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#And spending most of all that time just working (in my time off) and cleaning the depression piles
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My Mess (Dazai x Reader)
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In which we clean blood off him after a mission
Read my other dazai oneshots here, here & here :] (peep the turtle smile)
Impulsively wrote this today after a crying session
Bye now - Mars ♡
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Dazai came home bloodied and bruised. He stumbled into your apartment, seeking you out from where you were on the couch engrossed in your book. Not caring that he was messing up your couch or clothes, he flopped down onto the couch, burying his face into your stomach with mumbles of words you have a hard time figuring out.
“Osamu, what happened?” there’s an urgency in your voice as you assess your boyfriend’s state, propping him to sit up, but he’s stubborn and bury his face into your chest. “Sit up, please, for me?”, you’ve found over the years of dating Dazai that he doesn’t allow himself the freedom of emotions. He doesn’t love often, but when he loves, he loves.
Reluctantly he sat up, looking at you with a smile, a fake one. The one he gives everyone when he so effortlessly slips into his overdramatic happy persona. But you know better. Of course, you know better when your soul is a hopeless mess without his and vice versa. It’s what happens when you spend so much time with someone, when your days and laughter blend into theirs and your body trusts them so much that sleep comes naturally, even for the sleepless like him.
“What happened, ‘Samu?” you ask again, voice so gently it takes the form of a whisper, brows frowning softly as your eyes search his for an answer, or explanation, or something. Anything he’s willing to give you. Anything of truth. No pretenses.
“Had a mission today”
That you knew. He’d told you before he left for work, thinking you were willed away with slumber, but you heard the sweet melody of his voice through your dreamland. A sickeningly sweet tune luring your soul back to its body, to him. To him.
His face was exhausted, eyes darker than usual. His hair matted with dried blood and his bandages stained red from the thick crimson. Whether his or someone else, you were unsure of.
“Wanna tell me about it?”
“No”
‘Okay”
You hummed, standing up and urging him to stand too. “Let’s get you cleaned up”
You made your way to the bathroom, Osamu practically slumped over you. You guide him to sit on the stool you kept in your bathroom for shaving.
“May I?” you asked softly, your voice honeyed to not startle him. You’d seen Osamu without his bandages before though it wasn’t plenty of times. You didn’t want to rush things with him, founding yourself liking what you had with this man.
He also liked, and appreciated, your understanding nature. He loved how gentle you were with him and most of all he liked how you let him figure his shit out. Never wanting to save him, just be there for him whilst he saved himself.
He nodded, closing his eyes, and resting his head on your shoulder. His hands found themselves around your waist, if only loosely.
You gently unwrap his bandages, taking a washcloth and wetting it with some warm water, pressing it against his skin. The warmness of the water softens the stubborn dried blood. The silence overtakes you both, it’s comfortable. No need to fill the space.
You continue to wipe him down, only slipping away to run the bath for him. Filling the tub with warm water and dropping a bath bomb to dissolve in it. Stepping back over to him, ridding him of the rest of his clothes as you help him into the tub.
Osamu rested his head over the edge, whilst you wetted it, adding the shampoo and conditioner to soften the matted mess of a bird’s nest that has become his usually silky hair. You noticed he closed his eyes, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his forehead, along with words of affection.
Dazai opened his eyes and looked up at you, a soft smile graced his lips. “Bella…” He spoke, “Join me”
You smiled, ridding yourself of your clothes and slipping into the waters with him. Body straddling his as you brought your hands to cup his cheeks. “Worries me when you come home like this” you confess, words shaky as you bit your lower lip to hold back the emotions threatening to spill over.
“M’okay, Bella” Osamu soothes, “See, right here, safe and sound” he whispers, drawing you closer for a kiss. A simple soft kiss, you feel him. Tongue slipping into your mouth, hands wandering down to your waist, one slipping lower to squeeze the fat of your ass.
You gasp softly against his lips, Dazai’s mouth swallowing all your sounds. “Always come back to you, baby, don’t worry that pretty little head” he rasps against your lips, swollen lips.
Dazai’s mood stabilized as his darling tended to him. The soft touches of your fingers and words caressed his soul and hardened his cock. The rawness of your worry is something he loves. Because it shows you care, genuinely. It silences his mind that tries to tell him that you don’t, that all of this isn’t real and that any day you’d up and leave him.
So when you stay and tend to him as he comes bloodied and hurt instead of running away scared and frightened and disgusted, as he expected you to be, it relieved him greatly. It affirms the unspoken truthness of your relationship. You love him. You love him. Maybe just as much he loves you, he hopes.
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severeaesthetic · 2 days
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In another life
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@wttcsms banner credit
I am so sorry in advance
⚠️Angst, Death, mentions of violence, suicide⚠️
Nanami Kento is a very serious man. He was serious in his job as a salaryman was serious in the four years he did it full time. He is serious about his wife and his daughter and son on the way. Now though, he has more pressure as a jujutsu sorcerer and teacher at Jujutsu high. He doesn't get to spend as much time as he would like with, you, his heavily pregnant wife and two year old daughter Kurotori. He has a picture on his desk from when you moved to your new country home in a tiny village not far from Jujutsu High. He looked forward to coming home to his girls every day.
After leaving the school after another draining day, he was excited when he saw Kuro in the window waiting on him. As soon as he parked and got out of his car Kuro took off towards him, screaming at the top of her lungs "papa home! papa home! papa home!" Ken dropped his briefcase and immediately picked her up and smothered her in kisses causing her to giggle at the feeling of his stubble tickling her.
He was a man who loved his routine. He loved parking his car and picking up his daughter who always ran outside to be the first to greet him before you could. She was a daddy's girl through and through. He loved you though, just as much. He loved you waiting for him at the door with a kiss and when your daughter would push you away cause "das my papa mama!" and you can't kiss him until he Ken tickles her and calls her a brat(playfully) for not letting you kiss him. Dinner changes every other day depending on leftovers. He always looked forward to eating the delicious food you made, and getting your daughter stripped and in her high chair ready to make a mess with whatever it was.
Most parents find being with their child and doing little tasks tedious and annoying. But not him. He loves being home early enough to spend time with Kuro before she goes to bed. He does bath time every night, unless he has to work late (which is very rarely does, that was his one rule when going back to sorcery). He enjoys rolling up his sleeves and playing with the bubbles and bath toys and spending as much time as he can with these little moments. Both of you have to get Kuro ready for bed. One of you does the diaper and the other gets her dressed. Then, her night time routine. Her cup of milk and snuggled in her big girl bed between you and Ken and one of the many books she has. Her favorite series is Skippyjon Jones, so those books are read over and over again, but Ken doesn't care. He loves seeing the way her eyes light up at the silly cat and the very cute way she repeats certain words and phrases like a parrot.
After getting her to bed, it's big people time. This is the time where you both clean up and put away dinner and do the dishes. Soft music playing in the background and glasses of wine for the bu both of you. After the dishes are done the two of you dance in the dim light of the kitchen having a moment to be with each other in a way that isn't sexual. After cleaning up, you two head to the bath or shower with soothing lavender candles. Most of the time it leads to passionate love making, neither of you in a rush and just being together in the moment. Your night time routine is pretty much intertwined, you do yours and his skincare, brush your teeth, rub lotion on each other, Ken is always the one to rub your baby bump with lotion, he talks to it and tries to feel the baby kicking. Massages are a must, his shoulders kill him and your lower back and hips is typically what kills you with the baby on the way.
He loves his routine and wouldn't change it for a thing. So when his routine gets interrupted by whatever the case may be pissed is an understatement. Not at you or Kuro, never at you two. Working late is usually what pisses him off to no end. But this time it was important. Curses everywhere, wiping out all the sorcerers. He knew you and Kuro would be safe away from the city thank God. There was so much damage to the city and the innocent people by the major attack. He was hurt badly, so even though he knew you were up waiting for him he stayed at the school and got his wounds tended to before coming home.
"Mr. Nanami? Mr. Nanami?" He was confused, at first he thought it was your voice but you never called him that. It was a mans voice. All of a sudden everything isn't blurry anymore. The police tape on his front door, red and blue lights illuminating everything. Including the three bodies under sheets being put back into the coroner vans. He was sitting in the back of an ambulance with a shock blanket, barely registering that an officer was telling him he would have to identify the bodies.
"Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here today..." Ken zoned out after that. He was sitting in the front pew of the church with all the staff from Jujutsu High. All he could focus on was the three pictures. You, Kuro, and your baby boy who didn't have time to live. He knew that your daughter would've wanted pink and glittery, so he fulfilled her request. Matte black for you and a powder blue matte for your son. He knew how much his girls loved flowers so he spared no expense and the whole church was an array of flowers in different colors and species even if it wasn't the right season.
Empty. That doesn't even describe it. There is nothing to describe the hole that is his heart. He has tried to go on about his routine as best he can. But the ultimate interruption has driven him mad. He has no more tears to cry. He sleeps with your clothes and Kuro's favorite blanket and stuffed teddy bear because it smells like you both still. He goes to work and stares at that picture on his desk. He goes through the motions of his daily routine.
Sitting at his desk, he was watching your wedding video. One thing you said in your vows stuck out to him though.
"I found you in this life, and I promise to find you in every other life after this one." Both of you were crying and looking absolutely stunning in your dress and his suit.
In another life. You said you would find him. He said he would find you. So it's okay that he wants to leave so much to be with you and his kids. He has thought about it a lot since that day. It is so tempting. He hasn't been eating as much. Again, it's his planning period, so he is alone in the classroom. He planned it all out. Something quick and painless, he would simply go to sleep in his chair.
The needle in his neck hurt like hell, so did the liquid going in. He leaned back in his chair and got comfortable staring at the ceiling. His vision started going blurry before he saw everything clear as day. It was his normal routine. He got out of the car in the driveway, Kuro was running to greet him after seeing him in the window. He picked her up and smothered her in kisses. He saw you, standing on the porch holding your new son waiting to give him his kiss.
In another life, you and your children were brutally murdered by curses. This life though, this life is perfect and he wouldn't change a damn thing.
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i-can-even-burn-salad · 4 months
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Happy STS Elli!
What inspires you to write? Are there things that you know that you can get inspiration from or does it just come randomly?
Happy STS!
For me, inspiration doesn't mean "to write".
There are, and always have been, a lot of stories floating around in my mind - ideas, scenes, vibes, outlines. I get inspiration from literally everywhere, from talking to my friends, and video games, and scrolling past images or prompts, and reading books, and spending too much time on reddit, and…
Many remain daydreams, or character backstories, eventually lost to time.
Now for actually being able to sit my ass down and get words on the page? I don't know. It comes and goes as it pleases. Having a beehive where a brain should be does NOT help, let me tell you that.
I just. Can't focus on shit lately. Can barely make it through a chapter when reading. Every day is just suddenly over, and I got nothing done, and I am so tired. I have a completely outlined short thing I have been trying to write since Nov, and it's like pulling teeth.
I could do with several months off work while everyone leaves me the fuck alone. How would that be.
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juicezone · 8 months
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mmgngmmg
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roaringheat · 1 year
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I was really productive today and i'm trying to be proud of myself but theres nothing like being reminded by my family that they consider me lesser and an after thought to kill my mood and motivation
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sysig · 2 years
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I didn't know abt the tumblr detox you're doing until now, but I hugely respect it. I was experiencing similar stuff, and actually wound up deleting my tumblr bc of it, for better or worse. You talking about how tumblr is temporary made me think though, i would be so sad if one day i wasn't able to see all your beautiful art. Your Vargas stuff especially has been a huge and much needed source of joy for me since i found it last year. Do you put all of your art anywhere more permanent online?
I can only guess this is about my blog cleaning? Although I’m not deleting any of the original stuff I’ve posted, so maybe my existentialism? All of them feel far away now lol, sorry I'm not Entirely sure what you're referring to haha
I am glad to have been able to provide some comfort and joy with my art, that makes me happy to hear ♥ I hope it continues to!
For better or worse, as you said, tumblr is my main social media at the moment - even the little bits of Vargas and other art that I’ve uploaded to DA have been cherry-picked out from the main sets, so not everything gets crossposted. Also, I’m sure you’ve noticed but I have a kind of daunting backlog, so every time I try to catch up I just feel like I’ve fallen further and further behind haha
The sad reality is, the internet is impermanent. Putting my faith into any one site is just asking for trouble *cough* because who’s to say it’ll be there tomorrow? And crossposting to other websites to try and diversify my odds feels like an uphill battle that only gets worse the longer I go without it and I just end up spiralling lol
Make no mistake, I don’t plan on leaving this hellsite anytime soon! I have no intentions of deleting any of my blogs, and I keep backups should the worst happen - I’m not going anywhere fast lol
All that said, the most reliable places that I’ve been uploading to/looking into have been my Patreon, where allllll my doodles from the last couple years are hosted, unedited, even the ones I scrapped haha, though without my usual commentary. I’ve made plans to add more to my backlog, should there be an interest for it. I’ve also been looking into neocities which has very much withstood the test of time, although I’m still extremely new to it, so don’t expect anything there for a while. I’m always open to suggestions too!
So yes, I’ve got other sites that I frequent, but none to the level of completeness that I’ve got over here. It’s been on my mind, believe you me, to start making a more comprehensive list of “Also find me here!”, I just get easily distracted and disheartened by how much work it’s going to be haha
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foldingfittedsheets · 5 months
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Buckle up for another unhinged story time. Now, as I’ve said before, I used to work at a sex shop. At one point I had three roommates and we all worked the same dildo slinging retail job and lived together. It was extremely sitcom.
Now, as you’d imagine, living with three other people who also talked about sex toys all day created a microcosm of people who were all extremely comfortable around sex toys and related topics. No one left dirty toys laying around but seeing things left in showers or showing off a new purchase was just a Tuesday.
After some life upheavals I ended up living with one of those roommates again, just me and her. For the sake of this story let’s call her Betty. Betty and I shared a two bedroom, and the layout was all the common spaces were an open floor plan and then one hallway formed a T, with my room and bathroom to the left and Betty’s to the right.
Well, one day my cousin calls me up. He’s coming to town for a visit and I offer to put up him, his wife, and their more… sheltered friend. (Unbeknownst to me there was a full Briefing for this girl before she met me so that I didn’t overwhelm her with my blasé attitudes towards- well, most things).
They drove in from two states over and it was a long drive. I had to work and couldn’t greet them or spend the first day together. So I told them to come grab my key so they could all shower off and settle in before me.
I arrived home later that night and found the atmosphere a little awkward at first. Things quickly warmed up and I charmed their friend, impressing my cousin with my immaculate respect for personal comfort levels. We had a lovely evening. By the time we all said goodnight I’d dismissed the initial tension as being tired after a long drive.
The next day we all decided to go to the zoo. I’m a morning shower person, but I let them go first while I made breakfast. After breakfast it was my turn and I hopped in the shower.
Midway through my eyes fixed on it. A little pink sex toy, sitting brazenly on the rim of the tub. Oh no, I thought. This was why things had been awkward yesterday! I left out a personal object because I’d literally forgotten to ever put them away by that point.
What I felt wasn’t embarrassment per se, because that emotion had been utterly eradicated by that point. Rather it was a deep shame that I’d leave out something that might make a guest feel uncomfortable. They told me their friend was sheltered and I had left out a sex toy, it was the epitome of rudeness!
I rejoined everyone and said, “I am so sorry! I didn’t realize I’d left that in the shower, that was so rude of me!”
My guests all exchanged a Look. I looked from my cousin to his wife, she glanced toward their friend, and their friend looked at my cousin. No one would look at me.
“Well…” my cousin finally said, “you didn’t tell us which room was yours yesterday.”
I blinked in confusion, Betty’s room and bathroom were basically just like mine.
“When we got here,” his wife continued, “we went to the other side first. In Betty’s bathroom.”
Reader, Betty’s bathroom.
Had been absolutely covered in dildos. Sex toys of all shapes and sizes covered every flat surface, the tub rim, the sink, the shelves. Wall to wall sex toys. Apparently Betty was doing a spring cleaning and had left her entire extensive collection out to air dry.
These three weary travelers had opened a door to the dildo dimension and had no idea how to react. To this day I have no idea what context clues they used to figure out Betty’s room from mine.
But when I’d come home they were lost in the sex toy shell shock, presumably wondering how they could ever talk about it with someone who felt it was okay to leave out every sex toy they own when expecting company in some kind of bizarre power play.
By the time they finished telling me about this we were all laughing so hard we were in tears.
“When we saw your bathroom with one little pink toy it was so discreet we didn’t even care!” They told me.
After my cousin and his crew had gone on their way I finally told Betty the whole story. She listened with eyes growing wider and wider and finally burst out, “That’s why they were so weird when I got home!!”
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the pro
part ii: what we're willing to accept
Pairing: Art Donaldson x Reader
Rating: Explicit - 18+ only. minors, please get off my lawn.
Notes: My brain chose violence this morning. Not beta-read because when is it ever.
Length: 4.8K
Warnings: Slow burn; unhappily married reader; divorced Art Donaldson; infidelity; oral sex (female receiving); vaginal sex; unsafe sex
Summary: Every lesson becomes an exercise in self-control. You force yourself to try, really try, and not make silly mistakes for the sake of Art coming closer, grasping your arm or elbow, pressing close and redirecting your swing. You don’t know what you crave more these days: his praise or his touch.
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He's the biggest men's tennis star since Andy Roddick.
That’s what your husband says, as if it’ll entice you. As if you know anything about tennis, about the pro that your husband says will be coming to the house to teach you to play.
It’ll be good for you. You need a hobby. 
You don’t gripe or argue. You don’t tell him that five months into your marriage shouldn’t have you looking for a new hobby. You should still be in the honeymoon stage, spending all of your time with him, hanging off of his arm, off of his every word. But he works so much and he’s away so often—
I don’t want you to get bored. 
It’s a sweet gesture. The maid handles the housework; you have a chef that handles most of the grocery shopping and cooking, unless you insist on making something yourself; you have a housekeeper that arranges for anything you need—dry cleaning, maintenance. And it’s no wonder that with all of his money, his power, he can just order a retired pro tennis player up to your house, like you’d order a pizza. There’s a tennis court in the back of the mansion, a few feet from the pool. You’ll get some new outfits, the best sneakers, the nicest rackets. You’ll finally have something to do to fill your days. 
Art Donaldson. 
You know his name before the lean, fair-skinned patrician man turns up at your front door. He trails you through the house, politely declines your offer of a beverage. 
“You ever played tennis before?” He asks. 
You haven’t. Before your husband arranged this for you, you hadn’t so much as given the sport more than a passing thought. You don’t have the heart or confidence to tell that to a man that’s made tennis his whole life, so you just give him a small, guilty smile and say no, you haven’t. He nods, waves you off, insists that it’s fine. 
“We’ll start with the basics.” 
-- 
Two months of lessons on the basics make your arms tired, and your hands sore. But where your swings are clumsy and your grip is weak at first, you can see improvement in the way that you move. Your steps are less clumsy when you go after a ball; you’re more aware of the service line and the base line; your forehand stroke from contact to your left shoulder is smoother; your rotation and follow-through on your backhand is coming along, but has a long way to go. 
Art’s instruction is calm and steady. He explains technique as much as he demonstrates it. When you get something wrong, he doesn’t scold, just lightly corrects. When you do something well, his encouragement is constant and free-flowing. Every accurate move and motion is met with, “Nice,” or, “Perfect,” or, “That’s it.” 
On the days when you don’t have a lesson with Art, you practice. You order a tennis ball machine to work on your forehand and backhand. You attempt (and fail) to learn how to slice on your own. You try anyway—you can only imagine the way his eyes might light up if you manage to surprise him. 
You’ve tried to ignore the rising interest that you have in Art, but you can’t help the little…Crush that’s developed. He’s just so attentive, and kind. When you find yourself smiling these days, it’s often because of something that he said, or did. You can’t remember the last time your husband made you feel giddy this way. It was probably when you started dating—before you’d made the decision to marry for comfort, rather than love. Your husband is practical, rarely physically affectionate, more heavily involved in his job and social circles than with you. 
But you’ll have to find a way to thank him. He’s given you a hobby, and a man that grins at you like you just painted the goddamn Mona Lisa when you serve your first ace. 
-- 
“So, tell me about the Mark Rebellato Academy.” 
Art smiles, dipping his head as he reaches for his coffee. It’s taken a few months, but you finally convince him to have something to drink with you after practice. Your chef is blessedly out shopping for ingredients for dinner, so you have the kitchen all to yourself. Art has watched you putter around, seeming surprised that you know where everything is. You can’t blame him; the kitchen is chef-grade, and you don’t cook much these days. 
“Did your husband tell you that’s where I went?” 
“No.” 
“Then how do you know?” 
You’re too embarrassed to admit that you’ve done some googling, and watched a couple of clips of him interviewing before and after his matches. 
“I’ve just heard,” You fib. “Tell me about it?” 
He leans back in his seat, eyes skating across your face as he seems to consider something. 
“What do you wanna know?” 
“Did you enjoy it? I mean—” It feels like a dumb question once it’s out, and you hurry to redirect, “With what you know now, if you had the choice, would you have learned how to play tennis somewhere else?” 
He considers for a moment, trailing his finger over the side of his cup. Your gaze flits to his fingers, and your own flex around your mug handle. You’ve spent far too much time looking at and thinking about Art’s fingers—their length and quickness; the slight roughness of his calloused hands; the lingering tan line from where his wedding band used to sit. 
“Yeah,” He admits, drawing your full attention back to his face. “I would. It was foundational, you know. I’ve been thinking of sending Lily there.” 
“Lily?” 
A bittersweet smile twists his lips. “My daughter.” 
“Oh!” It catches you off-guard.  
“Tashi, uh—” He clears his throat, “Lily’s mother, my ex-wife. She and I are thinking about schools.” 
“I’m sure they’d be glad to have her. Does she play tennis?” 
“Little bit. She didn’t start until last year, but she's a natural.” He clears his throat again, presses, “Are you and your husband planning on having kids?” 
“Oh god no.” You blurt it out, and realize as he raises his brows that you’ve spoken too quickly. You lean back in your seat, stirring your coffee quickly to distract yourself from your growing embarrassment. “He actually has kids already. Two girls, seven and ten. They’re at boarding school and they stay with their mother when they're on vacation. I haven’t gotten to spend much time with them.” 
“...He seems to be pretty busy.” 
“He is.” 
“So it’s just you in this big house?” He tips his head to the side, brows knitting with curiosity. “What do you do all day?” 
“Play tennis.”
He grins, chuckling, and your stomach flips at the sound. 
“It shows, you know,” He says. 
“What do you mean?” 
“I can tell you’re practicing without me. And,” He leans across the table, running his fingers lightly over the exposed skin of your bicep, “You’re getting stronger.” 
You wonder if he can see or feel the goosebumps that break out across your skin at the gentle sweep, his gaze heavy on yours.
“I have a good teacher,” You murmur. Art’s lips twitch with a soft smile, his hand gently cupping your arm. 
“Just good?” He plies. 
“The best. A real pro.” 
His smile widens, and the flash of his tongue sweeping across his lower lip makes your face go hot. You know that you’re caught when Art’s touch becomes firmer, pulling your arm toward him just a little. 
The sound of approaching footsteps startles you, and you hurriedly tug your arm away. The sight of your husband makes your heart leap into your throat. 
“There you are,” He smiles. “Art, how’s she doin’?” 
“She’s killing it.” 
You don’t dare look at him, but you can feel the weight of his attention lingering on you still. You just give your husband a smile, tipping your cheek up obligingly as he leans down to kiss it. 
“Actually, Art,” Your husband straightens up, hands resting on your shoulders. “I’m glad I caught you. There’s a charity event for a local club this month. It’s for uh…What is it?” He squeezes your shoulders for answers, and you have to keep from rolling your eyes. 
“It’s a charity tennis match to raise funds to fix up the local courts. They need resurfacing and they’re raising funding to keep the fees down.” 
“We could use a sponsorship from the foundation,” Your husband adds. 
“Honey,” You glance back, wary of insulting Art. But—
“I’ll do it,” Art agrees. “Send me the details.” 
“Excellent,” Your husband grins. “Maybe we could coax you into a match or two.” 
You don’t chastise him this time—not when you see something light up in Art.
“Maybe.” 
--  
You haven’t seen Art play before. You’ve specifically avoided it. You’ve known that when you saw it, you would be too intimidated to do a damn thing on the court with him. But now, you can’t stop watching him. You don’t even care that you probably look so out of place—where everyone else is watching the ball, you’re just watching him. 
His movements are so neat, so precise. It’s like watching a dance. He’s running the poor guy on the other side of the net up and down the court. And the sounds that he’s making—god. Every little grunt and groan is weaving increasingly filthy thoughts in your mind. You already know that you’ll seek out the memory of those sounds, as you reach between your legs later. His shirt clings to his chest, showcasing the muscles that you’ve always suspected he has. Strands of hair plaster to his forehead as sweat drips over his cheekbones, down the bridge of his nose, over his jaw. 
When he scores a match point and he looks toward the cheering crowd—when his eyes land on you instantly, without having to search—it’s like you’ve been hit by a bolt of lightning. You can’t think, or move. You barely have the focus to applaud, but you manage to raise your hands and clap. 
-- 
Every lesson becomes an exercise in self-control. You force yourself to try, really try, and not make silly mistakes for the sake of Art coming closer, grasping your arm or elbow, pressing close and redirecting your swing. You don’t know what you crave more these days: his praise or his touch. 
Coffee becomes a post-lesson ritual. He starts to stick closer and closer to you as he follows you into the house until he begins to rest his hand on your lower back, guiding you to your door. He keeps nearby when you’re making it, brushes droplets of sweat off of your forehead or neck. Every touch is electrifying; you have to make a concentrated effort to keep your hands steady, your face neutral as your heart pounds and your stomach floods with butterflies. 
He pushes you harder on the court, and you force yourself to meet the level that he sets for you, even when you don’t feel confident in it. But you want to make him proud. 
It spurs you to lunge a little too far. 
The sharp stabbing pain in your left ankle makes you shriek, and you tumble to the ground, dropping the racket with a clatter. You hear the pounding of his feet, glance up just in time to see him clear the net before he’s on the ground at your side. 
“What hurts?” 
“My ankle,” You grit out, hissing softly as he helps you straighten your leg out. He smooths his hands over your calf, leaning over you and gently guiding your foot in a few different directions. You whimper as he starts to guide your foot to the left. 
“Okay, okay,” He soothes, “Let’s get you inside.” 
For as much as you damn the throbbing in your ankle, you thank it a little, too. You lean heavily against Art, making the slow, arduous journey back to the house with his arm wrapped tightly around your middle. 
When your husband comes home, he finds you with on the couch with Art coming back in from the kitchen, an ice pack in your hand. 
You’d hope for concern, but your husband frowns, glances at the swelling knob of your ankle, and simply asks: “What did you do?” 
“She lost her balance.” Art sits down on the other end of the couch, soothing you as the chill of the ice pack makes you shift with discomfort. 
“Are you going to be able to walk tomorrow?” Your husband presses. “We have dinner at the Fineman’s.”
“I'm still going, don't worry about that."
“...Tomorrow might be a bit soon,” Art warns. 
“I’ll be okay. It’s just a sprain, right?” You tip your brows up, hoping, praying that he’ll agree for your sake. His fingers flex around the ice pack, jaw ticking as he clenches it. He doesn’t say a word as your husband sighs heavily, grumbles, “I hope so. Still, we should put a pause on the lessons until she’s fighting fit again.” 
Art finally tears his eyes from yours, a tight smile on his lips. 
“Of course.” 
-- 
“How’s the ankle?” 
It takes you a moment to scrounge up an answer. You can’t believe that he called. You knew that Art had gotten your number when you started taking lessons with him, but he’s never used it beyond texting to confirm a lesson time now and again. 
You look down at the still-swollen flesh as it strains against the thin strap of your slingbacks. 
“Fine,” You lie, “It’s um—” You glance over your shoulder, listening for your husband. “It’s not that bad.” 
“Good enough to walk on?” 
Hardly. 
“Yes.” You think you’ve gotten away with it, but when you hear Art sigh and chastise, “You should rest,” You know that you haven’t.
“I have,” You insist, “All day.” 
“Are you sure you’re alright?” 
“Yes.” 
“You can tell him no, you know.”
Your mouth works wordlessly, body going hot with indignation. You can’t think of a thing to say. You can’t tell him that he’s wrong, that your husband’s connections are the lifeblood of his business. You can’t tell him that if your husband’s business falls apart, you won't be able to afford those tennis lessons, and then how the hell are you supposed to see Art again? 
You just yank your phone away from your ear and hang up. 
-- 
I invited Art. 
It shouldn’t be a surprise, but your husband’s statement makes you feel like you’ve swallowed your tongue. You haven’t seen or spoken to Art in nearly two weeks. Your doctor recommended putting off any physical activity, which your husband surely relayed to him. He was the one whose name was on Art’s checks, after all. 
Your husband has always thrown a massive party to kick off the summer. Every year, 150 of your husband’s closest family, friends, and business associates flooded into the house. It shouldn’t be such a surprise that your husband invited Art after the performance he had given at the fundraiser—$25,000 from the foundation, and ticket sales went through the roof when it had been announced that the Art Donaldson would be making an appearance. Your husband owed Art a lot, and probably saw this as an opportunity for him to network, to take on more clients. He had been evangelizing Art’s training to any of your friends that would listen—how good you are on the court, how engaged and energetic you seem to be these days. 
It’s one thing to know that you’ll have to put on a happy face for the crowd, but to know that Art will be among them makes your insides twist with nerves. You can’t stop thinking about the way that he had spoken to you when you were hurt; his calm, steadying demeanor as he’d gotten you inside; the careful coaxing and gentle touch that he’d used as he’d taken your shoe off and examined your ankle more closely. 
You think about it now, as you strap on another pair of heels. Your ankle really is doing well, though you have a little lingering pain in shoes like these. You’ll likely be on your feet for the length of the party; it’s going to be a long night. You look over yourself in the mirror, self consciously tipping your ankle from side to side for anything that he may spot or catch out. But there’s nothing, you reassure yourself. You slide your hands over the skirt, plastering on a smile as your husband pokes his head into your dressing room. 
“Almost ready in here?” He asks. 
“All set!” 
-- 
He doesn’t come over to you. On the crowded patio, you can feel him watching you—you’ve gotten so used to seeking out the sensation that you can’t ignore it now. The first true look at him is agony. He watches you from just a few feet away, a glass of champagne in hand as he speaks with your husband and the Finemans. He openly looks you over, eyes drifting over your body to the flash of ankle revealed by the slit in your dress. He tips his head to the side just a little, squinting before his eyes flit back up to your face, lips twitching with a small smile. 
You want to hate how good it feels; you want to be angry with him for his smug knowing, his insistence of You can tell him no, you know. But it feels so goddamn good to have his attention again that you can’t bring yourself to be annoyed. You know that you’re staring—that you both are—and you force yourself to turn away and excuse yourself from the conversation you’re in. You go inside, murmuring your thanks for the waitstaff that pass you along the way.
The house isn’t nearly as busy as the patio, and you're able to slip into your darkened study unnoticed. You leave the lights off, certain that if you turn them on, people will be drawn in to bug you, like moths to a flame. The party’s lights and music filter in through the partially-closed blinds. 
You lean against the desk, circling your ankle and wincing a little. You’ll hide for a few minutes, let it rest—
Your breath catches in your throat as the door opens. You expect your husband, ready to scold and usher you back to the guests. 
You only have a second to get a look at Art before he shuts the door behind himself, plunging the room back into darkness. Your fingers tighten around the edge of the desk as you use it to ground yourself. 
“...Do you need something?” You ask, voice wobbling with nerves. 
“Wanted to come say hi.” 
“Well. Hi.” 
You hear him chuckle, his footsteps muted by the carpet. 
“Thanks for the invite.” 
“It wasn’t my idea.” It’s not polite to admit, but you want it to sting him, just a little. Maybe it does; in the dim of the room, you can’t see Art’s expression as he comes to a stop just a couple of feet from you. 
“Do you want me to go?” He asks. You know what you should say, but you can’t bring yourself to say it. 
“No,” You whisper. You feel the heat of him as he comes closer, his hands resting on the desk and caging you in. You bite your lip as gently brushes his nose against yours. 
“He isn’t taking care of you.” 
“My ankle is fine.” 
“I’m not talking about your ankle.” He lifts a hand, smoothing it over your hip as your breath mingles. Art’s fingers drift from your hip to stroke over the apex of your dress’s slit. His fingers slip further down, and you nod as he palms your thigh. Before you can say or do a thing, Art sinks to his knees. He curls his hand around your left calf, lifting it. You shiver as his lips press a gentle kiss to your ankle. His hand and lips travel up, easing the fabric of your dress higher with each second. The first brush of his knuckles against your panty-covered clit makes you jolt. Your hands dig into the wood of the desk as his fingers hook between the fabric and your skin. You lift your hips without a word, allowing him to draw them down. 
Art presses a kiss to your mound before he lowers his head, giving your lips a sweet, sucking kiss. You gasp softly as his tongue swipes across your clit. You look down despite the fact that you can’t see him well. You can just make out his blissful expression, his eyes closed as his laps broadly across your aching cunt. You lower your hand to his neat hair, winding your fingers through it, unable to help grasping it. His heady moan vibrates against you and you nearly cry out at the sensation. You manage to just catch it, the sound dying in your throat as Art buries his tongue inside you. He sweeps his thumb over your clit in rush, harried circles, panting against your heated flesh. You rock your hips down against his lips, tightening your grip on his hair as you guide him. He lets you do as you please, whining against your skin as your movements become less controlled.
“Art,” You warn, “I—Oh, oh god—” 
He hums in encouragement, sucking your clit back between his lips and lashing it with his tongue. Your jaw drops open, your hand shoving Art even more tightly against your skin as you cum suddenly. A stunned, breathy moan slips from your lips as Art leans back, smearing his lips against the inside of your thigh. 
You use your grasp on Art’s hair to draw him back up off of his knees, giving him a crushing kiss as he catches his balance. You swipe your tongue across his lips, whining against his lips as you taste yourself on him. He presses close, his hard cock straining against the fabric of his pants. You reach down, palming and squeezing his length as you trade slick, messy kisses. He steers you back onto the desk as you fumble to undo his belt, button, and zip. 
“Condom?” He asks. 
“Pill,” You reassure, shoving his pants down. You lap broadly across your palm, grasping Art’s length and guiding him closer. He brushes the tip of his cock against your still-throbbing clit, smiling as you whine. You’re going to ache tomorrow, but you’ve never been so happy to be sore.
“Art.” 
“Sssh.” 
“Please—” It’s hardly out of your mouth before he shoves his hips forward, seating himself fully with a single thrust. You bite down on your lip to quiet your moan, curling your arms around your shoulders. He rocks into you with firm, quick strokes, his mouth covering yours. You can hear things on the desk rattling with each thrust, kisses growing less controlled as he hoists your thigh up around his hip. 
“Oh, god,” You breathe, “We have to be quick—He’ll come looking—” 
“Not until you cum for me again,” He urges. “I need to feel it, sweetheart.” 
“Art—” 
“When’s the last time he did this? Hmm?” He presses, “When’s the last time he made you cum? When’s the last time he tasted you?” 
“Never,” You admit with a shiver. It seems to renew Art’s passion, his thrusts and hold growing more intense. You squeeze your eyes shut, hands hooking tightly in the fabric of his jacket. He yanks the front of your dress down, bowing over you and drawing one of your nipples between his lips. You whimper as he toys with the bud, tugging it gently with his teeth before swiping across it. You arch into the slick heat, using your leg to tug him even closer as you chased the swelling curl of your orgasm. 
“Just like that,” You urge, “Ffffuck—yes, yesyesyesyes—”
Your eyes squeeze shut as your hips buck down against his, pussy pulsing as he spills into you. Your heart pounds in your chest as the two of you slow and still. Art rests his forehead heavily against your neck, peppering gentle kisses across the exposed skin. You have to move—now. You don’t know if anyone heard you, but if someone did, you’re screwed. If no one did, your husband will probably be looking for you anyway, ready with a scold for neglecting your hostess duties. 
“...I have to go,” You warn softly. It takes Art a moment to move, but he does, gently drawing himself back from your still-throbbing cunt. You hear the clanking of his belt buckle as he tucks himself away, and you reach down, righting your dress where it’s been pulled away. You take up your panties from where they’d been discarded on the floor, tugging them on before you straighten your skirt and hurry out of the room. 
--  
“Can I see you?” 
It’s only been an hour since the last guest has left, and you are so, so fucking tired. You glance toward the bathroom door. You know that you locked it, and you’re certain that your husband can’t hear you over the shower running, but you can’t help but be paranoid.
“You just saw me,” You remind him. 
“Tomorrow,” Art clarifies. 
“Where?” 
“I’ll send an address.” 
You bite your lip, toying with your earring. Your pussy is still aching from the stretch of him, your ass sore from getting fucked on the desk. 
“...You regret it?” He asks. 
“No,” You don't give your answer a second thought.
“I’ll send an address. Whether or not you see me is up to you. Just…think about it. Okay?” 
“Okay.” 
You lower your phone, hanging it up and watching his contact information blink away. It’s only a moment before a text with an address lights up your phone. You don’t have to think about it. You already know what you’re going to do. 
--  
You know that you’re staring, but you can’t bring yourself to stop. Art has spent so much time in your home, so you feel entitled to look around a little bit. You eye the row of trophies on his mantle, photos of him playing when he was young. You come to a stop at a picture of him with a young girl, a racket in her hand and a medal around her neck. 
“Is this Lily?” You ask. 
“Yeah,” He nods. “First competition.” 
“Already getting gold,” You smile. “The Mark Rebellato Academy isn’t ready for her.” 
Art chuckles, nodding as he steps around you.
“You, uh…You want something to eat, or drink, or…?” He trails off, tucking his hands into his pockets as he takes a couple of steps back toward his kitchen. You turn to face him, taking him in more fully. 
“Art?” 
“Yeah?” 
“Why am I here?” 
He doesn’t answer for a few moments. You can see him weighing his options before he comes closer. 
“I…I’ve been thinking about last night.” 
Fear shoots through you, but you force yourself to stand tall. “Okay.”
“I could lie and tell you that it should be a one-time thing, but I can’t remember the last time I got through a day without thinking about you. And I think you’ve been thinking about me, too.” Art stops as the tip of his shoes brush against yours, and you let your eyes slip closed as he rests his forehead against yours. 
“Tell me I’m wrong,” He pleads. “Tell me to fuck off right now and I will never say another non-tennis related thing to you again.” 
-- 
When he fucks you, he curls close, chest pressing against yours as he catches your lips in a kiss. You sink back against his pillows, your head cradled by his broad palm as he rolls his hips achingly slowly. You don’t bother to hide your whines and moans, and you revel in his. Every grunt and whimper and groan that Art lets out lights you up. 
And when you cum, you don't have to quiet yourself. His name tumbles out of your mouth, cushioned between expletives as your nails dig into his shoulders.
--
"What time is he home tonight?"
You don't want to think about it. You want to stay in this cozy little bubble, trailing your fingers over his muscled chest as he massages your nape and kisses your forehead.
But you know that you'll have to let the world back in sometime.
"I don't know," You admit. "Late."
"...Could stay."
"He'll be suspicious if I'm not home when he gets there."
Art sighs softly, running his hand down to rub between your shoulder blades.
"This isn't going to be easy, is it."
"What?"
"Letting you go every day."
"Every day?" You tease, pushing yourself up to get a better look at him. "Don't get greedy, Mr. Donaldson."
He smiles, raising his hand and cupping your cheek. "Is it greedy to know what I want?"
You shake your head a little, lowering your lips to brush against his.
"Not when I want it, too."
part ii: what we're willing to accept
Tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @amneris21
@ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage​​​ ;  @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity
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saudadeko · 8 months
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ADHD tips from a girlie who was diagnosed in her late twenties and has had little to no support since and is being so brave about it:
1) Make it easy, make it accessible, and make it appealing. If anything this is the most important thing, all tips going forward are based around this concept.
2) That thing you think would help you but you haven’t bought/done it yet because you’re technically surviving without it? Buy it, you need it. It doesn’t matter if people around you might think it’s wasteful or that you’re lazy, you’re not, just do it, trust me.
3) Expanding on tip #2, if you’re like me and eggs are your main source of protein because they’re quick and easy and feeding yourself is a near insurmountable task- buy yourself an electric egg cooker, make a bunch of hard boiled eggs and keep them in your fridge for quick and easy protein to add to any meal (handful of crackers, a hard boiled egg and a banana? 5 star meal right there. Or mash them up with some mayo for egg salad sandwiches). Other easy proteins include: potstickers (put them in instant ramen), edamame (they have microwaveable snack packs), chickpeas (put in salads!), beans (can of beans microwaved with shredded cheese and some tortilla chips), peanut butter (with crackers, apple and cheese, adult lunchable style), and tofu (cut into cubes, throw them into a ziplock with some seasoning and potato starch, shake that shit up and bake it until crispy).
4) Spend a little extra (if you are able) on daily use items that excite you, it will make you more likely to remember/want to do said daily task. For example: the only reason I remember to use sunscreen is because I bought some fancy japanese sunscreen that smells like roses so I get excited to use it, same for laundry detergent and body wash! there’s a gajillion different body wash scents out there, switch it up!
5) If there’s a task you continuously struggle with take a moment to think about which part of the task is making it difficult, it could be something even as small as “I don’t put my dirty clothes in the hamper because my hamper has a lid on it and lifting the lid is one step too many-”, sounds a little stupid huh? But trust your gut, it’s not stupid if it works. See tip #2 and BUY A HAMPER WITHOUT A LID.
6) If you are having trouble starting a task, break the task down further, sometimes the way I start a task is just by going “Ok step 1) stand up-“ and so forth. Don’t worry about the task as a whole just take it one step at a time.
7) If you’re halfway through a task and have to stop, leave it out. All this, “Put things away when you’re done with them.” is bullshit. you will be much more likely to finish the task if restarting it is easier because you left it out plus it’s a visual reminder. You can also create faux deadlines like “I gotta finish this project before my friend comes over on tuesday because after I finish it I can clean off the dinner table.” etc.
8) It’s okay to outsource tasks and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, humans are designed to ask for, and to require help (what do babies do when they’re first born?? cry for help!!) ask for help and receive help without shame, if it makes your life better, you are WINNING.
9) If you have one big overwhelming task that you think you need to get done before anything else, but you feel motivated to do other tasks, do those other tasks first, it’s okay. Otherwise in all likelihood (at least in my case) you’ll put everything off until the last minute and then have to do said overwhelming task and those other tasks won’t get done at all. Doing those smaller tasks also lowers the mental load and you can use them as a motivation launch pad to tackle bigger things.
10) If you notice you tend to not put something away/forget to do something, perhaps consider moving and storing the item closer to where it ultimately ends up or where you are more likely to see it. For example, my makeup, pills, and mail are all stored on my desk because that’s where I tend to do my makeup, take my pills and deal with my mail. I used to store my pills in my bathroom medicine cabinet but all too often I would forget because they weren’t in my line of sight. Now that they’re on my desk, I have multiple chances per day to pass by them, go “oh I gotta take those.” and take them.
11) Open storage, open storage, OPEN STORAGE.
12) Motivation can look like all kinds of things. sometimes the only reason I get out of bed is because I remember I have a fun snack and I get to go eat it if I get up. It’s okay to lean into those simple “animal-brain” type motivators, you’ll eat because then you can use that fun new kitchen gadget you got a daiso? Neat. you’ll shower because then you can paint your nails that fun new color you got? Fantastic. You’ll go to the dmv and do that annoying thing because you’ll take yourself out for boba after? Superb. Lean-IN to those small motivators, they aren’t stupid or childish, they are VITAL.
13) Don’t buy into the cult of “if it’s worth doing, do it properly” it’s guaranteed to set you up for failure. If it’s worth doing, do it in whatever capacity you are able to. I put sunscreen on once a day because that’s fucking better than not doing it at all and I sure as all hell will fail at reapplying it multiple times a day. If it’s worth doing, do it half-assed babieeee.
Go forth and prosper!!! xoxo ✌️🩵
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chososdiscordkitten · 2 months
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Keep Them On!
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Synopsis: jjk men x reader w glasses ^-^ (yes they stay on during sex)
Includes: : 𝐍𝐚𝐨𝐲𝐚, 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨, 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨, 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢, 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢, 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈𝐣𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢 Content: gn!reader, smut with a sprinkle of fluff, no plot, penetrative sex, cum play, oral (m), glasses kink(?)
MDNI
Naoya Zenin
Naoya is so mean when it comes to your glasses. At first, he was generally mean—pushing them up the bridge of your nose harshly when they would slip or hiding them whenever you made some kind of retort at him that he didn’t like. 
Most of all, Naoya didn’t like it when he would say something you deemed ‘controversial,’ and you would take your glasses off in the middle of the conversation. Muttering something about how you didn’t want to see his face anymore. 
So the next time your glasses were pressed against his face- lips slotted against each other and the plastic frames only making him more frustrated. Naoya pulled away from you, urging your head down to imply that he wanted oral. (yes he's a head pusher)
And when your hands reached for the little legs of your spectacles- Naoya sucked his teeth. Nodding his head ‘no’ and freeing his cock from his bottoms.
Muttering something along the lines of ‘I want you to see as best as you can.’ with far too much smugness coating his words with the very tip of his cock smeared against the clean glass with an amused laugh. 
You scoffed as you felt Naoya slap his tip against the side of your cheek- urging you to open. 
You were on your knees, between his legs, as he sat lazily on the couch, with one hand atop your head and the other wrapped around his base.
And when your lips finally had his tummy clenching, his eyebrows furrowed, and his head daring to tip back. Teetering on the very edge of an orgasm, Naoya pulled your lips off of his cock. 
Your eyebrows furrowed, knowing he had a penchant for seeing you swallow his mess. Then it clicked when his hand started making filthy strokes at his cock- aiming his tip directly for the glass lenses with a smile.  
His spend coating your glasses with a groaning huff from your lips. His only excuse was, “What? You were the one who said you didn’t wanna see me.” 
When he saw the sight of the glossy frames being spurt by his cum- Naoya was sure to ask you for blowjobs with them on from now on. 
Even if you spent the next 30 minutes complaining about how hard they were to clean- and how he was just being a brat. Naoya could always get you new glasses- or, as he put it. “Stop being blind, and you won’t need them.”
Satoru Gojo
From the moment Gojo found out you had glasses, he would make little comments about them. Not mean- just strange little statements that would leave his lips without filter. 
When you would refuse to wear them in public- squinting at everything and holding onto his arm as a guide. Gojo would tell you to put them on, that you look even hotter with them. At once, even calling you a sexy librarian. 
His own way of assuring you that a pair of glasses didn’t change anything to him. 
He found it funny that he had perfect vision- almost too perfect, and you. Well, you needed pieces of glass to see or you would get dizzy.
In his mind, Satoru interpreted that as ‘I cover my eyes because I get sick if I don’t- and you wear glasses or else you get dizzy, another thing we have in common.’ just more ramblings of a man who was utterly whipped. 
And this- well, it only translated to the bedroom activities. 
The first few times- you always made sure to take them off. Knowing how Satoru can be with his afflictions for various positions- you didn’t want to break them. Same when it went for oral; you always took them off before going down on him. 
And Satoru tried to get you to forget to take them off- be it interrupting when you’d try to catch up on work assignments, he would come in and distract you from them. 
He would win most of the time- but you always took them off. Didn’t matter how pent up you or him were, you always did. 
And the one time you chose to forget- too tired and completely uncaring if they stayed on while Gojo’s warmth kept you under the covers with him. Even if all of Satoru’s insides were screaming at him to say ‘Yippee’ and start jumping up and down at the opportunity presented to him. He didn’t. 
Gojo went on about his tasks as he normally did- but when it came to spreading your thighs to welcome him, looking upon your framed eyes and smiling to himself at the little fog formed at the bottom from how heated your cheeks were. 
Even more when his thrusts became frantic- your head moving against the pillow and slightly moving the glasses on the bridge of your nose. 
And your hands were far too busy gripping on his arms- his hair, whatever part of his body you could find to help soothe the ache. Far too busy to fix the crooked lenses.
Gojo looked at you with the same look on his face he makes when he discovers something new he likes. A new flavor of candy, a song he liked the melody of- and now, the pretty whimpers leaving your lips, all topped off with your fogged, crooked glasses- only accentuating the fucked out expression you had. 
And when he rolled off of you, looking at your lazy hand, reach up to the frame and pull them off, your lashes wet with salty water and your cheeks still warm to the touch. 
Satoru made sure to ask you properly to keep them on next time- on his knees with his head bowed as though he was asking some colossal favor from you. 
You would only furrow your eyebrows with a slight grimace- knowing of all the strange things he could ask of you, this one was probably the most tame one.
Suguru Geto
Suguru starts off so sweet with you- brings them to you freshly cleaned whenever he sees you without them. Lightly scolding you- “You’ll only get blinder if you don’t wear them.” he would say- sliding the legs behind your ears and making sure you had them on properly.
He only found it even cuter when you would squint at something- unable to see correctly without them on. 
When it came to intimacy;
Geto made the discovery of your glasses being a turn on from the first few times he saw them fog up and slightly tilt to the side as he pounded them off. 
But- there was one thing Suguru did that was the slightest bit annoying. Sure, you could deal with his incessant words- urging you that it was fine and you didn’t have to take them off. Or when you would reach to remove them Suguru would replace your hands and push them back up on your nose for you.
How desperation fills your movements when you take them off- tossing them to god knows where before connecting your lips to his again. 
Unable to stand the little nudges the plastic made against Suguru, only seeing your glasses as an obstacle in the way of kissing him properly. 
Leading to finding the frames in the most strange of places- and most of all, once or twice finding them broken, bent- or even with a lens popped out, nowhere in sight. 
Or when you’d be in public and you’d look at him over the top of them- raising your brows with a questioning look on your face- it only reminded him when you would be giving him head and do the same thing. 
He tries not to make a mess on them- he tries his hardest to cum in your throat or on his tummy. But it’s almost like his cock and brain rewire at the last second and aim his cockhead for the glass. 
And Suguru’s thing for you in glasses was only intensified when you popped his cock from your lips- rubbing his shaft on your cheek with a fucked out smile. And his tip- nudging against the very bottom of your frames with every little stroke your hand made on his shaft. 
And when he finally spurt his mess- your lips parted and waited for Geto to take his aim. Hot spurts of white landing on your cheeks, your nose, your lips- but most of it was on the glass you used to see. 
What Suguru found most endearing- was when you would only smile and lick as much as you could from your lips. Not even complaining about his shitty aim. 
In the end it was just glass that could be replaced had you really wanted to. 
Toji Zenin
Toji swears he didn’t even notice you had them- he tried to convince you he had never noticed you needed glass to see. 
But he would do this thing- this particular thing that you had never noticed before. 
Be it when you’d be speaking- not noticing how his eyes would tighten, fixating on the little crook at the edge of your frames. 
Reaching a hand out and pushing them to sit correctly on the bridge of your nose. 
He had done it far too many times for you to ask what he was doing or why- so used to seeing his hand reach out to you that you never questioned it. 
Toji also had this urge when it came to intimacy- and you were always too fucked out to notice his little habit during sex. 
When you were on your back, your eyes closed and lightly covered by fog on the glass. The frames slightly tilted to one side as his eyes looked at your expression. His hand would go up to your face with an indulgent smile on his lips. 
Fixing the little crook of your glasses before enjoying the sight before him again. 
And when you were on all fours- Toji was thankful to have a mirror in front of you, piercing eyes watching the frames dare to fall off with every powerful thrust he made against your bottom. 
Almost like he enjoyed watching them slip off- something about your fucked out expression adorned with a pair of crooked glasses, scratched at an itch in his brain he didn’t even know was there. 
Toji had never realized this before you—he didn’t know if it was you specifically or glasses in general. 
You always saw it as Toji showing his tenderness towards you- even if you were too busy focusing on other things to notice the little habit. 
It didn’t click in his mind till one day he was listening to you speak- far too tangled in his own thoughts trying to figure out what it was precisely. 
And then he thought back to the sight of you in the mirror. The look of complete and utter dissolution, as though you had finally let loose and released tension, that’s what he found satisfying. 
Associating glasses with some kind of intelligence- even if you weren’t the brightest crayon in the box at times. The frames made you look the tiniest bit more intelligent. Like you were well-read. 
And when he would fuck them right off of you- it seemed like he was fucking out any unnecessary fun fact you harbored in your brain.
With every roll of his hips- he would fuck you dumb, and continue till you were a blabbering mess, unable to see the satisfied look on his face in the mirror when they would fall off. 
Kento Nanami
Out of all the men- Kento would be the most respectful of your glasses. 
Not as though they were some kind of out of the ordinary trait you had than nobody else did. You just needed a little help to see is all. 
But Nanami would be lying had he said that the sight of you pushing your glasses up your head like a headband didn’t make something in him twitch. 
Be it how your eyes glimmer without the glass blocking them or how effortlessly radiant you look when you look at him without them.
Or when you would crawl between his legs and nudge the book he was reading to the side. Pressing the side of your face on his tummy and watching the frames move from the smush of your cheek. 
When he would roll over in the mornings and see your uncovered face. The bridge of your nose undented from the nose pads and the little creases of your eyes on full display so early in the morning. 
What he hated most was how the glass hid your eyes- even if they were clear. A glare here or there or a smudge would make your eyelashes go overlooked. 
Nanami understood that you needed them- that there was nothing he could do about it. He still liked looking at you with them on- but not as much as he liked seeing you without them. 
It was still you behind the glasses, after all. 
But when you would ask him to wait a moment- his hands wandering and gripping at any exposed skin they could find. His hips rested between your thighs. You would reach your hand from his hair- removing the glasses and placing them on your night table. 
Wasting no time in connecting your lips with his again. Mumbling that you wanted to see him with your bare eyes between every breath of air he took. 
This only gave Nanami the opportunity to keep his chest pressed against you- keeping his lips near yours. Even if they were not locked anymore, a mere millimeter from each other as you looked into his eyes. 
Your request for looking upon him without assistance was heard. He made sure to stay as close as possible so you could see what you desired. 
The light blush that roamed down his cheeks, every furrow his brows would make. And feel every exhale he would make tingle your skin before locking your lips again. 
Lazy and unpatterned, not even bothering to close your eyes as his tongue swirled against yours. 
As much as Kento liked your glasses- he much preferred you like this. No struggle in squinting just to see him. Being more than close enough for your bare vision to see his expression entirely. 
Choso Kamo
Choso is sooooo sweet when it comes to your glasses. 
Seeing you gasp whenever they’d slip off the nightstand, far too scared for them to break and not be able to buy new ones to contain the winces. 
Or how you’d take them off occasionally and wipe the lenses whenever they smudge. 
Even if you never mentioned it, Choso noticed the care you had for the frames. 
So when you would ask him to pass them to you- he would make sure to grab the legs or the little bridge. Mimicking the way your fingers are always avoidant of the glass. 
Or when he would notice a minor blot on the glasses before you could. Taking them off of you and swiping away any debris you had yet to see. 
Choso had the decency to push your glasses up to the top of your head before he kissed you- knowing he could be needy and could end up damaging them had he not been careful. 
And Choso never liked holding back how he felt when it came to you- so instead of that, he would move the precious item away and kiss you with all the urgency that buzzed in his insides. 
When they would be at the top opf your head, almost moving too eager, they would slip down and lightly hit his nose. He would gruff softly- nearly irritated that the pair of glasses were trying to cockblock him right now. 
Choso would gently take them off of you before folding them- placing them on a flat surface with a sprinkle of urge in his movements before connecting his lips to yours.
And in the mornings, he would always like watching your eyes open- a little squint forming on your eyes when you would wake. Little to no hesitation in giving you your glasses to see him clearly. 
Kiyotaka Ijichi
You had always found it rather tedious that Ijichi insisted on kissing you with his glasses on- yours clashing with his were bound to cause scratches on both of your frames. 
You always took yours off before he did his; muttering about how he wanted to see you clearly when things got heated. 
But something about how he would look- so flushed and on the brink of whimpering. So easily flustered and tight in his slacks from a few sloppy kisses. 
Even more so when he would clear his throat and adjust the little frames as you took yours off. As though this was some kind of business deal for which he had to stay composed.  
Even during intimacy, he would keep them on- fogged up and bordering on falling- and yet Ijichi still insisted on keeping them on. 
And the next chance you got- you pulled away and saw him with the little frames. His cheeks blushed red with a growing fog at the bottom of them. You couldn’t help but smile. 
Pushing up the bridge of your own glasses and raising a hand to the black legs of his frames. “It’s my turn to see you.” you mumbled, pulling them off and staying close enough for him to see you. 
That what taking off his glasses meant only gave you more reason to stay close to him and not dare pull away. 
Ijichi got even more flushed, if that was possible- being able to feel your 20/20 vision gaze on his skin whenever you would scan over his body. Suddenly, all too aware of how it must have felt for you when you took your own glasses off in these moments. 
He wondered if it ever felt as piercing for you as it did for him. Or even as half as vulturous as your eyes went low- the starved smile on your lips only adding to it. 
-
(a.n) my most recent regret is not buying 'cum lube' and instead buying the regular lube. SIGH.
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a-hazbin-reader · 4 months
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Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: Violence, Kidnapping, Alastor eating bitches
Description: Alastor's X Wife!Reader who gets kidnapped and how he deals with that
Alastor's relationship with you is a strong one, the two of of you drawn to each other in an almost supernatural way
But you also trust each other's strengths and aren't prone to stepping in each other's fights
Regardless of how powerful you are
I got your pinkie fingers bby go kick his ass
Holds your shopping bags for you while you go kick ass
Unless of course you ask him to
He likes it when you fix his hair afterwards, preening like a giant rooster as you do
THE POINT IS-
It's not like Alastor spends all his time glued to your hip or sending you out with bodyguards
You can take a damn walk by yourself
You do have a target on back though, if not because of your own strength/actions, then because of your husband
So it's not unusual when someone tries to pick a fight with you
But when you're suddenly ambushed and kidnapped, against the fact that you fought hard to avoid it
Fucking holy weapons
That's new
Well I suppose you'll just have to wait for your husband to come and get you out of this mess
*spits out blood*
Not you bragging about how fucked your kidnappers are once Alastor gets there
He's already going to be mad that they kidnapped his wife, but the fact that they've now put hands on you??? Made you bleed???
Oh they're so fucked
So just sit back and look pretty while you wait for your boo to come and rescue you
And you do look pretty
Keep your damn hands off
Alastor knows something is up when you don't come home, knows that someone must've gotten to you
If the old geezer watched tv maybe he would've known a little sooner
Maybe he would've known that your little fight made the news
Tf was he gonna do?? Wait for it to show up in the papers??
BREAKING NEWS!! RADIO DEMON'S BABE WIFE GETS KIDNAPPED AFTER EPIC BATTLE!
But when Angel shows him that you've been kidnapped Alastor literally just-
Makes this face:
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Oh he's getting his wife back
RIP Angel's phone 😭
He's visibly very calm about the whole thing though, which makes the others even more worried
"Well then! I suppose I'll have to get Y/N back myself, won't I? You all wait here, I won't be long now~"
Alastor does give them a chance to give you back before he comes and hunts them down
It's one of the most terrifying radio broadcasts people have listened to but this is his WIFE we're talking about
On the inside he is VERY ANGRY
Even if they do bring you back he still eats them
Fuck them he never promised them anything
They took and HURT HIS WIFE
If they don't bring you back then they're going to be subjected to slaughter like they've never known before being eaten
Not him using his massive demonic form to rip apart their safe house
Anyone who doesn't know Alastor like you do will think he's being surprisingly playful about it all
But as his wifers you know he's raging by the look in his eyes 👀 not merely playing with his food
Not wifey just sitting back and admiring Alastor while he works 💅✨️
Damn this is really doing it for me
Admires how elegantly you stretch and rub your wrists after your bindings are undone, so graceful even after taking a beating
"Thank you, Alastor~ Right on time as always~"
He begs to differ
"Anything for you, my dear."
Won't really look at you until you grab his chin and force him to, Alastor giving you a guilty smile
Le kiss
Leans in to touch foreheads with you, the two of relaxing in each other's arms amongst the carnage
Casually licks the blood off your face to ruin the moment before taking your arm
"Now let's get you home, my darling~"
Doesn't leave you alone for the rest of the night, trying to hide the fact that he's fretting over you
You want to take a bath and get cleaned up? He'll help you!
You want to lay down and rest after a stressful day? He's actually pretty tired too so you two should go to bed together
Will 100% broadcast their screaming souls as a warning to anyone else who wants to try that little stunt again
Falls asleep to it actually, one arm wrapped around you as he drifts off so that when he wakes up, he'll know you're right there with him
He doesn't think any less of you, he's been beat before too
Don't remind him
Will absolutely call himself your hero for like a week straight and land himself in the doghouse by the end of it
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rafeandonlyrafe · 5 months
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fixation
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words: 2.8k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, male receiving oral, reader has an oral fixation
taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @dream-pink
“baby i’m running out to the store real quick, do you want anything?” rafe asks, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he walks through the living room where you’ve been for the past hour, book splayed open in your lap.
“a sucker please? cherry or strawberry preferably.” you answer, only half paying attention to your boyfriend as your eyes continue to skim over the text.
“sure thing baby.” rafe says, tucking his wallet into his back pocket before heading out.
time flies as you get engrossed in your book, barely feeling like you’re reading and more that you’re inside of the book, part of the story.
“i didn’t know which kind, so i kinda got a bunch.” rafes voice makes you jump, not even realizing that he had returned from the store as he dumps a bag of suckers on the couch cushion next to you. your eyes widen at the 10 different kinds he brought back for you. you eye the group and then pick out your favorite, but really you didn’t dislike any of them.
“thank you rafey.” you hum, accepting his kiss when he leans down and presses one to your lips.
“i’m gonna head to the gym out back, since you’re still reading. you need anything else?” rafe asks, his hand cupping your jaw, thumb stroking over your cheek. you’re so unlike any other girl he has gone for in the past, but it’s why he loves you so much. you are smart, but so innocent when it comes to certain things and he loves to teach you and bring out your wilder side.
“i’m good, thank you.” you say again, pressing another kiss to his lips before rafe is out the back door. you’re surprised how quiet tanneyhill is today, but you’ve learned for the most part that all the members of the cameron family spend their days elsewhere, with eloise and sarah still in school, and ward and rose working most of the day away.
you unwrap your sucker before returning your attention to the book, feeling so much calmer now that you have something in your mouth. you reach the climax of the book, fingers rapidly turning the page until you get to the resolution, and then ultimately the end of the book.
you take a deep breath, letting in all that air you were holding from when the dramatic scenes were unfolding before setting the book onto the coffee table. you turn to pick up another sucker before realizing that you had subconsciously kept getting more, and you now only had one left, the rest reduced to white sticks.
you feel your cheeks flush in embarrassment even though no one is around, cleaning up your mess quickly but still unwrapping the sucker and sticking it in your mouth. you are just about to head out the gym, converted with weight machines and mirrors from a shed in the backyard, when rafe reenters.
“finished your book?” rafe asks, his skin covered in a sheen of sweat, hair sticking to his forehead.
“mhm.” you nod. “it was really good, i’m gonna rate it 4 stars on storygraph later.” 
“glad you liked it baby.” rafe comes up and kisses your cheek, considering your mouth is still occupied by the cherry sucker. “if you want to put the rest of the suckers in the candy cabinet, you can.” rafe says, referring to the one cabinet in the cameron home stocked full with junk food, from chocolate to greasy chips.
“i- um…” you trail off before pressing your lips together.
“what?” rafe asks, a slight smile on his lips, loving when you get flustered like this.
“i kinda ate them all. i didn’t even realize i just kept sucking.” you shrug, averting your gaze from rafe, so you miss the smirk that comes to his face.
--
“does anyone want any gum?” kelce asks, opening up the package and taking a piece for himself.
“oh my god, me!” you say, reaching out when kelce offers one to you, a slight look of confusion on the desperation in your voice as you stick the minty gum into your mouth and begin to chew. 
“i’ve been going crazy not having something in my mouth.” you say, turning your attention to rafe as kelce refocuses on the game. you’re not the biggest basketball fan, you find it entertaining enough to always agree when rafes asks you if you want to come with him and the boys, but you don’t understand most of the calls the refs make and the loud screaming from the crowd hurts your ears.
“you’re so precious, baby.” rafe says, pressing a few kisses to your cheek, leaving you to scrunch your eyebrows together, not sure what you did to gain that reaction but certainly not complaining.
you crunch the gum between your teeth, much happier now that you can focus on that and drown out some of the noise as you lean into rafe, his arm moving to be placed securely around your shoulders, up until the game comes down to a final shot, whipped from halfcourt towards the basket as the timer counts down, the ball ultimately swishing through the rim, making the entire crowd jump to their feet as the team gets the buzzer beater.
“that was exciting!” you tell rafe as you head out of the building, your hand encapsulated in his. “thanks for letting me along on boys night.” you call to topper and kelce.
“happy to have you.” topper says with a friendly smile, making rafe tighten his grip on your hand slightly.
--
“do we have any popsicles?” you ask, fanning your face with your hand, the bright sun beating down on the boat.
“yeah, should be in the cooler in back.” rafe says, gesturing towards the back of the yacht as he continues to steer the boat to the place he wants to anchor for the day to fish.
“mmkay thanks.” you say, getting up off the captains bench, where you always sat with rafe so he could keep a close eye on you while he also paid attention to the water in front of him. “you want one?” “nah, thanks though baby.” rafe glances away for a moment to look at you, his eyes soft. “hurry back though.” you smile, knowing he’s only being so strict with you because he loves you. you rush to the back of the boat, digging into the cooler for a red popsicle before returning to take your place next to rafe.
“are you too hot? you should drink water too.” rafe says, placing one hand on your thigh while he steers the boat with the other.
“nah, just wanted something cool in my mouth.” you say, too focused on the sun glimmering off the water in front of you to notice that rafe has to readjust himself in his shorts.
“gonna try this spot first.” rafe says, slowing the boat to a stop. you get up and move to where you know he’s going to fish from. you used to offer to help anchor, but you know rafe would never let you get your hands dirty.
“are you good princess?” rafe asks once everything is done, fishing pole and tackle box in hand.
“all good.” you nod, already having gotten a second popsicle from the cooler.
--
“what is it?” rafe asks.
“huh?” you question, taking your thumb out of your mouth that you didn’t even realize you were sucking on until rafe spoke up.
“you keep sucking on your fingers and you’ve got that look in your eyes. are you nervous for something, doll?” rafe asks, his voice soft and genuine.
“midsummers.” you pout, making rafe tilt his head to the side. he’s such a confident man, especially in social situations. he’s charming and outgoing, meanwhile you prefer to keep to yourself and watch things from afar, but it’s impossible with rafe, he’s always the center of attention in any room, like all the lights shine on him.
“i’m gonna be with you the whole time.” rafe says, not even having to ask why you’d be nervous for the big party.
“i know, i still hate the idea of all those eyes on me.” you shudder, sticking your thumb back into your mouth to provide some comfort.
“if you need to leave, we can leave after making an appearance.” rafe says, knowing he’d get shit for not sticking around longer, but he doesn’t care, you come first, always.
“thanks rafey.” you say, slightly muffled by your thumb in your mouth.
“i love you, baby.” rafe leans in, pressing a kiss to your jaw before pulling you onto his lap, letting you relax against him, eyes fluttering close as the sucking on your thumb eventually slows as you fall to sleep curled up in his arms.
--
“can we stop and get some gum? or a sucker?” you ask rafe, hands nervously twitching in your lap.
“baby, we are on a tight schedule we can’t be making stops for candy.” rafe says with a sigh, wishing he could accommodate you, but he knew he’d be in a rush ever since he stayed in bed this morning for an extra fifteen minutes to cuddle and kiss you.
“barry is late all the time, i don’t even know why you have to be on time to meet him.” you complain.
“don’t be a brat.” rafe says, already stressed out. sure, barry is often late, but rafe has different expectations of himself, and if he says he’s going to meet barry at a certain time, you can be damn sure that he will be there on time, if not five minutes early.
you cross your arms over your chest, not bothering to hide your annoyance from your boyfriend.
“here, you just wanna suck on something, go ahead and suck on my finger.” rafe says, gripping the steering wheel with one hand while he shoves his finger towards your mouth.
you would say no, but that really is all you want, so you pull your knees up to your chest and rest rafes wrist against your knees, sticking his finger into your mouth, moaning slightly around it at the pure relief of having something to focus on while rafe speeds down the backroads.
you suck on his finger, swirl your tongue around it, even gently press your teeth down on it, all while rafe sits there, cock swelling in his jeans while he wishes it to stay down, not needing to greet barry with a hard on, especially when you’re so blissfully unaware of the effect your mouth is having on him.
“alright we are almost there.” rafe says, making you whine when he takes his hand away, again reaching down to adjust his crotch, not sure how much longer he can put up with this.
--
“can we go to the store and buy a sucker? or maybe get some ice cream?” you ask, hands pawing at rafes chest as you lay in bed.
“come on, i just wanna stay here all day.” rafe says with a yawn. you were both up late partying, but you were getting bored of just sitting in bed all day, even if you do like being pressed up against your boyfriend.
“give me your fingers again then.” you reach out for his hand, but rafe snatches it away.
“i have something else you can suck on.” rafe says, making your head quirk to the side, inquisitive.
“you trust me, right?” rafe says, which you of course eagerly nod to. you trust rafe more than anyone else, so when he raises his hips and lowers his sweatpants down his legs before kicking them off to the floor, you don’t feel the same nervousness that you usually do.
“you want me to… give you head?” you swallow thickly. “i told you i’ve never done it before.” you’ve had sex with rafe before, but the focus was always on you, how he could bring your body to pleasure, how he fit inside of you.
“i know, but you’re always wanting to suck on something.” rafe shrugs. “might as well suck on my dick. besides, i’ll teach you.”
“o-okay.” you nod, eyes flicking between meeting rafes gaze and his length, clearly obvious and straining against the fabric of his underwear.
“now, i’m already hard just because i always am being around you, but why don’t you explore a bit with your mouth over my underwear, hm?” rafe says. you nod, figuring the best thing to do if you felt nervous was following his directions, afterall, he hasn’t led you astray in the past.
you slide down the bed until you’re laid on your stomach between his legs. you start with kisses around his underwear, before planting one on his length, kissing down the shaft until you reach where you presume his head is. you flick your tongue out, giving an experimental lick that makes rafe moan, so you double down on your effort, pushing your tongue against the fabric, creating a wet spot.
“that-that feels really good.” rafe says, his voice so breathless, causing you to look up at him, his eyes glazed over with lust.
you take matters into your own hand upon seeing how turned on you’re making him. you always let him finger you, or eat you out, or fuck you to orgasm, but you’ve never done the same to him in return, mostly because you are inexperienced. so, you pull his underwear down suddenly, allowing his cock to spring up.
you don’t give yourself any time to feel insecure as you wrap your lips around the head of his cock, making rafe curse and bring a hand down to grip your hair, but he doesn’t shove you down, knowing you’re not ready for that and will move at your own pace.
you rub your tongue against him, surprised by how much you like the taste as you try to move your mouth down some, to take more of him. you succeed for the most part until you have to pull off to take a breath.
“baby, when i cum you can pull off that way it doesn’t go all in your mouth.” rafe says, wanting to warn you now before he gets too wrapped up in the feeling of your warm tongue to forget his words.
“and what if i want you all in my mouth?” you question, sinking your lips around him again, trying to go deeper again before you start to suck, having had lots of practice with your suckers and popsicles. you may have never given head before, but you know to keep your teeth away from his sensitive skin, so you hope that means you’re doing a good job.
“breathe thr-fuck. breathe through your nose, baby, it’ll help.” rafe says, reminding you. you give a hum around his length in acknowledgement, making rafe let out another curse.
you try it again, sucking and then humming, sucking and then humming, and clearly from the look on rafes face, he likes the vibrations on his cock. 
you pull off after a minutes, licking around the base of his cock and slowly moving up, wanting to taste every inch of him. you get back to the head and notice he’s leaking slightly out of his tip, which you quickly dart up with your tongue, making rafes hips raise up, pushing his cock against your tongue.
“you’re so fucking good at this.” rafe moans, one hand still gripping your hair while the other is fisted in the bedsheets, trying his best to hold back from shoving your head down onto his cock and fucking your mouth.
“i’ve got lots of practice with sucking things.” you giggle before taking him into your mouth again, bobbing your head as you suck, flicking your tongue over his head every time you pull back.
you decide again to try to take more of him into his mouth now that you’ve gotten more comfortable, but you swear rafe has swelled as you can’t take nearly as much as before.
“baby-i-close-i-” rafe stutters out, pushing your lips further, causing his cock to push into your throat as he releases to your tongue softly licking his length even you gag.
you feel rafe release, thick ropes of cum lining your insides as you swallow down repeatedly until he’s dry, completely milked free of cum. you pull off with a cough, rafes hands dropping limply to his sides.
“god, your mouth is amazing.” rafe moans.
you smile at the praise, glowing under his words. you look to the cock in front of you, now softening against his thigh.
“can we do that again?” you ask, quirking your head to the side.
“absolutely.” rafe nods. “once i recover. why don’t we get you a sucker until i can get hard again?”
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kazvha · 3 months
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WHAT THE GENSHIN BOYS SMELL LIKE
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Including: Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Baizhu, Cyno, Dainsleif, Diluc, Freminet, Gaming, Gorou, Heizou, Itto, Kaeya, Kaveh, Kazuha, Lyney, Neuvillette, Tartaglia, Thoma, Tighnari, Venti, Wanderer, Wriothesley, Xiao, Zhongli
Notes: These are just personal headcanons, don't take these too seriously🥴 Enjoy!!💛
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ALBEDO
• I think he smells like nothing most of the time
• You only feel cold air when you stand next to him because he's in Dragonspine a lot
• Subtle notes of charcoal which he uses as an art tool or of strong chemicals cling onto him on some days
ALHAITHAM
• I also don't think he smells like anything on most days, maybe only like the fresh clothes he's wearing
• Though he has a faint scent of coconut to him. It could be the shampoo or the skin care products he's using, but it's mostly because of his body lotion
AYATO
• His hair always smells like the shampoo he uses. So sugary and sweet, like vanilla cake or bubblegum
• But for his body and clothes he uses expensive clean and powdery fragrances
• Quite the combo, I must say💀 Strange, just like his taste in food
BAIZHU
• Smells like expensive bar soap. A mix of aloe vera and ginger
• Also smells kinda sour because of the herbs he works with
CYNO
• Smells like pure white musk which smells great
• But it can be quite intense on some days when he decides to go overboard with his sprays
• He's sweating at the end of the day but the smell is subtle
DAINSLEIF
• He smells like the environment he was in. Often it's nature. Every now and then he smells like the rain too
• Also smells kinda dusty, like that basement smell you know? People either love it or hate it.
DILUC
• He smells warm and homely. Notes of cedar, sandalwood, or cinnamon
• But you'd have to stand really close to him to smell anything, his coat kinda dulls the scent
• Of course, he always smells like the vineyard and grapes during the harvest
FREMINET
• Smells fresh like bar soap. It's almost unnoticeable. It has a light scent of baby powder
• His clothes smell like chamomile because of the fabric softener he uses
GAMING
• This fella smells like cocoa butter because he uses it as body lotion
• I can also imagine that he carries an aroma of caramel/burnt sugar
• Bro eats so much dim sum, he often smells like the food he ate
GOROU
• I don't think he has a particular scent
• But his home/room smells like cinnamon, cloves, and oranges. The scent kinda rubs off on him
HEIZOU
• He wears body mists with floral notes. His favorites are maybe roses, lavender, or honeysuckle
• He likes to keep a little lavender sachet in his closet, so his clothes also smell like flowers
ITTO
• Idk, he probably smells like someone who's outside a lot. He has that outside smell, you know what I mean?
• He probably wears a musky fragrance, but it usually mixes with his sweat
KAEYA
• My bro is using all sorts of Arabian oils and fragrances. He has some with the notes of oud, musk, amber, and much more. Kaeya has a whole collection
• He smells divine and he knows it because people compliment him every day
• But like Venti, he drinks a lot, so his scent mixes with the wine odor
KAVEH
• Kaveh likes to wear fruity, tropical fragrances because he's always craving chilled fruits, especially on days that are hotter than usual.
• They also remind him of the days on which he sat in front of his house with his parents and ate watermelons
• Also has an alcohol odor sometimes like his fellas in Mondstadt
KAZUHA
• He uses a fabric softener because he likes his clothes to be extra comfortable. That's why he often smells like fresh laundry
• Because he spends a lot of his free time in nature, he probably also smells like grass or firewood
LYNEY
• Berries. He always smells like berries.
• He won't tell you what his secret is
• You guess every product he uses has the scent of berries. His bodywash, his shampoo, his body lotion, his deodorant, his fabric softener, the candle in his room, his lip balm, etc. Even his toothpaste...
NEUVILLETTE
• This sir smells like the ocean. Like the sea breeze. Like water itself.
• Yeah, he likes expensive-smelling aquatic colognes. Though occasionally he also uses citrusy perfumes
TARTAGLIA
• Something tells me that he either smells like expensive aquatic fragrances
• Or he smells like an old lady mixed with the aroma of nature, grass, firewood, animals, etc.
THOMA
• He probably likes to wear sweet scents like tonka bean and honey
• Or even perfumes with fruity notes like peach or pear
TIGHNARI
• You can't tell me this guy doesn't smell like herbs, plants, flowers and stuff
• Idk, when I think of him I think of eucalyptus
VENTI
• He would smell quite fresh and idk, breezy?
• Like a fresh breath of air in spring if you know what I mean
• But since he's drunk most of the time the overbearing odor of wine sticks to him
WANDERER
• Nahida gifted him a citrus perfume and he has been using it ever since
• He likes bitter smells too, so he bought himself bitter perfumes with bergamot, bitter orange, and grapefruit notes
WRIOTHESLEY
• I think he wears a perfume which has woody, earthy notes. Sometimes he has a fresh minty smell to him too
• When he fights the scents obviously mix with his sweat
• I also think a light scent of motor oil sticks to him
XIAO
• Most of the days he smells literally like nothing, or sweat. It's not overbearing though
• But there are some days on which he smells super sweet, like vanilla, cotton candy, a baked treat or something
• It's either because he ate those things or because he has body sprays with these scents. He won't tell you
ZHONGLI
• If you're standing close to him, you'll smell his pleasant cologne scent
• It could be musky or woody, but he usually wears floral scents like osmanthus
• His scent mixes with the aroma of tea leaves or herbs which he gets from wandering in the market and drinking tea the whole day
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netherfeildren · 6 months
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Evermore
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Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader
Summary: Joel’s your older boyfriend who your parents had a hard time approving of, but you’re engaged now and spending your first Thanksgiving with your family, and well, it’s always fun doing things you know you shouldn’t do under the roof of your childhood home.
-OR-
The Thanksgiving AU
Rating: Explicit 18+
Content Warnings: No outbreak AU; Thanksgiving AU; Devoted Joel Miller; Established Relationship; Thanksgiving is the most boyfriend holiday and it needs to be discussed; Fucking in your childhood home shenanigans; Pretty soft and sweet; Needy behavior; Older man/Younger woman; Daddy kink; Size Difference; Unprotected PIV; Creampie; Breeding Kink; Oral sex; Fluff and Smut; Praise Kink; Come eating; PWP
A/N: Was thinking yesterday that Thanksgiving is the most boyfriendy holiday, and so this seemed entirely necessary after that epiphany. I’m sick as an old dog right now, and wrote this so quickly and just for fun. Any and all mistakes are property of my NyQuil induced high, apologies and enjoy and happy holidays :]
New Year’s Eve follow up
Word Count: 4.2K
Read on AO3
Ko-fi
“You’re doing so good.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah, baby. So, so good. It’s going so well.” You drag your nails slowly up the wide expanse of his strong back, feeling the divots and bumps of his spine, the thick padding of muscles that jump and shiver at your touch. He’d donned the nice green and red plaid button down you’d bought him for tonight, and he’s a little damp at the small of his back, giving away the nerves he’s trying to keep hidden from you, but you can tell anyways, sensed them as if they’d been your own fluttering within you. More attuned to another person than maybe is normal, perhaps, but you know this man, your man, your fiance now. You understand him. 
“You think he likes me?” And his voice goes a little gruff, sheepish, words lodging in his throat as he slowly soaps your mother’s special holiday china in the warm sink water. The two of you’d been relegated to clean up duty after you’d finished the beautiful Thanksgiving meal your mother had spent days readying in preparation for your first official visit with Joel as the man you’d soon marry. No longer just the older boyfriend who your father couldn’t stand to hear about, much less bear the sight of. And the come around had been slow going, undoubtedly, tireless work on yours and your mother’s parts trying to get him to relent, to accept the man who you’d chosen to spend the rest of your life with as a good man for his daughter. 
“Yes– yes. Absolutely. You made him laugh so many times. And he was so interested when you mentioned the house.”
You feel him suck in a shaky breath and move to wrap your arms around the strong breadth of his waist, resting your cheek against him, listening to the thud, thud of his beating heart. “Christ–” He gives a tremulous laugh that you follow suit warmly, palms splaying out over his belly. “He was, wasn’t he?” 
“So interested. Please, don’t worry anymore. My mom loves you, and dad’s on his way there too, I know he is, I promise.”
“He’s just protective,” he says, shutting off the water and pulling the plug on the drain. The both of you stand there in the silence together, listening to the little tornado of water suck away the remnants of the perfect dinner you’d just had with your parents and the man you were going to marry. It really had been perfect, and you’re telling him the truth when you say you really do think your father’s coming around. He’d been apprehensive at first, more than apprehensive, perhaps, with Joel being so much older than you, twenty years to be exact. And with a teenage daughter of his own, Sarah, who was spending the holiday with her mother. 
Your mother had always been the easy going one, and she’d taken one look at Joel, the dark, silver threaded curls, the thick shoulders and sparkly, hazel eyes, the too charming smile and had immediately understood. Your father had seen all those same things and seen nothing but trouble immediately deserving of mistrust. Things had been rocky for a time, but when Joel had gotten down on one knee and asked you to spend the rest of your life with him and Sarah, when he’d broken ground on the house he was building you with his bare hands from the dirt up out by the lake, well… your father hadn’t been able to withhold his approval for much longer after that was all said and done. 
“And for good reason,” he continues, reaching for the dish towel, drying off his hands before covering yours over his stomach with his wide palms, pulling your arms tighter around him. He brings one of your hands up to his face, cupping his own mouth with it to press a kiss to the tender cove. “The man should take me out back and drag me through the mud,” he mumbles, muffled into your skin, dragging his mouth slowly from side to side, tickling your palm with his whiskers. 
You press yourself harder against him, shoving him into the edge of the counter, dizzy with the feel of your heart beating so hard against your sternum it reverberates against the ribs in his back. “No, baby. Why? Never.” You press a kiss right over the slope of his spine. 
He gives a soft laugh at the feel of your wriggling against him, trying to find friction anywhere and anyway, not very inconspicuously rubbing your breasts against his back, and he turns slowly in the circle of your arms with that humming laugh still caught in his throat, bending slightly at the knees when he wraps his own arms around your waist to pull you up and into him so that your feet are left to dangle above his own heavy boots. He nuzzles at the warm, fragrant skin beneath the edge of your jaw, a small kiss to the tender spot behind your ear, where he whispers, “‘Cause all I could think about at the goddamn table, sittin’ next to your father, was how pretty your tits look in that dress you wore for me – how much I wish I could kiss that pretty pussy to sleep tonight.” 
You whine low, desperate, needy, wrapping your arms behind his neck to press his face tightly to your throat, breath hitching at the feel of his teeth, sharp at your pulse. “Joel–”
He shakes his head slowly, a long stream of sighing breath warm against your collarbone before he says, “I know– I know, baby. I’m telling ya– your father should kill me for the things I wanna do to his little girl. For the things I do to her already.”
The visit had so far been everything you could’ve wished for, and what you’d appreciated more than anything, more than your father’s very approval of your fiance, or your mother’s happiness for you, was that Joel had found the perfect balance between being respectful, ingratiating even, while still remaining uncowed by your father. Walking into your parents home with your hand in his, a deferential kiss to your mother’s cheek, and a strong, self assured handshake for your father while he’d handed him the bottle of his favorite fine aged whiskey and a demure, I’m glad we could make this work for our girl.
Our girl, he’d said, and it had made everything that lived inside of you with his name on it, everything that was perpetually soft and wet for him, go molten. You loved him. You belonged to him. And you’d chosen him for yourself, and he was sure as hell going to make sure everyone the two of you came across knew what that choice entailed, what it meant to him. Your father had been forced into capitulation, all with the whiskey and the self assurance in Joel’s eyes, your own unbridled elation, and your mother’s giggles and blushing smiles like every other woman who’s ever met this man, unable to resist the charm of that Southern twang and the too gorgeous smile, no other recourse had been left to your poor dad. 
You think of this as you make your way on silent tiptoes through your parent’s dark, quiet home. It had been the one concession you’d not garnered from your father, the sleeping arrangements. He’d absolutely refused to allow you and Joel to share a bed under his roof, no questions asked. And no matter how much you’d pleaded and your mother had cooed and cawed and threatened him, he’d not relented. At this point, you were worried he’d not let you sleep in the same bed as Joel even after the two of you’d been married. But what your father didn’t understand, what even you yourself barely understood sometimes was that you needed Joel. You need him. No one, no one except for Joel himself understood how desperately that ran inside of you. He understood you, he always has. 
You pause as you reach the closed door of his bedroom, splaying a palm against the fine grained wood to take a settling breath, your heart beating so fast you feel it in your throat, chock full of excitement, lust, desperate yearning. To have him here, in your childhood home, where you’d been a teenager, a girl, grown into a woman, you want him so, so badly, inside of you, around you, beneath you. You can never sleep without him anymore, no comfort to be found in the too small bed of your childhood – you turn the knob and slip inside. 
The blue darkness of the guest bedroom paints his form in shadows, big under the pretty quilt your mother has adorning the bed. You can see the heavy mass of his shoulder peeking from beneath the edge of the quilt, the ratty gray t-shirt you know has a faded longhorn stretched across the front; not able to sleep naked and wrapped only in you the way he usually does when under your parents roof. You turn the lock and step carefully on tipped toes, avoiding the creaky bits in the hardwood floor you’re so familiar with after a lifetime living in this house and lift the edge of the quilt to slip into the cocoon of warmth with him. Like a living furnace, you snake your arm over his flank slowly, enjoying the shiver and jerk of his muscles as you stroke him awake. Your palm, passing over thick ridged muscles and soft belly, digging beneath to feel the wispy scratch of hair there. 
He makes a deep sound, low in his chest, legs shifting as he comes to wakefulness, and then the gruff murmur of your name being whispered into the dark, his big, callused palm coming to wrap entirely around your fist beneath his t-shirt, keeping you from slipping it inside his sleep pants. “Baby, what’re you doin’?” He slurs, voice full of sleep and slow waking lust. 
You press your pelvis into his backside, hitching your knee up and over his hip to wrap yourself around him like vines. “I need you,” you mewl, baby voice trying to get ahead of his polite refusal before he’s able to get it out. He’d told you, before the two of you’d embarked on this weekend at your parents house, that there was to be no funny business on your part. As if he didn’t know that that was your favorite kind of business where he was concerned. You press a kiss above his scapula, then open your jaw to drag your teeth against the skin warmed cotton. You rub against him, clutching and pulling at his chest and stomach, biting and kissing as much of his back as you can reach, your foot somehow finding its way into his lap so that you can feel his quickly hardening cock against the sensitive arch of your foot. 
He groans roughly. “You’re gonna get us caught, sweet girl,” he tries to protest, but wraps his hand around the little foot in his lap anyways, pressing the arch of it into that half hard erection, rubbing against it. 
“I need you– I can’t sleep without you,” you whine, and he makes a frustrated sound, turning to face you, gripping your knee as he goes to open the cradle of your hips for himself, drawing your leg over his waist so that you’re suddenly chest to chest, sipping on each other’s warm breath. With a fist in your hair he gives you a hardly believable reprimand, little girl, and presses his lips briefly to yours, quick and damp, barely there, like he can’t help himself, like he knows that if he starts he won’t be able to stop, wandering hands already slipping up the hem of your nightgown, squeezing your panty clad ass. 
“Your parents…” he tries again, the roll of his hips against yours, coupled with a hitched whine, making his objections a little laughable.
“Don’t you miss me? Don’t you love me? Don’t you want me here with you?”
“Of course– of course I do–” You twist your fingers in his curls, the first real press of your mouths, his damp upper lip slotting between both of yours so that you can give it a little suck. Then the tip of his tongue touching yours, and you’re opening all the way for him, moaning wantonly into his mouth, letting him lick and taste behind the line of your teeth. “‘Course I want you here, baby.”
“I’ll be good. I’ll be quiet,” you promise. “Please, please, Joel. Please, just–” The hand squeezing your ass slides between your legs, finds the damp plaquet of panties. Fuckin’ soaked already, needy girl. “Please, just fuck me. I’ll be so quiet, I promise.”
“Baby…”
Please, please, please. He’s always had something about him that turns you into nothing more than a wet little girl desperate for the big, big man’s attention. The impropriety of your surroundings has no bearing on this, the desperation is as present as ever, heightened even, maybe, because of the wrongness of it, because you could be caught red handed at any second if you’re not careful, not quiet enough. 
“‘Course I love you so fuckin’ much. You even need to ask?” He rubs the flat of his palm over your pussy, the tip of his middle finger finding the nub of your clit covered by the soaked wet silk to press lightly on each pass forward.
“No, Daddy. I know,” you breathe soft and secret into his mouth, watch the slight widening of his eyes as you say it. You can picture the flush suffusing his cheeks at hearing you call him so, know the effect the sound of it has on him. 
“Fucking Christ,” he murmurs, pulling you tighter against him, tilting your head back by the grip he has on your hair so that he can deepen his kiss, taste you more thoroughly. “Better be quiet while I fuck you.” He pulls back, mock frown and a note of reprimand in his voice as his fingers dip beneath the silk of your panties to find the wet, swollen mess of you already. He moans into your open mouth, your name and I love you and wet fuckin’ pussy as he starts to pet at you slowly. His fingers swirling at your clit and then moving to your opening, dipping inside just a tiny bit, giving you almost nothing, forcing a frustrated whine up your throat. “I said quiet.”
“Please, Daddy. Please,” you beg, but he returns to your clit, ignoring your whining, pinching the bundle of nerves lightly before he’s back to teasing the mouth of your cunt, dipping the tip of a single finger in shallowly to pull your wetness from you and spread it over your mound, slicking you up for him. 
“We’re gonna go nice and slow. Gonna take my pretty cunt nice and slow, and you’re gonna be good for me, aren’t you? Gonna be quiet – not get us caught, right? Say yes.”
“Yes, Daddy,” you whisper, pressing kisses all along his face and jaw and throat, needy fingers twisting in his curls, scratching at the back of his neck and the hills of his shoulders. He make an approving groan of a sound, rolling the two of you over so that you’re on your back, splayed out beneath him, and he pulls the vee of your nightgown down, bearing your breasts to him, sucking on each nipple, first hard then soft, then with teeth and tongue, slicking you in his spit, and you try and stay quiet, you really, really do, but it’s so hard not to cry out at the sight of his jaw hinging wide, seemingly trying to take the whole heavy weight of your breast into his mouth in one go. 
He always has you like he wants you more than anything else in the whole world, like he’s never wanted anything else in his whole life more than he wants you, and nothing feels better than that, nothing makes you crazier for him than the way he wants you so desperately. 
He makes his way down the length of you with kisses to your breasts, your ribs, your belly, the mound of your pelvic bone, before he’s gathering your knees together and bending them to press against your chest, pulling the lace and silk of your panties over the curve of your bottom and diving nose first into your wet cunt, taking in a deep drag of your scent and then dragging the broad, flat of his tongue from your asshole to your clit in one long, slow swipe. The groan he ends on has you almost coming on his tongue just like that, the sound so hungry it would scare someone who doesn’t want to be wanted as badly by this man as you do. And he eats your cunt like he’s angry, like he’s in love with you, like he doesn’t care if you get caught or not. Tongue plunging into your pussy, sucking on your clit, shaking his head, quick and hard, from side to side so that the obscene sound of your wetness against his mouth is all you can hear over the cacophony sounding in your ears right before you gush for him all wet and sweet and sticky, covering his tongue and beard. His lips wrap around your swollen clit again while it still pulses for him, and you have to shove your fist into your mouth, drooling around it to stifle the sound of your cries for his cock while he sucks you into a second painfully fluttery orgasm, your womb cramping hard and tight around nothing, your cunt clutching desperately at air for the cock it’s about to gladly take. The hum of his movements, of his whines and moans, don’t match his promise for nice and slow. They tell you this is going to be hard and deep and might even hurt, and that you’ll like it all the more for that. This is, after all, what you’d snuck in here for, just exactly this. 
He pulls away from your cunt with a loud, wet suck, popping your clit from his puckered mouth like a piece of too ripe, too sweet fruit, before crawling up the length of you, pulling your soaked panties and your nightgown from your body as he goes, shucking his own sweat soaked shirt over his head and kicking his pajama bottoms away. When he takes your mouth again, his face and beard are wet and sticky with your slick, all sweet sugared musk and the angry thrust of his tongue, his fingers, too hard and too tight wrapping around your jaw, grunting into your mouth as he sucks on your tongue. His burning hot cock thrusts between your wet cleft, the sound of your leaking pussy loud enough to be heard over the sound of your mingled panting breaths. You feel him grip himself, stroking once, twice, wide, blunt head bumping against slick soaked skin, before he’s notching at your cunt and shoving in, hard and fast. Not giving you a chance to think about it before he’s bumping at the mouth of your womb, a muted bruise you never tire of; his too big cock that still pinches every time, that presses in just on this side of too deep to always be comfortable, but you don’t care. The proof is in the hurt, and you need constant reminding that he’s real, that this is real. It’s your greatest pleasure, after all, the reassurance of him, of the two of you, and he never tires of giving it to you. You know that giving you the things you need and want from him, turns Joel on more than anything else.
He groans long and low into the crook of your shoulder when he bottoms out and holds there for several drawn out moments, both of you enjoying the pulse and throb of your connection. He’s so deep and you’re so wet for him, taking him so, so well, like he always tells you that you do. You’d felt, from the first moment that you’d laid eyes on him, like you’d been made for him. Put on this earth just for him to find and keep, and doing this, having each other like this, even after all the times you’ve done it, always feels like further proof of it. He grinds against you, hips shifting from side to side, tip bumping against the deepest part of you, before he’s clutching at your ass and flipping the both of you over suddenly, cock never slipping from your tight clutch when he settles you on top of him, buried to the hilt. You feel him in your stomach like this, and you tell him so, little hand coming to rest low on your belly where you’re holding him inside of you, pressing down so that the both of you can feel your connection from the inside out, groaning in tandem all wide and sparkly eyed as you look at each other. And he’s nodding his head at you as you start to shift your hips slowly, feeling the wet slide of his length, the grind of your clit against his pelvis, one hand pressing down on your belly, the other anchoring yourself on his own stomach so that you can rock yourself on him. 
He pulls one of your knees up, resting your foot flat on the bed to open you to his gaze, so that he can watch the way the thick root of his cock splits your cunt open for him to fuck up into. The two of you find your rhythm, you rolling your hips down on his upthrust, and he’s still nodding his head at you, mouthing words made of only air at you while you gasp and gulp for breath, I love you and you’re so pretty and yeah, ride that cock, baby. All you can do in return is mumble his name at him over and over again, Joel, Joel, Joel, nonsensical. Your brain doesn't work when he’s got his cock wedged this deep inside of you, it just doesn’t.
There's sweat pooling in the divots of his collarbones, the sun grizzled notch of his throat, and you fold over forward, changing the angle, deepening it, to lick up those little pools of salt, sucking on his neck until he’ll surely have incriminating bruises tomorrow. You don’t care, not even a little bit. He’s so yours in this moment, always really, but right now, Joel feels so, so incredibly yours, and you love him so much, and he’s going to be your husband one day soon and nothing else really matters besides that. 
He wraps both arms around your back, squeezes you to himself tight and starts to fuck up into you, fast, brutal, again, nothing nice and slow about it like he’d promised, and you’re forced to dig your teeth into his shoulder so hard you’re scared for a moment you’ll taste blood on your tongue. You can feel your orgasm crawling up your spine, pooling like liquid heat in your pelvis while everything goes tight and fluttery inside of you. “How mad would he be if I knocked you up right now? If I fucked his baby girl full’a my baby under his roof?” He grunts into your ear, and there’s the dip in your restraint. As much as you want to hold off and wait for him, you clench down hard around him with a sharp cry, mouthful of his skin to muffle you only barely. “Huh? What’dya think he’d say?” He continues, changing the angle so that his pelvis bumps against your clit on every punch in, balls slapping wetly against the curve of your ass while he pets at the tight ring of muscle back there, tempting you with more than you think you can take right now. “If you go all pretty and round and soft for me before our wedding.” 
You can't speak, you’re nothing but air and sticky, sweet wet in the shape of a girl made just for him. Too tight grip in your hair, and he’s jerking your face towards him, grunting into your mouth as he starts to spill inside of you, burning hot come milked out of his cock and deep into you, and he tells you again how much he loves you, tells you that you’re his pretty little wife because it’s already felt like that for so long. A marrying of your very selves despite the lack of legal nothing that means so little to the both of you when you have all this between you already. Tells you that he can’t wait to see his baby all full of his baby. 
When he’s finished pumping you filled to the brim he turns you over again, pulls out slowly so that the both of you can appreciate the sound of his heavy cock slipping wetly from your well used pussy, and when he bends to eat your mingled come out of your puffy cunt, only to then wedge your mouth open so that he can spit your fluids onto your waiting tongue, all here, taste how good we are, the only words left when it comes to this man and this thing you have between the two of you is always simply thank you. 
New Year’s Eve follow up
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ultralightpoe · 5 months
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The Freak and The Princess -Eddie Munson
Authors Note: I think I wrote this one back when the new season first came out? Cleaning out drafts and for a couple months I was on an Eddie track fr fr
Word Count: 13,441
Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT - Eddie and reader are mean to each other for a bit.
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(Thank you for the gif @johnclaytonmayer)
Enjoy!
It was amazing to think how much things change. 
There had once been a time where you considered Eddie Munson to be your best friend, that and your brother Gareth. There had been a time where you thought Eddie Munson was one of the most perfect people in the world, where you had craved to spend any possible second you could with him. 
Now, sitting in the back of his van soaked to the bone as you sob, you find that you’re somehow sitting across a stranger. He watches you closely, eyes stern as he wraps a blanket around you to try and help the shivering. 
It was weird to recognize every single detail of him and still feel like you didn’t all at once. 
“Do you want to smoke? Will that help?” He asks, already reaching for the lunch box hidden in the back so he could grab one of the joints you had seen him roll earlier in the day. 
“I want to go home.” You cry, a shiver going down your spine. “But I don’t want them to see me like this.” 
“Okay.” He nods, and you can see him try to come up with a plan. “I can take you to my trailer for a bit, you can shower and sleep some of this off. Okay?” 
“Okay.” You nod, hands still shaking. “Thank you….. thank you Eds.” 
He stills at the nickname, eyes catching yours for a moment before he is shuffling to get into the driver seat without another word. 
You felt silly, calling him his nickname after everything that’s happened, shuffling to lay on your side to help ease some of the pain built up. You hear him shuffle around with the music, debating if he should have it up or down. 
“Do you want music, bugs?” He asks, your chest warming at the nickname as you close your eyes, inhaling the scent from his sweater and blanket as you fall asleep. 
-
You had met Eddie your freshman year of highschool, before that he had always been Gareths mysterious friend that you had never seen before. 
But now that you went to school with them it seemed that Eddie was everywhere, not that you minded. 
You had quickly become a main member of their group, sitting with them at lunch and going to their band practices. You and your brother had always been close, so it wasn’t anything different than how it used to be. You were just hanging out with your brother…… and his extremely hot friend that you sometimes imagined kissing. No biggie.
But being completely honest everything about Eddie to you was a huge biggie. 
Like right now, as he glared at you while angrily breaking pretzels with his teeth, and all you could do was smile at him. 
“What is wrong with you?” He snaps and you preen under the attention. 
“I said what I said.” You simply reply, flipping your hair over your shoulder with confidence. 
“How can you hate Texas Chainsaw?! It’s such a classic movie! First of its kind!” He whines, snatching a fry from your plate. 
“You say that about every slasher movie, Eds.” You grumble, snatching a pretzel from his bag. “They’re all new and amazing to you. 
“Because they are!” He sighs, obviously frustrated that you wouldn’t agree. “You’re just upset that we didn’t watch that new goonies bullshit.”
“What’s going on?” Gareth asks, sitting beside you with his own lunch tray and snatching one of your fries even though he had some of his own. 
“We were just talking about movies.” You mumble, a blush rising across your skin. Wednesday nights Gareth had to work at the gas stations over night shift, so you had begun hanging out with Eddie when your brother was busy. That had turned into spending the night at Eddie’s and telling your older brother that you were spending the night at your friend Abigail’s since you knew he would get butt hurt that you hung out with Eddie without him. 
“Bugs here thinks Texas chainsaw sucked.” Eddie grunts, throwing a pretzel at you. 
“Oh no way! It’s so good!” Your brother gasps as Jeff joins the table and soon Paul joined. Suddenly the table was packed and chaos filled the once normal conversation. 
You allowed them all to talk over you, choosing to look around the cafeteria as they do so. Everyone today seemed to be in a flurry of excitement, laughing and dashing across the cafeteria. 
You make eye contact with Adam Hanson, one of the schools popular basketball players and he gives you a wide smile, winking as all his friends talk around him. 
At first you pass by it, not really thinking he was looking at you until he waves his hand to get your attention again, smiling like a goof as he wiggles his fingers right before he winks again. 
A small touch at your wrist pulls you back to the table, where Eddie is peering at you with wide brown eyes as the boys yell at each other about something. His thumb is rubbing your wrist softly as you try and smile. 
“You okay?” He asks, looking past you to where Hanson sits before looking back to your eyes. 
“I’m fine. Hanson has always been a clown.” You mumble back shrugging. 
“Okay well I was asking you if you want to retry.” Eddie mumbles, thumb still rubbing your wrist. 
“Retry?” 
“Movie night.” 
“I’m not watching texas chainsaw again.” You laugh which makes him smile. 
“I meant we need to make up for it. Get a movie you might actually like.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Gareth works tonight and Wayne is going to be doing an all nighter at work so we can get another movie.” 
“That sounds like fun.” You smile at him, watching his shoulders relax a bit. 
“What sounds like fun?” Gareth asks turning to you. 
“Burning the government down.” You reply, smiling innocently. 
“That sounds like fun, count me in.” A new voice emerges from behind you, making the rest of the table blink slowly as you turn to see Adam Hanson standing there smiling wide. “What time should we meet up? I’ll bring the gasoline.” 
“I think our rebel van is already full this time. Maybe you can catch the next round.” You smile. 
“Burning down more than one government are we?” He laughs with raised eyebrows. 
“Mmm. Maybe a monarchy next.” You offer, shrugging a bit as he laughs like it’s the funniest thing in the world. “I like to keep my options open.”
“Can we help you?” Gareth scoffs, glaring at Adam like he was being a huge issue. 
“Hey, take it easy. Just trying to join a revolution.” Adam teases, hands held up in a surrender way and winking at you once more before walking off to join his friends at the door while your brother glares at you like you had done something wrong. 
“What?” 
“That was gross!” He scoffs. “Dude was ogling at my baby sister.” 
“No he wasn’t.” You scoff back, blushing a bit as your brother rolls his eyes. Risking a quick look to Eddie, nervous about his reaction, you find him wide eyed looking between your brother and yourself. 
“Wasn’t that disgusting, Eddie?” Gareth snaps, pulling the poor dungeon master into it. “The kid barely notices you then you hit puberty and suddenly he’s all over you? Fucking perve.” 
“Why are you making such a big deal about this? He was just being nice.” 
“You’re a child. And he was not just being nice.” Gareth scoffs again, smacking the back of your head. “It’s called being a pedophile.” 
“Doesn’t count. They are both minors.” Jeff reminds through a mouthful of pizza. 
“Yeah well it’s still gross.” Gareth snaps. 
Now, completely embarrassed by this whole ordeal, you risk one more look at Eddie only to realize that he was avoiding eye contact and pretending to read the textbook in front of him. 
“I’m gonna go to my locker.” You mumble, the embarrassment eating you. You grab your stuff quickly, dropping off the tray into the trash before exiting all together. 
  
Eddie’s trailer had once made you nervous, the idea of being where Eddie lived and slept. 
But now? You were very used to it, excitement fills you whenever you come over. 
Knocking, just as you always do, after parking your bike by the side so it doesn’t get stolen. Soon enough the door was cracking open and Eddie’s face came into view, a smile breaking out on his face when he sees you, opening the door wider to reveal he is only in sweats with his torso of tattoos that has your eyes widening. 
“You’re early.” He mumbles out, rubbing his eyes to try and wake up, pulling you in so he can shut the door from the cold. “Jesus. Why is it so chilly?” 
Within moments he is pulling you in for a hug, rubbing your back in an attempt to warm you up. You’re body is immediately ablaze, cheeks warm from blushing and skin hot. 
“It’s this funny thing called fall.” You joke, hugging him back tightly before he tries to shuffle you both back to his room without breaking it. A giggle escapes you when he trips slightly before you let go so he can walk normally and moves to his room with you close on his heels. 
It’s a routine that you both follow easily when you arrive, going to his room to change out of everyday clothes and into something more comfortable. 
He lets you wear one of his band tees and sweats, snatching the pillows from his bed as you change, and then he leads you back out to the living room. 
“I went ahead and got the goonies for you, because you’re a nerd.” He grunts out, moving to put the tape in. “Why are you so early today?” 
“I didn’t go home, I had a meeting after school and came straight here.” You answer, watching his interest peak as he raises an eyebrow. 
“What meeting?” You wait for him to sit on the couch, laying down before extending his arms to grab you so that you both could lay down, pressed to each other as you fixed the blanket. 
“Cheer. They have an opening so I signed up for the auditions.” You mumble, using his chest as a pillow while he looks down at you. 
“You want to cheer?” 
“Yeah. I always have. I used to do it all the time, cheer camp and everything but when I first came to Hawkins someone told me I shouldn’t.” You answer, adjusting the blanket so it covered you both as his hands move to play with your hair. 
Something about Eddie? He was ALWAYS touching you. Found every excuse in the book to do so. And it annoyed you to no end because he was so casual about it and it always left you flustered and a mess. 
“Is that why that kid came up to talk to you today?” He asks, something off about his tone. “Seemed like you knew him.” 
“I have math class with him.” You yawn, closing your eyes and keeping your nose pressed into his chest as you fall asleep. 
Sometime later he wakes you up, half asleep himself to get you both to his room, falling into the mattress and pulling you in to fall back asleep. 
-
“You’re being so weird today.” Gareth snaps through a mouthful of cereal, leaning against the locker next to yours. 
“Shut up.” You mumble out, not daring to look him in the eyes as he draws attention to you both. 
“Why me shut up? Dude this isn’t a good idea.” 
“Gareth. Take it down a notch.” You warn. 
“You want to be on the cheer team? Really?” He scoffs. “That lame group that shares maybe one brain cell between them?” 
“With me there might be more” you try to tease, watching him roll his eyes before another figure emerges. 
“Dude. Where were you last night? I called like 6 times.” Gareth sighs, and you’re just thankful that the conversation moved on from you for a moment. 
“I went to bed. Take it down a notch.” Eddie shrugs, looking at you the same time you looked at him. 
Technically he wasn’t lying. He had gone to bed. “What’s the problem?” 
“My sister wants to join the world of bimbos and stds.” Gareth snaps, and you feel Eddie move forward to avoid being pushed in the crowded hallway, his chest hitting your shoulder with warmth. 
“You want to date Steve Harrington?” He laughs, making you smile back. 
“She wants to be a cheer slut.” 
“Who does?” This time it’s Paul that asks, with Jeff right on his tail. And once again you’re thrown in the center of their arguing. 
“Seriously?” Paul laughs when he is told, blatantly laughing in your face. “That’d be so hilarious!” 
“Hey, come on.” Eddie warns. 
“I mean she’s….” Paul trails off a bit and you find yourself filling in on the words he didn’t say. You’re what? Lame? Ugly? Unlikable? 
“It’s not gonna work.” Gareth shrugs.”I just don’t want you to get hurt buggie.” 
“She’s not gonna make it. And even if she does it’s not like she’ll be on long.” Paul giggles to himself. “You’d have to put out to the-“ 
Eddie and Gareth both punch his shoulders on either side, as hard as they can. 
“See you at cheer practice, ……” a soft voice rings out, drawing your attention to Chrissy Cunningham, a girl in your class. 
She held a small smile, one that said “I got your back.” And you realized what she must have seen, you surrounded by a bunch of guys making fun of you. 
So you give a tiny wave, which makes her smile widen and suddenly you were smiling too, a little happier when she walks off. 
Something light fills your chest until you look back to Gareth who glares at you. “You’re not even in yet and you’re already acting like one of them.” 
“I don’t get why you’re so mad. Paul, you said last band practice that I annoy you guys.” You remind, snatching one of your books as Eddie stands straight suddenly. “Being a cheerleader means I don’t sit in on practices anymore.” 
“Wait; you said that?” Eddie asks, chest still pressed into your shoulder as he holds out his hand to Paul in a shocked way. “Why?” 
“Cause she always-“ 
“Can we get back to the problem at hand? You’re gonna be all cool and popular and lose all your personality.” Gareth snaps. “Just another girl with a pretty smile that the jocks use and abuse.” 
“I’d still hang out with you guys?” You laugh, closing your locker. “What are the chances that we all stop being friends? I live with you, remember Gary?” 
“Whatever bugs.” He huffs, a small smile playing at his lips. 
He waltzes off after that, bowl of cereal in hand as Paul and Jeff follow him to class. Eddie remains, watching you. 
“I don’t know why Paul said that but-“ 
“Eds, it’s fine. He’s a little right at the end of the day. I mean there’s only so much I can talk to you guys about so maybe it’s time I make a couple more friends.” You shrug. 
“You can talk to me about anything though.” Not about the huge crush you have, or the way every time he touches you your heart beats fast. 
“Not about periods or bra sizes.” You joke, moving to walk away, surprised when he follows you. “Aren’t you supposed to be on the other side of school?” 
“You can talk to me about anything.” He states again, this time more serious. “Periods. Bra sizes. Anything and everything.  I just want you to know that.” 
You smile at him, shrugging and walking away to class. 
Two days later you’re rushing home with excited news, a smile splitting across your face as you run to tell everyone.  
Tonight was band practice, which meant all the boys would be in the garage so you’d probably tell them first, your new cheer uniform clutched tightly in your hands as you make your way up. 
You see Eddie’s van parked in the driveway and excitement fills you at the thought of telling him, so you cut across the lawn, just at the point where they can almost hear you when you hear them talking. 
“-I think it’s great that she’s going for the cheer team.” Jeff’s voice rings out, catching your attention “she used to cheer when she was younger right?” 
“Yeah. She stopped when she got to high school. I don’t know man, I just think it’s going to ruin her you know?” 
“At least she won’t be following us around all the time.” Paul grunts out, and your heart clenches. “She’s always there!” 
“That is a good point.” Gareth sighs. “Maybe go and make her own friends.” 
“She’s so annoying. Always talking our ear off about everything and always asking us if she can play DND.” 
“She doesn’t ask us if she can play. She asks how we play and if she can watch.” Jeff corrects. 
“For what though? So she can start coming to those hangouts?! She ruins everything!” Paul snaps and you suddenly feel really stupid. 
“I think you’re right.” Eddie laughs, which makes Jeff and Gareth laugh too and you completely shatter there. 
What happened to you talking to him about anything? 
“I’m just saying man-“ 
“Yeah yeah, we know what you’re saying Paul.” Eddie interrupts him, still laughing. You can’t hear anymore, you turn to head through the front door rather than the garage, storming up to your room and slamming your door. 
-
Eddie was anxious, had been all day since he found out the cheer tryouts were today. 
He didn’t know what he was so worried about in general, and no matter what he tried to talk himself out of he always found something else to worry about. 
What if you got in and stopped hanging out with all of them? No more secret movie nights at his trailer or sneaking you into the hideout so you can watch their shows. 
No more of you coming to band practices and cheering them on. He wouldn’t get to be near you as much. You wouldn’t sit at the table with them and he wouldn’t get to talk to you everyday. 
Or worse, you become one of them and you end up hating him just like they do.  
But then he tells himself that neither of those would happen, you would still be their friends and you loved movie night as much as he did. Or.,….. well he hoped you did. 
Besides, he would be upset if they turned you down. He knew you would be upset and he just wouldn’t be able to handle how sad you would look. 
They would be idiots to turn you away, he’s seen you dance at the hideout….. well more so like he watched you intently like a perv, scared your brother might finally notice just how much Eddie liked you. 
That had been his biggest concern as of late, Gareth. Watching your brother freak out everytime someone tried talking to you or everytime Paul hinted about you, well it made him feel like a shit friend. 
Not to mention it made him feel bad for you. You just wanted to hang out with your brother and his friends, you didn’t need him being all weird about it. 
You especially didn’t need him trailing after you like a lost puppy all the time. 
Which was why he was getting so anxious at band practice, listening to Gareth get into it with Paul over you. 
“This is such bullshit man, I already got you drooling over my sister at every turn-“ 
“I do not!” Paul snaps.
“-and not the rest of the school will be too!” Gareth yells, frustrated. 
“Just wait until she starts dyeing her hair and sucking faces with all the boys on the team!” Paul gags, which makes Jeff roll his eyes. 
“You’re just saying that because you’ve been head over heels in love with her since middle school dumbass. We all see it. And personally I think it’s great that she’s going for the cheer team.” Jeff adds, always the calm one.  “she used to cheer when she was younger right?” 
“Yeah. She stopped when she got to high school. I don’t know man, I just think it’s going to ruin her you know?” Gareth sighs, and Eddie finally recognizes what the biggest problem here was. He was afraid he wouldn’t have your back anymore. 
“At least she won’t be following us around all the time.” Paul grunts out, and Eddie finds himself clenching his fists and trying not to lose his cool. “She’s always there!” 
“That is a good point.” Gareth sighs. “Maybe go and make her own friends.” 
“She’s so annoying. Always talking our ear off about everything and always asking us if she can play DND.” 
“She doesn’t ask us if she can play. She asks how we play and if she can watch.” Jeff corrects which makes Eddie nod. He had countless nights planning the campaigns with you and always offered to teach you, but you never wanted to actually play, instead you gave him ideas on his campaigns. 
“For what though? So she can start coming to those hangouts?! She ruins everything!” Paul snaps. 
“I think you’re right.” Eddie laughs loudly, turning to Jeff in reference to Paul’s crush on you as they all laugh at Paul, who gets completely red in the face at the way they are all calling him out. 
“I’m just saying man-“ 
“Yeah yeah, we know what you’re saying Paul.” Eddie interrupts him, still laughing even though he feels like pummeling his face in. “You’re madly in love with Gareths little sister and she doesn’t like you back so you have to be angry at her for it.” 
“Back off my little sister you freak.” Gareth laughs at paul. “She’s too good for you.” 
She’s too good for everyone, Eddie thinks, turning towards the open garage door waiting to see you. “What time was that shit supposed to end anyways?” 
“All I know is she said she’d be home for dinner.” Gareth shrugs and Eddie still can’t decide if he wants you to make it on the team or not. 
All he hopes for is that they are nice too you. 
So he waits, and waits. Even when they are playing their songs he keeps his eyes on the door for you to emerge. 
Finally Gareths mom comes out smiling to call them in for dinner. 
“What about sis?” Gareth asks as everyone helps his mom set the table. 
“She’s upstairs.” This catches Eddie’s attention, heart thundering as he tries to play it cool. 
“I didn’t see her come in?” Gareth asks, moving to the stairs in an attempt to call you down but your mom is quick to stop him. 
“Don’t. She’s upset and trying to lay down.” 
“She’s upset?” Eddie asks, chest aching. “What happened?” 
“I don’t know. I went to check on her and she was crying. Said she didn’t feel well.” Your mom answers and Eddie’s fist clenched. 
They probably made fun of you, they probably made you cry at the try outs. Jeff taps his shoulder, mouthing a ‘chill out.’ That makes Eddie worried. 
Did Jeff know he had a crush on you too? 
Did Gareth know? 
“Eat up boys.” Your mom orders. 
The next morning was rocky at best. 
You got up and got dressed into your cheer uniform, and then at the last second decided that since you were wearing the uniform why not do your makeup? You wanted to look cute for your first day on the team. 
You hadn’t thought about what you overheard until your brother barged in your room, giving you a confused look as you finish up the final touches on your face, suddenly embarrassed as it all comes rushing back. 
“You made it?!” He asks, which makes you roll your eyes. 
“Yes. Shut up.” You grunt, pushing him out of the way to grab your shoes. 
“Mom said you were upset yesterday, so I figured you didn’t make it.” He shrugs, admiring himself in your mirror before throwing your own brush at you.  
“I just had a migraine.” You lie, trying to play it off. Don’t cry. Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry. 
“Damn. Sorry bugs. I’ll grab time Tylenol before we leave in case it comes back.” And with that he is gone, you hot on his heels to catch up as you dash to pack your lunch. 
“Eddie is swinging by to pick us up.” Gareth informs, snatching an apple and the bottle of Tylenol before moving to count the money in his wallet for lunch. 
“Why?” The only times eddie took you to school were after your movie nights when you were at his house anyways. 
“He offered last night. Let’s go.” Your brother sighs, ushering you to the door. 
“We’ll I don’t wanna intrude and I have something after school so I can just ride my bike.” You’re quick, moving away from your brother in attempt to make it look like you forgot something. “Go on without me.” 
“Bugs, I’m sure Eddie or Paul will give you a ride after your meeting thing. Let’s gooooo.” He groans, pulling you by your hair and out the door. 
When he manages to drag you to the van Eddie leans over to open the door and Gareth waits for you to hop in. 
“I should just ride my bike. I’ve got something after school later and you guys won’t want to wait around-“ 
“We have DnD tonight.” Eddie shrugs. “We’ll be at the school late anyways.” 
There was no winning with these two, so you nod and hop in, trying not to take up too much space as Eddie stares at the uniform. 
“You got in?” 
“Why is everyone so shocked?” You snap, embarrassed and upset. They thought you were annoying and always there and apparently no one believed you would get in the squad. 
“It’s just-“ 
“Is that a donut?” Gareth asks, snatching it from the console. 
“I got it for bugs to cheer her up-“ Eddie starts right as Gareth shoves half of it in his mouth. “Nevermind.” 
“Can we just go?” You snap, attempting to avoid eye contact with both. 
“Are you okay?” Eddie asks, walking with you on your way to your locker after 3rd period, his eyebrows pinched in worry and his eyes wide. 
“I’m fine.” You lie, trying to smile. “Why wouldn’t I be?” 
Maybe because I overheard people I thought were my friends making fun of me, or maybe because the guy I’ve been madly in love with since I met him thinks I’m clingy and annoying. 
“I just wanted to make sure because-“ he grunts out as Steve Harrington elbows him to get past, accidentally shoving him into you and sending you both into the lockers. “God damnit.” 
Eddie is quick to give you space, reaching for the arm that hit the lockers to make sure you’re not hurt as he blinks. 
“I’m fine.” You smile, enjoying the feeling of his hand on your skin. “Did you pack lunch today?” 
“No. But since I stopped to get you breakfast, sorry about that by the way, I picked something up.” He explains, walking with you and dropping his hand. The way he’s staring at you makes you nervous, In the best way. And you try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach as he attempts a smile, until you remember what was said yesterday and those butterflies find themselves in a blender. “Might you be interested in sharing a store made sandwich and sun chips milady?” 
“Oh how thoughtful-“ you begin, joining him in the lunchroom before you see Paul and Jeff already sitting there, panic rising. “But I realized I forgot my lunch. I’ll go get something.” 
“Okay, I can walk up with you-“ Eddie starts, but you stop him. 
“I’m fine! I’ll be good.” You mumble out. “Besides, Paul’s already calling you over.” 
Eddie gives you a worried look, but nods and heads over to the table anyways, all the boys matching in their hellfire shirts as Paul starts loudly complaining about something. 
You realize halfway to the line that your excuse didn’t make sense since you did pack lunch, and you hadn’t grabbed your wallet since this outfit didn’t have pockets so you had no money to buy anything. 
And while you stood there, debating what you should do, you see Chrissy walking towards you in her uniform as well. 
“Hey!” She smiles, moving in to hug you. “I’m so happy you made it! I was worried when there was only two spots and you were soooo good!” 
A small burst of pride settles through you as she compliments you, linking your arms together as she heads to the cheer table. “I was also worried I'd be left alone. But you’re here and we’re gonna be so awesome!” 
She leads you to the table, and takes a seat like it was the most natural thing in the world, meanwhile you were panicking. What would the boys think? Would these girls want you to sit with them? 
You risk a look over to the hellfire table, seeing all of them staring at you with wide eyes, especially Eddie, who had saved the seat next to himself. 
“Girl; come on! We want to do your hair!” Sarah, the captain, giggles and pulls you to sit. 
It was for the better, all the boys thought you were annoying anyways. Maybe they would get a break from you. 
One lunch wouldn’t hurt and you wouldn’t be so annoying. Right?
“Too cool to eat with us now?” Gareth teases, waiting for you after practice. The sun had gone down in Hawkins, and the sweat from practice clung to you making the night air twice as chilly. 
He had a red mark on his cheek, which told you that he probably was being overdramatic during the campaign and smacked himself again. 
“No. I…” you start to explain, right as Eddie comes out of the doors and spots you. “I was going to get lunch, but Chrissy pulled me to the table.” 
“How was it?” Eddie smiles. “You got to see how the other side lived? Any exciting news to report back?” 
“Nothing much,” you smile, walking with them both as they head to Eddie’s car. “I got to know them a little better and they all talked to me about my routine because they like-“ 
Your brother does an overdramatic yawn, tossing the back door to Eddie’s van open and throwing himself in. “Boring already.” 
You roll your eyes, shutting the door on him before moving to hop into the passenger seat. Eddie gets into the driver side, looking to where your brother is already lighting a cigarette. 
“So they liked your routine?” He asks, looking at you as he starts the van. 
“They did!” You smile, excitement bubbling in you as you move to start talking again. 
“Oh my god. No one cares. Are any of them single?” Gareth smiles, and you lean to smack his head before sitting in silence the rest of the ride. 
When you get home you’re the first to hop out, turning to grab your bag as Gareth crawls out. 
“I can get you guys tomorrow? If you’d like.” Eddie offers, face red for some reason. Gareth narrows his eyes at his friend, while you shrug. 
“Actually the girls are gonna come get me early. Thanks though Eds.” You smile, walking away as Gareth says he’ll be ready by 8. 
One lunch turned to another, then another. Then that turned to going and getting a milkshake with the girls after practice and rides from them in the mornings. 
You went from always being around to never in sight, which absolutely shredded Eddie to pieces. 
It’s not like he wasn’t happy for you, you seemed to be always smiling and giggling with them. You went to the mall with them on weekends and always came back ecstatic about everything you got because the girls all said it looked great on you. 
You definitely grew into the feminine side, and his heart exploded everytime he did manage to see you….. and he was ashamed to admit his pants always got tighter whenever he saw you in uniform. 
You messed around with makeup and you always had a style for you hair. 
Eddie loved it for you, he loved that you seemed to go from stunningly beautiful to so stunningly gorgeous any guy at school wanted you. You seemed to enjoy your new look and he was happy for you. He wasn’t happy about the fact that he never saw you anymore. 
So, on a Wednesday afternoon, when he was dropping off a new cover for Gareths guitar while his friend was at work he was excited to see your shoes in the doorway. 
He waltzed up the stairs and knocked on your door, heart hammering through his ribcage as he heard you jump to answer it. 
Then there you were, as beautiful as can be, with nothing on but a tank and shorts. Excitement courses through him, a smile spreading across his face, it has been weeks since he last saw you and now he could ask about movie night. 
“Hey I-“ he stopped short when he saw Adam Hanson sitting on your bedroom floor, staring at him like he was crazy. Of course he was staring at him like he was crazy, Adam was probably wondering why the school freak was at your door. “I was just dropping off this new cover for your brother. Make sure he gets it, yeah?” 
He practically shoves it into your hands, heart thundering and desperate to get out of here. 
“Okay!” You smile at him and he feels his heart clench through his chest. “Actually Adam and I were finishing up homework if you wanted to watch a movie-“ 
Hanging out with you? Dream come true. Hanging out with you and your boyfriend? Fuck. No. So he finds himself lashing out, a mix of embarrassment and jealousy made for a bad situation. “No thanks. I have better things to do than hang out with Gareths baby sister. Or should I say better girls to do.” 
He pairs it with a bullshit wink in adams direction, not daring to look at you as he moves to walk away while you slam the door. 
“Does the freak always talk to you like that?” Adam asks, and Eddie can only hear ringing at the blood rushes to his ears. Freak. 
He doesn’t bother waiting around, instesd he marches straight out of your house and leaves. 
-
You’re in shock when you close the door, eyes welling with tears. 
“Does the freak always talk to you like that?” Adam asks, pulling your attention to him. “Woah, hey don’t cry.” 
“He’s not a freak.” You defend, as you had been doing the past two months. “And he’s never….” 
What? Talked like that before? You didn’t know that, and you knew he had talked about how annoying you were behind your back? So maybe he’s said more things too. 
“Never to my face.” You shrug, wiping away the tears that kept coming. 
Adam sighs, moving to hug you and let you cry. 
“I’m so telling my boyfriend about this.” He sneers and you laugh lightly. 
“I don’t really know what you’re long distance boyfriend will do to help.” 
“Send me treats that I can share with you obviously.” Adam laughs. “Hey, I can stay and watch that movie with you-“ 
“No it’s fine.” You sniffle. “You have a curfew.” 
And he soon enough leaves, worried about you but you keep telling him it’s fine, anger coiling in your gut at every pity look your friend gives you. 
How dare Eddie. How dare he embarrass you and say that. What had you ever done to him? 
Sure you were the annoying little sister but it’s not like he had ever told you to back off or anything. He had always made it seem like he wanted to hang out. 
You couldn’t shake the anger as you went to bed, and suddenly you found yourself in a weird spot. 
The line that had originally been drawn in the sand, on whether you remained their friend or not, had quickly dispersed after that. 
In fact the sand had been kicked through  and suddenly, without warning, you and eddie had been thrown to war. 
Gone were the cute nicknames of Eds and bugs, now when you addressed each other you referred to him as freak and he referred to you as wannabe. 
You let the basketball players push him in the halls and he threw food at you and your friends in the cafeteria. 
When the winter formal rolled around Adam took you, and you had been so excited for it until Eddie made some snide comment when you came down the stairs which sent you into a sour mood the rest of the night. 
When winter break rolled around Gareth had let them come over nearly everyday for stupid band practice and whenever you came home you made sure to enter through the garage just to piss them off, making sure to unplug the amps each time. 
Like today, hands filled with shopping bags as you came home, saying bye to Chrissy as she drove off with a wide smile, and then turning to the garage. 
“Hey bugs.” Gareth greets, which you simply glare to, making sure to hit Eddie’s shoulder with your own as you pass which makes his curse out and spill his drink. 
“Freaks.” You snap, unplugging their amp and hitting the light switch as you head inside. You hear them all groan, and then you take it one step further and turn off the lights in the garage completely by the power box in the kitchen. 
“Damn it!” Gareth snaps when he realizes and you pick up the phone, dialing adams number since you promised to call him earlier. 
He picks up right as the boys all dash inside, Gareth glaring as you pretend like you don’t even see them. 
“Hey handsome, thought I’d call to check in.” You smile through the phone, hearing him laugh. 
“Hello back beautiful.” Adam says, matching your tone. “You bothering the boys again?” 
“Oh. My favorite thing to do-“ you giggle, slapping Gareth's shoulder when he reaches to hang up the phone. “Back off.” 
“I’m getting mom.” He snaps out while Paul and Jeff disappear to the garage again. He dashes to go find your mom which leaves just Eddie in the kitchen, glaring at you. 
“I miss you too.” You coo into the phone, enjoying the way Eddie’s jaw ticks as Adam laughs and plays long, enjoying the game himself. 
“What’s your problem lately, brat?” Eddie snaps, his eyes angry and set. 
“Hold on baby-“ you say into the phone, covering the mouth piece and giving Eddie your best uncaring face. “Can I help you, freak?” 
He reaches forward, cursing under his breath as he reaches around you to hang up the phone. 
“What the fuck-“ you start before he is snatching the handle from your hands and slamming it into the receiver, turning to you fully. 
“Why are you being this way? What the fuck did we do to you?” 
“I’d love to stay and chat, but I have better things to do. Or should I say better men to do.” You smile, moving to stand quickly as his eyes widen. When you move to walk away he goes to grab one of the bags in attempt to keep you in the room, the paper of the bag rips and suddenly everything you bought at that store falls to the kitchen floor. 
Your mouth falls open as Eddie’s eyes widen at the sheer amount of lingerie sets that fall out. 
Not really lingerie, but close to. All lace panties and bras that Chrissy said would look great on you. 
“I’m-“ Eddie begins, moving to help you grab them at the same time you bend to grab them so your heads hit each other. 
“Damn it-“ you gasp out, rushing to grab all the underwear as he helps you to try and shove them all in the bag.
“I didn’t realize you were so into Adam.” He sneers. 
“Oh shut up.” You sneer back, snatching everything into your hands. “Not everything is about sex-“ 
“Of course it is”. He laughs bitterly. “You’re their new play toy.” 
“I swear to god freak-“ 
“What you gonna do brat?” He seethes, getting into your personal space. 
“Everything okay here?” Gareth asks, making you and Eddie jump back. 
“Whatever Gareth.” You push past him, ignoring the excited buzz you feel from Eddie. 
“Are….are you guys good?” Gareth asks eddie the next morning, making Eddie turn to glare at him. “Don’t bite my head off, okay? I just….” 
Eddie stays silent, starting the car as he watches you waltz across the lawn in the cheer uniform. 
“It’s just that she’s been so different lately and for the past couple weeks you have been too. Did you guys break up?” 
Eddie, who had started driving, immediately hits the brakes and whips to look at Gareth. “What?” 
“Did you and my sister break up?” 
“I’m not- what- we never- Gareth-“ Eddie panics, trying to find the right words. “Listen-“ 
“Dude it’s fine. I always knew okay?” 
“Wait wait wait. We never- she and I never-“ what the hell was happening. “Okay let’s back up. You thought we were dating?” 
“Oh come on. All your secret sleepovers? You really thought I didn’t know about those? You know how many times I pretended to call her friends house for you guys so mom didn’t catch her? And all the small little touches you always had or the way you looked at her. Not to mention all the paragraphs about you in her diary-“
“We never dated.” Eddie cuts him off. “She didn’t like me like that.” 
“No man. She did.” Gareth laughs. “She has always liked you like that.” 
He ignores the feeljng bubbling in his chest at the thought, shaking his head. “Why haven’t you tried to kill me if you thought we were dating?” 
“What?” 
“You’re always freaking out about her and guys, and you always threaten Paul whenever he-“ 
“Guys are gross and I don’t want them hurting my baby sister. Paul is a lame excuse for a human beings.” Gareth shrugs. “And I always figured if my sister was going to date someone it should be you. You are…..semi decent.” 
“We never dated. And she hates me now so I hate her.” Eddie starts driving again, shrugging like it didn’t matter. 
“Why does she hate you now?” 
“Not a clue.” He had a slight clue after the other night. 
“Okay well, do you think you can like… fix whatever it is?” Gareth sighs. “I miss my sister.” 
Eddie missed you too. 
-
He didn’t try to talk to you, he had debated it for all of 4 hours before you had to go and ruin it. 
Just when he was starting to talk himself into apologizing he turned the corner to find you, giggling and blushing with none other than Steve Harrington. 
Upon hearing his footsteps you turn, face falling when you see his glare before that bitch look you’ve perfected the past couple weeks falls in its place, making his heart thump wildly as he walks closer. 
“Your brother asked me to apologize.” He bites out, hands catching themselves behind his back as he glares. “Sorry.” 
“Wow. What a great apology.” Harrington smiles making you slap his shoulder with wide eyes until he laughs and nods. “I’ll see you later okay?” He smiles, tapping your nose before walking off with a simple “Bye Munson.” 
Eddie watches him leave before turning back to you with a raised eyebrow, and suddenly he was desperate to piss you off. Desperate to get under your skin the way you got under his. 
“Oh I see. You didn’t get all the panties for one guy, you got them for the whole school.” He smiles, watching your face fall into one of shock. “What’s the deal? Tap you and then get to keep the panties? Having a buy one get one free sale?” 
“Calling me a slut?” You seethed . 
“If the shoe fits baby.” He coos, smiling from ear to ear as you slam your locker and move forward. 
“I hate you!” 
“I hate you back!” He snaps back, matching your tone as you get closer and closer until your chest are pressed against each other. 
“What did I ever do wrong?” You snap, eyebrows pinching in anger and confusion. “I thought you all liked me and-“
He’s confused now, racking his brain for what you mean before he settles on an answer. “You thought the guys you’ve slept with liked you?” 
The second the words come out he hears how bad it sounds, watching as your face falls and he rushes to explain that he was just trying to understand what you meant. But it’s too late and you reach a hand up to twist his nipple. 
“OW! Holy Jesus-“ he gasps in pain, moving his body to try and pull away but you follow easily, pushing him into the nearest supply closet you can. 
By the time you actually let go he is red in the face, using his hand to rub the sore spot and trying to glare. “Do I wanna know where you -NO OW!” 
“Take it back!” You order, already twisting his second nipple which makes him gasp and move to twist your ear. 
A gasp of pain slips from you and you let go of him to pull back, both of you glaring at eachother. 
He’s panting, and so are you, adrenaline coating your nerves. 
“What’s going on lately?” He snaps, still rubbing the sore spot as you glare back. 
“You tell me.” 
“No you tell me! What did I do? Do I embarrass you? Or maybe I just annoy you-“ 
“Bold of you to say! All you and your friends can talk about is how much I annoyed you!” You snap back. 
“Who said that? Tell me and I-“
“You said it!” 
“When would I ever say that?! Is it that night at your house, because sorry if I didn’t want to hang out with you and your boyfriend!” You shove his shoulder lightly and he gasps before doing it back. Acting like literal children. 
You keep shoving each other, back and forth over and over until a laugh slowly starts leaching from both of you. And suddenly it was normal again, not that angry yelling that’s been between you guys for months. 
“Freak.” You giggle.
“Princess.” He laughs back, but then he is peering at you, hands on his hips as he tries to figure out how to fix this. 
But then, without really thinking, you are on him. Your arms wrapping around his neck as you shove your lips to his, his hands immediately flying to your hips as he lets out a surprised grunt while he catches you. 
He’s still as a board for the first second, his brain taking a moment to catch up before he is diving into the kiss himself, grip on your hips tightening as he devours you in the kiss. 
A small moan slips past his lips into yours, pulling you in as tight as he can, making sure to wrap his arms around your waist to make sure you stay close. 
When you manage to pull back you smile, seeing his eyes closed and eyebrows pinched as he takes a breath in. “Gareth was-“ 
“OH YOU UTTER-“ in an instant his blissful daze is broken as you tear yourself from him, snatching the handle of the closet and storming out leaving him confused and breathless. 
His brain registers finally, managing to pull himself together the slightest bit so he can chase after you, reaching for the handle and giving it a pull as he thinks about what he will say. 
You just kissed him, you just did what he has been dying to do for years and then you ran. 
“What the fuck?” He snaps when the door won’t open by the third pull, the handle stuck. “YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING ME!” 
It’s another 30 minutes before someone is there to help him out, the janitor giving him a confused look as Eddie hauls out of there. 
-
Un-freaking-believable. 
You kiss that man child, give it your all and the first thing he says once you’re done is your brothers name. What a freaking imbecile. What a dumb ass. What a-
“Hey girl, you okay?” Someone asks, pulling your attention to where Maria is standing, wearing her cutest party outfit with a small smile playing off her lips. “You were mumbling angrily about a man child.” 
“I….. ugh.” You groan, dropping the brush as all the girls turn to you with excitement. 
“Tell us everything.” Chrissy smiles. 
“How did he feel? Were there fireworks?” Maria asks. 
“Oh my god, he definitely seems like he knows what he is doing.” Abigail giggles and you watch them all in shock as they stare back. 
“What?” 
“Your first kiss! How was it?” Chrissy explains, eager to know. 
“I….. I didn’t kiss Steve Har-“ 
“Ew, of course not you have standards.” Maria laughs. “But you’re obviously frustrated about a boy and I’m betting you finally kissed Munson.” 
“You….. you guys know I-?” You can’t find the words, embarrassment clawing at you as they all giggle and cheer at having caught you. 
“Oh my god, were his lips soft?” Abigail squeals. 
“Was he gentle? Or like possessive? I love possessive guys.” Maria groans. 
“Did he treat you like heaven? Oh he’s always got this love sick look when you walk by!” Chrissy kicks her feet, all three really excited. 
“Yes. Yes and yes. And no, he actually- ugh- he only sees me as Gareths little sister.” You whine, falling into the bed. “I kiss him and for a second it’s just like, amazing, and when we stopped kissing I was expecting this romantic thing. Maybe he would be all like ‘wow’ or tell me I’m beautiful. You know what the first word he said was?” 
“What?” 
“Gareth.” You explain, and they all gasp like it’s the worst thing in the world. So, ever the amazing friend, you sit up and start telling them everything. 
“I kind of like the way your brother protects you,” Maria blushes. “I mean the boys at Hawkins are all so…. “
“Sex crazed?” Abigail finishes the thought. 
“Yes. And Gareth has always been respectful to me.” Maria smiles. 
“Do you have a crush on my brother?” You giggle, staring at her. 
“No!” She blurts, then smiles a bit. “Okay maybe.” 
And just like that all 4 of your are laughing and planning for the party. 
The party at Jason Carvers house was the last place Eddie Munson wanted to be, truthfully he wasn’t even sure he was allowed. The good news is he hadn’t been kicked out because he was the dealer. 
So he pretended like he was there to sell, really he was looking around for you. This was a last minute plan to talk to you, figure out where he had went wrong and try to fix it. 
Figure out how to kiss you again but he’d take anything at this point, even a friendship. He’d keep his feelings in check. 
30 minutes in to the party and he was beginning to think it was a bust, but then there you were, surrounded by 3 other girls he was sure were on the team, as they all passed by glaring at everyone like they were the queens of the universe. 
And they were, all of them beautiful and untouchable. Especially you. 
It’s like the earth stopped spinning whenever you walked in the room, Eddie’s lungs expanding as he stared at the way you greeted everyone, or rather everyone lunged to greet you. 
Eddie went to greet you, then thought vetter of it and moved to the back of the room and started to talk to the kid that had money waiting for him. 
He keeps along the sidelines of the party, letting you do your thing as he tries to come up with what to say. 
Remember when you rocked my world less than 7 hours ago? Yeah that was amazing and I miss you. 
“You okay there bud?” Someone asks, pulling his attention to where Maria, co captain of the cheer team, is smiling at him over her cup. 
“Yeah, just came in for a refill.” He nods to the keg, an obvious lie since he would never drink that piss water. 
“Right. Okay.” She smiles, and he moves to grab a cup and fill it up so it looks like the truth. “It’s cute, the way they all crowd around her.” 
He, without needing to ask, looks for you immediately . Spotting you by the pool surrounded by a bunch of guys, all desperate to talk to you. 
“Yeah I guess.” He shrugs, spine tense and doing his best not to clench the cup in his fist. 
“Well the guys surrounding her aren't what’s cute. It’s the way she keeps looking for you.” Maria giggles, obviously too drunk to keep her eyes open. “Look, right there.” 
Sure enough he sees you look around, bored of the conversation at hand as one of the guys snakes his arm around your waist. 
He doesn’t know what he’s doing, feet already moving as Maria giggles out while he dashed outside right at the moment the tool throws you both in the booth as you scream. 
His breath stops and he waits a moment for you to emerge, your eyes immediately meeting as you struggle to get to the edge of the pool, the strap of the dress you wore broken. 
The girls are all there to help you as the tool, Tommy something, reaches to pull you back in. Eddie makes quick work of pushing him in with his foot, and snatching you from the water while doing his best to make sure you’re not too exposed. 
“You okay?” He whispers, hand sliding up your body to cover your breast as you try to fix the strap quickly. 
“Y-yeah.” You sniffle, obviously holding back tears. “I’m fine.” 
The girls, your friends, are all yelling at Tommy and the other cheerleaders soon join and start throwing stuff at him in the water, Harrington pushing him back in whenever he tries to crawl out. 
“He was just being silly.” You try to ease yourself, struggling with the strap of the dress. “I don’t know why I’m upset.” 
“You were just thrown into water. It’s okay to be upset.” He smiles, shrugging off his jacket and moving to place it around you so you’re covered. “You wanna leave?”
“Yes please.” You nod, and he gets to moving, pulling you with him as your 3 friends all wave and smile like they know something, cooing out a “bye eddie.” At the same time. 
He gives them a tight wave, helping you out since you seemed to have lost a heel in the pool. 
“Is this even considered a dress?” He scoffs, leading you to his van. 
“It’s very popular in france.” You answer, letting him pull you down the street where his van is hidden, helping you into the back of it. 
-
By the time he pulls into the trailer park he can’t hear you, which means you're definitely passed out back there, and he feels guilty over every pothole and bump he hits before he is pulling into his regular parking spot. 
Wayne’s car is gone so he assumes his uncle is already at work, hopping out of the van and going along the back to open the door you’re closest to. The blanket had moved around a bit, exposing your legs to him and the smallest sight of your panties that has him feeling guilty and quickly readjusting the blanket as he rubs circles on your back to wake you up. 
“Let’s go princess.” He hums, helping you crawl out and get into the house. 
“It smells like….” 
“Sorry.” He blushes, embarrassed. “I didn’t really clean like I normally did whenever you came over.” 
“It’s fine. I was gonna say it smells like you.” You mumble, waiting for his cue to go further into the trailer. It was odd for him, watching you wait, and he’s suddenly reminded about all the time you’ve been separated. This wasn’t a regular movie night, you hadn’t had one of those in months. You probably didn’t feel comfortable being here. 
“I c-can go turn on the shower so it’s hot for you. Give you a moment to relax.” He offers, smiling when you nod before moving to the bathroom to start the shower. He knocks on Wayne’s bedroom door just in case before waltzing into the bathroom and starting the water, making sure the shampoo and body wash are both ready for you and setting up a towel for you to use. 
When the bathroom starts steaming he moves to go get you, jumping a little when he runs into you at the door. 
“Sorry!” He blurts, trying to step out of your way. You shrug, moving past him and into the bathroom, not waiting for him to leave before you shuck his sweater off and move to take the dress off. 
“Help…” you mumble, struggling to roll the fabric off since it was soaking wet and unable to reach the zipper. 
So he moves forward, ready to help you, until you stop him. “Shut the door Eds, you’re letting all the warm air out.” 
He rushes to shut the door for you, tripping over his feet and accidently falling into the door which makes it slam shut and you gasp out. “Are you okay?” 
“Yep. Yeah. Fine.” He mumbles, standing straight and trying to play it off like it was smooth. “Y-you still want help?” 
“Yes.” You nod, watching him closely to make sure he is okay before turning back around and fixing your hair so he can see the zipper. 
With shaky hands he slides it down, enjoying the way your skin shivers at the feel of his fingers down your back, before he helps you slide the fabric off your hips for it to land on the floor. 
Your skin is cold from the fabric, and it reminds him of coming in after a snowball fight and having to fight to get the jeans off leaving him in the damp but not yet wet skin.  
Without meaning to his eyes trail across your exposed back, heart stopping when he realizes you had forgone a bra and only had a pair of panties on. 
“I….” He tries to find words, watching you turn your head to peer at him over your shoulder. “I’ll go.” 
“You’re gonna leave me to shower in silence?” You scoff, slipping the panties off, obviously unaware of the torture you are inflicting when you toss them with the dress and move to step into the shower. 
Your legs are shaky, and he’s panicked. You might slip so he moves to help you step into the tub, his hand wrapped around your elbow gently as he makes sure to keep his eyes on your face. 
“Stay and talk to me?” You ask, and he’s sure you’re just messing with him. Torturing him as payback as you close the curtain and step into the water. 
He sits on the toilet, using the towel he had gotten you as a cover on his lap just in case you peaked your head out, he didn’t need you seeing his massive boner like the freak he was. 
“Why were you at the party?” You ask after a moment. “You hate Jason Carver.” 
“I needed to sell.” He answers a little too quickly.  
“Did I ruin your sell’s since you had to help me leave?” You ask, guilt in your voice. “I’m sorry I-“ 
“I made enough.” He interrupts you, struggling to breathe in the shirt with the steam. “Why were you at the party? You used to hate Jason Carver too.” 
“I still do. Ugh he’s the worst and he’s always following Chrissy around like a little puppy. And he’s so mean to everyone.” 
“He’s friends with Adam isn't he?” He finds himself asking, and never in his wildest dreams did he ever think he would be gossiping about the jocks. Especially with you. 
“Not really, Jason said some really messed up things when Adam told everyone he’s gay.” You explain and Eddie snaps his head towards the direction of the curtain. 
“He’s gay?!”
“You can’t tell anyone okay? It’s a secret and he wants to come out himself.” You answer back, and Eddie finds himself standing up. 
You must see his figure get up through the curtain, because you open the curtain and peak your upper body out. “You’re not leaving are you?” 
“N-no. I’m just shocked. I thought you and Adam were…” 
“Absolutely not. Mom would never allow Adam in my room if he we were.” You laugh. 
“So that night you invited me for the movie, you weren’t dating him?” He was stupid, so entirely stupid.
“No? Why would I invite your for a movie in front of my boyfriend?” You laugh, and he can’t seem to process anything. Stepping forward so he was within arms length of you. 
“So you weren’t inviting me to hang out with you and your boyfriend. You were actually wanting to hang out with me?” 
“Yes?” You roll your eyes. “And I know it’s lame. I’m just Gareths little sister and all that-“ 
You disappear from his view once more, pulling both the curtains into the middle to close off the shower again as you keep going. “But I actually thought you liked hanging out with me. You know? And maybe if I gave you guys space I wouldn’t be the annoying little sister all the time but then that day rolled around and you…. It was silly. I shouldn’t have asked you-“ 
A small shriek falls from your lips as he whips the right curtain open, glaring at you. 
“What the fuck do you mean give us space? Who said what?” He’s angry now, jaw set as he glared. “What’s all this about being annoying and suddenly giving us space. Is that why you don’t sit with us?” 
“Yes! You guys just think I’m Gareths annoying little sister!” You snap, and Eddie realizes that you’re completely naked right now, so he quickly shuts his eyes with a groan and pulls the curtain back sharply, keeping it clenched in his fist as he tries to relax. 
“We don’t think that.” He snaps, eyes still squeezed shut. Truth was he always tried not to think of you as Gareths little sister, with the amount of times he’s imagined you-
You snap the other curtain to the side, letting some of the water hit his jeans and making his snap his eyes open right as you push your face close to his. “I heard you guys!” 
“You heard us? When was this, Princess? Cause I’ve never-“ 
“The day of my tryouts! I came home and you guys were talking about how annoying I was and-“ he realizes then what you had heard, his eyes widening as he stares at you before he leans forward to catch his lips onto yours, a small gasp falling from you as he lets go of the shower curtain to wrap around you. Only problem was he was leaning into you and you didn’t have a proper stance so you slipped, and he fell forward into the tub, cursing out to try and catch you both as you accidently bit down on his lip. 
He keeps one arm around your shoulders, his other catching the tub floor just in time as his body lands on yours. 
The water is hitting his back, soaking his clothes as his boner pressed into your naked form, blood leaking from his lip where you bit. 
“Are you okay-“ he begins to panic, but you’re already pushing up to pull him into another kiss, moaning at the taste of iron as your hands slide up his hips until they manage to crawl beneath his shirt and feel at his back, trying to inch the shirt off. 
He pulls back to lean up, whipping the shirt off and flinging it out of the tub, panting as you try to move so the water doesn’t hit you in the face while he moves to help you. 
“It was Paul that day.” He explains. “I don’t know what you think you heard but it was only Paul saying that. Jeff was making fun of him because the tool has a massive crush on you and- shit I’m no better am I? I’ve been dreaming about you every fucking night since I met you.” 
And once again, like two magnets, you find yourself kissing him again and he is obsessed with his. Obsessed with your taste and the way your body melds into his own as you press your chest into his. When you reach for his belt buckle he moves a hand down to stop you, shaking his head through the kiss and moving to stand with you. 
You follow, clumsy and confused, especially when his hands slide to your hips to turn you around so your back is to his chest. 
“What are you-“ your question is met with his hand sliding across your stomach and further down until his fingers find purchase in your folds, a soft moan slipping past your lips that has his blood thrumming. 
“Is this okay?” He whispers, feeling the water hit both you as you nod quickly, his name slipping past your lips. “I need to hear it, please.” 
“Yes!” You snap, your hand moving to push his wrist to apply pressure. “Eds please!” 
So he lets himself, pressing his thumb into your clit as he leans to kiss at your neck, his lip stinging against your skin as you mean out when he moves to slowly press a finger into you. 
“You’re not just the annoying little sister.” He whispers into your skin, fully pushing his finger in and wiggling it until he was ready for another, pulling it out to press both in. “I’ve never seen you like that.” 
“Eds.” You gasp out, keeping one hand on his arm as the other flies to his hair, clenching and pulling it into your fists. 
“If anything princess, I’ve tried talking myself into believing it.” He grunts out, pushing his fingers in quicker than last time. “But you’re not. You’re my girl. Right?” 
“Yes.” You blurt quickly, tugging at his hair and tilting your head to try and kiss him. He doesn’t let you, keeping his own lips pressed into your neck. 
“You’re my girl?” He asks again, voice deeper as his fingers speed up, his thumb circling your clit. The feeling of your body pressed to his, the way your hips rotate ever so slightly to try and match his movements and accidently rub your ass against his crotch. 
His jeans are now soaked, even if they weren’t from the water he is sure he’d have a wet patch from all the pre cum leaking out as he grunts out at the friction. 
“Yes. Always.” You answer, gasping at the pleasure. 
“Promise?” He grunts, nipping a bit as you try once more to kiss him. 
“Eds please!” You cry, hips moving faster as you chase your high on his fingers. 
“Promise me princess.” He growls and your eyes squeeze shut, eyebrows pinching together as your face contorts into one of pure pleasure. You barely manage to yell out a quick “swear it.” as you shake against him, making a smile spread across his lips. 
“Atta girl.” He coos, finally allowing you to tug him into a kiss, biting down on your lip as you kiss him like your life depended on it. “You wanna go to bed?” 
“Yes please.” You sniffle, swiping the bangs from his forehead as he leans to turn off the water; keeping a hand on you at all times while he manages to get you both out of the shower. 
Wrapping a towel around you and snatching both your clothes quickly before leading you to his room.  
The second he shuts the door behind him he sees you drop the towel and crawl across the bed to fall into the pillows, not even giving him a moment to grab you a shirt. 
“Wait. Lemme grab you-“ he starts, struggling to shuck off the soaked jeans and boxers before you are moving to help, helping him step out of them and dragging your hands up his thighs until they reach his hips and you’re pulling him into the bed with you. 
“I thought you wanted to sleep?” He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your collarbone as you both crawl up the bed. 
You fall into the pillows, hair splayed out as you smile at him, wrapping your legs around his hips while he covers you both with his comforter, trying to warm up. 
“I said go to bed. Not to sleep.” You mumble with a small attitude, canting your hips up into his own which makes him moan loudly. “This is bed, isn’t it?”
“Oh, smarty pants are we?” He laughs, pressing a kiss to your temple as he melts into you. His forearms slid under the pillow as he let his body weight lay against yours, kissing you ever so slowly as you tried to wiggle around and make it work. He lifts his hips for a moment to help you out, and once you’re settled he presses into you, beginning to grind himself against your folds as you hug each other close. 
“Jesus Christ.” He gasps, eyes squeezed shut as he presses his forehead to your own. 
“Who knew the satanist was so religious ?” You tease, pushing your hips forward trying to gain more friction. 
“Gotta be right now. It’s not everyday a freak like me has a cheerleader in his bed.” He smiles, kissing the corner of your lips softly. 
“I mean it could be.” You offer, making him freeze for a moment. “Or maybe in the drama room. I’ve had tons of ideas about the locker room too.” 
“Princess-“ he grunts, reaching a hand to cover your lips. “Please. You’re ruining me.”
You lick his lips and laugh when he pulls away to reach for his nightstands, moving your hips against his and kissing at his chest as he searches, getting more and more frustrated. 
“Come on- shit baby- I- please- I gotta find a condom just give me a moment please.” He gasps out, and you smile at him. 
“Forget it. I want you. Come on.” You coo and watch him physically shutter, hips pressing into yours tightly as his hands roll into fists and his eyes shut tightly. 
“Eds?” 
“Stop. Give me - fuck- a moment princess.” He grunts, shaking a bit. “I’m gonna bust before I even start.” 
So, being the brat you are, you push your hips up until he is entering you, moaning a bit as he gasps loudly. 
“No no no no.” He gasps out, which makes you freeze.
“Is it wrong? I’m sorry?” You panic, moving to pull your hips back quickly which makes his hand snap out to stop you. 
“It’s not wrong. I just- I refuse to cum.” He blurts, keeping you in the spot with a tight hold. “I can’t cum so soon.” 
“You can.” You whisper, kissing at his neck and nipping at the skin here and there. “I wanna feel it.” 
“I hate you.” 
“I hate you too.” You giggle. “And I need you to move.” 
He takes a deep breath in, giving himself one more moment to try not to cum and then begins moving his hips. Slowly at first, moaning softly as you wrap around him perfectly, moving himself so he was laying on top of you and hugging your body to his before he begins a brutal pace of snapping his hips into yours. 
You stay close, both hugging each other as he moves, the bed thumping against the wall with each thrust. 
Your moans quiet the closer you get to finishing, turning into strangled grunts and mewls as both of you focus in. The sounds of skin slapping just adding to the pleasure of it all as you come undone around him, making him gasp out as he lets go, filling you easily. 
“Oh my god.” He breathes out, shoving his nose into your neck as you try to breathe. 
“There’s that religion again.” You tease, eyes closing as your body finally relaxes. You don’t hear his response, numbing out a bit, snuggling close until his warmth is ripped from you and you have no choice but to open your eyes. 
“No no. You’re not sleeping yet.” He grunts, slapping your thigh lightly before helping you shuffle. “I’ll help you to the bathroom.” 
So he puts on a pair of boxers, putting you in one of his band tees and helping you shuffle to the bathroom to pee, and grab a warm washcloth so he can clean you up while kissing all over your face and whispering sweet nothings in your ear. 
“My good girl.” He murmurs, leaving a kiss on your ear before leading you back to the room and shoving the towels and dirty clothes in his hamper with the washcloth. 
You tuck yourself into his bed, waiting for him before you close your eyes and get comfortable. 
“Freak.” You whisper out, face pressed into his chest.
“Wannabe.” He murmurs back, playing with your hair as you finally fall asleep.
You’re woken up by the shrill ringing in Eddie’s trailer, snapping awake as he lunges up and blinks. 
The ringing stops after a minute, and then Wayne’s voice breaks out calling for Eddie. 
“The phone!” He calls, making Eddie roll over you to pick up the phone. 
You giggle when his body collapses on top of you as he answers, catching the smile he sends your way. 
“It’s Eddie.” He grunts, eyebrows shooting up when the person on the other side yells. 
“You know where my sister is?! She was supposed to be home last night and-“ 
“She’s here, calm down. She slept in the couch.” 
‘Liar’ you mouth as he rolls his eyes, pinching your side. 
“Okay. I’m coming to get her.” You hear Gareth snap before Eddie shakes his head. 
“No. I’ll drop her off when she wakes up. I’ll be by for band practice anyways.” 
You hear Gareth mumble something out before the receiver clicks and Eddie hangs up on his end. 
“How’d he know to call here?” You ask, reaching a hand up to play with his hair. 
“He thought we were dating already.” 
“Oh?” You laugh before he bites on your collarbone. “Freak.” 
“Wannabe.” He grunts out, and before you know it you both are stripping once more, being quiet since Wayne is in the other room. 
The cafeteria is a mess Monday morning, everyone yelling as some music plays over the speakers to get everyone excited for the game later. 
You took a moment to look across the room, not really being able to see much due to how crowded it was, but you made it to the cheer table, saying hi to the girls as they all giggled over the mark on your neck. 
“You wanna go sit over there?” You ask your three closest friends, wiggling your eyebrows. 
“You’re out of uniform aren’t you?” Jason asks, eyes narrowing at your shirt. Today you had chosen to wear a hellfire shirt over your cheer uniform. 
“Technically not.” Steve adds from the next table over, glaring at Jason. 
“What happened to your face?” You ask, eyes wide at how bad he looked. 
“Byers.” Steve grunts, and you laugh before the girls get up to follow you to the table. 
All four of you, (Chrissy, Maria and Abigail) walk up slowly, making all the guys stop and look up.
“Can we sit?” You ask, watching Eddie’s face burst into an excited grin as Gareth quickly snatches a chair for Maria. Abigail and Chrissy take the last two open spots and there was no more room. 
“I can grab a chair-“ Eddie starts, already standing to grab one before you shake your head, moving to sit on his lap. 
“I’m good here.” You smile, making him smile back and kiss your shoulder through the shirt. 
“Are you coming to DnD?” Paul asks as Gareth pretends to gag at you and Eddie. 
“No, we have a game tonight that I have to cheer at. But I figured I can wear this until then.” You shrug. 
“Where’s yours Eddie?” Paul asks, glaring at the dungeon master. 
Eddie raises a brow, and the entire table seems to freeze as they slowly realize that Paul hasn’t figured it out yet, even with you in Eddie’s lap. 
“What?” He asks, looking around. 
“This is mine.” Eddie mumbles, pinching some of the fabric of your shirt between his fingers. 
“You’re wearing his shirt? Gareth, you’re gonna allow that?!” 
Another moment of silence passes before the entire table is laughing in his face, Eddie pressing his nose into your back with his hands on your hips as he cackles. 
“What’s so funny?! Gareth said none of us could date his sister!” 
“No, I said you couldn’t date my sister, nerd bomber.” Gareth laughs. 
“What does it matter?” Eddie laughs. “I thought she was Sooooo annoying!” 
He imitates Pauls voice for the last part which sends the table into another fit of laughter. 
“Don’t you have a girlfriend in canada?” Chrissy asks, turning to you. “That was him right, the one dating the model in canada?” 
“W-we broke up. I dumped her.” Paul corrects which makes the girls laugh harder. “You guys suck.” 
“And you swallow!” You snatch one of Eddie’s pretzels to throw it at his forehead, hitting him perfectly as he glares. 
“Not funny.” He mumbles, and the table absolutely loses it. 
-
You’re surprised when you see Eddie leaning against the bleachers that night, now in his hellfire shirt and leather jacket as you get ready to perform with the girls. 
When he spots you looking he sends a wink, crossing his arms as he watches the routine. When you’re done you dash over as the game starts, giving him a quick kiss. 
“Aren’t you supposed to be-?” 
“I had a couple minutes. Thought I’d come see what all the excitement was about.” He smiles, surveying the game going on from your spot in the corner. 
“What do you think?” 
“Well seems pretty boring to watch Harrington and Carver fumble around, but there was this really smoking cheerleader.” He chuckles making you roll your eyes. 
“Freak.” 
“Wannabe.” 
“Brute.” 
“Brat.” 
“Airhead.” 
“Princess.” He smiles, kissing you one more time. “You wanna come watch the campaign?” 
“I have to dance at halftime and cheer them on. You’ll tell me about it later though?” You ask, giving him your best doe eyes. 
“You got it.” He smiles, bringing your hand up to kiss your knuckles before shaking it so the Pom Pom shakes. “Decide on what movie for tonight?” 
“I might be willing to give Texas Chainsaw one more shot.” You smile. “I think you deserve it.” 
You already know he won’t make it 10 minutes into the movie without jumping your bones anyways. 
“I was thinking breakfast club.” 
“Absolutely not.” 
“Why not?” 
“Cause I might actually want to watch the movie.” You tease before Chrissy calls you. 
Giving him one more kiss before dashing to cheer with the girls, Eddie watches you for a moment before leaving to go play DND. 
The second you both are done you meet by the drama room doors so that you can go to his place for movie night, a new routine you had built up. 
Weekends were for your friends; these nights were for just you two.
TAGLIST :: (Lmk if you want removed or added for more Eddie fics.)
@h-ness1944
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samkerrworshipper · 2 months
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sugar baby | alexia putellas x reader
a big big big thank you to @codiemarin because this fic would not exist without her suggestions and ideas!!! also back from my hiatus (maybe) hope yall enjoy!
warnings: smut 18+ minors dni
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This had become normal for you.
Every second night, instead of lying in the comfort of your own sheets or servicing clients in the club you used to work at, you were standing in the kitchen of your newest employer, plating up the takeout that had been chosen for tonight.
Sunday nights were take out nights, because it was typically Alexia’s game night, which meant she was starving by the time she was home and looking for a quick eat. Majority of the time, she was riding on an adrenaline high, which meant one thing, you were in for it.
Sunday’s had very quickly become your favourite night of the week for this reason, Sunday night had expectations, ones that Alexia was extremely specific about.
You were to have dinner done by the time she was home, you were to be wearing whatever lingerie she’d most recently bought for you, the shortest skirt in your wardrobe and your cunt and ass stuffed with the vibrator and butt plug that Alexia required you to wear in preparation before she got home.
Normally, being stuffed exhilarates you, it’s your favourite way to spend your afternoons in Alexia’s apartment, as you aimlessly clean and spend time on Alexia’s balcony reading in the Barcelona sun. Normally, she edges you for hours before she returns home, controlling the vibrator stuffed in your pussy with the app on her phone. Today though, she’s left you stuffed but with no stimulation. It’s equally exhilarating knowing that Alexia is giving you a bit of a break, knowing that it means she’s going to destroy you as soon as she walks through the door.
Alexia after a game is always your favourite version of Alexia, it’s like all of the control issues, the built up adrenaline and exhaustion somehow mix into a perfectly horny Alexia who always managed to make you feel good in all of the worst ways.
You swore that you didn’t hear the door open or Alexia’s footsteps making their way through her apartment, slowly approaching you, too focused on plating up the food and making it look less like it had been crammed into a plastic container and more like it was a home cooked meal. Chances were Alexia couldn’t care less, as long as everything was clean and put away by the time she got home and the food was good then none of it really mattered.
She snuck up on you, her hand gently placing itself on the back of your neck. You did your best not to scream in surprise, instead squealing as quietly as possible at the warm hand that was now pressed firmly against your mostly bare thigh.
Ale’s breath is also equally as warm against your neck, you can tell just by her grip and firmness that it’s been a tough game, a bad day for her standards.
You never check the scores on her matches for this exact reason, it meant that there was always some element of surprise as to how Alexia’s mood was going to be when she arrived home, if it was a good game, an easy game, then she tended to be a bit more mellowed out, floaty and happy on the adrenaline high she was coming off of, bad games however could result in many different versions of Alexia.
“Hola.”
Your voice is croaky, the sudden pressure on the nape of your neck making it harder to enunciate.
“Hola.”
Alexia’s voice is short and scrapy, like she’s been yelling for hours upon hours, which you suppose could be the case.
“Dinner is on the table, from Clarice’s.”
It’s a boutiquey mediterranean place that Alexia loves.
For you, it’s mind boggling that she’s willing to spend such an insane amount of money on food that is only half decent, you suppose, though when you have exorbitant amounts of money you might as well spend it.
“You’re eating with me.”
Alexia doesn’t wait for you to take in her words, she grabs onto the hair at the base of your neck and pulls you towards the dining table, dragging you with her.
You don’t normally eat with Alexia, preferring to talk with her after her games or prepare yourself how she wished for whatever the rest of the night was going to entail, tonight though she seemed to have other plans.
Instead of guiding you into one of the seats at the table like you’d expected though, Alexia took her own seat, before dragging you down to your knees below her.
The floor was hard on your bare knees, not that you actually minded.
Alexia kept her hand in your hair, locked down on a clump of roots at the lowest point of your hairline where your neck and hair met.
She didn’t have to say much, her spare hand tugging at the waistband of her shorts was enough of an indication of exactly what she was expecting you to eat.
Your hands replaced Alexia’s, nails digging into the elastic of her shorts and tugging them down her ass and thighs. You didn’t take your time, not when Alexia was clearly so worked up, you dragged them off of her until they were still pooled at her ankles.
Next you moved onto her panties, taking them off with the same intention as her shorts.
You didn’t waste any time staring at the clear wet patch on Alexia’s panties, or the scuffs and scratches up and down her knees and thighs that told you the game had been rougher than she was letting on.
Her knee was cold, you realised that when your shoulder brushed up against it, like she’d had an ice pack pressed to it until she’d walked into the apartment.
Once her panties were off, you took a second to admire her, spread out directly in front of you.
It was one of your favourite sights, quite possibly your number one.
You started at Alexia’s knee, pressing warm sloppy kisses to the skin on the inside, slowly making your way up to where she wanted you most.
Were you purposely teasing her?
maybe.
It didn’t take long, a couple of wet, rough kisses along the sensitive skin of her inner thigh managing to be enough to earn you a harsh pull of your hair, jerking your head backwards so you were looking up at Alexia.
She has a fork in her hand, clearly enjoying her meal.
“Don’t test me, keep teasing me and you won’t like the consequences.”
Alexia’s voice is definite, if you disobey her then she’s going to punish you, it’s a clear outline of her expectations.
Normally, you’d put yourself right in the middle on the scale of brattiness and submission, maybe teetering a little bit further towards the bratty side.
You knew where to toe the line though.
Praise was something you craved, you didn’t necessarily like to be constantly in trouble, you liked to please people and the easiest way to do that was to obey.
So without much fuss, you gently pulled your head from Alexia’s grip, moving past her thighs and with slight hesitation giving her exactly what she wanted.
You started with one thick, broad stroke, directly through her heat.
She was soaked, like she’d been anticipating this her whole way home, which sent a shiver down your spine.
Alexia pushed you where she wanted, up to her clit, you got the message and started to suck, hard.
It was exactly how Alexia liked it, your teeth grazing her most sensitive place every so often, her hips jerking so slightly when you did.
You weren’t all that surprised when her hand reached from your hair to the place inbetween your shoulders, tapping until you correct your posture.
It was random things like that Alexia was a complete freak over, posture, cleanliness, little stupid things that you couldn’t have cared less about.
Yet for some reason, you found yourself adjusting to how Alexia wanted you, even if it meant your head was that much closer to hitting the bottom of the table and your back was now cramping. It was worth it if it meant that Alexia was more at ease and you could avoid punishment.
Alexia wasn’t a loud lover, on a good day the best you could get out of her was a groan or if it was a really good day then a moan, it wasn’t any surprise to you though if you couldn’t get anything out of her.
Alexia stayed silent, apart from the noises of her slowly making her way through the food you’d plated up for her.
You had become a master of Alexia’s body, it was necessary considering she was so quiet, you knew her tell tale signs and exactly when she was close and how to get her there.
It didn’t take long, it never really did after a game.
You were no scientist or professional as far as women's health went, but you assumed it had something to do with all of the hormones and energy that was built up, it put a person closer to the edge.
You weren’t surprised when Alexia’s thighs slowly began to tighten on either side of your head and her grip on your hair became so tight that you struggled to move against her.
Everything in Alexia’s body tensed up, she went rigid and then finally, without any show at all, she relaxed, her clit throbbing underneath your mouth and thighs relaxing on either side of your head.
As soon as she’d come you moved your mouth down from her clit, cautious of over stimulating her too early and instead moving down to her opening and cleaning up the mess that you’d made.
It might have just been the best dinner you’d ever had.
You keep your mouth on her, not wanting to displease her in any way.
As she’s finishing her food and you lazily kiss and lick her pussy you become progressively more aware of the pooling wet heat that has begun to settle into your panties and is slowly beginning to leak out across your thighs, you feel so full and yet so empty, craving to feel more than the motionless toys that you’ve been stuffed with for hours.
Almost as soon as Alexia is setting her fork down on her plate she’s pushing your head away from her, pushing you back until your ass is sitting on top of the backs of your heels.
“Clean up, I’ll be waiting in the bedroom.”
Before you can nod your head Alexia is already standing, walking off towards her bedroom and leaving you on your knees in front of the chair she’d previously occupied.
With sore knees and arousal dripping all over your face you stood up, collecting Alexia’s empty plate and walking unsteadily towards the sink and washing it off before stacking it into the dishwasher. You do the same with her cutlery before closing the dishwasher and putting away any other mess you’d made and making sure the kitchen was as you’d found it, if Alexia found anything out of place in the morning you knew she’d punish you for it, so you took time making sure every meticulous detail was correct.
Alexia kept her home as she kept herself, organised to an obsessive point, everything had a specific space or place that it had to occupy. She had a dish for the tv remote, an alphabetically sorted spice rack, every painting, picture and frame had to be centred and her wardrobe was sorted into so many different categories that you struggled to comprehend how a person could put together an outfit everyday without having an aneurysm.
Alexia loved it though, and for whatever reason she expected you to uphold her level of cleanliness.
Once you were certain that the room was exactly how Alexia liked it, you began walking towards Alexia’s bedroom, your favourite room in her apartment.
The door was half open, giving you a glance into the space before you stepped foot into the doorway.
The lights were dimmed and whilst you couldn’t see Alexia, you could see the items she’d left out on top of the bed spread and it had you quaking from the inside to out.
The anticipation of actually getting to see Alexia is enough to get you through the door, slowly pushing the door open and allowing yourself to step foot in the room.
It didn’t take long for you to find Alexia, she was standing in the doorway of her wardrobe, hands on her hips and leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination.
She was stark naked, excluding the strap that was hanging from the space in between her legs.
The red dildo was one that you’d never seen before, and for that you were glad.
It looked far larger than anything you’d ever taken with Alexia, there were veins up and down the length of it and the girth alone was intimidating, the length though, the length was enough to make your eyes pop out of your skull.
Alexia looked as smug as ever, the cocky grin on her face and the way that her muscles bulged out just above the strap. Alexia’s got a good body, she knows it, everybody on earth who has a functioning brain knows it. It’s one of your guilty secrets that you get it all to yourself, that you get to see parts of her body that nobody else gets to. You’ve seen thousands of women, super models, athletes, people from all walks of life but you’re fairly certain that nobody would ever come close to Alexia Putellas.
It wasn’t just her body either, it was her demeanour, her aura, everything about her was attractive to you. She was a good person, but she was also a good fuck, the best sex you’d had in your life was with Alexia and you’d worked in a sex club for years. You can’t be taught experience or confidence, it’s something that you have or you don’t and Alexia was the best. You supposed she liked to be the best at everything, the best at football, the best at life, the best at sex. Her strive for perfection in all walks of life never deterred.
“Alexia.”
Alexia pouted at you, her hands anchored at her hips, giving you a full view of her full breasts and her rock hard nipples.
“That’s not what you call me.”
You bit down on your lip, the stickiness between your thighs only getting stickier.
“Daddy.”
Alexia’s smirk broadened, her teeth biting down into her lip.
“Yes baby?”
You felt your pussy quiver, your cheeks reddening.
“It’s to big.”
Alexia’s smirk faded in a matter of seconds, the blonde starting to take steps towards you.
“I don’t like that attitude baby girl, you’ll take what I give you unless you want to make me mad, and I don’t think you want that, hm?”
The condescending voice, the way her eyes looked down at you, the saunter in her steps. If you hadn’t already soaked your thong then it was now.
“Daddy, it’s huge.”
Alexia nodded, like you were telling her what day it was instead of talking about the appendage that was attached to her hips.
“Wanna say that again? Wanna make me mad? Wanna put me in an even worse mood than that game did, because I recall that your one job is to do the exact opposite.”
She’s right, you were quite literally employed by her as a means for her to manage her stress. It had started at the club you’d worked at, Alexia spending half of her week in the shitty mildewy basement of a run down sex club in Barcelona just to enjoy your company. Eventually she was spending more time paying for your time at the club than at her own home and that was when she made the decision to give you a proposition, one you’d accepted happily.
“No daddy.”
Alexia nods her head, taking the final step to bridge the gap between the two of you.
“That’s what I thought princesa, now how about you lie back on the bed for me, you know how I like you.”
You didn’t hesitate, brushing past Alexia and straight to her bed, climbing on top of the covers as gracefully as you could manage, trying to give Alexia a show as you crawled your way to the top of the bed. Once you made it to the pillows you flipped onto your back, opening your legs for Alexia and keeping still as she liked you.
Alexia peered down at you, admiring the clear wet patch that was embedded in your thong. It was a sight that she was equally as grateful for every time she got to see it, the evidence that you were just as needy and worked up as she was, that you were equally as desperate for her as she was for you.
“So wet princesa, is that all for me? Does your perfect little pretty cunt get worked up at the thought of me?”
She knows the answer, she only asks you to try and get a kick out of you, to rile you up and try and get you to brat back at her, you know her tricks and you know that it’s best to answer her with some kind of submissive variation.
“Yes daddy.”
Alexia moves her way around to the side of the bed, leaning over to reach for your chin, her index finger pointing it up so you’re looking at her eye-to-eye.
“You’ve been good today? Doing as I asked and not touching what belongs to me?”
You shake your head obediently, you’ve learnt from experience that disobeying Alexia is the worst possible thing you could do, for starters the woman always seems to find the truth anyways and she’s more creative than most with her punishment tactics.
“Yes daddy, I’m always good for you.”
Alexia smirks big and wide, her grip on your chin tightening.
“I’ll be the decider of that. What colour are you princesa?”
You take a big deep breath before answering Alexia, composing yourself to give her a proper answer.
“Green, daddy.”
Alexia nods, her fingers staying on your chin with a grip that you couldn’t even try to escape.
“How are you feeling about being tied up baby?”
You thought about the question for a few seconds.
“Fine, I’m green daddy, I’ll let you know if I don’t like anything.”
Alexia smiles, softer, less aggressively domineering.
“That’s what I like to hear, what are your rules?”
You almost roll your eyes, almost.
Alexia’s made you memorise them, you know them like you know the colour of your eyes and the surface of your palm.
“I know my rules daddy.”
Alexia’s soft smile reverts to the harsh line, the same one you’d been met with when she’d found you in the kitchen.
“I didn’t ask if you knew them, I asked you to tell me them. Don’t make me have to punish you when you’ve been so well behaved so far, what are your rules, slut?”
Alexia’s grip turns into a bruising hold, her finger tips digging into the skin of your chin bone.
“No touching myself without permission. No talking without permission unless I’m spoken to. No cumming without permission. Use my safewords if I want to stop at any time. No moving unless you tell me too. If you tell me to do something, do it.”
Alexia nods, climbing onto the bed beside you and hovering her face just inches above yours.
“There’s my good girl, you can be good if you want to, huh?”
Once again, you do your very best to shrug off the condescension in Alexia’s words, smiling at her and simply nodding your head.
“Yes daddy.”
Alexia leans down, pulling your bottom lip with her teeth before your lips even begin to meet hers. Everything about the kiss is as controlled as Alexia, she goes at her own pace, deepening it when and however she likes, eventually pushing her tongue into your mouth.
It’s slower than you’d like, and with both of your holes still stuffed but unstimulated it’s ten times harder to endure, but you assume that’s Alexia’s doing, she’s trying to get you as riled up as possible, although you are unsure of her endgame.
“You look so pretty with my cum all over your face baby, I taste divine if I do say so myself.”
Alexia’s fingers begin to trail down your body, over the top of the lace that your breasts are confined to and straight down to the waistband of your panties, gently brushing over your hips before her hand dipped below the wet lace and swiped through your heat two times, collecting as much arousal as she could without touching any of the places that you were yearning for her the most.
Alexia’s hands are gone almost as quickly as they arrived, her hand creating a gap in between the kiss. Her fingers replace your lips, her index and middle finger being pushed into her mouth.
The way that Alexia sucks, nips and licks at her fingers is simply mesmerising, you're in a trance watching her.
“Such a fucking filthy slut, all wet from getting daddy off, huh? You taste magnificent, baby.”
The mixture of praise and degrading has your head spinning in circles, all of the different words mixing inside your head, sending you into that perfect headspace that Alexia always managed to drift you into.
“Open.”
Alexia’s fingers, now wet with her slobber, tapped at your chin and without any hesitation whatsoever you opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out.
Within seconds, Alexia was spitting into your mouth, directly onto your waiting tongue.
“Swallow.”
You obey her once again, swallowing the spit on your tongue, faintly tasting your own arousal mixed in.
“How do you taste, baby?”
You focus on swallowing properly before answering Alexia.
“Horny, daddy.”
Alexia rolls her eyes before landing a sharp but playful slap to the inside of your thigh, plastering it with more wetness.
“Behave and maybe I’ll do something about it.”
Alexia’s lips don’t return to yours, instead they hover just far enough out of reach that you can’t connect yours with hers.
Alexia lifts herself up and off the mattress, walking over to the pile of different toys she’s left out on the bench at the foot of the bed and picking out a set of silk ties.
She walks back over to you, reaching for your wrists and knotting the silk around them before reaching up to the posts on each side of your bed and securing your wrists to them. Once she’s done she nods at you to check them, you move your wrists accordingly, testing her bonds.
They’re tight and methodically done, immobilising you how Alexia wishes, but they’re also loose enough that if you really tried you’d be able to escape them without much effort.
Once Alexia’s satisfied with her knotwork she walks back over to her pile, picking out a few items that she keeps hidden from you.
Alexia crawls her way back up the mattress, stop halfway up your body and opting to pull the sticky panties off of you, she peels them off of you, slowly tugging them down your hips until they’re sitting at your ankles. Alexia trails her fingers back up a long your legs, tracing little white lines across your skin with her nails as they made their way back up to the space that your panties had previously covered.
Alexia didn’t touch anything, instead she gently began to tug at the vibrator nestled deep inside of you, it’s lying painfully motionless inside of you and whilst you were more than happy to be filled up with something, it’s almost a relief having it removed.
“Such a good girl staying stretched out for daddy, hmm?”
You nod your head at Alexia, trying your hardest to keep your composure as she gently traces the tissue around your hole, never dipping inside though.
“Such a pretty little pussy, so perfect for daddy to stretch out and play with.”
You suck in a deep breath as Alexia’s hand comes down in a firm but quick slap, the pain flashing across your most sensitive areas.
Your back arches, a few months ago you would have been embarrassed that your body was seeking out that kind of contact but with Alexia that all changed, how could you feel embarrassed when she looked and talked about your body like it was created by God himself.
Her hand comes down again, this time more targeted towards your clit, it takes everything you have to turn the scream that was ready in your chest into a groan.
“Be as loud as you want, princesa, it’s not going to make me stop and it’s not going to make your body dislike what I’m doing to you.”
Alexia’s hand comes down again, the squelchy slap ringing out across the room, this time it’s more targeted directly at your stretched out hole. This time you let out something that sounds more like a ringed out scream, your vocal cords unable to truly suppress the extreme amounts of pain and pleasure that are being sent through the nerve receptors across your cunt.
Another two slaps fall in quick succession and by the end of both of them you’re groaning and moaning as much as your lungs will allow, hips chasing any contact you can possibly get or find.
“Such a little pain slut aren’t you, desperate for any kind of contact daddy will give you, you take it so well princesa.”
Alexia places gentle kisses across your hips and thighs, it’s nice, but it’s nowhere near what you want from her.
“Ale, please.”
Alexia’s lips move from your skin almost immediately, her head jerking up to look at you, her brows knitted in annoyance.
“It’s daddy to you, slut. The only noises I want to hear coming from your mouth are the sweet little sounds that you make when I’m touching you, understood?”
You nod your head, well aware that too much disobedience will earn you a very sore ass and no relief for the night.
Alexia reaches down to her pile at the end of the bed, picking up something that you don’t get a look at.
You find out quick enough, when you hear the whirring of a vibrator and seconds later it’s pressed directly against your sore and puffy clit.
Your body thrashes in reply almost immediately, it’s a painful overstimulation that your body was most definitely not ready for.
Your back arches and thighs clench, even though it’s clear that there is no escaping the forced contact, Alexia’s hand stays steady, pressing the vibrator down hard against your bud. Eventually, the vision blurring pain begins to subside, and your sent into the most unpleasurable slow lead up to your orgasm.
You were close nonetheless, and frighteningly aware that the chances of Alexia giving you an orgasm right now were slim and even if she did it was going to be possibly the least pleasurable one she could give you.
You didn’t need to wait long to find out, Alexia sensing your impending orgasm pulled away, giving you a chance to take a deep breath, a mere second.
A second long reprieve was all you got before she laid down another two quick slaps against your clit.
You screamed. As loud as your vocal cords would allow, you screamed. If the overstimulation before had been too much then now it was completely incomprehensible. There was an accumulation of sweat on your forehead similar to the pool of wetness accumulated between your thighs.
Alexia gave you another second to breathe, before the vibrator was pressed straight back against your clit, making you scream once again, your vision full of white as your body shook from the pure pain you were going through.
Alexia wasn’t wrong when she called you a pain slut, it was why she’d frequented you so much at the club, it was why she paid you so much for your company. Not a lot of people could take the amount of pain you were willing to, and still find it pleasurable, yet you loved every single second of it, or you loved the result that always came after taking some pain.
Alexia always made it worth your while, and she knew where your limit was.
“So perfect bebita, taking what I’m giving you, you’re so wet princesa.”
Alexia’s finger trailed down to your hole, briefly dipping inside and collecting some of the wetness. She smeared it across the flat part of your stomach, leaving a long trail of your arousal against your stomach.
“Can you feel that princesa? My little pain slut, hmm? Getting all soaked over me abusing your cunt. How’s it feel?”
It’s hard to talk and articulate what you’re feeling considering how much your body is being affected by the painful overstimulation Alexia is putting you through.
“Good daddy, so fucking good.”
Alexia smirks, silently proud of herself and silently just as proud of you.
“Mm, you reckon you can take another two for me baby? Another two edges and then you’ll get a reward, can you do it for daddy?”
You actually weren’t sure if you could, maybe another one, but two seemed like it could be teetering on the edge of too much. Alexia realised your apprehension before you managed to voice it, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips.
“Let’s try for another one and see how you feel, hmm? You’ve been so good for me princesa, if it’s too much let me know and we’ll stop or take a break.”
The soft Alexia fades as soon as you nod your head, the determination on your face returning, you didn’t want to disappoint Alexia and you didn’t want to tap out unless you were seriously struggling, so you tried to control yourself as much as possible and focus on the lesser sensations.
It didn’t take long for you to get close once again, once the pain subsided you were left with pure pleasure, pleasure that was almost as blinding as the pain that you had previously been experiencing.
As soon as it starts to be perfectly, consumingly good, the vibrator is taken from you and your overwhelmed with the pain of Alexia’s hand coming down on your pussy again. This time around she’s kind enough to spread her hit across your whole sex, instead of targeting your clit, the pain is there all the same though.
“What’s your colour, princesa?”
You take a few seconds to reply, focusing on taking a couple of deep breaths whilst you wait for the immediate pain to pass.
“Green, I’m green daddy.”
Alexia reaches up to press another soft kiss to your lips, her lips linger on top of yours.
“You feel like you can go for another one? I’ll make it worth your while, I promise.”
You take your time replying to her, enjoying the feeling of her lips pressed to yours and the vibrations that would spread across yours whenever she breathed.
“I can go again.”
You could feel Alexia’s lips perk up against yours, a smirk growing on her face.
She keeps her lips pressed to yours as she brings the vibrator back to your clit, making it a little bit more bearable.
Alexia’s lips stay connected to yours the whole time, the scream and moans being pushed straight against her lips as you work through the pain and pleasure coming straight from your core. As soon as you’ve begun to get closer to the edge, it’s gone and just like every other time, you’re hit with an overwhelming pain as Alexia’s hand comes down one final time.
Her lips leave yours as you groan and try to process the overstimulation that you can feel radiating across your lower half.
The pain is soothed by Alexia’s tongue, her lips and tongue flattening out across your puffy clit, it mellows out the pain slightly, but simultaneously begins to push you back towards the edge that you were so desperate to get over but also be away from.
Your hips cant up as a reflex, a reflex that is quickly put to rest as one of Alexia’s hands pushes down against your hips, keeping you pressed against the mattress.
“Stay still and let me clean you up princesa.”
Alexia’s tongue gently traced it’s way around your cunt, lapping at the wetness and getting as much of it on her tongue as possible. Her spare hand pushed it’s way underneath you, locating the forgotten butt plug nestled between your cheeks and gently tugging at it.
While her mouth doesn’t provide any real kind of pleasure, the tugging and twisting of the toy in your ass certainly does. Alexia’s been stretching you out for weeks, it’s been a slow process, but worth it, it’s elevated your experiences with her that extra bit, to the point where you could probably come solely from her playing with your ass. You’ve got no doubt that one day she’ll want to try it and when that day comes around you’ll be more than happy to oblige her, there was something so much more special and sacred about having her play with your ass in ways that nobody else had. You were no anal virgin, working at a sex club meant that you’d experimented more than the average person but never in the ways that Alexia managed to, even now that the two of you were months into your situation she still managed to surprise you by introducing new things.
Alexia didn’t wait for you to get to the edge, she needed you to stay conscious and she was fairly certain another edge might put you too far into subspace, to the point where you weren’t coherent enough for her to be using how she wanted to. Right now, you seemed to be floating in that perfectly obedient place where you typically fell after some proper exertion, compliant enough to do anything Alexia wanted. It was her favourite place to have you.
You mewled at Alexia as she pulled away, stripping off the rest of her clothes and leaving them in a neatly stacked pile at the foot of the bed before reaching for the strap she’d left on the edge of the bed and fastening it around her hips with practised ease. It was a new dildo that she had attached to the strap, larger than she’d had you take before, she was well aware that it might be a bit to big for you, but she was also excited to see if you were up for it.
Alexia crawled her way in between your legs, pressing the silicone cock flat against your stomach before pressing her lips to your neck, reaching behind you to take off the bra that was still attached to you. She keeps her lips attached to the skin across your chest, marking you up just how she liked to. Alexia loved the fact that you were all hers, hers to mark up, hers to order around, hers to come home to.
“Daddy, please.”
With the feeling of silicone pressed against your stomach and Alexia’s lips sucking deep purple marks along your collarbones, it was hard to not be insanely desperate, especially considering just how much she’d focused on working you up.
“I’ve got you princesa, daddy’s going to make you feel so good.”
Alexia finishes with one last hickey before pushing herself up onto her elbows, giving herself a better view of you.
“Gonna give you your reward princesa, gonna make you feel so good.”
Alexia leans back, positioning herself in between your legs and lining herself up with you, slowly beginning to work her way in.
The groan that you let out as Alexia slowly starts to thrust the length into you. Simultaneously, as she’s slowly working her way in, she reaches down, tugging at the plug still slotted inbetween your cheeks.
It seems to be the right move, because your body practically melts from the mixed stimulation, making it that much easier for Alexia to ease her way in, your body pretty much opening up for her.
Just as she bottoms out, she tugs at the plug, pulling it out and replacing it with her fingers.
You moan in a way that Alexia’s never heard before, your whole body vibrates along with the moan, like your whole body is generating the sound.
It only spurs Alexia on.
Once she’s certain that you’re comfortable with the length and width of the strap, she starts to quicken her pace, rocking her hips against yours, her fingers following the same pace. Alexia nudges your legs just a bit further apart and a bit higher up, giving her a better angle to start properly fucking you.
Alexia is mesmerised by the feeling of being inside of you in two different places, she hadn’t planned this for tonight, but she’s so grateful that it happened because it feels different in all of the best ways.
She roughens her pace as you seemingly begin to get closer, your body jerking to meet Alexia for every single thrust.
“D-Daddy, fuck, please.”
Alexia quickens her pace, beginning to roughen her thrusts.
“Hold on for me baby, wait till I’m ready and we’ll come together.”
You bite down on your lip hard, the double penetration is making you feel things that you’ve never felt before and you feel like you're about to explode in more ways than one.
“Please daddy, need to come.”
Alexia nods her head, desperate to get herself to the edge so that she can ride it out with you.
“I know baby, just a little bit longer, daddy’s got you.”
Alexia leans down, pressing a kiss to your jaw and pistoning her hips as hard as possible, getting enough friction against her clit for her own orgasm to begin to grow, the coil in her stomach beginning to tighten.
“Go ahead baby, come with daddy, I’ve got you.”
It doesn’t take long before you’re plummeting over the edge, your orgasm hitting you like a semi-truck, quite literally.
You go boneless immediately, all the pent up pleasure and pain finally coursing it’s way throughout your veins and all the nerves inside of you lighting up like a christmas tree.
Alexia’s orgasm isn’t as strong but it hits her all the same, she pulls out slowly before collapsing on top of you, slotting her head into the crook of your neck and letting the both of you come down.
When your body stops shaking and your breathing evens out, Alexia lifts herself off of you, pulling the strap off of herself before lying down next to you and bringing you into her arms, allowing you to come down in her arms.
The skin to skin contact does wonders for you, sending you into a warm cloud of post sex happiness as you burrow your way into Alexia’s neck, trying your hardest to jump inside of her skin.
“Princesa.”
You try your hardest to ignore Alexia, opting to attach yourself to her.
“Princesa, c’mon you need to get up.”
Alexia doesn’t have the heart to actually try and lift you off of her, but she does have a brain that is telling her that there are things that need to be done before she can enjoy your company in her sheets.
“Princesa, go to the bathroom, I’ll fetch us both some water from the kitchen and then we can have cuddles, okay?”
You groan into Alexia’s neck, clearly displeased with her suggestion but also forcing yourself off of Alexia to do as she’s asked, knowing that it is the logical thing to do.
“I want cuddles when I get back, proper cuddles.”
Alexia rolls her eyes.
“I don’t pay you for cuddles.”
It’s lighthearted, a joke that has you even rolling your eyes.
“No but you probably should, I’m a pretty awesome cuddler.”
Alexia snorts, nodding her head, it’s true.
“Cuddles once you pee and drink some water, okay? I’ll even sleep in an extra hour for you, how does that sound?”
It’s an offer you’ve got no business denying.
“Meet you back in bed?”
Alexia nods her head, already making her way into the kitchen.
“I’ll meet you there.”
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anyways this fic was written in three different countries and i sooo can’t be fucked with editing it so sorry if you experienced the after math of that!!! love yall and hope you enjoyed this 🫶
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