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#have people forgotten how hard coming out can be????????
kkami-writes · 2 days
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waiting for us — chapter fifty one. the wedding cw. smut!, semi-public sex (bathroom), piv, protected sex (shout out to condoms) wc. 1,965 + 4 ss a/n: THIS IS UNEDITED. I FINALLY FUCKING FINISHED THIS MY GOD. I'm so sorry this took forever...that's my bad <3 hopefully the motivation keeps rolling and i'll finally finish this fic.
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The ceremony had been perfect, something right out of the pages of a fairy tale. The venue had been small since they had kept it to close family and friends but it still had been breathtaking. Minghao had made you his best “man” and there was no place you’d rather be than next to your best friend on the most important day of his life. (and if you cried while they were reciting their vows, you’d never tell. Though Minghao had taken plenty of pictures of you ugly crying to store in his blackmail folder.)
It was probably inappropriate to daydream during a wedding, but Jeongin couldn’t help himself. You were standing up there, looking absolutely breathtaking, it was hardly his fault that his mind had wondered what you would look like, dressed in all white at their own wedding.
If he was honest, he never expected to get married. Well, he supposed that’s wrong. While he does in fact plan on getting married eventually to all his soulmates, before you had come into the picture that had agreed that a ceremony between eight people would be a little hectic. He didn’t need some grand ceremony to show his love but for now, he could dream of seeing you in a wedding dress for now.
The reception is just as gorgeous as the actual wedding, with lavish decorations and a crystal chandelier.
Currently you were being dragged from table to table, both Minghao and Jun introducing you to people like you were their child. (though Minghao would argue that him and Jun were indeed your dads).
From across the room you can feel a pair of eyes on you, practically burning a hole into your flesh from his heated gaze. Jeongin was sat at your assigned table, a drink forgotten in front of him while he stared you down. His gaze is enough to set you aflame, cheeks reddened from how intense his eyes felt against you, not so subtly running along your body. The boy was practically eye fucking you from across the room, not a shameful bone in his body. It was quite distracting as you tried to introduce yourself to Jun’s grandmother.
The two of you make eye contact and it’s impossible to look away, his deep chocolate eyes captivating you. Jeongin’s tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip, your eyes following the movement and the cheeky fucker smirks, knowing he’s caught you in his web. With a subtle nod towards the bathrooms, he gets up, suddenly paying you no mind before striding in the direction he directed you to. It leaves you a little mystified, blinking and frozen in place. You clear your throat, turning to Jun with a small smile.
“Excuse me Junnie,” You mumble before escaping the male’s grasp, but he lets you go easily enough, too caught up in a different conversation.
As you make your way towards the bathrooms there’s a sense of heat that starts to fill your lower belly, a wave on anticipation for whatever Jeongin has up his sleeve. It fills you with excitement, hands practically shaking as you open the door.
The bathrooms are one of those fancy single ones, lights dim and fancy expensive soap. You don’t have time to admire the decore as Jeongin pins you back against the door, the tell tale click of the door being locked. He doesn’t hesitate to press his lips to yours, practically devouring you. It’s all teeth and tongue, groaning into your mouth desperately. The sound goes straight to your pussy.
Jeongin presses against you, already hard in his slacks, hips rutting up against you.
“Fuck. Do you even know how good you look?” His voice is raspy and deep, sounding already so gone. You can’t help but giggle, rather enjoying the effect you have on the boy.
“Mm, I have no idea,” You singsong. “Maybe you should tell me,” Your words illicit another groan from the boy before he’s picking you up and carrying you over to the counter and setting you down there. Perhaps the way he had lifted you up like it was nothing turned you on further, it would seem your baby bread has been accompaning his hyungs to the gym more often.
Jeongin runs his hands up until they’re splayed across your thighs, easy access thanks to the slit in your dress. His lips are on yours again, this time much softer, taking his time to savor your taste. Meanwhile his hands grope and squish at the soft flesh of your thighs, fingers running up until they hook under the waistband of your panties, pulling them down to your ankles.
You let out a gasp as his long fingers make contact with your wet core and Jeongin takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into your awaiting mouth. You’re completely at his mercy, deft fingers circling your clit and his tongue stealing your breath away.
“So wet,” His voice is deep, slightly gruff as he nips at your now swollen tiers. “Eager are we?” The cocky tone makes you want to roll your eyes at him, but they’re rolling to the back of your head anyway as he easily slides a digit into your core, a whine falling from your lips. “Look so good like this for me,”
You can vaguely hear the sound of the music that’s blasting in the venue, the walls of the bathroom muting it but even then, the sound of your slick echoes lewdly in your ear and it heats your body up.
Jeongin is so content like this, watching you fall apart on the counter, soft moans filtering from your lips as he’s lazily thrusts his fingers into you. As much as he would love to take his time with you, his cock is starting to ache, still trapped in the confines of his slacks.
“Can I fuck you baby?” He asks against your ear, pressing soft kisses to your earlobe and trailing them down your neck. You nod your head, probably a little too eagerly but there’s pretty much nothing on your mind besides Jeongin’s cock splitting you in half. But then you remember something important and it makes you whine.
“Innie…you don’t have a condom do you?”
The question makes him freeze and if he wasn’t literally two fingers deep in your cunt you would have laughed at his bewildered facial expression. But then suddenly he’s pulling out of you, a whimper leaving your lips at the loss of his fingers filling you up. Jeongin is frantically patting at his slacks, as if searching for something, leaving you slightly baffled at the sight. Finally he pulls his wallet out and from it, produces a singular condom.
“Seungminnie hyung said I should keep one in my wallet just in case…never really thought anything about it. I’m gonna kiss that man later,” His words make you snort, shaking your head at how silly he is. But if you were honest, you’d probably kiss Seungmin later for the same reason.
The two of you don’t waste anymore time, remembering you are in a public space, at your best friends wedding for goodness sake. In your defense, your brain is no longer working, especially when Jeongin is bending you over the (very nice) counter, moving the skirt of your dress aside and slipping your panties down your legs.
You arch your back just slightly, legs spreading to give the boy a peak at your glistening folds and Jeongin swears he could probably cum in his pants. He’s quick to slide the condom over his almost painful erection, coming close to press his chest to your back, trailing kisses along your shoulder. He ruts his cock against your soaked core before positioning in front of your entrance. With how aroused you are, it’s an easily glide in, just a slight stretch that feels all too good.
Jeongin lets out a borderline pornographic moan when he bottoms out, your wet warm heat squeezing his cock feels heavenly and he already knows he’s not gonna last very long. He shudders against your body as he holds you tightly, large hands splayed across your torso.
“Fuck- You feel so fucking good,” He groans, needing just a second to calm himself down before he blows his load already. You can barely register his words, not faring any better. The sensation of being so full, of having your soulmates cock buried inside your heat is a feeling you don’t think you’ll ever get used to.
The two of you simply relish in the moment for a second and while maybe Jeongin might have jumped the gun on your first time together, he promises that the next time he’ll take his time to savor you. For now he just wants to feel you coming apart on his cock.
He moves his hips rather expertly, rocking into you with strong thrusts and you feel yourself further melting into the cool counter, the drag of Jeongin’s cock against your gummy walls feels too fucking good. Any and all thoughts are leaving your head, the only thing you care about is the heady pleasure that builds steadily in the pit of your stomach.
Jeongin is pressed flush against your back, sucking marks into your skin and whispering sweet dirty words into your ear and you feel yourself getting closer and closer to your peak.
“Such a good girl, hm? Taking my cock so well. You feel so good baby…I’m not gonna last long,” He nips at the back of your ear and you nod your head in agreement.
“Innie! I-Innie…” You’re mumbling his name over and over like a chant, your walls clenching around his length sporatically. “I’m so close…gonna, gonna cum,” You gasp out, the rubber band threatening to snap each time the tip of his cock hits that spot deep inside of you. He brings a finger to your clit, rubbing the swollen button in circles.
“Go ahead baby, cum all over my cock,” He says with a grunt, thrusts somehow getting even harsher and the sound of skin slapping reverberates against the walls.
It doesn’t take much longer before you’re gushing around his cock, coming with a whimper. Jeongin does his best to fuck you through your orgasm but with the way your walls clench around him has him spilling into the condom not too far after you. Both of you need a moment to catch your breath, slowly coming down from the euphoria of such an act. Jeongin seems to collect himself before you, not even noticing him pulling out. You only finally come out of your haze when you feel something damp against your skin.
Jeongin is cleaning you up, even if he didn’t cum inside, you can still feel your own release against your thighs. Slowly, he also helps you pull your panties back up before picking you up to settle you on the counter. He fusses over you, smoothing your hair down and fixing your dress and your heart flutters in your chest at how attentive the younger boy is after having just dicked you down. You giggle before wrapping your arms around him, pulling him into a sweet kiss, one that he happily melts into.
When you two pull away, he’s giving you that bright fox-like smile, dimples practically blinding you as he helps you off the counter.
“C’mon baby. Let’s go dance and hope that your friends didn’t notice your disappearance,” You snort.
“Even if they didn’t, I think the hickies speak for themselves,” Jeongin has the gall to blush, his tongue running along his teeth.
“Sorry, not sorry,”
“You are such a brat,”
“Guilty!”
You roll your eyes, spanking him before moving towards the door.
“Let’s go dance baby bread,”
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bullet-prooflove · 3 days
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All About You: Dean Archer (Part 2)
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Tagging: @kmc1989 @mandy426 @helsinkibaby @hufflepuffgirl
Sequel to All About You (NSFW)
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Dean pulls out all the stops tonight. He brings home dinner from your favourite restaurant, he runs you a bath. He even turns off his cell phone and yours, because tonight, he doesn’t want any interruptions. He’s taking care of his wife come hell or highwater.
Dean lowers the lights in the bedroom, he’s old fashioned and prefers dimmer switches because he likes to set the mood, it helps to settle him after a long day. He’s clad in his bedtime clothes, a navy blue t-shirt and pyjama bottoms.
When you step out of the bathroom you’re wearing the peach silk robe he bought for you on your honeymoon. Your skin is flushed from the heat, you look happy, relaxed, content. It occurs to him that this is probably the first time you’ve done something for yourself over the past few days, you’re always taking care of everyone else. The families of the people you have on your table, your interns and him, you’re always taking care of him.
He's already warming the massage oil between his hands, he noticed you were a little stiff when you’d finished ruining him this morning. He knows you carry a lot of tension in your shoulders and your lower back.
“I promised you I’d look after you tonight.” He tells you before tilting his head towards the bed.
“Lucky me.” You say as you allow the robe to slip from your body.
“No.” He says with an appreciative look. “Lucky me.”
It’s been a while since he’s been able to admire you in your full glory. The last couple of weeks your love making has been hurried and rushed, he doesn’t mind a quickie every now and then but he misses the sensuality that comes with being with you completely.
You lie on your stomach and Dean straddles your hips, distributing his weight into his knees. He starts at your shoulders, the heel of his palm pressing against the knot underneath the curve of your shoulder. You moan at the sensation and that sound, Christ, he’s hard already.
His hands sweep lower, massaging, caressing, teasing until your making those sweet little noises, the ones he loves to hear.
“Turn over.” He murmurs as he shifts off you. He picks up the towel he set aside, using it to wipe his hands as you do as he requests.
He takes his time loving you, his lips brushing over your skin until your fingers thread through his hair and your hips arch against his mouth. You’re close, so close he can taste it, his tongue delves lower, thrusting inside you and you fall apart completely. He coaxes you through it with tender, gentle kisses that draw out your orgasm before he works his way back up your body.
“I missed that.” You murmur as his lips trail over the curve of your throat. “I’d almost forgotten how good you were with your mouth.”
“We can’t have that.” Dean tuts as his thumb chases over the line of your jaw. “I’ll just have to find a way to keep reminding you.”
“How about we focus on the other thing I’ve been missing?” You tease as your fingertips trail along the waistband of his pyjamas.
“Oh.” Dean smiles against your skin. “I think we can certainly focus on that.”
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The Decay of Complex Characters and Character Development in Helluva Boss (Stolas and Octavia’s Relationship: Part 2 of 2)
Part 1 here
I felt I had to make separate part just for “Seeing Stars” because my other post was getting way too long, and I wanted to really focus on the treatment of Stolas and Octavia’s by the writers.
Please know that this is JUST my opinion and not a personal attack on HB’s writers or creators. I’m talking and venting a bit about my personal frustrations with the series regarding what I perceive as being MAJOR plot holes and inconsistencies in the show’s writing.
As of right now—and I do want to acknowledge this could change, but as of right now—it largely seems like any character development Stolas may have gone through after “Loo Loo Land” has been completely tossed out the window.
I personally believe that the writers of Helluva Boss think that they are writing Stolas to be more complex, but he has yet to have to actually be held accountable for his actions, and for breaking his promises to Octavia.
And the way the writers present him has really come to bother me. So I wanted to talk more about it, and about how Stolas cannot become a well-written, complex, and engaging character until the writers let him actually be imperfect and complex.
To talk about this more in depth, I gotta go over the second episode that features Octavia, Season 2, Episode 2 of Helluva Boss—“Seeing Stars”
(TLDR at the end)
To start, “Seeing Stars” is narratively very similar to “Loo Loo Land”. By “very similar” I mean that it’s almost the exact same plot, but frustratingly more clunky. Here is an extremely short summary:
The main crux of the conflict in “Seeing Stars” is that Stolas forgot about a promise he made to Octavia to go see a meteor shower, and ends up neglecting her.
Specifically, he forgets because he is too busy yelling at Stella over the phone due to their contentious divorce. Octavia feels let down by her father again, and runs away to the human realm to see the meteor shower on her own.
Stolas and I.M.P. panic and go after her. Eventually Loona finds her and gives her a speech that essentially boils down to: “everyone’s got hardships and problems but Dads ESPECIALLY have problems. Your Dad is trying really hard right now. So that should count for something right?”
And that comforts Octavia in the moment. Octavia and Stolas reunite, he asks her why she ran away, and she tells him she was trying to see the meteor shower he promised to take her to. Stolas is horrified that he’d forgotten, starts to apologize, but Octavia cuts him off and tells him “it’s okay”, forgiving him.
I rewatched “Seeing Stars” before making this post to make sure I hadn’t misremembered any crucial plot points.
I thought I remembered that, at the very end of the episode, Stolas apologized to Octavia for breaking his promise and then she told him it was okay.
It turns out I had misremembered things, because the writers literally kept Stolas from saying sorry.
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This leads to the main criticism I have of Stolas as a character, especially from a writing standpoint. The narrative does not allow for Stolas to ever truly be in the wrong, or for anyone, including Stolas, to fully acknowledge that he is in the wrong.
And I know that it’s easy to go “BUT LOOK! Octavia says “I know, Dad”! She KNOWS that Stolas is sorry.
That’s fair, but for me personally, I think an EARNEST and verbal apology is needed here to show that Stolas has grown.
I’m very lucky in that I have a good relationship with my parents, but that doesn’t mean we never fought or they never said or did things that hurt me.
I distinctly remember a time when my Mom was apologizing to me for something she did, I said “it’s okay” and she immediately replied “No, it’s not okay. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry, and I hope you can forgive me”.
That really changed my perspective on conflict. I think a lot of people, including myself until then, consider “it’s okay” to be a form of saying “I forgive you”. And I’m not trying to police like…basic language and substitute words. But I DO strongly believe in taking responsibility for when you hurt someone.
In all honesty, I think this scene actually could have worked for Stolas’ character development if he had actually acknowledged that, “No, it’s not. It’s not okay that I broke my promise to you. I’m sorry, and I hope you can forgive me, but if you can’t right now, I understand.”
THAT, to me, shows character development. That would’ve shown that Stolas is, at the very least, trying to make an actual effort to change for the sake of Octavia.
Instead, though, SHE apologizes Stolas for running away to try and see the meteor shower that HE promised to take her to. And the writers refuse to even let Stolas say he’s sorry.
Let Stolas say he’s sorry, writers! Let Stolas be in the wrong!!! I promise it won’t make people hate his character!
I mean, jfc, just look at the fandom around Hazbin’s Valentino. That guy could not be more evil if he tried and a lot of fans can’t seem to get enough of him.
My other issue with the treatment of Octavia in this episode, SPECIFICALLY the speech that Loona gives Octavia near the end.
Because. Oof. There’s a lot to unpack. Firstly:
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Maybe it’s just me, but I find the way the writers have Loona frame this situation as being really really weird. To be clear, I don’t think it starts off too badly. Everyone DOES have issues, and that can affect the way they act and treat others and make mistakes.
That said, dads are not inherently more messed up or dealing with more difficulties than anyone else.
Dads have issues the same as any other person, but they don’t get special privileges or passes because they’re dads. They’re responsible for themselves like every other person with issues and difficulties, and they’re still responsible for themselves and their mistakes.
It’s especially frustrating because the writers are using Stolas’ “issues” as a crutch to excuse their bad behavior. This happens a lot with writers trying to excuse or justify their character’s actions. The “issues” can be anything from a difficult childhood, relationship troubles or divorce, a traumatic experience, etc. but these things should never be used as a way to excuse a character’s every mistake and flaw.
Effective writing will use a character’s history to explain the reasons a character acts or behaves a certain way, not excuse that behavior. This leads to characters that the audience can become more invested in, and can form different opinions or interpretations about.
A really great example of this is Bojack Horseman, whose terrible upbringing and abuse definitely garner audience sympathy, but the writers never use this to as a justification for the Bojack’s behaviors. Bojack continually makes really terrible choices that hurt the people he cares about the most, and while we as the audience still sympathize with him to an extent, we still get frustrated with Bojack, and be disappointed by him.
The audience finally gets some catharsis from this frustration when Bojack is called out by his best friend Todd for this, after he finally breaks any remaining trust in their friendship with the following quote:
“You can’t keep doing this! You can’t keep doing shitty things, and then feel bad about yourself like that makes it okay! You need to be better! [Bojack apologizes and then continues to make excuses] …BoJack, stop. You are all the things that are wrong with you. It's not the alcohol, or the drugs, or any of the shitty things that happened in your career, or when you were a kid—It's you. Alright? It's you. Fuck, man. What else is there to say?”
In my opinion, Helluva Boss’ writers seem to be determined to write the exact opposite of this sentiment.
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The writers frame Loona’s speech to Octavia as a heartwarming moment—a moment where Loona helps Octavia realize that Stolas cares about her and is trying his best, so Octavia should cut him some slack.
This is, quite frankly, a BAFFLING scene because Loona’s behavior for the ENTIRE EPISODE is her assaulting and yelling at her dad. Like, she has given Blitzø absolutely NO slack before this moment, and then doesn’t give him any in the scene DIRECTLY after this, where she assaults him again while he’s in the middle of apologizing to her.
Not only is it odd to have Loona tell Octavia all of this and then not act on it herself, but the whole scene really reads as the writers trying to sweep Octavia’s very valid and real feelings of hurt over her father’s neglect under the rug.
And look. Trying to be better can be important. Trying to change and be better IS worthy of being acknowledged. But at a certain point, as Todd points out to Bojack, you have to actually be better.
In part 1, I talked about how the end of “Looloo Land” had set things up for Stolas to start being more conscientious of Octavia’s feelings and needs. He took the first step of making amends with her, of listening to her and her concerns and fears.
“Seeing Stars” was an episode that could have shown him being better. But instead. Well.
In her speech to Octavia Loona says this:
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And to be fair, Loona didn’t know what hijinks Stolas and Blitzø were getting up to in the city. She probably did think Stolas was looking for her.
…Except…he kind of wasn’t…
During the search for Octavia, Blitzø gets mistaken for a famous Hollywood actor, and he and Stolas are essentially kidnapped to be in a sitcom. When this first happens, Stolas is anxious, clearly upset that there search has been further impeded:
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He’s scared that Octavia could be in danger, or hurt. Stolas seemingly wants to find her as soon as possible.
Well. Once they get to the Hollywood sitcom shoot, the following scenes happen:
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STOLAS WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING???? YOU JUST SAID THAT YOU DIDNT HAVE TIME FOR THIS ??? BLITZØ DIDNT EVEN WANT TO PERFORM, AND YOU MADE HIM! WHY?!?! YOU DONT OWE THESE PEOPLE ANYTHING? THE TV PRODUCER EVEN LEFT THE ROOM BEFORE THE SHOW STARTED, NO ONE WAS KEEPING YOU THERE!!!
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WHY ARE YOU INVESTED IN THIS AND WORRIED ABOUT THE AUDIENCE NOT LAUGHING?!?! STOLAS YOU LITERALLY JUST SAID YOUR DAUGHTER COULD BE IN DANGER IN THE VAN, WHY ARE YOU SUDDENLY SO CONCERNED WITH MAKING BLITZØ ACT IN THIS SITCOM???? STOLAS YOU DONT KNOW WHERE YOUR FUCKING DAUGHTER IS?!?!?
I just…I’m sorry, I just think this episode is so so clunky and so poorly written. I think it may be one of the episodes with the least consistent character writing.
The scene continues, Stolas gets distracted by how attractive he finds Blitzø, and Blitzø acts in the sitcom for so long that even Stolas looks bored and out of it.
At this point in the story, he doesn’t know where his daughter is, if she’s hurt, or in danger, or even why she ran away in the first place. But instead of that taking the absolute top priority for him, he takes time to watch Blitzø make bad jokes in a wig for the whole afternoon.
Stolas isn’t even the one to get them out of the Hollywood studio, Blitzø is. Blitzø has a panic attack about the thought of Loona being taken from him during the sitcom shoot, and that’s what sparks them escaping.
The two escape the studio and meet up with Octavia and Loona, and the episode ends with Octavia apologizing for running away, and Stolas not having to apologize to her for his mistakes because Octavia already knows he’s sorry.
In Part 1, I talked about how at the end of “Loo Loo Land”, the writers set up the building blocks for Stolas’s character development in regards to his relationship with Octavia. S1 E2 of Helluva Boss ends with Stolas listening to his daughter, realizing his actions hurt her, and acting like he’s going to start putting her first.
“Seeing Stars” undoes all of that development. Which wasn’t even that much character development in the first place. Just the kicking off point for Stolas’ growth as a character.
Reviewing this episode made me realize that Stolas’ character development may have actually regressed. He doesn’t keep his promise to Octavia, he starts flirting with Blitzø when he should be looking for her, and wastes valuable time fucking around with Blitzø on a sitcom set.
And listen, I KNOW that Blitzø got Loona to look for Octavia right after he and Stolas got kidnapped by the tv producers. But after they get out of the Van, WHY does Stolas just continue to go along with it? He was so concerned and scared for Via before, wouldn’t he want to get back to looking for her as soon as possible?? And have as many people as possible working on finding her???
Blitzø doesn’t even want to go on the sitcom and for some reason Stolas makes him! The tv producer had left the room at that point too, and Stolas is a DEMON PRINCE, no one was keeping them there!
Stolas gives the reason for Blitzø needing to perform to be “so they can get back to looking for Via” but they can just do that without having to be in the sitcom?
I think the writers might have written dramatic irony into the story without meaning to? Loona tells Octavia that “[Stolas is] down there. Looking for you”, but we as the audience know that’s not true. Stolas wasn’t looking for his daughter. He was watching Blitzø star in a bad sitcom for 5 hours.
This becomes extra frustrating and gut-wrenching for me when I think about Octavia right before Loona’s speech about how “dads are special and have it extra extra bad and try extra extra hard and that’s super important, even if they fuck up and hurt you”
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This scene is absolutely heartbreaking to me. This is a 17 year old girl who has been repeatedly let down by one of the people she looked up to and relied upon the most, who rightfully feels abandoned and like she no longer has a home.
Specifically the line “Why does he hate [my mum] more than he loves me?” hits extra hard.
I don’t know what it’s like to have divorced parents, but I can imagine that anyone who has may have had this exact thought. Octavia needs support more now than ever, and keeps getting let down by the adults around her, and it just breaks my heart to see this young vulnerable girl not really have anyone who acknowledges that what Stolas did was hurtful. That it wasn’t okay, and that she’s allowed to be upset about it.
The reason she exists in the story isn’t to be her own person and to have character development of her own. She exists just to be Stolas’ daughter, and to forgive him for his wrongdoings and make him seem like a “good” person because even though he has issues, he still loves her! That makes him a good dad!
And I don’t know how Octavia is broadly accepted in the HB fandom, but I’ve heard that she may not be liked very well, and I don’t understand how anyone could see this scene and think she’s annoying or terrible.
Honestly, I would NOT be as frustrated and disappointed by the writing in this episode, if the writers and the fandom at large didn’t treat this episode like it had a heartwarming and satisfying resolution. If the writers treated Stolas as a complex person who is able to make mistakes, and who still really needs to own up to his actions and take responsibility for his broken promises, I would probably like him a lot more as a complex and nuanced character.
But the way the writers frame Stolas as being in the right, or being the victim, or being fully justified in all his actions isn’t just bad writing. It’s boring. Stolas is a boring character because the writers do not allow him to be in the wrong, to be morally ambiguous or dark, or to be called out or held accountable for his mistakes.
The writers MAY somehow undo the damage they already did in “Seeing Stars”, but given the way that the writers, show creators, and fandom go out of their way to excuse any morally grey, questionable, or harmful decisions Stolas makes, I’m not going to hold my breath.
TLDR:
-Despite Octavia being hurt by Stolas again, the writers refuse to put him in any situation where he’s held accountable for his mistakes
-The writers use Stolas’ “issues” to excuse away his bad behavior. And specify that Octavia should cut Stolas some slack because he’s a dad and being a dad is extra hard I guess?
-the framing of the episode acts like Stolas did everything in his power to look for Octavia when he clearly didn’t (he was goofing off with Blitzø)
-Stolas is ultimately uninteresting and not engaging as a character because the writers go out of their way to excuse his behavior and mistakes even when he’s in the wrong.
-Stolas cannot be a complex character if he is always absolved of the consequences of his actions and is not allowed by the writers to be better (in my opinion)
Also sidebar—WHY DID HE NOT CALL OCTAVIA ON HER PHONE!?!
In the VERY first episode of HB Stolas is LITERALLY INTRODUCED TO US by calling Blitzø on his phone and watching Blitzø in the human world from hell, without the use of his Grimoire!! HE HAS THE POWER TO DO THAT!!!
I was like, maybe Octavia didn’t have her phone for a SECOND before remembering that LOONA FINDS OCTAVIA BY LOOKING AT THE PICTURES SHES POSTING TO SOCIAL MEDIA WITH HER PHONE.
Like Stolas do you not know ur own daughters phone number. AND YOURE GIVING BLITZØ A HARD TIME ABOUT NOT KNOWING MOXXIE’S?? Also when Blitzø is in danger you can pinpoint his exact location, travel to the human world without the grimoire terrify and reveal your existence to MULTIPLE humans with absolute disregard for being discovered, but when your OWN DAUGHTER is missing and you have NO idea why or if she’s in danger, suddenly you have time to run around LA for a day getting into shenanigans???? She’s your DAUGHTER. No wonder she doesn’t think you care about her because I sure as hell don’t after that episode. Lord.
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👏people👏don't👏owe👏you👏their👏identity👏sexuality👏and/or👏details👏regarding👏personal👏life👏just👏because👏they're👏in👏the👏public👏eye👏
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saja-star · 4 months
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I've had a hard time articulating to people just how fundamental spinning used to be in people's lives, and how eerie it is that it's vanished so entirely. It occurred to me today that it's a bit like if in the future all food was made by machine, and people forgot what farming and cooking were. Not just that they forgot how to do it; they had never heard of it.
When they use phrases like "spinning yarns" for telling stories or "heckling a performer" without understanding where they come from, I imagine a scene in the future where someone uses the phrase "stir the pot" to mean "cause a disagreement" and I say, did you know a pot used to be a container for heating food, and stirring was a way of combining different components of food together? "Wow, you're full of weird facts! How do you even know that?"
When I say I spin and people say "What, like you do exercise bikes? Is that a kind of dancing? What's drafting? What's a hackle?" it's like if I started talking about my cooking hobby and my friend asked "What's salt? Also, what's cooking?" Well, you see, there are a lot of stages to food preparation, starting with planting crops, and cooking is one of the later stages. Salt is a chemical used in cooking which mostly alters the flavor of the food but can also be used for other things, like drawing out moisture...
"Wow, that sounds so complicated. You must have done a lot of research. You're so good at cooking!" I'm really not. In the past, children started learning about cooking as early as age five ("Isn't that child labor?"), and many people cooked every day their whole lives ("Man, people worked so hard back then."). And that's just an average person, not to mention people called "chefs" who did it professionally. I go to the historic preservation center to use their stove once or twice a week, and I started learning a couple years ago. So what I know is less sophisticated than what some children could do back in the day.
"Can you make me a snickers bar?" No, that would be pretty hard. I just make sandwiches mostly. Sometimes I do scrambled eggs. "Oh, I would've thought a snickers bar would be way more basic than eggs. They seem so simple!"
Haven't you ever wondered where food comes from? I ask them. When you were a kid, did you ever pick apart the different colored bits in your food and wonder what it was made of? "No, I never really thought about it." Did you know rice balls are called that because they're made from part of a plant called rice? "Oh haha, that's so weird. I thought 'rice' was just an adjective for anything that was soft and white."
People always ask me why I took up spinning. Isn't it weird that there are things we take so much for granted that we don't even notice when they're gone? Isn't it strange that something which has been part of humanity all across the planet since the Neanderthals is being forgotten in our generation? Isn't it funny that when knowledge dies, it leaves behind a ghost, just like a person? Don't you want to commune with it?
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coldvampire · 5 months
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i think it’s time for another social break.
#to be clear this isn’t in relation to current events#it’s just about my personal life.#I’m back stuck in that cycle where I feel like I don’t have friends > I lose energy and motivation to socialize#& seeing stuff w other people who are Not in that cycle makes it. so much worse. lol.#yes yes hypocrite moment I know I’m also busy I know adult life makes it hard etc etc I’m still going to feel#emotions about it.#idk as much as I say living near people would be ideal for happy surface reasons truthfully I think if I’m not in someone line of sight#I get forgotten#like roommates are great (sometimes) bc forced proximity means there’s something built in#I say plural bc I also know you need to rotate socially. better for everyone involved.#like idk. I don’t know how to stop feeling this way or how to break out of it#and getting my ass away from social media is really the only way I know to stop me from getting Extremely hurt and jealous lmao#I’m bad at maintaining connection after a while and I think bc at the start of friendships I usually Do have the energy to be the ‘starter’#or planner or w/e when I start to wane a bit it goes unnoticed. so it’s back into the cycle. and I’m not sure if this will ever stop being#a thing for me? also I can’t blame anyone for seeing that and Not wanting to reach out bc like. why would you#as great as I can be short term I don’t feel like I’m worth the trouble once I pass a certain ‘expiration date’#so as much as I’d want to be more mad about it I can’t really be bc I Get It. I do. but it’s still depressing.#it’s so stupid of me really bc I do this ridiculous thing where I’ll Light Up when I feel like someone’s interested bc it’s nice!#its a nice feeling! so naturally it’ll make me perk up a bit more even if I’m feeling otherwise low#and it doesn’t take much so maybe I’m giving the impression I take effort? idk I know I can be skittish at first. I don’t want to come on#strong or annoying. (we’re all annoying kill the cringe etc etc but if you want friends you need to sync up at least)#but maybe that’s off putting?? I don’t know. I’m out of ideas on how to be.#I haven’t even had the energy to make content or really even think about my characters bc it feels like there’s no point. sometimes in the#past I could at least rely on that a bit to be a sort of bridge to reach out to people with but I just don’t feel like I’m able to.#the posts I made just steadily got less and less interest over the spring and summer and I always felt like#in servers I’d just suck the air out of the room bc people felt polite but uninterested.#everyone else was also able to move past and be friends outside of that and I just never could manage even over multiple years sometimes#and over time that’s just weighed on me a lot. no matter where I go I always end up feeling like I’m supposed to be temporary#social filler. how do you end up meeting people when it just constantly recoil from your efforts?#being weird isn’t as fun when it’s the Wrong Kind.
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deadsetobsessions · 3 months
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Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.1
[Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5][Pt.6][Pt.7]
As someone who lived in the middle of nowhere, Amity, the ocean both terrified and enthralled Danny Fenton.
The first time his parents took him to the beach, it was the middle of the day and he’d been stuck in the prototype GAV for hours upon hours on their “quick, ghost rumor hunting field trip.”
It wasn’t quick, and they caught exactly zero ghosts. When Danny saw the expanse of sand underneath the summer sun, he and Jazz both bounded out of the van like feral little monkeys. Danny and Jazz sprinted down the sand, their parents ambling behind them with their arms loaded up with towels, a first aid kit, and an ungodly amount of mildly ecto contaminated food that they already fought before getting onto the beach.
Danny had splashed into the water, yelped at the freezing temperature, and then promptly found a shell to keep. His mom taught him how to swim with the waves, having come from Surf City herself, and his dad taught Jazz how to dive.
It was a day full of fond memories, especially the memory of the Great War of Sand-Castle Crushing he and Jazz waged against each other.
They stuck around for the sunset, the ripples of colors and peacefulness that swept across the vast waters caught Danny in its hold.
He hadn’t forgotten that moment. Not even when he died.
After a particularly hard day as Phantom, Danny would fly to the coast and loose hours just sitting on the sand and watching the waves lap against the shore. And when those nights were clear? It felt like a slice of his own personal heaven, with the stars shining on his shoulders and the encompassing crash of the waves sheltering his heart.
And on some days, when being Danny left him frustrated, Danny would fly out to the coast and use his intangibility to walk beneath the waves. Near the coast, it’s cloudy with swirls of moving sand and disturbed waters. He walked, and walked, and floated and floated beneath the waters, taking contentment from the way the moonlight of his stars filtered through the water. He admired the way light would glint on the scales of fish and crustaceans alike as he floated beneath the surface. On those days, Danny would pick up trash and polluted things and bring them to shore, to place in the trash cans and all of the recycling cans. He picked up shells and decorated the beaches he frequented, because if it were decorated, perhaps people would refrain from chucking their waste into the sea.
Well, usually, it’d be trash.
Danny watched speechlessly, jaw cracked open just a smidge, as an explosion happened right over his head. The distortion of the water did not hide the fact that there were large chunks of plane pelting down at him, a different figure flying away from the explosion. Danny went invisible and intangible as large metal pieces plunged into his current water space.
“Gosh, people these days,” he huffed. “This is gonna take forever to…”
Danny trailed off, seeing a humanoid shape crash into the water, clearly unconscious. Danny didn’t hesitate before shooting towards the drowning person, glowing green and fully visible again. The stranger’s eyes- holy shit, that’s Batman- turned towards him before closing behind cracked open lenses. Batman slumped falling unconscious. That’s not good.
Danny rocketed out of the water with the vigilante in his arms. If it weren’t for his supernatural strength, there’s no way lanky teenage Danny would have been able to carry Batman’s grown ass built like a tank self to the shore. Likewise, if it weren’t for his strength, Danny wouldn’t have been able to start chest compressions through the layers of armor.
Danny leaned back with a sigh as Batman coughed out only a bit of water, because Danny hadn’t taken all that long to get to him, and held up his hands in a “I don’t have weapons” way as Batman whirled to him.
“Hi. Are you alright?” Danny asked, ectoplasm and instinctive ghost speak fuzzing his words a bit. Damn, Batman must have nearly died a lot. He’ll freak out about meeting Batman later.
“You saved me,” an awkward pause. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. The other guy went that way.”
Danny waved vaguely.
“…What are you?”
“Oh my god, Batman, you can’t just ask someone what they are!” He immediately replied, inwardly smacking himself for the joke. He watched Batman’s face, watching for any sign of discrimination against ghosts, or any sign the man had a sense of humor.
“…”
Neither, apparently, was the answer.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m just here to clean up the beaches. You humans really like to pollute the beaches. It’s quite rude, you know. That plane of yours, well, it’s not your fault,” he amended. “But it’s gonna damage sea life. And I don’t know if you’re in the habit, but please don’t litter on the beach or in the water, especially with your unconscious body. It’s tedious to clean.”
“…I see.”
“Stay. I’ll take out your plane. Make sure it doesn’t stay on the sand, alright?”
With that, Danny stood. Unaware of the way the moonlight lit up his hair like white flames and accentuated the sharp points of his ears, Danny turned away and flew back to the plane site, dragging the pieces up with ease.
Batman sat on the sand, likely exhausted from his fight, and watched him carry the pieces of the aircraft up.
“Here. All done. I gotta get going,” because Danny has school and this just lost him two hours. “Will you be alright?”
Batman nodded once, sharply.
“Good.” Danny went invisible, watching Batman sat up straighter, glancing around in a suddenly visible awareness. Oh, well. Tucker’s gonna freak out.
——
Three years later, Danny’s moved to Gotham for university.
And after midterm season, Danny went for a ghostly walk, but this time, in the waters surrounding Gotham.
When he surfaced, Batman was crouching on a lamp post, waiting for him.
“Oh, it’s you,” Danny said. “Hello. Did you know that people are polluting these waters with bodies too?”
“Yes,” Batman said, graveled voice resounding on the shipping containers around them.
“You should do something about that. Do you like places that are polluted?”
Batman sighed. “What are you?”
Danny hears a small, tinny voice by Batman’s ear, coming from a comm.
“Oh my god, B, you can’t just ask someone what they are!”
Mind flashing back to the night Danny drug a waterlogged Batman out of the ocean, Danny cracked a smile.
“Phantom,” he said, decisively. And, because this isn’t Amity anymore, “the Beach Clean Up crew from the flip side.”
——
Bruce, waking up on the sand: wtf
Bruce, seeing a child next to him who probably saved him: wtf (in “adoption”)
Bruce, seeing Danny’s skin glitter like stars, hair aflame, and pointy ears: wtf (in “I can adopt fae folk, right?”)
Bruce, seeing that Danny doesn’t leave any footprints: wtffff (detective mind goes brrrr)
——
Bruce, after Danny leaves: *donates 20 mil towards beach clean up efforts and anti-pollution causes*
——
Bruce’s Goggle Search History, documented by Oracle:
Sea spirits
Sea vampires
How to parent supernatural kids
How to thank your sea child
Are shells a good gift?
Ocean conservation efforts
Sea spirits that glitters under moonlight
Sea spirits that cleans up beaches
Wayne corporation waste disposal
Companies that dump trash into the sea
*outgoing call to Lucius Fox*
What is “mean girls”
——
Bruce, learning “current pop culture” from his kids:
Bruce, remembering the kid who saved him and realizing he’s probably as old as his own kids are: *adoption tendencies intensifies*
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mockerycrow · 11 months
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Hey Crow! I got a stupid, silly lil idea for a request. Fem!Reader X 141+Los Vaqueros please. Basically the reader is just out of the shower, with a fresh shave and lotion and goes up to her cod man and does the “feel how smooth my legs are” thing
Freshly Shaved Legs (Task Force 141 + Los Vaqueros x Fem!Reader)
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I’m having a 400 follower celebration!!
-> You never got the proper opportunity to shave your legs on base, really. It’s not a necessity and you rarely have down-time, so you’ve forgotten about shaving. You manage to get your hands on one of the disposable razors your superiors supply for those who grow facial hair. You couldn’t find any shaving cream, so you opted for your cheap, military-issued conditioner instead. After getting back from a grueling, 3 month long mission, the first thing you did was take that shaving razor and lock yourself in a private washroom, taking your sweet time to rid yourself of all of that leg hair. You apply a motion to sooth any irritated skin, too. The first you do after getting dressed into a pair of shorts a tan t-shirt is run up to them and prop your leg up with a grin and saying, “Feel my leg.”
Alejandro Vargas
Honestly, Alejandro is the type to shave your legs for you after such hard work, so he admires his work by rubbing your legs.
He hums in satisfaction as his fingers trace your skin, looking for any nicks. He’s perfected shaving because of his beard and he grins when he finds no marks on you.
“I did well, yes?” Alejandro murmurs, looking to you for joking approval.
Alejandro laughs when you tell him the story of how you got a shaving razor, and while you do, he’s applying the after shave lotion to your legs.
Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra
He’s definitely confused at first, looking at your leg and then back at your face multiple times.
“Why?”
You simply say, “I shaved.” You grab his hand and put it on your leg. Rudy’s hesitant, but he rubs your skin and he makes a noise of surprise. “No kidding..”
Rudy smiles softly when you seem so proud of yourself. “Good job, Hermosa.”
Rudy is too occupied with how smooth your skin is to question where you got the razor, since they’re only really handed out to the people who grow beards.
John Price
He immediately raises an eyebrow and silently questions you, no doubt. His arms are crossed, a gruff “what?” leaving him.
You reiterate what you said a few seconds earlier and move your bare leg closer. Price sighs to himself as he realizes you will only leave him alone if he does as you say; so he does.
Price uncrosses his arms and his hand gently touches your soft skin at your shin and he slowly moves up, his eyebrows raising, making a sound as if he’s impressed but you can tell he’s joking. “Smooth.” He comments.
You laugh and swat at him as he states the obvious. He looks at you, the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes crinkling from the amusement he’s feeling. “Love to know your first thought when coming home was to shave your legs, love. Not to sleep, or eat..”
You can tell he’s joking and he finds it very funny.
John “Soap” MacTavish
He grins from your joy of this situation and immediately complies, feeling how soft your skin is. “Soft as a baby’s arse!” He chuckles, his thumb brushing against your shin.
“And you didn’t nick yerself, not at’all!” Soap notices, glancing at you. He laughs as you take that in stride, crossing his arms.
Soap silently wonders if he could do the same—shave his body hair, but then he gets rid of the idea because he enjoys his hair.
He’s certainly surprised you managed to get your hands on a shaving razor, but at the same time he isn’t because you’re you.
Kyle “Gaz” Garrick
He laughs at first, especially with your presentation. He’s sitting on a couch in Price’s office, waiting for the Captain to come back with paperwork. You got your leg propped up on an armrest right next to where he’s sitting.
“Feel your leg?” He questions, glancing up at you while leaning his head on his fist. This isn’t the weirdest thing you’ve asked of him, so he shrugs.
Gaz feels your leg, feeling how soft and smooth your skin has gotten. “I see you’re putting that razor I got you to good use, huh?”
You snort and swat his shoulder, murmuring a thank you. He hums, removing his hand from your leg.
Simon “Ghost” Riley
“What?”
Several seconds of silence before he questions you. You repeat yourself and Ghost stares at you blankly. You bite your lip and you’re about to apologize and walk away when he removes his glove, and you’ve never felt more glory in your life. He grumbles, “Why not?”
Not defending your teammates, not defending whole ass countries, but the moment when Ghost removes his glove and touches your leg reluctantly to feel how smooth your skin is, is when you feel most prideful.
He doesn’t say anything at first as you basically stand incredibly still like a deer in headlights. He removes his hand slides the glove back on, gruffing out, “Good job.”
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ghostskiss · 9 months
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Handle It
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Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x F!Reader WC: 5.1k Summary: Reader is taking a shower and someone decides to crash the party. Warnings: 18+ Exhibitionism (risk of getting caught), shower sex (kinda), SUB SIMON, teasing, begging, sub to dom to…sub, finger sucking, oral, fingering, penetration, overstimulation, spit, creampie
Hot water beads down your back. Well, maybe that’s a bit too generous. It’s hardly trickling out of the showerhead above you, and the water’s lukewarm at best. But it feels great, your eyes are closing, your muscles are relaxing, and you almost forget that it’s a communal shower. That anyone could walk in and join you at another showerhead, there’s several in here, meant to get a group of people clean to save time. Time’s important in the military, you know this. So does everyone else, but there’s an unspoken rule. If someone’s in the showers, you don’t join unless absolutely necessary.
Which is why you’re allowing yourself this moment. You’d announced to the group that you were hitting the showers after the operation. And true to your word, as soon as you’d stepped out of the vehicle, you beelined it to the building. Soap joked about joining you, earning a punch from someone in result. You hadn’t cared to look behind you to confirm who it was, instead you’d waved a hand over your shoulder, acknowledging that you’d heard him, but wasn’t threatened by his constant yet harmless flirts. It was how you two communicated. It was a nice break in the violence and mayhem Task Force 141 found yourselves in. Even if Ghost and Price rolled their eyes at the banter, you could tell it eased their nerves at times. It’s hard to hold onto humanity when you see the worst of it day end and day out.
Getting the bar of soap into your hands, you rub it against your skin, ridding yourself of the dirt and grime from today’s work. It’s normal to get dirty doing what you do, and yet no matter how you wash yourself, it feels as though you’re never clean. You’d scrubbed your skin raw once, after a mission, coming out of the showers with irritated skin. Still. You were never clean. Today didn’t feel like that. The operation went well. There was no killing, no torture, and for once, it was an easy day. You want to savor this feeling, knowing that today went right, how relaxing the water is, feeling somewhat clean despite the past.
A knock rings through the showers, bouncing off the walls. The soap slips through your fingers as you jump with sound, the relaxing feeling you had now long gone. The knock has authority to it. It has impatience. Gritting your teeth, you rinse off quickly before turning the knob to shut the water off. You leave the poor soap on the ground, moving to the cement wall separating the showers from the door of the building.
“What?” You call out, a little irritated. Sure, you’d been in here for a bit longer than normal. But it was the one time you’d actually felt…nice.
A deep voice from behind the closed door comes to you. You resist an urge to roll your eyes. Ghost.
“Been in there a bit. Other people would like to clean themselves before heading in for the night.”
This, you do roll your eyes at. He’s right. You’re hogging the shower, but there’s an unspoken…thing you have against Ghost. He’s stoic and a bit miserable to be around if you’re being honest. He’s too serious, all the time, he never likes to have fun, and if you and Soap are going back and forth, he’s got to voice his displeasure. You secretly think he’s jealous. You think that he either is jealous of the relationship you have with Soap, or he’s jealous of Soap. Probably the former since you two can hardly stand each other.
Sighing out, you cross your arms over your naked chest. Right, you’d almost forgotten where you were.
“Well,” you start out, a bit snarky, “there’s always room, Lt.”
You’re joking, obviously, already moving to wrap a towel around your body. Without waiting for whatever response your lieutenant is trying to muster up, you cross the space from the cement wall to the door, hand gripping the handle to wrench it open.
There he is, in all his glory, towering over you. He’s ditched the mask he wears in operations or important meetings, donning his comfortable skulled balaclava. In fact, he’s changed out of most of his gear. Bare hands, black Henley shirt rolled up to his elbows. Of course, his lower half is clothed in his usual black pants, and he still has his boots on. Yet he looks more naked and vulnerable than you do in your little white towel. He looks at a loss of words.
A playful look crosses your features, a smirk teasing your lips as you prop a hand on your hip. Before you can get a word out, Ghost shifts forward quickly with a grumble tumbling out of his chest, pushing you back into the building with his presence alone. You frown a bit as you move backwards to accommodate his size as the door behind him closes you both in, confused as he glares down at you.
“Christ, could you not waltz around in nothing but bloody a towel?”
Another attempt to not roll your eyes comes over you. “What’re you, shy? It’s not like I’m completely naked.” You gesture at yourself; it’d be as if you were wearing a strapless dress. Granted, the towel is tiny, you’re wet from the shower, and you’re definitely not wearing any panties. Still, you had no idea Ghost was such a prude.
“Really?” Ghost’s gaze trails hotly down the front of your body. Suddenly your face feels hot. He’s never once looked at you like this. Like he’d…
A shaky breath escapes you before you laugh it off, “If you can’t handle me in a towel after shower, I doubt you’d be able to handle being around me in the actual showers.” You jerk a thumb over your shoulder as you watch his gaze follow it behind you. He can see the room of showers over the wall. You think you see his jaw clench under his mask.
This is bad. You’re jokingly teasing him the way you and Soap talk. This is uncharted territory, and you’re not sure you can keep the act up. With Soap, it’s harmless fun. You both know you’re not interested in each other. It’s easy to try to get a reaction out of each other, to see who says the most ridiculous shit first. It’s a stupid game. With Ghost, it’s dangerous. It’s nerve wrecking. It’s serious because he’s serious.
Suddenly he’s looking back down at you. You try not to fidget as you stare back at him. You can’t read him. You’re about to talk to break whatever this tension is, about to tell him the showers are his.
“No, I probably can’t.”
Did his voice drop an octave? Why was it making your skin heat? What was going on right now? You feel like your brain is malfunctioning. Your gaze drops down to the broad slope of his shoulders, and down his frame, distracted a bit. Of course, he’s attractive. You’d be insane to not think so. Even if you’ve never seen his face. It’s the way he holds himself, it’s the way he’s built, it’s his damned voice, and his eyes and everything else. But he’s your lieutenant for Christ’s sake. He’s mean sometimes. He’s ruthless, a brute, a –
“Let me see. I want to try. To… handle it.”
You freeze, eyes shooting back up to his. “You -?”
His chin dips to your towel, “Take it off.”
For a moment, you’re both watching each other. Ghost’s got his eyes on yours, unwavering. He’s really serious about this, you realize. Your thighs are clenching together now, trying to relieve the ache. You were joking, you think, about him not handling it in the showers. Now you’re thinking maybe you’re the one who can’t.
Shakenly, your hands raise to the knot tied at your breast. Your actions stop for a moment, silently waiting for him to tell you to stop. The command never comes. You can’t believe you’re doing this, bearing yourself for your broody and moody higher up. For him. All because you don’t want to back out on what you started. Suddenly, you want to prove him wrong. That he can’t handle it. That you’re not affected at all by his words or actions, or more importantly his inactions. The towel drops.
It’s loud with how silent it is in the room. Who knew a damp towel could be so loud? Your gaze doesn’t leave his, holding it, even as you stand bare in front of him. A smirk quirks your lips. He’s avoiding looking at you. That’s how he thinks he can move around the situation at hand.
Testing him, your hand brushes against your own collarbone, trailing slowly -- tantalizingly slow. Still, his eyes never wander from your own. So, this is how you could play games with Ghost. It’ll be fun to see him break.
“You’re not looking,” you start, stating the obvious.
“Never said I had to. Only said that I could handle being around you.” He shrugs, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Like he won the game.
You laugh a little at that, and watch his eyes ever so slightly dip to your lips before coming back up to your eyes. Your own hands are wandering your body now, groping a bit at your chest. His hands clench at his sides.
“Are you going to take a shower, Lt?” A breathless noise leaves you as you ask, your fingers pinching one of your nipples. Fuck him. You’re so turned on right now it’s ridiculous. He doesn’t have to look. Just the thought of being here in front of him while he’s fully clothed doing this, while the two of you are alone and anyone could walk in –
“No. And quit that.” He growls out, knocking your hand away from your breast. He still hasn’t looked, but you’re guessing he’s getting a view from his peripherals.
“Quit what?” You feign innocence, your hand that’d been knocked away now dips in between your thighs eliciting a soft moan from your lips. “You said you’d try. If you’re not going to take a shower, you can watch.”
Ghost has no words for you now, his pupils dilating before your very eyes. Spreading your legs a bit wider to get a better reach on yourself, you continue. Slow pressing circles on your clit, your arousal slicking loudly in the air. Your free hand goes back up to your tits, to continue groping, pinching, pulling.
Finally, he breaks. He breaks when your pussy squelches around your own fingers, his burning gaze trailing down your body to the hand that’s pulling such noises out of you. A groan sets loose from him, and you shudder from the mere sound.
“Kneel.”
Ghost’s eyes shoot back up to yours in question.
“Kneel, I said. You can get a better look.” Your tone is set in stone. Despite the burning ache you’ve got, the need for him to touch you, you feel in control.
He hesitates for a moment before lowering himself down to the ground, knees pressing against the cement. His eyes have yet to leave yours.
“You can look but don’t touch.” Your breath hitches, arousal seeping into your very being seeing him like this. Listening to your commands. You watch his hands clench on his thighs, his attention going back to your pussy. Your breath hitches at his stare, feeling the heat of it. He doesn’t have to touch for you to feel his attention. It’s making you sloppy, messy, and wet. You keen, a brief thought of asking him to touch you, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction.
Staring down at him as your fingers continue to tease yourself, you watch him just as intently as he’s watching you. He seems fixated. You wonder if he’s drooling in his own mask. The front of his pants looks tight. His hands are clenching and unclenching on his thighs, his shoulders shuddering when you make a noise in the back of your throat. You watch him tense as you ease a finger in yourself. Your clit is throbbing, aching, begging for attention, you’re teasing yourself just as much as you’re teasing him. Slowly pumping the one finger in yourself, you press another one in, mewling out as your hips buck a little upward.
“Let me taste you.” He rushes out suddenly. Ghost’s voice is gravel, scrapping across your body. Your head nearly tips back at the sound of it, another pitiful noise leaving your mouth.
 Stay strong. Stay strong. You shake your head, unable to give him an actual answer as your fingers create a devastatingly slow pace, slick coating your fingers and thighs.
“Fuck. What’ll take? Let me taste you.” He’s demanding now, knuckles white with how hard he’s gripping the material over his thighs.
You pant, trying not to stammer. “Beg.” It comes out stronger than you feel right now. Core burning with the need to come.
“Please.” He grits out through his teeth, angry eyes coming up to your glassy ones.
“You don’t sound sincere.” You laugh breathlessly, shaking your head again. Your fingers pause, coming out to press softly against your clit. If you press any harder, you have no doubt you’ll come. You don’t want to give it to him yet. Ghost watches the action, a growl coming from him.
“Please,” he tries again, looking back up at you to see if it was good enough. It’s not and you tsk at him. “Please, let me taste your pussy. Let me put my mouth on you. Please.”
The last plead is strained, almost a whine. Your fingers dip back in, curling as you pump them again. Your head falls forward a bit with a whine of your own and you try to gather your bearings. “How are you going to taste me with your mask on?”
Quickly, he tugs it upward, only exposing his mouth. Christ. His mouth. He’s got a scar running down his lips. His jaw is clenched, and you curse whoever created him. He’s handsome, even if you’re only seeing the bottom half of his face. You watch his tongue tease his full bottom lip, his mouth opening into a soft pant. He’s eager. You catch another whine in your throat, fingers leaving your pussy to press against his mouth, covered in your own wetness. He opens his mouth, latching onto them, sucking and licking, taking anything you have to offer.
You watch with a newfound feeling. Here you have your lieutenant on the ground, kneeling and begging, sucking your fingers like it’s his God given right. Like he has something to prove. That he’s desperate enough to be debased to nothing. He’s moaning at the taste of you, following your fingers as they leave his mouth, like he’s not ready to stop cleaning yourself from them. He’s tilting closer as he watches them disappear back to your throbbing sex.
“No,” you tell him, stopping him from following your fingers all the way, “that’s all you get.” You moan out, your fingers wet with his spit now circling your clit. You need to come like this, having him at his knees in front of you.
“W-wait. Please. I’ll do anything. Fuck, please. Let me give you what you want, I can make you cum. With my mouth please –”
His begging sends you over the edge, not stopping as you cry out loudly, pussy clenching on nothing as your fingers circle and circle. It’s long and crippling, and you almost feel your knees buckle, your free hand gripping the cement wall behind you. Fuck, he’s not shutting up. It drags it out, hearing him whine and beg, a man who you thought could never be like this. You rip your hand away from yourself, panting, thankful for the wall behind you holding you up. Your thighs are quivering and wet from the orgasm, breath trying to catch up to your pounding heart.
Ghost is quiet now, looking up at you, waiting for your next move. His mouth parts, like he’s going to start up again and you hush him.
“Clean me up.”
You barely have the sentence out before he’s shooting forwards, hands gripping your thighs to make room for himself. He pulls one of your legs over his shoulder, tongue latching onto your already overstimulated clit. You cry out, hands shooting up to his masked head, trying to pull him away as he laps at your cream.
“A-ah, wait, Simon –” You start, squirming, trying to get away from his mouth and tongue. You feel him smile, the bastard.
“Think you can tease me like that? Huh?” He growls as he laps at you, tongue not missing an inch of your pussy. His words vibrate through you, not bothering to really pull away to talk. He’s violent in the way his mouth attacks you. “Think you can just do what you want to me?”
You stutter, about to apologize until he starts to add his fingers to the mix. Two thick fingers of his slam into you, pumping up as his tongue flicks your clit. You cry out, tears in your eyes as you take it. He’s going to make you come again, this fast. Too fast. You feel dizzy, vision fuzzy.
“Making me sit in front of this pretty pussy and not letting me touch or taste it.” He groans, and then chuckles as you bare down on his fingers, clenching hard. “Oh, you gonna come again pretty baby? Come on then.”
He’s mean. Meaner than you were to him. You’re panting, quivering, and aching, your pussy making obscene noises as he assaults all of your senses. You know you’re coming before you feel it. Like a delayed reaction. Gasping and bucking, he’s saying something again that you can’t register because your hearing leaves you, your sight leaves you, every sensation and thought is gone as you cry out, coming and coming again. Somehow in the midst of it, his fingers and mouth leave as you come back down to your body, and he’s holding you up, thank God. You doubt the wall behind you would’ve helped at all. Your fingers are clenched on the material of his mask, and as you blink down at him, chest heaving, you see his wet mouth smirk.
A flash of fear goes through you. This was the Ghost you know. The ruthless, cold, domineering, Simon Ghost Riley. Not the man that’d been on his knees begging. Not the man who’d let you command and tease him. He sets down the leg that’d been over his shoulder. You’re not sure if you’re still completely all together. He stands to his full height, and you shiver, trying to sink yourself back into the wall behind you as much as you can. His hand comes up to your jaw, gripping it gently as he tilts your head back.
“Open.”
You obey, lips parting, mouth opening. Nothing could prepare you for what he does next. He leans into you, pressing up hard against you, lips barely hovering your own. He spits. Fluid enters your mouth, and you moan, swallowing it up. It’s your own arousal, sweet and warm and oh. Your wet lashes flutter shut as Ghost licks the seam of your closed mouth, lapping at you before he nips and bites and kisses you. The kiss he’s giving you isn’t gentle. It’s consuming and you cry into it as your hands find purchase on his shoulders, sliding up to his neck to haul him closer to you. He answers your cry with a groan of his own, his hands cupping your ass to lift you up. Your legs come around him, locking your ankles behind his back to keep him close. Your sensitive pussy is pressed and rubbing against pants, the feeling abrasive and raw but you can’t stop from grinding against him.
 “Tell me what you want. Tell me and I’ll give it to you.” Simon mutters against your lips, licking and biting still. You’re breathless and whimpering against him, his words going straight to your core as you move against him. He’s helping you, moving with your hips, matching you move for move. You’re distracted, unable to give him an answer as you kiss him back, your trembling fingers sliding a bit under his mask to grasp the back of his neck. He hisses out in pain when your nails dig in. “I’ll give you anything baby, please. Just say the words.”
“I – I want…” you gasp, your clit pressing against the seam of his pants. You can feel his length hard and heavy against you.
“Fuck, please. Please tell me.” He’s begging again, rutting his hips up against you, hands keeping you still as he continues.
“I want you.” Is all you can muster; all you can think about saying. You swear your brain isn’t working correctly. Even before this started. You must’ve hit your head during the mission.
"Want me? Want me to what?” He stops moving.
You groan out in frustration, head tipping back a bit before you look up at him. “Please, Simon. You’re teasing me now.” You’re not sure you like how quickly the tables have turned.
Ghost laughs a bit, breathless himself. You think he’s going to drag it out further until he sees the pout furrowing your brow. “Alright. I am. I’ll give it to you.” He still keeps you wrapped up against him, one hand holding you, the other going in between the two of you. His knuckles brush against your bare sex and you moan lowly, watching him unbuckle his pants, pulling his hard cock out. Precum is dripping down the length of it and your throat dries at the sight of him.
Concern must be showing on your face with how big he is. Another chuckle from him, “You can take it pretty baby.” Your concern dies out as he slides the length against your wet pussy and you bite down on lip, trying to contain your noises. You want him in you, size be damned. He runs the tip up and down once more before pressing against your entrance, pushing in slowly. This time, you can’t contain the low moan you have. He gives it to you slowly, pumping his hips up into you, letting you adjust to his size. It’s stretching you open, and you feel like he’s splitting you in half. It’s heavy and deep and throbbing –
“Oh.” You let out, almost surprised it feels so good. Addicting. You feel drunk.
A sadistic laugh comes from the man in you, his cock slowly pumping into you. He’s being nice, giving it to you this softly. His hands are pulling you back onto his cock, pinning you against the wall and his hard body. Your legs tighten around him as your nails dig into his shoulders.
“That’s it. It’s all yours, isn’t it?” Ghost dips down to nip your lips as you whimper. “Been wanting this pussy wrapped around me for so long, baby. Fuck.” He moans lowly as you keen at his words, clenching around his girth. “Teasing me when you have no idea what I’d do to you. For you.”
He’s going slow, dragging this out as long as possible. He’s pressing in deep, rolling his hips before pulling slowly back, letting you feel every inch of him before starting all over again. It’s driving you insane. It feels like it’s going on forever, his slow thrusting. He rocks into your soaking cunt, easing his throbbing cock in you smoothly and repeatedly. Ecstasy has taken hold of every fiber of your being. You hardly feel conscious, as his words lull you into lust, his cock pacifying you into drunken state. He won’t shut up again as you cry against his lips.
“Pussy feels so good. So good. Fuck. You can have this dick whenever you want baby, just say the word and it’s yours.” He moans lowly, the sloppy sounds of your pussy and his hips thumping into you with languid strokes are overpowering your thoughts. His words make your pussy clamp down on him and he moans again, not afraid to let you hear how good you’re making him feel.
“Si—” you gasp, mouth falling open against his, trying to pull him up closer to you.
“Tell me. Tell me, sweetheart. Fuck.” He rasps against you, his hips stuttering slightly at the sound of your broken moans.
“F-fuck me. Please fuck me. Simon, please.” You beg, not afraid to be pulled down to your knees like he had been. To be debased to nothing just as you had done to him.
He’s not just pliant, he’s willing. Eager again to please you. You know he could’ve done what you had to him, teased you, made you beg more, made you want and want and need. But he gives it to you, just like he promised he would. Your pussy flares as his thrusts get heavier, deeper, faster, rougher. It’s destroying you as much as it’s freeing you and your eyes roll back a bit. God, you’re going to cum again.
A knock sounds. Not unlike the one Ghost pounded on the door earlier. You gasp, trying to stop running to the hurdle you’re launching towards. Your body doesn’t get the memo, or doesn’t care, and it certainly seems Ghost couldn’t care less that someone is right outside the door. The man makes a frustrated noise, at you or the knock, you’re not sure. He clamps his hand down over your mouth as you try to contain the noises you’re currently making. You want to tell him to stop, someone’s right there, but he keeps fucking you. God, he’s so mean and cruel and –
“Lt?”
Your heart shudders in fear. Soap. No, God, no one can see this. Ghost fucking you against the wall, completely clothed, unrushed. Despite the fear of being caught, you feel a whine catch in your throat as you thrash again Simon’s relentless fucking. He hushes you quietly, slamming roughly into you now. You stop a squeal, but just barely, a loud yet pathetic squeak leaving you as euphoria bursts through you, pussy convulsing around his cock.
“Just a sec, Johnny.” Ghost throws over his shoulder, a smile playing on his handsome face. He hardly sounds phased even when just moments ago he was the one loudly moaning into your mouth. He hardly sounds winded even with the rough thrusts he’s delivering into you, fucking you through your orgasm. You claw weakly at his chest, angry at him, still coming down from the heaven he just gave to you.
You think Soap leaves, you’re not sure, but Ghost moves his hand from your mouth, back to your ass to bring down onto his cock. He’s using you now, making you meet him thrust for thrust, drilling your G-spot with such precision that your vision fades for a second.
“No, look at me. That’s it. Good girl. You’re so pretty baby. Such a good girl. You gonna let me fill you up now? Haven’t I been good enough for you? Huh?” He’s mocking a bit, but serious. His own form of a joke that you have no power or brain to call him out on. All you’re feeling, all you’re thinking about is his cock ravaging you from the inside, still, overstimulated. Your body hardly cares. It’s right there, right at the edge, ready to jump and to give him your all. You’re too dumb, blinded with pleasure, staring up at him as he growls down at you, throbbing cock ready to give it to you when you say the words. Maybe he really is under your command after all.
A whine comes from you, frantically nodding to him, hands scrambling on him to try to find solid ground while you’re in a different time and space with the fucking he’s giving you.
“No, you have to tell me baby. Fuck, tell me I’m good baby. Tell me I was good, and I can fill you up.” Simon’s begging, whining lowly in the back of his throat, his hips getting sloppier and shorter, pounding into you.
“You’re good. You’re good. Simon, you’re good. It’s so good. Please, pleasepleaseplease come in me.” You’re begging, sobbing, actually, tears streaming down your face as you try to catch up with your body. It hurts, it hurts so fucking good, you make a long and agonized noise against his mouth, he’s kissing you again, sucking your tongue, running his against your teeth, pulling sucking overstimulating –
Simon makes his own devastated noise, a low and shattering groan of pleasure and you feel it just as you’re coming, milking him into you. His cock is surging into you, pumping hot cum with each deep thrust. He’s grinding into you, fucking you both through your orgasms, making you see stars as you cry into his mouth, fingers tearing into his back through his shirt. His hips finally still after what seems to be eternity, your pussy still clenched around him. He keeps himself deep in you as you both try to gather your bearings as well as your breath. You’re staring at each other, panting, chests heaving. He brings a shaky hand up to your cheek, cupping it as he runs his thumb over your tears. The tenderness makes your heart clench. All he’s done tonight surprised you. He leans down to place a kiss against your lips as tenderly as the thumb that stroked you. You kiss him back gently, a little worried where this was going to leave the two of you.
He pulls back, eyes bouncing in between your own. He seems to sense your worry and he sighs, pulling out slowly. You almost want to cry at the loss of him. Ghost sets you down steadily, keeping his hands on you as you wobble, legs weak. You hold onto him and look back up, ready to question what the hell this meant. He shakes his head a bit and nods towards the showers.
“I think I can handle taking a shower with you. But it’s gotta be quick baby.”
Shocked, you stare at him incredulously before you burst out into a terrible laughing fit. You’d almost forgotten how you got here in the first place. You watch his mouth quirk up into his own smile before he starts to laugh a little too. You grab his hand, tugging him with you towards the showers.
“C’mon then big boy. Show me how you handle it.”
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m00nlight-ramblings · 6 months
Text
I Wanna Be Yours
(I've had this idea since I've seen like, a million 80's movies in succession). You're close to valedictorian, a known smarty-pants. So imagine your surprise when you become friends with Eddie Munson...and then fall in love with him.
Pairing: Eddie x female reader, friends x lovers, dual pov
Warnings: smut, p in v sex, oral (f receiving), swearing
*MINORS DNI*
Word Count: 4.16k
REMINDER: My inbox is open so please request some stuff because I'm dying to write!
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"Oh, fuck where is it?" You loudly murmured, shuffling the books in your locker. They clanged around, sending soft bonk! noises and reverberations through your locker, which only made you more annoyed. You huffed, dropping your arms by your side. You only had a few minutes before you had to be in class, and you couldn't find your fucking book.
You groaned and started the process again, knowing you'd probably be fruitless - you've only checked like, 100 times, so at this point you'd just have to accept the fact that you'd somehow forgotten it at home. It also didn't help that your locker was stacked to the brim with books, folders, papers, and miscellaneous things you've collected in just a month since school started
"Um...you okay?" A voice asked behind you, startling you out of your frustrated trance. You turned to see Eddie Munson standing there, tucking a lock of his hair behind his ear and tilting his head. Slightly embarrassed, you shrugged and huffed (again).
"Yeah I just...can't find my chemistry book. And I have class in-" You checked your watch, "Seven minutes." (And it also just so happened that chemistry was your worst class so you like, really needed this damn book).
"Want me to check?" He offered, gesturing to the locker. You paused a moment, and furrowed your brow. Then, you stepped aside, giving him access to your locker. He stepped forward, leaning into the locker and started gently exploring.
"Yeah, you can try but I don't think you'll find it. I've checked, like, a hundred times and I think I just left it at home and-"
"Here it is! Chemistry you said, right? You're looking for..." Eddie took a moment to examine the cover of the book. With a boisterous (and very silly) voice, he spoke, "Chemistry 301: Principles of Organic Chemistry?"
You gasped and smiled at him, snatching the book from him and staring at it. How did he find it? "Oh my god, are you kidding? I've been looking for this thing for like, 10 minutes. Where was it?!"
Eddie chuckled, shrugging nonchalantly, "Right in the front."
You looked at him, "I could hug you right now, oh my god! Chemistry is my worst subject and I can't even focus in that class if I don't have the book with me and...ugh. You're a life saver. Thank you." You beamed, hopping on your toes a little.
You and Eddie never really spoke, but of course knew each other - everyone in Hawkins did. Having a few classes with him over the years, any conversation you ever had with him was in passing. But after him your book for you, and seeing his smile..."The Freak" didn't actually seem all that freaky at all.
"Yeah, well, no worries. I'm just a good ole knight in shining armor, I guess." He bashfully made a face, causing you to giggle. "Actually...I just wanted to come over and thank you for something."
Confused, you cocked my head to the side, "Thank me?"
Eddie nodded, stepping aside so you could close your locker, "Yeah. I heard from Wheeler the other day that he dropped all his books and shit in the hallway and you helped him grab everything," His smile was soft...if you weren't looking so hard at his face (why were you staring?), you'd have missed it, "That was nice. So...thanks."
You nodded, mirroring the small smile. "Wheeler as in...Mike Wheeler? The freshman?" You thought back to a few days ago, "Yeah...he said he tripped, but Craig from the football team was lurking around so I have a feeling Mike didn't trip all by himself," I rolled my eyes, "People can be dicks sometimes so...anyway. I know what it's like to be a freshman." You slowly started to walk to class, Eddie following in line next to you.
There was a brief moment of awkward silence before Eddie cleared his throat and spoke again, "So...chemistry's not your best subject, huh?"
You rolled your eyes, "Definitely not. I hate it...it's so hard. My favorite class is English."
"English? Hey, mine too. What's your favorite book?"
You pause, furrowing your brows again, "...don't laugh."
He throws his hands up in an "I'm innocent" movement, "Cross my heart."
You take a moment before you speak, "I like 'The Hobbit'. I've read it, like, a million times. I re-read it like, once a year-"
"'The Hobbit'? I like that one too!" Eddie smiled widely, "...do you listen to Led Zeppelin by any chance?"
You laugh, "Are you about to tell me that 'Ramble On' was inspired by 'The Hobbit?" You watch his eyes widen slightly.
"You know that already?"
You nod, "My dad loves them. Has all their records. He can't help but spit out random fun facts about that stuff. I like them, too," You find yourself in front of your chemistry class, "Well...this is me. Thanks for finding my book again, Eddie."
He leans his shoulder against the wall and smiles. You notice his eyes flicker quickly to your lips and back to your eyes again before he speaks, "No problem. Thanks for helping Wheeler. I'll...see you around, I guess?"
You nod, looking back at him while you head into class, "Definitely."
And that was the start of you and Eddie.
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Eddie didn't know what had come over him that day, helping you out at your locker. Wheeler had mentioned once that you seemed cool (Henderson enthusiastically agreed), and ever since then, he was convinced he had to thank you. Not just because you had helped his friend (which was cool), but also...had you always been that pretty?
Sure, you two didn't seem to have anything in common - you were known for being one of the smartest kids in school, with like 1,000 extracurriculars, bound for some Ivy League on the East Coast, and Eddie was...well, Eddie. Now in his third try at being a senior, school wasn't necessarily his strongest subject. But, you hadn't ever played in him being a freak, and always seemed kind so...he figured it would be safe to thank you for being so nice to his friend.
Because that's all he wanted to do...was thank you. That was all. Definitely not flirt with you or anything.
After that moment at your locker, Eddie seemed to run into you everywhere - lunch period, the hallway, even the mall that one time he actually went because he needed to pick up some D&D books from the bookstore. And slowly but surely, "running into each other" turned into:
"What do you mean she's just watching?" Dustin asked one day, setting up the drama room for Hellfire Club, "You never let people just watch. They always have to play. Is she going to play?"
"No, Dustin, for the hundredth time explaining, she is not playing. She is watching. Do you have a problem with her? Mortal enemies or something?"
Dustin eyed Eddie and shrugged, eventually going back to setting the table up, "No I just...you never let people watch..." He starts to grumble, "I guess in order to watch you need to have boobs, or something..."
That night at the game, Eddie wasn't his best DM self. He was distracted - probably had to do with the hours of homework he "needed to do", and definitely wasn't because you were there, sitting next to him, intently watching the game and reacting. It definitely didn't have anything to do with your cute gasps, or little squeals, or laughter whenever something happened.
Definitely not, at all.
At one point in the game, you tapped him on the shoulder. He leaned into you, not taking his eyes off of the rest of Hellfire Club, who were currently engrossed in trying to figure out their next strategy.
"Yes, m'lady?" Eddie asks in a British accent.
"Wouldn't Henderson's character be able to go through that door? Like...isn't he really charismatic? So like...can't he convince the guard to let them pass? I know he's not like, the main dude in the game or whatever but..." Your voice trails off as you realize that maybe you were too off base. You didn't really know the game at all, but that seemed right...right?
Eddie nodded slowly and his eyes darted over to you quickly...you were right. Holy shit...you were right, and Eddie totally didn't see this lapse in judgement. He smiled at you and took note of how his heart seemed to flip into his stomach, sending a quick shiver down his spine.
Shit. He was in trouble.
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"Eddie, can you turn it down a little bit? I'm trying to concentrate." You groaned slightly, shifting your head in your hand as your eyes scan the textbook in front of you. Not that it's really doing anything since you can't seem to retain any information at the moment.
Eddie, who was currently practicing his air guitar solo to Metallica's "Ride the Lightning", gave three quick headbangs before turning down the music, but immediately went back to air guitar.
"Aren't I supposed to be helping you with your science homework?" You asked, a little annoyance rising, "If you're gonna be distracted, I'm gonna go home. I have like, a million college brochures to go through and-"
"No! No!" He immediately stops and stands at attention like a soldier, salute and everything, "Okay. I'll stop." He jumps on the bed next to you, sending a pencil fly in the air. He caught it and stuck it behind his ear, "Okay. Science!" He clapped his hand and rubs them together like a mad scientist.
You chuckle and roll your eyes playfully, gently shoving his shoulder beside you. "Okay, so, when dealing with organism structure, you have to remember that everything is made up of cells, right? So when thinking of specialized parts of the body-" You look up to see him staring at you, definitely not paying attention to what you're saying. "Eddie..."
He snaps to attention and smiles bashfully, "Sorry. I'm...distracted?" His eyes dart to your lips again and your heart does that annoying "pounding in your chest" thing it does basically every time Eddie looks at you.
"Do you want to be a senior for a fourth time?"
He playfully shakes his head, "Nope. Definitely not."
"What's got you so distracted, anyway? Thinking about your date with Mindi tomorrow?" You probed him a bit, trying to get more information out of him. When you had become friends with Eddie, he definitely had his fair share of..."girlfriends". Which at first, you didn't mind.
Not that you minded now, but...five months after initially becoming friends with him, you would just prefer if you were his girlfriend.
Eddie's face flushed and he looked away, throwing the pencil behind his ear on to his dresser across the room, "Oh, Mindi? No, I...cancelled that. Like, a week ago." He suddenly got off of the bed and started to pace around his bedroom a little. I watched him for a moment before speaking.
"Why? Weren't you like, so excited to take her to the movies? You said she was soooOoo hot and blah blah blah-"
"I'm just not interested in her anymore." He interrupted you, stopping his pacing. He turned to face you and didn't break eye contact, his eyes seemingly staring into your brain.
Did he know? Did he know how you had fallen for him?
It started slowly, in a way you didn't even recognize - he made you laugh more than other people, you wanted to spend as much time with him as possible, and he was so kind...not only to you, but to his friends, and even your parents when he'd come to pick you up on a Friday night with the group. He'd always come to the door, always make small talk with your mom. Not only that, but he was a gentleman, which surprised you - opened doors, pulling out your chair...
Not to mention, when it was late at night and you couldn't sleep, you couldn't help your thoughts turn to his hands in your hair, his dick inside of you, whispering your name over and over again.
The sudden realization that you were falling in love with him slapped you hard in the face - one day after school, you two were walking to his van for a ride home and someone's car blew past you in the parking lot, seemingly out of nowhere. You were about to step out but Eddie pulled you back, your body immediately pressing against his, your face mere inches from each other.
The air was electric, and you couldn't look away from his eyes. Finally, he spoke, "...you okay?" His voice was husky, low. It sent goosebumps down your arms, which were currently being held by Eddie's. You could only nod, words escaping you. Finally, Eddie broke the spell by screaming at the car, "JESUS CHRIST YOU PIECE OF SHIT WATCH WHAT YOU'RE DOING BEFORE YOU FUCKING KILL SOMEONE!"
Back in his room, you eyed him. "Why aren't you interested in her anymore?" You asked quietly, sensing the air shift. It felt more tense, more heavy.
What the fuck was going on?
Eddie, seemed to zone out for a second, taking a piece of his hair and chewing on it lightly. His eyes were focused on the floor, "Maybe...I think because...I'm interested in someone else?" It came out as a question, not a statement.
You swallowed hard. He was acting strange. Your heart started to beat strong enough that you heard it in your head. "...who are you interested in, then?" You asked. You took the textbook you were reading and closed it, putting it on his bedside table. Was he saying what you thought he was saying? Please be me, please be me, please be me! Your brain was shouting so loud you were surprised he couldn't hear it.
Eddie looked up at you quickly and then back down again, his face unreadable. Which was concerning, because Eddie's face was always an animated as a Muppet.
Was it hot in here?
Taking a step forward, he was standing at the foot of the bed now. It seemed like he was thinking...hard. "I..."
Before he could even start, he finished. The single word hung in the air, causing your heart to race even faster and your head to swim. You WHAT, Eddie? You felt like you were about to lose your mind. Was he going to say it or not? Were you going to find out, or not?
"I'MINLOVEWITHYOU." You said loudly, the words spilling out of your mouth before you could even stop them. You gasped and clapped your hand over your mouth, hoping that somehow that action would suck the words back in, as if it never happened. Eddie's head snapped up and he stared at you. The air had been sucked out of the room in one fell swoop, and you could feel embarrassed tears prickle at your eyes. "Oh, god, Eddie...I-I-"
Oh no...what had you done? You had just ruined something between you and one of your closest friends. No more movie nights, no more homework sessions, no more late night phone conversations-
In a single motion, Eddie was on top of you, his lips crashing into yours. You didn't have time to even think, but your hands immediately found their way into his hair, cradling his scalp as he pressed his body into yours. You gasped at his initial contact but quickly found yourself melting into the kiss. Eddie moaned into your mouth, his tongue gently asking permission to open. Once granted, he hungrily kissed you, pressing your back into the bed.
"Eddie..." You breathed as you pulled back a bit, looking at him. He smirked and started to pepper your chin with gentle kisses, a far cry from the kiss that had started the whole thing.
"Mmmmyes?" His eyes were twinkling as he looked at you. Suddenly he pulled back, his mouth agape, "Do you want me to stop?"
"No! No-" You almost shouted, "No, I-"
"I love you too." He said quickly, a flush coming to his face, "I...love you too. I have. For a while."
You smile, heart feeling like it's about to explode. You pulled him back into a kiss, using your tongue to explore his immediately. He moaned, pressing his groin into yours. You felt an instant rush of wetness to your panties as your hands found their way to the nape of his neck. Eddie pulled away from the kiss, his hand gently finding it's way to the top of your pants. He looked at you and you nodded, and he quickly undid the button, pulling them down, exposing your pink cotton underwear, which you felt was already starting to soak through.
Eddie hissed as he slid down your body, pressing his mouth to the wet spot on your underwear. You gasped lightly, watching him. He was quite beautiful - his hair starting to dampen with sweat at the hairline, his eyes shimmery, hungry for you. He pressed his tongue down flat on your wet spot once - teasingly - and leaned up again, removing his shirt.
Your head was still swimming as he fully pulled your pants off at your ankles, gently spreading your legs, and pushing your underwear aside. He laid on his stomach, getting comfortable, and wrapped your legs on his shoulders. He quickly glanced up at you, his eyes dark.
"Your pussy is so fucking beautiful." He said, his voice a low growl. His voice caused you to whimper slightly, and before you could even think, his tongue was moving in action, teasing your clit in small, wet motions.
"Oh, fuck, Eddie-" You couldn't think as the pleasure started to rise.
"You're already so wet for me, princess," He said, going back to your clit again. He paused to pull your underwear off but was quickly back in your pussy, moaning as if he was eating a delectable meal. He switched between quick, teasing moments, and flattening his tongue against the entirety of your pussy. You weren't sure if it was because he was just that good, or if it was because you had quite literally been dreaming of this moment for a while, but after a few minutes, you felt the coil in your lower belly start to tighten.
"Fuck Eddie...you feel so fucking good. I-I-I'm close, I think-"
"Come for me." He spoke into your pussy, suddenly slipping a finger in. Slowly at first, he started to finger you, curving his finger in an upwards motion while inside. You shrieked, immediately grabbing his hair with both hands. He responded by growling into your mound, concentrated on sending you over the edge.
Suddenly, the coil snapped and you moaned his name, no longer in control of what came out of your mouth. Your head was swimming with hot pleasure, beads of sweat gathering on your temple as your hips bucked into his mouth. Eddie slipped his finger out and gave your clit a final, gentle kiss before he slid out from under your legs and sat on his knees. He stared at you and started to shake his head, smiling.
"So fucking sexy..." He murmured, unbuckling his pants. Quickly, you reached up to help him and he looked at you.
"Just trying to get your pants off faster," You said, a blush rising to you.
"And why's that?"
"I need you. To fuck me. Right now." You said, dragging his pants down. He chuckled and stood up, shaking his pants down to his ankles. The length of his cock sprung up in his boxers, creating a tent that your eyes immediately fell on. He paused a moment and took his boxers off, his cock already glistening with precum. He slowly made his way back to you, laying on top of you. His cock laid in between the lips of your pussy, causing you to moan slightly. He sucked on your neck, a hand finding it's way to your hair and tugging slightly.
"You're awfully greedy." He purred into your ear teasingly. You heard him open his bedside table drawer, grabbing a condom and snapping the draw shut. Kneeling up again while discarding the condom wrapper, he rolled the condom on his dick achingly slow, never taking his eyes off of you. You felt a new rush of wetness slide through your pussy, and you opened your legs up more.
Eddie stroked his cock a few times before lining himself up with your entrance, which was already aching with pleasure. He leaned forward, his forehead touching yours. Your breath hitched in your stomach as he looked into your eyes and you nodded, giving him the go ahead. His dick slid in without resistance, causing you to moan loudly and his eyes to roll back.
"Shit, baby, you're so fucking wet," He hissed, starting to thrust slowly into you, "So fucking tight. Fuck s'good."
Eddie's cock filled you, every thrust sending a new wave of pleasure through you. You couldn't help your moaning - thank god Eddie's uncle wasn't home - and you felt like you were almost having an out of body experience. As Eddie started to speed his thrusts up, your hands find their way to the back of his hips, and your nails started to dig in deeper and deeper.
"Yes. Right there. Right there, Eddie. Fuck, you fuck me so good!" You stammered as he hit your walls. He grunted, panting, his hair tickling your face.
"Right there, baby? You like it right there?" He spoke, his voice a guttural growl, "You gonna come for me again, sweetheart? Be a good girl for me and show me."
His words shot through your pussy in combination with his thrusts, the sound of his dick slipping in and out of your wet pussy driving you over the edge. Sloppy kisses were exchanged as one of Eddie's hand found it's way underneath your shirt and bra, fingering a nipple.
"Fuck...I should've taken this shit off before we started." Eddie mumbled, still thrusting. You replied by whipping the shirt above your head, unhooking your bra and throwing it to the ground. Eddie's eyebrows raised and he smirked, leaning down to immediately take your nipple in his mouth. Your back arched and you gasped, one hand pushing Eddie's head down on your tits, and the other pushing his ass down to fuck you harder.
"Harder and you're gonna make me come again." You whimpered. Eddie responded by taking your nipple in his teeth, sucking harder and harder.
You started to see stars. You had never felt this type of pleasure before, and you never wanted it to stop. The combination of Eddie's cock, his mouth, and his words were about to send you careening over the edge.
"Oh, god-"
"Oh fuck, baby. I'm gonna come." Eddie said, his face finding your neck again. The hand on his head found its way to his chin, cradling it. His hair swung back and forth, and his eyelids were half shut, a deep crimson rising in his face.
"Come for me. Come with me-" Was all you were able to get out before one final thrust from Eddie sent you over the edge, causing you to scream his name, your hands finding his sheets and gripping for dear life. Hearing your screams caused Eddie to moan loudly, his whole body tensing as he spilled into the condom. He said your name, not quite as loud as your screams, but with matching intensity.
The only noises that could be heard were panting from the both of you. After a moment, Eddie slid out from inside of you, falling to the side of you and immediately taking you into his arms, kissing the top of your shoulder.
"So..." He finally said, a small chuckle playing on his words. You giggled and turned to face him, looking into his eyes.
"So."
"Now that we've established we're absolutely head over heels for each other", Eddie started, placing a kiss on your forehead, "And we're both incredibly sexually compatible..." Another kiss, "Is it like, totally corny to ask you to be my girlfriend or...no?"
You giggled again, running a hand through his hair, "I don't think so. I'd say yes, i think."
"You think?!"
"I'm kidding!" You laughed, sitting up on your elbow. You started to trace circles on his chest, the air falling back into place again. "So what now?"
"What now?!" Eddie asked. Boasting his best DM voice, he sat up and waved his arms in the air, "There's a whole big beautiful world we get to discover now together!"
You smirked, running a hand down his bare thigh, "But what if...I just want to stay in bed?"
A blush rose on Eddie's face and he smiled, looking at your lips, "Oh, well in that case, there's a lot to discover in here, too."
He reached over to his bedside table and opened the drawer again.
------
Whew, a doozy! What did you guys think?! My first time writing smut but it was just a little idea I had on my mind for a bit so I had to get it out. I love me some cute Eddie ideas.
REMINDER: My inbox is open so please request some stuff because I'm dying to write!
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teaboot · 1 year
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While I'm happy that the word "gaslighting" is more known than it used to be, and that people at large are learning to recognize what it looks like, I feel like we need to be careful not to turn it into something soft and casual we throw around off the cuff without meaning.
Being gaslit is psychological abuse that fucks you up very badly, very slowly, at such a gradual pace that you don't usually know it's happening until it's already re-wired your brain.
If you're unfamiliar with the term, "to gaslight" is to intentionally persuade someone that they cannot trust their own perceptions of reality. It's a destabilizing form of manipulation that leaves you constantly anxious, off-balanced, confused, and dependant on others.
This is done by lying about events that have happened or about things that are happening, invalidating feelings and observations, and either denying, refusing to acknowledge, or deflecting away from hard facts.
As someone who has experienced gaslighting as a form of abuse, this is what I remember from when I didn't know anything was off:
"Oh, I must have forgotten what really happened."
"I'm just not seeing it from their point of view."
"Everyone has their ups and downs. This is normal."
"I guess I wasn't thinking about what I was doing."
"I must have been wrong."
This is what I remember from when I first started realizing something was weird:
"How come every time I'm convinced they did something wrong, they just talk to me a few minutes, and I end up asking for their forgiveness? What has me so convinced I was right in the first moment?"
"I should start writing things down when they happen, so I can go back and check later when I'm confused."
"If every relationship like ours (familial, romantic, platonic) works this way, how come I never hear about it, or read about it, or see it anywhere else?"
Getting out and adjusting to the real world is hard, too, and comes with rapid swings of unfounded guilt, shame, fear, anxiety, and self-deprication that are completely unfounded in reality.
You've been conditioned to believe that you are entirely helpless and unable to think for yourself, possibly "crazy" or otherwise fundamentally impaired, and that there is a singular source of guidance that knows exactly what is right, and all of a sudden that pillar of support has vanished.
The immediate "after" that I recall looks like:
Constant uncertainty. Because nobody is there to tell you what's real and what isn't, you approach every situation thinking at it from all angles. Every question has fifty possible answers and most of them are wrong and you don't know which. If you choose wrong, the world will end.
A sense of helplessness. You feel that nothing you do is correct, and it's easier to make no choices at all- or you make wild, reckless, impulsive choices, because you feel you have nothing to lose.
Memory loss. I don't understand this one, but it's not like memoriescare being erased, but more like... you're so used to treating your memories as dreams or imaginations that you reflexively dismiss anything you recall as fake, and you can't believe anything you recall because you don't think it was real. Your abusers voice is in your head, wiping things away and telling you that you did the wrong thing. And you believe them, because they're the only constant you can rely on.
Missing the abuser, or the abusive dynamic. Because you know now that it wasn't healthy, but at least you knew where you stood. As long as you said the right things and acted the right way, agreed and obeyed and did as they expected, you felt like thevworld made sense. Now you have to figure out which parts of you really are broken, and which parts are working fine in a really weird way, and it's like tuning a piano when you've never played one before.
The long term "after"- for which I can only speak for myself- looks like:
Having to double-check, triple-check, and continue checking hard evidence of an event before responding in an active way.
Consulting with trusted friends to verify that your observations are legitimate and that your perceptions are valid. Following up with them to see if someone is really angry at you, or if you're just projecting anger onto them because it's what makes sense to your old pattern.
Obsessive collection of "evidence"- saving pictures, writing detailed journals, making recordings and video, never deleting emails or old texts, because you still don't quite trust yourself all the way and you're afraid that someone will cause you to doubt yourself again.
Continued self-doubt and being "gullible": I have straight up seen people flip me off to my face in front of witnesses and then immediately tell me, "No, I was just waving", and my first instinct is to believe them. For a few seconds, I *really do* believe them. Your brain is so trained to latch onto what people tell you to believe that its really, really hard to hold onto information that you already have.
Learning to take ownership over your own actions. (I didn't mess up because I'm "crazy", I messed up because I'm a person and people do that.)
Instinctively seeking approval. (Takes a lot of work to remind myself that I don't exit to make people happy, and that some people suck ass, and I can tell them to piss off.)
I don't intend to invalidate anyone currently struggling with this- if you feel that something is wrong, it probably is. That's the thought that got me out. Trust that feeling that something isn't right.
I just want people who don't know what to look for to know what gaslighting *actually* looks and feels like, so they don't just roll their eyes and think, "Oh, that word doesnt apply to me- I'm not some snowflake".
('Cause we all saw what happened with "triggered", right?)
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luvyeni · 5 months
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❛BIRTHDAY BOY!❜ ( p. sunghoon )
💬nias note: for the birthday boy , i was gonna post it yesterday but i forgot.
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p. park sunghoon x exoticdancer!reader w. 1.6k+
— 𖦹 warnings. unprotected sex, oral ( m. receiving ), dirty talk, nothing special
— 𖦹 ( giving the birthday boy a few birthday wishes ) !
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“Trust Me"
Those two words coming from jakes mouth never sat right with him — especially when it had something to so with him personally. “I’ll handle your birthday, just get ready to have fun.”
He should’ve known what his friend was planning — knowing the boy for years, he should’ve known he was gonna pick the strip club. “Ta-da!” Jake stood outside the doors to the club. “A strip club?” Sunghoon said displeased. “Don’t say it like that, how many strip clubs do you go to.”
It wasn’t that he didn’t like strip clubs, he just never thought about going as often as his friends do. “Sunghoon just give it a try.” Heeseung said, patting his shoulder. “please, jake looked like he worked hard.”
Sunghoon gave in, the stood in the vip line — finally being let into their section, ordering a few bottles of his favorite alcohol. “Have fun , and let loose.” Jake said. “don’t be so uptight.”
Sunghoon decided to take their advice — it was his birthday he should have fun. He slowly started to let loose, refilling his cup multiple times as different girls came around, all different sizes, draped in beautiful lingerie’s. His friends had long gone forgotten they were celebrating them, entertaining multiple girls in the section.
“Are you not having fun?” A voice tore him from his thoughts. He turned ready  to turn down whoever it was when his voice was caught in his throat. “Most people come here to have fun.”
You were perfection, literally his dream girl. your soft voice and cute almost innocent smile — and your body, adorned in a baby sheer pink babydoll lingerie set, the boob cups covered in fluff. “Oh no I am.” He said taking a sip of his drink. “are you really?”
“Oh yn.” Jake words slurred as he held the waist of a girl who was sitting in his lap. “Hi jake.” You waved, jake was a regular. “Minhee isn’t here today, so no private dance for you.” You said. “That’s fine, today isn’t about me today anyway.” He pointed to the raven haired boy in front of you. “my  boy sunghoon, it’s his birthday today.”
Your eyes shifted back to the boy in front of you. “Is it?” He nodded. “Well happy birthday sunghoon.” You said gently touching his shoulder. “Thank you.” Jake sat his drink down, a mischievous smile on his lips. “Hey yn, why don’t you give the boy a private birthday show?” He dipped into his pocket pulling out his card. “Here, my treat.”
Sunghoon turned to his friend, ready to decline — but you already took his card. “Okay, im gonna go set up.” You walked away, his card in his hand. “Jake im gonna kill you.”
“Bro it’s a dance, and from yn of all people, you’re lucky as hell right now.” He said, he didn’t even have time to ask him before he was already explaining what he meant. “yn is famous around here, she doesn’t just do private shows for random people, she approaches you, not the other way around.”  He said. “She approached me my first time here, and I declined and they called me stupid every time I came back for the next 3 months.”
“That’s why you’re stuck with Minhee.” You made your return, handing jake his card back. “And I get your cuter friend.” You turned to sunghoon, sticking your hand out. “come.” You said with a sweet smile. “Go sunghoon, go have fun it’s your birthday.” Heeseung encouraged. “I don’t bite.” You said, he stood up taking your hand. “Unless you want me to.”
You guided him through the club, your hands stayed interlocked, his eyes were glued to your backside, the dress barely did anything to hide your pink thong. “I can feel you staring.” You walked down the hallway of the different private rooms. “Am I not allowed?”
“You are.” You said, squeezing his hand. “I hear you’re pretty famous around here.” He said. “I guess you could say that.” You responded with quickness. “Why is that?” You opened the door, he followed you inside. “I don’t know, maybe because im cute.” You titled your head smiling. “really? That’s it?”
“You don’t think so?” He nodded his head. “No I think you’re the cutest thing in this place.” He said. “Yeah?” You wrapped your arms around his neck. “Yup.” He said, placing his hands on your waist, the music was already playing, multi colored lights flashing.
You pushed him down on the couch, climbing into his lap. “Relax.” You said holding his shoulders. “It’s your birthday, let me take care of you.” You said, voice was so innocent — in contrast to the fact that you were basically grinding against him.
You swayed your hips to the music , normally you’d utilize the pole more — but he was different so you stayed close to him and sunghoon wasn’t complaining, in fact he was starting to see why you were pretty famous around here, you basically had two, personalities, that cute innocent act you put on was a fake — you were a tease.
You’d touch him just enough to make him want more, before you’d pull away leaving him to bite his lip, running his hand through his hair in frustration. “Fuck.” He sighed as you ran your hands down his stomach, stopping at his v-line, teasingly lifting his shirt. “oh fuck you’re killing me cutie.”
You smile, running your freshly manicured nails down his thighs. “what’s your birthday wish?” You said, climbing back into his lap. “What’s something you really want?” You pulled at his chain. “If I tell you, I’ll get thrown out of here princess.” You smirked, you had him right where you wanted him. “You don’t see any bouncers in here do you?”
“Tell me birthday boy.” You whispered in his ear, he hissed when you nipped at his lobe. “Fuck, right now my biggest wish is for you to get on your knees and put my cock in your pretty mouth.” He said, his voice deep, dripped in lust. “Yeah.” You stood up, slowly sinking to your knees , his eyes followed you. “Like this?” You looked up at him through your lashes. “Yeah.” He sighed.
You reached for his jeans, undoing the button — unzipping the jeans, he lifted his hips up, and you slowly pulled them down to his ankles. He was already hard, his bulge pressing against his underwear. “You’re so hard already.” You kissed his clothed cock. “Fuck princess, that’s because you’ve ben teasing me for 20 minutes.”
You took that as a hurry up, you freed his cock, grabbing the base of his cock stroking it. “Fu-fuck.” He cursed. “You’re little hands can barely fit around my fat cock baby.” He groaned— you kissed his tip, giving you a few kitty licks. “Fuck put it in your mouth now.” You listened, opening your mouth taking him in. “Shiiiit, that’s it.” He groaned. “take more of my cock."
You relaxed your throat, fully taking him in. “Oh shit.” He moaned as you bobbed your head up and down, gagging around his length. “To-took me down that pretty little throat so easily.” He grabbed your hair that was gathered in a ponytail, guiding your head on his cock. “Fuck im gonna cum.” He hissed, a minute later you felt his cum fill your mouth.
He pulled you of his cock, cum leaking from your mouth, he brought his thumb to your lips, pushing the cum back into your mouth. “good girl, swallow for me.” You swallowed  , sticking out your tongue.
“Do you have another wish?” He smirked. “oh you’re feeling generous tonight? You always this generous baby?” You shook your head no. “You’re the birthday boy.” He chuckled darkly. “Okay then get up.” He grabbed your forearm, standing you up, following behind you.
“Turn around.” He manhandled your body, pushing you down on the couch. “Fuck look at that ass.” You felt a sharp slap against your backside, squeezing your cheeks. “Sunghoon.” You moaned, holding the back of the couch as he pulled your thong to the side, pressing his cock against your ass. “Gonna fuck you.”
He grabbed the base of his cock, his tip kissed your cunt. “gonna split you open.” He pushed his cock fully in, moaning out. “Oh fuck you’re tight as hell.” He fully bottom out, pulling out, slamming back into you. “Oh fuck!” you screamed as he plowed into your sopping heat. “Fu-fuck you’re so big.”
“yeah.” He grunted, slapping your ass again. “you’re taking me like a champ baby -fuck- best fucking birthday gift.” He grunted , fucking into you harder, the walls were soundproof and you were glad cause you could definitely get in trouble, even though at the moment, you really didn’t care — more focused on your orgasm that was approaching fast. “Fuck sunghoon im gonna cum!”
He watched your ass bounce back against his pelvis, slapping it a few times. “Shit im cumming!” You screamed, your juices coating his cock. He kept thrusting — once; twice, before he pulled out jerking his cock off cumming on your ass. “Shit.”
“Did I make birthday better?” You asked. “Much better.” He asked. “Good, I don’t do this to everyone.” You said, wiping your lipstick off his neck. “You’re cute so you’re special enough.” He grabbed you by your waist pulling you close. “Special enough to let me take you out on a date?”
“You want to go on a date?” You said, you got asked on date daily, but normally by old men so you never accepted. “Yeah, it can be my last birthday wish.” He smiled cheekily, you smiled.
“okay birthday boy i'll go on a date with you.”
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©️LUVYENI
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lovers-rck · 3 months
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modern au where you accidentally send ellie, your bestfriend, a nude PT3
pt1 here , pt2 here pt4 here
n/a finally.
ellie was lying on her bed. her eyes were closed, her mouth was mumbling the words of the song softly, not wanting to take the spotlight away from the voice that sounded through the record player.
outside, the sun was shining at its brightest, burning the people who dared to walk under its reign.
"uhg i love that song" ellie murmurs as the song ends.
"it's good" you agree. a bead of perspiration ran down the valley of your breasts "it's too hot in here. can you open the window?"
ellie nods and once it's done she throws herself back on the bed hard, bouncing you up and down. she giggles dumbly.
"you can put on your bikini if you want, you left it here the last time we went swimming"
"so that's why i couldn't find it" you can see how ellie smiles slightly "where is it?"
"second drawer on the right"
"got it."
you find your bikini folded neatly in the drawer next to her t-shirts. the bathroom feels a thousand times hotter than the whole house, so you hurry to put on your bikini top and go back out to ellie's room. she's still in the same position, singing songs from an album you don't know.
"we should go swimming again" you say as you walk in, your bare feet against the floor "it was fun"
ellie partially stands up with the help of her arms and watches you, walking around her room in your bikini top and shorts. the photo incident had already been forgotten in your mind, but ellie was still thinking about that moment.
even though she assured you that she had deleted the photo, the truth was that she still had it in her gallery, feeling guilty every time she looked at it.
"sure" ellie said, abandoning her gaze on your body "if you want to drown yourself again"
"i didn't drown" you protested "that wave came in unexpectedly"
you lie down next to her, staring at the ceiling just as she does, separated by inches. ellie's almost-kiss comes to mind, but you dismiss that memory as quickly as you can, trying not to fantasize about something that isn't going to happen.
she's your best friend. just that.
it isn't long before the album comes to an end, burying the room in a deep silence. The air is uncomfortable for ellie, who feels the need to speak up and confess her sin.
"i didn't delete the picture" she says after a few minutes.
you furrow your eyebrows and look at her "what? which picture?"
ellie abandons her gaze to the ceiling and looks at your breasts, and then at you "you know..."
the answer hits you "oh"
"i'm sorry" ellie says "i had to tell you, it doesn't feel right"
you look up at the ceiling again "why didn't you delete it?"
you hear ellie laugh lightly "isn't it obvious?"
you feel your heart in your throat, ready to come out the moment you utter a word.
"it's not obvious to me"
an immense heat takes hold of ellie's body, a heat that is not due to the temperature outside. she feels her cheeks redden and her lips feel extremely dry and suddenly the ceiling looks so interesting that she want to watch it forever.
"well..." in your eyes, ellie doesn't look as confident as usual, more vulnerable "i think i like you."
"you think?"
"okay, okay" ellie snorts "i like you"
"it's just weird" she continues "i mean, it feels weird that you like your best friend, you know? i don't know, i haven't stopped thinking about it since you sent me that picture"
you don't say anything, and ellie takes that as a bad sign.
"i'm sorry" she mumbles, looking at the ceiling and wanting to hit her head "i shouldn't have said that. i would leave if i could but it's my home so...."
"can you kiss me?" you speak and ellie looks at you
"what?"
ellie analyzes your gestures, looking for some indication that what you are telling her is a vile joke that you can both laugh at later, or pretend to laugh at.
"a real kiss this time" you say and ellie smile embarrassed as she remembers "kisses on the corner don't count"
"shut up. I didn't know how you were going to react."
"you didn't even see my reaction! you ran into the living room!"
they both laugh uproariously, although ellie laughs mostly out of embarrassment.
a few seconds pass. fifteen seconds if you ask ellie.
"well, are you going to do it?" you mutter.
ellie stands up and moves closer to you, leaning on one arm to support her weight so she doesn't fall on you. you can feel her confidence return as she provokes your lips by gently brushing hers across them but not making full contact.
"ellie" your voice comes out as a strangled moan.
and she finally kisses you.
the warmth of her lips impacting against yours and sending you into a dreamy spiral. her hands hold you as if you are going to disappear, encircling and touching your skin.
everything about her touch counterbalances her personality. her touch is kind, gentle, soft, and it's ellie's
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fauustic · 11 months
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late night bubble bath
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((oh yeah the brainrot has hit HARD!!! IM IN LOVE!!! please send me asks / requests about miguel o’hara i might just melt ...))
gender-nonconforming reader x miguel “spider-man 2099″ o’hara
comfort, fluff. a needy miguel who is just a big kitty.
warnings: mention of wounds, very little blood. taking care of him after a night of insomnia. use of spanish pet names, yet a translator helped me because my spanish isn’t the best. lmk if i missed anything!
word count: 3027
A sigh escapes your lips as you shakily grasp the cup of water along your bedside table. You weren't one to have intense insomnia, yet the anxiety bubbling within your gut served as a painful reminder that you haven't been blessed with a moment of shuteye.
Was it something you had forgotten? You ran through a mental checklist that consisted of taking after Miguel's late nights, and not a single chore was unfinished.
Leftovers for dinner could be found neatly packed away in the place he always checks in the fridge, so there was no need for your love returning from work hungry and tired. Today's laundry was already fluffed and ironed, which will make it easier to begin the upcoming morning. Miguel mentioned off-handedly to you how an important board meeting at his lab had been stressing him out, so you couldn't help but surprise him when he got back home even if it was just prepared outfits.
You leaned back against your pillow before rolling towards Miguel's side of your queen sized bed. You felt so jumpy, your hands itching to do anything. Nights like these you craved Miguel's presence tenfold, as he would be snuggled right in your arms, smoothing the stress out from the tips of your fingers through a careful massage. You could remember the sleepy rambles he'd murmur into the air over the ambience of the television, "Pasar tiempo contigo, brillante. Encantador. Mi pequeño amor. Could bask in your presence always, mi conejito." Miguel would whisper into your ears with a cute sleepiness, peppering your jaw with his lips. It's almost as if he was right beside you, brushing his thumb against your skin as he held your hands.
Thinking so fondly of your boyfriend's habits soothed the anxiety of your insomnia as you tried to remind yourself that he always stays safe and remembers you love him. Once coming home for the first time from work, he can't help but smother you in kisses and silly pet names, showering you in soft reminders of how much love and affection he has for you. And then the second time of the night, he'd do the same thing under different circumstances. It had happened the night before, and it'll happen again. 
Miguel, soft groans escaping his bruised lips, would come through the balcony of your shared apartment that stored your little collection of flowers and greenery, slip through the door you always made sure to crack, and wake you up in the dead of the night to be bandaged and treated by your caring touch with hushed pleas. Whispering sweet things, neediness in every touch. "I missed you, cariño. Been waiting to see your pretty face all day, can I kiss you? P-please, let me kiss you." 
And so you did, resting your fingers on his shoulders and slowly trailing up until they cupped his bloodied face by the jaw. Then, you'd painstakingly kiss him until his blood would mix with spit, his fangs desperately wanting to sink into your tongue. 
Getting so caught up in your little dream, the blaring of a shrill beeping car down below your apartment startled you. Interrupting the glass upon your lips, it spilled onto your nightgown with a gasp.
"Fuck.." you mumbled to yourself, missing your boyfriend more than ever. Changing in a rush, you pulled over one of his flimsy lounge shirts over your head to bask in his smell as a reminder of his presence.
Nueva York was a city that didn't sleep, as the chatter of passersby rang through busy traffic. Bars down below thrived under the limelight, people not in their right mind hid in the shadows of skyscrapers. 
You wondered what Miguel could be doing right now. Scouting the vibrant lights as his claws dug into the beam of a building? Knocking someone senseless under the conditions of justice? Saving a civilian as they fall from great heights? 
Wondering made you sick, the anxiety bubbling in your stomach as if you were the one downing margaritas and cocktails in a scummy bar down below. You needed to distract yourself. So you did anything an adult on a late night would do.
So when you finally came to your senses, you slapped a flour dusted hand over your mouth and groaned.
Apron tied to your waist, hair in a loose bun– nothing too serious, in fact you appreciated how this style still kept your androgynous but still staying practical. Wisps of hair straying from the hold would cloud your vision every now and then, which you'd have to blow out of the way subconsciously while preparing the whipped frosting. The TV, distantly able to still be heard from the living room, echoed quietly through the apartment with an ambience that lulled you to a calm. It was the news, you couldn't help yourself due to late night paranoia, but your hands were busy and your attention was snatched away from your beloved creation.
You've truly outdone yourself this time, you decide as you watch the oven in front of you with an exhausted gaze and a yawn. The kitchen was messy with egg residue and splashes of water and vinegar oil, the clock on the microwave read "2:49" in the morning. It was a kind of chaos you normally wouldn't find yourself to, as Miguel loved a schedule, a routine. It wasn't as if he didn't want you to have your fun, far from that, he simply just loved doing whatever was eventful with you. And you couldn't help but find baking amusing as you observed the small cakes in the shaped pans inflate as time went on.
You found yourself in the middle of your small apartment kitchen floor, sleepily peering into the oven until that sleepiness shifted into fully dozing off. It couldn't be helped, crashing so hard after pulling off a mission to pump out more than a dozen cupcakes, half chocolate batter and the rest strawberry flavoring. Thankfully, you were able to stay awake long enough to take the cakes out to cool, but as soon as the oven made the beep to turn off– the couch was the closest thing to fall into a needed rest.
It's hard to know how long you had exactly fallen asleep for, yet the frantic arms encompassing your form must have been any kind of indicator. It was a startle to wake from, as your mouth couldn't keep quiet before your brain began working. 
"Eeugh! I- God Miguel, you scared me so badly–" You heaved into his shoulder as he practically slumped on top of you, whispering his usual panicky tangents he'd spew after returning from his late nights. 
"Lo siento, lo siento mucho." Miguel buried his face into your neck, nose pushing against your pulse. "Would never purposely scare you, mi lucero del alba. But not seeing you in bed, that made me feel… not like myself." Miguel confessed with a shaky breath and a pause, breathing in the floury smell and just you, swearing a purr erupted from his throat. "Would have fallen on the floor of our apartment if you weren't here, in my arms.  "Te necesito más que al propio aire, baby."
A subtle smile peeked through his tone despite the desperation, the longing in his touch. His forearms pushed against your back ever so slightly, reminding himself that you're here. That you're safe. His hands met your sides, thumbs circling in a soothing motion. You knew it calmed him down to trace shapes within your skin, but you wouldn't be lying if you said you loved the burn of his touch when he isn't even truly doing anything on purpose. It was as if the warmth of his finger tips ignited into flames, searing his touch into you. You'll never be able to forget each circle, heart, or even a very rare star traced into your skin, accompanying every freckle or birthmark you have. Every part of you is adored, loved, cherished. 
"I'm going to be here, waiting for you. No matter where you are or where I have to be."
"I hope so." Miguel hummed, "If anything happens to you," His claws found themselves underneath his shirt that you wore to bed that night, trailing your sides like handing a delicate doll. "Tengo miedo de lo que pueda hacerles. For you I'd do anything." 
His body didn't feel suffocating to be lying beneath, as he cradled the both of you to be meeting halfway. It was heartwarming, being clung to like a teddy bear by a man who's trying to hold up an entire city with his own two hands.
You realized his suit was only partially off, head uncovered as well as part of his chest– the suit clung to his waist like a lifeline. Needing to see his soft little smile that he held so selfishly against your neck, you led his face to be held over yours. A soft whine escaped his lips, missing the warmth your neck provided, but a quick hush quieted himself easily.
"Don't act like a sad puppy, my love." You whispered into his lips, breath fanning an old cut just underneath. Inspecting the damage, Miguel's eyes fluttered shut as you smoothed over the stress lines between his eyebrows. Not too rough today, expect a few cuts and bruises. So in your terms and conditions, today may even be considered a great day. "Aww, look at you. You did so well today, didn't you?" Awarding him with a kiss, Miguel melted into you like a weighted blanket.
Both hands cupping his jaw, you held him there for a long while, relishing in the moments of peace and quiet with him. Peppering quick, feathery kisses over his lips and gliding over cheekbones and freckles upon the nose, kissing the stress line you smoothed out, before doing the routine all over again. You strayed, always did– couldn't resist his alluring features and soft pleas to continue kissing him. 
Miguel isn't always so docile. Some nights he'd storm into your bedroom in a trance of pent-up frustration and stress with bruising kisses and bites that took home amongst hidden skin. But most nights, he could be handled like putty. It was an adorable sight to see, as his fangs peeked through his plush lips from the tension going slack in his jaw.
Your lips finally met his for the first time that night, yet it wasn't heated or filled with ulterior motives. Miguel's mouth met yours, and he lazily tasted every inch of your mouth, grazing his fangs against your tongue by accident. He needed to know every inch of you, and remind himself a hundred times over.
"Miggy.." you mumbled between his kisses, and happiness dripped from your voice as he barely let out a "mm?" Separating for just a moment, he decided to simply nuzzle your hand as a substitute.
"Let me run you a bath."
This sparked his attention, a quirk of the eyebrow and a stare of disbelief. "Eh?" Miguel chuckled stiffly, his nuzzles coming to an abrupt end. "¿Qué piensas de mí, un niño pequeño? I'm no toddler." By his response, he hasn't heard such things in ages. But as you slipped away from underneath his grasp, you padded towards your shared bathroom without a word. He was the one to bicker, but once the plan was in motion Miguel couldn't help but abide with a light begrudge in his step.
"The little cakes can wait, honey. Don't try to use those as an argument to get out of this." Your words would come out as a scold to anyone else, but as you turned to start the water it was clear you simply just cared. Too much for your own good. "Let me just do this for you, I missed you today." You admitted. 
"It's too late for this still, cariño." He groaned with a tint of guilt as you started helping him undress. "I'll just shower, go on. Vete a dormir." Yet he did not swat away your advancements to prepare a towel, nor even the drop of bubble bath mix in the water. Miguel looked at you like a deer in headlights, mouth agape as you did so.
"I added the bubble bath formula only because you told me to sleep." You said deadpan, grabbing the suit that's fallen to the floor to hang it on the rack. Miguel's expressions contorted to annoyed, then shocked, to just downright amused of your antics that always had him guessing. He cackled as you kept yourself busy, until you finally signaled to get in.
It was as if you tried to get a cat in the water, as he stared at the mountain of bubbles that rivalled the skies. "I'm not getting in. I can't lose the rest of my dignity." This time, his tone was solid– nothing sounded as if it could get through to him. But you could read your boyfriend like a book, solve him like a puzzle in a matter of seconds. 
"Miggy, my love. My other half. My everything." You cooed, dropping to your knees to poke at the bubbles. "You don't get in this forsaken bathtub with just the right warmth and the bubbles I made with my own blood, sweat and tears, you will sleep on the couch until I give you explicit permission to lay with me." His scarlet eyes glowed with genuine fear in his eyes. "And then, you will just lie with me. You would not be able to hold my hands or waist or twirl your finger around my hair– you will be in timeout. No bed, no holding–"
A splash interrupted your words, wetting your legs as his size struggled to stay in the tub. His arm hung out of the side as his feet kicked up on the tile walls, and he looked as flustered as ever. "No me lo puedo creer." Miguel blew at the bubbles that settled on his face. "I'm no dog who needs a bath, cariño." 
Shaking your head at his rare childish antics, you leaned over the tub to kiss the bubbles upon his nose. It was a sweet, domestic little moment between the two of you.
Small little scars littered his form as you glided a soft wash cloth over the grime of the city that washed off onto him. When the fabric slid over a sensitive muscle or wound, he'd hiss a curse and a "be gentle with me, love." You only responded with a lick into his mouth, which earned you a bite to your lips. "I'm not trying to hurt you, just wanna take care of you, my angel." You whispered into the bubbles, shuffling your knees the closest you can to the tub without falling into it– and massaged the tension in his shoulders.
This elicited a groan to rip through the bathroom walls, a low rumble that he couldn't contain to himself following. Miguel was like a domesticated tiger, all bark and bite yet the rare moments of silly tenderness peeking through his rough exterior. "Ah, that feels–" Miguel hisses again in pleasure, his brain short circuiting under your graze. ".. increíble. Tú eres mi medicina." 
His forearm hanging off the side of the tub twisted to bring his grasp to your face, locking the both of you into a heated kiss, one that stored the unspoken words of lonely nights as Miguel's shifts grew longer and more tiresome. "Missed you, baby. I need you, need you always with me. Wouldn't know what to do without you, I'd go crazy." He rambled as one of your soap filled hands snaked into his hair, to lather his curls and simultaneously scratch where he loves. 
It was an endearing sight whenever Miguel openly expressed his adoration of you, both his thoughts and worries.
"I love you more, Miguel." You giggled as his nose scrunched together at the abrupt sensation of water cascading over his head, the bubbles falling from the softness of his hair and down the ridges of his jaw and nose.
Silence comfortably enveloped the two of you as you rinsed him off, scattering kisses on his skin whenever he mumbled declarations of affection.
As you wrapped his curls in a soft, small towel, his sleepy grumble of a question caught your attention. "What about your little sweets, mi amor? Do you need me to help you finish them?"
Laughing, you shook your head only to shush him softly. "No, no baby. Let's just do it together tomorrow once you get some rest." Leading him to stand, you began draining the tub. 
Miguel didn't argue with the idea of that, purring softly as he imagined the two of you frosting little delicacies– something incredibly cozy and lovely. He loved that about you, the way you reminded him about his own humanity, the little hanging reminder that he needs his own time to help to heal and thrive. 
"All done, baby." You slid your arms around his waist, resting your head against his chest with a sigh. The towel hung around his waist was as soft as the fleece of a sheep, lulling you into the serene sleepiness your body craved to have. "How was your bubble bath?" The words tumbled from your lips as Miguel led the both of you to your shared bed, tucking you into the bundle of blankets scattering about. 
Before long, he slid into the opposite side with his own sigh of relief. Your hands grabbed at his now clothed chest, peeking at his exhausted, but content expression staring right back at your own. "Perfect, mi conejito." Miguel whispered with honesty, bringing you closer than ever as his breath fanned the crook of your neck.
Sleep began to take you as the strong scent of bubblegum flooded your senses, the slightly damp curls of Miguel tickling your neck and cheek. He intertwined his soul with yours, purring with a calm he could only achieve with you.
"Cupcakes tomorrow?" You murmured into his shoulder, soft and sleepy.
"Cupcakes tomorrow, cariño." A kiss to your neck. "Dulces sueños, goodnight."
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teruthecreator · 2 years
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remember when my life was interesting and held any sort of greater meaning? yeah me neither 
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rodolfoparras · 5 months
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Thinking about John Price being a big name in the porn industry not just for his dashing looks but also for the amazing chemistry that he has with his coworkers.
Despite the varied types of content that he makes, Price is mostly known for his facials and even cream pies videos. Price is good at his job, knows how to make the viewer feel engaged in the scene and he knows how to pull a genuine reaction from his costars, unlike the majority of people in the industry.
But recently he’s noticed the declines in views, different types of comments complaining that he’s just making the same old type of videos and even a few news sources saying he’s been swapped out for someone much younger.
All it takes is one click on some run into the ground new source to find out who exactly has come to take his place, only to see that it’s you who’s much younger than him, said to have a much more varied content and with a good amount of views for someone who just started out in the industry.
The curiosity in him hadn’t found peace until he had found out what exactly made your content different from his. Porn is porn isn’t it?
However he’d quickly realized what made your content different when he’d watched a video, matter of fact, multiple videos showing men pinned under your weight as you bully your cock into their holes, men down on all four taking your cock down their throats or with your head buried between their thighs as they scream and sob from pleasure.
Price doesn’t know why but something in him made him contact his manager and request a collaboration with you.
It could be for his decline in views. It could be because he thought he needed something new, something he hadn’t shown his audience before or it could be for the way his cock twitched in attention when watching your videos.
He didn’t think he’d get a yes, pacing back and forth while nervously chewing on his bottom lip only to almost jump in happiness when he received the text saying you had agreed to collaborate with him.
However any trace of happiness disappeared when he’d received the script, because something Price hadn’t expected was to bottom in the scene, yet it said so in the script and for a second he hesitated. Price hasn’t ever bottomed before, neither on nor off camera. He should’ve realized this could happen, since you were the top in all of your videos. But he’d gotten ahead of himself, forgotten about the possibility that this could happen.
For whatever reason Price agrees to do the collab anyway, tells himself he can do it, at least to save his career.
The day of your shoot he’s nervous like he’s never been before, rereading the script over and over, constantly glancing at himself in the mirror, even going as far as praying in hopes that he won’t mess this up.
When he meets you he’s taken by surprise once again. You’re ever so charismatic, shaking his hand and giving him the very same dazzling smile you’d given the camera lens while cumming all over someone’s face.
Price thinks he can do it, takes a deep breath as he lays down onto the sheets, only to swallow hard while you crawl up to him.
He’s sure he almost faints when you grab his chin with your thumb and index “hey hey breathe” you say loud enough for him to hear but not enough for the camera to pick up on it.
There’s a flash of surprise on his face before he does as you say and slowly but surely a bit of that tension bleeds away.
“Good good” you say with a small smile on your face while leaning into his ear, gently nibbling on it before whispering “You tell me if you’re uncomfortable with anything and I’ll stop immediately alright?”
Price almost laughs. You’re the rookie here yet you’re making him seem like one but somehow he doesn’t mind it, feels butterflies in his stomach as he nods his head in response.
It all turns into a bit of a blur from there. He remembers you placing kisses all over his body, remembers his dick hard and weeping before you granted him a moment of relief, even how your velvety tongue felt buried between his legs. But what lays engraved in his mind is when he had straddled your lap, hands shaking as they adjusted their grip on your chest and thighs quaking as he lined your cockhead up with his entrance.
“Come on John, show me how well you can take my cock yeah?” You say voice breathy and strained, reading a direct line from the script while desperately trying not to buck up into him.
“Ah fuck!” He cries out, head lolling back and eyes squeeze shut as he feels your tip push past his puckered rim
“God just- just like that pretty” you manage to say through gritted teeth, thumb soothingly caressing his hip while eagerly drinking up ever small reaction he gives.
“Feels feels so- so full” he whines out as he continues to take inch by inch, completely forgetting about the cameras on him along with every line in the script.
When you finally bottom out, he’s got fat tears trickling down his cheek, bottom lip wobbling as whines and whimper escape his lips.
“There you are sweetheart” you say, going off script, as your hand cups his cheek, calloused thumb stroking his flushed skin.
In that very moment Price realizes why you’re as popular as you are. It’s not for the varied type of content that you make, it’s not for the men you got pinned under your weight but rather because of how considerate and caring you are towards your partners.
Slowly but surely he starts moving, hips setting a steady pace and with each thrust he feels jolts of pleasure coursing through his body
Fuck, why hasn’t he done this before?
It feels so fucking good, he thinks to himself but realizes he’d said out loud when you respond to him,
“Feels good yeah? Just like that pretty” you grunt out “make yourself cum on my cock”you say once again reading a line from the script and in that very moment Price remembers the two of you are actually doing a scene and not just fucking.
He’d allowed himself to get lost in pleasure but for whatever reason the director didn’t seem to mind it, if anything the director seemed to like it going by the big smile on his face as he watched Price practically bounce on your cock.
Price scours his brain for the lines he’s supposed to say, but all he can think about is how your cockhead is pressing onto the ball of nerves over and over again.
“Please please-“ he slurs out, eyes squeezing shut as blunt nails dig into your skin. Despite being lost in bliss he can’t help but notice how you’ve even got him begging, something he also hasn’t done before and if he wasn’t in the position that he was in, he’d actually laugh.
“Come on sweetheart, cum for me” you say, as if already knowing what he’s waiting for and before he knows of it, he’s tipping over the edge, buckets of sweat pouring down his spine, and ropes of cum spurting all over your abdomen.
As he slumps down next to you in the bed he can’t help but realize that you’d even made him cum without actually touching him.
Many firsts in one night, Price thinks to himself.
Needless to say there were many collabs after that and Price was more than happy to bottom in every single one.
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