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rafescurtainbangz · 3 days

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Frat Rafe Headcanons +18 Minor DNI

Ask: @babygorewhore Baby I need more frat rafe headcannons please feed me mommy

Sorry this took me so long, babe. Thank you so much for your ask Also, if you haven't, please read @xxbimbobunnyxx frat carwash blurb you should because it’s so cute. Those carwash videos make me blush for reallll. And I swear I'll be dropping some pervfrat!rafe part 2 soonish

Also I dropped fic yesterday and didn't tag people 😭 here

unedited

Pet names, unprotected p in v, mentions of oral sex, public sex, choking, jealousy, ownership kink, perv Rafe, recording sex, possessive, mentions of fighting, degradation

Meeting Him…

Frat Rafe - Who first noticed you from across the lecture hall. Luckily for him, you were sitting next to a pledge who quickly switched seats the second Rafe gave him a hard look. He didn't say a whole lot at first, chuckling to himself as he watched a little blush creep across the apples of your cheeks when he spread his thighs slightly brushing his knee against yours.

Frat Rafe - Who couldn't take his eyes off of you through the soapy glass at the Fraternity Car Wash. You shamelessly recorded the show, giggling and smiling as he and his brothers washed cars between slow grinds and finger-drawn hearts. A very wet Rafe Cameron somehow made it through the car window, his tall frame barely fitting inside the cab as he continued to work for your cash. He danced to the music blaring through the speakers, smiling cheekily as you tucked a few extra dollars in his short red trunks.

Frat Rafe - Who waved you down before you could pull out of the lot, jogging up to your freshly cleaned car, asking you to come out to the bar that night.

Frat Rafe - Who sent three back-to-back text messages before you could pull away, the third making your mouth fall open. You looked through the window, watching Rafe chuckle and smirk, pretty proud of himself at the reaction that he got from you and the smile you couldn't take off your lips.

Frat Rafe - Who you fucked after the first date. You couldn't stop thinking about him after the carwash, his tanned, toned skin glistening in the sun. It was unclear just how many times you watched that fucking video, but it was a lot. You couldn't wait to get your hands on him. Rafe Cameron lived up to every one of the rumors. The sex was amazing, the best you ever had, rough and slow, fast when you needed it. His long thick cock filled you deliciously. It seemed like he was always one step ahead of you; like he knew what you wanted before you even asked. His beautiful blue eyes were always on you, hazed with sex. His soft lips and tongue pleased you again and again ‘til you were a babbling mess.

Dating Frat!Rafe…

Frat Rafe - Who’s affectionate and gentle with you. Only you get to see that side of him, Rafe, reserving all his sweetness for you.

Frat Rafe - Who loves to wrap his strong arm around your neck in doggy, tugging you as close as possible, ‘til you're begging him to let you cum.

Frat Rafe - Who went absolutely crazy the first time you called him daddy. The petname quickly became his favorite.

Frat Rafe - Who loves to brag about you to his frat brothers, especially when he's drunk. The blonde, quick to remind them how much better you are than the girls they are hitting on to the point where it's downright rude. You’ll scold his tipsy ass, and he’ll sass you as he continues to dog his friend until you have no choice but to smash your lips against his and steal the words off his lips.

Frat Rafe - Who sent you this message just a few days after you started talking:

Little did you know how much it was on his mind. He hated that you weren't official. A much as Rafe wanted you to belong to him, he wanted to belong to you.

Frat Rafe - Who asked you out that night ‘cause he couldn't wait any longer.

Frat Rafe - Who loves sneaking away with you at parties. Sure, he loves showing you off, but his favorite thing to do is chill in his truck, listening to music while the two of you share a joint and talk.

Frat Rafe - Who would rather spend every night at your place than the frat house because he can actually relax. Some nights you go to sleep alone and wake up with Rafe’s strong body hugging you from behind after he let himself in with the key you had cut just for him. He couldn't sleep and needed you.

Frat Rafe - Who lives in weathered fraternity t-shirts and snapbacks if he's not rocking a crisp polo. At any function, Rafe’s hat usually ends up on your head, one way or another, left on from time to time when you suck him off or ride his cock.

Frat Rafe - Who doesn't trust any of his frat brothers around you but Top. If you’re coming over to hang out he's meeting you out at your car to walk you in. If you're at a party his hand is in yours, resting on your back, draped over your shoulder, or wrapped around your waist. He loves the contact just as much as he loves keeping you safe.

Frat Rafe - Who texts you cute/horny shit when he's drunk and you're away.

He often questions how he got so lucky or why are you dating me again? Rafe knows you love him, he just loves hearing it. His frat brothers also know when you're gone for the weekend because Rafe turns into an absolute dick, bitching about everything until you're back.

Frat Rafe - Who doesn't care if people can hear the two of you having sex in fact he loves it. Rafe coaches you through each orgasm, trying hard to get you screaming for him.

"C'mon, princess... Let these boys hear how good daddy’s givin’ it to you."

"Shh... Baby, I'd hate for all these guys to hear what a filthy fuckin’ slut you are f’me."

“Bet he didn't think I was fuckin’ you right. What do you think he thinkin’ now huh?”

He also loves watching you walk back into the party all flushed and wobbly knowing that he was the reason you were weak in the knees. Rafe loves to mark you with love bites, and hand prints, dark hickies on your cleavage that peek out of your low-cut dress, pairing beautifully with the sparkly little R pendant around your neck.

Frat Rafe - Who dedicates every Wednesday night for date night and will never let a frat meeting or function interfere.

Frat Rafe - Who’s a surprisingly good dancer. He’ll only dance at the bar if he's wasted, but when he does, your ass is pressed up against him with his strong hands clutching your hips. It doesn't take long until you’re dress is bunched up around your waist, panties pushed to the side, with Rafe’s pants in a puddle around his ankles as he fills you up in the dingy bar bathroom. On the other hand, if you’re at the frat house, it only takes a song or two until your bent over the bathroom sink or pressed up against the hallway wall.

Frat Rafe - Who couldn't wait for Spring Break. Each drunken day was spent at the beach with his frat brothers and your friends - each night, a different bar. But Rafe made sure you still had some moments alone whether it be to take you shopping, share a beer, or watch the sunset.

Frat Rafe - Who got rid of his dirt bike and bought a motorcycle instead. Of course, making sure he bought a helmet for you so he could bring you to class or for a cruise around campus.

Frat Rafe - Who fell in love with you all over again when you made him a beer poster with yourself as the model. You had no idea how much he loved it until you showed up to the next frat party and saw it framed on the wall.

Frat Rafe - Who’s gotten in trouble with the law a few times for fighting. Rafe, no stranger to a fight on account of you when someone tries to start shit or gets handsy. He never ends up making it to jail, usually talking or paying his way out of it.

Frat Rafe - Who knows your class schedule like the back of his hand. Whenever he's at the library he’ll text you and ask if you need a study break which is code for stuffing you full of his cock in study room D.

Frat Rafe - Who jealously gets the better of him, and when he pisses you off, all it takes is a flirty smile and a wave at one of his frat brothers or a hockey player to set him off. The rest of the night consists of rough, possessive sex, and punishment which somehow turns into sweet, slow passionate sex where's he's mumbling I love you’s and I’m sorry’s between deep strokes and kisses.

Frat Rafe - Who loves it when you wear his clothes, especially his oversized frat t-shirts paired with your cute little panties.

Frat Rafe - Who sends you gym selfies because he knows how crazy they make you, especially post-workout shots.

Frat Rafe - Who couldn't keep his hands or eyes off you at the frat formal. It was hard not to think about the future when you looked so pretty in your white sparkly dress.

Frat Rafe - Who’s fiercely loyal. You never need to worry about other girls around him, but the sight of it still makes you jealous. Rafe is quick to assure you you're all he wants and needs.

Frat Rafe - Who has a thing for your panties. The lacey and prettier the better; wrapped around the shift of his truck, looped over the hand of his bedroom door, the rung of his bedpost, anywhere and everywhere. He loves to wrap them around the base of his cock when you ride him or knot them around your wrists when he ties you to his headboard. But his eyes roll back in his skull when you stuff them in his mouth because he loves how you taste.

Frat!Rafe - Who loves recording the two of you having sex and frequently snaps pictures of you just ‘cause.

Frat!Rafe - Who won't just send you dick pics when you ask, but videos with the sounds on, usually moaning your name until he’s spilling onto his hand, using the pictures or videos the two of you took as porn.

Frat!Rafe - Who had to change his lock screen when you took him home for the holidays because it was a picture of you in his favorite lingerie.

Frat!Rafe - Who has pictures of you everywhere and he doesn't care who sees because don’t you wish you had a girl like mine.

Masterlist

Pictures and texts from Pinterest

Tags: @voyeurmunson @romaescapes @gri959 @redhead1180 @h34rtsformilli @joannamuns9n @waywardsoul113 @marahgubler @akashababy @dckweed @humanvampire13 @drewstarkeyslut @juniebugg @wearemadeofstardust0 @imbabycowboy @rafesgiirl @obxbabies @cutielando @rafedrewandjjs @rafesthroatbaby @999ares9996 @oxpogues4lifexo @dilfswife @Dilfswife @chiaraanatra @ietss @drewswifeeee @theoraekenslover @niyahnotnia

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafecore #rafe cameron x smut #rafe cameron headcanons #frat!rafe smut #frat rafe #frat rafe cameron #rafe cameron hc #rafe headcanons #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe blurb #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron blurb #boyfriend rafe cameron #soft rafe cameron

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venomous-qwille · 5 months

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Introducing Noon, or 'New Moon' from GITM AU. Noon was the last Moon animatronic made by Fazco before it shut down- created for a themepark based on their popular childrens cartoon 'Fazteam Cosmic Rangers'.

#Noon #gitm au #ghost in the machine au #ghost in the machine #qwilledraws #he is the guy ever #saturday morning cartoon villain #i love him #will be a long ass time before he his the fic and that makes me sad #but #he will be worth the wait #also yes this is all based on lore I wrote for astral bodies :)#he is definitely an aerialist/acrobat #dca fandom #fnaf dca #fnaf moon #fnaf daycare attendant

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bubblybloob · 2 days

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I can't help now but imagine that when Cold finally falls prey to the hibernation scheme (as they all will, eventually 👁👁) Hunted will take the opportunity to put him in the washing machine until the mange crust is all gone.

First of all, who’s to say they fall to the hibernation? 👁️👁️

Secondly, NO DON’T WASHING MACHINE MY BOY I’VE BEEN THERE IT IS HELL HE WON’T SURVIVE-

#voice of the cold #asks #Hunted would never leave it up to a machine #he’d want to do it all himself #it also feels more like a small victory to him #if he gets to be the one preening all the guys who do a shit job at taking care of their feathers #i will say I do not plan on Hunted getting his way for the ending #but who knows #maybe I’ll make a separate alternate ending thing where he does #the Hunted nest thing has been a thing for a long ass time he deserves to get his way eventually #I don’t actually remember any other posts about him being a feral little shit before mine #like waaaay back in I think November or December?#I joined the fandom soon after the game released #so I was feeding myself basically cause there was no other content #that’s why this whole fic saga thing came to be #petition for a bunch of fanfics where it’s just Hunted being a creature while all the others are normal #for me *bats eyelashes*#holy fuck I made way too many tags #I got away from myself #screaming into the void now

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screampied · 3 months

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could you please please pleaseeee do a fic where instead of the gojo winning, hes way too needy and the reader wins while fight fucking in missionary like your previous fic….my ego took a hit with that one 🙏🏽

❤︎ ໋𓈒 making gojo eat his words and he becomes a whiney embarrassed mess + first part

warnings. fem! reader, missionary, cowgirl, whiney gojo, overstim, praise, dirty talk, mdni.

“still…won’t shut up, huh. figures,” he grumbles, sliding a hand down your tummy to drag out a whine from you. he was reaching you deep—your legs dangled and jerked from each thrust he’s presenting you. you put a hand in his face as an attempt to shut him up but he grabs it with quick reflexes, chuckling before playful long nibbling on your finger. “don’t try to shut me up. that’s rude.”

you let off a moan, his thickness forever buried into you and it nearly took your breath away. you glare before grumbling a, “you shut up. don’t tell me what to do.”

“i just did,” he whispers, his hips thwack and thwack against you to where your ears ring, lips parting slightly and he leans up close to your ear before slowly sucking on your finger. “i can do this alllll day, princess. you’re just gonna tire yourself o—”

he halts, his breath getting abruptly caught in his throat before you feel gojo twitch, and he lets off a whine before you feel him start to pour a few ropes of cum inside of you. you feel warm, and he completely forgets what he’s about to say.

“you were saying?” you raise your brows, and he’s taken aback once you make your way on top of him, and gojo’s back thrashes against the pillow.

“got some nerve…pinning me down,” he pants, staring at you. you observe his body, droplets of sweat racing down his v-line. gojo’s swollen cock remained deep inside you as you sat upright, playfully creating a few grind movements with your hips. “f-fuck, just ‘cause ‘m sensitive doesn’t mean you won.”

you lean up close to gojo, kissing near the corner of his glossed lips before grinning — slowly and teasingly spreading his arms apart.

he moans from the simplicity of your touch before you whisper, “yes it does. you just don’t wanna admit,” and then you realign yourself, staring down at a panting, out of breath, ruffled hair gojo before simpering. “i know how to make you admit it though.”

“hmpf. how.” he grumbles, contorting his eyebrows before hesitatingly, he brings a hand towards your waist. the smallest pout spreads against his lips before he gawks into your eyes, and oh how flustered he was.

“remember what you told me last time?” you giggle, sneaking a kiss near his chin. “don’t worry about it.”

gojo groans from your soft lips making contact against his skin each time. you drove him crazy, however…

the very moment you started to move your hips against him, riding him he completely loses it. more and more breaths get caught in his throat, and he gives your left hip a tight squeeze and his head throws back. “r-riding me after i cum, fuckin’ brat. you’re so—”

you roll your eyes, leaning in to silence your boyfriend with a kiss. gojo’s muffled moans slither its way into your mouth, and he’s stuck in a ecstasy filled trance the sheer second your pussy grips down against him so firmly.

he was still heavily sensitive, such deep rushes getting to him. you ran your tongue against his in a smooth fashion before you feel gojo whine, sucking against your tongue and he doesn’t even realize it. he trails a hand from your waist to your ass, greeting it with a mean smack to make you moan into his mouth.

still some sorts of brat in him, he found his own eyes starting to roll back into the very depths. he’s chasing his breath as if it was some sort of race, some sort of competition.

he couldn’t get enough of your syrupy sweet taste, gliding his tongue against your upper lip, then your tongue — even the corner of your mouth. whenever gojo was like this, straight after cumming his brains out, by all means was he a messy kisser. momentarily, you pull away and slow your hips down.

“why are you—why are you stopping?” he stammers, and he genuinely sounds needy. no attitude in sight. your cunt was stuffed with a few ropes of his cum, and you felt the mess it created.

his dick twitched inside you from each time you moved against him. “you want me to finish? just admit it, baby.”

“…god, i hate you,” he whines, his bottom lip quavering. the sting, the sugared sting of overstim made him swallow his pride for a brief moment before he huffs out a breath. gojo gives you a glare before lowly sighing. “…finish fucking me.”

“sorry?”

“finish… fucking me.” he mumbles, darting his eyes away.

“can’t understand you when you mumble,” you jokingly tease, bringing a hand down to touch yourself…just a little more teasing. gojo’s eyebrows press in together and seeing him pout out of frustration was the cutest thing. seeing him not get his way.

ironically enough, it’s his turn. after all the teasing he’s put you through.

gojo moans, starting to impatiently bounce his thigh and you intake a sharp breath from feeling him pump his way inside of you just enough for you to feel. “fuck me, f-fuck me. just hurry up. finish riding me,” and then his cerulean blue eyes reach contact towards you — following with a cunning grin. “if you can handle m—”

“you’re such a brat,” you roll your eyes, instantly making him eat his words once you start to roll your hips against him. gojo’s eyes glaze over before he bites his lip to suppress his pathetic whimpers. “but a good boy.”

“……”

he grows dead quiet, soundless before he lets off a moan once you inch closer towards his neck. peppering a soft kiss near the inner part. “can you…can you say that again?”

“say what?” you hum in a soft voice, gingerly wriggling your hips against him, you study his expressions and his jaw tightens. “brat?”

“f-fuck, no, baby the other thing.” he pants, and you giggle — slowing catching on. oh. you always forgot how gojo loved whenever you praised him. it made him feel a feeling he doesn’t even know how to explain.

you softly reply, “good boy. that’s what you wanna hear?”

“y-yeah, yeah,” he swallows, and you continued to grip and clamp down his hefty cock. the weight of his base slams back and forth against you to where he purposely grows silent just to hear the filthy noises your cunt makes. “you—you win, i don’t care anymore jus— keep, keep fucking me, please.”

#★vegasbaby.#gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #female reader #anime smut #gojo x reader smut #gojo x y/n

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flseur · 4 months

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꒰ 𐙚 it's so lonely in my mansion — jjk men ꒱

⟡ synopsis : you've always gotten whatever you've wanted, and it doesn't stop with the men you're interested in.

⟡ content warning : nsfw ( 18+ ), fem!reader, richgirl!reader, pool boy!gojo, private chef!suguru, ceo!nanami, age gap ( reader is in her early 20s, characters are in their mid 20s to early 30s ), fingering, missionary, semi-public sex, cunnilingus, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, doggy

౨ৎ note : first multi-chara fic in a bit ! it's a bit shorter than what i usually write i think bc i needed to do a bio and cogsci lectures right after but please enjoy ! ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹

୨୧ SATORU GOJO

❥₊ ⊹ "o-oh fuck!" you moan out, your little frilly pink bathing suit was thrown somewhere haphazardly and your breasts press against the strong plains of satoru's bare chest.

you were staying at your parent's summer house in the hamptons, it's upkeep being done completely by the hired staff. but one member of them would always catch your attention.

snowy white hair with matching long lashes, bright cerulean eyes, and a body that's hard to take your mind off of.

satoru had recently been hired to take care your olympic-sized pool, and you certainly were not complaining at the free (not really free) show that came with him cleaning it.

every time you knew he was coming over to do some work, you'd be out sunbathing, doing pilates, or "homework" outside. and every time you'd ask him for help with something.

your sweet voice would call him over, pouty lips and big eyes stare up at him and ask him, ever so innocently, "satoruuu... can you help me with this?"

which led to where you were right now. after about 2 weeks of asking him for his help, you finally asked him if he could, "pretty please put sunscreen on my back?"

you were flipped over on your stomach, laying on a lounge chair with your skimpy pink bikini bottoms doing absolutely nothing to cover your ass and you swore you could hear him gulp loudly.

his large hands massaged the lotion into your back, getting lower and lower until he stopped right where the string of your bottoms were.

confused, you whip your head around to see why he stopped before turning back over to face him.

"fuck..." you heard him sigh under his breath before hastily pressing his lips onto yours. "you're such a fucking tease."

satoru wasted no time ripping your swimsuit off, one hand coming up to pinch one of your nipples while the other crept towards your aching heat.

his lithe fingers brush against your folds before his thumb finally presses on your clit, making you gasp into his mouth.

satoru continues his ministrations on your pussy until he feels your hand wrap around his wrist, making him stop his movements. "is something wrong?" he asks, concern laced throughout his voice.

"no..." you mumble. "i just want you to fuck me now."

satoru lolls his head backwards and groans, "fuck, baby... you don't know what you do to me. don't know how long i've wanted to fuck you and this pretty pussy."

"then do it." you chide, getting impatient.

hurriedly, satoru removes his black board shorts, his cock springs free. the tip is flushed pink with precum leaking from it.

satoru's hands grab at the fat of your hips, pulling you down the lounge chair and making your ass flush against his his own hips.

you squirm against him, desperate for friction then whimpering when your clit bumps against the head of his dick.

"patient, princess." a small smirk pulls on his pink lips as he watches you pout up at him.

"put it in already." you groan, getting more and more impatient.

and though satoru does like how horny you are for him, he's almost sure that he's more turned on then you are. he swears he's never been this hard before.

he leans down, his arms caging you in as his cock sinks into you. "stop squeezing me... can hardly move." he moans.

"c-can't," you gasp, feeling him stretch your pussy. "you're s'big..."

your ears were ringing and stars blurred your vision, the way he was splitting you open was deliciously sinful.

satoru lets out a low moan before pulling out almost completely, only leaving the tip in before thrusting his full length in.

"oh my god!" you cry out, your manicured fingers wrap around his torso and dig into his pale skin.

his pace was relentless, the feeling of his thick cock dragging inside your walls and his tip continously pressing that gooey spot in you was overwhelming paired with his balls slapping against your ass.

you were on the brink of your orgasm, feeling the build-up in your tummy. "g'nna cum—" your sobs turn into near screams as you feel one of satoru's hands creep down and rub your puffy clit.

"cum for me. cum on my cock, god, baby please cum. c-can feel you squeezing me, oh fuck." he babbles, not entirely sure of what he was saying but he knew one thing, and it was that he was going to make sure he got to fuck you every chance he got before you left for school again.

୨୧ SUGURU GETO

❥₊ ⊹ though you have all the money you need to buy new purses, clothes, and sports cars, money simply could not buy you cooking skills. after countless of cooking classes for beginners (and dozens of burnt meals), your parents decided to hire a private chef for you. and that chef was suguru.

he was there to make whatever you wished for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, which you appreciated but ever since he's come into your mansion, you've found yourself craving something... different.

and suguru could tell. each time you first came downstairs in the morning you were always in some silky pyjama set. dainty lace straps of the top would always be falling off of your shoulders where he'd see no bra strap causing his eyes to fall down to your breasts and he would see your pert nipples peeking through.

but this time, you had come downstairs in a tiny little pyjama dress that did not cover your ass at all. suguru had asked you what you wanted for breakfast and you mumbled "pancakes" quietly, still trying to wake up.

you brushed past him to open a top cupboard, standing on the tips of your toes to reach a cup, your dress moving upwards and showcasing your -- oh my god you weren't wearing any panties.

suguru held back a groan at the sight of your bare pussy before muttering a quiet "fuck it" and you felt his large hands grip your hips, flipping you around to face him before he urgently pressed his lips into yours.

soon enough, he has you bare with your ass sitting on the cold marble countertops. black tufts of hair tickle your inner thighs while your mind is overwhelmed with pleasure.

suguru licks a strip up your pussy, from your hole to your clit. then one of his hands creeps closer to your heat and a thick finger plunges into you causing you to moan out.

your hands grab at his hair, pulling at the roots and he moans against you. his fingers work wonders in you, each thrust calculated and precise. every press from the digits would hit that sweet spot that made your ears ring.

his mouth was the opposite of his fingers, wrapped around your clit slurping loudly and messily. his moans made you press his face deeper into your cunt, basically riding his face.

"cum on my face, pretty girl..." he looks up at you, alluring eyes looking at your own. "know you've been wanting to, i'll let you, baby.”

you let out a strangled cry and grind quicker against his face, clit bumping against his nose. your cries get higher in pitch until finally the dam breaks and you orgasm all over suguru's face yet he never once stops his ministrations. his mouth continues to work your clit and his fingers are still fucking into you.

you were about to be thrown into another mind-numbing orgasm, tears lining your eyes and you sobbed out in overstimulation until the high was ripped away from you.

"w-what?" you looked up at suguru, confused.

"this time, you're gonna cum on my cock instead," he says before you hear the buckle of his belt hit the floor.

୨୧ KENTO NANAMI

❥₊ ⊹ he knew he had an important meeting. knew it was with your father, but here nanami is, balls deep in his competitors daughter, whispering about how much he loves you.

you were bent over his large desk, your head facing the floor-to-ceiling windows. cute little tweed skirt pushed above your hips and your gucci monogrammed fishnet tights had a hole ripped out from the crotch.

when kento had ripped the hole, you gasped, ready to give him an earful of how hard it was for you to get those but you were quickly cut off by feeling his thick cock split you open accompanied by his strained voice saying, "i'll just get you another pair... another dozen if i get to do this to you..."

his hands were grabbing at your ass, while his eyes watched it recoil with each thrust of his hips. your pussy was dragging him in deeper, squeezing him impossibly tighter, it took everything in kento to not cum early, he needed to make sure you came at least twice before he does.

the sinful noise of skin against skin, accompanied by hushed moans permeated the office. each thrust of his cock was deep and impactful, but the pace was still quick. as much as he would love to take his time with you, he can't today.

"love you, baby," he moans. "love you so much, g'nna marry you one day, i swear..." kento rolls his hips, the head of his length pressing that gooey spot in you.

you let out a mewl, freshly manicured nails gripping the mahogany wood of the desk. you fuck your hips back onto him, relishing in the sheer amount of pleasure your boyfriend was providing you.

wanting to see your face, nanami's strong arms reach around your torso and pulls you upward, your back arching. he has one strong hand against your jaw, making your head face him while his other hand slithers down to your sopping pussy.

"k-kiss me..." you struggle between moans. "please kiss me."

and kento obliges. he presses his lips to yours as his hand begins to rub hurried circles to your puffy clit, making you moan into his mouth.

the drag of his thick cock paired with the stimulation of your clit was addicting, you pull apart from the kiss and your eyes roll to the back of your head. kento was overwhelming your senses, he was everywhere you needed him and everywhere you wanted him.

as your impending orgasm catches up to you, your hand grips the wrist of the hand playing with your pussy, the blunt of your nails dig into the skin.

"i-i'm cumming!" you sob, cunt sucking his cock in deeper and coating it as well as his wrist in your arousal. "love you s'much kento!" words slurring, still riding out your orgasm.

"one more time, princess... need you to cum one more time." he groans in your ear, moving downwards to press open-mouth kisses to your neck. his cock still bullying your insides while his lithe fingers rub your little clit relentlessly.

"y-yes!" you gasp, chest heaving.

"that's it... cum for me..." he coos.

as you come down from your second high, your ears ring but as soon as you come to, you realize the ringing wasn't from them. but instead it was from your phone.

[ (1) MISSED CALL FROM : DAD ]

dad: Y/N.

dad: Where the hell are you?!

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darkromanceenthusiast · 6 months

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Okay so I was gonna ask about a MM fic but I saw you do werewolves….

Maybe a witch is doing a ritual under the full moon in the forest? Maybe it feels so good that the werewolf just needs to keep fucking you…

I’m an extremely shy person and have no idea on how to request but I just have a BIG thing for werewolves so pretty please

Absolutely!

M!werewolf x human!witch!reader

Warnings: Smut, dirty talk, reader is AFAB, Cunnilingus, degradation and praise, breeding kink, reader is very okay with it, but still dub/non-con, cursing, kidnapping, not proof read

This was not, how you were expecting this night to go, face down ass up in the dirt as the panting werewolf man above you tried his best to move your restrictive clothing, one large hairy paw-hand keeping you still. The full moon was high above you and you could see your crystals and herbs for your ritual spilled before you.

“You’re practically begging for it, you know? Pretty little thing like you coming into the woods as if you’re not going to get fucked.” The werewolf says, your attention snapping back to him, he must have had enough of the struggle game because he finally ripped everything from the waist down off, you feel a rush of cold air and shiver, feeling your nipples harden a bit as your blood rushes through your veins in a perverse mix of fear and arousal, the smell making him groan as he nudges his face forward, taking a deep whiff of your cunt and letting out a growl that went straight to your core. You’re not…. Into this… are you? No absolutely not! You’re just frustrated… it’s just been a while since-

A gasp is pulled from your lips as you feel his warm, rough tongue lap at your folds, you can feel the small puffs of hot air coming from his nose as he laps at you, a few whines escaping him.

“You just keep getting wetter and wetter, do you like this, having your gorgeous pussy eaten by me?” He asked tauntingly, he knew you wouldn’t answer but he didn’t care, you didn’t know it yet but you would he his mate, his pretty little witch. He gives another long lap before finally plunging his tongue in your hole, swirling around and making you moan softly, embarrassment flooding you, his tongue was bigger and thicker than any human man’s tongue after a while he pulls back from your cunt with a squelch and gives a deep chuckle as he grabs your hips tighter and forces you on your back so you’re looking up at him, he smiles down at you, sharp canines glistening in his half wolf-half man form.

“Fuckin hell, princess, I can’t wait to give you my knot… I bet you’ll take it so well, huh?” He growls and you nod slowly, he raises an eyebrow before he leans down, licking your neck softly as he inhaled your scent before finally ripping your top off, he wastes no time running his tongue all over your nipples, letting out soft pants and whines as he did, it wasn’t long until you felt his cock poking at your entrance before he ran it through your folds a few times, growling as he did,

“Fuck I’m not even inside ya yet and you feel amazing.” He huffs out, your face flooding red as he spits on his cock and pushes the tip to your entrance, you can feel his large, hairy paw like hands pressing right above your womb as he enters you, the sensation of being filled and the pressure causing your breath to hitch a bit, he moved his thumb down and made lazy circles on your clit, mumbling curses and praise under his breath. You could feel his dick twitching and throbbing inside you, begging for some friction. You gave your hips a small roll and he snapped, growling as his hand flew to your throat, pining you as his other hand lifted your hips and began to pound you.

“I was gonna be gentle… but if you want to act like a whore I’ll fuck you like one.” He says but you don’t entirely hear him you’re too focused on the feelings. Him filling you, cock pressing against your cervix with every thrust, his thumb tracing your clit, and his hand wrapped firmly around your throat making everything feel more intense. Finally he pulls his hand off your throat, air flooding your lungs as you cough and sputter a bit making him laugh, you feel a dizzy rush and stare at the spinning wolf man above you, feeling a familiar tug building in your stomach. You’re so close already, he’s filling you in ways you didn’t think could happen.

“God fucking damnit,” he says as his claws dig into your hips a bit, “You feel so good… look at you taking me so well.” He says, gripping the back of your thighs and pushing them back, giving you the perfect view of his cock stretching you out, you can already see it beginning to swell at the base and you bite your lip, he rubs your clit a bit faster and the tension finally snaps, your orgasm running through your body as he continued to pound you, you hear him growl as you tighten around him, after a few seconds you feel his knot pressing against you.

“C’mon… take my knot, little witch, take my pups.” He growls into your ear, still pounding your sensitive and overworked cunt, you felt your eyes roll back as his knot popped in, stretching you impossibly full before he finally gave one last thrust, filling you with his first load of the night.

“Fuck, fuck yes, little mate… you did so good… such a good girl.” He says, his tongue lapping at your back as he wraps his arms around you.

“We’ll be stuck with you on my cock for a bit, pretty girl.” He says, standing up as he used his hands under your ass to keep you balanced and close to him, now that he quite literally had you trapped on his cock you couldn’t run as he took you to a small cabin, you doubt you’d be let to leave anytime soon though.

#terato #exophelia #werewolf #werewolf x reader #werewolf x human #werewolf boyfriend #monster boyfriend #monster x human #monster x reader #teratophillia #m0nst3r #m0nster fugger #monster fucker #monster smut #werewolf smut

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ellemj · 3 months

Text

Flustered: Part 1

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Two-Part Fic: SMUT

Request by @aryarcharon: enemies to lovers, fuckboy!Bucky, praise kink.

Summary: Bucky seems to thoroughly appreciate all women...except for you. When he finds out one of your weaknesses, he can't help but use it against you, which only makes you hate him more.

Warnings: profanity, masturbation, fuckboy!Bucky, size kink, praise kink, teasing, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Word Count: 6.1k

A/N: I've had major writers block + lack of motivation lately. I started this WEEKS ago and didn't have a single good idea for it again until today, so here you all go. I meant for it to be a one-shot but it sort of turned into a two-part fic on its own. Special thanks to @aryarcharon for this wonderful combination request from the smut menu!

It’s not very easy to get under your skin. You’re so level-headed and even-tempered, capable of dealing with the most heinous criminals and lowlifes without ever breaking a sweat. However, there is one person who not only knows how to get under your skin, but takes pride in doing exactly that. That one person is none other than Bucky Barnes.

As a heavy rain pours down, soaking your clothes and sending a chill throughout your body, you stand with your arms crossed over your chest and a simmering rage bubbling up in the pit of your stomach. It’s his fault you’re stuck out here like this, freezing your ass off and probably nearing hypothermia as you wait for an extraction team. The mission went fine. You got the intel you needed, you got in and out without a hitch, and you even made it all the way back to the getaway car. The getaway car that Bucky left idling for too long, which drained the battery and now leaves the two of you standing in the rain.

Your eyes flit over to your left, where Bucky’s carefully analyzing the machinery beneath the hood of the car, like he’s going to be able to magically fix a drained battery. Just the sight of him feeds the fire of anger within you.

“Give it up, we don’t have any way to jump it off.” You grumble, running your hands through your wet hair. Bucky lifts his gaze to glare at you. His eyes briefly travel down to your wet clothes, but he focuses back on the machinery within a second. It was already cold out before it started raining, why the hell would you have dressed in such a thin shirt? And then to only pull on an equally thin jacket over the top of it, Bucky’s decided that you’re not the brightest.

“If you had listened to me and gone in when security was in the back half of the building instead of waiting until shift change, we wouldn’t have had to leave the car idling for that long.” Bucky points out, letting the hood down and closing it with a metallic thud.

“If you had turned the ignition off, time wouldn’t have been a factor.” You retort. You know there isn’t any use in arguing, it’s not going to change your current shitty situation. However, you never seem to be able to stop yourself when it comes to Bucky.

“I was trying to keep the car warm so you wouldn’t be freezing your ass off on the drive back to the compound.” Bucky huffs, moving around the side of the car to join you in standing on the passenger side. The laugh that leaves your lips is genuine, and if you weren’t laughing at Bucky’s words, it might’ve been infectious enough to make him laugh right along with you.

“Don’t lie and pretend like you were keeping it warm for me, you were doing that for yourself. You’re never that nice to me.” It’s true, he’s never that nice to you. Any other woman? Sure, he’s a gentleman to anyone else. But to you, he’s an ass, constantly. It’s part of his fuckboy charm. He puts on the perfect show for women he wants to sleep with, and then gets them into bed and never calls them again, forever seemingly afraid of commitment. It’s how you figured out that you’re the one girl he’s never thought about sleeping with. He’s never been nice to you.

Before Bucky has a chance to continue your pointless argument, his phone rings in the pocket of his leather jacket. He’s quick to pull it out, note that it’s Torres calling, and then press the device up to his ear as he narrows his eyes at you. You roll your eyes the moment you make eye contact with him.

“I’ve got a car coming your way, ETA is about two minutes. But, it looks like the people you stole the info from may have caught on to the ruse, so you need to move.” Torres informs him quickly. He can hear him tapping away on a keyboard as he speaks.

“Which direction is the car coming from?” Bucky asks, already scanning the street for signs of danger.

“Head north of where you are right now, when you get to the construction site at the end of the road, take a left and find a place to tuck in until the car gets there.”

It’s less than a minute later that you and Bucky are jogging through the rain in silence. You follow a couple of steps behind him, routinely glancing over your shoulder to check for the people that are supposedly on your tail. Though you haven’t seen or heard anyone yet, it doesn’t mean you aren’t being watched. After a short twenty seconds of you jogging behind Bucky, his protective nature gets the best of him and he slows down, switching places with you. He’s not letting you hang around the back and be the first one to get shot at when those guys catch up.

“I can take care of myself, you know.” You mumble as Bucky lets you take the lead.

“You have to, since you sure as hell don’t like to let anyone else do it.” He spits back lowly. For someone who can’t stand being around you, he sure knows a good bit about you.

---

Bucky stands in the shower, running his hands through his hair as he lets the hot water trickle over the curves of his muscles. He let you get under his skin today. He let you distract him from the mission at hand and he forgot to turn off the damn ignition, which resulted in the two of you getting stranded in the rain. Truthfully, you barely even did anything. It was the same shit that always distracts him when he’s in the field with you. The way you can be so serious and focused on your task, yet still throw casual insults and banter with him on the side. The way you’ve never acted like you were scared of him or like you even care who he once was. The way you roll your eyes. Every time he sees you roll your eyes at him, which is often, he can’t help but think about making you roll them for a very different reason. God, if he could just get you out of his life, he’d be fine. He’d be more the fine, honestly. He’d be fucking great.

But, you’re a part of his life whether he likes it or not. You both live in the tower, you get sent on the same missions more often than not, and you’re as close with Sam as he is. So, over the last couple of months, Bucky came up with one foolproof way of gaining a little control back in this situation. He goes out of his way to make you want to insult him, to make you want to give him shit, so he can convince himself that you’d never give him a chance. Of course, it helps that he’s a bit of a modern-day fuckboy and you can’t stand that. Your take on his sex life is a bit off, but he doesn’t care to correct you on it, hoping it’ll make you hate him even more. You think that he sleeps around and because you think he fears commitment, you assume he leads women on and gets them into bed with the promise of something more. He does sleep around, but with no promise of commitment or anything resembling that. He lets women know up front that he isn’t looking for anything, that he’s happy to have one fun night and give them pleasure beyond belief, but that it’ll never go anywhere after that. Besides, who would pass up the chance to sleep with a super soldier? He’s practically fulfilling women’s fantasies left and right. He’s doing his civic duty by sleeping around. Isn’t he?

Bucky had been planning to grab something out of the fridge for dinner after his shower, and then lock himself in his room for the rest of the night. Until he stepped out of his room, freshly showered, and the heavenly smell of whatever you chose to cook for everyone that night graced his senses. He couldn’t help himself from venturing in not only to see what you were making, but also to try to get under your skin as much as you got under his earlier today.

“Don’t tell me you’re cooking pasta again.” Bucky’s voice rings out just as you’re leaving your sauce to simmer and thicken up on the stovetop. Your back is to him, but you know he’s approaching the kitchen with a sure plan to piss you off. As you wash a wooden spoon in the sink, your entire body tenses up when you feel him behind you.

“You know I like to be alone in here when I’m cooking.” You remind him coldly, shutting off the water and drying the spoon on a hand towel. Bucky chuckles lowly before backing away from you and moving over to the stovetop, glancing down at the pasta sauce that you’ve spent the last fifteen minutes whipping up.

“And you know that’s why I’m in here.” Bucky points out. God, he’s infuriating. He’s made it his main purpose in life to piss you off, you’re sure of it. When you finally turn to face him, you catch him eyeing the sauce with piqued interest.

“Get away from the stove.” You say boldly, pointing your wooden spoon at him like it’s a weapon. Bucky’s eyes dart over to you with mild amusement as he assesses the situation. You need to turn the burner off, but Bucky’s seen you cook this exact recipe enough times to know that, so instead of moving like you told him to, he reaches over and turns the burner off for you. It’s his next move that really pisses you off. A smug smile tugs on the corners of his lips as his hand ghosts over the stovetop to the edge of the saucepan, and then glides across the rim of it, gathering a small sample of sauce. “Don’t you dare.” You threaten him. “It was your fault that I ended up soaked on that mission today, you’re not eating anything I’m cooking tonight.”

“Soaked, hmm?” Bucky repeats the word, giving it a much filthier connotation as he raises a brow at you. You shake your head, stepping forward as he lifts his hand closer to his mouth, his gaze focused on the sauce on the tip of his flesh index finger.

“You know what I mean.” You huff, reaching for Bucky’s arm to stop his movement.

“It was my fault that you ended up soaked.” Bucky says the sentence slowly as he thinks about you being soaked in an entirely different context. You poke his chest with your wooden spoon before grabbing his flesh wrist and pulling his hand toward you, effectively stopping him from tasting the sauce.

“Why do you have to make everything sound so filthy?” You question, looking around for your hand towel so you can wipe the sauce off of his finger. It’s too far for you to reach without dropping his hand, and you’re sure as hell not letting him go now.

“I like seeing you flustered like this.” He teases. Secretly, he’s enthralled that you’re touching him right now, that you’re standing so fucking close to him. He came in here hoping to piss you off just enough to make you yell at him, to make you chase him out of the kitchen, to remind him that you don’t give a shit about him so he could go to bed tonight without thinking about you. Yet, here he is, enjoying every second in your presence.

Flustered. It only takes two seconds for you to decide that you’ve had enough of being flustered at Bucky’s words and actions. You’re always the one that’s flustered and he’s always the one that’s smug and cocky over getting a rise out of you. The action your body chooses to carry out doesn’t seem to go through the proper channels in your brain first, so you carry it out without pausing long enough to realize that it would be a mistake.

You pull Bucky’s hand closer to your face, look up into his eyes, and wrap your lips around his finger, sucking the sauce off as your tongue glides against his skin.

Fuck. You don’t hear the very audible sound of Bucky swallowing. You don’t hear the way every single thought jumbles up into a ball of incoherent words in his mind before disappearing altogether. You most definitely don’t notice the way his cock is quickly hardening, even though he’s wearing gray sweats and his growing bulge is somewhat obvious.

You did it, Bucky’s flustered. You’ve never actually seen him like this, with blush-tinged cheeks, blown pupils, and narrowed eyes. He’s looking down at you like he wants to rip his hand away from you and storm off, but he isn��t moving a muscle. Satisfied with your victory, you drop his hand and use the spoon to tap on his chest.

“I like seeing you flustered like this, James.”

---

With a hand wrapped around his cock and your name threatening to crawl past his lips, Bucky chases his release less than an hour after his interaction with you in the kitchen. The image of you sucking on his finger while you looked up at him through your lashes ruined him. It fucking ruined him. Bucky works his cock with no intention of prolonging his pleasure, he wants it over with. He wants to knock out this one, shameful orgasm and then figure out a way to get you back for doing this to him, for making him want you this damn bad. He wants to have you on your knees, swallowing his thick cock with tears on your face and lust in your eyes. He wants to have you naked in his bedsheets, crying out for mercy as he fucks you so thoroughly that you can’t tell where his body ends and yours begins. He wants to have you so hooked on his cock that even a day without it leaves you restless and on edge. He wants to hear you fucking beg for him.

Only a moment later, Bucky is cumming all over his lower stomach and abs, grunting as quietly as he possibly can as he imagines his entire load filling you. More than anything, Bucky hates that he doesn’t actually hate you.

---

It’s been two days since Bucky started avoiding you, two days since you sucked his finger into your mouth and gave him something to fantasize about. For the first time since that moment in the kitchen, you’ve found yourself in the same space as Bucky.

As Bucky finishes up his workout with various pieces of gym equipment, you’re in the sparring ring with your latest trainer. You go through trainers about as fast as Bucky goes through women. Bucky’s sure this new trainer won’t last through the week. He watches as the guy pulls his punches, leaving you with only the lightest of swings to dodge and block. He’s going too easy on you, playing it safe so he won’t hurt you, because he doesn’t think you can handle yourself if he comes at you full strength. Bucky saw the same thing last week when the guy was here for the first time. Honestly, he expected you to request a new trainer after that first session, but for some reason, here the guy is again, treating you like a little princess in the ring.

You’re light on your feet as you duck beneath another one of your trainer’s wide swings and then rise back up, landing a gentle punch of your own to his gut and sending him stumbling one step back. He’s quick to hold his hands up in defeat, shaking his head at your perseverance. You’ve been going at it for over an hour now, and although you’ve both been going easy on each other, it’s still cardio.

“I’m calling it for today. I’ll be back again on Monday and you can rough me up then.” The tall, broad-shouldered man promises with a smile. You let out a deep breath and nod your head as you start to unwrap the protective fabric from around your knuckles. Taking a few steps over to the far side of the ring, you steal a sideways glance at Bucky, who’s completely engaged in his own workout with a weight set.

“Rough you up? I don’t think we’ve gotten anywhere close to rough.” You joke, though it’s true. The man has been treating you like it’s your first week sparring, like you’re something to be handled with care and caution. You drop the sweaty fabric strips onto the mats before tugging your hair out of its ponytail and lowering yourself to sit on your knees on the mats.

“If you wanted it rough, you could’ve just said so.” Your new trainer is bold. Though he fights you like you’ll shatter with his first real punch, he takes risks with his flirting. That’s the only reason you haven’t requested a new trainer yet.

“Good to know.” You say coyly, looking up at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes and an innocent smile playing on your lips.

It was that innocent smile paired with the way you looked up that simultaneously twisted Bucky’s stomach into an aching knot, yet still managed to send all of the blood in his body straight to his cock. If it was him that you’d been looking up at, his stomach would’ve been fine. But no, you were looking at your fucking trainer, the man who clearly thinks you’re fragile and incapable of making it through a real sparring match. After a few more words are exchanged between the two of you, the guy leaves the gym, promising he’ll see you again after the weekend, unless you call for him sooner. Bucky briefly imagines himself hurling one of the heavy weights across the room to knock the guy out of the door a little faster, but that would cause more trouble than it’s worth.

He was going to ignore you. Honestly, he was. He wasn’t going to let himself interact with you, for his own sanity. But his deeper desires are repeating like a mantra in the back of his mind. He wants to hear you fucking beg for him. He has to have that satisfaction. He’s thought about it enough over the last two days that he’s imagined it to the point of committing the fantasy to memory. He has to have it.

“I was wondering why you haven’t put in a request for a new trainer yet, since that one seems to think you’re too weak for a real sparring match. I get it now though.” Bucky says lowly, setting his weights down and lifting the hem of his t-shirt, using it to wipe sweat off of his brow. You narrow your eyes at him as you remain seated on your knees, stretching your arms up above your head. You know him well enough to know that he’s not done talking. “You want to sleep with him.”

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” You laugh. You reach for your water bottle that sits a few inches closer to the corner of the ring, grabbing it and pulling it to your chest.

“Good to know.” Bucky repeats your words. He has a habit of remembering exactly what you’ve said and using it against you in various ways. It’s one of the things you hate most about him.

“What does it matter if I do want to sleep with him? You sleep with any girl that comes within ten feet of you, you can’t really judge me, can you?” You retort. Bucky watches with an amused smile on his face as you set your water bottle back down and grasp the hem of your own shirt. He thinks you’re going to lift it just as he lifted his own earlier, to wipe sweat off of your brow. In retrospect, he should’ve left the gym when you lifted your shirt over your head, removing it and dropping it on the mats beside you.

“You think he’d be good in bed? He won’t even throw a real punch at you in the ring. He’d probably fuck you so softly you wouldn’t even feel it.” Bucky scoffs, letting his eyes roam down your body as you’re taking another sip of water. You sit there in black leggings and a matching black sports bra, on your knees, making him question every decision he’s ever made with your appearance alone.

“Maybe he thinks throwing real punches at a girl would dampen the mood.” You lie. You know Bucky’s right. The guy would be a bore in bed, but you can keep up the façade for a bit since it seems to bother Bucky so much.

“Because he doesn’t know you very well.”

“And you think you do?”

“I think I know more about you than he does.” Bucky slowly approaches the sparring ring, keeping his eyes trained on yours the whole time. You don’t move from your spot on the mats.

“List one thing.” You dare him.

“A real sparring match with a man would do the opposite of dampening your mood.” Bucky pulls himself up on the side of the ring, sliding through the ropes with ease and coming to stand a foot in front of you. He studies the way you look on your knees in front of him. He memorizes it.

“You think sparring would be like foreplay for me?” You ask, already knowing that that’s exactly what he’s insinuating. You don’t know why you let him talk to you like this, why you let him cross every single professional boundary again and again. But here you are, on your knees in front of him as he stares down at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Do you want to prove me wrong?” Bucky holds his hand out to you, awaiting your decision.

Your back slams against the mats for the third time, knocking the wind out of your lungs and leaving you gasping for air. It takes you a few seconds to catch your breath before you bend your knees and run your hands over your face. When you move your hands, you see Bucky standing above you and a little to your right, looking as smug as ever. He’s practically getting off on throwing you around like this, or at least that’s what you think he’s getting off on. He’s really getting off on hearing all of the heavy breaths, gasps, and soft whimpers that have been leaving your lips over the course of the last fifteen minutes.

“Maybe I should’ve given you a safe word.” Bucky taunts, holding out a hand to help you up. You swat it away and take a deep breath before moving into a sitting position and then rising to your feet. You’re quick to assume a defensive position once again, though you’re learning that being on defense against Bucky is the wrong move.

“I don’t think this is intense enough to require a safe word, unless you think you’ll need one.” You huff. The two of you begin moving in a slow circle around the ring, sizing each other up once again.

“You sure about that? How much more can you take?” Bucky challenges you. You exhale slowly as you fight to calm your racing heart and come up with a plan of attack.

“I can take whatever you have to give me.” You must’ve spent too much time around Bucky lately, because the innuendo that just left your lips is on par with the kinds of things he normally says. He falters at the implication of your words, letting his hands fall away from his defensive position for just a moment. You take your shot, rushing forward and shoving his chest with both hands as you lock your ankle around the back of one of his knees and knock him off balance. He goes tumbling backward, but before you can break away from him to maintain your own balance, he grabs your wrists and takes you down with him. You land on top of him on the mats with a soft thud. You begin scrambling to take control of the situation, attempting to free your wrists from his hold to pin his arms down on the mats. A low laugh erupts from Bucky’s chest as he witnesses your struggle. He actually finds it adorable that you think you have even the slightest chance at pinning down his vibranium arm. He lets you try for a moment, watching as you expend a little more of your energy, before he takes charge. Bucky easily breaks your grasp on his forearms and then grabs your right hand, tugging you down to his chest. He rolls you both over in one swift move, coming to rest half of his bodyweight on top of you.

“Do you say shit like that to your trainer? Or just me?” He has to ask. You see the tiniest semblance of jealously peeking through his question and it brings a smug smile to your lips instead of his, for once.

“Do you need me to tell you that you’re special?” You tease, trying to free your arms from where he has them pinned down on either side of your head. He watches with poorly veiled amusement as you struggle beneath him. In an effort to gather more strength, you pull your knees up and place your feet flat on the floor, which lets Bucky’s lower body slide between your legs. Your sudden move catches him off guard and he just barely pulls his hips back before his erection has the chance to brush against the crotch of your leggings. You let out a soft sigh as you try once more to break out of his grasp and Bucky can feel his cock growing impossibly harder at your sensual sound. The next sentence that leaves his mouth is one that could take things in one of two very different directions.

“You look so fucking pretty when you’re struggling for me.” He says lowly. You freeze in an instant. When you meet his gaze, focusing in on his blue eyes, warmth suddenly begins to flood your body. You feel your breath hitch in your throat and a sheen of sweat form across your chest. Bucky notices every little physiological reaction he gets out of you. You liked what he said. You fucking liked it. A new boldness comes over him and he licks his bottom lip before biting into it and letting his eyes trail down to your chest. His gaze doesn’t linger there, but you can see the briefest appreciation in it as you lay there and let him look you over. Bucky wants to have you just like this, in his bed. But, if he can only have you like this on the gym mats, he isn’t going to waste the moment. Leaning down until his nose is almost brushing against yours, Bucky still keeps the majority of his weight off of you. He tilts his head to the side and lets his nose graze the shell of your ear. When you feel his lips against your earlobe, your eyes flutter shut and your breath hitches in your throat once again. “So. Fucking. Pretty.” Bucky repeats in a hushed whisper, emphasizing each word. You’re fighting to keep your legs in the exact position they’re in, they’re beginning to shake as you strain to keep them firm. Every single muscle fiber you have wants to take part in spreading your legs. Bucky can feel it. He can feel how badly you want to spread your legs for him, he can fucking feel it. He thinks he might want it even more than you do.

“What was the safe word?” You ask in a breathless whisper. You can feel the movement of Bucky’s lips curling into a devilish smile against the shell of your ear.

“I thought you said you could take whatever I have to give you.” He tsks. His warm breath fanning against your cheek is driving you absolutely insane, and it’s adding to all of the other sensations that are sending your body into overdrive. “You can take it, can’t you?” You’re trembling beneath him and he fucking loves it. You barely even think about his question before you find yourself nodding your head. In the back of your mind, you’re hating the way your body is fully complying with him, but for some reason it feels so good to do exactly what he wants.

“I can take it.” You whisper softly. Bucky pulls back to look into your eyes as his teeth press into his bottom lip.

“Good girl.” You reaction is instant and visceral. A whimper falls from your lips and your eyes close tightly as your legs spread all on their own, giving Bucky the freedom to press his clothed cock against you if he so wishes. But, he doesn’t. He’s completely mesmerized, entranced by your positive response to praise.

That was the moment Bucky realized that you have a praise kink. When you finally gathered yourself and opened your eyes to look up at him, the way he stared back down at you like he wanted to ravage you right there on the mats of the sparring ring sent a jolt of electricity through you. Yeah, you wanted him to do every filthy thing that was running through his mind in that moment. But it was Bucky Barnes. Bucky Barnes, the man who sleeps with anyone and everyone, the man who is never nice to you. You couldn’t let him have what he wanted, so you came to your senses and finished the fight. You shoved him off of you when he least expected it, sending him to land flat on his back beside you, and then you scrambled to your feet, quick to put a bit of distance between the two of you.

“Had enough already?” Bucky asked in a condescending tone, as he bent his knees and ran his fingers through his slightly damp hair, not making any moves to get off of the mats.

“I said I could take it, I didn’t say I would. Find someone else to fuck around with.” You spit the words back at him with sheer malice.

The following week was torture. Bucky, being the little shit that he is, decided to use your praise kink against you. Knowing your secret made getting under your skin that much easier for him. It started out small, with whispered praises in passing. He was leaving the gym one day when you were halfway through a heavy core workout, and as he passed by you, he couldn’t help himself.

“Look at you, sweating and panting but still looking so fucking pretty.” He said lowly as he passed you, shooting you a smirk as the words left his lips. It set a fire deep in your stomach, which you swore was due to rage, but really, it wasn’t. The heat from that fire went straight to your cunt. You finished your workout in record time before hurrying upstairs to your room and telling yourself how much you hate him while you gave yourself the pleasure you so desperately needed.

As Bucky teased you more and more, he began to become familiar with even the most subtle ways that your body would react to him. When he said just the right things, he could see your breath hitch in your throat, your posture straighten in the slightest, and your pupils dilate as you glared at him. Your eyes showed nothing but hatred but your body sang a different tune entirely, and he was feeding off of it.

It’s now a few days later, and Bucky has grown even more confident in reading your body language. You’re in the kitchen late at night, washing a mug you used earlier in the evening. As you stand at the sink with your back to the rest of the living space and hallway to the bedrooms, Bucky slips out of his room quietly. Honestly, he didn’t know you’d still be up and out of your own room. He was planning to grab a cold bottle of water from the fridge and get back to his sleepless night, but there you are, in those little pajama shorts and an oversized t-shirt that almost makes the shorts pointless. When he joins you in the kitchen, you’re instantly aware of the heightened tension in the air around you both. You watch out of the corner of your eye as Bucky pulls the fridge open and retrieves a cold bottle of water. You listen as he unscrews the lid and takes a long sip, before screwing the lid back on and leaning against the island behind you. You continue washing the mug, spending way too much time rinsing the soapy bubbles off of the ceramic dish.

“You’re not going to look at me?” Bucky asks. His voice is tense, filled with anticipation. You refuse to turn around an face him. You finish rinsing the mug and shut the faucet off, shaking the mug over the sink to get off the excess water. As you reach to your left for the hand towel that sits on the countertop, Bucky suddenly rushes forward, reaching his arms around either side of you and letting his hands rest on the countertop. You try to act unbothered as you dry the mug and keep your breathing as even as possible. He isn’t even touching you. His chest is only an inch or two away from your back but the proximity makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. “Come on, look at me.” Bucky coos. He leans down and lets his nose brush against your ear so lightly that it tickles and you pull your head to the side, away from him. As your heart rate increases and the warmth between your legs begins to grow, you start to think. He has the advantage. He’s had the advantage for a week now and you’re sick of it. You want an advantage of your own. As Bucky waits for a response from you, your mind races back to the night you sucked on his finger in this very kitchen. You got to him that night and he stayed away from you for days after that. You want that advantage over him again, you need it. So, you let that need guide your actions. As you inhale a deep breath, you turn your head and let your cheek brush against Bucky’s, catching him by surprise. He pulls away an inch and turns to look into your eyes. His surprise quickly fades into a look of pride as he sees you doing exactly what he wanted, looking right at him. “Good girl.”

“Bucky…” You feign a whimper, setting the mug and towel down on the countertop before mirroring his position. You place each of your hands right beside his on the edge of the countertop and lightly press your ass back against him. You’re not even a little bit shocked when his erection makes contact with your ass, you knew he’d been getting his own twisted enjoyment out of this little game. As you grind gently against him, he draws in a sharp breath and you face forward once again, glancing down at your hands on the countertop. “Look at how much bigger your hands are.” You say incredulously, noting the size difference as he peers over your shoulder. “I’m so glad we never tried to fuck, I don’t think I would’ve been able to take you.” You whisper.

Bucky stiffens behind you and you’re sure that you actually feel his cock throb against your ass before he pulls his hips away. In a flash, his hands are gone from the countertop and he’s retreating, leaving you by the kitchen sink.

That was the moment you realized Bucky has a size kink, the moment you leveled the playing field.

TAG LIST:

@sunnyhummingbee @gyokujyn @jenniferpendragon @siciliano13 @ordelixx @crist1216 @twlkdead @claireelizabeth85 @charmedbysarge @blackhawkfanatic @kentokaze @nyashonality @h2oaffirmations @lulawantmula @i-l-y-3000

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #mcu #marvel #the winter soldier #winter soldier

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subbmissivesuccubus · 7 months

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Bully- Part 1

Summary: Your bully's, Gojo and Geto, find out an embarrassing secret of yours and will never let you live it down. But maybe, you don't want them to.

Disclaimer: 18+ fic. Gojo X Fem reader X Geto. Humiliation kink. Free use kink. Gojo and Geto being mean. Bully Geto and Gojo. Dub-con warning. It is subtly implied that reader wants and enjoys what's happening to her, but the boys don't care to ask for consent.

a/n: Sorry it took so long wah but here's part one to the series. I plan to write many more cause damn it is so fun haha. I promise, the next part will have all the gratuitous smut and ruthless fucking this premise deserves. Consider this an appetizer <3

Taglist: @bisexuawolfsalt @candycandy00 @nekonanamii @sirimiripetrichor @collectionofdolls @dreamsxmerci

You sighed as you walked towards your classroom, dragging your feet, knowing full well what was waiting for you. It was the end of the day and it was your turn to clean up the classroom and just your luck- you were paired up with the two people you couldn't stand.

Gojo and Geto. The two 'strongest' sorcerers of your school. Their reputation preceded them. One of them was the prodigal son of a famous family with a deadly technique while the other had an incredibly useful and powerful skill as well. Everyone disliked them to some extent, but nobody could deny that the Jujutsu world would be worse without them.

Which is why it always confused you as to why these two powerful men seemed to love bullying you.

They were never malicious but damn if they weren't annoying. They loved to tease and prank you, joking about how weak you were and how you couldn't do anything by yourself. Forget the fact that you were actually quite strong and capable- but compared to them- everyone was weak.

But they seemed to enjoy bullying you especially even if there were classmates who were of lower grade than you. Stealing your drink right before you were going to take it from the vending machine, taking unflattering pictures of you and distributing it, embarrassing you in front of strangers by treating you like a dumb baby in front of them, making loud sex noises if you were on the phone with someone, tossing away your books and stealing your money-

Gojo spanking your ass casually a few times, Geto licking off some chocolate that was smeared next to your lips like it was a normal thing to do and even that one time when they cornered you in the hallway and convinced you to let them grope your boobs:

"If you let us squeeze your tits, we'll leave you alone for a week~" Gojo had said, wangling his fingers comically as they both stared at your chest like perverts. The offer was too good to give up which led to them squeezing your clothed tits for ten second each before they left, laughing at how easy it was to use you. And of course, they continued to bother you anyway.

You could have made a complaint to the higher ups about their behavior, something your friends have told you to do but you refused. You didn't want to be the wuss who was running to the elders over something so childish when everyone has an important job to do. Dealing with some bullying was easy compared to fighting to the death with some curses.

Besides, if you reported on them...

You steeled yourself before opening to the door to the classroom, met with the sight you expected: Gojo and Geto, lounging around, not doing any work as they waited for you to do it for them because, in their words: 'the weaklings need to put in more effort'.

But what you were not expecting to see was your phone in Gojo's hand using earplugs that he had connected to the device. You knew you left your phone in the locker assigned to you in the hallways which meant these two managed to pick the lock and take it. But the anger over that was dwarfed by your sudden realization:

The way they were looking at you as you closed the door, giving you a shocked look but you could tell there was an underlying hint of pure glee.

Uh oh.

"Give me back my-"

You yelped as Geto suddenly grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards him, barely giving you a second to collect yourself before he wrapped his arms around your neck, catching you in a choke-hold. Before you could even react, he pulled your back against him and manhandled you as he sat on a classroom bench and forced you to sit between his legs, wrapping said legs around you. You were completely caught, your nails doing nothing even as you dug it into his arms.

"Holy fuck!" Gojo explained, eyes wide and a huge grin on his face as he continued to listen to the audio on your phone, looking over at you and Geto opposite of the table he was sitting on, "You're a perverted freak, aren't you?"

"Give it back!" you snapped, grunting in annoyance as you tried to break out of Geto's hold but the man simply laughed as he held you tighter, his legs not budging.

"This is some nasty stuff!" Gojo continued, "Who knew a weakling like you would be such a masochistic slut~" he removed the earbuds from the socket and increased the volume as he confirmed what you had feared:

"Yeah? you like that don't you? Little slut~" a man's voice echoed throughout the room from your phone speakers, "Everybody looking at you as I fuck this sloppy little pussy~ Oh this cunt is dripping for me- did you like being spanked in front of them so much?"

It was an erotic audio you had saved on your phone, one of many that you enjoyed in private. You had even saved it under non-suspicious names which meant that the boys were digging through your files to find something- and they did.

"This isn't even the only one we heard, you know." Gojo explained as he dangled the phone in front of you mockingly, "What was it again? A girl getting humiliated by her teacher in front of her classmates-"

"A girl getting groped by her boyfriend on a crowded train." Geto recollected, his lips so close to your ear you could feel his hot breath dance against your skin.

"Being used as a free-use toy by a group of guys~" Gojo said, a giant shit eating grin on his face, "Seems like this one has a humiliation kink~"

"I'm not surprised." Geto said, leaning into your ear and blowing into it, making you gasp and jump, "No wonder she never reported us to the principle for all the times we preyed on her. She was probably enjoying it."

"Oh!" Gojo said like he just realized it, "Was that why? Was your pussy growing wet every time we bullied you, little slut?"

"Fuck you." you spat out, both of the men laughing in response.

"Yeah, I bet you wanted us to fuck you." Geto growled into your ear, your shiver not going unnoticed by him, "You're fucking loving this~"

"Why don't we check?" Gojo suggested, cutting off anything you might have said, his hands inching towards your belt, a dangerous gleam in his eyes, "Let's see for ourselves if we made your pussy wet~"

"Gojo-"

"That's a great plan!" Geto interrupted, laughing as he tightened his hold your your neck, making you gasp, "Take those pants off. So baggy and loose- what a waste of a nice ass."

"I agree." Gojo said, finger now running over the metal of your belt, "it hides so much. With what I felt everytime I've spanked you- your pants do you no favors."

"Don't you- fucking dare!" You choked out, face turning slightly red from the lack of air and from Gojo slowly starting to fiddle with your belt.

"Oh, what are you gonna do about it, little slut?" Gojo teased, licking his lips as his long, lithe fingers started to tug at the leather of your belt, "Look at your fucking face- that look in your eyes? You're loving this."

"No- I'm not- fuck-" you sputtered out, failing to convey your frustrations. You couldn't stand these two assholes. Constantly picking on you and thinking they were so high and mighty- treating you like a bug on their path. So smug and narcissistic and not caring about anyone but themselves-

But as much as you'd hate to admit it, you couldn't deny that your body was throbbing. Everytime they bullied you, you felt that heat. Your heart-rate quickened and your pussy would grow wet, leaving you a confused mess every-time you got bullied. When it first happened, you didn't understand what was happening. Through some internet searching, you found those audios and realized you weren't the only one out there.

A masochist with a humiliation kink.

And without them knowing, the two guys you hate were fulfilling those fantasies for you.

Well now, they were more than aware.

"Come on, little bitch~" Geto cooed into your ear, his silky voice making you shudder, "Why settle with these audios when you can experience the real thing?"

"I...I..." you panted, heat rushing to your face and your heart pounding in your chest. You could feel your pussy dampen and had no doubt that if Gojo actually took your pants off, they'd see you be wet and needy.

"Too slow~" Gojo suddenly said, unbuckling your belt in a matter of seconds before ripping it off of you just as fast, throwing it aside. You yelped as you instinctively struggled, Geto laughing behind you as he tightened his hold on you even more, rendering you helpless. Gojo laughed as well, his bright blue eyes peeking from behind his glasses as you could see the gleam of excitement in them.

"You excited, little bitch?" Gojo cooed, licking his lips as his hands started trailing up your leg, running over the fabric of your pants as he inched up higher and higher. Everywhere he touched felt like it was on fire, a rush of heat coursing through you.

"He asked you a question." Geto said, clicking his tongue as you refused to say anything, "Weren't you taught any manners?"

"Fucking- i'll kill you-" you gasped out, face growing redder as you heard Geto's growl of annoyance, feeling the vibration of his chest against your back. "Don't worry about it, Suguru." Gojo said, smirking as he started undoing the buttons of your pants, "We can punish her later for her disrespect. For now, I just want to get at this pussy~"

With a big grin, Gojo ripped your pants off of you in one fell swoop, making you squeal as he tossed it away. You shivered as your bare legs were exposed to the evening air as well as their lecherous stares. You could see Gojo's eyes trail up your legs before zoning in on your clothed pussy, the man letting out a snort as he took in your panties.

"Pink with a bow on? Really?" he joked, "how plain and not sexy."

"I think they're cute." Geto chimed in, also shamelessly staring down at your clothed cunt, "But it doesn't matter. It's not going to be on her for long, anyway."

"True." Gojo said with a nod as he hooked his finger into the waistband of your panties and pulled it out before letting go, allowing the elastic to slap back against you, "but next time, wear something sexier."

"I hate you- so much!" you snarled, face bright red, biting your lower lip as the white haired man looped his fingers back into the waistband of your panties, this time, very obviously wanting to get it off of you. You gasped, unable to stop your shivers as Gojo leaned forward and placed a kiss on your tummy, his tongue peeking out to lick at your skin as he slowly starting pulling your panties down. He laughed as you tried to squiggle out but your movements only made the slide of your panties all the more easier for him.

"Look at that~" Gojo gasped as your cunt got exposed, practically drooling as he stared like a pervert, a twinkle behind his blue eyes, "You might be a weakling but atleast you have a pretty pussy."

"Atleast she's good for something~" Geto teased, shuffling behind you and in that moment, you felt it. Something long, hard and thick pressed up against your back and it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what that was. You gulped as you felt the imprint of Geto's cock against you, unable to help yourself as your eyes darted towards the front of Gojo's pants and sure enough: His erection was straining against it.

They were too focused on your cunt to notice where you were looking and you were too focused on their dicks to notice that your panties were now completely off and that Gojo had tossed the fabric aside. Geto immediately hooked his legs over your own before forcefully spreading them apart, leaving you wide and exposed to their perverted gazes. Gojo let out a whistle as he dragged a chair over before sitting on it, his face now right across your bare cunt.

"Fuck- fuck you- fuck you!" you gasped out and cursed, feeling lightheaded from the situation. "How does she look?" Geto asked, both of them ignoring you and you could hear the hunger in his voice and the sensation of his cock twitching against you. "Oh, she's perfect~" Gojo responded and you knew they were referring to your pussy as its own person- somehow giving it more praise and respect than they've ever given you, "And oh so wet~"

"I want to see." Geto demanded, not having the same view as Gojo, "Can't let you have all the fun."

"Sure thing, pal." Gojo said, not taking his eyes off of your pussy as he continued to stare, hand reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. "Gojo- don't you dare-" You barked out, understanding what he was going to do- but what you hoped sounded aggressive came out soft and subservient. The man simply snorted in response, ignoring your pleas as he opened up his phone camera and started taking pictures of your pussy. You shut your eyes and squealed everytime you heard the shutter of the camera, trembling body still held tightly in Geto's arms.

"Her hole clenches every-time I take a picture~" Gojo cooed, bringing a hand up to thumb at your pussy lips before spreading them apart even more, making your back arch against Geto, "And look at this little clit! So fucking cute!"

"Just show it to me already!" Geto snarled, impatient. "Alright, alright." Gojo responded with a roll of his eyes, standing up before turning the phone towards the two of you, a shot of your spread pussy on screen. You turned your head away and closed your eyes, ears ringing at how humiliated you felt-

and pussy dripping at how good it was.

"Oh, she does look delicious!" Geto praised, gripping your chin as he forced you to turn your head back towards the phone, making you look at the picture, "You have such a pretty cunt and you hid it from us for so long?"

You whined cutely as you looked at the picture- a closeup shot of your spread cunt with a clear view of your clit and hole, your cunt glistening with slick.

"Seriously!" Gojo barked as he started swiping, showing off the various photos of your pussy that were now in his possession, "If we knew all you wanted was some fucking, we'd have pounded this pussy ages ago! I've always wanted a sex toy."

"Don't you have like a dozen already?"

"Yeah, but I'm sure this bitch's cunt will feel way better than some silicone~"

"I hate you-" you gasped out, any and all fight leaving your bones (not that there was much to begin with) as you leaned your head against Geto's shoulder, "I hate you both- so much-"

"Yeah?" Geto asked, the tone in his voice clearly indicating that he wasn't taking you seriously, "Well, this pussy says otherwise."

He let go of your chin and snaked his hand down quickly to cup your pussy, making you yelp. You didn't know if what you felt was shame or relief that there was finally a hand on your cunt- finally some friction against your dripping womanhood. You tossed your head back, eyebrows furrowed and lip trapped under your teeth as Geto's long fingers started gliding through your pussy lips. The slick sound of him rubbing circles over your hole and collecting your wetness echoed through the room, the sound making your ears burn and your chest feel like it was on fire.

This is was so...so...

so fucking fun...

"She's loving this~" Gojo predicted accurately, eyes darting between your blissful expression and Geto's fingers toying with your body, "Fucking whore- slutty bitch- oh, we are going to have fun with you~"

"Her pussy is growing wetter by the second." Geto noted, cock fully erect and throbbing against you, his other arm slowly letting go of the hold around your neck, confident that you were going to stay right there like a good little girl. You gasped as the head spinning pressure was finally off of you, taking in a few deep breaths but choking on it just as quickly as the man started using his slick covered fingers to run circles over your clit.

"You're dripping all over the table, little bitch~" Gojo teased, taking a couple more pictures before pocketing it, "Fuck- let me feel too- or- actually-"

He sat back on the chair, pulling it closer before gripping your thighs, an eager grin on his face:

"I'm gonna eat~"

"Get used to this, little bitch." Geto growled into your ear, pulling his hand away from your cunt and snickering at your whine of disappointment, "You're our toy now and we are going to do whatever we want to you, understand?"

His hands came upto your chest, lithe fingers starting to undo the buttons of your shirt one by one, revealing a patch of skin before the peeks of your bra. Gojo licked his lips and moved forward, his hot breath fanning against your slick cunt.

"Whatever. We. Want."

#subby writes #jujutsu geto smut #jujutsu gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu geto #jujustsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader x geto #gojo x you #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo x reader #geto suguru smut #geto x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk smut

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keeksandgigz · 3 months

Text

somewhere we can be alone

stage manager!eddie munson x theatre kid!fem!reader

a collab with @reidsbtch- mariah is literally the best person to collab with, it's like our brains were making out the whole time we were writing this. thank u for letting me collab with you to write this absolutely not self indulgent, way too long fic together <3

summary: Now on the tail end of graduating, Eddie Munson is required to take part in an extracurricular activity. He's assigned as stage manager for the school's production of Romeo and Juliet. You, the star of the show, aren't too happy to have your senior performance sabotaged by one long- haired metalhead.

word count: 7.7k words

warnings: no y/n, no physical description of reader, swearing, oral (m & f receiving), enemies to fuck buddies to lovers, mentions of queer!reader, it's actually just fucking smut, fingering, unprotected piv (wrap it up), cream pie, use of nicknames (baby, sweets, sweetheart etc), eddie being a stupid lovable idiot

This and all of mine and mariah's works are 18+ minors do NOT interact

He’s been slumped in the guidance counselor’s office for thirty minutes, the wooden chair digging into his bones, growing uncomfortable as he listens to her, hardly believing he’s so close to leaving this fucking school himself.

“You’re keeping up your grades and maintaining regular attendance, Eddie. You’re just missing one last thing to be able to graduate.”

He rubs his face, maybe from the lack of sleep, or the restlessness of finally being able to leave the office he spent way too much time in during the past six years, as long as he keeps showing up to school for the next two months. He groans regardless.

“What would this ‘last thing’ be? Am I gonna be sent on a quest to slay a fucking dragon? Is that what’s gonna take me to graduate?” He snaps, the lack of sleep has finally gotten to him– school doesn’t really appeal to his late bird nature.

The counselor gasps at the crudeness of the profanity “Language!” She exclaims, like he’s never heard that before, daring to swear in front of students, staff and faculty alike, but the blonde lady with the ridiculously coiffed and teased and sprayed hair composes herself again, jutting a look down to his student folder again.

He imagines it to be full of red pen marks, every single one of those a proof of his own failure. He’ll steal it the day he graduates– and set it on fire. Hell, he’ll even roast marshmallows on it.

“Anyways,” she explains in a way that really shows the massive stick up her ass that makes her think Eddie should just stop bothering with school altogether. “You have to partake in an extracurricular activity.”

And he chortles. He was thinking something dreadful like picking trash up at the park or feeding and bathing the old people at the retirement home.

“Something funny, Mr. Munson?” Her nostrils are flared, she can’t wait ‘til he leaves her office.

“So like- like drama club and shit?” His tone is incredulous, he can deal with a couple lines to memorize. He’s had to do way worse for his Dungeon Master role, and even then, Miss George likes him– she’s let him and the club play DnD in her room for the past two years. Should be easy.

The counselor takes her glasses off her pointy nose, letting them hang with a tacky pink, flowery chain around her neck. “Well, yes– that’s one of the options. Unfortunately, your GPA is not high enough for you to partake in the school play, per se, so I can only place you in the backstage crew– building sets and moving things around. We’ll put that brain of yours to work.” She chuckles as she hands him a slip of paper to give to Miss George.

Eddie picks up his bag, “Real funny, huh.” He shrugs his shoulders and heads to the school auditorium. Last time he was there he’d gotten caught by a custodian while Terry Richardson’s face was stuck in between his legs, trousers pulled down halfway down his thighs as she gave him a toothy blowjob. He got suspended for a week.

He sees Miss George sat in the audience, scribbling notes onto a notepad as you recite the famous balcony monologue from Romeo and Juliet. He knows you, he’s seen you around– you’re by no means in the popular crowd, but you stand out, in the way that your clothes always seem to border the fine line of what's socially acceptable and outrageously eccentric.

Even if you’re not part of the popular crowd, there’s no denying that, like the rest of the school, you avoid him like the plague, cute as he is. You interrupt your monologue as you see him smirk down the central aisle of chairs. Miss George turns around at the sudden interruption. Eddie just hands her the slip.

“Oh my goodness!” she coos, “We have a stage manager.” And he wishes he could have photographed the look on your face. “Stage manager?! Miss George, you can’t be serious!” You exclaim as Eddie takes a seat next to her, kicking his boots up on the back of the chair in front of him.

A smirk ever present on his face as he crosses his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow at you. “He doesn’t have any experience.” You continue, not about to have your senior year performance ruined by Eddie Munson of all people. “Shouldn't be that hard to keep a diva like yourself in line, hmm?”

Eddie answers before Miss George has a chance to, the theater now going quiet except for a few snickers from the tech crew. “Alright, that’s enough from the both of you. Eddie, I’ll have our ASM get you up to speed. Now, please continue with the monologue.” The male only grins wider as you glare back, before looking back down at your script with a sigh.

He ventures backstage– not sure what ASM stands for and maybe too embarrassed to ask as he sees kids dressed in black moving wooden planks onto the stage, carrying cans of paints and brushes.

He taps a kid on his shoulder, arranging a prop table, he looks at Eddie like he’s seen a ghost.

“I was looking for the ASM?” The kid is looking side to side, still wondering why Eddie Munson is talking to him.

“Uhhh, she’s in the booth.” He mutters, before turning around and going back to his props. What the fuck is a booth?

Eddie just plainly decides to look for it himself, since nobody’s any fucking help in this school. He opens door after door- a storage closet, a closet just for wood, a bathroom. Arrived at the last door, he isn’t exactly sure he’s ever going to find this stupid ASM- and he still doesn’t know what that stands for.

The noise of a door opening startles you, as you try to put on your dress as quickly as you can to avoid flashing someone. It’s only when you see who it is that you start screaming, and with you, Eddie just pops a hand in front of his eyes, screaming a string of sorries, and that he hasn’t seen anything.

“I was just looking for the booth! Stop screaming!” he screeches, worried he’s gonna get himself in trouble with Miss George if she hears you screaming like you’re getting skinned alive. Thankfully, you stop, as Eddie looks away, aware of your exposed back peeking through the zipper. You clutch the fabric against you, struggling to zip up the back of your dress one-handed.

Eddie makes a whistling sound, distracting himself from the way you seem to be teetering between asking for his help and telling him to fuck off.

“The door to the booth is in the audience, by the way. Off to the side, there’s some stairs.” You huff, slightly getting your zipper up. He goes to turn around, but you stop him. He cocks an eyebrow.

You roll your eyes, lips in a thin line as you keep the door open with one hand.

“Can you make yourself useful and help me with my zipper?”

With an annoyed huff he steps fully into the dressing room, shutting the door behind him as you turn your back towards him once more. Carefully clutching the dress, your eyes meeting his in the long row of vanity mirrors in front of you. You can feel his warm breath on your neck as he steps closer, carefully lifting your hair over your shoulder.

Eddie’s fingers follow the seam of the unzipped garment, barely tracing the bare skin of your back. You try to hold off the shiver from passing through you as he slowly begins zipping it up. A hint of a smirk on his mouth as he notices the goosebumps breaking out across your skin. “Anything else princess? Or am I free to go?”

His fingers now fall away from you, clearing your throat as you try to shake off the arousal that was now coursing through your veins. You wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction of knowing how frazzled he had just made you.

Instead of answering, you just groan, eyes lifted up, going past him and clocking him in the shoulder as you headed back on stage. God you were fucking insufferable.

Eddie finds out that ASM means Assistant Stage Manager and that said ASM was none other than Max Mayfield, roped into doing theatre tech for extra credit. And that the booth was where they tampered with the lights and shit. All he had to do as Stage Manager for that rehearsal was oversee the light cues, which proved to be a little more complicated than he initially expected.

He messes up most of the cues in the first act before he finally seems to have gotten a grasp of it. All the while you’re tossing glares his way, using the light cues as an excuse for the harsh looks. But really it’s due to your annoyance at how the mere brush of his fingertips left you wanting more. Wanting more of him, despite your better judgment– you were not about to have him ruin your senior show.

And in spite of that, you closely follow Eddie’s actions. In a lull between scenes he stands up, you follow him with your eyes as he enters back into the auditorium, beelining backstage.

Eddie’s not totally sure what shit designer built the theatre, because he might as well have pissed himself on the way between the booth and the only bathroom in the auditorium. Not only that, but he kept missing cue after cue, followed by the dirtiest looks known to man, straight into his eyes. After the encounter you had in the dressing room– fingers caressing the soft skin of your back, feeling you shiver under his touch, he knew he had some kind of leverage over you.

So when he’s done taking a leak and looks down at the door, he’s sure you’re behind it, slipping a little piece of paper in the crack.

Meet me in the booth after rehearsal. XX

Eddie wouldn’t say he was nervous, his curiosity was piqued more than anything. However, he’s antsy the last half of the show, leg bouncing as he tries to listen and follow Max’s instructions. The girl gives him an annoyed lecture in between cues. But his mind’s a little preoccupied, trying to figure out what exactly you want from him.

So when he re-enters the dark light booth once everyone else has left, he doesn’t expect you to shove him up against the door, locking it with a swift click. His breath hitches in his throat, both in confusion, and at the fact that you’re fumbling with his belt, despite the dirty looks you’ve been giving him the whole afternoon.

“What uh- what are you doing?” His tone is alarmed, stammering as he tries to grab onto the door handle for purchase. You’re too busy getting his jeans down to bother.

“Sucking you off. That okay?” You look at him for a reassurance that comes almost immediately with a violent nod of his head.

He’s confused, but he’s not going to turn you down. After all, he felt the way you tensed under his touch while he was pulling up your zipper, “Shit, fine by me.” He shrugs, acting like he isn’t busting at the seams waiting for you to pull down his pants.

Eddie’s belt makes a clinking sound, along with his wallet chain while you pull his pants down to his thighs. You move his trembling body away from the door, against the table with the light console. His knuckles turn white as he grabs the edges on the table for support.

Gripping the hem of his checkered boxers, freeing his hardened length. Your eyes widening slightly at the sight of it, he’s big— a lot bigger than you expected. Even in the dim lighting he notices your shocked expression.

“Ya gonna just stare at it all night sweetheart?” He asks, a smug smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he looks down at you. You shoot another glare his way, before grasping the base of his cock in your fist, licking a long stripe up the shaft. Feeling satisfied as you hear his shaky intake of breath. Eagerly you take him past your lips, as a low groan leaves his own.

“Shit,” he curses as your warm mouth envelops him fully, ringed fingers knotting themselves in your hair. You open your mouth as wide as you can, taking him deeper. Gagging slightly as he hits the back of your throat, tears brimming in the corner of your eyes as you try to adjust to his size. He’s by far the biggest one you’ve had.

“Talked such a big game with that mouth of yours sweetness, am I too much for you?” Your fingers dig into the skin of his thighs, his cock slipping from your lips as you pull back.

“Do you ever shut the fuck up Munson?” You huff, but before he can reply with another snarky remark your tongue is swirling around the tip of his cock. Silencing him for a moment as you take him back into your mouth.

Another string of curses falls from his lips, as his hips begin thrusting into your mouth with an abandon you haven’t seen before. Your cheeks are hollowed and he can feel himself getting embarrassingly close.

“F-fuck where- where’d you learn all of this?” It comes out in broken pants, and he can feel a smirk forming on your lips as you take him out a second time.

“One thing about theatre people is that we’re all gonna fuck each other. You should see how I eat pussy,” you shrug, putting him back in your mouth, and Eddie swears he’s about to bust in less than a minute.

“I’m gonna- fuck.” But he doesn’t get to finish that sentence, as you take him out of your mouth and stand back up.

Eddie’s bewildered expression is easy to read as he looks at you like you shot his dog. But you get close, dangerously close to his lips, your nose almost bumping his.

“That’s for fucking up my light cue, idiot,” it’s a feeble whisper against his lips before you’re gone into the darkness of the theatre. Too shocked to react, Eddie’s left with his pants pulled down for a good two minutes before registering what happened.

So he’s left blue balled in that stupid light booth, fuming and confused. There was no way in hell he would let you treat him like that and walk away the way you did.

Eddie had been scheming all week between rehearsals, attempting to find a good time to get you alone. He wasn’t about to let you get away with leaving him like that, but you were actively avoiding him.

But an opportunity fell into his lap without any effort on his part, Miss George asking you to stay behind to work on some blocking with her. As the stage manager he was required to stay behind too, his mind already reeling with possibilities.

So when you duck behind the curtain to change out of your costume, Eddie is quick to swoop in. Offering to shut down the lights and lock up, and Miss George is more than willing to let him.

By the time you get back on stage the theater is dark, the ghost light shining brightly center stage. “Eddie? Miss George?” You call out into the darkness, getting complete silence in return.

“Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding.” You groan, clutching the strap of your book bag tightly. Of course he’d leave you in the dark theater to fend for yourself. “Asshole.” You mumble under your breath, reaching your hand out in front of you as you make your way across the dark stage.

You’ve bumped into multiple set pieces at this point, as you attempted to find the stairs leading down to the audience in complete darkness. Your frustration grows with each passing minute, that is until you hear the shuffling of feet.

“Hello?” You call out again, squinting as if it would help you see any better. Fear stirs in your gut as the theater is silent once more, shadows seeming to come to life in the corner of your eyes.

Once you finally reach the edge of the stage, you grip onto the railing tightly as you fumble your way down the stairs. Sighing in relief as you feel the carpet beneath your feet.

You only make it a few steps further before you feel a hand snaking around your waist, pulling you back into a hard chest. The other hand cupping itself over your mouth to muffle the scream that leaves your lips.

“Screaming for me already sweets? Haven’t even touched you yet.” His voice is mocking, his warm breath fanning across your neck as he laughs. You quickly squirm out of his grasp, a flashlight clicking on to illuminate his stupidly gorgeous features.

“You fucking psychopath! What were you thinking?” you shove him on the shoulder, he laughs as he zeroes in the flashlight on you, red in the face and furious.

“Had to get back at you for how much of a little tease you were the other day,” he croons. You purse your lips together, a deep blush spreading across your cheeks as you try to stabilize your still quickly beating heart.

“Whatever. Fuck you, Eddie.” You spit, but he’s quick to grab your arm and push it behind your back, the flashlight hitting the ground and rolling under one of the seats. His chest is pressed against your shoulder blades as you shudder in his arms.

“You’re not getting away so easily, sweetness.” He breathes against your earlobe as you keen into the warmth of his chest, his nose buried in the crook of your neck as his free hand goes to your waist.

“This okay?” he murmurs, and you nod. A sharp nip to your earlobe makes you hiss.

“I can’t fucking see you nod, can I?” You can tell he’s having too much fun torturing you, feeling his hand travel all across your torso and chest.

“N-No,” you whimper.

“Exactly. Try that again,” his hand rests against the waistband of your jeans, awaiting an answer, teasing the skin behind the fabric. The tips of his fingers brush the skin there, making you whimper in response.

“This is okay.” you breathe out, and it’s the only answer he needs to slip his hand past your jeans, unbuttoning the offending material to push his hand further down into your pants.

“That’s a good girl,” he whispers against your ear as his hand cups your clothed core. You waste no time grinding against the heel of his palm, letting small, breathy moans escape you. Afraid to get caught in the dead of night getting touched and fondled by the town pariah.

“You sound so pretty singing for me, don’t you sweets?” he whispers smugly. His hand feels a little too good against you, your hips grinding back and forth following the rhythm he was creating, “Hmm, but I think you can be a little louder.”

You gasp as he slips his hand inside your panties, his calloused fingers encircling your swollen clit. Your head falls back onto his shoulder, your hand gripping onto his thigh. His digits dip lower, teasing your entrance before slipping one inside and curling them up.

You can’t stop the shaky cry from leaving your lips, the sound now filling the auditorium. A smirk tugs at his mouth, using the heel of his palm to press against your clit. “Listen to that… you’ve got such a pretty voice don’t you?”

You dig your nails into the denim covering his thigh, a low groan sounding in his throat. “Wonder what it sounds like when you beg,” he easily adds another finger inside your wet cunt, thrusting them deeper. “N-Never gonna happen Munson.”

Eddie laughs, pulling another moan from you as his other hand drifts up under your shirt to cup your breast. “We’ll see about that.”

His breath is fanning hot and humid against your neck as you reach around to bring his head closer, needing him to be closer.

Nothing he’s saying is registering in your brain, as his fingers pump in and out of you with a torturous pace, feeling his wolfish grin plastered against the skin of your cheek.

He’s watching your every move, your every breath and whimper, biting his lip at the way your eyes roll to the back of your head every time his fingers curl up in a certain manner. You don’t think you have much time left before you release yourself all over his hand, and he knows it.

From the way you keep twitching and tightening around his fingers, he feels you’re getting close, but much like you did that night in the booth, he won’t let you get it that easily.

“Y’close sweets?” he groans, his own hips now grinding against the swell of your ass.

“Uh-huh,” is all you can manage to say, brain scrambled from his words and ministrations.

“You know what you gotta do now, don’t you, pretty?” he bites at the hinge of your jaw, as you cry out, the noise echoing in the empty theatre.

“You gotta beg for it.” And he hears you gasp at that, a dry chuckle leaves his lips. “You didn’t think I was gonna make you cum that easy did you?”

“Mmm- fuck you, Munson.” you struggle against your brain’s desire to one up him and your body’s desire for release.

“C’mon, don’t you want to cum? I bet you’re so pent up from a whole day of staring at me building sets, aren’t you?” and he’s right, your eyes did wander to his arms in his tight fitting t-shirt, with his hair tied up in a low bun as he hammered nails into wooden boards.

His fingers speed up and you can feel it, you’re so, so close.

“Please, let me,” you whine into his arm, biting at the muscle there. You’re getting so loud.

“That’s right, keep begging for me– good girl gettin’ nice and loud for me,” it’s a growl at this point, a string of please please please follow it. Tears pricking at your eyes with how intensely good he’s making you feel.

So close, so close–

He removes his fingers, jerking you out of that hazy state you were previously in. The male now removes himself from you, retrieving the flashlight from under the seat. Your chest is heaving as you turn to face him, anger now coursing through you as he grins devilishly down at you.

“How cute, you thought I was actually gonna let you cum with how you left me the other day?” Eddie’s laughter fills the theater as he steps closer to you. Your bodies almost touching, lifting his fingers that were just inside you up to your lips.

The brunette carefully drummed the digits against your mouth, “Now, be a good girl and clean up the mess you made.” You glare as you let his fingers slip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them in a teasing manner.

You noticed how his breath hitches, his cock straining uncomfortably in his jeans. But there’s no way that you’re helping him out with his little problem now. You playfully bite his fingers that are still in your mouth, as he utters an annoyed ‘ouch’ before taking them back out.

His fingers make their way to your scalp– yanking at the hair, making you hiss. “You think you’re fucking cute? I’ll see you tomorrow after rehearsal,” his tone makes you tremble, as he takes his hand out of your hair and disappears into the darkness of the theatre, leaving you once again in the dark.

You stumble down the side stairs of the stage and get out of the side door, quickly making your way home.

And it becomes a regular thing, you and Eddie blue balling each other to the point of frustration, like it’s a sick and twisted power game you both play. After rehearsal he offers to lock up for Miss George and you wait for him in one of the dressing rooms, or in the dimly lit booth. He’s become irritable, and you have as well.

If you were insufferable before, now you’re downright hateful as you yell at the light crew to stop messing up your spotlight moment, or that your costume felt too constricting or your prop too flimsy.

Everything has you on edge, but you don’t hesitate to meet Eddie every night that week after rehearsal. Maybe he’ll let you cum this time.

You wait for him backstage, sitting on one of the set pieces, a throne. There’s a dim overhead light shining on you. Eddie’s lip is caught between his teeth as he looks at you on his Dungeon Master throne.

“Get up.” he commands. The shirt he’s wearing is tight, it makes his shoulders look more prominent. You squeeze your legs together.

“Why should I? My legs are tired from being on my feet all rehearsal,” you give him a fake pout as he inches towards you.

“Because that’s my Dungeon Master throne,” it sounds funny coming out of his mouth, voice low and gravelly “It’s mine.”

You chuckle a bit at that, how is this man being territorial over a set piece?

“And what if I said no?” a smile trapped in between your teeth, looking up at him through your lashes.

A dry laugh escapes him as he crosses his arms, “You’re so spoiled huh? Think you can always get your way? Last time I checked, this week it’s been the total opposite, hasn’t it?” and he’s not wrong, he’s given you all but what you want.

“This is my theatre, Munson. I believe you’re on my turf.” and he laughs at that, like you’ve said some kind of joke.

“You do theatre, sweetheart, c’mon you can’t be serious.” he kneels in front of you, grabbing your thighs and moving them apart with ease.

“Don’t be a bitch, Munson.” you hiss, as you feel his lips on your exposed thighs, kissing the skin there.

He whistles, low and sardonic. A wicked smile on his lips “That’s rich coming from you, you’ve had that nasty little attitude this whole week.” he continues with his kisses, while his hand ghosts over your inner thigh. Your breath hitches in your throat.

“I wouldn’t have this nasty little attitude as you call it if you would just let me- fuck.” his free hand ghosts over your panties. Your skin is sensitive, your brain is sensitive. Another touch and you might explode.

“Hmmm, what was that?” he bites at the flesh of your thigh, a high pitched whimper falling from your lips “Need me fuck that little attitude out of you sweetheart?”

And you’ve been wound up so tight for the past week that it doesn’t take you long to rid yourself of your panties. He takes advantage of you standing up, plopping down to take his rightful seat on the throne.

That cocky smirk is adorning his features, but you wanted to smack it off. “As cute as you think you look in this seat… it’s always been my throne sweets.”

Before Eddie has time to mutter another snarky remark you’re climbing into his lap, crashing your mouth against his. You’ve learned throughout the past week that it’s really the only way to shut him up.

His ringed fingers dig into the curve of your hips, eagerly grinding yourself against the bulge in his pants. Eddie moans into your mouth, his tongue licking your lower lip. You part your lips, allowing him entry as your tongues fight for dominance.

He tastes like Twizzlers and cigarettes, a combination you shouldn’t find as delicious as you do. But it only seems to make you needier, the denim becoming damp as you continue to grind yourself onto him.

“Look at you making a fucking mess on my jeans,” he mumbles against your mouth, nipping at your lower lip which causes you to whine as he pulls away. His chest rumbles as he chuckles, grabbing your cheeks in his hand— forcing you to look at him.

“But I’d rather you make a mess on my cock sweetheart.” His words have your head reeling, the male now gripping behind your knees and lifting you up. You squeal in surprise, clutching onto his shoulders to steady yourself. “Eddie, put me down.”

He carefully lets you slide down his front until your feet touch the ground, spinning you around before bending you over the armrest of his throne. His hands travel up your bare thighs, taking his time to appreciate your soft skin.

“Are you going to fuck me or not Munson?” You huff, the male now flipping up your skirt and landing a harsh smack on your ass. “So goddamn impatient aren’t you?”

You hear the sound of his belt clinking open, the zipper being tugged down. It makes you clench your thighs together, something Eddie didn’t miss. His fingers dipping between your legs, teasing you further.

“Trained you well didn’t I baby?” You can’t stop your eyes from rolling, despite how your stomach flipped at the word baby.

And you can feel him then, carefully lining himself at your entrance as you try to grind back into him. A firm hand against your hips stops you. “Ready? I’m gonna go slow,” he mutters, and there’s a gentleness in his words, despite his meanness in how he’s handling you.

You hum in approval and brace yourself. There’s a loud groan coming from behind you as he slips inside your warm heat, reveling in how you almost suck him in, a small gasp leaving you from the stretch.

“Big stretch, huh?” he coos in a cocky lilt, and you almost wanna reach around and punch him, but this idiot has your eyes rolling back from the fullness, and he’s not even all the way in yet.

So you nod, followed by a needy little whine that makes him chuckle low in his chest– you need him that much?

He goes deeper, spurred on by your noises, by how much you need him to fill you up. A sardonic smile on his lips as he bottoms out and slams all the way in, causing you to shriek.

Eddie sets a fast pace, not really giving you any time to adjust, but he’s already nudging that spot deep within you, making you see stars.

You hear him groan, “So fuckin’ tight, aren’t you sweets?” and it’s a rhetorical question, because your tongue feels too big for your mouth and there’s nothing coming out of it besides unintelligible whines and moans as you hold on to the armrest across from you.

Your noises only encourage him to go faster, and it’s almost too much the way he’s hitting that sweet spot inside you. You try to distance yourself from him, just enough to catch your breath, but he grabs your shoulders, using them as leverage to ram deeper into you.

He leans over, his clothed chest against your back, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.

“Goin’ somewhere, baby? Thought you could handle me.” He bites at your earlobe, and there’s just so much going on in your brain that you can’t possibly muster any response to whatever he’s telling you.

“Oh I said that, didn’t I? When we first met. I said I could handle a spoiled little diva like you, and look at that,” he laughs, and you’re sure you’re about to combust. Your fingers reach to grip the cushioned seat of the throne, as another wail leaves your lips.

“Singin’ my praises now aren’t you baby?” The wood of his throne digs into your hips and stomach as he pushes you further into it, a feline movement as he drapes himself off and over you, his hands now gripping the armrest opposite of you for purchase.

Your legs begin to give out, as you beg God or whatever entity up there that he won’t give into his sick little game. That he’ll let you cum this time.

“Shit, sweets, you’re gripping me so tight.” he grunts, a boyish grin on his face as small uh uh uhs fill the room.

“Should we let you cum tonight? We can’t have you being a bitch tomorrow, it’s the end of hell week,” he jokes, and it almost feels humiliating, how he can make fun of you like this and you’re just going to keep fucking yourself back onto him.

“God- Fuck- Please!” you beg, with all the strength you can muster, and he can’t help but let a satisfactory grunt leave his lips.

“Look at you begging, don’t even have to ask now, do I?” and you can feel him twitch inside you. He’s also getting close.

“Ready?” he huffs, with the last little bit of stamina he has, and you can’t brace yourself enough for the wave of pleasure that washes over you with the last few snaps of Eddie’s hips as you come undone with a loud cry, echoing through the dark halls of the theatre.

“Fuck, okay, where should I–” he begins, he’s at his wits end.

“In…side,” is all you can say before he stills himself inside of you, letting his release take over him with a loud groan. His warm cum painting your inner walls, leaving you feeling satiated.

Eddie stabilizes his breath, forehead leaning against your shoulders, days on days of pent up frustration hanging like mist in the air. You’re both able to think clearly for the first time in what felt like forever.

“Jesus Christ,” he huffs, lifting himself off of you as he slowly slips his cock out. You can feel his cum beginning to drip down your thighs, your legs wobble as you attempt to stand. Knees buckling as you try and find your discarded panties.

“Whoa there, I got ya,” he wraps his arm around your waist, holding you against his warm chest. It felt good, leaning against him like that. But you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, “I’m fine Eddie.”

You push yourself off only to nearly fall once more, an annoyed grumble leaving his lips, “Are you always so stubborn?” He reaches down for your panties, guiding you to sit on the edge of the throne so he could help pull them up your thighs.

It was an unusually tender action, and not one that you expected from him. “Thought you didn’t want me sitting here?” You tease, his brown eyes glancing up as he’s kneeling before you.

“I’ll let it slide this one time,” he chuckles, the corner of his mouth lifting in a grin. A dimple you had never noticed before indenting his cheek, another feature that now found annoyingly attractive.

You roll your eyes at him and stand up, “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow after rehearsal.” You quip, as you try to wobble off the stage, he runs after you.

“There’s no way in hell I’m letting you walk home like this,” and there’s a tender look in his eyes, something close to genuine concern. “My van is out front, I can drive you.” He points in a general direction behind him, and you want to say no so badly.

But you don’t, and now you find yourself being driven home by Eddie. His dingy van smells like cigarettes and weed and it squeaks every time he goes over a bump. There’s loud music blaring through the stereo speakers and an uncomfortable silence between the two of you.

“So uh, you excited for next week?” Eddie’s the first to break the silence, briefly turning towards you.

“I’m actually kinda nervous,” you admit, sinking into the seat. “It’s a big role, big shoes to fill. I guess I’m just scared I’m not gonna be any good.” You chuckle, almost embarrassed at your admission.

“You? Not good? I’ve seen you, y’know? I’m not just staring at your tits during rehearsal. You’re pretty darn good.” He gives you a half smile at that, pulling up next to your house.

You’re a bit flustered by his compliments, finding yourself not wanting to leave his company just yet.

“Thanks, Eddie. I appreciate it,” you smile at him.

“And hey, if you still feel nervous opening night come find me— I’ll help you,” he winks at you and you can’t help but laugh, as you see him looking at you with a big grin on his face.

You look at him back, and God, maybe it’s the streetlights or the moon, but he’s never been more beautiful. In a leap of courage you lean over the dashboard and peck him on the lips.

As you detach from him and reach for the door handle, he pulls you back in deeper, searing and intense, one of those kisses that have your tummy flipping. Except it’s not in the comfort of the theatre, and without an underlying motive behind it.

Just you and him. In his van.

You let your lips part, give him access to your mouth, but he stops you.

“It’s midnight,” he whispers against your lips. “Dress rehearsal tomorrow, you need to rest.” He smiles as you place another peck on his lips. Pouting as you reach for the door handle. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you until you’re inside, seeing the light of your room turn on.

Once he knows you’re safe, he starts his van back up and pulls away from your house with the cheesiest grin on his face.

Opening night. It’s finally here.

You should feel excited, and yet all you want to do is lock yourself in one of the broom closets and hide. You’ve never felt so nervous before, thinking of all the different outcomes that could occur. What if you forget all your lines? Or you have an embarrassing wardrobe malfunction during a quick change?

Your mind is reeling as you enter the dressing room, the rest of the cast buzzing excitedly around you. You fake a smile and sit at your station, noticing the bouquet of lilies resting on the counter top. You can feel yourself flushing, opening the card that came with it.

Break a leg Juliet xx.

You ask around the rest of the cast but no one knows who left them, and while you hoped they came from a certain metalhead… you couldn’t be so sure. Your little cat and mouse game had suddenly turned into something very real, and part of you was afraid it would be over once the curtains closed.

You get ready for the show in a daze, now staring at yourself in the dressing room mirror as nerves rage through your insides. The rest of the cast had dissipated, leaving you alone with your racing thoughts.

“There’s the leading lady,” Eddie’s voice snaps you out of your haze, meeting his eyes in the mirror’s reflection. He must have noticed the look of panic across your features, as he rushes to your side.

You give him a weak smile in return, letting a heavy exhale escape past your lips.

“So uhhh, did you like the flowers?” He asks, and he can see your eyes light up in the mirror, momentarily forgetting nerves, fear and anxiety.

“So it was you,” he coaxes you to face him, kneeling next to you with a large grin.

“T’was I, fair maiden.” He does a half bow from his kneeling position, making you giggle.

“So you’re in love with me now?” You tease, as Eddie’s hands come to rest on your thighs, spreading them as much as he can in your dress before moving in between them.

“I’m literally going to die from nerves, what if I mess up my lines?” you begin, but Eddie seems to have much different plans.

“There she is….” he murmurs, more to himself.

You feel the heat pool in your middle at his words, squirming a little in your seat. Eddie reaches to cup your chin, tilting it down so you meet his gaze. His brown eyes sparkling with mischief, “You know, my offer still stands Lady Capulet.”

“Here? The doors are literally opening in fifteen minutes, don’t you have stage manager things to take care of?” your tone is alarmed, rather, a mix of alarm and excitement.

“My job as stage manager right now is to make sure Juliet feels comfortable enough to go on stage,” he grins, peppering kisses over your hand and wrist.

“But what if we get caught? Or you make me cum so hard I forget my lines?” The nerves make you ramble, as his chin rests on one of your thighs.

“As good as I am at eating you out sweetheart, I doubt that’ll happen.” He bunches the fabric of your costume up your thighs, beginning to give sweet caresses on the skin of your legs.

You seem unconvinced, still.

“Look, I’ll sweeten the deal. If you get all your lines right, which I don’t doubt you will, I’ll take you out on a date.” His lips are pursed in a coy smile.

Your eyes widen, “Like a date date? You and me?” and your heartbeat picks up.

“Who else, idiot?” Eddie laughs, which makes you smile, “Now,” he begins.

“Do you want me to do something about those jangled nerves of yours?” And you can’t help but bite your lip and nod.

His lips begin trailing up your thighs, a shiver running through you from his tender actions. “But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?” He pauses, shifting closer as he switches sides, now leaving open mouth kisses along your opposite thigh. “It is the East, and Juliet is the sun.”

You feel your breath hitch in your throat as he works his way to your clothed center, his eyes flicking up to look at you. “Arise, fair sun and kill the envious moon… and whatever the fuck else Romeo says.” Eddie chuckles before eagerly pressing his mouth against your clothed pussy, his tongue lapping at the wet spot on the cotton.

A gasp bubbles deep in your throat at the sensation, feeling the bliss of his tongue through the cotton barrier, your body easing up from its nervous state.

He looks up at you, “Good, huh?” He hums through the fabric, and you’re wound up so tight you’re already panting.

He taps the side of your thigh to get you to lift your hips, removing your panties in the process.

A low whistle escapes him as you spread your legs for him again, “Talk about eating in costume, baby, jeez.” He chuckles, and the joke makes you laugh too.

A short lived laugh at that, turning into a breathless gasp when his tongue makes contact as he begins to lap up the length of your pussy.

Your hand immediately goes to tug at his curls, not caring that they’re tied up and out of his face to be able to see the cue sheets. The delicious pull at his scalp makes his eyes roll to the back of his head.

A low moan falls out of your lips, catching yourself, hand flying to your mouth as you hear the rest of the cast clamoring outside.

“Gotta be quiet, Lady Capulet,” he snickers as he goes back to burying his face between your legs. His tongue darting in and out of you as a hand reaches for your mouth, wetting two of his fingers.

You don’t hesitate to open up your mouth for him, a bite at the juncture between your pelvis and your thigh, “Atta girl.” He mumbles against the wet skin, popping his fingers out of your mouth to tease at your entrance.

“That’s it baby, focus on me.” A whine escapes you as you’re now grinding on his tongue, his fingers enter you slowly, head thrown back in pleasure.

“You nervous, baby?” He asks, a cocky smile on his face. His fingers curl upward, your eyes squeeze at the overwhelming sensation.

You shake your head, still sentient. Not too far gone yet.

“You gonna use me to get off, my lady?” His fingers are pumping faster, feeling tears brimming on your waterline, hoping to not spill all over your face, your stage makeup seems to be in precarious conditions.

A familiar warmth, deep in the pool of your tummy, “Don’tstopdon’tstopdon’tstop” You know how much he likes to hear you sing for him. His spare hand grabs onto your thigh, rings biting the soft skin there, feeling yourself teetering on the edge.

“Thaaaat’s it, you’re doing so well,” he whispers. One more pump of his fingers and you cum with a silent cry, biting onto your hand, feeling yourself pulsate around his fingers.

Without much warning he slips them out, sucking on his own fingers, tasting your own delicious essence.

“Places!” You hear Miss George say backstage, as Eddie retrieves your panties for you and slips them up your legs.

Eddie fixes his hair in the mirror, tying them back. He places a kiss on your cheek with a hurried, “Good luck— uh fuck I meant break a leg.” Then he furtively leaves the dressing room.

You feel a blush spreading across your body, finally relaxed and ready to begin the show.

You leave the dressing room, joining the rest of the cast, full of excitement. You know all your love monologues are going to be directed towards a certain metalhead tonight.

The show goes smoothly and you don’t forget a single line, you’re surrounded by family and friends, ready to do it all again the day after.

You go back into the dressing rooms to grab your stuff and change, but a long mop of curly hair occupies your chair.

“Eddie, you can’t be here!” you whisper, as he turns around with the biggest smile plastered on his face.

“Just wanted to tell my girl congratulations in private. You smashed it tonight,” you blush at the nickname.

“Since when am I your girl?” you ask, not letting him see how much it affected you.

“Since you kissed me in my van when I dropped you off, gorgeous.” He flirts, bottom lip trapped in between his teeth.

“So, how about that date?”

thank you for reading! comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

tagging: @thornsnvultures, @xxhellfirebunnyxx, @duuhrayliegh, @ali-r3n, @sunnythevampireslayer, @bimbobaggins69, @jamdoughnutmagician, @eiightysixbaby, @aphrogeneias, @daisy-munson, @gravedigginbbydoll, @s6raphic, @take-everything-you-can, @strangerstilinski

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #stranger things #eddie munson x you #stranger things fanfiction #stage manager!eddie munson x theatre kid!reader #eddie munson fluff

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xiax · 1 year

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#PRAISE !

;feat. gepard, jingyuan, blade, welt, dan heng, + luocha/afab!reader

;cw. praise kink, sexual content, no gendered prns used

a/n. i didn't get the welt fic done but i hope that this will make up for it <3

contents on individual characters parts!

all characters presumed to be 18+. minors do not interact.

cw: pussywhipped!gepard, wet&messy, squirting

! GEPARD — heady, slurred praises babbled out in the heat of pleasure.

The sounds of his cock sliding in and out of your wet little pussy was intoxicating. Every time he sunk balls deep, you would gush messily around his cock. Just the sight of that creamy ring around the base of him had his head spinning, making him feel like he was drunk.

All the exhaustion that he had come in with from a hard few days of work completely evaporated the second he walked through the door and had you pawing eagerly at him. You whimpered and whined so sweetly, telling him all about how you had been wet all day, making a mess in your little panties and that you needed him to finally satiate you.

He knew you had been playing with yourself long before he had come home. Your pretty pussy was so sensitive and messy, swollen and open from your own fingers working you open in hopes of achieving an orgasm even close to the kinds your precious boyfriend could give you.

He was all too eager to pin you down to the bed, a firm hand around your throat to keep you still as he bullied his fat cock into your needy little cunt.

“O-Oh, so perfect…” he mumbles, words slurred. He supports his weight over your body with both hands on either side of your head, trembling fingers digging into the silken sheets. His head head between his shoulders, gaze locked onto the sight of his thick cock filling you up over and over again, “Y-You’re so…so good…fuck…oh my god…you’re perfect, sq-squeeze me like that again. Oh, please! Fuck, it feels so good, you feel so good…”

His mouth runs endlessly, eyes rolling back until only the whites are visible when he feels your cunt seize around him in yet another orgasm that he eagerly fucks out of you. Drool runs down the side of his mouth as he whimpers, hips swinging erratically as you continue to cum and cum around him.

“Th-That’s it…” he babbles, “f-fuck…so good…you’re doing so good. C’mon, gimme another one…please…”

Your voice raises even higher in pitch and you tremble beneath him as works another orgasm out of you with terrifying ease. Every thrust had him bumping against your clit, the sensitive little bud not able to take much more as you messily squirt around him with a sweet cry of his name.

“That’s what you needed, right?” he whimpers, cheeks flushed red as he continues to fuck every little jet of cum you have to squirt out for him, “N-Needed me to make you cum like that? C-Can’t make yourself squirt, can you? Fuh-Fuck, you’re so good for me, oh god!”

It’s all he can do as he finally reaches his own end, filling you up perfectly with the load you earned.

cw: slow n deep :pensive:, dacryphilia, wet&messy, a lil orgasm denial, squirting as a treat

! JINGYUAN— sincere praises through gritted teeth

Sex with Jingyuan was never fast and rough. He took his time. Slow, deep agonizing thrusts that knocked the breath out of your lungs with every downward thrust of his hips. He filled you to the brim and then some. His heavy, aching balls snug against your ass as he had you pinned beneath him with your legs spread nice and wide so he could get as deep as he could. He gripped your body ferociously, blunt nails digging into your thighs where he pinned them down so he could have full access to your needy little cunt.

You were panting, a sheen of sweat coating your body. You were a mess compared to your lover who still looked as put together as he had when he had barreled his way into your home, eager to get his hands on your soft skin. He had already fucked two orgasms out of you while he hadn’t even had one – the stamina of a general was nothing to scoff at.

“Oh, you feel so good, huh?” he pants, his clenched jaw and tense tone the only give away that he was feeling as much pleasure as you were, “I know you do. You’re doin’ so good for me, honey. Taking everything I give. So sweet for me.”

You whine and thrash beneath him as he nudges that tender little spot deep inside you that only he could reach with such mind-numbing accuracy. He was the only one who could have you teetering on the edge of orgasm without touching your clit. It makes you cream around him, a milky little ring around his cock that has the breath stuttering out of his chest.

“Are you gonna come?” He pants, eyes briefly rolling back before he gives you a soft grin, “Go on. Feel good for me. That’s it, sweetheart.”

You dazedly nod your head, reaching forward to cling to him -- needing him to ground you through the almost painful pleasure. You were wound taut, eyes wide and teary as he fucked you.

He knew you were close but made no changes to his pace. Those same, slow, deep thrusts that knocked the air from your lungs and allowed him to graze every nerve ending inside you. He kept you hanging on, each deep swing of his hips burying himself to the hilt in your creamy little cunt. You were making a bigger mess with every passing second.

He chuckles, “If I didn’t know any better, I would think you’ve already cum around my cock. You haven’t, have you? You’d tell me if you came, right?”

Such teasing words had your cheeks burning hot but you whined, “D-Didn’t cum. I-I’m close. Please, Jingyuan, make me cum!”

He chuckles softly, a charming little sound that makes you feel like you have a crush on your own boyfriend, “I’m working on it, sweetheart. All you have to do is let go, c’mon. Don’t you want to be good for me again?”

You sob, still teetering on that edge that you can’t seem to fall over. You find yourself reaching towards your clit, trembling fingers dangerously close to the bud -- all you would need is one little touch and you would cum so hard around him.

But your boyfriend intercepts your hand and shakes his head, fluffy hair jostling around his face as he does.

“None of that, honey. You don’t need that, do you? You can cum just around my cock, you did it before!”

You wail and sink back into the bed, tears overflowing your eyes as your boyfriend basically torments your oversensitive body. But he was right, you could cum like this. You just needed to be a little more patient and he would get you there. He always did.

A few more deep, well-aimed thrusts (a show of mercy on you when he realized just how hard you were trying to cum for him) finally had you gushing. Your pretty little pussy squirting all around him, soaking the general’s chest with your cum like a little badge of honor that only he could wear.

“Good, see? I knew you could do it!” he breathes, adjusting his position so he hovered over your body, pretty hair falling like a veil around the two of you, “Now give me another one.”

cw: mean!blade, secretly soft!blade, a lil hurt/comfort, riding, a lil choking, minor degradation

! BLADE — earned praises that he makes you work for.

You sat on his lap, stuffed nice and full by his fat, heavy cock. His sharp eyes looked up at you, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched you clumsily bounce on his lap. You were dripping down his length, strings of your cum sticking to his skin, making a mess that he had yet to even comment on.

He could tell you were getting tired, a little furrow in your brow as your thighs burned from the work of moving yourself up and down without his help. Without so much as a supportive hand on your waist. He knew he was being a little mean to you today. But how was he supposed to resist when you looked so pitiful and hopeless as the ache in your body began to overtake any pleasure you were able to give yourself.

You were never able to fuck yourself as good as he could, after all.

Just as your pace started to slow, your morale plummeted when all he did was stare blankly at you – as if you weren’t even there. As if he wasn’t even feeling any pleasure from your walls squeezing and drooling around him…

“What’s wrong?” he teases, faux disappointment apparent in his tone, the first thing he’s said since he pulled you into his lap telling you to ride him, “Don’t tell me you’re getting tired already, hm? But you were doing so well.”

Your pace falters immediately and you drop down onto his lap a little too hard, making him bump your cervix. You whine and wince, the deep ache not at all pleasurable.

Blade can’t keep up the cruel façade he’d been tormenting you with in that moment. His hands leave from where they had been laid across the back of the couch and quickly grabs your waist, jerking you up further so he’s not buried as deep in you anymore. You let out a little breath of relief when he’s not pressing painfully against your cervix any longer.

He hums softly, keeping his hands on your waist. His thumbs stroke against your soft skin and he tilts his head to the side as you stare at him with wide, affectionate eyes.

“Look how cute you are...do you like being praised that much?” he asks, smirking when you eagerly nod your head, placing your hands on his shoulders for balance before you begin eagerly fucking yourself on his cock again – with renewed vigor. He lets himself groan at the feeling, head falling back against the couch, “That’s perfect. You’re doing so good now, look at you. Keep going, make us come.”

Your orgasm washes over your suddenly and violently. He almost lets his mask slip at the shock of having you cum so suddenly. He grips your hips and forces you to grind against him through your high, your head falling back as your entire body twitches through the high. You almost lose your balance, teetering backwards on his lap before he cups to back of your head and pulls you to his chest, letting his cock pop free before you settle against him, panting and trembling.

“Did you cum from me praising you?” he asks, raising a brow when you nod your head shyly, “Well...isn’t that just precious?”

He bares his teeth and with a surprising show of strength, he flips you over and pins you by your throat against the cough, eagerly stuffing his cock back into you. You’re so sensitive that having him back inside you suddenly makes your thighs jump, attempting to push him out. But he lays his body flush against yours, chest to chest as he slowly begins to work his hips against yours.

“Be good and cum for me again, yeah?”

You sob and with a few more thrusts and whispered praises, you’re seizing around him again. He glances between the two of you, seeing the sticky, creamy mess you’ve made against him that sticks to him in messy strings.

“You’re so pathetic,” he sneers, “Cumming like that all over me. You’re lucky you’re so fucking cute.”

cw: size kink, reassurance, soft!welt. spit as lube, a lil pain

! WELT — reassuring praises when you struggle to take him

The tears in your eyes made his heart ache – especially because he knew he was the cause of your pain. He was just too big, a little too long to nestle comfortably within you and too wide to avoid that burning, stinging pain that came with being stretched far past your limits.

Your hands shoot out suddenly, pressing against his chest to stop him from moving any closer. He could feel your walls twitching and struggling to open up around him.

“T-Too much!” you whine, voice tight and slurred.

He sighs and pulls back, the feeling of his cock pulling out leaves you winded but you relax against the bed when he sits back on his heels. His hands gently hold you beneath the knees, keeping you spread open for him as he waits for you to catch your breath.

“Would you like to stop for the night?” he asks, no hint of irritation or impatience to be found in his voice.

It wasn’t like this was uncommon. There had been plenty of nights where it had just been too much to take him and you both found other ways to get off. He didn’t mind it, he understood that sometimes it hurt more than it felt good. He was patient and understanding, always making sure to put your comfort before his pleasure.

But you shook your head, a sheen of sweat covering your body, “N-No…want you, Welt. Please, l-let’s try again.”

He sighs softly, pretending like he doesn’t feel his cock throbbing at you whining for him. You didn’t want to go to sleep tonight without that soreness between your thighs. You knew once you got over the pain of being stretched, once you got used to him, it would feel incredible and you would be able to cum around him as much as you needed. That’s what you wanted tonight and you weren’t going to give up like you had the last few nights.

He reached over to the bedside table, and you whined, shaking your head.

“W-We’re out…” you mumble, knowing he was going for the lube the two of you kept stashed away.

Hearing this, he sighed again and sat back, gripping you beneath the knees before tugging you closer. You squeaked when you found your lower half perched up on his thighs, leaving you completely open and exposed to his piercing gaze.

His thumbs spread your folds apart, giving him a perfect view of your drooling little hole and swollen, throbbing clit that he feels he’s neglected for far too long.

He puckers his lips and you almost moan out loud when he spits noisily onto your cunt. He does it twice before gripping his cock, using the head to smear his spit around before he’s carefully pushing in once more.

You whine, grappling onto the sheets as he ever so carefully inches in. He’d already stretched you a bit from his attempt to penetrate you earlier so it wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been.

Still, the burning sting was as present as ever and you couldn’t help but cry out as he reached halfway.

“Sh-Shh…” he breathes, brows furrowed in concentration as he works you wide open, “Y-You’re doing so well. Slowly…” he whispers the last thing, mostly to himself as the pleasure of your warm, wet walls wraps snug around him, “Good job. J-Just a little more…be good for me…”

Despite the way you squirmed and whined, trying to run from the overwhelming sensation of being fucked open, he didn’t stop until he was buried as deep as he could go. If you wanted it so bad, then who was he to deny you?

As he carefully worked you open, he stroked your hard clit with a rough thumb. Your thighs jump at the stimulation and you whine, wide eyes finding his stern gaze.

“W-Welt...” you gasp, biting your lip as you find your orgasm creeping up on you. You knew what was coming -- the tactic he resorted to when he was particularly resolute in getting his cock inside you.

He grunted softly at the call of his name, gaze focusing back on the sight of your greedy cunt swallowing down a cock far too big for you. Your clit was slippery and hard under his touch, painfully neglected in favor of stretching you open with his fingers earlier during foreplay.

He always felt a little bad leaving such a pretty little part of you without attention. Perhaps he should do it more because the way it had you squeezing around him made your walls suck him in much easier.

And as you finally came around him, allowing him to reach the deepest part of you, he watched and felt as your pretty clit twitched under his thumb with every spasm of your walls through your orgasm.

He was truly enamored with you.

cw: shy!dan heng, possessive!dan heng?, love making tbh

! DAN HENG — shy, sweet praises whispered for you and you alone

You were in his room, on the little futon he had set up right there in the archive. What had turned into a sweet little session of spending time together morphed into sharing sweet kisses. Those kisses became more and more heated until you were practically teary eyed and grabbing his wrist to shove his hand into your wet little panties. His fingers eagerly played with you, stroking the firm bud of your clit and working your walls open to prepare you to take him.

You were just so sweet for him, how was he supposed to deny you when you wanted him so earnestly?

His body was draped over yours, your legs wrapped snug around his lithe waist. One hand was laced with yours as he slowly rocked in and out of you. You were so wet, noisy squelching noises accompanying his movements. The sound was so lewd that he felt his cheeks heating up. The thought that he was the reason you were so worked up was enough to make his head swim.

He leaned down, catching your lips in a sweet kiss. You whined into his mouth, wrapping your feet arm around his neck to tangle in his soft, dark hair. He gasped at the taste of you on his tongue when you eagerly licked into his mouth.

“D-Dan Heng…” you whisper, tossing your head back when he touched that sweet little spot within your walls, “Oh please, I-I wanna cum.”

He nods, his cheeks burning hot at the feeling of you clinging so sweetly to him. It brought out a soft, protective side of him when you let your walls down in this most vulnerable of moments with him. Your cute little voice as you begged for him to give you pleasure. He was purely and completely enamored by you.

“Y-You can…” he whispered, wincing when he heard how his own voice wobbled, betraying just how flustered you had him, “W-Whenever you want. However much you need.”

You just whine softly, blunt nails biting into his shoulder blade. He winces at the feeling but doesn’t make any moves to stop you – he would proudly wear any marks you left on him in this moment with pride.

The fact he was here with you, sharing this precious, intimate time together was enough to make his heart race. He was so in love with you. Completely overtaken by everything that was you. He had your face buried in his neck, your fingers laced between his, your arm wrapped around him to keep him as close as possible, and he was buried in your body as deep as he could possibly be.

Everything about this moment was to be cherished and if he could take a mental snapshot of how you looked he would. You were something to be worshipped in his head. The only one to get past his highly built walls. The only one he would ever allow himself to have in this special way.

“N-need you to make me cum!” you whine, thighs twitching around his waist as he slammed into you harder than he intended at those words. He bumped your cervix, making you wince but he carefully kissed your forehead in apology.

He swallowed around the lump in his throat and adjusted his stance on his knees, making sure to grind against you with every deep thrust he delivered, catching that swollen, neglected little clit in a way that had your eyes rolling back and your cunt creaming eagerly.

He loved that the most, seeing the way your body so clearly responded to him. He liked to imagine that you could never make yourself drool and gush the way he could -- though he would never gain the courage to actually ask. For now, he was content with believing that he had the biggest effect on your body; the only one who could have that pretty ring of milky white wrapped around him.

The squelching of your pussy got louder and louder the closer you got, drooling messily around him to let him know just how close you were – as if he couldn’t feel how tightly you clenched and spasmed around him. Little, sticky strings stuck hos his thighs and hips, breaking away every time he pulled back only to reappear when he stuffed himself back inside you.

“G-Good…” he breathes, so quiet you almost didn’t hear it, “You’re doing so good. Go on, let go for me. I-I’m right here. Be good for me, sweetheart.”

You come around him with a loud cry that has him quickly slapping his hand over your mouth so no one would hear. This moment was for the two of you and you alone. He wouldn’t let anyone be a part of it.

cw: mating press, mean!luocha, lots of clit attention smh i am who i am, little one as a pet name, dacryphilia

! LUOCHA — teasing, condescending praises that make your eyes teary and your cheeks hot

“Oh what’s the matter, little one?” he coos, tone dripping with condescension. It makes you want to curl up and hide away. You would if your lover didn’t have you beautifully pinned down with your knees against your chest. His cock was buried as deep, to the base with his balls firmly pressed against your ass.

He wasn’t moving, however. Completely stationary as your pretty pussy sat stretched and stuffed with him.

“You must tell me what you want before I can give it to you,” he says, pretty, blonde locks framing his face perfectly with the light behind him making it look like he had a halo.

He was truly a thing of beauty. Coincidentally, he thought the same as you as you laid beneath him completely naked and vulnerable with an open, drooling little cunt wrapped around him making a mess of everything around it.

“P-Please!” you beg softly, tearily staring up at your lover.

He cocked his head to the side and grinned, a teasing, cruel little smile that sent shivers down your spine.

“Please what?” he asks and you practically sob.

“M-Make me feel good!” you cry in frustration.

He felt so big and hot inside, twitching you filling you so well. But he wasn’t moving. Wasn’t giving you what you needed. Instead, he played dumb and acted like he didn’t know how to make you cum your brains out night after night.

“Oh! Well why didn’t you say so?”

You sigh in relief at his words, thinking he was finally going to properly fuck you. But instead, all you felt was a firm thumb pressing down on your clit. Your legs twitched and your toes curled as he slowly worked the bud under his finger, the hard little bud slippery and so sensitive as he strokes it with practiced precision.

“L-Luocha!” you wail, eyes rolling back in your head.

The feeling of simply being speared open on his fat, heavy cock while he worked your tender little clit to orgasm was mind numbing. Luocha felt dizzy – he could feel your walls flexing and drooling around him as he carefully played with your clit.

“What is it, hm?” he coos, meanly tapping the bud with his thumb to make your body twitch. It was like he was playing with you like you were just a little toy, “Isn’t this what you asked for? For me to make you feel good? And it does feel so good doesn’t it? Go on, tell me.”

Tears drip down the side of your face as you mindlessly nod, wanting so badly to squirm to stir that precious cock inside you just a little but he had you completely pinned at his mercy.

“Feels so good! Oh, it feels good, Luocha! I-I’ll cum! Please make me cum!”

“Ah,” he sighs happily, “That’s my good little darling. You know how to behave so well don’t you? So good for me. Go on, cum for me. Make me proud and I might just make you cum again…all over my cock.”

His words set you off and before you knew it, you were wailing his name and twitching beautifully on the bed as you covered him in sticky cum. His mouth fell open, unable to hold himself back from moaning as he watched you lose yourself so sweetly all from him playing with your pretty little clit.

“Oh, you are such a perfect little thing for me.”

@xiax // do not modify or repost.

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baby-yongbok · 2 months

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Don't Go Insane

Neighbor!Bang Chan x afab!Reader

✧Genre - Smut ✧Warnings: Unprotected piv (Wrap it up ya'll) ✧ Masterlist ✧

A/N: I have never ever written a fic in this format but it was the only was for my brain to process the idea😭This is a product of those fucking SINFUL photos that Chan took for Nylon Japan. I'm sorry if it sucks, I'm trying to get back into writing again so I might suck for a bit, sorry! Hope you enjoy! (not proofread)

You weren't expecting to actually like your new neighbor since your previous one was such a dick but when you meet Chan he's more than kind to you.

He always greets you in the hallway, helping you bring your bags up to your place when you get home from shopping and checks in on you when he hasn't seen you for a couple of days

You find yourself going out around the same time that he would usually get home from his morning workout just so you can talk to him. He's so sweet and charming and hot. Oh so hot.

He brings you food when he's made too much dinner to fit in his fridge which is code for he wanted an excuse to talk to you and gave you 50% of his meal just to see your face.

You invite him in to eat the first time that he brings you food and it quickly turns into spending Sunday nights eating together and laughing at his stories. It's your favorite day of the week now.

You drop by his place to ask if he needs anything from the store every time that you go now. He's memorized the pattern of your knock and jumps to his feet every time he hears it.

You're in line at the store one day when a magazine catches your eye. Is that…Chan!? You grab it, looking through with wide eyes before buying it and nearly forgetting about the rest of your items.

You don't tell him that you saw it. He never said what he did for work and yeah he's hot - Oh so hot - but you never thought that this would be his occupation and you defiantly didn't think that this is how you'd find out.

You flip through the magazine all night. Staring at his beautiful chocolate gaze and his perfectly blushed lips. How is he even real?

You may have also stared at his shirtless pics for an hour too long. No one has to know that though.

He brings over a new recipe that he tried this Sunday. Setting up your usual spot on the living room floor when his eyes land on a familiar photo on your side table. It's him. You bought his magazine? He tries to act normal about it but his red ears and blushed cheeks give him away.

You catch on when he glances at it for a second time and you internally body slam yourself for forgetting to put it away. You both eat quietly, blushing and trying to find the right thing to say next.

“I'm sorry about that.” You speak first and he glances up quickly, straightening himself up with a shy smile. “It's fine, I'm just embarrassed I guess.” He's shy about being hot?? Why does that make him hotter?

“Are you always the shy type?” Your question was genuine but your tone was suggestive, almost teasing. It creates a shift in his demeanor that makes you shiver. “Not always, no.”

You don't know how it happened. It's all a blur. One second he was talking to you, confident and sweet. He was telling you about the shoot for the magazine when he got to the topic of the shirtless photos. The air around you thickened and the words that started it all slid off your tongue.

“You look so good it could drive me insane.” You chuckled but his eyes darkened in response.

“Do you want me to?” His eyes are on yours, his gaze is heavy and intense. “What?” You drop your fork, swallowing hard. “Make you go insane?”

That's how you ended up with his lips on yours. He swallowed each and every strangled moan and replaced it with one of his own. His hands explored your body, fast yet cautious. A gentleman.

He pulls you into his lap, one of his large palms gripping your ass over your leggings and the other cupping your cheek to keep you still for him. He pulls you close, chest to chest. He's been waiting to feel you since the moment he first saw you. He feels like he's dreaming and he prays that he never wakes up.

His breathing picks up when you plant sloppy kisses along his jawline. Mind numbing groans and hisses falling from his lips. “You're gonna make me go insane, fuck.”

His lips feel like heaven against your skin. Soft and all-consuming. He leaves marks along your collar bones, sucking and flicking his tongue over the delicate skin. Your head is spinning as you take him in. This beautiful man that you've been dreaming of for months finally has his hands on you.

You grind against him, his fingers digging into your hips as he presses up into you. The way that he looks up at you with his lip caught between his teeth is intoxicating. “You're so fucking beautiful.” He smiles at your compliment, blinking a blush away and trying to keep his composure. “Took the words right outta my mouth.”

You pull back, sitting on the shaggy rug and frantically undressing. You're desperate, antsy, absolutely insatiable and Chan isn't too far behind but you could never tell by how composed he looks. How does he have that much self control?

He moves to sit on the couch and watches you as you strip. Taking in every beautiful inch of your body while he makes himself comfortable. You look up at him as he sits, man spreading at the edge of your couch and giving you the perfect view of his aching cock straining against his jeans.

Fucking sinful

"Crawl to me, baby. Come here." He beckons you with two fingers that you're dying to be acquainted with. The smile on his face while you follow his order is enough to make you explode already.

He leans forward, cupping your face and kissing you with such soft hunger. So much passion and desire. A promise, like his kiss is asking you to be his. You palm him softly over his jeans earning a soft moan from him. "You want it?” He leans back, resting against the back of your sofa, giving you full access to his zipper and button. “Go ahead, take it, princess."

His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he watches you free his cock and his eyes roll back when you fist it confidently. Pumping him at a deliciously slow place. You want to drag this out. You don't ever want this to end.

He puts his hand over yours once he gets fed up with your teasing. He loves how your hand feels around him but he needs more of you. He taps his leaking cock against your lips and you allow your spit to dribble down his shaft. "Stick that tongue out. There we go, baby. That's my girl. Look at that.”

He holds your hair back as you slide his length into your mouth, swirling your tongue around him. His fingers massage your scalp softly making you hum around him. He's a gentleman, a filthy one.

He couldn’t wait to switch places with you, falling to his knees so fluidly that you couldn’t help but to groan at the sight of him. His gaze never left yours. His eyes were constantly asking for permission to continue and you eagerly granted it every time.

He ate your pussy like a fucking starved man. Lick and sucking the expanse of your cunt like he’d never see you again. Your moans encouraged him as he lapped at you, he wanted - no, needed - you to cum on his tongue. It’s all that he’s been dreaming of for the last month.

He made you cum twice and had to hold back the urge to keep going. He’s definitely found his new favorite thing.

Nevermind, kissing you is his favorite thing. The way that you sigh into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue and biting his bottom lip drives him wild.

You’re seeing stars as soon as he slips into you. His strong arms on either side of your head as he hovers, kissing you softly as you adjust to him. “Fuck, you’re a dream come true, ya know that? I’ve dreamt of this, princess.” You can hardly reply once he fills you to the hilt but you try to anyway, moaning out as your vision blurs. “Wanted you so bad, Channie.”

That was enough to break him. He snapped his hips into you, giving you everything that you ever wanted, ever needed, from him. He fucks you deep, speeding up gradually just to hear you moan his name a little louder. He wants to be gentle with you but with a cunt that feels this amazing he can’t help but want to make you fall apart underneath him.

You always imagined being on top when you finally got to be with Chan but it looks like that’ll have to be another day. The way that his cock is splitting you open makes you feel like you might have to call out of work tomorrow.

“Look at me, babygirl. You liked seeing my pictures, huh? Did you touch this pretty cunt while looking at them?” You nod your head with such urgency that you’re positive that you look absolutely pathetic but Chan thinks that it’s cute, he’s in love with how fucked out you look drooling under him. “All you had to do was ask for the real thing.” He rolls his hips into you and your eyes roll back right after.

He holds both of your hands as he slows down a bit, he wants to make love to you. Wants to treat you like the precious gem that he knows that you are but your cunt keeps fucking squeezing around him. He curses under his breath as he tries to compose himself but it’s no use. He watches as he disappears inside of you, groaning when he sees just how perfectly your pussy is taking him. “You’re gonna make me cum, baby. You’re too much. Too good.”

Much to his surprise you cave before he does, chanting his name like a prayer while he rocks into you at the perfect angle. You feel dizzy as you unravel under him, nails digging into his strong arms and your legs wrapping around his waist in a desperate attempt to feel grounded.

The way that you look cumming on his cock drives him over the edge. He picks up the pace, fucking you through your orgasm while he’s chasing his. The overstimulation draws out your climax causing a new wave of pleasure to hit you harder than the last. “Yeah yeah yeah, oh fuck such a pretty girl cumming on my cock like that, that's it baby.” He doesn’t even know what he’s saying but he doesn’t care he’s so close so so so close.

You forced your eyes open when he pulled out, you needed to watch him stroke himself over the edge and cover your stomach in his cum. You need to take in the way his eyes squeeze shut and his brows furrow while he moans for you. “Oh fuck fuck fuck.”

The giggles that you share after may be Chan’s new favorite part. He cleaned you up and wrapped his arms around you. Pressing kisses to your hair as you both talk about what just happened with smiles on your faces

“This is a bit backwards but uh, can I take you out? Maybe next weekend?” The butterflies in your stomach go crazy as you blush into his chest, nodding happily and answering with a muffled ‘yes’ that makes Chan chuckle. “Maybe afterward I can fuck the sense back into ya, since I drove you insane tonight.”

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peachesofteal · 2 months

Text

Simple Math / Part Eleven

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 6k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Graphic depiction of domestic violence. This fic contains mature themes. Mention of pregnancy. Nurse!reader, hospital setting, medical inaccuracies. Bun is in pain, goes to a doctor. Dissociation. Lots of despair, fear, anxiety. The 141 reunites. Nightmares. Comfort. Tenderness. Angst. Welcome home.

“Knock knock.”

“Bunny.” Johnny murmurs, lifting an arm, urging you close, a moon to a tide.

“Hi.” You bend, moving into the hug, pressing your face to his neck for a quick second before straightening.

“I miss ye.” You survey him, glancing at the monitor, the brace on his leg and hip, the disconnected fluid line. He’s doing well. You’re so relieved to see it with your own eyes, ribs rattling with a long exhale. Satisfied, you smile, tension bleeding from your spine.

“Simon says you’re terrorizing your night nurse.”

“Am not. She’s jus’ not gentle, or quiet. Wakes me up.”

“That’s her job.” He scoffs, waving you off. You settle in the chair at his side, and he takes your hand in his, lifting it to his lips, dotting kisses across your knuckles. His affection is freeing, sweet and easy, a warm breeze on a spring day. It overflows your heart with warmth until you think it might spill over, and you go with it, following his lead, even though your better judgement, the girl in the mirror, wails.

“Ye look good. Better. Swellin’ gone down?” He cradles your chin, turning your face from left to right, inspecting with a crystal-clear sapphire gleam.

“Yeah, my shoulder is still sore but… yeah. I feel better.”

“’m glad. Simon keepin’ ye off yer feet all day then?”

“Oh my god.” You laugh. “He keeps telling me to lay down. Or asking if I want to take a nap.” Johnny chuckles.

“Sounds right. He’s a bit o’ a mother hen, that one. He cares though, we both do.”

“I know.” You squeeze his hand. “And I missed you too.”

“He said ye an’ him had a nice chat the other night?” Your cheeks burn. Oh god. Did he… “I’m a wee bit jealous.” He complains, turning his nose up and away in a mock pout, and you roll your eyes.

You laid in bed all night and thought about these moments. Thought about Simon’s mouth on yours, his hand on your ass, squeezing and stroking. You thought about how he tasted, how he smelled, the way he looked at you, like you were a part of their world, a piece of them.

And you thought about Johnny. Johnny alone here, Johnny trapped in the hospital, healing, unable to leave or even get out of bed. How anxious he must be, being separated from his family, how frustrating it is to spend so long trying to get better.

You wanted to give him something. Wanted to make him feel better, see him smile.

Here goes nothing.

Leaning, standing, you dip into his orbit, lightly bumping your noses together. It takes no time until his good hand is around the back of your neck, crashing your mouth into his, and he breathes you in, holding you steady, tongue and teeth and lips swirling together in a ubiquitous, overwhelming haze. He tastes like summer rain, the feeling in the air before a giant storm, electric and blazing, brilliant glow transferring between the two of you, lightning striking a mountaintop. He nips your bottom lip, heat flooding your stomach, and you pull away slowly, his eyes jeweled and shimmering, brilliantly blue.

“Bunny,” You try to swallow a quiet giggle and fail. “I’ll have to tell ye I’m jealous more often.”

“Don’t take advantage.” You playfully scold.

“Me? Take advantage?” He pretends to be outraged, voice piquing higher, and you laugh again. “How can I take advantage when ‘m the one stuck here in this bed while ye two are at home, playin’ house, takin’ couch naps and gettin’ butt rubs. No one cares about Johnny, no-“

“Shhh.” You press your lips to his, silencing him, remaining in the kiss that’s long and soft and saccharine. He sneaks his tongue back between your teeth, mischievous and wild, every bit the man you’re drawn to, an attraction you can’t fight.

“Well.” Simon clears his throat from the doorway, brows raised, mask snug. “Hope I’m not interrupting.” You don’t know why, but you fly backwards, nearly stumbling, cheeks on fire. You feel like you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t, and that feeling, the pit in the bottom of your stomach, is all too reminiscent.

It frightens you.

“Whoa, hey.” Johnny tries to snag a finger around your wrist, but you step out of the way.

“It’s alright.” Simon moves inside fully, clicking the door shut behind him. “You’re not in trouble. Nothing is wrong, I was just kidding. That’s my fault.” You shake your head.

He’s not mad. Johnny is fine. Everything is fine.

You’re overreacting. You’re making a mess of this.

You shouldn’t even be doing this in the first place. What’re you doing? Who are you kidding?

“I’m s-sorry.” You stammer, hands wringing together anxiously.

“Ye dinnae have anything to be sorry about.” Johnny protests, still trying to reach for you.

Get it together. You have to get it together.

You close your eyes.

Deep breath. In and out. You can do it. Just breathe.

It works. You’re steadier, and you meet their watchful gazes as your eyes open.

“You okay?” Simon murmurs, moving very slowly to the other side of the bed where you’re standing, like he’s approaching a spooked, scared, wild animal.

“Yeah. Sorry. Just… had a moment. I’m fine.” Not entirely true, but that’s alright. You feel a little unsteady, a little unnerved, and Johnny frowns.

“Ye should sit.”

“I’m fine.”

“Bunny, please. For me?” He bats his eyelashes, and you want to groan.

But you lower yourself in the chair all the same.

Quiet falls over the room. It’s awkward and stiff, and you curse yourself for ruining the moment.

“Hey.” Simon soothes, reading your mind. “Hey, you’re alright. Everything is fine.” You nod, unsettled. He squeezes your good shoulder and dips past you, leaning to press a gentle kiss to Johnny’s brow, before dotting his nose and pushing their lips together. Their kiss is long, languid touch melting away to expose their connection, trust and love on full display. Delicate and rare, their affection makes your heart flutter, pulchritudinous whispers given to one another as Simon holds Johnny’s hand, stroking a familiar pattern into his skin, something similar to the way he touches you. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine. Wish they’d let me out of this bloody bed.” Johnny grumbles. You clear your throat.

“They’re waiting on your wrist. Once your wrist can support your weight on crutches, then you’ll be able to start PT and be released.”

“Ach. I know.” He’s frustrated, it’s clear. You know it’s not easy, being here, being separated, stuck in a hospital.

“It won’t be too long.” You try to reassure him, and he nods, still a little forlorn. “Here,” you stand with a burst of confidence, knocking his arm with the back of your hand as a direction, “scooch over.”

His eyes light. Simon laughs.

You fold yourself onto the edge of the bed, turned on your side, curled along where he’s the least banged up, careful of the sensitive graft lurking beneath his hospital gown.

“There. That better?” His good arm wraps around you carefully, settling on your ribs, a thumb tracing the wrinkle of your shirt.

“Aye, much better.” Your knees are bent, and cool air ghosts over your lower back, where your shirt has ridden up and exposed your skin. You shiver.

“Cold?” Simon murmurs, and you nod. He’s close, hovering, pulling a blanket up from the end of the bed to cover both you and Johnny. He tucks it around the two of you carefully and leans forward, pulling his mask down again to brush his lips across Johnny’s brow.

You watch in a daze. They don’t speak, but there’s something happening between them, something being said in their eyes as Simon holds his face briefly, and Johnny nods.

They both look to you, your bottom lip caught between teeth.

“Want one too?” Simon hums, cupping the back of your head. “Here.” He kisses you, lingering in it, heat of his naked mouth still a shock to your system.

Johnny is beaming, and cuddles you as close as possible, cheek resting atop your forehead.

They make you dizzy. All of it feels like some kind of dream, a world impossible, a fantasy suddenly turned real life. You’re on the verge of spinning out of control inside it, losing yourself.

It doesn’t help that everything you’ve done over these last few years, this identity, this life, the work that went into hiding and planning and saving and scraping, trying to stay unseen and unnoticed-

Was all for nothing.

“Bunny?” Johnny whispers, bringing you back to them. Simon is settled in the recliner, the same one from the ICU room, but his arm is stretched past your head, fingers playing idly in Johnny’s very long mohawk.

“Sorry. I’m here.”

“Where did ye go?” He tightens his hold, and you snuggle in closer, hiding away from everything bearing down on you, the pain and the panic and the doubt. You hide your face from it, refuse to acknowledge it, desperately trying to stay in this moment, hoping to just be… be here with them. In the sun.

“Nowhere.”

A day passes. Then another, and another, and another. Your face nearly looks normal, puffiness and swelling practically gone, and your neck aches less and less with each passing day.

Your shoulder, on the other hand, is a problem.

It never stops hurting. You struggle to get your arm through your shirts, can barely lift it, can't pick anything up, and it’s so sore, tender, and stiff, like it’s been dislocated or worse, broken. You’re worried, worried about going back to work without a full range of motion, worried about being in pain.

Worried about being even more permanently damaged than you already are.

Just another tally mark. Just another thing you must live with now, a permanent remnant of him, a forever reminder of just how foolish you really are.

You’re weak. You’re stupid. You’re damaged.

The pain breaks you down. It prevents you from sleeping, keeps you twisting and turning through a roil of dark dreams. It depresses you, sinks its teeth into your flesh and gnaws on the pieces touched by the sun, the parts of your heart still beating, somehow.

It reminds you of everything you’re desperate to forget.

It all comes crashing down one morning. The despair. The helpless feeling brewing in your stomach. The loneliness. It keeps you there, in bed, in agony, past breakfast.

It keeps you there, until you hear the creak of the stairs, a firm knock.

“I’m coming in.” Simon advises, trying the door, cracking it enough to stick his head through.

You’re crumpled in the middle of the mattress, pillows strewn about from trying to find a comfortable position, tears already dried. Your shoulder hurts so bad, and you don’t know why, don’t know why it’s not getting better, not healing.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” He sits at your side, hand resting on your hip, inspecting the worry lines, the frown tugging at your lips. “What’s going on?” Guilt swamps you.

“It’s nothing, my shoulder just kept me up, so I’m a little tired. That’s all.” You paste on your work smile, forced and believable, but he only shakes his head.

“Don’t do that.” He thumbs your brow. “I think you should see a doctor.”

“N-no.” You can’t. He doesn’t understand. They’ll want to take x-rays. X-rays lead to questions.

He never takes you at face value. Always pushing. Always digging, looking you over. “Why not?”

“It’s… it’s not necessary. I’m fine, it’s probably just a deep bruise.”

“You’d be experiencing less pain if that was the case.” You raise an eyebrow. He shrugs. “I know a little bit. We all have basic medic training, and I’ve been reading up, for when Johnny gets home.” He pats your hip. “Let’s make you an appointment.” You shake your head.

“No!” It’s too sharp, too insistent, and he freezes. You wince. “I’m sorry. It’s just-“

“You can’t go to a doctor.” He finishes, like he knows. “Tell me why, sweetheart.” You take a shaky breath.

You can’t. You shouldn’t.

Sunlight taps against the iron that’s encrusted around your heart. It knocks, wanting to be let in. It searches for weakness, places of opportunity, slivers of space where it can find its way.

Your mouth starts moving before you give it permission, like it knows this is where you’re headed, no matter how hard you fight, no matter how deeply the survivor’s logic is ingrained in your brain.

“It… it’s not safe.”

“It creates a trail.” He surmises, and you nod. For a wild moment, you wonder if he’s a plant. If they’re a trap, designed to get you to lower your guard, fabricated to encourage you to trust, to love, just so the jaws of Philip’s cruelty can close around you at the most opportune moment.

They wouldn’t. They’re not. You’re being ridiculous. You’re paranoid.

“We’ll make it under my name. Our primary is service member focused, and very discreet. You’ll be safe.” He makes it hard to argue, even though you want to. You should.

“I- I don’t know.”

“I can’t stand to see you in pain like this.” He rebukes, and then smiles softly, eyes lighting up. “Besides, I’m going to need your help. Johnny’s coming home on Friday.”

“He is?” You push upward. “Really?”

“Really.” He’s beaming, radiant sunshine spilling from his lips, and it makes you emotional, seeing him so happy, so weightless. “He passed a strength test on his wrist this morning. He needs a few days of PT in hospital, and then he can do it outpatient. His care team has signed off, and he’s ready.”

“Oh my god, that’s great!”

“It is. But I want both of you on the mend, not just one. Please.” It doesn’t take much more for you to concede, unable to find an excuse or a good enough reason, one he’s not able to combat.

“Alright, I guess.”

“Simon. Good to see you.” The doctor extends his hand and Simon shakes it readily, keeping his body positioned between you and the physician, one hand still on your knee.

He’s had a hand on you for the last half hour. You’ve been rattling on the exam table, shifting and fretful, disquieted energy spilling forth since he coaxed you into the car this morning.

“Dr. Fitch.”

“This is my patient?” He motions to you, and Simon stands to the side, concentrating, eyes focused above the mask. You give your name, and the provider repeats it with a warm smile.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Fitch.” You raise your good arm to shake his hand, and he pulls the rolling stool underneath him, taking a seat opposite Simon at your knee.

A warm palm flexes at your lower back. It’s soothing, comforting.

I’m here, it says. You’re safe.

“Simon says you’ve been having some shoulder pain?”

“Yeah, I had… I had an injury. Thought there was some soft tissue damage, maybe some minor bruising, but the pain is too persistent.”

“Mind if I take a look?” He points to the side you’re clearly favoring.

“Sure.” It’s not comfortable, to have another man’s hands on you outside of your job. There’s no trust there, no familiarity like there is with Simon and Johnny, and your body knows it, practically vibrating as he walks his fingers up your scapula. Simon stays close, still with a hand at your back, watching intently.

Dr Fitch holds your elbow, and slowly lifts your arm until you’re telling him to stop, pins and needles radiating through your shoulder and up your neck.

“I think we need an x-ray so we can really see what’s going on.” Your fingers curl, nails digging into your palm.

Fuck.

“I… I think I just need a sling, or an immobilizer for a few weeks. Give it some time to heal.” You try to protest, but he shakes his head.

“I can’t be sure of any of that, without an x-ray.” Oh god. You think you might throw up.

He’s right, though. You know he’s right. You know no good provider in their right mind would sign off on a treatment plan without knowing the extent of an injury. He’s not going to let you dictate what you need.

“Bun.” Simon murmurs, and you blow out a rough breath.

“Okay, fine.”

Dr. Fitch is grim when he reappears almost an hour later, throwing the films up for both you and Simon to see.

You spot what’s soured him immediately, and there’s a sharp intake of breath behind you, the tell-tale sign of Simon noticing it too.

“This side of your body has seen a lot of trauma.” The doctor says gently. He’s not unkind, but still clinical. The kind of provider you’d like you work with, you think. “These old injuries, your clavicle, acromion, even this break in your ulna, make your scapula a very delicate part of your body. I think an MRI would show a fair amount of cartilage damage in these areas.” He motions around your joint, and you close your eyes.

You can’t do this.

If Dr. Fitch sees your unease or panic, he pushes past it. “You have a rotator cuff tear. The good news is, it’s not surgical. I recommend physical therapy for injuries like these, along with activity modification and lots of rest. I want to do a corticosteroid injection for your pain as well. Today, if you’d like. You’ll need to rest your arm for twenty-four hours afterwards, make sure you’re not lifting anything or moving it…” He continues, but you lose track, lose focus, staring at the vinyl tile, weird grey and pink and green patterns all worked together to make some of the ugliest floor you’ve ever seen.

You zone out. Lose yourself. The films mock you, their ugly, horrific images hanging you out to dry, showcasing the truth, the reminders you’ll never be able to escape.

The pieces of you, changed permanently.

It’s hard to look at. Hard to think of.

You’d rather be considering survival. Counting your cash and researching new places to live. New communities to disappear inside, a new life to assume.

It’s easier to run.

You can’t look at Simon. Can't bear the shame. Can't believe he's seeing this, your nightmares on display.

You keep your eyes fixed on the wall.

The girl in the mirror is falling apart. She despises being confronted with your failings, your weakness, the results of your stupidity.

It’s far less common now, these mistakes. These slip ups.

But before… before… they indulged Philip in a beautiful game of cat and mouse. You made it fun, made it exciting. A wolf with his prey. Playing with his food before he eats. Before he strings it up and breaks its collarbone because he likes to hear it scream.

Simon is talking to the provider, asking questions, receiving answers. You can barely hear him. You’re underwater.

The only thing that tethers you to the earth is the hand on your back, the warm, gentle, broad, grounding pressure.

There’s more conversation, and then Dr. Fitch is vacating the room.

Is it time to go?

You try to stand on autopilot, but Simon holds you steady.

“We’re going to do the steroid, for your pain.” He drifts into your line of sight, pulling the mask down. “Bunny, look at me.”

When you can’t, he follows your gaze.

The films come off the wall within the next second, ripped down by the long reach of his arm.

Gone.

“I have to go.” You whisper.

“You’re not going anywhere. You’re going to get this injection, and then I’m going to take you home and put you to bed.”

He doesn’t understand your meaning.

Or maybe he does.

Home. The word rings in your ears like a punch. It’s like you’ve been hit with it, burned with it.

Home.

He’s not forceful, but you still feel the pressure, the insistence. You expect to rail against him. To cower.

Instead, you slip inside it. Allow him to tell you what to do, to make the decision. You fall easily into him, and he holds your hand through it all, while the injection site is swabbed, when the needle goes in. He holds your hand out to the car, holds your hand as he buckles you in. He holds your hand as he tucks you into a bed larger and softer than the one you've been sleeping in. It smells like him and Johnny, soft sheets and pillows piled around you like a wall, false sense of security building every time you twitch, testing where is he is, if he’s left yet.

The last thing you feel before you drift off to sleep is your hand, still in his.

You don't know how long you sleep. You sail in the darkness, navigating turbulent seas, waking every now and then, sometimes alone... sometimes not.

The baby monitor blinks pale green, little circle fuzzy on the edge of your vision, appearing and disappearing throughout the day.

Sometimes the bed is warm. Sometimes it's not.

When it is, you seek him out on instinct, trying to crawl inside his ribs, frantic with your effort to hide, to run. He holds you through it, rocks you gently, tells you you're safe, says you don't have to be afraid anymore, he's here now. He'll take care of you.

There's a rope around your ankle, tied too tight, tethered to the ocean floor. It drags you down, rips you away from him, fills your lungs and silences you.

You didn't make it.

All you can see behind closed lids is those films. All you can feel is the phantom ache in your limbs, the remnants of a shadow, still living and breathing inside of you.

The girl in the mirror is silent. Nothing to say for once in her life, she weeps like her chest is being carved open, sobs and screams pouring out in a flood.

I know you'll be here when I get back, won't you?

The house is vibrant today.

Lou has been here, stocking the fridge, precooking some meals, and her husband is helping Simon rearrange the living room, moving pieces of the couch to be more accessible, laughing back and forth quietly. Occasionally, he stops into the kitchen where you’re seated next to Pen in her highchair, checking in, but never encroaching.

He doesn’t get too close, right now. You’re still underwater somewhere, lost in a current. You’re here, but not really, silently drifting like a ghost, watching and waiting for something or someone to shake you out of it.

Simon hasn’t yet, but he’s watching. Always.

He’s intentionally careful, loud. Announcing himself everywhere he goes in the house, telling you everything he’s doing.

You didn’t understand why at first. Didn’t realize you hadn’t spoken in eight hours, and then ten, then twelve.

Trapped in a tomb of yourself, locked away with the girl in the mirror.

Guilt burns like a wildfire.

This should be a happy time. A wonderful time.

But all you’re doing is making a mess of their life.

Lou, thankfully, doesn’t push you either. She’s content to let you sit there, next to Pen. She keeps an eye out, glancing over at you occasionally, but your placating smiles seem to satisfy her.

Simon steps in front of the counter, ducking his head down to catch your eyes. “I’m going to pick Johnny up.” Somewhere, in the pits of hell, excitement blooms. Happiness tries to sprout. “Do you want to come?” Definitely not. They’ll certainly clap him out, and there’s no way you can be there for that.

“No, I’m… okay.”

“Okay. Penny is coming with me, but John and Lou are staying here. Kyle is coming by. If Johnny’s feeling up to it, I’m hoping to do dinner all together.” Acid is tossed around, tempestuous in your stomach. Lou smiles around his side.

“Want to watch something while we wait?”

“Sure.” She disappears down the hall, saying something to John, and Simon slowly pulls Pen from her chair, kissing her cheek and nose before cradling her to his chest. She’s not a small baby, but in his hold, she’s tiny, soft and delicate, content in her dad’s arms, still a little sleepy from her afternoon nap.

“We’ll be back soon.” He whispers, turning to go.

Your hand whips forward instinctively, out of control.

It latches onto his.

“Simon. I’m… I’m sorry.” You’re sorry you’re ruining everything. You’re sorry you’re fucked up beyond belief, you’re sorry he had to see all that in the doctor’s office, you’re sorry, you’re sorry, you’re sorry.

He squeezes. “Shhh, hey. There’s nothing to be sorry about.” He shifts, still holding Penny, but stooping down to crouch at your knees, his own popping with effort. “It’s okay, if you have to go somewhere else for a little while up there, as long as you're not lost in it.” He motions to your head. “Nothing has changed. We’re still right here, everything is alright. Huh, Penny girl?” He bounces her, and she shrieks out a giggle, reaching for his face. He kisses her hands like he’s trying to eat them, rumble in his voice making her squeal, and he catches your faint smile. “There she is.” He kisses your forehead. “We’ll be back soon, okay?”

“Okay.”

You hear Johnny before you see him.

There’s a scrape of crutches, his voice animated, talking to his baby, Penny giggling wildly outside on the walk. Lou and John exchange a comfortable smile, and she manages to get the door open before Simon can get his key in the lock.

“Welcome home!” She exclaims, and Penny squeaks, clapping excitedly. She’s wriggly, wanting to get down immediately upon crossing the threshold, but Simon holds her firm, turned around so Lou can snap their picture.

“Ach, Price, can ye do somethin’-“ Johnny laments, but the captain only laughs and looks on.

“Hey! Come on, you’ll want this, later. I promise. Look over here.” They’re picture perfect, Penny cradled between them, Johnny’s hair moved out of his face, his posture a little slouched because of his hip and leg. His head rests on Simon’s shoulder, an arm stretched across his middle, right under Penny, who glows from her perch, the center of attention.

An ache unfurls in the middle of your chest, a sore spot, growing, spreading through your body.

They’re so lovely, it hurts. This moment is beautiful, a homecoming, a story of survival and perseverance. Johnny’s strength and determination. Doing something you know a lot of people initially doubted.

The dark spot of pain passes, fleeting.

Johnny’s eyes find yours. “Ye goin’ make me hobble all the way over there?” He teases, and you shake your head.

The two of you can only give half hugs, but you make it work, holding onto him, fingers fisted in the back of his shirt.

“Welcome home.” You whisper in his ear, and he pulls away, notching his forehead against yours. His eyes glitter, heavy, trembling breath filtering through his nose, and he kisses you slowly, so painfully slowly it’s like you’re the only one in the entire house, in the whole world.

“You too, bunny.”

Dinner is lively. Kyle arrives shortly before it’s time to sit down, greetings and warm wishes passed around as everyone gets settled, Penny positioned in highchair between the guys with mashed potatoes and peas already scooped onto her tray. Johnny’s on your left, with Lou on your right, and Simon sits at the head of the table, across from who you realize now, is his old, or kind of still, boss.

He looks perfect there, half turned towards Pen and Johnny, radiantly smiling at his partner and daughter, trying again and again to catch your eye. Johnny's knee stays steady against yours, fingertips occasionally brushing your thigh, and the two of them try to draw you in, pull you towards them, over and over.

Conversation flows easily. They’re all talking, laughing, swapping stories, poking at one another. Kyle tells you about a time he fell out of a helicopter, and they all tease Johnny about nearly dying this time, or a different time, you can’t be too sure.

“Ye jus’ wish ye had the natural ability I do.” He sniffs, and Kyle chortles, struggling to swallow his food.

“I’d probably be dead, mate.”

“’Cause ye cannae handle it!” He retorts, and Simon laughs, causing Penny to giggle too, and then the entire table erupts in it, attention redirected, cooing at the adorable girl with mashed potatoes smeared on her face. Johnny and Simon fuss over her, a perfect family in unison.

There’s a whining, buzzing noise in the back of your head. It’s an off-key tenor, annoying and coarse, like the snag of rough skin texture against a soft sweater.

What are you doing here?

The world, this room, these people, spin and spiral around you. Talking, laughing, loving. Making connections with each other, feeling the warmth of love and friendship, of happiness.

The buzzing gets louder.

You’re vaguely in it now, still seated but not here, not anywhere. You’re drifting, falling away, slipping behind walls and layers, hiding.

The girl in the mirror approves.

What makes you think you have any right to be here? What makes you think you could ever possibly belong here? With them? With their friends? Their family?

You’re an intruder.

You’re risking their safety. You’re making a mistake.

Lou boasts a sharp laugh, and you nearly flinch.

You don’t belong here. You’re supposed to be alone. It was supposed to be okay, to be alone.

You’re selfish.

Simon reaches for Johnny’s hand, stretching across Penny’s spot, eyes heavy with love. There’s so much in his expression alone, dedication, devotion, borderline obsession bleeding through, and he holds Johnny like he’s holding his lifeline.

You’ll never be loved like that, known like that, cherished and protected… like that.

And why should you be?

You’re standing before you announce it, trying to hold yourself together. Both guys look to you, Simon’s expression changing from amusement and love to worry and concern, while Johnny mirrors it, and tries to grab your hand.

“Ye alright?”

“Bun?”

“I’m fine, just… uh. My stomach.” You lie, motioning away from the table, like it makes any sense. You excuse yourself quickly, apologizing, and practically run up the stairs.

The guest bathroom door locks, and you slide down against the tub, slumping over to rest your cheek on cold tile. “Fuck.” You whisper, rubbing at your cheeks. What is wrong with you?

You lay there long enough that your shoulder starts to hurt. Everything aches, your heart too, and wipe your cheeks over and over, trying to regain control of a sinking ship.

God, you really, really hope they aren’t mad you bailed.

The bed is your only option, your only salvation, and you sink into without fuss, burying yourself beneath a pile of blankets, hiding yourself away from the world.

At least when you sleep, you can’t think.

At least when you sleep, you can’t feel.

“Philip, please.”

“You made a fucking fool of me tonight.” He grips your upper arm so tight it feels like he’s cutting into your flesh, branding you, burning you down to the bone.

“No, I- I wasn’t trying to, I swear.”

“I think you were, spitfire. I think you wanted to see me sweat, didn’t you? Wanted to play a little game, huh?”

“No!” you’re crying, chest heaving with giant sobs, and his fist tightens in your hair, dragging you down to the ground. “No, Philip, stop. Stop!”

“Shut up.” You’re crawling on your knees, trying to keep pace, trying to stay in stride with him as he tugs, practically pulling you down the hallway to the bedroom.

Once he gets there, he jerks you upwards.

The hardwood floor is the next thing you see as your face crashes into it.

“S-stop.” You’re barely audible, buried in sobs. He mocks you.

“Stoooop, babe. Stop please.” Your arms cover your head, trying to protect your delicate bones there, your skull, your nose, your cheeks.

His foot rears back.

The world goes cold.

“NO!” you jerk your knees up to your chest, rolling away. “No! I’m pregnant!”

You think he’ll be happy. You think he’ll be pleased.

Instead, it’s raw, concentrated fury you see lining his face, lightning and thunder gathering in his eyes.

“You’re what?”

You come to trembling, coated in a cold sweat.

It’s okay. He’s not here. He’s not. You’re safe.

You clasp a hand over your mouth to ward off the volume of the sob, nausea rising until you’re almost gagging.

It’s okay.

You can do this. Get it together.

Time ticks away, but the agony of your memory, your nightmare, doesn’t fade. It settles in your bones like a sickness, infecting your mind and heart, keeping you from closing your eyes.

You can’t go back there. Not in real life. Not in your dreams. Not ever.

You would die before that happened.

Johnny and Simon sleep down the hall. You wonder if they’re wrapped up together, if Johnny is comfortable, if their room is cozy and homey, bed heavenly and full of love.

You could…

No.

The clock on your phone reads three in the morning. You feel like you haven’t slept at all, but every time you try to close your eyes, dread spreads, tenebrous and sticky, clinging to every synapse in your logical brain.

You eye the door.

You could…

Should you? Would they be mad? Would they welcome you? Would they even answer?

You don’t know how you convince yourself to do it, to drag your weak will down the hall and knock on their door, but you do. You’re a child the whole way, padding up to a parent’s room in the middle of the night, looking for salvation and sanctuary, desperate for comfort.

It takes almost no time after your timid little rap for the door to swing wide, Simon standing behind it, little lamp flicked on where Johnny is half sitting up, mostly still asleep, rubbing his eyes.

“Hi.” You whisper, distracted by Simon’s naked chest. He’s wearing sweatpants, but they’re slung low on his hips, soft tummy with wispy light brown hair peeking out above the drawstring. You think you’re staring, and you force a blink, trying to appear normal.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing, I just… I had a nightmare and…I… I can’t…” the rest doesn’t come out, laying heavy on your tongue, trying to organize itself so it doesn’t seem so intrusive, or weak.

He doesn’t make you feel bad. Or guilty. He doesn’t even ask, he just steps aside, motioning to bed, clicking the door shut behind him.

“Take the middle.” He whispers, and you crawl across the expanse, timidly smiling at Johnny, who’s still yawning. He’s got his bad leg and hip set up on a bunch of pillows, and the spot next to him is still warm.

“Hey pretty girl.”

“Hi.” He pats the empty space, shoving the blankets down to the best of his ability to let you get underneath them.

“Bad dream?” He drawls, slow and sleepy.

“Yeah.”

“C’mere.” He tries to tug you closer, but Simon scolds him softly.

“Johnny, easy. Your graft.” He turns, sliding, encouraging you to settle on your side, with him at your back. “There we go. That’s better, hm?” It is better. So much better. Warm and safe. Blocked in on either side by them, your hand resting on Johnny’s sternum, grounding yourself with the rise and fall of his breathing, Simon nestling you into his chest, heavy arm slung across your ribs to hold Johnny’s hand.

It's so nice, tucked between them like you belong there, things start to spiral a little bit, doubt and worry fueling a cycle of second guessing. You shift restlessly, and Simon rubs your hip, soothing whatever he senses amiss back to neutral, lips humming just above your ear. “Close your eyes, little bunny. We’re here. You’re safe.”

#peaches writes #simple math #ghoap x reader #ghost x reader x soap #ghost x soap x reader #simon riley #john mactavish #simon riley x reader #soap x reader #john mactavish x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ghost x reader

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eddiesxangel · 3 months

Text

Show Me Pt.2 | Older!Neighbour!Eddie X Reader

Summary: Eddie finds your little treasure chest and decides to have some fun with you.

Cw: established relationship, age gap, use of sex toys on reader, oral, p in v, breeding kink? (Reader is on birth control but not disclosed in fic), creampie, dirty talk, daddy kink, pussy slapping, orgasm denial, anal play, possessive Eddie, soft!Dom Eddie x f!sub reader.

WC 3.2k

Read part 1

“Sunshine, can you come up here?” your boyfriend calls out from your loft.

He had run up to take a shower not too long ago after coming home from a long day at the shop. He won’t admit it but he much prefers your sweet smelling expensive soaps and lotions to his off brand 2 in 1.

“What is it baby?” You ask as you walk up the stairs to see your boyfriend clad in a low hanging towel, reminding you of the first time you had met him six months ago. His wet happy trail lead to that delicious bulge he is packing.

He was standing in front of your bed like he was trying to hide something with his wide frame.

“I don’t know you tell me?” He shrugged.

You could tell he was up to something. You give him a pointed look before he continues.

“I thought we were good, Sugar? I thought that we had trust? but now I don’t know who you are anymore?”

“Eddie, baby what are you talking about?” Now you were worried. What did he think you did?

“We have such a strong relationship, and you think you could hide this from me?” He steps to the side, revealing what is on your bed.

Your eyes widen as your multiple vibrators, dildos, and other play toys are splayed across the floral duvet.

“Eddie!” You rush over, trying to cover them up, mildly embarrassed. Eddie was the only one you’d been with; you didn’t want to scare him away with your collection.

Eddie stops you before you can do anything.

“Nuh-uh, I don’t think so, missy; you can’t just pretend that you have all these tools and not think I’m not going to play, do you?”

A wave of arousal washed over your core at his words. Eddie using your toys on you? That’s something you never dreamed of. However, it’s your most desired need right now.

“I-I-“

“Now, you’ve been a naughty girl, keeping this from me.”

“No! I’ve been so good!” You counter back, only knowing it would rile Eddie up even more, and you could feel his stiffening cock on your thigh.

“I think we should start off slow… tease you until you’re begging for it. How’s that sound?” Eddie’s hot breath fanned across your ear and neck, sending a shiver up your spine.

“Oh-okay,” you stuttered.

“Good girl,” he tapped your ass before telling you to strip.

Your clothes came off instantly, and Eddie’s towel had been hung up on the bathroom door to dry.

His half-hard cock bounced as he walked over to the bed before picking up a small pink vibrator, one of your favourites, and sat down in the middle of the bed up against the pillows. He patted his thick, hairy thigh as he instructed you to come sit between his legs. You crawled up to him before turning around, resting your back against him, and letting your head fall on his shoulder.

“Lean back and open your legs for me, Sugar, yea that’s it.” His rough, thick hands explored your inner thighs as he made sure you were sitting and as widely spread as possible.

He kissed the side of your neck as his hands travelled up and across your stomach, around to your breasts, making sure to pinch your nipples as his mouth explored your delicate skin.

He let his hands roam your soft body a little bit more before picking up the vibrator and turning it on.

A low buzzing filled the silent room before you let out a breathy moan as Eddie gently teased you. He let the little silicone toy glide across your arms, down your cleavage all the way past your belly button to your little thatch of hair that covered your mound, then back up again. You quivered as the vibrator tickled your nipples.

“More please.” Your hand gripped Eddie’s wrist.

“Not yet.” He mumbled in your ear.

“Please”

“No, Princess. You have been naughty. This is your punishment.”

“I’m sorry,” you pleaded. You would do anything for him, your touch, your already-soaked pussy. You could feel your slick, cool against the air of the room, but he kept building up the anticipation of finally touching you where you wanted it most.

“Oh, now you’re sorry,” he tutted.

“Yes,” you gasp.

Eddie’s free hand found your nipple, tweaking and pinching it to his desire. This only flooded your pussy once more with arousal. You could feel it start to run down your thighs as you tried to close your legs for any sense of friction.

“No,” Eddie growled once again, unlatching his fingertips from your nipple and vibrator to wrench your legs open once again.

“You’re going to keep your pretty legs open so Daddy can play.” his hot lip brushed against your exposed throat.

A wet slap filled the bedroom as a sharp sting struck your clit when Eddie’s fingers slapped your swollen clit.

“Fuck!” You jerk your body back further into your boyfriend, only pushing his stiff cock into your back. You’re sure there will probably be a penis-head-shaped bruise there in a few hours, and the thought made you giggle.

“Oh, you like that baby girl?” His condescending tone only made you wetter.

His thick tattooed fingers came down on your pussy once again before pinching your clit between his thumb and forefinger.

You grip his forearms needing something to dig your fingers into, and let out a breathy moan, and Eddie’s cock twitches at your shaky voice.

“I think you’re enjoying this a little too much” he picked up the vibrator again, clicked it on the second strongest level and finally placed it on your clit.

Your hips automatically started gyrating into you as your orgasm quickly built.

“You going to cum?”

“Mmhm,” you nod your head.

“Not yet,” he growled.

“Okay” you whined as you tried your hardest to stay still, you hold on but Eddie was teasing you so good you couldn’t help but feel the need to cum right now-

“Good girl,” he swirled the vibrator around and around.

“I wanna cum, please!”

“I decide when.”

But you couldn’t hold on any longer. “Daddy, I’m cumming!”

Eddie ripped the toy away from you the second the words left your lips, denying you your pleasure.

“This one doesn’t seem to be working,” he clicked it off and threw it to the side.

“No, no, please,” you cried.

“Don’t be a brat” he slapped your throbbing pussy once more before pushing you up off of him so he could crawl to the end of the bed and get a fresh toy.

“No! I was so close-”

“Let’s try this one.” He plucked up your rabbit, and you stopped arguing.

You frantically nod your head as you crawl back, splaying your legs wide open for Eddie. His eyes zoned in on your glistening pussy lips. They were puffy and swollen and the prettiest shade. You watched as his eyes glazed over with lust; you knew he wanted to dive in.

“I know you wanna, Daddy,” you teased, slipping your middle finger through your folds.

“No, mine.” Eddie pushed your hand away and replaced it with his own.

You let your head fall back as his thick fingers ran through your folds, collecting your slick before he pushed it up inside of you.

A throaty moan left your lips and your overly sensitive pussy clenched down on Eddie’s finger.

“Your pussy is so tight, baby, I can’t wait to stuff it full with my cock”

“I need you!”

“Greedy, greedy girl, so greedy for my cock”

“Only yours!”

“That’s right, baby girl, this pussy is mine, mine, mine,” he worked his fingers inside your pussy as he spoke.

“Can I cum, now?” Your eyes watered; you needed it so badly.

“No, Sunshine. We haven’t even started.” He smirked and removed his fingers and sucked them clean before he reached over for the rabbit you had forgotten about.

Eddie ran the tip of the toy through your puffy folds before breaching your tight hole. Once it was fully submerged and the ears were pushed against your clit is when he turned it on.

A throaty growl left your mouth when he started up the toy.

“This one your favourite princess?”

You nod your head frantically, not able to speak. The vibrations on your clit mixed with the thrusting in the dildo made your head spin.

“Tell me how you use it.”

“Wh-what?” You were fucked out already, and you hadn’t cum once yet.

“When you’re all alone, dreaming about me, needy for my touch. What. Do. You. Do?”

“Eddie! Eddie! Eddie!” You chant his name like a mantra as he pumps the purple toy in and out of your needy cunt.

“That’s what I like to hear, but I prefer Daddy. You know that princess” he slipped it out fully, and you cried out again. Your orgasm was so close, just ripped away from you once again.

“Daddy, please!” You slam your fists in that bed with frustration.

“I’m sorry, baby girl.” He wasn’t sorry at all.

His cock was throbbing. This was the longest foreplay he’d ever put you through, and you’d yet to touch him.

“I think it’s Daddy’s turn for a little fun.” He sat up, crawling up your body to kiss you for the first time since this little punishment started. He was only a man; he could only hold out for so long.

Your lips were hungry as your tongue slipped past his lips. You needed any kind of comfort and contact from your boyfriend.

You let out a whimper as his large tattooed frame pulled away.

“Now, now, Sunshine, you get to have fun too.” He laid back beside you, and you quickly shuffled your way down to rest between his legs.

You lay flat on your stomach, aligning your mouth with his bright pink cock.

His cock lay flat against his trim stomach aligning with the happy trail covering his belly button. His clean dark hair surrounding the base of his shaft and his full round balls only made his cock more tempting.

Your mouth watered as you grasped it in your hand. Your fingers hardly touch as his girth was so wide. You waisted not another moment as you brought the tip up to your lips. Eddie’s eyes found yours as he gazed down at you lovingly; he couldn’t hold back his smile as his good girl took his cock so well.

“Yes, that’s it, baby, good girl,” he praised as your mouth took him further. His usual briny, salty taste was replaced by floral sweetness as he used your soaps and shampoos not an hour ago.

You hummed as he hit the back of your throat, and it sent a wave of pleasure through Eddie. Your hair was pulled taut from Eddie’s fingers, gripping it in his fist.

As you gripped the base of his cock in one hand, your other travelled under to fondle his balls; your mouth worked its way up and down the long thick shaft before your mouth found his balls. You continued jerking him while you kissed and sucked his perfect balls.

“Fuck Princess, you’re so good at that, my perfect girl. My good girl” his lean stomach clenched as he tried to hold off his orgasm.

“But I thought I was naughty, Daddy?” You pout innocently. You knew what you were doing.

“You were, but I think you’ve shown me you’re sorry.” He shifted his weight to crawl back to the end of the bed where the toys were still gathered. You scanned the options, excited for what he would choose for you next.

“Now, Princess. There is something that we haven’t tried yet. Now you are in control with this, so you can tell me no, but-” he reaches down on the bed, and your eyes widen when you spot the toy he fondles.

“Yes,” you don’t hesitate. Your pussy floods once again as Eddie brings up the silver bejewelled butt plug to view.

“You sure?”

Before Eddie could finish speaking, you’re already on your hands and knees, arching your back and presenting yourself to your boyfriend. You eagerly wiggled your cheeks at Eddie, and he just about came right then and there.

“Fuck” Eddie fucks his fist as he watches his girl spread herself for him with all the confidence and need. “What did I do on God's green earth to deserve you?”

“Probably something realllllly good,” you smirk over your shoulder, biting your lip as you watch Eddie watch you. “Lube is in the same drawer,” you motion to the nightstand.

Quickly, Eddie hops off the bed and gets the lube before he busts a nut by just looking at you.

You hear the hard plastic of the lid snap and the lewd, wet sound of the lube being squirted out of the bottle. The cold liquid hits your puckered hole, and you flinch a little at the temperature shock, but Eddie quickly warms it up with his fingers, and he circles your tight hole with his fingers before slowly pushing them inside.

You breathe in sharply as Eddie’s thick fingers spread you open. You feel so full as he pumps them in and out, slowly spreading you open.

“Good girl, just like that. Relax for me, Sunshine.”

“So good,” you whisper, pushing your ass further into Eddie’s penetration.

“I think you’re ready, princess.”

“Yes,” you agree.

Eddie twirls the little jewel in his hand, admiring it before he gently pushes it into your ass.

“Fuck” you both breathe out as it enters you.

Eddie can’t help but stroke his cock in his fist again as he takes a mental picture. There was no way he was ever forgetting this moment; this spank bank material would last him a lifetime.

“Daddy, please,” You wiggled your ass once more, and you swear you heard Eddie whimper behind you.

Your glistening pussy was so inviting, especially with the little silver jewel perched right atop your needy hole, only making it more pleasurable for both of you.

“Gunna mark my pussy, gonna fill it with so much cum” Eddie finally slipped his cock into your dripping cunt.

You let out a guttural moan as his thick cock splits you open.

“Fuck me, you’re so tight,” Eddie grits through his teeth; he can feel the butt plug inside you as he pushes through your wet canal.

You felt so full, so good, and so fucked out as Eddie started to pump himself in and out of you. He couldn’t believe how fucking sexy you were. He couldn’t be that you let him play with you like this. He could use his own little doll to his pleasure.

He snapped his hips into your wet pussy, and his balls slapped against your clit, only aiding your pleasure. The sounds of wet slaps and moans of pleasure filled the quiet loft. Eddie grazed against your g spot on each snap, and Eddie could see the creamy ring collect at the bottom of his cock. Your slick coated his thick thatch of hair at the base of his shaft, but he didn’t care; he wanted you to mark him.

“God, your pussy is so good, so tight, so perfect, my perfect little princess”

“Eddie!” You cry your orgasm building and building. You prayed he would let you fall apart this time.

“I can feel you, baby; your pussy is clenching my cock so good.” He slapped your plush ass cheek, and that made you quiver. Your elbows give out, and your head falls into the bed below you, only making your ass stick out further.

You feel Eddie grip each cheek in both hands, his whole palm covers most of your ass, and he spreads you open even wider. He loves watching as his cock disappears as you suck him in.

“Fuck, you’re being so good for Daddy.”

“More,” you whimper.

Eddie reaches over at your request and finds the pink vibrator, and flicks it on to the highest setting before placing it in your swollen clit.

You can’t hold off for ten seconds, and your body convulses under Eddie’s touch.

“I’m cuming!!” Your body washes over with a bolt of pleasure rippling through you.

“Fuck, such a good girl, fuckin’ gripping my cock so tight. You want this cum so badly, don’t you? Squeezing me so good, you make sure that I’m going to pump you so full”

Eddie’s hips only worked faster; the vibrator was still latched to your clit, you were overly sensitive, but Eddie didn’t care you were going to cum on his cock again.

“Eddie, please, too much.” You were vibrating along with the toy attached to your cunt.

“You wanted more, Princess, I’m giving you more.”

That condescending motherfuck-“DADDY!” You scream out as your second orgasm takes over your senses. This time, your knees gave out, and you fell flat against the bed.

“Oh, I fucked you that good baby?” He chuckles.

You can only moan in reply.

The new angle tightened on Eddie's cock, and he couldn’t hold off any longer.

“You’re going to take all this cum, baby; you’re going to let me pump you so full it will be dripping out of you for days. Your little belly is going to swell; you're going to carry my baby. Do you want that? Want me to fuck a baby into you?”

“YES,” you cry; his cock gets so good you can’t think about anything else than how Eddie made you feel. You wanted his cum so bad you clamp down on his cock again, and Eddie can’t take it.

Hot ropes of white seed are shooting into your cunt as Eddie continues to pump his cock deep into you, making sure he fills you.

Reluctantly, Eddie pulls out of you as his cock starts softening within you. All you can do is lay there as your body still tingles.

“Let me see you, pretty girl” Eddie takes your leg and flips your effortlessly so you’re on your back and spread open for him to see his hot cum leaking out of your used cunt onto the butt plug that’s still fully submerged in your ass.

“So fucking pretty” Eddie squeezed the fatty meat of your inner thigh before placing a kiss on your clit, making you jerk.

“Oh, she’s so sensitive,” he smirks before placing two more kisses on your pussy before sitting up to help clean you up.

“You okay, Sunshine?” He returned with a warm cloth to clean up the big mess he made of you.

“More than okay” you’re in heaven. You haven’t experienced sex like that before. It was fun, it was hot, it was tense, it was exciting, it was everything you needed.

“Good girl,” he grins as he places a gentle kiss on your lips. You couldn’t believe how good he was to you, and you moaned at the praise.

“Don’t tell me you’re ready to go again?” He chuckles.

“How could I not when you’re so sexy? You turn me on so bad” You roll on top of him, spreading your still-wet pussy over his soft bush and starting to grind down on his crotch.

“Fuck you can’t say things like that. Eddie sits up so he can kiss you.

“I think it’s your turn, Mr.Munson.” You reach over to your toys and click on the vibrator.

“You minx” he smacks your ass, and you get ready for round two.

tags: @edge-just-edge @skyline4446 @nailbatanddungeon @reidsbtch @snowflowersstars246 @eldermayfield @eddies-puppet @blue-slushy22 @birdysaturne @babyexpertlampskeleton @gri959 @starksbabie @bl00d-puppy @xxhellfirebunnyxx @amira0303 @ali-r3n @lavendermunson @fairykissesaresweet @minorlystuck13 @feral-pumpkin-energy @asimpforthe80s s @flawiette @munsoneightysixx @localemofreak @babybimbo777 @elegantkolalapaper @stayonmars @harringtonxkeery @hellfiremunsonn @eddiestans-blog @sp1dyb0y1008 @shadyhologrambanana @babygorewhore

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tyunniez · 4 months

Text

sugar

oc x bttm m reader // smut

" my, look at you~ " your eyes flickered up to gaze into ji woon's eyes. " xin hui made a real mess of you, huh? " the teasing tone in his voice made your tip stickier than it already was.

seeing you tied up, a vibrator shoved up your ass with your own underwear stuffed inside your mouth was certainly a sight to see.

he slowly approached you while loosening up his tie, a hungry look in his eyes.

a low moan escaped your mouth as he dragged his finger down your exposed cock, making sure to run his finger nice and slow to feel all the veins around it.

" i wonder how many times have you cum, yn? by the looks of it not that much hm.. " what he said was indeed true.

xin hui being the fucking sadist he is decided not to let you cum even once, ripping away that sweet sweet release as soon as you were nearing it.

" poor baby, don't worry i'll help you, okay? " ji woon grinned while slowly stroking your cock. a choked grunt muffled from your mouth, tears brimming your eyes as you could feel your release soon.

" ah-ah, not now though. let's see how long you could last, sugar. " ji woon ripped his hand away from your aching cock, a look of betrayal clear in your eye. since when did this bastard become a sadist too?!

ji woon ran his hand all over your thigh, purposely caressing your inner thigh to get a reaction out of you. meanwhile, his other hand toyed around with your hard nipple, mouthing and sucking on the other one.

" mmh yn.. come on, cum already... " he whined while sucking on your adam's apple. his hand that was roaming your thigh now held onto the vibrator, pushing it in and out of you slowly.

this caused your pupils to go wide. a loud muffled moan flew past your mouth as you tried to close your legs, which failed knowing that ji woon was literally between them.

he started slowly, dragging the silicone toy in and out of you. your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you try to process the amount of stimulation you are receiving.

ji woon however got impatient and immediately sped up with no warning whatsoever, shoving the toy inside your abused hole before pulling it out only to shove it back in again.

strings of moans and whines muffled in your mouth as you try to beg ji woon to slow down. he on the other hand only sped up, seemingly desperate to see you cum untouched.

you feel the coil in your stomach about to break as your thigh began shaking. " that's right, cum for me yeah? " ji woon whispered into your ear, trailing kisses down to your chest.

you shut your eyes as your cum shot out of your cock, loads after loads coming out seeing as if there was no end to it. you bucked your hip as a way to ride out your high, the orgasm itself so intense causing tears to come streaming down.

" look at you, cumming untouched. how cute~ " he teased while lapping up some of the cum that landed on your stomach which led to him sucking the one on your cock.

the sheer overstimulation made you almost pass out but not before a harsh slap to your thigh woke you up.

" hey now, we're not done yet! "

this is absolutely filthy my gawd. btw the two oc (ji woon n xin hui) are actually from a fic i made a long time ago. should i post it here lolz?

#tyunniez 🕷#tyunniez asks 💌#x male reader #bottom male reader #bttm male reader #male reader #uke male reader #male x male smut #amab reader

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minihotdog · 2 months

Text

Have You Seen My Boyfriend?

Summary: You see Simon in the mask for the first time

C/W: angst (?)

A/N: I've been wanting to write this fic for a while now and I didn't really know what to do with it BUT @celestialwhoree wrote this lovely fic right here and it lit a fire under my ass. I also don't think Simon would wear his mask outside of combat-active areas sooo I threw that out the window to make this work.

Word Count: 723

He didn’t even remember that he still had that damn balaclava on when they touched down on the runway. Months had gone by and eventually, as it always did, it began to feel like a second skin.

He never let you see him with it on either. Simon made sure to keep Ghost on the field and Simon at home. He’d watched countless men throughout his career take work home with them and the damage it left on everyone they touched. He wasn’t perfect. He had his own struggles in disconnecting from the adrenaline and danger, but he’d been meticulous so far.

Since you came into his life the balaclava stayed in his ready-to-go bag that you weren’t allowed to touch.

The bulk of the unit grabs their bags and heads towards the hangar as fast as they can, happy to be freed from the C-130 they’d been cramped into like sardines for hours. Their families wait for them, cheering as they get closer.

Simon knew you didn’t like crowds and messaged you to meet him at the compound instead, he’d instructed a private to let you inside the barrack’s common area to wait for him.

You were sitting on an ugly old brown couch fidgeting with your fingers. He’d been gone for months and your excitement to have him back home was mixing with the anxiety of being in this environment that didn’t feel right for you to be in. You wondered if he’d get in trouble for letting you be there.

At some point, you get on your feet and begin pacing away from the door in case they barge in to take you away for being in a restricted area unsupervised.

Simon detours to throw his bags in his office before heading towards the common area. His weapon and clips are long gone, turned into the armory waiting for his next embarkment. His vest is still snug on his frame, his skeleton-printed gloves still donned with months of sweat and grime soaked into the fabric, and his forgotten balaclava sticking to him absentmindedly.

You jump out of your skin in fear when the door swings open and spin around on your heels to meet your awaiting demise. Your nerves don’t subside when a giant man steps into the room. All the air suddenly gets sucked out.

He’s covered head to toe and the only thing your eyes can focus on is the skull print on his face. He closes the door behind him, his eyes not leaving yours.

You swallow harshly, trying to force words out. Or do anything to save yourself.

“Have you seen my boyfriend?” You squeak out. You watch the mask move over his features and you avoid his eyes at all costs. The overcast from the eyeholes makes them look like black holes.

“Y/n,” He breathes out while taking a step closer. You swear to yourself he almost sounds like your Simon but the alarm bells continue going off at the sight of him. You take a step back and in his exhausted state, it finally clicks. His eyes close and his eyebrows furrow in disbelief. He looks over you taking in your reluctance and the fear coursing through you.

Fuckin’ Hell

He reaches up slowly to not scare you. His fingers pull at the fabric at the top of his head slowly pulling the balaclava off to reveal his all-to-familiar face, his messy blond locs sticking out in every direction.

“Jesus, Simon!” You gasp, running to him and banging on his chest. “You scared the shit out of me! What the fuck!”

He wraps his arms around you, pinning you to his chest. You writhe in his arms trying to escape.

“I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean to.”

You look up into his sad chocolate brown eyes now freed from the darkness that hid them before. “I never wanted you to see that, doll. That isn’t me, I promise.” His voice comes out soft and full of regret.

He yanks his gloves off letting them fall to the ground so he can lace his fingers in your hair. He holds you against his chest, occasionally brushing his lips against your forehead.

Cats out of the bag.

He doesn’t know what to do now. What if this is the start of something he can’t prevent?

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley drabble

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willowbelle · 3 months

Text

Just Give In

new fic per request! ♡︎

❤︎ trafalgar law x fem reader ❤︎

༉‧₊˚✧ (nsfw, afab!reader, 18+ only) ༉‧₊˚✧

cw: established relationship, consensual somnophilia, begging, throat-fucking, slight degradation, praise, use of "good girl", sleepy sex, riding, cock-warming.

summary: law is an insomniac. law and reader have an established relationship & mutual agreement regarding somnophilia. reader sucks law off while he sleeps. law wakes up & sleepy sex ensues ♡︎

word count: ~3,000

tagging: @bby-deerling @risenwrites @strawheart-pirate @uchihabbynic @nina-ya @mandiemegatron @shamblespirate @eelnoise @maddddstuff

(only slightly proofread bc i need to go to sleep. ironic, right?)

Just Give In

A restful night’s sleep wasn’t a pleasure Law typcially found on his agenda.

Sleeping for more than four hours at a time was almost too indulgent for him; a taste that was rare, forbidden, almost.

He seldom found himself able to close his eyes long enough to feel fully rested, yet, he persisted, like he always did, working incessantly through the day, accompanied by nothing but the dark circles that tainted the skin beneath his eyes.

Despite the heaviness weighing upon his eyelids, sleep always eluded him like a distant desire; unrealistic, unattainable. His mind, always restless and relentless, simply refused to succumb to the peaceful embrace of sleep. He tries to rest, but to no avail, tossing and turning in the sheets with each gentle sway of the Polar Tang.

Today was different, though.

Your crew had recently partaken in a particularly difficult battle, and to say that Law was exhausted was quite the understatement. He was drained; completely depleted of everything within him.

He had stretched his abilities to their utmost limits, and now, he lay before you in a state unlike any you've ever witnessed — utterly spent and motionless.

Bepo is attempting to set Law up against some pillows on his bed, but of course, he’s protesting, weakly shooing the bear away.

“Enough, Bepo,” he rasps out, “I’m fine. I can take care of myself.”

“But Captainnn-” the mink whines, teetering back and forth from foot to foot, “You saved our lives. It’s the least I can do-”

“Saving your asses isn’t forgein to me, Bepo,” Law sighs, pain evident in his tone. He leans his head back against the plush fabric of the pillows, “All of you,” his eyes open again, steel irises scanning between you and your crewmates as you stand anxiously against the walls of your captain’s quarters, “Out.”

You knew better than to disobey Law, especially when he was in such a terrible state, so you swallowed your pride and followed your crewmates’ lead, letting out a heavy sigh before turning towards the door.

“Wait,” Law’s voice prompts you to turn your head, your wide eyes meeting his half-lidded ones as he musters a weak smirk, “Not you.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After some more convincing from his captain, Bepo finally relinquished supervision over Law, slowly making his way towards the door, trading places with you as you took his previous seat on the edge of the bed.

The polar bear takes a few more anxious glances over towards you two, “You’ve got him, right, y/n?” he persists.

You smile softly to reassure your distressed crewmate, “I’ve got him, Bepo.”

He smiles in response, letting out a relieved sigh, apprehension aided by your confidence.

———————————————————————————————

You wait until Bepo’s furry form disappears into the hallway before opening your mouth to speak, turning your head towards Law again.

“So, Law,” you begin, but as your eyes meet his condition, your voice catches in your throat, and the remainder of your sentence fades into a whisper.

He’s asleep.

Your heart feels funny in your chest at the sight of him, but you can’t quite place the feeling.

He’s stirring slightly, softly snoring, inked chest rising and falling with each breath.

He looks beautiful.

Even though the two have you had been dating for quite some time, you had never seen him asleep.

Your boyfriend was an insomniac in every sense of the word, and every night, as you both retired to your shared bed, you inevitably drifted off to sleep before him. Occasionally, you'd awaken throughout the night, only to find him absent from your side. You'd grope through the darkness, waiting for your eyes to acclimate to the dimness, until you could locate him. More often than not, he'd be bent over his desk, engrossed in jotting notes in his notebook or poring over the pages of a medical textbook.

This sight was unfamiliar, to the extent that witnessing him in such a seemingly normal human state verged on feeling forbidden.

Your mind begins to race, but you don’t try to catch it.

The two of you had engaged in somnophilia a few times throughout your relationship; you’d often awaken to the feeling of Law’s hot tongue lapping at your aching slit, slender fingers engulfed within your tight cunt.

You were always on the receiving end, of course, but you often found yourself fantasizing about what it would be like to take on the role of the giver.

And so, as you gazed upon Law sleeping soundly, his previous words reverberated in your mind,

“I doubt you ever will, but if you happen to catch me asleep sometime, you’re welcome to indulge.”

You could vividly remember his expression and the tone of his voice when he said it—confident, smug, almost, as if he were utterly convinced you'd never get the opprotunity.

Law was always busy; always working, always thinking, always disturbed.

He was pretty fickle when it came to sex, and you constantly remained unsure of what side of him you’d be encountering each time the two of you entered the bedroom.

But here he was; sleeping, peaceful, undisturbed.

And you just couldn’t fucking help yourself.

You release a trembling, apprehensive breath before surrendering to your desires.

Your hand finds itself on his strong thigh, but he stirs a bit, making you jump slightly.

However, to your contentment, he remains asleep, turning his head to the side, unconsciously giving you more access to his neck.

You bite your bottom lip before slowly sliding your hand up his leg.

You admire him like he’s a work of art in a museum; taking a mental picture of every dip and curve of his muscles, every line of black ink that decorates his tan skin, every indent of his abs, each hair on his chin, you worship it all.

And so, you persist, delicate hands continuing their silent work.

You slowly and carefully straddle his waist as your fingers begin to work at the buttons of his shirt. You peel the fabric from his body, your heart racing within your chest, its pounding reverberating in your ears, causing your head to feel flushed with heat.

Your hands slide up his toned abdomen, fingertips finding themselves tracing the intriquite lines of the ink adorning his skin.

You can’t help but let out a shaky, quiet moan, obsessed with the way his muscular torso looked cradled between your thighs.

In this moment, you are nothing but a devotee, tracing his form, limb by limb, each imperfection of his skin burning into your skull as if they were put there simply to be admired by you. His body was a masterpiece, one that you’d gladly study over and over again, obsessively, till you could recite his every feature in your head in perfect detail.

You carefully lean forward to place gentle kisses and love bites along his chest, down his stomach, taking precautionary glances up to his face to ensure he was still asleep.

His eyes are shut, but his breathing has changed slightly; it's more labored, now, coming out in quiet huffs as he slightly trembles beneath you.

You continue your gentle pursuit, rubbing your hands up and down his sides as you kiss along his happy trail, giggling softly to yourself at how the coarse hairs tickle your lips. Each touch is a prayer, each gaze a hymn, and you relish in the way the feeling of his warm skin seems to seep into your own.

Your hands tremble as you work at the button and zipper of his jeans, fearful that the noise will awaken him. It doesn’t, though, and you find satisfaction in your accomplishment, impressed by your own skill.

Now for the difficult part: pulling his pants down.

You cursed at Law in your head; although you had always found his love of skinny jeans sexy, you now found it rather…inconvenient.

You anxiously bite at the tender flesh on your inner cheek as you loop your fingers around his waistband, taking a deep breath in before abandoning all caution and pulling his jeans down.

He stirs, as expected, but doesn’t awaken, simply letting out a low groan and screwing his eyes shut tighter.

Your eyes widen at the sight of him in nothing but his underwear; to your surprise, he’s hard, and the realization makes your cheeks flush with heat.

You lean down, warm breath meeting his crotch, peppering his clothed cock with gentle kisses.

His head rolls back and his back arches a bit, an unconscious moan erupting from within his chest. The abrupt noise halts you in your steps, prompting a swift glance back at your sleeping boyfriend. You gaze at him in awe as he doesn’t awaken, just twitches beneath your touch.

You bite the waistband of his boxers, clenching the fabric between your teeth as you pull them down, finally freeing his twitching, needy cock.

The sight makes you inhale sharply, breath caught in your throat as you take in the unfamiliar sight of Trafalgar Law fully exposed before you; naked, vulnerable.

You inch forwards, closing your eyes before opening your mouth and sliding your hot tongue along his thick shaft. Your tongue leaves a stripe of glistening saliva in its wake, the substance lewdly decorating your boyfriend’s pulsing cock.

“Mmmggf,” Law groans at this, and his hands ball into fists at his sides, gripping the sheets.

Your feel your core tighten at the sound, heat flooding your veins and collecting in your aching sex. You persist, lust at the forefront of your brain, taking his weeping tip into your soft, warm mouth. You hum around his head, delighted at the feeling of him filling your mouth.

He winces, back arching off the mattress as his eyes screw shut tighter, unconsciously reaching down to grab at your hair.

You circle your tongue around his tip a few times before slowly beginning to bob your head up and down, taking his shaft down your tight throat, captivated by the feeling of his thick vein pulsing against your tongue.

“M-mmm!” Law whines weakly in his sleep, trembling beneath you, completely at mercy to you and your wicked mouth.

You hollow your cheeks, sucking him in harder, moving your head up and down more passionately now, determined to make him erupt down your throat.

The unmistakable sounds of gagging and slobbering fill the room, and your cunt twitches at the lewdness of the situation, prompting you to squeeze your thighs together for any sort of stimulation.

Suddenly, you feel the familiar sensation of fingers yanking on your strands, making you tilt your gaze upwards, your captain’s cock still eveloped within your mouth as you anxiously look up at him.

Your eyes widen as they meet the state of him; he’s awake, eyes half-lidded and blown with lust as he gazes down at you. His face is red and flustered, dark strands of hair sticking to his forehead, aided by his sweat. His face looks unlike how you’d ever seen it before, and it feels like his stare is burning holes into your face.

He looks entirely and utterly needy.

“Don’t. Fucking. Stop.” he groans breathlessly, teeth clenched, each word punctuated like a growl; desperate.

But before you can even think about responding, he’s manuvered your hair into a ponytail within his grip before thrusting his hips upwards into your mouth, throat-fucking you mercilessly.

“Nghh,” he groans, throwing his head back against the pillows as he continues to relentlessly thrust his hips, making you whimper and gag around his length.

“You wanted it,” he groans, his voice tinged with a smug tone, “Now take it.”

“M-mm!” you whimper around his shaft as he continues to abuse your throat, earning a low, guttural groan from within his chest,

“Good girl, that’s it,” he praises, “Take that cock.”

The grip he has on your strands is unwavering as he continues to fuck your mouth, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat with each pass, making you gag, tears spilling from your eyes.

His body grows tense and you know he’s getting close, his thrusts becoming sloppy and unsynchronized.

His pelvis continuously bumps against your face as he continues, the hair from his happy trail tickling your nose.

“F-Fuckkk-” he rasps out, body shuddering beneath you as he unapologetically bursts down your throat, hot ropes of his semen tainting your esophagus and inner cheeks.

You cough, pulling off him, tears spilling down your flushed cheeks.

You gaze at up him, eyes teary and wide, fearful that he was angry at you for disturbing his sleep.

He’s breathing heavily, tattooed chest rising and falling frantically. His face is flushed pink and sweaty, fucked-out. He lets out a shaky breath before speaking,

“Come on, y/n,” he smirks, still attempting to catch his breath, “Don’t tell me you can’t finish what you started.”

His persistence and brashness causes your core to tighten once more, heat rushing through your body, making your limbs tingle.

His words command you like puppet stings, your obedience unwavering as you straddle him once again.

You take a moment to remove your clothes before seating your bare pussy against his throbbing, desperate cock.

In a final attempt to tease him, you begin to rock your hips, grinding your leaking slit against his impressive length.

“Enough,” he groans impatiently, “Show me what you really want, y/n.”

And so, you surrender to your longing, allowing it to take control as you grab ahold of Law’s cock, positioning him at your entrance before slowly sinking down.

You hiss at the sting, the sensation painful but not unfamiliar. The two of you moan in sync as you continue to lower yourself, the feeling of his big cock stuffing you full was almost too much for either of you.

You want to tease him more; slow down, pull off, anything to give you some control back, but he’s desperate, and you’re no better. You instantaneously give in to your desires, sinking down all the way and leaning down to kiss him as his cock is now fully engulfed within you. His lips meet yours with such urgency and desperation it makes your head spin. He groans weakly into your mouth, “Come on, baby,” his voice is strained, a rare inflection that you knew was for you only, “Move for me-”

You comply, giving in to his command and beginning your dirty work, slowly starting to rock your hips back and forth, delicious moans erupting from the mouth of the trembling man beneath you.

“F-Fuck,” he slurs, voice raspy, “more,” he groans, grasping at your hips.

You begin to bounce on his cock, grounding yourself by resting your hands on his strong chest. You let let your head roll back, becoming absorbed in the feeling of Law’s impressive cock sliding in and out of you, pulsing against your tight walls.

“You’re so damn tight,” he groans through clenched teeth, “That pussy’s so fucking good to me.”

His praise only makes you work harder, grinding you hips back and forth to gain some friction against your aching clit as you continue to bounce up and down, your skillful hips and tight cunt earning more weary moans from him.

He reaches up to grasp at your tits, molding them in his strong hands and pinching at your erect nipples, making you squeak.

“Mm-mm, Lawww-” you whine wearily, heat racing through your veins as your head begins to grow tingly.

Your legs begin to tremble as you continue to ride him, and he notices you losing momentum.

“Here, baby,” he chuckles softly in between groans, “I’ve got you.”

Law grabs your hips and holds you up, opting to thrust into you from below, making you squeal at the new sensation.

He’s still exhausted, of course, so his thrusts are slow and sleepy, but unforgiving nonetheless.

Your tight walls continue to restrict and twitch around his aching cock, and each time his tip lazily brushes against your cervix, you both feel yourselves coming undone.

“Fuck," he rasps out, “Not gonna last long.”

Law continues to weakly thrust into you, and the sounds of wet squelching and skin-hitting-skin fill the room.

Your breaths are labored and hot as you kiss again, moaning wearily into one another’s mouths.

You’re both close, desperately chasing your impending orgasms.

“L-Law-” you cry out shakily into his mouth, a warm, tingling sensation enveloping your body as you cum, gushing around his cock as you collapse onto his chest.

“Fuck, y/n,” he grits his teeth, mustering a few more weak thrusts and groaning loudly before finally spilling his hot seed into you.

“Fuck, I love you.” he gazes into your eyes, cradling your head in his strong hand and kissing the top of it before letting his head fall back down to the pillows.

He lets out one final sigh before giving in to his body’s needs, stiffening beneath you and closing his eyes, allowing sleep to take him once again.

You offer a gentle smile and press a tender kiss to his cheek before closing your own eyes, your body tensing as it prepares itself for sleep.

“I love you, too, Law,” you murmur softly, following your captain's lead and slowly drifting off to sleep.

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