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#be yourself always and fuck society's boxes
m4tthewsgf · 2 months
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Period pain
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Chris Sturniolo x fem reader
Summary: fluffy shit where Chris comforts his girl while she's experiencing period cramps and all that good shit
Warnings: language, blood
Author's Note: just got my period and I'm slowly dying HAHA (send me some chocolate pls). Anyway, sorry this is short lmao. Enjoy!!! You're enough!!!
---
You loved being a woman. You truly did. You loved putting together silly little outfits, wearing short skirts and crop tops and doing your makeup. It's a privilege being a girl. There's so much beauty in being one and the relationship that women have with each other is magical. There's something so special about it that no words can correctly describe it, but just the fact that we're women all together simply unites us.
However, there are a lot of things that came with being a woman that were ugly. Men who think they own anything and anyone, society's standards, sexism, patriarchy.... the list goes on. But periods? That was a goddamn curse.
You viewed women as superheroes. The fact that our bodies are able to create a whole new body with a heart and bones and brain from scratch is truly fascinating. Scary, but fascinating. That was our superpower. Yet, you and your boyfriend, Chris, were too young to start a family, even though you want to make him a father one day, and now your body is punishing you for that.
Your period pain was the worst. Your cramps felt like knives stabbing your guts, you had extreme migraines and headaches, back pain and on top of that, you were obviously bleeding out of your fucking uterus. Your mood swings were insane, to say the least, and so were your cravings.
Chris had been in a relationship with you for almost a year now so he knew what the deal was and he always tried his best to make you as comfortable as possible. You appreciated his willingness. It was adorable.
You were currently laying in your bed in a fetal position, hoping that the way you've folded your body would ease some of the pain. You have already texted your boyfriend and cancelled the plans you had made for this evening; he wanted to take you out to have a dinner date. You really wanted to go, the two of you haven't gone on a date in a while now, but you could barely breathe from the pain.
Just when you were about to put a movie on the laptop you had settled right next to you, you heard your front door open.
"Baby?" Said Chris from downstairs.
"Bedroom!" you yelled with as much energy you could. You were sure that dying would hurt less than that.
You heard your wooden stairs creak, indicating that Chris was making his way up to your room. You smiled at yourself.
"There's my angel!" He greeted you and planted a couple of kisses on your forehead and cheeks, making you giggle.
"How are you feeling baby?" he kneeled in front of you, his hands resting on the mattress and softly caressing you hair.
"Honestly if you stabbed me right now, it would hurt less" you mumbled against your pillow with half a smile.
"Well, I brought you some stuff!" Chris exclaimed before turning towards the two big bags he had placed on the floor once he entered the room.
"Obviously I got you your meds, you'll surely need em," he placed 3 boxes of Ibuprofen on your nightstand.
"Baby, I'm not downing the whole box, these will last me forever! You got 2 the previous month," you said with widened eyes.
"And? I'd rather know you have more than enough than not" he shrugged his shoulders.
"I also got you a heating pad, I read that heat helps a lot with the crumps," he pulled out a pink heating pad that was coated with a fuzzy layer of fabric.
"Then we have your favourite Yankee candles, the evergreen and caramel ones," he playfully raised his eyebrows at you, "I got a whole ass chocolate cake because I know you love that shit, some Reese's, chocolate bars..." he trailed off.
"Oh, I got some bath bombs too! Thought we'd try em out, they smell really good" he showed you two circular bath bombs, a blue and a purple one.
"And then obviously I have your pads and tampons, the Caesar's salad you go nuts about, your favourite pasta sauce...I think that's all" he finished. Even though your jaw was on the floor, it was only one of the bags he had brought with him.
"What's one the other bag?"
"Obviously some of my shirts and hoodies, jackass" he laughed at your cluelessness. You felt tears brim in your eyes. Your sensitive side came through on your period, you could cry with anything.
"Chris..." you smiled lovingly at him with a blurry vision.
"No need to cry ma, I'll take care of you m'kay?" he chuckled once more and kissed the side of your mouth.
"I love you" you softly spoke against his lips.
"I love you more baby," he kissed you again, "now, I'm gonna go run you a warm bath and then we're gonna eat whatever you want. I can get us food, whatever you're craving, or I can cook you your pasta... how does that sound?" he asked with a caring gaze.
"In n out sounds good right now if I'm being honest" you furrowed your eyebrows at him apologetically.
"Then in n out it is" Chris kissed your nose before making his way to your bathroom.
That night he didn't let you raise your hand. You needed water? He sprinted downstairs to get it. You had to use the bathroom? He escorted you, sometimes even carried you. His presence not only made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, something that always happened when he was around, but it also eased your pain. You couldn't be more thankful for him.
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tarjapearce · 9 months
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Bad Teachings Pt. 2
College Proffesor AU! Miguel x fem!Reader
Warning: Smut, slight fluff
Hope you like c: Pt 3
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It's been almost two years ever since you graduated college, two years since you last time saw Mr. O'Hara and kept in touch with him. To starters, you were pretty sure that making an advance on him after he had realigned your guts in his car and you gave him a blowjob in his classroom previous to the graduation ceremony, would only bring him trouble.
And now, a year and ten months later you had to 'integrate yourself to the proactive and laboral society' or so your parents always repeated. Thankfully enough, due your merits you had landed a not so shitty job in the branding consulting field.
The perks of your job were flexible schedules and some little luxuries like a place in a relatively good area, and finally, a car.
You often browsed through social media to check on your old class mates. Some got married, others moved from the country and others just stuck to themselves. Even though it was unlikely, you had searched Miguel, but he never showed up. Given the man's workaholic nature, it made sense for him to not have social media.
Wich kinda sucked since you had lost valuable contacts, including his. Not that you often talked though, a few how are yous here and there, and in the rare occasions, the conversations turned spicy and thigh clenching.
You went back to work.
-----
Adult life was often boring, in fact, that you were grocery shopping for the week had turned boring. The only thing sparking your interest was a new cereal brand on the top shelf, your fingers barely reaching them. You stopped however as a big hand hovered over you and grabbed the cereal like it was nothing.
"Thanks"
"Who said it was for you?"
A chill ran down your spine as you looked at none other than Miguel O'Hara cocking an eyebrow your way with a slight smirk.
"M-Mr. O'Hara! Hi. Uh... Hi."
"(Name)" He gave a brief acknowledge to you as he put some packaged-gourmet looking coffee on his cart.
"It's been a while. How do you do, sir?"
"Sir? What am I? Sixty?"
"At all, just-"
"Then fucking call me Miguel."
"It's really weird for me to say your name so casually."
He rolled his eyes and moved to get coffee filters.
"Thought you found a better chatting partner"
You stood there unable to comprehend his words right away, they weren't precisely tender, but they held a bit of a grudge. Finally your brain alighted with the idea of what he had meant.
"No, no. I was robbed actually, and lost a bunch of data, your contact included."
He stared your way, unwavering as you offered a small smile.
"Make it up, then... Unless you are seeing someone?"
"No!" You almost shouted and quieted down as some people in the back looked at your way.
"Sorry. I mean no. Im not seeing anyone. What about you?"
"Maybe you, at seven on saturday. "
Your cheeks burned at how casual he was acting. You had caged him in the teacher box for so long anything outside of it was odd, yet fascinating.
"Alright."
"Pásame tu teléfono*"
"What?"
"Give me your phone."
"Oh, right."
You handed your smartphone at him as he called his own number, registering both you and himself on each other's devices.
"I'll let you know if anything else shows up."
"Sure, I'll bring a gift."
He chuckled and shrugged
" If you want to. Not needed though. At 7 pm" ,
Nodding, you watched him leave, realizing he actually had put the cereal box in your cart.
-------
The rest of the week was torture, in every little chance you had, you checked your phone to see it was empty, you didn't even discuss where you'd meet or the dress code. You could surprise him, but the idea of being dressed inappropriately would just embarrass you.
Hi, sorry to just butt in. I wanna know though, do I need a dress code?
It took a long of 20 minutes for him to reply.
No
It was a simple yet not so mortifying reply. Even so you the urge of surprising him felt stronger. He was giving you, without realizing, the chance to make an impression on him.
-----
You went for a short, skin tight, black, thin strapped, heart shaped uppercut dress, black stilettos, natural looking makeup and a blown out hair. The stilettos made a show of your silky-feeling legs, you were all dolled up, quite literally.
Around 6:20 you got a text message from Miguel, he had shared his location to you. You had bought a good quality wine, something he might like. Or so you hoped. Giving a last look and some bit of  perfume, you went out the door and drove off to his place.
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You couldn't help but feel a nervous wreck as you approached the apartment building. Nothing too fancy, but a good looking place in a good neighbor, you entered the elevator, earning some glances your way.
Fourth floor, apartment 5.
You had arrived right on time, so you knocked the door as you straightened any lump in your dress. His steps approached and you gulped, finally he opened the door. His behemoth of frame covering up the entrance.
"Hey" You smiled nervously as he raked you from head to toes with his eyes, subtly.
"Too much?"
He smirked at your hesitation and let you in, closing the door after you. If it wasn't for a a couple of boxes scattered around the place would look even more amazing. It was only a place you could afford if you worked for big companies.
"Got us some wine. Hope you enjoy." He took the bottle of your hands and pulled you in for a deep kiss. Your sweet perfume only added a little spark to his senses.
"Pinche morra toda preciosa*" He mumbled as he slapped your ass gently and motioned you to follow him to the kitchen, bottle in wine on hand. Obeying, you followed and he opened the seat for you.
"Thanks, Miguel."
He wore a white button shirt, rolled up to the sleeves, revealing his strong forearms. Dress pants, black shoes and a belt. The belt only accentuated his upper frame, you gulped at the sight of him, serving two plates of pasta to then sprinkle some cheese on top.
He then returned and offered you a plate. You could only stare at him, awestruck. He sat next to you and opened the bottle of your wine
"What?"
"Nothing, just..." He poured two cups of wine and removed his glasses off his face. How could you have missed them?
"Nice place, great cook, good looking." He chuckled as you sipped the wine, "Can't believe someone like you invited me over."
"Someone like me? What's that supposed to mean?"
"Ah never mind me. Im just rambling. Are you still teaching?"
"Not really. Just a consultant now. Teaching is good, but it pays shit. Had to go back to my old job."
"And that is?" You finally ate a forkful of pasta. Humming in approval.
"Genetic Engineering."
"Well, shit. Is there anything else I should know?"
"You surely did dress up for this. Or for me?"
"Both." You nodded softly and he followed.
"Maybe next time I should be more specific with the dress code and make sure you aren't bringing your panties with you."
"Who says I am wearing them?"
His eyes turned darker as he took your hand to kiss it softly.
"You sure you wanna play that game, princesa?"
"Isn't that what you invited me over for?"
"Maybe. Maybe Not. Who knows" he smirked and took a hold of, your chin softly, "Eat up, you'll need it."
"What if I'm actually hungry for something else?"
"As much as I'd love to just rip that dress off, I want you to enjoy first, we've got a whole night ahead."
-----
For some reason your head was barely getting a grip on it. Miguel O'Hara, retired college professor, now a genetic engineer, was being an absolute gentleman with you even though he had stated his intentions also. You didn't know if to just run away out of cowardy at someone actually giving you a good non sexual time or hope you could outlast him during the night, or at least hope to endure.
You didn't know if he actually was just lonely since he asked about you, what did you do after college, how your robbing happened and the like. But of course, it could only last for so long.
He removed your shoes and kissed your ankles, and inner thighs, but stopped before he could reach to his favorite place to dive in his head
"Come here, sweetie." He pulled you off the couch and embraced snugly your body as his hands roamed your body with need. He groaned upon touching the bare skin of your ass.
"You smell so good" He kissed you once more as he hoisted you by your legs, to wrap them around him, all with his lips still devouring yours. He had you groaning with a roll of his hips as he pressed you against the wall. His mouth leaving you to assault the tender and sensitive flesh of your neck.
His clothed erection rubbed against your moistening folds. Friction making your whole nerves to react, your toes curled, your nipples perked as they rubbed against his chest. He smelled just like you remembered, a sweet and earthy tinge of cologne and a bit musky.
His hands grope your glutes as he kept grinding his hips against yours.
"Miguel" You whimpered his name and he pulled you by the neck to kiss you. Your hips rolled against his, not wasting up a single movement to feel everything. His hands held a handful of your ass while he softly bit your neck and clawed at the plumpness of your ass. It made you squirm and gasp as he rubbed harder.
Shallow breaths, pressure rising as your legs trapped him as closely as you could. His arms held you, preventing your fall, his lips were drowning any weak and shaky moan. He then placed you on the bed, but you immediately straddled him.
"Let me return the favor"
Smirking, your hands unbuckled his belt, he just watched you struggling to tug his pants off, before pulling them down, along the boxers, releasing his girth to you.
Licking your lips, you kneeled before him, and soon, dragged your tongue from the base to the flushed tip. A low growl rumbling in his chest. His hands immediately went to hold your hair, as his other one held the base of his shaft, to slowly and surely feeding his cock to you.
Your tongue swirled before taking the whole tip inside. His body shuddered
"Just like that, mi amor." His hips bucked, pushing an inch deeper into your mouth. You began bobbing your head up and down, feeding yourself after he slapped his tip against your flattened tongue. He then used both hands to hold your hair and head in place as he slowly moved upwards, his hips inside your warm and moist plush lips.
Streaks of pre cum, dribbled down your chin as he kept slowly fucking your mouth. Your jaw muscles relaxed enough to allow him an inch more, but just as you were about to deep throat him, he pulled himself out and pulled you by the hair for a kiss. It was sloppy, but passionate.
He removed the dress, revealing your naked body underneath. Then wiped your chin carefully
"Me encantas. Puta madre, no sabes lo que me haces." He mumbled to your ear huskily
"I don't know what you're saying" you giggled as he slapped your ass once more.
He turned you around and placed you in all fours. Admiring the smoothness and dips of your curves. He removed the remaining of his clothes and draped in the curtains of his room, leaving the place dimly lit.
He placed a hand on your hip and gave a few strokes to your slit with his tongue while cooing how good you tasted for him. Slowly he pushed a finger inside you, giving gentle strokes. Your hands held his sheets tighter. Soon another finger was added and you pushed your hips to make his fingers go deeper.
"Such an eager baby" he tapped your ass and chuckled, "Relax"
He brought his slicked fingers to his lips and soon, pumped himself a couple of times to slowly fill you, as you clenched around him.
"You ok?" You sighed and nodded shakily.
"It's been a while" his hands gently caressed your hips before his pushed in softly. Gasping at the intrusion, he started off slowly as he peppered your neck and cheeks in kisses, his hands massaged and squeezed with care, your breast.
"So so beautiful." he cooed before thrusting his hips a bit harder, seeing your mouth contort in pure lust. He kissed you once more, before holding your hips in place, with a swift roll, he pushed all the way in, in one go, earning him a sweet whimper from you.
The bed creaked as he slapped his hips, slowly ascending to a rougher pace. You wailing his name, as your cunt welcomed him with a wet squelch was everything he needed. There was something about you taking him so well that made him go feral.
Your face and chest were pushed flat against the cushioned surface, ass high for him, he separated a bit further your legs before his hips began slapping your flesh, mercilessly. And god you loved it.
Your body shook with every deep thrust he did, mouth agape, moaning shamelessly. Your hair was pulled, his nails dragged down your spine before his hands slapped your ass.
The pressure began bubbling in the lowest of your pit, he could tell by how your inner walls began clenching and gripping him. He then brought you closer, your back collided against his sturdy chest, giving him a tighter and deeper angle inside you.
His arms held you in place as you scratched and dug your nails on him.
"You're such a good girl, princesa. So so good" he cooed as he cupped your pussy and toyed with your clit in slow motions
The new sensation was only added to the many you were already experiencing. Breathless, so ever tight around him, as his arms secured you in place while being pounded with such abandonment. Smirking, he trusted harder and harder, but stopped just before you were thrown in the bliss searing abyss.
You whined in frustration, as you tried to find relief on your own.
"Uh uh. Don't be bad."
"Please..." You heaved and put his hands on your body
"Please what?"
"Let me fucking cum, Miguel."
"Jesus..." He groaned and kissed your neck before resuming his rutting inside you. The pressure simmered as you were pushed in the brink of breaking once more.
His hot breath against your flushed skin, his hands holding you with such possessiveness as he whispered sweet nothings to your ear, was the perfect combination for you to snap.
Shaking and nearly convulsing at the hot white pleasure that flooded your system.
"Miguel!" you spoke his name in between gritted teeth
"There you go" he cooed and smiled. Despite your insides having a death grip around him, your pleasure was his priority. You felt so good and small, it tugged on the dark strings on his self control.
Your skin was flushed, covered by a thin layer of sweat. He turned you around and pulled you by your legs towards him. A hand was placed in your abdomen as he prodded in two fingers, plunging them deep enough to graze at that already sensitive spot.
Your toes curled in as he moved them dexterously inside your already sopping folds.
Faster, harder, faster and harder. In that order.
"Oh my god" you sobbed as the sheets crumpled under your touch, toes curling in as a new orgasm was ripped out of you with a wet gush on his hand and forearm. He groaned as you squirted.
"That's the sexiest shit I've seen you doing, preciosa."
You could only moan in return as he filled you up once more
"Hold on tight" Your legs were hoisted on his arms as he gathered you, your arms went around his neck, anchoring to his broad shoulders and he lifted you up with ease. His arms locking on your back as you bounced on his cock.
"Fuck!" you gasped at the new depth his tip reached inside, and each thrust only dug him deeper inside you, feeling completely full of him.
"Cómo me encantas" he breathed through soft growls, that were drowned by the obscene, continuous and wet slapping of flesh. Unable to mumble any coherent word. You hid your face in the crook of his neck, eyes heavy with overstimulation as the merciless slapping continued and your body bounced.
You clung to his body as if your life depended on it. Your nails scratched the top of his  back, creating red welts on his skin that only urged him to a whole new level of roughness you hadn't expected. His groans drowned your pathetic cries as your body shook with each thrust.
"Too much" you croaked in between deep pants as the pressure scrapped you raw. Eyes far too lost for him to reach, his control over you unwavering. Pleasure slowly chipped away his body, you closed your eyes as a breathless mewl announced your brewing of a next peak.
He inhaled sharply as his hips stopped for a moment, to then resume as you were propped against the wall. His muscles flexed as he fucked you in the way he knew you loved it, too pussy drunk to stop.
Your peak was shattering, almost splitting your mind in two, as you gushed all over his cock and lower abdomen, supple thighs squeezing his waist. He hissed at your clawing, as he spurted inside. Painting your walls white and hot.
"Mine" he growled. There was an acute whimper on his behalf as he tried to keep standing as his load was out inside you. He rushed to the bed and laid you on it.
His chest swelled in pride as it heaved.
"Such a good girl." He laid next to you, your head cradled closer, just like your body, he made one of your thighs to hook on his waist as he slowly entered you one more time.
You stirred and his arm snaked around your torso. He shushed you as he delivered slow strokes with his cock inside you. Your hands rested on his chest and your head on his arm, using it as a pillow.
"Toda para mí" He pushed his hips in languid, slow strokes, pulling soft mewls out your limp body. Your plush folds welcomed him with a soft suckling motion as he pushed all his seeping cum back in.
"I-I can't" you breathed as his hand pressed you closer
"Of course you can, corazón. One more."
"Miguel" you whimpered in despair. Not that you could move anyways, his lips kissed your temple as he rode you to bliss one more time.
----
You woke up in Miguel's bed, tangled up in sheets, sore and thirsty. Your phone buzzed with some texts from work. You stood and covered up in one of the sheets. The smell of food lingered in the air as your stomach grumbled in protest
"Miguel?"
"C'mon." he motioned you from the kitchen, you followed and sat on the table. He wore nothing but some sweatpants and his slippers
"Buenos días, guapa."
"Morning?" you smiled softly at your best guess of what he just said
"Sorry for... you know, uh, staying."
"It's fine. I was counting on it, anyways."
He served you a bit of a hearty looking meal. Chilaquiles with two fried eggs on top .
"Thank you."
He sat next to you and ate. You followed. Eating was quiet, but comfortable enough.
"I'll do the dishes" you stood and picked up after the both. He smiled softly, almost contemplating you from behind
"You should bring extra clothes next time."
Next time
"Might do, yeah." your cheeks flared up and you finished cleaning and went to his room, your clothes had been gathered on a chair, neatly.
"Can I use your bathroom?"
"Sure."
You quickly showered and changed, Miguel just watched you from afar.
"I shall go then."
"What? No kiss goodbye? So cold." He feigned hurt and you couldn't help but laugh. Then you kissed his cheek.
"Nah. Despídete bien." He pulled you closer for a deep kiss and smirked once you were at the door.
"Thank you, for everything. It was wonderful."
"Of course it was." he slapped your butt as you went out the door.
"Mejor vete antes de que me arrepienta."
"What?"
"Bye bye, preciosa."
You pursed your lips and shook your head softly, he just chuckled and you left. Your kiss still lingering in the air.
-------
*Pinche morra toda preciosa - Such a fucking gorgeous girl.
*Me encantas. Puta madre, no sabes lo que me haces -I love it. Holy shit, you don't know what you do to me.
*Cómo me encantas - God, I love you. (Mind you, this love is not the same as love love.)
*Toda para mí - All for me.
*Buenos días, guapa - Good morning, gorgeous
*Despídete bien - Say goodbye properly
*"Mejor vete antes de que me arrepienta - You better go before I regret it.
Taglist: <3
@averagefloydlover @mouse-teagreat @4rlybm @cosmoscoffeee @wanderlustingcastaway @allysunny @noblesavagex @miggyoharaswife
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astroboots · 8 months
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Punch-Out Love
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Artwork by @guruan
FIGHT NIGHT
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader
Summary: You're lucky enough to score ring-side seats at a boxing match on Friday night. Getting the best view in the house of boxing champion: Miguel O'Hara.
Word count: 1,500
Next Chapter
Spiderverse Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist 
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You know fuck all about boxing.
About the only thing you know about the sport was from the glimpses you caught watching scratched up old recordings of Muhammed Ali fights on the boxy mini-tv of your old childhood friend's house.
It always seemed barbaric. The practice of watching two human beings beat the shit out of each other for spectator's entertainment. It seems like something that was better left in the Ancient Roman times. Have we all human beings as a society, really not come further some 2,000 years later?
Your bestie used to get mad at you for this. Constantly defending the sport from your criticism, because (according to him) it's not just about smashing each other's faces in. Supposedly, there's an art to the sport. Boxers are taught to respect their opponents and adhere to the principles of good sportsmanship. It takes great mental discipline, dedicated work and years of hard and punishing training to master boxing.
You never saw any of that in the matches he showed you. All you saw were two men needlessly being hurt, sustaining brain damage for rich people's enjoyment.
Then again, he was more than a little bit biased, considering it was his dream to go pro one day. Tall and gangly, with his scrawny antelope legs, thick-rimmed glasses and big-ass braces, he looked like he couldn't punch his way out of a paper bag, much less another person. You never understood how exactly he thought he was going to make it as a boxer.
But you never found it in you to burst his unrealistic bubble when he used to point at the screen excitedly, drawing your attention to Ali's footwork and the artistry in it. 
"It's like he's dancing," he used to say.
Except dancing is done with swelling music in the background. In dancing you often have a partner. It's an embrace. It's gentle and kind.
Boxing... was not that.
So you don't know how you managed to find yourself in the ringside seats of a local boxing match on a Friday evening, staring up at the boxing ring with the glaring ring lights shining into your eyes.
"Aren't these seats amazing?" Jess shouts excitedly over the familiar lyrics of ‘We Will Rock You' being belted out by Freddy Mercury on the loudspeaker.
You smile, and nod, because boxing-fan or not, she's right, these are some amazing seats. And considering you didn't have to pay a dime for them, personal aversions aside, you're never going to turn down free stuff.
Jess' husband tested positive for covid at the last minute, and you're the only one in your social circle that is anti-social and single enough to not have any plans on a Friday evening.
On the monitors above you, the menacing headshots of the two fighters swish into view.
"The first guy is an old reigning champ," she explains to you, as she leans in, shouting into your eardrums (and yet you can still barely make out what she's saying over the music). "The challenger is some new kid on the block. Has an amazing track record. Zero losses in the season. He's something else."
You look up at the gigantic screen, at the sharp cut cheeks, strong thick brows and the intense pitched brown eyes staring down at you.
Angry looking dude.
...Handsome too.
With a face like that, surely he could've gone into other careers. Calvin Klein model, movie star, or a news anchor. You wonder what makes a guy voluntarily have his face bashed in for money as a career.
"Ladies and gentlemen," a loud booming voice announces from the stage.
You jump in your seat from the suddenness, as you see a bald and overly formal dressed announcer in the middle of the ring. 
"Welcome to the electrifying boxing showdown of the century! Are you ready to witness some knockout action tonight?"
The crowd around you cheers with a pandemonium of shouting and whistling.
"Introducing our first fighter, a true hometown hero! With an impressive record of 20 wins, 15 by knockout, and only 2 losses, standing at 6'3 feet, and weighing in at 340 pounds of determination and strength, give it up for ‘the Knockout King’ Bobby Kane!"
You watch as the reigning champion walks down the tunnel to the midst of adoring cheers as he waves and gestures at the crowd like royalty.
Every inch the king that he is nicknamed, he jumps over the rope and stands tall and proud over the ring.
The man is huge, bulging with almost grotesque muscles. He's so large that you almost expect each of his steps to send a reverberation throughout the hall, as if this was Jurassic Park and he's a T-Rex.
"Now, entering the ring with the confidence of a warrior, fighting out of the red corner, with 15 wins, 10 by knockout, and no losses, standing at an astounding 6 feet 9 inches, and weighing in at 310 pounds of raw power, let's hear it for tonight's challenger, ‘Steel Jaw’ Miguel O'Hara!"
Wait what? You do a double take at the announcement. Six foot nine?!?! What kind of giant is that?
From the far corner of the hall, you see his silhouette emerge, and your eyes go wide at the sight of him. Tall doesn't even begin to describe him. 
There's a 200 year oak tree at Central Park, and with the shadow this man casts, you think their height must be nearly comparable. If you thought the Knockout King was tall, the "King" is practically tiny compared to this challenger.
You watch, as the man with cheeks so sharp they mind as well be blades (and god never has a nickname made more sense to you) as he strides towards the stage. He reaches the rope and barely even has to climb over it with how tall he is.
He's leaner than his predecessor. Every inch of him is cut muscles and tanned gorgeous skin as he stands in front of you. His presence is electric. The air crackles where he stands, towering over the stage.
You swear that his towering height blocks out the ring lights with it, casting the stage in the darkness of his tall shadow.
Somehow, he's even prettier in person compared to the still image of him blown up and plastered on the big screen. Soft brown curls and pouty lips. You don't understand in what world a man like that is a professional fighter.
From this distance, with the way that the light refracts from his irises, his eyes almost glow with a scarlet red that takes your breath away as you look up at him and meet his eyes.
If you didn't know better, you'd think he was staring at you.
The bell rings out, but he's not looking away. The intensity you find there is enough to make you swallow your tongue. Your face prickles with heat and for several long moments you forget to breathe, until the air seems to thin around you and your vision starts to swim.
Then he turns to face his opponent.
You're not quite sure where to look. There's so much happening at once. For his size, Miguel O'Hara is surprisingly deft on his feet. His footwork is somehow both unpredictable yet intentional all at once.
The King throws a strong punch, as he lunges forward, after his tall opponent. But O'Hara dodges them seemingly without effort. It's followed by punches so quick, the movements blur together.
Strike after strike. The King is giving it his all. But none of it properly connects. With every failed hit, you can see him growing increasingly more frustrated.
Your heart is in your lungs, and despite how close you are to the stage, you almost want to get up from your seat for a closer look.
Safe as you are behind the ropes, adrenaline rushes through your veins with a fury. You can't recall the last time you felt this ecstatic about... well, anything.
With each punch O’Hara dodges, you feel yourself lurch back in your seat, trying to dodge the punch with him.
It's titillating.
Exciting.
O'Hara's movements are precise and honed with intention despite the ferocity in his movements. Each one is measured and intricate and if you didn't know any better you'd almost call it graceful.
You think back to those moments in your childhood friend's home, and his excited words buzz in your ears now. For the first time ever you finally understand what he had meant.
It is like a dance.
Before you, O’Hara's eyes cross over in your direction and for a split of a second, you swear your eyes connect again. His gaze holds you there, pinned to your seat, and excitement shoots through the entirety of your spine until you feel lightheaded from the attention.
Then he finally steps forward, no longer evading.
It's brutal and efficient.
An uppercut that connects cleanly to his opponent's jaw.
Spit and blood flies out from the man's mouth, the flabby flesh of his cheek vibrating from the impact as he lands on the floor with an ear-shattering thud.
Then the guy is out.
Barely even eight minutes in. 
There's a stunned and shocked silence. The crowd seems both enthralled and disappointed at how fast it all went. On the ring floor, you can practically see the circle of cartoon birds flying above the defeated King's head.
You may not know anything about boxing, but you know that this man is not getting up anytime soon, no matter how far the referee counts.
Tearing your eyes away from the motionless body splayed out on the ground elevated above you, you can see the victor towering menacingly over the body.
But Miguel O'Hara isn't even looking at his defeated opponent
No, his eyes are staring straight into the sea of awestruck spectators. Except he’s not looking at them.
He's looking at you.
~ Next.
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Author's note: What's that you say? CiCi wtf are you doing starting another series when you already got one going on? ... Idek man. But I hope you guys enjoy it, cause I had a blast writing it, smut will ensue in later chapters I promise!
Dedications and Credits: Buckle up it's gonna be a big one!
Firstly to @guruan when I say she's my muse THIS IS WHAT I MEAN! Look at that beautiful artwork. I am drooling into my panties. I am crying between my legs. I am so damn horny! I cannot thank this amazingly talented genius enough. Please please give this wonderful brilliant human your love by following her, and drop by her KO-FI SHOP cause the art this woman bless us with is UN-fucking-REAL
Then to @djarinsbeskar who put this idea into my head. In my mind she is the OG Boxer AU champion and mastermind. If you are in the mood for more boxing content, she has a wonderful, devastatingly sexy series Boxer!Din AU that is just woof woof bark bark.
2K notes · View notes
zoros-sheath · 6 months
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Say Something Loving
2023 Monster Fucktober October 9th
❀ Automaton Killer x F!Reader ❀
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❀ N.SFW ❀ 5.7k Words ❀ ❀ Monster Boyfriend AU ❀ ❀ 2023 Monster Fucktober Masterlist
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❀ Author's Note: jfdjfasfakfjasf, I feel like I have been falling behind, but all of these one shots are averaging 3,500 to 5,000+ words. Which, if I am honest, I am proud of. I have never written more in my life, and it makes me feel good. Even my partner is proud of me.
Also, I really need to start shouting out my bestie, @standfucker, more. Y'all need to appreciate their contribution as my editor. Like, fucking damn. I would be so lost without them. Please read their work, it is touching and wonderful and I love everything they make.
Now onto KILLER ROBOTS FROM SPACE. Not really, but for a thing I made up, that kinda applies, and it's funny to say.
Kureha was my favorite part of writing this. Holy shit, she was amazing. Idk, expect her cameos more in the future for stories.
She is a menace to society.
Dr. Kureha for president.
PLEASE READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING
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❀ When you receive your latest care package from home, you are more than surprised to find a man inside. Much to your bewilderment, the man in question was somehow granted a second life by your grandmother, and is more than willing to assist you with your every need.
❀ CW: blindfold, fingering, vibrating dick, Dr. Kureha being a thoughtful but slightly invasive grandmother, she is a menace to society, Dr. Kureha for president.
❀ Listen to the Playlist: ❀ Spotify ❀ YouTube ❀
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This could not be real.
Your grandmother sent you a man in the mail.
A very naked man in the mail.
You paced the kitchen of your humble little house deep in the silent wood. The gigantic pine wood box sat in the living room, you glanced at it every time you passed the archway that separated the spaces. The man was not moving, and you needed answers.
Per tradition in your long family line of witches, wizards, sorcerers, mages, and the like, you had set yourself up in isolation for the next three years to practice your magic. You were supposed to spend the time reflecting on your work and to help you choose your path from the many different known disciplines you would like to follow. It had only been a few weeks, and most of what you could think of was how much you missed the internet.
While you were only allowed one phone call a month to family to check in and let them know you were alive, you were granted calls in case of emergencies. You felt this warranted an emergency, hoping your grandmother would answer, very concerned for the how or why there was a person in the box. He had no pulse, and had a strange mask covering his head.
“Dr. Kureha speaking.”
Your grandmother answered at least, and you choked on your words before you could even speak. After a brief moment, you blurted out loudly into the receiver, “GRANNY! WHAT THE FUCK!?”
Her laughter met you from the other end, “Oh good, you got my care package.”
“Care package? CARE PACKAGE?!” Though you were alone in the middle of the woods save for the man or whatever he was in the box, you still whispered your next statement, “You sent me a MAN in the mail!”
“And you wouldn’t believe the customs charges and overnight fees. Had to get ‘im to ya before the moon changed out of phase. Other wise you’d have to wait two months, and he’d really start stinkin’ up the place.”
You rolled your eyes, throwing your arms up, “Oh, thanks for that, Gran. Now what the hell am I supposed to do with him!?”
“Kiss ‘im.”
Again, you were flabbergasted beyond words, your only responses being stutters and sputters as you rubbed your forehead.
“Yeah, give ‘im a good ol’ smooch. Finishes the spell and will wake the bastard right up.” Your grandmother stated it as if it were the most obvious answer in the world, “He’ll keep you good company while you’re on your training.”
“I just… Hell’s Bells, what is he even? Did you send me a golem?”
“Don’t be rude, Sprout!” Granny Kureha had always called you such, “We do not culturally appropriate in this family. He’s an Automaton. He can help with the cleaning and cooking while you focus on your work.”
You looked at your phone, then to the man in the box, “You… sent me an overly complicated roomba?”
“Automaton.” Your grandmother corrected, “I used various machine parts, different types of magic ores and organic material, slapped in a soul, and well, boom. One Automaton ready for my grandbaby.”
“So you sent me a sentient overly complicated roomba.” Your eyes trailed over his body, well-built with almost superhero level of musculature, and well-endowed in other areas. Picking up a blanket from your favorite reading chair, you threw it over his lower half, finding yourself distracted by his size even in a flaccid state. “Why did you put a soul in a roomba?”
Your grandmother huffed loudly, “He’s not—!” then let out a frustrated grumble, “Listen, Sprout. An Automaton is technically a form of necromancy,” Kureha was one of the few members in your family who went down the necromatic path, and it was only just a little weird now that you knew it had a soul, “You create a form and shape for a willing soul to inhabit it. So long as you have the correct materials to accompany it, the magic forms a body similar to what the soul had around their time of death. Lucky for you, Killer was a stud.”
Sighing heavily, you tried hard to not allow the heat in your face to be heard in you voice, scratching your head, “What do you mean ‘Killer’?”
“That’s his name,” she laughed, “At least that’s what he remembers. Not many souls always completely remember their names, but they remember aspects of their lives. He cooked and cleaned and was built like an ox, so that was good enough for me.”
Rubbing your face, you knelt down next to the pine wood box, almost feeling like it was a casket. Granted, he was packed in packing peanuts like an expensive electronic, “Okay, fine. Whatever. Is there a manual for this thing or what?”
“Sprout, you wound me. Do you really think I would send you such a delicate and handsome piece of machinery without instructions?”
You sighed loudly yet again, your voice flat and monotone as it was a phrase you had said many times in your life, “No, Granny Kureha, you wouldn’t…” and waited for the other shoe to drop.
“It’s under his ass.”
There it was.
Granny Kureha knew you wouldn’t be able to lift him, and would have to wake him up via the kiss in order to get at the instructions. Your head thumped against the box, letting out a frustrated groan that only caused your grandmother to laugh loudly again, “Just kiss him before nightfall. All of his essentials are underneath him. Don’t remove the mask for at leastfour months. Now, I’m still in the middle of surgery, so I gotta go. This isn’t an emergency call, so you are out of calls for the month. We’ll hear from you later. Love you, kisses!”
“Wait, Gran! How am I supposed to—”
You heard the line disconnect, leaving you there in utter disbelief. Granny Kureha had a tendency to do that. Looking at your phone, you contemplated calling her back anyway, rules be damned. However, you knew it would be futile, she’d never answer the phone again, and no one else in the family would even know what to do. Even if they did ask her, she’d laugh in their faces.
“Well, now what?”
Gazing back blankly at the the man in the box, you leaned your cheek on your fist, breathing out in a way that rattled your lips, “So, Killer… I have to kiss you, huh? How am I supposed to do that if we can’t take your helmet off and I have to do it before the sun goes down?” You felt a little silly speaking to the technically dead man. Was he even dead? Granny Kureha never specified it had to be on the lips, and you looked over his naked body that was only covered by your throw. What did he even feel like?
Reaching into the box, you closed your eyes and touched his chest, withdrawing your hand quickly once it made contact. As you peeked out of one eye, you were surprised at the fact he felt like normal human skin, opening your eyes and looking at him as you touched his chest again. It was no different than touching someone who was asleep, and you poked him a few times before tapping your fingers on him, mildly entertained by the sound and feeling of his relaxed muscles. You were alone, and started to tap his chest like bongos, since you were a little starved for entertainment. Besides, when would you ever get to do it ever again?
His chest started to turn red, you looked at it and winced slightly, “Sorry… I… should…” You gave it one more slap, biting your lip just a bit in your brief moment of insanity, “Yeah, I should stop…”
Looking him over, you started to nudge and prod at him from the waist up, trying to figure out how to move him if possible. Just as you thought, his muscles or whatever he was made out of were far too heavy for you to lift on your own. You were lucky to lift his arms and head at all.
Heaving a heavy sigh, you flopped back down next to the box, holding his large hand in yours after trying fruitlessly to pull him out of the box for the umpteenth time, “Alright, alright. I quit. Whatever… Just… UGH!” Throwing your arms up, you had let go of his limp hand, just leaving it there hanging over the side of the box. Staring at his large fingers, you picked his hand up again, holding your own against it. Were he alive and moving, he could easily curl his fingers over yours, dwarfing your hands with the sheer size of his.
The strange mask on the man covered his face and ears, leaving only a small tuft of what you assumed was a beard or goatee sticking out—some sort of facial hair for sure. The amount of hair coming off the back of the mask made it look like he was sleeping on a bed of his own hair, and you really wanted to brush it. First, you would have to wake him.
“Alright, sleeping beauty… here goes nothing.”
Holding up his index finger, you pressed it to your lips, closing your eyes softly this time as if you were leaning in to kiss him on the cheek or lips. When you opened your eyes again, he had not moved. You gave his finger another peck, then after a few more moments, one to his knuckles. He still did not move, let alone breathe. Sighing deeply, your shoulders drooped, “I knew this was too good to be true…”
Suddenly, you noticed his skin turning red, particularly around his neck going up into his mask. You tilted your head, it being the first sign of life in him at all. Leaning in, you tried to listen for breathing.
“Um, hello?”
“Hi.”
You shrieked, letting go of his hand and backing away, “Hell’s bells! You’re alive?!”
His voice sounded strained, “I think so…? I forget what I’m supposed to do. My chest hurts.” You glanced at his pecs that you were playing like bongos not long ago, “It is like… burning.”
“Burning?” You moved back to the edge of the box, looking at him and placing your hand against him, wondering if maybe he was heating up. His skin did feel warmer than before, but not enough to be concerning. It also felt like he had a heart beat, but it was quickly slowing. What you could not feel was the rising and falling of his lungs taking in air, “Are… aren’t you supposed to breathe? I really know nothing of what is supposed to happen.”
“Breathe?” his head moved toward you, causing you to jump again. You thought you saw a hint of a blue eye in one of the holes of his mask, “Breathe… that… that sounds normal. I’ve been dead for… I think she said 30 years? You forget a lot of living when you’re dead.”
Your eyes popped out of your head, pressing on his chest, “Oh my god, yes! Breathing! Breath! Taking air in and out of your lungs! Do that!” The fear that your Automaton could die when you just managed to power him up was not something you were expecting, but leave it to Granny Kureha to be vague. Taking in a deep breath yourself, you then blew it out of your mouth, taking in another one while making an overly exaggerated motion to try and get him to remember.
It took a few moments for him to catch up, finally taking in a very deep breath to the point he began coughing and hacking, sitting up in the process. You reached out to pat his back, feeling how soft and fluffy his long hair was and also brushing off packing peanuts in the process. When his coughing calmed and his breathing regulated, you watched as he then stood up with a groan, looking at his hands and body as the blanket fell from him. The man began laughing oddly, but you were too distracted as you stared at his ass. That perfect round ass, like an apple you wanted to take a bite out of. Good grief, half the reason you decided to take your journey now in life was because you wanted to escape your dismal dating life, and you were literally face to face with a living god that was actually created to serve you.
You must have short circuited at the thought, not realizing he had walked out of the box and was wiggling every part of his body he could, partially to shake off the styrofoam bits sticking to him. When he tugged on his cock a moment, you covered your eyes, “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Decency, dude! Just because you’ve been dead doesn’t mean you can just start touching yourself!”
He laughed, holding his hands up as he faced you, “Sorry, I’ve not really been able to touch anything for so long. Just… to feel, and move, and breathe! Fuck, to be alive!” the man threw his arms up, and you scurried to pick the blanket back up and hold it around his waist, averting your eyes, “Do you know what it’s like!?”
“Possibly, I do it every day,” you worked quickly to wrap the blanket around his waist and tie it properly in place, “There we go. Much better.”
Standing back up to face him, you were looking directly at his chest at first, then slowly raised your head up to look into his mask. You could barely see his blue eyes glittering with life through the holes, mostly because it was hard for light to get into them. He placed one of his hands on his hip, as he held out his other hand in greeting, “Hi, I’m Killer. You must be Y/N. Your Gran told me a lot about you.”
“She—she did?” Your voice cracked as you shook his hand, his dwarfing yours yet again, but with a gentle hold as he gave it a small shake. It surprised you that he had such control over his strength so quickly, but it was a bigger shock that he knew of you already, “She talked about me?”
“Oh yeah, it was a vigorous screening process to be your helper,” Killer let go of your hand, putting it on his hip as he stood there, looking around the space and then letting out a whistle, “You got a nice place here. Pretty simple to take care of, lots of reading. I can dig it.”
Your living room was modest and cozy, consisting of a sofa with two chairs facing a coffee table in front of a large stucco fireplace. There were built-in book shelves stuffed to the brim all around the room, and paintings and framed photos filling in any space that wasn’t a shelf. There was a ladder that led to a lofted bedroom above the kitchen, a little bathroom with a large tub just off the side of the kitchen, and you also kept fresh flowers from the garden in various vases around the room. It was only you (or at least it was supposed to be only you), so when you designed it with your magic, you did not require a lot of space. Now there was this ginormous man living with you, and you were unsure if he would even be able to sleep on the couch.
“Yeah, um… what exactly did Granny Kureha say to you? Not gonna lie,” you looked back to the box, remembering his “instruction manual” and belongings were underneath him, “You were not mentioned to me at all, and was quite a shock opening the box.”
Killer turned back on his heels, facing you and sounding concerned, “She didn’t mention me?” and pointed to himself. His broad shoulders drooped, and only now that he was up, moving, and covered, did you realize there was discoloration on his left arm over his shoulder. He patted the back of his mask, watching you as you started tossing about the packing peanuts, looking for his stuff and the manual. All you found were a pair of slides, work boots, and a USB drive, “Oh! My shoes! Thanks.”
Taking the footwear from you, Killer dropped the slides to the ground, slipping his feet into them and looking at his them as he wiggled his toes, “Ah, much better. Your floor was cold.”
You eyed him over briefly, nice body or not, he was turning out to be a rather strange man. Reaching more into the box, you tossed everything else out, frantically looking for what you could, “Seriously? This is it? There’s nothing else?”
He tilted his head, “What do you mean? She asked me what I would need once here, and I figured you wouldn’t have shoes for a big guy like me, and she said I could only have two things.”
Smacking your forehead, you huffed loudly. Your grandmother’s laughter echoed in the back of your mind, as if she planned to leave you dealing with a naked man in your house during your training. That was just the sort of humor she had, everything at other people’s expense. Especially since it’s not like you would just have clothes for a man his size, either, let alone any men’s clothing at all.
You folded your hands in front of your face, attempting to calm yourself with a deep breath in, “Okay, so you have two sets of shoes, your name’s Killer, and you interviewed for the position to be my helper. Is there anything else I am missing?”
Killer nodded, holding his work boots under one arm and gesturing as he spoke with the other, “Well, I was a chef before I died, and your Gran showed a bunch of us spirits your picture. It was a mad dash after that. Not just to be alive again, but I mean… She said you were lonely and all. I thought—”
“Granny is now pimping me out to the undead, Hell’s Bells…” You started to rub your temples.
“—You could use a friend.”
“Wait.” You looked to him, fingers still pressing into your head a bit, “You want to be my friend?”
The man shrugged, a chuckle escaping from under his mask, “Why not? I’ve got a second chance at life. What do you say? Friends?” He held out his hand to you again, a smile to his voice, but it was hard to tell under that mask. You stared at his hand a moment, with how many times you had already touched it this evening, it should not have been such a strange thing to see by now.
“What the heck then,” you shook his hand a second time, “Friends.”
And that was how you and Killer began your cohabitation.
The USB drive had the manual and videos for the laptop you brought with you that Granny Kureha had put together. Most of it was vague and her mostly talking about the theory of spirit magic. If you didn’t know any better, you were almost thinking she was trying to lead you down the necromatic path like she did. What information you did manage to scrape from it was about the mask he wore. It was the anchor that held his soul in place, and that it would take up to four months or more before it could be removed. This allowed the soul to attune and attach to the new vessel.
There was also a section in there about the different functions that Killer would now have, including but not limited to a wifi connection (THANK THE HEAVENS), access to an extensive memory bank of recipes, building schematics, various encyclopedias, news reports, and, for whatever reason, the Kama Sutra. Killer laughed, but you hid your face, especially as you had to hear your grandmother’s voice say the words “His cock heats up and vibrates, here’s how…”
Despite the embarrassment, Killer did turn out to be a big help for you around the house, especially with cooking and cleaning. You had a degree in horticulture and he was a quick study for helping you in the garden, which became another boon. Once you were finally able to get clothes sent that fit him properly, things were a lot easier, but he still preferred to walk around and work shirtless if he could. While you had used magic to build the house, it was easier for Killer to make repairs manually, so you could conserve your energy for studies and practice; he was always considerate of your needs like that.
He built his own, simple room off the other side of the living room, and was always up before you were, making breakfast. You often wondered if he actually slept, but a strange noise woke you up once in the middle of the night that turned out to be him snoring. For a man who was happy to have a second chance at life, he sure as hell slept like the dead, as you were unable to wake him to stop his incessant noises.
The summer started to fly by in a flash, full of laughter and glee. While he did his best to keep things friendly, you couldn’t help the butterflies in your stomach at the sound of his chuckle while reading to himself, the gentle brush of his fingers against your cheek when there was something on your face, or even the way he would help you pick flowers from the garden to keep in the house.
As fall arrived and the harvest came to its peak, you were both gathering vegetables from the garden for canning when you heard a large and heavy thud. Killer was far away from you, and you thought that maybe an arm had fallen off or something. You ran to him, calling for him over and over, only to find him bent over on the ground. Fearing the worse, you rushed to his side, “Killer? Killer, are you alright?”
Breathing heavily, he slowly turned to look at you, realizing you had been looking at the back of his head and not the back of his mask. Blue eyes brighter than the sky stared back at you, almost fearful, then he blocked the light with his hand, “I… I don’t know what happened,” he panted, “I was just walking, and suddenly it fell off. Am I dying again?”
“I… I don’t know?” you helped Killer to his feet, “Granny’s instructions said that it could be removed at 4 months, but she never mentioned anything about this.” Looking down, you nudged the mask with your foot, now in two pieces on the ground, “Just… fell off like an apple from a tree, huh?”
“Yeah, I guess. Didn’t realize how heavy it was.”
Turning to look at each other, you saw how his hair had stuck so much to his face, it had no where else to go after a few months, after all. You were wondering how it even managed to grow at all, seeing how how he was technically not human and had only been able to eat all of his meals through a straw or in noodle form (Killer loved noodles). Attempting to brush it out of his eyes, you giggled a bit, “Maybe we should get all of this taken care of after we get this hair out of your face.”
Killer agreed, gathering up what you had both collected so far and going to start the arduous task of dealing with his hair. There was so much of it, and it tangled easily. You had him do a lot of washing and conditioning treatments first and then sat him down as you brushed and detangled his hair lovingly. He also helped you with your hair routine, so it was a nice trade off. That, and his hair was silky and soft, and any excuse you could have to touch it was perfect, turning him into putty in your hands.
After a while, he stopped you playing with his hair, much to your dismay. Killer went back into the bathroom, doing his best on his own to cut his bangs and clean up his beard to hopefully look less like a wild man. You started to switch out the flowers, hearing him come out of the bathroom and instantly dropping the vase when he came out. It was already hard enough to hide your attraction to Killer, now it would be near impossible since you could see his face—that beautiful, flawless, gorgeous angelic face touched by the heavens.
As you stood there in awe, you didn’t realize he was just standing there and staring back at you. To distract yourself, you quickly bent down to pick up the glass from the vase and the discarded flowers. You thought you were speaking cohesively, but instead you were just mumbling nonsense at different frequencies of volume and frantically picking up everything in front of you, cutting your hand.
“Y/N!” Killer rushed to your side, pulling you away from the broken glass and holding up your palm. He pressed the towel from around his neck against your hand to stop the bleeding, “Are you okay?”
“Y-yeah. You startled me, that’s all.”
He chuckled, “Guess my face is that alarming, huh?”
One could say that. The next few days were spent either avoiding direct eye contact or just straight-up staring. It made it very hard to continue with your work, or even your basic duties around the house. You finally spent a whole day in bed, afraid that if you continued to go into his presence at all you would go completely mad. Killer was also concerned, constantly climbing up the ladder to check on you.
You waited until nightfall when you finally heard Killer’s snoring. Since you wouldn’t allow Killer to bring you anything, your stomach growled loudly. Sitting up quietly, you resolved to yourself that you would sneak downstairs for a quick bite to eat and some alone time in the shower. Hopefully it would be enough to break this feeling, grant you back some clarity instead of feeling as though you were getting wet just looking at his face.
However, strong arms wrapped around you from behind in bed, stopping you from standing. With a loud gasp, you attempted to turn around to face Killer, but he hugged you even tighter, not letting you move, “Don’t. Don’t look at me if it hurts you so much,” he put his face against your shoulder, “I know my face is ugly, but—”
“WHO THE FUCK SAID THAT!?”
The silence after your outburst was enough for you to hear birds disturbed from their sleep, flying off in the middle of the night. For once, Killer didn’t laugh, “Why else would you be so shocked to look at me? To then go so far as to avoid looking at me? You wouldn’t even get out of bed today, Y/N.” You couldn’t swallow down the lump now formed in your throat, unaware that your actions were making Killer doubt himself as a person. Opening your mouth to speak, he shushed you and continued, “I—I can’t take it anymore, Y/N. I know I said I wanted to be your friend, but I have loved you since you said hello. Please, Y/N… please…”
His lips brushed your ear, holding you tightly. You were still only wearing your robe and nightgown, having never really changed, given you stayed in bed all day. He untied the belt, kissing your neck softly as he removed it. Killer brought it up to your eyes and tied it just tightly enough so it would not fall.
“…Let me love you.”
Nodding profusely, you felt there was nothing more in the world you wanted than this moment. While Killer was incorrect as to why you were avoiding him, the words would not come to explain your side of things. Instead, you were rendered breathless, sighing as he pulled you back against his broad chest. His hands wandered your body through your robe as you sat in his lap, feeling your body heat up quickly. Having your sight hindered left your sense of touch heightened, mewling loudly at even his simplest of graces.
Turning your head, Killer caught your lips with his, tongues pressing against each other as his fingers slipped into your panties and between your legs. He gently circled his thumb over your clit, wasting no time in sliding one of his digits against your folds. When his fingers slipped in, your back arched, bringing one hand up to grip into his hair as he kissed your neck, your other holding onto his forearm as he fingered you tenderly. The two of you began to sweat more as he brought you to your peak, feeling you gush around his fingers as you came.
Neither of you spoke as he held you so close, so tightly in his arms that you thought you’d slip away into a puddle of goo if he let you go. Killer kissed your jaw, his large and hot tongue then licking your neck, tasting your sweat. You shivered and moaned at the feeling, his fingers slipping out from between your legs as he started to remove your robe and nightgown. Exposed, you shied away from Killer a brief moment, only to realize that you were pressed against his naked body, feeling his bare skin against yours now that there was nothing between you both.
“Did you really come up here in the buff?” you asked.
“Is that really important now?” he chuckled.
He had a point, especially when he lifted your hips to force you to straddle his lap, running the length of his member against your slit. You rolled your body, throwing your head back on his shoulder as you moaned, “Fuck, Killer!” His cock was hot, not uncomfortably, but warmer than any you remember. Maybe it was the night air, or being blindfolded, or maybe you just remembered the stupid videos your grandmother sent you and having to hear her say “it heats up and vibrates.”
As if on queue with your thoughts, you felt a pulsing start from Killer’s cock, chuckling as you twitched and squirmed, running it along your length until he brought his wide tip to your entrance. Slowly but surely, he slipped you down his vibrating and heated length, stretching you out deliciously as Killer still held your back to his chest. You had never been in such a position before, more surprised by how easily he was able to still keep control of you without making you overexert yourself. Just as he always did, Killer was putting you first.
You braced your legs around his, both of you on your knees as you began to lift yourself up as best you could. Hearing Killer’s stuttered breath, you turned your head just enough to catch his jaw against your lips as you ran your hand along his face and up into his hair. Killer’s hands on your hips tried but failed to stop your movements, hearing his voice strain, “Y/N, please. Let… let me do this. Let me—”
“Shhh,” you cooed to him, a breathy moan parting your lips, “Let me love you back.”
He really could not deny you, stopping only briefly in shock before you claimed his lips with yours. The two of you made love through most of the night, keeping the blindfold on mostly because you just forgot. It was the most amazing and sensual experience you had ever had with a lover. Laying in his arms in your bed panting, you kissed Killer passionately as you finally removed your robe sash from around your eyes.
You had not realized the sun started to come up, looking at him in the dimmest first light of day. Cupping his face in your hands, you smiled to him as Killer placed one of his own on top of yours, running his thumb over your fingers.
“I can’t believe you honestly thought I was disgusted by you,” you giggled, delighting in his smile as he chuckled.
“Well,” his smile grew as he spoke, pulling your body closer to his, “you would avoid looking at me, and froze up in shock any time you did, so what else was I supposed to think? I kinda thought things were one sided, I had no idea you were in love with me.”
You shook your head, “Hell no, I have been in such awe of your face that I feel like I might as well have been staring at the sun when I look at you. Like I’m not worthy.”
Killer held you closer to him, nearly squishing your face against his pecs, “You are more than worthy. You are the only one worthy of me. I would have no other, Y/N.”
It took you a moment to get him to release you, sputtering only slightly until you were both laughing. Kissing his face, you sat up, then looked out into your shared house from your lofted bedroom, “Gonna need a bigger bed.”
“Hm? And why is that?” your lover lay at your side, looking up to you as he rubbed your back with his large hand.
“For starters,” you pointed to his feet hanging off the bottom edge of your bed, “You don’t fit all the way. Second, if you think I am going to spend my nights without you next to me, you’ve got another thing coming.”
Killer laughed in his unusual way, just another thing you truly loved about him, “I guess you’re right, but are you willing to put up with my snoring that much closer to you?” He sat up and leaned his head atop yours, watching the living room below with you as it slowly lit up with the morning sun.
“I guess so. But it’s worth it.” You smiled, feeling his arms wrap around you tenderly. There was a long silence before Killer spoke with a chuckle.
“Because it vibrates?”
“Because it vibrates.”
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ashersskye · 1 month
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Lesser known effects of trauma that don't ever get acknowledged
Cw: mentions of csa, sa, despair, depression, & generally dark content that some may find hard to read. Please interact & read with care.
"bed rotting" (which I hear is gaining attention on TikTok these days) ie the process of becoming bedridden due to your body being stuck in freeze response (paralyzed w fear, too scared to move)
Needing to cut your hair bc it keeps getting matted down, because you can't shower or wash it or keep up with it anymore
Gaining weight (i gained over 200lbs in a year), losing all the clothes you once fit in, and feeling guilty when all you see everywhere all the time is fat shaming
Losing weight (and subsequently all your clothes start falling off 😭) eating disorders and struggling with body image
Existing off of God knows what at this point. Is that milk spoiled? Yeah but how many days is it spoiled? Mmm, nah, nevermind, I'll just eat air.
Losing track of time. Losing months to years of time because of extreme dissociation, fatigue, stress, and the inability to move
Brain & body "shut down" or go into sleep mode for long periods of time
Self hygiene becomes non existent. Showering? Brushing teeth? Changing clothes? Don't know her.
House cleaning becomes non existent. "If It's Not In The Vacinity, It's Not Getting Done."
Lying to everyone about what's going on because it's easier than telling the truth
Not being comfortable with having your pictures taken, go through a phase where you destroy any evidence you ever existed anywhere at all
Isolating & ghosting all ur friends periodically to make sure they're not gonna leave you (lol makes perfect sense, if you know you know)
Animal upkeep goes to shit. Litter box goes neglected for long periods of time.
Noise & light sensitivity goes haywire. Noise & light triggers get amplified especially once you start to feel any sense of "safety" and start decompressing. An alarm goes off, the stove beeps, the cat meows, anything that makes even the slightest noise in the foreground and you have a whole ass panic attack and find yourself in bed for the rest of the day
Agoraphobia. You never go outside ever again. Too much paranoia, too many eyes staring at you, too many reasons to panic and stay in bed
Life becomes so non existent that the only thing that matters is whatever you're currently doing to cope & survive. If you're addicted to something, well, it's a fucking miracle you even wake up anymore
Couch surfing and inevitable homelessness when people get tired of housing you. Having to confront the way society frames government assistance as "the lazy man's income" & hope disability goes through. Which it won't. Wait-lists out the ass, section 8 takes 5 years or more to kick in. Disability doesn't even go through bc they always deny the first time you apply. The process is littered with appeals and court dates and what the fuck, I can't even get out of bed. What the fuck. What the fuck.
Leaning into your despair because, despite what everyone on social media will shout at you about resilience and "not allowing yourself to fall into despair," they will never understand that concept that despair is there for a reason too. Youre looking at someone who was raped at 5 years old and youre telling them to "stay positive." Yeah okay.
The anger, the bitterness, the resentment at the world & everyone in it. The cold blooded urge for revenge & justice. Especially when there's nothing you can do about the fact that your abusers are still free to live and roam this world as they please.
Not being able to "talk about it." Not being able to "trust a safe space." That's bullshit. I was beat and abused my whole life, what the fuck you mean "safe space?" The absolute mind fuckery that you have to sit with and undo and learn the fact that they fucking lied to you. It is enough to kill you.
Everything you learn in therapy just pisses you off even more because why the fuck wasn't there someone there as a kid to teach you this shit???? Why the fuck do I have to learn this as an adult???? Where was this when I actually fucking needed it????
Nothing helps. Nothing soothes, because there is no soothing. There is only pain. It's like ripping your skin off.
Losing everything. Losing all your friends. Losing all your "cool status" points. Losing your reputation. Losing all the things that once brought you great joy and passion. There is nothing anymore. Pain and isolation and desolation and despair.
Learning that no one can relate. Except that's not entirely true at all. People can relate. It's just such a stigmatized topic that no one talks about it out loud, because no one else in society really gets it.
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silver-tongued-bby · 5 months
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The Fall - Chapter I
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Pairing: Manipulative!Dom!Loki x Sub!fem!Reader
This work is set in an AU.
Words: ~2,400
Summary: A chance encounter at the grocery store has you second guessing yourself and well, everything else.
This is work of fiction is 18+!!!!, and contains graphic descriptions of rough sex, manipulation, sadism, Loki who likes to see you cry, a dom/sub dynamic, a broken reader with family issues, cigarette smoking. Please do not interact if you are a minor or are sensitive towards any of the themes mentioned above.
~~~
It really was a bad fucking day. 
The exaggeratedly bad type of day that was reserved for shitty romcoms or late-night comedies, the ones that made your stomach curl. Everything that could go wrong did. 
And so here you were, feeling sorry for yourself as you vacantly stared at the neatly stacked ice cream containers behind the glass. You rubbed your eyes and caught a glimpse of someone in the reflection, flinching with a start. 
It took you a moment to recognise her - that girl. The one that showed up when you were at your lowest. That girl that looked so much like you, but without the mask. The mask that made you a functioning member of society, that got you jobs, friends, and dates. You looked at this girl, the one with tears in her eyes wrapped in a men’s coat four sizes too big for her and wondered when exactly she’d come into existence. It seemed she’d always been there, growing as her parents did their very best to do their absolute worst. 
You blinked again, sighing at your reflection before turning around, vacant stare now aimed at the boxes of crackers behind you. You weren’t hungry - not really. Your feet had just carried you to your car, so you drove yourself here, as if a 1AM visit to the grocery store would fix things. 
Blinking away the fresh tears, you grabbed a box of Cheez-Its off the shelf and turned, your bleary eyes meeting those of the stranger at the end of the aisle. 
Something in his stare stopped you, pinned you in place. His expression was neutral, but something in that blue-green told you to turn around and run, though your clever feet had seemingly retired for the evening. 
You could tell he was handsome, though you didn’t lift your gaze from his. You felt as if he’d somehow stripped you bare, easily seeing all you desperately tried to hide. 
You opened your mouth to speak, though you hadn’t the slightest idea of what to say. His eyes flickered down to the box in your hand before snapping back to your own and a second later he carried on, walking past the aisle to the next.
You stood there on uneasy legs, a frown tugging at your features. What the fuck was that? 
You shivered, your heart racing, the frown deepening when you felt heat pooling between your legs. You looked to the box of Cheez-Its, then back to where he stood. No, really. What the fuck was that?
You weren’t one to make eye contact in public, especially not when you were alone, learning young of the attention it brought. But something in the way he’d looked at you made you want it - want him to look at you again. 
You stopped yourself from following him, shaking your head as you walked to the front of the store. It was 1AM and you were alone in a deserted grocery store. What the hell are you doing? 
Your eyes cleared a little as you made your way to the checkout counter, the stranger filling your thoughts. The only clerk working was a teenage boy, who rung up your box and gave you your total in a monotone drawl. You asked for a pack of cigarettes as well, thumbing the lighter in your pocket. 
“ID?” He asked, blinking slowly at you. 
“Fuck,” you mumbled, feeling around in your pockets for your wallet. You’d left the house with a $20 bill crumpled in the top pocket of the giant fishing coat you donned. “I don’t have it on me.” 
He shrugged, looking back at you. “Manager’s really up my ass lately. Can’t give them to you without ID. Sorry,” he shrugged again, taking the crumpled bill from you as the register opened.
You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as you did your very best not to cry in front of this poor kid. Taking the box and pocketing the change, you walked out through the sliding doors and into the night. 
Making it to your car, you pulled the keys from your pocket, the box in your other hand. You swore as the keychain slipped from your fingers, skidding against the pavement and under the only other car in the lot- parked just a spot away. 
“Fuck,” you groaned, debating on whether or not to just leave them and walk home. Sighing, you got on your hands and knees, spotting the mass of keys right between the tires. You tried to reach but felt nothing, the gravel stinging against your kneecaps. You found the tears started to fall again, the day catching back up with you. 
You sniffed, reaching under the car again, the keys still just out of your grasp. You sat up on your knees, shivering as you thought of what to do. You must’ve sat there for a solid minute or two, your knees aching as you wiped tear after tear from your heated skin. 
“Here.” You jumped at the sound of a man’s voice, looking up to see him standing above you, your keyring hooked on his finger. He wore the same expression as before, though his eyes looked darker in the low light. 
“Oh,” you sniffed again and stood, taking the keyring from him. You brushed some of the gravel off your knees, wiping another tear away with the back of your hand. “Sorry.” 
You turned to leave, embarrassed, when you felt his hand against your shoulder. You looked to him, your breath catching once more as he looked down at you, his stare more intense than before. 
“Your biscuits,” he said, the little smirk curling at the corner of his lip making you feel better and worse at the same time. You looked down, seeing the box at your feet. He withdrew his hand as you bent to pick it up. 
“Right,” you mumbled. 
“You want one?” He asked, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his pants pocket. 
You looked at his outstretched hand, the long fingers steady. Looking back to his face, the little smirk was gone. You reached out with a shaky hand, sliding a cigarette from the pack. He put one between his lips and swiftly lit it, holding out his lighter to you. 
“Thank you,” you lit the cigarette then handed him back his lighter. He took it, fingers brushing yours, though his eyes were trained on the highway across the street. You stood beside him in silence, the sound of a passing car filling the air every few seconds. 
“You’re pretty when you cry.” He’d turned to look at you as he’d said it, though you kept your eyes trained on the highway. 
“T-thanks,” you sniffed, glancing up at him, heart racing as he looked down at you with that intensity again. You swallowed. 
He held your gaze as he reached up, the tips of his fingers lightly touching your jaw as his thumb brushed away a tear. His eyes fell to your lips as you wet them, you could feel they were puffy as a result of your crying. Before your brain could catch up with his movements he’d withdrawn, pulling the cigarette from his lips to extinguish it beneath a boot. 
“I’m not always like this,” you said, his gaze lifting to meet yours. 
He quirked an eyebrow as he studied your face. 
You shifted on your feet. “I’m usually better- normal.”
He smirked, turning to open his car door. “Of course you are.” He slid inside, turning on the engine before pulling out of the empty lot, the vehicle’s acceleration loud once it hit the highway. 
You stared off in the direction he’d gone, wondering if that had really just happened. A shiver tore through you as you remembered the feel of his touch against your skin. 
You should have been outraged, or at the very least disturbed at the intimacy of the action, but all you could think of was how desperately you wanted it to happen again. 
You took one last drag off your cigarette and ducked into your front seat, peeling off the other way. 
~~~
Looking in the mirror, you adjusted your skirt before leaning forward to swipe a thumb at your eyeliner. Leaning backwards you but your lip, sticky with gloss as your heart hammered in your chest. 
You looked at your phone to check the time, letting out a shaky breath as you made for the door. 
The drive was quick, one you’d become familiar with over the past week as you visited in the dead of night. Your sick little ritual performed in the hopes of seeing him again. Pulling up to the lot, your heart leapt to your throat when you saw his car, the black expensive one, parked neatly near the front of the darkened deserted pavement. 
You parked a row back, locking your door as you walked quickly to the entrance. You shivered as the blast of air conditioning met your skin, eliciting goosebumps over your exposed arms. You bit your lip, deciding to take the long walk to the back aisle of the store. 
You stepped slowly, shoes clicking off the scuffed linoleum as you kept your gaze forward, using your peripherals to see within the aisles. You couldn’t help the little gasp that slipped from your lips when you caught sight of his lithe, dark figure. You could feel his gaze on you as you passed by, continuing on without a glance in his direction until you made it to the laundry detergent in the next aisle. Picking up a small jug, you made your way to the cash, paying for your purchase along with a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. 
You leant against your car, lighting up a cigarette. Taking one nervous drag after another, you finished it and pulled the carton back out, slipping a fresh one from the pack. Your eyes drifted to the sliding doors as they opened. 
You lit it up, watching him walk to his car. He glanced at you casually, opening his trunk for the bag in his hand. 
You bit your lip, pushing yourself off the cool metal before making your way to him. “Hey,” you called out, walking closer. 
He looked at you, that same gaze stripping you bare once more, making your fingers tremble around the cigarette. 
“I-I was here the other night,” you came closer, your heart pounding as you took in his handsome features. He was at least twice your age. “I wanted to say thanks,” you offered him a cigarette. “I was having a rough night.” 
He glanced at your hand before taking it from you. “I remember.” 
You nodded as he lit it up, taking a drag. 
“Is there something you want?” 
You opened your mouth, then shut it, unsure of what to say. What did you want from him?
There was that stare again. “How many times did you come to the grocery store at 1 in the morning this week?” 
Your eyes widened. 
He took a step closer. “The clerk inside told me you’d been by every night. Is that right?”
You found yourself nodding, the rest of you frozen in place. 
“And what were you looking for?” 
You swallowed. 
He waited. 
“You,” you called out, the small sound of your own voice surprising you. 
“And what is it that you want from me?”
“I don’t know,” it was a whimper - barely audible over the sound of a passing car. 
He didn’t say a word, simply pulling a phone from his back pocket. He handed it to you, opened to the new contact creator. 
You took it in your shaky hands, typing out your name and number before passing it back to him, his fingertips grazing yours. 
He put the phone back in his pocket. “You shouldn’t be hanging around here this late,” he put out his cigarette. “It isn’t safe.” 
You nodded. 
He slid into the drivers seat and pulled off, leaving you speechless and alone once again. 
~~~
It was a week before he texted you.
The first two days any notification you got made you scramble for your phone, heart pounding, only to be disappointed yet again. 
On the third day you started to lose hope, and wondered if you should go back to the grocery store. He’d told you not to - but what if that only meant he’d actually wanted you to? What if it was all a test? 
After sitting in your car in the driveway for an hour you decided to go to bed with a huff, only to do the exact same thing the night after. 
On the fifth day you did your best to push him from your mind - to stop the image of his face from popping up each time you closed your eyes. It didn’t work, so you spent the night awake, watching horror movies as you attempted to force him from your thoughts with blood and gore. 
The sixth day you drove past the grocery store at 1:03 AM, not seeing his car there as your heart sank in your chest. 
Then the seventh day came. And at eight o’clock on a Sunday you got a text, prompting you to lazily reach for your phone. You sat up straight when you saw the unknown number. 
Have you figured it out yet?
Figured out what? You responded in seconds, cursing yourself for not playing it cool. 
What you want from me.
Your heart raced as you reread the words, trying to think up a witty response. Only one thing echoed in your thoughts, and you found yourself typing it out, and staring at the words. 
I want you to pay attention to me. 
Before you could overthink it you hit send and closed your phone, throwing it to the other end of the couch. The soft ping made you reach for it, your heart in your throat. 
What are you willing to do for my attention? 
You swallowed, staring at the words. A normal person wouldn’t respond, recognising that statement for what it was. A red flag. A huge one at that. You knew what he was asking for, and yet you typed out a response, quickly hitting send. 
Anything. 
You watched the three dots at the bottom of the screen. 
Let’s get dinner.
~~~
To be continued...
~~~
Author's Note: Ok ok ok so this is very loosely based off of this one-off interaction I had at a grocery store (years ago), as well as a somewhat popular account on here that I am both fascinated and disgusted with at the same time. Reader is in for a sketchy time...
Thank you so much for checking out my latest work. A new chapter of Tear You Apart is coming soon.
And thank you to all of my followers for your continued support during my hiatus 🖤
As usual, likes, reblogs, and comments are always immensely appreciated. 🖤 🖤
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your-mums-nuts · 2 months
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The thing I love about Protective!Ted in relation to tedbecca is not the whole ‘caveman angry because someone upset his woman’ but rather, how his anger and dislike for Rupert, and the way that he handles it, signals to (a very mistrustful) Rebecca that his charm and his kindness is not some farce he shows absolutely everybody.
Over time, we learn that Rupert started out charming. He told Rebacca all he wanted was to talk to her, he made her feel special. So when Ted comes in every morning to bring her a batch of homemade biscuits and just, hang out with her. She’s understandably hesitant, because that’s how Rupert got her, and she doesn’t yet understand the difference between charming and nice.
But when Ted faces off against Rupert (eg the gala, playing darts) his responses to her being insulted, belittled and spoken down to, all reveal a level of uncontrollable, genuine care.
Rupert would’ve easily brushed off any insults towards his wife with some charm and good natured teasing, he probably even joined in, the fucking guy. Meanwhile, Ted’s reactions to Rupert insulting Rebecca are always abrupt and defensive. He loses his cool, he says something he’s not supposed to, he reveals something he’s not supposed to, he becomes a guy that even we, the audience, are not used to. But his protectiveness never comes from a place of typical, masculine possessiveness or jealousy. (Okay, maybe a little jealousy. A girl can dream)
In the charity-gala episode, Rupert causes immediate stress for Rebecca. So Ted, not even knowing the full extent of it yet, visibly dislikes this guy from the moment they meet. Even when Rupert’s charming the pants off the crowd and raising charity ‘for the children’ Ted continues to react uncomfortably in his presence, no matter how friendly he is.
Then, when he does get the extent of it, (Rebecca crying, Rupert being the one to cancel the musical guest) he lets that dislike out, openly taking Rebecca’s side. Which isn’t surprising, but is still very sweet.
In the dart episode, Rupert reveals he’s gonna be in the owners box everyday. Ted doesn’t like this at all, but he doesn’t go off his own reaction, he observes Rebecca’s reaction to gauge her feelings on the matter. Rebecca is clearly unsettled and uncomfortable, and you can kind of see Ted mentally go, ‘yeah no, she’s not cool with that, that’s not happening.’
And then even before they play darts, first and foremost, Ted checks if Rebecca would like to leave. Now, we know his character hates conflict, especially after his train-wreck marriage, so we know that he would like to leave. But when Rebecca decides to remain in a bar with her horrible ex-husband, his child-bride and a room full of people who adore him, which is a little masochist-y even for me, he doesn’t even hesitate.
Her reasoning is very English. ‘Make yourself suffer out of obligation to polite society’ type shit. But instead of making her feel silly or ridiculous or forcing her to leave, Ted goes out of his way to ease Rebecca’s suffering and make Rupert leave her alone, even if it causes him discomfort.
Now, I know that Ted is a very caring character and a lot of this can be chalked up to him being a good friend. But with the way they present Ted and Rebeca’s relationship (he calls her boss, she calls the shots, she’s more authoritative) To see him take over for her, without thought, whenever Rupert upsets her, reveals more intimacy and depth to their relationship than we previously understood. And to have her be grateful, and in some instances, downright delighted by this display of care and protectiveness, reveals something else entirely.
Anyway I read twelve protective!Ted tedbecca fics last night and this is what’s left of my brain.
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Like Heaven (ftm!Miguel O’Hara x ftm!reader)
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Reposting this because for some reason it wasn’t showing up in the tags last time????
Warnings: nsfw, semi-public fucking, implied switch ftm Miguel, vaguely implied switch ftm reader, praise, begging, edging, implied that Miguel has had a crush on the reader
18+, mdni
Fic under cut
Miguel O’Hara was three things: one of your closest friends in the Spider-society, incredibly attractive, and your boss. This situation was not helped by the fact that he was also one of the first other Spiders you met and who helped you when he found you in a shitty situation back in your universe. While you also loved the other Spiders you were close with, Miguel seemed to stand out to you the most, and it wasn’t just the previous things, nor was it just his tall frame, his eyes that seemed to shift between red and dark brown, his sharp fangs, or his stupidly perfect hair.
No. For some reason, he seemed as equally drawn to you as you were to him. He seemed more protective of you than he did of any of the other Spiders he especially cared for. Even Peter. Even Jess, who was in a much more vulnerable state than you, what with her being an expecting mother.
Whenever you were in HQ and Miguel had a free moment, he sought you out. If you were in the cafeteria, there he was, approaching your table silently with a tray containing food you knew he’d offer most of to you. In the gym at HQ? Miguel was there, helping you with tough exercises, or sometimes just watching you while he did his own thing.
You sometimes wondered if he knew something was about to happen.
After three, maybe four, months of this, you got up the courage to ask Miguel about what he was doing. A perfect opportunity came up when he called you to his office and you knew no one else would probably be there.
Your footsteps echoed loudly in the dark empty, alone except for yourself, the machinery, and the to-go order of empanadas you got for yourself and Miguel. Of course, you knew Miguel was probably watching you walk to his office; he always did that whenever someone went to talk to him there.
Miguel’s platform was already lowering itself towards the ground when you you get to his office. You stood maybe fifty feet away from where the platform would land, not wanting to rush the conversation too much.
You watched as the tall man hopped off of his platform and walked closer to you. As friendly offering, you lifted the to-go box with the empanadas a bit higher.
“That’s… not necessary.” Miguel’s eyes flitted to the box, but despite his words, the corners of his mouth tugged up in an almost smile.
“Here, take them. I don’t care what you do with them when I leave, but don’t make me carry them all day.” You tossed the box to Miguel with a smile, and he caught it effortlessly. He placed it on a chair on his platform.
“Thanks for coming in on such short notice.” Miguel said when he returned his gaze back to you.
“No problem.” You shifted nervously. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something anyway.”
“Oh, really? What do you need to tell me?” The other man’s eyes quickly looked you over once.
You felt yourself blush, but you went on anyway. “I was just gonna ask you something but I’m sure it’s not as important as what you called me here for.”
“You can ask now.”
“Are you sure?”
Miguel raised eyebrow. “Just go ahead and ask. The reason I called you here can wait.”
“Oh. Uh. I just… noticed, that you’ve been actively spending a lot of time with me compared to the others, and I guess I just want to know why.”
Miguel raised both eyebrows this time. “Come here, I have something to show you. Maybe this will help explain.” He beckoned you to follow him to his platform, and you obliged.
One screen showed a video of a couple who, upon closer inspection, closely resembled you and Miguel, but clearly from another universe.
“What’s this?” You asked, your voice nearly failing. You couldn’t deny that you really liked Miguel, maybe that you were attracted to him.
“This is us. Well, a version of us anyway. I found out about them just a few months ago. They’re from earth-483.”
You realized that Miguel might have started paying closer attention to you around the same tile he discovered this couple that was you and him in another universe. Without meaning to, you leaned closer to the screen.
The pair on the screen looked fancy, almost like… almost like they were getting married. You looked back at Miguel, more confused than before.
“Maybe I should explain more. On earth-483, we got married, even had a kid.” Miguel looked at you, must have seen your initial reaction before it slipped off your face. “I know, I know. Just because they’re versions of us doesn’t make them exactly like us.”
“I know.” You gave Miguel an amused smile. “But this doesn’t really explain anything.”
Miguel sighed and moved closer to you. “I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind, you know. When I found out about this version of us, happy and together, I knew it wasn’t just a random feeling.” You could almost feel Miguel’s body, a presence that felt warm, steady, and strong.
Your breath caught in your throat. “Miguel, do you even hear what you’re saying? They’re from the same dimension as each other, we’re not.”
“I know.” Miguel’s voice got quiet. “Trust me.”
“I trust you, but I don’t think I quite understand you.”
“Then let me explain.” Normally when he said something like this, Miguel would be annoyed or pissed, but this time, he seemed to be neither of those things. His hot breath hit the back of your breath, and suddenly everything made sense.
You were attracted to him too, but you knew you had to be careful. Miguel’s hands crept around your torso and you grabbed them. You didn’t force him away, but you didn’t know how far this would go.
Still, you felt a warm, fluttery feeling just below your stomach. Miguel’s hands slowly went lower, and you didn’t stop him. Soon, his hands found the hem of the top half of your Spider suit and immediately plunged underneath the fabric.
“Is this okay?” Miguel asked, lips ghosting against the back of your neck. You repressed a moan and nodded.
“This is okay.” You said quietly. Immediately, Miguel’s hands started moving back up your torso, but this time underneath your suit. His warm hands felt almost like Heaven against your skin.
“This would be better off.” Miguel muttered, so the two of you shimmied the top half of your suit off. Miguel had you turn around so he could see more of you. His eyes lingered on your top surgery scars for a moment but that didn’t change anything about his expression or demeanor.
“What are you doing?” You asked again. Miguel moved in even closer. He put his hands on your waist and held you firmly. You watched as the top half of his suit melted away, leaving his chest bare. You were pleasantly surprised to see the surgical scars on his chest that matched yours.
The warmth of the sudden chest to chest contact made everything Miguel did, every seemingly out of place word he uttered, make sense. Through the parts of your respective shits that remained on, you felt the heat between Miguel’s legs.
Slowly, Miguel slid one hand behind the waistband of your suit. His fingers found their way through the fabric of your underwear, and to your swollen tdick. Your hips automatically responded to the pleasure, pressing against Miguel’s fingers.
“May I remove this?” Miguel asked, his breath once again hitting your neck.
“Yes. Please.” You moaned. Miguel’s hands slowly worked your pants down your legs. You attempted to help him, but he swatted your hands away.
Miguel’s height made it so that he had to crouch to get your pants below your knees. It seemed like he kept on almost getting distracted by your glistening tdick and your warm folds, but his hands kept pushing your pants down until they reached your ankles. Miguel helped you kick your pants to the side.
The man’s warm tongue flicked against your clit the moment your feet were planted again. Your hands tangled themselves in Miguel’s perfect dark brown hair, and he clasped your thighs.
For a moment, you worried about someone hearing your needy whines, but that fear was quickly pushed down by the pleasure Miguel was giving you.
“A-ah, Miguel.” You whimpered out. The grip on your thighs tightened, as did the clasp your fingers held in Miguel’s hair.
“You’re such a good boy.” Miguel mumbled, not bothering to remove his mouth from your tdick. The heat of his breath and the vibration of his voice sent shockwaves nearly as strong as his tongue did.
One of Miguel’s hands moved from your thigh to your wet hole, which had been grinding on nothing since the other man started. You gasped when one, then two, of Miguel’s thick fingers managed their way in. You knew what was coming next but you still weren’t prepared for it.
Miguel curled his fingers and started pumping inside of you while his tongue continued to work its magic against your swollen tdick. Stars swam in your vision, clouded by immense pleasure. You started grinding against Miguel’s tongue and fingers, feeling yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. Clearly, Miguel knew this too. His motions slowed, the pumping not as forceful and the flicking of his tongue not as fast. You let out a whine, which caused Miguel to chuckle.
“Do you really think I’m gonna let you finish so easily?” Miguel teased before planting a kiss and a soft bite on your inner thigh. He removed his fingers, a wet noise coming when they fully pulled out. He rose to his feet and, with his unused hand, cleared and turned off the consoles on the platform.
Miguel pulled you back closer to him and give you a warm kiss on the lips. You were so desperate with need that even the quick kiss brought you intense pleasure.
“You’re so cute like this, I almost want to just hold you forever.” Miguel smiled and gave you another kiss. You blushed deeply.
Miguel grabbed your ass with one hand and held you closer to him. You placed one of your hands on his waist, the other creeping down to his welcoming folds.
“May I?” You ask, your lips pressed against Miguel’s neck, when your hand reaches his hard tdick.
“Yes please.” Miguel purred. “Good boy.”
Your fingers plunged into his folds, spreading his slick and targeting wherever you figured might feel good. Miguel’s breathing quickened, as did yours, and he let out moans that reverberated throughout your entire body.
Without thinking, you slid two fingers inside Miguel’s hole, just as he’d done to you. The man let out a growl of pleasure, and you started targeting his g-spot. His moans sounded like heaven in your ears.
Miguel’s fingers wrapped themselves in your hair, and he held you in such a way that your face couldn’t escape his neck if you tried.
“Let’s do something more, mi vida.” Miguel whispered.
“Yes please.” You whisper back. Miguel smiled and loosened his grip on you so he could grab something from a nearby drawer.
“Normally, I’d ask what position you���d prefer, but I want to hear your pretty moans again.” Miguel said, punctuating his words with kisses to your neck.
He pulled away from you for a moment, and you saw the strap on and harness in his hands. He got it on quickly- clearly he’d had experience with this before, which made you just the slightest bit jealous- and pushed you against one of the switched off consoles. He lifted your bare legs with ease and placed them over his shoulders.
“Is this okay?” Miguel asked before he positioned the strap on for insertion. You nodded, and Miguel rubbed the rim of your needy hole with one finger to prepare you for when he put the thick strap on.
You gasped when you felt the silicon member push itself deep into your hole. Miguel chuckled and caressed your face gently.
“Are you ready, mi amor?” Miguel asked, and you nodded, desperate for him to start fucking into you.
Immediately, Miguel started thrusting. Loud whines and moans escaped from your lips, and Miguel raised one hand and placed on your chin. His thumb caressed your bottom lip.
“Taking me so well.” Miguel mumbled, his speech slurred by pleasure.
“Thank you, sir.” You whined out. Miguel smiled and kept pounding into you.
Miguel planted kisses all along your jawline and neck, each kiss bringing out another whine. He gripped your waist tight and kept you pinned against the console. Not that you’d try to get out from underneath him if you could.
There was that feeling again, the one of slowly approaching the edge. Miguel smirked and brought one hand to your tdick and started rubbing. The extra pleasure only made your noises even louder.
“Please.” You whimpered.
“Please what?” Miguel said, his hot breath and lips hitting the sensitive skin of your neck.
“Please let me finish.” You begged.
Miguel smiled against your skin and kept rubbing your swollen tdick. His thrusting picked up, harder and faster and you lost control. You let out one last loud moan, and your hole clenched against Miguel’s strap on.
Miguel finished just a moment later, his own tdick having been stimulated by the back end of the strap on. He pulled out and gave you another kiss on the lips.
“Let’s go get cleaned up, shall we?” Miguel said, grabbing your hand as the two of you helped each other back into your clothes.
127 notes · View notes
fbfh · 5 months
Text
curiosity is a wonderful thing - ch. 6
wc: 2.8k
genre: slowburn, best friends to lovers, painful tooth rotting fluff
pairing: Audrey x Ben, eventual Ben x daughter of alice!reader
warnings: ben's deeply repressed feelings looming ominously in the distance, audrey being an absolute bitch but what's new, op fixing the lore with nail glue and packing tape, Evie is a fucking icon as always
summary: After a long day fighting your way through a mountain of paperwork, you find yourself unable to sleep. Sneaking into ben's room always does the trick. Mal can't find a love spell in her spell book, but she finds something that should work almost as well.
song recs: spring fever - sub urban
a/n: the one thing that pisses me off is that there is no canonical use of love spells in the disney universe outside of descendants. they literally don't exist. genie says no making someone fall in love with someone else. you'd think they would know their own lore /lh
anyway fangz to cici as always (i am so sorry about buggy) and also as always, an optional fit for your viewing pleasure
tags @yesv01 @magcon7280 @hopefullhearts @thatawkwardlittlefangirl  @sunshineangel-reads @strawberry-cake1 @dustyinkpages @kiara7777
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You spend the next several hours by Ben’s side as you bounce between various meetings, and of course, your etiquette lessons that you’ve been attending since you were no older than a twizzleroot blossom.  They're not really etiquette lessons, not anymore. They were when you were young, you would attend a few times a week with all the other kids your age. You’d learn how to drink tea, how to write thank you notes, and all the other things you need to know to feel comfortable in royal high society settings. By the end of middle school, most of your peers were no longer in attendance. 
You and Ben, however, used the opportunity to learn about more and more of the nuanced aspects of politics, social graces, and media training. Your parents were both glad for this, and since you seemed on track to be real politicians and not just socialites, it was a perfect fit. However, saying that you have to go to your class for advanced political studies, world history, social graces, and media training is a little too clunky for your taste. You and Ben never grew out of calling them etiquette lessons, so the name stuck to this day.
On this day in particular, you now find yourself sitting next to Ben at a large table in one of the many makeshift conference rooms on campus. You’ve been in and out of meetings and lessons and debriefings about the Isle kids’ arrival, and now you’ve finally made it nearly to the end of your to do list. Ben insisted you didn’t need to stay late with him to do all this paperwork, but you insisted equally as much that you wouldn’t dream of leaving him to do it all himself. Now as Ben skims the monotonous text, signing on lines and initialing boxes, you dig through a seemingly endless database of forms, trying to find the right one. 
You bounce increasingly obscure form titles back and forth for a few minutes. After coming up with nothing, Ben lets out an amiable laugh. He should have expected something that seems straightforward would take at least ten times as long as it should. That’s government for you, that’s what his dad would say. A knock at the door draws both your attention, and Jane pokes her head in awkwardly. She tucks a section of her dark blunt bob behind her ear, then speaks nervously. 
“Uh, hi. My mom sent me,” she says in a quiet, hesitant voice. “She said she’s going to be about half an hour late. There was a problem with some ducks in the forest, or something?” 
Ben smiles at her politely.
“Thanks, Jane.” Ben says politely. Jane nods and leaves quickly, fussing with her short hair. You let out a puff of air from between your lips.
“Even more delays…” you murmur, clicking onto page 23 out of 66 of forms to look through. “How fun.”
Ben chuckles, agreeing as he stands up to stretch his legs. He walks around for a moment, and turns on an extra lamp. It’s starting to get dark out, and the last thing either of you need right now is eye strain. Wait, it’s already getting dark out? He stops in his tracks.
“Shit.” He mutters, reaching for his phone on the table. He completely forgot about dinner with Audrey, but he has to find these forms and get them filled out tonight. You try not to look like you're listening too closely as the phone rings, but Audrey’s voice is quite hard to ignore. Before he can greet her, she’s already demanding to know where he is and why he’s late.
“No, no. I- I didn’t forget. I… well… uh, no. It’s-” Ben rambles around Audrey’s interjections. He gets up, pacing around a little, and walking across the room away from you. He doesn’t want you to have to hear this. 
“We’re just running behind. No- No! I would never intentionally… stand you up… I-” 
“Right!” Audrey snaps on the other end, forcing a smile. “Well then. Maybe we should just cancel!” 
“Wh- uh, okay. I- I’ll make it up to you. We can… uh, later this week? We’ll - before the next tourney meet? I…” 
Ben sighs and pulls his phone away, looking at the screen. Call ended. He walks back over to the table, sitting down to continue trudging through the task at hand. You wordlessly slide a teacup over toward him, the colorful porcelain filled with warm chai, perfectly sweetened. He cracks a smile, and accepts the cup. 
“Thanks, bunny.” He says quietly. You hum warmly in response. You settle back into your comfortable silence, trudging through forms and digging through documents. As you sit across from each other, the pile of completed paperwork steadily grows taller. Hours pass, and you don’t realize how late it is until you’re finally ready to call it quits for tonight. You stumble through your bedtime routine, grateful that you have your muscle memory to carry you through. As soon as your head hits your soft pillow… nothing happens. You toss and turn for a few minutes, trying to get comfortable, then let out an irritated sigh. You managed to get through such a long day and mountains of paperwork, and you still can’t sleep. 
In the opposite wing of the dorms, Ben has no trouble winding down. He’s cozy in his silky royal blue and daffodil yellow sheets, and he’s satisfied with a long day of hard, productive work. He lets out a soft breath, feeling himself teetering on the brink of sleep. Then he hears his door creak open. Soft, muffled footsteps creep across the wood floor, then grow silent as they meet the expansive carpet covering the majority of the floor. He doesn’t move, doesn’t open his eyes, but he can feel someone crouching next to his bed. 
“...Ben?”
He cracks a smile at the sound of your voice, how quiet and tiny you sound in the lateness of the night. You smile a little too when you see him fighting a little grin. After a moment, he answers. 
“Yes bunny?”
“Are you asleep?” You ask carefully. You wait in the darkness for him to answer. 
“Yes.” 
You smile at his sarcastic response, letting out a little breathy giggle through your nose. You kick off your bunny slippers - complete with little tophats - and crawl into bed next to Ben. He’s already scooching over and lifting up the blankets for you, pulling them over your shoulders the way he knows you like. 
He doesn’t need to ask if you couldn’t sleep, he already knows you couldn’t. You’ve been doing this, sneaking in for sleepovers when insomnia gets the best of you, for as long as he can remember. Something about his presence comforts you, relaxes you through even the longest, most never ending nights. No matter how tired he is, he’s always happy to be there for you on nights like tonight, he’s always happy to keep you warm and talk you to sleep. 
And that’s just what he does. He lets you lead the conversation, rambling about whatever springs to mind, emptying out your brain so you can rest. He’d like to think he knows you pretty well by now. He knows just what to do to help you settle down, to give you the best chance of having a restful night. It’s no surprise to him that you mostly seem to be thinking about the Isle kids. 
“I mean, this is real. Our actions mean they get a chance at a better life.” You mutter drowsily. Your cheek is squished against his pillow and your words are heavy with fatigue. Ben can’t help but think it makes your Wonderland accent that much… cuter. 
“Yeah,” He agrees. He traces his hand along your back soothingly. He glances down and notices you’re wearing the white button down shirt you sometimes wear as a pajama top. He asked you about it once, and you said it made you think of him. He smiles a little as he settles back into his pillows.
“I just hope they’ll be able to assimilate well.” You say, a tone of worry now present in your words. “The only thing worse than doing nothing would be having their decisions made for them because of social pressure…” 
“We’ll keep a close eye out for that.” Ben says. His voice is husky and drowsy. It fills you with warmth, with an appreciation for him and the way he stays up with you even though you know how tired he must be. You nod a little, then find yourself rambling again. 
“I just wish there was a way to guarantee that they felt welcome and not… ostracized.” You mumble. You inch closer to him, snuggling into his warm chest and listening to his soothing heartbeat. It speeds up almost imperceptibly as you do.
“Make sure they know that we know them as people. As individuals, and not just…” You continue, cutting yourself off with a yawn. You stretch a little as you do, then curl back up. Ben looks down at you, smiling a little at how sweet you are, at how clingy you get when you’re sleepy. 
“As the children of their parents…” You finish. Ben hums in agreement. He notices how heavy your eyes are getting, how your speech is slowing, how the flow of your thoughts have gone from a fully blasting garden hose to a subtly dripping kitchen sink. You’re about to fall asleep, which means he can let himself sleep too. He couldn’t have gone to bed before now if he wanted to. If he knows you can’t sleep, he won’t be able to either. But feeling your soft breaths across his skin, feeling the way your chest rises and falls as his hand lays comfortingly on your side, knowing that you’re warm and safe here, with him… Ben feels more relaxed than he has in a long time. Probably since… the last time you couldn’t sleep. 
Sometimes when it’s just the two of you like this, all drowsy and late at night, in the moments before he falls asleep, Ben sometimes gets… weird thoughts. Weird, random, impulsive thoughts that are not at all like him. Totally out of left field stuff, like… wanting to kiss you. Like, really, really wanting to kiss you. Sometimes that turns into wanting to hold you, too. And not like this, not holding you platonically, like a best friend, but… holding you a different way. Maybe wanting to hold you tight in his arms, and lay you down in his big, silky bed, and… 
Ben squeezes his eyes shut tight for a moment before relaxing his face. He puts a manual stop to that train of thought, absolutely refusing to let it continue anymore. He won’t entertain it, he won’t let it heat up his cheeks anymore. He doesn’t like thinking things like that about anyone, and he certainly won’t let himself think anything like that about you. He sighs softly. These crazy thoughts will be gone by the morning. They always are. They have to be. 
Besides, it’s so late, he won’t even remember this by the time he wakes up. That’s what he always tells himself. The last thing he would never admit to anyone - not even to himself - surfaces right before he falls asleep. It must be the late hour, where everything vulnerable feels completely abstract and intangible, but he thinks it’s a lot easier to stop himself from thinking those things about Audrey than it is to stop thinking those things about you. 
While you and Ben drift off to sleep, safe and sound in each other’s arms, someone else is wide awake. Sitting in the dorm she shares with Evie, Mal sits on her bed, scouring her spell book exactly like she’s been doing since Ben left earlier that afternoon. After hours of hitting brick wall after brick wall, Mal is met with the back cover of the book. Again. She lets out a frustrated noise, and flips back to the beginning.
“There’s not a single love spell in this whole fucking book!” She exclaims. She looks over the first few pages, reading them more closely in hopes that she somehow missed something. Evie sits across the room in front of a lit up mirror, plucking meticulously at her eyebrows. 
“Are we…” She winces, then inspects her skin and eyebrows again. “Are we sure we need a love spell?” 
Mal rolls her eyes at the question. Yes, obviously they need a love spell. Evie is oblivious to her irritation, and continues thinking out loud around her careful use of the sharp tweezers in her hand. 
“I could… just work my charm on him. All it would take is one look into my…” Another wince. “Hypnotizing eyes, and he’d be wrapped around my finger.”
She leans back, taking a final look at her work, more satisfied with her appearance now. 
“I mean, he’s not really my type, but…” she shrugs, and looks at Mal, waiting for some kind of reaction from her. Mal doesn’t look up at Evie’s eyebrows, she just keeps digging through her book and ignoring the sound of Carlos and Jay playing videogames.
“No, we need a spell. This has to work. It has to be foolproof.” 
Evie grabs a jade roller and some hydrating gel. She still can’t believe how amazing the makeup and the skincare in Auradon is. She hasn’t seen one half wilted aloe plant, and this gel is infused with roses from Aurora’s moors, glacier water from Arendelle, and caviar fished from the Caribbean. She can’t wait to get her hands on a decent blush, and a lip liner that doesn’t double as eyeliner and an eyebrow pencil. 
Evie notices the scowl on Mal’s face as she hunches over the spell book. Normally she would scold Mal for making faces that will give her wrinkles, but now that she has her hands on retinol, hyaluronic acid, and hydrocolloid patches, she can fix any stress wrinkles Mal brings upon herself. After what feels like an eternity of searching the same pages over and over, something catches Mal’s eye, causing her to stop in her tracks. It’s more of her mothers rambling annotations and scrawled notes, this time on the topic of hypnosis. 
Hypnosis can be useful as long as you’re stealthy with it. Jafar got sloppy, he kept hypnotizing that stupid sultan over and over, not bothering to use hypnosis for it’s true purpose - a means to an end. If you’re an evil genius like I am, and you use hypnosis sparingly, no one will be the wiser. Don’t get me started on that oversized calamari - Ursula has to be the best example of what not to do when you’re hypnotizing a bonehead prince to make him think he’s in love with you. Something as easily breakable as a necklace? Please. Besides, everyone knows the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. 
Her mother’s scratchy handwriting goes on for a while, some anecdote about her and Mal’s father, something she’d rather not read. Ever. She thinks back to what Evie said about wrapping Ben around her finger, and in one desperately needed moment of clarity, everything falls into place. A plan begins to form in her mind. 
“This… this could work.” She says. Those three, quietly spoken words get the attention of everyone in the room. Evie sets down her gua sha stone, and Carlos pauses their videogame. They all walk over, hesitant and eager to hear what Mal figured out. Mal lets out a laugh of disbelief. It seems so simple now, she wonders why she didn’t think of it sooner. She can just hypnotize Ben into falling in love with her. She can trick him into thinking that he loves Mal more than he’s ever loved Audrey, then - boom! Front row seats to coronation, which means front row seats to stealing the wand out from under their noses. 
While Mal silently hashes out the details so she can tell her friends, Evie inspects her cuticles. She really should push them back. She stands up, grabbing a cuticle pusher and an orange wood stick from her pencil cup before making her way back over to Mal’s bed. As the three of them wait with bated breath, Mal looks over the hypnosis spell again and again. After a few moments, she tucks a piece of paper between the pages, marking her spell to reference later. She slams the book shut, and looks up at her friends.
“Come on guys. Let’s go bake some cookies.”
95 notes · View notes
sweetbluebanisters · 10 months
Text
Ultraviolent
'cause I was filled with poison
But blessed with beauty and rage
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚.
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Who Controlling!Miguel Ohara x Sweet!Reader
Warnings Contains!Smut, Violence, Abuse
Backstory A sweet bartender from the coast of California clashes with a mean man, who never doesn’t get his way. Two different personalities, don’t always work out in ways you’d wish
SPOILER ALERT
Ch. I sweet as sugar
Ch. ll Deadly Nightshade
I’ll proofread it later I’m too lazy to rn. 😭
I'm gonna post the 3rd chapter it's jus I've been packing for vacation so give me a good day or 2
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Sometimes, looking down at Nuvea York was too much to you. You missed the palm trees and the smell of the salty ocean, the way your hair would look when emerging from the oceans water. The towels, the fun. Here, in Nueva York, without constantly being around Miguel and Jess, you found yourself fighting boredom.
You would go and talk to people you somewhat knew, but you couldn't talk to them like you could the people back home, when you tried expressing the way you felt to Miguel, it felt like his reaction was just a 'suck it up, buttercup'. Without permission, sometimes you would go back home. For a little nap in your pretty pink sheets, you felt like a princess in your apartment, there you just felt like a liability, don't get me wrong, people loved you and you enjoyed your time there, but a break was very much needed.
And this time was one of those times. Miguel said the same thing everyday
'cup of coffee, please'
'write down the dimensional reports, thanks.'
'do you mind getting me _____'
as much as you wished to spend more time with your boss crush, it was time you gave yourself that break. So, when lunch time came, you decided to use that time to go back home, take a nap. Maybe even watch a movie.
You lied in your cold sheets, a warm blanket hugged you as your bedroom TV shuffled, looking for the perfect show to ease your nerves and help your slumber.
Your windows in your apartment were propped open, seeping the California sun into your room, you heard trees Russell and yelling, but the sounds only promoted your sleep. You eventually found yourself talking a well deserved
6 hour fucking nap. You were so refreshed when you woke up, you even stretched from the lack of movement for so long. As peaceful as it was, you were then disturbed from your moment of bliss. Looking at you watch to see 30 missed calls from Miguel, 10 from Jen, and 15 from Lyla. How you slept through so many calls, you have no idea.
But you knew once you got back to the Spider society, you were in for a rather rude awakening.
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You stood in front of the man's office your were too scared to approach, only being severely yelled out once. This time had to be worse, you sigh as Jess looks at you, she can tell you're tensed up as she rubs your shoulder. "Good luck, girl." She snickers, before turning around, and walking away. Caressing her belly in the process.
Did you forget to mention that she was pregnant? Yeah, what a surprise. But right now, you have bigger problems to worry about.. bigger.
You slowly peered through the door you opened, looking around for any surprise figure of Miguel as you walked in, cautiously strutting to the man who stood tense with anger on the platform, his fist balled, his stance laced with furry. You couldn't deny it anymore, you were terrified of this mans wrath.
Standing a good 20 feet away from the platform, you stare up as the floating platform lowered itself, very, very slowly.
"Miguel, look. I know that I probably worried you, but I promise I just needed a nap back home.. and I got caught up!" You confess, the words falling out from your mouth as Miguels platform reaches the bottom, you notice that he isn't moving from his position, the awkwardness suffocates you before you continue.
"Look, I got your favorite. Empanada-" You were then cut off by his red glow for webs catching onto the Styrofoam box filled with empanadas as he tossed them in the trash.
"Miguel! I payed for that-"
"You're so careless, so fucking careless."
His eyes meet yours before stepping off the platform, his tall, intimidating figure approaches you slowly. "Look, it was just a nap." You sigh, his ears perk up as he laughs. That was not a 'haha, so funny' laugh. That was a 'I'm about to loose my mind' laugh.
"I called you, thirty times. thirty times. How the hell could you not wake up from a blaring noise that rang thirty times!" His voice echos off his stone office walls, looking at you before raising an eyebrow. Oh, he expects an answer?
"Miguel, I'm bored! I have nothing else to commit to beside a coffee order with two pumps of French vanilla creamer and one sugar pack with blended ice."
"Do you think this job is a joke, muñeca?" His frame towers over you, your legs begin to feel weak, either you're scared or you find this somewhat hot, probably both. "Well, no of course not but it seems like all I'm good for is bringing you coffee and writing down notes. I have not fought by your side in 2 months!" You shout, only honesty escaping from your mouth as he nods, sarcastically. He grabs the closet thing to him, that wasn't myself but an office chair as he chunks it the the opposite Side of his office, making you flinch from the sudden crash.
"So you just want to be fired, am I correct?" Miguel seethes, looking down at you with his hands on his hips. His eyes hued red, and honestly you felt a little tingle from somewhere.. that you shouldn't "No! No. of course not! All I'm saying is a little more action would be nice." You explain, he sucks his teeth before pausing, standing this close to this man was a literal gift from God himself.
"How badly do you want this job, princesa?" His voice lowers an octave and you can tell your body is responding in ways it definitely shouldn't His big frame gets closer to you as he slowly, but surely backs you up into the nearest wall.
"Really bad, I swear!" your voice raises an octave, swallowing hard as his eyes level to yours, staring at your doe ones as you look in shame, he's trying to discipline you and you're getting off to it, you try to avoid his eye contact by turning your head in the opposite direction, but his right hand connects to your jaw, making you face him while squeezing your cheeks creating a small pout with your lips.
"So beg." With that tone, you know that he's being serious. Your eyes widen as he lets go of your jaw, before resting that hand to his side, standing up straight and peering now down at you. "What?" You mumble, your face laced with confusion and embarrassment.
"I don't like repeating myself, niñita." You don't know how you are still standing, at all. You look down, and keep quiet before he backs up just a little "I guess its not that important to-" He begins, but your head shifts upward as you shake your head.
"No! no. Just, please. I really want this job, Miguel." You voice weak as you look up at the man for his approval, he shakes his head in disappointment "Come on, is that really what you think begging is?" He snickers, you sigh in shame as you keep your eyes looked
"I really want this job Miguel, need it. Please, you don't know how much I want it, Miguel." Now, although that was rather weak for a beg. You're not going to be on your hands and knees begging for a job you barely get payed to do.
"You sound pathetic." The man laughs as you scoff, trying to get away from his rather scary build, he grabs your shoulder keeping you in place before speaking up "Tell me, ________. Why do you want this job so bad? You don't even get payed the desired amount." He smiles, you can tell he finds pleasure in seeing you embarrassed, pressing your buttons to get some sort of reaction out of you.
"And don't lie." His voice low, very low. His eyes are low as well, waiting patiently for your answer "I'm just bored here and its enough for rent, Miguel and-"
"You begged for your job back just because you're bored? sounds like a lie, ________." He pokes fun at you as you groan, giving him the answer that not only he wants to hear, but is also the truth
"and, because I get to be near you." you mumble, too ashamed to say out loud and to his face, he puts his hand to his ear "What was that, dear? Couldn't quiet hear-"
"and because I get to be near you." Your tone just a bit louder, but he accepts the effort, nodding with approval.
"Thought so, good job." He pats, so casually before turning around and approaching his platform. "What did you even call me thirty times for?" Your voice shoots back to the man and he answers, not turning around to look at you though.
"A coffee."
You look at his broad back side with disbelief plastered on your face, you hear a slight laugh escapes him as your fist ball "You made me beg for my job back because you wanted fucking coffee?!"
"I could tell you enjoyed it, Mrs. Pricesa."
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After all of, what happened. You really did not feel like facing Miguel, at all. You weren't mad, but embarrassed, and ashamed. You decided to occupy yourself around the building, this probably would've been a more appropriate time to take a nap.
It's fairly late, you think about just sleeping in the sleeping hub in the building. But you were starving, and a nice desert really was in your taste for right now. You walk to the cafeteria, that closes in about a half an hour.
You approach the counter before looking at the desert section of the menu, you feel the cafeteria staff's eyes upon you as you figure out what your taste buds desire for tonight. "Can I get the chocolate molten lava cake, with a scoop of ice cream on top?" You asks, the lunch lady gives you a hum with a smile before writing down your order and giving it to the kitchen staff, she rings up your total to fifteen dollars as you internally sigh, giving her a 20 dollar bill in Nueva currency, she hands you 5 Nueva currency.
You found the Nueva currency rather stupid, but Miguel said since everyone here is from different dimensions with different currency it’s needed.
You patiently waited to the side, the kind lady gives you your cake as you give her a smile, taking the cake box along with a plastic spoon and napkin, eating the sweet treat while walking towards a booth, planning on enjoying this desert while you can.
You're a few bites into the chocolate goodness as your watch rings, you role you eyes seeing as its an incoming call from Miguel, which isn't rare. You tap the answer button, as his voice rings through your ears.
"_________. I need you at Earth-1610 in Queens, New York. There's a vulture in the wrong dimension." Miguel sounds almost out of breath, you groan as you respond with annoyance. "Can I at least finish my cake? Damn." You sigh, taking another bite of your cake while waiting for an answer. You hear the man scoff before adding "¿Esperabas una respuesta? Llegar aquí ahora!" Although you know absolutely no Spanish, You know when he speaks in Spanish, especially in that tone, he means bushiness. You walk up to the lady at the cafeteria, politely asking her to hold on to the leftover cake as you tap your watch, opening up the multiverse portal.
You jump through the portal, going on that unneccesary slide before reaching the opening to the dimension Earth-65, you see what seems to be the vulture Miguel ranted about as your webs interlock with the base of his body.
"_______, we don't have time for grand entrances!”Miguel yells as your figure emerges from the portal, doing two 360's before throwing the vulture against the museum's stone walls. Even though that was somewhat badass, your landing is flawed as your body is thrown towards the stone wall inches were Miguel is standing, your groan as your hands immediately reach the back of your head, where the injury occurred.
You hear Miguel snicker as you look in his direction with disbelief plastered on your face, he looks at you before trying to hide what you heard to be, a laugh.
"Are you seriously laughing right now?" Your eyebrows burrowed and mouth agape as you find yourself having to look directly up at the big man. "No- no. I'm not laughing." He coughs as your features rest, showing only a face of annoyance "Miguel, I could have a concussion and you think this shit is funny." You dead pan as he shakes the smile off his face, looking at you again before attempting to cover up a laugh "No, prissy. Im really, really worried." You could sense the tears welding in the corner of his eyes, trying to fight back the instinct to laugh at such a painful event
"Miguel, it hurt!" You groan from the pain, standing up to your feet as you wipe the stone dust off your pink suit, "I bet it did." Miguel says, wiping the tears that threatened to spill. You roll your eyes before turning to what seemed to be a Spiderwomen approaching you "I thought it was pretty badass, but it would be better if you landed." The girl in the white suit states her opinion that has Miguel pacing back in forth trying to control the laugh that's about to take over
"I do not need your guy's unwanted criticism! Do you remember that you called me-"
"Okay, okay, just... whew." Miguel pauses, you feel your hands trembling from the embarrassment that courses your veins, you also begin to notice the vulture who awoken from his rather quick sleep.
"Can we just please get back to the real problem here." The white Spiderwomen advises as you side eye Miguel, he smiles before nodding and approaching the vulture that awoke from his slumber.
All three of you guys glide in the air, trying to find the perfect time to strike, the white Spiderman connects her webs to the vultures face, before kicking the vulture in his beak. You are know running aside Miguel, basically just chasing him as you look at the Spiderwomens combat moves, that have impressed you.
"What about her?" You suggest, looking at Miguel as he gives you the quickest answer he has asked in a while "No."
"We could use the help, y'know with Jess-" You begin to speak but are cut off with another, what?
"No."
"Is it 'cause she called you Dark Garfield?" You snicker to yourself, Miguel looks at you but you couldn't tell how he was feeling with that mask on. "No! -How do you even know?"
"Do you say anything but no?" You retort, the man still looking at you with what felt to be annoyance speaks up "No-no. I mean Yes!" Your eyebrows raised in suspicion as you continue "Why not!" You bark at the angry old beast, "You know why." He seethes, keeping his eyes locked on you before he jumps on the paper vulture, you following his lead.
"Take a good look at the great fire from my backpack!" You hear the vultures voice for what seems like the first time and you ears want to pass away, he sounds ungodly old, suddenly, a random bomb that probably came from the depths of his ass is released to the top of the museum, exploding and causing a drastic crash and a open hole from the top of the art building.
You’re having trouble fitting on his body when Miguels bigger one is hogging up the space
"Miguel, scoot! I can't fit!" You shout, moving him on your own as he groans in annoyance "Scoot and go where?!"
"Is this some type of canon romance trope or-" The vulture instigates, before you could even think to respond to the vulture, Miguel answers for you "No!" like he always says, the vulture side eyes you and all you can make out is a tiny shrug to your shoulders
"Don't let him out!" He turns to you, noting the opening to the ceiling "He'll disrupt the canon!" That's all Miguel has to say before your florescent webs connect with the walls of museum, making your way up to attempt to stop the creature from leaving, but his too fast for you. As your in the air away from the museum, the building begins to glitch violently, Miguel jumps on the creature as I do trying to force its way back into the museum
"Claw at it or something!" You panic looking towards Miguel who's struggling to keep his weight on the vulture with you by his side, all of the sudden when the creature was going to claw Miguel off of him his fangs come out, his mouth open threatening to bite the beast, you can see the fear laced in not only yours, but the vultures eyes as this has never happened to you when you were around Miguel.
"Go to the ground!" You look above you to see the bright shining light of a helicopter, your eyebrows furrow in confusion as Miguel claps back in what seemed to be anger "Will you get out of here!"
"We have you surrounded!" The helicopters voice booms throughout the city and I can't help but laugh, Miguel looks at me with anger as I look back "Miguel- they think you're the villain." You aren't like Miguel, you don't try to cover up the laugh that comes from you, Miguel scoffs before looking at the big vehicle above him.
"I am a good guy!" Miguel emphasizes, you wipe the tears in the corners of your eyes. "You don't look like one." The helicopter judges, you notice in the corner of your eyes, two bombs escape the vulture as your eyes widen.
"Miguel!"
"NO!" Miguel shouts as the bombs look to be connecting with the base of the judgmental helicopter, you notice it begins to loose control and hits you and Miguel off the vulture, before taking a rather brutal fall along with the creature. You crash on the base of the floor before looking around you to see multiple people still in the museum, you get up in agony before sticking your webs to the base of the museum wall and collecting as many bystanders off the ground before throwing them out.
You rush back into the building as you notice the helicopter taking a tumble down, but you also notice Gwen making what looks to you as a net. You smile with a nod, expressing approval before jumping with all your might and latching onto the museum wall.
You notice the people still inside the helicopter as you jump through to get them, holding them with before looking eyes with Miguel and releasing them. Miguel grabs a hold on them with his red glow for webs as he holds them to his side, like he would two twin toddlers.
You notice Gwen trying to strain the helicopters movement as you run along Miguels side before jumping and finishing the webbed net as quickly as you possibly could and tugging at the web, trying to make it as strong and durable as possible.
You stand on the ledge of the museum's second floors as your feet begin to strain, and slide. You position yourself to a point where you could pull harder as the uncontrollable helicopter comes in comes in contact with the net, You stare down at the floor to look at all the idiot who still stand there. You internally scoff, but to your luckiness the helicopter web net actually worked. You sigh in relief as you connect your web to the ledge of the second floor before jumping away and towards Miguel, who picks up the vulture in his webs and looking at you.
"That's what I was going to do."
You roll your eyes before looking at the exhausted girl who stepped down from where she was standing before taking a fall into rubble with a groan. Miguel and you make your way, with no rush to her aid. Before hearing what seemed to be a cop.
"Hands in the air!" Is all you could make out, you try to approach the situation, but Miguel grabs ahold of your hand, pulling you back just incase he intends on arresting you two as well.
You stand there, silently. Hand to hand as you listen to the cops conversation. You notice your hands begin to tremble from the mans hold as he looks down at you, skeptical. "Don't tell me you're nervous right now, _________." He leans down to whisper in your ear. Maybe you were! Well, you were but you definitely aren't going to tell him.
"No, I am not. Is it really neccesary to hold my hand right now?" You mumble, he turns to you and shrugs before pulling his hand away, and thank God himself you have at least 2 braincells because a part of you wanted to beg for his hand back against yours.
"Get down on the ground!" The cops voice sounds fierce, you look at Miguel skeptical as you whisper to him "Maybe we should help her, Miguel." He shakes his head, no. You sigh through your nose as you listen to their faint conversation before a gun shot erupts through you and Miguel's eardrums, your eyes go wide as you try to run towards where the spider women is, attempting to make sure she's alright.
Miguel, now grips your arm. You look down at the way his hand envelopes your arm before peering up at him. "You seriously don't expect me to sit and watch when a gunshot was just heard!" You whisper yell at Miguel as his figure bores into yours.
"Im not asking you, I'm telling you." His town is low and deep as he pulls you against him, this time your figure is before him and he's behind you. Grabbing ahold of your shoulder like you are a child.
"I don't need your permission, Miguel." You sigh, you begin to sense his eyes perching your figure as you begin to feel hot, and nervous. "Last time I checked, you begged for your job, right? Don't loose it, muñeca." His tone warns as you groan. In the crevice of rubble, you see her figure, with her mask off.
Through the next three minute conversation the cop and the spider women had, all you knew is that that cop is her dad, and she apparently murdered a man named Peter.
"Dad are you really this afraid of me!?" Her voice booms across the shattered building, you can feel the tears threatening to fall as her voice quivers, Miguel notices, too.
He begins to walk, his hands still rest on your shoulders as you get closer to the conversation, the only thing hiding you and Miguel from the cops eye of vision is a stone wall fragment.
Your breath hitches as you see the girls full face and body, the only thing you could describe as hurt.
"-against the court of law, you have the right to an attorney." The cop begins to list her rights, as you would usually do during an arrest. His gun is pointed low as he pierces his eyes towards the girl known as his daughter.
"No, stop!" She yells as she tries to approach the man she considers her dad, his voice booms across the museum as she stops in her tracks
"Don't get any closer!" The dad points his gun towards his daughter, and right then and there Miguel removes his grasp from your shoulders before his webs reach out to take the gun. He jumps forward before sliding an electronic field towards the mans feet. Keeping him Locked inside the red diamond shape border.
You leap your way towards the Spider women, as she tries to approach her dad who is struggling to get out.
"Hey, no. Just breath." You advise, you know it's not helping but that's all the words your mouth can form.
"We got you, right Miguel?" You question as your body enveloped the girls before you, she sobs as you hold her, like a motherly figure. All Miguel does is sigh as he grabs ahold of the trapped vulture while opening the portal.
"Lyla, scan this mess." Miguel mumbles, Lyla does as she was advised before responding to the big man "No further anomalies, canon remains intact." She Informs, Miguel nods before standing up with the vulture in is grasp, you approach Miguel with guilt in your eyes as you take off your mask, your hair flowing down to its respected place.
"We can't just leave her here, Miguel. She's doing this on her own." Your voice is filled with remorse you look back as she stares at her dad with the most heart breaking face you've seen in a while, Miguel looks back at the scene as well. Studying their features before finally speaking up. "Yeah, you're right." He utters as your eyebrows raise. You've never, ever heard that fraise escape his mouth. Internally, you are cheering. But externally, your face just has a smile plastered to it.
"Well, join the club." Miguel replies, passing her the Spider Society travel watch as he peers back at you, you nod in approval as he throws the vulture back into the portal and strides in himself. You follow close behind him as you still keep eyes on the girl.
The Spiderwomen observes the watch and her dad for what felt like hours before running towards the portal and following you back to what you call home.
All you can think now is what you once called a trio, is now a group.
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suengmi · 1 year
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✧ the mirror doesn't lie ✧ 3k, m
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this wasn't about chan's validation to your body. it's about your own. it was about how you felt, not how someone else did. it didn't matter than chan loved your body. it mattered that you did.
pairing: chan x fem!reader (plus size/curvy reader with tattoos) genre: angst/hurt, romance, nonidol!au, chan/reader are graphic designers warnings: please be aware this fic is on the topic of certain health/eating disorders and body issues etc. warnings are under the cut! pls be safe!! lapslock and mostly proof read (this is kind of like a love letter to all you thicc baddies, fuck everyone else.) ♡please reblog if you liked! it rly helps and i love to hear your feedback♡
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!!warnings!!
mentions/implications of sex, eating disorders, descriptions of food, negative implied weight discussions, fatphobia, mentions of purging/vomiting (no acts done in fic) of any of this triggers you please don't read! ❤️
-
you were never uncomfortable in your body. if anything, you celebrated all of your curves and slopes. it was a blessing to to have this beautiful figure, large chest and hips matching with your full pouty lips.
the mirror doesn't lie, but sometimes the lighting does. when you glance in the mirror, just leaning over the sink, you notice the softness of your neck, the way it gently sits on the slant of your jaw bone. you run your finger along the side of your cheek, the plush flesh sinking in with your touch.
a sigh leaves you, knowing the weight of the words your co-workers rang in your ears. 'we're trying to help you, you'll feel better,' they said, 'if you lost a few kilos, your jaw line would would be stunning if it showed.'
they coated it by saying they'd be able to see your face more, your 'beauty'. as if you weren't already stunning.
in other words, you were ugly. you were not the ideal. gentle gaslighting in their words, laced with fucked up ideas of singular ways of beauty and fatphobia.
you weren't stupid, you knew this was all rooted in the capitalist ideals of beauty culture, fucked up ways to make women into barbie dolls and control them. it was tempting, just to see what it was like to be viewed in the way society wants you, validation pouring into your cup until it runs over.
you hang your head, maybe i should try it.
maybe. just to see what it's like.
-
tiredness was in your eyes, dark circles barely covered by concealer and setting powder. you were a shell, hunger making you irritated the more the days went on. some days you'd just sleep, body overtaken by lack of energy. other days you'd fill yourself up with fizzy drink, laying on the couch scrolling through your phone mindlessly.
your co-worker chan sits across from you, eyeing the coke zero and apple sitting in front of you untouched.
"not hungry?" he asks, slurping a mouth full of noodles as he draws with one hand on the mouse.
chan is somewhere in between some design sketches, half concentrating on you and half on the monitor. one of your favourite things about chan was his smile, the cute way his cheeks lifted and how they pushed up his glasses. he'd always complain about the way they sat but never did anything about it. sometimes, his tongue would stick out just a little bit to the side when he was in the zone. it was your favourite thing.
you shake your head, mind failing to muster up the energy to concentrate on anything. "nah, had a big brekky."
that was a lie.
chan says nothing, eyes glancing up you. he pulls his lips in, mouth curling at the side.
-
a few mornings after, you arrive at your work desk. there's a small tupperware container, sitting just at the front of your keyboard. there's no writing, just a small little heart on the front of the paper. you plop down to your chair, legs running on nothing but an iced latte.
it's food. the one thing you've been avoiding. but who's it from?
you open the box a large sandwich cut into a love heart. it's absolutely adorable, you almost don't want to think about eating it.
"hey chaaaan..." you begin, moving the sandwich around to admire it. it's cute. "did you see anyone leave this at my desk?"
chan shrugs, looking up at you from his adjacent desk just in front of yours, sipping on his orange juice. "i dunno, haven't seen anyone."
"weird." you say curiously, placing it back down.
-
it's been a week, every morning you're met with something new. yesterday was a hearty salad, with salsa dressing. the day before a stir fry, a small note with a heart every time. it has you confused, maybe someone had noticed you weren't eating. is it that obvious?
but this one morning, you decided to go in early to begin on a a large project your company was beginning on. you were actually thrilled about the current work, loving the fact that you were in charge of it this time. unfortunately, your lack of energy had you so damn tired. it had been three weeks since you started this so called diet, you weren't sure you could do it much longer.
when you arrive to the office there's no one there, but some of the lights are on. maybe someone had the same idea. you make your way to the bathroom, dizziness swarming inside your body.
the mirror is the enemy you say to yourself, sighing as you lean on the counter. your company had never been formal, so you were happy to be able to wear whatever you pleased. your tee, now less tight across your chest, and black shorts not as snug as they once were on your waist. two more belt sizes down and you'd need a new one.
it was working... but at what cost?
the sound of feet shuffling enters your ears, your body automatically creeping over to inspect the noise. you lean around the corner of the bathroom, holding onto the door frame for balance.
it's chan, but he has something in his hands.
curiously, you inch forwards, not wanting to disturb him. here he is, placing a small box down in front of your computer. it's a small purple container, a banana placed down next to it. chan steps back, nodding to himself as he goes around to his desk. he looks kind of sad, like he's mourning something.
you don't want to make it obvious, so you rustle as you make your way to your desk, acting as if you didn't just see the man placing food on your keyboard.
"oh shit, hi." chan says, eyes wide with surprise. he clears his throat, eyes darting around. "when did you get here?"
"hmm a while ago, was just in the bathroom." you say standing to your desk. you look down at the package, your heart suddenly swelling.
chan knew, he knew this whole time. he noticed it when no one else did.
a few of your co-workers had mentioned your weight loss but you just insisted it wasn't anything new you were doing. knowing full well it was lies escaping your throat with every syllable. chan had always frowned, exiting the conversation quietly.
"did you... see someone?" you say gesturing to the item on your desk.
"hm? me? nope, nah." he shrugs, lips pouting. "i just got here."
that was a lie, he had been here for a while. the iced tea on his table nearly finished told it all, a few rings of water along the front of his desk.
you nod slowly, taking a seat. your head spins for a moment, neck giving out as you hang your head low.
"i, uh," chan begins, clearing his throat, "have a some tim tam cake, if you want it?"
you hadn't eaten in thirty hours, only thing your body running on was coffee and desperation. a small snack wouldn't hurt, your body needed something. anything. you didn't care if it was sweets. your mouth watered at the thought.
"who eats cake in the morning?"
"me." chan smiles, eyes crinkling at the sides. "c'mon, have some."
"alright then, i'll try." you say, leaning forwards.
chan scoops the cake with his spoon and holds his hand forwards, other underneath to catch any fallout. you take the spoon in your mouth, letting the food slide in. it tastes like heaven. you missed this so much, body practically jolting at the sugar rush.
chan smiles widely, eyes lighting up as you enjoy your food, your eyes closing for a moment to savour it. before you know it he has another spoon full sitting at your mouth, hands gesturing for you to take one more bite. he says nothing as he continues to feed you, his smile gentle and warm.
the sudden carb rush has you feeling weird, your body adjusting to the foreign intake.
"it's so good, who made it?" you speak with your mouth full, chocolate on the sides of your mouth.
"i did." he smiles without his teeth, handing you the last piece. you look down at the plate, realising you've eaten the whole slice. shit.
"i ate the whole thing, oh my god i'm sorry."
"dont be sorry, i have plenty more."
you smile, chocolate on your teeth. chan just laughs, pointing to your face. "you look cute with chocolate on your teeth."
you gasp, hand covering you mouth. "chan! stop."
the heavy weight of food in your stomach fills you, your body rushing with energy the more time goes on. it feels amazing, you forgot what this was like. the last few weeks without proper food having you appreciating every taste.
-
it's around lunch when chan asks you go to go to the cafe around the corner. you need some energy, a coffee will do. you've eaten enough for today.
"sure." you smile, grabbing your bag. you've got to avoid food this time, it's too much.
when you arrive at the cafe, chan spots a seat, slinging his tote bag on the back of the chair. "they've got this amazing ham and cheese croissant, i'll get you one."
"but-" you begin, but he's already off to wait in line.
anxiety jolts in your tummy. how would you avoid this? maybe say you just feel sick, that the chocolate cake has your stomach feeling funny. anything. chan sits across from you, a few minutes later with a coffee and some other drink in his had.
"i'm not that hungry." you say, fingers scrolling through something in your phone.
"you are." he says, tone a little serious.
you look up at him, his eyes trained on your own. he stares at you, lips curling to the side. "i know you're not eating."
"ah, yes i have." you gest, eyebrows raised. "of course i have, i have."
"you wouldn't be over justifying it if you had been."
the words sound harsh. it's almost like a feeling of bitterness, a throbbing stings in your skull.
"i was just like, watching what i was eating. that's all." you shrug, taking a sip of your iced latte.
"not eating is not watching what you eat."
you've never seen him this serious, but there still a softness in his voice. you're thankful it's coming from him, otherwise you'd probably be crying by now.
"why are you being so... mean? it's not your business." you scorn, emotions feeling high from your mood swings.
"i'm not being mean... i just want you to eat."
the words are gentle, forlorn expression on his face. his bluntness surprises you.
you sit in silence, eyes avoiding his. the waiter brings over your food a couple of minutes later, you're thankful for the intrusion, but now you have to eat. it's like you've forgotten.
chan digs in, not waiting a second to eat. his eyes are looking at your food, then back at you.
"eat." he says, almost commanding, mouth full of food.
fuck it. you think, grabbing the knife and fork beside the plate.
before you know it you've finished the whole plate. the fullness of your stomach just a little bit too much, but you love the feeling. it feels amazing, your body rushing with dopamine. the more you eat the more he smiles, happy you finally have something in your stomach. what he doesn't know is the sick urge you have to release it all when you get back to the office.
-
you're hunched over the toilet, hair pulled back by your fist as you attempt to empty your stomach. something tells you to stop, you just can't do it. your body isn't allowing it.
in defeat, you flush the toilet. your legs are cold from the bathroom tiles, lines dented into your knees. you leave the stall, wiping the side your mouth with the back of your hand.
a figure startles you, your eyes widen at the intrusion.
"chan! shit, you scared me." you half laugh, walking to the sink to wash your hands. the man says nothing as he steps behind you. you look at him through the mirror, his eyes searching your body up and down.
"you know what i think?" he questions quietly, manoeuvring himself to stand behind you. his hands raise to your hips, resting gently on the curve.
the touch confuses you, your mind fuzzy from the retching. the feeling of his fingers running across your skin tingles, hands making their way just underneath your shirt.
"do you?" he asks again, chin resting on your shoulder. he's not too much taller than you, but enough to tower the slightest bit.
"no..." you say, voice slightly shaking.
"look." he says to you, nodding towards the mirror. "do you know how sexy you are?"
a red hue appears across your cheeks, ears tingling with embrassment. you go to move but chan holds you in place.
"hm?" he hums, pressing a small kiss on your neck. "tell me."
you shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut.
"you wanna know else what i think?" he chuckles, hold on your firmer.
"yeah." you breathe, hot flushes running through your body.
"i think you look so fucking hot when you walk, your hips are mesmerising. especially in these black mini shorts. even now, your eyes puffy and red, you look so cute."
"chan, we're at work." you mumble, hands covering your mouth. you feel him move closer, hands snaking their way around your waist to press into the plush flesh.
"fuck everyone else." he says, kissing your neck once more.
before he leaves you in your daze he leans to your ear, speaking ever so softly. "the thought of my cock between your lush full thighs sits in my mind, my hands on your chest, lips on yours.. it's all i think about."
-
it's not as if you and chan hadn't talked about it. you were always against work relationships, saying it would eventually end in a mess. he had asked you out a few times, but every time, you had turned him down. it was mutual, of course, a few staff parties you had snuck off to make out, all giggles and kisses, drunken talks about how much you wanted each other. you put it down to just the alcohol and nothing else.
one thing you noticed was how chan had always commented on how nice you looked, how he loved the vine of your tattoos peeping out from your tees. he enjoyed the black and grey tartan pants you would wear a lot, fitting perfectly on your ass and hips. pants that sat on your smaller waist and larger hips were so hard to find. they're probably a bit over worn at this point.
when you think about it, maybe he was right. the worm of this fucked up beauty standard culture wriggling it's way in. actually, you knew he was right. this wasn't about chans validation to your body. it's about your own. it was about how you felt, not how someone else did. it didn't matter than chan loved your body. it mattered that you did.
this was ridiculous, the idea that you needed to fit into something smaller.
clothes are made to fit you, not to fit them.
-
the light of the morning sun through the clouds hits your eyes as you enter the office. it's nice, warm on your skin. today, you decided to wear a purple crop top, black shorts with buckles down the side showing off your swerves, your arms and beautifully designed tattoos on display, if you paid so much money for them, you should show them off.
when you sit at your desk, there's, of course, another box.
you pick up the note on top, it reads: do it for yourself♡
what chan had said yesterday; you can't help but love the validation of your body, you're human after all.
but, last night you hit a turning point. slightly ashamed of how you let yourself succumb to the beauty standards when you of all people were self aware and smart enough to know it's all about profit and control. it's not worth it, the consistent struggle. why on earth were you being hard on yourself when society already is? it's hard, living in a world where control is the norm. there is already so much pressure on you, on everything you do. you start to feel sorry for your co-workers, how stupid they must be to fall for it.
fuck everyone else.
it rings in your mind, chan's right.
fuck everyone else.
chan approaches his desk, hands on the back of his chair.
"i dunno who that came from." he says, pointing to the box. "gotta be a cutie though."
you let out a pretend shock, hand on your chest. "oh absolutely, and he cooks well. damn, a catch."
"oh yeah." chan says, tapping his mouth in thought. "seems like a good to date kinda person, very dateable."
"if only i could be persuaded to date someone at work, if only." you say as you lean back, sighing dramatically.
chan stands up straight, realising this is his moment. "should i quit? i'll quit."
you laugh, his expression is cute, eyes wide and brows raised higher than you've ever seen, he really wanted this. so you give in, allowing him to do a little dance of excitement when you say yes to the question he never asked.
"but!" you pause, "only if you make more tim tam cake."
he stands to attention, hand flat on his head like he's saluting. "will do."
the journey to self love isn't finite, nor is a linear. it doesn't matter that you slipped, it's okay to feel like that sometimes. but with chan by your side, you know it'll be easier.
-
a/n: sorry this took so long (as always) but at one point i'm sure we've all struggled with body issues. if this triggered you, please seek help or feel free to message me! i'm not a psychologist by any means but i do understand the struggle, helps to not feel so alone. remember that all beauty standards are built in structures to control people, especially afab women. so yah this is kind of a love letter to all my plus/fat/curvy babes, you're all so fucking HOT and ur tummys are a BLESSING, remember that pls <3
in the wise words of a'keria davenport:
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chezzabellesworld · 1 month
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Heroin addiction hello,
this is me my name is heroin, I am more expensive than gold, but you will pay more for me. I’m like a diamond you want me you you wanna wear me you wanna wear me all over your body you wanna be me you wanna be inside my body, you want me to take the pain away like a hug like a hug used to do like a kiss like being in love used to, my name is Cherry and I’m a heroin addict I’m not some 12 stepper I kind of wish I was so I kind of wish I didn’t get the vibe that it was a cult , but maybe it is but who said all Colts are bad well this person right here was see. I’m also autistic I have a strong time of the past, I’ll tell you what this addiction has taken everything away from me. Let’s go back and let’s go back to 10 years ago. Roughly let’s go to the 3rd of December 2012 when I met this man who to this day, I can’t get out of my head see this man🕰️ introduced me to this awful awful thing, but at the same time he kept me away distance control. Yes I get it on the first night I met this man me off my feet. I was telling him about my situation ship and he was very compassionate. He was very understanding and it sort of Started there and went on the next five years, I was hooked line and sinker .
So the first night I met this man he was with my friend I met with, and I can still tell you everything about it that night it had to be one of the best nights of my life as I sit here now with tears in my eyes, five years later, I remembering things when I write, I wanted to be writer when I write I want to I remember And I started my life story again I’ve been with him for awhile see you inspired me be a bad person being with me and made me wanna be better and we had this little secret but let’s go back to the question because I’m very good at track no drugs happened it was just drinking Maybe smoking weed because I did back then but I was just talking it was like talking to someone I’d know my whole life and when you’re autistic this doesn’t happen often I hadn’t been diagnosed then but he had both bonded over the fact that we both had personality disorders and that we didn’t fit into society boxes, but now as I see it, I see it. I do but This man had a complete control over me. He had literally just had a baby with somebody who he’d been with for 10 years. He told me it was over, but yet they just had a baby a month prior premature, I didn’t want to take this woman’s man I didn’t want to take away this father, so I said don’t chase me, so on the days that he saw his child up at the hospital still, he would come back really quickly like he hadn’t even been there at all. I know that he had a premature baby. Yes I do I don’t know the whole truth of it I never will Until years though, when I spoke to his ex and I still don’t know the whole truth and why the fuck should she have to tell me anyway but all night he painted her is a villain same as I did with my ex yes as a personality disorder, everyone else is a bad guy You never the bad guy until it all comes tumbling down and you hate yourself and you wanna cut yourself or burn yourself so I trigger on this post but I have to say this I have to be honest with myself I must’ve liked it the fact that my family my family was born into because I don’t have kids that’s another sad part of this story is, I can’t Maybe it’s sick but there you go. They treat this man as an outcast just as much as I treated me as an outcast. I feel he wasn’t allowed to my sisters birthday party even though my sister was married to a literal word rapist still in prison for it now, and all the other sick things he did And my ex or right through this, of course I’ve noticed can also see crazy people who are crazy can always see crazy and others. Neurotypical are very selfish people. The first time I met him. He didn’t use her when he told me about it. apparently he told me about it and anyway I told him not to choose me over his child. Anyway he did we were texting all the time I was texting him. He was writing me love i never had this in my entire life. He literally swept me off my feet and the good thing that happened at the beginning of our relationship was that I went away for a week two days after we met Which made me want him more and vice versa now he probably did stuff I’ve heard he might of he’s married now to this girl. He slagged off for years and shagged. The sister who is 17 when we were together together what we broke up we didn’t properly broke up, but we broke up This is where the comes in we’re living in accommodated living for people who are not very well addicts mentally ill and so on. Anyway, many of the nights I would sneak into his room through the window or he sneak into mine and would lie bad faith, even if there was cameras. Oh he hasn’t asked your random stuff like this and I’ll be like it has. I’ve gone to bed, and obviously it was the most exciting time of my life. I was 23 years 22 years old and absolutely in love. Yes I know they got married at the age of 17 but it wasn’t part. Of course it was in my res autistic and everything was always more dramatic. The next time I’m bigger and better also I thought crazy so we end up getting kicked out of this facility I live there for a year I hadn’t really stayed there. I’d stayed in my mum, still even though she di
So things got out of hand that I’ve got made homeless I’m looking back now I thought it was so unfair and at the time I thought it was unfair. People who got made homeless shouldn’t have got made home as really people who this is all they had and the man I’m with now With living in the shed house with my ex there is four of the houses two of them staffed two of them not! so my partner was in a house without staff and then got put into the room next to me in the staff house which I was in me and my partner and I said maybe it was a distraction from my ex and his past, I will never know the full extent of.
So heroin heroin you ask how did it come into it well slowly that’s what I’ll say slowly he came back one day in a really really bad mood. This is before we got kicked out and started smoking on the bed. I’ve never been a situation I’ve been around hard before and it made me very uncomfortable, especially because I hadn’t touched them so I felt embarrassed and obliged this time I didn’t. I felt safe I felt safe with him. I just did so here it goes we move out and by this point before I go with him I will say I was addicted to sleeping pills on and off and opiates pill, but only pills so I sort of being there, but I wasn’t in the world of dealers drug addicts, horrible people debt, losing friends, and emotionally and because of the addiction. No nothing was that bad yet was destined for this maybe probably who knows I don’t I don’t even know so I will never forget the day I did it because it made life, so like it made sense for the first time in my life. It just made sense everything fit into place. Everything was like this is what it’s meant to be and this is how I should feel it wasn’t overwhelming how I thought it was meant to be, and this is how it traps you guys so don’t do it, it just felt like I had found the key to a door that had been locked 22 years and I had found that key. Obviously not a drug use. very narcissistic you really don’t think it’s gonna be you you just don’t you don’t think it’s going to be you in 1 million years even when you told me all these things via my ex when he told me this is what it’s like. I’m depressed now I can’t feel without it sex drive it fuck it fuck the way you connect with people you lose that connection and when you’re autistic anyway that is hard to have by the beginning it makes that all possible it makes you have emotion it makes you connect it makes you feel like you are invincible, and I always thought the word heroine became from the hero within, it kind of makes sense, wouldn’t it.
So the first time I used it, I smoked it we were living in one of his friends house in the spare bedroom that was freezing cold and the guy was addicted to it. The wife wasn’t they had two children. They had three children but the two children were in the room next to the dad, who is addicted really bad day and ill And this was the first place I used it they thought I was just normal. They didn’t think I touched so when I asked to try it one time when I got kicked off Valium which as you know it’s not very good I’ve got put on after a bad experience. Grape grape by my ex, and it was a short term thing, but I felt awful and I was hallucinating and I was in a really weird way and I also still appealed from my other exes house which led me to be really drooling and off my head and not remembering things in this house anyway, so that’s where I first tried it and for that year when we were living from house to house of people and Sophie spare rooms whatever, was the most exciting time of my life. It was an adventure that I’ve never been in. It was some kind of life experience that I needed for that time, but it led to this really scary time that I live in now so would I take it back? I’m not too sure i’ll lose all these memories, but then I won’t be attached to it so much either. Yeah I’d probably take it because the people I know now I really don’t wanna know I’m telling you something, there’s a lot of really dodgy men in this world who will try and proposition you for sex for money or they will try and do things to you the amount of times I’ve had men do things to me that dodgy sexually, I can’t even fathom it’s very sad, no one should have to go through that. made me feel so protected from the heroin all of it the relationship with that felt amazing, We lived from moment to moment we bonded so deeply our moon 🌙 signs very compatible. we shared everything let’s say so in the five years 2 1/2 of them are good 2 1/2 of them really bad but let’s say this was really severe case of grooming two that felt good though it felt really good because it came with the drugs and it came with the reward system that your brain creates of Doberman, but after a while your break your brain needs a pleasure and reward centre to survive. It’s like breathing it felt amazing. I felt so good every time I felt so good he he controlled my habits so I didn’t get too bad so I would get high probably off. Let’s say £10 worthb or £20 worth a day, maybe less let’s say less.
Eventually, my family obviously found out because I’m a very honest person and I like why did you say that I’ve noticed addicts are very dishonest people, scum of the Earth and I can’t stand them and they can’t stand me either. They do not like me and I think my ex knew this about them that they wouldn’t like me because he did all the messaging and calls to these people I didn’t know these people were so uptight about a text message, but they are absolutely ridiculous, I wasn’t used to this level of paranoia unless it was in your mind none of these people give a shit about you. I’m talking as 33-year-old me now and not 22-year-old man. It’s been over 10 years can you believe it because I can I mean it could be another lifetime ago and it could be yesterday 22-year-old didn’t know about this. Didn’t know this rule it’s uptight don’t do that and I honestly I hate these people honestly I’m miserable it’s not good for me I’m constantly sad,😔 yeah I mean the end of last year I going to join this astrology course and I have a teacher now at this woman I listen to for years on YouTube who I love I love her way of teaching listening to her on YouTube she was so good at going into it all. I looked up with Darkside zodiac and I found her but anyway I’m gonna tell her I lost friends in my opinion, so basically when I was younger, I was a bit of a goody-goody so that transition into hard-core addict who thought she was Courtney Love and Kurt Cobain with her boyfriend was obviously a massive shock to my friends and family I’m guessing constantly asking for money this day,
They didn’t realise this world opened up, a whole box of things that made me feel better, but a whole shit load of a basement full of crap that came with it. They won’t so yeah, I was a goody goody I didn’t really drink. I didn’t do this I didn’t do that, but I was fun. I was a happy shy girl And I would join in and have a laugh with my friends we would get the stone high part when I used to bring school in into school my sister’s part into my friend and he smoked I didn’t even smoke. Then I didn’t even feel the pressure to smoke. So yeah this was a massive personality change I guess so I always went from group group I was always a bit of a drifter.! point of sticking a needle in my arm, I wasn’t bad in fact I was the opposite of a bad arse you could say but as he has went on things happened and you meet people, my best friend who I be my best friend from the age of 10 made her be my best friend until she agreed. She was my best friend from me from me, her being sick of me, trying to ask it probably so I made my first love through her years later 18 years old and he was just schizophrenic and I even got warned off him which was probably the right idea cause this is where my first mental break happened a few years after that so this is why is slowly threatened to do law, and my personality was really changing, and I guess it was very scary for the people around me, so I’d have relationships with people friends whatever, but it always felt forced with this man. It never felt forced. It felt natural, and he would convince me that these people wanted to hurt me, or they weren’t good enough for me or they for I wasn’t good enough for them. He was very clever very very very clever he had me believing all of this shit and so it still this day is in and I can’t get rid of and I think anyone who’s been in a abusive relationship will feel this.
I have put a lot of pressure on my family. I feel like I am loving girl but I don’t have a family like the rest of them all my sisters have children. My brother is happy in a relationship. He is with someone for 11 years and he was very very happy even though he’s my older brother he sometimes feels like my younger brother because he’s so more innocent and I was innocent like he was too Very similar. In fact he was more of a rebel than I was saying I think I wanted to rebel so badly because I never had the opportunity. I mean the first guy I slept with gave me herpes if you want to talk about bad luck, but I thought it was a bad ass then because I was going out of a guy from Bangladesh who was a Muslim who had a restaurant well he didn’t have the restaurant who I was fucking in his restaurant And I thought I was cool. I was getting free curries and then I went to the next shop up the road and it was a Turkish guy who had a gorgeous green eyes. I was obsessed with being in love and not with English man. I thought English men were trash they never fancied me in school. I never had boyfriends, and I lost my virginity at 16.
 so my friends now anyway, who I lost I’ve tried to bring back into my life but they’re not perfect either. I’m not saying they’re perfect but they weren’t drug Alex and we weren’t into people like that. They don’t know anything about people like that when I tell them about the things that have been degraded too, I’m in the last three years I didn’t leave my house because of a sexual assault kind of thing again And it’s very very scary so they couldn’t understand it or comprehend. They didn’t know why I was agitated. They didn’t know why I couldn’t meet up with them till sad times. They didn’t know why I didn’t pick up my phone they didn’t know why I called them at weird hours they didn’t understand it they didn’t understand why I wanted money they didn’t understand why I didn’t have this. They didn’t understand the people that knew I get it. I wish I didn’t even guys They see it though they see what happened, but then I did have one very abusive friend who is a Gemini and she would send me essays with you sometimes and this was before I got with Matt! she could still be very nasty I mean when I got her, she was like really rude about that and telling people I mean what kind of friend does that anyway so she comes and stay with me after a few years of me being with him and we have a nice time. Kind of have a good time, I’m still happy because I’m with him well I think I am anyway she comes down with fake note she was like can you use it cause she knew the olive. It was a bit backwards compared London I was like yeah probably be fine anyway one day we walked into town and I call her from upstairs from my exes flat and she looks horrified on that. Oh God here we go and she looked up annoyed anyway she’s there and a few days later, she’s all happy happy all on her phone and a good mood God. I wish I felt like her with making weed and I was being very paranoid and that’s when I stopped because I’d started smoking crack at this point because my ex couldn’t do heroin any more fuck from injecting and I hated cocaine. I just did it because he did it and he wanted me to owe him money. A lot of these drug addicts Connell is too so you owe the money I offend this. Well I’m too good for it and I know I’m so good for it and I wanna meet the other people who are not like this who are not con artists ! so she is high and she’s like don’t you feel so amazing I didn’t but I pretended yeah for great anyway she doodled all over this night and then she goes he go you can have it as she left to go home. I was like cheers can’t use it for shit now but thanks 🧑‍🎨.
Chapter 1
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gaybybirth · 2 years
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hawkins' sweetheart - ch five
Eddie Munson x virgin!fem!Reader (NSFW)
Hawkins’ Sweetheart Masterlist
Synopsis: When your desire to do more with Eddie becomes restricted given your current location, you decide to take a risk and change spots.
Warnings: nsfw & fluffy content; corruption & innocence kink, dirty talk, pillow humping, over the clothes touching, Eddie explains some topics (and teaches you about them), edging, multiple orgasms
Word Count: 5k
A/N: reader's taking risks, let's hope it doesn't fuck up like the last one did
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You were exceptionally quiet during your lunch date with the three girls. Lillian and Rose went on about their test, talking about a family vacation that was coming up, too. Hailey had to bring her brother along, and Andrew picked up two unused straws and banged them against the table like drumsticks. And Hailey, when everyone was suitably distracted by food, leaned over and dropped a bomb. 
“My, uh, mom talked to me the other day. A sly comment about making sure I tell her about all my plans—late night or not.” She flicked her brow eyes up and gave you an expectant look. “I don’t mind covering, but a heads up would always be nice.” 
“Oh, crap.” You dropped your fork. “My parents called them, didn’t they? You didn’t get in trouble, did you? Crap, Hailey. I’m so sorry.”
“No, I didn’t. You got lucky, actually. My parents have been getting more relaxed about certain rules since graduating high school. My curfew’s been extended until one in the morning.”
“Wow, that’s…wow.” Yours was still ten o’clock. “Still, I’m so sorry.”
“Want to tell me why you were actually sneaking out?” 
“I’m, uh…” You fiddled with your ring before putting your hands on your lap. “I found my own Robert. I think. I don’t know. I just…I feel like I’m trapped in a box and I want to poke a few air holes in it.”
Hailey sat back and nodded. “Fair enough.”
She reached over and took your hand in hers. She gave it a gentle squeeze and reached across with her other hand and stole a bite of your salad. 
“Just be careful. My parents are more…carefree…than yours. Don’t want to see anything bad happen there.” She eyed you as she swallowed. “But this…hole poking. It’s making you happy?”
“Yeah, it is.”
“Then keep doing it.”
You touched yourself two more times before you had to go to the church for the yard sale. All the profits were going to the local humane society and the whole front yard was littered with an assortment of objects. You and David were working the money box, giving everyone big smiles and warm greetings as they paid for their items. You felt a little bad, but as you sat next to David, there was one thing you could pinpoint. 
Or couldn’t pinpoint. 
You felt nothing when sitting beside him. He was nice, attractive, and very sweet. But he didn’t make you feel the same way Eddie had. And it was probably dangerous to associate those feelings with Eddie considering the whole ‘no strings attached’ thing, but…well. The more you replayed your time with him, the more you wanted to continue it. So you had to keep reminding yourself that you and Eddie? You had a transactional relationship. 
You tutored, he touched. 
Or, he taught. But he had touched in the process. And you couldn’t stop freaking thinking about his fingers or his mouth or his little whispers as you moaned. It made you shift in your seat, and a bit of wetness pooled between your legs the more you thought about him. 
You glanced up at the giant cross on the front of the church and muttered an apology. It was probably some sort of extra offense to be thinking about premarital sex with the man who led the local satanic-esque club. 
You weren’t as religious as Jodie, Lillian, or Rose, but you could feel the blasphemy radiating from you.
You tried it again in the shower before classes on Monday. You pretended Eddie was in there with you, hand between your legs as you leaned against the cold tile. The drastic temperature change between the wall and the steaming water was overwhelming but as it skated over your senses, it just made you cum faster. 
For the first time in weeks, you actually felt semi-relaxed before going to classes. Before having to deal with Spencer and his over-attentive mother. He even asked if you’d had some good news “or some shit” because you were in such a good mood. You ruffled his blond hair and told him to get back to work, pointing at the science problem on the worksheet in front of him. 
“See you Wednesday, Spencer,” you said as you walked towards the picnic table. Your heart jump-started in your chest when you saw Eddie already leaning against it. He was holding a worn-out book that he closed as soon as he glanced up and saw you. “Hey, Munson.”
“Hey, sweet girl.” His eyes glinted as he looked over you in your baggy purple sweater that felt sexier than it was. “Long time no see.” 
“You, uh, ready?” You motioned to the table, and Eddie smirked as you took small steps towards the table. 
“Mhm.” He plopped down next to you. “Looking fairly relaxed today. Have a good weekend?” 
“Yeah, something like that.” You dropped your notebook on the table and cleared your throat. “Did some experimenting.” 
“Y-Yeah?” Eddie laughed and peered over at you. “You get a little taste and want it all now, huh?”
You shoved him, but he barely budged. He reached up and played with the clasp on your necklace, making your breath hitch a bit. Each brush of his fingers made your heart skip a beat. He made no comment about how you subconsciously leaned against his touch, and he dropped his other hand in front of you. It was close enough for the tips of his fingers to graze yours. 
“I’m glad I could help. I’m being serious, too. Uh, you look a lot more relaxed.” His hand dropped from your necklace and skimmed down your back. “If you ever got any more questions, you still got my number, right?”
“Yeah.” You opened your notebook. “I got it.” 
A bit of silence passed as you and Eddie worked. It was comfortable and you couldn’t help the small flutters in your chest whenever Eddie’s knee would knock against yours or his hand would come close to yours. 
“Feel like I owe you a bit more,” Eddie said about halfway through the session. “You, uh, helped me out so much already. Feel like I owe you a bit more.”
You peered up at him, and he shrugged casually. He went back to scribbling on the worksheet, and you sufficiently tuned your mind off from your work. There was one option, but you weren’t sure how viable it was. It was based on information you’d overheard back in school, and given how much time had passed, it was possible it was true anymore. But since you couldn’t exactly do anything at school and you definitely couldn’t keep sneaking Eddie in—it was worth the shot. 
Even if you’d be on permanent house arrest if your parents found out. 
“Does your uncle still work night shift?”
“Should I be concerned how you know that?” Eddie cocked a brow, but his playful smile remained. “Stalking me, (Y/N)?”
“Heard you mention it back in school. Don’t ask me the context, I barely even remember you saying that.” You crossed and uncrossed your legs. “But does he?”
“He does.”
You’d get in so much trouble if you got caught, but wanted more alone time with Eddie. Desperately needed it. 
“When, uh, when does he leave for it?”
“Five o’clock.”
“I, uh, you know. We could always relocate our sessions to your trailer. Push them back an hour. You don’t live that far from me, so it’d actually be closer to my house.” You looked down at your hands. “Besides. You saw mine, I should see yours.”
Eddie laughed and shook his head. His hair was more unruly today and you reached out and finger-combed some of the stray strands down. 
“You sure? Really wanna risk that?” He drummed his fingers on the table. “Can't imagine your parents would like it.”
“I'll tell them I took up an extra student so I have to stay out later.” Your eyes were fixed on Eddie’s rings. Mind engulfing in fog as you remembered the phantom touch of his fingers dragging across the seam of your shorts. “I'm sure.”
“Okay.” He reached across and scribbled down his address onto your notebook page. “Be there five o’clock Wednesday.”
“I’ll be there.”
You stood outside his trailer. Tuesday had passed quickly despite the excitement to see Eddie at his trailer the next day. You credited it to the underlying anxiety. The worry of getting caught. But it wasn’t like someone was going to see you there. Well, someone who’d tell your parents. And it wasn’t like you were going to get home late and, if your parents were strict on the direction in which you pulled into the driveway, you still came from the same direction. 
They bought the extra student lie. You got a lecture about not taking on too much work, but you reassured them that you felt more confident than ever. You'd be able to handle the workload. But the second it got too much, you'd reconsider your schedule. 
“Promise,” you said, smiling at your parents. 
It was five on the dot and only Eddie’s car was parked outside. There was the faint scent of cigarette smoke as you stepped up the stairs and pulled the screen door back. It took a few deep breaths before you knocked. 
The door opened almost immediately. 
Eddie’s hair was damp, wetting his Metallica shirt. He grinned wide and proud as he stepped aside and held his arm out. 
“Welcome, welcome. Come in.” 
You stepped inside and instantly stopped to look around. The front door brought you into a small living room—mugs and hats hung from shelves and the wall. They had a small television, a folding bed, a couch and a recliner. Eddie laughed a little nervously as you walked to the left, looking around the kitchen and small eating space. Past the washer and closet and the bathroom. It smelled like vanilla, spice, and a bit of weed, beer, and cigarette smoke. 
There was a candle spotted in the bathroom as you walked towards the cracked bedroom door, the flame flickering high. 
“Just going straight to snooping, huh?” Eddie came up behind you, hand on the doorframe as you nudged his bedroom door open. 
But as you went to take a step inside his room—eyes trying to take in the onslaught of posters, tapestries, amps, books, and clearly made bed—Eddie tugged you back. 
“Hey.” You frowned as he reached forward and closed his bedroom door. “You got to snoop.”
“Mhm, but…” He motioned back towards the couch. “We have schoolwork to do first. Bedroom’s off limits.”
You narrowed your eyes as Eddie led you to a small table by the front door and held out his hand. He was a bit fidgety as he sat across from you and turned a worksheet towards you. It was a classic open textbook worksheet, and you responded to Eddie by pulling out your own homework. He smirked as he pulled the worksheet back and started scribbling on it, his textbook slightly overlapping with your notebook. 
He was halfway through the worksheet when he jumped up. You only spared him a passing glance as he cursed and went to his fridge, and pulled out two water bottles. He gave you a soft smile as he sat them down on the table before returning to his seat, his feet nudging yours underneath the table. 
“Eddie,” you murmured. 
“Hm?” He looked up, cocking a brow. “Please do not ask me to help with your homework. Already struggling here as it is.”
“I like your home.” 
A faint blush dusted his cheeks.
“Well, it’s no suburban shit with plastic pink flamingos and an annoyingly green lawn.” His eyes widened, and you already knew whose house he was talking about. They had about four pink flamingos, and you stared at them every day before you left for classes. “But…thank you.” 
You worked for a little over forty-five minutes, finishing most of your assignment and all of Eddie’s. There was a finality when he closed his textbook, and you glanced up. If he had any other homework, he had no intention of doing it. And as soon as his eyes met yours, you felt that restless feeling swirl all the way back between your legs. 
“So…” He tapped his hands on the table, the chair squeaking as he leaned forward. “Got any more questions for me? Any more, uh, lingering curiosities?” 
That restless feeling tripled. 
“You said there were other ways…to do what we did the other night.” You couldn’t hold his gaze and Eddie clearly loved every second of it. “What kind of ways?”
You started out at the table and it was all talk. Eddie talked you through what you could do by yourself. Some would be a little harder since you lived with your parents and you were limited on noise—so most toys were out of the question. But you could use your fingers if you wanted to go beyond outside stimulation. You could also use a pillow.
That’s how you ended up on the couch. 
Eddie had a stipulation. If he was going to show you anything, it wasn’t going to be in his room. Not on his bed. You didn’t argue as he retrieved a pillow from his bed, still trying to peek in at all he had in there. The sight of a hanging electric guitar made you smile. Made you wonder what he looked like playing that while at The Hideout. 
But you weren’t left with much time to think. Eddie had you beside him on the couch, pillow folded and between your legs. He sat behind you, hands on your hips, mouth beside your ear. You felt close to erupting as Eddie slowly guided your hips on the pillow, your dress leaving very little barrier between you and the thing. 
“Grind how it feels good,” he murmured. “Like how you do with your fingers, finding the, uh, best spot.” 
You bit back a moan and Eddie’s fingers twitched on your hips. 
“Don’t gotta hold back here. Just you and me.” 
So the next moan that slipped out, you didn’t try to stifle. And that grip on your hip worsened until Eddie pried his fingers off. He pressed a hand to your back to make you arch it and slide to sit in front of you. Pulled your hands forward, making you put your weight there. It was almost laughable how professional he was being about it until you cracked your eyes open and saw that faint blush back on his cheeks. 
When your eyes locked, hands on your wrists, you felt yourself clench around nothing inside you. 
“Feeling good?”
“Very.” You swallowed a wave of nerves. The next words slipped out of you without meaning to and your hips stopped. “Miss your fingers though.”
Your eyes dropped to where his hands twitched on your wrists. Crap. You technically meant to say you preferred the finger method, but it wasn’t a lie that you were missing his specifically. 
No strings. You repeated the words about ten times, hips stalled before Eddie leaned forward and smirked. 
“Up,” was all he said. 
And when you moved off the pillow, he was kicking it aside and pulling you onto his lap. His mouth grazed your cheek as he kicked your legs open and pulled your dress up. His chest rumbled when he looked down and saw your white underwear stuck to you from the wetness. 
“There’s some other stuff you can do while doing this, too. Alone or with a partner.” He skimmed his fingers along the inside of your thigh and you clenched your jaw. This was not how you’d expected the evening to go. But you were not going to complain. “Like holding your breath or choking, talking dirty, edging or denial. Things to…experiment with.”
Your head swam at his words—doubly when his fingers finally went between your legs and pressed to your clit. He found it easily, and as you pressed yourself back against him, he wrapped his other arm around you. 
“You can also try playing with these,” he murmured, guiding one of your hands up to your chest. 
When you looked at him confused, Eddie laughed, body shaking beneath you. 
“Nipples, baby.” He had you cup your chest, and you clamped your eyes shut, hips moving in time with how he rubbed your clit. “You can play with your nipples.”
“O-Oh.”
“It’s easier when you’re wearing a little less clothing. So that’s an alone time experiment.” He worked his fingers a little faster, making you whimper and squirm. “But the others? Any curiosities?” 
You could barely remember what he’d even listed, brain fogged from the pleasure. From the surreal reality of being alone with Eddie in his trailer, his fingers between your legs, making you feel so freaking good. And as you cracked your eyes open and glanced down at the ring on your finger, you felt only excitement. The guilt was long gone and you grabbed onto Eddie’s leg as another moan left you. 
“All of ‘em.” You mostly said it because you couldn’t remember. “Wanna know everything.”
“Think you’re a little drunk on the pleasure, baby,” Eddie murmured. “But I’ll explain.”
He started with edging, both in practice and in explanation. Because he didn’t want you to cum until he finished explaining everything. He had you count, too. Making you croak the numbers out as he pushed you to what felt like a breaking point. You got to three as he told you about edging, five as he finished breath play and choking, and seven as he mentioned denial. 
“That’d be like if I left you just like this,” he whispered, lifting his fingers as you muttered an eight. “And I think you already know what dirty talk is.”
He kept his fingers off of you as your body trembled. You were covered in a sheen of sweat, and when you dared a glance down at his watch, you knew you were going to be in trouble if you didn’t clean yourself up before going home. But you were getting closer to having less and less time for that. 
“Although I don’t know how much a mind as sweet as yours could conjure up. Doubt you’d ever had a dirty thought till recently. Didn’t even know what feelin’ horny was or how to touch yourself.” Eddie finally touched you again. “Things like having that pretty pussy stuffed. With a toy, cock, or cum. Or whispering about how sweet you taste and how tight and needy you are. That you’re so desperate to cum, you’ll ride my cock until you’re cumming all over it.”
A groan left you and you weren’t sure where to grab. Eddie was pushing you back to the breaking point and you had no idea if he was going to finally let you shatter. 
“Go ahead, baby. Not going to keep it from you this time.” 
You reached back and grabbed a fistful of Eddie’s hair as you came, hips lifting from his lap. That snapping feeling was ever more present, more potent, as he continued to touch you. Your moan left you through your teeth, choking out of you and ripping through the quiet room. Crap. You felt yourself gush and it made a diluted rush of embarrassment hit you, and you hid yourself in Eddie’s neck. 
Eddie had to wrap his arms around your waist to keep you from falling off his lap as you relaxed. He nuzzled the side of your head and chuckled, squeezing you tight as you panted. You felt a little gross, covered in sweat and shaking as much as you were, but Eddie kept you in his arms. 
“Holy crap,” you huffed out. “Eddie…”
“Feel good?”
“Understatement, but yeah.”
“Good.” He squeezed your waist. “Take a sec, I’ll get you some water.”
“Wait,” you said, turning on his lap. He was grinning when you faced him, and you had a feeling you had some mascara staining your cheeks. “Next time, um. Can you show me…how to use my fingers inside myself? That’s a fairly unknown area for me.”
Eddie tensed and helped you off his lap. He said nothing as he grabbed your water from the table, passing it to you as he sat beside you on the couch. 
“Can’t.” He cleared his throat and looked down at his hands. “Over the clothes only, remember?” 
You nodded and took a sip of your water. 
“Right, sorry.”
Not much else was said as you retreated to his bathroom to clean up and make yourself look remotely presentable. He was smoking a cigarette on his porch when you finished, holding it away from you as you stepped up beside him to say bye. 
“You’ll regret it,” he said as you started down his porch steps. “I’m me, (Y/N). I think you’ll regret it if you let me take too many of your firsts.” 
“You think I view that little of you?” You opened your car door and chucked your bag in. 
“No, you’re way too sweet for that.” He looked down at the cigarette in his fingers. “But I think you’ll regret asking a guy like me for help instead of having that sweet, rose petals on the bed equivalent of, uh, first times. Even for the small things.” 
You started to say his name, but he just smiled. 
“I will tell you whatever you want to know, baby, but I am not going to become a regret for you.” 
You were going to respond, but a familiar-looking car coming into the lot had you getting into your car. Eddie waved as you pulled out and you waved back. But his words did have you thinking. Through classes, through your next tutoring sessions, through the extra three you had on Saturday as you helped them prepare for upcoming big tests and presentations. You had to cancel your night out with your friends, but you had plans to go to the movies next week, so you’d catch up with them then. 
And thankfully, as Sunday finished and you came back from a volunteer gig at David’s church again, you shared some wonderful news with them. David had a girlfriend. They’d met at the last volunteer gig and were officially, as he stated while you made food baskets for those in need, courting. He even asked what flowers he should buy her for their third date. 
You barely had a response, stuck thinking about how awkward the next few sessions at Eddie’s were going to be. 
Monday especially. 
You weren’t sure if you wanted to talk about the elephant in the room, so you ignored it. You talked about classes, about the nerves of walking through your front door last Wednesday after your first in-home session with him. 
“Given that you’re here, I take it you didn’t get caught?” He asked with a sly smile, eyes glittering across the table. 
“Yup. Didn’t think anything of it.”
“Good.” 
That night, he had you on his thigh. He whispered praises in your ear as his hands guided your hips along his ripped jeans. Grinding seemed to be the theme. Or, thigh riding, more specifically. That if you really wanted to give your future partner a show, you’d get yourself off on their leg. Didn’t matter whether you’re naked or fully clothed—as you were—watching a girl “as pretty and sweet as you” get yourself off on his leg was more than sexy. 
He showed you a few ways to use your mouth, too. Showing where to kiss both on you and himself. 
Told you where to nip and suck, where to leave hickies if you wanted to. He had you leave one near his collarbone and your breath hitched as he tugged his collar down, exposing the two tattoos he had there. He laughed when your hips stuttered and you lifted your fingers, dragging over them and tracing the lines. One was a spider, the other a head of something that definitely matched Eddie’s aesthetic. You’d seen the ones on his arm—the bats, the puppet, and what he said was a Wyvern—but you hadn’t seen these two. 
“Ever thought about getting your own?” He tugged on your hips. 
“No. Tattoos are definitely against the rules.” But you leaned down and kissed the ink. “I like yours though.”
“Thanks.” He grinned and drew his mouth along your neck. You were starting to get addicted to the feeling of his mouth on your skin. 
You collapsed on the couch after you came, huffing as Eddie ran a hand up your leg. Glancing up showed a very clear wet spot on his jeans—even if they were blacker than your mascara—and you rolled over and buried your face into the couch. 
“Hey,” he muttered, tapping the inside of your thigh and making you part your legs. You gasped as his hand came up and skimmed over your underwear. The back of his knuckles grazed where you could still feel yourself squeezing around nothing, your heart racing in your chest the whole time. “Do I need to remind you that that’s a good thing?”
“It’s embarrassing,” you spoke against the cushion. You’d just cum and you still angled your hips for Eddie to touch you. 
“Nah, baby. It’s hot.” His breath shuddered out of him as you pressed yourself up a bit, and only when your dress rode up over your ass did you realize the position you were in.
Hips raised, ass in the air, hands grabbing onto the couch as Eddie teased your clit. When you tensed before slowly starting to lower yourself down, Eddie’s other hand grabbed your hips. 
“Stay,” he said, bringing the tips of his fingers to your clit. “Stay.”
You hadn’t even known you could cum again before Eddie had you panting and whining into the couch. And he had you on the verge of tears the whole time, drawing it out as much as he could, holding your hips still. He whispered little things that made you burn down your neck and he even gave your ass a light tap. Nothing too hard, but enough to cause a sting that you liked. A lot.
“Good time to probably tell you,” he whispered as you came down from your second orgasm. “There are a lot of positions to try out.” 
You grunted into the couch as Eddie rubbed your back. You stayed like that until he reminded you of the time and you rolled off. You really, really wanted him to put his fingers in you. You’d tried it a few times yourself, but it felt so foreign and strange that you gave up every time. You had no idea what you were doing down there and it was just like touching yourself before—you were too embarrassed.
“You okay?” Eddie leaned in the doorway of the bathroom, looking you over as you leaned your forehead against the cool counter. When you looked up, you wiped a damp piece of toilet paper to your cheeks to clean the mascara stains off. You laughed when Eddie held out an unopened package of mascara. “Feel bad making yours wash away.” 
You ignored the bubbly feeling passing through you as you looked down at it. 
“Yeah, I’m fine.” You cleared your throat and opened the package. You couldn't not use it now. “Just embarrassed, that’s all.”
“Knowing you get that wet for a person, that’s a compliment, (Y/N).” Eddie’s eyes stayed on your face. “It’s a real sexy thing.”
“Not, uh, not just that.” You blinked the mascara on and Eddie watching in the mirror. 
“The position?” 
“Yeah.” You closed the bottle and contemplated between putting it in your bag or leaving it on the counter. Eddie said nothing as you sat it beside the two toothbrushes next to the sink. “Uh, just…I don’t know. I’m just a little embarrassed by it.”
“I promise, the view it gives is nothing to be embarrassed about.” Eddie pushed up from the doorway. “It’s real fuckin’ sexy.”
You closed your eyes and sighed. He had to know what he was doing to you. 
“Hey, Eddie,” you asked as you stood beside his front door. He leaned beside you, the sounds of the tv soft behind you. “I, uh. Can I ask a favor for next time?”
“Anything.” 
“Can you, uh, would you mind. Um. Well.” 
Your words came out in stutters and Eddie reached up and tugged you close. You were rendered sufficiently speechless as Eddie’s mouth pressed against yours. You bumped into the tv behind you as he unexpectedly deepened the kiss, tongue grazing yours, only staying long enough to make you whimper. 
When he pulled back, it was just enough to break the kiss. His nose nudged yours as his thumb dragged along your bottom lip. 
“Ask away.”
“Can you talk me through how to use my fingers inside me?” You kept your eyes closed. “I-I’ve tried, but I don’t know what I’m doing. Not asking you to touch, just—”
“Yeah,” Eddie murmured back. “I can talk you through it.” 
You felt your body relax and Eddie pulled back, reaching out and squeezing your hand. You hadn’t addressed the elephant in the room, but you felt a lot more comfortable leaving Eddie’s than you had last time. Even if part of that was directed towards your next lesson with Eddie and the urge to practice that same position again, imagining what Eddie must have seen. 
That anticipation and excitement hadn’t lasted though. You’d gotten instructions for a massive assignment the next day and barely had time to work on it in between helping students. And you had absolutely no time that evening when your parents had friends over for dinner. Ones that you had to look perfect for. Making you help your mother around the house before they got there—even if the house was already spotless before their arrival. 
The stress kept you quiet for most of the dinner. The silent desire to retreat to your room, roll onto your stomach, and touch yourself while thinking about Eddie was what kept you grounded. For the first time, you found yourself exhausted listening to the light, performative laughter as your parents’ friends cracked dry jokes. 
You peered down when your ring clinked against your glass. 
It was going to be a long, long night. 
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sl33paholics · 1 year
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Right Beside You, Always
Yan!Kakyoin x Black!fem reader
Warning(s): Fluff (at the beginning lol), yandere tendencies, manipulation, gaslighting, voyeurism, misuse of stands, mentions masturbation and sex
A/N: You know I was writing a smut Jotaro one this morning but I got bored so it's staying in the drafts until I get motivated to finish it.
Noriaki remembered the first time he encountered you. Watching you play in the box of sand by yourself as the other kids in the playground avoided being around you. It was obvious, because of your skin tone. They've never seen anything like it, not to mention your features. Hair that looked like it was on the rougher side, bigger eyes and nose, you just didn't resemble the type of people in their society. He remembered the exact words his mother told him "See? That girl is all playing alone, why not give her some company, Nori? You two could be friends." The young red-haired kid went over and sat next to you, and asked "Want to play together? Mother said both of us could be friends!" He was nervous since he wasn't the best at being social but was surprised to see your frown turn into a smile. "Okay!!" from that day on forward, the two of you were like two peas in a pot.
You played together, walked around the neighborhood together, colored together, had many sleepovers together, played video games together, and did everything together that you could think of doing together. He was the only kid in your neighborhood who saw you as an equal. You even transferred to his school to be close to him. Even though you couldn't see his other invisible friend, having your eyes on only him was enough to bring him enjoyment was more than happy to have someone that understood him. You became his best friend, his only other best friend in his childhood.
Fast forward, the two of you are now 17 years of age. Noriaki had gotten a firm, but strong figure over the years and for you on the other hand, he couldn't characterize how gorgeous you've gotten since you guys were kids. Wavy hair, curvy waist, firm breasts, and oh lord your ass. He'd catch himself staring at you for a long period you'd thought he was dying, not only that, your personalities are now complete opposites from back in the day. Noriaki stayed true to his introverted nature but you have grown to become a social butterfly, words can't describe how much he fucking loathes it. He felt like he was losing you to your now cool hip group of friends you now have, you were being invited to parties, and events, and you weren't spending enough time with your best— no, childhood friend!!
Don't get started about the boys at your school. Hell, don't even comment on any of them around the two. It always ticked him off how much enthusiasm these incels have to just walk up and talk to you as if he wasn't there?! Disrespectful little dicks! The horrendous comments they would make about your body while he sat quietly in his seat waiting for you to arrive at your classroom. "Those thighs are so beautiful, have you seen the way her stockings just squeeze them?" The first boy said. "Those boobs she has, I can only guess what color her bra is." the short-haired one chuckled, "You think she has a boyfriend? We can invite her to the party this weekend and give her some fun~" The third boy with slick back hair licked his lips. He vividly remembers snapping his pencil in half from all of the sickening comments, if he could, Noriaki wouldn't waste any time using Hierophant Green on these fools and most likely would, if there weren't too many witnesses.
"What do you mean it's not today, Nori?" a confused look appeared on your face as you watched him hand you the flyer "It said next Friday, not this Friday. Those fools you call friends can't even get good grades and mixed up the dates." you let out a disappointed sigh and put the flyer down before picking up your book bag and heading towards your locker. "Whatever. Let's go home, Nori." You said. Noriaki couldn't help but feel sorrow to see your depressed expression but the other half of him felt satisfaction, he was beginning to ruin your plans with the people he didn't want you to be around. Focus on him. He hates being alone, you know that (Y/N).
"Are you sure you were invited there?" Noriaki gave you a stern look, his hand on his hip while checking you out. "Yeah! I think," you responded "You think but you're not sure. If I remember correctly, you didn't attend the last few parties because they were either canceled or they set it on the wrong date. What makes you think they finally got it right this time?" Noriaki turned away from you, clearly showing his bitterness and disappointment. You stood there looking down at the ground, he was right after all. Oh, how silly you felt looking all fancy and cute for an event that wasn't even today! Silly (Y/N)! Little did you know, the wide smirk the red hair male had on his face after purposefully sabotaging your plans just for you to be with him for the day? Another win for Noriaki Kakyoin.
What other activity does this gamer do besides playing video games all day or even painting his favorite picture he took? Window Peeping, of course! This man wants to have his eye on you 24/7 and especially when you're home alone. It just so happens that your parents were away celebrating their anniversary and left you in charge of the house. Finally, some alone time in the house, right? Right? He wouldn't be there physically watching you through your window, oh no no no, you guys have neighbors! One wrong move then boom, he's in handcuffs.
That's when Hierophant Green comes into play. Noriaki knows the time you head into the showers and is prepared to meet you there. Hierophant was his eyes. The camera was rolling, and you turned on the shower before taking off your shirt and skirt along with everything else. The camera quickly got a better view of your chest and the rest of you. You were perfect, you were flawless! You had curves he won't stop admiring was enamored by how smooth your legs looked, and the rest of you were just...perfect. He wanted to touch you, taste you, and fuck you. He wanted to be inside you, he wanted to be the one making love to you. He wanted to be the one providing you pleasure. He wanted to be the one making you scream his name. He wanted to be the one making you cum.
By now you were in the shower, the water hitting your skin and your once-dried hair now wet, the jiggly motion your thighs and ass would do as you were scrubbing yourself was out of this world! Noriaki couldn't help but get hard every time he did this, patting his harden boner through his boxers the small but visible print of pre-cum now coming out. It had been 2 hours since that video was taken, and many pictures of your naked figure were scattered across the bed. He'd never forget the image of your bare ass, your soft breasts with the tiniest droplets of water dripping off of them, how perfectly curved your ass was, or that tiny trail of moisture slowly trailing down your pussy, leading to that dark hole at the center of your entrance.
And the cycle continues. Kakyoin is always by your side whether you know it or not, he just couldn't wait to say I love you or surprise you with a romantic picnic in the park to confess his feelings for you. But for now, he lingers in the shadows with his secretive activities and possible hidden bodies buried in his yard. Best friend, childhood friend, just wait until he becomes permanently yours, (Y/N).
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hanyjar · 1 year
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the magnum opus and the muse.
yaguchi yatora x reader
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notes: [818 words.] geidai yatora makes me question everything fr ): anyways pls give blue period the love it deserves!! i am literally scraping the floor for crumbs
disclaimers: university au! yaguchi, mentions of smoking & drinking (they discourage it tho), brief mention of underage drinking, reader & yaguchi are probs depressed, friends pining for each other, questioning the future & reminiscing abt the past!!
masterlist.
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“How does it feel to hate the things you love?”
A puff of smoke escapes his chapped lips, eyes glistening with a sense of mirth from your question.
Yatora Yaguchi has always been an enigma. From the moment he dyed his hair and pierced his ears, to when his love for art blossomed into an almost self destructive endeavour.
You wonder why he did it. Why would he go through such lengths for it all? For his definition of love.
Even more so now, as he stood in front of you. Yatora looks different now, you thought. Clad in nothing but an all black hoodie and weathered jeans gifted to him during his high-school days, one would think he looks the same as usual. Nothing out of the ordinary.
But you know better. He knows better.
His usually bleached hair is showing his natural roots. The whites of his eyes are bloodshot; Yatora walks with a sense of lethargy instead of self-assured confidence, a feeling you know all too well.
He, too, is hit with the feeling of sullen dreams.
“It fucking sucks. I have no idea what I’m supposed to be doing.” Yatora brings up a hand to his face, covering the bags that rimmed his eyes. “Pass me another smoke, would you?”
A reluctant grimace finds its way onto your face, hand reaching into your pocket for the box of poison anyways. “You’re killing your lungs that way, y’know.”
“And you’re killing your liver. You’re one to talk.”
Downing the liquor you would once steal from your parent’s cabinets, and were now legal to buy it with your own money, you reminisced.
Back to your youth. Back to when Yatora was encapsulating a blue Shibuya - not living amongst the colour. Back to when you and he didn’t lay in shards of crushed hopes that pierce through the very cores of your beings.
“It would be easier,” you turn to him, watching how the evening glow of Shibuya painted his face with warmth. “If you lived without passion. Like me.”
A beat of silence passes through the air. “No thanks,” he interjects.
“Hey! Why?” You punch his shoulder half-heartedly, “I’m serious. I almost died trying to create a so-called ‘magnum opus’, and now you might too. That’s the last thing I want from you.”
Another cloud of smoke enriches the air around you. And with the smile he gives you, one with the brilliance of a thousand stars, Yatora makes you realise. Within this ghost city, so devoid of life, there was still hope. Hope that came in the form of an ex-delinquent boy, now a Geidai student.
“Because, you said it yourself back in our second year of junior high. That’s the worst way of living. And eventually, you’ll lose sense of yourself, right?” His hand reaches to readjust the scarf he placed around you, delicately. Like he always was, with you. “I believe you still live with passion. You just refuse to believe it.”
Yes, you thought to yourself. Yatora’s right when he says you do live with passion.
But it’s not what he may think.
It’s not in the form of art, not in the tangible, literal sense anyways. Not in the way society thinks of what art is.
It’s in the form of love.
In the form of him.
Yatora is your magnum opus. And you hope to see him bloom into something magnificent.
So, you partly know the answer to your own question. To feel hatred for the things you love? It is to feel hatred towards the man you dedicated yourself wholly to, for he is the one who is slowly leading himself into turmoil.
But, just as before, you will wait. Forever, and evermore. The words lingering on the tip of your tongue will remain unspoken until he, too, sees you in a similar light.
You sigh. That’s enough thinking; you’ve drunk too much again.
A slight tug to your hands snaps you back to reality. “C’mon, daydreamer. My mum has been wanting to see you again. How does spending a night at my house sound?”
The slight desperate tone in his voice makes you realise that maybe, just maybe, Yatora is clinging to the past too.
Little do you know, he views you as something incomprehensible too. Why does he always search for a glimpse of you in the Geidai halls? Attending class would be the last thing you do. It is all unknown to him.
Yatora’s love burns. He is able to paint even through tears; he never feels as if too much is enough. And maybe that’s why he refuses to let you go. He can never get enough of you.
He can never get enough of the person that historians would dictate as his muse.
And maybe that's why he refuses to say the words which cling onto the deep crevices of his heart so very deeply.
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hippolotamus · 6 months
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top 9 books 📚
tagged by @eddiebabygirldiaz (who I constantly pest to write a book and will add to this list if they ever do 😘) @thewolvesof1998 @cowboy-buddie @your-catfish-friend @spotsandsocks Thank you loves 💖
I can say right now that these are in the moment picks. Books are far too special to narrow down to just 9.
Anthem by Ayn Rand
A short read about a society where people have careers and partners chosen for them. Everyone is addressed in collective terms and the word I is never used. It's been a long ass time, but I legit cried the first time I read it.
1984 by George Orwell
Another one that has fascinated me since the first time I read it, way back in the dark ages of high school. Dystopian society where Big Brother is always watching. The main character is lured into going against the grain only to ultimately be punished. That's a terrible excuse for a summary but here we are.
The Santaland Diaries by David Sedaris
Some satire and humor as the author details his time working as an elf during the Christmas season. If you don't wheeze and piss yourself laughing I really don't know what to tell you.
Psycho by Onley James
Book 2 of a MM series about 7 psychopath brothers. I love the series but August is my favorite.
Moth by Lily Mayne
Book 5 of a human/monster romance series. Moth is my very special baby. Look at him wrong and I'll maim you.
The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller
jfc how do I even summarize this? IDEK... battles, romance, platonic love, soulmates. Just go read it and have yourself a good cry.
The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid
Dear gods what a fucking fabulous book. Chronicles the life of the (fictional) mysterious hollywood actress, Evelyn Hugo, with an absolutely insane twist at the end.
The Christmas Box Collection by Richard Paul Evans
Technically a trilogy but I can't separate them. This begins by telling the story of a young family who move in with an elderly widow. It then moves on to the details of who the widow was before, starting at the very beginning with how she met her husband, and the reason for the large marble angel statue on the property.
Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson
One of my favorites from my youth. All about friendship and imagination and what happens when that gets ripped away. Again, a shit summary, but it's a fantastic read. I have absolutely considered an au about this one.
Bonus: When the Summer's Over by Anna Pollock
A m/f romance that's cute AF, written by one of my besties @walnuts-and-berries, with cover art by my beloved wife @lizzie-bennetdarcy. Minnesota farm gal meets city boy and is instantly disgusted. gasp can they overcome their differences and make it work?
no pressure tagging @stereopticons @blackandwhiteandrose @buddierights @apothecarose @spotsandsocks @shortsighted-owl @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy @jesuisici33 @lizzie-bennetdarcy and anyone else I normally tag (or don't) who wants to play 🥰
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