Oh My

Thoughts on Miguel having a breeding kink??

I feel like because of him being part spider he would have moments where he needs to breed you because it’s just part of his DNA, begging and asking you if he can cum inside you.

Needy Miguel who gets taken care off because he can’t control himself <333

I actually wrote a full fic based on something similar coming out later this week! but I just had a few HCs I felt I needed to share 👀👀

Miguel O'Hara Breeding kink HCs

(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist

pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader

summary: Breeding kink HCs + more :)

warnings: slight fdom, masturbation, breeding kink, marking, slight size kink. 18+ Minors DNI

wc: 1.6k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Before you started dating, he hid it pretty well. 

It's not a rut per se (violent flashback to my ABO phase) but his changed DNA makes him susceptible to being more animalistic. 

Before meeting you, it was less of an issue. His instincts would be more aggressive, manifesting mostly as Spiderman. 

A little more violent, proactive, and stony-faced on the streets. Sure, his libido was higher, but he could satisfy himself fine - opting for quickies in the shower. 

When he first meets you, and you grow closer he finds them getting worse. 

Hot flushes, possessiveness, and god, he's head over heels for your scent. 

The first time you sleep together, he's more forward than he usually would be. After a date, and you look stunning, he just can't think straight. 

After a couple of beers, Miguel floats down the street next to you. You've got your hand in his, click-clacking down the sidewalk in boots and those jeans that make your ass look good. He would know, of course, he's spent the past 5 minutes staring at them. 

He's ashamed to admit it, but he can't concentrate, the story you've been telling goes straight over his head. All he can see is your bubblegum pink gloss, and that perfume you've been wearing goes straight to his cock. You're beautiful , the sweetest thing he's ever had the pleasure of taking out, and all he can think of is what you'd feel like underneath him. 

He walks you up to your apartment door. When you stop outside, he can't help but put a hand on your waist and cage you against the door. 

"You look beautiful, baby." He breathes. 

Your whole face lights up, and it's all he can do to not kiss you right there. You look up. Miguel is tall, broad and handsome. His eyes are low, dangerously raking over your face and body. 

"Do you….. do you want to come in?"

~~~

You don't notice at first. You and Miguel have great sex: he's attentive, handsome, and he's got a pretty healthy appetite. 

He's into a lot of things you didn't think you'd like: marking you up with hickies and admiring you after. 

It's a possessiveness you're not used to, and it turns him on to no end. 

For that reason, he's very verbal; talking you through it just to see you blush. 

" Fuck, Miguel." 

He traces the fresh hickies he's made on your chest as you're splayed out below him. Obscenely, he slaps his dick against your clit, wet noises resounding through your bedroom. 

"Aren't you pretty, mi vida ?" He likes the way you writhe against him, hips flush against his and bucking up for some relief. He's been pawing at your pussy and whispering filthy shit in your ear; using his senses to chase every twitch and pulse of your body. 

"S'what happens when you walk around the house in those tiny shorts, baby. Hmm? Ass out, bending over like I can't see how wet you are. Like I can't taste it in the air." You whimper and he bucks into your hole, catching on your clit before stretching you out. He takes it slow, caging you in with his arms. 

He buries himself in you from the hilt. And he humps your clit, just the way you like it. He takes your hands and holds them above your head, picking up the pace. You writhe and strain, but he holds you still dragging his hips in and out of your sopping hole. Warm, wet, he moulds you to the shape of his cock: rhythmic pounding filling your ears. Your head lolls and he licks up your moans; angling his hips just right and deepening the kiss. 

" ¿Más duro? Harder, baby?" You whine in response, watching where you bodies meet intently. 

" Need your cum, Miguel ."

He cries out, his pace sloppier and less controlled. You wrap your legs around his waist, pushing him closer, impossibly deep. 

“Can I cum? Please, mami, can I cum?” 

Your answer comes in the form of a harsh tug at the nape of his neck, wrenching his lips onto yours. He stills, spurting hot, sticky cum; painting your walls white. 

~~~

Ohhh and he definitely has a size kink.

He likes to knead your body with his big hands, rubbing your thighs completely absentmindedly, after finishing. 

Aftercare is important to him, often plugging you up with his cock, or toys, or pushing his cum back in with thick fingers after spilling inside you. 

He likes multiple rounds, making sure his cum takes: he wants to see you plump and round and pretty with his baby. 

Irony is, he's not even sure if he wants kids, but the idea lights him on fire - fuels countless nights with you and nights when he strokes his cock to the thought of you. 

He becomes obsessive and a slight perv; taking your panties from the laundry to wrap around his nose, to rub against his cock when he touches himself. 

When Miguel gets like this, he is shameless, overstimulating himself to chase the perfect high.

You find him, back turned in a tight little tank top, on the bed. You heard him first, of course. The rhythmic slap and groaning that creeps into the apartment. You’ve had a long day at work, body sore and aching. The only thing you want to do is kick your heels off, and collapse into bed. And you would’ve - if not for the Miguel-shaped lump perched on the edge of your mattresses. 

You lean on the doorframe, eyebrow raised. “...didn’t know it was so soon, Miguel.”

He doesn’t even glance your way, only moaning and clutching at the sheets. You walk around for a better vantage point, to look him in the eye when he finally spills into his palm. And there, you see the deep red of a pair of panties you had put in the laundry a while back.

“Can’t help it, mi sol. You know I can’t help it.” 

"Fucking perv ." You hiss. He stops, hips jerking up. You sink down to your knees, dainty hands wrapping around his cock. All he can do is watch as you rub his length, squeezing his tip so precum pours out like a leaky shampoo bottle. 

"What were you thinking of that's got you so desperate to hump your hand?" You press a sticky kiss to his balls. 

He doesn't answer at first, too lost in the back and forth of your fingers, other hand pressing the gusset of your panties against his nose. Cruelly, you stop, and he cries out as you squeeze his tip."Asked you a question, Miguel."

"Sorry, mami. C-Can't help it. Only thinking with my cock," He whines, until you start up again. Your face is right next to his length and it is all he can do not to cum all over it. "Thinking about you. Fucking you hard. Deep. Filling you up with my cum again and again-" 

"You want to fuck a baby into me?" 

He nods desperately. "Wouldn't you look so pretty? Plump and round and waddling around with all my cum? Mine, always mine," You speed up, snaking a hand downwards to put some pressure at your clit. Ever perceptive, he notices and grabs, pulling you upwards. Like paper, he rips through the stockings, biting and soothing the bites with his tongue all over your thighs. 

"You want my tongue, first? My fingers?" 

You shake your head. "N-No, Miguel. Long day jus'.... need your cum. Fill me up. Breed me."

He doesn't need to be told twice. You help him get rid of his clothes, and strip down to your bra and panties. He looks hungry, eyes raking over the peaks and troughs if your body. You know what he's like when he gets like this; little self control, reckless abandon. He'd actually fuck a baby in you if it weren't for your birth control. So when you sink down on his length, he isn't tender or sweet, like he usually his. He's an animal , fucking up into your hole and kneading the globes of your ass apart for better purchase. 

"Give it to me, mi vida ." You clench around his thick dick, the burn and stretch of him just right. "Oh fuck, just like that. M'gonna cum, baby, straight into this cunt. Gonna fuck a baby into you, okay? Dámelo, dámelo…"

He stutters, hips flush against your clit and giving you the most delicious throb at your pussy. With a cry, he cums into, deep, as promised. He wraps his fingers in yours, holding you through your own impending orgasm. You fall through the sky, together, coming down from your high. He kisses your forehead with a lazy smile. 

"Not enough, mi vida. Gotta make sure it takes." 

_

_

_

THANK YOU🥰

Te Lo Ruego

miguel o’hara x fem!reader

nsfw masterlist | main masterlist

word count: 0.8k

summary: miguel is desperate for just a taste

warnings: SMUT (18+), minors DNI, miguel being a munch and pussy drunk, that’s it, it’s just him being desperate to eat you out <3 also, spanish (translation at the end)

A/N: I read two words and was inspired to write this…took me about an hour and now this is all i’m thinking about, please enjoy // as always, feedback is greatly appreciated, reblog and lmk what you think! <333

Keep reading

IM LITERALLY GOING SO FERAL OVER THEM WTF I NEED THIS ASAP

taking nsfw polaroids with the dagger squad

Warnings: afab!reader implied, mentions of female body parts, mentions of sex/sexy times. the race & body type of the reader is not implied & is meant to be open to interpretation! as a plus-sized woman myself, I tried to imagine myself in the reader's position, so I did my best to keep the verbiage in regards to that as neutral as possible. there's swearing, possessiveness, spit kink, borderline almost choking?, real nasty stuff. any of the links that are included to show pictures WILL be genuinely nsfw, so please proceed with caution. let me know if I missed anything!

word count: 1828 words of deliciously sinful content

A/N: no minors or ageless blogs allowed! I will not hesitate to block you. this is so incredibly self-indulgent & I will make absolutely no apologies about it lmao. please be kind as this is one of the first things I've written since like 2016 and one of the first spicy/smut-adjacent things I've ever written. has this idea been done before? it's entirely possible. but that's the great thing about this chaotic internet space, we all have our own interpretations of things. also at this time I will not be taking requests as this is just something random that I decided to share. maybe in the future I might, but for now, only when inspiration strikes. you are more than welcome to stop by my inbox to share whatever you want though! I will be writing accompanying blurbs to some (maybe all??) of these hcs for the "favorite shots" and those will come when they come 😏 (pun not completely intended, but welcomed nonetheless) here is the accompanying inspo moodboard for these!

so with that being said, enjoy you filthy animals & let me know what you think!

be kind & be well 💗

Javy/Coyote

let's be real, Javy is the most fun and playful when it comes to this

when you first suggest it to him he's like "oh shit baby, for real?"

will 100% drive around town to stock up on polaroid film because he is so stoked y'all are doing this

and you can't help but giggle at how he's almost literally vibrating in line at Best Buy

"babydoll it's on my sexy bucket list!" "Javy shhh there's children here" "if I'm quiet, can we do this as soon as we get home pleaaaaase"

it's hard to say no to him, so you playfully roll your eyes and say yes

he has a specific pose in mind for you, so once you're done with the last stop for film, he swings by the makeup store to grab something & has you stay in the car

he's spent enough time shopping with you & his cousins & mom to know exactly where to go, so he's in and out within 10 minutes

it's a tube of dark cherry red lipstick and you just look at him and it clicks

his ultimate favorite polaroid of you isn't even one of you bare ass naked (although those are pretty good contenders)

nah it's the one of you suggestively licking a lollipop, that dark cherry red lipstick on, pushing your lace-covered tits up in your face, leaning towards the camera and making eye contact

he can never truly look at the jar of lollipops Penny keeps next to the register at The Hard Deck, the same way ever again without getting hard

jokes on Javy, he essentially Pavlov'ed himself

definitely into pin-up girl poses as well, but a lot less clothing

the man loves a good prop (they are teammates, not the enemy. take that as you will 😏)

Jake/Hangman

he gets so fucking smug when you bring it up one night while you're laying in bed

"Oh you're going to miss this cock so much, you want a picture to remind you of how full and wrecked it makes you feel, don't ya sweetheart" "Shut up Jake, you know you'll miss this pussy just as much when I'm not around. So wet and oh god, oh so needy for you" fake moaning to really sell the silliness of it all

he has so many of you in different poses, but his absolute favorite? definitely the one of you sitting in his big leather office chair, legs spread and hanging over the sides, heels on (but out of frame), that big ole engagement ring on your finger that he gave you a few short weeks ago, that same hand is sliding towards your center, gently crazing your clit and your other hand squeezing your breast

this man is possessive, so seeing you, his fiancée touching his pussy? he's done for. that picture has gotten some serious mileage on nights apart & he always calls you when he can and you just know what's about to happen phone sex duh

I think the entire fandom has made it well known that Jake is a Navy man, born and bred, so you know he's got to have a military-inspired shot

something a little bit like this (with you saluting & wearing his dog tags) that he begs you to keep at his desk, but you don't want to run the risk of his nieces or nephews seeing your bare tits when they come to visit

so you compromise and let him keep it at his bedside table

Mickey/Fanboy

He's so much like Javy in the sense that he is absolutely buzzing with excitement over this

You both have shared a fair amount of nudes with each other (carefully of course) and so now having a physical copy? Mickey almost cums in his pants at the thought

Now he is not a particularly handsy guy outside of the bedroom. He likes holding your hand and will slide a sly hand in your back pocket every once in a while

In the bedroom though?

His hands are alllllll over you

I'm talking like, caressing your thighs as he goes to tease a finger at your entrance, squeezing your boobs & tweaking your nipples to hear you whine and moan, gripping your hips so hard as he's thrusting into you

so that means his favorite polaroids are ones with his hands in them

He's hitting it from behind? his hands are grabbing a handful of of your ass, spreading your cheeks to get a good shot of his cock deep inside you

He'll have his hand around your throat, a thumb in your gasping mouth

very much likes it when you return the favor and have your hand around his throat, knowing he's at your mercy

or even one with your hand wrapped around his cock, pressing it up against his toned abs, precum leaking from the tip

Bradley/Rooster

As cliché as it is, you know this man is driven wild at the thought of you wearing any one of his Hawaiian/Tropical shirts

regardless of if the Navy stopped issuing dog tags or not, he finds a way to have a set just like his dad's with his own info on them

which leads us to the fun stuff

Rooster's favorite shot is one of you on your knees, wearing nothing but one of his shirts and the dog tag replicas

he has you keep your hands to yourself, mouth open and waiting, while he jerks off and cums on your face

breathless, he snaps the first picture, but then takes his thumb, swirling his cum over your lips and into your mouth

he thinks he might cum again right then & there

very much likes the idea of a beer poster adjacent polaroid as well

finds a way to get you, with your legs spread sitting on the open tailgate of the Bronco, yet again wearing nothing but that shirt and those damn dog tags

basically likes to see you wet & messy in his clothes

will tuck his polaroids away in a corner of his own little home shop, far away from prying eyes

he learned the hard way when Jake came over to help work on something and he found a polaroid of you, ass up, lacy thong in view, hidden in his tool box

that is something they never speak of, but when Jake's partner sends a bottle of wine & flowers, Rooster knows what happened and leaves it at that

Reuben/Payback

with Reuben, I feel like he's not super into it like the rest of the squad, but he's not, not into ya know?

why have a picture when he can have the real thing

but when he can't, he will 100000% indulge

maybe for your birthday or an anniversary, or whatever thing it is your celebrating, he will do whatever to make you happy

he likes more of the "classy"/artistic shots, but that doesn't mean that they're not sexy as hell

BIG fan of when you wear his dress shirts as you're getting ready for an event or a night out especially if you haven't put on your lingerie yet

you'll be a big tease and bend over and wiggle your ass at him

"take a picture it'll last longer" "don't mind if I do, hold that pose for me"

definitely plays with shadows a lot

really likes when your silhouette shows off your nipples

you'll be laying in bed, still naked from the night before, your hair is a mess

but Reuben thinks you're the most stunning being to set foot on this earth

so when he sees you stirring from a deep sleep, he grabs the polaroid camera from the bedside table, and pulls the sheets off your chest, nipples perking up at the cold as you let out a whimper (another favorite of his)

Natasha/Phoenix

she's truly something else

when you're one of the only women in a male-dominated field, you get real fucking tough & are immediately a bad ass no matter what

and I think that translates into almost all aspects of her life, but she doesn't let it change her too much as a person ya know?

in the bedroom though? oooof

now this may be controversial, but she was the first person out of the entire squad I thought of, when it came to mind, but bear with me here

she spits on your face and/or in your mouth

don't ask me why or how, she just does and my god you both get off on it

maybe it's a dominance thing or marking you as hers but it's hot

the first time she takes a polaroid after spitting in your mouth, she has you stick your tongue out, let your now mixed saliva drip off your tongue

you looked so dumb and fucked out and blissful and she LOVES it

she's a BIG fan of marking you

whether it's leaving lipstick marks all over your chest or hickeys instead

but spit on your face AND hickeys all over your chest? double-fucking whammy you're both going another couple rounds after those pictures finish developing

her stash of polaroids are tucked in her pocket because who the fuck would dare to go snooping in Nat's stuff??? (not Jake because he knows now to ask for a pen, instead of looking for it)

may have a few shots of you using toys on each other but that's a story for a different day

Bob

Oh darling Bob, Bobby, Robby, Bobert

now he's the wild card of the entire sqaud in my opinion & I feel like he could go either way

I could see him being very meek and nervous about taking nudes of you

like even though they're physical copies & there's no chance of them ending up on the internet, he doesn't want to take advantage of you, ya know? (We stan an absolutely respectful King)

But then...

I truly could see him being the raunchiest fucker out of 'em all

I'm talking like shots of his cock in your mouth, drool dribbling out the sides, your mascara running down your cheeks

There's some of him eating you out, glasses askew & fogging up, eyes blown wide and black, staring you down while he is doing his damn best to get you to cum so hard you forget everything but the feel of his mouth on your cunt

maybe one day he's on leave long enough to grow just the right amount of stubble

so after date night & he's just eaten you out within an inch of your life, he takes a polaroid of your dripping cunt, a mixture of your cum staining the sheets, your thighs red and raw from the baby beard he's growing

but because Bob is Bob, he takes such good care of you afterwards though and is constantly checking in, making sure you were okay with all the pictures he took

we are Team Bob Fucks here at mxgyver dot tumblr dot com thank you very much

tagging some tgm pals that might be interested!: @rae-gar-targaryen, @withahappyrefrain, @rhettabbotts, @theharddeck, @bioodforbiood, @ellariasand, @fidogo, @hangmanbrainrot, @fanboygarcia

a/n #2: woooow y'all that was... something. if you've made it this far, thank you for reading & thank you for indulging in this! I was very nervous to post this, but we're going into 2023 with the mindset of don't think, just do!

FERAL. INSANE. LOSING MY MIND. THIS WAS EVERYTHING ‼️

under my hands

pairing: adrian chase x reader (gn pronouns, afab sex descriptions (vaginal/breasts))

rating: e+

word count: 4,334

one-sentence synopsis: from the moment you let a little secret slip in the bar, you're driving adrian out of his mind.

author's note: i got a bunch of very feral requests that made me so unhinged i combined them into one and then went completely bonkers so ENJOY!!!!!!!

read on ao3!

“I do, too,” Chris argues at the top of his voice, slamming his glass down on the bar tabletop. “What, you don’t fucking believe me?”

“No,” John replies. “I genuinely, honestly don’t.” He seems almost delighted that Chris’ face is going red with anger, even as he’s getting agitated himself. “You seem to forget that I, like, watched you in the hospital. I studied you. For a while. It was my job to know you. I know you don’t have any.”

“That’s such bullshit,” Chris says. He shoves away from the table, pushing up to his feet with such force that every glass and pitcher on the table rattles, making everyone shout and reach out with steadying hands.

“What are you doing?” Emilia asks, suspicion heavy on every word she speaks.

“I’m showing you my fucking tattoo,” Chris says, and starts unbuckling his belt.

“Whoa!” John shouts, as Leota calls, “Hell no, Chris!” across the table.

“What?” Chris demands. “You don’t fucking believe me, then I’ll show you—”

“You can’t pull your goddamn pants down in here right now,” Emilia hisses at him, like he somehow needs to be told that.

“Wait, dude, hold up,” Adrian says. “I think I have a pic on my phone.”

“Why?” you ask, and Adrian, already scrolling through his phone gallery, glances over at you.

“Because I took a picture,” he replies, returning his attention to his phone.

“You know,” Emilia adds, “I actually have a tattoo.”

“What?” John scoffs. “You do not.”

“You do?” Chris asks. If Emilia was trying to distract him, it’s working, because he’s reaching back between his legs to haul his chair in again, retaking his seat, leaning halfway across the table towards her. “Where?”

“Somewhere I am not going to show you right now,” Emilia replies.

There’s a beat.

“But maybe later?” Chris asks, and Emilia gives him a look that could have killed him if she had been slightly better trained.

“I have a tattoo,” you add.

Adrian’s head snaps up. “What?”

You thought that might get his attention back on you. His eyes burn through yours before they start skimming over your face, then downwards, coasting over your collarbones. He goes further before snapping back up to meet your eyes again.

“Where?” he demands, before insisting, “No, you don’t,” then asking, “Where?” again.

“Jesus, put your eyes back in your fucking head,” John admonishes him.

“You didn’t see it?” you ask him. It’s only a small tattoo, a tiny design you let your friend do on your hip. You’re not surprised he didn’t notice it, since you’ve only been together a handful of times and your hip is usually either covered by something— his mouth, or his hand, or his leg, or his own hip— in those times.

“No,” Adrian exclaims. “Where is—”

“God, please, not here,” Leota insists.

“Tell me,” Adrian insists immediately. “Tell me. You have to tell me. Where is it? I’ll—”

“We should probably start heading out soon,” John suggests, keeping the coolest head as designated driver and still managing to look halfway certain Adrian’s about to get them kicked out. He jumps to collect cash from everyone for their shared tab.

The entire time, Adrian’s eyes and heated gaze are fixed on you. Only briefly will they flit away before returning back. You’re finding yourself glad John’s the designated driver, because you’re sure Adrian would crash the car— or make you crash the car— if one of you were the ones driving back to the motel.

It’s only when you’re all actually back out at the cars you rented for this mission that you realize you can only ride in one together if there’s only one designated driver.

“Fuck,” John says, staring at the car. He sighs, then steps around the car to examine it from another angle. He sighs again. “Okay, well. Anyone willing to walk?”

“No,” Emilia immediately stops anyone from volunteering. “We can fit. We’ll just— We’ll share.”

“Sorry, we’ll share?” Chris asks.

Adrian turns to you. You can see the intention in his eyes in the moment before he speaks, leaping on the suggestion with, “Yeah, yeah, I’ll just— Harcourt, you sit with Chris, and— (Y/N) can sit with me.”

“Gross,” John comments. “No way.”

“I can sit with Chris instead, I guess,” you say. Adrian’s eyes snap to yours, blazing with a sudden snap of surprised anger.

“No,” Emilia responds first, too quickly, before Adrian even can. “I’m okay sitting with Chris, that’s fine.”

“If you’re sure,” you say, smiling at Adrian. His eyes are fixed on yours before they skate down again, still seeking. If only he knew what else is under here.

“Only if you promise not to do anything fucked up,” Leota warns all four of you. “I mean it, sickos.”

“Cross my heart,” you reply.

“Isn’t this illegal?” John asks Adrian, who waves him off.

“That’s not applicable here,” he tells him, already climbing into the car.

There’s barely enough room for you all, even with your stacking arrangement. In order to fit everyone in the tiny vehicle, John and Leota take the front seat— little more than a bench in front of the steering wheel— while Chris and Adrian are side-by-side in the back. They’re so broad that the spread of their shoulders practically stretches window to window. Chris, especially, is so huge that Emilia probably has the most space to sit just for sitting on him.

You don’t have a lot of attention to pay to Chris and Emilia, though. They’re focused on themselves— and John on the road, and Leota on her phone— so you can dedicate yourself to being as covertly gross as you want to be.

From the moment you climbed into Adrian’s lap, he was completely full-body tense. One of his hands holds your hip, keeping you in place, unknowingly stroking his thumb in tiny sweeps just over the small marks of your tattoo. His other hand is held over your thigh, fingertips stretched to the inside.

Underneath you, in the little rattling rental car, you can feel the initially half-hard line of his cock. He’s pressing up into your entrance through your clothes and his. Every time the car shifts even a little bit, the two of you even slightly jostled, you can feel him getting harder and harder. The thick line of it only gets more solid beneath you, his grip tightening with each passing second.

You can feel yourself getting more and more soaked in response. You clench our thighs together in his lap, desperate for any kind of friction you can get, but it’s not enough.

When John hits a pothole, Adrian accidentally shoves up into you, a quick there-and-gone grind that has you biting back a soft noise in the back of your throat. Adrian’s hands tighten so hard you can feel the indents of the bruises they leave.

You twist slightly, your eyes flying up to meet Adrian’s. He looks up at you from the other side of his glasses, a burning green fire that surges into your mouth and down your spine without a word being spoken.

Beside you, Chris makes a slightly-too-loud grunt of a noise, and Leota calls from the front seat, “That better not be what I think it was.”

“We’re here, anyway,” John says. You’re wedged against Adrian’s front still, arms tucked together, the hard, hot line of his cock striking just against your center, sending a jolt through you as the car comes to a stop. The heat of the car feels impossibly heated. You almost wish the ride wasn’t so short.

When you climb off of Adrian’s lap, all you can feel is how wet you are, how on edge you’ve become. Your underwear is soaked, and you haven’t even shown it to Adrian yet.

“Alright, here’s the room assignments,” Emilia says, fishing a bag of motel keys and a little notebook out of her bag. “John and Leota, me and Chris, Adrian and (Y/N).”

“Just because we’re not fucking one of y’all,” Leota grumbles. “We should get our own rooms for putting up with this.”

“Seconded,” John agrees. “I don’t mind, though.”

“I don’t mind,” Leota says. “I’m just saying. Why should we have to share just because they’re using it as an excuse t—”

“Goodnight,” Adrian declares, taking the key for your motel room with him from Emilia’s hands. Your bag and his have already been removed from the car’s trunk and slung over his shoulder.

“Goodnight,” you echo. You offer them a wave before jogging after him. It’s obvious— to you, and probably to anyone who can see him— that he’s rock hard right now. You follow him without hesitating, practically sprinting up alongside him to catch up with his long strides.

“You need to get in this room right now,” Adrian tells you, as soon as you’re within earshot. “I am going to lay you out, and I am going to find that fucking tattoo, and I am going to fuck you into the mattress,” he informs you, fumbling with the key in the motel room door. “And then I am going to—”

“I actually had a thought first,” you suggest.

Adrian all but breaks the door to the motel room in. He flings his bag aside, sets yours on top of it before he’s whirling on you to pick you up and haul you over his shoulder. Kicking the door shut behind himself, he locks it twice, the knob and the deadbolt.

“Put me down,” you insist, so he takes you to the foot of the only bed in the room and throws you down on it. You laugh as he tears his jacket backwards off his arms, already starting to climb up over you. “No, wait—”

“I waited long enough, I think,” Adrian argues. He takes you by the hips and drags you down to meet him, ducking down to press his smile to the hinge of your jaw. “Don’t you think I’ve been so good?”

“Yeah,” you breathe. “Don’t you think that’s why you should get a reward?”

Adrian lifts his head immediately, eager, excited. “What? Did you actually get me something or are you just teasing me? Like, obviously you’re a present in and of yourself, but—”

“Get up,” you tell him, and Adrian scrambles backward, up and off the bed.

You stand, hooking your fingers in the collar of his shirt so you can spin him, swapping your places. With your hand flat against the center of his strong chest, you push him to sit down at the end of the bed.

“Here or in the chair?” you ask him.

His excitement impossibly seems to double, triple, as he reaches up to skim his hands up your thighs. You push him away, stepping back and out of his reach.

“Decide,” you tell him, and start unbuttoning your shirt at the highest button, up by your throat. “Bed or chair?”

Adrian turns to look at the armchair by the curtains covering the windows at the front of the motel room. He’s clearly torn, but the novelty of the chair seems to win out for him, because he points towards it and answers, “Can we—”

“Yup,” you tell him, and he’s already scrambling. He nearly vaults over the length of the bed to get to the armchair, dragging it out and setting himself in it. When he turns back to you, he’s all eager anticipation and aroused confusion, waiting for your next move, trusting that you have a plan for him.

You do very much have a plan for him. You slip the next button loose on your shirt, threading them down one at a time. You have an undershirt under this top layer, so you’re not too concerned about revealing skin, not just yet.

“Are you going to show me your tattoo?” he blurts out, hands gripping the meat of his thighs as he watches you, struggling not to just reach out and touch. “Please, please, please, show me? I’ll do anything, anything you say, I’ll— I’ll fuck you,” he tells you, pleading, “I’ll fucking— I’ll make you feel so good, you won’t fucking believe it, just— Just show me, just— I have to know, I have to—”

“Shh,” you quiet him, reaching out to set your fingertips over his lips. He’s silenced, eyes flickering up to meet yours. “I’ll show you if you don’t touch until I say. Okay?”

“Yes,” he agrees. There’s no moment of hesitation. His nails dig into his jeans, tight in his hold of his own thighs. His knuckles are going white, he wants to hold you so badly.

You smile as you reach the last button on your shirt and slip it back off your arms and onto the ground. Adrian’s eyes are already coasting down your body, searching every newly exposed bit of skin for a mark, though there isn’t much yet to see. You reach next to untuck your undershirt, taking the edge of the fabric in your hands so you can ease it up and over your head in one long, sinuous roll. Your muscles all work together to reveal you from the waist up.

“Oh— Motherfuck,” Adrian curses automatically. “N— No, you fucking did— not, where did you get that?”

“I just came across it,” you tell him, reaching for the button on your jeans, pushing them apart.

“Can I?” Adrian asks, grinning, and you laugh.

“Maybe.” You ease the zipper down, then spread the fabric so he can get a glimpse at your underwear before you lean to push your pants down in a curl that has Adrian leaning forward, hands sliding forward to hold tighter the joints of his knees. “When I saw it, I just thought, you know— That looks so familiar.”

You kick your boots off, then remove your jeans, letting them join the rest of your clothes. When you lift yourself back up, shoulders back and spine straightening, you can feel the heat working over your expanses of exposed skin just the way Adrian’s eyes are.

“And then I thought,” you tell him, stepping closer. “‘You know who would enjoy this?’ You lean in a bit to whisper, grinning, “‘Adrian.’”

“You were right,” he insists.

“I figured,” you reply.

His grip slides up his thighs and back down again. His cock is impossibly obvious in his jeans, a hard, thick line you can see from here. He’s studying the lingerie set you’ve been wearing under your clothes all day in preparation for this moment. The set is mostly black, sheer enough that nothing beneath is concealed, but both the top and the bottom of it each have a thick teal v stripe cutting in with a thinner silver stripe matching just above, following the sharp lines in wrapping curves around your body. It’s a near identical match for his Vigilante armor, practically painted onto your skin.

The v cuts across your chest on both sides, streaking across your nipples. They’re visible through the sheer material still, and the budded peaks of them grow obvious as you become more flushed under Adrian’s unrelenting stare. The v on the panties cut down in stripes across your hips, laced in a scoop down your waist. It looks like the v is pointing downwards, as if Adrian needs more direction than he already has.

“Fuuuck,” Adrian draws out in a long curse before he whines. “Please, I— Fuck, you look so hot, motherfucker, nobody’s going to ever fucking believe me—”

You laugh, and Adrian’s words cut off, flying up to your mouth, then your eyes again. He tracks your every movement as you draw closer, taking a step nearer, then another, then another. You pause before him, considering, just barely in touching distance but not yet touching.

It looks like he’s actually sweating. You lean in nearer, letting your hands come to grip the arms of the armchair, holding you up without touching his body. Adrian’s nearly shaking, trying to keep himself still. It’s an impossible feat for him on a good day. You haven’t told him yet, but he’s already held out longer than you expected him to, which means he does get his handsome reward.

He is my handsome reward, you think to yourself, a thought so absurd and sappy you resolve to tell him— but later, when he can appreciate it properly.

“Do you like it?” you ask him.

“Do I— Sorry, do I fucking like it?” Adrian demands. “I want to— Can I—” He groans, insists, “I have to fuck you, please, plese, please—”

“Hold on,” you half-laugh. It’s impossible to be fully humored when you’re clenching around nothing, wanting friction on your clit, wanting him to fill your cunt, aching for him. You take the last step closer to him, reaching to brace yourself with a hand on his strong shoulder.

His face is burning red as you climb up onto his lap again. You have a much better angle this way than you did in the car, settling your knees on either side of his thighs, wedged into the armchair with him.

You let your other hand come up to thread through the hair at the back of his head, guiding him into tilting backwards to look up at you. He looks like he’s about to fall apart, his hands trembling where he’s gripping the arms of the chair, now. His heart is racing so quickly that his pulse is visible rabbiting in his throat, an obvious pound-pound-pound you can see throb.

You drag your hand down to cup his jaw, tilting him up into a soft kiss. You just barely press your lips to his as you lower down onto his lap again. He’s so hard now that, even through his jeans, you can get friction on him through your panties.

The fabric is soaked, and drags against Adrian’s denim over his cock to make him cry out your name, teeth biting into your lower lip.

“I’m trying to do something here,” you tell him against his mouth, half-mumbled before you draw back again. “I watched YouTube tutorials on lap dances, let me do this.”

“I’m so sorry, I don’t think I’m going to make it that long,” Adrian tells you in what sounds like mostly a genuine apology. “Please, can I touch you?”

“Soon,” you promise. You lift up off of his lap, missing the touch as soon as it’s gone, but you’re dropping down again only a moment later. You grind down on his cock in rolls, gripping his thick hair in one hand, his strong shoulder under the other.

“Oh, my God,” bursts out of Adrian’s mouth. “Oh, my God, oh my God, oh my— Oh, my fucking God—”

He comes forward, seeking the closest piece of skin he can reach. The flat of his tongue drags up the curve of one breast, moving to mouth at your nipple through the sheer fabric of the black-silver-teal bra. His teeth scrape up over the hard bud of it, and a shock shoots through you.

“I’m sorry,” Adrian apologizes in a rush, his words hot and wet against your skin through your lingerie. “I’m sorry, I forgot you said not to touch, I had to touch, I’m so fucking sorry—”

“It’s okay,” you tell him, smiling. You reach between your bodies to push open the button on his jeans to open them yourself. “You can touch now.”

His hands fly upwards, grasping your waist and tugging you inwards in a sharp jerk. Your breath whooses, tightening your hold in his hair. “Where the—”

His mouth glides up your throat, his hand following, He’s cupping your breast in his hand, thumb brushing over your nipple. Your back arches, and you grind down over him, desperately seeking friction.

“Where the fuck is your tattoo?” Adrian demands, pulling back enough to start searching over your skin again, trying to find the mark.

You don’t answer with words, but you do guide his hand to your hip, and he gets the hint easily. Before you know it, he’s grabbing you up by the hips, hoisting you to throw you down on the bed all over again. He yanks off his clothes so hastily his shirt half-rips, but he doesn’t even seem to notice, dropping them in scattered piles across the floor.

It must be such a relief for him to get his cock out; you watch him finally slip the last of his clothes off to leave him bare, taking himself in hand, and he moans out loud in the next second.

“Oh, fuck,” Adrian bites out. He jumps back up onto the bed over you, shoving you up the mattress, diving into your throat to suck a rough mark there beneath the cut of your jaw. He rolls his hips into yours, then glides down, searching. He’s kept his glasses on, focused as he examines every inch of your skin.

He follows his eyes with his lips, tongue following, teeth biting, mouth sucking. He’s practically fucking your leg by the time he reaches your hip, tugging the fabric down, and cursing, “There you are, motherfucker—”

You huff a breathless laugh as Adrian bites your inked skin, laving his tongue over the mark to soothe you when your back arches, a cry ripping up out of your chest. He rises up on his knees, eyes stroking up over you as he frantically strips his own cock at the sight of you.

“Holy fucking shit, I want to— I want to take fucking— I want to take, like, fucking boudoir photos of you and frame them and put them up all over my fucking house but if anyone else ever saw them I’d have to fucking kill them so maybe I shouldn’t—” Adrian’s babbling, and he only stops when he drops down to take your nipple in his mouth again over the fabric. He makes a half-whine, half-moan that shoots straight down to your cunt.

Adrian’s free hand wriggles down between your thighs to tear the fabric of your lingerie aside. He doesn’t bother taking off the panties, just getting them out of the way so he can drag his fingers up through your slit. There’s wetness everywhere, slicking his path; he dives deeper, finding your entrance, pushing in just a bit.

He takes your wetness to his cock, uses it to ease his glide. Within seconds, he’s dragging his mouth up to the hinge of your jaw, biting in as he pushes into you in a hot slide, his hips meeting yours.

“I think I’m going out of my fucking mind for you,” Adrian mumbles into your skin. “Oh, shit, I think I’m losing it, I fucking— I think I love you—”

“Adrian—” you say, your heart jolting as your cunt tightens, feeling his cock pulsing inside you. You’re impossibly filled, pushing up to roll into the friction of him, grinding up frantically to get the last shocks you need to push you over the edge.

Adrian drags you in closer, fucking you up in his lap before he shoves you back down onto the bed. He’s already losing his rhythm, the teasing you drew out for so long— from the night at the bar, to the short ride here in his lap, to everything you’ve done since you got into the motel room— finally coming to a head. He can’t stop saying your name, begging you, face flushed, glasses knocked askew as he drags you into another kiss.

He’s gasping, then, and his lunatic pumps into you and the crazed way he’s grinding against you has you knocking over the edge. You collapse into a melted pile in the bed, his arms the only thing holding you together as his cock splits you apart.

You tell him, “I love— I love you, too,” because it’s all you can feel, your chest and heart and cunt full of the emotions. You’re coursing with it, and he slides his hand up to guide you into a biting new kiss.

“Fuck,” he says, from his throat into yours, more a vibration than a word or even a sound. In the next instant, he’s over his own edge, holding you tightly in place on his cock as he fucks you through his orgasm. You’re overstimulated in the best way, completely dissolved, chest heaving, aftershocks rattling through your mind and body like white lightning that takes you over in rattling waves.

You reach out for him, bringing his throat to your mouth. A gust of a sigh breezes out of your chest when you brush your lips over his throat, then drag your tongue up the strong cut of muscle to his jaw, working lazily and sloppily at his skin.

He huffs a shaky laugh, murmurs, “I can be ready to cum again in, like, ten minutes at the most if you keep that up.”

“That’s not incentive for me to stop,” you mumble, working aimlessly against his skin.

He turns to face you, letting his face drag along yours until he can pull you into a long, open-mouthed, loose-jawed kiss, licking behind your teeth. You let out a shaky moan, and he smiles into the kiss before separating you. He pecks the corner of your mouth, then the tip of your nose.

“Maybe I don’t want you to stop,” he tells you. His eyes skim down again, a blaze of heat down your body before his calloused fingers trail up to grip your hip again. “You are— Oh, fuck— I love you—”

You smile, drawing him into a long kiss that has him grinding up into you again already starting to fill thick and hard again before he’s even pulled out of you.

Against his lips, you ask him, “Do you mean it?”

“Do you?” he replies quickly, and you nod, grinning. He flushes up to his ears, says, “Hell yeah,” and dives in, threading his fingers through your hair to drag you in again.

-

requests used:

"Hiii hope you're great. DRINK WATER💕💕 anywayy I was hoping you can write a one shot of the gang in a bar after a mission and they started talking about tattoos and reader has a hidden tattoo. Adrian wants to find it so badly. He begs and talks so dirty he'd do anything to see it 😭🥴 thank youu" (anonymous)

"Adrian chase/vigilante x reader (has a vagina) >explicit Ok but what if you all have to take a smaller vehicle and he offers to have you sit on his lap because it's either him or someone else and he cant let you sit on anyone else's lap and you end up sharing a room (optional: oblivious mutual pining + oblivious cuddling + awkward mornings) and some like rough Adrian. Please 0nly do what you feel comfortable with" (@delirious0pandemonium)

"Help! I’ve fallen into an Adrian Chase shaped hole and I can’t get up (nor do I want to). Just wanted to say I have been LOVING your fics and present to you an idea - showing up to Adriana place with a coat on, then opening it up to reveal a lingerie set in his colours/matching his armor (like black bra with the teal v stripes) and him going feral. That’s it, that’s the ask." (anonymous)

"i would take pictures of you like this so bad but if they got leaked and you were exposed without your consent i would rip out my own eyes out in retaliation" (@nobodys-baby-now)

"Could I have an Adrian x reader, where he comes home and the reader surprises him with a lap dance? I would love to see how you write his reaction. :)" (anonymous)

-

adrian chase taglist:

@violetrainbow412-blog @bigassbisaster @amysuemc @sunflowerfive @papitas-con-sal @saturnngal @neptuneswritingwork @jewishdelis @myguiltypleasures21 @pinkygunslingy @violinchick @r3tr0sp3ct @chaseadrian @breathing-in-waves @rishlurh @x-milf-hunter-x @goblynnrockz @theowritesstuff @jaysfav @themartiansdaughter @dallasvakarian @missscarlettangel @pieriinova @samantha24015 @hillaryroadheadcllinton @ohmybubbletea @buckys-estrella @witchywcmans @ladyrebel25 @eviejune @vigilantesluvr @bb-skyrunner @qjuiq-odakyu

thinking about how matt eats pussy to show gratitude. he’s just so overwhelmed with how much he loves you when you do those little things to care for him and show him your love, that he resorts to doing the thing that he knows makes you feel good.

bring him lunch at work with the intention to not leave until he’s actually eaten because sometimes he gets too preoccupied and forgets to take care of himself? you’re getting bent over his desk and he’s spearing your pretty hole open with his tongue before you can say anything other than your initial “hey matty.”

fussing over him and some minor injuries he came back with after patrol? you’re getting pushed back into the couch, folded nearly in half, and he’s lapping at your twitching clit until you’ve come so many times that you become a wet, boneless mess under his hold.

wake up early in the morning as he’s getting dressed, even though you don’t have to be up for hours just so you can send him off with “have a good day at work, honey. don’t get into too much trouble. love you”? you’re getting yanked down to the edge of the bed and watching as your boyfriend kneels down and throws your legs over his shoulders to bury his tongue into your fluttering cunt.

Again

miguel o’hara x fem!reader

nsfw masterlist | main masterlist

word count: 0.7k

summary: miguel finds out you can squirt, and he wants to make you do it again

warnings: SMUT (18+), minors DNI, miguel being kinda needy, unprotected sex (pls be safe irl), a bit of praise and degrading :), creampie (bc i have a breeding kink), a lot of italics bc how else would y’all know what I mean?, also Spanish (translation at the end)

A/N: this thought would not leave my head, so this happened. also, I know there’s a lot of debate ab squirting and how it happens/what it is…I don’t have time to get into all that, just enjoy the short little fic // as always, feedback is greatly appreciated, reblog and lmk what you think! <333

Thinking about how Miguel would react the first time he makes you squirt

You two have been going at it for a while now, and he’s made you come twice already

He switches up positions, and you swear you can feel him deeper this time, hitting a spot inside you that no one ever has before

And, by God, you’re seeing stars. You can’t think straight, not when he’s pounding into you with an intensity that makes your soul leave your body; it’s a completely otherworldly experience

He just keeps going, keeps hitting that spot, and oh no, again, a-fucking-gain.

You didn’t think you could reach your orgasm so fast, but he feels so good, and you just can’t hold on any longer

You gasp, gripping onto him tightly, “Miguel, please, I’m…ay dios, I’m gonna-”

You squirt.

Miguel stops completely, staring down at where your bodies meet. Eyes wide, taking in what just happened before looking back at you to meet your shocked gaze.

You swear your breath catches in your throat. That look he gives, one of pure hunger and lust, feral even.

“Do that again.” His voice comes out as a growl, a command. Fuck, he needs you to do that again. The way you squeezed tighter around him, the way you sounded when you squirted, the dazed look you had…he needs it again.

He starts up again, trying desperately to mimic what he had been doing earlier to ensure that you would squirt at least one more time.

“Por favor querida, hágalo otra vez” You’ve never seen him so needy, and you can’t help but whine at his words.

He brings his thumb to your clit, rubbing tight circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves, trying to bring you closer to the edge. “C’mon baby, please, I know you have it in you, just one more time, that’s all I’m asking. Solo una vez más.”

You don’t know what comes over you. Maybe it’s his intensity, how badly he wants it, the way that he’s begging you, the way his cock hits that spot inside you just right.

You’re squirting…again.

And the moan Miguel lets out? Absolutely heavenly, you assume that’s what the angels must sound like when you reach the pearly gates. Although, they could never truly sound as good as he does.

And he’s thanking you, praising you, telling you, “Así cariño- such a good girl, squirting all over my cock like a fucking whore.”

You can’t take it anymore, you’re so overwhelmed, so strung out, so overstimulated - but you need more. Need Miguel to give you exactly what you want, and you know he’s close.

“Por favor amor, sé que quieres-” You whimper, barely able to get the words out. Your mind is foggy, unable to string together a coherent thought other than the desire to be wrecked and filled by the man before you.

“Mm, you want me to cum? Want me to fill up your pretty little pussy? Want me to breed you?”

You don’t have to say anything, the way you tighten around him and dig your nails deeper into his skin is enough of an answer.

And he can’t hold out any longer, not that he wants to anyways. 

With a deep groan, he’s cumming inside. Twitching and rutting against you, keeping himself buried to the hilt, making sure that not a single drop escapes.

He leans down, still staying inside your soaked and pulsing heat, placing gentle kisses and bites on your tits and neck.

He’s muttering praises into your skin, telling you how good you were for him.

“Siempre eres tan buena para mí.” He whispers beside your ear before turning to kiss you, passion and desire and appreciation all mixing together in an intoxicating kiss.

Anyways

I think it would become a regular occurrence for Miguel to try and make you squirt at least once every time you have sex from that day forward.

—

Translation:

ay dios - oh god

Por favor querida, hágalo otra vez - please darling, do it again

Solo una vez más - just one more time

Así cariño - like that sweetheart

Por favor amor, sé que quieres - please, love, I know you want to

Siempre eres tan buena para mí - you’re always so good for me

—

tagging some mutuals and ppl who might enjoy this <3

@zstrn // @joaquinwhorres // @dilfsfordinner // @chshiresins // @1800-fight-me // @thelmis // @harlekin6 // @banana-cheese-cake // @freeshavocadoooo // @fandoms-writings // @slocalari // @tarjapearce // @solesurvivorjen // @cozykali // @sunflowersteves // @cowb00t // @mothdruid // @inklore // @golden-barnes​ // @yourmommaissofine​ // @miggyyyohara // @hargroveandco​ //

i heard screaming

Roommate! Bob Floyd x Fem! Reader

summary: 1.9k. you’ve been so hot and bothered about bob all day that you don’t even hear him come home. 

warnings: porn with absolutely zero plot, piv

masterlist | taglist

Keep reading

The Putz and The Perv [professor!Jonathan Levy x Fem!Reader]

Summary: Showing off your anatomy in the anatomy lecture hall. 

Word Count: 8.2k 

Rating: Explicit 18+

Warnings: Exhibitionism, age gap, infidelity, drinking warm Jack Daniels like a true college gurl, taking the Lord’s name in vain, 1[one] singular use of the word “cunt”, whoops now there are two cunts. Okay now there’s three. Penis in hand, penis in mouth, penis in love?? Your immersive experience may be hindered if you speak yiddish and or have a cashew allergy.

Authors Note: Heh, anatomy, get it? I think I’m clever. Validate me and I’ll love you forever. Also don’t you ever, don’t you dare, don’t you even wish to dream to think to send me requests for shit. Because this is what happens. This is from the Scenes From A Marriage universe, but can be read as a standalone thot piece. 

You’re a pervert. You’re fucking disgusting. You tell yourself that it’s harmless, this thing you’re doing, but really, the only people who would agree with you on that are other perverts. 

You should have dropped this class weeks ago. It doesn’t even line up with your major anymore. You’re still undecided- flitting around the disciplines, last semester it was Art History, this semester it’s Psychology. So you took a somewhat safe bet with Anatomy, thinking it’d be a nice, neutral choice while you figure out what it is that you really want to do. This shit isn’t safe, or nice, or fucking neutral. It’s nuclear, and you’re making it worse every fucking class period. Look, anyone can teach you anatomy. There isn’t a specific skill to the memorization of the origins and insertions of each muscle. You just have to sit down and memorize them. Any teacher would do. And, fuck, it is just so inappropriate of you to be doing what you’re doing. You should leave the poor man alone. 

But, god, why- why is he so sexy? Without trying to be? How powerful is his magnetism that his outfit of loose corduroy trousers and Costco Dad sneakers does nothing to mitigate your attraction? It’s objectively fucking horrible. But there’s something hot about it too, like, the fact that he doesn’t care how fucking hot he is. Or, more like, he’s treating his hotness with great responsibility. Not flaunting it or accentuating it with tailored looks, but putting on the first outfit he grabbed at a goodwill in an attempt to bring gravitas to the thing that he’s teaching. He’s going to have to find much baggier clothes for that to work on you. Like a monk’s robe, maybe. No, no, not a monk’s robe. Now that’s opening up a whole new can of worms, of vows of celibacy, forbidden attraction, and, yeah let’s not go there-

Also, yes, okay, you see the ring. Of course you see the ring, you fucking pervert. Because of fucking course he’s married. He’s married and probably very happy and fulfilled. In any case, he definitely doesn’t need you sitting in the front row of his lecture hall with your short skirt, flashing him your lack of panties. Pervert.

Keep reading

feeling both of these very strongly rn:

The Guy Next Door

pairing: college neighbor jake ‘hangman’ seresin x afab!reader

summary: year after year he was there. the universe had to have something against you, leaving the man that pissed you off at your every turn. one night you decide to confront him, again, only for it to end with a confession you weren't expecting.

wc: 3.9k

warnings: 18+, smut, minors dni, vaginal sex, oral sex (f to m), vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, pet names (doll), dirty talk, hate sex turned soft???

a/n: college neighbor jake is finally here!!! sorry it took forever for me to write this.

It all started your freshman year of college. Life was great. You were finally on your own, able to explore whatever you wanted. Everything was going fine until you arrived at your English course. That was when you met him. 

Jake Seresin. 

Everyone had been infatuated with him from day one, except you. He would flash his smile and everyone would giggle, teachers included. All you could do was roll your eyes and focus on your assignments. But it all got worse when you two were paired up for a peer review. All you had to do was make it through the semester, then he would be gone. 

Wrong. 

When you arrived at your sociology class the next semester, he was there. The man with the ego the size of Jupiter. But alas here he was. You tried to keep your distance, but he didn’t seem to care. He sat directly next to you, smiling wildly as you rolled your eyes. 

“What do you want?” 

“What? Don’t want some familiar company?” 

A group project was assigned to you two. All you wanted to do was murder him. His snide comments, barely helping with the work, and everything else he did. You thought about informing the teacher, but decided it wasn’t worth it. Then the semester ended. 

The summer rolled by quickly, visiting family back home. Before you knew it you were moving into your new apartment. It was one that was one campus. The apartments were just finished last year. You saw many people carrying boxes into them, including a familiar face. All you could hope for was that his apartment wouldn’t be near yours. 

Wrong again. He was your next door neighbor. And not only was he your next door neighbor as a sophomore and junior. You prayed that for your senior year he wouldn’t be your neighbor. Hell, you’d even be okay with him being two doors down. Just not your next door neighbor. But the world must have been laughing at you. 

Your senior year when you showed up to your apartment, boxes in tow, you immediately recognized the Dallas Cowboys doormat. A rage boiled inside of you, frustrated at your luck through the years. Four years of being stuck with one of the most annoying, pompous, egotistical asshats for four years. The only thing you were thankful for was that you had different majors, meaning you only had to see him in passing. 

“Hey doll, did you miss me?” 

“In your dreams, Jake.”

He just got under your skin. Every loud game night he had with Bradley and Javy. The occasional chick you could hear. Sometimes you wondered if he actually made those girls feel good, or if he was just paying them to be loud. You had confronted him about it in the past, on multiple occasions. At first you had tried being nice about it, but he made it hard. That charming smile and gorgeous emerald green eyes made you want to punch him. And tonight, you weren’t going to let it slide. It was one of the only nights you had for yourself. 

You didn’t work that day and had finished your homework earlier in the week. You were planning on curling up on the couch, getting wine drunk while Brooklyn 99 played in the background. You might have been two glasses of wine in, but there was no denying it. You heard cheering through the walls. You quickly did a google for NFL games and saw that the Cowboys were in fact playing. They were in the fourth quarter, up by a touchdown with a minute and a half left. So, you waited. 

It had been thirty-minutes since the game ended. You slipped on your slippers, then replaced your loose t-shirt with a baggy zip up hoodie. You weren’t trying to be presentable, you were trying to look like an irritated neighbor. You slipped out of your apartment, locking it behind you before heading to his door. You stood on the Cowboys doormat, knocking then crossing your arms. 

It was a few moments until the door swung open, being greeted by a devilish smile that made your eyes roll. He leaned against the door frame,hands attached to the top of the frame as he leaned towards you. His eyes raked over you, taking in your messy yet comfortable attire. You heard a bit of shuffling behind him, not paying it any attention. You wished looks could kill, had for a long time because if they did, Jake wouldn’t be in your life. 

“Did you have a nightmare?” Jake asked with a playful smirk. 

“Haha, funny.” Your nose crinkled at his comment. He was truly the worst. 

“If you want me to tuck you back in, I will. I just have some company over.” 

“Jake, we need to have a talk. Again.” Jake looked back over his shoulder, presumably to Bradley and Javy. You knew it was the two of them, Jake didn’t watch football with anyone else. 

You heard some more rustling before the two of them finally came into view. Jake leaned towards the side of the door, crossing his arms as his friends left. Javy awkwardly waved at you as he scooted past you. Bradley gave you and Jake both a nod, moving past the two of you and following Javy down the hallway. After the two of them were out of sight you turned back to Jake. He had one arm propped up against the door frame, the other hand grabbing the door. 

“And to what do I owe the honor?” Jake asked, biting his bottom lip and looking at you. 

“You know why.” You let out a huff, crossing your arms across your chest. 

“If I did, would I be asking?” Jake quipped back. You glared at him, irritation starting to boil under your skin. “Shouldn’t make that face doll, it doesn’t look good.” 

“Jake, it’s the same thing every time.” He tilted his head against the door frame, a twinkle in his eye. He stood up straight, arm on the door frame and hand still on the door. He leaned towards you with a playful look. 

“Is it? ‘Cause I’m starting to think you just want to come over to see me.” Everything inside of you wanted to wipe the floor with his shit eating grin. 

“Why the fuck, would I ever want to see you?” Something was boiling deep inside of you now. Something you couldn’t pinpoint exactly. 

Jake watched as your eyes went wide, nostrils flaring in irritation. It filled his heart with joy. He had been admiring you for years, trying to crack that little shell of yours. But your shell stayed as sturdy as steel, never breaking or cracking. That’s when he made it his mission to at least rile you up. Any amount of attention you would give him, he feasted on. Yearning for more. More side eyes, more glares, more harsh words, more ego crushing sentiments. 

“Because I’m handsome, sexy, charming, funny, and a lot of other things.” 

“More like annoying, loud, obnoxious, vexing, and so many unflattering things.” 

The two of you stood there, staring at one another. His emerald eyes raked down over your body, flicking back up to your eyes. This was the first time you were able to take in his attire. Grey joggers, that fit him a little too well, and a black t-shirt, that also fit a little too well. He crossed his arms over his chest, biceps flexing against the material of the sleeves. His chest seemed a little bit bigger now too, almost like he was flexing his pecs. 

It wasn’t that Jake wasn’t attractive, because he was. Way more attractive than any person you had ever dated. Honestly, more attractive than any other man you had seen on campus. It’s like he had been made in a laboratory, or even carved by Greek statue makers. He was who every little girl dreamed of marrying when they got older. He looked like a fucking ken doll. But his personality, it was grating. 

“Jake, I just wan-”

Without warning, his lips were pressed against yours. His hands moved to your hips, pushing the hoodie you wore up, exposing some skin. His touch was searing against your skin, fueling the irritation already festering inside of you. You kissed him back though, pressing your body flush to his. You needed him to feel your irritation, and if this was the way, then so be it. He guided the both of you back into his apartment, swiping the door shut before pressing you up against it. 

His fingers traced the top of your bike shorts, pulling your hips flush against his own. You could feel his cock already getting hard in his joggers. His tongue swiped over your bottom lip, asking for silent entry. You let his tongue slip into your mouth, working over every inch of your mouth. He was dominating, body covering yours as his tongue took control of your mouth. The irritation was still bubbling deep inside of you, but it wasn’t telling you to stop. One of his legs slotted between yours, applying the right amount of pressure against your now weeping cunt. 

“Fuck!” You pulled back from his mouth, letting out a whimper. 

“That’s it baby, go on and say my name.” Jake chuckled, moving down to mouth at your throat and shoulder. His tongue felt like lava on your skin, searing everything it touched. “I know you want to.”

“In your dreams.” You muttered, arms wrapping around his shoulders. 

“Trust me doll, it’s already in them.” Your cunt clenched at the implications of his words. The thought of him thinking about you in this manner, it was sinful. 

A moan rippled through you when he pressed his thigh against the apex of your thighs. Your hips stuttered, giving into the delicious pleasure he was giving you. The thin material of your bike shorts was the only thing separating the two of you. You had decided not to wear panties after your shower earlier. You silently thanked yourself while rocking back and forth on his thigh. Your wetness was most likely soaking your bike shorts, creating a wet spot on your shorts and his joggers. 

“You seem a little eager, doll.” He teased, feeling the faint sensation of your wetness soaking his pants. 

“Eager for you to shut up.” You quipped back, wanting him to stop. It was embarrassing but you couldn’t seem to stop yourself. You wanted more of him, but you wanted him to shut his mouth and drop the fucking smirk. 

“Want me to put my mouth to work? All you gotta do is ask.” Jake dipped his head into the space where your neck met your shoulder. His tongue darted out to lap at your skin, pressing his thigh tighter against your clothed cunt. 

A moan ripped through your throat while you rocked your hips against his thigh. One of Jake’s hands moved up from your waist, tugging the collar of your sweatshirt to the side. Searing kisses trailed down to your collarbone and shoulder. Another moan erupted from you when you felt his teeth drag over your skin, nipping lightly. 

You didn’t want to beg. A heat filled you when you thought about begging him to give you more. You had to maintain some form of dignity. This isn't even what you had come over for. But god, were you enjoying it. It just wasn’t enough. You need more. More kisses, more dirty talk, more touching, more of his fucking texan accent. With reluctance, you swallowed your pride only to be interrupted. 

“If you want me to stop, I’ll stop.” Jake was still tucked into the crook. Hot breath coated your skin, him stopping his actions. 

Without a second thought, you laced your fingers into his hair, tugging him back to look at you. A small groan left him when you tugged the golden locks. His emerald eyes watched you, taking in your lust blown eyes. He couldn’t believe you were finally looking at him like that. You looked almost feral, like an animal during mating season.

“I will move out if you don’t fuck me.” That ticked something off in Jake. 

He was on you like a wild animal. His lips crashed against yours, dominating the kiss immediately. He removed his thigh from between your legs, quickly slipping his hand down your shorts. Fingers slipped between your folds swiftly, immediately finding your clit. The tightness in your abdomen was suddenly immense, almost on the edge already. 

“This wet already? Do I always get you like this?” Jake teased, fingers rubbing tight circles on you. 

“There’s a first time for everything.” A snarky smile covered your lips, nearly matching his own. 

Jake watched as your head fell back against his door, exposing your neck once more. It took everything in him not to latch on, your skin taunting him. He wanted to watch you, see what you looked like as you came all over his hand. He had only seen it in his imagination, dreams sometimes escalating the idea. The way your mouth would fall open, whines and moans pouring from it, all while your hips would buck against his hand. God, he needed it badly. 

“I hope it’s not the only time.” He adjusted to press his clothed crotch against your hip, rutting desperately. 

“Don’t push it, Jake.” You bit back. 

The tightness in your abdomen was almost painful. A part of you was embarrassed at the situation. No one had ever pushed you this close so fast. Let alone it be by someone you could barely stand. Your orgasm was threatening to take over at any moment. A small part of you was holding it back, not wanting to fully give in to Jake. 

He slipped his left arm around your waist, pulling you snug against him. The pressure of your hip was delightful on his cock. Every sound that came from you had his cocking twitching. He wondered if you were able to feel each twitch, able to tell how needy he actually was for you. 

“Fuck.” Jake barely picked up on the cuss, your whines almost hiding it completely. Your left hand reached for his right bicep, clutching it as your other hand fisted his black t-shirt. Jake didn’t say anything, just watched as the band in your abdomen snapped. 

Your mouth fell agape, whines and moans pouring from it. It felt like your legs were going to give out, quivering as his fingers kept rubbing your clit. Waves of pleasure rocked through you, your body trying to curl in from the sensation. You couldn’t help but rest your face on Jake’s chest, breathing in his scent. 

“Who would have thought, someone so angry could look so hot when they came.” Jake whispered in your ear, removing his hand from your shorts. You shot him a glare, still leaning against him. 

“You thought that was hot, wait until I use you for all you’re worth.” You whispered in a harsh tone. Jake raised an eyebrow, not expecting that answer. He didn’t mean to challenge you, but that was exactly what he did. “You’re gonna sit there while I ride you, and listen to me for once.”

All Jake could do was nod, a devilish smirk on his face. He led you over to the couch, hands settling on your hips as he kissed you more. Fingers crept along the band of your bike shorts, dipping below the material to guide them down. You helped shimmy out of them, the item falling to the floor. Jake grabbed your now bare ass, kneading your flesh while pulling you closer to him. Jake groaned when he felt you start to paw at the waistband of his joggers. 

“Tell me, doll. Tell me you want me, want my cock.” Jake teased, a smirk forming on his lips. 

You looked at him, inching his boxers and joggers over the swell of his ass. You refused to tell him you wanted him, even though a part of you was now begging to give in. His eyes were trained on you as you slowly moved down. You moved down to your knees as you pulled his clothing off, kneeling in front of him. You broke eye contact with him, finally looking at his cock. 

“Fuck.” You whispered.

His cock was just as beautiful as him. The head was red and angry, begging for attention. You took him in your hand, stroking lightly. He twitched in your hand, silently begging. You looked up, locking with his emerald eyes. His chest was moving heavier while watching you stroke him. He went to speak, only for you to lick the head of his cock. The tip of your tongue gathered his precum, running it over your upper lip. 

“You look so good like this.” Jake said, groaning when you took the head of his cock in your mouth. 

The skin felt like silk on your tongue. The smooth sensation was intoxicating, driving you to bob your head a little faster. Your tongue worked along the underneath of his cock, tracing a slightly prominent vein. His hand came down to the back of your head, resting there. You kept taking him deeper and deeper, your nose eventually touching the neatly trimmed curls at the base of his cock. Your hand came up, lightly massaging his balls as you deepthroated him. 

“Fuck, doll,” Jake brought his hand around to your jaw, “it’s like your mouth was made for my cock.” 

You pulled back a little, keeping a majority of him still in your mouth. You just needed a little bit of space to breath before taking him all the way back down. He started stroking the hinge of your jaw. His fingers followed your jaw, coming up to tracing your lips. Your eyes had started to water by now. Jake grabbed your hair, pulling you off of him. 

“Ride me. Now.” 

Jake sat down on the couch behind him, hand loosening from your hair. You climbed up into his lap, pressing down against his cock. His hands gripped your hips as you rocked back and forth on him, your wetness mixing with the saliva still coating his cock. The head of his cock slipped past your folds, rubbing your clit. You shuddered at the sensation, letting your head fall back as shock waves of pleasure ran through you. 

A part of you was eager for this, irritation melting into excitement. Your body had started to give into the pleasure, focusing now on just getting stretched open by him. One of your hands rested on his clothed chest, the other reaching behind you for his cock. You lined him up with your entrance, pausing before sinking down. 

Moans left the both of you as you slowly sank down his cock. His hands tightened on your hips, your hoodie covering his hands from view. The stretch was satisfying, finally whipping away all of your irritation from your mind. You could feel him twitch inside of you, a moan slipping from you. Both of your hands gathered on Jake’s clothed chest. You cursed that he wasn’t fully undressed, craving the feeling of his skin on your hands. Jake leaned forward, kissing at your jawline. 

“Take your time, doll. I can be a lot.” His words ticked something inside of you. 

“Are you challenging me?” You lifted your hips abruptly and slammed back down onto him. 

Jake groaned, grabbing your hips roughly. He glared at you, not answering you. You set a rough pace, bouncing on him rapidly. The sounds of skin slapping filled the room, moans and groans mixing with them. You fisted your hands into his shirt, using his chest to balance yourself. A burning sensation had started to take over in your thighs. 

Jake threw his head back, groaning while you bounced on him. It was better than he could have ever imagined. Your warmth was enveloping him, pushing him closer to his peak. Jake looked up at you, watching your focused face as you rode him. A part of him wondered if you were even enjoying it, or only accepting the “challenge”. He grabbed your hips roughly, stilling your movements. His thumbs circled on your hips softly. 

“Use me.” Jake said, locking eyes with you. 

Your eyes widened at his words. A small amount of embarrassment was starting to set in. You hadn’t realized that you weren’t fully enjoying yourself. But Jake did. This guy who pissed you off to no end, he noticed you weren’t fully enjoying yourself. You nodded. 

You started your pace again, slower this time. You rocked and rolled your hips against his, eliciting moans from the both of you. Jake’s hands on your hips helped guide you, slowly rolling your hips. The burning in your thighs was becoming tiring, something Jake was picking up on. He leaned up against you, lips almost on your earlobe. 

“Lean on me, let me take care of you.” 

You nodded, pressing your chest against his. His hands wrapped around to grab your ass, lifting you up while spreading your ass. He started to thrust up into you. The change of angles had the head of his cock hitting the sensitive part inside of you. You fisted his shirt again, moaning into the fabric. He was pounding into that spot, quickly pushing you to your climax. 

“Fuck, Jake!” You gave in when you came, moaning his name loudly. 

Pleasure washed over you, making your brain short circuit. No man had ever got you to come twice, or even once, and you never would have expected it to be Jake of all people. He kept fucking into you, letting you ride out your high. Whines poured from you, your body becoming too sensitive from all the pleasure. With only a few more thrusts, Jake pulled out and unloaded all over your ass. 

The two of you sat there, catching your breath. You rested your head on his chest, listening to his heart pound. Jake rested his head back against the couch, one hand trailing up your back underneath your hoodie. You heard a soft huff when his hand got to your upper back. 

“What?” 

“Of course you aren’t wearing a bra.” Jake said, earning an eye roll from you. 

“I wasn’t planning on being ‘invited’ in.” You responded. 

“You’re more than welcome to stay.” Jake started absentmindedly rubbing circles on your back. 

You were shocked at the offer. 

“Jake, I-”

“I’ve always liked you.” You sat up, looking down at him with wide eyes. A heat started to sear in your cheeks.

“You what?” 

“Ever since freshman year English.” Jake confessed. It was now or never in his mind. 

“But,” you shook your head, “why the fuck did you act like this? All these years of annoyance?” 

“How else was I supposed to get your attention? You never gave me the time of day.” Jake said. 

He wasn’t wrong. Right off the bat you wrote him off, not wanting anything to do with him. It wasn’t really anything to do with him, more the persona that he carried. You wrapped your arms around yourself, leaning back into him. A part of you was embarrassed about how you had acted over the years, never giving him even a chance.

“I don’t know, but this wasn’t the way.” 

“I mean, I got you in the end.” Jake chuckled, hand moving under your hoodie again. 

“I wouldn’t say you have me. Take me on a proper date then we can talk.” 

“Anything for you, doll.”

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | halloween is that special night where you can be anything you want to be... maybe more than the labels everyone else gives you. maybe even more than 'just friends'. (aka, reader has a reputation, eddie's still a virgin, filth ensues)

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 | 5.6k

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | smut (18+ only, of course), virginity loss, best friends to lovers, slight angst (mostly just hurt/comfort), unprotected sex, creampie, degradation kink (but like, in a loving way?), rough filthy fucknasty sex for no reason at all except that I'm a whore, L-bomb, reader is a candy corn hater (this was hard for me guys ngl), all men being trash except eddie (so, you know, real life)

“God, I can’t stand these,” you grimaced as you shoved the baggies of candy corn towards him.

“More for meee!” Eddie sang happily as he scooped them all up, cackling to himself as he filled his arms.  He looked especially in character as a pirate in that moment, treating the candy like his treasure.  His costume had actually come together better than you expected: the tight leather pants and boots looked less rocker and more sailor when paired with the flowy white shirt and black eyepatch.

"Will you trade your Sour Patch Kids for my candy cigarettes?" you asked him, getting an incredulous scoff in return.  

"No way," he shook his head, "I don't need candy ones, got a couple packs of the real kind in my room."

You frowned.  "Guess the candy economy changed since we were kids, huh?"

He looked up at you, a tender look in his eyes as he smiled.  "Yeah…" he trailed off.

"I'm surprised anybody gave a couple of giant seniors candy for trick-or-treating," you smirked.  "I guess that's the benefit of 'chaperoning' your Hellfire friends."

"Exactly," he beamed.  "And hey, maybe we're a little old for it, but you make for a lovely princess."

You batted your eyelashes playfully, tilting your head with the tiara pinned on top.  "Who, me?  I'm just dressed as a good excuse to repurpose an old homecoming gown."

He laughed, but then seemed to get a bit more serious then (but still happy).  "I'm glad we could do this," he decided.  "Like old times."

"We always spend Halloween together," you reminded him.

"Yeah— I mean this." He motioned to the dumped-out pails of candy on the trailer floor, and you nodded.  "And not just 'cause of the sugar rush."

You smiled softly at him, tilting your head.  "Of course, Eddie."

"Kinda thought you were gonna ditch me this year," he added suddenly, looking down into his lap at the candy he was unwrapping.  "You know… 'cause of that guy."

"Oh, yeah," you sighed, "well… that's over."

Eddie looked up again, his eyes seeming bigger than ever.  "Really?"

"Don't sound so excited," you rolled your eyes, but the sarcasm wasn't enough to hide your heartbreak.

"No— hey, I'm sorry," he offered, scooting closer to you on the floor.  "I know you liked him a lot.  But I know you know I thought he was a total loser."

You shot him a look with a raised brow.  He shrugged.

"Takes one to know one."

"You're not a loser, Eddie," you sighed sympathetically.  "And you were right about him— obviously.  I knew you were, I just… I dunno, I guess I thought I could change him?"

Eddie smirked.  "When has that ever worked?"

"For me?  Never," you scoffed.  "I think guys do change, for the right girl.  And it's just never me."

"That's not fair," he frowned, "it's not your fault that these guys are garbage.  Well— I mean, it's sorta your fault that you keep hooking up with guys that are garbage—"

You slapped him on the arm lightly, and he laughed.

"Am I wrong?" he wondered.

You slumped your shoulders a bit.  "No… but still.  Don't be so mean, I'm moping over here."

"Aw, sweetheart," he pouted, sliding closer again and wrapping his arms around you.  You sighed as you rested your head on his shoulder, shutting your eyes.  Honestly, you were trying not to cry.  Over a guy.  You told yourself you weren't going to do that anymore.  Actually, you told Eddie that you wouldn't do that anymore, after you cried over Tommy Pearson.  And sure, you cried over James Neher since then, but he didn't call you out for it… that showed how messed up you really were over it, that he didn't poke fun at you for it.  Almost nothing was too far with you two, you made fun of him for being a trailer park flunk-out just as much as he poked fun at your… storied dating history.

The one thing you didn't make fun of Eddie for (that much, at least) was his lack of dating history.  As of yet, Eddie was actually still a virgin.

Uh, mostly a virgin… he got a blowjob once after a Corroded Coffin show, and called you first thing after to tell you giddily about how it went.  He was heartbroken, too, when she never called, but he didn't cry— he just started dodging your questions about it until finally fessing up that she totally disappeared.  So you put on one of his favorite movies (The Evil Dead) and wrapped him up in a blanket, and he was over it in a night.

That was a couple months ago, though, and Eddie had had no luck since with losing the remaining half of his virginity.  You hadn't had any trouble finding guys, just in finding those special (potentially imaginary) ones that don't disappear after you put out.

The conversation drifted back to candy and the next Hellfire campaign before it looped back around to relationships again.  It started because of a debate about if gum counted as candy, actually.

"Maybe, like, Juicy Fruit counts," Eddie decided.  "But definitely not just any old spearmint stick."

"I thought you liked spearmint gum!"

"Yeah, but it's not candy!  I like a lot of things that aren't candy!"

You huffed.  "So you're not gonna give me anything for the sticks of Trident?"

"Best I can do is… one Tootsie Roll," he decided, tossing the pathetic little taffy at you as you scoffed.

"Don't insult me," you grimaced as you tossed it back, "I don't want your individually-wrapped waxy chocolate byproduct."

"I'll be honest, I didn't really understand that," he frowned, "but I can tell it was an insult to my beloved Tootsie Rolls."

"They taste like eating a chocolate scented candle!" you announced.

He gasped dramatically and held one of his larger Tootsie Rolls up to his chest, like he was protecting it from your words.  "That's not true, baby," he whispered to the candy, petting it tenderly, "she didn't mean that…"

You laughed at the bizarre display.  "God, you're such a freak," you reminded him.

"And you're a slut," he returned with a wide smile and a tilt of his head.

That was your thing, you'd always say that back to each other, like a nickname.  You started it to try to take the power away from the names everyone else called you two, and it worked: it didn't hurt nearly as much getting called a slut when you could remember the way Eddie said it like a term of endearment.  And he said it was the same for him, even though he pretended like he'd never been bothered by his label.  He did have it worse though… he was the freak, you were just a slut.  

"If you don't want the Roll then I guess I'm getting that gum for free," Eddie decided, about to reach for it, but you smacked his hand away.

"No way," you frowned.

"Are you gonna chew it?" he assumed.

"Never," you decided, "but I can find someone who wants it."

"Why won't you chew it yourself?  Still turned off to all gum by that Fred guy?"

"It was Frank," you corrected, "and yeah, he never stopped chewing that stupid Extra.  Even during…"

"Guess he needed a little Extra help in bed," Eddie snorted.

"The sex wasn't that bad, actually," you recalled, "it just… smelled a little too minty fresh."

"Does it normally smell like something else?" he asked.

Your face got a little warm.  "Uh… yeah, kinda."

Eddie wrinkled his brow slightly.  You thought that was the end of it, after a long pause, and you were just about to change the subject when he broke the silence.  "What's it like?"

"The smell?!"

"No, no!  The sex.  What does it feel like?" he asked hesitantly, flipping up his eye patch to look at you properly.

"Well, I dunno— it's hard to describe."

"Everyone says that," he frowned.

"And it would feel different for you anyways," you added.

He nodded.  "Right."

"One guy said that I felt like a warm bath, but like, only on his cock," you remembered, almost laughing at the memory.  It was a weird thing to say, especially in the middle of sex.

Eddie choked.  "O-oh…"

"What?" you tilted your head, confused by his reaction.

"I just— um, I was trying to figure out how it feels in general… I never even… I never thought about how you feel…"

Your face heated up a bit.

"Does every girl feel different?" he realized, leaning in a little closer to listen to your reply.

"That's what I've heard," you shrugged.  "Every guy feels different."

"Different how?  Like, bigger or smaller?"

"Not just that— sometimes you can feel, like, the head and stuff…" you explained, continuing when Eddie looked a little confused, "like, if the head is really big you can feel the edge of it.  Or if he's uncut you can sorta feel that too, in the way he strokes.  And then there's how curved it is…"

Eddie's stare was a little glassy.  "You can feel all that?  Just with your pussy?"

You nodded.

"That's…" he trailed off, clearing his throat.  "Yeah.  Cool."

The way he was clearly flustered by all this made your hips shift against the floor for a second.  You and Eddie had obviously had pretty raunchy conversations before (see the aforementioned post-BJ phone call) and sure, sometimes they kinda turned you on… but this one felt a little different.  Usually if you felt that feeling while talking to him about something it was because you were remembering something you'd done before; this was the first time you were actually imagining something.  Something, specifically, happening with you and Eddie.

"You know…" you started before shaking your head and scoffing.  "Nevermind.  Too weird."

"What?  Nothing's too weird with me," he grinned— one of his teeth was drawn out in black for the costume, and he looked pretty silly.

"I was just… I dunno," you shrugged.  "If I tell you, you won't be, like, offended, right?"

"Well, I guess it depends on how offensive it is."

You sighed.  "Just don't judge me, okay?"

"Never."

"I was thinking, if you wanted, you could… try it out.  With me."

He froze.  "Try… sex?"

He'd dropped his head lower between his shoulders as he said the last word.  You nodded briefly.  "Yeah."

You couldn't even begin to describe the look on his face.  "Well, that's… not offensive."

Already you felt ridiculous, and you shook your head as you started to backtrack.  "I'm sorry if that was a really weird idea, I'm not trying to—"

"No, no!  It's okay," he assured, reaching out towards you for a second but not actually touching you.  "I just… didn't think you would say that. Um. Yeah. So, we would just, like, do it?"

"If you want to."

"I mean, not that you're not— you're gorgeous," he promised, talking over himself, "you know I think so.  But you're my best friend.  Wait— no.  You're gorgeous and you're my best friend.  It won't make stuff weird with us, right?"

You raised an eyebrow.  "Are you gonna make it weird?"

"No more than usual," he smirked.

"Then, no. It wouldn't be weird.  It would just be, like, a friend helping a friend out," you decided, "like how I hadn't tried LSD 'til I met you.  You can try this, with me."

"Yeah, but," he lowered his voice, scooching a little closer, "this is different.  I gave you drugs but you… you're the drug.  It's your body, and you're giving it to me."

You fought the urge to bite your lip.  "Yeah," you agreed, "I don't mind.  Just use me for a bit."

Eddie's throat bobbed as he swallowed, mouth falling open for a second.  "Use you?" he repeated.  "God, why is that hot?"

"'Cause guys are always into that— they wanna feel powerful or whatever," you explained with a snort of a laugh.  "Wanna feel like they're conquering something."

"Heh," he laughed nervously as he reached up to scratch the back of his neck, "are we all so predictable?"

You smiled at him, leaning closer slightly and tilting your head down to look up at him through your lashes.  "I dunno," you teased, "but I'm predicting you're gonna take me up on this."

"Fuck yeah I am," he decided, grabbing your face to pull you closer— but then suddenly stopping.  "Fuck, wait, can I kiss you?"

You blinked quickly.  "Um, yeah," you decided.

For all that bravado before, he hesitated before he did kiss you… and it was actually pretty sweet, and gentle, and way too short.  Yes, it did feel sort of weird knowing you were kissing Eddie, your best friend since 4th grade, but not a bad kind of weird, necessarily.

He was smiling at you already when he pulled back.  "You know you don't have to do all that, right?" you reminded him.

"I-I know.  I'd feel weird about it if I didn't kiss you first, though," he explained.  "And, you know.  Kissing is nice.  Friends can kiss."

"Yeah," you laughed.

"We can, uh, go to the bedroom," he offered.  "Not that it wouldn't be fun to do it on the floor surrounded by our candy quarry— just, uh, not how I pictured my first time."

"Well, either way," you replied as you both stood up, following him across the trailer to the bedroom, "it's not who you pictured your first time with."

"Yeah, well, Joan Jett was busy tonight," he laughed, and you laughed with him, falling onto the bed together with a sigh.  You'd done that a lot before— but sitting up on your side, facing him, starting to touch his chest delicately through his shirt… that was new.

"Do you want me to ride you, or—?" you started to offer.

"No! No," he sighed, "I wanna— like you said, use you, right?  I want you to, uh, lay back, and I can go as fast or as slow as I want."

You smiled a little.  "Okay," you agreed, "but— I should probably take this dress off first."

"Let me help," Eddie offered, even though you didn't actually need any help.  You turned away from him and felt his hands delicately unzip the back of the gown; the ghost of his touch on your spine made you nearly shiver.

Once it was unzipped, you shimmied out of the garment and tossed it aside, leaving you in just your bra and panties (and the tiara, which you'd forgotten about.

You laid back on the bed for him to climb on top of you, which he did, his eyes running all over your body.  "Listen, I know you're already doing me a really big favor," he cleared his throat, "but, uh, maybe… maybe you could show me your tits?"

You grinned and reached under your back to unclasp your bra, hearing him sigh a little at the sight of your bare chest.

"Can I—?"

"Sure," you answered instantly.  Of course, you thought he was about to say touch them, so you gasped in shock when he actually latched his lips onto them, suckling at your nipples eagerly.  "F-fuck, Ed…"

"Wow," he breathed when he pulled back, "they're really sensitive."

“Yeah,” you agreed, deciding not to mention that that wasn’t always the case.  “I can’t help but notice that you’re still in your pirate get-up there, Munson.”

He smirked.  “Unfair, isn’t it?”

Nodding, you watched him sit back on his feet so he could pull his shirt off over his head.  You'd seen him shirtless plenty of times before, but the toned torso with a decent scattering of dark hair and even darker tattoos was always a welcome sight.  He'd gotten even more muscular in the last couple years, something you'd sort of tried not to notice, but you couldn't fight the urge to run your hand over his chest and pecs when they were exposed.

“Is that better?” he grinned, but you laughed loudly right away when you saw one of his teeth was still blacked out for the costume.  He wrinkled his eyebrows before he seemed to remember, looking a bit more shy for a moment.  “R-right, sorry…”

He reached into his mouth and scrubbed the black marks off with the pad of his finger, licking the tooth for good measure before showing his teeth again.

“Back to normal?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you answered, “good as new.”

Your hand was still on his chest, lightly, and he got a little more serious as he took it and guided it down: over his slight abs and down to the thick bulge in his pants.  You sighed a little at the feeling of it through the leather, he was so hard and warm even through the heavy material.

"Damn, you're big," you noticed.

"Really?" he grinned.  "Fuck, okay."

"I should've known you would have a big cock," you laughed, rubbing him a little firmer through the pants, "you've got that way about you."

"Oh?  I didn't— I didn't think it was that big," he mumbled.

You smiled and pulled your hand out of the way as he shimmied the pants down his thighs, exposing his erection that bounced back up to his belly button.  (Yes, it reached that far, and you felt a little dizzy.)

"So," he broke the silence, "that's… that's my dick."

"Y-yeah," you nodded, sounding a little hoarse.

He let you stare at it blankly for a while before clearing his throat, tearing you out of your trance to look up at him; he smirked at you proudly, the smut bastard.  "You're looking at me different now.  You look… well, you're kinda drooling."

"Yeah… sorry…" you murmured absent-mindedly.

"No, don't be," he assured.  "You know, the girl that gave me that blowjob, she could only take it to about here before she choked."

He held his finger up to halfway down his shaft, and your hips shifted.  "I could get it deeper," you announced.

"Oh, you will," he promised, "but not with your mouth— I don't have any use for your mouth, babe.  You promised me your pussy, that's what I want.  And she's gonna take all of it."

"Are you talking dirty to me now?" you noticed.

"It might be dirty, but it's true," he smiled, falling down on top of you and holding himself up with bent elbows beside your head.  "You can still back out, you know," he reminded you.  "No judgment. We'll go back to normal."

"We were never normal, Eddie," you reminded him.

"Right," he grinned, "but still.  Are you sure?"

"Yeah— if you are."

He kissed you again, right when you least expected it.  "Yeah," he whispered when he pulled back slightly.  "I'm sure.  I, uh, think it's about time that I lost it, don't you?"

Nodding in agreement, you reached down and wiggled yourself out of your panties, totally naked under him.  He sighed slowly and looked down for a moment— only to look back up with his lip between his teeth.  

"Fuck. Okay. Are you ready?" he asked.

"Are you?" you returned— he looked pretty nervous, shaking a bit, breathing heavy.

"Yeah, fuck, I've been ready for this for years," he laughed breathlessly.  "Just didn't think… yeah, fuck.  Didn't think it would happen tonight."

"Well, if you keep stalling, maybe it won't," you smirked.

"Okay, okay— no more stalling.  I'm gonna… I'm gonna fuck you now."

He sounded like he was convincing himself more than you— but a moment later, he plunged forward and filled you with his cock.

He shivered as he pressed his hips up to yours, moaning weakly.  For a moment, you couldn't help but bite your lip at the feeling of him buried all the way inside you, but thankfully he didn't notice: his eyes were shut tight and his head tossed back.

You sat up, barely, just enough to put your lips by his ear.  "You're not a virgin anymore, Eddie," you whispered to him.

He sighed, then laughed slightly.  "I guess not."

"How's it feel to be inside a pussy?" you asked, genuinely curious for his reaction.  "Compared to a blowjob."

"God, it's— it's so much better," he panted.

"Really?  Some guys really seem to prefer getting blown even though it's not nearly as fun for—"

"No, fuck, this is better," he insisted quickly.  "Your… your pussy feels so— and it's— fuck, so warm, warmer than a mouth.  And… and really tight— god, it's so… squishy?"

You laughed.  "That's not a very sexy way of describing it."

"W-well, sorry," he laughed too, breathlessly, "that's how it feels.  You're— thank you for, uh, letting me do this."

"Yeah," you agreed with a smile, relaxing into the mattress under you and noticing the way he was staring down at your face.

"I can move, right?"

You nodded; he shuddered a little as he pulled his hips back and pushed forward again.  He caught you watching his face, so you shut your eyes quickly and just focused on the feeling.  It had actually been a while since you had a hook-up, and though you didn’t expect this to last very long, you could at least just enjoy it for now.

"Fuck," he breathed, "it's so… sticky.  Fuck."

“Sticky?” you repeated.

“I-in a good way,” he added quickly.  “God, I just… you’re really wet, s’all.”

Eyes still closed, you felt a smile trying to creep up on your face.  You could tell he wanted to know why you were so wet, specifically he wanted you to say that he made you that way, but you decided his ego was already getting enough stroking for the night.

His breathing was heavy and slow, but the pace of his hips picked up.  When you blinked your eyes open, he was staring down at where he was fucking into you; that made you feel a little exposed, but oddly powerful, too.  "Wow," he groaned, "I— I love watching it.  The way it, like… splits open, around my cock… fuck.  That's really sexy."

His next thrust was a little harder, his hips colliding with the back of your thighs as you wrapped your legs around him.

"Mm," you moaned softly, adjusting yourself under him a bit.  "That's nice— you feel good."

"Really?  Fuck, I couldn't feel half as good as you do," he grunted, "'cause if I did you wouldn't be able to be so quiet."

"I'm just listening to you," you explained with a smirk.

"Can you feel the, uh, head?  Like you said before?"

You nodded.  "It's rubbing this one place inside me— it feels good."

"Oh, fuck," he purred, starting to move faster.  "Tell me that again."

"It feels good, Eddie," you groaned, "you feel good."

"Fu-uck," he whined, shutting his eyes tight and tilting his head back.  "How good?"

You knew he could be a little competitive, and you smirked slightly.  "Better than the other guys," you answered, figuring that was what he wanted to hear.

"Do you— fuck— do you let a lotta guys do this?" he asked roughly.  "Just— use you, to come?"

You shook your head.  "No— I need something from them, they have to make me come.  But you don't have to, Eddie, I don't need you to do anything to me except whatever you want."

"God," he choked, "that's— fuck. you're way too nice.  I-I’m gonna— fuck, I don’t think I can last very long.”

You just smiled and reached up to hold onto his shoulder.  “S’fine, you can come— I want you to.”

“Really?” he whined.  “Fuck, I’m not very good at this, am I?”

“Just come,” you encouraged, “it’s okay, Eddie, just come inside me—”

The second you said that, he groaned weakly, head falling onto your shoulder; you felt it a second later as he gave you a few more weak thrusts, the flexing of his cock as he finished inside.  Sighing in satisfaction, you shut your eyes and wrapped your arms around him tightly.  

After a long silence, with his heavy breathing falling on your ear, Eddie rolled off and onto his back beside you on the mattress.  “You look different,” you giggled as you turned to look at him while he stared up at the ceiling.

“I feel different,” he agreed.  “That was— yeah.  That was different.”

“Good different?”

He looked back at you, finally, with raised eyebrows.  “Are you jok— yeah!  Fuck yeah, that was— Christ.”

There was another long silence, maybe a few minutes’ worth, but it wasn’t uncomfortable at all.  You and Eddie were always pretty good at silences.  This one was heavier, and more meaningful, but just as natural as usual: until he broke it.

“Wanna do it again?” he asked softly.

Your eyes widened.  “Uh— fuck, now?”

“Yeah,” he grinned at you.  “I’m still— maybe this time you could actually— you know, uh—”

You bit your lip as he stammered over a few different sentences.

“Or if that’s all you wanna do, you know, with me, that’s fine,” he promised, “but, um… I feel bad, you know, that you didn’t…”

“Okay, yeah,” you agreed quickly, “I mean, if you can still—”

You hadn’t even finished your sentence before he was inside you again.  Moaning louder, you tilted your head back and held onto his sides as he fucked you; his mouth latched onto your neck and you let out a small whimper.  “Fuck,” he mumbled against your skin, “fuck— you feel so good…”

“I— Eddie, I didn’t think you could—” you began.

“I didn’t think I could either,” he laughed, “but it’s just— fuck, you’re so… I just need to— god…”

His thrusts were harder and faster than they’d been before, and everything was so slick with his come still leaking out of you; it was filthy in the best way.

“I didn’t think you’d let me do it twice.  I… I really don’t deserve this,” he insisted quietly.

"Yeah, you do," you breathed.  "You're so sweet, Eddie, you're my best friend— dunno what I'd do without you—"

"I lied," he blurted out suddenly.  "I thought about it before.  About how you would feel."

You barely even remembered the part of the conversation he was talking about.  

"All the time, god, I thought about it all the time," he admitted with a lowered voice, resting his head on your shoulder, fucking you even deeper until your eyes rolled back.  "Thought about it while I jerked myself off— how your pussy would feel.  And it's so much better than I thought it'd be.  You're really tight— I didn't know if you would be, 'cause, y'know, you're a slut."

You wanted to correct him on that old myth about tightness and promiscuity, but you were too busy trying not to moan so loud the next door trailers would hear.

"Fuck," he laughed, "you got even tighter when I called you that.  Slut."

"Freak," you choked out through a moan, your instinctive response.

"You haven't seen the freak yet, princess," he smirked proudly, lifting his head up to look down at you.  "I wanted to fuck you different than this, too— I thought about fucking you from behind.  Smacking your ass and watching it bounce on me.  Making you fucking scream."

"God, Eddie," you whined.

"Is this how they talk to you?  All those guys you let put their cocks in you, do they treat you like this?"

"N-not exactly…"

"Well, that's too bad," he whispered, "'cause I can tell this is how you like it.  Am I wrong?  Do you like being fucked like a whore, and called one?"

"Yes," you sobbed, "yes, Eddie, I… I like it rough.  And mean."

He chuckled.  "That explains a lot.  I can be mean, sweetheart."

The kiss he planted on your cheek, though, was gentle and delicate.

"Or I can be nice," he added in a whisper.  "I can be whatever you want."

“Just… be yourself,” you decided, sounding more like an inspirational poster than you intended to.  He smiled and kissed you on the lips after that, reaching down to hold onto your thighs.

Well, it turns out Eddie ‘being himself’ in bed means fucking you mercilessly.  And he was holding onto you mainly to keep you steady so he could rail you halfway to fucking death.

It was useless trying to keep quiet now, while he treated you this way, and so your loud moans were muffled only by his lips on yours; until, of course, he broke away and you could hear them echoing around the messy bedroom.

"So good," he grunted, "so— so fucking good.  Such a perfect pussy, can't believe you're letting me use it.  I'm so fucking lucky— my best friend is a hot slut, I'm so lucky—"

You arched your back a little deeper still, clinging to him tightly, feeling totally helpless in the best possible way.

"Gonna let me use this pussy again?" he taunted.

"Yeah," you breathed.

"Whenever I want, right?  You can be my little toy, baby.  Your pussy can be my toy."

"Yes!"

"And I'll keep you so full of come," he promised, "so full, all the fucking time, you're gonna make my cock feel so good— fuck, baby, you're gonna let me get my cock wet all the time."

"Yeah, Eddie, fuck," you moaned.  

"You're so pretty," he blurted out, and you almost laughed because of the sudden change of tone.  "God, baby, you're so pretty— you look so pretty like this."

"On my back?" you smirked.

"N-no, you don't understand," he whined, leaning down so his chest was pressed to yours, whispering against your ear.  "You're beautiful."

You smiled a little, holding onto him tighter.

"And I thought that before you let me fuck you," he promised.  "I always thought you were beautiful.  And that it should be me and not those guys you go home with."

"Y-you were right," you admitted, "but— we're still just… just friends, right?"

"Shut up, you're not fucking listening," he groaned, "I— god, I love you, okay?"

Your eyes were definitely just watering because of the intensity of it all; you hid your face in his shoulder, biting your lip, feeling your toes curl just above where your ankles were crossed around his hips.

"I love you and we can't just be friends anymore.  You feel too good… I'm sorry, baby, we can't just be friends, I fucking need you."

“I— fuck, Eddie,” you whined.

“You love me too, right?” he breathed.  Shyly, you nodded against him.  “Then say it— baby, please, I need you to say it.”

“I love you too,” you choked out.  “I need you too—”

"Oh my god I'm gonna come again," he gasped, tilting his head back.  "Fuck fuck fuck, I'm gonna come inside you again.  You're gonna be so full, baby.  Gonna fuck you so full…"

“F-fuck, please, please,” you sobbed, your beaten walls clenching up every time he slammed himself into you all the way— it was too deep, but the right amount of too deep, somehow.  “Please, Eddie, fuck!”

“I’m coming,” he grunted in a low and gravelly voice that made your spine tingle, “I— fuck, I’m coming again, fuck—”

This time, he stopped completely and suddenly, burying himself inside you with a long, deep moan.  He slipped his arms under your arched back and hugged you tightly.  This silence was much longer than the last, and a little less comfortable; there were all these questions hanging in it, including but not limited to: did he really mean all that?  Did I really mean all that?  Why haven’t we been doing this the whole time?  Why is he so good at that?  Are we dating now?  Is this going to ruin everything?

It didn’t seem like it would ruin anything— actually, to you, everything felt right in a way it never had.  You’d never really admitted to yourself how you felt about Eddie, let alone anyone else— let alone him, right now, in the middle of some spontaneous sex that you thought was going to change everything but actually made things suspiciously the same as ever.

That was what you realized, then: that this hadn’t actually changed anything.  You’d loved him before tonight.  You’d wanted this for a while.  You’d needed him as long as you could remember.  Everything could continue on as normal— except, hopefully, and presumably, that you’d be fucking a lot more.

As your mind raced, Eddie’s was completely and totally blank in a way it never had been in his life.  He was entirely blissed out, and only came to when you shifted under him and made him hiss in a breath through his teeth.

Lifting his head, he looked down at you, reaching up to pet your cheek with his thumb and hum happily to himself.  That moment couldn’t last too long, though, especially when he realized he’d failed at his goal: “Shit,” he groaned, “you didn’t come that time either, did you?” 

You shook your head sheepishly, about to assure him that it was fine— there’d be other chances, clearly, and tonight was already more than perfect without that.  He’d still done way better than you could’ve ever expected for a guy who was a virgin half an hour ago.  

But before you could say any of that, he’d pulled you into a lazy, yet hungry, kiss; he smiled against your lips as his tongue carefully teased yours, holding your face in his hands.  You were totally dazed when he pulled away, blinking up at him with totally undeserved innocence, and he had the most devilish look in his eyes.  “Guess that means we’ll have to go for another round, huh?” he asked.  But it wasn’t a question: he’d decided, and so had you.