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f10werfae · 1 year

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Bucky’s Bimbo Babe

pairing: Rich!Bucky Barnes × Maid! Bimbo!Reader

summary: Bucky fucks his cockdrunk maid and makes her his forever, even planting a baby or two in the process, (Mean!Bucky) (Dom!Bucky (Requested by @arxyos )

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated/Disclaimer 18+

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“Fuck doll, come up here and give your man a kiss, I know you want to” Bucky swooned looking at his cockdrunk maid on her knees for him, her cheeks puffed out, full of his milky cum; that was all for her. Her uniform ripped down the middle, exposing her breasts and soft stomach, her swollen clit peeking out of its lips. Letting her cum covered tongue mingle with his.

It all started 2 hours ago when Y/n helped her boss into his house, his metallic arm swaying at his side until she mended him back to help. His cock already twitching seeing her in her uniform, a white shirt two sizes too tight and a skirt which was basically a belt, I mean the man had to have eye candy somewhere; where better than his own home, and a woman that has to tend to his every need.

“S-Sir your uh- your thingy is all stiff again? Would you like me to massage it again?” She said pouting at the mere idea of him being in pain again, the last time his parts had gone all stiff, he had asked her (well more told her) to watch porn in front of him so he could get off to seeing her Pussy leak all over his bedsheets. “Would you do that for me doll? You’re so pretty and nice” He cooed running his thumb over her cheek as he watched her lift up her skirt politely, getting onto both knees in front of him.

“Wait two seconds” He groaned leaning forward and ripping her uniform straight down the middle, I guess one of the perks of having a metallic arm. His grin widening at the sight of her tits, nipples hardened and the soft skin of her stomach on his display, fuck just the thought of how soft she was and how good she smelled got him even harder.

“Okay go on pretty” He sighed feeling her hands slowly fist his cock, her cheek nuzzling against the side of it, letting his pre-cum lather all over her cheeks; wanting nothing more than to be covered in all the milk he had to offer. “You like feeling my cock on your face?” Bucky couldn’t help but stifle a laugh at the frown on her face, his babydoll was never a fan of such vulgar language, preferring to keep things “classy”

“It feels nice n’ warm” Within seconds her lips started sucking onto his bulbous reddened tip, before she opened her mouth with her tongue out, giggling happily as Bucky leant forward and let his spit dribble into her waiting mouth; words of praises leaving his mouth watching her swallow gratefully. Reattaching herself to his cock, she let Bucky’s hands caress the back of her head, his fingers rifling through her hair as he continued to spit praises and mocking insults at her. Occasionally spitting onto her face and smearing it because she was his “dirty girl” and thats “how he liked it”

Y/n hummed at the salty taste of her master, her tongue lapping over his hole before circling his head, her hands stroking whatever bit of his length she couldn’t fit into her mouth; her lips peppering kisses all over it cutely just to tease. “Can feel it twitching sir, you’re feeling better!” She smiled happily, sucking even harder this time, her spit and slobber covered face making her face shine in the soft warm glow of the salt lamp.

“Mhm you’re making me feel so much better sweetheart, fuck, your mouth is so warm and tight; bet your pussy feels even better huh doll?” Y/n didn’t even have enough time to reply before her mouth was stuffed to the brim with all of his milky goodness, some even threatening to spill out, her eyes tearing up as she started to swallow it bit by bit; as Bucky leant forward, beginning to clean up her face by licking it madly before he said.

Her mouth pursed onto his and he tasted himself on her tongue, when finally Y/n took his tongue between her lips and began sucking it as if it was his cock, both their spit landing on each other’s chins as Bucky let his sweet doll take control for once. Her naked pussy lips giving his cock a warm snug hug as she humped on him desperately, her bare tits pressed tight against his chest as she whined and whimpered for more.

“Spit in my mouth baby, just like I did you” He groaned opening his mouth as she shyly leant over and let her tongue dribble into his mouth before he then sucked her tongue in turn, “I think she wants some of my milk too huh? She’s so pretty n’ puffy for me doll”

“Please oh God yes” Y/n breathed out setting herself onto her knees, as Bucky felt his cock enter her hot wet hole, bottoming out inside of her as his heavy balls slapped her pussy with each gentle thrust. The curls nestled at the base of his cock roughly scratching her clit, making her jolt at each sensation. “I’ve got you doll, i’ll take care of you, my sweet girl, would do anythin’ for me wouldn’t you” He cooed smoothing her hair back as she whimpered and bounced herself up and down steadily, her hands palmed onto his chest as he begged for him to kiss her. “Please I need t-to kiss- woah- kiss you while I-I”

“While you what baby?”

“While I fucking cum damn it!” She squealed once his cock hit that one spot inside of her, his fingers reaching behind her to rub at her puckered backdoor, feeling it wink each time her pussy clenched around his length. He’d ruined her purity and ruined her well, that’s what she was made for, him. His cum painted her walls white, just the sheer amount of cum had caused her stomach to feel full, with it already dripping out of her warm honey centre.

Her body rocked back and forth rapidly, riding out her high as Bucky finally gave in and plastered his lips onto hers, pulling away to let the saliva connecting their lips fall onto her full tits. Both of his hands massaging and pushing them together, letting him lick up her cleavage and into her waiting mouth, her tongue outstretched with her eyes practically rolling around her head.

A creamy mix of their juices at the base of his cock where her pussy was still engulfing his length, her walls milking him for all his worth.

“T-too sensitive” She whined as his vibranium thumb started toying and pulling at her rubbed raw clit, her hands clawing at his pecs, her lips drooling onto his shoulder as her mouth gaped open at the amazing burning sensation of overstimulation.

“I know you can give me one more petal, just one more and we can go to bed” Bucky whispered kissing just below her ear, taking in the perfume she was wearing, his other hand rubbing up and down her back soothingly. “Y-your bed? Together?”

“Yes together, and you’re never leaving it, not with the condition you’ll be in” He chuckled watching her mouth form an ‘O’ as he rubbed soft but deep circles onto her swollen nub, his other hand caressing her stomach already imagining her swollen, for him.

——-

PSA: This is my first Bucky fic. EVER. So I hope you guys enjoy it and hopefully i’ll write more for him! Another instalment of the bimbo universe i’ve now created😭

library blog: @f10werfaes-cosy-collection

Bucky Taglist (comment to be added) @marvelloki23 @chrisevansdaughter @angelic-dreams13 @katiemarsblog @sunshinepower17 @namjoons-t1ddies @ameliascreampuffs @mdpplgtz03 @bluemeadows22

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melzula · 3 months

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Hi, i love your stuff! Your writing is AMAZING!

Could you do a sokkaxreader fic, where reader gets majorly hurt saving sokkas life-and she almost dies and super angst but turns sweet/fluff?

-✨anon

a/n: ugh i love angst!!! tysm for requesting this <3

warnings: mentions of blood, injury,

summary: a fight gone wrong leads to an important revelation for you and Sokka

It all had happened so fast.

One minute your group is enjoying a nice breakfast together and the next you’re fighting off Azula and her minions. They’d ambushed you, catching you in a vulnerable position and striking the moment you least expected them to. You had the advantage of numbers against them, but these girls were immensely skilled, so you didn’t have enough of an edge to completely defend yourselves against their attack.

You were assisting Katara in trying to take down Azula when you happened to catch a glance of Sokka from across the way. His back was turned to you and his focus was set on trying to dodge Ty Lee’s chi blocks, so he wasn’t able to detect the blades that were being aimed in his direction. Your eyes widened with panic as you quickly make your way towards him; you wouldn’t be fast enough to stop Mai from throwing the knives, but you’d at least be fast enough to get in their path and stop them from hitting your friend.

“Sokka, move!” You urged, shoving him out of the way and effectively knocking over Ty Lee in the process as well. You weren’t given the time to process anything else as you immediately felt the blades make contact with your skin, digging themselves deep into your back. You cried out in agony before immediately collapsing to the ground, all while Sokka watched on in horror.

“Y/n!” He screamed before scrambling to your side. The fabric of your top was beginning to turn a deep red, and you could already begin to feel the effects of blood loss take over. Your vision was hazy and your body felt cold, and yet you were still able to make out the features of his face as he stared down at you with tears in his eyes.

“Just hang on, I’m going to get you out of here!” He insisted, some of his tears landing on your face. You couldn’t find the strength to muster up a response, so instead you simply let your eyes close and allowed the cold to consume you whole.

When you regain consciousness again you find yourself in a tent. Everything hurts and your body feels like it’s on fire, and yet you can’t find the strength to move. Blurry faces hover over you and muffled voices fill your ears, but no matter how hard you try you can’t make sense of any of your surroundings.

“-more water. I need more water!”

“Why isn’t it working?!”

A sharp pulse jolts up your spine and this time you do cry out in pain, effectively startling the figures in the tent.

“Y/n!” A voice cries. Sokka’s voice.

He’s beside you in an instant, kneeling before you and taking your hand tightly in his own. You’ve never seen him like this, so distraught and terrified. You wonder what happened when you passed out.

“Try to stay awake, okay? Please stay awake,” he begs you before looking frantically to his sister. “She doesn’t look any better!”

“Sokka, I’m doing everything I can here!” His sister shouts back, equally distressed as she exerts all of her energy into healing you. Progress is there but it’s slow, and she worries that if she isn’t fast enough the damage may be permanent. Why did the blades have to hit your spine so perfectly?

“Sokka…” you murmur quietly, your eyes beginning to feel heavy yet again.

“No, no, no, y/n, look at me! Don’t go back to sleep!”

But his pleas fall on deaf ears, and you’re swept back under.

You’re not sure how much time has passed since you were last conscious, but the lamp beside you must mean that it’s grown dark outside. You feel warm, the sharp pain is gone, and all that is left behind is a sense of exhaustion from your adrenaline inducing day. You try to sit up only to immediately collapse due to the soreness of your back, but at least you’re able to move now.

“Hey, it’s okay, don’t move,” Sokka insists, alerting you of his presence beside you. You feel his palm carefully lift the back of your head towards the bowl of water he holds in his other hand, allowing you to take greedy gulps until you’re satisfied. “Katara says you shouldn’t try to get up yet or you’ll strain yourself. Your body is still adjusting.”

“What happened? How long have I been asleep?” You ask groggily.

“About twelve hours,” he replies sullenly, and it isn’t until this moment that you’re able to detect the exhaustion present on his features. “Those blades dug right through your skin and into your spine. Katara spent hours healing you; for a minute we thought you might not make it or that maybe you’d live but be paralyzed for the rest of your life. Why did you do it?”

“What?”

“Why did you do it?” Sokka says more firmly this time. “How could you do something so stupid like that?! You could’ve died!”

“It’s not stupid to risk my life for someone I love,” you correct him with a faint smile. Your admission takes him by surprise, his face immediately growing hot and his mind actually at a loss for words for once.

“You… you love me?” He asks gently, almost as if he doesn’t believe you.

“I thought it was obvious, dummy.”

“Not to me!” He cries defensively. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know,” you admit with a small shrug. “I guess there’s never really been a good time; there’s always another fight to win or people to save. It just didn’t feel right.”

“I guess you’re right,” he murmurs faintly. “But I’m glad you told me now, and I’m glad you’re alive. Because I can’t stand to lose another person that I love.”

You smile tiredly at his words, a new sense of understanding now being shared between you both. You love each other, and neither of you can stand to lose the other. This is real now, and you’re in it for the long haul.

He presses a kiss to your forehead then and urges you to get some more rest, and so you do. And Sokka stays planted right beside you to keep watch over you in your vulnerable state. In that moment he swears he’ll never let anything like this happen to you again.

And that’s a promise he intends to keep for a lifetime.

#sokka #sokka x reader #sokka imagine #atla #atla x reader #atla imagine #avatar the last airbender #request #✨ anon #angst #fluff

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burnyouwithacigarettelighter · 9 months

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HONEY, I’M HOME ─── jackson rippner ✧♤

ೃ⁀➷ “You are the knife I turn inside myself; that is love. That, my dear, is love.” — ‘Letters to Milena’, Franz Kafka

pairing. jackson rippner x assassin!reader

summary. jackson hires a prostitute the night before meeting his target. only thing is, you’re not a prostitute— you’re an assassin hired to kill him. but he catches your eye, and instead, you keep him for yourself.

warnings. swearing, creampie, p in v, unprotected sex, slight housewife kink, kidnapping, drugging, pretty toxic relationship lmao, somnophilia, dubcon, hate-sex kinda, guns, choking, stockholm syndrome, cervix fucking, jackson gets a taste of his own medicine basically😭, SMUT UNDER THE CUT!

word count. 6.1k

a/n. OKAY i know i said it was going into the direction of dom!reader but i got possessed and now,,, now we have this hate sex filth🫡

When Jackson comes to, the very first thing his mind registers in your perfume. It’s sweet and vanilla-y and entirely intoxicating, sending his mind whirling back to prehistoric days, childhood days, a vague mother figure he’d long forgotten about pressing sugar cookie dough onto a metal pan.

Instead, as Jackson’s eyes fluttered open and adjusted to the bright, warm lamp-light curling around him and the various furniture in the room, he sees you, sitting in front of him on the floor.

Your knees are pulled up and tucked under your chin, and it seems you’ve fallen asleep, your face peaceful and serene as soft inhales and exhales of breath leave you.

You look like a pure angel, dolled up in a silk lace dress and neat bows so pristinely Jackson swore he could see a halo resting above your soft locks, but he knows you’re someone who can kill — has killed.

Jackson had been staying in a motel, readying himself to meet the target he was stalking the next day — some politico's daughter, y’know, perfect blackmail material — when you’d knocked on his door, dressed in a skanky skintight dress and garter belt, promising some fun for a flimsy fifty.

Prostitution was illegal in this state, but Jackson had some money and time to kill — plus, if he didn’t get something now he’d probably fuck his target, which wasn’t really encouraged considering he could get attached, all that bullshit job professionalism. He wouldn’t, obviously, but his higher-ups didn’t think the same.

So he agreed; you looked stupid enough, and with that nice pair on you, those sweet curves, you were bound to be a good fuck. And you were definitely enough for him to handle— handle killing, he meant. It’d be easy: get you a little tipsy ‘cause it was his “kink” or some shit like that, kill you when you’re coming, dispose of your body, and meet the target in the morning.

But then you’d kissed him, hungry and desperate and rough, and totally, completely, slipping the pill tucked under your tongue down his throat.

Jackson realized immediately, his hands darting to the gun he had tucked in his belt, but you punched him in the stomach and the jaw before he could even undo the safety. And then he’d done it: he’d swallowed the drug, and the effects were instantaneous, the connection between his thoughts and his limbs losing focus, body sluggish like he was wading through water.

So suddenly had the situation had gone from him hiring a prostitute to getting fucking drugged by one, and he felt his composure slipping, the outrage burning in his lungs. Jackson thought himself to be a logical, well-thought out man who planned things to the tee, and this was not fucking following his plan.

“What did you - do t’ me?!” He spat, voice growing slurred, bent over and clutching his stomach.

“Mm,” you considered telling him, pursing your lips and watching him sway back and forth, “just a little something to calm you down. But, honey, I think you better sit down… it's not a mild drug.”

“Answer my fucking—“ Jackson started caustically, then felt that familiar pins and needles sensation appear in his arms, then spread to his legs, before finally falling to the floor.

“See?” You cooed, standing above him. You watched him struggle against the drug for a moment, before grinning and pulling him up off the floor onto the bed.

Jackson listlessly fought your touch, slowly thrashing and kicking at you; his limbs may have grown numb, but his inhibitions had not lowered whatsoever, nor his paranoia. Good paranoia, in this situation, just not so good that it kicked in before you shoved a paralytic down his throat.

You rolled your eyes, sitting down beside him and pushing his head onto your lap, digging your elbow into his chest to make him stay in place.

Jackson choked at the pressure, blinking rapidly. “Who th- the -- fuck are you?”

“I’m an assassin, honey. I’m gonna kill you — or, y’know, I’m supposed to kill you.” You beamed at him, “but I can’t do that, now can I? That’d be a waste of such a pretty face.”

Jackson’s brows knitted exasperatedly, mouth contorting to speak, but nothing came out. In fact, his mouth hadn’t been moving at all— his face had grown numb, now blankly staring up at you.

“There we go,” you said happily. “The drug’s all kicked in now, hasn't it? I’ll speak freely, ‘cause y’can’t answer me anymore, not even scream or cry.”

You sighed, your shoulders slumping like you were finally able to fucking relax, and began petting his hair before continuing. “You’re a naughty one, aren’t you? Stalking that politician’s daughter… were you gonna fuck her? Threaten her dad, have some fun, then kill them both?”

Jackson’s breathing grew more furious, eyes widening— or, they would’ve, if he could move. This was about his job, about the target, not just some fucking freak accident and a crazy prostitute.

You frowned, shaking your head. “You’ve gotta do more research on the people you blackmail, honey— Mr. Politican’ll do anything to keep his little princess safe. Even murder.”

You then got up, and Jackson watched you pull something out of your tights, unable to respond or protest or even fucking move, frozen still on the cheap motel mattress.

“But like I said, you’re too cute to die like that. I think I’ll keep you for myself.” You winked, before pricking him in the neck with the needle that was hidden in your tights.

His breath hitched, but there was no use: black quickly curled into the edges of his vision, and one second passed, then another, then he was out.

That brought him back to now, waking up with his arms handcuffed behind him and his legs tied roughly to a wooden chair. He rustled, pulling against the cuffs as quietly as possible, gaze still obsessively trained on your every micro-movement.

But it didn't matter: your eyes opened the moment you’d heard his breath catch and stutter, and you got up lightly, dreamily, like you were some figment of Jackson’s imagination rather than a psychopathic kidnapping assassin.

“Morning, honey,” you whispered, getting up off the floor, rubbing your eyes and yawning. But he didn’t respond, still pulling at his restraints, eyes thinned and focussed.

“Are you mad at me?” You whined with a frown, circling around his chair and playfully covering his eyes. “I’ll make it up to you, don’t worry. I’ll buy some cute lingerie, give you a little show… do you like lace? Or maybe leather?”

Jackson’s nostrils flared, growing irate and incredulous at your antics, and he snapped. “Do you really think you can keep me here? Make me play fucking house with you?” He shouted groggily, body still feeling the aftereffects of not one, but two, drugs.

You blinked numbly, hand finding his face, and you pressed his cheeks together, making him look up at you. “I won’t make you play house with me, Jackson. But it's the only thing you can do. You’re dead.”

Your tone had gone cold, using his real name instead of your pet-one, expression going blank and completely unfeeling at his words. Then, you fumbled for something on the wooden vanity beside you two before lifting it up to his face.

It read: TERRORIST GROUP LEADER’S REMAINS FOUND IN RED-EYE FLIGHT WRECK.

Jackson’s lips parted, feelings riddled half in shock and half in utter fury, gaze shaky as it flitted back and forth between you and the newspaper you were holding up. “I’m fucking—“

“Alive, I know. That’s kinda the point,” you finished his sentence with a chuckle, shaking your head like any of this was a joking matter. “When a plane goes down and catches fire, burning everybody, they won’t individually check who's who, honey. If there’s a name on the seat, there’s someone in it, and they’re dead… you’re as good as dead.”

Jackson’s eyebrows were still knit, but he suddenly stared straight ahead, listening to you silently and trying to make sure you were still too focussed on explaining theatrically to realize he was about to dislocate his thumb.

He could deal with the stool later — he just needed to get his arms free and escape. What with your grating voice and the fucking pronunciation of death you’d forced upon him, god, his fury was rising quickly, and he wanted nothing more right now than to fucking kill you.

You finished your explanation, peering deeply into his bright blue eyes, and you were about to wrap your arms around his neck and press him comfortingly to your chest when he successfully freed himself, and his hands shot out from behind him to strangle you.

His fingers curled around your neck extremely easily, tightening and contracting around the thing snugly. Jackson was seeing red, the anger accumulated from every little insane fucking thing you did to him bursting.

You struggled against him, your mouth opening and closing pitifully, leaning down into his grip— until your lips tilted upwards, a devilishly cheshire smile digging into your cheeks like it was an expression God never intended you to make.

Jackson only realized you’d taken his gun away from him when he felt the tip of the barrel kiss his temple, cold and clammy. He was still disoriented, and didn’t exactly comprehend all the facts ‘till they fucking punched him in the face. Or, in this case, threatened to shoot him point blank.

“L’mme - l’mme go, h’ney,” you whispered raspily, your eyes stuttering in their socket as he pressed deeper. Simultaneously, completely on instinct, you pressed the gun further into his skin.

“You’re too fucking weak to fire that gun,” he growled, digging his thumbs into the neat notch in the middle of your neck, his fingernails scratching bloody marks into your sensitive skin.

But you frowned weakly, and then Jackson heard that all familiar click, making him blanch. The strength in his hands didn’t falter, however— it got angrier, more desperate, like you wouldn’t automatically shoot him if he just translated his wrath into his grip.

“I d’nt- w’nna k-kill you,” you shook your head a bit, but both your threats remained the same: his hands making you go lightheaded, go blue, and the gun in yours making him sweat, the image of you splattering his brain against the wall clear as day.

Jackson felt your finger twitch, and he closed his eyes, grip going tense then faltering completely: if you shot him now, there was no point holding on. But you did the same— you thought he’d snap your neck right then and there, so you pulled away.

Just as quickly as you two had attacked one another, your resolves’ had crumbled, murderous intent clearing the room like someone had opened a window and let it all out. Silence filled it back up instead, a steady tension permeating with it, and it was fucking suffocating.

“What do you - want from me, exactly?” Jackson questioned first, several long moments later, words slow and collected. He’d try to calm himself and hide his anger away for later, because he now knew that you meant for him to meet only two ends here: forever with you, or forever dead— and neither were ends he was intending to have.

To escape, crawl under your nose and perhaps kill you along the way, he’d need to know the rules— play your little game. This cat and mouse mess could be done in a flash, and he fucking knew you had a weakness. He could feel it in your touch, how you gripped him, the lonely warble in your insane words.

Sure, you kidnapped him and were calling him honey, treating him like he was your plaything, but Jackson had always been good at reading people, even before he’d become an amalgamated mess of an assassin, terrorist and blackmailer: you needed someone in your life— be it a husband or a hostage.

You got down on one knee, looking up at him through your wet lashes, breathing still ragged. One of your hands took his own dislocated one, while the other fished through your silk dress pockets, pulling out a gold band ring identical to the one gleaming prettily on your left hand.

You didn’t answer his question saying for you to marry me or for you to love me— both things Jackson would expect you to say, especially with your oddly profound obsession with him (despite the fact he was positive you’d only known him for a few weeks at most.) No, you’d smiled, a lovely duchenne one, rosy-cheeked like a fucking schoolgirl confessing to her crush, not an assassin who’d kidnapped him, and said, “For you to be mine.”

Your hand curled around his dislocated thumb and quickly snapped it, cruel and rough but perfectly back in place, before you slipped the ring onto his finger shakily, and brought his hand up to your lips to press a kiss to his knuckles.

“You’re mine,” you repeated in a whisper, sounding every bit like a warning rather than a celebration.

ii.

After a few days of living with— or, more accurately, being held captive by you, Jackson thought he had you all figured out. It usually only took a few days for him and a target to become acquainted anyway; mutual acquaintance or not.

He found that the warmer he treated you, the more freedom he’d have. Like, after you slipped the ring on his finger, you undid the ropes tying his legs. A reward, you’d said, for accepting your… unity.

But you still switched out the clinky metal cuffs for zip ties. “I can’t have you doing that nifty little thumb trick anymore, can I?” you explained. “But I still want you to walk around. Take a tour of the rest of your life, honey.”

Then, you told him you had to go to work — to which Jackson rolled his eyes, considering assassination wasn’t exactly what he’d call work, though, he would also have to call himself a hypocrite — and left. Jackson wasn’t shy about roaming about the house, especially to look for a fucking escape, but he was firstly confronted with the sheer size of the place you’d locked him in.

Where he’d first waken up was the master bedroom, long and wide with a king poster bed and canopy, a pair of couples vanities side by side, two walk-in closets and one large ensuite. The rest of the house was the same, being two stories tall and terribly extensive: Jackson ran out of fingers on his hands to count how many rooms were in it.

By the time he’d combed through the entire house — discovering a measly two possible escape routes in the process — it was dark outside, and you entered through a front door Jackson couldn’t find for the fucking life of him.

It was appalling, firstly how spontaneous and carefree you were whilst simultaneously thinking of everything that could go wrong, and secondly, how up to par your skills were to his. He wasn’t one to gloat, but he knew just as well as his coworkers that he was a large step above the rest— and it seemed you were, too, the only equal he’d encountered in his line of work… and the only person who’d bested him.

“Honey, I’m home!” You sing-songed in the hallway, poking your head into each and every room for Jackson’s familiar form.

Jackson had settled back in the master bedroom, sitting on the very chair you’d untied him from that morning, and when you finally found him you cooed. “Aw, baby, you don’t hafta’ stay here all day.” You said, lifting his chin to look up at you.

Jackson grit his teeth, his temper suddenly getting the best of him, and he spat at you. But the effect didn't work nearly as well as intended: you didn’t even wince, merely blinking and bringing two fingers to your cheek and wiping the slick off. You pouted at him for a second, made your eyes real big and pitiful, before kissing him on the cheek… and shoving your spit-slicked fingers into his mouth, making him gag.

It looked like you were enjoying his suffering, before pulling away a moment later. “Well, no matter,” you said, brushing his actions off and regaining your happy mood. “I know you weren’t really here all day, honey.”

Jackson’s lips parted, eyes thinning suspiciously. “What the fuck are you—“

You suddenly pulled out your phone, showing camera angles from all throughout the house… and more startlingly, previous footage of him, scouring the house’s windows and poking through the various furniture and rooms earlier in the day. “You are quite the curious cat.”

“You have a camera?” He asked indignantly. Honestly, he should’ve expected it: it’s like, what do you get when you have a captive itching to escape and an obsessive, head-over-heels captor with plenty of money on her hands?

“Several,” you preened, “so don’t bother escaping.”

Then, you hooked your arm into his and dragged him to one of the (many, many) dining rooms.

“Now, I’ve never exactly had a hostage before,” you offered, pushing him into one of your cushy walnut dining chairs, “so I just realized you haven’t eaten. God, I’m so sorry, honey, you must be starving.”

With that, you ducked into the large kitchen a room away, and then returned holding a steaming plate of something, setting the dish down in front of him. “It’s not exactly, y’know, fine dining,” you said, picking up the spoon hidden in the food and scooping up some peas, “but it’s home-cooked. Not my home cooking, obviously, it is -- was, a target’s. I had a plate earlier, don’t worry, it’s good.”

Jackson stared at you, mind spinning with the information you were nonchalantly throwing at him: you were feeding him, your hand holding the cutlery, his mouth around it like he was fucking six, and the person who had made this food was dead, having had their throat slit or something.

But there was another thing in Jackson’s mind, a tiny, weak voice within him that told him to just shut the hell up and eat the damn food. His survival instinct, probably, but then it went on to think that you weren’t that bad, feeding him and keeping him safe from the police in this nice, grand house— and Jackson squished the voice. No fucking way in hell was he experiencing early stage stockholm syndrome.

At his reluctance, you frowned, and forced the spoonful in his mouth. “Eat,” you scolded, and fed him till the whole plate was finished.

He ate, of course, not because of the little bitch voice in his head, but because of the fact that he actually was really fucking hungry. The gesture seemed to warm your heart, for some fucked up reason, and you later sat in the livingroom with him and loosened his zipties.

There was a brief moment, however, that Jackson felt even an iota of fear: when his hands were slightly free, he immediately reached to grab you— he was taller, stronger, and could certainly defeat you in mere moments.

But your sneaky fingers tightened his restraints at the drop of a hat, your head butting his jaw so he fell back on the couch. “Try anything,” you warned, tone suddenly dark, “and I will break your fucking wrist.”

At his tentative, jaw slightly dropped, shaky nod, a cold sweat beaming down from his temple, you dissolved into a fit of laughter at his expression and undid his ties once more. This time, your hand held his in an intimate death grip, thumb curled sweetly around the wrist, that warning still ringing in his head.

He was learning how to play the game, though. His captor’s behavior. What you liked, what you didn’t. The extent of your mercy.

Jackson cleared his throat, searching for a question that might make you open up. “…What’s your name, anyway?” Yes, he didn’t even know your fucking name, and he doubted that the tacky prostitute name you’d given him initially was your real one.

You looked up at him, surprised he’d speak first, nonetheless to know more about you. So, you indulged, and told him your name, things you liked, didn’t like, your hobbies… all normal people stuff— y’know, first date stuff.

“I keep forgetting you don’t know a thing about me,” you confessed, leaning your head on his stiff figure, “‘cause I’ve known you for a very long time.”

Jackson’s breath hitched. “How so?” he said, trying not to give away his eagerness; he was going through all the steps he did when first meeting a target, like being kind and sweet, respectful and attentive, really buttering them up and coaxing information from them, before going in for the kill. In Jackson’s current case, the “kill” was a kiss.

It’d be something chaste, nervous, like he was unwittingly slipping into your trap and couldn’t help the warmth bubbling within him toward you, so you would fall into his; hook, line, and sinker… and maybe completely undo his zipties. He’d have to lay low for a few days, obviously, and build up that obsessive trust of yours, before going in for the literal kill.

But then again, Jackson, with that delirious little ego of his, kept forgetting your skills were up to par with his, and you were the first and only person to ever fucking best him.

You grinned thinly, knowing exact what he was doing, noticed the pattern his words went in, trying to shepherd the conversation to get the answers he wanted, and you pulled away from him. “I’ll tell you another day, honey. M’gonna go to bed,” you whispered sleepily, redoing his zipties. “Join me. I don’t like it when you tire yourself out.”

And so you left, and Jackson watched your hips sway, legs carrying you down the long hallway into the master bedroom. As soon as you were out of direct view, he sucked in a sharp breath, seething angrily.

Fuck, he thought, the realization of his predicament settling within in him at last. He’d always been told this: if you didn’t believe you could escape your situation within the first day, you would never escape at all. He thought it a silly mantra, because he’d always devised an escape plan after thinking on it for a few long moments.

Never did he think he’d find himself in a situation where that actually fucking applied, never did he think he’d meet his equal, and never in his entire, terrorizing existence, did he think he’d be helpless.

But Jackson had to persevere. Had to. He had not survived every terrible incident thrown at him in his tired lifetime, just to accept this. And so, he went to bed with you, the zipties rubbing his pale skin raw, and he watched the shadows on the roof shift with every hour that passed.

He did not sleep, certainly not with you by his side, and though it looked like it, you did not either. It was the paranoia of two terribly similar people; gaze dancing in the dark and never finding each others, waiting for the moment one of you snapped and you had to attack or defend.

The next day, and the next day after that, he went to bed beside you. Just like that, turned into weeks turned into months turned into seasons changing, and the zipties became cloth became your hand holding his.

It was a culmination of feigned loving, fake vulnerability, and pretending he’d gotten Stockholm syndrome that got him to this point. Every “honey, i’m home,” or kiss or hug or pet-name you stabbed into him, he returned with a “welcome home, honey”, a peck on the cheek, a hand holding yours, his venomous tone switched like a light into something sweet, soft.

One night, with his newly ziptie-free arms wrapping around you, your back nestling sweetly against his torso, he has to remind himself that it is not real. None of it was real: he was not your husband, you were not his wife, you did not love each other, you were not normal fucking people— you were the captive and the captor.

Jackson had to remind himself he didn’t actually love you, because that night he thought: if you used him, he would use you. He would take you whenever he wanted, like how you used him. A man has needs, he thought, and being trapped in this house with you meant those needs could be met.

It reminded him of when you first met— not the kidnapping part, of course, but of the kissing and the touching, your tits pressing softly against his chest, his hands following the swell of your ass.

With a start, he realized he’d had some kind of unintentional celibacy enacted upon him: he couldn’t fuck anyone other than you, obviously, having been trapped in that house, but he never entertained the idea of fucking you because he hated you. You don’t fuck the bitch you’re planning to kill any day now.

But your warm body against his awoke something in him, his forced celibacy unable to survive against the pure lust he felt filling him now. You were beautiful, undeniably, with pliant thighs and delicate curves he could see himself getting between animalistically, roughly, a kind of morbid sexual revenge against your captivity of him. It helped entirely that this was the most vulnerable he’d seen you, completely without any weapons, curled warmly into his side.

After studying your breathing for a few seconds, ensuring you were still asleep, Jackson carefully slipped away from you to kneel in front of you in the middle of the bed. He admired your night getup: those silk dresses you adored to wear at home, and absolutely no underwear.

He then pried your soft thighs open slightly, dipping his head between them and losing himself in the sweet scent of your cunt, before chancing a stripe up to your clit. He flattened his tongue, wanting to collect your taste on it completely, and you merely sighed, turning over slightly and widening your legs in your sleep, like you somehow knew what he was doing and wanted it.

He pressed his mouth up to your cunt fully now, his nose hitting your mound as he devoured you, tongue filling every crevice and fold you had like he was starving. Your small whimpers and breathy sighs grew louder now, more frequent, and then Jackson suddenly pulled away, satisfied with how he readied your hole.

Jackson shimmed himself out of his boxer shorts, a pair with silly little hearts he’d never seriously buy for himself— you bought them, as soon as you’d captured him, clearly having fun with the utter control you could display on him, down to his fucking undergarments.

He shook himself slightly, refocussing on the matter at hand: fucking into your glistening cunt. There was something oddly empowering about doing this to you when you couldn’t protest, regaining some control over his own fucking life by terrorizing yours.

But he wasn’t sure you’d fucking care anyway: he knew you liked to peek around the corner when he was showering, “accidentally” walking in when he was in the middle of changing, not-so subtly bending down and pressing your ass to his crotch.

He sighed slightly, rubbing his hand up and down on his hard length in the dark, before lining it up with your entrance. Jackson muffled the groan that curdled in his throat with his large hand, breathing shakily and finally pushing past your slick folds. You were soaking, and he didn’t know if it was because of his previous foreplay or if you were just naturally like this, all horny because he slept beside you at night. He wouldn’t put it past you if that was the case: your obsession with him was clear in every single way.

You made a noise in your sleep, and Jackson froze, hands instinctively coming up to press lightly against your throat — an unconscious thing on his part, formed when his hands had been zip tied and the only thing he could do was choke you, unable to grip any weapon properly. But you didn’t wake up; your face merely screwed together, before smoothing out and returning to blissful unconsciousness.

Jackson let out a sigh of pleasure and relief, your walls clenching around his pulsing cock. He gripped the sheets beside your head and began thrusting in and out of you: at first gently, afraid to wake you up, but as the minutes dripped past, Jackson grew desperate, fucking into your cunt roughly. He wanted to abuse your tight little pussy, stretch you wide open and take you for everything you had.

“Fuck,” he grunted under his breath, snapping his hips harder against yours, “Fuck!”

His exclamation of sexual satisfaction startled you awake, but he didn’t notice how your eyes moved behind your eyelids, too focussed on pounding his rock-hard cock into you. For all the insanity and behavioral issues God gave you, he certainly made up for it in the way he crafted your cunt: extremely warm and easily wet, a sticky hole that sucked him in but was still cramped, like it was begging him to force your walls open.

“Honey?” you murmured foggily, wrapping your arms around his neck. You were about to speak again, when Jackson suddenly found your g-spot, and rammed continually into it, making a filthy mewl leave your lips.

“Fuck, you woke up?” Jackson cursed, looking at you for the first time. His thrusts were unrelenting, though, now not caring if you’d woken up and just wanting to feel your hole squeeze around him again.

“Jackson, I was - sleeping,” you squeaked out, hands moving to his back and digging your nails into the skin.

“That’s kinda the point,” Jackson mocked, tone sarcastic and peeved like you were interrupting him. “And don’t fucking fight it,” he warned angrily, hand leaving the mattress and roughly squeezing one of your tits through the fabric of your nightdress, “‘cause I’m not stopping ‘till I come.”

You pouted fake-sadly at his words, but your back arching gave you away, keening when he kneaded your tit too meanly and made a shock of pain run up your body. “Feels so good,” you grinned sweatily, but he just rolled his eyes.

“Shut up,” he sighed, throwing his head back, “didn’t fucking ask what you thought.”

He pushed your face to the side so he was looking at your jaw, more content with treating you like just some hole, but you didn’t care: he, your darling, was fucking you. He wanted you so bad he fucked you when you weren’t even awake. God, you could’ve kissed him right then and there, but he probably would’ve hit you. (Not that you would mind… but you wanted your honey to take control, have it his way for a bit.)

Jackson rutted into you fast and selfish, your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the violent way he fucked you: your sick pleasure came at the expense of your weeping cunt, which was trembling in the stinging pain he was inflicting, cockhead stretching you wide.

Then, Jackson’s hands slid down to your hips, so he could shove his cock deeper into your cunt, pressing his weight so heavily onto your chest you could barely breathe. He groaned; you were clearly affected by the action, bearing down on his cock suddenly, and he reveled in the ecstacy.

He fucked you slightly and slower, and you only realized what he’d been doing when he leaned down to get a better angle, bullying the head of his cock against your cervix: he was trying to fuck into you further, push his dick so close, so snug against your womb that there was no doubt in hell his load would impregnate you. His actions were dictated not by any sense of reason, but by a crude, carnal desire, wanting nothing more but to make you scream.

And you did scream alright, a breathy, brutal scream; a mix of whimpering pain at the way his head pushed against you, and of shameful, drooling pleasure, his delicious length making you feel fucking bloated, you were so full.

One of Jackson’s hands reached up to your head to pull your hair, making you whine at the pain of the tug, and he growled out a string of curse words, before thrusting his cock so angrily it was like a punishment, surely bruising your cervix, and releasing his thick load deep inside. His come flooded your cunt, pumping you full of his salty cream, fucking you still.

Jackson then panted raggedly, feeling your gummy walls tense at the pain of him pulling out, flopping down beside you. “Does it hurt?” he asked you absently, pulling his boxer shorts back up to his hips.

You bit your lip as you clenched your thighs together, whining slightly at the pain blooming deep within your abused cunt, and at the loss of pleasure— you hadn’t come after all, Jackson being entirely selfish in his fucking. “Uh-huh,” you murmured weakly, feeling the strength in your body leave you completely. “You’re a mean one, honey.”

“Good,” Jackson said, chuckling darkly. It was the first laugh you’d heard rumble out of him the entire time you’d held him captive, and you drank it in: it was pleasant and breezy, like cold water on a hot day. It was certainly out of place, such a gleeful laugh after savagely fucking you, but you welcomed it anyway.

Jackson suddenly grabbed you by the waist, pulling you flush to his chest. “M’gonna use your hole whenever I want, and you’re gonna take my cock no matter what, ‘till you’re begging me to stop,” he growled in your ear, making goosebumps break out on your clammy skin. “Least you can do for fuckin’ kidnapping me, you psychotic bitch.”

“Oh,” you purred, batting your lashes up at him, “it’d be my pleasure to be your fucktoy.”

Jackson grinned, at you, for you, and you thought to yourself that kidnapping him was the best thing you ever fucking did.

iii.

Somewhere, muddled between you kidnapping him, the two of you almost killing eachother, and him fucking you dumb, Jackson caved, and he started to believe he actually loved you. His mind didn’t have any qualms accepting that you were his new life— living in your house, only knowing you, and only ever talking to you.

Maybe it was stockholm syndrome, or those delicious fantasies you’d whisper in his ear at night (“Y’know, honey, it’s really you who should be saying you’re home. What do you think, huh? You coming home from a long day of work to me, in my panties and an apron, no bra and a sweet, home-cooked meal on the table. Dessert’ll be, of course, me,”) or maybe it was just you.

You, despite your terrible job and seriously obvious insanity, being the epitome of fuckable: horny when he was, a talented, needy mouth, able to take anything he gave you to while always going back to being tight as fuck, and intensely eager to have him.

You, who controlled his life, and he, who controlled you. The way you treated each other was probably illegal somewhere, but in that house not even the fucking law mattered. (You still remember when Jackson got his gun back, and he teased your clit with the cold tip till you creamed down the barrel… a terribly memorable story that always made you groan.)

Jackson was extremely well aware that there was something strange about your relationship, and not just the fact it occurred in the strangest way possible, but that he was essentially giving up to you— losing his inhibitions, at least against you. Something about… putting his well being in your hands. His needs. His wants. His life. Spending the rest of his life with you; in this house, accepting life and no escape.

But still, for a man like Jackson, who had long since accepted that he wasn’t cut out for a life of normalcy, a life of love, this certainly wasn’t a bad way of living. He had a house nicer than anything he’d ever lived in, didn’t have to work, could do whatever he wanted all day, and got to pound his cock into your perfect little pussy every single night.

#wowee this has a lot of words and a lot of warnings #this is filthy i apologize #cillian murphy smut #jackson rippner smut #jackson rippner x reader #jackson rippner x reader smut #red eye #jackson rippner

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beababoobies · 4 months

Note

Hope this is alright, I'm new to requesting ! But per chance could you write some sir pentious x warm!reader ? Like the reader is warm to the touch and the snake man likes to stay close since hes cold blooded.. up to you if want them to have an established relationship or have it as a crush !! Totally understand if you dont wish to write it/gen

Have a lovely day!

THIS IS CUTE GAHHHHHHH !1!11!1! YEAHHH!!! I love snake man and one of my special interests is reptiles and they silly little heat lamps. Absolutely. I went with an established relationship for this one and I hope you don’t mind. Enjoy! :)

Warmth

words : 1k pairing ; Sir Pentious x Reader

Pentious loved touch in general - it was reassuring, nice, and it made him feel human all over again. But he loved when you touched him. Hell was already a pretty warm climate, but he loved how warm it was in your arms. Your skin felt comforting, like his own personal heat lamp.

Every time you slept in the same bed, he would always slither into your arms with you wrapped right around him like a koala. He loves feeling the body head from your chest straight against his, considering how cold it got in the hotel some nights. You were always warm - his little furnace.

Sometimes, even while just doing rehabilitation exercises, he’d ask you to cup your hands around his face for a couple seconds, which would always turn into a couple minutes, until Charlie called you two back to keep participating in trust falls or sharing circles. When you two cuddled, he’s always quickly to put his hands under your shirt. Not even in a sexual way, he just loves how warm it is right under there.

There are times when you have to pry him off you, but it’s not often enough for you to care. Sometimes you’ll be eating dinner and he’ll try to nuzzle up to you, rubbing his cheek against yours, only for you to gently remind him you’re trying to eat.

One time during trust falls, he wouldn’t let go of you after he caught you. Charlie and Vaggie had to convince him that he’d get you back in a second, but it was his turn. It took him ten minutes to get off. And even then, he would only do the trust fall if you caught him. You can’t lie and say that went very well.

One of your favourite memories; a warm Sunday afternoon, his tail wrapped around one of your legs and hands under your shirt, on the bare skin of your back, head nestled into the crook of your neck, and chest pressed up against yours to get the maximum warmth. The sun is peeking out from the window and making you even warmer. He’s practically in heaven.

You were already asleep, snoring softly as your body, heavy with sleep, radiated all the warmth he swears he could ever need, chest rising and falling softly against his. He wants to look back, see how adorable you look asleep and out of it, but the warmth of your neck against his cheek is too much to miss out on.

It goes by like this for a few hours - cuddled up to you and listening to your pulse and soft snores, not even daring to fall asleep and miss out on how comfortable and at peace he feels, until you wake up. You sit up, immediately hearing his sleepy protests from behind you before you get pulled right back into his arms.

“Well, good afternoon to you too.” You mumble sleepily with a giggle, as he mumbles your greeting back into the skin of your neck, and you gently place your hand on the back of his head, softly petting him and feeling him relax back into you, his cold scales pressed up against your warm skin making you smile.

“Do you love me or how warm I am, huh?” You joke with a smile on your face, only to watch him pull back with worry in his eyes, shaking his head rapidly. “I love you for sssso many other reasssonsss!” He says, concerned as your burst out giggling, watching as his expression turns from concerned and panicked to confused.

“I was joking, baby. I’m happy to be your little heating lamp, my love.” You mumbled softly as you press a kiss to his forehead, watching him relax his head onto your chest, letting out a sigh of relief as he closes his eyes again.

“You’re my favourite heat lamp…” he mumbles out quietly as you feel him start to fall asleep, body becoming sleepy weight in your arms as you feel your eyes flutter shut, snores slowly syncing up with your lovers.

Or maybe even when you woke up in the middle of the night to him talking to his egg boys before you got together, knocking on his door just to find him complaining about how cold it was.

You wrapped him up in your arms under your blankets, egg boys being sent to their own bed, while you cuddled up to him. You remember so distinctly how rigid and timid he was at first. Not knowing where to put his hands, how to approach the situation.

“I - isss thisss okay?” He hissed softly as he put his hands on your back, head laid out on your chest, as you hummed out a small ‘mhm.’ tiredly, feeling him slowly start to warm up in your arms, body slowly relaxing.

“.. can I put them under your sssshirt?” He asks quietly; so quietly you can barely hear it, actually. You smile softly to yourself, before giving him another small but affirming ‘mhm.’ His hands were so cold you almost flinched away from them as he put his hands flat against the warmth of your back, letting out a sigh of relief.

You lay like that for a while, feeling him slowly relax under your hold, no longer shivering. His head properly laid on your chest, instead of the awkward slightly raised just above your skin it was doing before, listening to your heartbeat. His chest was fully pressed against yours, like his own personal radiator.

“Better?” You ask quietly, gently petting his head, one hand on his back rubbing small circles into it as he nods, not caring to open his eyes. He looks so lovely and satisfied in this state - you can’t bare to get up and move once he was warmed up like you originally planned.

That’s the first night you really started to fall for him. Maybe the first night he started to fall for you. Falling asleep with him holding you so tightly yet so softly, soaking in the warmth of your skin as he slept. Falling asleep the sound of your heartbeat slowing as you fell asleep too.

#hazbin hotel #hellaverse #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin sir pentious #sir pentious #sir pentious x reader #snake man supremacy

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totheblood · 10 months

Text

begging for rain. (one)

󠁐# ONE; the more you wait

PAIRING: ex!ellie williams x nextdoorneighbor!reader

SUMMARY: moving to a new town can be tough, especially as you are trying to hold everything in your life together. after you meet ellie, your life completely changes, but for the better? well that's still up in the air

WARNINGS: mentions of death, grief, related subjects; cursing, mentions of drinking/drugs, mentions of s*x,

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

A/N :new story... this is inspired by some dreams i had and the song begging for rain, by maggie roggers! an amazing song... this will be angsty and fluffy and will spend some time flipping in between past and present! hope u enjoy… AI AUDIOS AT THE END ! please please please like and reblog/reply/send asks, comments, the whole nine yards… it is so appreciated!

2 YEARS AGO

The fall came quicker than you expected.

Your days were overcast, filled with warm tea that quickly turned cold the longer you let it sit. Some days you held the pink and white cup firmly in your hands, fingers warming from the hot liquid inside. On other days you forgot the cup was even there.

The house was big and lonely. It felt as if you had examined every crack in the walls, and memorized the creak of every step. You were going to get to know this house as if it were your own because it was. You moved in late summer, your mom hauling luggage from the door, making some comment about you only bringing in the light boxes. You rolled your eyes and helped anyways. You didn’t want to be here, but you weren’t going to let your mom know that.

The house was in a nice neighborhood, with a good school district. Your mom did as much research as she could before buying this house, making some weird charts on Excel and plugging in numbers. You had a hefty inheritance from your dad, but now that he was gone and your house was down an income, your mother was doing what she had to. She bought the house in full, with no mortgage and no problem. This was her plan and it was the one that ensured you had the best chance of going to a good college.

You didn’t like the idea of moving to a new town and starting over, but you knew your dad’s death was hard on your mom and you didn’t want to be the cause of anymore discomfort for her. So you left your childhood friends, and bedroom and packed what you could in the ten boxes provided to you.

Your new room was simple, but fairly big. It had a bay window with a floral lined cushion in the seat. The walls were painted cream, and in the center of your room lay your bedframe and mattress. It was so empty, and everything about it felt so cold. Directly from your window, you could see into the house next to you. In the room you could see, the walls were a dark blue, littered with posters you couldn’t quite see from the distance. The room was messy, with clothes littered all over the room. From what you could see a white electric guitar was on a stand, right by the window. Then, almost as if she knew you were there, a girl stepped into view. Shaggy neck-length brown hair, half tied up into a bun. Suddenly, you felt like a creep as she stared at you, mouth slightly open as if she was caught. Almost instantly you turned around, embarrassment flooding your features.

You weren’t a creep, and this wasn’t something you did often. You were just curious, and it got the best of you sometimes. You decided that the curtains would be the first thing you hung up, not for your safety but for your neighbours safety.

You had everything situated that night, floral sheets on the mattress and books all tucked into the built in bookshelf. Your lamp illuminated from the corner of the room, making the whole room glow orange. You had pictures of your old friends on your bedside table, next to a picture of you and your dad. You winced as you looked at it.

A small knock shook you from your thoughts. Your mom, in her pajamas, stood in the doorway, arms crossed across her chest.

“How do you like your room, honey?” She questioned, warm eyes following you as you sat on your bed.

“It’s nice,” you rubbed at the blanket at the edge of your bed, “I like it.”

“I know this isn’t idea-”

“Mom, it’s fine-”

“What did I tell you about interrupting?” Her eyebrows raised as she shot you a look, her posture straightening. You rolled your eyes.

“Sorry,” you grumbled, avoiding eye contact with her.

“I know this isn’t ideal, and you are giving up a lot to be here, but,” she shook her head, looking down at her own feet, “this is a nice town with nice people and a good school. It’s what your dad would’ve wanted for you.”

You winced again at the mention of your dad. You opened your mouth to speak but were quickly shut up by the sound of the doorbell. It sounded loud and hollow, something you would have to get used to. Your mom looked down the hallway, fixing to ignore the sound before it rang again. This time you got up to follow her. When she opened the wooden door, there stood the brunette girl from earlier and an older gruff looking man holding a container.

“Hey, um,” He smiled at your mom before looking at you with your arms crossed behind her, “we’re your next-door neighbors and we saw you moving in. Wanted to welcome ourselves and bring you a little somethin’.”

The man pushed forward the container and your mom happily took it, smiling and gesturing for them to come in.

“Come on in,” she smiled, stepping to the side, completely ignoring the look you were shooting her, “I’m Melissa and this is my daughter, Y/n.”

You smiled, pursing your lips and giving a small wave to both of them.

“Well, I’m Joel,” He smiled, nodding at you and gesturing toward the younger girl next to him. “This is Ellie, think she’s about your kid’s age.”

“Well, missy here is about to go into her senior year,” your mom boasted as she gripped your arms shaking you a little, making you roll your eyes.

“So is Ellie,” He chuckled slightly, wrapping his arms around Ellie and causing her to groan, “maybe she can help… Y/n? Was it? Out with school this year.”

Ellie’s eyes widened as she turned around to look at him, giving him a dirty glare.

“In fact, how about Ellie here drives her to school tomorrow?” His smile was tight-lipped as he firmly tapped Ellie’s shoulder.

“You don’t have t-” your mom started.

“Don’t be silly. Ellie would love to.”

Ellie, in fact, did not look like she wanted to. She also didn’t look quite friendly either and you were unsure if this was the best introduction to your new neighborhood.

“We leave at seven,” Ellie’s voice was flat as she gave you a fake smile, Joel smiling brightly at your mother.

“Cool, thanks,” was all you said before taking the metal tray from your mom and into the kitchen. The introductions were awkward but at least you weren’t going to have to find the school on your own.

The next morning you woke up early, washed your face, did your hair, and pulled on your best outfit for school. Your mom had bought you new Dr. Martens as an “I’m sorry I uprooted your life” gift and you made a mental note to thank her for that again sometime later.

You took a granola bar to go and the packed lunch your mom had made you the night before. You smiled to yourself as you took it, knowing you wouldn’t see her till late that night. She had left early that morning, not wanting to be late for her first shift at the hospital. You were secretly hoping it was going well.

As you stepped outside, the fog surrounded you, making you even more grateful to Ellie. You crossed the dirt path between the houses and stepped onto their patio, knocking on the white door as you gripped your backpack straps. Ellie opened the door, face as unwelcoming as yesterday. She wore a blue flannel that loosely hung open with a white band tee on the inside. Her baggy jeans were ripped and frayed at the ends, meeting the black Converse at her feet. She had a distinct style, and she looked good in it.

“You ready to go?” Ellie asked, pulling her keys out and unlocking the jeep parked in the driveway. Nice car.

“Um, yeah,” You quietly said, following her down the steps and into the car. If she was just as quiet as you were planning on being, this wouldn’t work. You got yourself situated in the car, tucking your backpack under the seat as you smiled at Ellie. When the car started up her music started automatically playing, “Be Quiet and Drive” blasting through the speakers. She turned it down a little, to be polite. Nice, you thought.

“Thanks for driving me,” You started, watching as she turned her head to check for oncoming cars as she pulled out the driveway, “I know you might not have wanted to, but I really appreciate it.”

“Eh,” Ellie shrugged, eyes focused on the road, “It’s not a big deal. It’s not like I had to pick you up or anything.”

“But still,” you sighed, “I appreciate it.”

Ellie just mumbled a your welcome before tapping her fingers to the music on the wheel.

“I love Deftones,” you commented, making Ellie turn towards you, looking you up and down.

“You? Really?” She laughed, stopping at a red light.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked, your tone taking a little bit of a bite to it.

“Hey, hey. Just saying I didn’t get that vibe from you.” It was your turn to roll your eyes.

“And what exactly is the vibe you get from me?”

“Girl next door,” Ellie laughed to herself, shaking her head a little, “quite literally.”

“I don’t know what that means, but I’m choosing to take it as a compliment.”

The car was silent for a moment as Ellie made her way down some backstreets, occasionally looking over at you to see you on your phone.

“Um,” she cleared her throat, “what’s your favorite song by them?”

“Probably ‘Cherry Waves’, basic I know,” you shrugged, focusing your attention on her.

“Not basic. It’s a good song,” she gave you a smile. Finally. “You have good taste.”

“Thanks,” you finally smiled.

“For a stalker,” She added on, chuckling a bit causing you to gasp.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, shoving your face in your hands. “I wasn’t stalking you, I was just looking out my window.”

“And right into my room!” you could tell she was just teasing, making you shake your head as you laughed.

“It was in my line of sight,” you leaned forward, looking at her smiling, “plus if I knew you were in there I wouldn’t have looked.”

“That’s exactly what a stalker would say,” her smile was spread across her face as her jeep pulled into the parking lot of the school. Busses were lined up in front, kids piling out and talking to each other as if they knew each other for years. It was all so normal, nothing like your nightmares.

“No, that defeats the whole point of stalking!”

PRESENT DAY

Summer had finally come around, the end of your first year in college coming to an abrupt end. You were excited to be home, but your stomach churned at the thought of being so close to Ellie again. She was right there, and all the willpower you had was slowly disappearing.

You knew you didn’t want to see her, and that maybe she had stopped missing you. But both of those things were slightly untrue. You knew if you saw her, your knees would become weak again and you would be crawling across your lawn and straight into her lap. That wasn't an option. That couldn’t be an option.

She had called you again just two nights ago, and she sounded almost sure of herself. You knew she was probably high, and you knew she meant every word she said. It didn’t stop the pain from gripping at your chest when you told her you wanted nothing to do with her.

“You picked up.”

“What do you want, Ellie?” you rolled your eyes, as you felt your chest tightening.

“I come home in a few days, I want to see y-”

“That’s not happenin-”

“Cherry, please,” she sounded so desperate and so sincere. The use of your nickname didn’t help.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Look, I messed up. I know that. I have been apologizing every day for that. I fucking miss you. Nothing is the same and if I am just inches away from you I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself. I miss you, I miss how you fucking smelled, how you tast-”

“Ellie, stop,” you cut her off abruptly, screwing your eyes shut as you took a deep breath to steady yourself, “this is pathetic. You’re acting like a fucking loser and it’s not at all attractive. Move on. Find someone else to whine over. Anyone else.”

“No one is you.”

“You should have thought of that before you-”

“Can we not talk about that?”

“No, we have to. If you ever want to see me again we will have to talk about it,” you were being mean, you were worse before but Ellie never seemed to care, she just kept begging, “I will maybe hear you out if we talk about it, but other than that, I don’t want to see you.”

“Fine.” Click. She hung up the phone, as she usually did when the situation was brought up. It was a surefire way to get her to leave you alone.

As you pulled your luggage out of the backseat of your car, you looked up to Ellie’s window. Surely, enough she was standing there, staring down at you. You couldn’t quite read the expression on her face, but she quickly disappeared from the window, closing the curtains.

Dragging your luggage inside, you stopped when you saw Joel sitting at your dining room table.

“Joel,” you said simply, looking around for your mother who came rushing out of the kitchen at the sound of your voice. Joel simply nodded at you, giving you a pained smile as your mother bombarded you with a hug.

‘My baby!” She squeezed you tight, making you groan. “You’re finally home.”

“Melissa, let the kid breathe,” Joel chuckled, standing up to walk over to you and give you a hug from the side. He was limping, that was new.

“Hey, kiddo,” he took a step back from you and your mom, looking at the both of you, “you’re getting so old, you look just like your mother.”

“I’ve always looked like her,” you corrected him, looking around the room to spot any changes your mom might have made while you were away. Your eyes stopped on a picture of Ellie and you from the fall fair your senior year. You always had this picture in your phone, but now it was blown up and framed, right next to a picture of your dad. You winced. “What the fuck is that? Why is there a picture of me and Ellie hung up in here?”

“Watch your language, missy,” your mom scolded, lifting up a finger to wag at you, “and because I like the picture, it’s nice.”

“Take it dow-”

“You can’t still possibly be on this-”

“Take it down, or I will,” your tone was sharp, causing your mom to take a step back and look at Joel. You eyed her for a moment before turning to go up the stairs, dragging your heavy suitcase up the stairs. Joel rushed over to help you, reaching for the handle. You quickly grasped it out of reach.

“I can do it myself,” you snapped, shooting him a glare and bringing it up the stairs with you. Everyone here wanted to forgive Ellie, but you weren’t ready for that.

You weren’t sure if you ever would be.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x reader smut #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fan fic #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams oneshot #modern!ellie williams #college!ellie williams #ellie williams one shot

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ashwhowrites · 7 months

Note

hello ash, your writing is lovely!! i was wondering if i could request reader being in subspace after a night out with a guy who didn't give her aftercare, so roomate!eddie makes her feel better? just like taking on the role of caretaker and telling reader that he'll keep her safe and just tucking her in and giving her cute, chaste kisses?

(this is totally self indulgent cos i was sent home after no aftercare and had to do it myself)

Aftercare has my heart. That's one of my favorites parts about being intimate with my partner, the pillow talk that comes after

Thank you for requesting! I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it <3

Small fluff blurb

Y/N tried to hold back her tears as she slammed the door. She cursed herself for even leaving the bar with that guy. She should have known a random hookup at a bar wouldn't be romantic or respectful in any kind of way.

She scoffed as she thought about how he rolled off of her and told her to be out by morning. The way he didn't bother to see how she was, just closing his eyes. He had the nerve to go to sleep while she sat there naked and vulnerable.

She felt alone, scared, and used. All she wanted was to feel good. But now she couldn't help but feel like an idiot. She felt like she did everything wrong and she wasn't even worthy of being taken care of. Was she a burden? Was it too much to ask for a soft cuddle afterward?

~~~

She freely cried once she made it into her apartment. She slammed the door and ran off into her room.

Eddie was on the couch, a hand in a bag of chips when she ran past. He sat up worried, he dusted off his hands and followed behind her.

She was on her bed, lying on her side as she curled into a ball. She sobbed into her knees, her small dress riding up. Eddie could see the beginning of small hickies forming on her thighs.

"Oh, pretty girl." He cooed, walking over to the side of the bed. He kneeled, his face close to hers. He used his right hand to softly pet her hair.

"I don't wanna talk about it." She sniffled, and her red eyes looked at him. She looked so scared and hurt.

"Then we won't talk." He said softly, he stood up and removed his sweatpants. She watched him confused but didn't say anything. He gave her a trusting smile and took off her heels. Then he slid the sweatpants up her legs.

She sniffled but could feel the tears stopping. The comfort of her bare feet against her warm blanket. The softness of Eddie's sweatpants on her bare legs. Eddie grabbed her hands and helped her sit up. He nodded to her dress, and she got the hint. She reached behind herself and unzipped the dress, she stood up and let the dress sink. She stood in a bra, but Eddie's eyes stayed on her face.

"Good girl." He said softly, the praise warmed her stomach as she felt a small smile on her face. He walked over to her drawer and pulled out a small shirt.

"I'm going to turn around while you take off your bra and put this on, can you do that for me? It's okay if you can't." He asked, she nodded and took the shirt. Just as he said, he turned around but left his arm behind his back. His palm upwards gave her the chance to hold it if needed.

She couldn't help but melt at how nice he was. The way he was soft and easy with her.

"Done." She said quietly, she wasn't sure what she was supposed to do next. He turned around as she stared at him, blankly waiting for the next direction.

"Look at you! You did so well." He praised. "Let's go into bed and have some cuddles. I know you love cuddling before bed."

She nodded excitedly, moving onto the bed and slipping underneath her covers. Eddie turned off her lamp, crawling over her body as he settled next to her. He wrapped his arm around her, his lips next to her ear as he breathed against her.

The air hitting her ear and his arm wrapped around her made her feel safe. She didn't feel alone and she felt wanted. Why couldn't every guy know what she needed like Eddie?

"You're safe here." He whispered, he leaned forward and pecked her cheek.

And she believed him

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson fluff blurb #eddie munson fluff x female reader #ashwhowrites #eddie munson blurb

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koiiiiijiii · 25 days

Text

since nobody asked anything in comment section in THIS post i decided to came up with something by myself. now i know you little rogues not reading author notes🤨

Nightly Rituals

LOOKISM & WINDBREAKER BOYS WHILE YOU DOING YOUR SKINCARE ROUTINE BEFORE BED

Gun

Park Jung Gun likes your presence in his apartments, it’s always little bit more warmer and cozy with you. Especially he likes time before bed, and both of you small routines. well, he could call his routine small - just stealing some incomprehensible bottles from you, he doesn’t bother his head to read it, as long as it seems to smooth his skin he use it! also, maybe reading some book or answering to forgotten messages while he waiting for you from the shower - that’s his usual routine before bed.

he could hear the water in shower stop flowing, you wrapped yourself in a towel and slipped out of the bathroom. picking and putting on your pajama the inescapable process has been started. Jung Gun learned your skincare routine perfectly - you always start with your face adding toner, letting it dry while you adding extra products on your hair, then you using millions of bottles - moisturizers, essence, serums, creams on your face, then switching to your body, and finally drying your hair and final step - adding that tasty smelling oil on your hair and boom! you are ready for… bed… “Hun, admit it honestly, you really enjoy all this stuff and not getting tired every time?” he said, getting comfortable and pulling you towards him “It’s one of the ways of meditation you know, Gun?” you murmur softly into his chest

Ma Taesoo

Taesoo enjoys 100% of time when you staying in his apartments. he honestly asked you few times to move in with him, but you politely rejected this idea (i headcanon that Taesoo live in stereotypical bachelor designed apartment… imagine bathroom with no place to put all your bottles? and rooms with cold/neutral lights? brrr, my horror honestly)

and here he are - sprawled out in bed, with his hands behind his head and leaning on the headboard, watching you. in turn, you occupied the table in his room, laying out your makeup bag, hair dryer and some other little things there, and now you were fussily rushing from the bedroom to the bathroom to wash your hands, looking in the mirror with this terrible cold-white lighting in the bathroom. Taesoo chuckled softly, when he saw how you add another cream on your body - specifically on your thighs, saying with his husky voice “Chill woman, enough marinating yourself in all that jojoba creams, im not gonna eat you alive, while you sleep” he grinned at you and pulled you into your shared bed. “Maybe not gonna eat, but you know sweet” he said hugging you from behind, burrowing his nose into your neck “You smell so good and nice that i might change my mind.”

Vinny

it was nice to came to Vinny in apartments that Juwon give to him, honestly better than his previous home. the soft glow of bedside lamps cast a warm ambience across the room, painting shadows that danced along the walls. Vinny lounged in bed, his attention divided between a phone in his hands and the anticipation of your return. you finally took your time after preparing for final exams, allowing yourself to indulge in the luxury of self-care, a small act of kindness to soothe both body and soul. you slowly going through your skincare routine, gently massaging essence into your cheeks and admiring yourself in mirror.

Vinny shifted against the pillows, his gaze drifting to the doorway as he eagerly awaited your return. the soft shuffle of footsteps drew his attention, and his heart skipped a beat as you appeared in the doorway, bathed in the soft glow of the moon and city lights outside the window. as you settled beside him, he reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch gentle against your skin. "Hey," he murmured, his voice filled with warmth. "I've missed you." you leaned into his touch, your heart overflowing with love for the man beside you. "I missed you too," you replied, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. in that moment, as you curled up together beneath the covers, everything seems right in the world, every problem just disappeared.

Wooin

he always like to violate and invade your personal space. not that you were against it, like now, when he flatly refused to wait for you in bed while you completed your six-step skincare routine and chose to join you. he insisted that he wanted that black mask be put on his skin, while you muttered that he should clean his skin first and then add serum and only after put that mask on. "Babe, why so many unnecessary steps, you know that this mask won't make big changes anyway, right?" he whine like a child who tired of shopping for groceries, when he only agreed to came because his mum promised to buy him some chips. "Because it's the whole thing about skincare, hun!!! You doing it not because of effect, but for the process!! Trust the process you know??!" you said turning to him with annoyed face and that funny crab hair band that Wooin bought for you last time he went to shopping center. he said it looked cool and reminded him of you when you blushing.

after the last five minutes of him hovering around you like an annoying fly, whining about how he wanted a mask too, you finally gave up. going to the refrigerator and deftly pulling out a black bubble mask, you went into the room. and Wooin looked out of the bathroom in bewilderment - where did you go if he was in the other room? as you returning to bathroom, you made him sit on the side of the tub and pulled the same hairband over his head, only green in the shape of a toad, “They didn’t have anything with snakes, so i thought another amphibian would be a good idea too.” you said pulling his hair up and putting that most wanted black bubble mask on his face.

༘⋆🌷🫧💭 ⋆˙

⊹ xo - xo ⊹

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azulock · 9 months

Text

you know, I wanted to properly write something as the first thing to post on this blog but I've been starved of free time recently so have an exhibitionist Oli drabble thing. I love this garbage man

summary. just Oliver being a shameless pervert who likes sending nudes, just casually

pairing. Oliver Aiku x Reader

wordcount. roughly 1k

warnings. nsfw (minors back off)

shameless Oliver Aiku who will send you a nude any time of the day if he can. without any warning what so ever. his excuses for sending the picture completely half assed. by this point you know not to open any image from him in public.

you are not even dating either, haven't even fucked. Oliver wanted, tho, and as far as he knew you did too. you met when he moved to Europe to play in the Ubers main team. you hit it off, exchanged messages but you were both always so damn busy. when you were free, he wasn't, it just never happened.

then you moved to another country. Oliver had to accept his luck was trash on this one. shit just never worked but you strangely kept in touch. texts ranging from funny to mundane to flirty with ease. it was entertaining at least. that's when he decided to try something.

it wasn't the first time he sent nudes. but it was the first time Oliver had sent a nude to someone he hadn't fucked before. someone he had no idea when (if) he even was gonna have a shot with again. but it could be something he does for fun. and to stroke his ego, of course.

he didn't straight up start with a nude, though. he worked his way up to that. first Oliver started with clothed but horny pictures. then he moved to the shirtless pictures. you had access to his instagram, so you were already used to his thirst traps, these steps were quick. then came the shirtless picture with a clear bulge.

honestly, that was pretty much gonna be the diving point. you could react badly and just cut him off then and there. he wouldn't be losing much - ok, he'd be losing something, you were pleasant to talk to, he'd come to enjoy your conversations. but he was already not expecting a big chance at a shot here. might as well have fun with it.

the first one Oliver sent you was after a training at his home gym - you seemed to like when he sent you a picture after training with the team, so it sounded like a safe bet. he was wearing nothing but a pair of gym shorts, sitting on a bench before the mirror, sweat still clinging to his skin. one hand holding the phone while the other sat on top of his large thigh. right beside the long outline of his thick cock.

got some training done for the day

then it was a waiting game. tho, he didn't have to wait much. it didn't take even a full hour for you to respond.

nice shape. you got a gym at home or you just showing off to everyone? nah, got a gym at the apartment, I'm just showing off to you hmmmm an exclusive look. I like it ;)

now, that would do, that would do just fine. from then, it didn't take much for Oliver to grow bold. he went from shorts, to towel wrapped around his waist, and then to towel poorly held over his crotch with one hand. after that, of course, came the leap of faith.

wyd oliver you live on the other end of europe, no use wydoing me what? you think so lowly of me :'( can't I just wanna chat? when you lead with a wyd, no. what, you bored or something? yeah, been holed up indoors all day cause of a freak storm. world's falling over here oh poor oliver, the italian summer treating you badly? you afraid of a little rain? this ain't a little rain, this is a big ass storm. I'm gonna show it to ya

he sent you a short video, just a couple of seconds, enough to see a lighting strike crash somewhere off in the distance. the video was shot with the view of his floor to cieling window, from his 15th floor apartment. but aside from the storm raging outside there was the reflection of his bed on the window. and Oliver lying naked on it, lit only by the warm glow of his bedroom lamp, straining erection resting heavy on his lower abs.

as far as nudes go, that was a pretty damn good one, if Oliver could say so himself. pretty damn artistic even. he'd be praising himself for the rest of the month for thinking of using the reflection like that. damn smart of him.

well that sure does look pretty damn big and that storm is impressive too I guess

and that seals the deal, giving Oliver free range to be the shameless whore he is. after that he is fearless and far more obvious with the nudes he sends. not that he does it everyday, he doesn't want it to become boring, he knows the importance of balance - besides he does still enjoy just talking to you, it's just that now he got the added benefit of the ego boost every now and again. he likes showing off, you like seeing, what's the harm on that?

sure, he'd love to get you to send some nudes too - and the shameless bastard has asked for them before. but he gets why you wouldn't, Oliver isn't stupid. and having you praise his body is good enough. besides you give him the occasional thirst trap - nothing much riskier than the ones you post on instagram, but damn, it feels good getting sent them personally.

honestly, he likes this arrangement. sure he'd like to see more of your body but who knows, if he plays his cards right he might just get to see it up close at some point. but for now he keeps on sending nudes - happy with the freedom to indulge in his exhibitionist tendencies. and indulge Oliver does, already plotting a way to start sending you jerking off videos soon enough.

#oliver aiku x reader #oliver aiku #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #oliver aiku smut

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rebelfell · 7 months

Text

The Third Date

Eddie Munson x Anorgasmic!Reader

It’s finally the night of your date with Eddie and everything is gonna be fine. Great. Fine and great. Right?

Part One. Part Two.

cw: childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, making out, fingering, sexual anxiety/panic attack, discussion of difficulty climaxing, eddie being sweet and reassuring, fluffy ending.

I was kinda in my feelings and needed Eddie to tell me all the right things. Sue me. 18+, MDNI 6k

You’ve barely finished knocking on the bright red door to Eddie’s when it swings open to reveal him grinning back at you. He ushers you inside, nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet as he shows you around his place.

It’s a small apartment, but for two young guys living together it’s surprisingly tidy and well furnished. That must be Steve’s influence, you muse, noting the plushness of the sofa and an overstuffed armchair. Shelves piled with books and board games sit off to the side and next to the screen door is a plant that could do with a little water, but ultimately is surviving fine. It’s bordering on cozy in here, cast in the glow of a couple lamps and a candle flickering on the coffee table. The warm, sweet smell of some nonspecific baked goods filling the room.

“So, this is my castle,” Eddie says, bowing slightly and brandishing his arms.

“I like it,” you nod as you glance around. “It’s not quite what I expected.”

“What? You were thinking empty liquor bottles, a couple camp chairs, a half dozen posters of babes in bikinis?” He quirks his brow at you, seemingly reading your mind.

“That may be exactly what I was picturing,” you reply with a knowing smirk. “Though it is you, so maybe a dragon in a bikini instead?”

He laughs at that and bobs his head a few times in agreement as his eyes drift to the overnight bag you’re clutching. “Here, let me put that in my room for you,” he says with a sweet smile.

You hand it over and your eyes follow him as he heads down the hall. He pushes open the door at the very end and you catch a glimpse of his old Corroded Coffin banner hanging on the wall that brings a smile to your face. Below it is his bed, nicely made up with a navy duvet.

Just the sight of it makes your heart race and every thought falls right out of your head.

When he re-emerges from the room, you realize he’s been talking to you and you have to force yourself to focus on his voice rather than your deep contemplation of his sheets.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I ordered dinner already,” he says. “There’s this Thai place that’s seriously incredible, but it takes a while to deliver, so I wanted to be sure it got here on time.”

“That sounds great,” you say, still milling about to take in the rest of Eddie’s place.

He rattles off all the dishes he ordered, each one sounding better than the last, and you pause by the fireplace. A row of knick knacks interspersed with framed photos sit on the mantle. Some are his figures from Hellfire and you delicately touch a fingertip to the top of each one until you reach a photo in a frame made from popsicle sticks.

It’s a picture of you and him—one of the few in existence. You think you must be six or seven based on his buzzed haircut and your braces. Instinctively, you run your tongue over the front of your teeth, almost expecting to feel the thick metal wires there. Eddie moves silently to stand at your side and peers over your shoulder at the picture now held in your hand.

The two of you are at Forest Hills, sitting on top of the dome climber across from he and Wayne’s trailer. You must have spent all summer on that thing, pretending it was a deserted island where you’d been marooned after refusing to marry the merchant sailor your evil father had betrothed you to. The picnic table nearby played the role of Eddie’s pirate ship where he spotted you climbing to the top of the island’s mountain to signal for help. He would oblige, rowing an imaginary smaller boat to your island and bravely scaling the mountainside to sit beside you at the top. He offered you passage on his ship as a member of his crew, assuring you it would be hard work but that your new life would be filled with riches like the freedom to sail the seas and explore worlds unknown you could not even imagine.

Wayne must have interrupted your epic play to snap this photo. Eddie is in his signature pose. He’s got his hands raised to the sides of his head, fingers pointed to resemble horns and his tongue flicked out with his eyes wide and wild. You’re not even looking at the camera, enamored gaze unable to tear away from him.

“It’s like you had a crush on me or something,” Eddie says teasingly.

“Yeah, clearly I wasn’t hiding it as well as I thought I was.”

You chuckle, but Eddie’s brow furrows and his voice loses that playful edge as he dips into pensiveness. He takes the frame from you and carefully places it back on the mantle.

“Did you really?” he asks. “Did you really like me all that time and I was too stupid to know?”

The question catches you off guard. You’d sort of just assumed he had to know that was the case, given how things had progressed between you, seemingly overnight. Well, overnight plus five years. It's the first time you’ve stopped to question what had inspired his pursuit.

“I’m not sure,” you say slowly. “At the time, I don’t think I knew the difference between how much I liked having you as my friend and how much I liked you. Eventually, I figured it out.”

You pause, summoning the strength to ask the question you’re dying to know. The one you’ve been wanting to ask practically your whole life.

“Did you ever think of me like that? I mean…before now?”

Sadness flickers in Eddie’s deep brown eyes and he takes a steadying breath. He moves into you, slipping his arms around your waist and holding you by the small of your back. You feel yourself tremble as he tucks his chin down and gently rests his forehead against your own.

“All the fucking time,” he whispers. “I liked you so much, but I…I couldn’t imagine you’d ever want me back. I guess I was too scared to find out.”

“Oh, Eddie,” you sigh mournfully. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Is it?” he mutters. “Trailer park loser. Criminal. Freak. Who would want me?”

You shake your head at his disparaging words and overwrite them with your own. “Honest. Fearless. Kind. Trustworthy. Genius.”

A bashful smile spreads across Eddie’s face and he tries to look away, but you surprise yourself with your own boldness as your hand comes up to catch his face and turn it back towards you.

“I wanted you,” you confess softly. “I always have.”

He leans in and captures your lips with his. It steals every speck of breath from your lungs and you think you could fly apart into a million pieces if it wasn’t for his hands gripping your waist. It feels like the kiss goes on forever and yet it’s not nearly long enough. You instantly miss the feeling of his mouth when he pulls away, but he keeps his face close to yours.

“Sorry I wasted so much time,” Eddie whispers. “We could have been doing this all along.”

When dinner arrives, you guffaw at the array of food before you. It seems entirely possible he just ordered one of everything on the menu. You dutifully sample a little of each dish and have to resist stuffing your face full after one mouthful of this roasted duck Eddie asserted was the best thing they made. Delicious as it is, your nerves have made your stomach too jumpy to eat much and before long you’re helping Eddie box up the absurd amount of leftovers.

Guilt pangs in your chest thinking how much he must have spent, but Eddie chatters excitedly about how it only gets better the longer the flavors have to sit and meld together.

“Are you sure?” you ask, handing him the last container.

“Absolutely,” he says as he pushes the fridge closed. “You can take some home with you, too.”

His hand finds the small of your back as you walk back into the living room. His touch is gentle and reassuring as you head to the couch, but it does little to quell your nerves.

“How about a movie?” he asks. “Steve brings home a bunch of different stuff. We’ve got some horror, some comedy…”

There’s a knot in your stomach as he bends in front of their entertainment center, rifling through the rentals piled up next to their VCR. The lingerie under your clothes rubs raw against your skin as you shift in your seat on the couch, threatening you with the stinging humiliation of wearing it all night long only to never be seen.

What if he’s changed his mind? What if he doesn’t want to anymore? What if he thinks you don’t want to? Is there some signal you should be giving him? Some move you should be making? Ears now ringing, you clear your throat and he glances back at you over his shoulder.

“Maybe later?” you say softly.

Eddie smiles and nods in agreement before returning to his spot on the couch. He sinks down next to you and lays his arm across the back of the cushions. His eyes stay fixed on your face, taking in every inch. It makes your breath catch as you study him back, his features as mesmerizing as always.

You hurl yourself at him, realizing just a second too late his head is dipping down to kiss you at the same time. His face knocks against yours and you wince as you pull back, a dull aching where his chin connected with your cheek.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you mutter frantically. “I’m sorry! Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he laughs. “No permanent damage.”

“Are you sure?”

“Definitely,” he says, his head tilting to the side.

He reaches out a hand and cups it against the side of your face, his thumb stroking your jaw. You have to resist the urge to ask again if he’s sure, he’s sure. You know you ask it too often. It’s not even conscious at this point, it just comes out. Are you sure? Are you sure?

“Hey…are you okay?” he asks. “You’re shaking.”

“Yeah, I-I’m sorry,” you stammer out your response, heart still pounding in your chest. “I don’t know, I thought maybe I was supposed to like…make a move.”

Eddie’s brows raise and smiles impishly. “What kind of move?”

“Like a…a hook up move.”

Eddie chuckles, his dimples deepening in his cheeks as he scoots closer and leans in so close you can feel the warmth coming off his skin and smell the light, fresh scent of his aftershave.

“How about you let me worry about the moves?”

You inhale sharply, his words zinging straight to your core and making you squirm in your seat from the need to be closer to him. His eyes flit down to see your thighs pressing together and a knowing smile curls up the corners of his mouth. His beautiful, perfect mouth…

He helps you climb onto his lap and wraps his arms tight around your waist, squeezing you against him. He stares up at you, the tip of his nose bumping against the bridge of yours and then mashing into the softness of your cheek as his lips cover your own.

The kiss ignites everything inside of you. Years and years of built up feelings for the boy beneath you begin to smolder—a pile of kindling finally stoked into a flame.

Experimentally, you shift your hips and begin to rock back and forth in a slow, deep grind. You can feel the effect you have on him in his stilted breath and the prodding of the hardness growing in his jeans. He kisses his way along your jaw and when his lips ghost over a sensitive spot on your neck just behind your ear, you give an involuntary thrust forward.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, tightening his already firm grip on you. “Do that again…”

You oblige him happily. Enthralled by the need in his voice and spurred by his gritty tone, you grind down on him again and squeeze your thighs around his hips. A strained gasp bursts from his lips and he fumbles to grip the back of your neck and hold your mouth against his.

He’s wearing another button up tonight, dark hunter green this time that sets off the rich brown hue of his eyes. Your fingers find the hem of his shirt and begin to unbutton it from the bottom, revealing inch by inch the clingy white tank underneath. It does little to nothing to conceal the solid muscled form of his chest and it makes your heart pound imagining it bare. But sitting down, there was still that soft roundness to his belly you’d always liked. It made you want to scratch him like he was a stray mutt from the junkyard, scraggly and carefree.

When the last button is pulled open, you help him shrug off his shirt, revealing corded arm muscles that twitch and flex as he reaches out to wrap you back up in his arms.

“God, Eddie, I need you—please.”

Your voice is plaintive and desperate in a way it’s never been before. He groans into your neck and you feel your hips take on a life of their own. The seam of your jeans catches perfectly on your clit and the feeling makes you rock harder, sliding back and forth on his lap and despising every single layer of clothing separating you.

“Hang on, hang on,” he pants, breathless as he sits up and slips his hands up your back to hold you in place. A chill runs down your spine and you sit back on his thighs, body going rigid.

“What is it? D-did I do something wrong?”

“No, not at all,” he laughs, his pale cheeks tinging pink with embarrassment. “But if you keep that up, I’m gonna come in my fucking jeans.”

Heat rises in your own face, his words filling you with a mix of excitement and shyness. And you know he has to be able to feel how it causes you to flutter. He smooths his hands firmly up and down your back, bringing one of them up to the nape of your neck and beginning to massage your hairline with his fingertips.

“How about we…slow down a little?” he asks, his voice gentle but still husky with need.

You nod wordlessly and let your eyelids drift closed, rolling your head into his strong fingers as they continue rubbing your neck. Shivers ripple down your back and your mouth falls open with relief when he finds a knot in your shoulder and presses down on it. A heavy, resonating moan releases from deep in your chest and you immediately stiffen.

Panicking at the realization the practically pornographic sound you just heard came out of you, you slap your palm over your mouth and stare wide-eyed at Eddie. He just smiles.

“Don’t hide it, sweetheart,” he hums. “I wanna hear you.”

He pulls your hand from your mouth, bringing it to his own instead. Warm lips and hot breath caress your fingers and the pad of your thumb brushes over the impossibly soft skin of his lip. You tug it down gently, letting it spring back up.

“Your moans are so pretty,” he sighs. “Will you make some more for me?”

The words are lilting like he’s writing lyrics for a song. He looks up at you with those pleading eyes and you bury yourself in the crook of his neck, hiding your face in his curls. His lips and teeth nip at the skin behind your ear, causing you to release breathy sighs and moans just for him. He shivers beneath you and the evidence of his pleasure throbs, unable to be ignored.

Your mouth seeks his blindly, messily, desperately. Your own hands slide up his chest and around the back of his neck, raking your fingers into his curls until the heels of your palms meet the base of his skull. Firmly and slowly gripping the hair close to his scalp, you guide him deeper into the kiss. He moans into your mouth and relaxes his whole body, giving you the control to put him exactly where you want him.

So much for slowing down, you think.

His hips suddenly jerk upwards, lifting you with him, and you moan again. It’s not as loud as before, but its enough to make your lips break from his. It all feels too good, too overwhelming. The anticipation is killing you now. You’ve spent your whole life waiting, you can’t waste another second. It’s time. It has to be. It’s now or never.

“Can I, um…freshen up?”

Eddie looks up at you with a dreamy expression, his eyes a little glazed and pink lips puffy from kissing. He nods down the hall to the door adjacent to his bedroom, his eyes never leaving you as you slip off his lap.

You don’t enter the bathroom, though.

Instead you push open the door to Eddie’s room and slip inside, leaving it just ajar enough to spark his curiosity. You place yourself at the end of his bed to wait for him, half sitting up leaning back on your elbows. The mattress dips as you sink into the softness—a far cry from the lumpy thing he slept on in Wayne’s trailer. Your heart races hearing the soft clinking of his belt as he comes down the hall and pushes the door fully open.

He leans against the frame and smiles.

Eddie looks at you like a kid on Christmas Eve—not feral and wide-eyed like he’s ready to tear through a mountain of presents in an early morning frenzy, but serene and reverent like he’s looking at the tree bathed in the soft glow of twinkle lights strung on its branches.

“Hi,” he whispers.

You smile and tuck your bottom lip behind your teeth. “Hi…”

He gently pushes the door closed behind him and moves towards you where you sit on the bed. But rather than climbing onto the mattress, he sinks to his knees on the floor in front of you and rests his hands on the tops of your thighs.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he says, voice still hushed like he’s afraid this is a dream and you’ll twist into smoke if he speaks too loudly.

You nod back at him. “Me too.”

His hands move steadily up your thighs to your waist and he gathers your blouse to lift it gently over your head. Lit only by the lamp on his bedside table, the blue of your bra looks even more like the night sky and the light catches on the silvery threads, making the stars sparkle. Your whole body shivers with excitement as he takes you in, his eyes drawn to the swell of your breasts and your nipples standing rigid, pushing out from behind the unlined mesh.

“Fuck…”

His voice is soft. So soft, you think he might not even realize he spoke out loud. You smirk at him, a little disbelieving even as he sounds genuinely awestruck. His eyes dart back up to yours and he grins, chuckling with mirth at his own reaction.

“Sorry,” he says. “I just…you’re so…god, you’re gorgeous.”

Eyes falling to your breasts again, he reaches out to cup them gently and lets his thumbs brush over their stiff peaks. You hum softly at the feeling of him flicking your nipples with calloused pads worn that way from years of guitar playing. With a soft kiss, he continues on—his hands reluctant to leave them, but eager to touch you more places.

He slides them downward, relishing every inch of the curve of your waist until he finds the top of your jeans. “Do you want these off?” he asks, voice wavering slightly.

Your own breath is getting uneven itself as the beginning flames of nerves start to flicker and nip at your ankles. Eddie’s eyes parse your reaction, but you divert his attention by unbuttoning your fly and helping him shift your pants over your hips and down your legs. He tugs them off until they sit in a heap on the floor and he can take you in fully, the reveal of your matching set clearlying having the desired effect.

“Wow…” He stares, eyes soft with awe. His strong hand flexes to extend his fingers and he reaches out to gently stroke the navy material. “I like this a lot,” he says.

“That’s good,” you say, peering at him shyly. “I got it for you.”

His eyes light up at that, brows raising in disbelief. Not that he thinks you’re lying, but that he can’t possibly fathom how he got this lucky.

“Seriously?” he breathes. “No one’s ever…”

He clears his throat, trying to choke back the incoherent stream of words threatening to spill out of his mouth. And his mind scrambles to say something that doesn’t sound completely idiodic. He feels like a caveman seeing fire for the first time and trying to think of a word for it.

He’s just so fucking happy.

Cupping your face tenderly in his hands, thumbs brushing the apples of your cheeks, he gazes deep into your eyes. “You’re so special to me,” he says. “I want to be sure I do this right.”

“So far so good,” you whisper.

He’s left his button down in the living room, leaving him stripped down to only his white singlet. The muscles in his shoulders ripple as he lifts his arms and you whisk off his tank to unveil his bare chest. A couple new tattoos catch your eye. A black widow spider now sits over the demon head on his left pec, just beneath his collarbone. There’s a sword etched into his ribs and as you follow the point down, you spot two pale nicotine patches in the usual spot on his hip.

It makes your heart swell thinking of how he’d explained it that night you played pool. For when I’m really nervous, he’d said. It still seemed so silly that you could make him nervous.

“Can I kiss you more?” he asks.

You nod and close your eyes to wait for the feeling of his mouth on yours, only to gasp softly when he goes to your neck instead. His lips vibrate with a gentle groan as he kisses down the column of your throat, sucking at it lightly and listening to how it causes your breath to hitch when he finds a particularly sensitive spot. Shivers cascade down your back as he continues on his path, kissing over the mounds of your chest, down your belly, nudging your legs apart.

“Eddie, you don’t have to—ohhh…”

His mouth trails over your hip and they flex upwards, seeking more. He smooths his hands over your legs and every inch of your skin he touches buzzes with anticipation.

“Please, sweetheart?” he says, baring his teeth in a sinful smile from between your thighs. “Been dreaming about this so long…I just want to make you feel good.”

His lips ghost over your heat, the tip of his nose brushing against your sensitive button through the thin barrier of your underwear. Your breath hitches in your throat as he starts to slowly nod his head, giving a preview of the motions he’s dying to use on you. Warm, broad palms coast over your hips and ringed fingers curl around the elastic band circling your waist.

“Can I take these off?” he asks. “I want to see you.”

You hum a noise of approval, so dizzy with need you can’t even form a real word. He glides your panties down your legs, nails raking over your skin all the way down to your ankles. Fighting the urge to cringe at how exposed you feel, you bring your focus back to Eddie—back to his eyes and the way they drink you in. The tip of his tongue ekes out between his lips to wet them and he turns his head to make a path of delicate kisses along the inside of your calf.

You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay, you chant internally. God, you want this so much.

Excitement pools in your belly and the feeling mixes with your nerves into a lethal cocktail. As he kisses up one leg, your other begins to tremble against his ear. You feel as though you’re about to float away and drift untethered into the ether.

“Eddie?”

His kisses pause at your knee joint and he looks up at you. “Yes, princess?”

“I…I need you closer,” you admit meekly.

He obliges instantly and slides up onto the bed, cradling your body against his. The hardness in his jeans prods against your side and you almost black out thinking how he could be inside you any minute now. Except Eddie seems perfectly content taking his time.

He skims his fingers from your navel up your sternum, relishing every quiver of your body. His touch follows the graceful lines of your collarbone and neck up to your jaw. With his other arm under you, head resting securely in the crook of his elbow, he traces more of your outline.

At last he begins his descent, teasingly light touch weaving back and forth across your tummy in swirling patterns down to your mound. He tenderly spreads you apart and strokes your center, fingertips brushing ever so gently over your clit. His eyes stay fixed on your face as he applies more pressure, seeking your reaction.

“That feel good?” he asks, his breath warm on your cheek.

“Yes,” you gasp softly. “Keep going.”

With a little more intention, he dips a finger into your entrance and his chest rumbles with a moan. “You’re so wet,” he whispers. “Is that all for me?”

You can’t answer, your eyes falling closed and your head tipping back—almost wanting to cry because it feels so good in a way it never has. He slides further inside, gently massaging your warm, wet walls. With his thumb pressing on your clit in time with his thrusts, he adds another finger, stretching you open further. Your pussy positively blooms for him, enveloping his fingers and taking him in eagerly.

“Oh, god, Eddie…”

“That’s it, beautiful,” he husks, his digits expertly curling inside of you as his thumb swirls outside. He lowers his voice further, a heated whisper in your ear. “I wanna hear you come…”

His voice sends a jolt straight to your core, but the words cause your mind and body to diverge. You try to stay present. You try not to dwell on it, but his statement echoes. It fills your head and ricochets around the inside of your skull, taking over everything. That’s when you feel it.

Suddenly, it doesn’t matter what he’s doing down there or how good it felt just moments ago. That rigidness you know all too well permeates your body and stills everything—a boulder at the bottom of a frozen lake kind of stillness. You can’t believe you let this happen. You can’t believe you’re ruining this. You can’t believe how stupid you were for thinking it would be any different. Your heart races, pounding like a battering ram behind your ribcage like it’s trying to burst out.

“Eddie,” you croak. “Eddie, stop!”

He pulls back immediately, his eyes round with concern at the sudden panicked tone in your voice. He stares at you, his own expression descending into remorse.

“Shit, shit, I’m sorry,” he says. “Does it…did it not feel good?”

“No, no, it—I mean, yes, it did, I just…”

Your chest gets unbearably tight, the pressure crushing your windpipe. You try to inhale, but it feels more like sucking air through a pinhole. You sit up, hands fumbling for the sheets to cover yourself. Your whole body is on fire. Blistering, burning, searing pain replacing every speck of the pleasure you’d been feeling. And Eddie…poor Eddie is looking at you like he’s about to cry.

“Hey,” he soothes, timidly reaching to touch your knee. “Talk to me, tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t know,” you gasp, still struggling to get air and failing. “I-I-I feel…”

“It’s alright,” he says, voice steady but urgent. “Look at me, yeah? Take a deep breath in and blow it out quick like you’re blowing out a birthday candle? Okay? Do it with me.”

He locks eyes with you as he demonstrates, sucking in a breath and holding it in his chest until you do the same. Once you have, he blows out a big puff of air and begins breathing steadily in through his nose and out though his mouth. You mimic him, remaining held by those deep brown pools until you feel your heart rate slow and finally steady.

“That’s good,” he says, shifting so he can rub his hand in wide circles across your back. “You’re doing so good, just keep going.”

You can’t decide if he’s patronizing you, praising you for breathing of all things. But his words are calming regardless and his hand on your back has a comforting weight to it. He keeps up with rubbing small circles across your back until you swallow hard and open your mouth to speak.

“I have to tell you something,” you say.

“Okay. What is it?”

“I can’t, um…I’m not going to…I don’t…finish.”

He frowns, brow furrowing as they knit together. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve never been able to get there. And I-I guess I panicked. I didn’t want you to spend all this time on it when it’s not going to happen.”

“Oh,” he exhales softly. “So…never?”

You shake your head, hugging your knees to your chest. “No,” you sniff. “Never.”

“But what about with Carl? You guys were together for like years.”

“Yeah, but he never…” You sigh and pinch your eyes closed. “I mean, I never—”

“He never made you come?”

Shame radiates in your chest like heartburn and you feel the sting of tears that threaten to spill over your eyelids. “I know, okay?” you whimper. “It’s humiliating.”

“No, no! That’s not what I meant. I mean, it should be humiliating for him. Isn’t it?”

“I don’t see how,” you shrug. “It’s not your food’s fault for being cold if the microwave is busted.”

“You’re not busted,” Eddie insists. “He’s got to try. He should have helped you get there.”

“He did try. We’d have sex and it would feel fine, but we’d always get to this point where I knew it wasn’t gonna happen. And it…it was just easier to get him taken care of.”

“But what about with his fingers? Or his mouth? Or a toy?”

Your face burns at the memory of similar past conversations. Bringing up things you thought seemed obvious only resulted in Carl feeling insulted, like you were saying his dick wasn't enough for you.

“It, um…it took too long.”

“What’s too long?”

“I don’t know,” you mumble. “It felt like an eternity. And I’d get all wrapped up in my head kind of…kind of like I did just now. And it didn’t make sense to waste all that time—”

“It’s not a waste of time,” Eddie scoffs. “Did he actually say that to you?”

Anger flashes briefly in his eyes and you quickly shake your head. It was true, Carl never outright called it that. He just didn’t disagree with you when you apologized for taking so long. And when you started to feel him getting tired and frustrated, it only added to your stress.

“How about like…on your own?”

“I mean, I-I’ve tried.” You look down again, your body still prickling as you try to answer without crying. “I don’t know why, but I can’t relax? I start thinking about, like, f I’m doing it right or if I’m doing it wrong. And I wind up laying there for hours trying and I feel like such a failure. Like I can’t experience this thing everyone else can and I don’t think I ever will.”

A dark, wet splotch appears on his sheets as a tear falls from your eye. You brush furiously at your cheek, smearing the trail it left behind.

“I guess I get close. I think? I don’t know, it feels good up to a point, and it feels kind of, vaguely, like something, but then it just starts to hurt and ache. And I guess that could be it, but…like, the way people talk about it? I can’t imagine what I feel is what they’re referring to. You know?”

Eddie’s head hangs low. His expression churns with a myriad of emotions like he can’t decide which one to feel. Sadness for you. Anger at Carl. Disappointment with himself.

“I’m so sorry,” you sigh. “I didn’t know how to tell you.”

Furiously, you wish you’d just faked it. How hard would it have been to breathe sort of heavy and writhe around a little bit? It would have been worth it to avoid all this. But even as you’re thinking that, something tells you Eddie never would have bought it. He was too attentive, too attuned to any shift of your mood, of your body. He would have seen right through you.

“Don’t apologize,” he says calmly. “I’m glad you told me, I just…I wish I’d known. I wouldn’t have rushed you. I wouldn’t have said that…”

He hangs his head again and rubs his hand across the back of his neck. You sneak a glance at him, the sadness in his eyes that you caused making your heart ache. This is all your fault, you think. You don’t deserve someone like him. You don’t deserve anyone.

“I, um…I’m gonna get out of here,” you say quietly, scooting towards the other side of the bed. Eddie’s head jerks up at your movement.

“Wait, what?”

“I should just leave, I’m…I’m really sorry.”

“Hang on, hang on, don’t go—” He lurches forward, reaching for your waist to stop you and then abruptly pulling back when he realizes what he’s doing. It breaks your heart a little, the look in his eyes like he’s afraid to touch you now. Again.

“Eddie, it’s okay—”

“It’s not okay,” he says. “Please stay? This is my fault, I shouldn’t have pushed so fast, I was just excited for you to stay over. And I thought this was what you wanted.”

“It was,” you say solemnly. “It is, I mean. I do want this. I’ve wanted this for so long, I just…I don’t know what’s wrong with me and now I’ve ruined the whole night.”

“No, no, not at all.” Eddie shakes his head emphatically. He lifts his hands and cups your face, calloused thumbs rubbing the smoothness of your cheeks. “Absolutely nothing is wrong with you,” he says. “You’re perfect. The only thing that could ruin tonight is you leaving.”

“Are you sure?” you rasp.

He smiles and chuckles at your refrain. “How about from now on, you assume when I say something—anything—it means I’m sure?”

“But are you…” You catch yourself mid sentence. “…certain?”

Eddie rolls his eyes at you and chuckles as your lips finally quirk into a small smile. “I’ll give you that one,” he says begrudgingly. “But no more.”

You give a reluctant nod and he grins.

“And yes, I’m very certain,” he says. “I bought all these snacks for breakfast. And I found this little basket we can put them in. I thought maybe we could drive out to the lake and read like we used to? And then go to that diner way outside of town? With the great milkshakes?”

Tears threaten to spill over your cheeks again, but now it’s from happiness burgeoning in your chest. “That sounds really nice,” you whisper.

He grins back at you.

“Okay, then. I tell you what…why don’t we table all this for right now? Neither of us is gonna make any moves for the rest of the night. We’re going to get in comfy clothes and watch TV, or smoke, or play cards, or talk…whatever you want. And whenever you’re ready, we can go to bed.”

Reactively, your shoulders stiffen and his eyes go wide.

“No, no, no! I didn’t mean—” He slaps his hand to his forehead and sighs at his own flub. “I meant sleep. I…I really just want to sleep next to you. And wake up with you in the morning. And spend the rest of the day together. Is that okay?”

He gives you those eyes again, round and open and vulnerable. Hopeful. It makes it easy to nod at him with a gentle smile. Because it’s more than okay, it sounds perfect. He smiles back and reaches for your hand. You let him lift it to his lips and his breath is warm as he kisses your fingers.

“I just want you here,” he murmurs to your knuckles.

You bite your lip to stop the Are you sure? already queued up on your tongue. Eddie lifts off the bed and pulls a pair of sweatpants and a clean t-shirt from one of the drawers in his dresser. The fresh smell of his detergent wafts towards your nose and you inhale it deeply.

“I’ll change in the bathroom,” he says. “Just come back to the living room when you’re ready.”

Still smiling as he leans over you with ease, balancing on his fists pressing down into the mattress, he kisses you. It’s not a messy or desperate snog, but not quite a chaste peck either. It’s deep and yearning. Full of wanting, but asks for nothing.

He heads into the hall and his bedroom door clicks as he pulls it shut behind him. When you hear the bathroom door also click closed, you creep out from beneath his sheet and reach for the panties bunched up at the foot of the bed. You strip off the matching bra and stuff the pair into the bottom of your overnight bag. To replace them, you exhume a simple gray pajama set of an oversized shirt and loose, flowy shorts. The light material is cool against your skin, soothing for the first time the existential itchiness that had consumed you all night.

In the living room, Eddie sits on the sofa, comfortable and casual as can be in his soft sweats. There’s not a speck of disappointment or frustration on his handsome face as he flips through the channels. His mouth splits into a grin when he sees you, eyes dancing as he takes you in, just as dazzled by the sight of you in plain pajamas as he was by your lingerie.

He pats the cushion next to him and jerks his chin up to beckon you over. From the TV, the eerie tinkling theme of The Twilight Zone begins to play and you all but scamper over to the couch. He chuckles as you pad across the carpet and nestle into his side, folding your legs under you.

He reaches behind your head to pull down the knit blanket draped over the back of the sofa and proceeds to tuck it securely around you both. “Comfy?” he asks, still smiling down at you.

You nod and his arm curls securely around your shoulder. It rests there naturally, like it’s the one place in the world it’s always been meant to be. “Thank you, Eddie,” you whisper, stretching your neck to press your lips against his.

“Of course. Anything for you, sweetheart.”

His voice is tender and rumbly and you can feel his chest vibrate with the words as you lay your head against him. The softness of his t-shirt on your cheek and the warmth of his skin you can feel through it fills you with contentment. You mold yourself into his side, already thinking how nice it will be when you inevitably fall asleep right here. Right where you belong. Eddie’s head dips and he rests his cheek on the top of your head as he begins to recite along with the narrator,

“You’re traveling through another dimension. A dimension not only of sight and sound, but of mind. A journey into a wondrous land whose boundaries are that of imagination…”

Thank you for reading/interacting - love you, mean it (◕‿◕)

tags: @vintagehellfire @mygirlchaos @autumnleagues @valerievortex

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #eddie stranger things #stranger things fanfic #tw: anorgasmia #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst

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starsomens · 3 months

Note

All I ask is something soft and domestic with dad Noah just pure fluff please and thank you 🖤

Note: all you had to say, was dad , Noah, and I dive in right away

'waaaahhhhhhhh'

"mmmm...." you groggily sit up in bed to the sound of your baby crying only about 2 1/2 hours from the last time, so now it was 5:58 am. This wasn't something you were used to. Keaton was born about a week ago and you were released from the hospital about 3 days ago. There were some complications, but nothing too serious. Eden was adjusting to the new baby as well, sometimes waking up along with the cries. Just as you did with Eden, he would sleep in the same room as you and Noah.

"Okay bud, what's wrong," you pick him up as his cries stop just a bit, reduced down to whimpers and soft whines. You check his diaper and he definitely needed a change. You were about to scoot over to the side of the bed to get up but you were stopped. Noah's hand weighed down on your hip just a bit, enough to get you to stop

"I got him babe," he said sitting up

"no, Noah I've got him" you said rocking him with a slight yawn "You got up the last time," He gets up from the bed and comes over to your side of the bed

"And I have this time too, come on Kea," he takes the baby from your arms and lets him rest against his chest "What I need you to do is rest," he points his finger at your sternly. Now the complication at the hospital was you, you had decided to take the epidural just to endure the pain better. However it did not wear off as soon as you had hoped it would. It took an extra day just for you to get some sensation back, and half of the next day to feel stable walking. By now, you're back to walking normally

"Well, it's already 6 so I'll get up with you," he opened his mouth to say something but stopped once you stood up and turned on your lamp. Once you were up there was no stopping you. You both walk down the hall carefully with Keaton to the nursery. While Noah changed him, you went over to Eden's room to check on her and make sure she was still asleep. She had another hour and half before she had to get up to get ready for school. She was still sleeping which was good. You go back to where Noah was, Keaton was changed and you had planned on feeding him to put him back down to sleep

"Did you pump anything princess?" Noah asks as walks to the kitchen and into the freezer

"I should have last night, but I can feed him Noa-"

"Go and get in the shower, relax and I'll feed him okay?" he said in a more demanding tone than an offer. At times Noah was a bit firm with you and would tell you to do things, but in the sense that he cares. Like right now, he knows you like getting a nice warm shower in the morning to wake you up. He isn't asking or offering, he wants you to go and shower, relax, get into some clothes and he's watch over the baby. You place your hand on you hips and just look at him with a chuckle.

"Okay, okay I give," you kiss his lips and lay a kiss to Keaton's head "thank you moon"

"of course mama, not get your pretty self in the shower"

You were convinced that you had married an angel. He was a great husband and father, just anything and everything you could have ever wanted. You take about 10 minutes to shower, 5 to brush your teeth and another 5 to get ready. You go back down stairs to check on Noah and Keaton. Keaton was asleep in his rocker while Noah was starting on breakfast. You come and hug his back

"Mmm thank you love," he say kissing his shoulder blade, he just hums and serves 2 plates of eggs and pancakes.

"While I take Eden to school could you call the docotor and make sure the appointment is still set up for next week?” He nodded his head as he chews his food

“You sure you wanna take her, I can do it and you can stay with Keaton,” he offers. Even though he knew that you like to be independent and get your own things done and contribute, he wants you to rest as much as possible. He knew how much of a toll this delivery had taken on your body. He just wanted you to get back to feeling normal. But that tends to blend in with him wanting to keep you on bedrest 24/7. But he knew you wanted to get back to your normal routine

“I’ve got it babes, thank you though” looking over at the clock, it read 7:15. You stand with your plate and put it in the sink “thank you for breakfast handsome” you kiss him deeply this time. His hand coming up to your hip and squeezing the skin just a bit

“Of course, you deserve this and more. I’ll go and get Eden ready while you get her lunch”

You give him a smile and another kiss before he gets up from the table to go and get your daughter ready for the day. Going into her room he turns on her lamp to the dentist setting to get her up. He crashes down next to her small bed and gently her awake.

“Come on princess, time for school” he says, in a gentle tone

“Mmm, school?” She responded stretching in her bed

“Yup, it’s Wednesday pretty girl, 2 more days to go” eden sits in bed and rubs at her eyes, Noah grabs her fluffy bunny slippers and slips them all to her little feet. He gets her to the bathroom and gives her her small stepstool and brushes her hair out while she brushes her teeth. Just like her father, she tends to get some bed head whenever she had good rest. She was nearly his identical twin.

She had your eyes but his hair color and his freckles. She also had a mixture of your nose and his nose, but you were more than certain it was his nose. Don’t get started on the attitude, because little Miss Princess got the sass from her daddy. After brushing her teeth, Noah helps her to get an outfit and her hair done. Well Noah does her hair into two little braids he loves to give her affirmations

“You look so pretty with your braids princess. Do you want clips in your hair and no clips?” He asked

“Mmmm Clips!” he open a small jar full of clips and pics two heart-shaped ones to put in her hair. The smell on her face was what he loved about getting her ready in the morning. He knew he would be sending her off feeling good about herself, starting off day, right

They both come back downstairs and you had a small breakfast ready for Eden. She wasn’t the biggest fan of scrambled eggs so you made her some pancakes and some apple slices.

“Morning sweetheart,” you say, as you kiss her head as she hops onto her seat at the table “ do you want a ham and cheese sandwich or peanut butter and jelly today?”

She stuffed her face with pancakes, and then spoke “ ham and cheese” she muffled out making Noah giggle

“Chew and swallow, first sweetheart, then answer” he said his thumb wiped away some syrup on her cheek. After she was done eating, she hands her plate to you and run back to her room to get her shoes on. You smile as you watch her run up the stairs

“We Made a really cute kid” no smells as he comes behind you and rest his hands on your hips. His chin rests in the crook of your neck as his arms wrapped around your middle pulling close as his lips kissed the corner of your jaw. His act of affection, bringing back memories when you had both moved in together. That was well before Eden was even born. Made you how far you had come with him. Through all of the arguments, disagreements, tours, and there were a lot of people who doubted it would work. You were honestly thrilled to have proved them wrong . Noah held your face in his hands and gazed upon your features.

His thumbs brush the skin under your eyes into your cheekbones. He gives you another loving kiss, one that reminded you of the day you had gotten married. It was a bit scary how fast the years were flying past you

“Eewww” you hear Eden whine as she finds her parents sharing an intimate moment in the kitchen. All Noah to do is giggle and turn to her.

“Oh yeah? You think this is gross? Just wait till I get to you!” Her laughter echoes through the house as Noah races to her and catches her in his arms. He sprinkles her face with kisses and tickles her sides with his fingers.

“Daddy!” She giggles and squeals

“I got you now princess!” he continues to smother her with as much love as possible.

Motherhood was definitely not easy. It has its ups and downs, physically, mentally, and emotionally. But there was something about moans like these that really made everything worth it. Every ounce of pain, every teardrop, every hour of sleep. The man of your dreams be an outstanding father to your children was honestly the icing on top.

“ You all right you too we have to get you to school. We will continue this later when you get home.” You smile as you go and get in the middle only make you know grab you and include you in the smothering. “Okay okay! We’re going to be late let’s go E!” You giggle and jump when you were met with a tap to your ass

Looking over your shoulder you see him with a smug smile. You give him the look, knowing that you would get him later on in the day.

Looking over to the rocker, he sees Keaton starts to wake up, but not cry cry. Simply just looking up at his tree of a father.

“ Well looks like it’s gonna be you and me for a little kea,” he smiles as he goes to the infant to pick him up. His large hands carefully cradling the infant. As simplistic as it may, one of Noah’s favorite things was to hold his kids. Not only did he take part in creating something so beautiful and pure and innocent. Also able to see traces of himself and you in your kids.

Like with Keaton, he can already tell he would resemble you more than him. And it was one of his favorite things. having a smaller version of yourself was fun and great to see. But what was better was seeing a smaller version of the woman he loves dearly.

He brings the baby up to his face and nuzzles his nose with his Keaton, opening his mouth and search of a nipple to latch onto

It makes him chuckle with a wide grin “wrong parent Keaton, must have your mom’s appetite, huh?”

Holding Keaton against his chest with one hand, he goes over to the freezer where he grabs one of your pumped bags of milk. While it warmed up, Noah got the couch ready to feed Keaton. He grabbed a blanket, a towel, and a pillow you use whenever you feed him

He was starting to smack his lips and whine a bit, getting a little fussy for his meal. It honestly made Noah laugh to see how serious his baby was about his feeding times. And typically he was on schedule almost every single day. I have been trying to convince you that Keaton knows much more than you both think despite him being just a couple of days old.

The milk is ready took his shirt off got Keaton comfortable and made sure that the milk was at a safe temperature. No with Noah’s philosophy he preferred to feed Keaton that shirt on so that he had more skin to skin time with him. Aside from it, being absolutely adorable, and him being an absolute self-aware father. It was also one of the most attractive things he could do. Worry about the well-being of your child, and he does see him shirtless more often? You’ll talks that any day anytime!

“You know when we were in the hospital, I was honestly really worried about you and your mom. When they said that they were complications every possibility is going through my head. I didn’t know if I should’ve stayed with you or if I should’ve stayed with her. I wanted to stay both of you, but they took you to the nursery. I didn’t wanna leave your mom by herself,” often times when it was Noah’s turn to feed Keaton he would just have these conversations with him “ but you pulled through like a champ, and your mom? She is the strongest person you will ever know in your life. I know you don’t really understand what I’m saying right now, but I love you more than words can describe.”

All Keaton could do is just look up at his father as he sled on his milk. His innocent eyes could only wonder what his father was even talking about. One thing he was grateful for was that both of your kids had your eyes. He loved staring into your eyes. Any chance that he had gotten. Now he had three pairs to look at every day.

Keaton finished every drop of his small bottle and yawned and satisfaction. Noah adjust himself so that he was able to burp Keaton, gently patting his back until the gases make their way out

"Good job Kea, good job" a bit of spit up came and splat down on to his sweat and Noah just stared and chuckled "well, thank you for the reward for feeding you,"

Noah got up from his spot and get the clothe baby sling. He got Keaton into the sling and strapped him in snug and secure to his chest. In the mean time Noah picked up the house before you come back home. He finished any dishes, made the bed, and anything in the living room. After finishing up he took a seat on the couch to play some video games and of course just observe and admire Keaton.

Booping his nose every now and then, causing a small scrunch to come on his features. Grabbing his phone he took some pictures to send to the guys. He loved bombing them with cuteness and torturing them with the adorableness of your babies. in his words, this was his new hobby. Just as he sent the picture you walk back into the house.

"hey sexy mama," he smiles at you as you lock the door behind you

"Hey, you know you look good in spit up. It really sells the DILF part" you joke with him as you take a look around and notice the house was picked up "Noah-"

"Ah," he cuts you off "don't even say anything. Now get your beautiful ass over here and cuddle with us."

You kick off your shoes and walk to your husband and baby. You sit next to him and peck his lips. You rest your head on his shoulder and gaze at the baby you made together. You Gently stroke his delicate head and feel the soft hairs under your fingertips. And just like his father, he was definitely going to have a lot of hair.

"so like.....do you wanna have another-"

"We just had him!" Noah laughs trying not to be too loud

"I can't help it! He's just so...Ugh! adorable" you say into his shoulder. You then rest Your chin on his shoulder and doesn't gaze at him. you're honestly very lucky to say the least, to have a husband who has helped you as much as he has now. of course, many would say that this is the bare minimum, and it's nothing to celebrate, but you just wanted to tell him how grateful you were to have someone like him by your side through something like having two kids.

"Noah?" you call quietly

"Hm?"

"I....I love you and thank you for being here...with me," you smile sincerely "You're my best friend, my partner and my lover and my rock....I'm just so lucky." you gush at him fighting back the emotions

"You're thanking me?" he whispers back as he leans forward " Sunshine, you truly don't understand who you are to me and what you mean to me. I will give up everything I have in this world if it means I would be able to see you happy you're literally the love of my life And you've given me two other reasons to keep going and to keep bettering myself everyday" He kisses your nose and nuzzles your face with his gently basking in. the beautiful and intimate moment with you and Keaton. Once Eden gets home, he would be sure to gush to her about how important she was to him.

「✨Taglist✨」 @lilhobgobbler @cncohshit @vir-tual @tdopomymind @concretenoah @misspygmypie @leneisdown @lust-for-sacher @thescarlettvvitch @cind6547 @itsmrsfuentes @lma1986 @daylightlvrs @darling-millicent-aubrey @daylightlvrs @artificialbreezy

#bad omens #noah sebastian #star’s anons✨#bad omens cult #noahsebastian #badomens #bad omens band #noah sebastian x reader #bad omens fanfiction

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vivian-pascal · 3 months

Text

Temptations

sub!Javier x dom!reader

summary: Being next door neighbors with Javier is a pain, he's always inviting people over and you can never get any peace or quiet. But when he comes to apologize, you know just what to do.

warnings: mention of sex, reader has breasts, javi being pussy drunk, piv (wrap it up), oral m!receiving, edging, teasing, mommy kink, nipple play, handjob, oral f!reveiving

authors note: hey!! this is the 200 followers special, I hope you all enjoy!

It was easy, moving to Bogata three years back. You'd already spoken fluent Spanish since your parents were born in Columbia and it was good to communicate with the fellow people of the city. The one thing that bothered you the most was heat, and, well, Javier Pena.

You could say they were the same thing. Heat and Javi. He was your next door neighbor in your little apartment complex. He'd said hello to you a couple times and even tried to flirt with you. Which never ended well of course. You would get scared and go into your apartment just leaving him there.

It's not like you could get rid of him either, he was right next to you. Literally. Today was just like any other day living next to him. You were just trying to have some nice, warm, soup while reading your book when you heard moaning and grunting. Not again.

You rose from your chair as you put your book down. You couldn't deal with this again so you walked out of your apartment and knocked on his door. You waited a little bit as you heard some chatter on the other end before Javier answered the door.

Seeing him shirtless, sweaty, and still hard in his boxers made you instantly wet and sticky inside. You cleared your throat before speaking. "Hey, do you mind keeping it down? I'm trying to have a relaxing night in and you're making too much noise."

He looks down at you and chuckles. "Not today mi hermosa." And with that, he shuts the door straight in your face. How rude. You angrily stomp back into your apartment as you hear them resume their "interrupted" spicy time.

You go into your kitchen and grab a glass, filling it with whiskey, you down it in one go. Setting it aside your sink deciding that you'll clean it tomorrow. You walk upstairs and head into your room. You get changed out of your comfy clothes and into a robe. Once you're in bed, you turn your lamp off and close your eyes.

You're roughly woken up when you suddenly hear knocking on your front door. You reach over and check the time to see it's not even midnight. You roll your eyes as you get out of bed and walk downstairs. You look through the peep hole and see that it's Javier.

You unlock the door a little as you look at him. He lifts his head and slowly begins to examine you. "Yes?" You look at him in frustration as he just stares. He clears his throat and adjusts his jacket. "Hey."

You look at him as you try and prod more information out of him on why exactly he's here. "Is that all Javi or what the hell?" His eyes are glued to your chest and he closes his eyes as he leans his weight on his right leg. "No, just, your robe." He opens his eyes and points to your chest.

When you look down, you can see your bare breast hanging out. "Shit." You try and quickly cover it with your hand as you tie your robe tighter around your body. "Well thanks." You roll your eyes as you begin to close the door but he leans his hand against it, stopping you.

He's so close. You can smell the faint scent of the whiskey he might've just had mixed with the smell of sex and cigarettes.

"I want to apologize." The fuck? The Javier Pena is apologizing. Never in a million years would you have thought that could be true. You crack a smile as you cross your arms in disbelief. His brows furrow when he sees your little smirk. "Okay then, what exactly are you sorry for Javier?" He groans at hearing his name roll so smoothly off your tongue.

"For bringing girls over, it's rude you know?" You scoff out a laugh. "You're joking right?" He shakes his head as he looks at you with those puppy eyes. You grab onto his jacket as you pull him inside your apartment. "I'm not amused by that Javi, I think I should show you how a good boy apologizes."

His eyes instantly go wide at hearing what you just said. He's never been in this situation before but he is livid. You drag him over and push him down onto a chair. "Take your jacket and shirt off, keep those jeans on." He nods at your command as he begins to remove his clothes.

You sit and admire at his quick work when he's removed both items you'd told him to take off. You stand up and sit on his lap. You lean in close to his face and direct your head so your mouth is level with his ear. "Now, you're going to listen to me, and me only. Whatever I say, you do. Got it?" He quickly nods his head as he closes his eyes.

"Oh and one more thing." You sit up and look at his face. You tilt his head up with your hand so you make sure he's looking directly at you. "You don't call me any other name but, Mommy."

His eyes instantly widen. He groans at your words. You can feel how hard he is in his jeans and you love it. You slowly begin to drag your nails along his bare chest and down to his happy trail.

He groans at the feeling and thrusts his hips up into you. You bring your hands to his head and run your fingers through his curls. "Take my robe off Javi." He looks at you in a silent agreement as he slowly moves his delicate fingers along the silky fabric. He grabs onto the two strings and pulls them apart.

He lets the robe fall and opens his mouth in awe at your gorgeous body. "Hermosa" You chuckle at his sneaky pet name and grab onto both of his hands. You lean closer to him as you carefully bring his hands behind the chair. "You keep them like this. Don't move them." He nods at your rules and you begin to stand up.

He watches your every move like a hawk hunting for it's prey. His beautiful, chocolate eyes now a harsh shade of black as he sees you get down on your knees between his legs. You drag your nails along his covered thighs and down to his feet.

You carefully remove his shoes and throw them close to the door. You sit up on your thighs as you carry your nails to the zipper of his jeans. Your eye level with his very obvious hard on, and you decide to play a little game.

You gently drag your nails over his covered dick and he groans at the contact. You begin to rub against the fabric and his face distorts in pleasure. Your nails drag up to his zipper and slowly pull it down.

"No boxers? Isn't that just a sweet surprise." You chuckle lowly as he lets out a little whimper. "Carino." He warns as you push his pants down all the way, removing it from his ankles and throwing it next to his shoes. "Se buena para mi Javi." He rolls his head back against the chair as you gently rest a hand on his leaking cock.

He's big. You'd known that from the start and you just can't wait to get him inside of you, but first, he needs to learn some proper manners.

You begin to slowly rub your hand up and down his shaft. Making sure to pay extra attention to his leaking tip. Dragging your nail on the underside of his cock while the other slowly teases his balls.

He moans when you squeeze his aching cock and thrusts his hips into your hand. Your movements stop immediately and he whines as he looks down at you in a silent plea to keep going.

"Javier, what did I say?" He groans as you begin to work him up again. "Javi?" He whines as he looks at you. "To only do what you say." You nod your head as you begin to lick a long stripe up his cock. Your nose just about tickles his coarse hairs as you squeeze his balls. He lets out a loud growl at the feeling and grips the legs of the chair.

His legs begin to shake when you take him in your mouth. Gagging on his cock as he hits the back of your throat. His breathing starts to pick up and just when he's about to come, you pull off.

He lets out a shattering cry. "The fuck did you do that for?" You look at him from where you're sat and he instantly regrets saying that. "I'm sorry." You sit up and rest your thighs on his legs. "What'd you just say to me?" You look him in the eye as you grab onto his cock and forcefully tug. He grits his teeth as he curls his toes.

"I didn't mean it just please." You run your thumb along his slit and his eyes roll back. "Please what?" He hums as you begin to rub your seeping pussy over his dick. "Please mommy." You chuckle as you grab onto one of his nipples and twist it. "Good boy."

He moans at the new feeling and you sink down onto him. His mouth drops into an O shape and you moan at his thick girth. Your thighs meet his and he grits his teeth. You begin to slowly roll your hips against his and he thrusts up into you. You start to bounce up and down on his cock and he whimpers as his mind begins to race.

"Mommy wait-" You don't stop your movements as you begin to kiss his chest. He groans and grits as he tries to stop himself but he just can't hold it any longer. His legs begin to shake and you only realize what's happening when he lets out a long, guttural, groan.

You feel his hot seed spill inside you. It doesn't seem to stop. Just an endless stream of liquid filling you up to the brim. When his hips come to a stutter and stop, you look down and see the mess he's made.

"Well that's not very lady like now is it? Making a mess all over mommy." You dip your fingers between your cunt and his dick, grabbing some of his cum and reaching it up to your face. You insert your fingers into your mouth and suck off his cum.

You can feel his dick twitch inside you as he watches the scene unfold in front of him. You get off of him and he groans at the loss.

You move your body up and onto his belly as you grab his hair and yank him onto your pussy. "Be a good boy and make me come." He moans as he gets the first taste of your cunt.

He laps at his cum and your arousal while burying his nose on your clit. You begin to slowly grind on his face as he sticks his tongue into your weeping hole. "Fuck." You reach up and play with your nipples. Squeezing and rubbing at the delicate skin to add to the sensation.

He shakes his head back and forth and you moan aloud as you feel the coil in your stomach tighten. "Jesus Javi, oh God." He brings his hands up from behind the chair and grabs onto your thighs, pushing you further down onto him.

You know he broke a rule but you're too caught up in the moment that you couldn't care less. His movements speed up and you're immediately coming. You moan and whine as he drinks everything that comes out of you.

He rests his head on your belly as you reach behind and grab onto his legs for support. You're both breathing heavily and you begin to stroke his hair. "You okay?" He looks up at you and smiles. "Si mami." You smirk as you reach up and kiss him. You look outside and still see that it's dark. "You wanna be a good boy?" He nods his head as you scrape your nails through his scalp.

"How about you make up for coming before I told you too?"

translations-

si mami- yes mommy

carino- darling

se buena para mi Javi- be good for me javi

hermosa- beautiful

tags!!

@kotourasan123 @heartramen @tupelomiss @simplewanderer @amyispxnk @ursagittariusgirlfriend @livingonthehems @heartpascalispunk @pinkcrystal44 @iamsherlocked

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedropascal #javier pena smut #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x reader #javier peña #javier pena x you #javier pena narcos #Javier pena #narcos fanfiction

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141shousewife · 3 months

Text

You like movies? You wanna make one?

Minors DNI I WILL eat you.

ill make this another part if it does well

cw: nsfw, price x female reader, TA reader x Professor! Price, slight jealousy/arguing, filming, price x plus size reader

Johns voice echos inside of the linoleum lecture hall. You quietly listen to the scribbles of a red pen and the sound of his voice. Normally the sound from his auditorium during lectures is moderate, but today he is particularly chipper as his voice bleeds into the shared office you currently revise essays in.

"-Excellent! and what do you think the director is trying to convey with this wide frame shot?"

Your eyes continue to graze over the same words again and again: "Director" "Shot" "Film" "Cinematography" "Intention" "Audience"

You love your job, but reading first years' dull writing for over an hour and a half has your eyes and brain hurting.

Being John's TA had a lot of quirks; good pay, free snacks, and lots of academic validation that you will not expand on in front of your friends when questioned, and lastly the sharply dressed professor that lounges around and insists on your everlasting 'genius', and is admittedly fun to run your eyes over and imagine him slowl-

"ALRIGHT- that is going to wrap up our time for today, it's Friday so I don't want to keep you all. Remember to make good choices and turn in your makeups by 11:59 on Sunday. Okay, get outta here."

You rest your eyes and listen to the symphony of zipping backpacks, chairs being pushed in, and the different conversations of "i gotta turn in-" or "what are you doing this weekend-" quickly zip by the door of the closed office. You take a moment to settle into your rolling chair as you hear Price sending off students warmly. His brown suede dress shoes quietly grow louder as they hit the tile close and closer to the office door.

Price's office is cushy and expansive. There is enough room for more than the desk, rug, couch, and mini-fridge fill the space a subpar amount. The two desks that occupy the warmly lit, carpeted room are positioned across the room from each other. John's desk is littered with a desk lamp, books stacked on top of each other, a desk of pens and a closed cigar case.

As you hear the him begin to answer the last few questions from students while slowly opening the office door, you gather your materials and move to the couch and sit beneath the warm throw that adorns it.

The couch dips in on itself significantly and creaks under your wide bottom as you curse it for its announcement.

"Of course- and if you have any more questions feel free to email me."

The girl that you see him talking to- the sliver of her that you can see is smaller than you and blonde, she catches her hair in between two of her fingers and leans into his personal space.

"Could I come to your office for help on my essay, this Saturday, around say 6?

Not fully understanding what she is asking, he straightens out his back in concern and responds to her in a hushed tone.

"Do you not have a device in order to submit an email? If not the library is open from 9 am to 9 pm during the weekend."

She provides even less space for him and looks up with a smile.

"No Professor, I do, I just meant if I needed some... special help"

He maintains a warm demeanor but shuts her down

" I'm afraid not- My office hours are for working and if you make a comment like that again I am at liberty to report you to the dean, so I would suggest you leave now. Have a nice weekend."

He opens the door fully to enter and shuts it behind him and the blonde pads away quietly with less of her dignity than before. He rolls his eyes as he greets you.

"You can't make this stuff up. Flirting when she hasn't even turned in her essay on time. Bold."

You speak without fully thinking; wondering why Price is acting so insulted by a conventionally good looking girl shmoozing him. As he sets his laptop and other things on his desk you speak.

"She was a pretty girl John. It's not like its such a low blow."

John turns quickly quirks his head "You can't seriously be implying I would date some...kid? one of my students? She's not my type. "

You immediately jump to defend yourself with in hindsight- a bit too much gusto.

You say while sarcastically chuckling "I wasn't saying that! and come on it's just us, she- girls like her, are everyone's type."

John steps closer to where you are sat on the couch and looks down at you with his eyes furrowed and his hands in his pockets.

"Well she's not mine."

He reaches over on top of his desk a grabs a cigar, he quietly throws a "You mind?" over his shoulder and upon you responding "You're all good." he clips his cigar and lights it.

He turns around and steps closer as puffs it and he eyes you over.

His gaze is- uncomfortably intense, in a way that makes you wanna say sorry- or maybe start stripping...

He seems to catch wind of you being in thought.

"What do you care anyway?"

You look at him to respond but nothing comes out of your mouth as he sits the cigar down and steps closer to you until he's standing over you. His legs stand interlinked with yours and brushes them.

You feel something other worldly pull your body up to stand in front of him. You stare at him breathlessly and try to ignore the cinnamon, sandalwood and cigar smoke that's making you want to rub your-

John's voice pulls you out of another depraved thought

"I can't believe you think a girl like that is my type. I date women. Grown women. "

Your voice barely sounds like your own. You barely get the words out.

" I swear that wasn't what I meant. I just thought-"

John cuts you off "I know what you thought, you thought I was going to let you have a self deprecation fest, but I'm telling you that the women I want.. don't look, talk, or think like her. I don't want girls."

"I like women. Women who look, talk, and think like you." He toys with the bottom of your skirt in a way that makes your face grow warm, his hand brushing against your thick thigh.

You start to protest immediately, " You don't need to flatter me John, I'm sorry."

John starts speaking over you in frustration, "Why is it unbelievable that I would prefer you? I'm not flattering you. I'm not a liar or someone who compliments out of pity, you know what- here"

He huffs and grabs your wrist and places your hand directly over his khaki covered hard-on and whispers

"Does that feel like pity to you?"

As you stare at him dumbfounded, John's hand reaches up and holds the base of your skull with his large hand.

All of your breath re-enters your lungs like he just jump-started your entire system.

John looks at you with mischief you cannot quite place.

"How about I help you see how good you look?"

You track his gaze towards his Nikon and immediately look at him in horror.

"You wanna record me? No. Absolutely not. I look horrible on camera and you want to film my O-face and chubbiness from a side profile? You've lost it!"

"Honey, if you don't want to film because you're uncomfortable we can forget it right now, but if this is about the way your 'chubbiness' looks then I'm telling you that I wanna see this body. On me. On video."

#john price #john price cod #john price x plus size reader #john price x reader

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ellaa-writes · 5 months

Note

Do you mind making a fanfic where König slowly falls in love with the reader that's the team medic. And can it be smut towards the end that's more vanilla than rough?

Hiii! Thank you for the request. Also sent back in November. I always get carried away with these. CW; alcohol consumption but over all its very tame and a little fluffy :)

Working for Kortac wasn't always easy but it sure was awarding. Being the team medic/doctor had its perks. You mostly worked on base, or different outposts. You rarely experienced field work, but you weren't completely useless. The rest of the team wouldn't allow it, specially the Colonel.

You train with them, eat with them, shower with them, cause you are one of them.

As well as going out after a successful mission, when everyone is preparing for there leave. A nice hooray before a break.

You've been with Kortac for little over a year now, you made friendships with almost everyone. The Lifesaver they call you, out of respect and also taking the piss. Getting a nickname meant you were really family.

You don't talk about your personal life, no one does and no one asks questions. But it's not like you want to talk about your failures and joining the military was you lose ditch effort to pursue your dreams. Working in the hospital wasn't ideal anymore, the mundane day after day was draining you. And your tremors destroyed your opportunity to your goal as a board certified surgeon.

Wearing your civvy clothes, nothing special. Your favorite pair of jeans, a simple top and chunky boots. It's a tad chilly so you threw a warm leather jacket over it to tie it all in. Taking a cab with Roze to the local bar. Chatting about plans and wants. Roze using her leave to go climb a mountain. Telling her you wish you had her ambition and discipline. And her telling you that she could teach you some time.

The cab stopped in front of the bar, a fairly busy night. A small group of people were gathered around chatting and smoking cigarettes. Some of them you recognize as your teammates, and the Colonel. He made you dizzy, every time your eyes find him every cell in your body buzzes. Like flies to a street lamp.

Like a million butterflies in your tummy, beating against the inside tying to break out. You waving back to the ones that waved to you, making your way into the bustling bar. Leading the way to the bar, Roze close behind.

"We should find a both, I'm not being stuck at a fucking table." Roze gritted into your ear, remembering the last time you two went out with the boys. "Go find one I'll order our drinks. The usual?" you offered. She gave you a big smile and squeeze to your upper arm. "You are a doll, do you know that?" she yelled as she made her way through the crowd.

You finally flagged down the busy bartender, ordering Roze her vodka soda and your old fashion. Looking out into the crowd trying to find the others. Spotting them at a big booth in the back, a big screen rght above playing some sort of football game.

With a loud clink the bartender dropped the drinks in front, snatching the change out of your hand before turning away to help another. Carefully making your way through the crowd to the others, watching has Roze and Hutch lively convo. Setting the drink down before sliding it over to Roze who mouthed a silent thank you to you.

You slid into the other end of the both the faced out towards the bar, right up to a very tired looking Oni who looked unintereseted in whatever Horangi was saying. "What's up cool cat." he cooed to you, his big arm snaking around to give you a tight hug. "Getting drunk." you cheered raising your drink, the two cheering in agreement as they clinked their glass against eachother.

"Room for one more?" his thick deep accent purred for behind you. Colonel König sliding in beside you, taking up the rest of the both. Causing you to shift over to Oni to your right. "You smell like shit." Horangi exclaimed, raising his glass towards König. Causing the giant to bark with laughter, raising his pint towards the Korean. Causing some to slosh to the side and drip in front of you.

Indistinctively making you jump back to not get any of the stinky lager to get on you. "Sorry about the doll." his rumbling voice reached your ears. Making you blush and say "It's all good sir." taking a big gulp of your drink. Shrinking back as the others talked, stopping once in a while to include you.

König's leg brushing up against yours every now and than. If you were any the wiser you'd think he was doing it on purpose. Downing the last of your drink you plopped it on the solid table with a clank. König eyeing the empty glass while he finished his own. Kindly taking it with him as he went to get another fill.

Roze gave you an odd look from across the table, you just shrugged it off. She's been trying to convince you that the Austrian has been pinning for you. You brush it off as him being kind, but he's never that kind. Small things like bringing you things he found that reminded you of him. Small like trinkets and tchotchkes, either hand delivering them himself or leaving at your door.

Always being the first on the team, even before the muscle. Having first pick over any new recruits, a small luxury. Like you said, he's just kind. And very straight forward and to the point. A confident and cocky man, that knows what he wants and always gets it. And it's definitely not you.

It wasn't long until the Colonel returned with his drink and yours, setting down a colorful fruity drink in front of you. Causing a laugh from the others, but you just blinked at it. "I think this is yours." as you shifted it across the table to Hutch. Who gladly took the free drink cause booze is booze baby. "Aw Koni pal, you shouldn't have." he nearly had it to his lips before König thick hand grabbing Hutch's wrist, giving it a light squeeze before saying "It's not yours." in his husky accent. Bringing it back to you, holding it out. "Do you not like?" he asked curiously.

You weren't sure what was happening, was this some joke that you just didn't understand. "No." you said flatly, eyeing Roze for some help but she just eagerly gulped down her own ignoring you. "Can you excuse me." as you brushed passed the giant now looking at the drink in confusion.

Going to the bar you ordered two shots of the strongest liquor they had. Taking them down like a champ you asked for another old fashion. Feeling a warm hard body brush up next to you, seeing the Colonel standing beside you with that stupid drink still in his hand.

"I'm sorry Katze, I thought you would like." he started to explain. The bartender interrupting to give you your whiskey, taking a quick sip before König moved the drink so it was next to you. "It reminds me of you, that's all." he finished. You snorted into your glass and nearly choked on the smooth amber. Huffing out a coughing laugh.

"I'm sorry sir, but how does that remind you of me?" you giggled, finally feeling the alcohol settle into your worn bones.

"It's colorful like you." he said confidently and also confused at how you dont see it. "I'm colorful?" you asked, taking the drink from his hand. Your fingers lightly brushing against his, bringing the liquid to your nose before downing the whole thing in one try. And setting it back into his hand that remained in place.

König eyes widened at your bold display, a fire burning into them as he watched you lips grip the rim of the curved glass. The way your necked bobbed as you swallowed the sweet liquid. The fire burning a path straight to his pants. Feeling himself grow to life and strain against the front zipper.

"It's nice to see you like this sir." you blurted out and immediately regretting it. Ok, last drink and your leaving, you scolded yourself. "What do you mean?" his curosity peeked. You waved his answer away, getting embarssed by your loose lips. "Dont get shy on me now." he pushed. Moving hs big body into yours more, pining you to the bar stool.

"It's just, your so human." you whispered. A little nervous to his reacton, but instead he leaned his head back and barked out a laugh. Causing people around to jump at the sudden loud sound. A few moving away from the big man.

"That was a good one Katze." he leaned further down to your face. "I like seeing you like this." his hand slowly running from your wrist to your neck, holding it in place. "Like what sir?" you mummured, eyeing his lips as they moved closer to your own. "Flustered." he breathed into your mouth, closing the gap and kissing you deeply. His hand moving to the back of your head to keep you in place. Your lungs seizing to produce air as you felt his soft lips move against yours.

He pulled away slowly, moving his hand to your face, running his thumb over your bottom lip. Your lungs screamed, finally sucking in a deep breath. You could feel the heat rise to your face, you must look like a tomato right now.

"So damn cute." he continued, looking away from you to your abandoned drink at the bar. "Are you done?" he questioned. You were buzzing, almost right out of your skin. So light headed all you could do his shake your head yes. König took that as his sign to make a move, so he lead you out of the bar into the cold night.

"This way doll." as he pulled you to the direction of the quiet street, you could spot the bmw shining under the moon light. "I'll drive us back." he reached the passenger door, holding it open for you as you climbed in. Closing it softly as he jogged to the drivers side, climbing in and the car roared to life.

The drive back to the base passed in a flash, König nearly dragging you through the building towards his own room. His high status warrants his own private quarters. A small living and dining area, followed by his bedroom and attached bathroom. He unlocked the door with haste and pulled you in. Spinning you around so you were pushed against the back of the door.

His strong body on yours, you heard the click of the lock slide into place. König lips once again on yours, nipping and sucking. Making a trail down your neck, pulling the zipper of your jacket down and off your arms. Tossing it towards his table, his hands finding your ass and hauling you up. You legs mindlessly wrapping around his waist, tugging him into your core more. Earning a low moan, vibrating from his chest.

He yanked at the collar of your shirt, a clean tear running down the front exposing your breast to his mouth. Pulling a yelp from you as he nipped at the sensitive skin. He turned you both around and towards his room, kicking the door open and dropping you on the bed.

"Sir-" you tried to let out but König's lips swallowed your words. "Shhh, baby. Let me make you feel good. Ja." he whispered into your mouth, making you melt into the bed. All you could do was shake your head has you fully leaned back, closing your eyes.

König made good with your clothes, leaving you only in your panties. You watched has he removed his shirt and shoved his jean and brief's to the floor, kicking them away as he climbed back on and slotted himself between your thighs.

Pining your spread knees to your stomach, rubbing his face against your clothed core. His big nose carding its self along your slit, building pressure against your clit. Pulling moans from you, throwing your head back.

König took his time, running his face up and down your thighs. Kissing from your ankle to your inner thigh, over your soaking core, and down the other leg. Licking path across your skin and blowing on the wetness, goosebumps spreading across your body.

Pulling your hard buds into his mouth, swirling his tongue around and sucking. His teeth grazing on the sensitive nipple and lightly nipping. Relishing in the noises hes drawing from you. Humming in approval, slowly pulling down your panties and letting them get lost on the bed.

His fingers find your center, the thick heavy digits ghosting up and down. Gathering the wetness that pushed through, pressing his wide thumb right against your clit. Making you buck into his hand more, König's mouth still on your tits.

He worked his thick middle finger into you, slowly opening you for him. Working knuckle by knuckle, whispering praises into your ear. Pushing another finger into you, making you whimper at the stretch.

"Ko, please." you pleaded with him, feeling his low chuckle. His hot mouth against your ear, cooing "Patience love." as his fingers pump in and out of you. Feeling your slick slide down your ass and onto the sheets.

Whining at the loss of his fingers, but feeling the head of his dick running up and down. Collecting your wetness and spreading it over him before the tip catches you needy hole. Snapping his hips fowards ripped a cry from your throat. Your legs clamping around him and tightening.

"Shh, shhh. Quiet now pretty girl. I'm sorry, I'll be more carefully." and he kept true to his word. His cock slowly stretching you open, your warm folds inviting him in. Squeezing and pulsing around him, König cherished every moment.

Sensually thrusting in and out, lazily rolling his hips. Making sure he pulls orgasm after orgasm from your body.

Not stopping until your begging and pleading with him. Incoherently going on about it being too much, too sensitive.

König could lose himself in you, deeper and deeper. Holding back to not scare you. Wanting to make it all about his sweet little medic. The moment he laid eyes on you he was hooked. Those sweet eyes and kind smile, how quick and smart you were. Such a soft thing, you shouldn't be in this line of field.

Finally letting himself go, he buried himself deeper. Releasing pressed right up against your cervix, shoveling as much as he could to your core. Letting out one last guttural moan as he collapsed onto you, only rolling over when you started banging against his back. Taking you with you, you settled on his chest.

König laid out completely satisfied, head back and eyes closed. He could feel you staring at him.

"Sleep" he commanded. Hearing your giggle as you continued to stare.

#cod mw2 #könig #konig #könig mw2 #konig mw2 #konig cod #könig cod #konig x reader #konig x you #könig x reader #könig x you #könig call of duty #cod könig #cod konig #könig x fem reader

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i-am-hungry-24-7 · 5 months

Text

Spider Webs Part 2 - König*Fem!Reader

Let’s play a game with our colonel.

Part two of my previous writing:

content warning: 18+, mdni, phone sex, masturbation, monitoring

100% will have part 3 because this isn’t what I’m planning first and I accidentally made myself need to write another chapter to finish this work, but hope you enjoy! :)

part 3 bonus chapter 1

Since the day König discovered your obsession with him at your home, your relationship shifted from “superior and subordinate” to something much more intimate, between lovers and predators with their prey.

Who is the predator, and who is the prey? Nice question.

You would feign that you were going to give him his favorite latte and report some “important information”, went into his office, and came out 20 minutes later.

“gott, your hands... so tight... shit...! ahh...”Your delicate hands wrapped tightly around his cock, moving at a swift pace, and after you gave him a playful squeeze on the tip, König came with a moan in your hand, cum splattered on your black shirt.

“Oooh, colonel.” You said with a fake concerned tone “You’re too loud, and you stained my shirt. Do you want your comrades to know what a slutty pervert you are? Cumming hard in your assistant’s hands behind the door of your office?”

“Nein...”

His voice was raspy, weakly spoken due to the exhaustion of post-orgasm.

You took out your handkerchief — the one you hid before so he would come to your house to find it — wiping the cum from your hand and your clothes while maintaining eye contact with König.

“Let’s play a game, colonel.” A mischievous smile appeared on your face. “From now on, no more self pleasuring, no more helping each other, or even sex for us."

“Whoever breaks the rules first needs to listen to the other person's order.” He watched you fold the handkerchief into a perfect square, put it on his desk, and left him panting on his chair.

You didn’t give him a chance to reject, not like he wouldn’t oblige though.

You gave him three tiny monitors and told him to set them up in his office and his room, of course, no blind spots were allowed. In return, you gave him access to those monitors you set up before to catch him sneaking into your house.

With these monitors, you both were able to see what the other was doing all the time.

Including the bathroom, because you both were sick perverts.

König’s libido wasn't that high until he met you, so he thought he might be able to beat you by imagining what he could do to you as a reward for the longtime self-control he maintained during your dangerous game.

But apparently, you weren’t an easy competitor to be beaten.

Sometimes he opened his laptop, clicked on the app for the monitors, and saw you walking in a black nightgown, the silky and close-fitting one that hugs your curves and challenged his self-control.

Well, you should admit he was doing much better than you estimated too.

You bought a second monitor for your computer, just for you to watch him every moment, and he really didn’t do anything sex-related.

You praised him right into his ear when he sat on his office chair, noticing him clutched onto the armrest hard enough to make his knuckles white, but he still played the game pretty well.

But no matter how he well performed, it’s still your game, you would win, eventually.

König came back from a two-week mission at night, it’s not arduous, but it’s an annoying one.

He walked to his office, took off his gear, and sat on his chair with a tired grunt.

The curtains were down, avoiding any moonlight pouring into the room,and he sat under the dim light of the lamp, eyes flickered around, finally lying on his laptop.

What were you doing now?

He missed you, he hadn’t seen you for two weeks, he missed the little praises you whispered to him, missed the heart-warming smile you gave to others, which only turned to a fetching one when you looked at him with evil glints in your eyes.

Open the laptop and clicked on the app he opened countless times before, he searched over the monitors to find your figure.

and there you are, lying on your bed, wearing a silver-white nightgown this time.

Your chest rose and fell at a steady pace, your facial expression was calm.

You looked divine in his eyes, like a goddess.

But his gaze moved down, to the place the strap of the nightgown fell down your shoulder, and down to the part of your skirt riding up, revealing your thigh.

König felt his body was consumed by fire, burning fiercely at the sight of you, even though you looked serene, the dirty thoughts about you were unstoppable in his mind.

How eager he wanted to kiss your soft lips, grab your thighs and ram into your pussy with an unforgivable pace, and left a bite mark on your shoulder until you cry out his name loudly.

He looked at the monitor again, you hadn't moved an inch, dead asleep because it was already midnight at the moment.

He hesitantly put his hand over the obvious bulge his cock made in his cargo pants. You wouldn’t discover if he pleasured himself this time, right?

but when he touched his shaft over his pants, he knew it was unable to stop right now.

He quickly pulled his cargo pants to his knee, letting his cock spring out with how hard it already was, the precum made a mess to his palm when he started moving his hand at a quick speed.

“Hmm...so gut...” He closed his eyes, recalling the memory of you falling to your knees, pink lips swallowing his cock, and he could almost hear the squelch sounds when you took him deep down in your throat.

but his breath hitched and a stuttered groan left him when he opened his eyes again.

You stared right at him through the camera, the corner of your eyes crinkling as your lips formed a cheeky grin.

Oh, he was so fucked up.

He watched you reached your arm, opened the bedside drawer, and took out your phone.

His work phone rang a few seconds later.

“Good evening, sir.” Your happiness was obvious in your voice. “What are doing now? Hmm?”

“I’m sorry, Schatz...” König moaned out, but his hand only became quicker once your voice flowed into his ear.

“Don’t feel sorry, colonel.” You cooed, and his eyes were glued to your body when you sat up on the edge of your bed, eyes never left the camera.

“Just came back from a tough mission, right? I know, don’t worry.” Your leg are placed over the other. “Let me help you, okay?”

“Bitte... I need you, h-help me...” König’s hand shakily holding his phone, and he knew he must sounded pathetic.

“I missed you so much, König. You know that?” You shift your hips a little bit, pulling your nightgown higher, and higher until fully expose your lacy black underwear to him.

“How much I want to lay my hands on you..... feel your cock twitch under my touch......”

You opened your legs. König can see it clearly even through the monitor, your panties were already been soaked by your arousal, making a darker spot at the clothes cling to your pussy, and he moaned out at the sight.

“When you come to the office in the daytime, what should I do to you as my trophy? Should I make you lick all my juices when I sit on your face, making your hood dampen by them? Or should I bring you a collar with my name on it, and make you mine forever?”

König already felt like he was about to cum, too long without having any relief, without seeing your pretty face and hearing your sugary words,making his orgasm build up much faster than usual.

“Ja! Make me yours! Bitte... Mach mich zu deinem...verlass mich nicht...ahh” (Make me yours...don’t leave me)

He tumbled over the edge with a high pitch whine, lukewarm cum spilled all over his skin and his abdomen, and in his hazy mind, he could only hear your enchanting voice, telling him the thing he wanted to hear the most.

“Good...So good for me. Now, ready for your punishment, yeah?”

#könig #konig x reader #könig x reader #könig x you #konig smut #cod imagine #female pronouns

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