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eddiesxangel · 3 months

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Show You | Virgin Eddie x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eddie meets you 4 years after he escapes the upside-down when he moves to your small Californian town.

Wc: 7k AN: sorry to the anons that requested Virgin!Eddie like a month ago, but here shit is!

Cw: shy/angsty/insecure!Eddie, fluff, SMUT, Virgin Eddie x experienced fem reader, size kink, blowjob, p in v, protected sex, sub!Eddie. Switch?eddie, dirty talk.

1990

Eddie’s life for his first twenty years wasn’t necessarily the best… drugs, alcohol, child neglect, and that wasn’t even the worst of it. Eddie’s dreams were haunted by the horror story of his life, which was 1986.

Four years ago, the gates of hell opened, and Eddie was dragged into them, kicking and screaming. Eventually, he got out with his weird band of misfits, but the scars left on his body by those disgusting creatures only remind him daily of the horrors he survived.

He survived. He got out and was paid a fat sum by the American government for keeping quiet. So he took the money and his Uncle and they ran. They ran far, far away from Hawkins, so far they ended up in the quaint town of Ferndale, California.

The Munson men had grown accustomed to the small-town life and did not want to give that up. They were pleasantly surprised when they moved to Ferndale. The vibrant Victorian-style homes painted in different shades of pastel colours added a pop of colour to the town's landscape. Wayne was particularly taken by the town's charm and ultimately decided he didn't want to leave.

The smell of saltwater from the nearby ocean was a refreshing change, and the Munson men enjoyed taking long walks on the beach during their free time to clear their heads of their tortured past. The picturesque scenery of Ferndale was a welcome change from the mundane routine of their old town of Hawkins.

With that money from the government, Eddie was able to buy himself and his uncle a nice four-bedroom house; they had so much room for just the two of them they didn’t know what to do with it. Eddie owed everything to his uncle, so of course, he needed to splurge.

Eddie had to undergo hours of physical therapy daily to fix every joint and muscle on the right side of his body, which made it difficult for him to perform even the simplest of tasks. It took him a couple of years to recover and walk properly again, but he remained determined to make a fresh start and leave his old life behind.

Once he was finally able to function normally, Eddie set out to find a new job that would provide him with a real opportunity to rebuild his life. He was determined to leave his past behind and start anew without any remnants of his old life hanging over him, including drug dealing. Eddie knew that it wouldn't be easy, but he remained committed to his goal. He was willing to put in the hard work necessary to succeed in his new job and build a better life for himself. For him, this was a second chance, a fresh start that he was determined to make the most of.

The door chimed and jingled as the fall air flowed into the small music store. While the locals were bundled up in layers of corduroy and jean jackets, scarves, and gloves, Eddie enjoyed the breeze that entered the shop. His faded black Metallica t-shirt was the only one in sight.

The doorbell's persistent chime was starting to wear on Eddie's nerves as the evening came to a close. It had been a long and busy day, with customer after customer coming in. With only twenty minutes left to go, he was getting ready to close up shop alone tonight. He considered flipping the sign a little early because, finally, after hours of non-stop work, the floor was empty of people.

Eddie was behind the counter, wiping down the work area and facing away from the door, when he heard those dreaded chimes. His shoulders dropped with defeat; he was a fool to think this day could be ended early.

He put on a façade of good customer service, but his expression quickly changed to genuine happiness mixed with nerves upon seeing who had walked into the small record store.

He had seen you around town, at the grocery store and sometimes at the beach. He admired you from afar, never once approaching you. No. You intimidated him but in the best way. You were like no other woman he had seen before.

Growing up in Hawkins, being secluded as the town freak, he didn’t have much exposure to female attention. Or any romantic attraction for that fact. So when you entered the store, Eddie’s palms felt sweaty, and his heart started to race; he could hear the blood pounding in his ears as his eyes locked with yours.

He swore he saw a sparkle in your eyes when you looked at him, but maybe that was just wishful thinking. He didn’t even know your name yet.

“E-evening,” he awkwardly waved as you browsed the slim aisle.

“Hi,” your face broke out into a smile and went back to your search. Your best friend Charlie’s birthday was tomorrow, and you needed to get her a gift before her party.

As you searched and searched, you were still looking for an album you thought she would like. You two were total opposites when it came to your music preferences, so you had no idea what to get her. After minutes with no success, you found yourself calling out to the only other person in the store.

“Hey, I don't mean to bother you, but I need your opinion.” You snap Eddie out of his little daydream, obviously that you were the start of that daydream.

“Sure!” He said he was a bit too excited. “How can I help you” he smiled but swung his long arms back and forth uncomfortably as he approached you.

“I’m looking for a birthday gift, and I’m a total newbie when it comes to metal. Do you think you can help me?” You bite your lip, observing the man in front of you.

He possessed an alluring, bad-boy persona that made him quite charming. His hair was long, reaching his shoulders, and looked unstyled, yet it was evident that he had taken time to make it look just right. The chocolate waves cascaded down his face, framing his striking features, which were difficult to ignore. His big, round eyes were captivating, and they softened his tough exterior, making him appear less intimidating, especially with that nasty scar running through his left cheek and up to his temple. He had a fair complexion, and his arms were visible, revealing numerous tattoos that covered some scars running up from his forearm to his bicep, which aided his rugged appearance.

He saw you staring and immediately wrapped his arms around himself, trying to conceal the scars from your gaze. You felt bad. You know it’s rude to stare, but he was so enticing to look at; you’d never seen anyone like him before, especially not in this North California town of yours.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” You gestured to the arms he was concealing.

"S'all good." He brushed it off, but you could tell he was, in fact, uncomfortable.

"If it makes you feel any better... it makes you look like a total badass." You smirked.

"Oh really?" hearing your compliment did make Eddie feel a little better.

"Yeah, total babe magnet." You flirt.

"Well... I don't know about that?" Eddie's closed-off demeanour quickly changed to bashful.

"You're not from here, are you?" you looked at his name tag "Eddie," you cock your head, taking him in once again.

He's taller than you by at least a full head. His shoulders are broad, and his torso is lean. You'd guess he is around your age, mid-twenties, give or take a year or two.

Eddie liked the way you said his name.

"Nah, moved here a few years ago," he smirked.

"Well, I'm glad you did because you look just like the style of a guy who can help me." You bite your lip.

"I do?"

"Like I said, my friend is a total metalhead, and I don't have a clue on what to get?"

"Sure, yeah, I'm definitely your guy for that."

He walked you over to the correct section of the store, and you noticed a slight limp to his gate.

"If they're just an okay friend, I suggest this," He held up a small cassette. "but if they're a really good friend, Then this is definitely the thing to get them."

"Oh, this looks like something they would like! Charlie never shuts up about this band." You smile, taking the record from Eddie's hands. You decide this is the one and let Eddie know you want him to ring you up.

"So is Charlie like your boyfriend or something" God Munson, real smooth.'

This made you giggle.

"Why do you wanna ask me out or something? You cocked your head.

"Yeah, or something," Eddie's demeanour suddenly became coy.

"Well, Charlotte is my best friend, no boyfriend. " you take the record off Eddie's hands.

"Oh ok cool-cool”

Seconds of awkward silence filled the air, you could sense he wanted to talk to you more.

“Yea, well um”-

“You think I could have your number?" He asked while fiddling with his fingers. His long, thick fingers were decorated with silver rings, scars and chipped black polish. You liked his fingers; he looked like the kind of guy who knew how to use them.

Eddie's personality was more like that of a teddy bear than his outward appearance suggested.

"Sure," You smiled and pulled out an old receipt and a pen from your purse. You flipped it to the blank side and wrote your name and number on the back. "Call me." You winked as you passed it to Eddie before exiting the store.

Eddie couldn't believe what just happened. He locked up as soon as you left, watching to make sure you made it into your car safely. The crime rate in this town was non-existent, but now Eddie knew what was lurking in the shadows. He could never be too careful.

Eddie made it home about half an hour later and was examining the small paper you'd given him. He looked over the pink loopy writing of your name, and he traced over the love heart you'd written in the top right corner.

"What that you got there, boy" Wayne walked into the room and noticed what Eddie had been memorizing. He bent down and picked up the white paper marked in pink ink off of the coffee table. "Well, well, well, I'll be damned," He huffed with excitement. It was about time Eddie put himself out there.

"I bet she's real cute." He winked at his blushing nephew.

"Yeah," Eddie sighed, thinking about your face.

"If you need any tips, let me know." Wayne smiled.

"Huh?"

"I'll have you know I know how to treat a lady right, so when you come begging for help, I'll be right here." He patted his shoulder.

"Yeah, okay, Mr. Cassanova." Eddie scoffed. Wayne had never been with anyone since Eddie entered his life.

"Whatever," Wayne mumbled under his breath as he exited the living room to give Eddie some semblance of privacy. He would be able to hear the whole conversation, but he still wanted to give the illusion of privacy to his boy.

When the phone rang, you had been wrapping Charlie's present in your bedroom.

"I got it!" You yelled out to your roommates, rushing over to the other end, praying that it was Eddie on the other end.

You let it ring two more times as you took a deep breath before picking it up.

"Hello," You smiled.

"Hey, uh, this is Eddie."

"Hi, Eddie," you smiled. He could tell it was you by your voice. "I'm glad you called." You played with the phone cord, wrapping it and then unwrapping it from your fingers as you spoke.

"I was wondering if you were free on Saturday?"

You jumped up and down, giddy he was asking you out, when Charlie and Evan, your two roommates, rounded the corner to see what had gotten you all googly-eyed.

"I work Saturday until three, but I'm free after" You look at your roommates and Charlie's mouth "Who's that"

"Great, I -uh- was thinking we could maybe see a movie or dinner or both; yeah, both are good." Eddie cleared his throat.

"Yeah, both are good," You giggle back.

"Great, I can pick you up around six, that okay?"

You agree and give him your address. You wish him a good night and hang up with phone with the biggest smile on your face.

"Okay, spill, who was that." Evan and Charlie corner you before you can escape.

"You know the music store on Main St.?" You grin.

"Yea," they say in unison.

"I was in there tonight, and the guy who works there, Eddie, asked me for my number, and we are going out on Saturday."

"You mean the scary guy with the hair and the nasty scar on his face?" Evan's eyes widen.

"Trust me, he is not scary," you giggle.

"Okay," Evan draws out. He was always protective of you.

"Trust me, you should have seen how timid he was; he's really sweet." You reassure them.

"We need to get you an outfit!" Charlie jumps into action, heading for your room.

"Wait!" You rush by her, shoving the gift under your pillow so she can't see anything.

"Something I should know? any particular reason you were at the music store tonight?"

"Nope! No reason at all; I saw a cute guy and thought I would shoot my shot." You brush off

"Yeah, okay," She totally knew.

Eddie was frantic. This was honestly and truly his first date. He doesn’t count the disaster of a night that was Jackie Manning in the fourth grade that had been wiped from his memory.

Eddie was bouncing around the house from room to room, trying to gather things he needed for the evening. He wanted this to work. He wanted to get to know you. He wanted to build something, he was already a twenty four year old who’s never been in a relationship or had sex. And he wanted those two things so badly. He was lonely, and he missed his friends from Hawkins, but he could never go back, not after everything that had happened. And because of everything that happened was the exact reason he was still a virgin.

The pressure to please was building in his head as the time started getting closer to 6:00pm.

“Don’t psych yourself out, kid.” Wayne watched as his nephew flew around the house. “You’re making me dizzy.”

“What if she thinks I’m a freak like everyone else?” His sentence tapers off as his voice turns into a mumbled whisper.

“Son, listen to me. This town is no Hawkins. You do not need to hide anymore, and you never know. Maybe she’s more of a freak than you ever can be,” his uncle laughed.

“Not helping.” He rolls his eyes, walking back to his room. He was looking for the new cologne he bought for tonight. He sprits it on himself maybe one too many times, but it didn’t matter, he was sweating so much he needed to change his shirt, again.

Looking into the mirror, he couldn't help but notice the scars that crisscrossed along his torso. It was obvious that his scars had a story, one that was filled with pain and struggle. Despite feeling self-conscious, Eddie took a deep breath, reminding himself that he was more than his physical appearance. With care, he fixed his hair and pulled on a black long-sleeved collared shirt, hoping it would provide some comfort and confidence.

With one last deep breath, he worked up the courage to grab his keys and walk out the front door.

“Good luck, be yourself, don’t forget the flowers and open the door for her damnit! I didn’t raise you to be no brute!”

“Got it!” Eddie yelled out before shutting the door with a click.

As you were lost in thought, a distant rumble of an old engine caught your attention, and you instinctively turned towards the window. You noticed a striking red two-door sedan pulling up to the front of your house, and your eyes were immediately drawn to Eddie as he stepped out of the car. He exuded an air of confidence, wearing a sleek black leather jacket that complimented his impressive physique. You couldn't help but watch as he flicked the butt of his cigarette onto the ground and crushed it under his black boots.

Your gaze moved up his long, toned legs, admiring the way they looked in his fitted black jeans, to his slim waist and broad shoulders that seemed to dominate the space around him. As he walked towards the trunk of the car, his movements were so graceful that they seemed almost rehearsed. He retrieved what looked like a bouquet of flowers. You couldn’t help but fucked him as you watched how he walked up to the front porch. He looked like pure sex, and you couldn’t wait to climb him like a tree.

Yeah, it has been a while since you last got laid, and this date with Eddie was getting your hopes up that that streak will soon come to an end.

The closer he got to the porch, the more the butterflies built in your stomach. The knock on the door shot you up from where you were perched, and you quickly made your way down the stairs.

“Hi” you smile brightly as you open the door.

“Hey,” Eddie smirked shyly as he took you in. It was like he forgot to breathe for a second. How could someone be cute and sexy at the same time?

“Hi” you repeated.

“I got you these.” he passed you a cute bouquet of pink and purple flowers.

“Thank you, Eddie.” You smile and smell them, finding your bashfulness.

“For us, you shouldn’t have!” Evan comes up and takes the flowers out of your hands

“Okay, bad boy, have our girl back by midnight” Charlie comes up from behind you, giving Eddie a once over.

“Charlie?” Eddie points.

“Oh, you talked about me? I’m flattered,” your best friend pecks you on the cheek.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know who you are?” Eddie motions to Evan.

“Evan” he smiles and puts his hand out to shake. “The unspoken about roommate.”

“Don’t worry about him. He’s just salty. I’m going out, and he’s stuck at home with Charlie and her new Dio album,” you smirk.

“Well, I hope you enjoy, I’m personally a fan of track 8,” Eddie rocks back on his heels.

“I like him; he’s the boy version of me.” Charlie nods in approval.

“Okay, let’s go.” You grab Eddie's arm and close the door behind you before your roommates can say anymore.

Eddie walked you to the passenger side of the red sedan and opened the door for you.

“Thank you,” you smiled, and Eddie jogged to the other side.

The car ride was a little quiet but not long. Eddie jogged out to the other side and opened the door for you with a smile.

You talked a bit more before the movie. He bought the popcorn and drinks. He didn’t open up much about why he moved, but you spoke about your interests and your future goals up until the movie started.

During the movie, you tried to pass signals to him to make a move. You rested your hand out so he could take it, but it seemed that he was engrossed in the film. You tried leaning in closer so he could put his arm around you, but nothing. So you pulled a Hail Mary and rested your hand on his thigh. You felt his body stiffen under your touch, but the. He relaxed a little and took your hand in his.

You glanced over at Eddie, and he was grinning at you. The light off the movie screen reflected off the deep scar marking Eddie’s cheek. God, he was beautiful.

“What?” Eddie whispered.

Shit, did you say that out loud?

“You’re beautiful.” You whispered back confidently. Something about Eddie told you he wasn’t complimented often, but you wanted to change that.

“Oh,” Eddie blushes, the red crawled up his chest, and he felt his ears burning bright red. Thankful for his long hair and the dark theatre.

After the movie, Eddie didn’t let go of your hand until you got to the car; then, when you both were back in the car, he bravely reached over and took your hand in his once more.

Dinner was lovely; he pulled out your chair for you, and he opened up more to you about himself. He was extremely charming and funny, vibrant and animated, and he made you feel alive. Eddie was such a breath of fresh air compared to the men from your past.

By the end of the night, you didn’t want it to end. You drove around for a while before you both decided it was for the best to take you home.

Like the perfect gentleman he had been all night, Eddie walked you up to your door.

“I had a really nice night with you.” You smiled up at him. He made you feel like a teenager again.

“Me too, Sweetheart.”

Your heart soared at the nickname.

Eddie leaned in, hoping and praying he was reading the room correctly. He felt like his insides were going to explode, and he took the risk and kissed you.

Eddie’s hands grabbed your waist and pulled you in closer as you leaned into him. He felt your hands wrap around his neck and bring your bodies closer. His hard frame was pressed against your soft one; he let a soft moan slip as he felt your soft breasts graze his chest and your plush thighs press against his centre.

Eddie quickly pulled away once he felt his cock hardening against your body; the last thing he needs is your thinking he is some perv.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” Eddie cupped your face, giving you one quick peck before stepping back and trying to cover his crotch with his jacket.

“Goodnight, Eddie,” you smile, and you look at him like no one has looked at Eddie. It made his knees feel like jello.

“I’ll call you,” he smirked; his confidence had grown since he walked out his front door.

“You better”

Eddie and you have been dating for two months now. Everything had been going well, everything but your sex life, or lack thereof.

Eddie hadn’t made a move. Nothing went past makeouts and heavy petting, and you were starting to get insecure. Everything else was amazing, but nothing ever led to anything more.

You had tried to initiate sex, but every time you were turned away, even a blow job, Eddie made an excuse for you not to go past kissing.

You were pulling away, and Eddie could sense it. He was absolutely fucking this up, but his inner thoughts were his worst enemy. How could you be with someone as inexperienced and deformed as him? Could he please you? What if he finished in ten seconds? He would be mortified. But all of that felt like nothing if it meant losing you.

Tonight, he would change that. Tonight, he had the whole evening planned. He had the house to himself as Wayne was also out with a lady friend he had met at the town bar. Things were looking up for the Munson men in California.

After your date with Eddie, he invited you over to his place for the first time. His house was beautiful; you wondered how Eddie could afford a place like this? He had already disclosed to you he had purchased it all on his own.

“Are you a part of the mob” you joke as you take in the house.

Eddie chuckled and led you further into his home.

“You want a drink?”

“Yeah, whatever you’re having,” As you make your way over to the large sofa you take a seat and let out a deep sigh as you sink into the comfortable cushions.

The room is quiet, save for the sound of Eddie shuffling around in the kitchen, and you begin to feel a little uneasy in the silence, not knowing what to do to fill the time. Thankfully, Eddie walks in with two beers in his hands, and you can't help but smile at the sight of him.

He hands you a beer and takes a sip of his own before heading over to the stereo to put on some music. As the music starts to fill the room, you begin to feel more at ease.

“So, where is your Uncle?” You ask casually.

“Out for the night, we have the place to ourselves.” He smiles as he sits down beside you.

“Oh, so he is gone the whole night?” You ask, trying not to get your hopes up.

“Yep,” he ended his word with a crisp pop.

“That’s good.” You nod your head. “Sure is a big place to be alone in.”

“Wanna keep me company?” Eddie nuzzled his face into your neck.

“Yes,” you sigh as the beer in your hands has been completely forgotten. Finally, you were going to spend some much-needed alone time with Eddie.

You push back so you can turn your head to kiss Eddie. You turn your body so you can get a better angle. Eddie cups your face pulling you closer, he wanted to feel you, all of you.

You needed to feel him more, too; your pussy was in control; you swung your leg over his lap so you could straddle your man. Your hips started moving on their own. Grinding down onto Eddie’s lap. Eddie hands travels from your face down your back to cup your ass pulling you closer. His cock was already hard; you felt how big he was through his taught jeans. You pull away to slip your hands under his shirt, but Eddie grabs your wrists hastily.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” You ask worried. The grip on your wrists was firm. “I thought you were into this?” You feel like you are folding into yourself.

“I am!” He was quick to correct you.

“Do you not want me in that way?” Your voice was so small.

“No! I mean, yes, I do, I really, really do.” He shakes his head.

“Then why don’t you want to do anything with me?”

“I do, fuck, sweetheart. I really do. It’s all I think about.” He stroked your hair reassuringly.

“Then let me.” You tried unbuttoning Eddie’s jeans, but he stopped you once again. You were fighting back tears of embarrassment. You were throwing yourself at him, and he was rejecting you time and time again.

“Sweetheart, wait, I have to tell you something… well, two things.”

“What it’s it, baby?” Now you were nervous.

“I-shit- I want this to be… be so good for you, but I’m…not really…experienced.” he avoided eye contact, and it finally clicked.

“Eddie, are you a virgin?” Your question with no judgment or malice in your tone.

He slowly nods his head, looking down in his lap.

“Baby, that doesn’t matter to me.” You hook a finger under his jaw to make him look at you.

His wide eyes were sorrowful like he didn’t want to disappoint you.

“Yeah?” He whispers.

“Yeah,” you confirm with a kiss as you lean down into him. Slowly, you started rocking your hips into his lap once again.

“Sweetheart, there is uh-one more thing.” He pulls away; you can already feel his thick cock beneath you.

“If you’re not ready, we don’t have to do anything.”

“No, no, I-I want to. It’s umm. Shit”

“You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready,” you cooed.

“I kinda have to if I want to sleep with you…”

“Okay, Eddie. Take your time.”

“My uh- scars. They’re everywhere." he gestured to his middle, " And I don’t want you to be grossed out or whatever.” He was bitterly honest with you. All of his walls came tumbling down, and you felt like an ass for not even considering his feelings about the situation.

“Eddie,” you sighed.

“No, I know what I look like, and it’s not normal. I don’t want you to get scared off or worse because I really like you. And god, I wanna have sex with you so bad it’s all I can think about that makes me sound so perverted- but it’s true. I want to be with you so bad.”

You cut him off with a kiss. A deep, sensual kiss that makes Eddie forget his own name.

“Let me take care of you,” you whisper into his lips.

“You don’t have to. I want this to be about you.”

“No baby, you do so much for me. Let me do this for you” You kiss down his jaw to his neck, sucking a dark purple mark until you’re satisfied and Eddie is withering underneath you, trying to get any sense of friction.

Your hands explored his waist above his shirt, feeling his body. It was bumpy, and there were ridges where you were not used to, but it didn’t deter you from wanting to be with him.

You could feel his body stiffen when your fingers traced over his scars.

“Is there any place you don’t want me touching?” You whispered.

“No, no, touch me- please.” his chest moved up and down with his heavy breaths.

Eddie’s body felt like it was on fire. No one has ever felt him in this way. He needed more but didn’t want to press you. So he let you take your time.

Your hands once again tried to break past the barrier of his shirt. This time, he let you as your warm fingertips worked their way up his tummy, feeling his skin beneath you.

“Can I take this off?” You ask.

Eddie nodded his head frantically; he trusted you and wanted nothing more than to keep going.

He sat up a bit, letting you shuffle the soft cotton over his head.

Your gaze didn’t break from his body. It was so beautifully mangled you could see he had skin grafting scars all across his chest and sides.

“I get it if you’re not attracted to me.”

“Hey,” you grab his head in both hands, forcing him to look at you. “I’ve never wanted to be with anyone more than I want to be with you right now.” You take a hand off his face to grab his hand and guide it to your soaked panties.

Eddie’s eyes widen with surprise as he feels your pooled slick in your panties.

“Holy shit,” Eddie gasped.

“I want you, Eddie. I want you so bad. I want to make you feel good.” You grind yourself on his hand before you slink off his lap and onto your knees in front of him.

You were about to give him the best blowjob imaginable. You didn’t know what Eddie went through, but you knew he was one of the most genuine guys you’ve ever met, and he deserved this moment.

You were quick to unbuckle his belt and pants before guiding your hand up his still-covered cock. Your fingers are hooked under the elastic waistband of his boxers, and his pulsing cock sprang free.

Your eyes widen at the sight in front of you… you knew he would be big, but you weren’t expecting him to be that big. How has he been hiding this from you all this time?

“What? What's wrong?”

“Eddie, you’re huge,” your mouth hung agape. In front of you is a cock at least eight inches long and thick, with a slight curve to the left.

“What? No.”

“You’re joking?” You laugh.

Eddie looks at you with a blank stare. Maybe laughing while his cock was out wasn’t the best idea.

“Eddie, I’m serious,” you take his length in your hand. “This is the biggest dick I’ve ever seen.” It felt heavy in your hand.

"Really?"

"Really, I don't think it's going to fit?" You chuckle, a little worried.

"Can- can we at least try?" Eddie stutters.

"Don't worry, baby, I always like a challenge."

You didn't let Eddie respond before your mouth was enveloping the tip of his cock. You swirled your tongue around the head before taking as much as possible without triggering your gag reflex.

"Holy shit" Eddie instinctively grabbed your hair as you lowered your head down the shaft. His face scrunched up in pleasure.

"You like that baby?" You ask, popping up for air, your hand replacing your mouth.

"Yes," he sucked in a sharp breath as your hand applied the perfect amount of pressure to his cock.

"I can't believe you've been holding this secret from me for so long, naughty boy." You smirked before taking him back in your mouth.

" I-I-didn't-fuck! Didn't know?" Fuck why had Eddie been holding off on this feeling? This wonderful feeling of your beautiful mouth surrounding his length.

You worked your head up and down his head before Eddie pulled you off unexpectedly.

" I'm gonna come if you keep doing that."

"That's the point, baby." You smiled.

"But I wanna have sex," He rushes out.

"Okay." You smile, and you both stand up, taking his hand in yours. "Wanna show me your bedroom?"

Eddie frantically nods his head yes before he pulls you up the stairs to the bedroom. You giggle behind him as he runs up the stairs, trying not to trip as his pants and boxers are wrapped around his ankles.

He rushes the both of you over to his bed, and he lays you down before him before you can take off your clothes.

"Tell me what you want," you coo, tucking a piece of hair behind Eddie's ear as he hovers over you.

"You, I want you so bad," he whines between kisses.

"Good boy," you smile, and Eddie swears his heart stops beating.

"How do you want me?" you ask as Eddie's hands explore every inch of your still-clothed body.

"Naked." He kissed the exposed skin of your neck.

"Mmmm, good boy, tell me what you want," you say as Eddie's mouth finds your sweet spot.

You hear Eddie whimper at your praise, so you decide to keep pushing. In a moment of intense emotion, something inside him breaks. A deep longing takes hold of him, compelling him to be nothing but a perfect and devoted man for you. The thought of being your good boy fills him with an unfamiliar sense of need, one that he has never encountered before.

"You like it when I call you that, baby?"

Eddie mumbles an answer into your neck.

"What was that? I couldn’t hear you."

"Yes, please, I want to be your good boy." He rutted his bare cock against your wet panty-covered core, and it sent a wave of pleasure through you.

"Oh, Eddie," You moan. "help me take off my clothes," You ask sweetly.

Eddie waisted not another second before your shirt was over your head and your skirt ripped off of your hips. You managed your bra while Eddie did the honours of revealing your swollen wet pussy.

"How do you want me?" you ask as your fingers trace your pussy lips before opening your legs wide for Eddie to see you play with your pussy.

"I've died and gone to heaven." Eddie's eyes were wide as he took in your body.

"I want you to feel me, baby." you reach out for Eddie's hand and guide it back to your pussy like you had downstairs. You slowly guided his thick fingers through your folds, collecting your slick before you showed him where your tight hole was.

“Holy shit” Eddie couldn’t believe he was allowed to touch you like this.

"It's okay, you can go in" You rocked your hips into Eddies and hoping his fingers would breach your cunt.

"Oh my god," You say in unison as his long, thick finger stretches you out ever so slightly.

"You're so tight." Eddie slowly tests the waters as he pumps his fingers in and out of your pussy.

"mmmm, think about how good it's going to feel when my tight little pussy is wrapped around your big, thick cock"

Eddie's brain short-circuited, his hand stopped moving, and you let out a giggle when you realized you had broken his brain.

"Can I?"

"Just a little bit more warming up, baby. You're just so big I need to get ready for you." You bat your lashes at him.

"fuck you can't say things like that to me."

"Why you don't like it?" You tease.

"Quite the opposite, sweetheart."

"You wanna know a secret to a woman's pleasure?"

"Yes"

"You gotta pay a lot of attention to right here" You guide his hand to your swollen clit. You let out a moan when his fingers make contact with your bundle of nerves.

You show him how to circle it, and Eddie couldn't believe the sight below him. He was giving you pleasure. He could tell by your blissed-out face he was doing a good job; he was being your good boy.

"Fuck I need you now," you moan, feeling your orgasm build.

"I have condoms," Eddie blurts out.

"Good, go get one," you breathe heavy with lust. Eddie hops off the bed, almost tripping over his pants that were still wrapped around his ankles, making you giggle.

You watched as he reached his nightstand opening the drawer. Your pussy was throbbing, and you couldn’t take your eyes off how his shoulder blade jutted out, and his back muscles rippled and dipped through the large scar that covered most of his left side. Your eyes travelled down, and the perfect view of his perky ass was right there for the taking. So you can’t help yourself as you reach out and swat at it playfully, making Eddie jump.

“You’re a little minx.” he turns quickly, wrapped condom in hand.

Eddie quickly crawls back into the bed before unwrapping and rolling the condom down his throbbing length. Then he froze, not knowing what to do next?

“How do you want me, Eddie baby?” You playfully twirl a piece of his unruly hair around your finger.

“Can-can you be on top to start?”

“Layback for me.” You un-twirl your finger from his hair and gently push his shoulders back so he can get comfortable.

His cock lay flat against his stomach, passing where his belly button should have been.

Slowly, you wrap your legs around his body, aligning your centre with his. You take his girth in your delicate hand and guide his cock to your wanton hole. You glide his tip through your pussy lips a few times, teasing and collecting your slick before slowly sinking your way down. You let out a shaking breath as he splits you in half.

It took everything within Eddie to not rut his hips up into you; his knuckles turned white as he gripped the sheets beneath him, trying to do everything not to plant his feel so he could to hold back.

He’d never felt anything so heavenly. You were so fucking tight around him. He couldn’t believe how amazing this felt. Your pussy was his own personal paradise, and he was never leaving.

“Fuck-fuck-fuck-“ you stuttered as your pussy adjusted to his size. The burn was long but so good, you wanted more of him.

Eddie watched as your pinched-up face relaxed, changing quickly from uncomfortable to pure pleasure when you reached the hilt.

“Holy shit,” Eddie swore he could have come right then and there if he wanted it. But he didn’t want it, not yet. God, he be damned if he didn’t make this moment last forever.

“You like the way my pussy is wrapped around your fat cock, big boy?” You start to rock your hips slowly, teasing the man who is falling apart beneath you.

Usually, you were always the one in his position, but you felt a power you’d never experienced. You wanted to be in control tonight; you wanted to make this so good for Eddie, your sweet Eddie with a monster cock.

Eddie jerked his hips up, and your pussy clenched. “Oh fuck!” Eddie cried as your muscles contracted around him. This was it; nothing could ever be better than this right now.

“You feel that honey? How tight my wet warm pussy is for you?” You start to bounce, and Eddie, stood, corrected.

He tried to hold on as your tits started bouncing in his face as you worked yourself up and down on his cock.

“Touch me,” you panted.

Eddie didn’t need to be told twice. His hands snapped up to your hips gripping you tightly before he ran them up to your swollen breasts.

You throw your head back as Eddie pinches your nipples, exposing your neck. Eddie acts on instinct, wanting to ravage you, he sits up and latches his mouth onto your exposed neck, then down your chest to your perked nipples.

“Oh baby,” you cry at the sudden movement beneath you. The new angel only sank his cock deeper into your cunt. He was filling you so good, you’ve never felt this full.

“Can I - can we switch?” Eddie can’t take it he needs to fuck you, like really fuck you.

“Yes,” you were completely fucked out.

You let out a squeak as Eddie man handles you to be underneath him. He wastes no time pounding back into you the second your back hits the mattress. His sting hands are gripping your hips so hard you’re sure there will be finger shaped bruises. He nearly took your breath away as his hips snapped into your dripping pussy, your walls pulsed around him as his cock grazed that sweet spot that is deep, deep inside.

“OH EDDIE” you scream, eyes rolling back into your head.

It was music to Eddie’s ears. He wasn’t going to last much longer. He needed you to finish. He suddenly remembered the advice you gave him minutes before. His hand grazed down your body to your clit.

His touch sent a zap of pleasure through your core, only making your pussy tighten even more. His fingers worked your pussy slowly, a contrast from how fast he was thrusting into you.

Moans of ecstasy escaped your throat as your brain shut off. You were no longer in control; it was all Eddie.

“Baby, you still with me?” He coos in your ear.

“Fuck Eddie, don’t stop! I’m going to cum!” You wrap your legs around Eddie to pull him closer to you, not that it was possible. You wanted him buried inside of you forever.

“Come on, baby, come for me.”

You broke at his words. Your orgasm ripped through you as he worked his cock through your tight grip. Eddie broke as soon as you did no way he could hold on any longer.

A loud roar rips out of his chest as his seed spurts out of him into the condom that is buried deep inside of you.

“Fuck me, you sure that was your first time?” You giggle, still totally fucked out.

“Yep, guess you can say I’m a natural sex god.” his ego was definitely boosted.

“Mmmhmmmmm,” you nod in agreement. Rolling over to wrap a bare leg around his body.

Eddie couldn’t believe his life could be this sweet. He wrapped his arms around you and fell asleep with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

Tags!: @nailbatanddungeon @s6raphic @3rd-conchord @sadbitchfangirl @gri959 @reidsbtch @taintedcigs @skyline4446 @babygorewhore @mmunson86 @paybacksawitch @lesservillain @imyourdaninow @bimbobaggins69 @liminalpebble @keeksandgigz @lightcommastix @wtfmariaclara @st4rgirll3 @ali-r3n @xxhellfirebunnyxx

#Eddie Munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #virgin!eddie munson #virgin!eddie munson x reader #sub!eddie Munson #sub!eddie Munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson angst #Eddie Munson fluff

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hoseoksluna · 1 month

Text

STEAM | myg ft. jjk

pairing: boyfriend!yoongi x oc (feat. jungkook)

genre: smut

word count: 9.2k

summary: one video call awakens your neediness for two cocks.

playlist: steam / pinterest board: steam

warnings: female masturbation, mentions of shower sex, praise kink, toying with the idea of polyamory, a hint of voyeurism, oc rly goes through it and faces mental battles, fear, intoxication, punishment, dom/sub dynamics, fingering, choking, cum eating, manhandling, degradation, provocation, mutual masturbation, rough & raw sex, brief oral sex (f. receiving), pet names

note: IT'S FINALLY HEREEEEEE SKFDSFLSFJ, okay so—let me introduce to you a new yoongi series featuring JUNGKOOK oh my god. i am SO EXCITED about this and i wanna apologize for my insane ideas in advance... i'm so sorry, guys. nevertheless, i hope you like this as much as i do, i literally went mad writing this and i smoked so many cigarettes i lost count. please, let me kNOW UR FAVORITE PARTS CUZ I HAVE SO MANY AND I WANNA TALK ABOUT THEM. oh fuck, guys. ENJOY READING SDKFJSD. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

side note: btw, the playlist i made is literally perfect and depicts the fic wonderfully. you can listen while you read! <3

The scent of mangoes finds its way up your nostrils, heating your senses through its balmy touch as you rub the body butter over the damp skin of your arms. Fingers graze along your décolletage, tucking in the fragrance for your boyfriend to breathe in when he comes home. He’s out for the night—said something about his friend finishing his military service, so the whole group was going out to celebrate it. Yoongi was so frantic in his excitement, hastily putting on the first outfit that sparked his eye. Didn’t even touch his hair, only sprayed a mist of his sandalwood and tangerine-tinged perfume. Grabbed his phone, keys, wallet. Barely kissed you goodbye before he fled out of the door.

He didn’t even ask you if you wanted to come along.

You didn’t mind, though—you’re only in the early stages of your relationship. It hasn’t even been half a year since you’ve started dating. And you figure he deserves a night out with his closest friends because you’ve been attached to the hip since the beginning. Funnily enough, you no longer live at your own place. Somehow, you’ve settled in Yoongi’s apartment, never setting foot outside, save for your walks, grocery shopping, the few dates with your friends and work. There wasn’t any conversation about it; you just mostly spend your free time with your boyfriend.

And all you do is fuck, eat and watch movies.

The last time Yoongi took you out was during the first two months you’d been getting to know him. The realization of how long it’s been sends a trail of chills down your arms and you rub it away.

But because you’ve been spending all your time together, you’re glad to have a moment to yourself—glad to be able to take a long hot shower, to do your hair and skincare. Perhaps, you’ll even have time to do your nails and that energizes you, propels you to spread the body butter further down the rest of your body. It is your rose garden, these night times reserved for your hot showers. The place you go to—your hideaway from the pressure and nerves of life that the steam loosens and soothes, especially when you let your sultry playlist echo through the mightiness of Yoongi’s bathroom, your favorite singer’s voice reaching your veins like the growing stems of those roses; pretty, pink and so feminine. Yes, Yoongi’s therapy sessions and thick length might have been a great help, the best in fact, but there’s something about letting yourself be burned off of all that’s been weighing you down and watching it trickle down the drain that is just so satisfying.

It was all that you were once used to. That is, until you met Yoongi.

Showers with him are something else.

Something you never thought you could ever have the blessing to encounter. Showers with Yoongi are intense, so out of pocket that you find yourself thinking about them fondly whenever you’re alone with your thoughts. There, beneath the downpour of the warm water, he lets you see the other side of his ever unyielding stern façade. While holding you, he would make you laugh, then make you moan and break that sound with each hard plunge of his cock. Hair slicked back, smirk adorning that delicious wet mouth, causing him to look like a Mafioso bent on absolutely ruining you. He would tell you the most insane story he heard from his friend, then talk you through the build-up of your orgasm while continuing to the point of that story—seamlessly waving through, never losing tempo. “Then, he went up to his hyung to ask him about what he did—yes, just like that, honey, take it. I know you’re almost there, just listen.” You would come all over his cock, sprinkling him with your essence, right there at the end of his story and like a hungry man, he’d get on his knees and eat you up, muttering how good you are and how well you did along with each swipe of his tongue. Your lungs would heave due to the overstimulation, your legs would tremble, unable to stand and he’d gather you into his arms, fold you like paper into the crooks of his body and let his thick duvet drape over you. He’d fall asleep first, breathing in the scent of your shampoo, snoring softly behind you while spooning you, never letting go of his deathly grip around you. And while you would breathe in the haze of lilac sprayed on his pillows, you’d become aware of the drowsy rhythm of his heartbeat, the lift and fall of his chest against your back, the snug heat of his body and it would lull you to sleep.

That has become your new version of hot long showers.

And if it isn’t this, then it’s Yoongi letting you quickly wash yourself before he’d steal you away, dragging you into this bed, only to carry you back there an hour later.

You speculate he has a serious, adorable case of attachment issues.

That is why you enjoy your exceptional alone shower all the more—you haven’t had it in so long. Only this time, it’s quite different.

You feel him everywhere.

You feel him in the drift of your hand down your tummy because you recollect the way he likes to pepper kisses there on his way to eat you out. You feel him when you round your palms across your backside because you know he particularly likes to leave traces of saliva when he presses open-mouthed kisses there. His love for you circulates in your bloodstream, mingling with the little love you have for yourself, making it bigger, turning it into a turbulent rush of liquid. You sense it tapping beneath your skin, asking for more of your body just like Yoongi does, always begging, begging for more—for more skin to kiss and lick, for more sensitive parts of you to find and nibble on.

Your hands sense the ghost of him even when your fingers slip past your mound and realize that the film of your memories dampened your cunt. You hear the words of praise he’d utter into your ear at the discovery and you sigh at your tender touch.

That’s a good girl. Messy for me.

The rotund case of your body butter remains opened, forgotten. You suddenly have better things to do—like give your body the self-care, the self-love it deserves.

It’s a part of the solo girl's night.

A mewl comes out of your mouth at the first round of circles on your clit. Furrowing your brows at the pleasure, you prop your free hand on the edge of the bathroom counter, riding the pads of your fingers. And then, just like Yoongi taught you, you take your digits away, edging yourself, taking them elsewhere. You cry out at the contact of your wet fingertips on your stiff nipple and you pinch the nub, a spasm of delight coursing through your sensitiveness.

You imagine Yoongi standing behind you. Not touching you, merely guiding you, telling you when to stop, when to pick up the pace—when to fill your hole. Watching you in the mirror, hands in his pockets, having a perfect view of your slick-caked folds, of your clit swollen and asking for his tongue. Determined to make you lose your mind by teasing you, letting you only slap your pussy once you’re close. Your essence drips out of you at that thought, making a mess on the floor and you plug it in with your finger, fucking yourself steadily, inflamed by how slippery your heat is, how easy it is to slip the digit inside. Hot flashes close over your body, pearls of perspiration kissing the crook of your neck. You fuck yourself faster and—

A sudden ring of your phone jolts you. And the picture of your boyfriend, half dressed, with the early morning sunlight leaking over the scars and tattoo on his shoulder, crammed inside your screen, greets you.

You pant hard, your finger still inside of you. Delirious.

He must be on his way home. You don’t even know what time it is.

Leaning forward, you hide your breasts behind your forearm and you swipe your finger to accept his video call.

Blurry Yoongi. The night sky, starlit and alive, behind him. A shoal of silhouettes, some lanky and some buff, all short-haired and all as woozy-lidded as you. The picture smooths into a crystal clear view and there you see your boyfriend, the nocturnal breeze brushing his ebony hair back. Not just him, however, but another male craning his neck to regard you fully.

His eyes flicking from your neck to the smallest of your exposed décolletage, a smirk blossoming on his face like your imaginary roses.

Yoongi slaps his phone face down. You withdraw your finger from your heat, a cacophony of giggles, whiny cries and the exclamations of his name emitting out of your mouth.

He is not, in fact, on his way home.

It is a warning, his low and strict call of your name back and, heeding it, you take your phone into your hands, so he’s only able to see your deeply flushed face. Device back in his hand, he’s not looking at you at all. As a matter of fact, he’s shooting daggers fueled with deadly nightshade at his friend, grumbling something that you can’t quite make out amidst the chaos and bustle of the outing. The shoal of the rest of his friends and strangers disappear out of the perspective, as if threatened by the cold energy.

You wish you knew what he’s saying to him. Even your pussy aches to hear it. The principle of him scolding his friend for looking at you at your most private moment scorches you and you’re red, flattered and majestically horny.

Yoongi turns his head to see if you’re well-behaved and you beam at him, the pulse on your clit intensifying, forcing you to say, “come home, Yoongi.”

He chuckles, aware of the reason behind your words, pretends he isn’t. “What were you doing, baby?”

The growth of your grin doesn’t falter. You show him the sheen of your wet finger in the ivory bathroom light, the glint, the stickiness as you push your index finger to your middle and pull away, your arousal on full, filthy display.

He curses under his breath. Doesn’t give a fuck that his friend sits beside him and adjusts in his seat. Bites his lip briefly. “Stick it in your mouth for me.”

Doesn’t say the words that so very often follow after in that sentence. Taste yourself.

Why he doesn’t step aside to take this video call eludes you, but something about you being watched by two pairs of eyes excites you. Enough for you to do as he says. Perhaps it’s due to the fact you don’t know the male sitting beside him and Yoongi is letting him keep his sight glued to the screen.

Two sharp inhales of breath. Not one of yours. Yoongi readies his hook to feignedly lash out at his friend and you press your thighs together to alleviate yourself of the unbearable feeling between your legs. Confidence, a bad, bad version of confidence suffuses you whole, turning you into a person gone mad by lust. You swirl your tongue around your digit, the tanginess of your taste causing your eyes to narrow, the principle of driving not just one, but two men mad just the same intoxicates you, as if you were there among them, drinking.

A pair of round eyes peek at the corner of the screen. Soft, naive, so terribly innocent. A dash of sobriety washes over you, owed to those brownish effervescent orbs, a sprinkle shame pooling low in your core. A reality check. You sense some kind of stability of that reality beneath those eyelashes of his, the stability that whispers—is this the right thing to do?

It’s not rough, it’s not stern, it’s not Yoongi coded—it’s anything but. Gentleness is what you detect, free of any prejudice.

You sigh. Millions of thoughts about how you could toy with them pass through your mind, but you decide against them, the stability a pillar that blends into your spine, helping it unbend. You can’t do this; you can’t do this to Yoongi and you need to keep your dignity intact in some way, despite the fact that every fiber of your body compels you to do the opposite. You distract yourself by screwing the lid of your body butter back on.

“Good girl,” Yoongi coos, causing you to whisk your eyes to the screen in perhaps disbelief, shame or your still pending arousal—you’re not sure. How can you be a good girl when you let another man see something so lewd? How can your boyfriend validate something like that? “One more beer and I’ll be home. Wait for me on the bed. As you are.”

Naked.

Heat rushes to your cheeks, to the surface of every part of your skin, dragging away small ounces of shame. You curse, mentally, running a hand down your face. Yoongi downs his drink without taking his gaze off of you, watching your reaction, adds once he swallows, “and don’t touch yourself.”

And with that, he hangs up.

The harsh comprehension of what the fuck just happened envelops you in a confining embrace, the precipitately increasing weight of shame now a burden on your shoulders that you just can’t shake off, even when you slink your arms through sleeves of your silky robe and welcome in the summer breeze coming to caress your face on the balcony—even when you burst your lighter to a flame and light up your cigarette, inhaling the smoke that you hoped would rid you of its such uncomfortable hold around you.

You licked your cum clean under the gape of a guy you don’t know in front of your boyfriend.

His friend heard the order. Don’t touch yourself. Yoongi didn’t whisper it. Didn’t camouflage his words in any way. Uttered them straight and bare, allowing his friend to hear them, despite the fact he almost fought him then and there for sneaking one glance at your moderately naked form.

Question marks hover in your mind and the pulse on your clit cries, seemingly knowing the answer.

Did Yoongi like it as much as you did, the aspect of having an audience?

The wetness in your heat dribbles out, staining your thighs. You squeeze them together, the drag of your cigarette hard and long, expecting to feel your nerves burn off. You gain no such thing—no relief, no lifting of the burden, just constricting tangles in your tummy, zippy spasms of butterflies going mad, mad, mad.

Perhaps Yoongi didn’t like it at first until he perceived the auspicious debauched look on your face. Saw the way you didn’t hesitate to oblige him when he told you to stick your finger in your mouth. And perhaps the fact that you didn’t express any signal of discomfort was the key to unfastening the leash on his possessiveness over you.

What have you done? What have you so selfishly and disgustingly done?

You hang your head in your hands, the white smoke intertwining with the burden on your shoulders and pressing down harder on you.

That’s why he let his friend hear the command. Don’t touch yourself. He saw the way you indulged in it, and that awakened his liking for it.

Yoongi lied when he said he’d have one more beer.

By the time you hear the thunder of his voice, all the roses in your garden have wilted, leaving faded, withered petals in its wake—leaving a path of your internal battle all around the apartment for Yoongi to follow. You’ve paced, your bare feet stepping on them. Tried to untangle yourself from the incarceration of your mind by chain-smoking, but to no avail. The only change that took place in your body was the decline of your shame, for you couldn’t help but imagine what could have happened, had you let free rein to your desire—had those round eyes never looked at you with such purity. You figured there wasn’t anything bad about letting your imagination be colored like that, and so you sat on your boyfriend’s couch, cigarette switched to a coconut-flavored vape, and dreamed.

You dreamed about those two men being of service to you, right here on the same couch, where they would lay you down and make you squirt over and over again, betting between each other who could make you come the fastest, counting down your orgasms until the number was a mere blur to you.

The throb on your clit heightened to heavenly levels and when you emerged from your dream, you found yourself being able to breathe—your momentary disappearance tricking your shame into leaving. It was difficult for you not to touch yourself and you opted to adhere to Yoongi’s wish, not risking to feel worse than you already had.

The war ended, undeterred by the fact you never expected it to.

Loud swear words roar in Korean. You rise to your feet to open the front door for Yoongi and you discover that he’s not alone at all.

The same pair of round eyes, the cause of all the ruckus you just departed from, meet yours, hauling you back there with a force. Your mouth falls agape and before you can react any further, Yoongi stumbles into you. You almost topple over, realizing you didn’t care to steal a glance at the state of him, but the male grabs a hold of Yoongi’s jacket and pulls him back. You wish you had tumbled over and the floor had opened up and swallowed you whole. It would have been less embarrassing than to be stuck in this situation. You want to run, you want to scream—

“He’s drunk out of his own mind,” the male says, his voice deep like the warm wind before a tumultuous storm, fitting just right with the thunder of Yoongi’s intonation, his gaze wandering over the entirety of your shock-stricken face, taking it in; giving you the same attention that fucked you up hours ago. Yoongi begins to mumble something you can’t momentarily focus on, his hands grasping your waist, lips latching onto your neck. No, you cannot for the life of you focus because the man steals you all over again and you hate how easy it is for him to do that, when you’re far from being available. “Don’t ask what made him drink this much.”

Did Yoongi get drunk because he let his friend in on your most intimate moment?

Humiliated, turned on and angry altogether, a concoction that simply worsens everything, you draw back from your boyfriend. You want to beat at his chest with your fists just to have some sort of relief from blaming him—because if you blame yourself, only doom consumes you. Why did he call you? Or, essentially, why didn’t he step away to take that damned video call?

“Thanks for walking him home,” you say eventually, your voice smooth, despite the violence of your feelings, despite wanting to say something else entirely. Your first words to him and, wholeheartedly—despite it all, you hope they aren’t last, even if that possibly makes you a despicable person.

Yoongi’s friend nods. Chews his bottom lip and lowers his gaze to the ground for a split second. You wonder if he feels the need to remove himself from this uncomfortable situation as much as you do because you can’t read anything in that paleness of his countenance. Not a hint of any emotion whatsoever, just blandness of expression, slightly dimmed by the few thick strands of black hair that have fallen from his disheveled, pushed back mullet. As if they did fight after all, perhaps on the way home, or wrestled if Yoongi was being difficult.

You don’t realize you and the male are just staring at each other until Yoongi places his hand on your cheek, brushing back a wisp of your tresses. Only then do your eyes flick to Yoongi’s and you finally notice him, the gloss in his hooded irises searching and searching for you, the rosy blush on his cheeks, dry parted mouth and the dart of his tongue as he wets it, softening the flecks that have been created there.

This is it. If you are focused on him, all things are made right—all things that have been stained get purified and dreams get turned into dust. This is the man you’ve fallen for, who puts you before himself and has done so every day since the moment he made you his. You can’t let anyone else get in the way of the home that your relationship has become, you can’t let your feelings flee—

“For the record,” Yoongi’s friend starts, hand massaging circles on the nape of his neck, the leather of his jacket tight around his arm. Your heart jumps and beats against your chest ferociously. “I didn’t see anything, if that helps you sleep better tonight.”

It’s such a fat lie and you’re about to shake your head, but then he looks at you with such sincere regret that, ultimately, you choose to believe him. Just to keep your peace of mind unscarred.

Yoongi tightens his hold around your waist, which grounds you, and a small part of you begins to bloom in healing, disseminating little by little across your whole body.

A healer with big, round eyes. A good man.

With a swing, Yoongi closes the door but you don’t hear the click. No, the light spills in from the hallway. Your hands reach for the doorknob but Yoongi blocks them and wraps them around his waist while swaying on his feet. He traces the shell of your ear with his lips, his alcohol-reeking breath wafting over you, and softly, you whine his name. Shuffling beyond the door, feet never entirely moving—the male is still standing outside and he hears as Yoongi hums at your call, as the sound grows into a groan at the feeling of being alone with you at last, at the feeling of all that makes you feminine under his hands. He hears your gasp as Yoongi pushes your chest flush to his body, kisses you harshly and cups your bare pussy. Hears the smack of your mouths, the pop once he withdraws, the squelch of your wetness. Hears as Yoongi murmurs, “you been horny, baby? Wet for me, hm?”

It’s those words that make him shut the door for you.

You made Yoongi drink a lot of water.

And while he downed the glasses, you ordered him Thai food from his phone, which he now devours. You had wanted to change out of your flimsy robe into your plush pajamas, but Yoongi stopped you with a tight grip on your shoulder and with the nastiest puppy eyes he could manage, considering his plastered state, he begged you not to. Informed you that he wanted to fuck you in your little robe and you told him that if he wanted that, he needed to get sober.

He’s your boyfriend and you trust him, but you don’t feel comfortable having sex with him while he’s wasted and you’re not. It’s a dangerous territory you don’t ever want to cross.

So, now he eats as quietly as a mouse, feeding you every other bite with his chopsticks, meanwhile you’re jittering your leg with your arms crossed across your chest, mind full of the male who walked him home. Of the way he pulled you under and resurfaced with you soon after. Of the calm peace you feel all over the perimeter of your mind that peculiarly stresses you out. Of what would happen if you voiced your little dream to Yoongi, especially.

Was it out of the question or would he consider it?

Your leg jitters harder.

You want to tell him, badly. Seeing his friend in real life changed fucking everything. If you hadn’t, you would’ve forgotten about it in the days to come. Yoongi would’ve fucked it out of you in most probability. But those eyes… those eyes got under your skin.

“Stop fidgeting,” Yoongi scolds with his mouth full of food, no hint of slurring. The hot meal and hydration worked a miracle. “You’re making me nervous.”

He picks up two cut pieces of chicken with his chopsticks and stuffs your mouth, adding a few pieces of vegetables as you’re chewing. Watches you swallow it, noticing how your eyes are focused on nothing in particular on the other side of the room. Tucking his utensils under his palm, he places his hand on your thigh, halting your restless motion.

You still won’t look at him. Too lost in the overthinking maze, debating whether you should speak or remain quiet about your desire. A strong part of you fears his reaction and the other half is horrified at the possibility of being turned down—

Yoongi takes his hand away. Props it on his cheek.

“I can see your pussy from here,” he says, licking his lips. “You’ve shaved?”

You breathe a soft laugh, turning your head to face him, covering yourself with the small fabric. Dark, but tender eyes, void of any glossiness, awake and stirred—amused. Cheeks awash with color. Lips puffy, a dark tinge of red coating them. A sturdy fist on his cheek, the milky jawline underneath. That messy hair, the slicked-back look ruined by the constant rake of his fingers through them, now falling to the side from the middle. That slender body, clad in the night from head to toe—legs outstretched under the table. So fine, so delicious. A beautiful strong man—all yours. Why do you want another one?

You slide your leg across his thighs and Yoongi slouches in his seat, discarding his chopsticks.

“I shaved everything,” you respond, cocking your brow at him—a sly invitation for him to feel its smoothness.

And he does. Runs his hand up and down your skin. Goes as far as lifting your other leg onto his lap, cradling them both, thumb caressing your calf. The movement causes your robe to expose you again and, cursing the fabric, you go to cover yourself, but Yoongi stops you.

“Don’t bother,” he mutters. “I wanna look at it.”

You raise your brows altogether, looking up at him. “You wanna look at her?”

Yoongi smirks. That dangerous tug of one corner of his mouth to the side. Your death, your undoing, the root of your submission to him. “I want to have her at my disposal.”

You gulp and Yoongi catches it, chuckling. Drifts his hand down your calf, to your heel, to the middle of your foot up to your toes. He plays with your pinky. You note the fact he changed the pronoun after you did.

Your arousal returns at full speed.

“Did that make you wet?” Low, low is his voice—you feel it prodding at your core, thrumming vehemently.

You blossom like your roses, thoughts put to the side.

“I’ve been wet this entire time,” you say, zeroing in your gaze on the flick of dimness that whirls past his eyes. “For hours.”

He makes a sound of pitiful nature. “Poor baby.” Furrows his brows and juts his bottom lip out, making you weak. Lets his hand roam on your thigh. “So you listened? You didn’t touch yourself?”

You merely nod your head quickly. You were too distressed to give your body the pleasure it sought. Too busy flaring your lungs with the burn of smoke. And you respected his wish enough to keep your hands to yourself.

Yoongi coos. “Good girl.”

A flashback—your lips wrapping around your slick-coated finger, Yoongi praising you and… another pair of eyes watching. Chills spread across your arms, your stomach flipping. Thankfully, your shame is kept at bay. It relieves you.

“Can I feel how wet you are?”

A sweet, devious smile. “If you can manage to get to her.”

You press your thighs tightly together. Yoongi looks at you as if you’ve greatly offended him and alas, he turns your chair so you face him head-on. Forces your thighs apart without any strain at all—and there you feel it, the embarrassment of fucking with him, once your pussy is at complete disposal to him just like he wanted.

“If your pussy wasn’t so pretty, I’d make you regret your words,” he purrs, eyes fixed on your drenched flesh, hands pushing your thighs back until your knees are at level with your shoulders, folds parting with the movement, revealing more of you. Yoongi wets his mouth with his tongue.

He thumbs your gleaming lips back and forth, collecting your essence, mesmerized by them. Looks at you intently.

“It wouldn’t hurt to say sorry, though,” he says, narrowing his eyes at you. “Would it?”

You grin at him. “Sorry, Yoongi.”

He rubs your swollen clit in slow circles, still with his bedewed thumb, still with his eyes on you. You choke out a moan at the delight permeating through your being. “That’s not the proper way to apologize, now is it?”

You lean your pelvis into his touch, a natural body reaction unfolding. He disapproves. You scrunch your face. “What should I say?”

Yoongi tuts. “I’m barely touching you and you already forgot your manners?”

The only answer you emit is an uncouth whine.

He shakes his head, putting pressure into his circles for a mere beat of time before he slaps your pussy curtly. A vivid spasm of pleasure fills you and you moan. “Needy girl. Don’t I take care of this pussy enough? What’s this behavior?”

Another whine. A roll of your body, asking for more of his touch. “Spank her again.”

A cock of his brow. Harsh, stern, evil. His hand remains propped on his thigh, shoulders hunched. “I didn’t hear you say please. You wanna be bad? You want me to make you cry?”

You know just how much he’s capable of doing that. You shake your head ‘no’. You want gentleness, the kind you saw in his friend’s eyes—

You flutter your own shut to get rid of that thought. Take a deep breath.

“Spank my pussy again, please.”

Yoongi massages the apex of your thigh, dangerously close to your cunt, squeezing the flesh every once in a while.

“Apologize first.”

“You didn’t tell me how.”

He clicks his tongue and pinches your folds and your clit between his fingers. You cry out, and then Yoongi gets up to his feet, leaning over you, propping his hand on the back of your chair. He begins to swiftly spank your pussy over and over again. You just jump at every contact, moaning, eyes flicked to his, never breaking apart. Taking it, taking it so well that Yoongi kisses you nastily, licking into your mouth. Then, he grunts. Fingers flat against your clit, he moves them from side to side. Roses, a myriad of them, flood your form with their freshness and dewiness, with their beauty and delectation and you shudder, you scream, you arch your back off of the backrest—

“Say, ‘I’m sorry, Yoongi. I’m such a bad girl that I deserve every spank and I’ll take it until it hurts.”

Flabbergasted and horny beyond measure, your mouth falls agape. Your brain turns into mush, the pleasure paralyzing you, your sounds now loud and obscene, the roses in you flitting, growing and murmuring. Yoongi adds more pressure to your clit and your eyes sink back into your head, his darkness wafting over to you, seeping into your skin—now completely yours.

You repeat after him—word for word. With a simper on your face that causes him to scowl at you, as if you dared to toy with your punishment he bestowed upon you. But then, a tongue prods the inside of his cheek and he laughs, taking a hold of his dominant role and making sure you know. He spanks your clit twice in a row, hands lifting to fondle your nipples.

“Good,” he praises. “You like that, don’t you? Spanks on your pussy?”

You don’t like that softness. Like the personified thunder he is, it is the calm before the storm. It unnerves you, the expectation of what might come next and your disliking of it. Nonetheless, you brim with the craving to have his fingers inside of you. Your hole clenches at that and Yoongi notices, hissing under his breath. The language of the darkness rises on your tongue and you figure that if you let loose, you’ll get your wish fulfilled.

“Yeah, it feels so good—” He pinches your nipples between his knuckles and you mewl, your lashes shaking at the impact, another set of wetness coating your folds. “Please, fuck me with your fi—”

You don’t even get to finish your sentence. Yoongi plunges his middle finger into your heat, cursing at your tightness, at how slippery you are and at the delight of being filled at last, you knit your brows. With his other finger, he traces the outline of your puckered mouth, his breathing hard and ragged.

“I’ll do anything for that pout of yours, fuck, no matter if you deserve it or not,” he utters, slipping the digit inside. Instinctively, you suck on it and only then does Yoongi begin to pump you slowly. “You just need a little roughness to be good, don’t you?”

Dumbly, you nod, swirling your tongue around him, but a faint, silenced part of you begs for the gentleness that you know hides somewhere deep inside his chest, never once unfurled during such intimate times.

You pay it no matter, too fucked out to think.

When he adds a second finger into your heat, he does the same thing with his other hand. Two fingers in your cunt, two fingers in your mouth. And he fucks you with both until you gag and a light flashes in his eyes—then, he withdraws all together, leaning against the table, his bedewed fingers coming to rest at his hardened length in his pants.

Roses, opening. Roses, sighing.

You breathe heavily, needing to finish, needing to have him in your mouth—

“You liked being the center of attention today?” he husks, surveying your whole body, bent in half.

There it is—the storm. Just what you expected. Cold sweat dribbles down your spine. And it is fear, what you feel, even when you refuse to admit it. Stiff, tempered fear that pervades each and every vein on your body, regarding being possibly degraded, being made feel dirty—regarding, even, tasting the dark wine of his wrath.

Such a stark, sudden change.

You don’t want this. You don’t want any of it.

Abruptly, an internal question comes and pokes you in the middle of your forehead.

Will you succumb to it or will you, with the wildly fresh darkness within you, fight against it?

You take a deep breath, and in with the air also follows, with the little rationality you have amidst the sensuality of your lecherous appetite, the decision to take a hold of it all. To take charge. Just like he did.

You shall prioritize yourself. Your feelings, your desires—your roses.

Your choice envelops your fear in bubble wrap. It doesn’t dissipate. And as much as it pains you, you take a mental note of that.

“I did,” you spit out, angered by the fact you’re afraid of your boyfriend, and so you stand your ground. “It made me so fucking needy and I want more.”

The relief that hits you almost causes you to weep and you lower your legs to the ground. Not wanting him to see the film of tears clouding your eyes, you avoid his gaze. Yoongi crosses his arms across his chest and clicks his tongue at you, disapproving.

“Keep your legs where they belong.”

“No.”

A lift of his brow. He crouches down to your level and cradles your face in his hand, forcing you to look at him. And there he sees, under the waterfall of your hair, your emotions at his disposal. Yoongi studies you, frowns at you and you want to sob, you want to go home. Shame slithers towards your spine like a ghost, and although it keeps a distance, you feel its presence prickling your back. You cover your cleavage.

“Why are you crying?” Yoongi asks, a silky murmur, eyes flicking between yours. His fingers don’t caress your skin; they merely hold you firmly, making dents in the skin.

You don’t trust that voice, dismayed by what might lie under.

“Why did you do that to me?” you ask in return, and it’s a blue fire shooting out, engulfing the room in stifling heat. You catch a glimpse of its sparks in the dimness of his eyes, of how he’s momentarily stricken by it before it folds beneath the shadows.

“You want to get fucked by someone else?”

A question for a question.

You swallow down the lump in your throat, caused by your frustration.

Your devotion to him didn’t let you go as far as to imagine being fucked by his friend while Yoongi watched, but the brief flash of it in your mind is enough incentive for the heat to spill into you, mingling with the darkness, turning you candescent, traveling through you until it finds your core—and there, it stays. There, it finds home.

The pulse on your clit returns, filling you with abrupt energy.

There’s something about him coming up with it that makes you unhinged, but you’re so utterly sick of the instability of your feelings. You need it to stop.

“And what if I do?” you retort. “What will you do?”

Truthfulness, at last.

Yoongi takes in a sharp inhale of breath, and that is the only reaction you receive from him. Nothing else on his face flickers; no wrath, no sliver of jealousy, not one thing. You stare at an empty canvas, ready for you to paint on. And you simply decide that you want to start.

You push his hand away from your face. Stand up to your feet. But the hardened look he gives you inclines you to sit back down.

You fight against it.

Untangling the knot on your robe, you let him see your bare femininity. The perkiness of your breasts, the long dip of your stomach that he likes to pepper kisses on. Yes, you’re aiming for his weakness.

And you decide to repeat history.

You reach your hand down, lower and lower while he stares you down, and you collect your glimmering essence. Sinking your finger into your mouth, you make a show of rolling your eyes back and moaning faintly, softly. Your other hand, in the meantime, unbuttons his pants.

The breath Yoongi inhaled hitches in his throat.

“Is this not evidence enough?” you purr, dragging down his zipper. “How else am I supposed to show you?”

You pull his manhood out as you suck on your finger, all while maintaining eye contact. You don’t touch him beyond that. In fact, you withdraw your hand altogether.

And then, you collect your essence again.

This time, you smear it across his bottom lip. Yoongi lets you. Your heart thuds, threatening to jump out of your chest.

“Your actions during the video call told me everything,” you whisper, catching the sliver of wooziness scattering along his narrowed eyes. “And I think you liked it more than me—the thought of sharing me. You can’t hide it. Not when I saw it.”

Yoongi growls. Then, he surprises you.

He parts his lips for you.

And the contact of the pad of your finger with his wet tongue coaxes a string of your dewiness to drip down the side of your thigh. You moan for him. Relieved, fucked up, woozy just the same. Finally, finally, finally.

You’re in charge. And it feels divine.

His length twitches against the fabric of his T-shirt. Long, hard, drooling. Such a delight for you—and so you continue.

“I also think it made you hard. Not just because you called me when I was touching myself, but because your friend was right there beside you,” you purr, your voice a seductive sound of silk—leading him to wrap his lips around your digit. You moan for him, showing him how much you like that. “Isn’t that right, baby?” Your walls clench at the pet name, solely due to the fact that these soft terms of endearment have always been addressed to you, never the other way around. It thrills you. “I’d always be devoted to you, even if he fucked me. I’d look at you the entire time. If that’s what you want. I had a different idea, but yours is just—” you pause, and again you make a show of sighing and rolling your eyes back, “better.”

A straight hit to his core. A glee for you.

But you don’t realize how much you fucked up until Yoongi grips your waist and the hold hurts enough that you wince.

And then—then he manhandles you.

Lifting you and laying you down on the table, Yoongi spreads your legs. Watches you drip, watches as the satiny fabric follows the movement of your limbs and reveals you in all your entirety. He pulls you closer to him with a sharp tug until you collide with the tops of his thighs. Bends over you. Hovers his lips above yours. You expect him to kiss you—he even angles his head and rubs the side of his nose against yours—but he never does.

He only leaves you waiting. Leaves you submitted to your empty expectations, taking charge, taking his control back from you. You shiver in anticipation, reaching for him, however he pins your hands down on either side of you. An angel in a rose garden.

Yoongi chuckles, darkly, his teeth glinting in the yellow light. You fight against his hold, hips rolling against the underside of his length, beckoning him to do something, anything. You merely manage to prolong the thunder of his laughter.

“One cock isn’t enough for her, so baby wants two,” he spits. That smirk, the crinkles around his eyes—he’s enjoying this. The hint of degradation doesn’t reflect what’s swarming inside of him, doesn’t reflect the face of pleasure coursing down his body. You smile and he scoffs. “I have enough friends for you to choose from in case you want more. I think you’d be stellar at taking three cocks. Four, even, huh? Would you have enough then? One in your tight little virgin ass, two in your cunt, one down your throat?”

You gulp, frozen, eyes widening.

Yoongi bites his shiny lips, nudging the tip of his nose against yours. Kisses you once. Begins to rock his hips, his length sliding across your wet fleshiness. The moan that escapes your throat trembles with each delicious motion.

“You watch too much porn, honey,” he coos, giving you tiny kisses on the mouth. “I’d kill anyone who would come near this pussy. And I’d kill Jungkook, too, if he so much as glanced at her.”

So that’s his name. You mewl, knitting your brows. That’s his pretty name. The entirety of your form shivers at the discovery, at the pleasure given to your throbbing clit.

Yoongi pulls back, setting your hands free.

You prop your elbows on the table, pouting. Yoongi grasps his length, spreads his arousal and begins to jerk himself off.

“You’re not fucking Jungkook. You’re mine.” He groans, squeezing his tip; your hole clenches. “Rub your clit.”

Like him, you spread your arousal on your seashell, the arousal long caused by his presence and now the mention of his name—the reason behind your frustration and his, the reason why you’re spread on the dining table, why your boyfriend is hard. You rub your clit from side to side, amused.

“No,” Yoongi disapproves, knowing you do the motion when you want to prolong the build-up. “Circles. Make yourself come.”

You change direction, obeying him. A sly grin blossoms on your lips, dark eyes looking up into his, permeating them, permeating into his soul. You pick up the pace, moaning into your expression of elation.

“Jungkook is such a pretty name,” you provoke and you heighten your sounds in volume and intensity just to piss him off, just to have your way.

A grunt escapes him, matching your pace. He wraps his fingers around your throat and squeezes. You hum.

“A pretty name to moan in my opinion.” A layer of sweat coats your body. Yoongi grasps your jawline firmly and your satisfied laughter inches you closer to your orgasm. You feel the hot flashes, roses surrounding you—its tender petals grazing your feverish skin. You give in, watching Yoongi do the same, his mouth in a tight line, hissing and sizzling, an open fire, an open fire you want to be radiated by, burned whole by. “Just imagine him here, watching us. Oh my god, imagine him knowing he’s the reason why you and I are doing this.”

Yoongi has had enough.

He pushes you down harshly. Fills your hole to the hilt without letting you adjust, observing himself disappearing inside of you and begins to pound you into the table. The sound of skin slapping, the hard and quick strokes, the ravaged grunts he lets out, the fast change—it all takes your breath away, so much that you can’t, in fact, breathe. He grabs your face and makes you look at him. The dead of the night captured in his features, you absorb it, whining like the brat you are onto his mouth, mingling into your noises your approval, your yes’.

Swallowing it, he kisses you, keeping his eyes open. “He could never fuck you like this.”

You laugh. He swallows that, too, moaning. “What if he could?”

He taps you on the cheek, a warning, giving you an exceptionally hard stroke that causes you to scream. He pauses. Does it again. Over and over—and your screams echo across the room, your own soul slipping out of your body. Petals flutter against you and you’re done for, hanging off the edge. You’re close, so terribly close. Your eyesight blurs and Yoongi pulls out entirely and rams into you. Again and again, abusing your cervix.

You moan his name, gone—entirely gone.

“Yes, moan my name like that. Just mine,” he mutters. “Who’s fucking you this good? Who’s gonna make you come?”

He rams into you more rapidly than before. Your senses leave you until all that you know is Yoongi. His name, his scent, the wholeness of the night encompassing him.

“You, Yoongi, you. Fuck, I—”

Yoongi laughs maniacally. “Yes, that’s right. That’s my good girl.”

He rolls his hips, slowing down the coming of your orgasm, owning you. Lets your senses come back to you momentarily. You swallow, your throat dry and you blink, dazed still. Yoongi kisses you, giving you all that he took from you.

“Who’s only capable of fucking you like this, honey, hm?” he asks, his voice tender and sing-song. “My pretty honey, so fucked out. So out of it.”

You whine and you don’t control what comes out of you, your body answering for you. “You, Yoongi. You’re fucking me so—so good. I can’t—fuck. You’re the only one.”

He smiles down at you fondly, kissing your nose, then your lips, parting your mouth and swirling his tongue around yours briefly. Then he withdraws, begins to fuck you again, slowly, reaching to the side for something.

Once you see his phone in his hand, your heart stops. And when he puts the device to his ear, your throat dries up even more. You suddenly become aware of the silence all around, especially in your chest. You can’t breathe, you can’t blink—

Yoongi jackhammers into you, purposefully luring your loud noises out of you. “My girlfriend wants to fuck you.”

You gasp, squeezing your eyes shut, the suddenness, the quickness of pleasure you haven’t yet felt piercing you. Fuck hot flashes and petals, you feel a heavy urge of your orgasm closing down on you.

“She’s so desperate for you, even when I’m fucking the life out of her.”

You flutter your eyes open to see Yoongi surveying you. You scrunch your face—so close, so fucking close—and then he puts the phone to your ear. Breathing, hard, ragged breathing fills all of your senses and you come.

It’s an explosion. Roses bursting, their dew soaking you and Yoongi whole and you exit. You exit out of this situation, this world, this universe while your soul remains here with them. Vibrancy, colors so beautiful and sensations so vivid, ardent and fierce. You don’t know what it is you’re feeling or where you are. That is, until Yoongi’s voice yanks you back to planet Earth, back into this world, this situation—back to them.

“In fact, she just came for you. Squirted.”

You sob. Overstimulated, rhapsodic, but effulgent. Yes, you emit light and glow. You can see it in Yoongi’s softened eyes.

“Think about it. No pressure. Just know she won’t shut up about you. I recall her saying your name would be pretty to moan while she played with her pussy. I think it’s only right you fuck it out of her.”

With that, he hangs up.

You brim with so many emotions that it numbs you. Happy tears flow out of your tear ducts—and happily, endearingly, Yoongi chortles. You don’t even feel humiliation or shame. On the contrary, you’re ready to come again.

Yoongi kisses you and the sounds he slips into your mouth divulge how happy he is about this, how pleased he is with himself.

You pout, burning your eyesight into his. He begins to rut into you.

“What, you’re not even gonna thank me?” he says, grinning, as if he wasn’t fucking you at all, as if you two were still sitting at the dinner table, conversing.

You stammer, head empty, silencing yourself and trying again. “What—what made you change your mind?”

Yoongi places open-mouthed, wet kisses along the bone of your jaw, and there he seals his answer. “I made up my mind the moment you admitted you wanted to be fucked by him, but you wouldn’t shut up about him. I wanted to hear you babble for me. About me. I just had to mess you up to get to that point.”

You mewl, running your hands through his sweat-slicked hair. Like a cat, he perks up to your touch, lifting his head, angling it. He kisses you, deeply. Kisses your relief.

“Where are your manners, hm?” he whispers onto your mouth, giving you hard strokes that erase your vocabulary. You want to make him come and so you push against his thrusts, but to no avail. The intensity won’t allow you.

“Thank you, Yoongi,” you murmur, cradling his face, pecking him, giving him the softest eyes you could muster so you can show him how much it means to you.

He approves of your effort on bettering your manners and to reward you, he lifts you up and fucks you in the air. Your breasts bounce against the material of his T-shirt, stimulating you and he alters between jackhammering into you and sliding you up and down on his length. Your pussy squelches around his girth, tightening and Yoongi—

Yoongi loses his mind.

And it’s him who begins to babble when you snap your hips down on him in circles.

“Just like that, honey, oh fuck. So good, so good for me.”

He takes it until his sounds grow in volume and you focus so much on his pleasure that you forget about yours.

But you don’t let him take charge.

“Let me fuck you, please, Yoongi. I wanna make you come.”

Just like you, he’s out of it and because of that, because you asked so nicely, he lets you.

His chest heaves, staccatos of his choked out breaths sail through the room and you can see it on his face that he’s close. Brows furrowed, bottom lip bleeding due to the way he bites hard on it, the way his mouth pops open and his eyes flutter closed.

You hold onto his neck with your dear life.

“Look at me,” you demand and swirl your hips in slow circles around his tip. “I want you to look at me when you come.”

You’re so stunned that he allows you to be in charge, even more when he truly does open his eyes and pierces his gaze into yours.

“I need to pull out,” he breathes, but you shake your head, snapping your hips down on him harshly.

“No, I want your cum in me. And I want it to be inside of me when Jungkook fucks me.”

Yoongi grunts and this is it for him. His cock twitches in you, over and over again and then you feel it—the hot, thick ropes of his cum stuffing you full. You’re so mesmerized by the feeling, by the blissfulness evident on his face, by the smoothness between his brows at last that you can’t even milk him dry. You’re frozen, stupefied by his beauty, by his personal rapture and you want to feel it in unity with him. You kiss him.

It’s him who fucks him cum into you, burying it deep, moaning into your lip lock.

It’s him who lays you down to your original position and briefly, feebly licks the sheen on your spread lips before devouring your clit.

It’s him who gives you the fastest orgasm of your life.

And it’s him who tells you—in the shower—the story of how he almost beat up Jungkook black and blue once he heard him say how pretty you are.

And it’s you who checks up on him.

“You sure you’re okay with this?”

You’re stroking his hair in the bed, the duvet heavy and warm around your body and his, the night overflowing into morning—Yoongi, too.

He’s falling asleep, but still conscious, still here with you, purring.

“I wouldn’t be waking him up in the middle of the night if I wasn’t,” he whispers, opening his eyes to look at you, to see you enveloped in the extra blanket of the dawn’s rosy light—glowing, throwing the sun off of its throne. “Poor guy just got out of the military and you’ve already rocked his world.”

You smile, fondly, thumb caressing his temple. Yoongi hums in appreciation.

“I’m happy for him he’s getting pussy—one that’s mine. Before he enlisted, he spent all his time painting and getting drunk alone,” he pauses in a thought, blinking at the light. “You still want this?”

You nod, settling into his chest. Yoongi pulls you closer, tucking the duvet into the lines of your form, bringing in comfort and sleepiness.

“I’ll make sure you have the time of your life. I’ll be here the whole time, taking care of you,” he promises against your hair and you squeeze him.

“He hasn’t said yes, though. He could turn me down.”

“I’ve seen the way he looked at you. You have nothing to fear. He’ll come to you like a puppy.”

Yoongi sinks the promise onto the plane of your forehead and holds you as you drift to sleep. Happy, relieved, steamed off of all the negative things you went through. It evaporates into the dawn—far, far away from you.

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thebibliosphere · 7 months

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I love how transparent you are about what its like to be a self published author in this day and age, and i was just wondering if there was a difference on your side between amazon ebook/paperback and audible - and also if Scribd is any better, because i use it as an alternative to amazon whenever possible (and whenever the library doesnt own a copy of whatever im looking for) is it functionally all the same? What is best for you?

Thank you!

I actually did a huge long post a while back when I got the audiobooks produced and uploaded to various platforms. I included Scribd in the breakdown after people falsely claim that Scrib is better for authors than Amazon/Libraries.

A lot of people were not happy when I burst that particular bubble by showing that Scribd paid me 97 cents out of the 19.99 price tag. Which is less than what Audible paid me.

Now, obviously, Scribd is different because it's a subscription service, and you’re paying for access to multiple things with that subscription. But saying it is better than libraries is just false because I also showed the numbers for that, and my income from libraries was several times higher than both Scribd and Amazon combined (for audio), which is why authors are always begging people to request their work in libraries.

Libraries pay us better and are usually free. Not always. I know it depends heavily on the country, but for most of my English-speaking audience, that is the case.

Now, this is not to say people shouldn’t use services like Scribd. If Scribd is what you can afford and it gives you access to things your library can’t fantastic. Please continue to access our work through that legal option. I would much rather earn 97 cents than zero.

But uh, yeah, Amazon pays me more than Scrib for digital stuff and I really don’t like when people who aren’t on the author side spread misinformation and frame it as some more “gotcha.”

The sad truth is Most retailers pay us the same or within the same royalty range. The difference I earn between Kobo vs Kindle is literal pennies with Amazon coming out on top. I make my work available on multiple platforms to give people options, but unless you’re buying directly from my personal storefront, it's all roughly the same.

I do actually earn more from Amazon paperbacks than I do any other retailers (for self-pub, paperbacks are a flat rate regardless of how much a retailer is charging), but the difference is about ten cents, so I always tell people to buy from wherever is best for them.

I like bookshop.org because they give some of the profit on their end to indie bookstores. Same with libro.fm for audio.

Audiobooks are just a whole fucking nightmare. Audible sets your price point for you and takes 80% of your royalties. And because Audible does that, I have to then use that price tag on all other platforms or risk being fucked by the algorithm gods. Other audio retailers take about 60-70% in royalties, most of them veering toward 70%.

As we say in radical acceptance therapy, it is what it is—fucking end-stage monopoly driven capitalism.

Now, speaking personally, when it comes to digital media, I earn the most royalties from my Payhip store where I keep 90% of my income.

That's the best place for me.

It's also why it's worth looking up an author you like to see if they have their own storefront. It doesn't help our sales rankings or put us on any bestseller lists, but frankly after launch week, who cares. I’ll take being able to feed me and my dog.

I hope that helps!

#indie author shit

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re-lmayer · 1 month

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i've found myself in a bad situation. the tl;dr is i have to move, but i can't afford to. i'm a disabled student and just do not have the funds required to rent a truck, hire movers, and cover deposits. so, i'm offering various services on my kofi, but if you don't need those you can also donate there or via paypal. my cashapp and venmo are both erinshelley91 if you'd like to donate on those platforms (i couldn't figure out how to link to those)

if you can't afford to commission me or to donate, reblogging this post and sharing my twitter thread is a free way to help me out and is so appreciated!

more context and stuff under the cut, i just don't want to make a long post on ppl's dashboards

my landlord has been cheating on his husband, and their relationship is rocky. he also has a massive spending addiction according to his husband. his spending addiction is making him not want to perform the actual duties of a landlord, because investment costs are cutting into his shopping spree funds

ex, he is illegally not fixing a leak in the shower of the upstairs tenants, and claims the costs are more than their rent. he told them to "figure it out, or get the fuck out." (verbatim.) he also told me it would be cheaper for him to not have tenants at all bc his utility bills would be smaller. he then left it to ME to inform another tenant to leave (then gaslit me and denied it in front of his husband when his husband questioned it)

in his words, we have 90 days to leave. i am disabled and a full time student and have been living on my fafsa returns, and the last job i had made one of my disabilities worse to the point i've had intensive physical therapy (several hours several times a week) and am likely going to have to undergo surgery

i'm also mi/nd, so even on a good day i'm not very well equipped to handle things, and the recent stress has also caused my therapist to see me several times a week in lieu of institutionalization

all that said, i'm not in a good spot physically or mentally, hence the best i can do right now is offer some of my skills on kofi

i'm currently working with my state's vocational rehab to try and find a suitable job until i can get my degree, but even then i simply would not be able to afford the costs of a sudden move in the timeframe i've got to work with

UPDATE MARCH 25, 2024: i want to invest in a scooter to do gig work like doordash. this will let me work at my own pace, and earn towards the move myself, then i'll have some more independence to continue doing that after as well

they require 50cc or under, which means i could get a scooter for under $1,000. i'd also need to cover fees to renew my license (i let it lapse since i haven't had a vehicle), get a helmet, and get insurance (roughly $100 annually)

i also made some amazon wishlists for folks who would like to help but prefer to know exactly where their money's going. i have one for housewarming stuff here, and one for necessities here

update as of april 5: my cat peed on my bed, and since it's a memory foam mattress it soaked all the way through and ruined it

update as of april 7: she did it again. this time there's blood in it

update as of april 14: i still haven't been able to take her to the vet, but i've been trying to do at home remedies

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yuri-for-businesswomen · 3 months

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my dream is to found a company that only hires former prostitutes for entry level work like cleaning or customer service or data input or something provide them with free housing where they can get free therapy coaching training childcare and if needed language classes and a fix salary with low minimum and flexible hours and every hour worked on top gets paid extra and companies will want to hire us despite being more expensive because they can boost their image with it

#rambling #the government should subsidise this actually #and any profits get redistributed

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nelkcats · 1 year

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It's not kidnapping, it's borrowing

When Jazz first decided to study psychology she didn't know what she could major in, maybe child psychology? Taking into account all her experiences. Or she could go a step further and specialize in obsessions. Even ghosts, though that would probably make her look weird.

In the end, she decided on something else, and after graduating she opened a clinic in a challenging place: Gotham. She might even give superheroes appointments in the future, considering that having Black Canary do all the Watchtower sessions didn't seem like a good idea.

Surprisingly it was a success, and she got several clients, even if some of them preferred to keep their identities a secret. She was pretty sure they were superheroes or millionaires.

Interestingly, her clinic got quite a reputation and at some point, villains started kidnapping her...To receive therapy? Jazz was about to break free and destroy whoever had kidnapped her on her way out of work (of course she knew self-defense), but Killer Croc looked contrite and…shy?

It turned out that several villains required her services but couldn't make appointments due to their lack of good reputation, there was also the fact that they didn't want to go back to prison, and wouldn't talk in an environment like Arkham (Jazz didn't like the place either, despite of considering it in advance), so she allowed the "borrowing" after work. As long as they didn't invade her apartment.

When Red Hood went to rescue the psychologist from her sixth kidnapping of the week (and damn, why did she refused to report it?) He didn't expect to find Crane crying in a chair and Dr. Fenton scowling at him as she comforted the villain.

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mightyoctopus · 8 months

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Library posts on here have me so conflicted.

On one hand, libraries can provide a lot of value to a lot of people, and it's good to inform people of this. Like, I was recently talking to a friend (grown man in his 40s) who didn't know that you could read books for free at a library. The more people are informed about this matter, the better.

And of course, some libraries also provide other services such as movies, board games, internet, printers, 3D printers, cheap coffee, meeting rooms, courses, etc. Talking about this is also good, because many people can benefit from these services! Especially people who otherwise wouldn't be able to afford them.

But (and here comes the but), I feel like some people on this site are really insistent on claiming that all libraries offer all these services for free, always. And that no library has any flaws at all. And that anyone can access a library at any time. And if you don't, you're a traitor for not supporting your local library.

And like... there is so much wrong with that. First of all, not all libraries offer all these services. And if they do, they might not be available in minority languages. (Spanish in the USA, Turkish in Germany, etc.) And if they do, they're not always free. And this can vary greatly on region and country, too. Not the whole world is the USA. There's places where libraries are rare and spaced very far apart. There's places where libraries are "mobile", meaning they're a car filled with books. Or sometimes a donkey. I think it's great that mobile libraries exist! It's great that people in villages near me can get free books that way. But also, it's absurd to claim that they have the same type of access as someone from a big city. It's absurd to claim that they're class traitors and it's their own fault because they didn't "create demand" and "support their local library." They do not have a "local" library. Not everyone has a local library!

And even if there is a library near you, it's very possibly inaccessible! Most countries do not have laws regarding accessible design, and if they do, they're rarely enforced. Before you go on praising how all libraries are perfect and wonderful, ask yourself, how many are accessible to disabled people? Which disabled people? Wheelchair users? Blind and visually impaired people? Immunocompromised people? There's so many of us. Yet we are so often left out.

Some countries have libraries specifically for disabled people, but most often you need to qualify and prove your disability. I have a membership in such a library. A lot of them will only accept visual impairment and no other disability. I was lucky I was in occupational therapy at the time of my enrollment, because my therapist could approve my paperwork for me. Otherwise I might not have been able to join. It's online only and costs money. It's not free. A lot of books are region-locked since I'm not in the USA. And yet I am so grateful everyday for this opportunity, for this access to books. I know many disabled people aren't so lucky.

My point is not that libraries are bad, but that libraries are very diverse. Pretending like all libraries are not only perfectly alike, but also perfect, helps no one. Libraries can provide vital services, but they do not provide these services equally around the world, and they do not provide these services equally to all people.

If you truly love libraries so much, fight to make them better, fight to make them accessible. Don't silence those of us who are left out.

#library #actually disabled #accessibility #booklr #booktok #I'm the OP

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intheholler · 3 months

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Appalachia & Southeastern USA LGBTQ+ Resource Masterpost

Under the cut, you'll find queer-focused resources sorted by state.

I have a sister post with donation links for those outside of the region who'd like to help us grow.

If you aren't from the region, I encourage you to find the organization that speaks to you the most, put your money where your mouth is and help us be better.

If you are from the region, I sincerely hope this can help you or someone you know in some way.

This list is inexhaustive as Tumblr is only permitting 100 links (which is also what necessitates the sister post and is why you may not see your contribution unfortunately).

Disclaimer: I do not (necessarily) personally endorse these organizations, nor have I vetted them thoroughly. If I have included anything you know to be detrimental or harmful in any way, please DM immediately me so I can rectify it.

General Regional Resources

Appalachian Outreach organizes events and provides access to resources for the queer community all across Appalachia.

STAY (Central Appalachia) is a youth-led activist organization in central Appalachia.

Trans in the South is a directory for gender-affirming healthcare in the south.

Southerners on New Ground (SONG) is a queer liberation group funding projects, protests, and campaigns to build a queer-friendly south.

Southern Trans Youth Emergency Project (STYEP) connects trans youth affected by anti-trans legislation with gender-affirming healthcare providers in the southeast; they offer grants up to $500 to individuals for emergency support.

Trans Health Project helps trans folks understand, access and utilize their medical insurance. They provide grants for gender-affirming surgeries.

Campaign for Southern Equality provides funding, training and resources for/to queer individuals and activists.

Not region specific, but important all the same: Help suspected transgender John and Jane Does regain their identities.

Resources by State

Alabama

AIDS Alabama helps provide housing to vulnerable individual and families, including helping queer youth find housing.

ALTGO’s list of local resources for gender-affirming care, legal services and generally queer-friendly physical/mental healthcare.

The Knights & Orchids Society provides housing, healthcare, and general support to the Black queer community.

Based in Birmingham, Magic City Acceptance Center offers supportive safe spaces and direct support to 52 counties in Alabama.

Medical Advocacy and Outreach in southern Alabama provides HIV+ care, as well as HIV & hepatitis C testing.

Prism United funds free therapy and hosts gatherings for queer individuals along the Gulf Coast.

Shoals Diversity Center is a Florence-based group that offers mental health services, support groups and other resources for the queer community in the Shoals area.

T.A.K.E. Resource Center provides direct support, grants, housing advocacy and other services for trans women of color in Alabama.

Thrive Alabama facilitates access to queer-focused healthcare services in North Alabama.

Georgia

Carollton Rainbow organizes queer-focused social events in West Georgia and provides tools for advocacy in the community.

Emmaus House is a soup kitchen in Savannah also providing laundry and shower facilities.

Emory is an Atlanta-based, queer-focused law firm.

Feminist Women’s Health Center (I know the name isn’t necessarily ideal, sorry) in Atlanta offers trans-inclusive, affordable medical care. They also provide access to abortions.

First City Network in Savannah provides referral services for healthcare, advocacy, education and mutual aid for queer Georgians.

List of housing assistance in the Savannah area

Stonewall Bar Association of Georgia serves the queer community’s legal needs in Georgia.

Kentucky

AIDS Volunteers of Lexington (AVOL) provides housing and assistance to low-income people living with HIV/AIDS.

Arbor Youth Services provides emergency shelter to queer youth in Louisville, up to age 24.

Berea Human Rights Commission offers free investigations into claims of housing or employment discrimination with a focus on queer folks.

Kentucky Health Justice Network provides referrals to gender-affirming providers, as well as financial assistance for trans healthcare and abortions.

Kentucky Youth Law Project provides free representation to queer youth.

Massive Kentuckian LGBTQ resource list provided by Lexington Pride Center, broken down into easy-to-browse categories.

Louisville Youth Group strives to give queer youth the tools and skills they need to grow personally and facilitate positive change in their communities.

Sweet Evening Breeze helps queer young adults in Kentucky between the ages of 18-24 obtain emergency housing.

Trans Kentucky’s list of gender-affirming healthcare providers across the state

Guide on changing your name following gender-affirming surgeries in Kentucky, and a tool to help you do so.

Louisiana

AcadianaCares supports folks living with HIV/AIDS while providing support to houseless and impoverished individuals.

ACLU Louisiana website.

Community resources in New Orleans, Baton Rouge and Lafayette (much of it only provides addresses and emails, so it’s hard to link individually here).

Directory of trans-focused healthcare providers

List of in-person and online queer support groups. In-person groups are based in Monroe, Lafayette and Baton Rouge.

Mutual aid in Shreveport

Out of the Closet provides clothing for the queer community with multiple locations throughout the state.

OUTnorthla is a queer film-festival hosted by PACE Louisiana.

Queer-forward healthcare in Louisiana.

QUEERPORT is a grassroots org offering a platform for queer creatives.

Tulane Drop-In Clinic provides free medical and social services to runaway and otherwise houseless youth.

Guides for legal name changes in Louisiana.

Mississippi

Capital City Pride hosts pride events, meet-ups and book clubs for the queer community around Jackson.

Gulf Coast Equality hosts drag shows, food drives and other events for the Gulf Coast area.

The Spectrum Center in Hattiesburg offers a community closet, short-term emergency housing, free HIV testing and scheduled support groups/events for the queer community in Hattiesburg.

Violet Valley Bookstore is a queer feminist bookshop owned by a published lesbian author in Water Valley.

Guide for name changes in Mississippi.

North Carolina

Charlotte Transgender Healthcare Group (CTHCG) connects trans folks with gender-affirming care.

Down Home NC helps rural working class communities organize to advocate for their rights.

Guilford Green Foundation & LGBTQ Center provides financial support to queer nonprofits and activist groups in NC to fight anti-queer legislation.

Ladies of the T is provides resources and support to trans and gender non-conforming women of color in the Tri-City area. .

North Carolina Gay and Lesbian Attorneys (NCPMB) provides attorney referrals, visibility, and support for the queer community.

Pitt County Aids Service Organization (PICASO) provides HIV prevention and testing services in Eastern NC, as well as support for individuals living with HIV/AIDS.

Asheville-based Tranzmission’s compilation of trans-focused medical, social and legal resources in WNC.

Triad Health Project provides free HIV testing, contraceptives, prevention outreach, daycare and access to their food pantry in Guilford County.

Durham-based Triangle Empowerment Center provides the queer community with emergency housing, access to PrEP, as well as support groups and other events.

South Carolina

Harriet Hancock Center is a community center offering social support for queer individuals in the Midlands area.

Free gender-affirming gear to South Carolinians!!!

Alliance for Full Acceptance (AFFA), a queer-focused social justice group

List of queer-friendly medical providers across the state

Uplift Outreach provides safe spaces for queer youth in Spartanburg.

Charleston Black Pride serves the queer POC community in the low country area.

We are Family Charleston’s community center hosts support groups and provides direct support to the queer community around Charleston. They offer microgrants to trans individuals in the state as well as in-person support groups and aforementioned free stuff for trans folks.

Closet Case is a thrift store by and for queer individuals, operated by We Are family, offering safe and affordable clothes shopping.

T-Time holds support groups for trans individuals, based in Myrtle Beach.

Palmetto Community Care provides confidential HIV testing and support as well as free contraceptives.

South Carolina based community support network for the trans community

Legal assistance in Columbia, SC/Midlands area

Guide on changing your name in South Carolina

List of queer-safe, gender-affirming care providers in Columbia, SC

Tennessee

CHOICES provides low-cost LGBTQ healthcare, among other services, such as abortions.

Emergency housing in Tennessee for those living with AIDS

Launch Pad helps queer youth among others obtain emergency shelter in the Nashville area.

Metamorphosis provides transitional housing and other emergency support for queer youth between 18 - 24.

Mountain Access Brigade provides abortion funding across the state.

My Sistah’s House in Memphis provides emergency housing and support for queer people of color, as well as access to health services for sex workers.

The Seed Theatre in Chattanooga provides free resources such as binders for the trans community and hosts safe, social spaces.

Tennessee HIV Prevention & Care

Trans Empowerment Project provides support to trans and gender-nonconforming folks around Knoxville.

Youth Villages provides emergency housing for youth under 18.

List of trans-focused healthcare providers across the state.

Virginia

Counseling, free hygiene products, temporary housing and more provided by Side by Side VA

Virginia Home for Boys and Girls partners with Pride Place to provide temporary housing for queer young adults (18-25).

Side by Side VA provides temporary housing for queer youth for up to 6 months.

Nationz, based in Henrico, provides free STI/HIV testing, food pantry, PrEP, and notary services for the queer community.

Justice 4 All provides legal aid for low-income Virginians.

Virginia Rural health Association’s list of gender-affirming healthcare providers

General rural healthcare resources in Virginia

West Virginia

Dr. Rainbow connects folks with queer-friendly care in the state.

Fairness West Virginia’s list of gender-affirming care providers.

Harmony House West Virginia provides queer-friendly shelter for houseless people.

Holler Health Justice is a queer- and POC-led mutual aid organization based in WV, though they seem open to serving all Appalachians.

Holler Health Justice also provides financial/logistic support to West Virginians seeking abortions.

WVFREE connects West Virginians with birth control providers.

Nearby gender-affirming care for trans youth at the Cincinnati Children’s Hospital Transgender Health Center.

#appalachia #appalachian #anti-fascist south #queer #queer resources #alabama #georgia #kentucky #louisiana #mississippi #north carolina #south carolina #tennessee #virginia #west virginia

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dromaeocore · 10 months

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For those of you who like the idea of peer respites, I just want to say these are not the only alternatives to the mainstream psych system :] Here's a big ol' list, and many/most of them are peer-run. I live in America, so a lot of this is US-based, but I've tried to make it as internationally accessible as possible!

I'll start with the live-in options. So ya'll already know about peer respites, if you read my latest post about it. There's a few more similar things out there.

Soteria Houses - More long-term (months+) community homes for folks with lived experience of psychosis/similar extreme states, with peer support, that focus on a humane and person-centered approach. Much more freedom & agency than your traditional group home.

Hurdalsjøen Recovery Center - a "medication-free" (aka medication-optional) psychiatric hospital in Norway. Allows patients to choose whether to stay on or taper/remain off psychiatric drugs. Focused on healthy eating, exercise, and recreational therapy options.

Bethel House - Similar to Soteria Houses, a homelike environment in Japan for people with schizophrenia, etc. that focuses on social reintegration.

Organizations, clubs, groups, etc:

Students With Psychosis - A peer support community with programming for students with psychosis

International Map of Hearing Voices/Intervoice networks - Non=pathological support groups for people who hear voices, see visions, etc. US directory, UK directory.

Clubhouse International - Gives people with mental illness opportunities for friendship, employment, housing, educational, and medical services all in one place. Founded by a group of friends who survived a psychiatric hospital together.

Project LETS - A radical approach to peer support and healing that has a disability justice centered approach, giving people with lived experience a voice and focusing on mutual aid. They provide peer mental health advocates, self-harm prevention, and more.

The Mad Society of Canada: A grassroots community of practice that brings together folks who want to provide non-coercive, ethical, survivor-informed mental health services/policy.

Power to the Plurals: Resources and events for people who identify as plural/multiple/systems.

The Wildflower Alliance: Grassroots peer support, training, and advocacy community based in Massachusetts.

Alternatives To Suicide (Alt2Su): Peer support groups that allow people to talk about suicidal thoughts without fear of being committed to the hospital, etc

Trainings:

Intentional Peer Support = Trauma-informed peer support training

Emotional CPR - Trauma-informed mental health support training program for the layperson

Hearing Voices Curriculum: Targeted towards mental health professionals to better understand the experience of hearing voices. Warning: It's expensive!

Cities that have a particularly awesome way of dealing with folks in crisis/with mental illness/etc:

Geel - a farming community where residents welcome people suffering with severe mental illness/distress into their homes and live with them, share work, etc (Edit: apparently Geel is a small city with like 40,000 people and not a farming community lol, I was misinformed. Thanks to @roxbot for the correction!)

Trieste - a city with a community centered system of care that integrates housing and peer support

Warmlines (generally run by peers) and Crisis Lines that don't call the cops: (Most of these are taken from this post by trans-axolotl on Crisis Lines)

Trans Lifeline: 877-565-8860, 24/7

BlackLine: 1 (800) 604-5841, has texting options

The Plural Warmline (No number, check the site)

THRIVE: text message line at 313-662-8209, 24/7

Promise Resource Network: (833) 390-7728, 24/7

Project Return Peer Support Network: (888) 448-9777 English or (888) 448-4055 Spanish, hours are Monday through Friday 2:30 PM to 10:00 PM PST and Saturday and Sunday 10:00 AM to 6:00 PM PST

Wildflower Alliance Peer Support Line: 888-407-4515, hours are 7pm to 9pm EST Monday through Thursday and 7pm-10pm EST Friday through Sunday

Key Consumer Organization: 800-933-5397, hours are 8am - 4:30pm EST, Monday - Friday.

MBRLC Peer Support Line: 877-733-7563, hours are 4 pm-7:45 pm EST every day.

US Warmline Directory (unlikely to call cops, but check with the individual line first)

Misc:

CommonGround software - A software developed by Dr. Pat Deegan (an individual who was diagnosed with schizophrenia) that allows clients to communicate their needs to their doctors more efficiently to support shared-decision making with medication.

Open Dialogue- An psychosocial approach to psychiatric services that focuses shared decision-making and dialogue between client, providers, and family (if the client wants family involved), and often more minimal use of medication.

Integrative Psychiatry - A holistic form of psychiatry that focuses on nutrition, exercise, therapy, and psychosocial factors, where medication is just an aspect of treatment. US database of integrative psychiatrists here.

I will also give a somewhat honorable mention to Mobile Crisis Teams. They are a fairly new alternative to the usual "call the cops on your local mentally ill person". They are composed of nurses, therapists, social workers, occasionally peer support workers, etc. They hook the individual up with support/resources - which can often mean forced hospitalization/forced treatment FYI - but it is a step up from being killed by cops. Look up "[city] Mobile Crisis Team" to find out if there is one in your city.

A note: Something being on this list =/= it is perfect, just that it is an alternative to what we've got. So don't come at me, lmao. Feel free to add on if you know of anything else!

#long post #VERY long post lol #mental health #psychiatry #psych critical #psychiatry critical #psych wards #mental illness #neurodivergency #police brutality #antipsych #antipsychiatry #anti psychiatry #peer support #oh i'm gonna write a book on all this stuff btw uwu #WHAT ELSE CAN I TAG THIS WITH SO IT SHOWS UP FOR PPL???

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lixzey · 5 months

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Letters

warnings: mentions of therapy, grief, child abuse, keeping a child in a basement, starvation and malnutrition of a child, mentions of bruises, mentions of child protective services, bullying, and hospitalization

a/n: PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION ‼️‼️‼️This has very detailed scenes which may not be suitable for everyone. The last five letters will be the same, so heads up!

The Thirteenth Letter

Timothée stared out into the window, taking a deep breath as the plane soared through the clouds. He knew he had to continue reading the rest of Y/N's letters, as painful as it might be. He was terrified; there was no denying that. The mere thought of a young Y/N going through more suffering made his stomach churn, but he needed to know more. He would find her, protect her, and be there for her in any way he could. He couldn't change the past, but he could certainly make a difference in her future. He had to be there for her, to listen to her, to support her, and to show her that she wasn't alone anymore. Timothée swore to himself that he would do everything in his power to make sure that she felt safe and loved.

Timothée took another deep breath before opening the thirteenth letter, dated August 11, 2023.

Dear Timothée,

Sorry, this letter took a long time to write. I got caught up in therapy. I have a new therapist; her name's Gina.

She asked me about the letters since I had mentioned them to Julie before and they were written in my file. Gina asked me if the letters were helping me, and of course I said yes. She asked if I could show her one, and I did. She took it and ripped the letter into pieces, right in front of my eyes. I honestly didn’t know how to feel; I just stared at the pieces of paper on top of the table.

Gina said a lot of things about coming to terms with my past in a natural and slow process and that maybe these letters weren't helping as much as I thought they would. Writing to you was riling up those painful and bad memories, only making me feel worse. She also mentioned that false hope wasn’t good for me, which is bullshit because I don't really hope for anything anymore.

I know you won't reply. I know you won't even read any of my letters. Hell, I know you won’t ever receive any of the letters I wrote. I just like to pretend that you do, that's all.

After the 'session', Gina gave me a pamphlet. It was 'How to Deal with Grief and Coming to Terms with Loss'. It was shit, really. Because one of the bullet points says to talk about your loss with another loved one. Funny, because all of my loved ones are dead. So here I am, talking to you, because you are the next best thing.

So anyway, here's the continuation of the story of my fucking life.

I still spent the rest of my days down in the basement—locked up alone, scared, and nearly dead. I was sickeningly thin from malnutrition and dehydration. Bruises littered my body in all shapes and sizes; I had scratches all over—out of frustration and skin irritation from allergies, since I didn't get the chance to fucking clean myself. Every day, I prayed for some kind of miracle to set me free from that living nightmare. I didn't know how much longer I could survive in that hellhole. I could hear my aunt's voice upstairs every night, laughing and carrying on as if I wasn’t three feet under her house. It made me sick to my stomach to think about how she could go about her life while I suffered down below.

It didn't get any better, until my eleventh birthday came around. Honestly, I didn't know how long I was down in the basement. I had lost track of time, but it felt like I had been down here for years. Then one day, my aunt just dragged me out of the basement and shoved me into a bedroom upstairs. It turns out a social worker was looking for me. I was eleven, and the school year had just begun, but I wasn't at the local school, so child protective services got worried. My aunt got to work fast; she made me look as if I wasn't abused—that I was a normal and happy kid living with her. She did a fucking great job, I'm not gonna lie—she covered each and every blemish on my body with foundation and concealer—fucking impressive. She bought clothes, toys, and everything a child would need just so she could avoid getting arrested for child neglect.

When the child protective services came again, I was forced to act like everything was alright and that I was in a happy home. I desperately wanted to tell the social worker the truth. I wanted to scream so badly and just run into the social worker's arms and beg her to take me away, but I couldn't.

My life got a little bit better after that day, though. My aunt was forced to let me stay in the room upstairs rather than the cold basement downstairs since child protective services visited me every week. It was easier for her to let me stay in the bedroom than to make me look decent every time. I was never to leave the room unless necessary, not that I wanted to leave the room with my aunt around the house. I still got the bare minimum from her—I still got her scraps of food, but it was better than nothing.

Then middle school happened.

At first, I was excited to make friends with kids my age; I never had any growing up since I usually stayed at home with my parents and there weren’t really any kids in the neighborhood I grew up in. So, naturally, I thought that making friends would be easy.

I was too fucking stupid to believe that it would be easy. I mean who was I kidding? Middle schoolers were fucking mean—well, not high school mean, but you get the point. I was bullied relentlessly, and I always dreaded going to school; it was torture. The kids in my class always made fun of me, calling me names and treating me like shit. I was the freakishly thin girl who always wore baggy clothes that no one wanted to be friends with. There was this one time when this girl—her name was Claire—tripped me in the hallway, and I crashed into the janitor’s cart. Bleach and other cleaning chemicals spilled everywhere—on my skin, on my clothes, and in my hair. It burned my skin so badly that I had to be taken to the hospital to get treated properly. Until now, I still have burn scars on my arms and neck area. I had to wear long-sleeved shirts to cover up my arms, though in the long run, the burns weren’t the only reason why I covered my arms up.

I just wanted a normal fucking life, but life decided to push me into a living hell. Was that too much to fucking ask? I’m so damn tired, Tim. I don’t think I can live like this anymore. I’ve been through so much, and what’s written in this letter isn't even half of what I’ve gone through.

I think it’s about time to stop writing, don’t you think? As if you’d answer me, God, I never fucking learn.

Maybe Gina does have a point. Maybe these letters really are making everything worse.

All my love,

Y/n.

Timothée sighed, folding the letter and tucking it back in its envelope. He wanted to let her know that he was—in fact, listening—granted that it was a year late, he was listening. The pain and suffering she went through were unimaginable, and the guilt he felt for not being there for her when she needed him most was killing him. If the letters had just arrived earlier, he would have done anything to make it all easier for her.

“I hope you're still here, Y/n. I hope you didn't give up.”

@helens3amstuff @gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @tchalamss @ashlynnmalfoy @imnotoverlyobsessive @crazycat-ladys-blog @michakune @mxltifxnd0m @spencerr3idd @dangelnleif @sthkate @ferrjulie @mel-vaz @elsagreeer @lovely-maryj @meowmeowmau @bobthe-turmpetman29 @saintcosette @ashisabitgay @ladyladybuggg @nyrasunderwrld @lizzxoxo @remussbitch @jadahxx @starrystormwritings @ell0ra-br3kk3r @dreary-salem @drewsandsebastianswife @greenapplegrass @lilianelena39 @danni-phant0m @haybellewrites @cloudlst @si4a @ev3ningrain @ttulipwritezz @bambikitten @bullets-from-another-dimension @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @reg-arcturus-black @abruuinlove @marina468 @3stelar @timhalamet @st4rf00k3r @idli-dosa @jimins15thhair @blacksgarden

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magalhaessims · 16 hours

Text

DEL SOL BOULEVARD - MAXIS-MATCH CC BUILD

NOT CC FREE

Lot Type: Thrift And Bubble Tea Store | Retail

Size: 30x30

World: Del Sol Valley

Enable bb.moveobjects before placing in your game!

📺 WATCH THE SPEED BUILD HERE ✨

Origin ID: MagalhaesSims (remember to enable custom content on!) DOWNLOAD

CC USED IN THIS BUILD:

NOTE: For convenience, some of the CC is included in the Download Folder. Please put it in your Mods Folder along with the CC linked below.

Charly Pancakes: Lavish | Miscellanea | Modish | Munch 01 & 02 | Soak | The Lighthouse Collection || TheClutterCat: Baby Boo | Dandy Diary | Mermaid Mansion | On The Edge | Snuggle Set | Sunny Sundae || Felixandre: Berlin | Chateau | Grove Set | Shop The Look 01 - 03 | Soho || Harrie: Brownstone | Brutalist Bathroom | Halcyon Kitchen | Klean | Kwatei | Octave | Shop The Look 02 & 03 | Spoons || House Of Harlix: Baysic Collection & Bathroom | Harluxe | Kichen 2 Point 1 | Livin'Rum | Orjanic | The Bafroom | The Kichen || KKB-MM: My Cherish Things: Kitchen || LittleDica: Arcane | Chic Bathroom | Delicious Kitchen | Greasy Goods | H&B Store | Rise&Grind | Sleek Slumber || Max20: Cozy Bathroom Kit | Poolside Lounge (Plants) || MLys: Pufferhead Stuff Pack || Peacemaker-ic: Bowed Bedroom | Bowed Living | Creta Kitchen | Furrowed Plaster Wall | Geometric Mural Wall || Pierisim: Auntie Vera Bathroom | Calderone | Coldbrew Coffee Shop | Combles | David Apartment | MCM House | Oak House | Pantry Party | Stefan | Tilable Kitchen | Woodland Ranch || S-imagination: Nota Living Room | Rutland Kitchen || Sixam-CC: Home Office (Printer) | Hotel Bedroom (Hair Brush) | Private School (Water Fountain) || Someone-Elsa: Passion By Judith Ward Collection || Surely-Sims: Kitchen Of Tomorrow (Nuka Cola) || Syboulette: Fabulous | Happy Stairways | Love Is In The Air | Neighborly | Nothing To Wear | Pavilion || Taurus Design: Judith Living Room || Tuds: Beam Living | Ema Living

The CC Sets above are the main ones I used to decorate this specific building and you can find all the links to the creators’ sites on my Resource Page. However, if you can’t find something specific, you can send me a WCIF and I’ll try to help you find it!

HOW TO MAKE THIS LOT FUNCTIONAL:

For the Boba Tea Store, I've added the ThriftTea Bubble Tea Counter created by @srslysims. It features the same animation and interactions as the vanilla version but without the bulky counter it comes with.

For the Clothing Store, I recommend using the Fashion Store Mod by Nando. I've placed interactive mirrors in the changing cabins so your Sims can actually buy clothes from them.

For the Sephora Store, I'm utilizing the Functional Perfumes by @aroundthesims along with the Saleabration Store Mod by @ravasheencc, allowing your Sims to buy and use them! Additionally, I've included the New Styling Station (Chair) by @aroundthesims so your Sims can enjoy a little makeover at the store.

For the Bookstore, I'm incorporating both the Retail Therapy Mod by @ravasheencc and the Self-Service Kiosk by @aroundthesims, enabling your Sims to purchase books within the store. You don't have to have both mods installed if you don't want to; either one will suffice!

For a more immersive experience with this lot, I highly suggest downloading LittleMsSam’s Auto Employees Mod. With this mod, NPCs will automatically work at the lot once you place the correct object for them to appear.

Make sure to read all the information available on the mods' pages in order to ensure they work properly in your game!

My content will always be free and right away available to everyone, but if you want to, you can show your support through my Ko-Fi Page. Your donation will always be much appreciated!

Thanks: @maxismatchccworld @mmoutfitters @mmfinds @s4realtor @coffee-houses-finds @charlypancakes @felixandresims @harrie-cc @kkbsmm @littledica @peacemaker-ic @pierisim @s-imagination @imfromsixam @someone-elsa @simkoos @surely-sims @syboubou @taurusdesign @tudtuds

#the sims 4 #ts4 maxis match #ts4 build #ts4 cc build #ts4 speed build #ts4 community lot #ts4 del sol valley #ts4 shopping #ts4 retail #ts4 boba tea #download #build

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strawb3rrystar · 1 month

Note

can you do Blitzø x reader relationship headcannons or Moxxie x reader headcannons

The dumbass twins.

Pairing: Blitzø, Moxxie x GN! Reader

Warnings: Light mentions of their traumas, Blitz being emotionally distant (?)

Word count: 524

✰Masterlist

Blitzø:

✰Blitzø's love languages are definitely quality time and physical touch

✰He doesn't care what the activity is, he wants to spend the most time possible with you

✰Often, he'll curl into your side, or lay his head on your lap if your sitting on the couch or in bed

✰If your not, he'll float close by or stand next to you

✰It may come off as creepy at first, but he just wants to be around you, make sure you're okay

✰Also leaning into the physical touch aspect, he'll purr if you scratch under his chin

✰Kiss his scars and he'll kiss yours

✰Random compliments and flirtatious comments

✰Hugs you from behind and tucks his face into your neck. This will usually be when he's tired or upset

✰Speaking of upset, please let this poor imp vent to you. He desperately needs to let out all the repressed trauma

✰I can see Blitzø being a biter. He'll never NEVER break the skin. Just like a small love bite

✰He'll share his love of horses with you, and tells you all the different facts he knows

✰So NEVER make fun of him for it, even as a joke

✰He will cry

✰Blitzø might be emotionally distant at times, but it's nothing a little therapy can't help

✰I can see him being a good listener however

✰He might struggle with it at times, but he tries his best

✰But even if he's not the best partner at times, you still know he loves you

✰I mean, you wouldn't hang framed pictures of a person and have them as your lock screen and wallpaper if you didn't love them, right?

Moxxie:

✰Moxxie's love languages would be words of affirmation and acts of service

✰Sometimes, he need you words of encouragement to remind him you do truly love him

✰He'll have a habit of thinking he not good enough for you, so reassure him that he is

✰Like Blitzø, Moxxie loves to spend as much time with you as possible

✰This includes household chores

✰Moxxie loves to make you breakfast in bed

✰He'll let you pick the movie you watch or where you go out to eat

✰But he also likes to plan special evenings just for you

✰Moxxie also likes doing stuff to make your day easier

✰Like doing boring paperwork, or picking up the tasks that Blitzø gives you

✰Of course I have to also mention the gift giving

✰Moxxie isn't a big fan of expensive gifts

✰He like handmade ones instead, like a song or a ceramic bowl he made at a free pottery class

✰Another imp that desperately needs to vent, because again, repressed trauma

✰Moxxie is the best listener you could ask for

✰He can listen to you for hours on end without getting bored

✰And not just listening, he'll actively engage to keep the conversation going

✰But Moxxie also likes to go on rants himself, riddling off every fact he knows about the topic (mostly weapons)

✰He needs a partner who gives back as much love as he gives out

✰Because, this sweetheart has so much love to give it's insane

Star's notes -> I accidentally deleted Moxxie's part the first time I wrote it and it made me want to tear my hair out

(Thank you, sweet anon, for requesting!) (Requests are open!)

Taglist -> @samohxt2-0 @sunshines-bright | Join the taglist

#☆strawb3rrystar answers requests #helluva boss #helluva boss x reader #helluva blitzo #helluva boss blitz #blitzo #blitzø #blitzo x reader #moxxie #helluva moxxie #moxxie x reader

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nordschleifes · 2 months

Text

body work

➝ maybe agreeing to go to saudi arabia wasn't a bad idea…

➝ word count: 4,5k

➝ warnings: dakar!fer, flirting, mentions of bdsm, hot weather

➝ author's note: this last week has been extremely difficult for me, both emotionally and physically. i had a terrible migraine attack that left me practically unable to do anything other than cry or want to vomit. however, when she gave me a break, i managed to finish this one shot. i would really like your feedback, if possible!

You could feel your white t-shirt sticking to your skin, as well as your hair on the back of your neck. The desert sun made even the slightest effort feel Herculean, the hot wind doing little to alleviate the heat you felt even under the tent pitched on a stony plain near Al Wajh.

This was definitely not the way you wanted to start your year, but it wasn't like you had much of a choice. With a practically free schedule and a colleague unable to travel due to personal problems, it was up to you to go to Saudi Arabia to take care of one of the clinic's most famous patients.

— Fernando is almost here — you heard someone murmur next to you. Turning your face, you found a man with wavy hair messed up by the wind and his eyes half-closed as he looked at the horizon, searching for something on the horizon.

— Are you sure, Alberto? — you asked the businessman, raising an eyebrow — It's been ten minutes since people started arriving and nothing about them...

— From what they said, they were right behind another Toyota — he said, while a cloud of dust rose in the distance, indicating that another competitor was arriving at the competition camp — Ah, look at him there.

After crossing the finish line, you accompanied Alberto in an attempt to take the red, white and black painted Hilux to the closest point to the motorhome that had become your base of operations. As you approached the vehicle, which smelled of hot oil and gasoline, you saw the door suddenly open, revealing a figure wearing a blue helmet and a black jumpsuit with white and red trim.

— How it was? — Alberto asked, while the driver disconnected something from the central panel.

— Sand, stone and dust for ten hours — Fernando replied, as he unbuckled his seat belt and removed his helmet, revealing a tired smile — Ten hours! Can you believe that?

— I do — the businessman said, while helping the driver out of the truck. After throwing his helmet on the seat and hugging Alberto, Fernando headed towards the reporters who were crowding around a railing to talk to him.

Watching the driver take off his sandy coveralls, leaving his sweaty white Nomex in full view, you felt something warm rise up your cheeks, teeth finding your bottom lip.

You had never been carried away by the physical nature of your work. The barriers you had placed for yourself were always firm, as were your ethics that dictated that you should never get involved with anyone who requested your services. But since you had set foot in Jeddah, you have seen your own conviction tested every day.

And it was getting harder and harder to resist.

Taking a deep breath, you turned and headed towards the tent set up next to Fernando's motorhome. Upon entering the space, you realized how much needed to be done there before the driver arrived for his much needed physical therapy session. You still had to set up the table, arrange the materials and put on the instrumental playlist you loved. “Let’s go”, you thought as you headed towards your bag.

You were whistling some tune while lighting the scented candles when you heard a clearing of your throat coming from behind. When you turned around, you met Fernando's dark, curious eyes.

— Which song is that? — he asked.

— Ah — you smiled, while shaking the match you had used to light the last candle — I don't know, actually...

— It doesn't sound like that Ayurvedic nonsense you listen to during sessions — the driver slowly approached the massage table, resting one hand on it.

— It's not nonsense, Fernando, it's a way to help you disconnect and relax — you replied — Lie down.

— Edo doesn't put things like that — he murmured, as he sat on the kind of stretcher you had set up in the middle of the tent. Wearing a black coat over a white shirt and shorts of the same color, his hair had damp ends, probably from the shower — He knows that doesn't help.

— And that must be why you're always stressed — you said, giggling — Do you prefer forest sounds, then?

— I prefer the lovely chirping of a V10 engine — Fernando said, as the table he was sitting on creaked under his weight.

— Sounds of the forest, then — you concluded, taking the phone and connecting the device to the small speaker that was next to you. It wasn't long before the rustling of leaves filled the tent, contrasting with the engines and conversations coming from outside.

Putting your cell phone in your pocket, you brushed your hair away from your face as you approached the massage table, assessing Fernando's expression, who seemed bothered by something.

— Any points I need to focus on today? — you asked, resting your hands right next to his leg.

— On the left ankle — the driver replied, the crack drawing your attention to the spot below him. Moving the foot in circles, the sound repeated itself in an almost sickening way — It doesn't hurt, but it didn't make that noise before, so...

Standing next to his foot, you began moving it, trying to understand where the sound was coming from. Your fingers pressed Fernando's skin in search of the tendons and joints, the precise touch in search of what was bothering him.

After a few minutes of thorough exploration, without the driver making a sound of protest, you pressed your lips together. Although the absence of pain was a relief, unusual and frequent sounds meant there was an injury waiting to happen. And considering how much he must use that foot, having a strength problem at that point wasn't a good thing.

— Well, you aren’t injured…

— Excellent.

— Yet — you added, while letting go of his ankle — I think you'll have to do some tests when you get back home to see if you really have any problems.

— Could it get worse in the next few days?

— In theory, no, especially since you're not feeling any pain. But I'll talk to Edoardo and see what we can do. Any other points that worry you? — you asked, receiving a refusal from Fernando — So let's move on.

Turning to the small table you had requested to place your materials, you picked up the bottle that held your favorite massage oil and dripped a few drops into the palm of your hand. Then you walked back to the massage table where the driver was lying, his eyes fixed on the roof of the tent.

— Let me know if you feel anything — you murmured, before taking your hands to his calf and starting to massage it.

The movement of your fingers under Fernando's skin, searching for the small nodules where the stress and, consequently, the pain were, was something that relaxed you, in a way. Maybe it was the way you repeated the movements, the way your chest filled with satisfaction when you found a point where you could release the tension that was built up in his body after ten long hours of driving in the middle of the desert.

When you pressed a specific spot near his ankle, you heard him hiss.

— Did it hurt? — you asked.

— A little — Fernando replied, still staring at the ceiling.

— I'll be careful.

— No need — he murmured, which made you look at his face.

— Fernando…

— I’m fine, you can continue. Pain is good, sometimes...

You couldn't hold back a smile.

— Is there something bothering you? — you began, while pressing his calf muscles again in search of stress points — Or is this your way of revealing to me that you are a masochist?

The driver suddenly raised his head.

— Masochist?

You felt something warm rise up your cheeks. That kind of conversation was definitely not in the appropriate category, as your professor of ethics and deontology in physiotherapy had put it on the blackboard in one of the classes.

— It's just a guess — you replied quickly, turning to the table in search of more oil and a few seconds to breathe.

— Based on what? — Fernando asked.

When you turned back to the driver, you found him raised on his elbows. His gaze had a gleam of curiosity and something you couldn't identify.

— You just said the pain is good — you said, placing one of your hands just above his knee and below the edge of his shorts — I think it's a rather obvious hint of what you like in bed.

Fernando raised an eyebrow.

— You mean you think about what I like in bed?

A nervous laugh escaped your lips, fingers starting to work on his rectus femoris.

— Please, Fernando — you murmured, feeling your heart pounding inside your chest. That wasn't right, you couldn't think about those details about your patients, especially when it came to him.

— Come on, do you think or not? — he insisted, in a challenging tone.

— I'm not going to answer that — you just said, trying to focus on the tension points on his leg — Now you can lie down straight, I need to work on your thigh.

Lowering his head again, Fernando let out a long sigh, his eyes fixed on the roof of the tent. However, if you expected him to remain silent after your denial, you were sadly mistaken.

— I think about it…

— About what you like?

— About what you like — the driver replied, emphasizing “you”.

The statement made you swallow hard, hands running up and down his lightly tanned skin. It wasn't like you tried to get Fernando's attention all the time, quite the opposite. You always thought you were invisible to his eyes, just a face among the entourage that accompanied him during his participation in that competition.

— I wonder if you like to take it slow or if you prefer to get straight to the point. If you like to dominate or if you prefer to be at the mercy of your partner. If you like being touched or prefer to just touch — Fernando said, his voice getting lower, almost hoarse, as he explored the possibilities — I think about your eyes rolling, your mouth open, the noise you would make if I were inside you.

— Fernando — you murmured in an almost reprimanding tone.

He suddenly sat on the massage table, his face close to yours.

— Tell me you don't think about that either. Tell me you don't think about me.

You blinked, cheeks growing hotter.

It was obvious that you thought about him. There wasn't a day that went by that you didn't think about the way he smiled, the way he ran his hand through his hair before putting the white cap with black and red details on his head. There wasn't a moment where you didn't fantasize about what it would be like to kiss him.

— I — you stammered, about to give the answer he wanted, when you realized a particularly important detail at that moment. The most important thing, actually — Linda.

Fernando blinked, looking confused.

— Linda? What about Linda?

— She's your girlfriend, you're not...

He snorted.

— She's in the past, Y/N.

— But, you…

— Just answer me, do you think about me?

The air escaped your lips shakily.

— Yes, I do. All day. All the time.

Your confession made Fernando smile, bringing his hand to your face. The look you exchanged for long seconds spoke more than any dialogue you could have had. There were no ethics classes or girlfriends that could stop what was about to happen inside that tent.

And it was to the sound of the artificial rustling of the tree leaves that you kissed Fernando.

His touch was gentle at first, as if the driver wanted to make sure you were on the same page, wanting this as much as he did. And, the moment he realized that you didn't move away from his touch, Fernando deepened the kiss, his tongue touching yours for the first time.

There was something different in the way he kissed you, a kind of thirst, as if you were an oasis in the middle of that desert. His hands held your face tightly, as if you were going to run away from his touch at any moment. As the sound of the birds was drowned out by your own pulse, you were sure you would never leave that place as long as you were there. And you made sure to make that clear by nibbling on his lower lip when Fernando pulled away slightly, completely panting.

Opening your eyes, you met his green-stained gaze. That made you feel the same heat as the first day, when you introduced yourself to him as the physiotherapist who would accompany him during the competition. There was an intensity that permeated it, a glow that you hadn't identified until that moment, but that became clear in a split second.

It was desire. It always had been.

— Fernando? — you heard someone say.

You didn't have time to say anything before he turned his face away, running a nervous hand through his hair. His gaze went to the entrance of the tent, his expression undeniably tense, as if he had done something he shouldn't have done.

And, in a way, he had. You both had.

Alberto's smile as he entered the tent made his stomach turn. Did he know what you had done? Did he imagine that his best friend had just kissed the physical therapist?

— Is there a problem, Galle? — Fernando asked, in a calm, almost natural tone — Y/N is finishing looking at my foot.

— The one that's clicking?

— Yeah, that one — you managed to say, your hands cold as ice.

— Injured?

— Not yet — the driver replied — Apparently it could evolve if I’m not careful. I'm going to see Edo to do some tests when I’m back.

— Well, if you say so — Alberto murmured — The mechanics were adjusting the axle and wanted to talk to you. Are you done there?

Exchanging a brief look, Fernando knew the answer almost immediately. You wouldn’t be able to touch him again, especially after that kiss.

— Yes, Y/N is done here — he said, while you nodded — Tell them I'm coming.

Alberto just said 'ok' before leaving the tent, leaving you two alone. Fernando's gaze on you seemed to burn into your skin, trying to read your body expression and, above all, your face.

— Y/N?

— Yeah, Fernando?

— See you later? — he asked, in a low voice.

— Later?

— In your motorhome. I think we can… Continue our conversation there.

An involuntary smile appeared on his lips.

— After dinner? — you questioned, as he got up from the table.

— Don't you want me to prepare my omelet for you? — he smiled, before putting on his flip flops.

— Definitely not — a laugh escaped his lips — It's disgusting.

— It was Edo who recommended it to me.

— Because he is crazy. You both are.

— Maybe we are — Fernando replied, walking towards the entrance of the tent — See you, Y/N.

— See you.

#fernando alonso #nordswrites #fernando alonso fanfic #fernando alonso fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 fic #fernando alonso x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #formula one fic #formula one fanfic #formula one x you #fernando alonso x you

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