#very loosely tie-wrapped together

[hedgehog-moss]

In previous years I've tried uprooting small fir trees in my woods to use as Christmas trees, making sure to be gentle in the process and keep as much of their root system as I could, but when I replanted them in the woods later it just never worked. The trees didn't appreciate being treated like this, so last year I didn't even try replanting my Christmas tree and just fed it to the llamas (who did appreciate.)

I meant to do the same this year, and on my to-do list this week I had "cut a Christmas tree" and "get rid of 10m2 of broom plants" (this is on my to-do list in perpetuity. They grow so rampantly, if I didn't fight back there would be no pasture left.)

^ But then after I went and cut a bunch of horrible brooms I thought, well this is absurd, I'm going to kill a perfectly nice fir tree that I have no beef with, to have something green in my living-room for Christmas, when I could humiliate my plant nemesis by festooning its slain offspring with tinsel? I mean, shrubs are green. They fit the bill. I bet with a star on top they could pass for a Christmas tree.

At first I tried to cut a tall and large broom, then poke holes in its trunk with my drill to stick smaller broom branches in there like this: \o/ to give it a rough Christmas tree shape. It didn't work. Brooms as it turns out are extremely dense and fibrous and my drill didn't like drilling into them one bit.

So I lowered my expectations, and started gathering a big bouquet of younger brooms (the only positive aspect of broom invasiveness is that I have an infinite number of shrubs to experiment on. I cut a half dozen of them to try and drill holes into them and by the time I gave up, another two dozen had grown back in their place). I tied up my broom bouquet into something vaguely reminiscent of a fir and, I mean, with a star, it sort of looks the part?

I had to do the tying-up part several times, because the pretty and festive golden string I initially used was too weak. This bouquet of broom branches may look placid and easygoing in photographs, but when tied together tightly, it is determined to free itself.

But I managed to tame it using hay bale string. It didn't look happy with its fate, but I mean, it's a broom shrub. Its only ambition in life is to conquer as much pasture territory as possible and add it to its broom empire. It does not want to be a decorative plant in a living-room.

Take any historical figure who was mainly known as a ruthless conqueror and try to picture turning him into a Christmas tree. He won't look happy about it.

I ended up making two Christmas Brooms, one for the greenhouse and one for my living-room. The greenhouse one was originally meant for the living-room, but it was made up of particularly obstinate Pampe-like branches and I was worried one of my cats would poke it and the "tree" would suddenly break its chains in an explosion of vegetal triumph and traumatise the cat.

It may look like a peaceful Christmas Yew in the below pic, but don't underestimate its very strong desire to free itself from even the tough hay bale string, which forced me to use my garlands to tie it up some more, wrapping them around the "tree" less loosely and festively than usual. But I put my biggest star on top and that means it looks like a Christmas tree. A Christmas tree with a restraining order.

This tree is held together with tinsel, threats, and Christmas magic.

In the dark and from afar you really can't tell it's a bunch of unruly invasive shrubs tied together <3 And here's the much thinner and therefore less angry version in my living-room:

It was tilting to the left somewhat worryingly so I put a heavy stuffed hedgehog at the bottom to stabilise it, and a mountain goat at the top to dissuade it. All hands on deck. They both look somewhat petrified, like they are begging the faux-tree to remain a tree for the duration of the holidays...

Thus ends my Christmas Broom journey. It was a bit of a pain to set up but at least an innocent fir out there got to escape a grim fate (devoured by llamas), and a small gang of invasive shrubs get to be looked at with approval and joy for the first time in their life. It's a win-win.

#crawling along

[eiightysixbaby]

personal jesus

word count: 8.6k

pairing: stripper!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: your friends take you out to a strip club for your birthday, and you really hit it off with one particular stripper….

cw: 18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI. mentions of alcohol consumption, billy is in this fic (I promise he’s not in it for very long it just makes perfect sense for him to be a stripper OKAY 😭) lap dances, depictions of sensual dancing/strip routines, oral (m & f receiving), very brief mention of spanking, spit kink, unprotected piv, creampie

author’s note: well. I’ve been working on this for a while now and I’m extremely happy that it’s finally ready to be shared! I highly recommend listening to personal jesus by depeche mode while you read this, considering the entire idea for this came to me while listening to that song! I hope you all enjoy, I put a lot of time into this and I hope it shows.

It’s your birthday. A day to celebrate you turning another year older. Another year closer to death, and another year painfully single and alone.

Okay, so you were being dramatic. Turning 25 doesn’t exactly make you geriatric, but seeing the people close to you hit milestones in their relationships had you feeling a little insecure on this particular birthday. Nancy was engaged, Robin and Vickie just celebrated their 3 year anniversary of dating, Chrissy and Steve had finally made things official a month ago and were sickeningly cute together. It just had you longing for a connection.

You’d had horrible luck with guys lately, and it was weighing on you. You wanted someone special to spend your day with, someone to hold you at night and stick by you forever. Or, at this point, you were even okay with just having a little fun. Any sort of male attention was fine with you, wanting to end the drought you’d been experiencing.

So, it was only natural that the girls decided to take you to a strip club this evening. The car pulls up to the door of the seedy looking building, everything very discreet from the outside. You’re wearing a shimmery silver dress with very thin straps, the fabric stopping above your mid thigh. Sheer black tights with tiny sequins adorn your legs, accompanied by silver heels with straps that you wrap around your lower legs and tie. You step out of your Uber and into the parking lot, heels clicking on the pavement. Here goes nothing.

You pull the door open, being greeted by a rush of blasting air conditioning, and the strong smell of alcohol and cologne. You see all of your friends at a table close to the stage at the center of the floor, and they immediately turn and wave at you. You prance over to them eagerly, receiving hugs from all of them along with shrill ‘Happy Birthday!’s. Robin immediately pulls out a sparkly sash that reads ‘Birthday Girl’ and throws it over your head, letting it rest diagonally across your body. Her and Vickie had actually come up with this idea for tonight, knowing it would be fun for you to let loose a little. You all start to catch up with one another, diving into the latest gossip and life updates.

Conversation lulls briefly, Chrissy taking this as her opportunity to pull out a tray of homemade cupcakes from their hiding spot under her chair, Nancy sticking candles in each one.

“Guys, do we really have to sing?” you groan, smiling despite your reluctance.

“Yes! We have to sing you happy birthday!” Chrissy insists, her delicate hands grabbing your forearms gently and squeezing. “You’re 25! This is exciting!!”

Nancy’s hands hold a small lighter, fingers cupping around each candle as she lights them individually. The diamond on her ring finger glistens in the lights of the club, catching your eye. You snap yourself out of the self-deprecating thoughts before they can even start, remembering where you are and how tonight is about you. Once every candle is lit, the girls gather close around the table, singing happy birthday to you rather loudly and theatrically. You’re a flustered mess as you giggle at them, blowing out your candles swiftly after they finish. They all clap and cheer, Vickie passing cupcakes around on small plates to everyone. You order a drink, your personal favorite, deciding you need to catch up with your friends who already have their beverages.

The lights in the club dim as you take a bite into your cupcake, strawberry icing greeting your tongue. A spotlight shines on the curtain at the back of the stage, and several whoops and hollers erupt from club patrons, including you and your friends. Your drink is placed in front of you by a server, and you take a sip, letting the alcohol sear your mouth. An electric buzz runs through you as the first sip travels down your throat, and the house music cuts. A new song begins and your heart starts racing. As excited as you were, you’d never been to a strip club before, and you felt your cheeks grow hot in anticipation.

The song that plays is ‘Pony’ by Ginuwine, you recognize it instantly. As cliche of a choice as it might be, you can’t pretend like it isn’t the perfect song for something like this.

The curtains flutter and a male figure appears, your head whipping in his direction in an instant. You can’t deny, he’s gorgeous. Big blue eyes, curly caramel hair styled into a mullet, but it totally works on him. His teeth are perfect, and his body, oh his body. He’s wearing leather pants and a white button up shirt. Most of the buttons are undone, exposing his muscular chest. The sleeves of the shirt are rolled up to his elbows, and you can tell his biceps are begging to break out of the fabric. He has a black bowtie snug around his neck, and for some reason it makes him all the more attractive. The crowd cheers as he parades around the stage, holding his arms out in greeting as he walks the perimeter. He makes a show of undoing the last few buttons on his shirt, fingers slowly popping them out one by one. You and your friends cheer excitedly, all of you in fits of eager giggles.

“This one is Billy,” Robin leans in and whispers to you. “I was informed there’d be three performers tonight, and based on the stars in your eyes we’re off to a great start,” she teases you, and you swat her away with a laugh, eyes still trained on the stripper, who you now know to be named Billy.

He trails his hand down his bare chest slowly, grinding his hips into his hand when it hovers over his crotch. You’re practically swooning in your seat and based on the wolf whistles erupting from women around you, you’re not the only one. He takes his shirt off fully, throwing it into the crowd haphazardly. He parades around a little bit more, showing off that spectacular body, before he stills and the lights change color. The song starts to fade out, fading into a different one.

‘Closer’ by Nine Inch Nails begins to play through the speakers, and you notice movement behind the black curtain once more. Another man steps out, a striking contrast to Billy. He’s lankier, very thin, and his energy is far more submissive. It’s attractive all the same, and your eyes turn their focus to him. He has a head of shaggy brown hair and bangs that fall in his light brown eyes. His arms and chest aren’t as toned as Billy’s, but it works for him. He’s also wearing the black leather pants and white button up that Billy came out in, finished off with the same black bowtie. He commands the room better than you’d have expected him to, kneeling on the floor of the stage, leaning back on one hand as he rolls his hips upwards. He moves fluidly, and the way his hand glides down to grab his dick beneath his pants makes you sweat.

“Who- who’s that one?” you ask the table, leaning into their personal space a bit too far - but you’ll blame the alcohol.

“Jonathan,” Vickie smiles, and you’re impressed that they seemingly did their research before coming here tonight.

Jonathan and Billy both walk to the end of the stage, right in front of your table, and they both catch the sash you’re wearing. They wink at you, somehow in unison although it couldn’t have been planned, merely a glorious coincidence, and you give a flirtatious little wave in their direction. Jonathan shrugs his shirt off of his shoulders, throwing it in the opposite direction of the crowd as Billy had thrown his. It’s funny, but until now you didn’t even take note of the shiny metal poles fixed to the stage. Each man positions himself at one, and your eyes are transfixed on them. You can’t wrap your head around the way the two of them spin on the poles, how strong they must be to support their bodies like that. Billy has toned arms and a defined chest, so he fits the type, but Jonathan… you wouldn’t have expected this sort of strength from him. You’re absolutely entranced watching them move, and you don’t know how much time has passed before the music starts to fade again and the lights dim.

Various whoops and hollers erupt once more, wolf-whistles and claps of hands, and you can only assume whoever’s about to come out next is the crowd favorite. You chew on your lip in anticipation, watching as Billy and Jonathan simply walk back towards the curtain, standing in front of it unmoving. The previous song has completely faded out, the room dead silent for the first time since you got here. It only lasts a moment, though, before a new song announces itself over the speakers, without warning.

Reach out and touch faith.

‘Personal Jesus’ by Depeche Mode, it’s not a hard one to clock after that opening line. The curtains open in the dark, a spotlight coming on to illuminate the new figure. Your jaw drops when you see him, luckily catching yourself before your drink falls from your hand. You don’t need any more explanation as to why he’s the fan favorite stripper. He’s gorgeous - long brown curls cascading over his shoulders, a sheet of wavy bangs falling just above his eyes. He has a silver lip ring, and a piece of black jewelry in his left eyebrow. He glides his tongue along his top row of teeth in a smug open-mouthed chuckle, knowing the effect he has on the room. He wears the same leather pants, but he has a black button-up shirt on in place of the white ones the other two men were wearing. The way he moves in perfect time with this song makes you believe he must have lots of practice - this is his song and he’s making that clear. He walks easily to the end of the stage, stopping right in front of your table. He unbuttons his shirt in the most sensual fashion you think you’ve ever seen, nimble fingers drawing out every movement, making it take longer than it truly needs to. You can’t help but giggle when Billy and Jonathan come to his sides, pulling the garment off of him. The shirt gets tossed directly at you, the glowing birthday girl, and you gasp in surprise.

“And this one,” Nancy leans in close to your ear, “-is Eddie,” she winks at you, your hands clutching the shirt as you stare up at the man on the stage.

He’s even more glorious with his shirt off, his body littered with tattoos that you think you might want to lick. He has a tie around his neck, not a bowtie but a standard tie, and he tugs on it with force, dropping himself to his knees as if yanked by a leash. His eyes meet yours, unwavering as he watches you. Deep pools of brown that you feel like you could drown in. He lowers his torso to the ground, reaching a hand out and closing his fingers maybe two feet from your face, as if grabbing something.

Reach out and touch faith.

He’s grinding against the floor now, Billy and Jonathan entertaining different groups in the crowd from different sides of the stage. Eddie leans back on his heels, rolling his hips up into the air, one hand tugging on that damn tie and the other gliding slowly down his body. He grips his crotch, the shiny silver rings that adorn his fingers glistening from the bright lights above. You think you see Chrissy literally swoon beside you, and even Nancy’s biting her lip, cheeks flushed pink. Robin and Vickie are slack-jawed - impressed with the way these three guys know how to command the attention of a room. Your heart pounds in your chest with every rumble of the bass over the blaring speakers, your brain melting into a euphoric feeling.

Just as you think you’re able to catch your breath, Eddie jumps down from the stage. Oh god. He approaches you, standing with his legs apart, leaving room for your legs to rest between his. He bends down to your ear, one hand gripping the back of your chair.

“Think the birthday girl deserves a special show, hm?” he rasps into your ear, and you feel your skin grow hot.

His hips roll in front of your face, you’re eye-level with his crotch. Your skin feels white-hot, you know all the attention in the room must be on this scene and you’re both flattered and a little shy. You have to refrain from reaching out to Eddie, have to refrain from letting your fingers glide up his stomach, feel him. As if reading your mind, though, he grabs your hands, sliding them up his stomach and chest, encouraging you. You’re so taken with him you don’t register that the other two strippers have joined him until Billy’s murmuring in your ear from behind you.

“Happy Birthday, sweetheart,” his honey voice drawls, hands resting on one of your shoulders.

Jonathan comes to stand behind you as well, and in his hand is a shot of whatever liquor the girls had ordered for you. He holds it where you can see it, your head tilted back to look at him. He gives you a smile - one that momentarily shatters the raunchy stripper vibe and reveals his true kindness. He quirks an eyebrow, waiting for you.

“Open,” Eddie says, smirking down at you while he resumes in giving you a lap dance, his hips grinding lower over your lap now. He’s as close as he can be without pressing his full weight on you.

Lift up the receiver, I’ll make you a believer

Your lips part, your whole body vibrating as Jonathan tips the shot glass down towards your mouth. The liquid falls in a single stream onto your tongue, and you swallow it in one go.

“Mmm, she knows how to swallow,” Eddie purrs, and you feel your face heat up under his intense stare.

You can only imagine the looks on your friends’ faces, but you hear their cheers for you along with the rustling of dollar bills that you can only assume are being shoved in the guys’ pants. Jonathan and Billy turn to head back on stage, but not before turning back to get one last eyeful of you. You blow kisses at them, giggling when they pretend to catch them. Eddie’s still focused on you, still invading your personal space. You’re squeezing your thighs together beneath your tight little dress, looking right into his eyes as he laughs to himself. He stands, walking around your chair slowly. Your left hand slips bills into his tight pants, your fingers lingering just a moment too long. Feeling a little bold, you grab his tie with your other hand and tug on it playfully, almost catching him off guard but he steels himself. He quirks an eyebrow at you, now standing behind you. He bends down, gravelly voice rumbling in your ear.

“You have no idea what that does to me, sweetheart.”

Your own personal Jesus

Eddie’s lips nearly touch your earlobe as he speaks. The way his breath makes your skin tingle can only be described as a religious experience. Ringed fingers caress your arm before he picks up your hand, placing a kiss to the back of your palm. He teasingly bites one of your fingers, flustering you for probably the millionth time tonight. He finally retreats, mouthing one last ‘happy birthday’ as he returns to the stage. He’s not done with his show though, joining his costars for a little bit of action on the pole that waits for him. His leather pants squeeze his ass so tight, you hope you’re not drooling as you watch him. You suddenly wish he was back on your lap, murmuring filthy things into your ear, fucking you senseless. But you can’t hook up with the stripper, you remind yourself, and you try to wave the thoughts away as you watch the rest of his little performance.

There’s no denying the way he locks eyes with you any moment he can, strong limbs wrapping around the pole as he seems to effortlessly spin a little. Chrissy reaches out to touch your arm, giggling excitedly.

“He can’t stop looking at you, ohmygosh!” she squeaks, pulling her lip between her teeth as you meet Eddie’s eyes once more, as if to confirm her statement.

“Where do I inquire about adopting a stripper?” Robin asks jokingly. “Yeah, um, I’d like to take that one home please… and can we wrap him in a pretty bow?” she says, pretending like she’s talking on the phone to someone important. “Seriously, I think he likes you,” she says to you, tone serious once more.

“Guys, come on. Do you know how many girls he probably does this same exact routine to?” you say, waving a hand dismissively and trying to be lighthearted, but you can’t deny the sting in your chest when you say the words.

Eddie is a stripper. This is a routine - a money maker. It’s all just a calculated game to him. He probably treats every other birthday girl the same way he treated you. Your mouth feels dry suddenly, and you throw back another shot to hopefully drown out the incoming sadness. Even if it’s a routine, it doesn’t make him any less hot, and it doesn’t mean you still can’t have fun, you think to yourself. You focus your eyes back up at the three gorgeous men on stage, watch as they move in unison, gyrating and touching their bodies and each others’ bodies. Cash is being thrown to the stage around them, raining down as the lights flash and pulse. Eddie keeps catching your eyes, winking at you for good measure. The alcohol in your system enhances the effect he has on you. He’s so close to you yet so far, you want to grab a hold of him and pull him to you.

Reach out and touch faith

The song comes to a steady close, music fading as the guys all bow and blow kisses and wave. You and your friends are all clapping and cheering with giddy delight, your head a wonderful swirl of explicit thoughts. They slip back behind the curtain, one by one, and your heart pangs for a moment when Eddie gives one last pointed wave in the direction of your table before disappearing behind the black velvet.

“Oh. My. God!” Chrissy’s mouth is agape, her lips shiny from her sparkly lipgloss. She fans herself, mock-fainting back into her chair, making the whole table laugh. You must sound like a bunch of schoolgirls, blushing and fussing over a few pretty boys.

“So, like, we’re not gonna drop the fact that Eddie is totally in love with you, right?” Robin asks, turning her body to face you.

You roll your eyes, fingers pressing into her arm as you shove her oh-so-gently. “Stoooop. He is not in love with me,” you say, biting on your lip to hold back a smile.

“You can’t even say that with a straight face! You, at least, are in love with him,” she says matter of factly, nodding her head once with finality.

“I am not!” you meekly defend, taking a bite of another cupcake to avoid talking more.

“Oh come on, babe, you’re not fooling me. I’m not into the guys, I was just watching for your reactions the whole time. You are sooo crazy for him,” she laughs, Vickie nodding along as she talks.

You feel your cheeks heat to an impossible temperature, shaking your head incessantly as you continue to devour your dessert.

“Hey, at least he gave you a little souvenir,” Nancy says, nodding towards the shirt that he’d thrown at you, which now rests on the table top. You’d nearly forgotten about it. The fact that it was once on his gorgeous body, and now you have it, makes your head spin.

The topic of conversation eventually shifts, easing the pressure on you to answer their every question about Eddie. Your thoughts, however, linger on him. You were totally fucking into him, and you’re screwed. All he was doing was acting out a routine, probably something he does for every birthday girl or bachelorette that steps foot in here and has money to offer. That fact didn’t stop you from wanting him, though, your mind wandering to how it would feel to have those rings of his pressed deep inside of you, his lip ring cold against your mouth and the skin of your neck.

“Hello? Anybody home in there? Did you have too much to drink? Oh my god, are we gonna have to take you to the hospital on your twenty-fifth birthday?” Robin’s voice breaks you from your trance, your eyes widening in realization that you’d totally drifted off to outer space for a minute there.

“What? Oh god, no. I’m fine, sorry, just zoned out a bit,” you give them a reassuring smile, not wanting them to press you again about the too-attractive men that were all over you tonight.

“No worries, we were saying we were probably gonna get going, it’s pretty late,” Vickie jumps in, sticking out her thumb and motioning towards the door.

“Oh, yeah, of course! I’m getting tired anyways,” you affirm, moving to stand with the rest of the table.

You bid your friends goodbye, giving each of them a hug and thanking them for setting this outing up for you. You decide to hit the bathroom before you leave, declining Nancy’s offer of a ride home, so they all go on without you. You make your usual promises to text them soon and plan another get together before they leave you, stepping out into the cool night and going home.

Entering the bathroom, you find that you’re alone, much to your relief. You stare at yourself in the mirror, genuinely enjoying your appearance tonight. You wonder if Eddie thought you looked good, too. You let yourself wonder if he truly was interested in you like your friends were insisting. Sighing, you sit down on the toilet, pressing your palms to your cheeks and tugging the skin down frustratedly. You wish you’d been in a setting where you could’ve asked Eddie for his number or something, or even just actually had the chance to talk to him, to hold a conversation.

You’re lost in your thoughts as you finish up in the bathroom, making your way towards the door to leave. The chill of the air conditioning suddenly feels too cold, giving you goosebumps, and you quickly throw on the shirt Eddie had given you to keep yourself warmer. It’s the only cover-up you have, so, what else could you do? You totally don’t think about how it smells like him as you approach the exit. Your palm presses against the glass door, heaving it open in front of you. Heels step onto pavement, your eyes searching your bag to ensure you have everything. But as you’re looking, you bump into another figure.

“Oh shit! I’m sor-” you go to say, but the words evaporate into thin air when you see who you’d run into.

His leather jacket covers his arms and torso, dark brown curls draped over his shoulders. He has a cigarette dangling from his full pink lips, and a silver lip ring catches the light from the parking lot lamps for just a moment as he turns. Deep brown eyes meet yours, a soft expression on them. He recognizes you instantly, of course.

“Oh, hey, sweetheart. I’m sorry, I should’ve been paying more attention,” he apologizes sincerely, eyes raking over your frame, but not in a way that makes you feel small or uncomfortable.

“No, that’s my fault too. Sorry,” you admit, looking down at your high-heeled feet. You’re suddenly shy, and you wish you had some more liquid courage to down right about now.

“I’m Eddie, by the way. If you didn’t catch it earlier,” he says, holding a hand out for you to shake.

“Y/N,” you tell him your name, taking his hand in your far softer grip, bouncing them once in a greeting.

“Nice shirt,” he says, eyeing the black button down that rests loosely on your body.

“O-oh! Did you want it back?” you ask, embarrassment creeping up your spine. He wasn’t supposed to see you in his shirt, it was just to keep you warm until you could get home and change. Your eyes look towards the ground, suddenly too shy to look at him even though he’d quite literally been grinding on you an hour ago.

“Keep it,” he says, smiling brilliantly at you. “Looks better on you, anyways.”

“Thank you,” you say, voice impossibly quiet. A small smile tugs on the corners of your lips. Why is your heart pounding so hard?

“You don’t have to be nervous around me, sweetheart,” he continues as if reading your thoughts, and his deep syrupy voice is reassuring as he places a gentle hand on your arm. “Promise I don’t bite…. unless you want me to,” he says, giving you a cute little smirk.

You tug your bottom lip between your teeth, holding back a giggle. You scrape the toe of your shoe on the concrete absentmindedly, looking down at it as Eddie watches you.

“Did y’have a nice birthday?” he asks coolly, his index and middle finger delicately holding the cigarette at his side as he leans against the wall of the building.

You feel your cheeks heat, and you curl your lips inward to hide your smile a little. “I had a great birthday,” you say finally. You shove your nerves down, reminding yourself of the way he was all over you before. Maybe your friends were right, maybe he really is into you.

You feel like the universe is giving you a chance here, giving you an opportunity to talk to Eddie one-on-one like you’d wanted. Better not fuck it up, you think as you prepare your next words. “There was this really hot stripper that made the day so much better…” you trail off, shyness still evident but feeling more confident under the way he eyes you up.

“Oh? Tell me more about him,” Eddie says, stepping ever so slightly closer to you.

“Well, he’s tall and muscular and so handsome, and he has really sexy tattoos…” you say, flashing him a brilliant smile as he watches you through hooded eyes, “and he just made me feel so special, and it’s such a shame I couldn’t get his number or anything…..” you sigh exaggeratedly, your doe eyes looking up at him.

Eddie smiles, and you swear it looks shy, like he isn’t used to the compliments or the attention. Like he doesn’t do what he does for a living.

“Well, I’ll have you know there was this girl… I hear it’s her birthday, actually, and she just made my shift so much better than it could have been,” he rambles. “She was just the prettiest thing,” he says, not breaking your gaze as he does.

“Oh, yeah?” you reply, tilting your chin up to him.

“Yeah,” he says softly, looking down the bridge of his nose at you. “And I think I can do her one better than just giving her my number,” he murmurs, pulling you against his chest.

“What did you have in mind?” you ask, half-lidded eyes flitting from his lips to his eyes and back down again. He purses his lips in a smirk, stomping his cigarette out with the toe of his shoe.

“Why don’t you come back to my place and I’ll show you?”

“Hm. That depends. You’re not a serial killer, are you?” you ask, teasing.

“Oh, shoot, sweetheart. You caught me,” Eddie says, holding his hands over his eyes and peering through his fingers.

You laugh, and he thinks about how he’d like to hear that sound a lot more. He reaches a hand out for you to take, nodding down at it. “Whaddya say? Care to join me?” he asks, and you meet his eyes as he peers through his bangs at you.

His open hand waits, silver rings catching the fluorescent light from the lamps in the parking lot. It beckons you, asking you to take it. The song from earlier rings in your head.

Reach out and touch faith

You take his hand, lacing your fingers with his. “Lead the way, handsome.”

Eddie’s vehicle is nice, extremely nice, actually. It’s a black Jeep, black leather seats with red details and stitching. The money he makes at the club clearly pays off, you suppose. Hell, you’d seen how much cash he’d been thrown tonight alone - including what you’d contributed. He has a pair of red fuzzy dice that hang from the mirror, and you can’t help but laugh to yourself as you swat them once, making them sway where they hang.

“Are you laughing at my dice, sweetheart?” he asks, shuffling into his own seat.

“Oh, no. I’d never,” you say, biting back a smile.

His sparkling eyes don’t leave yours, pulling you in, refusing to let you go. You notice his tongue dart out to wet his lips, notice the way he leans ever so slightly towards you. The tension in the closed space suddenly grows palpable, like you could slice it with your fingernail if you reached out.

You don’t make it to Eddie’s place. You don’t even make it out of the parking lot.

You’re the one to close the distance between the two of you, leaning over the center console of the car to press your lips to his. He grunts in pleasant surprise, his hands finding their way to your cheeks as he deepens the kiss. Your heart is racing, thoughts going a mile a minute as you process the fact that this is really happening. You can feel the metal of the ring adorning his bottom lip as your mouth glides against his, the jewelry not getting in the way but remaining noticeable. His tongue doesn’t ask for permission, just slides its way past your parted lips. It mingles with yours, swapping spit back and forth in a heated encounter. You bite his bottom lip and tug, toying with the metal ring with your teeth. He whines, pulling away from you the slightest bit, eyes half lidded as he jerks his head to the side, motioning to the backseat.

“Get in the back,” he pants, “need you right here, right now.”

You oblige, opting to get out of the car and actually go in through the back door rather than climbing ungracefully over your seat. Eddie follows suit, crawling towards you like an animal stalking its prey, not satisfied till his face hovers over yours, his mouth dipping down to meet your soft lips. He captures them briefly before pulling away again, moving down further to press kisses to your jawline, your neck, your collarbone. You feel his tongue and teeth against the skin, biting, sucking, licking. You whimper beneath him, raising your hips to brush against his. The chuckle that leaves his mouth sends a shiver down your spine, one of his strong hands coming down to push your hips firmly against the seat.

“Such a needy thing, hm?” he tuts, looking up at you with those big doe eyes before he resumes kissing your neck.

His hand holds you in place like it’s easy work, keeping you still when your body tries to writhe beneath him. The smell of his cologne fills your nose, intoxicating as you breathe it in along with the whisper of cigarette smoke from the one he’d had mere minutes ago. The chain around his neck dangles low, the guitar pick pendant brushing the dip between your breasts that your dress leaves partially exposed.

You remember the way he teased you inside the club, remember the way he let you tug on his tie, the way his hips gyrated above your lap. You grow wetter at the memories, more than ready to actually get to have him now. You pull his shirt off of your shoulders, playfully tossing it at him, mimicking the way he’d tossed it at you. His eyes go wide at it, a hand pressing to his forehead as he pretends to swoon, making you laugh. The shirt gets discarded to the floor, Eddie leaning back over your frame. He shoves the neckline of your dress down, freeing your tits for him. You went braless tonight and you’re thanking yourself for it, the ease with which he takes one of your peaked nipples into his mouth sending you reeling. He sucks on one, then the other, his hand always toying with the mound of flesh that isn’t currently being entertained by his tongue.

“Eddie,” you whine, arching your chest further into his touch.

“What is it, baby?” he purrs, the hand on your hip now skirting down your thigh, reaching the hem of your dress and hiking the fabric upwards.

“Please,” you reply breathlessly, not begging for anything specific but just for more.

He looks at you, leaning back on his calves, hands raking over your thighs as he slides back.

“Look how pretty you are,” he muses, eyes trained on the lace between your thighs. Your dress is pushed up so far, leaving you almost entirely exposed.

He presses his thumb over your clit, just a thin excuse for fabric separating his skin from yours. You suck in a sharp breath, bucking your hips slightly into his touch.

“Oh, she wants me to touch her so bad, huh?” he teases, finger stroking over the growing wet patch on your underwear.

“Please,” you whine again, gasping when Eddie hooks a finger into your panties, yanking them down.

His big hands delicately take your heels off of your feet, setting them on the floor of his car. He tugs your panties completely off of your legs then, letting them land wherever he tosses them. His leather jacket comes off as well, being thrown into the front seat. His black t-shirt hugs his biceps well, the fabric clinging to his body in a way that makes him so much more enticing.

He swipes a finger up through your folds, collecting your slick before bringing said finger to his mouth. He sucks on it, tasting what he can of you and moaning. You’re awestruck watching him, feeling like your heart is going to beat out of your chest when his eyes meet yours, dark and needy. He crouches down swiftly, settling himself so his face is right in front of your waiting pussy. His tongue sticks out, licking up your folds in the same pattern his finger had just followed. You cry out in pleasant surprise as he begins eating your cunt, a present perfectly unwrapped just for him. He presses his tongue inside of you, velvety muscle tasting every inch of you.

His hands grip your thighs, holding your legs open for him. Dark brown eyes look up to meet yours, and the sight is unholy. The way his lips attach to your clit and suck, the way he purposefully makes a show of dragging his tongue through your puffy, swollen lips, never once breaking eye contact. It makes you want to worship him, a divine presence for you to praise.

Someone to hear your prayers, someone who cares

“Eddie…” you whine, screwing your eyes shut when his tongue flicks faster over your clit.

He simply hums in response, a pleased noise that vibrates against your core. He knows what he’s doing to you, he can tell by the way you whimper and writhe beneath him. His tongue stays focused on your clit as he brings two fingers to your entrance, slipping them easily inside of you. You gasp, tugging on his hair in desperation. He groans, a deep, throaty noise that catches you by surprise.

“Keep fuckin’ pulling my hair, sweetheart,” he murmurs against your wet heat. “Wanna know how good ‘m makin’ you feel.”

Your back arches into his touch when he curls those fingers inside of you, perfect pink lips still pursed around your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your orgasm is quickly approaching, tension building and building in the pit of your stomach the more he winds you up.

“Eddie, I- I’m gonna-” you pant, fingers still entwined in his curls, eliciting more pleased sounds from him.

His fingers only move quicker in response, curling inside of you and bringing you right to the edge, letting you plummet into bliss. You clench around him, squeezing his fingers over and over as he works you through your high. You jerk your hips, suddenly overstimulated, and Eddie takes the hint. He removes his fingers, his mouth unlatching from your sensitive clit.

“You taste so fucking good, baby,” he grins, flashing those perfect white teeth at you.

You flush, scrunching your face in embarrassment before he leans down to kiss you again. You can taste yourself on him, and it makes you throb. You suck lightly on his tongue, letting out a breathy laugh when he grinds his hips against you in response.

“Fuck, angel, need to be inside you…” he murmurs, mouth pressing kisses to the shell of your ear.

“Mmm, not yet,” you reply, capturing his lips in another quick kiss. “If I don’t have my mouth on you in the next five minutes I’m not gonna survive,” you purr, mouthing at his jaw, sucking the supple skin of his neck.

He groans, raspy and deep, letting you mark him as your fingers make quick work of the button and zipper of his tight jeans. His erect cock hangs heavy in the thin fabric of his boxers, finally letting you gauge how big he is. You swallow, hand wrapping around the outline of his cock and squeezing. Eddie inhales sharply, dropping his head to rest on your chest. His arms tense as he props himself up, his resolve threatening to crumble with the way your thumb teases his tip through cotton fabric. You can feel the pre-cum leaking from him, sticky strings of it attaching to the pad of your finger as you tease.

“Baby, mmmmfuck,” he moans, looking back up at you with pleading eyes.

“Sit back,” you instruct him, removing your hand from his bulge. “Let me take care of you.”

He just about combusts when you clamber to the floor of the spacious back seat, tugging his boxers from around the taper of his hips. You let them drop to his ankles, pooling around his shoes. His cock springs free in front of you, heavy and leaking for you. The trimmed patch of hair at the base has your mouth watering, his balls hanging beneath like the perfect temptation. You open your mouth, making a show of sticking your tongue out as you tap the tip of his cock against it. You give teasing licks across the head, lapping up the pre-cum and tasting him properly.

He whines above you, his head thrown back and the veins in his neck pulsing. His previously cocky demeanor is gone in this moment, giving in completely to how desperate he is for you. It seems to be a give and take, both of you worshiping each other like the holiest entities.

You take him fully past your lips, saliva pooling beneath your tongue. You bob your head, coating him with your spit. The girth of him stretches your mouth uncomfortably, and you move slowly as you adjust to taking him. One of his hands flies down to your hair, gripping it to give himself some sort of leverage.

The sight of you on your knees for him, tits hanging free on your chest and your perfect lips sucking him right in has him feeling like he could melt into the seats of his car. Your big doe eyes peer up at him, feeling like a shot to the fucking heart.

“God, baby, your mouth feels like fucking heaven,” he praises, watching himself disappear into your perfect mouth.

You hum in satisfaction, picking up your pace. You take him until his head hits the back of your throat, making your throat restrict as you gag around him. The whine that comes out of him is sinful, there’s no other word to describe it, and it has you pressing your thighs together for some relief to your core that already aches for him again. His modest muscles strain against the tight fabric of his t-shirt, every inch of his body trying to maintain composure and failing. You grip his balls with one hand, holding the base of his shaft with the other. You pump his cock in your fist in tandem with how your mouth bobs on his length, other hand squeezing the squishy flesh of his balls simultaneously. He almost jumps off the seat his hips buck so hard, forcing another gag from you as his cock hits your throat again.

Your nose brushes the curly hair on his pubic bone, and you take a deep breath as you pull your mouth off of him, regaining your control. You continue what you’d been doing, both of your hands and your mouth working him closer and closer to release. Strings of curse words leave his perfect parted lips, the hand in your hair guiding the movements of your head ever so slightly.

“Babybabybaby,” he rushes out, a strangled groan escaping with the words. “Don’t wanna - fuck - don’t wanna cum yet. Need to fuck you, pretty girl,” he says, his chest heaving as he catches his breath.

You press soft kisses to the head of his cock, the skin still flushed a darker shade of pink, ready and waiting to be inside of you. He pulls you up onto his lap, hands immediately cupping your breasts and squeezing as he presses a rough kiss to your lips. Your dress remains bunched up at your middle, your glistening pussy rubbing right against Eddie’s cock, sending shockwaves through your entire body.

Eddie stops the slow rocking of your hips suddenly, as if startled.

“What’s wrong?” you urge, meeting his eyes that hold a guilty expression.

“I totally don’t have condoms…” he says sheepishly, biting his lip.

“Oh - I mean, we don’t need to use one, if you’re okay with that. I’m on the pill and I - I’m clean, and stuff,” you ramble, wondering why you’re finding it so fucking hard to get words out now.

“I’m clean too. Promise. I, uh, don’t exactly do this often,” he looks at you shyly, the demeanor unfitting for him. The confession that he doesn’t do this often admittedly makes your heart swell, all of those nervous thoughts you’d had about him earlier, about being part of a routine, washing away gradually. “But if you’d rather we don’t, it can wait till next time,” he continues.

“Next time?” you ask, cocking an eyebrow at him.

“Y-yeah. I mean, I mean if you want to see me again after thi-” you cut off his nervous stammering with a firm kiss, your fingers cupping his chin as you claim his mouth with yours. His nervousness makes him so much less intimidating, taking him down from being this larger-than-life entity, an unobtainable stripper who sees attractive women every night, to just being… a regular guy. A cute, sweet, charming guy who’s also insanely sexy.

Pulling away, he smiles lazily at you, kiss-drunk and awestruck. “Yes I want to see you again. And yes I want you to fuck me, right here right now,” you reassure him, your sultry gaze enough to make him do anything you could ask of him.

“Fucking deal, babe,” he says, pulling his shirt over his head, exposing his chest to you. His tattoos are on full display, and your eyes rake over him, your cunt pulsing with all of your filthy thoughts. He smirks at you, clearly liking the way you drink him in, biting his lip as you raise your hips slightly so he can position his cock at your entrance.

You sink down onto him without a warning, the two of you gasping in unison. You grip his shoulders for leverage, the stretch to fit him slightly uncomfortable despite your extreme arousal. You work yourself down, down, down, slowly until you’re fully seated on him. He sits heavy and thick inside of you, making you ache with an enticing kind of soreness. Your walls flutter slightly around him as you wiggle your hips around, getting used to the feel of him. His hands grip your hips, his lips parted and his eyes screwed shut as you start to find your bearings on top of him. You dip your head down, rolling your hips on him as you suck a brutal hickey into the column of his throat. Your teeth gnash at soft skin, tongue soothing the sting afterwards. A low growl escapes him, fingers squeezing your doughy flesh as he starts to rut himself into your soaked cunt.

Breathy moans leave your lips, your jaw hanging open as he fucks into you faster. Your tits bounce in front of his face, and he wants to take them into his mouth and stay latched on forever. Perfect swells of skin, all for him to touch and kiss and suck. His hands grip the soft globes of your ass as his mouth sucks the skin of your chest, making you moan when his fingers squeeze hard.

You’re so fucking full of him you feel delirious, the head of his cock kissing your cervix with every deep stroke he delivers to you. His name is tumbling from your mouth in a rhythmic pattern, over and over, like a prayer. You really can’t get that damn song out of your head from before, and it makes so much sense why he chose it to be his.

Your own personal Jesus

You want to praise Eddie right beneath the roof of his Jeep. Want to shout his name from the rooftops, make the whole world know how good he’s fucking you right now. You want to follow every word he says, every command he gives you. You want to pray to him every night before you go to bed, you just want to worship him. The way his fingers dig into your skin and the way his lips suck on your neck make you feel like you’re being worshipped, too. He sucks and squeezes and fucks like this may be his last opportunity to, like he’s savoring every possible bit of you and committing you to permanent memory.

You bounce on his cock, gaining some more control as Eddie’s thrusts slow down with fatigue. You take the reins, cupping his face in your hand and kissing him hard. Licking into his mouth desperately, humming when his tongue meets yours. But then he somehow takes control again, making you pliant for him even as you ride him with vigor. He squeezes your jaw, letting your mouth fall open before he spits into it, a string of his saliva dropping onto your tongue. You swallow it, not needing to be instructed, and you swear Eddie gets even harder inside of you. You recall Eddie’s comment from earlier, when Jonathan had given you the shot. ‘She knows how to swallow.’

“Fuck, baby,” he grunts, jaw tight and the veins in his neck prominent as he stills your bouncing on top of him and thrusts up into you.

He goes so deep you’re left seeing stars, lurching forward and gripping his shoulders for stability. Your body feels like it could crumple into itself if you let it, every one of your limbs overtaken with pleasure. You feel a familiar tension building higher and higher in the pit of your stomach. The sound of his balls slapping against your skin and the occasional smacking of your lips against his fills the vehicle, the air growing humid with every hot breath that leaves your mouths. The sounds he makes are downright obscene, any bit of composure he’d had completely slipping away for you. His thrusts get faster, faster, and you let your fingers drop down to your clit, rubbing quick circles on the sensitive bud.

“Ohhhh fuck baby,” Eddie moans, watching the way your head tips back as you pleasure yourself. “Gonna cum for me? Gonna cum all over my cock?”

“Yes, fuck yes, Eddie,” you cry, thighs trembling as your orgasm crawls closer and closer.

His fingers squeeze your hips impossibly tight, one of his hands letting go only to deliver a swift smack to your ass. You whine, cursing under your breath as the pads of your fingers circle your clit again and again. Eddie fucks you ruthlessly, pulling almost entirely out just to sheathe himself inside of you again, taking your breath away. The friction and the fullness is euphoric, your body giving way completely to pleasure as your second orgasm finally rips through you. You’re screaming out for him, chanting his name again and again as you come undone on his cock. You soak him, lewd, wet noises coming from you as he continues to thrust beneath you.

“‘M gonna cum so fucking hard, baby,” he rasps, looking at you through his lashes. “Where do you want it?”

“Inside. Inside Eddie, please,” you rush out, begging him to fill you with his seed. He lets out a strangled whine at this, gripping your flesh even harder.

You swear his eyes roll back into his head, hips stuttering and his cock pulsing as you feel the warmth of his cum painting your insides. His final thrusts are sloppy as he gives you every last drop of his cum, your mouth hung open in a silent moan at the overwhelming sensation of him gliding against your sensitive walls.

His chest is heaving with each breath he takes, his palms splayed out across your lower back, holding you close to him when you slump forward. Your legs feel like jelly, weak and trembling from exertion. Your mind is fuzzy in the best way, a smile on your face when Eddie tilts you to look at him.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs, his eyes roaming over your entire face, loving how blissed out you look. “Wanted to have you all to myself during our whole show tonight, god…” he continues, smirking a little as he shakes his head.

“I could say the same to you,” you reply, looking at his lips as you talk.

His mouth catches yours in a lazy kiss, tongues dancing together sloppily. His fingers rub soothing circles on your skin, slowly guiding you up and off of his softened cock.

“So, do I have to shove more dollar bills in your pants for all of that, too, or?” you joke, earning a laugh from Eddie that presents itself in a harsh puff of air from his nose.

“Nah, that’s on the house, baby,” he says, giving you a lopsided grin.

You both sit in silence for a moment, your delicate fingers tracing patterns up and down his arms. He looks at you like you’re an angel sent from the heavens, those chocolate brown eyes admiring you in the kindest way.

“Do you, uh, still wanna come back to my place?” he says finally, that ill-fitting nervousness creeping back into his voice.

“Hmmm,” you pretend to ponder, pulling your dress back up over your breasts and tugging the hem to rest normally on your thighs. “What’s in it for me?”

“I have a stripper pole in my living room,” he says with a smug grin. “I’ll give you your own private show.”

“Sold.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #stripper!eddie munson #stripper!eddie munson x reader #stripper!eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction

[cyripticchronicler]

Love Potions and Unspoken Desires - Sirius Black

A mishap with Amortentia has you and Sirius head over heels for each other. Except, your feelings are genuine. But what is his were too?

A/N: I haven't posted in forever and I'm so sorry! I've been busy with school and have been studying a lot. I'm really proud of this one shot though and I hope everyone likes it!! If there are any errors or constructive criticism you want to give please tell me <3

Warnings: Slight mentions of abuse, kissing

Masterlist

The torch-lit halls guide your way as you walk towards Potions, mind racing at the mere thought of the lesson. You wrap your arms around yourself in an attempt to make yourself more comfortable, trying your best to keep your back straight. 

They slump as soon as you enter the room.

“You’re late,” Professor Slughorn announces loudly causing your cheeks to heat. Everyone's heads whipped around to face you and you prayed to Merlin the ground would swallow you up whole. 

You clear your throat so your voice doesn't come out scratchy, “Sorry, Professor. I was helping out in Transfiguration.”

He nods in dismissal and you take that as your queue to find a seat, eyes scanning the crowded room for an empty spot. Your eyes land on the only free seat next to Sirius Black and you tense.  You can barely be in the same room as him and now you're going to have to sit next to you? Merlin, you wish this day was over. 

And he looks so pretty today too. His hair was freshly washed, Gryffindor tie slung loosely around his neck, and shirt sleeves pulled up to his elbows. 

A pointed cough snaps you out of your thoughts and you hurry towards the seat, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. 

You’re pretty sure everyone just saw you check out Sirius Black. 

Could this day get any worse?

Turns out it could. 

You go to chuck your bag underneath the table but miss by a long shot, the bottom of your school bag hitting Sirius in the face, causing him to let out a surprised groan. Some people behind you let out a laugh and you squeeze your eyes shut, kicking your bag underneath the table and sitting in your seat. 

You barely make eye contact before you look away, muttering a hushed ‘sorry’ and attempting to catch up on the notes you missed. 

“Today we’re making Amortentia. Can someone tell me what this is?” At the lack of answers, he turns to you with a pointed look.

You raise your hand nervously. “It’s the most potent love potion. When consumed it causes a powerful infatuation or obsession in the drinker towards the person who administered the potion. it does not create genuine love; rather, it amplifies preexisting feelings or creates an artificial attraction.”

“Very good. Five points to Gryffindor.”

You nod your head awkwardly and look back down at your notes. 

“Write down the ingredients and instructions and then get started. You’re going to be working with the people next to you.”

You tense up, head snapping up. Sirius chuckles next to you and you turn to face him. 

“Looks like we’re working together, Love. I’ll go get the ingredients.”

You nod your head awkwardly, too shocked to respond. Did he just call you love? Are you okay?

Your cheeks heat and you groan internally at yourself. Stop blushing you dipshit. 

Attempting to distract yourself, you make quick work of cleaning the workspace, spotting Sirius talking to James and Remus out of the corner of your eye. James smacks Sirius’ back, whispering something that causes Remus to shake his head and Sirius to grin. 

He comes back a minute later, ingredients in hand. 

“You seem to know a lot about this potion, you ever used it on someone?” He smirks teasingly causing your cheeks to flush. “No,” You mutter quietly, “I just like making potions.”

He nodded in acknowledgement, eyes searching your face. You look away quickly, his stare burning your face as you pour some ingredients into the cauldron. 

You continue the work in comfortable - for him at least- silence, working with him easier than ever. 

You were finished in no time, grinning in triumph as you tried not to breathe in the strong smell. 

“Well done you too! Grab a vile and bottle some up why don't you.” Professor Slughorn smiles, hurrying off to another table whose cauldron is smoking. 

“Good job, love. I might have to work with you more,” Sirius flirts and you jerk in surprise, hand flying back and knocking the vile that he was holding with your own, Amortentia effectively spilling over you both. 

His eyes grow dilated in seconds and you assume yours do the same, heart thumping and palms sweating as you stare up at him with heart eyes. 

“I-I'm so sorry.” You force out, too focused on how he looked at you like you hung the moon. 

“For?” He questions, seemingly in a daze. He looks down at his shirt and grins. “Right, it’s no problem, Love. You can do nothing wrong in my eyes.” He flirts and you go back to respond but are successfully cut off by James. 

“Sirius! You’re in deep shit, man.” He laughs, slapping him on the back. You track the hand, wishing it was yours instead.

Sirius doesn’t respond, too busy grinning at you. Merlin, this potion is good.

“Dear, dear.” Professor Slughorn mutters as he comes to inspect the chaos. “Right, it will wear off soon. You’re just going to be partially in love with each other for a bit.”

Sirius grins, “I am in love with her-” James cuts him off with a hand on the shoulder, dragging him towards the door. “I’ll just keep him away until the potion wears off-”

“The class isn’t over-” Professor Slughorn protests but James is already gone. You frown in disappointment, already missing Sirius. 

—

It was a few hours later, the potion's effects still thrumming through your blood, your infatuation for him stronger than ever. You were distracted the whole day, mind always seeming to stray away to thoughts of Sirius. How pretty he looked, how he’d let you put his hair up, maybe even braid it, how he’d smile at you. He’d probably be great in bed too- 

“You’re doing it again.” Lily mutters, face scrunched up in disgust and you groan in shame. “It’s like my feelings for him have been amplified by 100. It’s amazing but unbearable at the same time.”

She grabs your hand in comfort, grabbing the mashed potatoes with her other hand and piling them onto her plate. You’re in the Great Hall for dinner, loud chattering filling the crowded space. From just a few feet away Sirius and his friends sit and if you listen hard enough you can hear James’ obnoxious laugh. 

“I'm sure the potion will wear off soon,” Alice reassures from beside you, grinning at you in hopes of making you feel better.

You shake your head in disagreement. “It’s only been two hours and these potions can last for days.”

“We just have to keep you away from him. How hard can that be?”

Very hard, you realise, eyes widening at the sight of Sirius Black stalking towards you, encouraged by the jeering of his friends. 

“Hello, Love.” He smiles, eyes soft as he admires your face. You sigh, chin resting on your hand, too distracted by his beauty to respond. He seems too distracted by your beauty to call you out on your silence.

“Fucking hell,” Lily whispers from somewhere behind you but you pay her no mind, continuing to smile at Sirius as he does the same. 

A loud laugh from James who still sits at the table, snaps him out of his daze, “W-would you want to have breakfast with me tomorrow?”

You nod immediately, smile blinding, probably losing a few brain cells from how intensely you were nodding. 

He flashes his pearly whites, “Great! I’ll meet you in the common room at seven?” He questions and you nod, too distracted by this freckle you just spotted right underneath his eye. He doesn’t make a move to go, eyes tracing your jawline slowly. 

“Okay!” You jump at Lily’s hands on your shoulders, slowly dragging you out of the hall. “Time to say goodbye.” You and Sirius both frown. “Don’t be like that, you’ll see each other tomorrow.” She grabs your arm and waves it back and forth, “Now say bye-bye.”

“Bye,” You whisper, cheeks flushing. “Bye, Love.” He mutters back. 

—

“Why did today of all days be the day nothing turned out properly!” You whine, head falling in defeat onto your folded arms that rest on your dresser, abandoned mascara bottle hanging loosely in your hand. 

Lily coos softly from behind you, distracted by getting dressed. “Sweetheart, you look amazing. You’re not having a bad eyelash day and your hair looks great! Sirius is going to fall to his knees when he sees you.”

You look up from your arms slowly, meeting Lily’s eyes in the mirror, “You think?” You question hopefully. She nods. “And my eyelashes look okay?” She nods again and you smile softly. “Thank you,” You stand up, moving to get dressed. “I don’t even know why I care so much, it’s just breakfast. I swear this love potion is making me go crazy.”

“Sure, it’s the ‘love potion’ that’s making you go crazy,” Lily mutters sarcastically from behind you but you’re too busy daydreaming about Sirius’ eyes to notice. 

–

“Hello.” You mutter, successfully gaining Sirius’ attention as he turns to face you. He’s dressed in his uniform but he’s obviously tried to tidy it up a little bit. His usually loose tie wrapped tightly around his neck, his white t-shirt tucked into his freshly ironed slacks. “You look nice today, but-” You walk over, hand gripping his tie and losing it. “That’s better.”

You notice a faint blush on his cheeks and grin. “Thank you, love. So do you. Are you ready for breakfast?” 

You nod you both start walking to the hall together, his hand brushing yours slightly. You take in a deep breath for confidence, trying to calm your racing heart as you link your fingers through his. 

He doesn't pull away. 

You make it into the hall a few minutes later, taking a seat beside Sirius. James attempts to sit across from us but one look from Sirius sends him sitting at the end of the table beside Remus, a pout on his lips. 

“You didn't have to send him away,” You mutter, feeling bad. 

“He’ll live. Besides, I wanted to spend time with you.” Sirius states, causing you to blush. He grabs your plate, piling it with the stuff you get every morning before handing it back to you.

“How do you know what I eat for breakfast?” You question, face scrunched in confusion. Sirius pauses his movements of piling his own plate, cheeks tinted pink. “I-I guess the potion has made me more aware of what you eat.”

“Yeah, but the incident happened after breakfast yesterday.”

He shrugs, “Huh, I don’t know then.”

“Have you-”

“Do you like to read? There's this really pretty bookstore that just opened up in Hogsmeade. Maybe we can go after breakfast? Get some butter beer too?”

You decide to let it go, “Yeah, I’d love to go. I’ve been meaning to get some more books to read, too.”

He grins, eyes sparkling in delight as he stares into your eyes, “Great! It’s a date.”

—

“I don’t believe you!” You laugh, knocking your shoulder against Sirius’, hands linked as you make your way down the snowy path to Hogsmeade.

“It’s true!” Sirius insists, pulling you closer, nose red from the cold. He looks so pretty, you think. If only his feelings for you were true. 

“And Euphemia let you stay after that? She must have a heart of gold.” You tease playfulling, relishing in his laugh that warms your insides. 

“Oh she does, I owe her my life.” Before you can question him he’s pulling you towards The Three Broomsticks. “Now c’mon, let's get you a butterbeer before you freeze to death.”

You comply, following him into the warm building, the quiet talks of chatter greeting you as Sirius leads you to a table in the corner. 

“So,” He begins, leaning forward for suspense. “Tell me something that you’ve told no one else.”

You impulsively grab his hand, letting it warm up your cold one. He doesn't mention it as you speak, “Um, in first year I once walked in on The Grey Lady and The Bloody Baron trying to ‘get it on.’ I was too traumatized to tell anyone.”

He stares at you, shellshocked. “Well- That’s certainly not what I was expecting. Is that even possible?”

You chuckle quietly at his shocked impression, “No, actually. They kept on going through each other. It was horrible to watch.”

“Your poor eyes,” He winces in sympathy, squeezing your hand tightly. 

“It’s still engraved in my mind. It’s put me off kissing ever since.”

He freezes slightly. “So you haven't kissed anyone?” He questions quietly, eyes shining in delight. Your cheeks flush, “No.”

He takes in a breath, leaning forward and you instinctively do the same until your noses are brushing. “So if I were to kiss you right now, I’d be the first one to ever touch these precious lips?” You nod and his eyes squeeze shut. 

“Fuck.” He mutters under his breath. “Can I-”

“Here are your two butterbeers.” You jerk back at the unexpected voice, watching as Sirius does the same. “T-thank you,” You mutter to the waitress who is already gone, taking a big gulp of your butterbeer in the hope of cooling down your flushed body. 

You sit in silence until it gets too awkward for you and you attempt to start a conversation, “We’re still going to the bookstore after this, right?”

He jumps, not expecting you to speak before he breaks out into a relaxed grin. “Of course, Love. I’m not much of a reader but I know you are.”

“Oh, that’s sweet. If you don’t want to go then we can just head back-” “I want to go. I want to spend time with you.”

“Oh.” You curse internally. You’ve already said ‘Oh.’ “Thank you? Yeah, thank you.” He laughs, “Don’t thank me, love.”

You flush, “Sorry-” “And don't say sorry either.”

You nod, “Sorry- I mean, shit.” He laughs at your ramble causing your cheeks to go bright red. You attempt to turn the conversation around, “What do you mean you owe Euphemia your life?” He visibly tenses and you curse. Fucking idiot.

“You don’t have to- That was rude-” He links your fingers together, placing them on the table and successfully cutting you off. 

“It’s okay. I trust you, love.” He grins but it seems fake. “My parents and I never got along, and after I joined Gryfindor things started getting worse. Whenever they got violent I went to James and Euphemia would take care of me. My family successfully kicked me out last summer and I’ve been living with James ever since.” He falls quiet and you squeeze his hand. 

“I’m sorry-” You cut yourself off at his glare. “I hope you’re okay.”

He manages a grin, a true one this time. “I’m okay, especially with you.” He teases causing your cheeks to flush. 

“That’ll change once the potion wears off,” You attempt to joke but Sirius is silent. “Yeah…”

Crickets. 

“Want to go check out the bookstore?” You grasp at any shred of confidence. 

Sirius practically jumps out of his seat, taking you with him. “Let’s go.”

—-

“I had fun tonight.” You state, awkwardly standing by the steps that will lead you to your dorm. Sirius stalks closer towards you. 

“I did too,” He grins, diamonds in his eyes as he brushes your hair behind your ear before cradling your cheek gently. “Remember to tell me what you thought of that book,” He shrugs down at the book in your hand, unable to keep his eyes off you.

“Yeah. I should go…” You make no move to leave and Sirius makes no move to remove his hand from your cheek. 

“You should,” He whispers, eyes trained on your lips, swollen from how many times you’ve bitten it out of nervousness. 

And then his lips are on yours. 

And then you're kissing him back. 

And your back is against the wall, his tongue pushes into your mouth, and he’s holding your waist. You can't breathe and you're scratching your nails down his shirt-clad back until he groans against your mouth in pleasure. 

And then you’re pulling away. “Stop,” You whisper against his lips.

He stops immediately, taking a few steps away from you, “I-I’m sorry. I should’ve asked.” His lips are swollen and wet and you want nothing more than to kiss him again.

But you can't.

“No, I’m sorry.” You hide your face in your hands, back against the wall. “I-I should’ve said no to the date. I just- I wanted so badly for your feelings to be real. That you’d actually like me but it’s not fair on you. And I’m sorry.”

He looks at you like you’ve grown another head. “I do like you.”

You shake your head, “Sirius-” “I do! I’ve liked you for years. I’ve been wanting to tell you but you just make me so nervous-” “Sirius-”

“C’mon, listen to me-” “This is the potion!” 

“The potion wore off hours ago and you know it!”

You slump against the wall in defeat, legs against your chest as you look away from him. You know he’s right. The once amplified feelings you had for him are more sane and you no longer feel like you’d kill every single person who so much as looked at him the wrong way. 

“You can’t like me back. I don’t believe you.”

He crouches down in front of you, hands shaking as he reaches to touch your knee. “Why don’t you believe me, my love?” He questions, his voice much quieter than it was before.

“Because you’re Sirius Black,” You whisper like it explains everything. And it does. He’s Sirius Black, the golden boy who could have anyone he wanted.

“And you’re you. If anything I don’t deserve you. You’re smart, beautiful, way out of my league.” You open your mouth to protest but he cuts you off. “But I’m going to work every day to be the man you deserve because I want you. So badly it hurts.”

“I want you too,” You mutter shyly, you look into his eyes that still look at you like you’ve hung the moon. 

“Aw my love,” He pulls you closer, breath fanning your cheek. “You’ve had me for a long time.”

Taglist - If you want to be removed feel free to comment. I won't be offended :)

@aremuslupinsimp

#sirius black oneshot #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black imagines #sirius black fic #sirius black fanfic #sirius black x reader #sirius black x reader angst to fluff #sirius black x reader fluff #sirius black x y/n #sirius black #sirius x reader #sirius orion black #sirius black x you #Sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #the marauders #marauders #the marauders era #marauders era #hp marauders #sirius black fluff #sirius black kinnie

[mangekyuou]

Hi Zuko, how are you? I Just read you write poly, so may I ask a Benn + female reader + Shanks, nsfw please? Thank you

★ GUESS WHO! shanks + beckman ★

── pairing. shanks x f!reader x beckman.

── summary. shanks and beckman have the lovely idea of playing a fun little game of guess who in the bedroom. this time, with a blindfold.

── cw(s). nsfw. pwp. afab!reader. she/her pronouns used. sub!reader. oral. ( f receiving ) blindfold. overstimulation. piv. unprotected sex. mating press. manhandling. ( kinda sorta ) shanks calls the reader “gorgeous”, “pretty girl”, “beautiful”. beckman calls the reader “darlin”. not proofread. MINORS DNI.

── wc. 1.6k.

── notepad. i’ve been trying to write this for SO long it’s almost ridiculous. it went through so many changes until i FINALLY got the inspiration randomly in the middle of the night on a thursday🗿🗿im so sorry this took SO LONG. also further spreading my southerner beckman propaganda muahahaha

“all i’m saying is, i find it a bit unfair that i’m the only one that can’t see,” you muttered, as your fingertips tugged at the satin black blindfold covering your eyes. large, rugged hands gently wrapped themselves around your wrists, guiding your curious hands up to the pair of soft familiar lips of the greying gunslinger who was behind you.

though you could not see him, you focused on how gently and loving, beckman kissed your hands. just that quick almost forgetting there was another person here with you. another hand found your bare thighs, making you jolt and close your legs in surprise, goosebumps covered your skin.

your redheaded captain’s voice reached your ears, “because if you could see the game would be ruined.”

“what game? what did you talk beckman into?” you questioned, earning a light chuckle from the gunslinger behind you. he let your hands fall to your sides, kissing from your shoulder up to the base of your neck, as his hands moved to fiddle with the loose tie of your silk robe.

“i’ll have you know, for once this was his idea,” shanks clarified, prying your thighs part, catching a glimpse of your panties hidden underneath your robe. “we wanted to play a little game of guess who. we’ll ask you who’s pleasing you, and you will just have to guess. if you answer correctly, you get a reward. if you answer incorrectly…well…” he trailed off, as both he and beckman stopped touching you all together. you couldn’t hold the desperate whine that fell from your lips, your body fidgeting in between beckman’s thighs, where you sat on the edge of the king-sized bed you all shared, needed to feel them touch you again.

you didn’t even have to see them to know that both of your boyfriends were smirking down at you.

“because we love ya, we’ll start very easy.” beckman began, wrapping his strong arms back around your body and finally undoing your robe tie, opening to reveal your burning body underneath a matching set that left little to the imagination. his breath was hot against the shell of your ear, “is that okay with you, darlin?”

you eagerly nod your head at his words. you could hear your boyfriends lightly tsk, making you pout. you knew better than that.

shanks moved closer, taking your chin into his hand, guiding your pretty little head to where he was, “use your words, gorgeous.”

“yes, i want this. i want both of you,” you breathed out.

“much better, pretty girl,” he smiled, leaning crash his lips into yours in a sloppy kiss that he‘s been waiting to give you since he saw you walk out of the bathroom in this damn little robe that didn’t even cover your ass. just as fast as the kiss came, it was gone, as he pulled away from your lips with a laugh. it felt like a damn punishment, “now pretty girl, who was that?”

“you, shanks.”

“easy guess,” he teased. using the space between your legs, he carefully got onto his knees on the floor in front of him. if you could only see him.

beckman moved his rough hands up your hot skin, bringing his hand up your face, turning your face to him for a kiss. his kiss couldn’t be any more different than shanks. not hungry and rough, but passionate and soft. they must have mistaken you for dumb if they didn’t know you already could tell who is who by their kiss and the taste of their lips. it wasn’t hard to tell the difference between cheap beer and cigarette smoke and that sweet bourbon you got him for his birthday.

beckman spoiled you a little, giving you a longer kiss before eventually pulling away. he was always sweet on you. “and who was that?” he said, his lips practically ghosting on top of yours.

“you, beckman.”

“atta girl.”

“this is easy. i got this.”

this was easy, far too easy. you could do this with your eyes closed, well, blindfolded. you had known the both of them like the back of your hand. so just how bad could it get?

how bad could it possibly be, with your matching set discarded somewhere on the floor and your naked body sprawled on the bed and your shaking legs struggling to stay wide open, threatening to close around just whoever’s head was finger fucking and eating out your pussy like a starved man with no shame, making a mess of you. all while the other, alternated between sucking and kneading your tits and swallowing your moans into their mouth.

you couldn’t tell who was who, too dazed and fucked out from your previous orgasms for a name to spill from your swollen lips, as you take what is given to you.

he flicks his tongue over your puffy clit, before sucking roughly on your bundle of nerves, pumping his thick digits in and out of your pussy at an unforgiving pace. that band in the pit of your stomach was stretching thin, threatening to burst, for the second time tonight, maybe it was the third, you weren’t sure.

if ‘no touching’ weren’t one of the rules of the game, your fingers would be pulling at the hair of the bastard who was making you feel so fucking good. instead, you grip the sheets, as you reach your orgasm, thrashing against the hold of the other fucker who was holding you down.

“who just made you cum, sweetheart?”

coming down from your high, you had nearly forgotten about the game. you aren’t even sure whose voice you were listening to. you try to think real hard “…s-shanks?” your shaky voice whispered.

that ill-fated tsk coming from beside you, “wrong again. what happened to that confidence from earlier? i thought you had this,” shanks teased. he helped sit you up, leaning your back against his bare chest, as he used the headboard to support himself. he rested his chin on the top of your head. “poor beck, working so hard to pleasure you and you still guessed wrong. i think you should make it up to him, don’t you think so too?”

“yes! i want to! please…let me make it up to him.”

“look at that, where did this eagerness come from?” it was beckman’s turn to tease you. this was a side of him you had yet to see, a side you were enjoying.

as you try to catch your breath, you don’t even hear the whisper exchange between your boyfriends. you can only make out shanks giggling under his breath and beckman removing himself from your legs and the bed altogether. the redhead massaged gentle circles in the small of your back.

oh, how you yearned to see them, even for just a second. finally, you heard beckman rid himself of his pants, freeing his cock from its restraint and you felt the bed dip again.

beckman’s rough hands grip your hips, pulling you almost out of shanks’s lap, leaving your head resting on his thigh. he laid you on your back. before you could even spread your legs, he forces them up, pressing your knees up to your chest further than you even knew they could go before stuffing your sopping, greedy cunt full with his cock inch by inch. as he bottoms out, he lets out a low groan of “fuck”.

“oh baby, he just slid right in, fuck,” shanks breathed out, letting his fingers graze the side of your face as he hovered over you, admiring your fucked out expressions and pretty mewls as if they were the most beautiful melody he had ever heard.

beckman began to move, his slow thrusts gradually picked up speed, as he found a rough pace, drilling you into the mattress. shanks was hard as a rock watching as he pitched in a strong hand to help keep one of your quivering legs up to your chest. the way your pussy swallows beckman’s cock over and over again, leaving a thick creamy white ring at the base. the head of his cock hitting your sweet spot with every thrust, each one greater than the last one, leaving you babbling incoherently. it's

“that’s it, beautiful. you’re taking him so well,” shanks praised, making your pussy flutter around beckman’s cock. the gunslinger let out a low grunt, before grinning, “oh, she loved that.”

to hell with not touching. one of your arms was wrapped around beckman’s neck, as was intertwined with shanks’ hand as you reached your high, giving them your third orgasm of the night. or was it the fourth? “that’s it, let go, gorgeous.”

beckman followed behind you, filling your pussy to the brim with his cum. he slowly slid out of you, gently bringing your legs back down to the mattress, not before making sure to plant sweet kisses on your bruised thighs and ankles from where he held a bit too tight.

still lost in your pleasure, you hadn’t even processed that they had traded places, beckman was once again behind you while shanks had settled himself in between your legs. beckman removed your blindfold, allowing you to finally see.

shanks surprises you with the first stride up your folds, causing you to shutter in overstimulation. “too much,” you stutter, hazily watching as the redhead cleaned you up with his tongue, humming in delight against your leaking cunt. for only a moment you swear you could feel him smirk against you.

“how honey, we’re just getting started. besides you still have to make up for all of your wrong guesses.”

© MANGEKYUOU — do not copy, repost, or translate my works.

#☆ — MY LOVE MINE ALL MINE. #idk if i like this or not #🚶🚶🚶 #one piece #one piece x reader #shanks #red haired shanks #akagami no shanks #shanks x reader #shanks smut #benn beckman #beckman #benn beckman x reader #beckman x reader #benn beckman smut #beckman smut #one piece oneshots #one piece scenarios #one piece imagines #one piece headcanons #one piece smut #i’ll **** *** * ****** if this gets #you know

[rafecameronsgun]

Birthday princess

inspired by this(pornlink)

‼️warnings:rough sex,breeding kink,little of overstimulation,smut

aftercare in the enddd

So first of all,its my bday yey!!! Soo here is a little imagination of how i would like to celebrate it with him😚

very messy and not well edited btw :(

You felt both joyful and excited when Rafe offered to tie your hands with your ankles and give you hard backshots as a birthday present.

Your face pressed into the mattress,ass up in the air, nipples getting harder through the touch with the smooth sheet beneath you.

“Ready,princess?”he asks behind you

“Mhmm,fuck yes!”you muffle

He spreads your legs a bit wider to open up your pussy as much as possible because he wants to feel every inch inside you. He tightens the tie.

“Uh-uhmmm”you whine dramatically when he pushes the tip inside. He lets out a chuckle.

“What’s gotten into you?”he pushes it deep in your cunt with a long trust.

“Its just…feels so good!”you moan loud,needing to grip into something but its impossible since your wrists are glued together behind your back.

“Shit,so tight for me”he starts moving slowly,his cock devouring your insides perfectly,your wet mixing with his pre-cum.

“Faster!!”you raise your voice a bit when your pussy starts aching because of his teasing.

“Okay,miss impatient”he chuckles before grabbing on your hip and swinging his hips roughly forward.

“Holy shit”you moan out, clenching your walls around him”you fuck me so good,daddy”

“Then be a good girl and take it!”his breathing quickens with each thrust,his fingers so deep in your skin it will probably leave marks later.

Wet sounds and clappings filling the room each time you and his skin matches. You let out loud cries,pornographic sounds as he completely fills every little piece inside you. You two connect like a puzzle.

“Fuck baby,pussy so good i might breed you tonight”he groans out loud,reaching for the roots of your hair then pulling it back.”You want that,huh?Want me to feed your little pussy with my cum,yeah?”he talks in a hoarse,deep voice.

He fucks you so hard and good you are starting to loose your mind.

“Yes!!Daddy please,want you to grow inside me!!”you roll your eyes, a “fucked-out”feeling kicking in which would make you fall onto the bed,if you wouldn’t be wrapped up like a gift. His large hand lands a harsh slap on your ass-cheek.

“Mhmm!!so good!!”you keep moaning,whining.

“Gonna fill this cunt with my child,shiitt!”he groans hoarsely,his hand forming a tighter grip on your hair while his free hand reaches between your open lips to your clit,circling on it gently.

Now this is very over the edge,your cunt burning and your legs start to shake,needing to close them but he forces you open. A single tear running down your cheek from the overwhelming pleasure with little pain he causes.

“Cum for me,baby girl”he works his hands faster,your legs shaking and your whiny voice loud as you cum on his cock.

Two more thrusts and he holds your hip tightly into his own,his dick throbbing inside your sensitive hole,head falling back with a loud growl as he fills your womb with his hot seed.

Now you are laying on top of his huge body,both of you are naked and still hot because of the latest orgasm. He gently strokes ur hair,kisses your head.

“Happy birthday,little girl”he cages you in his arms,fingers caressing your back.

“Mhmm”you muffle with your eyes closed,very tired you could fall asleep right now.

“I love you so much,you make me so happy”he gives another kiss into your messy hair.

“You are a very special person,you know that?You are always so good for me.”

You bury your face more into his naked chest,not being able to form a single word but giving a little kiss to his skin,which currently means “i love you too”.

“Need some water?”he keeps comforting you,making you feel loved with every touch he gives you.You nod.

When he comes back from the kitchen he also brings a little plastic tiara with himself.

“Here you go”he hands you the water with a big smile,placing the tiara on top of your head.”My birtbday princess did such a good job for me,have to reward her”he kisses your stomach,then your lower stomach…going lowerrrr,his fingers opening your knees again. The little kisses on your inner thighs wakes you up in a minute,you slightly grab onto his hair with a sweet moan when his lips touches your pussy.

“I love you”his fingers locked with yours as he eats you out,his thumb caressing your small hand.

@sadfury @rafeinterlude @rafescurtainbangz @rafesmuse @starkeyisthelastname

#outer banks #rafe cameron #outerbanks #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron smut #rafe fanfiction #rafe fic #smut #rafe imagine #rafe outer banks #birthday #birthday girl #happy birthday #happy bithday to me #helloooo #so badddd #anywayyyy

[braaan]

Indulgence (w/ Hyewon)

male reader & iz*one hyewon

smut, fluff, angst, 3k words

For as long as you’ve known, you’ve been allergic to chocolate.

You’ve had to just trust me through the majority of your childhood, eyebrows knit and eyes misty as other kids tore through gold and silver foil; biting the inside of your mouth bloody instead of hard-earned Halloween candy. 

But you’d be lying if you said you’d never indulged. 

Under blankets, cloaked in moonlight, secrecy, and sin, you delighted in what you could sneak to bed in your grubby hands. 

And for such an innocent sweet, you pieced together that it was as close to tangible a paradox could get. You reveled in how unwrapped, it was equal parts fully solid and simultaneously already melting into your fingerprints; how in taste, it was equal parts acutely bitter and simultaneously sickly sweet; how to your allergies, it was equal parts undoubtedly delectable and simultaneously why you were sweating in the cold and breaking out into bright pink patches across your neck. The symptoms were nothing close to fatal, of course, just enough of an eyesore that the wiser part of you wouldn’t eat it outside.

So: you could have chocolate, just not the optics.

You’ve pieced together enough that the same antithetical pull is what draws you to Kang Hyewon.

See, when you take the newly vacant student counselor position by next-in-line default, you just trust me’d that it’d be an easy job. You were a newly minted senior with college lined up in the fall, and wanted to take your rite of passage freedom to slack off for the rest of the school year. Now, in lieu of that, you had to man a class outfitted to become a makeshift war room for juniors as they summarized, re-summarized, and then re–re-summarized full life stories into 650-word–bite sizes. 

And the college essay was not an easy opponent.

Nothing was sacred enough to not be sharpened into a sob story; tightly-wrapped childhood traumas unpacked for college admissions readers to casually pick away at if it meant more of a chance than the next applicant. The whole experience took a pressure cooker to any crumb of anxiety, and it was now your job to help navigate this.

Hyewon was a junior assigned to your group who you got to know in excruciating detail for two reasons. One, she was a slow writer. 

The college application was arguably a solved concept. At best, it was a game of madlibs with a very tough audience. Fill in prompts about your childhood, upbringing, and aspirations to an interesting enough degree, fudging details here and there where you can to pull at heartstrings or fluff up the footsteps you want to follow in, score enough points, tick enough boxes, and you’d have a good shot. 

But every time without fail, you got to lean back in your chair as Hyewon approached every new question like it was her first. You got to study her tells: how she tucked her lips into a pout, dimpling her chin; wrestled a hair tie out of where it nestled in her wrist; and gathered everything but two obedient strands of hair out of her face into a loose ponytail, only to slowly inch her gaze towards you a little bit later to ask how everyone else answered the question. 

And two, you were absolutely head over heels.

Every time you’ve tried to pinpoint exactly what it is about Hyewon that makes your stomach queasy, you end up finding two more things that do.

One of your first leads came from how she seemingly made striking so soft. When she’d catch you in her gaze, Hyewon had a way of zeroing anything else out; like the implication was that the both of you were sharing a single breath, and any more that you took would take away from hers. No dice. 

Another answer came from how from the almond curvature in her eyes, the porcelain ridge on her nose, the satisfied crease that nestled between her lips, down to the curve on her chin, it was like Hyewon physically wasn’t made up of any hard angles; like before God put her on Earth to remind everyone what was holy still existed, an angel double-checked his work. No luck there either. 

It only took a couple rounds of this for you to make peace with the ambiguity; that some things were best left unanswered.

The tension that stood in stark contrast to all of this was that you, of course, were her goddamn counselor.

There isn’t a lot of graceful space between being forward and manipulative, and it wouldn’t take too disingenuous of a read for someone to question what was behind your relationship. Something about reciprocation and mutual understanding becoming dishonest when your job was literally getting to the core of Hyewon’s deepest motivations and anxieties — it didn’t take a lot of logic to see how much the guise of writing her essays made things oh so convenient.

The entire situation was at best delicate and at worst, spelled hauntingly awkward hometown visits during spring break, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. 

So: you couldn’t have Kang Hyewon, the optics wouldn’t let you.

And as if you needed more of a reason, Hyewon was quirky.

You see, where other burnt out juniors had journaling or, like, gateway drugs, Hyewon had an affirmations folder. Slotted in the corner of her phone, accessible by a one-tap shortcut, was an application that she kept photos and voice notes-

“To remind me I’m doing well,” she asserts in the middle of a particularly long stretch of you poking fun at it. “You sound like you might’ve needed it considering all this projection.”

“Let’s walk back projection some,” you try and parry, palms raised.

“I mean, I’d be jealous too if I realized I did college applications the wrong way,” she adds, singsongy enough to read sweet but also with enough acid that it lands how you both know she intended. And then: “Why don’t you add to it?”

You pause for a beat, and Hyewon takes the cue, her eyes darting from her laptop keyboard to the look on your face.

“Ew, and not in any of the ways you’re thinking,” she spits. “You know, because you’re helping me secure my future at a great college or whatever. It’ll be sentimental or some shit.”

You try for a response, but the wiser part of you shuts you up. You tap the red button on her screen and leave her something sentimental or some shit.

“You’re doing great, Hyewon.”

-

For better or worse, this was how the two of you operated: permanently playing high school footsies — loaded, foxy, but finished with enough deniability that you could chalk it up to hormones or puberty. And between the two of you, Hyewon was much better at the game. In your defense, though, she didn’t play by the rules. You’d draw a line in the sand-

i just think this is really cliche, your latest Google Docs comment on her personal statement reads. do you not have any other family stories

And she’d dive headfirst over it-

odd way of getting to know me perv, she replies, before: i don’t like it either. i’ll rewrite!

But you knew you had to continue walking it back. 

Call it pretend, call it reputational awareness, call it whatever you want, for one reason or another, you were aware of the very thin line of implication the both of you straddled and were afraid enough to never cross it. Balancing on it, sure — you’d swim behind the buoys all day, but you knew better than to test even just beyond where the waves picked up. 

Just as luck would have it, though, it seemed like Hyewon followed a cosmic force your polar opposite. Whether on purpose or blissfully ignorant, it felt like she never looked down at where she was from the line, or even if she knew it existed. But whether like a siren out at sea testing your limits or reciprocating your feelings because she felt the same way, you’d never know.

-

“I just feel like this entire thing is so dumb,” Hyewon remarks, gesturing with a golden fry that drooped downwards like it was somber about the whole thing, too. 

It was finally a Friday, which meant that unlike every other day that week in your marathon of after school essay read-throughs and polishing, you could exhale for a little. 

You had just finished a long stretch of final edits for your counseling group and were taking things as slow as possible in hopes of making time move the same. You and Hyewon were parked in your car behind an old church building, under the only lamp that worked. Between the two of you sat an oily paper box on top of your center console, housing a scattering of drive through fries and in lieu of ketchup, a single frosty.

“You and everyone in the country, Hyewon,” you smirk, venturing into the box to find the perfect dipping fry.

She returns you an annoyed kiss of her teeth. “Come on. I mean, seriously. For the past couple of months, it’s just been me and how much I can cut up my identity into palatable answers. How much I can think of the future I’ll create. How much I can look backwards and pull out the motivations behind everything I’ve ever done.”

You stop and look over at her. She’s slouched in the passenger car seat, supported mostly only by the small of her back, with her feet up on your dashboard and in the Hyewon usual: everything in a loose ponytail besides two obedient strands. She’s slightly turned away from you, looking longingly at part of her reflection in the rear-view mirror like the implication was that behind the glass, the other her was happier. 

You couldn’t help but sympathize. You wondered where you were a year ago, in her shoes: in the middle of writing essays and imagining how you were going to brand yourself for college. 

“It’s cliche,” she prefaces. “But I feel like all this looking forwards and backwards… I’m not allowed to enjoy today, you know? The clubs, the grades, the people — I don’t know if I’m doing anything for the application or because I want to do it.”

When you look back at her again, you’re directly in her gaze. 

“Are you excited about college?”

You thumb at the fries at the bottom of the box wistfully, if not to buy yourself some thinking time, at least to cut a little bit through the very expectant silence. But you didn’t have much to ponder; you had an answer loaded a long time ago.

You try to couch it as harmlessly as possible. 

“I don’t know,” you start, looking for the words. “I guess I’m excited for the clean slate, right? Something about getting to close this chapter of my life and everything that came with it. The clubs, the grades, the people — being done with things I’ll cringe at in a couple of years and questions I didn’t get the answers to.”

You cautiously try for, and catch her gaze again. There’s a beat where you’re both just staring — it could have been a couple, you’re trying your hardest not to keep count — and the line you’re both teetering on erodes, now paper thin. Your ears are hot, expectant; you’re floating by the buoys and reaching out just past, testing the waters.

Hyewon’s eyes soften and her whole body decompresses with her as she lets out a short sigh.

“Beautiful,” she chides, and it’s back to a face you know: the space where her eyes meet the bridge of her nose pinches, and her lips curl up into a satisfied grin. “Some of your best work, really. Like you’re getting desperate for more spots in the affirmation journal.”

And like you rolled down all the windows at the same time, the moment dissipates into the evening, and you’re washed back onto shore.

You tap the red button on her screen.

“Keep going, Kang Hyewon.”

-

If you were being honest, there was a lot you learned about optics.

Firstly, they were exhausting to keep up with. Sure, there was a level of tactness that at a baseline was acceptable to expect of other people, but anything beyond that strayed into pushing an agenda.

And secondly, no one ever keeps a guise up in private.

Because every day you got back to the four walls of your room, cloaked in nothing but moonlight, secrecy, and sin, all you could think of was Kang Hyewon.

And you’d be lying if you said you never indulged.

Your hands find the familiar length of your shaft as they always did, and as you rouse your cock awake, your fingers working counterclockwise as your girth responds in kind, you’re coaxed to attention by the permanent picture you have of Hyewon. 

Her hair is up in her usual ponytail, and you reach out to brush the two loose strands of hair away from her face and behind her ears as she kneels down to get below you, sitting on her feet. There’s a beat where you’re both just staring, Hyewon shadowing your length, her head cocked to the side. You study the almonds that shaped her eyes, how softly her nose sloped before it peaked, and as you got to the crease between her lips, you didn’t think there existed a better place to start. 

You press the head of your cock between Hyewon’s lips and almost like she was protesting your entry, her tongue slid out to meet it. Your thumb teases along the slit in your tip as you imagine Hyewon runs a long line of saliva in between it and down the full length of your shaft and back, her tongue flat and obedient, slow and wandering where it wanted. 

Hyewon licked you clean, running her tongue in circles around your length, teasing in response as you stroked up and down.

In your other hand, like you needed it, you instinctively pulled up Hyewon’s profile, the quick strokes and key presses to get there like clockwork, burned into your memory. And as luck would have it, as if all the gods above shined on you at once, in her last selfie, Kang Hyewon poked a fat tongue out at the camera, unassuming, teasing, and throwing your lust into wanton overdrive.

“Fuck,” you rasp, breath hot, barely a whisper. “Hyewon, you’re so good at that.”

-

“Hyewon, you’re doing so well.”

“You’re doing great, Hyewon.”

Completely engulfed under a blanket, safeguarded by only moonlight, secrecy, and sin, Kang Hyewon indulged in the depths of her affirmations journal. One of her hands sloppily swapped between thumbing the play button on her screen and swiping through its pages, and the other hand buried itself deep in her sweatshorts. Hyewon craned her neck towards her phone, getting as close as she possibly could to the small speaker it sported as she cycled through soundbite after soundbite of your praise for her. Her other hand was busy at work, thumbing the alphabet over her clit as she ran two fingers up and down her needy cunt. 

She didn’t need to close her eyes long to imagine what she’d burned into her head over nights of repeating this exact sequence, her mouth drying up, breaths broken into short pants as she felt your hands work their way through her sides like she was chocolate, melting into your fingerprints. 

You thumbed lazily at her ribs, caressing the skin under her breasts, taking your time as you completely unwrapped her. The full length of your cock replaced where her fingers busily worked, sliding up and down across her sloppy entrance. 

The teasing is unbearable — there’s all this implication, tension, and slow burning in the rubbing between her inner thighs that you’re working with — and Hyewon puts all her energy into looking down at where you are. You catch her in your gaze, and through eyes half-lidded, there’s a beat where you’re both just staring — it could’ve been two, Hyewon was trying her best not to keep count.

“Please,” she tries, barely a whisper in the heat. And as she picks up the rhythm against her clit: “Please put your cock in me.”

Because as much as she craved the real thing — getting with her counselor? Could you imagine the optics?

She taps the button on her screen.

“Keep going, Kang Hyewon.”

---

;)

branfics debut! hope you enjoyed!! thank you @capslocked, @majorblinks, @praeluxius, @ggidolsmuts for pre-reading and just truly setting the standard — literally none of this comes out without the inspiration and LUV i get from being around yall

#kpop smut #kpop fanfic #reader insert #idol x male reader #idol x reader #izone smut #hyewon smut

[luveline]

currently thinking about sitting on ur bed with steve, and ur making him a friendship bracelet and u keep having to measure it over his wrist to see if it’s long enough yet. he would treasure that bracelet forever and ever.

this idea was so sweet it made me happy

Steve's in charge of music while your hands are busy. He plays top forty and you don't mind, humming along as the bracelet in your hand grows longer. The start taped to your baseboard, the two of you sit at the end of the bed, knees touching, the desk fan breezing a sweet relief through the humidity. 

"Can I have your wrist?" you ask him. 

"It's done?" he asks. 

"Not really. Just wanna see how much I gotta do. Here." 

You take his wrist into your hand and guide it up to the bracelet. It's only three quarters around, made up of colours you thought he might like; an orangey yellow, white and red, twined together with a terrible concentration. 

"You're gonna make that wrinkle permanent," he says, pulling his hand back. 

"What wrinkle?" 

"This one," he says. He draws a line between your eyebrows with the pad of his index finger, lightly and then less, as if trying to rub it away.

You bat his hand. "Shut up. You're older. If anyone's gonna get wrinkles it's you." 

"You're fucking ageist."

"I'm not fucking anybody."

"Shut up, leave me alone. Finish my bracelet." 

"You're so mean," you mutter, fingers sliding over threads, weaving one under another. 

The song changes and Steve leaps away from you to turn it up, fingers pinching the dial more intensely than he needs to. It's a girly dance song that make you laugh, especially when Steve starts to sing along. 

He doesn't try very hard but he's passionate and you love that, giggles making it hard to join in with him. He raises his eyebrows at you and his shoulders move from side to side in a half dance. 

He meanders towards you and takes your hands from your threading, pulling your arms, one then the other in time with the beat. 

"Steve." 

"Don't be a wet hankie." 

"You just told me to finish the bracelet!" 

"Dance intermission," he declares, bending so you're the same height. 

You indulge him and dance along even when it's a little awkward, your hands boiling hot in his, his smile blinding. For the last chorus he drops his grip and does a dramatic guitar solo that has you groaning. 

"You're embarrassing!" you declare, hands back on the friendship bracelet. "Stop doing that. Come here so I can measure you again." 

He trudges forward reluctantly, head thrown back and neck bared. He's hot when he sulks. Not that you notice. You grab at his fingers and pull him forward until you can wrap the bracelet around his wrist and measure it. It's long enough. You grin. 

"Is it finally done?" he asks. 

"I'd love to see you make one." 

He flops down on the bed behind you, stretched out on his back. "I'll make you one. You gotta teach me." 

You finish up the loose ends and peel off the tape, staring at it in your plam, extremely pleased with your efforts and the result. It's only a simple pattern, seven floss wide. It's nice. 

"Alright, Stevie, get ready," you say, turning on your knees to face him. 

He looks at you through pretty dark lashes in a way you might say was coy if you didn't know better.  

"Ready since the day I was born." 

"Uh-huh." 

You wrap the friendship bracelet around his wrist, careful not to touch him too much until you have to tie it closed. He has nice wrists, his veins stark ridges up his arm. You feel a warm flush come over you when you catch yourself thinking about them, hands trembling almost imperceptibly with your rush. 

Steve flicks your wrist gently. "You're shaking." 

"I'm tired from all the hard work," you say offhandedly. 

He throws his arm up between you, brandishing the bracelet as if it's made of solid gold. "It looks amazing." 

"Yeah?" you ask, a sliver of insecurity. 

"Are you kidding? It's cool. So cool. I don't get how you made it with string and nothing else." 

"You don't have to wear it-" you start. 

Steve cuts you off. "Shut up. I'll wear it. It's sick. I'm gonna wear it until it falls off, and then you have to make me another one." 

He drops his hand, turning to you and giving you a huge smile. You smile back, your happiness amplified by a thousand when he grabs your arm and gives you a good shake. 

"Thanks, bub." 

"You're welcome," you say, eyes on his fingers, how they pinch your skin. "Don't mention it." 

His hand slides up the length of your arm. "Wanna teach me how?" 

"You'll give up halfway through." 

"Maybe. Show me anyways." 

You're not in the habit of denying him anything he wants, so you teach him how to make the bracelet, and it's straggly and sometimes the pattern doesn't translate cleanly, but he finishes it. When he ties it around your wrists, every point of contact tingles. 

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine

[forlorn-crows]

CROW CROW CROWWWWWWW

PLS TELL ME PUPPY MOUNTAIN BREEDS DEW LIKE A GOOD DOG PLS

he is a very good boy

“Fuck, that’s it, puppy, so good,” Dew bites out, pressing his hips back until he’s fully speared on Mountain’s cock. He tugs the earth ghoul close by the leash, forcing him to press against his back and tuck his face into the space between his chin and shoulder. “Right there, you stay right there and fuck me like a good boy,” he hisses. Dew arches into the stretch, groaning when Mountain wraps his arms around his chest and ruts into his ass. It’s slow, almost hesitant at first.  But as soon as Dew looses another praise from his lips, Mountain is humping desperately, skin slapping against skin. 

The fire ghoul sinks into his frantic need, huffing out moans with each pass of the wide head against his prostate. It’s deep, dirty, and just how he likes it. 

“Yeah, fuck yes,” he laughs when Mountain starts whining in his ear. He can feel how heavy his balls are, how wet he is from having to wait while he fucked Dew with four of his fingers. “Come on, really pound me,” he groans. “Hump me like you mean it.”

Mountain moans long and low, voice jumping with each thrust. Dew pulls even harder on the leash, earning a yelp.

“Oh, fucking bark, bitch.” He bites his lip, mouth forming into a naughty grin as Mountain nearly pins him to the mattress. “Right there, right fucking there—” Mountain’s panting now, skinny hips moving as fast as they can as gets off on Dew’s filthy mouth and his hot, tight hole. He could call him all the names in the world, but he’d take them all for the reward of mindlessly fucking him. 

“Better knot me like a good dog,” Dew goes on. “Fill me up, make me catch. Tie me so tight you don’t even remember your own name.” Mountain nods furiously, whining low in his throat. “Yeah? Gonna breed me, fuck that fat knot right into this tight little ass?”

“Uh huh,” the earth ghoul groans, the closest thing to words he’s uttered this entire time.

“Stretch me so good, keep me locked tight when you make me cum.” Dew can’t help but reach down and give himself a good squeeze at the thought, a bead of precum welling at the tip. “Fuck—make me clench and milk you dry.”

It only takes a few more heated moments before Dew can feel the swell of Mountain’s knot pushing against his rim. It’s predictable, almost endearing how quickly he reacts to Dew like this, nothing but a desperate thing eager to pleasure and please. He strokes himself hot and fast, getting pretty needy himself. 

“Come on, beg for it, puppy,” Dew breathes. He drops the leash in favor of grabbing Mountain’s collar itself, yanking him even closer. “Let me hear you beg to pop it in.”

Mountain whimpers, struggling to string coherent words together. He manages please, knot you, lemme, before he gives up. 

Thankfully, Dew doesn’t make him repeat himself. “Good boy, put it in, fill me full,” he gasps. He twists his fist over the head of his cock, letting the momentum of Mountain’s thrusts fuck himself in and out of his hand. 

When Mountain finally shoves his knot in, he grips Dew’s hips and nearly howls.

#wow crow actually knows what a ficlet is this time #ask #miasma #puppy mountain #mountain ghoul #the band ghost #dewdrop ghoul #mountain/dew #dew/mountain #mountaindew #ghost fanfic #ghost fanfiction #the band ghost fanfic #ficlet #fanfic

[oreoluvskento]

I don't even know what to call this, more sexy time with nanami i guess

a/n: I wrote this a while ago and its just been sitting in my drafts, idk i feel like i should be ashamed, probably the nastiest thing i've written, i had no clue how to end this so just pretend the end doesnt exist

wc: 3.1k, its literally ALL SMUT

cw: afab y/n, black y/n, riled up nd horny nanami, nanami ties y/n's wrists, spits in her mouth, tearing clothes, face fucking, nanami loves eating pussy, use of sir by y/n, very slight degradation, slight praise, y/n is a good girl, edging, orgasm denial, aftercare, showering together, SLIGHT fluff at the end

Story begins after the cut

~~~~

You were scrolling through your phone later in the day, around the time that Nanami was wrapping up at work. A notification from Snapchat pops up, encouraging you to look through your memories. As you swipe through them, a video of you in a scandalous dress you wore out with your friends one night pops up. You remember that Nanami never got to see you in the dress, since you bought it that same day while you were shopping with them.

   You send it to Nanami immediately, along with the other pictures and videos you took that same night, not thinking much of it. A little bit later, he texts you back, letting you know he's on his way home. You heart the message, excited to see your boyfriend again and try to distract your excited mind by turning on the living room TV. It works, and you become invested in the reality show that was on. Fifteen minutes pass by and you hear the front door's lock begin to turn. 

   You practically run to the door to meet him and when the door finally opens, your smile widens. "Hi, babe!" You exclaim. "I missed y-" Nanami interrupts you by wrapping his hand around your throat and pulling you in for a particularly rough kiss. It catches you off guard but you quickly gather yourself, moaning in his mouth as you kiss him back. You're not sure when or where he put his briefcase down, but he was already pushing you against the wall, his hand shoving its way up your shirt, fondling your boobs. 

   "Angel," Nanami pants and you moan in response. "Why would you send me pictures like that while I'm at work?" He asks and nips your neck. 

    "Didn't think they'd make you react like this," You sigh as he sucks on the area underneath your jaw. 

    "I sped the entire way home just to see you sooner. You had me hard in a meeting, angel, but thankfully I was sitting down. I think this deserves a punishment, yeah?" He growls and you groan as he moves his hand from your neck down to your throbbing pussy. 

    "I'm sorry-" A moan ripples through your body as he begins rubbing your clothed clit, cutting your sentence short. 

     "I know, beautiful, but I can't just let it slide, now can I?" He asks, his lips still against your neck and his fingers moving faster. You shake your head, knowing if you open your mouth to answer him, you'll moan. "Good girl," He smiles and picks you up, leading you to your bedroom. He drops you onto the bed and begins to remove his tie. You reach up to do it and he flashes you a confused look, making you immediately lean back down. 

   "Did I ask you to help me?" He asks and you shake your head, feeling slightly ashamed but you feel yourself get more aroused. He takes the tie off and holds it in one hand. "Arms out," He commands and you immediately do as he says. You hold back a smile as he ties your wrists together. You were grateful that your boyfriend was usually very sweet and caring towards you but ever since the first time you were "punished", you found yourself craving it more and more. Of course, you didn't make Nanami angry on purpose, you wouldn't be able to enjoy the aftermath in good conscience, so these moments were very rare and you made sure to savor them as much as possible. 

    All you were wearing was a sports bra and a loose pair of shorts and Nanami could see your hardened nipples through the material, making him even harder. He contemplates going easy on you today but then the images of you in the dress flash through his mind and he gets riled up again. "I'm going to rip this off of you," He warns, not giving you any time to react properly before doing it. 

   Before you know it, your top is on the floor, ripped at the straps and at the back, and your jaw drops. Before you can complain, Nanami shoves his thumb into your mouth, silencing you immediately. "I'll buy you a new one. Now come here," You scoot towards the edge of the bed and watch as he removes his belt and unbuttons his pants. He pulls his hard dick out and you feel your mouth water as you anticipate feeling the weight of it on your tongue. As if he could read your mind, Nanami tells you to stick your tongue out. 

   You do as he says and instead of him putting his dick on your tongue, he grabs your face and spits in your mouth. You moan at his actions, trying to stop yourself from rutting against the bed, and he follows up by finally slapping his dick against your tongue. You sit there as he swipes his head back and forth on the muscle, awaiting instruction. Nanami smiles at your good behavior and he gives you the go-ahead. Unable to use your hands, you take his dick into your mouth using your tongue and suck your way down slowly. "That's my girl... so fucking good for me," He growls.

   Nanami loved watching you like this, submissive and obedient to him. You took his dick so well; that was one of his favorite things about you. Whether it was in your pussy or in your mouth, you always had him moaning. He watches his length disappear into your mouth, your eyes looking up at his through your long lashes, as you bobbed your head back and forth and it made his dick twitch. Nanami grabs your head and pulls it completely off his dick, watching as a string of saliva hangs from it, and slowly slides it back into your mouth. You take it happily, causing him to groan and he continues like that, slowly fucking your face. He pushes his cock into your cheek and takes a mental picture of you, smiling to himself. 

   He begins going faster and you can tell he's about to come soon. He pushes further down your throat as he thrusts, causing your eyes to water at the sudden roughness. Nanami watches as the tears fall down your face as he continues using your face as a fleshlight and it makes him want to go deeper. It's not like he was into tears, he never wanted to see you cry, but the first time he noticed you crying during sex, it was wraps. Your tear-stained face looked so beautiful whenever he would fuck you, so much so that it made him question his sanity a little bit. 

   You're audibly gagging as he's abusing your throat, his eyebrows furrowed and his head thrown back as he nears his own orgasm. His thrusts become sloppy and he begins groaning louder. "Fuck, baby, you look so beautiful with my dick in your mouth," He growls. "You're going to be a good girl and let me cum on your face, yeah? Show me how sorry you are for teasing me today."

    You hum in response, your pussy already incredibly wet, and Nanami loses control. The vibration of your throat against his tip causes him to lean over slightly, pushing his dick deeper into your throat and he feels the cum begin to rise up his shaft. He quickly pulls out, stroking his dick, and finishes on your face and in your mouth. You feel the warmth on your cheek, your tongue, and the tip of your nose. As Nanami catches his breath, you take his dick into your mouth once more, bobbing your head and sucking his tip, beckoning any remaining cum to be released into your mouth. 

    Nanami curses as he feels himself in your mouth again, the pleasure almost too much. He pulls out of you and lifts your chin, your cum-decorated face looking back up at him. He leans in, and you think he's going to kiss you, so when you feel his tongue drag across your cheek, it catches you by surprise. He shoves his tongue into your mouth and you moan when you taste his nut on his tongue, realizing what he's doing. He massages his tongue with yours and when he pulls away again, he does the same thing. Nanami repeats this until your face is clean, and finally kisses you properly.

    It's sloppy, and you love it, enjoying how riled up he is, wondering if he's been holding himself back for the past few days that you came home tired from studying. He lays you down as he kisses you, pulling your bound wrists over your head. You continue kissing him as you feel his hand slide into your shorts and run his fingers up and down your pussy. He groans as he feels how wet you are, and he pulls away to pull them down. You wore underwear today, and he slightly frowned as he pulled that off too. You found that funny, but you decided against laughing. 

   "Sucking my dick got you this wet?" He asks as he pushes a finger inside of you, and your eyes roll to the back of your head, nodding at his question. He shakes his head as he continues fucking you with one finger. "Fucking slut," He spits and you unknowingly clench at his words. He begins going faster and you're panting now, wanting to come.  

   "Ken, 's not enough, need more, please," You whine and he stops all the way. You cry at the loss of stimulation and he grabs your face once again, your lips slightly squishing together. 

   "Ken?" He questions and your eyes widen at your mistake. 

   "'M sorry sir, I forgot," You quickly say and he lets go. He goes back to fucking you with his middle finger, going slower this time, and you moan at the feeling. He pushes his thumb against your clit and your back arches as you gasp. He continues rubbing circles into your clit and fingering you with one finger, not speeding up. Nonetheless, you feel your orgasm coming on. Nanami feels it too, with the way you're clenching around him, and he adds another finger. Nanami smiles as you cry out in pleasure, your breathing getting faster. 

    "Sir, please don't stop, I'm gonna cum," You pant and he stops anyway. You groan as you watch him lick his fingers and lie down in front of you. Your attitude quickly changes as he holds your legs open in front of him. You watch as he puts his face in between your legs, and you expect to feel his tongue on your clit, but instead you feel it circling around it, never touching it. It turns you on but ultimately, you just want your clit in his mouth. You begin bucking your hips, trying to tell him that you want him to stop teasing you, and he lightly slaps your thigh, stopping your movements altogether. 

   "Stay fucking still," He growls and you do as he says. You feel yourself shake as you try not to move, your chest rising and falling each time he misses your clit. Finally, he slurps your clit into his mouth and a shiver runs through your body. Nanami begins to relentlessly eat you out, the sounds coming from his mouth unbelievably loud. You feel yourself nearing the edge again and it takes all of your willpower to stop yourself from grinding on his face. 

    Nanami hears your breathing pick up and your moans get louder and he knows you're close. He pulls away again, laughing as you groan in frustration. He kisses the inside of your thighs, allowing you to catch your breath. You watch him as he rubs your clit softly, applying minimal pressure and he presses a wet kiss to the sensitive nub. Without warning, he starts lapping at it again, your legs automatically closing around his head at the sensation. Nanami pulls your legs apart as he continues his ministrations and inserts a single finger inside you. 

    Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he continues and he locates your G-spot immediately, his finger brushing against the squishy pad. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you feel a warmth wash over you, a sign that you are nearing your orgasm again. "Sir, please, I'm close. Please let me come," You whine and Nanami pulls away once again. He sits up and smiles at your chest, which is rising and falling rapidly. 

   He lifts your hips and aligns himself with your entrance, a devious look on his face. "You know, I still haven't decided if you're even going to come at all," He says and your eyes widen. 

   You begin to apologize profusely, not wanting to be left like this. "Sir, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to tease you! Please let me cum, I'll be good, please, I'm sorry!" You cry and Nanami raises an eyebrow at your desperation. He wasn't going to leave you high and dry, he'd never do that, and you knew that too, but your submissive instinct took over. He pushes into you slowly, your eyebrows furrowing as you feel him filling you up. Once he bottoms out, he leans down and kisses you, neater this time, and you kiss him back happily. 

    "Don't come without my permission, understand?" He asks and you nod. He kisses you one last time before sitting up and pulling out of you. He thrusts back in and you grunt at the sudden force. You're still teetering on the edge of your previous impending orgasm so you're already feeling close. Nanami easily slides in and out of you, your pussy so wet that the sounds are adding to his pleasure. He holds your legs open as he continues, his own orgasm threatening to arrive. 

   Your moans get louder, and you begin to feel bad for your neighbors. Nanami feels the same and he covers your mouth, telling you to be quieter. Ironically, he goes faster and harder, leaning down and hanging your leg off of his shoulder as he hits your G-spot over and over. You begin repeating his name from behind his hand, your voice muffled. He removes it and you inform him of your current status. 

    "Gonna come, sir. So, so close, please let me come," You pant and he goes faster, changing the way he's stroking. He pushes your legs back further, your thighs now pressed into your chest. You feel him deeper than before and you attempt to push him away, to stop yourself from coming, but he just pushes your wrists back. 

   "You'll take it, and you won't come until I say so," He rasps and you groan. Nanami doesn't change his pace and continues attacking your G-spot. You're clenching him tight, even you can feel it, as you try not to come. Nanami goes faster, fighting against the muscles in your pussy, and you just know you won't last much longer. Finally, you feel his hips begin to stutter and he begins rubbing your clit, slowly to start off. 

    "You want to come?" He asks and you nod aggressively. "You promise you won't do that again? That you'll always be a good girl for me?" He's rubbing your clit faster now, and you feel yourself start to slip. You give him a broken yes and he gains control of himself again and begins to pummel into you. "Go ahead and come all over my dick, baby," He says and you do just that. 

    Your orgasm knocks the wind out of you. Your head goes blank as you writhe underneath him, unsure of if he's coming as well. Nanami's orgasm took him as soon as yours did. You began gushing all over his dick and he couldn't hold on anymore. He has to hold your hips down as you come so you don't roll off the bed. You don't know how long your orgasm lasts, but Nanami fucks you through the entire thing. When you're done, he unties you and helps you lay on him, your head on his chest. 

    Once you've caught your breath you look up at Nanami, who's lying with his eyes closed. You press a kiss to his jaw and he opens his eyes to look at you. "I missed you," You tell him, your voice tired. He turns his body over slightly as he kisses your forehead, holding the back of your neck. 

    "I missed you too, angel. You okay? It wasn't too much right?" He asks, referring to what you two just did. No matter how rough he is, Nanami always makes sure you're okay afterward and you love it. This was honestly one of the more tame experiences you've had with him and he's still here, eyebrows furrowed, worried if you're alright. 

    You laugh softly, your hand on his. "I'm okay, Ken. It was perfect," You assure him as you straddle him and press a soft kiss to his lips. He stays still as you kiss him, allowing your lips to meet for a quick second before you sit back up.

   Nanami watches as you unbutton his shirt for him. He didn't realize that he never took it off until now and it made him laugh. Usually, the routine is for him to come home and you help him get undressed. He'd take a shower and you'd always be waiting on the bed for him when he got out to help him get dressed in his casual clothes. Today, however, he got a little distracted. 

    You smile as you reach the last button, and you open the shirt, revealing his chest. His body was something you don't think you'd ever get used to. No matter how many times you've seen him shirtless, you still couldn't help but stare every time. Nanami sits up as you're staring, his face parallel to yours as he shrugs his top off. "Shower with me?" He asks you as he closes the gap between your faces. 

    Your forehead rests on his as a smile spreads across your face. "Duh," You say in a joking tone, and Nanami stands up with your legs holding onto his waist. Like always, he puts you down on the counter as he turns on the water. As it runs, he comes back over to you and gives you a quick kiss as he runs his knuckles down your face. 

    "I can't believe I've never seen those pictures before, y/n. You looked too good for me to even comprehend. I'm happy I saw it when I saw it, I probably would've left work early if I picked up my phone a little earlier." He tells you and you laugh, slightly embarrassed. The two of you shower, eat dinner afterwards, and spend the rest of the day in bed together.

#jjk nanami #nanami kento #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #jjk smut #nanami kento smut #nanami smut #nanami x black reader #nanami x black!reader

[eternal-kosmo-ghoul]

*°:⋆ₓₒ day 4. bondage

.｡❅*⋆⍋*∞*｡ “red ribbon”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — ❤︎ there was leftover ribbon from gift wrapping that you decided to use, and maybe you’re just the best gift for rain

pairing: rain ghoul x gn!reader

a/n: i’m so down bad for rain 🧎 and the bondage too 🧎 holy shit 🧎might be a little shorter than the last few fics

cw: nsfw content. bondage. overstimulation. forced orgasm. slight objectification. degradation. mean rain but rain is great at aftercare.

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“mmmh… i just knew what you wanted when you looked at me like that. now here you are, looking so ready for me.” —❤︎

┅✦┅

“you still with me, baby?”

a choked out groan escaped your throat.

“hmm, good to know you still have some in ya.”

the water ghoul just circled the bed slowly, his movements calculated and precise as he observed your current form. you looked so pretty, so good just for him.

laced red ribbon tied on all of your limbs. ankles and wrists. you were completely bound to the bed by this silky fabric, all at rain’s mercy. he flashed a toothy smirk towards your fucked out face, and you could only whimper pathetically in response to his expression.

how did you end up in this predicament?

well, you and rain were in the middle of wrapping presents for the ministry. the bassist was finishing up putting together his gift for phantom, before he realized that he had leftover ribbon.

the conversation went a little something like this

—

“ah, looks like i have a few extra ribbon.”

“you do? well, at least it’s good to have some in case it comes in handy.”

“… oh it will come in handy alright.”

“hm?”

“y/n, do you mind helping me with my last gift?”

“… sure.”

“perfect.”

—

little did you know, the gift was you. rain even had the gall to tie up a little laced ribbon collar on your neck, tying the loose ends into a pretty little bow that almost felt mocking.

and that little shit was reveling in it. he loved how helpless you looked underneath his command. the ribbon was so easy to tear off, but you were too weak from all of your previous orgasms that you could barely even move your limbs. only the occasional twitch would happen, but not like that could help.

rain liked it. he was treating himself to a nice gift, and of course, he was going to take full advantage of his new toy.

“mmmh… i just knew what you wanted when you looked at me like that. now here you are, looking so ready for me.” rain teased, his smirk filled with a taunting aura that had you squirming against your delicate restraints, but of course you couldn’t break free.

not like rain would let you anyways.

he crawled over onto the bed, his cock hard and leaking with so much precum. rain wrapped his webbed fingers around his shaft before pumping himself a few times, lubing himself up with the leaking liquid from the head of his cock.

no matter how many times he had made you cum with his dick, rain seemed to be completely unfazed by how many times he came. he was just interested in making you a puddle of pleasure in his very hands.

“mmmh.. is that what you wanted? you wanted to be my little fucktoy for this year?” he asked mockingly as he lined his cock against your entrance.

“my little fuck doll for me to enjoy. to use and spit on like a fucking cum rag? yeah? sounds like you’d like that.”

you couldn’t even respond to what rain said, because he didn’t even give you a chance to. before you knew it, rain had completely thrusted his hardened length into you, making you cry out from the searing pain of it and the overwhelming amount of pleasure you feel from it.

“g-gahh!!” you wailed.

“nnngh there we go.. there’s the good ol’ slut talking.” rain chided, his leer still as mean as ever.

the water ghoul could be such a bully sometimes.

rain smirked and slammed his hips into your tight, aching sex at a reckless abandon. he didn’t even bother starting out slow, oh he was just railing you like crazy, using your body for his own pleasure.

“f-fuck you’re tight.. hah.. this is definitely not your first time taking a ghoul’s dick.” rain panted out, his groans and grunts quickly turning into taunting chuckles.

“ahhh you’ve definitely been fuckin’ the other ghouls. what? was one dick not enough for ya? you just had to go and be a little slut? taking other demons loads like a filthy whore.” he snarled out, his thrusts getting more erratic and speedy.

you could only cry out in choked up moans, eyes tearing up from the sheer pleasure. your wrists were red from how the tightly the ribbon was tied around your wrists.

and rain’s words stung, but fuck did he turn you on so much.

“r-rain! fuck!” you tried to protest his accusations, but his cock kept slamming into your sweet spot that made you scream with pleasure.

“tell me, doll face. how many times have you caught onto dew’s knot? or sucked swiss’ dick? or let mountain use that monster fucking cock to treat you to a real good time? eh? doesn’t that sound nice for a little sex toy like you?” rain sneered, hips snapping into yours harshly, making you cry out in pure euphoria.

“rain—!” you tried to manage out. thrust. cut off again. you wanted to cry even more from the frustration of rain being so cruel with you. but, you were struggling so hard to deal with your frustration and horninesa at the same time.

“dirty fuckin’ slut, look at how sloppy you are, making a mess all over my fucking cock.” the water ghoul mocked, chuckling devilishly as he observed your fucked out face, watching your body jolt as he thrusted more into you.

“ohh and you’ve made a mess all over my bed too, just from how many times you’ve cum from my body.” he reminisced, sighing in satisfaction as he watched your face.

you could only nod weakly in response, and rain took this as a signal to keep going.

he went harder, and harder and harder. his balls drew tight against his body, and he could feel another release coming on soon.

his fingers gripped your hips tightly as he fucked your abused hole over and over again, which was already twitching with overstimulation. your body was completely restrained to the bed, unable to move or do anything at all.

you were at rain’s mercy.

and he wasn’t showing any at all.

“f-fuck, y/n! you’re so fucking tight around me! you want it? tell me you fuckin’ want it!” rain moaned out, and you just let out a series of erotic moans in response.

“aaah! y-yes! yes i want this, rain! i want you, i want your cock!” you screeched, and he let out a lustful chuckle.

“now that’s what i wanna hear! i’m gonna fuck this little hole allll throughout this christmas season… and you are going to fucking like it.” rain growled out.

you felt like your body was on fire. you didn’t know if you could take another orgasm, but the way rain was slamming into you had you seeing stars. rain was treating you so cruelly, and you didn’t know if you wanted to cry more, or cum so hard that you would black out.

“you want this?”

“rain—“

“you want my cum? want to take my seed like a good little slut?”

“rain—!”

“mmmh, looks like you want it.”

“fuck!”

that did it for you. you screamed rain’s name and came everywhere, the sticky liquid staining your lower regions and rain’s stomach. he seemed to follow shortly after too, because you could hear rain groans loudly and shoot his hot, thick cum inside of you, filling your hole up to the brim.

he sighed heavily and pulled out after a few moments, a trial of cum oozing out from your hole and onto the tip of his dick. rain hunched over slightly, panting heavily while you still did too.

after a bit, the lust was subsiding from rain’s eyes, and he huffed, before leaning over to undo the ribbons bounding your wrists together.

“you did good tonight, babe.” rain whispered softly, knowing your body was completely spent from how many rounds you both just did.

you whined as rain drew your body close to his, body occasionally jolting from the aftershocks of pleasure. he sighed, kissing the top of your forehead in a manner that was a complete contrast to his mean demeanor earlier.

he smiled and stroked your hair lovingly, whispering in your ear.

“good little plaything.”

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#holiday hoes event #ghost fanfiction #rain ghoul #rain x reader #rain smut #rain x you #rain ghoul smut #the band ghost x reader #the band ghost smut #the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost bc smut #smutty drabble #smutty fanfiction #christmas #christmas prompts #holiday prompts

[beybaldes]

I love to love to love to love you

summer sleepover masterlist

roy kent x gn!reader

summary : "i think i might be falling for you" *laugh* “good one” requested by anon

content warning : allusions to smut but non written

an : fake dating brain rot is real and I am it’s number 1 sufferer

“I think I might be falling for you.”

Roy Kent had promised you nothing about this was real. He’d promised you it so often, in fact, that you sometimes found yourself saying it under your breath like a mantra.

This isn’t real. He doesn’t really love you. All of this is for show.

And now here he was, in your kitchen at 3 am, the two of you back from yet another charity event where you’d spent the whole evening all over each other, claiming that he had genuine feelings for you.

He was breaking your heart and he didn’t even know it.

The press loved the two of you together; absolutely ate it up. Which, unfortunately for your poor heart, meant every public interaction the two of you shared was filled with handholding and kisses, him holding you almost too close and too tightly. You couldn’t escape him; even behind closed doors when it was just the two of you, it seemed.

Maybe he did really like you like that.

This isn’t real. He doesn’t really love you. All of this is for show.

The only reason the two of you were together was because it was convenient. Roy had reminded you so plenty of times. The press focused more on your relationship then they did on your individual careers nowadays; meaning Roy’s knee and soon-to-end career was glossed over and no one bothered you with stupid ‘why didn’t you book this role in x,y or z’ in every interview.

You couldn’t stop the laugh that slipped past your lips. “Good one, Roy.” You took another sip of the tea you’d made the both of you, knowing that Roy would need time to calm down before he’d be able to sleep after a night out. “But we both know that’s not true.”

“How can it not be true if I’m outright telling you?”

This isn’t real. He doesn’t really love you. All of this is for show.

“Because you’ve made it very clear that non of this is real and that fake dating me is convenient.”

Roy reached for your hand across the counter top, keeping the other wrapped around the mug of tea you’d made up for him. Since the two of you had started fake dating, the orange shark mug had essentially become Roy’s - it being the only one he’d use when he found himself in your kitchen, which was more often then not. “That was then. Now, though, it, this, it’s different.”

“How?”

“I don’t know, it just fucking is.” Roy placed his mug back down with a thud, ignoring the way the tea inside spilled over the lip and onto the counter top. “You just- I don’t- you’ve got me all fucked inside and I can’t even think straight around you anymore.” Roy scoffed, harshly pulling at his tie so it hung loose around his neck as he walked around the counter, straight towards you until you were trapped between his chest and the edge of the counter. “It’s fucking stupid.”

“You’re fucking stupid.” You countered, not giving him the opportunity to respond as you grabbed his tie, yanking his lips to yours in the most passionate, messy kiss the two of you had shared so far. The kisses you’d so far shared with Roy had never escalated past a quick peck, enough to appease the press and keep up your appearance as a couple in love, but now, his tongue had pushed past your lips, his hands had moved to under your thighs and prompted you to jump, aiding him in getting you onto the counter top. “You really like me? Like, for real?”

“Of course I fucking do.” Roy pressed another kiss to your lips, not pulling away until you were practically clawing at his shirt, trying your hardest to pry the buttons open for your own sake of sanity. “How can I prove it to you?”

“I can think of a few ways.”

#beybaldes summer sleepover !! #roy kent one shot #roy kent x reader #roy kent imagine #ted lasso imagine

[blueicequeen19]

best friend rafe taking advantage of a very drunk reader maybe please?

Unsteady

Warnings: NON/CON

You stumble in the dark hallway, unsure which door belongs to Sarah. You'd only been inside her room once and with your state of mind along with the hallway of endless doors, you felt lost. You'd had way too much to drink. You were borderline black out drunk, not even sure how you made it up the stairs by yourself when a firm arm wraps around your waist.

"Easy there, I got you. You're a little unsteady." You recognize that husky voice as he hauls you closer, expensive cologne filling your head.

"I'm looking f-f-for--" Your words slur together and you hear him chuckle as he helps guide you further down the hall.

"I know, I know. Sarah sent me to help you. You're safe with me." You relaxed against your best friend's older brother, letting him guide your unsteady movements before he finally scoops you up in his arms. You loosely wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face there just as another set of stairs comes into view and Rafe makes his way up them. Rafe's arms stiffen around you as he holds you closer, his hands hot to the touch against your skin due to the very revealing clothing. You'd wanted someone's attention tonight and it looked like you had it. But it couldn't be Rafe. Rafe was bad news and cruel to his sister. Surely he'd only be worse to you.

"Where are--."

"Shh." Rafe shushes you before gently lowering you to the softest bed you'd ever felt. Your eyes fall shut as Rafe lets his fingers trail over your exposed skin.

"Do you want to be in something a little more comfortable?" Rafe asks, his fingers brushing over the hem of your skirt. You try to blink open your eyes but they're so heavy so all you do is nod. You were over the too tight clothing and heels anyway.

You feel him gently slip your heels off, his large hands massaging the sore soles of your feet. You can't help but moan softly as he rubs away the ach you'd felt for hours tonight. His hands move higher, finding the zipper on the side of your skirt and slowly lowering it.

"Is this okay? Just want to take care of you." Rafe's soft, gentle voice has you nodding in agreement. Maybe Sarah was wrong about her brother. He was so gentle and warm. No one had ever given you much thought let alone to take care of you while you were drunk. You feel the cool air hit your exposed flesh as Rafe slowly peels the fabric away from your body, his hand brushing your mound in the process. You bite back a moan as pleasure zaps through your body. Rafe curses under his breath and you start to wonder if something is wrong.

"Your top is wet. Do you want me to take it off too? You'll feel better." You mumble incoherently in agreement, gently nodding your head. Your mother would kill you if she say the scrap of material you wore as a top. It showed more skin than it covered, only held together by a thin tie around your neck and lower back. You pull at the one around your neck, feeling less restricted as it came loose while Rafe slid his hand under your back, pulling the other string loose. Your top is removed and the rush of cool air hardens your pert nipples into painful points. Your breathing comes quicker, some many sensations hitting you all at once that your skin flushes

"You're so beautiful." Rafe's voice sounds lower and strained, like he's struggling to catch his own breath. You moan his name, reaching for him, oblivious to how painfully hard you were making him.

"Don't leave." You mumble.

"I won't leave you. I'll keep you safe." Rafe reassures you, his hand rubbing your thigh gently to comfort you. You relaxed further, willingly the buzzing in your body to subside. Everything was hot. You were glad he'd gotten rid of your tight clothing although you were still burning up. You gasp when something wet and warm finds your nipple, sending sparks down your spine and causing your hips to jerk.

"Oh." You moan, feeling your other nipple being pulled and tugged on while the other was gently sucked and licked.

"I'm just trying to help you relax. You're okay, sweet girl. I'm taking care of you." Rafe murmurs, his mouth moving down your soft stomach. "You trust me?" The heat of his mouth fans across your pussy, making you clench around nothing as your clit throbbed.

"Yes." You murmur, feeling the thin fabric of your thong being slid down your legs.

"This looks like it hurts. Do you want me to help make it stop?" Rafe asks softly, thumbing your swollen, slick nub. It wasn't until that moment that you realized how wet you were. You were always a horny drunk but nothing to this extreme. Your thighs were slick and sticky already.

"I-it does h-hurt." You breathe softly, widening your legs on instinct. Your hand reaches for him, finding his shoulder just as his mouth finds your clit. Soft pants leave your lips as Rafe gently laps up your messy slit. Rafe licks you like you're an ice cream cone on a warm, summer day; taking his time to savor the flavor. It's not enough. If anything it heightens your need for more. All you could think was more, more, more. You wanted to be filled. Your pussy practically begging to be stuffed full.

"R-Rafeeeee," you whine, your hands grabbing at his buzzed head.

"Tell me, sweetheart. Tell me what you want. Do you need more? I don't think this is helping you." Rafe says gently, flicking your clit with his tongue. You nod eagerly, bending your knees to open yourself wider.

"Please, more."

You feel him pull away, the bed dipping with his movements before you hear the sound of a belt being removed. You were trembling with anticipation, nothing more important than what your body needed in this moment. The bed dips again as you feel him kneeling between your legs, his hands gently cupping your thighs to bring you closer.

"Rafe." You hand finds his toned abdomen, panic filling you for a moment. Were you really doing this?

"Shh, it's okay. Relax. I'm going to take care of you. Don't worry yourself. I got you." Rafe whispers reassuringly, just before you feel something thick and hot press against your entrance. It was thick. Too thick to go inside you. You open your mouth to say something - anything - when he pushes inside and past the slight resistance from not being prepared properly. Your back arches off the bed, a loud moan flying from your mouth as he quickly bottoms out, touching your insides so deep it hurts. You could feel your poor lips stretched to the max to accommodate his size.

"Fuck. Shit." Rafe bites out, rolling his hips to meet yours, stretching you out the best he can with what little restraint he has left. "Goddamn. So tight and wet." Rafe lets out a low, sexy moan that has you clenching hard around him. You open your mouth to moan again, your nails biting into his biceps when his chest meets yours, his mouth silencing you with a hard kiss before he starts to fuck you.

#smutwarning #outer banks smut #rafe x you #dark!rafe cameron #obx2 #outer banks x reader #obx 3 #dark content #tw non con #tw noncon #Rafe Cameron #rafe cameron x smut #Rafe Cameron x you

[hesbuckcompton-baby]

I'm Your Man - Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal x OFC - Chapter 3

Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 |-| Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11

AO3

Summary: In the wake of a terrible loss, the arrival of a new airman at Thorpe Abbotts promises to change the trajectory of Frankie's life forever

Warnings: Death, grief

Word Count: 3.9k

Tags: @mads-weasley @xxluckystrike @curaheehee @footprintsinthesxnd @dcyllom @storysimp @latibvles

A/N: HE'S HEREEEE 🗣🗣🗣

It was dark in the mechanics' hut, the lights kept off during the day to preserve power, but the overcast nature of the afternoon did nothing to light the space from the outside. Hours had passed since the pilots had left, and although Frankie was never made privy to the specifics of their missions, she could tell by the amount of fuel that had been requested that they were going far, much further than they ever had before. There was not a man among them who hadn't seemed to have a dark cloud over his head as they had prepared to depart that morning.

She and Lemmons sat on the floor together, backs propped up against the wall, both too troubled by worry to work. Frankie had an old fashion magazine in her lap, and they passed the time by flicking through each section and poking fun at a myriad of ugly sweaters and ridiculous hats.

"Those are nice," Ken stated, pointing at a pair of green brogued shoes.

"Seriously? I think they're garish."

He shrugged. "My Fonda has some like it. They look nice on her."

She let out a low whistle, teasingly nudging his side as his face turned bright red, a satisfied smile curling his lips. For a boy as young as he was, he sure loved Fonda. Frankie had noticed the heart-shaped locket that hung from his neck the very first day they'd worked together, but it had taken weeks for him to let her have a look inside. It must have been nice to be loved the way she was.

The magazine was losing its charm. It had been over an hour, and they were running out of pages. With a huff, she tossed it across the room, landing in a heap of crumpled pages underneath the table. Ken looked over at her, raising a brow.

She shrugged. "Bored. Want a cigarette?"

Without waiting for an answer, Frankie dug around in her pocket and produced two loose, slightly bent cigarettes, passing one to Lemmons. She lit hers swiftly, taking in an inhale of smoke. He rolled his between his fingers, never bothering to light it. Sometimes she forgot he didn't smoke.

"I'm gonna take you for a drink tonight. We deserve it."

"I'm nineteen."

Frankie stared at him for a long moment. "...So?"

"So, I can't drink."

"Jesus Christ. Welcome to England mate, you might be the only nineteen-year-old currently in the country who doesn't already have a drinking problem."

He opened his mouth to respond, but before the words could emerge they were interrupted by a rapid knocking at the door. Far from the usual pounding thuds the men usually used, this knock was delicate, polite, but its urgency set Frankie's heart to beating twice as fast.

Scrambling to her feet, she rushed for the door, tossing her cigarette into the ashtray on the table as she passed. Hauling it open, a wave of nausea coursed through her as she saw George standing outside, hair damp from the drizzle, tie pulled loose away from her neck, her eyes red and puffy from crying.

"Wh-" Frankie trailed off as she slammed into her, gripping her in the tightest hug she'd ever felt. As she wrapped her arms around George's back, she could feel her shaking beneath her palms.

George let out one sob after another, face buried in Frankie's shoulder as her tears soaked the fabric of her coveralls. Looking back over at Lemmons, their gazes met in wide-eyed expressions of anxiety, and if George hadn't been crying so loudly Frankie was sure the thumping of her heart would've been audible.

"George- George," She spoke firmly, hands pressed to George's cheeks as she forced her to meet her eye. To be so harsh to a woman who needed nothing but softness ripped a hole through her, the guilt churning her stomach, but she needed to know. "Tell me what happened."

She nodded hurriedly, wiping her tears away with the backs of her hands. "They made it to Africa - we started getting messages through about an hour ago, but, uh..." George's lip trembled, and she sucked in a long, haggard breath. "Curt's dead, Frankie."

Lemmons let out some sort of strangled gasp as Frankie felt all of the blood drain from her face. For a moment she didn't know how to process the words, she just knew she needed to hold George - to hold her tight, tighter than anyone ever had. There was not an inch between them as she stroked a gentle hand through her golden hair, trying with all her might to keep breathing as she felt a warm tear roll down her cheek.

Over George's shoulder, she spied Ken making for the door, a frown casting a shadow over his boyish face. He met her eyes, and she offered him a nod, freeing him from the scene so he could inevitably tell the others.

The two women held each other for a long moment, Frankie's chin burrowed against George's collar. When she finally spoke, it was little more than a hoarse whisper, her throat suddenly dry as a bone.

"...And Bucky?"

Sniffing loudly, George pulled back, shaking her head. "No, no, he's okay. He made it to Algeria." Frankie hadn't released she was holding her breath until she let it escape her, raising a hand to cover her mouth as she nodded.

"Yeah? Yeah. Alright," She could worry about the others later - for now, knowing Egan was alive was enough to settle her drumming heart. "You need to go home, ok? You need to rest."

"My shift's not over, I still have to-"

"I am gonna walk up there myself and tell them you're not coming back today. Not tomorrow, neither. And if they've got a problem with that they can take it up with me - believe me, I don't give a shit if I take an insubordination charge over this."

A tearful smile broke out across George's face, holding onto Frankie's hand as it cupped her cheek. "Tangling with you? I don't fancy their chances."

Frankie chuckled, pulling her into one last hug and pressing her lips firmly to her temple. "Go, go. I'll see you soon, ok?"

"Yeah," She whispered against her neck, reaching out to squeeze her hand as she broke the hug, stepping backwards towards the door and disappearing.

As soon as she was alone, Frankie sucked in a long, laboured breath, collapsing into one of the rickety chairs that surrounded the table in the middle of the room. Doubling forward, she lay her head in her hands, pressing the heels of her palms against her eyes as she focused on taking one breath after the next.

Since the war had begun, she had been cycling through phases of fear and calm, letting herself slip into the all too comfortable belief that it couldn't touch her here - couldn't take from her as long as she was home, as long as she was safe.

But God, how the world kept proving her wrong.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Almost a month had passed. Every mission took a toll, but the trip that had killed Curtis Biddick seemed to hang heavier than any other ever had.

Or perhaps it just seemed that way because of George.

Some nights Frankie would stay up late, rubbing exhaustion from her eyes as she fought to stay awake long enough to finish a chapter of her book, lit by the dim bulb of her bedside lamp. And then in the darkness she would hear a rustling, a casting aside of the course, army-issue bedsheets, and feel a weight press into the mattress beside her as George slipped under the covers, silently resting her head against Frankie's shoulder. She liked to listen to her heartbeat on the nights she felt most alone - when she felt the farthest from home, the most separated from the boy she almost loved - it brought her comfort to listen to that telltale sign of life radiating from the person closest to her. She had someone, and that was enough to live with.

Frankie had liked Curt, but she hadn't known him well. Sometimes she wished she had, if only so that she wouldn't feel so guilty, comforting her best friend over a loss she no longer felt so keenly. Instead, all she could do was softly whisper the words she was reading to her, and let her mere presence be the comfort as they both drifted off to sleep.

It had grown warm overnight, and the humidity combined with the heat of George's body burrowed close next to hers left Frankie slick with sweat by the time she woke up, her hair sticking to her neck in damp strands. Peeling the covers away as she clambered out of bed, careful not to disturb her sleeping friend, she made a beeline for the showers, hoping to wash away the unpleasant, sticky sensation that coated her skin. She was used to evening showers after a long day's work, and it felt strange to stare down at the hot water rolling off of her body and see it come away clear, clean, not streaked with the dirt and oil she was often coated with by the time she made it home each night.

Wringing her hair out with a towel as she made her way out of the bathroom, Frankie dodged the other women emerging from their beds as she reached her own area, her coveralls and workboots waiting for her on a nearby chair. George had moved back to her own bed, carefully removing each of the curlers she meticulously applied every night, just like all of the other servicewomen who were afforded the luxury of working indoors, a far cry from Frankie's reality. It wasn't that Frankie didn't like to dress up - she loved the chance to do her hair and makeup, to dress up and feel pretty for once - it just wasn't a practicality her profession afforded. Her hair needed to be out of the way, and it made no sense to waste money on makeup that would be ruined by sweat and grime within the hour.

"If Dye makes it back, there'll be a party tonight," George stated, watching her reflection as she looped her tie into a knot. "You gonna go?"

"Uh," Frankie considered this for a moment, sniffing her coveralls from the previous day and grimacing at the smell, switching them out for a clean pair. "Nah, not tonight, I don't think. I've already got some outstanding stuff from the last few days that needs sorting, it's gonna be a busy one."

"Alright, I'll see if Sandra and Helen are going."

"I'm glad you're going," Frankie smiled.

George's gaze turned to her, and she considered this for a moment before shrugging. "Can't sit here forever."

It was a fact that didn't need dwelling on, and Frankie wouldn't patronise her with praise. This was just the way their lives worked now. One by one, the women in their hut finished getting ready and left for their various jobs until Frankie was the only one left, locking up the front door as she exited. The burn that had scorched her palm had long since healed, leaving a mottled pink scar across her hand, but she could clutch the handlebars of her bike without pain now, so she had returned to her morning ritual of cycling as fast as she physically could to the airstrip, revelling in the feeling of the warm morning air blowing through her hair.

Dye's plane was swooping in as she arrived, and Frankie couldn't help but smile at the chorus of whoops and cheers that pierced the air, flight and ground crews alike lining the runway to await his valiant return. Twenty-five missions. She could barely fathom it. For as long as she could remember, planes like this had been her life, but she'd never flown in one - Dye had done it twenty-five times. The number boggled her, a reality so close to and yet so distinctly separate from her own.

"Frankie!" Lemmons called over from where he was sitting with a few of the local boys. The village kids had taken a shine to the young mechanic, and she found she rather enjoyed their presence, childish wit relieving the strain of their long working hours. She crossed the grass towards them as he spoke up again. "Gonna replace the panelling on the bombers from last week, you in?"

She shook her head, batting a hand dismissively. "Nah, you go enjoy the celebrations with the others, I'll handle it."

He frowned, a crease appearing between his brows. "You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure, I hardly even know Dye, I'm not missing out. Take the night off, you deserve it."

A smile began to spread across his expression. "Well thanks, Frankie."

"No worries. Hey - did we get that delivery of rivets that was meant to come in?" Lemmons shook his head, and she shrugged. "Don't worry about it, I'll take a list to the boss of everything we need."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was growing dark, a work light on the tarmac illuminating one of the B-17 engines as she worked away at it, a pile of scattered tools littering the ground from where she had tried and failed to toss them back into her toolbox without paying proper attention. She could hear the muffled music far off in the distance, the lights from the party casting a golden reflection against the clouds like a beacon in the night. Tightening one of the bolts, Frankie prayed to herself that George was having fun.

The sound of footsteps approaching from behind alerted her to sudden company, but she was too engrossed in her work to turn. Besides, she could already guess who it was.

"Heya, Frankie," Bucky's voice came, and she suppressed a smirk at the accuracy of her prediction.

"Evenin'."

"We missed you at the party," He stated.

"Busy," She replied, letting out a grunt as she pinched the skin of her thumb with her wrench, flapping her hand for a moment to relieve the pain.

"Just came to see ya 'cause I don't think you've met Rosie yet."

Frankie let out a sigh, sliding her wrench into her pocket, speaking as she began to turn. "Bucky, if you boys have got yourselves another fucking dog, I swear-"

There was another man there, standing next to Egan, blue eyes watching her as she stumbled over her words, trailing to an awkward stop. She had a smear of oil across her forehead from where she had absent-mindedly wiped the sweat from her brow with a filthy hand, and Bucky pursed his lips tightly as he tried not to laugh.

"Not a dog," Rosie stated, the corner of his mouth turning up in a smile.

"No," She breathed, snapping herself out of her awkwardness. "No, uh, sorry - Frankie, I'm Frankie," Holding out her hand to shake, she noticed its filthiness and grimaced, swiftly retracting it.

"Frankie's one of our mechanics," Egan explained. "She'd be happiest if we fired the rest of the ground crew and let her do the whole thing herself."

"But then who'd clean the dog shit and vomit out for me, eh?" Frankie shrugged, a pink spatter colouring her cheeks. Bucky almost frowned, taken aback by her uncharacteristically awkward demeanour.

"Look, I promised Buck I'd only be gone five minutes, so," He looked down at his watch, shrugging.

"No, no, that's fine, you have a good night," Frankie smiled, wiping her dirty palms on the sides of her trousers.

Bucky turned to leave, pausing for a moment. "Rosenthal?"

"Oh, no, I was gonna head off anyway, thanks Major," Rosie nodded, and they lingered in silence for a moment after Egan left, his silhouette disappearing into the darkness down the runway.

"Sorry I thought you were a dog," She chuckled slightly, breaking the quiet as she rubbed her thumb where she'd pinched the skin, a red mark forming.

"Well," Rosie shrugged, standing with his hands in his pockets. "Been called worse."

Frankie smiled, a flash of teeth in her grin as she glanced back at the engine for a moment, the great thing looming over her in its frame. "And... sorry Bucky dragged you all the way out here, I'm sure the party is much more interesting, and-"

"Hey, you don't have to apologise," He shook his head. With the work light shining on them, it seemed to cast a halo around her head, brown hair running golden along its edges. Even covered in filth, she must've been one of the prettiest girls he'd seen in... well, he couldn't quite recall. "How long have you been out here?"

"Uh, what time is it - eight?"

Rosie let out a laugh. "Gone midnight."

"Jesus Christ," She flashed him a tired grin. "Shit, I missed dinner."

"Well," He shrugged. "I am a Captain. Sure we can find something."

"You're on," Frankie agreed, the empty feeling in her stomach suddenly amplified once she realised how long it had been since she'd eaten. "Although, I'd better clean up first," She noted, wiping her hands on one of the engine rags.

"By the way, you've got a little-" Rosie gestured to his own forehead.

"Oh, shit," Frankie muttered, reaching up with the rag and just managing to miss the oil stain. He let out a chuckle, stepping forward.

"Here, lemme just-" She offered up the rag, and he dabbed at the stain, which less went away than it did smudge even more. He furrowed his brow as he tried to get rid of it, and she couldn't help but let out a laugh at the sheer concentration in his expression, their faces far closer than she would ever usually allow with a man she'd only just met. But there was something endearing in him, something safe. "I think... I think I got it."

"Thanks," Frankie chuckled, taking back the rag and stepping back towards the Nissen hut. "I'm just gonna wheel this engine inside and wash the crap off my hands, then we can go."

"I await your return, milady," Rosie nodded, smile turning to a cringe as she turned away from him. What was that? Don't say that!

She smiled to herself as she entered the hut, her pleased expression turning to a grimace as she got a waft of herself, the twelve-hour shift out in the sun making itself known. Oh shit.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The mess hall was completely deserted, the only light coming from the kitchens as Frankie waited patiently for Rosie to return. He had volunteered to go and scrounge for food, confident that his rank would protect them if they were discovered, and she grinned as he returned, proudly carrying a large tin of peaches and a couple of bars of ration chocolate.

"Oh, perfect. Midnight feast," She beamed, taking a seat on one of the long benches that lined the tables as he sat down opposite, producing a tin opener from his pocket.

"Food fit for kings, I'd say," Rosie agreed, wrestling with the peaches for a moment until he was able to break the lid. Producing two forks, Frankie held one out to him, using her own to skewer a slice of the orange fruit.

"I'd just like to preface this by saying that I don't usually smell like this... actually, I do," She admitted, picking at some dirt stuck beneath her nail.

"Hey, I'm not judging - you wouldn't either once you'd smelled the inside of our flight suits," He shrugged, and she let out a huff of laughter, chewing on her peach slices, a droplet of sweet juice running down her lip. "So... how long've you been a mechanic?"

"Dad's been running an auto repair shop at home since before I was born, I grew up on it," Frankie explained, skewering another slice with one hand as she unwrapped her chocolate bar with the other. "He wanted to go over to France, help fix army jeeps, but he lost his foot in the Great War so they won't take him - I was born when he was away, see, he'd been over there for six months or so when a shell went off and he lost it. So the cars were all we had. I switched to planes when I was about fifteen - bit of an impractical hobby, but I've read every single book on it they had in Stratford library," She chuckled.

"Stratford... Shakespeare, right?"

Her brow raised. "Yeah. Right. Y'know I think the only good thing about this war is that the tourist buses have stopped coming around," She joked, and Rosie laughed, nodding along as he ate. Why was she telling him all this? In the last hour, he'd found out more about her than Bucky or Lemmons had in months. But she found she didn't feel embarrassed telling him any of it, the words just flowed naturally.

They sat there in the dim mess hall eating peaches until they started to feel sick, the hands of Rosie's watch ticking steadily past 1am by the time they left, making sure to hide all evidence of their midnight raid. It had begun to rain by the time they stepped out into the night air, and before Frankie could utter a single word of complaint he had shrugged off his uniform jacket and given it to her to hold over her head, her own makeshift shelter whilst his own curls fell flat, the water leaving dark streaks down his shirt.

"Are you sure about this?" She asked for what must have been the third time as they reached the end of her row of Nissen huts, Rosie's hair soaked and plastered to his forehead, his skin almost visible through the drenched state of his clothes.

"I said stop asking," He assured her, nodding confidently despite the visible trembling in his shoulders.

"I'm just worried I'm gonna ruin your jacket."

"Well, it'd die for a worthy cause."

Frankie grinned, slowing to a stop as she reached the front door of her hut. The lights were all off inside, not a single sign of life as her bunkmates enjoyed their well-earned sleep. When she spoke again, it was in whispers, careful not to wake them even despite the hammering of rain against the metal roof.

"Thank you for dinner, it was... unexpected."

"Very," Rosie nodded in agreement, mirroring her smile. She handed over his jacket, and he folded it, tucking it beneath his arm, already well past its usefulness.

"Tomorrow's gonna be a rough morning."

"Take the day off, have a lie-in, you deserve it."

She raised a brow, and he laughed. "You know I won't."

"I suspected as much," He agreed, nodding firmly. "G'night, Frankie."

"Goodnight."

Frankie slipped carefully inside, cautious not to make a sound as she crept over to her bed, stripping off her wet coveralls as she reached quickly for her nice, warm pyjamas.

When George's whispered voice broke the silence, she swore she almost had a heart attack. "You've been... working?"

"Something like that," Frankie shrugged, taking the fact she was awake as a sign of consent to turn her lamp on, giving her the light she needed to untie her boots. "Have you met the new Captain?"

"Who, Rosenthal? No. Why?"

She didn't answer for a long moment, buttoning up her pyjama shirt before flicking off the lamp, plunging the room into total darkness as she climbed beneath the blankets, letting out a satisfied sigh at the warmth.

"He's nice."

George let the silence simmer for a moment, her tone laced with suspicion. "... Right."

#masters of the air #mota #masters of the air fic #masters of the air oc #rosie rosenthal #rosie rosenthal x oc #john egan #ken lemmons #curtis biddick #oc: frankie #oc: george #fic | i'm your man #robert rosenthal

[gingerjolover]

Imagine taking Julien as your plus 1 to a winter wedding, imagine the (loosely) matching festive outfits and the warm lights against her lighter her up, super festive super sweet holiday jb

this could send me into orbit actually plus one!jb is such a vibe

are we talking plus one like yall have not been dating for very long but you got a plus one so you're brining your gf

or like its your friend whos getting married or maybe a family member and you and jb have been together a while so she is also invited

i think either way, im getting strong vibes like from the wedding the boys performed at

i feel like since its a winter wedding its giving dark clothes, maybe red or dark green, obvi not white but something festive but not over the top

and julien is like, "I'll get a matching tie❤️" so whatever color your dress or outfit is, julien is matching you

and julien doesn't like Christmas but loves the winter (idk if this is canon but it is to me) and so a winter wedding is so her vibe

if its outdoors there's lights all around and trees wrapped up and the dancefloor is under a huge tent and maybe there's fake snow and greenery everywhere

and julien is living for it and you take so many pics and vids or julien just looking at her surroundings because the reflections in her big brown baby cow eyes.... i could pass out actually

look i mentioned this in the one smut fit but i don't think julien is like totally sober i think she has drinks on occasions, and we'll say for consistency sake that shes very excited at the festive drinks and foods, the two of you perusing around the venue

finds every mistletoe and kisses you under it

also takes a ton of photos of you in your outfit

the pic y'all get with the couple is sooo cute, you and JB on either side of the couple, both smiling and color coordinated

probably plays a lot of Christmas or holiday music at the reception (in combination with bangers)

but i just imagine you and julien slow dancing to a slow Christmas song or like julien bopping around with your friends or family

julien gives me "children love me and want me to play with them all the time" vibes at family gatherings

so your cousins or maybe like the kids at the wedding LOVE julien and they are all dancing together

if it's a kid-free wedding then you know julien is just having the time of her life dancing to fucking pitbull or something with your friends

julien is so genuinely sweet and fun and kind and the best to be around at an event like a wedding (and all the time) so you are just so happy you brought her

and its one of the only times julien is all for the holiday-ness of the season, so she enjoys herself

i might add more to this later??

#anon cutie #julien baker x reader #boygenius x reader #jb at a winter wedding chefs kiss anon #gingybread's holidaze

[ariisheresstuff]

My Eyes Are Up Here!

Pairings: Bakugou x fem!reader (aged up)

Summary: You and Bakugou were at a Pro Hero Gala, and seeing you in a certain dress just does something to Bakugou

Genre: SMUT! MINORS DNI‼️

Warnings: You and Bakugou fucking in a coat room, kissing, cursing, dirty talk, just everything you could think of involving smut

MasterList

A/N: My requests are open! <3

“Babe! Are ya ready?” Bakugou called out to you from the living room as he placed on his coat, you two were just about to leave for a Pro Hero Met Gala that happens every so often. Katsuki really hates them, but you encourage him that these events can get his name out there. “Yeah! One sec!” You quickly touched up your dark lipstick before fluffing out your hair one last time, you quickly grabbed your purse before walking down the stairs. Katsuki heard your heels clicking down the stairs making him turn around, “Fucking finally, taking all the fucking- holy fucking shit.” He stopped his sentence midway admiring you from an angle, you had on a very tight long maroon dress. There was a slit by your left leg, your hair was in a big puffy bun with loose strands of hair coming down on the sides. “Like my dress I’m assuming?” You teased at him as you walked down the previous stairs, “Hell fucking yeah.” You giggled as you walked over to him placing your hands on his chest, you looked up at his crimson dark eyes. You played with his tie as you sighed, “Could say the same about you Kats.” Bakugou smirked at you as his hands roamed every piece of your body making you sigh softly, “You always look so fucking good for me baby, fucking hell.” He moved your head to the side to attack your neck, you moaned softly as you wrapped your arms around his neck. You whimpered when you felt him bit down on your collarbone, “K-katsuki, stop we have to get going.” You pushed him away as he whined, “I mean we could always just not go.” He said with a grin as he went to attack your neck again but only for you to push him back lightly, “Kats, i did my hair and makeup. Were going.” Katsuki sucked his teeth before grabbing your hand as you two walked out the house, “Just know I’m finishing the job later princess.” He said in your ear before lightly biting your lobe.

Once you two arrived at the event, there were paparazzi everywhere. “DynaMight!” “Y/N! DynaMight! Over Here!” “Love the dress Y/N!” “DynaMight! Who are you wearing!” A bunch of them swarming with questions, Katsuki gave them all scowls. You two were on the red carpet as multiple paparazzi took pictures of you two, some solo but mostly you two together. Katsuki pulled you into his chest as you placed a hand on his torso leaning into him. Flashing lights blinding you from every angle, until you two decided you were done with pictures for the night. You two quickly met up with the rest of your old classmates. Kirishima quickly noticing you guys and making his way to you. “Bakugou! Y/N! Nice to finally see you joining us.” Kirishima dabbed up Bakugou as he gave you a hug with a back rub, “Hey kiri! How’s everything?” You asked him with a smile, he returned a sharp smile back at you, “Been great! Never better, how about you two?” “Same old, same old.” You joked around “Kacchan still being the grumpy old Kacchan.” Kaminari’s voice came from behind Kirishima, you smiled at him. Katsuki gave him the finger, “Shut your ass up Sparky.” You gave Katsuki a frown, “So disrespectful.” You said with a bit of tease making everyone else laugh, “Keep testing me woman.” You gave him a smirk making him grin at you, “Anyways, where’s the rest of the gang?” You asked Kiri who then pointed to a table where everyone else sat, you nodded before grabbing Bakugou’s hand and dragging him to greet your other friend’s.

After a few hours of drinks and talking, the ceremony was gonna start in about 25 minutes. Usually about awards or about the high top chart of hero’s. You were talking Momo about something when you felt a hand grab your wrist pulling you out of your seat. You yelped as you turned to see who it was, only to find your boyfriend who had that shit eating grin. “Momo! I’m so sorry I’ll be with you in a minute.” “No worries Y/N.” Momo waved you off with a smile, your turned to face Katsuki. “Kats! What the hell are taking me?” “You’ll fucking see baby.” You sighed knowing what was gonna happen, he quickly pulled you into a room filled with everyone’s coats. It was a really nice room that was meant for coats, before you could even process what was happening Bakugou pushed you into the wall. You gasped lightly at the sudden movement. “Katsuki! You were really are gonna do this right here?” “What the fuck do you think?” You rolled your eyes as he started to pulled the top of dress down to reveal your lacy bra, “W-what if we get caught or something?” You moaned lightly as he started to kiss your cheek and kissing down your neck, “We’re fine Y/N, just let me fucking touch you.” You moaned a bit loudly this time as he started to cup your tits through your bra, he then un-clipped it behind you with one hand. You moaned at the contact, you shivered at the cold air hitting your sensitive nipples. They immediately hardened in his touch making him darkly chuckle, “Fuck baby, these fucking tits.” He bent down to latch his mouth onto a nipple, circling his warm tongue over the bud. You placed your head back on the wall, whimpering and moaning. “I-oh fuck, katsuki.” You placed a hand in his hair scratching his scalp making him groan, you immediately cupped his face to bring him back to face you. You crashed your lips on his making him moan lightly, he cupped your neck as he shoved his tongue into your mouth making you moan lightly. You both pulled away for air but not for your lips to stop touching, your cheeks felt like a wave of heat.

“God, i can’t get enough of you Y/N.” His hands wandered down to your lower region as he picked up the bottom of your dress, he groaned seeing your thong. “Shit, I bet your already dripping for me aren’t you princess?” He said in your ear making you shiver at his hot breath, “Katsu, please!” “Please what baby?” You felt his finger tips slowly rubbing circles over your clothed clit, “T-touch me.” “Touch you where? Use your big girl words.” You groaned at him teasing, getting frustrated. “My pussy! P-please Baby, rub my pussy till I’m numb!” He smirked before rubbing off your thong making you gasp “Good girl.” He dug his fingers into your sex making you jump at the contact of his thick fingers entering you. “Oh! Fuck! Katsu!” “I know baby, feels so good hm?” You nodded into his neck as you wrapped your arms and legs around him gripping onto him for dear life. “Jesus, could you feel you squeezing my fingers baby. You close?” You whimpered out an answer making him coo at you, “Aw, my poor baby wants to come on daddy’s fingers hm?” “Yes! Yes! Please daddy!” “Go ahead baby, make a fucking mess on my fingers you slut.” You shivered as you felt a gush of white hitting you, you could see stars as your orgasm hit you like a bus. Katsuki held you as you shivered and jolted at the intense pleasure, “Fuck baby, making a mess everywhere.” He took his soaked fingers out of your pussy, a glistening clear substance dribbling down his fingers. He slowly placed his fingers in his mouth sucking off your sweet nectar. You moaned as you watched him, “Taste so sweet like always baby.” He cupped your face as he placed his lips on you, you could taste yourself on his tongue. “Taste yourself princess?” You nodded with a whine, “W-want your cock.” “Tch, so demanding.” He unbuttoned his jeans before sliding them down, he placed his hands in his boxers freeing his member. His cock jumped out slapping his stomach, you eyes widened. He chuckled “I know baby, so big.” You whined as you wrapped your arms around his neck to bring him closer to you, he lined himself up to your core. He looked into your eyes softly. “Ready?” You nodded as he immediately shoved his cock into you, you had to burry your head into his shoulder to moan. “O-oh fuck, Jesus- baby.” Katsuki moaned as he thrusted into your pussy, the room filled with skin slapping and echoing in the room. “Katsuki! So big!” “I know princess, m-my big cock destroying your insides.” “I love you K-Kats!” Tears ran down your face in pleasure as you felt that similar burning in the pit of stomach like earlier, he thrusted more harder into you. “Fuck! I’m cumming baby, i love you more.” His thrust became sloppy as your body twitched, “Oh f-fuck baby!” You squealed as your toes scrunched up in pleasure, you moaned and whimpered. Your body jolted more than last time as you came on his twitching cock, you felt his cock twitch more. “Oh fuck! I’m cumming! S-shit!” His hips stuttered as a heavy dump of warm cum filled you up full, he rested his head by your neck as he you both panted like you both ran a 5 mile run. He jolted as he finished, you closed your eyes. You both jumped when you heard an announcement discussing that that ceremony is starting in ten minutes, “Just in the nic of time.” Katsuki gave you a smirk as you ran your fingers through his sweaty hair, you laughed softly. “Can’t have them waiting big guy.” You both quickly started to freshen up, you looked into the mirror by the door to fix your makeup and hair. Katsuki fixed his tie and jacket, you turned to face him. “What?” You chuckle as you rubbed away the lipstick stain on his jaw, “Can’t be suspicious.” He chuckle lightly before grabbing your hand and quickly making it back to your seats.

You two quickly met up with your classmates, “I’m guessing you two had a fun time.” Sero teased at you two making the rest of the boys laugh and cackle, “The fuck you talking about Tape Boy?” “Might wanna check your necks lovebirds.” Denki teased at you making your eyes go wide, Katsuki looked away with a growl. You two flushed pink, “W-we um I- “Just shut your mouths.” Katsuki demanded them as they continued to snicker at you two. You looked up at Katsuki with a shy smile, he huffed before grabbing your hand to go sit back down. “Let’s just get this shit over with already.”

Tag-List: @ebiharachan @otomefan @amis-love-bugs @slasherstories123 @writeslikedream

#mha #bnha #myheroacademia #bokunoheroacademia #mha fanfiction #Mha x reader #Mha smut #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou #Kacchan #katsuki bakugou fanfic #bakugou fanfiction #Bakugou x reader #bakugou x fem!reader #bakugou x y/n #Bakugou smut #Mha Bakugou #bnha Bakugou #katsuki Bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou headcanons #katsuki bakugou x gn reader #katsuki bakugou x female reader #katsuki Bakugou smut

[callmemaeverick]

Golden Hour - The Spy Next Door Part II [Peter Sutherland x fem!Reader]

A/N: OMG, I didn’t realize how much you guys would like this... Hahaha. I’m so grateful to those who commented and reblogged with really funny tags... I read them all, I swear so, as promised. Part 2 of The Spy Next Door. WC: 800

Part 1

It was about 5 am when you clicked off and shut down your work console that day. Sighing, you wiped your face to rid of any drowsiness. Your shift for the month had been brutal, starting from 8pm spanning all through the night. The grave yard shift, they called it.

Working as a customer service agent was not easy and it just so happened that it was one of those days where nothing went right. The worst thing was that you understood where your customers were coming from. The issues you handled on a daily basis ranged from system errors to human errors and sometimes they are just not fixable the way the customers wants it fixed. And that's when the verbal assault comes.

All through your tenure, you have been yelled at in almost every language spoke in the United States. And that's a lot. Unfortunately, you were not someone who could just brush it off immediately afterwards, though you tried to be. When this kind of shifts happened, you would make yourself a cup of coffee and climbed out onto your fire escape, sitting against the wall with your knees to your chest while you wait for the sun to rise.

Only that day, you found someone had beat you to it.

"Hey," You greeted your new favorite neighbor.

It had been about a month since he moved in and he had been nothing but the sweetest guy you've ever met. He is considerate and polite, especially around ladies and children. Once, you were returning from a jog, you and caught him leading Mrs. Fitzgerald out of the building, her arm in his as they talked softly.

It was such a small thing to do, but it warmed your heart to see such a well-raised man. The world was always lacking them.

Peter looked up at you from his perch on the stairs. He was wearing his suit still, but his tie was loosed. At that time, it was hard for you to wrap your head around the fact that he is an FBI agent working in the White House.

"Hey," He eyed you for a moment and then added. "You okay?"

You knew instantly that he overheard you working, heard your stuttering speech as you tried to calm your last customer down. Taking a seat next to him, you took a deep breath and exhaled it loudly. "Gimme a few hours."

The both of you didn't speak much and you were glad Peter didn't feel like he had to. In silence, you watched as the the sky changed from blue to purple to orange and yellow together, accompanied by the smell of the coffee from your cup. You closed your eyes for a beat and let the everything that happened during the shift go, never to bother you again.

Slowly, you felt the tension in your shoulders drift away, like sand shifting in the wind. Your thoughts went blank as the stresses of the shift disappeared into the back of your mind, allowing you a clean slate for your next one. Truth be told, aside from the high-intensity stress during your shifts, you enjoyed your job as a customer service agent. You liked helping people and it was enough that you kept going despite days like this.

The call of your name pulled you slowly back, but a part of your subconscious resisted.

"Hey, come on. Let's get you inside first." Peter's voice was very low but very close to your ear. Blinking, you realized you had begun to drift off, tilting to the side. To his side, to be specific.

When exactly you had became comfortable enough to fall asleep in his presence, you didn't know. But you had, and you hadn't regretted it.

Peter's soft laugh washed over you as he gently pushed you upright. "Hey, I can't carry you through the window. Unless you want me to drag you in."

"Just a few more minutes. I swear."

There was that laugh again, but Peter stayed put. His shoulder was comfortable, just perfect for you to rest your head on. And you did.

You didn't know exactly how long you stayed on those steps. All you know was that when you opened your eyes, the sun was bright and Peter was still beside you.

TBC

Tagging: @strnqer @thefictionalgemini​ 

#peter sutherland #peter sutherland x reader #gabriel basso #the night agent #netflix the night agent #the night agent netflix #the spy next door series #mav's posts