#to use the r-word back in the 90s

[mcondance]

come close; hobie brown

getting high and talking about anarchy with some old 90's shit playing is a crazy way to fall for someone. but it happens.

pairing hobie brown x Black!afab!fem! reader

contents lots of weed, different terms for weed (mary jane, cess), talks of killing politicians (y’all r both anarchists so.), masturbation (both you and hobie), making out, fingering, riding, missionary, mating press, creampie, unprotected sex (they're horny man dwbi), dirty talk, cervix kissing, lotsssss of praise, porn with plot (sorry i love plot 🙏🏾)

words 4.7k.. back on my longer fic shit!

warnings reader wears lipgloss, barely proofread so if you see any mistakes pls shoot me an ask!, umm i use the n word once!, i’m also,, not that great at writing his voice yet so.. hope it’s at least sorta accurate :3

extras the form i wrote this in is kinda,, unique igs but it flows rlly well i feel.

song shoutouts special thanks to lipstick lover by janelle monae, come close by common and mary j. blige, and green eyes by erykah badu!

signing off happy father’s day to hobie 🫶🏾

—

not quite plug!hobie, but hobie who always has weed, who you smoke with the first time you buy from him.

you usually don’t smoke with randoms, but you hear some old 90's rap playing from inside his car, and he invites you in when you comment on it.

"what you know bout this?" you ask with a smile.

"a lot, actually. you wanna smoke and listen?"

not quite plug!hobie who's fine as fuck as he sits opposite you in his ride, tall and darkskin with cool ass hair. wild ass accent and even wilder style, but he makes it work. his music taste adds on to his overall allure.

but his political views? god. the charm in the shape of a little 'a' surrounded by a circle hanging from his mirror lets you know that he ain't like these other niggas.

he's an anarchist. so far, you're the only anarchist you know. it's so rare to find someone who has the same values as you.

not quite plug!hobie who's car you leave with music recs clumsily typed into your notes, and someone to talk about politics with, though you're too shy to text the pretty boy with the good weed, so you're sure it'll never happen.

not quite plug!hobie who texts you when you get home to make sure you arrived safely.

"driving while high ain't safe, ya know? you at home?"

"i've done it before. i made it home."

not quite plug!hobie who's so nice to you, complimenting your outfits and hair, even noticing when you meet him the 3rd time with a new style.

not quite plug! hobie who you find out has been giving you discounts when your friends ask if you ever bought from him after their recommendation, and you run them in on the details. you think it’s just cause y’all smoked the first time you ever bought from him and you bonded over political views and music. you don’t think nothing else of it.

not quite plug!hobie who you find yourself thinking about more and more often, ever since that first time y'all smoked together.

not quite plug!hobie who finds himself in the same predicament.

not quite plug!hobie who answers the door on your 6th buy in a pair of red sweats and a tight white t-shirt that hugs his lanky frame, hair tied up with a blue shoe string. he invites you into his crib, citing reasons of having no one else to talk to about his views with. after all, it's the first time you both have time to sit and talk and listen to music instead of a quick deal since that first time.

not quite plug!hobie who you get faded as fuck with, this time sharing a joint on his janky couch, heavy hands brushing against each other with each pass. he tries to ignore the aching in his very core every time you speak your mind, your aligning politics driving him crazy.

you mirror him, shaking off the.. arousal?.. no, it can't be. you can't be getting all heated just cause a man is an anarchist. whatever. just ignore it.

not quite plug!hobie who laughs when you tell him straight up, “people aren’t killing politicians anymore. that’s our fuckin’ problem.”

"really? you're wild. but i get it."

"course you do." you nod, taking another drag of the joint. erykah badu's "green eyes" is playing quietly in the background of your convo. hobie starts laughing.

"what?" you smile.

"song's called green eyes, right? well we got red eyes." it's corny and wouldn't be funny if you two weren't high as shit, but you are high as shit, so it's fucking hilarious.

not quite plug!hobie who's eyes linger on you as he pulls laugh after laugh out of your chest with his snarky little jokes.

not quite plug!hobie who walks you to your car after your smoke session, telling you to get home safely. he passes out after his head hits the bed, that after smoke sleep being some of the best he's ever had. he tries to chase you out of his mind as he succumbs to the cess.

not quite plug!hobie who lights a joint and then pulls his dick out the next day, hard and heavy, and strokes it thinking about his pretty little client— friend? whatever — hips stuttering as he wraps his hand around his thick base. he's tried to shake you off, went all day distracting himself with this and that, but it's not working.

not quite plug!hobie who cums in white spurts splattering on his chest to the thought of making you cum in a room filled with smoke, some old r&b playin as he dicks you down the way he's been wanting to since the first time your pretty ass came to him asking for some weed. he wants you bent over on the end of his bed, eyes low and red while he fills you up and fucks you good, gives you his dick like he feels you so rightfully deserve.

not quite plug!hobie who you seriously can't stop thinking of. last night's smoke session has you on edge, so you light another joint, but weed always gets you horny, so when you slip your fingers into your panties and touch yourself to the thought of the pretty darkskin boy with the piercings and cool hair pushing his fat cock into your pretty hole, you blame it on the mary jane sitting pretty in your veins.

the fault lies in the mary jane for making you think about him laid on top of you, talking you through it as he damn near kisses your cervix, his wiry hands roaming your body. the fault lies in the mary jane for having your legs shaking, imagining your pretty plug folding you in half and ruining you, leaving you and your cunt sore and satisfied and dripping his cum.

not quite plug!hobie who cleans up while telling himself that he can't do this again, that you're not interested in him.

not quite plug!hobie who you block out of your mind as you shower. what you did wasn't right. it won't happen again.

not quite plug!hobie who you don’t buy from for a minute, cause you’re trying to stop smoking so much, for a while. you still keep in contact with him, though. daily texts, funny memes, and of course talks of anarchy. one day, you call him “bee” instead of hobie, and it sticks. he likes it.

not quite plug!hobie… who you fuck yourself to again, this time slipping three fingers inside your greedy cunt to satiate the need for him. it’s almost every night, and it’s a different fantasy every time. 

in the backseat of his car, bent over on his counter, pressed into his couch cushions. your head pressing into your pillows while visions of hobie’s lips pressed to your ear praising you endlessly for being his good girl and taking him so well torment you. you’re insatiable, but when you text you have to pretend like you don’t want his piercing scraping against your clit as he eats you like a man starved.

not quite plug!hobie who has the same dilemma as you.. he can’t even go a couple of hours without growing hard in his sweats, glimpses of you spread out on his bed with your thighs thrown over his shoulders, or you face down ass up, sobbing in pure ecstasy. it’s not made better by y’all’s constant texting, more and more of your personality being revealed to him each day.

you both share one brain, really. and that one brain finds each other attractive, of course, but it’s not just that. it’s not just pure lust. you two have more in common than anyone you’ve ever met, and that sinks ache and want so deep into you that every night and day is spent trying to rid yourselves of it.

not quite plug!hobie who you buy from again almost two weeks later, two weeks that were filled with funny conversations and deep discussions of politics through text. two weeks that solidify the growing feelings you have for each other. this time, he’s wearing a pair of blue sweats and a tight black tee, and his hair is tied up just like the first time you came to his house. this time, brandy’s playing throughout his crib.

you’ve only known each other for about two months, but it feels like longer, for the both of you. you take your seat on the couch as he grabs his stash and his papers, pulling out one paper to roll up.

not quite plug!hobie who sits a little bit closer than he did last time. he smells good. your head is swimming already. 

not quite plug!hobie who lights up and then lets you take the first hit, watching you wrap your glossy lips around the joint like he doesn’t wish they were wrapped around his dick instead. you pass the joint to him and settle onto the couch, raking your eyes over his lanky frame, and what you swear is a hard-on. no way. it has to be the weed. 

he settles back onto the couch too, extending his long arms on the back. his arm comes up behind your head, and you rest your head on it, smiling dopily when he directs his hazy gaze your way. his playlist must have ended. you're left with him and your thoughts.

“you’re funny, you know?” he says through a breath of smoke, passing the joint to you.

“yeah?” you reply, hitting it again. “everyone tells me i’m just corny.”

“you’re not corny. you’re pretty hilarious, if i’m bein’ honest.” 

and there it is again.

not quite plug!hobie whose words light that fire in you again, the fire that you’ve been dousing every night for the past two fucking weeks. fuck, not here. not now. you grab the joint from him in an attempt to push more weed into your system to flush him out, but you meet his pretty fuckin’ brown eyes and they’re low and his lips looks so good and he smells so good and suddenly you’re asking not quite plug who you’re two seconds away from fucking!hobie why he’s been charging you less than everyone else who buys from him and why he invited you into his car and into his house, twice.

and not quite plug who really wants to kiss you right now!hobie can’t even joke and twist his way out of this one. he’s tired of cumming alone to the thought of you. the worst you can do is leave. but the best? god, so many things.

“'s cause i think you’re pretty. n' i really wanna kiss you right now.”

“then do it.”

not quite plug!hobie who tastes like weed and chocolate. the hand that was resting on the back of the couch finds it’s way to the small of your back, fingers drawing nonsensical shapes into it. your hands find his knee and his neck as you press your lips into his. you slide closer to him, and then he’s using the hand resting on your back to push you into his lap, hands settling on your hips as you settle above him, your hands circling around his neck.

“how long?” you ask between kisses.

“since the day you walked up to my car.” he responds quietly, cheeks heating up with embarrassment. he’s quick to trap your lips again.

god, he is hard. and he’s big, you can feel him pressing against the inside of your thigh. you hold your tongue, figuring you could deal with that later. right now, you just need to get out what you’ve been keeping in since the day you two met and you spotted the little ‘a’ hanging from his mirror.

the kiss grows deeper and he grows a little less shy, starting to use his hands gripping your waist to grind you against him. heat floods you when you realize that he's pulling you onto his cock, pressing your cunt against him, separated by the fabric of his sweats and your shorts.

you find his rhythm, falling into the pattern of his soft pushes and presses, a gentle lull of bodies moving against each other that makes you even more comfortable than you already are. soft little groans escaping the both of you, mixing with the smoke and infatuation in the air.

he lets you move the way you want, lithe fingers tracing up your back, hovering over where your hair falls onto your neck. he keeps kissing you for a minute, seemingly frozen. but then he's pulling away to speak, "can i- can i touch your hair?"

you stop moving with a smile. you nod. "yeah. thanks for asking." you kiss him again.

"course, love." he nods, and then he kisses you again. his long fingers snake into your hair, gently and softly. he strokes his hands through your locks, in time with your kisses and the movements of your hips that have started again. hands migrating from his neck, sliding down his chest, laying flat-palmed. your fingers slide under his tee, curling and gripping to pull him ever closer to you.

not quite plug!hobie who could kiss you forever. you could too, but you want more. you need him. so you pull away just a little, murmur "can feel you against me." chills rack through him at your words.

"i know. 'm so hard, darlin'." he pushes his hips up just a little, drawing a muffled whine from you.

"been wantin' you so bad.." you trail off. hobie takes it upon himself to move his hands from your hair to the waistband of your shorts, eyes fixed on yours, watching your every move. you nod, giving him permission to snake his fingers into your shorts, fingers that are met with no resistance.

"no panties? did'ya plan this, doll?" he smiles, slim fingers exploring your wetness, doing what he can with the limited space.

"mhm." you shake your head. "'s more comfortable." he hums in agreement. he circles your clit with his middle finger, dipping towards your entrance to collect more slick. you push down against his fingers, causing him to have to crane his wrist to reach you.

"can we take these off? can't touch you the way i wanna." you blush, averting your eyes to focus on the hand that disappears into your shorts.

"yeah." you breathe shakily, standing up and letting hobie pull them down your legs, hands on his shoulders as balance. your shirt is long, and it falls down to give you some modesty. hobie throws your shorts somewhere behind you before he leans back, giving you space to sit back down.

he looks so fucking good, brown eyes staring at you like you hung the stars in the sky. he reaches out for you, pulling you back into his lap by your hips. his hand disappears under your shirt while his lips find yours again, exploring you more freely this time.

"so wet, doll." he murmurs between one kiss and another, smiling when you whine. his fingers move at different speeds, pressing in different areas and circling at different speeds until he finds a combination that makes you jolt against him, whining "bee."

"thaaaaat's it, love." this time, you don't return your lips to his, instead tucking your head into his neck as you hump shamelessly against his hand, his cock pressing hard and heavy against your thigh. "keep going, baby," he urges, "show me how it feels."

and you do. you shiver and shake and whine and groan in pleasure, pressing kisses in his brown skin as he touches you the way he touched himself thinking about.

not quite plug!hobie who presses his thumb into your clit, sliding his hand farther down to tease your drooling hole. "'s wet, love. g'na feel so good 'round me." you moan loudly at that, at the thought of your fantasies coming true. you cant your hips down, sliding down his fingers until they're seated inside you, stroking gently at your sensitive walls.

pulling them out softly, he curls his fingers, twisting his wrist as you whine and mouth at his neck. "'s okay. you can bite." he nods, catching onto what you were holding yourself back from. you still don't, resign to licking and sucking instead.

until his fingers catch the spongy spot inside you, and your teeth are sinking into the column. "fuck," you damn near shout, pushing yourself onto his hand. he groans in response, pleased to be pleasing you and indulging in the pain you inflict on him. thumb on your clit and fingers playing with that spot, he brings his other hand from your hip to your hair to soothe you, to ground you.

it's sweet, really, his hand in your hair while the other one touches you the way you've been dreaming of. coos and hums meet your ears, soft sounds of affirmation egging you on to let yourself get lost in the pleasure he delivers you. arousal steadily dripping out of your hole, hobie's fingers sliding easier and easier inside you until he can pull out and slip right back in.

"you're so pretty, dove, fuckin' dreamgirl." he murmurs, staring down at your pretty face, arched eyebrows turned down in ecstasy, lips parted. the praise takes you closer and closer to the edge, his deep voice reverberating throughout your entire being, the pangs of arousal in your clit growing harder and faster. you're close.

you're so goddamn close to cumming for a boy you just wanted to buy from. his long fingers reach deep, deeper than you could ever even dream of. “hobie- i- i’m g’na-” you stutter against his neck, hips stuttering against his fingers.

“‘s okay, love, cum. i’m right here.” the rubber band snaps, and you're tightening your thighs around his hand while you shake and shiver, eyes closed tight with soft whines of "hobie, god it feels so good" tumbling from your lips. you tighten around his fingers, too, squeeze him so tight he winces, cause he just knows you're gonna feel so good wrapped around him. he pushes that thought away, though, focused on helping you ride out your orgasm.

fingers pressing into your clit and that spot inside you, he makes sure to milk every last second of your climax, eyes fixed on your ethereal features. aftershocks still racking through you, you finally open your eyes, and he takes it as a sign to gently pull his fingers out of you and wipe them on his sweats, and you shudder at the feeling.

"that was. . so much better than i imagined. n' i imagined it being pretty good." you smile and giggle, placing a kiss on his neck. he laughs in response, raising his eyebrows at your confession.

"bet i'm a better fuck than you imagined, too." the air in the room shifts again, and suddenly you're aware of his cock pressed against your thigh through his sweats again.

"bet you are."

you raise up, kissing him again as your hands find the waistband of his sweats and invite themselves in, meeting his dick that's been hard since you first sat down on his couch. "and i'm the one who planned this? you're free-balling." you murmur against his lips, and he mirrors your words from earlier.

"'s more comfortable, 's all— fuck." he's cut off when you pull his cock out of his sweats and run your finger over his pretty brown tip, dipping into his slit. his hips thrust up, chasing your soft hand. "g'na drive me crazy." he almost whines, jerking against you when you swipe your thumb against his aching tip again.

"just returnin' the favor." you shoot back, raising up to hover over him, swiping his leaking dick through your wetness. he wraps his hand around his thick base, moving in time with your teasing strokes. "you're big." you groan, hesitating to seat yourself on him.

"i know, doll, you can take it though. we'll make you take it." he speaks into your clothed chest, muffled and horny, and you’re sure he means what he says. you drip even more at his words, sticky slick wetting his fat tip.

not quite plug!hobie whose hands are on your hips as you sink down onto his pretty dick, whining into his neck as he encourages you. “you got it, baby, you’re takin’ me so well. god, she’s so wet.”

"she— fuck that's so hot," you moan, eyes rolling back at his words.

"mhm?" he hums.

you don't respond, too busy focusing on his fat cock pushing into you, focusing on the way you both make it fit, exactly like he said you would. finally, he bottoms out, your thighs resting against his sweats.

"g' job, babe. knew you could take me." you jolt against him, his heady words sending another pang of arousal straight to where you two meet.

not quite!plug hobie who you tell to move, raising your hips up as he pulls out, meeting him in the middle as he fills you back up. his hips slot against yours again, and his big chocolate eyes are fixed on yours, gazing upon you in adoration, while your eyes are fixed on where he disappears into you.

"so big, feels s'good. ." you whisper, meeting his gaze. the look in his eyes has chills running down your spine as you raise your hips again, choosing to connect your lips with his again. hobie starts to find a rhythm, now, wrapping his long arms around your waist. you swap spit with him as his hips meet your ass, taking over.

body bouncing with each of his thrusts into your pussy, arms wrapped around his neck. his lips slipping against yours, plump and wet. you both take it slow, basking in the feeling of finally being like this with someone you've wanted since you first saw them.

he fills you up so nicely, thick cock nestled in your achy walls, leaking tip just barely kissing your cervix as he thrusts just a bit harder and you push down a little more.

"y'feel me, darlin? 'm all the way in, at the end of you, god, 'm g'na make you mine." he babbles in pleasure, pushing his hips up even harder. still soft, but firm, and deliberate.

you nod against his lips, hand resting on his cheek. "feel you, bee, feel you in my fuckin' stomach, i swear." you feed off of him and he feeds off of you, kissing and slapping your hips against the others, wild and wanting. "fuckin' me so good, bee, makin' me yours."

"makin' me yours, doll, pussy's squeezin' me like she don't w'na let go."

"don't wanna let go, wan' you so bad." you confess, bringing your ass down onto his cock again. "i— fuck," you sob. his cock curves just right, and with his tip pressing against your spot now, hobie's found new determination.

"that it?" he asks, making sure to keep hitting that spongy patch of skin with every thrust, sheathing his cock in your wet heat.

"'s it, hobie, feels so good, shit." the high has worn off by now, leaving pure emotions and desire driving you two. you get tight around him again, cunt pulsing with every slam of his hips against yours. you feel so good around him, so tight and wet.

"'m g'na—, you're gonna make me cum, bee."

he moves one hand from around your waist at that, sliding between you two to toy with your clit, thumb rubbing wild shapes against the throbbing bud.

"fuck," you cry, grinding against his thumb and down onto his dick.

"you close again, doll? wan' you to wet me up, ma'me a mess," he encourages, big brown eyes fixed on yours like they've been the whole night.

"'m so close, bee, wanna cum for you, wanna wet you up."

"then do it." he mirrors your words from earlier, and the pleasure pulsing through your veins and infatuation swirling around in your blood gets to be too much, and you cum on his cock, still slamming your hips down onto him, meeting his thrusts in the middle. "thaaaat's it, doll." you hear hobie praise through the fog in your mind, bounces turned to messy grinds as you get all tight around him, cumming hard.

"y'alright, love?" he asks, moving your hair out of your face.

"mhm. w'na go again, you haven't come yet." he chuckles at your words, wrapping both hands around your waist and kissing you again.

"lay back, love." he murmurs against your lips, flipping you onto the couch. your back meets the smooth fabric as he lays you down, pulling his tee and his sweats off. you follow suit, stripping your shirt off and throwing it somewhere behind his couch. his watchful eyes fall on your face, then your tits, then your cunt, taking your body in for the first time.

he finds his place on top of you, balancing himself on his elbows as he kisses you again. he reaches down, but you stop him. "lemme do it," you urge, replacing his hand. you line him up with your sopping entrance, nodding twice to tell him to push in.

the stretch is so fucking good, his cock bullying it's way into your tight cunt again.

"fuck, that's it," he curses, watching your face as he seats himself in your once again.

"so deep. ." you trail off, looking down at your stomach, and oh fuck, no way.

"hobie, hobes, look," you urge, and he points his gaze to where you're looking.

"oh, love, look at that. can see myself, right there," he presses down on the bulge he creates, ripping a broken moan straight from your throat.

"fuck me, please," you sob, squirming under him. he nods, understanding, and finds his rhythm easier this time, lean hips slapping against you. your body jolts up the couch with every thrust, choppy whines of nonsensical sentences leaving your mouth.

not quite plug who's absolutely pussydrunk!hobie can't get enough of your cunt, the way you squeeze him oh so tight, the wet squelches of your heat drawing him further into madness. he needs to go deeper, needs to fuck you harder, so he raises up, throwing your legs over his shoulders, leaning back down to bury his cock deep inside you.

"baby, fuck." it's a gritted groan, head rolling back onto the couch as he mouths at your neck, licking and biting at your heated skin. his thrusts are slow and firm, dick kissing your cervix, the slaps sounding out through his living room.

you're both quiet this time around, too blissed out to do anything but fuck, allowing yourselves to succumb to pleasure. every inch of his cock fills you, driving you crazy, driving him crazy too. it's intimate, his lips on your neck, your fingers palming at his back, limbs tangled together. and you can feel it building up in you again.

"'m g'na cum, hobes." he moves one of his arms, bringing his thumb down to rub at your clit, still mouthing at your neck. he lets it happen this time, doesn't urge you or change anything he's doing, and you coast into your climax so gratifyingly that you almost cry, squeezing him tight once again. now, your focus is on making him cum.

"wan' you to cum, hobes."

"gotta pull out, love. we ain' even put a rubber on." he realizes.

"no you don't. 'm clean. jus' fill me up, please." in your right mind, you wouldn't let him, but you're not in your right mind, and neither is he. so he cums with a groan, shaking as he spills pressed against your cervix.

the air's.. different now, satisfied and calm. you both lay there for a while, until hobie's picking you up and carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up.

after, he lights another joint that you two share tucked under his covers, hugged up like a couple.

not quite plug!hobie holds you as you both fall asleep.

#hobie brown smut #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x black reader #hobie smut #hobie x black reader #hobie x reader #tw weed #ummmm yeah that happened #hope y'all like it #wrote most of this today :3 #OKAY TIME 2 POST

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Bolinus brandaris [S. R]

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

word count: 1.6k

and by public demand, part. 2

summary: Reid loves the gift you just gave him and the whole team can notice.

"Everyone ready to go back?" Gideon asked, taking a quick look at the jet to make sure all of you were there. You had an extortion case quite far from home, Miami to be exact, and you had a long flight back to Quantico, so the last thing he wanted was to forget someone.

Miami was a beautiful place that you would have liked to visit in other circumstances, that had nothing to do with crimes at all, since you had always felt a certain weakness for the warm climate, the sticky breeze, and the sound of the waves that were on the beach.

You had only had the chance to go to a mall to buy a new outfit, because yours had been completely ruined, while Morgan took advantage of the wait to buy an ice cream popsicle. It hadn't been a dream ride, but it was something at least.

“I feel like I could sleep for 90 hours straight,” you sighed, closing your eyes and falling into Spencer's side as usual. You two were the youngest, he was younger than you of course, so it was easier to connect with him than the other members of the team. You seemed to have similar interests and he was strangely comfortable with you.

“You would actually need to wake up periodically to expel fluids or you would risk bursting your bladder or even your bowels, because even though your digestive system shuts down when you sleep it only does so for a certain number of hours. Maybe you could sleep for 14 or 17 hours, which is what a baby sleeps, but 90 seems excessive to me even if you do not consume drinks or food before doing so”

"It's an expression, Reid" you laughed, but without the intention of making him feel bad for having answered you that way. Sometimes it was necessary to explain to him that you weren't being serious, as obvious as this seemed.

"You can sleep through the whole trip" he argued and although you still had your eyes closed you assumed that he had shrugged "I'll wake you up if you start snoring"

"I don't snore!" you defended yourself, playfully smacking him on the arm and hearing him laugh. Somehow watching him led you to remember a chain of events ending in the package you had carefully stowed in your bag and you almost jumped out of your seat the next second: "Wait, I just remembered something" you reported and went to the baggage area to rummage through your suitcase, taking just a few minutes to be back in your seat “I bought you this”

"Me?" he asked in disbelief. The others were on their own business enough to notice your conversation, making the moment a bit more private.

“I looked at it and just thought of you. Although I don't know if you're going to like it” you said shyly, handing him something wrapped in a paper bag with a store sticker on it. You had found the gift when you went shopping for your clean outfit and a part of you had been anxious all day to be able to give it to him to watch his reaction.

Reid looked at it curiously and handled it carefully, as if he were afraid it would fall apart in his fingers, until he managed to open it and took a piece of cloth from it.

"A scarf?"

“I saw you in one the other day and I thought you might like them. You know, you always wear your vests under your coats and your ties and you're always overdressed, but in a cute way” you laughed, while you pointed your hands at your body pretending to touch the pieces of his outfit "But it's okay if you don't want to wear it"

"No! I mean yes. I want to use it” he reassured you. Spencer held it out to look at it more carefully: it was purple, a stripe in the middle of patterned colored rhombuses intertwined with some embroidery of branches with leaves in black. "Did you know that the color purple is related to royalty because of how difficult it was to obtain the pigment before the Christian era? It is obvious that artificial dyes didn’t exist at that time, so everything they dyed the fabrics with had to be obtained from nature and that particular tone was quite difficult to obtain because it came from Bolinus brandaris, an extremely rare species of sea snail. To obtain 1 gram of this substance it is necessary to have 10,000 snails. And that gram was barely enough to dye a small piece. Its value and the difficulty in mass-producing it is due to the fact that the substance obtained had to be left to dry in the sun for a very precise time to be used later. Half a kilo of wool dyed in that color cost what would now be equivalent to around 300,000 euros,” he said, still holding the scarf as he rambled on. "It is also related to liturgical attire, it symbolizes power, wisdom, and is the perfect combination between the energy of red and the calm of blue”

“Oh yeah, I… I knew all that before I bought it, I didn't choose it just because I think purple brings out your eyes” you blatantly lied, making your friend laugh tenderly.

“What I meant to say is that I like it” he added, a little embarrassed by the smile and attention with which you had been observing him. You always did that when he wandered off, leaving him helpless and not knowing how to react.

"You said it has to do with wisdom, right?" you exclaimed and he nodded gently "Do you think there's some weird psychological reason why my brain knew that and linked it to you or was it just a coincidence?"

"Well, it's hard to explain..." he began to say, turning a little in his seat to be closer to you and begin a long explanation about the connections that our brain creates with things and people.

You were completely exhausted but you didn't have the heart to stop him from saying anything he had to say and you listened intently as much as your body would allow, until eventually you were lulled to sleep by the sound of Spencer's soft voice. When he stopped hearing your hums he realized that you had already fallen asleep and he moved your body carefully until you were completely reclining on the chair, so that when you woke up the physical pain of sleeping on the plane would be less. He, for his part, stayed in the seat next to you sheltered your rest, and at some point ended up asleep too.

The day after she came back from Miami, Spencer was already wearing the scarf you gave him. He had matched it with a brown coat, a vest in a darker shade of purple than the scarf, and a white shirt that together made him look perfect. Also, his well-brushed straight hair fell to the side and his tanned skin looked particularly clean.

You didn’t need to tell him anything because the smile you gave him when you looked him up and down was reason enough for him to be flattered and also proud to receive your approval. All day you watched him, a bit for the garment and a bit for the very pleasure of admiring him, and you noticed that he frequently checked that everything about him looked good, as if he was trying to impress you. Every time he spoke he avoided looking at you, only at you, but you couldn't take your eyes off him.

The day after that he used it too and the next day and the next, to the point where it was strange to see him go anywhere without it, as if it had become a part of him. After a week, while they waited in the boardroom, Elle finally had the courage to face the situation and ask Spencer why the particular choice for something for everyday use.

"It's that his girlfriend gave it to him" answered Morgan, before the brunette could say anything.

"What? No! Y/N is not my girlfriend” he said, completely embarrassed and making sure with his eyes that you weren't around to hear that.

"Oh, now I understand" JJ joined the conversation.

"You understand what?"

“You are always taking care that it doesn’t get dirty or stained”

"Yes, I don't like my clothes to get ruined"

"But more so if it's something his girlfriend gave him" insisted Morgan and in a fit that no one expected Spencer took a ball of paper and threw it at his face. That just got a collective laugh.

"I just like it. That's all”

"We all know you like her, Reid," added Hotch, who had kept quiet thus far and didn't even look up from the files. He flushed red to the ears as the rest of the team shared another laugh, and just seconds later you and Gideon walked through the door.

"Good morning"

"Good morning" answered the others, like school children before the arrival of a teacher. There was one seat left next to Morgan that Gideon took and that forced you into the only remaining chair between Elle and Spencer.

“Did I miss something interesting?” you murmured, leaning into him and smiling close to his face.

"No" he replied kindly, feeling your gaze drop from his eyes.

"Your scarf," you said, reaching out your hands to move it a little around his neck "It was out of place"

Everyone else, except for Gideon, shared knowing glances and stifled giggles as they watched the nervous way he thanked you. It didn't help too much that for the entire meeting you were completely distracted looking at your partner next to you, making the whole team wonder when the two of you were finally going to end up kissing.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #jason gideon #JJ #penelope garcía

[shybunnie20]

BFF!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

friends to lovers

★Locations ★My Masterlist

Summary: Eddie calls on you to help him plan his first date, and you wish that you were the one going on it with him.

Author's Note: This isn't quite as polished as I'd like it to be. But, I'm pushing through my last few weeks of college, so I'm working with the few brain cells I've got left lol. I still love how it turned out and the ending is worth all of the self-loathing, I promise.

No use of Y/N, est. friendship, ages aren’t specified but E & R are approx. in their early twenties & it’s an early 90s AU, Reader has never been asked on a date before. Mild angst with happy ending!

Word count: 8.9k

Warnings: Reader dwells on poor self-worth & feels undesirable, acts of eating and multiple mentions of food, includes swearing.

Nestled in the quaint corner of Campbell Ave and 2nd Street, you’re engrossed in a call with a customer, jotting down an order for two bouquets consisting of pink-white lilies and snapdragons. Your eyes follow the effortless glide of your glitter gel pen across the paper, detailing their contact information.

Similarly to Goldilocks, you’ve found a place of employment where the pace is just right. You can handle whatever tasks Joan, the owner, asks of you. Sweeping the wood floors with a stiff-bristled broom, tending to the plants, and arranging flowers adorned with decorative ribbon and crisp paper are all within your grasp.

This place gets steady business, but the concept of a lunch or dinner rush is nonexistent. However, you do face a unique kind of rush occasionally. Now and then, a frantic lover bursts through the doors, bug-eyed, having realized they’ve forgotten a special anniversary or birthday at the very last minute. 

As you recite the customer’s order and callback number into the phone’s receiver, their confirmational “uh huhs” cut through the buzz of the line. Suddenly, your attention is diverted by the sight of a van pulling into the parking spot out front, slightly askew. A small smile teases the corners of your mouth as you make a conscious effort to refocus on closing the conversation at hand.

The plastic shell of the phone clacks as you hang up, and you watch Eddie hop out of his van, and round the front of it with an unusual pep in his step—more than you’d see his best days.

“What’s up, buttercup?” Eddie’s voice carries across the room, accompanied by a genuine smile that lights up his face. He strides to the register counter you’re currently manning, wearing a vermillion polo shirt embellished with the neatly embroidered String and Strum shop logo on the breast. His hair is pushed back from his face with a black bandana, resembling a biker-like edge, tied firmly to ensure no stray curls disrupt his work as he repairs guitars and sells instruments for commission.

In seconds flat, he’s already scrunching his nose like a bunny, sensing a sneeze on the horizon. Being in a room packed with fresh plants is nothing short of hell, but he’s willing to endure it for the sake of seeing you. While he can handle flowers in small quantities, the confined space never fails to tickle his system like nobody’s business.

Vision blurring with mild irritation, Eddie blinks hard to disperse it. “Hey, how’s today going?”

You shrug, suppressing a giggle at the wiggle of his nose. “As good as it can, I guess. To what do I owe this unexpected visit?”

Eddie sets a grease-stained paper bag on the counter that separates you, along with a cup of soda. “Figured you could use a midday pick-me-up.”

“Must be my lucky day because I overslept and didn’t have time to pack a lunch. Well, that and I found a penny on the sidewalk.”

Eddie crosses his arms and tilts his head. “Don’t give luck all the credit. I have instinctual powers, y’know. My Munson senses were tingling and I knew you were in need.”

“My hero,” You exclaim, clasping your hands and swinging them to the side like a swooning princess. 

Eddie chuckles with you, watching as you wipe your palms on your apron and eagerly dig into the bag, pulling out a foam to-go box. As you promptly open it and take a bite of your lunch, you can’t help but groan and throw your head back in satisfaction. Your eyes meet his thereafter, causing him to twist his mouth to the side and momentarily look away.

“How much do I owe you?” You ask, your words slightly muffled as you continue to chew.

Minnie, Joan’s cat, gracefully leaps onto the counter to greet Eddie. She perches herself beside the cash register, allowing him to scratch under her chin. “Nothin, consider it a favor,” He says with a wet sniffle, the tingling in his nose unrelenting.

The silence that falls is comfortable for you, but he’s seemingly lost in his thoughts as he continues to pet Minnie. Then, he looks at you with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Speaking of which, I just so happen to know a way that you can return the favor.”

Having taken a sip from your drink and another bite of your food, the inflection of Eddie’s voice causes you to slow your chewing. “And what might that be?”

“Come over later to find out.”

Your shoulders slump, eyes widened with mock defeat. “No! I can’t stand here and wonder all day. I'll die. The suspense will kill me.”

Eddie pouts mockingly, his sweet honey eyes betraying his faux-frown. “Then I'll be sure to have the prettiest floral arrangement for your funeral. Only the best for you.”

Your brows knit together in an authentic pouting. The irony of needing to meet an untimely demise to receive flowers from a guy isn’t lost on you.

He motions toward the untrimmed bundle of carnations on the workbench behind you. “Actually, if you’re not too busy,” Eddie smirks. “Could you string those up for me quick so they’re ready to go for your wake?”

“Ha-ha,” you leer, taking the next bite of your food rather aggressively. “You’re cruel, you know that?”

“I beg to differ since I surprised you with your favorite from Val’s and all,” Eddie retorts, biting the inside of his cheek.

You grumble, “Yeah, and it’s fucking delicious.”

Eddie checks his watch and huffs, “Alright, I’ve gotta get goin’,” he says, rapping his knuckles on the countertop and beginning to walk backward. “See you later tonight,” He points at you before spinning on his heel and exiting the shop.

The bulky keyring on Eddie’s jeans jingles loudly as he steps onto the sidewalk. Abruptly, he stops in his tracks. For a moment he’s frozen, and then he braces himself against the nearby lamppost. It hits him like a brick wall and he sneezes mightily. 

Heads of nearby passersby turn in his direction, startled by the noise. As he straightens his posture, Eddie remains still, trying to find his center of gravity and regain his composure.

“You good?” You call out, your voice just barely reaching him through the propped-open doors. Taking a casual sip of your drink, you watch as Eddie steadies himself. Still clutching the street lamp with one hand, he manages to stick his other arm out and give a thumbs-up.

True to your word, you arrive at Eddie’s place straight after work. The sun is setting, casting a warm glow through the patio door onto the walls of the living room. The apartment is in its usual state of disarray, expectedly so, since it’s home to three guys who aren’t particularly concerned with tidiness.

Toeing off your shoes, you’re unphased by the subtle smell of dust in the air. What strikes you as odd is how quiet it is. Typically, at least one roommate is home, blasting the TV in the living room or music from their respective bedrooms. But the only sound permeating the silence is the erratic thumping and screech of the water pipes behind the paper-thin walls of the bathroom.  

As you snoop around the kitchen, hoping to find a box of saltine crackers or really anything to stop the gurgling in your belly. Having come up empty-handed, you turn your attention to the resilient plant that you challenged Eddie to care for—Keanu Leaves, as he so proudly named it. 

Finished with your fruitless search of the kitchen, you make your way into Eddie’s bedroom to settle comfortably into the chair that only you sit in; it’s your spot. While you get cozy, the beans rattle as they perfectly mold to your figure. You knock on the wall beside you, signaling your arrival to Eddie.

You resume the magazine left sitting open on the page you stopped on. You occupy yourself in the article about predicted spring fashion trends as you wait. After a minute or two, the pipes go quiet from the shower being turned off.

Eddie strolls into the room wearing nothing more than a clean pair of boxers. Droplets of water trickle down his toned and tatted chest. Harshly ruffling his curls with a bath towel, he smirks at you. “If it isn’t Little Miss Zombie, back from the dead.”

“Less than alive and in the flesh,” you reply, your annoyance at being made to wait all day still evident. You hold grudges better than anyone he knows, and Eddie is well aware that he’s not immune to being subject to it.

Your tummy rumbles loudly, the discomfort only emphasizing the sharpness of your tone. “When was the last time you got groceries? I didn’t see any preserved brains I could help myself to.”

“I’m definitely due for a restock,” Eddie says as he drapes his wet towel over the back of his desk chair. Then, he grabs the bottle of mousse from his dresser and dispenses a foamy dollop into his palm. “Funny you should ask, though. That’s sorta why you’re here.”

You flip the page of your magazine, not pulling your eyes from the glossy print. “You told me to come over to go grocery shopping?”

Eddie rubs his palms together to spread the product and then runs his fingers through his curls. “Not quite,” he starts, his tone cryptic. “I’ve been tasked with providing a meal, of sorts.” 

Finally, you look up at him. Watching him scrunch his damp hair with the remainder of the product that’s making his palms go tacky, you wait for him to elaborate.

Eddie’s eyes flit to the other side of the room, rather than meeting your awaiting gaze. “I have a date.”

You stare blankly at the back of his head, as still as a statue while your blinking intensifies. Dumbfounded, you struggle to survive the bombshell he just dropped on you. It’s as if a nuclear explosion has shattered your eardrums, leaving his continued words to sound muffled through the high-pitched ringing.

A million and one questions swirl in your mind, only adding to the disorienting whirlwind of emotions. Since when is he dating? Why all of a sudden? As you try to piece everything together, you note that he hasn’t had any recent romantic interactions, at least none that you’re aware of.

You always thought he’d confide in you if he was seeing someone, but now you’re not so sure; especially since you’re only finding out about this now. Without a doubt, Eddie has never had trouble attracting attention. But he’s always seemed so content with the ways things are. So why now?

Eddie turns to face you, a splash of desperation in his eyes. “I feel like doing this is the best way to know if she likes me back.”

Your mouth has gone dry, and you try to sound more curious than interrogative, but it doesn’t quite come off that way. “Who is this mystery woman, anyway?” A couple of names come to mind, some of the most beautiful girls in town—none of whom you hold a candle to.

His side of the room falls quiet when he’s hit with your question. Eddie’s eyes drop to the carpet. While it might seem like he’s lost in thought, it’s actually a glaring sign of evasion. You can’t help but feel a little hurt by his reluctance to tell you who it is.

A small smile forms as he leans back against his dresser, as though he can’t keep himself upright during his current daydream. Folding his arms across his pecs and rubbing his jaw, eyes still downcast, Eddie begins to gush about her. “She’s just- god, she’s something else. The way she laughs, it’s like... the sun coming out after a storm.”

“Sounds like quite the catch,” you mutter, trying to keep your tone neutral. You watch closely as blush tints Eddie’s cheeks and his smile threatens to grow. Without saying another word, Eddie walks out and returns to the bathroom.

You’re quick to follow, hopping up from your chair. “Do I know her?”

“Technically, yeah,” Eddie answers. Standing in front of the foggy mirror, he wipes it with the back of his forearm. Then, he starts rummaging through the counter drawer for his pair of shears.

You stand just outside the open door, the lingering humidity from his scorching hot shower kissing your skin as it disperses into the hallway. Leaning back against the wall, you cross your arms like he did moments ago, albeit far more tensely. Technically? It must be one of your ex-friends, then. That would explain why he’s been keeping you in the dark.

It’s your duty to be supportive, but right now, you could hurl. The thick nausea swirling deep in your gut is a storm raging within, overpowering your ability to stay present.

While trimming his bangs over the basin, the shears glint in the hushed light of the wall sconce. Eddie steals a glance in your direction, but his eyes dart back to his reflection too quickly to catch the discomfort etched on your face. “So you’ll help me, right?”

As you watch yourself anxiously wiggling your toes inside your sock, you mumble, “I can't if you won’t tell me who it is.“

“Sure you can, you’re a girl. You know how this stuff works.”

You scoff, your brows shooting up as your head jerks back. You open your mouth to object, but he promptly cuts you off.

“Ah, ah! Slow your roll,” Eddie cautions, pointing the shears in your direction. “I’m not saying you’re all the same, but there’s gotta be some common ground of expectations, right?”

You don’t have the strength to argue, so you reluctantly allow for his generalization. “I guess so.”

“Like yeah, I could just study one of those lady magazines you’re always reading. But then I wouldn’t have a way of knowing what is and isn’t bullshit,” Eddie explains, his tone half-joking. “That’s why I’m going straight to the source, oh, wise one.”

Far too consumed with trying to narrow down who the chick could possibly be, you can’t be bothered to give him a huff of amusement through your nose. “Can I at least have a hint?”

“Nope,” The shears hit the countertop, their metallic resonance echoing against the porcelain. He pivots to face you, hands resting on his hips. “Alright, Sherlock. How about you quit trying to crack the case and help me pick out a tie.”

“A what now?” You squawk, eyes widening in disbelief.

Eddie chuckles softly and rinses the hair trimmings down the drain, then flicks off the bathroom light. “I have to dress for the occasion. This is a big deal for me,” he elaborates as he strides back into his room. “For her and me.”

Once again, you find yourself on his tail, trailing close behind back into his bedroom. You unfold your arms and instead, start to rub the inside of your wrist with your opposite thumb. “Yeah, I get that. Just seems a bit out of character for you.”

Rifling through his closet, Eddie pulls out a hanger with a navy button-up shirt and nonchalantly tosses it onto the end of his bed. “Maybe, but at least she’ll know I’m taking this seriously,” Eddie says while reaching for the high shelf to retrieve a tattered shoebox. Lifting the lid, he presents it to you. “Here’s what we’re working with.”

You step closer, your fingers deftly plucking out the rolled ties one by one, laying them flat beside the slightly wrinkled shirt. Side by side, your shoulders nearly brush. Meticulously comparing the patterns and colors, neither of you seems drawn to any particular one.

“Here, maybe it’s better to do it this way,” Eddie suggests, picking up and beginning to slip into the shirt. His thick fingers falter as he attempts to maneuver each small white button through its corresponding hole. Once halfway dressed—having tastefully paired his plaid boxers with a dress shirt—he smooths out the material from his chest to his belly.

Eddie reaches for the nearest tie and lays it against his shoulder. He faces you expectantly, anticipation evident in his gaze, awaiting your feedback.

Your eyes flit between the tie he’s holding, the array laid out on the bed, and the hopefulness in his round eyes. “These are easily the three ugliest ties I've ever seen. No offense.”

He blows a playful raspberry at your harsh criticism and shakes his head. “None taken, they’re not mine. But Wayne might be a little hurt when I call him next and tell him you said that.”

Shooting him a pointed look, your brows furrow in skepticism. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I just might,” Eddie teases with a smile before turning his attention back to the bed. He tosses the first tie aside and reaches for the mustard paisley one. “What about this one, does it compliment my eyes?” He bats his dark brown lashes.

You clutch your chin in contemplation, carefully assessing the combination of hues. However, the richness of his chocolate irises captures you. You wade in their depths. The hot flash that envelops your body is enough to break the trance he inadvertently put you under. With a disapproving shake of your head, you dismiss this tie as well. “Nope, next.”

Eddie looks at you for a moment longer, even though you’re not doing the same. A faint frown creases his features as he tosses the vetoed tie aside, forming a rejection pile.

You pick up the remaining tie and drape it over his shoulder, admiring the harmonious pairing of the navy in the tie with the shirt, accentuated by its white and black diagonal stripes. While you ponder, Eddie watches your face intently, holding his breath.

You nod, a trace of delighted approval in your expression. “We have a winner.”

“Hell yeah, blue on blue it is,” Eddie exclaims. He wraps the tie around the back of his neck but struggles to recall the proper technique for tying it. Attempting a few different nonsensical loopings, he groans, his determination waning. “Stupid son of a bitch, wouldya just-”

“Don’t hurt yourself. Let me do it," You offer. Not receiving protest, you step closer to him.

Eddie uses one hand to gather his product-enhanced curls into a makeshift ball, allowing you to access the collar of his shirt. He juts out his freshly shaved chin, granting you ample room to work. Standing this closely, you catch the clean scent of shaving cream lingering on his skin.

You begin to effortlessly tie the knot. Without pausing to consider what you’re about to say, the words spill from your lips, “Why’re you asking for my opinion on stuff like this, anyway? You should be doing what you think she’ll like, not me.”

“You always know best,” Eddie’s expression softens to something more vulnerable. “When you’re taking the next step in a relationship, you want everything to be as perfect as it can be, y’know?”

It’s common sense to him. No one understands him like you do, making you the perfect person for navigating this nerve-wracking experience. But for you, it’s perplexing. You’ve never been on a proper, formal date. The idea of one remains an unfulfilled pipe dream. Yet, here you are, agreeing to help Eddie plan his.

Your only frame of reference comes from romance movies and horror stories of dates gone wrong recounted by your girlfriends. Of all the things you could be in the world, you find yourself an unassuming tree. Sturdy and dependable, sure. You serve your purpose. But you don’t captivate onlookers with blooming petals like flowers do. Instead, you take pride in your intricately branched personality, valuing it as your true strength that often goes overlooked.

Even so, it feels as though your traits fail to enchant others regardless; nobody seems willing. You go unnoticed, and you’ve come to terms with that.

Beautiful wildflowers get plucked from the ground and carried away to be cherished. Meanwhile, you simply exist, rooted in no man’s land, devoid of admirers. You may stand tall, but you’re easily overshadowed by what other women have to offer.

Perhaps this is why you like working at the flower shop. It’s somewhat cathartic to witness the delicate petals fall from time to time. It brings you a strange sense of satisfaction to hack away at their stems. The best part, though? While it’s a little twisted, you know that those flowers that dazzle in their pristine state are destined to wilt. They’ll shrivel and brown.

Whilst among your shared group of friends in public, you’ve witnessed Eddie getting nudged by one of the guys to direct his attention to a smoke show walking by. You watched as they bit their knuckles and exaggeratedly gawked. You don’t compare, it’s not even apples to oranges. It’s like… apples to rocks. A delicious, shiny fruit compared to you, mere clunky chunks of earth.

If life were an album, you’re the track that everyone skips within seconds of hearing the intro. Except for those rare moments when someone half-listens by accident and they resonate with you—that’s how you and Eddie became friends. He’d stumbled upon his new favorite song, one worth revisiting. What he sees in you is what everyone else overlooks.

Eddie is the only man on the face of the earth who treats you like you’re worth being around. Only an oddball would prefer to spend time lounging beneath the shade of a crooked tree instead of homing a rose in a crystal vase. That’s one thing you love about your best friend; he doesn’t make you feel like you fade into the background.

All fairytale cliché bullshit included, you want to be sought out in a crowd. You want to light up the room for someone. Much to your dismay, that can happen platonically too, and it has in this case.

If Eddie only knew how much the little moments matter to you—the ones where he makes you feel prioritized and valued. You know you’re not anything close to special or remarkable, but he always made you second guess that thought.

Obviously, you hadn’t meant to fall for him. It was kind of like catching a cold; one day, there was a tickle in the back of your throat that you didn’t usually feel. Unsuspecting, the days went on, and that sensation only worsened. You started to panic a little but ultimately continued to deny your worst thoughts.

Before you knew it, you were bedridden, bitten by the love bug. You didn’t go down without a fight. You thought that you could be strong and deny it access to your heart, but it had already invaded. So, all you could do was wait it out.

You tried to distance yourself, hoping to recover and act like nothing ever changed inside of you. But Eddie didn’t let you get too far away.

It wasn’t love at first sight, rather, a creeping plague. There was no swooning and giggling, no struggling to keep your hands to yourself. The change was undetectable. You were a frog in boiling water, unaware of the gradually rising temperature until it was far too late.

It wasn’t until your chest started to ache every time you said goodbye at the end of spending time together that you realized you were in too deep. You genuinely debated going to the doctor to get the pang checked out, but luckily you didn’t. Otherwise, you’d have wasted a good chunk of money to find out that you’re a lovesick idiot.

Unfortunately, this is an illness you’ve been stuck with since, and you’ve at least learned how to distract yourself from it. But when you fail to do so, your imagination wanders. Naturally, you’ve wondered if pressing a mere kiss to his cheek would burn everything to the ground.

The forbidden territory beckons, tempting you to envision breaking those unspoken agreed-upon rules that forbid things like hand-holding and cuddling. The two of you uphold mutual respect, adhering to the expectations of friendship. Both of you reserve that level of touch for expressions of romantic affection. Actions such as those have no place in a true friendship.

That’s the most confusing part of this for you. How did you manage to catch such strong feelings for him when you’ve not crossed any lines? Sure, he’s a tactile person; maybe that has something to do with it. Eddie makes physical contact with those he trusts, but it’s not like he’s hanging off of you at any given moment. You receive the same treatment as the others in his inner circle: a hand on the shoulder, a pat on the back, and a brief gripping of the forearm to get your attention.

You’re not supposed to want the touches to be more frequent, much less of a different nature. The line has to be drawn somewhere, and it’s been plainly drawn in the sand. You understand and accept that. But why, of all lines in the world, does it have to be this one that you want to cross so badly?

Most of your days aren’t all that miserable. But there are those days that are more difficult than the rest, though it’s not his fault. Last weekend, the two of you were at a mall, and some chick waved at him flirtily. He returned it immediately, though playfully enough that it was almost mocking. He was fucking around and had no intention of entertaining the idea of approaching her. Regardless, it was humbling for you, to say the least.

In that moment, the world reminded you that there’s a reason you walk at his side at a respectable distance, not tucked under his arm. If anything, it’s for the best. There’s a sense of liberation in admiring him without the burden of articulating your feelings. There’s no pressure to meet a girlfriend quota or live up to a higher standard. What Eddie expects of you now is what you’re capable of, and clearly, all that you’re good for. You’re good for filling the void, but apparently not so much anymore.

You’re not lustrous and aching to jump his bones, and you’re certainly not desperate enough to kiss him on a whim by not allowing yourself to overthink it. But perhaps you are just desperate enough that a man simply paying your emotions, interests, and existence of any mind can shackle you to him. That has to be what’s done you in; Eddie gives a shit about you.

In reality, there’s more to it than that. Eddie is selective about who and what he lets in. He doesn’t care for conformity and lack of individuality. The idea of blending in with the majority of society repulses him. You find the flawed aspects of the Munson doctrine fascinating and raw. He’s not perfect and Eddie doesn’t care what others think of him, to a degree.

Not unlike you, he’s complex. Eddie is anti-establishment but still prefers a bit of structure over chaos in his day-to-day life. He’s independent and cynical as hell, but he’s also appreciative of his support systems and isn’t ashamed to rely on them. He’s not much of a rule breaker nor is he rebellious, but he’ll happily stir up a little trouble in good fun if given the opportunity.

Eddie is a hypocrite in some ways and a walking contradiction in others. You love that he’s unapologetic about being that way. He owns it for the most part, and you admire that.

His presence overstays its welcome in your thoughts. You’ve often yearned for him to call you in the dead of night, admitting that he can’t sleep without the sound of your voice. Many times, you’ve fought the urge to do that. He owes you sleep, countless nights of it. It’s a debt that will never be repaid, an outstanding balance.

Despite the attempts at trying to talk yourself out of it, you still can’t bring yourself to stop loving him. Even as he’s actively pursuing someone else, you’re unable to shake this. You could be paralyzed from head to toe, and you’d still feel the love you have for him in your bones.

Once Eddie is officially with someone, he won’t have much time or energy left for you. The anticipation of being thrown aside for something new and far prettier has shattered your heart before any changes have occurred. Yet, any fragment of his presence surpasses total absence. The greed isn’t worth it, and you know you should be grateful for getting any piece of him at all.

The phrase fizzles on the tip of your tongue like a smoldering ember, threatening to sear through the muscle… I’m happy for you.

You should say it, but you can’t. Because if you did, that would be a blatant lie. It’s not even possessiveness that has you so bitter, it’s envy. You wish you were in her place.

“There,” you adjust the knot with a delicate tug, ensuring its tightness before letting the material slip through your fingers. Unable to meet his appreciative gaze, you offer a sad smile and take a half-step backward.

Your sigh, cleverly concealed as a deep breath, escapes as you settle back into your chair with a plop. “So, um,” you begin, picking at your cuticles absentmindedly. “Where are you taking her? Somewhere fancy?”

“Nah,” Eddie meticulously revamps his curls one final time in the mirror, wanting them to fall just right. Then, with great care, he tames his bangs to lay perfectly in place. “She’s gonna come over here. I thought it’d be more intimate. Besides, I can’t exactly swing a reservation right now. I’ve been tight on cash this week.”

Your fingers come to a halt, the stinging sensation apparent. Looking over at him, your eyes meet his in the reflection. “Ya big dummy, you shouldn’t have bought me lunch when that money could’ve gone toward buying her a nice dinner.”

“Don’t start with that shit,” Eddie warns as he digs through his dresser in search of pants to wear. “I’m happy to do that for you,” He adds, pulling a pair of dark jeans from the bottom drawer.

“It really did make my day, thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Having donned his pants, he nears his desk where his black grommet belt lies on the floor. Eddie threads his belt through the loops of his jeans, the buckle jingling before he secures it in place. “I felt better knowing you were taken care of.”

It’s only now occurring to you what he’s implied, and you think how absurd it is for him to host a dinner when he’s culinarily challenged. “Wait, since when do you cook?”

“Oh, I don’t. But you do.”

“Hardly,” you scoff, downplaying your abilities. Placing your magazine back in your lap, you flip the page despite not having read it. Unexpectedly, you feel the urge to quell his enthusiasm, to set him up for failure by trying to poke holes in his plan. “I mean, food is one thing, but atmosphere is another. Aren’t the guys going to be here?”

Eddie moves the clutter on his desk around in a quest to find something. “I kicked them out for the night.”

Like a spear plunged into your chest, you swallow hard. Not only is he having a girl over for dinner, but he’s gone out of his way to guarantee privacy because he’s hoping to get lucky too. More than likely right there, on that very bed, feet away from you. The cramped twin-sized mattress, where they’ll inevitably be body to body.

He turns to you after locating what he was searching for, fastening the slightly fancier watch around his wrist; it only supersedes his casio due to it being analog, as opposed to digital. “I’ve been wanting to try that dish you keep raving about. You can teach me how to make it. Two birds, one stone.”

“It’s not difficult, you could handle the recipe,” You shrug away the opportunity to cook with him because the domesticity of it would more than likely kill you.

“I wanna do it together,” his voice softens, genuinely asking as nicely as he’s capable. “Please.”

“Sure, yeah,” you maintain your downcast gaze and slump back in the chair, wishing for a black hole to open and swallow you up. “What if she doesn’t like it, or what if you don’t?”

“If you like it then it has to be good.”

Eddie’s seemingly endless compliments cause no sense of flattery. Instead, you’re consumed with persisting nausea as you envision a stunning girl seated across from him while they share laughter and partake in unspeakable activities in this very room.

Abruptly, a wave of heat washes over you, causing the soles of your feet and your palms to grow clammy. The scent of newly sprayed Old Spice floods the room and you’re overwhelmed by it, struggling to draw a breath. “I’ll be right back,” You all but choke on your words, swiftly rising to your feet and hastily leaving. Eddie watches curiously as you do.

In the living room, you push the heavy sliding door aside, stepping out onto the balcony to catch your breath. You inhale as deep as physically possible, and the stirring evening breeze cools the hot tears gathered along your lash line. Cars pass by, and you distract yourself by watching a person leisurely walking their dog. You do everything in your power to divert your thoughts away from him and the impending date.

A few minutes later, Eddie emerges from his room and slides open the door to the balcony, poking his head out to check on you. “Y’ready to go?” The shift in your energy is immediately evident to him, though he can’t quite pinpoint what’s amiss. He figures you’ve had a long day and you’re tired from your shift. Maybe you’re a little hangry, too.

With your arms folded on the balcony rail, you continue to look out into the neighborhood. “Go where?” 

“The store, duh. We’ve gotta get ingredients, do we not?” He says to the back of your head.

You nod meekly before turning to face him. “Right. Yeah, I’m ready.”

Eddie flashes a warm smile before sliding the door open wide enough for you to pass through. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand then, hot stuff. We’re losing daylight,” He says, striding toward the front door.

Arguably, you’re not losing daylight fast enough. You wish the sun would fall from the sky. That way, it would always be dark and you could hide in the shadows forever. You follow him inside and slide the closed with a subdued thud.

His car keys drag and jingle while he swipes them off of the counter. Once he reaches the entryway, Eddie drops the keys on the floor beside him as he kneels to put on his sneakers. A few seconds later, you’ve joined him to do the same. Eddie glances at you as he feels the evening breeze that slipped in finally reaching this side of the room. “It’s a little chilly out, wanna borrow a hoodie or something?”

Quickly tying your shoes to avoid prolonged eye contact, you get to your feet, hugging yourself as you do. “No, I’ll be fine.”

Eddie snorts and stands, his shoes now tied as well. “I’m getting you one,” He insists and heads to his room, gesturing for you to follow.

“I said I’ll be fine without one,” You opt not to follow, instead calling out to him to compensate for the distance and his half-open door.

“Shut up, I’m getting you one and you’re gonna wear it ‘cause I said so,” his tone drips with feigned amusement at your stubbornness. “Come in here.”

As you step into the room, Eddie offers you the hoodie, watching as you just stare at it. “Sweetheart, put it on. You’re gonna freeze to death if you don’t. Then, I’ll have no choice but to cancel my super hot date because I’ll be too busy defrosting my ice sculpture of a best friend with a blow drier. You want me to blow you all night? I know you-”

“Okay, okay! I’ll put the damn thing on,” you say, begrudgingly taking it from him. “Happy?”

“Try elated,” Eddie smiles from ear to ear and winks at you, content that you’re allowing him to do what he deems best for you, knowing you’re too stubborn to do so for yourself. He’s got your back, always. Even if it means enduring a bit of attitude in the process. Eddie likes that about you, he always has. With a final glance, he leaves the room, flicking off the light switch.

Left standing in the dark bedroom, you blindly navigate the article of clothing to locate the opening. However, as soon as you go to put it on, it occurs to you that this hoodie is not fresh out of the wash.

The distant floral scent left behind by dryer sheets mingles with his natural aroma, enveloping you as you pull the sweatshirt over your head. He grabbed whatever was at hand, inadvertently submerging you back into the very sensory experience you fled from. The spicy notes from his cologne turn you into a human lava lamp, effectively melting you on the inside.

The mingling of Old Spice, tobacco smoke, his unique essence, and a hint of spring meadow flood your mind. You consider the idea of keeping the hoodie. You could tell him that you forgot to return it, and he’ll forget about it. Eddie can afford to lose one hoodie, he’d survive.

“Let’s go!” He barks, impatience peaking as nerves gnaw at him with each passing minute bringing him closer to the dinner.

Exiting his bedroom, you find Eddie stationed at the front door, propping it open with his foot. Once within his view, you extend your arms and twist your expression to emphasize your annoyed compliance.

“One last thing,” Eddie withdraws his foot, causing the door to slam shut, its latch clanging twice against the wood from the force. He reaches out and pulls the hood up, adjusting it to cover most of your head. “There.”

You stick your tongue out at him, your grin eliciting one from him in return. “Alright, let’s-” He begins, but instead of turning, he fakes you out and grabs both drawstrings. Eddie tugs them, causing the hood to cinch tightly around your face.

“You’re an ass,” You whine.

“Yeah, well,” Eddie turns around to leave this time and holds the front door open for you. “You’re stuck with me.”

With a narrowed glare, you fix the hood and your hair on your way out of the apartment. Eddie is close behind, closing the door and locking it. You take the opportunity to collect yourself and adopt a supportive, cheerful demeanor.

These are gonna be the longest two hours of your life.

You can’t fucking believe it. You’re preparing a meal for another woman, and doing so willingly. You tried to guide him through the prep process, but he grew frustrated. Now, he’s on dish duty, conquering the mountain of dirty dishes piled up on the counter. 

She may be getting a delicious and intimate dinner, but at least you get moments like these. But soon enough, she’ll have them too. If everything goes to plan, the memories of these moments will be all you have left of Eddie. As you lose yourself in the sound of his voice, the ramblings about a sale he made at work eventually circle back to the topic of his evening.

As he excitedly goes on, his voice carries a boyish enthusiasm. Unseen by you, Eddie bounces on the balls of his feet while standing at the sink. Ten minutes seem to fly by unnoticed as you both focus on your tasks.

After taking the food out of the oven, his demeanor flips like a switch. “Oh, it’s time for me to leave apparently,” you acknowledge, barely having the chance to take off the oven mitt all the way before he’s practically pushing you out of the apartment. “Be sure to heat it up at 375 degrees,” You suggest as you struggle to put on your shoes fast enough.

“Sure thing,” Eddie confirms, “I’ll let you know how it goes!”

“Looking forward to it,” You lie. Eddie waves you off before closing the front door. Left standing alone in the eerily quiet hallway, you feel foolish.

Finally arriving home, you crawl onto your bed. The weight of reality crashes down upon you, and you physically collapse under the weight of your emotions. The pain in your chest burns up the back of your throat as you sob. This was a harsh wake-up call, but it’s what you needed to finally confront yourself.

It’s better this way. Not having to reject you outright or politely turn you down, Eddie doesn’t have to hurt simply because you are. This is best because Eddie doesn’t have to feel guilty or pity you. Just as you’ve loved him in silence, you can grieve the loss of him in it too.

Ten minutes pass and just as you’re starting to drift asleep from exhaustion, your telephone rings. The ringing in the kitchen pulls you from your room. You drag your feet on the way there, clearing your throat and taking a deep breath before answering the phone.

“Hey, uh,” Eddie sounds panicked, “Can you come back over? I forgot the most important fucking thing and-”

You cut him off, “Relax, I’ll be there in twelve,” Abruptly ending the call without another word, you rub your sore eyes, blow your stuffy nose, and splash your face with warm water. The last thing he needs is for his night to be ruined because he notices how hard you’ve been crying. If your feelings get in the way of him having a good time with the girl he’s head over heels for, then you don’t deserve his friendship.

Entering the building and letting yourself back into his apartment, you’re caught off guard by how different the space looks. He worked his butt off to tidy the living room and make certain that everything is presentable. Besides being notably neater, you also notice the faint smell of air freshener.

The apartment is blanketed in darkness, illuminated only by the flickering flames of candles and the light from the table lamp in the living room. Hushed music emanates from the record player in his room. It’s a genre you wouldn’t have expected him to own, because of how slow and romantic it sounds. You wonder whether he bought it specifically for this occasion.

Upon hearing the front door creak open, Eddie halts his pacing in the living room. “Thank god, you’re here.”

You teeter on the heels of your feet, feeling out of place in the carefully arranged setting that isn’t meant for you. “I really shouldn’t be. It’s quarter to seven, she’ll show up any minute now.”

Eddie makes his way over to you, rounding the dinner table and draping his arm along the back of the dining chair farthest from where you stand. “No, no. Don’t worry about that, she’s already here.”

Your eyes flit towards the bathroom, expecting to see a sliver of light escaping from beneath the door, yet the hallway is pitch black. There’s no dolled-up gal standing in his room either. You look back at him with a furrowed brow, confusion etched on your face. “Where, exactly?”

He can’t think of a time he’s ever had to remind himself how to breathe correctly. Eddie holds his hand out to you, his anxiety mounting. With hesitation, you extend your hand and place it in his. He wraps his trembling fingers around yours.

Rarely have you been in this position, and in those instances, it was never an act with deeper meaning. It’s only ever happened in urgent moments, like darting across a bustling street to avoid being separated—a mere safety measure.

Eddie’s attention fixates on your hands, willing them to respond to his touch. Then he notices your puffy, reddened eyes. “What’s the matter?” He asks, instinctively squeezing your joined hands.

“It’s stupid,” You pull away from him, retracting your hand to wipe away the smeared mascara beneath your eyes.

Rather than forcibly turning you to face him, Eddie gracefully moves around to stand in front of you once more. “I bet it’s not,” he says softly, his compassionate expression tinged with concern. He reaches for both of your hands this time, praying you can’t feel his pounding pulse through the contact.

Eddie delicately lifts your hands and peppers velvety kisses across the tops of your knuckles. The warmth of your skin against his lips sends a shiver shooting through his core, goosebumps rising across his body.

You emit a wet giggle from the shock, uncertainty, and embarrassment bubbling within you. “What the hell are you doing?”

He chuckles a little too, his eyes sparkling as they reflect the dancing flames behind you. “What’s it look like? This is all for you,” Eddie presses one more featherlight kiss to your hands before lowering them, but he doesn’t let go, keeping them securely in his own. “It’s our first date.”

You’re the prettiest little package of unusual. From the moment he first heard your song, he couldn’t shake you. Eddie couldn’t get your tune out of his system, but it’s not like he wanted to. Never before had anyone shown him such unconditional care; no one had ever gone out of their way to get to know him like you did. You’re the safest thing he’s ever known, but you’re also the scariest, in the best ways possible.

The thought of confessing how you make him complete, unlike anything he’s ever experienced, is nothing short of terrifying. Yet, the fear of not seizing the opportunity to love you outweighs the fear of rejection. There’s no turning back now.

Your eyes wander to the table, taking in the details: the thoughtfully arranged mismatched plates and silverware, the glasses filled with expensive wine. At the end of the kitchen island sits a teddy bear beside a bouquet. In addition to the flower petals, there are red, white, and pink balloons scattered across the floor.

You turn away before he can see your face contort, biting your lip harshly to suppress the sob rising in your throat. It’s all useless, though. A broken cry escapes your lips.

Eddie’s stomach lurches and pressure builds behind his own eyes. The change he just caused is palpable, the damage has been done. He releases both of your hands and plants his on the sides of his head, stepping away. “Shit, shit, shit. I’m such a fucking idiot. I read this all wrong, I thought-”

“You’re not and you didn’t,” you choke out. “They’re happy tears now.”

His frantic expression mellows out, his arms drop to his sides, and the tension in his body gradually dissipates. “Happy tears?”

You respond with a soft hum and nod, a grin forming as you admire the table setting and gifts once more before looking back at Eddie.

“Oh,” he chirps, wearing a cheek-splitting smile as he brings his palms to your face. He wipes away your fallen tears with his thumbs. Eddie studies your expression intently. “I didn’t mean to make you cry sad ones.”

“It’s not your fault,” You close your eyes, relishing the sensation of his fingers calmingly swiping along the apples of your cheeks.

“It is and I’m sorry,” Eddie inches closer, his toes now touching yours. “I wanted it to be a surprise ‘cause I thought spontaneity would make it more memorable.”

You look at him questioningly. “It’s not exactly spontaneous when you had me cook my own dinner.”

“Fair enough. You’ve got me there,” Eddie thought it was a foolproof plan. If you made the food, there was no chance that you’d hate it. “I went about this all wrong, huh? I should scrap the whole thing and start from scratch,” He becomes distracted, his train of thought shifting to how he’s going to clean this up and figure out a different approach.

“Don’t do that. Just ask me,” you grasp his forearm to regain his attention. “Ask me out and maybe I'll say yes.”

“Maybe?” Eddie scoffs airily, unsure if you’re teasing or genuinely undecided. He clears his throat and theatrically composes himself, gesturing with a downward motion of his hand in front of his face. “Okay, uh, would you like to have dinner with me?”

“No.”

Eddie’s mouth falls open.

“I’m fucking with you,” You smile devilishly and wrap your arms around his middle.

Finally, he can hug you the way he’s always wanted. Eddie brings you in close and tight, his arms encircling your head. “You think you’re so funny, don’t you?” He murmurs into your hair, inhaling deeply to indulge in every aspect of you he can.

“A little,” You laugh. You remain in each other’s embrace for a moment longer before easing apart, though still connected by your pairs of lassoed arms.

Eddie’s laughter melds with yours, the relief in his tone evident. “Now that the cat's outta the bag, I can finally tell you that I absolutely love when you’re a crybaby.”

You pull a comical expression, raising your eyebrows and widening your eyes. “What, why?” You take in the scattering of freckles across his T-zone while he responds.

“Honest to god, it’s mesmerizing to watch you experience things so intensely. It’s fucking beautiful,” With nothing but adoration in his eyes, Eddie strokes your hair, relishing the way it feels against his skin. “Can I call you my crybaby?”

“No, you cannot!” You swat at his chest and attempt to push him away, but he laughs smugly and brings you back in close. Your hands find purchase on his biceps, surrendering to him entirely. Locked in each other’s gaze, time seems to crawl.

Eddie’s hands, having made their way down to caress your hips, settle on the small of your back. “How about just baby?” he nudges the tip of his nose against yours, his voice taking on an almost sultry tone. “You like the way that sounds?”

All you can do is nod dumbly, watching his eyes fall to your lips.

Eddie mumbles, “Me too,” His hands flex where they lay, tugging you slightly so that your bodies are flush and you have no choice but to lean against him. “Would it be okay if I kissed you?” Eddie licks his lips, his eyes finding yours again, the chocolate pools of his irises swirling.

You nod, slide your hands up his shoulders, and wrap them around his neck. The air was stolen from your lungs, rendering your voice a ghost. Eddie leans in and his lips hover over yours, your eyes fluttering closed in time with his. Then, you feel the gentle pressure of his lips against your own.

For a few moments, you’re out of sync, a mere beat behind due to nerves. But after taking a brief breath, you find each other without trouble. When you slot your lip between his, it’s as though there’s a sunrise in his veins; a new dawn spreads through his body. You tug a fistful of curls at the nape of his neck, your lips clicking wetly with one another, chests heaving in unison.

When the two of you finally have to part to breathe, Eddie whispers, “Holy shit.”

“You can say that again,” You exhale, releasing the grip you have on his hair and soothingly scratching the area with your nails.

“I mean I could,” Eddie borderline purrs, tightening his arms around your waist. “But I’d much rather keep kissing you.”

“Hard to argue with that,” you smile against his lips and give him a quick peck, which he happily returns. Then, your mind begins to wander. “You got me flowers?”

He can’t discern if there’s a trace of disdain or disbelief in your tone. Eddie knows that you consider flowers cliché and overrated; after all, you deal with them all day. But just because you see them that way doesn’t mean he does.

Eddie pulls away slightly to get a good look at you, “Yeah, of course I got flowers for my flower. How could I not?”

Truthfully, he’s bummed about not being able to find a bouquet as exceptional as you. You’re unlike anything from this world, resembling something from his cherished sci-fi novels. You’re resilient, showing up any old rose or daisy. You unfurled your petals solely for Eddie and allowed him to see you bloom. Nothing on earth compares to you. So, a regular bouquet would have to do.

You comment with a slightly teasing tone, “I had no idea you’re a hopeless romantic.”

“Too much?” Eddie bites his lower lip, afraid that you’re offended.

“No, not too much,” you remove your one hand from his hair and rest it on his chest, drawing mindless shapes while you avoid eye contact. “Far more than I deserve though,” You’re slightly taken aback when Eddie cups your face without hesitation, forcing you to look at him. Despite his assertiveness, his touch is tender.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie’s eyes carry an intensity you’ve never seen, brimming with affection and sincerity. “You deserve everything good that this world has to offer. I can’t give you that, but I can give you all of me. That much I can promise.”

Reblogs are greatly encouraged and appreciated! ♡

★My Masterlist

tags:@nj01@tlclick73

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things 4 #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson hurt/comfort #eddie munson st4 #eddie munson stranger things 4 #eddie munson stranger things #eddie stranger things #stranger things eddie #st4 fanfic #eddie munson fandom #eddie munson fanfics #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson one shot #eddie the freak munson #eddie the banished #eddie munson fics

[inf3ct3dd]

loser!ellie headcanons pt.6

summary: ellieeee my chiquitita my baby my love

warnings: none :3

authors note: ik yall missed herrrr

masterlist. help palestine.🇵🇸

- ellie tries to be soooo cool and wear her cool people jackets (leather jackets, canvas, those carhartt hoodie jackets etc) but they’re very not helpful against the cold and you’ll be out with her and shes just SHIVERING the whole time…

- she’s obsessed w those “general knowledge quizzes” on tiktok. that girl is a hoe for trivia she’s sitting on her bed at three in the morning saying her answers OUT LOUD while she watches them. she gets so upset when she gets literally any wrong… “man…im not a quiz master 🙁”

- ik in the games she walks around with her little journal and shit but i feel like shes definitely jus constantly typing shit in her notes app… random thoughts and jokes and shit that she most definitely shows you at the end of the day

- she barely ever baby talks to babies… she’ll go up to a baby and just be like “wassup dude” and have a full blown conversation with him while the babies just sitting there babbling and giggling at her

- thinks those “im nothing like yall” slideshows r so hilarious…. like you’ll be on the couch and she’s just giggling at her phone at paracetamol 😞

- references the most niche memes ever constantly and literally googles them to explain herself. you guys went camping and she said “boy you want hot dog” and you were like ????

- so strangely particular about how her stuff is arranged 😭 her desk looks like an absolute hot mess 90% of the time but SHE UNDERSTANDS IT and if u try and organize it for her she just puts it back how it was

- always says “guys” and “yall” when she’s talking to literally one person. and CHAT. she just constantly adds it into conversation like “chat how are you today”

- loves asking if things are “fire.” she’ll cook you something and you take a bite and shes like “is that shit fire???” she has to know

- obsessed with “i barely know her” jokes. the second someone says something ending in er shes like “rider??? i barely know her!!” and she’s laughing her ass off

- that girl will go HAM on some mac and cheese. but it can only be really good baked mac or the shitty kraft mac and cheese. she puts like- hella pepper and red chili flakes in it and eats it straight out of the pot 🔥 its always at like three in the morning and you just walk in the kitchen to her with a pot in her lap watching glee or some shit

- SPEAKING. OF. glee is most definitely one of her guilty pleasure shows…like shes rewatched it a million times and glee cast was one of her top artists on apple music wrapped

- shes an apple music user. send tweet.

- got yelled at by an old lady once cuz she picked her flowers out of her front yard and gave them to you

- when i tell you that girl goes ham on those tiny clementines… she’ll eat like 10 in one day and theres just PEELS. EVERYWHERE.

- also she fw grapes heavy. especially green grapes (shes a weird little freak red grapes are so much better)

- OBSESSED WITH THOSE BLIND BAG SHITS. especially mini brands oh my god she definitely has the whole lil grocery store set and she’s so obsessed with it.

- her house slippers are definitely just a pair of crocs with the fur inside and a bunch of stupid ass jibbits. she buys the mega packs off amazon and changes them whenever shes bored

- has SO MANY drafts on tiktok and they’re all her trying filters staring at the screen like 😯

- most annoying person to sleep next to ever . snoring, sleep talking, moving around CONSTANTLY and hitting you accidentally, the only way she sleeps peacefully is if you’re holding her or she’s holding you, otherwise shes insane

- weirdly into linguistics…that girl is using humongous words for no good reason just for fun and half the time she has no idea what they mean and when she googles them and shes right about the definition she does that little fist pump and “fuck yes”

- speaking of. that girl is SPEEDRUNNING DUOLINGO . she’s fluent in (bad spaniard) spanish from it, and just learns random languages for fun. you speak a different language? she’s learning it immediately. definitely leaves notes for you in random languages she learned and you have to pull out a translator to understand wtf shes talking about… she also sleep talks in spanish sometimes and its so funny

- loves trying out different recipes…like i said my girl is a CHEF she will be at home fucking up a salmon bake she made and making you homemade pho for dinner

- had a phase when she was younger when she was really into the la bamba movie and dressed like richie valens for two years

- also cried so hard when she watched selena with you…that girl was devastated 💔 every time she hears “dreaming of you” she almost sheds a tear

“when that yolanda bitch gets out of prison….im shooting someone . its obvious who its gonna be.”

- she definitely begged joel to buy her a gun for christmas and he would take her to the range all the time so she can SHOOT. that girl is goated at lazer tag she gets down…does not play

- thought that candy cigarettes were the coolest thing ever when she was little… everywhere she went she had one hanging out of the side of her mouth and shed hold them between her fingers like they do in movies. if you two go to a candy shop shes for sure buying a pack

#loser!ellie #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie x fem reader #ellie x you #ellie williams #ellie williams x you #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou

[wandasfifthwife]

patience is a virtue₊✩°｡⋆˚ ⁺

—wandanat x fem/afab!reader

༺ tw || SMUT MDNI, dom/sub dynamic, dom!wandanat & sub!reader, top!wandanat & bottom!reader, strap (r receiving | w giving), grinding, praise kink?, some impact play (one spanking lmao), overstim, packing (w), giving head (w’s strap | r giving), reader’s described to be shy, not proofread

༺ a/n || I’ve never personally been in a dom/sub relationship, so if I get things wrong that’s why! If you’re getting into one— don’t use this as a guide/reference

— masterlist ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ 2.6kwords₊✩°｡⋆˚ ⁺ next part —

It was dark in the room, a light blue light peeking in keeping it every so often from the curtains being blown around by the AC. You were wide awake, having squirming around for maybe twenty minutes. Neither of them had work, and neither did you. It was a Saturday, a holiday weekend. None of you had work today or tomorrow for that matter.

Wanda was incredibly quiet, the position she’s in extremely similar to the one she had fallen asleep in. Natasha’s the opposite; breathing heavily into the bed with one limb touching you or Wanda at all times. Meaning, most nights you slept behind Natasha, her back facing you so you’re not getting forcefully wrapped. Her embrace is lovely, but not when it’s making your temperature rise over 90° degrees.

She’s still somehow found herself curling around you, her leg resting above yours; the second you’ve begun to pull your leg free, she’s pushing off the bed. She’s obviously half asleep, but her eyes brows are furrowed, concern laced in her expression.

“Why’re you up so early, Kit? It’s like 6:30.”

You check and she’s right, the clock reading 6:27. She’s waiting, eyes heavy but still trying to stay open. You’re not sure why. Too much time goes by, her arms pulling you down into her hold.

“Go back to sleep.”

“But I’m not tired—“

She shushes you, “sleep. It’s too early.”

You try to knock her arms away, growing fidgety when her fingers inch closer to where you’re ticklish. It turns into a bit of a brawl, unfortunately with Natasha winning despite being half awake.

“Why’re you guys up,” Wanda asks, exhaustion seeping into her tone, “if you’re going to be loud, take it into the living room.”

You begin to feel bad, understanding that she had gotten back late last night. Natasha had set a bath after your little event yesterday morning. The only time you saw her was when she had come to say her goodbyes and when she crawled into bed.

You don’t remember much of the day, having fallen asleep an hour after your warm bath. The excessive sleep might be why you were up so early on your own.

“Sorry.”

“You’re fine, just keep it down.”

Natasha ends up staying awake, sitting dazed in the living room. Her hair, usually set in a braid when she sleeps, was unraveled; the wavy hair framing her face also fell into yours from where your head rested on her shoulder.

“I still don’t forgive you for this,” you emphasize your words, sliding your finger down your neck to press on the darkened mark.

“Good.”

You laugh when she noses at your neck, pressing a light kiss to the opposite side of where the mark lay. You can’t help but to shiver, the feeling of her lips and the cold affecting you.

“Aww, are you cold?”

“No,” you mumble, but accept her tighter hold with greed, fingers gripping into her sleep shirt. It was then that your stomach decided to break the moment, embarrassing you.

“We could grab breakfast while Wanda finished sleeping in. There’s a restaurant Wanda and I like just down the road.”

“Oh, sure, I’d love to.”

It was even colder outside, the lack of sun causing the cold to manifest its self everywhere. You had Natash’s coat wrapped around you, given to you by her since she fretted over your less than warm coat.

The wind blew, making you shiver and push faster to keep up with Natasha. Her ability to exude warmth even in 50° weather amazes you. She holds the door for you, slipping a hand by your waist once you’ve entered. The gesture making you nervous, focusing entirely too much on her hand’s placement and not the menu in front of you.

It was cute inside, the menu written in chalk behind the counter. Small plans lined the counters and walls, creating a honey vibe. All of these details went unnoticed to you until Natasha’s fingers pinch at your skin.

“What’s got you so spacey, hm?”

“Sorry,” you turn your gaze away, the puffy fabric of her coat ruffling with your movement.

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Oh look! We’re next to order.”

Natasha glances forward, “there’s two more people.”

“Oh oops, I haven’t decided what I want yet.”

She lets it go, moving in front when your time to order comes. You pull at her shirt after, feeling the need to get the guilt off your chest after seeing her pay for your food.

“You don’t have to keep paying for me, I really am thankful but I have my own job for a reason.”

She’s putting her wallet back in her pocket, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “and there’s also a reason why I’m here with you. Let me care for you.”

“I know,” you lead on, “but this is money you’ve worked hard for. It’s not free like everything else.”

“Am I going around kissing everyone on the street?”

“What? No.”

“Exactly.”

You huff, a smile on your face when though you wish it weren’t there. In response to her buying, you offer to bring it back. She denied at first before letting you help seeing as it brought a smile to your face.

Wanda was in a similar state to how Natasha looked when you came back, eyes half lidded when you both enter. She smiles at the sight, “you two are cute, did you go to that breakfast place?”

“We did, I got something for you to.”

She places it front of her before walking by towards the shower, leaving you with Wanda. She gestures for you, showing you the screen on her phone. An event at a nearby art center, where they were displaying an exhibition.

“I can buy tickets if you’d like to go, I remember you mentioning art school when we first met.”

It was crazy that you first met them just over a week ago when the moments you had with them lately felt like you’ve known them forever. They walked with you back to your house, stopping by momentarily for you to pick up a few things seeing as you’ve all decided you’ll be staying the weekend.

The event wasn’t until later, around dinner time. When the sun had begun to set you three left from their apartment seeing as it was closer to three museum. Wanda’s shadow stands above you, grabbing your attention.

“At the museum there’ll be some ground rules, alright?”

You glance up from putting your shoes on, “okay.”

“Look at me. Don’t run off without at least one of us beside you—there’ll be a lot of people.”

You nod and she continues, “and I know you’re good for us, but if we ask you to move somewhere, I advise you it’s best to listen and not talk back.”

You welcome the kiss from her after, leaning towards her when she pulls away. Her thumb rubs your cheek, “later, if you’re good.”

Her words are a faint whisper, eliciting a response from you. She smiles at your compliance, calling out to Natasha.

It wasn’t difficult to stay close to them, the large crowds making you anxious. The exhibit was beautiful, the paintings and art pieces a contrast from the cream colored walls. Some were simple, paintings showing a lovely landscape. Some were abstract, multiple colors and shades painting a vibrant picture. Wanda preferred to read the manuscript beside each painting, taking her time throughout the exhibit. Natasha was more intrigued by your conversations, learning about each painting through audible description.

There was a section you hadn’t visited, the one on the third level. It was the one you were most looking forward to, the main room you were looking forward to. With how slow Wanda was navigating the room next to the exhibit, you were being driven up the wall. You wonder if she knew. The speed she had feeling like it was slowing down as you got to the end of the room. That’s when you’ve begun to grow impatient. You tried to be appreciative, but you were burnt out and your back was beginning to ache from standing so straight. Wanda had been keeping a hand on your back throughout the night, tapping when she felt you’ve started to slouch again. A faint whine reaches her ear. The expression on your face tired but guilty once she’s looks over at you.

“Hmm?”

“Can we move faster?”

“No, lm having a nice time looking around this room.”

“Then can Natasha and I go together?”

“To that one,” she asks, pointing across the hall to the room you’ve been eyeing the past twenty minutes, “that’s what we came for, kitten. Wait until I’ve finished so we can all go together.”

“No,” you whine, but it’s cut short immediately.

“Do you want to go home?”

“No.”

“Then cut that out now.”

You stop whining, but your impatience still makes its appearance in other ways. You try to distract yourself by talking with Natasha, pulling on Wanda’s arm to make her move faster once she’s reached the last artwork in the room. Each work she reads off the plaque felt like it’s being read in 0.25 speed, not a single word went unread. Your nails were pushing into Natasha’s arm, plastering a smile on your face when Wanda looks back at you. There’s a knowing look on her face; the pained look on Natasha’s face and your tense body language says everything.

“I’m ready to move on,” she finally says.

You and Natasha both sigh in relief for different reasons. Wanda laughs, patting your back as she walks down the hallway.

Your nails unhook themselves from Natasha’s arm, feeling guilty at the nail prints.

“Sorry,” you mumble, rubbing at the marks, “I didn’t realize.”

“It’s fine,” she brings a finger to rub at where you’ve attempted to hide her mark, the faint touch making you shiver.

It seems nice at first, getting to the exhibit you’ve been waiting for. You have had a lovely time, but everything faded away after Wanda had praised you. Her words were spoken close to your ear, words laced with lust, stating how she’s going to reward you. This time you were squirming for something else, impatience burning inside you along with something else. Curiosity.

The second their apartment door was opened, Wanda was on you. She had you up against the wall, the one directly across from the front door. A hand was holding your thigh, hooking it around her waist, allowing her to push further into you. You find it was all intentional when she grinds her hips against yours, pulling a gasp from you when you realize.

“Wands—“

She cuts you off with a slap your thigh, “try again.”

“Mommy,” you say and she nods, willing you to continue, “is that—?”

Her smile is an answer, cold fingers slide under your shirt, circling around to squeeze your ass. You keen, body sliding against hers.

“Get on your knees,” she breathes, pulling away from you.

The sight of looking up at her is pulling the air from your lungs. She’s silently demanding you keep your eyes on her with how tight she’s holding your chin.

“Pat my thigh twice if you need to stop, alright?”

“Yes mommy.”

She moans, making quick work of undoing the belt wrapped around her waist with one hand, her other leaning over you. Her belt falls to the floor, the clanging noise making you squeeze your eyes shut. The feeling of her tapping the tip against your bottom lip brings a blush to your cheeks.

“Open your lips, kitten.”

You do, the feeling of her pushing in has your head hitting the wall behind you. She’s enjoying the sight of you, eyebrows tied together, hands shyly hovering over her thighs. She keeps a hand on her waist, pushing and starting a rhythm that has you moaning. You’re a mess under her, head resting against the wall, jaw relaxed to take her comfortably. Your sounds are muffled around her length, choked and gasping.

She’s deciding it’s enough when tears spill from your eyes. Your chin glistens, lips swollen from her ministrations and it’s all driving her crazy. She’s helping you off the floor, dusting your knees off before carrying you to the bedroom. You’re in a koala hold, legs wrapped around her waist.

“Feel how wet you made it,” she sweet talks, pulling your bottom half off the bed, “it’s all because of you.”

You whine, gripping onto her wrists that lie beside your head. She pecks your lips, “please tell me you’ll say whenever you feel in pain, or uncomfortable, or if you need to stop?”

“I will,” you breathe, “I promise.”

She lines up before pushing her hips forward, eyes growing cloudy at the sounds you make as she bottoms out. You wince when it pushes up, her size stretching you out still.

She runs a finger around where you meet, “you’re so tight around me.”

Her hips jerk unexpectedly, pressing against a spot that makes you see white. You’re whining, begging her to move with a push of your legs around her waist.

Your moans echos throughout the room, loud and airy. Natasha’s been in the shower long than usual, fingers moving in circles around her clit at your pretty sounds. Unbeknownst to her Wanda’s doing the same for you, a thumb rubbing against your bud until you feel you’re about to blackout.

“Mommy—please can I?”

“Yes,” it’s a simple response but it’s all you’re needing to hear, a choked whimper bubbling out from your throat as you’ve been brought to the edge.

Wanda flips you over, not giving you a moment and pressing your face into the mattress with the force of each thrust. You couldn’t help but to cry out into the sheets, the pleasure she brought on overwhelming you.

“Mommy!”

“Mm, you’re taking it so well. I’m so proud, you want to make me proud, right?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you gasp, reaching a hand to grip at the sheets above your head, pushing back against her. The pleasure from your orgasm before increases each time her tip presses deeper into you.

“Please, please—I’m going to again.”

“Beg.”

“Mommy, please let me come. I’ve been good.”

Natasha comes to sit by the edge, a towel thrown tied across her body. She’s thankful for leaving when she did, it was the perfect time to watch you come a second time, body writing from the pleasure overwhelming your body.

Natasha brushes the tears from your eyes, hoping to distract you from Wanda pulling out.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Hold me?”

She complies, not caring about the thin shine on your body despite having just finishing a shower. It was only a “shower” anyways.

She’s holding you until Wanda’s finished throwing on a large shirt, clothes from before thrown into the hamper. Natasha passes you over so she can do the same, leaving to step inside their closet.

“Shh, you did so good.”

She runs a hand down your arm, smiling at the goosebumps forming from her touch. You’re out of breath, forehead leaning against her cold chest to fight the heat wrapped around your body.

“Would you like to take a shower, a bath?”

“A showers fine,” you respond, voice raspy.

You both actually ended up taking a shower because your legs shook when you tried to stand. Wanda was concerned you’d slip, especially seeing how your hips swayed. She spares you any teasing, carefully walking you into the bathroom.

“People are going to know you two mess with me,” you speak up from your place in the bathtub, watching Wanda brush her hair in front of the mirror.

“They might. Is this something you’re worried about?”

“Yeah,” you circle the water around your finger, “I love it, I’m just shy showing it to others.”

“And that’s alright. Not everyone will get it as good as you do, you don’t have to be shy.”

“Oh. Okay well that’s—“

— masterlist ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊taglist below₊✩°｡⋆˚ ⁺ next part —

@simpforlizzie @maggieromanov @angelbeingatitspurest @cerberus-spectre @olicity-boo @huggingkoalas @wandasbunnyy @babykingslayer @marigoldenblooms @godhatesgoodgirls @evmaximoff @tobiaslut @lzzysfreak @caporaI-nino @mommysfavouritegirl @gemz5 @dorabledewdroop @foxherder @madamevirgo @natashaswife4125 @peaceitsnaee @radcherryblossompainter @sagesayshi @andersonsprincess @wandanat01

#baby I’m yours series #wandanat x reader #wandanat x fem!reader #wandanat x afab!reader #wandanat x you #wandanat fanfic #wandanat #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda x fem!reader #wanda x afab!reader #wanda x natasha x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader smut #natasha romanoff marvel #marvel natasha romanov #dom!natasha #dom!wanda #sub!reader #marvel fanfic #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x you #Wanda Maximoff x afab!reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #natasha romanov x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader

[daisynik7]

Fortunate

cw: ~900 words, established relationship, fluff, happy ending, some angst, implied Season 2/Shibuya arc spoilers, smut (but very brief) - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Author’s Note: This is for @honeybleed's 90s r&b collab, congrats again on the amazing milestone! This is inspired by the song Fortunate by Maxwell. Thanks for reading! Divider by @/cafekitsune.

Nanami wakes up in the cold sweat, gasping for breath to fill his lungs, as if he’s been drowning in his sleep. His heart races, pounding so hard against his chest that he’s sure it’s about to burst out of his ribcage. The entire left side of his body tingles, the remnants of a traumatic injury from almost a year ago. 

It takes him a few seconds to realize that you’re holding him, clinging to his right side, staring at him with concern in your face. “Bad dream?” you ask, eyes wet with tears you try to blink away. Your voice trembles, attempting to hide it, though Nanami can still tell.

He recalls the moment from right before he woke up. He was engulfed by fire, every inch of his skin scorching from the flames, gradually burning him away. Flashes of memories and familiar faces played out like a montage in a movie. Gojo’s cocky smirk, Yuji’s eager expression, Haibara’s bright smile. What you wore on your first date, how soft your hand felt in his the first time he held you, the song the two of you danced to the first time he said, “I love you.” Breakfast every morning at the dining table, mid-afternoon naps on the couch, making love until the two of you fall asleep in each other’s arms.  

No matter how many times he relives it in his sleep or how vividly he remembers the pain from that night in Shibuya, nothing will ever hurt worse than that split second into the afterlife, when he was sure he’d never see you again. How lucky he is to be able to say that never came true. 

He walked through fire, fought through hell, dug out of his own grave, all that to return to you. And he’d do it again and again and again. How fortunate he is that he doesn’t have to anymore. It’s one of the biggest perks of being a retired Jujutsu Sorcerer.

He shifts in the bed to face you, breathing steady now. “Absolute nightmare,” he says, giving you a half smile. 

You swallow hard, brushing away strands of blonde hair to wipe off the perspiration beading on his forehead. “Well, you’re awake now.”

His smile grows into a full one as he scoots closer, nuzzling his nose to yours. “Thank god for that.”

You wrap your arms around him, squeezing him tight. “You’re still shaking. Pretty bad, huh?”

He closes his eyes, cherishing this feeling of being surrounded in your warmth. “Yeah.”

“The same?”

“Yeah,” he repeats, not elaborating. You already know what he dreams about. The nights you stayed up with him as he twisted himself into the blankets, tossing and turning from the fight that still weighs heavily on his mind. He doesn’t know what he’d do if you weren’t there beside him, to comfort and console him back to sleep. He wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for you. 

You take his face into your hands, cupping his cheeks tenderly. The skin on his left side is taut from his injuries, which have healed nicely since that incident. You trace his scars, marveling at how beautiful he is. Evidence that he’s alive. What’s more beautiful than that? Closing the gap, you kiss him softly on the lips. His hands slide around your back, pulling you in deeper. 

Sometimes, words aren’t enough to put each other back to sleep. On a night like this, with only the glow of the full moon barely peeking through the shutters and the even rhythm of your heartbeats filling the quiet space between you, it’s only right to melt into one another. 

His thumbs hook to the waistband of your pajamas, pulling them past your bottom, now exposed for him. He squeezes your flesh in his firm grip, using little strength to roll you on top of him. He loves it like this. Something about having your body on top of his makes him feel safe. Secure. You trail along his neck, kissing his scars, whispering, “I love you,” into his skin. He relaxes into the pillows, letting you worship his tattered body, the same way you would as before. You never treated him like a broken man after the horrors of Shibuya. Instead, you’re a constant reminder that’s he’s in one piece. 

Slowly, with no rush to fall back asleep, you undress each other. He twitches slightly as you palm his erection, craving more than your fist. You don’t make him wait long, reaching for the nightstand to retrieve the bottle lube to properly coat him. Straddling his lap, you guide him inside you until you are stretched perfectly around his cock. You stay still for a moment, relishing the sensation of being completely full of him. “I love you,” he says, cradling you as you begin to rock back and forth. You kiss lazily, taking the time to savor each other. 

After you’re finished and cleaned up, you’re both back on the verge of sleep. You nestle into his broad chest, listening to his heartbeat to ease you into a peaceful slumber. Before you’re gone, you whisper, “We’re so lucky, aren’t we, Kento?”

He smiles, placing a delicate kiss to your forehead, snuggling you tighter. “You have no idea.” 

#nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami smut #nanami x you #nanami fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x you #nanami kento fluff #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami smut #kento nanami x you #kento nanami #kento nanami fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut

[astroph1les]

only on camera | e.w

summary: you and your girlfriend, ellie, find an old camcorder at local thrift store. it’s fun, domestic, and sweet until the two of you decide to use it to make your own personal movie.

pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

contains: mature content, modern! ellie, established relationship, fluff, smut— oral (r!receiving), fingering (r!receiving), reader and ellie are roughly 19-20, ellie is obsessed with reader, reader is described to have a soft stomach and stretch marks so its open to all body types.

word count: 3.3K

a/n: i’ve been debating to post another ellie oneshot and even writing anymore for a while now because of everything that has been going on gaza. i hope you guys click on the links below to educate and keep yourself updated on the horrors that the people of gaza are going through. free palestine.

FREE PALESTINE | DAILY CLICK | DO NOT BUY TLOU2 REMASTERED

It started on a simple thrifting date.

You and Ellie often shopped at your local thrift stores for a multitude of reasons: it's cheap for not only clothing but accessories as well. You had a slight addiction to the purse and jeans section. There was nothing you loved more than finding a good pair of jeans.

But today, you decided to linger in the electronics section. Ellie trailed behind you with a shopping cart that already had a bunch of pants and cheesy graphic tees for the two of you to try on.

You picked up a small speaker, examining it for its quality.

“Ellie?” You hum to Ellie who was already holding up a chunky VHS camera.

“Babe, check this out,” Ellie walked around the cart to hold up the flipped screen to you.

You set the speaker down on the metal shelf, leaning over to see that the early late 90’s camera was still working properly. With just your luck, too, there were a few tapes next to where Ellie had picked it up from.

“Holy shit, this still works?” You grin as you fidget with the settings. “Should we get this?”

Ellie let out a scoff before nodding: “Fuck yeah. We could record videos to look back on when we’re miserable and old as shit. Like thirty or something.”

You shake your head at her dramatics.

“Thirty is not old but yeah, it could be fun.” You lean into her side, pointing to the tapes and charger that were still plugged into the camcorder. “Grab the tapes, please?”

You tilt your head with a smile at her. Ellie blushes at the eye contact you made with her, kissing your cheek before taking the tapes and charger into her hands. She nervously scratched at her ear as she set the objects into the cart where the child seat was, hoping you didn't see how pink her cheeks turned.

God, she was so adorable.

She would deny the accusation constantly with a shake of her head and a mutter of ‘no, I’m not’ being the stubborn girl she is.

After trying that on all of the clothing, you ended up only narrowing down to a few pairs of jeans and the camera plus the equipment. Once you got back to Ellie’s place, it started out with a few recordings of you doing nothing.

“So, vlog, my beautiful, hot, and sexy girlfriend is getting ready for the day,” Ellie pressed record and held up the camera to you who was applying sunscreen to your freshly washed face. “Not that she needs to because, damn, look at her.”

You let out a groan as you shake your head, now applying your moisturizer right after.

“Babe, you can record at any other time. Why right now?” You chuckle as she just gets closer, zooming into your eyes.

“What do you have to say to your future self who is probably already very happily married to me?” Ellie ignores your complaint, grinning as she backs up a little to get your entire face into the frame.

“Is she still giving that good top?” You deadpan to which Ellie chuckles at.

“I wish I could stop, baby,” she cups your face with one hand, smirking from behind the camera.

“Els,’” you trail off, almost warningly as your cheeks flushed.

Without missing a beat, you playfully slap the camera out gently of your face. Ellie dramatically gasps at your actions, holding the camera at an angle so she can clean the lens with her black wife pleaser.

“Hey! You brought it up.” She shrugged her shoulders as if it were nothing, showing off her outfit in the full-body mirror on the back of the bedroom door.

You smile adoringly at her from your set-up in your vanity mirror, hearing her hype herself up. You had just applied a good amount of your base before motioning for her to come over to you once again. Ellie walked over to you, grinning happily.

“It’s your turn, Els,” you grab the chunky camera from her.

She reluctantly lets you take it from her and crosses her arms in front of her chest, looking at you patiently. You pan the camera up and down as she was wearing a very basic outfit but damn, she always looked good. The way she crossed her arms accentuated her biceps and the big tattoo on her forearm.

“What do you have to say to your future self, baby?” You look at her through the small screen and then at her in real life.

Ellie hummed as she scratched at her jaw. The awful lighting from just your open-blind window made it more homey to you.

“You better not fuck it up with this perfect girl right here.” Ellie points to you with a slight grin as she notices your own smile from behind the camera.

A lot of the videos were just like that. Domestic and homey as the locations changed between your house and hers. Joel even made a few appearances like, for instance, his 58th birthday. All of your family and Joel’s threw a barbecue to which you and Ellie had traded interviewing your sides of the family.

Sarah gave a few loving words for her dad, Jesse, and Dina covered the lens the entire time Ellie tried to record them, and your parents made a few jokes about him being ‘damn near in the grave already.’

Now, you were standing in front of Joel who was working the grill. Ellie was busy already tearing into a few hot dogs so you took the time to ask him some questions.

“So, Joel, how do you feel being fifty-eight?” You record him.

“I feel the same as last year. Ain’t nothin’ special,” he shook his head as if you were bothering him but you knew he was just being a grump for the camera.

“Well, birthday boy, describe what it's like being almost sixty,” you chuckle as he places a hand on his hip, looking at you this time with raised brows.

“Old as hell. Now, here, eat.” He grumbled as he grabbed a hot dog for you and placed it on a paper plate.

You giggled as his southern accent was hilarious when he got all grumpy. He just sounded like a Texan grandpa who’s always complaining about kids these days.

“I figured. Happy birthday, Joel.” You warmly smile at him as you shut the small screen and walk over to hug him.

He tensed for a moment, holding the tongs out of the way. He relaxed into your embrace before pointing at your hot dog.

“Thanks, kid. Now, eat before the damn flies get to it first.” Joel kissed the top of your head before releasing your body.

You let out a soft laugh as you grabbed the white plate before walking over to where Ellie was sitting with her step-sister, Sarah. You send Sarah a smile as you set the camera down next to Ellie, watching her lick the mustard off of her fingers. You grimace at her messy eating before Sarah tells her to stop being gross.

Ellie put her middle finger up at her with an annoyed expression. You grabbed her finger and put it down as your parents were only a few feet away from the two of you.

A few more days passed and you and Ellie had a rather sensual make-out session in her bedroom. Her hands were already up your Beatles oversized t-shirt, the feeling of her palms groping at your tits sending shivers up your spine. You were underneath her, your own hands cupping the sides of her face as you moaned softly into her mouth.

Ellie pulled away suddenly which only caused you to whine, missing her touch.

“Can I get the camera, baby?” She asked you, moving one of her hands down to your hips underneath your shirt and squeezing the flesh.

You nod your head frantically, not even hesitating. The idea was brought up maybe two minutes after purchasing the camera. Ellie said it as a joke but you knew that you would make a million sex tapes with your girl. She made you feel like the sexiest version of yourself and you were curious to see what that looked like on video. Plus, no risk of it getting stuck on the cloud of either of your phones.

Ellie leaned down to peck your lips as she stood up from her bed to grab it from the top of her dresser, right next to her cologne. You sit up slightly as you wait patiently for her to start the camera fixing your hair a bit. You knew the footage was solely going to be between you and her but it didn't hurt to try and make sure you look good.

“Look at my pretty girl,” Ellie’s voice is dripping in lust as she points the lens directly at your flushed and panting figure on the bed.

You somehow managed to blush even more, practically beaming at her compliment. You didn't know what to do now that it was a reality. All you were doing was looking up at her from her standing figure.

How did pornstars do this?

“What do you want me to do, hmm?” Ellie cupped your cheek, her inked arm coming into the frame.

Your face leaned into her touch, sighing at the feeling. Her thumb teasing ran over the swollen skin of your bottom lip. Being the horny shit you were, your jaw fell open in hopes Ellie would slip the finger into your awaiting mouth.

But no; she continued to trace the supple skin with a cocky grin on her face.

“You want my finger, baby?” Ellie hums as she tightens her grip ever so slightly.

“Maybe.” You raise your brows, your pupils blown with desire practically giving you away.

“Maybe?” She looks at you with her head tilted, her own brows raised to match yours. “The way you instantly opened your mouth said something way different.”

You shake your head and take her thumb into your mouth seconds after that, sucking on it with a smile. Ellie muttered a curse under her breath as she watched you through the pixelated screen, wondering how she got so lucky with you.

You, being the tease you are, pull away after about a minute to look up at her with need in your eyes. While still looking up at her, you removed your oversized tee to reveal your bare chest. Your hair settled over your shoulders, framing your face perfectly. You were only in your cheeky cotton maroon panties.

“Jesus, fuck me.” Ellie angled the camera down to your tits, having a little too much fun holding it.

“Alright, give me it, Els.” You snatched the camera from her, pointing it up at Ellie’s towering figure. “You want to eat me out or what?”

Ellie couldn't help but chuckle at your bluntness and confidence now that the camera wasn’t on you. Regardless, she kneeled down on the bed with a ready sigh. She leaned over the camera to capture your lips into a gentle kiss, making you smile giddily.

Your smile was infectious, Ellie, too, smiling so much to the point where she had to pull away. Ellie began to scoot more down your body as you pointed the camera down at her figure. She was caressing your sides as her lips kissed at your chest, moving more and more downwards to your tits. Your breath hitches as she takes your left nipple into her mouth, the warmth and wetness of her tongue sending pleasure down your spine.

Ellie palms both of your tits, looking up at the lens and then your flushed face from behind it. She continues to suck on your hard nipple, smirking when your hips buck into her own.

“Feels good, Els,” you whimper, your arms already becoming weaker.

Ellie hums against your damp skin, pulling away to grope and admire them. She was annoyingly still in her sports bra and her boxers, revealing nothing to you. If you weren't so clouded by the want of her mouth on your pussy, you would’ve said something.

Ellie’s long fingers hook at the waistband of your panties, looking up at you with a silent question of if it was okay. You nod with a grin, lifting your hips to help her. Ellie slid the dampened underwear down your legs. You could see the wet patch on the crotch area, a slight pang of embarrassment flowing through you.

Ellie, thankfully, began to place feather-soft kisses on the plush of your stomach. You watch her trail her lips down from your skin, inching closer to above your pubic bone.

“Fuck, baby, look at how wet you are,” Ellie teased your drenched folds, the obscene sound causing you to blush shyly.

She holds up her pointer and middle finger, the clear slick of your arousal glistening. She practically shoves them into the lens as you groan at her actions.

“Els, please, don’t. I don’t want my… juices on the camera.” You cringe at the way you phrased it but end up giggling at Ellie’s disgusted face.

“Well, I love your juices,” Ellie quickly grinned devilishly as she sucked off those fingers.

She drove you insane with the smallest things. When she kissed and caressed the plush of your hips and thighs, whispering how ‘sexy’ and ‘perfect’ you are to her. Even touching into the stuff you tended to be more insecure about like the stretch marks on your body.

You never worried about those toxic mind-consuming thoughts with Ellie.

”Can I see the camera, baby? Wanna get this view right here.” Ellie reached for it to which you handed back.

She aimed the camera lens more towards your crotch, legs spread to reveal how much your cunt was needing some release. You suck in a deep breath and adjust yourself as Ellie muttered praises as she ran her fingers carefully over your throbbing clit and soaked folds.

Beginning to grow impatient, you let out a soft noise. Ellie notices that you are becoming more and more needy for something, anything, so she leans over your panting body and sets the camera on the bedside table. The small screen was flipped so that Ellie could adjust it so that the two of you were in the frame. Your hands find their way over Ellie’s body and up into her hair.

You tug her down into a messy kiss, humming as Ellie is caught off guard by your force and nearly slipping from how she was holding herself up with one arm. She moaned softly against your lips, enjoying how your nails were scraping against her scalp.

She hungrily moved down your body, growing impatient herself. You pant softly as you watch her place messy kisses on the curves of your skin as she finally makes her way to your desperate cunt. You let out a soft sigh as she licks one teasing stripe over your clit.

“Look so pretty, Els.” You murmur as you move her falling strands of hair out of her face, a slight whine leaving your mouth.

And, god, she really did. Her eyelids were heavy over her gorgeous eyes as she looked up at you with a slight smile on her lips. She lazily kissed over the sensitive bud, that cheeky smile growing as your hips stuttered.

“My sweet girl.” She teased two fingers over your wet folds, letting out a groan at the obscene sight.

You continue to caress her face and head of hair, never wanting to tear your eyes away from your girlfriend. She glanced up at you as she carefully slid her middle finger into your warm cunt. She kept telling you how good you felt around her fingers and how much she missed your ‘perfect pussy’.

For a moment, you forgot about the camera that was recording your every move. The mic picks up every whine, moan, the sound of Ellie’s fingers fucking into you.

“Baby,” you pant, allowing your hips to grind and follow her curling fingers.

Ellie merely hummed in question as she peered up at you with hooded eyes. You nearly forgot what you were going to be begging for.

More. You just needed more. More of her touch and her lips everywhere. The tightening coil in your lower abdomen and the desperate hump of your hips alerted you that you were getting closer to your orgasm.

“I’m gonna cum,” you admit, feeling almost embarrassed by how quickly it was happening.

Ellie pulled her mouth off of you as her arm continued to pump her fingers inside of you. Your chin tilts up, hands reaching up to cradle her face. Ellie hungrily leaned down to kiss you, moaning at the sound of you whimpering against her slick-covered lips.

You were whispering pleads as she continued to fuck you like her life depended on it. Ellie leaned back to look down at her movements before glancing at the camera.

“Cum for me, baby. Need something to help me later on when I watch this over and over just to see how beautiful you look cumming for me.” Ellie groans into your ear.

Your hand reaches down to grip at her wrist but Ellie grabs your hand to kiss at your palm as another form of stimulation. You whine as your hips stutter and you feel a sharp feeling running down your spine. Ellie mutters curses as she feels you clamp down on her two fingers as your orgasm takes over.

You let out a few louder moans as you sit up carefully to let yourself ride out the orgasm.

“Fuck, Els,” you whisper as you try and come down from the high as easily as possible.

“Hey, hey, lay back, baby,” Ellie ever so slightly pressed on your lower abdomen so that your back was against the mattress once again.

Feeling light and lazy, you do as she had told you. You take slow breaths as you shut your eyes. Ellie’s body hovers over yours for a moment and you hear the hard plastic being lifted from the bedside table. You open one eye to see Ellie was aiming the camera towards the cum that was leaking. Her already wet fingers were running through your folds, being as filthy as ever.

“How’s it look?” You hum with a playful grin.

“You know, perfect, I guess,” Ellie shrugs her shoulders but her grin tells you she’s matching your energy.

As tired as you were, you wanted to make Ellie feel good too. You sit up to come face to face with her, leaning close to capture her lips into a gentle kiss. Ellie hums against your lips, setting the camera on the empty mattress right next to you both. Pulling away, you take her hand that was inside of you and raise it to your lips.

“You're gonna wanna record this, Els,” You tilt your head towards the still-recording camera.

Ellie didn't have to be told twice as she leaped for the boxy hunk of plastic and aimed the lens at your pretty plumped lips. You lick up the length of her fingers, tasing your own arousal. Ellie watched you through the small screen, wondering how fucking lucky she got with you.

You had no idea who infatuated the freckled girl was with you. Your eyes flickered to Ellie behind the camera, her pale skin practically a poppy red shade from how flustered she was. You popped off her long fingers, kissing the pads of her middle and ring fingers before sitting back on your ass as you looked at her with raised eyebrows.

“You think I’ll be a star?” You ask again, playing into the pornstar role-play.

Ellie blew a huff of air as she cupped your face to peck at your lips: “Without a doubt, babe.”

#ellie williams #ellie williams x f!reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x you #wlw smut #sapphic #wlw #ellie tlou2 #lgbtq community #lesbian

[peachypinkygloss]

what's wrong and right — pjm

Your two bodies make one, you complete each other and if one piece is missing, nobody can continue to live normally. So when a fight shreds your couple apart, the worst happens and his true nature comes out.

♡⃛ Pairing: Jimin x Fem!Reader

♡⃛ Genre: established relationship, smut, angst

♡⃛ Word count: 10.7k

♡⃛ Warnings: 90% is smut :D, messy story that only makes sense to me but whatever bcs it's pwp, consensual non-consent, role-play such as kidnapping & pseudo incest, non-con to a certain extent, brief mention of eating disorders, jimin is the sweetest bf, ig he could be considered a yandere but I won't say he is because I don't want to, fluffy stuff, short break up that only exists to create make-up sex, jimin realizes things..., dom jimin/sub reader, unprotected sex, use of the word r*pe in an erotic context, sex tapes (this aspect was supposed to be explained but just go along with it for now), dd/lg, praising & light degradation, clit stimulation, oral (f & m), cum eating, unrealistic amount of cum *cough*.

A.N.: Check this before reading the fic, please. Kind reminder to be mature and avoid the content you don't like. 🫶🏻 Thank you my baby @trulythv for reading it first 👀 and for thirsting over this crazy man with me who I like to call the best bf ever🕺

Playing: Sometimes - Mattyeux & Princess Chelsea ,, Cent fois - Alice et Moi ,, Can't Help Myself - Alexandra Savior.

✧˖*°࿐

Looking at you through the rear mirror, Jimin smiles. You're so pretty. He really loves you, he loves his beautiful girlfriend. Your eyes are shut, long lashes gracing your under eyes. He can't see your lips, but it doesn't take away your beauty, no, you're so much prettier like that.

He looks back in front of him, pushing on the brake pedal with his foot as the car comes to a halt. He likes the spot he found; away from the city, far into the forest. He can be alone with you with no risk of someone falling upon the both of you.

He opens the driver's door and gets out of his truck, walking around it to come to your side. He pulls on the door's handle, revealing your little body lying down on the black leather seats. The corners of his lips are lifted up when he sees you and he grips your tied up ankles, bringing you closer to the edge of the seat.

He sits you up and you seem a little bit dizzy, but it's normal since you've just woken up from a quick nap. He then carefully removes the grey tape that is covering your mouth, making sure to not hurt you.

"Hi, baby," he whispers, smiling when you blink up and look at him. "How are you feeling?" He asks in a pouty voice, babying you, and it makes you feel safe, cared for.

"Tired..." You respond and your body feels sore. Jimin understands, this was a quite long car ride and laying down on the back seats doesn't seem really comfortable.

"Oh, sweetheart, I know. I'm sorry," he apologizes, taking you in his arms. He embraces you in a warm hug and you nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck, sniffing the pleasant odour of his cologne.

He lets you go and takes out his phone from his front pocket, unlocking it to access the camera app. He puts his phone down on the truck's floor, leaning it against the bottom of the seats, facing the exterior. He'll let the door open so the camera can capture everything that will happen outside.

He starts the recording, which means you have to be in characters. One arm under your knees and the other around your waist, he picks you up easily. You whine softly when your butt leaves the seat, watching where Jimin is bringing you.

There are trees and a lake ahead of you. He decides to put you down just in front of the first tree that is right in the angle of the camera. He kneels before you and grips your knees, pulling your legs apart. Your feet stay together since they are attached to each other.

He sees your white panties with flower patterns on them, your skirt lifted up over your plushy thighs. Jimin licks his lips, the sight of your core making him hungry.

"Please, don't..." You squeak when his fingers travel your inner thigh, almost reaching your clothed pussy. They're cold, adorned in chunky silver rings, veins pulsing along his strong arm.

He glances up at you as you beg for him to do something he doesn't intend to do at all. He smiles, still caressing your soft skin with his fingertips. He smirks, eyes glinting with malice in them.

"Jimin," you whisper his name, as if to reason him, to beg again for something he can't promise. "Don't hurt me."

His smile expands. "I would never," he whispers back, bending down to reduce the gap separating your two bodies. His lower half settles between your legs, he places his lips beside your ear. "Never hurt you," he affirms and when he backs away to look at your face, your eyes are filled in water.

He puts a palm over your cheek, caressing softly, swiping his thumb under your eye which causes a tear to fall down. He observes you for a minute, the singing of the birds and the quiet flow of the lake filling up the silence. You cry quietly, crumpling his white t-shirt between your fists. You need to have him against you, despite yourself.

He makes some space between him and your legs, griping you by the calves to lift them up. He takes his time to run his hands over your exposed skin, groping the meaty flesh of your thighs. He then focuses on your ankles and carefully unties the knot that attaches them together.

He gets rid of the rope, throwing it away on the ground. Free from any restrain, Jimin can part your legs wider, spread them how he likes it. Bend in half, that's how he prefers because he has your beautiful cunt on full display for him to play with.

He pushes your thighs over to your chest and normally you would hold them up, but you can't right now, so Jimin does it for you. Hands behind your knees, legs in the air, he places his clothed bulge against your pulsing core. You shudder, so close to him, yet so far to be connected with him.

"So perfect for me, just the right size..." He praises, looking down between your legs where he rubs his crotch against yours. "You were made for me, this is how it should be," he blathers, his voice a little husky, a little desperate. "Just me and you, baby." He says, the only thing he can really promise.

He slides his hand down your thigh, feeling all the goosebumps that travel your skin. Your stomach twists and your mouth hangs open, watching Jimin play with you. Shaking the toy in front of your eyes to lure you in the game.

You gasp when he suddenly hooks his fingers under the band of your panties and roughly strips you off of them. But he leaves them around your ankles, the flimsy material hanging around them. He keeps a hand under your thighs to hold them up, pushing them over your stomach so your pussy can be accessible to him.

He licks his lips before touching your clit with his middle finger, making you flinch, his cold skin contrasting with your own that is burning hot. He passes his digit through your folds, feeling how wet you are already. His cock hardens in his pants and he can't wait to free himself to fuck you senseless on the ground, in the middle of the woods, a camera filming your entire intercourse.

He brings some of your arousal to your clit, making this more pleasurable for you. He pinches your bud of nerves between his thumb and index finger, pulling on it gently and toying with it. You squirm around and whine, which annoys Jimin.

"Behave," he scolds and sends you a hard glare. He pinches it harshly and you try not to move a muscle, but it's complicated with your clit trapped between his fingers.

You sob, throwing your arms over your head, gripping the grass to refrain yourself from reacting to his touch on your private parts. He plays with your sensitive bud a bit more, occasionally sliding a skillful finger through your slicks.

Finally, Jimin presses a finger on your clit and moves his digit from side to side to stimulate it. He moves it quickly, eliciting soft moans from you. He's concentrating on his task as he looks at your pussy intently, seeing how much wetter you are now.

"Ah! Minnie, stop it!" You cry out, pulling on the grass, keeping your legs up even if you yell for him to stop. He won't and you know it.

"Shh, pretty baby. It's okay," he reassures you, but the tingles he creates in your body are so strong, you can't ignore them. You tremble underneath him, arching your back as you roll your eyes. The pleasure of sex and the lust it brings you will always be stronger than you.

Jimin is very pleased, licking his lips obscenely, watching you fall apart just from a simple flick of his finger on your poor little clit. And then your orgasm shoots through you, making you moan and juts your hips upwards.

"That's it, sweetheart, just let it go..." He encourages you with sweet words and you feel dizzy, much more than before when Jimin picked you up in his arms. "Such a good girl," he purrs, caressing your thighs to soothe you while you get down from your high, pussy clenching around nothing.

He takes off your panties from around your ankles, stuffing them in his back pocket to not get them dirty. Your legs fall down on the ground, shaking slightly, recovering from your clitoral orgasm. You whine softly and fight to keep your eyes open, perceiving Jimin reaching for his zipper.

The sound makes you shiver, heart beating incredibly fast and mind fuzzy, filled with white clouds. You pull on your wrists, a strong desire of touching him, of touching your lover going through you, but you can't, unfortunately.

"I'm going to fuck you, m'kay, baby?" He announces while looking down at his crotch, lowering his pants down his thighs. He palms his bulge before lifting his gaze up to you. "Be a good girl for me," he orders, and finally frees his cock out of his briefs.

You've seen it so many times before, yet this moment still makes you flustered. Jimin is really imposing and this isn't to displease you at all. He strokes himself a couple of times, spreading his pre-cum over his length and looking at you with so much desire it makes you shudder with all your being.

He aligns his cock with your entrance, swiping his tip through your wet folds, mixing his pre-cum with your natural arousal. You let a moan out of your mouth and open your legs wider for him. He growls at that, gripping your plushy thigh and sinking his nails into your skin. He leaves small crescent forms all over your flesh, a sign of his passing on you, a sign of property.

"This had to happen, sweetheart..." He tells you while he pushes in slowly, your pussy expanding as he forcefully enters you. You gasp, blinking to let the tears fall from your eyes down to your cheeks. "I'd like to say that I'm sorry, but- fuck," he curses when he's all the way in, your walls contracting around him. "I'm really not."

Your stomach tightens at that, body reacting to his words despite your will not to. He stays still, thighs trembling a little bit from the pleasure. He looks like he's in total bliss, blond strands of hair dangling in front of his sweet eyes, pupils fully dilated.

He locks your legs behind his back and you whine, the movement making him penetrate you deeper until his balls touch your ass. He whimpers and holds you against him, never letting you go even if you don't want to.

He leaves his mouth open so it's easier to breathe and he frowns, creating a crease between his soft brows. The first thrust makes him curse under his breath and you cry out quietly, keeping your eyes locked with his. He collides his hips against yours with force, your boobs bouncing on your chest from the harsh stroke.

He starts fucking you, entering and exiting your hole at a regular pace. "Ah, shit," he hisses, gripping your hips harder. "Your pussy feels so good, baby," he compliments, completely thrown away by the pleasure.

"Minnie," you cry, reaching for his t-shirt and pulling on it to have him against you. He groans at your neediness, mind clouded with you only. He sticks his chest to yours, feeling your perky nipples against him.

He takes a hold of your jaw, boring his eyes into yours while he pounds his dick in your pussy until both of your skin turn sore and hurt. He touches your neck with his lips, then leaves wet and warm kisses all over your face. Finally, he connects his plump lips with yours, stealing your breath away and muffling your moans.

You whine into the feverish kiss you're sharing with Jimin, feeling so overwhelmed by his hip thrusts. Unfortunately, he has to break the kiss, but he stays over you, breathing onto your face. His hand shifts to your neck, slowly enclosing your throat with his fingers. The cool feeling of his rings makes more goosebumps appear on your skin.

"Mmh... you like this, don't you?" He questions and you blink up at him, whining as a response. "I know you would, baby," he growls back, pecking your jaw and the side of your neck. "Know you'd like me to rape this pretty pussy..." He mewls into your ear and another wave of heat travels your body.

Your tears make your vision fuzzy and you decipher Jimin's face with difficulty, but you sense his presence really clearly, him using you as a way to release himself and his build-up frustration. You scrunch his t-shirt between your fists, knowing that this is your boyfriend and that you desire him as much as he desires you.

"Y-Yes, Minnie, I like it," you breathe out and he feels your throat vibrate under his palm. You whine when he gives you a particularly hard thrust that goes deeply into your guts, his cock reaching your sweet spot that makes you see stars.

He starts to get rougher, reaching for his high rather than enjoying as long as he can the feeling of your walls clenching around him. He likes the current situation, you tied up under him and creaming his cock, but you can't stay here much longer.

"Shit, baby," he curses and he bites down on his lip, tilting his head down to look where your two bodies connect. He lifts your skirt over your belly, revealing your pretty cunt to him. "So good for me, so helpless and dumb..." Seeing his dick pounding into your messy pussy makes his cock twitch into you, encouraging him to go even harder, literally destroying you from the inside.

He pins your wrists over your head again and his hand on your neck changes places, fumbling your breast in his palm. Your eyes roll back into your skull and you arch your back, the air becoming constricted, Jimin's own breath fanning across your face and yours hitting his cheek.

Your face feels hot, your breath is heavy and every touch is overwhelming, sending you into a wave of pleasure. His cock sliding in your pussy and brushing against your walls turn you brainless, to a point where you can't form any intelligent thoughts other than ones about Jimin. Your mind is filled with him as well as your cunt, him, the only thing you want.

You moan as the knot in your stomach tightens and he growls as he feels your pussy sucking in him. "I love you, Jimin, please..." You cry in pleasure, words of affection the only thing you can think of right now. "Love you," you repeat quietly and he forces himself to look back at you, seeing the beautiful pearls falling over your cheekbones, sliding down the side of your face.

His heart melts, soft eyes meeting yours and he smiles sweetly at you. No matter how much he wants to destroy your little body and mark it as his, showing to everybody that you're his property, your desperation will always make him weak.

"I love you too, sweetheart," he says back, not hesitating to show you his love. "I love my pretty baby so much." He kisses your neck, trailing his plushy lips over your shivering skin, leaving feathery kisses all over you. He hides his face in the crook of your neck while he drives his dick into you, leading the both of you closer to orgasm.

He likes control, but he likes even more the fact that you love giving it to him because you trust Jimin, your boyfriend. This is how it goes, how it's supposed to be. You submitting to him, agreeing to leave all of your problems behind to be taken care of by him. This is how you want it, how you need it.

"Together, please," you request and you feel him smiling against your neck, butterflies erupting in your belly. "Minnie," you insist and his hips go slower.

He raises his head and hovers above you. "My pretty baby wants to cum with me?" He teases and you nod repeatedly, pouting. "That's what you want, yeah?" He tilts his head to the side, eyes glinting mischievously, but also lovingly. He can't help finding your neediness cute and attractive, especially when he's supposed to take advantage of you.

"Yes, wanna cum with you, please, Jimin..." You whine, but you know he'll do what you're asking him for.

"Of course, baby," he agrees, even though he had no intention in refusing you. "Of course..." He says again in a whisper, sneaking his hand between your bodies, reaching your engorged and pulsating clit.

You gasp when his rough digit finds your sensitive bud of nerves, immediately moving it from side to side. He regains his pace rapidly, playing with your puffy clit while he fucks his cock into you to get himself off as well. You moan softly, his favourite sound at this point, and tightens your thighs around his waist.

Since you're very aroused, your orgasm is really near and it doesn't take much that you already feel it coming at full speed. You clench around him and buck your hips upwards, everything becoming messier and louder.

The sound of his balls slapping against your ass accompanies your whines and his grunts, forgetting the sole purpose of your intercourse; playing for the camera. But it's not much of a matter anymore when all you can think about is his girth drilling into your hole like you're nothing but a sexual object for him to use.

Jimin doesn't think about it either, fucking you in the forest like it's a recurrent occasion. Playing with the illusion of taking something he's not allowed to, doing an act completely selfish, yet you're letting him to, so how wrong is it?

"Close... I'm close," you warn Jimin, squirming under him because the stimulation is too strong, you can't stay in place. You pull on your wrists, frustrated you can't hold onto him.

He feels his balls tightening and he's close too. "Me too, baby, fu-uck," he responds, toying with your clitoris, moving his finger as fast as he can so you can have your orgasms at the same time. "Ready to cum for me? Hm?"

You hum in affirmation, nodding your head along. He nuzzles your neck again, kissing your flesh lovingly as you hear his moans against your ear. The last strand holding you back finally breaks and you cum, shaking like a leaf under him. You cry out his name, helplessly trying to hold onto something, only finding the grass to grip on.

It's then that Jimin quickly follows you, thighs trembling as he ejaculates deep into your cunt. His cock twitches a couple of times, painting your walls white in his seeds. "Fuck, baby," he groans, his hot breath hitting the side of your face.

Little droplets fall from his tip when he pulls out and he strokes himself briefly to milk his cock dry. You feel his hot cum dripping down from your pussy as you still clench repeatedly from your previous orgasm, pulse beating really fast.

Jimin watches his cum falling out of you and he picks it up by sliding his mushroom head through your folds, collecting the white substance on it. He pushes his head back in slightly, making you whimper in overstimulation.

He straddles your body and settles over your chest, his cock hovering over your face. You open your mouth and lick the remains off his pretty penis, slowly softening in his hand. He pats your hair appreciatively, smiling as you're doing a good job at cleaning the mess he made.

"Good girl... Such a good, pretty girl," he praises and you bat your eyelashes at him innocently. He glances toward the truck where his phone is still recording then back at you. "What about we head home now, hm? You deserve to relax, you must be really tired."

He gets off of you, zipping himself back up before untying your hands and helping you stand up on your wobbly legs. He kisses you on the lips and replaces your hair in place, even though it stays a mess.

"Yes, good idea."

✧˖*°࿐

Jimin has been your boyfriend for three months now and you sometimes still can't believe it. You've never been in a serious relationship before and you hope this one will last very long because you love him a lot.

He's really kind with you, always so understanding and just the perfect boyfriend you could've ever had. You're not afraid to be yourself with him and it's something you didn't allow yourself to be before him.

But since you're together, you really think this is a new you. A girl more confident in herself as well as happier and healthier. A relationship can do so much good to someone and you think this is what it's doing to you; a lot of good. And it's refreshing to be able to love a person so openly and they love you in return.

You've had sex a few times already, and right now it's about to happen again. You're really bothered by something, though and you can't get it out of your head. You want to share it with Jimin, but you're afraid of how he may react.

You trust him, so you decide to tell him.

"Minnie, wait..." You softly interrupt him, pushing on his shoulders. He stops his kisses and looks at you, wondering if he did something wrong. Of course, he didn't, as always.

You sit up on your bed so he pushes himself off of you, sitting in front of you. "Is everything alright, baby? Did I hurt you?" He asks and you laugh because he could have never hurt you, he's always so soft and gentle as if you're a vase he's scared to break.

"No, no, everything's fine, I just..." You look down at your lap, playing with your fingers nervously. "I just want to tell you- well, ask you something," you announce, not hesitating more if you really want to tell him what you have had on your mind for a pretty long time.

He pulls you by your legs and you gasp, not expecting him to bring you closer. He passes your legs over his lap, making you sit both side by side on the bed. You smile shyly, still avoiding his intense gaze.

"Tell me, I want to hear everything you have to say," he encourages you and it makes you feel better about yourself. Jimin won't judge you, he couldn't anyway if he wanted to. In his eyes, you can do nothing wrong.

"Okay, well, it's about... sex," you confess and hearing the word from your mouth makes him smile. He never looks away from you, seeing your eyebrows frown as you're thinking about your next words.

"Yeah? Anything that might interest me?" He says teasingly, placing an arm around your waist, gently caressing your body.

"It interests me, but you, I don't know. That's why I want to ask you," you explain and finally glance up at him, locking eyes with him.

"I see," he hums. "Then tell me, sweetheart. I'm sure I'll be into it." He winks at you and you roll your eyes, even though you crack a smile.

"So, umm, I really like it when you... dominate me," you say quietly, a little ashamed, but still confident enough to tell him everything. You don't express your sexual desires often, so it feels uncomfortable, but you trust Jimin with your whole heart. "You already know it, but it's just that I'd like you to control me... more."

A small crease appears between Jimin's eyebrows. "More? You want me to be rough?" He strokes your arm, showing you that you really can tell him everything. He's here to listen to you.

You shake your head, looking to the side again. "No, even though I wouldn't mind, but I like it when you're gentle," you answer. "What I mean is... I want you to... to rape me," you mumble the three last words, feeling your face heat up in embarrassment.

He raises up his eyebrows at your confession, totally surprised, but not at all repulsed or disgusted. He never thought about it before, never thought it could be your thing.

"It wouldn't be really that since it's what I want! But... I just like the idea of it," you quickly explain, seeing how taken back he looks by what you fantasize about. "I know it sounds... weird. I'll understand if it's not-"

He cuts you off, immediately reassuring you. "No, no, baby... Don't say that." He strokes your hair delicately, not wanting you to talk bad about yourself. "If you want it, I want it," he says and your eyes widen, sparkling.

"Really? Because you don't have to, you know," you worry again, but Jimin doesn't want to hear it.

"Shh, I'll do anything my pretty baby wants," he promises and your stomach flutters.

He removes your legs from his lap and gets on top of you, resuming what you've stopped earlier. He kisses you and slowly brings his plushy lips lower on your face, pecking your jaw then the side of your neck. You're rapidly overwhelmed by his touch, finding it hard to breathe and to even think.

"Want me to stretch this cunt out, baby?" He questions between kisses, his hands already lowering your jeans over your thighs and bringing your panties with them. "Ruin it so you're completely useless to anyone else beside me..." He sings against your ear and you completely love it.

You pass your arms around his shoulders, smelling his soft odour that always reassures you. He doesn't bother to prepare you, which makes your stomach twist, a new sentiment taking over you. He reaches his belt, unzipping and unbuttoning his pants to free his cock out.

"Gonna take good care of you, sweetheart." His dick slaps against his stomach when it springs out of his boxers and you whine, breath caught in your throat. "Need me to rape you so you know you're mine," he says and you shudder at his vulgar words.

How can he be so sweet and so willing to pretend to be taking advantage of you, you don't know, but that's exactly what you wanted.

You really, really love Jimin.

✧˖*°࿐

He hears soft and quiet moans coming out of the bedroom, which caught his attention. He's satisfied to notice the door half open, a small crack letting him see what's happening inside. Camera in hand, Jimin walks up to the bedroom's door and brings the recording device up to his face.

He pushes the door slightly enough so the camera can capture the inside of the room. He smirks when he discovers you humping your teddy bear, moving your hips frantically against the plushie. You rub your pussy on it, panties drenched in your wetness.

You don't realize that Jimin is entering the bedroom, looking at you on the camera's screen. You gasp in surprise when you see him in front of you, the lens pointing at you. You blink up and bite down on your lip, continuing to hump the poor teddy bear.

Since you're settled down close to the edge of the bed, Jimin takes a hold of your face, angling it correctly so it faces the camcorder. "What are you doing, princess?" He asks, keeping your head still and watching you rut your hips against the plushie between your thighs.

"Aah, daddy, I'm- I'm..." You let out a breathy moan, too lost in your ecstasy to give him a proper response. "Can't stop," you say as he passes his thumb over your bottom lip and you gently close your mouth around it.

Another moan makes you part your lips, opening your mouth so your little noises can escape it, to Jimin's pleasure. It makes you look dumb, his thumb pressing down on your tongue, drool coating it and falling from the corner of your mouth.

"Can't stop rubbing your little cunnie on teddy?" You shake your head from side to side, eyes locked with his, but he soon lingers his gaze down on your form, watching closely the way you hump the stuffed toy. "Mmh, what a dirty girl you are, baby... Pleasuring yourself in front of daddy."

He takes his digit out of your mouth and traces your cheek with it, spreading your own spit on your face. You whine louder as you rock your hips faster, breath heavy and heart beating excitedly inside your rib cage.

"It feels good, doesn't it? Your panties are all soaked," he growls, placing his palm over your throat. He senses you gulping before answering, parting your lips to talk, but an obscene moan is heard instead. "What's gotten you so wet, baby?" Jimin questions, grinning as you look totally braindead.

"Was thinking about daddy," you babble out, clenching your thighs around the teddy bear.

You seem even more stupid through the camera and Jimin licks his lips as he looks at the screen, veins apparent on his arm that is choking you. His cock twitches in his pants, feeling a little bit too restrained in them.

"Yeah? My baby girl was thinking about me? What were those thoughts about..." He asks while he zooms in on your face, then lowers down to your crotch. You don't wear anything except for your flimsy pair of underwear, completely soiled in your juices.

He records how your pussy rubs against the face of the stuffed bear, your small hands holding the plushie in place between your thighs.

"Just- just daddy's... pretty cock and body," you giggle, your mind going wild as you remember the scenery you were imagining before he entered. Jimin's eyes snap up to you when you say those filthy words, pupils dilated and gaze darkening. "Cum all over my face... Fucking me over and over again," you smile, trying to look innocent, but it doesn't work at all.

"You dirty, dirty girl..." He tells you and gives you a carnivorous smile, letting you know that he isn't going to treat you as an innocent little girl like you pretend to be. "Is that what you want? You want your step daddy to fuck your little hole? Your ass, maybe?" He talks to you behind the camera, only emphasizing how dominant he is and how submissive you are. "You're so fucking gross."

You pout at that, slowing the pace of your hips. "No, no, I'm not!" You whine, fake crying. Jimin focuses the camera on you again, filming you completely ravaged in your own lust. "I can't help it, I love daddy too much... He makes me feel real...ly good," you tremble and have more difficulty speaking, the tingles in your tummy getting stronger.

He can never resist you when you express your feelings like that. So cute and stupid, he's the only one who can take care of you. The only one who will never abuse you, never, unless you ask for it.

"Awh, baby," he coos, letting go of your neck to pat your hair delicately. "I love you, too." He strokes your cheek, making you purr and bat your eyelashes at him. "Very, very much..." He emphasizes, fire erupting in your belly. "Wanna show to daddy how much you love him?"

At that, your eyes widen and you excitedly nod your head. Then, reluctantly, Jimin grips the teddy bear and removes it from between your legs. He throws it to the side and reaches for his fly. He undoes the button and tucks his zipper down swiftly, you looking at his crotch intently.

He angles the camcorder down and you interrupt him in his actions, avidly lowering his pants as well as his boxers down his thighs. His cock almost slaps you in the face when it bounces up and you can't hold in your little giggles. You look at it as if it's one of the wonders of the world, the greatest prize you've ever obtained.

Jimin takes his dick in his hand, giving it one stroke before hitting your lips with the tip. You let yourself be toyed with, enjoying it a lot, and you open your mouth to stick your tongue out. He uses the opportunity you offer him to slap his dick against your wet, pink muscle.

"Hmm, you shouldn't have teased daddy like that, princess," he states, thrusting in your mouth, but only putting the tip in, teasing you in return. "Make me wanna do nasty things to you... worse than anything you could ever imagine," he says in a low voice, trapping his bottom lip between his teeth.

You stay still, blinking up at Jimin who's totally dominating you right now. He controls you and the camera at the same time, turning you into a complete mess, into a stupid girl who can't think for herself with a cock in her mouth.

Your purse your lips and he taps the head against your lips. He tilts his head slightly to the side, as if he's analyzing you, watching you curiously as you lick his cock with adoration. You let out little moans, making you look more submissive and making Jimin more aroused.

"Open your mouth," he orders and you execute yourself immediately. He doesn't wait to enter your mouth, it expands to the size of his girth as he pushes his cock in. He takes a handful of your hair, gripping on it tighter as he thrusts gradually in.

Your eyes start to water since he takes his time to penetrate your mouth, going in painfully slow, grunting as he does so. You focus on your gag reflex, keeping your tongue flat underneath him. You hollow your cheeks and he finally reaches the bottom of your throat, tip hitting the back of it.

You look at him and he looks at you. You wait for him to start fucking your throat, but he pulls out at once, holding your head by your hair. You breathe out through your mouth, swallowing to soothe your sore throat. It stings, but you manage to regain a normal breath.

"You take my cock so well," he praises and his grip on your hair loosens, giving a break to your scalp. "You really do love me, huh?"

You nod right away, wiping the drool that fell from your mouth off your chin with your hand. Jimin smiles at that, giving you small taps on your cheek, indicating that you'll change positions.

To your surprise, he hands you the camera. "There." You take it from him, holding it with your two hands. "Lay down and make some space for me, m'kay, baby? Daddy will give you what you want," he commands and you move back, laying your back against the mattress like he told you to.

You keep the camcorder up with your shaky hands, trying to adjust it so the image is clear. You get distracted by Jimin who crawls to you, settling himself between your legs. He flashes you a smile before undressing you from your soiled panties, throwing them on the bedroom's floor. You film him as best as you can with trembling hands and arms.

You gasp when his head finds a spot just over your pussy, feeling his hot breath on your private parts. "Dad-daddy," you breathe out shakily, having him so close to your cunt arouses you so much. "Are you going to... to eat my ... cunnie?" You question shyly, but you're very excited. You already feel yourself clenching around nothing.

He passes his arms around your thighs, legs over his shoulders. "Is that what you want, baby girl? Want me to suck on your little clit?" He asks, knowing pertinently that's what you're waiting for.

"Yes, please," you mewl, arching your back when you feel his mouth on you. You try to record him, but it's really difficult with Jimin's tongue on your cunt. You wonder how he does it because you can't stop squirming around. "Aaah, Jimin..." You moan his name almost instantly, the tingles he sends through your body are just so good.

His lips are wrapped around your bud of nerves and he sucks it fervently, eliciting sweet moans and whines from you. You keep the camera on him, watching him lick and munch on your pussy through the screen, absolutely loving the view of Jimin's mouth on your bare pussy.

"Daddy, it feels so good, I won't- I..." Your next words are never said as he plunges two fingers in your hole, scissoring your insides. He keeps sucking your clit and it turns you delirious, unable to think straight.

Jimin stops sucking, but he still pumps his fingers into you, curling them so he can pat your sweet spot. "Baby, stop moving so much, the recording's going to be impossible to watch after," he softly warns you, pulling your arms back up a little so it can capture him eating you out. "I know you like daddy's mouth on your cunnie, but you have to focus."

"Sorry, Minnie," you cry out because it's so hard to concentrate on something other than Jimin. "But I'm really close," you say, feeling the fire at the pit of your stomach growing.

"I don't want to hear any excuses," he scolds, circling your clit with his thumb while he's talking to you. "Be a good girl for me, okay, princess?" He stares at you and raises up his eyebrows to emphasize his words. You know better than to disobey him anyway.

You nod and a little pout appears on your lips, trying to control yourself. "Yes, daddy," you accept and he's back at licking your sensitive bud until you're just a brainless girl under him.

You moan as he fingers your pussy, your wetness dripping down to your ass. His fingers are so coated in your arousal that he can thrust them in without any restrain, sliding in smoothly while he presses his tongue down on your clit, moving it from side to side rapidly.

Jimin always knows what to do and his techniques are the best, making you cum quicker than when you masturbate. You do your best to film him, framing his blond head of hair buried between your plushy thighs. You can't help but moan at the sight, gripping his hair between your fist.

Your other hand shakily records the action and you can hear your sweet moans coming from behind the camera. "Minnie, I'm cumming!" You announce out loud, literally suffocating him between your thighs by tightening them around his head.

Your orgasm passes through you intensively, making you buck your hips in his face. He keeps his tongue on you, flicking it over your clitoris to help you go through your high. You pull on strands of hair, making him groan and you feel the vibration of his voice on your cunt.

He spreads your legs apart so he can escape them, even though he could've stayed between them all day. "Good girl, baby, such a good girl," he purrs, stroking your thighs to help you calm down a little bit.

You have no energy left, but you know that he's not finished with you. He kneels and you can see just how hard his cock is, it looks really painful.

You forget the camera and just let it fall on the bed, hypnotized by Jimin. "Daddy," you call him hastily, extending your arms toward him to reach him. You embrace him and he circles your little body with his strong arms, rubbing your face on his chest.

"Princess, it's okay, everything's fine," he comforts you, kissing your hair lovingly. He pulls you off of him and delicately lays you back down on the bed. "I'm here, I'm not going away." He kisses your cheek next before reaching for the camera again.

He sets it on the nightstand by the bed, turning it around so it captures the both of you. He removes his shirt by tugging on the collar, your heart beating faster at the sight of his beautiful chest.

"Can you turn around for me, baby girl?" You whine, disappointed that you won't be able to look at him longer. You turn round nonetheless, stomach against the mattress. "Good girl," he approves of your obedience.

You feel his hand caressing your back, going up to your shoulders then down to your ass. He gropes one cheek, palming it and kneading it in his veiny hand. You mewl, looking behind your shoulder to watch him play with you.

"Do you want more, hm?" He wonders as he explores your naked skin, touching it and groping your flesh in a tight grip. "Do I need to give you more so you stop thinking about daddy in such a filthy way?"

You moan when he spanks your ass, just the right intensity to feel your skin burn deliciously. You want to say that it'd take way more than that and no matter how hard he fucks you, you'll never stop thinking about him. You'd say the truth, but you understand that in these situations, nothing resembles reality.

"Yes, daddy, punish me for it..." You beg him, twisting the bedsheets between your fists. You don't have to ask him twice.

He groans and leans over you, his lips right beside your ear. "You fucking slut," he whispers, making you shudder intensively. "You don't even realize what you're asking for." He's being mean, but it only adds on to the pleasure. He knows what he's doing.

Jimin slowly penetrates you, settling himself in the comfort of your warm pussy. You whine out loud, enduring a painful but sweet stretch of your cunt by his fat cock. His hands are beside your shoulders, finally bottoming out until his hips are flushed against your ass. He lets out a moan, a long and aching one.

"Fuck, your tight little pussy feels so good, baby," he moans in your ear, shivers running on your skin as his cock fills you up entirely. "So perfect for daddy, princess... You were made for me," he affirms, completely honest. He believes it firmly and the way your cunt sucks him in just proves it.

"Was made for you..." You mumble out, repeating his words, agreeing with him because he's always right. He starts hard and has clearly no intention to go slower anytime soon.

You're getting fucked mercilessly right away and there's no way you can persuade him to go easy on you. That's not what you want anyway. You want him to destroy you, use you like you're worth nothing more than a sex toy.

Destroying is a strong word, but you like to think about it that way. If Jimin decides to ruin you, he'd be able to repair you after because deep down, you know he loves you and you love him. There's nothing love can't fix and just for that reason, you'd let him break you over and over again until you have nothing left but him.

He thrusts into you with a regular and intense pace, reaching deep each time his pelvis meets your butt. His own pleasure is intoxicating, making his hips stutter as his self-control is becoming less and less reliable.

He grips your throat from below, levelling your head up from the bed and forcing you to arch your back. "How does it feel, baby?" He murmurs beside your ear, his voice low and raspy, making you roll your eyes back into your skull. "Mmh? How does it feel to have your pretty cunt split in half by daddy?" He growls, sinking his nails into the skin of your neck.

Tears fall down from your eyes at how intense everything feels, Jimin taking your breath away just by pounding his dick into your pussy as if he has never hated someone more than you. It's ironic how you desire him to do that to you while asking him to love you as much as you love him. But he does and that's why you'll never find someone else like him because nobody could do the things he does for you.

"Amazing, daddy, it feels- it... it feels-" you gasp when you recognize the familiar tingle in your belly, the tingle that lets you know you're very close to cum around Jimin's dick. "So, so good..." You continue, breathless.

"Yeah, you like that? Fuck," he curses under his breath. "I like it too, princess," he admits, leaving a sweet and wet kiss on your cheek, collecting a tear of yours on his lips by the same occasion.

Your sweet spot is being martyrized by his cock, pussy pulsating around his length and you start shaking under him. "Gonna cum, Minnie," you quickly say and it makes him groan against your ear even louder.

He lets go of your throat, but only to shove you against the mattress. He keeps a hand on your head so you can't move it, obligated to face the camera that you forgot about. "Then do it, baby," he tells you almost too sweetly, still driving his dick into you. "Show me again how much you love me."

It's as if his words have an immediate response on you because soon after you cream his cock with your cum, clenching around him repeatedly until his movements are altered by it.

"Fuck, yes, baby, just like that..." He moans and his cock twitches inside of you, indicating that he'll cum, too. At this point, you firmly believe that you're both connected because you don't have to ask anymore, he'll orgasm at the same time as you.

With a last groan, he shoots his cum so deep into you you think for a moment that you'll become pregnant with his child even if you're on a contraceptive. You stay under him totally unable to move, too tired to even speak, only whines coming out of you as he empties himself inside your messy cunt.

"Shit," he breathes out, gasping for air. Strands of blond hair are sticking to his forehead and he licks his lips, moisturizing them.

He reaches for the camcorder and closes the screen, stopping the recording.

✧˖*°࿐

You have no idea how it ended up like this, but it did and it hurts. It hurts badly. Something happened, but it was so fast and unpredictable, nobody knew how to react. The inevitable has happened and you can't go back into the past.

It's one of those situations where you constantly ask yourself why did you do that, why didn't you do this instead of that. Just why. Why you and not someone else.

There's nothing more cruel and painful than to ruminate about the past. Nothing more hurtful than regrets because you can do nothing about them.

Why did you both hurt each other? The simple thought of being away from you makes him suffer, so why? It's self-hatred at this point, he thinks, but why would he hurt himself if it means hurting you, too. So many questions and yet, nobody dares to talk to the other.

Who will break first? Who will be the last to give up?

Both? Neither? You or him?

How bad can it be to stay away from the love of your life, from the only person that will ever satisfy you, to ever worship you. It can be really bad, in fact, it can even turn into a nightmare. Or it can be totally good, it depends on how you see it.

A wild fire will burn an entire forest, but it gives birth to a new fertile land after.

What's wrong and right, then? You don't know and it must be why this relationship is so important to you. There's no wrong and right. There's a middle and you'll always stand between because that's how it works the best.

You walk along the hallway, eyeing his apartment door as you approach it slowly with each step you take. The numbers on his door grow and grow until you finally face it. You think about it, probably the first time you reflect before doing anything that concerns Jimin.

It never felt so improper to knock on his door. What will you say? What if he doesn't answer or closes the door on you? Would he refuse to talk to you? Maybe, maybe not. You don't know.

You take a deep breath and knock, now feeling much more anxious than when you entered his apartment building. Nothing happens until you hear shuffling behind the door and feet stepping on the floor, the doorknob turning hastily.

Your heart beats faster and you find yourself shaking, gulping uncomfortably. You look in front of you, preparing yourself to see him, lay your eyes on him after what felt like weeks — months, even.

It felt like hell, honestly. Maybe that's why you don't know how much time passed by because there's no time in hell, there's only suffering.

The door opens and he's there, standing before you. Your heart skips a beat when you notice how awful he looks and you feel the pain, the atrocious pain he went through. You thought you were the first one to break, but clearly, you weren't.

His eyes are all red and it looks like he's been crying for days, probably even more. He has huge black circles under his eyes and they are really puffy. His last tears must have hurt badly when they fell down, you tell yourself.

His nose is red, as well as his cheeks. His lips are sealed in a straight line, even when he sees you. No emotions pass through his eyes, but his appearance contradicts this fact because it's evident he's been overwhelmed with all kinds of feelings these past few days. He's surely tired, he has cried enough and his eyes can't produce any water anymore.

"Hi," you manage to breathe out, swallowing when he doesn't budge an inch. "Can I... Can I enter?" You stutter out and you wait anxiously for his answer, but none comes except him stepping aside to let you in.

You let out a quiet 'thank you' and enter his apartment. He closes the door behind you, and even though the place is extremely familiar to you, having been here numerous times, you stand uselessly in the entry.

He doesn't move much as well, hiding his hands in the pockets of his black sweatpants. He looks at you and you look back at him, but you're the only one who desperately needs him to say something, anything. After all, you're the one who came to him, so you're the one who has to speak first, but it's so difficult.

"Are you... okay?" You ask, trying to make small talk, to revive the flame between you two that used to be so bright. You quickly realize that your question is stupid and you're only worsening the already awkward situation.

You're still really worried about him. You hope he didn't start any unhealthy habits, like you did. He probably stopped eating knowing him, whereas you ate day and night until the simple thought of food made you puke.

He rolls his eyes, certain that you know the answer. It's obvious just by looking at him. "What do you think? Do I look okay to you?" He replies sarcastically, shaking his head and chuckling without an ounce of laughter behind his voice.

You step forward, seeking some intimacy with him, but you don't move further. "No, no... That's why I asked," you justify yourself, fidgeting on your fingers because you don't know what to do with your hands. "I've never wanted the... the fight to end like that," you confess, looking away from him, but lifting your gaze up again when you hear him exhale.

His eyes are glossy and the corners of his lips tug downward. He glances to the side, avoiding your eyes, trying to hide the fact that he's about to cry, again. He blinks and that's when a tear rolls down his face, hanging on his jaw.

"Me neither." He looks back at you and your heart breaks into a thousand pieces. "We have to hurt each other, don't we?" He questions, but you don't really understand what he means by that. "To know if the other really loves us," he says, voice not as strong as usual.

You frown. Do you have to hurt each other for that? It's not like you're afraid to say those three words and he never hesitates to say them back. Maybe it's to prove it because what do they mean if you're never showing a true proof of your love.

"But we do love each other, I don't understand..." You whisper, taking another step forward.

"There's nothing to understand," he explains. "It's what happens when you love too much... too obsessively." His words confuse you because they're heavy, strong of meaning and he can't say that without giving further explanation. "You shred apart the last thing you have, the most precious you've ever possessed."

You can't stand there any longer, and you close the distance that is separating you from each other. He looks down at you while you look up at him, heart heavy with your emotions and his as well. You're the most precious thing he has and because his love surpasses everything he has ever felt in his life, he can't control it. He can't control his love from growing into something obsessive and sickly.

"I love you, Jimin," you affirm strongly, not allowing him to ever doubt it. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have reacted like that. There's nothing else in the world that I feel more guilty about, I don't want you to hurt yourself."

Kind and sweet, that's what you are and he tries to be like that as well, especially to you. It's how you perceive him, but your short break up made him realize things. He can't be without you anymore, he has to have you, to possess you. He'd simply die if he doesn't have you.

He eyes you down, gaze hurtful and sad, as well as something else, something you've never seen in him before. "It doesn't matter," he says, grabbing your bicep. He pulls you in closer, his face hovering just above yours. "Do you love me?"

You frown again, confused that he's asking you this question after you've proudly said you do. "Of course I do, I love-" But that's not what he wants to hear. He has to be clearer.

He cuts you off, shaking his head. "No. Do you love me the way I do?" He rectifies, looking intensely at you, hoping his love isn't wrong or sick. Hoping you feel the same so he knows he's not crazy.

"What... what do you mean?" You breathe out shakily, keeping eye-contact with him, slightly becoming afraid of him.

"I want you to be mine," he whispers, his icy breath hitting your cheek, making you shiver. "Not because we're a couple, but because I sincerely believe that you were made for me, only me," he admits, finally suppressing this heavy weight his heart was carrying since the day he met you.

You're not really surprised to hear that from him. It's something he says a lot during sex, how your body fits so well with his and how he's the only person capable of satisfying you. You've never thought it was more than just a talk, more than things he says to turn you on.

You're his and that's a fact, but how deep does he mean it? It's not like you've never imagined your future with him, being his girlfriend forever. But again, at what point does he want to possess you? Romantically, intimately... or physically?

"We're meant to be together and I know you believe it, too," he tries to convince you and there's no need to because you don't see yourself with somebody who isn't him. "I'd do anything to have you, even if it means going against you," he confesses and his lips are so close to yours.

It distracts you from the true meaning of his last words, and maybe it's better like this. You don't respond to his question either and you don't know if you could answer it anyway.

But before his lips can touch yours, he turns you around and pins you against the wall. You let out a squeak, feeling like you were lured in a trap. You're stuck between your boyfriend and the wall adjacent to the front door.

"Jimin," you mutter, your heart starting to beat faster. "What are you doing?" Your body is telling you that there is a danger, activating your stress hormones, making you shake, sweat and cry.

He sticks his chest to your back with a lot of insistence, leaving no room for you to move or to breathe. "Claiming what's mine," he answers curtly, pulling your pants and panties down your thighs very gently.

You're not wet and prepared yet and it makes you stress even more, but you've done that with him before. The simple thought of it makes your clit throb, so you should be good.

It doesn't take him long to take his penis out, stroking it behind you so it grows fully hard. You feel him touching himself against your ass and you look behind your shoulder, watching him run his palm up and down his cock.

He grips your hip with the other hand and kisses the side of your face, being lovely, as always. "Baby, are you going to please me?" He murmurs, feeling his plump lips brushing against your skin.

Your eyes water, but none of your tears will equal the amount of pain he felt during your break up. You feel sorry, and if he wants you, he will have you. "Yes, Jimin, I will..."

"Okay, then take a deep breath, sweetheart," he advises and that's when you feel the head of his cock pushing in, forcing an entrance for him.

You gasp loudly, tears appearing in the corners of your eyes. You form fists with your hands, a wave of pain going through your body. You're not used to suffering during such an intimate moment with Jimin, but you can't dislike it at the same time.

"M-Minnie," your voice breaks down in a sob, letting your sweet boyfriend penetrate you solely because he wants to. When he's half-way in, he lets go of his cock to pass his arms around your waist, hugging from behind and kissing the burning skin of your face, damped by your tears.

"Shhh, you're being such a good girl right now," he coos, still pushing in and stretching out your cunt to the size of his girth. It burns, but you also clench around him, aroused by the way he's manhandling you. "My pretty baby..." He sings in your ear and you feel him smile, leaving soft and feathery kisses all over your skin that is exposed to him.

He whimpers when he's all in the way in your pussy, finally being where he belongs. You feel him exhale, his breath fanning across your face. He swallows hard before he picks up a comfortable pace, fucking his dick into you while keeping your back flushed against his chest.

"I want you with me forever, baby," he says in a low tone, so close to you that you feel every breath he takes. "Forever..." He repeats, so you don't forget, so you know he's really sincere.

You whine, the pleasure starting to mix in with the stinging pain. His arms circles you, keeps you safe and warm. Mentally, you feel great, maybe a little bit too much and that's why the tears keep flowing even though he's not hurting you anymore.

"I will, Minnie," you whisper back, making him groan. He likes hearing it from you, likes knowing you love him unconditionally, that you'd never question his feelings for you.

Why question when you're sure he'd kiss your fever away, dance with you and make you fall in love over and over again. There's no point in leaving when he's the only safe place you have, the only lover you'll ever have and the only person who would do anything for you. Leaving is not an option, not even conceivable when you know you'll never find someone better than him.

"You will? Oh, baby," he mewls, thrusting in your pussy slowly, at a rhythm that is almost agonizing, making you lose your mind. "I love you," he says painfully, holding you tighter. "Love you so much, you have no idea..." He mutters the last four words, rolling his hips against your ass, his cock sliding in just so perfectly.

You don't respond, but it doesn't bother Jimin. You don't have enough breath to answer anyway and you don't have all of your mind right now. He finds your clit and quickly circles it with his finger. You understand he's close and that he wants you to cum around him at the same time as him.

He buries his face into your hair, growling as his balls tighten the more he pounds into your pussy. "Shit," he breathes out, trying to control himself and to not cum too early, but he missed your cunt too much. "I'm gonna fill you up with my cum and you gonna take it like a good girl, okay, baby?" He instructs and you nod immediately, swallowing in a whine.

You moan loudly when your orgasm shoots through you, pussy contracting around Jimin's cock. It makes him moan too, deep and raspy, rocking his hips against your butt to reach his high as well. The overstimulation doesn't feel great, but you stay quiet, only whining from his hard thrusts.

You struggle to stand still on your legs, but he holds you to him with his strong arms and you place your hands over his that are resting on your belly. Your face is squished against the wall as Jimin fucks you restlessly.

"Oh, fuck, I'm cumming," he announces hastily, and he does. A lot. You feel him filling you up with his seeds while he groans against your ear, making you roll your eyes into your head.

As he empties himself into your cunt, he keeps his pace, fucking his own cum into you. It gets messy really fast, dripping down your inner thighs that are close to each other since your pants are still hanging on over your thighs.

He has difficulty moving in you, so he pulls out, gripping his cock to stroke it angrily. He cums on your ass, white ropes falling on your bottom. You whimper, watching him over your shoulder milking himself dry above your butt. Small white beads come out of his tip, landing on you, and he's finally done, trying to catch his breath.

He raises his gaze up to you and his eyes are still red and puffy, like yours, eyelashes wet from your previous tears. He turns you around, making you face him, and he crashes his mouth on yours. Your tongues tangle together, he bites your lip, assaulting your flesh with his teeth. It's short, but feverish, as intense as the beating of your heart.

He ends the kiss, laying his forehead on yours. He looks in your eye, this simple exchange meaning everything, sealing both of your souls together. You are one once and for all.

✧˖*°࿐

.

.

.

Do not ask for a part 2.

#bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts imagines #bts x reader #bts scenarios #bts drabble #jimin drabble #jimin smut #jimin x reader #jimin fanfic #jimin fanfiction #jimin imagines #jimin scenarios #jimin angst

[stubz]

grandma said

"I wonder what's taking Max so long?" mumbled the human, waiting with several younglings and children for the other human to come so that they can leave the centre.

"Kim can we go now?"

"Not until Max and Ezshi come."

"But Ezshi takes light years to get ready~" whined the child.

"I know but--"

A wail like no other echoed throughout the halls. The screams bounced off the walls into the human's body, from their heart to their skull they felt the vibrations of the child.

"Cover your ears and stay here!" they said before sprinting inside the classroom.

The wailing grew the closer they got to the source which was little Ezshi who was being comforted by the other human.

"What happened?!" even at Kim's loudest her yells were easily drowned out the reptilian's wails and cries.

Max pointed at the youngling and she looked down to see their tail swollen and slightly discolored. He then drew her attention to the door leading outside of the centre.

Ah shit it had to be the tail. As younglings Caimunes had incredibly sensitive tails as they were still developing the necessary healing abilities to allow them to regrow them.

'Anyting I can do?' she texted.

'Just take the others to the garden without us. Ezshi' cries r probably hurting some of their ears. Text management to send over a sub in my place and close the door to muffle the noise.'

'K, gud luck' and with that she left leading the younglings far away from the pained wails.

.

..

...

What the hell do I do!? They don't want an ice pack or a cold cloth or me to even breath on it and it'll be at least another 15 minutes till Eza get's here...

The poor human had spent the last 15 minutes trying to comfort and help the youngling to no avail. He tried applying first aid but Ezshi wailed even louder at the thought of anything touching their tail. The human then tried soothing them with words and rubbing circles on their back but that had only worked for mere seconds at a time.

So far the only thing he managed to do was give them a pillow to sit on and reassure them that their Bubba was coming as fast as they can.

A Caimunes tail is the most sensitive body part, equivalent to a human's fingers or toes...think think think. This isn't that far from when I slammed my finger in the closet door so what was done to help me?

He cried; just like Ezshi. He didn't want anyone to touch it; just like Ezshi. He calmed down but that was because he trusted his parents when they put his hand under cold water.

There has to be something...

"Oh." and Ezshi whimpered for the human had gotten up and went to the small kitchen they had.

*wHinNE*

"Don't worry I'm coming back buddy. I just remembered something that could help. Something my Grandma once said." they opened the top cupboard and came back with a small bag.

"Now don't tell anyone about this because this is for next week," he took out a small wrapped upped square and began to open it, "but my Grandma said that it's harder to be sad when eating something sweet so we're going to give it a try." he placed the small smooth square into the youngling's claw.

They sniffed it then plopped it into their mouth. It was strange to them. It was hard but then chewy and sticky. Sweet but tangy.

"It's called a Starburst. A candy from Earth."

The youngling started to cry once again but to the human's relief it was a much quieter cry.

"What does it taste like?"

"...*whimper*"

"Is it sweet?"

Nod*

"Kinda tangy?"

Shake*

A little sour?"

Shake*

"Just sweet?"

Nod*

"Huh, usually I find that flavor to be a little tangy. It's cherry by the way."

"...can I have another one?"

"Of course."

They sat like that until Eza came. Max fed Ezshi different flavors and asked them questions about the flavor until he had them try and guess which flavor they were eating. By then the cries were far and few between one another.

Later when the Caimunes had left the human was contacted by the med bay about a hearing test as 90% of those who hear a youngling Caimun wail go deaf. Max was ultimately fine and actually found the experience interesting as he had experienced a full inner/outer body vibration from the soundwaves coming from Ezshi

#today a kid got a door slammed on their finger and screamed for like half an hour until their parents came #they're okay its just the side effects of experiencing a painful thing with a very small pain tolerance #they calmed down after I gave em some candy after remembering the sweet and sad thing my grandma or someone's grandma told me #humans are space oddities #humans are space orcs #the adventures of kim and max running a space child care centre

[agoodomenssideblogiguess]

What if Aziraphale wasn't on earth between 1941 and 1967?

What if, the same way Crowley was brought back to Hell in 1827 Aziraphale was recalled to Heaven in 1941?

Hear me out: Aziraphale has been making slow but steady progress within his character arc right? In 1941 at the end of the night, sharing drinks with Crowley in the bookshop, Aziraphale was willing to accept that things are not always black and white and sometimes there is room for shades of grey (albeit very light grey). Compare this to his thinking concerning Elspeth. Aziraphale kept flip flopping back and forth over whether Elspeth's actions were good or bad. He didn't seem to consider her actions were ethically complicated. In his mind they could either be good or bad depending on whatever information came to light in the moment.

It also seems that after the church, the magic trick, and the shades of grey discussion, Crowley and Aziraphale are back on good terms with one another. At the very least, talking and willing to spend time together again. Other than the mention of how easily accessible the holy water is in the church, Crowley doesn't seem to mention or allude to his request again. However, in 1967, it feels like their interactions are strained again. Aside from the awkwardness and tension in their conversation, it's also strange that Crowley is surprised to see Aziraphale in the Bentley (despite being PARKED IN FRONT OF THE BOOKSHOP) and that Aziraphale is only aware of what Crowley is up to through second-hand means “I work in Soho, I hear things." (You don't need to 'hear things' when Crowley is conducting those things IN FRONT OF THE BOOKSHOP)

So what happened? My theory: Aziraphale has been serving out a punishment in Heaven since 1941.

Fandom consensus seems to be that there is a 1941 pt. 3 coming next season and many are hoping for a kiss or something undeniably romantic (I am too ngl). But what if it's actually a scene where Aziraphale gets dragged back up to heaven?

Shax said that 80-90 years ago was the first time that she heard about Crowley and Aziraphale being an item. We can assume that this 80-90 years ago was during Furfur’s failed evidence presentation to Dagon and F(r)iends.

A lot of demons were hanging around in that scene. It wouldn’t surprise me if one of them (or Shax herself) got in touch with an angel in Heaven and let them know about the rumor downstairs of Crowley working with an angel on Earth.

Obviously, Heaven can’t allow that, and who else could it be other than Aziraphale? He’s the only angel down there, so they recall him. Without evidence though, and given that (1) it's a demon's word against an angel's; (2) less than a century and a half ago, Gabriel awarded Aziraphale a medal for his work on earth (bookstore opening cut scene); and (3) as far as we know, Aziraphale hasn’t had any major offenses other than frivolous use of miracles, I don’t think Heaven can really do much. That doesn’t mean they don’t do anything, I just don’t think they do anything like use hellfire on him or make him fall.

Despite the lack of evidence, Heaven still has to make an example out of Aziraphale for getting caught working with a demon. I think whatever punishment Heaven doles out, keeps Aziraphale up in Heaven for a long time.

(Small tangent: If it can be traced back to one event rather than a slow progression over millenia, this rumor is also probably what makes all the archangels be so cruel to Aziraphale (or at least finally gives them permission to act on what they’ve been wanting to do for ages). Maybe this is when they start looking into Aziraphale’s past endeavors and notice Crowley everywhere.)

It could be worse, if there had been evidence, it would have been worse. Still (Aziraphale might think), this is Heaven, 'the side of good', they wouldn't take it too far. He probably received a trial before his punishment began. And yeah the trial is more for show than anything else, but it's not like Hell would have bothered with any of that. Hell would probably delve right into whatever torture they'd decided for punishment. His time spent in Heaven, no matter how intense the punishment, would have been a breeze to tolerate compared to what Hell would do to Crowley. Speaking of which...

By the time Heaven lets Aziraphale back down to Earth, I think he would be a mess of mindless worry. He had just come to terms with his feelings for Crowley after all. Maybe this is why Aziraphale decides to give Crowley the holy water after all. He's had more than enough time in Heaven to realize that as much as he wants to protect Crowley and keep him safe, all that intent means nothing if he's stuck in Heaven because of his own carelessness. In Aziraphale's absence (or destruction), holy water could keep Crowley safe, at least from Hell, even if it is dangerous. Once Aziraphale is back on Earth, when he hears what Crowley was plotting, it probably further cements his decision to give it to him.

If Aziraphale got taken up to Heaven right after the magic show, he probably has no idea if his palming of the polaroid worked for sure. The bookshop is a safe place for Crowley to be away from Hell, but how long will that last? Is it still an embassy with Aziraphale up here in heaven? Is Crowley defenseless against the other demons down there? Did Hell come for Crowley after all even without evidence?

So how long is Aziraphale gone for? We already know that after Crowley got sent back to hell in 1827 and Aziraphale didn’t see him again for “a very long time.” The next meeting we, as an audience, see between them is the holy water request in 1862. So at worst, Crowley's been in Hell for ~30 years. Heaven probably would have taken Aziraphale back for a similar amount of time. And wow look at that, 26 years ago by between 1941 and 1967.

There’s enough ambiguity in the set and dialogue to allow for this length of absence as well. I already wrote a post about how ridiculous Aziraphale is for saying 'I work in Soho I hear things' in 1967 when the whole scene takes place outside the bookshop and how equally ridiculous Crowley is for seeming to think Aziraphale wouldn't notice him prancing around the block plotting to steal from a church. But maybe Crowley conducting his holy water heist business all over Aziraphale's corner of Soho is because as far as he knows Aziraphale isn't around anymore. In my post, I point out that the bookshop is blocked off by the "Striptease" and "Love Shop Cinema" signs but that you can tell it’s the bookshop because of its pillars.

I admitted that it was weird to cover up half the windows, but didn't really have any diegetic explanation for it. Maybe the explanation is that Aziraphale’s bookshop has been abandoned for years. In which case, I think Crowley might be hanging around Soho caring for it and the books, making sure it doesn't get vandalized, protecting it from snooping humans, etc. (tangent: this could also be why Aziraphale says that the bookshop is both of theirs. Maybe the "plenty of use" he said Crowley got out of it was while Aziraphale was away. Maybe Crowley used it as a pseudo base of operations.)

Aziraphale being gone would also explain why, suddenly, 105 years after his initial request, Crowley is plotting to steal holy water from a church. Aziraphale has been gone a long enough time that Crowley is starting to get antsy. Maybe he’s starting to think that Aziraphale is gone for good (not dead, he is an OPTIMIST DAMMIT). I think Crowley is spurred to start the holy water heist because he thinks Aziraphale isn’t going to be assigned to earth any more and whoever they're sending down next is going to be more of a smitey kind of angel. And if Aziraphale isn’t around anymore, then the demon-proof-except-for-Crowley-bookshop/embassy is also likely not going to stop any demons from getting to Crowley whenever they want. If Aziraphale is really not coming back, then Crowley is alone again, on his own side, for the first time since they saved Job's kids. He's gonna really need that insurance now more than ever and unfortunately, he has no one else to rely on. He’s gonna have to procure it himself, even if it’s dangerous and dumb.

Aziraphale's absence (as much as I am loathe to let go of the theory that Aziraphale and Crowley are just being incredibly dramatic idiots) can also explain some of the dialogue from the 1967 scene.

“What are you doing here?” might seem a silly thing to say when Crowley is parked outside of the bookshop, but makes sense if he's reacting to seeing Aziraphale for the first time in years, so damn close it can’t be a dream, right inside the Bentley.

“I work in Soho, I hear things,” is not just a way to give the audience exposition that Crowley wouldn’t need but a way for Aziraphale to explain why he’s there.

The barely concealed desperation in Crowley's voice when wanting to give Aziraphale a lift home (despite being LITERALLY OUTSIDE THE BOOKSHOP), or to take him anywhere he wants, makes a little more sense if he hasn’t seen him in years, wants to catch up, and doesn’t even know where Aziraphale would be staying if not the bookshop.

If this theory is true and Aziraphale has been absent between 1941 and 1967, it could explain why we don't see the bookshop in the 1967 scene even though everything else in the scene points to it taking place on that corner, it would give Aziraphale a reason for deciding to give Crowley the holy water after all even though hes been stubbornly opposed to it for more than a century, and it could also explain why even though he was making a lot of progress character wise to, it felt like he was regressing again.

#good omens #good omens 2 #go2 #gos2 #good omens meta #good omens 2 spoilers #long post #i would love to hear what you all think about this #im sure im missing stuff that this theory cant explain within the show #but it feels pretty solid to me

[cowgirlcherrie]

college! abby headcanons

 ⊹༝̩̩̥͙ ༓༝̩̩̥͙

warnings: 18+ MDNI, contains both fluff and a smidge of smut, strap, touching, petnames, cursing, weed, Ellie n Abby are friends in this, suggestive in some parts

a/n: no bc I actually drooool at the thought of college abby, so here are some head-canons I have for her, feel free to request in my ask box for ellie or abby, maybe even both, my asks box is always open so don’t shy away from sending what you want to see, but other than that, reader is CANONLY black in this, so some of the points kind of cater to a black! reader specifically (like descriptions etc) but I hope you enjoy this, much love always

༓ Oh my gosh don't get me started, college Abby is literally different

༓ Actually is succeeding academically, she is crazy smart and her GPA is high

༓ a lot of it stems from the fact that she hates letting new people into her circle, so she has grown a comfortable balance in her campus social life

༓ Always has her headphones in, that's her silent way of saying don't talk to me

༓ So many people have a crush on her but she literally does not careee

༓ The first time she met you though, she was willing to bend her no new friends rule, but you weren't exactly new

༓ Abby didn't realize how little she paid attention until a particular afternoon, when you walked up to the lunch table, that sat herself, Ellie (her roommate), and Ellie's girlfriend Dina who happened to be yours.

༓ Your appearance is what struck her, lips parting at the sight of you, practically drooling at the table. Ellie could only smirk from Abby's left watching the girl's brain combust at the sight of you. Your hair was braided, with your edges swooped softly, glossed lips, and stacked bracelets on your wrist. The colors of your outfit complimented your skin really well making making Abby suddenly feel hot.

༓ Your voice too! oh, Abby was heated, it was soft like butter and silk, the way you annunciated your words with a faint accent to them.

༓Abby watched the way your hips moved as you walked away from the table, you cutely waving at everyone including herself.

༓ "Who was that" Abby rushes, snatching the headphones off of her ears and pulling out the Instagram app on her phone to quickly type your name in with ease.

༓ "Really Abby it's been 4 months, that's my roommate y/n, and before you ask, yes! they’re gay"

༓ Oh Abby is and was obsessed with you, she always wanted you to be around and would even ask if you would join them when the group was hanging out

༓ "Oh my god, just fuck already" Ellie moaned in annoyance rubbing her temples, "Both of you are pissing me off"

༓ Anonymous tip masc2masc, Ellie basically told Abby that you were just as heated about her as she was for you, and that was like music to her ears.

༓ Abby works out all the time, no doubt

༓ the type to use the pull-up bar, with one hand, while reading with the other

༓ Abby is an R&B enjoyer, smooth jams, 90s classics

༓ totally listens to Brent Faiyaz, not because she's toxic or anything she just likes his music

༓ You were a bit thrown when she turned on Aaliyah and Ginuwine and she actually knew the lyrics word for word

༓ Abby does end up joining a sports team, either lacrosse or soccer, maybe even both when she feels ambitious

༓ Abby comes to Dina's dorm looking for Ellie only to be met by a tired you opening the door, in both a bonnet and your pajamas. Even when you weren't wearing any makeup you looked beautiful to her, she was infatuated.

"Ellie here?" Abby cleared her throat scratching at the back of her neck, her hair was free from its usual braid, flowing down her back in uniform as she wore a black hoodie that clung to her body just right, and black basketball shorts to match.

"Abby you speak?" you questioned, having to pinch yourself a few times to see if it was a dream.

"b'quiet pretty, answer the question"

༓ Abby must have been lucky that night, because not only were the two sleeping but that now left you and herself alone at the ripe hour of 10:30pm

༓ That night resulted in you tangled in Abby's sheets while her name left your mouth. Abby got a rise out of hearing you scream it, not caring about the curfew that the dorms had in place that might even result in her getting a noise complaint from the RA's.

༓ "you━ look so...pretty under me"Abby grunted out sparsely between each stroke that she gave you with her strap, her face was by your ear to whisper every little thought she's had about you inside, "mmm━ fuck... d-do you know how long I waited for this sweetheart"

༓ definitely doesn't one night stand you, y'all start exclusively seeing each other after that night and Abby doesn't hear the end of it from Ellie

༓ Abby, like Ellie, is so touchy with you that it serves as a way for her to tell you that she's right there with you without verbally saying it.

༓ Definitely keeps one hand on your thigh

༓ When you see her after doing well on a quiz or exam she always tells you that she "has a treat for you" which is really just an endless night of her fucking you.

༓ Believe it or not, Abby actually does go to the library, considering that recently the dorm has gotten loud (by loud, weed loud...Ellie) she does all her work in the library to avoid succumbing to cyphing with Ellie, which she can't because she gets drug-tested for sports.

༓ Only late to class if she doesn't like the professor

༓ Dina is letting her in all the time while you're sleeping and she just sits next to your sleeping body, rubbing her ring-coated fingers across your cheeks as she browsed the internet

༓ captain and leader of the 'u up?' text club

༓ considering that Abby braids her own hair, she is determined to learn how to braid yours as well so she can help you with your protective styles

༓ literally such a good girlfriend and academic god in one, Ellie and Dina were surprised it took the two of you 4 months to actually meet .

#abby anderson #abby x fem!reader #tlou part 2 #tlou2 fluff #tlou2 #abby fluff #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x black!reader #black! fem! reader #black!y/n #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson smut #abby anderson fluff #abby x y/n #abby x reader #modern au #college! abby #modern! abby #sapphic

[dirtyvulture]

The Beef-Off

Beefy!Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Fem!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk

Requested by anon: See below.

Summary: Just a whole lot of beef.

Word count: 1446

AN: Just popping in to drop this off for y’all. ✌️ Enjoy.

Requested by anon: Picture it, Beefy Nat right? …But wait!

There’s more 😱 —Beefy R!

The two have been flirting for eons, but it never really went anywhere significant, until the tension becomes unbearable as both of them started working out together on like a semi consistent schedule. Natasha, little shit that she is, challenges the R to a bit of a “beef-off” (please, word it differently) where they see who can do more reps as the weight increases on a bunch of different machines/equipment.

They each win/lose a couple areas, but when they get to the final zone—the bench press, Natasha stands unnecessarily close to the R’s head (to spot her obvi) as she lifts the weighted bar (easy peasy normally), but seeing Nat’s sweaty physique (like drops down her abs), and smelling her 🫣 cause the R to falter in her reps, nearly dropping the bar on herself, but Nat (knowing lil shit) feigns concern, helping her to re-rack, then the tension just kinda explodes.

Please, and many Thank You’s if you find this interesting. 🙏🏼 🥰

AN: I will not word it differently, anon, you filthy genius lmao.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

"A what?” you say, wondering if you heard her correctly.

“A beef-off!” Natasha explains, with a concerning amount of seriousness.

“What the hell is a beef-off?”

“It’s...It’s a competition of...to see who’s...” Natasha struggles to explain herself. “Anyway, we’ll just go around the gym and see who can lift the heaviest weight on each machine.”

You snort, flexing your arms, which you’re pretty sure have a few inches on Natasha’s. “What do I get when I win?”

“Who says you’re going to win?” Natasha responds, trying to knock you down a peg. While you were extremely proud of your own physique, you would be lying if you said Natasha didn’t have a comparable one. Her legs were much thicker than yours and her butt was perfectly round (and one body part she had caught you staring at more than once). 

Sometimes, you weren’t sure if you had a crush on Natasha, because as much as you wanted to be her, you also wanted to be with her. Or on her. Or under her. It didn’t really make a difference to you.

“Of course I’m going to win,” you say, pumping yourself up with confidence. “I’m in here six days a week, baby.”

“And I’m here seven,” she shoots back.

“Ever heard of a rest day?”

“It’s a full-time job, sweetie,” Natasha says, and you glare at her as she leads you first to the squat rack. You feel your confidence sway; you already know that Natasha works out her legs almost twice as much as you do, and she could probably complete a whole set using your one-rep max.

“I’ll go first,” you assert, reaching for the 45-pound plates and sliding several of them onto the left side of the bar. Natasha mirrors you on the other side.

“You know we’re doing squats, right?” she teases.

You glare at her but say nothing, going to stand under the center of the bar and pushing your shoulders into it. The weight is enormous, even balanced on the rack still, and you wait for Natasha to stand behind you, her chest practically brushing your back. She holds her arms out under yours and with a deep breath you push up on the barbell, taking the weight on your shoulders.

You bend your knees until they’ve made a 90-degree angle with the floor, Natasha lowering with you. Gravity helps you on the way down, and as you start to go back up, you’re grunting and panting and your entire body trembles. You feel complete relief when Natasha guides the barbell back to its rack and you step out from under it.

“Not bad,” Natasha says, clapping her hands mockingly slow. “But throw on a few more plates and I’ll show you how it’s really done.”

You roll your eyes, but Natasha insists you fill the end of the barbell until no more plates fit. The bar visibly sags when she goes to stand underneath it, and part of you doesn’t believe that she’ll be able to get it off the rack at all. 

But you stand behind her anyway, suddenly distracted with how her quads and butt flex when she lifts the weight like it’s made of cardboard. For a moment, you hope she needs help, not because it means you won, but because you’ll get to press yourself against her back, feel her muscles against yours, and--

You don’t even realize Natasha’s done with the rep until she’s turned around, staring at you with her arms crossed.

“I win,” she says.

“Huh? Oh. Fine. Whatever,” you grumble. “Pullups next,” you demand.

Both of you return the many plates to their rightful spots because you’re not heathens, then go to stand under the jungle gym-like bars of the pullup station.

“You can go first this time,” you offer, stepping back.

Natasha scoffs at you and jumps up to grab the bar. She’s wearing a sports bra, so her sculpted back muscles are on full display for you. You can’t take your eyes away as she raises and lowers herself with strict form, looking like the perfect human specimen.

“Twenty-eight,” she pants, dropping from the bar when her arms tremble so hard the entire structure shakes.

“Couldn’t even get to thirty?” you tease, swapping places with her and jumping up to catch the bar. You start pushing out repetitions with ease, too focused to notice Natasha’s eye lingering on your arms and butt. 

“Thirty-three,” you announce, your feet hitting the ground again. 

“Whatever.”

For the last exercise, you two head over to the bench press. You load up the barbell to your maximum weight and lie down. Natasha positions herself next to her head to spot you, but she’s standing closer than the average spotter would and the junction of her legs hovers literally inches over your face.

You try to ignore her proximity, until you can smell her arousal and then you gulp, staring straight up at the bar and ignoring Natasha smirk down at you. It feels like she’s the only thing you can see, in her sweaty, muscular glory, and it makes your stomach clench. You take the bar, pumping yourself up with a few deep breaths, before lifting it off the rack. 

Even though the weight tests you a little bit, it’s nothing compared to the distraction Natasha is. You see a single drop of sweat roll down the center line of her abs and your breath catches in your throat. 

You don’t even remember putting the bar back, or going into the locker room, but suddenly Natasha is ripping your clothes off and then hers, pushing her naked chest against your front and slamming your mouths together.

There is no exchange of words or feelings as you grope Natasha aggressively, desperate to feel every inch of her flexing muscles under your hands. She seems to feel the same, holding onto your bicep while her other hand presses flat against your rippling stomach to shove you into the lockers.

The two of you are almost the same size (you do have an inch of height on her though), but there is a clear fight for dominance now. Natasha shoves her knee between your legs to rub her thigh against your soaking center, and when she makes contact, all thoughts leave your mind and you feel like you can’t even breathe.

“Oh, fuck Nat,” you pant, trying to regain control by grabbing onto her arms and pushing her back. 

“What’s wrong?” Natasha smirks, fighting to keep her leg between yours.

“Wouldn’t you rather taste me?” you ask.

“I wouldn’t say no.” She drops to her knees, but you stop her again.

“While I get to taste you,” you say. Natasha tilts her head, not quite understanding. “Stand up,” you demand, and she does. You twist your torso to wrap your muscular arms around her waist, then lift her off the ground and untwist yourself so that you can spin her upside-down. Natasha understands the idea immediately and circles her own arms around your waist, bringing her face directly to your center. Her legs lock around your head, literally pulling you in to her own pussy and you’re basically smothered by her wetness.

You lean back into the lockers, your thighs trembling as Natasha’s mouth latches onto your core. The smell of her arousal overtakes your senses and you push your face into her wetness, trying your hardest to focus (and also not drop her). Your forearms are tight around her back and her nails carve half-moon shapes into your thighs. 

Her taste is warm and salty as it spills into your mouth. When you find and suck on her clit, she returns the favor and she slips in your arms as they nearly give out. You know all the blood is rushing to Natasha’s head, so she won’t want to be upside-down for much longer, so you push your tongue deeper into her, her walls milking you desperately. Your own center pulses and throbs harder as Natasha’s mouth works on you, and your legs tremble as you near your release.

By some miracle, you both cum nearly at the same time, Natasha’s taste flowing over your tongue and dripping down your chin, as you fill her mouth with yours. Your arms cramp as you unfold them and twist Natasha right-side up, setting her on the ground and panting from exertion.

Natasha grabs onto your shoulders, pulling you down the inch-difference and kissing you, so your tastes mingle in each other’s mouths. You’re light-headed when she finally lets you go, but she takes your hand and drags you over to the showers for a second round.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: PLEASE DO NOT RECREATE THIS. THANK YOU.

Click here for Part 2 (with GP!Reader).

Like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content.

#natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff smut #beefy!nat #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x female reader

[neonghostlights]

Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Actress!Reader (best friends to lovers-slow burn)

★ Series Summary: It’s the ‘90s in LA and you and your best friend Eddie have both made it big. The following is a series of Interviews, News Reports and One Shots showing you and Eddie’s story throughout the years.

★ Chapter Summary: You visit Eddie at his concert and meet someone important. A betrayal leads into an argument.

★ Warnings: Cussing, Arguments, R calls Eddie an asshole, isolation/loneliness, anxiety, food/eating, throwing up, 18+ Only, Minors DNI

★ Wordcount: 3.2k

Series Masterlist

Chapter Three: There You Are

December 1990

You were surprised to get a call from Eddie begging you to come see Corroded Coffin play since they were nearby for one night. 

He apologized, of course, for the radio silence lately. He used charming words to blame it on their busy schedules and constant rehearsals. You knew there was some truth to that. 

It still hurt that he hadn’t even called to check on you in months. Sometimes it was hard to remember that you and Eddie were adults now, but there had been a time when you had walkie talkies to still talk to each other when Wayne and your grandma said you had to go in for the night. 

He used to tell you fantasy stories through those walkie talkies, both of you whispering so you wouldn’t get caught. 

Now you couldn’t even get a phone call or a letter. 

You fed him pleasantries throughout your phone conversation, saying that it was okay and that you had been so busy that you didn’t even notice. You didn’t want to hurt his feelings or make him feel like garbage because you knew he would if you brought it up. 

It was easier to pretend that he couldn’t hear the obvious lies or the way your voice cracked when you answered the phone. 

It was intimidating when you saw the venue he was playing at for the night. It was massive. You had arrived early but the lines of people waiting to get in stretched far out to the parking lot, and it was growing by the second. 

The employees knew who you were the second they saw you, passing you off to an assistant who looked scared shitless to be interacting with you. 

You had brushed off the assistant, asking him for some water so he wouldn’t hover around you anymore as you waited for Eddie to pop up. He scrambled, practically running to find you something to drink. With him gone, you decided to go find Eddie for yourself instead of waiting around for him to be ready.  

By your third lap through the maze of hallways you were regretting it. 

The lights were so dimmed that you could barely see in front of you. There were a few doors lining the hall but with no signs telling you where Eddie might be. Everything started to look the same. 

You were thankful that you had talked Margie out of the original outfit she had planned in favor of just some regular jeans and boots. Margie had originally insisted you dress to the nines like a Corroded Coffin concert was some sort of red carpet event. Like you showing up to support your friends was a publicity stunt. You were happy you fought her on it. You couldn’t imagine trying to stumble around this hallway in some insanely tall high heels. 

Not everything in your life had to be flashy and attention grabbing. That was something you had been struggling a lot with recently, everything being so public. 

Workers rushed back and forth past you, some with clipboards and some with equipment. 

The lanyard that advertised that you were allowed to be there smacked against your chest as you turned around and decided to walk up the hallway again. 

Frustrated with your situation, you tried to wave down a worker who ignored you and rushed away to some more important destination. 

The next best thing was to start opening doors and hope you didn’t walk into anything weird. Eddie had told you about some of the things he had seen backstage before and you didn’t want to be mentally scarred today. 

The first one you tried was locked. 

The next was a cluttered supply closet of some sort. 

The last door opened to a large dressing room. 

There was a table with hair products and a large mirror with lights. Posters lined the walls of what you could assume was past bands that had played there before.  A long red velvet looking couch was pressed up against the wall. 

And on that couch was a man that was not Eddie. 

He looked up at you with shining blue eyes that pinned you on the spot. His bright bleached blonde hair was messy and tousled on the top of his head, sticking up into different directions methodically. He wore leather pants with a leather jacket and no shirt, exposing his chest. 

You fumbled. “I, uh, I think I’m in the wrong room.”

The man stood, approaching slowly. You noticed how tall he was. His head nearly touched the ceiling. “Or maybe it’s the right room.”

It felt like you were the star of a different kind of movie than you were used to being in. Your blood warmed, you held onto the door frame to hold yourself up. “Is Eddie here?” 

“Eddie? No. Haven’t seen him. I’m Collin.” 

“Collin,” you repeated back to him slowly.

 You told him your name.

“Oh, I  already know who you are.” He said with a smile. 

“Oh?” You swallowed loudly. He must've heard because a smirk grew on his face. 

“Mr. Taser, we need you on in five,” a woman with a clipboard popped in and said. 

Collins' eyes never left yours. “Just a second.”

“Right. I’m gonna go find-” You said as you started to back away from the tall, pretty man that looked like  he wanted to eat you. 

“What the hell are you doing in here?” Eddie asked as he came up behind you. You felt the warmth of his body against you as he pushed in close. A hand landed protectively on your shoulder like he was going to pull you away at any second. 

“I got lost looking for you,” you said pointedly, turning to look him in the eye. 

He looked good, but the bags under his eyes told you he hadn’t been sleeping much. You’d have to lecture him about that later. 

“Alright, let's go,” Eddie urged, a bit of bite in his voice as he placed a hand on your lower back to guide you away from Collin.  

“This your girl, Munson? Better keep an eye on her or someone else might snatch her up,” Collin purred. 

Now, usually that type of thing would make you gag. But the way Collin was looking at you like you were a meal had you giggling. 

Fucking giggling. 

“I’m not his girl,” you replied breathily between your laughs. 

Eddies head turned quickly towards you. He was red in the face, looking at you like you were insane. The muscles in his jaw clenched as he took a deep breath. 

You almost felt embarrassed for acting this way in front of Eddie. He shouldn’t be here to witness you melting into a puddle at this man's feet. 

“Mr. Taser,” the woman with the clipboard returned. “We really need you to come.”

Collin slid by you with a wink and a quick “See you around.”

Eddie wasted no time guiding you away from that room and pulling you into a tight hug in the middle of the hallway. 

“I missed you,” he muttered. 

“I missed you too. I’m happy I’m here.”

Eddie looked good. His hair ruffled in an on purpose way. His shirt was undone showing off his chest tattoos. You were sure he would end up stripping off completely at some point during the show. 

What was with rockstars and their aversions to shirts? 

“Who was that guy?” You asked. 

Eddie didn’t seem to like that question. “Collin? He’s opening for us. Do me a favor and stay away from him. I heard he’s bad news and you don’t need to get caught up in that.”

It wouldn’t be the first time Eddie thought some guy in your life was bad news. He had a habit of hating anyone you had brought around, always finding some excuse for you to break up with them or avoid them completely. 

You still cringed when you remember the fight he got into when your first boyfriend of only two weeks broke your heart at the beginning of freshman year of highschool. 

He was just overprotective over his friends. He would do that for anyone he cared for. You couldn’t fault him for that. 

But at some point he had to let you figure things out for yourself. You would think being in your 20’s would be a great time to fly from the protective nest Eddie had built for you. If you got hurt during the fall then that was your problem, not his. 

“Okay,” You agreed as you patted him on the shoulder, not wanting to argue with him tonight. 

Eddie slung his arm around you, something that he always did. It was nearly second nature for him to keep you tucked under him like this any time you were together. 

“I’m all yours for the night, sweetheart. What do you wanna do when we get outta here? Party or food?” He whispered slowly into your ear. Goosebumps spread across your skin from the way his breath tickled you. 

“I think you know the answer to that question,” you said as you poked him in the ribs. You crinkled your nose at the thought of going to a party. He knew that wasn’t your thing. 

Parties were a part of fame that you had managed to avoid so far. One time Eddie had dragged you to a party in highschool so he could deal. You ended up vomiting all over his shoes two hours in from the shitty punch that you didn’t realize was alcohol. 

“That’s what I thought,” Eddie laughed. “Oh shit. I gotta go. Wait at the side of the stage and do not wander off anywhere, I don’t want to have to stop playing to go on a search and rescue mission for you because you got lost again,” he warned with a smile. 

You rolled your eyes. Separating from him so he could sling his guitar, his other sweetheart, over his shoulder. 

A flurry of people surrounded Eddie. Mics were plugged in and instructions were given to him by his manager. Before you knew it, Collin was striding off the stage and Eddie was taking his place. 

The sound of the crowd for Corroded Coffin was deafening. So loud, that you almost didn’t notice Collin standing beside you. The floor vibrated beneath your feet, sending tingles up your spine. 

Your eyes focused on Eddie, the spotlight making him look even more godly than usual. Eddie demanded the attention of everyone in the room, and that’s what he got. The crowd adored him, ready to worship at his feet. Lights flashed brightly and changed colors, illuminating the rockstars on stage with flashes of blues, yellows and reds. 

You could’ve sworn you saw a pair of panties go flying in the air and Eddie hadn’t even done anything yet. 

“Wish you would’ve watched me tonight like that,” Collin said from beside you, pulling you out of your trance. 

“Sorry,” you said with a weak smile. 

Eddie’s warning repeated in your head. You ignored it in favor of widening your smile at Collin, giving him your best celebrity charm. 

“That’s okay,” he said as he took your hand and pressed his lips against the back of it. “Maybe some other time.”

With his lips still on you, you turned your head and made eye contact with Eddie who was staring back at you. His hands were on his guitar, but the straining of his muscles were prominent as he gripped it tightly, threatening to break it in half. 

Collin noticed the look on Eddie’s face.  He dropped your hand, gave you a predatory smile and walked away shaking his head. 

You watched the way he gracefully strode away from you. The workers lingering in the hall pushed themselves out of the way so he could walk past. 

A feeling of horror crossed over you when you looked back at Eddie, who had just watched you ogle Collins backside.  

Corroded Coffin started playing while you and Eddie were locked in a staring contest. 

Eddie had missed his cue to start singing. 

Eddie must have realized his mess up at the same time as you because he painstakingly tore his eyes away from yours, quickly jumping in like a professional and caught back up with the rest of the band. 

No one else would notice, but his movements were rigid on stage. He didn’t have his usual relaxed demeanor as the show went on.  He kept turning to glance at you. His stares at you became so much to the point that his manager, Don, screamed, “The crowds not over here, Munson!”

By the time the show was finished, he was sweating and beelining towards you, not even bothering to thank the crowd. Thankfully Jeff stepped up to the mic and said a few parting words. 

“Let’s go,” Eddie said as he stormed out of the venue while you trailed closely behind him. 

By the time you had both eaten, Eddie was in a significantly better mood. After a few bad jokes, you were even able to make him laugh. 

Maybe his behavior earlier in the night could be explained by him being tired or hungry. 

You both sat cross legged in the tour bus, greasy take out bags surrounding you. The inside of the bus was big, reminding you almost of the trailer you used to live in, but nicer. Surprisingly, it wasn’t as gross as you had expected when you stepped on it. Eddie and the guys must’ve hid anything offensive before you showed up. 

The rest of the guys went out for the night to various parties. Eddie made sure to give them a stern reminder not to bring the party back to the bus that night. 

“I got that part,” you said as you took a sip of your soda. “We start filming early next year.”

“I heard,” Eddie hummed as he took a bite of one of your french fries even though he had his own. He still wore the outfit he had worn on stage. His hair frizzed even though he probably had stylists putting hundred dollars worth of product in it now. 

“How? It hasn’t even been announced yet,” you asked, shifting to get a good look at his face. 

“Margie told me.”

“Margie? You’ve been talking to Margie?” You asked, confused as to why he would be talking to your manager about you. 

“Well, she got in touch with Don and told me to call her. It’s not a big deal.”

It was a big deal though. 

“What? Why?” You were defensive now. Eddie could see it and what hurt was that he probably already knew why you were reacting the way you were. You didn't want Eddie to know the way you had been living the past few months. It was embarrassing and you were ashamed. 

“Listen, she was worried about you. And to be honest I am too,” he said. 

“Worried about me? For what?” You wanted to pretend for a little bit longer that you were clueless. 

“When’s the last time you left your house?” He asked you, arms crossed against his chest. 

You thought for a moment. Leaving the safety of your home was something you hadn’t been interested in for a while. Miles, your assistant, brought you your groceries or whatever else you needed. You had started only doing interviews over the phone. 

Besides Miles, the only other people you had seen was Margie and your sad reflection in the mirror. 

“For the audition,” you said as soon as you remembered it. 

“And when was that?” Eddie asked. “Months ago?”

It had been months ago. You were wishing he wouldn’t have put it together. 

“Why does it matter?” You started picking up the trash around you, hoping that if you started cleaning he would stop asking you questions. 

“It matters because you can’t keep yourself locked away forever. I know you don’t like it when the paparazzi follow you or take pictures but maybe you can just ignore it. You can’t be afraid of attention forever.”

You dropped the bags in the trashcan and whirled around to face him. “I know you love attention, Eddie, so you don’t get what it’s like to walk down the street and have cameras shoved in your face against your will. It’s different for you because everyone either wants to be you or sleep with you.You can do no wrong. For me, they pick apart my weight, or my clothes, or even the way I grocery shop.”

“You just need to ignore all of that stuff. There is nothing wrong with you,” he said softly. 

“Easy for you to say,” you mumbled, looking away from him. You were so mad at Eddie that if you looked at him you might explode. 

“I didn’t want to fight tonight,” Eddie said as he stood up to stand in front of you. 

“You didn’t want to fight but the only reason you invited me out tonight was because Margie asked you to. Right?” You asked, thinking that he would deny it and tell you that it was his idea to see you because he missed you so much. 

The guilty look on his face told you everything you needed to know. 

“Please tell me I’m wrong,” you begged. 

“She brought up the idea for me to invite you here so you would get out of the house. I really did want to see you though and I’m happy you’re here,” he admitted, a pained look on his face. 

“You asshole!” You yelled, surprising Eddie and yourself. “You can talk to my manager about me but you can’t call and talk to me? You were so worried about me but the past two times you called you either hung up on me or got distracted talking to a girl. You are just such a great friend, Eddie,” you spat as you pushed past him to make your way to the bus door. 

“I told you I’ve been busy! I didn’t mean to make you feel like I didn’t care. Stop,” he said as he stepped in front of you, blocking the exit. 

“Let me go, Eddie. I don’t want to look at you anymore tonight.”

“I didn’t want tonight to go like this,” he admitted firmly. “I really wanted to spend time with you.”

“I’m leaving,” you said as you ignored his sad expression. 

Eddie stepped out of the way letting you climb off the bus. Fans lingered by, held back by security and barricades. Each of them hoping to get a glimpse of Eddie but instead all they got was the walking disaster that was you. 

As you got into the back of the car to go home you noticed Eddie watching you from the bus door. 

You blinked the tears out of your eyes during the silent ride home. 

The next day, the tabloids ran a special print. The title read ‘Actress Leaves Corroded Coffin Concert In Tears’ with an up close picture of you, teary eyed and disheveled as you walked away from a sad eyed Eddie. 

One look at it and you were retching up your breakfast in the toilet while Miles held your hair back.

#eddie munson au #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson series #eddie munson imagine #eddie stranger things #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #rockstar!eddie munson x actress!reader #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie munson #90's au

[oneirataxiahiraeth]

can u write something where kai & the reader r using knife play on each other omg & blood sharing like the reader is a vampire or something that is so hot

The Red Means…

Pairing : vamp!reader x kaiparker

Warnings : mentions of blood, blood sharing, wearing, mentions of magic, choking, blood drinking, overstimulation, knife play, smut, swearing

Word Count : 5.7k

A/N :

Kai and Blood Sharing??? Kai and Knife kink??? I haven’t heard of a better idea ever in my life <3 this has been in my drafts for far too long and I haven’t posted in literally forever and I’m so sorry about it<333 but I hope you loved enjoy, this might be my longest piece yet too!

If there was a lesson you would have loved to learn before today, it would be not to snoop around in a witch's garden.

Which is exactly what you did. Which is why you were in the exact position you were right now. Thrashing and groaning in the passenger seat of the car while Damon drove 90 miles and hour back to the boarding house.

"How and is it on a scale from 1-10?" He asked, so much concern present on his features and laced in his tone. "Y/N?! shit." He seethed when you just responded in a pain filled moan, fingernails ripping into the pristine leather of you car seat.

Your body was hot, and the amount of clothes you were wearing wasn't helping the situation in the slightest. It was a painfully familiar heat... one you felt when you first turned. Of course, it wasn't as terrible as this, but that's the only feeling you could connect this to. You didn't want to admit it, but it was hard not to. You were horny. More than usual, of course. You couldn't tell if the hunger you were also feeling was connected to this... feeling, but it certainly wasn't helping. You couldn't even keep in your fangs. They just kept coming out, making sure to have their presence known. Whatever witchy herb you managed to get yourself into was working actual numbers on you.

By the time you reached the boarding house you would've done the most sinful things to be alone with a blood bag. The plan was to lock yourself in your room, hoping that a little major self care moment and a blood bag or 5 would get rid of this insatiable hunger. But Damon wouldn't leave you. He forced himself under you, sweeping you off your feet and carrying you inside. He was worried, and you found it oh so sweet, but god you couldn't wait to get away from him. The second he figured out what was happening you'd never hear the end of it.

"Bonnie?!" Was the first name he called once he bursts through the door. "Stefan?!" He yelled again, hoping that someone would answer. "Where the hell is everybody?!" He grumbling once again.

It was at this point that you could smell it. Whatever it was. It was strong. Dominating you nose and sending the most pleasurable tingles straight to you core, causing such dampness in between your legs you feared that it's show through your jeans.

"It's so early, too early to be yelling-" Kai's voice rang through the living room as he sat up from the couch. His eyes were half closed, eyebrows raised to suspicion what's he saw the clear muddled state you were in. "and too early to be dealing with whatever that is." He groaned as he stood from the couch, letting off a moan as he stretched the sleep from his muscles. The sound eliciting a small quaint moan from you lips, which Damon took as a noise of pain.... Thankfully. "What is that exactly?" Kai asked, curiosity getting the best of him.

You could hear his foot steps growing closer to where Damon stood with you limp in his arms. You wanted to protest, the scent that struck you when you first entered growing stronger every step he grew closer, then you felt it.

Kai.

"I don't know, but something's wrong." Damon spoke, his voice in somewhat of a panic.

"Obviously." Kai remarked, the deepened of his voice earning another noise from you.

His scent. His voice. Him. You wanted it. You needed it. More than you have ever needed anything ever in your entire life. You had noticed Kai before. His smile, his eyes, the absolute charm he held, you were no stranger to it. But right now, it was like all of those things were sending you over the edge. It was a struggle knowing he was right there and having to keep yourself sane. Every fiber of your being wanted him in ways you couldn't even explain to be reasonable.

You and Kai didn't have much of a relationship. Not even a friendship to be perfectly honest. You spoke when it was necessary or you where in the same room. You got stuck alone with him from time to time which you pretended to hate but you didn't find him all that bad. Every now and again there was a bit of harmless flirting between the two of you but that was all. It was nothing totally outrageous but it was common. And you hoped like hell he didn't make any sly remark that might cause you to lose grip on whatever reality you were clinging to.

"You're a witch. Fix her!" Damon spoke up and you prepared yourself to protest... for real this time.

"Damon" you groaned, trying to push away from the the vampire holding onto you. "Let me go." You wriggled from his grip, stumbling onto your feet, knees weaker than you anticipated. You nearly fell, but of course, Kai was right there to catch you. You ducked in a sharp breath before pushing away from him, gathering everything in you to race up the stairs in just seconds. Both Damon and Kai stood confused for only a moment before hearing a room door slam shut.

"Geez... what did you do to her?" Kai asked, a light tone in his voice.

"I didn't anything!" Damon defended only to get a raised eyebrow in response. "We were searching for some weird herb Bonnie had been looking for and she ran into this plant and started acting all weird-"

"Herbs?"

"Yes, herbs! I don't know what was what but obviously whatever it is she got into is messing her up bad."

You locked the door right behind you. Almost immediately, you began to shed off all the constricting clothing you had on. You were such a mess it felt humiliating. A light sweat breaking out across your skin as laid out across your bed, immediately trying to find some sort of relief.

You mumbled out curse words, and thought of the most erotic things your mind could imagine but none of them good enough. Not when you remembered the best sex you've ever had, or you're favorite porn video. Not even when you switched position, trying the usual things that have you trembling with pleasure by the time you were done. Nothing. None of it was working and you knew exactly why. Because they were him. The scent of him still lingered in your nose, filling in the images in your mind with him face. Your demented sick brain thinking of all the things you would allow him to do to you. Thinking of what it would feel like to be pinned down and beg for mercy at the likes of him. Nothing even brought you close until you're mind began flooding with thoughts of him. Even then, even as you felt the built up nothing stuck. It would be so good then slip away almost immediately.

This was certainly going to be a long night.

"I-I-I don't know, it was spiky and she said it like pricked her finger and she started feeling weird." Damon spoke, pacing back and forth in the living room as he tried explaining to Kai what happened step by step.

"I'd have to go up and ask her about more symptoms but there's not much I can do with that." Kai answered honestly.

"What do you mean? How many prickly plants do you know that can this?"

"None. But what you just described sounds like a cactus. And the spindle from sleeping beauty."

"Minus the sleeping and the beauty part." Damon cracked. "I'll call Bonnie and see what she can find out, but just do something to fix her, even if it's just momentarily." Damon sighed, before pulling out his phone and walking off.

You cried out once again in frustration, back flopping down from its arch as you managed to edge yourself for the 4th time in the past 14 minutes. You were on the edge and slowly breaking down. With all your whines and panting you almost didn't hearing the footsteps coming quickly down the hall. The scent attached to Kai became stronger and you prayed he wasn't coming to check on you. Seeing him right now was dangerous for you. With the quaking hunger and the lustful desires for him, you didn't know whether you'd be able to keep your cool once you saw him.

"Y/N?" There was a soft knock at the door. You popped up from your bed, cursing to yourself as you hurried trying to find the clothes you tossed all around the room. "Are you okay? I mean- I know you're not okay, but are you like dead or something?" He asked, tone light and warm. "Don't respond if you are." He smiled to himself at the joke.

"Go away." You groaned, slipping up your underwear seconds before the door began to open.

You were a sweaty mess, parts of your skin more red than other, your face was a shade lighter than the rest of your body, and you stood in an awkward stance trying to cover yourself which really helped nothing.

"Oh wow." Kai blinked, not caring enough to look away at first.

"The door was locked for a reason!" You whined before he turned his head to the side after ogling the hell out of you.

"Was it?" He hummed in response knowing full well he had unlocked the door with his magic before coming in. Of course, if he had known you were half naked, he wouldn't have entered. "I uhm... didn't notice." Slowly he began turn his head back to you, making sure to keep his eyes level to yours, which was possibly the cruelest thing he could've done in that moment.

"What? What do you want?!" You snapped, dang making their appearance as you noticed the redness in his cheeks and the points of his ears. There was a single vein sticking out of the left side of his neck and you swore you could hear his heart pounding your name every 2 seconds.

"Damon told me a little about the plant you ran into but I need to be sure about the symptoms before I can start looking into anything to help." He explained and you let out a harsh sigh.

"I don't know- I don't know- I don't- fuck." You bent over, hands on your knees as you felt the waves of hunger and shocks of pleasure flowing through you. "I'm so..." horny. "Hungry."

"... like burger hungry or-"

"I need blood, kai!" You griped and he nodded. You stood straight quickly, eyes back on his, fighting against the urges but for some reason you just had to be closer. "I need. blood." you were face to face with him in seconds. His scent fueling every drive you had.

"Good, I figured, so I brought you this." He moved his hand from his back to reveal the blood bag he bought from the cellar. "I didn't know which type you preferred so I just grabbed one." Without question you snatched the bag from his hands, tearing into it without guilt.

At first it tasted like you've never eaten anything before in your life... then... it started tasting like rotten flesh. So your raced to the trash can to spit it out.

"No, no, no" you cried shoving the blood bag away from you. Kai watched in confusion before picking up the bag that stopped just inches away from him.

Could you be hungry for him too?

"So..." kai hummed blandly. "Your not hungry?"

"This isn't funny!" You scolded but he just smiled.

"I'm not laughing."

"Get out! Please just leave me alone!" You begged but that didn't really work on him.

"Damon said I had to fix you."

"You can't fix me!" You stated.

"I take that as a challenge." He hummed, and the sultry in his voice made you nearly melt into the floor. "Maybe you just need fresh blood." You stood from the trash, refusing to face him. Looking at him would result in a rush of feelings that you didn't need. "Come on." He held out his wrist as if he wasn't playing with his life.

"Are you out of your mind? Get the hell out!" You'd napped but still he didn't budge.

"Don't make this difficult." He sighed. Then you turned, using the scariest vamp face you could, baring your teeth, threatening him once more. "Motus." He said calmly, bringing you right into his grasped against your already weak will. Your neck found home right in the palm of his hand, earning a particularly filthy moan. His eyes widened for just a moment, head tilted to the side at the reaction.

With the lack of clothing, body rejecting the blood, and slightly trembling in his hands, all of this started to piece together in his mind.

"That's... interesting." He squeezed his fingers around your neck very slightly earning another noise which sent a jolt of excitement through him.

"Kai please" you whimpered, hands wrapping around his arm. You easily could've pried him off of you, but you didn't want to. You needed him on you, you needed him so bad it hurt.

"I think I know what plant you ran into now." He hummed as if it was no big deal. "And luckily for you, I know a few ways to stop... this" he scanned you up and down, hand not budging around your burning skin.

"I'll do anything, kai, please just fix me." You begged with tears in your eyes.

"It's not actually that simple." He released you from his grip, hand dropping slowly, watching as your lips formed a tiny pout. "You ran into some ancient herb with a name way to Long to pronounce correctly that stimulates certain hormones. Your senses are on overdrive, like how they'd be when you first turned. You became faster, stronger, you're hearing and sight grew better, it's all that 10x over." He explained.

"So like vampire steroids?"

"Something like that." Kai shrugged. "You said your hungry, but your body rejected the blood, so it could be that you need fresh blood." He spoke, holding out his arm for you. "Take the fresh blood." He spoke, but you just shook your head. "Obviously you want it no need to be stubborn about to, y/n." He rolled his eyes and you struggled to keep away from his offer. "You don't understand I-I can't drink from you."

"Oh my god, you people are so dramatic these days." Kai groaned. He took the blood bag in his other hand and brought it to his mouth. His eyes flickered to you before mumbling a quick "you are so gonna owe me for this" and taking a bit of the blood into his mouth. You watched in shock, core quivering at the sight of him, a drop of blood hanging off his lip before he shook his head, mixing the blood in his mouth to get it warm.

Since you couldn't drink the cold blood, and refused to drink directly from him, maybe body temperature blood would do the trick.

He grabbed you again, you closer. His hand found the back of your neck, leaning you head back. You opened you mouth to protest before you could feel his lips on yours.

You let off a muffled moan, inviting the screaming pleasure in your panties to fill your mind as the hot blood trickled into your mouth. Soon you became less concerned with the blood and more concerned with the way his hands kept you in place. You wished they would travel to regions you've just spent exploring, but the stayed in place. Almost as if he was trying to be gentleman about what was happening.

"You're a way better kisser than I thought." Kai hummed once he figured he'd given you all the blood he had in his mouth. He released you once again, earning a soft whine. "How do you feel?"

"I uhm, I don't- oh my god" you huffed, trying to catch your breath. "the uhm- it was warm I think I uhm, I don't know" you rambled trying to look everywhere but him. Then that when you felt it... again.

You raced back to the trash can, rejecting the human temped blood into the now tainted white bag.

"And now I have my answer." Kai nodded.

"What?" You wiped the blood from your lips looking back to the siphon.

"Besides hunger what else do you feel?" He asked and you felt your stomach tighten.

"I don't know what your talking about..."

"The plant Damon described originates somewhere the Middle East. It's extremely rare, and is commonly find is some of the oldest, most powerful "love" spells ever recorded in any grimoire." He went on to explain. "Along with your senses, the plant amplifies you're wants and desires, especially wants and desires involving a particular person."

"Ok..."

"I guess what I'm asking is... without being too vulgar... are you horny?"

"How fast can you fix me?" You blinked, lips in a tight line.

"Well, that's the tricky part. I can't necessarily 'fix' you unless you're like totally obsessed with me" he smirked and you felt your heart drop. "Along with the hunger you should being lusting for a specific person and if you haven't pieced it together by now, in order to stop all this..."

"I need to have sex with the 'object of my desires'" you're face scrunched at the words and he nodded.

"Pretty neat how this witchy stuff works huh?" Kai smiled. "You also have to feed on them. I actually remember back in the prison world that it's better to do both preferably at the same time, the adrenaline causes a-"

"There's another fix right? Another way to stop this?" You gripped the trash can.

"Somewhat. I could cast a spell to speed up the process for you-"

"Why didn't you lead with that?!"

"You're cute when you get flustered" he winked "and you'd be in excruciating pain for the next 17 hours... and this way doesn't ensure that the plants effect will entirely wear off." He shrugged.

"What?!"

"Of course you could also wait this out but that'd be like a good few days, or weeks, months even." He spoke as if this wasn't the hardest news to hear.

"So my options are-"

"Breakfast in bed, excruciating pain with side effects, or you can stay like this" kai smiled widely.

"Fuck." You whined.

"So the first choice?" He spoke.

"Y- no! No no no." You whined. "The first option is out of the question!"

"It'd be the quickest and least painful." He tried but you weren't budging.

"Oh my god, please shut up."

"Just text whoever it is, and ask them to help. The worst they could do is say no, and besides who wouldn't want to-" his mouth was moving so fast he couldn't even process the thoughts being spewed out before he caught himself. "help... you..." he cleared his throat.

"You don't understand!" Your tone was a little more assertive than before which caught his attention. "Please just get out!" He didn't argue this time.

He stared at you for just a moment before walking out and closing the door. He stood outside of the door, staring at the knob. Slowly, in what might have been his narcissism chipping away at his brain he started putting pieces together. Horny. Hungry. Wouldn't feed from him. You kept the blood in his mouth down longer than it coming straight from the bag, which didn't make sense. You should've had the same immediate reaction. Kai stood there confused and hesitant. If what he was thinking was true, he had to be the dumbest person on earth not to see it before. Or maybe if it was wrong, the most self centered.

Before he could stop himself he opened the door once again. You were now hunched over the bed, breathing heavy, head hanging down, trying to ignore the temptation that just won't seem to go away.

Kai reached into his back pocket, walking closer to the bed. He pulled out a small switch knife. It had a black steeled blade with red markings, and silver engravings. It was sharp enough to slice through a piece of paper and to draw out just the smallest bit of blood with going too deep in the skin.

"One more thing before I go." He hummed, bringing the blade to his hand and slicing the edge of his palm. Blood immediately surged to the area, slowly pooling in the cut before slowly gliding around his hand.

Your head snapped up at the increasing smell of him. He was right next to you at this point, basically shoving himself in your face. It was like he wanted to break you. Wanted you to fail in whatever moral mission you were trying to accomplish.

"What are you doing?" You tried to back away but it was useless.

"Just one drink." You were frozen still, as Kai walked around you. His chest brushing against your back, arm wrapped around you, bringing his wounded hand up to your trembling lips. You had tears in your eyes, fangs out and ready as you tried fighting it. "Just one."

"Please don't, I can't." You whimpered, as he touched your lip with the blood oozing from him palm. It was too hard to resist it. The second your tongue darted out to taste it, it felt like something took over you completely. Your lips connecting to his flesh, your hands gripping his wrist as you used him as a wall to keep yourself from falling over.

He fought himself from smiling as you licked up the blood from his hand, continuing to nurse the wound, but never using your fangs.

"Good girl, that wasn't so hard was it?" Kai placed his hand on your waist, fingers sending the dirtiest of thought coursing through you. "Can you keep it down?" His voice was almost a whisper, and he almost felt silly when you didn't respond right away.

"I... I need more." You're grip on his wrist lightened as you turned to face the siphon.

"Why didn't you tell me before? I don't bite." He teased. "I'm not complaining though, that blood bit before? That was hot."

"If you don't leave, I don't think-"

"If I wanted you to control yourself I wouldn't be in here." Kai grumbled as if he'd heard this speech a million times.

"I don't think you understand what your saying."

"Fine. I'll make the first move." He grabbed your face before muttering a quick "again."

Your lips connecting so harshly, barely giving you anytime to think. You melted right into him, hands choosing to get lost in the hair at the nape of his neck. The scruff from his freshly grown beard scraping against your face. You couldn't say you minded it at all, but even with giving info just one of your desires it still wasn't enough.

"No, no, I can't" you mumbled against his lips. You were trembling, and you could still taste the blood on his lips but it wasn't making you sick. It felt good. You're skin didn't feel as hot, and those coils in your stomach were getting just a bit looser. "please don't do this-"

He took his same knife, introduced the blade to a fresh patch of skin on his wrist. The dark blade drawing red lines, just overloading the poor vampires senses. You let out a sharp noise, as he brought the flesh back up in front of you.

"You said you needed more right? Take it." His voice was deep and so sure.

You were weak. That's the only way you could describe this. Your fangs sunk right into the wound, a moan leaving your lips at the taste. Kai's hands rested on the back of your head as you tried your best to control yourself. His head growing lighter, and pants a bit tighter. Maybe he shouldn't have, but he couldn't help it, this was just

"I want to." He let out breathily.

"What if I hurt you?"

"I can take a little pain."

"What if Damon-"

"The more the merrier"

"Kai please-"

"The next words out of your mouth better be good."

"Fuck me."

You're back hit the mattress in only a matter on minutes. Kai climbing on top of you without thought. You legs spread to welcoming him his presence. His hips resting against yours as your lips connected once more. The kisses were sloppy, passionate, and rough. You didn't care to hide your moans, or whines as you felt his jeans graze against the soft damp fabric of your panties.

"Need you to touch me" you panted, hands gliding under his shirt, feeling the smooth skin beneath. Part of you wished you could just crawl into his skin, getting as closer as possible to relief. "Please." There was so much desperation in your voice it was just so hard not to give in.

The kisses just got less and less composed, kiss lips leaving trails all along your jawline, suck bruises that wouldn't last for more than a few seconds. You pleaded and begged for more, whining and you felt his hand slip into your ruined panties. Kai was shocked at how wet you were, his fingers just slipped right through your folds, like you'd been waiting for him your entire existence. Part of him knew it was just the plant and the increased libido, the other part of him chose to focus on the fact that he was the only one who can satisfy you in this state. You wanted him this bad. And he was surely going to soak it in.

"Please I need it so bad" you we're near tears, frustration and somewhat of discomfort raging through you.

He obliged, slipping one finger into your entrance. You left out a soft moan, gripping his biceps a little tighter than you had, signaling him for more. So he gave you more. Your blinking became inconsistent, eyes not knowing whether they wanted to stare at him or fall back. He watched carefully as he pumped in just two fingers, scissoring them in as his hand slowly became covered in your slick. Every thrust of his fingers his palm came in contact with your clit. The most sinful lewd wet sounds filling the air along with your beautiful cries and pants.

"God, I thought your voice was hot before, but this is just something else" he chuckled, the sound echoing through your mind sending you right over the edge.

"Fuck" you cried out, breathing erratic and stomach tightening as you get just a bit of the pressure release before it built back up again. "I need more. Please, I need it I need you"

"You have such good manners." Kai smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to your neck.

"I need you inside of me, Kai." You pleaded, only seeing how amused Kai was by the situation. His smile making the vein on the side of his neck more prominent than usual. "This will make the hunger go away right? This will help?" You asked, naked bloody thought coursing through your mind.

"Nope, you still have to feed." Kai spoke, removing his hand from you panties, fingers glossy and covered with your arousal. Without thought he sucked off the slick from his hand, moaning at the taste, pushing his crotch a bit more into yours making sure you could feel the bulge growing in his pants. "You won't hurt me, y/n, I'll live." He stated but you just couldn't. You couldn't even look at him, it was too much. The touching, his voice, his scent, it was clouding over everything. "Y/N." He spoke again, using a hand to grip onto you chin, forcing you to look back up to him.

"just give me time," you're voice was small. "I can't- not now... I really just need you inside of me."

   "don't act so sweet now, y/n, what do you want?" He teased, dropping the matter of feeding... for now.

    "I want you in-"

"What do you want." He repeated, not happy with the answer she was trying to provide.

    "Please Fuck me." She whined. "I need your cock in me so bad, Kai." He wasted no time in giving into the girl underneath him.

It was slow and sensual. You're jaw fell as he pushed so deep into you, you could practically taste him on your tongue. You're eyes were struggling to stay open, jaw trembling as you let out a high pitched squeak.

If you knew how good this would feel before, you would've been a lot less hesitant earlier.

"Shit" he groaned, your grip on his arms tightening as your hips connected. "You're so fucking tight"

"I'm so close, kai, please" you whined.

His hips retracted before slamming into you once more. The sinful noises out of your mouth filled the air, and suddenly nothing mattered. You didn't care that Damon could possibly hear, or about the amount of judgement you'd face once this was all over. You felt the best and worse you love ever felt at the same time, just chasing after a feeling that only Kai was able to gift to you.

    "Fuck you're so deep" you cried out, mind spiraling to depths you e never experienced before.

   His grunts filled you're ears as his head dipped down. Sounds so raw and beautiful just sweetening the moment.

  But you could feel it. That hunger. It was so strong, so needy, you couldn't fight against it. You're fangs exposed themselves against your will. Veins under you eyes showcasing themselves as you tried to contain the emotion. His skin was just so close to yours it made it hard to resist. His neck on display right next to your face. The light layer of sweat he built up calling your name.

   You tongue darted out, tasting the salty mess he worked up.

    "I'm so sorry" you're whimpered  out, not giving much warning as to what you were about to do. You fangs came in contact with the sensitive skin on his neck, sinking in so deeply you swore you heard a moan from the man currently fucking the life out of you.

   "Shit" he groaned, slowly his movements as you took what you deemed necessary. Hips grinding up into his, to provide yourself even more pleasure. It didn't take long. With the taste of his blood taking over your tongue and his cock twitching inside of you feeling like it was almost ready to burst, you couldn't help it. “Holy shit” he moaned out.

It was euphoric, but you still needed more. You nothing something more.

“Harder, please give it to me harder”

“Got my cock and my blood, yet your still not satisfied?” The siphon teased, blood now rolling from his wounds. Every now and then a drop falling onto you chest, and he pounded into you.

“Oh fuck, that’s so good” you had tears in your eyes, finally feeling some relief that hopefully would’ve been permanent. You’re hands now feelings over his blushing muscles, smearing blood against his skin, getting the liquid sex all over your fingers and deep into your cuticles. He watched as you popped three blood coated fingers into your mouth, sucking off the juices very carefully. Moaning loudly as he showed no mercy to you.

After a few seconds of lightheaded mess from loss of blood, Kai took a quick look around before locating the long disregarded pocket knife from earlier. At the foot of the bed, which was easy to acquire, he flipped out the blade and choose the spot he wanted.

He snatched your fingers from your mouth, earning a pouty whine. Like a scene from the more erotic movie he then replace your tongue with his, finishing the job you started, and doing it oh so well. You watched in awe, as he took his blade, slicing you once across the wrist, immediately bringing the skin up to his mouth before the wound could close. Your jaw dropped at the notion.

Blood sharing was something so… intimate… personal. Something you had never seen you’re doing with someone in a million years. Yet here you were getting the immortality fucked out of you while your crush fed on you.

That was just enough to send you spiraling.

Your legs began to twitch, can’t tightening around his cock. Tears slipping down your cheek, and your free hand gripping the sheets so tightly you swore you heard a ripping sound. Kai had never witnessed such a erotic sight, you eyes struggling to stay open, and you body shivering as he continued to fuck you through your high. The tightness and the way you cried out his name over and over like it was the only thing you could say sent him over the edge. Once he felt he was as deep as he could get he let himself go, hips stiffening, breathing heavy, and warm seed painting your hot walls without concern from either of you.

And that’s when you noticed it.

The pain. The discomfort. It was gone.

“Holy Fuck” kai pants out, slowly allowing himself to collapse on top of you.

The two do you laid there for a few moments in simple silence. Kai hadn’t even thought about pulling out, his seed sitting inside of you causing you a fullness in two different ways. You caught your breaths together, legs still trembling from the mind numbing orgasms.

“That was… uhm… really good.” You spoke, voice low and kinda of raspy.

“We should’ve done that way sooner.” Kai chuckles, his head resting next to you neck. “God that was amazing.” You smiled, heart picking up in pace.

“Thank you, by the way-”

“No thank you, if you weren’t as clueless as you were you wouldn’t have found that plant, and you never would’ve told me how you felt about me and then-”

“And back to being an ass”

#wattpad #vampire diaries #kai parker smut #the cw legacies #damon salvatore #malachi parker #stefan salvatore #tvd smut #tvd imagine #tvd fanfiction

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 17: massage

Based directly on S9E18

Masterlist flufftober 🎀

Reblog if you liked it!

Spencer felt like he couldn't lift a finger, figuratively and literally. After the dirty trap that Morgan had laid on him and García, his body had been completely sore and he didn't even know how he was able to return home, where after quite a bit of effort he managed to take a bath and spent the next few hours lying on your shared mattress.

“Are you sure you will survive?”

“Right now, I don't know. The pain is winning the battle” he complained exaggeratedly, with his voice muffled by the sheet under him and his eyes closed.

You laughed at your boyfriend's whiny attitude and, feeling sorry for him, you approached the edge of the mattress, stretching out a hand to caress him up and down his back.

"Poor baby"

“Ha, ha, make fun if you want, not all of us have incredible physical endurance like the perfect Mr. Coach.”

“I didn’t say that,” you huffed. He just was being dramatic, but over time you had gotten used to it “What you need is a pair of hands that know how to take care of you.”

Your voice had sounded so soft and seductive that Spencer mustered all his strength not to moan when one of your hands slipped under his cotton shirt and began to rub his bare skin.

Suddenly you remembered that you had some coconut oil among your things and you rummaged through the drawers until you found it, meanwhile asking the man to get rid of his shirt. You warmed the oil a little in your hands and then began to slide them down his back, listening to him sigh with satisfaction. Fortunately for Spencer you had grown up in a family quite connected with their spiritual side, so you had some knowledge and practice in the matter, and it was not the first time that you pampered him in that way.

"How was your day?"

“Tired, as always,” you replied, putting a little pressure on his tense muscles. “And I want to murder Sandra from accounting”

“Let me know before you do it, I have a couple of tips to make sure we don't catch you,” he teased, the last words being slightly drowned out by a whimper as you hit a sensitive spot.

He adored your hands, which were delicate and careful with him, but at the same time they pressed him just where he needed. At some point you got tired of the position you were in and, without consulting him, you decided to climb onto his lower back so you could massage him better.

“I tell you this every time, but you really are the most uptight person I know. It looks like you have stones instead of muscles."

“90% of the things that bother me are due to stress, it doesn't even surprise me anymore”

Little by little he felt the pain being replaced by relaxation, until very soon he no longer even remembered what had kept him in bed all afternoon. He swore he could fall asleep under your touch and it wasn't until he stopped feeling the pressure on his butt that he knew you were done.

“Don't get up,” you said, immediately seeing his intentions to change the comfortable position he was in “Stay like this for a while or it's going to hurt”

“If I stay like this any longer, I'm going to fall asleep,” he complained, without a hint of lie in his words. You managed to leave a kiss on his cheek which he responded with a tender smile.

“Well then rest, you need it”

After saying that you looked for a sheet to cover him so that the cold from the window wouldn’t penetrate his warm skin. You still wanted some dinner so you turned off the lights and wished him goodnight, hearing him hum in response. When you returned to finally lie down to sleep, he had already made room for you and as soon as he felt your body sinking into the mattress, he stretched out to cover you, while whispering a sleepy and sweet thank you.

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14 @spencerslove @vivian-555 @r-3dlips @rhiannonhippiegirl @taygrls @simp4f1 @sdddoobydoobydoo @taintedstranger

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x you #flufftober 2023 #prompt list #writing challenge #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid drabble

[cosmicstarlatte]

Beel A-Z Smut HCs (Obey Me!)

⬅Back to Smut HC A-Z Masterlist ◇

18+ only, minors do not interact.

My personal headcanons using this [prompt list]

The goal is to finish the whole list; you are welcome to request a letter so I get to it faster. I will work on it as quick as I can but keep in mind I do have a life & responsibilities lol. ^^

Last Updated: Oct.1.2023 (6 out of 26)

⚠️Notes: I'll tag any sections if needed. If you think a section needs a tag, kindly let me know.

A: Affair (Describe an extra-marital affair)

B: Birthday (Describe birthday sex)

C: Compliments (Mid- and post-sex compliments)

D: Dry Humping (Describe a dry-humping scene)

You only went into the kitchen for a snack & you somehow ended up pushed against the counter with Beel dry humping your ass. Still, the gentle(?) giant wouldn't let go of the devil croissant in his mouth & managed to swallow it with another bite. "Mmph. Sorry. C-couldn't resist." You moaned as you felt his cock twitch against you, desperately wanting more. His arms were wrapped easily around your waist. "C-can I?" He asks as he continues grinding & a hand slipped to reach for your waistband. "Beel what if someone walks in!" You whined yet still pushing up against him. He swiftly pulled your bottoms down, "...it'll be really quick."

E: Experimenting (Trying something new)

F: Firsts (First time having sex together)

G: Gentle (Describe gentle/loving mid-sex gestures)

H: Handsy (When they can’t keep their hands to themselves)

I: Initiator (Who initiates most of the time? How?)

J: Jealous (“Claiming” a partner)

K: Kitchen (Describe a sex scene in the kitchen)

L: Likes (What they like in the bedroom)

M: Morning (Describe morning sex)

N: Never (Things they would never try)

O: Orgasm (Describe coming--who comes first? What do they say? How does the other person know it’s approaching?)

You're always going to cum first about 90% of the time. The only exception really being if you decide to just give him a blowjob. Anyway Beel's a giver, he loves to eat, we know this already! He could stay eating you out for hoursss. He's the type to say thank you & ask for more when you cum on his tongue. He tells you how delicious you taste.❤️ Now if he's cumming, you know by the sudden gasp and low groan he always does, always pushing himself as deep as he can go & you always eagerly await the big load this giant gives you. :3

P: Playlist (A playlist for getting down and dirty; will probably include a lap dance song, a song for making love, and a song that represents their sex life)

Q: Quiet (Reaction to a quiet partner)

He doesn't really feel one way or another about it, he's just a big teddy bear that loves to make love with you.🙂 Of course the few sounds you do make when he stuffs his massive cock in you does turn him on, he prefers to see the pretty sexy faces you make as he fucks you senseless. ^^

R: Ruttish (Signs that they’re horny)

Beel has his moments & he can be blunt. If you're dating, he'll tell you & ask, respectfully, if you want to fuck lol. If you're not together quite yet... well, he's going to be a little clingy & you'll notice him smelling you a lot more often like some tasty snack he can't wait to have. He'll have a flushed face & somehow eat more than he already does until something is finally done about it.

S: Safe Word (How often is the safe word used? Why?)

T: Teasing (Who’s the tease in the relationship? What do they do? How often?)

U: Undressing (Strip teasing a partner)

V: Videos (Sending NSFW videos to each other)

W: Wedding Night (Consummating the marriage)

X: XXX (What kind of porn does the person watch? How often?)

He's not too picky & usually finds whatever is on the first page or two of a porn site. Sometimes he will look at food porn but tbh it's a lot more distracting & he always ends up feeling hungry after it. He doesn't really watch it that often & prefers to imagine his own little scenarios in his head.

Y: Yawn (How they sleep post-sex)

Z: Zoo (Their animalistic qualities in the bedroom)

tags: biting, breeding He's a biter, he loves to mark you in so many ways. Some are soft bites & others are harder love bites. He loves to leave his scent on you!!! Also sorry if he does get just a little rough, he can't help it when you look so small, all he wants to do is breed you. He loves doggy & the mating press, please let him go wild with you ♡

#obey me #obey me beelzebub #obey me smut #obey me headcanons #obey me beelzebub smut #obey me beelzebub headcanons #obey me smut headcanons #obey me beelzebub x reader #obey me beelzebub x you #obey me beelzebub x mc #obey me beel #◇˖・ﾟ— › cosmic obey me . ⊹