#don’t even. fucking touch me there’s a reason I can’t talk about that movie

[newlyy]

I saw a tiktok yesterday from a very well spoken woman on what happens to women when society breaks down. She talked about the only thing stopping men in a civilized society from doing what they want to women at large is the small, small chance that there will be repercussions and that without that threat, they rape and brutalize freely. She talked about how, in her experience as a humanitarian aid worker, she and her peers were told that if they were taken, the men would be killed and the women would wish they had been. In the comments women talked about apocalyptic movies that touched on this, with the line “we promised them women,” from 28 days later. And another where a woman was paid as a toll to allow a group to carry on. Another real life scenario where a woman was passed around a large group of soldiers. Women in the comments say that they’d prefer to die first in a disaster scenario, but worry that their bodies wouldn’t be safe either. I think of that “joke” post from a guy implying that if he were in the titanic submersible and knew everyone was going to die, he would rape whatever women were near him. I think about how I would protect myself if I found myself in that situation, or how I would protect my mother, and I couldn’t because there are so many evil men. It’s had me fucked up since I saw it and also had me reflecting on how insane it is that men are so evil to women and women can’t even acknowledge it, can’t say that they don’t like men, can’t set the very reasonable boundary of saying I don’t want to be around men. Men scare me, men are dangerous.

#rape

[sxtaep]

THE HATING GAME - JJK

working together with your biggest competition was not something you saw yourself doing often. but fucking him one late night at office? never in a million years.

pairing — jungkook x female reader

genre — angst, smut

word count — 7.2k

warnings/tags — lawyer!jk x lawyer!reader, enemies2lovers, dom!jk, sub!reader, swearing, provocation, insults, petty arguing, vague mentions of murder/strangulation, jealousy, teasing, lying, denial, tension x100, improvisation, touching, so much sarcasm, explicit smut, light bondage, grinding, neck kisses, nipple play, tit slapping, begging, fingering, dirty talk, degradation, oral (m and f receiving), cunnilingus, choking, spitting, pussy slapping, tongue fucking, dick slapping (face), edging, crying, slapping (like once), spanking, penetrative sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it guys), light pain kink, finger sucking, angry fucking, creampie, making out, cum eating, post-nut clarity, both very lost and confused by the end.

paired with this edit made by yours truly 🤭

a/n: hello and welcome to jahanara feeding into her office romance fantasies pt98583616 😭 please enjoy this very long and drawn out piece (similar to illicit desire) but more detailed, more descriptive and can be read as a stand-alone.

if you came from tiktok, hello and welcome to the dark side 😁 enjoy the long-awaited lawyer!jk au!

btw this fic has nothing to do with the book/movie called ‘the hating game’ the name just fit this ok 🙄

“We need to talk,” Jungkook’s voice causes your chest to falter as he enters his office, waiting for you to enter before shutting the door behind you and making home on the seat behind his desk.

“We can’t do this case.”

If you could burst out laughing right now, you would, but this was a professional work environment, “You invite me into your office, distracting me from my own work, just to tell me something I already know?” You make yourself comfortable in the seat opposite his, paying him a fake smile, “I don’t know why you’re panicking, we can easily get out of this. We can just say we have too much on our plate to take on a new case. There, done,” you shrug, leaning back in the seat without a care in the world.

Mr Jeon, your boss, thought it’d be a good idea to pair you up with Jungkook to work on a class case.

Why he’d even make that decision was beyond you. Neither of you got along well, trying too hard to one-up each other, spewing insults back and forth like there was no tomorrow. Failure to work well together in this case, you were both threatened with temporary suspension.

“Yeah, you’re forgetting one thing,” he says.

“What’s that?”

“My dad owns the fucking place.”

Yeah, your boss happened to be Jungkook’s dad, and honestly, it wasn’t such a bad thing. He was treated the same way as the other employees, sometimes a bit worse when it came to you.

You were his favourite employee, the absolute star of his team.

“He’s handed our current cases to another attorney so we can focus on this,” Jungkook groans, getting out of his seat to pace around your office as if he were going through a midlife crisis. He halts after a little dilly-dallying, “We should just take the suspension.”

"Pardon you, but I've got bills to pay, and I can't be having that suspension show up on my job record," you try to reason with him, but Jungkook didn't look very convinced. "Think about it this way…” you trail off, leaving your seat behind your desk to head over to him, standing confident in front of him, “When you're suspended, you're pretty much fired for an unfixed period.”

You were willing to work with Jungkook, just to get this whole thing out of the way, and there was only one way to get him on board.

Provoking him.

“I’m sure the Jeon Jungkook doesn’t wanna get suspended by his own daddy, right?” you taunt him, your voice getting quieter with each word.

Jungkook knew you were messing with him, and hated how you actually got under his skin, but with a defeated sigh, he agrees, “Fine, let’s win this case. How about we work on it over at your place? I’m sure you’ve got no plans for the weekend,” he scoffs, cocking a brow at your overly-confident form.

“I actually have a date this weekend,” you shrug, turning your back towards him ready to take your leave. “We can work on it later tonight, I’m leaving now.”

A date? There’s no way…

Jungkook is quick to rush to the door, blocking you from opening the door just as you reach out for the door knob. His arms were extended out to his sides, stopping you from leaving.

He needed to know who this guy was and why the hell he would go on a date with you of all people. “A date? Someone actually wants to sit and have dinner with you?” he questions, like it was the craziest thing he’d ever heard. “He’s gotta be deaf or blind.”

Now, with shit like this, you’d walk away, but Jungkook rendered you trapped in his office, “Listen you conceited asshole,” your index fingers goes to jab at his chest and you have to force yourself to ignore how built he was under his shirt, “I don’t like you. Never have, never will. We’re all a bit different outside of work but I’ve restricted you from seeing that side of me because you don’t deserve it.”

It was a simple and truthful explanation, you hated Jungkook beyond words, neither of you had a relationship outside of the firm. Your work persona would definitely not attract a guy with how much of a workaholic you were.

You needed this date, as a break from all the hardships these cases brought you.

Jungkook pondered your words carefully. Maybe he was a bit iffy about not having a relationship with you outside of work, he didn’t wanna be just a “work colleague” or that “annoying guy from work. He had way too much pride for that.

“Now if you could please stop hogging the door, that would be great. I don’t think I wanna spend another minute with you in your office.”

“Likewise, Y/N,” Jungkook sneers as he steps away from the door. It doesn't even register to either of you that this could be counted as an argument. How easily you both bumped heads with each other would have to come to a stop now that Mr Jeon was keeping a keen eye on you two.

As the day comes to night, you were still locked away in your office, reading away at your newly appointed case details and taking brief notes. The details were… gory to say the least, and exceptionally hard to read, but being a lawyer, you’d gotten used to it, having read the worst of the worst during your career. It was pretty much a skill to read such gruesome and ill details of murders, kidnappings and assaults with a straight face.

You were lucky not to be the only one reading up on gore so late at night, Jungkook waltzing through your office without knocking (as he always did) with a cup of coffee in his hand. He doesn’t say a word and instead sets the cup on your desk and takes a seat opposite you.

You thought you were seeing things.

Jeon Jungkook buying you coffee? That’s a first.

You don’t say anything, reaching out for the cup and bringing it close to your lips, about to take a sip, but you stop.

“You didn’t poison it, did you?”

As the man was getting comfortable in his seat, he deadpans, “Seriously? What am I, five?”

“Mmm, you act like it,” you mumble, shrugging your shoulders and taking a sip of the coffee anyway.

Thankfully, you were still up and alive.

“Have you had a look at the case yet? It’s a lot of information,” Jungkook says absentmindedly, shoving his hands into his pockets as he propped his feet up onto your desk; a move you’d witnessed on so many occasions, you’d gotten too tired to reprimand him for it.

You set the cup down and speculate over the mess of paper on your desk with a sigh, “Yeah.. I think it might be the hardest we’ve gotten yet.”

You pull out a photo of the crime scene from under the file, sliding it towards him.

It was a very clear image of strangulation on the victim, faded blood and marks of red around the victim’s neck.

All caused by his own father.

“So what are we? Defence or Prosecution?” You’d usually decide this part on your own, but you wanted to hear his thoughts first and ensure he was on the same page as you.

“Easy,” his eyes dip down to your desk, analysing the photo, “We’re defence,” he decides with no hesitation, pulling on his tie to loosen it slightly around his collar.

“What? You wanna go Defence? Seriously?” You thought prosecuting would be the most obvious route to take seeing as the evidence pointed towards the father of the victim being the obvious murderer.

“I spoke with Jimin about it earlier and he also thinks Defence would be the easier route for us.”

“Oh, so it’s just Jimin’s word against mine now?” you arch a brow at him, tilting your head to the side, awaiting a bullshit answer from him.

From the tone of your voice, Jungkook knew you were slowly getting worked up, and quite frankly, there was too much at stake to be arguing when the case hadn’t even started yet. “You know what, we’ll be the Prosecution if it shuts you up.”

As long as you got what you wanted.

“So who’s taking you on a date this weekend?”

Jungkook’s sudden question surprised you. You couldn’t think of one valid reason as to why he cared.

“Um, you probably don’t know him, but his name is Jung Hoseok—”

“—I know him.”

Of course Jungkook knew him; the pair went to law school together but parted ways after Hoseok got a job as a district attorney in the states.

He only returned a couple years back after becoming a legal director at their opposing law firm.

You regretted giving away Hoseok’s name. Now that Jungkook, your absolute nemesis, knew your potential love interest, he was probably planning to absolutely shit talk you to stop you from finding love to feed his bitter self.

“I know Hoseok pretty well, actually. He’s not really fit to be a boss if I’m being honest,” Jungkook recalls, remembering many times back in law school when leadership roles in team activities were up for grabs and Hoseok would always steer clear of them. “Surprised he’s willing to date a bitch,” he snickers, waiting for you to cuss him out.

“Listen, you’re tired, I’m tired, I don’t wanna talk about who’s a bitch and who’s fit enough to be a boss… and it’s definitely not you.”

“Oh yeah? What does Jung Hoseok have that I don’t?”

“Compassion, respect, authority, control, not to mention, he’s quite the attractive man,” you shrug with a sly smile, continuing to boast about Hoseok and at the moment, Jungkook was regretting even asking in the first place.

He could be all that and more.

“But our relationship isn’t very deeply rooted. We’re not in love or anything, we’ve only been on one date so our relationship is at the minimum right now.”

Jungkook didn’t ask for a dramatic reading of your relationship, and he’d just about heard enough, “Yeah, whatever. Can you cook? You should cook for us this weekend. You know, get the brain juice flowing or whatever it’s called,” he stands up abruptly, stretching his arms above his head before heading over to your couch, slouching against the material as he looks over at you, awaiting an answer.

“Why would I cook for someone I hate?”

“You don’t hate me,” he throws back at you, a sly smirk adorning his features, “You pick fights with me and always get competitive, because when you overcome me, it makes you feel better about yourself.”

You bite down on your bottom lip, pondering his words a little.

Maybe he was right to an extent. Nothing felt better than being put against each other and reigning victorious. Everyone in the firm knew how competitive you both were and always steered clear of any kind of opportunity to compete with you.

You sigh and roll your eyes, “Hmm… Maybe I might just have a thing for you, who knows,” you respond casually, shrugging your shoulders just to mess with him a little. “But that’s what you want, right? Another girl to fawn over you?” you taunt him, keeping your eyes trained on him as you recall the number of women that had bombarded your office earlier today after you were counted ‘lucky’ for working with Jungkook, ‘the most attractive guy in the firm.’

Now that made him fix his posture, sitting up for what could only be the most predictable thing he’d ever heard, “Oh my god, I knew it,” he laughs, almost demeaningly, “Everyone and their mum has a thing for me, you’re no different,” he shook his head in disbelief, a large grin spread across his face. “So that’s why you always argue with me, huh? Just so you can talk to me? That’s cute, especially since it’s you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you question, slightly offended.

“Because it’s gonna be fun having the Y/N, my biggest competition, falling in love with me, Jeon Jungkook. Imagine all the headlines that would make.”

God, he’s so full of himself.

As much as you hated how egotistical he was, you wanted to continue your little play act, rising to your feet and walking over to Jungkook by the couch and once near enough, you grab the end of his tie, leaning down towards him and pulling him close to your face with a deceitful smile gracing your lips, “Oh Jeon… You’re so smart, I can’t believe you figured me out so quickly…” you whisper, voice as soft as ever and something Jungkook had never heard before.

He couldn’t deny, your hold on his tie was probably the most attractive thing he’d ever witnessed, but he would never flat-out admit it to you.

Jungkook lifts his hand to gently rest against your cheek, merely trying to see just how far you’d go to keep this act up, “Mhm, I bet you like where we are now, don’t you?” he teases, his voice dropping several octaves and matching the volume of what was once your voice, now barely there as your mind went blank and his eyes proceeded to dance between your lips and your eyes.

Your cheeks had heated up drastically under his touch and you weren’t expecting him to make a comeback like that, and you really weren’t prepared to take things any further, but your pride would take a major blow if you backed out now.

Besides, the setting was perfect for that kind of moment; a near empty building, alone in the office, lights dimmed down, both tired and stressed out..

Your lips were mere inches away from his own and you could’ve kissed him if you really wanted to, and maybe, maybe you did want to kiss him—

No, that was the tense air speaking.

Just improvise.

“Mhm, this is exactly what I wanted…” you whisper, giving his tie one last tug till your foreheads were touching, “But I’m sure your hand can make-do in better places, don’t you think?”

Jungkook’s brow twitches, and you almost miss it, but it was enough of a sign to let you know he wasn’t expecting you to keep up. It wasn’t a problem for him though, the man was just as stubborn and prideful as you were, there was absolutely no way in hell he was gonna back down.

Not until you do.

“And what about yours, Y/N?” he challenges, eyes briefly peering down at your hand still gripping on the end of his tie, “I bet you’re really skilled with your hands, aren’t you?”

The real fun begins when the hand that was once resting against your cheek, drops a little lower, making home over the dip of your neck and Jungkook could feel your skin burn under his palm.

Your heart was racing as you discreetly pondered what he meant by that and once you clocked on, your body had stiffened, but you needed to seem unfazed, “Of course I am, probably more skilled than you at this point,” you shrug, gesturing towards his hand near your neck.

If he had the balls, he’d touch you somewhere more scandalous.

“Oh, is that right? You wanna bring my hands further down then, Y/N?”

Jungkook was testing you and your patience. If he thought you were gonna pussy out, he was wrong.

Your left hand grabs onto his wrist, right hand landing flat against his chest as you pushed him back against the sofa, and without even thinking of your next move, you impulsively make home on Jungkook’s lap, straddling his thighs as you adjust yourself on top of him. He watched on, slightly shocked and a little amused at the lengths you were going through just to prove a point.

With your hand wrapped around his wrist, you drag his hand down your body, slowly reaching your chest and stopping, “How about this?” you whisper, your voice on the verge of the faltering.

“Could be better,” he shrugs nonchalantly, sitting up to pull his blazer off his body, leaving it elsewhere and going back to his previous position, “Try this…”

He begins to pull his tie off around his collar, leaving it beside him for later use and then reaching up to unbutton his white dress shirt until hints of skin peeked through, “It’ll be better if you touch me yourself, but I’m sure you already know that since you’re so ‘skilled,” he says, his hands resting over your hips.

How long was Jungkook gonna keep this up? You were running out of ideas and though this was all a game, you couldn't help but feel just the slightest bit turned on, but how couldn’t you? You were sitting on his lap, your near-skintight skirt rolling up your thighs and you were almost certain he could feel the slight throbbing between your legs.

With one hand placed on his shoulder, the other reaching down to slip your hand past his shirt, your palms making direct contact with his built chest, God, you’re all talk,” you roll your eyes, leaning in to whisper against his ear, “Why don't you put your money where your mouth is?”

Jungkook throws his head back, eliciting a low chuckle, eyes meeting yours again as his palms made home on your thighs, squeezing your flesh enough to warm himself up, “If we continue, this won't be a game anymore…” he trails off, trying his absolute hardest to ignore the growing pain of his hardening cock under his slacks, “I won't be able to stop,” he continues, knowing inside he wanted this too, but was more than willing to back off if you seriously didn’t wanna do this, “Is this what you want?”

Fuck, of course you wanted this. Your body needed an output, some kind of relief. Just this once, you were willing to set aside your differences for what, ten minutes of quick relief?

You adjust yourself on his lap, your lace-clad cunt snug above his growing erection and you could've sworn you almost moaned at the contact. "Can you feel that?” you whisper, referring to the throbbing between your legs. "Is that enough of an answer for you?"

"Jesus Y/N," Jungkook nearly groans at the closeness. If he continued this game, he would cross a line that would be hard to come back from, and he was willing and ready to deal with the consequences to come.

With one swift move, he rests his fingers under your chin, tilting your head to the side to make room for his lips to attach to your neck, gently sucking and biting along your untainted neck didn't whilst he kept you distracted by the new sudden feeling of his large hands rocking your hips back and forth over his erection.

You elicit a soft sigh, eyes coming to a gentle shut as you basked in the soft pleasure, your soaked-through panties bound to leave a mark of your mess on top of him.

Jungkook pulls away from your neck, leaning back to admire your state; your cheeks were flushed pink, hair a little messy and a sheer layer of sweat adorning your chest, resulting in your blouse sticking to your body and arched a brow at you, “Take the shirt off for me, will you?”

You don’t hesitate to oblige, unbuttoning your mesh blouse with your eyes solely focused on him, and it seemed Jungkook had the same plan to just stare you down as you pulled the material off your shoulders, your well hidden assets finally coming in to view and Jungkook’s breath had hitched in his throat.

He didn’t know what came over him, or if he was just high in the moment, but you looked absolutely unreal; a simple yet stunning black lace bralette over your chest, your cleavage on full show and and it was everything he’d imagined. He inhales sharply, resisting the urge to just grab you, but Jungkook was a man of class (sometimes).

He gestured for you to remove the bralette and you did, hands reaching for your back to unclasp everything and let the material fall to your lap, freeing your tits right in front of his face and he was impulsively leaning in, briefly flicking his tongue over your hardened nipples before pulling away just to leave a ruthless smack over the expanse of your tits, revelling in the way your skin would redden and how your body would jump on top of him.

If he was feeling nice, he’d give in to you, give you exactly what you wanted, but to be frank, he wasn’t in a nice mood. He didn’t know if he hated you the way he did before all of this but God, was he gonna give you a piece of his mind..

Jungkook briefly slips his hand under your skirt and reaching between your legs, eager to feel just how soaked you were through your panties and boy, he was not disappointed.

Just mere talking and subtle teasing got you this riled up?

Clearly yes, your thighs were shuddering between his hand and you were almost embarrassed to be sitting where you were right now, “What are you waiting for?” you huff, frustration evident in your tone as you pulled yourself up to slip off your panties.

“I’m waiting for you to beg.”

“I’m not begging you—”

As soon as your panties were off, Jungkook was immediately pulling you back down onto his lap, now getting a real feel of your slick dampening his dress pants, “You’ll beg me, otherwise we can just wrap this up and call it a day…” he trails off, firmly gripping your hips as he pressed you down harder on his hardening cock, forcing a quiet moan to slip past your lips.

“Come on, Y/N… you know what you want, just tell me,” he whispers, eyes meeting yours and drinking in the irritation in them.

God, he loved irritating you.

Giving in just this once wouldn't hurt you, but you weren’t exactly the begging type of person, “I need your hands…” you manage to muster, your poor cunt practically leaking over his slacks.

“That’s not how you ask nicely,” Jungkook taunts you, throwing in a disappointed sigh, “Enlighten me, will you? How bad do you want them?” He leans back against the sofa, his hands rolling the hem of your skirt up over your thighs so he could have a clear cut view of your pussy, swallowing sharply once his eyes catch a glint of your flesh shining under the dim lights.

"Fuck you.." you grit. Jungkook stating the obvious was embarrassing for you; who would've thought Jeon Jungkook would be the reason for your desperation.

You could tell from the tone of his voice that he was enjoying tormenting you, and today was not gonna be the day you beg for him; you had far too much pride for that.

Instead of using your words, you grab ahold of his hand, guiding it down your body and between your legs. Once the pad of his fingers were against your clit, you wasted no time in rocking your hips against them. "I— I want your fingers inside me," you whisper against his ear, hoping he’d cut you some slack.

"Oh Y/N..." Jungkook shook his head disapprovingly. He quickly pulls his hands away to fetch his tie laying next to him on the couch.

You knew exactly where he was going with this and you were right; he’d grabbed your wrists and forced them behind your lower back, using his black tie to restrain your hands, and all you could do was shuffle on top of him, “I’d be careful when moving, wouldn’t want you to fall back,” he taunts you, a grin plastering his face as he pulled on the restraints one last time.

Jungkook doesn’t even spare you a minute to get used to the tie, his hand making home between your legs once again as he moved the pad of his fingers up and down against your swollen clit agonisingly slow, “Don’t you know your manners, Y/N? What happened to saying ‘please’ when you want something?”

You were falling apart on top of him, your hands clawing at nothing as you tried to remain composed. You felt absolutely hopeless, and giving in didn’t seem so bad right about now.

“I fucking hate you,” you seethe through gritted teeth, grinding yourself against his fingers seeing as his lace was too slow for your own liking, “Please, Jungkook…” it physically hurt you to say those words, feeling your cheeks swell up in embarrassment, “I wanna fuck myself on your fingers…”

Most certainly pleased by your answer, he doesn't waste any time, thrusting his index and middle finger into you so fast, a gasp was ripped from your throat. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it? Only a real slut would beg to get fucked by a guy she hates.”

His hands began to push in and out carefully, admiring your eventual fucked out state, "Fuck yourself on them, pretty," Jungkook instructs, gradually speeding up the rhythm of his fingers. "Or do you want me to curl them?"

It was a rhetorical question, already feeling him curl his fingers between your soft walls as you helplessly clenched around him.

It felt so good.

It was unfortunate your body was close to giving in, struggling to stay up on top of him but you tried to muster as much strength as you could to keep going, drowning Jungkook's digits in your slick as your hips moved up and down on his fingers at a similar pace to his wrist, “Jeon, I can’t..

"Oh? But you can argue with me, call me names, and make a fool of me in front of my colleagues?" Jungkook taunts, speeding up his fingers to a torturous fast pace that was sure to bring you closer to your high. "You can do all of that, but you can't fuck yourself on my fingers? What a pathetic bitch.”

He reaches behind you to untie the restraints binding your wrists together, letting the material drop to the floor behind you before he was picking you up and carrying you over to your desk, setting you down on the surface and pushing you to lie back ever so slightly as he dropped to his knees between your legs.

He split your legs apart, audibly groaning at the sight of your swollen pussy; clit peeking out and your tight hole desperately clenching around nothing. “Fuck… Look at that desperate pussy..” he mumbles to himself, fixing your legs over his shoulders as he leaned in, pressing the flat of his tongue against your cunt.

A content sigh left fell from your lips as he used the tip of his tongue to toy with your sensitive bud, causing your thighs to shake around his head. The repetitive movement had your body tensing and the moans you’d been keeping to a minimum now at the max.

“So— so good..” you whimper, gazing down at him. With your hands free, they moved to grab at his dark locks, shoving his head further between your legs till you could feel his nose repeatedly nudging against your clit and good god, Jungkook would go to hell and back to drown in your pussy for eternity.

He let out a muffled groan, sliding his tongue between your folds and sucking on your clit like his life depended on it, but he needed to pull away if he wanted to live to experience that.

When Jungkook pulled away, you whined, but he wasn’t gone for long, suddenly delivering a harsh slap to your cunt that made your body jump and left your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

It stung, but it felt so fucking good.

Pleased by your reaction, he did it again, this time only harder, “Oh, so Miss Lawyer likes getting her slutty pussy slapped?”

Before you could even respond, Jungkook was biting on his bottom lip, not wasting another second before he’d spat right over your aching cunt, forcing you to arch your back off the desk as he watched the bead of spit trail between your folds in awe.

He leaned in again, shoving his tongue into your aching cunt and feeling your walls clench around the wet muscle almost as if you didn’t wanna let go and he found it beyond amusing, pulling away almost immediately just to spite you as he stood up to tower over your body; mouth glistening from all the slick and you couldn’t deny he looked like a hot mess.

What you didn’t see coming, was Jungkook grabbing your face, slapping you one as he squished your cheeks within his hold, forcing your lips to pucker as he spat into your mouth, the mixture of his saliva and your slick seeping down your throat as you swallowed with no hesitation.

He chuckled deeply, “Should’ve known an A class whore like yourself was into this shit. What do you think the jury would think about that, huh?” He continues to tug on your face, forcing you to keep your eyes on him so he could watch you break down before him.

Jungkook pulls you up and off the desk, standing tall and confident in front of you as you tried to regain a steady composure, almost stumbling.

“I don’t know how they’d feel knowing the slutty prosecutor got on her knees for the heir of this firm,” he starts, reaching out to wrap his hand around your neck firmly and pulling you towards him, “We should risk it and find out, huh?” he breathes out against your lips, low and hoarse and you had to squeeze your thighs shut from the flutters you were feeling between your legs.

“I’d rather throw dirt in my eyes than suck your dick,” you spit, shamelessly lying through your teeth and Jungkook immediately knew you were playing games.

“You think you’re funny, huh?” His hands shift from your neck to the back of your head, gripping a hand full of your hair and urging you to get on your knees and you did exactly that, making it easy for him to get you down as you tried your best to conceal the knowing smile growing on your lips but all you did was lick your lips up at him, anticipation clouding your eyes as you gulped.

The subtle action alone had his dick jumping in his slacks and he refused to wait any longer before unbuckling his belt and pulling pants halfway down his thighs, leaving a thick and oblivious imprint of his cock straining against his boxers right in front of your face.

You didn’t realise it, but your body was inching towards him and Jungkook took notice straight away, doing you the favour of pulling his cock out from its confines to stand tall and hard before you.

You were meaning to reach out for him, but he beat you to it, wrapping a strong hand around the base of his cock as he pumped himself between his fist a couple times, squinting at the little bead of precum eventually dripping down the base of his cock and you could only stare on in awe.

“You want my cock down your throat, huh?” he taunts deeply, moving forwards so he could guide the tip of his leaking cock across your face, nudging your cheek and avoiding all contact with your mouth.

Right where you wanted him most.

“Say it,” he lightly slaps the tip of his dick against your cheek, dragging it down to your lips but not yet pushing in, “Say you’re a cock-hungry bitch who wants her face fucked by the man she hates so much…”

Submission was never your thing. You always showed yourself out to be a woman who always stood her ground, never taking shit from anyone. But now it was your worst enemy, proving you wrong on all of the above.

“I’m a cock-hungry bitch..” your words are there, but no confidence within them, “Who wants her face fucked by the man she hates so much,” you mumble against the tip of his dick, hoping he’d give in to you.

Jungkook shrugs, “Could be better, but what more do I expect from a whore?” He suddenly pushes the tip of his cock past your lips, taking you by surprise as he groaned deeply, basking in the warmth of your mouth as he slowly eased himself into you inch by inch until he completely bottomed out.

You couldn’t handle his immense size, already struggling to breathe and he hadn’t even moved yet and tears were brimming your eyes.

“Tight fucking fit…” he seethes, slowly pulling out only to slam back into your mouth with brute force, each thrust pushing against the back of your throat and though you started choking, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop him. You didn’t want him to stop; allowing him to use your head as assistance.

“Fucking made for my cock, aren’t you? A perfect fit..”

The only sounds that could be heard were Jungkook’s groans and the illicit sounds of your gagging and spluttering, a mixture of spit and precum leaking out the sides of your mouth.

"Gonna make better use of your pretty mouth.. and dumb you up so you'll never be able to throw all that fucking attitude at me again.." With no prep whatsoever, he impales your throat again, this time keeping your head at the very base of his cock, your nose brushing against his abdomen as your throat clenched around him, squeezing tightly to the point you could feel him throb.

“If this is the only way to shut you up, I’ll have you on your knees more often,” he looks down at you, watching the woman who stood so high on her fucking imaginary pedestal, now kneeling between his legs with her mouth stuffed full of his cock like a needy bitch.

Jungkook was damn near certain he almost came from the sight of you alone so he suddenly pulled you away from him, a thick and heavy string of precum connecting your lips to him leaving you a gasping, teary eyed, heaving mess.

“You’re so fucking annoying,” you grumble, slightly annoyed by the sudden withdrawal as you hastily stood onto your feet.

“Oh, Y/N.. What am I gonna do with you?” he questions, sarcasm lacing his voice as he took a couple steps towards you just to grab your arm and turn you around; pushing you down front first against the glass surface of his desk.

You could barely make out what he was about to do, the side of your face pressed up against the glass but God, he was so close behind you, you couldn’t help but push back against him a little, whimpering at the sliver of skin-on-skin contact with him and Jungkook was all for your eagerness.

He spits against the palm of his hand, using the heel of his palm to reach down between your legs and massage your weeping cunt, briefly letting his digits dip into you before replacing them with his cock.

At last.

“Oh— fuck.. Jeon—!” You’re more vocal now than you were ever before, his size deeming you absolutely vulnerable as he pushed into you slowly. The stretch was beyond humane, he was practically splitting you open and your tears were suddenly making another appearance.

Jungkook felt like he was going through the seven stages of grief; not expecting you to be so tight around him and already so addicting, it was like a revelation for him.

“Pussy made just for me..” he groans, a palm aiming to land a harsh smack against your ass cheek, making you jump and the ongoing stinging sensation turning the affected area a light shade of pink which was bound to darken overtime. “All fucking mine—” he grits harshly squeezing the flesh of your ass as he continued to thrust in and out of your sopping cunt, “Fuck, look at your tight pussy just sucking me in… bet you like me shoving into your cunt, huh?”

“Uhghhh yes, yes! I love it so much!”

You loved the pain.

Each powerful thrust caused your body to repeatedly shift against your desk, again and again his dick slamming so deep into your guts you wondered if it were even possible to experience such a thing.

You could tell he was giving you his all; his muscles were tense, every vein in his body was popping out just so he could take out his frustrations on you. He dealt with your ass for three years; constant bickering, competitions, insults, but fuck him, if he knew you what got you going, he’d have fucked you way sooner.

“Bet you wished I’d come in and fuck you at some point, huh?” A smirk was lingering over his features, knowing well what your answer was.

“God— yes!” Your back forcibly arches against your will as you nod desperately.

Truth be told, you did look forward to his visits in your office just to argue with you. Arguing with an attractive man who looked even hotter when he was mad?

Of course.

“And everytime I’d leave your office, you’d sit in your chair with a wet fucking pussy all day, hoping I’d come back in just to fuck you, right? But God, why didn’t I do that?” he mentally curses himself, digging his fingers into your hips as his pace faltered, indicating he was losing traction.

“Fuck you for not making a move,” you hiss through tears, gripping at the edge of your desk for stability as his thrusts became sloppy and messy.

He lands another harsh smack against your ass, making you help in surprise, “Shut the fuck up, I’m not done,” he seethes, picking up the pace and knocking all other backtalk out of your lungs, "Every damn day, I've had to deal with your shit; talking down on me—" his words laced with anger as he slams in to you, "—flaunting your stupid awards in my face and walking around like you own the fucking place."

He abruptly pulls out, turning you over to lay back on the desk whilst he spread your legs apart, his cock slipping into you once more as his free hand settled a harsh slap against your tits, “Now I have you under me, crying on my cock like a little bitch. Where'd that confidence go, huh?"

You couldn’t bring yourself to respond, to busy doing exactly as he’d stated. Your mind was hazy and your body was going numb, all you were capable of was squeezing your walls tightly around his cock as a sign to say you were close.

“Oh you’re close, huh?” Jungkook brings his hand down to scoop up the stringy mess connecting both your bodies, “We can’t have security walk in, can we?” lifting his hand again to shove three slick coated digits into your mouth in a bid to silence your moans as you came. “Come all over my cock like you were born for it.”

And thank god he did what he did because your pleasure filled cries would have woken up the entire city.

Your tongue lapped at his fingers, sucking off whatever was there before he pulled them out of your mouth, admiring the way they glistened under the dim lights.

You stared up at him in a daze, chest heaving and tits bruised red as he thrusted back and forth a couple more times before finally reaching his orgasm with a low bellow.

“Fuck…” he groans to himself and you could feel his warmth completely fill you up, some of it too much to the point white was leaking out of your sensitive cunt as he drained himself empty into you.

Once Jungkook was certain he was done, he slowly pulled out, his cock falling limp and his mess now prominent between your legs, noticing it was all slipping out so he did you the duty of using his fingers to push as much as he could back into you, the sensitivity making you shudder, “Can’t let it go to waste,” he chuckles, bringing his fingers up to his lips to sneak a taste.

It was the hottest thing you’d ever seen and he was pulling you to sit up on the desk before grabbing your case with both hands and kissing you with all his might.

It was unexpected but you were too in the moment to stop him. You could just about make out the distinctive taste of yourself and him on your lips and all you were wondering was how the hell you’d both come back from this.

Jungkook bit down on your bottom lip, dragging it out towards him before letting go and watching the plumpness bounce back, red and swollen like he’d left his mark on you.

“What did we just do..?” you whisper, finally drinking in the state of yourself and the absolute state of your office, papers everywhere and the smell of sex surrounding you.

Jungkook didn’t know what came over him, but he needed to reassure you one thing; “This probably wasn’t ideal but I don’t regret it,” he says, eyes glued to yours and curious to know if you felt the same way.

You didn’t know if you felt the same way, but you certainly weren’t feeling bad about it.

“You don’t have to say anything now, or put a label on it or anything, you can take your time,” he tells you softly, pulling away from you to pull his pants back up and tuck himself away. He was unsure whether you wanted to be alone or wanted to stay in his presence, but he figured he’d do what was safest, “Want me to clean you up and walk you to your car?”

Your hands adjusted the skirt that had been rolled up your hips, pulling it down to shield your thighs and the mess as you shook your head, “Oh no, that’s okay, I can take it from here,” you reply, this time giving him a genuine smile for his chivalry, one he’d never actually seen on you before and he wished he could see it more often.

Jungkook nodded and went to collect his shirt by the sofa, throwing it over his shoulder and heading for the door, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning then for some case work.”

“Yeah, you too…”

He curtly nodded and headed out of your office with a sigh. He didn’t wanna leave you alone after that, but he wanted to avoid any intrusive/pushy questioning and awkwardness.

How the hell would you both ever come back from this?

perm taglist: @aliceaflor5-blog @kookiecrumb @jjkeverlast @prettyghost @kooliv @koobsessed @gimmethatagustd @pb-n-juju @aslias17 @ririlovesangst @kootonins @taehyungseggs @dewamused @jungshook7 @jiminsneckkisses @moonfaery @fragmentof-indifference @hoseokteardrop

Please do not repost my works onto any platforms.

#sxtaep #the hating game #bts smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook oneshot #jungkook imagine #bts angst #bts x reader #jungkook fanfic #bts drabble #bts fanfic #jungkook drabble #jungkook

[strawberrysturniolo]

never grow up part four

summary: after not speaking for a week, chris finds himself trying to confess his feelings to sunny, while she’s trying to move on from him

part three

part five

It’s been a week since I last talked to Chris. Since he walked out on me. 

It’s safe to say I was a complete wreck that night. I bawled my eyes out. I couldn’t imagine being in that state of stress and frustration with the only person who seems to understand me above others. It’s like that connection between us has been broken with such ease, not a care in the world from his end. He’s made that quite obvious.

I’ve been so embarrassed for wanting to push for something between us, until I remember how he made me think he wanted that too. It’s not embarrassing for me to be convinced of something else by someone I trusted, but I guess I learned my lesson for the future. 

It was one thing for him to not say goodbye when he left my apartment, rather than him just getting up and leaving angrily. But what makes it worse is he went back to LA without a word, without a real goodbye. 

It’s for that reason that I don’t bother telling him I miss him. He clearly didn’t care enough to say goodbye before he flew back to the other side of the country.

What makes it all worse is that I didn’t even find out from him or someone in his family.

I found out from a fucking Instagram story that Nick posted with Chris and Matt at an event. So who the fuck even knows when they actually got back there. They seem to be settled in again pretty fucking nicely. 

I’ve tried to occupy myself with work and school to keep my mind off how I’m feeling. Somehow along the way, I managed to agree to go on a date. 

I usually don’t care to randomly date people. Maybe that’s why I felt so safe and confident in Chris. I’ve known him forever, and I trusted that he would take care of me and we would work. 

We didn’t even get the chance to try before he turned into a stranger again. 

There’s nothing wrong with the guy in front of me. I just don’t think this is the right kind of guy for me. He’s very proper, clearly coming from a rich family that taught him about fine dining and expensive jewelry since he was born. He bought me a fancy glass of wine though, so I can’t complain too much. At least I can get a little tipsy tonight. I know better than to drink too much on a first date in case this guy turns out to be a creep and I’m too drunk to notice. 

“So,” he starts to say, then he takes a sip of his wine, raising a hand to the waiter and silently requesting another. That pisses me off. “Who’s your best friend?”

Not the 20 questions type ass question. 

Well, fuck. That one hurt. 

“Um– He– They don’t live here anymore,” I finally say. “I met them when I was a toddler. I don’t even remember it, I just know from family stories. I think they were the first friend I ever made. I don’t remember ever not having them in my life. They were always there.”

I continue to refer to Chris as they rather than he. I don’t know this guy well enough yet, and something tells me if I say my best friend was a boy, he’d start asking more questions about him that I don’t want to answer. 

“They were always there,” I continue. “By biggest supporter, best friend, number one defender. We started to share families. I was always welcome unannounced– actually, they liked it when I came over without mentioning it first. It made them feel even more loved, is what they said.” 

I need more wine.

I was 16 when I went on my very first date. Chris was with a girl that night. She came over to their house, and had a double date sort of thing with Matt and his girlfriend. While I was at the movie theater on my date, he started to get weird. He was suddenly touching my legs, and trying to kiss me. I ran to the bathroom and called Chris, and even though I knew he couldn’t drive, I knew he would try to rescue me.

“Hey–”

“Chris. I’m at the movies with Ryan.”

My words came out in a rush, desperation clear in my tone.

I could hear him leave the room, practically running to where he could be alone and hear me clearly. “I know. What’s wrong?”

I took a deep breath. “He’s being weird.”

There’s a pause.

“How weird?”

“I’m in the bathroom to get away from him. That kind of weird,” I clarified. “I’m sorry. I know you’re with people, but can you please–”

“We’ll be there soon. I’ll text you when I’m outside,” he agreed without a second thought.

Once him and Matt arrived, Matt dropped us off at a McDonald’s near their house before going back to his own girlfriend. I never really asked what happened with the girl Chris was with. I guess I assumed they took her home while they were on their way to get me. 

To cheer me up, Chris treated our shitty McDonald’s dinner as a friendly date. He made me laugh, made me feel safe again, and then we went home and watched a movie in his bed.

He was always ready to rescue me, no matter what he was doing. 

Suddenly, my phone rings on the table, violently vibrating and disrupting our conversation. 

I apologize as I pick up my phone, trying to mute it, until I see the caller ID. 

Without hesitating, I get up from the table. “I have to take this.”

I practically run outside so I’m alone when I take the call, trying to get there before he hangs up. I press the phone to my ear, and my heart sinks when I finally hear his voice again.

“Hey,” he says.

My voice is delicate when I respond. “Hi.”

“I just wanted to–” he starts to say, getting right to the point. A car horn blares as someone in front of me swerves near another car. He stops his original point and asks, “Where are you right now?”

“Outside of a restaurant. I got up when you called.”

“Oh. Who are you with?”

“Just– Um– I’m not–” I stutter. “It’s just someone I know.”

He must have been laying on his bed, because I hear him shift. There’s a slight rumble like he was moving around, the sound of his bed sheets against his body as he sits up. “Is it a guy?”

I don’t know what to say. I could lie and say that I’m with family, or that it’s a networking dinner, but my silence doesn’t help my case. Not to mention that I panicked and settled on ‘someone I know.’

“You’re on a fucking date?!” he shouts.

“Why are you yelling at me!”

“I’m calling to tell you that I want to be with you and you’re on a fucking date?!”

He wants to be with me.

I don’t even get to be happy about that before I’m trying to defend myself. He’s so fast to get angry with me, not giving me a chance to think about anything other than the fact that he’s being incredibly unfair. 

“How was I supposed to know that’s why you were calling?” I ask. I start pacing in front of the restaurant, weaving through people walking around me. “We haven’t spoken in a week!”

“Yeah,” he says, responding in a tone that is so dry, it makes me worried for what’s to come next. “A week ago you were all over me saying that you love me and you want a relationship and you’re already on a date with someone else?”

My voice goes soft. “What were you trying to achieve? Do you want a relationship with me?”

“Well, no but–”

“Oh!” I jump in. “So you want me, but not enough to be in a relationship with me, but enough to where if I go out with someone else who wants to be with me, I’m the bad person because then you’d get to call that cheating even though you and I don’t want the same thing. You just want me to be available if and when you decide you want the same thing as me.”

He doesn’t want me. He just wants me to be there in case that changes. With how indecisive and low commitment Chris is, I don’t want to wait around for someone that isn’t sure of me. Especially me, when we’ve had so much love for each other for our whole lives. 

“You’re so fucking dramatic,” he scoffs. “I hope your date can handle it.”

“So fucking what if I’m on a date!” I fight back. “It shouldn’t mean anything to you!”

“You’re right, it doesn’t matter. So I’ll do you one better.” I take a breath, holding it. I’m terrified for what he’ll say next. “I fucked someone last night.”

I feel my heart stop beating. Then it drops into my stomach.

My chest feels empty. It’s like I’m just a shell of a human being, but nothing inside it functions anymore. That about killed me. 

Tears well in my eyes, and I know if he saw me right now, he would hate that he made me cry. He was always the person to wipe my tears, and now he’s the cause of it. 

I want to scream. I want to hate him. But I never could. No matter how much I try.

“So you decided to fuck someone else. Then you called me to confess the love you think I want from you, then you get mad that I don’t want to wait around for someone who isn’t sure about me and I went on a date, all of which you were going to pursue without telling me that you fucked someone last night!” I don’t bother concealing my volume or my vocabulary even though I’m standing around plenty of people. They can all hear me fighting with Chris. “And you’re going to get mad over a date, when you fucked someone?!”

He doesn’t say anything for a minute. I have to actually check that the call is still ongoing and I didn’t lose him somehow, or that he didn’t hang up on me after calling him out.

“You know what?” he snaps. “You’re right. This was a waste of time. Enjoy your date,” he forces himself to say. I know he wants nothing more than for my date to go badly. I don’t tell him that it already was before he called. 

“Yeah, I will. And guess what Chris?”

“What?”

“You can go fuck yourself, but knowing you, you’ll probably get someone else to handle that for you.”

The line goes dead when he hangs up on me.

I’m left standing outside in shock.

I don’t know how long I’ve been standing in one place, burning tears dripping slowly down my cheeks. I finally snap out of it when I feel raindrops on my skin. Seconds later, the rain starts coming down harder.

Pretty ironic that he called me Sunshine because when he was down it always got sunnier, and now I’m standing in a downpour. 

tag list: @secret-sturniolo @chrisloyalgf @strnilolo @qwertytit @55sturn @sleepysturnss @creamoncreamoncream2 @sturnvvz @swaggygirlboss123 @angelworldspost @patscorner @ducksturniolo @mattitties @luv4kozume @mbbsgf @freshloveforthefit @ripmattitude @gamermattsgf @strniololoverr @urmom2bitch @sturnitup @luvmila444 @st7rnioioss @sturniolosreads @pepsiskiess @alorsxsturn @sturniolopepsi @sturnsgasoline @sturns-posts @sstvrnioloo @strawberrymilk4k @nickmillersn1gf @milesfordays11 @l9vesick @mattsturnzzz09 @mattnchrisworld @sturniolovoid @aerunn @sturniolosmind @oliviasturniolo21 @carolsturns1 @scarssturniolo @stuniolobbg @sturniolowhore @christurniolomyman

#Spotify #strawberrysturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets

[a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual]

Nimona headcanons just cause

Nimona and Ambrosius are both like sentient space heaters 

Nimona runs hotter than the average human being because obvi

But Ambrosius is a whole nother ballpark 

I just know this man hates summer more than the average person

Poor baby is just a miserable sweaty clammy mess and if anyone tries to touch him during summer he threatens to bite them

Nimona and Ambrosius always refuse to let the ac get higher than 60 degrees and Bal suffers 

Bal should be classified as a damn reptile 

Poor baby has terrible circulation

It’s bad enough that Ambrosius has dragged him to the doctor multiple times 

He clings to Ambrosius and Nimona in the winter because this man is constantly freezing 

I just know he’s a damn menace the second it gets a little chilly

This little brat will shove his hands up Ambrosius’ shirt the second he gets home to “warm up”

And he’s got a metal hand so it’s twice as cold

Ambrosius has been woken up from a deep sleep by freezing hands or freezing feet and will whine about how it feels like waking up in an ice bath

One time Ambrosius walked into the living room to find Bal chasing Nimona around while they were screaming “Frosty the snowman is trying to kill me with his icicle hands” 

Ambrosius is weirdly good with all kids he’s been described multiple times as a “natural parent”

Does he like kids…. That’s up for debate 

Like he doesn’t hate them if their parents raised them right but if that kid is a little bully then fuck no he doesn’t like them 

Nimona is also really good with kids 

He’s a little cautious around elementary school kids cause you know trauma and has weird beef with all middle schoolers 

Bal is fucking terrified of babies 

One time someone asked him to hold their baby and then walked off and which sent him into a panic attack 

He’ll go on hour-long rants about how fragile are and how he can’t be trusted with something that can suffocate if you don’t lay them down the wrong way

He’s okay with elementary school kids and doesn’t mind middle schoolers but he has massive issues with highschoolers for some reason 

A high school once asked him to visit and give a talk to the students and Ambrosius had to take his laptop away before he emailed them back saying “I’d rather chop my other arm off”

Honestly I think even though Nimona craves stability she also needs freedom 

So every couple of weeks she’ll go on little solo adventures 

She keeps the boys updated constantly about where she is but she never tells them when she’s coming back because she doesn’t even know 

Most of the time she’ll come back when she wants a homecooked meal (and when she misses the boys)

The boys are pretty used to this routine so they aren’t surprised anymore when they come home to a note saying she’ll be gone for a bit

They also aren't surprised when he climes through their window at 2 in the morning to wake them up and demand food 

Could he make it himself? Absolutely 

Does he want to? Fuck no where’s the fun in that 

Plus he knows no matter how much the boys complain about messed up sleep schedules and how he “gave them a heart attack” they'd rather be woken up in the middle of the night so they can make sure he’s healthy and fed 

When they do come home the boys “force” them into a sleepover in the living room where they eat a stupid amount of junk food and watch old horror movies  

And they call out of work so they can catch up and learn everything that can't fit in a text

#nimona 2023 #nimona movie #nimona headcanon #nimona #ballister boldheart #ambrosius goldenloin #ballister x ambrosius #goldenheart #I am Ambrosius #but I'm also Bal #I have terrible circulation but I also hate summer #summer can suck a dick #Nimona is like a cat #they come and they go as they please #the boys never try and stop them #cause they know it's not their place #oh they miss her for sure #and they worry about her all the time #but they also know she needs her freedom

[manicpixiedreamcurl]

No Happy Endings (Unless Fairy Tales Come True).⁺˚*･☾

Pairing | Eddie Munson x reader

Warnings | 18+ only, minors DNI. Porn with smatterings of a plot. Cheating (reader cheats with Eddie as do others), oral (female receiving), protected P in V sex, kinda sad Eddie but only for a bit, brief mention of uncomfortable sexual situations, readers first orgasm, little bit of Eddie with somebody else. Some generalisations about gender and sex for plot reasons.

Word Count | ~9,300

Request | Once upon a time I made an offhand comment in the tags of an ask saying it’s possible Eddie’s fucking lots of cheerleaders behind their boyfriend’s backs. Then an anon threw it right back at me and it’s haunted my thoughts ever since.

A/N | The initial comment was offhand. Reader is not a cheerleader, she’s just pals with cheerleaders. Also cheating is bad etc etc. I also don’t really think Eddie would do this, but I’m taking my Eddie just wants to be loved thing to its logical endpoint; Eddie is become slut, destroyer of pussy.

.⋆｡⋆✮˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆. 

Can we-,” she groans softly, biting her shiny lip as she looks at him over her shoulder. “Can we, uh uh, turn the music off?”

Eddie’s gaze shifts from watching himself disappear inside her to the flushed cheeks of her face, her long fluttering eyelashes. 

“No, we can't."

"But-" Eddie grasps her cheerleader ponytail, silky in his fist, and pushes her face forward into the mattress, whatever she was going to say now muffled by his sheets. 

She doesn't seem to mind. That little squeak she makes when she's close starts picking up when Eddie grinds a little rougher into her, liking what was supposed to be a silent punishment for her request 

Eddie has to hold back a scoff, has to stop himself from leaning over to turn the dial on his stereo as far right as it’ll go, instead. 

He likes her, as much as he can like the sexually frustrated popular girls he brings back here. She just ignores him in the halls, instead of overacting disdain for him in front of her jock boyfriend’s face. 

That, and her pussy clasps his dick like it’s in love. 

But that’s the new Iron Maiden album she’s talking about, and he’ll be damned if he turns it off for a girl who’ll kiss her boyfriend tomorrow morning with the mouth that moaned for him tonight. 

In the next thirty seconds she cums around him with a shudder, back arching, presenting her ass to him like she wants it spanked. But he's not allowed to do that, lest her boyfriend bend her over tomorrow and find a lasting mark in the shape of Eddie's hand, darker where his rings are. 

That's the image that makes him cum, the real reason he does this. Some time this week or next, the basketball player that thinks this girl loves him will call Eddie or one of his friends a freak, maybe shove him in the hall or write dumb shit on his locker. And it won't hurt like it used to. What pain there is will be buried deep under the thought that now gets Eddie through the monotonous nightmare that is high school, that lets him grin in the face of almost every mouth breathing neanderthal that thinks Eddie's the dirt under their white sneakers.

I fucked your girlfriend stupid. 

Eddie rolls off her and settles back into his pillows with a long sigh, tugs the condom off himself carelessly. He searches his bedside table half blind, flicks the lighter when he finds it, smoke curling up from the new cigarette between his lips. All the while, he listens to the sounds of a woman dressing. Rustling fabric and whirring zips, the drag of a hairbrush through touch-messy locks.

Eddie doesn't watch. It's not for him. 

He doesn't get the intimacy of watching a pleasured woman put herself back together. No coquettish looks over naked shoulders or flirty wiggling hips. Neither does he get the kisses, or the girlish smiles and shy waves in hallways. He doesn't carry anyone's books, or cuddle up with take out and a movie. Eddie doesn't get gentle hands in his hair or a lap under his head.

He doesn’t even get his name, cried out in pleasure, from these girls who wish he was someone else.

But he does get their moans, real and desperate. And that's enough. What more could he expect?

"Hey, so, I thought I could maybe come by next week, around the same time?" 

Eddie glances over. She's pristine now, like he’d never touched her. Not for the first time, he spies the little cross around her neck and doesn’t bother holding back the scoff.

"Sure," he nods, used to this routine from her and all the others. She'll get cold feet around the three day mark, tell him she has to stop doing this. Then she'll show up anyway, looking sad and guilty until he fucks it all away. Eddie takes a long drag and watches her stand there awkwardly, wanting to leave but not wanting to be rude. 

Then she remembers who he is. "Okay, bye then." 

She's out of his room in a second, heading to his front door at pace. If Eddie feels a prickle of hurt in his chest, he knows just how to beat it away. 

"Tell Rory I said hi!"

.⋆｡⋆✮˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.  

Eddie's face hasn't lost the pleased smirk since you approached him after school. 

It appeared the second after you asked, in a way that you’d clearly practised, if you could buy from him. Standing there by his van, surrounded on all sides by your classmates finding their own way home, he’d fixed you with a look. Dark eyes you'd never properly taken in scanned you shamelessly. With his tongue pressed to his top lip, Eddie crossed to the passenger door and opened it with a swing and mock gentlemanly gesture. "Alright, hop in. We'll get you what you need."

Now, sitting to his right with your knees pressed together nervously, you can't help but keep looking over at him for seconds at a time. You’d thought that by this point you’d have convinced yourself not to go through with it. That sitting next to him this long would get it through your head that this is Eddie Munson, and even considering this is crazy.

He’s not your boyfriend. That should be the first thing you think, but instead you’re caught up in the knowledge that last week you would not have looked at him twice, in a relationship or out of it. They would never have considered going home with Eddie, and neither would any of your friends. Or so you thought, before a group of them, cheerleaders all, had admitted what they’d done with him. In his trailer, in the woods behind school, in this van.  

“It’s not the fifties anymore!” Stacey had said, smile all pity for your clear confusion. “We all love our boyfriends.” This had prompted a chorus of agreement from the five other girls who’d admitted to meeting with Eddie. “But it’s not like we’re going to be with them forever. Why not get some experience with somebody…good? Even if he is a complete loser in literally every single other way.”

You’re trying to wrap your head around it as you look at him. You hadn’t thought of him as a loser, exactly, but certainly unpopular. And that wasn’t you being unfair. It’s like he rebels against it, being liked. The way he jumps at people in the cafeteria and makes himself the fool in class. He wears t-shirts with monsters and screaming faces on them. He carries around a pocket knife. You’ve seen his initials carved into enough desks to be sure of it. 

But then, Bea had told you, all earnesty. “It’s kind of different with him. He won’t…pressure you, if you change your mind.”

You’d watched five girls nod in agreement with varying degrees of willingness to admit it. 

It had shocked you to your core at the time. But now that same core is warm at the suggestion. In truth, Eddie Munson is better looking than you'd ever let yourself think. Those wide eyes you'd got a good look at earlier are framed by long dark eyelashes. His lips are plush and pink, framed sweetly by boyish dimples. His hair looks clean and soft, his hands on the steering wheel look strong. 

When you look up from those hands, you find that the smirk has been replaced by a grin. He's caught you staring, and you are left with a hot face and a mind that searches for a way to change the unvoiced subject. 

"Who is this?" You ask, gesturing to the radio, the melodic wailing and electric guitar unfamiliar to you. 

Eddie raises an eyebrow. "Black Sabbath? Ozzy Osbourne?" 

You nod, realising you have no way of building on that information even as you open your mouth to reply. It closes again, and Eddie’s face sinks into irritation. 

"I have a pretty good radar for silent judgement, you know."

"I wasn't." You shake your head in earnest at his disbelieving look. "Honest. I don't really know enough about it to judge."

Eddie hums, then smiles sardonically. "Certainly hasn’t stopped anyone before." 

You chew your lip, wondering how you're going to turn this around. You don't even know entirely what you're supposed to do. Seduce him? That doesn't seem likely to work at this point. Ask him directly to what, fuck you? Treat you like you don't have a boyfriend waiting for your call? 

As it happens, you don't really need to do anything. Eddie pulls up outside his trailer and looks at you with a tilted head. "So, how do you want it?" When you blink, he gestures between you. "This. You’re welcome in the castle, but we can fuck in the backseat if you prefer."

You can't imagine how you look to Eddie after that. Something fishlike, with widened eyes and an open mouth. Embarrassment floods through your veins, that despite your admittedly weak efforts to seem casual and aloof, you may as well have written your intentions across your chest and flashed him. 

"Have I really been that transparent?”

Eddie narrows one eye, shrugs in a yeah, kind of, gesture that has you covering your face with your hands. 

“You must think I’m a terrible person,” you mumble into your palms.

“Mm? Oh, cause of the boyfriend thing?” He breathes a laugh through his nose. “Nah, I don’t care about that.” When you don’t respond, Eddie sighs. “Who’s your boyfriend again?”

You glance through your fingers at him, find those wide eyes directed entirely at you. “Kenneth Hunt.”

Eddie smirks and tilts his head forward to hide his face for a second. When he looks back up at your worried expression, he shakes his head as if getting rid of a thought then stares at you straight. “Couldn’t care less about the guy. Far as I’m concerned, you’re doing the right thing here.”

You drop your hands to your knees, rubbing over the skin with your sweaty palms. “You’re just saying that cause you wanna get laid.”

Eddie’s pink lips curve into a smirk again, eyes bright with mischief and anticipation.“I think you know exactly how easy it is for me to get laid without you, sweetheart.” He opens his door, barely paying you any mind when he continues. “You’re already here, but finding somebody else would be inconvenient, at worst.”

Eddie walks to his door with confidence, a trademark bounce in his step. Your eyes shut tight, allowing yourself a second to breathe without him looking at you. Maybe you thought you’d have more time, a little longer to decide if you really wanted to do this. You had the $20 bill in your purse ready in case you chickened out and actually ended up buying weed you’d have dumped in a random trash can on the way home. 

Even now, you are wondering if you are the sort of person who can go through with this. At the start of your relationship, the very thought of being with anyone else would have disgusted you. 

It is not a surprise when you realise that it just doesn’t anymore. 

When Eddie turns after getting the door open, he finds you walking up after him. His lips purse in a smile and he ducks his head, gesturing for you to enter first. 

You don’t know what you were expecting a drug dealer’s home to look like. Certainly, this homely, cosy room wasn’t it. The whole place is obviously masculine; in need of dusting and lacking the subtle decoration of women. But it looks like the home of a middle aged man, not that of the rebellious boy whose hands are already touching eagerly at your waist.

There’s even a pair of grey slippers by the door. 

A shiver runs up your back when Eddie’s mouth finds your shoulder, the sting of it warm even through your clothes. You make space for him to drift up to uncovered skin, wanting to let go when you feel soft lips and warm breath on the sensitive place where your shoulder meets your neck. Instead, you allow curiosity to come out.

"You, um, really like mugs, huh?" 

"Hmm?" Eddie says, pausing his seduction to glance where you are looking. "Oh. Right. No, my uncle used to collect 'em? Same with the hats." 

"How come?" 

His fingers twitch at your waist. "He, uh, used to drive trucks for a living?" Eddie shrugs, a hand coming up to tuck hair behind his ear in a gesture you might read as bashful if he were anyone else. "Picked 'em up wherever he went."

"One way to keep a travel log, I guess." You smile, and for just a second Eddie smiles back. Not the pleased smirk or the sardonic grin he’d given you talking about his music. A genuine, happy thing that softens his eyes. 

You pull your bottom lip into your mouth with your teeth. He really is good looking up close. You can’t help thinking that maybe he would have been from a distance, too, if you’d ever allowed yourself to look. 

Eddie seems to sense the change in your demeanour. If you were less desperate, you might regret prompting the loss of his shy, pleased expression. As it is, the return of his mouth to your neck has you rubbing your thighs together, seeking friction already. Teeth scratch the skin of your jaw, a tease of coming roughness that has your toes curling in your shoes.

“C’mon through,” he says, turning your acquiescent body the direction he wants it to go, walking behind your clumsy legs. 

“Okay, this makes way more sense,” you laugh. This room is all him. Records and cassettes, multiple guitars, clothes everywhere. The smell of smoke, the smell of Eddie. 

A messy bed. A dirty ashtray. An open pack of Trojans.

Eddie hums dismissively, pressing himself to your ass. He feels hard and ready, twitching against you at the soft, feminine sound of surprise you let out. Experienced fingers smooth up your thigh, until his hand is digging into the softness at the top, a single thumb playing with the frilled elastic of your panties. 

“How do you want it?” His thumb smooths along cotton, finds the split of your pussy through the fabric and your cunt clenches. “Hm. How about I get you warmed up first, yeah? Play with this little pussy till I can slide right in.”

Eddie presses his thumb up where you are wettest, humming happily at the heat of your cunt while your knees shake, ready to collapse and leave yourself open to whatever he wants. 

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s how I want it.”

“Well, good,” he laughs, his free hand pulling up the hem of your skirt. “‘Cause that’s how you’re going to get it.”

Your eyes flutter at the feeling of Eddie's callused fingers dipping under the waistband of your panties. He stops a minute to play with the curls of hair on your mound and smiles against your neck at the pleading wiggle of your hips. When Eddie’s fingers pull your lips apart, exposing your sticky cunt to his touch, he sighs approvingly into your ear. "There she is." 

His fingers tease gently at your entrance, gathering wetness and rubbing at the smooth lips of your cunt while you both stare down at his hand working beneath the fabric of your panties.

“Fuck,” you breathe, knowing he must be feeling exactly how excited and ready he has you. Eddie fills your clenching cunt with two fingers, the stretch of them walking that blissful line between pleasure and pain. Your body jolts at the intrusion, but the sound you let out is pleased, a quiet gasp and whimper that prompts Eddie to breathe a laugh into your neck.

“You like that?”

You nod rapidly, hips jumping at every slow movement of his wrist, the aching stretch and drag of his fingers in your cunt. The press of callused pads against your walls, catching perfectly against the sensitive skin of your walls and-  

“Oh, fuck.” 

Eddie curls his arm tight around the front of your waist when he feels you start to slide away, steadying you against him with a delighted laugh. "This is the best fucking part with girls,” he tells you, angling his wrist just right, your mouth falling open to allow you to gasp air into your lungs in between groans. “You’ve got all these fun little spots to work with.” He squeezes your waist for emphasis, presses his lips to your ear. “Want to know my favourite?”

Eddie’s thumb finds your swollen clit, and you know in an instant exactly why girls forget they have boyfriends when he touches them. 

He starts fucking your cunt with his fingers, pressing tight to the perfect spot inside each time while his thumb rubs tight, focused circles on your sensitive button. Your thighs shake around his hand, and Eddie coos a mocking tone that only serves to make you clench tighter around him. 

You can hear it. The building wetness, louder every second, but you can't think to be embarrassed, not when Eddie's tucked his chin on your shoulder to stare down at your body, rolling and flinching to the rhythm he sets.

"Oh, god. Fuck, fuck-" 

Your toes curl in your shoes, hips chasing his fingers and their magic though he makes no move to stop. Together, the sensitivity of your clit and your clasping hole build until you're crying out, reaching behind you to press a hand to Eddie's cheek. It’s a sudden need, an ache to see him, the person giving you this, the person determined to bring you to this blissful peak you have been desperate to reach for a long time. The ecstatic tremors people are always talking about. 

Eddie’s face turns to yours at your desperate touch. He is all flushed cheeks and prettiness; excitement in those wide eyes, his tongue peaking out in his concentration. He hums a questioning tone, and you moan back, mouth open and breathing in the smoke and mint of his breath. 

Eddie's lips are soft looking and pink. Simultaneously, or perhaps one follows the other, the thought crosses your mind that he might kiss you, and you cum on his rough fingers. 

Your body seizes up, caught between searching for more of the pleasure he brings and trying to push him away as it reaches a painful edge. Eddie's fingers are steady and unrelenting until the hand on his cheek is pushing back to tangle in his hair and you are gasping. You ache for more of his touch, the high it seems only he is capable of giving you. 

You wonder if it’s always like this, after. The feeling that parts of your body are more his than yours, now.

"Please, fuck me." 

Eddie grins, dimples pressing sweetly into his cheeks, giving your clit one last mean rub just to feel the jolt of your body pressing to his. His fingers are wet with your slick when he brings them between your faces, expression a little crazed. That pink tongue appears again to lap at his middle finger, his eyes fluttering then fixating on you.  

Your mouth opens before he even asks. Eddie presses his fingers, still dripping with you, against your tongue. It's musky and salty and natural. Nothing amazing, but the way Eddie's watching you take it gives you half a mind to suck on the digits, just to see how he might look at you while you do it. 

He pulls his hand away before you can make good, running the pads over your bottom lip. 

"It's my favourite," he murmurs, big eyes set on your drooling mouth. 

A feral, desperate part of you wants to ask if he means he likes yours best, this boy who must know the taste of so many. Your eyes flicker to his own pouty mouth, but he doesn't give you the time to lean in the way you might want to. 

"Get on the bed." Eddie releases your body, leaving you cold along your back and where his arm had held you tight around your waist. Body thrumming, you settle yourself back on his mattress, toeing off your shoes and opening your legs to let your skirt slide tauntingly up your thighs. 

If you were coming to realise how attractive Eddie was before, one orgasm deep you are convinced of his beauty. He looks even better like this; flushed and a little sweaty, his messy hair the work of your fingers. You watch him, panting, while he removes the heavy leather jacket and his shirt, throwing them carelessly to the floor. The tattoos that decorate his pale arms and chest have you sinking deeper, wiggling your hips to try and find friction against his mattress.

“You gonna take your shirt off?” He asks with a smirk. “Let me see your tits?”

You glance down at them, wondering not for the first time what the appeal is, and look up to find Eddie’s lithe hands pulling at his belt. The clink of the buckle makes your cunt clench, watching his fingers pull leather through metal. Your own hands find the hem of your top to pull it up and over your head, face heating at his unashamed gaze on the newly exposed skin.

“This, too?” You ask, reaching behind you to the clasp of your bra.

His lips curve. “You know many guys who’d say no?”

“I’m asking you.”

Eddie blinks, eyes flicking up to yours. You see him swallow under his pale throat and then he clears it, hands losing their grace to frantically undo the button and zip of his jeans.

“Yeah,” he nods, teeth abusing his pillowy bottom lip. “That, too.”

You pull at the clasp and let it fall. Eddie moans at the back of his throat, his hand slipping into the exposed check fabric of his boxers. The desperate movement of his wrist under cotton, brought on by the sight of you, could fool you into thinking he was new to this. Dark eyes drift back and forth like he’s trying to pick his favourite, a pink tongue peaking out in a show of concentration.

You laugh, shaking your shoulders to give him a show, and it’s like you’ve reset him.

Eddie grunts, takes a long breath, and pulls his thick cock from his boxers. He drags his hand over his length in a smooth stroke, the excited boy that had you giggling just a second ago replaced in an instant by a man showing off.

He has a right to it. You search for friction from his mattress at the sight of him, long and thick. A dripping head exposed when he pulls back pink skin around swollen flesh. He'll hit the end of you, that spot he’d found with his fingers. And he’ll split you apart while he's at it. 

Eddie tears open a condom wrapper with his teeth, smoothing the wet rubber down from his tip until it's stretched transparent and clinging to his heavy cock. He tilts his chin up proudly at your unashamed stare, his dick twitching. 

"Turn over." 

Happy to do as you're told if it gets him inside you faster, you turn your back to him and fall to your hands and knees. Once you are staring at his headboard, a ringed hand finds your shoulder, pushing you down until your chest is flat to his sheets, your ass up and on display for him. 

"You still want it, right?" 

You hardly think you can be hearing him right. You turn your head as best you can with half your body held flat like this, but he is out of eyeshot, your gaze only finding a stack of amps and a pile of wires that further mark this room as his. Unable to catch him, you settle for wiggling your hips, grinding into the air, your humility lost to his fingers and the sight of his cock. "Uh, no, my pussy's in the air waiting for somebody else to come along. Be serious, Eddie." 

A half there chuckle sounds above you, and a quick warm kiss is pressed to the curve of your back as his hands flip up your skirt. "Fuck yes," he breathes, eyeing your ass cupped sweetly in wet panties until he gets his fingers in the elastic to pull them down to your knees. 

You feel exposed, your most intimate place bare and open to his gaze, but you are as hot and wanting as ever, whining low into his sheets. The hand on your shoulder drifts down your back to your hip, his thumb rubbing gently over your skin when his cock meets the entrance of your pussy. 

"Relax," he says, the first gentle push of his hips not enough to get him inside when you're this wound up, body resisting the intrusion. Eddie keeps stroking your hip, lets you clench and unclench your fists and toes in your effort to let go. "'m gonna make you feel real good," Eddie assures, the promise in his tone a comfort. "Just as soon as you're ready, okay?" 

You mewl, wanting that more than anything. With a long sigh, you let the soft caress of Eddie's warm hand and the ease of his voice soothe you until your body is loose and supplicating. 

"That's right. Let me in, sweetheart." 

The slow stretch of his cock pressing inside you is an aching, brilliant burn. Your fingers curl into the bed, stuck between pushing back onto him and giving in to whatever pace he wishes to set. He stops before he reaches the end of you, panting in the air, hand caressing your hip. You whine when he pulls back, pussy clenching up in a desperate attempt to keep him inside. 

“'m tryna be gentle,” he laughs, pressing his face to your shoulder with a shaky breath. "This pussy needs looking after, ‘kay? S’too tight to force it, so don't rush me."

You nod, rubbing your cheek on his sheets, surrounded by the smell and feel of him. Eddie works you open slowly with his cock, pushing deeper before taking the sweet stretch away over and over again until you’re shaking with need. Your pussy flutters around the invading inches of his cock, twinges of pain slowly giving way to sweet pangs of pleasure.

“Doin’ so well,” he soothes, breathing harshly through his nose. “Want it all, don’t ya?”

“Want it all,” you repeat

"You need it a little harder?"

"Mm, yeah. Need it harder." 

Eddie gives you one last slow roll of his hips, his strong hands drifting up to grasp at either side of your waist. 

With the first rough thrust, you are crying out. His thick head meets that spot his fingers had located inside you, mapped out and known to him already. Eddie’s cock, heavy and hot, slides easily through the soaked walls of your cunt, your body happily inviting him to use you just like this. 

The aching stretch, the drag of his cock inside you, the dirty tease of his heavy balls smacking your clit with the way he has your hips tilted. Almost as good as all of that is the sound of Eddie above you. 

Masculine groans and fuck yeah's. Boyish laughter when your cunt squeezes happily around him, the delightful humiliation of it only encouraging your pussy to keep clasping his cock. 

"Feels good, yeah? Yeah. S'good for me, too, baby. It's a sweet little cunt you're giving me."

You shudder, whining at the sound of that. You don't exactly think it; you just know somewhere that it's true. If Eddie will touch you, fuck you, talk to you like this? Give him your pussy is exactly what you'll do. If he wants, he can have it to keep. 

You can feel that perfect incline wanting to happen again. Eddie has you mewling under him, your hips squirming to encourage his thick, warm cock deeper with every thrust he gives you. 

You have hit the familiar wall. Pleasure mounting and mounting, going nowhere. Only now it’s Eddie fucking you, and you trust him already to take you exactly where you need to go.

"I wanna cum again," you whine, barely noting the stutter of his hips. "Wanna cum. Please." 

He doesn't reply for too long, waiting until a frustrated cry leaves your lips. "I like the sound of you begging," he answers, the salacious grin on his face audible in his tone. "A little more wouldn't hurt."

Your toes curl in half irritation and half need, hating him a little despite the pleasurable prickle his teasing causes to dance up your spine. You consider screaming into his sheets until he gives you what you need. You could grab his hand and force it between your legs, or else try to draw the ecstasy up yourself if you didn't think he would only stop fucking you as punishment. 

Eddie presses deep and then deeper still, the head of his cock rubbing perfect at the end of you, and you know then that you have no use for pride when it comes to him. 

With shaking arms, you push your chest up from the mattress until you are resting on your palms, elbows locked straight. When you look back, you find Eddie flushed and sweaty, dark curls stuck to his forehead and his pink cheeks. His brown eyes are round and surprised to be looking into yours, shifting back and forth between your left and right. 

"Eddie," you say, his name leaving your mouth as a moan. "Please make me cum. I need-" You stutter and gasp at his fingers tightening a bruising grip on your waist, your clit throbbing in response to the demonstration of the strength in his hands. "I need you to do it for me, Eddie." 

He blinks at you, pink lips open to let out his pretty groans. Then he's nodding, and his right hand disappears from your waist to find your clit. 

"Thank you," you breathe at the first circle of the rough pads. Your pussy twitches as relief spreads through your body, already attune to what Eddie's touch there will bring. At once, the places he has found on your body take you to an edge that you would willingly throw yourself from. "Eddie. Eddie, Eddie- fuck-"

Your arms give way when your cunt throbs violently around him. Eddie follows you down, his chest curling over your back. He keeps his fingers working you through your high, wrapping his other arm around your front to hold you close. Reaching back to tangle your hand in his hair, you feel his lips, his warm cheek, at the sensitive skin of your neck, his aching closeness just as good as his cock at bringing about this ecstasy. 

"Shit. Shit, you're so fucking good," Eddie groans, voice a pleasant vibration on your skin. His cock twitches and jumps inside your aching hole, and you feel the sudden warmth as his cum collects at the tip of the condom. 

Your bodies twitch through aftershocks together, then slump as one to the bed. Eddie's chest holds tight to your back, his hairy thighs bracketing yours. For a few sweet, fuzzy moments, you are alone in the world with him. 

You scratch gently at his head, fingers still lost in his messy locks. Eddie breathes a long sigh then makes a gentle happy sound like a relaxing cat. 

You laugh softly, and lose him. 

Eddie's comforting weight vanishes along with his warmth as he sits up. With a sigh, he pulls his softening cock out, your pussy aching with the significant loss when he's gone.

Once you think you can control your limbs, you roll over onto your back and stare at his ceiling, searching your chest for guilt over what you’ve just done. It's not your boyfriend you can hear pulling off a condom, not him searching a cluttered side table for a pack of cigarettes. It's not him who tosses himself back on the bed beside you with a bounce. 

But you don't find shame. You're too busy feeling the relief that nothing is wrong with you. Your body is capable of what it should be, and in truth you are giddy with it. So much so that you find yourself laughing into the air, covering your face with your sweaty hands and shaking your legs at the knees. 

“Where did you learn to fuck like that?”

When you take your hands from your eyes, Eddie has a cigarette hanging from his lips, a lighter in his hands waiting to be flicked. “Uh,” he starts, grabbing the unlit smoke so he can speak with both sides of his mouth free. “I don’t know. Practice, I guess. And then you just gotta, y’know, pay attention to what the girl likes, ‘n’ what she doesn’t like, I guess.” 

You collapse into his pillows, watch him return the cigarette to his plush mouth and take a long drag, breathing out away from your face. 

“What do I like?”

Dimples appear on the cheek closest to you, shallow crow's feet at his eyes. “Liked me sweet talking you while I bullied your cunt.”

The way your pussy clenches has you believing him, curling up at his side and watching him settle himself. “Mm. Yeah. Do you like that, too?”

Eddie blinks for a second like he hasn’t heard you correctly, tilts his face down to where you are lying on his mattress, gazing up at him with a dreamy smile. “Uh, yeah,” he nods, hair a beautiful mess, shifting with his movement. “But I kinda just like fucking, honestly, so…” 

He laughs awkwardly, eyes shifting between you and his cigarette on a loop.

You nod. “I guess it’s just easier for guys.”

Eddie considers this, shrugs. “Yeah, in my experience.” He grins to the side. “Some days a strong breeze does it for me.”

You snort, reaching out to trace a line along the tattooed chain that curls around his torso. Eddie squirms a little like it tickles, but allows you to follow the links with your finger. You bite the inside of your lip, wondering where this need to tell Eddie everything you’re thinking came from. 

“Got a confession,” 

“Shit.” His eyes go wide, blinking fast with worry. “Shit, please don’t tell me I just took your virginity.” You smile, shake your head, and feel the tension leave his body. “Jesus, don’t scare me like that. What is it?”

You watch him take a drag from his cigarette, the slow rise and fall of his tattooed chest. “I, uh. No-one’s ever made me…finish, before.”

Eddie’s nose scrunches up sweetly. “Christ, that’s almost as bad. You came for the first time staring at my unmade bed.”

“I didn’t notice,” you tell him, swirling a finger around one link. Your teeth dig into the gum behind your lip. “Could’ve been looking at anything, probably, and I wouldn’t have noticed.”

Eddie licks his lips quickly, his gaze moving from your mouth to your eyes. “If I’d known it was your first time-”

“Not my first time-”

“Your first time reaching the big O, experiencing le petite mort, uh, blowing your lump-”

“Blowing my lu-”

“If I’d known,” he says, pressing a hand to his chest. “You’d have had a sweet view of this most handsome of faces between your thighs.”

You pause your touch on his stomach, blinking at him. The image is as invasive as it is appealing; those big eyes watching you while his mouth works your sensitive pussy. Your clit throbs at the thought even while you squirm with a touch of discomfort. "You really do that, Eddie?"

"Did I or did I not tell you pussy was my favourite taste?" Eddie asks, sounding a touch irritated until he takes in your expression. "You never even had your pussy eaten, sweet thing? Nobody even tried?" 

When your head shakes timidly, Eddie huffs like he means it. “Man, what is the point of sex education? Everyone’s fucking anyway, but all these boys don’t know what the hell they’re doing.” He shakes his head, looking genuinely aggrieved for you. “Need a whole semester on how to find the Goddamn clit, or else find the patience to try looking for it in the first place.”

His genuine irritation has you amused and fond in equal measure. “Who would teach that class, Eddie?” You laugh, thinking of the man who’s been teaching sex ed since your parents attended Hawkins High. 

“Hey, Coach Wright only pushes that abstinence only bullshit cause that’s what the man dictates," he snickers, clearly imagining it himself. "The man in this case being the Indiana Department of Education.”

“Of course,”

You like him like this. A boy you would have described as scary forty-eight hours ago, laughing with you, joking like old friends. If you feel any shame, it’s not for a boy across town you always thought too highly of. It’s for this boy here, who you really didn’t think of much at all. He is kind enough to be angry on your behalf. To look after you the way nobody else ever has.

And he’s pretty. You’re happy to admit it now. He is so pretty that when Eddie licks his lips and blows smoke from them, and the image of him between your thighs returns full force. What it would be to have those eyes on yours, the softness of those lips somewhere you can't see, only feel. 

You swallow, rubbing your thighs together to deal with the growing throb of your clit. 

Eddie catches the movement and blinks at you with a slow smile. He snuffs out the cigarette in the ashtray on his bedside table before turning to you with a little sigh. "You're desperate for it, huh?" 

“Yeah,” you breathe. Abandoning any possibility of playing coy, you touch at the lithe muscle of his arm. “But, not, I mean- You don’t have to. It’s already-” You look at his pleased face, hoping he hears what you want him to know. “It’s already better than it has been for me. Like ever, Eddie.”

Eddie smiles at you shyly, gifting you the sight of one dimple and the sweet shine of his soft eyes. “I’m happy to hear that. I mean, I’m not happy that it wasn’t good before. Happy that it was good, that I was good. To you. You know?” You nod, heart aching, more endeared to him with every word he speaks now that the cocky boy you pushed you into this room and bent you over to take his cock has been replaced by this blushing one who is clearing his throat nervously under your adoring gaze. “Right, yeah. Gonna eat you out now, ‘kay?”

“Okay, Eddie.” 

With gentle firmness, he leans over your face to help you lie back into his pillows, his hair falling around you and tickling your cheeks. Eddie mumbles an apology and tucks it back behind his neck only to find you staring up at him, expression soft and wanting. You watch each other. His eyes flicker, and you think, not for the first time, about what it would be like if he kissed you.

"Just to be clear,” he says, voice soft until- “It wasn't talking about Coach Wright that got you going again?" 

The reverie is broken with his laugh and your mortification. "Oh my God, Eddie, obviously not!"

"You sure? Cause I pride myself on giving, and if you need my flawless impression to make this the best it can be, I will do that for you, sweetheart." He presses a short kiss to your collar while you giggle, shaking your head at him. His lips linger at your chest, his wet tongue gliding over your nipple, lips sucking till you gasp. Just as you’re about to moan his name, he releases the pebbled bud to laugh. When he looks up, his eyes are watering with mirth. "You have some amount of nerve to look me in the eye and call that running!"

"Stop!" You cry, toes curling at the too accurate impression of the old man's crackly Southern drawl as Eddie giggles into the softness of your stomach.

"My grandmother Mabel moves faster, and she's been dead near twenty years, God rest her soul!" 

"Eddie, I hate that!"

"Oh?” He says, running a finger around your belly button. “You want dirty talk? Why, you look so damn sexy climbing that rope I could-"

You squeal, kicking your legs either side of his torso, and reach down to press a hand over his mouth, feeling the humidity of his laughing breaths against your palm. "Sto-op," you whine, waiting till he's finished laughing and is blinking slowly before moving your hand. Eddie smiles at you, dimples on display, and kisses your stomach again, down to the top of your thigh. His tongue peaks out at the sensitive skin there, hot and wet, and the throb in your cunt reminds you why he’s there.

Eddie chances a look at you, and you see in his expressive eyes that he's thinking about speaking. Instinct brings your hands to his hair, brushing back some of the damp curls at the front. His eyes flutter, some tension in his body gives way, leaving him with a cheek resting on your thigh. 

He swallows then speaks. "You want me, then?" 

Your chest hurts. You don’t look away. "Yes, Eddie. I want you." 

His eyes close tight for a few seconds, until you drag your fingers through some of the displaced curls, scratching soothingly with the pads of your fingers at his scalp. He hums softly, blinks again, then sighs as he sinks down between your thighs. 

“Ah, there she is,” he says, any traces of vulnerability lost the second he catches sight of your pussy, wet, swollen, and waiting for him. “Oh yeah, she needs more, for sure. Should’ve told me earlier, baby. I would’ve helped you out.”

“I didn’t-”

“Shhhh,” he breathes, hooking a leg over his shoulder and pressing the other aside and up so he can push in close, the soft plushness of his lips brushing your mound when he grins. “Wasn’t talking to you. ‘M having a conversation, here.” Eddie kisses at the curls of hair above your cunt, drifting down until his breath becomes a teasing caress. He gives your twitching clit a single kiss, lips wrapped perfectly around it, and your legs jump either side of his head. “Yeah, you were saying?”

“You’re so fucking weird,” you laugh, half caught between amusement and desperate anticipation, covering your face with your hands while Eddie mumble apologies to your cunt for the second interruption.

“She’s just jealous, sweet thing," he murmurs, leaving wet kisses down to your entrance, his nose bumping your aching button. "She doesn't understand our connection." 

He licks, broad and hot, up the length of your cunt with a satisfied groan. "Tastes so fucking good."

Eddie's head shakes, pressing his mouth to your weeping pussy, lapping at your soft entrance. You listen to the sound of his tongue, his satisfied lip smacks and grunts, and realise he was entirely serious about loving this. Your toes curl at every stroke of his tongue, soothing the ache his cock left behind. 

You are taunted by the way his nose keeps brushing your clit, teasing the sensitive bundle of nerves that is desperate for his mouth. If it weren't for the building ache, you could watch Eddie like this for hours. Hair messy and sticking all over his face, eyes closed in bliss. The way his head moves like he wants to get deeper, taste everything you have to give. 

Your fingers tighten in his hair, give a gentle tug, and his soft eyes find yours.

They remain half closed from satisfaction, the warmest brown lost to dark pupils. They are still the prettiest pair of eyes you've ever seen. 

"Feels good," you whine, tangling one hand in his curls. With the other, you smooth down your mound to the top of your cunt, exposing your clit with two fingers so he can see the sweet button he's been torturing. "But I need you here. Please, Eddie." 

He pulls himself from your entrance with a gentle gasp of air, the bottom half of his face soaked with you. Your talkative boy doesn't say a word, just nods desperately before lathing his tongue over your clit. 

Your thighs lock around his head without you even noticing. Your body is desperate to keep him there, though there really is no need to try and force him. Eddie will kiss your clit till you're crying if you promise to say his name like that every time it feels good. 

He circles his tongue around the top of your cunt, playing with the nerves and watching the drop of your chin, the slow but constant nod of your head while you cry out. You feel your pleasure building under his mouth, the now familiar crest approaching. Your clit twitches with your thighs and Eddie groans happily, sensing the approaching high he's drawing out with his worship of your pussy.  

Eddie gives you the perfect satisfied sound from the back of his throat, wraps his pillowy lips around your clit to suck gently at the swollen button. Your cunt numbs for a split second, close to pain, then sends flashes of ecstasy through your body as you cum. Eddie’s name comes just like he wanted, in a stream of grateful whines. 

When your limbs lose their tension, legs falling limp against his shoulders, you think this must be what it feels like to be high. Even the final press of Eddie's lips to your oversensitive clit only draws a soft grunt from you. The loss of his warmth is sudden and sharp, but you don’t let him go for long. When you feel him flop down beside you on the bed you search for him and find his hand, as strong as you had thought it would be. You press your fingers to his palm until he holds your hand properly, grounding you enough that you feel ready to speak.

"That was amazing. I mean," you breathe a laugh, turning to look at him, finding him staring up at the ceiling. "Holy shit, Eddie. You have some kind of gift."

He doesn’t glance over, blinking those big eyes at any sight but you. The movement feels natural, to try and get his attention by bringing your joined hands to your mouth. You leave a kiss to his knuckles and Eddie finally looks at you, eyes shiny. 

"Can I," you murmur into the back of his hand. "Can I stay for a while?" Your face heats at the poorly hidden surprise on his face, but you push forward with a nervous giggle. "Kinda need to wait until I can feel my feet again, anyway." 

"You can stay as long as you want, sweetheart," he nods, swallows, then corrects himself. "As long as you need.”

You chew your lip, leaning in a little to just rest your temple at his shoulder. "Good, cause I actually kind of need to know why one person needs so many amps."

You feel the subtle shake of his laughter under your head, soothing and warm, and curl up at his side, pulling at his arm until it clasps you tight. You let yourself enjoy the happiness in Eddie's voice. 

"A metalhead can never have too many amps, Princess," he assures. "Allow me to explain…"

.⋆｡⋆✮˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.  

A little part of him hates you. 

He didn’t demand you look at him like he was special, important to you, or moan his name like that when you came. He didn’t invite you in so you could ask him about his amps, or his handmade Corroded Coffin poster, or Wayne’s collection of mugs. He didn’t ask you to stay, you just did it. 

Eddie let you stay too long, and held you in his arms too tight. He’d spoken too much, answered every question and asked his own before listening to more than he should have. He let himself get a taste of what it might be like to be wanted by you all of the time, not just when you are left disappointed by whoever you came to him to replace, forget, or punish. He might as well have smoked a whole twenty pack of Camels, the way all that sweetness turned to ash in his mouth. 

“What are you going to do now?” He’d asked, when his van stopped outside of your Mom’s pretty front garden. He’d stared at the petunias and felt stupid for even asking.

“Call my boyfriend.”

He’s glad it was dark, glad you were staring at your hands so you didn’t see him flinch. Eddie used the minute of silence after to mourn what he never had, then he’d felt you shift beside him. Your lips found the corner of his mouth, your eyes and his shut tight to savour it. An almost kiss, more fitting than anything else you could have given him. 

“Thank you, Eddie,” you’d whispered, warm breath spreading over his cheek. Cool where the tears were. “Tonight was…special.”

Eddie watched you walk inside, then slammed the heel of his palm into the dashboard until his wrist ached. 

Bea showed up at his trailer the Sunday after. She flashed the stretchy green fabric covering her mound under her pleated skirt and Eddie thought about all the times pulling at the elastane and hearing it snap back onto sensitive skin made his cock jump, trying to will that reaction when she placed her vanilla scented skin against his, rubbed her fingers over his crotch. She took his wrist to pull him towards his room, and he felt panic overtake any excitement in his chest. 

Would he lose the scent of you on his sheets if she lay herself down where he wants you to be? 

“Can we, uh, slow down?” Eddie had asked, planting his feet in the hallway before his room, feeling the pause before she replied as a physical presence between them. 

“Slow down and do what, exactly?”

Eddie’s lips twitched. Let me tell you all about my Uncle’s mug collection, he almost said. 

“I don’t know, I just- I need a minute. We could talk.”

Her hand dropped his wrist, found her hip instead. “Okay, but you know that’s not what this is, right?”

“Yeah. No, I know. I mean-” He sighed, thought, fuck, what have you done to me? “I know what this is. I’m not your boyfriend, but I’m not a sex toy, either, okay?”

"Don't act like you don't get something out of this too, Munson."

Edde ran a hand through his hair and thought about how you'd pulled his face to yours with it, how much you wanted to hold him, see him while he made you feel better than anyone else ever had. The way you’d stayed after like it meant something.

"Not what I want," Eddie said, walking decidedly back to his front door to throw it open and gesture to the cold air. "You may take your leave." 

"Whatever," Bea mumbled, her arm crossing her body, the insecurity brought on by rejection apparent in her stance. Eddie felt a touch of guilt about it. "I know one of them probably gave you puppy eyes and made you think you might have a shot, Munson, but just so you know, none of the girls are interested in you for more than this. We do talk, you know?" 

The guilt vanished, swiftly replaced by hot sharp shame that stung his throat. 

"I mean, don't fool yourself, Munson. You're fun, but you're nobody's boyfriend."

"Just…get out."

When she was gone, her baby blue sports car pulling away from his home, Eddie threw himself into his bed and allowed himself a moment to breathe the smell of you before he covered his eyes with his fists and swallowed tears

You're all he can think about. Sweet memories mixing with terrible dread, the knowledge that the dream will end abruptly for him on Monday. It's the same story as all those other girls. You'll be back with your boyfriend by then, resentment worked out by Eddie's cock. Maybe in a week or two you'll show up at his trailer, wide eyed and wanting. 

The only thing worse than that would be if you never came around again. It’s sick, he realises, but he’d put himself through it for the way you look when you cum, would go through even worse for the way you say his name when you laugh.

Eddie wonders if he can avoid the sight of you when he gets into school, keep you out of sight and until you leave his mind. But he's not at his locker longer than ten seconds when he swears he can sense your presence from the drop of his stomach.

Eddie looks up, and there you are. Walking with your boyfriend. Kenneth Hunt (dubbed Kunt by Gareth in what Eddie felt was a stroke of genius), worse than a bully. Puts on a real nice front for teachers and parents and girls. He rarely takes part in the real shit, just stands on and watches like being there while his friends shove Dustin or Jeff into a locker makes him tough. He’ll throw some insults occasionally when he’s feeling particularly brave. He’s pathetic.

But he has you.

“Fuckin’ idiot, Munson,” he mumbles, hating himself for believing for even a second that it wouldn’t have ended this way for him. Soon, as you pass him, one of two things will happen. 

You will bury yourself into that prick’s chest, bat your pretty eyes at him and act like you need protection from the freak. 

Or you’ll ignore him, flounce past like you didn’t fall apart on his fingers and his tongue and his cock. Like you didn’t lie warm and comfortable with him in his bed for hours. Like he didn’t make you smile. Like you didn’t almost kiss him. 

His chest already aches, and he’s thinking seriously about skipping his next class and hotboxing his van just to forget he ever let you in anywhere; his van, his room, his stupid, throbbing heart. 

Only, Eddie blinks at you, trying to work this scene out. You aren’t cooing in Kenneth’s ear. Or putting on that baby voice girls do with boys they like. Your face is scrunched, fingers curled into fists rather than pressed lovingly at his arm. Actually, you’re hissing at each other, the frustrated sound of a public argument trying to be kept private. 

“Baby, I seriously don’t understand where all this is coming from!” 

“I explained already,” you answer, exasperated, shaking your wrist from his hand. “I just don’t think we’re right for each other.” 

You’re approaching, and his naïve heart calls for you, hope a dangerous warmth in Eddie’s chest. 

You look up. Your eyes find his. 

“Since when, though? I just-”

“Hi, Eddie.” You wave, giving him a pretty smile, your head tilted shyly.

“Hi,” he breathes. He wouldn’t have been able to hide his excitement if he tried. But you aren’t trying, so why would he?

You bite the inside of your lip and scan him up and down, taking in his dark mess of curls, his ripped jeans and his Reeboks as you walk past with a subtle, flirty smile. Kenneth pauses, losing ground on you to instead stare at your retreating form. He turns to Eddie, jaw loose, eyes displaying his desperate attempts at joining what to him must seem like completely unconnected dots.

Kenneth’s fists clench, and he shakes the very idea from his head. “Freak,” he bites, taking off after you.

Eddie huffs a laugh, because the insult doesn’t matter anymore. Not when this new knowledge is so sweet. 

He watches the letterman jacket jog up after you, and thinks, I fucked your ex-girlfriend stupid. 

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic

[reigningqueenofwords]

Merry Christmas

Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: 2,061 Warnings: Slight angst

Read on AO3

“Screw you, Dean!” You yelled over your shoulder as you stormed through the bunker. You had a bag in hand, stuffed with your clothes. A smaller back was on top of it with your shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and a few other miscellaneous things. “Stupid Winchester.” You grumbled as you heard him following you. 

Sam raised an eyebrow at the commotion, getting up to go see what was going on. “Y/N?” He asked. “What’s up? You okay?” You were a close friend, and he didn’t want you upset. 

You stopped and let your head hang back for a moment before looking at him. “You’re brother is an ass, that’s all.” You said, sounding a bit bored, like it was old news. “So, I’m leaving.” You shrugged. 

“Come on, babe.” Dean half whined as he came in. “Can we just we just talk about this?” He asked, giving you the puppy dog eyes that you were sure Sam learned from him. 

“Do I want to know?” Sam asked, a bit unsure about what the pair of you were fighting about. 

Sighing, you thought before speaking. “We’d been fighting over whether or not we were going to celebrate Christmas. I wanted to. We’ve been together for four years, and I wanted something simple. Nothing like a full on Christmas in the movies or anything. He wouldn’t budge. Nothing I said made him change his mind.” You explained, making Sam nod that he understood. You both knew that Dean was stubborn as all hell. “So, I woke up before him this morning, and I tried waking him up. I was rubbing his back. You wanna know what he said?” 

He made a face. “I’m not sure.” 

“Merry Christmas, Lisa.” You shot Dean a look. “Fucking Lisa. Won’t celebrate Christmas with me, but dreams about it with her.” You spat. “Out of all the things he could have said.” 

Sam’s eyebrows shot up at that. He hadn’t heard that name in ages. “What the hell, Dean?!” He asked, crossing his arms, angry for you. Sure, they hadn’t really done Christmas since the whole pagan Gods thing, but he would have agreed for you. How hard was it to just have a little holiday joy for someone you cared about? Especially in the life that they led.

Dean sagged. “I said I’m sorry.” He said softly, swallowing. 

“I’ll be in touch, Sam.” You sighed. “I’m not saying I’m going forever, but I can’t sleep next to him right now.” Which hurt, a lot. Rarely did the pair of you sleep apart. “I’ll text you to let you know I’m safe, okay?” You added, knowing that would be the next question out of his mouth. 

He gave you a sad smile and a quick hug. “I hope you have a Merry Christmas, Y/N.” He said softly. 

You glanced at Dean, hurt in your eyes. “See you, Dean. I do love you. Even if you are an ass.” You told him, your anger softening to more hurt than anything. Would you never live up to her? 

Dean’s heart ached at the look in your eyes, knowing that he was the cause. “Come home soon?” He asked, his voice full of emotion. “Please?” He added, wanting to rush over and pull you into his arms. 

Nodding, you licked your lips. “I just need time to think.” You said honestly before heading towards the door. You willed your tears to not fall. Not yet. Not while you were still so close to the man you loved. He was your home, and he was who you ran to when you hurt. Having him be the reason your stomach churned and you felt like crying was one of the hardest things you’d dealt with.

As soon as you were out the door, Sam crossed his arms over his chest and stared at Dean. “Really? Lisa?” He asked. “Out of anyone? She knows that’s the closest you’ve ever come to an apple pie life, and she can’t even get a tiny Christmas with you?!” He was pissed. 

Dean sighed. “I know. I know.” He groaned. “I don’t even know how to start fixing this. I don’t want to lose her because I’m an idiot who, for some reason, dreamt of Lisa. I don’t even remember the dream!” He tried to defend himself. “One minute I’m asleep, the next I’m being hit with a pillow.” 

“I don’t blame her.” He shook his head. “Does some part of you miss Lisa and Ben? Do you miss being out of the life?” Sam asked, trying to work through what was going on in his brother’s mind. “Do you want that back?” His voice was softer, like he was afraid to speak it into existence. 

“No.” He said easily. “I don’t. I haven’t even thought about them until she mentioned her name.” He ran a hand through his disheveled hair. “I know that life isn’t in the cards for us, so why would I want it? It wouldn’t last.” They both knew that was true. They’d both had first hand experience with that. “I don’t know why I had a dream of telling Lisa that. I have no idea why she would be in my dream to begin with. Now, can we not focus on that and focus on getting Y/N home?!” He pleaded. “Seriously, if I were to ask for anything for Christmas, it would be that.” 

“Which is funny because you not wanting Christmas with her is a big reason we’re in this mess.” Sam muttered as he passed Dean. “I’ll wait to hear from her before I try to think of anything.” 

Dean let out a sigh as he was left alone. “Shit.” 

It was a few days before you told Sam you were settled in for the holidays. Christmas was two days away, and you just wanted to spend the day relaxing. You’d found a little rustic cabin, and enjoyed how it was covered in snow. On the way through town, you’d stopped to get enough food for the next few days, a book, and some wrapping paper. 

Even if they were late getting them, you still wanted to give the boys their gifts.And they would look as perfect as you could get them. You’d gotten Dean a personalized knife, a cool science kit where he could build his own radio, a cookbook, the Lord of the Rings trilogy on Blu-Ray, and a new bag for his weapons. For Sam, you’d gotten him a new laptop bag, a few books you had seen him eyeing, a new jacket, and a pair of nice headphones. You had literally shopped all year for this. Sometimes you’d order things online, sometimes you’d grab things after a hunt. Either way, you got what you needed. 

Thankfully, wrapping presents gave you a much needed distraction. You’d been pushing everything down since that morning. It was going to catch up to you, and you knew it. Once you’d finished wrapping, you set them all on the table in front of the window. Snapping a picture, you sent it to both of them. Merry Christmas. You sighed, watching the snow fall outside. Slowly, your walls came down, too. Sniffing, you wiped your nose. 

Everything hit you at once. You were feeling insecure for the first time in your entire relationship. Sitting on the floor, your back was against the side of the bed as you cried. You’d be spending the ‘happiest’ time of the year alone, and ringing in the New Year alone for the first time in years.

Dean quickly looked at his phone, hoping you were saying you were on your way home. However, he saw it was a stack of presents and sighed. Even with everything, you’d gone to all that trouble. There was no tell tale signs of where you were. All he knew was that you were somewhere cold. Getting up, he shuffled through the halls to find Sam. “Hey, Sammy?” He asked, leaning his head into his room. 

“You get the same picture?” He asked, glancing at him. 

“Yeah, I did.” He sighed. “Anyway you can track her phone? I want to drive out and surprise her. Get her some stuff along the way, got some stuff in mind, actually.” He admitted. “Please, Sammy?” 

Sam looked unsure. “She made it clear she wants to be alone, Dean.” He pointed out. “What if we get there and she tells us to get the hell out?” It wasn’t like he was saying ‘no’ outright, but he wanted to be sure that Dean thought this through. 

“Okay, I’m sure she wouldn’t tell you to get the hell out.” Dean started. “Just me.” He shrugged, leaning on the doorframe. “And, if she does, then I guess I’d find a nearby motel.” What else could he have done? “I have to at least try.” He added softly. 

“Fine.” He sighed, caving. “You do realize that tomorrow is Christmas Eve, right? And that stores are going to be hell?” He got out of bed. 

He nodded. “She’s worth it. Oh, and find out if the animal shelter is open!” He beamed, glad that Sam agreed. He was honestly hoping having Sam go with him would up his chances of you letting him stay. 

It took a moment for Sam to realize what his brother had said, making him follow him out into the hall. “Animal shelter?!” He furrowed his brows. “What the hell are you getting her?!” He called out, not getting an answer. Now he was very curious.

Your hair was up in a messy bun as you relaxed with the book you had grabbed. You had your feet on the coffee table (that had seen better days), and a cup of cocoa on the end table next to you. You furrowed your brows and looked towards the window when you could have sworn you heard Baby. It seemed to fade after a moment, so you shook your head and went back to the book. Not even two minutes later, however, it was louder. “What the hell?” You muttered, putting in a piece of paper as a bookmark and getting up. Your eyebrows went up when you saw the Impala parking in front of the cabin. Moving to the door, you shivered as you opened it. The snow was coming down harder now, making the boys a tad hard to see as they got out of the beautiful black car. 

They both rushed towards the door, arms full. You stepped aside to let them in. Hearing a small bark, you stared at Dean. He gave you a bashful smile as he set some things down and uncovered the small dog in his other arm. “Merry Christmas.” He said lovingly. “You’ve been wanting a dog. So, I got you a dog.” His heart soared as you took the puppy and instantly melted. “His name is Bailey. That’s the name the shelter gave him.” He reached out to scratch behind his ear. 

“You let a dog in Baby?” You asked, giggling as Bailey licked your cheek. “Just because I wanted one? You always said no ‘dirty’ dogs in Baby, and that you didn’t want a ‘damn dog’.” You teased. 

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I was hoping this shows how sorry I am.” He shrugged. “I mean, Sammy’s been wanting a dog for years and I’ve never caved for him.” He chuckled. 

Sam shook his head. “I won’t argue. He’s cute.” He motioned to Bailey. “He’s a French Bulldog, and they said they don’t bark excessively.” He watched as you set him down. Instantly he was sniffing around, his entire backside moving as his very small tail ‘wagged’. “We got other presents for you, too.” He motioned to what Dean had set on the bed. 

“I didn’t need anything, guys. I just wanted a nice Christmas with you two.” You pulled them both into a hug. “Please tell me you brought food. I only bought enough for myself.” You laughed. 

“Of course.” Dean nodded, kissing your cheek. “Now, let’s exchange presents!” He beamed, honestly a bit more excited about the entire thing now. 

“Let’s.” You nodded. “I’ve been buying all year for you two.” You admitted with a light blush. “So, I’m hoping you guys like everything.” 

Dean grinned. “I know we will, babe.” 

#dean winchester x reader #dean x reader

[slut4thebroken]

Hear me out: Dominant Neil Lewis saying this to his best friend “I don’t like people touching what’s mine.” Because Neil is so the type who hates it when someone’s attention isn’t on him like he’s possessive and desperate for it.

Barely proofread lol but enjoy <3

I’m trying to get better at being able to post fics that don’t have a difinitive start and end lol. That’s the main reason it takes me so long to write :,)

“Dude, you look like you’re gonna blow a blood vessel or something.” Lucian said, making Neil huff. 

“She’s letting some random dickhead feel her up!” He said defensively, throwing his arms around in a wild gesture at the appalling sight. 

“She’s a grown adult… She can do what she wants.” Jonathan spoke carefully, not wanting to set him off even more. “And he’s barely even touched her..” 

“You know what? If she’s gonna act so careless, it’s only right that I look out for her.” He said, now sounding more determined than angry. 

“Neil… don’t do something stupid.” Lucien’s warning fell on deaf ears though. 

“He’s definitely gonna do something stupid..” Jonathan said to the other man just as Neil started storming over. 

“Finding everything okay?” He gritted with a forced smile, practically glaring daggers at the douchebag who thought he could come into his store and touch his friend like some fucking pervert. 

“Yeah, man. Thanks…” He replied, sounding a little confused. You gave Neil a questioning look, but he ignored it and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you into him. “Oh.. Sorry, I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.” He said to you, his tone almost making Neil feel guilty because the man genuinely seemed like he felt bad about this whole thing. 

“I don’t.” You said in a low voice, looking up at Neil and glaring at him.

“Yeah well she’s not interested in dating right now anyway.” He said definitively, making your eyes narrow even more. 

“Yes I am.”

“You’re not even her type.” That made you scoff, even though.. he was technically correct. “If you’re not planning on renting a movie you can see yourself out.” Neil said sweetly, giving the man a saccharine smile. 

“Uh… okay then.” He said awkwardly, giving you another look before finally walking out. 

“What the fuck was that?” You hissed, gently elbowing him in the stomach to get him off of you. 

“Sexual harassment is not tolerated at Gumshoe Video.” You stared at him for a moment, trying to read his tone, but you quickly realized that he wasn’t joking. 

“You can’t be serious.” You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“He’s not even your type anyway, I don’t get why you were talking to him in the first place.” 

“It’s called making a friend. If you tried that every once in a while, you might have more friends than just the three people in this room.” You were quickly getting more frustrated and annoyed with him. 

“That’s what friendship is? So I can start feeling you up then?” You rolled your eyes at his immature response. 

“God- Neil, you can’t keep doing this!”

“I don’t like people touching what’s mine.” He said in a low voice as he took a step closer, bringing a light blush to your cheeks.

“We’ve been over this,” You sighed. 

“Yeah, we have. And yet you seem to keep forgetting.” He snarked. Knowing this conversation wasn’t going to get you anywhere, you rolled your eyes and walked over to flop down onto the couch next to Jonathan. He gave you an apologetic smile and you laughed quietly in response. Honestly you were surprised Neil didn't have a problem with you interacting with his friends. Maybe he just knew that they wouldn’t be stupid enough to try and make a move on you. 

“You're welcome by the way, for saving you from that creep.” He called out, making you roll your eyes again with an exaggerated huff. You’re not going to ever admit it because he’d start using it as an excuse for acting like this, but you were a little uncomfortable with the way that guy was touching you. Sure it was a playful hand on your shoulder, but you felt embarrassed and awkward, especially because you could practically feel Neil’s eyes on you throughout the whole interaction. 

“I was fine.” You grumbled, sinking into the couch a little and sulking. Truthfully, you kind of liked his protective nature. It made you feel wanted. But the longer this went on, the stronger that feeling became, making him even more overbearing to the point where you wondered if you’d ever actually be able to get a boyfriend while you were still friends with Neil. 

#neil lewis smut #neil lewis x reader #neil lewis #watching the detectives #cillian murphy #smut prompt list #smut prompts

[chiquitafresa]

~Vox headcanon~

Artist here! These are my personal headcanons and headcanons that I stole from others! So enjoy :)

-Vox often like to go on days working in his office and can forget to take breaks -When this happens Val or a Velvette will come in and drag him out, They only do this when Vox try to talk his way out -Wait wait! I need to finish this! -Vox you have been in there for a week. You’re coming with me and it final. -Vox absolutely have a aquarium filled with all type of sharks, and he knows the name of each one by memory -Vox why you have 100 different sharks? They all look the same- -THEY DO NOT, see! Ava and Levi look totally different! -Vox there’s no difference at all, how the fuck you know which one is which? -Vox will fight you if you touch his food, doesn’t matter who you are he will fight -Valentino is a example of this(hint:look at his antennas) -Vox doesn’t need to eat like other demons but it helps keep his battery at 100% -Sleep also helps with this, and so is eating battery’s Don’t ask how he find out -Vox mistaken a battery pack as chocolate bar -Vox have a cable tail (am not explaining) -said tail can be use to plug into a outlet and let him charge -main reason why he can stay up for countless nights -But the tail can be hidden, so Vox only let it out when he’s low on energy or is comfortable. Bonus: it’s every sensitive when touched -Someone please do a fanfic on this- -Vox eyes are connected to every camera of his, so he constantly watch and see everything in hell But do to this he can get easily overloaded or overwhelmed, so he doesn’t do it often -Vox likes to play with Val fluff -Val really likes it when he does -Vox helped Velvette and Valentino to become overlords when he first find them -So both of them view him with respect and high admiration -but their assholes when showing it -they never go too far tho -Vox have a whole mansion for a closet like Barbie in the dream house -but it all the same suit with different colors -Vox have many jobs before, shown in “stay gone” -Vox lies when it comes to these jobs but they believe him because how good of a business man he is -he most definitely started a cult -The cult only got bigger in hell without him knowing -Vox actually have a huge fan base, they constantly fighting against Alastor fans and their winning since Alastor hasn’t been there in over 7 years -most of them actually come from Vox old cult and continue it In his name but in hell -I mean who else is going to buy a 9000$ cereal -Valentino got really close to making a p0rn movie of Vox, for himself of course (Vox didn’t know this) -but Vox back out in the last minute because of work, so there’s Val Dream -Val was mostly mad about this, often trying to get Vox to reconsider -Bro cry over that for a whole week in his room,and is still sad about it till this day -Alastor and Vox have a equal obsession with each other -I don’t care if you think it one sided, Al is obsessed in seeing this man break and how much attention his getting

-Alastor will watch Vox in the shadows if he been inactivate for a while -Vox some how got his brand in heaven, but he can’t go there though the technology. But he still gets the money from there so it doesn’t matter for him -The other Vee’s doesn’t know this, it was part of the deal he made with Lucifer -Vox does feel sorry for accidentally for damaging Val antennas, Val on the other hand doesn’t really care about it that much -Am…sorry Val -For the least time Vox, it fine! It might take a while to heal but it’s fine -Vox watch Val all the time though the cameras in hell, do to his bad vision and damage antenna -Val doesn’t mind being watched and even likes it at times -Vox and Velvette will have days where they replace their parts together, Vox helps removing her limbs while Velvette helps repair/replacing wires -When Vox first replaced his head with a whole new TV he needed to heal for a whole month before he can walk around -Velvette and Val make sure Vox was never alone and help him with everything -Vox is such a sugerdaddy for Val And Velvette, he buy them anything they want -Vox, Velvette, and Valtino have matching rings, they sometime wear it and sometimes not -Vox likes all type of radio, but he can’t show his love for them because of Alastor -Vox 100% record all of Alastors radio shows as soon as he got here, over 200 recordings -Vox was a fan of Alastor when he was alive, and he still like listening to him (before he left for 7 years) -During those 7 years, Vox slowly got more paranoid by the next day, making his reaction with Alastor coming back… weird -Vox take anxiety pills to help with this, he also have ADHD medication that he takes everyday ———————————- Sorry if this was short! I just wanted to put down all my ideas somewhere for others (and me) to see! (can someone explain what happened to the bold words? It appears like that and I can’t undo it)

#Vox #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #voxval #vox x alastor #the vees #headcanons #vox headcanons #Vee’s headcanons #Alastor #Valentino #velvette #radiostatic #Valentino is a whole warning #Vox x Alastor but the hate you kind of way #Vox is a workaholic #Vox can be every paranoid

[rue-bennett]

Hey! Can you explain to me the dwd drama?? I see everyone talking about it but no one says what happened i dont get it

Here is my attempt, buckle in and get worried, darling:

Olivia’s directing the movie starring Florence & Harry (whose role originally went to Shia LaBeouf, but more on that later), which filmed from October 2020 to February 2021. Olivia was engaged to Jason Sudeikis but their relationship officially ended in November 2020. Olivia and Harry met on set and started officially dating in January 2021. Officially. So, all along there’s been intense scrutiny of Olivia from Harry stans who are convinced they’re gonna date him or he’s gay or no woman is good enough for him or whatever reason they have to vilify her (because they can’t handle that he’s not their little puppet doll). Not to say she didn’t do shit. Let’s get into that soon!

(So yeah. The relationship timeline is sketch. Personally, I don’t really give a shit about strangers ~allegedly~ cheating on each other, it’s not my business, Jason isn’t exactly a sweetheart even if he’s currently America’s Sweetheart because he plays one on tv. Relationships break up, lots of directors fuck stars, it’s definitely juicy but it’s not that noteworthy if it weren’t for the star power involved. Also, in summer 2022 Jason had custody papers served to Olivia *while she was onstage* promoting DWD at CinemaCon. That was a week! However, I’d also like to not that Flo is close with Jason, so it’s not like she’s a neutral party either. She was still very much in a serious relationship with Zach Braff at the time and Zach & Jason are besties. So. There is that!)

Back to during filming, Shia was fired for clashing on set with the cast and crew (namely Florence) and it was widely reported back in 2021 during filming and then brought up in the press a week or two ago that Olivia fired him because she wanted to make her set a safe space for women or whatever, and with Shia’s history of abusing women and anyone really, makes sense, right? Well. Shia’s apology tour is currently happening where he’s clearing the air/making shit up/what’s to be expected from that fucko, who I don’t trust (he recently admitted his movie Honey Boy, which is autobiographical and about how Shia’s real life dad abused him, was completely made up to make Shia seem more likable and that his dad never touched him) and the timing was convenient. However. He did have a video that Olivia sent to him, basically begging for him to come back to DWD and saying she didn’t want to give up if he didn’t (alleging that he quit, he wasn’t fired) and spoke condescendingly about Florence, talking about how if Shia and “MISS FLO” (the attitude with how she said it fjsjcjd) could work things out she’d love to have him back. Anyway, Harry was cast in the role and Olivia and him have been dating for a while, so good-ish for them I guess.

There are intense rumors about Olivia being unprofessional on set/sneaking off with Harry/Florence generally being unhappy on set is the big thing. There are rumors she was gone for so long that Flo had to step in and tell crew what to do, but I highly it was that extreme. There is at least one assistant director always there, and things can be dramatic and bad without being like ludicrous. But people will insist on making things up because they sound good/bad! Regardless—twas bad! (There’s also the whole female director takedown conversation but…)

And Flo has made it really almost obnoxiously but also hilariously obvious that she doesn’t like Olivia or want to promote the movie—she’s THE LEAD but she’s done very little press and barely even promotes it on Instagram. And btw, a certain amount of press (usually a large amount!) is written into the contracts that actors sign when they sign onto movies. It’s not a casual thing that she missed the Venice Film Festival press conference for the movie SHE STARS IN at its WORLD PREMIERE.

A quick note about the promotion—Olivia has been promoting it…a lot. And in a way that really rubs a lot of people the wrong way. It’s definitely being painted by her as super feminist, a female orgasm movie where men don’t cum (yes, she literally said that). Then Florence said how “When it’s reduced to your sex scenes, or to watch the most famous man in the world go down on someone, it’s not why we do it,” and didn’t mention Olivia AT ALL. And with the major marketing just being around Harry eating Flo out when there’s a whole movie around that scene presumably…kinda fucked up.

When she was gallivanting around in her purple suit with her granny lol, not on a delayed flight nor Really having to rush back for Dune 2. (Yes, she and Timmy likely have different shooting schedules, but let’s be honest, he’s been lazying around Italy like Elio in Call Me By Your Name, she could’ve gotten a full day off if she’d wanted it.) It was a huge fuck you to Olivia and Harry, she’s allegedly been really annoyed that their relationship has taken all the attention away from the film and from her acting (which I’ve heard is great in this movie) and it’s just a fucking mess.

And I’m crying because it’s not even over yet.

Flo went to the red carpet and premiere screening for DWD. They were all separated from each other and it is sooooo obvious and messy. And let me say…it’s not normal for a lead actor (Florence) to not even stand or sit next to their director. The Harry part isn’t as weird because they were trying for once to cool their relationship and not make the headlines about that. Instead! Just about the Flo & Olivia beef.

(Btw. The Harry-Chris Pine spitting thing btw isn’t real. It’s funny and people ran with it, but there is no spit. There’s multiple angles of it, and no. Chris found his sunglasses in his lap + thought Harry & Olivia would talk but didn’t. Harry didn’t spit on him. Funny thought though! Fun reaction meme out of it though!)

I think some of it is definitely blown up for the tabloids to get as many people to see the movie as possible because bad press, good press, any press, etc. and things (like the spit rumor) run way out of control on social media. I also think we don’t know Everything yet and maybe never will. But anyways! There goes my sanity! Worry, darling!

#celeb talk #don’t worry darling #asks #anonymous #i’m fact checking oh my g od #this isnt even all of it probably but i’m going insane #this took me like a half hour #hope this clears it up a bit? #also after writing this now i hate everyone fjsjfdjd they’re so annoying #chris pine #harry styles #florence pugh #olivia wilde #don’t worry drama #1k

[rummels]

weight on my shoulders

relationships: platonic Reader & Chan & Changbin word count: ~2300 warnings: none tags: fluff, platonic intimacy, gender neutral reader summary: You're in a weird and uncomfortable headspace, your friends and flatmates Chan and Changbin help you with lots of soft affection and understanding.

read on ao3

You quietly plod into the living room, your feet hidden in thick fluffy socks causing you to sneak up to the couch unnoticed. Your frame is completely concealed by an oversized hoodie that reaches down to the middle of your thighs, tickling the back of your bare legs a bit when you stop a short distance away. You’re not sure if you like the feeling, it feels a bit like tiny zips of static prickle against your skin where the fabric brushes against you just the tiniest bit. It causes you to frown, huffing a tiny breath out of your nose. Everything feels a bit…off. The figure sitting on the couch hadn’t noticed you until now, engrossed in some TV show or movie, but the quiet noise makes the man look over to you.

“Hey,” Chan says softly, a warm smile tugging on his lips.

“I didn’t even notice you coming in. You wanna join me?”

He pats the space next to him in invitation, raising his eyebrows slightly in question and rearranging his position a bit so his legs are not stretched out across the couch. You tilt your head in a curious gesture and nod slightly, shuffling over and plomping yourself into the newly vacated spot, immediately leaning into Chan’s side. It’s not uncommon for you to seek out physical contact with your best friend and flatmate, the both of you sharing and enjoying skinship in a very loving yet platonic way.

It’s quiet for several minutes, Chan again taken in by whatever is shown on TV. You couldn’t care less, your brain going both zero and a thousand miles per minute, leaving you feeling a little overwhelmed and disoriented, not really knowing what to do with yourself while thoughts zip around in your head without you really being able to grab onto a single one of them. Chan’s hand unconsciously wanders across the back of the couch to you, his fingertips starting to slowly comb through the hair at your neck. You let out a low hum and close your eyes. This is nice. Somehow grounding. Just the tiniest bit, you push your head against the touch to encourage it and let Chan know to not stop his ministrations. He looks over to you again.

“Are you okay?” He looks a bit concerned. Usually you’re much more talkative, especially after a long day at work, wanting to share whatever annoyed or excited you that day or simply let out your annoyance about some frustrating project or other. Your brain rambles at you from the moment you wake up and simply letting your thoughts out and sharing them is often very relaxing to you, especially when you don’t have to be worried about being written off as an annoying chatterbox. Which you never have to worry about with Chan. Never had to, actually. So your continued silence is definitely raising some worries in your attentive friend.

You look at him, obviously giving the answer some thought before you scrunch your nose up and nod-shake your head in a definitely a little weird display of uncertainty. Immediately, Chan tunes in on you more, his whole body angling towards you a bit more while he studies your face.

“Did something happen?”

You shake your head no.

“Are you having a bad day?”

You shake your head again.

“Hm…are you getting sick?”

Again, a definite no, you shake your head.

“So simply a bad day maybe?”

You begin to negate that too when he hastily adds “You know that would be okay too, yeah? You can have a bad day without any reason and it’s still okay and valid. Some days are just fucked.”

A small grin sneaks onto your face, knowing he is about to quote one of those silly motivational Tiktoks you both send each other sometimes. He grins back, relieved at seeing your reaction.

“And there’s no way to unfuck them. Try again tomorrow,” he says and can’t stop himself from giggling a bit before ruffling your hair affectionately. You clear your throat, it feeling a bit scratchy after actually being silent for quite some time – you hadn’t even consciously realized that until now.

“Don’t worry, I’m not feeling bad, I’m just –“ You try to find the right words, frowning a bit, “-off? I don’t know,” you trail off, hoping he might understand. You yourself are not even able to understand it but Chan is smart, he gets people. And maybe he understands. Even if not, you know you don’t have to worry, he will simply accept it and will not try to force something out of you just for the sake of his own peace of mind.

You are proven right when he softly nods his head, his eyes deep in thought until he snaps back to you and gifts you one of his blinding smiles. “Come here, babygirl,” he says while pulling you over and manhandling you into a cuddling position against his side, halfway in his lap, his hands again finding themselves in your hair again. You make a little squawking noise at the pet name but your weird aversion to speaking right now is definitely not helping your protest. Factor in that Chan knows how much you actually secretly like the term of endearment? You’ve got no ground to stand on. The voices in your head have just started to discuss if this is something to be happy or disgruntled about when you feel his fingernails scratch against your scalp and you think you could start purring like a fucking cat any second now. Fuck this. There’s no snark left in you right now to defend yourself and you actually start to feel a tiny bit more like yourself so why bother?

Chan goes back to watching his show while holding you against himself, switching between softly combing through your hair with his fingers and giving you head scritches. You feel weirdly small, which seems a bit ridiculous to you considering you’re actually exactly the same height as him and also not exactly small in any other way. But it’s so nice, you melt more and more into him, your eyes drifting shut every now and then until your weird brain swirls manage to drag you up again.

By the time the front door opens and closes again, it has turned dark outside and Chan perks up, looking over the back of the couch towards the hallway.

“YA!” A shout echoes through the apartment, announcing the arrival of Changbin as he throws his backpack somewhere into the hallway.

You flinch at the sudden noise, also moving your head a bit but Chan suddenly has a rather firm grip in your hair and keeps you in place. Eyes widening, you feel like your pulse is suddenly going down in a very relaxing way. What the hell? The effect is too nice to fight against though, so you decide to go with it and stay where you are. Maybe Chan really does know best. Your own brain definitely doesn’t feel like it’s able to deal with any responsibilities and decisions right now.

“Tone it down, Binnie.” Chan’s voice vibrates against the side of your face. Huh, when did you slide all the way over to rest your face against his chest? You instinctively try to perk up again in surprise, you’ve also started to develop a bit of crick in the upper part of your back from the position you were in. This time Chan lets you but keeps his hand at the back of your neck which you are weirdly thankful for. Changbin chooses that moment to stick his head into the room and, seeing the two of you cuddled up on the couch, wiggles his eyebrows in a suggestive manner while smirking like the little gremlin he sometimes tends to be.

“You’re trying to win them over while I’m not home? Unfair business, Christopher,” he playfully scolds Chan and again you manage to smile. Yay, an emotion!

The two of them like to put up a whole charade of pretending to heroically and dramatically trying to win your heart over, each trying to ‘win’ against the other. All three of you are very much aware of the fact that this is all a game. You love them both to bits, would probably gladly cut off your own hand for them if the situation demanded it. But you’re also all very safe in the knowledge that nothing sexual would ever come into your relationship. Between you preaching about open and honest communication, Chan’s will to provide and care and give love and Changbin’s absolute lack of any kind of shame or reservations when it comes to feelings and affection, the three of you have created a very nurturing and loving environment in your shared apartment.

Chan’s chuckle is audible next to you before he speaks. “No wooing today, I’m just trying to cuddle y/n’s brain into submission because we’re feeling a bit weird today,” he explains, his thumb rubbing small circles into the soft skin under your ear while his hand lays on your neck.

“Oh no, do we have a scrambled brain today?” Changbin sits down next to you on the couch and leans closer, peering into your face like it may just give him all the answers on its own. You nod and pull a frowny face.

“They don’t like to talk right now.” Chan lets you out of his arms as you reach over for Changbin, going to lean your forehead against his big shoulder. But he reaches down and cups your face in his hands, holding it and looking at you while obviously thinking something over.

“Can I try something?” he ends up asking. “It might help but you need to tell me if you feel uncomfortable with it today, you know I will not be mad if you do, right?”

Having no clue which brilliant idea he has cooked up underneath those fluffy curls, you nod your head in agreement. You don’t need to worry, that much you definitely know.

Changbin hurries to shoo Chan off the couch and pushes you down with sure hands until you’re fully laying down. You only manage to look up at him for a couple of seconds before he is once again pulling and pushing at you until you end up on your stomach. He also tugs at your hoodie a bit until it doesn’t form any big creases against your body anymore and then you feel a warm hand at the small of your back.

“I will lay down on top of you now, is that okay?”, he asks softly and you feel a flutter of excitement in your chest. Yes. That would be perfect actually. Suddenly the fact that he’s not already settled on top of you seems almost cruel to you and you wiggle around a bit, nodding your head in clear agreement and permission.

He can’t help but poke your butt – of course he can’t – before crawling over you and then slowly letting all of his weight push down against you. You let out a small grunt of contentment, the air getting pushed out of your lungs and you feel like your bones turn into liquid. Perfect. This is exactly what you needed. Like putting on 3D glasses in the cinema, two separate yet connected, overlayered parts of yourself seem to finally slot together and begin to form a coherent version of yourself again. Changbin moves around a tiny bit still, finding the perfect spot and position to rest in while you turn your head to the side, peering into the dimly lit living room, your eyelids fluttering a bit.

Chan moves into your field of vision and crouches down to be at eye level with you. He’s got his signature ‘proud loving parent’ smile on and usually you would tease him for it – to hide how much you absolutely love get looked at like that – but right now it’s perfect for your mushy brain. He reaches out and tugs a bit on your hood.

“Would you like to put that on?”

You feel even less like talking right now, your body and mind almost like molasses. It’s a sweet, heady feeling and you smile, blinking slowly once and hoping he understands. He cocks his head to the side and raises an amused eyebrow.

“Is that a yes?”

You give a slow long blink again, probably smiling like an idiot. He chuckles and reaches over, slipping your hood over your head and arranging it in a way that makes you peek out of it like a little ferret out of its den. The fact that they know you so well, aware that you like to have your hearing muffled sometimes, feeling safe inside your hoodie, makes you so happy that you give another slow blink while contently scrunching up your nose with a smile. Chan boops it with his finger and stands up.

“You okay down there?”, you hear Changbin checking in from somewhere on top of you and you give a tiny wiggle so as to not accidentally throw him off of you but still answer his question ….somehow.

“Perfect. Just let me know when I should get up again, please don’t just yeet me off when it gets to be too much, alright?”

You wiggle again, completely settling in now and closing your eyes. Your head is not quiet, it never is when you’re awake. But right now there’s only a soft song buzzing in the back of your mind – you probably heard it somewhere on your way home – while you think about the new movie that’s running in the cinemas and you wanted to go to with both Chan and Changbin, your mind switching over to remember the time you all went to Changbin’s problematic cousin’s birthday party last month to crash it as a fake throuple, nearly sending the whole conservative side of his family into a collapse. Also there’s this brownie recipe Felix shared with you, maybe you’re gonna try that out tomorrow…

#stray kids #bang chan #seo changbin #skz fluff #skz x reader #chan x reader #changbin x reader #seo changbin x reader #bang chan x reader #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n #skz #skz fic #platonic intimacy #fanfic #my stuff

[comet-forgot-you]

Can you please write bottom river x fem reader 🙏🙏🙏

crave

river x fem!reader

summary: river fucks herself on your fingers. (based on this.)

warnings: 18+ pls, smut, fingering, degrading, begging, think thats it tbh.

a/n: another one thank you. enjoy this river fic, its the last you’ll EVER get. no its not i’m just a jokester. enjoy. do not repost for any reason.

work was killing you. constant paperwork piled up for you to do, forcing you to work it out on your off days. when river was at your house, the time you were meant to be spend with her was spent on your computer typing away at whatever stupid work your boss had given you. it made river so mad.

she missed your gentle touches, missed hearing you talk about whatever, she missed laying in silence watching whatever movie the two of you had heard about, and fuck did she miss the way you fucked her.

she was so pent up, it had been weeks since you had touched her and she was starting to go insane. she had never craved you more than she did now, and seeing you, blue light glasses perched on your nose, in an oversized shirt you had stolen from her, and those pretty panties that just barely peeked out from the way you sat, it only spurred her need further. she needed you, and she needed you now.

she set the glass previously full of water down into the empty sink, eyes trained on you. her fingers gripped the edge of the counter, you were so hot and you weren’t even trying. river let out a huff of air, pushing herself away from the counter. you looked up at her as she made her way across the living room, sitting down right next to you.

“hmm?” you hum, returning your attention to the laptop in your lap. river shrugged, her shoulder rubbing against yours as she did so. you look over to her, the familiar look of want painted on her face. her eyes were darker than their usual shade of brown, a slight pout on her lips, it sent a wave of heat throughout your body. you sigh, “river, i can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s up,” you whisper, setting your laptop down on the coffee table.

its quiet for a moment, river’s eyebrows furrowed slightly. “just need you s’ bad,” she murmured, leaning closer to you and pressing featherlight kisses against your neck. she takes your soft hand into hers and guides it to cup her cunt, a soft whine falling from her lips.

“fuck,” you mumble, eyes shutting tightly at the feeling of her hardly clothed cunt.

“you won’t even have to do anything, i’ll do all the work, just need you s’bad.” her voices is breathy and needy against your ear.

“fine,” you mutter. river smiles against your neck. she’s quick to pull her underwear off and straddle your lap. you cant help but run a finger through her wet folds.

“fuck,” she hisses, bucking against your fingertips. she grabs hold of your wrist, guiding you to her dripping hole. she sinks down on your fingers, grinding into the palm of your hand, drawing a needy moan from her lips.

she bounces on your fingers, grinding so your fingers hit that spongey spot that has her eyes rolling back. “you’re such a slut riv,” you mumble, curling your fingers as she grinds into your palm. “so fucking needy, look at you, your fucking yourself on my fingers.” her walls flutter around your fingers at you degrading words. a high pitched whine leaves her throat at your teasing words.

she keeps a steady pace for a few minutes before she’s breathless, moans falling from her lips. she wraps her fingers around your wrist, guiding you to fuck in and out of her. “please, can’t do it, need your help s’bad,” she whispers. you let out a humored huff of air.

“really? said you’d do it all by yourself and look at you now.” you roll your eyes at her and her walls flutter around your fingers once more.

“stop being mean, please js’ help me,” she whines, contouring to fuck herself with your fingers.

“really want me to stop being mean? i know you like it, don’t try to hide it,” you mumble. river groans at your words, letting go of your wrist to continue riding your fingers. your free hand is quick to grip her hip to halt her movements.

you curl your fingers inside of her, your free hand lifting her shirt over her breasts. you wrap your lips around her nipple, fucking your fingers in and out of her at a fast pace. moans fall from river’s lips uncontrollably as your thumb moves to circle her clit roughly.

“fuck.. fuck- i’m so close, please, can i? please js’,” her words are cut off by a loud moan, “i’m gonna cum, please, baby. need to cum so bad,” she whispers, her fingers wrapping in your hair.

you let off of her nipple with a loud pop, looking up at her blown out eyes. “go on, slut. cum on my fingers,” you murmur. her eyes roll back and her orgasm washes over her.

“fuckfuckfuck,” she whines, bucking into your palm helplessly.

“such a fuckin’ slut,” you murmur, pulling your fingers from her leaking cunt. she whines at the emptiness, head falling to your shoulder.

“needed you s’ bad, baby. you dont even know, fuck,” she whispers, pressing kisses against your shoulder.

reblogs much appreciated :D

#mikey madison #mikey madison x reader #wlw smut #river all souls #river x reader #all souls #all souls movie #river #i want mikey madison #i want river #all souls smut #river smut

[ladythornofrivia]

endless reds and blues

Pair: Kakucho x Reader x Ran

Warnings: threesome, ran is charming, kakucho is aloof, but still sweet. Toxic drama, dreams, secrets, side characters are douchebags, attempted murder, violence, strong language, fluff.

a/n: i wanted to continue with this series also. After all, this series is the reason why i started posting here on tumblr. Can’t let it go to waste, and I love writing this story, but I’m having a hard time with plotline in the middle.

(Note: Report if someone decides to steal the synopsis and my story. And notify me. Thank you) ❤️

chapter seven: three is three

“Rise and shine, little mermaid,” a voice whispered into your ear.

“Get up, we’re hungry,” another voice said.

Groaning, your eyes blinded by the close up light, unveiling the tall silhouettes. With your eyes completely wide open, you spotted Ran and Kakucho, shirtless—beholds your eyes.

“Guys, what’s going on? I thought we’re having a sleepover,” you said, yawning. “You know, watching movies and whatnot. I’m not here to cook.”

Ran titled his head. “What are you talking about? We have a free day today during the weekend. I’ll even help you in the kitchen. Besides, you already have a sleepover without us.”

“Already?”

“Yeah, you silly mermaid,” Ran said, ruffling your bright, red hair. Gently, his fingers gripped slightly and trailed it downwards to the ends. When he looked into your eyes once more, his tongue clicked. “I guess we should change things up a little.”

Your face paled. “What?”

“You heard him,” Kakucho said with his folded arms. “Now take off your clothes.”

WHAT?!

Your hands instantly tucked your body over with a comfy blanket.

“You guys are insane, I am tired,” you told them, panicking.

“You heard Kakucho, little mermaid,” Ran said, inching his face closer to yours, nearly touching your lips with his. “Take off of your clothes. I want to see not only your beautiful face, but your beautiful body. I bet you taste good.” Ran produced a sound sucking from his lips and teeth, as if thirsty.

“Come on, red doll,” Kakucho said.

“Don’t say it like that, Kakucho,” Ran said. “You have to flirt better than that! You’ve got to do what I do, okay? Like this…”

Then Ran leaned in and plunged his kiss against yours. With his hand grabbed behind your neck, he pulled you in deeper, while his other hand grasped onto your waist. Meanwhile, Kakucho tucked his staggering breath in, his crotch tightened in between his pants. Kakucho grabbed his crotch and fondled, moaning while keeping his eyes on you and Ran

Ran unbuttoned his suit first, then unbuttoned your pajama pants, revealing your pink underwear.

“Ooh,” Ran began, “Look what we have here. Not only you have a cute face, but wearing a cute underwear to match your cute face.” He nipped his teeth against your lower lips and tugged it after another long kiss. “You’re way better than any girls I’ve fucked. Kakucho, here, he’s a virgin.”

Somehow you remember the weird encounter you have with Kakucho at your apartment building with him being shirtless and sweating, as if he was in a pornographic magazine.

“I don’t think he’s a virgin,” you told Ran.

“You’ve fucked him already?”

“No—no, I didn’t—”

“Ooh, I was just teasing. You’re still blushing, I see. I see that I still have good taste in women. A proper woman like you.” Ran kissed your neck, then unstrapped the spaghetti straps on your shoulders, revealing your breasts.

“Based on your reaction, you’re enjoying this,” Ran concluded.

Looking back at Kakucho, his pants came undone, his pants ambushed around his ankles. Taking a glimpse, you saw Kakucho getting hard at the sight of you.

When Ran had you lay down on your backside, a cool sheets pressed down against your warm skin.

As usual, Ran slid down your underwear painfully slow. But Kakucho shoved Ran out of the way and ripped your pink underwear and spread your legs far apart to lick your cunt. Somehow you managed to get your legs closed but Kakucho insisted on keeping them open, even removing your hand from blocking their soon-to-be favorite view.

“Relax, princess,” Kakucho said. “I’ll take good care of you.” Then plunged his lips to yours. Like Ran’s minty breath, Kakucho’s lips tasted sweet, smelled like coffee.

You love mint and you love coffee. Combining them altogether, you wanted a minted coffee drink.

“You like it, princess,” Kakucho said, ducking down to lick your wet folds. “I love you, (y/n). I don’t think I could live without tasting your beautiful pussy.”

Then he dove in, leaving you breathless. Clutching his hair, your head threw back with a breathless moan. As Ran climbed up onto the bed—his bed—and placed himself in front of you, shoving his cock into your mouth.

“Take it, my little mermaid. I knew you like the way you tasted my cock ever since you saw me naked by walking into the wrong room. I don’t mind you walking in on me anytime,” Ran said, thrusting with a heaving, pleasurable sigh.

After that, Ran and Kakucho took turns on pleasuring you through oral sex. By the time they came, both Ran and Kakucho dismounted from the bed and debated who’s better at fucking your mouth.

Blushing, you covered yourself up, watching them with a heaving chest.

Then both Ran and Kakucho looked at you attentively. And Ran spoke up. “So, do you like how fucked you?”

You swallowed, still tasting them.

“Is it good, princess,” Kakucho asked.

You said nothing, but stared at them in awe, not looking at their girth.

“I know you’re a virgin, sweetheart. So, which one of us wants to take your virginity?”

Staggered, you still looked at them in horror. You didn’t want to take your virginity just yet.

“What shall we do, Kakucho? This sweet girl is thirsty and still can’t decide who’s better at fucking.”

Kakucho stayed silent. “Let her decide on who she wants to ride more.”

“Shall we test that theory? After all, I like doing a hands-on experience. If I do get her pregnant, I’ll make sure I’ll be the best baby daddy ever.”

Then Kakucho climbed on top of you, with his hands placed on either side of your head. With his hardened cock aligned into your entrance, he said, “Tell me if you want to stop.”

“I don’t want you to stop,” you blurted, not knowing why you said this.

“Hey, I want to join in on the fun!” Ran complained.

Suddenly your position switched. You in the middle while Kakucho is at the top and Ran at the bottom, clutching and kneading on your ass, massaging.

You wanted Ran and Kakucho do have their dicks inside you; they could see it in your eyes, so without hesitation, their cocks thrusted in, your cunt and you ass stretched out as you let out a pleasant groan, gyrating.

Giving an indication, Ran and Kakucho paced themselves until they spill the seed inside you and switched positions again. This time, Ran humped against your pussy and Kakucho rammed his cock in between your buttocks. The quiet room filled with erotic sounds until they spilled another cum inside you until they passed out with their cocks still in you.

*~~*~~*

Waking up with a sharp gasp after a long nap is already exhausting. Everyday seemed so normal comparing to the days where you get to spend with the boys. And dealing with their fangirls is bad enough as a last straw. Why on earth it has to be this way? Nevertheless, you get up and start your day.

~~~

How on earth could you dream something like that? It’s unusual and sensual. Seeing Ran and Kakucho in your dreams will be impossible on talking them today. You’re okay with the other members, but with Kakucho and Ran, you tried to find ways to avoid them all the day without raising suspicions.

When Ran approached you with a smile, you smiled back but your eyes averted away quickly.

“Something’s wrong, little mermaid?” Ran asked, his hand ran down to your hair, which made you flinched a little.

“No, nothing’s wrong,” you said with an awkward smile.

“Why struggling? Is there something that I did? You want a mint?” When you shook your head, Ran grabbed and ate a piece into his mouth.

Yes, in my dreams.

“Nothing’s wrong. I’ll call you later when I get to your place, okay?”

Ran nodded. “Sure!”

Before removing yourself away, you asked, “Did I accidentally walk in on you naked?”

Ran’s took a double take. “What?”

“Nothing! Have a nice day!” Then you fled back into the classroom, when you’re supposed to remember the contract that you made a deal with Kokonoi.

Rindou came over by Ran’s side. “Hey, bro. I got the phone number from this hot chick who supposedly is popular at a hostess club. Bro? Big bro?” His hand waved over Ran’s pale face. “Hey, what’s gotten into you?” he asked again, his hands rocked Ran back and forth by the shoulders.

Ran’s pale face suddenly went red. “Nothing!” Then fled back to their private lunch area.

Clueless, Rindou is baffled by Ran’s unusual reaction.

~~~

When Kakucho came by at your place to pick you up for a study session at Bonten’s place, you felt eerily quiet, even though everything that you have seen is nothing but a dream. Good thing his sports car doesn’t smell anything but coffee.

“So, how’s your day, princess,” he asked.

You flinched at the nickname he gave you. “Nothing special. I, uh, just having a rough time with my assignments.”

“I can help you if you like—”

“No thanks! I can handle it myself!”

Noticing the tight clutch onto your bag, Kakucho replied with, “Did I say something wrong, princess? We can discuss if you like. I’ll always be here if you need me with anything.”

Scratching your arm, your voice strained with, “I just need to find a quiet space to relax, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure, anything for you,” Kakucho said. “Say, do you like Starbucks? I could get us some coffee to drink and something to eat.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine,” you said, waving your hands in panic.

But it’s already too late. He ordered you a sweet caramel drink with whip cream and a glazed danish, while Kakucho ordered a hot cup of joe and two club sandwiches. He handed you one and told you that it’s okay to eat in his sports car. Nonetheless, you ate. Weirdly, you found everything strange. Why is everything so weird to me?

“I didn’t know you’re into coffee. I thought you’d be more like a guy who’s into energy drinks more.”

Kakucho shook his head. “I hate those kinds of crap.”

“Oh, yeah,” you concurred, without looking at him.

When he stopped at the building, before opening the car door, Kakucho had beaten you to it. With the silence prevailing, you’re unsure what to say to him next during the elevator.

“You’ve been acting strange since this morning. Even with Ran. Is there something going between you two?”

“No,” you answered. “I just feel overwhelmed because of the fangirls in the school. I just don’t want to be in the way.”

Kakucho scoffed. “If anything, it’s the other way around.” Then his nonchalance turned into seriousness. “Tell me what’s going on.” Then Kakucho walked towards you, making you back up into the wall with his hands pinned down at the sides of your head, trapping you.

“I told you, you can tell me anything. I do want to get to know you. More than anything.”

You gulped, averting your gaze.

“Anything?”

Unknowingly, Kakucho slithered his hand around your hips and pulled your waist close to his.

“Tell me, princess. I’ll make you feel better.”

By the time elevator stopped, the doors opened, revealing Ran standing and watching the events unfold.

Now Ran also wanted an explanation.

Taglist: @galactict3a @colored-tr-panels @f1yh1gh @slay0368

#fanfiction #fanfic #x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo manji gang #tokrev #bonten x reader #reader insert #bonten #bonten smut #ran haitani #haitani ran x reader #ran x reader #haitani brothers #kakucho x reader #kakucho hitto #tokyo rev x reader #tokrev x reader #fluff #smut #my fic #drabbles #anime #manga #anime fanfic #reader #female reader #angst #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev

[steviesbicrisis]

A lot of things start to make sense since Eddie Munson enters his life.

It goes from the simple things: Eddie patiently explaining the mechanics of D&D so that Dustin would stop using the references against him; Eddie teaching him a few music facts and history, “did you know that Tony Iommi once blew up Richard Branson’s prize carp? Fucking Metal if you ask me”; Eddie helping him fix the drain in his new apartment “with all of your hair you never had to unclog it? You’re such a princess”.

But it’s more than that. Eddie also helps him figure out things about himself.

Like, he can be friends with someone without having that much in common, he’s that type of person who would drop everything he’s doing if someone he cared about would ask it, and also that, apparently, he has a type.

«You clearly have a thing for nerds,» Eddie tells him one day, teasingly.

«What? I definitely don’t!» Steve is outraged that he would even suggest that «I tolerate nerds because for some reason I’m surrounded by them.»

«Oh please! You just told me about your embarrassing crush on Robin, a huge nerd, smart, was in band, and knows like- ten languages. Then there’s Wheeler, also smart, also one of the biggest nerds that Hawkins has ever seen. Don’t let me even touch on the fact that you’re surrounded by baby nerds all the time» Eddie blinds him with a victorious grin «this is why all your other dates go to shit, Harrington. Trust me, date a nerd for a change.»

Steve wants to bite back and prove him wrong but, after Eddie says it, he can’t help think back to his dating history and everything makes sense.

Once again, Eddie helps him figure things out about himself.

But the biggest revelation Eddie helps him out with, comes only after.

Steve finds himself thinking more about this “nerd thing”, and his mind can’t help but go to Eddie himself. He’s a huge nerd, and he has become a big part of his life.

He finds himself noticing small things about him, like what rings he wears on which finger, how he styles his hair depending on his mood, how he smiles when the kids are close to figuring out the plot twists of his campaign, and especially how he always manages to have some sort of physical contact with him, whether by putting an arm on his shoulder, leaning closer to listen to what he’s talking about or grabbing his wrist to get his attention.

He has never been more aware of Eddie’s presence than now, it makes him jumpy but also, he notices, he waits for it, he wants any type of physical contact with him, and even a quick brush on his arm is enough to make his stomach flutter.

And Steve is not stupid. He might be a little oblivious, he might’ve been taught the wrong things -how queer people are the menace of society and how there’s nothing worse than being called “fag” for a man- but he’s been Robin’s best friend for so long that he knows better now.

And he also knows how he feels when he has a crush on someone.

The only option for him is to talk to Robin about it, both of them are surprised at how well Steve is taking it.

Well, he does cry a little bit, he tells Robin that he’s scared, he even tells her that he doesn’t want it, this new part of him that people would not accept him for. She understands, and she’s there every step of Steve’s sexual crisis until he just accepts it.

As if going through a bisexual crisis wasn’t enough, Steve finds himself going through another rite of passage for queer people: falling for a straight person.

Steve and Robin are working their shift at Family Video when a very excited Eddie Munson comes in «Harrington, give me your best romantic crap movie!»

«Eddie Munson, renting a romantic movie? Did aliens abduct you and brainwash you this morning?»

«Ah-ha, very funny! But I can’t do Star Wars on a first date, doesn’t set the right mood. You should know that better than me, lover boy.»

Steve wishes he had prepared himself more for the time Eddie would’ve talked about dating, but he didn’t and now he’s standing there at the counter, completely frozen, doing his best to not let his face fall right in front of his first boy crush. At least, the first one he’s aware of.

«Woah, really? I’m sorry for whoever the unlucky date is» Robin intercepts, and Steve could really kiss her for always knowing how to help him.

Steve can only estrange himself from the conversation, as Eddie is describing this “super hot girl” who is “way out of my league”. Robin ends up being the one helping him with the movie and Steve pretends to be busy with inventory in the back.

Robin comes to find him once Eddie is gone «I gave him the worst romantic movie I could think of.»

Steve chuckles and hugs her tight «thank you.»

Out of all the things Eddie has helped him out with, Steve wishes he would also teach him how to fall out of love with him.

[TBD: I'm fixing it I promise!! Sorry for the straight Eddie content guys lmao]

Part 2 | Part 3

#steddie #steve harrington #bi steve harrington #gay eddie munson #steve and eddie #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie headcanon #steve x eddie #platonic stobin #Steve falls first #Eddie will fall harder #sbc writes #ficlets

[freedomfireflies]

halsjwkoahejwk i need more mr & mrs hey soul sister!!! maybe some smut?? 😏😏

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

You do your best to ignore the aggravating British man storming after you as you slip your earring into your ear. “I already told you.”

He barrels through the doorway nonetheless, arms crossing as his irritated stare finds your profile. “Did you forget the fact that we’re married?”

“Did you forget the fact that I don’t care?” You turn now, mimicking his stance as you nod your chin at him. “I don’t see why it matters—”

“It matters because if somebody sees you on a fucking date with a man who isn’t your husband, then people are gonna talk,” he retorts, volume rising exponentially as your eyebrow quirks up. “Which is the whole reason we made this fucking arrangement in the first place.”

“Nobody is gonna see us,” you remind him. “I’m going to his apartment and we’re watching a movie, so if you’d please just relax.”

“No.” His head shakes as he straightens up, shoulders squaring as he lowers his eyes at you. “No, I forbid you to go.”

To this, your jaw drops, eyes widening as you lean back. “I’m sorry…what?”

“I forbid you to go. We don’t need to give people more reasons to doubt the marriage and honestly? You’re being reckless.”

“I’m being reckless? I wasn’t the one at The Box all fucking night,” you huff, mirroring his glare. “Doesn’t really say devoted and true, now does it?”

“I was there for a business meeting,” he argues, teeth beginning to grit as you scoff.

“Right.” You turn back to the mirror. “Business. Yeah, okay.”

He takes a step, muscles in his jaw constricting as he eyes your outfit. “The fuck are you wearing?”

“A dress, Sherlock.”

“Why? You’re watching a movie.”

“Yeah, and I wanna look nice.”

“Ew. Seriously?”

Your eyes roll as you lean closer to your reflection and swipe your pinky across your lips to perfect the makeup. “Gee, you always know just what to say.”

“You look like a whore,” he tells you plainly, and you’d be offended if you didn’t kind of agree. “And my wife should only be a whore for me.”

“Yeah, well. Things change.” You turn now, smirking to yourself when you notice the scowl on his face. “Besides, I’ve got a deal to win.”

This time, it’s his turn to roll his eyes and you can’t help but be a bit proud.

He’s right, after all. There’s a particular reason you wore this dress and it’s not for your date.

You’d been doing so well at avoiding the lingering glances at the dinner table. Resisting the temptation as he’d stroll about the house, fresh out of the shower, clad in only a towel as he dripped his way from room to room. Holding your composure even when he’d fuck his fist in the room next to you, groaning just loud enough for you to hear.

But, so far, neither of you have broken any rules. No moves have been made. No touches have been exchanged. No caving has been committed. 

And you have to win.

Mostly because you want, more than anything, to get out of all those events and appearances.

But also because…maybe you wanna reminisce that night.

At least one more time.

Which is why this friendly movie night with your old friend Lucas is the perfect opportunity for you to test his limits.

And maybe it’s wrong…

But maybe you don’t care.

You brush past him now, heading for the front door as you glance around for your purse.

You wait until he’s striding after you to bend over and pick up the bag, slowly and purposefully as you physically hear his breath hitch in his throat.

You don’t have to see his face to know he’s flushed as he stares openly at your ass, and you do your best not to chuckle as you straighten back up.

“Don’t wait up, okay?” you call sweetly, offering a small wave of your fingers in greeting as you reach for the handle.

The door swings open about halfway before a large palm finds the wood and slams it shut just before you can slip through. 

Startled (but secretly pleased), you turn, noticing the rage sitting comfortably behind his eyes.

Your hands find your hips. “The hell are you doi—”

He takes a step forward, forcing your back against the door as your question dies in your throat. You feel breathless, staring up at him expectantly as you feel the turn of the tide approaching. 

For a moment, all he does is look at you. Familiar, hauntingly green eyes flicking across your face before falling to your lips. 

He takes another step. Until his chest can just barely brush your own. Until you feel the way your stomach drops. The way you steel yourself for his touch. The way you realize how pathetically desperate you are.

But still, he makes no move to relieve you of your sinful desires. Perhaps he’s waiting for you to cave first, but your determination is much stronger than he gives you credit for. 

If he wants it…he’ll have to take it.

“What are you doing to me,” he murmurs, tone soft but intentional.

You attempt to appear relaxed, one shoulder bobbing up in response. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“What are you doing?” he whispers, almost pained, and your lips part. “Wearing this…just to hurt me. Walking around my house like you don’t think I’ll ruin you.”  

You exhale a shaky breath, lashes fluttering shut the closer he brings himself. Until all you know is him. His touch, his scent—you’ve never wanted anything more.

His hand finds the door, palm resting beside your head as he leans down, nose grazing yours as he hesitates. “Tell me you want me.”

“No.”

You won’t succumb to the desire. Won’t lose this game when you’re so close. Not when this was all his idea. Not when he’s…when you’re…

He gets closer, hips taut to yours as he practically begs you with his body language alone to give him what he wants. What you both want.

“Tell me,” he repeats as you pull your bottom lip between your teeth. “Tell me you want me to fuck you against this door. Tell me you want me to drag you down to the floor until you’re fucking screaming. Have you…on every fucking surface in this house…until you remember who I am.”

“Yeah? And who are you?”

A moment of silence. Labored breathing and tension thick enough to cut. 

“I’m the only one you fucking come for.”

And maybe you’d have a snippy retort if he wasn’t grabbing your hips and turning you around, pressing you tight to the door as he reaches for the hem of your dress.

And maybe that’s just fine with you.

His nimble fingers find the lacy fabric that you wore just for him in hopes that you’d find yourselves here and rips it down your shaking legs.

You hear the sound of his knees hitting the floor before you even realize what’s happening and next thing you do know is the feel of his nose brushing your inner thigh as he licks his way up your cunt.

You gasp—loudly—palms finding the door as you brace yourself. Your legs are forced apart to make room for the egregious man tugging you onto his face as you’re left to wonder why you kept yourself from him in the first place.

“Har—” Your voice is timid. Quiet. Too overcome with the pleasure of his tongue feeling you out. “What…what are you—”

“What’s it fucking look like, darling?” he sneers from below, grip tightening in remonstration. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

It is. It is, but you can’t let him know. “Wanted…to go on my date—”

“Bullshit.” A bitter laugh. “Think I know my darling wife better than that, hm?”

Your head shakes in disapproval. “You don’t know anything except your own desperation.”

“No?” He pulls back and you almost regret your response until you feel the rough pad of his finger circling inside before curling and forcing your knees to nearly give. “Funny. Cause the way you’re dripping down my knuckles right now suggests otherwise.”

You choke on a whine, forehead finding the door as you take a deep breath. 

“Face it, sweetheart,” he leers now, lips brushing your skin whenever he speaks, only adding to the sensation. “If you’re getting yourself wet for me, you’ve already lost.”

“Who…who said this was for you?” Your determination to resist proves strong as you manage to just hiss the response. “Maybe I’m excited about Lucas.”

“Lucas.” Another bitter hiss as he merely laughs at the name. “S’that his name? That’s who you’re using to try and hurt me? Oh, sweet girl. It’d almost be flattering if it weren’t so fucking pathetic.”

He groans now following the taste of you down his throat before he finds your hips once more and turns you back around.

Your head drops until your eyes find his, your heart racing as you notice the flush in his cheeks. The drip down his chin, glistening under the soft moonlight streaming through the window. The determined expression on his face.

“Don’t have to do that, you know,” he mumbles, dipping his head down to graze his lips over your hip, but keeping his stare on yours the entire time. “Don’t have to play with me like that.”

You can say nothing, so entranced with the beautiful man before you.

“Just say the word,” he whispers, fingers digging deep into your skin as he pulls you closer to his mouth. “Say the word and I’m yours.”

And maybe you know better. Maybe you know that this arrangement should stay what it started as. Purely business. An agreement meant to be taken seriously until it came to its inevitable end.

But maybe you don’t want it to.

“Please.” It comes out before you can stop it, your thighs squirming under his touch as you pant frantically. “Please, Harry.”

“Please what?”

Your nails scratch down the wall as you attempt to resist the urge to run them down his scalp, your eyes softening as you plead, “Please touch me.”

“I am touching you,” he says calmly, and you swallow a whine.

“Fuck me,” you correct, head rolling back against the door. “Please, Har. Fuck me. Ruin me. Make me yours. I just…I need—”

And that’s all he wants to hear, standing to his feet as he presses his lips to yours in a rushed and messy kiss, tongue in your mouth before you quite realize what just happened.

Because if there’s one thing you know about Harry…

He always makes good on his word.

Next Part:

~ Mr. & Mrs. Hey Soul Sister pt. 6*

Previous Part:

~ Mr. & Mrs. Hey Soul Sister pt. 4

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

#harry #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan #harry styles x reader #harry styles request #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut #harry styles x you #harry styles short story #mr & mrs. hey soul sister

[swaps55]

Always

Prompt in the Big Place discord server: write a scene using the words survivor, cluster, and friend.

Instead of a scene it turned into a 2k fic, whatchagonnado.

In which Kaidan and Kara Pendergrass have a very ace conversation.

~

It’s late morning before Kara stumbles out the screen door, blinking into the sunlight, to find Alenko swaying lazily back and forth in the porch swing. A smile touches his face as the voices of Shepard and Aslany carry up the hill from the barn, followed by the whinny of a horse.

Kara sits heavily on the swing beside him, disrupting his moment of quiet contemplation, but she makes up for it by handing him a coffee thermos. “I threw out Shepard’s shit and made this.”

“Thanks,” Alenko says, flashing her a grin. He smiles a lot more these days. They all do, really. Even Aslany.

Alenko takes a long, grateful sip from the thermos. No matter how much you love a guy like Shepard, you can’t love his coffee.

“Think the real survivors of the reapers were everyone who had to drink his bullshit,” she remarks, pushing her foot off the ground to start the swing again and tucking her leg underneath her.

“Yeah, maybe,” Alenko says with a chuckle. He always indulges her stupid jokes.

They sit in comfortable silence. The wind makes the trees wave. The orchard is a lot…friendlier in the summer. The leaves and the blooms and the sun and the warmth make it feel a lot different than that cold winter where reaper cannibals and husks crept in the woods.

Now there’s just deer.

“Surprised he got her in the barn,” Kara says, nodding down the hill. After that string of terrible nights sleeping on haybales and keeping a sniper’s perch in the loft, staring at the clusters of trees and waiting for nightmares to emerge, Aslany had sworn she’d never come here again. But here they are.

“You know Shepard,” Alenko says, lost in thought now. “He’s hard to say no to.”

“She trusts him.”

Alenko gives her the look he gives when he’s putting some pieces together she’s not gonna like. “She trusts you, too.”

Kara shakes her head and draws her feet up onto the swing, wrapping her arms around her legs and resting her chin on her knees. “But she doesn’t think she has to protect him. Me? She has to protect me.”

“We all protect each other. Always have.”

“Maybe. I don’t know. It’s just…different with her.” She scowls in frustration. She’s never been good at explaining things. “I can’t take care of her the way she takes care of me. It’s not just a squad thing.”

“Kara, we haven’t been ‘just squad’ in a very long time. Any of us.”

She snerks. “You mean since you started getting naked with one of the squad?”

A flush creeps up the back of his neck. It’s so easy to poke at him sometimes she can’t help herself. “You know what I mean.”

She does, sometimes. But other times…she doesn’t get it at all. She spends about as much time with Aslany as Alenko does with Shepard. If she didn’t have Aslany to spend all her time with and talk her ear off over bad Chinese food that Aslany loves for some reason, she probably wouldn’t spend her time with anyone.

And living alone sounds…well, she’d rather not think about living alone. Too many monsters in her head. Aslany’s, too, based on some of the nights they’ve spent sitting in front of the holoscreen at three in the morning, watching one of Shepard’s stupid B movies and not talking about what happens when they fall asleep.  

Friend doesn’t feel like the right word, which is why she’s always fallen back on squad. But they have no orders to follow anymore, and the only fighting they do these days are chicken fights in the lake. She’s never had a sister, and Aslany shuts down whenever the word ‘sister’ gets thrown around, so that one’s out.

They’ve never fucked. It’s never come up. But it didn’t come up for Shepard and Alenko for a long time before they finally did, and despite all the details Beaudoin shared on the ‘Yang, she doesn’t actually understand how these things work.

She blows a puff of air out the side of her mouth. “When did you know you wanted to fuck him?”

Alenko chokes on his coffee. She pats him patiently on the back until he stops.

“Um,” he manages.

She gives him an expectant look. He hems and haws for a while. Sometimes you just have to be patient while he works things out in his head.

“Why do you want to know?” he says finally.

“Well, at some point you changed from just being squad to sucking his dick, so—”

He holds up one hand to stop her and rubs the bridge of his nose with the other. “Can you just…can you call it…something else?”

“Sucking face?”

“Okay, fine. Sure. I’ll take what I can get.”

He stops talking. The swing creaks. She raises an expectant eyebrow. At first he pretends he doesn’t see it, but eventually he swears under his breath.

“My feelings, uh, changed a few months into the first tour.”

“Damn. You already wanted to fuck him just a few months—”

“No. I don’t work like that. I need…time before that happens. But—” He gestures helplessly. It shouldn’t be so funny to see Alenko so pitiable. He sighs in defeat. “Do you remember Mavigon?”   

“Mavigon.”

“Yeah.”

“The ice storm? That his dumb ass got us stuck in?”

Alenko’s face gets redder by the second. “Yeah. Uh. Well, you know, when it got cold that night and we all had to..."

She dissolves into laughter. “Wait, wait wait wait, no. You wanted to fuck him on Mavigon?”

Alenko’s face does all the stuff it does when he plays out an argument in his head, loses, and concedes without opening his mouth. “Yeah. Okay? Yes. I wanted to fuck him on Mavigon.”

“Still, like, a decade before you actually fucked him.”

“It wasn't a decade.”

Kara shakes her head in admiration and then sniggers. “You are the only person I know who can have both literal and figurative blue balls.”

“Wow, I am really feeling the love and support after offering up some very personal information I’ve never even told Shepard, so—”

“Wait, he doesn’t know how close he came to getting railed on Mavigon?”

“Kara.”

She holds up her hands in surrender. “He won’t hear it from me. On purpose.”

Alenko groans. She grins.

She kicks her feet to get the swing moving again. “Okay, so. What does that…feel like? Wanting to have sex with someone?”

He arches an eyebrow. “Are you wanting to have sex with someone?”

“No. I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking. How do you know?”

Now he actually looks thoughtful. “Well. It’s different from me than for a lot of people.”

“You mean Beaudoin?” She snickers into the back of her hand.

“Yeah,” Alenko says, though something sad flicks across his face. Guilt flashes through her. She always forgets that the others still think about his death before they think about his life. “For me I tend not to notice the physical stuff beyond aesthetics, at least not right away.”

“And then, what, one day Shepard’s ass is all you can think about?”

Now he actually cracks a smile. “No. Not quite like that. I just…couldn’t stop thinking about him. All of him. Not one particular piece. Wanted to be around him all the time, hear everything he had to say. When he wasn’t around I just had this…knot in my chest. At some point I started imagining what it would feel like to kiss him and then it, uh. Went from there.”

She scrunches her nose. Kissing Aslany is such an alien thought she can’t even picture it when she tries. Probably not a good sign. “Okay.”

“Why do you ask?”

Her turn to hem and haw a little. She considers lying, but lying never works with Alenko, so she just says it. “I don’t want Aslany to leave me.”

He sits up straighter. “What do you mean?” 

She shrugs a moody shoulder. “I don’t know. She’s my Shepard. But we’re not like you and Shepard. We don’t fuck. We don’t even hold hands, and yeah, I’d kinda like to hold hands sometimes but I don’t wanna get punched and I don’t think I wanna fuck, but I don’t know what it feels like to want to fuck someone, and she does like fucking people and I don’t want to lose her because we don’t.” She stops to catch her breath.

Alenko looks at her for a long time without speaking. She squirms.

“How long have you been worrying about this?”

She stares out at the trees. “Dunno. A while, I guess.”

“Kara. Hey.” He waits until she meets his gaze. “Just because it doesn’t look like what Shepard and I have doesn’t make it mean any less. To you or to her. Everyone’s different. Sex isn’t a requirement for a relationship. Or whatever you want it to be. You get to define it. Even if that means not defining it.”

She nods, and looks back down the hill as Shepard leads his horse out of the barn, Aslany walking a safe distance away. Shepard may be hard to say no to, but even Shepard isn’t going to get Aslany to not be afraid of a horse.

“She cares about you more than most people care about anything,” Alenko says quietly, like he’s seeing a few of his own monsters. “She’s not ever leaving you behind.”

They’ve all seen a lot of shit. Lot of it they’ve seen together.

Shepard leans lazily against the fence, watching the horse graze. He says something and Aslany laughs. Kara’s heart tightens. But…in a good way.

“Thanks, boss,” she says quietly. He puts an arm around her, and she snuggles up to his side. Maybe he’s right. Maybe they’re all more than squad. But squad was pretty good, too.

~

That afternoon they shake the chicken teams up, and it’s Aslany and Alenko against Kara and Shepard in the lake. Shepard complains about her bony ass on his shoulders the entire time, but it’s affectionate, and he does a lot of crowing when they finally manage to dethrone Aslany. After they’ve had enough, Shepard uses his biotics to throw Kara around in the water for a while. They finally climb out when the sun starts to get golden but there’s still warmth in the air. Aslany and Kara lay on their towels and stare up at the sky while Shepard pins Alenko to the ground and makes wisecracks between kisses, grin the size of a planet every time Alenko laughs.

Kara watches them idly, then looks over at Aslany, who ignores them completely. Instead the folds her arms behind her head, her dark hair splayed out behind her head in a wet clump. She closes her eyes and sighs in contentment, her usual standing scowl replaced by not quite a smile.

She might be the most gorgeous person Kara has ever seen, but. Nope. Doesn’t want to kiss her. Or anything else.

“Hey, Aslany. Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”    

Kara chews her lip. There’s a cloud in the sky that looks like a pyjack. “Are you ever gonna leave me?”

Aslany lolls her head to the side, the contentment replaced by the look she gives someone who asked a stupid question. “The day you tell me to go, I guess.”

“I’m never gonna say that.”

“Then I’m never leaving.”

Kara grins. “Good.”

Aslany nods in satisfaction before turning her attention back to the sky.

Alenko always makes things make sense. Aslany always makes things so simple.

“Ready to head back to the house?” Shepard asks.

Kara picks her head up. Alenko is still pinned beneath him and looks quite happy to be there. “Dunno, you done sucking face yet?” Alenko gives her the finger, but he’s grinning.

Shepard considers her question. “For now.”

“Then yeah, I guess.” She gets to her feet and offers Aslany a hand to pull her up. They gather their towels and the bag Alenko always brings, because part of him will always be a medic prepared to take care of them when they’re far from home. Shepard starts talking about the B-movie he’s going to inflict upon them when they get home as they walk, Kaidan’s hand gripped firmly in his.

Kara falls into step beside Aslany, like always. But not like always, Aslany reaches out and laces their fingers. It’s awkward, like she doesn’t really know how to do it. Neither of them do, really, and that’s why it’s perfect. Kara beams. Aslany squeezes her hand, with a tiny, tentative smile.

Maybe from some angles, it does look like Alenko and Shepard. From others, it doesn’t. But whatever it is, it’s theirs. And it’s good. And it’s always.

It’s the always part she likes the most.

#mass effect #mshenko #kaidan alenko #otp: after all this time #my fic #opus!verse #kara pendergrass #muriel aslany #i have a lot of feelings about the yang crew post war #very ace feelings XD

[stillsolo]

GET TO KNOW THE MUN. respond to the prompts out of character !

what made you pick up the current muse(s) you have? oh, where do i even begin?  well, i suppose i should start with how long sw has been in my life.  ANH was the first movie my mother ever saw when she visited the USA; she saw it with my grandmother ( and subsequently developed a massive crush on harrison, so indiana jones became a huge part of my childhood too lol ).  for this reason, my mother introduced my brother and I to sw when we were actual babies.  then, when the prequels came out, it’s all me and my brother consumed.  from the movies themselves to the original clone wars cartoon to the PS2 games to the novels/book series.  we watched it on a tiny portable player for every trip, and every time my relatives needed us to go away to let the adults talk lol.  it also helped our comprehension of english so much. i can’t recall a time in which sw hasn’t been present in my life! before i joined the tumblr swrpc, i kept to myself in the prequels community, wrote fanfic, and rped anakin on skype.  he’s always been a character that hit a little too close to home in one too many ways.  the main parallel i have with him (that doesn’t relate to his mental issues haha) is his love/devotion/attachment to his mother.  it’s difficult for me to explain without getting into the aspects of my culture (孝順 / filial piety), but in short, i am cantonese; if my mother asked me for my thumb tomorrow, i would give her my arm today.  anakin’s love for his mother, his determination to free her from slavery at an early age, was very touching.  EPII has been memed to oblivion, yes, but the pain i feel when anakin doesn’t get to hear his mother tell him she loves him one last time before she dies, and knowing that it haunts him for the rest of his life (eu), makes me want to throw myself out a window lmao  i have an extremely close relationship with my parents; this sort of pain is absolutely gutting for someone like me. anyway, when i joined the tumblr swrpc, writing han solo was never the plan.  i originally wanted to write luke but ended up changing my mind at the last second.  I’d written well over a dozen fics with han at that point, but was nowhere near confident, so i thought of it as more of an experiment. guess that doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, because if you really think about it, since the day i started writing him in fics, he hasn’t stopped butting into my brain.  in fact, he’s been harassing me ever since—to the point that i even switched from writing luke to him… lol given my upbringing and my mother’s love for him, han has always been my childhood hero, as well as my brother’s.  our dad was our han solo.  the nostalgic and familial associations run so deep, it’s difficult to articulate.  we share many traits, right down to his universally agreed-upon zodiac sign (sagittarius); i know han solo like the back of my hand—and it’s probably because i wanted to be just like him when i grew up.

is there anything you don’t like to write? character death.  if i have to say another, it’s when people conflate harrison with the character he plays and then decides to address that in a thread.  harrison was a ladies man back in the 80s, and that’s fine, but that doesn’t mean the same for han.  i hate seeing the conflation between the two.  not sure if this happens as often anymore, but there was a time when fics/threads/even han rpers would lean into it, by default, thus totally destroying his character in my eyes.  i mean, write it as a storyline, that’s cool and fine, but infidelity has never been inherently part of his character.  i will die on this fucking hill.

is there anything you really enjoy writing? most unpopular opinion ever: action sequences.  critical situations, fast paced action, thriller scenes featuring immediate, life-threatening circumstances.  i love writing that which exhibits a sense of urgency and tension, with sprinklings of emotional depth and contemplative introspective moments.  scenes with internal conflict combined with aforementioned external events.  even evading enemy forces, sustaining minor/major injuries, dressing wounds.  dunno why those are always the most fun to me.  aside from that?  romance/romantic angst.  i’ve had many writing partners over the years, and each one thought they could outdo me in writing romantic angst.  sometimes, the psychosomatic pain of heartbreak isn’t far from feeling like you’ve lost a limb in battle.

how do you come up with headcanons? by being the most annoying, meticulous person ever.  i’m extremely detail oriented; when i see incongruities in my own work, i perish.  so, when i come up with headcanons, i have to consider all factors that may affect the outcome of whatever question i’ve posed in my mind and feel the need to justify my choices, for whatever reason, by tying it back to XYZ.  my headcanons must align with my muse’s personality, their environment from childhood to adulthood, their current circumstances, and if it’s an AU, how it mirrors canon events.  canon/eu is everything imo, because they are their own choices; it’s what shaped them into the character we know them as.  ofc, this is my process and opinion, so make of that what you will.

do you write in silence or do you play music? no music, no tv.  sometimes people talking is too much for me.  i have adhd and my medication only helps so much.  i will absolutely start writing down the conversation or lyrics playing in the background lol

do you plan your replies or wing them? plotting vs planning replies is different to me.  plotting gives me a foundation, but it can’t be too confining.  to plan a reply is to block out each moment.  if you trap me, i will always deviate; so i wing everything, even when i have a foundation.

do you enjoy shipping? yes, absolutely!  i’m not sure why people tend to assume otherwise, but i’m more open to it than people think.  i’ve never cared about who you write, if they’re in the sw franchise, or even what era of sw etc etc  never given a shit about what people think; if our muses click, they click.  honestly, some of the best ships i’ve had with han, as in the most enjoyable and enlightening of his character, have been ‘crack ships’.

what’s your alias/name? vin, vince, vincent.  vincent van hoe.  trash bin vin.

age? 27!

birthday? dec 2!

favorite color? silver.  if that’s not a color to you, then blue.

favorite song? you can’t expect me to… well, ‘in your eyes’ by the weeknd has been up there for a long time.

last movie you watched? star wars: the clone wars (2008)

last show you watched? … the clone wars lol

last song you listened to? billie jean - MJ.

favorite food? my mother’s 番茄炒蛋 ( egg and tomato stir fry ), unagi, freshly baked breads, fresh fruit …

favorite season? i get mostly tropical weather, but i love a cold winter.

do you have a tumblr best friend? unfortunately, so many people have left the site over the years, but i'm grateful to call these people some of the closest friends i have in the rpc: @techniiciian @desiccation @vibraea @rcvanchist @sgterso @voxcrystallis

tagged : @debelltio thank you for thinking of me!! tagging : if you're still reading this, i tag you!

#( . i hope i didn't bore anyone to death haha i already cut out so much skdfjksdf #( . im a bit of a Yapper y'see‚ and i can ramble about sw stuff like nobody's business #( . anyway just know that i always come back to han‚ no matter what. he's so annoying lmao #˒・*。◞ ( dash game ) *･ﾟ✧ ⎸ ғᴏʀᴛᴜɴᴇ ғᴀᴠᴏʀs ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏʟᴅ‚ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ’ᴍ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢ ʟᴜᴄᴋʏ. #˒・*。◞ ( ooc ) *･ﾟ✧ ⎸ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏғ ᴄᴀʀʙᴏɴɪᴛᴇ. #long post ts