! TWO OF CUPS .04.

┌─ “ ! „ TWO OF CUPS .04.

tw. incest, dubcon, coercion, size kink, belly bulge, praise, hair pulling, a lot of emotional bs, jealousy, angst, love triangle wordcount. 7k

part 01 part 02 part 03 fin.

a/n. it has come. the end has come, she's here, it's over and the witch is dead (i'm the witch, this killed me a little inside but i'm very glad to have it finished). as always i would love to hear your interpretations and thoughts about this chapter and story in general because i feel like there's a lot here thats,, up for interpretation and discussion and yea <33 and ty ty ty a million to @seijorhi and @darlingsanzu for beta-ing for me i am in your debt forever and ever

itoshi rin x fem!reader x itoshi sae

He imagines if it were anywhere else, the room would be covered in a thin layer of dust by now. But it isn’t, courtesy of a caring, fretful mother— the room remains in pristine, paled stasis. Instead every old textbook, every picture frame and the ancient soccer jerseys have been dutifully cleaned, and are splayed out in front of him like a near-perfect copy of his childhood. Sae runs his fingers along the length of the desk as he slowly drags himself around the room in a circle, before coming to a halt in front of the bookshelf.

His parents were as surprised as any to see him home, considering he should be ready to head back to Spain soon, with the upcoming season and all. And truthfully, he had been ready to call his bumbling excuse for a manager two days ago. Should’ve landed splayed out in yet another sterile hotel room in a place he doesn’t care to explore hours ago. So he blankly wishes he could play pretend at amazement too. It isn’t very surprising that in his time of uncertainty, he finds himself here- where he used to keep you locked in his arms under thick blankets. He hasn’t been back home in a while. And not unlike other times, there’s a nagging voice in the back of his head.

He picks apart the perfect little shrine of accomplishments of his childhood room by pulling the picture frame up to his face, can’t help but frown at the sight. There’s a younger him -years before he joined Real Madrid- sweaty, sore ankles and exhausted on a bench, and right beside the youthful reflection of his own maroon-haired head, sits a girl a couple years younger. Her cheeks chubby and raised as the beaming smile shines all the way though the flimsy picture paper- and your arms wrapped endlessly tight around his stomach as joyous tears glitter on your lashes.

He won that match, of course, but that uneventful match out of thousands before it wasn’t why the picture landed itself a spot in the middle of his most cherished valuables. You were. The memory of your heart beating into him like a drum, of how it felt to be adored by you. Adoration that had gotten stale years before you’d started giving your all to him— felt different when it came from someone with no deeper motives. When all he’d ever given you was an unending game of playing catch-up.

His hand twitches with the urge to toss the picture back down with the rest of his sentimental crap. He doesn’t bother to put it back in place, pushing it aside for the tiered trophy that looks much too big among his other old belongings. The gold layer gleams in the low light of his room as he takes it off of the shelf, and his frown digs deeper into his face.

But a soft clearing of a throat by the door makes him look up. His mother smiles as she appraises the room, and then him. “I’m making you a protein smoothie. I know you probably won’t stay the night but-”

“I’m driving up to the airport tonight,” he breathes out, trying his best to force the distaste off of his face. His mother nods again, and then steps inside almost cautiously, as if not to disturb the peace of the past. Ironic, Sae thinks, considering. He only came here to do exactly that. Nothing in the Itoshi house is sacred, hasn’t been for years. After a few seconds he plops the trophy onto the desk, and stares down at the woman before him with a deep sigh. “You came in here to say something, right? What’s up?”

You spend enough time with people over the years, you learn their tells. The reddish brunette starts picking at the pictures thumb-tacked above his desk before she speaks. “You stayed over at Rin’s for a few days… We haven't seen either of your siblings in a while.” A pointless starter, because they both know these facts. She’s stalling, tiptoeing around any point worth making.

“Oh, yeah,” he breathes. She could ask about his sudden visit. Or about Rin’s blatant dismissal of going anywhere that you won’t follow. Could ask about what Sae himself did to you. Maybe he’d finally be able to give a straight answer, if she dared. But she doesn’t, and Sae goes back to thumbing through the old photo album tucked away behind a mess of medals. His mother hums.

“You know we’ve tried to raise them to be respectful, and Rin’s shown promise. But your sister—”

Sae’s somewhat of a sadist, he thinks. To everyone around him, but also to himself. Coming here was a surefire way to land himself into shit, and yet... “They’re both in Tokyo and they get along well, mom. What’s the problem with living together?”

“Your father and I think your little sister should start letting you two live your own lives. I know she means well, but isn’t she a little too old to be so- well— you know how she is.” It once again is anything but a compliment. He knows how you are. Sure, folded in angles no brother should ever know his little sister, maybe. It makes a slight breath escape his nose like a laugh, but there’s nothing funny about it. “How else will she ever accomplish—”

“She’s fine! I’m fine, Rin’s fine— and it’s not like you ever cared, anyways. As long as we all hold up your precious standards, you don’t really bother to care, right?” The ticking of his internal alarm reaches zero, as he turns around to stare her down with thinly veiled impatience. “Your constant shit-stirring is what started this whole mess.” No wonder you grew into a codependent ball of emotion. What else could you do than let him kiss your mouth in the peace of night when he begged you to stay. What else could you do than let Rin sink all his problems into the warmth of you.

Your parents don't have the slightest idea of who any of them are, not really. It could hit them in the face and still somehow miss them. It’s almost amusing. 

Her face goes red in the cheeks, sharp eyebrows starting to slant into the irritated grimace that he’s more used to. “What ‘whole mess’? What, what? I’m at fault for being concerned? I would expect you to know by now, Sae. Your little sister’s a needy, unstable girl with no further prospects like you two! And Rin-”

“She probably loves Rin more than you and dad combined ever could. She’s been to every match. Not you, her.” His voice is low and final as he meets the sea blue eyes aimed at him head-on. “And Lord knows no husband will ever look at her like Rin does. But of course you’re too enamored with your ‘perfect children’ bullshit to understand what goes on.” He breezes past the accosted breath of his mother clutching her collar, before walking with long steps towards the door, and letting out a sharp chuckle. “Don’t talk to me about my own little sister. I know who she is.”

+

The street is too bright and prim for his liking, as he walks up the porch toward the building— slowly dragging himself after you as you hesitate at the threshold. Even your absent-minded humming doesn’t make his nerves any less frayed, moving his jaw back and forth when you bury your face back into the papers as if you have any clue what you’re doing. Long enough for his foot to start tapping a rapid rhythm, before he finally nudges your chin up to look up his way. “Hey, we don’t have to do this. You don’t- I…” There’s a distance between you two that seems to grow with each passing second. “This is silly,” he ends on saying, unwilling to dampen the barely-there brightness in your eyes for the first time in days.

Your lower lip juts out as his hand brushes just briefly past your cheek to clear your face, and the wind ruffles the stapled stack of paper. “Daddy told me I should move out of your apartment.” There’s a guardedness that flicks over your face for a second, before you pull out of his reach to start gathering your hair up into a high bun and nod, “there’s two more on my list, you can go home if you don’t want to stay, nii nii.”

Rin’s blue eyes narrow, and he grabs your wrist to pull you back before you can walk away from this. “Hey, forget about what dad says. You don’t have to move out.” The mere idea of having you slip through his fingers presses on his chest, rattling his ribs a little with each breath. It gnaws and claws at the back of his brain hard enough to make him a little dizzy and— and he knows you don’t want this. You can’t possibly think that being alone would somehow be better than being with him. “I never asked you to move out.”

“Niichan,” your voice is small when you dare turn more his way, revealing the wobbly lip as you try to pull your arm out of his reach. He can’t be wrong about that.

“I’m not- I’m not asking, okay? Listen, we’re going home-”

You shake, shoulders and head both. “Why are you making this so difficult? I know I’ve already overstayed my welcome, and you’re too nice to tell me ‘no’. That’s what this is.” No. He isn’t wrong. He knows you- and you couldn’t fake the kindness you give him when he fails the most basic family rules. If anyone imposes… it’s him. With every kiss along your shoulders in the bathroom, or when you let him pull you onto his lap to wind down whenever he damn pleases. His selfishness is the thing that overstayed— for long enough that he can’t even imagine his life without you.

His thoughts might not come out as well in words, but even you must know this much. You aren’t this self deprecating. Before he can find it in himself to care that you two are technically out in the open, he grabs your cheeks on both sides, and lowers himself to press his forehead to yours. He loves you. He loves you so much he could die. He hears, more than sees, how you fumble with the papers in your hands as he keeps you so close to him— opening up that shield for once. There is no world in which he allows it to end with you even further away.

“I want you to stay.” The whisper clearly deals more damage than he intends, because your eyes go glossy as soon as he says it. “Don’t make me beg you.” He pulls back from you just enough to take a breath, but his thumbs stay on your soft skin. You suck your bottom lip in between your teeth, before pulling up your nose and leaning the weight of your head into his one palm. It’s soft, and too gentle -makes him scared to snap you in two with a single move- he thinks it wouldn’t be past him. Sae delivered a serious blow, he knows that. If he wasn’t so green with envy, he’d be able to relate.

After a few more seconds, you faithfully reach to press your mouth to his like you’ve been conditioned to do. And hesitate, staring at the path under your feet. “Okay.” You wrap your arms around his waist— and only leave him aching for more.

Always more, barely getting his gluttonous fill started. Still, it makes his skin tingle with heat, buzzing along his lips. Your fingers lace themselves in his, and he’s only very vaguely aware of the old couple passing you two by with a disgruntled sigh. It makes him pull you protectively close. And a soft, almost fearful chuckle falls past his lips. “You aren’t going anywhere without me, okay?”

+

Rin doesn’t mind having a temper when it doesn’t play him parts. It is what made him the man he is today. When you’re not involved, he even likes it. But though he tries his very best to control himself, his jealousy inevitably ends up catching up to him. Patiently built up through the years— it barely makes it a whole week after Sae leaves before it bloats inside him and starts to rupture. Leaving a sour, sour taste deep in the crevices of his skull.

The apartment is all you when he walks in. It strikes him as you face him with big eyes, that warm at his presence. You’re wearing an oversized shirt that just about covers your ass, and are turning the food around in the pan as your face lights up; and any sane brother would act accordingly, but his brain insists. This is the sight he wants to be greeted with for the rest of his life. Having the one person who can harm you closest, or something. He always was an opportunist, but he thought Sae the selfish one.

It’s almost pitiful that you play your role so graciously. The tongs rattle against the cutting board when you perk up to kiss him, and for a second longer than usual, he keeps you. Ever since Sae, his guilt hasn’t been enough to keep the longing down. It’s karmic punishment, probably. Always stuck treading in the redhead’s footprints. He keeps his mouth against yours until you start getting hot in the face, and start fidgeting with his fingers.

Not that Rin cares. He simply wraps himself around your back and links his arms under your breasts, and knows you won’t protest. The colors of Sae’s barrage on your throat have yet to fade, deep purples and blues that tint yellow at the edges— and asks him to resist the urge to make his own. He truly, truly doesn’t mean to be this way. You’d probably have a breakdown, and he has yet to even touch that can of worms. In your presence, he almost forgets. If he wasn’t so often fucking reminded, maybe he’d be able to rid himself of the shackles he knows are clinking at his ankles.

The brief brush of his lips along your jaw makes you shiver, then you look back at him over your shoulder. “That tickles, nii nii. Stop it.”

“I’m just looking.” The cockettish curl that your lips take on when he raises a single brow is devilishly distracting, hips suddenly pressing much too close to yours— so he averts his eyes, but can’t make himself pull away from you. Instead he talks, trying not to nuzzle into your cheek. When you try to slip out, his hands chase, and trail fingertips along your skin just below the shirt. A shirt he recognizes as Sae’s when trying to hide away in your smell, only to be painfully reminded. After a long breath, he brushes a finger along your throat, resting his chin. “What’s all this?”

He’s sure you’re not naïve enough to miss the question. But you only raise your shoulders the slightest bit, and jut out your lip. “Hmm… I- don’t know.” It’s hardly a lie, convincing exactly no one. You don’t miss a beat though, and focus on the food. “How was the meeting?”

Rin can’t help but frown at the blatant dismissal, but tonight, he’s too tired to care. He’s so fucking sick of letting Sae in, even when he’s not even around. So he strokes your thigh harder, in an attempt to feel more of your heat. “Training this year will be in Germany and France.”

“Oh.” You seem to let out a silent sigh of gratitude as he lets you run, before the situation catches up with you. “Oh. For how long?”

“Three months.” The tone of your voice is distinctly soft, and has his eyes on the tiny drop of your mouth corners. It’s a non-issue, though. Even if he could physically stand it -which he’s not so sure he could, supporting his weight against your smaller body- he wouldn’t want to go. You’re coming, whether you like it or not. “What kind of hotel room do you want?” His instinct is to press another kiss to your cheek, trailing his mouth ever so slowly down to your throat and shoulder — and trying his fucking hardest not to let the whisper send his thoughts down the wrong path.

“Nii nii-”

Too late. It’s much too easy to envision you in the plush covers of his bed, moaning out his name like you did… Like he knows you can, dressed in his shirt instead. Your hips are pressed close to his, and you smell so fucking good, you have his eyes fluttering shut as he repositions his hands to your thighs. He only swallows hard, lets out a deep breath against the soft skin where your neck meets your shoulder, and forces himself to pull his mouth away.

There’s a low, rumbling sort of noise in his voice when he speaks next. “What? You’re coming along, right?” As he glances at the side of your face, he’s awfully aware of the jittery way you’re trying to continue dinner, blushy hot ears and cheeks, and lips puffy and glistening from biting them. It’s fucking unfair. His mind instinctively wanders, and heat pools in his cock and balls too quickly before he manages to take a few deep breaths. “I know you don’t wanna stay here all alone.”

“I don’t. If- If you want me to come, I will,” you nod, and also shiver when his hands softly squeeze in response. “You won’t mind sharing a room with me even in a hotel?”

God, he wants to bend you over and grab you by the collar for being so fucking dense. It’s cute though, too innocent to reason with- it stresses him out as much as it heats his entire body. How could he mind, after two years of sleeping in the same bed as you. “We’re used to it, ‘course I don’t.” You move out of his arms to turn off the stove, and smile, but it doesn’t really seem to reach your eyes. As your hands slide along your neck and shoulders, your posture stiffens, swaying softly on your feet— and Rin sucks his tongue. Those fucking blotchy marks come clear into view again, and they nag. They’re a sore sight, a few breaths away from nauseating.

He can’t help but think you wouldn’t ask the same question to the oldest.

To add insult to injury, you nuzzle into the soft edge of the shirt for comfort, in a way so awfully familiar it makes him feel ill. Why, why, why. His heart rate spikes as he stares at the floor instead. “You spent weeks in a hotel with Sae when he went to train.” It comes out a lot more accusatory than he had in mind, though he tries to hide the bitter tone in his voice. “Can’t be that different.”

“It is different.”

“-How is it any different? Because Sae will abuse your silence in a way that I don’t?” It’s so fucked. Rin knows full well that he isn’t innocent in this situation, not even close. But he hates the way you fist your hands into Sae’s shirt, how you cling to it like a lifeline— not even trying to cover the hickeys he seared into your neck the first second Rin wasn’t looking. Hates it so much that arguing rationally goes out the window. He wants you to love him as much as he loves you; because facing himself makes him sick. There’s nothing in the world more painful than knowing what he feels for you. So fully and deeply to his bone marrow, it squeezes his chest so tight the air barely reaches him.

“W- I just-” your eyes desperately dart around the kitchen for anything to say, “I love niichan, and he- he loves-”

“No, I love you, imouto! I’m the one who cares! He came here to use you and leave, and you’re asking me to pretend like I’m fucking stupid, or blind! I’m not here for you to feel better about being Sae nii’s play thing,” he snaps, having your eyes wide at the outburst, wringing his hands together in shame. Shame at needing to beg to want him, to care. Shame at longing for his own fucking blood in ways he shouldn’t. Shame at how fucking lesser than he feels. It builds and builds until his face feels hot, and Sae’s stupid fucking smug grin flashes in front of his eyes. He wants to tear his own hair out at it, but it wouldn’t even solve anything.

He can’t escape it, as long as he doesn’t have you as a guarantee. You, little, sweet you— stand there so disarmed, seeming so much younger than you are— tear-filled eyes and crossed arms. It’s the same look you’d get when Sae would goad you into stupid fights that you’d inevitably lose, or any time Rin would pretend to hate you as a kid. You almost seem to topple over with the force of the words, and Rin falls quiet. Your pitiful look is all that’s left in Pandora's box. “Don’t… don’t cry.”

Your bottom lip wobbles until your shoulders pathetically start to drop, like a kitten picked up by her neck, and you scrunch your face in a way he’s never had to see before— it shatters any composure he has left. “I can’t not…” your voice sinks to a whisper, a sad little whimper. “I don’t know- wh-how. I’m sorry, I don’t get you two. I don’t get it— I just can’t- have you leave me too. Don’t leave, nii nii.”

Silvery tracks run all over your cheeks, your chin, down your neck before you finally dare look at him again, and beg. “Please, I’ll do anything you want, I just- Can’t handle it if you leave- hck- Please, Rin. Anything you want, I just- don’t make me go without you too.”

Your hand hovers halfway between grabbing for him and falling short, as you cry- for him. For him to stay, and ask him to, for maybe the first time, give his feelings a chance. Selfishly, so fucking selfishly, it blossoms inside him with a prideful glow. It dismantles him and rebuilds him from the ground up all at once, has his heart beating out of control against the same rib cage that shouldered his guilt, before he manages to peel his tongue from the bottom of his mouth.

“I’m not going anywhere…” his voice manages, almost cracking along with the tremble in his hands as he places them on your sides, sliding to your waist.

The physical, emotional turmoil instantly ebbing away when you crash yourself into his chest, is almost sickening. It doesn’t matter though, not to him, not when he lifts you up into his embrace and your legs wrap around his waist, letting him rest his face against your throat and allowing you to burrow yourself into his arms. “I’m sorry. Your big brothers love you, I promise. I love you. I’m never leaving.” The way you cling to him gets tighter, as if forcefully anchoring you to his chest— and he takes it as space enough to nudge his face up into your view and brush noses in the process. He should feel more guilty. He knows Sae, and he knows you- and despite what the other man might think, Rin has no illusions of being a saint.

Rin knows that Sae told you whatever string of lies that stuck best, asked you to lay down under him and come undone, and you did so without a second thought. And though he hates that thought, it isn’t born out of the goodness of his heart. He wants you to be his, and only his. The brush of his face along yours makes you shiver, and softly shake your head- but he can’t help it. He can’t do you one better than Sae did. His lips hover yours, lashes fluttering under low lids as the salty taste of your tears gets between you. His hand raises to your neck, letting you arms and legs support yourself against him as he pulls you in, and whispers. “Kiss me back.”

+

The small, rounded window reflects back his own face against the dark sky, tipping the dark liquid around the glass in disinterest. First class feels awfully plain now, he almost laughs, sliding the glass along the bar. A pretty, blonde flight attendant passes by, swinging her hips as she tops up the other man’s glass with a smile and deposits another bottle by their sides. Sae doesn’t bother to look up as he fiddles with the fine chain in his pocket.

“Come on, prodigy boy… we’ve got two more hours to kill.” Michael’s small smirk grows when he tosses another few ice cubes into his glass, and tops himself up even further. “Don’t tell me you’re already tuckered out.” The chain slips between his fingers a little as he pulls it out— and lets out a long, pinched breath. Long lashes brush his cheeks as his eyes narrow, and the gold-plated necklace lands in his palm. He pops the small square open.

Even printed so small, your taste is mirrored back onto his tongue, and sets the hairs on his neck on end.

Michael barely gives him a momentary glance, before taking a sip, crossing his arms over his chest. “I didn’t know you were religious.”

“I’m not.” His thumb brushes ever so briefly over the face in the picture, before he snaps it closed again. And the white blond raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t ask, for once. Maybe he knows the answer won’t satisfy any of his curiosity. Doesn’t matter to Sae. The whites and oranges of the airplane make light spots in the layer of fog outside— and he raises the glass to his lips after all. He wants to groan and yell until he drowns out the noise. Maybe punch something too.

His life has been a string of unfortunate sacrifices… so why. Why is this one any different? The slightly sweet tone under the bourbon hits the back of his throat, and he rests his forehead on the cool bar in hopes of getting a clearer head. Instead of clearing anything, his thoughts start crawling to the forefront again. He thinks of the flow of your hair between his fingers, and the way you say his name. He doesn’t miss home. Doesn’t miss Japan. He just misses the warmth in his chest when he’s able to return to you. God, he hates his pitiful, sentimental crap.

He wonders if Rin’s finally made a move.

+

Your mouth is completely occupied as Rin crawls over you and slides a leg aside to fit his hips against yours— your hands sliding into his hair when you roll back your head with a soft squeak to catch your breath. “Rin, Rin- I don’t think we should- do this.”

Your clothes are discarded by his feet and your pliable body laid out before him as your legs brush his. He shivers as your breath brushes over his cheek, and makes him want to clench his eyes shut to escape it- but he can’t. Never could before, and it’s no different now. He’s entranced by the rise and fall of your chest even under your hands that keep the slightest sliver of modesty. Not like he hasn’t seen all of you before, right?

He allows for a few breaths before he needs to be back to your mouth, opening your lips with his and connecting tongues— and almost knocks teeth with yours in his excitement to get closer. Your tongue on his tastes so good, melting every warm, desperate feeling and slipping it down his throat. Now your palms go to grasp his waist instead, brushing over the exposed skin to squeeze. “Rin.” He’s barely clear headed enough to pull back to cast a glance at you, and he grunts out your name. His face moves to your tits instead, grabbing and licking at every inch of skin that he can, and you whimper. “St-Listen to me. I think- we can’t.”

He can’t listen. His mouth slots over your nipple to bite at it, and you go to grab a handful of his hair with desperate, flexing and unflexing hands. Your chest raises into his touch and the licking and sucking, and it sets everything in his head up in flames. You’re no longer the little sister he wanted to protect. Not when you’re withering in his lap and grinding yourself against him like a slut, begging with fluttering lashes for his cock to drive home. Fuck. “Rin nii~” you whine, your lips are puffy and glistening. “Hmph, listen~” Fuck fuck fuck, he wants to have you crying out his name until it’s carved into his brain.

“What?” he finally manages to breathe back, skipping his hand along your naked thigh. His heart is about to beat out of his chest with you under him, rocking the couch when he raises himself above you. But can you blame him? He’s never been so fucking hard in his life, unable to think of anything but the softness of your body under him, and the taste of you. He slides up to tilt you back more and lets his eyes fall to your naked body again. Maybe he should be used to it by now. Used to you. But everything about you makes his body feel like a balloon that’s about to pop— and he sucks his tongue, fighting the urge to drool over all of you. “What?” he repeats again, eyebrows raising.

Rin realizes a split second before you speak that he doesn’t want to know, sees it in the pitiful look of your half-lidded eyes. But you’re too honest for your own good. “I never told you- that niichan touched me. I’m sorry. I said that we couldn’t- but- but niichan didn’t listen to me. And now he doesn’t like me anymore.” Too fucking honest for your own good. His stupid, pretty little sister splayed out in his fucking lap. How naïve are you? Instead of any solid thoughts crossing his mind, his mouth simply falls open a sliver, and he stares. If he didn’t already believe you… he would probably laugh. “I know I did a bad thing. I’m sorry.” Your lip wobbles, and you pull his hand to your chest to cling onto him. His temperature reaches a boiling point, flushing his brain with red.

“It is bad.” He nudges your face up to his with a soft sigh, and then presses several kisses along your lips. “If you’re gonna do this with anyone, shouldn’t it be me?” He could say that he will regret the way you look up at him with a thousand stars in your eyes. But that would be a lie. He’s out of guilt. His spine tingles with longing, face hot, his cock and balls thumping. It’s impossible to think of anything else. He kisses you again, letting your moans and whimpers drown out anything else, and moves to sit onto the couch. Then he pulls back only to pat his lap, and raises a brow at you as you search his face with your eyes. “Sit here, on your big brother’s lap. Hurry.”

You only hesitate for a few seconds, before he asks a little more sternly, and has you moving. “Do you have any clue how badly I’ve wanted you? Every time I look at you, you look so fucking good. So soft and sexy.”

“Don’t say that stuff,” you squeak, but you don’t fight him.

“I always want you,” Rin simply continues, as you lay your legs on his strong thighs with a pout, “you get my cock so fucking hard, see?” You do see, licking your lips as you take a deep breath and your hips roll against him instinctively. Your hands thread together behind his head, and Rin’s gotta focus so fucking hard not to start fucking the plush of your thighs. “Open your mouth.” He grunts when sliding his long fingers over your tongue, collecting enough spit to coat his fingers.

While his cock bops impatiently against your stomach, he’s transfixed on the embarrassed look in your eyes, and your whimpers as he pulls back. Truly, he’d like to spend hours exploring. And another couple hours giving you back the pure torture you put him through for the last two years. But he can’t, not when his cock is brushing its flushed head all along the belly and smearing pre-cum all over you. “Normally I’d ask you to put your mouth on it,” he grunts, free hand sliding along your cheek and taking a handful of hair, “but you’d have to keep a mouth full of cum.”

“Niichan, don’t-” you whine again, humming when the tug on your hair lingers between painful and pleasurable, “don’t say that~”

He can’t help but grin, licking a long stripe up your chest to your neck, and placing sloppy kisses on the skin. “You don’t like knowing that your big brothers want to fuck you? That you’ve got me wrapped around your little finger?” You mewl when he leaves a bite on your soft skin, before moving his hands to your ass and sliding one down between your legs. Your pussy’s already dripping despite your protest, has him slipping two fingertips inside and curling his hand up into you. He can’t fucking resist. It eats him up from the inside, mouth corners again twitching up. “I think you do like it. I think your pussy’s all-” His fingers fuck up into the soft walls of you, “-fucking-” again and again, leaving you panting, “-mine.” He probably shouldn’t find so much glee in it.

“Mhph,” your fingers dig into his shoulders, and your bottom lip is squeezed between your teeth, before you lean down to kiss him. Soft, almost sweet kisses, if not for the way your body grinds back into his palm and you whine softly like an animal in heat. It’s so fucking cute. It has his cock pulsing as he takes a breath, and looks at the sloppy way you leave his hand.

“Move up,” he quickly mumbles, kissing you back once before your thighs rise and he wipes his fingers on your slicked up mound, then slotting them into his mouth. He can’t even resist moaning out a rumbly, gravelly call of your name before he grabs two hands of your ass and helps you up. “Fuck, you’re so-” everything. If anyone had ever told him he’d be this weak over another person, he would’ve laughed. “Gonna fill you up, finally, f-finally gonna feel your little cunt squeeze around me.” His forehead rests on your chest for a second, placing a few lazy kisses on your tits, before he looks up. And though you look awfully flushed, embarrassed and heated- with teary eyes and puffy, bitten lips- you still run a hand through his hair and along his neck.

Then he lines up and moves you down onto him, and the first touch is all he needs to start feeling cotton fill up his brain. Your pussy takes him so well, sliding inch by excruciating inch onto his cock, and whimpering every second of it— you look spent well before he slides you down the last bit and your walls clench around him hard enough to knock the air out of him. He never thought you that small, but the way you struggle to take him, shaking on your legs and letting out every mewled thought, is so fucking hot. He loves you. Rin’s a sister fucker, and he’s never felt so fucking good in his life.

“Oh, fuck. You’re so tight- t-tiny little pussy… Holy-fuck, ugh—” You’re so warm, and soft, and he can’t help himself. He’s pushing you over onto your back before he can think of it, and places both hands besides you. Wide shoulders cover your view until you’re forced to hang on as he pulls back and fucks back in hard.

The slaps that fill the house as he pumps his thick, heavy cock into you are a melodic dream, making you whine and moan and dig your fingers and nails into his back. “Rin niichan, ah, ah, ahhh- I love you- I love you— ah, l-love you~” He fucks into you without abandon, letting his cock fuck right into the soft, spongey part of your walls and filling you right up. The rhythm he sets is hard and deep, and shakes the couch around enough to hear it groan. But he’s lost in the way your body curls, and you lift your chest to his, head thrown back— and almost choke on your teary whimpers. “F-feels- so gud- ah, I- I’m sorry. Mom, dad, I’m sorry. I love my— big brother!”

It’s like a beast that his balls clap against your ass and his one hand finds purchase between you two to toy with your nipples as he pants. His balls ache, with every wet gush of slick that collects between your two bodies it drives him further into you, fucking the head of his cock deeper and more precicely into you. He can see his cock slide in and out through your belly. It’s vile- in a way that makes everything feel blank, pleasurable and tingling down his spine. “Can you rub your clit for me,” he breathes, and kisses you, sucking on your tongue when you oblige with shaky hands. “Uhuh, such a good little sister. The best- b-best fucking hole, ugh-fuck.”

“Nii nii, I’m close.”

He’s burning through you, losing himself in the pleasure of filling you up all the way as your fingers flit over your puffy clit like he knows you like. He could do it for you if he wasn’t so desperately trying to keep himself from blowing his load, feeling the muscles in his legs, back and shoulders flex as he chases that peak. “Gonna cum? You gonna cum?” Your rapid nodding, paired with the grinding of your hips and your back curling off the couch is enough to have him kissing your pouty lips again, and keeping that same exact punishing rhythm even as your pussy squeezes him tight enough to keep him in you— grunting. You’d be able to kill him here and he’d go happy. “Oh, fuck— so good, so fucking good-”

He can feel you fall over the edge before he sees it, and despite the best of efforts, cums together with you as you cling so hard to his shoulders you’ll leave marks. You cum on his cock as hot ropes of white fill up your clenching pussy, dripping a mess out of your shared orgasms as he shudders on top of you and only stills completely when your moaning goes into a pitched little whine, and then a deep breath of his name. “Rin nii~” you pout, rubbing your palms along his sides a few times. It looks like you want to say something, but can’t find the words, and it warms him from the inside out. But he pulls back a little, cock still awfully hard inside you, and his hand cups your cheek.

“Can you go again? I wanna go again.” Then his lips land on yours, pressing loving kisses all over your face, cheeks, your nose, and you let out a little giggle. “And again, and again, and again.” For the first time in a while, Rin finds himself completely, utterly happy. And not a single thought is out of place.

+

Sae’s staring up at the ceiling of his fancy apartment as he starfishes the bed, and the slow rings have him rolling onto his side. The phone beeps, before going into voicemail again. And he frowns. Your name blinks back at him as he pulls back, and the soft tone of your message rings through the device.

“Hey, I- you don’t normally miss calls… Must be pretty busy over there, huh? This is the third voicemail I’m leaving within two days.” He rights himself to stare out the window of his pristine Barcelona apartment, and runs a hand through his bangs with a click of his tongue. “I uh- I shouldn’t have left without a word. I was- well, I don’t know. I miss- you, I guess.” His air gets a little stuck in his throat, and needs a couch to get going. “Anyways, call me back when you hear this. Niichan’s gonna be playing in the World cup. Tell Rin to get his ass into the lineup already.”

And then, after a long breath, “tell him he kinda owes me.”

FIN

Thank you so much for reading my series to the end, i have so much love for these three and i will miss it and them :'>>

All Rights Reserved © IWAASFAIRY 2023. Works are exclusive to this Tumblr.

Treat Me Like a Slut

━━ ༉⁩༊⁩ Pairings: Yuushi Totsumoto from lady k and the sick man and Toji Fushiguro from JJK x Shy!fem! Reader( crossover)

━━ ༉⁩༊⁩ Encapsulation: being shy can either lead you to a good time or bad time, you choose today

━━ ༉⁩༊⁩ Warnings: smut, double penetration in one hole, pussy eating, cunnilings, cum eating/drinking, pet names( doll, baby doll, princess, etc.), degradation and praising, competitive fuck, their personalities gonna switch on this one, oral( m/ f ), breeding kink, choking, impact play( a little), voyeurism, riding, throat fucking, squirting, talks about being shy and having anxiety( not explicit tho), two guess appearances, two dollars if y’all get it

━━ ༉⁩༊⁩ Word Count: 5.8k

18+ Fairies Allowed Only

Shyness is something every other person has had, including you. Shyness either comes from anxiety or trauma and this is all based on your perspective of it. You have been shy your entire life to the point where you couldn’t make friends properly, couldn’t even get a boyfriend without a push of a shoulder from your best friend you magically got the chance to have. Opposites attract you guessed because your best friend was the complete opposite of shy.

Enough about her, let’s talk about how because of isolation in your life can lead to shyness too, whether it’s from your mother or father being overprotective and forbidding you from making friends or going over your best friend’s house or because of what happened to you in the past—-you still don’t know how to perform full conversations with people you just met even in adult years.

So when you have two hot neighbors who are complete opposites, what do you do? They both moved in one after the other, exactly one week stretch if you’re really talking. It’s like it was planned but who knows. You watched both move in from your front window, making sure to hide yourself really well in case you get caught and have to introduce yourself prior to the time and setting you rehearsed in your head.

Seguir leyendo

I love tumblr bc i can be so pathetic and annoying on here and it’s fine

PAIRING. Atsumu Miya x Fem!Reader

GENRE. angst, fluff, possible smut(?), enemies to lovers

SERIES WARNINGS. (past) bully!atsumu, bullying, more tbd.

SYNOPSIS. High school was a living hell because of one man and one man only— Atsumu Miya. After graduating, you made it your goal to never cross paths with him again. It turns out the universe has different plans for you after you get a job as MSBY’s new manager.

CHAPTER LIST !

one.

two.

; tbd…

-> send an ask to be added to the taglist!

© all writings belongs to suhkusa 2023. do not repost or change.

getting really into penis lately

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.