#see let this be proof that i still don’t know what the fuck i’m doing and i’ve been writing this story for 7 years

[gloxk]

hate fuckin w aot plz🙏🏿 like uh what position would they fuck you in when they mad?

Fuck me like you mad at me baby.

(Eren Y. Connie S. Armin A.)

A/N: BEAT THAT COOCHIE UP LIKE YOU MAD AT A BITCH! Sorry it took so long to get your request. But let’s just all agree Eren, Connie, Armin are the big three. I’m not arguing with anyone. It’s true. NOT PROOF READ! 17+

Synopsis: Aot men fucking you after an argument!

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༺Connie༻

—————ON DA WALL.

Connie isn’t going to show you he’s mad, but baby you gonna feel it.

And oh boy you done did it today. After he seen you flirt with a guy…jeez. You really got him walking around in circles trying to not scream at the top of his lungs.

You not going to know he’s mad for a while, after an argument and you THINK everything cooled down it hasn’t. He’s still pissed.

Props to him for controlling his anger (Eren could never.) But when you start sweet talking him again that’s when it comes out.

When you get to rubbing on his chest and start saying “I’m so sorry baby, lemme make it up to you. Please.” with that little whine in your voice…oh best believe he gonna make you sorry for real.

He gives you a small grin and says “Oh for real? You wanna make it up to me?” You should have never even offered because now look at you. Against the kitchen wall crying out how sorry you are.

“You sorry ma? How sorry?” The harshness of his voice craving down on you. You couldn’t even spit out a comprehendible sentence just “Yes mmm so sorry!”

He was satisfied with your sorry, after the second round. I mean after all you did offer…

༺Eren༻

—————FROM DA FRONT.

Now, Eren he’s rough rough when he’s mad. Like oh lord..pray he don’t get his hands on you.

Please run while you can, because after he got you alone you can’t run.

This was especially the case after he found out you followed a guy from your work place, the same guy who continuously flirted with you.

Don’t ask him how he knows, he just does.

“I ain’t dumb mama. So go ahead and do as I asked.” The request was so simple, just unfollow him. But the principle pissed you off, you never told him who to follow and who too not. So you refused. Wrong answer…

Because that refusal sent him through the roof. He just laughed while shaking his head. He tossed you on the bed with no regards.

You never been fucked so hard in your life…The headboard slammed against the wall with each thrust he gave you it was ridiculous. “Look at me while I fuck you.” Eren spat out.

Your poor neighbors, the surely heard the madness that was occurring in your bedroom. But Eren did not give a single fuck.

He had your hair twisted in his fingers while he watched you block ole boy on everything single app you had. “Nuh uh. you ain’t done yet. Block him on spotify.” You were going to learn not to go seeking attention from anyone that wasn’t him.

“Nobody’s better than me mama. You should know better than that.”

༺Armin༻

————— BENT OVA.

You would never expect Armin to act the way he acts when he’s MAD.

Of course he got upset with you before but never something that made you change your view on him.

He always tried to be understanding, always listening to what you had to say and what was wrong. But, today was a little different.

He got so mad that you commented on how his friend looked good. He took it as you wanted his friend, but that wasn’t your intention at all.

“Ah, I see. Well just how good did he look y/n?! Why don’t you just tell him how much you want him to fuck you!” His insecurities were really starting to show. But damn, he just look so fucking hot with his button up shirt slightly undone, and his hair sticking to face. His eyes widened, it was a sexy sight. Armin could tell how turned on you were getting from him slightly raising his voice.

“Fuck—y/n. Stop looking at me like that.” The threw his keys on the table while shaking his head. Armin couldn’t look at you while your hand traveled up his shirt rubbing his abdomen. You were making it so difficult for him to be mad at you right now. Especially since you started begging for him to calm down and let you make him feel better.

The small tugs at his shirt just really got him going. He immediately bent you over on the couch, throwing your clothes everywhere. “Can’t even look at you. So fucking filthy.”

You tried to move away from him pounding your insides, hoping to get a break but no. “What the fuck did I tell you about that shit? Just fuckin take it.” Sluts didn’t deserve a break. They didn’t get that courtesy.

Eventually his hatred turned into love and he started spilling out how much he loved you while he was close to cumming. “I love you so much.” & “You mean the world to me.” & “Wanna make you a mommy.”

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Ah! tysm for 400!

#eyena writes♡ #eren jeager smut #eren jeager x reader #eren x black fem!reader #eren x black reader #eren x reader #eren x y/n #eren smut #eren x you #eren yeager #armin x black reader #armin x y/n #armin x you #armin smut #armin fluff #armin x reader #plug connie #connie x black reader #connie smut #connie springer #aot connie #aot smut

[simpjaes]

SIMP

SUMMARY: men are liars. especially, jake sim, some guy you met once at a party and now only know through text messages. he makes promises he can’t keep but it’s mostly because he likes to hide that he’s more desperate than you are to get his dick wet. 

jake sim x afab reader 

MDNI!

WC: 5.6k

GENRE: smut, kinda subby!jake

TAGS: desperate jake, he’s experienced with sex just really bad at not being pussy drunk, reader has fun anyway and pokes fun at how he talked big game and couldn’t live up to it.

A/N:  i know, i know. i’m supposed to be writing a different jake fic but this happened.  this is a gift for my other monster cock loser jake lovers. not proof read

NSFW TAGS: he is packing a huge cock, nipple play, finger fucking, pussy eating, he gets compared to a dog/puppy a few times, dirty talk, jake gets desperate enough mid-way though and does fuck her really good, unprotected sex, cream pie, lots and lots and lots of cum.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Six times the man known as Jake Sim rendered you sore the next morning using nothing but pixel words on your phone screen. Six times over the span of two weeks. 

You met him at a party, and he was both the first and the last man you spoke to that night. You should have caught on back then why he didn’t bring you home with him and only offered you his number with a wink and a shit-eating grin. 

Now, as you see him in front of you again, this time in your apartment, you can see exactly why he didn’t bring you home. His facade would have been broken and you never would have been able to see the dirty little texts he’s able to send when he doesn’t have you looking him in the eye.

“Didn’t you say you were going to have me against every surface in my apartment the second you get here?” You question, twenty minutes into him being over and not once making a move on you. 

He looks much more awkward compared to the tipsy man you originally met, still his dyed blond hair looks just as messy though. His fashion is still on par with the attitude you’d seen him throw at you too but,  this version of him is throwing you for a loop. His lack of response leads you to believe that he must have lost interest in the span of time he’s been over.

“It’s not like I don’t want to,” Jake finally responds, brushing his fingers through his hair as he sits stiffly next to you on your bed, fully clothed. “Usually I don’t actually come see the girls I text.”

You shuffle next to him, turning with an eyebrow raised at him. 

“So you’re not going to, then?” 

Jake looks at you dumbfounded, shaking his head as if to pity himself before nodding quickly.

“I’d like to,” he argues, fiddling with his hands and avoiding your eyes now. “I just, um…”

You wait, allowing the silence to take hold of the room. 

“I’m a little more uh–” He fidgets and fumbles his words again. “Listen, I don’t want to disappoint you if I don’t live up to how we normally talk.”

“What do you mean by that?” You ask, feeling duped by the man sitting there. 

“I’m actually kind of like–” He lets out a deep sigh before turning toward you with honest eyes. “You’re making me shy, okay?” 

You breathe in, shocked because based on the strings upon strings of sentences he’s thrown your way via text, the last thing you’d ever consider Jake is fucking shy. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

He was right in telling you he was shy, and by now you appreciate the warning from him. It took a few minutes to get yourself back into the mood, but it happened nonetheless when he finally buckled under your gaze and kissed you.

If there was anything Jake did that he promised, it was kissing you in a way you never knew you needed. He was good at it too, so good that you nearly forgot he was supposed to have already fucked you on every surface the two of you passed to get to the very room you’re in right now. 

Kind of strange actually, that he seems so different compared to his fantasies with girls he never thinks he will actually see again. So cocky in his text messages, saying he will ruin you, asking if you’d choke on his dick, saying he would love to see you struggle under him. Now though, that very man is struggling to keep his hands to himself despite admitting that he’s shy.

You chuckle into the kiss, feeling his hands reach for you with the sound of rustling clothing against your duvet. You let him chase as you slide lower, lower, lower, until your head is against your pillow and he’s practically hovering over you to keep kissing.

This is what you wanted. Jake over you, dominating a kiss and roaming his hands up and down your body. 

“Shy?” You question between kisses, trailing your hand down to meet where his was, snaking under your shirt. “You seem to know exactly what you want.”

Jake’s eyes are empty as he looks at you, the cold feeling of his fingertips do not stop though. He continues to trail them upward until they meet the flesh of your chest, where you skipped the bra because you expected it to be a nuisance if anything tonight. 

You’re shocked by his slight groan at the feeling of your already erect nipples. His groan seemed like it came out of relief, your body showing signs of being turned on despite his reluctance that was never promised to you. 

“If you were like this over text, I still would have liked you, you know.”  You admit to him with a sigh as he trails his lips down to your jaw, and you reach for his waist to pull him further on top of you. “You’re cute still, even if you’re not about to make me cry like you said you would.”

His cock twitches at that, wishing so much that he could live up to those dirty thoughts in his head and just fucking do it. But he can’t, because his body doesn’t work like that. If he were to do all of those things to you right now, he would surely come within the span of fifteen seconds and make this the worst fuck of your life. He’s too desperate to have control, and far too timid to even pull his cock out right now. 

“It’s embarrassing,” he whispers against your earlobe, trailing kisses there too until he gets to the collar of your shirt. “I want to do those things to you, but I don’t think I’d be able to last if–”

He’s cut off by you shoving him up and pulling your shirt off in one go, trying to get to business much quicker now that he appears to at least be turned on. (Wrong, he’s been turned on since before he even got here.)

Jake trails off his sentence, forgetting what he was even going to say as the flesh of your breast sits comfortably in one of his hands and the other springs free. His cock twitches again as he stares, practically burning a hole through you as he looks, mouth slowly opening in a sigh at the image.

You see him malfunction and wonder if maybe, maybe, this could be even better than what you originally were expecting. Such a rough looking man with messy hair and even rougher fingers acting like this at the mere sight of some titties? Sign you the fuck up.

“God, look at you.” You groan with a smile, chuckling at the way he appears to blush. “You talk such big game but…”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jake shakes it off, releasing his hand from your chest and now removing his own shirt and revealing a nice, toned body for you to look at. “It’s not my fault you make me act this way.”

“Oh? Just me, or?”

Jake nods, then shakes his head. 

“Not entirely, I’m just better at fucking over text.” He explains, now settling one leg between yours and dipping his head down to your chest, nuzzling against one of your tits and grabbing the other. “Doesn’t change the fact that I still want to fuck you right now though.”

You feel those words run through you, his soft voice coming out raspy and needy when he says it. 

“You’re a weird one,” You laugh, gripping his hair and bucking your hips up to straddle his thigh. “and I still want you fuck me, even if it’s not the way you said you would.” 

He licks against your chest now, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth as he focuses on the feeling of you riding against his thigh. He’s thankful you still act desperate, at least you weren’t lying when you talked to him through texts.

“I’ll still make you feel good.” He whispers in a slight plea against your nipple, moving his head to the other and suckling against that one next. “Just let me try.”

God, you didn’t expect those four little words to hit you the way they do. A man asking you to let him try? Jake Sim at that? Sure, by now it should be expected but this is a different kind of heat flowing through you. Never have you been given control, and never have you felt the need to ride a man’s thigh like this. 

“Jake,” You start, a little out of breath as you move your hips against him to the point that clothing becomes far more annoying than not. “Can we please take our clothes off before anything else?”

He pauses against your nipple, nodding before suckling again and then finally pulling away.

“You first.” He says, not yet wanting to pull his thigh from the way you move against it. 

You look up at him, his lips glistening from his own saliva coating your chest.

“Why? Are you lying about your massive cock too?”

Jake looks down at the bulge between his legs and then back at you. Your eyes followed him to his cock, and they remained there.

“Oh.” You smile, now having the ability to pull yourself from his thigh and pull your shorts off at record speed. “Show me.”

Jake lets out a breathy and nervous chuckle, his ears flashing a darker shade of red than before as he nods to you in a timid way. You watch his hands go for the button and zipper, and you watch them further as they lower his pants to his knees before he kicks them away behind him. Now, all that’s left is looking at the already dampened spot on his briefs and the huge length stuffed beneath, clearly needing some relief. 

He still looks away from you, not yet moving to take off his briefs until you feel his hands pull at your panties. 

“Can I see now too?” He asks, already pulling them to the side and catching a glimpse of your folds. He shudders visibly at it before letting your panties snap back into place and all you can do is stare, still, between his legs.

“Take them off.” You deadpan.

He’s unsure if you’re implying he take his off, or yours, so he shoots for what he would prefer, gripping your panties and rolling them off of you. 

“Take. them. off.” You say, ignoring the fact that you’re entirely vulnerable before him, yet feel safe and comfortable because of how timid yet eager he appears to be. 

He fumbles to follow your direction, quickly kicking off his briefs and positioning himself between your legs again, sitting on his knees. 

Your eyes don’t leave his exposed cock. Thick and heavy. He truly wasn’t lying about that at least, and you can imagine that regardless of how shy he is, he definitely could make good on his word with a cock like that.

“Oh, fuck.” You comment, lifting on your elbows and sitting up. Your face is now mere inches from his, but your eyes continue to stare down. 

He puts a hand over himself shyly, wondering if maybe you’re not impressed, maybe he’s a complete fraud. 

“Are you disappointed?” He asks, leaning a bit back and away from you.

“Disappointed?” You laugh, looking back up at him and instantly grabbing his face, staring directly into his eyes. “Jake, you’re bigger than what you described it as.”

He smiles a bit, feeling all fuzzy and warm inside as you look at him. His confidence bubbles up, giving him every ability in the world at this moment, and what does he do with it? He looks between the two of you as he drops his cock and watches it land between your legs, and then he looks back at you before dipping in for a much less timid kiss.

Feeling his cock rest between your legs is one thing, but feeling how his tongue kisses into your mouth at a more eager pace than before is an entirely different thing. You’re loving it, despite the turn of events with him. 

“Not so shy now, hm?” You laugh, tilting your head before dipping back in to kiss him only to be met with a sigh of chuckles from him. 

“If you keep complimenting me, maybe someday I can live up to all those promises,” He says, putting a hand at the nape of your neck and laying you back down. “Then again, I don’t expect to last nearly as long with how wet you seem to have gotten.”

You hum against his words, hands reaching between your body and his to grab his length and hold it, just to feel the weight, just to see how much of it you can fit into one hand…just to see if–

He groans at the first touch, his body shivering against yours as he trails his lips down again, landing against your neck with a small pant when his hips buck into your palm. 

“I can’t believe that this whole time, this is how you react to having your dick touched.”

He says nothing and instead, continues to fall into the feeling of the short tugs against his cock, barely stimulating his entire length but still feeling like it’s enough to keep him pleased for the time being. 

“Wanna, maybe, I don’t know–” You playfully start, tugging his cock a bit harder this time after collecting some of the pre-cum from the head, “Touch me too?”

Say no more, Jake’s fingers are instantly at your entrance as soon as you say it, sliding in so easily that it nearly makes you forget that you even told him to do it. His fingers are slender, and each joint on the digits are felt against your aching and gripping walls. 

“I can’t believe how wet you are,” he coos, bottoming his two fingers out before gently beginning to thrust them in. “Were you like this when we texted too?”

“Wetter.” You lie, mostly because you were extremely wet from his texts but this…this is entirely different. You’re far more wet. 

“Oh?” Jake asks, looking slightly disappointed but you can feel the way he changes how he moves his fingers. He also stops rutting against your hand, as if to put all of his focus on making you as wet as possible. 

You moan for him at the feeling, his fingers tickling a spot inside of you that always has you seeing stars. Part of you wonders if he even knows he’s doing it, but you don’t press him, instead, you reward him with a tighter grip, pumping his cock until you can feel more beads of pre-cum slathering your fingertips. 

“You need to be more confident, fuck–” You call out in a half moan, unprepared for the Jake that showed up but completely prepared to praise the hell out of what he’s doing. “This alone could have anyone on their knees.”

He smiles, furrowing his brow as he looks up at you, fingers picking up pace and starting to scissor you open. 

“Can I taste you?” He asks out of fucking nowhere, and god. 

“Jesus, Yes.” You groan, feeling him pound his fingers into you three more times before sliding out and pulling away from you. 

You close your eyes, anticipating what it must be like to have him eat your pussy, and fuck, he wasn’t lying about that either. You remember that text from him, when he said “i’ll lick up every inch of your pussy babe, you wouldn’t even have to ask.”

The fact that you didn’t ask him to do it. The fact that he’s down there right now, already spreading you open on his tongue and licking every sensitive dip and corner he can reach. You’re just more and more pleased with this shy man that showed up on your doorstep. 

His tongue is warm and firm no matter where he licks, and only softens up when he goes to lick a flat stripe up your slit, essentially sucking up all of the wet you’re offering him and savoring it through whimpered groans at the way your legs attempt to squeeze around his head.

He knew you’d taste good but this is on a whole other level. He can’t help it when he grips your thighs and spreads your legs out further, and he certainly can’t help himself when he prods his tongue into you, trying to taste more of what you have to offer. 

You can feel his tongue dipping in, and the way he grips your thighs renders you nearly useless if you were to try and wiggle away, not that you’d ever want to but it almost tickles with how good it feels. Your legs begin to shake in his grasp, and he only spreads them further at that, tilting his head at an angle to lick into you even deeper.

“Holy shit,” You sigh out, reaching down frantically to hold his head in place so that you can grind your hips forward against his stiffened tongue. 

He’s nearly going insane the moment you do that, riding his tongue and gripping his hair so harshly. If he could die like this, it would only be a dream. 

Jake hums into you with his lips curling up at each drag of your hips, each taste of your walls, up until you’re grinding so aggressively that his tongue is back to hitting your clit for a split second before dipping in. He lets you do it, loving the way you use his face like a toy but, he’s starting to feel desperate for you. 

In this position with his arms hugging your thighs and back arched as he dips down to lick you, his cock is fucking aching and all he can do is fuck forward. There is nothing for him to pleasure himself with, but this suffices for him as the act of humping forward alone is enough to satiate his intense need to fuck something right now. 

Like a dog, humping just to release his intense arousal as he holds onto you. He should be embarrassed, but he knows you can’t see him do it. Especially when he flicks his eyes up and sees your tits jiggling with each move of your hips. Especially when you open your own eyes and they land only on his face. He’d like to think he’s doing a hell of a job right now, especially with how no matter how much he licks, you continue to drip for him. 

As you continue to ride yourself against his face, you suddenly feel his fingers squeezing against your thighs and his head abandon where you guide him. Wanting to taste you still, he neglects your riding hips and plants his lips at your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue until your grip in his hair grows more and more painful and you pull him back to look at him.

His eyes are dazed and his lips are glistening in a swollen and cheeky little smile. He stares back at you, licking his puffy bottom lip before letting his eyes roll at the feeling of that grip you have in your hair.

“Fuck, you’re loving this aren’t you?” You ask, now trailing your eyes down to his body and noting the way he’s desperately chasing nothing with his cock. You know he wants it, and god, are you going to let him have it. 

He grins when you ask him, and he nods proudly at how your arousal coats his mouth and chin. He can smell the entirety of you on his face and it truly does feel amazing to him. Like he’s spiraling into a world of bliss simply for getting to lick your pussy. 

You can barely contain yourself as you watch him. It’s like you’ve lost him completely from reality with the way he’s smiling, and the way his eyes remain drowsy and hooded. You could argue that the man acts cross-faded, but the fact that he acts like this over your pussy? 

“I bet if I asked you to fuck me right now, you’d beg like a little puppy, wouldn’t you?” 

His groan is long and drawn out with his slow nod, his hips fucking forward instinctively when his eyes trail down and sees that your pussy is practically pulsing. 

“Do you want me to beg?” He says in a shaky voice, his chest heaving as his grip on your thighs grow tighter and you drag him back up to your face. 

There, the two of you look at each other for a brief moment before you feel him fuck forward again, sliding his cock against your drenched core and letting out another pained whimper.

“You’re so wet, please.” He cries against your lips as he drops his face lower. 

Your arms shoot around him, feeling his back muscles tense with each intentional thrust against you. The weight of his cock is sliding consistently up and down your pussy, bumping your clit and overstimulating it to the point that all you’d need to do is tense your muscles and you’d be releasing. 

He said please, and you can argue that he’d probably do a flip if you so much as asked him to right now. As much as you wanted to choke on his dick, at this point you’d rather feel what it’s like to have him losing control inside of you. You want to know how he uses it, and you’re already well aware that he very well may make you lose grasp on reality. 

Even now, you can feel his slack lips moving up and down against your own as he continues to hump against you. You can feel his breath on your tongue when you try to see if he’s too lost to even kiss you. And that, he was.

“Go on,” You encourage him, running one hand down his arm and the other up to his hair to grip it again. There, you pull his head back, watching his neck crane and eyebrows furrow in a wince at the feeling. “Fuck me then.”

His unintentional moan comes out strained with the way you have his head pulled back, but he moves one arm to one side of your head and the other straight to his cock, where all he needs to do is press it down and hold it there. As he continues fucking against you, that small motion lets him slide in with ease. 

You can feel his arm beside your head shake at the feeling of his length spreading you open. You can see the way he swallows thickly at the feeling, moaning out and staring at your ceiling as he feels your walls slowly hug his entire length. 

He enters you slowly so that he can feel his sock squeeze your wet out of you, feeling it run down his balls. He shivers at the feeling and the sound of it, and you shiver at how deep he manages to slide in. 

It’s so deep. His thick cock aches inside of you and with the way your walls squeeze him, and even when he tightly fucks forward once again once he’s already bottomed out, he manages to fill you just just that much more. 

You groan out, releasing his hair from your shaking fingers and feeling his lips immediately kiss against your jaw and neck. 

“Fuck, fuck.” He whimpers, relieving you of an inch of him before sliding back in slowly. “Fuck, you feel so tight.” He continues, moving a hand down to your thigh and swirling his fingertips there to try and calm your shaking legs.

You can’t really comprehend anything other than the fact that this man is so fucking hot, and the way he slowly moves his hips just to feel each and every clench of your pussy has you seeing stars. You feel like he’s filled you up beyond belief, and each thrust somehow makes his cock feel heavier, bigger. 

Even as he babbles against your neck, his other hand falls to your tit and he can’t help but mindlessly play with it as he begins to actually fall into a rhythm. You’re still rendered completely speechless as you focus on every single touch he gives to you.

Those gentle, soothing circles of his fingertips on your leg, the other hand harshly pinching your nipple and sending a sharp pain down your body, his cock being driven in, somehow, deeper and deeper as he continuously manages to hit your g-spot and– god, the way his lips slowly trail down to your other tit, biting you there.

“So tight, so good.” He babbles on, slamming his cock into you once before lifting from your breast to see your reaction. 

When he looks up at you, a permanent shit-eating grin is planted on his face with the way you roll your eyes back in a silent moan. Perhaps he wasn’t so much of a liar in those texts. Seeing you react this way has his confidence skyrocketing as he continues to keep that pace. The sound of your pussy being pounded and dripping all over him. He can’t even believe how wet you are, how tight you are still.

He stays like this, staring at each reaction and silent moan as he focuses solely on fucking you as hard and deep as possible. He may not be fast, but he’s making sure you can feel every goddamn inch he has to offer, and it appears that you’re relishing in it. 

Those silent moans you try to release always end in a small hiccup each time his hips meet your inner thighs, and it’s not long before you’re losing grasp all together. You shoot your hands to his arms, gripping his biceps as your only link to reality as you feel him continuously bump the back of your pussy in an immaculate show of how well he knows how to fuck.

“Jake,” You hiccup out, gripping his biceps harder as you clench around him. 

Still, his cock drags through your attempts of speaking, and he continues to stare at you with a grin before hovering his lips over yours.

“What is it?” He whispers in a shaky breath, sucking in his bottom lip and only now picking up the pace so that he can render you speechless again. 

You can feel his lips ghosting over yours, and you really thought you had something to say but the only thing that comes out is a sobbed out moan. You throw your legs around his waist now, moving your own hips to meet his and that alone has him spiraling again.

“Yeah,” He chuckles, dipping his head to your neck and resting it there, “Fuck me,” he whimpers this time, stilling his hips to feel the way you slide him in and out of you.

Still, your strength amazes him. He thought he had control for a few minutes there and yet here he is, acting much like you are with his trembling hands and trembling thoughts. 

You continue to work your hips from under him, and you don’t even know when he stopped playing with your nipple but it doesn’t entirely matter. Not now, not when you need more of him. 

He’s thrown off when you grab his hair again, and he still loves it as much as he did the first two times you did it to him. Then, he can hear your raspy voice whisper out to him as you drag his face, once again, to yours.

“Lay back.” 

That’s all you had to say to have him immediately listening and maneuvering his body in a way that keeps his cock buried deep but still managing to throw himself back on the bed for you to take full control.

Now, he looks up at you and the way your darkened eyes devour him. He’s so fucking turned on right now that he thinks he might cry, especially with the way your knees hug his hips as you immediately start fucking yourself on him.

He’s in awe, hands reaching behind you to grab at your ass and spread it as you bounce on him. Each time you sit yourself down, it’s like you’re being impaled in the most pleasurable way possible. The way he keeps eye contact with you is intense and dangerously intimate, but you can’t bring yourself to look away either.

That smile forms back on his lips as you pick up your pace, and through that smile are moans so erotic you can feel your pussy drench him over and over again each time he does it. Never, have you had sex so fucking good in your life and it’s making you feel almost helpless as you work yourself up to an orgasm.

He still watches you though, before flicking his eyes down and taking in the image of your bouncing tits. He’s quick to remove his hands from your ass to fondle them before sitting himself up aggressively and sucking one into his mouth.

You moan out at that, stilling your bouncing as you opt now to sit with his cock entirely inside of you. You swirl your hips and plant your fingers in his hair, hugging his head as he sucks and bites a swollen spot against your chest before he holds you in an even tighter hug. 

“I’m so, so close.” He says in a broken sigh, trying to move his hips up under your weight and failing to do it.  You listen to his cries though, and resume your bouncing even through his harsh and suffocating hug. 

“Yeah?” You ask, bouncing once, swirling your hips, and then pressing your weight on him to have him falling back into his rightful spot against your bed. 

His grip around you remains, dragging you down with him as he breathes himself through the pleasure and babbles out strings of curses when you manage to still work your hips on him even though he’s gripping onto you for dear life. 

“Gonna let me feel it?” You ask again, this time more playfully as you intentionally press your clit against his pelvis each time you slide him into you. 

He nods brokenly, squeezing his eyes shut and loosening his grip on you, letting you break free and ultimately, intentionally fuck him until he’s pumping you full of everything he has to offer.

You watch as he lies there, seemingly lost again in the bliss of your pussy clenching around him. He barely notices your fingers circling your clit, and is shocked to realize that you’re releasing before him, despite how close he is.

He can feel your walls massage his aching cock as you begin to let out strained moans. He knows you’re coming the second he feels how tight you’re clenching, sucking his cock so deeply inside of you that he has no choice but to release. 

He fucks into you as best he can at this moment, only stopping when he feels the first release inside of you, and there, he tenses his muscles and allows his stiffened length to nearly tear you in half as you continue to work through your own pleasure. 

You can barely open your eyes to see his face, and the way his jaw is slack and his eyes are very nearly crossing before squeezing them shut. God, that alone could have made your orgasm last another ten seconds.

By the time you’re done, he’s still releasing somehow. The sheer amount of cum he’s spilling into you is arguably more than you’ve ever felt, and he trembles through it with whimpered apologies, begging you to stay on him, apologizing with a small “ fuck, wait, I’m still coming–”

And you do, especially through his shaking whisper of “please, take all of it.” 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

He’s back to his timid self just an hour later, lying on your bed wondering when you’re going to tell him to leave. Wondering if you like him enough to let him do this again with you, hoping you don’t erase his number. 

He’s pleased to know though that, you not only ask him to sleep over but you also make it your mission to go down on him the moment he wakes up next to you. Reminding him that even if he was different upon coming over, he still fucked you better than he ever promised. 

You’d be stupid not to choke on it for him. 

#sim jaeyun smut #jake sim smut #enhypen smut #jake smut #enhypen jake smut #sim jake smut

[hazelfoureyes]

Hello! Not sure if you're taking requests, so do ignore this if you feel like it.

I adore your work sm!! Rewatching the Stayed Gone mv, Vox had a picture of a bootleg Alastor and pointing to his microphone were the words "dildo?"

Do you think you could write an Alastor x Reader, or just Alastor pleasuring himself with the microphone? (That sounds weird now-)

Thank you for taking the time to read this!

-🍺

Good Vibrations

the way I immediately knew what to do is proof of my depravity. I know it isn’t exactly what you meant but this is what I’m comfortable with writing. This was a quick little 30 minute write, I hope it still brings you joy 🎙️

After you make an offhand comment about doubting if his microphone actually works, Alastor finds a creative way to convince you while at dinner with the group.

tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x Reader, erotic but not smut?, smut is explicit, this is just horny, the microphone does in fact work, vibrator

Rarely was Alastor without his microphone. Even Vox made note of it. But, his voice sounded like it came from his mouth. Sure there was a radio affect to it, but he was a demon after all. You couldn’t figure out how it worked. Or rather, if it worked.

As you all waited to take your seats for dinner, Niffty having turned out to be a surprisingly good cook, you were caught staring.

“Is there something I can do for you?”, Alastor leaned down to meet your eyeline.

You blinked, “Oh, sorry. Just wondering if that even works.”

“If what works?”

“Your microphone.”

He knew it worked, of course. But your question felt… offensive. “Do you think I’d carry a functionless microphone around?”

Without hesitation you replied, “I do, yes.”

“Oh absolutely!” Angel pushed between you two.

“You do have a flare for the dramatic, boss.” Husk took his seat beside Angel.

Charlie nervously scratched her cheek, “I always wondered that too! But it worked in Cannibal Town, so I’m a believer now.”

“But wait-,” Vaggie looked to Charlie, “If it worked when you put it to your mouth why doesn’t he have to? It’s literally everywhere but his mouth.”

Alastor’s forced grin strained against this cheeks, black gums showing. You gave him a shrug and joined the group. He took his seat opposite you, pulling his chair in all the way.

You’d already forgotten the conversation when you felt something graze across your lap. Before you could investigate, Alastor spoke, “Why don’t we all say what we did today! I’ll go first!” Your knees shot up, knocking the table as a strong vibration lit up your crotch.

Vaggie leaned in, “You good?”

Slowly, eyes wide, you looked up to meet Alastor’s wicked smile.

“I went downtown to grab a fresh cut of venison. Niffty makes the best venison roast this side of Pentagram City.” You white knuckled the edge of the table, glancing down to see the microphone resting between your thighs. The top was nestled firmly above your mound.

“Hmmm what else? Oh! I got some deviled eggs. My, what a treat. My mother made the best deviled eggs. You know-,” as he droned on, you tried to push your chair away from the table. “Ah ah! It’s so rude to leave while someone is speaking.” He leaned back, foot reaching under the table to hook around your chair’s leg and pull you forward.

“Aww Al, you never talk so much! This is great. What else did you do today?” Charlie rested her cheek on her hand, eyes sparkling at Alastor.

“I am so glad you asked! Let me think, hmmmmm” He drew out the consonant, the sound making a rougher vibration than others. You were hunched over the table, biting your bottom lip to keep quiet. “Oh I went to— what is it called again? Ummmmm,” Your leg shot up again, the silverware clanking against your plate.

“Will you just fucking say it?!” You spit it out louder than you meant.

“Woah! That’s not very nice.” Charlie gave you a disappointed look, pulling a groan from you, “What’s gotten into you?”

Angel looked over to you, “You doin’ alright? You’re like… sweatin’.”

“What indeed, Charlie. Well, anyway! I think I’ve made my point!” You felt the weight of the microphone slide down your thighs and past your knees. You took in a deep breath, finally able to relax your body.

“You’re pretty pale…”, Husk commented, “You sick or something?”

Angel pushed your hair from your forehead, “That face looks so familiar.”

Before you could answer, Alastor opened his mouth, “I think she should lie down. Allow me to escort you to bed, my dear.”

“You are so sweet today! I love it! Fuck yeah!” Charlie punched the air. Alastor came behind you and pulled your chair back for you. “Take your time, if she’s sick maybe she shouldn’t be alone.”

“If you say so!” Alastor practically sang the words. With both hands on your shoulders, he guided you out of the room.

“He’s the best.” Charlie beamed, “Alright whose next?”

༻Masterlist༺

#Me #I’m next #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #fanfiction #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #the radio demon #radio demon #alastor the radio demon #hazbin alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x you

[amathslutsguidetofandom]

Bucky is supposed to be training for an upcoming mission, but you decide to go to the Avengers Compound to distract him and he has a different mission on his mind🥵🤤❤️‍🔥

Not Until I Say So

PAIRINGS: James "Bucky" Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader

WARNINGS: Degrading (Calling reader a 'slut'), spanking, roughhousing, edging, p in v, unprotected sex (my dears, please wrap your man's sausage before you go riding), Oral sex (f receiving), squirting. (If I've missed anything, please feel free to let me know 😊)

WORD COUNT: 1,277

*not proof-read*

ENJOY!

You can hear the grunts before you can see the man creating them.

The compound isn’t as busy than usual; you think it’s because of the week-long Easter break Tony put into action.

But that isn’t your worry now; your main focus is to visit your man.

Pushing open the doors of the gym, you see Bucky bench pressing at least 450 pounds. You don’t want to interrupt him, so you sit patiently on the bench next to him and the machine. When he does finish, he lets out a huff, and it makes your knees go a little weak.

“Hey, babe,” you smile sweetly and walk over to him.

He turns at the sound of your voice, and the frown on his face vanishes, replaced by an upside-down smile. “Doll,” he smiles, but then makes a motion for you to not hug him, “I’m all drenched in sweat, sugar. After a shower, yeah?”

You slightly pout, “I don’t mind the sweat.” Bucky chuckles and raises a brow at you, “yeah?”

You nod and smooth out the crinkles of your skirt.

The skirt you purposefully picked to wear today.

You were, according to Bucky’s words, a ‘good girl’.

You wanted to do something that was so out of the ordinary that it would make Bucky go speechless.

Little did he know, you were going commando.

“Oh, I brought you a lil’ something,” you turn and face your back to him. Smirking, you bend over as slowly as you can and reach for your purse.

You look through it and pretend as if you can’t find the object you had in mind, “I swear it was right here.” Your heart beats faster when you hear Bucky let out a low growl.

“What do we have here, doll,” you can feel him walk behind you. Before you can get a word in or even move, Bucky’s hands are on your hips, locking you in place.

You gasp as you feel his hips make contact with your bare ass.

You slightly shudder at the feeling of his hard-on grinding against your slit.

“Bucky,” you whisper.

You boyfriend chuckles, “what is it, doll?” He caresses the back of your thighs, “You’re the one who came in here, bringing in this surprise with you.”

You nod, unable to speak as you feel your cunt grow wetter with his grinding.

“Is this what my good girl does, sugar?” He tut’s his tongue and completely lets go of you. You stand straighter in confusion and turn back to face him.

You’re met with his smirk and hungry stare. “Showers. Two minutes,” is all he says to you before turning and heading in that direction.

------- It’s been five minutes.

You’re really pushing it.

You push open the door to the showers, and your immediately being pushed up against the door.

“Lemme show you how bad you been today, princess,” he whispers against your ear, before turning you around and shoving you up the door. “First, no underwear and then making me wait. Oh, you’ve been bad,” he drops an octave when he says the finishing word.

“Sweater. Off. Now,” he growls, still fully clothed. You quickly take off your sweater and toss it somewhere before you place your palms flat on the door and shimmy your ass out to him.

“Fuck me, doll,” he growls and grabs your hips, then he flips up your skirt. “Such a lil’ slut, just begging to be fucked,” he drags his clothed, hard, cock up and down your opening.

You moan at the feeling of him nearly protruding your entrance, you reach for the hem of your skirt, wanting to take it off.

But Bucky slaps your arm away. “Oh no, princess. Skirt stays on,” he smacks your ass playfully before grabbing a handful and jiggling it hard.

You whine at the feeling, your pussy growing needier and needier as seconds go by.

“Bucky, baby, please. I need you,” you whisper, cheek flush against the wooden door.

Bucky chuckles at your neediness, before getting on his knees.

You hear his knees hit the tiled floor, and your eyes light up in anticipation.

“Spread ‘em wider for me, princess,” Bucky whispers against your ass. You shift your ankles so you’re bent and spread wider for him.

You don’t see it, but Bucky looks at you like you’re a three-course meal. His hungry stare would burn you if it could.

Bucky smacks and grabs your ass before shoving his face between your thighs and licking a thick stripe up your slit.

You jaw drops and your mouth forms an ‘O’ shape as you moan loudly as the feeling of his thick tongue. Soon he swirls his tongue over your little button, making your legs quake at the sensation.

You hear his lewd licks, and moan softly as you feel the vibrations of his groans through your cunt. “God, Bucky don’t stop please,” you whine and push your ass back, pressing it further onto his face.

Bucky starts kitten licking at your entrance, you voice grows higher and higher. “Fuck, Buck! I’m going to come,” you squeeze your eyes shut as you feel your orgasm start to approach. And just as it was about to wash over you, Bucky pulls away.

He spits at your cunt and wipes it all over with his finger. “Oh no, doll. You’re coming on my cock, not on my tongue. That is, if I let you,” he says lowly before standing back up.

“Gotta teach my doll on how to behave, since she’s not really good at following instructions. Isn’t that right, slut?” You shouldn’t be turned on by the way he degrades you, but you really can’t help the way you moan loudly at his words.

Bucky unbuttons and unzips his trousers before shoving them down to his thighs. “Oh you like that, don’t you? You like it when I call you a slut, huh?” Bucky lines himself with your entrance, and just slams in.

You wail, and hit the door with your fist. Your pain is mixed with pleasure, and you swear to the heavens it’s the best feeling you ever felt, “Jesus, Bucky. Yes!” Bucky starts thrusting into you like an animal, whispering dirty things into your ear.

Which each sentence, your closer and closer to your high. “Fuck! Gripping me like a vice, doll,” he brings his hand down on your ass, a red welt marking its place. You whine at the sensation the burn mixing in well with your euphoria.

Suddenly Bucky stops, and you think you just might cry. “No. Bucky, please. I-,” you beg, you need the release. Bucky chuckles and shakes his head, “like I said, doll. You don’t come, until I say so.”

He keeps his word.

You think he edges you for hours, you beg and beg until your voice is horse from all the moaning and whining.

Soon, you're flush with how pent-up you are.

And finally, Bucky tells you to let go.

“Go ahead, princess. Come f’me,” he growls against the nape of your neck.

And you let the orgasm wash over you so hard, you make a mess everywhere.

On Bucky’s clothes, on your skirt, even the floor.

You’re high takes you so far, that you start seeing black.

But before you can go, Bucky’s already holding on to you.

“Right here, doll. M’right here,” he helps you sit on a nearby bench, and helps you clean yourself up.

Bucky comes to stand in front of you and crouches to your level, he places a gentle kiss on your lips before looking you back in the eye.

“Learnt your lesson, doll?”

💌💌💌

@sergeantbarnessdoll , here it is my love!!!

This is very sloppily written, lol😅😅😅

Lemme know what you lovelies think!!!

Till' then

Stay Coquette-y,

Anya 🫶🏽🕊️🎀

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader smut #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky x you #the winter soldier #james bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes and reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fandom #bucky barnes fic

[loveinhawkins]

Steve doesn’t notice the answering machine for several weeks.

His time is split between the hospital and donating food and clothes; and when he’s not doing that, he’s helping put up missing posters for people’s loved ones.

It’s only when both Max and Eddie are discharged that he has a moment to even catch his breath—when, half-dozing on his feet, waiting for a microwave ready meal to heat up, he notices the blinking red light in the hallway.

He feels like he’s still in a dream when he presses ‘play’, hears his mother’s voice. There’s people talking in the background, the echoing, constant chatter of a hotel lobby. She’s laughing at something someone must have said before the answering machine kicked in.

She sounds… happy.

“Steve? Steve?” The rustle of the receiver getting briefly pressed to her blouse, a muffled, “Just a minute, hon, he might still pick up.” Then, clearer: “No, you must be out. All right, Steve, it was just to let you know that we’ll be home a little sooner than we—yes, I’m telling him, what do you think I’m doing?”

Steve’s thoroughly grateful that he’s listening to a message, and no response is required—can only stand there, jaw slack, at just how light his mother’s voice is.

“A couple of work things fell through,” she continues with a breeziness that probably means several major ‘things’ went disastrously wrong, work related or otherwise. But it doesn’t sound like she cares all that much; if anything, she sounds excited.

“So I thought we could—well, I don’t know how late we’ll be, but if you’re not too hungry, we could just order some pizza, lazy dinner? Plain cheese for you, right?” The distant ring of a bell on a counter. “Steve, darling, I know we haven’t been—” She cuts herself off with a sigh that’s gone too quickly for Steve to parse.

He hasn’t ordered a plain cheese pizza since he was 12 years old. But she’s trying, he thinks. She’s trying.

“Oh, we’re just checking out. What? No, I thought you had that bag. Oh, well, just—sorry, Steve, see you tonight. Love y—”

The message ends.

In a daze, Steve replays it once, twice—it’s on the third re-listen that he hears the mechanical voice intone what date the message was left.

See you tonight.

He inhales sharply just as the microwave beeps, and then he’s out the door, leaving the food to congeal.

-

He knows the route they would have taken. Plays it backwards in his head as he drives. Can see them in his mind’s eye taking the exit that leads into Hawkins—his mom berating his dad for not using his turn signal.

He finds the road. Stops. Gets out and presses his hand to the tarmac. He can feel it under his palm, like a scar.

The gates spread, at the end.

There’s no proof, nothing he can point to and say there, that’s what happened to them. Not a trace.

But he knows.

He knows.

-

“Okay, what’s up?” Eddie asks him three days later.

It’s almost funny, how little things have changed. Steve keeps waiting for a knock at the door, a just kidding! There’s no harried phone calls from their work, so they must have taken extended leave or—he doesn’t know.

He’s never going to know.

“Nothing,” Steve shrugs. “Just thinking if the kids want popcorn now or later.”

Eddie’s suspicion melts away with a snort; it’s too easy. “Stupid question—the answer is always now.”

“Yeah, yeah. Second cupboard on your left, Munson, knock yourself out.”

“What am I, the maid?” But Eddie’s already reaching for the popcorn, opening the microwave door with a clunk, and then there’s an abrupt silence.

Steve realises why a second too late. “Shit, I—sorry, lemme just—”

He picks up the plastic tray full of mouldy pasta and throws it in the trash—feels a prickle of shame as he does so.

It’s stupid that this is the thing that makes his breathing catch. So fucking—senseless.

“Steve,” Eddie says haltingly, like he somehow knows this isn’t just about being absent-minded.

“Don’t,” Steve says.

He knows that’s practically a signed confession already. But Eddie nods and even cleans the damn microwave without a word of complaint. Because the popcorn still needs to be done, and the kids are waiting, and they’re pretending, Steve thinks.

They’re all just pretending.

-

He loses himself in washing up, makes the water run hot and doesn’t wear gloves, lets his skin scald. They’d all ordered pizza, and Steve had hidden every slice he’d taken, torn them all up and stuffed them into a napkin.

He stops when he comes to a large plate with a floral trim.

Would she have picked this one? he wonders. The pizza would’ve looked pretty, served up on that.

And then, as quickly as that thought came, another takes its place. How dare she? How dare she think that a fucking lazy dinner would fix everything? Did she think he’d just forgive her, forgive them both, just like that?

But she never got the chance. He’ll never get the chance to—

A sharp, stabbing pain. Steve turns off the faucet automatically, sees that the plate has smashed in the sink. A shard of china in his palm.

Eddie’s voice echoes in the hallway. “Um, I called Wheeler? Uh, Nancy. She—she took them all home.”

“Cool,” Steve says, voice tight.

He knows that Eddie has entered the kitchen when he hears a shocked hiss. “Dude, what the fuck? You’re bleeding, wait there, just—”

It’s not a deep cut, Steve thinks numbly. He doesn’t know why Eddie is worried. But he lets him fuss, lets him gently pry the remnants of the plate away, lets him wrap a bandage tightly.

“Hey,” Eddie says. His voice is soft. “Whatever it is, we’ll fix it, ‘kay?”

Steve can’t look at him. Clenches his jaw.

“We will, you hear me, Harrington? I promise.”

Steve shakes his head. “Can’t fix—” he gets out before his throat closes up, and when he glances back, Eddie’s eyes are wide and fearful.

“What?” he says sharply, and he looks almost nauseous, like he suspects he’s about to be told that the monsters are back, that they have never even left. “What the fuck do you mean? You’ve got to tell me, man, just—”

Steve makes an anguished noise that feels like it comes from somewhere in his chest, and Eddie freezes. He considers Steve for a long moment.

“Okay,” he says, a wary placation. “Can you… um. Can you show me instead?”

Steve blinks. He flexes his hand, uncaring of the cut, and jerks his head to the hallway.

Eddie stares. Frowns. Then leaves.

He figures it out, of course he does. Steve just stands there, hears the click of the answering machine. He closes his eyes.

This is all that’s left; these are his scraps. A sigh he’ll never understand. An aborted, “I love you.” It had never come easily to her, but it had left her freely then.

Why?

A hand on his shoulder. Steve opens his eyes.

Eddie looks stricken. “Steve,” he whispers, then stops like he doesn’t have the words.

Steve can’t blame him. Neither does he.

“I didn’t—I didn’t know,” Eddie says. “Steve, I didn’t—”

“They were coming home,” Steve says stupidly, feels a bit like he’s twelve years old. “They were—Eddie. They were gonna come home.”

“Oh,” Eddie says, and it leaves him all in one breath. “Oh, Steve. C’mere.”

Steve falls against him, muffles something that’s half a cry, half a scream against his shoulder—and mourns the loss of a conversation he will never have.

#steve and his parents #steve harrington fic #steve harrington #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve harrington’s parents #steve and his mom #steve harrington’s mom #steddie

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR TWENTY FOUR

in which you and eddie win the bet.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

��� warnings: strong language, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 7k+

→ a/n: oh, holy fuck. holy fucking shit. i have no words, because i know it's not really over yet (we still have an epilogue, friends! don't forget that!) but... i did it. i finished another fic. that's just... insane?

thank you to everyone who has been so very kind and supportive of this fic. i owe you all the world. i'm sure i'll either make a sappy post between now and thursday, or i'll get extra sappy in the a/n on the epilogue, but for now - please know you have all my love. <3

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

24:00 ─────────────── ㅇ 24:00

DINGUS: hey, i facetimed them for last hour’s proof. had to work out when they wanted me to head over and pick her up. 

BIRDIE: both still alive? both still well? 

DINGUS: so it seemed. 

ARGYLE  😎: what a relief! I knew they had it in them

JOHNNY BOY: They still have to last one more hour. 

NANCE: They’ll last the hour. Have a little faith, babe. 

JOHNNY BOY: Still don’t like the fact we’ve just started calling them instead of requesting the photo proof. I mean, how do we not know they’re lying? Did you talk to both of them when YOU called, Nance? 

NANCE: Yes, I told you guys that.

NANCE: Besides, you guys already know that Eddie hates having his picture taken. We’re lucky we ever got picture proof to begin with.

DINGUS: also i JUST facetimed them??? physically saw them?? your lack of trust in me and nance kind of hurts jon

BIRDIE: @NANCE hey can you call ME babe next? 

HOUR TWENTY FOUR – 4:00 PM

“Hey there, love birds. Glad to see you didn’t kill each other.”

Steve. 

You wait for Eddie’s arm to leave you, for him to put space between the two of you, but he doesn’t. He keeps you pressed flush to his side as if the sudden arrival of a friend doesn’t make the slightest bit of difference. 

“Hey, Harrington,” he even casually greets first. 

He’s making no move to get up off the floor. 

Just a little bit longer. Let me sit here and live in this moment a little bit longer.

“Munson,” Steve nods to Eddie before setting his sights on you, “Doll. Nice to see you, kind of glad I’m not having to fish you out of the canals.” 

You feel it — Eddie’s arm tenses behind you ever so slightly at Steve’s nickname. Clearly, it’s still a sore spot for him to work through. 

“I was feeling generous,” Eddie shrugs as if he hadn’t just revealed a flash of jealousy to you. You’re not even sure if he knows that you felt it. But it was there, in the slightest tightening of his grip and the flexing of his bicep behind your shoulder.

“Generous? I think you were feeling friendly,” Steve waves his hand between the two of you, as if he thought he was pointing out the obvious. 

If he thought this was close, he’d faint at the imagery of you on the kitchen counter, Eddie’s face between your legs as he begged for you to let him touch you. 

Just as you had noticed Eddie’s jealousy, he notices the way you suddenly heat up, shifting in your seat ever so slightly. That pull on the corner of his lips tells you all you need to know. You kind of hate how easily the two of you can finally read each other. You kind of love the way he’s looking at you as if he’s thinking the exact same thing. 

“Do I get my free punch now?” you finally speak up, tone flat as you muster a glare in Steve’s direction. You’re forgoing all polite and pretend oblivion. 

Every single one of you here knows what happened. The bare bones of it, at least.

Eddie looks at you curiously, “Excuse me?” 

Steve only grins, holding out his arms as if welcoming you, “Take your best shot.” 

You stand quickly, and Steve even flinches. He clearly had thought it was all a bit, but you were deathly serious. After the night you’d had, you wanted to punch something, anything. 

“Hold on,” Eddie fumbles to follow you as you stand in front of Steve, your eyebrow cocked as you pause, “Hold on, why are you punching Harrington?” 

“Oh, I don’t know. ‘She’d never go for me, why would she go for you?’” you remind him, and fully expect for hurt to flash across his face. Instead, merriment continues to tug on his lips, “That ring a bell?”

“It might,” Eddie drawls, slowing down his movement to stand more casually, no longer in a rush to break up the fight. His eyes flash with something, with some sort of affection as your hand curls into a fist threateningly and you continue to glare daggers at Steve, “‘S cute to see you defending my honor, sweetheart.” 

Your knees almost physically wobble. The nickname that once struck such anger and irritation in you has become your favorite thing, something that can so easily elicit such a physical reaction. Any taunting has dissipated from his tone when he falls from his tongue now. Adoration takes its place.

Steve looks between you two for a second before his face twists up, “God, I think I liked it better when you two hated each other.” 

“Never really hated each other,” Eddie corrects Steve, but his eyes never leave yours. 

“Right, must have slipped my mind.”

One of the questions that had been torturing you has now been answered — Eddie would, in fact, be acting differently around your friends. It’s almost enough that you feel no need to punch Steve.

Almost.

“Where do you want it?” you tear your gaze from Eddie, looking back to Steve now expectantly, “Cheek? Nose? Chin? Jaw?”

Steve’s eyes widen. “My God, have you just been dreaming of this moment for the last hour?”

“I have.” 

Eddie leans back against the wall, still watching and still smirking as he crosses his arms. 

“I know Eddie’s your boyfriend now but-“

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you correct him quickly, but something inside of you twists at saying that.

He wasn’t your boyfriend. You two had just agreed you’d need time apart before even thinking of exploring what this new chapter will bring you two. So why does it feel so wrong? Why do you suddenly feel like a pathetic teenager, desperate to bestow some cheesy title upon her crush? 

Eddie nods when you suddenly look at him, as if he can read your mind, “I’m not her boyfriend. Just… her scary dog.”

Scary dog privilege. And God, does that moment feel light years in the past now. Years ago rather than hours ago. His promise to protect you suddenly rings truer now. If you ever did find yourself in trouble, you knew he’d answer your call. You knew now why his protection only extended to you. You finally, finally understood.

“Scary dog?” Steve squints at Eddie, and his judgmental demeanor has fully returned, “What the fuck does that even mea-“

He doesn’t get to finish the sardonic sentiment. The slap of your palm interrupts him.

“Ow!” he yelps out, head snapping from the force of the hit and hands already coming up defensively. 

Eddie pushes off the wall the moment Steve’s hands are up in the air, “Lay a hand on her in retaliation, Harrington, and I’m breaking your arm.” 

All the joking, cocky demeanor has faded. Like he had said — scary dog privilege. It applies to more than just pricks at the bar.

“I’m not,” Steve grumbles, rubbing at the red imprint now singing his cheek, “Jesus Christ, I said a punch.” 

You fight a smile, “I don’t know how to throw a punch.”

“I can teach you,” Eddie pipes up, now standing beside you, hovering in your orbit. 

“Don’t-“ Steve puts out a warning finger, “-encourage her. I only said you could punch me because I knew you couldn’t throw a punch!” he continues to cradle his face, now pouting at you, “Do you feel better now?” 

You only answer with a triumphant smile. Because your palm is stinging, and you know violence isn’t the answer, but yeah. You do feel a little bit better. 

“I don’t,” Eddie hums. He only has to take one step forward for Steve to back up, throwing out defensive eyes as he narrows his eyes, “Think I deserve to get a slap in, too, Stevie.” 

“Fuck that,” Steve spits, eyes wide with genuine fear that makes you want to giggle, “You do know how to throw a punch. If I’m letting you get a free one in, I deserve twenty four hours notice.” 

“Then consider this your notice.” 

Is this what I had always been missing out on? 

You always knew Eddie was playful with everyone, had witnessed how he joked with friends, but you’d never been included. The thought that this was the new normal makes your heart nearly burst. To be on Eddie’s side finally, to be in his good graces properly, makes you feel as if you belong more than any private movie night with Steve or impromptu dinner date with Robin. More than any night out with Nancy. More than any smoke session with Argyle, and more than any literature debate with Jonathan.

It’s as if Eddie was the missing link. You never felt you belonged, because you’d always ached for your rightful spot at his side, not just amongst the group.

The three of you stand in a makeshift circle and every single one of you smiles. Even Steve, through his slipping pout and swollen cheek, is grinning. 

Suddenly, it’s not quite as heavy as it once felt.

Everything has changed. Leaving now is not leaving forever. 

“I’d pay to see that,” you comment, taking a daring step to bump shoulders with Eddie. His eyes meet yours, his dimples come to life, and suddenly — you’re home, “Think I can get a front row seat to you beating Steve’s ass?” 

Steve starts to protest but Eddie only nods eagerly, “I think that can be arranged.” 

“I am once again reminding you two that I liked your screaming matches more than whatever this,” his hand flails, motioning to the way you two are standing closer to one another than you are him, “whole teaming-up-against-me bit is.”

“We’re not dating,” you’re reiterating as Eddie laughs out, “Stop being a crybaby.” 

You look at one another again. Another foot in the door of your newfound home, another look into your new place to rest your head. It’s as if you’re just now realizing you’ve spent the entire year missing Eddie, even as he was right there in front of you. 

“Well, God save us all when you two are finally dating,” Steve mumbles with a shake of his head.

“If-“ Eddie starts to correct, but you stop him.

It’s not an if when it comes to you two dating, you decide. It’s a when.

“I’ll send a gift basket when the day comes,” you snark. The look that Eddie sends you could heal every wound ever left behind, right then and there. 

You’re home. When Eddie throws his arm around your shoulders and Steve rolls his eyes at you two (affectionately, even if he’d deny it), you know you’re home.

—

But then, you actually do have to go home. 

You try to put it off. The three of you occupy Eddie’s living room for a while, Steve complaining about the way Robin woke him up endlessly throughout the night and how he never did finish that assignment due in his English Literature class. It reminds you that life will continue on; you have to go back to work and school, deal with daily annoyances that should seem bigger than all that’s happened with Eddie tonight, but they don’t. They all seem minuscule now, really. 

“Do we still have to send photo proof?” Eddie asks once Steve’s tirade has waned. You’re sat between the two boys, Steve’s body turned almost completely to face the two of you while you and Eddie slowly sink back into the cushions. 

You’re sure if Steve knew the activities that had taken place on this couch, he would not be sitting so comfortably. If at all.

Steve sighs at the mention of the bet, “You probably should. Jonathan’s been antsy about it the entire time. Me and Nance tried to cover for you guys, lying about calling and stuff but-“

“Why would you lie?” you inquire, uncurling a bit from your overly comfortable position to stop from falling asleep and actually participate in the conversation. 

“Because, unlike the other idiots,” Steve gives a pointed look at you and then Eddie, “We had a hunch about what was going on here. And it’s about time, by the way.” 

You think over his words for a second before you look at Eddie with sudden embarrassment, “Have you- Oh my God, have you been telling Nancy what we’ve been doing?” 

“What?” Eddie sits up straighter, looking just as panicked, “No. No, absolutely not, I-“

“What have you guys been doing?”

Both of you ignore Steve as Eddie continues on.

“-just spoke to her on the phone once or twice. But I didn’t give her any details. Have you been telling Steve what we did?” 

Steve, still being ignored, repeats himself, “What have you guys been doing?” 

“Absolutely not,” you scrunch your nose at the thought of being that honest with Steve. You loved him, truly, but not enough to tell him about those kinds of things, “I’d rather sleep in the canals than tell him.” 

“What have you guys been doing?” 

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up, and he mockingly stabs himself, “Ouch, sweetheart.”

“Not like that,” you backtrack, but more casually as the worry of Steve and Nancy knowing the truth, “I just meant-“

Eddie interrupts with a hand on your knee and a smile on his face, “I know what you meant. I’m just fucking with you. I feel the same way with Nance.” 

“Guys?” Steve grows further impatient, “I- What the fuck did you guys do? Oh my God, is it even safe to sit on this fucking couch right now?” 

“You don’t wanna know,” you say.

“No, it isn’t,” Eddie says. 

It earns him a slap on his stomach as he leans over in laughter at the way Steve launches out of his seat.

“You guys- No. No fucking way,” Steve brushes at the back of his jeans, as if they’re contaminated, “Nope. No way. You’re just fucking with me, Munson.” 

“Am I?” 

Another slap lands on Eddie’s shoulder as he laughs harder. 

“Steve,” you turn to your friend, trying to smile sweetly, “Sit back down.” 

“No.”

“You just said you don’t believe-“ 

“We should get going,” Steve insists through his blush, “You two should take your final picture and we should get going.” 

Eddie finally stops chuckling, leaning back up and against the armrest, his ankle cross in front of your shins as he stretches his legs out and sighs, “God, you should see your face right now, Harrington.” 

Steve’s scowl deepens, “It’s not funny. Take the fucking photo so we can go.” 

You make no move to dig out your phone, because you know. You know once you take this photo, you’ll be leaving, and this will all be over. Once you step foot back into that hallway, time apart begins. Learning how to navigate this new unknown with Eddie begins. It terrifies you, it saddens you, it exhausts you. You hadn’t been prepared for this part of the night.

Even before the confessions, you hadn’t given much thought to the ending of the twenty four hours. You’d assumed it would end in bloodshed and a larger than life fight, probably before the clock even ran out. You’d never assumed it could end in laughing, inside jokes between you and Eddie, in something not only bitter but also sweet. 

“Phone, sweetheart,” Eddie whispers as he leans forward and holds out his hand with the palm up, “Before we traumatize the poor guy any further.” 

“I will wait in the car, I swear to God-“ Steve starts to protest as you finally dig your phone out of your pocket. 

You’re looking down, unable to meet Eddie’s gaze in fear of him picking up on your faint sadness, as you mumble, “Get your panties out of their twist, Steve. Jesus.” 

Eddie snorts at that, right as you pass your phone over. 

Steve doesn’t comment when you willingly tell Eddie the code to unlock your phone, or the way you let him hold it rather than you. He doesn’t comment on the arm that Eddie seems to constantly keep around you now. 

He’s doing it while he can. Cherishing being able to hold you at any capacity before you leave and the distance begins. The time apart you two agreed upon won’t be for forever, but it still kills a buried part of him that had just begun to sprout roots again. A thing made of hope that he planned to tend to this time around. 

“So, how do we wanna do this?” he asks in a strained tone, as if asking that question and throttling you two closer to the finish line physically pains him.

You hope it pains him, selfishly, because it pains you. “No idea.”

“We’ve gotta make it a good one.”

“We do.” 

Eddie suddenly lights up with an idea as his thumb sweeps across your screen, opening your photos’ app and scrolling up to the first picture you two had taken at the beginning of this night. 

“Up for a trip down nostalgia road?” he teases, wiggling his brows as he holds the phone up for you to get a clearer view of the picture.

Eddie, flipping off the camera and scowling. You, hardly smiling with a pathetic thumbs up. 

“Yeah,” you breathe out, nodding slowly. 

It’s unspoken, what happens next. The camera app is opened and Eddie returns your phone to your grasp. The two of you resituate to mimic the photo as closely as possible while Steve fiddles with some of the items on Eddie’s entertainment center. 

You stretch out your arm, put your thumb up into view, blink away any tears burning the back of your eyes. Eddie’s hand has taken position as well. 

You snap the photo before you can think too hard on it. 

“Think that’ll be the winner?” Eddie curiously asks as you immediately bring the phone close to your face, swiping to view the snapshot just taken. And when you do, with the refreshed memory of that first photo, your heart physically aches. 

Almost an identical image. At a quick glance, it’s the same Eddie and the same you from the first one. But the similarities fade the moment you look closer. Eddie isn’t scowling, not genuinely – those damn dimples are even making an appearance as his eyes were squinted up in a valiant effort to fight off the smile he wears now. And your smile, your smile, is no longer half-assed. It’s something real, something full, something even a bit sad. The same face you wear when saying goodbye to an old friend and trying to hold back any tears until their train has long since left the station. You can almost physically see your vines in this photo wrapping around the two of you, clinging so desperately to avoid any separation. Time apart. You’re regretting suggesting that now. 

It’s a cute photo. A photo of two friends, if you could call yourself and Eddie that now. 

“All done?” Steve interrupts the moment, both of you and Eddie only staring at the photo. You take a peak at him out of your peripherals, and you can see it written plainly on his face – he’s feeling all the same emotions as you. Something sad, something nostalgic, something reluctant. “Not to rush the process but… I may or may not have a hot date tonight to get ready for.” 

Eddie tears his gaze from the photo, “A hot date?”

“A hot date,” Steve nods, a boyish grin gracing his lips, “And I’m picking her up in… t-minus…” he pauses, checking his watch, “Three hours.” 

“Smart move. Charm her before I rearrange your face and all.” 

Steve throws his head back in a groan, “You two won’t be letting that go any time soon, will you?” 

“Nope,” you chime in as you swipe to open up the groupchat, not offering Steve a single glance until you’ve sent off the final addition of photo proof to the rest of your friends. You consider adding some sort of sarcastic comment, some well earned bragging and a boisterous told you so, but you don’t. 

It doesn’t feel like you’ve won. Leaving this apartment, this battleground, with all the new bruises and healed wounds you’ve acquired over the span of the twenty four hours doesn’t taste like victory. Really, it tastes like… nothing. 

There’s no victory, no solid ending for you to cling to. It’s simply ending and there’s still thousands of words you have to say to Eddie. You need more time, another twenty four hours, to fill with every single thing you never told him. More casual confessions of honesty, more hours wasted in his bed, more insignificant bickering to partake in. It’s all on your tongue and desperate for attention, and yet, you know you can’t succumb to it. 

You have to go. It’s the last thing you want to do, but you have to. 

Steve checks his phone when it buzzes with the notification of your message you sent and opens his mouth, no doubt about to comment on your lack of words with the message, but you’re already standing. It’s like ripping off a bandaid. You need to get it over with, get out of this apartment before you decide you’d rather sink right into these couch cushions and decay just to ensure you never have to really leave. 

Eddie’s quick to follow. 

“Let’s go,” you say to Steve, grabbing up your bag, not looking at Eddie at the risk of losing all composure. 

Neither boy fights you, following you right up to the front door. Steve leads, opening it back up as reality slams you in the chest. As if there’s an invisible barrier here, and you know that in crossing it, you’ll be leaving a piece of yourself behind in apartment 2C. 

Leaving now is not leaving forever. 

But it sure does feel like it. 

Steve awkwardly looks over your shoulder at Eddie, some silent communication you only see his half of as he shrugs and does a timid wave, turning to leave. 

One foot hangs midair, your toes beginning to push through that barrier, when Eddie grabs you. 

“Hey,” he breathes as he wraps his fingers around your bicep, forcing you to turn to face him. You let him, your body moving to his accord but your eyes still not meeting his, “You good?” 

You take a deep breath in through your nose, “Me? Yeah. Yeah, I’m great. I’m… I’m good.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Positive?”

“Will you look at me, then?” 

Reluctantly, so very reluctantly, your eyes meet his. Big, brown doe eyes. This close to them, you can see the way they shine to match yours. You both probably look insane to Steve right now, but you don’t care. Between the sleep deprivation and all the emotions you’ve had to experience over the last day, the tears are well earned.

You almost reach out and kiss him. You almost press up onto your toes and put your lips on his, almost pour every emotion you’re feeling in the moment into a far from innocent peck. 

But you don’t.

“We did it,” you croak blandly, “We won the bet.” 

As if the Universe is screaming in agreement, you can hear a chime in the distance signifying the hour. Probably the church you recall passing in the middle of the night when the two of you had ventured off to the parking garage. It almost feels as if it’s mocking you. 

“We did it,” he echoes as his grip on your bicep loosens. You expect him to let it fall back to his side, nearly begging out loud for him to retract his touch from you so you don’t do something stupid like stay.

You swallow down thick emotions, just like molasses, “I guess I’ll see you around, yeah?” 

Time. You two needed time apart. 

“Yeah,” he sighs, as he does the one thing you had somehow hoped he wouldn’t yet yearned for ardently – the hand that had wrapped around your arm now cups your cheek, thumb stroking your skin so softly, you nearly melt in his doorway, “I’ll see you around, sweetheart.” 

It doesn’t taste like victory, yet it doesn’t taste quite like loss. It’s bittersweet. 

You still don’t kiss him. And he doesn’t kiss you, even as his touch against your cheek lingers so heavily before he pulls away. 

You cross the barrier and find you were right. You feel that piece of you tear off and flutter to the ground, and you begin to wonder when you’ll have the chance to come back and reclaim not just it, but Eddie.

—

Steve didn’t speak much on the drive back to your dorm, and you’re sort of grateful. 

If you were a good friend, you’d ask more about his date. You’d get him giddy as he spills the details about this girl and his plans for the night, chastise and tease him all in good fun. You’d be smiling and making plans for coffee tomorrow morning so he could tell you all about how the date went. 

But you’re not a good friend.

You sit in your silence the entire drive, and you pick at your nails, and you selfishly stay focused on Eddie. On all of your own qualms and all your own issues, worrying about what comes next and already feeling your chest tighten the moment you start to think about when see you around will come.

The two of you never discussed that, did you? There was no discussion of just how much time was needed apart. 

Steve shifts the car into park in the west lot, right outside your building, “Alright, stop making your cuticles bleed for two seconds and tell me what’s wrong.” 

Your hands pause exactly as he requests, caught red-handed. “Nothing’s wrong.” 

“Something’s obviously wrong. I told you to go get him – and yet, he’s still not your boyfriend.” 

“It’s complicated,” your voice finally breaks. There’s no tears this time, just confusion and desperation clawing at your throat. 

Because, was it complicated? Was it really?

The last year was what had been complicated. All the pretending and the fights and the tension. All the false beliefs and all the lies overlapping with one another. That was complicated. But this? The feelings you harbored and finally acknowledged for the boy you just left behind? 

That wasn’t really complicated. 

And Steve knows this, you can hear it in his sigh, “I think that’s the issue.” 

“What?” you turn your head towards him, scrunch your brows, even your breathing and try to shoo away the image of Eddie’s wet eyes. 

You wish you would have kissed him. 

“Look, i just think you two keep making things complicated when they should be simple-” 

You didn’t want to hear it. Childish as it might be, you do not want to have to hear this speech. Because you know Steve’s right.

“I’ll see you later, Steve.”

“Wait-”

You don’t wait. You slam the door in his face once you’ve got your footing outside of his car, truly earning your title of bad friend.

Awful. You weren’t just a bad friend, you were an awful friend. 

And yet you can’t think on it, leaving it be until you had the time to properly dwell on how you’d apologize later. All you care about now is getting inside your dorm, moping and being miserable on your own. Your strides are longer and faster than they were even when you’d backtracked to Eddie’s apartment, determined to get behind closed doors and to properly mourn all that had been gained and all that had been lost in the last twenty four hours. 

Twenty four hours ago, you were reluctant to even step foot in Eddie’s apartment. And now, it’s the only place you really want to be. 

Luck refuses to be on your side as you slam into your dorm room, sweaty and tired and just fucking emotional, only to find your roommate there. There will be no dramatic crying, no cinematic scene with your back pressed to the door as you fight back sobs, it seems. 

“You look rough,” is all she notes, sparing you a second glance before she returns to whatever she was tasking on at her desk. Her makeup, you think.

Good. Maybe she’ll be heading out, leaving you to suffer alone like you wanted. 

“Yeah,” is all you can answer her as the door clicks shut behind you. 

Rough’s a good way to put it. 

“Think you’ll be here tonight?” she asks, still distracted, “Troy and I are hanging out today – he spent the night here last night, by the way – and if you’re gone again, I was thinking about inviting him back over. Only if you’re cool with it, or already have plans, though. Our RA has this final and I didn’t even have to sneak him in last night-”

She continues on her rambles, never looking your way as you drop your bag onto your bed, and quickly lift yourself to lay right next to it. 

Normal. You were having to go back to fucking normal. Your worries were no longer revolving around Eddie or making it through the next hour, no longer preoccupied with keeping your friends up to date in order to ensure a payout of five hundred dollars – now, you just had to worry about boys named Troy and possible room checks by your RA. Finals to be taken, essays to be finished, shifts to be covered at the diner so you’d have enough cash to go out with your friends next weekend. 

You should be relieved. But it all just feels impossibly heavy. 

Your roommate catches on quickly, and when you only reply to let her know you’ll be here tonight, she stops talking. She focuses on finishing her makeup and gathering her things, hardly even offering you a goodbye as you shift to curl up more comfortably in the center of your mattress. 

You should also know better than what you decide to do next. You can’t help it, though, as you tug your phone out of your pocket and unlock it. You don’t listen to the voice inside your head that screams stop as you click on your photos’ app. Ignore the animal inside that whines as you scroll, and you click on the very first photo of you and Eddie. 

It’s painful, but you have nothing better to do in your solitude. You don’t linger on the first photo too long, still being fresh in your mind, before quickly swiping along. 

The set of matching photos you and Eddie took of one another, black and white socks covering touching toes visible in each one. You nearly laugh at the Darth Vader figurine both of you took turns holding. You nearly cry when you realize you were, in fact, smiling in your photo. A small one, a forced one, but there nonetheless. 

The selfie from the bar, your amaretto sour and Eddie’s whiskey & coke lifted towards the camera. The way both of you had tried to look annoyed, over exaggerated and furrowed brows paired with pouting lips. Your thumb swipes subconsciously over the photo for a second too long, and you’re startled when you realized it was a live photo. The moment after the photo was taken, Eddie’s eyes had moved to look at you. And in that live photo, you watched every ounce of annoyance evaporate. Leaving behind something you recognized now. Leaving behind eyes sparkling with a brief glimpse of adoration. 

There’s something else you better recognize now in the next photo. The picture you’d taken when Eddie had locked himself into his room, only opening up long enough to insist you took the photo, the one that guaranteed you your money. You had been right – there was a flood of regret on his face. You hadn’t imagined it. But you had also been wrong; he was never looking at your own rotted vines and mourning them; he was looking at his own, tethered and shredded, regretting that he had ever taken an axe to them. You don’t press down to see this live photo. You don’t want to witness that door slamming in your face again. 

The two photos taken in his bed. The one in which both your faces are scrunched from the flash, in which you can see the physical wall between you two.  And the one in the dark, where you both wear tired smiles, unaware of the night to come.

The photo on the bike, a helmet mostly covering your blushing cheeks, but not Eddie’s. 

The photo from the parking garage, meant just for you two. 

The photos from Betty’s. You don’t linger on the one of you; you do linger on the one of him. 

Each swipe only makes your heart ache more viciously, painful and sharp reminders of the night you had had. You don’t have to press down on another single photo to witness the live outplay of it – each memory is running through your mind in real time as you retrace your steps of the night. Twenty four hours, twenty four steps. With each photo, you watch yourself grow more relaxed, watch smiles come easier without your awareness and finally pinpoint all the care Eddie had been looking at you with the entire time. 

You notice the lack of photos from the last few hours. You nearly scorn yourself for it, but there had been no time. There was no time for memories frozen in time amongst all that hard honesty and those sacrilegious revelations.

Except there was one more moment in time frozen for you. You’re quick to exit the photo app finally, leaving behind that picture of Eddie with full cheeks only to open up your text messages.

Your text thread with him. Filled to the brim with bad pastry jokes and underlying need. You remember that urgent want to comfort him, to remind him he was enough. To erase all the hurt and all the old scars caused by a life from before your time with him you still hadn’t become fully privy to. 

You’re still rereading the last message, bet you wouldn’t say that to my face, when suddenly a new message appears. 

EDDIE: Make it home okay? 

Space and time. They are the last things you want, that you need from him right now. 

YOU: yep. my roommate just left. 

EDDIE: Is your dorm bed as comfortable as you remember? 

YOU: like sleeping on a cloud. 

You wish you were still in his bed. You wish you were back at the beginning, with him rather than all alone. 

EDDIE: Oh shit, you’re trying to sleep? Sorry

EDDIE: I’ll stop bothering you and leave you to it. Sweet dreams. 

No, you nearly scream at your phone screen, come back and bother me. Bother me for the rest of my days for all I care. 

You’d never sleep another wink if it meant having him. You remember what you told him about starting over, starting fresh. And maybe taking a much needed nap would offer that. Maybe sleeping for more than thirty minutes at a time would be the smart choice, letting you awake with a clearer mind and better intentions.

But you don’t want that. The animal inside still clings to all that has happened. 

Something about that makes you brave.

YOU: i never said that, and you’re not bothering me.

EDDIE: Didn’t you say you wanted a nap earlier?

YOU: that was earlier. i’m wide awake now. 

An internal battle continues to take place. Your mind whispers liar, knowing damn well that if you put down the phone and turned your cheek to bury into your pillow, you’d be out like a light within seconds. 

EDDIE: Ah. I see. 

You fiddle with your thumbs for a second, stomach churning as you try to come up with a response to keep the conversation going. Technically, when you had said the two of you needed time apart after all that had happened, it should have meant interactions like this as well. Texting each other was not offering each other space.

But he’d started it. That was on him.

YOU: do you remember what i said about space? and starting over? 

EDDIE: I do. I’m not very good with giving you space, it seems. 

YOU: well, considering you’re on the other side of town, i’d say we’ve got the physical sense of space down. 

There’s a pause in his replies that causes you to sit up. A falter. You curse him for not having a smartphone as well, for not having the privilege of being notified whether he was just taking his time typing or if he had put the phone down. You really hoped it was the former, practically wished upon every star that that was what was happening. You hoped he was glued to his phone as you were yours. 

Maybe he still had that photo he’d taken a few hours ago, the one you swore you’d heard him take as you dozed off. Maybe he was still staring at it like you had done with all of your photos. 

EDDIE: About that…

You stare at the message, the hidden meaning behind it completely lost on you. 

YOU: About what? 

EDDIE: I’m not home right now. 

Your heart clenches. 

YOU: You’re not?

EDDIE: I’m not. 

YOU: Eddie, where the hell are you right now?

Your mind reels with all the possible choices. He could be at the bar, at the parking garage, at Nancy’s place. He could be anywhere. 

But then he only sends a picture in response, and you know where he is. 

You nearly topple into three other students from how you sprint down the hallway. You don’t even grab your key to your dorm room, skipping the elevators and nearly throwing yourself down the few flights of stairs in haste. You don’t care how your lungs cry out, you don’t care how your thighs burn, you don’t care how your shoulder aches from how roughly you slam open that front door of the building. You don’t care about the strange looks you get on your way out. You don’t care about the odd angle you twisted your ankle in on that last step. 

The only thing you care about is the boy standing there, helmet off and balanced on the seat of his parked motorcycle that he leans on, arms crossed as his eyes light up at the erratic sight of you. 

You don’t even check for any traffic in the parking lot as you make your way to him. 

“I’m sorry,” he calls out once you’re close enough to hear him, “I know we said give it time and shit, but you left, and I just-” 

He doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence. 

When you make it to Eddie, you’re in no business to carry anymore regret with you. This time, you don’t just yearn to kiss him, to wrap your arms around him, to pour out all those emotions you were feeling across tongues. 

You do it. You kiss him, uncaring for all the stares of fellow students. He nearly falls backwards into his bike from the force of you colliding against him, but he’s quick to catch himself as his hands find your waist. 

“You-” you pull back, gasping a bit to start to scold him before his lips follow and interrupt you, “Fucking-” Push and pull. You retreat, and he follows, “Idiot.” 

His hands squeeze around you, tugging you a stumbling step closer so that your chests are flushed against one another.

“I am,” he mumbles against your lip, the tip of his nose grazing over your cheek as he refuses to let anymore distance be put between the two of you, “I am a fucking idiot. I’m sorry.” 

“Stop apologizing.” 

His hands cradle your face and he kisses you this time, reaffirming that he felt everything you had. All those words you hadn’t said, all his own admissions he’d withheld, spill between clashing teeth and eager lips. He takes your breath away, shamelessly, greedily. And you let him. You offer all the air that’s left in your lungs up to him on a silver platter. 

When the two of you finally pull apart, eyes opening wide and foreheads pressing tightly to one another, he’s grinning like a fool. 

“So, I had a better idea than time apart,” he murmurs, “What if we just… start over?” 

“Start over?” you question wearily. 

He nods, “Yeah. Just… Just pretend this last year and all our bullshit didn’t happen. Start fresh. Let me not be a massive dick this time.” 

His hands drop from your face as he takes a step back, taking you in fully. You want to shy under his gaze, but instead you can only melt. His fondness is a warmth like no other, capturing you by the crown of your head and pouring down over you in waves. 

“Okay,” you finally agree, feeling your own cheeks spread and ache in a lovesick smile. Coming home, that’s what this felt like. “Okay, we can start over.” 

“Great,” the homecoming warmth only spreads as he straightens up his posture. A very serious look overcomes his face, laced with determination for a brief second until he relaxes it into a friendly smile, doleful eyes meeting yours as every single flower he had ever planted in your chest blooms like a spring morning. He sticks his hand out, nearly making you snort, “Hi, I’m Eddie.” 

You can’t help it. His front door is open, a warm glow within welcoming you. 

You ignore his hand entirely as you impulsively reach up and interlock your fingers at the nape of his neck, tugging him into you for another kiss. 

He pulls back far too soon for your liking, but his hands have also found their spot against the small of your back, “Do you greet all the new strangers you meet like this?” 

You roll your eyes, “Shut up.” 

He pulls you back in for a chaste peck, and it tastes like home. 

“I like you,” you whisper into the limited space between the two of you, “I mean it. I like you so fucking much, Edward Munson.” 

He grins, cracking your chest wide open with hope, “The feeling’s mutual.”

taglist: @catherinnn @haylaansmi @gaysludge @paprikaquinn @manda-panda-monium @audhd-dragonaut @blushingquincy @hellkaisersangel @eddieslittlewh0re @ajkamins @prettyboy200 @munsonzzgf @blue-eyed-lion @digwhatudug @madaboutjoe @wickedslashdivine @sweet-villain @somespicystuff @big-ope-vibes @jadequeen88 @sylviin @emma77645 @notbeforelong @lolalanaie @lo-siento-ama @happy-and-alone @micheledawn1975 @aysheashea @moon-huny @munsonswrld @bambipowerblueaddition @averagestudent03 @bakugouswh0r3 @mattefic @mxcheese @bietchz @nativity-in-black @stezzil @vngelis @coley0823 @folklorebau @luvmunson86 @theherothesavior @keene200213 @hargrovesswifee @m-chmcl-rmnc @cherrymedicine13 @iunaelumen777

taglist is now closed.

#my writing #twenty four hours #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #this feels so surreal to post jesus christ #thank you guys genuinely for all the love #i will be making a sappy post before i post the epilogue on thursday #i just #wow #yeah #i did it #again #i finished a fucking fic

[stranger-nightmare]

𝐈’𝐥𝐥 𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐈𝐭 𝐔𝐩 𝐓𝐨 𝐘𝐨𝐮

Part Two

Pairing: Eddie Munson x (female) Reader

Summary: Eddie’s been self conscious about his body ever since the bat incident in the upside down, so you take it upon yourself to show him just how beautiful he is

Warnings: spoilers for vol.2, fluff, angst, smut, mention of scars, praise kink, body worship, insecure Eddie, bit of sub! Eddie, oral (m receiving), penetrative sex (m+f), minors DNI

A/N: this follows straight on from part one so I’d definitely recommend reading that first, the link is just below! I hope you guys like this <33

Read Part One

This is for people 18+ only. Minors do not read on. By clicking ‘keep reading’ you are hereby agreeing that you are 18 or older.

“Eddie, please...” you plead with him sadly. “It’s okay” you try to reassure him gently. “Just let me in. Let me see” you whisper.

“I can’t,” he breathes shakily, “I just can’t.”

You can feel the tremble in his fingers as they squeeze yours tightly, keeping your hands firmly in place.

“Okay, okay,” you whisper gently, defeat etched on your face.

You untwist your fingers from his shirt, signalling to him you were gonna let go. He swallows a shaky breath, his jaw visibly tensing before he gives you a quick nod and lets go of your hands. You sit back on your heels, your hands folding in your lap. Eddie sighs deeply before pulling himself upright, moving to sit against the headboard. You shuffle forwards, moving between his legs. You see a twinge of fear gloss over his eyes as you move to basically straddle him again.

“Shh, it’s okay” you tell him softy, holding up your hands. “I’m not gonna touch you, I just want to be near you. Is that okay?” You ask gently.

Eddie simply nods but you can see his shoulders relax slightly. You nod back at him and you let your hands fall into your shared lap where his own hands were anxiously playing with one another. You place your hands in his, letting him absent-mindedly play with your fingers instead. You give him a moment before you speak up again.

“Eddie...” you start and you can immediately see the tension settle in his shoulders again.

“Baby, we need to talk about this” you tell him gently, his eyes still refusing to meet yours. “You need to let me in. You need to let me see.”

“See what?” He bluffs weakly.

You let out a small sigh of frustration.

“You know what, Eddie. You’re hiding yourself from me. And I don’t just mean emotionally speaking. You practically run away anytime you need to take your shirt off to change or whatever. You freeze anytime my hands go anywhere your stomach. Jesus, Eddie, you won't even let me just hug you” you croak through the tears that were threatening to spill again.

He just sits there silently, his eyes still firmly trained on where his hands played with yours in his lap.

“Do you think I’m gonna judge you or something?” You ask, hurt twinging your voice.

“No,” he stammers quickly. “No, not intentionally.”

He swallows before he continues, his chest rising and falling with another shaky breath.

"But you won't be able to help it, whether you mean to or not. These... scars...” he was hesitant to even say the word, “they’re hideous, y/n. No matter how much you love me; they’re horrible to look at and I just- I don’t know. I don’t want you to see me any differently because of them.”

“Of course I’m going to see you differently because of them,” you tell him, moving your hands to cup his face. “Those scars mark you as a fucking hero, Eddie Munson. A survivor. A fully certified badass. I mean, I knew those things about you anyway, now we just have proof. Certified proof of how fucking incredible you are,” you stroke his cheeks lightly as you smile softly at him.

You see Eddie swallow hard as a tear leaks down his cheek, which you quickly wipe away with your thumb.

“Eddie, I will never see you as anything other than beautiful,” you tell him earnestly. “Not just because of your pretty looks, which do help,” you laugh softly, eliciting a small smile from Eddie, “but because of who you are. You got that?”

Eddie gives a small nod as he sniffs lightly.

“Good” you whisper, giving him a soft kiss on the nose.

You lean your forehead against his, just holding his face and stroking his cheeks, just letting him take his time. His thumbs start to slowly stroke your hips where he held you. His grip starts loosen as he relaxes a bit, the tension melting from his body slowly.

“Please. Just let me see” you implore him after a few moments, releasing his face and sitting back on your heels again.

Eddie clears his throat and quickly wipes away another tear that had escaped his eye. After a moment’s contemplation he gives you a small nod. You return his nod before gently reaching out to grab the hem of his shirt. You keep your eyes on his, keeping your movements slow and gentle, waiting for any signal in case he changed his mind. You slowly lift up his shirt as he raises his arms to let you pull it over your head. Once it’s off you toss it to the side. But Eddie immediately locks his arms around his body, trying to hide as much of himself as he could.

You have to choke back the sob that threatens to rack through you. Not only at the sight of this beautiful boy so self conscious, but from the small peaks of scars that you could see through the gaps in his arms. You take a deep, steadying breath before you tentatively reach out to touch his arms. You can see his body shake as he takes a deep, trembling breath before he lets you slowly unfold his arms.

His eyes look anywhere but at you as yours rake over his body. Tears well in your eyes as you take in the angry red gashes that tainted his sides. The scars were mostly healed now but you could tell they were deep and permanent. They looked terrifying only in the sense that they evoked the memory of when you’d almost lost him. But there was also an odd comfort in them, a reminder that despite this, despite these scars, he had pulled through. You go to reach out a hand before you stop yourself quickly.

“Is it okay if I...” you trial off, reaching your arm forwards but not touching him yet.

He takes another shaky breath before he nods again, his eyes still not meeting yours. You tentatively reach out your hand, letting your fingers lightly brush one of the scars, your touch feather light. You see as well as feel Eddie tense as your fingers slowly but surely explore the contours of the raised skin.

“Do they still hurt?” You whisper.

“Not really. Not anymore” he shrugs sadly, sniffing as he tries to keep his own tears contained.

Your hands slowly but surely start to roam all over his torso, his sides, his stomach, tracing over the lines and swirls of each scar. You then let your hands slowly travel up his body, across his chest and up further until you were cupping the back of his head, your fingers curling into the hair at the nape of his neck. You gently pull until he turns his face to look at you at last, his sad glossy eyes finally meeting yours.

“Eddie” you whisper sadly, your voice threatening to break with tears. “You’re so beautiful” you tell him earnestly.

His eyes look at you quizzically, his mouth opening as he fumbles to find a response. But you don’t give him the time to.

“You’re so fucking beautiful” you say in a firmer tone.

You start peppering his face with kisses, murmuring soft praises as your lips blaze across his skin, going from his cheeks, to his jaw, to his neck, his throat, collarbones, anywhere you could reach. He lets out the quietest of groans as you kiss him all over.

“But these scars...” he trials off and you can hear the insecurity in his voice. “The scars... they’re...”

“They’re a reminder that you survived, Eddie” you sit back up to look at him. “They’re a reminder that you made it, that you came back to me. That you fought a bunch of fucking supernatural bats and lived to tell the tale. They’re fucking metal, babe,” you laugh softly through your tears.

Eddie returns your chuckle with a small, shy smile; “you think so?”

“Oh yeah, super metal” you nod your head. “Totally rad” you joke with him softly.

The two of you both chuckle lightly and you can feel him slowly start to relax again. When your giggles die down you look at him earnestly again.

“Seriously Eddie, you’re beautiful. And these scars are beautiful simply because they’re a part of you” you tell him as you give the back of his head light scratches with your nails.

You lean forward to press your lips against his. You kiss him softly, letting him warm up to your touch again. Slowly but surely he starts to lean more into the kiss, his lips moving with more enthusiasm against your own. You sigh contently as he kisses you back more fervently, gently pushing his tongue into your mouth. His hands seek out your hips and he pulls you into his lap.

When your bare pussy meets the crotch of his jeans you can feel he’s started to grow hard again. You whine into the kiss as you start to grind down on him, encouraging him to grow even harder. He groans softly into your mouth as his hands move with your hips, helping with your bucking motion.

You kiss him hard for another second before you take your mouth off of his and begin your trial of kisses down his face and neck again. Eddie leans his head back against the headboard, letting you access his neck better. You gently bite, kiss, and suck at his skin, leaving your own marks across his flesh. You listen to the soft and gentle sounds of his whimpers and groans as you mark up his skin, slowly making your way further down his body.

You shift your hips back, arching your body as you kiss further down his chest. As you approach his stomach he starts to tense again, his fingers digging into your waist.

“Wh- what are you doing?” He stammers.

“Shh, it’s okay,” you whisper against his skin, continuing to kiss him. “It’s okay baby. I’ve got you. You’re okay. You’re safe with me,” you murmur gently. “And... you’re... so.... fucking... pretty,” you place a kiss between each word.

When you reach the top of his stomach, just above where the scarring starts, you stop and lift your eyes to meet his again.

“If you want me to stop, just tell me okay?”

He looks at you nervously but nods, letting you continue your movements. You shift on the bed, moving yourself back a bit so you could better reach his stomach. You duck your head again and resume your kisses along his chest. At the same time you let a hand slide up his thigh until you find your mark at his crotch. You palm him gently as you slowly move your lips lower down.

Eddie flinches when your lips first make contact with one of the scars. He tenses briefly but he doesn’t stop you. You can feel and hear his shaky breathes as you gently trace your lips further over his scars, placing the softest of kisses to his skin, your mouth brushing featherlight across his body. You hum gently against his skin, moving your way across his stomach to his other side where more scars adorned his skin.

“You’re so beautiful,” you repeat, murmuring against his body. “Such a pretty, pretty boy.”

He groans softly at your words, his hips starting to buck up into your hand where you were still palming his crotch, feeling him steadily grow fully hard beneath your touch. He lets out a breathy “fuck” as you kiss lower down his stomach, making your way down to his belly button. You kiss across his hip bones, the fabric of his boxers skimming your bottom lip. You raise your eyes to meet his, again just checking in with him. He looks down at you, his bottom lip between his teeth, and nods lightly. You smile and give his lower belly another a quick kiss before you go to undo his jeans.

You unzip his jeans, pulling them off him as he shifts in the bed. You kiss your way up his thighs, enjoying the way he was now squirming under your touch. This boy was just as aching and desperate for touch as you had been. You kiss up his inner thighs until you reach the shorts of his boxers. He’s fully hard now, his dick straining in the confinement of his underwear. You smirk lightly at the wet spot where his pre-cum had leaked. You place a kiss to clothed cock, revelling in the groan that sounded from Eddie. He bucks his hips up again, desperately seeking your mouth, seeking to be free from all this pent up tension.

You sit up lightly as you finally slowly drag his boxers down his legs, shucking them off and tossing them aside. His aching cock springs free, slapping against his stomach. His tip was red and swollen, wet with his pre-cum. Eddie’s hands ball into the sheets at his sides when you lean down and lick a gentle stripe on the underside of his cock, right from the base to his tip.

“Oh fuck,” he whimpers so quietly you almost don’t hear it. “Please, please,” he pants inaudibly.

“Shh baby, it’s okay,” you hum, placing a kiss to his swollen head. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” you whisper gently before you take his head into your mouth.

He gasps and shudders at even the smallest sensation of having your mouth on him. You swirl your tongue around his tip, letting it dart into his slit, tasting his pre-cum. Eddie tosses his head back, pushing back against the headboard as he squeezes his eyes shut in pleasure.

You slowly sink your mouth down his length, taking your time to ease him into your mouth. It was more for his sake than yours, you didn’t want to overwhelm him too quickly. You set a slow pace as you bob your head up and down on his dick, letting your tongue flatten against his base as you suck softly. You look up to see Eddie a mess above you; he’s panting, red in the face, his stomach raising and falling rapidly with his heavy breathing, fists balled into the sheets desperately. Fuck, you’d missed seeing him like this.

“Fuck,” he whimpers, running a hand through his hair. “Oh shit, shit your mouth feels so fucking good,” he groans as you steadily increase your speed.

His body coils and tenses as the sensations take over his body. You knew he probably wasn’t going to last long himself, seeing as he was just as touch starved as you had been.

“Wait wait. Stop, please,” he suddenly pants, his hand coming to cup your jaw and gently pull your mouth off him.

You look at him with a silent question in your eyes, worried that this had become too much for him now, that maybe he needed to stop.

“I- I just- I want- want to finish inside you” he whispers breathlessly, his thumb stroking your cheek.

He moves his hand from your cheek to gently cup the back of your neck, pulling you back up towards his face. You smile up at him as you crawl over his body until your lips crash against his again. You both moan into the kiss as his tongue invades your mouth again. He kisses you fervently, breathlessly, his hands flat against your back, pushing you tight against him.

You grind your hips down and feel the tip of his head brushing against your folds. Eddie moves one hand off your body to grab his dick and line it up with your entrance. When you feel his tip push just inside your entrance you sink down onto him, sitting down until he filled you to the brim. Both of you moan sinfully load at the feeling.

“Oh fuck,” Eddie exclaims at the feeling of finally being inside you. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good. Can’t believe I almost forgot how good you feel. So warm and so tight for me” he rambles incoherently, his fingers squeezing your hips roughly.

You moan at his words, your own mind foggy at feeling so full again. So full of him. Eddie throws his head back again, his eyes screwing shut, his mouth twisting. It was as if it was taking every ounce of his self restraint to not blow his load immediately just at the feeling of your warm cunt wrapped around him. You give him a second to compose himself, busying yourself with kissing all over his face and neck, your hands tangling into his hair as you cup the back of his head.

After a moment Eddie’s hands land on your waist, slowly starting to guide you as you rock back and forth on his cock. A string of soft moans and sighs leave the both of you as you gently start to to ride him. He grunts with the effort of restraining himself, trying his best to work you towards another climax before he let himself finish. His eyes bore into yours, watching you intently as you grind onto his cock.

Your eyes search his in return as you slowly bring a hand down his chest. You see his breath hitch and feel him tense again. But he doesn’t stop you; he lets you trail your hand down his chest until you reach his torso, your eyes following the movement of your hand. His hand comes to grab yours suddenly, stopping your movement. You look at him briefly again and see the panic in his eyes, his breathing getting heavier from more than just the effort of fucking up into you.

You look at him gently, trying to convey all your thoughts and emotions through your gaze. I love you. You’re beautiful. You’re safe. We’re okay. You’re beautiful. You’re beautiful. You’re so fucking beautiful.

After a moment he gives you a tiny nod, releasing your hand. You place a quick kiss to his lips before you carry on with your movements. You gently skip your fingers over his stomach, over his sides, feeling the rough bumps of the scars there. You watch the way the skin flexes, rising and falling with his heavy breaths.

You bring your other hand down and gently hold onto his sides, using it to help gain momentum as you pick up your speed. Your fingers skim over the raised skin and you’re careful to keep your grip gentle, not wanting to hurt him or push him too far. Eddie stays tensed for a moment but is quickly lost again in the feeling of you riding him, of being so deep inside you after not having felt your perfect pretty cunt around him for so long.

He tilts his head up to look at you, his nose brushing yours again as your breathes mix.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry for everything” he whimpers in a ramble.

You shake your head at him; “no, it’s okay baby. It’s okay” you whisper back, your hands stroking the back of his neck again.

“I love you, I love you so fucking much” he whines as he tips his head forwards to rest his forehead on yours.

“I know, I love you too Eddie” you smile gently, kissing the tip of his nose.

Eddie’s pace then starts to quicken, his thrusts getting sloppy and desperate. His one hand finds it’s way between your bodies, his fingers feverishly landing on your clit as he starts to rub circles around it. His grunts were getting louder and more frequent, his telltale sign that he was getting close. He was desperately trying to get you closer to your own climax so that you could cum together.

“Please,” he pants incoherently again. “I need to cum... I need you to cum with me... please baby, cum with me... cum with me,” he rambles as he rubs your clit even faster.

Hearing him begging for release sent a fresh surge of arousal through you, your pussy clenching around him.

“Oh fuck,” he cries as you feel him twitch inside you. “Fuck, fuck, holy shit,” he whimpers as he fucks up into you a final few times before you feel his warmth flood your insides.

His trembling fingers keep rubbing your clit fervently, which paired with the sight of him coming undone beneath you, finally tips you over the edge yourself.

“Shit, Eddie,” you squeak as your third orgasm of the night rocks through you.

You and Eddie both shake lightly as he slowly fucks you through your highs. A months worth of pent up anger, stress, sadness, it all washes away as pleasure courses through both your bodies. As you. both slowly start to come down you brush some of the hair out of his face and look down at him softly. His big dark eyes stare back into yours. His eyes are alive, looking at you with awe and adoration, the way he used to look at you.

There, you think to yourself. There you are, there’s the boy I know and love.

You heart swells and you lean forward to give him a gentle and tender kiss, his lips reciprocating your action, moving with a soft fervour against your own. He kisses you for while as the two of you catch your breath, coming down from your climaxes. Eventually he bumps your nose with his, his go to signal that he was gonna move to get the two of you cleaned up. He helps lift you off him and gently places you back onto the bed beside you. He flashes a soft smile before he gets up and heads to the bathroom, grabbing a fresh pair of boxers on his way.

You hear water run as he gives himself a quick rinse down before he comes back to the bedroom, boxers back on and a wet towel in hand. As he makes his way back over to you he scoops up the shirt he’d been wearing and a small flare of fear shoots through you. No, he’s going to hide from me again, cover himself up.

But instead Eddie sits next to you on the bed, guiding you to lift up your arms so that he could drape the shirt over your body. He pulls the shirt down your torso and gives you a quick boop on the nose. You feels tears spring in your eyes again, but this time, they were tears of joy. He wasn’t hiding from you anymore.

Eddie quickly but thoroughly wipes you down, cleaning your skin from where both yours and his cum had stained it. He strokes your skin softly with his other hand, following the trail of where he cleaned you with the towel. This, this was the Eddie you knew. The soft and tender boy who was always so lovingly gentle and considerate, so heartbreakingly intimate regardless of how hard he’d fucked you in the past. Once he’s finished cleaning you up he strokes down your nose with his little finger, another signature Eddie move, before he gets up to toss the towel into the laundry basket.

He comes back to the bed again, this time grabbing you a fresh pair of panties from the drawer for you to sleep in. He slips them on you, guiding them up your legs and over your hips. He kisses each of your hips tenderly before he climbs into the bed next to you and lies down on his back. You lie down next to him gingerly, careful not to touch his torso. You were still cautious of not pushing him past his limit.

But not a second later his arm reaches out for you and pulls you against his body. You smile into his chest as his arm wraps around you, his fingers playing lightly up and down your back. The two of you lie in comfortable silence for a while. His hand stroking your back, your fingers dancing across his chest lightly.

“I didn’t even realise just how much I missed this” Eddie hums quietly after a moment. “You were right here beside me this whole time but I was miles away.”

You don’t answer him save for turning your head to place another kiss to his tummy.

“I’m sorry” he croaks and you can hear that he was close to tears again.

You shake your head as you twist to look up at him.

“I was never looking for an apology Eddie. I just wanted you back.”

He gives a small nod before he leans up to place a quick kiss to your forehead.

“I’m here,” he whispers, “I’m here now.”

You kiss his chest and let your fingers trace over his scars once again, content that he was no longer flinching from the touch, no longer hiding from you.

You give him a small smile; “I know.”

Masterlist

A/N: as if I was originally gonna put both parts into one fic, that shit would’ve been ridiculously long!! anyways I really hope you guys liked this, both parts took me a looong time to write so yeah I really hope you guys enjoyed them <33

Taglist // Join My Nightmare Realm // Ko-fi

#stranger nightmare #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x female reader smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fix it fic #joseph quinn #stranger things #stranger things smut #stranger things imagine

[starlitmark]

Summary: Maybe you shouldn’t have pressed his buttons so hard… Pairing: brother’s best friend!Yunho x fem!reader Genre: smut Tropes: brother’s best friend au Rating: R 18+ Warnings: language, some crying  Smut Warnings: hate sex, choking, degradation, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, sub-dropping Word Count: 1,408 Note: we’ve reached the end of Arousal August! I hope you’ve all enjoyed this <3 thank you again to the amazing @mejuii for beta/proofing this!!

Your relationship with Yunho has always been, we’ll say, strained. You can’t stand him despite him being your brother’s best friend and roommate. Something about his stupidly handsome face makes you want to scream. You had come over to their shared apartment with the understanding that Mingi would be there. He had told you he didn’t have anything to do today and that you would have your weekly sibling date today. Yet here you are with no Mingi on the premise. You can hear Yunho in his room doing who knows what. Weighing your options, you end up walking down the short hallway toward his room. You don’t even bother knocking on the doorframe when you get there. Taking one rather nasty look at Yunho, you sigh before speaking.

“Where’s Mingi?” you ask with a sharp tone.

“Hell, if I know. He’s not here, so you can see yourself out. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.” he hisses, not looking up from his laptop.

“Very funny, Yunho. I know you know where he is.” You bite back.

“You’re so fucking nosey. Why don’t you just fucking leave?”

You dare to step into his room and give him a glare from where you were standing. You’re challenging him. He never does anything when Mingi’s around. Now that his best friend isn’t, you want to see if he will. With a smirk plastered on your lips, you walk further into the room and right over to his bookshelf.

“You read some shit books.” You state, running your finger along the spines of the books, “If you want something good to read, I guess I could give you better mat-”

Your words are stolen from your lips when you feel a hand grab your shoulder and spin you around. Yunho is not but a foot from your face. There’s a flame in his eye as he has you there pinned against the wall. After the initial shock, you’re back to where you were. You’re absolutely having too much fun pushing his buttons.

“Damn, Yunho. If you wanted to get me pinned to the wall, you could’ve just asked. Though, I doubt you’d be able to take care of me.” You provoke.

Yunho all but growls and wraps a hand around your throat. He doesn’t put any pressure on your neck, but the presence alone has your heart racing.

“I’m fucking tired of your little attitude,” he says far too calmly.

“What are you gonna do about it?” You fight back, still not daring to move. 

“You want proof I can take care of you?” He offers, slightly putting pressure on the sides of your neck.

“You mean just for me to be right about you not knowing how to? I’d love to.”

Before you can process it, you’re clothes are gone, and you’re pinned down to Yunho’s bed. One of his large hands is wrapped around your throat, causing you to reel in the sensation it’s causing. The other is holding your hip to ensure you don’t squirm too much. Yunho is thrusting into you at an animalistic pace, making you see stars even more. You refuse to give him the satisfaction of hearing you moan, though. How you’re holding your noises back, you have no idea.

“Come on, don’t you wanna let those moans out? Sound like a fucking slut while I fuck you?” he growls.

You shake your head, not trusting your voice in the slightest. 

“What? Can’t use your words? Are you too far gone that you can’t fucking speak?” He chuckles, “If I had known fucking you would get you to shut up, I would’ve done it a long time ago.”

His grip on your throat tightens as his thrusts become harsher. That’s the straw that broke the camel’s back. You let out a loud moan, and once that one escapes, they don’t stop coming. You beg and plead for anything. Yunho is still degrading you with his filthy words that your brain can’t comprehend at the moment. You doubt you’re saying anything intelligible at the moment, anyway. In hopes of getting yourself closer to your high, you attempt to roll your hips into his thrusts. Instead, you’re greeted with a sharp slap to your thigh before his hand reclaims its place on your hip.

“Fuckin’ slut.” he bites, “You take what I give you, understand?”

You nod.

“Use your fucking words. You seem to never shut up any other time.”

“Please!” you beg, tears springing from your eyes, “Please, Yunho! I’m so so close!” you manage to say between moans. 

“You think I’ll- fuck- I’ll let you cum that easily, whore?”

“Yunho, please.” you moan, “Want you to cum inside me.” 

“Oh, is that right?” he asks condescendingly.

“Please!” you beg again, scratching his shoulders.

That’s all it takes to trigger his orgasm. His hips stutter as he cums deep inside you. His sounds, combined with the sloppy thrusts, trigger your high. Your walls flutter around him, and your nails dig deeper into his broad shoulders. He pulls out in one sharp movement and watches how his cum leaks out of you. 

He’s about to walk out of the room when he feels a disturbance in the air. When he turns around, he sees you on the brink of tears sitting on his bed. He isn’t sure what overtakes him, but he immediately swoops you up in his arms and holds you close. You cry quietly for a few moments. Murmuring something about not doing a good job. All Yunho can do is rub your back gently and coax you back into reality.

“You did so well. It was insensitive of me to walk away so soon after,” he says gently. It’s a tone he’s never used with you before.

“You hate me.” You comment weakly, “I don’t blame you for walking away.”

“I don’t,” he states plainly.

“You don’t? Why are you so mean to me whenever-”

He wipes a stray tear from your cheek, “I don’t have an explanation for that. Maybe I was deflecting what I really felt in fear of what Mingi might say.” “I’m a grown woman. I can decide who I date without Mingi’s permission.” You chuckle slightly.

“I know. I know.” he says softly, pressing a kiss into your hair, “Are you fully back with me now?”

“Mhm. I’m processing how sticky I feel now,” you admit.

Yunho chuckles, and you feel the sound vibrate through his chest. 

“Let’s get cleaned up and change the sheets. Then, does cuddling sound good to you?”

“More than.” you smile at him.

After a peaceful shower together and cleaning up the bedroom (including opening a window and lighting a scented candle), you curl up under Yunho’s arm and rest your head against his chest. It’s peace like you’ve never known another person before. It’s ironic how the person you swore you hate is the person you found yourself most at peace with. Then, you hear the front door click open and shut. Neither of you is fully awake, though, not enough to process what the sound was. Just as you open your eyes and process what that sound is, your brother is already busting through Yunho’s previously closed bedroom door. Yunho scrambles to protect your decency, which happens to be tossing himself on top of you. You squeal at the sudden movement.

“You two finally fucked it out?” Mingi asks, sounding hopeful, “It’s been goddamn years of that stupid tension!”

He walks out, forgetting to close the door behind him. Your new boyfriend sighs and gets out of bed to close the door. Just as the door is about to click shut, you hear your brother call through his door.

“If you hurt her or knock her up, I’m reserving the right to murder you still!”

You’re half tempted to walk in there and beat his ass for making that comment, but you can’t find the willpower to get out of Yunho’s comfy bed to do so. Yunho shakes his head and closes the door fully. Climbing back into bed, he wraps his arms around you again.

“How do you think he’ll react when he finds out we fuck raw?”

“Jeong Yunho!”

You smack his chest, and he lets out a bright giggle. Maybe all you really needed was to fuck it out all this time. You never hated him. You’re hopelessly and irrevocably in love with him.

COPYRIGHT STARLITMARK 2023© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED — reposting/modifying any fic or piece of original writing posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations are not permitted. 

Networks: @cultofdionysusnet @kwritersworld @k-vanity

Tag List: @sanjoongie @jaehunnyy @ericssmile @anyamaris @almondmilkeu @shinestarhwaa

#yunho smut #arousal august #cultofdionysusnet #kwritersworldnet #kvanity #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez smut #yunho fanfic #yunho x reader

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Hallowed

Pairing: Michael Gavey (Saltburn) x f!reader Warnings: Toxic relationship dynamics, face sitting, smut. Word count: ~1.3k

Summary: Her Early Medieval Literature essay is due, and Michael has his own cruel way of ensuring she stays focused.

Author's note: Can be read as part two of this fic, but also works as a standalone. Day six of the Smuffmas prompts - "future and face sitting". No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

She lounges on Michael’s bed, clad in only knickers and one of his t-shirts, a copy of the Canterbury Tales grasped lightly between her fingers. Her eyes move over the words of Chaucer, but take none of them in, how could they? His long fingers draw lazy circles on her ankle, her legs stretched out up to the pillows where he reclines, the duvet wrapped around his bare midriff while he reads from a textbook called the Book of Proof.

Life feels simpler since Michael has entered it, despite the turbulent beginnings. She has given up her friends, under his advice, and there is now far less pressure to conform. Her only focuses are her studies and pleasing him, the latter of the two she takes great pleasure in.

It is always on his terms; when they see each other, what they do, how they do it, and despite his obvious initial inexperience he is a fast learner. His ability to make her fall apart, to make her relinquish all control is something he does expertly. The slight fear she feels towards him only adds to the excitement; he could destroy her if he wanted to, but if she plays nicely then he won’t, and she is more than happy to play nicely when the rewards for doing so are as satisfying as they are.

She sighs, his fingers upon her flesh making her core throb with want, even from the simple gesture of absentmindedly touching her leg. She lets her book slip from her fingers, raising up on her elbow to look at him.

“Michael…” she whines.

He looks at her impassively, adjusting his glasses. “The first of your three essays is due soon, isn’t it?”

“Mmm,” she responds with a roll of her eyes, flopping back down and stretching her arms above her head. “Early Medieval Literature.”

His hand moves from her ankle, fingertips ghosting over the exposed skin between the hem of his t-shirt and the waistband of her underwear. “And what have you written?”

She shivers beneath his touch, squirming slightly. “Am I really here to study?”

“I’ve no interest in sleeping with a failing literature student,” he pulls his hand away and she immediately misses his warmth. “So tell me.”

She groans in frustration. “Oh, I don’t know. Probably something about irony in the Merchant’s Tale.”

His textbook thuds closed and she hears the heavy sound of him dropping it onto the bedside table. When she chances to glance up at him she sees he is sitting straighter in the bed, his gaze hardened as he looks at her. “Probably?! You mean you haven’t started it? Have you even thought about your thesis statement, your in-depth analysis or how you’re going to conclude your ideas, if you’ve even had any?”

“Oh, come on,” she says softly, sitting up and reaching for him. “There’s still time. Can’t we just–”

“No,” he cuts her off. “I’ve been spoiling you, and it’s made you stupid.”

“I’m not stupid!” She protests. “If I remember correctly, it was you who called my degree a ‘glorified book club’.”

“You still need to try,” he tells her, frowning.

“You don’t try,” she argues with a shrug,” and marks in your first year don’t count towards the final degree.”

“I don’t have to try, but I still get firsts in everything. Marks this year may not count towards the final degree you get, but they count towards you keeping your scholarship. Think about your future instead of being a fucking brat for once in your life.”

His words are a sharp sting to her already fragile ego, and she lowers her gaze, fighting the sudden urge to cry.

“I’m not touching you again until your essay’s handed in and I’ve seen what your mark is.”

Her head snaps up, eyes wide with disbelief as she looks at him, searching his features for any indication that he’s being unserious. She finds none; he really means it.

“And you’re not to touch yourself. I’ll know.”

The next two weeks are torturous for her. On the occasions that Michael does invite her to his room, there is no more casual half dressed lounging on his bed. Instead, he has a study space set up for her at his desk, and won’t allow her to speak or leave until she has at least a thousand words written. 

They meet up in the library during free periods so that he can read through what she’s written, and her skin burns hot with humiliation each time he screws up a page and throws it into the waste paper bin, calling her arguments “lazy” and “uninspired”.

It lights a fire of determination beneath her, but bubbling under the surface is also a heightened state of arousal, driven by the lack of intimacy, and the fact that she finds that she likes it when he is so authoritative over her.

By the time she has finished, she has produced an essay that both her and Michael are satisfied with; it discusses the use of irony in Chaucer’s poem, the Merchant's Tale. She has used a number of excerpts and lines from the poem for analysis, revealing the instances of irony in each, and from this has determined that the irony Chaucer used in the Merchant's Tale is controlled.

Her eyes light up when Professor Ware hands it back, and she sees the 85% that’s circled at the top of it.

A first.

She feels giddy with excitement as she knocks on Michael’s door that evening, brandishing the now dog-eared pages at him as he opens the door.

“A first, I got a first!” She squeals, watching as he takes the essay from her, his eyes moving slowly over the top page.

“Hmmm,” he settles it down on the desk, removing his glasses and placing them on top. “Take off your jeans and underwear.”

“Wha–what?” She stammers, her grin fading.

“You want your reward, don’t you?” He asks, moving to lay back on the bed.

She swallows thickly, excitement fluttering in her lower belly, as she quickly complies, ridding herself of the clothing that covers her lower half.

“Come here,” he commands softly.

She joins him on the bed, a gasp leaving her as he manhandles her until her knees are positioned either side of his head.

“My clever girl,” he whispers. His words could be mistaken for softness, were they not directly juxtaposed by the rapid darkening of his blue eyes, and the way his thumbs drag across the indentations between her thighs and pelvis. “I knew you could do it, you just needed a little…push.”

He drags his tongue from her opening all the way to her pearl, and her jaw goes slack, the wet sensation making her clench as she falls forward, hands clawing at the wall in front of her.

His grip on her thighs tightens and he tugs her flush against his face, the sloppy sounds of him devouring her are lewd combined with the wanton cries of pleasure that tumble from her lips.

She feels her mind go blank as he inserts his tongue inside of her, keeping it rigid as she begins to grind herself in a circular motion, keeping his nose pressed against where she needs it most, desperately chasing the release she’s needed the last couple of weeks.

His hum of appreciation reverberates through her core, and as he withdraws from her, plush lips wrapping around her sensitive bundle of nerves she feels herself fall apart as the growing ache intensifies, completely at his mercy as he laps at her, while white hot waves of pleasure wash over her.

She raises up when it becomes too much, jerking at how oversensitive she feels and gazes down at him through heavy lidded eyes, breathless.

He looks like an utterly different person without his glasses, almost kind, though she knows better. His chin is shiny with her slick as he smirks up at her.

“You’ve worked so hard,” he says quietly, though the edge of malevolence to his voice is unmistakable. “But don’t worry, you can give that pretty little mind of yours a rest while I fuck you stupid again.”

She is powerless to resist as he tugs her back to his face once more, beginning the exquisite torture all over again.

#michael gavey x reader #ewan mitchell #michael gavey x y/n #michael gavey x you #michael gavey smut #michael gavey imagine #michael gavey saltburn #saltburn michael gavey #michael gavey fanfiction #michael gavey fan fiction #michael gavey fan fic #michael gavey fanfic #saltburn #saltburn fan fiction #saltburn fanfiction #saltburn fanfic #saltburn fan fic

[grippingbeskar]

old partners, new plans

— joel miller x fem!reader

—warnings: explicit content minors dni (oral m receiving, mxf) swearing, very minor dom!joel but it’s like not an established thing

—a/n: back at it!!! hope you guys enjoy! i love writing for joel sm. he so sexy <3

“That was not the deal.” You growl, squaring your shoulders.

“Deals change.” Is all the reply you get, Joel still leaning against the frame of your door. You can hardly see him there, the dark of night shrouding him in something akin to mystery— at least, he would be mysterious if you hadn’t already seen every inch of him.

“You know that’s not fair, Joel. I’ve waited ages for this opening, and I’m fucked without the pills to trade.” You take a step towards him and lower your voice, knowing people have been hung in the centre of town for even thinking about leaving, let alone having an entire plan like you did. Or had. “I need to get to them.”

“You don’t even know they’re out there.” You bite back a laugh, turning away from him. You hear the click of the door behind you, and Joel sounds louder as he finally steps into your house. “This is a bad idea— always has been. You got no proof, no solid plan… you’re fucked with or without the pills.”

“Oh, because you’re so sure Tommy’s still alive? That plan is so well thought out— huh?”

“That’s different.”

“No, it’s not! My family is out there, and they’re waiting for me. I know they are. I’ve had this plan for months— months, Joel! You know what this means, and you choose now of all times to hold out on me?!” You shout now, head under his chin staring up at him.

“I’m not holdin’ out, there’s nothin’ I can do about it. My guy ain’t getting back for a week, and I can’t just pull strings I don’t have.” Your heart plummets. The look in his face seems genuine— broken, sad… but it doesn’t make you any less angry. “I can’t help you.”

“But you were fine taking my batteries and tools. And my route to the outside for the last six months. All that you were happy to take me up on, but now it’s time to pay and you’re suddenly empty? I don’t buy it, Joel.” You say his name harshly, with none of the need and honey-like sweetness you remember from those few months of bliss before you told him you were getting out. Before he iced you out completely. “I can’t believe you’re doing this. As what— some kind of pay back?”

“You know that’s not—“

“Why? Because I’m not sleeping with you anymore? That’s fucking low, even for you. And you are the one that stopped that, not me, so don’t blame your blue balls on me just cause you can’t deal with the inevitable.” You suck in a quick breath, wishing you could take the words back.

Oh, he’s fucking angry now. Before he was letting you rant, letting you yell at him because he knew he was in the wrong but something about your comment made him flip.

Neither of you had mentioned what happened. How that night, when you told him you were leaving, he just got up and left your bed, never coming back. Sure, you were blunt and maybe a little harsh when you told him you were going, but he didn’t even look at you for a week. Only when you went to him to ask for the last piece of your escape plan, he managed to look at you, but even then he was short and harsh like you had been. Like you’d done something to him personally— left him cold and alone in a giant bed, words you never got to say still stuck in your throat. How he never gave you a chance to finish, to explain, to ask him to come with you. Find both of your families.

It was the first time you’d really spoken at all since then— conversations that used to be never ending and comforting turning to surface level communication, only speaking when necessary. Sure, you were shouting at each other right now but at least you were talking. Anything was better than silence.

“Don’t you ever fucking say that to me. Don’t you dare tell me I had anything to do with you leavin’. You did this to yourself— to us.” He didn’t yell, but you sort of wish he had, because the low, growling tone of his voice was somehow ten times worse. “You were the one who wanted to leave. I never—“

“You don’t have to remind me.” You don’t let him finish the thought, instead cutting him off and diverting your eyes to the fists at his side, straining with fury. His knuckles were bruised, either from work or a side gig he didn’t tell you about. He never told you about anything anymore.

“I got no pills. I’ll dump ‘em in the old spot when they come in. Try not to get yourself killed ‘til then.” He turns to leave, and you feel your stomach flip. This will be the last time you see him if he comes through. The last time you spoke.

“Okay, I’m sorry.” He laughs bitterly, shaking his head. “Hey— I didn’t meant that, alright? You really want to leave it like this?”

“You’re going. Probably gonna die out there. What’s the point in talking about it?” You want to yell, want to fight him on it but he wouldn’t even listen— “You’re signin’ your death sentence outside of these walls alone. Don’t blame me for not giving you the push.”

“Joel, just wait a second.” His hand stills as it moved to grab the door. “I don’t… I don’t want to leave you like this. I never wanted to leave you. If you just let me—“

“You made that bed weeks ago.” He stares ahead, never letting you finish and still not turning around to look at you. Your heart freezes at the thought of him walking out that door. You want to leave— but you never wanted to do it alone. Even after weeks of silence and rough edges, you’d take any time with him over… well, anything.

“Let me unmake it. Just… please don’t walk out on me, Joel.” You take a few tentative steps, gauging the progress you’ve made. His spine straightens when your fingers dance up his back, gentle and slow. You catch the bottom of his shirt and slip under, feeling the warmth of his skin under your palm and the way he sighs— as if your touch relieves him. “I hated how I went about… things. I never meant to have it turn out like this. Us ignoring each other.”

“Well, that’s what happened.” His head turns ninety degrees, eyes looking over his shoulder as you walk your fingers higher. His shoulder blades, always full of tension, relax under your hand, and you trail your other hand up to find the other, watching his eyes flutter closed as you dig your palms into the muscle there.

“I know. It was unfair of me to spring it on you that night, and I shouldn’t of said the things I did. I’m sorry.” He doesn’t say anything, but he sighs again as you continue to manipulate his muscle. You wish he’d take his shirt off so you could do it properly, but this would do for now. “But you never let me finish— that day.”

“I heard…fuck. I heard what I needed to hear.” His head drops down, chin to his chest as you step up on your toes and massage him in slow, steady circles. You hadn’t touched him in so long, you were nearly burning with just this intimacy alone, but you had to bide your time. Coax him in slowly, like a scared lone wolf— tempt him closer with paced, quiet movements until you could get your chance.

“Let me fix it. Fix this.” You say softly, your heart slamming against your chest.

“You’re still leaving. Can’t fix that.” His voice strains, and you run your hands lower to dig into the muscle of his back.

“Yeah.” He sighs again at your answer. “And you still hate me for it.”

“Yeah.” He copies you, and you try to ignore how much the simple word affects you.

“But we still have right now.”

“What’s the— shit, that’s good.” He shuffles back into your touch. “What the point?”

“Cause I can make you feel so much better than this. Don’t you remember?” You are nearly begging, but if memory serves you right, a few ‘pleases’ seem to make him do just about anything. “This is just my hands, but my mouth… my—“

“Yeah. Yeah, I fucking remember. Think about it every night.” You run your hands up again, but this time take his shirt with you and bring it up over his head. He moves, finally, grabbing the collar and shucking it off his shoulders, letting the fabric pool at his feet in front of the door.

“Let me make it up to you. Please, Joel.” He groans when you press harder, feeling how his muscles have gone nearly placid under your touch now. “Even if it’s just tonight. If you still hate me, you can leave and not look back, but I… I can’t stand this thing we have going on. The quiet. I can’t do it. Please.”

He turns around, towering over you as a mass of unkept, wild curls and a burning need in his eyes. It makes you smile, that look in his eye— because it’s been so long since he’s looked at you with anything other than hatred. Now, he needs you. Needs what only you can give him, and even if this could be the last night of it, you couldn’t help but think it would last forever with how heavy his gaze was.

“You wanna make it up to me?” He’s tilting his head in question, watching your hands move up and down his torso in teasing strokes.

“Please, Joel.” You see it splinter, his final plank of resolve shredding and dispersing on your floor under the weight of your words. Your voice nearly cracks with desperation— you need it as badly as he does.

“Get on your knees.” You blink at him, your fingers trailing down his toned chest before nodding and obeying his command readily. Joel was always a giver— always spending hours on you and you alone, and he fucking loved it— but tonight you had all but begged him to take. Lose a little bit of that control he clings so tightly to, watch the tension loose from his shoulders as he forgets about everything but you.

You trail your lips along his lower stomach as you sink to your knees, eyes never leaving his— ones that have practically turned onyx black as he watches your path, chest rising and falling rapidly. He moves his leg before you hit the ground, and it’s not until your bare knees settle into something a little softer than hard wood floor that you realise he’s kicked his shirt under you.

Even when he acted the part of hating you— he never stopped thinking of you.

Your fingers shake as they fumble with his belt, Joel making no move to help you as you struggle with the loops. When you finally break it free, Joel’s hand reaches down and threads your hair through his fingers. His thumb trails the highest point of your cheekbone, and your eyes flutter as you involuntarily nuzzle into his touch. It’s comforting and warm, and the intimacy of him knowing how you like to be touched even on your face has your cheeks burning. You think you catch him smile at you, and then your focus snaps back to the sight right at your eye-line when you pull his boxers and jeans down in one go.

“Missed your cock, Joel. Fuck.” You are nearly mesmerised at him in front of you, words spilling out as he stands in front of you completely naked while you remain fully clothed. He groans, head rolling back as you wrap your hand around his base.

“I bet you did. Can remember how loud you used to be— I fucking loved that.” Even if the compliment is purely physical, compared to how little you’ve gotten from him it boosts your ego through the roof. You can’t wait any longer, wrapping your lips around the tip of his straining cock. “That’s it, darlin’.”

You don’t tease him, but you do start slow. Despite how much you want to suffocate on him, have him fuck out any of that hate he’s still holding so he can’t think of anything but your mouth, you know he likes it to start slow. It’s like he’s denying himself, even here, that he doesn’t deserve the instant gratification. Like he wants to suffer through it first— a little bit of pain to accompany the overwhelming pleasure that follows.

“Fuck, you’re good. Just like that.” He praises, his hand sneaking back to the nape of your neck. Not pushing, but instead gathering your hair and using his fist as a make shift ponytail. “Missed your mouth.”

“Mm?” You make a muffled noise, hoping to God he keeps telling you how much he missed any part of you. Like he dragged through the last few weeks as poorly as you did. You were already fizzling in your stomach, your thighs clenching together with every swirl of your tongue around the head of his cock.

“Thought about you every day. Every— fuck. Nothin’ gets me off like you. Ha-ah, shit.” You take him to the back of your throat, gagging a little but loving every choked sound sound that stutters out of Joel’s mouth. “Had to fuck my fist thinkin’ about your pretty little face. Fuckin’ hated myself for it.”

You speed up, wanting nothing more than for him to yank you upwards and bend you over the counter, but you’ll take what you can get. The salty taste of him mixes on your tongue, and it’s always so messy giving him head, but he goes feral for it. He’s watching you now, the words punched out of his chest as you move your hand to match your mouth, and you know the tears in your eyes and strands of hair across your face just send him wild.

He says your name how you remember, with all the sweet and drawn out inflections his accent gives it. You take him deeper, indulging a low and dormant urge to please him clawing it’s way to the front of your brain. He groans again, the hand at the back of your head pressing just slightly— a sign he’s losing that last bit of self control.

“Fuck— stop, baby. Stop.” He splutters out, and you draw yourself back slowly. He keeps his hand in your hair, looking down at you possessively. His chest is moving rapidly, trying to catch his breath from where you had him so close. Your eyebrows furrow, confused as to why he didn’t let you do the one thing you really wanted to right now. Make him feel good.

“What’s wrong?” You say softly, and he hauls you upward, barely giving you time to find your footing before he surges forward and kisses you.

It nearly knocks you off your feet, the hunger behind it making you stumble a few steps to where you know the bed is. He wastes no time, tasting himself on your tongue and taking you with him down onto the mattress. He pulls your shirt off first, kissing his way down to where your hips are still covered by sweat pants.

It’s here he takes his time, watching you writhe with impatience as he slowly draws the fabric down. He kisses your hipbones as they are revealed, the gentle touches making your head spin. He was meant to hate you— meant to be fucking you hard and fast just one more time to get it out of his system, so that you felt like what you two had could end on some kind of high. You owed him that much.

But this? The way his hands were so soft and gentle— practically caressing along your sides and over your thighs. The care behind his movements, the way he looked at you… it wasn’t how you used to fuck. This wasn’t hard and dirty, not scratching an itch or quenching a thirst— this had something more behind it. You knew it, and by the way he smiled over you, he did too.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He whispers against your skin, the rough hair on his cheeks tingling the softness of your inner thighs. He says it quietly, like you weren’t supposed to hear it, but you do, and your body floods with heat.

“Joel.” You whimper, your underwear dragging down your legs before he crawls back up your body. “Joel, I’m sorry.”

“I know, baby. Just focus on me, okay?” You feel him against you, the head of his cock dragging up and down causing your hips to twitch every time. “You always get so wet from doing that, don’t you?”

“Just from you. It’s just you, Joel.” You whimper, and his face crumbles in front of you. He bends to kiss you again, the air in your lungs sucked out leaving you breathless. He’s handling you with such care— like he still does. Care.

When he pushes into you, you both sigh, Joel dropping onto his forearms caging you under him. He tucks his head into the crook of your neck— teeth dragging along your collar bone with each slow thrust.

“You always feel so good. Can’t live without this, baby.” He’s almost whining, grinding into you with so much strength you hear the bed creak with each move. He’s reaching every nerve you have, crackling each one with a searing pleasure that’s only ever associated with him.

“N-neither. Please— please, Joel.” You beg for something, anything he’d give you, and his head moves to press his forehead to yours. His hips stutter, eyes half lidded but focused on you.

“Don’t leave. I’ll… god, so good. Don’t go.” He fucks you a little harder, like he’s trying to prove a point. Trying to convince you— but he doesn’t have to.

“Come with me.” You whisper, hands threading into his hair. You tug hard, making him groan.

“Baby.” He says lowly, voice grating and strained. Every thrust of his hips hurtles you closer to release, one of his hands snaking down your body to circle your clit. You can’t talk anymore, the only noises you can make are loud moans followed by choked out versions of his name. “Fuck— fuck, I can’t last. I can’t..”

You squeeze your eyes shut, pleasure rolling over you from your fingertips to your toes, the weight of Joel’s body keeping you firmly secured on the mattress. It’s like the heavy press of his warm skin multiplies the feeling, nails digging into the flesh of his back.

Your orgasm sneaks up on you, and it only takes a few more strokes of Joel’s cock and he’s cumming with you, both of you clinging to each other as you try to draw out the others high. Even when you’re supposed to be fighting, each of you are doing anything and everything for each other.

Joel still feels warm above you, keeping himself inside as long as he can stand before he pulls out slowly. You whimper from the loss, but he shuts you up with a deep, desperate kiss. It’s lazy and meaningful— teeth and tongues clashing from how hard he’s pressing on top of you.

Both of you are sweaty and out of breath, but neither can find the strength to pull your mouths away from each other. You know once you do, it was meant to be over— but it couldn’t be. There wasn’t going to be a version of this story where you missed out on the only good, real thing you’ve had in a long time just because you didn’t have the guts to repeat yourself. You pull back from his mouth as hard as it is, and he groans a little in frustration of having to chase you.

“Joel…” Your hands find their way up to his face, holding him so close that your noses bump together. “I meant it. Come with me.”

“Darlin’, I gotta… Tommy needs me to find him. I…” He looks you up and down again, eyes catching on the little hickeys he’s left over your chest and neck, and you think he might be considering the possibility of leaving everything behind and just following you despite it.

But you’d never ask him to. You had this thought out— and if he’d just listened to you the first time, he would already know.

“I know. We can find him. The pills— I’m trading it for a full tank of gas for a car I repaired. It’s just outside the safe zone.” He shifts up, thighs still straddling over your waist. “We can find him, find my family.”

“You fixed a… of course you did. Fixed a fucking car right under their nose.” He shakes his head, laughing before leaning down and smothering you in a suffocating kiss. He’s still smiling when he pulls away, tucking your body into his chest. “Jesus. You’re unbelievable.”

“I would of told you.” You say, not having the nerve to look up at him. “That night— I tried to tell you. We have people that need us, but I need you, too.”

“Mm.” He says, burying his face into your hair. You can feel the smile in the way he hums, his hands grabbing at your sides and holding you closer. “Need you, too.”

“What was that?” You try to turn and look up at him, a teasing smirk on your face but he doesn’t let you. “The Joel Miller— needs me?”

“Need your car.” He grumbles and you laugh harder, your legs tangling together in a comforting knot of limbs. “When do we leave?”

“When you get the pills.” He hums again.

“Tomorrow. I’ll get ‘em tomorrow.”

“Oh, you fucking asshole. You were getting them the whole time, weren’t you?” He still refuses to let you move, strong arms keeping your bodies together. He doesn’t say anything, just laughs and nods before his breathing starts to slow.

You wanted to turn and see his face when he said that— that he needed you. But as you feel him go limp behind you, you figure you’ll get enough time to stare at his face when you drive across the state to get Tommy, and whatever comes after that. You might not know what comes next, but whatever it is, you feel a hell of a lot better knowing it’ll be with him.

#joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #tlou joel #joel miller x y/n #tlou #tlou joel miller

[writerracha]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ forgot something? — bang chan x female reader

↻ 1.4k :: established relationship :: cw. sex toys. protected sex.

↻ 18+ :: not proof read, pls be kind :: masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

“Babe, can you come here for a sec?” 

“Be right there!” 

A few seconds later, you put down your phone, walking over to your bedroom where your boyfriend is waiting for you. He’s standing next to your bed, a smirk on his lip. You frown and you’re about to ask him what’s going on when you notice it. 

Your vibrator. Right there, on the top of your bedside table, for all to see. You plugged it in that morning to charge it and forgot about it, not thinking about the fact that Chan was coming to see you tonight and he would surely notice. 

You gasp, eyes widening, and your attempt at defending yourself only comes out in undecipherable whimpers. “I’m… fuck, oh my god, I’m sorry, I totally forgot about it…” You hurry over to hide it, but Chan catches you before you can reach it, drawing you in his arms. There’s an amused smile on his lips, a light in his eyes. 

“Why are you sorry?” he asks. “I don’t mind it at all.” 

“Y-you… you don’t?” 

You frown. You and Chan have not been together for a long time, and while you’ve been having fantastic sex, there are still things you are shy to talk about. Your previous partners did not even know you had a vibrator, and the only one who did hated that you used it. 

“Of course not,” Chan chuckles, placing a kiss on your forehead. “I like it. It looks like fun.” He raises an eyebrow. “Did you use it last night after we talked?” 

You blush, your arms around his waist, your fingers playing with the material of his hoodie. “No, it was this morning…” 

“This morning, huh? What did you think about?” he asks, leaning in to kiss your neck. 

The contact of his lips on your skin makes you shiver, and you close your eyes in delight. Ever since you have met him, you can’t get over Chan’s lips. They are just so smooth, so soft, kissing you in all the right ways whatever the part of your body they’re touching. 

“Y-you,” you admit. “Lately it’s always you.” 

Chan smiles against your neck. “I like that. What do you think about, huh? Tell me about it, babe.” 

“Hm, it depends,” you say, eyes closed. It’s difficult to focus because Chan’s fingers are slipping under your t-shirt, touching your stomach, gently massaging your tits. “Sometimes it’s you eating me out… Sometimes you’re fucking me…” 

He teases your nipple and you let out a moan. 

“Channie…” 

“You like thinking about me fucking you, huh? You’re such a naughty girl.” 

You grasp his hoodie as his hand slides down your pajama pants to cup your cunt over your panties. 

“Can I use your vibrator on you, babe?” he whispers in your ear. “I want to hear the sounds you make when it’s making you cum. Then I can think about it when we’re not together…” 

You just hum in response, because Chan’s fingers are teasing your folds and you can’t think about much. He slips a finger under your panties, circling your clit. You’re getting wet, and his erection is pushing against your leg.

“Babe, answer me…” 

“Yes, Chan, please,” you breathe.

In a swift move, Chan brings you into his arms, and he lays you down on your bed, removing your pajama pants but leaving your underwear on. You stay in your oversized t-shirt, which he draws over your tits to give them a few licks. You writhe against him, your hands palming his cock over his sweatpants. Chan grunts, drawing your hand away. 

“Let me take care of you,” he tells you. 

You pout, although a little timidly, and Chan laughs, giving you a soft kiss. He reaches for your vibrator, unplugs it and glances at it. The only light in the room comes from a small lamp, so you’re worried he can’t figure it out, but he lays his body over yours, activating the toy easily. It starts to vibrate against your hip, and Chan playfully draws it on your thigh, drawing it closer to your aching cunt before moving it away. 

You whimper in frustration, and he chuckles. 

“So this is what you use when I’m not here, huh? This is what is making my girl feel good?” 

You nod, pulling at his t-shirt, and Chan helps you remove it. You like to feel his skin against your hands, tracing the defined muscles of his chest and shoulders. As the vibrator finally makes contact with your cunt, you gasp and grab Chan’s arms. 

“Hmm, yeah? That’s it, babe.” 

Chan moves the vibrator over your panties, making you breathe erratically. Your climax is building quickly because you are used to the sensation, but not to someone else using the toy on you. Chan keeps kissing your skin, his cock pressed on your leg. 

“Fuck, yes, babe, you like this, huh?” 

“Yes, Chan, fuck…” 

“How about this, now?” 

He pulls your underwear down and pushes your vibrator directly against your wetness. You let out a louder moan, digging your fingers into his skin, arching your back. 

“Fuck, babe, you sound so hot,” Chan says, breathing hard in your neck. “Are you cumming?” 

“Y-yes, fuck, don’t stop…” 

Chan starts to flick his wrist slowly, and that is enough to make you cum fiercely. Your body starts to shake, and you get too sensitive so you push the toy away. Chan places his forehead against yours, breathing out. He turns off the vibrator, leaving it somewhere on the bed. Your body is covered in a light layer of sweat, your cunt still throbbing from your orgasm. 

Chan kisses your cheek, his thumb caressing your hip. “Was that good, babe?” 

“Yes,” you smile. “But I want more… I want you.” 

“Yeah?” he breathes, pulling down his sweatpants, his cock springing on your thigh, hard, the tip leaking. “Look at how hard I am. You did that to me…” 

You reach for his cock, smearing the pre-cum on it. Chan’s eyes flutter closed, long sighs escaping his lips. You rub your hand on his length, letting him fuck your hand for a few seconds before you direct it to your entrance. 

“I want to feel your cock inside of me,” you whisper in his ear.

Chan nods, hurrying to put on a condom. He fills you slowly and you lift your legs up so he can enter you deeper. He grunts loudly - you love how vocal he is in bed. 

“That feels so good, babe,” he growls. “You’re still so wet and warm from when you came… Fuck, how does my cock feel?” 

“You’re so big, Channie, you’re stretching me…” 

“Fuck, that tight cunt is driving me crazy.” 

You bite your lip, kissing his jaw, his neck. He starts to pound into you, whispering things in your ear, and you let him fuck you as he likes it. He knows just how to hit the right spots, and soon you feel another orgasm build. His thrusts are sharp and fast, and you moan his name, your head falling back into the pillow. 

“Chan, fuck!” 

“Look at me, babe,” he tells you, his voice low and sharp. You open your eyes to meet his, his disheveled hair, his sweaty chest, his large hands holding your thighs apart. “Now look at how well your cunt is taking my cock…” 

You look down, watching his length disappear inside of you, and it’s such a hot sight you feel yourself clench. Chan growls, and he extends his arm to your right. You don’t understand what he’s doing before you hear the familiar sound of your vibrator. He pushes it against your clit again and you cry out. 

“Fuuuuck,” Chan breathes out. “I can feel it…” 

You’re losing it, overwhelmed by Chan’s cock inside you and your toy making your whole body tremble. He travels the vibrator over your soaked folds, and you cum quickly, closing your eyes tightly. 

“Shit, fuck -” 

The vibrator ends back on the sheets as Chan sinks deeper inside of you. You feel him cum, his cock twitching inside your walls. He stays inside of you, breathing slowly. Your entire body is sensitive, and you can’t even bring yourself to move.

“I’m so glad you forgot about your vibrator,” Chan says after a few seconds, his voice raw and sleepy. 

You chuckle, stroking his hair. “Me too.” 

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

asfhasf pls be nice this is my first fic here!! i hope its not too bad :// ... thank you for reading ♡ if you liked this, please consider leaving a comment in the tags or in the replies, or even writing me a message!!

#bang chan smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #bang chan x y/n #bang chan x female reader #skz smut #skz x reader #skz x you #skz x y/n #skz x female reader #stray kids smut #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids x female reader #stray kids x y/n #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #bang chan imagines

[sxcret-garden]

Keeho ღ 7:38pm [M]

ღ P1Harmony Keeho x fem-bodied!reader ღ words: ~1.3k ღ genre: smut (unprotected sex) ღ warnings: none

You’re breathing heavily as you’re sitting on top of your boyfriend Keeho, supporting yourself with your hands placed on the bed on each side of his torso, when the last aftershock of your orgasm courses through your body. He too is panting, but not as hard as you. He sits up slowly, and you feel him giving your hips a gentle squeeze with his fingertips as he bumps his forehead into yours. He captures your lips in an open mouthed kiss that doesn’t last as long as you would’ve wanted it to, due to both your need for air.

“Let’s do it again,” he breathes against your skin, his mouth traveling down your jaw and your throat. You merely make way to give him access to wherever he wants it by leaning your head back, and within a second you feel one of his hands at the back of your neck to support you. 

“Again…?” you mumble. There is no strength left in your voice, nor in the rest of your body. You two have been going at it since sometime in the afternoon, and it must be well past dinner time now. At some point you have lost count of the amount of times he’s made you cum today, but you faintly recall the words he sent you per text in the morning. That he’s going crazy without you, and that he would make you feel better than anyone ever could later on. He did keep that promise, your blissfully exhausted and fucked out state says as much.

“Yeah,” Keeho mutters. “I could go one more round.” You steal a glance at his face. Dark pupils behind narrowed eyes are reflecting nothing but pure lust and deep passion, while his messed up hair and the drop of sweat running down his forehead are proof of how long you’ve been doing this. “You don’t want to continue?” he asks as he pulls you closer, letting you rest your head on his shoulder for a moment before burying his face in your neck. 

“No… I do,” you speak, and with a regretful look you add, “I’m just getting a bit tired.” He scatters kisses up your neck, his lips never leaving your skin even when he speaks.

“Then leave things to me,” he hums. “I’ll make you feel good.” With that, he flips your positions around, quickly but carefully, and slips his hands under your shoulders to hold you close as his puffy and reddened lips leave a trail of kisses down your sternum. You merely do what he asked of you - you let him take care of you and you enjoy the tingly sensations rushing through your body that’s filled with warmth and electricity from all the previous rounds. You comb the fingers of one of your hands loosely through his short hair, and when you feel his teeth graze the skin on your chest you involuntarily tug at the strands while letting out a weak moan. He comes back up eventually, and as he starts sloppily rolling his hips against yours you can feel that his cock has started going hard again inside of you. You whine at him, and then say,

“I can’t believe you’re still horny…” Almost as if wanting to punish you for that remark, he brings his lips to your neck, biting down on the skin just below your earlobe. 

“I can’t help it,” he answers, his voice deep and husky, “not when you’re this perfect.” Just then, when he finishes speaking, he thrusts into you with more impact, making you shut your eyes and cry out in pleasure. When you look at him again, you can see the ecstasy painted all over his face, and he repeats the same thing once more. You cry out with little control over your voice left - you can’t help it. Your body has become so sensitive by now that you feel every single one of his touches much more intensely than you would usually.

“I love it when you sound like that,” Keeho mutters, never taking his eyes off you, hungry to know what expressions he can cause to appear on your face as you’ve long given up control over your body. “Call my name next time, baby.” It’s not hard for you to follow his instructions, especially when he’s the only thing you see, feel, taste, think about. Besides, you’d do anything he’d ask of you in this state, trusting that in the end it would only bring more pleasure to the both of you.

He reaches behind himself and helps you wrap your legs around his hips, putting you in a position that would make it easier for him to hit that special spot deep inside of you. And then he takes your hands into his, intertwining his fingers with yours as he pins them against the bed above your head, and he starts rolling his hips into yours at a steady pace. With every time he pulls almost all the way back out, making you feel a sense of deprivation, and every time he thrusts back in with the strength he has left, an uncontrolled sound escapes your mouth. And every single time you try to focus on calling his name along with your moans, until eventually it’s all that’s falling from your lips. Palm against palm and chest against chest, he picks up on speed, and the faster he goes, the louder his groans become.

“Fuck… Y/N…” Curses in between repeating your name over and over again escape him, and his moans reach your ears. He too has long given up on trying to bite back those sounds, allowing both of your voices to fill the room as you sense your next high approaching. 

“Don’t stop… please, don’t stop,” you beg as you close your eyes, focusing on nothing but the way he makes you feel as he fucks you and the desperate sounds coming from both of you. And then, eventually, you tumble over the edge for the n-th time today, crying out in pleasure as you feel your walls contract around his cock, while your whole body shakes underneath him, being restrained only by his weight on top of you. When your high subsides and you’re left with a clouded mind and an overstimulated body, you hold your breath for a few seconds, until Keeho cums inside you with a lengthy groan and his movements come to a halt. He collapses on top of you after wrapping his arms around your naked body tightly, skin on skin, careful not to crush you under his weight completely. 

Neither of you says anything for a while, both only focused on catching your breath, and with how the air around you slowly seems to settle down and cool off, it feels like this really was the last round for today. 

“Let’s go shower,” your boyfriend eventually speaks up, his voice raspy and kept low right next to your ear.

“Sure…” you respond briefly, but you’re not planning on getting up yet. Instead, you bring your face closer to his, and you scatter a few kisses from his cheek down to his jawbone. Eventually, you add, while lazily slurring the end of each word, “Only if you carry me.” A soft laugh escapes your boyfriend, and he grins at you, before he responds,

“Alright. Give me just a minute.” Then he lifts his body up off yours a tiny bit, and next thing you know his lips are connected to yours in a soft, lingering kiss. 

#p1harmony smut #p1h smut #keeho smut #p1harmony x reader #keeho x reader #p1h x reader #p1harmony imagines #p1harmony scenarios #p1harmony drabbles #keeho imagines #kpop smut #smut

[arachine]

. . . 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 ! ˚₊✩‧₊

— pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

general tags: college! au, established relationship, fluff, suggestive

content warnings: period cramps, reader is a baby, ellie is patient, kissing, allusions to sex, brief mention of dealer!ellie + not proofread and also not my best work bc i was in pain !

note: this is super self-indulgent bc i am, unfortunately, on my monthly, and so, i am making it everyone’s problem >.<

ellie’s annoyed. actually, she’s concerned—maybe, slightly, kind of more than that too, but right now, she’s annoyed. this wasn’t like you—not answering messages, not answering calls.

she’d understand it if you were busy, especially since finals season was steadily approaching as the days passed, but she knew you didn’t have any plans today. that much was confirmed the last time she’d spoken to you, which was, if she could recall (she could recall it perfectly), last night at 8:00 p.m.

future wife 👰‍♀️: gn baby, see you tomorrow for breakfast! get some sleep ok? <33

ellie: alr goodnight baby. i’ll come get you at 9 ok? don’t oversleep this time, wanna get some french toast before all the athletes take it :/

future wife 👰‍♀️: never gonna let me live it down, huh?

ellie: never!

future wife 👰‍♀️: god alr, i won’t oversleep!!! promise :3 now gn fr this time!!! gts!!!

ellie: ok bossy i’m going to sleep 🫡 love you

that was the last message she’d sent to you that night. this morning, however, she made an effort to send you a slew of follow-up texts before making her way over to your dorm:

ellie: good morning sexy, you up?

ellie: it’s french toast time ☝🏻

ellie: don’t tell me you’re sleeping…

there was five minutes sent in-between each message, and yet, still no response. that’s when she got the bright idea to call.

“alright, this should wake her up,” she raised the phone to her ear, pacing around her apartment while waiting for the line to go through. to her dismay, it rung a few times before going straight to voicemail—to which she almost got excited over because you’ve got one of those annoying ass voicemails that sound like someone picked up the line.

“hey […], this is (name). sorry you can’t reach me right now, but leave a message and i’ll get back to you as soon as i c—”

“fucking hell.” ellie pinches the knot between her brows and sighs, ending the call before voicemail you can finish your sentence. again, she calls, thinking this time you’ll answer, but to no avail. it goes right to voicemail.

“the fuck…” she doesn’t even bother leaving a message. beelines right to her closet and grabs her sneaks, a hoodie, and her wallet, then heads out of her apartment building and begins the trek to your dormitory.

when she gets there, she buzzes in with her student keycard, and pads right up to the security desk. just as she’s about to open her mouth, one of the guards sitting interrupts her.

“can i see your proof of residence, please?” he says blankly, raising a fig bar up to his mouth.

“randy, really? you know me, i’m here almost every other day—just without my girlfriend—who i’m actually here to see,” she raises a finger, forearms leaning forward over the desk. randy feigns indifference, and opts to stuff the last of his bar in his mouth.

“you’re not a resident here, ellie. sorry, but you know the rules.”

“how about you shove the rules up your a—actually, that’s alright. my buddy right here will sign me in as a guest.” she grins devilishly at the dark haired man across the lobby, blinking once, twice, before flashing him a smile.

“jesse! my life saver, my best-friend, my messiah, my—“

“what do you want, ellie?” he rolls his eyes, pulling out his student keycard to flash randy. ellie purses her lips as if she’s been found out, then pulls jesse aside by the cloth of his jacket. she leans in real close so that what she says is out of earshot.

“sign me in as a guest and i’ll give you free weed during your next visit,” she bargains, wiggling her brows like she knows the offer is too good to pass up. jesse doesn’t answer her right away. instead, opts to tease her. puts his index finger on his chin, and opens his stance as if he’s really mulling it over. ellie’s not impressed.

a beat, then, he shrugs, mumbling a quick ‘better keep your word williams’.

ellie grins, something real big and cheshire-like, because she knows him. who’d be stupid enough to pass up free weed? exactly, no one. especially not a stressed college student, that’s for sure.

“thanks man, you’re really doing me a solid, you know,” she pats his back, to which he mutters a knowing ‘yeah, yeah, whatever’. she watches intently as he signs her in under his name, then makes a face at randy when she hands over her student keycard for him to keep.

“see ya later rand’!” the auburn haired girl says with the flick of a hand, turning the corner of the desk to get to the elevators.

“yeah, whatever.”

. . .

once the elevator comes to a halt on your floor, ellie gives jesse a final thank you before departing. as she walks down the winding hallway, she can’t help but to think the worst. what if you were unconscious? what if you’d been axe-murdered? what if you’d been kidnapped? all very unlikely, she knows, but not impossible.

when her mind sifts through a few more frightening scenarios, she realizes she’s already made it to your door. should she knock? she feels like she should knock, but then she figures if all her previous attempts to wake you up were unsuccessful, then who’s to say a few measly knocks would do the trick?

she decides against it. instead, she unhooks her carabiner from her jeans and fiddles around with her set of keys until she finds the spare you’d given her. until now, she’d never used it. the day you’d given it to her, you’d told her it was strictly for ‘emergencies’, and what better time to use it than now? this was surely an emergency, right?

the door unlocks and she immediately goes to twist the knob, pushes the door open and then shuts it closed behind her.

“babe, you here?” she calls out, walking through the kitchen, “you alive?” turns down the hall, “you in one piece?”

a beat. silence—save for the heavy padding of her boots as she makes her way towards your bedroom. the door is cracked open, just by a sliver, but she can see—or at least somewhat make out—the beginnings of a sleeping silhouette.

she pushes the door open and ambles to your bedside. you were fast asleep. curled up into a tight little ball with the duvet pulled up to your chin, and a mean little pout on your lips. it was adorable, and it made ellie’s heart twang with relief. at least now that she was able to verify your safety, she could forget all those terrible thoughts that she was getting herself all worked up over.

“hey, sweet girl,” she cooed, brushing the pad of her thumb over your cheek. your brows cinched in response, but you didn’t move. not even an inch. “baby,” ellie drawled in a sing-song voice.

she let her hand fall from your cheek to your back, and she rubbed it in slow, steady circles in an attempt to rouse you. after a while of this—a combination of her rubbing and cooing—you started to react.

“mmm,” you groaned, curling your knees up higher, “it hurts.”

“what hurts? what’s wrong?” opening your eyes, you were able to pair the voice of concern with a familiar face.

“ellie? what are you doing here?”

she lets a small chuckle escape her lips, then raises a hand to rest atop your head.

“what am i doing here? what are you doing here? had me worried sick about you,” she smooths a hand over your head, “missed our breakfast date.”

sighing, you slap a clammy hand over your head, then reach over ellie to grab your phone from the nightstand.

ten messages. three missed calls.

“god, i’m sorry, bellie. took some midol and melatonin last night so that i could beat these cramps, but i guess they worked a little too good, huh?”

“yeah, you nut.” she takes a glance at your nightstand and picks up the bottle of pills, shakes them around before settling them back down. “how many did you take?”

“just two…maybe three?” ellie’s eyes widen in disbelief.

“three? babe, these are 500 mg. why would you do that? the bottle says take two every six hours, and here you are taking more than the recommended amount, on top of taking melatonin,” she chides, though, it’s more out of genuine concern than it is her actually being upset.

you laugh at your own expense, but it’s short-lived because a second later, you’re clutching for your belly and writhing in pain.

ellie sighs, kicks her boots off and fully climbs up onto the bed and under the covers. once she settles into a comfortable position, she pulls you into her side.

“i know, baby, let me take care of you,” she strokes your back soothingly, “but next time, please don’t take that much. were you planning on sleeping forever?”

“maybe.” you jest, snuggling further into her warmth. admittedly, mixing both of those drugs was kind of stupid—maybe really stupid, but in your defense, you were in pain!—and really desperate. when you have cramps this bad, sometimes death sounds like mercy.

“oh, yeah?” the laugh she lets out is a deep rumble, and you can feel the vibrations of it as you lay on her chest. it’s soothing. a remedy that you should’ve utilized sooner, and you would’ve, had you been in the right headspace.

“mhm…” you purr, looking up at her, at her lips. ellie scans your face for pain, then dips down and pilfers a kiss from your lips. it’s slow, and sweet, and ends far too soon for your liking. before she can pull away, you tug her by the collar of her shirt. look up at her with pleading eyes, and fist it tighter between your knuckles.

“more,” you drawl, pulling her back down to meet your lips. she indulges you, because of course she does, and pushes you onto your back.

“thought,” a kiss, “your,” another, “cramps were bothering you?” she queries, breathless as she holds herself up above your sprawled out body. she thumbs with the hem of your shirt, waits expectantly for you to answer.

“they are,” you say, “so why don’t you make ‘em go away?”

and what kind of girlfriend would she be if did otherwise?

© arachine 2023

#:: — LEXI WRITES ! #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x reader fluff #ellie williams fluff #ellie william x you #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams

[gigabyte-flare]

Animals

Summary: Leon comes back home to you with one thing on his mind.

Pairing: Vendetta or ID!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Word Count: 889

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. You are solely responsible for your own content consumption. This work is not for minors, 18+ only

Warnings: breeding kink, rough sex, Leon's very aggressive in this but like the good kind of aggressive, impregnation, swearing, light choking

A/N: Decided to write up a one shot to hopefully jump start my brain so I can finish part 4 of There's No Escape. This is purely self indulgent but I hope you all enjoy it anyway! This is not proof read so please excuse any and all grammatical errors! This is lightly based on an audio by Nowhere Eternity!

It’s late in the evening, the sun just below the horizon as you stand over your kitchen sink and do the dishes from making dinner. Your boyfriend should hopefully be home soon, having just returned from some assignment for the D.S.O.. It’s been weeks since he’s last been home; you couldn’t wait to see him.

You hear him suddenly come through the door, “Babe, I’m home!”

Normally, he takes his time taking off his shoes and jacket, but you hear his heavy footsteps approach the kitchen at an alarming rate.

“There you are,” he growls, “c’mere.”

“Leon what are you--” you are suddenly cut off as his powerful arms wrap around your waist, burying his face into your neck.

“I’ve been thinking about you all fucking day,” he moans into your neck as he begins kissing up your neck.

“Leon, I’m trying to do the dishes…” you reply, still holding a pan in your hand.

“Put the fucking thing down,” Leon growls, his hands gripping onto your waist almost to the point that it was painful.

You immediately drop the pan into the sink, unsure and concerned about what on earth has gotten into Leon.

“Sweetheart.. Are you ok?” you ask hesitantly.

“I’ve decided…” Leon starts, you can hear him starting to undo his belt on his pants, “that you’re going to give me a baby.”

“I’m sorry, what?!” you reply, flabbergasted.

“I know you don’t think you’re ready, but I promise you… you are, baby.” he continues before burying his face back into your neck.

You arch your back into him, feeling his hard cock on your ass as you push yourself into him. You can hear him still undoing his belt.

“This… stupid FUCKING belt!” he growls before finally getting his belt off, “your turn, get these fucking pants down.”

Your wet fingers struggle to get your button undone on your pants when Leon’s fingers suddenly reach around, helping you get your pants undone, “there you go, baby, I got you.”

As soon as your pants are undone, he pulls them down along with your underwear. You can hear him stroking himself. He pushes you into the counter, forcing you to lean forward and push your hips back towards him as you feel his cock push against your drenched pussy. 

“Look at how wet you are, you want me to fuck a baby into you, I know you do…”

With one, hard thrust, he sheathes himself completely inside of you, causing you to yelp. You grip the counter as Leon fucks you relentlessly.

“I can’t wait to see your belly swollen with my baby inside you…” Leon purrs, his hands gripping your hips so tight that his fingers are leaving bruises on you, “you’re going to look so fucking beautiful…”

Unconsciously, you reach down to your clit and start to rub it, causing your legs to twitch as you let out soft moans. Leon’s hand grabs your wrist aggressively, pulling your hand away from your needy clit.

“Don’t you fucking dare, I want you to cum on my dick when I pump you full of my cum, sweetheart,” he growls. 

He picks up his pace, all you hear is the sound of his hips slapping against your ass along with his animalistic growls. Your eyes roll into your head as you moan his name like a prayer, begging for release. 

“Are you ready to be a mommy?” Leon asks, his right hand reaches up to grasp your throat, pulling you back towards him as he bites your ear.

“Y-Yes…!” you manage to cry out as Leon puts pressure on your throat.

“I can’t wait to kiss your growing belly…” he moans into your ear as he continues pounding into you, “on my way down to eat your pussy.”

You cry out again, tears streaming down your face from the overstimulation and raw emotion of it all. 

“Leon… I-I’m close…!”

“Cum with me baby, go ahead and rub that clit, sweetheart.”

You didn’t have to be told twice. You reach back down and rub circles into your aching core. After a few moments, you come completely undone in a mess of cries and moans with Leon’s name sprinkled here and there. You feel the hot sensation of Leon’s own release as he pushes himself deep inside you. You feel the head of his cock pressing into your cervix. He holds himself there, breathing heavily as his cock continues to twitch inside of you.

You start to shift your hips to have him slip out of you, but Leon stops you, “No. Let me stay inside you just a little longer…”

You both simply stand there, Leon’s arms wrapped protectively around your waist as you lean back, nuzzling into him, telling him how much you love and missed him when he was gone. Leon does eventually pull out, you can hear his seed drip out of you onto the kitchen floor. He pulls his pants back up, giving you a kiss on your cheek.

“Go ahead and finish up the dishes and meet me in the bedroom, sweetheart,” Leon says as he begins to walk away.

“The bedroom?” you reply, raising an eyebrow at him as you put your own pants back on.

Leon stops, turning to you to give you a devious smirk, “Yes. The bedroom. Because we have to do it again.”

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader smut #vendetta!leon kennedy #ID!leon kennedy #infinite darkness!leon kennedy #gigabyte writes

[dex0s]

Merman Getou x M Reader

⋆｡°✩!WEEK TWO - MONSTERFUCK! 𝄞

A/N ummm this is fucking embarrassing I thought I post this last week, ummm here I guess- NOT PROOF READ + I got lazy at the end *insert a good apology* like why didn’t you yell at me?! Fake all you fake 😭✊(male reader)

“te, mate~, MATE!” Shooting your eyes open too your right you see a male with a… fish tail. Long black hair with brown eyes and the a black tail. “What are you” you asked when backing up but you didn’t get to far due to the male grabbing you leg. “Well, I am Suguru Getou, and you my dear mate~” he answer while getting closer to your lips.

You quick pushed him away and stood up, “I think you’re confused.. you’re a um- I don’t mean to be rude but a fish or something along the lines of that and I’m a human being. With legs!” You pointed at quickly and all you get is a smile in return. “Um well I get I should get going-“Going where. This is where you will stay mate. He grabs your leg for a second time and brings you down to his level.

“I didn’t just go through the pain and suffering to going up to the surface and see all those monkeys just to get my mate only to find out that he’s already to leave me. No, no, no, that can’t happen dear” his arm slowly moves up your leg to your waist then he leans over to your ear and whispers. “Even tho mating season is not around I will still breed you like the good boy you are.”

You are shaken up from the threat that you just received, “I-I well how can you even do that I don’t even think fish have that type of body part.” You scarily talked out, “Well let me show you then” Getou said with a smile when him taking in your face for a kiss.

You try and move back but he puts his hand on the back of your head. He slowly wraps half of his tail (the full tail length is 6 feet) around your legs to ensure you’re stuck. Unlocking from the kiss and hearing your cry’s for him to stop.

Licking your tears away, he turns you over to your stomach (his tail is still around you but due to the mucus on the tail he can turn you around) putting his fingers in your mouth saying “suck them”. Now taking them out your mouth, sliding down his hand into your swim trunks, then shoving two fingers in your ass.

You let out a cry and Getou shh you up. “I know it hurts but soon it will be a pleasant feeling”. Soon you started to feel the pleasant feeling that Getou was talking about and moan, “See~ now continue moaning for me and you will get your award.”he added another finger.

You can feel a cock or two against your ass yet before you can ask he shoves the cocks in your ass while his fingers are still there. Screaming his name and Arching your back. Without warning Getou starts to pound you, “I-I never knew this is what you would feel like mate~” picking up the pace with you moaning like there’s no tomorrow.

You can feel Getou starting to get sloppy with each thrust and before you know it you can feel hot cum or in his words eggs fill your stomach. Slowly closing your eyes for can hear Getou whispering in your ear

We’re not even close to being done my dear mate~

#jujustsu kaisen x reader #male reader #yandere x reader #jujutsu kaisen #smut #geto suguru #getou suguru #geto x reader #geto smut #jjk geto #geto x male reader #yandere male x male reader #yandere x male reader #yandere male x reader #yandere #jujutsu geto #apologies #kinktober 2023 #kinktober

[dreamwatch]

STWG daily drabble

prompt: forehead kisses

(I’m trying some prompts out, and also - I wrote fluff! I actually did it! My cold, angsty heart is conflicted by this development.)

****

Wayne’s back feels like it’s splitting in two, muscles spasming, discs crunching. Years of hard labour and a car wreck after he came back from Korea (a little bit angry, a little bit reckless) and what else could he really expect? He was old, and all his chickens had come home to roost right in his lower vertebrae.

He hears the van before he sees it, wheels spitting up grit on the shitty excuse for a road, and then the bassy rumbling of loud music. Iron Maiden, if he’s not mistaken, and Jesus H Christ, he should not know that.

Eddie throws himself out of the van, and practically skips up the stairs, and oh to be fucking young. 

“Hey old man, what are you doing out here?”

“Drowning my sorrows,” he says, waving the beer and Eddie frowns, tilts his head.

“Why, what’s going on?”

“Just my back.”

“Bad?”

“Hmm.”

“Okay, give me a second.”

“Eddie, I’m fine, got a beer, I’m good.”

Eddie scoffs, “sure”, before he heads inside.

Trailers aren’t sound proofed. Every cough, every fart, your neighbour hears it and you hear them. So listening to Eddie on the phone just the other side of the door isn’t prying, it just can’t be helped.

“Hey man… yeah I’m good but Wayne’s not so I can’t make practice tonight… no, it’s his back so I want to be here incase he needs me…”

Wayne shakes his head. The shit people say about that kid, they have no idea who he is. He listens as Eddie hangs up then potters around the kitchen, drawers clattering, kettle screeching. His boy is so many things, but quiet sure isn’t one of them.

“Heads up, old man.”

Eddie takes a seat beside him on the porch, painkillers in one hand, glass of water in the other and a hot water bottle tucked under his arm. Wayne smiles, takes his pills while Eddie places the hot water bottle behind his back.

“That okay?”

And he can’t help it, but it strikes him how fucking proud he is of this kid, and alright, it’s a little thing, but still. He hears it all day long from the guys at work, complaining about their kids, how they’re selfish, how they don’t listen, and you know Eddie’s not an angel, and he’s not perfect, but he’s good, and he cares and he’s not afraid to show it if you let him.

Wayne gingerly raises his arm and pulls him in, hears him squeal “don’t kiss me!” He pulls him close, and lays an exaggerated kiss on Eddie’s forehead, and gets a “not in public, Jesus Christ,” for his efforts.

“You’re a good kid.”

“I know. You’re lucky to have me.”

He laughs, despite the pain in his back.

“That I am,” he says, squeezing his boy tight. “That I am.”

#Steddie #drabble #stwgdailyprompt #eddie munson #wayne munson #steddie ficlet