him. He started a little, turning to look at me with the sweetest smile he has.
"Hi," he says cheerily, his voice just a touch gravely. His eyes glance down to the small treat in my hands, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Is that for me?"
"Of course it is," I say, placing it in front of him. "Figured you could use something to warm you up. It's freezing up here."
He chuckles. "It's not that cold," he says as he picks up the fork I'd placed next to the tiny pie and began scooping some up.
"Liar," I teased. "You're shivering."
He shifts in his seat slightly. "Not from that," he says, a small blush growing on his cheeks. He takes the first bite, then another, smiling and leaning his head against my shoulder.
"Thank you, dear," he says softly. He leans in for a kiss to which I happily oblige, cupping his jaw with my left hand. His lips taste sweet, the sticky apple and cinnamon tasting delicious on him. I swipe my tongue across his lips, stealing a soft moan from him as he allows my tongue access to his mouth, melting in my hands. His hand dropped the fork, accidently missing the pan and instead hitting the counter, but neither of us care. His hand comes up to the back of my neck, pulling me closer to silently ask me for more.
My other hand trails down to his lap, finding one of his hands already there, palming his stiff, clothed cock through his pants.
"Is this what you were doing when I came up?" I ask softly, pulling away from the kiss only a bit. He chases me, biting at my bottom lip to drag me back to him. That's a yes, then.
My tongue explores his warm mouth, tasting him while my hand traces the outline of his dick, pressing and flicking against the tip. He whines, bucking softly into my hand, desperate for more.
"Can you stay quiet?" I ask him, pulling away again. This time my hand on the back of his neck grabs his golden locks, holding him still as I look into his eyes. His cheeks are red as well as his lips, kiss swollen and damp. His breathing is heavy, his eyes blown out. Barely touched and already a beautiful mess.
"Huh?" He asks, his voice higher than usual as he tries to focus. His hand grasping my wrist, making sure to keep my hand where he can buck against it.
"If I asked you to, would you stay quiet?" I repeat gently, teasing him with kisses by leaning forward and pulling away. We both liked this.
"Yes," he said quickly. "Anything."
"Anything?" I ask, raising my brows.
"Anything."
Alright.
I press a quick, admittedly sloppy kiss to his lips once more before dropping to my knees and slipping under the counter. His brows furrow in confusion before he realizes what I'm doing.
"You can't!" He whispers frantically. "What if someone walks in?"
"That's why I asked if you could stay quiet," I say patiently. "Can you?"
He bites his lip, obviously unsure. His eyes dart between me and the shop door, thinking.
"We can wait," I offer genuinely. This seems to be the deciding factor.
"I'll be quiet," he promises eagerly. "I've got a pie I can shove in my mouth if I can't, right?" He jokes, his smile crooked and eager as his hands work quickly to begin freeing himself. He's excited alright.
"Right," I say, taking his hands away and undoing the buttons on his pants myself. "Just keep watch of the shop, alright sweet boy?" He nods, placing his arms on the counter and trying to resume his position.
I slip his cock from the confines of his clothes, pressing a soft wet kiss to the underside along a thick vein. A quiet whine escapes him, his hand covering his mouth. I'm not truly worried about him being quiet, no one is going to come in here during such bad weather. It's just an edge to help work him into a frenzy, knowing full well he never stays quiet. I'd thought I was vocal when we started our relationship, but Peeta easily takes the cake.
His cock is warm, half hard against my lips that trail his veins. My tongue slides from his tip to his base, barely any pressure on his skin. Grazing always works best to start out with. When I reach his base I lap at his skin, blowing soft, cold air against the wet spots to make him squirm in his chair. I focus on his base for a while, sucking, licking, blowing. Ever so gently I even bite just the tiniest bit, enough for him to notice the edges of my teeth along his red, pulsing cock. His voice is soft, panting quietly.
My tongue trails slowly up his cock, exploring different ridges and spots that make him whimper quietly, working my way back to his tip which is soaked with thick, warm precum. I wrap my lips around him, swiping the moisture away with my tongue in one round sweep. I relish in the cry it tears from his throat, the dozen little apologies he whimpers immediately after. His hand covers his mouth, and the other trails down to gently cup the back of my head. I smile around him, swirling my spit around his tip as I suck gently, pressing my tongue against the underside of his dick.
His fingers play with my hair, unintentionally tugging it and apologizing as he does. I simply squeeze his thighs and begin lowering myself, taking him until his tip hits the back of my throat, taking deep, even breaths to fight off the gags that threaten to escape me.
It's when my nose buries in his soft, curly hair at his base that the bell of the front door rings.
"Hi!" Peeta says a little too quickly, a little too brightly. "Welcome to Mellarks Bakery. How may we- I help you today?"
I'm frozen, his hand gripping my hair out of anxiety. If I pull away, we'll be done. If I stay here, Peeta may very well have to make good on his promise.
Although, acting has never been a challenge for him, has it?
The customer is describing a custom tart she wants made, then pulling out a long list and prattling about this, that, and the other thing. Her accent clearly shows her as a Capitol transfer, and these orders always take forever given that they still have a hard time releasing the concept of not over indulging. But this time I don't plan on complaining.
My tongue begins to move slowly, rubbing carefully along the bottom of his cock while I watch his face carefully. He's smiling at the woman who's still going down the list, his eyes glancing at me to confirm this is what we're doing. With a small nod from me, his hand casually covers his mouth once more and he resumes focus on the woman, his other hand now guiding my head slowly, carefully.
He pulls me to the tip of his dick, working me back and forth slowly on just that spot. My tongue works quickly, my lips wrapping around him tightly to help create proper suction around him while I suck.
"Do you have pumpkin?" The woman asks.
"W- what?" Peeta asks, clearing his throat. "Oh, pumpkin. I'll admit I'm running a little low, it's been a popular request since we don't grow them locally. I've requested more but I don't know if they'll be in in time, so if you want something that uses it you'll have to get it-" his voice cracks as I deepthroat him again, swallowing around him quickly before returning myself to his tip. He clears his throat. "You'll have to reserve it right now," he finishes. I can see him quickly scoop up some of the pie, shoving it in his mouth and trying to hide his blush. It's lucky for us how oblivious Capitol born citizens are.
His hand guides me faster, focusing on fucking his tip near the back of my throat since we both know full well how hitting the back of my throat isn't an option. We can't risk any noise gagging may cause since it may not be covered up by the soft music playing on the shop speakers, a gift from Beetee for the reopening.
His pace is fast, faster than it should be. He's close, smiling at the woman and acting as though everything is normal. His large vein throbs, precum spilling out of him with each new thrust into my mouth. My hand reaches to press two digits against the soft spot behind his balls, a sensitive spot that makes him cry and squirm.
His jaw tightens as I do this, his eyes darting down daggers quickly. I can hear coins on the counter, Peeta accepting the list and opening the register. With the loud 'clank' springing forth from the older device, he takes the chance to slam my face down fully on his cock, his fingers making the coins loudly shift around as he gives the customer her change. Tears spring to my eyes from the sudden force, swallowing around him as I focus on my breathing to recover. He promises the woman he'll do what he can and wishes her a good day, and she coos sweetly. She reaches across the counter, patting his cheek and calling him a sweet boy before turning and walking out of the bakery, the bell chiming at her exit.
Peeta looks down at me, smiling brightly. "Hi," he says with a newfound excitement.
I moan around his cock. He gets it.
"You okay?" He asks, his hands moving to cup my cheeks. I make an affirming noise, trying to smile. "I wasn't too rough, was I?" He asks, his thumbs swiping away the small tears dangling from my bottom lashes. I shake my head, swallowing around him. He moans softly, his grip tightening.
"Yeah, I kinda forgot you like it when I am, don't you?" He asks, beginning to slowly pump his dick in and out of the back of my throat. I moan happily, taking him as easily as I can.
"You know how hard it was not coming down your throat with that lady in here?" He asks. "I had to edge myself so that it wouldn't become known how much I like fucking your throat."
My cunt throbs at his words, his closeness making him willing to be more rough. He starts fucking my face in earnest, tearing noises from both of our throats as he loses himself.
"Can't do that again," he pants. "Next time I'm just taking you. I don't care who walks in." He's moaning openly now, his cock abusing me. I can feel him throbbing, twitching. There's enough precum it's all I can do to focus on swallowing and breathing.
"Show this whole District how much I love you," he babbles. "I'll eat you out on this fucking counter, I don't give a fuck."
I press my heel against my clit, grinding into it to relieve some friction as my hands steady my body against his thighs. The chair underneath of him creeks horribly. If anyone walked in now, I don't even think we'd have a small second to hide what we're doing.
"I love your fucking pussy," he rambles, his eyes beginning to flutter shut. "Love your fucking mouth. You take me so well. So eagerly."
I moan around him, spit dribbling from my mouth, hair stuck to my face. His balls slam against my chin, his wet curls pressing against my nose as he face fucks me like a rabid animal.
"I'm gonna cum down your throat," he announces. "Then you're gonna cum down mine. Again," thrust. "And again," thrust. "Until we don't even have to make dinner from how full we'll be." Goddamn, he's close.
His hands are rough, gripping my face. "Rub your tongue harder," he commands. I do, putting as much pressure as I can on his throbbing vein. He moans loudly, leaning forward and clutching my head.
"I'm coming," he pants, his voice high and tired. "Fuck, I'm coming-!"
His warm, thick load shoots down my throat, filling my mouth so much I cant breathe if I want to swallow it all.
"Such a sweet girl," he praises. "So sweet and good, eager to make me cum." His face is pressed against the cool counter, his chest heaving as he recovers his breath. His thumbs stroke my cheeks at different paces, small whimpers escaping him as I milk him dry with my mouth, making sure not a drop is left behind. When he's fully softened, I place a small kiss on his tip before tucking him back in, rebuttoning his clothes and patting his thighs one more time.
It takes a moment for me to rise, my joints stiff and my mind scrambled from the abuse it had just suffered. I stumble a little as I stand, Peeta's weak arms collecting my body and bringing me into a warm embrace.
"You're wonderful," he whispers, resting his head against my chest. I chuckle softly, placing a soft kiss on the top of his messy hair.
"So are you," I say.
He looks up at me, flushed and smiling at me with the most wonderful, lazy look on his face.
"Your turn," he says, finding a new wave of surprising strength and placing me on the counter.
"Peeta, we're still open," I giggle, batting his hands away.
"I know," he says. "Did you think I was joking?"
He stares at me, smiling and eager as he begins to part my legs.
This is going to be a long night.
•《♡》•
Whoever gets second place on the poll is who I'm writing next. Feel free to send in requests for characters/scenarios! See you next time, you degenerates <3
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angelltheninth · 7 months
Text
Arthur Morgan Teaches You How to Ride Him
Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, dick riding, guidance, encouragement, inexperience, age-gap
A/N: Can we all agree that he is the hottest cowboy dilf?
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"You wanna sit on there nice and slow sweetheart. Know you're eager for it but don't hurt yourself now." That was funny coming from the man who was just in a bar fight. You can still see the bruising on his knuckles and see where his lip was split. "Did seeing me fight do it for you? So wet down there, I'm thinking it just might've."
"It's not the fight I promise you." Maybe a little but more of it was Arthur's charm and boldness. And how delicately he treated you. Sure you knew he could give you a rough pounding, enough to potentially break the bed but he was set on teaching you something new today.
Today was a riding lesson. Dick riding to be exact.
You tried to take him in right away, which proved a little painful even with how slick you were. You balanced yourself on your knees above his hips, your pussy touching the red tip of his cock, hands on his chest, feeling the chest hair and the scars from knives and bullets. This sounded much easier then it proved to be when he suggested it.
"I might not be as young as I used to be but I'll still throw my fists for a pretty young lady's honor." Arthur wanted to protect you as much as he wanted to corrupt your mind with all sorts of sinful ideas, such as meeting him night after night, sneaking out just to fuck him, "Besides I reckon none of those wannabe tough guys back there could teach you half the things I know. Ain't that right baby?" His hands pushed you down with the right amount that you felt the pressure, but not enough to bruise as the cockhead pushed just past your entrance. "There we go, right where my cock should be. Now I want you to start rolling your hips downwards, slowly, until you're able to fit the whole thing inside there."
Your hips started moving, breath hitching with every inch of his cock that you managed to take. You've taken it plenty of times in the past but you were never the one on top, and even with this newfound control you had over the movements you thought it better to listen to Arthur's advice then take him all at once. Instead on the feeling of lust you focused on how his cock stretched you open more and more, causing you to tighten and release around him, looking at his smile which grew wider and wider until settling on a permanent grin when you took his whole length.
"Atta girl." With his feet firmly planted on the bed Arthur folded his arms behind his head to enjoy himself to the fullest. "Gotta say I'm real comfy like this."
"Yeah? Am I making you feel good, Arthur?" A big, satisfied smile split across your face. Your hips were still touching him when you tried wiggling around a bit, feeling every inch of his twitching cock, perfectly angled to hit your deepest spots, "Can you tell how good you make me feel too?"
"I'd be worried if I didn't. You're gonna need to go up slowly, repeat the sliding until it goes in smoothly for you, then you can start to pick up the pace. Be sure to keep your balance too, because sometimes," He pushed his hips upwards, making you moan his name along with a deep whimper, "you might get yourself a surprise or two."
Nodding you let his body settle back down and you on top of him again, filled with his cock and the new found confidence that you could make him feel just as good as he made you feel.
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ciellunee · 5 months
Note
hey hi hello could u do a fic with toji fushiguro and maybe gojo?
one of them (or both 🤭) with a reader who has a very big attitude. like always making up comebacks, acting like a diva, etc. she also has really great hair and outfits. it can be sfw or nsfw—whichever one works better.
Hey! I hope you're doing good✨️ enjoy reading and keep requesting♡
Bratty reader x jjk men
Includes - Toji fushiguro, Gojo satoru
Tw⚠️- contains NSFW 🔞 minors dni
☆Toji fushiguro☆
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At first, he's charmed by your attitude. Nobody ever dared to talk to him like that, but you, you were different.
You're gorgeous. He's in awe of the way you present yourself. From your hair to clothes, your figure and personality, everything is charismatic. Cherry on top is that attitude of yours. You know just what to say. Sometimes, it hurts his ego, but mostly, he enjoys that cute little smirk you have with every spicy comeback.
"Tojiiii, you always have to work on weekends," you whined. 'Some people need to work in order to earn money princess, unlike some who'll laze around the house munching on chips and then complaint they're getting fat.' He shot you a devilish smirk.
"Funny how you're still living under my roof when you work, and I laze around" getting closer to his ears you whisper - ' talk to me like that again and you'll be sleeping on street'
Acting like a brat? He'll make sure he punishes you.
◇NSFW◇
Toji fushiguro doesn't play when it comes to punishments.
He knows how to knock some discipline into your bratty self.
Will pound you from behind and makes you look in the mirror while you continually repeat- "I'm sorry daddy, I've been a brat!"
Degradation is toji's kink. Asks you to repeat things like 'who's sl*t you are' and makes you beg for forgiveness.
Fucks you hard all night until you pass out from all the orgasms you've had.
"Next time make sure your cu*t can keep up with your mouth princess"
☆Gojo satoru☆
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Satoru is fun loving when it comes to you. He adores you so damn much that it doesn't matter how bratty you get sometimes.
One thing everyone knows about satoru is that, he's a very jealous man. He knows you're gorgeous. Your shiny locks, elegant clothing and beautiful skin....everything about you makes him crazy.
"Babyyyyyyy!! I miss your cuddles, you're always so busy" satoru groans. 'I can stop working as soon as you stop leaving your damn work unattended' you shrug.
"You're so mean I bet utahime would treat me alot more sweetly" he smirks. He's petty and he knows that. 'And I am pretty sure Kento would be my ideal match. He never complaints, always have my back, he's a great cook and above all......he's so hot!'
This was enough to throw satoru off the table. You're a mean brat and he NEEDS to cater to that.
◇NSFW◇
"Yeah?? Want to cum babygirl" your moans are slippery and eyes filled with tears. 'Toru ple-please' you whined.
Satoru edges you the whole night, reminding you who he his. "You're always so wet for me"
Asks you to moan his name louder and louder so that you know who's making you feel so good. Loves it when your mind breaks and the only thing you can think about or speak about his him.
"Weren't so sweet a while back? You think kento can take care of you like this? You think kento can make you feel like this? You think kento can make this cunt throb this much?"
Edges you to the climax multiple times but removes his hands until you cry and beg for his forgiveness.
I'll let you cum once I feel you're truly sorry. Till then....let's see how much this pu*sy can endure.
Tags- @brunette-bitch77
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dhoranbolt · 3 months
Text
Devilish
a/n: Happy (late) Valentine's! I suck at time management this was supposed to be out like a week ago lmao. Brought to you by that one Sukuna art, Fleabag, the songs Church/Devilish by Chase Atlantic, and really just my priest kink in general, yeah.
Disclaimer - I am not super religious forgive me if none of this makes sense lmao idk
Friendly reminder- if your age isn't easily accessible on your profile I will not be tagging you! That said if you'd like a tag in future works let me know and I'll add you to the list!
Bestie beta reader: @yukios-medic ily ma'am as always you keep me sane 🥹💙
Pairing: priest!Sukuna x fem!reader
cw/tw: minors/ageless blogs DNI, priest kink, degradation, reader is called good girl, oral (female receiving) unprotected sex, cream pie, dirty talk
Word count: 5.7k
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She’s seen him around the coffee shop she frequents every once in a while. ‘Gorgeous’ might be an understatement – maybe ‘sculpted by the gods’ would be a more accurate description.
He’s tall, muscular, from what she can tell under his loose-fitting tee and jeans. She swears she’s not gawking, but with the tattoos that line his face and arms, so intricate yet simple, his fluffy pink hair, could anyone really blame her for staring a second too long?
He’s so breathtaking, she might just be showing up to the coffee shop more often than she used to just in the hopes of glimpsing him a little longer. Maybe in a different t-shirt, maybe in a suit– okay stop.
She’s decided to take a seat while she waits for her order to be called out, not having paid particular attention to who from the list of regulars she sees strewn about the shop.
“Order for Father Kuna!” She huffs a small laugh out as the barista calls the name with such a straight face, and then pink hair is blocking the view. Her breath catches in her throat the moment he turns around to walk back to his table with a grin, and their eyes meet. Her heart jumps into her throat, but the moment is only that- a moment, and then he’s moving out of her view, back to the table of other men laughing as he rejoins their group.
She chances a look that way to see a man with long black hair, and another with short white hair. She looks away before any of them can feel her eyes on them. It was enough that he was so attractive, but all three of them?
It’s not the first time she’s seen him smile, but it is the first time he’s looked at her, smile widening as they lock eyes.
Granted, it’s only Tuesday, this whole week has been one inconvenience after another, and her visit to the coffee shop is not an exception. In her rush to find caffeine, she’d neglected to bring her wallet with her. So, imagine her surprise when she moves to pull it from her purse and pay, only to notice it missing.
She’s huffing as she frantically looks through the bag again. The cashier in front of her looks bored, like this is probably not the first time this exact situation has taken place today, and if the world could just open up and swallow her whole right now, that would be great–
“I can pay, if you can’t find your wallet.” A voice calls from behind her, and if her cheeks weren’t already red from embarrassment at her current situation, they would be now.
Turning to look at the owner of the voice, she’s met with an abdomen, and as she follows it up, black tattoos come into view, and so does pink hair, and are his eyes red–
“Oh, please no, it’s fine I’ll just–” He laughs, and she feels like every inconvenience in her life could just melt away at the sound.
“I insist. Besides, what kind of good Samaritan would I be if I left a damsel without the caffeine she looks like she might break down without?” Her face scrunches up at his comment, but before she can question it, he’s stepping past her to order his own drink and pay.
“I was joking, by the way. About the caffeine comment. I’m sorry if it came across rude, you just looked a little you could have used a laugh. Long week?” She laughs and nods as they wait off to the side for their drinks.
“The longest. And thank you for paying, really you didn’t have to, but I appreciate it, nonetheless.” He grins again and her heart might actually jump out of her chest at just how painfully gorgeous this man is.
“It’s no issue, I like helping people where I can.”
“Well, I’m going to pay you back after this, just so you know.” He chuckles and shakes his head.
“There’s no need, we’ll say I just did it out of the kindness of my heart and leave it at that.”
“I don’t like feeling like I owe people.”
“Then don’t feel that way.” She lets out an exasperated huff as she looks up at him, but he’s grinning down at her again.
“Okay fine, fine. How about this? How about you can pay me back, by meeting me… Here.” He says as he scribbles an address out for her on a napkin. He hands it over, and she takes it with a raised brow, looking at the unfamiliar street name and number.
“You want me to bring your money to an address I’ve never been to before?” And there’s a sparkle in his eyes as he looks down at her.
“I don’t even know you.”
“Sure you do,” he says with a nod, continuing on, “I’m Sukuna, the devilishly handsome coffee shop patron who doubles as your knight in shining armor for today.” She laughs as he grins.
“Okay, well, what makes you think you know me?” And he pretends to think for a minute.
“Well lets see, I’ve seen you around this little shop long enough to know that you’re a woman of your word.”
“How, this is the first time we’ve ever exchanged words.” She scoffs another laugh.
“Oh so you have noticed me around then?” And anything she says next would give away the fact she did notice him around, so her jaw opens and closes silently as she debates on what to say next.
“I-” And she’s saved by the barista interrupting her derailed train of thought.
“Order for Ryomen!” He moves to the pickup bar, taking the two drinks in hand and walking back to her.
“Meet me there tonight, seven fifteen.” And she’s still trying to register what’s even really happening as he hands her the cup.
“What is this like a date?” The words leave her mouth before she can stop them, and she bites her tongue as he chuckles.
“Yeah, something like that. Just come, then consider your drink paid for.” And how could she say no to him?
“Okay sure,” she laughs nervously, “I’ll be there, Sukuna.” And she savors the way his name sounds, rolling off her tongue.
“I’m looking forward to it, enjoy your drink.” He says with a smirk, before leaving her in the coffee shop. Sitting down at a nearby table, she pulls out her phone to look up the address she’d just agreed to meet a semi-total stranger at, and when it loads on her map she’s left even more confused than before – it’s the address to a church.
She’s sitting in the parking lot of the church, staring at the doors in contemplation. She’s not very religious, but the curiosity of finding out just what he could possibly be asking her here for, is why she’s making her way to said doors once the first few groups of people pass. She laughs to herself at the mental image of the church setting her ablaze the second she steps in.
Looking around at everyone sitting down, she’s searching for pink hair, but doesn’t see it. For church on a Tuesday night, the place is almost packed. She barely finds a seat with breathing room from the sea of faces around her.
‘It is only eight past seven though, maybe I’m just early.’ She thinks, trying to calm her rising nerves. What is she even doing here? It was so easy for a handsome stranger to coax her into following him to some random church, surely this was not the stellar survival instinct of someone who doesn’t get serial murdered.
The minutes tick by, and she’s about to just get up and leave, mortification starting to settle at the fact she believed he would even show up, when a familiar voice gathers all attention to the front of the room, and she freezes.
What exactly is she supposed to make of the sight before her? Black tattoos, pink hair, muscular body, covered up in black clothing, complete with the white tab collar. If the building wasn’t going to set her on fire before, it surely would now.
“Good evening, everyone. For those of you that are joining us for the first time tonight, I’m Father Ryomen.”
He’s looking out into the crowd as he speaks, eyes scanning the rows of people for her. When his eyes land on her, her breath catches in her throat, shivers running through her entire body.
‘There is no way in hell that I am horny in church right now.’ But there is a way, and his lip is currently curling up at the corner as he looks at her.
So, she sits for the next hour and a half, listening to the sound of his voice as he goes on through his sermon, not retaining anything except for how smooth his voice sounds, booming off the walls. He gives his closing words, and everyone around her begins to get up. Some filter out, most stay back to chat with him, and she decides to wait until there is no longer a line leading up to him.
The last big group of people finish up, and she’s finally had ample time to process the image before her as she makes her way toward him against the leaving crowd.
“You made it.” He says with a warm smile, and her stomach twists.
“I won’t lie, I thought you were joking still when I realized it was a church. So, a priest, huh?” He laughs with a nod.
“Forgive me, father, if I didn’t take you for the type.” Sukuna smirks down at her, and for a second, she swears there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes. It’s gone just as soon though, and she chalks it up to the lighting.
“Most people don’t, with the tattoos and all. I don’t mind, though. I use it as a way to show it is not our place to cast judgment upon others. But services are over, please, just call me Sukuna.”
“How very religious of you, Sukuna.” She hums.
“And what about you, then?”
“Honestly? I’ve never been very religious.” She shrugs, ‘but I can see why the people at this church would be’.
“And yet I talked you into coming? Surely that’s got to mean something.” He jokes as he rests a hand on her arm for a second.
“It does, if I’m not mistaken, my drink is now paid for in full.”
“Hah.” He fake laughs, and the sound makes her stomach flutter as she looks around.
“I should probably get going though, I think we’re the last two here.” She notes, seeing the fact everyone else has filtered out of the church, before looking back up at him.
“Why don’t you stay with me and lock up, I want to show you something.” Conscious of the fact she still doesn’t really know him, she raises an eyebrow at him, searching his face for any ill-intent.
“It’s nothing bad, I promise. I don’t bite, if that’s what you’re worried about.” And she doesn’t sense anything bad about him, his words seem genuine. There’s something about him though, she can’t quite place. It doesn’t set off alarm bells, but it piqued her interest, making her stomach knot in anticipation.
So, she follows him. Chatting about nothing in particular as he tidies around, and they lock up the church for the night.
“You know, I would have never in my wildest dreams, guessed priest.” He threw her a smile.
“So what did you dream about me then?” Her cheeks burn, and she busies herself with the now very interesting chip in her nail polish as she flounders for a response. But he hooks his finger under her chin, grabbing her attention.
“Hey, I’m kidding.” He says, leaning down to catch her eye, and her heart stops. She’s not sure what she’s doing as she stares back into scarlet eyes, but the air around them changes. Suddenly, it’s thick with desire, so thick she could almost choke on it. And she can feel the gap between them slowly closing- he licks his lips, eyes glancing down at her own for just a second.
“C’mon, we’re not done yet.” He says softly, before pulling away. Her head is swimming, was she just about to kiss the hot coffee shop priest inside the church, no less? But she doesn’t dwell, he’s already moving to the other end of the hall, and she’s quick to catch up.
“It’s usually one of the other two fathers and myself,” he explains as he moves through the church, checking doors and tidying up as he goes. “unfortunately they’re both out this week.”
“And that leaves poor Father Ryomen to take care of the church all by himself?” She teases, and he scoffs.
“They’re unreliable as it is. Though the current company isn’t an undesirable exchange.” He winks at her, and not for the first time tonight, she wonders why he’s called her here.
“Why did you bring me here?”
“To repay your drink from earlier.” She rolls her eyes with a smile.
“That is so not why you dragged a stranger to your church.”
“Why do you think I dragged you here then, hmm?” He whispers, eyes slipping down to her lips again before searching her face.
“And I already told you, we aren’t strangers.” As he says it, it really does feel true. She doesn’t feel out of place next to him, doesn’t feel like she shouldn’t be here, even if this is the first time she’s stepped into a church in years. She takes his shift in conversation and runs with it, not answering his previous question. The thought he’d brought her here for anything other than to listen to him preach was starting to take hold, and she’d rather not read the room wrong and tell him what she was really thinking.
“It’s been so long since I’ve been to church, I thought maybe I’d be struck down the moment I made it inside.” She laughs, stepping past the door he holds open for her into a new room.
“Have you ever done confession before?” He asks, moving to refill the holy water.
“Can’t say that I have, but I get the gist of it.”
“Enlighten me.” He’s glancing at her with a stern look on his face as he caps the bottle.
“You sit on one side, us sinners sit on the other.” and at that he cracks a smile, chuckling.
“Keep going, you’re on the right track.”
“And, they tell them to you and you forgive them on god's behalf.” He shakes his head, still smiling.
“Want to give it a go?” She looks at him with an arched brow, and this time she laughs.
“You did this on purpose didn’t you, paid for my drink to get me into a booth. I’m almost positive that falls under coercion, y’know.”
“Oh c’mon, just try it. Don’t you trust me?” And there it is again, that mischievous glint in his eyes that makes heat pool in her lower stomach. She bites her lip.
“No I trust you just fine Sukuna, I just-” But he’s placing a hand at the small of her back, leading her to the booth at the front of the room.
“What are you doing?”
“Going to wash you from years of sin.” He whispers as he leans down to her ear, and a shiver runs through her.
“You’re joking-”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” And he’s reaching over her to slide the curtain aside, motioning for her to sit.
“I don’t think-”
“Then don’t. Be a good girl, have a seat.” Her stomach flips at his words, and there’s that smirk again. Like he knows exactly what he’s doing to her. What could humoring him hurt? She’s moving, brushing past his reach to sit on the hard wood. He gives her a nod, closing the curtain.
“I’ll be right on the other side, then I’ll talk you through it.” 'I bet you would' and the words are flashing in her mind before she can stop them. Maybe five hours ago, before she knew he’d sworn himself to a life of celibacy and Jesus, his hands all over her had been attainable. But now? This just felt like torture- and yet here she was. Being a good girl for him, and sitting in his booth.
She chews her lip, shifting her thighs together.
“Nervous?” He asks, hearing the noise. She stops moving, shame washing over herself. Not only was she trying to relieve some of the tension between her legs in a church- Sukuna could hear it.
“Y-yeah, something like that.” She laughs, putting her hands to her face.
“You have nothing to worry about. Sinning is innately human, that’s why you come to me.” And did she really come to him? Certainly not for this, but again, here she was. When he realized she wasn’t going to speak up again, he continued.
“Let’s start off with this, just say what you can read off the little plaque there.”
“Sukuna-”
“Aht aht,’ he cuts her off “I’m Father, in the booth, little one.” Heat pools between her legs at his tone. It’s playful but firm, and she can’t help the way she’s biting her lip to not make a sound. She follows his instructions, and- this feels ridiculous, what are they doing exactly? Why is she still doing it?
“What are they?”
“I don’t,” she wracks her brain for an answer. Being here in the first place, premarital sex, lusting for a priest, lusting for said priest while in the church.. The list was long, and she wasn’t sure saying it aloud would make the dull ache she was currently feeling any better.
“Don’t be shy now.” And he says now like he knew something she didn’t, about what was really going on here.
“I’ve watched Twilight.” It’s the first thing to come to her mind that doesn’t elude to the fact she’s going home to stuff a dildo into her aching walls while she thinks about him tonight. The answer catches him off guard, and he chuckles. Turning to the wicker wall dividing them. She can’t physically see him looking at her, but she can feel his eyes on her through the divider.
“Twilight, really?” Her cheeks turn pink, and she looks right back at him.
“Look I read it was like, devil worship according to the church in some article, okay?” He shakes his head with a smile.
“The woman who I met in the coffee shop just doesn’t strike me as the type to watch vampire movies, is all.” He teases.
“Oh like you’ve never watched a single fantasy movie.” He’s quiet now, and she blinks.
“… Not a single one, ever? Isn’t lying a sin, Father?” She challenges.
“We should stick to the topic at hand, sinner.” Her jaw drops and she scoffs in disbelief.
“Okay, well, the next one is that I have tattoos.” She can just imagine the look on his face right now.
“That’s a common one.”
“I’m still surprised they let you, with the tattoos.” She notes, smoothing out her dress over her thighs.
“I can be very convincing, when I need to be.”
“What is that like code for something?”
“My charm helps, even the little old ladies got over them when I flashed a nice smile.”
“I’m sure you’re very popular with all the grandmas.” She laughed.
“Not as popular as Father Gojo, but he’s always been the type to flirt with most things that have legs, regardless of age.” And he has to keep from rolling his eyes or talking any further down on the white haired man.
“I thought flirting was like, forbidden in your religion.”
“Not necessarily forbidden. frown upon, sure, side-eyed possibly.” She could live with side-eyed, hell she could live with frowned upon too. She wasn’t the one that took an oath of never sticking her dick in someone else. But she was the one that decided she wanted a priest of all people, to stick their dick in her. That wasn’t much better for her in the long run though.
“I think that about covers all my transgressions up to this point. Hey, does it still work if I confess to something I eventually will do? I think that’s a much better way to run this whole thing.” Sukuna chuckles, she’s definitely warmed up to being here with him, he can tell in the way she speaks so freely.
“That covers everything huh? Sure you’re not missing anything?”
“Like what?”
“How about, ’I’ve been eyeing up a priest for the past month now’.”
“I- what?” Her voice catches in her throat, jaw dropping and face burning. This visit had just taken a left turn, there was no way he’d just said that.
“Go on, say it. Unless of course, I’m wrong? Just remember, lying is a sin.” She can hear the smirk in his voice, but he doesn’t stop.
“Maybe, ‘I’m so turned on I can’t even sit still’.” Her breath catches in her throat- how could he have known that.
“Or how about, ‘I’ve even made a priest question where his loyalties lie’.” Her body was hot, a fire growing in the pit of her stomach. She takes a shallow breath, mouth feeling dry. She was going to have to answer him at some point, situational whiplash or not. She might as well try to level the playing field while she was at it,
“I’ll own up to mine, but not yours.” He chuckles, and it’s deep, ringing in her ears.
“Perhaps we should switch sides of the booth then.” Listening to a hot priest tell her just how into him she was, wasn’t exactly how she’d imagined tonight going. But when she really thought about it, what other way could tonight have gone?
She heard him shifting on his side, before the curtain was being drawn back. And her handsome, well put together priest, was no longer looking quite so put together anymore.
His hair looked like he’d been running his fingers through it, shoulders moving in sync with his breathing as he gripped the side of the booth.
“Lust is a sin too- but sometimes I just can’t help myself.” She swallowed hard at his words, frozen in place as she stared up at him, red eyes burning into her.
“I can always get on my knees, ask god's forgiveness afterwards.”
“Sukuna…” And she’s watching him slowly sink to the floor before her. Even as she looks down at him, she doesn’t get the feeling that she’s the one in charge of this situation. He moves forward, caging her against the back of the booth, his face inches away.
He looks so different from what she normally sees at the coffee shop; lips twitching up in a smirk as he reaches over to caress her cheek. He certainly doesn’t look anything like a priest, let alone a respectable one. He looks devilish, like he’s been waiting for an opportunity to get her here. And she can’t say it’s not exactly where she wants to be.
He leans closer to pull her into a kiss. The first one is slow, tentative, even though they’re both so clearly worked up. Pulling back to look her in the eyes he searches them, before they both crash their lips together.
“Mmm- wait- wait!” She can barely get the words out against his mouth, pressing her hands against his chest. He pulls back, looking at her in concern that he’d over stepped.
“What about- what if someone sees us?” The concern on her face that someone would catch them doing this, and not the fact that they’re still going to, is so cute of her.
“We locked the doors, didn’t we?” He grins and lets out a breathless laugh as the realization crosses her face. The son of a bitch planned this whole thing. He dips back in to claim her lips again, hands traveling down her sides to her ass, sliding her to the edge of the seat.
“From the moment I first laid eyes on you, I knew you’d be the reason.” He’s pressing kisses along her jaw, down her neck, anywhere he can reach.
“What?” She breaths, not really hearing him as her eyelids flutter. She’s too wrapped up in the whole situation, in how soft but firm his palm feels against her face as she leans into his touch. How wrong but right it feels for him to touch her, even just like this.
“Knew I’d stumble,” His thumb traces her bottom lip, tugging it down, and she opens her mouth instinctively. He’s using the grip on her jaw to turn her face to the side, planting kisses below her ear as she shutters, whining at the feeling.
“It’s like you knew, walking into a church wearing a dress. Walking into my church, wearing that dress. Did you wear it because you caught me staring a little longer when you would?” He’s rough, pressing his lips along her neck, across her chest, sucking, biting his way further down her body.
Her head is spinning. This was wrong, wasn’t it? But the fact it was wrong only turned her on more. She’d never wanted, needed, someone to fuck her so badly before. His hands are everywhere, kneading her chest, pinching at her hardening nipples.
“I asked you a question.” Sukuna’s still pinching at her bud, and she can barely concentrate enough to whimper a ‘yes’.
“Yes what?”
“Yes… Yes… I wore it just for you.” He sucks his teeth with a grin.
"Be a good girl and keep your eyes on me, I want to see them.” He pulls away from her and slips further down, running his hands from her knees up her thighs, pushing her dress up as he does. She’s instinctively parting her legs, letting him ghost his lips up the inside of her thigh. Sukuna presses his thumb against the wet spot on her panties, looking up to see her squirming closer as he does.
“Patients is a virtue, sweetheart.” He warns as he drags the lacy fabric down, discarding it off to the side. She huffs with a pout,
He presses his thumb to her clit, rubbing slow circles as she twitches below him.
He rubs a finger through her slick folds, slowly pushing into her. It's easy, she's so wet, whining for him so needily, and he's already working a second one in.
"Eyes on me, you're going to look at me while I make you cry." She could finish right here, he was so calm yet demanding. Scissoring his fingers inside of her he moved his thumb, dropping his mouth over her clit as he sucked.
Her thighs are fighting to close against him as he slides his fingers into her, tongue moving in slow circles. It's cramped in the booth, but Sukuna still finds the space to use his arms to hold her legs open. She's biting her lip so hard as she watches him, body tense. Her grip on his hair is tight, and she doesn't know if she's trying to pull him closer or push him away as the pleasure builds in her abdomen.
Sukuna doesn't stop as he feels every part of her clench, her body rigid and she takes everything he's giving her. He's sucking as he moves his tongue just a little faster, fingers sliding in and out of her slick cunt as he curls them inside of her. Her back arches, legs shaking as her walls clamp down on his fingers, pulsing as her orgasm washes over her. She's gripping his pink hair, trying as hard as she can to keep her eyes on him as he works her through it.
He's watching her with determination, listening to her cry his name, as his cock strained in his pants. With a few more shallow pumps of his fingers he pulls out and she whines.
"Greed is a sin too, sweetheart." He says as he lifts his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean. She breathes in softly as she watches, the low grown leaving his mouth making her stomach flip.
"Taste divine, I'd keep you here for hours if I could." He moans, pressing his mouth to her glistening cunt as he lapped her clean. She cried out at the over stimulation, hands flying to his head, trying to push him away. He simply takes both her wrists in his hand, holding them at bay.
"Try to stop me again, and it'll be a long night for you in this booth." He warns, pulling back to look at her. A rush floods her body at the thought, and he's leaning up to kiss her again. She's eager to return it, lacing her fingers through the hair at his nape.
Sukuna pulls her up on shaky legs, turning them so he can sit down instead, pulling her to straddle him. He presses her down over his clothed bulge, grinding up into her as he pulls away.
"You gonna be a good girl and have a seat?" She whines, grinding right back down onto him with a nod as she runs her hands down his chest, fumbling with his belt. He rubs his hands up and down her sides as she works, whimpers of frustration falling from her lips as she works on his pants.
"Patients is still a virtue." He hums, kissing the side of her neck. She can feel how thick he is even over his pants, but she's not ready for just how thick he actually is when she works him out of his clothes. Her jaw drops with a gasp as she runs her thumb over his slit, already dripping with precum. Sukuna hisses, hand flying down to grip her own. 
"I said sit." He says, gripping her hips to lift her over him.
"You're so-"
"I'll fit, don't worry." He soothes as he moves her, rubbing his head between her folds a few times before slowly pulling her down. Her hands fly to his shoulders, gripping tight as he slowly stretches her out, making room for himself as he breaks her open over him.
"Sukuna, Sukuna!" She whimpers.
"You're doing so well, look at you." He praises, brushing his thumb over her cheek. She doesn't think she can take anymore, and yet her walls are practically sucking him further in, begging for more. God no one's ever felt like this before, he filled every space inside of her.
And then the back of her thighs are flush against his own, as he slowly rocks into her.
"That wasn't so hard, was it?" He coos, and she shakes her head, mind already hazy from the pleasure.
"No." She whimpers, and rolls her hips with a cry.
"Fuck you're so much." She sobs, body shaking.
"Yeah? But you're going to take it." And he's pulling out, only to slam back up into her. She screams, nails digging into his arms as he holds her. He sets a steady pace, and after the first few thrusts she starts to move too, bouncing herself over him, pushing him further into her tight heat everytime their hips meet.
Sukuna pulls the top of her dress down, sucking a nipple into his mouth. All she can do is moan and grind harder down into him. Looking down between them she watches as he disappears into her, and it should be terrifying, just how much of him there is- yet she's accommodating every thick inch. And then she sees it when he pulls away from her chest- the bulge in her lower abdomen. She takes a shaken breath, and presses down on it.
“Oh my god fuck!” she whines, throwing her head back as her legs shake.
“When I’m this deep in you, the only God you should be crying for is me.” Sukuna growls, fingers digging into her sides to hold her in place as he fucked up into her. She clenched around him at his words and he grinned.
“Oh she liked that, did she?”
“Sukuna-! Fuck I’m gonna cum!” She cried, nails digging into his arms. He drank in the way she looked, jaw dropped in a silent moan, lip quivering. He wasn’t going to last much longer either, with the way her walls fluttered around him, sucking him deeper with every thrust.
“Where should I-”
“Fuck- inside, I don’t care just please-” She was shaking her head, rolling her hips into him as she babbled. Sukuna gripped her chin, forcing her attention on him.
“Say it again, like you mean it. Like you want it.”
“Please Sukuna, finish inside me. Wanna feel you inside me!” Her walls clamped down hard around him as she cried. He lifted a hand to wrap it behind her head, pulling her forehead against his own.
“There it is, take it. Be a good girl and cum for me.” He growled, watching as she came undone before him; jaw dropped in a silent moan as she pulsed around him. Sukuna fucked her through her orgasm, sending him right over the edge into his own. She whined at the feeling of him painting her insides in hot spurts, grinding further into him as they both pant.
It was quiet, aside from their breathing as they came down from the high, lustful haze being left behind. She cleared her throat, realizing they’d have to clean up the mess that was going to drip out of her.
“Well…” She started, beginning to pull back when Sukuna stopped her.
“Where do you think you’re going?” The question takes her aback as she stutters for an answer.
“I just- I thought- the mess…?” He grins lazily up at her, swiping a thumb over her bottom lip.
“Did you really think I brought you here just for one fuck?”
“Technically you brought me here over coffee.” She giggled, leaning into his palm.
“Leave your wallet at home more often then.” He demands, and she swallows hard, gasping as he bucks up into her again.
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Tags: @saiki-enthusiast @alice-smutthoughts @idktbhloley @rezitio @matchat3a @mo0nforme @bleach-your-panties @fateisnotafactor @lov3ly-bunny @antishadow2021 @xo-evangeline @ackachii @tiredravenette @carpioassists @yoongislatinagff @unoriginalidea @i-likebread @squishybabei @emyyy007 @bitchykittenconnoisseur @kokushibosgirl @wishandluck @kimchi-zaks @kyriekurokami @not-brionnne @andic137 @tang3r1n @mammon-s @yuujispinkhair
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bluerthanvelvet444 · 1 month
Text
˚ ♡ ⋆。˚𝓓𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓪𝓭𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓮˚ ♡ ⋆。˚
Kit Walker x fem!reader
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tags: smut!!
warnings: murder, blood, fingering, p in v.
summary: reader and kit get paired up in the kitchen. Kit comforts her anddddd...you can imagine what happens next.
character count: 11k. yes. 11k. lost track of length while writing the plot.
full fic under the cut ↓
➽───────────────❥
May 14th, 1964.
People always said you were meant to be a teacher, that it was your role in the world, since kindness and patience have always been your best qualities. This is how you ended up in that pre-school in Massachusetts full of little sunshines that were absolutely fond of you and saw you as their older sister. It was the best job in the world in your eyes, and you were sure you were going to spend most of your days doing it. If only you knew.
That fateful day you were wearing a trendy but simply cut canary dress, slightly accentuating your waist, perfect for the warm weather of spring. Birds’ faint singing could be heard through the open windows, The kids were sitting around small tables while doing their drawings, and you looked at them lovingly while leaning your back on the chest of drawers that kept the children’s bags.
“Teacher! Teach-!” one of the little boys exclaimed to get your attention, but you cut him off.
“Joseph, I'll be there for you in a second, let me change the song first, alright?” You turned around to put the other vinyl in the player, and the tunes of ‘Hit the road Jack’ started playing. You waited a few seconds before turning around…and that was probably the biggest mistake of your life.
Hit the road Jack-BANG!
You quickly turned around as you heard that loud noise. What you saw next permanently changed your life. A tall man, all dressed in black, was holding a gun in his hands and had just shot one of your little kids. Before you could process anything, the gun was pointed at you, and…BANG! You fell to the ground. The bullet missed you and instead carved a little hole in the wall. You couldn’t feel anything, none of your senses worked, except for hearing.
Don’t you come back, no more-BANG!
no more-BANG!
no more-BANG!
no more-BANG!
Hit the road Jack-BANG!
You woke up by the police violently shaking your body. You were confused, and all around you was red. Red blood everywhere.
➽────❥
At first, the police was doing a fantastic job by trying to identify the killer. You had to do so many interrogations, but you felt like with your descriptions and help, the searching for the murderer was close to an end. The case was on all the TV channels and news, the whole state was thirsty for truth. It was when the police started looking into your past that things started to go wrong. You had a previous “arrest” for gun possession. Nothing too crazy, your uncle gave you one when you first started living alone, you realized your mistake, and you were released after a few days anyways. Then the moms of the poor little angels started to spread rumors about how you were “mean” to kids. That of course wasn’t true, they have always been pretty jealous of a young woman who got along with their children better than them. And you tried to explain that to the police, but they just seemed to get more suspicious. They believed that you randomly went crazy and shot all the kids, that would’ve explained how you were the only one who survived too.
Before you could know it you were charged of murderer, and your life sentence was to spend your whole life in an asylum. As bad as the situation was, you were hopeful that you were going to be treated better in an asylum than jail.
You were wrong. Briarcliff Manor was just another way to say hell. Nuns treated you horribly-except Mary Eunice- god bless that poor soul- and Dr. Arden was a living nightmare. You tried to stay as far as possible from him once you heard all the stories of his victims. People were REALLY crazy there…except one. Her name was Pepper. Sister Jude had introduced you two, insisting that you could bond over “baby murder”. You thought she really did it at first, so you kept distance. Pepper insisted on interacting with you, repeating the word “friend”. You glared at her, spitting words harshly.
“I'm not a murderer like you.”
Pepper frowned and started crying. Now she was saying the word “baby.” It was weird but, you felt sorry for her…something in you told you that she may have been not guilty. She dragged you into the library, then she showed you a magazine with the face of the popular star “Elsa Mars.”
“Mom.” She said, you looked at her confused, then Pepper pointed at the sentence written in the magazine “Elsa used to own a Freakshow before…” it was clear to you then.
“Did she put you here?” You asked. Pepper shook her head and mumbled the word “Sister”.
After a few weeks of befriending her, it was clear to you that Pepper was the living representation of “never judge a book by its cover”.
➽────❥
Two months later.
You were playing-at least trying to play-chess with pepper in the common room.
“Pepper, you can't move two pawns together…only one.”
She laughed and moved another one. Your attention was now brought to a woman who seemed new in that place.
“Uhm…you know what, pepper? You win! Congratulations!” You said a little white lie so you could meet the mysterious woman. Pepper smiled and laughed happily, and started wandering around. You got up and walked towards the new presence. She looked lost, confused, angry but definitely not crazy. You sat in front of her and tried to put on a friendly smile.
“Hi… I noticed you from across the room. Who are you?”
The woman looked at you. You couldn’t help but feel judged and studied by those piercing eyes, in a quiet voice, she replied.
“Lana. Lana Winters.”
➽────❥
Time passed. Every day was the same as the one before, torturing and boring. You bonded with Lana too after you acknowledged her story, and she told you about the secret tunnel and how she planned to escape. The occasion came soon when unexpectedly, one random night, cells opened. You insisted on bringing Pepper with you in the escape attempt, and you three ran for your lives. While running, though, pepper decided to take another path. You stopped and whisper-yelled at her to come back, but she didn't listen to you. As soon as Lana noticed you stopping, she dragged you with her, telling you to not waste time, and while you were running, Kit walker caught up with you two. You didn’t know much about him, so you didn't really mind him trying to escape too, but apparently Lana did. You heard her yelling.
“HELP! He’s escaping! The killer is escaping!”
You tried to shush her, but before you knew it, you were captured.
You and kit were then bent over Sister Jude’s desk, while she praised Lana and allowed her to choose the cane you were going to be punished with. You were surprised when Kit took the blame on himself, letting you free and gaining more lashes for himself.
➽────❥
After a few days, you found yourself paired up with Kit on kitchen chores. You stood there in silence, lost in your thoughts while kit prepared the dough.
“You okay over there, suga’? You haven’t said a word.” You were brought back to reality at the sound of his deep voice and smooth accent. You gulped.
“Yeah… I-I’m fine. Just thinking…” You heard him sigh.
“It’s because of what they say about me…ain’t that right? I’m many things, darlin’, but I’m not a murderer. So, don’t be scared.”
You looked at him furrowing your brows and shook your head.
“No…it’s not because of that- I don’t think you’re a killer- I just… I’m just worried. Worried about Pepper. She’s nowhere to be found, a-and I feel guilty. So guilty. I should’ve followed her and brought her back.”
He chuckled lightheartedly.
“Oh, don’t say that, suga’. I’m sure she’s fine. She’s probably out there livin’ her best life.”
You sighed and replied nervously.
“You and I both know that isn’t true. She’s wearing a fucking gown, and her looks don’t help either. If she actually managed to get out, she’s already got caught.” You looked down, fidgeting with your fingers. You jumped slightly when you felt his hands touching your shoulders. He gently caressed your arm from behind and spoke with a kind tone.
“Hey-hey- calm down, suga’. Whatever happened to Pepper, it’s not your fault. Don’t be so harsh with yourself. You tried to stop her, there was nothin’ else you could do.”
You sighed and leaned into his gentle touch.
“I just hope she’s fine. She’s an innocent soul…I could never live with it if something bad happened to her.”
He took your hands in his.
“You don’t belong here. In Briarcliff.”
You sighed and let yourself relax in his arms. He whispered in your ear.
“You need a distraction, suga’.”
you then felt his cold hand on your exposed inner thigh. You looked up at him, your cheeks slowly turning red.
“Shhh… Just relax. It’ll feel good, I promise.”
You nodded slowly and looked down as his fingers made their way to your exposed folds under your gown. He sighed as he ran a finger over your slit, and peppered gentle kisses on the side of your face. He started slowly circling your clit. His big hands felt like heaven on you and you couldn’t help but buckle your hips towards his hand, sweetly whining for more. He flashed you with a tender smile and pressed a sweet kiss on your lips. His fingers shifted position, so his thumb was now grazing your clit while one of his digits made its way to your entrance, gently pushing in. You gasped and let out a soft moan, muffled by his mouth making contact with yours. He inserted another finger in, stretching you and slowly thrusting inside.
“Ah… Faster Kit…please…” you whined softly.
“Whatever you say, suga’.”
He started moving his fingers faster, making your back arch as he hit that sweet spot perfectly. He kept going until he felt your whines grow louder, and right before you could cum, he suddenly stopped and pulled his fingers out.
“mhhhph….w-why did you stop?”
He chuckled and have you a loving kiss on your lips.
“I wanna be inside of you…suga’…is that okay, mh?”
You nodded eagerly, and he picked you up to set you on the counter. He grabbed your waist with his veiny hands and leaned in to crush your lips together. His tongue swirled around yours as you sloppily made out. You pulled your lips away from his and whispered.
“w-what if they catch us?”
“They won’t. I’ll be quick, love.”
He lifted your gown once again and settled between your legs. He groaned as he rushed to lift his gown, and he hissed while lining up your entrance with his needy cock. He immediately began pounding in your poor cunt. His thrusts were fast and sloppy. As you whined for the sudden roughness, he whispered right next to your ear in a hoarse voice.
“Sorry suga’. Been too long since I've touched a woman.”
You moaned as your legs clung to his body, and you had to adjust to the new position. Not long after, between dough and adrenaline for the fear of being caught, he sped up his thrusts until you came with a loud moan that he tried to muffle with his hand. At the feeling of your cunt clenching around him, he cummed inside you right away with a deep groan. You panted for a few seconds before getting off the counter and regaining your decency. He pressed a loving kiss on your lips and gently caressed your hair. You allowed yourself to melt in his embrace, and while thinking about everything that had happened so far, a sudden thought came to your mind.
“Kit…why did you stand up for me when Sister Jude wanted to punish us?”
He put his chin on your head, and with a sweet smile plastered on his face, he spoke.
“I followed your case on the TV before gettin’ locked up' here. I always thought ya were innocent…”
He chuckled and pressed gently his lips on your hair.
“…and cute.”
➽───────────────❥
a/n: aaaahhh!!! this is my first smut. I'm really proud of this one. lemme know if you like it!!!🧡🧡
join my taglist!!
all rights reserved!!
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bonny-kookoo · 7 months
Text
Jungkook
𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 | Wake up call
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Sometimes you only really cherish things when they're taken away from you.
Tags/Warnings: Alien!Jungkook, Human!Reader, dystopian AU, space/Sci-fi/cyberpunk-esque, Enemies to lovers, Angst, Violence, Drama, romance, adult, angst, potentially triggering content, Hurt and comfort, JKs dad, major injury, angst, comfort, fluff
Length: 4.3k words
There is no taglist for this fic.
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It's pitch-black when you wake up, and it takes you a moment to realize that it's simply your eyes needing to adjust to the lack of light.
You instantly sit up in Jungkook's main resting spot, only to realize he's missing- instead standing at the main control screen, tapping away with his eyes reflecting the light of the screen in front of him. At a call of his name however, his face snaps towards you, the alien hybrid instantly walking towards you to cover your shoulders with a heavy blanket, before he sits down in the nest with you, clearly in a fight-or-flight state. "What's wrong?" You ask, and your sleepy voice and clearly drowsy state make him feel awfully protective over you-
and that's only partially due to his whole hormonal fiasco going on.
"We're passing a re-fueling station." He tells you, hushed and low in tone. "But the scanners show way too many ships in the area, so I'm trying to move us around." He offers as an explanation, unknowingly sitting closer to you, hands searching for any sort of physical contact with you before he just throws his pride out the window and moves to have you sit on his lap instead.
"Maybe it's just crowded?" You wonder, unsure why this is worrying him so much. But he shakes his head.
"Something's off." He simply denies, eyes focused on the large windows in the front of the ship, offering a wide view of whatever's going on in front and frontal sides- one of those windows being the one you're currently sleeping at. "I don't trust this." He shakes his head, arms slowly wrapping around you as he waits for the autopilot to steer the ship safely past the refueling station.
"Maybe it's.. you know?" You wonder, looking up at him- but he shakes his head.
"I'm.. I would've-" He sighs. "No one can really help me with my instincts because I am.. currently the only human-Bolku hybrid around, so not even Jin's mother can really.. help me understand what's going on with me." He shrugs, holding you in a relaxed, but almost clingy way. "I've simply decided to just.. take your words to heart, you could say." He tells you.
"What do you mean?" You ask, leaning into him a bit as the screen blinks with something- Jungkook looking once, before he puts his attention back onto you, apparently not alarmed by whatever message just popped up.
"You said the only life I can control is mine." He reminds you. "So I'll just.. let whatever I'm feeling run it's course, and learn to control my life instead of trying to just.. hiding in a vacuum." He explains, large ship coming into view in the distance, a few other's as well in close proximity. This catches Jungkook's attention, as he moves his body into a straighter position to properly catch a glance at the ID parts of the ships- required by law. It's typically a flag of the respective planet or organization, combined with a letter-number Identification, similar to a license plate back on earth.
And suddenly, Jungkook tenses up, eyes focused solely on one particular ship it seems like, as it passes by slowly. You're not sure what's wrong, when there's another warning tone, this time making Jungkook growl a little to himself as he gets up to walk towards the control console, tapping away.
He's scanning everything back and forth before he curses, slamming his hands onto the control board, jaw clenched, before he puts some different commands in, ship shifting, starting to steer in a very specific manner that makes the generators underneath your floor rumble in a new rhythm.
"I thought we were skipping this one?" You wonder, but Jungkook grimly shakes his head.
"We can't." He sighs. "I tend to forget that.. this ship is so old." He mumbles, clearly upset.
"It'll be fine." You try and reassure- and he looks at you for a good moment, before he grimly nods to himself.
Hoping that'll be the case.
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Jungkook is usually very much at ease when it comes to situations like these. He clearly knows his way around and is aware of how to act and what not to do in certain situations- year long experience giving him the necessary confidence to properly keep his job going.
But this time, he's on edge- never letting you out of sight, and even having checked multiple times before leaving the ship that the tracker on your new collar works perfectly just in case. He's also made you wear some of his clothes- says it's got something to do with other alien species' staying away from you if you smell like him, and in your eyes, it makes sense. Maybe his whole hormone-issue is just making him a little overprotective.
You understand that, somewhat. And you have to admit that his clothes are very comfortable to wear.
But something you also notice, for the first time, is what he's warned you about in your room, days ago. How everyone who knows his father will look at you with a certain sense of judgement- and this time, it seems like almost everyone seems to know him, because the looks are everywhere. It doesn't bother you too much- but you can feel with the way Jungkook's hand tightens around yours that it does affect him.
"Can we go eat something while the ship refuels?" You wonder, tugging on his hand to gain his attention, trying to pull his mind away from the admittedly tense atmosphere around you. He nods after a moment, nodding towards the employees currently attaching the giant tubes to the ship, before he walks away and towards the food section, numerous different small restaurants cooking quickly for customers sitting and standing close by.
"What do you want to eat?" He asks you, who's already scanning the pictures as best as you can- still not very good at deciphering the intergalactic standard writing. You should really learn it sooner rather than later- it's got to be annoying to read everything to you, after all.
"Uh.. can I eat this?" You ask him, pointing to a specific food covered in crispy fried dough- not because he pays for it, but because he also knows what humans can and can't eat.
Now this fact makes finally sense to you- because as someone who's partially human, Jungkook has to look out for certain foods as to not upset his stomach. For you, the consequences are much more severe, however, so he instead walks up to the counter to ask, just to make sure. The man behind, an alien with scars all over his face as if burned at some point, looks down at you, then at him, before he scoffs.
"She ain't gonna die from it." He says, but Jungkook is clearly not satisfied with an answer like that.
"I asked if it's safe to consume, not if she's gonna die from it." He challenges almost annoyed, a few close standing customers already clearly interested in the small scene.
"And I told you what I know. I don't usually have to feed 'em." The man replies, slamming down his large cleaver into the wooden counter in front of him, cutting a piece of meat in half.
"She can eat it just fine." A voice chimes up, deep and a little scratchy- and multiple things happen all at once.
First, people start to make room, averting their gazes as if an accident just occurred, and someone blasted their guts all over the place.
Almost at the same time, Jungkook pulls you close to him, shielding you in a way from whomever just talked behind you, body hiding you away like he needs to protect you from something.
And then, you poke your head around a little, catching a glimpse of the man.
He's clearly a Bolku with his tall build, even a good hand or two taller than Jungkook, body bulky and muscular, though the face shows the time this man has been alive. There's horns on his head curving backwards, and his eyes are what's the most prominent about him- small, halfway opened, but sharp in their gaze and a deep orange-y red, the color of pure confidence.
A shiver runs down your spine when you realize the small similarities you recognize however. This has to be Jungkook's father.
"Make two servings. I'll pay." The man orders, and the cook eagerly occupies himself with his job to flee the scene, quietly preparing the food. "Snatched a taste of human love, haven't you?" He laughs to himself, now having caught you peeking around Jungkook's arm, his eyes staring you down so much that you can feel your skin crawl.
"We're leaving." Jungkook mumbles to you over his shoulder, hand holding yours as his father chuckles lowly.
"Already? Your ship is barely halfway fueled." He says, sitting down at a table. "And the poor little thing must be hungry too. Aren't you?" He adresses you, but Jungkook hisses back towards you.
"Don't talk to him." He commands, and you nod, before you lean up towards him to speak closer into his ear.
"I'm not that hungry." You reassure him, and he nods, moving to walk away with you-
when suddenly, out of nowhere, someone tugs you away from Jungkook's hand, collar being pulled so roughly it causes you to violently cough from your throat being pushed together forcefully.
Jungkook shouts, but he's held back as well- whoever has you in their grip is bringing you closer to Jungkook's father, who inspects you from his sitting position. "Pretty thing." He comments, using his cane to tap at your thighs. "Healthy body. I wouldn't be able to resist either." He jokes, making who you assume to be his crewmembers laugh while you hold onto the front of your collar to help yourself breathe. "Ah, your mother needed one of those too. They always try and run off, don't they?" He comments, making Jungkook struggle.
You've never seen Jungkook's eyes shine in such a violent shade of red- almost as if his eyes are going to spout flames any second.
"I assume she's not for sale?" He wonders towards his son, who spits onto the ground right in front of his father's shoes, probably as a non-verbal answer. "Figured." The man says, pulling back his boot before he looks at you. "I'll be taking her anyways."
"She's registered under my name!" Jungkook argues. "I'll be sending out a patrol the minute you have to leave-" He argues, and his father laughs loudly.
"Your name means nothing in this system!" He barks back. "You have no worth, you bastard. Be happy I'll let you leave once your trash-pile of a ship is refueled." He warns.
You're starting to become tired fighting against the strong hold of whomever got their hands on you- causing your to breath harder and harder, oxygen not reaching your brain as well, causing you to become dizzy- and it's something Jungkook notices, because of course he does.
And another thing he realizes is that he knows you're in distress long before he spots the blinking red light of your collar, signaling something wrong with your vital signs.
And before you can do anything else, the edges of your eyesight begin to darken like a vignette filter, Jungkook's terrified gaze the only thing you can make out before you pass out, becoming limp in the hands of whoever is holding you.
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You're glaring at the man in front of you, refusing to eat anything that's offered.
He's already needed a large patch on his hand to cover up the aggressive bite you placed there hours prior after he tried to touch you- but he's intelligent enough to not try it again, it seems like. He thinks you're easy prey, probably- and that's what you used to be, and what you would've been if he'd been the one to find you back then.
But you belong to Jungkook- and Jungkook made you want to fight for your life, just to get back to him.
"Do you even know who he is?" The man in front of you speaks, trying to intimidate you with his gaze, but, for some reason you're not sure of, it doesn't work. "He'll abandon you the moment he finds a proper partner to mate with." He scoffs, and you just keep staring at him.
You don't believe anything this man is spewing- in fact, you're not even properly listening, rather trying to think hard of a way to escape this ship- entire layout foreign to you, since you didn't wake up until you were already on the ship. The only thing you know is that the entire interior intimidates you with it's perfect polished metal walls- something about Jungkook's old and somewhat worn down rooms and halls just makes you feel at home.
Or maybe it just feels like that because you fell in love on this ship.
So the minute you're left alone again after he insults you in Bolku language you don't understand, your brain is running at lightspeed.
Vents are out of reach, but maybe if you could push some of the furniture you could reach it- but someone might hear, and catch you in the act, making this whole plan incredibly dangerous. It's risk against reward after all- you're no use to anyone if you're dead. So you look around once more, checking out everything-
when you spot another vent, small but definitely in better reach than anything else. And the best thing is that once you're in there, there's no way anybody can reach out or crawl in behind you. The only issue?
You don't know where it leads. And from looking over Jungkook's shoulder at the general layout of his ship, you know that some vents lead straight into machines- and you're honestly not ready to be boiled alive.
Your decision however falls onto all or nothing- so you undo your collar at the emergency clip Jungkook had shown you, in case they're tracking you that way, before you crawl under the bed where the vent is, cover easy to remove as you crawl inside. It's tight, not much room and definitely not enough space to turn around now, as you move slowly, having left your shoes behind so that your socked feet don't make too much sound.
On the way, you can spot some vents you have to crawl over slowly, showing you numerous rooms of the ship. A kitchen, another prep room it looks like, multiple storage spaces, and then-
bright lights, clearly leading outside.
You crawl faster the moment you hear machines starting, finally able to see the drop-
and it's not only high up, but right next to a small engine that's clearly about to start if the radiating heat and slowly glowing metal were anything to go by. So either way- you're gonna get cooked alive, or you'll break your spine falling down.
You've got nothing to lose.
Safe to say you do end up cracking something- but the adrenaline is enough to push you through the pain, legs running faster than you ever thought you could as you make your way through the ship station, searching frantically for anything familiar so you can find your way back to Jungkook. If his father stayed true to his word, he would be allowed to leave- and you don't know how long you were out for, so you might already be too late.
Or would he wait for you?
You're searching around frantically when you can spot the familiar ship- large cargo door slowly closing, metal wall lifting, as you shout Jungkook's name as loud as you can- even though you just know he probably can't hear you.
You don't know how you manage even after tripping painfully so, but you reach the lifting cargo door just in time to jump up and lift yourself in-
when you feel warms in the back of your shoulder, something almost crawling down your back, the same feeling in another spot lower on your back, and in the back and front of your leg. It takes a good moment for you to slowly calm down, ship's door closing behind you, as the engines start, before you realize what's happening.
You've been shot by some sort of weapon, multiple times. And the feeling of something crawling, was simply your own blood.
It's ironic how you find yourself seeking at least some sort of warmth yet again under the blue plastic tarp- similar to how you first snuck onto this ship. But the tables have turned- and now, it seems like you'll find your end here too, between all the cargo and dust and by now familiar scents and sounds.
It could be worse.
Just like the first time, the large metal door hisses as it opens loudly, and once again just like the first time, you hear boots on the floor. But this time, you're not scared- this time you know who it is, and you find comfort in that.
Tarps are lifted. Cargo is inspected.
And then, the dark blue one you're hiding under is pulled back- but this time, he's not holding a gun, or a grim expression, or anything alike.
This time, he drops harshly to his knees as he pulls you close to him, holding you, uncaring of your blood staining his clothes.
This time, he wants you to stay.
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He's got you in his nest, while he steers the ship angrily, intercom blasting the sound of his father trying to get through his mind. But Jungkook is filled with nothing but rage and that need to finally break free from the shackles this man had put him in all his life.
"I saw her drop, kid." He laughs. "Stop trying to chase ghosts, you'll kill yourself too trying to move that thing any faster!" He jokes, spits at the old ship Jungkook has owned for years now. But what he doesn't know, is that sometimes, newer isn't better. Because this is a ship build during the third interstellar war-
this thing is meant to last.
And withstand.
So Jungkook lifts his face, eyes locking with the one's of his father moments before he lets it happen-
ramming right into the smaller jet ship painted white, causing sure damage to his own ship- but it's clear that whatever happened to his own, is nothing compared to the large gashes and dents in the exterior, communication cutting off as he watches the smaller white ship slowly lose engine after engine, fuel leaking without any gravity into the galaxy, fires burning out, until everything is quiet-
the wreck left behind him, just like his past.
Jungkook doesn't even check if the autopilot is really properly working- he only cares for you now, who's still breathing shallowly in the nest he slept in with you before, bandages already letting your blood seep through. He's not trained enough in human health to properly help you- he's unequipped as well, which just makes this all the more worse.
He can't help you. No matter how bad he wants to.
All he can do is wipe the sweat off your forehead before he holds you close again, curling up around your body, trying to hide you away from everything. When he heard you call, it felt odd- like a sound only in his thoughts, not clear, but definitely present. He didn't know at first what had happened- only when the security check signed to him that something was wrong in the cargo room down in the bowel of the spaceship did he check-
finding you yet again, just like the first time.
But this time, he's holding you in fear. He's not sure if he can even do anything if he reaches a destination- human health is something not everyone has enough knowledge in, and even if that's the case, the chances of finding a still practicing doctor for you are slim to none at the moment.
It's so horribly unfair.
He finally accepted not only himself but you- and now he's gonna have to watch you leave after all, the world taking yet another thing away from him, as if his childhood and adolescence wasn't enough. No- apparently his future is on the menu next, to be devoured with every breath you struggle to take.
The intercom rings, and Jungkook doesn't care for it- simply swipes his hand over the panel near the window to accept it, Yoongis surprised voice ringing out- tone changing quickly as he notices the blurred scene of Jungkook and you in the corner, transmission a little choppy due to the damage to the ship.
"I received an emergency signal- are you there?" He asks with urgency, and Jungkook just hums a reply. "Jungkook, what happened?" He worries, ship slowly coming into view of the large side windows, light blue paint flaking off the metal casing of the small ship.
"We ran into him." Jungkook mumbles, running his hand over your head in a soft manner, relishing in your warmth for as long as it's there. "He tried to take her- she snuck out.. got in last minute." He explains. Yoongi exhales a breath.
"Thank god-" He starts, but Jungkook wasn't finished.
"They shot her." He hums, voice emotionless, eyes a pale grey. "Now she's dying." He chuckles softly, looking down at you- you look like you're merely sleeping, resting against his body. "He's taking everything from me even past his lifetime." He scoffs.
"I'm tugging your ship to the nearest outpost- it's Aon, we should make it in less than half an hour max." Yoongi urges, saying something to what Jungkook assumes must be his human partner. "We have medical supplies on board. Is she still bleeding?"
No answer. Jungkook fails to see the point of one.
"Jungkook!" Yoongi barks. "Did you at least wrap her wounds? Anything?" He tries to find out, but the Bolku hybrid stays quiet- too mesmerized by sight of your eyes moving behind your closed lids. Your lashes are long. Soft. How come he's never noticed that? "Jungkook you gotta give me something to work with!" Yoongi whines almost, successfully connecting to Jungkook's autopilot, initiating the system to follow Yoongi's ship that's not in front.
Jungkook sighs. "I wrapped her up.. the best I can." He shrugs. "Now I'm letting her sleep."
Yoongi sighs. "What was she even shot with?" He wants to know, but Jungkook doesn't know. "Alright, I guess that's the only info I'll get out of you at this point." He mumbles to himself, before he cuts the intercom for the moment, quietly leading the ship to Aon- a small outpost set on a large meteorite, meant for simple refueling of smaller ships and temporary stay for some stranded people who didn't make it to the next bigger planet.
It's not much- but it'll do.
The only problem arises when Yoongi enters the ship and wants to look at you together with a doctor he'd found on Aon- because Jungkook just won't let anybody close to you, mind having slipped entirely now in the prospect of you being in such distress. It takes several people to remove the rather feral human hybrid from you, his eyes basically scanning every little move anyone makes as they check on you, everyone's nerves slowly relaxing. "Humans are truly odd in those things." Someone says, as he uses all four of his arms to properly put some bandages and patches onto your wounds. "They just sleep it off it seems like." He laughs, finishing up the patch on your back before he leaves you alone- and nods to the people holding Jungkook to let him go.
He immediately rushes back to you, tugging you closer, holding you tightly as you whine a bit in complain in your sleep, turning over to properly hold onto him as well.
"She'll be fine." Yoongi reassures, much to Jungkook's eyes turning round with wonder at that promise. "Humans are.. weird when it comes to ion guns." He shrugs. "It's just mostly tissue damage, some scratches here and there- but she'll literally sleep it off, like he said. She'll be fine- she just needs rest." He offers, causing a reaction he's not seen in years from the younger alien.
He cries, bitterly so-
but this time, it's tears of relief and happiness.
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"No no no no- come here." He scolds, pulling you close again to have you sit down on his lap at the main control console.
Jungkook is not letting you do anything whatsoever, even though your wounds are healing well. He's also become, while still moody as ever, incredibly touchy. As if that scare had flipped a switch and showed him how quickly you could be taken away from him again, it seems like he's decided that there's really no reason anymore to take things slow or be afraid of anything.
"Hey Jungkook?" You wonder, leaning your head back against his shoulder to look at him. He hums, not looking away from the control screen in front of him, and you giggle, still a little sleepy and low on energy due to all the medication you're taking. "I like you." You say, and this time, he chuckles-
turning his head to press a kiss against your cheek-
because he finally understands what you're trying to tell him.
He finally gets it.
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