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#meant as a joke obvi
imagine-darksiders · 1 month
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Hello! Just a curious thought, but have you ever hear about Warframe? There might be a few characters I think you’d like if you haven’t!
The name ‘warframe’ has so entrenched itself into my mind because of relentless YouTube ads and sponsors that if it’s so much as mentioned, I immediately go into a violent rampage like I’m a sleeper agent who’s kill code just got activated.
Sorry, I cannot look at that game like I can’t hear the words ‘Hello Fresh’ or ‘Nord VPN’ without burying my teeth into my own arm.
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Gimme that mistletoe
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littlechillis · 1 year
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tagged by @whorgerussell to post the first 9 pictures from pinterest 🥰
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tagging @trentskis @colorsofmyseason @comicalwenger @regretfullyagooner @russellwestbrook (no pressure ofc 🫶🫶)
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lyricsandpapers · 6 months
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I think i’ll miss you forever
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eagerbby · 2 years
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ʙᴏᴏ? - ᴇ.ᴍ
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pairing| Eddie Munson x female reader
synopsis| It was supposed to be a joke, payback, revenge, until it spiraled completely out of control. Just your luck.
an| inspired by the prompt "I hid in your closet to scare you as a joke but when you came in you started masturbating and I can't just get up and leave but if I get caught in your closet you'll think I'm a pervert I regret my life choices" from here. my brainrot is thriving.
warnings| 3k, masturbating (m), reader being a perv obvi, illusions to sex, 18+ folks
part 2
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It escalated quickly; too quickly to even process what you were doing, and what you were doing wasn’t even a good idea to begin with, but it was the only thing you could think of. 
The Hellfire Club was currently in the midst of a rather heated prank war, started of course by their relentless leader himself, and you had slowly been dragged into the cruel web he had begun to weave three weeks ago. 
It was annoying at first, Eddie jump scaring you every chance he could. Jumping out from behind the cafeteria doors, slamming his hand against the locker next to yours while you were in deep thought digging through your own locker, or four days ago when he hid in the backseat of your car only to reveal himself once you’d hit five over the speed limit on the main road home; you almost crashed your car that day because of him. 
He was a menace and although the other guys had it much worse than you, Eddie seemed to take more pleasure from simply spooking you. But at least it wasn’t shaving cream in your book bag like poor Gareth or when he stole the chains off Mike and Dustin’s bikes before school ended leaving them stranded -although he did give them a ride home after they got down and praised King Eddie- in hindsight you were getting off pretty easy in comparison.
But still, that last prank got to you, the seriousness of almost wrecking had scared you shitless. Enough that you had to pull over on the side of the road, trying not to break down in front of him. He had felt bad, you could see it on his face as he tumbled into the front seat and begged you to not cry, but you were just so mad you kicked him out of your car and drove off.
That’s how your little plan came to fruition. You skipped your last period just to make sure you’d beat him to his cozy little trailer on the outskirts of town, greeting his uncle Wayne as you ducked under his arm and into the living room. 
“Whatcha doin’, kiddo?” He asked, blue eyes narrowed in amusement. 
“Gonna scare the shit outta your devious little shit of a nephew.” You say simply as you fill a glass with cold water from the tap. 
Wayne catches the wild glint in your eye, the mirror image of the one his nephew harbors in his own big brown ones. The older man could only shake his head, muted blue eyes dancing with amusement as he said..
“Give him hell, dollface.” Before he’s headed down the porch steps to his beat up Chevy truck. 
Which brings you to right now, stuffed tight in Eddie’s messy closet, the fake fur of his creepy Alf costume tickling the back of your neck, your heart thudding loudly in your chest when you finally hear the loud wail of metal and the screeching of tires against gravel. 
There isn’t much to your plan here other than jump out and make him scream. Make him regret fucking with you so hard the past three weeks. You’ve been giving him the cold shoulder since you both almost died -he’s lucky you had just got your brakes changed, a week earlier and you both would have been seriously hurt- which meant he wouldn’t be expecting your revenge, instead thinking you were still pissed. Which you kinda were, but he didn’t make it easy. He’d been groveling nonstop since it happened, bringing you little presents in hopes you’d forgive him, and you had but you still wanted revenge.
You hear him as he bounds up the steps, humming to himself, he slings the front door open followed by the sound of the lock clicking in place. Your fingers tremble in anticipation, adrenaline bleeding heavily from your pores. It’s unbearably stuffy in his little closet, sweat beading on your forehead and between your breasts, and the only light comes from a crack in the sliding door giving you a full view of his mirror. You can see him in its reflection, coming down the hall with his wild hair bouncing around his shoulders, eyes locked onto the cassette in his hands. 
He enters his cramped bedroom and goes straight to his tape deck, the pink tip of his tongue trapped between plush lips as he stuffs the tape in and hits play, surprisingly turning the sound to a reasonable volume. As the music softly spills from the speakers he shrugs out of his denim vest and jacket combo, pulling his black tattered Iron Maiden shirt with the sleeves haphazardly cut off over his head. As he tosses it to the floor, the lyrics of the song he’s skipped to floods your ears. You know this song, love this song, fuck, you showed him this song. He’s humming along to it as he kicks off his sneakers, shimmies out of his black ripped jeans, calloused fingertips gliding gently down his soft tummy into the waistband of his boxers. 
Okay, what the fuck. You clamp your eyes shut before you can see too much. This is absolutely, positively, not part of your plan. His bed springs groan as the lyrics echo around his room and you sit in his closet with your hands over your eyes trying not to breathe too loud. 
Let's get away, just for one day,
Let me see you stripped down to the bone.
It was your Depeche Mode cassette, the one you’d lost a couple weeks ago and tore your room and car apart in a frenzy to find. You never did and now you know why; because you dear friend Eddie had stolen it.
Fuck this, you think to yourself as you raise off your feet in the cramped space. You’re about to bust out, ask him why he sat there and listened to you whine for days about your missing tape knowing full well he had it, when you hear something that makes your body freeze. 
It’s soft, gentle as a breeze, but loud enough to still hear over the song playing from his speakers. A moan, shaky and almost desperate, and you can’t help when you peek out the slit of the door and catch sight of him in the mirror. Your mouth goes dry, eyes so wide they must be bugging out of your head, you’re looking into a mirror except you can’t see yourself, no, but you can see him and the sight is fucking beautiful. 
Eddie’s laid out long ways across his bed, bare feet planted on the shag carpet just a couple feet from your hiding spot in the closet, his eyes are closed and his fist is wrapped tightly around the head of his cock. 
“O-oh f-fuuck.” He whines, thumb dragging across his weeping slit, smearing the precum that beads there across the red mushroom head of his rather thick cock. Jesus, you had shamefully imagined what he was packing under those tight pants he always wore, usually alone at night in your bed, but never did you think you’d actually see it. Especially not like this. 
Oh, this is wrong, so fucking wrong. You shouldn’t be here right now watching him thrust up slowly into his cock, shouldn’t lick your lips as he roams his hands over his bare chest, his fingers tweaking a nipple making his cock visibly twitch at the sensation. You shouldn’t be wet between your legs, squeezing your thighs together as best you can without moving much or making any noise. This is perverted, sick and twisted, a complete violation of Eddie’s privacy, but what are you supposed to do? You should have jumped out as soon as he came in, should have stopped him as soon as he got his shirt off, but instead you stayed frozen in place among Eddie’s clothes and now it was too late. You couldn’t just cover your eyes and leave, no that’d be horrifying for the both of you. Which left only one option; wait for him to finish and hope to a God you weren’t sure you believed in that he leaves right after. 
But that’s also a problem because you can’t not hear the pretty moans that fall from his lips. Can’t ignore the way the bed frame creaks as his hips pick up a steady pace. Can’t stop looking into that stupid fucking mirror and biting your lip at the sight of him completely lost in his pleasure. 
You are so going to hell.
“Oh, fuck, baby. J-just like that.” 
Your pussy floods at just the mere sound of his voice, clouded with lust and his impending orgasm. You can see how close he is, his tummy flexing hard as his hand fucks his cock faster. He isn’t gentle with himself, not like before, fucking his fist with fast sloppy thrusts of his hips as he presses his head back into his ruffled sheets. You can’t peel your eyes from him, can’t stop the constant squeeze of your thighs as your body begs for some kind of friction. And you definitely can’t stop the looming thought that if you get caught Eddie will probably never talk to you again. 
You wouldn’t blame him. 
There’s a new song playing but you can’t really hear it, aren’t even paying attention, not when Eddie shifts up to lean on one elbow to watch himself work. He gasps at a rather rough flick of his wrist, biting his lip as his eyes flutter closed, his long black lashes dancing across his pale skin. You’re trying so hard to stay quiet, watching intently through the mirror. 
You watched porn before but this, this was better than anything you’ve ever seen, and if you weren’t such a coward -and if you weren’t hiding in his fucking closet- you’d fall to your knees in front of him. Beg him to come all over your face, down your throat, in your tight pussy. You’d find your filthiest words, bat your eyes all innocent, drag your nails over his hairy thighs, just to see him cum. To watch his face scrunch up and mouth fall slack as he painted you all pretty in his hot seed. 
Yeah, if you didn’t get caught -and probably still if you did- you were so using the sight of your best friend fucking his fist to get off later. 
Maybe you were a pervert after all. 
Eddie’s moans are getting louder, hot breathy noises falling from his bitten lips, he’s visibly having a hard time keeping his eyes open, obviously lost in whatever scenario he is conjuring up behind his eyes. Your hands were gripping the fabric of your skirt as tight as you can, trying your best to restrain from shoving your hand underneath and thrusting your finger deep inside your tight, wanting, hole. His fingers would feel so much better, long and thin, you know they must be talented considering how good he is with a guitar. All this thinking has your chest heaving, hands shaking, breathing slowly in and out of your nose. You can feel your willpower slipping away, gone without a trace, you need him to hurry up. There’s no way you’re gonna be able to handle this much longer. 
But then Eddie says something so out of left field, so far from anything you’ve ever heard come from his mouth, that your brain completely malfunctions. 
“Just like that, y/n. I wanna be inside you so bad, baby.” It’s all a tangled whine, your name a quivered pant, and you gasp so loudly you make yourself jump, backing up deep into his closet as you watch his head spring up. 
Silence. Horrible, retched, silence as you cover your mouth with a shaky hand and close your now watery eyes. He heard you, you know it, and now all the heat and blood have left your aching core to wash over the apples of your cheeks. Hot like lava, the embarrassment of being caught doing something so wrong makes your eyes water. 
He’s never gonna speak to you again. 
There’s a click as the tape deck stops and then the drag of his closet door sliding open and you want to drop dead where you stand. 
“Y/n” Eddie asks, all quiet and gravelly, arousal still heavy in his throat. You can’t look at him, can’t dare raise your eyes away from your feet. 
“Boo?” Out of all the things you wanted to say, that was the only word to come out, soft as a whisper.
“W-What are you doing?” Good question, you think. What the fuck are you doing? 
“It’s not what you think.” You say quickly with a dark humorless chuckle, eyes bouncing to his before you completely fucking regret it and lower them back to the floor. He looks too good right now with his pupils blown wide and a sheen of sweat on his bewildered face. “I was go-gonna get you back for scaring me so much, but then you started…” You gesture your hand in the direction of his cock, braving a quick glimpse before slamming your eyes shut. He’s still naked, standing in front of you with a pillow covering his bare waist, and it’s just too much. 
“How much d-did you hear?” He asks softly, shuffling from foot to foot as he scratches the back of his neck. His nervous tick. 
“Uhm, well, not… not a lot…” It’s kinda comical how unbelievable you sound and Eddie must think so too because he huffs out a laugh as he backs up to his bed, plopping down on the side of it and adjusting his pillow shield.
“So you heard everything then. Fucking fantastic.” You step out of the closet finally, shuffling quietly against the carpet as you close the door back and face him, hands clasped together in front of your chest.
“Are- Do you hate me now, Eds?” You ask, perturbed, fiddling with the black and red yarn bracelet around your wrist. The same one Eddie wore; a friendship bracelet he’d given to you after the first time you’d hung out one on one.  
Eddie seems puzzled by your question, going to stand before he quickly realizes he’s only wearing a pillow. “Wait a second, will ya?” He asks and you nod covering your eyes as if you hadn’t just been watching him jerk off. When he's done, presumably getting dressed, he taps your elbow and when you don’t uncover your face, he grips your forearms softly and guides them away. He offers you a friendly smile when you meet his doe eyes. 
“I don’t hate you.” He says softly, the heat of his fingers leave goosebumps on your skin.
“I would.” You mumble, shifting from one foot to the other. 
“I thought you were mad at me?” He asks, trying to catch your eye but you’re too busy counting the tears in your worn out converse. 
“M not mad. I just wanted to get you back.” You offer and out of the corner of your eye you can see him nod. 
“Glad you’re not mad still.” He says and then, “How’d you get in, sweetheart?” 
“Wayne let me in, before he left. I skipped last period to get here before you. I swear, Eddie, I only wanted to jump scare you like you’ve been doing to me for the past month, I-I didn’t- I didn’t know what to do when you started..” 
“Hey,” He chirps, grabbing your chin between his thumb and index finger, and you try not to think about where that hand just was because if you do you’re gonna start thinking about the sounds he made while it was wrapped tight around his- no stop it. 
Even in the middle of the most embarrassing conversation you’ve ever had, your thoughts betray you with images of his hot, rock hard, cock. 
“It’s no biggie, really. I should have figured something was up, Wayne never leaves the door unlocked.” He’s fucking smiling at you now, a full smile that shows his teeth and crinkles the corners of his eyes and for some reason unknown to you; it really irritates you.
“No biggie?” You cry, pushing him away from you, and his face falls but you can’t handle him being so close to you right now. “You just caught me spying on you while you jerked off, but it’s no biggie?”
“Yeah, no biggie. No big deal.” Eddie draws out his words, hand rolling in the air as he elaborates. “I’m not mad at you. No biggie.” 
“Eddie, I feel like such a perv-” You start, eyes still watery with shame, but Eddie cuts you off. 
“You literally watched me jerk my dick while thinking about you, I think we’re both falling pretty hard on the pervert line here, sweetheart.”
You look him in the eye, finally, trying to judge if he truly means what he says. You find honesty, and something else you can’t quite decipher, with his gaze locked onto you and you nod and give him an unsteady smile before sinking onto the edge of his bed. 
“‘M sorry.” You tell him. “Really.” 
Eddie shakes his head, sitting down next to you in only his boxers, and places a hand on your bare knee. That fire surges again, deep in your bones, shooting through you like a bullet at the small contact.
“Don’t be sorry. I’m no worse for wear because of it. Kinda-” He trails off for a moment, reaches back to scratch at his neck again. “Kinda hot thinking about you watching me without me even knowing.” 
Oh. Oh. 
You really should have figured he’d be into it. Little freak. 
“Was kinda hot watching you…” You offer shyly, biting your lip as Eddie beams at you.
“Yeah?” He asks, his nose scrunching up all cutely as his cheeks flush.
“Mhm, you know I’ve had a crush on you since, like, forever right?” 
“Okay, don’t fuck with me like that.” He warns, umber eyes searching your smiling face. 
“Not lying.” It’s simple, matter of fact. Eddie blushes even deeper. 
“Well, fuck.” He runs a hand over his face, unable to wipe the cheesy smile from his lips. “I guess I don’t have to tell you I feel the same, huh?” 
You laugh at this, leaning your head onto his bare shoulder. “No, I think I got the message in technicolor. You could put the porn industry to shame, Eddie.” 
“You’re gonna give me a big head, sweetheart.” 
“You already have one, Eddie.” You say, eyes falling to his lap. 
Eddie chokes out a laugh in disbelief, shoving you back onto the bed to hover over you. 
“You’re a little minx, aren’t you? Who woulda thought.” He teases with his face buried in your neck, lips ghosting across the sensitive skin there. 
“Don’t you have Hellfire Club or something, you horn dog?” You ask acerbically and yet you still push your hips up to meet his when he bites down on your jugular. 
“Mhm, they can wait. Found something better than playing D&D in a cluttered theater room.” He hums against you, lips following the curve of your jaw with feather light kisses. 
“The guys would kill me if I was the reason you didn’t finish the campaign tonight.” You push him back by the shoulders smiling up at him as he watches you giggle at the sight of his bangs lifted up off his forehead. 
“I can always just kill them all, they’ll be more mad about that.” He dives back to your neck, sucking and licking every inch of skin he can find, and as much as you want to stay here in his bed and fuck like bunnies; you’d hate to be the reason he was late. So you push him again, harder this time, until he rolls off you with a groan, slamming his fists into the mattress as you stand. 
“You know I never got to cum, right? I’m aching right now, need you to help take my pain away, baby.” He’s pouting, lips jutted out, eyes like a puppy, and everything in you is screaming to give in to his guilt trip, help this poor helpless man out. 
But that wouldn’t be any fun. So you lean over him, hands on either side of his head, and kiss him slowly. Mold your lips against his, drag your teeth sensually over his bottom lip, give him the most sultry look you can muster. It must work because his whole body shudders under your, desperate hands snaking up your skirt to grab your ass.
“Go to Hellfire, Eddie.” He groans at your words in disappointment, head falling back into his sheets. 
“You’re mean.” He whines, slapping his hand firmly onto your ass cheek. You hiss at the pain that ebbs to pleasure and take his jaw in your hand, forcing him to look at you again. 
“You didn’t let me finish. Go to Hellfire and maybe, just maybe, I’ll give you a helping hand after.” You lean down, tongue grazing the shell of his ear before whispering, “A helping hand, an open mouth, a tight wet pussy.” 
Another shiver and his hand gripping tight on the back of your neck pulling you up so you can see his wicked, lopsided, grin.
“That’s not helping my little problem, baby.”
You giggle. “There’s nothing little about your problem, Eds.” 
Eddie groans loudly, covering his face with the back of his arm but you’re swatting it away, giggling at his fiery red cheeks. You shower his face with kisses, every inch of rosy skin, until he's pulling you into his chest and caressing the edge of your jaw as he gazes at you with stars in his eyes.  
The look in his eyes tells you your friendship is no longer that, instead there's a promise lying in his shimmering irises, something that was always there but you could never figure out the meaning to it. Maybe you were always destined to be more than friends, maybe this crazy -fucking bizarre- series of events was fated. You and Eddie, not as friends but as something more. Maybe the two of you were written in the fucking stars or something. 
You’d like to find out.
So you kiss him once more, different than before, savoring the way he follows after your lips, how he cradles your head so tenderly as he kisses you back with the same fervor. Too soon you’re climbing off of him, smoothing out the pleats of your black checkered skirt as he watches with that endearing little pout. 
“Lets go, Dungeon Master, the masses await thee.” He takes your outstretched hand, raising to his feet. He looks down at himself, in only his green boxers, and smiles at you all cheekily. 
“Think they’d still respect me if I showed up like this?” 
You pick his jeans up off the floor and place them in his hands. “Mm, probably not. But I’ll help you get undressed later, like I said, helping hand and all.” 
“Fuck, my little minx.” 
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pixiemunsons · 2 years
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for your viewing pleasure (em)
the girl in eddie's favourite porno mag looks real familiar...
over 4k words (i couldn't help it i'm sorry), best friends to lovers, dirty talk, joking about non consensual touching (it's a single line and absolutely a joke), lots of pet names, weed use obvi, eddie's been jerking it to a pic of someone who looks like reader so if that's an issue don't read, no use of y/n. reader’s hair reaches her shoulders. also unprotected sex (even these two idiots know that’s a bad idea)
no vol two spoilers here!
a/n: i'm so horny for eddie munson i just needed to write this. i'm still working on multiple bridgerton one shots so don't worry, i've not neglected them, eddie is just my fave rn
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you quite literally could not believe your eyes.
you had really seen some shit these last few years. visiting your friend robin at work one afternoon had pulled you into an absolute mess of russians and alternate dimensions and kids with psychic powers and numbers for names. if anyone had told you two years ago that steve ‘the hair’ harrington would be dropping you at school most mornings, that your closest friends would be a group of fifteen year olds, that you would be best pals with eddie fucking munson? you’d never believe them. but this was truly the most unbelievable thing you’d ever seen.
you don’t know why. it was unmistakable. uncanny, really. laid out, literally bare in front of you.
the girl in the centrefold of eddie munson’s most dog-eared, crinkle-paged, unnervingly sticky porno mag looked just like you.
you knew snooping in his room was wrong, but you had no idea there were still secrets between the two of you anymore. you’d been joined at the hip since steve had introduced you the year before, and you weren’t really looking through his stuff, you just wanted to find his stash so you could roll you guys something for when he got back from his shower. but then your fingers had closed around something glossy under his bed and you just had to know what was in it. you weren’t expecting anything like this, maybe just some softcore shit you could tease him about for a couple weeks, but the magazine had opened on its own to its apparently most viewed page, and your jaw had dropped with it.
you couldn’t see all of her, just from the lips down to the knees. she was led down, mouth spread in a wide grin, lacy white underwear adorning her hips. her breasts were exposed, nipples pebbled to the seemingly cold air, and she was trailing her hands up her stomach teasingly. her knees were bent to the side in a look-but-can’t-touch sort of gesture. it was almost tasteful compared to the open mouths and hairy bushes of the other photos. and she literally looked just like you. the hair falling over her shoulder was the exact shade as yours, and even her breasts seemed to be the same size. her skin could’ve been matched to yours at a make up counter, and the shape of her hips and thighs was so reminiscent you would’ve believed they were yours had you not known otherwise.
so why the fuck was eddie looking at this photo? there were a couple of possibilities to be pondered. first, it was a second hand magazine. as gross as that thought was, the person who handed it to him might not have even known you. it was also possible that eddie had never thought of what you might look like under your clothes, which whilst a little deflating (god knows you’d thought about what he looked like under his) was a definite possibility. and then there was the alternative, which was that eddie had realised she looked like you and jacked off anyway, which meant…
you didn’t have time to think about it, though, because eddie was making his way noisily back to his room. quickly, you threw the magazine under his pillow and led back on it, rearranging your skirt and pretending to pick at your nails just as he threw the door open. he was still wet and, you were glad to see, completely shirtless. he leant an arm against his doorframe, the very top of his boxers peaking out from under his tight jeans in a way that had your mouth watering just a little bit. you couldn’t deny that eddie was attractive, and more than once you’d woken up in a cold sweat after having certain dreams about him. but he’d never given any indication that your feelings were reciprocated. sure, he flirted with you, and he loved being close to you, slinging an arm over your shoulder in queues and having a hand on your thigh when he drove. but that was just how he was. with everyone.
‘wanna smoke something, babe?’ he winked, and with a roll of your eyes he came and sat next to you, dragging his lunchbox out. of course. he kept it in his underwear drawer.
───
‘baby, i’m tellin’ you, the lord of the rings is a fucking epic!’ eddie cried out, joint in one hand and the other waving wildly through the air as he tried to prove his point. you plucked it from his fingers, allowing yourself to indulge in the way they brushed yours for a second.
‘dude, i don’t disagree, but i’m saying it’s not long enough for all the lore! like, come the fuck on, it’s two hours long for like, seven books! that’s at least four movies,’ you argued your own back, laughing at how eddie rolled his eyes. ‘some of us can read, munson, and those books are fuckin’ long.’ you smiled at him sarcastically, squealing as his hands reached out to tickle your waist. his body rolled halfway onto yours, pulling the blunt from your hand and taking one final hit before stubbing it out on his bedside table. long fingers clasped around yours, dragging both hands above your head to tickle your arms and you were laughing and from under your head… an unmistakable sound of paper rustling.
you froze instantly, and you knew eddie had heard it. your eyes shot open, and you could feel blood spreading up your chest and neck and across your face.
‘sweetheart…’ eddie looked into your eyes, and in that awful second, you knew exactly what was about to happen. slowly, carefully, with both of your hands still trapped in one of his above your head and his pelvis pressed into your left hip, he reached under his pillow and came out with the magazine. folded open on the centrefold. you were frozen under him, horrified and in shock and vaguely aware of the fact that your skirt had been rucked up to your mid-thigh by eddie’s leg and your underwear was dangerously close to being exposed. no time for that now, though. not when eddie had caught you going through his stuff and he was going to kick you out or call you a weirdo or, oh god-
‘i see you found my dirty little secret, babe. what’d’ya think?’
your head shot up. he asked you like he was asking about the weather, so casual and restrained. not the voice of a man who’d just caught his best friend rifling through his porn collection. your words came out trembling, made worse by the fact that he still had a hold of your wrists.
‘i didn’t mean to, i was looking for your weed.’ 
eddie scoffed, looking down into your face once again. his pupils had blown out, a mix of the high and something else, and his eyes looked black.
‘you sure baby? because you seem nervous. i think you saw something you like.’ his voice was still teasing, but there was something darker lurking there. you swallowed harshly, and he abruptly let go of your wrists, sitting up.
‘was it this one? perv.’ he joked, unfolding the picture to show her in her entirety. even from this angle, she was just like you, and you gulped again.
‘it was open on that one when i found it,’ you murmured, and for a split second eddie looked… embarrassed? the tips of his ears were flushing a bright red under his hair. you took this as an opportunity to sit up under him, and now he was half straddling your left thigh as he sat on his knees. you fiddled with the edge of your skirt, thinking about how he’d called you a perv. perv! after you’d found outthat he had been staring at a picture of you - well, not you, but, you know - naked! and before you knew it, the words were tumbling from your lips and you tried to stop them, you really did but-
‘she looks an awful lot like me, eddie.’
his face, which had been hidden behind his curtain of long hair as he played with the ragged corners of the magazine, shot up, and his eyes met yours once more. this time he seemed even more embarrassed, if possible. his cheeks were bright red, eyes open in shock, and he was gnawing painfully on his lower lip, a habit you’d noticed he kept when he was nervous. he opened his mouth to respond but you had already started now, and the words were falling from your lips like vomit.
‘i mean, you can’t see her face, but that’s what i look like when i’m- well, not exactly like that but her boobs are just like mine and… not that you think about my boobs or anything or you’ve even seen them to know what they look like but it’s actually a bit creepy how alike we look.’ your hands flew to cover your mouth, and you were wide-eyed. ‘not that you’re creepy! god no, i mean, i’m flattered, really, but…’ you shut up then, not because you had realised that you were rambling like robin but because there was a hand on the back of your neck and one on your waist and eddie’s lips were on yours.
they were chapped and slightly raw from him chewing on them, but so soft and his tongue was minty as he eased it into you. he was breathing heavily, and a subdued moan worked it’s way into your mouth when you gripped his bare shoulders and tugged him into you. you had no idea what this meant, mind reeling as he pulled you closer so you were now straddling his thigh, both of you sat up on your knees. the hand that spread over your waist splayed across the expanse of your back, travelling lower until it met the crease between your ass and thigh. his long fingers pinched at the skin there, pulling a whimper from you as you rolled your hips against his leg in response. his own bucked up against you, the denim seam of his jeans rubbing against your soft inner thigh and making you gasp. you pulled away ever so slightly to meet eddie’s eyes, and he tried to chase your lips, letting out a whine.
then he was dragging his lips down your neck to where it met your shoulder, working at the skin with his teeth and chuckling as you whimpered.
‘eds!’
‘yes, babe?’ 
his voice came from under your line of sight, muffled against your reddening neck, and you craned it to try and get a glimpse of his face. instead, you saw him pull away, smiling proudly at the mark that he had most definitely left with his mouth. cockily, he dragged his eyes up to yours.
‘the girl in the magazine-‘
‘would you believe me if i told you i bought it because she looks like you?’ he looked almost bashful asking you, a total contrast to a moment ago, and you couldn’t help the way your jaw dropped. 
‘i know i’ve never seen you naked, but some of these skirts you wear leave very little to the imagination, and you were wearing a white shirt when we jumped into lover’s lake that time. worst place to pop a boner.’ he chuckled as you hit his arm lightly. he was right though; you’d dived in after steve without hesitation, and eddie had had to lend you his jean jacket for your ‘modesty’.
‘i’m sorry, baby, i thought i’d been makin’ it clear how i felt about you.’ his voice had dropped to a murmur as his eyes explored your face, lingering on the way your lips had swollen with his kiss. without thinking, he reached up to cup your cheek, and he wanted the way your eyelashes fluttered closed imprinted on the inside of his brain forever.
‘thought you were just playin’ with me, eds.’ you gulped as he ran his thumb over your lower lip, tugging on it gently. his forehead creased, eyebrows pulled together in a frown.
‘never playing with you, baby. i wouldn’t fuck with your feelings like that,’ his nose nudged against yours as he pulled you into another searing but short kiss, ringed fingers clutching your chin so that he could commandeer the exchange. he angled your face delightfully, leaning you back so you had to arch your chest against his to follow him.
‘wish you’d made it clearer,’ you gasped when his left hand clutched your ass, pulling your crotch towards his own, ‘could’ve been doing this since that night at the lake.’
a laugh rumbled in his chest, fingers stretching back to grasp the back of your head.
‘wanted you a lot longer than that night, babe. i’ve had that mag since i was sixteen.’ you giggled at this, pulling back to stare at him in disbelief.
‘is that right, munson?’ you arched an eyebrow at him. he held a hand up as if in defense, leaving the other firmly attached to your ass.
‘you said it was flattering! would it make you feel better if i said it’s not just because i think you’re hot?’ he asked, sounding sincere. ‘i’ve wanted you a long time, gorgeous, not just to fuck you. i wanna make you mine, y’know? that’s why i’m always callin’ you baby, and touchin’ you up a little-‘
‘i fucking knew it wasn’t an accident when you grabbed my tit last week!’
‘i didn’t grab it, i brushed it. and anyway, i meant how i’m always draggin’ you closer, tryna keep you under my arm, especially when you wear sexy shit like this.’ he reached down to rub the hem of your short black skirt between a thumb and finger. you had noticed the effect that you had on him when you wore certain items of clothing; long socks, denim shorts, band shirts. you always thought it was because he was just a man - god knows you’d caught harrington staring a couple times. but with eddie, you now knew it was different for you both. if you were honest with yourself, it had been building up to this moment for months. and you knew what you had to do.
‘look, eds, i’m gonna be honest with you. i really want that shit too. i want to get milkshakes in town, i wanna drive in the van with you, i wanna go see shitty bands in shitty bars outta town. but…’ you grabbed his hand and pushed it up your thigh, revelling in the way he groaned when his fingertips made contact with the damp fabric at the apex of your thighs. ‘right now, i really need you to do somethin’ about this.’
suddenly, you were on your back again. the movement made your tummy flip, butterflies erupting when eddie kissed you again. before, he’d been gentle; probing and exploring. this time, the kiss was tongues and teeth, and his hips were rutting against your thigh, pushing your skirt up to expose your underwear.
‘you’re fuckin’ kidding,’ eddie moaned out when he saw that you were wearing white. it wasn’t on purpose, but it was almost identical to the photo, and for a moment eddie munson thought he had died and gone to heaven. you made a move to pull your panties down your legs, but you swore you heard him growl before his hand flew out to stop them.
‘baby, i’m gonna need you to keep these on. turn over for me.’
you did as he said, flipping over so you were face down in his pillow, propped up on your elbows. behind you, you could feel eddie’s eyes burning into you. you could imagine how 
you probably looked right now; skirt flipped up, legs spread for eddie to kneel between them, wet spot between your legs as ringed fingers rubbed over your cheeks. two of them plunged between your legs suddenly, rubbing quickly over where you wanted him most, and you mewled and bucked your hips back towards him. a big hand pushed against your lower back, forcing you back down.
’shh, baby, i’m gettin’ there. just busy looking, you’ll have to wait a minute.’
his voice was hard but you knew he wanted it as much as you did, and you were proven right when, not a minute later, two long fingers pushed under the fabric and straight into your heat.
you couldn’t help the moan that slipped past your lips, hips keening back against his hand again as he searched for the spot that would make you scream. fingers crooked, eddie started stroking up against you, wrapping the other hand around your waist. he yanked you up so your back was pressed against his chest, and the change in angle led him right to what he was looking for.
‘fuck, eddie!’ you cried out, and you could feel his hard cock twitching against your ass through his jeans.
‘is that it baby? right there?’ he asked through gritted teeth, and the hand wrapped around your waist pushed its way down your skirt and into your underwear to rub at your clit. both hands were almost too much, and you would’ve been embarrassed at how quickly he had you working for release did it not feel so good. eddie was so caught up in making you cum that he didn’t even realise you had let go of his arm until your hand was wrapped around his dick, and he choked on a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
‘sweetheart, fuck, i can’t concentrate if you do that,’ he moaned out, clutching onto you even tighter than he had been before. you laughed breathily around a moan, hips grinding down on eddie’s fingers to speed up your impending orgasm.
‘sorta the idea, babe.’ eddie was nosing at your neck, pressing kisses to the back of your ear, and your words just made him work that little bit harder to get you there.
‘god, i really wanna fuck you right now.’
‘so do it.’
he stopped still and you turned around to look at him for the first time since he’d started touching you. he looked fucked out already; his lips were spit soaked and swollen, his chest was heaving and his eyes were wide open, drinking the image of you down.
‘fuck, babe, d’you really mean it? you don’t have to, i’m probably gonna have to beat off after this anyway.’ 
instead of answering, you reached down, stripping off your shirt and shimmying your skirt down your legs, leaving you sat in just your white underwear, pulled to one side. eddie’s knees almost buckled under him, and he grabbed your face to pull you into another kiss. the angle was awkward, you turning over your left shoulder, but it meant you could just about reach his bare cock and rub it through your wet folds. he jumped away like he’d been shocked, eyes pulled like a magnet down to where your bodies threatened to connect.
‘you’re not wearing a fucking bra either. you’re going to be the death of me one of these days,’ he moaned, and you had to stifle a laugh.
‘would it help if i said i never wear a bra around you?’
‘i oughtta put you over my knee and spank you, you dirty girl.’
‘promises, promises, munson. you gonna fuck me now or not?’
he chuckled darkly, swatting your ass cheek with a wink before leaning into his bedside drawer, sighing heavily when he opened it.
‘baby, i’m really sorry, but i’ve got no johnnies.’ eddie rested his chin on your shoulder, nipping at the skin there with his teeth. you leant back into his touch, swallowing heavily.
‘i never did this before,’ you said, and you could almost feel his ears perk up. ‘but i’m on the pill, so as long as you pull out…’
if he died now, he’d be dying a happy man, he was sure of it.
‘fuckin’ hell, babe, you sure?’ he grunted, teeth grazing your ear. ‘i needa hear you say it, sweetheart. tell eddie you want him to fuck you bareback.’ you supposed he was trying to be funny, but it sent a shiver down your spine that he didn’t miss.
‘does it turn you on when i talk to you like that, baby?’ he crooned, and you could just about babble out a ‘shit, yes!’ 
‘then tell me you want me to put it in,’ he teased, rubbing his cock through your folds and bumping your clit in a way that made your eyes roll back in your head.
‘eddie, i swear to fuckin’ god, put it in or i’ll just get myself off.’
‘as tempting as that is to watch, sweetheart,’ he muttered, squeezing your hip, ‘i think i’ll stick to this.’ and with that, he pushed himself in. 
he wasn’t going to put it all in at once; he was gonna spread you nice and slow, fuck it in and out slowly. he knew he was bigger than most girls were used to, and he was gonna use all his self control to make this as easy as possible for you. but as soon as he put the first inch in you were squirming, begging for more and sucking him in like a fucking vacuum and trying to sit down on it. not to mention how wet you were; he’d never known anything like it. so when you leant back and grabbed his arm and looked at him with those beautiful puppy dog eyes and pouty lips and begged ‘baby, please, just fuck me?’ 
well, he was a goner.
you were so turned on you barely even registered the pain of the stretch, but you knew from the way eddie was repeatedly bumping your g spot that he was bigger than anyone you’d ever had before. and he knew how to use it. he was holding it deep, fucking you in slow, grinding thrusts. every part of your body was touching a part of his, as if you were one person, moving together in perfect synchronicity to get you both there. eddie had never been in anyone bare before, and he was starting to feel like he’d never want to use a condom again; he could feel every part of you, and it was bringing him closer and closer to his release with every passing second.
‘eddie, i think i’m gonna cum already,’ you half slurred, half moaned, and he kissed your shoulder, increasing the tempo of his hips. suddenly, you felt the knot break and your orgasm washed over you in a crescendo, and you cried out eddie’s name as he fucked you through it. he was using his hands to guide your hips against his, all while whispering in your ear; ‘so good for me, babe, so fuckin’ good, gonna make me cum aren’t you sweetheart? such a beautiful girl, so naughty just for me, ’s that right?’ you were nodding along with his words, fingers clutching onto him tightly and so wrapped up in the moment that when he stilled his hips and gasped ‘oh fuck, babe, ‘m gonna cum, you need to get off,’ you just couldn’t bring yourself to stop rocking against him. your head was leant back against his shoulder, and you could hear him muttering frantically as he tried to hold onto his orgasm and push you off.
‘eddie, babe?’
‘sweetheart, please, i’m gonna cum, you need to-‘
‘calm down,’ you turned your head, kissing down his neck and stroking his hair gently, ‘just cum in me.’ you felt his thighs still under yours, then tremble as a rush of warmth filled you up. you wished you could bottle up the way eddie moaned into your ear, the way he pushed right up into you and filled you up to the brim, the way he sighed as you kissed his cheek when he finished.
‘babe, that was really hot, but fuck, we really shouldn’t have done that,’ he murmured, pulling out and feeling terrible at the way you whined.
‘’m on the pill, we’re good,’ you whispered, eyelids drooping as you climbed into eddie’s bed, completely naked.
‘shouldn’t you go, like, pee or?’ eddie asked, combing long fingers through your knotty hair, and you noticed he had, at least, pulled his boxers back on.
‘shhh, sleep time. i’ll do that later. we can get a plan b too, if you’re worried.’ you yawned, and eddie’s heart soared when you made grabby hands up at him. ‘now come get in bed, i need a cuddle.’
‘yes, ma’am.’
‘don’t make it fuckin’ weird, munson.’
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mobbu-min · 2 years
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☆ Pretty Boy ☆
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summary: in which, you're asked who you thought was the prettiest boy and not even a second later you respond with his name. unknowingly leaving him a flustered mess.
a/n: long time no see guys! but here's a little thing I worked on. school literally been beating my ass fr
characters: every housewarden
!tw! insecurities, grammar mistakes im too lazy to fix
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Riddle Rosehearts <3
⋆ Riddle's face erupts in a spectrum of red. He’s far too shocked to do anything other than stare agape at the wall.
⋆ Prettiest boy? Him?
⋆ Surely you must be joking. But, you sounded so convinced. You said so fast and bluntly, that surely it's not a joke. That you mean it, right? Right?
⋆ Either way, this boy does not know how to act. He’s going through all stages of denial and acceptance. He’s planning and unplanning how this could turn out for the both of you. He’s anxiously biting at his lip, picking at the loose threads of his blazer. Trying desperately hard to get back on track. Silently cursing(not really) you out for getting him off his game.
⋆ A part of him, a side he keeps hidden, deeply wishes that you meant it with all your heart. Because, he thinks you're very pretty too.
“Prefect, perhaps if you are not busy this coming weekend, you and I could get together.- What will we do? Well I planned a little stroll through the gardens, just you and I of course, and then after, we’ll get dinner- excuse me?…A-a date?! Am I asking you out on a date!?……..Well, if you’d be up to it, then yes. Yes I am.”
Leona Kingscholar <3
⋆ Leona knows he’s good looking. Annoyingly so.
⋆ But to hear you say he was the prettiest boy in all of NCR? Oh boy, his ego is twice its original size. (ha! take that vil!)
⋆ And no, he’s not smiling like a lovesick school girl because of you. Hell to the no. He just saw Malleus fall on his face, actually….SToP LoOKiNG At HiM!
⋆ Does he take your response as truth? Yes. Is he going to bring it up to you and embarrass you just for kicks and giggles? Absolutely, yes. Will he ever confess? ……probably, but first, call him pretty again.
“Pretty? Hmm, I’d prefer attractive, or down right smokin hot. But y’know, I don’t mind pretty if it’s coming from you. Hmmm? Don’t tell me my little herbivore is shy now? C’mon move those hands and let me see your pretty face.”
Azul Ashengrotto <3
⋆ This has to be one of Jade and Floyd’s pranks, right?
⋆ It was in fact not a prank, judging by the two background characters he’s never seen before.
⋆ Okay, it is confirmed that it is indeed not a prank. What now? Well obvi, stage two, embarrassment and quickly approaching stage three, denial!
⋆ Skipping those two stages, because for goodness sake Azul! Get a hang of yourself, man!
⋆ He quickly tries to think of a plan, a contract perhaps. Wait no, last time he tried that, you threatened to hide his cane and glasses. There has to be another way to…to…to….well, he’ll think of that later.
⋆ For right now, Azul is practically glowing in his seat.
“I couldn’t help but overhear, but tonight Monstro Lounge is having an event. Of course, you’re not forced to come, but I’d like to show a better side of me-I mean, my business! If you’ll allow it, that is.”
Kalim Al-Asim <3
⋆ Pretty! You just called him the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen! 
⋆ Kalim is over the moon, Jamil has to go and get him down, and practically bursting at the seams. It takes him everything not to glomp you into a bone crushing hug right then and there.
⋆ But he wants to be slow with how he approaches you. Wants to take his time and plan a nice quiet-Yeah like that actually going to happen! Kalim throws a large ass party, nobody knows what it's for besides Jamil, and of course you're the guest-of-honor!
⋆ All of your favorites are there! Everything you could ever hope for lovingly set out and planned for you. 
⋆ Kalim hopes this will express his feelings for you and show how happy your comment made him. If not, expect to be dragged in the middle of the party off to a magic carpet ride through the night sky.
⋆ You may be marveling at the pretty sky and stars, but Kalim’s eyes will never leave your pretty face.
“Wasn’t that fun! Let’s do it again! -What? You’re tired? Well that’s no good! Come on, let's have a sleepover. I promise you’ll have the best sleep of your life!- But first, mwah! A pre-good night kiss! Don’t worry there's plenty of more where that came from!”
Vil Schoenheit <3
⋆ Smug, if there was one word to describe Vil, it would be smug. 
⋆ Of course, you’d answer with his name! He is the fairest of them all! You were state fact! Nothing but the truth!
⋆ So, why does his knees feel so weak? Why does his face feel warm? And most importantly, why does his heart feel like he just ran a marathon? 
⋆ Well never mind that, Vil will not let your little praise get to his head and mess up his whole routine. And yet, as he readies himself for bed, Vil can’t help but linger on your words. Linger on the way your eyes softened and head shyly turned to hide in your shoulder. 
⋆ And then those feelings return and Vil can’t do anything to stop them. Like acne it infests his heart and turns it to a bloody red. However, unlike acne, Vil doesn’t want to get rid of it..
"My sweet potato, if you ever feel down, feel free to come to me for assistance. I would love to show you some latest skin and hair products for you to try. And I would be more than happy to demonstrate it for you. Hmm? Ace said that your skin has been looking like Riddle’s face? How rude of that unripe spudling, like he looks any better! Ahem, I mean, perhaps you’d like to take up the offer now then? I’ll be making smoothies.”
Idia Shroud <3
⋆ …pretty….you just called him pretty….system overloading…system crashed…pew…pew…pew…pew…sjdpsjsjlaoap
⋆ There's not a single response from Idia for like five minutes. People think he's a literal statue, birds even start building nests on him for crying out loud! It's that bad.
⋆ But once he gets his system loading properly, oh boy, he let's out the loudest, most high pitched, scream, you think he's getting murder(or seeing someone in the first time in months) He's a whole ass volcano fr.
⋆ He doesn't get it. He really really doesn't and now he thinks you're weird, like really fuckin weird. 
⋆ Because he's not pretty. Vils pretty, Mega super dragon boss is pretty, that blue hair normie you hang out with, he's pretty, hell even you, yourself, is pretty! But Idia?
⋆ Yeah, he's scheduling you an eye appointment asap.
⋆ Idia doesn't get you and he never will, at least not yet. He doesn't get what you see in him, why you thought he was the prettiest boy you've ever seen, but for some reason that night, when Ortho was charging and it was just him alone, he could finally look at himself in the mirror and not be repulsed with who looked back at him.
⋆ For once, he finally saw himself as Idia, the prettiest boy in your eyes.
‘A-are you available tonight? Eh? W-w-why?!....oh, ummm, there’s a new game that's coming out and I…I wanted to know if you wanted to be my player 2!’
Malleus Draconia <3
⋆ Hmm, how strange of you. You never cease to surprise him.
⋆ Malleus is used to being called a gallery of different names. He’s heard it all. Pretty being a rare one in the collection. He’s much more used to being called handsome, but pretty? Well, Malleus could get used to that. Especially if it's coming from you. 
⋆ Malleus is the one to confront you right after. Thank you for your kind words, ignoring the way his stomach fluttered and cheeks flushed, and promptly disappearing. He’s not sure what exactly to do with this...feeling. It's the first for him, so he finds himself thinking he might have gotten ill. Perhaps, your kindness is truly infectious, like Sebek says. 
⋆ However, do not fret! Papi Lilia is on his way to do whatever he does best!
⋆ Malleus is surprised, yet he isn’t in denial or flustered, he’s actually at ease. Relaxed really. Because he can finally put a name to this feeling that infects his heart every time you're around. He knows why his heart felt like it was on fire and why his knees felt weak. 
⋆ Because you have infected him, you've been cursed with a disease called love. A disease Malleus doesn’t mind living with as long as he stays the prettiest boy in your eyes. 
"You’re quite lovely yourself, my dear Child of Man. Stunning really. You put the stars to shame, the wonders of the Universe to shame, the most stunning jewels are nothing compared to the twinkling of your eyes. My dear, you say I’m pretty, however I believe you're down right gorgeous."
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chososchalupa · 2 months
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chuuya headcanons?
i love love LOVE Chuuya omg also this is my first BSD request and i was so excited when i saw this. please send more <3
Also was not sure if you meant boyfriend!Chuuya or just Chuuya in general so i did a mix of both
word count - 340
Chuuya Headcanons
♡ Chuuya is def a big horror movie fan but he will also be anxious af after watching them (you’d think being a mafia executive he’d be numb to that but no, ghosts are scary)
♡ Chuuya is obvi insecure about his height, (he would never admit it) but the jokes people make about it do get to him a little bit so he’ll definitely need some reassurance once in a while.
♡ He is a GREAT cook and has taught Akutagawa some meals that he could cook for himself and Gin 
♡ Speaking of Akutagawa, Chuuya has huge big brother energy towards him, he is there for him no matter what and he’s one of the few people Akutagawa has actually talked to about his feelings (it was mostly about Dazai and Chuuya had a LOT of choice words about him ofc)
♡ Boyfriend! Chuuya is sooo romantic, like the type of dude to buy you flowers at LEAST once a week. He loves to show you how much he appreciates you
♡ Besides flowers, he's just a big gift giver in general, (rich boy asf), especially on holidays/ your anniversary but honestly, he doesn't need a reason to get you a gift. If he sees something he knows you’ll like, he's buying it for you.
♡ He is a HUGE cuddler, and he enjoys being little spoon once in a while but not that often yk
♡ NSFW! Boyfriend!Chuuya who is definitely a lil bit vanilla most of the time, like, he’ll do whatever you want but he mostly enjoys slow sex as its more sentimental and he just feels closer with you 
♡ BUT if you get Chuuya in a bad mood, specifically after working with Dazai for a day, he will actually rip you to shreds. He is going to take allll his anger out on you and it's def going to be hard to walk the next day
♡ Hes for sure into handcuffs and any type of bondage, not so much into hitting or hurting you in anyway though (unless you want him to)
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sebastianswallows · 1 year
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It's not like any other love | S.S. | Part 1
— PAIRING: dark!Sebastian Sallow x F!MC
— SYNOPSIS: In order to cast an unforgivable curse, you have to mean it. So how does Sebastian make himself want to hurt the girl he’s been harbouring a huge crush on?
— WARNINGS: angst, jealousy, unrequited love (or is it?), hurt/comfort, abstractly violent imagery, suggestive wand-work, and just an unfun time in the catacombs with Sebby and Omi and the MC that’s caught between them.
— WORDCOUNT: 1.3k
— A/N: Not beta read (except by remus-levioso 🙏 tysm) or existing with any sense or purpose. I just wanted to write something for this little troublemaker and I couldn’t stop thinking about how Sebby could hurt MC when he only seems to have positive feelings about her. I started to think about how he could hype himself up to wanting to hurt her, and just went down a rabbit hole of angst. Spoilers for the game, obvi. I hope you enjoy this, my lovelies 💞
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“It won’t work unless you really mean it,” said Ominis, or something along those lines… Sebastian was already a wreck of fidgeting and frets as he stood in front of that door of marbled horror, watching from the corner of his eye while his new friend tried to get Ominis to cast the unforgivable. He didn’t want to think that they were doomed to die here, even with Noctua Gaunt’s skeleton beside him — he couldn’t accept it. Sebastian would batter his head against this problem, like he had done with every other one before it, and prevail.
He tapped his foot on the floor and slid a glance to Ominis again. As expected, he was shaking his head “no” and physically distancing himself from the new fifth year. Coward, Sebastian thought before he could stop himself — because it wasn’t fair, he reasoned, to hold it against Ominis after what he’d been through with his family. He promised himself he’d understand his friend, would sympathise, would listen… But what a coward.
“Ominis won’t cast it,” said the girl once she was by his side again. “What do we do now?”
And that’s how it started.
Sebastian was soon placed in the uncomfortable position of having to give free rein to those parts of himself he had, especially as of late, try to restrain. He was striving to be softer, gentler, more understanding — for Anne’s sake if not his own, and Ominis seemed to appreciate it too, and it wouldn’t do to scare off their new friend either. How sad, then, that casting the curse meant that Sebastian had to dig up all those freshly buried feelings that caused him so much regret — and all of them about the girl before him.
He prepared to cast the curse. In his mind, with one quick force of will, memories of recent days were summoned to the surface.
First, he brought up that spark of envy from when she first defeated him, at the duel in Professor Hecat’s class — the twinge of shame as well, because he liked it, because he wasn’t even mad that she had bested him, because she was genuinely better. Better than him? Hatred, jealousy, resentment.
Second, their meeting in the Charms class — which didn’t happen because she sat next to a Gryffindor and why? Why? Did she think him not good enough to sit with?! He’d joked to Ominis about casting Accio on people, certain that his blind friend wouldn’t know who he was looking at, but from Ominis’ suggestive retort — “Well, you’d be using it on clothing to be precise, Sebastian.” — he couldn’t be too sure of that. And how cruel of Ominis, if he said it on purpose, to make him think of summoning the clothes off her, pulling her toward him, landing her naked and helpless, in his arms… Resentment, longing, complete and utter despair.
Third, the Library. After he offered to show her the forbidden section, after he waited for her by the stairs for hours like a lovestruck puppy, after he protected her and took detention for her… all she had to say was “thanks”? He’d never felt so stupid as when he realised he expected far too much for far too little — because the only thing he really had to offer to her was himself, his knowledge, his skills, his sacrifice. Was he just not chivalrous enough? Was he not impressive enough? Was he just not… enough, at all? Despair, shame, crippling self-pity.
But she was enough for him — or so it seemed to his stupid smitten head, his roiling heart, his swirling dreams at night like so many teasing mermaids tucked behind their algae in the lake, like her in her forbidden bedroom up the stairs that slid beneath his feet — after just a couple of duels and a nighttime escapade among his favourite books and a trip to Hogsmeade to the flutter of lacewing flies (and the thumping of trolls). Sebastian couldn’t remember the last time he was so smitten so quickly and he wasn’t even sorry, he gladly shared every secret with her one by one just to see the sparkle in her eyes and would go into the deepest dungeon with her just to show off and he caught himself saying the stupidest most barefaced lies just to see her smile.
But no, she was impressed with Ominis, and his ability to talk to snakes, his sad past, his Undercrof… What a fool. Ominis wouldn’t be the least bit interested, he was too caught up in himself, too distant, too troubled — and in his more humane moments, Sebastian felt sorry for him, which perfectly counterbalanced the moments when he wished he’d been born in Ominis’ stead and had parents that taught him forbidden spells and told him all the time about his great lineage descending straight from Salazar himself. Oh. Of course she’d like Ominis better. Ominis, tragic and handsome and kind, who knew all the darkest curses and a catalogue of hexes and worse, who would rather die than hurt her. Well, Sebastian could do better than that, at least — he’d hurt her eagerly.
She wanted to learn the curse, she said. So he taught her. He showed her the motion, took her cold and clammy hand in his and guided her wand from behind, whispered the curse in her ear until he was satisfied she did it right —
“You need to say it as your wand descends.”
“Now?”
“No, start from higher. Like this, arm bent… Toward me. Closer.”
“Now?”
“Yes. Like cutting through flesh. Strong, forward motion.”
“Like this?”
“Just like that. Perfect, you’re perfect. I love teaching you curses, you’re so good… so good at it. Now, say it as I told you to.”
— and then, once she was ready, Sebastian took his place before her.
For once, Sebastian forgot how he felt about himself, and focused his emotions — mixed and myriad and primal — on her. It was, unsurprisingly, very easy. With the warm and soapy scent from behind her little ear and the tickle of her hair against his lips still fresh, he said it. The curse was tinged with his resentment for her, his jealousy of her, his yearning and hatred and want.
The flash of red moved in such a way as to cleave her open, as if he could, with a bolt of light, break her apart and peel her ribs away one at a time until he could get right to her heart, cup it in his hands, and steal it away.
What a piercing cry she gave, high and frail and consummately feminine. From the side of his senses, Sebastian could tell even Ominis was shaking, there in his corner where he cowered from the act. He could hardly blame his friend, it made his skin shiver too to get her to sound like that, to bring her to her knees, to make her moan and tremble with the aftershocks of pain. He’d admired her before, but now he just desired her — she’d never looked softer, more mortal, more fleeting, her skin drained of all colour as blood rushed away to escape the pain, her bones looking delightfully breakable, her chest heaving with sinking breaths that choked her and strangled her from within and left her dizzy. Sebastian was by her side as soon as the curse was over, equal parts fascinated and contrite, hands burning with the desire to just hold her.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
Part of him hoped more than anything that she was, that she forgave him, that she understood he had to do it. But another part wanted to see her scarred and ruined and at his mercy, his to nurture back to health, his to sustain, his to hold.
She got up before he even got to touch her, his hand left hovering in the air just above where she shoulder had been, and beside them the door of muted screams melted away, revealing the Scriptorium.
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josibunn · 7 months
Note
Alright,
Imagine Euronymous's girlfriend always begging him to on bottom but he always refuses so when he laying down in bed they go in there and handcuff in to the bed frame and then we all know what happens from there 🤭
omg anon you LITERALLYYYY hacked my account this is sitting in my drafts!!!
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sorry this took so long anon, school literally beats my ass. I love this idea tho!!
fem reader x euronymous, smut! obvi, p in v, unprotected, use of restraints and a blindfold, smacking, cigarette play, subby euro and dommish reader, slight angst, he’s just so mean to you in the beginning :/. sorta cnc, heed the warning if you’re uncomfortable with such! enjoy! comment to be in the tag list or for moots ok mwah mwah!! scroll all the way down for taglist form :3
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tl: @cc-luvr @bambi-horror @sugarinte
“øysteinnn,” you whine, following him into your shared room. “no.” he shakes his head, almost closing the door on you. “but—just once! it won’t be bad!”
“I don’t care, because I won’t be fucking doing it.” he laid back against his bed, flipping on the tv. you’d been begging your boyfriend for weeks to let you be in charge, try something new with the cuffs he’d usually use on you. but no, he just had to be in charge all the time! wont even give it a chance!
“you don’t even know if you don’t like it!” you sit next to him, rubbing his stomach. “I don’t need to, because I don’t want to try.” he didn’t even look at you, and you groan. “you’re so mean! why do you always get to be in charge? what if I wanna make you scream my name?” you cross your arms, watching him light a cig.
“you’re fucking crazy, and you’re about to piss me off. don’t make me waste a cigarette on you.” he pointed at you, and you knew he was referring to how he’d press his cigs into your knees.
you huff, “fine, whatever. i bet varg would let m—” you couldn’t even get the joke out before he grabs your throat with his cigarette hand, slapping you across the face, making you gasp and yelp, putting a hand on him chest to push him away but he wasn’t budging.
“say it. say it I fuckin’ dare you.” he says lowly, eyes glued on you as he watches tears well in your eyes. he slaps you again but harder, making you cry louder. “you were just so fuckin’ bold, where’d it go? say it, go the fuck ahead.” he grits, squeezing your throat, making you whimper.
“mm. what I fuckin’ thought. don’t ever pull some shit like that again.” he takes a long drag of his cigarette before immediately smashing it into your thigh while it’s still red, the burn making you cry and scream and kick at him while he held your throat and held it down, watching your face with no remorse.
“maybe this’ll teach you how to behave.” he flicks it off onto the floor before slapping you again, blowing the smoke in your face as you cry. “you’re-so mean,” you cry, rubbing your leg and whipping your face off with your sleeve.
he sighs, he didn’t like listening to you cry, not out of frustration at least. “you gotta stop pissing me off sugar,” he coos with a hint of anger still in him as he cups your cheeks, using his own sleeve to wipe your face now as you look to the side.
“i’ll..think about it. i’ll think. just stop pissing me off, yknow I don’t like hurting you.” he kisses your cheek slowly before kissing you, rubbing your leg lightly and holding your face with his other hand.
you nod as he lets go of you, taking off his glasses and laying on his back and taking off his shirt, pulling the cover over his body. “go get yourself an ice pack, i’ll sleep on it, but that doesn’t mean a yes. ok? i love you, i love you,” he repeated, just because he wanted you to know he meant it and he loved hearing you say it back. no matter how soft he spoke you knew he’d still say no, but you just nodded.
“i love you too,” you say and he kissed you one more time before laying back with his arm over his eyes, then his lips parted. you left the room with a huff, crossing your arms as you went downstairs and fixed yourself an ice pack.
you didn’t know why he didn’t want to try it, maybe it was a masculinity thing, or his love for being in control of you during sex. but you were gonna get your way, you always did with him. whether he liked it or not.
so after your leg stopped hurting you went into your guys box of toys and trinkets, grabbing the cuffs and blindfold you knew oh so well. you snuck back into the room, seeing him sprawled out in the bed, thankfully on his back, sound asleep. and it was a good thing he was a heavy sleeper.
you grab his arms softly and place the cuff on his wrist, laying his arm back down and locking it around your bed frame, going around doing the same, and he was still sound asleep. you step back to look at him, giggling with a hand over your mouth.
an hour goes by and you’re getting ready for bed, having just got out of the shower. you had gotten into some lingerie you’d recently bought, it was lacy and red, and the lace making embroidered roses around the nipples but best believe they poked out underneath, the sheer fabric barley covering them.
and your underwear was bout the same but left your pussy to the imagination of whoever we gazed upon, the straps of it being thin red lace that barely covered your ass and only your your vagina, and ooh you knew he would hate not being able to watch you gush onto him.
euronymous stirred away, going to rub his eye but found he couldn’t, his hands in the air. he furrowed his brows as he tried to move the both down, jerking at the restrictions. “what the fuck?” he whispered to himself, looking up at what was holding him.
he tried to sit up but couldn’t even do that, more rage pulsing through his tired body. he huffed and shouted your name, it echoing through the apartment and made you jump, smiling. he’s up!
you giggle as you slip on a white nightgown, fixing your hair in the mirror and putting some vaseline on your lips, popping your head into the room so he wouldn’t see your get up. “yes?” you say innocently, and he stares at you, head down and eyes low with anger, a shadow cast over his eyelids. (like the gif :3)
“cmere.” he nods his head as he says calmly, but you could hear his anger. “is something wrong?” you smile, tilting your head. “come here,” he repeated louder as you lean against the door frame, showcasing your outfit, head propped against it as your hands ran down it.
“you like my gown?” he snarls your name again, “get me the fuck out of this.” you roll your eyes. “I get all pretty for you and you don’t even care!” “get me the fuck out of here!” you watch him jerk his hands against the cuffs, and it made you giggle a little as you sit on the edge of the bed next to him, rubbing his leg.
“oh you think this is funny? it’s fucking funny?? wait till I get out.” he nods, his nails digging into his palms as his biceps flex. “yknow you look so hot right now,” you crawl onto his right leg, rubbing his biceps. “i’m gonna fuck you up when I get out of here. just you fuckin’ wait, you can’t keep me in here forever.”
“how bout you just shut the fuck up. ok?” you’re seated fully on his lap as you rub down his chest sensually. “you’re being so ungrateful, and to think I wore something so pretty for you tonight.” you cup his cheeks to him look at you, his eyes still glaring.
“you’re in for it. you’re in for it I swear to fucking god.” he mumbles,trying to get out of your grip. “you wouldn’t have to wake up like this if you just cooperated baby,” you faux frown.
he struggles around you as you tie the blindfold around his eyes, “you’ll never be as good as me, yknow that? nobody can get you worked—” you slap him across the face and he chokes a gasp, mouth open in shock.
“you fucking-” “you just talk so fucking much, just let me take care of you,” he sucks in a breath, feeling your hand pull the covers off as you rub his waking wood, pushing his lips together and stopping himself from bucking up to your touch.
“øystein you know i’ll untie you if you want me to. but you really don’t want me to help you?” you coo in his ear and he jumps slightly as you continue stroking him through his boxers, feeling him grow in your hand and seeing him strain against his boxers.
“you don’t want me to make you feel good for a little, baby?” you kiss his neck lightly as you run your thumb over him clothed slit, hearing him hiss and pull at his restraints more. “[y/n], don’t touch-.” he grits, but lets out a whimper when your lips run over his sweet spot, his breath heaving.
you raise your brows in shock at the noise, continuing to prod at his sweet spot, running your tongue flat against it and sucking on it greedily, hearing him strain and whine some more as you stroke him quicker, his pale chest arching and heaving, trying not to let out any sounds of pleasure, he didn’t want you to have that satisfaction, but you know how to get it out of him.
you bite at the spot and hear him let out a strained groan, teeth pressed together as he moves his head out the way for you, there it was. you litter tiny bites on his skin, hearing him let out muffled groans and whimpers, making you frown.
you lift up and move your hands away, tracing a finger on his abs. “you were just so loud baby, what happened?” you coo, running your nails up his thigh teasingly. “hm?” you watch his pink face as his lip quivers, searching for your voice and how close you were.
“euronymous, you better speak the fuck up before I leave you here.” you warn, hand now up his boxers, and he gasps. “baby, cmon.” he mumbles. “what was that?” you sit close to him, slipping your gown off. “speak up for me.” you were drinking in this feeling, and he knew that, he hated it, and he hated how the situation made him feel. but he hadn’t been this hard since you let him fuck you over a balcony on a third floor apartment.
“baby come on,” he says louder, his voice whiney and desperate. “what’d you want me to do baby? you gotta tell me.” you kiss his lips as you pull him out his boxers, his hard, red tip oozing with precum, making you smile against him.
“mmf-do it, please baby,” he says in the kiss, and you slap him. “do what, euronymous. you gotta tell me what you want or I won’t do anything.” he gasps and exhales shakily, a whimper leaving his open mouth, breathing into your mouth.
you watch his cock twitch as his legs squirm and his fists struggle against the cuffs, making you smile. “you’re a dirty boy, yknow that? you like when I hit you?” you stroke his cock and he lets out a groan, and when he doesn’t answer you strike him again, harder. he yelps and grips his fists again, nodding.
“yes, y-yes I do baby I do,” he breaths, chest heaving and red. “touch it. touch it baby cmon,” he turns his head as he whines, searching for your voice. you smile, “is that how good boys ask? where’s that magic word you love so much, huh?” you taunt.
he pushes his lips together, whining. “no.” he mumbles, and you raise your brows. “no?” you repeat and move his hand away from his cock. “guess you don’t want it.”
he gasps, “no! n-no no I want it, I want it please baby,” he wiggled his hood in search for your touch again, and you could feel yourself get wet at his pathetic squirming as you bite your lip.
“say it again, say that magic word again babyboy.” you rub his thigh. “please baby, please touch me,” he whines. you smile, “only because you were so polite. but when I touch you you gotta say thank you, understand?”
“yes, y-yes I will,” he nods frantically. “yes what?” “y…yes ma’am.” he whispered, and you smile before spitting in your hand, grabbing his aching cock and stroking him quickly, hearing him moan out, throwing his head back.
“oh thank you, thank you baby,” he stammers, bucking up to your hand as his wrist move against the cuffs. “can you say thank you momma?” your squeeze around his tip as you stroke him quickly, pre cum gliding down onto your hand.
he whines, lips forming a pout. “don’t do this to me baby..” “say it. or i’ll stop.” you squeeze him again, and he lets out a groan, mouth agape and lips glossy with spit, oh he looked so cute. such a sweee contrast to how he usually preformed.
“o-ok! ok th-thank you momma, thank you momma,” he whines, biting his lip as he fucks your fist. “good boy, I knew you could be my good boy,” you scoot between his legs on your knees, leaning down to his tip, still watching his face as he groans out, head thrown back and his pretty pale chest heaving as his legs squirm.
“stop moving baby.” you warn, and he feels your breath on his tip, making him turn his head down, even though he still couldn’t see. “you’re—I wanna see, lemme watch you, please.”
you sigh a smile, oh his moans and whines and whimpers just went straight to your core, you were throbbing, aching. he whimpered feeling your hot breath on his tip, his dick jumping.
“you wanna watch? do you think you deserve to watch, hm? you’ve been so mean to momma.” you rub your tongue along the slit of his tip and he moans out. still pulling at his restrains.
“i’m sorry momma I-I didn’t mean it, I swEar jus’ lemme watch, love your lips, please,” he begs, voice cracking cutely. “my baby loves my lips? loved watching my lips wrap around his pretty cock?” you slip the blind fold off his head and his eyes shoot everywhere, taking in what you wore.
“oh fuck, fuck look at you,” he pants, his eyes glued to your boobs as you rub his shoulders before slapping him across the face, earning a squeak and whimper, his eyes shutting. “watch your mouth, you curse again and i’m gonna hit you harder.”
he nods, eye fucking your pussy that was closed off to him. he pulled at his restrictions, “lemme touch you, wanna touch you. please momma please..” he looks up at you with those big blue eyes you love so much. you shook your head, “you don’t get to touch me tonight, at all. you should’ve cooperated early.”
you crawl back down between his legs. he whines, “momma no, please I just wanna touch you, wanna make you feel good,” he whines, and you lay your head against his thigh, his cock his hand looking up at him. “you’re so cute, but no. no touching, you’ll make me feel good later baby, I promise you that.” you kiss his tip before circling your tongue around it, stroking the rest of his length as you took his tip on your mouth now, hearing him let out a loud groan and curse.
“ahh fuck momma,” he moans, and you slap his thighs making him jump. “do you want me to stop? what’d I just tell you,” you pull off, and he shakes his head frantically. “m-m’sorry, I promise i’m sorry, don’t stop momma.”
you hum as you go back down on him, sucking around his tip and hallowing your cheeks out, hearing him groan whinily again, watching himself disappear into your mouth with blown out eyes, brows furrowed and mouth agape, hair cutely stuck to his forehead.
you held his hips down to stop his squirming as you took him whole, your ass arched in the air, knowing how much he loved it, and knowing how bad he wanted to shove you down onto him.
“faster momma, f-faster please, can’t take it,” he groans, still trying to move his hips. and you listen, bobbing your head on him quicker as your tongue latches onto the underside of his cock, making him whimper out, eyes squeezed shut as his head lolls around and rests on his shoulder. “momma, momma please lemme touch you, m’gonna—” he cuts himself off with a moan, feeling his abs tighten.
“you’re gonna cum baby? is my pretty boy gonna cum?” you pull off and stroke him quickly, using his own slick as lube as your rest his tip on your tongue. he nods, teeth smashes together as are his eyes, bucking into your hand again.
“gonna cum momma, gonna f-f-” he stops himself from cursing by biting his lip before he groans and cums on himself, spurting on his abs and tailbone. “look at alll that,” you purr, watching as he just kept going, his eyes low as he watches, trying to catch his breath. he watches you get in and wipe your hand on his boxers, his eyes widening.
“when you’d get that?” he breaths, looking you up and down. “last week, you like it,” you sit next to him as he nods eagerly. “lemme touch you. undo me,” he looks up at you.
“boy you’re not getting out till I say so,” you clip on top of him. “stop tryin’ it.” “momma, look at you. I need to, please. lemme take care of you,” he whines, licking his lips as his head hangs on his shoulder, watching your boobs jiggle as you stand his dick up to your stomach.
“you’ll take care of me alright,” you grab his cigarettes, lighting one for yourself and taking a hit before putting it in his mouth, letting him take one too. “you remember what you did to me earlier?” you tap his cheek with the cig in your hand. “what’d I do?”
you take another drag before jamming it into his chest under his pec, and he cries out, pulling at his restraints and squirming under you. “stop moving.” you keep it on his skin and he groans between his teeth.
“fuck momma!” he cried out, tears swelling in his eyes. you flick the cig to the floor and slap him again, making him cry louder. you cup his cheeks to make him look at you. “keep disobeying me, you hear? i’ll leave you like this, with a hard dick stuck in hand cuffs. what would your little buddies think, hm?” you say, and his eyes widen, “n-no..”
“their big, bad, metal lord all tied up, begging to cum and calling his little girlfriend momma? you think they’d still fear you?” you coo, and you felt his dick jump against you as he whimpers looking away from you. his precum oozed onto your stomach, and you smack your lips.
“oh you like that huh,” you tap his sensitive tip, feeling him move against your grip as you do so. “dirty fuckin’ boy, want your friends to know about our little secret, huh?” you ask and he shakes his head. “no momma, please no momma,” he whines, tears rolling down his cheeks.
“mm, only because you’re being so good for me. you still wanna make me feel good?” “yes! yes yes yes, wanna make you feel so good,” he nods frantically as you push his head on the pillow.
“keep-keep this on though, keep it on momma. look so so good,” he watches you move your underwear to the side. “do you think you deserve it, huh? you’ve been actin’ out a lot tonight,” you rub his tip against your soaking entrance.
“uh huh, need it, need that wet pussy,” he groans, squeezing his fists. “you want my pussy babyboy?” you sink onto him, letting out a moan as he tips his head back and groans, making you clench around him. god he looked so so good like this.
“oh momma, oh momma,” he moans, his eyes shut and his lips parted. “don’t move, ok? lemme take care of it,” you rock your hips against him, holding his chest down and rubbing your thumb over his burn mark. he hisses at the sensation but bucks his hips up into you, starting to fuck up into you.
you choke back a moan before slapping him, “you don’t fucking listen, I just told you not to move.” with a huff you slide off of him, and he immediately tries to get up but can’t, “no! no no i’m sorry, i’m sorry I-i’ll be good I promise, fuck me momma please fuck me,” he begs as you go to the box in your closet.
“no. you don’t deserve it, bad boys like you don’t deserve my pussy,” you sit back in between his legs, yours draping over his as you tease your whole with the dildo. he whines, “no momma, please I-i’ll be good, just fuck me..i’ll be better,” he whimpers, whining more when you slid it in with a loud moan.
“momma..” “no. I gave..you a lot of chances tonight, and you’re blowin’ it baby.” you sigh as you fuck yourself, using your elbow to prop yourself up on the bed. you know he hates you getting off on your own, he always says he’d rather you just wait for him so he can do it, because he knows your body best.
he watched the clear dildo disappear into you with pouty lips as you moan out, head tipped back and eyes shut, your body jittery as you move faster. and god, you hated how he was right all the time, even under your control. he did know your body best.
“momma..momma please, i’ll do better. jus’ lemme feel you please,” he begs, his cock jumping at the sight of you arching your back, your boobs jiggling against your arm as you push deeper into yourself, a high moan emitting from you. “you promise baby?”
“yes, I-I pinky promise just please, please give it to me,” he whines. you roll your eyes before slipping it out, throwing it on the bed and crawling over to him. “you better listen to me,” you say as you sink back onto him, and he let out a drawn out groan, his eyes shutting and his head tipping back.
“that’s it, thank you momma thank you,” he whines, eyes low as he looks up at you, your hands planted on his pecks. “oh there’s my good boy, I knew you had it,” you coo, rubbing his cheek. he nods, “your good boy, swear momma i’m your good boy,” he breaths out as you lean to kiss him, hopping on his dick eagerly.
he moans high in the kiss, still pulling at his restraints but holding still like you asked. “oh fuck baby,” you moan shakily, hitting that deep sweet spot in you that had your body tingling and your legs shaking, feeling your stomach twist up.
your breathing gets heavier and you pull away, unable to continue kissing him so you two just breathed into each others mouth, eyes glued together, both drowned out in lust and ditziness. your moans got louder and you felt your body get heavier, and you knew what feeling was coming to you.
for some reason, your orgasm came harder when you were on top. “you’re gonna cum momma, yeah? gonna cum on me?” he sighs, watching you shut your eyes as you slow down, grinding onto him to to prod that sweet spot, and you moan out louder. “yes baby, I-m’gonna cum,” you say shakily.
he watches you lift up and bounce on that sweet spot, lips glossy. “so pretty, oh you’re so pretty momma, cum, cum on m—” he chokes as you wrap your hands around his throat, holding him down to the bed.
“shut up baby, let me take c-care of it, oh fuck, ooh fuck baby,” you whine, squeezing his neck as you cum onto him with loud drawn out moans, gasping as you ride out your high, eyebrows scrunched and mouth open, shuddered babbles flying off your tongue.
“gonna-cum momma,” he chokes, gasping for air as you press down more, riding his through his orgasm. he throws his head back and squeezes his eyes shut, moans spewing out of him before he cums deep inside you, hard load after load.
“mmm yes baby, that’s a good boy, yeah? you’re my good boy?” you continue riding him to overstimulation, and he shudders, groaning and arching his back.
“momma feels too good, feels too good wait, n-no,” he whimpers, gritting his teeth as he continues coming into you. “I know, it’s so good right? keep goin for me baby you got it,” you kiss his cheek as he moans, throwing his head back against the pillow. “n-no, it’s so good momma no more,” he begs, and you finally pull off, laying next to him on your side, cum leaking out of you as you try n catch your breath with your boyfriend.
“what’d you think baby,” you lift up to look at him, rubbing his face as he catches his breath, body relaxing against the cuffs, his eyes closed and chest heaving. “so good, real good momma.” “mmhmmm.” you nod, kissing him gently, hearing him still whimper when your lips connect. “lemme clean you up n i’ll let you go, ok?” you leave the room to wet a towel, coming back and seeing him laid back and eyes closed.
“baby?” you say softly before realizing he’s asleep, making you smile. “poor baby, all fucked out.” you clean him up gently before uncuffing him, allowing him to roll on his side. you turn off your lamp as you slip under his grasp, holding the hand that drapes over you.
you don’t think you’d do it again, or at least not often. that was a lot of fuckin’ work.
anddddd fin!! I loved this soooo much thank u sm anon :33 subby euro is something I didn’t know I needed in my life! I hope u enjoyed, comment for moots and taglist request form can be found here. bye love u mwah mwah!!
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janovavalen · 3 months
Note
im gonna be like the little devil on your shoulder politely asking for grover fics (im the person who requested the hurt/comfort one :D) I WANNA SAY A) THE FICS FANTASTIC LOVED IT SM B) DO YOU ONLY WRITE FOR FEM READER?? ASKIN OUT OF CURIOSITY BECAUSE IM NON BINARY IF NOT TOTALLY FINE OBVI
now askin for another one because im silly like that grover x gn(if you do gn if not then fem obvi) reader angst. i want to feel pain AND TYSM FOR READING THIS AND SOING THIS IF YOU DO ILYSM FOR DOING GROVER /P 🫶🫶(ps sorry for making this rly long i have lots to say)
a/n: omg HIII i was hoping you liked it anon!! i literally was like ‘bro what if they hate this sm imma be mad embarrassed’ bc i was rubbing on coffee and water when i wrote that😭 BUT YES ILL TRY TO WRITE WHAT U ASKED FORR, i’m a little scared bc i never wrote gn reader before and i don’t wanna like fuck it up for anyone but i’ll try<3
✧I WISH YOU SAW YOURSELF HOW I SEE YOU || grover underwood x gn!reader
summary: when grover comes back from his quest with percy and annabeth, he can’t help but notice that y/n has grown closer and closer to luke, causing him a bit of worry for the two of them.
word count: 1237 (this was rushed bc i was trying to get something out to you guys in so sorryyy)
warnings: misunderstanding, HORRID CLUTCHING jealousy, reader not knowing, grover giving the cold shoulder, slight hurt but comfort and hugs in the end<3
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grover had just gotten back to one of his quests with annabeth and percy. and he was esthetic to get back to camp.
they meant everything to him. when they first met, they had been very quiet, reserved but polite and never ever put one in their place if needed. they didn’t take up bullying and they wouldn’t stop now.
when grover had met them however, they had been in the lake taking a small swim on the hot day, he had been there to just sit under the sun. which they allowed, the two of them didn’t talk until they had decided since they were both there and in the same camp, the two of them might as well know each other.
and from then on, they had been nonstop talking to each other, hanging out, laughing and chatting at all the meal times and sooner or later, grover felt his crush on them developing faster and faster. they had been eighteen, the prime age for an adult so he didn’t feel weirded out—even though they told him not to feel that way.
when he looked around for them, he found that they were nowhere to be found which concerned him a little. usually y/n is always waiting for him at the front of the cabin but this time, they weren’t ?
a little concerned he began to ask around for y/n, everyone saying they didn’t really know or they saw them just a second ago.
‘where could they be…’ he asked himself while turning around to look over his shoulder.
just as he walked near the bows and arrows and there they were. standing there with a wide warm smile on their face, only..they weren’t alone? once somebody moved away from where this mysterious person was there stood luke castellan. a wide smile on his own face while he shook his head at y/n who must have told a joke.
grover wouldn’t particularly care or mind in this situation but…he felt something was a bit different about the way y/n had been laughing. it was over excessive and a bit different then the way they laughed at him?
when y/n laughed at him—with him, they usually would look away or clear their throat, but with luke? they stayed their eyes locked and or they’d bend down to laugh while covering their mouth.
y/n usually didn’t cover their mouth with him. could this be a sign that he was in the friend zone the whole time.
clutching his hand into a fist next to his side he walked away, unknowingly to him, y/n had called out his name with a smile but it immediately dropped when he didn’t turn their way making y/n extremely confused a the tiniest bit of embarrassed at how they was ignored so openly.
ㆍ୨୧ㆍ
later that day at dinner time, y/n had happily made their way over to grover and percy who had been speaking but when she sat down he got quiet. started to pick at his horns very subtly but noticing to y/n.
‘uhm…so how did the quest go?’ y/n asked while looking over at percy who shrugged and to grover who didn’t look up.
‘i hope good?’ they said once more to get grover’s attention only for him to not even stop picking at his food. with a sigh of sadness, they grabbed their food and got up to another table with their siblings.
percy looked and was dumbfounded—‘grover? what was that?’
‘nothing?’ grover shook his head while frowning his eyebrows.
‘nothing? dude, you flat out ignored y/n and on top of that hurt their feelings? i thought you were all…on the side of doing nothing but making them happy?’ percy asked once more while setting his blueberries down.
‘okay…well, they seemed to have enough happiness with luke when they were talking…they can find happiness with him better than me apparently.’ he sighed while trying his hardest not to look over at y/n who’s mood had completely died at that table he sat at.
percy scoffed and rolled his eyes—‘are you kidding me? dude y/n is literally in love with you? and for you to think they like luke castellan more than you when they specifically stated they saw him as a brother and nothing more…is insane.’ percy finished shaking his head at grover who had sat up more and groaned.
placing his hands on his face while mentally beating himself up at the fact he treated y/n that way with no hesitation.
‘your kidding me…oh my’ grover mumbled while slowly looking over to y/n who wasn’t there. getting up in a hurry, grover went to ask luke, annabeth and the others sitting at the table with y/n where they went.
‘oh…they went to take a walk in the forest, said their head was hurting…you wouldn’t be the reason right…’ annabeth eyed him dangerously and warningly, making him hurry and shake his head but annabeth could see through him.
‘what did you do’ she groaned. grover sighed and explained leaving luke a bit speechless and annabeth to roll her eyes with a sigh.
‘well stop standing here any longer and go find her you pea brain’ annabeth pointed over to the forest leaving grover to hurry and run to it.
ㆍ୨୧ㆍ
‘y/n!’ he shouted while cupping his mouth to make it a bit louder. when no answers came through he shouted their name over and over until.
‘what?’ along with a sniffle and a shaky voice. feeling his heart burst and his strings pull, he say y/n sitting with their legs close to their chest and their face pressed on their knees. seeing them this way because of him made him almost cry.
‘y/n…listen i’m so, so sorry. i—i thought you’d move on from me when i was on my quest to luke so i was so upset and so jealous because luke is a great guy and who wouldn’t want to be with him—‘
‘me grover…i don’t. i want you, i made that so very known and i don’t get why you can’t see that—‘
‘i know! i know, im so sorry, okay? i’m sorry’ he whispered while making his way over to y/n who’d shed a tear but wiped it immediately with their hand. when grover placed himself next to y/n, he was quick to hold them in his comfortable arms.
as y/n buried their head into his neck they mumbled—‘i wish you saw yourself how i see you’ they mumbled making him almost cry with a huge smile.
not being able to stop himself he ambushed y/n with hundreds of apology kisses while y/n laughed and fell back into the grass with their arms trying to push him away.
he did pull away, but only to close his eyes and make his way down and over their lips. y/n kissed back immediately with their hands cupping his cheeks.
‘i think i really love you y/n l/n’ he confessed. y/n let out a small giggle and licked her lip.
‘and i think i really love you too grover underwood’ pulling his face in for another kiss which he took.
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happy74827 · 3 days
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The Demon With A Heart
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[Crowley x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: When Crowley saves your life, you can't help but think it was a little more than self-interest.
WC: 1858
Category: 99.9% Sexual Tension (lmfao), 0.01% Fluff + Angst? {TW: Mentions of Demons (obvi), Murder}
Crowley is too iconic not to have fics. I said what I said.
『••✎••』
You didn’t know how to react. It was as if your tongue was taken away, and you couldn’t talk, no matter how much you wanted to thank the man.
No, the demon.
You stood there with wide eyes, staring at the King of Hell, Crowley. He looked the same as before: a clean suit, a snarky comment, and a look of disgust on his face. But, instead of being on the opposite side, he was wiping the blood off of the angel blade he used to kill the angel that jumped you.
He just saved you—The King of Hell.
The very man who told Sam and Dean countless times that he doesn't do anything for free and doesn’t help people without getting something out of it. Yet, here he was, standing in front of you, not asking for a single thing.
The thought was a bit unsettling.
"Purely out of self-interest, darling," He says, breaking the silence and putting the stolen blade into his jacket. "Call it a favor that I plan to collect in the future."
He was about to leave, but you couldn’t let him go. Not without a thank you, at least. You didn't want him to think you didn’t appreciate what he did.
"Crowley."
The man turns back around, his hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable.
"Thank you"
The corner of his mouth turned upward, forming a small smirk. He didn’t say anything but rather kept his eyes on you for a second longer. He then disappeared, leaving you in the dark.
And it did leave you in the dark. For days, weeks, months. He never came for that favor, and he never brought up what happened. In fact, he barely talked to you at all. It was always towards the Winchesters.
You began to believe it was nothing but a dream. That Crowley somehow didn't save you. The angel was a fake, and this was all some sick joke. It felt like gaslighting.
But you knew what happened was real. You remembered the blood splatter and the dead corpse. The way his face contorted when he pierced the angel's heart.
It was all too real.
So, why was he ignoring you? Why did he pretend that it never happened? Was he going to hold it over your head? Or was it just the fact that the King of Hell did something nice for a human?
Was it because he… cared?
One night, you got your answer. It was a quiet night filled with books, tea, and soft music. At least, it was before those idiotic brothers decided to tear down the bunker in search of some book.
You couldn’t remember the exact reason they needed it, but you were too tired to argue. So, you stayed in your room and tried to fall asleep.
That is until the lights went out and the emergency lights kicked on. Okay, now you were annoyed. You got up, slipped on your shoes and a coat, and walked out of your room.
"Alright, what did you two-"
You paused mid-sentence, eyes falling onto the figure in the library. The man was facing the opposite way, but you knew exactly who it was. The familiar black suit and hair gave it away.
"Crowley…"
"Hello, Darling,” he replied, turning around and smiling at you. It was almost unnerving. He didn’t have a malicious aura or even an evil one. Just... a smile.
You looked behind him and noticed… well, nothing. You were expecting the Winchesters to be with him, and yet, it was just him.
"Where are the boys?"
"Moose and Squirrel? Ah, they're off somewhere, doing... well, you know. Something heroic, I suppose. Figured I’d stick around… enjoy the scenery."
That’s when you looked up and understood what he meant. He was stuck, quite literally. Those devil traps they put everywhere finally did something good.
You half-expected him to bring up that 'favor' he was talking about or maybe even just demand to get out of there, but he did neither. Instead, he looked at the ground and sighed.
At the moment, the King of Hell looked just like a caged puppy, sad and alone. If he wasn’t such a… demon, you might have even felt bad for him.
But, you left him in there, strolling along to the kitchen to find some kind of light. You were not giving up your two hours of reading due to power loss.
As you shuffled through the cabinets, looking for any form of match or lighter, the lights flickered back on.
So that’s where the Winchesters were.
You shrugged and turned back to your room but stopped at the entrance to the library. Crowley was still there, but this time, his face was twisted. He was clearly pissed.
"Why did you do it?" The burning question you wanted answered for months finally came out. Crowley stopped his little fit and turned towards you, a confused expression on his face.
He looked like he had no idea what you were talking about.
"I do a lot of things, Chipmunk. You'll have to be more specific."
You walked towards him, resting down the candles and book on a nearby table. You didn’t know why, but the need to confront him was growing.
"Save me all those months ago."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
You were getting closer, now only a few feet from him. Crowley, however, didn’t back away. Instead, he watched as you moved, his expression unchanging.
"That angel could’ve killed me, yet you came out of nowhere and stabbed him. I know you don't do anything out of kindness, so why did you do it? What do I offer that no one else does?"
Crowley stayed silent for a while, not giving any indication of answering your questions.
You thought it was just a lost cause until his expression changed. It was subtle, but you caught it. The corner of his mouth turned down, and his eyes widened, then narrowed.
He almost looked ashamed.
"It's just like I said. Self-interest." He spat out, his voice sounding like venom. You almost took a step back. It still sounded like the same old Crowley, but his tone was different.
You decided to call his bluff.
"I don't believe you."
Crowley raised an eyebrow, a smirk coming across his face. He was amused by the sudden attitude, but it didn’t last long.
"And what makes you say that?"
"I saw the way you looked at me after you saved me. Hesitancy, almost. Like you were unsure. As if..."
The King of Hell stared at you, waiting for the last part of your statement. He was eager but not for the answer. No, he knew what you were going to say.
He was just waiting to hear it come out of your mouth.
"You care."
Those words hung in the air, both of you processing it. Crowley continued to stare at you, the smirk disappearing, leaving his face neutral. He had a blank expression.
A silence grew, the atmosphere turning awkward. It wasn't until the demon let out a loud sigh and looked to the side that it was broken.
"You’re really pulling on the heartstrings, Chipmunk,” he muttered, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "If I had one, I'd say it was aching."
"Do you?"
You knew what you were implying. Crowley was the King of Hell, the ruler of the damned. He was the furthest thing from human, yet he could walk among them and, sometimes, be mistaken for one.
Was it possible for him to be human or even have emotions?
Crowley looked at you and frowned, clearly not liking the topic. But he didn't deny it. It was a strange sight—the King of Hell, frowning and silent.
It was almost adorable.
"I'm not asking for anything. I just… want an honest answer."
"Well, I am a demon, love,” He stated, his tone changing to a more playful one. “Honesty isn’t quite in the job description."
"Crowley"
You were starting to get impatient, and it showed. Your voice was firm, and your posture was tense. You wanted an answer, and you were determined to get it.
The demon in question let out another sigh and looked at the ceiling as if praying for a quick escape.
"You're a pain, you know that? It's exhausting." He grumbled, rolling his eyes. "But, I suppose, since you asked nicely..."
The man looked at you, his lips pursed. He was still hesitating, which only made you more curious.
"Yes, I care. About you. Happy?"
You blinked a few times, processing the information. Did the King of Hell, the person known for not giving a shit, just admit he cares?
"I-" You started, not knowing what to say. It was a surprise but not an unwelcome one. Crowley wasn't exactly a bad guy, well, a demon.
"Do you actually mean that?"
"Now that…" Crowley started, his voice low and deep. He leaned towards you, making you back up, but the wall soon prevented you from going any further.
He was inches away, his breath hitting your face. You could see his eyes staring into yours—a pretty brown, like a mocha latte.
"…Is the kind of question that will get you in trouble, love."
You weren’t sure what he was planning, but you didn't care. The way his eyes were looking at you, the smirk on his face, the closeness...
He was probably expecting you to back away, but he was wrong. You were an avid reader, obsessive even. This scene wasn't new, nor was it shocking.
The only shocking part was the fact that you were the one in it. And, well, the fact that you didn’t mind it.
"Unlike you,” you whispered, a small smirk on your face. "I don’t care."
Your response made him pause for a moment, squinting his eyes and giving you a confused look. It only lasted a few seconds, though. Soon, he understood, and a chuckle escaped his lips.
"Touché"
You truly believed you were about to lose your chance with the man upstairs, but loud footsteps interrupted you.
"Crowley, you slimy son of a bitch! If you’re not here, we are going to-"
Dean stopped talking as he rounded the corner, seeing you and Crowley close. His expression was shocked, almost comical.
"The hell is going on here?"
You and Crowley both turned to look at Dean, a look of annoyance on the King of Hell's face. Sam came around the corner as well, sharing the same look of confusion.
Crowley gave you one last glance, a bit of disappointment in his eyes, before taking a step back. His attention moved on to the two hunters, his usual smile returning.
And despite the annoyance in the air and the confusion, the only thing that came across your mind was another question that you were sure would take control of your sleep schedule once again.
"Hello, boys," He purred, his arms moving to his side. He was back to his old self, not showing a single sign of what happened moments ago.
Had the beauty thawed the beast?
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h4rring1on · 2 years
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hi i love ur writing! i was wondering if u could do something where reader is acting all sketchy and stuff and steddie notice so they plead for her to tell them and it turns out she’s hiding bruises from abusive ex?? thank uuu !!
𝘦𝘹 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥
warnings: swearing, abusive ex (obvi), reader is bruised and is weak when around ex, steddie being all caring and jshshdnwoenhfne
pairing: steddie x reader, abusive!ex x reader
ೃ༄*ੈ✩
eddie and steve have never been this worried about you. you always loved to be around them and joke around and all
but for a bit, you’ve been a little distant. you haven’t been yourself much, like some guilt is eating you up.
not to mention, you haven’t been accepting their advances recently. everytime they’d try to get you in the mood, you’d just wave them off and tell them you don’t feel like it and that they should just enjoy each other on their own.
they of course completely understand, but it’s been way too much, as in to the point where something has got to be going on.
you walked inside the trailer, being met with steve and eddie who were sat on the couch, as if they’d been waiting for you.
“hey” you said in a low voice
“hey sweetheart” eddie said, “don’t you wanna take that off?” he motioned to your hoodie
“don’t feel like it” you said, that was a complete lie. you were sweating. it was almost summer, so it was quite hot.
“baby…why don’t you have a seat?” steve asked, you paused for a bit and muttered a small okay and sat, the two made space so you could sit between them.
“you know we love you, right?” eddie said
“and you know we care about you—a lot, right?” steve said
“what’s going on?” you said, a little concerned. were they gonna break up with you?
“we’re supposed to be asking that” eddie said
“what?”
“you don’t have to lie to us, peach” steve said, “don’t think we haven’t noticed how you’re acting”
“you can tell us anything” eddie said, holding your hand, “what’s going on, love? what’s got you all distant?”
you then realized what they meant, you looked down and let go of eddie’s hand (who noticed and felt a little bit hurt)
“you can talk to us, baby, please—tell us what’s wrong” steve said
your eyes teared up as you tried to find the words, what were they gonna think of you? they’re gonna think you’re so weak for not defending yourself. they’re gonna hate you. they’re gonna think you’re cheating on them
“sweetheart?” eddie snapped you back to reality, you then noticed that you were now crying
“i’m sorry” you whispered, eddie and steve looked at each other for a second then back to you
“sorry for what, peach?” steve asked
“something happened” you said, “and i was too weak” you cried out
“what happened, love?” eddie asked
“a few days ago…i was leaving school to get to your car and—“ you held back a sob, steve rubbed your back to try and calm you, “adam was there—he grabbed me and told me he wanted me back” eddie and steve tensed at your words, “i told him to go away and that i have you guys—but then he kept his grip on me a-and—“ you stuttered, you pulled up your sleeves to show a bunch of bruises scattered around your arms
eddie and steve just stared, unable to form any words. you grabbed a tissue and the water bottle that was on the table, you used it to wet the tissue, you then wiped your face to reveal a bruise near your eye
that was what really set them off. eddie’s eyes widened and he grabbed your face to examine it
“motherfucker” he muttered
“i’m sorry” you whispered
“sorry? baby you have nothing to be sorry for” steve reassured, his eyes trailed down to your arms and his jaw clenched
steve and eddie shared a look
“let’s take care of these, okay sweetheart?” eddie said and you nodded
eddie guided you to his bedroom, you laid in his bed while steve got some ice to help
“you’ll tell us if something else like this happens, right?” steve asked and you nodded again
“it’s gonna be okay, love” eddie smiled at you, stroking your hair while steve iced your bruises
during that moment, you truly felt loved. they didn’t think you were weak. they didn’t hate you, they didn’t think you were cheating or lying. instead, they took care of you.
once you were sound asleep, the two left with one rule. never tell you what ended up happening to adam, it wasn’t pretty.
a/n: hello anon! i hope i wrote it the way you wanted, i feel like it sucked :(((
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ghoulsgraveyard · 11 months
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Wear Them 2/3
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a/n: so i decided to split this into three parts because i felt bad about how long its been since an update, i needed to feed yall. so this will have to tie you over until we get into the good shit. i may split this again just bc this fic has a mind of its own. this is not proofread, i will proof read it later tho.
warnings: Content warnings: feminization (reader calls Eddie a girl), panty theft (obvi), subsequent panty wearing, perv!eddie, degradation (the fun kind), fem!reader, reader has a vagina, sub!eddie, dom!reader, slut shaming but also virgin shaming (it makes sense don’t worry), some light cock and ball torture (genital slapping), spanking, emotional hurt/comfort (I dont know how that happened it just did) aftercare!
read part one here
You flicked the panties at his chest “you wanted them so bad. Wear them.”
Eddie seemed to realize what you meant in slow motion, putting the pieces together “intended purpose” and talking of him stretching them out… holy shit. You wanted him to wear your panties, and even more shocking to him, he wanted that too.
His mouth gaped like a fish, his lack of response causing you to pause “is that- would that be something you would want to do?” his response was immediate “yes fuck yes please uhh yes I feel like I should call you something other than your name while we do this or maybe I'm over thinking this and you’re not into that and the whole idea of calling you something else isn’t because I want to do this with someone else because uh im uh only interested in you and doing this with you and uh now I'm talking too much an-” shutting him up with a kiss “don’t worry about it baby. You can call me whatever you want, whatever makes you the most comfortable” you smiled against his lips. Eddie thought for a bit “promise you won’t laugh?” he said meekly, still fearing your judgment.
You held your hand up to his cheek and smoothed the skin of his cheek with your thumb, holding his face. In that moment you realized why Eddie was so hypersensitive towards you in particular. He can handle the judgment and ridicule from everyone else in this town, but not from you. You remembered all the times he would look to you after telling a joke to see if you’d laugh, or asking you to double check an assignment, even letting you read his book of lyrics. He had given you every piece of him, he looked to you for your approval, he looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky, and in that moment you have never felt more important to another human being.
All you could do was smile warmly at him “oh baby I would never laugh at you” he practically whimpered, melting into your hand, then murmured “thank you master” he looked to you, silently asking if you liked that one, the groan you released more than answered him but just to reassure “that’s a great name you picked thank you baby.” Eddie beamed at the praise.
“Okay baby, before we do this I want to make sure you’re happy and safe the whole time, okay lovely? So to check in with you I'll ask you what color you’re feeling. If you feel good and safe say green, if you want to pause or slow down say yellow, and if I do something that makes you feel bad or unsafe I want you to say red. In the event you want to stop or pause or slow down, don’t wait for me to ask you baby, just shout out your color, okay?” he nodded along “I need to hear you tell me you understand baby” “I understand master” you smiled at him “good girl” eddie was immediately confused “I'm- master I'm a boy I'm not a girl” you raised your eyebrow at him, still smiling “honey I think you’re a bit confused, yeah?” you spoke to him like he was a lost dog, he nodded and you pouted at him “okay baby I'll help you make sense” suddenly you grabbed his chin, smushing his face in your hand forcing him to meet your gaze “when we’re playing, you are whatever I say you are. So if your master calls you a good girl, that’s what you are. Got it?” Eddie whined at the roughness of your grasp, “yes master thank you master” you gave him a curt nod “what’s your color baby?” eddie was still reeling but buzzing with excitement “green, master”
“Well?” you gestured to the panties “put them on slut.” eddie was beyond flustered, he began moving, then a truly delicious idea came to you “actually baby just lay there. Master will put them on for you.” he was glowing with embarrassment “what do you say sweetheart?” there was a pause as eddie tried to think of what you wanted to hear “thank you master” you beamed with pride “good girl, you’re catching on so quick! Such a good girl for your master” you swiped the panties off of his chest and settled yourself at the foot of the bed, the image was erotic. This big intimidating man who scared the whole town was trembling on his bed while you slipped a pair of panties between his feet. You swept them up slowly, the hair on his legs being pulled by the fabric, then released. The elastic of the legholes fought to accommodate his large thighs. You situated the underwear in the back first, pulling the gstring up so it sat correctly between his cheeks, now was the fun part. Eddie whimpered and you pull the fabric up in the front, slowly, torturously, the back of the panties pressed and pulled his tender sack while the front was still being rolled up by you. Swift finger adjusting the fabric that pushed his weeping cock against his stomach, you were delighted by a revelation: he was too big. Eddie’s dick was too long to fit in these panties, the elastic stopped about 3/4s of the way up, leaving the rest of him exposed. You watched as the red tip of his aching cock seemed to cry pre-cum, sticking to the patch of hair that trailed from his navel to his bush. You leaned back to take in the image. It was beautiful.
You looked at him from all angles like he was an art piece, how the straps sat above his hipbones, the way the elastic stretched to accommodate the cock sticking out of the top, how his full hairy balls couldn’t fit in the crotch and were practically cut in half by the g-string, the delicious way the fabric desperately stretched to hold his hard cock, practically busting at the seems. It was beautiful.
Eddie couldnt help but squirm under your watchful eye, and for the obvious reason. He whined which caused your gaze to snap back at his face “you look so pretty baby” you cooed at him “so pretty all dressed up for your master, such a pretty girl” eddie blushed and hid his face behind his hair when you called him that. He feels like he shouldn't like it as much as he does. You pet his face “you like that don’t you sweetheart? Hmm? You like it when master calls you a pretty girl?” clearing his throat “y-yes master I like being your pr-pretty girl” he was so bashful it was adorable
“why don't you go look at yourself in the mirror?” you stood up off the bed and offered him a hand, which he took shakingly, you led him to the full body mirror in his room, then stood behind him, both of you looking at him. Eddie rotates his hips, looking at himself from different angles just like you did. Your hands wrapped around his chest and grazed his torso with featherlight touches leaving goosebumps in their wake “look at you” you whispered “just gorgeous” your hands made their way down to his groin “such a pretty cock all wrapped up in lace” you squeezed his dick, hard. He hissed at the feeling “hurts'' he said through his teeth “good hurt or bad hurt baby?” you rubbed your palm over his bulge “g-good hurt.” a grin split your face “oh that’s good baby. You like it when your master hurts you?” you grabbed the leg holes of the panties and pulled them up roughly, causing the g-string to harshly dig into his balls, Eddie yelped at the sensation, the sound quickly morphing into a moan.
You bark out a cruel laugh at his response. “Well?” you growl at him, Eddie pants, his mind empty, his wide eyes bright but thoughtless, his jaw slightly dropped so his pink lips form an ‘o’ as he pants “I asked you a question. I expect you to answer me.” Eddie desperately wracks his brain for the question, finally he remembers, stuttering out “Y-yes master I l-love, I love it when you hu- hurt me master.” Whines caused him to interrupt himself, in his empty head all he could think about was how he could please you, impress you, you seemed happy when he talked, so he tried again to form words “Th-thank you for being so p-patient with m-me master” he gasped out. You gasped in delight, smiling wide “Oh baby look at you! My good girl has amazing manners. So proud of you sweetheart. I’m so happy with my little slut” Eddie soaked up the praise like a sponge to water, bathing in the warmth and depravity of your words “You’ve been so good for me, i think you deserve a reward.” you whisper to him like a secret “what do you think?” he nods quickly, hair shaking with the motion “yes master I would like a reward please.” you dig your nails into his hipbones and roughly pull him back onto the bed so he’s sitting back to chest with you facing his mirror. You lick and bite at his earlobe while snaking your legs to sit over his thighs, somewhat restraining him with your body. You let your fingernails drag up his hip bones and dance across his torso, his abdomen twitching at the light touches, cock continuing to drool just below his navel. Your fingers skirt up to his chest, drumming your fingers on his pectorals before allowing yourself to lightly circle his right nipple with your finger tip, the rosy bud hardening as you circle in tighter, you repeat the ministration on his other side before taking each nipple between your pointer and thumb. Eddie lets out a low hum at the sensation. You gently roll the skin between your fingers, gradually increasing pressure, until you’re fully pinching him. He squirms in your hold letting out whimpers and moans. You smile and continue to roll and tug at his sensitive skin, his hips jumping when you slap his chest. His gasp transfers seamlessly to a loud moan, skin prickling in reaction. “That feel good, little one?” you smile, already knowing the answer “uh-uh-huh feels really” you interrupt him with a slap to his other nipple, causing him to moan loudly “really, r-really good” the rest of his response came out in a whine. His head rolls back to rest on your shoulder, bangs sticky with sweat against his forehead, eyebrows pulled together with fluttering eyelids occasionally revealing the whites of eyes rolled back, mouth hung open in pleasure. He looks depraved. He looks divine.
You drag your nails across the reddened and raised skin “it’s a little bit funny” you muse “because you’re a slut, but you’re such a little virgin huh baby?” he whimpers, you continue “it’s pathetic, it really is, but it’s endearing how hard you try. Try hard to come across as this big scary man out in the world, but i slap you around and suddenly you’re my pathetic little girl. You’re not scary at all, you couldn’t hurt anything.” he nods in agreement, you lick the skin between his chin and his ear, biting his earlobe before you whisper “but I can” he whines loud and high in his throat, at the sensation and your promise of delicious pain. “Wh-what do you mean master?” he licks his lips, eyes straining to look at you from his place on your shoulder “oh all sorts of good hurt i could give you. I was thinking, because of how much you like when i slap you, i’d like to see your pretty ass over my lap.” He blinks at you slowly “Thats your cue to lay yourself over my lap baby.” He quickly scrambles into position in a manner who’s absence of grace is substituted by enthusiasm.
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lskisms · 1 year
Text
YOU, AT LEAST, WERE BUILT TO GO, J. MILLER
. . . which is why you are able to be loved
synopsis — joel is getting older, he is getting frail, and you, still in your youth, have to come to terms with it. you just have to do so much sooner than you thought when he’s hurt during your attempt to escape the university of eastern colorado.
genres &&. warnings — angst, hurt/comfort, (post) apocalypse &&. canon compliant, spoilers for ep. 6 “kin” and ep. 7 “left behind,” contemplation of death, canon-typical violence (wound, gore, blood, wound care), age-gap (reader is in their mid-late 20s).
word count — 3.2k
note from r — title comes from the poem “elegy for my innocence” by steven dunn. i suppose i need to introduce myself a little: i’m rhi, i’m 22, and i’m in my second to last semester of college where i’m majoring in english. obvi, a big fan of the last of us, but also resident evil (which is what i’ve based my account aesthetic on, courtesy of my beloved leon s. kennedy). my ask box is open for people who want to send in asks and things. i’m really looking forward to writing for my fellow joel miller lovers.
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if your parents were still alive, if they were around to see the life you’ve carved for yourself over the last few months, you’re certain your dad would want to smack the shit out of you and your mother would disown you from the family faster than you could blink.
you can hear the chastising now: a man old enough to be your father? are you joking? what the fuck is wrong with you? this is not what we meant when we told you we wanted you to start a family. 
and you can’t fault them really. you are almost twenty years his senior, having been just a young child when the cordyceps outbreak decimated the world. if the world had stayed normal, if none of this had ever happened, you’d probably have a dead end corporate job that has you wanting to drop off the face of the earth at the end of every grueling day, married and going home to a man complacent and yielding in every aspect, never too sure of himself to assert any kind of dominance, stuck in his own dead end job that keeps you comfortable just enough.
but the world isn’t normal and it hasn’t been since 2003. and there’s nothing you can do about it. you feel like a child again, wholly the depiction of the angsty teen in dramas and romcoms, as you tell the ghosts of your parents that the heart wants what it wants and i can’t help that i fell in love with a man going starlight gray at his temples. it is wholly melodramatic, something that you would have seen in any number of teen dramas written by out-of-touch, old white men.
joel miller came into your life like a lone crimson leaf during the fall, sometime during your first few months at the boston quarantine zone. it wasn’t like he’d meant to because everything that man did and does is deliberate; he’d simply waltzed across your line of vision as you’d walked back to your apartment after a long day of doing menial chores, the new world equivalent of that mental-health-issue inducing corporate job that the older people of the zone talked about.
you’d heard of him, of course: joel miller, flown in from somewhere down south, a menace to anyone who crossed his path prior to his arrival in boston, a brother somewhere out in the midwest who had taken off and joined the fireflies. he was decidedly unapproachable, gruff and mean and stubborn. most people were more scared of him than they were of fedra for the simple fact that he was more deadly with his two bare hands than any fedra idiot (sorry, “soldier”) with a gun.
he wasn’t a person who you intended to mess around with, no matter how handsome you’d thought he was when you saw him that first time. but then you’d started hanging around with tess, one of very few people who had any kind of stable-enough connection with him and that had led to you meeting and hanging around with him too. tess invited you to go on runs with them, sneaking out of the zone at night to stretch your legs and look for supplies that fedra definitely had and refused to give up. she’d preached your capabilities to joel and, stubborn as he was, he’d allowed you to keep coming with them after the first time because you proved to be spry enough for things that he and tess had grown a little too old for: you were useful to him and that filled you with a kind of thrilling gratification.
by the time marlene had tasked your little trio with getting ellie out of the city, you were a year deep into your entanglement with joel where you did all the recreational talking and he was the one who made the deals with the fireflies, the fedra goons he had in his pocket, the people who had things to trade. it was a balance that worked well for you: joel was well-versed in persuasion when he wanted to be and you were seemingly the only person who could draw out the rare ghost of a smile or a laugh from him.
it was supposed to be a quick job, one that joel had insisted you sit out but you’d refused. just a quick round trip tpe thing, that’s what you’d said to him. we’ll be out and back before anybody even realizes we’re gone. 
that had gone belly-up, of course, because anything that involved the fireflies had at least a 99% chance of not turning out the way anyone planned. and when you’d left the museum, you were down a friend and up a whole ton of miles. joel had tried to convince you again to leave, but once more you’d refused. tess died for us, joel. i’m in this until the end because i’m making sure her sacrifice wasn’t for nothing.
and he’d let you stay. even months after that discussion, you think that he must feel at least a tiny bit grateful that you’d argued with him over it, that you’d fought to tag along. you’re an extra set of eyes, of hands, someone capable of taking over when he needs a break, which is hardly ever because he’s still as ornery as always, but knowing that there’s someone there who can must be nice enough.
and you’re glad he’d given in for once in his life because he’s dying beneath your hands and you’re not sure what to do. he’s going sallow and gray on the concrete floor of this ransacked house, breathing raspy and eyes slipping between you and some far-off point above him. joel is dying and for the first time ever since entering his life, you’re useless.
“joel, stay awake, please,” you beg, clutching at his hand as you kneel beside him. “ellie, you have to stop the bleeding.”
“i’m trying,” the young girl snaps. when she looks up, all you see is a girl who is reliving a loss, a deer caught in headlights, frenzied and terrified. her hands press the cloth harder over joel’s stomach in an attempt to staunch the blood flow and the man groans.
“leave,” he mumbles and your head snaps to look at him. he cannot possibly be saying this right now, not after everything you’ve been through. “leave. head north, go back to jackson. find tommy.”
“like hell we will,” you reply, trying to channel as much of his stubbornness as you can. you’d rather give up and drop dead right now than leave him to die alone in some fucking house in colorado. “we’re gonna fix this, joel. we’re not leaving, i’m not leaving.”
he’s slipping again, eyes glazing over. you can tell he wants to fight with you, but he’s losing the energy for it. for any of it. ellie stills and then tosses his jacket over him in a bid to keep him warm. she fixes you with a look, his look that says stay with him, so you nod solemnly, brushing his hair back from his forehead. you hear her footsteps on the stairs and only when the door shuts behind her do you finally let yourself break, weeping openly over joel’s chest, rising and falling so, so shallowly.
falling in love with this man has been something beautiful, some kind of phoenix rising from the ashes of a long-dead world. over the last few months, you have come to learn the feel of his knuckles brushing against yours, the warmth of his chest against your back when you share a sleeping bag, the sound of his soft breaths as you’ve trekked through miles upon miles of woods and abandoned highways. you have come to appreciate those things, facets of him that only you are privy to, the only person to know the weight of his arm over your waist and feel of his breath against your shoulder.
but in doing so, in reveling in the knowledge that you are the sole person to experience these hidden away pieces of joel miller, you’ve forgotten just how much older he is than you are. that misty gray at his temples and in his beard have been so permanent, you’ve started to believe that he’s always looked like this, that it’s not a marker of his age. you’ve forgotten that he is older and growing frailer by the day, conveniently forgotten how his heart stutters and how his knees act up after hours and miles of walking.
you had always known, of course, that joel would eventually leave you, but not this soon. and not like this.
maybe it’s your fault for putting him on a pedestal: the great, unstoppable joel miller. in your mind, he’s untouchable, some formidable opponent who people fear because he’s strong and knows his way around a fight. it shouldn’t be a chunk of a broken baseball bat that ends his life because it’s not fair, none of this is fair. you’ve been a fool for thinking that the three of you, your unlikely little family, would make it out of this unscathed, for believing that you could live a life like bill and frank’s after this all was over: fulfilling, safe, and the closest resemblance of before.
“god,” you whimper out, still brushing your fingers through his salt and pepper hair. “how could you even consider telling us to leave you here, joel?”
he gazes up at you, blinks slowly, the smallest signs of life that tell you he’s listening and wanting to fight you back about it.
“y’can’t leave me alone here, old man.” a short, wet laugh. “we’ve got so much left to do. i can’t get ellie back to jackson without you. i can’t do anything without you.”
he shakes his head in response and narrows those dark eyes of his just a bit. you read it for what it is: don’t you start talkin’ about yourself like that. he’s always been hard on you for not believing in yourself and your abilities, and it makes you laugh again.
“i mean really, joel. first man i’ve ever loved and you’re telling me to leave you here to die alone in fucking colorado.” you shake your head, looking away to try to blink back tears. “i can’t- i can’t just go. i need you alive.”
you can’t even stop yourself from babbling through the tears, brushing his hair back and wiping away his own tears. even though you should be desensitized to death and loss, you’ve always been particularly sensitive. but you’re young and this is your first love, your only shot at it, and he’s bleeding out on a cold floor because you were too focused on everything else that you hadn’t been able to stop him from getting hurt.
“ain’t your fault,” joel rasps out, eyes shining in the dull winter light. you realize you voiced that, a placing of responsibility that you’d meant for yourself and yourself only. “don’t do that.”
you stare at him and you know what’s going through that head of his. all kinds of thoughts that he wants to voice out loud: it’s not your fault and you were doing the best you could in the situation and this was going to happen sooner or later. damn pessimistic realist, always focusing on the worst possible outcomes than entertaining any kind of optimism.
and in a twisted turn of events, you start to think of your parents, long gone and relegated solely to memory, buried somewhere between atlanta and boston: an optimistic dad and an overwhelmingly realistic mother, so far on opposite ends of a spectrum that they complemented each other perfectly. your dad, ever the poet, had stolen poetry collections from every bookstore he’d came across during your treks from settlement to settlement. his favorite poem, by far, was about the death of a person’s innocence, something always meant to die eventually, perpetually blushing and always coming back a little less pristine each time.
you remember it now as you’re holding joel’s hand with your own, pressing his knuckles against the soft plush of your cheek. you, at least, were built to go, you hear your father’s voice say in your head, which is why you are able to be loved. you haven’t thought about this poem in years, not since you lost him to a runner somewhere in south carolina, but it feels sickening that you’re recalling it now as you’re watching your first and only love die under your hands.
and yet, somehow, it feels comforting, the idea that to be human is to know that one day, a loved one will die, but to know that is to cherish them better, to love them harder. you’re not at all okay with joel dying because you’ve had so little time to love him, but it helps you to cherish those few late nights more, to revel in the memory of his warmth enveloping you on particularly cold nights.
you can let me go. joel’s dark eyes are going glossy again and you smile knowingly at him, still crying. he’s not dead yet and there’s a possibility that he’ll make it out of this alive, the outcome that you’re praying to every god that has ever existed for. you can let me go; it won’t be easy, but you can do it.
ellie’s feet as loud on the old wood stairs as she comes barreling through the door and down the stairwell. she looks rabid as she all but throws herself onto the floor beside joel, ripping the tan coat back and pulling the soaked cloth away. joel’s wound is still gushing blood, a sure sign that he’s well on his way to death, but when ellie makes eye contact with you, you know for sure she’s found something to help. she holds up a needle and spool of thread; she must have torn the entire house apart looking for her hail mary and she found it, she fucking found it. she stares at you, eyes wide and face red, breathing hard, waiting for your go ahead.
when you finally nod at her, fresh tears in your eyes, you look down at joel. his fingers curl around your palm tighter and he’s staring back, his eyes wide. you laugh tearfully, totally and entirely stunned that ellie had actually found a way to help.
“you’re gonna be okay,” you weep, pressing his hand to your forehead, letting your tears drip into your lap. “you’re gonna be okay, joel. just hang on.”
the next few minutes crawl by cruelly, joel surely leaving bruises on your hand from gripping yours too hard, too tight, but you can’t even care because when his hand finally goes slack, ellie is done. her handiwork isn’t so bad and the bleeding has stopped for the most part. when you sigh, it feels like the weight of the world leaves your shoulders, a degree of relief you’ve never felt in your life.
joel, stubborn as always, is fighting unconsciousness as you turn to look back at him and you know it’s because he knows he’s not entirely out of the woods yet. there’s still bleeding to stop, a potential infection to fight, medicine you need to find to keep him safe and healthy, but this has to be good enough for now. it has to be because he’s joel miller and he’s mucked it through gunshot wounds and temporary deafness and all kinds of other shit the world has thrown at him. 
ellie, clearly emotionally gone, stands, her dark eyes empty and her face void of everything save for exhaustion. without even looking at you, she turns towards the stairs and says to nobody, “going for a walk. i need a break.”
her footsteps echo in the stairwell and then creak overhead before she disappears out the front door, leaving you in an empty house with joel and the horse in the garage. you look back to joel, still holding his hand. his face, always so devoid of anything minus annoyance and anger, looks so relieved right now and it makes you want to cry again, but you’re shit out of saline. you lay his hand down beside him before you tuck his winter coat back over him, up to the chin.
there’s not much that you can say, no thoughts come to mind. nothing more than i love you, but you want to save those for when he’s safely out of the thick of this. as true as they are, it’s not the right time, but you’re sure he knows. he must when he scoots his hand out from under the coat and nudges it against your thigh, some gesture that you can’t decode, but that you understand as i’m still here, like he’s able to read your mind. you smile at him softly.
i’ll tell him when this is all over, you reason with yourself as you move to lay beside him, exhaustion finally overtaking you. wherever we end up after ellie is safe with the fireflies, i’ll tell him and he’ll say it back and we’ll be okay.
he can’t turn onto his side, but he turns his head to face you, looking every bit the age of fifty. his eyes are tired and the crinkles of his skin run deep, his cheeks and chin dusted gray. this close, you can see every pock mark, the dip of skin at his temple from some long-forgotten cut, the deep scar that mars the space between his eyebrows. his defenses are down and he looks his age, for the first time in a long time because it’s so easy to forget how old he is when he’s doing the things he does to protect you and ellie.
you scoot in as far as you’ll allow yourself, knees knocking against his legs and your head pillowed on the arm underneath you. you raise a hand and rest it on his cheek, a touch he immediately leans into, like your palm was made to caress his skin. as far as you care, it was. he tilts his head towards you and you find yourself doing the same, foreheads touching. this is one of the small gestures joel allows you on most days, but right now, it feels more monumental than that. like always, it’s a moment shared singularly between the two of you, but it carries so much more weight because he gazes at you with so much more softness and love than he’s ever let himself show before and it reminds you that underneath all that rough exterior, he is a man capable of gentle touches and adoration, no matter how many times the world and himself have tried to beat it out of him.
as his breathing slows, but deepens (a sure sign that ellie has mended the problem for now), you move your arm to rest on his torso, hand pressed into the sturdy spot just above his heart. the beat is steady, solid, a reminder that he’s okay. he was built to go, but now more than ever, you feel he was also built to be yours, to be loved by you. and you’ll make sure he makes it through this, no matter the cost.
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