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bruisedleftknee · 11 days

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I need to talk about what it's like when you and Noah live together. You're both open to trying new stuff, right?? You have some friends over for a movie night, and you're watching a horror movie that is kind of erotic??? Oh, you know that is going to lead to *things* and I'm gonna tell you all about it.

Tags & Warnings: Fingering?, Oral Sex (Both Receiving), P in V, Slight power play, After care.

Word count: 2.6K

(I don't think it's anything crazy, but if it needs more tags and warnings, please let me know.)

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It's a typical Saturday night at your place, you and Noah have friends over, and you're watching some old horror movie together.

It's late. The coffee table is covered with empty pizza boxes and paper cups. Everyone's watching the movie, and the house is quiet.

You're sure you've seen this movie before, the woman is handcuffed to the bed and the man dies of a heart attack or something, but you're tired and a little too sleepy to remember any other details.

You're thinking about the ending of the movie, trying to remember how exactly it happens, so you tilt your head to Noah to ask him if he remembers it or not, but you see that he's looking at you. He has his hands up, his fingers locked together, and he looks like he's been staring at you in the same position for a few minutes now. He's resting his head on his shoulder, and you can see he's sleepy too.

You smile at him. "Wanna go to bed?" you ask him. "Yeah, I think I'm getting old for these late nights," he answers as he gets up from the couch. He reaches for your hand to help you get up, says good night to everyone, and you both start walking to your bedroom upstairs.

"Guys, you know where the pillows and blankets are." You tell your friends, and you're walking behind Noah, holding his hand. "Yeah, g-night" your friend Jolly says as he scrolls his phone.

***

You're upstairs. Noah's already in bed, looking at some cat videos on his phone, wearing only his black boxers, with the blanket only covering one of his legs.

You finish your skincare routine, change into your comfy pajamas, and crawl under the heavy blanket.

When you get in bed, Noah puts away his phone and opens his arms for you, He always does this because he loves falling asleep spooning you.

You get comfy in his arms and leave a soft kiss on his bicep. He kisses the back of your head and wraps his other hand around you.

"We've watched that movie before, haven't we?" You ask him. "Yeah, we have," he answers in his low, sleepy voice.

"I don't remember the ending,"

"She gets herself out of the handcuffs and finally faces her fears."

"Oh, you're right; I remember now." You say, "Don't you dare die if you ever handcuff me to the bed.".

He stays silent for a few seconds. "Can I handcuff you to the bed?" He asks in a playful and curious tone, moving his hand and placing it gently on your breast.

"Wait, were you thinking about this when we were watching the movie??" You ask, surprised.

"Hmmm, maybe." He answers, "So, can I?"

"Hmmm, maybe," you say, mocking him, but you're wondering if you want that or not.

"Can I do it now?" Noah asks; his voice doesn't sound sleepy anymore.

"What? Like right now?" You're even more surprised now.

"Why not? I promise not to die," he says, laughing at his own joke.

"You have handcuffs?" You ask curiously.

"No, but we can use other stuff." He kisses your neck and plays with your nipple that is now hard from thinking about the things the two of you can do if you say yes.

"Baby, it's okay if you don't want to; you know that, right?" He assures you between kisses. "Actually, I think I'd like to try." You answer with a little doubt in your tone, you're not sure if you'll like it or not.

"Are you sure?" Noah asks you again, "Yeah," you say, this time with less doubt in your voice.

Noah starts kissing you, and soon you lose count of the number of times he's pressed his lips on your skin.

Noah is lying on his left side; his left arm is under your head. You're lying on your back, your right leg is on his thighs, and your legs are wide open. He has his right hand in your panties, gently playing with your clit.

Between the kisses he leaves on your neck, you hold his face with one hand so you can kiss him.

You try to keep quiet; you know your friends are still up cause the TV is on, but you also know if you make too much noise, they can hear you.

It's quiet in your bedroom; the only noises you can hear are the sound of you and Noah's breaths and the noises your wet pussy makes when Noah slowly fingers you.

All this time, you've been thinking, When is he going to tie your hand? What is he gonna use to do it? Is he gonna tie both of your hands to the bed frame or just one? What is he gonna do after that?

"Do it," you say to Noah after moments of making out in silence.

"What?" he asks.

"Tie me up," you say between kisses. "Don't keep me waiting."

He smiles, kisses your forehead, and goes to the bathroom. A few minutes later, he's back with his Jujitsu belt in his hand.

"You're going to use that?" You ask, you never thought he might use that to tie your hands some day.

"We don't have to if you don't like it," he assures you. But you do like it, you didn't know if you would, but now every fiber in your body tingles to feel the things he's gonna do to you sooner.

"No, I do," you say as you start undressing and lay closer to the bed frame. Noah comes to the bed, holds your hands, and starts leaving kisses on each one of your fingers, then starts tying your hands with the belt.

Now your wrists are pressed together slightly above your head.

"Tell me if it's too tight, baby," he asks you.

"It's good." Your heart is starting to beat faster every second.

You're lying in the center of the bed, and your hands are tied to the bed frame above your head.

Noah sits in front of you on the bed, opens your legs, and caresses your inner thighs with his soft hands.

You don't know why your legs are shaking; you're not afraid, you're curious and excited.

He leans in and starts kissing a line from your glistening core to your lips, inch by inch, he leaves kisses on your skin.

He goes to your nipples and starts licking them. With every lick, you close your legs a little; it's involuntarily.

"Keep them open for me," he tells you, and you try to do exactly that.

He touches your core with four fingers, and you stop yourself before a moan comes out of you, but when he spreads your arousal on your folds and sticks two fingers inside you, your moan isn't something you can control anymore.

"Better keep it down," he tells you, but you're still moaning; you'd cover your mouth with your hands if they were free, but they're not.

When your moans get more frequent, he puts his big hand on your mouth; his hand covers almost all of your face.

When you're finally quiet, he moves his face towards your navel, kisses it a few times, and then goes where his fingers are—your hole.

How long can you really last if he's playing with every sensitive part of your body? Your hole is stuffed with his fingers, his tongue is on your clit and he's moved his hand to your breast and is playing with it like it's his toy. And this has been going on for minutes now, so how long will you last?

You try to pull your hands out of the knot to do something, to control the pace, to grab his head and tell him to stop cause he's making you crazy and you need a pause to breathe, but you realize that there's no escaping this, and it's so exciting.

You shut your eyes, and your mouth opens as he circles your clit fast. Your back arches, and you feel so close to orgasm. "M'gonna.." you tell him, and immediately he pulls out his fingers and lets go of you.

"Not yet, baby." He's not touching you anymore, you open your eyes to see him sitting between your open legs looking at you.

"Whyyy did youuu stop?" You whine and try to stop the vibration that you're feeling inside you by closing your legs and pressing them against each other, but he stops you from doing that.

You turn your face to your side and try to bury it in the space between your shoulder and neck. He holds your face with one hand, says, "Eyes on me, baby, we're just starting," and puts his thumb in your mouth.

He takes off his boxers and sits on top of you; his thighs are on both sides of your shoulders; he strokes his dick, and you can see a drop of precum hanging from its tip.

"Open," he tells you, and brings his cock closer to your mouth, and you listen. "You know that's not enough; open more for me." He waits, and when your mouth is wide open and you have your tongue out, he puts the tip on your tongue. You taste his precum and try to lick it, but he stops you by taking away his cock. "You want it, don't you?"

You bring your head close to him so you can reach his cock, but he pulls away. "Tell me what you want, Y/N."

"You. Please, I want you." You say looking up at his tall figure.

You open your mouth again, and he pushes his hard cock into your mouth. Its tip hits the back of your throat, and you gag a little. Your head is pinned against the mattress, and you can't control the movements; the harder he fucks your mouth, the more you drool. Your saliva is all over your chin, and with every harder thrust in your mouth, more tears run down your cheeks.

"You take me so well, baby. A little more.." He says in between his breaths in a low voice.

He holds the bed frame and fucks your face harder and faster. Your face is covered with your tears and saliva. You feel like you can't breathe right, and he's going faster and faster, then suddenly he stops. His dick pulses and twitches inside your mouth. His eyes are closed, and he's breathing heavily.

He slowly pulls out his cock and comes down to kiss your mouth, His tongue brushes on your lips, and he licks the saliva off you lips.

"You're wonderful, you know that?" He tells you as he wipes your tears with his fingers and smiles at you.

You smile back. "Do you want me to continue?" he asks. "Yes," you tell him.

His dick is covered in your saliva. You can taste his precum on your tongue.

He strokes his dick and sits where he was sitting before; this time he comes closer, close enough that your butt cheeks touche his thighs, he rests your legs on his shoulders. His touch makes you legs legs shake, he kisses them, "Relax baby," he tells you as he slides the tip of his cock between your folds. He doesn't give you all of it, you whine and moan, you want all of him.

"Dies this feel good?" He asks you with a smirk on his face.

"Noa.. h.. I need more," Your tears are running down your face again.

"I asked you a question." He goes a little more in.

"Yes, yes, it's so good."

"Is this all you can take?"

"No please.. Give me all of it, baby, please." You beg him; your voice is a little louder than it should be.

"Shhhhh.." he says as he presses himself into you.

You have him now, all of him. You feel your walls adjusting to him with every thrust. His hands are on your knees, keeping you closer to him.

He starts to circle your clit with his thumb. Your tears haven't stopped, so you have closed your eyes to stop them.

"Open your eyes, baby, look at me," Noah tells you. "Look at me; I want to see how you take my cock."

When you look at him, his head is tilted backwards, and he's hissing in pleasure, trying to keep quiet.

Looking at him, watching his cock and how he thrusts into you and how he's enjoying it brings you close to your orgasm; you feel it in your stomach, and if your friends weren't home, you would scream so loudly, but you don't say anything. If you tell Noah that you're close, he will stop, so you don't say anything, and when he pinches your clit your mouth opens wide and your eyes roll back. He's pounding his cock inside you and playing with your clit. You're seeing stars and trying your best to keep your body still, and seconds later, without saying a word, you come.

"I.. I came," you say quietly between his thrusts.

He looks at you surprised and confused, "No baby you didn't," and slams himself into you harder.

"Noah, p- please" Your pussy feels even wetter than before, your release is all over your cheeks and his thighs and you feel like you don't have the energy to go on another second.

"You're gonna cum for me." He presses his finger on your clit, grabs your neck and slightly presses his fingers on the sides and fucks you harder. "Come on baby, show me you can do it."

As he goes harder, you feel your second orgasm building, your legs are shaking and your back arches, "I'm gonn-" your toes curl, and when you let out a silent scream as you feel the release.

He stops and pulls out quickly. "You did great, baby. Can you give me a little more?" He kisses your belly.

"Mhmm" You nod cause you're too fucked out to talk.

Noah grabs you by the waist and helps you turn your back to him. Your hands are still tied to the bed frame, but you have a little room to change your position.

You get on your knees, rest your head on the mattress, and he puts a pillow under your head.

You haven't said a word since you came for the second time cause you're still swimming in pleasure, but Noah has been praising you for how good you were.

When he's inside you again, he has both hands on your back. You close your eyes and try to focus on the pleasure you feel when he moves inside you.

He's been going for a long time now, and before you know it, his rhythm gets messy, he reasts his head on your shoulders and puts both hands on your sides, and he fucks into you faster. He hisses in pleasure when he comes, empties himself inside you and stays there for while.

He kisses your shoulders and your back and slowly pulls out. His cum drips out of your hole, and you gasp at the sight you're seeing from between your legs.

Noah gently helps you sit on your knees. He opens your hands and kisses the red marks around your waists, then he kisses you and sits you on the bed.

He rushes to the bathroom and comes back with towels and a glass of water.

He hands you the water and kisses your head. "Was that fun?" He asks and starts to clean you with a warm damp towel.

"Yes," you sip your water, "more than I thought, actually. Was it fun for you?"

"Of course, baby. It was amazing. Thank you."

Noah sits on the bed beside you, kisses your head again, and you hug each other.

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eternalxvenus · 18 days

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༻ room for one more? ༺

summary: after many failed dates, you begin to give up on the dating scene until Sarah and John B give you an interesting proposal.

cw: smut 18+, sarah x f!reader x john b, threesome, oral (f and m receiving), face sitting, overstimulation, squirting, dirty talk, praise, p in v, unprotected sex, pet names (sweetheart, pretty girl, good girl, baby), brief drug use, lmk if i missed any!

wc: 3.6k

notes: thank you to the lovely @juniebugg for giving me this amazing idea, i loved writing it and hope i did it justice 🙏🏽

☆ obx masterlist ☆

The sun was setting but the day was still hot, a soft wind tickling your skin. You were lying on your towel, opting to enjoy the last few rays of the sun with Kie. JJ, Pope, John B, Cleo, and Sarah were all in the water swimming and playing around. You all had a rough week for different reasons and so JJ called for a mandatory beach day.

As you dozed in and out, listening to the sound of the waves, Kie nudged your side softly. "So... how is the whole dating thing coming along?"

Even though she was genuinely curious, you couldn't help the sting of embarrassment as you tried not to groan. "Not so great. I have a date with Kelce tomorrow, but I'm not over the moon excited." You turned to look at Kie through your sunglasses with a tight smile. "If this one doesn't work out, I'm giving up."

Her nose scrunched up in mild disapproval. "Kelce? I didn't think you'd go for someone in that circle.

Truth be told, you usually wouldn't. Even though the whole Kooks vs Pogues thing isn't as relevant anymore, some Kooks were still stuck in their old ways. "Me either. He came up to me and started a conversation at the boneyard a couple nights ago and asked for my number. Now we suddenly have a date at the country club," you sighed with a shrug.

"Even if it doesn't go well, don't stress it. You don't have to push a relationship anytime soon– you're still young."

You sat up and turned onto your back, deciding to take a nap while you could. "Easy for you to say. You have JJ, Cleo has Pope, and Sarah has John B. I'm the odd one out." Kie gave you a solemn smile but didn't say anything else, which you were thankful for.

A few hours later, everyone was out of the water, and the wind picked up leaving goosebumps on their wet skin. While everyone was drying off, Kie woke you up and said it was time to go.

You asked John B to take you home because you had plans tomorrow. As everyone laughed and joked around with one another, you couldn't bring yourself to be in a cheerful mood knowing they each had their special person within the group.

Once you were home, you immediately took a warm shower to try and let the warm water relax you. It did somewhat, but it didn't stop your brain from overthinking. After what felt like hours of tossing and turning in bed, one melatonin later, you finally were able to fall asleep and stay asleep.

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The room was unbearably hot when you woke up. You flung the covers off you as you wiped the light sheen of sweat from your forehead. You'd left the window open, and your AC wasn't on. With an irritated groan, you got up and closed the window. Wanting to cool down your room as quick as possible, you turned the AC on as low as it could go.

You checked your phone and saw a few missed messages.

Kie: have fun on your date, lmk how it goes!

Sarah: if you aren't busy later come swing by the chateau :)

Kelce: morning, i'll be there at 1 to pick you up for lunch. can't wait to see you.

You sent in your replies and got ready for your date with Kelce. Light makeup and a cute but simple white dress. As you grabbed it from your closet, you saw the red dress you shoved in the back with the price tag still attached. You'd bought it impulsively while shopping with the girls one day but had never worn it.

It was a mid-thigh deep cherry red with a slit and showed off your cleavage perfectly��according to Sarah, at least. It had never seen the outside of your closet, no matter how many times your friends tried to make you wear it. You never felt like you could truly pull it off.

There were five minutes to spare when you'd finally finished up. As you were spraying your perfume a text from Kelce came in letting you know he was outside. You grabbed your purse and met him outside, where he sat in his car.

A small sigh left your lips. He didn't bother to meet you at the door. Perhaps he wasn't the gentleman type. You got into his expensive car, the leather seat cool from the AC blasting on high.

"Ready to go?" He asked, giving you a once over. You nodded softly and gave him a small smile. Neither of you spoke much the entire ride there. You sat on your phone checking social media, playing games, anything to pass the time.

Kelce parked in front of the country club and beckoned you to follow him. He led you to the outdoor patio that connected to a restaurant. After a waiter sat you both and you ordered drinks, Kelce started the conversation.

"So, is this your first time at the country club?."

"Uh... yeah, it is."

"What do you think of it?" he said, taking a sip of the drink that had been placed in front of him.

You shrugged, "It's nice, I can see why people come here." There was a beat of silence and you knew this date wasn't going to be the best.

"Honestly, I'm surprised we're here right now. I never thought I'd be taking a pogue on a date at the country club. But you're really hot, so I've got no complaints."

His statement made you internally roll your eyes. "Right..."

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You were back home, feet aching slightly from your shoes, and the heat was making you feel groggy and gross. The date was not good. All Kelce could talk about was himself, the kook life, and how he wanted to bring you to a party at Topper's next week. You declined. He also made slick remarks about you being a pogue which pissed you off.

You: hey sarah, i'll be over in a bit.

She sent a thumbs to your message. You got in your car and made your way to the chateau. When you pulled up, you saw John B out by the deck.

Inside you could see Sarah walking around so you went in to greet her.

"Hey, I'm here," you said knocking on the door as you walked inside.

"Hey! Glad you could make it." She sat the plates she was holding into the cabinet and motioned for you to sit. She came over and sat next to you on the couch as you both got comfortable. "Kie mentioned you had a date… how did it go?"

You picked at your nails and shook your head. "Not too great."

Sarah hummed sympathetically. "Well, Kelce isn’t as interesting as he makes himself out to be." You both laughed as you nodded in agreement.

You laid back on the couch letting your head fall back. "When is everyone else coming?" assuming Sarah or John B had something planned for everyone tonight.

"Actually, I only invited you. John B and I wanted to talk to you about something," she sighed. You felt nervousness bloom in your stomach as she stood up. "I'm gonna go get John B, just sit tight."

While waiting for them to come back your mind was wandering, not sure what could be so important that they had to talk to you together and in person. The door swung open and Sarah walked back in with John B right behind her. No one spoke as they pulled up two chairs and sat in front of you on the couch. John B gave a soft smile which helped your nerves just a little.

"Okay so," Sarah spoke up. "We weren't really sure how to go about this so just bear with me here. You're one of our best friends and we've spent a lot of time together over the years..."

You could hear your heart beating in your ears, almost drowning out Sarah's voice. Please don't tell me they don't want to be friends anymore, you thought to yourself.

"Anyways, me and John B have been talking. We both find you attractive obviously. And we wanted to invite you to bed with us! Like a threesome." Sarah had a smile on her face and your eyes widened.

"W-what? You want to have a threesome? With me?" They both nodded.

"Basically, me and Sarah had been talking and we asked each other who we'd want to hook up with if we were single. To our surprise we both said you, so we figured why not just ask."

Your face felt burning hot with shyness and embarrassment. You'd only had sex one time and it wasn't all that great. You and your boyfriend at the time had wanted to lose your virginities to each other but neither of you knew what you were doing.

Sarah's hand grabbed yours and pulled you out of your swarming thoughts. "You don't have to answer right now." She was caressing the back of your hand with her thumb reassuringly. "Go home and just think about it. We'll be waiting patiently for your answer— no pressure at all, okay?"

The air in the room felt a little less heavy. You knew they wouldn't force you or be mad if you decided not to. "Okay," you said with a small smile.

They both hugged you, walked you to your car, and waved you off home. On the ride back, all you could think about was whether you should accept or not. You weren't experienced and didn't want to disappoint them.

You were laying in bed but once again couldn't sleep. You decided to take a few hits of the weed pen JJ had given you a while back, it's lasted you a while since you only use it when you can't sleep or need to relax.

Once you felt the high encompassing your mind you laid down and closed your eyes. Your mind drifted to the thought of being in bed with Sarah and John B. With that, you fell asleep.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱✩•̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

It had been three days since your threesome invitation. You had thought about it a lot. Even though you hadn't spoken to Sarah and John B directly, you all still talked in the group chat with everyone else like normal.

It was still early in the morning when you texted Sarah.

You: hey are you and John B up yet?

20 minutes later, you got a reply.

Sarah: good morning! i am but he's still sleeping lol. what's up?

You: i've given it some thought and i wanna do this but are you sure? i'm not the most experienced when it comes to all that

Sarah: i'm so happy! thank you for trusting us and don't worry we'll both be there to guide you. are you free tonight?

You said yes and she told you to come over at 7. That gave you 11 hours to completely freak out before heading over there.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱✩•̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

The warm air from outside blew into your car as you sat outside the chateau, trying to give yourself a mini pep talk. They suggested that you come in loungewear, so you wore shorts and a cropped tank top with no bra, all things considered.

You went up and knocked on the door and waited. John B came and greeted you with a hug. He didn't hide the fact that he was taking in your body.

"Hey, come in. Sarah's finishing up in the shower so she should be out in a few minutes." With a brief nod, you followed him inside.

It was so weird, normally the chateau felt like a second home. You'd help yourself to whatever and never felt out of place. This time it was the complete opposite. You didn't want to touch anything or sit without someone telling you to. You felt like a guest, who was visiting for the first time.

John B sensed your nervousness and gave you a smirk. "Don't get all shy now sweetheart, we haven't even started. Speaking of which, is there anything you wanna do? We could have some takeout, watch a movie, anything really."

You gave him a puzzled look. "I thought we were going to... you know."

"I love your enthusiasm," he chuckled. "We are, but Sarah and I both thought it'd be best to ease into it rather than just jump right in. We want this to be as comfortable as possible for you."

It was the little things like this that reminded you that these are your best friends. They knew you like the back of their hand and wanted this to be enjoyable for you and them. "A movie sounds nice," you said with a smile.

A little while later you were all sat on the couch watching some random movie that you'd picked. It wasn't all that good but you were still tuned in. Your eyes glanced away from the TV when you felt Sarah's hand start grazing the inside of your thigh. She was still facing forward almost as if nothing was happening. You looked back at the TV and spread your legs a little wider.

It was summer, entirely too hot for any blankets— even with the cool air of the AC blowing— so if John B looked, he'd see what was happening. The light, teasing touches went on for a few more minutes and you could feel yourself getting more and more worked up. You were ready to break the silence and ask for more until you felt John B's lips on your neck. A soft gasp slipped past your lips as your eyes fluttered closed.

"This okay?" he muttered against your neck, and you nodded. "Use your words, pretty girl."

You managed to whimper out a soft 'Yes' which encouraged them both to keep going. Sarah's hand moved higher, lightly rubbing you through your shorts. A moan slipped from your pouty lips at the contact and you tried grinding your hips against her hand for more stimulation. "Let's go to the bed," Sarah whispered.

The short walk was filled with little kisses and light touches, none of you wanted to stop even for a second. Sarah instructed you to take off your clothes and lay on the bed. She and John B did the same as she sat behind you and John B positioned himself in between your thighs.

"Fuck... your pussy is dripping." You attempt to close your legs but he has a strong grip on your thighs. "Don't try and hide yourself, I wanna see everything."

Sarah brought her hands up to massage your tits, your nipples feeling painfully hard. "John B is gonna use his mouth to make you feel good, okay?"

"Okay– oh!" He wasted no time licking a long stripe to collect your arousal on his tongue.

"How does she taste baby?" Sarah asked. You could hear the lust and neediness in her voice. "She's so fucking sweet, like candy." John B couldn't help but moan as he continued to move his tongue in and out of your hole. You felt one of Sarah's hands leave your breast to touch herself behind you. Her soft moans make you even more turned on.

John B brought his mouth to your clit and sucked hard. That was all it took to have you falling over the edge in pleasure. One hand squeezed Sarah's arm while the other tugged on John B's brown tresses. Your moans filled the room as you rode out your first orgasm of the night.

Sarah replaced your spot in front of John B and once again he wasted no time lapping at her essence. Once she reached her peak John B didn't stop he was pushing her into overstimulation and instructed you to hold her legs open.

"John B! Please– ohmygod– it's too much!" she tried to push his head away but he didn't budge until he pulled another orgasm from her. You watched in amazement as she started to squirt making a mess of the bed and his face. He wore your combined juices proudly, not bothering to wipe any of it off.

You leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Fuck Sarah you look so hot like this, squirting all over the place, being so messy." She whimpered at your words as John B finally gave her some reprieve.

She pulled you down so your lips collided with hers in a heated bruising kiss. Her tongue swiped across your lip and made its way into your mouth massaging your tongue.

In the corner of your eye, you saw John B stroking his hard cock slowly. Sarah noticed as well and gave you a smirk. "Let's show him how thankful you are for making you cum."

John B positioned himself up against the headboard and Sarah brought you face to face with his length. "Grab the base and take him into your mouth. He likes it really messy," She whispered while keeping her gaze on him. You followed her instructions and did your best to please him.

Once you'd taken as much as you could into your mouth, a light gag leaving your throat, he groaned. "Fuuuuck, that's it, take it all in that tight little throat." You went at your own pace for a bit, then Sarah took over gagging you on his cock at a brutal pace. Your eyes watered and there was spit and drool all over your chin and his pelvis. John B's thighs tensed and without warning his load filled your throat forcing you to swallow it all.

You coughed a bit and Sarah rubbed your back soothingly while you and John B caught his breath. "You did so good baby." She went to kiss your neck and caress your body.

The praise did things to you. "Thank you." John B pulled you against him and kissed you deeply. "Do you wanna keep going, sweetheart?" John B muttered against your lips. The room felt so hot in combination with all the body heat and the summer air. You were definitely spent, but you wanted to go again. "I want you inside, please."

He nodded and moved you down to straddle him. Sarah moved to sit on his face, facing you. She moaned, feeling his tongue on her clit again. You sink down on his length feeling completely and utterly full. Sarah pulled you in for a kiss as you rocked your hips in a slow rhythm.

The stimulation on your clit from grinding felt delicious, you knew you wouldn't last much longer. One look at Sarah and you could tell she was close too. "I wanna cum together," you whispered against her lips. "Okay, together." she nodded. John B pushed his hips up to get impossibly deeper and gave a harsh such on Sarah's clit, pushing you both over the edge.

You both collapsed onto the bed, your body completely worn out. Sarah and John B left kisses and comforting touches anywhere they could, telling you how well you did and that they were so proud. Their voices faded away as sleep overtook you.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱✩•̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

A month after your night with Sarah and John B things couldn't have been better. You'd spent many pleasure-filled nights at the chateau. They were always showing you something new and making you feel so good. There were even times when it would be just one of them if the other was busy or not around.

You weren't expecting the text from Sarah asking you to come over considering you were just there two days ago. She asked you the wear that red dress which made you even more confused.

Walking into the chateau, not bothering to knock, you saw the table with lots of food and a candle adorning the middle of the table. "What's all this?" you questioned. John B and Sarah both turned from their spot in the kitchen and greeted you.

"We wanted to do something special to thank you, you look beautiful by the way," he said leading you to the empty chair. They sat down at the table and you could tell something was coming up. Even Sarah looked a bit nervous. Maybe they were going to end things.

"So, we don't want to keep you here with this uncertainty. We did all these because this past month has been amazing. You've always been a great friend and I think– we think– doing this has made us incredibly closer." You nod in agreement. "We want you to be our girlfriend. We'll be an official polyamorous couple. I don't want to have to give you up to someone else and neither does Sarah. We want you to be ours and we'll be yours completely."

You felt like the wind had been sucked out of you. They wanted you to be their girlfriend. Before you could say anything Sarah chimed in. "Sorry if this seems sudden and we understand if you want to keep things how they are. You don't have to have an answer–"

"Of course I would," you cut her off with a wide smile. You could see the worry leave both of their faces. "God I love you." Sarah laughed leaning over to place a kiss on your cheek, John B following suit.

The rest of the night was spent having an amazing dinner and even better sex with your new partners. Never in a million years did you think this would be your life but you loved it and you loved them. They were your best friends and lovers wrapped in one.

likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#sarah cameron #john b routledge #sarah cameron smut #john b routledge smut #sarah cameron x reader #sarah obx #sarah cameron obx #sarah outer banks #john b x reader #john b obx #obx x reader #obx #obx smut #outer banks #black!reader #black reader #divider by: plutism #black writers #john b smut

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normansnt · 2 months

Text

For old times sake (pt.2)

(Huskerdust x platonic! Male!overlord reader)

I'm really happy with how this turned out. Non of y'all asked for it the idea just hit me so I had to write it down😎

ALSO

I'm VERY likely going to write a pt.3 thats an Alastor x male reader so lemme know if ya'll would want that🫡💗

Warnings: V@lentino

Art by the very talented: @dragon-spaghetti

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You were having the best time. Talking to Husk and Angel was very fun and you saw the amazing chemistry they had. You guys were talking laughing and drinking in your office when suddenly Angels phone started to get bombarded with messages.

You felt the sudden shift in atmosphere. Angel hurriedly reached for his phone and when he saw the messages he jumped up.

"It was nice to meet you (Y/N) I had a lot of fun and thank you for the drinks but I have to go now, Husk baby I'll see you at the Hotel don't wait up for me if I get home late."

He said, with one breath and quicker then you have seen anybody talk and left with the same speed.

"Shit..." said Husk as he stood up with a sigh to pour himself another drink.

"What was that?" You asked baffled.

"It's...its his job, his boss he is... a fucking cunt"

Said Husk with audible anger in his voice.

You were about to ask more questions but then it hit you. You knew angel was a porn actor. And you also knew about the Vees. It was easy to put the picture together from this point on. And judging by Angles terrified reaction, Husks anger and cussing you could quite easily tell how his boss treated the spider.

"Hey, Husk" he looked at you with tired eyes.

"I have an idea." You said at last with a smirk on your face.

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"HAHH, suck it idiots, guess who was invited to a business meeting by THE (Y/N) Demon of gambling." Yelled Valentino as he entered the Vees break room.

"What. The. FUCK, give me that" said Vox pissed as he tore the invitation from Valentinos hand.

"THAT BITCH, why did he invite you and not all of us."

"Never mind that who the fuck sends messages via letters?" Asked Velvette disgusted.

"This is the way the big shots do it, you uncultured swine" said Valentine still very full of himself due to the invite.

"That doesn't make ANY sense" Vox has read the invitation at least 3x by now not understanding why you invited only Valentino.

The Vees have been trying to get in contact with you for years now but to no avail. You had no interest in any alliances since you thought them to be stupid and egoistic, if overlord meetings were something to go by.

"Deal with it honey, I'm just better than you guys" ended Valentino the conversation as he snatched the letter from Vox and blew the pink smoke from his cigarette into his face.

-------------------------------------------------

Valentino showed up to your casino with Angel by his side dressed in...well, almost nothing. Of course he wasn't gonna show up without a pretty thing by his side and who better than his favorite toy.

"If you embarrass me in front of the demon of gambling I'll-" he started saying through clenched teeth but got interrupted. By you.

"Mr. Valentino, it is such a pleasure to meet you." You started as you put your hand out to shake.

He shook your hand slowly. He was surprised to say the least. One of the most powerful overlords was this young, not to mention very hot. When he got over his surprise however his personality was back and on FULL display for you. He turned on his charm like never before and started shamelessly flirting with you.

You just kept the calm smile on your face.

"So, Mr. Valentino I'm sure you are wondering why I invited you and we will be having a business meeting do not threat however I'm afraid I have something else to take care of first, please go ahed and try out the games my casino has to offer and drink something, all the drinks are on the house for you."

Now, in a situation like this normally Valentino would be offended. How dare someone invite him and then say they have something else to do.

But you were different. You were a very powerful person in all aspects, your goddamn charm, it was just irresistible not to mention the free drinks.

"Well all right but do not keep me waiting for long now, amor." He said with the ever present flirtatious tone in his voice.

You didn't react to this, just a simple nod of your head and with that you left.

Valentino hasn't gambled much in his life, or death, he just stood by when Vox did it, so he sat down by a random table.

He won. To his (and Angels) biggest surprise, he won.

"Oh, yeah, this is going to be a good night. ANGEL, bring me another drink."

This was just the beginning of the night. He continued to go around table by table, and he won, by every single one of them. And the more he won the more he drank.

About two hours after he arrived one of your employees came up to your office.

"It's time sir I think he is drunk enough." Said your guard. So, you put down the book you were reading and stretched. You didn't have anything to do, that was just a lie. It was just part of the plan.

When you arrived downstairs you saw that your employee had been right, Valentino was standing on the table singing and kicking the coins he had won.

You cleared your throat.

"Mr. Valentino, I'm glad you're enjoying my casino" with that one sentence you got everyone's attention in the room.

You could have that effect. You weren't a cruel overlord and didn't choose to rule over people by the means of fear. But you could make it so that even just your voice demanded respect.

"I see you have won quite a lot, would you care to play a round against, me?" You said ever so calmly.

And of course drunk and full of himself due to not loosing once all night, Valentino was more then happy to play with you.

"Now then, since we are playing in the big leagues now we cant just play for money thats below us don't you think."

"I'd like to be below you, handsome" he answered.

You just hummed, unamused.

"I say, how about we play for souls."

That caught Valentino off guard, he didn't think of that, but he didn't want to make a fool of himself in front of you so he agreed.

"And...whose soul would you be offering? I heard the demon of gambling doesn't own anyones soul" said Valentino with just a bit of temptation in his voice.

You hummed.

"You heard correctly, I'm in no need of souls, I will be offering...my own" you said still as calm as ever.

To that Valentine spit out his drink. The amount of power that would be in his hand if he owned your soul is...too much for his drunken mind to think about. And of course due to the amount of alcohol in his system he didn't think about how stupid this proposition would be on your part if you weren't 100% sure you would win. He didn't even think about the fact that you are the demon of gambling, the owner of a casino, it would have been obvious to anyone that he had no chance at winning.

"Well then, I'll offer the soul of this beautiful thing here" he said while squeezing angels cheek.

You looked at Angel and said

"Very well then, let the game begin.".

After a few rounds, you were loosing. Big fucking time and Angel was starting to get very worried. But not only him, Husk, who was the whole time as well, making sure the plan goes well, was starting to doubt you two. He knew first hand just how good you were especially in poker, but it was still a game that depended on luck at least 50% of it.

When Valentino needed a break to go puke, Husk walked over to you.

"Kid, just what the hell are you doing you are aware that you're loosing." He said pretty pissed off.

"Oh, I'm just messing with him-"

"Well stop, what if you mess too close to the sun you might be good but you cannot control your luck."

"Luck is a non factor if you use logic. You seriously think a porn seller, money hungry, moth man big shot wanna be will beat me, in Poker? Don't insult me." And with that Valentino returned and the game continued.

He kept winning rounds and Angel and Husk were growing more anxious by the second.

Finally the last rounds were coming around and thats when you decide you messed with him enough. And just like that you started putting down winning hands one after the other.

Valentino was panicking. He is about to loose his best paying costumer whatever you come out with this round everything depends on it-

Royal Flush.

You fucking won the game.

Now that the loss has sobered his mind he could finally look at all of this in a logical way.

Of fucking corse you won. You are the mother fucking demon of gambling just how the hell did he think he could win.

But the wins before. Hold on. That was illogical too, NO ONE goes to a casino and wins every fucking time was he really that drunk not to notice.

You broke him out of his thoughts when you snapped your fingers. And Angels contract that bound him to Valentino appeared in your hands.

However now, where Valentinos name used to be, stood yours.

"Well, Mr. Valentino that was a very productive business meeting I hope to never see you in the future"

"...What?" asked the moth angrier by the minute.

"You still haven't figured it out? I do not care for you or the other Vees business. Did it not seem suspicious that I only invited you? What am I saying of course it didn't, because a narcissist like you would never ask why someone wants their company. See, thats why tricking you was so easy. Getting you drunk wasn't even necessary I only did it so I can be sure that you will play for angels soul."

"...but, but...NO, Angel dust is still mine, he-" Valentino went to reach for Angel but Husk stopped him.

"No he fucking aint." Hissed the cat.

In panic Valentino tried to make the leash appear but to no avail. A deal was a deal. He doesn't own Angel's soul anymore.

"Just why the FUCK was it so important to you to get a wretched whore's soul?" Asked the moth now yelling.

"It was a favor for an old friend."

"You mother fucking- do you know who the fuck I am, I will destroy you me and the Vees-"

"No" you stated simply.

This was the last drop for Valentino.

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN NO-"

"I would like to ask you to leave now Mr.Valentino and, please tell your partner not to send me any more invitations, I do not care"

Valentino made one last attempt to attack you but your guards stopped him.

"I was winning all night you dickwad I sucked your casino dry" tried to irritate you Valentino.

"Oh? Thats right here, isn't this one of your coins?" You threw it at him.

"Of course, every coin has two sides."

Valentino turned the coin around to discover a big fat 0 at the other side.

"What-"

"You really thought you won at every single table? Wow, you are even stupider than I thought."

It was part of the plan, you told everyone who worked at the casino wherever Valentino sits down, he wins, at least coins of zero. You needed to boost his confidence so he'd think he can beat you.

"You will not take him away from me I'll find him-"

"You will do no such a thing he belongs to me now so he is under my protection." You were getting a but pissed now, he just wouldn't give up would he?

He was about yo say more when you looked at him. Dead in the eyes. Thats half the reason why you are as powerful as you are. The look. If you looked someone deep in the eyes they will see their worst nightmares playing right in front of them.

Valentino started screaming, crying and shaking uncontrollably. And with that your guards dragged him out.

You turned to Angel and Husk, who were standing there holding hands.

You looked at Angel, lifted the contract, and tore it in half right in front of him.

Angel was staring at you. He stared as tears started to roll down his cheek and he fell to the ground in sobs.

'I'm free' he thought to himself over and over again. Husk chuckled as he knelt down to his boyfriend and hugged him.

You two locked eyes, and you understood just how thankful he was, words weren't needed.

You wanted the couple to have some privacy so you headed back to your office.

Unbeknownst to you another demon was present that night at the casino, and he saw the whole ordeal.

"How well you grew up to be, young (Y/N)" chuckled Alstor to himself.

"(Y/N)" you heard Ang- Anthony yell from behind you.

You turned around with raised eyebrows and looked at him.

"THANK YOU" he yelled still sobbing.

You smiled at him.

"Happy to help, for old times sake."

#male reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin x you #hazbin hotel x male reader #male y/n #hazbin hotel #lgbtqia #hazbin husk #hazbin angel dust #huskerdust #angel x husk #angel dust x husk

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carolmunson · 2 years

Text

fixin' dinner. (sadist!eddie x f!masochist!reader)

back again with a mean sadist!eddie (also technically mechanic!eddie) and his hot masochist gf. let's explore the one time they played 'mean 50s husband and hot 50s housewife who can't get her shit together.

warnings include: smut, minors dni. established dom/sub sadist/masochist relationship, all aspects of the scene being written are consented to between these fictional parties, belting, spanking with belt, general threats, degradation, humiliation, emotional sadism, physical sadism, mean names (bitch), pet names (baby, honey, darling, etc.), face slapping, slight breeding kink, p in v sex (unprotected), teasing, rough sex, food mention, the works. eddie is MEAN in this, as a reminder. this doesn't feature aftercare but it sort of doesn't need it in a way. ---

When the phone rings in the trailer, you know it's him.

"Hi," you chirp.

"Hi sweet thing," his voice is warm and crackly, tired. Like it was this morning when you woke him up for breakfast.

"What's goin' on, you okay? Staying late?" you ask, leaning against the wall in the kitchen.

"No, babe, I'm about to leave -- just wanted to know if dinner was gonna be ready by the time I got home," he smirks when he asks, your eyes linger at front door's frame -- his leather belt hung on a nail next to it. You gulped.

"Uh, um..." you stammer, heart starting to pound.

"You better hope dinner's ready by the time I get in the door," his voice is menacing, "Or you're gonna be in for a world'a hurt, you understand me?"

"Y-yes, sir," your mouth runs dry but your lower half can't say the same. He'd brought up this scenario weeks ago -- 'Like those 50s housewives baby, how their husbands would get home from work and they burned dinner. We could do it like that? You were just saying how I haven't used my belt in a while. It could be fun, huh?'

He ran you through it this morning, going through your normal 'do you trust me?' routine before he left for work so you didn't have to do it before starting. 'If you decide you don't wanna play anymore, just say 'I ordered pizza' when I ask if dinner's gonna be ready, okay? I love you either way. Gonna fuck you on that counter either way, too.'

He was insatiable.

"Don't disappoint me," his voice takes on darkness so easily. You bite your lip to hold back the whimper in your throat.

"I won't," you whisper, "I promise."

"See you in twenty," he says, "Love you." He hangs up before you can tell him you love him, too. Eager. You take the time you have to freshen up before her arrives -- you had already burnt dinner, it sat on the stove blackened and crisped on purpose. He'll love the extra effort you put in to make it authentic.

The green tinged light of the bathroom mirror isn't doing you any favors, but you glide on some Dr. Pepper lip smackers and a little blush for good measure. Pouty and flushed, just how he liked it.

You put on a flouncy dress with flutter sleeves, the kind of dress that buttons all down the middle. Frabric that flounces with you when you walk, hitting just above your knee. A spare apron from an old French maid costume completed the look along with a pair of fake pearl earrings, and heels that made Eddie fall to his knees. You smoothed over the apron, hearing his van pull in noisily, the slam of the driver side door. Normally you're so ready for these interactions, for his harshness, for his angry stare. Today felt different, you were in the headspace, you were a little afraid.

It was exciting.

You plaster on a smile when he comes through the door. His grin meets yours, and so does the scent of gasoline and oil blended together with his sweat. His hair is tied back today, tendrils and bangs crowding his face, showing off his jaw -- the stubble left on it from this morning.

"There's my girl," he's gruff, pulling you by the waist to kiss you -- it's passionate, like he hadn't seen you in years.

"Hi honey," you flush, trying your hardest to stay in character and not just bend over the couch, "Good day at work?" "Better when I know I have you to come home to," he smiles and winks, taking off his work shirt all the while revealing his oil stained wife beater and the two silver chains he wore around his neck. His steps are broad and deliberate on his way to the kitchen, scraping one of the metal chairs away from the table before collapsing into it like a brute.

"Get me a beer, sweet thing," he demands, tutting while you get one from the fridge with dainty and graceful movements -- his pretty little thing, "Shouldn't have to ask you, should just have it when I come in." "Sorry, dear," you respond, watching him open the bottle on the edge of the table. He takes a swig, licking his lips while he looks you over.

Please just fuck me, you're so hot right now, you try to send him the message telepathically but he's not getting it.

"It's okay," he says, taking another sip and setting the beer down, "What's for dinner, angel?"

Your eyebrows raise, but you shake the fear off, forcing another smile, "Darling, I'm so sorry. I accidentally burned dinner. I can make something else if you'd like! Anything you want!"

"So dinner isn't ready?" he asks, surprised.

"It...well, it was. It burned," your voice was meek, he salivated over it.

"So you burned dinner?" his brows furrowed, standing up slowly from the kitchen chair.

"You burned dinner?" he asked again, his face stained in anger, "Am I hearing you right?"

"Baby, I'm sorry -- I was just trying to get it done on time and the oven was on too high. I'm sorry," your lower lip wobbles, he rolls his eyes before they end up in a hard glare down at you. "I work all fuckin' day, every day, to keep a roof over your head," he takes a step forward while you step back, "I break my fuckin' back so you don't have to lift a fuckin' finger. And you can't even manage to make me fuckin' dinner?"

"I...I did -- it just -- it burned -- I'm -- " you sputtered, taking careful steps while backing away from him. You shook in your heels, his eyes menacing and shining with rage.

"So what is it, huh? You too stupid? Too lazy?" he spits while he stomps forward in his combat boots, the floor shaking while he cracks an open palm hard against your cheek, "You a fuckin' idiot, is that it?"

The force sends you reeling, hands immediately reaching for your stinging face -- certain there'd be a mark left behind later. Tears prick your eyes but you don't want to cry yet, opting to swallow the air pocket flying up from your chest -- desperate to steady your breathing.

"No, I -- it was an accident," your back hits the wall and he takes a deep breath through his nose, letting it out the same way like a bull ready to strike. You can feel a pulse in your cheek where he hit you, the places where his rings hit starting to swell. You make a run for it, checking his shoulder while you do, smearing oil on your dress's flutter sleeve.

"Oh, no, no, no," he taunts, turning at his waist and catching your forearm in a vice grip to pull you back to him, "Don't you run away from me when I'm talking to you."

"Don't you have any manners?" he asks, slamming you against the wall to cage you in with a hand resting by your shoulders. You nod, tears pouring hot down your cheeks, mascara streaking over your rouge.

"Answer me!" he growls, you wince -- your eyes shut tight.

"I h-have manners," you stammer out, eyes still closed.

"Look at me," he huffs, "You know better." You do know better than to not look at him when he's speaking but you just can't. You hang your head instead.

"Oh, you don't wanna listen? Go get my belt," he sighs, pushing his curly bangs away from his forhead, "Gonna have to teach you, aren't I?" "No, I -- please no," you plead, eyes popping open, but it gets you nothing but fingers digging into your jaw.

"If I hear another sound come outta that mouth that isn't you cryin' and apologizing to me, m'gonna make you sleep outside in the van," his threat feels real and your heart hammers, "Do I make myself clear?" "Cr-crystal," you nod. "Now," he mutters through gritted teeth, peering down at you with his jaw forward, "Go. Get. My. Belt."

You sulk, walking the short distance to where his belt hung by the doorframe -- a reminder every time you left his trailer, best behavior. You lift it off, running the length through your hands -- thick and wide, he never wore it, it was only for play.

"You think I got all day?" he calls. You shuffle into the kitchen, your heels scraping against the linoleum leaving scuff marks in their wake.

"And you've been leaving marks all over my floor," he spits, wrenching the belt out of your hand and wrapping some of the length around his knuckles. He shoves you roughly over the kitchen table where you obediently assume your position, shoulders shuddering while you lift your dress up.

Eddie takes the casserole dish with the charred dinner and tosses it in front of you, "Baby, I don't like having to do this, you gotta stop giving me reasons to. What is it, huh? You gotta go back to school and take home ec or somethin'?"

"No, sir," you barely squeak out.

"Like I said earlier," he says gruffly, bringing the belt down hard across your ass, "You're in for a world'a hurt, tonight." It doesn't help that you like the belt. You like how he looks in the kitchen light while the shadows from the florecents enhance the muscles in his arms. His sneer when he rears his arm back, his smile -- almost relief when he hears the loud crack of the leather hitting your skin. Your release and his.

The act happens in slow motion, your heart beat in your ears while he brings the belt down on you again. You falter in your heels a little, your knees buckling a bit at the force.

"Get up and take it," he harshly demads, "Get that ass back up."

"Yes, sir," you whisper, fixing your posture. He sounds like he's underwater, your eyes start to glaze over outside of the tears. His belt meets your thighs, your sit points. He always took extra measure on those so he could watch you wince and whine later on a hard chair or in the van. The burn and sizzle on your backside started earlier than normal, but he wasn't starting off light. With his belt, he never did.

"Always gotta.." thwap, "..tell the guys.." thwap, "..what a fuckin'.." thwap, "..disappointment you are." THWAP. You can't help but start crying out, trying to muffle it with your hand so the neighbors don't start asking questions. You're standing on your toes in your heels to meet the intensity of his whips on your backside.

"And they always say.." thwap, "..just gotta.." thwap, "..show her whose boss.." THWAP.

"But you know who the boss is, don't you baby?" he coos while you cry into the hand covering your mouth. Body stinging and burning.

"Yes, sir," you whimper.

"Whose the boss, hm?" he asks, his hand smoothing over your back. "You're the boss," you sniffle, putting both hands back down on the table. "That's right, baby," he says back, his voice back to soothing honey, "That's a good girl."

"You need some more?" he asks gently.

"Please," you breathe out, "I need t-to learn my p-place."

"Fuck..." he mutters under his breath, your eyes peer down to see the perfect outline of hard cock against his dark wash jeans. His hand gripping the belt tight, veins pulsing from his hand up his forearm -- his tattoos dancing with them. He'd been thinking about this all day.

"Say it again," his voice his ragged while he brings the belt back down on you. "I need to l-learn my place, s-sir," you repeat, wincing while he continues, blow after blow. Your skin was raw, the cooling end of summer air outside doing nothing to soothe you through the screens of the open windows.

"Yeah you do," he says to himself, grunting with each come down of the leather. He bit his lip at the jump in your hips, watching you start to get weak under the repeated smacks, your knees buckling more often -- fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

Eddie drops the belt with a clang and you jump to attention, turning around to face him.

"I'm sorry baby, I -- I can't," Eddie starts, "I'm callin' it I gotta -- oh fuck, I gotta fuck you right now."

You nod, ugh finally, taking a step toward the hall to get to the bedroom but his hands come up to roughly shove you back on the table -- beer bottle and casserole falling to the ground, shattered glass and mess to be dealt with later.

"This fuckin' body -- this dress? You know what you're doin' to me, don't you," he smirks, shoving your dress up to your waist and pushing your thighs up against your chest.

"That's why you wore these heels, hm?" he grabs your ankle, leaving a sloppy kiss on your calf, "Wanted to make me bust in my fuckin' work jeans?"

You giggle, his stained hands leaving oil marks on your legs. The same fingers undoing the buttons on your dress with nimble finesse.

"I could just rip it but I like this on you," his mumbles, "Don't wanna ruin it."

You simply nod, wanting to say 'thank you,' or 'appreciate it', but your tongue is too big for you mouth. You feel stupid and faded, just wanting to feel his touch and hear the low roll of his voice. He unbuttoned until your lace enclaved chest was full exposed, eyes feasting on you laying on the table for him -- way better than dinner.

Eddie works quickly on his jeans, the stiff fabric being shoved hard down to his thighs, his boxers coming down just enough for his balls to hang down over the band before he lines himself up with your entrance.

He pushes in with ease, slick so intense that it had already started moving down your thighs, shining in the light. His face relaxes, head falling back while he gets a rhythm going hands finding the smallest part of your waist for leverage.

"Oh shit, baby," he grunts, head falling back forward, hair falling out of the elastic and crowding his face, "Fuckin' -- nnmff -- needed this."

You gasp at his pace. No matter how wet or how ready you were it was always just a little too big -- stretching you in just the right way. Even when he was loving you he was punishing you with the size of his cock -- a little reminder every time, pain always reaps pleasure.

His picks up one of your hands and brings it to his lips, kissing it gently, warm brown eyes meeting yours. You feel the warmth before you realize that your three fingers are in his mouth, soaking them in spit before guiding them to your clit.

"Show me," he moans, "Make yourself feel good for me."

"You're already -mm!- making me feel good," you smile, slowly rubbing circles over your clit. His eyes nearly get stuck rolling back in his head at the sight, biting his lip while he drives harder into you. Eddie grunts, bending at the waist and caging you in on the table, hands finding you hair.

"Kiss me," he breathes, his mouth hot and wet on yours. His thrusts quicken while he chases his orgasm, the feeling of your hand working between you making his cock twitch. Eddie's brows furrow while he deepens his kiss, groaning hard into your mouth when your tongue brushes his.

"So fuckin' good, sweet thing," he whispers against your lips, "You're so good."

His plush lips crash into yours again while he pulls your hand from between them, "Can feel you gettin' close, you close?"

You nod feverishly, the tight binding in your belly getting tighter with each thrust of his cock between your thighs. He pushes up, back to standing over you, a glob of spit sent falling between your legs onto your clit -- making you jolt. Eddie's thumb works like magic over your, your thighs twitching with the sensation of his rough but lubricated finger pad and the stretch of his cock pumping in and out of you.

"Oh you're gonna cum, huh?" he nods while he asks, and you nod to answer.

"Yeah, you gonna cum for me?" he mocks. His eyebrows raise while you bite your lip, hips moving back and forth to fuck back on him, "You gonna be a good girl and cum?"

"Y-YES, sir," you cry out, your pussy spasming over him, thighs snapping tight together over his wrist -- just making it tighter over his dick still fucking you relentlessly. He coaxes you through it, praising you over and over, "Oh, good girl. That's my girl. That's it. Love when you moan for me like that..."

"Fuck, FUCK, Ed, Eddie," you whimper while he continues.

"Almost th-there, angel," he grunts, fucking into you with fervor.

"W-wanna cum inside," he says, but you know he's asking for permission. You nod at him, breathy 'it's okay..s'kay..'s pouring out of your mouth as your second orgasm builds in your tummy.

"Yeah?" he asks, cocky grin building while he leans in again to press flush against you, "Want me to c-cum inside you?" "Make you my little housewife f-foreal?" he dips his head to your neck, sucking and biting until you bruise, "Get you knocked up and st-stuck here?"

"Yes, yes, Eddie -- wanna be your -- ah, shit, shit," you whine, the second orgasm comes on quicker and harder than the first, your nails digging into his tank top and exposed flesh.

"Gonna make you my pr-pretty fuckin' housewife -- fuck, oh fuck, shit," he groans in your ear, nipping at your earlobe hard enough that you yelp. You can feel the hot spurts of his seed filling you, it stings in a good way, warming you from the inside out -- biting at the stretched skin while it oozes out of you.

When Eddie comes to, he leans up on his forearms, pressing a kiss against your lips. His eyes meet yours, gentle and heavy lidded, "I love you."

"I love you, too," you smile, offering a second peck. The pain settles in on your thighs and ass, you almost forgot you'd been belted.

"S'starting to hurt, honey," you confess quietly.

"I know, m'sorry," he mumbles, he kisses your cheek, then your other cheek, your forehead, your nose, "You need help in the shower? I was gonna clean up in here."

"I'm okay," you smirk, "You've done way worse damage before."

He gets up, rolling his eyes playfully, "Don't tempt me."

You sit up slowly on the kitchen table, which had shifted so much it was almost entirely against fridge. After Eddie pulls up his boxers and jeans, he helps take off your heels and hoists you down so you don't have to slide off the edge.

"Be careful of the glass, please," he warns, setting you down on the ground. You tip toe to the bathroom, hearing him sigh as he gets to his knees to clean up -- your sweet little domestic boy.

"Hey, c'mere, before you go get cleaned up," he calls out. You pad back to the kitchenette, stopping just before the linoleum. From the floor he turns back to you, "What do you want on your pizza? I'm gonna put in an order when I'm done cleaning up."

"Just cheese for me is fine, but I'm not picky. Get whatever you want," you shrug.

"I'm getting anchovies," he says.

"Anything but anchovies," you say, annoyed.

"That's why you shouldn't say get whatever you want if that's not what you mean," he smiles, "Just saying."

"Why don't you do one cheese and one meat lovers since that's what we always get?" you suggest.

He considers it, for a minute, "I think I'm gonna get three pies babe, I'm fuckin' starving."

#sadist!eddie munson #sadist!eddie #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things au #eddie munson #stranger things fanfiction #dark!eddie munson #dark!eddie #dom eddie munson #dom!eddie munson #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x you smut

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mintsbubbletea · 3 months

Text

𝐊𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨 - 𝐌𝐲 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐩 𝐃𝐚𝐝

Word Count: 2,490

Contains: She/Her Pronouns, cursing, name calling, sadist, masochist, spiting, fingering, hair pulling, tears, orgasm denial, kissing, degradation, choking, exhibitionist (?), cum, praising, oblivious mother , p-in-v, unprotective sex Don't know if missed anything.

Proof Read and Edited

A/n: Reader is over 18!!! Bakugo is also aged up. I haven't written smut in a while so please bare with me.

At approximately midnight, the front door opening startled you from your bed, where you had been engrossed in using your mobile phone. Your stepfather, Bakugo, had returned home after a long day working as a hero, leaving you to your own devices in the house while your mother was away on a business trip. As you made your way downstairs, you noticed Bakugo sprawled out on the couch, his legs apart, clutching a beer in one hand and taking continuous sips from it. Exhausted from his day at work, his focus was fixed on the television, his tired eyes struggling to stay open. He groaned and reclined against the couch, taking another bitter sip from his beer.

As you descended the staircase intending to annoy him, you were taken aback to find him already indulging in his usual nightly ritual of drinking. "Beer? Really?" you exclaimed, unable to hide your disdain as you reached the bottom step. Bakugo's head snapped towards you upon hearing your voice, clearly startled by your presence. He grumbled, placing the beer on the coffee table and directing his focus towards me. "What on earth are you still doing awake, you little brat? Shouldn't you be fast asleep by now?" he inquired, his tone tinged with annoyance.

"Why the fuck do you care?" you snapped, storming off towards the kitchen. You could feel his gaze burning into your back. "What fuck did you just say" he demanded, placing his drink down forcefully. "You heard me, old man. Has your hearing gone to shit?" you hissed back. He followed you into the kitchen, his anger hot on your heels, and slammed his hand down on the counter. "Y/n, I won't tolerate this attitude," he said, attempting to be the mature one and reason with you, but you couldn't care less.

Ever since you and your mom moved in with Bakugo, you've had a major problem with his behavior. He constantly drinks beer, lounges on the couch, and never lifts a finger to help. You're always the one cleaning and cooking when your mom isn't around. And when she is, she takes over and cleans the entire house. She doesn't mind that Bakugo doesn't contribute because, according to her, he's the "man of the house" and deserves to relax after a hard day's work. It's infuriating because your mom works just as hard. So, in retaliation, you've been treating him with utter disrespect for months, all while pretending to be innocent in front of your mom.

Yeah, he may take care of you and occasionally treat you to meals, but that doesn't make up for the fact that you have to clean up after his friends when they come over and leave a mess of beer cans everywhere. You've reached your limit and want to put an end to it.

"Oh, did I hurt your feelings old man?" you taunted, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. Bakugo's irritation grew evident as you continued to provoke him. He straightened his posture, crossing his arms defiantly. "Don't think you can outsmart me, kid. I may be your stepfather, but I still have the responsibility to discipline you," he grumbled, his voice filled with a rough edge. Approaching you, he loomed over your smaller frame. "Hand over your phone and go to your room now."

With a defiant smirk, you mirrored his stance and crossed your arms. "You can't force me, you know. Just because you're screwing my mom doesn't automatically make you my dad," you teased, tilting your head playfully.

You defiantly smirked at him, causing his frustration to escalate. He took a step towards you, his imposing figure casting a shadow over you. "So, that's how it's gonna be, huh? You think you can treat me like shit?" he growled, his voice dripping with intensity. He reached out and firmly grasped your arm, not too forcefully but enough to make his point. "Listen up, you imbecile. You're not going to come out on top in this situation. Say whatever you want, but it'll come back to haunt you," he warned, his grip tightening slightly as a subtle threat.

You rolled your eyes, unimpressed by his display. "Oh, cry me a river," you scoffed. "What exactly do you think you can do?" Bakugo's eyes narrowed, annoyance flickering across his face. He tightened his hold on your arm, asserting his physical dominance. "Don't push me, you fool," he muttered, his voice low and menacing.

"Let go of me!" you snapped, attempting to break free from his grasp. "Ouch!" He leaned in closer, his face mere inches away from yours. "Am I too much for a weakling like you? Fine. But remember, I always come out on top," he whispered, his breath grazing your ear.

You stood frozen, feeling his breath on your skin. "Don't call me weak, you old hag," you retorted, refusing to back down.

Bakugo's eyes narrow even further, a spark of anger flashing in them as he hears your defiant words. He releases your arm, his hand balling into a fist at his side. "You want to challenge me, huh? Fine, brat. Get ready to learn your place," he growls. Without warning, he grabs you by the waist, forcefully pinning you against the wall. Your eyes widen as his face comes dangerously close to yours. "What do you think you're doing, idiot?" You snap. Bakugo's grip tightens on your waist, his knee pressing against your core. Unfortunately, you're only wearing an oversized shirt and panties, causing your shirt to ride up. "I'm doing what needs to be done, brat," he replies, his voice low and commanding. He leans in closer, his breath grazing your skin. "You want to challenge me? Do you want to play this game? Well, be careful what you wish for," he murmurs in a husky tone. His hand trails up your side, his touch firm and possessive. "I'll teach you how to respect your elders," he adds, his voice filled with a mix of dominance and desire.

"Don't touch me," you grit through your teeth before spitting in his face. His eyes widen in surprise as the spit lands on his cheek. His grip on your waist tightens even further, his knee pressing higher against your clothed area. He wipes the spit off his face with the back of his hand, his jaw clenched tightly. "You insolent brat," he snarls, his voice dripping with venom. In a swift, sudden motion, he grabs a handful of your hair, his grip painfully tight. "You think you can disrespect me like that? Think again," he growls, his tone filled with anger and dominance. You yelp in pain as you try to pry his hands off of you. "You're hurting me, you asshole!" you yell, tears welling up in your eyes.

Bakugo's grip on your hair tightens even more, his anger escalating as he hears your words. His piercing gaze locks onto yours, his voice a low rumble filled with a mix of frustration and dominance. "Good. Perhaps a little discomfort will serve as a reminder of your place," he declares, his words tinged with a hint of sadistic pleasure. "Remember, I'm the one who takes care of you. I'm the one who watches out for you. And I won't tolerate any disrespect," he asserts, his voice resonating with commanding authority. "Kiss my ass," you retorted, a tear streaming down your face from the forceful grip on your hair.

"Naughty girls like you need to be taught a lesson," he grumbles. Without warning, he pulls your panties to the side and forcefully inserts two fingers inside your aching pussy. "What the fuck!" you exclaim, pushing against his shoulders and squirming under his touch. He remains silent, holding you down as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you faster and faster, causing you to grow wet with desire. "Stop it, you asshole," you snap before he yanks your hair, tilting your head to the side and planting rough kisses on your exposed neck. "If you want me to stop, why are you grinding your hips against my fingers?" he smirks against your skin. You hadn't even realized that your hips were moving; you were so starved for touch that you would do anything for any form of contact.

"That doesn't mean I like it" you retorted, your voice laced with defiance as the pleasure surged through your body. Desperate to resist his advances, you clutched onto his shoulder, determined to deny him the satisfaction he sought. But deep down, you craved the sensation that awaited when he hit that sweet spot. Your breath hitched as your hips instinctively moved in sync with his skilled fingers. "Please, Bakugo, we can't," you pleaded, knowing it was wrong but unable to resist the intoxicating pleasure. "Do you want me to stop?" he growled in your ear, his fingers teasingly slow, causing you to moan in response. "Damn it," you gasped. "Are you sure you want me to stop?" he questioned, his voice dripping with dominance. "Your body tells a different story. Look at how helpless you are under my touch," he declared, his veiny hands gripping your neck, choking you, pinning you against the wall. Trembling, you whimpered, your desire for his touch finally overpowering your resistance.

"Please, don't stop. Keep going," you managed to utter. Bakugo smirked, crashing his lips onto yours, the eagerness consuming you as he fingered you with fervor, the wet sounds mingling with your moans. "That's what I thought, you slut," he murmured against your lips, sending shivers down your spine. Your walls clenched around his thick fingers, signaling your impending climax. Just as you were about to surrender to ecstasy, he abruptly withdrew his fingers. "N-no! Why would you do that?" you whined, your hips still rocking, craving the sensation of fullness. "Only good girls get to come, and you haven't been behaving, have you?" he taunted, wearing a smug smirk.

"I'm sorry! I promise to behave, just please let me cum," you pleaded, clutching onto his shirt. "Please," you pouted softly. "I'll be good," you said, tears welling up in your eyes, desperate to reach your climax. Bakugo chuckled and gave you a quick kiss, wiping away your tears. "Fine, but how about you cum on my dick instead?' he smirked. You eagerly nodded in agreement. "Please," you begged. Without hesitation, Bakugo bent you over the kitchen island and swiftly pulled down your drenched panties. As he pulled his pants down, his hard cock sprung out. He smirked as he stroked himself, taking in the sight of your bent-over form. "So desperate for my cock, huh" he chuckled, teasing your entrance with the tip. "I'm not in the mood for teasing, Katsuki. Just fuck me," you whined as you pressed yourself against him. And that's exactly what he did. Once you finished your little rant, he shoved his cock inside you, making you gasp and quickly shut up.

He started moving slowly at first, his hands gripping your hips as he gradually picked up speed. You gripped the counter, crying out with pleasure as his cock hit all the right spots and filled you perfectly. "Katsuki," you moaned as he started slamming into you, the sound of skin slapping filling the room along with your moans. "You like that, you slut?" he asked, grabbing your hair and pulling you back against his chest, admiring your face as you enjoyed being pounded. "Answer me," he growled, pulling your hair again. "I-I love it so much," you whimpered as his pace never once slowed. But just as you both heard the front door opening, he slowed down and whispered in your ear, "Stay quiet."

He continued to fuck your pussy behind the counter when your mom walked in. She enters the room, completely unaware of what's happening, and greets both of you with a smile. You try your best to maintain your composure, returning the smile. "Mom," you say, "You're back home early from your trip," leaning on the counter with Katsuki standing behind you. "Oh yeah, the trip got cut short. My boss suddenly got sick," she explains, placing her suitcase down. Gripping the counter tightly, Bakugo hits your sweet spot repeatedly, causing your legs to weaken and a soft whimper to escape your lips. "Oh, that's unfortunate," you respond, earning a tight squeeze from him, silently urging you to control yourself. "Yeah, we had three days left, but things happen," she laughs, removing her blazer. "What are you two doing up? I thought you'd both be sleeping at this hour."

"O-oh, I couldn't sleep. I had too much caffeine before bedtime," you laugh, trying to hide your moan. "I've told her countless times to cut back on caffeine, and now she's wide awake," Bakugo chuckles as he continues to pleasure you. "You need to work on that, Y/n. It's not good for you," your mom advises before heading towards the stairs. "Well, I'm tired. I'm going to bed. Don't stay up too late," she smiles. "Don't worry, we won't," Bakugo assures her, leaving you unable to utter a word as you teeter on the brink of orgasm.

"Goodnight," she murmured before retreating to her room. Bakugo waited until he heard the door close before increasing his pace, his hips snapping against yours, causing your ass to jiggle with each thrust. You couldn't hold back anymore, letting out a moan as tears sprang to your eyes from trying to suppress your pleasure in front of your mother.

"Such a good girl," he growled, praising you. "You behaved so well for me," he chuckled as he relentlessly pounded into you. You whimpered and gripped onto the counter, moaning loudly. 'You can cum, baby. You deserve it," he encouraged, and with his words, your body shook with ecstasy. As Bakugo continued to fuck you, he finally pulled out and came all over your ass. You rested your upper body on the counter, completely drained and your legs about to give out.

He grabbed a napkin and gently cleaned you up, his touch soothing against your sensitive skin. "Want… more?" you managed to utter, looking up at him with pleading eyes. "More?" he asked, a surprised smirk playing on his lips. "You think you can handle it?" You nodded eagerly, your desire evident. "Yes, please. I need you inside me," you whimpered, slowly rising to your feet.

"Fine. But only because you were well-behaved,'" he chuckles before scooping you up and carrying you to the couch. He sets you down on your back and climbs on top of you. He gazes down at your exhausted form as you grind your hips, rubbing your wet pussy against his hard cock. "Fuck," he growls before kissing you deeply, his hands finding their way to your throbbing center. "Don't come crying to me tomorrow about being tired," he teases. You grin against his lips. "I won't. Now just fuck me already."

#mha fanfiction #mha x reader #mha #my hero academia #bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #bnha bakugou #katsuki bakugo mha #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo smut #katsuki bakugo #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha x reader #step dad bakugo #step dad mha #bakugo x y/n #mintsbubbletea

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joshs-big-toe · 4 months

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I Hate That I Love You

a/n: hey my loves, this fanfic that i wrote is definitely a gift because of my lack of writing. i tried something new and wrote this one in first person POV, so let me know if you like that. i do want to give a warning up front, this contains spoilers for the beekeeper movie as well as an ending that made my proofreader, @peetas-nose, say "what the fuck". derek danforth will never get a happy ending.

edit: I LOVE YALL BUT I WARNED YOU IT WOULD BE SAD

CW: heavy smut, p in v, fem!reader, aggressive sex, mentions of drinking and drug use(cocaine), oral sex(fem!receiving), depressing ending, SPOILERS

word count: 3844

PRESENT DAY

Derek Danforth. Momma's boy. Rich kid. 28 year old man-child. Let me be clear, Derek wasn't always this way. He was kind once upon a time. He was always rich, don’t get me wrong, but god when his mother was campaigning, he turned into the biggest asshole you could imagine. When he changed is when I broke up with him. We were 24 when I ended things between us. Though, things never ended between us truly. I was tired of the selfish person he had become. But then again, I use him for things too. He has money, I get sex, it's a win-win situation. This sounds like a prostitute situation, it’s not. He doesn't pay me, not necessarily, but my life has never been difficult since our agreement. I make him look good, he gives me benefits. I’m getting ahead of myself, though. Let me rewind to four years ago.

FOUR YEARS AGO

I sat down on the couch, running my hands down my face before I looked up at him. “Fuck, Derek, you’re not the same person I met! What happened to you?” Derek paced in front of me. He was manhandling a glass of whisky. I honestly was afraid he was going to spill it.

“Y/N, you know I’m doing this for my mom!” His words were slurred. He had started drinking a few months prior when his mom first started talking about running for President. President, ha, fucking insane, right? Not to Derek and not to his mom. I hated it the moment he picked up his first glass, flipping through websites, spending hours up all night on the phone. He did some shit that I’m still in the dark about. I shot up from the couch, snatching the glass out of his hand. His eyes bore into mine, sending a chill up my spine. “Give it back, y/n.”

“Derek, your moms life has become your life. What are you doing with your money? Why are you doing this, this isn’t who you are!” He set his jaw, taking a step forward toward me.

“Give it here.” His voice was almost too calm at this point. I loosened my grip on the glass, allowing it to fall to the ground and shatter on impact. “Fucking hell, are you fucking serious right now?”

“Oops,” I shrugged, sitting back on the couch. My arm rested on the arm rest and I crossed one leg over the other. “Get your head out of your ass or you lose me, Derek. Thats how this is going to be.” I motioned toward him, studying his blazer and whatever-the-fuck expensive shoes he was wearing. “This… This is not who you are, or were, Derek.”

“I’m doing all this shit for her, not me, don’t you get that?”

“I call bullshit on that.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said I call bullshit.” He started pacing, running his hands through his hair. I followed him with my eyes, studying his movements, the crunch from the broken glass under his shoes. He paused in front of me, looking down at me.

“I am working my ass off, getting more money than you could ever comprehend for the sake of her. You don’t fucking understand the fucking stress I’m fucking under!” I was taken back. More money than I could ever comprehend. Ouch. I stand up and take a step toward him, our noses almost touching. I could smell the whisky on his breath and see the frustration and anger in his eyes.

“I can’t do this, Derek. I can’t be with, whoever this is, because it’s not the person I fell in love with.” I ran my hand through my hair as I began to walk away.

“Y/N, help me with this!” He was almost shouting. I shook my head, but before I could get too far, Derek grabbed my wrist and pulled me into his arms, pushing his lips against mine. I fucking hated the taste of whisky, and I hated how I did not want to break away from the kiss. My brain immediately became foggy with arousal. Something about the way his lips moved against mine sent a tremor of heat down in my core. His hand trailed up my arm and to the back of my neck, holding me against him. My mouth gapped, allowing him to slip his tongue into my mouth. Our mouths worked perfectly with each other, drawing me deeper into the kiss. I finally somewhat came to my senses, pulling away briefly, him still attacking my lips as I spoke.

“We,” his lips connected to mine. “Fuck, we’re still done after this.”

“Yeah,” I leaned in, desperately connecting my lips to his again making him gap his sentence. “Okay fine, just shut up.” Shut up I did. As much as I hated who he had become, or more accurately stated, who he was becoming, I couldn’t deny sex. He was insanely good at it, even though he seemed almost careless. And for some reason, his carelessness was why it was so intoxicating. Derek groaned, shoving me down onto the couch, pushing the breath out of me. He moved quick, sliding my shirt and jeans off of me, leaving in nothing but my bra and panties. He bit his lower lip before leaning down to attach his lips to mine again. I could feel him fumbling with his belt before throwing it to the ground, momentarily breaking our kiss to slide out of his dress pants and boxers. His cock sprung out leaving nothing to the imagination. Derek was only slightly above average, but fuck he knew how to work his body with mine. I looked at him, noticing a bead of precum forming at the tip, turning me on that much more. He pulled my panties down to my ankles before turning me onto my stomach, pulling my ass into the air. As he pulled my hair back, I heard him spit into his hand before the wet sounds of him stroking his own cock filled the room. I was getting impatient. I decided to push my ass against him, however I earned myself a hair pull. “We may be done after this,” he huffed, “but we can keep having fun, yeah?” He sighed out as he slowly pushed into me. “I can’t get enough of this fucking pussy, you understand that?” I tried to nod, but the grip on my hair was too tight. I opened my mouth to speak, however as i tried he began pulling in and out of me and grabbing at my ass to roughly pull me onto him. A moan escaped my lips instead of words. “What.” he growled out, not stopping his movements. If anything, it made him go faster. “Did I fuck the words out of your mouth already?” His breathing picked up as he continued his pace. His nails dragged into my ass, making me whine in a pleasured pain.

“D-Derek, fuck,” I struggled to answer him. I felt one hand reach around me and push a finger against my clit. Derek groaned, the sound of skin slapping overpowering any other sound that was in the room. His used his finger to circle my clit. I felt him plant soft kisses on my back as he worked at the bundle of nerves. He released my hair and grabbed my ass again and began to push and pull me off of him again.

“Struggling to use your words, y/n? Come on baby, use those words. Even if we aren’t together, you'll still let me use you right?” I could feel his breath on my neck. I took a deep breath, trying to ignore the pleasure coursing through my body.

“W-what~ aha fuck- whats in it f-for me?” I managed out, trying to stifle my moans. He was pounding into me at this point, his finger still pressing against my clit. I was struggling to keep it together. There was a heat rising up in my lower belly as I felt my orgasm approaching. “F-fucking hell, Derek.”

“Whats in it for you?” His voice was low and his movements were erratic. He was close too. “A life of p-pleasure- fuck.. No more struggling. B-benefits.” I tipped over the edge, my orgasm spreading through my body as I clenched around him. I buried my face into the cushion of the couch, crying out in the pleasure of the orgasm ripping through me. His hands felt their way to my hips, his breathing ragged as i felt him twitch before filling me up with his cum. He pulled out, turning me over onto my back, watching me as I caught my breath. “So,” he panted. “Your answer?”

“You,” I paused to take a breath. “I’m here for whatever you need,” I began. “But I get a peaceful life in return.” He grabbed my clothes, throwing them onto me before getting his own and putting them on. After we both were dressed, he looked down at me and held out his hand.

“You have yourself a deal.” With that, the fate between us was sealed in a handshake.

PRESENT DAY

I regretted the agreement the moment my hand touched his for the handshake. I wish I could hate Derek more, but part of me still very much loves him. The consistent sex over the next four years definitely didn’t help. Derek and I turned 28 a few months ago. He kept changing, he turned to drugs and alcohol, his fashion sense got so much worse and he decided to get these bullshit frosted tips. And I still couldn’t help but look at him and wonder what we could’ve been if he was normal. Once again, I found myself at one of his parties. I was sitting on his lap with my legs crossed while his hand rested on my thigh. On the table next to him sat a glass of whisky and a small vial of white powder, I assume cocaine. For this party, he had me dress in this form-fitting short red dress that ruffled at the end. I draped around him, putting on a show for all his little rich-boy friends.

“You guys have any idea how much we made with that one woman alone?” Derek chimed in, his smile wide as he spoke. I smiled, looking over at Garnett as he raised his glass into the air.

“Wish I could’ve seen the look on her face as she saw that,” He paused before raising his voice. He shot his arms into the air, squeezing his eyes shut and shouting out in victory. “3.7 MILLION DOLLARS!!” All of Derek’s friends’ voices started ringing together, creating a dissonance of voices and shouts. I hated it here. I couldn’t stand the smell of cigarette smoke and the drunk men trying to poke and prod at me everywhere. Derek could see the discomfort on my face, or maybe feel it in the rigidity of my body draped over him. I feel his hand run up my thigh, the tips of his fingers resting under the hem of my dress. I look down at him, his hair looking fried and his stupid green suit he was wearing. I grimaced. He glanced in my direction, pulling my head down to where my ear met his lips.

“Liven up, y/n, we have an agreement.” He mumbled, the heat of his breath tickling my neck.

“Oh-ho-ho,” Garnett exclaimed. “Derek wants some from his bitch!” I winced but kept a smile, even choking out a little laugh.

“Watch it, Garnett, remember your place.” Derek’s tone was serious. Garnett raised his hands in surrender.

“My bad, my bad. I'm going to take the boys and go talk about the new branch you’re building.” Garnett stood up, his posse following close behind, giving Derek shoulder punches and shakes as they made their way out. The door slammed shut behind him, cueing me to get off of Derek and make my way to the couch. I kicked off my heels and leaned my head back against the head of the couch groaning, my eyes screwing shut.

“You’ve been here for an hour, are you seriously acting like that right now?”

“I don’t want to hear it from you. I wore what you wanted me to, did my makeup the way you wanted me to, god forbid I’m tired of playing pretend with these jackass friends of yours.” I looked over to him. He was laid back in his chair, head back, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“If you’re done, I need you to tell me. I have plenty of other girls who would fight to be in the position you’re in.” His eyes met mine, a mocking smile was on his lips. I rolled my eyes and looked away, unable to hide the grin that threatened the corners of my mouth. His smile became more sincere. “That’s my girl.”

“Still not yours, Derek.”

“You are while you’re here.” He stood up and took a sip of his whisky before grabbing the vial and sauntering over to me. “You don’t understand how fucking hot you look right now.” He knelt down to the ground in front of my knees, gently spreading them apart before getting in between them. “You’re going to stay still for me, right?”

“Derek, what are you doing?” He held the small vial up and shook it in front of my face. “And you plan to…”

“Just stay fucking still.” I watched him closely, eyeing his every movement. He fumbled around his suit pockets, finding a $50 and handing it to me. “Pull your dress up, then roll that, yeah?” His face was flushed as he watched me push my dress further up my thighs, exposing my panties in full. He bit his lower lip as he looked at me, an obvious wet spot from my own arousal seeping through already. His eyes met mine, a grin plastering his face. “I love the effect I have on you, y/n.” I felt my face heat as I rolled the bill for him, knowing what he was going to do, but taken by surprise with how he did it. Derek broke eye contact first, taking the vial and unscrewing the lid. He brought it over to my thigh and carefully began pouring a line of cocaine on me. I wanted to shift, to mess him up just to see how I would react, but I was infatuated with what he was doing. Fuck I hate that he does this. I couldn’t stop him. He held his hand out, telling me he wanted the rolled up bill from me. I complied, wordlessly placing it between his thumb and pointer finger. “Good girl,” he mumbled. He turned, looking at my other thigh, quickly pouring out another small line across me. “Better stay still, understand me?” I was afraid to move. “Words, you know better.”

“Yes, Derek. Perfectly still.” He smiled. He brought the bill up to his nose, plugging one side and lowering himself close to my thigh. I tensed as he sniffed up the powder. He groaned, rubbing his nose before turning to the other thigh and doing the same thing but on the opposite side of his nose.

“Fuck,” he mumbled as he pinched his nose and sniffed again. “You still have some..” Before I could comprehend what he meant, he ran his tongue up my thigh where the line was, but did not stop. He traced the top hem of my panties until he reached the other thigh, dragging his tongue down my thigh picking up any residue from the powder that may have been left over. His eyes connected with mine, both of our faces flushed.

“The door locks on its own, right?” I mumbled, my arousal taking control of me. That was the hottest fucking shit I have ever seen in my fucking life. He nodded, no words coming from him as the tips of his fingers dragged slowly up my thighs, hooking around my panties and sliding them down my thighs and pulling them off of me. He met my eyes again as he brought them up to his mouth, licking my arousal off of them before discarding them to the side. Fuck that made my stomach flip. His pupils were already blown, not looking away from me as he pulled me down the couch until my ass was barely on it. I sigh as he maintains contact, leaning down and planting a kiss on my pubic bone.

“Such a perfect little pussy,” he mumbled onto me. The movement of his lips against me made my body jolt. “All for me, too. Fuck,” he pressed his tongue against my clit, moving his head up and down, my eyes following his. He groaned onto me as I wrapped my legs around his shoulders. My hands found their way into his hair making him nip at me in response. “Hands to yourself,” He growled, shoving his tongue into me. His movements became faster and more erratic and his hands squeezed at my thighs. I groaned, trying to focus on him and his movements, but the pleasure that was spreading through me was almost too much. His nose pushed against my clit as he tongue-fucked me, the heat building within me rapidly. My body begged for release as he pulled away, denying me, before standing up and grabbing my jaw and spitting in my mouth. “The things you fucking do to me even after all these fucking years. God I can’t believe I ever let you leave.” His words took me by surprise, but he took me into a needy, heated kiss before I had the chance to respond. His tongue worked its way into my mouth, making the kiss deeper. I reached up toward his pants and began unbuttoning them and waited for him to stop me. If anything, he gave me more access to slide them down. I began to palm him through his boxers, a groan escaping into my mouth. “T-take them off,” he growled before immediately attaching his lips to mine again. I obliged, not waiting before dropping his boxers to the ground. He wasted no time before stepping out of them. My hand connected to his cock, slowly pumping it. He stifled a moan. “Fuck I love the way you fucking touch me. Like nobody else in the fucking world. You drive me insane, y/n.” He pushed me back on the couch as he removed his blazer, throwing it off to the side somewhere in the room. I began to turn onto my stomach but he stopped me.

“I thought-”

“Just shut the fuck up, will you? You think too much sometimes.” He grabbed one of my legs and draped it over his shoulder. His eyes met mine, focusing on my face as he slowly pushed himself into me. Just the tip. I didn’t look away despite every bone in my body telling me to. He started moving his tip in and out of me, my hands grabbing at his shirt to try and get him to fully push in. I am desperate, and with desperation comes begging, and with begging, I come apart.

“Fucking hell, Derek please just-” before I could finish my thought, he pushed himself into me. He grabbed my hips and pulled me onto him, filling me up completely. I threw my head back and bit my lip to stifle the moans that were threatening to escape. There was still a party going on outside, afterall. He didn't hesitate before grabbing my jaw, making me look at him.

“I love seeing your face as you come apart. The face you make when I make you so fucking needy. Fucking hell.” He pulled out of me before aggressively thrusting himself back in. He continued at this pace, forcing me to look at him. “I fucking love everything about you, y/n.” My eyes widened. He’s just high, he doesn't know what he’s talking about right now, right? I felt him twitch inside me telling that he was close. He brought his free hand down to my clit, pushing his thumb against it throwing me over the edge into an orgasm. I whined and he groaned as I clenched around him, his body convulsing as he reached his climax, filling me up. He allowed his body to fall on top of mine and rested his head on my shoulder as he caught his breath. We stayed there for a moment before he got up and put his blazer and slid up his pants. He threw his boxers at me and watched me wipe myself clean.

“Where’s my underwear?” He shrugged, lazily checking the ground around the couch. I groan and throw his boxers at him. He made a face at me, dodging them.

“Gross, you could’ve made a mess on my jacket.” I rolled my eyes and pulled my dress back down, leaning back on the couch.

“You said something earlier.”

“Don’t.”

“Did you mean it?” He was pacing again. All he seemed to do was pace.

“You and I are not… We fucking can’t, okay? This won’t be spoken about again, do you fucking understand that?” Without a word, I grabbed my heels off the ground, stood up and began my trek out of the room. I felt his eyes burning into me as I approached the door, turning to face him as I placed my hand on the handle.

“Goodbye, Derek.”

3 MONTHS LATER

The day I found out Derek was dead was probably the hardest day of my life. I knew what he was doing, though I didn’t know the extent of how bad it was. I knew he was investing in companies and owned call centers. I thought they were authentic tech support centers. In actuality, he was scamming older people out of money. Billions of dollars. The comments his “friends” made made sense now. I would have stopped him. I could have stopped him if I had just known. He was murdered in the crossfire of some vengeful man in a group called the Beekeepers. Shot him in the head in front of his own mother.

—--------

I sighed as I sat down on the fresh patch of grass where he was laid to rest. I placed a flower on it. The stone itself had been defiled. I was here once a week to try and keep it in good, well, okay shape. “You are a fucking idiot, Derek Danforth. You should've just…” A tear slipped down my cheek. “Why couldn’t you have just stayed the same. I would’ve fucking married you, dumbass!” My hand hit the ground. I cried silently for who knows how long before I decided to get up. I hesitated, dusting my jeans off looking down at him. “I love you.” I mumbled before walking away, trying to carry on with my life like I never had him to begin with.

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nicolesainz · 5 months

Text

Darling (JB 22)

Jenson Button x f!reader (Mark Webbers Daughter)

A/N: Ya’ll can blame the Brawn Doc (which btw was great, go check it out)

Summary: A little visit to your dad’s old friend after the Goodwill festival wouldn’t hurt,right?

Warnings: minors dni, +18, suggestive smut, edging, fingering, p! in v!, age gap (reader is 22)

“Hey Jense, would you mind keeping an eye on her? Missus and I will fly back to Australia but she’s staying here for a friend’s party”

My father would’ve never let me stay in a hotel. It had to be Jenson. Out of all his friends, all the people in the fucking UK, it had to be him.

And reminded that I’m 22. Not underage. And I can legally drink, thank you very much.

“Of course mate. I have a spare room she can use. I’ll barely be home this weekend.” It was the British Grand Prix and he is a presenter for Sky Sports, hence why he won’t be around.

To be fair, I only watch the post race show just to admire him. But my dad doesn’t need to know that, or Jenson himself. He doesn’t have to know how handsome he is or how smart he sounds given his knowledge in Formula One.

What’s more attractive than that?

And the fact that I have secret screenshots of his shots in my phone, but again, no one needs to know.

“Let me get her luggage full of god knows what type of dresses. I don’t even know when she bought them!”

"I hope you know how old I am, dad" I roll my eyes at his comment as Jenson lets out a small giggle, earning a death glare from my dad.

"Before she leaves the house, please make sure to see what she's wearing. And if there are any boys in sight." my dad warns him, as if I am going to enroll myself in the army and fight the enemy, which to him, would've been more preferable compared to a party.

"Got it. We definitely know that you think she's 17" Jenson replies and my mother laughs along, as I try not to burst out.

"If you side with Y/N, I will break your Porche." My dad's voice raise and I glance at Jenson who has a look plastered on his face as if he was offended and scared by the threat.

"I have kids myself, I think she's going to be safe with me. Come on Mark! I was the only driver you never crashed with, kinda." He takes the luggage away from my mother's hands and waves them goodbye as I go and hug them.

"Take care kiddo and if you need anything, im a call away. Also if you want to go to the paddock, the passes are under my name" he kisses my head after having me squeezed in a tight hug.

"Y-yes dad, I know. Now please let me go because I cant breathe."

"Sorry" he sets me free and I join Jenson's side. God he's tall and broad.

"Alright now, shall we?" he looks down at me and I nod, unable to utter a single word, even though I've know him my whole life.

The boys in my university were dying to hear stories with the senior formula one drivers, coming from a daughter of one. It's a nice feeling to narrate all the success and glory of this sport.

"Seriously though, your bag is very light. Are you even carrying anything in here?" Jenson asks, weighing up and down my luggage, flexing his muscles as I try not to drool all over the place.

"Only necessities. Dresses, shoes, makeup, few outfits for the race and condoms." the last one quite shocked him but also was a way of teasing him, given my major crush.

"You have condoms, yet I didn't hear you say panties"

"Won't be needing any"

"And why is that, may I ask?"

"Cause I like to be free. More access and more fun" I wink at him and I stare at his lips, a smirk is growing as each word is leaving mine.

"So you are telling me, that right now, underneath this short but nonetheless breathtaking dress, no panties are worn?"

I get closer to him and whisper softly in his ear:

"Wanna see for yourself?"

Honestly, don't ask me where I found this much confidence and especially with someone twice my age. And a friend of my dad's.

"Behave yourself darling" he coughs lightly to clear his throat and grabs me by the waist, so my dress doesn't float from the summer breeze.

"And what if I don't want you, Mr. Button?"

"Then you'll wish you had never said that" he growls and immediately opens me the door to his McLaren.

When he gets in the drivers seat, he wastes no time and gets on the road instantly. During the ride, there's a comfortable silence filling the atmosphere, until the air coming out of Jenson's window pulls up my dress and his hand quickly falls on my thigh, holding it down once more.

Jenson decides to roll up his window but his hand remains on my thigh and this time, is holding it firmly and starts caressing it from the inside.

Soft sighs leave my mouth, but controlling them is inevitable when his touch was all I have been craving since I turned 18. His foot hits the gas harder, speeding and driving in between the other slower cars. He reminds me of the Jenson back in his Brawn days and I can feel myself pooling just at the thought.

It was the very right time when his hand cupped my bare pussy, feeling the wetness caused by barely a thought of him. The slight touch of his fingers on my trembling self has my knees going paralyzed. I feel like crying from pleasure and yet I don't even know if he's doing that on purpose to embarrass me or if he's actually enjoying it too.

"Oh baby, you're definitely not behaving yourself" he says as his index finger draws circles around my clit. My legs are clenching his hand inside me as the other one holds the steering wheel, looking at his knuckles that have turned white.

"Jenson" I breathe out and moan simultaneously as he starts pumping two fingers inside me fiercely, letting myself to his mercy and unable to react.

"This behavior will have consequences young lady. I warned you" he lets a soft kiss on the crock of my neck and feeling his beard scratching it, I go absolutely insane.

"Then punish me sir" I blurt out without thinking and Jenson drives in seconds at the spot in front of his house, stops the car and places me on top of his lap with just one hand.

Jenson's lips crash into mine without wasting a second as his fingers play with my uncontrollably wet pussy. The feeling of moaning is surely necessary and I don't hold back. My tongue dances with his and the kiss gets deeper like his fingers, hitting perfectly my soft spot.

"You are going to be the death of me" Jenson says as his mouth falls on my neck, sucking it off like there's no tomorrow. My hands try to unbuckle his belt and eventually make it to the part where I can feel his erection growing. It's true what they say, older men do it better.

In other instances I would have been furious, but Jenson ripping my dress, just so he can have better access at my breasts is incredibly hot. I don't care that I am left vulnerable at his sight. At this I was pleading it.

My breast hurt from his kisses and I know in a few hours small red dickies will be covering the surface. My fingers decide to trace the shape of his thick cock but I can tell he wants to feel me. I have teased him and he me, for way too long.

"If you keep being naughty I won't let you cum, dear" a groan escapes his body as I take his length in my hands and caress the veins that have popped out.

"Then I want you to fill me up with your cum" I take him by surprise and I can sense his heartbeat raising from worry. He regards me as something innocent, precious and fragile. Which I am. But I feel ready and I am.

"Are you sure? I mean, have you? Uh? Had sex before?"

"I-uh-well, no. But-"

"Baby we can't do it here. You don't deserve to have your first time on a car. You deserve to be worshipped."

Jenson's words make me blush and my heart was flattering as if I was a fifteen years old again, simply watching him race and get multiple podiums.

He looks around and opens the door of his house and then quickly rushes with me inside and shuts it with such force, my legs started trembling.

Suddenly, he picks me up and carries me all the way to his bedroom. A dark room filled with some of his most iconic trophies and with his smell that has been covering my entire body since the moment I entered his car.

He turns on the soft baby lights on the bedrest and takes a look at my flushed self, covered with hickies he's gifted me. His eyes scan me from head to toe as if he's about to feast.

"I want you to tell me to stop whenever you feel uncomfortable in any way." He kisses me softly and I nod my head, knowing that he would never hurt anyone.

Jenson stands up and with his strong arms parts my legs so he can have a clear vision of my already swollen womanhood. My breast are half showing from inside my bra and my lips are bitten to the core. I am a mess but he seems to like it.

He removes his shirt in quick motions revealing his god like crafted body with the hints of dark ink covering his lower v and shoulder. I had never seen them before and I am was very pleased with what was in front of my eyes.

It doesn't take him too long to strip off his trousers and be left with simply his boxers that were trying to hold in his hardened cock and my patience as well. They were giving me a preview of what was about to happen.

As Jenson lowered his body his hands were hoisting down his boxers, revealing himself and it wasn't just my mouth that was drooling but also my pussy.

His hands now were on the insides of my thighs, holding them fiercely, whilst mine were hanging around his neck. I felt like my heart was about t burst out of my chest.

"Are you ready baby?"

I was at loss for words so I gave him a final kiss for reassurance that he could continue.

In slow motions, he lowered even more and started inserting himself inside me, pumping slowly as I was trying to get used to his size. My cries were out of control as Jenson was deepening himself and my pussy was stretched to its limits.

"Jesus, you're clenching me so well darling" he breathed out and I tried to open my legs wider for his pleasure. Jenson was panting on the hem of my neck and upping the pace of his thrusts.

"Dear lord this feels so good" It feels better than good. As if I am in the seventh heaven. I don't think any man will ever make me experience this. And I don't think I want to either.

"Say that again" he demands with a harder thrust, hitting my G-spot, earning the biggest moan of the night, echoing at the entire house.

"You make me feel so damn good Jenson" I gulp hard as I try to catch my breath and scratch his back from the pain that this gives me.

"And I shall be the only one darling" he hoists me up and removes my bra with a single movement, freeing my breasts and enjoying the sight, as they are bouncing up and down along with the trusts.

"Only you Jenson" I scream his name as loud as I can and his chest fills with pride as I am reaching my height.

"Cum sweetheart. Let go" I can't hold it in much longer and I cum all over his cock. He doesn't remove himself from inside me and I don't want to. This felt so right even though for some it's very wrong.

"That was, perfect" I say in a whispering manner as I am unable to speak louder. I am so wasted but full of thrill.

"You deserve it. You deserve to be treated like that dear"

#jenson button #jenson button x reader #jenson button x you #fanfic writing #f1 drivers

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inkskinned · 1 year

Text

you know, the light that fades at the end of Goncharov isn't light.

i am not a very good person to talk to about movies. i haven't seen most of the "official" american canon - jaws, psycho, citizen kane. i have seen sharknado, though. like so much in my childhood, what i knew was a little jar on a long shelf of gallons; my world was a catholic desert in new england weather.

my father had gotten his snout up about something; so we had to watch it. he was mad we hadn't seen it, the way people are going to be mad i haven't seen those three up i named there, as if i me having-not-seen-the-movie was because i was making some kind of political statement or argument. i just haven't seen them yet, i have no opinion about it. i'll eventually get around to it, god be willing.

during that time, i was doing bad in school and worse in taking care of my body. i sat on the floor on this green pillow, one of the ones my dog eventually tears up. my dad typed g-o-n into the DVR with that slow methodical passion, the remote tilted so the "rays" or whatever would somehow find the ever-smaller input.

he was excited. "you need to understand the light." he didn't look at me while he did it, focused.

"are you spelling gonorrhea." my brother, the eldest, was 17 in this memory. he was sitting on the chair in the corner, playing a game i can't remember the name of. (starfleet? star invaders? it was online, i know that. lots of clicking.)

my dad is used to this. we talk over each other all the time. "when they made it, scorsese wanted this specific hue over everything." my father looks over his shoulder at me, but i'm on the floor, stretching. i don't have a smart phone yet. i'm just watching with the anxious-restless feeling we all get when your father is painstakingly typing something into a virtual keyboard at an eighth of the speed you could have managed. "you'd like this, raquel. what color do you think he wanted?"

my mom comes in from the kitchen. "do we want salt or butter on the popcorn?" she has a handful she pops into her mouth. "wait for your sister to come upstairs. she'll be mad if she misses a part."

"salt," i say, while my brother says "butter."

"spruce." my dad is undeterred. he finally clicks the v, and then navigates over the red tiles to enter. "Spruce."

"okay?" i like dark green too. to be honest, i have no idea who Scorsese is or why he is important. (this is, by the way, still true.)

"here's the thing." my father doesn't actually click the "enter." he just looks at me, adjusting his glasses. "it doesn't exist."

okay. he's right. i do like this. i squint up at him, the signal to go on.

"it came to him in a dream. it's not a real color." my brother monotones, flat. he's heard this story before, and he's 17.

"i still say it's green," my mother says. she comes in holding the salt-and-buttered popcorn, fluffy in an orange bowl. "he just never painted a house, is all."

"it's a candle smell," i say.

"a tree." i don't know when my little sister came upstairs. she's braiding her hair, frowning. "i thought we were going to watch psych."

"it's old movie night," my mother answers. there's something there, in the cant of her smile, which i won't understand until i am much older. if you are over 25, you know what i saw. my mother, seeing her family settle like tired birds around a movie screen, for the moment placid, not-fighting. none of the children are happy about the selection - why would we be?

"Scorsese says it's not green." my father finally clicks rent for 2.99. "he was looking for this specific color, the one from his dreams. the color he had been told was called spruce, through someone in the dream." he looks to me again, his poet. "you know how dreams always feel... different. when you look back on them in your memories, they don't color in all the way. and he wanted that dream tinge."

the memories of my dreams are covered in colored static. sometimes i nightmare in black and white. i did not share this information, thinking it was too private. (forgive me. i was 14. everything was too-private for me.)

"a regular hitchcock," my mom mutters. we don't know, yet, not really, about what hitchcock did.

"he revolutionized the lighting industry. raquel, you have to look for the light in this thing. it's only in a few frames per scene. he didn't want it to be overwhelming."

"he fired like 10 people while he was doing it." my brother doesn't look up from his screen, clicking feverishly. "in order to get the color, he had to develop a software to switch lighting past human speed." he sends a glance towards the TV, kind of relenting. "it was cool, actually. he didn't actually light the room with that speed, he used one set of colors on the set and then another set specifically over the film. we're basically seeing two films: one that has the regular lighting, and then just this lighting track playing on top."

"like a sound list - ah, what's that called?" my father's remote hovers over play. i am trying to figure out what color i think spruce is going to be. "soundtrack," he amends. "are we all ready?"

"i still don't think it's real," my mother says. "i think he made it up for PR." my mother is good at colors. my mother would be right about that kind of thing.

"hon, he spent thousands of dollars on this." my father isn't angry, for once, he's smiling. "i'm telling you, it happens."

she shrugs. "i'll believe it when i see it."

we are not ready. we have to each find places to sit. i've been lying about how bad my eyesight is getting, so i keep my seat on the floor, close to the television. my mother, father, and sister take the couch. i make sure i am within reaching distance of the popcorn. my brother even kind-of closes his monstrosity of a laptop. then my mother has to use the bathroom, so we all do, so we won't have to pause later. then my sister remembers her homework, so i get mine too, spreading it uselessly in front of me. i slide open my verizon sidekick keyboard phone to text Dean who the fuck is scorkayze? [sic] and then we are ready.

my mom falls asleep by the end of the first 15 minutes. my father misses most of it, since he's already seen it, going downstairs to play World Civ instead. my sister doesn't get it, so she ends up at the dining room table, doing homework instead. my brother goes back to the video game.

i stare really, really, really hard at the film, trying to figure out where the spruce happens. a few frames per scene.

i don't like the film. like most movies i saw at the time, i found it boring. i had undiagnosed adhd. i spend most of my time stretching and texting and not-doing my homework. again, i'm sorry - i was 14.

when the "gun" finally goes off - if you've seen the movie, you know the scene, and i won't spoil it here for other readers - i looked back over my shoulder towards my family. all of us, quiet in our own little seats. satellites. did i want this memory to be different? that i would turn and see my family, happily crowded chickadees, our wings brushing? or is this just the real-life, the type of love where we are not nesting birds, but foxes. prowling the edges of our comfort with our jaws open. snapping at the shadows, wishing for the closeness we don't allow ourselves to get. tomorrow we will watch psych. this is the last year of my life that all of us will live under the same roof. my brother goes off to college, and my sister and i follow suit. it is the last year my grades don't matter. it is my sister's first year of middle school. it is 2007; and in 2008, in the recession, we will no longer be able to afford to turn on the heat.

behind me, on the television, the light was fading.

sometimes, when i think back to it, shifting through the memory: it appears out of the thin air. a frame of spruce. it's never around the movie. my father's hands on the remote. my brother's low voice. the sound of my sister walking up the stairs. the popcorn smell hanging in the air. for a moment, the sense - everything is easy. and you know? i think i see it, mr. scorsese.

#how far do we go for a meme?#haha :)#what if i just write about the death of childhood by accident #this was supposed to be 3 paragraphs but i just finished disco elysium #so i am too full up on words #ps most of this is true #i still haven't seen those movies lmafo

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tiyoin · 19 days

Note

Taking a step back from twisted singer reader (I'll be back). I really want to expand/give origins ideas to the group chat(s?). Like how reader got the phone, how they got added and other things. Btw love who added that

With that said I'm starting a new agenda: ✨Grandfather Mozus Trein :D✨ Everyone knows that Crowley is *cough* neglectful & irresponsible *cough* always there for his students and never once put himself first 🤠. I feel like reader low-key reminds Trein of Anastasia (red hair) ya know? Maybe it's how reader plays with their hair when they start getting bored or the doodles on the written exams. All these little habits they share. Just an old man missing his family.

Someone has to be a responsible adult for reader and who else is better then a father with so much wisdom. He knows Yuu has a way of communicating and protecting himself so he isn't as concerned ,but poor reader can't do that to save their life :(

So I can see Trein giving them(mostly reader) a phone (B4 book 4). It's nothing new or special; it has an old blue case with a fading pattern and skuffs. The best part about it is Trein paying the bill. The wallpaper is changed to Grimm napping tho

It's kinda an unspoken rule that reader keeps it for the most part. With Yuu and all the things he tends to get into it would last a week if he was lucky.

More then likely the only numbers in the phone are Aduce/ maybe the other first years and Trein ,but I don't really see any of them be texters tbh. So not much coming in. Maybe a few homework questions??

As for apps a see maybe 2-ish games 👁️👄➖

Over all, it's just a classic antisocial person's phone. Until Cater finds out. Next time Yuu has the phone Carter tells him what should be added and how to #sign up for them. And Yuu being the person he is asks "Cater how do I help my introvert make friends?" Cater being the #helpful upperclassmen is he downloads the app and sends the invite.

The app they use is probably the twst discord. I think that's the only social idia has/honestly uses Some of them has like a cover for the icon. Like no one can know they use that app for whatever reason.

Everyone besides reader kinda knows what account belongs to which person. To add a bit of anonymous(ness?). Cuz no way would reader give her honest opinion about Rook or someone else if she knew that they themselves/close friends are in the chat.

Imagine if one of the guys that reader doesn't get along with ends up being one of reader's close/safe online friend. Like idk if you know who Aphmau is but she has a Minecraft roleplay PDH (don't judge me plss) where Aph and Aaron don't like each other irl but are really close online friends.

I'm sorry if my asks tend to be all over the place. I get sided tracked a lot and end up spacing out every 10 works. This was written between 3-5ish am. Also 👉👈 I think the reason we're on the same brain wave is cuz we're air signs.

Also thank you for liking/replying to my ask/yapping ☺️ it's means a lot to me

I've been waiting to get a Mac charger just to answer this ask🤭

GRANDFATHER TREIN IS SOMETHING I DID NOT KNOW I NEEDED BUT GLAD I GOT

because we always see crewel v crowley for custody over yuu.

but I defiantly agree with you that trein would see one of his daughters; especially anastasia in reader. whether it's by a few habits they both share, or how they're sometimes second fiddle to their more out going companion. but trein can see reader's life falling into shambles the more they're in twisted wonderland, the more they're isolated, and it kills him as both a father and educator.

and believe it or not, he cares about his students. they may not think so and curse him in the hallways, but they'll be thanking him in years to come, they always do (he prides himself in that, and the line of students he has at reunions telling him they're the best teacher they ever had.)

so maybe he pulls reader aside after class, ofc he can tell how tense they are, how nervous they are... especially by how intense their eye contact is, a little creepy but trein understands. he tells them to sit down in a chair he magically spawned as he flicks his head at lucien. who is all too glad to use you as a chair. he can see reader visibly relax as they're testing the water's with the temperamental feline, but trein starts talking.

he wants to help them, as he wouldn't be doing his job as an educator if he just stood by and watched you struggle. how he would have failed the pledge he made to crowley and himself if he let one os his students fall under the radar in favor for his smarter ones.

yes that should sting but it's the truth, and to no fault of your own. you obviously had... less than stupor teaching before this, and you have to catch up on a decades worth of stuff due to your... situation. and he is willing to help you during both lunch hours and free period. he also recommends student tutors for this and is willing to work out some kind of deal between you and the tutors. he wants to see you succeed. not just to prove he can turn a pumpkin into a carriage, but because you deserve it.

maybe you're not so much like his biological daughter, but like his step daughter. the one with a soul of diamond but a heart of glass. and if reader ever needs someone trustworthy (and he emphasizes this) that isn't actively split-dying their hair in their thirties or prances around with a bird mask then he is always open.

no matter how burdenous they feel relying on him, or if they think the matters are silly. he will tell it to them straight. he also suggests talking to cater diamond of heartslabyul, that if anyone can help you make friends, its that chatterbox.

dont even try to refute it cause trein AND lucien will be sporting you an unimpressed look.

but I swear to everything cater has a fucking NOSE- a sniffer if you would for introverts. or he has mastered chenya's invisibility spell and over heard your conversation because- I AGREE WITH YOU- yuu would 100% ask cater to help his little ol' introvert make friends.

so he seeks them out, grabs their phone while chatting away, and downloads 'magi cord' dw yuu is there too. cater even goes a step further and adds his contact to their phone because 'tehe he has the elusive reader's number and no body else does! #1inamillion #hewon! #he'sgonnaextrovertsohardit'llmakeyourheadspin 😼

but later that night you're fighting to go on the app when cater sends you a link, the second message he sends you (with 'hey hey! it's your fav upper classmen cay-cay here!' with an obnoxious amount of emojis, being the first)

it's a link to a magi cord group chat called; raven of secrets. (or smthn idk, I pulled that out of my ass) and he explains that the whole point of that group chat is to remain anonymous. there's a handful of members from different dorms and that's all you're supposed to know.

they talk about gossip, homework, assignments etc. the more he talks about it the more it sounds like a secret society. but nonetheless, you join.

and all hell breaks loose 🤭

personally I think that only a few people know who is who in the chat group. like the organizer because they gotta make sure everyone who has the link is an nrc student. and obviously there's a few friends who gave other people the link or joined together. but there's also active polls where people debate who is who.

just so it gives them the extra comfort of anonymity.

IMAGINE SOME ADMITS TO STALKING POOR READER AND IT TURNS INTO A THRILLER AHHHH (everyone knows who rook is. not because of his French, but because of his detailed posts)

NO CAUSE I WAS ALSO AN APHMAU FAN HAHAHAH I used to eat her role plays up. but watching them now... they're super cringe and I can barely watch an episode of phoenix drop high 😭

and dont even worry about it 'being all over the place because I am literally like that and it's so fun being able to bounce all over the place hehe

AND YAY ANOTHER AIR SIGN😽

#mel <3 #twisted anxiety 🌀#tiyoin 🔎#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #tiyoin’s cuties 。　 ඞ 。#twisted wonderland #twst

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miniisunshine · 2 months

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Hii! This is my first fanfic like ever, i had this idea before sleeping one night and decided to write it in case others would like this story too. Kinda taboo and it doesn't follow the plot of Under the Banner of Heaven, i only took the character of Sam! Enjoy!

(Also english is not my first language)

Synopsis : You didn't believe in god, but you sure believed in Father Sam

Warnings : Age gap (21-35), cheating, loss of virginity, sex in a religious place, p in v, AFAB character, soft dom

There you were, in a church with your family, praying to a god you didn't believe in.

Let's get back to the beginning: your mother always had problem conceving, having you almost took her life, but she was determine to have a second one, a boy, even if the doctors told your parents it would need a miracle to have another child. So they began to pray and pray, until your brother was born two years after you; a complete healthy boy.

As they were proud of the "Lord's work" they didn't hold back on talking about the miracle that was your brother at the church near your old house, that's how they met the Lafferty family, proud owners of a little commune where religion ruled the place.

And that's how you ended up living most of your life there. You always felt different, like you didn't belong with these people, religion life wasn't your style, but you couldn't leave. Your parents didn't let you work, so you couldn't save money for yourself, you weren't allowed to learn how to drive and the commune was too far to escape by foot. So you daydreamed about being a normal 21 years old: partying, graduating college, going out, experience life and... mostly sexual life. You've learned all about that on your phone, a 18th birthday present by your parents.

Not that you didn't know about your sexuality,nd sex in general, at your 18th birthday, you already knew your envies and your pulsions were normal, despite everyone telling you otherwise. I mean, why would God have created them? What wasn't normal was your feeling for Father Samuel Lafferty, the oldest son's in the Lafferty family.

It started as a small crush when you were 16, the day his dad let him take over the church's activities, so he could "retire" and live a calm life in the commune. But then, as you grew older, you knew you wanted him more than an high school girl crushing on a One Direction member. Unfortunately, as most men, he was already married to a good little wife, living a perfect life, or so you thought.

As you were waiting for the evening prayer, you noticed Samuel wasn't at the door, greeting his people like he used to, no he was late. Well, he still made it in time, but when he entered the church, you knew something was wrong with him, anger could be read in his eyes, but not enough so that everybody could see it, only you took notice of it.

As the evening prayer's ended, everybody stand up to leave, but not you, you were motivate to know what was on his mind. You said to your family that you had a question to ask to Father Sam and you waited for everybody to leave the house of God to went forward with your mission.

"Father Sam"

"Good evening"

He responded looking at you with a soft smile.

"I've noticed you weren't at the door today to greet our community, is everything alright? I was worried"

"Nothing to worry sweatheart, i still made it in time didn't i?"

"Yes, but i've noticed your anger in your eyes, is there something troubling you?"

"Like i said, nothing really important"

"You know, my family always said i had a great ear to listen when someone needed to talk about their problems..."

You pressed your hands on his forearms.

He sighed.

"i guess its always a relief to talk to someone who doesn't know you personnally, but you can't tell anyone, we are in the presence of God, he will know if you don't keep your promise"

"Mouth shut i promise, its like we'll never had this conversation"

"So... My wife and i, aren't really compatible in the bedroom"

You watch him with a curious face.

"You know, it's hard to conceived when there's no fun in the love making session"

You didn't know what took over you, but you took one step closer to him, putting your hands on his chest.

"Can you show me what fun would be like for you?"

And with that, you got his attention. Maybe it was because he was in need of a good fuck session, or he maybe was possessed by a demon, but he you took by the wrist, leading you to his small office before closing the door and curtains

"On your knees, now."

You could feel your heart beating fast and entrance getting wet. This was all happening so fast, but it was what you've always wanted, and you didn't want to messed up this opportunity, so you did as he told you to do.

He walked towards you, the excitement in his pants quite visible as he took your chin in his hand, smirking in your direction. With his other hand, he unbuckle his pants, dropping them on the floor, doing the same with his boxers, as you watch with anticipation

He wasn't huge, but he was still pretty big, so you wasted no time taking him in your hands, while you look into his eyes, in need of a reaction. As his breathing started to go faster, you surprised him by putting his member in your mouth. You've never done that with anyone, but the porn you've watched your phone, and the pratice you did in your room helped you a lot faking your confidence.

"Fuck..."

He gripped you by the back of your head, guiding you as he softly moan, head toward the ceilling, eyes closed.

As you were adjusting your mouth to his size and beginning to feel yourself on him, he pulled you up, taking you over his desk, bending you over and lifting your skirt to reveal your ass.

"I've never see you with a man before, have you ever done this?"

He massaged your butt, waiting for an answer, while you blushed.

"No... I was waiting for the right one, like you..."

"And what does that mean?"

He pulled down your underwear, revealing your soaking cunt, before carefully placing a finger in between your folds, finding your clit.

"I-I've always had a..a crush on you Father Sam... Every wet dreams i had w-was about you.."

You were a shaking mess, almost coming undone just by his soft touch on your clit.

He lower himself, whispering in your ears before entering a finger in your wet hole.

"So you dreamed about this moment?"

"Y-Yes! Oh my god.. Sam"

He started moving his finger into you leaving small kisses on your back, he wasted no time before putting a second and than a third one, making you moan and cry as you enjoyed this torturous pleasure.

"P-please Father.. I need t-to feel you... Please be the o-one to take my virginity..."

You couldn't believe yourself, you never thought you were this forward in life, but the things he made you feel were too much, you wanted more.

Without saying a word, he places himself in front of your entrance, thrusting a couple of times without entering, making you longing for him, before slowly pushing into you, grunting, feeling your walls taking him so perfectly.

You gasped as you didn't expet this to be so painful, but how so good was the pain for you.

At a slow pace he thrusted more and more of himself, grabbing your hips to keep you in place and moaning quietly to the sin he was committing.

He moved faster and faster, making you cry out of pleasure, scratching the desk you were on, hoping to catch something to hold onto.

Moaning louder and slapping your ass, leaving a mark on you, Sam placed his fingers on your clit, circling your pearl, aiming for your orgasm.

"C-come for me sweetheart, we're in this together..."

And with that, you let yourself coming undone on his desk, while he thrusted one last time, filling you with his semence.

Coming down from the high you were both in, he made sure to clean you, making you feel loved, not like a toy he just used. You look at him one last time, smilling with embarrassement, before leaving the church and going home, your heart filled and your head loaded with new fantasies.

Tadaaa, what have i write?! Hehe! Let me know what yall think!

#rory culkin #rory culkin x reader #under the banner of heaven #sam lafferty #rory culkin smut #smut #i ❤️ rory culkin

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manicpixiedreamcurl · 1 year

Text

The More You Give ❧ (Part V)

Pairing | Eddie x reader

Warnings | 18+ minors and blank blogs don’t interact, bullying, friendship comes and goes, discussions of anxiety, discussions of virginity, discussions of sex shaming, frottage (PUSSYJOB), everyone’s very vulnerable.

Word count | ~11,800

A/N | Oooh, mama. It’s been a while. I hope most of the people who like this fic are still around.

Taglist

Previous Chapter

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You like calling Eddie, the sound of his voice over the phone. The way he answers it differently each time:

“This is Eddie Munson, lead guitarist of Corroded Coffin; available for christenings, bar mitzvahs and weddings.”

“Munson residence. The old guy’s out so if you’re looking to buy a collection of novelty mugs now’s the time.”

“You’ve reached the church of Satan; Abaddon the Destroyer speaking. For your free introductory handbook on summoning circles just dial six-six-six.”

And then there’s the happy rise in his tone when he hears it’s you on the other side, the surprised laugh at the sound of your soft hi, Eddie even when he’d asked you to call. The crackle of his breath through the receiver, the way conversations with him are easy however they happen. With anyone else, phone calls feel stilted and awkward, but Eddie talks as if you’re sitting right in front of him.

It makes you warm all over to think about. Eddie wants to see you and kiss you and touch you, but he’s also happy to sit on his couch miles away and speak to you, listen in return to everything you can bring yourself to say.

You have taken to dragging a chair from the kitchen and sitting by the hallway table to talk to him like this whenever you don’t see him in the evening. You spend an hour or two at a time smiling at your mom’s address book, twirling the coiled cord of the phone around your finger while Eddie talks about this day, asks about yours, explains why he’s really into this new Swedish black metal band he’s discovered, checks what you’re reading, shares an idea he has for Hellfire, plans your next date.

Today is no exception. Your dad has walked past muttering about the phone bill twice. Your mom, as usual, has stationed herself in the kitchen within earshot, but what exactly she gets out of hearing the low buzz of Eddie’s voice and your laughter, you don’t know.

"And you're sure you don't wanna come, sweet girl?"

"Yeah, I-" You hesitate, playing with a rose petal from the bowl of potpourri that sits by the phone. "I think I should stay here. Just in case."

In truth, you don't have much hope that May will call, but imagining that she does and you aren’t here to receive it fills you with worry. The last thing you want is to make things any worse between you after you messed up so badly.

It’s not unusual for you to feel this type of regret. When overthinking something delays your actions until it’s too late. You worried so much about how to tell May about Eddie that you left it too long. You should have told her the day you kissed him, should have phoned when you got back from your first date. Instead, you spent your time imagining the conversation, and let your best friend find out something important through somebody else.

You hurt her. She is wounded enough that she really has given up defending you. When Caroline remarks on your silence now, May doesn't attempt to fill the emptiness your lumping throat leaves.

"She's just shy," May used to say, waving her hand. Her embarrassment over your stumbled words and fidgeting hands was clear, then, but you knew she felt for you, even if she didn't understand why she had to. Now she just looks at you expectedly like everyone else, pulls awkward, embarrassed faces when you stumble and fidget through a non-answer.

You had taken to spending more of your lunches helping Heather with her new responsibilities as class president, sitting quietly at debate club and nodding along to her speeches, taking the role of a small country at her model UN meetings. But you are starting to feel her frustration with you, too.

“You don’t have to come to every meeting if you don’t enjoy it.” She said to you after the last UN encounter you’d sat through without uttering a word.

“It’s just, I don’t really know much about Anguilla. But I like hearing you speak.”

Heather smiled with her lips closed. “That’s not what it’s for, though. I think maybe you’d prefer having lunch with May and the cheerleading girls again.”

You felt your cheeks burning, pulled the sleeves of your cardigan down over your hands and fiddled with the woollen edges. “Oh. Okay. Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Sometimes you think about sitting at Eddie’s table instead. To have another hour of him every day. The picture is nice on its own. Talking to him, to Jeff, even the freshmen Eddie has adopted since the beginning of the year. But then the image zooms out; you at the Hellfire table, May with the cheerleaders, Heather at her clubs, and your chest aches. You don’t know when it happened, when you had to start holding on this tight, digging your nails into them. You only know you’ll leave claw marks on your friendship before you let it go easy.

And while you can never get enough Eddie, you aren’t normally deprived of him outside of the school walls. With anyone else, you might have worried about suffocating him, being clingy. But Eddie makes it clear at every turn how much he wants to be around you. His grin in the mornings when you climb into his van. The way he leans into your space, hair tickling your cheeks, and asks all soft and earnest if you want to go home with him. Some days, he invites you into the trailer to touch and taste you. Others, to sit on his couch or his bed and talk. Or to just spend hours just breathing the same air as him, listening to him scribble in his D&D notebook or strum at his guitar while you read or do your homework.

But you won't see him tonight. Eddie is going to see Fright Night with most of the boys in his club, and it's all he's talked about the past week. He'd asked you to come, all wide brown eyes and dimples, and your stomach had twisted.

"Normally May and I do something around this time each month." You hadn't been able to look him in the eye when you said it, fiddling with his hands instead. You'd rubbed the softness of your thumb over the callused pads of his fingers, knowing he had that look he'd been getting whenever you found yourself bringing your friend up. A little sad, guilt he shouldn't be feeling. Irritation, at you or at her you're not brave enough to ask.

"You sure?" He asks over the phone now. "It'd be pretty easy for me to pick you up. I'm giving Wheeler a ride. He's just down the street from your place."

You feel a wave of fondness for him, for the lie he’s just told. He isn’t aware that you know exactly where Mike Wheeler lives. You’ve babysat Holly since you were sixteen, and the route to her home takes half an hour in your dad's car.

"I'm sure," you say, trying to sound firm. "But I hope you like the movie."

"If it's good, maybe we can see it together another time."

"You wouldn't mind going twice?"

"I'd watch the same movie twenty times in a row if you promised to come to the last one." He laughs, sounding enough like he means it that your smile hurts your cheeks.

"That might be a touch excessive," you murmur. "Twice sounds like enough."

"How about tomorrow? We could get dinner first, make a real date out of it."

Your face heats up like the first time Eddie asked you out. You touch your toe to your ankle, winding the cord of the phone tight around your finger. You whisper. "Okay."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." You press your knees together. "That sounds nice."

"Unless the movie's shit, then we'll have to call the whole thing off." You laugh down the phone, imagining the tease in Eddie’s smile. "I'll have a review for you by tomorrow, sweet thing."

"Okay, Eddie."

"And I'm not leaving for another ten minutes. If you change your mind, just call, okay?"

"Okay, Eddie," you repeat. "Have a nice time."

"See you soon, beautiful."

Your toes curl. "See you soon."

When he's gone and the phone is back in its holder, you have to sit tense and still for a second to avoid making some kind of happy squeal, settling for curling your fingers into your skirt and tapping your heels wildly against the floor.

You still feel a little dizzy with the thought of him when you pull the chair back into the kitchen, enough that you jump when your mom speaks. "That Eddie on the phone?"

You fix her with a look, because she knows exactly who you were talking to, and she gives you a mock innocent smile that shifts into a real one.

“You were laughing a lot.”

Her hands drip soapy water from the kitchen sink, finishing up the dishes that would have been done ten minutes ago if she hadn't dragged it out for an excuse to stay where she could hear you. You chew the inside of your lip while you take the next freshly cleaned plate from her. Grabbing a dry dish cloth to drag across the ceramic, you shrug one shoulder.

“He’s funny.”

“And you like that about him?”

“Mom.”

“Just a question!” She says, holding her hands up, before grabbing the dish towel from you to wipe her wet hands. “You talk more, when it’s him on the phone. Did you know that?”

“You listen to all my conversations?”

“I’m your mother,” she laughs, bumping your hip with hers. “And I’ve never heard you so chatty.” You give her another look and she reconsiders. "Chatty for you. There's been times I've rounded that corner surprised you were even on the phone, you're so quiet. I mean, with that last boy-” She hums a disapproving tone, reaches out to fix the collar of your cardigan. "I swear you'd sit there and not say anything at all."

“It's easier to talk to Eddie,” you admit, thinking about how pleased he looks when you ramble about what you're reading, the last kid you babysat, even the new eyeshadow palette you’d saved up for and felt a touch immature being so excited about. All his encouraging nods, all the questions and affirmations afterwards. "He's…"

He’s a million good things. Too many to name, too many to put in order. You glance at her to the side, raising one shoulder.

"I like him," she declares. "I think he's good for you."

Your face is hot and uncomfortable, but it still feels nice to agree. "I think so, too."

When the dishes are away and your mom is settled on the couch with your dad watching Quincy reruns, you walk slowly upstairs, hoping that the phone will ring again before your door closes.

You make a bet with yourself in your head. If it rings before I get to my room, it’ll be May. It’ll be May and she’ll want to be friends again and everything will be alright. You reach the top, spy the door the end of the hall. Any time after, it’ll be somebody else; a sales call, a chatty relative.

All you hear as you pad across the landing is your parents laughing at the TV.

With your door closed, your heart sore, you glance at your desk on the other side of the room, the cork pin board behind it decorated with memories. There is your first concert ticket, next to a postcard from the first time you left this country by plane. An askew origami frog that a boy you used to babysit made for you. A pom-pom that detached from the winter hat you wore from October to March three years running in middle school.

There is Heather. One photo as she is now, smiling at you over a yellow smoothie. Another couple from your first years together, at the edge of womanhood. Her in braces and her mother's lipstick, the aquamarine taffeta dress she wore to your first high school prom.

And there is May. She is everywhere, over and over again, in all the stages of her life since you met. She is in pigtails, her small hand in yours, her gap toothed grin next to your close lipped smile. She is in this room, with sparkling eyelids, the earliest and most keen model for your interest. She is at the Spring fair of 1979, holding cotton candy you'd shared soon after the photo was taken. She is at that first concert, decked out in Wham! merchandise. Swim meets and cheer competitions. A line of photo booth strips. You are there with her; both giggling, eyes crossed and tongues rolled.

May has been a constant in your life, but now your life has shifted. Maybe you have to accept that she doesn’t want to shift with it.

The phone rings downstairs.

You hear your dad huff, the sound of your mom rising from the couch and heading through the hall. You hold your breath, listen to the buzz of her landline specific voice, all breezy politeness. Then she calls your name.

You practically throw yourself down the stairs, slipping at the last couple in your socks. You have to hold yourself back from grabbing the phone from her. Taking just a second to glance over your shoulder to check that she's actually walking away, you whisper into the phone. “Hello?”

"Where are you? I rented Footloose." Tears prick in your eyes at the sound of May’s voice. You look up to the ceiling, silent for too long. “You still there?”

“Yes,” you breathe.

“Where are you?” She repeats. “Second Friday of the month. It’s movie night.”

“I didn’t-” You swallow, blinking tears away as they rise and trying not to sniffle. “I thought maybe you didn’t want to see me.”

"Of course I want to see you,” she answers. “You're my best friend."

You feel your bottom lip shaking, can’t fight the sniffles this time. You drag the sleeve of your cardigan across your eyes, voice cracking when you speak next. "You really mean it, May?"

"I’m inviting you round, aren’t I?” She says, sharp tone softened by a sigh crackling in your ear through the receiver. “Of course I mean it.” You hum a high sound, a stifled sob of relief, eyes squeezed shut. “Now, come watch Kevin Bacon shake his ass with me."

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You are warm under the silken soft quilt pulled from May’s bed. Your stomach is heavy with buttered popcorn and gummy worms. Your skin is soft from the homemade face masks you made in her kitchen, singing along to Cyndi Lauper and listening to May read the recipe aloud from the newest YM magazine dropped on her doorstep just this morning.

Stirring oatmeal and yoghurt together like a potion, you felt a pang of nostalgia. For a second, you were seven years old, standing with May over a muddy puddle, your makeshift cauldron brimming with gathered leaves, stones, and red berries. You’d mix it up with long, gnarled twigs and cackle together like the witches. The mucky water wasn’t just mud, then. It was poison, it was love potion. It was magic, made together.

Today, at eighteen, you glanced up at May’s concentrated face while she attempted to separate egg whites from yolks, and let yourself be soothed by the thought that maybe some things are still as they were.

Footloose was abandoned after Kevin Bacon finished throwing himself rhythmically around an empty warehouse, May’s interest in it vanishing swiftly after that. You found yourself on the couch talking while the film played on in the background until the popcorn was finished and the oats could be washed from your face.

Then May led you up to her room, almost as familiar to you as your own.

The cream lambskin rug, still matted and stained in one corner from that time you’d spilt nail polish over it. Terrified you might not be allowed to come over anymore, May told her mom it was her, and she was grounded for a week.

You bought her those fairy lights, the ones that hang above her bed. Last year, you wrapped them in pink tissue paper, felt the satisfying swell of a present well chosen when she’d hugged you tight with the box still in her hand.

May has her own cork board. Amongst plastic medals and concert tickets, there is you at that fair, you and Heather at prom, the second strip from the photo booth.

“And it’s like, when was it decided that we had to pick our whole future at eighteen, anyway?” May asks, eyebrows twitching like she wants to furrow them. She fights through it, keeping them high on her forehead to let you smooth powder over her lids. “Here I am, barely out of the cradle!” You snort, and her mouth tilts a touch. “Feels like I started walking last week, and now it’s all, what do you mean you don’t have a clue what you want to do with your life? It just feels crazy to me.”

“It is.” You shift forward on the soft shag carpet, your knees bumping hers under the throw keeping your legs warm.

“Right? I mean, you know that your brain doesn’t even really mature until you’re, like, twenty-five? So I am close enough to a child that I really shouldn’t have this responsibility.”

Humming in agreement, you rub your thumb at the corner of her eye, smudging the edge of the lilac eyeshadow there.

“At least I have an idea where I’m going. Indiana State, here I come. You’re still applying for NYU, right?”

“Mm. Maybe,”

“Oh, come on, you have to apply at least!” She insists, eyelids twitching. “It’s the place to be, for your poetry, right?”

You hum. “I might still do Chemistry.”

“Chemis- absolutely not!” Her eyes fly open, and you make a noise of protest.

“I’m not done!”

“You are not doing Chemistry.” May says, a comic picture with one eye bordered by soft pastel tones, the other bare of colour, while she looks at you sternly. “You don’t enjoy it!”

“But I could get a job at the end,” you reason.

May snorts, eyes closing gently, chin peaking out to let you get back into it as though she’s already won the argument. “Job schmob,” she says. “When you’re in New York, you can find a rich man to worry about that.” You frown, and like she senses it, the eye you’re not working on opens again. “Or find a rich man for me. He has to be really rolling in it though, so he can look after us both.”

You hear Eddie’s voice in your ear like he’s in the room with you. Just wait, I’ll look after you.

“Think you can do that?” May asks. “Keep an eye out for me, when you’re making all your arty, interesting friends in New York?”

You swallow, tuning back into the conversation. “I don’t think really want me to find you a man.”

“Mmph. The way my love life is going, I’ll need whatever help I can get.” She moves a little then, a slight tilt of her head that would be imperceptible to anyone but you, who's seen every degree of emotion on May’s face. You know she’s going to drop something serious before she even opens her mouth. “I saw Liam last week.”

You fight through the temptation to stop blending the eyeshadow on her lids, keeping your tone as even as possible. “Oh?”

“When I was in Indianapolis with the girls?” Those trips with the cheerleaders you avoid desperately. The thought of being stuck in a car with Caroline on the way there and back can make you break out in a cold sweat. “He was at one of the bars. He apologised, said he wanted to maybe go out again.”

“Mm.”

“Oh, don’t.”

“I didn’t say anything-”

“That was your judgy mmmh,” she says, batting your hand away from her face to look at you straight. “Last time I heard it was when I showed you that top I bought last month.”

Despite yourself, you crack at the memory of the flouncy pink thing she’d shown you with an awkward, self-aware smile. You’d been working out how to gently tell her to burn it when she’d figured out the tone of your hum and thrown it off in front of you with a whispered, “what was I thinking?”

Now, your tilted lips turn down at May’s solemn expression, her eyes shiny.

You shuffle closer, tucking the blanket around the both of you gently, cocooning your legs in together. “He hurt you, last time. Used you.”

She chews her lip. “That’s what boys do.”

“May-”

“I know you think what happened with Andy was bad, but you’ll learn, that’s just how they are. They need a little more forgiveness than girls, and some of them are worth it.”

You feel the beginning of the argument she might not be quite past. “Andy didn’t really like me, May. He only wanted-”

“The same thing they all want. The only thing they all want.”

Your heart aches for her. “That’s not true.”

“You think it’s not true right now, but when you hold out on Munson the way you did with Andy, you’ll see that it is.”

You fiddle with your fingers then, wondering if you should tell her. The guilt of not sharing that you’d started seeing Eddie prickles along the back of your neck. Your knee starts to bounce, and May blinks at you, just as attune to the meaning of your expressions. “Well, with Eddie-”

“Please, please, tell me you haven’t fucked Eddie Munson.”

“No. I mean, not yet but,” you begin, fiddling with your skirt. “Like, we’ve done, y’know, other stuff.” You glance at her shocked face, worry rising. “Don’t tell anyone. Please.”

“Why would I tell anyone something that would literally ruin what’s little is left of your reputation? You wouldn’t let Andy do anything but you’ve been seeing the freak for a few weeks and you’re, what, sitting in his dirty van giving him hand jobs?”

“Oh my god, May!”

“What? What am I supposed to think?”

You shake your head, tense your hands in your clothes. “It’s not like that with Eddie.” Your mind is awash with shiny brown eyes, soft pink cheeks, Eddie’s voice tickling your neck. “I don’t worry about anything, with him. It’s fun.”

“It’s fun.”

“It’s like, I thought sex was something a boy would do to me, something I’d have to let him do. With Andy, it was like if he took me on dates, it was what he would get in return,” you say, fiddling with the blanket. “But with Eddie it’s like,” you hum, hating how awkward this all sounds, so unused to talking about sex yourself, so used to hearing it from other, experienced, confident people. “We go on dates together, and talk together. And then with the, y’know, sexual stuff, we’re doing it…together.”

“But not really doing it, right?”

“No. But my point is,” you continue, grabbing her hand, clasping it in both of yours. “I know I don’t really know anything about boys, and I know you’re not Eddie’s biggest fan. But even though it’s not been long, I think he’s proof that, maybe, sometimes, boys aren’t what either of us thought. And if you really like Liam, then maybe he deserves your forgiveness. But I really, really don’t think he does if he hasn’t made you think twice about what all boys want. And maybe if you found somebody like Eddie-” She makes a face, but you ignore it. “I mean, somebody who doesn’t ask you to forgive them all the time. I think that would be better.”

“Well, I can tell you right now, I don’t want an Eddie.” You press your lips together, listen to her sigh. “But you’re also…probably, maybe right about Liam.”

“He doesn’t deserve you, May. I mean, to apologise when you happened to be at the same bar! If he was really sorry, he should have come to see you with flowers and everything. He probably just saw you, all pretty, and realised what a dunce he’d been.”

She smiles a little at the vitriol in your voice, usually so soft and quiet. “I missed you.”

You almost flinch. “I’ve been here.”

“You stopped sitting with me at lunch.”

“I…” You close your mouth, shrug instead.

“I know it’s partly my fault. I was angry, so I stopped defending you. But then, I mean, you just gave up.”

“I just- Some of the cheer girls are so intimidating, I never know what to say to them.”

“But you don’t try.” Your heart is sore, the guilt of knowing you’ve made life a little more difficult for her. “Listen, if you want to date Eddie Munson, I can be okay with that. I am okay with that.” She nods, seemingly trying to convince herself. “But will you just try, a little more, with the cheer girls? You don’t have to defend your relationship all the time, but maybe just try talking to them about something else? You could come on our next trip!”

Your toes curl at the thought. “I don’t know.”

“Please? We can’t let a boy come between us.” You wonder what she’d say if she knew how hard Eddie seems to try not to come between you. “I like Heather, even though she abandoned us. And I like the cheer girls. But I love you. You’re my best friend.”

“I love you, May. It won’t change.”

“So you’ll try?”

You chew the inside of your lip, give her a little nod that has her breaking out into a smile. “Okay. Okay, great.”

You try not to think about exactly what you’ve just compromised on while you finish her make up. May sits, silent and smiling while you sweep dark eyeliner across her lids, brush mascara over her long lashes.

“There, all done.” You love this bit. May turns to the floor length mirror beside you and grins at her reflection, her pretty eyes bordered by soft pastels from your new palette. It sends a warmth through you that you’d never admit to. Knowing you’re good at this, that even the cheer girls who think you’re weird admire the way you’ll do their make up at competitions. “It’s cool, right?”

“I love it,” she breathes, shifting closer to the mirror enough that the warm throw pulls from the tops of your legs, leaving your thighs chilly. “Just one last question. You’re not gonna play that Satanist game, right?”

Your brain short circuits, having thought you’d just agreed that you wouldn’t have to explain yourself. “Um, It’s really not what you think.”

The scene plays out in your mind. Eddie, his lips on yours, your hands tangled in his hair, letting you tilt your hips to rub yourself over his thigh, suddenly pulled away from you with a gasp. He’d thrown himself from the bed dramatically, holding his open jeans up by the waistband. You’d watched him, breathless and warm, while he scrambled for a pen before writing in his D&D notebook and looking up at you in excitement. “I just thought of a really cool way to lure them into this whole cave thing I’ve been planning. Shit. They’re so fucked.” Before you could consider being offended that that’s what he’d been thinking about while kissing you, your legs were over his shoulders, his lips were smiling at your thigh.

You can’t help your fond laugh. “Eddie’s such a dork about it. Last week-” You pause at her expression, realising that May probably doesn’t want to hear that story. You clear your throat. “They just pretend to be fantasy characters.” Witches over a cauldron, Princesses sharing a Kingdom. “Like we used to do, sorta.”

“Yeah, when we were kids.”

You have to swallow the lump that brings up to your throat. To hear her dismissal of the time you’ve been daydreaming about since you walked through her front door. “It’s not Satanist.”

“But you’re still not going to play it, right?”

“No,” you say, feeling cold. “I don’t think I’d be very good at it, anyway.”

She watches you for a second, but says nothing before grabbing the eyeshadow palette from the floor beside you. “Let me try, then. Get you all glammed up for making s’mores later.”

You smile with closed lips, let your eyes fall shut. You have to ignore the pang in your heart, the reminder that some things are entirely different from when you were seven.

❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦

“You know, I kinda thought there’d be more trembling.” Eddie’s breath tickles your ear as he whispers, again when he blows cool air on your neck just to see you wriggle a little while you look up at him, wide eyed. His pale face is illuminated only by the screen at the front of the room, but you can still see the mischief in his eyes, in the barely there turn of his smile. “I was told that taking a pretty girl to a scary movie would have you grabbing my thigh in pure terror. That you’d need me to comfort you with my masculinity.”

You just about fight off the laugh, still glad that you are sequestered together in the back row when a soft amused noise escapes your throat. On screen, the newly transformed and aptly named Evil Ed laughs maniacally. The special effects and practical make up are impressive, but the whole thing has enough of a teen movie vibe that you’ve been about as scared as you were watching Kevin Bacon stuck on a tractor yesterday.

“You and your masculinity should have picked a scarier movie.” You feel the flutter of nerves that accompanies teasing Eddie back, still always a little worried that it will come out wrong. The answer of Eddie stifling his laughter, eyes crinkling at the sides, has the butterflies scattering.

“Noted,” Eddie whispers, cheeks dimpled. It strikes you how close he is now, his breath spreading over your cheeks. He leans down more, his nose at your temple, his lips pressing soft to the skin beside your eye. You shut both, breath shaking as Eddie’s mouth leaves a handful of kisses down your cheek to the corner of your mouth. There, he feels you twitch, and his eyes open to find you tense in your seat, fingers curled in your sleeves.

You are fighting the urge to turn and check the rest of the row, the whole room, to make sure nobody is watching. The image of an attendant appearing with a flashlight taunts you, the thought of being escorted out of the theatre in shame. You open your mouth, trying to work out what to say, but Eddie just smiles at you. His hand finds yours, fingers tangling together in a gentle squeeze.

“Sorry,” he whispers, licking his lips quickly. “M’sorry, baby.”

You watch him lean back in his seat, face set in contentment to be sitting with you and feeling your palm against his. You’d been worried for a second there, that he might be angry with you, or that you might have to explain your worries until he understood. But it’s Eddie.

You stare at his profile, the soft curls the brush his face, his pouty lips, and find you really, really want to kiss him, here and now. Eddie’s your boyfriend, you remind yourself with a shiver of happiness. Teenage girls have been kissing their boyfriends in the backs of movie theatres since the projector was invented, so why, why, shouldn’t you kiss yours?

You rub at the sleeve of your cardigan with your free hand, letting yourself have the comfort of looking around you quickly to make sure there really isn’t anyone else in this row, or even the one in front. With your eyes closed tight, you remind yourself that the boy who ripped your tickets looked about fifteen, not quite dedicated enough to this job to search the rows looking for kissing teenagers with an invasive flashlight.

Pressing your knees together, you cuddle into Eddie’s side, smell his two-in-one shampoo and his aftershave and his skin. You press a kiss to his cheek, feel a little scratch of early stubble against your lips. His head turns, eyes scanning over your face. “We don’t have to, sweet thing.”

“I know.” You nod, tilting your chin up in petition. “Please?”

Eddie watches you for a second, giving you time to back out before he leans down to press his lips to yours. It’s a chaste thing; so quick that he has your mouth following him when he pulls away to make sure you’re still happy to kiss him here. Eddie breathes a soft laugh that has your stomach twisting, then his hand is covering your cheek. You feel his breath, your eyes close, and he’s kissing you.

Eddie’s mouth is warm, but it tastes like blue raspberry slushy; sweet and sharp. At the first lick of his tongue against your lips, you feel a soft noise wanting to escape your throat, but it’s beaten back swiftly by the remaining fear that has your heart racing even as Eddie’s thumb smooths a gentle caress over your cheek. Underneath that is a new giddiness. The feeling that you’ve pushed past something, overcome a fear, however small. And to be doing this, making out with your boyfriend at the back of a movie theatre, like other girls have done.

Your arms find his shoulders, hands clasped together behind him, and Eddie smiles to your lips, just barely pulls away. His thumb stretches to rub your swollen bottom lip. “My brave girl.”

You shiver when he kisses you again, your toes curling in your sneakers. You think you could live on Eddie’s praise. Every pretty girl, smart girl, good girl he gives feels like it’s designed to leave you wanting to crawl onto his thighs, or else sit between them. Eddie’s mouth, intent on yours, wet enough that it feels like the start of something he definitely won’t finish in the back row of screen three, has you remembering how free he can be with his praise when your mouth is on him.

You weren’t expecting to like it so much, but thinking about the weight and taste of him in your mouth makes you squirm as much as the thought of his own tongue where you are most sensitive. You’ve enjoyed it every time since the first moment you spent looking up at him from between his thighs. Watching Eddie fight to keep his eyes on you, mess his own hair up when he forces himself not to take yours in his fist and push you down. His voice, desperate and breathy, coaxing you to try and take him just a little deeper, sweet thing. The quick hot flash of degradation when he taps his cock against your cheek or your tongue before pressing inside.

There is even something pleasant about the lasting ache in your jaw afterwards. The feeling that you’re willing and wanting to do something that hurts to make Eddie feel good is a sick satisfaction you're not yet used to.

Cinema speakers fill the room with a swelling, dramatic soundtrack. A girl screams, a monster cries out in pain, no doubt making everyone else in the room jump in terror and shake with anticipation for how the whole thing will end. You can hear it, but only just, so firmly in the world of Eddie-Eddie-Eddie.

Eddie has the beats of the movie memorised already, pulling away from you with a soft gasp just as the opening notes of the music over the end credits begin, a little line of spit connecting your lips until Eddie makes one last move to lick it away.

The lights come up seconds later, the first groups of people standing to leave. They walk past you and Eddie, both breathless and dishevelled, without a second glance. Under the new lighting, Eddie’s cheeks are now clearly pink. It warms you from the inside out to know that you did that.

You feel the need to be close to Eddie as you leave, grasping onto his hand with both of yours when your jackets are on and he’s guiding you from the theatre. “How’d you like the movie?” He asks in the parking lot, dimples deep in his cheeks.

You hide your face in his arm, feeling that strange new embarrassment crawling up your spine. You mumble into the leather of his sleeve. “I hope nobody asks me how it ends.”

“Yeah, hadn’t thought about that.” Eddie opens the door to his van, holding your hand to help you up until you’re settled in the front seat. He leans in through the door with wide eyes. “Hey, maybe we could see it again next weekend?”

You chew the inside of your lip. “Would I really see the end if we did?”

His head falls forward, hair following in a wave. When his head tilts back up, one of his eyes is closed. “You figured me out that easy, huh?”

You smile at each other, Eddie looking over your face as you look over his. His big eyes, dark eyelashes, light freckles, sweet nose, plush pink lips. You’ve never seen another boy you could so comfortably describe as pretty.

You think he might walk round to his side, but instead you feel Eddie’s palm, warm at your knee. “So, uh, the thing is,” he rubs a circle with his thumb at the bottom of your thigh. “It’s Wayne’s day off, and most likely if we go to my place he’ll be in the living room watching MacGyver.”

“Oh.”

You feel guilty for being disappointed. Wayne is always polite, never breathes a word of complaint at the fact you seem to be in his home most days. The only inkling of irritation you get is never at you or Eddie. Instead, there is something in the way he drags himself from the trailer every evening, ready to stay up all night at the factory. When you’d asked where he slept, realising that the only bedroom in the trailer was the one decked out with posters and amps, Eddie had shown you the fold out bed in the living room with a close lipped smile.

He is, more than anyone, due a day off. But you were gearing yourself up for being in Eddie’s bed tonight, trying to prepare the least awkward way of asking him.

“And I’m happy to just hang out with you, sweet thing, you know that.” His hand squeezes, even the metal of his rings warm from his skin. “So we can go back to mine and watch MacGyver with the old man, or I could try to teach you some guitar again?”

That’s tempting, certainly. You doubt sitting between Eddie’s legs with his arms around you, guiding your hands over his acoustic guitar was the most effective teaching method, but you certainly preferred it to any alternative.

“But if you wanted,” Eddie continues. “Only if you wanted, I could maybe drive us to the quarry or something?” Eddie blinks, tucks some of his hair behind his ear with his free hand. “It’s, uh, quiet.”

Your heart beats a little faster, you can hear the sudden rush of it in your ears. “Okay.”

“Okay?” He asks, in that sweet way of his, wanting to make sure you’re not just acquiescing to everything he suggests.

“Sounds good, I mean.”

“Okay,” he nods. “Belt on, sweet thing.” He gives your knee one last squeeze while you pull the belt over your front, then pushes away from the frame of the door. He taps a quick rhythm under the window when it’s closed, grins at you through the glass. You watch him jog round to the other side, hair flying out behind him, and wonder if every single thing he does will make you want him more.

You sit in companionable silence while Eddie drives, feeling that soft comfort you only get with a few people, knowing that he’s not waiting for you to speak. You look out the window, watch the shops and gas stations disperse into houses which in turn give way to trees. All of them appear more as streaks of colour than clear pictures with the way Eddie drives, like he’s being judged on time.

“Hey, can I play you something?”

You turn from the window, taking a second to fully register the question before you hum a positive noise. Eddie’s right hand reaches out to turn on the stereo, the sudden attack to your ears of wailing guitar making you jump until he turns it down all the way with a sheepish smile, a murmured, “sorry.”

You watch Eddie’s hand, pale and lithe, as he skips through tracks. The metal chain that adorns his wrist is twisted a little at the leather clasp, and you reach to straighten it out with your thumb and first finger. When he’s found the right track, he turns it back up a touch, wiggles his fingers until you grab his hand. An urgent rhythm fills the van, the tell-tale guitars of all Eddie’s music, and he sighs, leaning back into his seat with a grin.

“Hear the rime of the ancient mariner, see his eye as he stops one of three, mesmerises one of the wedding guests. Stay here and listen to the nightmares of the sea.”

Something clicks.

“Oh, that’s a Coleridge poem!” You lean forward to turn it up further with your free hand, trying to concentrate on the words. It tells the whole story from the lyrical poem you’ve had a copy of since you took an interest in the romantics when you were fifteen; a mariner who kills an albatross and is blamed for the resulting misfortune by everyone on his ship.

“I knew you’d know it. My smart girl.” Eddie is the picture of pride, eyes crinkled at the sides. “I was reading a Steve Harris interview - he, uh, writes most of Iron Maiden’s songs? And he mentioned the reference and I just thought, you know, you might think it was cool.”

“I do.” You picture Eddie, soft and comfy in his bed, flicking through a magazine. You imagine him reading about his favourite thing, and a spark lighting in his head relating to you. Something that made him excited to share it with you. “Thank you, Eddie.”

He shrugs, like it doesn’t mean anything, but his cheeks are blooming with pink. You can’t say anything else, for fear of blurting out every thought running through your head.

You listen in silence, trying to decide how you want to ask him. Every way to say it feels awkward and wrong. Fuck me, take me, have sex with me. You picture asking Eddie to make love and feel a mix of yearning and nausea. By the time you reach the quarry, you have been playing with the ring on Eddie’s right hand, feeling the smooth stone, twisting it round his finger, for a good five minutes.

Eddie steals his hand from you while he parks by the trees opposite the quarry, pulling the keys from the ignition and throwing them on the dashboard before reaching out to let you take hold of his hand again. The easy quiet is gone. You can feel him waiting for you to speak. Your mind screams at you to remain silent, hating the thought that you might risk humiliation with Eddie.

“Will you look at me, baby?” Eddie pulls your hands from between you. You follow it with your gaze, watch him press a kiss to your knuckles before you meet his eyes. "I really didn't mean to, you know, imply anything by bringing you here."

You shake your head emphatically. “I know. You’d never.”

Eddie breathes a little sigh from his nose, looking relieved. You think he has to be the sweetest boy ever born, and then you can’t help yourself. Eddie makes a soft happy noise when you bring your face to his, lets you kiss his soft bottom lip. He licks softly at yours, so you open your mouth to let him in, holding back a whine and reaching up to play with the collar of his denim vest; the material rough and familiar in your fingers.

Eddie pulls from you, licks his lips, and breathes, "I can't get enough of that."

"Mm?"

"The way you grab at me when you get a little shy."

Your eyes widen, processing the reminder that your silly little habits are not as inconspicuous as you might wish to believe. Of course Eddie has noticed the way you fiddle with his hands, his rings, his hair, his clothes, the second you feel an uptick in the pace of your heart. But then, Eddie just said he likes it.

"S'not annoying?"

“Not for me! They call me Eddie the stress toy, you know. People used to come for miles around to give me a squeeze."

You laugh at his attempt at an earnest face. "Used to?"

"Yeah, well, you got exclusive rights, these days." Eddie says, tilting his head with a touch of endearing shyness. “What kinda idiot would I have to be, not to like my girl touching me all over?”

You want him, want him, want him.

You press your heated face to his shoulder, still playing with the frayed denim of his collar while you mumble into the vest. “Eddie?” You feel the vibration of his answering hum against your cheek. “I want-” You shake your head, as if you could bury yourself into his clothes. “Can we-” You turn your face, looking at the seat behind, all the space there.

Eddie strokes at your waist. “You wanna, uh, get in the back?”

At your quick nod, Eddie clasps your cheek with his warm hand. He tilts your head, kisses you soundly. “Stay right there.”

Eddie jumps from the van, legs swinging, and jogs round to your side to open the door for you. “Princess,” he says, offering you his hand with a flourish. You giggle, jumping down towards him and letting him lead you round to the back of his van like a gentleman. Still keeping up the routine, he opens the back door and gestures with a bow before helping you up.

The back is a scene of amps and wires, a bass drum with CORRODED COFFIN scrawled over the skin. Luckily there is space enough for the two of you, so you settle yourself in the middle, surrounded by enough little pieces of Eddie that the back of this van feels a little like home. When you look up, Eddie’s still outside, staring in at you.

You press your knees together, turn them to the side. “Eddie?”

“Yeah-” his voice breaks. He tries to hide it with a cough, clearing his throat and giving his chest a couple taps with the side of his fist. “Yeah,” he repeats, deeper now, as he climbs up after you. When the doors are closed, Eddie shuffles towards you, half squatting. “So, you’re happy with the carriage, Princess?” You nod, throat tight when Eddie kneels down in front of you. “That’s good.” Something in his face changes, a spark of excitement in his dark eyes. “You wanna lay back for me?”

The space between your legs pulses. “Mm.”

“Here,” he says, pulling off his jacket and rolling it up into a makeshift pillow. You lean back and he leans in to place it below your head, face above yours while you settle into the soft leather. His hair tickles your cheeks until he tucks it back, staring down at you. Your heart, your body, screams at you, ask him, ask him, ask him. Eddie kisses your neck quickly, shakes his head like he’s emptying out a thought. “Fuck, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had this dream.”

Again, ask him, ask him, ask him.

“Eddie,” you start, mind caught between the worry of how this will go and giving in to the gentle fuzziness of Eddie’s hands rubbing gently at your waist. You swallow, look to his eyes, then his forehead. “Will you-” The words catch, leaving you with a warm face and eyes squeezed closed in embarrassment.

Eddie hums, gifts your cheeks his lips. His nose brushes the side of your face, and he murmurs. “Anything you want, pretty. Let me hear it, mm? ”

It’s Eddie, you tell yourself. From the first time you spoke to him, he’s never judged you for anything. He won’t judge you now. It’s Eddie, you repeat in your head. My Eddie.

“I’ve never, um-” Your toes curl at the clear nerves in your voice, the beating of your heart that you swear he must be able to hear. “Nobody’s ever- Mmh.”

“It’s just me,” Eddie says, thumb at your cheek. “It’s only me, sweet girl. Wanna know what you’re thinking.”

“I think,” you sigh, let some of the nerves out with it. “I think you’re beautiful, Eddie.” He blinks, surprised, but gives you a sweet smile when you touch gently at his pink cheek, feel the beginning of bristle under your finger. “And I want you. I mean, I want you to be first.” And second, and third, and every time after.

You stare at each other, breath heavy in your chest. Eddie’s eyes shine until he blinks it away. “Come- come here,” Even though he says it, he’s the one to lean down to you, giving you a chaste kiss that turns desperate when you reach up to play with his curls.

Your head swims, relief and anticipation swirling together. A quiet moan escapes you when Eddie’s mouth moves to your jaw, down your neck. “Do you, um, have, like, protection?”

Eddie freezes. His face comes into view, brows furrowed. “Wait. You want me to fuck you right now?”

Oh. You hear the rush of blood in your ears, a ringing noise. You pull your hands from his hair, fingers curling, hands tucked to your chest. You suddenly wish he wasn’t on top of you, wish you could hide your face from him. Your head starts working overtime, supplying all the things he’s no doubt thinking about you now. You think of Erin, writing on the bathroom wall. Slut. Desperate. Whore.

“Hey,” he says, voice soft. Eddie presses his pointer finger to your temple, gives it a playful rub. “Are you doing that thing you said you do? Lying there convincing yourself you’ve fucked something up?”

A little part of you resents that he nailed it down so quickly, but you nod, blinking away the first bubbling tears, staring at the collar of his Metallica shirt rather than his face. “I just thought you’d want to.”

Eddie makes a soft noise at the back of his throat. “C’mere.” He pushes himself up from the floor of the van, grabs your hand to pull you with him. You end up curled at his side, knees just resting on the side of his thigh, his arm tucked around your shoulder as he leans you both against the back of the seats. You pull your sleeves over your hands, fidgety even as Eddie is rubbing at your shoulder softly.

“Course I want to,” he says, leaning into you. “I wanted you on that picnic table. I want you all the time.”

That soothes you a little, enough that your right hand peeks out from your sleeve to play with the hem of his shirt. But your sensitive heart still throbs, tentative and sore. “So, why…?”

“I- Shit. Give me a minute.” Eddie hugs you tight for a second, then shuffles across the floor of the van, practically launching himself out of the back doors with a practised ease that makes you smile despite yourself. You can’t see him from here, but you hear him outside, the passenger door opening and closing behind you. When he returns, he’s got that metal lunch box he carries around with him. A different kind of confusion blooms when he sits next to you and opens it, rummaging through the little plastic bags of illicit substances. He pulls out a wad of rolled bills, a little chunkier than when you’d bought weed from him in the woods that first day.

“Wanna know what this is for?” Eddie asks, looking unusually serious when you glance at him. He opens his mouth then closes it again, eyes fixing on where he is thumbing at the band holding the bills together. “I thought you might ask me, eventually. Hoped you would, at least.” He breathes a laugh, pings the elastic. “So I’ve been saving up, you know?”

“Saving up?”

Eddie nods, turns his wide gaze to you with a tilted head. “Wanted to take you somewhere nice. Buy you dinner, something other than a burger or a pizza slice. Get a room at a hotel, with a big comfy bed. Thought I could show you-” He twitches, eyes flickering away from your face and back again. He swallows, shrugs. “S’like I said. I wanna deserve you.”

Your tense shoulders slump. Your chest aches. “Eddie,” you whisper, shaking your head. Trying again to blink away tears, you grab the roll of dollars from him, throw it back into that dumb obvious lunchbox. You climb up into his lap and wrap your arms around his shoulders. Your wet eyes meet his. “You don’t have to prove anything. You deserve-” Me, whatever you want, everything. Your fingers twitch. You close your eyes tight, ashamed you can’t look at him when you say it. “I think, all the time, about how much I wish I knew you earlier. It’s like, before, I just spent the whole time missing you.” You find it in you to look at him then, gaze at his pretty face; pink, lightly freckled, shiny under his eyes. “I want you, Eddie. I want to be with you wherever you are.”

You stare at each other, listening to the steady rhythm of your breaths until they move in sequence, chests expanding and contracting together. You get that same feeling you got when Eddie held your hand after touching you for the first time, how he listened when you told him about how you blow out of proportion in your head, the way he was angry for you when you recounted how Andy treated you. When Eddie told you that he couldn’t understand you liking him, that people have held him at arm's length for being too much, that he refuses to give up on school, believes wholeheartedly in his dreams. One moment at a time, you are peeling back layers, exposing soft tissue. You are offering each other all your hidden parts, whispering, please look after this with every squeezed hand and kissed cheek.

Eddie sniffs, wipes his eyes. Seeing his shaky smile, hearing his wet laugh, is better than any soft bed in any hotel.

“That’s good, cause, uh, I really hadn’t saved that much.” You giggle together through lumped throats. “At the rate I was going, you were gonna be waiting till you were forty-five.” You shake your head at him fondly, reaching up to play with the feathers of hair that brush the side of his face. Eddie pulls you in closer, ducks his chin. “But I still can’t take your virginity in the back of my van, sweet thing,” he says. “It just wouldn’t be right. You should be in a bed, at least. And if you’re happy for it to be mine? I’ll just make sure my sheets are washed.”

You rub the soft ends of his hair between your fingers. “That sounds nice.”

“Yeah?” His hand comes to your cheek, helping you look at him. He must be able to feel the warmth of your face in his hand, but you lean into his palm anyway. When Eddie kisses you, it’s a gentle thing, a promise.

When his tongue peeks out to lick into your mouth, it’s a request you’re happy to fulfil. Eddie groans at the taste of you, the sound of it registering across your whole body. Your hips roll subtly, and you feel the quirk of his lips.

Eddie sighs into your mouth. “My pretty girl wants me to fuck her in my bed, mm?”

The increasingly familiar zing of pleasurable shame zips up your spine. The air around you shifts, crackling like the split second of awareness before an electric shock. “Yeah, Eddie.”

“But you need to be touched right now. So desperate,” he murmurs, the word that had mocked you minutes ago, now a warm tease. “So desperate you wanted to take my cock for the first time right here. In my van, parked by the side of the road.”

You shake your head, because you’re not really at the side of the road. Eddie was right when he said it’s quiet; nobody comes here. You’re about as likely to be found by the quarry as you are in his room. Eddie’s eyes light up with dark amusement, his hand drifting to the back of your neck. The pressure of his fingers there makes your hips twitch, your body recognising the signs, the promise of what’s to come when Eddie’s palm starts holding your head up.

“No?” He asks, tilting his head, a teasing pout finding his pink lips. “You sayin’ I didn’t hear your right?”

Your toes curl. “No.”

The lines that run from the sides of Eddie’s nose to the corners of his lips deepen. “No, I did hear you right?”

“Eddie,”

“Ahh, yeah,” he breathes, wrapping an arm around your waist to help you lie back. He reaches out for his jacket, still rolled up on the floor, and places it back under your head. “That’s the good stuff.” You open your legs for him, let him settle his body on top of you, feeling the hardening length of him through denim and cotton at the apex of your thighs. Eddie licks his lips, tucks his hair back with a breathy laugh. “Shit. You got me thinking about it, now.”

Eddie sinks his face to your neck, the warm sting of his tongue making the mess between your legs increasingly hard to ignore. His big hand pulls at the hem of your skirt, lifting it up to your tummy. He glances down your body, eyes closing tight at the pale blue cotton cupping your mound, dark and sticky where it’s soaked up your wetness. “Wanna feel your little pussy on my cock so fucking bad. I can’t tell you how-” He cuts off a groan at the first run of his fingers over the wet material. “Christ. How many times I’ve thought about it.”

You blink at him slowly, mind drifting into the calm of knowing Eddie’s going to make sure you both feel good. Your hips tilt naturally, helping him rub the curve of his finger over your clit through soaked cotton, then wiggling to help him more when his fingers hook into the elastic to pull them down your legs. Once they’re past your sneakers, he holds them in his hand for a second, rubbing his thumb along their centre. When you tilt your hips, pussy barely catching the rough denim over his crotch, his nostrils flare. “Don’t distract me, I’m holding precious cargo.”

He seems to settle on where to put them, draping the cotton over the top of one of the amps rather than letting them touch the floor. You giggle at his careful consideration, and Eddie’s dimples press into flushed cheeks.

“You thought about it?” Eddie asks, watching your face when his thumb sweeps over your clit, noting the sensitivity before he starts up with tight circles that have you keening. “Thought about me inside you?”

He has to feel the new wetness between your legs that comes with your desperate nod. In truth, you’ve thought about it almost endlessly. You know it can hurt, have heard enough stories of virginity loss from the girls at the cheer table to know that it probably will. But when you imagine being close to Eddie that way, the only thing you can conjure up is the feeling of his fingers inside, how much further you’d have to stretch to take Eddie’s cock, the one that makes your jaw ache. Maybe the prospect should give you pause, but thinking about how Eddie would guide you through it sends excited shivers down your spine.

“Yes, Eddie.”

“You wanna feel my cock now?” He breathes, watching confusion flicker over your blissed face. “Know you like riding your pillow, sweet thing,” he says, your face hot at the memory of telling him how you masturbate. “But I think you might like rubbing up on me a little better.”

Your clit twitches. You clench inside. Eddie either feels or sees the reaction of your body because he’s humming in excitement the next second, leaning down to kiss you, press his tongue to yours until you’re groaning into his mouth. He looks a little manic when he pulls away, hands scrambling with his belt when he throws himself to the side, lying on his back, ready for you to climb up on him.

Without thinking, your hands catch his, stopping him from pulling at the loop. You squeeze his palms. “Let me?”

In answer, he moves his hands from his jeans, letting them rest flat across his stomach. You bite your lip, fighting the urge to sit on his thigh and grind against the denim just to get some instant relief. You reach out to the side of his head, grab his jacket and slide it to the back of his head. Eddie tilts his head up, lets you position it just so. You check, “comfy?” and he nods.

Satisfied, you return to Eddie’s belt. The action of pulling at the leather is excitingly familiar to you now. The button of his jeans comes next, then his zip humming as you pull it down. His boxers are a soft check, the waistband positioned just under the first tufts of dark hair that lead to where Eddie is filling out the material. You think about his hands teasing your clit through your panties, mimicking him by brushing a knuckle over the mound peeking out from his zipper. It’s enough to make Eddie’s eyes squeeze shut, his fingers twitch.

You hook your fingers into the elastic, start pulling them down. Eddie sighs in relief when his cock meets the air, hard enough to rise from his underwear the second he’s free. You imagine the stretch of him again, and clench down on emptiness. Eddie’s cock is a pretty pink all over. The furled skin at the top is a little shiny, and you know if you grasped his cock and pulled that skin back, his head would be wet with excitement.

The thought strikes to just lean down and take him in your mouth, surprised to find that that’s already something of a comfort zone for you. But your clit throbs like it’s protesting, so you shuffle on your knees, feeling the sticky spread of your cunt when you open your legs to bracket his hips. You reach down, let yourself stroke Eddie’s cock just to hear the soft noise it draws out from his throat. You rub your thumb over that sensitive spot below his head, press his cock down until his length rests over the hair above it and the bottom of his soft tummy.

With your free hand, you drift your hand between your legs, letting your fingers drift over your clit. You make a V with your fingers at the top, splitting your cunt open for him and feel a bone deep certainty that Eddie is the only person who could watch you doing this without real shame casting its shadow.

“C’mon,” Eddie says, getting impatient. “Sit on it, use my cock how you want, just let me feel you.”

Nodding, body instinctively wanting to follow his direction, you settle yourself on his cock. Eddie groans at the warm slick that surrounds him, hands immediately moving to your hips to help guide you. Your entrance flexes at the base of him, and he tries to pull you straight down like he could find more space between your lips for his girth. “Jesus Chri-”

Eddie’s words cut off with a choke when you glide yourself forward, hearing your wetness spread along his dick. You whine at the feeling, Eddie’s cock stimulating not just your twitchy button but your soft, clenching hole. Shifting back, your legs twitch when his head, exposed as the surrounding skin is pulled back by the clasp of your lips, catches just right against your clit. A few more blissful drags, and you are whining, hands flat against Eddie’s chest, fingers pulling at the softness of his shirt.

You wiggle your hips, close to hysteria at how good it feels to have Eddie this close. Eddie grins up at you, the pride on his face making you all the more desperate. He looks overwhelmingly pretty like this, hair fanned out across his jacket, lips wet and swollen from his constant licking and your own kisses. His neck, as blushed as his face and his cock, is exposed and tense. His dark eyelashes that flutter every time his head drags over your clit and emerges from between your lips. His eyes, dark in the centre where his pupils have swallowed up mahogany, flicker back and forth between your face and where his cock vanishes and appears again, enveloped and released by the wet split of your pussy.

“You feel me now, mm?” He says, sounding hurried like he’s trying to get it out before his voice is swallowed up by groans. “Haven’t even taken three of my fingers, but you thought you could just lie back and take my cock?” You bounce a little when his head flicks your clit this time, torturing the swollen button with him a little longer. “Couldn’t’ve done it right, not how my desperate girl needs it. Just wanna make you feel good, you know?”

“Feels good,” you murmur, wiggling your hips to feel his cock flex and shift over all the tender skin where you are most sensitive. “You always feel so good, Eddie.”

“Yeah? That’s it, that’s it.” Eddie’s fingers dig into your hips, no doubt leaving you with marks that will be satisfyingly tender by morning. “Fuck. Fuck, baby, I love you-r pretty voice.” He swallows, eyes now fixed on your pleasured face. “Love when you talk to me.”

“Eddie, m’gonna-” You start to shake, and his hands grab at your hips, helping you keep moving along him even as the stimulation edges towards painful.

“That’s it, cum on me. Let me feel it.”

Your body spasms, letting yourself move only with Eddie’s pushing and pulling as the throb of your clit spreads through your body, sends tingles up your spine. You feel your clit numb for a second, know enough now about your own body what that means for the intensity of your orgasm. You sit on that precipice, gasping in air.

Pleasure bursts, has you shaking and moaning and, unbeknownst to you, repeating, “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie,” while the boy beneath you chases his own high, wanting to finish before you’re too oversensitive to keep your perfect warm pussy on him.

Bending his knees, he grinds up into you, helping you slide along him. When he pulls your hips just so, and the tip of him barely catches the soft entrance of your cunt, Eddie finally cries out beneath you. The almost violent twitch of his cock between your legs makes you squirm, picturing that happening inside you. Eddie’s cum, thick and white, lands across his stomach in droplets, the last rope clinging to the tip of his cock in a way that, shamefully, makes your mouth water.

Sensitive, twitching, you rise from his body. Your shaking thighs fail you almost immediately, and you fall back on your butt between his open legs, a hand coming to cover your stimulated pussy like it needs protection. Eddie sits up, wipes his own hand across his stomach and draws his cum into his mouth with an ease that might surprise you if you hadn’t seen Eddie casually taste his own cum just about every time he’s orgasmed in front of you.

This is what you meant, when you told May that being with Eddie is fun. Sex has always been something with disclaimers attached. Something to be enjoyed, but not too much. Something to get lost in, but not enough that you cross the line into acting slutty. It seemed to you like a tightrope nobody had shown you how to walk.

And then there’s Eddie, who just watched you cum so hard on top of him that you immediately fell on your ass, and he’s grinning at you like he’s never been so proud of anyone in his life. “Now tell me that wasn’t way better than your pillow.” He reaches out for you, and you let him pull you into his arms, rest your head against his chest. You watch, warm in your face, while he tucks his softening cock, still covered in you, back into his boxers. “You feel okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, tracing the blue lines of lightning on his shirt with your finger. Your thighs twitch again, and you laugh together, soft and breathless. You settle into that post high afterglow, letting yourself be comforted by how surrounded by Eddie you are. His arm around you, his chest under your head. You can hear the way his heartbeat shifts from an intense rhythm to a steady beat under your ear. There’s another sudden uptick just before he speaks.

“I was missing you, too.”

You shift, look up at him from his chest, find him staring at the ceiling.

“Sometimes my life has felt like being dealt one bad hand after another.” His gaze shifts then, eyes finding yours. “Now, I think, maybe I was saving up for something really good without realising.”

Eddie Munson; town freak, rumoured Satanist, bad news for sweet girls like you, on the floor of his van, arms wrapped tight around you, says; “You’re a lifetime of good luck, sweetheart.”

And then you know.

Next Part

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

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