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#IT’S KINDA HOT I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO TELL YOU-
sescoups · 1 day
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favorite coworker - choi vernon
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masterlist
word count: ~5.3k (i'm so sorry)
summary: vernon is your favorite. he just gets you. of course you can't resist him - not that you would ever want to.
a/n: this is definitely NOT proofread, and i'm sorry. idk i just have the fattest crush on vernon, honestly i can't be held accountable
18+, MDNI!!! warnings under the cut <3
warnings: oral (m. receiving), making out, creepy old man (he doesn't do anything, he's just a creep), mention of vomit, lmk if i missed anything! <3
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“Wait so hang on, you mean to tell me you’ve never what..? Gone down on a guy?”
“Oh yell it out, why don’t you,” you groan, smacking your forehead into the counter. Thank fuck you just cleaned it.
Vernon is your coworker at the record store in the middle of the city. He’s super chill, does what he’s supposed to but doesn’t stress out or get pissy if you’re having a bad day and work slowly. He’s great. He’s just… a bit unaware of his surroundings, a lot of the time. You’re lucky only two people are in the store at the moment, or you would have simply passed away.
“Sorry, sorry,” he says, holding up his hands in a gesture of peace. “I just kinda can’t believe it? I mean, you’ve had sex for sure, right?”
“Yes, Vernon.” You roll your eyes and glare at an old man who is shamelessly looking you up and down. “I’ve had sex before. Just not a lot, I guess. And why is it so hard to believe?”
Had he been looking at your face, your raised eyebrow might have tipped him off to the fact that he should drop the topic and back off. Unfortunately, in typical Vernon fashion, he was doodling nonsense on a notepad, so he missed it completely.
“Well I mean, you’re hot,” he said before finally looking up at you. He started tapping his pen against the counter, leaning his weight on one hand against the counter. “You’re also pretty open about your life in general, so I just figured two plus two equals one, you know.”
“What the fu- Vernon. Think about what you just said.”
“Oh fuck. Yeah I deserved to fail math in high school.”
You burst into laughter at his words. This is exactly why you love Vernon, and why he’s your favorite coworker. You’re laughing so hard you barely manage to greet the new customer who just entered the store. Your coworker is smiling, satisfied with his ability to make you laugh.
The old man who is still eyeing you, now with extra focus on your boobs, comes up to the register just as you manage to sober up from your laughing fit. You clear your throat and turn to face him, giving him a tiny smile in the spirit of customer service. Apparently a mistake.
“Excuse me, sweetheart,” he starts, running his tongue over his front teeth in what you suspect is supposed to be a seduction attempt. “Would you mind maybe showing me some of the records you have in the back?”
The smile leaves your face immediately, and you’re about to absolutely emaciate him when Vernon cuts in to make sure you do not lose your job over some smarmy geezer.
“She cannot, sir. It’s store policy. Soz.”
You hold your snort in, but barely. The old man huffs and glares at the man next to you, crossing his arms over his chest. Honestly, you’re curious at this point. You’ve never seen Vernon handle confrontation - again, very chill dude - but you also know he is very protective over his friends.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” the old man says with an eye roll. “I was talking to the pretty young lady.”
His smile sends a shiver down your spine, and you take a deep breath. The old man watches your boobs rise and fall. Seriously, fuck this guy. You force the customer service smile back on your face because you actually really like and need this job, and decide this sack of shit isn’t worth it.
“He’s right, sir. It’s against store policy, and I’m currently on register duty. If there is a specific record you wish to see, we can look it up in the system.”
“I’ll keep looking for a while… in case you change your mind.”
The way he winks at you makes your blood boil, and it’s a wonder your teeth don’t crack from the pressure of your jaw. The man walks away, and so does Vernon. He can’t really kick the guy out unless he does something physical, so you don’t know what he’s trying to do. Soon, though, your confusion melts into amusement and glee as you watch your coworker follow the man around the store, loudly dissing his music taste whenever he picks up a record. He keeps walking just a little bit too close for comfort, and after about three minutes, the man gives up.
You take huge pleasure in the way the man skulks out, hands in his pockets and back hunched over as if he’s trying to get away from something - or someone. Returning to the register, Vernon grins to himself and resumes his doodling without a word. You shake your head in amazement before going to help the other two customers in the store.
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The next time you’re working with Vernon, you have the closing shift. Usually only one person is supposed to stay back after closing and clean up, but you just received a large shipment of vinyls that need to be sorted and placed into protective sleeves, so the two of you are working overtime together.
It’s a pretty slow shift, and the two of you pass the time by playing music for one another and guessing the artist and the title. You’re much better at it than he is, but only because you’re good at memorizing things; he has a far more varied music taste than you, and would easily have won had he remembered more than two song names and five artists. As per the terms of the game, the loser has to go out to get the dinner you preordered from a restaurant down the street. It’s not far, but it’s raining, so you’re glad to be exempt.
While your colleague is gone, you close out the register and sweep the floor so you only have the vinyl sorting left after you’ve eaten. The break room smells like wet dog and Doritos, so you bring two chairs out together with the foldable table that you’re going to use to sort the vinyls. Since no one is in the store anyway, you can people watch through the windows while you eat.
Vernon comes back in just as you finish setting up, soaking wet from the pouring rain. You coo at him when he shivers, and he shoots you a playful glare. He ends up holding his glare for all of two seconds before a wide smile stretches across his face.
“I left an extra shirt here at some point, do you think it smells like teenage boy?”
You escape the break room with two plates and some utensils in hand, laughing at his question and probably unfortunate fate.
“Because of the proximity to the break room? Probably. That shit is unavoidable.”
He grimaces before taking his jacket off, hanging it on a hook behind the register. He disappears to change while you plate the food, humming to yourself. You try not to think about how he’s probably half naked right now, and turn your attention to the fact that he most likely will smell atrocious to keep your head on straight.
You do love Vernon. He’s a great coworker, obviously, and he’s a great friend too, but that’s not really the full extent of it. You’ve been battling your crush on him for months now, because it’s pretty clear that he isn’t interested in you. Besides, if you ever did date, things would get awkward at work if you broke up. No, he is one of those people who should stay firmly at arm’s length. Unfortunately.
Your thoughts are interrupted by a loud bang, making you jump a good foot in the air.
“What the fuck, Nonnie?”
“Sorry,” he grimaces, checking that the door he managed to fling directly into the wall hadn’t done any damage. “I tripped.”
“Only you, Vern,” you sigh. “Well, food is ready to go. Let’s eat!”
The meal, consisting of some kimchi jjigae, rice and side salad, passes by in relative silence. You occasionally hum in content, and Vernon often slurps his jjigae really loudly which prompts you to giggle. He always looks glad to have amused you, and you need to look away often in order to control your emotions.
“Dude,” he groans after his third serving, “I’m so fucking full.”
“I’m not the one who got an order for five people, genius,” you groan back, your own stomach feeling like a water balloon. “So good though.”
“So good,” he nods earnestly.
You can’t stand to look at him like this; you need something to do with your hands. So you stand up and stretch, which actually does help the food settle in your stomach a bit. Your hair, tied in a bun to avoid getting any food in it, comes down to release some of the pressure on your scalp, and then you feel ready to get started.
“Take all the time you need, man, but I’m gonna start on the first box. I want to get home before dawn, if I can.”
He flashes you a thumbs up and slumps against the table to enter into a food coma. You scoff at him and shake your head before clearing the dishes from the table. Thank God you have a dishwasher in the break room.
You bring out the first box and start sorting it, referencing the list you have as you go to take inventory. It’s repetitive work, but it’s kind of soothing, too. You do your best to make the plastic of the vinyl coverings crinkle as little as possible, wanting Vernon to rest for as long as he needs to. Three servings of kimchi jjigae would make anyone drowsy.
The first sign that he is still alive comes ten minutes later when he starts drumming a random rhythm on the table. You snort when you recognize the rhythm, pausing with a vinyl halfway into its covering.
“You can’t drum the melody to Dun Dun Dance, Vernon.”
“I can do whatever I want,” he protests weakly, cheek still pressed firmly against the table surface. “But nicely done. What about this one?” He drums out another rhythm, and now that you know it’s a melody he’s following, you recognize it quicker.
“That’s Candy by H.O.T.”
“Nice.”
“You gonna work or rest, bud?”
Vernon whines at your words and rolls his head to rest his forehead against the table instead. You wait patiently as he gathers the strength to sit up properly and kick a box of vinyls over to him when he seems more alive.
“Life isn’t fair,” he pouts, “I just did so much work eating all that food, and now I gotta do more?”
“It’s like that,” you agree absentmindedly, marking off a stack of vinyls on your list. “Can you turn on some music, please? The silence is creepy.”
He nods and connects his phone to the store speakers, choosing the playlist the two of you created together on a similar night of overtime. After that, the two of you slip into a rhythm together, unpacking vinyls, checking the list, and then putting them into a protective sleeve. It’s mostly silent aside from the music, and sometimes Vernon drums along to the beat on the table, but it’s comfortable. You kind of don’t mind spending a few hours like this.
When you’re two thirds through the stack of boxes, you both decide to take a break. Your saint of a colleague brews some coffee, and you hop onto the checkout counter to browse through your phone while your brain cells take a well-deserved rest.
“Bless you,” you say as you accept a mug full of coffee. “We’re making pretty good time today, eh?”
“Yeah,” he agrees, taking a sip and wincing at the scalding temperature. “We haven’t really been talking, so.”
“That jjigae really took you out, huh?”
“Oh yeah.”
You grin at him and blow gently over your coffee. It’s still too hot to drink, as evidenced by the steam rising from it, but the smell alone is kind of waking you up. Vernon grabs your attention by clearing his throat gently, and you turn to look at him. He’s fidgeting a bit with a pen left on the counter close to your thigh.
“I, uh… I wanted to say I’m sorry about that dude the other day. The creepy one. I probably should have kicked him out, but I didn’t know if I could…”
Your heart melted a little in your chest. It was obvious he had been carrying this around with him, mulling it over and worrying about it. About you. It was endearing, and dangerous for your heart. You bit your lip and placed your coffee mug on the counter next to you.
“It’s okay,” you say earnestly. “He sucked, and I was uncomfortable, but you still made him leave. I didn’t feel like I was in danger or anything, so don’t worry about it.”
“I just feel like it’s partially my fault, for kind of yelling about the fact that you’ve never sucked a dick before.” You’re incredibly grateful that you weren’t drinking coffee at that moment, because you definitely would have spat it out all over the floor. His bluntness never ceased to surprise you. It was unbearably adorable. “I should be more aware of my surroundings, especially when talking about something sensitive like that.”
“Well,” you start, pausing thoughtfully. “I don’t really think that man would have acted differently either way, to be honest with you. Men like that are just… like that. I also don’t really care who knows I’ve never given a blowjob before. It doesn’t matter, at the end of the day. I haven’t done it because I haven’t slept with anyone who’s dick I wanted to suck, and that’s all. I just wish I knew how sometimes, you know?”
He shuffles his weight around at your words, shifting from foot to foot. He’s still fumbling with the pen on the counter, but now his fingers are clumsier than usual. You glance up at his face only to find him staring into empty space in front of him. You figure you made him uncomfortable with your oversharing.
“Sorry. That was TMI.”
“No,” he answers quickly. “We share everything. I told you when I threw up on Seungkwan’s lap and cried because I felt bad, didn’t I?” You smile at the reminder and nod. He finally meets your eyes again. “I was just thinking, you know.”
“What about?”
Vernon’s mind is the most fascinating thing to you. The way he thinks is so out of the box and different, and so beautiful. He has shown you the lyrics he writes for his friend Jihoon sometimes, and they’re so poetic you find yourself turning them over in your mind for days afterward. And the best part about it is that he always answers you when you ask what’s going on inside his head. He grants you access to his thoughts and feelings, and it’s the greatest gift you’ve ever received.
“Well. I don’t know if this is going to come off as creepy or not,” he warns, “but I was thinking like… Maybe you should just get it over with.”
“Get what over with?” Your eyebrow rises as you ask the question, and his furrow in response.
“I just mean that you could know how to give a good blowjob, if you wanted to. You could just… pick someone to sleep with. And ask them to teach you. You know?”
“Nonnie,” you start, and your bewildered tone makes him shrink a little. “You really believe the best of people, don’t you?”
“Well- I mean yes, but I didn't mean you should just sleep with anyone. You could just pick someone you already know.”
His words give you pause. You have plenty of friends in possession of a penis, but the thought of sleeping with most of them feels kinda gross. The one exception is… Well, Vernon. And you sincerely doubt that he is offering himself up. So you do what you always do and make a joke to force your mind away from the thought of sucking on your friend’s dick until he cums for you.
“What, are you offering?”
“I mean, yeah,” he shrugs.
You stop breathing. He is actually, genuinely offering to teach you how to suck dick. More specifically, his dick. The one that has been the star of many of your more illicit fantasies. You want to say yes so badly, want to finally get the experience of being something more to him, but you also don’t want to get ahead of yourself. But…
The room is silent while you’re thinking. You feel his eyes on the side of your face, feel the way he’s cataloging every emotion that overtakes your features, and you swallow harshly. Your heart is beating out of your chest and your hands are shaking, and your brain is running a mile a minute with no end in sight.
Then Vernon places his hand on your thigh. His touch is warm but light, ready to pull away as soon as you want him to, but it’s enough to bring your soul back into your body and get a grasp on your thoughts and feelings. You bite your lower lip and breathe in deeply before letting it go. Yeah, you’re doing this.
“I uh, I’m going to need some guidance,” you say, and you almost miss the way your friend’s eyes widen at your words.
“O-Of course. And if you want to stop at any time, just like, tell me, yeah?”
You smile at the comfort his words bring you. “Yeah.”
There is silence once again, but this one is heavy with a different kind of tension. You both know what’s happening, but you don’t know what your next move should be. Technically, you should be working and saving any… other activities for your own free time, but you don’t think waiting is something you’re capable of at this point.
He is the one to make the first move, placing his half-empty mug on the counter and placing himself between your legs. His hands find a place on your waist, bunching the fabric of your shirt slightly. Sitting on the counter means you’re a little bit taller than he is, but you really don’t mind it. He holds your gaze for a few seconds before his left hand lifts to cup your face.
“Are you okay with kissing?” His voice is a bit deeper than normal, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t make heat pool between your legs. “I understand if not, but-”
You interrupt him with a gentle kiss. His lips are pillowy against yours, smooth and plump. You thank your past self for bullying him into using chapstick, because you can honestly say that this might be your favorite kiss ever.
Vernon’s hand moves from your jaw to rake through your hair, and you moan a little when his fingers catch a little in the back. He responds by stepping even closer to you and sliding his entire arm around your back, your chest pressing against his deliciously. The only thought going through your mind is the fact that you are kissing your favorite coworker, and how you really, really want to bury his cock in your throat.
He chases after you when you pull away slightly to catch your breath, and you don’t even mind that the oxygen deprivation is making you dizzy. You slump against him a little when he tugs on your hair again, and you move to return the favor. As soon as you pull on the hair at the back of his neck, he forces himself to pull away and gulp down some air.
His eyes are glazed over, his lips slick with a mix of your and his saliva, and his chest is rising and falling where it’s pressed against yours. It's painfully attractive. He rasps out a quiet groan and leans his forehead against yours. You love the feeling of his harsh breaths hitting your face and answer back with your own.
You feel like you’re in a bubble, because the world around you feels muted and time feels like it has stopped moving. You wouldn’t be surprised if the earth had stopped spinning.
“Sorry,” he breathes. He buries his face in the crook of your neck and inhales your scent. “I just really wanted to do that.”
“Stop apologizing,” you respond, bringing your hand onto his head to scratch at his scalp. “I liked it. Maybe a bit too much.”
Your words bring a whine out of Vernon, and he squeezes you tighter. You’re still on top of the counter, but you can feel his bulge against the inside of your thigh. It twitches against you every time you tug at the ends of his hair, and it makes you smile.
One of your hands snakes down and cups him through his jeans. He reacts strongly despite the thick material separating you. His willingness to show you how good you make him feel make you fall for him all over again. As if he wasn’t already perfect enough.
“Y/N,” he gulps when you move your hand against him, “we’re taking this at your pace, and I can go as slowly as you want to, but I think I might go insane if I don’t get these pants off.”
You giggle breathlessly as you pull away from him, and he forces himself to take a step back from you. You lean back on your hands, your knees still spread from where he was standing previously. He’s distracted for a few seconds before he finally remembers to unbutton his jeans and tugs them down his legs.
The bulge had been apparent through the jeans, but you can truly tell how hard he is when they come off. The way he twitches in his boxers is so obvious you almost feel bad for him. You decide it’s time you follow through and receive your lesson.
You hop off the counter and slide onto your knees in front of him. It’s unfair how attractive he is even from this angle, you think, and slide your hands up his thighs. You’ve given handjobs before, so it’s not exactly your first time touching a dick, but the goal is different now. This time, your hands are just the warmup and not the main event. You’re just hoping you can bring him some sort of pleasure in spite of your inexperience.
“Tell me how to start,” you whisper up at him. He blinks a few times at the sight of you before sucking in a deep breath.
“Yeah,” he rasps. His throat is already dry with anticipation. “I uh, I mean everyone is different when it comes to this stuff, so uh-”
“Just teach me what you like, Nonnie.” Your hands are massaging his thighs, nails digging into his skin every now and then. Whenever they do, you can feel him shudder.
“O-Oh, okay,” he breathes, sounding broken already. “I prefer skipping the handjob first, I guess. I really l-like the feeling of licking, especially at the tip, and uh-” He is becoming redder by the second. “One step at a time. Uhm, start by removing my boxers.”
You nod obediently and slide your hands up to his lower tummy, watching the expressions of pleasure as they take over his face. You assume you will never get to do this again, so you do your best to burn it all into your mind for later use on lonely nights spent with your vibrator. He shudders again when your nails scratch his skin lightly. Your fingers curl around the hem of his underwear and tug.
His cock is beautiful. It’s pretty long, curving slightly towards his stomach, and the tip of it is a perfect shade of peach. Your mouth waters at the thought of getting to taste it, and you eye the drop of precum spilling from the tip. You gently shuffle closer, but he stops you.
“Sorry, you’re fine, I just need something to lean against,” he explains when you look at him in fear of having done something wrong. He maneuvers you both so that he’s leaning against the counter you were sitting on not five minutes ago, and you’re in front of him.
“What now, Nonnie?” you ask, his eyes shutting and chest expanding to accommodate a deep breath.
“You should probably just uh, stroke me a few times first. Then uhm, then you can do whatever you want.” You blink at him a few times, trying to indicate that he’s supposed to be teaching you how to do this. For once, he gets the hint. “Like I said, I uh, like licking. When you take me in you just have to make sure not to like, bite me. Other than that, you can take it at your own speed and depth - for your comfort, of course, but I’m also not picky.”
You admire the flush decorating his cheeks and neck. He looks so good like this, towering over you and looking at you like you hold the answer to his ultimate pleasure. You try to convince yourself that you do, that you will be able to listen and follow his guidance well enough that this will feel good for him. You decide that you will.
Raising your right hand, you grip him tightly in your fist. It makes him suck in a breath, and you feel the muscles in his thighs tense up. You pump him a few times, going slow and using his precum as lube. It’s not enough, of course, but you will move on soon.
“Fuck…” he heaves, leaning back onto the counter even more. He looks into your eyes and swears again. “Please, sweetheart, as soon as you’re ready, I-I want-”
You cut him off by pressing your tongue against the head of his dick. The flavor is salty and a little bit bitter, but it tastes like heaven. Your eyes briefly slip closed as you continue kitten-licking at his slit, and he lets out a winy moan. You open your eyes and look at him, only to find him with his head tilted back to look at the ceiling.
“How is this?” you pause to ask, continuing before he’s had time to answer.
“Good, baby,” Vernon answers through his labored breathing. “So, so good. Keep going, you’re doing great.”
The praise bolsters your confidence, and you give a long lick from his base to his tip. The motion makes him moan again, so you repeat it a few more times. In no time at all, his cock is covered in a mixture of your saliva and his own precum. You decide it’s time to try and take him in your mouth - both because you’ve teased him enough, but you’re also too impatient to wait anymore.
His tip breaches the heat of your mouth , and you find you have to open your jaw quite a bit to accommodate him. A punched out groan leaves him, and one of his hands comes down to tangle in your hair. When a strand of it falls in front of your face, he gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail at the back of your head.
You love the weight of him on your tongue, and dare to sink down a bit lower. He hits the top of your mouth. You gag around him, and he gently pulls you off of him to check on you.
“You okay? You don’t have to keep going,” he reminds you. It only serves to make you more determined to make him cum down the back of your throat.
“What can I do better?” you ask while stroking him in your hand. You still want to improve.
“Honestly?” he wheezes, his hips jumping of their own accord. “You’re doing great.” You glare a bit at him, and he smiles down at you apologetically. “Sorry. But you are doing great. Maybe try sucking a bit more? Not just placing me in your mouth.”
You nod and sink right back down on him. His noises of pleasure are never-ending, and they only increase in volume as well as frequency once you properly suck around him. You bob up and down on him, his hand clenching in your hair as he’s doing his best not to fuck your throat. You’re making it pretty hard.
“Please, baby, I’m gonna fucking- Where do you want me to cum?”
His voice is hoarse and strained, and his grip on your hair has grown so tight it’s stinging your scalp. You savor the pain and rub your thighs together, mewling around him. You grip his ass and push deeper to signal for him to cum in your mouth, and it’s not a second too soon because he immediately spills his seed into you.
Vernon cums so much that some spills out onto your chin, but you diligently swallow what you can. He tries to keep his eyes on you, but his vision quite literally whites out as he reaches his high, so his eyes screw shut without his permission. You, on the other hand, couldn’t tear your gaze from him if you tried. He’s beautiful when he cums, his eyebrows scrunched in what almost looks like pain and his jaw slack in awe. His thighs tremble, and you’re glad he’s leaning against the counter so he doesn’t collapse onto the floor.
“Fuck, how are you so good at this,” he heaves out when his vision returns. You just smirk up at him, some of his cum still covering your chin and lips.
“I had a good teacher,” you tease back. Your voice is raspy after bobbing on his cock, and he finds it painfully attractive.
He notices the way you clench your thighs together and realizes you’re still on the floor. He’s quick to bend down and help you to your feet. As soon as you’re in front of him, he’s kissing you. He doesn’t care about the cum transferring from your chin to his, nor the fact that his softening dick is still out in the open; all he can think about is that he wants to pay you back for what you just did for him.
“Nonnie,” you breathe between kisses, and instead of pulling away it makes him kiss you harder, faster, deeper. He loves when you call him that. He reluctantly pulls away when you push gently against his chest, though. “We should finish the-”
“I need to eat you out, baby. Please, please let me.” His interruption surprises you, and so does his suggestion. He must see your confusion, because he quickly clears things up for you. “I want to, because I like you so much. I promise to ask you to be my girlfriend after this, but please, let me eat you out first.”
“Okay, but Nonnie-” you say, but he interrupts you with a passionate kiss as he mumbles thanks against your lips. “Nonnie.” He sighs and pulls away, resting his forehead against yours. He closes his eyes to stop himself from jumping you again, and you smile. “I’ll say yes right now. I want to be your girlfriend. Is that okay?”
He kisses you so deeply you lose track of where he starts and you end, but you’re just so glad to be kissing him again you probably couldn’t have figured it out anyway. You don’t talk much more that evening, and you definitely don’t get home before midnight, but at least you go home and fall into bed together. Maybe his inattentiveness was a blessing, after all.
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masterlist
a/n: don't forget to like and reblog if you enjoyed this post! <3
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azzibuckets · 2 days
Text
Paper Rings [Part 10/10 | Paige Bueckers]
paige bueckers x fem!reader
summary: you and paige find your way back to each other and it’s better than you could’ve even imagined
a/n: this is the last and final part of paper rings!! if you’re still here thank you sm for reading, it genuinely means so much
word count: 1k
masterlist w/ all parts
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“Leave my girl alone.” The entire team laughed, and Paige pulled you closer to her.
“I swear, she was so angsty for you that it was borderline pathetic. Every day she’d accidentally walk by the pool deck and watch your games.”
Paige whined, burying her head into your neck as her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. You giggled, finding the entire thing hilarious. “Don’t listen to them,” Paige begged under her breath.
“Why? You’re so fucking adorable P.” You smoothed out her hair as you shot a quick wink of approval to KK, who nodded at you with a smirk on her face. “Besides, I already knew you came to watch my games.”
The blonde’s head shot up, and she looked at you suspiciously. “How? I thought I was so smooth!”
“You were! I never even noticed.” You fixed the collar of her shirt. “Until one of my friend’s moms came and mentioned you. Said you would tell everyone how amazing I was.” You batted your eyelashes at Paige, and her face turned an even brighter shade of red.
“Why is everyone out for me?” Paige groaned. You only laughed in response, pressing a quick kiss to her hairline.
When conversation waned and the team started scattering, Paige pulled you aside. “Can we get out of here?” she whispered. “I love the girls but I want you jus’ to myself now.” You blushed and nodded, following her out of Nika’s hotel room.
You guys walked along the quiet hall of the hotel in silence. You peeked at Paige, who seemed deep in thought. “Penny for your thoughts?” you asked, nudging her pinky with your own.
Paige interlaced her fingers among yours. “Nothing,” she said, a small smile on her face. “Just thinking about how happy I am with you.”
You tried to fight back a grin. “You’re so in love with me,” you joked, swinging your hands.
Paige stopped, turning to face you. “I am,” she said quietly, her eyes searching yours. Your heart throbbed at the sight in front of you. The soft look in Paige’s eyes combined with the slight pout of her lips was enough to make your knees weak.
“You know just how to make the girls swoon,” you teased, pushing her chest lightly.
“You’re the only girl I wanna swoon,” Paige breathed, pulling you in. She kissed your forehead, then your eyelids, making her way down to the slant of your cheekbones and then the tip of your nose.
“Paige,” you groaned when she kissed the corner of your mouth, dodging you when you tried to connect your lips.
“What?” she asked innocently.
You glared at her. “Kiss me.”
She chuckled, placing a long kiss on your mouth. You savored the feeling of her pillowy lips, the dampness of her tongue, the little moans escaping her mouth. Her teeth tugged on your bottom lip, making you shiver.
“Yes, officer, I see two young women engaging in a very scandalous and salacious affair in public, in sight for young and innocent children to see and be corrupted by.”
Paige huffed in annoyance when you pulled away to flip off Aubrey and Aaliyah, both of them laughing like coyotes. “You guys have a bedroom!” Aubrey yelled. “Use it!”
You rolled your eyes, but tugged towards Paige towards your room. “I feel kinda gross,” you said, taking off your shoes in the doorway. “I’m gonna take a shower.”
“A shower sounds like a great idea,” Paige grinned, following you into the bathroom. “Can we?” She looked at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes.
“You don’t have to beg,” you chuckled. “I would love to take a shower with my sexy, beautiful, amazing girlfriend.”
Paige’s eyes brightened at the last word. “I could get used to that,” she remarked, starting to take off her jacket.
The water was hot, and you relaxed under the pressure of the water streaming out from the shower head. Paige admired you for a second, your jaw tilted upward and your eyes closed as you basked in the warmth, water droplets sliding sensually down your hair and your jaw and your neck. When you opened your eyes, she stepped towards you. “You’re so gorgeous,” she husked before kissing you slowly.
This was the most intimate you’d ever been with Paige, you thought. Sex was nice, you thought, mind blowing with Paige, even. But somehow, this shower was the least sexual thing you’d ever done, and the feeling was unbeaten - Paige gently rubbing shampoo into your hair as she pressed kisses on your shoulders, Paige’s hands leisurely exploring your body as she spread soap over your skin, Pauge holding you as you both stood under the water, your cheek resting on her shoulder and her nose buried in your hair.
When you stepped out of the shower, Paige wrapped a towel around your hair, messily scrunching it up as you giggled. She wrapped a second towel around your body, patting you dry. “Do you wanna do my skincare for me?” you asked, and Paige nodded enthusiastically. Her arms wrapped around your waist and she set you on the counter. Standing between your legs, she carefully opened all of your products.
“Serum first,” you instructed. Paige looked at the little bottle strangely. “Just squeeze the dropper, babe,” you laughed.
Following your directions, she carefully placed a few drops on your face before gently rubbing it in. Her eyebrows furrowed and her tongue poked out slightly in concentration, and you cooed at how focused she was on making sure she was doing your skincare right.
She rubbed in your toner, making sure to do it in light circles, then applied your moisturizer. When she was done, she wiped her hands, then cradled your face. “You are perfect,” she told you.
“Stop it.” You looked down, heart bursting at the seams from all the affection that Paige was showing you.
“I’m serious. God really did spend extra time with you.” She brushed a strand of hair out of your face. “Don’t ever forget how beautiful you are.”
You wrapped your legs tighter around her waist. “How can I? You’re always gonna be there to remind me.”
Paige’s lips split into a grin. “Damn right I am.” Then she pulled you into yet another kiss, which you didn’t complain about. You could never get tired of tasting Paige’s lips.
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ok so now that I’ve traumatised everyone I’m requesting 22 for mpind matty!!
I’m going to sleep let’s hope I don’t dream of ginger roots shaped like butt plugs because!! that would be horrible!! anyways mwah <3
-legend anon🩵
this is sooo old i hope u still wanna see it!! don't remind me of the figging thing im positively gagging and not in a good way. Anyways onto the actually blurb length blurb
22. "Mark me. Mark me so everyone knows who I belong to."
wc: like 1k?? not much, that's for sure
content warnings: not really smut but also kinda, use of the word juxtaposition (soz guys), marking, exhibitionism, sub!Matty, teasing, jealous girlie, typical MPIND Matty cockiness
You're overreacting, you know you are. It's not that serious.
But it is.
Matty stands there, surrounded by people, all of them listening to him telling a story, hands moving erratically to emphasize his words, pausing to let people laugh at his crude humour every few seconds, most of them too drunk to even realise what he was talking about.
That wouldn't be an issue, not normally. The girl next to him is the source of your feeling of unease, hanging onto his every word and getting a bit closer with every giggle, touching his arm while batting her eyelashes, looking up at him sweetly. Something inside of you stirs at the scene, and your legs carry you across the room in direction of Matty, not stopping to think for just a second.
Pushing your way through the circle of people surrounding him, muttering quiet excuses as you walk up to the center where he stood, wrapping an arm around his waist. Matty looks at you, and you take the opportunity to kiss him, right in front of everyone. The girl that was coming onto him visibly rolls her eyes, taking a small step back and turning her attention to her drink, downing it.
A smug smile spreads onto your face as he finishes up his story rather quickly, leaving out key details as you impatiently tug on his shirt, urging him to come with you. Excusing himself, he follows you keenly, knowing exactly what got you like this.
The sound of his back hitting the closed bathroom door is loud, the sounds of his slightly tipsy giggles only making you more aggressive, feeling him up as his hands settle on your waist.
"What do you think you're doing, letting her touch you like that?" you voice is harsh as your nails ghost over his neck, tracing down the hollow of his throat.
"Jealous, are we? Didnt take you for the possessive type." Matty's grin is teasing, and he purposely throws his head back, exposing more skin to you.
"Don't act coy, its pissing me off."
"I only have eyes for you, you know that." he puntucates his sentence with a hand on your chest, softly touching your tits over your top. His movements are measured, fluid, and driving you insane.
"She doesn't know that." you hiss, mouthing at the skin of his neck, nipping and biting it. Matty lets out a satisfied sigh, leaning into the familiar sensation. Your hands find his hair, tugging it back in that way you know he loves, a soft moan spilling from his lips.
"Show her who I belong to then, mark me yours." the way he speaks is low, challenging, almost mocking you for your reaction. You shoot him an annoyed look, his smirk only spurring you on. Your teeth graze over his throat, leaving deep purple hickeys all over his neck, no area remaining untouched.
His strained sounds as you get more and more aggressive make you smile, barely giving him time to breathe between hot kisses full of teeth and tongue, directly followed by those same lips back on his skin sucking dark marks into the skin.
The bright light of the bathroom perfectly illuminates your work, the contrast of the hickeys against his pale skin make your breathing get a bit more shallow than usual, a change that doesn't go unnoticed by Matty.
"Enjoying the view?" he sniggers, cocking his head at you. The expression on your face is one he knows and loves all too well. One of lust. Passion. Adoration.
"Cocky." you mumble, trailing your fingers over his collarbones, pressing down lightly, making him hiss in pain, a filthy grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"Wanna show me off then, have them all see what you did to me?"
"Don't act like that's only what I want," you pull at his almost fully unbuttoned shirt, toying with the loose buttons. "We both know how much you love belonging to me." Matty goes quiet, his rapid blinking telling you everything you need to know.
"Hm. I need you to answer me, love." you can practically see him light up at the use of the pet name you use sparsely, his eyes soft as he stares into yours, lips parted slightly.
"Yes."
"Yes, what?" You taunt, letting your hands cup his face in a sweet manner, a delicious juxtaposition to the condescending way you're speaks to him. Matty takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling slowly, tongue darting out to wet his lips. It's rare that Matty gets even the smallest bit shy, but fuck, do you relish in it when it happens.
"I want people to see me, see how you own me." he smiles down at you, his hands gripping tighter onto your waist, pressing your body flush against his. The soft rumble of his voice goes straight to your core, and you clear your throat, much to Matty's amusement.
"I'm yours." he adds, a delicate finger running over your bottom lip, smudging your stick lipgloss. His nails are chipped with purple nail polish, matching his belt perfectly. His fashion sense is one of the things you love about him, not matter how 'odd' or 'girly' other people find it.
"You're mine." you speak softly, the kiss following mirrors the tenderness between the two of you, your lips moving against each other with devotion, hungrily drinking in each others reactions as they came, echoing off the tacky blue tiles of the bathroom wall.
Matty is proud, grinning wildly as you exit the bathroom, his shirt completely unbuttoned, his jeans so low waisted in was bordering on obscene. The looks the two of you got were mixed.
Some people raked their eyes up and down his body, gaze flicking between you and him before it finally clicked, their head quickly turning away from your direction.
George sees you as well, groaning as he spots the obviously fresh hickeys from across the kitchen counter, clutching the liquor bottle in his left hand. Handing you a mystery drink, he says a few words into your ear.
"Do you have to do that here? I dont want to think about you and him getting it on." George visibly shudders at the thought, shaking is head as if to get the mental image out of it.
"Soz mate, but this is payback for having to listen to your relentless shagging on Halloween." A party Matty had thrown months back for Halloween had led to George hooking up with a girl from your form, the walls proven paper thin as everyone had heard everything. You cringe at the memory, the sight of a few hickeys paling in comparison the the torture you had to endure that night.
George rolls his eyes just in time for Matty to pull you away, wrapping a tattooed arm around your waist, playing with the mesh of your his top.
"Alright?" he asks, pressing an endearing kiss to the corner of your mouth, the smell of wine filling your senses. You nod, intertwining your fingers as the two of you wade through the crowd, and you spot the girl from earlier.
Your body moves faster than your head, and you grab Matty's lower back, turning him to face you. You can feel the girl's eyes on you as you kissing him messily, taking his lower lip between your teeth as he gasps into your mouth.
Her footsteps are aggressive as she walks away, muttering under her breath. You smile against Matty's lips, content with yourself. Finally, you let go of him, your hands lingering on his chest as you trace what you left behind, a hazy feeling clouding your mind.
"Got what you wanted?" his tone is provoking as brown eyes find yours, face flushing a gentle shade of pink. The music is muted as everything blurs around you, the only thing worthy of your attention being the person standing right in front of you.
"You know 'm not done yet." you lean in to him, bringing your lips up to his ear, your breath hot against his skin.
"Far from it, actually. I'm going to show you just how much you need me, no matter how convincing your little display of confidence might me, hm?" his breath hitches at your words, his eyes darting around the room at the dozens of people surrounding you, blissfully unaware of the filthy things you're painting his fantasies with, scenes playing out behind his eyes like a film.
"Meet me outside in five minutes. Say goodbye to your little friend for me, yeah?" with that, you leave him standing there, breathing unsteady and knees weak, threatening to buckle under him.
It doesn't take long before you have him shoved up against the hood of some random car, the darkness of the moonless night concealing you. Matty's moans are like music to your ears, your lips against his getting harsher as seconds pass, feeling for like hours.
"Please, take me home. I need you so badly, please darling, i'll be so, so good for you-" you cut him off his a finger pressed to his pretty pink lips. He wants you, he yearns for you. The way his back arches forward at even the slightest tells you everything you need to know.
Who are you to deny him?
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cobaltperun · 10 hours
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To Never See You Again
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Tara Carpenter x female Reader
Summary: She was unattainable, radiating with blinding beauty that went above and beyond her appearance. And though you knew you shouldn’t, you flew too close to the Sun, hoping one day she would look at you the way you looked at her. (Set right before Scream 5)
Warning: Angst! And I don’t usually write full on angst with no happy ending, but I tried. Big spoiler, since I know some of you prefer to be warned about this, Reader dies. Also, a request, you know who you are, love you!
Masterlist
Word count: 2k
Growing up in Woodsboro didn’t exactly come with a lot of perks, in fact, it came with occasional Ghostface lunatics terrorizing a very specific group of people. Somehow, you didn’t care much about that. You weren’t a fan of horror, despite your best friend being a biggest horror fan you knew.
You didn’t dare to try and get into horror, fearing it would make your feelings for the girl even more obvious than they already were. Because Tara Carpenter wasn’t just your best friend. She was the strongest person you knew, going through abandonment after abandonment and still finding it in her to let new people in. She was gentle, accepting of anyone who wasn’t against her or her friends, and she was fiercely loyal and protective. And you loved her, you’ve been in love with her for years, yet you never said anything, because…
Well, Tara didn’t feel the same way.
And honestly, a part of you felt like you weren’t worthy of her love.
It wasn’t anything Tara did or said, you just felt like she could do better, and that she deserved better. It wasn’t even your self-esteem, you hoped, it was more the fact that Tara deserved perfection.
So, that was where you were. Sitting in her living room with an almost completed school assignment between the two of you. She looked so focused on it you dared to look at her a bit longer than you usually did.
“Y/N?” she suddenly said your name and you jumped, embarrassed that you got caught staring, but Tara just laughed a bit. “You can tell me if I have something on my face,” she rubbed the corners of her lips, trying to find the nonexistent smudge.
“There’s nothing on your face, T,” you laughed, looking away to avoid meeting her puzzled eyes. “You just looked kinda cute,” you tried to brush it off.
Tara rolled her eyes. “You always say that,” and you did, you very much did often say that.
“It’s true!” you defended yourself, turning to once again look at her and seeing that slightly mischievous look in her eyes. She was teasing you, thinking the compliment wasn’t serious. You couldn’t blame her, regardless of how lovestruck you were you thought you were fairly good at hiding your feelings for her.
“Sure, it is,” she brushed it off and somehow, for whatever reason you felt compelled to just tell her everything.
“I like you, Tara,” you ignored how hot your cheeks felt, how small your voice sounded, how loud your heart was beating, pounding against your chest. You ignored all of that and waited, suddenly finding the floor between your feet to be the most interesting floor to have ever been made.
“Well, yeah, we’re friends, I like you too, Y/N,” she said, puzzled over your decision to just suddenly blurt that out.
You should have taken the way out. She was serious. She didn’t realize what you meant. You should have accepted the chance she was unknowingly giving you. But you didn’t. “As more than a friend,” you told her, because deep down you felt guilty for having these feelings for her, for threatening to ruin your friendship, and for looking at her the way a friend shouldn’t. How long would it take for you to start blurring lines, to hug her as the one you were in love with instead as your best friend.
She needed to know. She had every right to know.
“As more- oh!” she gasped as she realized what you meant.
You dared to look up, to look her in the eyes. She looked surprised, but there was no anger, no disapproval in her eyes, just acceptance and apology.
“I’m sorry, you’re important to me, but just as a friend,” she didn’t move away from you, she kept the same distance as before you confessed.
“No, I didn’t expect you to! You deserve much better than me, anyway!” you tried to tell her, to make her known it was fine, that you never expected anything from her. Sure, you hoped. Who wouldn’t? But you didn’t expect her to return your feelings.
Yet, Tara frowned, scooting a bit closer and looked you right in the eyes. Her eyes, her big, expressive dark eyes were filled with anger. “Don’t ever say that again, you hear me, Y/N? It’s not about deserving more than you. Anyone would be lucky to be with you, I just never thought of you that way, you hear me?” she said it so firmly, without a hint of doubt, with so much conviction you didn’t have it in you to argue against her words. “Okay? I’m sorry I can’t return your feelings, but it isn’t because of you, I swear. There is nothing wrong with you,” there were no lies, no dishonesty in her words, Tara was completely honest, and you found yourself nodding.
“Please don’t apologize, I’m the one who blurred the lines,” you weren’t trying to make her pity you, you genuinely wanted to help her as well, because she was going to feel sorry, no matter what you said, and you wanted to lessen that feeling as much as you could.
“We’re okay, Y/N, you can’t decide who you fall for,” you could tell she wanted to tell you more, but she held back and that may have broken your heart more than her rejection.
Something did shift, she was holding something back from you, and she never did that before. And you knew you had to leave, to give her space and let her think things through. “Would you look at the time, I should get going,” you lamely said and just barely noticed the sadness in Tara’s eyes. She opened her mouth, as if to tell you something, maybe to stop you, though that was wishful thinking on your part.
In the end, she just nodded, getting up almost at the same time as you did and walking you to her front door. You stood there for a bit, silently taking the night in. It was late, close to midnight. You weren’t supposed to stay at her place for this long, but working on the project took more time than either of you predicted. Finishing it might be a bit awkward, but there wasn’t much work left to do, so you’d push through it.
At least your parents were out of town, so no one was worried about you. Even if they were, they likely would have guessed you’d sleep over at Tara’s place instead of walking back home at this hour. Well, either way, they weren’t home, so they couldn’t worry.
“Bye, Y/N,” Tara told you as you walked down the stairs. You turned around and saw she was smiling softly, her bright eyes still filled with an apology or not returning your feelings.
You smiled back at her, accepting her decision completely. You weren’t owed a chance at a relationship, no one was. Heartbreak hurt, but judging by Tara’s reaction you could still stay friends, though it would probably be best to keep your distance for a bit, just to let the feelings still in your heart fade for a bit. “Bye, Tara,” you said, raising your hand to wave at her as you took a few steps back. And then you turned, walking down the road through the darkness, you glanced back and saw she was no longer there. Of course she wouldn’t be, as much as she tried to be strong for you, you knew the talk was emotional for her as well, she needed her rest.
And then, just as you turned around you caught a glimpse of a cloaked figure and a white mask and before you could even realize what was happening you felt something sharp cutting through your flesh.
You didn’t hear anything but the pounding of your heart in your ears as you reached up, your bloody hand touching the mask. You looked at the eyes, barely visible in the darkness and saw cold, almost angry gaze bearing down upon you as you collapsed to your knees and the figure of death took your life.
~X~
Stabbed.
Gone.
Dead.
You were dead and Tara couldn’t remember the last time she cried her heart out the way she did today, at your…
Fuck… how could this happen?
Maybe you could have been saved, if anyone found you in time, but you were already dead when your body was found in the pool of your blood in the early morning. Cold, alone, with the killer not even bothering to hide your body or move it from the sidewalk. You died all alone, less than quarter of a mile away from Tara’s home, and she didn’t have any idea. She didn’t dare to call you, to make sure you came back home safely, because she didn’t want to make things even more awkward, she just sent you a text, one you never even opened, and she just thought you didn’t want to open her message. She thought it was a justified reaction. She didn’t think twice, even as the dread filled her. She thought it was dread of what’s to come, of how your feelings and her rejection of them would affect your friendship.
She was no stranger to losing people. First her father, then Sam, but they were, as far as she knew, alive. You were dead, there was no hope of fixing the relationship, of making up for the time that would be lost from now on.
She lost you. And she cried so hard she nearly had to use her inhaler, she cried and sobbed until there were no tears left to cry.
It wasn’t like she suddenly realized she had feelings for you, that she loved you back, or anything like that. She didn’t. She never looked at you like that, and she wasn’t in denial. She lost a precious friend and she grieved for a friend. And when she wondered if she should have done something differently, she wasn’t thinking about her feelings, but just letting you go home that late.
Because she had the same feeling she had when Sam was about to leave, that unexplainable dread that something important was about to be ripped out of her life and that she had no control over it as she watched you leaving. And Tara hated herself for that, she hated that she didn’t act on that feeling. She didn’t want to make it awkward between you two by asking you to watch a movie, let alone spend the night because of how late it was. She just turned you down, after all. And then she came to a conclusion the dread was just her reaction to what would happen between the two of you now, and she relaxed, letting it flow through her, instead of holding it in. How foolish was she to believe that? To not insist on making sure you came back home safely?
She could never look at you the way you looked at her, but she would forever regret that her last words to you were. ‘Bye, Y/N,’ such meaningless words, small, so ordinary. And Tara feared those were the very last words you ever heard spoken to you. Thinking of them now, they were even chilling last words to hear, so innocent and not in any way sounding like the final words. She wished she could have told you something else. She wished she could have properly explained to you that her rejection didn’t mean the end of your friendship, that she cherished every moment you spent together and that you were one of her best friends, if not her best friend.
She didn’t though. She thought she’d have time. That she would let you process everything and then try and see if the friendship could be continued or if you’d be prefer to keep your distance. She should have known better.
She should have known better.
She should have never left anything unsaid.
The sound of landline phone ringing in the kitchen broke her out of her thoughts and she reluctantly got up from the sofa to answer it.
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heyangel28 · 18 hours
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Harry Styles as a Partner / Headcannons
• About to get into an argument or fight? He’ll just kiss you to shut you up. (Only if it’s just you being grumpy)
• Biggest gentleman EVER, won’t let you carry too many shopping bags into the house, always opens car doors for you, if a cupboard door is open when in the kitchen he’ll always hold his hand against the sharp corners so you don’t bang your head e.c.t
• If you tell him you’re going for a shower he’ll always leave warm, dry towels on the toilet seat
• “beautiful”/“gorgeous”>“hot”/“sexy”
• SIDE 👏WALK 👏RULE
• When you’re about to leave the house together he’ll take your hand and always make you do a little spin so he can see your full outfit (cute asf)
• GOSSIP SESSIONS ALL THE WAY, you both just sit cross legged facing each other on the sofa and he’ll run his hands up and down your legs or hold your hands and you’ll just tell him about all the gossip and tea you need to spill. What’s even better is he always joins in like a teenage girl at a sleepover. You could be like “so then she-…” and he’ll be like “girl no she didn’t-again!?”
• THE SMALL THINGS THAT MATTER like; leaving sticky notes on the mirror when you take a shower, random flower bouquet surprises “just cause”, helping cooking dinner, breakfast in bed, covering you over with a blanket when you fall asleep on the sofa, moving the shoes by the front door so you don’t trip over, braiding / doing your hair randomly, zipping up your dresses or helping you clasp necklaces e.c.t
• Moving past you by your hips (like if you were standing at the kitchen sink and he needed past he’d like hold your hips and sort of shimmy his way past kinda moving you ya know what I mean?)
• Randomly comes up behind you and lifts you off the ground and then spins you around before setting you back down on the ground
• Never leaves you wondering he is, if he ever needs to leave while you’re asleep he’ll leave a note letting you know where he is
• White girl music taste all the way: He will practically spawn at the sound of Katy Perry or Miley Cyrus
• Always takes it in turns to cook dinner and will never let you cook for him every night for a week straight because otherwise he feels like he’s pushing unreasonable, mysoginsitic views (just let him)
• Can be quite clingy when he wants to be but knows when not to push boundaries (respectful king)
• Little spoon.
• Remembers all the little things like you could just randomly admit one day that you prefer white chocolate over milk or vise versa for example and he’d remember that information till he dies. But he’ll still always forgets big things like the time of soundcheck or what question was asked in an interview.
• He’ll pout his lips in your direction every-time he wants you to kiss him.
• Really bad knock knock jokes.
• Cringy chick flick movies
• Random candid photos
• Wearing his old t-shirts
• DEEP MORNING VOICE HOLY HELL SAVE MY SOUL
• Random I love you texts
• Singing or dancing while cleaning the house
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whereismyhat5678 · 4 months
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I’ve been putting this off since I’m scared what other people would think but-
I WATCH ALADDIN. Aladdin is my fav movie I genuinely love it I love the characters the animation EVERYTHING (especially Genie he’s my idol 🙏🛐)
But-….Listen- JUST-
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DRAW YOUR SHIP AS THIS JUST- DO IT- DO IT- JUST-
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writerman · 9 months
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Me: *sees Kar’niss for the first time* 👀👀👀👀👀
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goldensunset · 4 months
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i cannot stand those quirky overly-friendly-to-the-point-of-crossing-boundaries teachers and professors who make you do icebreakers or fun facts about yourself at the beginning of the semester bc their questions are always the exact sort of stuff that you never wanna answer. but they just keep asking bc they think you’re just being shy and cute. ‘what are your hobbies? what kind of music do you like? what’s a topic very personal and important to you?’ MAN i am not subjecting myself to public humiliation like that for being very far removed from the norm nor am i opening up about my deep-seated personal problems. i don’t know you i don’t respect you you are not entitled to anything outside of my graded work. i’m just trying to prevent everybody in the room including you and i from becoming incredibly uncomfortable. just take the hint when i deflect your questions and pretend to be boring
#my sociology professor was asking us all for our current favorite song to add to the class playlist that he plays a bit from every morning#even if i had a single favorite song i wouldn’t tell him#even if he wasn’t gonna play it in front of others i wouldn’t tell him#he was like ‘ahhh what a diverse and fascinating sample of different genres we’ve collected here from your responses!’#three taylor swift songs. some respectable rock and rap stuff. basically it#i am not about to submit my japanese robots singing about the most unhinged and frightening topics known to man#some of us actually got bullied as children and learned to never be honest ever again especially not when we don’t have friends with us#i could explain to him why i like the things i like#but i’m not about to be that vulnerable?? hello???? i already know he wouldn’t understand or care even if he didn’t say anything mean#ok hot take but i actually kinda don’t like the discourse surrounding infodumping#like ‘it’s ok to just talk at me about the things you like! :)’ ok but if i don’t have clear confirmation that you like it too#then it feels like you’re just listening to me out of pity#you could be as nice as possible but if you don’t ask followup questions or express any sort of favorite part or interesting detail#i will feel awful and be like ok never doing that again#maybe that’s just my personal flavor of mental illness#i never got like. told to shut up or anything when talking#but i did get the awkward silence or ‘light-hearted’ mockery#so i figured shutting myself up was for the best#peach rambles
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gojonanami · 6 months
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"IF YOU WANT, I CAN COME INSIDE?" - SATORU GOJO
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✴︎ summary: nobara spots gojo with a sorcerer she's never seen before and of course hijinks ensue. aka hearing gojo's english va (kaiji tang) say the above line in apothecary diaries and i lost my mind. ✴︎ contents: just fluff, gojo being a dumbass, lots of playful knocking gojo down a peg, nobara being an absolute menace, innuendo, implication of sex ✴︎ wc: 713
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NK: get over here now. [sends GPS location]
MF: Why? 
NK: don’t question it. Just get over here.
YI: on our way. 
“What is this—“ and Nobara pulls them back, shushing them, as they hide behind the side of one of the residential suites of Jujutsu Tech, designated for staff or visiting sorcerers, “Kugisaki—“ 
“Look at who that idiot is talking with—“ 
“Wow, she’s hot — who’s that?” Yuji blinks, tilting his head, “is she Gojo-sensei’s—“ 
“Can’t be she’s out of his league—“ Nobara scoffs, still peeking out, “do either of you know—“ 
Megumi answers, saying your name, “she’s a sorcerer - she’s been away on an overseas mission for a bit,” he shrugs at their curiosity, “I’ve worked with her before — I think that’s where she stays usually when she’s at Jujutsu Tech,” 
“She must be pretty strong then, I think the only other person who I know who went overseas for a mission was Gojo-sensei,” Yuji scratches his head, squinting his eyes and straining to hear, “what are they talking about?” 
“C’mon, one kiss?” Satoru pouts, his arms crossed to stop himself from reaching out, “it’s been so long and I can’t even touch you,” 
“Your students are watching us — you’re the one who didn’t bother to tell them you’re married,” you chuckle, shaking your head, “is this how you want to introduce me?” 
And he’s leaning even closer, smirking, warm breath against your ear, “if you want, I can come inside,” and you flush at his inneundo, gaping at him, before you shove him playfully, but he catches you by the wrist, pulling you closer. 
“Toru—“ and he presses his lips to yours, smiling, as you melt into his touch. 
“Let them watch, I need to welcome my wife back,” and he’s kissing you more insistently, arms sliding behind you to press you to him, your palm resting against his chest.
“EHHHHH?” Yuji and Nobara watch, jaws on the ground, as Megumi plugs his ears, shaking his head. 
“Can you two be any louder?” He grumbles, as you and Gojo turn to look at them. 
“Megumi!” You grin, walking over, “it’s good to see you — how are the boys?” 
He cracks a small smile, “The demon dogs are fine — they liked the treats you got them, thank you,” the two of you talk as Gojo makes his way over as well, hands behind his head as Nobara and Yuji stare at him. 
“How do you know her so well?” Yuji points at Megumi. 
“Well, her and Gojo kinda helped look after me,” he looks away crossing his arms, as you hide your smile — poorly, as given by Megumi’s slight glare.
“Hey what’s the deal?” Nobara glares, still focused on Gojo, “how’d you bag her? Did you lie? Did you suddenly grow a personality? Did you bribe her?” 
Gojo scoffs, laughing, head thrown back, “I just won her over with my infinite charm, of course!” 
“Wore me down is more like it, Toru,” you elbow him lightly, “wore me down to the point that I’d marry him,” you roll your eyes, as the pair of students stare at you. 
“YOU’RE MARRIED?” they shout at Gojo, pointing, who only rubs the back of his head, smiling. 
“Did I…forget to mention that?” He tugs his chain out from under his uniform, a platinum ring attached to it, “I don’t wear my ring because I don’t want it getting messed up from my cursed energy,” 
The three of them start bickering as you and Megumi stand, watching, “so this is what it’s like when you’re with them, huh?” 
Megumi sighs, “Pretty much,” and you give a soft smile. 
“No wonder you’ve seemed happier lately,” you give a small laugh at his bewildered expression before Satoru is wrapping his arms around you. 
“Sweetheart, my students are being so mean to me,” and you scoff, rubbing his head. 
“I’m 100% sure you deserve it,” and he’s pouting again, but leans into his touch, “come on, let’s have dinner together,” you grab his arm, “It was nice to meet you guys. Let me know if Satoru ever gives you any trouble.” 
“Huh? I’m not trouble,” he grumbles, as you kiss his cheek, before he’s leaning close again, lips brushing against your ear, “can I make good on my offer now?” 
“…after dinner.”
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✴︎ a/n: just a short little thing i wrote before i post on friday :). could not resist writing this quick little thing last night before bed :).
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suguann · 2 months
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He has a feeling that the new girl running the front desk at the gym is going to be a problem—a distraction disguised in a gym uniform polo and khaki pants.
It starts with you smiling too brightly as he walks in one morning, all teeth and that little twinkle in your eye that feels like trouble when you scan his membership card.
“Good morning, Mr. Riley.” 
“It’s just Simon,” he tells you as he takes his card off the counter. 
The following day, it’s the same, except Johnny is there to make it worse.
He nudges Simon with his elbow. “She’s kinda pretty, huh?”
“Say it any louder, and she’ll hear you, mate,” he grumbles.
Simon’s not blind; of course, he knows you’re pretty, but he doesn’t have time to commit to anything outside of work—even if you smile at him like you’re happy to see him and how he’ll think about it later: on missions, at his desk, during morning runs. His head is nothing short of woven webs with thoughts of you stuck in the middle.
Honestly, it’s that you—
(You try to make small talk with him every morning, and Simon is starting to think it’s just for him because on the days he doesn’t come alone, you merely scan his card and go back to reading the open paperback book on the desk.)
It’s weird because it’s almost like you—
(He bumps into you at the supermarket and makes a dumb joke about carrots that makes you laugh. It makes him a little tongue-tied and awkward afterward because he realizes he hasn’t talked to a woman outside of only wanting a quick fuck in a really long time, but more importantly, he wants to hear it again. 
Instead, he tosses potatoes in his cart and walks away.)
He tells himself it means nothing, or not how Simon wants it to.
You’re just…he’s not even sure; acquaintances? Maybe more than that, but less than friends. Somewhere in that odd in-between phase where he only knows bits and pieces but not the whole picture.
Sometimes, he wishes—
(Simon doesn’t know what he’s doing the first time he invites you to meet the guys from work on a night out. He’s dated around a few times and had his fair share of hook-ups, but this isn’t like that. His palms are sweaty, more than usual, and no amount of wiping them on the thighs of his jeans keeps them dry.
Then you walk into the bar in a dress that’s probably too light for early spring in London—even though he stares appreciatively at the long expanse of your legs as you walk up to the table—and he wishes he wasn’t introducing you as his friend.)
But you—
(A new development happens after you slip him your phone number on one of the gym’s business cards—it’s weird that we don’t have each other’s numbers, so message me sometime or whatever—and he messages you ‘hey’ right before he leaves for a mission a few days later. 
It slowly shifts and changes over time.
You start sending him texts in the morning. Never an actual good morning text, but of the dogs you take on walks, the sunrise, the new flower box in your window. Somehow, it’s better.)
You really are—
(His house feels too hot, and he’s distracted from the movie by how close you are, how your leg drapes over his under the blanket, fingers fisting into his sweater at his stomach that clenches. An ache that grows, throbbing, spreading from his abdomen to his groin.
It feels monumental—something more than the gentle touch to the elbow to squeeze by each other in his entryway earlier or giving you his jacket that night at the bar—a tilt of the axis that makes the messy pieces fall neatly into place. 
He must be staring because you glance up at him, smiling, and the sound from the TV turns into white noise in the background.
“Can I…would you—fucking hell,” Simon runs a hand through his hair. “Can I kiss you?”
When your lips press against his, and his hands are pulling you onto his lap, where you settle hotly against his dick tenting in his jeans, he wonders why neither of you has done this before. Just kissing—him licking the seam of your mouth, and you panting his name.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” you mumble, lips brushing his.
“Me too,” and he fists his hand into the hair at your nape and pulls you back to his mouth.)
“I knew you’d be trouble,” he tells you one day, glaring at the bloke further down the bar who tried making a swipe at your ass before Simon showed up, towering over his shoulder with your fruity cocktail in hand.
“Oh, yeah?” you giggle, leaning into his side.
“Yeah,” the corners of his mouth quirk, though he hides it when he presses a kiss against your temple. “A real pain in my ass, love.”
“But yours.”
This time, he does smile. “Yes, but mine.”
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Masterlist
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coryosbaby · 5 months
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we (8 billion people) are begging for dom fem reader and coryo dynamic. Why she always gotta be sub like my dom ass would slap the shit out of him ong
ʙᴇɢɢɪɴ’ ᴏɴ ʜᴇʀ ᴋɴᴇᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴘᴏᴘᴜʟᴀʀ !
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Synopsis: Coriolanus will do anything to get to the top, right?
Content warning . power dynamics, loss of virginity, face riding, multiple orgasms, marking, sub!pussydrunk! Coryo, dom! Reader that’s a lil fucked up
notes: me when coryo has hair real . This kinda sucks I’m sorry
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When you see Coriolanus Snow, you see a desperate man.
A boy, actually. You see a boy. A desperate, handsome, power hungry boy. You can see it in the way he towers over his peers in a sort of fake dominance, the fauxness behind his sugary sweet words directed to anything or anyone in a higher position— some even directed towards you, when that blush isn’t flushing his cheeks with a feral intensity.
As the daughter of Dr. Gaul, it’s quite easy for you to advance some of your friends in their studies. You are not only her daughter, but in a position of power yourself. You know people— and Coriolanus knows that. You aren’t dumb. You can tell by his eyes, the empty, icy blue orbs not quite telling the truth.
Coriolanus, in a way, is just like you.
Maybe that’s what intrigues you so much about him. Besides that pretty smile, or those golden curls or those muscles that make you drool, you admire his determination. You know about his poorness (not all know, but some do, as Dean Casca Highbottom once quoted to him), and you know one will go far to satiate their own greed.
It’s just a matter of how far.
Coriolanus walks into your lab crying, one day.
Not obviously. It’s subtle, as you demand he sit down and take off his shirt so you can stitch up his wounds. Your hands graze it softly, and he winces.
“Does it hurt?” You ask him, even though you already know the answer.
He lets out a shaky breath, his hands clenching at the seat.
“Yes.”
An honest answer. He must trust you.
You hum, beginning to work on his wound with taught precision. Looking at him now, his jaw is clenching tightly and the boy is shaking so much you fear he might break.
“I killed someone.”
He states it in a remorseful tone, the tone of someone weak and pathetic.
“Someone in the games, if I’m correct?”
He turns to look at you in surprise, as if you didn’t have access to your mother’s decision of allowing him to walk in there and save his friend Sejanus. He says nothing, then. He sniffles, and cries silently.
“You know,” you state, beginning to stitch him. “I’ve killed someone too. Someone I needed to kill.” You smile, remembering the one time a student who was threatening to take your place mysteriously fell into the pit of snakes. “It was necessary.”
Coriolanus tries to stay nonchalant, but you can see the way his shoulders tense. He doesn’t say a word, so you continue.
“Was it necessary to kill the person you killed?”
He looks down at his hands. Caked with blood, knuckles drawn taught. You want to bite them.
“No,” Coriolanus answers slowly. “No, it wasn’t.”
Maybe there’s more darkness to the boy than you originally thought.
You speak to him in a much lower tone now.
“Maybe it was. You just don’t know it.” And then, “There are a lot of things certain people can do to get to the top, Coriolanus.”
Your insinuation doesn’t go unnoticed. He moves his head to look at you.
“And what would that be?”
Typical. Someone so power hungry that his head turns at the mere mention of an opportunity. You’ve got him right where you want him.
You finish up his stitches. You move around to his front, your short red skirt all of a sudden incredibly suffocating as he looks up at you with something utterly pathetic in his gaze.
“How far are you willing to go, Coriolanus?”
And that’s when, a few moments later, you get your wish: that skirt, oh so suffocating, is strewn on the floor, Coriolanus’ big hands massaging the skin of your thighs as you straddle him. Your lips press against his in a hot and heavy kiss, your tongue massaging his lips with fervor. He may be doing this for advancement, but the blonde wants you nonetheless. You can see in the way his hips grind up, the way he lets out desperate whines as you lick up his tears with your tongue. Pulling away from him, your cunt clenches when he tries to push your body down onto his crotch.
“No, Coryo,” you demand, though your voice is desperate. “I want you on the floor, okay? You’re going to taste me first.”
He hesitates, his eyes darting to your lacey panties and then to the colorful tiles.
“… the floor?”
He seems nervous, jittery. It’s not as if he’s afraid of getting dirty, or something.
No, this is something else. In the way he nervously twiddles his fingers, the way his bottom lip catches in between his teeth. It’s not as if he wants to stop— it’s more so that he’s inexperienced.
And then it hits you.
Coriolanus snow is a virgin. This big handsome boy, beautiful and delicious, has never done had sex before. He’s never felt the touch of a woman, never eaten pussy or got his dick sucked.
And for some reason, that makes you want him more.
“Oh,” you coo to him, soft. “Coryo, you’ve never done this before, have you?”
His face turns dusty pink, but he tries to deny, deny, deny.
“What? No! Of course I’m not. I’m just..” he looks at the floor, his lie clear on his face. “The tiles are cold. Dirty.”
“You’re caked with blood and sweat, sweet boy. I’m sure the tiles will be fine.”
He looks away from you, his lips drawn up into a pout.
“I’m not a virgin.” He states, merely to himself. You raise a brow, an amused smile playing on your lips as you move farther away from him.
“Then why don’t you come and eat my pussy, baby?”
His cock strains against his zipper, and you swear you can see it twitch from where you’re standing. He gulps, and with a submission you would’ve never expected, the boy drops to his knees on the tile and makes his way towards you. His shirt, unbuttoned, shows the pretty lines of his chest and his rippling back muscles, and when he gets to you, he stops at the front of your still standing knees. Satisfaction wades through you when his hands move up to the waistband of your underwear and yanks them down with shaking hands. Your smell hits his nose, makes his head tilt back as he lets out a throaty sound in the back of his throat. His tongue laves over the skin of your inner thigh, his hands going around the back of one of your knees to pull you close. You spread your legs to allow him access, your pussy lips drenched with arousal as his breath laves over you.
“Go on, Coryo,” you urge. “You want me to put a good word to my colleagues, yeah? So you better do a good job.”
He moans, his tongue finally slipping in between your folds as he tastes you. He’s messy, sloppy, and it’s good but it’s not good enough.
“God. I thought you were experienced? Huh, Coryo? Don’t you wanna make me feel good? Are you even fucking trying?”
He pulls away from you, shame in his eyes as you scold him. He pleads, his lip wobbling, his arms holding onto your legs.
“Please, I’m sorry. ‘M so sorry. Teach me, please…”
He tries to press a kiss to your cunt, but you kick him away with your foot. He falls to the ground, helpless.
“Lay down—I don’t care if it hurts your back. Don’t make me tell you twice.”
He does as he’s told, all sweet and sweaty and bloody. His back hits the tile, injured but he ignores it when he watches you tower over him. You move down, pressing your knees on either side of his head. He grabs your thighs to place his mouth back on you, but you grab his golden curls in your hands and yank him back. He groans in pain, his feet kicking in a sort of pleasured resistance.
“You use your mouth when I tell you to, coryo,” you scold, watching the way his eyes flutter and only focus on your dripping pussy. “You do what I say. If I guide your head, or press myself down at a certain spot, you go along with it. Do you understand me?”
He nods, desperate to get his mouth on you, his cock thrusting into the open air.
“Good. Now, go slower. Stick out your tongue.. wider… therrre you go, baby.” His eyes focus on that one spot, his tongue hovering right over your clit. He must have read up on this a time or two. You press him closer, shoving his face into your heat as his tongue hits the swollen bud. “You see that? That’s my clit. Yeahh, stick your tongue right there…”
He groans, the taste of your sweet slick making his eyes roll back. His palms splay across your ass, digging crescent moons into the skin. You move your hips in a circular motion, giving Coryo the impression to move his tongue that way. He’s a smart boy, so he knows exactly what you’re communicating to him. His tongue moves in slow, languid circles, your slick already dripping down his chin. You can’t help but give into the pleasure he’s giving you for a moment, riding his face like your life depends on it before slowing down and stopping.
“Good, coryo. You’re being such a good boy. But you need to move your tongue down. You don’t want to play with my clit too much, because I’ll cum quick if you do.”
He makes a noise of understanding, moving his tongue down to your hole. It’s much funner this way, he thinks. The tip of his tongue can gather up the awaiting slick that’s spilling out of you, it makes your taste all the more prominent. You give him some room to experiment now, letting him move his tongue in between your clit and your hole. He catches on, and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was experienced now— he’s a natural learner. Your hips grind down into him, and when he tongues your hole you use his strong nose to grind lazily against. Coryo can only breathe in your slick, his brain becoming fuzzy from his lack of air. But it’s okay. It’s okay because he’s doing good.
You can feel yourself getting close, the languid strokes of his tongue making your legs shake. You hump against his mouth, your head thrown back.
“Gonna cum,” you say to him. “Gonna cum on this slut mouth.”
He groans, his jaw working even harder now. He focuses on your clit more, save for the few times that he slurps up the slick from your hole. Your orgasm is fast approaching, your body drawing up tight.
And finally, you’re cumming on his mouth, moans spilling from your lips and Coryo’s. He’s desperate to catch all of your cum onto his awaiting tongue, his legs still moving around as he consumes you like a man starved. Your eyes roll back and you grind your hips against him as you come down from your high. Coryo pulls away once he’s satiated, looking up at you with his chin coated in slick.
You sigh, pulling your hips back to give him some air. You move your body off of him, going to your knees to watch his pussy drunk face still follow your cunt as you move. You want to return the favor, now. It’s only fair.
But looking down, you notice a wet spot soaking through Coryo’s pants.
He lifts himself up on his elbows, looking from his crotch to you. He flushes, apologies spewing from his wet lips, shaking his head.
“I tried not to. I really, really did. ‘M so sorry.”
He tries to reach out to touch you, but you just move away and down to his crotch. You unbutton his jeans, and he lets you. You look down at his red briefs, watching the white stain peeking through.
“Oh, baby. You just couldn’t help, it could you?”
You mock him, your hand palming his shaft. He lets out a whimper, his head falling back against the tile. He knows it’s too much, but he isn’t stopping you. You pull his briefs down, and boy is he big. Thick and long, all pretty and red with cum dripping down to his balls. Your mouth waters, but you figure that can wait another day. His seed can be used for other things.
You flutter your lashes at him, your hand wrapping around his shaft, jerking him to hardness again. He’s got this look, contorted and pained and pleasured at the same time. You straddle his meaty thighs, your cunt lips brushing over his cockhead, and he gasps.
“W-Wait—“ he starts, choked. “It’s.. ‘S too much—“
“Then why are you hard again?” You tilt your head at him, your movements paused because he didnt give you full permission. “Don’t you want my warm, tight pussy? Don’t you want to make it to the top?”
And that gets him going, his arousal for you and power and riches. He nods, eyes rolling back as you sink down on him. The cum from his last orgasm coats your walls and makes it easier to fill yourself up, warm white streaks dripping down his cock again.
“Oh.. oh my god,” his mouth drops open, and you’ve never heard a boy so vocal. “Please… I want it, I want it!”
You know what he’s asking for. Your stilled hips are non moving, letting him stretch you and sit heavy inside your cunt. You smile, moving your hips just a bit, letting him feel your gummy walls sucking him in. His mouth is in the shape of an o, his hair messy and disoriented. He tries to grab your tits, your hips, and with a surprising force your palm strikes his cheek haughtily. He cries out, his thighs shaking, his hips thrusting up.
“No touching,” you demand. “You don’t get to do that. Give me your hands.”
He lets you take them, and you push them far over his head as you begin to work your hips harder, faster. His balls make plop plop plop-ing noises as they hit your ass, quivering and begging for you to let them empty inside you. You move down to his neck, leaving purpleish bruises over his skin, marking him as yours. You let go of his hands so you can rest your hands on his torso, and his hands move up. Not necessarily to touch, but to hover over your tits bouncing through your tight fitted shirt. You give him permission, just a moment, to squeeze the soft skin in his hands, give them a teasing, bold little slap. You breathe shakily, his cock filling you up in ways no other has. You watch as Coryo’s head tilts back, and you know he’s close.
“Gonna cum?” You taunt, your nails scraping against his chest. He groans, nodding. “Gonna fill up my tight little pussy? Cmon, give it to me, I know you want to.”
And when he spills into you, rope after rope of warm, hot cum filling you to the brim, you let out a cry. His fingers find your clit— he’s thought this through, hasn’t he? He rubs you until you’re seeing stars and clenching around his overstimulated cock with a loud sob. He moves up to kiss you hot on the mouth.
“Did I do good?” He asks.
You smile, your hand threading your hands through his hair as you both relax against each other.
“You did very good, Coryo. I’m so proud of you.”
He breathes out a chuckle, shoving his face into your neck. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and he winces. His wound has been withstanding a lot of pressure.
“You probably want to put some ice on that.” You suggest to him. He shrugs.
“The tile was cold enough.”
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madelynraemunson · 2 months
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pass the salt • e.m. smut
DAD’S BEST FRIEND!OLDER!EDDIE x FEM!READER
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summary: you’re home from college and staying with your dad for the summer, spending as much time as you possibly can with him…and his hot best friend that you’ve never seen in your life.
authors note: okay have you guys ever seen those text posts like “when you say ‘daddy pass the salt please’ and your father and your man both reach for it” 💀💀 well this is inspired by that concept. also i went overboard and this is a LONG BOI
disclaimers — photo credits to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple 🫶🏼porn with plot, reader’s nickname is “sunshine”, reader has female anatomy, race unspecified, divider: @iluvpooks
NSFW — 18+ obv, porn with plot, daddy kink pls keep scrolling if it’s not ur thing, slight age gap (eddie is mid to late 30s, reader is in her early 20s), corruption kink, size kink, masturbation (m&f), p in v sex (protected), dirty talk, teasing, sexual innuendos, extreme flirting, eddie kinda being a perv, praise kink
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The sound of breakfast on the griddle summons you downstairs.
Dad never cooks.
For as long as you can remember, weekends at your dad’s have always consisted of Lucky Charms cereal and powdered donuts. That tradition continued even after you started college.
Oh yeah. Someone is here, alright. Someone Dad desperately wants to impress.
Trailing after the commotion, your fuzzy pink slippers guide you down the wooden steps of your dad’s ‘bachelor pad’ and into the kitchen. And when you near the bottom of the steps, you can make out two distinct voices — one belonging to Dad, another belonging to someone who's identity is obscure.
“God, I fucking missed you, Jeff. Missed everyone so much.”
The smells of pancake batter, cigarette smoke, mint, and petroleum fuel reel you in, but not nearly as much as the sight of the man sitting on the opposite side of your dad. He's built, handsome with wavy brown hair, leather, black denim, twiddling a toothpick between his teeth as he listens to your dad speak with a smile on his face. That is, until you come into sight. It then that his intense focus circles in on you.
Funny. You don’t remember this friend. And something in your gut tells you that you won’t ever be forgetting him after this.
The stranger's grin curls into a wonder-filled smirk. You can feel your knees start to buckle.
“Uh oh. Looks like our shenanigans woke up Sleeping Beauty.”
When you get a closer look at Dad’s friend, you observe his faint brown beard — neatly kept and lightly peppered with some gray — delicious lips, shiny white teeth, and grooves along his laugh lines that would deepen with every theatrical cackle he belted out.
You can't help but freeze in your tracks as him and your dad continue on with their banter, reliving their glory days like it was yesterday. Man. What a damn dreamboat.
Your dad’s eyes light up with glee when he sees you.
“Hey, good morning, Sunshine!” Dad cheers. “Thought you’d never wake up. This is my friend Eddie. We were in that band together in high school. Come say hi.”
"Yeah, come say hi," Eddie agrees. feeding into the obvious tension in the room. "I don't bite."
The stranger laughs at his own comment as soon as he utters it.
There’s a charm — a magic — about Eddie that could only be found in Hollywood or the Big City. But of course, you didn't expect any less from Dad's supposed ‘Rockstar Friend’.
When your parents had you at 17, life went on for Dad’s band Corroded Coffin. And although he missed out on the ‘Sex, Drugs, and Rock&Roll’, Dad insists that tea parties and white picket fences were an ideal trade-off. Because — despite how things ended with Mom — it still meant a life spent with you.
You tell him your name as Eddie offers you his hand to shake. Electricity serges through you when your hand is enveloped by his firm, calloused one. Eddie smiles down at you, his presence all-consuming. It's almost as if he knows it. And as much as you were dying to, you resist the urge to fall into him.
Eddie's no better.
It takes everything in Eddie's power to keep his eyes above your collarbones, reprimanding himself with the utmost tedium. Because heaven knows he'd be TOAST if his best friend found out that Eddie thought that you were absolutely stunning — strutting around the house the way that you do, without a bra underneath that poor excuse of a sleep shirt — a sleep shirt far too tight for your own good. With tight, pajama shorts to match…
Of course, this is all an assumption…Not that he caught wind of it or anything.
“You know…” he mentions. “Your dad has told me SO much about little miss Sunshine.”
“Me, really?” is all you can say behind those fuscia cheeks.
“Really,” Eddie insists. “He never shuts up about you, darling.”
“Hopefully you’ve only heard good things,” you mutter faintly.
And instantly, your dad and Eddie share a laugh.
“Only good things,” Eddie assures you. He nudges your dad playfully.
Your dad doesn’t exactly deny the last part, basically confirming to Eddie that you’ve got a hint of spunk to you. The heat settles at your cheeks as you shy away from your father’s curious friend.
Taking note of how timid you’ve just become, Eddie furrows his brows.
“What — was that an implication that you’re not always good?”
“No comment,” your smile melts into an awkward one.
“Kept me on my toes back then,” your dad reflects with a sigh. “Keeps me on my toes now.”
“You don’t say…” Eddie smirks slightly, gaze panning back over to you.
Eventually your dad leaves you two alone, going into the garage to fetch something that he insists Eddie would like. But little did he know that such thing was already in the room, leaning…reaching into the fridge for some orange juice, not realizing its atmosphere caused your nipples to harden.
Eddie’s eyes proceed to follow you as you strut back to the griddle, flipping some hot cakes over before tending to your messy bedhead.
Eddie probably doesn’t know — or maybe he does, who knows? — that you feel him staring at you. It’s a burning gaze that practically impales you, but you’re too nervous to say anything. You’re better off pretending like it’s something you don’t notice.
You and Eddie continue to help yourselves to breakfast, enjoying the company of each other and your mutual silence. That is, until Eddie speaks up.
“Got some sausage for you if you’d like.”
“I’m sorry?” you sputter, looking up from your food.
Eddie shoots you a weird glance as he holds up some breakfast franks.
“Sausage?” he repeats. “Store was out of beef so I settled for turkey. Hope that’s not a problem.”
“Not at all,” you clear your throat. “I love turkey sausage.”
“Okay, good,” Eddie chuckles, seemingly relieved at how quickly the situation had diffused.
“Cool,” you chuckle with him while taking some links to cook.
The silence returns once more and is replaced by the sizzling of the grill. It’s short lived, however, because soon, the man nearly twice your age speaks again.
“What’d you think I said?” Eddie circles back.
“Nothing, why?”
“You just looked stunned.”
“I just woke up,” you shrug. “My mind’s somewhere else.”
“I can tell,” he smirks. “Get that thing out of the gutter.”
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The coming days paved way for some more innocent flirting.
…Like when you make sure to wear the shortest skirt in your closet when running Eddie his afternoon beer in the garage.
“Well don’t you look absolutely darling…” he says as he peers up from his guitar.
“Hehe,” you smirk connivingly. “Thank you!”
“You are so welcome.”
Eddie downs the liquid guilt along with his pride, watching you strut around…the hem of that pleated cotton fabric just barely covering the roundness of your asscheeks. And as you blush a rosy pink when you process his little remarks, Eddie can only clear his throat in arousal, fantasizing about just how badly he wanted to turn your other cheeks that very shade.
…Or when you come downstairs the next day to help Dad manually wash his car.
While he and Eddie are harassing each other with soap and that god-forsaken hose, you decide to join in on all the fun.
“Watch out, Sunshine,” Eddie forewarns. “You’ve just entered the splash zone!”
And with the intention of cooling you off on a hot summer day like this, Eddie teasingly sprays you with said hose, your white shirt becoming transparent when lathered with water. He could see everything. Your erect nipples. Your perky tits bouncing in the sunlight as you jump around in excitement. How glazed your oil-nnuendo’ed skin looked when glimmering in the sun. All as intended.
“You got me,” you surrender yourself to him. “You got me good, Eddie.”
And when you walk away, Eddie mutters slyly to himself.
“Yes, yes I did.”
…And then there’s dessert after dinner.
Eddie watches as you lick your popsicle, his fingers curling at his thighs in arousal as you retract the wrapper before enclosing your lips around the bright pink dessert. And he swears he’s going to blow his pants when he envisions the melted sugar shooting into your mouth with the swiftest hollowing of your cheeks, the quiet suction noise you make with your pursed lips forcing him to adjust the way he’s sitting.
…The final instance takes the cake.
“What’s your major?”
You’re in the home library grazing some of Dad’s old books and vinyls, talking to Eddie while your father gets ready for the day. Meanwhile, Eddie is perched at your dad’s desk, rolling around in his expensive swivel chair and occasionally doing some spins on it to make you laugh.
“History.”
“Sounds boring.”
“You just haven’t found a topic that interests you,” you point out.
“Mm,” is all Eddie says. “Maybe I will eventually.”
Eddie watches as you waltz around in front of him, following your movements with his eyes as you get onto your tippy-toes in order to grab some books on the top shelf.
“Oh my god!” you yelp.
Your plan to entice him seemingly fails when you graze a book that’s halfway off the shelf. It’s already flying off of its platform, headed straight towards Eddie's lap before you can even stop it.
Eddie catches it before any damage can be done, saving Dad’s old campaign book with the hand furthest from you and snaking the other around your waist to prevent you from sinking any further into him.
Phew. Crisis averted.
Your eyes meet again.
“I’m so sorry, Eddie,” you gasp in embarrassment. “That book has a mind of its own.”
“You’re fine,” Eddie laughs. “Can’t defy the laws of gravity. Sometimes it betrays us.”
You feel yourself burning up a fever. Excusing yourself from the room, you leave Dad’s library and make your way over to the kitchen for a glass of water.
But you’re nearly taken aback when you feel tight, calloused hands wrap around your hips, and like a feather it’s like you’re whisked away into the air, and soon your body is pressed up against the wall.
Slam!
Breathing heavily against each other now — chest to chest, lips so unbearably close you can smell the whiskey — Eddie draws you even closer to him. You both study each other intently. It’s like you’re waiting for the other to say something. Eddie does the honors and speaks first.
“I wasn’t born last night, doll. I was also your age at one point.”
———
To his own despair, Eddie touches himself later that night. Facing your room, he strokes his rock hard cock with his lotioned-up hand, running his thumb across the slit of his head, pretending it’s your tongue giving him a little tease like you did the popsicle.
“Fuuuck,” he grunts quietly. “You like when I fuck your throat, baby? Gonna suck me dry with that pretty little mouth of yours?”
You’re playing make-believe just as much. Because at the same time, in your room, you’re a drooling, pathetic mess, riding your wall-mounted toy to oblivion in your bathroom, legs trembling when the thick, veiny piece of silicone slams into the spongy part of your heat, initiating shock-waves all across your body.
“Eddie,” you find yourself blubbering. “EddieEddieEddieEddie…”
You both know it can’t be like this, but that was the mere thrill of it all. And when you both have overcome your peak, just one mere wall apart, the floodgates of guilt outweighs both your arousals the way it comes pouring in.
So, so wrong. But oh, so right.
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You’re anticipating…waiting…aching for Eddie to make the next move.
He doesn’t.
“Going to the store again,” Eddie announces. “Hopefully this time they’ll have beef sausage. Need anything?”
Need you, is what you think. But you end up shaking your head, a part of you disappointed that you and Eddie won’t be able to spend some time alone together.
“No,” there’s defeat in your voice.
“Are you sure?” Eddie questions softly.
“Mhm,” you nod.
“Okay,” he gives you a grin, one in the form of a tight-lipped smile. “I’ll be right back. You be good.”
“Ha-ha,” you roll your eyes.
——
Eddie leaves the door of his room open that night. Just a smidge. You end up following the sound of his TV that he’s placed at a low volume, making out that it’s Seinfeld just by Jerry’s voice and the laugh track.
Your heart skips a beat as Eddie laughs along with the show, shaking his head at a stupid joke. But he shifts his focus immediately onto you when he sees you at the doorway.
“Having some alone time tonight?” you ask him.
“Mmm…not by choice,” he responds. “Tuckered your dad out after dinner doing P90X.”
Eddie follows a crazy workout routine. He says that it helps with his stamina, especially when he does crowd work during his stage performances. Your mind can’t help but wonder what else he may be using it for.
You snort. “Yeah. Dad wasn’t what you’d call an athlete in high school.”
Eddie laughs at that too. Both you and him know that.
He then pats the space on his bed beside him. “Wanna come watch with me?”
Your stomach does a series of cartwheels when you process Eddie’s question. You know what’s bound to happen if you follow through. And it seems Eddie knows it too. Even if there wasn’t any sexual tension between you both already, the concept of it all would rub anyone that way.
But you still follow through with it. Just like Eddie knew you would.
“You comfortable?” Eddie asks you, eyeing you endearingly as you squirm around on the bed.
“Yeah,” you breathe.
“Good…” he replies, voice nearly at a strained whisper now.
You two watch the show in silence for a few minutes, exchanging commentary and pleasantries regarding the show every so often. It’s not too long after Eddie pulls a laugh from you that he starts closing up the space between you both, scooting himself closer…and resting his gruff palm over the base of your knee.
You inhale sharply as he does so. And evident by your refusal to pull away, it’s enough of a green light for Eddie to hike up further.
A soft moan escapes your mouth from the back of your flustered throat, but you bite your lip in restraint.
"I'm sorry," you whisper.
"For what?”
You shrug sheepishly as Eddie continues to graze your thigh. Your breathing falters even more.
“Don’t be scared,” Eddie coos.
“I’m not,” you insist.
“Then what’s stopping you from getting on top of me? Hm?”
He’s in between your legs now, the rough material of his denim jeans riding up your sex, teasing your clit with every calculated rub against it.
“And riding my rock hard cock til those pretty legs give out?” Eddie continues. “I see how you’ve been looking at me, doll. It's all over your face how bad you want it.”
“The bed is squeaky,” you answer honestly. “And that headboard is a lost cause.”
Eddie puts the dirty talk on pause, squirming around to assess the guest bed’s squeak factor. When it checks out, he gives you an understanding nod. You giggle.
Eddie wastes no more time. You watch as he grabs one of the pillows on the bed and wedges it between the wall and headboard. He issues you a sly smile.
“Oldest trick in the book.”
You're back to fooling around shortly after, your aching core burning with lust as you pine for him.
“The boys at school ever touch you this good?” Eddie quips rubbing circles around your puffy, needy folds as you hopelessly cling to him out of pleasure.
“No, Eddie.”
“Didn’t think so.”
He continues to tease, gliding his fingers along your slit before slowly inserting two large digits inside of you.
His calculated pumps into your needy pussy are steady, a pace so agonizingly beautiful that it makes you squeal sweet nothings into the crook of his neck.
"Shh, baby," Eddie hushes you. "Your dad's gonna hear us. Gotta be quiet for me, mkay?"
Your hot, messy, and muffled sounds cease as Eddie soothes your quivering lips with his tender ones.
The wet sounds that ricochet and fill the room in tandem is almost enough to send him over. And Eddie is sure to communicate that… with an abrupt curving of his three thick fingers.
Fuck.
Needing him direly now, you tug helplessly at his pants.
“God, Eddie,” you whimper. “Just fuck me already. Please.”
Eddie laughs at the desperation. He hasn’t ravaged you to his fullest extent yet, and you’re already a pooling mess beside him.
“Well since you said please, sweet girl,” Eddie obliges as he starts to undress himself. “Your wish is my command."
You watch Eddie as reaches over into the bedside drawer for a fresh box of condoms. Looks like the sausage links weren't the only things he went to the store for.
“Oh.”
Eddie chuckles at your observation before shrugging. Can you really blame him? You both knew what was coming.
You watch with absolute lust as Eddie slides the piece of rubber over his long, girthy, throbbing cock. He’s bigger than anyone you’ve ever had before, and the snarky, hooded-eye smile as he watches you fawn reveals to you that he knows exactly how to use it.
"On your stomach, babygirl. Will have you all nice and pounded out just like you wanted.”
You situate yourself in prone and spread your legs for Eddie to line himself up against them. He teases his wrapped cock against the entrance of your pussy, and when his soothing countdown is over, your lips part in disposition as you accommodate his ruinous stretch.
A throaty moan spills out of the both of you the moment Eddie snaps his hips in and out of you. Meanwhile, one of his hands lays tauntingly at your stomach, so the prideful man can feel himself wriggling inside you, glazing his shaft with your slick more and more with every pump into your weak cunt.
"Fuck, Eddie... yes..." you mewl. "R-right there, Eddie, please..."
And then it picks up. You can feel Eddie’s hips practically collapse right onto you, his balls slapping against you as he digs further into your body.
"God damn..." the man sighs in disbelief.
He can only beam down at you in awe. You were taking him so good, pussy swallowing him so nice and tight. And when you nestle your ankles between each other to keep him there in prone, the nearly cries out in pleasure, but refrains because he knows your dad is resting — just a thin wall over.
That still doesn’t stop him from going to town though. Practically seeing stars, the broken record of a mouth that belongs to you chants Eddie’s name like it’s all you know. Eddie attempts to keep you contained, offering you his fingers to suck on as he’s railing you dumb.
And when he fucks you through your climax, Eddie continues with his string of lust-filled praises, satisfied at himself that he was able to make you wet enough to soak the mattress.
“Did so good for me, angel,” he praises you as he sucks at your temple. “Always knew you weren’t all that innocent.”
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The griddle comes out again on Eddie’s last day. But this time, for a homestyle southern dinner.
You and Eddie were on mashed potatoes and gravy duty at the stove, an ordeal that only opened doors for lots of innuendos on Eddie’s part. Meanwhile, Dad insisted on making the rest, having taken pride in continuing his Mama’s legacy.
“This is amazing, Daddy,” you rave. “I really missed this. Do you mind passing the salt, please?”
And to your horror, you watch as your father and Eddie automatically extend their arms, bumping into one another in the process en route to getting you the salt.
The gentlemen meet each other’s eyes.
“Ohp!” Eddie exclaims, letting out a slight chuckle. “Sorry.”
You try your hardest not to blush. Eddie kicks you from under the table, and softly he oh-so-seductively he mutters,
“I was just tryna help her out.”
3K notes · View notes
steddiecameraroll · 16 days
Text
Robin is gawking at him and he can’t figure out why.
“What??” Steve shrugs.
“Repeat what you just said.”
“What? That I’d kiss Eddie?”
What’s the big deal?
“Yes, yes that.” She narrows her eyes and leans over the counter. “Since when?”
“Since always?” He doesn’t understand what she’s not grasping. “Why are you so surprised? Don’t his lips look super soft?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never once clocked the smoothness of his lips.”
“Oh come on,” Steve scoffs. “You’re telling me after months of hanging out with him, you’ve not once looked at his mouth?”
“Oh I’m sure I’ve looked at his mouth. The man does not shut up, but I can say I’ve never noticed his lips.”
ao3
“Whatever, I don’t believe you, but OK.” He shrugs because there’s no point in arguing.
“Steve, I’ve never noticed any man’s lips. Including yours. And the fact that you have is what I’m trying to explore right now.”
“What do you mean?” He feels a weird twinge deep in his gut.
“What do you mean, what do you mean?” Her voice is oozing with disbelief. “How many other men’s lips have you noticed?”
“I don’t know, I don’t keep track.”
Obviously. That would be really hard to do. He’d have to have a notepad or something in his pocket at all times.
“You don’t keep track?” Her eyes look like they’re going to pop out of her head. “Wait, so you’re telling me there’s too many for you to remember?”
“Yes? I mean, even today there was that one customer with that jean jacket and that guy with the colts hat. And it’s only 11.”
“Oh my god.” Her jaw is on the floor.
“What? I don’t get it. We talk about customers we think are hot all the time?”
“OH MY GOD!” She slaps her hand over her mouth.
“What? I seriously don’t understand what’s happening right now.”
“Steve.” She swallows before continuing. “You’re attracted to them?”
“If they’re hot, they’re hot. What’s the big deal?”
“I have NEVER thought a man was hot. I can understand how they’re attractive but me myself and I, doesn’t get it.”
“Never?” That doesn’t make sense.
“Never. I’m a lesbian. That means I’m attracted to women. What you’re telling me, so very nonchalantly, is that you, Steve Harrington, have found men attractive. In fact, you’re telling me you find Eddie Munson attractive. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Not really.” He crosses his arms and cocks his right hip out.
“You’re not as straight as you might think you are, buddy.”
“What?” No.
“You find more than women attractive.”
“But I’d never date a guy?”
“Oh really? Tell me, have you ever thought what Eddie’s like as a boyfriend? Or like maybe how big his dick is?” She sounds frustrated.
“Well…kinda?” He remembers that one weekend he had everyone over to hang out at the pool, and the first time Eddie got out of the water. His swim trunks were wet and clinging to his body, and Steve’s eyes clocked the outline of the man’s dick. He did wonder if the man was a grower as well as a shower. “It was only because it was like right there.”
“You’re a disaster. What about the boyfriend thing?” She tilts her head and shrugs.
“Wait, so you’re telling me you’ve never thought what it might be like if we dated? Not even at Scoops?”
“Oh my god, no! Les-bee-an,” she waves her hands in front of her body.
“Whatever, it’s not like I’ve thought about marrying him or anything. Just kissing and like how sex would work, y’know between us. If he- or if I wanted him to- which doesn’t sound bad, I’ve just never done that so I don’t know if I’d like it. Would he like it?” Steve leans on his elbows over the counter, and almost gets lost in thought over the idea.
“Now you’re having sex with him?” Robin squeals.
“How do I know if I don’t like it if I don’t try it? Maybe I’d love it. This feels like a way for me to find out.”
“I think I need a break. Don’t follow me.” She points at him. “I’m happy you’re exploring this…thing, but I’m not equipped for this. My best friend likes boys.” She shakes her head and walks away murmuring to herself.
“I don’t know that I…,” he trails off when she disappears into the back room.
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Steve’s thumbing through one of the movie release magazines on the counter when the bell over the entrance catches his attention.
“Hey, big boy.” Eddie gives Steve a bright smile as he saunters up to the front counter.
“Hey, man.” Steve closes the magazine and stands up straight. Perfect timing. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Oh yeah? Missed me?” He leans over the countertop and looks up at Steve.
Steve rolls his eyes. This goofball. “Yes, I’ve got a question for you. Rob and I were talking earlier and she said she’s never checked out a guy before. That because she’s a lesbian, she’s not attracted to men, at all. But that makes no sense because I’ve found a ton of guys attractive and I’m straight. Maybe I’m not dating these men, but I’d definitely fool around with them. She’s lying right?”
Eddie’s staring at Steve with his mouth slightly agape. The smile is gone and Steve can see more of the whites in Eddie’s eyes, like he’s surprised or something.
“You get it, right? Am I crazy?” Steve’s heart is starting to pick up.
“F-fool around?” Eddie’s voice cracks a little.
“Yeah, like, hand jobs and making out or whatever. Maybe more? I don’t know, I’ve never done more than a blow job but I’ve thought about it.”
Eddie shoots up with a violent cough, like he swallowed wrong. He starts slamming his fist into his chest trying to catch his breath, and Steve stands there watching the guy have a coughing fit.
“You OK?” Should he get Eddie some water?
Eddie raises his finger asking for a second, and keeps slapping his palm against his chest. Steve stands there getting more and more self conscious as each second passes. After a good 20 more seconds Eddie seems to have caught his breath and gives Steve a small smile.
“Just for, uh clarifications sake, did you give the blow job or get the blow job?”
“Both?”
Who only receives and doesn’t pay back? That’s rude.
Eddie huffs and stumbles forward slightly catching his hands on the counter. He nods at Steve, then lets his head dip down, his hair falling down over his face.
“Right, obviously. Did, uh, did you enjoy it?” Eddie’s voice sounds strained.
“Yeah? Who doesn’t like sex? I haven’t done it a lot but yeah. Don’t you like it?” Is he missing something?
“Uh huh,” Eddie flips his head back and looks at Steve. “I like it a lot.”
Steve shrugs, and then watches Eddie drag his eyes slowly up Steve’s body like he’s cataloguing every inch of it. The direct attention catches Steve by surprise, and he can feel a blush spread across his cheeks.
“So, y-you get it, right?”
“Yeah,” Eddie sighs. “I just didn’t know you got it.”
“What? Of course. Doesn’t everybody find all hot people attractive?”
“Some of us,” Eddie’s voice is almost gravelly now, and it’s doing something to Steve’s body.
“Some? What do you mean?”
“Not everyone thinks like we do, Steve. Wow,” he shakes his head. “We. As in, you and I. As in you, Steve Harrington, pretty boy extraordinaire. Ohhh this changes everything.” Eddie murmurs almost to himself. “How did this, uh, topic come up with Robin?”
“We were talking about you, but hold on.” Steve waves his hands around. “Not everyone? You’re telling me that not everyone is attracted to everyone?”
“Me?” Eddie ignores Steve’s question. “What about me? You were talking about me?”
“Yes, I said you had kissable lips but go back. I don’t understand. I can name five guys right now who agree with me. I mean, two of them had girlfriends when we messed around. In fact, Stacy was there one time. She only watched but like, what are you saying?”
“Kissable lips? You think…? Wait, five? You’ve had a threesome?”
“I don’t think it’s a threesome if she didn’t get involved. Right?”
“Riiight, ok wow. So you’re straight, you say?”
“Yes, why is this so hard to explain? I figured if anyone would understand it would be you, because you said you’re bisexual. So you’re actually attracted to men and women as in you’d date them both.”
Eddie blinks at Steve a few times before nodding slowly. “Right, cause that’s what that means. Um, is Robin still here?” Eddie’s looking around the store now trying to find the woman.
“No, she had the early shift.”
“Ok, well, um so I’m gonna go home and blow my brains out, but uh if you want to…,” Eddie taps his fingers on the counter. “If you want to come over later and find out how soft my lips are, let me know.” He slaps his hand in the counter, and turns away heading toward the door without glancing back at Steve.
“Um, OK.”
“See ya, Harrington.” Eddie throws his hand over his head and pushes himself through the exit.
Steve shrugs and scoops the magazine back into his hands. Maybe he’ll get to see how soft Eddie’s lips are around his dick.
2K notes · View notes
sonarspace · 5 days
Text
feral, suguru geto
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synopsis: suguru’s not sure how you’ll react to his new haircut. content: very filthy and NSFW! (orgasms, 69, cowgirl - kinda, mating press, messy) wc: 2.3k an: combined two requests so i hope my lovely anons don’t mind 😸. and as usual not proofread!
𓇼 ⋆。〰️⋆。˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆。〰️⋆。˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆。〰️⋆。˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆。〰️⋆。˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆。〰️⋆。˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞 snip, snip, snip, snip !
suguru looks up at the mirror and his identity — his once luscious long hair ... gone. immediately he regrets his decision and a frown takes home on his face.
he pulls on his hoodie and leaves the barber shop. "why did i think that was a good idea?" he scolds himself internally. "ugh, she's going to hate it. i look so stupid." he thinks as he's walking back home.
"i think it looks great," satoru chirps from the couch. he glances at satoru once before groaning, "you're just saying that so i don't feel bad. she's going to hate it man."
"no, i really am not. i think it's nice that you changed up your hair. couldn't tell the difference between you and your girlfriend when you guys would nap together," he giggles. and suguru's throwing a pillow at his face to shut him up.
he comes to pick you up at the airport. a beanie and hoodie over it to keep you from noticing his haircut for as long as he could. he sees you walk out of the airport, looking around for him. suguru's frown is immediately turning into a beaming smile when your eyes catch his and you're running into his arms.
he picks you up almost crushing you and you're a squealing mess in his embrace. you pull back and hold his face, peppering it with kisses causing him to breathe out a lighthearted chuckle.
you talk about your trip the entire ride home and he listens happily. he's glad you don't talk ask about what's going on with the beanie and hoodie combo. you come out of the shower, a small knowing smirk plays on your lips.
"don't you feel hot?" you ask him, fanning your face. "not really," he presses his lips together. 'uh oh...' an alert goes on in his brain. his heart picks up a beat at the thought of how you'll react.
you cross your arms and raise an eyebrow. "whattt" he whines when you look at him like that. instead of making him nervous it was making his dick hard. "do you have something to show me suguru?" you ask walking towards him with faux tentative steps.
"you know, don't you?" he sighs. “satoru told me,” you giggle sitting down next to him on the couch. “come on let me see,” you tell him eagerly.
“will you break up with me if it looks bad?” he asks you half jokingly, half seriously. “depends,” you joke and he scoffs. “i’m kidding baby, i’m never leaving you” you crawl into his lap.
his breath hitches slightly when you sit directly over his half hardened cock. instinctively he wraps his arms you and drops his head to your chest.
he looks back up and whispers “go ahead”. you hold your breath as you pull down his hoodie. his usual bun not visible. your hands reach for his beanie and he shuts his eyes, afraid of your reaction. “suguru, open your eyes.” you chuckle.
“can’t. just remove the beanie and tell me you hate it already,” he says. you pull off the beanie and gasp quietly but he notices and opens his eyes immediately. a slow smiles spreads on your lips and you let out a giggle in awe.
“oh my god,” you run your hand through his locks. his hair much much shorter but his bangs were still framing his face like usual. a wolf cut. “i love it,” you squeal when your eyes fall to his. “really?” he matches your tone. “yesss. so so much. it suits you so well.” you beam.
“you look really sexy.” you add on, a blush creeping at your neck at the way he squints his eyes at you. you’re sure he can feel the wetness forming in between your legs at his half hard dick slightly prodding at your clit.
“yeah?” he asks, his face close enough you could feel his breath on your lips. his nose bumps into yours. “yeah,” you confirm.
he hums moving his lips over yours. kissing you so softly. too consumed in the kiss you start grinding in his lap. your hand tangles in his hair, tugging it.
he groans lowly into your mouth as he bucks up into you. he pulls away and bites into your exposed shoulder. “please,” you whimper when he looks at you. and he’d be crazy to say no when you look at him with a cute pout.
“what do ya want?” he asks, knowing the answer. but he wanted you to voice out. you look away and he pulls back your face to look at him – his hand squishing your cheeks cutely. “now now, don’t go shy on me when you were just grindin on my cock.”
“suguru,” you whine. “darling,” he whines back. you narrow your eyes at him. “go on. say it.” he urges you. “want you…want you to fuck me.” you huff.
“see that wasn’t so hard,” he squeezes your cheeks once more making your lips pucker and places a dirty kiss. biting your lip to watch it snap back against your teeth and smiling pridefully.
he pulls off your shirt slowly. admiring your soft skin with his lips. his mouth on your boobs licking around your nipple and sucking it in so sinfully — you felt hot in your skin. you squirm in his grip as he continues assaulting your boobs.
his hand moves between your legs and slips in your pants over your panties and you moan unashamedly. “let’s see how much you’ve missed me,” he speaks with a mischievous tone. you twitch and your head falls back when his fingers move over you panties, collecting your arousal. he lets out a contented murmur. “so wet baby, i bet i could just slide in easily.” your boob now covered with his saliva. you tug his hair and he unlatches his mouth with a pop. you bring his face up to yours and he lulls his tongue knowingly. you tilt your head slightly and suck on his tongue eagerly.
his hand moves around your neck and pushes you back, halting your movements. his nose pokes into your cheek as he rubs over your clothed clit. his breathing grows heavier as if he was the one reaching his high.
without a second thought you grab his hand still in your panties and press it closer to yourself. you move against it stimulating yourself. his fingers rub your pussy while the end of his palm presses against your clit with every jerk of your hips.
your grip tightens on the back of his neck as your head falls back and you gasp a whimper. feeling your fingernails dig into his nape has him rutting his hips into your core.
his heavy breathing hits your neck and he sinks his canines into your flesh silencing himself. you feel his muffled groans against your skin as he keeps torturing your drenched pussy and unconsciously bucking up into you.
“nghh— fuck sugu i’m” you cum with a loud cry of his name – both hands on his shoulder trying to steady yourself as you twitch in his lap. at that he finally pulls your panties aside and dips his finger into your hole. he holds his breath at the feeling of your warm arousal and the clenching of your walls around his digit.
“pussy’s so greedy. did you not give her any attention?,” he purrs teasingly. his hand still wrapped around your neck tightens – cutting off your oxygen and flooding your head with a lustful fog.
he clucks disapprovingly when you shake your head. he moves his hand down to your waist and holds you as he stands up and sits you back down on the couch – on his knees between your legs.
he pulls out his finger from between your legs and pushes it into your mouth. watching with his lips parted as you make a show of sucking your juices off of it. tongue swirling around the tip of his finger and then bobbing your head down to his knuckles.
“you’re going to drive me insane,” he growls immediately pulling you into a rough kiss. his teeth nipping your lips and sliding his tongue against yours — at last tasting you and he bellows a whine into your mouth.
he pulls down your pants along with your drenched panties roughly almost pulling you with it and he squeaks a sorry making you laugh at his excitement.
he places your legs on his shoulders and admires your glistening pussy – your sweet arousal covering every inch. he almost feels overwhelmed and his heart picks up a beat. he looks back up to you and you smile at him so sweetly he almost falls face first into your cunt.
he laughs under his breath moving closer. your hole flutters in anticipation when a cold puff of his breath patters near it. your squeal quickly turns into a moan when his tongue licks a stripe up your folds. he spreads your folds and lets a string of spit fall over your hole watching it clench.
“god, so needy. mama's not been takin care of you huh?" and as if in agreement your pussy clenches again and he laughs in amusement.
"suguru," you purr. he hums licking up your folds and then teasing your clit. "wanna taste you as well," you request. and he swears he almost comes at your needy tone. he'd be a madman to say no. he pulls you down on the floor with him. laying side by side in a 69 position.
you pull down his shorts and his dick springs up and hits his abdomen. the tip's flushed pink with pre cum covering his slit, a vein running at the side of his length throbbing under your touch. it twiches in your hand and he lets out a guttural moan.
your tongue teases his slit, gathering his pre cum into your mouth and then spitting it back on his cock — pumping him once, twice, before you decide to take all of him in your mouth. he bites down at your inner thigh at the immense pleasure feels. he bucks accidentally hitting the back of your throat making you gag. "fuckkkkk," he lets out a loud, deep groan, resonating throughout the living room.
he grabs your legs and brings you closer to his mouth. breathing in your arousal, twitching in your mouth. "ahh" you moan with him still in your mouth — he picks up the pace and starts tongue fucking you. dipping his tongue inside you, feeling your warm walls taking him in excitedly.
he tries to keep himself cumming in your mouth but you make it so hard when you start massaging his balls. he pulls away from you, unlatching his mouth. "need to be in you," he speaks with a raspy urgency. his hands move to your head keeping you there for a moment before he pulls you off of him and into his lap.
he wraps an arm around you once you take hold of his dick and sink down on him so wickedly slow. you grab his neck and bring him close. a string of saliva falls against his upper lip from your mouth. you close the space between you and lick it clean and plunging your tongue back into his mouth — both of you whining at the taste of your arousals on each other's tongue.
he leans back on one hand and starts bucking up into your heated cunt. moans of pleasure spilling out of both of you — loud enough that passerbys in the hallway felt a blush creep up their necks.
"ngh ha — baby, i'm not going to last long," he warns. you rub a finger over your clit, trying to reach your high at the same time as him. his cock head nudges against your g-spot pushing you closer — the coil in your stomach tightening.
he brings your mouth to his, kissing you — wanting to feel your moans inside him. the kiss is messy with spit dribbling down the side of both your mouths, both it doesnt stop you from trying to kiss each other.
"cumming," you bite down his lip as the coil snaps and floods your senses. your fingers scratch down his chest, leaving trails of red in its wake. he halts his hips when you start clenching around him uncontrollably and in the process milking him. you grind against him slowly wanting to make the feeling last longer for him as his ropes of his cum fills you.
he wraps both arms around you and hugs you, still sheathed in your cunt. he fills you to the brim, a bit of his cum running down your thighs and falling on his own. you gather a little bit on your finger and lick it clean, keeping your gaze on him. and he's hard again.
"you're so cruel," he adds laying you down and getting on top of you. he pushes your legs up to your chest as he starts fucking you. his hips snapping against the back of your legs. he makes you cum so hard again, all you can see is white. he falls down to your chest both of you sticky from sweat and cum running your legs.
he picks you up and carries you to the bathroom. you wrap arms around each other and share endless kisses under the water. "if i knew my hair cut would have you acting like this, i would've cut it long time ago," he speaks against the kiss. you blush and hide your face into his chest, "i missed you." you feel his dick poking against your leg and you gasp "again?" and he laughs in return, "guess he’s missed you too".
𓇼 ⋆。〰️⋆。˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆。〰️⋆。˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆。〰️⋆。˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆。〰️⋆。˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆。〰️⋆。˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞
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monstersflashlight · 21 days
Text
Gym slut
Orcs x fem!human || Exhibitionism, size kink, dub-con (kinda), humiliation, sharing is caring
You’ve been watching him for months. He always arrives to the gym at the same hour as you, usually parking not too far from your car. He holds the door for you and always smiles and winks when you pass him. His tusks gleaming under the gym lights. Watching him work out is the best hobby you currently have. He’s so tall and so big. You are sure he’d tower over everyone you know. Even if his skin wasn’t the prettiest shade of green, the size of his muscles would draw your eyes to him. He’s just… massive. Twice your size if not more.
And today is the day. You are sexually frustrated and you have been carrying a gym-crush on him for months. You are going to try to have your sweet way with him. You had no plan, just horniness, as you approached him.
“Can you spot me?” You ask, looking at him from under your lashes, trying to be coy. He smirks knowingly, nodding.
He smirks, his tusks look sharp under the fluorescent lights. “Sure thing, little human.”
He helps you work out for the rest of the session, his body closer than it should, but you don’t care. You lean into him, pushing your ass against his dick as many times as possible. Pushing your boobs against his face, “accidentally” falling on his lap and slowly getting up, making sure to moan as you do so. You know you are playing with fire, his eyes are getting hotter and the outline of his dick is visible in his gym shorts. You lick your lips looking at it. He laughs, noticing.
“You want to get out of here?” He asks. You nod, anticipation filling your body.
You thought he would lead you to his car, to someplace different, but he grabs your hand and drags you to the men’s changing rooms. There’s nobody there, way too early for people to be in the gym.
He doesn’t wait for you to say anything, his mouth covering yours as he makes a quick job stripping you off your clothes. You think you hear something rip, and soon after you see your panties torn on the floor. Dang, that’s hot. He kisses your neck, pinching your nipples as his other hand travels down your abdomen, rapidly finding your clit.
He plays with your pussy for a little while, rolling his thumb over your clit as he pushes one finger inside. Then two, then three. You groan and moan as you move your hips to create friction, chasing your pleasure on his hand. His fingers are bigger than yours, so much bigger. With three of his fingers, you already feel like it’s too much. And then he pushes a fourth in, making you groan and whimper. He fucks you like that for a few minutes, not even caring that you aren’t exactly in a private area.
“Hurry up, somebody could come.” You tell him.
“I don’t care.” He chuckles, taking his time thrusting into your hungry pussy.
“I do.” You say, trying to sound stern but failing when his thumb rolls over your clit again and your words break with a groan.
“No, you don’t. You are a gym slut, you want my dick so bad you wouldn’t care if somebody came right now. Wouldn’t you?” You shake your head, but his words ignite something inside of you. “I felt your pussy flutter, you like that, don’t you? You like the idea of somebody catching us, of somebody watching you being a slut.” He punctuates the last word with a twist of his wrist, making your knees buckle under you as tremors run down your body. “I knew you’d be a little whore, I knew you’d like it rough and dirty, like the little slut you are. I’ve been watching you, flaunting your ass around, exposing your tits a bit too much. You wanted this for a while, didn’t you?” He doesn’t let you answer. “Of course you did, you’ve been dreaming of being my gym slut, right?” You say nothing, embarrassment and humiliation filling you.
You look down, avoiding his knowing eyes. He laughs, his fingers still fucking you slowly, parting his fingers slightly every once in a while. Stretching you. And then he lowers his pants, and you see what you already suspected. He’s big. Monster size big. So big it’s probably bigger than your forearm, but most of all, he’s thick. So fucking thick. There’s no way.
“I- You are too big. That’s not gonna fit.” You murmur, trying to push away from him.
He grabs you, not letting you get away, his fingers still inside of your pussy, making you groan as he twists them. “Oh yes, it will.”
“I don’t think I can do it.” He pulls his fingers out as he picks you up, one arm under your ass as he positions you right over his dick, your legs instinctively going around his hips.
“You’ve been teasing me with those leggings for months. It will fit.” Then he starts to push inside, parting your folds with his fingers as the tip of his cock breaches you. It’s too big. It won’t fit. There’s no way he’s gonna fit. But he keeps going. The bite of pain makes your pussy clench as you whimper. “Relax.” He orders. You try to, you exhale the air you were holding, feeling how the head of his cock penetrates you, making you groan.
The mixture of pain and pleasure is driving your brain into overload. You don’t know how to feel, it’s just too much. But he doesn’t care. He allows you to babble all you want, wiping your tears as they flow, but he keeps going, and going, and going. “Almost all the way in, little human.” You don’t think you can take anymore, it’s too far in, too deep, you can feel like he’s splitting you in two. You moan, tears rolling down your cheeks as he pushes the final inches inside of you. You can feel him in the back of your throat. Too much. Too deep. Too big.
He doesn’t wait for you to accommodate his size, he doesn’t wait for you to tell him it’s okay if he moves. He just starts thrusting as soon as he hits bottom, pulling almost all the way out before going back in. You feel like he’s rearranging your insides as he keeps thrusting, keeps using your whole body as a fleshlight, his hands on your hips, pushing you up and down his dick like a fuck doll.
You try to hide the embarrassment, but the way he’s using you is making it hard to hide how turned on you are. Your juices are dripping, your body accepting him inside of you, the mixture of pain and pleasure tilting the balance until the pleasure is so big you are coming around his dick. He pinches your nipple as you cum, making the climax go so high you think you can touch the stars. And he keeps going, your body goes lax in his hold, and he still doesn’t care. He keeps fucking you on his dick and grunting every time he hits bottom.
And then it happens.
You hear the door before you register what that means. “Somebody is watching, little human.” He murmurs in your ear, his dick still inside of you as he uses you like a fleshlight. Not stopping. You can’t ignore the way your pussy pulses at the thought of somebody watching. “I felt that.” He chuckles. “Wanna give him a show?” You want to say no, you want to get away, but you are drunk with pleasure and the thought of somebody watching is turning you one more than anything before. Your pussy constricts around his dick, once again telling him all he needs to know.
He turns you around, still holding all your weight with his arms, your legs up. You are folded like a pretzel, your pussy exposed completely. Your whole body exposed to the hungry eyes of the newcomer. Your gym-crush impales himself on you from behind as the person in front of you gasps. It’s another orc. Not as big as your gym-crush but still so much bigger than you. You pant, looking at him intensely as you keep being fucked. You can see the outline of his dick as he massages his hardness over his sweatpants.
The orc at your back laughs. “Look at her, bro. She’s dripping. She’s such a slut. She approached me and begged to be fucked.” You try to deny it, but you can’t talk as he keeps thrusting inside you. “And now look, her eyes are unfocused and her drool is flowing, she’s just a slut, a dirty gym slut that likes orc cock inside her pussy. Wanna touch her? She’s not gonna refuse.” You feel humiliated, but good lord if it’s not doing it for you.
The other orc approaches you as you pant, your face so flushed it burns. He lowers his head and sucks on your nipple, making you cry out as the orc behind you laughs. “See? A slut. She’s not even trying to act offended, she likes to be a slut.” The second orc laughs along with him, pinching your nipple as he plays with your tits, one hand still massaging his dick through his pants. Second orc pinches your clit next, making you whimper and try to pull away as they laugh at your inability to move away from your gym-crush hold. “Be still, little slut.” He chastises, his tone humorous. He’s having fun humiliating you, laughing at you. Your pussy clenches on his dick.
You feel embarrassed and ashamed as you moan like the slut they named you. Completely at the mercy of two big orcs. The two of them playing with your body like you are a doll made to be fucked.
Orc number two falls to his knees before you, his mouth hovering over your pussy, mere inches apart from where your gym crush is fucking you restlessly. In a heartbeat, he’s making out with your pussy, licking every inch he can reach and making your body react like a lighting just hit you. The pressure of his tusks a reminder of what they are, their otherworldliness and how much that turns you on.
Your next orgasm hits you before you can say anything at all, the two orcs giving you pleasure as you fall apart. And then you feel it, the start of something big, the telltale sign of your bladder feeling full as they keep going, not even caring that you already came. And then you are showering them, you never squirted before, but it feels too much, too fast, too oversensitive.
“Did she just squirt?” The orc behind you asks, surprised. The one between your legs nods, his face wet with your release as he licks his lips. Your whole body feels like a raw nerve as they keep going. Both of them laughing at you as they continue to ravish you.
You cum a couple times more before they stop their assault, the orc under you getting up and jerking off right over your pussy. His cum hits your clit and drips down. There’s so much of it, you feel it coating your thighs and ass before it drips to the floor. He gently pats your pussy, chuckling as you whimper. The one behind you is close behind, his thrusts going erratic as he gets as far as he can go and cums deep inside. And cums. And cums. There’s so much of it you are overflowing, his semen mixing with the one already dripping from your pussy. It’s nasty, and you feel ashamed to be enjoying it so much. You feel like the slut they call you. Like a cumslut.
“Want a turn? Her pussy is amazing, all tight and warm.” Your gym-crush asks the other, pulling out and laughing again as you whimper, both of them fixated on the amount of cum covering your pussy.
“Nah dude, I’m late for work.” He says as he pulls off his shirt and goes into the showers.
The cum is drips from your cunt, making a puddle on the floor and making you feel like the slut they called you, your pussy raw and used, his mixed cum all over it. You are sure you look like you just got the best fuck of your life.
“Oh fuck, I’m gonna be late, too.” The first orc says, following him. I lay there, over the bench as I listen to them shower, not able to move just yet.
The orc who ate your pussy doesn’t even look back at you as he exists the room, not bothering to acknowledge your presence. The other one, your gym crush, walks out the shower and dresses quietly. “You should clean that, slut.” He tells you signaling the puddle on the floor. You nod, not able to say anything. He laughs again, your embarrassment making you blush from head to toe, humiliated at his words. “I hope to see you around again, gym slut.” He says as he passes you, pinching your nipple mockingly as you lay there, unable to process what just happened.
You just had the best sex of your life, being used by two orcs who you don’t even know the name of. Maybe they are right, maybe you are a gym slut.
But you can’t wait to do it again.
Now this story has a part 2 you can read here
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luveline · 23 days
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Hi Jade!! I love your writing so much! you wrote a few fics of postprison!reid with kinda shy!reader like the one where she faints and I loved that dynamic and that Reid, do you think you could write some more? pls pls pls <3333333
cw non-consensual drug use /reader is spiked 
Spencer is quite gorgeous. He has a great smile, soft and a little shy without teeth, exuberantly bright like a commercial with teeth. He’s smiling like he can read your mind now, fishing for your hand, and taking it into both of his. Your pinky in one hand and your index the other, he wriggles your hand back and forth and laughs softly. “You don’t handle inebriation well.” 
“What?” you ask, startled. You can’t believe he’s touching you like this, casual, like he’s your boyfriend. Your hot boyfriend.
“You think I’m hot?” 
You squint at him. “What?” you ask. 
He covers your hand gently with both of his. “Nevermind. Do you want something to eat now?” 
“No.” You’ll throw up. Chunks, probably, your breakfast. And it wasn’t even a healthy breakfast. It was waffles and whipped cream and then a donut on the way to the office, Spencer will be able to tell, he’s too smart, he’s too everything. 
“I’m not that smart,” he says kindly. 
That’s a straight up lie. 
He laughs heartily, at odds with his quiet talking, and you’re so confused because it’s like he’s reading your mind? Can he read your mind? There’s so much stuff about yourself you don’t want him to know, your chest hurts thinking about it, you don’t want to tell him anything—
“I think I’ll go find you a hot chocolate,” Spencer says, the sleeve of his shirt falling down unbuttoned to his wrist as he stands. He pushes it back up. He is surprisingly underdressed today and you’ve no idea why. “Does that sound nice?” 
“I don’t think you should leave.” 
“I don’t want you to tell me stuff you don’t want to tell me,” he says. 
“But if you leave I’ll be by myself.” You sound strange to your ears. Crackly, like a garden fire.
Spencer perches himself on the hospital bed next to you. You’re sitting cross-cross on the tight white and blue sheets, waiting for something? Something was supposed to happen, you know that. A doctor was going to take your blood. You look down at the crook of your elbow to find they already have, a cotton pad medical-taped to the skin. 
“I’m not going anywhere if you don’t want me to go,” he says, taking your arm into his hands with the same care he’d shown your fingers. He lifts the corner of the tape and begins to pull it away from the direction it had been stuck in, stretching it, and removing it from you without any pain. 
“Where did you learn that?” you ask. 
Spencer holds your arm in his hand now the cotton ball is done. “Learn what?” 
You’re not interested in asking him again. Weirdly, your throat feels dry, but you won’t tell him because he’ll offer hot chocolate again and you don’t want him to go. 
“Hey,” he says, “not going anywhere until it wears off. Not if you need me.” 
How does he always know what to say? 
“You know, why don’t you get into bed and lay down for a little bit? You must be tired, sitting up. It’s so late.” His voice is a sheet of silk. 
“I thought we were going home?” you ask. 
“We can’t, bub,” —that’s a new one— “not for now. But we will tonight, I promise.” 
“Why not now?” 
He smiles sadly. “‘Cos you’re coming down, Y/N.” 
You frown. “Oh.” 
“I know.” Spencer wraps and arm around your back. “But you’re not alone.” He ducks in until your faces are almost touching. “You know? It’ll go away soon.” 
You don’t know why you say it, but you say, “You’re so nice to me. Even when you’re scary.” 
“Am I scary?” he murmurs. 
You look at him long and hard, feeling the warm rub of his thumb as he smooths a short line into your back. Spencer is intimidating, maybe, because you hadn’t known him when he got out of prison, and he's pretty like a model, or a movie star. But he isn’t scary. That’s not the right word. 
“No,” you say. “I guess not.” You pause. “I feel weird.” 
He doesn’t laugh like you, just hugs you tighter. “It’ll get better.” 
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