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#like I have two fics incomplete
wheelercurse · 1 year
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I want to write many many many things but I don’t know where to start, so I end up doing nothing 😭😭
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demadogs · 1 year
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you ever open your usual ao3 ship with the most recent fics and see a familiar title and youre like “damn theyre STILL GOING????”
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mushroomsie224 · 12 hours
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Suddenly remembered a headcanon of mine from a while back about how Cedric rarely, if ever, drinks around people because of how embarrassing he gets. He's already treated as a joke, imagine if he made a fool of himself when drunk...but he probably drinks alone in his tower sometimes. Never in the workshop, of course...he made that mistake once and that's the last time he's making it. I think he'd be the type to drink away his emotions.
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whatapictureisworth · 11 months
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euphoriaslux · 6 days
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two’s a party.
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summary: you recently transferred to stanford, and decide to tutor a tennis player in your class. he has a friend. severe indecency ensues.
word count: 3.3k
warnings : smut, threesomes, f!oral receiving, swearing, smoking, drinking. slight cuck energy if you squint (i’m sorry ((no i’m not))). no challengers spoilers!
a/n: this fic got away from me big time but this movie has rotted my brain and as a result i have written utter debauchery that i will not apologize for. just had to get this out of my head, enjoy!
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stanford science hall. monday , march 3.
You swear the last thing you’ll hear before your body is lowered into your grave is the process of lactic acid breakdown.
It’s 2:30 PM. Kinesiology 189 with Professor Wilson, a lanky middle-aged man with a PhD in exercise science and a half-grown beard that you don’t think will ever fully grow in, is almost over. He’s teaching Extended Studies of the Human Body in a humid classroom filled with student-athletes, most of whom are trying to stay awake, trying to hide that they’re taking a nap, or making no attempt to hide that they’re on their phones. You don’t really blame any of them, because the professor’s voice is so soft and monotone that it feels like he’s begging everyone to pay attention to anything but him. You’ve managed to stay somewhat on course with the thread of today’s lecture, the notebook in front of you filled with scribbles of incomplete molecular structures and somewhat legible drawings of the muscular anatomy of a hamstring.
This class is required for your biology major since you’re on a pre-medicine track. You don’t know why you’re doing it, the whole doctor thing, but you’ve developed a weird fixation for this class. The functionality of the body, how muscles stretch and tear with each movement, and how amino acids work to build them back even bigger.
And, possibly because of the tennis player who sits four rows ahead of you every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.
His last name is Donaldson. You know because of the faded label on the massive bag he throws on the floor every time he walks into class, at least ten minutes late with a backward Stanford Tennis cap on his head. His first name remains a mystery, partly because he never talks in class, and mainly because you’ve made no attempt to speak to him. You like to think it’s because you’re so focused on the curriculum.
Professor Wilson knows your name, though, since you’re in his office hours every Thursday at 11 A.M. In part because he gives out most of the answers to his homework, and because you just transferred to Stanford your last year and very desperately need a letter of recommendation for medical school. Hence why you agreed to tutor a student with lower than 60% in the class during one of your meetings. And why everyone in the class was staring at you right now.
“... first come first serve, so reach out to her sooner rather than later.”
You give a tight-lipped smile, glancing around the room. Most people have looked away, back to their distraction of choice, but you meet eyes with the fluffy blonde-haired tennis player.
stanford library. wednesday, march fifth.
It’s 11 A.M., and you feel like your brain is about to explode if you look at another practice set.
“Hey”.
Your head whips around to the harsh whisper, only to be met with the blue-eyed mystery from your class. He has that large bag slung over his shoulder, with the end of a tennis racket peeking out of it. His hair is slightly stuck to his face, and his compression tee is slick to his chest like a second skin.
“Hi,” you whisper back. He smiles before tossing his bag on the floor and sitting in the chair across from you, either unaware of or completely ignoring the glares he’s receiving from the other students studying.
“You know,” he pulls out some kind of nutrition bar from his bag, unwrapping it and taking an aggressive bite, “for someone advertising their services, you’re pretty hard to find.”
“You’re in Mr. Wilson’s class, right?” you ask, hoping your subdued voice will remind him that he’s in a notoriously quiet place. He hums, pointing at you with his half-eaten snack.
“And I’m trying not to fail, but you didn’t leave your number anywhere in the classroom, and you bolt after every class. So how am I supposed to patronize your tutoring services…” he trails off, his volume the same level as when he walked in. You furrow your brows as he leans back into the chair.
“That’s when you say who you are.”
You feel a burn on the back of your neck as you tell him your name. He glances down towards the problem set you’ve nearly finished.
“How do you turn in any of those, I can’t get halfway through one of them.”
You pause for a moment before leaning slightly across the table to whisper:
“This new weird thing called studying. I think it just got approved by the CDC.”
“Very funny,” he shakes his head as reaches for your binder with your class schedule printed out on the front of it.
“Why are you taking so many bio classes?”
“Because I’m a biology major,” you can’t help the sarcasm dripping from your voice, and he looks at you with a raised eyebrow.
“Sorry, you’re making this too easy for me,” you raise your hands in conceit.
“I have practice every day at five so you can tutor me for like an hour beforehand,” he says before standing up, crunching up the silver wrapper and stuffing it into the front pocket of his blue jeans. You scoff at his sentence.
“Well, thank you for so generously fitting me into your schedule,” you roll your eyes, turning the page in your textbook. He grins.
“Tell the coach you’re there for Art. They’ll let you through.”
stanford tennis courts. friday, march 7th.
It’s 4 PM, and the California sun is sweltering. Your shorts feel like they’ve become a part of your legs, and your bag feels like it weighs a thousand pounds. By the time you make it to the tennis courts Art is already on the green concrete, shirtless with beads of sweat dripping down his face and chest. You hear his grunts as he sprints across the court, hitting the ball toward a slightly taller brunette with dangerously short red shorts. You watch them at the entrance for a few minutes, slightly entranced as the two play so seamlessly, as if they know every move the other person is going to make. You force your eyes away as you walk up the bleachers, stepping over leftover water bottles and chip bags to sit down and grab your notes from your backpack. It takes a couple more minutes for Art to notice you, yelling your name after he turns around to grab a ball his partner had hit particularly hard. You wave, and he says something you can’t hear to the brunette before the two of them jog across the courts and up the stands to where you are, blocking the sun as the two stand side by side.
“Who’s your friend?” you ask as you stuff the problem set you were working on in between the pages of your notebook.
“I’m Patrick,” he says, with a toothy smile and his ears poking out from under his hair. He has a bit more of a boyish charm to him than Art does, whose eyes are glued to his brunette counterpart.
“Are you in Mr. Wilson’s class too?”
Patrick opens his mouth to answer but Art speaks first, slightly pushing his friend with his shoulder as he says “He doesn’t go to Stanford, too busy being a tennis pro.”
Patrick rolls his eyes but his smile doesn’t leave his face. You notice how different this Art feels from the one in the library, how direct his playfulness is and how close he and Patrick stand together, their sweaty torsos nearly melding together.
Interesting.
“Like, Andre Agassi level pro?” you smile as the two of them laugh. Patrick raises the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat off of his forehead, and you can’t help but take a glance at the exposed skin just above his waistband.
“Sorry, he’s like the only tennis player I know.”
“No, no I’m taking that as a compliment that you think I’m on the level of Agassi. No takebacks if you see me play,” Patrick points at you.
“Will do,” you salute, turning over to Art.
“You ready to study?” you ask him as he makes a comically loud groan, his head falling back. Patrick laughs, reaching over to ruffle his friends hair.
“You do remember that’s why I’m here, right? Midterms are in two weeks.”
“I definitely have not forgotten that.” he says. You purse your lips just as Patrick’s eyes seem to light up.
“I’m staying at the Courtyard Hotel for the weekend. You two can come over and study, I need to review my last match anyway. Kill two birds with one stone,” Patrick suggests.
“Just studying?”
“Just studying,” Art says, wrapping his arm around his friend's shoulder. You glance between the two of them, trying to decipher the unspoken communication they seem to be doing. But you can’t crack it, so you shrug.
“Sure.”
“Let us finish this set, and then you’ll have me all to yourself. Sound fair?”
“Wow, what a privilege. Don’t take too long, it’s hell on Earth out here!” you yell the last part as Art jogs down the steps and back down towards the net. You look up once you realize that the sun is still being blocked, and Patrick is still standing in front of you.
“You ever play?” he grins, flipping the tennis racket in his hand.
“Tennis? God, no, that would not be a pretty sight. I’ll stick to what I’m good at,” you gesture to the books and notes in your lap. Patrick nods.
“If you ever want to learn, I could teach you sometime, you know if-” he’s cut off by Art yelling his name, and you both glance to see him with his hands on his hips.
“Go, don’t keep your boyfriend waiting,” you wave him off, and you swear you can see him blushing. Must have been the glare.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says over his shoulder as he runs toward Art.
courtyard hotel. saturday, march 8.
It’s 11 pm. There’s a cold shiver in the elevator as you wait to get to the fourth floor, your tennis shoes tapping against the floor as one hand plays with the handle of the pack of beer in your hand while the other crumples and re-crumples the piece of paper with the hotel room number Patrick scribbled on it.
what are you doing?
You don’t have time to think about the consequences of your actions as the robotic voice signals that you’re on the fourth floor, the elevator doors fluttering open. It’s like your feet have a mind of their own, as you find yourself almost mindlessly wandering through the hotel halls until you’re planted in front of room 4B. You raise your hand to knock on the door but before you can make contact with the wood it’s thrust open, and Patrick is standing behind it. His dark hair is slightly tousled around his face, his striped shirt unbuttoned and his black boxer briefs low on his waist. He’s smiling, that same big smile as before, but his face is a little flushed, a gentle pink hue touching his cheeks. The two of you don’t say anything for a few seconds, as if you were both testing to see who would concede first to acknowledge the other’s presence. You raise the pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon in your right hand.
“I brought studying fuel.”
You were never good at waiting.
Patrick laughs before he moves slightly out of the way to allow you to walk into his room. It’s small, with a queen-sized bed and a tiny desk, and the A/C emits an odd rumbling sound as it smacks against the window. Clothes and scorecards are strewn across the floor, and the scent of cigarettes permeates the room. You place the alcohol on the floor before deciding to sit on the bed, kicking off your shoes as you cross your legs. Patrick seems to stall for a moment, smiling to himself before closing the door behind him. He doesn’t lock the door, but you didn’t notice.
“Art’s not here yet?” you ask, watching as Patrick walks over and tears open the cardboard case, cracking open a can. Taking a sip, he leans against the desk as he smiles.
“Art can be bad with time.”
“As I’ve noticed,” you reach your hand out to motion towards the drink and Patrick hands it to you, staring as you take a large sip.
“Well,” you wipe the side of your mouth, “I told him to bring the topics he wanted to study, so I guess we can’t do anything until he gets here.”
Patrick nods with a slight pout, his fingers playing with the pop tab of the can. “I guess we can’t.”
“How’s tennis… stuff,” you laugh as you finish the question, not sure of exactly what to say.
Patrick seems to tense a little at the mention of the sport, moving over to sit next to you on the bed. His knee grazes your leg and you feel a slight buzz at the contact as he takes the beer from your hand.
“I’m kinda fucking it up right now,” he says, and you furrow your brows.
“How? You were like, really good yesterday.”
He chuckles, shaking his head slightly. He hands you the beer and you finish it off, placing the empty can at the bottom of your feet.
“I’m good with Art. It feels so fucking natural and easy with him. But in my other matches, I don’t know. I just … can’t replicate it.”
You nudge him with your leg.
“Sounds like you two were made to play tennis together.”
He makes a noise of agreement, his hands slowly moving to ghost over your thigh.
“You and Art are pretty close?” you ask as he plays with the bottom hem of your shorts, but he doesn’t say anything. You take his silence as a yes.
“Do you ever get jealous?”
“Of Art?” he asks, almost incredulously. You shrug.
“Yeah, or jealous of the girls he’s with. Either or.”
Patrick sits on that for a few moments before smirking.
“What’s mine is mine, and what’s his is mine.”
You laugh at that, a real deep laugh, and Patrick giggles next to you, the both of you tipsy from the can of beer you finished. You reach over and put your hand on his flushed face, rubbing your hand across his cheek.
“What were you doing before I came?” you feel his face warm even more against your skin as you position yourself closer to him.
“Practicing- or, sorry, rereading my scorecards from my last match.”
You tutted as you moved your hand to the back of his neck, gently running your hands through his hair.
“You can tell me the truth, Patrick.”
He turns his head to press a gentle kiss to the palm of your hand before looking up at you as if to check if that was too much. Whatever your expression is gives him the confidence to move down to your neck, his tongue licking your skin.
“I think you know.”
You feel a pull in your lower stomach at his words, muffled by his mouth nipping at the sensitive spot just below your ear, and he sucks hard enough for you to put your hand around on his face at the pressure. Pulling his face up, the two of you stare at each other for what feels like an eternity, and his eyes glance toward your lips. You wanted to wait, to make him beg and plead for it, but your body seemingly pulled you forward as your pressed your mouth onto his.
You were really quite bad at waiting.
He tastes like tobacco and faintly of the fruit medley in the dining hall, and you sigh as his lips interlock with yours and his hand grabs the back of your neck, pressing you into him. The kiss gets messy and hard, his tongue gliding over your bottom lip and into your mouth as you lift your leg to straddle Patrick, grinding into him. He whimpers into the kiss as his calloused hands drop down to the waistband of your shorts, hesitating for a moment before dropping his hand into your underwear. You grind just a little bit faster as his fingers press circles into your clit, covering your mouth with your hand as you moan.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs as he uses his other hand to guide your hips, and your move your hands down to tug firmly on his hair. You can feel your climax building, the pressure in your stomach getting closer and closer to taking you over the edge-
You both jump at the sound of the hotel room dor slamming shut. Art is standing there, in that damn backward cap and a Stanford tee shirt as he crosses his arms over his chest, saying nothing as you and Patrick sit up straight, him adjusting his crotch and you smooth down your shirt, avoiding his gaze. Finally, the silence is broken by Art laughing.
“Christ, I’m not the cops,” he slips out of his slides as he waltzes over and opens a can of beer, drinking about half of it in one go. You look at him, and at Patrick, and then back at him, not knowing what the hell you just got yourself into.
“You want to fuck him right?” Art asks, and you can’t help your small gasp at how easily he said that. You glance at Patrick, hoping he’ll know what to say, but he’s just staring at Art.
“I-um,”
“So, no one’s stopping you,” Art cuts you off, taking a final swig of his beer and moving to stand directly in front of you. You open your mouth to try and explain, but before you can talk Patrick’s mouth is on yours again, his hand roaming your body. His grip is firmer now, his fingertips digging into the side of your stomach. He tugs at the bottom of your shirt and you separate, breathless as you pull your shirt over your head and toss it on the floor. Patrick’s mouth moves down to your neck, then your collarbones, and then your chest as he reaches around to take of your bra, and you feel on fire from Art’s gaze across the room. As Patrick kisses down your stomach and yanks down your shorts, you turn over to meet Art’s eyes.
“Come here.”
Whatever resolve Art was holding onto crumbles as he quickly takes off his shirt and slips out of his Nike shorts, tossing his hat on the dresser. In a flash Art’s hands are on your neck, tilting your head around to kiss you as Patrick lifts up your hips so he can take off your underwear. Art’s lips are softer than Patrick’s but he kisses you a little bit harder, his hand cupping the base of your neck. Somehow, they both taste the same. You moan into Art’s mouth as you feel Patrick’s tongue swirl around your clit, rolling your hips into his mouth as Art’s cock presses into your back. It’s just so much so fast, and that familiar buzz starts to pool in your lower stomach.
“Look at him,” Art turns your head to Patrick and you look into his eyes as you cum, Art’s hands hold your head forward as a wave of euphoria crashes over you. Patrick’s hands are digging into your hips as he stares up at you and Art. Your chest heaves up and down as you try to catch your breath, leaning against Art as Patrick leans back up, his mouth a few inches from yours.
“Who do you want first?
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euphoricfilter · 1 year
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Stardust || JJK
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Pairing: Jungkook x F. Reader
Genre: Fluff || Smut || Friends to Lovers au
Summary: If Jungkook would have known an unintentional orgasm would have led to this, then he would have begged you to work out with him sooner.
Word Count: 5.5k
Tags/ warnings: himbo-ish jk, so much fluff idk where it came from, smut in the forms of: unintentional masturbation turned coregasm, oral (f. receiving), fingering, protected sex (because that’s really cool), mirror sex, doggy style, technically multiple orgasms, they’re both giggly and in love it’s kinda gross, jk is a tits man, he’s obsessed with boobs, it’s all very tame and kinda soft ig
Notes: yay first fic of 2023. this was way harder to write than i’d anticipated, hopefully i pulled through. and if there’s mistakes, no there aren’t!
<3 thank you to my prettiest baby @4amj3zz for reading this atrocity before i posted it
my full masterlist
✯ ✯ ✯
If every living being’s foundation is made of stardust, scattered when born, then Jungkook thinks the two of you were made from the same star.
A friendship that’s near impossible to come by, crafted by the hands of a higher being— delicate fingertips moulding fickle personalities and emotions that seem incomplete when not together. Two angels sent to earth to be each others’ number one in another life they’ll spend together.
Precious, like naturally formed diamonds.
And maybe that’s what your friendship was, one of the world’s little treasures. One everyone yearns for, though only a select few have.
Sure, diamonds can be replicated, graphite turned jewelry, simply there for show. A statement piece if you must.
Fake diamonds and fake friendships that seem to be more common than the real deal. Hard to crack, though not impossible— splitting the two of you up into pitiful shards and lost pieces; where even the most skilled hands have trouble putting it back together.
Jungkook doesn’t remember life before you. Though he thinks it must have been dull, flimsy smiles, and friends that hadn’t bothered to call once they moved away.
His existence so easily forgotten, that the gnawing sadness didn’t seem to last as long as he’d anticipated. Simply walking the path of life alone, though he often thought solitude wasn’t all that bad.
Until your worlds had collided. The big bang of your friendship, a new world, a new start, everything so fresh and untampered with.
He’d thought about what life would be like if one day the two of you were to ever part ways, the very thought of you not being by his side like a harsh punch the gut.
And maybe he had gotten a little teary eyed on those evenings he felt a little softer, a little sadder at the thought of you ever leaving. His hands fumbling around his sheets for his phone, your voice his only remedy for his growing anxiety, where promises were whispered and sleepy smiles remained on your faces as you rested.
Jungkook doubts that day will ever come. And maybe that’s all just wishful thinking, a juvenile dream that the promise you’d made to one another would hold strong for the rest of time, until the two of you lay six feet under. Resting side by side until your bodies rot, flesh becoming one with the earth, what is left of your existence blossoming into something beautiful; perhaps a tree, a flower, truly anything, as long as you were together.
“Together?” you blink up at Jungkook through your lashes, eyebrows creasing in distaste.
Jungkook thinks you look pretty in that moment, even if you are pulling a face at him. The two of you sat at a bench in the park, your head haloed by the setting sun, last of the days warmth kissing both your skin in a gentle goodbye before the moon watches over the two of you.
Littles galaxies reflected in both your eyes, where Jungkook thinks each star in his represents one thing he loves about you; hidden behind the moonlight because he doubt yours represent the same.
“Yes” he nods, hair flopping a little over his forehead, and you push the stray strands out of his eyes. Fingers delicate as they brush over his skin, always so gentle with him that his heart flutters like the delicate wings of a butterfly.
“Kook, I love you— you know I do” and he nods, lips quirking up a little, “But working out just, isn’t for me” you conclude, tone firm and his shoulders deflate. Because he knows it’ll take more than glossy puppy eyes and a pout for you to give in.
“First off, I love you too—“
“Thank you” you nod. But Jungkook doesn’t think you understand the weight behind those words.
“And look, how do you know it’s not for you, if you’ve never tried?”
“You put me off” and Jungkook would have thought you were joking if you didn’t have that deadpan look on your face. One he was all too familiar with.
“Huh” he gawks, “How?”
“You always complain about sore muscles, and the thought of being sweaty grosses me out” your head tips forward dramatically, cushioned by your arms from the table.
“It’s a good ache” he watches you turn your head, lips moulded into an unconvinced pout as you stare up at him through your lashes.
“There is no such thing as a good ache, Jungkook”
“Is too”
“When?” you flail, unbothered as Jungkook’s hands wrap around your wrists.
“Sex ache”
You pause, “Excuse me?”
“You know?” he cocks his head to the side.
“No” you shake your head in utter disbelief.
Jungkook’s mouth falls open, “You’re a little pillow princess aren’t you, I bet you don’t do any of the work”
“Do too, besides—“ you swallow, “It’s none of your business” you pull your hands free of his grasp.
“Come on, I feel like we’re at a point in this relationship we can share these things” his cheek rests atop of your head, each syllable pulled out into a whine.
“I don’t wanna hear about your sex life, Jungkook” you huff.
You watch him sit up ramrod straight, brain whirring behind his eyes. You think that if he thought any harder you’d be able to hear the echo of his voice.
“Actually, I don’t really wanna hear about yours either” his nose scrunches up, melting your resolve.
A secret charm of his that he didn’t know he had; and you’d never tell him either, no way in hell would you let him weaponize your weakness against you when your heart could barely stand being sat so close to him.
“Best friends don’t always share everything” you quip, only it leaves a tangy taste on your tongue.
“I suppose” Jungkook nods, evidently less enthusiasm radiating off him.
Best friends. It always wet your mood. Like sour candy that’s too sour, or a cute dog that’s breath smells like a rotting carcass.
But that’s what you were, introductions to new classmates or new lovers; it was always best friends. Two simple words that felt like utter shit to say, tumbling past your lips like vomit and then you had to rawdog the aftertaste because you don’t have any toothpaste or mints nearby.
Never anything less, even though there was definitely a lot more going on between the two of you. (Not that either of you had any idea about that.)
It’s a wonder as to how neither of you had grasped the fact that every previous relationship the two of you had, had ended because of the other. Nothing ever seeming to fit in place, the click never being there when it came to someone else.
Communication is key in upholding a relationship of any kind, issues easily resolved with hours of conversation turned mutual understanding, and progression made with a mix of both actions and words. As two people whose love languages were physical touch, the former is just as important as the latter.
One of the only reasons your friendship has lasted this long, is that you both value each other enough to communicate when necessary.
Apart from when you could probably really use it, unidentifiable emotions weaving into your hearts, mixed with a dose of denial can really set you back when you’re near infatuated with your closest friend.
It’s not that either of you had never considered a relationship with one another, others outside your little bubble had brought it up enough times that the meager possibility of it actually happening had been cemented into your thick skulls.
Something nice tickling both your brains at the fact so many people thought you were together together; like, in love together.
Long gone were the days where you’d blurt out your denial to dating accusations with rose dusted cheeks, simply believing the world had a thing against opposite sex friendships. Now, the two of you just laughed off whoever liked to comment on how good you looked as a couple. (Which had brought more than a few of Jungkook’s relationships to turmoil)
It’s just that neither of you believed the other wanted anything more than friendship. A rookie mistake on both your parts, especially when you’d both establish that every and all emotions were to be discussed with one another, no matter what you felt.
“One time” you break the silence, any way to ease the growing tension between the two of you “I’ll work out with you one time. And never again”
You watch the smile as it pulls at the corner of his lips, the prettiest smile, your favorite smile, enough of a reward for whatever pain you’re about to put yourself through. Because as long as Jungkook was happy, then you’d crawl to the ends of the earth if it meant you got to see this smile one more time.
“I love you” he bends down, sloppy kiss pressed to your cheek and you can’t help your own smile, heated cheeks covered as you swat him away from your face. Wiping his saliva from your skin with the back of your hand.
“Whatever” you tut, though Jungkook sees through your faux annoyance.
“We can use my at-home gym as well, so we won’t even be in public”
“Wonderful. Let’s go back now, I’m gonna freeze my tits off if we stay any later”
You don’t catch Jungkook’s gaze flickering down to your chest, lingering a little longer than proper before he’s slinging his zip-up hoodie around your shoulders. Eyes flickering down to his hands briefly before he’s knocking shoulders with you.
“Chivalry isn’t dead” you utter, falling into Jungkook’s side when his arm falls over your shoulder.
✯ ✯ ✯
Jeon Jungkook was sex on legs when he worked out.
You were no stranger to him training, countless vacations together, where the morning was spent with him doing press-up on the balcony or the occasional few times he’d bench-press you for a laugh.
You’d never found it funny though, pussy throbbing between your thighs as he’d grab onto you, arms flexing deliciously. And he never seemed to question why you’d lock yourself up in your room after, purely a coincidence that you’d disappear for an hour after his little stunt.
You were no stranger to a half naked Jungkook either.
Nor were you a juvenile teenager whose panties got in a twist when she saw a toned stomach.
However, this wasn’t just any toned stomach.
Jeon Jungkook was built like Adonis. Carved where every crevice had meaning and every flaw only enhanced his beauty. And it’s hard to think the bushy haired, acne prone teen boy you’d first befriended had turned into this.
If puberty had benefited anyone, it was Jungkook.
“We’ll do something easy today, okay?” he claps and you nod, watching as he saunters over to a basket.
“Pink or blue” he holds up two yoga mats.
“I didn’t think you were into rhinestones” you snort, sun catching on the bedazzled rim of the pink mat— streaks of pink painting the wall.
Jungkook drops said mat, chucking you the blue one before he’s dropping to his knees on the floor.
“It’s one of my exes” he tells you, motioning for you to sit.
If people were flowers, then this is the moment you would have wilted. Deflating in on yourself; it’s not that you were jealous per-say. It’s not like him and his ex were dating at all but still. The very mention of her was enough for you to roll your eyes.
“And you didn’t throw it out?” the words hurdle out your mouth before you can even think about what you’re saying.
“No?” his eyes meet your own, “I’m not throwing away good gym equipment”
You sigh, somehow expecting no less from him. Jungkook was a man of many skills, and he’d hounded you to try hobby after hobby with him— but nothing got him going like a good work out. If all other passion in life disappeared then he would still have working out as his escape.
You sigh, “I have somewhere to be later, so let’s hurry this up” a little white lie, but that never hurt anyone.
“You’re not going on another one of those shitty blind dates, are you?” he groans and you whine.
“I told you, I’m never going on any of those ever again”
“You better not” he unrolls his mat, and you follow.
“Or what?” you turn your nose up at him and Jungkook’s foot collides with your thigh.
“On your back, you brat.”
✯ ✯ ✯
“How much more” you flop against the mat, eyes closing.
“That was only the warm up” Jungkook hums, pushing himself up off the floor.
You hear him walk to the other side of the room, cupboard door creaking open as he rummages around for something.
You peek up at him through your lashes when he throws a towel over your back.
“Roll that up” he motions towards it, coming to sit beside you, “And up onto your back again”
Your eyes widen by a fraction when he gently takes the towel out of your hands, pushing your knees apart before he’s closing them; towel stuffed between your thighs.
Your gaze travels down the length of your body, thighs twitching as Jungkook’s fingers wrap around your ankles.
“All you have to do is raise your legs like this okay?” and he demonstrates, making sure to keep your legs straight as he lifts them to a ninety degree angle from your torso. “Leg raises should be easy, even for you” he hums.
“What’s that supposed to mean” you snap, ready to push yourself up, except Jungkook’s hands press down over your chest.
“Hey! No complaining”
You swallow thickly, aware of Jungkook’s eyes on you as you raise your legs on your own this time.
“Pretty good, remember to tense your core when you do it, okay?”
You nod, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you do as you’re told.
Your eyes squeeze shut, body hyper aware of each small movement the towel has right over your clit. Pussy throbbing inside your panties and you worry your slick had started to soak through your shorts.
Jungkook doesn’t seem to take notice of your growing predicament, hands hovering over your calf to make sure you’re raising your legs all the way. Though that’s the least of your worries as you feel each new wave of unadulterated pleasure pulse through your core.
“Not so bad huh?” he grins.
It’s a strange sensation, pure arousal ebbing up your body, every brush of your panties over your clit, weight of the towel over your slit slowly bringing you to the precipice of an orgasm.
“I don’t think—“ you start, cutting yourself off with an arm covering your face at a particularly intense wave of arousal. Your stomach tightening at the feeling.
“Just a few more, you’re doing great”
“Kook, I really don’t think—“ your hand clamps over your mouth as Jungkook’s fingers take hold of your legs, helping you raise them; and that’s all it takes to tip you over the edge. And you can’t help the surprised moan that drips off your lips.
Your knees bend, nudging against your tits as your hand falls over your sodden pussy, dull wave of your orgasm throbbing throughout your body.
Jungkook looks down at you, eyes wide as you simply lay there with your hands between your legs.
“Did you just piss yourself?” he asks, mouth falling open in awe.
“What the fuck?” you cry, “I just came you idiot”
Jungkook’s cheeks flush red, “Oh” he nods, “Oh. You had a— holy shit”
“Don’t look at me like that” your eyes glaze over with tears, heat prickling up your body in embarrassment, “I didn’t mean to, it just happened”
Your feet fall to the floor, towel falling from between your thighs as you let out a stuttered breath, body still buzzing with the after affects or your surprise orgasm.
“Jungkook?” you peek up at him through hooded eyes, heart pattering so hard in your chest you could feel it in your throat.
Jungkook’s eyes meet your own, “That was so fucking hot” he groans, “Looked so pretty”
You watch as his hand rubs over his shorts, his own arousal hard to hide as his head tips back in a way that extenuates his neck.
“Huh?” your eyes widen, willing yourself to not look at what his hands were doing.
“Should have known something like this would have turned you on”
“I wasn’t even turned on” you exasperate, “I clenched my core like you said and it just happened”
“Mhmm” and you can tell he’s unconvinced.
“Stop rubbing your dick, you horny piece of shit” you clamp a hand over your eyes, thighs clenching when he lets out a deep groan.
“Can’t help it” he lets out a sigh, “I’ve been dreaming of what you’d look like when you came, shame it wasn’t on my cock”
Your hand falls from your eyes, “Dreaming?”
“God, haven’t I made it obvious?” he asks, his own hands falling to his sides, though now you have a full view of his straining erection.
“Made what obvious?” you whisper.
“That I like you” he asks and you gawk at him.
“You, like me? I’ve been trying to hint that I like you” you point at him, mouth falling open in disbelief.
“Huh?” it’s Jungkook’s turn for furrowed brows, “I swear you didn’t like me”
“I could have sworn you didn’t like me”
Jungkook snorts, “When did I ever say that?”
“You’re unbelievable”
“Me? What about you?”
Your body lays flaccid, muscles loose; heart hammering in your ears as Jungkook leans back on his hands.
“How long?” you ask, not daring to look up at him.
“High school”
You push a palm into the socket of your eye, low groan rumbling up your throat, “I’ve liked you since, I don’t know, probably high school as well”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, voice soft and you can feel yourself tearing up— so many emotions plaguing your mind at once you don’t know how to feel.
Jungkook scoots closer to you, “I could say the same thing about you” you huff.
“Why’re you crying” he frowns, thumb gentle as it brushes against your damp cheek.
“We wasted so many years. I seriously thought— you’ve had so many girlfriends”
“Because I thought you didn’t feel the same, I guess I thought my feelings would go away if I gave my heart to someone else. And then you started dating around too and I really thought I’d never have a chance”
“Me too” you sigh, nose scrunching up in distaste for all your failed relationships.
“Guess it didn’t work out for either of us huh?” he hums and you nod.
“I think we’re both stupid” you murmur.
And Jungkook nods, “I agree”
“What do we do now?” you push yourself up onto your elbows, frown on your face.
“Can I kiss you?” Jungkook’s head hovers over your own, the sun meeting the moon at the same point in the sky— your eclipse. The rest of your world suddenly shrouded in darkness, all you can see, think, smell, everything just Jungkook.
You nod, eyes flitting across his face as his arms cage your head. You can see his biceps flexing in your peripherals, thick muscle straining under the weight of his torso.
Jungkook’s lips hover over your own, a breaths width away from touching. You tilt your head up, pillowy lips cushioning your own and that’s when everything falls into place.
There’s nothing desperate about the kiss, ever so gentle and slow, the two of you aware that lost time can be made up in the future as you simply bask in this moment; your worlds aligning, tilting on the same axis, everything just perfect and right, and your hearts beating in sync, and breathing stuttered as you both pull away with hesitance.
Your hands cup Jungkook’s cheeks, eyes searching his own for anything, just something to tell you this wasn’t all a dream— that he really did like you back.
“You’re so pretty, you know?” he whispers, his lips pressing a featherlight kiss to the corner of your lips.
“No” you smile, giggle bubbling up your throat and Jungkook can’t help but grin down at you.
“I’ll tell you every day, all the time. You’ll get sick of me”
“I could never get sick of you, Jungkook” you push yourself up onto your elbows, noses bumping.
He tilts his head, kiss firm, and you moan as his tongue licks at the seam of your lips, a silent plea for access.
You oblige, arms slung over his shoulders as you bring his body closer to your own, heat radiating off the two of you in thick waves.
“You taste so good” he groans, hands wandering down your body, teasing as they pull up the hem of your hoodie, “Want this off”
Your fingers tug at the offending material, dragging it up your body, “Hang on” you pull away from the kiss, and Jungkook feels his cock twitch at the sight of you. Red swollen lips, a sheen of his saliva coating them.
You pull your hoodie over your head, throwing it somewhere, a problem for later. Thighs clenching as Jungkook stares down at you— eyes wandering.
“And this” his fingers skim over the edge of your sports bra, dancing over your skin, mapping you out of every little spot he wants to kiss.
You hesitate.
“We don’t have to do this if you’re uncomfortable” Jungkook’s smile is gentle, retracting his hands and you want to whine at the loss of contact.
“I want to” you tell him, hoping the shake in your voice didn’t sound too unconvincing. The incessant throbbing between your legs wouldn’t go away unless Jungkook helped you out and your patience was slowly wearing thin.
“But?” he urges.
“I’m nervous” you admit and he smiles; reassuring.
“How can I help?”
You squirm under his gaze, fizzling embarrassment painting your cheeks red, “Can we both—“ you cut yourself off with a whine.
“Come on, gotta use your words, my love”
“Can we both get naked” you splutter, “At the same time?”
Jungkook’s head falls back, fully belly laugh wracking through his body, “Of course”
You tug your shorts off, Jungkook following you; a pile of both your clothes laying forgotten by your head. You’re too distracted tugging your sports bra off to see Jungkook’s length slap against his stomach. Tip of his cock an angry red, his fingers barely touching his shaft as he closes them around the length.
“Oh” he croons, “How pretty. Can I touch you?”
You nod, falling onto your back.
Jungkook’s careful as he touches you, thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples, testing the waters as he tugs at them, eliciting a breathy moan from you.
“Feels good?” his voice low, and you nod; hips involuntarily bucking upwards when you finally cast a glance at his length. Eyes widening a little in awe.
His fingers dig into your flesh, and he bends down, lips closing around one of your nipples. Your back arches, mouth falling open in a silent moan as his teeth nip at the sensitive skin; tugging in a way that sends warm pleasure straight to your core.
He kisses over your chest, lips worshipping your skin, fingers skimming over the underside of your boob.
Each gentle press of his lips are searing as he works down your body. And your breath hitches as his hovers over your pussy, folds glistening with your arousal.
“Oh baby” he groans, and your thighs twitch as his warm breath fans over your core.
Your fingers tangle into his hair, impatient as they tug him closer to where you need him; an embarrassed whine falling past your lips when he kisses over you clit, once, then twice.
“Jungkook” you squeak, legs tensing when he finally wraps his lips around it, tongue flicking at your clit meanly.
He simply hums, vibrations sending a new wave of pleasure straight through your body, another gush of wetness dribbling from your hole. Jungkook wastes no time, fingers scooping up your leaking arousal before he’s pushing them into you.
“Oh” your chest stutters a breath as he pulls his fingers out of you, tongue licking a broad stripe over your cunt before his thumb brushes over your clit.
“You like that?” he asks, though the question was rhetorical as he repeats the motion. Tongue teasing over your hole before he’s lapping up your slick; sucking at your folds, squelching lewd accompanied by each hearty moan.
Your thighs start to shake, clamping around Jungkook’s head though that barely deters him, as he pushes your legs open by your knees.
“Stop. Kook— please” you whimper, “wanna cum around your cock”
That catches his attention, and with one final kiss to your clit he’s pushing himself onto his elbows.
Jungkook looks like the epitome of sin, slick stained chin and swollen red lips, unashamed as he licks your arousal off his face, humming in satisfaction as your chest stutters out a breath.
“Lemme get a condom” he murmurs, lips pressing another kiss over your knee before he’s pushing himself to stand. Your eyes follow his body, heavy cock bobbing against his stomach with every step he takes.
“Hopefully they’re not expired” he calls from the other room, and you giggle at that, “We’re good” he flashes you a grin as he drops back between your legs; foil wrapper held between two fingers.
You watch his fingers run down his length, thumb brushing over his slit and you feel slick dribble out of your hole as a bead of pre-cum coats the head of his cock shiny.
“Please” your head tips back, hands impatient as they tug at your nipples; Jungkook completely entranced by the sight. “Hurry, hurry” you nudge his thigh with your foot, and albeit reluctant, he tears his eyes away from your tits.
He rips the condom open with his teeth, a cheesy attempt at seducing you, and you weren’t about to tell him all he had to do was breathe and you panties would dampen.
He rolls the rubber down his length, fingers wrapping around his cock as he tugs a few times. You choose that moment to flip yourself over, hips raised as your chest lays flat against the floor and Jungkook moans.
“My pretty baby” he croons, hands roaming your ass before he’s pulling your cheeks apart; eyes fixed on your clenching cunt. Ever so enticing, silently begging to be filled and fucked until you can’t think or walk; a perfect excuse for Jungkook to pamper you a little.
You wiggle your hips, giggle muffled in the crook of your elbow has he parts your lips with his thumb, gently dipping into you hole before he’s pulling out.
“Please, Jungkook”
And that’s all it takes for him to line the head of his cock up with you entrance, tip nudging against your clit before he’s pushing into you; every inch stretching you apart deliciously.
“So good” you sigh, walls clenching around him and Jungkook can’t help the stutter of his hips, punching the air out of your lungs at the sudden intrusion.
“Sorry—“ his fingers dig into your hips, “Just feels so good, sucking me in”
You rock back onto his cock, breathy moan tumbling past your lips as your ass meets his pelvis; cock fully tucked into your pussy.
“Give me a moment” you shudder, body thrumming in anticipation.
Jungkook hums, hands wandering your body, fingers dancing over your skin. A surprised moan echoes throughout the room as his hands grab both your tits, squeezing them, fingers rubbing over both your nipples sending hot pleasure straight to your cunt.
He can feel you rhythmically clenching around him, walls sucking him in as you rock forward an inch before you’re sinking back down on his length.
“Okay” you nod, fingers holding onto the edge of the yoga mat.
“You sure?” he asks, pulling out to the tip, hips slow as he plunges back into you.
“Mhmm”
You feel Jungkook’s fingers dig into the meat of your hips, picking up the pace of his thrusts.
You can’t help each near pornographic moan that’s pushed out of you with each harsh slap of Jungkook’s hips meeting your ass, skin smacking wet as your slick coats your thighs.
“So good for me” his head tips back, arms hooking around your bent elbows.
You let out a squeak as he sits you up, and your walls constrict around his length as he pushes deeper inside of you, gush of wetness clinging to his thighs.
“So good” your head tips back onto his shoulder, knees helping you bounce up his length.
Your back arches when the head of cock hits your g-spot, ring of creamy slick gathering at the base of his cock each time you pull up to the tip.
“Look at that” Jungkook murmurs into your ear, one hand tangling into your hair as the other settles over your throat.
He tugs your head up, and you catch your reflection in the full length mirror; insides of your thighs coated in a sheen of your slick, Jungkook’s hips thrusting his cock up into you, both your bodies glistening with sweat.
The red hue of your cheeks flushes down your neck and chest, shade darkening with each wet squelch of your cunt as Jungkook helps you bounce in his lap.
He watches your tits bounce, both his hands wandering to grab them, pulling your back closer to chest as he pounds into you.
“I’m gonna cum” you hiccup, hands scrambling to hold onto his bicep as your other hand travels down your body, fingers gathering up your slick before you’re circling your clit.
You thighs start to shake, crescent moons indented into your skin as Jungkook’s grip on your chest tightens, your walls throbbing around his cock, drawing him closer to his orgasm.
“Yeah?” his hips stutter, “Come for me then, pretty. Let’s come together”
You moan, fingers unrelenting as you thrum at your clit in tight circles. Your orgasm wracks throughout your entire body when it hits, stomach tensing as your cum coats Jungkook cock, which twitches as he thrusts up into you.
He holds you down on his length, deep groan rumbling through his chest as he shoots his seed into the condom, your walls continuing to milk him of everything he’s got.
“Good girl” he soothes, hands falling to your hips as you fall forwards, cheek pressed against the mat as Jungkook pulls out, thrusting back into you gently.
“Thank you” you whimper, thighs tensing as he pulls himself out of your sodden pussy, folds glistening creamy white.
✯ ✯ ✯
Everything feels right. The two of you tucked into Jungkook’s bed after a shower, both your hands roaming one another’s bodies.
You’d clung to Jungkook’s back as he’d cooked you both dinner, work-out long forgotten as you’d both worked up an appetite. Muscles too sore, too achey, to even think of carrying on anything that isn’t wrapping up warm in each others’ arms.
It’s strange how so much, but nothing had changed. You still danced around each other with practiced ease, hands still feathery light, skimming over hips and backs, where legs are tangled under blankets, cold feet on warm skin.
There was something mellow in the air, a film of freedom, hearts on your sleeves for one another to see, where kisses felt softer, deeper in promise and love.
All the ‘I love yous’ holding the right weight, both understanding that the love you feel is the right kind of love.
He’d thought about it a lot, from the day you’d both confessed; messy, but a confession nonetheless. (And he had made sure to ask you to be his girlfriend in a more romantic setting than his spare room turned gym). That maybe the time growing up as just friends wasn’t wasted.
Failed relationships and sticky breakups simply teaching the two of you the right way to love.
Learning the give and take of relationships, what it truly meant to be in love with another person. Where you want nothing more than their happiness, a pure sort of adoration that consumes your entire being until they’re always on your mind. Small, seemingly insignificant parts of life reminding you of them. Trinkets in corner shops or the changes in season, certain smells, textures of clothing.
Learning about what you want for yourselves and how to take care of one another.
So he doesn’t regret all those years spent as just friends. Because maybe the two of you were too young, too eager, too scared about something as precious as true love. Growing up together, as just friends, might have brought the two of you closer than rushed first loves and petty arguments that you’d look back on and regret.
Red string. Stars. Fate. Destiny. Any of it. Jungkook doesn’t know what brought the two of you together, two souls intertwined until you both part ways when your lights flicker out. Though he thinks you’d reignite them wherever the two of you end up later on, new lives, new worlds. New everything, where he gets to learn about you all over again, explore your being, as you explore his, and you’re moulding into one another once more.
He wonders how long you’ve both been laying there, lips pulled up into lazy smiles, kiss swollen; little galaxies reflected in both your eyes.
Where every glistening star is a reason as to why you love each other. Your galaxies shining with a million different reasons, moonlight no longer veiling what lay beneath.
Because Jungkook thinks, if people were made of stardust before they were born. There’s no doubt in his mind, the two of you were made from the same star.
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munson-blurbs · 10 months
Note
hii 🫶🏻 i've had this idea of the reader and eddie being at a halloween party and her drink getting spiked (roofied or wtv) and like eddie comes to the rescue and takes care of her - enemies to slight lovers pls!! have a good day/night :))
Hi! I changed it a bit so that her drink was spiked with extra booze, but I kept it enemies-to-lovers!
Warnings: underage drinking (everyone is over 18 but under 21), reader's drink gets spiked, drunkenness, brief mention of Eddie dealing, Billy Hargrove needs his own warning tbh, enemies-to-lovers, idiots in love
WC: 2.5k
Thank you so much to @corroded-hellfire @lofaewrites and @manda-panda-monium for their help! Y'all made this fic much stronger, and I am indebted to you.
--
A brief, incomplete list of activities you enjoy: grabbing coffee with a few friends, walks down by Lover’s Lake powered by whatever cassette you’ve jammed into your WalkMan, reading a good book and curling up in the sunlight streaming through your bedroom window.
A brief, incomplete list of activities you despise: Steve Harrington’s house parties.
The bass from the stereo has the entire downstairs shaking, and you wince as you pass by it and make your way to Nancy. She’s the reason why you’ve started coming to these stupid things, and although Steve isn’t as big of a tool as you’d previously thought, it doesn’t make other people more tolerable.
“You having a good time?” Nancy asks now, bouncing along with the music. Her eyes are hazy with booze; her half-filled cup of the jungle juice concoction is clearly far from her first of the evening.
You shrug, hitching your bag close to your shoulder as a beast of a man in a letterman jacket pushes his way through the crowd. “Not really.”
“Cool, awesome!” Nancy chirps, senses compromised by the constant flow of alcohol and the blasting music. 
Steve has his arm around her waist, pressing chaste kisses to her neck. He looks up at you for just a second and frowns. “Where’s your drink?”
You jingle the car keys you’ve had clenched in your fist the whole night, ready to make a getaway as early as you can. “Designated driver. Unless you want José Cuervo behind the wheel tonight,” you raise your brows as you motion to your friend.
Steve shakes his head. “Nance is gonna stay here with me tonight,” he tells you, taking Nancy’s cup from her hand and placing it in yours. “She’s had enough, anyway. So, uh, go crazy.”
Go crazy. It’s tempting to dull the roar of the dozen or so conversations worming their way into your consciousness. And no doubt it’ll be easier to slap a fake smile on your face and even join one of them. But you still have to get home somehow, and the thought of asking either of your overbearing parents for a ride home from a party has your stomach in knots, especially considering you’d told them you were going to the library and sleeping at the Wheeler’s. 
Instead of going crazy, you toss the couple a frustrated eye roll, but they’re both too enmeshed in their puppy love for each other to catch it. Home. You just need to get home, snug in your own bed, away from–
“Hey, Goody Two-Shoes!” Billy Hargrove flings his muscular arm around your shoulder, pulling you into him despite your clear lack of interest. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s bad etiquette to bring down the party vibe?”
 “Get offa me,” you grumble, but his strength easily overpowers yours. 
“What you need,” he continues, stifling a beer-scented belch, “is to fuckin’ loosen up.” He punctuates his statement by placing one beefy hand on each of your shoulders, shaking you back and forth. He stumbles a bit in his drunken state, and you seize the opportunity to step away from him.
The entire encounter makes the drink in your hand even more tempting, and you throw it back without another thought. Your throat burns with the sting of alcohol, and you wince reflexively. Jeez, if this is what Nancy’s been drinking all night, no wonder she’s wasted, you think, grateful that you only had half of the cup.
Eddie Munson arrives when the party is in full swing, lunch box of illicit substances gripped tight in his hands. He hates spending time with these jockstraps outside of school, but parties are a great way to make some extra cash, and rich douchebags like King Steve practically throw the money at him, too drunk and lazy to actually count it out.
He sees you out of the corner of his eye, swaying to the music alongside Billy Hargrove. You’re leaning into him, with his hand around your waist pulling you into him. You laugh loudly, though it doesn’t appear that Billy’s said anything.
What a weird pair, Eddie muses, comparing your usual type-A, pain-in-the-ass, teacher’s pet personality with Billy’s thoughtlessness and indifference. He watches as Billy nonchalantly refills your drink and grabs your backside.
When Billy notices Eddie, he props you against the counter and murmurs something before staggering over to buy something. “What do you have tonight, Munson?”
“The usual,” Eddie replies casually, placing the tin box on the kitchen table and flipping it open. “So, uh, looks like Goody-Two Shoes is having a good time.”
Billy chuckles, twirling a toothpick across his lips. It’s a menacing laugh, and Eddie doesn’t care for the sound of it. “Yeah, she needed a little help, but I took care of it.”
He really doesn’t like that. “What do you mean?”
“Slipped a little extra in her drink when she wasn’t looking,” Billy whispers, flashing Eddie a now-empty mini bottle of tequila. “Shit was pretty strong to begin with, but she’s definitely feeling it now.”
“You spiked her drink?” Eddie’s mouth goes dry, and he snaps the lunch box shut. When Billy just laughs again, Eddie shoves him. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Billy holds his hands up in defense. “Hey, man, you can’t blame a guy for doing what he has to do to get laid. Especially when it’s someone as uptight as her.”
Rage pounds in Eddie’s ears, and he barely hears anything after that. He marches towards you, fists clenched. You weren’t his favorite person, and he wasn’t yours–not after what happened in health last year–but he’d be damned if he let you get taken advantage of.
“Hey,” he says softly, tapping your shoulder to grab your attention. “Let me get you home.”
You sloppily shake your head, jungle juice sloshing over the side of the cup. “‘M fine.”
“No, you’re not.” He’s insistent, tone much harsher than his usual carelessness. “You’re absolutely plastered, and I’m taking you home.” He extends his hand, and you reluctantly take it, letting him lead you to his van. Your feet are bricks beneath you, and you giggle involuntarily as you trip over them.
“Munson, what the fuck?” Billy calls out, charging over. His own stride isn’t much more graceful than yours; the Keg Stand Champion having reclaimed his title earlier in the evening. “Get your own girl.” He reaches for your bicep to tug you away, but Eddie’s faster, which only makes the jock’s eyes stonier. “Fucking freak!” he calls out, quickly downing another plastic cup of beer.
Your eyelids begin to close, and slurred words leave your lips. “Whas’ goin’ on? Why’s Billy shhh-so mad?”
Eddie ignores your question, not wanting to slow down and risk Billy catching up to you. Once he’s safely got you in the passenger seat, he starts the ignition and glances at where you’re leaning against the window. “Where to?”
“Home.”
“Right, and, uh…where might that be?”
You shrug, body heavier with sleep by the second. “Dunno.”
“Like an address, or a general direction…anything?” Eddie drums his ringed fingers against the steering wheel. He sighs and throws the van in reverse when you shake your head. “All right, looks like you’re staying at mine.”
He keeps his eyes on the road, stealing a peek at you every minute or so. You’re sleeping, soft snores punctuating the otherwise silent ride. He winces as he goes over a bump and puts his arm out to prevent you from falling against the dashboard. 
Twenty minutes later—it would have been fifteen, but he drove slowly to prevent jostling you too much—he’s pulling up to his trailer. “Welcome to Casa Munson.” He opens his door with a dramatic grunt and shuffles around to your side. “C’mon, let’s get you inside.” If any of the neighbors see him, they’ll assume the worst, but it’s either that or have you sleep in the van. 
The last thing you remember is mumbling about needing a bed and Eddie leading you to his with an offhand comment about not knowing where the stains are from. When you wake the next morning, a jackhammer has replaced your brain and your throat is filled with bile. 
“Ugh, fuck,” you groan, pulling your sheet up over your eyes to shield them from the sun. Except this isn’t the baby pink set your mom bought you from Wal-Mart. These sheets are white and smell like cigarettes, weed, and drugstore cologne. The realization that this isn’t your room has you jolting up in bed despite your body’s protests. “What the hell?”
“Good morning to you, too,” a voice grumbles from below. You look down to see Eddie Munson laying on the floor, a towel rolled below his head in a makeshift pillow. A throw blanket covers from his shoulders to just above his ankles, leaving his sweat sock-clad feet exposed. “There’s some water and pretzels next to you, and I can grab Advil if you need.”
You nod, squeezing your eyelids together at the pain the slight head movement causes. “Yes, please.” He returns with the medicine, and you eagerly swallow it with a gulp of water. A quick assessment assures you that your clothes are still on, but you still have to ask, “did we…”
“Nope. No way. Not even a little.” He takes a seat next to you, offering the pretzel canister. Though your stomach is churning, you need something to absorb the medicine, so you take a handful and carefully munch on them. “But you had quite the offer last night.”
“Wha—?”
“Hargrove spiked your drink to get you in bed,” he explains. His mop of curls is disheveled from tossing and turning, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “And, uh, not to sleep.”
“Yeah, I gathered that,” you mutter. A fresh wave of nausea washes over you, and it’s not from the hangover. Your memories are muddled, but you can vaguely piece the night together: Nancy and Steve, the unfinished drink, Billy’s arm around you… “We left before he could do anything, right?”
Eddie nods, stealing the plastic water bottle from your grasp and taking a swig. He swishes it around his mouth before answering. “Got you outta there before he could even cop a feel.”
You grimace at his brazen response. “Well, um, thanks. You didn’t have to do that.” You start to stand up, fumbling for your keys in your bag when you remember. “Fuck, my car’s still at Steve’s.”
“I can take you,” Eddie offers, grabbing the jeans he’d haphazardly flung over his desk chair. 
“Nah, s’okay. I can walk.”
“Seriously?” He throws his hands in the air, utterly exasperated with you. “You’d rather walk three miles back to Harrington’s—hungover as shit…looking like that,” he gestures vaguely at your smeared makeup and bloodshot eyes, “than take a ride from me?”
You remain quiet, so he proceeds with his rant. 
“Y’know, when you ditched me last year, I figured you weren’t, like, into me or whatever. But, Christ, what did I do to make you hate my guts?”
Your brow furrows in confusion. “I ditched you?” The thunderous headache makes it difficult to wrack your brain for the memory, but you definitely would recall ditching Eddie Munson. “I never did that.”
“Last April,” he begins, tone clipped and direct, “the night we were supposed to finish our health project—”
“You ditched me.”
He shakes his head. “Uh, no. I invited you to see my band play and then we would finish the project after—which you agreed to—and then you never showed.”
“No, you told me, and I quote, ‘Corroded Coffin has a gig at The Hideout at 8, and we can put the poster together after we play.”
“Exactly!”
“Exactly what?” It hurts to roll your eyes, but you do it anyway just to emphasize the absurdity of the situation. “That wasn’t an invitation; that was just you telling me what time the show starts.”
“What time it starts,” he says slowly, as though explaining it to a child. “If I just wanted to meet up for the project, I would’ve told you what time it ends.” His eyes narrow. “Do you really think I spent all that time doing research with you just to flake when we got to do the creative part?”
The missing pieces shift into the puzzle. You’d been thrown off when Eddie had failed to show that night; you’d genuinely thought the two of you had forged some kind of friendship during your evenings at the Hawkins Library. But when midnight had rolled around, you’d given up altogether, gathered your notes, and made the poster alone. 
“I…I didn’t know…” you muse, mouth drier than it was before you’d drank water. “I thought you forgot, or didn’t care…” You press a tooth into your bottom lip and gnaw at the chapped skin. “Trust me, I never would’ve ditched the guy I—”
You’d tried to cut yourself off before Eddie catches what you’d inadvertently implied, but it’s too late. “The guy you…” he gently goads. When you don’t answer, he sits on the bed next to you and knocks his knee against yours. “Would it help if I told you that you’re the girl I…” He tilts his head and peers at you through his deep brown eyes.
“Me?!” There’s no way he’s serious; you brace yourself for the ‘gotcha’ or some other punchline he’ll inevitably toss your way.
To your surprise, there is none. “What can I say?” he shrugs. “I’m a total sucker for a goody-two shoes.” He stands up again, crossing his arms over his chest and pacing back and forth in the tiny room. “So, since I’m the guy that you…and you’re the girl that I…can I interest you in some of the finest hangover food this town has to offer?”
“Can I brush my teeth first?” You grimace at the tang of last night’s tequila that sticks to your molars. “Unless you also happen to be into girls with wicked morning breath.”
He chuckles, a true and hearty laugh, and it’s one of the most beautiful sounds you’ve ever heard. “Spare toothbrush is in the top drawer,” he says, pointing towards the bathroom. 
Once minty freshness has replaced stale booze, you wash the remnants of your makeup off of your face. You look a bit better; tired and hungover, but better.
Eddie’s dressed in ripped jeans and a faded concert tee, keys clenched in his palm. “Ready?” he asks, leaning against the bedroom doorway.
“Mhm.” You feel his hand ghost the small of your back as he leads you towards the front door, sending shivers of excitement down your spine.
“Hey, by the way?” 
When you turn around, his lips are on yours. It’s soft and sweet, just a bit more than a peck, but you can tell it took every ounce of courage for him to do it. You both take a small step back, swapping shy grins.  
“Eddie?”
“Yeah?”
You take his empty hand and lace your fingers with his. “Does Corroded Coffin still play at the Hideout?”
“Every Tuesday at 8.”
“I’ll be there.”
--
1K notes · View notes
ilycosy · 2 months
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❝ HE LOVES ME , HE LOVES ME NOT ! ❞ | MATTHEO RIDDLE
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pairing : mattheo riddle x slytherin!reader , ron weasley x reader (platonicish)
summary — having mattheo riddle as your best friend was difficult, especially when you've been in love with him since the first year. not to mention all the people he's constantly with, you're planning on moving on when you catch wind of a gryffindor party: perfect for a last ditch effort.
warnings : fake dating (not w mattheo) , messy teen relationships , jealousy , ron appreciation <3 , theo n enzo r a little sick of mattheo , pansy n reader r the besties ever
aノn — how do u guys feel abt a part 2 of this ?? i feel like it's a little incompleted but im not entirely sure ... also ron haters dni bc this fic isn't for u <//3
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you couldn't remember the last time you had actually talked to mattheo. every time he had started up a conversation with you recently, it ended with him telling you about his (quite boring) sex life. and you were rather sick of it, you were supposed to be his best friend.
pansy had told you that he was too stupid to realize he liked you, and maybe you should just ask him out, but every single time you gain that courage— he's got another girl hanging off his arm. each girl lasts a week, maybe two at most but it still stings.
this week, mattheo had a girl. she was beautiful, really, seemingly sweet too. she would constantly wave at you and smile like she wasn't jealous at all, which you assumed she was right. if mattheo really didn't want to be with you, you'd just have to move on.
now, because you hadn't been talking to him recently, your party invites also dried up. you were hot, everyone knew that, but you were awkward and flighty with people. which is exactly why you latched onto mattheo.
many of his exes had called you clingy, so you eventually just gave up engaging with him first— officially starting your 'situationship detox' is what pansy called it.
you barely attempted moving on before you got a small piece of paper slipped over to you to pass to a hufflepuff girl, a gryffindor party invite. the gryffindor boy just awkward gestured to her, but you glanced at another boy.
bright red hair, freckles, and a little bit of quidditch dirt still smudged on his face. ron weasley, he wasn't exactly the most academically gifted, but he was sweet and funny (much to your friends dismay).
ron looked at you with a confused look when you didn't pass the note, but you had other plans. "can i come?" you asked, trying to sound confident and chill while your stomach churned at the idea of being rejected by the gryffindors, that'd be humiliating.
"uh," he said, clearing his throat before nodding. "yeah, the password is tapeworm?"
for some reason, you felt rather excited when you told pansy that you'd be going to the gryffindor party— you had never gone to a party without being invited by your friends first!
"babe," she cut your excited rambling off, looking at you with a concerned look. "you asked weasley. weasley if you could go to a fucking party?" she double checked like it was shocking, but you felt a spark of offense.
you furrowed your eyebrows, "he's sweet," you say, rummaging through your shared closet for an outfit. "you just don't understand because everyone's so obsessed with blood status, he's always been true to himself." you defended.
she went quiet for a couple minutes, watching you spread out dresses that are a little too modest for her liking. "well, if you're going to be going with weasley, then you need to show him how slytherins are better than gryffindor girls." she said with a smirk, patting your back as she pulled out different dresses.
"you gonna slut it up with me?" she asks, showing off a small red dress.
you scoff but take the dress, holding it in your hands as you admire the sheer black lace covering the deep red. "slut it up," you say with an eyeroll, looking back at her with a small smile. "you're going to be all over blaise, be honest."
you didn't bother telling mattheo about the party, assuming that he'd either be single again and looking for another one there or be arguing with his current girlfriend in the common room.
you didn't even know that he was constantly telling theo about how you barely spoke to him anymore, "she won't even fucking look at me theodore! i don't know what i did wrong, she's fucking insane or something!" he would say, dramatically flailing his hands while speaking.
only for theo to look at enzo with an annoyed look, enzo returning it with a brief head shake and ignoring the temper tantrum by reading. mattheo would eventually calm down and say that he just doesn't get why you're like this, then he'd repeat his idiotic cycle.
he really was blindsighted when he saw you at the party, he had just broken up with his girlfriend— apparently she wasn't all the nice after all, hooking up with another ravenclaw while being with him. he was already annoyed with that whole fiasco, so seeing you with weasley?
he saw red. he barely remembers turning to enzo before trying to approach you, only to be stopped by theo grabbing him and telling him to walk it off.
you, on the other hand, were having the time of your life. sure, harry and hermione took a little bit to warm up to you even being around them, but it seems like they're accepting the casual conversation that you're providing, which is a win for you.
ron has a hesitant arm around your shoulders, keeping a respectful distance while still being touchy. everyone saw it as amazing flirting, both of you guys seemed to be hitting it off greatly.
but you just felt awkward. he was lovely and amazing company, but the lack of chemistry was suffocating you. and he felt it too, his eyes drifting to another person every once in a while, wishing it was different.
maybe that's why you proposed something while tipsy, giggling into ron's ear as you talked about fake dating. whispering the silly joke like it was intimate, and maybe if he wasn't also tipsy he would've told you it was a bad idea.
but he didn't, and now you're bundled up in a sweater with a big r on it.
it could be worse, and you aren't complaining. even though it's fake, it was easy to be around him. he was thoughtful and constantly looking for that reassurance that everything was fine with you, it felt refreshing.
you missed mattheo though, and you confinded in him about it. before others arrived at the designated tree, you whispered into his shoulder about how it hurt that you never seemed good enough for him. ron listened, and he cared.
his freckled hands rubbed your side as you vented, comforting you while he whispered back about how he was so insecure about where he stood within his friends and family. you related to each other, and it was a bond you didn't think you could have.
he pretended to never notice how mattheo clenched his jaw and fists whenever the two of you passed by. while he knew that this was to make him jealous, he felt a little vindictive. how could someone like mattheo riddle hurt such a sweet person like you?
mattheo was spiraling, constantly watching from the sidelines as you and ron 'seemingly fell in love out of fucking nowhere' as he said to theo. he constantly ranted about how you'd never stoop that low, dating a blood traitor.
until enzo spoke for once, lifting his head from his book at the library during a study session. "maybe you didn't know her as well as you thought." he said offhandedly, ignoring the way the whole group fell into silence after.
mattheo didn't speak, just slowly sitting down in a seat next to draco. his cousin looks at him with a sympathetic smile before kind of shrugging, basically saying enzo wasn't wrong.
he didn't know you? that was impossible, you guys were best friends. he barely ate at dinner that night, just watching you laugh and eat with pansy while she gossiped about her and blaise. you were with ron weasley, and he was mad, he didn't know you, but why was he mad?
the next day, he couldn't stop himself from pairing up with you in potions. feeling himself get almost embarrassed and shy when he asked you to partner up with him before ron could, he felt a small victory when you chose him before telling the red head next time with a cheery tone.
the entire potions class was spent with you walking on eggshells with him while he desperately tried to get to reknow you, he felt ashamed when he asked about the latest album of your old favorite band only for you to respond that you don't really listen to them anymore.
he sulked the next class, but mattheo wasn't exactly one to back down— he was going to get you back, in more ways than one.
the following week was used as a way for him to worm himself back into your life like an 'annoying zit' as pansy called him, she did love mattheo but she loved you more and that's all that mattered to her.
ron even asked you about it, "say," he mutters as he leans over your shoulder while you're studying, "why's riddle suddenly all over you?" he asks, genuinely curious though his wording was harsh.
you took a moment to recollect yourself, knowing that he didn't mean it that way. "i don't know," you say softly, taking notes about a plant you could care less about. "he's a little odd sometimes, im sure he'll get bored."
but he didn't get bored, in fact it seemed that mattheo only seemed to go harder. constantly taking any moment to steal you away from not only ron, but other people now (not pansy of course, she'd kill him).
draco trying to talk to you about astronomy? mattheo suddenly needed help with defense. blaise needed to borrow something of yours? mattheo needs you to listen to him rant. slughorn even needed you after class, and mattheo was there mean mugging him while waiting for you.
ron talked about it to harry, laying in his friends bed while he read. "he's bloody obsessed with her!" he says a little loudly, almost waking neville.
"i know ron i know, your girlfriend is being hit on by riddle. im sure it'll be fine," he says, stroking his red locks and twirling it. "you guys are basically married with how you act, nothings going to take her away." he reassures ron.
he just rolls his eyes, pausing harry"s hand to look at him. "that's the thing," he says frustratedly, chewing his bottom lip. "we aren't dating, and im just nervous that she'll get hurt again by him."
seamus listened with wide eyes as harry questioned ron, whisper yelling is still yelling to a light sleeper. and seamus finnigan wasn't the best secret keeper.
it only took a couple days for the whole school to know, constant berating from the gryffindors because they thought it was your fault and then the slytherins cheering you on for allegedly breaking ron's heart.
you didn't even have time to talk to ron about what happened since none of the other gryffindors would let you around him, so you were officially and totally alone.
you sat curled up in the abandoned girls bathroom, crying as moaning myrtle cried with you. you almost started venting to her before the door was pushed open, your old best friend staring at you with wide eyes.
"mattheo?" you question, hurrying to wipe your wet eyes as he approached you. "what're you doing here?" you tried to ask, hiccuping slightly.
he just shrugged, sitting down next to you as he wrapped an arm around your waist. "i know you didn't hurt weasley," he says quietly, pulling you close. "you wouldn't do that to somebody."
you could almost cry with happiness, hiccuping again as you smiled and laughed humorlessly. "it was all fake," you confessed, feeling embarrassed but like you just needed to admit it to somebody. "me and ron did it to make people jealous, and i don't know if it even worked so it was useless and im just so tired of people being so, fucking, mean to me about this i–"
he gently shushed you, rocking you back and forth while whispering that you didn't need to explain yourself to anybody. he pressed a soft kiss onto the crown of your head without realizing it, stroking your back.
when you had began to calm down, he awkwardly cleared his throat to ask an even more awkward question. "so uh, who were you even trying to make jealous?" he asked, glancing down at you.
you just rolled your eyes and shook your head with shame, before just whispering in a defeated tone that it was him. you felt the shame rise but you couldn't let it out, it was just too much.
"are you serious?" he asked, feeling relief and surprise rush through his entire body.
"yeah," you say, not looking at him as you shake your head and scoff. "i know it's pathetic but you don't understand i just felt–" the only thing you actually felt was chapped lips against yours.
mattheo fucking riddle was kissing you, his hands delicately holding your face like you were going to slip away from him again.
"don't worry about it, princess," he whispered, pushing his hair out of his eyes so he could look at you fully while calling you a name you havent heard since the third year. "it's not pathetic."
you stare at him in shock, glancing at the lip gloss smeared on his lips— this time from you, and not from other girls.
"are you sure?" you ask with an awkward laugh, feeling a nervous giddiness rise in you. "because i played that one stupid flower game with ron about you." you confess before you realize, accidently oversharing like always.
but mattheo just laughed, kissing from your forehead down to your chin and slowly across your jaw. "he likes me, he likes me not?" he asked, and you could feel the smile against your skin.
"i played it a couple times," he mumbled, pressing his lips against yours again. not wanting to hear the teasing you were about to do.
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wynnyfryd · 2 months
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💖 2024 Steddie Fic Recs 💖
@thefreakandthehair and i were talking about how so many of the fics we can name off the top of our heads are from right after the show came out because we were still actively making rec lists back then, so:
in no particular order i present to you an incomplete list of fics i love that were published or completed within the last two months
short fics (<10k)
Found God In A Tomato by @beetlesandstarss 5.7k | rated M | fluff, text fic
syrupy sweet strangers to first date fic. without spoiling anything, eddie is a flustered cutie and steve is a fuckin' menace who's lucky he's so hot
he tightened he grip by @steddieas-shegoes 1.3k | rated E | crack not treated remotely seriously
Mickala beloved your commitment to the bit makes me wanna commit myself to you 💍
Slide It In by gayhandshake 1.8k | rated E | multimedia crack
another truly impeccable work of crack fic, i laughed so hard at the first image that i made it the icon for my private discord server
what's that sound? (there's a funny man at my door) by @jewishrat420 4.8k | rated M | spicy six text fic
laughed out loud at this fic so many times i really don't know what else to tell you. as a matter of fact, i went to look at my bookmark note to see what else i had to say about it when i read it, and my note just says "fucking hilarious i laughed out loud like 6 times" 💀 did not do not will never know what else to tell you except that the phrase "the goyim of gender" just randomly pops into my brain once every four or so days now
medium fics (10-20k)
In the Kitchen or the Tulips by @teddywesworl 44k | rated E | telepathic soulmate AU
this fic said "watch me flip this trope inside out like a freshly cubed half of an avocado" and then DELIVERED. i finished this fic and then stared at the side of my husband's head for long enough that he looked over and went "wtf are you doing" lmao hush baby i am contemplating the implications
they're going to send us to prison for jerks by @greatunironic 16k | rated E | social media AU
okay firstly the premise of this fic is so specifically and delightfully unhinged; love that i'm not the only one who looks at a random tiktok account and manically whispers to myself "there's a fic in there somewhere." secondly the execution is a 10 outta 10 outta 10 outta TEN
long fics (50k+)
Sneaky Link by @morningberriesao3 152k | rated E | onlyfans au
the sex is HOT the boys are dumb as goddamn ROCKS what more do you need? oh, what's that? you do need more? sick because this fic also has: the tags "cum slut eddie munson" and "everyone is gay (because i say so)", chrissy the homophobe slayer being the cutest little spy, and jason getting his ass whooped, like, spiritually. on a spiritual level. physically unharmed but that boy's soul is missing teeth do u understand what i am saying
podfics!
it was love, love alone read by @reena-jenkins 21min | rated E
am i technically reccing my own fic on my own fic rec list? you bet your sweet ass i am, i don't even care how tacky that is reena's performance is hilarious and deserves to be listened to at least 40 more times while doing the dishes
relax (lay it back) read by @flintandfuss 1hr 10min | rated E | yogi dom steve x sub eddie
listen if i'm already being gauche then i gotta include my internet wife's belated birthday present to me, like i gotta. morally and lustfully obligated.
Schiava by @teddywesworl read by aheada_lettuce 1hr 30min | rated E | kas!eddie AU
said it once already today and i'll say it again, i cannot believe one of the best reading voices i've ever heard belongs to a person i mentally refer to as fucking lettuce LOL anyway this read is incredible and i have listened to it Times(tm)
and lastly, if you want more recs (like, 348 more specifically), you can browse my full list of public st bookmarks here
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shelbygun · 1 month
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silent work
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pairing: jonathan crane x fem!reader
summary: it was impossible for you to stay still in his lap
warnings: cockwarming, smut, dom!jonathan, reader is a little needy
a/n: i just need to be on jon's lap, now (pss, it's my first fic, so sorry for the spelling mistakes, english is not my first language!)
When Jonathan works, you must be silent. He would put you on his lap, with his cock inside you while his eyes ran over papers, and you must not make even the slightest noise, otherwise he would punish you. It’s simple. 
You never disobey that rule of silence, you are always with your pretty little mouth closed, your face hidden in his neck. Sometimes you even managed to fall asleep.  
But today you didn't feel so obedient. 
You were bored of listening to the papers pass through Jonathan's fingers, the unbearable typing of his computer. He was analyzing some records of his recent patients, that meant you had to be quiet and still, not disturbing.
But boredom was killing you, and it didn't help to feel the veins of his cock throbbing against your walls, making the desire to move increase more and more.  
You glanced at Jonathan's face, who was too focused on what was written on the papers, and something crossed your mind. 
"If I move a little, he won't notice." 
Then, unable to hold on any longer, your hips began to move very carefully, trying not to raise suspicions and to be as sneaky as possible.
You felt a sense of relief when you were able to move and have his cock finally act inside you in a more pleasurable way.
The slight circles that your hips traced on Jonathan's lap were increasing in speed without you realizing it, but he did.
"Stay still, I'm not done yet. " He murmured quietly, holding your waist to make you stop.
You complained. "Please, Jonny..."
"No. I said stay still."
You pouted, burying your face in his neck and giving an annoyed huff. You had been like this for about an hour or even two and you still couldn't move, it was totally unfair.
About five minutes passed and you couldn't take it anymore, you had to move and end this otherwise you would go crazy.
No matter what Jonathan was going to say, you started moving again. You let out a low moan, feeling like that light friction was a gift from God.
"Don't. Move." Jonathan growled.
You let out an annoyed whine, pouting. "J-just allow me a little, Jonny... I feel very full..."
He sighed, putting the paperwork aside and focusing on you. "I said no. Stay still now." He demanded, grabbing your hips tightly, stopping your movements. "You're behaving very badly, fucking slut."
"P-please! Just a little more..." You pleaded, looking at him with your puppy eyes. You felt needy, your little pussy was begging for more.
Jonathan looked at you thoughtfully, deciding what to do. Then he looked down at the union of the two of you and at the incomplete work on the table.
"Fine, I let you. Just be quick." he finally said, sighing and making enough room for you to finish what you were starting.
Green light to continue.
You were actually moving now, putting your hands on his shoulders to make it easier. The little jumps you did made you moan like a dumb whore. It was all so relieving for you.
"Keep going, little slut. I want to see you cum." He murmured quietly, amused by how you moved so quickly, wanting to reach your orgasm. "Such a silly girl, huh? Always in need of cock..."
You moaned at his words, which encouraged you to go faster and reach your goal. You felt his hands on your hips, helping you with the jumps.
“O-oh, fuck…” you let a light whimper, biting your lips. You felt your legs trembling, your pussy squeezing his cock and that knot in your stomach was about to explode.
With one last moan you cum, panting softly. The mess you made oozed from your lips, staining Jonathan's pants white. You felt dizzy, but your face had a relieved smile.
You let your head fall onto his shoulder, regulating your breathing. You still had his cock inside you, and you will continue like that until he finishes his work, while you feel your sticky liquid.
"Such a little slut, always in need of Daddy's cock..."
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vashs-turtleneck · 6 months
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Say my name.
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Rating: EXPLICIT (18+ ONLY) Summary: After your heartfelt reunion with your boyfriend, Vash realizes how much he's missed hearing you say his name. Pairing: Eriks!Vash x fem!reader Word count: 6.5k Content: smut, angst, established relationship, oral, p in v sex, reunion sex, very service top Vash A/N: bro this took me so long. I put more effort into this than anything else I have ever written. Anyway, this is my first ever smut fic so uh please enjoy (had to make it eriks because he does things to my brain chemistry)
NSFW below, 18+ only, minors do not interact!
Vash holds your hand through the rickety, quaint house, helping guide you as you walk, avoiding the floorboards he knows creak louder than the others. As much as Granny and Lina adore you, he didn't feel like explaining why he was sneaking you in so late at night. Not only that, he didn't want to explain your relationship to them just yet. After all, the two of you haven't even gotten the chance to properly talk yet, about what your reunion after his two year absence means for you both.
Vash finally guides you into his little bedroom, quietly shutting and locking the door behind you two. He cringes at the how the door hinges creak loudly into the hallway, hoping it wasn't enough to wake anyone.
"So 'Eriks', huh? Did you pick the name all by yourself?" You tease him as your eyes dart around the room, taking in the space your lover has been living in these passed two years. Or... he was your lover. Is he still your lover? For all you know he found someone else during his time here. No, wait, that can't be right. He just snuck you into his bedroom.
Vash chuckles quietly, his gaze never leaving you. "Yeah... guess I did."
You can feel his eyes burrowing into you. His gaze follows you as you curiously take in the room, as you pat the bed draped in old linens, as you look out the window, taking in the scenery, the stars and moons illuminating the sky above. You've always had a tendency to look up at the sky.
God, you're as beautiful as he remembers.
He's pulled out of his own thoughts when you speak again, realizing he's been staring at you the whole time.
"Nice little spot you have all to yourself. Sheryl and Lina are both so sweet. They really do love you, I can tell. They're like family now, hm?" You say as your eyes finally meet his, your voice remaining soft, yet a hint of somberness weaving its way in. "You... You have a good life here."
You feel your heart start to beat faster, your head filling with a million questions that you're almost too scared to know the answers to. What if there was no room for you in his life anymore? What if he wanted to leave everything about his old self in the past, including you? What if, what if, what if...
You start to absentmindedly pick at the skin around your nails and rubbing your palms, subconsciously trying to calm and ground yourself. You're starting to lose yourself to your own mind, horrible thoughts filling your head like a poison.
Vash immediately notices the change in your tone, the subtle, shaky uncertainty in your voice, the way you anxiously play with your hands... Old habits die hard, huh?
"I do. The people here have been very kind to me. It's mostly quiet, apart from when I get myself into trouble. I'm grateful every day for it."
He takes a step towards you, his arms outstretched slightly.
"But, my life here is... incomplete without you by my side, mayfly."
He wants to hold you, feel your body against his, remind himself that you're really here, but he hesitates. What if you despise him for abandoning you? For leaving you behind to think he was dead? Worse, what if you hate him for the sins he's committed? For destroying July and taking the lives of its people? Not that he could ever blame you if you did. He hates himself for it. It's the whole reason he left you behind in the first place. How could he ever face you again after he became the walking demon with the 60 billion double dollar bounty on his head? He deserves every bit of venom spat his way for the things he's done, every bit of the nickname 'The Humanoid Typhoon'.
Yet, despite how much he knows he doesn't deserve you, he wants you so bad. Every moment without you had been agony. He didn't know where you were, how you were doing, if you were even alive. Hell, he wondered if he killed you in July too. So when he finally saw your face again, he swears he felt his heart beat for the first time in two years.
"Mayfly, I... I don't deserve you. I don't. I'm a monster." He takes another step towards you, trying to bridge the gap between you both. "...but I can't live without you. I... I need you. Here. With me."
He's fighting back tears, trying desperately to keep himself together. His vision is blurring from the tears pooling in his eyes, and all he can see is your wide-eyed expression. You're so beautiful, even if you might be about to break his heart.
"If you don't feel the same, I understand. If you want to hit me and yell at me for all I've done, I won't put up a fight. If... If you hate me-" Vash's words are cut short when you rush towards him and plant your lips against his in a feverish kiss, throwing your arms around his shoulders and clinging to him desperately.
Vash stays motionless and rigid in a moment of shock before he's flooded with relief at the feeling of your lips, your body, just you. His prosthetic naturally encircles your waist, pulling you in closer as his flesh hand tenderly cups your cheek, tilting your head to meet his lips with a practiced touch that makes it feels like you were never apart.
You became a shell of a person the day you watched him fall from the sky, like an angel stripped of their wings. You spent the passed two years believing, convincing yourself he had to be alive, or else you would have been lost completely.
With his lips finally pressed to yours, you feel whole again.
Vash can feel your lower lip tremble against his own, your tears mingling with his against both your faces as you each pull the other closer, closer, until there's no space left between your bodies, his stubble scratching your chin.
Your lips meet again and again, each kiss more desperate than the last, pants and sobs and the sounds of lips smacking filling the otherwise dead silent room.
"I missed you." You breathe against his lips, voice cracking from the overwhelming feelings of relief, love, and pain flooding you.
And Vash whines in turn, prosthetic tightening its grip around you.
"I missed you too. So much. Every day I thought about you." He whispers back, his voice strained, flesh hand pulling your face closer by the back of your neck. "I love you, I love you, I missed you."
"Love you too. Missed you so much..." Your voice comes out as a sob, trembling and broken. Your hands tangle into his soft locks. His hair is much longer now, the golden blonde mixing with dark raven.
You feel his tongue tease your lower lip, the warm muscle begging for entry, and you're happy to grant it. When your tongues entangle, he feels himself shudder with want, his body heating up as he gets reacquainted with the taste of your mouth. His hands move down your body, sliding down your waist, past your hips, and hooking themselves beneath the plush of your thighs. He lifts you up with ease, encircling your legs around his waist.
It's not close enough. He needs you closer.
He carries you to the edge of his bed, gently lowering you and as he towers over you, broad shoulders caging you in beneath him. He pulls himself from your lips and holds his weight on his hands, palms against the mattress beside your head. His face is flushed, lips wet with your kiss.
Vash is silent as he looks at your face, tears still staining his cheeks, his gaze reverent and adoring, yet filled with tragedy, like he almost doesn't believe you're real. His flesh hand cups your face again. His thumb traces your lips, your cheekbone, your jawline, his palm resting against your cheek. He takes in your features, committing the way your face has changed over the past two years to memory. You have new lines around your eyes, signs of how time kept passing for you, even without him around, signs of aging that he knows you won't see on his face. Fuck, he's lost this precious time with you, years he'll never be able to get back. Gone, just like that.
He'll be damned if he loses anymore time with you.
His hand trails down, thumb sliding along the side of your neck, down to the bit of your collarbone peeking from under your shirt. His breath hitches at the feeling of your soft skin beneath his hands, how your legs stay wrapped around his hips, your arms clinging to his shoulders like a lifeline. He can feel your body heating up at his touch, like it remembers him. He's missed you. He's missed your touch. So much.
"Please, I- I need to see you. Please." He begs, voice already breathless and needy.
"N-Need to see you too. I need you so much." Your voice comes out as a pathetic whine, but at this point you don't care. He's here. You have him again. You need him.
Vash wraps his prosthetic around your waist as he gently lifts your upper body up enough to pull your shirt over your head, tossing it aside. With your shirt finally off, you can feel contrast of his arms on your body, the cool metal of one, and the warmth of the other.
"I missed you. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry for leaving you, mayfly. I'm so-"
You stifle his apologies with another hot kiss, your hands weaseling between your bodies and working quickly to take off his white button-up. Your fingers fumble with the buttons until his shirt is open, exposing the scarred muscles beneath. His hands leave you for just long enough to push the fabric off his shoulders. When his shirt is finally off, both his hands move to the back of your neck, pulling you in for another heated kiss, making you both groan into each other's mouths.
Your hands trail along his chest and back, tracing over the myriad of rough, raised flesh. Your touch is gentle, as though you're trying to heal him. He wishes you could. He wishes your touch could take away his 150 years of anguish, only made worse in your absence, and heal this body he's so carelessly destroyed. Yet, he knows he deserves every bit of it for what he's done. If nothing else, at least your touch is a momentary reprieve from it all, a moment for him to just be.
His hips twitch when he feels your hands trail down his chest, over his abdomen, to the hem of his pants, fingers working to undo his belt and buttons, working them off his body.
"M-Mayfly..." Vash mutters, his breath hot against your face. He works the rest of your clothes, practiced hands swiftly unclasping your bra before moving to peel off your pants, tossing the garments somewhere in the room, leaving you both in just your underwear.
Vash gently pushes your shoulders, moving you slowly like you're made of glass and laying you flat against the bed. He sits back on his knees to get a good look at you, propping himself between your thighs, his half-lidded eyes practically glowing as he drinks you in.
You're suddenly filled with this overwhelming shyness as you're laid almost completely bare in front of him. It's been so long since you've been looked at like this, and you can feel the heated rising to your face. Your body has naturally changed since he's last seen you, and the thought that he'll be disappointed weasels its way into your head, flooding you with insecurity. Without thinking about it, your hands move up to cover yourself, draping your arms over your chest and stomach.
Vash's gaze break from your body before darting up, his eyes softening when he sees your blushing and flustered face.
"Oh, sweetheart..." he coos, bringing himself down to pepper your face with soft kisses, stubble grazing your face. "Come on now. Don't hide from me. Please? I want to look at you. I love looking at you." His large hands gently wrap around your wrists, trying to coax you to uncover yourself. "Please. Let me see you. I missed looking at you so much."
Oh, how silly you are to think he'd look at you with anything but pure adoration and worship. He's only ever shown you love and acceptance, just as you have shown him. Vash can't even fathom the idea that you'd see yourself as anything other than breathtakingly perfect. Your body is his place of worship, every sound you make a prayer.
So, with a quiet whine, you let him pull your arms from your body, his hands gently pinning your wrists next to your head flat against the mattress.
"There you are..." Vash whispers adoringly, pressing a chaste kiss to the tip of your nose before leaning back again to look down at you.
He takes in the sight of you beneath him for the first time in two years, his hands letting go of your wrists and tracing up and down your curves slowly, savoring the feeling of your warm and soft flesh. The world hasn't been kind to you in his absence, your body baring new scars he knows weren't there before, and he hopes to God you didn't get all those looking for him, sacrificing yourself for his unworthy soul.
"So beautiful, mayfly." Vash purrs. His hands trail up your middle, up your sternum, before parting to grope your breasts, thumbs rolling over the perked buds. The act sends a wave of heat straight down between your legs, your hips involuntarily writhing against the bed. In turn, your reaction makes Vash suck in a breath, his hips gently grinding against the plush of your thigh, letting you feel his hardened cock.
You both need this. Badly.
"Mmph- you like that, huh, baby? That feel good?" Vash whispers, voice hoarse with desire as he circles his thumbs over your nipples again, this time rolling his hips right against your clothed sex.
You howl at the pleasure, hips bucking to meet his own. You bite your lower lip to muffle your cries, nodding your head up at your lover. "M-Mhmm!"
With a lewd grunt, Vash brings his head down, pressing his lips to your inviting body. He sucks on your neck, nibbling and licking slowly and sensually, finding the spots he remembers would make your breath hitch, your back arch, and your grip tighten around him. He lets out a deep groan against your neck when you react the way you used to, your voice pitching up to a needy, wanton moan when he sucks on your neck just right. You tangle your fingers in his hair as shivers dance up your spine, rolling your hips up against his.
He leaves a trail of kisses along your form, giving special attention to any scars he comes across along the way, just as you had done for him countless times before. His lips reach your chest, kissing along your sternum before moving his mouth to one of your breasts, his skillful lips enveloping your perked nipple, tongue circling the peak. His hand moves up to massage your other breast, kneading the soft flesh in his palm.
And you can only do what your body tells you to, your voice quivering into what only comes so naturally to you when he's worshipping your body like this.
"Vash." His name leaves your lips as a broken moan, but they hit him like a typhoon, shattering him to pieces.
Vash's body tenses, all his actions pausing as his lips part from your nipple with a quiet smack, his hot, ragged breaths against the wet skin of your breast. He tilts his head up, bringing his face closer to yours, letting your noses brush and his forehead press intimately against yours. His beautiful baby blues drink you in, eyes upturned into a longing, pleading stare. His eyes captivate you, trapping you under his gaze. From this close, you feel like you could drown in them.
"Please... Say it again." His voice is raw, fragile, and begging.
You have to blink yourself out of your trance, completely ensnared by him. Even though he's the one begging you right now, with that look on his face, you'd do anything he asked. So, without hesitation, you say it again.
"Vash."
And he whimpers.
A name he hasn't heard in two years, lost to his new life. A name that, despite the heavy weight it carries now, was gifted to him by someone very important. A name that has always rolled of your tongue with a softness he never felt he deserved, that he used to hear you cry out over and over when your voice was pulled taut with pleasure. His name.
He didn't realize how much he missed hearing it, and especially how it sounds leaving your lovely lips.
"Again. Please."
"Vash."
"One more time. I beg you."
"Vash."
Vash groans again, his eyes fluttering before pressing his lips to yours again, catching your bottom lip between his teeth as he pulls away.
"Mmph... Fuck, mayfly. The things you do to me."
His lips capture yours in a hot, wet kiss, tongues tangling, his hips undulating against yours and seeking out that little bit of friction between your bodies. He can feel the heat coming off your core against his hard cock, and his mouth waters as he thinks about how wet you must be right now.
"Need to taste you, mayfly."
Vash pulls back before he stands up between your legs and pulls you by your hips to the edge of the bed, grinding himself against your thigh again. His fingers hook to the elastic of your panties, his eyes not missing the wet spot forming on them already before meeting your gaze again. "Let me take these off you, baby."
And fuck, you are absolutely reeling right now, barely able to form a thought as he continues to handle your body with so much care and deadly precision, like he know it better than you. And really, he does. Despite the time you two have spent apart, his confidence in his knowledge of your body and his desire to please you is naturally weaving its way back into his mind like it's pure instinct. You can't tear your eyes from him as he stares down at you with the darkened, hungry eyes of a man that looks like he's just found his first sip of water in days on No Man's Land.
He tilts his head as you stare at him silently, taking in your half-lidded, hazy eyes. His fingers unhook from your panties, palms resting against your thighs.
"Mayfly? Do you want me to? I won't do it unless you tell me to."
You whimper needily, shifting your hips back and forth, unintentionally teasing him as your body begs for more of him.
"Please. Please, Vash. I need you to touch me." You beg, your voice shaking. You need him right now, both body and mind begging him to do something, anything to ease the ache between your thighs.
With a smirk that flashes his sharp canines and sends another shivering wave of heat to your core, Vash swiftly pulls your panties down your legs, letting them drop to the floor.
With you completely exposed to him now, Vash hooks his hands under your thighs, pressing your legs up and opening you up to himself, spreading you out on the mattress before him and watching as your slick drips from your sex as he practically folds you in half.
"Breathtaking." He purrs, staring down at your sweet flesh. "And so wet already."
"It's... It's because of you." You say back, your voice a pathetic, high-pitched whimper, feeling yourself pulse with anticipation.
Vash chuckles breathily, his eyes never leaving your sopping cunt as he lowers himself to his knees, propping himself between your thighs.
"I know it is."
With a soft sigh, Vash presses his tongue against your cunt, taking his time as his licks his way from your dripping entrance all the way up to your clit, gathering your sweet juices on the flat of his tongue with an audible eagerness. His mouth presses a fiery kiss to your clit, his lips wrapping around your little sensitive bud as his tongue flicks it with a skillful precision that is downright deadly, like it's all muscle memory coming back to him in this moment, as though his place in this world is right here between your thighs.
For Vash, you truly are an oasis on this desolate planet. In a life that's been so lonely and so filled with tragedy, you have been a solace that he never felt he deserved, yet he selfishly let himself indulge in. After being by his lonesome for so long, how could he ever turn away from your open arms? You unconditionally loved and accepted his broken mind and tattered body, and he was never able to deny your affections, no matter how much he told himself he didn't deserve them.
You are the only piece of heaven he's ever had.
"Mmmh... Taste so good, angel." He coos against your sex, licking his lips of your slick before tonguing another stripe up your cunt. "It's been too long. I'm absolutely parched for you, baby."
"Oh fuck, Vash!" You gasp out, your hands moving to tangle through his two-toned hair, holding it back and away from his face. You can feel his stubble grazing your plush folds as he eats you.
"Say it again, mayfly." He mutters against your cunt, the vibrations from his voice sending shocks of pleasure coursing through you.
Your mind is a pleasure-filled haze. You're barely able to think as your lover positively devours you, gorging himself on your dripping sex like it's more for his own pleasure than it is for yours.
"Ahh... w-wha-?" You manage to mumble, barely understandable.
His head pops up from between your thighs, hungry baby blues staring back up at you.
"My name. Say my name again for me, angel. Please."
"V-Vash..."
He growls as he dives back down to your cunt, his tongue teasing your entrance as his nose presses against your clit.
"Say it softer. Please."
"Vash..."
"Say it louder."
"Vash!"
His hips rut against the mattress as he pleasures you, pathetically rubbing his still-clothed cock against the old linen in tandem with his mouth. He can feel his boxer-briefs soaking up the pre-cum from his engorged tip. His body is aching for you, but he'll be damned if he doesn't make you come on his tongue at least once before he fucks you. He needs to taste you as you come.
His right hand slowly trails up the soft meat of your thigh, fingers dancing along your hot skin until they reach your pulsing flesh, swirling his fingers over your wet heat. Then, he gently presses his middle finger inside you, the long digit curling and pressing against your warm walls, gently stretching you as he takes you apart from the inside out.
You have to throw your hand over your mouth to keep yourself from crying out in white hot pleasure, hips undulating against his mouth and hand, seeking out more of the pleasure he's giving you.
"This okay, mayfly? Feeling good?" Vash whispers before circling his tongue over your clit again.
You don't trust yourself to speak right now, instead nodding your head frantically as you moan and wail silently against your hand.
Vash groans hoarsly when he sees just how well he's taking you apart, eyes fluttering closed as he focuses entirely on your pleasure. When he feels your body relax around his finger, he slips in a second digit, his dexterous middle and ring fingers meticulously and lovingly abusing that sweet spot inside you until he has you seeing stars behind your eyelids.
Your hand gently tugs at his hair, biting into your palm and clenching your eyes tight, your thighs trembling against his head. You pull your hand away from your lips just long enough to call out to him, your voice breaking, your body ready burst, "Vash! M' gonna c-come..."
He growls against you when he hears his name leave your sweet lips in a such desperate tone, tongue lapping away at you more eagerly, your juices dripping from his hand.
"Yes, baby. Come. Come all over my tongue. Wanna taste you..." he grunts, panting as he fucks you with his tongue and fingers and grinds himself against the mattress. Fuck, he's gonna come all over himself if he doesn't reel it back.
His mouth devours you, digits pumping faster into your fluttering cunt as he chases your high.
When Vash feels your body tighten and convulse against his fingers, your sweet whimpers filling his ears, he moans louder than you, as if your pleasure is his pleasure, and it takes every bit of willpower in him to not come along with you.
Vash has always denied himself the pleasures in life, deeming himself unworthy for the sins he believes he's committed. But when it comes to you, to your pleasure, he's always eager to let himself indulge, his tongue lapping away at your sex like your come is a reward for his efforts until his mouth is dripping with you.
When he feels your body relax, your muscles unflexing, he licks one last strip over your cunt before pulling his mouth and fingers away. He licks your sweet cream from his digits, his other hand removing the boxers that have grown unbearably tight from his lower half. Slowly, almost like he's reluctant to leave his place from between your thighs, he raises himself up and towers over you again.
"You're so perfect, angel." He whispers, voice hoarse with desire, and you can see his need from the way his cock twitches as he stares down at you, his big hands holding you by the softness of your thighs. He brings his pelvis forward, gliding the hard length of himself along your dripping pussy, coating himself with a mix of your come and his own saliva.
"Vaaash~" You call to him weakly, your head still fogged from your intense orgasm, but your body craving him. Your hips rise to meet his own, and he grinds against you more desperately.
"You want this, angel? Wanna feel me inside you?" His tone is breathy and light, almost teasing, but you know more than well enough that what he's seeking right now above all else is your consent. How you got so lucky as to find yourself such a caring and thoughtful man (plant) is beyond you.
"Want it more than anything, angel." You purr back, using the loving nickname he's given you back at him as your hands reach for his shoulders. Because let's be honest, if anyone is deserving of the nickname, it's him.
A soft smile crosses his face when he sees you reach for him and, like a moth to a flame, he leans down towards your touch. One of your hands clasp over his shoulder, gripping him and pulling him closer to you. The other traces your thumb over his cheekbone, your finger dancing over that adorable birthmark under his left eye.
"Don’t go stealing my words now, mayfly." He teases back before his lips cover yours. When he pulls away, you feel him pant against your face, his body shaking and his cock gliding over you folds. Despite how much he's been holding back, putting your pleasure far before his own, you can feel now just how badly he wants this. He's at his limit.
Still, a pang of concern crosses over his handsome features, always thinking of you despite the agony he's in right now.
"If... If it hurts, I want you to tell me. Tell me and I'll sto-" You shush him before he can keep going, your thumb quickly moving from his cheekbone to his lips.
"You won't hurt me, Vash." You whisper tenderly, trying to ease the worries undoubtedly forming in that pretty head of his.
Hìs face softens again, his expression changing from one of concern to one that can be described as nothing short of reverent. His eyes might as well be hearts from the amount of love you see in them. With a shaky sigh, he nods his head once, and you move your hand from his face to his other shoulder, holding him tightly against you.
"Alright." He places doting little kisses to your temple and cheek, his hands on your thighs gently parting your legs further. "Let me take care of you, mayfly."
One of his arms weaves its way between your bodies, grasping his cock and aligning himself with your inviting entrance, placing a gentle pressure against your core with the tip of his cock. Vash's gaze never breaks from yours as he slowly sinks himself into your tight heat, the head of his cock splitting you open as he sheaths himself inside you, his mouth falling agape with a mewling whimper as he feels every inch of your sweet warmth.
Your breath hitches as he presses himself inside you slowly, your body taking him inch by sweet inch until he gently bottoms out, your nails digging slightly into his broad shoulders. You can feel him stretching you out on his thick cock, a mixture of the sweet sting and pleasure filling your entire body. You take in deep breaths to calm and relax yourself, your eyes fluttering up at your lover.
You're everything he's ever wanted, everything he's ever needed, everything his soul craves and begs for. He caresses your thigh and whispers between gasping breaths, a sweet smile on his face as your catch your breath, "You're okay, mayfly. Relax. Take your time. Tell me how you feel. I'm here with you, all the way." He coos, peppering your cheeks and neck with soft kisses as he whispers gentle words of praise and encouragement. His expression is one of pure love and adoration, seeing your body relax as you adjusts to his, your walls moulding to his cock, your breath slowly coming back to you.
"A-Ah... I need you to move, Vash. I think I'll explode if you don't move right now." You whine, hips bucking and writhing against his own, begging him to fuck you already.
His adoring smile never falters, chuckling breathily as you beg for him.
Fuck, he's missed feeling needed.
"Well, we wouldn't want that now, would we?" He teases with a shit-eating grin that splits his perfect face. He places a tender kiss between your brows before gazing back down at you.
"Hold on tight now," he purrs against the shell of your ear, tightening his grip on your thigh, his prosthetic palm pressing against the mattress by your head. He's trying so hard to keep himself together, but you can feel his arm shaking from the sheer euphoria as he supports his weight.
Gently, he pistons his hips against yours, his cock gliding along your inner walls at a sweet and tender pace and giving you the chance to adjust to the feeling of him stretching you out. As fogged as his mind is right now in a haze of lust and need, he is still acutely aware of you, and it would break him more than anything if he hurt you.
Vash stares down at where you two connect so intimately, watching how your body engulfs his cock over and over and coats his shaft with your arousal.
"You feel so good, mayfly. Taking me so well, like your body remembers me," Vash praises you sweetly, his face falling to the crook of your neck.
"V-Vash..." you mewl, thighs gripping his waist tighter, cushioning his hips as he pumps you full of himself. "Feels so good. M-More, please. I need you more."
"Of course. I'll give you more," he whispers, his voice dripping with tender affection as his hands move to your thighs, lifting them up and hooking your legs over his shoulders, folding you in half again. You moan wantonly at how deeply he can reach in this position, the head of his cock kissing your cervix.
Vash increases the pace, his thrusts gradually growing more deliberate and quick, pumping into you so deliciously that he wrings out every sweet sound you can make from your throat. He rocks his hips, his muscles tightening and relaxing as he pushes himself all the way in and pulls back out again, letting himself feel every inch of your velvety walls. Every pump of his hips has him pulling himself out to the hilt, leaving just his hot tip inside, giving you no time to breathe before he pushes himself back inside again, fucking you deeper and harder than before. Every time he pulls out, he sees your lips part slightly as you wait for him to ram back inside. And he does, over and over, making both of you moan louder as the room fills with the sounds of skin slapping.
"I love you, I love you! P-Please, please don't leave me behind again. Stay. I need you!" You cry out in rapture, tightening your grip around him and pulling him so his patchwork chest is against yours, your breasts squeezing and bouncing against his pecs.
"I'm here, mayfly. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. I can't- I'd die without you. I love you too much." He grunts against the side of your face, the sound of his labored breaths filling your ears.
He thrusts into you faster and harder now, the withered bed creaking and groaning beneath you both along with the sounds of your pleasured cries.
"Mmm~ Vash... Feels too good. Gonna come. Gonna make me come."
Your words break the last bit of restraint in his lovedrunk mind, grunting loudly against your ear.
"Fuck, say it again. Say it- Say it like you missed me. Like you thought of me every day. The way I thought about you."
"Vash!"
You can feel your body quivering and pulsing around him, and it only makes Vash moan louder, your pussy practically sucking him back in every time he pulls away. He moves a hand from your thigh to thumb at your swollen clit, desperate to feel you come undone around him.
"That's it. That's it! Mmm fuck~ I can feel it. Say it as you come all over me, baby. Please. Please."
Your orgasm hits you like a sandsteamer, your back arching harshly off the bed before you even have the chance to cover your mouth, crying out his name with a melodic and broken moan.
"Va- Vash!"
He's quivering, his grunts and breaths shaky as he feels your pussy clench around his aching cock like your body is trying to milk him for all he's worth.
"Ahh- S' too good... M' gonna c-come, mayfly. Gonna come with you."
Vash bites his bottom lip, trying to stifle the sounds of pure agonizing rapture, only for your name to leave his lips like a beautiful song to the heavens as he spills himself deep inside your heat. His hips stutter as he fills you with his hot come until you feel like you're bursting, hips slowing and gently rocking into you as you both ride out your highs until they gradually come to a stop. He feels his muscles go limp, pressing his weight down on you more than he means to as he collapses against your smaller frame. He covers your temple and cheeks with weak, tired kisses, whispering sweet words of affection until you've both gathered your minds a bit more.
"I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you." He chants over and over again with every breath like a prayer, eyes closed, relishing the feeling of euphoria filling his body.
He stays inside you well after you've both come down for your climaxes, cockwarming you on his thick shaft like he can't bare the thought of ever being separated from you again. But when he feels his cock softening, he carefully pulls out of you with an almost pained groan, disappointed at the loss of your warmth but his body completely satisfied and drained regardless. When he sits back on his knees and sees his seed spilling from your dripping hole, he groans, cursing under his breath. The sight is enough to get him hard all over again.
_________________________
After a night full of round after round of hot and passionate lovemaking, your exhausted bodies lay beside each other. The sheets are wet and tangled, your bodies slick with a mix of your arousals, but you're both far too content and tired to care about the mess right now, enveloped in each other's embrace.
"Mmh... bed's comfy. I see why you like it here," You coo against his head, his hair tickling your nose.
"Having a bed to sleep in has definitely been nice. Beats sleeping out in the desert," He mumbles and pulls you in closer to himself, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, his stubble scratching at your skin.
"But this bed might as well be a bed of sand if I can't sleep in it with you, mayfly."
"Always such a smooth talker," you chuckle at him. Then, your smile turns to a look of reluctance as you gently raise your head. "But I should probably go, huh? Don't wanna explain to Granny and Lina what I was doing here in the morning."
"Well, you were doing me." Vash snickers back at you, eyebrows wiggling teasingly.
"You're hilarious," you scoff with a deadpan stare, but you can't help the little amused smirk forming on your lips, "I'm glad to see your sense of humor hasn't gone anywhere."
He chuckles against the hollow of your throat, his lips ghosting over your skin.
"I know, I know. It's just one of my many charms."
"You won't need to say anything to them. I'll do all the explaining for you." His grip tightens around your waist, any thoughts of leaving the bed vanishing from your mind. How could you leave after everything that's happened? After you've both finally found your ways back to each other?
"Besides, they might already know you're here. We weren't exactly... uh, quiet." He chuckles nervously, and you can feel his face heating up as he thinks about just how much noise the two of you were making. You feel your own face heat up too. Yeah, the morning's gonna be a bit awkward.
Vash grips you tighter, his warm body flush against yours, clinging to you.
"Stay, mayfly. I need you."
Your body settles back into the bed, cuddling yourself up against the man you love most, and the world feels a little brighter.
"I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."
456 notes · View notes
mrcavill88 · 10 months
Text
Despondency turned rapture
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Pairing: Stepdad Andy Barber x Stepson Male reader
Summary: A recent family passing took a deep toll on you. Never have you ever felt so isolated from humanity. The only thing keeping you going are the lewd activities between you and your stepfather
Word count: 2.1k+
Warnings: 18+, ANGST, mentions of death, SMUT, age gap (reader just turned 18, Andy is 42) drunk Andy, reader is a stoner, intimacy in the shower, Dom Andy, deep kissing, skin biting, stripping, spanking, fingering, prostate orgasm, oral sex, face fucking, unprotected sex, cum control, breeding, cuddling
A/N: Hey everyone thanks for all your support lately. This is my first Steve only fic, hope you enjoy! (If you have any questions/requests, feel free to ask me in my bio;)
You're not quite sure how your life crumbled apart so easily. One moment you're frolicking in the park with your beloved mother and stepfather, then you're hyperventilating in a hospital hoping your mother's life could see another day.
*FLASHBACK 6 MONTHS*
"Mom! P-please *sniffle* please stay with me!" you pled as you tightly gripped your mothers hand, her body laying near lifeless on the hospital bed. "Sir! Why are you in the room? Your mother is in a fragile state I understand your pain but you need to exit immediately!" the frantic doctor yelled as he tried to pry you from your mother.
"Get the hell off me!" you yelled as you shoved the doctor into the concrete wall. "Mom! Mom! Answer me!" you cried as tears stained your cheeks, feeling helpless as your mother remains unresponsive.
And then it came
The longest, most heartbreaking beep you've ever heard in your whole life. The beep that signified the death of your mother. You fell to your knees as you've just accepted what reality has become, a reality without your mother.
"Y/N! What happened? Is she okay?" your stepdad Andy panicked as he rushed over to you, seeing your mother. "N-no, NO! NO!" Andy screamed as he hugged your body tightly, in grievance of your dead mother. Both of you sat on the floor, drowned in tears as you've both lost the dearest person in your lives.
The trip out of the hospital was one that wasn't that long, but for you and Andy? It was a million years. It took a host of angels to get you out of that hospital, several doctors needed to escort you out of the hospital room. That day, a part of you was never the same, you became an incomplete puzzle with a forever missing piece.
*FLASHFORWARD TO PRESENT*
You sit in your bed, still grieving your dear mothers death. A mountain of disposables piling up in the corner of the room, making the room reek of weed. A deep and scratchy exhale left your mouth as you continue to sit in your room, refusing to leave your domain. It seems like years since you've spoken to anyone,
Well, almost anyone
The only trustworthy person in your life? Your stepdad Andy. You two have always had a close relationship, you both understood each other on a level no one else (besides your mother) could. But little did each of you know, the deep feelings you both felt for each other. I mean, how could one resist Andy? His beautiful blue eyes that dilated each time he saw you, his broad figure and chiseled muscles, his structured face and sexy beard. You knew it was wrong, especially after your mothers death, but it was something out of your control.
"Y-Y/N! G-get your ass o-over h-here!" he yelled, slurring his words amid his recent alcohol addiction. You slumped off your bed and walked over to Andy's bedroom, the unpleasant aroma of alcohol filled the room as you shut the door; bottles upon bottles of beer stacked in his closet.
"Y/N, y-you better s-stop sm-smoking, i-it'll kill you. If I f-find one more goddamn c-cart in the t-trash, I-I'm whooping your ass. Understand?" he said, barely able to connect his words together. "You think y-you can talk? It smells like shit in here, I don't know how you keep all those muscles and that jawline when all you do is drink all the fucking time! Give it a fucking break already!" you yelled, right before a thick hand smacked your cheek, you held your face.
Andy grabbed your face yelling, "You speak t-to me like t-that again? I'll fucking k-kill you, understand?" squeezing your face. You nodded as tears formed and fell down your face. You ran out of Andy's room, into your room, slamming the door, staying there for what seemed like an eternity, but was only 2 days.
*FLASHFORWARD 2 DAYS LATER*
A light knock on the door awakened your seemingly endless slumber. You stood up, feeling sticky and extremely hungry, and dragged your body towards the door and opened it to a surprisingly healthy Andy, who didn't smell.
"Hey y/n, I know you probably want to talk to me but, I'm really concerned about you. You haven't left your room in ages and your mothers death (tears up) left its toll on both of us, but I know she wants us to find happiness in our lives. So please, would you come out? Maybe we could spend some time together?" he asked, caressing the cheek that he slapped the other day.
You gave him a blank expression, still feeling a little scared of Andy after what happened yesterday. "Fine". You finally walked out of your room, the sunshine blinding you as you sit down on the couch.
"Now, let's get you cleaned up. Honey, can you please take a shower?" Andy asked, his cute nickname for you leaving you a little bit surprised. You reluctantly entered the bathroom, it seems like an eternity since you last entered it. You undressed yourself and turned on the hot water, waiting for steam to accumulate before you entered. The hot water dampening your soft skin as you cleanse yourself for the first time since your mothers death. As you were washing your hair, you noticed the bathroom door slowly creaked open. The feeling of curiosity and anxiety filled you as you waited for someone to show up.
"Y/N? Can I come in?" Andy asked, as the door was still slightly ajar.
"Come in"
Andy walked in with a white tank top that perfectly illustrated his large biceps and broad shoulders, and, it got hard, and, it seemed that he realized this. He walked over to the shower and opened the door
"Hey! Get out! I need some privacy!" you yelled as you covered your private parts, slightly blushing. "Oh I'm sorry, lemme just close this" Andy said as he seductively slapped your ass, causing you to jolt and moan a little. "GET OUT!" you yelled, clearly aggravated, little did he know a little turned on as well. He left before you finished your shower, you turned off the water, dried yourself off and put on a tight little black tank top and some shorts.
You walked out and approached Andy in the living room, still a little surprised at what he did in the bathroom. "H-hey Andy, sorry I got mad at you there" you chuckled. "Oh it's all good Y/N, in the end, that was my bad. Come sit with me, the patriots are on right now" he said to you, bringing you over to the couch, sitting you next to him.
Oh God
You were feeling things you never felt before, things you shouldn't be feeling, he was your... stepdad. This was wrong, you couldn't help but feel butterflies race around your stomach, your body temperature rising as Andy got closer and more touchy with you.
"So Y/N, you like football?" he asked you, wrapping his muscular arm around your shoulder. You didn't answer him; you couldn't even think straight you were going crazy, sweat accumulating on your forehead.
"Y/N? Why so silent?"
"S-sorry I'm just-" you couldn't even finish your sentence before you found the six foot one man hands all over you, pinning you to the couch.
"H-hey! What're you doing!" you whined out as he got closer and closer to your face. "Oh Y/N, sweet innocent Y/N, I know you like me, in fact, you love me." he said, tightening his grip on you as he was practically an inch away from your face. "N-no Andy, this is wrong! You're my stepdad! What would mom think?" "Y/N, at a certain time, you have to move on, your mother was an amazing person, she would want us to be happy right?"
You shrugged your shoulders in response before Andy's lips crashed onto yours, your tongues twisting together, fighting for dominance; you lost. "Mm baby I've been waiting years for this, you don't understand how hard I'm gonna fuck you" he huffed as he continued kissing you, moving onto your neck. "Fuck, daddy" you moaned.
"Mm, daddy huh? I like that name, you only address me as that now, understand?" You whimpered in response as Andy started biting and sucking on your neck. Moans and whines leaving your mouth as your own stepfather was leaving hickeys on your baby soft skin.
When he was finished with you, you were a moaning and whining mess, breathing in and out at a rapid pace as Andy's eyes starting filling with something, insurmountable lust. "Strip for daddy" he commanded as he put you on your knees. You slowly removed your clothing unveiling your beautiful and slim frame.
Andy stared at your angelic figure, completely awestruck by the beauty that stand before him. He grabbed onto your shoulders and started sucking on your skin again. "Mm fuck baby! You taste as good as you look, you're gonna feel so good with me inside you!"
"Mm, fuck me daddy!" you moaned as the bearded man vigorously bit and licked your skin. He grabbed your body and placed your moaning figure over his lap; you knew exactly what part was next. He squeezed and fondled your cheeks, praising them before his hands gripped them firmly.
"Count"
"o-one" *SMACK* his hand swiftly cuffed your right cheek, causing you to wince in pain, and a wee bit of pleasure.
"two" *SMACK* he smacked your left cheek with even more force, causing you to scream as a tear leaked from your eye.
Said smack became 5 smacks, then 15, then 30. At 31, your ass cheeks were tinted red and tears stained your cheeks as your stepdad had just smacked the hell out of your ass.
"Oh baby, don't cry. Daddy is so proud of you, and he thinks it's time for your reward, baby. Come on, open up"
You aversely spread your legs open, leaning up on the couch you were sitting on. Right then and there, Andy slowly inserted his thick fingers into your tight and tiny hole. He used his spit as a lubricant to make the trip nice and smooth, causing moans and whines to constantly leave your mouth.
"Daddy! Ugh! Fuck daddy! That feels so good!" you whined as his fingers went in and out of your hole.
"Oh baby I love to hear you moan, it's like music to my ears. Now, this might hurt, just sit still ok sweetie?" he kindly said as he started finger fucking you with multiple fingers. Your moans started becoming screams as the feeling of pleasure, pain, and discomfort consumed your body.
"D-daddy! I c-can't take it anymore! I'm g-gonna cum!" you whined as you could feel your cock twitch uncontrollably, completely wet with pre-cum.
"Oh no you don't" he said cupping your cock in his other hand, making you even more horny. "Daddy can't have you cumming yet, I know you can do it, be a good boy for daddy". At this point, you were practically walking on strings, shear milliseconds away from shooting your load.
Andy finally released his fingers from you, sucking on them. "Delicious. Oh baby, you're such a determined little boy, thank you for not cumming, daddy appreciates it! Now, get on your knees baby, daddy needs to unload a little". You were still a little weak from Andy finger fucking you, but you got on your knees as Andy unleashed his meat. You've been picked down by many, but nothing surmounted Andy's cock. It looked to be 8 inches long, and insanely thick. You licked his bitter tip, causing him to groan out, before you started sucking his dick.
It didn't take much before you started gagging, your drool spilling from your mouth as Andys dick invaded every corner of your mouth. "T-take it easy b-baby. Oh fuck! Baby you look so good around my dick like this!" He started to thrust into your face, you almost fell back at his aggression. The sound of moans filled the room as Andy could feel himself getting close. Noticing this, you started moaning and whining on his dick, sending vibrations up his dick. "F-fuck baby" he moaned as he shot his thick and warm cum into your mouth, filling your mouth with his baby batter.
"Oh baby you did so well! Now, it's time for the grand finale! Come on baby, face down, ass up"
You stood crawled up on the couch and did as he asked, face down, ass up, your hole still lubricated after Andy's fingers violated it. "This is a very special memory Y/N, let's make the most of it. Alright?" he softly said before he violently thrusted his cock in your hole, going in and out aggressively.
"Daddy! Ugh! I love your cock so much daddy!" you whined as his meat was invading every bit of your insides. His thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier by the second as the pleasure he felt weakened his knees.
That's when it happened
His dick thrusted into your prostate causing you to go crazy, cock twitching uncontrollably as cum shot from your cock onto the couch, practically painting a section white. "B-baby, I-I'm close, y-you're doing so well" Andy groaned as he was once again close from summing, this time inside you.
"I love you daddy!" you screamed as your legs started to wobble. At those words, Andy lost it. His cock shooting ropes and ropes of cum into your velvety walls, painting them white. You both collapsed on the couch, completely drowned in pleasure after having sex the best sex of your lives. You crawled up onto Andy's muscles, cuddling up against him.
"I love you" you said before you lightly kissed his lips
"I love you too Y/N" he huffed before you both fell asleep in each others arms
THE END
Thanks for reading:)
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Megumi Fic Recs
note: i do sometimes link my reblogs bc there is literally nothing i hate more than clicking on a link only to arrive at the ghost blog page.
@romantichomicide95 i got you girl. lmk if you think i missed any.
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blogs to just read through:
@romantichomicide95
girl I could read your megumi fics for DAYS. and you have so many, you truly feed me. the FLUFF. the ANGST. the SMUT. everyone else should go read them too. right now.
@ponderingmoonlight
honestly, if you're looking for jjk fics of any sort her blog is the place to go. again, she has amazing reader representation and plot diversity, so i highly recommend.
@just-jordie-things
her fics are timeless and classy, and i absolutely love the way she writes megumi
@chuluoyi
all of her one shots are top notch, but her series unholy matrimony is literally my holy grail (no pun intended). go read it now
@meguemii
definitely a top contender for the number one megumi simp, and you can see that reflected in her writing. it's just so cute and they're like my comfort fics. except for that one that made me bawl how could you do that to me??
and of course, she may not have posted a fic in a little while, but this list would be incomplete without the one, the only, @kasumitenbaz!!!! you can and will find her losing her mind in the comment sections of any and all megumi fics. love ya kas <3
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@seiwas
Make This Drive Last 'Til the End of This Song (fluff, two-shot)
@xxsabitoxx
Megumi's ears turn pink when he lies (fluff) He never wanted to have children but- (fluff, dad megumi) Megumi's the type of man who...(fluff, suggestive)
@shisnhou
Until I Found You (fluff)
@yuwuta
Divine Dogs (fluff) Rodeo Station (fluff)
@wishmemel
Cherry Blossom Springs (fluff)
divider by @cafekitsune
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albondiguilla007 · 1 month
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Tomarry recs Part l
Soooo, for the Tomarry girlies, hope this reaches you. Here are some recommendations of the pair. You should know that all of these have something in common though, aside from being my favorites. These are TOMARRY fanfictions, meaning Harry x Tom Riddle, not Harry x Voldemort. (So, most of them time travel)
I feel more comfortable with this ship, and I’ve found that it tends to be less toxic, (though not always). Another thing, most of them put both Harry and Tom in equal footing, meaning, no abuse or manipulation (tho Tom certainly tries), or just any funny business.
If there is anything I love about these fics is how Harry confronts Tom in all of them, questioning his beliefs and social standing by just being good ole Harry. Sassy, magically powerful and impulsive Harry. So yeah, srry for that Bible. Enjoy!
- [ ] Wear Me Like a Locket Around My Throat: Technically incomplete, but it’s basically a second part. The main arch wraps up very nicely, so I’d count it as complete. The secondary characters are amazing, I fell in love with all of them. I don’t why, but Hogwarts feels pretty nostalgic in this one. 220k https://archiveofourown.org/works/7189349/chapters/16316573
- [ ] Terrible, but Great: Incomplete, still updating. The author has already written most of the second Arch. Tom reaaaallyyy wants Harry to submit and follow the Slytherin hierarchy. Harry won’t. They have the most epic confrontations. 173k https://archiveofourown.org/works/35714410/chapters/89052469
- [ ] Of Kings, of Pawns, and of Men: Incomplete: This one is addictive, I’m telling ya. I couldn’t stop reading. Not time travel per se, but still amazing. A tiny bit of Drarry. Harry befriends the Slytherins (Blaise, Pansy, etc) Tom is OBSESSED with Harry, like absolutely crazy about him. 146k https://archiveofourown.org/works/8323864/chapters/19063957
- [ ] you belong to me (i belong to you): Incomplete: Auror absolute boss bitch Harry. He reincarnates in another boy. Sort of? He catches everyone’s attention (Tom’s) when he starts acting differently (confident, powerful, won’t take shit from anyone) than he did before. 112k https://archiveofourown.org/works/11270490/chapters/25203408
- [ ] Earning his notice: Complete: This one is very short, but I feel like it sums up all my favorite tropes. Definitely give it a try. So my boy travels back to Hogwarts, is sorted into Hufflepuff, manages to fly under the radar during his school years and starts working on a shady business on Knockturn Alley. Everything is fine until his shop is attacked by Death Eaters, and ✨surprise✨he earns Tom’s attention. 40k https://archiveofourown.org/series/1174940
- [ ] At the end of every road: Complete: Crack treated seriously. Fluff, sassy Harry. Tom courts Harry, they get engaged. Sort of. Harry becomes a professional Quidditch player. 90k https://archiveofourown.org/works/46642903/chapters/117465823
- [ ] What Souls are Made of: Complete: My two fav things: Golden Trio friendship + Tomarry (Ron and Hermione travel back in time with him) 277k https://archiveofourown.org/works/35109247/chapters/87462256
- [ ] Stab right through: Incomplete: Snarky Harry, I love him. He gets sorted in Ravenclaw (Harry is equally as confused) Tom is intrigued. 80k https://archiveofourown.org/works/12051324/chapters/27288978
more recommendations here: Part ll
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worldsover · 6 months
Note
Will we ever get a sequel for Heejin's birthday fic? Just asking btw
Sorry. I am allergic to completing tasks to 100%. For example, as I mentioned in its author notes, there was never even meant to be a sequel since this was supposed to be one story, but instead I posted the incomplete version because the alternative was no story for her birthday. That being said, I do at least have a bit more written, so the same thing applies here: it's unfinished, but at least it's something?
✦✧✦✧✦✧
Heejin Birthday Fic cont.
~2.5k words, incomplete draft of the continuation to Transcendence/Pareidolia ft. Heejin
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This wasn't fun. Well, it's a little fun. All the games the two of you play.
The best/worst part are all the videos she sends. She starts with the typical: eating an ice cream cone, having cream drip on her fingers; covering herself with oil and rubbing it over her entire body; holding a vibrator to her clit, waiting for your text about what position you want her in; showing her sopping pussy from various angles, and you can tell exactly which angle she sent you and why.
And then her videos get dirtier. There's Heejin on a vertical video, sitting on her bed, dildo deep inside her pussy, just talking. She talks about how she imagines your cock sliding in and out of her pussy, ramming her g-spot and fucking her senseless, while your fingers rub her clit and your mouth suck her tits. You would fill her up with your cum, dripping out of her pussy, down her legs. Then she would get the taste of your cock as she cleans it with her mouth, and how the cum mixing with her juices would taste even better as she slurps it all up. Heejin has a gift for describing things with vivid detail. You never realized just how eloquent her tongue could be. You can't wait until it's on yours again.
There are the times you meet and end up making out and nearly fucking, but you manage to stop. You keep each other on the brink. Sometimes you want to rip each other's clothes off and ravage the other right then and there, and your hearts would race at the thought of all the consequences and dangers involved with doing it outside. But you had to be patient; you were the one who suggested waiting, after all.
But the weeks pass, and you grow restless. You can't wait to claim Heejin as yours, in the most intimate way possible.
And finally, October 19 arrives.
✦✧✦✧✦✧
The restaurant is a small, cozy establishment, with warm lighting and ambient music. You and Heejin are dressed in semi-formal attire, and you admire how beautiful she looks in her black dress, with a slit up the thigh that shows off her perfect legs. You're both a little giddy with anticipation. You feel like it's Christmas, ready to open the ultimate present, even if she's the birthday girl here.
As you sit at the table, Heejin's phone lights up with birthday messages from her friends, and you can't help but wonder what they would think if they knew about you two.
"Wow, you're popular."
She giggles. "I know, it's silly. But, it's kinda sweet."
You take a sip of water. "You know, Heejin, it's been fun, these last couple of weeks, edging. I've never gone this long."
Heejin scoffs. "You're one to talk. It's been hell for me."
"I believe you."
You start to eat your food. The flavors are rich and savory, and the portions are generous. The two of you chat about the usual stuff, like work and your family and the newest set of anime coming out, but no matter how you try, you can't resist being glued to her every touch. Her finger absentmindedly twirls around a strand of hair. Her thighs shift in her seat. A napkin wipes the side of her mouth. The candlelight, and the warmth of the establishment makes her glow, and you're hopelessly under her spell.
Of course, her heel brushing against your inner thigh doesn't help.
"You seem tense," she says.
"Great observation."
"You know, for some reason, I don't feel that full, even after all I ate."
"You wanna go to another restaurant or something?"
Heejin rolls her eyes. "That's not what I'm hungry for."
Your mouth rounds to a circle.
She rubs her heel on your pants. "What?"
You throw the napkin on the table and stand up. "Excuse me, I have to use the restroom."
Heejin bites her lip as you walk away. You enter the bathroom. It's its own individual room, fancy and well-kept. You walk up to the sink and splash cold water on your face, sighing.
You use the toilet. Then, you use your phone to find the nearest hotel and its nearest vacancy. Can't even wait to bring her home. You text her your plan for the night.
Seems even that is too much waiting. A knock. She texts you back.
> open the door.
You gulp. You do, and Heejin steps in, her breathing erratic, her smile mischievous. She pulls you by your tie for a kiss, shoving you against the door. Your tongue and hers are tangling, and you reach for her breast. Your knee is lifting her skirt, and she's grinding against it.
"Heejin," you say, "we gotta, we gotta go somewhere else."
"I can kneel here." And she does just that. "We can make this quick."
She unbuckles your pants and frees your cock, your limp-cock instantly hard in the warmth of her mouth, instantly in the back of her throat.
"Heejin, no, wait, we were saving..."
Pop. "Oh, what, like you don't wanna blow your load down my throat and cum all over my tits and face?"
She's pumping, her fingers slick and tight around your shaft, your cockhead rubbing against her face. She sucks on your balls.
"I bet you'd absolutely ruin this fucking dress with your load."
In the next five minutes, Heejin proceeds to slather your cock in her spit while sucking you down with best blowjob you've ever received. Her lips and tongue are tight, and the heat of her mouth and the vacuum of her suction feels so divine around your cock. And her moans, oh, fuck, how you missed her moans around your shaft. The vibrations tickle your skin and your nerves. You're thankful for the door and the weight of your body preventing the two of you from collapsing, because the pleasure is making your knees weak. And if that wasn't enough, Heejin is relentless in her dirty talk and her sucking.
"God, your cock is fucking amazing. I wanna drink your cum forever. I wish you could shoot your cum deep in my pussy, fill me up. I can't wait to get your cock in my cunt."
She bobs faster, deeper, sucking more intensely. You're about to burst. She knows. Heejin reaches between your legs and squeezes your balls.
Then, she pulls back. Pop. "So, where's the hotel?"
✦✧✦✧✦✧
You pay for your meals, and then you're on the way to the hotel. It's a short taxi ride away, and the two of you keep your hands to yourself.
Once you're in the elevator, you hold Heejin's waist, and she faces you, giggling.
"What?" you ask.
"Nothing," she says. "Just… happy."
You lean down to kiss her. "Have I told you enough that you're the prettiest girl on the planet?"
"A couple times." She kisses back. "I don't mind you telling me more."
You brush strands of hair away from her face. She puts her hands on your face. Your hand slides up her waist to cup her cheek. She runs her thumb across your bottom lip.
Ding. The elevator doors open, and you step into the hallway. Your room is a few steps down, and you unlock the door.
It's a basic suite, and you don't waste time, dropping your stuff, locking the door, and moving to the bed, pushing Heejin down and kneeling to her height.
She giggles. "Gotta catch up, huh?"
You slide her shoes off her feet, then your own. Then, you slip your hands under her dress and hook a finger on her panties, moving them down her legs. All the while, she takes off your suit jacket and undoes your belt. You move Heejin's panties completely off her ankles. They're soaked. She lies down on the bed.
Your cock is throbbing, but you can't stop staring at the view.
She blushes. "N-no, no more edging. Please. I need to cum, so, so fucking bad. I need you in me, right fucking now."
You swallow. "Don't worry. I'll be inside you soon enough. Just, lemme get a good look of your body first."
Heejin smiles. "My body, huh? What, what's so special about it?"
"Everything."
You're on top of Heejin now, caressing her face.
"Everything," you repeat. You lower your head. "Especially your eyes." You lower your head again. "And your lips." You kiss them. "And your neck." You kiss. She moans. You continue kissing downwards, licking along her collarbone, nibbling on the side of her throat, biting her shoulder. Then you lick the valley between her breasts, pull down the neckline of her dress, and lick circles on her nipples. You hike up the hem of dres to reach a hand to her pussy. "And, this." You rub her lips.
She moans. "What… about that?"
You crawl lower, your face between her legs. You spread her lips, already wet, and you stick your tongue inside her hole. "The prettiest pussy I've ever seen." You lick up her slit.
Heejin grabs your hair and pulls you. "I'm sorry, but I can't wait anymore. Fuck me."
You wipe your mouth. "Yeah, yeah, sorry."
"Just… put it in me already."
You get on your knees and rub your cockhead against Heejin's lips, smearing pre-cum. You rub it around her clit, and she shudders, whimpering.
Heejin pushes on your chest. "Wait, hold on, sit up. I wanna watch. Please. Your cock… entering me. I can't wait to see it."
You nod. Heejin sits up too. You grab Heejin's thighs and spread them. Your cockhead rubs against Heejin's entrance again.
"Holy shit, holy shit," she says.
You lick your lips. You push your cock into Heejin's hole, and your head is swimming in her heat, her wetness. Her pussy is already sucking you in, and Heejin is already moaning, and her whole body is already trembling.
"Shit, Heejin, you're already going to cum?"
She nods. "Yes! I'm sorry, it's just, you're finally, finally inside me. I've dreamed about this, so many times, and now it's happening."
"Me too. It's fine, it's fine." You pull back, and then you thrust again, a bit deeper, and Heejin shudders again. "Holy shit."
You pump slowly, Heejin moaning louder and louder, her pussy squeezing you tighter and tighter. Your grip on her thighs is tight, and you push her down, burying your cock deeper. Her back arches, and you start thrusting faster. You grunt. Heejin's pussy is milking your cock, sucking you deeper, and you're pounding her cunt, her moans and your grunts filling the room, until she lets out a scream, a high-pitched, satisfied noise, and her walls are convulsing. And just as you said, you empty your load deep inside her, rope after rope, a thick batch of semen pooling in her hole and leaking past your shaft.
"Holy… shit," she says. Heejin's trying to catch her breath. She looks up at you, a slight smirk on her face. "You're still hard, right?"
You look down. You're still hard.
Even though her legs writhe and her toes curl, she fucks herself into your shaft, covering it in more and more cream.
"Fucking, hell, Heejin, just like that?" You clench your jaw.
"Yeah. Yeah, we just started. I love watching you pump your cock in and out of my pussy, seeing it get all sloppy."
You chuckle. "Slut."
"For you." She wraps her legs around your waist, her arms around your back. "Wreck me."
You can do nothing but comply. Heejin's eyes roll back, her lips tremble, and her nails dig into your back, and you fuck her, you fuck Heejin, hard. Using your own creampie as lube, your cock plunges and slams inside Heejin's pussy, over and over. You pick her up from the bed and pound into her as you carry her around the room, making loud wet slaps fill the air. Then, you set her down on the desk, gripping her shoulders, and the room shakes with your thrusts.
Heejin screams and babbles. You're about to cum again already, and so is she. You love her expression, like she's completely drunk to your cock as she loses herself to the pleasure of it stuffing her, pushing your first creampie out just to fill her up again. You're sure she can feel your heartbeat from how far your cock is in her womb. You slow down, then you pull out. Heejin's pussy is drooling cum, and she lies flat on the desk. Your head is so light that you only just now realize you're still cumming, so you jack off onto her body, mainly covering her dress in cum, though some of it reaches her chin. Heejin promptly licks that clean.
"Why," she says. "Why'd you stop? You're, you're still hard. Please."
"Turn around. Get on your hands and knees."
She obeys. "Yes, sir," she says, and you like the way she says that.
You grab Heejin's waist, and then you slam into her pussy. Your pace is just as brutal as when you started the night. Turns out that edging for weeks, then cumming inside a woman's tight pussy, then pulling out and painting her in your cum is more than enough to keep your cock rock hard, and Heejin is more than eager to have your cock pounding her hole as many times as you want.
After the fourth round, your fifth climax, Heejin is a mess on the bed, and so is your cock. It's covered in her cum and your cum and some of her saliva, and her tongue is lazily circling your cockhead while she rests her head on your thighs.
"Do you, do you want to keep going?"
Heejin nods. "Why? Are you tired?"
"I mean, I'm pretty sure I have another few in me. But my abs are killing me."
"Oh yeah? You should try doing planks."
"The way you do them? Yeah, ri—" You're interrupted when Heejin climbs up your body and grabs your cock. You flinch. "No, wait, wait, wait. Wait, Heejin."
"Are you afraid?"
You gulp. "Very."
"I promise it won't hurt. It'll be fun."
When Heejin says it, you believe her. "Fine. Go for it."
Heejin grins. "Awesome." As she positions herself over your shaft, the creampie you filled her with starts to leak onto your stomach, and she holds your cock to point it up towards her hole. She lowers her pussy, and your cock enters her again. She rides you, holding your cock by the base so that the entire time, you feel the entirety of her tunnel envelop you, and your cum is squishing all over her insides.
✦✧✦✧✦✧
If I do get around to finishing the story, I will probably delete this and the initial version of Transcendence, post the full version instead. Big if.
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cuubism · 29 days
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I love the concept of 'wish pregnancy' so much. Please, tell us more :D
ahh, mpreg 😂
the thing is i usually don't like thinking about pregnancy as a concept, and yet here with are with this fic that's 12000 words of it. dream and his strange metaphysical pregnancy and hob having an absolute hellish time trying to be prepared while dream just keeps answering every question with "i guess we'll find out :)" since none of this has happened before. i'm so close to being done with it
--
“I could have crafted a more elegant cradle of dreams,” Dream informs him then, because he really is apparently in a pissy little mood. Hob’s inclined to give him more leeway about it right now, though—not that he doesn’t give him miles of it anyway. “Oi,” he protests. “This is a perfectly serviceable crib! Besides, you don’t have to do everything.” “It has but two legs,” Dream says of the crib. “It’s incomplete.” Hob taps Dream’s belly. “And it doesn’t need to be complete until that’s complete. Worry about your part of things and I’ll worry about mine.” “I will strive to,” Dream says. Then sighs. “It was not only my choice to visit today. I was becoming a distraction in the Dreaming. Or so I was told. By many.” “They kicked you out?” “They strongly encouraged”—it has the sound of a Lucienne quote—“me to leave for a break.” It’s probably not the worst thing in the world. “Normally I’d expect a whole thunderstorm when you’re told that.” “It irritated me greatly,” Dream agrees, either ignoring or just missing the gentle ribbing in Hob’s tone, “but I did not want to cause chaos. This is a delicate time for her.” Hob can just hear Matthew’s reaction to that line in his head—oh you don’t want to cause chaos for the BABY? what are we, chopped liver?—but doesn’t mention it to Dream.
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