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#make me feel worthless please please please make me feel like nothing at all make me disappear hurt me hurt me hurt me hurt me
misseviehyde · 3 days
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RUNT
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"Hey guys, please make some room," whined Tommy as he tried and failed to insert himself into the group of his friends bathing in front of the tiny magic mirror.
Waves of toxic feminine energy pulsed out of the glass, transforming reality and altering the three boys stood in front of it into hot bratty bitches... all except Tommy.
Giggles and soft moans emerged from pink pouting lips and there were cracks and pops as hips pushed out and bones shifted. The smell of tight wet pussy and female perfume filled the air, as the three former boys became hotter and hotter - enjoying their transformations into popular bitches.
Tommy, feeling increasingly desperate tried again, but the changing boys ignored him and actively blocked him, pushing him away and stopping him from getting into their tight knit pack.
"Fuck off you runt, mmmmmmh you're like such a loooooser."
Of all the boys, Tommy had needed this the most. He had always been smaller, weaker, the butt of the joke. He dreamed of being popular. As a tiny undersized boy he was nothing, but this mirror could make him into a sexy popular girl. Once he had long hair, a tight pussy, boobs and an ass for miles - no one would care that he was short. In fact as a girl it would just make him sexy.
"Pleeeeeease," he sobbed, but the three of them just laughed at him and did the L for loser sign on their foreheads with their fingers.
Tommy noticed that all three had cute manicured nails now. Rings and jewellery decorated their bodies... earrings and belly button rings were on show. His friend Brian even had a tongue piercing.
"Fuckkkk yeah... give it to me," he moaned sticking out his pierced tongue and giggling.
Tommy watched as Brian's boring male clothing shrunk and tightened. His underwear became bright pink and transformed into a bikini set. Soft skin tanned and smoothed and with a hot groan Brian stuck out his chest. Tommy watched in envy as two perfect round tits pushed out to fill the cups of the pink bikini. They looked so fucking good.
Long sexy hair tumbled down her slender back as Brianna was born and she left her boring life as a boy behind.
Next to her Tony shuddered in pleasure as he whipped back long blonde hair and stuck out his tongue like a little teasing whore. "Like I feel sooooo horny right now," gasped Tina as reality snapped around the brat and she became the little bitch she had always dreamed of being.
"Yeah I know what you mean babe," smiled Ashley - her identity as Ash forgotten as she bared her dazzling white teeth and ran a hand through her gorgeous brunette hair.
The three of them were now fully female and the mirrors magic spread out to change everyone's memories of them. Brianna, Tina and Ashley were now the three most popular girls at school. Spoiled rich brats who had boys blowing up their phones and everyone dancing to their tune.
Taking the mirror down from the wall, Brianna dropped it with an evil smile and it smashed into hundreds of pieces.
"Whoops."
"Hey, you like know that's bad luck right?" giggled Tina.
"Only for that little loser Tommy," purred Brianna. "What a fucking runt. He could never understand how good it feels to be this hot."
Laughing the three girls carefully walked around the broken glass and giving their former friend mean looks before exploding with laughter, they walked off to find something fun to do.
Sobbing, Tommy began gathering the shards of the mirror. Maybe he could fix it?
Somehow he doubted it. After all, he was just a worthless runt and he knew it...
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yelloworangesoda · 2 months
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gotta get off the internet and only interact irl with people who were 30 before they got their shit together i cant keep doing it like this
#like this being. feeling like i have no future and nobody likes me#‘youre only 19’ only goes so far when i dont know any other fail 19 year olds#im not gonna be a damn dentist for sure but like. and ive said this a thousand times. what am i gonna do. i cant live a worthless nothing#life where i work a shitty job i hate. i have to like something#i hate my art. i hate my lack of creativity. my art is so bland i just dont think its in me anymore#i finished. and i hate it#i have other hobbies. i like to cross stitch. i like to sew. i like to paint. i like to make dolls. do you see the common theme here#i have a few more than that i technically could do but i cant create anymore and it kills me. i want to. i constantly want to but i cant#it doesnt help that even if i havw ideas i dont even want to do them#i was gonna draw some characters from a game i played when i was little but i just#didnt want to. at no point did it not feel like a chore#ill try to go to new mediums! its fun to mess around and then itll feel boring again and going back doesnt feel any better#idk. googling it is useless. ive tried all the things. for years. ive been TRYING to draw consistently and like. doodles are fine theyre fu#but theyre not what i want to do i want to make something im proud of. i drew almost every single day for like 2 years#and its not burnout bc its been like. 2 more years! and ive barely wanted to at all!!!#i want to be creative and i also want people to recognize it. different complaint but it sucks so bad#i feel like nobody likes me. still. nobody cares about what i do. nobody would care if i stopped#like except me but i can only support myself so far!!!! im so tired of it!!!! someone PLEASE be here for me and just say ‘hey i love this#drawing :)’ like you have no idea what that would do for me#not always. but yknow especially if its been a while. if you like it. if you dont like it :( idk. you should tell me that too i guess#yknow so i can have some confirmation so i dont feel like im crazy. idk. dont actually id never go online again. i would probably. well.#i dont like to say the words#simons spouting#vent :(
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noisy-weasel · 7 months
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Man how do you explain to your parents that no I don't have a future like stop pitching all these ideas to me because you sound insane. Like I guess they genuinely don't realize how close to death I am. I'd already be gone but there's no knives in the house Sharp enough. Like that's the ONLY reason I am alive. Period. And the fact I'm still here is so fucking stressful because every second I'm still alive is money and energy my family is wasting on me and I fucking hate hate hate it. Honest to god forcing people who are horribly suicidal to continue living is a crime like every year I'm still here increases how awful I feel tenfold and I should be able to buy pills that can kill myself just over the counter and there's just no excuses that I can't
#i know that sounds insane but if you've ever been horribly social you'd know how sure i am of this#it's genuinely a for society to try so hard to keep me here but there's also no resources to make me better#no healthcare no therapists can't even get afucking antidepressant without a therapist#at Least while i was still on my dads insurance my doctor couldn't put me on any#and then he forwarded me too a therapist that ALSO didn't prescribe pills#i couldn't pay for the sessions because of course i can't so WHYYYYY AREN'T YOU JUST LETTING ME KILL MYSELF???#like do you see how this doesn't make sense????#personal#suicide tw#srsly tho my parents just trying to pretend I'm not suicidal but i am genuinely going to be dead before 30 that's not a Joke that's#something i know in my heart is true#i was actually all planned and ready to kill myself when my parents went up both in July but my mom got sick and stayed home#it literally ruined everything#ahhhhhggg being alive sucks so much i feel so broken and worthless#someone buy me a knife please please please please#and honestly i think it's gotten to a point where i view getting a job as death#because i know i NEED a job because I'm nothing but a burden but i also know the moment i have money I'm starting a ticking click to my end#new killing myself is simply inevitable so getting a job ill hate (i have no prospects bc college too expensive and barely any experience#which will simply funnel me into a soul crushing American retail job)#so it's just like okay... my paychecks will be going toward a knife or a gun and itll be literally imposible for me to live if i have a#means of dying
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kiwi-bitchez · 2 months
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The Girlfriend Experience
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Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: Eddie doesn’t think he’s cut out for dating. Self-resigned to a life of one and done hookups, you’re determined to make him see that he has the capacity to be a worthy companion… for when the right girl comes around. Fake Dating AU, classic corny fic for a fav corny troupe, Stranger Things canon divergent ofc, 18+ smut (see warnings below), big dick energy but also slightly emotionally unavailable!Eddie, yada yada yada, you know the drill. 
Content warnings: AFAB reader with she/her pronouns, use of y/n, alcohol, smoking the devil’s lettuce, mention of panty stealing, food consumption, semi-public sex, fingering, PIV, Dom-ish!Eddie, oral (m and f receiving), pierced dick Eddie because I said so!, unprotected PIV sex, hair pulling, mild angst but nothing too angsty just like one heated conversation and Eddie feeling a little worthless but happy ending I promise
Word Count: 20k ahhhhhh!!!
A/N: Thanks to all those who comment and reblog! Your feedback and engagement makes my heart soar and keeps me motivated to write this filth! Sorry for the gargantuan length, in very-me fashion I always ending up writing one behemoth fic every so often rather than just separating it out into chapters. Also, realizing after the fact that I use the brand name ‘Goodwill’ a lot in this fic, which maybe not everyone might know is a thrift store, not sure if that’s just an American thing or not but figured it was worth noting. 
“I guess I’m just not boyfriend material, ya know?” Eddie shrugs.
“Don’t say that, Eds,” your eyebrows pinched together, “different qualities are important to different people. Not everyone is looking to date a Steve, or a Brian, or a whoever. I’m sure someone is out there looking for an Eddie.”
“It’s not that,” he shot a look towards Steve, who, despite your analogy, was unfortunately everyone’s type and the textbook definition of boyfriend material.
“I just don’t think I’d be very good at gooey romance stuff, or even like, passable boyfriend behavior. I mean, look at me, I hardly take care of myself, I’m loud, I have no money, I’m basically every dad’s worst nightmare, do I need to keep going?”
“The nightmare thing can actually be a bonus,” Steve chimes in, “the whole bad boy persona can be a huge draw for most girls.”
“Sure Steve,” Eddie’s voice grows exasperated, “I’m the mysterious bad boy until they realize I’m a huge loser who runs not one but two dungeons and dragons groups. Real fuckin’ attractive I’m sure that is.”
“Shows you’re committed to something…” you trail off when his eyes tell you to stop coming up with a positive spin for every excuse he gives. 
This whole discussion had started because of something that happened at the bar last night. A small group of you decided to meet up for drinks, your usual group of pals. It was a Thursday, so the bar wasn’t too busy. Your friends all squished into a booth in the corner, chatting and catching up over a plate of shared nachos, when Robin started making frantic gesture at you and Steve.
“Please just say what you’re trying to say instead of this elaborate charade,” Steve makes a few mocking hand signals back at her.
“Okay, one at a time, and keep it subtle,” her voice lowered to a whisper, for some reason, “over at the bar, some girl is totally flirting with Eddie.”
You and Steve both turn around. “I said not at the same time!” She whisper yells. 
There was, in fact, a pretty girl with shiny hair and glossy lips doing a half fake laugh and pressing her manicured hand to Eddie’s bicep. You whip back around to find Robin with her mouth hanging open in a “can you believe this is happening” way. 
“Good for him,” Steve swivels back around too, “She’s pretty hot.”
You return to your nachos, pretending there wasn’t a ping of jealousy in you. Eddie was your friend, that had been made abundantly clear.
When Robin introduced you to all her friends from high school, you had easily gotten along with all of them. You especially got along with Eddie. He was funny, authentic, abrasive at times, but a truly good person at his core, creative, protective, you could go on.
After getting to know him a bit, and developing a budding crush, you had made a few passes at him. Nothing too forward, just small compliments here and there, open ended offers to hang out that never lead anywhere.
It’s not like he flat out rejected you, but any feelers you were putting out to see if there was potential there were met with him looking past your flirtatious intent and just being his goofy, friendly self. He treated you exactly the same way he treated everyone else, which was awesome, except for when it wasn’t. 
“Oh no,” Robin’s gaze was not subtly fixed on the unfolding scene at the bar, you and Steve watched her face drastically shift from confused, to a cringe, to an eye roll.
Still half whispering, as if Eddie could even hear your corner of the bar, “He’s totally blowing it. DON’T both turn around at the same time again.” 
“Okay, so,” she starts before either of you can even confirm that you want to know, “she was totally laying it on thick, like you could see it from all the way back here. And he must have said something off putting, cuz all of a sudden she like went cold on him and pranced away. Shhhhh, okay okay, he’s coming back.”
She was acting as if she wasn’t the only one gossiping. You and Steve were innocent bystanders in all this. 
“WHAT was that?” She immediately blurts out when Eddie returns to his seat, fresh drink in hand. 
You and Steve share a side glance to sigh at Robin’s inability to be subtle, god bless her. Eddie shifts around awkwardly and lets out a forced dry laugh, taking a long sip from his drink before facing the wrath of a curious Robin. 
“Oh, that,” he gestures to the bar as if she could be asking about anything else, “some girl. Not sure.”
“Not sure? Eddie she was FLIRTING with you,” Robin all but yelled, causing Steve to scan the bar to see if the girl in question had landed somewhere within earshot. 
“I know that,” he hisses, “She just… wasn’t my type…”
“Okay sure, hot girl in a tube top and no bra isn’t your type, riiiiight,” Steve rolls his eyes.
“It’s just,” Eddie was so over this inquisition, “she asked if I wanted to get coffee.”
You, Steve, and Robin all give him a blank stare, trying to decipher what he could possibly have against getting coffee with a hot girl. 
“That’s like,” he gets defensive, detecting the wall of confusion facing him, “something people do on a date. Coffee is serious, and I’m not a very serious guy.”
“What do you mean ‘coffee is serious,’ coffee is like, as casual as you can possibly be?” Steve’s tone now emulated Robin’s from earlier, half whispering, half yelling, all scolding towards his friend. 
“That’s just not really my speed. Coffee dates and flowers and hand holding and all that,” he was avoiding eye contact with all three of you, “Yeah, she was hot, sure, and maybe if she had been like ‘hey lets go fool around in the bathroom’ then I wouldn’t be here having this lame ass conversation with you three. But I don’t do coffee dates, so I’m not gonna waste her time and pretend like I’m that sort of guy when I’m just not.” 
“Well good on you for not leading her on, cuz I’m sure you could have agreed to the coffee date and still gotten lucky in the bathroom,” Steve mumbles, and you smack the back of his head lightly to scold him. 
“So you only date girls who’ll fuck you in a bar bathroom the first time you meet?” You redirect your now equally scolding energy to Eddie.
“No!” He runs his hands through his hair, “I don’t date. Anyone, really. At all. Ever.”
“Oh,” you think for a minute, realizing in your few years of friendship you never had seen him with anyone, or heard him mention a romantic interest of any sort. 
Leading you to your present conversation, you and Steve continuing to question Eddie on his decision to reject the hot tube-top girl at the bar and why he felt like coffee was such a scary commitment. 
“You guys know me,” he continued to defend his stance, “If I took that girl out for coffee she probably would have picked some fancy hoity toity place and I wouldn’t know what anything on the menu meant, I’d probably spill something or like, get crumbs everywhere, and the bill would be way more than two coffees should be. It would have been a waste of both our time.”
He was staunchly refusing eye contact with the two of you, knowing he’d be met with something along the lines of pity. 
“Fine, we’ll drop the subject,” you shoot a look to Steve, “but I just need to make sure you understand that not every girl likes expensive coffee, or flowers and handholding, or whatever your expectation of girls and dating is. There’s plenty of girls who have similar interests to you, who feel the same way about PDA and mushy romance stuff that you do. You do know that, right?”
“Of course I do, y/n,” you could practically feel his eyes rolling at you, “but girls like that sure as fuck aren’t here in Nowhere, Indiana. Even if she was, I’m sure I’d still find a way to fuck it up given that I’ve had exactly zero serious girlfriends and the closest thing to a date I’ve ever been on is when you me and Steve pooled our ski ball tickets to win that ugly stuffed turtle.”
The memory of what you had all agreed to be the world’s ugliest stuffed animal caused all of you to crack a smile. Steve had silently agreed to change the subject, not wanting to dig Eddie any deeper into his pit of self despair. 
Steve’s mouth was half open, about to suggest that the three of you have a smoke and watch one of the rental movies he brought over, the words just about to escape him when you harshly cut off any chance at ending the pity-party.
“Date me!” You exclaim, without much thought. The shocked look from both boys caused you to rapidly back pedal , “You can date me, as practice!” You said it as if it was the simplest concept in the world. 
When met with gaping mouths and confused stares you continue on, “You and I can be fake boyfriend-girlfriend for like, a month, and I’ll tell you everything you do wrong, and like generic do’s and don’t’s, so that way the next time some hot girl hits on you, you can be all like ‘Coffee isn’t really my thing pretty lady, but I’d be down to get drinks sometime’,” you did a silly impression of Eddie’s voice, and then switched to a high pitched one to impersonate what you assumed the girl at the bar sounded like, “and then she’d be all like, ‘Oh yeah that sounds greaaaaat, getting coffee is just like, a generic catch-all thing that most people say when they want to get to know someone better, but you can buy me a drink’ and then the two of you will ride off into the sunset and it’ll be great.”
Still no reply.
“It won’t be all romantic and gooey, I promise I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to. It’d be a way for you to get some honest feedback and catch up with the stuff most people have to learn the hard way.” 
“I suppose you are the most brutally honest person I know,” Eddie doesn’t sound convinced. 
Steve just looked between the two of you with eyebrows raised, not knowing if giving his opinion on the matter would be appreciated or not. “I guess I would’ve appreciated someone telling me that most girls don’t want to be asked out with a pickup line from a John Hughes movie, would have saved me a few dozen rejections.”
“I’m pretty sure Robin did tell you that…”
“I don’t know y/n,” Eddie scratches his head. 
“It’ll be easy. Ask me out.”
“Huh?”
“Ask me out, for practice, ask me out on a date like I’m a pretty girl you met at some metal show or a DnD convention or something like that,” you stand in front of him with your hands out as if to prompt him to say something. 
“Will you go out with me?” He sounds more like he’s asking himself if he even wants to be asking the question.
“No.”
“What the hell!” He throws his hands up.
“I said no because that wasn’t a very good effort. Go out where? To do what? You’re asking me, a pretend stranger, out on a date Eddie, not if I want to go have a smoke with you.”
“Ughhhh,” he spun around and tried to get some sympathy for Steve, who unfortunately was on your side with this one. 
“A compliment or two doesn’t hurt as well,” Steve added, deepening Eddie’s groan. 
“Hey pretty stranger lady,” his voice was laced with sarcasm, but at least it wasn’t disdain, “you seem really…” he hesitated to find his words, “cool? Would you like to come see my band play this weekend at The Hideout? We-“
“No,” you cut him off.
“WHA-“
“Eddie, you can’t ask a girl to watch Corroded Coffin play for your first date with her, that’s like date four or five material, no girl wants to go sit by herself at a bar to watch some guy she just met play an hour of heavy metal. She would have to know you a little bit more for that to feel organic. Pick something more generic, like coffee.”
“I think you seem cool, would you like to get coffee with me?” it all came out as one monotone mumble from him. 
“Sure,” you wait for him to lift his head up to make eye contact with you, “But coffee isn’t really my thing, maybe we can go out for drinks?”
“Oh fuck off,” he flopped back onto the couch next to Steve. 
“See, now we have our first fake date, and then you can ask me to be your fake girlfriend, and then you’ll be so comfortable with emotional vulnerability that you can find a real girlfriend to take on real dates.”
“Yeah, I suppose it could be beneficial,” Eddie was slowly coming around to the idea. He knew that he was oddly charismatic at times, but he was just always too self conscious to follow through with the whole romance thing.
This maybe wasn’t a bad idea, because he knew you weren’t the kind of person who would make fun of his hobbies, or put him down if he slipped up, the sorts of things he was always afraid of girls doing. Sure, he’ll agree to the girlfriend experience. 
After a night of movies and pizza with Steve fake-third-wheeling, you made sure Eddie knew that the fake-date was actually happening, that the two of you would go out for drinks this weekend as your first official practice date. 
After giving it a bit of thought, you realized that you and Eddie had never hung out alone. In your feeble attempts at flirting with him all those months ago you had invited him to have movie nights or grab a bite to eat, but he always showed up with Steve and or Robin in tow.
As the night of the fake-date rolled around, you’d be embarrassed to admit it to him, or Steve, who didn’t care to hide how skeptical he was about this whole idea, that you went through your normal pre-date routine. You took some extra time on your hair and makeup, exfoliated in the shower, chose an outfit you felt confident in, added a few spritz of perfume for good measure too. 
Eddie rolled up in his van, only a few minutes late, but a few minutes was very impressive compared to his typical chronic tardiness. The two of you agreed to just grab some food and drinks at your usual spot, considering you and Steve openly agreed that it would be a good first date spot in theory. 
“Hey,” he reaches across the center console to pop the door open for you, “you look nice.”
It took you a second to register as you settled into the passenger seat, and then whip around with your arm outstretched to give him a high five. He scrunches his face at you.
“High five me Eddie, that was really good! I know you usually open the door for me anyways, but the compliment right away, A+,” you flop your hand down to gently slap his, still gripping the steering wheel. 
“Don’t patronize me, y/n,” deep down he knew you weren’t trying to talk down to him, and deep down he hadn’t even given complimenting you a second thought, he really did think you looked great in your date get-up. 
On the ride over to the bar, the two of you discuss some logistics. Considering all of this is just practice dating, you don’t expect Eddie to pay for you, but you explain that in theory if he had been the one to ask you out then he should be the one to pay for the first date. 
“To me it’s less of a gender thing and more of a who asked out who thing, but I know some people would abide to the stereotypical ‘the man always pays’ standard, which is why you’d just have to be honest on date like two or three about what you enjoy doing and what sorts of things are in your budget. You can still have fun and be thoughtful without spending a lot of money.”
He asked a few questions, like if he should have gotten you flowers for a first date, or what he should do if someone asks to go to a fancy restaurant that he surely couldn’t afford. You tried your best to give solid advice, but always reminded him that every person is different and every relationship is different, so all he can do is be honest. 
You take up a spot at the bar and both order for yourselves, splitting some fries and slipping into some easy conversation. 
“Am I supposed to, like, beat someone up if a guy tries hitting on you in front of me or something like that?” you nearly choke on your drink at his question. 
“Eddie, no,” you answer, also questioning, “why the hell would you ask me that?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “My buddy Jeff was with his girlfriend at this punk show before they were even together, and some guy made a creepy comment to Amanda and Jeff just decked the guy in the face. He say’s that’s what made her want to date him, cuz he defended her honor or whatever.”
“I guess that’s sort of circumstantial, but I prefer my dates to not engage in any sort of violence,” you sip your drink, “even if it’s for my honor. I’d like your face a lot less if you were all bruised up.”
“Well I never said I would get hit,” the two of you were laughing a bit now.
Over a few cocktails you went over some first date etiquette with him. PDA and being touchy, how to follow her lead and gauge if she’s the type who wants everyone at the bar to know you’re together, or keep it strictly platonic to start. How far of a grip on the leg is too far up, that sort of thing.  
“So if she does something like this,” you fake laugh a bit too loud and, lean into his personal space, and then run your hand from his slender down his arm, “that doesn’t necessarily mean she wants to fuck you, but it’s pretty close. You’ve at least got a green flag to get a little closer to her, tell her she looks nice, maybe offer to buy her a drink.”
“I know how to tell if someone finds me attractive, y/n, I’m not stupid,” he said casually, “obviously that girl the other night was hitting on me, I’m not blind. I wasn’t going to ask to buy her a drink or try and get lucky in the bathroom because I was out with my friends. I can find a quick fuck in a bar on my own time. I was having fun with you guys, I wasn’t going to abandon all of you to talk to some stranger, even if she was hot.”  
“Oh,” you processed his comment, “Steve would be happy to know he ranks above tube-top girl.”
“Steve would be happy to be above tube-top girl in any context,” he jokes. 
“You really just find random girls in bars to fuck?” You question, not in any sort of judgmental way, just curious. 
“Not specifically, I guess I did make myself sound like some serial bar-bathroom type of guy. I never really had girls interested in me when I was in high school, at least the first four years of it. Then when we started playing regular gigs at The Hideout it was a little easier to find girls who were interested, but it was always that they were more into fucking some guy who could play guitar and was in a band, so it usually just always happened on-site, probably cuz they had an actual boyfriend or husband to go home to. Girls think I’m fun. Which isn’t untrue, I do enjoy a romp in the Hideout bathroom, or the back of my van, or wherever we end up.”
“So that’s what all those blankets are back there for,” you say with a fake scowl, referring to his van set-up. 
“Not exclusively! They make a cozy nest for smoking blunts and listening to tapes too!” 
You return to your drink, trying not to think too hard about the girls that Eddie brings to bar bathrooms or his van or wherever. 
“I just find the energy of those situations very different from like, talking and getting to know someone. Fucking is easy. I’m not interested in ruining that by adding emotions and the looming feeling like sex is contingent on me acting a certain way or checking a certain number of boxes for someone.” 
He shrugged, and you could understand where he was coming from, sometimes a quick fuck or hookup could be cathartic and easy. But it also saddened you to think that Eddie believed he had to get in and out before the person on the other end got the chance to know him. 
Moving away from the subject of his inability to be emotionally vulnerable, the two of you practice some cheesy ‘first date’ questions as you had called them. As your drinks started to settle into your system you were having more fun being silly with him, pretending to be a stranger on a first date. 
“When’s your birthday?” You ask, twirling your drink straw with your finger and making some fake flirty eyes at him to accentuate the facade of asking him a bunch of questions you mostly knew the answers to. 
“August 9th,” he flips his hair over his shoulder, joining in on your fake ostentatious flirting. 
“Oh my gosh, a Leo! This will never work out, cuz I’m an asparagus…”
The two of you nearly fall out of your bar stools laughing, realizing you meant to say Sagittarius. 
“Okay, let’s get you home Asparagus,” he helped you up, having kept his drinking to a minimum so he could drive you home. 
“Wait, wait,” you grabbed his arm as the two of you exited the bar, “can we go back to your trailer?”
He raised an eyebrow at you, “that’s a little presumptuous for a first date missy.”
“No, no, this isn’t girlfriend y/n asking, just regular friend y/n, who thinks it would be a lot of fun to smoke and watch a movie without Steve there spewing all his annoying fun facts, like, we get it, you read the little insert inside the tape while you were bored at work!”
Eddie did agree that the idea of packing a bowl and watching a few movies with you didn’t sound too different from what his plans would have been otherwise, so he agreed, as long as you promised not to give him any dating advice while hanging out as friend y/n and not girlfriend y/n. 
Although you promised to try your best, you immediately started lecturing him on t-shirt borrowing and the potential weight that could hold in a relationship when he offered to give you some more comfy clothes to change into. 
“It’s important to know!” You emerged from the bathroom in one of his oversized shirts and a pair of boxers, “Some girls are very touchy about it. Any shirt you lend her to sleep in, you have to be willing to sacrifice for life.”
“For life?!” Eddie finishes making a bowl of popcorn for the two of you, swallowing his words when he sees you in his clothes, an unidentifiable emotion rising in him at the sight of you so cozy and integrated into his space. 
“Well maybe not life,” you plop down onto the couch, “but do NOT ask for it back. Most girls will give it back once it stops smelling like you.”
“If she gets my shirt, can I have her underwear?” He asked without thinking, the weed he had just smoked with you hitting him a bit too hard in that moment. 
“Oh my god,” you squeal and bury your face into a pillow, “la la la la, pretending like I didn’t hear that!”
“I’m just saying!” He laughs at you, now curled up into a ball, “fair is fair, right?”
“I guess it depends on the girl,” you mumble. 
“So I’m guessing not you, by your reaction.”
“Eddie!” You smack him with a pillow, “I don’t know, no one’s ever asked!”
“If my girlfriend isn’t going to ask before stealing my shirt for an indefinite amount of time, I think that gives me panty privilege.”
“Wow Eddie, if I had known you were such a perv I would’ve reconsidered being your fake girlfriend,” you say sarcastically, with no real judgement behind it. The idea of him wanting to steal your underwear dampens them ever so slightly. 
“Don’t worry babe, I won’t do anything pervy to you unless you ask nicely,” he shoots a wink at you, which you meet with an eye roll and a turn away to hopefully hide the heat rising in your cheeks. 
The two of you carry out your platonic movie night as planned. You suppressed any urge to note on his actions from a romantic lens, and he ignored the itching desire to sling his arm around your shoulder or pull your legs into his lap to get more comfy on the couch. 
“Can I sleep here Eddie,” you ask after movie two, “too sleepy to move.”
“Sure, I can take the couch and you can have my bed. It’s been a minute since I washed the sheets but it shouldn’t be too bad…”
“Nonono,” you mumble, “Your legs will totally hang right off the end of this thing. I’m conked out anyways, I can crash right here I promise.”
“Ignoring that you’re my fake girlfriend, I’m not letting you sleep out here on this lumpy thing. You’re taking the bed, no arguments.”
He helps you up from the couch, letting you keep the blanket that’s wrapped around you, snaking his arm underneath it and pulling you from the couch by your lower back. You were slightly taken aback by his assistance, body still limp from your relaxed state, your torso easily arching into his. Your arms fly up to grab his shoulders, steadying yourself with an awkward giggle. 
“In the real world, a time like this would be good for a first kiss,” you make note of your closeness, the way he swept you up off the couch and held you steadily as you made your way to your feet. 
“I know that, y/n,” his face was closer to yours than it had ever been, making your words hitch in your throat. 
“Well, I’m just saying,” you turn your head to avoid the tension, “I’m sure the way you kiss your bar-hookups isn’t the way most girls who’re looking to date you long term want to be kissed for the first time.”
‘Oh yeah? And how do you presume that goes?” He kept his hand planted on your lower back.
You pretend to act wildly drunk, throwing yourself at him and letting your limbs go a bit heavier than they already were. “Ohmygod guitar man, I’ve had like, six dirty Shirleys, please finger bang me in the bathroom,” you slur your words and let your tongue loll out the side of your mouth as if to lean in for the world’s sloppiest and most uncoordinated kiss.
“First of all,” his voice was very serious, “I don’t hook up with girls who are too inebriated to stand, let’s get that straight. As a matter of fact, I wouldn’t even have our first fake kiss like this on account of the drinking and smoking, gotta make sure you’re in the right headspace. Secondly,” 
He spins you around and quickly backs you up against the wall that stood a few feet behind the couch. His hand sliding up in between your shoulder blades, blanket now slumped around your waist, his other hand suavely cupping the side of your cheek, His hips angled into yours, pinning you back against the vinyl, almost collapsing back into it. 
He pressed against you, not aggressively, but enough to let you know that if you were to try and squirm away he had the capacity to keep you right where he wanted you. He accomplished this all in one elegant motion, leaving you a bit dazed.
As you started to snap into reality, he moves his hand from your cheek down to grab your chin in between his thumb and the knuckle of his pointer, angling your face directly up at him. 
“If you were some girl in a bar, it would be like this.”
The moment before your brain turned to absolute mush, you silently cringed at the thought of what you must look like, mouth hanging open, eyes glassed over, body instinctively sinking into his touch. Pathetic, you were sure of it. 
Sure, Eddie did think you looked a little helpless, but he also thought you looked perfect. Exactly as he had imagined you to in this situation. Of course he had thought about you before, like that.
Of course he had felt an immediate spark with you when you had first met. But he never flirted back, or lead you on, because as much as he was attracted to you and enjoyed your company, he knew that it wouldn’t work out. He wasn’t relationship material, and you were the picture perfect girlfriend that he didn’t deserve. 
He spoke directly into your parted lips, mouth hovering just far enough away to toe the line of ‘holy shit, is he going to?’ But no, as he made very clear, he wouldn’t kiss you under these conditions. He had made his point, and slowly backed off and let you find your footing. 
As soon as he was sure that you were steady, he backed away and started down the hallway. 
“I might have an extra toothbrush stashed away somewhere, let me look…” he ducked into the bathroom, leaving you stunned in the kitchen, head swimming and your stomach traveled up into your throat. 
He was teasing you, he must be. That was his little way of getting back at you for thinking you could give him dating advice. If he was unsure about his capacity for romance, he was going to make sure you knew he was more than capable in other ways. Understood. 
You shook your head, weeding through your inner monologue of how he could possibly look at you like that and then just walk away. Your shock gave him just long enough for you to to not notice him splashing cold water on his face in the bathroom while he “looked for a toothbrush.” 
The two of you decided to ignore the lingering tension from the events in the kitchen, not a peep of fake-girlfriend talk from you for the rest of the night. He did find you that toothbrush, and the two of you moved through a too-easy domestic routine of getting ready for bed. 
You told him that you wouldn’t be able to sleep if you knew he was cramped on that couch, and that you were fine with sharing a bed. You mumbled something about  getting around to bed sharing etiquette at some point anyways, and sleepily pulled him into being your little spoon. 
Eddie lay there, trying not to twitch or fidget, relaxed as best he could into your cuddled form thinking about how horrible of an idea all of this was. He was convinced all it would take is roughly ten more minutes of you burying your face into his hair and making cute little sleepy noises for him to fall irreversibly in love with you. 
But what was he supposed to do? Move and wake you up? Never. 
You rolled around enough in the night to wake up in a less intimate position than when you had fallen asleep. You knew Eddie was a deep sleeper, and took it upon yourself to creep out of bed and back into your day clothes, make a pot of coffee, and watc a bit of TV before he roused and joined you in the living room. 
“Why didn’t you wake me?” He rubbed the crust from his eyes and was pleasantly surprised to see you had brewed a whole pot of coffee to share. 
“You looked so peaceful and cozy,” he shook his head at you, as if that was no excuse for letting him sleep an extra forty minutes.  
After a slow morning, he agrees to drive you home. 
“So this is the part where I say ‘Eddie, I had such a wonderful time on our date. I’d love to do it again sometime.’ And then you agree and tell me when you’re free. It’s best to be super direct and make plans to get together again soon, cuz then it’s not an awkward who’s-gonna-call-who-first sort of thing.”
“Uh-huh…” he stares at you blankly. 
“But for our sake, let’s just agree that I’m in charge of planning our next date. Okay? I’ll do it from the perspective of what I think most girls would enjoy, so you can steal it for the future. I’ll call you later.” 
You hop out of his van before he can agree, and leave him with a “Thanks for letting me stay over!” As you bound away from his view. 
He squeezed his eyes shut the moment he caught himself checking your ass out as you walked away, and let his head rest down on the steering wheel. He was fucked. How the hell was he supposed to tell you that you needed to stop being his fake girlfriend without disrupting the homeostasis of your friendship?
On one hand he could lie and say he doesn’t want your advice, making you think he didn’t enjoy your company, which was entirely untrue. On the other hand he could tell you the truth, and you would never be friends the same way again. 
He drove home with the music too loud, and patiently awaited your call later that evening to iron out the details of your second fake-date. 
Per your instructions, he let you pick him up this time with the argument that you were the one taking him out this time. He didn’t know what you had planned, but let himself fall to the mercy of whatever you had decided was an exemplary date fore him to ‘steal in the future’. 
You picked up two coffees and rolled up to the trailer park, popping a mix-tape he had made you ages ago. 
“Hey, I thought we said no paying for each other with fake-dating,” he objects to the coffee sat in the passenger cupholder, some abomination of mostly cream and sugar, the way you know he likes it. 
“Yes, that’s true, but you smoked me up the other night, and this coffee was like a dollar fifty, so don’t worry about it,” you give him a look that tells him to drink the damn coffee and not sass back, to which he complies, even though he smokes you up expecting nothing in return about every other weekend. 
The two of you sip away and listen to Eddies ‘must-know-to-be-my-friend’ mixtape and arrive shortly at the strip mall across town. This was a regular weekly stop for both of you, the strip of connected stores containing the Goodwill, a pet store, the pharmacy, and grocery. A pretty mundane collection. 
“Okay, what are we doing at Greg’s?” Eddie gestures to the grocery store, the back of his mind running through the grocery list he’s been making for this week anyways.
“What’s the perfect date?” You ask, and answer for him, “a romantic picnic. But gathering supplies is half the fun. Picnic food supplies at Greg’s, some pills to get fucked up at the pharm, some turtles or something to let loose into the wild from the pet store, and then hats, cups, blanket, etcetera from the Goodwill.”
He turns to you with the most bewildered stare, which sends you into a fit of giggles.
“Okay, I’m joking about the pills and the turtles,” you nudge his arm, “but won’t it be sweet to get together some picnic supplies and then drive out to lookout point? We can still swing by the pet store to check out the ferrets though.”
To Eddie, the idea of a date involved him doing something he didn’t want to do, some awkward small talk, and spending money on shit he truly thought was useless. This didn’t sound half bad. You would “work backwards so the food purchases come last” according  to your reasoning, and he followed you in tow without any arguments into the Goodwill.
“So I’m thinking…” you start to wander into the aisles of used clothes and knick knacks, “maybe a blanket? A basket would be sort of corny, but if we find one for cheap I don’t see why not. Surely two glasses for drinking, and maybe some sun hats?”
Swiveling back around to see a half stunned Eddie, who was still processing how in the hell this was your idea of a romantic date, you grab his hand and pull him to the bric-a-brac section. 
After it got through his thick skull that the same place he had uncomfortably tried on new pants throughout his growth spurt, and picked up his daily-worn leather jacket, had the same potential to provide some silly, cheap, used items to add some flair to this picnic. 
Silly and cheap was right up Eddie’s alley. The two of you picked out mismatched champagne glasses, one with the engraved name of a couple who got married in 1943 and the other a flashy rose color with baby angel carvings dancing around the sides. 
You luckily find an on sale beach blanket, and the two of you pick out some very goofy sun hats. A floppy farmers hat for you, and a bedazzled trucker hat spelling ‘hot mama’ for Eddie.
Through the midst of your giggles and debate on whether you should buy a wooden bench to bring out to your picnic destination, Eddie found himself having a really good time with you. 
As promised, you visited the pet store and checked out the ferrets and fish and geckos. 
“If you could have any pet, what would you want?” You asked him, noses pressed against the chinchilla enclosure. 
“Jaguar,” he said, a little too quickly.
“For real, dummy,” you knock your hip into his.
“I don’t know, we never had enough space or extra money for pets growing up, so maybe someday if I had enough room for it to run around I’d like a dog or something,” he tells. Eyes still transfixed on the chinchilla behind the glass. 
“I can see that,” you imagine Eddie with some mutt from the shelter, wrestling around and giving it lots of scratches behind the ears. 
Skipping the pharmacy, you pop into the grocery store and assemble what may be the world’s most eclectic picnic. 
“That’s the definition of a picnic, I’m pretty sure,” you explain after Eddie insinuated that the gingersnap cookies you grabbed, along with grapes and a block of cheese, wasn’t exactly a meal, “you know, just a smorgasbord of whatever we want!”
Admittedly, Eddie had considered a handful of pretzels and a beer to be dinner on more than one occasion, so he couldn’t argue with you. Quickly catching your drift, the two of you picked out an assortment of snacks and some ingredients for pb&j sandwiches. 
“I thought picnics were supposed to be classy?” Eddie holds up the Wonder bread and bag of potato chips with a look that suggested his question was rhetorical.
Your response was simply to raise the, admittedly cheap, bottle of champagne you grabbed to accompany with your meal, more for the irony of drinking the bubbly liquid out of your new used glasses with your sticky sandwiches than anything else. 
You pack your supplies into a tote bag, not having found a suitable basket at the thrift store, and drive across town to a dirt paved road that leads to a nice lookout point with a view of the lake. 
“Let’s walk down the path a little bit, but not too far,” you grab the blanket and tote bag from your trunk, motioning for Eddie to put on his ‘hot mama’ hat and carry your other auxiliary supplies, “I do not fuck with bugs.”
“I’ll protect you,” Eddie puffs out his chest, making you both giggle.
“From bugs?”
“Yeah, I’ll punch a mosquito right in the face, to defend your honor and all that.”
“I know I told you not to do that, but a mosquito might be the exception to the rule.”
You found a nice little clearing not far from the car, a spot that still had a nice view but was a bit more secluded. Eddie sat pressed right up next to you, making your sandwich ‘to be a proper gentleman’ but simultaneously spilling a glob of jelly onto your leg.
“Shit,” he doesn’t think twice before leaning down and slurping the grape flavored blob off of your bare knee, tongue poking out and licking the spilt jelly from your skin.
“Eddie!” You squirm away, barking out a surprised laugh. 
“What! Your knee is clean, wouldn’t want to waste perfectly good preserves, or a napkin.”
You feel your skin tingle where his lips had touched you, for only a moment, but you still felt it. He was so confident and casual in his movements, not having any hesitation to grab your hand or brush your hair out of your face. It wasn’t under the guise of fake romance, he had always been like that. Not touchy, per se, just sure of himself. You’d never seen Eddie do anything half assed, that’s for certain.
After the conversation you shared the other night, you were unable to stop your mind from wandering to thoughts of what Eddie does with those girls in bars, if he touched him with the same confidence and sureness he put into everything else he did. 
It was wrong to let your mind go to such dirty places about someone you considered a friend, but you couldn’t manage to feel any guilt. He had offered that information freely, so who were you to punish yourself for staring a little longer at his fingers, conjuring up the context in which he’d bury them inside you against some grimy bar bathroom. 
The date was all peanut butter smiles and bubbly laughter that floated up into the trees. Silly, yes, but neither of you could deny there was something sweet, maybe even romantic about it. A cheap meal in the woods shared between two friends in ill-fitting fifty cent hats, but an undeniable touch of romance lingered nonetheless. 
Eddie started to realize that maybe the whole dating thing wasn’t as uptight and scary as he had initially thought. It could be easy and fun, with the right person. And fuck, if he could even imagine doing this with anyone but you. 
Like most things Eddie did, he did not consider any potential consequences before acting. You looked so pretty sitting there in the sunshine, sipping from your cheap ‘Martha & Dave ’43’ glass, a few sandwich crumbs dotting the corner of your mouth.
What else was he supposed to do other than lean over and wipe them away with his thumb, stroking your soft cheek and feel the warmth of your skin beneath his palm. 
“You had some,” he uses his other hand to motion at his own mouth, “and I suppose this is the sort of moment where I’d ask if I can kiss you.” 
You find yourself a bit dumbfounded, his big stupid hand on your cheek and those big stupid puppy dog eyes unrelenting in making everything he says seem so genuine.
“Are you?” You find your voice, only half embarrassed at how shy it comes out.
“Am I what?”
“Are you asking me?”
“Yeah,” his answer comes out in a way that insinuates that he never meant anything other than that, that he was always asking to kiss you, he wasn’t asking in theory, in another universe, in the context of advice. 
“Okay,” you found yourself behaving like Eddie, not really thinking of consequences before your words and actions spoke on behalf of your instincts.
Everything so far had been so easy. Your fake first date at the bar, curling up next to him in a haze, making up stories about what sort of people donated the fake palm tree or the Garfield mug at the Goodwill, imagining Eddie running around a yard with a puppy, lounging in the grass and eating your assorted picnic snacks. It was all effortless.
Suddenly, being kissed by Eddie sucked the ease from your lungs and sent your mind spiraling into a cacophony of bells and whistles and giant swirling red flags. If this is how he kissed you, casually across some half eaten peanut butter sandwiches, you’d spend the rest of your days yearning to know how he kissed someone with true intention. 
Of course, his intentions were all there, but the lingering knowledge that all of this was happening under the umbrella of “you giving him advice” or “helping practice for the next girl” poisoned any true feeling he poured into it. He cupped your cheek, soft, let his lips press into yours delicately for a moment before he felt your breath hitch, opening his mouth just enough to deepen the kiss and capture your lower lip fully. 
He was more careful, gentle, methodic with his movements and so receptive to every little signal your body gave him, it was unlike any first-kiss, heat-of-the-moment-kiss, in-the-throws-of-passion-kiss, any of it. Like hell you’d ever tell him that, inflate that big ego that fuels his snippy comebacks at you, but Jesus, was it remarkable. 
While at war with yourself internally, your heart was on the precipice of exploding in your chest from the way he snaked his hand into your hair and pressed his forehead against yours to catch a breath. You suck in a sharp breath and feel that stupid cocky smirk creep up onto that pretty mouth of his.
“’S that sufficient for a first kiss?”
“Fuck offfff,” you were still a little out of breath, smacking his chest and flopping back down onto the picnic blanket, throwing your arms up and rolling your eyes at him, “if you’re so damn confident, maybe we just should fake break up, cuz you don’t seem like you need my advice.”
“Nooooo,”he slumps down next to you, burrowing his head under your arm so he can pop up right next to your face, “I’m learning a lot, I promise! This date was so fun, and cheap! I would have never thought any of this could be remotely romantic. I’m hopeless, y/n, look at me.”
He wriggles around and gives you a big fake pout, “If left to my own devices I would probably do something horribly embarrassing or off-putting, like…” he digs his head into the crook of your neck and blew a fat, wet raspberry right into your skin, making you yelp and squeal, but his position half on top of you pins you down. 
“See!” He pulls up for air, you were in a fit of screaming giggles, “I’d go right in for a kiss and just,” and he does it again, leaving you gasping for air, trying your best to tickle his ribs to get him off of you, but not minding the close contact by any means. 
“Now I’m not so sure,” he pulls back to give you a minute to catch your breath, “it seems like you enjoyed that, so maybe survey says I should pull that move on the ladies.”
Your airy laughter subsided, but he stays half pinning you down to the blanket and the lumpy grass underneath.
“I didn’t mean to give you the impression that I’m not grateful for your help,” he says earnestly, catching your gaze, “it’s just… this isn’t what I need help with.”
As his statement is processing, you find his lips back on yours, his torso pressed flushed with yours and his wild mane of hair coming down to curtain around your head. He doesn’t take it too far, but kisses you as earnestly as he had before, giving your lip a slight drag with his teeth and running his hand up from your hip up the side of your ribcage, leaving you arching slightly into him by pure instinct.
Before your head got too dizzy again, before you could really throw yourself into it and say fuck it and kiss him back the way you secretly wanted to, he pulled back.
“That.” his voice was even, you hated how needy you felt and how even keeled he could be milliseconds after stealing the air from your lungs, “It’s the rest of it,” he threw his hands up and gestured to all the food and knock knacks around you, “it’s this stuff that you make seem so easy, so forgive me if I lay it on a little thick when we get to the parts I’m actually good at.”
“Just,” you sat up a bit, grounding yourself and formulating a response despite your brain looping the past twenty seconds back infinitely, “don’t do that again.”
“Okay,” he sat back and popped a grape into his mouth, “sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” you knocked his knee with yours, struggling to articulate how you felt without showing too much of your hand, deciding to just be candid, “I just- I liked that a little too much if you know what I mean. And this is strictly business, or education, maybe?”
“You liked it when I pinned you against the wall the other night,” he said matter of factly, “I think you liked that a little too much too, and you still took me on this fake educational business date.”
“Yeah, well, you caught me,” you threw your hands up in defense.
“Which one is it though?” He asks and you don’t quite understand, “are you a sweet kiss on the picnic kind of girl, or an up against the wall kind of girl?”
“That’s none of your business, as far as fake-dating is concerned,” you say a little too quickly, “and no you can’t have my panties.”
You say it with a smirk, but he doesn’t press any further. He turns and does that Eddie-thing he’s so good at, just changing the subject and shifting the vibe completely away from what might have been a stale moment or awkward pause. He starts asking if you like green or purple grapes better, going off about how he used to put them in the freezer as a kid. 
The remainder of your date went without a hitch, of course. You picked away at your picnic until the sun started to set, and once the sky started turning purple you made your way back to the car. The drive home consisted only of easy conversation and no further mention of the kiss, well, kisses that had transpired. He hopped out of the passenger seat with a ‘thank you’ and a ‘see ya later alligator.’ 
A scalding hot shower, a restless night of sleep, and too many cups of herbal tea the next morning did nothing to quell the noise in your head that blasted those moments over and over. You couldn’t stop picking apart whether he had thought about it for even a millisecond, and felt embarrassed that you could think of nothing else. 
It was simply an amplified version of what your whole friendship had been up until this point. You silently admiring him and wishing he would look at you the way you looked at him, and settling for friendship over heartbreak. 
Pushing it aside to the best of your ability allowed you to get through your week, but you had the lingering feeling that the next time you saw him would strike you with warm cheeks and a scrambled mental state.
Guilt had started to seep in at the corners of your mind, but you reminded yourself that you shouldn’t punish yourself for having romantic or sexual thoughts about someone you simply found attractive and compelling, it was your actions that would determine the validity of your guilt. 
“Long time no see, loser,” Robin hollered from the pool table across the bar, where she was likely kicking Steve’s ass. 
“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” you shrug off your coat and plop down at their regular booth, knowing her jabs were entirely empty. You notice Eddie’s leather jacket hung up by the wall, and scan the bar to find him ordering a drink. 
There was a silent mutual understanding that you’d keep the fake dating thing to a bare minimum when out with your friends like this. Even though Steve was well aware, and therefore Robin was too, you figured tainting your social time with the performance of romance is the exact reason Eddie turned down the girl at the bar in the first place. 
“For the lady,” Eddie waltzes over and hands you a drink.
“Oh, thanks,” you take it with a confused smile, “you didn’t have to do that.”
“You bought me coffee last weekend,” he sat across the booth from you, “plus I’m trying to get better at buying drinks for pretty girls, right?”
You remind him that he doesn’t have to keep tabs on things like coffee, but you appreciate the gesture regardless. As per the past few times you’d been out with your friends, you expected him to put a pause on the flirting, but it seems to be bubbling over tonight. You weren’t complaining, but admittedly the arm around your shoulder or the noticeable way he checked you out when you got up to refill your drink took you by slight surprise. 
Sneaking in to claim the always occupied dart board for a challenge against Eddie while he uses the restroom, you keep your eyes on the corner of the bar to signal him over once he returns.
“You need a partner?” A man suddenly appears behind you, a little closer than you’d like but the bar was crowded, so you’ll let it slide. 
“Oh, I was just waiting for-“
“Let me fill in until your friend gets here, we can get you warmed up, yeah?” His tone wasn’t too pushy, but you didn’t love the look he gave you when making that comment.
Awkwardly staggering for a second, unsure weather to just agree or tell him to fuck off, “He really should be just a minute-“
“Or maybe less,” Eddie comes up right behind you and pulls you possessively into his side.
Your head whips up to see him with a devilish smile, his hand on your waist and the fire behind his eyes telling his guy to get lost.
“Oh, sorry man,” the guy starts backing away with an apologetic look.
“Yeah, better luck next time, pal,” Eddie snakes around to take the guy’s spot in front of the dart board.
He had his darts in hand and took his stance to start the match, gesturing for you to do the same. 
“What was that,” you ask with a slight joking tone, but seriously curious.
“What?” He doesn’t make eye contact and instead throws the first dart, “I’m not allowed to get fake jealous?”
“You’re allowed to feel any fake emotion you want, I guess,” your tone is somewhere in between a joke and a question. 
“You’d feel fake jealous if I was getting blown in the bathroom by some chick rather than playing darts with you, I bet.”
“Okay,” your tone shifts to defensive, “getting blown is very different than some guy asking to play darts with me.”
“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” Eddie turns to face you, having thrown all his darts, “for real.”
A moment lapsed where you didn’t register that your mouth was hanging open in disbelief, the look in your eyes Eddie immediately clocked as lust and bottled up to store away for a later time. 
“I knew the scary dog thing would work,” his ‘i-told-you-so’ tone rubbed you the wrong way, but he wasn’t wrong, “you said girls weren’t into that, but you totally looooove that I defended your honor.”
“Don’t give yourself too much credit, I said girls wouldn’t be into it if you punched him,” you rolled your eyes.
“I don’t know, babe, I think you liked the whole ‘back off of my woman’ act.”
You mumble out a ‘whatever’ and let him have this win, which he was clearly reveling in, trying to focus instead at beating him at darts. 
“Just don’t pull shit like that on a first date, acting too possessive off the bat is a huge red flag for a lot of women.”
“I thought we weren’t doing dating advice tonight?” You don’t even have to look at him to know he’s got that stupid sarcastic smile.
“Yeah I thought so too,” you fail at your attempt to beat him in darts, as well as your attempt to not flirt back with him. 
He insists on collecting all the darts, picking up the ones haphazardly strews across the floor from failed attempts to hit the board. 
“I’m no pro or anything, but I think you’d hit the board a lot more if you fixed your stance.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you flip him the bird and take back your red tipped darts. 
As you steady your arm to aim your first shot he comes up behind you and grabs your hips, causing you to let out an unexpected squeak. He adjusts your stance, not aggressively, but with some force, twisting your hips and using his big combat boot to sweep your foot around so you stood more sideways. 
“You’re standing straight on,” he backs up, allowing you to secretly catch your breath, “and all your shots are veering to the right. If you plant your feet more angled you’ll hit the board.”
You wanted to roll your eyes at him, miss on purpose to show him he’s full of shit. You flippantly toss the dart, not trying particularly hard, and it hits. Not a bulls-eye or anything like that, but a lot closer than your previous attempts had been. 
“Good girl,” he comments, leaning in to breech your personal space just enough to make your blood boil.
You drop the remainder of the darts in your opposite hand onto the floor and whip around to face him, half jokingly smacking him on the shoulder. 
“Oh my god, fuck off!”
You’re met with his trademark shit-eating grin.
Truthfully, Eddie hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off you all night. He’d spent the night after your picnic date with his hand in bis boxers, squeezing his eyes shut and remembering the little gasp you had made when he grabbed your waist, the hum in your throat that bubbled up when he kissed you pinned against the blanket, that night and every night since. 
“Oh, you don’t like that?” that joking tone he uses to cover up what he actually wants to say. 
“Shut up, you know I do,” you didn’t even try to stifle your reaction, knowing it was his intent to get under your skin.
“How would I possibly know that,” he playfully looks up at the ceiling and around the bar, hands clasped behind his back now, rocking back and forth on his heels.
“You better cut that shit out, unless you plan on doing something about it,” you manage the most assertive tone your wobbly insides could muster, a little shocked at yourself for actually saying what you were thinking. 
“I’m not much of a planner,” he gracefully takes a stance next to you and rips all three darts, not great shots, but all hitting the board, “I’m more of a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of guy, you know that.”
“Well your pants better make up their mind if you’re playing boyfriend tonight or not,” your insinuation was heavy but you had fumbled your hand, and he had already seen all your cards at this point, so there was no reason to bluff.
“The real question is,” he leans in, his imposing figure crowding your space in a way that made your head spin, “do you want me to play boyfriend? Or do you want me to play guy who fucks your brains out in the bar bathroom?”
Your eyebrows pinched together for a millisecond, and before he could decipher your expression you grabbed his hand and started storming through the crowds hoarded by the bar. Why the hell a seedy downtown bar has a single stall family bathroom with a changing table is beyond you, but you drag him inside and slam the lock down behind you. 
“You’re not allowed to treat me any differently after this,” you start to fall into the sinkhole of oh my god what the hell is about to happen, but are cut off by him pressing you against the closed door the exact way he had handled you against his kitchen wall that night weeks ago. 
“Not unless you want me to,” he doesn’t hesitate to get his mouth on yours, immediately pulling your mind from wondering what the vague sticky substance on the door pressing into your back could be. 
“I mean, you’re not allowed to fuck me and then never talk to me again,” you say in between moving lips and tongues, giving him a moment to bury his face in your neck, "Promise me."
“Oh don’t worry about that,” he pulls back, “we can go get coffee tomorrow and you can give me a full performance review. Promise.”
Your annoyed eye roll quickly turns into them fluttering shut as he licks a stripe up to the junction behind your ear that has you melted into a boneless puddle between his pressing hips and the door. He drags his teeth across your lobe while leaning into you with a black denim clad thigh.
“Why don’t we make a deal,” you let out, voice breathy and unfocused. Before he can even pull back to reply you continue, “if you’re half as good at this as you claim to be, and can make me cum in this dingy bathroom, I’ll let you take me back to your trailer and you can do whatever the fuck you want to me.”
He was leaning in to seal the deal with a kiss before he could even process your request, because yes of course, a million times yes he’s taking this deal. Despite the rouse of you playing bar hookup for the night, and despite the idea of bringing you back to his place and finally doing what he’s wanted since the day he met you absolutely terrifying him, he nods and kisses you. 
It’s electrifying. His confidence only spurs you on to kiss him harder, grip his hair a little tighter, say the things you would only imagine in the deepest parts of your mind. The feeling of his grin against your lower lip and his fingers quickly unbuttoning your jeans fuels your fire. 
“You sure you know what you’re getting into,” he mumbles playfully, pulling you away from the wall with a gasp and leading you over to the tiny built in counter against a mirror by the sink. 
“Well I’m certainly not letting you fuck me against any of these sticky surfaces,” you note as you’re lifted onto the counter covered in mystery substance, “and I think you need to earn it.”
Of course it was no surprise to you that Eddie was good with his fingers. You probably could have told anyone that long before this impromptu bathroom hookup. Egging him on and challenging him in a way you were sure he wasn’t used to was well worth abandoning your assumptions. 
“Oh yeah? I think, if you’re lucky, I’ll earn it more times than you can count before the night’s over,” he positioned himself in between your legs, pressing your torso into the mirror behind you as he leaned in for another heated kiss. 
He pulled your ass to the edge of the counter, and looped his thumbs into the waistband of your unbuttoned pants. You were quick to assume that he’d yank the fabric right off your legs, preparing to lift your ass from the counter to assist.
Eddie paused, pulled back and gave you a look that asked ‘you’re sure about this?’ and when a dreamy smile spread across your cheeks he melted into you with a kiss that turned your stomach inside out and made your pussy flutter.
He snakes a hand from its grip on your torso down into your unbuttoned pants. You arched up into his touch, wanting to urge him to get on with it and get your pants and underwear out of the way, but appreciating how much he seemed to be reveling in feeling you for the first time. 
“So fuckin wet,” he mumbled against your lips, his fingers only feeling up your cunt from outside your underwear. He pressed the fabric into your slick center, following the path up to your clit and then teasingly back down to where your panties were soaked through.
“You weren’t lying when you said you liked this a little too much,” he’s rolling his hips ever so slightly against your spread thigh as he rubs your clothed pussy, his teeth sinking into your lower lip as he moves the material aside and sinks two fingers right into your wet cunt with ease.
You were sure that you’d retrospectively have a million quippy compacks that come to mind, but in this moment it was impossible to come up with words when his fingers were buried inside you, still, just letting you squeeze around them, and his hard cock straining against his jeans nestled against the inside of your thigh.
He slowly drags his finger’s up from your hole to your clit, and you let out a whine of desperation as he fully removes his hand from your damp underwear. 
Before you can manage the breath to tell him to please, for the love of god, get on with it, he brings his fingers up to his lips and gives them a long suck, never breaking eye contact with you. 
“Yeah,” he sighs out and presses his forehead against yours, “I might like that a little too much too.”
Protests and urging words catch in your throat as he yanks down your pants and underwear with one quick pull, not even needing you to lift your ass off the counter more than it already was. He was methodical and moved with intention, folding up your pants neatly and shoving your soaked panties into his back pocket, shooting you a wink. 
“Eddie, please,” your overdue complaints are finally bubbling over. You hardly finish your plea before his face is buried in your neck, and his fingers are sliding right back into your needy hole. 
The top of your head rests against the mirror behind you, exposing your neck and arching your back into his touch. He sucks and nips at the soft skin between your collar bone and ear, all while letting his two middle fingers pump slowly into you.
“Mmmm,” he mumbles into the crook of your jaw, “such a good girl for me, perfect pussy squeezing my fingers so tight, can’t fuckin wait to feel you soak my cock.”
Nearly orgasming at his words alone, your eyes flutter shut and you let out a moan of his name as he lets his thumb drag circles across your clit. “Eddie, please, just like that, I-”
“Oh, suddenly she’s not questioning my abilities?” he says with a biting smirk, “What was that about me not being half as good as I think I am?”
“Fuck,” you want to raise an eyebrow and shoot something back, hold out and make him work for it, but after hardly two minutes of his fingers rolling inside you, hooked up to drag along that perfect fucking spot, you had no choice but to feed his ego and let him win. 
“You wanted to make your little deal,” he pumps a little faster, making your head loll to the side and mouth hang half open, “I’ll sweeten it for you, babe. I say we can get this pretty pussy to come twice all over my fingers before anyone even knocks on this door.”
“Yes,” is all you can squeak out, “yes, please.”
If Eddie was being honest, he was a few half-thrusts into your thigh short of coming in his own pants from how hot you looked. Your eyes glassed over, pretty lips parted and gasping his name, perfect cunt sucking his fingers in. 
The hand not occupied by your gushing cunt slid up to cup the side of your cheek, forcing you to look into his fiery eyes. “Feel’s good?” he questions, knowing the answer and not expecting a verbal response.
He drags the pad of his thumb up to your parted lips, running it along your plush bottom lip and dragging it down a bit, relishing in how under his spell you were. His thumb slips into your mouth and you immediately wrap your lips around it and suck. 
“Good girl,” his thumb on your clit is rubbing more focused circles, “suck on that and keep your voice down, don’t want the whole bar knowing what a good little slut you are for me.”
Jackpot. 
A muffled moan around his thumb and the spasming of your inner walls signaled that you were hitting your peak. He drags the spit slicked digit from your lips and quickly replaces it with his lips and tongue, kissing you with fervor as he feels you ride out your orgasm on his hand. 
“Mmmmmmm” you moan, somewhere between a pleading whine and a sigh of satisfaction into his lips as his fingers don’t let up. 
Under different circumstances you would tell him to slow down, give you a minute to catch your breath. Eddie was stubborn, this you knew, and he had already made it abundantly clear that one orgasm wasn’t going to be enough. 
He pulls back from your lips, loving the sharp intake of breath you swallow as your cheeks continue to flush and eyelids keep fluttering. 
“So fucking good, came all over my fingers,” his gaze locks in on where his hand was buried into your cunt. “Gonna give me one more?”
Of course you would, whether it was up to you or not. He did slow up for a second, just enough for you to regain your grip on reality before he started curling them up again. 
“Eddie,” you whine out, eyes nearly crossed and unable to focus your attention on his face, hands, anything other than his boner poking into your inner thigh, “wanna feel you.”
The hand formerly gripped tight onto the edge of the counter snakes forward and pulls his hip into you, a permanent indentation of his stiff cock molding against your skin. 
“Not yet baby,” he rolls his hips forward, giving you a delicious feel of how it would be if he was inside you, but instead pushing his fingers a touch deeper and then pulling his hips away, “one more and then I’ll take you home. You’re gonna let me ruin that perfect little cunt, right? That was the deal?”
“Yes,” you gasp out, his other hand moving from your hair down to rub fast tight circles on your clit, the other hand still pumping steadily inside you.
“That’s right, I know this pussy is gonna take me so well. You’re already drooling for my cock, so fucking perfect.”
You feel it building up again, that sacred double orgasm that only ever came during your alone time in the shower or when you were so desperate for release that your hand didn’t stop after the first, but never with another person, never like this. 
His smile nearly touched his ears at this point, pulling back to take in all of you as your eyes screwed shut and thighs threatened to break his wrist at how fast they snapped together. 
Hitting you like a punch to the gut, your abdomen tightened and released rapidly, air sucked from your lungs and his hand working you through it between your clenched thighs. 
Yeah, maybe this was a bad idea. 
If you were in a cartoon, stars and chirping birds would be swirling around your head as you slowly came back to reality. He gave you some space, and begrudgingly gave you pack your panties after you hand out your hand and gave him a stern look.
“I’m gonna go tell the others that you aren’t feeling great and I’m taking you home,” he makes sure you’ve pulled your pants back up before unlocking the door, “Take your time, and I’ll meet you at the van, okay? I’ll grab your stuff.”
“Yeah,” you still feel a little flustered, looking back into the mirror and smoothing down your hair, “thanks.”
He shoots you a wink before slipping out, giving you a moment to collect yourself and splash some cold water on your face. Okay, so you’re doing this. 
Any nagging feelings that this might ruin things or that he’s only teasing you because of your arrangement are quickly squished down into a deeper compartment of your brain, overtaken by the post orgasm bliss and wandering thoughts of what might happen next. 
You peek your head out of the bathroom door, and slink your way to the back door without passing your group table or a stray Steve or Robin. The fresh air equalizes your buzzing thoughts, and you spot Eddie, already in the driver’s seat of his van. 
“You good?” He asks as you hop into the passenger seat. You won’t let him have the upper hand, just because he made you come twice in under ten minutes. 
“Yeah,” you gather as much assertion as your voice will project, “You good?”
“F’course,” he starts backing up, you internally roll your eyes at the way his outstretched arm muscles and curved neck make your stomach flutter, “Just wanted to make sure I passed the test.”
You sit in silence, not wanting to give into the cocky game he clearly wants to play, yet know that he’s entirely correct in his assumption that he’s driven you completely crazy. Once he’s on the main stretch of road, finally rolling to a stop at a red light you let your hand migrate across the center console, dancing its way into his lap. 
As you hoped, his cock was still half hard and apparent underneath his jeans. You let your hand draw circles next to it, loving the little twitch you get when you run your nails against his thigh. 
“Easy there, tiger,” he lets out a huffed laugh, with just an edge to his tone that suggested you were getting yourself into something you’d soon regret. 
“C’mon Eds,” you let your head fall on the corner of the headrest, gaze angled over at his tight grip on the steering wheel while your hand dancing around the bulge in his pants, “you’ve been pushing this thing against my thigh for the past twenty minutes, forgive me for wanting a better feel.”
You put on a pretend pouty face and flash him your best puppy dog eyes to ward off any incoming snippy comments from him. He rolls his pretty eyes at you and silently bites the inside of his cheek as you feel up and down his lap, grazing his growing cock with each pass. 
“Forgiven,” through gritted teeth, he squeezes his eyes shut as your fingers circle around his head, now taking visible form beneath his black jeans. He internally reprimands himself for losing focus on the road, and zeroes his concentration on getting back to his trailer as fast as this van can take him. 
You have your fun watching him wiggle in his seat, feeling his thigh muscles clench under your palm every so often. You weren’t full on jerking him off over his pants, but you were certainly relishing in the feeling of his dick getting harder and harder with each occasional pass of your hand.
He parks diagonally across the lawn in front of his trailer, not giving a shit where the van ends up as long as it’s stopped. He wanted to dash around the vehicle and scoop you out of your seat, throw you over his shoulder and take you inside to continue with whatever this evening had in store for you.
The second his hand stalled on the clutch, shifting the van into park and taking a moment to let his mind wander to what would happen once he got you inside, you were already halfway out the van and skipping up the steps to his front door. 
Entering his trailer, you start taking off your coat and shoes, trying to act as normal as possible. Your facade of keeping it cool entirely shatters when he enters behind you, calmly clicking the door shut and patiently waiting for you to finish unlacing your boots.
You remain crouched down, darting your eyes up at him, deciding against being a brat and undoing your laces as slowly as possible to keep him waiting. Any caution you had was long swept away by the wind, and he’d taken control in your little bathroom tryst, so it was your turn to say fuck it and just do what felt right. 
And in this moment, there was only a few quick movements and about six inches of space between you and Eddie’s semi-hard dick. One shoe was only half off, haphazardly kicked behind you as you pivoted onto your knees and had your hands moving eagerly up his tensing thighs.
“Can I?” Your question was half formed and he was already nodding. 
You’d teased him enough on the ride over, you wanted him, now. Pants quickly unbuttoned and blue checkered boxers pushed down to his knees, and you were about to go feral and just go for it when a silver glimmer adorning his thick cock caught your eye.
Your mouth was already half open, but your jaw nearly unhinged and hit the floor when the pierced head of his dick falls out of his boxers and lands at your eye level. 
Unmoving, mouth agape, you look up to make eye contact, ripping your eyes away from the shock of two silver balls on his cockhead. He knew it was nice, he wouldn’t have bedazzled it if it wasn’t, but the look you were giving him sucked all the unwavering confidence from his body for a split second, suddenly feeling weak in the knees at the sight of you slowly sicking your tongue out, not making any contact but waiting. 
He took the base of his dick in his hand and gave it a few precautionary strokes before angling it down and slapping your wet tongue with the tip a few times. 
You were two and a half seconds away from being entirely fucked out. If he pulled away and asked you to crawl on all fours to him, you’d do it without a second thought.
You let him slide his cock gently against your outstretched tongue a few times before coming to your senses and wrapping your lips around him, moving your hand to replace his and move against the length that your mouth couldn’t yet reach. 
All it took was a few steady bobs of your head, hand twisting and eyes still focused upwards on his face, to have him biting his knuckle and looking up at the ceiling to ground himself to try and not bust on the spot. You love this, of course, seeing him visibly spiral paired with the salty taste of precum already leaking from him. 
The hand not jerking him off comes up to the back of his hip, gently pushing against him in tandem with the movements of your head, encouraging him to shallowly thrust into your mouth.
“Jesus fu-“ he grunts out, not wanting to overestimate your encouragement, but unable to keep his hips from rolling forward slightly with the push of your hands and the bob of your lips. 
After an unexpected snap of his hips that sent his cock sliding into the back of your throat, making you gag slightly, a pang of guilt struck through him for pushing too hard. That was, until you let your head pull back a touch to catch your breath, but a long string of spit connected your lips to his cock, and a wild smile broke across your face that nearly sent him to the moon. 
You dove back in and pushed his cock all the way into the back of your throat, going so far that your nose pressed into the patch of dark curls that sat above his perfect dick. Focusing your breathing through your nose, you make a point to constrict your throat a few times until you feel him twitch inside you.
Pulling off with a gasp for air, you notice his eyebrows pinched together and gaze locked on you. 
“I like how these feel,” you comment, letting your pointed tongue dance around the metal balls on his tip.
He shudders and you clench your thighs at the sight of his stomach muscles tensing up when your tongue makes contact with the underside of his head, right where it meets the shaft. 
“If I let you fuck my mouth until you come, are you still going to be able to give it to me in a bit, or are you a one and done kind of guy?” You ask with a playfully teasing tone, but genuinely want to know if you suck him off to completion if the night will be over or not. 
“Fuck,” he spits out, more blood rushing to his cock at the idea of coming down your throat, “I’d fuck you all night if you’d let me babe.”
Half a second doesn’t pass before his cock is back in your mouth, hips shakily moving forward with your movements, gaining confidence as you flicker your eyes up at him through your lashes, the glimmer in them telling him he can take what he wants. 
“Fuckin’ look at you,” he comments to himself, “takin’ it all.” 
“Mhmmm,” you hum around him letting your tongue roll around his tip each time before he pushes his cock back down your throat. 
“You think you can get away with teasing me like that? That shit you pulled in the van back there, you think it’s cute to try and get me all riled up?”
You nod, tongue out and saliva coating your lips and chin. You could tell he was close by the way his words came out staggered, and his hips started snapping towards you in a new tempo, like his body was chasing it. 
Grunts and moans pulled from his chest fill the space mixed with the hums of satisfaction you let out while you take him deeper and faster. Moving in for the kill, you carefully slip your hand up in between his legs, cupping his balls, trying your best not to startle him. 
“Oh fuck,” it was a pitch of his voice you’d never heard before, a new tone especially reserved for the moments before orgasm, “you’re gonna make me fuckin come, y/n, y/n, I’m…”
The feeling of his balls constricting in your hands cues the warm wash of come sputtering down into your throat.
Getting the feeling he’d appreciate a bit of a show, you continue to jerk him off and pull off his cock slightly, letting the tip balance onto the tip of your tongue and the rest of his load spills out into your open mouth, some landing around the corners and onto your lips. 
“Christ, y/n,” his chest is heaving, his eyes finally pulling from you to squeeze shut for a moment. 
Once you’re sure he’s looking at you again you swallow down the salty white substance and lick the excess off your lips. You take his head back into your mouth, sucking just enough to clean off the tip and lap up any stray drops. He’s sensitive, you can tell, so you stop torturing him and place a final kiss right in between the two metal balls. 
You thought of asking him if the piercing hurt, or maybe make a comment about the two matching tattoos on his hipbones, ink of his you’d never seen until now. Before your brain can jump from swallowing his come to making post-nut chit chat, he’s yanking you up off your feet and wrapping you in a searingly passionate kiss. 
In your past experience most guys wanted you to drink some water or brush your teeth after they came in your mouth, at least before kissing you. Not Eddie. The way his tongue immediately slipped into your mouth, you almost believed he was trying to get a taste for himself. 
“C’mon,” he whispers in between slotting his lips with your, “Bedroom. Now.” 
He takes your hips in his hands and spins you around, causing a surprised yelp to bubble up from you, making him chuckle behind you as he walks you down the hall, keeping his hands on your sides. 
You knew where you were going, there were only so many doors in his tiny trailer, and you’d been here plenty of times before, but you liked the feeling of his hands pushing you forward, guiding your movements and steering you down the hallway into his room. 
Before your knees can hit the bed he spins you back around and captures your lips in another heated kiss. His hands trail up your sides, letting his fingertips slide beneath the hem of your shirt and push it upwards until your ribs were exposed. He pulls away from your face, leaving you leaning back into him, not wanting the kiss to end. 
“Up,” he pinches the sides of your shirt in his hands, and signals with his chin that he wants you to lift your arms, which you comply. 
It slides up and off of you, his hands quickly darting back to unclasp your bra, seemingly without even trying. This makes you roll your eyes, but the realization that you’re bare before him eclipses the thought of making a snippy remark about what a man whore he is. 
Flat palms caress your sides and move up to cup your breasts, his tongue pressing into the side of your neck. 
“These too,” his thumbs dip into your pants, managing to wiggle under the waistband of your panties as well. You’re going to do it yourself, but he gently pushes you back onto the bed, letting you flip back into the unmade blankets. 
“I wanna see you,” he pops your pants button and waits for a nod before sliding your pants and underwear down your legs. 
In between the blowjob and now, he’d tucked himself back into his pants, pulling his boxers and jeans back up, still unbuttoned, but covering him back up as his cock returned to a half hard state, unlikely to stay that way for very long considering how things were going. 
The scene of you now sprawled out onto his bed, naked and needy for him, and him standing above you, basically fully clothed, had a flood of lust traveling south between your thighs.
“So fuckin’ gorgeous,” you burned under his intense gaze, raking down your body and soaking in the image of your skin laid out against his flannel plaid sheets. 
He crawls over you, letting his body melt into yours, the center seam of his jeans pressing against your soaking core, just as it had when he had you pressed up against the door of the bar bathroom.
Rocking gently against you, you feel his cock already starting to harden again. His tongue moves against your neck, hands roaming freely against your skin, arching into his touch. 
His breath was heavy against your lips, he was already starting to lose himself, and he knew he wanted to make you come with his tongue at least once before his dick came back out, but it was already pulsing between his legs, growing rock solid with every little whimper that came past your lips. 
Your fingers intertwined themselves into the tresses of his long, messy hair. You use your new grip to pull his face as close into yours as your bodies will allow, smushing his nose up against your cheek and foreheads plastered together. The weight of his body on yours, and the lovely rocking motion of his hips against yours stopped as he pulled away and hooked his arms under your knees. 
He slides off the side of the bed, feet returning to the carpeted ground and yanking your body to the edge of the mattress. You let out an unexpected giggle, body limp like a rag doll, moving wherever he wanted you. 
He leans back over to give you another deep kiss, teeth dragging against your lower lip and tongue sliding gracefully against yours, before he slides his mouth down, stopping to lap up at your nipples for a moment, not letting any part of your skin go untouched as he takes his time moving down to where you want him most. 
Wiggling around on his mattress, your body is begging him to get on with it, but he loves to make you squirm. He takes his time licking up your hip bones, kissing from the innermost part of your thigh all the way down to your knee, and then back up the other side. He even takes a long moment to suck a dark purple bruise into the meat of your thigh, biting down on the flesh and licking over the skin to soothe it, noticing how your back arched a little when he bit down harder. 
“Please Eddie,” your voice is hardly above a whisper, whimpering and whiny.
“All you had to do was ask nicely,” he has that too-cocky tone again, but it’s long forgotten once his tongue is buried in between your thighs, lapping up the excess of wetness already pooled there.
“Ohhh,” you let out a moan, sucking in a sharp breath and allowing your body to relax under his focused touch. 
His hands push up from your ass to the crooks of your knees, moving your legs back to either side of you, strong palms finding their resting place on the backs of your thighs, keeping your legs spread wide open for him while he buries his face deep in your cunt. 
“You-“ the start of a compliment, or maybe a request, escapes your lips but the sudden harsh suck of your clit into his mouth has you speechless and moaning, “Mhmmmmm, uhhhhhhh.”
The sloppy wet sounds of him making out with your pussy are enough to drive you wild, your hands originally balling his sheets in your fists quickly move to the top of his head, resting atop his mop of messy curls. 
“Y’can give it a tug,” the first half of his statement spoken directly into your pussy, “I don’t mind a little pain.” He shoots you a wink and keeps his eyes locked on you as he lets his tongue lap a fat long lick up your slit, and then leaning back down to encourage you to tangle your hands into his hair. 
Coming to either side of his head you grab two points of purchase, locking your fingers in at the roots and feeling him hum into your cunt when you grabbed it a little tighter. 
Your hips start to quiver, so he brings one hand from your thigh up to your lower stomach, pinning you against the bed, and still keeping you spread open with the other. 
Working a steady rhythm against your slick center with his lips and tongue, he can tell he’s found the spot you like most by your open mouth and tight eyebrows.
“Ohmygod,” your chest starts moving with heavy breaths, you can’t bear to keep yourself up any longer and flop back down flat onto the mattress, eyes screwing shut in pleasure. He lets go of his anchor on your tummy and returns his hands to your thighs, allowing your hips to wiggle and wriggle against his face to chase after your own pleasure. 
“Pleasepleaseplease,” one glimpse of his big brown eyes looking up at you and his nose pressing deliciously into the spot above your clit has your head reeling, “please don’t stop, fuck.”
Rather than reply, he just continues to devour you at that steady pace, your thighs almost snapping shut around his head . 
“Uh huh, right there, oh fuck Eddie I’m gonna-“ 
A strangled moan rips from your throat and your back arches off the mattress, his hands quickly come to wrap around your thighs and keep your center held closely against his face. He’s pulling your hips flush with his face, despite your spasming torso and gushing core. 
As your orgasm peaks, your hips angle themselves to push up deeper into his face, and he uses his leverage against the backs of your thighs to lift your ass, the entire lower half of your body now off the mattress and sliding backwards as he keeps his moving tongue glued to your clit. 
He climbs up onto the mattress as you slide back, the grip he had on your legs was sure to leave a sore memory of him unwilling to let your coming pussy away from his face. 
When he finally pulls away, your hand pushing at his forehead to prevent overstimulation, both of you gasping for air, his knees are propped under your thighs, and your hips are propped up right at perfect level with the bulge in his pants. 
“Fuck me,” you say through catching your breath, not as an expletive but rather a demand, “Eddie, I need you to fuck me,” your voice was whiny and desperate. 
“This okay?” he starts pulling his dick from its constraints in his unbuttoned jeans, not even shoving them halfway down his thighs before he had that pretty pierced dip dragging through your open and ready folds. 
“Yes, inside, please,” you were chasing after his length, while he tossed his shirt off. He teasingly ran it up and down your slit before sinking into you, collapsing down to press your lips into a kiss to swallow your moans as he slid the whole thing in slowly, making sure to take his time and fuck you right. 
He grabbed the back of your neck and pressed his forehead to yours, finally sheathed all the way inside you and stilling for a moment to relish in the feeling. Pulling back so he can watch your face as he pumps his first few thrusts, he knows he’s beyond fucked. 
“So fucking good,” you slur out, eyes almost crossing from how deep his cock was hitting your insides.
“Yeah? This pussy’s god damn perfect, fucking made for me,” he articulates each thought with a snap of his hips, “suckin’ me right in.” 
“Wait, can we,” your voice had a little more weight behind it unlike the airy moans he’d grown obsessed with in the past forty minutes.
He pulls back, and rather than finish your thought you slip him out of you and roll over, shuffling up the bed and positioning yourself face down ass up, knees spread and back arched. 
“You think you can handle it?” he asks jokingly, swatting your ass playfully and then landing a second, harder smack on the flesh when he notices you pussy clench around nothing at the sensation of him spanking you. 
“Want you to fuck me hard,” you mumble into his pillow, wiggling your hips a little bit to jiggle the fat of your ass, “I know your cock is gonna feel so fucking good in me this way, wanna feel that fucking piercing back in my throat from the other direction.”
“Jesus Christ, y/n,” he was genuinely a little shocked at your words, slowly learning that your freak side might match his. 
You expected to feel his cock slam into you once his hands came to spread your ass apart, but instead the mattress dipped and he was licking another fat stripe from your clit all the way up past your second hole, running this back a few times until you were moaning into the pillow and thighs were tensed up from the attention he was giving you.
“Sorry babe, just needed another taste,” he pushed the head of his dick into you, and moved the first few inches agonizingly slow into your soaked hole. 
“Eddie please, need it, need you,” he loved that his sheets were balled up in your fists, using the tension of the material to bounce yourself back onto him. You only manage to slide back down about three quarters before he’s tightly gripping your hip and pulling out half way again. 
“Tsk tsk tsk, you need to learn to be patient, pretty girl,” he’d thrust it an inch of so, and then slowly pull back, making you whine and start to feel tears bubble up in the corners of your eyes. 
“Want it so bad,” your cheek laid flat against his pillow, and you could catch a glimpse of him behind you out of the corner of your eye if you craned your neck a bit. You sounded so desperate, but you knew he liked it, liked hearing how badly you craved him. 
He starts moving in and out of you, firm grip on your ass never wavering. Restrained grunts left his mouth as he fucked into you, causing your eyes to practically roll into the back of your head. He leans down to place a soft kiss on your shoulder blade, despite how viciously he's pounding into you. His head cranes down to your shoulder, his hand coming up to brush your hair out of your face. 
As his long fingers move your hair away from your eyes, you push your head back into his hand, not wanting to lose contact. He tentatively runs his hands up into your hair, taking a soft grip on your roots.
“Is this what you want?” he whispers, “you like it rough?”
“Yes,” you manage to squeak out, “fuck, pull my hair, spank me, do whatever the fuck you want to me, please.”
His vision practically goes black with this new unrestricted passion, allowing himself to thrust into you as hard and as deep as his hips would propel him, twisting your hair in his grip and pulling you up from your laid position, quickly letting your hands jump to his headboard to support you as your head was pulled back. 
You tried to bounce back onto his cock, wanting to feel him as deeply and wholly as your bodies would allow, but you could hardly keep up with the pace he had set. 
Your ass bouncing against him and the occasional glance he caught at your fucked out expression spurred him on to fuck you even harder. He had your hair pulled back so tight that your back was pressing flush up with his chest every so often, and he took the opportunity to snake an arm around you and hold your chest up flat, his other hand moving down to rub frantic circles on your clit.
“You’re gonna make me come like this,” you manage to croak out, voice hoarse from the harsh bend in your neck. 
“Nuh uhh, no,” his voice was gruff and commanding, right into your ear and sent a shiver down your spine. 
He pulled out of you fully, and had you flipped around flat on your back again before you could even open your mouth to complain. 
“Need to see that pretty face when you come on my cock,” he lines himself up with you again, pushing into you and making a mental note of how the bulge of his cock looked pressing up from the inner part of your lower stomach. 
And of course, your face screwed up in pleasure, puffy lips and sweaty brow, slack jawed and panting his name would be something Eddie wouldn’t be able to forget even if he tried.
His thumb found its way to your clit to pick up where he had last left you, steadily building to an earth shattering orgasm. Talking you through it, knowing you were close by the vice grip your walls had on his dick, in between grunts he spilled out some “good girl”’s and “right fuckin there, that’s it.” 
When he felt your thighs tense up, and the muscles in your neck strain against the soft skin he’d previously had his lips all over, he knew you were nearing the finish line. 
“So fucking perfect, feel so good wrapped around me,” he managed to sweet talk you without altering the pace of his hips, “That’s it, come on my cock, give it to me.”
With that, your body can’t help but throw itself over the edge of pleasure. A deep grunt rattles in your chest, and you lose all sensation other than the wild pulsing in between your legs. You can’t be bothered to worry about what your face looks like, or if your thighs are squeezing him too hard, you only feel the riptide of an orgasm shattering through you. 
The animalistic noise that Eddie grunts out, his wild gaze locked on your face only makes your body shake with pleasure even harder. He had that instinct that most men lacked, to keep the exact pace and motion when your orgasm hit rather than speed up or slow down, it was a gift, a talent. 
Of course he wasn’t going to change a thing about what he was doing, look at you. You were so fucking perfect, shaking and coming all over him, those sweet noises and the beautiful squelching between your thighs. He’d rather die than change a single thing about this moment. 
He stilled only when you paused to catch your breath, and within seconds was flipped over by the power of your thighs onto his back.
Unexpectedly, you began to ride him, trying to match the pace he had earlier set. The aftershocks of your orgasm still washed through you, but you seized the moment to get him right where you wanted him. This angle was different, deeper and more connected. You roll your hips and bring your hands up to his hair, foreheads pressing together once again. 
“You’re making me feel so fucking good,” you manage to breathe out into his lips, he quickly comes to the realization of what’s happened and shifts the angle of his hips to hit you even deeper. 
“I’d give you everything, if you’d let me,” he doesn’t let a single thought pass in his mind before the words slip out, “always.”
Your lips capture his in a kiss that has far more emotion behind it than two friends play-dating and fucking for fun. His hands come up to grasp your cheeks, your hips continue to roll down into his with purpose. 
“I’m- Where-“ his words are hardly intelligible in between breathless kisses, but you know what he means. 
“Inside, please, need all of you inside me,” you try to keep your voice steady so he hears you loud and clear, wanting to give him the exact attention he had paid to you, “Please Eddie, come inside me.”
His hands travel down and guide your hips to fuck down onto him one, two, three times before he’s groaning in your ear and letting out the prettiest and most vulnerable sounds you’ve ever heard form him. 
The swell of his cock inside you makes you drape your head into his neck, focusing on riding out his orgasm and making sure he was twitching in the aftershocks of his orgasm before you let up. 
When you felt his grip on your hips tighten, signaling that he’d had too much, you sink all the way down one final time and let your body lay limp on his, pulsing cock still filling you up. 
His chest rose and fell harshly with his recovering breaths. You could feel his heartbeat pulsing up through the spot on his neck where your ear laid on his sweaty skin.
Silently awaiting the inevitable tap on the shoulder, the slow pull out and post-sex cleanup process, you try to savor every passing moment. But it doesn’t come. Eddie wraps his arms around your midsection and holds your limp body close to his, letting his cock start to soften inside you. 
You nearly fall asleep like that, all wrapped up in him, until you recognize that you should pee and clean up to avoid a UTI. You slip off of him, and hear a disappointed groan from him. He makes cute grabby hands at you as you cross the room, making you roll your eyes, but something deep inside you flip flops with how sweet he’s being, so caring, so unlike the picture of himself that he had painted for you. 
You give him a wet hand towel to clean up the remnants of your activities, and slip back into bed with him per his insistence. You doze off for a while, until the rising sun peeking through his blinds catches your eye, striking you with the sudden decision to stay and face the music or leave and let it settle. 
You’d already regretted it, but weren’t ready to have the “hey, so I know we had fake boyfriend-girlfriend sex, but I actually really like you so what should we do about that?” conversion with him, so instead you take the cowardly path and tiptoe out of his room in the early morning hours, leaving behind your underwear on his nightside table with a scribbled note saying to call you. Hopefully that was enough of a signal. 
Apparently not,
Days pass, and no call. 
It was all starting to get to your head. While you had gone through the stages of being nervous that you had done something wrong, that he was avoiding you to spare you the rejection, thinking he regretted what had happened and didn’t want to face you, who was so obviously into him it was painful, you’d just now turned a new leaf. Fuck that. If he was too much of a coward to call you, you'd hope he'd at least give you the decency as a friend to tell you the truth, you deserved to be angry, and you deserved a response. 
After stewing in your feelings for longer than felt healthy, you just get in your car and start driving to his trailer. If this all blew up in your face at least you wouldn’t have to keep biting your nails and waiting for the phone to ring. 
Three deep breaths, and a quick moment to gather your thoughts, and suddenly your body acted on instinct, putting the car in park and walking up to pound three concise knocks on his trailer door. 
“Just a second,” he hollered from inside, giving you a few seconds to be stricken with regret for showing up unannounced without a plan on what exactly to say. 
“What do you- oh, y/n,” he was in a pair of plaid pajama pants that hung low on his hips, shirtless and hair still damp from a recent shower, “uh, hey?”
“Oh, hey,” your tone was laced with annoyance, “I left something here last week and I’m here to get it back. If you don’t mind.”
“What- oh,” he’s a second too slow to realize you mean the underwear you had purposefully left behind with that note. The note telling him to call you. Which he never did. 
You were left standing on his porch steps, arms crossed and shooting daggers out of your eyes while he stood there in the doorway, an apparent guilty expression plastered on his face while he rocked back on his heels to buy some time to figure out what to say. 
“You don’t have to invite me inside, if you can just grab them and give them to me, and I’ll be out of your hair,” you say flatly, recognizing if he does as asked then this might be the last time you speak to Eddie Munson. 
“No, no, uh, you should come in,” he steps aside to let you in, “we probably shouldn’t have this conversation on my front steps.”
Avoiding eye contact, feeling an overwhelming mix of anger, confusion, and betrayal, you step inside and don’t make any effort to move into the space. You just stand by the door and give him an expectant look. Either he could go get the underwear, or he could grow a pair and say something to you. 
“I, uh-“ he looked so defeated you started to feel bad for using such a pointed tone, but then you remembered the days and days that passed without hearing from him, “I’m sorry, that I, y’know…”
“Yeah, well I don’t really care if you’re not looking for any post sex recap conversations, because you’re obviously pretty sure of yourself in that department,” the words flew out before your mind could even conjure them up, “but you fucking promised me that you wouldn’t do this, so can I please just have my underwear back and I won’t bother you again.”
He runs a hand through his hair letting out a deep exhale and searching the ceiling for words, “I know, I-“
You cut him off, your thoughts were ripping through you now and you were going to say your piece whether he asked for it or not, “You said you wouldn’t pull this shit with me, but I guess our friendship isn’t substantial enough for you to see me any differently than you do every other girl you throw away after you’ve gotten what you want. You clearly don’t want any more advice and you clearly don’t want to be my friend, so please, just give me my shit so I can go.”
“That’s the fucking thing y/n, of course I don’t want to be your friend,” his gaze still fixed on the ceiling.
At this point you were seconds away from just storming out, letting him keep your underwear as some twisted little trophy for breaking your heart. 
“Yeah, crystal clear Eddie.”
“Being your friend is already hard enough, and I knew this shit was a bad idea, the whole trial-girlfriend thing. But how the fuck was I supposed to say no to that? The girl of my dreams offers to do all this no-strings-attached romantic shit, I’d be the dumbest man alive to turn that down.”
You just give him a blank stare, your scalding anger twisting into a more confused frenzy of bees swarming in the pit of your stomach. Eyebrows pinched together, you just stare at him until he finally makes eye contact with you. 
“And yeah,” he goes on, letting all his words out like a big exhale in the same cadence that you had just hurled all your angry words at his, but his tone was filled with guilt as opposed to rage, “maybe we let it go a little too far, but I would never say no to you, I couldn’t. I’m sorry I didn’t know what the fuck to say to you after, but that’s exactly the reason I’m not good enough for you. The more we kept that fake dating shit up the worse it was gonna get, so I’m sorry, but I can’t keep spending time with you like that, because it’s starting to fucking hurt.”
“Hurt,” you say with a dry laugh, which almost scares him, “YOU’RE hurt? Give me a fucking break Eddie. I know you don’t see me that way. So what, you’re too scared to hurt my feelings? You’re doing a wonderful job, keep it up.”
“What the fuck do you mean, not see you like what?”
“Don’t pretend to be dumb Eddie. When we first met I tried so hard to get your attention, asking you to hang out, and you always blew me off. It’s fine that you don’t want to date me or whatever, but at least just tell me that, don’t fuck me like I’m special or something and then toss me aside. I deserve better than that.”
“Yeah, y/n, you do,” his voice was no longer guilt stricken, and was on the same straightforward plane as your last responses, “you deserve so much fucking better than me, that’s why I could never let anything between us happen. I don’t call girls back. I’m rude. I don’t take care of myself, let alone others. I like to smoke, and drink, and get head from girls in bar bathrooms and never learn their names, and that’s not the kind of person that a girl like you dates. I’m a fun quick fuck. You’re the kind of girl that after three dates he’ll already have a ring picked out. You’re everything, and I’m nothing, so forgive me for sparing you of that.”
Your bones are frozen and the beat of silence gives him the opportunity to spin on his heel and start down the hallway, presumably to get your panties. 
Snapping back into it, you let out a louder than expected, “Hey,” and you start following him, not taking long to catch up to him in his bedroom. 
“You,” you point a finger at him, and start to feel the rage bubble up again, “don’t get to decide that you’re unloveable. And you don’t get to tell me what kind of girl I am. Have you ever considered that maybe the reason you’re so lonely and miserable is because you choose to be? You don’t get to decide what I deserve, I do. And I really fucking like you Eddie, so forgive me for acting like it.” 
You snatch your underwear off his bedside table, and give him a look, not fueled by anger or resentment, but empathy. 
“I’m going to leave. And if you don’t want to see me again, that’s fine, but if you do, you can call me. Goodbye Eddie.”
You feel out of your own body, floating above it all and rewinding the conversation over and over, body on autopilot taking you home while your soul stayed behind and relived his words over and over, unsure if you feel better or worse than when you showed up. 
Days pass by again, and you take his silence as more of a response than anything he had said to you during that conversation. You try not to wallow, but you feel scattered and distraught, at both the prospect of losing Eddie and having to deal with your shared friends, would they allow you to dance around each other, or would they flat out choose him and shut you out? Would group nights out bowling suddenly just turn into the occasional one-on-one coffee with Robin? 
Until suddenly, on a random Tuesday afternoon when you've gotten home from work and are relaxing on the couch in your pajamas, three knocks are at your door.
At this point you figured it was over. He hadn't called and he'd made no effort to continue the dialogue. So a thought of Eddie doesn't even cross your mind in between the couch and opening the door.
And there he is.
In a suit, slightly descheveld in Eddie fashion, and holding a slightly wilting bouquet of flowers. Posture straight and brave face, but expecting your brutal edge upon answering the door nonetheless.
"Hey?" you're somewhat at a loss for words answering.
"Hi," he seems like he's running lines of a play in his mind, "I was hoping we could talk."
You reluctantly let him in, and he hands the flowers to you, as if it was a normal occurrence for him to bring you such a gift.
"First off," he starts, hardly breaching your living room entrance before starting his apology, "I regret the way we last left things, and I'm sorry for leaving you waiting for a response."
He flicks those big brown eyes at you and you can't help but give him the benefit of the doubt, he always was so sincere with his words.
"You're amazing. And although I'll remain adamant that I don't deserve someone like you in my life, I've been thinking a lot about what you said, and I'm sorry that tried to tell you how to feel."
You remain stoic at your seat on the couch, watching him shift his weight and bare his soul to you.
"You're perfect. Nice, funny, sexy, brave, all of it. And if you're willing to give me a chance, I don't know why the fuck you would, but if you are, I want to put aside all my bullshit and try this out, if you'll have me."
He stood there for a moment, letting you take in his request, bouquet in hand and suit adorned.
"And I owe you a few dates, for real."
As hard as you want your exterior to be, a smile cracks through.
"Okay, but know I don't fuck until the third date, at best," you jab, breaking his nervous exterior and visibly relieving the tension from his shoulders.
"I'm somewhat of a refined gentleman myself, so that won't be an issue," he bows and extends a hand to you.
You pull him down by the hand onto the couch with you, wrapping him up in a deep kiss. He was worth it, and you both knew it was worth the shot to try.
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adams-angels · 2 months
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Can you do one where Adam sees you as a place holder for his wives and doesn’t respect you ever but when you want to leave him he realizes just how much he truly cares about you and then like over course of a period of time (your choice) we forgive him :)
Thank you for listening ❤️
This was a fun one! I love a bit of angst. Can't get enough of the stuff!!
💖 Please send me requests! Send me your own headcanons! I will draw! I'm obsessed rn!💖
Reader POV because I got a similar ask which I'll write as Adams POV
Used
It's all I ever asked for. To be respected. To be loved. It wasn't fair. Why did I have to be alone and wait for him while he was out galavanting around the heavens! How was it fair? He'd only ever sees me for sex. He wouldn't reply to my texts but god fucking forbid I miss one of his texts.
Or in this case ignore. I've had enough. I'm not being second choice anymore! So I texted him "we're done." I know it's cowardly to "break up" via text but it's not even like we were dating! I placed my phone down on my side table. I should of put it on silent. Why didn't I put it on silent.
Curling up on my bed, tears flowing from my eyes as I hear the vibration on my phone. He's either calling or text bombing me. I pick up my phone to see several missed called and about 20 texts already.
You think you're better than me?!
You're nothing!
I'm Adam!! I can get ANYONE I FUCKING WANT
YOU THINK I NEED YOU?!
I sob.
I must of fallen asleep during my crying of self pity. I stretch out my arms as I sit up only to see Adam at the doorway. I scream in surprise, falling off my bed hitting my phone off the nightstand in the process. "Adam?! What the hell are you doing in my apartment?!" I yell at him.
He stands there, looming over me. "You want to leave me?" He asked, never had I heard him so emotionless. I tut as I stand up. "You say that like you cared." I retort, picking my phone up from the floor. "Don't look at that." He took a step towards me, reaching out but I pulled away. "Why? You next me nasty shit? Telling me I'm worthless? That I was lucky to -" he interrupted, "y/n, I'm sorry. I just want to know what I did wrong."
I can't help but sigh, collapsing on my bed, hair covering my face. "I just... I can't... I don't want to be a place holder for you." I can hear Adam moving closer, his wings dragging across the floor. "What are you talking about?" One of his hands land on mine. "I don't want to be someone you just use until you find someone better." His fingers interlace with mine as his other hand brushes my hair from my face revealing my teary eyes. "I just want to be... I don't know, Adam."
His hand cups my face and I just can't help but melt into his touch. "Be mine?" I shrug in response. Clearing his throat he clarifies, "no, I'm asking. Be mine." I can't help but look at him like an idiot, my heart skipping a beat. "What?" He recoiled. "I mean, maybe we could start again? Like.. properly?"
"You mean like.. date? What happened to "I don't date. I'm the first man. I have the first penis ever bla bla!"" He stares at me with a blank expression. "I don't sound like that." "You do." Adam brow furrows in what I can only assume is annoyance. "Whatever, y/n, please. I can't lose you. I don't want to lose you. Please don't leave me." Never have I seen him look so weak. So... Small? "I'll have to think about it." I can't tell if he feels relieved or worried. Maybe both. "H-how long will that take?" He asked with a hint of desperation.
"I don't know, Adam." I shrug. My words hung in the air. "I really care about you, y/n. You have to believe me, babe." He kissed my hand before releasing it. "Just.. uh... Delete those texts. I didn't mean any of it." I watch as he leaves my apartment. No through the door of course, no, he always had to leave from the balcony. I usually watch as he flies away. But not this time..
It's been about a month since I last spoke to Adam. I've seen him about. Doing his thing. It makes me laugh. When ever he notices me he freezes up. Just last week he was talking to Sera and as soon as he noticed me walk past he just stared. I swear I heard Sera say "earth to Adam."
Today I decided. I head towards his office, walking past several anxious angles. I heard yelling come from inside his office and then something smash. Before I could knock the door swung open and standing before me was a very frustrated Adam. His feathers were literally ruffled. "Y/n?" He was surprised to see me but his expression changed quickly as he remembered in was in the presence of his underlings. "Come in." He stands aside letting you in to his office. It was mess. I mean, I've seen it messy before but this was a whole new level. Documents everywhere, a smashed mug on the floor and coffee stains on the wall. "Bad day?" I commented he grumbled in response. "There are no bad days in heaven."
He slumps down on his chair, watching me as I walk over to his office window, opening it to get some of that heavenly fresh air in. "So... I thought about it." He perks up, sitting straight. "And?"
"and I'm willing to start again. Properly." I don't even get a chance to turn and face him before he's already darted from his chair wrapping me in his arms. "Fuck, thank fucking Christ. Don't do that to me again. Please." His wings surrounded us. "Please, I'm sorry. I'll treat you so much better." "Promise?" "Yes, promise."
~⁠♡✧⁠。 I really hope you enjoyed! I'm not a writer by any means but I appreciate any support I receive so thank you for reading! 。✧⁠♡~⁠
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Text
limiting believes i got rid of AND YOU SHOULD DO TOO in order to manifest instantly
-> time 
before i thought and probably your case too AND I HOPE THAT IT’S NOT ANYMORE  that time had anything to do with the loa, manifesting and stuff. that the fakest shit i’ve ever head. literally all is based off your mind and your assumptions.who tf decided that manifesting a house should take months? when time doesn’t even exist. LIKE TELL ME WHERE TF IS THE LOGIC?  like just sit there and think about it, time was human-made and the law is just the law, so why would you make the time a law? like why tf would you even just consider time ?j just think about an answer.the law isn’t logical itself so why would you even try to make it logical by putting it together with something thats considered logical? just ask yourself. why tf would my penthouse in new york would take months to get to me? whats the answer to that now?
FORGET ABOUT TIME, about deadlines or whatever stop counting days like you were in fucking jail. the only jail you’re in is you’re mind.
 -> worth and  « bigger » or « smaller » manifestations 
nothing has value, you’re the one creating value and putting things on a pedestal. do you know what’s worth more between a 1$ and a 100$ ? if you say the 100$ you really understood nothing did you? it’s as easy to have the 100$ than the 1$ as it’s the same thing to manifest a big fat miami house or a small condo in tokyo and if you think otherwise you haven’t totally let go of those limitings believes yet. why do you think money has so much value? it really is a piece of paper with a print. would you give a piece of paper with a drawing of an old man any value? no. THEN STOP GIVING VALUE TO MONEY OR ANYTHING IN LIFE.you think you could attract a person you don’t care about but not your crush or you desired friends? when those persons are worth the same and as easy to get as the other? the second you consider that everything you want is absolutely worthless and as easy to get as the oxygen you’re breathing right now, you’ll manifest.
the second you’ll pull out this bullshit that we instill in your brain of «  value, worth, bigger things, harder to get, longer to get » you’ll instantly get it. THE SECOND YOU’LL KNOW THESE WORTHLESS THINGS ARE ALREADY YOURS, YOU MANIFESTD IT!
MAINLY STOP PUTTING YOURSELF LIMITS!!!!! you control everything what’s stopping you from getting that penthouse you want so bad?? money? money is worthless and you can get it the amount of money you want so now what do you need more? go get you keys and enjoy it cause you literally already fucking have it. YOU’RE DIVINE how can you manage not to have a  simple piece of paper that has the number «  100 » on it? how can you not get a place made with of wood and rocks and itself filled with more things that are made with wood and rocks ? how do you manage not get the love of a simple girl or boy? THE ANSWER IS YOU DON'T MANAGE NOT TO HAVE IT CAUSE YOU ALREADY DO.
PUT IN YOUR HEAD YOU ALREADY HAVE IT ALL. NOTHING ELSE EXISTS, NOT WORTH, VALUE, TIME, ALL THIS THINGS DOES NOT EXIST SO PLEASE PLEASE GET THOSE BULLSHIT LIMITING ASS HUMAN MADE CONCEPT OUT OF YOUR GENIUS BRAIN AND INSTANTLY GET ALL YOU WANT WITHOUT RESTRICTIONS WHATSOEVER
->3D delay
don’t put in your head that there will be a delay forget about that.focus on the fact that it gets instantly to you and that’s it. do not care about anything else. « oh i don’t have my results yet it'S probably 3D delay😞 » no. you already have it wtf is even a delay? the moment you decided to have it in your 4D you instantly got in your 3D period.
-> self victimising
STOP THIS. stop all the «  it’s not manifesting why?? why everyone but me 🥺» please. you’re worth more than that. persist no matter what.stop slowing down your living in the end process. if you wanna feel sad about a situation, be sad, but don’t even start self-victimising. don’t eat up your feelings it leads to nothing good but always remind yourself that you have the knowledge that ppl out there don’t have access to. people dying or being in the worst situation ever dont even have any way to get out of it cause they don’t know but YOU? YOU KNOW THE TRUTH. YOU KNOW THE LAW. YOU KNOW YOUR LIMITLESS POWER. YOU CAN HAVE YOUR DREAM LIFE SO WHY SELF VICTIMISE? YOU AREADY GOT IT ALLL GIRLLL
btw that’s my first blog i hope it was inspiring🥰 and i dont tell you may all your manifestations come true cause they’re obviously already all true 
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cryptidghostgirl · 2 months
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hii i read your fic with the humanalastor! x reader where they become like partners in crime (i loved it sm)
and got an idea based off of it
what if Alastor dies first and a few years later Alastor and the reader reunite after she goes to the hotel? thought it would be kinda cute :)
A/N ngl I was thinking of doing something like this so I am very happy it is desired by the people as well. Also, we're gonna pretend that the timeline I created wouldn't make her like over a hundred years old when she died, okay? Okay.
Cover Up Pt. 2 (Alastor x Reader)
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Warnings: Mentions of murder and blood, nothing graphic. Alastor being a depressed little bitch. Also a lot of dead bird metaphors for lost hope. Please let me know if I forgot anything.
Word Count: 1,971
Part One: Cover Up (Human!Alastor x Human!Reader)
Master Lists:
Master Lists 
Hazbin Hotel Master List
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When Alastor had died, Y/n had shattered. Their years of holding one another's bloodstained hands had finally drawn to a close. They had a good run, nearly a decade before anyone caught on. His death also came with the added downside of throwing suspicion on Y/n. To say the event changed her life would be an understatement.
When Alastor had first woken up in Hell, he had mourned his loss as if she was the one who had died and not him. The allowance of such a foolish thing was short lived. He quickly realized there was no way Y/n wouldn't end up in Hell as well eventually, with her track record. He refocused his pain, his anguish into making sure he had the perfect world to serve up to her on a platter as soon as she arrived.
As the years ticked on, the little bird fluttering away in his ribcage became more and more despondent. He tried to distract himself by continuing his work, continuing his plans for her. Always for her. It worked to a certain extent but, soon it had been sixty years and she still hadn't made her arrival. It didn't matter how many overlords he killed, how many worthless souls he tortured. There was nothing that could take his mind off that.
Alastor wondered what sort of life Y/n had made for herself after his death. He wondered if she had found love again, held out hope that she hadn't. It was a selfish wish, he knew it. Alastor had always been selfish. It wasn't that he wished for her to be unhappy, just that he knew she was the only person, living or dead, out there for him. There was no hope for Alastor that wasn't Y/n and he wanted her to feel the same way about him. He didn't want to lose, to have been an idiot, to have been the one that loved more. At the same time, he didn't want her to feel that way either. It was complicated and confusing, the twists of his own logic.
Another decade and he began wondering if somehow his beloved wife had gotten into Heaven instead. He knew it was a long shot, after everything she had done but, she had also never killed anyone who didn't deserve it. Maybe there was some exception for women who killed their pursuers, when the pursuers were coming on too intensely or had ulterior motives. He wondered if she'd remarried, if she had kids. If she was still on earth, there would have to be something that was keeping her there and that was the only thing that made sense.
Eighty years, as it turned out, had been all he could take. The bird had died and its corpse had rotted, festering into anger. Not anger at Y/n no, never anger at Y/n but anger at the world, at the system of the afterlife. He became bolder, brasher, more foolish. He got caught in a bad deal.
Coming to the hotel had been a command, yes, but it had also ended up being something of a salvation for the man. In the seven years of his disappearance from the rings of Hell, there had been little to distract him from the growing hole of Y/n's absence. It was a hungry thing, a deep seated want, a controlling desire. The hotel served to fill it. Not completely, but a little. It was better than nothing. Besides, for all her violence, Y/n had always had a way of seeing the best in others, in the world around her. He was certain she would have liked Charlie if she ever got to meet her, certain the hotel would shine in his wife's eyes.
Husk and Nifty were the only two who knew. They had both met him when Alastor's focus had been the creation of a world for Y/n, it was impossible for them not to. They had both noticed how as the years had passed, he had said her name less, how he had become crueler. Not even Charlie had in inkling of an idea that Alastor might be missing something, might be unshakable heartbroken. He hid it well.
Even now as he entered the lobby intent on finding Charlie in order to discuss some of the decor on the upper floors, he made sure his smile was firmly fixed in place. A smile was the strongest weapon a person or demon could have, the strongest disguise. He made sure he was never without one.
"So you just arrived today?" he heard Charlie saying as he began to make his way down the stairs.
He could see her by the door, talking to a demon whom her position obscured from his vision. A new guest. Internally, Alastor sighed. This was throwing a wrench into his plans for the day.
"Yeah I... it's all so confusing here. Wonderful in a way, don't get me wrong but... when I heard about your hotel, it seemed safe."
The unknown demon's voice was soft, it pulled at his heart strings. The corpse of the bird was a puppet at its familiarity. It was a sickening feeling, the dead body of his hope being pulled up and twitched around for another's unknowing amusement. Alastor nearly faltered, hesitating on the last step.
"So are you actually interested in redemption?" Charlie asked, sounding downcast.
"Well, I'm not really sure yet. Is that okay? I mean, I just got here today and... either way, I love the idea of your hotel and I want to help. I could work as a maid? Or I'm a pretty good cook? My husband always said so anyways. I'm sort of trying to find someone too so... What I'm trying to say is that I could work until I've figured it out, if that is alright with you?"
Charlie hummed in thought as Alastor began to cross the room, heading straight for the pair.
"It's a bit unorthodox but, I suppose. We could always use another helping hand."
"Really!?" the stranger exclaimed, "Oh thank you!"
Alastor was over Charlie's shoulder practically now. She shifted on her feet, allowing Alastor to at last see the person she was talking to.
"So, what's your name?"
The demon opened her mouth to speak but, before a word could leave her lips, she was interrupted by a static filled voice. It brought back memories, hurt her heart to hear.
"Y/n."
There was no doubt about it. Even in her new demon form, Alastor knew. It was the curl of her hair, it was the brightness of her eyes, the way she held herself. She looked up at him with wide eyes.
"When did you get here?" Charlie asked in confusion as she turned to the side, turning the pair into a group of three all facing one another, "Also, you know her? Oh my gosh, wait. Are you okay? I don't think I've ever seen you not smiling before."
Neither payed the princess any mind, each absorbed in one another's eyes. Y/n took a sutering half step forwards, her mouth slightly open.
"Alastor?"
It was barley more than a whisper. She took another step towards him, then yet another. Lifting her hand, she gently cupped it around his cheek. Instinctively, the Radio Demon leaned into the touch.
"It really is you... isn't it."
Alastor pulled Y/n into his arms, wrapping her in his frame and resting his chin on the top of her head. Y/n was frozen in shock for a moment before she returned the gesture, balling her fists in to the back of his coat.
"Wow. You guys really know each other." Charlie mumbled to herself, eyes wide.
The pair pulled apart, Alastor still holding Y/n's waist as Y/n held his coat. She looked up at him, disbelief etched into her features, her sentiments reflected back to her in Alastor's own face.
"I thought..." he mumbled, raising a hand and tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, "I thought I'd never see you again."
Y/n laughed tearfully.
"Me too."
"Where have you been? What happened? What... what took you so long?"
"If I had known I was coming to you, I would have died way sooner. I lived, Al. That's what happened. I only just got here today."
"I know, I heard, but what... what kept you?"
Y/n heard the tremor in his voice, the fear. She looked up at him, eyes narrowed.
"Are you jealous?"
Alastor's eyes flicked to the side momentarily. One of his ears twitched. It might have been nearly ninety years since they had last seen one another, they might've looked completely different and had whole lives the other wasn't in, but it felt like they had just seen one another yesterday.
"Oh, you so are!" Y/n teased brightly.
"Y/n."
"Yeah, yeah. It's just dumb is all, especially now I know you've been here all along."
"So tell me."
Y/n had always loved his insistence. It was what kept Alastor to his code, kept him to her, kept him him. She smiled once again.
"Soooo..." Charlie stepped in, her hands behind her back, "Either of you want to explain?"
Both Alastor and Y/n at last turned to look at her. He was smiling again, Charlie noticed. Not the normal ear to ear grin, teeth bared, she was used to. Something smaller, something softer. They released one another, only for Alastor to immediately drape an arm over Y/n's shoulders. It almost seemed like each feared the other would vanish into thin air if they weren't physically touching. She reached a hand up, gently holding his hand where it hung off her shoulder, keeping him to her.
"Charlie, this is my darling, lovely wife."
Y/n shoved him playfully and he smiled down at her.
"You're married!?"
"Yes." Y/n nodded, "We are. Have been for what, like one hundred years now?"
"So what kept you?" Alastor asked again and Y/n sighed.
"You really aren't going to let this go, are you?"
He shook his head. Y/n slipped out from under Alastor's arm, taking both his hands in hers. Her fingers traced his knuckles, the lines of his bones beneath the surface of his skin. Her eyes watched their hands, she sighed.
"After... well, Al, you died burying a body. It was hard for people not to know. I..."
"You got caught? You went to jail?" Alastor interrupted, his smile having fallen once again.
Y/n laughed slightly under her breath.
"No, heart. I stopped my own work but, the whole world knew of yours. I thought that... it was so dumb! I thought that... if I was alive, then so was the real version of you in some way. Not the true crime, vandalized version, but the person I knew."
Alastor lifted her face to his, his hand lingering under her chin.
"You were always secretly quite the romantic, weren't you."
"Oh hush you."
"Make me."
Y/n cheeks suddenly flushed bright red.
"Okay!" Charlie interrupted, laughing nervously, "Okay, well, I'm happy for... this, um, Alastor! Why don't you show Y/n around?"
"With pleasure."
Alastor leaned down, kissing Y/n gently. Her hand was half raised to burry itself in his hair when he pulled away, smirking in response to Y/n's irritated glare. Linking arms with her, he began leading Y/n to the staircase.
"I must say, I rather like this new look of yours." he hummed placidly.
"You're not half bad yourself deer boy, if a little cocky."
"I was always cocky. That's what you liked about me."
"Wrong. It's only one of the things I love about you."
----
Next Part -> Cover Up pt. 3
977 notes · View notes
worldlxvlys · 2 months
Note
I need a fan fuck of those texts girly desperately
show me
chris sturniolo x reader
warnings: smuttttt, p in v, cream pie, oral (fem receiving), very fluffyyyy
a/n: here’s your soft smut 🤗
based off of these
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once chris and i got to my house, we made ourselves comfortable on my couch. when we finished our food, i turned to face chris.
“do you wanna talk about it?” i asked him softly.
“not really, can you just” he paused before continuing, “can you hold me?” he asked, his voice breaking slightly.
my heart broke for him, hearing the pain in his voice. without another word, i opened my arms for him, and he accepted my embrace.
his arms wrapped around my waist as he laid his head on my stomach.
i ran my fingers through his hair, gently twirling the ends around my finger.
“she makes me feel so worthless sometimes” he whispered against me, toying with the hem of my shirt.
“you are not worthless, chris. you mean so much to me, i don’t know what i’d do without you” i spoke softly. my top was slightly cropped, and chris’s face was pressed against my bare skin.
“you’ve poured your heart into this relationship and you’ve received nothing but disrespect and insults in response. you don’t deserve that shit. you deserve to be loved and cared for too” i said as i looked down at him.
“i am loved and cared for” he began “by you”he spoke as he looked up at me.
my brows furrowed slightly at his words.
“you’re always there for me” he whispered into my skin before leaving a light kiss on my stomach.
“chris” i whispered as my heart began to race, my breathing becoming rapid.
“you always make sure that i feel loved” he breathed out against my stomach, the touch of his lips igniting a fire under my skin.
he gave me another kiss, this one slightly higher up as he held eye contact with me.
i swallowed harshly, mind running wild with possibilities of what could happen.
“i want you to feel loved too” he grabbed my waist, lightly rubbing circles into the skin.
“chris, you have a girlfriend. we ca—” “she dumped me” he cut me off.
my eyes widened at that, “chris, you’re obviously upset, i can’t take advantage of you like that. and i’m definitely not gonna be a rebound”
he pulled my hands from his hair and laced them with his.
“ you don’t get it. i’m not upset about her. i mean, i was, at first. but now, i’m realizing that her treating me like shit was what i needed to appreciate the way you treat me. and it shouldn’t have taken all of that for me to realize it. and you’re definitely not a rebound. you have no clue how long i’ve been waiting for this moment. i’m sorry, let me make it up to you”
he brought his face to my jaw, but stopped himself.
his breath tickled my face as the tip of his nose lightly brushed my jaw.
“tell me you want this. tell me this is ok” he whispered to me.
i was so overwhelmed, i could barely concentrate.
i spent years pushing my feelings for chris aside, thinking he would never feel the same way about me.
i had convinced myself that i was being selfish and i forced myself to be happy for him.
i spent so long telling myself that i was fine and that i didn’t like him, that i genuinely believed it.
but if that was the case, then why did this feel so right ?
why was his touch alone driving me crazy ?
why was it taking all of my self control not to push my lips onto his ?
i couldn’t think straight when his lips were just centimeters away from mine.
“please, let me show you how much i love you. it’s the least i could do. i need you to know how much you mean to me”
my eyes closed as i took in the intimacy of the moment. i nodded my head at him, unable to speak the words.
he gently placed his hand under my chin, making me look at him.
“look me in the eyes and say it. i need to hear the words”
i slowly opened my eyes, meeting his intense gaze. “show me, chris. i want you to show me how much you love me”
without another word, his lips crashed against mine in a passionate kiss.
his lips were soft and they moved against mine perfectly.
this kiss was unlike anything i’d ever experienced before.
he kissed me like he was scared i would disappear in front of his eyes, like he didn’t believe it was real.
i pulled away for a second, to gauge his reaction.
his lips chased mine desperately, as though he wouldn’t survive without another kiss.
he pulled me back in for another without hesitation. this one being just as good, if not better, than the first.
he broke away from the kiss for a second. “is it ok if i take this off?” he asked gently tugging on my top.
“only if i get to take off yours” i whispered back.
“go ahead” he spoke. with that, i gently pulled his shirt off and threw it on the ground.
he then pulled mine off, eyes widening when he realized i didn’t have a bra on.
“oh my god” he mumbled to himself, “just when i thought you couldn’t get more beautiful”
his words made me flustered as i hid my face in his neck.
“don’t hide from me, ma. wanna see that pretty face”
he left kisses on my collar bones, trailing down the valley of my breasts. his kisses went down my abdomen and stopped right above my waistline.
“please chris” i moaned out, feeling the ache between my legs grow in anticipation.
he hooked his fingers around the fabric and tugged it down slowly.
i felt goosebumps rise on my legs as the cold air came in contact with the newly exposed skin.
chris left a kiss on my covered clit, making me let out a whine.
he gave me a long kitten lick through the fabric.
“please, chris. no teasing” i didn’t want to wait any longer than i already had.
“wanna take my time with you, baby. didn’t wait this long to rush it” he spoke against me, the vibrations shooting straight to my core.
“all you gotta do is relax, mama. let me take care of you” he spoke as he slid a finger into my panties, collecting the wetness that pooled there.
he took the finger that was covered in my arousal and slid it into his mouth, moaning at the taste.
“hmm, gotta taste more” he spoke as he pulled my underwear down.
as soon as his tongue touched my heat, i was a moaning mess under him.
“love hearing those sounds” he groaned against me, making my hips buck up into his mouth.
he swiped his tongue through my folds slowly and sensually, never breaking eye contact with me.
he watched the way my face contorted with pleasure, flicking his tongue in different ways to see my reaction.
he brought me closer and closer to my orgasm with just his tongue, before stopping.
before i could complain, he was pulling his sweatpants and boxers down.
“want you to finish with me inside of you” he spoke as he grabbed my hand.
he guided my hand toward his dick, looking at me with lust-blown pupils as i pumped him a few times.
“is this okay? are you good?” he asked.
“yes, please chris. need you so bad” i moaned.
he lined himself up and slowly pushed his hips into mine.
his face scrunched up as he tried to control himself, wanting to go slow.
he let out a slight whimper, making me clench around him at the sound.
“f-fuck, not gonna last if you do that again” he spoke as he willed himself to stay still.
“you can move” i spoke once i adjusted to his size.
he slowly began to move, letting out a shaky breath as my walls hugged him tightly, relentlessly squeezing him.
“holy shit, you’re so tight. don’t think i’m gonna last ma” he groaned out as his hands clung onto my waist like his life depended on it.
“chris, chris, oh my goddd. feels so good” i moaned out underneath him.
he dropped his forehead to rest against mine, cradling my jaw in his hand.
“you’re so” he cut himself off with deep groan “you mean so fucking much to me”
“love having you this close to me” i moaned out.
he began to thrust deeper inside of me, making me moan with every thrust.
i wrapped my legs around him, pushing him even closer to me.
“don’t know what i did to deserve you” he started, “but i’m never letting you go”
i squeezed his biceps as his dick twitched inside of me, signaling that he was close.
“i’m so close, chris” i cried out, feeling my orgasm creeping up on me.
“ i’m gonna wait, wanna cum with you” he spoke.
he brought one hand to my nipple, pinching and rolling the bud between his fingers.
“chris! i’m cumming!” i yelled out as my muscles began to tense.
“fuck, me too” he groaned out.
we both released together as our pleasure mixed together inside of me.
“oh my god” he breathed out, burying his face into my neck.
“you ok?” i asked as i drew little shapes into his skin.
“never better” he spoke as he moved his head back to look at me, smiling down.
“what about you? are you ok? did i hurt you?” he asked, looking my body up and down.
“no” i smiled lightly at him.
we both stared at each other for a while, silently processing what just happened.
after a little bit, i broke the silence.
“do you regret it?” i asked, not being able to get a good read on what he was feeling for once.
“of course not. i meant every word i said, i’d never lie to you. do you ?”
“no, baby. i’m pretty sure i’ve been in love with you for years, if it wasn’t obvious. i’ve wanted this for as long as i can remember” i said.
his face broke out into a grin at that.
“well that’s a relief” he spoke. “here, lemme help you to the bathroom”
he scooped me up from my spot on the couch, bringing me to the bathroom.
“you pee, i’ll run the water” he said, moving towards the tub.
once i did my business, he helped me into the tub and washed me off.
he helped me apply my favorite lotion and get into my robe.
after i was clean and dressed, he helped me to my room, and we got comfortable under the blankets.
the sound of his heartbeat and his deep breaths quickly lulled me to sleep.
“from now on, you’re the only person i’ll ever chose” was the last thing i heard before i fell into a deep slumber.
——————
masterlist
tag list: @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sturnsdior @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @vib3swithanuk @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @rheaakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @abbie13sworld @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @sturns-posts @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn
793 notes · View notes
sugarcoatedstarkey · 4 months
Note
for request ⊹ maybe someone makes a comment about how reader looks so rafe shows her just how beautiful he thinks she is.
I hope this was what you were wanting 🖤 thank you for requesting!
Beauitful -
warnings - people calling reader ugly, language & fem receiving oral. (18+)
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“Baby! Where did you- why are you crying? What happened?”
It feels like the world stops spinning when his eyes land on you, tears soak your face, harsh lines from where your makeup once sat perfectly blended where smudged and wet. Your eyes bloodshot and sad, Rafe is pulling you against his chest, your tears start falling harder the moment his hand cradles your head. “Can we please go?”.
He’s escorting you out of the party, wrapping his arm around your head to shield you from prying eyes. He sent angry glares to anyone trying to take a peek at you. “What happened baby?”
You shake your head, you know you shouldn’t be crying. People have been cruel your whole life, always picking on something. Most of the people who were rude were people jealous of your family's wealth, jealous of your relationship with Rafe. “It doesn’t matter”
Rafe stops you abruptly, cupping your jaw tightly. He has a deep crease between his eyebrows as he stares at you in annoyance. “No.. you're not doing that. You don’t get to cry and then tell me it’s nothing.. you wouldn’t be crying if it was nothing”
Squeezing your eyes shut in shame, it was such a pathetic reason to be crying. He was just going to laugh and tell you to get over it. “Just a stupid group of girls being bitches”
Rafe steps closer to you, caging you against the car door. “What did they say?”
“That they don’t know why you love me.. that I’m worthless.. that I’m ugly” you hiccup the last part, biting down on your tongue to stop the sobs.
The words sting your throat as you repeat them back to him, heart pounding harshly against your chest in embarrassment. You can't bring yourself to look at Rafe, you knew he was rolling his eyes. “Hey.. look at me. Don’t listen to those fucking idiots, your perfect, your beautiful.. I love you because your the light to my darkness”
Looking up at him through your lashes. The corner of your lips curve into a smile, surprised with how he was reacting to your words. “You’ve never let anyone’s words affect you before, don’t let it affect you now. Not when your the most beautiful person on this island”
His lips are on yours before you can comment, pressing his body to yours. Your mind goes blank for a moment, letting the taste of his tongue blind you from the hateful words floating in your head. “So beautiful baby.. look at these goddamn perfect lips” he grunts, pressing a chaste kiss to your swollen lips. Running his hand down the length of your arm and curling his fingers around yours. “Look at these perfect hands.. the only hands I want to touch me”
You're grinning now, staring at him with bright eyes. He returns the smile reaching around to grab the car door, he pulls you against him as he opens the door and escorts you to the back seat.
“Let me show you how beautiful you are”
He crawls over you, closing the door behind him roughly. The car shakes slightly as he settles between your legs, kissing your ankle and up your calf. “Beautiful, so fucking beautiful” he kisses the side of your knee, pulling you closer to him. All words have become liquid and pooled in your panties, he leaves open mouth kisses up the length of your thigh. Leaving your cunt untouched, raising your hips to chase his lips only for him to press you firmly against the back seat. His nose brushes your dress up past your belly button, biting softly at the skin of your lower belly. “Beautiful”.
Slipping his hand under the strap of your dress and tugging it down, your nipples hardened under the intense gaze of his eyes. “These… these are extremely beautiful” his tongue drags up and back down between your tits, using both palms to push them together on his face. “So perfectly round, so soft and so beautiful”.
His mouth envelopes your nipple, sucking and biting softly. Your hips tilt upwards until you create a delicious friction on his belt bucket. “Fuck” you breath, arching your back from the seat. “Your fucking moans are even beautiful… never listen to those assholes baby girl.. your so fucking perfect”.
He skims up the back of your thigh grasping the material of your thong, yanking it down your legs and tossing it to the front seat. Hands gripping the back of your thighs to angle your wet heat to his face, his eyes locked on your soaked hole. “I don’t know how many times I can say this but it's beautiful.. this pussy, absolutely magic. The only god damn pussy I need or want”.
He licks a harsh stripe up the length of your cunt sending shivers up your spine, eyes going crossed at the action. Sucking your clit into his mouth with such force has you jutting from the seat, he holds you firmly against his face. Your body convulsing from his abuse, tongue and mouth working overtime on your sensitive pussy.
Without warning he pushes all three fingers into you, scissoring and pounding. A dull ache finds home in your lower belly, thighs clamping around his head as your orgasm forms. “RAFE… holy shit- I oh fuck” your a sobbing mess, grinding your cunt into his face and fingers. The sound of your wet pussy edges you further into bliss. “That’s it baby girl… show me those beautiful sounds”
“Yeah.. yes yes yes oh fuck like that Rafe! Harder shit”
The moans and cries from your lips has Rafe painfully hard, but this was about you. Not him, so he pounded his fingers into you harder, curling them until they caressed the soft spongy part of your cunt. “oh my fucking god- I’m cumming!” You screamed, eyes screwed shut, toes curled and body shaking as your orgasm flooded you. When it finally settled and his fingers slipped from within you, you dropped back to the seat dazed and fucked out. “So beautiful baby.. do you feel beautiful?”
You nod your head, finally bringing your eyes to his. His mouth and chin glistened with your arousal, his pupils blown out. You reach for his belt buckle, wanting to free his aching cock.
“Nuhuh this is about you.. making you feel good baby”
“Please” you whine, palming him through the material of his shorts. His fingers grip your wrist, pulling them above your head roughly. “I just made you cum, isn’t that enough?”
“Your cock makes me feel good.. so fucking good Rafe, please”
That’s enough to have him reaching in his pants and pulling his hard heavy cock out, your mouth salivating at the sight. “Do you understand how beautiful you are yet?”
“Yes Rafe.. so beautiful. Now please put your cock inside of me”
551 notes · View notes
mikareo · 6 months
Text
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⌗ TWO SLOW DANCERS ₊ ˖ ་. gojo satoru x fem reader (1.2k)
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⊹ ⠀⠀why doesn’t he love you?
contains; angst, rejection, reader just wants to be loved, gojo's kinda a dick, mitski did this to me, not proofread author's note; i'm thinking abt the guy who didn't want me rn sorry
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“Can I ask you something?” you murmur, your voice nothing above a faint whisper. Fear of judgment is laced within it, something you can’t help but wish you could get rid of. “It’s going to sound ridiculous, and if you think so you can just ignore me.” He’s going to ignore you.
However, Gojo sits up straighter. His eyes are intending to focus on you. “Nothing you say is ridiculous. I’m always here to listen.” You want to believe him so badly. There’s nothing else in the world that you wish for. All you need is a confession, him reciprocating the depth of your feelings, but you know that’s impossible. If he felt the same, he wouldn’t have started seeing that girl; no matter the fact that she’s wonderful for him, amazing, and kind. If she’s so amazing, what are you doing wrong? What is it about her that you can’t compare to? You know you’d be perfect for Gojo. He’s your best friend. He’s the person who knows you better than anyone, so why is it that he doesn’t love you the same way you love him? It doesn’t make sense. 
What are you doing wrong?
“...am I difficult to love?” You feel like you already know the answer. It’s a pointless question that’s been eating you up inside for years, ever since you first met and he instantly treated you as a friend when you wanted to be loved by him. “I know it’s silly, but I feel so helpless.”
Without realizing it, your words flow from your lips like a river streaming downhill. Not even the largest dam could hold in your insecurities. “I try so hard, everyday to be kind and patient and perfect; but no one seems to notice. Is there something that everyone else has that I don’t? What am I missing that makes me invisible? Why do I feel so stuck while the world keeps moving and progressing and making changes that I can’t keep up with? Why don’t you love me?”
There it is. 
There’s the question that you’ve swallowed down for the past ten years of knowing Gojo Satoru…and somehow…
…it seems that he already knows the answer. 
“I do love you.”
In half a second, your heart beats faster. It swells with an overwhelming pink feeling that practically causes it to burst. You almost see stars. In your imagination you’re flying through the night sky, weaving constellations together as you hold Gojo’s hand and ask him what he’s wishing on that shooting star, oh so close to you. So close, yet so far. So far, that it never reaches you; because nothing is ever as it seems. It isn’t a wish racing your way, it’s a meteorite. A meteor thats target is the home in your heart that you’ve made so lovingly for your best friend. The flaming rock finds your weakest point and begins to wither it away into nothing but hopeless shreds of dreams. In a half a second, you’re on the top of the world. In a half a second, your world is destroyed. 
“I just don’t love you in the way you want me to.”
You’re a fool. You knew this was coming.
“I can’t imagine my life without you.” Shut up. Why can’t he just shut up? You don’t need these filler words, these empty statements that he’s only saying to make you feel better about your worthless self. “You’re such an important part of my everyday.” Shut up!
It’s so hard to hold in the tears. Your dam already burst— but instead of a river, it seems that you’ve got an ocean of feelings. This ocean is polluted, though. It’s littered in trash and oil, after years of wanting something that was never yours. Other men have thrown their waste in your waters and Gojo’s always been the one to clean it up. He’s always made you laugh…made you smile…made you believe that everything is going to be okay as long as you trust him. Now, you’ve made the mistake of trusting him with your heart; when he’s never cared if it shatters. 
“Please don’t say those things to me.” It’s pathetic, the whimper shaking from the tip of your tongue. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
Gojo isn’t even replying to you. He’s simply staring with the most pitiful look in his eyes, as if you’re a dying animal that he’s just shot with a rifle. How do you make him stop looking at you like that? You’re better than this! Just suck it up and smile!
Somehow, you find yourself laughing. “Don’t worry about it, Satoru. I’ll be fine, it’s just a silly little crush.” You’re lying. 
It’s so obvious you’re lying. 
He’s never been a crush. If he was a fleeting crush, then you wouldn’t spend your nights thinking of how you made him smile earlier in the day. You wouldn’t know his favorite place, song, and movie at the top of your head. You wouldn’t imagine his face whenever you picture your wedding day— at the end of the aisle, smiling at you with tears in his eyes. If he was just a little crush, it wouldn’t feel like your entire world is ending. 
“I know you’ve liked me, it’s a little obvious.” He shrugs. “I just assumed you’d get over it?” 
He knew? He’s known all this time?
There’s a war raging between your heart and your mind. It’s a battlefield with logic on one side and love on the other. The rational part of you knows that he can’t help his feelings. He can’t force himself to reciprocate something that he’s never felt before. That’s unfair to him, and you can’t make him love you…
…but the other half of you can’t accept that. 
After all these years of waiting for him. Years and years of watching your closest friends find love, be loved, and experience all of the firsts that you’ve always wanted to experience with him by your side. He doesn’t love you. You’ve known Gojo Satoru since you were ten years old. You’re twenty now and still so delusional that you believe he can feel the same way. Why can’t he, though? Gojo knows you from front to back. If there’s anyone in the world who could write an encyclopedia titled with your name, it’s him; and he still doesn’t love you. You’re the person who’s been there for him through countless breakups and temper tantrums. You’re the one who he trusts most in this world, yet he will never…ever…want you back. 
Someone is writing the story of the world. Someone is tying the strings of fate, the line of destiny, or whatever you want to call it; and that someone isn’t on your side. They never have been and they never will be…
…at least not in the case of Gojo Satoru. 
“I’ll try my best.” A phony smile graces your face and you’re now realizing that he’s never once called you beautiful. Yet, you still want him. Perhaps it’s human nature to wish for the things that are terrible for you. “You don’t have to worry about me, Satoru. I’ll be fine.”
Yeah, maybe in ten years. 
“I’ll be able to forget about this.”
You don’t think you will.
“I didn’t mean to inconvenience you.”
Your feelings are an inconvenience.
“It’s nothing.”
It was love.
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⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⊹₊。 reblogs are greatly appreciated! ˚₊⊹
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hanahaki270 · 1 month
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♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ “You Belong to Me” ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎
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・❥・ Synopsis ・❥・ Having an Uchiha as an ex doesn’t mean anything. Once you’ve managed to make them fall for you, you’re basically stuck with them for eternity.
・❥・ Pairing ・❥・ Sasuke x Fem!reader
・❥・ A/N ・❥・ I finally decided to continue watching shippuden after having it on pause for 5 years.. yeahhh so I’m having a huge obsession with it rn. Also please feel free to send prompt requests for me to write! And I feel like I definitely could have written this out better but I was in a rush and stressed out about Job interviews so mb
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♥︎
You finally gathered the courage within you to end your relationship with Sasuke. This wasn’t an easy decision. In fact it was tearing you apart. You still loved him. But the differences between your priorities and his were far too different to the point where they were conflicting with each other.
You might as well have been talking to a wall that day with how blank his expression was after you just announced how you were breaking up with him. The loud silence was killing you inside, does he not care at all?
♥︎
-You wanting to break up with him was like a jab at his ego. The Sasuke Uchiha. The last prodigy of his clan and you wanted to leave him? Though this enraged him, he refused to let you know it. He couldn’t let you have the satisfaction of knowing that this actually affected him.
-After you left the apartment he started to completely trash the place. Everything in it was obliterated into nothingness. But as soon as he went out in public he acted completely fine as if nothing happened.
-Anytime you were around he would make sure you saw him with other girls. He wanted to show you that he could be with anybody he desired without a problem, at any given second. Show you that you weren’t nothing special to him.
-He was lying. Because as soon as you left his vision he treated the girls like shit and pushed them aside after they served their purpose in making you jealous.
-He tried to sleep with random women in the village to further prove that he didn’t need you. (He was really just trying to convince himself) but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. None of them even compared to your beauty. Even the thought of another person lying on the bed you two once shared disgusted him.
-After weeks of this even Sasuke couldn’t believe his own facade. He craved you. He craved your smile, your laughter, Your touch. And is willing to do whatever it takes to remind you that you belong with him.
-He sucked up his pride and begged Naruto to send you two on missions together. So you’d be basically forced to talk to each other . (Naruto uses this against him every now and then)
-During one of the missions, one of your comrades decide to get a little touchy with you. You pay this no mind since you have no interest in the guy, but Sasuke definitely notices it. What’s a worthless ninja doing talking to what’s his?
-A couple of days after that mission, the scenario of another man getting that close to you haunted Sasuke day and night. There’s no way in hell you’d ever willingly decide to be with any other man but him. Right? He needed the reassurance and he needed it now.
-It was 4 am when you opened the door to your apartment after you were awoken by loud desperate banging on the door just to be faced with your ex. He invited himself in, closing the door behind him as he slowly crept towards you.
“Sasuke?”
-He reached for your hand and held it in his, as he focused on you as if there was nothing else in this world. You could tell he developed dark circles since the last time you saw him.
“The day we got together was the day I chose you to be the one I repopulate my clan with. The only one worthy of the surname Uchiha. You’re mine and I’m yours.”
-He noticed how you were at a loss of words so he took this moment to do what he’s been yearning to. He grabbed the back of your head pulling you into a kiss. The kiss was messy and desperate. He kissed you as if you were the oxygen he needed to breathe. And to him, you were.
-Needless to say you were vulnerable to his request and took him back. How could you not?
♥︎
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cutielando · 5 months
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out of line ~ rafe cameron
my masterlist
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Ever since you could remember, Ward had always been hard on Rafe. It might have been because he was his only son, it might be because he wanted him to mature early on, or it might be just because he hated his son.
At least that's what Rafe had come to believe.
Nothing he did ever seemed to be right. His father would always find faults in every single thing Rafe did, crushing the boy's morale every single time.
"I don't know how to please him anymore" he would always say when he came to you, all sad and unmotivated to even live.
You hated seeing your boyfriend like that. You hated the way Ward acted towards his son. You hated the fact that he always made Rafe feel bad about your relationship, always filling his head with thoughts that he didn't deserve you, that he should do you a favor and let you go because you would be better off without you.
It made your blood boil.
As you were laying on the couch in Rafe's home, his body laying on top of yours and your arms wrapped around his body, you were hoping to God that his father would not ruin your night.
"Rafe?" hearing Ward's voice made the both of you tense.
Rafe got up from laying on you and sat upright on the couch just as Ward walked in.
Eyeing you, you could see him clench his jaw and swallow harshly.
"Yes, dad?" Rafe said, clearing his throat and looking up at his father.
"What are you doing?" he asked, looking between the both of you.
The atmosphere in the room was tense, and you knew that Rafe was desperately weighing his answers to make sure he wouldn't say the wrong thing.
That is precisely why you decided to be the one doing the talking tonight, hopeful to finally give the older man a piece of your mind.
"We were watching a movie before you interrupted us" hearing you speak made Rafe's heart start beating rapidly.
He wiped his head around to look at you with wide eyes, but you kept eye contact with the older Cameron man.
"Excuse me?" his voice was dangerously low, but you weren't afraid of him and had no intention of backing down.
"You heard me. Do you want something with Rafe or not?" you asked, now standing up and stopping while face-to-face with him.
"You better watch your mouth, young lady" his threats fell on deaf ears, you were done cowering in fear of him.
Your family was the second richest one on the whole island, so you were also entitled to speak your mind seeing as you weren't a poor little Pogue afraid to speak in front of a Kook.
"That's funny, coming from the guy whose ego is so big he has to belittle his own son to feel better about himself" that struck a nerve.
Ward took a deep breath, exhaling loudly. His fists were pulsing, his veins were enlarged, he was on the verge of exploding.
But he knew better than that, he knew better than to make an enemy of your father. While Ward must think he's got the dangerous associates on the island, your father was by far more versed than him in that department. 
Your family might not have been the richest, but it was for sure the most dangerous one. And Ward knew that.
"How dare you?" 
"How dare I? How dare you look at your son, your own flesh and blood, and belittle him like he's a stranger to you? How can you stand there and insult him, make him feel worthless after how much he does to impress you, to satisfy you? And nothing ever seems enough. How dare you fill his head with lies about our relationship when you and I both know I am the only person who loves him and takes care of him. I am the only one who wants the best for him, not even you as his father? What the fuck is wrong with you?" you felt so good getting everything off of your chest.
Rafe was still speechless, still sitting behind you on the couch.
He was grateful for every word you had said, having conveyed everything he had been feeling but was too afraid to tell his father.
"You are way out of line here, bitch" he spit with venom in his voice.
Your eyes darkened and you stepped even closer to him, being almost face to face with him.
"Call me a bitch again and see what happens. We don't want to repeat what happened at Midsummers, now, do we? Or did you forget what my daddy did?" your voice now being dangerously low, knowing you had struck another nerve.
Ward visibly tensed, having remembered that your father had almost killed him in a fight when he insulted you at Midsummers while being intoxicated.
He cleared his throat and nodded, taking one last look at Rafe before turning around and leaving the house.
"Thank you" Rafe's small voice said as you next back next to him on the couch, unpausing the movie you had been watching.
"Never thank me for that. I want you to feel safe, and I was just telling the truth. You know my father has your back, he loves you and he would do anything for you" you told Rafe, who nodded.
Your father and him have had a very close and special relationship ever since you started dating almost 3 years prior. 
Due to the fact that you were an only child and your father had always wanted a son too, he treated Rafe like he was his own. He knew about his situation with Ward and always made sure he was being taken care of.
You sometimes thought your father liked your boyfriend more than you.
"I know, but still. Thank you for everything, you don't know how much I love you, baby" he leaned his body back on top of you, savoring your warmth and delicate touch.
"I love you too, so much"
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Note
Hello!! How do we feel about a Ghost x reader where the reader has trouble opening up emotionally. When she does, she feels like she’s burdened him and has to make up for it…kind of “earning back his love” through acts of service. Love your work!!!!
Thank you so much!!!! I hope this is what you were looking for. I relate to this so much😭
Synopsis: You finally open up to Simon about your depression, but end up feeling like a burden after doing so.
Warnings: mentions of depression, worthlessness and being a burden, swearing, angst
I've Got You, Kid.
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“Have any of you seen Y/N?” Ghost had spent the better part of 20 minutes trying to find you on base. 
“Think the lass went out for a walk in the courtyard, she said something about needing fresh air.” Soap said, looking away from his card game with Gaz to address Ghost.
Ghost grunted in reply, and made toward the courtyard. He’d been wanting to talk to you all day. You were fairly quiet the whole week, and not acting quite like yourself. 
He found you on one of the benches in the courtyard, staring up at the sky. He stopped before approaching you to take in your features. You looked beautiful in the moonlight. You had almost looked as if you were glowing. The thing that he'd noticed most of all, though, was the frown that was etched on your face.
"Hey, love." He gently touched your shoulder to get your attention.
"Oh! Hey. Doing okay?" You turned to look at him, mustering a smile best you could.
"I should be asking you that. Are you alright?" Simon's eyes softened as they took you in. He could tell the smile on your face wasn't a genuine one, and it tugged at his heart. 
"I'm fine, just tired is all." You waved away his concerns and looked back up at the night sky.
"Y/N. We've been together for how long? I know when something is off, love. Talk to me, please." He begged quietly, turning your face toward him with his hand.
You took a deep breath and furrowed your brows as you debated on telling him. You'd been feeling down for a while now. Your depression would come and go randomly, but this time, it was worse than usual. You weren't one for talking about your feelings, though. Coming from a family who was not keen on sharing emotions, you learned from a young age to bottle up your feelings. The way Simon was looking at you, however, had you feeling that it may be okay to let him in on your internal struggle.
"I um. Just haven't been feeling myself. I don't feel like I've been doing a great job out in the field, I'm tired all the time, and I just feel, I don't know. I've been feeling worthless." You grew quiet as you finished your thought, turning your gaze to your folded hands in front of you. "I just can't shake this feeling, no matter how hard I try."
"Hey, now. None of that. You've been doing amazing, kid. Price was just telling me the other day how good you've gotten." Simon said as he grabbed your fidgeting hands in his, stroking them softly. "Thinking like that will only bring you down worse."
"Yeah, you're right. It's stupid. Just gotta shake it off." You said softly and tried your best to give your lover a genuine smile. 
"It's not stupid." Simon gave you a warm smile in return and kissed your temple. "Why don't we go get some sleep. It's been a long day."
You nodded your head in agreement, biting your lip to keep it from quivering. You thought maybe opening up to Simon would've made you feel better, but it made you feel worse. You weren't sure exactly what you'd wanted him to say, but his words did little to ease your somber mood. To make matters worse, you felt that you annoyed him. He had enough of his own problems to deal with, he didn't need you adding yours to his plate as well.
Taking his arm, the two of you walked to his quarters in a comfortable silence. At that moment, you wanted nothing more than to climb in bed and cry yourself to sleep. 
The next morning, Simon awoke to your side of his bed being cold. He stretched his arms out to pull you close, only to find your side empty. He sat up hoping to find you still in his room, and frowned when you weren't there. 
Thinking you must've gotten an early start without him, he got up to start his day, pausing abruptly when he saw a note lying on top of his mask, with a pair of fresh clothes for him to wear.
Washed up your mask, and uniform! Was a little dirty, so I thought I'd give it a good clean. Used the soap you like, too. - Y/N
Simon chuckled to himself as he inspected his mask. It'd been a while since it was cleaned, and he couldn't help but smile as he got a whiff of the detergent he loved so much. 
~
Later on, he made his way into the mess hall where he found you sitting with Soap. 
"Morning, love. Thanks for washing my mask." He kissed your brow as he approached. " 'M gonna go get some-"
"Already got it for you! Coffee black with two sugars, and a plain bagel one side with cream cheese and one with butter!" You cut him off, pointing to the spot next to you. 
Simon's eyes widened at your words, and looked down to find his usual morning breakfast sitting on the table beside yours. 
"Gee, thanks, kid." He squeezed your shoulder lovingly before sitting down next to you. 
"Shit, you two ever go sideways, Y/N just so you know I'm single…and more than ready to mingle." Soap joked, dodging a piece of bagel being thrown at him by Simon. 
You chuckled to yourself before gathering your trash on the table and standing up. 
"Leaving already?" Simon's eyes lifted from his food to meet yours, a bemused expression forming on his face.
"Yeah, got some stuff to do. Busy day!" You chirped, kissing Simon's head before making your way to the trash bin. 
Simon looked back to his food before turning to Soap. "Is everything okay with her this morning?"
"Dunno, tried talking to her, but you know how she is." Soap smiled sadly, and his gaze fell on you, exiting the mess hall. "Somethings clearly up with her, though."
Simon grunted in reply, turning back to finish his breakfast. 
~
In the evening, Ghost still hadn't seen you since the mess hall that morning. He'd kept an eye out for you the entire day, not spotting you once. You hadn't even joined him for lunch, which was rare for you. 
He walked into the weapons locker to report for weapon cleaning duty, and was shocked when he stepped foot inside. All of the weapons had already been cleaned, and neatly stacked in such a way that he immediately knew you were the one to do it. 
Ghost took a deep breath, and let his thoughts race. You were always a kind lover, going above and beyond to help him, but this was extreme. For you to do all the things you'd done for him today, yet not show your face much at all the entire day? Simon felt his heart strings tug a little, and he knew he had to talk to you. 
Did he not say the right things last night? Were you still feeling upset? He knew he was bad with words, but he had truly thought he'd gotten better at it. 
Making a B-line for the mess hall, he was hoping you'd still be there finishing up your dinner. 
When he'd arrived he was elated to find you still sitting in your usual spot, this time with Konïg. You were laughing quietly with the man before Simon approached the two of you.
"Hey! I can go grab you some dinner, do you want to join us?" You gave Simon a small smile, and moved to stand. 
"No, I'm fine. Do you have a moment actually? To talk?" 
"Okay." You followed Simon, who was moving at a rather brisk pace to exit the mess hall.
"Are you okay?" You questioned him once the two of you were alone.
"Y/N, sweetheart, please talk to me." He pleaded, grabbing your hands in his. "You haven't been yourself in days, and I thought everything was okay after last night. But it doesn't seem better, and I can't help but feel like I said something wrong."
Your eyes started to gloss over as you took in his words. You felt even worse now, knowing that Simon thought this was his fault. You were the one being the burden, not him. 
"No, no. I just." You paused, not knowing what to say next. You, like Simon, weren't great with expressing how you felt, and were struggling to find the words. 
"I- I feel like a burden. I know you have enough on your plate and here I am whining about being depressed. I felt bad so I.. was trying to make you happy." Tears were now falling down your cheeks, and Simon's thumbs came to stroke them away. 
"Y/N, look at me. You are not, and never will be a burden, do you understand me? I love you more than you'll ever comprehend. I know I am not great at talking all the time, but my God I will listen to you and whatever troubles you may have, no matter how small they may seem to you." He spoke softly, as his thumbs continued to wipe away your tears. "And do not ever think you don't make me happy. I'm the happiest I've ever been in my shitty life, because of you."
"Simon." You sobbed, throwing yourself into his chest. 
"I've got you, kid. I'm always here, okay? I love you so fucking much." Simon wrapped his arms tightly around you, rubbing your back in soothing circles. "Why don't we make a pact. Let's both do better coming to one another with this stuff. So that it never gets this far. That sound okay?"
You nodded your head against his chest, blinking away the remaining tears. Simon leaned down to place a kiss on your temple.
The two of you stayed like that for a while, Simon continuing to rub your back. 
"I love you Simon, thank you." You said, pulling away to kiss him. 
"Of course, that's what I'm here for, yeah? Why don't we go inside, I'll draw you a bath in my quarters."
"Only if you'll join me."
"Always." Simon smiled down at you, and took your hand to lead you toward his room. 
—----------------------------------------------------
A/N: Thanks for reading!!☺️ Working on a few other requests but feel free to send any you'd like to see written!
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kaciidubs · 5 months
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Words I don't Mean
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❣ Summary: He just wanted to lose himself in you, instead he lost himself in his own mind - but you were there to bring him back. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 982 ❣ Warnings: Mean Dom! Reader, Sub! Chan, subdrop, use of safeword, mention of sex toy [dildo], mention of spanking, implied degradation, implied smut, fluff, comfort, slight angst, feelings of inadequacy, self doubt, aftercare, words of affirmation, praise, cuddling ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Chris, Channie, baby, my love, baby boy, and pretty boy, unedited ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist
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He usually liked when you called him useless.
He usually liked when you said he wasn't good for anything but your pleasure.
So why did the words that usually drove him crazy with need, suddenly send a pang of shame through his chest?
He shook it off, putting it up to him not expecting you to go so hard so soon, but when you called him your 'brainless little slut' he felt the spiral begin.
Did you really think we was stupid? Worthless? Had you finally seen him as inferior as he's been feeling lately?
Nothing was going right for him this past week, so he jumped at the proposition of play time to hand off all of the stress he's been feeling; however, it seemed like the clutches of responsibility would not let him go.
Your hands were firm against his hips, seemingly rougher than usual, his ass stung from the force of your palm on his cheek - he usually loved it, so why was his heart aching?
Tough it out, Channie. You like this, Channie. She's doing this for you and this is how you repay her?
His hands fisted the sheets underneath him, the once euphoric fog of pleasure suddenly turning heavy and stale.
You asked for this, you told her you wanted this, are you gonna disappoint her too?
His head was swimming, he felt like he was drowning on air - he needed this, he needed this.
If you can't do this, what are you good for? What have you ever been good for?
"Chris?"
He squeezed his eyes tight, tongue heavy in his mouth.
"Chris? Baby, what's your color?"
"N-No..."
His voice didn't sound like his own - did he even speak?
"Baby boy, can you give me a color, please?" Your touch, softer, slid up his back, you weren't blind to the slight flinch of the man underneath you.
"P-Please," a weak sob fell from his lips, his head pressing further against the mattress, "'m okay, just use me - u-use me-"
"Pear." The alternate safeword, gentler than red, floated past your lips and you felt his body relax. "I'm gonna pull out, okay, baby?"
Chris nodded, taking a short breath as the dildo slid out of him - no drag of pleasure, just the dull pang of emptiness that weighed on his heart.
He could hear you shuffle around, feel the bed dip and move underneath him until a hand caressed the side of his face.
"Channie? My love?" You cooed softly, wiping away a warm tear trailing down his cheek, "Can you look at me?"
It took almost too much effort for him to wrench his eyes open, blinking away the sting to look up at you through watery eyes; the gentle gaze you gave him making his bottom lip tremble.
"There's my pretty boy - my sweet, sweet Channie, can I hold you?"
Short questions, yes or no, none of them a life or death situation and encouraged him away from sinking further into himself. It was rare for him to experience a drop, and even rarer for it to happen in the middle of a scene, but you could investigate the cause or it at a later time.
He nodded his head, heart fluttering just a bit when you nodded in reply; watching you position yourself into laying down on your back and welcoming him with open arms.
Wasting no time, he shuffled himself closer, his head laid right above your heart while his legs tangled themselves with yours, arms sliding to wrap around your waist,
The gentle thumps calmed him, the rise and fall of your chest reminding him how to breathe, the feeling of your fingers threading through his hair reassuring him that he was okay, he was safe.
"...do you really think I'm worthless?" He suddenly spoke, shocking both you and himself, though he couldn't seem to stop. "That I'm not... good enough? A-Am I not enough?"
"No, no, baby," your free hand went to cradle his cheek again, holding him close, "you're none of those things, you hear me? You're amazing, smart, talented, more than enough as a person could be - I don't mean any of those words I said, you know that, right?"
There was a pause, a moment of hesitation you knew better than anyone, and you were sure he could've heard your heart break if he was listening close enough.
"Pretty boy, my darling Christopher, you mean more to me than I could ever express - you mean more to the world than you could ever know." A soft breath of a laugh passed your lips, you could feel his cheek twitch with what you could imagine to be a small hint of a smile. "I know it's hard to get out of that smart, beautiful brain of yours, but I'll do everything I can to remind you that you are enough - you are more than enough."
This time, the silence wasn't filled with hesitation, but acceptance - surrendering the buzzing of his mind to the soothing scratch of your nails against his scalp and the soft breeze of your breath across his forehead.
"Can..." He sighed out a shaky breath, the fog slowly beginning to clear, "Can you keep holding me?"
You nodded, turning your head to press a gentle kiss to his forehead, "I'll hold you as long as you want, and when you're ready, we can take a bath and I'll hold you then, too."
A small, happy hum vibrated through him, anticipating the soothing smell of lavender bath oil. "And when we go to bed?"
"Especially when we go to bed - and when we wake up, and when I see you after work, and when you come home."
His shoulders shook, a laugh, a short breath of things getting better.
"I love you."
"I love you, my darling Channie, my wonderful Chris, my more than enough Christopher."
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Step-Son MPreg
CW- mpreg, sex, language, Step-Son X Step-Dad storyline
I always fancied my step-dad since i met him i thought he was hot, hes a classic himbo, hes tall, muscly, blonde and stupid as can be.
I never knew if he was purposefully flirting with me of was just too stupid to understand it was wrong, but it being wrong made me so horny, id often wank off after he’d compare our hand sizes, snuggle up to me or even bend over to empty the dishwasher, anything and everything he did turned me on so hard! he always wore clothes that left nothing to the imagination, short-shorts, crop-tops or no tops! My actual dad loved this about him and it made me so jealous seeing them cuddle and kiss and then one day… my dad went on a business trip. it was now or never.
i came downstairs in my dressing-gown and boxers showing off my abs and mediocre pecs i walked into the living room to my step-dad half asleep on the couch only in his briefs and white running socks, sweating and scratching his perfect body when he saw me he woke up a little and pushed a finger into his underwear suggestively “oh… hey man” he said in a gruff half awake voice “h-hey” i stammered taken aback by how horny he already seemed my cock visibly swelled in my already tight boxers. he glanced down to it quickly and blushed “come here pal i have something to show you” he said gesturing for me to walk over- i follow his orders and sit next to him, he places his hand on the back of my head and pulls me in for a deep long kiss. i rest my hand on his groin and feel his cock twitch and harden through his pants i then slowly kiss his neck, then his chest, then his abs until his beautiful totem-pole of a cock is in-front of my face. i confidently slip it all into my throat in one go and he lets out a little moan.
i suck him off for what feels like an hour before he pulls me up by my armpits and spins me around, he lifts my dressing gown up and squeezes my ass before bending me over the couch as he teases my underwear down making my cock twitch due to the prolonged friction, he then rubs the head of his penis along the outside of my un-used hole while i beg for his cock i then moan loudly as he slides it all in at once. he grabs the hair on the back of my head and holds my cock in the other one of his massive veiny hands his expert technique instantly turns me into a worthless hole only purpose is to please him, after a few hours of fucking and cumming we fall asleep on the couch naked together.
after a few more days of constant fucking, sucking and cumming my real dad comes home and we have to start being discrete, doing it in one of our cars or while hes away or even just quietly under the kitchen table, the closer he is, the hotter we find it.
after months of this i notice a small ball in the centre of my stomach while getting dressed i think nothing of it and carry on and on until its too obvious to hide under baggy clothes, i tell people im just bulking cause i want to build mass, i wanted to believe it but me and my step dad knew it was more.
his cum must be super-human i quickly became the biggest pregnant person id ever seen i stuck to my story but less and less people believed it that was when my dad confronted me “hey buddy!” he said putting his head around my door into my room as i lay weighted down by my planet-belly, “ive noticed that your clearly pregnant” i try to sit up and defend myself but it takes me far to long to even start bending my mid-section “you dont need to deny it i know what it looks like-you where one hell of a baby! anyway i was just wondering who the daddy was and if hes in the picture” i knew he was asking because my other dad was never in the picture “well erm he kind of is” i finally admit rubbing my tight taught skin “its m-my step dad” i say defeated. “no fucking way!” my dad says more surprised than angry he finally steps fully in my room without a shirt on revealing his own pretty-large pregnant belly…
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sweetkiitsunez · 4 months
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❞ 𝐀𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐚 𝐇𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐬 - synopsis : imagine waking up in the bath tub with leviathan completely naked and your neck was wrap around with his lovely chains !! ♡
❞ ; warning: dead dove eat. nsfw content (18+) f!sub (afab!reader) + dom!Leviathan + breath control k!nk + degradation + dacryphilia + dubcon and slightly noncon + mention of hanging and suicide + bathtub sex
author note: hello~ this is my first blog of smut of What the "Hell" is bad!! I apologize for the lack of writing bcs this is my first time writing smut, but please enjoy and please add something if I am missing something in the warning! 🙏💕
a/n II: I apologize if it bad bcs english isn't my first language 🫶💕
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"worthless girl," leviathan scoffs at you the moment that you woke up. you are naked and your skin is touching the ice cold water. you couldn't breath as the chains around your neck. sitting on leviathan's crotch feeling his dick touching your pussy lips. you couldn't help, but choke and moan at the same time. both of your hands were chained up together.
"l-leviathan..." you choked his name, but it makes the chain goes a little higher. your body is shivering when the cold air touched your body. "A-ah!" you cried, feeling the tears slowly appearing.
"such a slut..." his voice sultry as his hands roams around your naked body. "such a whore... do you want the chain to go higher...? until you can't breath anymore...?" he whispers. his white button up shirt is soaked wet with cold water. all you can see is blurry vision from your tears and lack of oxygen. you did nothing wrong... you knew that he is jealous. jealous of you. your body is trembling and shivering. your hands is pulling the chains away from your neck, causes leviathan to become angrier.
Leviathan marked you. the mark and bruises from the chains wrapped around your neck starting to change your skin tone to darkish purplish. you couldn't breath as tears are rolling down your cheeks. "...please... l-leviathan..." you softly beg him to release you. feeling your body is throbbing in pain. "...please... release me..." hearing your whine as leviathan just watched you in sadistic.
Leviathan wants to humiliates you by watching you suffer with his chains wrapped around your neck until you're out of breath. he has no desire to kill you because you are Descendants of Solomon. he rather watch you being humiliated. his dick is rubbing your pussy lips as you whine, hearing the chains rattles. hearing the splashes from the bath tub. he refuses to let you go, he rather watch you suffer.
his hands groping your body as you cry. he envy of others for hoarding you like you are some special prize from the carnival. his two fingers found your clit as he rubs it as you cry even more. "...n-no... n-not there... please...!" you cry, but he ingores you. sucking on your body making a mark on you to show that he belongs to you. your pussy has become sore as your thighs tremble. you felt if the chains around your neck is getting tighter.
"be quiet, slut..." he mumbled under his breath. you could feel his dick slowly inserting into your insides as you let out a loud cries as tears. it hurt, but also feels good at the same time. your neck starting to hurt as you tried to pull the chains away from your neck. "it doesn't hurt." he said slowly moving your hips as you softly moans and choke.
the sound of water swishing and splashing from the bathtub. you could feel his hands gripping onto your hips and thighs. he bounces your body as he stares at your naked body. tears rolling down your cheeks as he continues to bounce your body. you couldn't breath anymore as the sound of you pleading and moaning was ingored by leviathan's deaf ears. you don't want to die, but leviathan is keeping you alive as his toys to mess around and throw you away like scraps. "your tears are pretty... I'm jealous..." he muttered as he harshly grabbed your face with his one hand. hearing the metal clink and your face was harshly grabbed. you could feel the metal chains burning through your skin around your neck.
"cry more, until you're full..." he muttered, his grip is harsh, but it feels good and painfully. he grip his hand on your hips as he keeping up the pace. hearing your moans and choke as leviathan's fingers piercing through your skin as you cry more.
"...I'm c-coming... l-leviathan... p-please... a-ah!!" you pleaded and cry as tears spill through your cheeks.
"don't cum slut, you're gonna make me jealous if you cum first..." he muttered as his other hand squeezes your cheeks, feeling his nails piercing through your flustered cheeks. you are tired and about to lose oxygen.
"...p-please... l-leviathan!" you beg one more time. "...wanna... come badly..."
leviathan is tired of hearing your whine and cries. he commands the chains around your neck higher. your vision is getting blurry as the chains is getting higher. "A-ah! c-can't breathe!" you gasp.
"f...fuck... I'm coming... soon." his low sultry voice mumbled as he squeezes your hips. your eyes widen feeling the tip of his cock kissing your cervix over and over. you knew that he is coming soon. "don't cum slut. you're gonna make me jealous."
"I...I... can't..." you cried. you couldn't hold it anymore, but you could tell that leviathan isn't happy that you came first then him.
you noticed that leviathan stopped. until you felt a harsh tug from the chains as you fell backwards on the bathtub. your back hitting against the white porcelain tub. the water splashes everywhere on the floor.
you felt a harsh grip as he makes you look at him in his beautiful white (?) eyes. feeling humiliated as he stares at your teary and abuse figure. he leans closer as he whispered to you quietly with a disappointed tone.
"i told you, not to cum first, you whore." he whispered causes you to shiver in fear. "unless you want to die from lack of oxygen, huh? Descendants of Solomon?"
he slowly give you a sadistic smile as he commands the chains to wrap around your neck tighter and higher until you can't breath.
" [ H A N G ] "
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