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#All is well in the end. Heres more comfort art from me for you for me
melodymunson · 18 hours
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Eddie Munson x fem!goth cheerleader reader part 2 of 2
7.9K words.
This chapter involves the upside-down. Slight angst with a happy ending. You and Eddie have some smutty fun at a Corroded Coffin show backstage and after the prom.
Warnings: nsfw. Vaginal fingering, 69, blowjob, eating pussy, and p in v sex.
read part 1 here
ao3 link for series can be found here
The week passed relatively quickly, with phone calls to Eddie every night and three outdoor lunches together that week. You were even passing notes in class to each other. Once the weekend arrived, you got all dressed up in your best combat boots, a black spandex skirt with fishnets underneath, a Corroded Coffin tee shirt he had gifted you, and spiked black jewelry including chokers, earrings, and bracelets to complete your outfit and the total look. After getting ready and applying black eyeshadow and lipstick, you took one final look in the mirror, grabbed your wallet and small clutch purse, then made your way to your car and drove to the hideout. When you arrived, you noticed some familiar faces including Robin, Steve, and some friends of Eddies were there as well, even though you weren't sure of their names just yet.
The opening band was just finishing up and Corroded Coffin would be on next. It was so exciting to be there. You bought your favorite soda from the bar and went to get in front of the stage to wait for Eddie and his band to start their set. Steve and Robin both nodded and waved at you when they noticed you were there, too, and smiled. You waved back. They felt more comfortable near the sound booth and you were glad to be there front row and center. A decent crowd had already gathered. Soon the lights went down and you, as well as everyone else in the club, clapped as Corroded Coffin took the stage.
The first song was a Metallica cover of Master of Puppets followed by some other covers like the Judas Priest song Painkiller and WASP's Animal. There were some original songs after that. You clapped and screamed louder than practically anyone else and Eddie looked at you, making eye contact with every song. It was so nice to have the chance to live in the moment like this and experience this incredible show. Eddie had so much stage energy and he was such a confident and talented frontman. Song after song you got even more into the show by head-banging and throwing up the devil horns. He thought you looked stunning and knew he didn't want anyone else to have you but him. His guitar solos were epic and the drum solos, and you were having the time of your life. When the show was over, he handed you his guitar pick and invited you backstage.
Once in the backroom, he locked the door for some privacy and gave you a water bottle. It was so refreshing and what you needed. You were both sweaty, but he smelled faintly of cologne. It wasn't too strong, but it was nice. Being backstage was a whole new experience and the walls were covered with posters of various bands from all genres, some record plaques, and some very tasteful art pieces. The couch you were sitting on together was leather and felt so comfortable.
"I loved the show. You were incredible," you enthused, which put a big smile on his face.
"Thanks. You looked so stunning. I loved seeing you front row. It means a lot to me."
"Being backstage is so great but of course I came. I wouldn't miss it for anything else in the world."
He leaned forward, meeting your lips in a kiss, not even minding that just a little of your black lipstick got on his lips. You got onto his lap kissing him even harder and exploring his body with your hands as you touched his soft curly brown locks. He caressed your lower back and hip, then moved his fingers down towards your fishnets. As his hands roamed underneath your skirt, it caused you to moan into his mouth.
"Let me know if I'm going too fast or if anything makes you uncomfortable."
"Touch me more Eddie. Down there. I'm so wet."
"You're so fuckin hot. You know that, right? I've been wanting this for a while now, but I've been holding back."
"Then promise me you won't hold back any longer."
Your lips crashed against his again, tasting him fully and he gasped into your mouth as you ripped your fishnets and moved his hand towards your panties, pulling them down so he could move his fingers inside. He did just that feeling, the heat coming from your naked core.
"Mmm, you feel so good. I love touching you."
"I love touching you too, Ed's," you mumbled against his lips as you moved against his fingers, he moved them inside of you and held onto his hair, tugging slightly, which elicited a very audible whimper from him. The way he touched you and looked at you made your heart beat even faster. As he gazed into your eyes, you felt closer than ever to him. It was almost as if you were one.
As his fingers worked expertly on your clit, your eyes were trained on his, Eddie's gaze not leaving yours as he added another finger getting you even wetter. The feeling of his big rings inside of you was so fuckin good. Touching you made him feel so alive, and he was enjoying every single second with you. You were the girl of his dreams, and he wanted this more than anything else in the world.
He couldn't stop thinking about you since the camping trip and he was feeling such a rush with you at that moment the high he got from pleasing you and being with you was even better than the feelings of euphoria he got once he took the stage with his band. No other woman had come anywhere, even near this close to making him feel like he did when he was with you. No one else compared to you and he wanted to please you at whatever cost.
As his fingers hit your g-spot, you felt like you wouldn't last much longer but wanted to relish this moment with him and make this last.
"Ever since that night and I heard your pretty moans, I haven't been able to get you off my mind," he admitted as he finger-fucked you with perfect precision.
"I heard you that night, too. It was s-so," you uttered, whimpering against his ear as his fingers continued to fuck you in that perfect spot, going even quicker now as he realized how flustered you were. "Hot and sexy," you finished telling him, as his fingers didn't waver with his speed or rhythm. Your moans grew more frequent and even louder as your orgasm was closely approaching.
"Oh yeah? So were you."
He crashed his lips against yours now as he got you even closer to reaching your high, desperately wanting to taste you on his lips and savor it. With several more thrusts, you cried out, "Eddie, I'm gonna c-c-cum."
"Cum all over my fingers. I want to see your face as you do. Look at me," he urged in a commanding tone as he lifted your chin so you were looking him directly in the face.
As you stared deeply into his eyes and his fingers worked you through your high, you made a mess of his fingers and dug your nails into his shoulders, wanting to leave a mark. He guided you through your release and made you feel as if you were the only girl in the world.
"Fuck! Fuck Eddie!" You groaned loudly as you rode out your high, his fingers still working their magic as you were coming down from your release and intense feelings of euphoria. As you finally caught your breath again, he tasted his fingers, loving your taste.
"So fuckin good."
You kissed him again, wanting to taste yourself, and did so greedily. Many more kisses followed this and resting against his shoulder as you listened to his heartbeat. What they said about guitar players having the best hands was true and he gave you the most intense orgasm of your life. With him, you felt invincible, and he was amazing in every way.
A little later, he walked you to your car and paused for a moment, lingering there, before he said his goodbyes.
"Will you be my girlfriend?"
"Yes, of course." I want to so much."
You gave him another kiss and a hug, then parted ways, promising to call him soon. The town outcast was finally happy- really and truly. He felt like he was on top of the world because he had you. Everything about you made him happy. Dating him would probably tarnish your reputation, but you could not care less, and going public as a couple was something you wanted when the time was right.
You were on a high all weekend from the concert and it was just so amazing to finally see your man play live and be there to experience what was pretty much the best concert of your life so far. With Eddie, you felt invincible and nothing could stop you from smiling or feeling like you were on top of the world. When Eddie invited you to play Dungeons and Dragons with him and his friends you were so happy and gratefully accepted his offer. Meeting Dustin, Garrett, and Eddie's other friends went well, and the game was even more fun than you expected it to be. The next few weeks passed by so quickly but it was nice to spend so much time with him. At school, you would hold hands with him walking down the hall in between classes. Some people would stare but you ignored them all. As far as you were concerned once you graduated you would never see any of them again. People could be so cruel. The only thing that kept you on the cheerleading squad was being able to have a full-time scholarship to the university of your choosing. You had science and math together and even helped tutor him when he needed it. This time he was determined to finally pass and graduate. Most nights you would be on the phone with him talking about anything and everything and listening to music together.
The Friday before spring break you had to cheer at the big homecoming game and Eddie and his friends played DND. You wanted so badly to join them but you couldn't ditch a game. That weekend you had a road trip planned with your cousin and best friend which started early on Saturday. Once the game was over and you left the school's campus you saw him again- one last time before your trip but parted ways promising him you would get home safe. Little did you know that after that night things would change. You finished packing when you got home and waited for him to call which he promised he would around 11. Well, 11 came and went with still no call from him. It was weird. Maybe he had gotten stoned and passed out or got caught up with a customer. Midnight passed and you called him with no answer. Not being able to have a good night phone call with him hurt a little but honestly, it was probably nothing you tried to convince yourself. There was still a nagging feeling of dread that washed over you. Despite trying to tell yourself it was nothing, you decided to go to bed but in the morning you would stop by his place before your trip to say goodbye to him. Morning came eventually and even though you hadn't slept that well you got up looking forward to seeing him. Before you picked up your best friend, you drove over to his place, and to your horror, you saw his trailer was surrounded by caution tape and police were investigating the scene of a crime. Getting out of your car in a hurry you walked up to Eddie's uncle and asked him what happened. Eddie was missing and a person of interest in the death of Chrissy Cunningham. Your mouth opened in shock and you did your best to collect yourself and remain composed as you walked away even though your legs felt like jelly. When you made it to the safety of your car you nearly had a panic attack wondering what had gone down the night before. He hadn't mentioned a drug deal with Chrissy and now he was missing and she was dead. Left alone completely baffled and shocked you wondered what to do next. Soon you pealed out of there thinking of where Eddie could be but decided to go stop by Dustin's place to talk to him first as you collected your thoughts and tried your best to not completely freak out. Your trip was going to have to be postponed.
That afternoon you went over to Dustin's and he opened the door almost immediately with a look of concern on his face.
"Do you have any idea where Eddie is?" You asked your eyes completely red by now from the crying you did earlier.
Dustin looked very worried and was feeling a mixture of regret and shock at the events that had just unfolded on the news.
"It was Eddie they were talking about on the news. They didn't mention his name but it was him. They found Chrissy's body."
"I know I stopped by his place earlier and Wayne told me. Where would he be though?"
"He mentioned a guy named Reefer Rick before. I don't know where he lives though."
"Well, let's go find out."
You gestured for him to follow you to your car and drove to Family Video and soon were greeted by Robin and Steve.
"Hey, are you okay? Seriously you are shaking," Robin said as she pulled you in for a hug. You didn't know her very well yet but her embrace was comforting.
"I'll be okay once we find Eddie. Look for Rick's in your database of video rentals. He was a regular client of his."
"Of course, we can find that out for you," Steve added with a weak smile.
Robin and Steve wasted no time looking up Rick in the store's database inventory. There were multiple guys named Rick of course but once you found the list of stoner rentals you knew you had found the right guy. Steve wrote down the address and everyone made their way out the door and locked up the store.
"I hope he's here. I need to see him. We need to find out what the hell happened," you told Dustin as you clenched the steering wheel with a tight grip making your knuckles turn white.
"He didn't do this. On the news, they mentioned the body was mangled and it wasn't possible an actual person did this."
"I don't think he murdered her either. I haven't known him that long but he wouldn't do what they were describing. It has to be supernatural."
Soon you made it to Rick's and rang the bell. After some knocking and more rings, no one answered and you all made your way to the small shed in the back. Steve grabbed a paddle and started to poke the tarps surrounding the boats. Everyone called out Eddie's name and Eddie burst out of the tarp against the far wall and cornered Steve who was invading his personal space.
"I don't want to have a problem with you Harrison."
"Eddie! No! It's me, Dustin, your friend. This is Robin from the band and Steve who is a good guy. Eddie, don't do this," Dustin pleaded with him. Eddie loosened his grip on Steve once he noticed you were there with tears practically forming in your eyes. He made his way towards you and embraced you in a big hug. You held him trying your best to hold back your tears of relief.
"I didn't do it. It was Vecna. It was his curse. We were just making a quick deal I swear. I went to go looking for something stronger like she wanted. When I saw her body I ran. It's because I always run. I never face my problems and I just end up ignoring them until they get worse."
You tried your best to comfort him by running your fingers through his curly locks of hair and hushing him wanting to calm him down because he was getting so worked up. He couldn't stay here forever but for now, that's what needed to be done. It wasn't safe for him anywhere else at the moment and you planned on visiting him when you could.
"Your uncle misses you, Eddie. I missed you. I need you. We will figure this out babe I promise," you told him sincerely as you gave his arm a reassuring squeeze. He mustered the best smile he possibly could as you tried your best to comfort him and offer him some sort of relief.
"I know. I'm sorry I didn't contact you and that I just ran off and hid. That's what I do best. Jason can't find me or Sam or any of the others."
"They won't. We will do our best to make sure that doesn't happen. We have snacks and food for you. I just don't think it's safe right now for you to leave or wander off," you told him as he nodded his head in understanding.
"We will come back when we need to bring you food and company of course and we will communicate through these walkie-talkies," Dustin told him as he handed him the bag of food as well as one of the walkies.
He took it gratefully from Dustin and sat down. He felt defeated and knew that when he was caught and knew he probably would be soon. Having you around made this hiding out at least a bit bearable. The gang hung around for some time longer exchanging small talk and Dustin hugged Eddie before parting ways. You decided to stay for a while though.
"Look Eddie I know that you are upset and things are so fucked up right now. I'm here for you I just wanted you to know."
"Thanks, baby. I need you. I am glad you are on my side at least."
You held each other and talked for a while with some moments of silence. It felt so right to be there in his arms. You drifted off and eventually, it was morning again.
"I should go. I don't want to go but I need to," you told him forlornly.
"It's fine. I'm glad you came at all. I don't want to put you in any danger trust me it's the last thing I want."
You kissed and hugged him goodbye then walked back home.
Days passed and you visited Eddie every chance you got. The gang went to visit Henry Creel's former home and you stayed with Eddie. Jason and his minions including much to your dismay your ex, Sam, showed up looking for him at Rick's. Once they found his hiding spot after some time, Eddie made you promise to stay hidden in the boat house. As he lured them away, he got in a boat and rowed out as far as he could before they followed his trail. You watched from the windows seeing Eddie being chased after by Patrick and Jason. They swam quickly after him but things went wrong. Patrick was levitating and to your horror, he became mangled and practically ripped apart. It had to be the curse of Vecna. Chrissy was found by Eddie in a very similar manner. It was appalling to see and you were horrified. Next thing you knew Eddie was holding you in his arms. You comforted each other and went to Skull Rock to spend the night. Eventually, the others joined you both there.
After some talking, everyone decided that it was finally time to go to the other side. Even though Max, Lucas, and Dustin tagged along, you left them behind at the docks as you got onto the boat with Eddie, Nancy, Steve, and Robin. It was nightfall and once you had gotten to the middle of the lake, Steve went in first then Robin and Nancy. Finally, you and Eddie agreed to go together and once you reached the other side even more darkness enveloped all of you. No longer were the stars or moon in the sky it was instead replaced by a creepy and sinister lair. The gang felt more despair with each passing minute. The deeper you walked into the upside-down forest, the more tendrils of vines you found. Carefully avoiding them with each step, you and the rest safely crossed the precipice that led to the Demobats. Eddie vowed to keep you safe no matter what. With your oars in tow, you slowly approached the center of the Demobat's lair and waited as you listened to the thunder rumbling in the distance and the lightning that struck the area. The red flashing lights mixed with the thunder and screeching of the oncoming monsters, were enough to make you want to run but you stood your ground firmly. The bats grew closer and even closer but Steve and Eddie had your back. They took them down with all they had standing their ground and hitting them with all of their might. More and more came however and much to your dismay you felt the impending sense of doom as they were taken only to be replaced by even bigger ones. Both Eddie and especially Steve suffered bruising and damage in the process but they were defeated- for now.
Once you rode the bikes through the upside down to the point of almost escaping this other world and into Eddie's trailer, you heard Dustin speaking. He couldn't hear any of you at first. Eddie suggested SOS communication and it worked. Lucas and Max brought Eddie's mattress over the portal entrance and you climbed up right after Robin followed by Eddie. Nancy attempted to cross next but she was overtaken by Vecna. Steve yelled at her to wake up but it was of no use for a while until finally she awoke again and came out of her trance. When everyone was safe on the other side, at last, you asked Nancy what happened. She went into the story of Henry Creel and how she saw his early life up until he became Vacna when he was cast out from Hawkins Lab after a deadly massacre of its young patients. All the elements of her story were horror-filled and you couldn't imagine being stuck like her inside the upside and having your mind controlled by the evilest villain of them all.
The battle with Vecna
Being back inside upside down was frightening, to say the least, because if you lost then it would all be over, and coming to terms with uncertain death was difficult to grasp. Even though Eddie vowed to protect you at all costs you feared something would go wrong. After parting ways with Max, Lucas, Steve, Nancy, and Robin, you made your journey with Dustin and Eddie to the version of his place inside upside down. His guitar was there intact and he got it ready to play the most metal song in the history of the world live. He dedicated the song to Chrissy and started right away with the sickest guitar riffs and the best solo ever. Soon the bats were summoned and you heard them from afar. With your weapons and shields intact you led the bats straight toward the area and quickly made it away from the demo bats for temporary relief and shelter. Dustin went back over to the other side first followed by you. Much to your dismay, Eddie stayed behind and despite Dustin's cries and your begging for him to stay, he left to fight off the bats alone. Right away you and Dustin grabbed a chair to make it back over the threshold to rescue Eddie. The bats came for Eddie at full force only minutes later and as you and Dustin made your way back to Eddie, the demo bats came at him in full force. As he shielded them off the best he could with his spear, you lit a torch and used it to kill off as many as you could as Dustin used his dagger to spear them. They were after Eddie and he put up the best fight he could as they attacked him. With every swing, he fought back harder and as all three of you used your shields, they began to drop dead one at a time. No one would leave that night without injury and even though he suffered the most of all with his cuts, bruises, abrasions, and injuries, you were hurt and in pain. Despite getting hurt himself, Dustin remained strong and helped you fight off the rest of them as Eddie collapsed. Meanwhile, Nancy and Steve faced Vecna with Robin lighting the torch and throwing it at him. Eleven's powers and Max's distracting Vecna combined with the burning fiery flame, and the monster crumbled into ashes and the remaining demo bats all collapsed dead. Eddie's badly injured body lay there and tears rolled down your cheeks as well as Dustin's as you comforted him. He barely had a pulse but he was holding on as you told him you were there for him and nursed the bad wounds on his arms and leg with a tourniquet made from the sleeves of your shirt. An earthquake began and you held on tight to him as Dustin stayed close to you both. The vibrations and ground moving were strong but all of you persevered. Even though he was barely conscious he was able to get up with the help of you and Dustin. It was decided that it would be best to wait a while before trying to get Eddie back to the other side. Once inside his trailer, you lay there for a while trying to use whatever you could find in the trailer to revive him and nurse his wounds as well as your own and Dustin's. Some of Eddie's wounds required cauterization and you knew basic first aid and medical care so you administered the treatment. Though in some pain, he was able to bite down hard on leather and make it through the pain. Sometime later Dustin crossed the threshold and Eddie was brought over next you helped him up and he landed safely on the other side. He was still too weak to speak but you could tell he was grateful for you and Dustin helping to save his life. Eventually, you all arrived back at the safety of Hawkins. Soon you heard on the news Jason and Sam after their encounter with Lucas over Max levitating, perished in the earthquake. Relief flooded over you knowing they were gone.
-Aftermath
The hospital wasn't a safe place for Eddie and it was tragic to see him so hurt by the Demobats. He had to keep a low profile until he was no longer on the FBI's most wanted list. Vecna seemed to be defeated. You had to get him to safety so once Steve and Dustin brought him back from Vecna's lair, you called your cousin who was majoring in nursing and she promised to help out. Soon Eddie was taken to her place and had a grueling but successful recovery. Max got better too and regained her sight and vision. When you first found Eddie he was bloody, bruised, and very sore. A few months later he was doing so much better. Sometime later thanks to the testimonies from Steve, Dustin, Max, and Uncle Wayne they had given to the FBI and courts, he was not the FBI's most wanted any longer and they weren't seeking arrest at the moment. They had determined there wasn't enough proof for now but he was still a person of interest. There were also no more murders in Hawkins at least not ones gruesome or anything like what had happened to Chrissy and the others. You missed Chrissy every day and she was a friend of yours. You believed in Eddie from the start and never doubted him. Life without her was very different but with Eddie and your friends, you knew you'd make it through despite all odds.
You and Eddie had the perfect idea for how to dress for the prom with your friends a night before the real school prom. Since Eddie couldn't show up at the school and go with everything he had been going through, you decided it would be best along with your friends that you could have your prom at Steve's place. The party was to be exclusive and have Eddie's Hellfire club friends, Nancy, Robin, and Robin's date and crush Vickie, and Steve. Your relationship was heavy metal so why not represent that with your outfits? The night of prom you dressed up in a Guns N Roses tee that had gemstones on it but it was a flared tank top paired with your best pair of black platform boots, black tights, and a leather skirt. Eddie picked you up in his van and took you to Steve's place. His parents were never home so it was the best place to have it. When you saw him at your door, he was wearing an Ozzy Osbourne shirt and a nice pair of black pants. Of course, he told you how beautiful you looked as he put your corsage on your wrist. The black rose corsage he got you matched your outfit. As usual, he thought you looked stunning. No other girl compared to you and in his eyes, you were the most beautiful woman ever.
Everyone was having a great time and it was so friendly and welcoming. The real prom was something that didn't matter to you anymore because anywhere Eddie wasn't accepted you didn't want to be there. It would suck enough to not have him at graduation with you but it was going to be an amazing night. There were great snacks, plenty to drink, and even celebratory champagne. Defeating Vecna and Eddie's recovery took so much out of everyone and celebrating was much needed. Plenty of heavy metal was played and you stayed by Eddie's side all night with some dancing and kissing. You decided to leave early and Eddie was in agreement with you as you both said goodbye to your friends then headed out to his van and blared some Dio as you rode back to your place. You had the best night ahead planned for you and Eddie.
Post-prom
It had been a long journey with Eddie and now that you were alone with him at your house and in your bedroom, you had rose petals scattered all over your room and petals forming a big heart on your bed. It was so romantic to be there with him. You lit candles to set the mood and put in a cassette of Black Sabbath to play softly in the background. There was no question about it you loved Eddie completely and truly and no one and nothing could take those feelings away from you. As you removed your dress in front of him and bared yourself completely to him, he watched your every move with a glint in his eyes. He was very much enjoying the sight of you becoming naked right in front of him. As you undressed he removed his shirt and belt. Nearby your cheerleading uniform was just lying there which gave you an idea. You put it on for him. First the very short skirt and then the top. With curiosity-filled eyes, Eddie watched as you got dressed.
"Wow, that looks so hot on you. I always thought you looked sexy in that uniform but with no panties or bra. That's the hottest thing that I've ever seen in my entire life."
You blushed upon hearing him say this and went over to the bed getting on top of him and kissing him. Softly at first and then with passion. He felt so good and you loved these intimate moments you shared with him. His hands moved towards your waist and then over your ass and squeezed which elicited some giggles from you.
"Reach lower, Eddie," you instructed him playfully and he moved his hands to your bare ass and aching, needy pussy. He groaned in contentment as his hands moved over your body exploring it. You felt like the luckiest girl alive and you wanted to give it all to him tonight. It was the most perfect time to make love to him and to show him just how much you cared about him and truly loved him.
"I want to suck your cock," you seductively whispered as you began to kiss his neck and collarbone, then lower peppering kisses on his chest and stomach. There were still light bruises on his skin and you kissed them to show you loved him despite his injuries. Everything about him and his body was beautiful to you.
"Fuck. I needed that."
You begin to move his pants down unzipping them and removing them completely as well as his boxers. As his erection sprung free, you admired his length and girth with your mouth agape wanting more than anything to finally taste him.
"So big Eddie. So big for me."
"Let me taste you though."
You maneuvered yourself so that your pussy was on his face already glistening with precum. As you worked his cock in your hands, running your fingers over his shaft, he got even bigger for you and your mouth was salivating now in anticipation of taking him inside of your mouth. As you licked a thin stripe over his cockhead and shaft, you cradled his balls and he began to lick your clit, moving his tongue over your slit and parting your folds with his fingers. Little did you know he had wanted to taste you and do this for such a long time. There was so much self-control he had practiced in anticipation for this very moment. The sounds of licking and other wet, lewd noises could be heard as you worked his cock in your mouth and he sucked on your clit and fingered your wetness.
The way Eddie made you feel was incredible and you were so wet because of him. His cock hardened with your touch as you gathered his precum with your fingers and cupped his balls squeezing them gently.
"You taste so fuckin' good, Y/N," he groaned as you licked and sucked on his cock and began to take him even deeper inside your mouth.
It was more than lust at this point- so much more. Having him there with you like this and showing just how much you needed him, and wanted him was beyond just the physical aspects of it. He was so tender and passionate and you did your best to please him as best as you knew how. Soon you came close to taking him fully inside of your mouth. As his tongue tangled in your wet folds he fingered you and groaned. What he craved were the wet sounds your pussy was making as your juices coated his fingers and he loved to hear your beautiful moans. It wasn't much longer before he felt a bit close to his release but he wouldn't let that happen yet- not until he was inside of you.
"Baby stop. Please. Can't take it any longer. I need to be inside of you," he whined as you stroked his shaft now replacing your tongue with your hand.
"I want to feel you inside me too."
"I didn't bring any condoms. Fuck," he growled lowly as he pressed his hands to his forehead in frustration.
"Eddie, please don't ruin the moment. It's fine. I just started going on birth control and I'm clean. I know you are too. I always used protection in the past," you assured him.
"Really? I've always used protection before too. Well, it was only other one person but.." You changed your position so you were facing him and met his lips in a kiss cutting him off instantly.
"Just make love to me already, Eddie."
He greedily pulled you in for more sloppy kisses as you straddled his leg. You pulled away just to remove your shirt and toss aside your skirt as well before positioning yourself onto his thick cock. As you moved down fully on him, he held onto your waist and began to rut his hips up pushing into your slick heat. It felt so fuckin' good to be as one with you like this. Sealing his lips in another kiss you began to move slowly on his cock and ran your hands through his beautiful locks of hair as he firmly moved you on his cock and bucked up inside of you.
"I love your body. I love this so much," you mewled against his lips as his deep thrusts made you feel so fuckin' good and you craved him more than ever.
"I love it all. I love everything about you, my beautiful girl," he solemnly swore as he looked deeply into your eyes.
Your pretty moans turned him on as your body moved with his and listening to his groans that were just for you was one of the hottest things ever. The way he made you feel and vice-versa was comparable to no other and at that moment more than ever you wished you had waited to lose your virginity to him. Nothing could change that now but this time it felt so important and special and no matter what happened next with him you knew you would cherish this time with him forever. The way he made you feel and how tender, loving, and caring he was with you as you touched each other and he caressed your face- made you feel like you were truly the most beautiful girl. No doubt about it he was the one for you. There was so much affection between the two of you and he gave you so many kisses. It was so passionate and it felt like true love.
The way he moved inside of you was tender and just the perfect pace. He fit inside of you so perfectly and he was the best lover you could ever ask for. You loved him so much and hearing his gasps and groans was the biggest turn-on and only caused you to moan louder for him.
"Baby, I'm getting so close are you?" He asked sincerely as he looked up into your beautiful eyes with his gorgeous brown ones.
"Yes. So close," you groaned as you kept your pace steady on top of him and held onto his shoulders as your bodies moved together in sync as one.
Eddie felt like you were the most amazing girl he had ever met and was so mesmerized by your beauty and your stunning features but most of all he thought you had a good heart and he was attracted to your personality best of all and loved it more than anything else about you. You made him feel so alive and he felt like he belonged with you. You would never give up on him and couldn't imagine being with anyone else or seeing him with anyone else. He felt the same way.
As his hands moved from your waist to your breasts he tenderly cupped them and pinched your nipples which caused you to cry out his name and this elicited a huge smirk from him.
"Eddie I'm gonna cum," you protested as he hit your g-spot.
"Me too. Where do you want my cum?"
"Inside me," you moaned as he circled your clit with his fingers wanting to have you reach your orgasm first. You were practically thrown over the edge of ecstasy as he did this to you and only moments later you were cumming for him and crying out his name once again but even louder this time. Almost right after he came inside of you filling you up and grunting as he spilled his seed so deep. Slowly you got off him and laid down by his side once you had come down from your high and cleaned yourself up. Minutes passed and you held onto each other enjoying his company. Soon after that, the silence was broken by your confession.
"I love you, Eddie."
"I love you too Y/N. So much."
Graduation
You stood in your cap and gown as you faced the mirror. It was finally going to happen. You were going to move on away from high school but now you had the love of your life. Eddie was still shunned by the community, and of course, needed to be in an undisclosed location but you were so proud of him because of what he did to destroy Vecna. Most importantly you loved how he changed your life and became your best friend and boyfriend in the process. The valedictorian was Robin and you were so proud of her. After she gave her speech everyone stood and cheered her on. The graduates were ready and waited patiently for the diplomas to be handed out and as you waited for your name to be called you thought about the future and how no matter what you wanted Eddie to be a part of it. The names were called and once you were up at the podium you accepted your diploma with a smile on your face as you thought about Eddie and being with him again. Afterward, you wasted no time in going to your car and driving to see him. As much as you wanted to watch your other friends accept their diplomas you wanted alone time with your man most of all. Soon he would be moving to a new place with Wayne in Colorado near the mountains with some distant relatives and family to seek refuge away from this town that hated him and any further police scrutiny. College was so far away from him on the east coast but you knew your relationship would make it through. The only reason you would go to Georgetown was because of your scholarship and the good academic program. The next two months you spent all your time with Eddie and the summer passed quickly. Every day felt like a gift with him and you cherished it completely.
1 month later:
The search for the real killer was given up, once the gang including Eleven, Max, Robin, Steve, you, Eddie, Dustin, Nancy, Will, Mike, and Lucas went to the upside down again to defeat Vecna once and for all. Once Nancy and Eleven started having visions again everyone came together to return to the upside down. With more powerful weapons and ammunition this time, you manipulated him and brought him down forever. Even better Chrissy, Patrick, and the others were freed from the confines of the curse of Vecna and came back to life.
Epilogue- Christmas break
Finally, your first semester of college was over and you were eager to see Eddie in Colorado from DC and spend the holidays together. It was rough, especially at first being away so far from him as he stayed behind and recorded with his band then toured the country. While you were away at college Eddie's job and passion was designing guitars. He had also been working diligently on getting his GED and he finally did. When he called with the news you were ecstatic for him. You were so proud of Eddie and only wanted the very best for him and he felt the same way. While you were in DC he was watching Ozzy for you and you couldn't wait to be reunited with them both. Once you landed at the airport he greeted you with a flower bouquet and a big hug and kiss. It was now the time to show him the fresh tattoo you had recently gotten done. The tattoo in question was two black hearts and a flame with Eddie's name in one heart and your name in the other.
"I missed you so much, babe. I'm just so glad you are here with me now," he told you sincerely with excitement.
He got down on one knee and opened up a small box containing two rings with black hearts and some crystals surrounding the two hearts.
"They are promise rings. One for each of us. I love you Y/N."
You accepted the ring putting it on your ring finger and admiring the stones and their beauty in the light. He put on the other ring admiring it as he held it up next to yours.
"I love it and I love you too. I have a surprise. A tattoo. My first one." You lifted your shoulder to reveal the tattoo to him and he gasped in pleasant surprise as he saw it.
"I love it. It's amazing!" No one had ever gotten a tattoo for him before and he loved the surprise. Enveloping him in a hug, you held him tightly never wanting to let go of him. Pulling him in for another kiss your lips melted against his with a fiery passion. You never wanted this feeling to end.
"Eddie I'm transferring to Colorado after next semester and I want you to move in with me." You had planned on getting a nice apartment or condo and with your part-time job and internship, you were making good money.
"Yes. A million times yes. I want that more than anything."
He kissed and hugged you again then placed his arm around your shoulder as he walked with you out of the airport carrying your bags for you in his other hand.
"I can't imagine not being with you and apart any longer. Just 4 more months of this after the winter break," you happily mused as you walked with him to his van.
"When my new band finally tours I want you to come with us if you can. Arent there correspondence courses where you can mail your work in?"
"You are so smart. Yes, there is. I can do that. Long-distance learning. I'd like that a lot."
Once in his van, he started the engine letting it warm up. A light sprinkle of snow was already forming on the ground and snowflakes were gathering on his windshield. It was so nice to be in a place like Colorado. When you got back to Eddie's new place which was an apartment Steve and Robin jumped out yelling surprise as you entered his front door.
"A surprise party for me? This is so awesome! Thanks, baby!" You gave him a quick kiss before going to greet them all.
Eddie stayed watching from a slight distance feeling happy that you were so happy. He had baked a cake, especially for you, and your favorite movies were rented on VHS along with so much food. Being there was all you needed and you were feeling so content with life at that moment. A year from now you weren't sure what your life would be like but you just hoped that Eddie would still be a part of it. He had no intention of letting you go and he would be there for the long haul. The party was amazing of course and the whole break. Who knows maybe a year from now or 2 years even 5 you would be Mrs. Munson. For now, you were living life with the best friends a girl could ever ask for and the man of your dreams- former freak/Banished now the love of your life Eddie Munson.
tag list: @jadeylovesmarvelxo @ali-r3n @mrprettywhenhecries @koskeepsake @munson-mjstan @seatnights @keikoraven @iliketoreadandcry @eddies-bunny @loopylupinmoons @unholycheesesnack @emsgoodthinkin @corrodedcorpses @thescoopstroopers @aleisashortcake @zestychili @hellv1ra @races-erster @angelicbabydolll @wendyxox @st4rr-girrl @therandommindofcorinne @a-wild-kaylin-appears @littlered0000 @them-cute-boys @haceleyes @leins-stuff @mik-bxrnes @fallenxcherub @yourdailymemedelivery @eddxemxnson @angelscientia-caelum @randomreader1999 @crazycat-ladys-blog @ruefulposts @ofhawkinsandvecna @spenciesprincess
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alexa-nowak · 19 hours
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One of my old texts from YouTube arguments about Astarion endings
I am not that invested in this discourse nowadays because I lost hope to change anyone's opinion and also, I am simply tired from dealing with toxic bs that I am getting as a response to some of my old comments on YT to this day. My favourites are those who will reply to my every comment to say how delulu I am and I probably just dreaming about being in a toxic relationships myself, while being unable to understand that people have their own ways to heal through art and that throwing poison on people like that is not helpful at all.
I will leave it there and funny enough, I am not even so much of AA fan, I just don't like people being ignorant and rude.
And I like writing essays, so here it is.
So, what this dark romance fantasy is about for me personally,(even though i prefer spawn romance, i absolutely understand the appeal of asc Astarion because honestly, i was all about this kind of romance during my childhood and teenage years, hardocore the Phantom of the Opera girl is here, inside your head 💀), and why it's also healing route for some players,and no, it's not about kinky vampiric banging.
1)A lot of people feel extremely worthless and insecure, lonely, like no one really cares for them at all. It's a very deep wound that hurts and it's difficult to overcome even in perfectly loving, healthy and supportive relationship with a good partner,and even with therapy. So fantasy about a vampire, being obsessed with you so much that he is ready to do absolutely anything just to be with you for forever is really comforting. Also,you don't have to think too much about your imperfections, because for him you like a center of his vampire heart.
Besides, you sympathise with him - it's like a selfcomfort mirror, i love this monster despite everything, so in a way, i accept myself despite any flaws i see in me.
2) Safety. When the world around you feel like a wilderness, full of monsters, it feels like only the most terrifying loving monster can protect you from it. He is powerful and protective, and i am so precious to him, that he will set the world on fire just so i would be safe.
3) Responsibility. As you may see, this kind of relationship have daddy issues vibes and codependency, and in real life, you can't just fully submit safely to anyone, I don't think i have to explain why it's a dangerous idea to seek this kind of relationships in real life. You have to stay a grown up independent person and seek safety for yourself without expecting someone to come and heal all your wounds. But this is fantasy, so finally you can use this as a comfort fantasy with no fear about being taking advantage of, without shame to be called childish and etc.
4) Independence. Spawn ending is very terrifying for anyone who has issues with feeling safe and independent, because some of us prefer violent power fantasies over "we have each other and that's all that matters", second of all, this ending also has some shady co-dependency undertone to it that can be triggering for some people. I love Spawn Astarion a little bit more more than Asc and yet my heart stayed absolutely broken after running away from the sun scene, and i hate that he is so dependent on Tav. Larian owes me some emotional refund after this.
5)SA trauma: it wasn't even seen as a possibility for healing way by writer, but it is for some.Asc Astarion feels like he is the most powerful creature in the world,and he is fully controlling everything that happens between him and Tav,so finally, it's a kind of situation where there is no chance of him being abused again. It's one of the reasons why some people become Doms in BDSM dynamic relationships: finally, full control of the process and a partner, who trusts then enough to fully submit, trust issues is also big deal in Astarion story of healing. I find idea that that only Subs can enjoy Asc Astarion a little bit naive. Because,well, some news for you: Doms like it too because they understand why he is so eager to be a top :D
Unrealistic, not the healthiest way? Probably! But this man and this love is not real anyway.
Yes, i think many of us, especially folks who went through therapy and a lot of self reflecting are already aware that it's basically romanticized version of narcissistic obsession and in real life this is creepy, but it's not real, it's a fantasy. People use BDSM to heal, romance books and all other forms of art to deal with their inner demons and it's absolutely normal. Even if someone is blind to see what is wrong with Asc Astarion, I highly doubt that toxic bucket of shame and aggression are able to help see anyone problematic side of things. Do you know who is usually up to romanticize toxic dynamic in romance? Victims of abuse. In real life, if you just scream and yell at any poor girl/boy/whatever about how stupid they are for believing that their abusive partner really loves them, people will either break down and cry or tell you to f#ck off and they will have every right to do so, but they won't see what's wrong with their partner,in whom quite often victims of abuse see their only source of love and safety in life.
Hells, I am so sick and tired from this "white cloak knight saviour from cycle of abuse" toxic flood in this fandom. If you really want to educate people - do it with extreme care and compassion. Real life healing is not working like it's with Astarion in the game,few right dialogs and boom, dude is on the right path.
It takes enormous amount of patience and love, be kind to one another, and stay safe, darlings. Being toxic on Asc fans you are not helping anyone, you just hitting your superiority complex button in your ass.
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hajihiko · 8 months
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blughxreader · 4 months
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platonic yandere batfam thoughts...
how you end up integrating into the family.
I think we often forget how insidious the long-term effects of kidnapping are. Your whole world narrows and you have nothing fulfilling outside of them.
Realistically, how many weeks straight can you do nothing but look at your phone/watch TV? I know we do this every day, but we have school/work/friends/family to provide actual fulfillment and joy. But when you take that away? And have to decide whether you should scroll through monitored social media or talk to your captors?
Especially because the TV doesn't distract from the cold, hard gaze of the surveillance cameras in your room.
Even if you read and craft and cook, it's so difficult to keep your mental health in-tact without having a positive interaction with another human being.
It would start small.
It's morning and Cass smiles at you from across the breakfast table. Not wanting to be rude, you smile tightly back.
Jason wordlessly slides you a book. You take it.
After a few months, you feel slightly more comfortable about taking up space in the manor. Alfred is out of town for the weekend, so you make a sandwich with Tim.
Bruce talks to you about the new scientific breakthrough at Wayne Enterprises and keeps you relatively up-to-date on major world events. You begrudgingly learn more interesting facts than public school has ever taught you.
Soon, you've watched everything good on Netflix. You exhausted your tolerance for social media. You've given yourself headaches reading so much. You've hit an art/writers block like never before because your input has run dry.
With no other source of entertainment, you become more attentive to the Bats.
Of course, you've always watched them out of fear. But as months tick by and you've learned their hearts (and delusions), it's obvious that they would never hurt you. Furthermore, operating within their expectations is easy enough as long as you never challenge them, so the constant danger-sense slowly turns off.
However, because you don't have any outside noise to occupy your mind, drama in the house becomes almost life-and-death to you.
Peace is so fragile, and it's all you have.
Damian and Bruce return from patrol in a rage one night. Damian's furious echoes bouncing upstairs, followed by Bruce's low, indistinguishable scorn.
Fuck, you think. Now your and Bruce's talks are going to be stilted and uncomfortable. Now Damian is going to sulk in your room for hours, unwilling to talk about what happened yet wanting some kind of reassurance.
You can't keep them from fighting, but you want to protect your peace.
When you first arrived in this dreadful manor, you never would have imagined you'd offer them kind words and affection. However it's the only thing you can do now.
There's conflict. The house is tense--your world is tense.
Should you call Dick? He has a day job again, so he can't come over until tomorrow night. It's up to you to ease the tension.
So you do, slowly, with homemade food and Bruce's favorite coffee blend and Damian's favorite hot chocolate. You sit with them individually, shoulder to shoulder (much closer than you would normally sit), and pretend everything is alright. They're surprised but very quick to snap back into a good mood.
The house is suddenly back in order and you did it all by yourself.
And with these vigilantes, conflict is ripe. There's always people coming and going, fighting and playing, and you're unwillingly the most in-tune with the well-being of everyone's relationships.
You protect your peace. You protect the house.
this shit makes me gnaw at my enclosure. if you're fem, it's worse because ✨ stereotypical woman archetype ✨ anyway this has been on my mind because i've been taking care of my baby chicks and cooking dinner most nights, so i'm like 💁‍♀️ i could be a captive house wife click here for my yandere batfam masterlist
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ma1dita · 23 days
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BABEEE happy birthday!! (i'm so terribly late i'm so sorry) congrats on 23💖
🐥 so i'm having thoughts right now about luke x reader and physical affection. like maybe one of them being touch starved and always craving the other person's touch and the other person noticing it and doing it more? maybe from platonic (i will go down with best friends to lovers) to romantic, i'm just on this brainrot tonight
🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥
luke castellan x reader
a/n: back from the klerb but here with a classic 4am post 🥂 but the hangxiety wont let me rest until this is out! ill edit this in the morning... or not 😗
wc: 1.1k
It’s hard to miss what you’ve never had.
Luke Castellan was never a touchy guy. Sure, he’ll hold a new camper’s hand during welcome tours (especially the little ones who can barely keep up with his long legs; if they’re lucky they get a piggy back ride), and he won’t shy away from a clap on the back when his strategies for capture the flag bring his team to victory (they always do, mind you), and when he feels like it, he’ll even shove Annabeth playfully to show her he adores her (but she packs a punch now that she’s older).
It never really goes past that, and he’s never had to think too hard about it—physical touch.
He’s the one who takes care of others—a part of his nature like it is for Hermes’ cabin to take in unclaimed demigods. But something changed in the months that he’s gotten closer to you. At first, he’d bite his tongue at the way you’re so open to patting his cheek when he does something funny (which he doesn’t try to make a show of, but now…), how you choose to sit so close to him during bonfires that your knees touch (the Apollo kids could be singing about the heavens falling down on them for all he cares but he zeroes in on every word that leaves your lips), and the way you’d lock your fingers with him for a pinky promise after every little thing ‘to make sure it’s real’ (Luke didn’t understand the merit of a pinky promise over whether you could have his dessert for the next week if you took over arts and crafts with the kiddie campers for him; truthfully he’d give it to you anyway). It was unusual for him to have someone comfort him, to show care without a true reason. But he didn’t realize how much more it bothered him now that you wouldn’t even look him in the eye.
Silena and some of the other Aphrodite children had asked you the very defining question of, “Do you like Luke Castellan?” and having never thought of it that way, or being able to put your feelings for him in words instead of fingers in his belt loops or in the muss of his curls—that shit was terrifying!
You spent all Saturday afternoon at the docks with them belly down under the glare of the sun’s rays as they explained to you what the five love languages are. By the end of it, sunburn wasn’t the only reason you felt hot.
“Your love language is physical touch,” one of Silena’s older half-siblings—Connelly, says like he’s explaining that the sky is blue, “And Luke’s not that type of guy! Think he’s more acts of service…”
“Ooh, or words of affirmation….” another one of them muses, but the sound of your heartbeat tunes it all out. Well shit, have you been sending him the wrong signals? Or are there even any signals you want to send him? 
Nevertheless, in the matters of love or even the tiniest whisper of it—maybe there’s no one else you can trust with this stuff besides Cabin 10.
Wrong.
Absolutely wrong. Whatever the hell you’ve been convinced or whatever’s changed since last weekend—Luke just knows he hates it, and he’s angry. He’s angry at how you gasp in surprise every time you brush shoulders during archery practice when you used to let him fix your form, he’s angry at how you’ll squeeze campers’ shoulders to tell them they’re doing a good job carrying the strawberry crates—and all he gets is a mumbled ‘Thanks, Castellan’ when he stacks them up and takes your load.
Luke’s so terribly angry that Travis told him he’s been walking around like a big strawberry, face red and irritated—but not at you. 
He realizes he’s also angry at the fact that he can’t protect you from the onslaught of a rain cloud—or maybe it was the fact that you’re so okay with the rain touching your skin and seeping through your orange shirt like he wishes you’d let him. He’s angry at the way the wind blows your hair into your face and your fingers brush the strands away like he wishes he can. Most of all, Luke Castellan is angry that he didn’t know how good a simple touch could be until he lost it—before he even really got to appreciate yours.
You’re sitting on the opposite end of the row in the amphitheater laughing with your friends and the furrow in his thick brow is a tell-tale sign of his discomfort. Luke doesn’t dare to remember what it’s like before you to be honest—he’d rather give up Elysium instead of having you ignore him like this. He calls your name, a tinge of both anger and desperation until you look over at him, eyelashes kissing your cheeks. The hold you have on him transcends the physical touch of your fingers but he wants, no—needs you next to him.
“C’mere! Why are you so far away?”
Luke hopes it doesn’t sound pathetic, but a crooked grin splits across his face as soon as you make your way over, sitting down and crossing your legs away from him. It’s still too far, even if he can feel your breath on his shoulder.
“Did I do something to make you angry? I…” The words escape his mouth in a jumble—quick wit from his father escaping him, though he knows not to rely on that asshole, god or not. You mutter words that almost escape him too, and he leans in, chasing your hands and putting them in his own until they’re gentle and soft in his lap.
“No, no…. I just… don’t want to push your boundaries. I know you don’t like it when I’m too touchy,” and he thinks his heart clenches a little like how you’re squeezing his hands. Luke shouldn’t feel instant gratification from a subconscious action. He wants to know you mean it with him—that’s what he can’t put into words.
“I….like it when you do.”
You notice the way his fingers tangle tighter with yours, pinkys interlocking with yours. When he lets go, Luke wraps his arm around your shoulders until you’re able to laugh in the crook of his neck. He chooses to place a kiss on the corner of your mouth when your head sways to face him at the silly tune about centaurs and then you realize that Luke loves the way you love him. You wonder if he accidentally missed meeting your lips, but then the noise in your head quiets down when he pulls you closer, lips locking tenderly, intentionally—as they were always meant to.
You both hear a giggle that sounds a lot like tinkling bells belonging to children of Aphrodite. 
For once they were wrong about love. 
Luke’s tongue parts through your lips and meets your own like they’re in a long awaited embrace, dancing and devouring you from the inside out but this, you— are what he can rely on. This, your touch, and how he chooses to let it consume him, never letting go.
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bluesidez · 1 month
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The Love Lab presents:
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Wash Day 🫧🚿
pairing: Miguel O'Hara x AFAB!Reader
summary: Miguel offers to wash your hair because wash days can be a lot, mischief ensues.
content warning: 18+ MDNI, lots of fluff and banter, talks of marriage/proposal, lovey dovey!miguel, head scratching + massaging, p in v sex (wrap it up 🫵🏾, healthcare is expensive and so are babies), just the tip at one point, cussing, subby + service-like miguel (he does start to enter a daze that is similar to a sub drop, but it's not really that and the reader checks up on him immediately), needy!miguel, creative use of miguel's talons, kissing, hickys, a little hair pulling, manhandling, cunnilingus, fellatio, squirting, slight edging, praise kink, breeding kink towards the end, mentions of cum, overstimulation, a little aftercare, reader is a bit of a tease, miguel is a bit of a brat, more references to cats than I thought, no use of y/n
credit for the art/dividers: Me! (+ illustrator and canva)
a/n: This is my first fic that I am posting on here! 🤠 This one has been in the works for a while, but I am happy with the result. This story is written with a black reader in mind, but it's very inclusive minus the hair situation, so anyone can enjoy the story. There is one unrealistic part that NONE of my natural brethren would ever allow, I beg you to just go with it. 😭 I also used a little Spanish in here, to my Spanish-speakers, if anything is wrong, just let me know and I 'll change it right away!
I also imagined the shower to be one of those fancy walk-ins like this or this but big enough for two, because in my mind, Miguel is stacked in the money department as well.
word count: 6.9k (I got carried away)
To all my sub Mig lovers and fiends! Love ya! 🩵🪮
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It was finally time for the day you’ve been putting off for about a week now, the taxing Wash Day.
Normally, you would drag this day out because you knew that once you started, you had to keep going until your hair was done and either ready for the bonnet or the hood dryer. Although today, you were lucky because you had a braid appointment the following morning, so that meant just a simple wash and a blow-dry. You were even luckier because your boyfriend, Miguel, was more than happy to wash your hair for you.
“I know how tired you get afterwards and I just want to help make the process easier,” is what you remember him telling you last night in your sleepy, whiny state.
Now, here you are the next day watching his eyebrows furrow in confusion, lips pouted in a crooked M as you guide him to the old faithful: the kitchen sink.
“Why are you giving me that face? You said you were gonna help,” you chuckle at his expression, watching as his eyes turn to your hair supplies littered across the counter.
“No, no! I still want to help. It’s just that,” he picks up your wide-tooth comb, running his fingers over the teeth, “I thought we were going to be in the shower.”
You look at him, a little dumbfounded at the statement. You didn’t mind washing your hair in the shower, you did it all the time, but what was the point of getting you both wet?
“I just thought it would be easier for you this way,” you reply, pulling the faucet from the sink and waving it around in an attempt to hype up the situation. “I’ll bend my head in the sink, and you’ll wash it that way. Or! You can hike me up on the counter and I can lay down with my head over the sink. That one’s a little less comfortable for me, but it gives you more than enough room to maneuver.”
“Hm,” he grunts, eyes going from you to the counter, then right back to you. “That’s fine and all, but what if my back starts to hurt from bending for too long.”
You just stare at him, unamused. If anyone would be in pain, it would be you.
“In the shower, we can stand together and I can see exactly what’s going on. Plus, you can wash my hair too,” he continues, pulling you flush against his chest, comb forgotten. He starts to rub your hips in a slow motion. “Let’s make it a date.”
“Ok, first of all, you’re not that old to where your back can just give out like that,” you quip, leaning back from his embrace to look him in the eyes. “Secondly, you expect me to believe that the Spiderman is unable to wash someone’s hair in this sink.”
“At 6’9? Absolutely.”
“Touché.”
Truthfully, Miguel was a bit turned on after spending the last 20 minutes watching you completely melt under his hands from scratching your scalp.
It was such a simple task but all of your sighs and whispers of “right there” and “harder” had him internally groaning.
When it was finished, you were up off the floor easily and blissfully unaware, while he was left with a few of your shedded curls covering his clothes and pre-cum threatening to seep into his underwear.
So yes, while technically the shower was the best option for him, he really wanted to ignite that same reaction from you again. It was addicting.
You reach up on your tippy toes and squish his face to give a quick peck to his lips. “Fine, fine! Quit your puppy dog eyes, we can go to the shower. Just let me pee first.”
Step 1 of Miguel’s master plan was already successfully underway.
He started to pick up your supplies, reading the ingredients out of curiosity. Today you were trying a new line of products that was making huge waves online. He remembers seeing how excited you were when the package came in. You had barrelled into the bedroom in a squealing frenzy, and had it not been for his spider senses listening out for you, he would have jumped from the way you threw the door open.
Even though it was another line of products that would fill up the bathroom cabinets, your giddiness rubbed off on him, so he was ready to see results.
“Baby, come on! I’m ready!”
Miguel quickly huddled up everything from the counter and made his way to the bathroom.
He walked in to see you standing next to the sink, birthday suit on and your hands reaching up to push your hair from your forehead.
Heaven-sent were the first words that came to mind. Here you were, standing in the steam of the bathroom just for his eyes. He couldn’t help but linger in the doorway, heart skipping a beat at the sight of you.
You turned to look back at him, mirth in your eyes, “Mig, come on, the water’s running.”
He didn’t even comprehend the sound of the water hitting the tiles, he was so zoned in on you.
“I’m coming, I was just…admiring you,” he replies, moving to prepare for the shower.
“There’s no way you’re eyeing me up right now. I look a little crazy,” you say, turning back towards the mirror.
“Querida, you could be rocking a spiked mohawk right now, and I would still have the same reaction. You’re beautiful no matter how your hair looks.”
You bit your lip, heart fluttering at his words. If you didn’t have to get ready for your hair appointment tomorrow, you’d stop everything then and there to love on your boyfriend.
For now, you settled on helping him out of his clothes, a smile growing on your face. You pulled his shirt up as far as you could reach, then let your hands roam over his chest, watching the goosebumps that followed behind. You kept your fingers walking down to the waistband of his pants, lightly scratching at his happy trail.
His stomach twitched in response to your touch, hands itching to pull you closer.
You placed your hands at his sides, gripping the waistband of his sweatpants and underwear, slowly tugging at the bands. You stepped forward to get a better leverage, breasts pressing against his torso.
His breaths were coming out in short beats, not wanting to disrupt the spell that you put him under. He looked down at the closing space between you all’s bodies because if he looked up at your eyes, he’d stop everything and take you right there against the counter.
But the shower. He was supposed to make it to the shower. Which was in an area by itself. In the next room. With your hands roaming everywhere, he wasn’t even sure if he could even make it past the toilet.
His eyes fluttered closed as you slid your hands back up his thighs, a deep breath building in his lungs. Like this, he was really able to tune in on both the heat of your body against his and the lingering touch of your hands. Hyper-focused on you and you alone.
Then he heard a loud slap.
His eyes bucked back open, body rigid as the sting came back in waves on the side of his ass.
“Come on, we’ve got heads to scrub!” you said, voice as clear as ever.
He watched you twirl towards the shower, his mind muddled from your switch to playfulness. Had he read that all wrong?
He looked down and sighed at the sight of his dick, half-hard at what could have been.
All he could do was stagger out of the clothes that pooled at his ankles, grab the hair products, and waddle to the shower.
You were already halfway under the spray of the shower head, head leaning back, waiting for the water to completely soak through the layers of your hair.
Miguel came up next to you and detached the shower head, bringing it closer to your scalp, careful not to get water in your ears.
“So first, we have to use the scalp scrub shampoo,” you say, grabbing one of the taller bottles and unscrewing it. “Just take this in your hands first, lather it, and work it into my scalp.”
You pull his left hand forward and squeeze some of the liquid in his palm.
“Is this enough?” he asked, noticing the little amount you put in his hand.
“Yep! A little can go a long way, baby,” you say, turning around to him, trying to determine how you would reach the top of his head.
Oh, how Miguel was so well acquainted with that phrase. Especially after this cat-and-mouse game you’ve been playing with him all day.
You faced him as he placed his fingers on your scalp, beginning to move in circles, spreading the shampoo in several sections.
“You can add a little pressure. I can take it,” you mumble out, almost low enough for Miguel to miss it.
So he does. He starts to scratch at your scalp, remembering that this is an important step. For your hair of course, not his plan.
“Ugh, that feels so nice,” you sigh, trying not to sway under him. “I should have had you do this sooner.”
Miguel thought so too. Here you are, head leaned back, eyes closed, and completely oblivious to his inner turmoil. He kept scratching at your scalp, your head nodding along with the motions.
“Can you scratch over here, please?” you ask, pointing at the right side of your head, eyes squeezed tight to not let any soap fall in them. Even after all of your teasing, you were still so cute in this moment. When Miguel complied, you showed your gratitude by groaning out a quick thank you. With a long sigh, you placed your hands in front of his chest, fingers balled up in loose fists.
“Does it feel good?” Miguel knew the answer, but he had to play along. “You want me to move anywhere else?”
“Yeah, could you just-” you leaned your head over, mindlessly guiding Miguel’s hands. “Right there, baby.”
You brought your hands up to grip at his wrists, needing something to hold onto. Miguel felt insane.
To curb the feeling, he quickly leaned down and kissed your forehead. His head was overloaded with the sound of your voice and he had to keep himself composed.
You looked up at him, eyes big and wide at his affection. He kept making you feel warm doing such mundane things. You purse your lips, silently begging for more.
Miguel brought his soapy hands to the water to quickly rinse them off, then placed them on your cheeks and leaned down again to kiss your lips.
One. Two. Three pecks and you were giggling.
Four. Five. Six pecks and you were on your tiptoes, arms crossed behind his neck.
Seven. Eight. Nine pecks and you were turning your head, opening your mouth for more.
Ten. Eleven. Twelve kisses and you were in his arms, feet off the ground, biting at his bottom lip.
By the thirteenth kiss, you were pulling your head back, staring into his eyes, grabbing at his nape.
“We still have to wash the shampoo out,” you say, watching as his eyes linger on your lips.
“We can do that,” he mumbles, still holding you close.
“Are you gonna put me down?” you ask, tone a little cheeky.
He snaps his eyes up at yours, eyebrow raised. “Are you gonna finish what you started?” He started to move one of his palms down your back, taking a thigh to pull around his waist, and placing his mouth on your jaw.
“Nuh uh, O’Hara,” you chide, pushing against his chest and wiggling to get him to remove his embrace. The water smacks against the tiles as you jump down, one calf still in Miguel’s hand.
“O’Hara?” Miguel scoffed, playfully pulling at you again and tickling your side. “I’m not sure who that is, but maybe you forgot how to say baby, mi vida.”
You laughed at him, finally calling out his bluff, “No, because my baby said he would help me wash my hair, and right now he’s being bad and trying to distract me. So, until you finish, it’s O’Hara.” You folded your arms and tilted your head to the side, daring Miguel to counter your words.
He dropped your leg and muttered out a gruff “fine” with his lips downturned. Two could play at this game and if he wanted to distract you, he just had to turn up the heat.
He grabbed for the shower head and started to rinse the thick shampoo from your hair, carefully weaving through the locks.
“When do we detangle it?”
You started to smile again, happy at his verb usage. He really does listen to you when you talk about your hair.
“When we put on the conditioner, but you can start a little now while the water’s running on it. Need the brush?”
“No, I’ll just use my fingers for a little bit.”
You turned your face back to him, shocked that he remembered another technique.
“You’re gonna finger detangle, ba- I mean, O’Hara?”
“Yes I am, corazón. Why are you looking at me like that? I’m a great boyfriend that knows what his girl needs.”
You squint your eyes, wary at his words. “Uh huh, I bet you do. If you know so much, what’s next?”
“We shampoo again. Rinse. Then it’s conditioner and detangling, just like you said.”
You hummed, internally ecstatic that he actually did know the answer. “Another point for you,” you say, turning back around as Miguel places the shower head back on the hook.
Miguel smirked. He listened to you, he really did, but he also made sure to watch over 20 videos about washing coily hair while you were sleeping. You didn’t have to know that though.
His high was short-lived when you bent over to grab the next shampoo. He grabbed at your hips, watching as the swell of your ass aligned against his front. He pushed his head back and breathed in deep. How unfair.
You leaned back up slowly, turning the bottle around trying to fish for any specific directions.
“This one is a hydrating shampoo. It says you can just put it on my hair and just work it through.”
Miguel repeated the same shampooing process, although this time with less scalp scratching and more scalp massaging. You were once again in bliss at his ministrations, like a cat who couldn’t stop purring.
“O’Hara, you really have a way with your hands. Super relaxing,” you say with snickers underlining your voice.
Miguel just reached for the shower head, ready to rinse for the second time. “This guy sounds like a real catch. Too bad he isn’t here.”
You just laugh at how sulky he sounded, ready to grab the conditioner.
“Well, is there a Mr. O’Hara here? I kind of need him for this last step.”
Miguel stopped in his tracks.
You really didn’t understand how much he wanted to make you his wife. In fact, he started planning the proposal to a T after a year of you all being together. He started to dream about a future with you after the first couple of dates, despite how often he had to tell himself to slow down. It was terrifying yet thrilling how much you left an impression on his life.
Mr. and Mrs. O’Hara.
Mr. O’Hara.
Mrs. O’Hara.
Miguel bent his head in your neck and wrapped his arms around your waist, face burning from his running thoughts.
“Y-you can’t use that against me. You know how I get,” he said petulantly, voice softened in the juncture of your neck, drowned out by the pouring water.
“And how do you get, baby?” you ask, reaching over to run your fingers through his damp hair. You tugged lightly at the root causing Miguel to hug you tighter and groan against your neck.
As hot as the water was, the heat of your body against his left him burning. The angle was weird so he couldn’t exactly rub up against you, but he could kiss along the surface of your shoulders.
He started to slowly press kisses down your neck, moaning as you tilted your head to give him more space. He stopped to linger at the top of your shoulder, taking in a small amount of skin. After he was happy at the mark he left, he opened his mouth a little wider, canines grazing against your skin.
You reach to pull his head back up, resting his jaw on your shoulder.
“Focus, Mr. O’Hara, it’s only one more step.” You say these words lowly right next to his ear, pressing your lips on his tragus then pushing his head up to kiss against his jaw.
When Miguel stood up fully, you could see the dazed look in his eyes. Staring closer, you noticed they were a little dewey.
You had to bring him back down to Earth. You couldn’t have him lost in this steam.
“Hey, baby look at me,” you even your tone and angle his face towards yours. “Are you alright? Do we need to sit down?”
You wait for his eyes to find yours, searching for discomfort.
“No, I'm fine. I’m ok, sorry,” he says, leaning into one of your hands, wrapping his hand around it for extra support.
“Positive? I know the water is really hot so if you need to step out and cool down, then that’s fine. I’ll help you settle down then come back and finish up by myself,” you say, adamant in your words.
“No! No, no. I’m really ok. I’m so cool and calm right now that it’s crazy,” he replies, frantic at the thought of leaving you in the shower. “Hand me the conditioner.”
You look at him again, tickled at the change in condition. All you could do was sigh, twist the cap off of the conditioner, and pull the inner lid off.
He dabbed two fingers on top of the cream, scooping a small amount off of the top. “A little goes a long way, right?”
“A little does go a long way.”
“Can you turn around, please?”
You comply, placing the conditioner in a corner.
“If you need it to lather a bit more, just add a little water,” you remind him.
He began to work the conditioner through, going from the root to the ends. The results were quick and he could see your curls begin to sprout. He started to thoroughly pull his fingers through, working out any leftover tangles. He got to a bigger knot and held the section of hair in one hand, and carefully combed through the knot with the other.
You were feeling peaceful until it dawned on you: you never gave him a comb or a brush to work with.
“Hold on, baby what are you using to take the knots out with? Do you have a comb?”
Miguel placed one of his hands in your face and pushed his talons out, like a cat showing its claws off when you press the center of its paw.
You panic, remembering that they can tear through people and metal, “Um. I don’t think using these bad boys on my hair is the right way to go.”
“Tranquila, mi amor, I got it. I’m using the dull side, see?”
He put a tuft of hair in front of your eyes and showed the process of him detangling while talon-less, then working out the final tough knot with the side of the talon, turning his hand sideways to avoid cutting your curls.
As a result, the section was completely detangled, allowing him to run his fingers straight through the thick strands, and the curls springing back up once he was finished. Plus, from what you could tell, there was no breakage.
Color you impressed because Miguel was pulling out all of the stops today.
“Alright, just. Be careful.”
“Always.”
“If you jack up my hair, Lyla will have to place Jess in charge permanently.”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
You stand, arms placed under your chest, waiting for Miguel to finish. Subconsciously listening to the pattern of his breaths and the sound of his talon going through your hair.
“Ok, that’s it. Do you want to wash my hair while this sits?”
Such a smart boyfriend.
“Yeah just let me go ahead and finish this shower while you get your hair wet.”
Miguel stepped back to get under the overhead shower head, letting the water fall on him like rain, watching you as you began to lather body wash on your net sponge.
You were scrubbing away at your skin getting into every crevice, peach fragrance filling the air.
He wanted to reach out and touch you, but look where that’s gotten him so far. Almost kicked out of the bathroom.
You were just as stubborn as he was, no, resolute.
He admired it, especially when you gracefully brought him down from clouds that were his own fantasies.
Focusing back on you, he stared openly as you folded your body in half to reach your ankles causing everything to be on display.
A normal person would put their foot on the ledge to reach below. You were definitely fucking with him.
He watched as you pulled the net sponge across your body, leaning up as the languid movements of your hands pulled the net side to side.
He was glad that the water drowned out his harsh breathing.
You finished off your shower, working the detached shower head over the soap, clearing up your skin.
You brought the shower head lower, making sure that there was no bubble left behind.
When you held your ass to help the water pass all the way down the back of your body, Miguel jumped to hold the base of his cock, softly groaning at the picture you were painting.
He lifted his face up and pushed his hair back, in hopes that the stream could help him clear his mind. But, the water was hot, all it did was make him lightheaded at the thought of you.
“Miguel? Come over here so I can wash you too.”
Miguel tottered over, looking down at your body, shining after all your thorough work. You were placing soap on a pair of exfoliating gloves you had bought for him, lathering them together once you were satisfied with the amount of soap.
You got to work on his body, starting at the shoulders and moving in circular motions.
Miguel stared in silence, hoping you would put an end to this charade. But you continue to be meticulous, covering every inch of his upper body. Lifting his arms when you wanted to. Moving him around when you wanted to.
In this moment, he felt like a ragdoll, letting you do whatever you pleased.
You squatted down to do his lower body, eyes laser focused, not missing a spot.
All Miguel could focus on was your face so close to his dick that was twitching in anticipation. You just ignored it and continued to rub the rest of him down. Miguel wanted to cry.
You were touching everywhere, slowing down on his inner thighs and ass causing his knees to shake.
You held him steady by gripping the back of his thighs and finally looked up at him, acknowledging his presence.
Your eyes traced him all the way down to the gift that was in front of you. You parted your lips and let your tongue brush against the tip, watching as spurts of pre-cum escaped. You couldn’t have that. You leaned forward a little more, taking the head in completely, and allowed yourself a few more licks and a suck before you let go with a pop, watching the thin trail of spit grow as you leaned back.
Miguel whined in frustration, a cloud of desire fading so quickly.
“Amor, why did you-”
You quickly jumped up and rested against him, arms wrapped around his waist and hands lightly groping his butt.
“I didn’t even wash your hair yet, silly,” you quip, chin nuzzling against his sternum. “Now, go rinse off and sit on the bench so I can reach your hair.”
Forget wanting to cry, Miguel might actually do it.
He was so, so hard.
After the soap was gone he trudged to the bench, glancing over at you washing the conditioner out of your hair.
“I could have washed it out for you,” he protests, half bothered by his situation and half annoyed that he let it blindside him from the main point of this shower.
“It’s ok, baby. You really helped me out a lot today and I’m thankful. I’m also making sure you don’t drop to the floor right now, so hold on for me,” you reply earnestly, chuckling at the look of frustration slapped across Miguel’s face.
You bring over the hydrating scrub, some conditioner, and the shower head, and stand in between his legs, ready to start.
Miguel looked up at you like you hung the stars in the sky, undeniably in love and unbelievably aroused.
You started to unscrew the scrub, making sure to part his hair down the middle.
“You’re using your products on me?” he asked, confused at your actions.
“Just the shampoo. I don’t think this conditioner will do you any good, but for the most part, the line is pretty inclusive. Ain’t that neat?”
“Mm-hm,” he responded, cheeks squished against your chest, arms wrapped around your thighs.
“Look forward, for me, baby,” you say, starting to spread the shampoo on his scalp.
He just hummed and groaned in the safety of your torso, while you scratched at his scalp and pulled the shampoo to his ends. He started to kiss and nibble at any skin he could get his mouth on. His grip was getting tighter and he felt a stutter in your breaths.
“Lean back so I can rinse this out.”
He placed his chin on your stomach again, eyes full of hearts.
“I’m almost finished, I just need to put your conditioner on.”
Miguel hummed once more as you placed the conditioner at his ends first, then scrunched his hair up, careful not to mess with his scalp. Mindful of his wavy, curly hair texture like he was for yours.
His wine eyes kept staring at you, as if you were the 8th wonder of the world. You felt heat in your face, an accumulation of the almost boiling water and Miguel’s full attention.
He was simply grinning, face wet and tinted from the water.
“You’re so cute,” you say, rinsing out the last of the product.
“Only with you,” he replies, still trying to make you look into his eyes. “Can you come closer?”
You set the shower head down and run your hands through his strands, “I feel like I’m already as close as it gets.”
“Not really,” he said, swiftly sitting you on his lap like you weighed nothing. “You could always be closer to me, cariño. I can think of many ways to make that happen.”
You finally allow yourself to indulge in his shenanigans. Leaning your forehead on his, you open your mouth to say, “Is that why you were so adamant about getting in the shower? To get as close to me as possible?”
He looked from your eyes to your mouth, “No?”
You bring your hands from his hair to his neck, “You know you can’t lie. In fact, you’re like, really bad at it.”
“Fine. It was partially because of that. How did you know?”
“Like I said, you can’t lie and neither can your face. You’ve been pouting ever since I let you scratch my head and especially when I wanted to wash my hair in the sink.”
“Am I that easy to read?”
“Kind of,” you say, a laugh twinkling off your lips. “I can always tell when you want me.”
“Yeah? And what am I telling you right now?” He starts to move your hips, placing his erection right under you, grinding your lips against him.
You close your eyes, a flame beginning to blossom within you, “I guess that you need, fuck, you need me.” Your clit was throbbing against his length as he dragged your body back and forth.
“I do, bebé, I do,” Miguel was moaning loudly, melting at the feeling of your pussy finally warming him up. He moved his lips to yours, desperately trying to have more of you, gripping your hips even harder.
“Baby, s-slow down,” you say in the midst of his kisses, trying to put your feet on the bench next to him to gain some sort of stability. You knew he was pent up, but he was moving so frantically, you were scared he might slip off.
“Te necesito. Please, just-” Miguel cut himself off with a groan in your neck, grinding your slit along himself faster. He started to kiss down your chest, finally getting to your breasts, and gliding his tongue along the wet skin. He took a nipple into his mouth, allowing himself to suck.
The flame from before was starting to grow, “Miggy if you keep going, I’m gonna cum.” He was just starting and you already felt everything coming to an end.
How were you so close, yet he was the one who was riled up?
“Miguel, I’m-” you hold on harder to his neck, eyebrows furrowed.
“Uh huh. C’mon, give it to me,” he encouraged, staring at you, eyes cloudy.
You break above him, a scream crawling from your throat, hips stuttering in his hold, and liquid leaking onto the floor.
“Oh my god,” your mind was hazy, reveling from how quick you came, but mostly at how needy Miguel looked.
“Was it good?” he asked, hugging your body as he switched angles, dragging his body closer to the edge of the bench, letting your feet fall to the floor. His voice was whiny, desperate, wanton. “Was I good for you? Did you feel good?”
You brought your mouth to his temple, movements shaky and heart still thumping, “You were so good for me, baby. So good.”
He sighed, breath leaving his lungs as if what you told him was a matter of life and death.
“Then use me,” he leaned back, hands pressed against the seat. “Use me, however you please.”
You stared at him, a little stunned but fully immersed. When you brought your hand to his chest, you could feel how fast his heart was moving. You brought your mouth to his once more, a thumb on his chin pushing so that lips could part. You kissed him deep, making sure to direct his focus there while you placed your knees on the bench.
Sitting just above him, you guided your sex to his, allowing his tip to barely kiss you. You wanted him, yearned for him inside of you, but not yet.
You slid his tip past your slit, only edging it in partially, then rubbed your pussy up and down the head, allowing yourself to open up.
Miguel moaned into your mouth, hands curling into fists as he felt your walls close around the top of him. He started to move in tiny thrusts matching your rhythm.
“Nuh uh, baby, it’s just me right now, remember?” You break your kiss to reprimand him, bringing your hand from his chin to his stomach, and stopping all movement.
Miguel could only cry out and nod, upset at the loss of your body devouring his own, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, keep going. I’ll be still, cariño, please.”
“Good. There he is, my sweet baby,” you say, voice a prime example at how much Miguel begging for you was affecting you.
You start back, ass moving with a bit more force. You lean to press a long kiss against his neck, losing yourself in the sound of him barely inside of you, his groans a lovely melody filling up the room.
“You feel amazing, Miguel. So big, and you’re only giving me so little,” you pant in his ear, knees starting to hurt from how hard the tiles were.
“It’s all for you. Just for you,” he gasped, twitching when the sounds of your juices got even louder at your constant movement. “Mi amor, please, can I hold you?”
“Always, baby.”
Internally you chuckled, you never told him he couldn’t touch you, you just followed his plea to use him like a toy. He was so pussy drunk, he forgot the parameters he set for himself.
He wrapped his biceps around you, your arms folding behind your back in the process, but that didn’t stop you from riding out the high that was another orgasm.
“That’s right, keep going. Úsame, take what you need,” he requested. He was itching to dive deeper into you, not wanting your pleasure to end.
You threw your head back and whined high with Miguel’s name on your tongue, gushing out your release for a second time.
“Fuck.” Miguel was still holding onto you, legs taut in their position. He swerved your pussy across his length, listening at how wet you were.
You laid your head on the tile above Miguel, relieved with its slight coolness and trying to slow down your rapid heartbeat. Your hips kept bucking as an aftereffect.
You didn’t get that much of a cool down before Miguel was at it again, finally sliding his dick in until he bottomed out.
The two of you let out long moans in unison, a harmony that wasn’t unfamiliar to your apartment.
In this position, your face was back in front if Miguel’s, eyes watery from the sensation of him filling you up.
“You’re perfect, you feel perfect,” Miguel cradled you, trying to get as comfortable as he could, despite the impossible position he put himself in.
Lifting his hips off of the bench, he held himself up by his back pressed against the tiles.
Before you could even ask him if you all should move to the floor, he knocked the wind out of you, holding you up as he slammed into you.
“Miguel!” you shout, clamoring for anything to grab onto after the impact had you knocking forward.
“I got you, I promise. Won’t let you fall,” he heaved out, words spilling out as fast as his hips were snapping.
All you could do was mutter out words incoherently, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass reverberating off of the walls. Your eyes finally let go of the tears they were holding, overwhelmed by your state of being.
“What’s that, mi amor?” Miguel cooed at you, licking off one of your tears and kissing your cheek. “Can you feel me? Is it too much?”
“I, ngh, I,” you could barely get your words out, your brain turning into mush after each thrust. Miguel kept going, humming as he spread kisses around your face.
“You gotta answer me, baby. I need to know,” he whispered.
“I’m trying,” you respond, voice cracking from overuse. You were still peeved at his composure. “I thought you said, oh my god, you said you didn’t want to hurt your back.”
Miguel just pursed his lips, eyes clearing up for just a second, “I didn’t. And I’m not going to, super-healing, remember?”
“That’s-” your sentence was cut off by Miguel hiking you up and smacking you back down in time with one of his thrusts.
“Shit! Do that again,” you sob, thoughts coming to a stop.
“Yeah?” Miguel tried his best to keep his eyes on you, but you were squeezing so tight around him that his eyes kept rolling.
“Yes, Miggy. Right there, that spot. It’s so,” you were drooling at this point. “It’s so much.”
Miguel kept it up, glad to be hearing those words, proud of himself for igniting you.
You held your head down, body wound tight, “I think I’m gonna cum. I’m close.”
“Again?” Miguel asked, heart fluttering at you falling apart on his dick.
“Yes, baby. Don’t stop,” you say, voice wavering.
Right as you felt your body beginning to let go, Miguel halted and sat back on the bench.
“No, no, no. Why did you-” You were cut off by Miguel grabbing you and placing you on your shoulders, pussy in his face.
He opened his mouth and pushed his tongue in where his cock once was swirling in and out, sucking at your folds. He starts to hum as if you've fed him his last meal, causing your orgasm to come in waves.
“Oh!” you shout, thighs quivering around his head, one hand gathering a fist of hair and the other pawing at the wall. Miguel was lapping everything up, holding you so that you couldn’t even think of falling.
“Ok, ok,” you say, mewling as he kept you in place while your hips shook. “S’too much.” He finally let’s go, placing you back in his lap.
“Did I do good?” he asks, chest rising and falling rapidly now that he catered to you. His face was a mess, evidence of you all down his neck.
You kissed his nose, giggling at his need for praise, “Yes, baby. You did amazing. Fantastic. Perfecto.”
He was practically vibrating with joy, kneading at your thighs.
“But Miggy, there’s still a problem,” you say, holding his face with both hands. “You still didn’t cum yet.”
You watched his face flit through several phases: ecstatic, worried, then hungry.
“Can I keep going?” he asks, hands starting to roam again.
You simply nod and try to prepare yourself for him moving you around again.
He sinks back in slowly, careful of your sensitive body. You try your best to move, hips working in circles, hands holding onto his thighs. You couldn't help but to squeeze onto him, despite how tired you were.
“You look so pretty,” Miguel mumbled.
“Bet I would look prettier if you finished. Inside.”
That fired him up even more. He started to help you to bounce up and down his length, teeth gritted. You held your head back, eyes scrunched at the feeling of him inside again.
Then he started to whimper, a telltale sign that he was close.
“Can you say it again, please?” he said, moving to stand with you in his arms.
“Say what?” you ask, exhausted yet in awe that he still had so much energy. “That I want you to cum inside? Fill me up?”
You could feel him twitch inside of you, mind hazy at the thought.
“Shockingly, no. My name. Porfa, mi vida. I need to hear it.” He was still holding you as he pounded away, eyes never leaving yours.
You’ve been saying his name the whole time, so surely that can’t be it. Then, it dawned on you.
“Let go, Mr. O’Hara,” you say, mouth right next to his.
And so he did. He bent over, hands gripping your sides as he snapped his hips frantically, groaning into your mouth as he kissed you hard. You could feel him seeping inside you, hot liquid filling you up.
You clutch at his shoulders, feeling your hold slipping from how wet his skin was from the shower and the heat. You cry out again, body sore from all of fun and sensitive from overstimulation.
Miguel finally let up for what felt like hours, standing up straight and pulling you off his dick. He hissed at the feeling, angling your body parallel to his so that everything could fall to the shower floor.
You lay your head on his shoulder tiredly, grateful that he was still carrying you.
“That’s going to mess up the drain. You should have just let it stay in me until it took,” you mumble into his shoulder, hearing his breath hitch at your words. “Or until I got to the toilet or something.”
He brought you both back to the bench, “You're on the pill so stop teasing me about that.”
“But that doesn’t mean that you can’t live out your breed-”
“Yeah, yeah. I got it, mi amor,” he says, pecking your lips to stop you from continuing. “Now let's clean you up. Again.”
He reaches for the shower head and checks the temperature. Humming, he aims the spray at your lower area.
You jump and yelp, “That’s so fucking cold!”
“Bébe, it’s literally warm. I just checked!”
No wonder he was about to die in the steam, “You know how hot I like my showers, and that’s ice cold right now.”
“Well I’m sorry it’s not burning, but we have to clean you up,” he said, trying to console you. “I’ll warm you up later.”
You look at him and there’s this playful look on his face. “No,” you say, just the thought of doing this again making you sleepy.
You eye his body up and down. “Maybe later.”
He just chuckled and finished up.
An hour later, the two of you are dry, blow dried, and comfortably laid out across the couch with baking competition shows queued up on the TV.
You look up at Miguel from your position on his chest, cheesing from ear to ear.
He feels you staring at him and looks down, eyes warm. “What?” he asks, watching your face light up.
“Nothing. I just love you,” you say, unable to look away.
He kisses you, heart keeping a steady beat, “I love you too.”
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I hope you enjoyed reading! 🩵🩵
Any likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated and welcomed.
(And did anyone catch my Beyoncé Cécred refs?? I have no idea how brand names work with fics so I just stuck to nameless descriptions😭)
- Lauro 🧼
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writers-hes · 9 months
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tell me you need me (1 of 2) | c. berzatto x reader
It was good when you started but Carmen Berzatto had the ability to make anyone fall in love with him no matter how much you tried not to. (friends with benefits!carmen, smut, mndi!!!, unprotected p in v, smut! smut!, angst!! fluff, maybe some bad words, blood, unedited) MASTER LISTS
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I need you tonight. Want to go?
You sighed at the message that Carmy sent you. “Want to go” was a code for “I want to have sex.” and it’s been working pretty well for these past few months. You both needed some sort of release for the pent-up stress that you both have. Carmy, with the Bear and you, with art. You were a full-time artist; creating art inspired by food using oil paint and other forms of media. You’ve been stressed with your upcoming gallery opening next month. Would they love it? It’s quite hard to meet the expectations after winning the Herb Alpert Award in the Arts last year. It was close to Carmy’s James Beard Foundation award, if not the same. In a way, at the end of the day, you were two people excelling in your jobs except for everything else. You sucked at relationships, friendships, connection…what wasn’t artistic; you sucked at. Carmy was the same. Without thinking, you typed your response, a four letter word. Maybe you’ll see him tonight.
-
Carmy enters your home like he lived in it. He had his own set of keys, it was easier that way. He’s been so stressed with the Bear and the only thing that he needs is to blow off some of that steam before he can be functional again. There was supposed to be a celebrity who was wishing for a whole fucking kitchen tour tomorrow and he had to stay behind to make sure that everything was perfect. 
“Hey,” he greets you when he sees you perched on your couch. He liked your apartment much better; at least you had multiple rooms and your own space. It’s not like his; there was work everywhere while yours felt homey. Except your studio down the hall—damn, how much do artists earn today?
“Hey,” you replied. “Did you have dinner yet? I can heat up some of the Chinese food I ordered earlier.”
“No, no. It’s alright,” he says, removing his shoes in the doorway. You were always so tidy and meticulous. No outside clothes on the bed; he had to learn that the hard way. “Actually, um, can-can I take a shower first? I want to wash the day away and I-I smell like the kitchen.”
“And you took the L,”
“Ubered here, actually.”
“Surge rates?”
“I was in a rush.”
“Oh,” you gulped. “Well, you still have your clothes in my wardrobe and your toiletries in my bathroom.”
“Which one?” he asked. “Which-which bathroom?”
“The one in my bedroom,” you replied. “You know where the fresh towels are. So…”
“Uh, yeah-yeah,” he says. “Thanks.” You only smiled at him. Conversation before your engagements are usually awkward because you both knew what the two of you were there for. It’s more comfortable afterwards; when he talks about the Bear or asks you about your art.
You and Carmy met from a friend of a friend. You were looking for chefs that could serve you inspiration for your paintings when she mentioned Carmen Berzatto. You reached out to him and he replied three months later, telling you that he can show you some of the recipes that he’s been working on. He’s an artist himself—Sistine Chapel art kind of stuff. He explained the components of his dish over dinner in your hotel apartment in New York. You mentioned that you were from Chicago and he mentioned that he’s from Chicago too…you drank too much wine and the rest was history. 
You both stopped communicating when he met Claire but he reached out again, asking if you wanted to meet. He told you all about her and how he fucked up. You drank too much wine again. History has the habit of repeating itself.
You swore to never fall in love with Carmen Berzatto and you didn’t…not until recently. He used to leave immediately once you’re both done. Lately, he’s been staying over. He talks to you about everything. He stays over and wakes you up with coffee and some Michelin Star quality pancakes or French toast. He watches you take your first bite before he takes his, likes to watch your reaction and likes hearing your praise.
You were too lost in your reviere to notice Carmen walking to you, all fresh and clean. He lays a hand on your shoulder and kisses your neck.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks, voice deep and sultry. 
“You,” you replied, reaching up to massage his curls. 
“Good,” he says, removing himself from you and sitting on the opposite side of the couch. “Needed you today…but I want to talk first before…before…”
“That’s fine with me,” you replied, inching closer to him. “What’s wrong?” He puts his hand on your knee, squeezing it lightly. Since when was he so comfortable around you?
“I…I just… Mikey,” The name lingers heavy in the air. Anytime Carmen feels the crushing weight of the pressure, he says Mikey. Whenever he feels inadequate, not enough, never enough—he says Mikey.
“He’ll be proud of you, Carm,” you said, smiling at him. “Like everyone else is.”
“I’m sorry for not inviting you to the opening…Claire was-was there and…”
“I understand,” You put your hand over his to reassure him that everything’s okay. “I understand.”
“You wouldn’t have seen me,” he chuckled. “I was locked inside the walk-in the whole time and well, everything was great. What if I’m not needed?”
Is it too late for me to love you? 
“Carm…” you trailed off, trying to find the words. “Of course, you’re needed. The Bear wouldn’t be The Bear without you, you know? Your family must be so proud of you because I know that-that I am. I’m so proud of you and I-I need you so much,” you told him. “I need you, Carmen. More than you could ever know.”
Is it too late for me to love you? 
Maybe it was the words that you said, maybe it was the long forgotten show on the T.V., maybe it was because the T.V. screen illuminated your face in a way that was so, so beautiful. Maybe it was just him.
“Let’s go to bed,” he rasps, taking your hand and dragging you to the bedroom. Once he closes the door behind him, Carmy presses you against it, taking your chin and kissing you. It was slow and needy; this kiss was needy. You trail your hand underneath the white shirt that hugged his figure. You caress his sides up and down; softly; slowly and Carmen releases a whimper into your mouth. I need you. I need you. I need you. 
“Baby,” he whispers, pulling away from you to remove his shirt. “Baby, baby, baby.”
“I need you, Carmen,” you muster the courage to kiss his neck now, sucking and nipping right under his collarbone. He lets you do it, he lets you mark him like you own him. He tugs on the roots of your hair lightly. You lick the purple bruise, nipping it again just so it could last one more week. Carmen was sighing above you, letting you take him like he wanted to be taken. His hands itch, slipping right under the waistband of your panties to cup your heated cunt. “Carmy,”
“I know, baby. Let’s get you to bed, hm?” he asks, pushing you slightly. “Lay down for me. I missed you so much. Let me show you,”
You obey his commands, opening your legs widely like he likes. He crawls until his face is right in front and removes your underwear, tossing it to the side. He’ll take care of that later.
“You’re so wet,” he groans, when he lets his index finger trail along your slit. You buckle in need; silently begging him to do more. “So, fucking wet,” he repeats, parting your folds until he sees your glistening cunt. 
“Carm…” you whine. He spits on your clit and you whimper. 
“Let me taste you, hm?” you heard him say, his wandering fingers rubbing all sorts of shapes on your folds. You could only nod and he takes that, licking a bold stripe. You press your cunt against his tongue and he just takes it. He licks a few more stripes before sucking your clit softly. 
“Carmy,” you moan. Your hands trail down underneath your shirt, thumbs softly flicking your sensitive nipples. Carmy could just come at the sight of you playing with them but he holds back, sucking your clit harsher before plunging his thick middle finger inside you. “Oh, fuck,” 
He pumps the finger slowly…in, out, in, out while he licks your sensitive bud. 
“Fuck, Carmy,” you whimper. “Fuck me,”
“Later,” was his nonchalant reply; enjoying the sweet nectar that dripped from your sloppy pussy. It was better than any dessert he’s ever had before. If it was um to him, he’d have his head buried in between your legs, eating you out forever. You buckle again, pinching your nipples hard and tugging them. 
“Carm…”
“I know, I know,” he says, sucking your clit harshly for one last time before crawling on top of you. “Taste,” he orders. You obliged, opening your mouth and putting on a show with the way you licked your juices off of his finger. “Fuck,” he groans. He palms himself through his boxers while you sucked on his finger. You released it with one last suck before putting your hand on top of Carmy’s to feel his hardening cock underneath. You push his hand away while you squeeze his member lightly. Just enough for him to rut his hips against your hand. Just enough for him to toss his boxers to the side.
You tried to sit up to see him pump a few strokes, moaning your name while he did. He gets off the bed, looking at the way your body moved while you breathed. 
“Beautiful,” he whispers to himself before dragging your body to the end of the bed. He pries your legs open and puts one of them over his shoulder. He liked it like this, it fills you up in ways you cannot describe. “Need you to play with your tits while I fuck you, hm?”
He taps his cock against your pussy.
“Can you hear how wet you are?” he asked, sliding his cock in between your folds. You could feel the protruding vein run along your nub and you moan, massaging your breasts to show him your obedience. “Fuck,”
“Carmy…” you whimpered. “Please.”
He hums, grabbing his member and teasing your wet entrance with his pink tip. “You’re so…”
With no warning, Carmy plunges deep into you and you both groan. You were waiting for this. He’s been wanting this the whole day. He stays there for a few seconds before he thrusts in and out of you slowly. 
“Fuck,” 
The slopping noises inside your room reverberated in your walls and for a few moments, the sounds of your groans and skin slapping against skin heightens your arousal. Carmy thumbs your clit and he feels your walls clench around him.
“Don’t do that, petal,” he rasps, sweat dripping on his forehead. “I’ll cum fast if you do.”
“Sorry,” you choked out. He only grunts as he adjusts his pace. He was faster now and you could hear he ragged breathing. “Carmy, I need you.”
“Y-you need me,” he repeats to himself. “You need me.”
“I do,” you told him, moaning when he plunges his cock deep inside you. “Need you, need you,” 
“Oh, fuck,” he groans. “Tell me that you need me. Tell me,”
“I need you, Carmy,” you whine. “I need you to cum inside me,” 
Carmy’s eyes widened. You’ve never let him do that before. He always had to pull out or use a condom. 
“Want me to fill you up?” he asks, his voice strained. “I’ll fill you —oh, fuck,” 
“Yes, please,” you sobbed, breath hitching at the feeling of his cock twitch inside of you. “Fuck, Carmy.”
Sex has never felt this good. 
You could feel the breaking point come nearer and he does too. His movements were sloppier, his breathing even more ragged that it was. Your walls were clenching around him but that seemed to arouse him even more. 
“Fuck, fuck,” he grunted. “I’ll fill you up, hm?” 
“Yes, please, Carmy,” you whine. He could only nod, doing his best to keep his orgasm at bay. He wanted to prolong this feeling; this emotion but he couldn’t. “Fuck, Carmy, I’m cumming, I’m cumming. Carm—oh!”
He follows soon after, moaning your name as he shoots ropes of cum inside your pussy. He could feel your walls clench around him and he thrusts in slowly, to ride both of your orgasms away. 
“You-you liked that?” he asked. He doesn’t pull out. Instead he takes your other leg and hangs in on his shoulder. “We have to make sure that not a drop goes to waste.”
You nodded and felt his hands caress your legs slowly. He slowly lays your legs back down on the bed and crawls on top of you, kissing your torso, neck, and your chest while he did. 
“Stay there,” he ordered and you nodded in assent. You just let him cum inside you. He walks over to the carafe on your bedside, filling the glass with water and then, taking a hand towel from your cabinet. He pours a little bit of the liquid onto the towel. You sit up when he wordlessly gives you the glass of water. He watches you finish it and kisses your head when you gave him the glass back. He sets it on the floor carefully before opening your legs so he could clean you up.
“No,” you shook your head and he stops, alert because you told him no. “I’m…I’m still sensitive,”
“Okay, petal,” he nods, taking the glass and the towel away. He picks up the tossed articles of clothing puts it in the laundry basket. He was quiet when he takes a fresh set of pyjamas and underwear from your wardrobe. “Raise your arms,” he says and you do. He puts a new shirt on you. “Lay down.” You followed him. He puts a new pair of panties on you. “Thank you,”
You were so tired now but you were still so aware of Carmy’s actions. He stands up from the bed to wear new clothes and sits down on the bed. He carefully places your head on his lap and plays with your hair.
“Thank you,” he says, bowing down to kiss your forehead. “Why don’t you sleep for me, hm?”
“Will you be here when I wake up?”
“Waffles or pancakes?”
“Waffles with whipped cream.”
-
Why won’t you let me love you?
There were times when you’d fight with Carmen. A disagreement over something so, so, so small. This time, it was big. It was the opening of your gallery and he promised to be there. It was a big night—multiple art collectors and mongers from all over America came to see your latest pieces. They were all inspired by the food you grew up eating in Chicago; a collection of how culture, identities, and personalities affect eating. Your paintings were in vibrant colors—cup ramen with cheese, cannoli, food that you grew up eating whenever your mom was away. There were small details on the significance of the new collection to your life and he wasn’t there. You were on the stage, telling everyone how grateful you were to the audience but you were preoccupied, looking for a familiar mop of curls in the crowd. He didn’t come. He didn’t go. 
You smiled at them half-heartedly before leaving the stage, ready to be whisked away by some art dealer. You were whisked away by multiple guests, asking you for more details on the painting. You all told them everything they needed to know, what they should do if they’d like to make a purchase…
It would have been alright if he texted you…but he promised he’d be there. He promised he’d take you home. He promised.
-
Carmy was sitting alone in his apartment. He left The Bear earlier than usual and went straight home. He did it all, shower, put a nice suit, and fix his hair. He did it all, he even ran to the nearest florist to buy you flowers but he didn’t go. 
Isn’t this what lovers do? 
He wasn’t your lover. He couldn’t let himself be distracted again. He had to focus; he couldn’t fail the people that relied on him. He looked at the bag of groceries he got from the store; he was supposed to cook you something special tonight. Have you eaten yet? Fuck the suit that he paid for dry cleaning; fuck the flowers; fuck him. It must have hurt you—he knows that. Tonight was a big night and you were so excited to show him a painting that you’ve been working on. 
“I won’t sell it,” you told him. “I’ll have it shipped to you first thing in the morning.”
Would you still send it to him?
-
By the end of the night, you were exhausted. Happy, but exhausted. It was normal; talking to everyone and being scintillating the whole night was work but it was worth it. Your paintings all had their new owners, except for the painting that you promised to Carmy. Would he still want it? You were alone in the studio, wrapping the 4 by 3 foot canvas with the best quality glassine. You were giving this to him tomorrow. If he doesn't want to have it, you’ll probably just donate it somewhere else. 
You laid awake in your bed all night long, waiting for his text. It was funny, just last week he was begging you to tell him that you needed him but when you needed him most, he wasn’t there. 
You arrive at The Bear just before it opens, the big canvas tucked under your arm. He was sure to be there and had always told you to use the back door if you weren’t dining. You always obliged, of course, opening the backdoor to reveal everyone. You’ve met Sydney and Richie before but you haven’t met the others yet. You were an alien in an unknown world; Carmy’s employees looking at you, as if wondering who this girl was. 
“Hey,” Sydney greeted, looking at the glassine covered thing that you were carrying. “Didn’t know you were coming in today. Congratulations on your exhbit,”
“Yeah, Congrats. What’s that, sweetheart?” Richie asked. 
“Oh,” you just nodded. Carmy couldn’t even look at you. “I just came here to give this to…uh, Carmy,” you cleared your throat. “Carm…?”
“Uh, yeah-yeah,” he stuttered. “Can we go to the office?” 
“Sure.”
You followed him into the office while Richie tells everyone to go back to what they were doing. Your heart was hammering inside your chest, afraid that this was going to be another one of those petty fights that you’ve had with him. 
You were wrong. So, so wrong. 
“You didn’t come last night,” you told him, shielding yourself from him with the painting. “I…I waited.”
“Sorry,” was his laconic reply. You nodded, chuckling. 
“That’s all?” you asked. “Just…sorry? No explanation, no nothing?” you asked. “I was looking for you the whole night, Carm. You promised you were coming,”
“I don’t know what-what you want me to say,” he says, looking everywhere but at you. “I-I-I’m sorry, okay? I had other plans.”
“You promised months ago that you were coming,” you repeated. “I called Sydney last night because you weren’t answering and she told me that you left early.”
“You’re spying on me now?” he asks, suddenly defensive. “I had things to do that night. I can’t-can’t just put everything on hold for-for you.” He spits his words like venom, voice getting louder with every word.
You frowned, not recognizing who the boy was in front of you. It’s not like you asked him to put his life on hold. Your heart was beating so fast in anger, ears ringing. 
“I see. So you just need me around and you-you just I don’t know, call me because you need to get your dick wet?” you asked, matching his volume. “You just need me around when no one else is there to fuck you? Is that it?” you asked. “What the fuck?” 
Carmy blinks, tries to think of the words he’s about to say but he couldn’t stop himself. He could never seem to stop himself. 
“You’re the only one desperate enough to do so,” he shrugs. It breaks your heart in pieces, really. The nights Carmen spent nuzzling his head in your shoulder before you slept probably meant nothing to him. Your face falls, contorting in hurt at what he just said. Fuck Carmen Berzatto. Fuck him. “I’m not your fucking boyfriend. I don’t know why you expect me to just-just-just do something!”
“Maybe I wanted you there as my friend!” you shouted over. Your voices could be heard from outside but everyone else pretended like they weren’t listening to anything that you both were saying. You were shouting over each other now, the fuse just breaks. “If you didn’t have any fucking plans to actually go, then don’t give me your good for nothing fucking promises!”
“I don’t need a girl leeching on me when I’m opening a fucking restaurant. Do you want me to put everything on you just because you asked me to? I’m not your fucking boyfriend. You know that right? And maybe-maybe I don’t want to be your fucking friend either!”
“Why would I want you to be my boyfriend, Carmy? You’re-you’re fucking unreliable! You have issues that need fixing. You think Claire could fix that? You think I could fix that? You think the girls you get wrapped around your fucking finger can fix your fucked up fucking head? Huh? Is that what you think? You’re so fucking miserable you make everyone around you miserable! Grow up!” He’s hurt. That’s what you thought of him? That he was miserable? Did he make you miserable?
“I don’t need to go to your fucking art exhibition when they’re all fucking shit.”
You closed your mouth before you could protest. The pain of his words felt like a slap on the face. If he regretted it, he didn’t show it. You turned away, nodding. 
“Fuck you, Carmen. Don’t fucking call me. Don’t fucking knock on my door. Don’t…don’t fucking think of me. I’m fucking done with you,”
“Yeah? You’re done with me, huh? Fuck you,” he spits back. He heard the waver in your voice; heard how you tried to steady everything. He wanted to say sorry but you were already leaving. Richie and Sydney couldn’t even ask you what happened because you were rushing out, throwing the painting you worked hard on for days at the back. Fuck Carmen Berzatto. Fuck him. 
-
“Fuck!” his chefs could hear from outside the office. Everyone heard the vile things you both screamed at each other; everyone heard why you were so angry. Everyone fucking heard. Nobody dared to move, they didn’t want to be on the receiving end of Carmy’s anger; not when The Bear was about to open. Continuous loud bangs and sounds of some object being thrown were heard too. Sugar sighed. 
“Carm?” she called from the door. “It’s almost opening,”
“I-I-I know, Sug.” he replied, blinking. “Uh, can-can you guys go ahead? I’ll be there, I just-just need to you know, calm down?”
“Okay, Bear,” she smiles, tapping the door frame before leaving Carmen in his own thoughts. He gets out of the restaurant through the back door, about to light a cigarette, when he sees the canvas wrapped with glassine. 
“Fuck,” was the only thing he could mutter before taking it and sitting where the staff usually stayed at when they wanted a break. He lights up a stick and lets it hang loose on his lips while he opens your gift with shaky hands. He was so immersed in the experience, gently removing the tape and making sure that nothing was ruined that he didn’t notice Sydney. 
The glassine reveals a painting of a plate of cannolis. He remembered that he told you the story about cannolis during Christmas and how he wanted to recreate that—take it for himself. He traces over the precise brushstrokes shakily. 
“That’s a good painting,” Sydney spoke, her hands behind her back. “Would be a waste to just throw it out.”
“I know,” Carmy nods. “I’m sorry you had to uh, hear all of that.”
“It’s…something,” Sydney replied, making Carmy chuckle. 
“I always…always seem to uh, fuck up everything,” he muttered. “I was on the way there, you know? Last night?”
“Yeah. You were so excited,”
“I was,” he coughed. “But I didn’t go because…” Words died down in his mouth. Why didn’t he go? “I’ve said some things and she-she doesn’t want me to call her anymore and I-I understand but like, I don’t know, Syd.”
Don’t know why I could never seem to just let myself enjoy things. I don’t belong anywhere else but in the fucking kitchen. It’s the only thing I was good at.
“I didn’t really want to to, uh, fuck this up.”
-
I want to talk to you.
Come to my apartment after your shift. Or whenever.
Carmen feels his palms sweat when he reads  texts you sent him days ago. He decided to go today, finally—he was never good at confronting things; always so explosive, so defensive. He didn’t know what he’d feel like today. He knocks on your door and hears the shuffling from the other side. He just got out of The Bear; he was tired but he forced himself to go. He had to go. 
“Hey,” you smiled tightly when you opened the door. “Come in.”
He nods, wordlessly entering your apartment like how henused to. Bag and shoes on the side. Somehow, this made him more nervous than usual. This was a prelude to something else entirely; he believed that.
“How are you? he asked, voice small and looking down. 
“I’m…good,” you replied, looking away. “You?”
“Busy,” he replied. The air felt heavy and his palms were sweating. “I’m…I’m sorry for not being there when I promised you that I would,”
“Why weren’t you there, Carm?” you asked and he could hear the sadness in your voice. He knew that your exhibit meant a lot to you. “You…you told me you will and well, you were…the-the person I want to be there the most.”
“I didn’t know that. I’m- I’m sorry,” he shrugged. “But why? I mean, I-I don’t know art. I like my shit but I-I’m not cool or understand—“
“Because I like you, Carmy.” you told him, looking at him now and trying to go nearer. He stepped back and you stopped your tracks.
“You—what?” he asked, shaking his head furiously; like your confession offended him. “You…like me.”
“I do,” you nodded. “But…it doesn’t matter.”
“Fuck. How many times do we have to go back to this very same place for you to understand?” he asked, running a hand through his hair. He told you before that he didn’t want to date. You told him you understood. You told him he was being egotistic when he told you not to get attached. He wanted to leave. He didn’t expect this to happen—he didn’t want this to happen. “I don’t—I don’t—“
“Carmy,” you cautioned him, trying to ease your beating heart. “Can you listen to me? I-I-I like you, okay and I’ve been thinking about it too. I’m—you’re always staying behind after sex and well, I just maybe thought that you liked me too.” You replied, swallowing his rejection for now.
“I don’t,” he snaps, tone sharp. “We’ll both be miserable in a relationship. I’ll never make-make you happy. You’re right, you know? I’m unreliable and-and-and issues that I need to fix…and I’m not the one you’re looking for,”
“I’m sorry for saying that. It wasn’t my place to do so,” was your meek reply. How does he feel so far away when he feels so, so, so close?
“No, uh,” Carmen blinks, shaking his head. “It’s fine. I-I-I needed to hear those things, you know? I’m sorry too…for everything.”
“Thank you.”
“That’s it then?” he asked. He was distressed. How could he fuck this up after telling Sydney that he didn’t want to fuck things up with you? “I…I had fun,” You were the only one who kept me afloat when everything else turned to shit. I missed you when we stopped talking. I should have fought harder. What else could I have done?
“Fun,” you chuckled bitterly. “Fun…that’s the only thing you’re going to say to me?”
Carmy frowned. 
“What else did you want me to say?”
“I don’t know, Carmy!” you exclaimed, pacing back and forth but never towards him. “God! Tell me that I’m important to you. Tell me that I’ll still be your friend…tell me that you—that you—that I mean more than a fuck!”
Silence. Carmy couldn’t find the words to tell you what you truly meant to him…that he wanted what you wanted too but he was too scared to fuck it all up again like he did with Claire.
You nodded, looking away. You breathed in deeply, as if trying to relieve yourself of the hurt. That’s all you’ve ever meant to him. 
“You lead me along and it’s fine. I know that it’s my fault for wanting other things but at least…at least tell me that I’ll still be your friend; that I still matter to you even if I dug myself a hole by feeling things. Tell me that you still need me to put everything on hold for you because I’ve been waiting you to call me all day…”
“I don’t want you to do that. I don’t want you putting your life on hold for me,” he rasps. “I don’t…”
“But what if I wanted to?” you asked, face slightly contorted because you didn’t want to be so vulnerable in front of him. Not when he hasn’t told you what you wanted yet. Carmy was just looking at you, tapping his foot on the floor. It was a nervous habit that he developed. Fuck, he needed a cigarette.
“Can you, uh, leave?” you asked, voice low. “I…” 
“No, no, no,” he begs, rushing towards you. He grabs a hold of your elbows to remind you that he was there. Would it mean anything? Would his touch convey all of the words he wanted to say? 
“Carm…” your voice breaks. “Carm…”
“No, no. You’re not just that to me,” he reassures “But you have to understand that-that I can’t love you like that.”
“Carmen, please…” you beg, tears brimming in your eyes. “Please…just, just leave,”
You’ve never asked him to leave before but it seemed like it was what you really wanted—like it was what you really needed. He nods, kissing your head softly before detaching himself from you. 
“I’m sorry,” Carmy said. “For-for not saying the right, uh, things.”
“Yeah,” you nod, hiding yourself from him. He hated that you had to do that when you’ve cried on his shoulders multiple times. He never liked seeing you cry; he just didn’t know that one day, he’ll be on the receiving end of your sadness. He watches you rub your forehead, biting your lip to stop yourself from crying. If you started crying, would he stay?
-
It’s been months since Carmy left. He’s been in his best form in the kitchen. He was making things easier for his staff; he was working twenty four hours a day. Going to The Bear early to help with prep; staying late to help them clean after a long shift of cooking and cooking and kitchen tours. He’s been getting acclaim—more acclaim, really. There was a waiting list on his restaurant and positive reviews from left and right flooded in. The Bear was dubbed as “The Restaurant of the Year” in Chicago despite being less than a year old. 
He’s been doing good—perfect. 
It was like he was a hamster in a fucking wheel with no other way to escape. He likes putting himself in gear, like driving fast because it makes him believe that nothing really hurts him. He didn’t like being at home; it reminded him too much of you. It reminded him of when you’d lean on the kitchen counter, a small smile on your lips while you watched him cook you something. He didn’t like sitting on the couch because it reminded him of when he slept with his head on your lap. He didn’t like it in his bedroom because he’s reminded of that night when you pulled him closer in your sleep. He didn’t like The Bear because the painting that you gave him hung so proudly by the dining area. It was marvellous—they said. How was he able to get a painting that you did when your art was so valuable and in demand? 
He was moving so fast so you wouldn’t cross his mind but it seemed like no matter what he did, he'd end up thinking about you anyway. 
It didn’t matter, how come a fall like that made him feel like flying? Maybe he’s waiting for it to hit him but he was feeling alright. 
He was alright. 
“Chef!” Sydney called, looking at Carmen who was chopping the vegetables like a madman. “Carmen!”
“Fuck, what, Sydney?!” he asked, slamming his knife on the counter. 
“You’re bleeding,” Marcus told him and Carmen looked down, blood was all over the chopping board. “You’ve been bleeding for a few seconds now…we’ve all been calling your name, Chef.” 
“Fuck, I-I-I’m…” Carmen was a blubbering mess, just watching his hand bleed like it didn’t matter. “I’m-I’m,”
“Take a break, Carm,” Sydney says but her partner just shakes his head. “Carm—“
“Sydney, don’t—don’t make me take a fucking break, please.”
“You’ll need to clean up and make sure there’s no more blood,” Sydney told him. “I’m not fucking around,”
“Yeah,” he nods, putting his fist over his heart and drawing circles. Sydney nods and Carmy fixes his station. 
He couldn’t stop shaking, though. Even Tina saw how his hand trembled. What the fuck?
“Carmen,” 
“Yeah…just…just give me a second, please.” he nods, picking his knife again and doing everything perfectly. Like clockwork. He’s back. He’s back. He’s fine. I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m alright. 
PART 2
AN: Thank you for the love! This is going to be a two-part fic because I love how everything is right now… Don’t forget to comment / reblog if you like it! I read every single little thing you guys type…even the hashtags.
TAGLIST: @kpopgirlbtssvt @morgthemagpie @hal3ynicol3 @1800-queen-trash
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hellfire--cult · 8 months
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Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader {Dark}
Part 2: Run, Rabbit, Run {Steddie x Reader}
WC: 13.1 k
⚠️ +18 MDNI, Slightly dark fic due to wickedness of characters, chasing kink, mentions of bones breaking, tendons splitting, dark woods, blood, knife play, explicit sexual scenes, many forms of Paraphilia described inside the story, owning kink, breeding kink, obsession.
Plot: Once a year, the Haunting Ground event takes place, where the prize is a White Rabbit. This year, the head of The Black Dragons decides to finally join the trial, and claim what is rightfully his. No matter who he has to take down for it.
Author's note: Well shit, I just... wanted to write something out of my comfort zone, and well... this happened. If I missed any warnings please say so, but I hope you enjoy this, and if you don't like any of the warnings above, please, don't read. There isn't any gore at all, js. Also, I didn't proofread this. Please SEE THIS ART of how Eddie ACTUALLY looks in this story. Can't thank Corpse enough for it!
You can always support me by hitting the reblog button with tags, and I always enjoy reading your comments!
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BUNNY, BUNNY, BUNNY
The rules are simple:
1- You must keep running, only hide when threatened.
2- You can hurt your opponent, make them unable to keep moving, but you cannot kill them.
3- No water and no food will be provided.
4- No weapons except makeshift ones you may create with natural materials you find.
5- The chase ends once everyone has tapped out of it or one person was chosen.
6- Medical care will take out injured opponents, as well as waiting outside every exit in the woods.
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He looked all around him in the big wide center of the room, a ball room. There was a big buffet, serving various kinds of foods to fill a whole army, as well as drinks, non alcoholic, were being served around. He scanned all around him, looking at the various masks everyone wore.
A wolf.
A fox.
A blank face.
A goat.
A clown.
There were many varieties, many kinds but mostly were in animal masks. Coming to this kind of event was not something he ever thought of doing, at least not by his own accord. But here he was, in a demon mask, a black skull that covered half of his face, with its black horns going up. He stood out, definitely stood out, and he noticed by all the faces turning towards him. 
He was recognizable, his dark hair tied in a bun, his lips under the top sharp teeth of the skull mask, his eyes showing in the holes of the eye sockets, and then, unlike anyone else in the room, he was only wearing a blazer over his torso, leaving his skin exposed. People looked at him as if he were insane for doing this stunt, others thought he was cocky for trying to think he had a chance dressed like that, but others were simply scared of him.
Tonight, his name was Demon.
He glanced around once more to see the many different people he clearly recognized. Sons of rich families, looking for some fun, for some sense of victory that they can just get with daddy’s money. He also recognized the rings of various people that were only hired to enter this competition and win the prize for their boss. And then, there was him. The only Mafia Boss entering the competition, and that’s why everyone was looking at him.
Mafia bosses don’t often do the dirty work unless it’s a very important client, business or victim. In this case, there was a treasure he wanted, something he had been intrigued by ever since it was mentioned to him, and all he had to do was step over everyone else that was standing in this room with him. 
There might be forty people, all waiting for the presentation to finally start. He knew the time to go out was coming close, so they should do it any time soon. A man stood next to him, and he immediately recognized his voice. Carver Jr. Son of the CEO of Kirasoft. Inc. 
“I am telling you, this year she is getting caught, man.” He hears him say to the other guy next to him, who he didn’t recognize, but probably from the same rich kind of family.
“Can’t believe it’s been the same White Rabbit for three years… How did she manage to do it?”
The lights dimmed and he looked up at the ceiling, knowing there was a specific light that was above him, making him visible even in the dim room. He smirked and looked back down towards the stairs that lead down to the ballroom. He sees the man, the man who hosts this event, the man who gets the money of every single person that pays to participate. 
“Welcome to the annual Haunting Ground night.” Claps were heard around Demon, but his hands were kept inside his front pockets as he waited for the man to continue his stupid speech. “Every year we host this marvelous game, in which there is a prize to be won, a marvelous prize.”
The snicker in the man’s face made Demon’s blood boil, as his hands fisted in his pockets. The need to murder him, the need to see his flesh gush out as he talked was increasing, each second it passed. He looked around again, seeing all the women, the men, the people with masks, smiling with confidence towards the stage. 
“Hearing the rules for a third time is quite annoying.” Demon hears a woman talk next to him to another contestant. She had a deer mask on, her whole face covered so he didn’t know who she was, but it didn’t matter, none of the people inside the room mattered, the only one that did was the person in all white that was going to appear at the top of the stairs. 
And no one, absolutely no one, was getting her except him.
“The rules, you all know about them, but I want to remind you about the emergency beeper you all will have in your pocket. If endangered, if in extreme pain, or you just want to tap out of the contest, you press it, and the emergency team will know your location and come get you.” The man says and Demon only rolled his eyes to the sky, knowing he won’t be using it, but actually making other people use it.
The fact that he couldn’t bring any weapons irked him. He always thought things like this would end in blood baths, but they were being pretty humane about this. Yet, he wanted to murder every single person in this room at the moment, because how dare they even try to steal her away from him? Not that he didn’t kill a few past contestants from the past two years. He heard from the men that participated, that some had grabbed the White Rabbit, just by an inch, but a scratch here and there was done to her skin.
Of course he wasn’t going to let them go unharmed for that.
“If you endanger someone to the point of killing them, you will be disqualified and brought to authorities.” Demon scoffed at that. He has the police wrapped around his finger, and there is nothing anyone can do about it, but he will keep his hands to himself, as much as he can, just so he wouldn’t be disqualified from this. 
He could hear the whispers surrounding him, and also knew that they were about him. He was the most dangerous person amongst the people, and if anyone had a gram of brain cells, they would let him get the prize. But of course, he knows many will try to defeat him, try to throw him to the ground, hurt him, because there are also people from families he had destroyed during the years, just like his uncle did in the past. 
Being the nephew of one of the biggest Mafia bosses didn’t mean anything, you weren’t automatically feared or respected just for being a direct link, a family member. You were respected when you were entrusted with the men, the organization and the operations at such a young age, and even more so, when you are not merciful at all, except when needed to. 
Demon never hurt women or children, and the only time he had to kill a woman was because she had backstabbed his uncle, almost to the point of killing him. She was his right hand, but all this time, even if killing for him, she was planning on taking over him, completely over stepping on Demon. He found her taking out her gun when they were in a transaction between crews, and got her in time before she could actually take it out. His uncle fought that she was protecting him, but Demon saw how she was looking at the back of his uncle’s head, right as she got her hand inside her coat. 
She was operating for the other crew they were doing a transaction with.
So of course, Demon immediately took care of it, eliminating her in front of her brother, the other boss that was sitting in front of his uncle, just so that he knows they are not to mess with. And Demon did all that, at the mere age of 17. Now, at 28 years old, he was a man to be feared, respected by many, and to never try to backstab him, in any sort of form or way. 
But three years ago, he got fixated on something, on someone, when he visited the house of the Red Flies, the second most known Mafia family in the eastern states. He knew he was obsessed, he knew that he shouldn’t even try to get her, but he was immediately swept by her presence, by her voice, by her eyes, in a way no one had made him feel before. This only happened when he locked eyes with her, a small smile appearing on her face, and he knew, he immediately knew, that she was meant to be his.
She was going to be his, no matter the cost.
“Everyone, I present to you, the White Rabbit.” 
And there she was, at the top of the staircase, with a spotlight over her head, the white rabbit mask covering half her face, with the ears going up to the ceiling. She was wearing a white short dress that stuck to the body but was loose at the end. Her lips were drawn into a thin line, as everyone was clapping at her, in awe, with desire in their eyes as well as ambition and greediness. 
The reason why everyone wanted the White Rabbit was simple. They were from a high, a very high association, be it a company or a mafia gang, but they wanted out of that. The White Rabbit holds the power of bribery towards bosses, as well as threats and blackmail. More likely daughters and sons that want to destroy their own lineage. 
Many people here knew who the White Rabbit was, but just by name, even if three years had passed. She was never caught, and she never gave herself to anyone because that can also be done. The White Rabbit can willingly choose who to go with if they so desire. And that’s why Demon was with a smile to his face, his jacket still open as he looked at the White Rabbit. She was scanning the room, looking at all the contestants and then, her eyes landed on a torso, her eyes hazing over as she kept staring at his chest.
You see, Demon also possessed that knowledge, and of course, he studied her, knowing more than her name. Over the last three years he had sent his own men to participate in the trial, but with no intention of winning but just to see what the participants did and how she moved in the woods. 
Demon knew her name, how she looked like, the sound of her voice, who her father was, and also, he knows the things she likes, the things she desires, the things that make her tremble, and that’s why he is exposing his torso, and as she kept her eyes on him, a small grin appearing on her face, her tongue licking her bottom lip even slightly as her eyes clouded with pure lust, her mouth watering just at the pure sight of his tattooed chest and even more when he suddenly takes his tongue out, running his tongue piercing all over his top lip.
Stigmatophilia: Sexual Arousal for body modifications, such as piercings or tattoos.
“Always looking like a diamond in the rough.” He heard Carver say, almost a mumble, and Demon’s blood was boiling already. How dare he look at her? How dare he even think he has a chance? How dare he touch or imagine touching something that was his? How fucking dare he even comment on his prize? 
“We all know how this goes. The White Rabbit will have an upper hand of five minutes to infiltrate the woods. Do not, by any means, hurt the White Rabbit. If the White Rabbit is caught, the decision to go with that person for a limited time, or to be completely owned, is up to them.” Demon smirked at those words. There is a contract the White Rabbit has to sign before submitting themselves as the prey. If they decide they want to do a temporary ownership of their body, then the contract is not signed by the captor. But if they do decide for a complete ownership of body and soul, the contract will be signed by both parties, kind of like a marital contract.
This was all in the Mafia organization of course, it’s not legal, but it is something to be respected in between the groups and companies. Demon does not like this idea, because no person should be owned, no person should be held like an animal, no person should be treated like an object. But in the White Rabbit’s eyes, he saw that longing, he saw the need of belonging to someone, of being owned. 
And he was more than happy to oblige.
“Do you think this year is the year? Will she get caught?” He heard the woman next to him, and for the first time in the night, he finally talked, with a gruff voice coming out of his lips.
“She will.”
The people around him all turned with widened eyes, shocked faces behind their masks, as whispers erupted all around them. He was still locking eyes with the White Rabbit, whose smile was still on her lips, almost a snicker, a wicked grin, and he couldn’t wait to start running, he couldn’t wait to start chasing, his body was already trembling at the need of wanting to earn his prize.
“No more food, no more water. The trial starts now… Rabbit… Run.” The host finally said and Demon saw how the light over her head turned off, and in two seconds it lit up again, only for her to be gone. “Get ready and line up to the edge of the woods.”
At his queue everyone started heading out of the ballroom, but Demon just walked, calmly, hands still in his blazer pockets, heading towards the big doors and finally being hit with the wind of the night, the sound of the leaves ruffling all around and the trees merging up in front of him, a sea of trunks and bushes that he will have to run through. 
He stood next to Carver, who was already in a stance of pounce, waiting for the sound of the gun so they could all start running. Demon slowly took off his blazer, throwing it in the ground, revealing his completely tattooed torso, with many ink designs such as dragons, or skulls, or demons, and they go all over his arms and back as well. There are some patches of untouched skin, but overall, he is completely covered in them. 
The many people that stood next to him on each side were looking at him, gulping, except for Carver who simply rolled his eyes at him. Demon looked up at the full moon that was going to help him look through the deep woods, the light that he knew how to follow to keep a steady pace, and the shadows that would help him knock down any person that might come in his way. 
After a minute, he saw the man, the host, walking up on the balcony of the building, his silhouette shining with the moonlight as he raised the flare gun up. Demon took a deep breath in from his nose, getting his hair up in a low ponytail, calmly, as his chest rose and fell with his breaths. His eyes gazed back to the woods, a small grin appearing on his face as he fixed the rings that were on his right hand.
BANG.
His fist immediately collided with Carver’s Jaw, sending him backwards, and the only thing that could be heard was the crack of teeth and a gurgled grunt as he fell to the floor. He quickly turned to grab onto the ponytail of the woman that had screamed at the vicious act, the woman with the deer mask on, pulling her back towards his chest. He wrapped his right hand over the woman’s neck and her hands immediately flew to his forearm, trying to break free.
“Let ME GO!” She yelled with a choke and he scoffed with a roll of his eyes when he raised his left hand up, pressing it at the back of her hand to bend it forward and then with his right arm he started pressing onto the sides of her neck to start cutting her blood flow towards her brain. 
Her body started to go limp and when he felt her arms fall from him, he instantly let go of her, letting her fall to the ground, completely unconscious. He doesn’t hurt women. It will take more time if he does this trick every single time, but even if they try to go after him, he won’t hurt them. Many had already taken off, but some, a very few, stayed to look at what he’s done. 
One by one, they started backing up back into the house as they saw Carver’s mouth going slack as he tried to talk, making Demon turn to throw a wicked grin his way. The blonde man took the beeper out of his pocket and groaned as he pressed the button to finally call assistance. Once Demon heard the beep, he took off running into the woods. 
His blood was pumping with adrenaline, his breathing steady as he rushed by the trees, jumping over boulders, hearing some screams and passing by some men injuring one another. When he arrived at a cleared up area, he stopped running at the sound of some bushes rustling, right next to him, the crack of a twig catching his attention. 
He instantly jumped forward when he saw the bushes finally moving and a man, a bigger man than he is, jumped out of them and onto him, but missed thanks to Demon's premeditated step. The big man steadied himself, wearing a bear mask as he glared at him, a sly smirk on his lips. 
“Well, well, well… Didn’t think the Boss of the Black Dragon would be in a thing like this. Don’t you have many women to choose from?” The Bear chuckled at his words but Demon only grimaced at them. He thinks The White Rabbit can be compared to any woman? To any person? 
“If you want all your limbs in the same place, you would close that mouth of yours.” Demon threatens but Bear only belly laughs at him, shaking his head.
“It’s just you. You know, your uncle really fucked me over with my company.” At those words, Demon could only roll his eyes, not wanting to waste another second in this mindless conversation.
“You probably didn’t pay up in time, or, if I remember correctly, didn’t you kill your wife?” He remembers the deal. This man, and his wife, were going to share half and half of the credit The Black Dragon crew was giving them. The wife asked for a divorce, which would have made the contract void, and the money had to be returned in its entirety to the organization. She had her half untouched, he didn’t. She was going to be free, he wasn’t. 
So in his anger, he killed her, making it seem like suicide to the legal eye, but to the organizations he was seen as a murderer. Now, seeing him in this trial, wanting to get the White Rabbit, Demon felt his blood burning up in anger, because he wasn’t going to let a man like him get her… He wasn’t going to let a man like him get any other woman or person.
“She killed herself. I made that very clear.” The Bear’s face fell, as he clenched his fists next to his hips. Demon knew what was going to happen, so he fixed the bloody rings on his right hand again, his smile spreading knowing it was Carver’s blood. 
“You won’t get her.” Demon says in a dead tone, which the bigger man only chuckled at, unamused, and he took a step forward, and Demon only cracked his neck once. 
“We’ll see about that.” And the first fist was thrown by The Bear, only to be dodged easily by Demon, moving aside. He raised his leg up and immediately hit the bigger man at the right shin with his combat boot. The Bear groaned loudly, turning his whole body to tackle Demon into the ground, his upper body slamming with Demon’s torso, sending him to the floor with the big man on top of him.
He cursed under his breath as the air in his lungs got knocked out slightly thanks to the impact, feeling a sharp sting on his shoulder, making his eyes go wide and groan in pain, looking at the side. The Bear cheated, a small swiss knife now was on Demon’s shoulder, pressed by the man that was on top of him. 
“I see you’re still playing fucking dirty.” Demon almost but snarls at the man on top of him who only laughed out loud and shook his head at the words.
“You don’t get anything in life if you don’t do it my way. My wife knew that, yet, she decided she wanted to fuck me over.” He was laughing, and Demon’s veins were popping out from the anger, from the rage, from the images of this man’s hands over your body, tracing his knife on your skin until he could bury it into the deepest of your gut if you made a wrong move.
His left hand was free to roam, and he grabbed onto a small boulder that was on the floor, immediately clenching his fingers around it to throw his arm up, swinging it towards the man’s head, making him yell in pain as the rock busted his ear and ripped open the skin on his temple. He fell to the side, holding his side of the head in pain while Demon sat up in one quick movement, taking the swiss knife out of his shoulder and throwing it away. Wasting no time, he lunged himself over the other man’s figure.
He was now on top, having won the wrestling match, or the kid fight he just had, and the man below him yelled for mercy, which made Demon only grin wider and wider, knowing that he was a step closer to his prize. In one swift move he pressed his knee against the man’s thigh, while his hand grabbed onto his calf, pulling it upwards, and he just needed one snap, he can at least make it quick for the guy below him.
SNAP. CRACK.
“MY FUCKING LEG!” The Bear yelled below him, only for Demon to scoff at his cries. He stood up and walked off the wailing man who was already taking out his beeper to call for medical care. Demon grabbed onto the beeper, a glare in his eyes as he looked at the man below him.
“After this, you better hide… Because I will kill you.” He threw the beeper far away from The Bear. He would have to crawl with his broken leg to get it, making that task torturous to say the least. 
“P-Please, spare me– This is just a game–” Demon pressed his foot onto the man’s broken leg, and another yell of pain could be heard through the open field. 
“No. You should have noticed that this is not a game to me, and you should have known that messing with me today would be a very bad choice.” He let go of the man, stepping away. The Bear’s face was stained from the tears of pain he was induced to, but Demon could care less. 
The black haired man immediately took off again, running through the bushes as he heard a few screams and yells of victory. His mentality started spiraling as he felt himself growing impatient by how long this was going to take. If he had to take out every single contestant he was going to end up doing a massacre and that was against the rules.
Because he would kill for The White Rabbit.
He was hearing many beeping sounds around him, some grunts and people that were writhing on the ground in pain as he walked by. So many were with broken bones, some had scratches all over their bodies and that’s when he remembered the wound on his shoulder. He looked at it as he walked, moving his shoulder in circles to see if it caused any damage. He scoffed and chuckled as he noticed he could still move his arm freely even if the wound was open. 
The bastard couldn’t even aim a knife right. He didn’t really deserve to live, not if he is going to threaten death right in the face and expect to come out alive from it. That’s what Demon was. Death. Crossing him meant bargaining with life, and backstabbing him with treason meant instant death. He didn’t do most of the dirty work, only when it’s necessary and when he would get pleasure from it, and that man he just fought, he wasn’t going to be killed by a stranger in his organization. Demon was going to cut his head off himself.
He stopped walking when he heard a rustle, but it wasn’t on any of his sides. He turned his body, scanning all over when he heard it again. He smirked as he put his hands in the front of his pockets, his heart beating into his chest from the adrenaline and from the excitement of getting closer and closer to his objective.
“You should come down from the trees.”
A small giggle could be heard from his back as he slowly turned to finally see the person he wanted most climbing down from a tree. Her white dress flowed with some white shorts underneath, but the white was now smudged with some dirt, and some blood as well. Her white ears moved as she tilted her head at him, scanning him all over, her body rocking on the balls of her feet.
“Your ears are very perceptive.” 
 “You’re just too loud.” He says in a low voice, watching the White Rabbit start moving, circling him, with her hands behind her back, swaying her head from side to side as if humming a song. His head followed her, seeing her bare feet covered in mud as the leaves crunched under them. 
“Hmm… Someone got you.” She says, pointing at the wound on his shoulder, in which he simply shrugs as if to show her that he wasn’t fazed by it.
“By playing dirty.” She hummed again as she looked down at the floor, still circling all around him as if inspecting him, scanning him, and her mouth watered at every single patch of skin she saw inked. She was already imagining what his legs looked like, and she was already trembling with the idea of using her nails to give him new scars.
“Are you here to get me?” She asks him, finally stopping right in front of him, just a few feet away, her hands still behind her back with a grin on her face. He took his hands out of his front pockets, letting them hang on his sides.
“To claim you.” She tilted her head at his voice, her smile widening, creepily so, as her eyes glistened with sudden excitement and adrenaline and Demon knew what was coming, because he had studied the White Rabbit after all.
“You’ll have to catch me first.” And she turned on her heel, and sprinted off into the darkness of the woods, and Demon’s teeth showed as his wicked grin grew, and grew.
Autassassinophilia: Sexual arousal when being in a dangerous situation, such as being chased, or wanted for murder.
His feet started working, running forward to where The White Rabbit went, listening to far cries that were deep into the woods, and he wondered just how many other people were left, not that it mattered, because he already won. He knew he already won when he decided to sign up for this trial. He knew he had won the moment he stepped into the ballroom. He knew he had won when she had smiled at him, right at the top of the marbled stairs.
He stopped running when he came into an empty spot, surrounded by trees, looking all around him. His eyes twitched as he tried to listen to the sounds, knowing now that it was just him and her. He was preying on her as much as she was preying on him. He knew she was circling him, his little rabbit, trying to be sneaky, but a twig was heard from his left side and his feet immediately moved to that sound.
Long strides were taken thanks to his long legs, his belt clinking as he ran, going past the trees once again. He ran in between trunks, jumping over the fallen logs, but his eyes sparkled when he heard a giggle from behind him, making him stop in his tracks, turning around rapidly to see her retreating figure, running away from him. A smirk appeared on his lips. She had run past him and he didn’t notice.
He started running after her, deciding to swerve left, going deep into the woods again, no longer following behind her. She kept running, her breathing completely accelerated, her belly turning with anticipation, with adrenaline, with arousal, with desire. Oh, she wanted him. She had waited, and waited. But his footsteps were no longer heard behind her, making the White Rabbit stop, turning around to try to listen to her surroundings.
He wasn’t following her, did she run too fast? Did he lose sight of her? But she was sure she was hearing him behind her, not even five seconds ago. She took one step, then another, passing by a tree but she stopped her movements again, her eyes widening, goosebumps emerging on her skin as she slowly turned her head to see the figure that was just behind the tree, waiting for her.
“Caught you.” 
Demon immediately pounced on her, grabbing onto her shoulders and tackling her to the ground, a crazed smile on his face as she struggled to get free, but it was already done. He was on top of her, his calves over her thighs to pin her down while his hands were on her biceps now, digging deeply, pushing her onto the ground. She was panting heavily as she opened her eyes to finally see the man that was on top of her.
“Dirty.” She spats and he scoffs, licking inside his bottom lip as she relaxes under his hold. A small smile appeared on her lips, the moonlight shining through the woods, just enough for him to see her. He took one hand away from her bicep, getting hold of the bottom of her mask, pulling it up to finally reveal that beautiful face he got mesmerized with three years ago, at a simple meeting. That face that told him, we’re equal. That face that told him, I will serve you if given the chance. That face that he wanted to see, everyday, at every hour, for as long as he lives. That face that claimed him that same night, with a smile, with the stares, with the intense stare in the eyes.
You.
“Hello, Bunny.” That was your nickname in your father’s organization. Bunny. Too pure, too innocent, too charming, yet, you were the complete opposite. You were nasty, you were evil, you were vengeful, you were a freak. A complete and utter freak. And he was the same, he was your exact same, and you were expectant of him. You were waiting for him to appear. You were in this trial behind your father’s back for three years, because you wanted him. You wanted the man that had whispered in your ear ‘You’ll be mine.’ three years ago. You wanted the man that’s been said to have killed and destroyed many organizations and the members inside of them. You wanted the man that you knew could own you, yet, wouldn’t cage you.
Your fingertips from your free hand raised up, finally touching the teeth of the black demon mask he was wearing, first grazing it, gently, as if taking in this moment with him, this moment where everything will change, this moment where your life will finally become yours, and his. You gripped onto the mask and finally lifted it up, and he helped by bending down slightly so you could rip it off his face, throwing the plastic far away from you both.
“Munson.” A smile appeared on your face as you saw him, your cheeks flushing at his sight, as if you were a bitch in heat in front of her master, and you weren’t far from it. You knew Eddie owned you that same night you met him, and he also knew you were meant to be his. 
“What are those?” He asked, placing a hand on your waist where a stain was on your dress, a shiver running down your spine as a soft moan escaped your throat, knowing his hand was covered in ink and touching you.
“I might have snapped a few tendons here and there… Putting the competition away for you…” Your eyes were already looking up at him with desire, with the need of being alone with him, of him claiming you, completely. He smirked down towards you, leaning down to talk closely onto your face.
“What’s your choice, Bunny?” He softly asks, his eyes hinting of desperation, but also insecurity of some sort, but he didn’t have to worry. He shouldn’t, because you are his, you’ve always been his.
“I’ll stay with you, forever, if you’ll have me.” His eyes widened slightly with emotion, his gut turning at your words and his hand flew to grab onto your jaw, harshly, to pull you towards his lips, into a messy yet wanton kiss. A kiss that he had been craving for far too long. You moaned onto his lips, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he finally let your thighs go, his calves resting on the floor now. 
His teeth caught onto your bottom lip, and you could already feel the iron taste filling your mouth, knowing he was piercing your skin, but that only made your thighs clench with eachother even more, wetness pooled inside your shorts as his actions showed you that he studied you, that he knew you, and he knew what you were into. He pulled away from you, licking his lips from your blood as he looked down, seeing your bottom lip with your red tint, blood coming out from the inside of it. 
“You’re mine. I’m going to protect you Bunny, I’m not letting anyone take you away from me, and if they dare come close… I’ll kill them, you say the word… And I’ll kill everyone you tell me to.” A soft smile spread on your face as you looked at him, crazed and wild eyes staring at each other as your grip on his shoulders tightened, and a firework was shot into the sky, but you two didn’t move. Just stared into each other's eyes. 
You’re free.
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Your hands gripped on your last bag with the remaining clothes you had. A smile on your face the whole time the elevator dinged closer and closer to Eddie’s penthouse, one of the many properties he possesses. You hadn’t changed, still wearing the white stained dress over your body, but the people that organized this trial had already sent your prepared luggage to Eddie’s, meaning that the only thing left to deliver was you.
The ding didn’t even startle you as the doors opened, and a big double door greeted you a few steps away from the metal confinement. You stepped towards it, and grabbed onto the handle, finding the door open. A smile appeared on your face as you opened it, walking in to take in the immense decorated space in modern yet vintage looking furniture. You put your bag down, closing the door behind you as you stepped inside the apartment, seeing that it had stairs going up to a second floor. 
You were looking around, knowing that he should be here somewhere. After he had caught you, you were brought into the office to sign off the permanent contract to him, with a smile to your face all the while. The host was simply looking at you as if you were insane, because being owned by the Black Dragon association was not something many desired, much less, being owned by the boss of it.
Eddie was sent home so you could gather your bags, and those bags you saw at the very corner of the living room. You heard something in the kitchen, making you tilt your head slightly at the sound, like a rattle, so you followed it, walking into the dimmed light kitchen, modern, with the cupboards and utilities in black, against the white marble counters, but your eyes centered on the person that was pouring two glasses of wine, in the middle of the room.
“Hello again darling.” He put the wine bottle on the counter and his eyes finally looked up to lock with yours. He was still shirtless, still with the same bloody clothes, the wound in his shoulder already stitched and bandaged, and your mouth salivated with the need of pressing your tongue onto his skin. His hair was down, eyes a deep brown that only made you move by instinct, slowly approaching him with your hands behind your back.
Like a small bunny.
“This house is a little big for you.” You say as you stand next to him, grabbing onto the wine glass and taking a small sip from it, the burning of the alcohol soothing your throat and calming your nerves. Nerves that were there because you waited so long to be with him, alone, like this. Completely owned by him, his property, his partner. 
“Glad that you are filling it with me now.” He says in a low tone, which sends shivers down your spine, because for some reason you knew that the night was going to be long, and that by the end of it, you won’t be able to walk. Hopefully.
“So, you’ve been studying me over the last three years, huh.” You say with a smile, not looking at him, still with the glass of wine on your lips, and the alcohol was slightly stinging the wound he provoked on you in the woods. 
“And you’ve been waiting for me for three years.” He retorted, his eyes slowly turning black from how his pupils began to dilate the more his eyes roamed your body. He took a large chug from his wine glass, putting the crystal on the counter again while you giggled at his words, making all of his blood go south immediately. 
“Took you long enough.” You replied to him and his hand twitched on the counter as he stared down at you. Your giggle stopped but that wicked smile was still on your lips, setting your glass down as you finally turned your head to look at him. “I’ve been studying you too.”
“And how so?” He asks, the need to grab you, the need to get hold of you, pin you down, making you shut up, beginning to gnaw in the deep of his gut. You shrug at him, not even sparing him another word and his eyes twitched, his fire igniting as his right hand rises up, tracing your cheek softly in which you melted at, pressing your face against it. 
Your eyes suddenly widened when his hand enveloped your throat, in one swift movement, and pressure was applied, cutting your blood flow and oxygen at the same time. A choked moan escaped your lips as he looked down at you, a smile appearing in his lips, knowing very well that you were drenched by now, clenching onto nothing as he applied more pressure on you.
Asphyxiophilia: Sexual Arousal when being choked, often cutting the oxygen circulation.
“Now, let’s get one thing straight Bunny.” His left hand, which was still on the counter, found the knife he had already prepared for this moment, the knife that would start it all. “I own you. I make the rules and you just follow them. There’s nothing else you have to do.” 
You nodded, choking on your voice as your eyes started rolling to the back of your head, your hands gripping his wrist and he finally let go of some of the pressure to let oxygen flow in your body again. You choked a sigh of relief, your breathing already jagged by how much air entered all at once in your lungs again, yet his hand was still on your throat, his tattooed hand. 
His left hand raised up, pressing the tip of his blade onto your cheek, the smile still on his face as he looked at you. You smiled through your dizziness at him, and oh you were so beautiful. He guided his knife down, slowly, gliding it over your body, until he reached the hem of your dress. Your eyes widened as you felt the sharp tip of the knife over your shorts, your clit twitching at the sharpness of it. That sent an adrenaline shock through your body that almost made you squirm, but you knew that if you moved he might hurt you there.
He appreciated you staying still, and you were just too perfect for him. He twisted the knife so the blade would be facing upwards, and he slowly punctured the tip of the knife inside your shorts, but not through your soaked underwear. He smirked at you one last time and that’s when you heard the intense ripping sound, a gasp escaping your lips, the blade stretching the dress off your body as it ripped it in half, going all the way to your collarbone. 
His eyes scanned your frame, a white bra on your body as well as the matching thong that he could see from the slit of your shorts. The both of you had dirt all over yourselves, but that only enticed him to take you even more. To finally own you completely. He motioned towards your hands with the knife, which were still wrapped around his wrist. You gave a sigh as you dropped your hands to your sides, making the dress finally fall off from your shoulders, as if it were a coat. 
He slowly let go of your neck, letting the knife rest on top of the counter again, your breathing heavy and with the imprints of his fingers already on your neck, and tears were threatening to fall down from your eyes as you looked at him, but they weren’t enough. They weren’t enough for him, and he wanted more, he wanted to see you completely ruined by him. 
“On your knees.” You shivered at his command, wanting to be a brat, deny him, but this is what you’ve always wanted, to belong to him. For him to use you as he pleases, for him to drag you around like a plaything, but yet, to protect you like a partner, like an equal. You slowly got down on your knees, looking up at him through your lashes and he pressed his fingers under your chin to keep you up. “Will you do everything as I say?”
“Yes, yes, I will.” You were desperate now, not being able to handle anymore teasing from him. 
“Open your mouth, stick your tongue out.” He commanded this time, and you did as told, opening your pretty mouth from him, your pink tongue sticking out and he grinned at the view. He gathered his saliva inside his mouth, to then lean in and drop his spit into your mouth and tongue. He immediately closed your mouth with force. “Swallow.”
You didn’t. You closed your eyes at the taste of him in your tongue, just for a second and his eyes widened, lust covering his features as he saw you moaning with his spit in your mouth. You then swallowed, and opened your eyes again, sticking your tongue out for him, as if asking for more. He straightened up, his belt coming undone, the leather slipping off from his pants. You bit your bottom lip in anticipation, knowing exactly what he was going to do with it later on.
“What do you want me to do now?” You ask him and he simply smirks down at you, wicked eyes crossing his features as he unbuttoned his pants, dragging the zipper down.
“You just stay there, look pretty, while I fuck that bratty mouth of yours.” A gasp was heard from you but it was an excited one, your eyes immediately darting towards the bulge that was inside his pants as he finally pulled them down, along with his boxers. His cock springing up to hit against his pelvis, right in between the V shape that you want to trace your tongue on. “Spit.”
He didn’t have to tell you twice, you lunged forward as he grabbed onto his shaft, pulling it down for you to spit on it, and his hand started going up and down on himself, slowly, and your lips turned into a pout as you stared. It wasn’t fair, you wanted to do that. You raised your hand up only to be stopped by a sting, a sharp sting and a smack. His other hand was still holding the folded belt, and he used it to hit your hand away, making your eyes sting with tears as you put your hand back down, rubbing it softly with your other one, looking up at him with a frown in your face.
“Wh–”
“Don’t fucking touch me. I said, STAY THERE.” He almost growls at you, sending another shiver down your spine, but you straightened up, looking up at him, waiting for his instructions as he still stroked himself with your spit, making you gulp with need, seeing how large he was, your body moving forward, wanting to give it at least a small kiss to the head, only for another sharp sting hitting you, this time, it was a slap by his big hand, not that hard, but not gentle either, making you turn your head away with a whimper.
He waited for you to turn back at him, to see your reaction, to see what you are thinking because even if he studied you, he still has some self control and empathy in himself, and much more when it comes to you. He doesn’t want to hurt you in ways that you do not enjoy, but as you slowly turn to look back at him, your cheek stinging, with a smile to your face and hazy looking eyes as if in a trance, he couldn’t help but smile down at you.
“Can I beg?” You ask, and it was an honest question, a question of boundaries, a question to get to know him even more, to know what you can and can’t do, and he was appreciative of that.
“Yes. Beg for my cock, I want to hear how much you want it Bunny, how much you’ve been wanting it for these past three years.” And your breathing hitched at that, an excited smile appearing in your lips as you looked up at him, your brain completely drained from conscious thought as your desire poured out of your lips.
“Please Eddie, I want your big cock in my mouth, please… I want to taste you, have your cum dripping in my throat, been wanting it for so long, please– Don’t keep me waiting baby, please…” Your sultry voice filled his ears, a shiver running down his spine as his dick twitched in his pants, asking for attention, but there was a reason for you wanting to beg, because you studied him too… You know what he likes.
Narratophilia:  Sexual arousal to obscene words.
“Then open your fucking mouth, and you’ll take what I give you.” You didn’t waste a second, your nails digging in your knees as you opened your mouth again, sticking your tongue out for him. With one hand he guided his cock, and with the other he pressed it at the back of your head, pulling you forward towards it. 
He first taunts you, pulling your head back for you to kitten lick the tip, to then pull you forward again to take it into your mouth only to repeat the motion again. A soft whimper vibrated in your throat, which made Eddie’s hold grow tighter on your scalp, and he finally thrust himself inside of your mouth, halfway in and started going in a slow pace first so your mouth would get coated in your saliva. He knew he would hurt you if he made you deepthroat at once, and he didn’t want to destroy your vocal chords, at least not yet.
You closed your eyes as you hollow your cheeks to finally start sucking on him, letting him bob your head back and forth at his own pace, but you relished in the taste of him, a moan escaping your throat in delight as your spit helped your movements be smoother each thrust he did into you. He was holding back his groans at your sight, finally having you at his mercy, on your knees. His self control slowly slipping away as he tilts his head back, closing his eyes at the feeling of your tongue swirling around his cock, loving the way he could feel you moaning against him.
Your pussy clenched at nothing, and you wanted to touch yourself, relieve some of the tension building inside of you, but you knew better than that, so you kept your hands at your knees, fingernails scratching your skin. His hand finally let go of his cock, guiding it towards the back of your head, finally joining his other one, gripping onto your hair. He stopped you from bobbing your head, only for him to start thrusting himself inside of your mouth, inside and out, still in a slow pace.
Your eyes opened to look up at him and his eyes beamed at how you were looking at him. Pleading for more. So that, he did. He thrusted deeper this time, a gulp being heard from you, a gargle, but not a gag, not quite yet. His pace quickened, a groan finally coming to his throat as your eyes started tearing up the deeper he went in. This is what you wanted, to be used by him, and your wetness sipping through your underwear and shorts even was an indication of that.
“What a fucking slut, not even gagging.” He chuckled only to stop when even if you had a mouth full of him, he could still see the cocky turn up of the corner of your lips while staring up at him. His nose flared and he suddenly slammed himself inside your mouth, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. A tear slid down your cheek and you finally gagged at him, but because it was a surprise to you more than anything. He pulled back only to slam himself back in, your gags and gurgles filling the room as your mascara started running down your face.
He pulled back just for a second for you to take a deep breath through your nose, and he trembled slightly with a moan caught in his throat as he saw your face. His hands gripping your hair even tighter, not being able to contain himself as he started thrusting himself into your mouth, quick, but not deep like before, yet your spit mixed with his precum started slipping from the sides of your mouth. 
He couldn’t help but wanting you to keep crying, to keep tearing up, so he slammed himself again against your mouth, hitting your throat again, and you breathed through your nose in order not to gag, but your eyes widened when you realized that he was staying there. You whimpered against him, as more tears slipped through your eyes as you tried to keep your breathing under control, but he was groaning in pleasure at the sight. 
You started gagging, your body lurching forward a couple of times and that was Eddie’s queue to finally pull away from you, taking his cock out of your mouth.
“Ung–” You were panting, trying to move your throat a bit to numb the sudden beating it received, but Eddie simply pulled you up from your hair, making you gasp as you stood on your two feet again, your knees screaming in pain from being against the hard floor for too long. His face was inches from yours and your eyes saw what he was looking at. You couldn’t help the smirk that came to your face as you felt his dick twitch against your hip as he inspected your cheeks, your tears.
Dacryphilia: Sexual arousal to seeing the partner crying or shedding tears.
His lips immediately connected to yours, a rough, deep kiss, full of lust and desperation. Your mouth opened for him, once again, and his tongue invaded it in a second. You clenched again when you felt his tongue piercing all around your cavity, on your tongue, clinking against your teeth. He moaned into your mouth when he felt the mix of his taste, your spit, as well as the saltiness of your tears. 
He pulled away from you, pulling his boxers and pants up but not buttoning himself up as you stared at him, completely dazed for his next move. He couldn’t help himself and he leaned down to press a kiss to your cheek, in which you sighed dreamily at, knowing you were being a good girl. His good girl.
“Let's go upstairs. I have to ruin you.” You trembled at his words, excited for that to happen, excited to be ruined by him, excited to be yourself with him. He turned you around, and he grabbed his belt from the counter with one hand, the other being pressed against the small of your back, guiding you towards the stairs. You went up, your pussy clenching at each step taken as the adrenaline pumped in your veins. He was right behind you, now finally walking you towards his room.
He opened the door for you, and you walked in to take it all in. Realization hit you. This wasn’t just any of Eddie’s properties, this was his house, the one he considered home, the one that was all him and not something designed by someone else. His guitars were on display on one wall, a few paintings and limited vinyl editions of what you believed were his favorite bands, the big king sized bed in the middle of the room with dark comforters, and the big window on its side, a few feet away with long black draped curtains. 
You were now part of his home.
A sudden feeling filled you as you turned around with excitement to wrap your arms around his shoulders, the action completely startling him as he looked down at you. Your lips immediately found his, as you took in the feeling that he owned you, but in the most caring way possible, and like you stated before, you knew he wasn’t going to cage you up, not that you minded if it was done by him.
His lips moved with yours as he slowly guided you towards the bed, his hands going to your back to finally unclasp your bra. The back of your knees hit the edge of his bed, and you pulled away from him, taking your bra off completely. He looked down at your bare breasts, wanting to dive into them, take them into his mouth, but he made a promise to you first. He raised a hand, slapping one of your tits with it, making you gasp with a moan.
“Get on the fucking bed, and raise your hands over your head.” You smiled at him as you sat down on the bed, pushing yourself backwards into the middle of it as he kept his eyes on you, slowly walking towards the side of the bed as you laid down, throwing your arms up, almost touching his black headboard. From the corner of it, he opened a small wooden door, at the very top, and he started pulling a black rope from it, your eyes widening at it, while a small smirk spread on your cheeks.
“The headboard seems new.” You managed to say in a hoarse voice, and he chuckled at that, grabbing onto your right wrist, pulling you towards the bracelet of the rope, wrapping it tightly around your skin. 
“Custom made. Received it a couple of days ago.” For some reason, he didn’t want to lie to you about that, nor tease you, because he wanted you to know that he prepared himself for you and just you. This bed was made for you, and that made you moan with need, your thighs rubbing together at his confession. He circled the bed, going to the other top corner of his headboard to pull the same rope out, grabbing your left wrist and pulling you towards him again, and you felt the tug onto your right hand, not letting it move further. 
“How thoughtful of you Eds.” You smiled at him when you noticed he wasn’t tightening the bracelets too hard on your skin. You have noticed that he was thoughtful of you, careful to some degree with you, yet, rough. His hand went down again, slapping at your left breast now, your back slightly arching at the feeling, with a moan trapped in your throat.
“Are you going to stop talking?” You giggled and licked your lips, wanting once again to go against him, but you knew better. You liked being dominated, you really did, and you knew that your other side was something you couldn’t do with Eddie. He sighed at your giggling, heading towards his dresser where he left his belt at the top of it. You bit your lip as your eyes glistened with anticipation.
“You’re gonna punish me? Don’t you want to fuck me? Take me? Breed me? Why are you taking so long Eddie?” You lifted your legs up, bending at your knees, spreading them open for him and he almost dropped the belt to the ground at your words, groaning as you used his kink against him. He put his knee on the edge of the bed and you smiled at him, a wicked smile.
“I told you to shut the fuck up.” 
SMACK.
You gasped loudly as your body jolted upwards from the mixed sensations that just went through your whole body, like an electric shock. He swung his belt towards your clothed cunt, smacking it, sending a sharp yet burning pain through your whole body, and your clit throbbed with the need of more friction, even if painful, it still felt so good after being neglected for a long while.
Eddie was smirking as he looked at you, squirming under him, his cock wanting to explode out of the confines of his boxers again, the zipper that was already down from his pants digging into the bulge as it twitched on him. He raised his belt again, smacking you on your left inner thigh, making you jolt again and your legs spread even more. You were perfect for him, simply perfect, moaning thanks to what he was doing, tears starting to form in your eyes again… You were his.
Sexual sadism: Sexual arousal on causing pain, non life-threatening.
“Eddie– Eddie please–” You were begging again, but that earned you another bruising smack to your other inner thigh, your back arching at the pain, yet pleasure that shot through your body as the ropes on the headboard clinked at the movement of your arms.
“Are you that desperate for my cock?” He says as he looks down at you, and you nodded desperately, a tear sliding down from the corner of your eye, and honestly, Eddie was too. He waited too long for this, and even though he wanted to do so many more things to you, he knew he had time, that you both had time.
“Yes, please, fill me up– I need your cock inside of me, waited too long for you baby, don’t tease me anymore, don’t tease us any longer…” You begged but this time it was a genuine one, a very truthful one that Eddie couldn’t deny. He put the belt to the side, almost throwing it, and he grabbed the hem of your ripped shorts and underwear, ripping it off from you in one move, helping him with the movement of your legs. 
He looked down at your wet pussy, and you already made a complete mess of yourself. The shorts were drenched as well as your tongue, and he couldn’t help but think again that he was blessed with you by some god. You were his equal, completely unhinged, crazy, and you two were desperate for one another. 
His cock would have to wait, because he couldn’t help himself as he saw you like this, at his mercy, legs spread and inner thighs red from his ministrations. He held you at the back of your knees, your eyes widening when he bent them forward, towards your chest, and your hips raised up, your cunt facing the ceiling. He smirked at it, leaning down to take a long swipe against your wet folds, making your eyes roll to the back of your head.
You wanted to arch your back, but you couldn’t as his grip was tight on the back of your thighs, making your back arch downwards. A moan escaped your lips as he kept swiping his tongue on you, licking on your wetness, tasting you, and groaning at how sweet you were, relishing in the fact that he could have you like this any time he wants from now on. Your hands made the ropes clink again, as you tried to guide them to his head, to hold onto him, and you whined at the restraints.
“Eddie– Eds–” You moaned his name and his hand raised up to smack your lifted ass as it left your thigh to do so. You gasped at the feeling, keeping your knees to your chest in order not to go against him. He flicked his tongue on your clit, and your moans finally started coming out of your mouth, one after the other. He was almost eating you up, like a starved man. 
And he couldn’t get enough. He could do this all day, he could stay buried in your pussy if he could because you just tasted so good, so much better than what he anticipated, than what he had imagined. All these years of waiting paid off, because it tasted as if you were waiting for him, it tasted like you were made for him, to his taste, that someone made his favorite flavor, and it had always been you.
His tongue finally dipped inside you, and he moaned against your cunt as he felt your walls clenching around him, the ropes clinking as you thrashed your arms from the sensation, his nose bumping on your clit as he moved his head up and down, his tongue flicking inside of you, and he really was devouring you. 
Thanks to all the edging, the teasing, and how you had been wet from the very moment you saw him in the ballroom, the coil in your belly started to form rapidly. Your moans escalated in sound, and your eyes closed at how good his tongue was flicking at your walls, trying to reach that place that would make you see stars. He took his mouth off you with a gasp, getting air back in his lungs and you almost cried at the loss, only to feel one strong and large finger enter you, and curling in a come hither motion. 
“Oh, FUCK!” Your head went back into the pillows as a moan escaped from your lips, loud, the spongy part of yourself being rubbed onto over and over again. He smirked at the sight, his panting from desire being heard along your moans.
“Are you enjoying yourself little Bunny?” He asks and you nod your head desperately, tears prickling in your eyes as you feel the burning at your hip from the position and your wrists tugged onto the ropes again.
“Yes, yes, yes! Please– Please keep going!” And he was going to. He wasn’t going to edge you, not this time, because you’ve been such a good girl, even if a little bratty, you were a good girl for him. He pushed another finger inside of you, your eyes widening as both of them started rubbing you, repeatedly, your belly screaming for release. Your chest was heaving up and down as your panting increased and his movements became fast, the squelching of your cunt being heard across the room.
“Come on, cum for me. Fucking look at me while you cum.” And that you did, staring up at him with your mouth open, moans coming out as your belly finally exploded, your vision going white as you tried to keep your eyes open for him, but you knew the tears were blocking your vision. Your pussy clamped down on his fingers and you heard him curse at the feeling as he tried to keep the fast pace on you. Your legs trembled around him as his name spilled out of your lips.
“Eddie! Oh my god, SHIT!” You kept riding your orgasm against his fingers, your walls clenching and unclenching until it finally stopped, your body jolting once, then twice as Eddie slowed down his fingers on you, and once he saw you relaxing onto the bed again he pulled them out of you.
He was breathing heavily, looking down at you as he made your lower body hit the bed again, a sigh of relief mixing with your panting as you finally felt some of the burning on your hip go away. He looked at his fingers, licking your juices off of them, and through your half lidded eyes you could see him, making your pussy clench again. You wanted to laugh at how needy you were, how desperately you wanted him. 
He wasn’t going to last long, not with you having sucked his dick, and he almost busted through his boxers while eating you out. He got off the bed, not even bothering to wipe his mouth from your slick and his spit, wanting to keep your taste on his mouth for a little longer. He walked over to one side to let your left wrist go, and he rubbed the red mark that appeared on your skin. You smiled up at him and nodded, as if telling him it was okay. He then walked to the other side to let go of your other hand, followed by him ripping himself off his pants and underwear. 
You wanted to have him in your mouth again, seeing his pink tip leaking precum was enough to make you want to open your mouth and stick out your tongue, buit he had other plans for you. He got on the bed again, but before getting in between your legs, he got his hands underneath your ass and waist, turning you over and onto your stomach, a gasp coming out of your lips. 
He positioned himself behind you, lifting your hips with his fingertips digging on the flesh of your skin, marking you up. When you left your upper body on the mattress, he groaned and grabbed onto his belt again that was on the edge of the bed, almost falling over, and made a snapping sound with it before landing it against your right cheek, making you jolt up and almost squirm away from the sting. 
“In all fours, or I’ll strap you to this fucking bed without touching you again.” That made your trembling hands press against the mattress to prop yourself up instantly. You stuck your ass at him, wiggling your hips slightly, earning yourself another smack from his belt on your other cheek, a squeal escaping your lips now. Another smack on the same place, and now a moan was heard in the room as the burning increased in that area. 
“Eddie…” You whimpered and he put the belt down, grabbing your ass with one hand, and his cock with the other to finally guide it to your waiting entrance. You moaned with need when he pressed the tip against your clit and you knew what you had to do now. “Please, I need your cock, don’t tease me anymore–”
He plunged himself inside of you, a choked gasp trapping itself in your throat at the sudden massive stretch with no mercy, your eyes widening at the feeling as they immediately prickled with tears from the sting. He was halfway in, and started invading your hole, a little slow, but not quite. He groaned with a smile to his face as he felt your tight walls engulfing him.
“Yeah, this pussy was made for me… So perfect.” You whined at that, almost a whimper as he finally bottomed out and you felt him almost at your throat. He was too deep inside of you, the stretch almost painful, but it couldn’t compare to how much pleasure it gave you. You needed him to move despite the burning sensation, because your belly was screaming for him, your mind and sould needed him.
“Eds, move, please move–” You didn’t have to beg anymore. He pulled back and slammed himself back in, making the fat of your ass jiggle at his movement, and a loud moan was out of your mouth in a second. He repeated the motion until he started going at a brutal pace, and the slamming of the headboard filled the room in between your breaths and the moans. Your arms were trembling as your body went back and forth against him, his hands now at your hips, his fingers digging into your skin.
You could hear the squelching of your pussy as he moved, wet from your climax and getting even wetter at finally having him, at finally feeling him inside of you, and the realization that you get to have him from this day on whenever you want. He was moaning, without shame at all because you were too warm, too beautiful, too pretty right now. His hands went towards your asscheeks, spreading them open to see your small hole, and a grin formed in his face between his jagged breaths.
“Next time– I’ll prep you, and I’ll fuck this little hole of yours. Would you like that, my sweet Bunny?” My. My. My. You were cock drunk now, not being able to think about anything else but him, and the way he was claiming you over and over again at every slam of skin against each other. 
“Yes! Yes! I’ll take anything from you–Fuck!” He wanted to laugh at that, as he smacked your ass with his hand, against the already bruising mark that was there. You groaned at that and he pressed his hips against you, harshly and deep and you choked on your own sounds at that. You were certain that if you pressed your hand against your belly, you would be able to feel the tip of his cock inside of you.
He reached out to grab hold of the back of your head, running his fingers through your hair to finally clench at your scalp, making you yelp. He pulled you upwards, your back hitting his chest as you ached it for him to keep thrusting in and out of you but he stood still. His mouth was on your ear as he breathed against it, whispering softly.
“You are so fucking perfect for me.” You smiled at that, your bodies sticking against each other's sweat. You licked your lips as you turned your head to look at him.
“I studied you too, you know…” You confessed to him, and he raised an eyebrow at you. You grabbed onto his hand that was in your waist, pulling it up towards your mouth. You put his index and ring fingers inside, sucking on them and you felt his hips start to move inside of you, at the same rhythm of your lips. You pulled them out to graze your tongue towards the belly of his palm where you suddenly bit at the flesh, harshly, marking him. His dick twitched inside of you as he moaned against your ear a smile appearing on your lips as they still latched on his skin, blood filling your mouth.
Odaxelagnia: Sexual arousal to biting or being bitten.
“You fucking slut.” He ripped his hand away from you, and despite the pain, he gripped onto your hips again, setting a brutal pace against you, your back arching against him, ass sticking out as your head rested against his shoulder. His mouth immediately found your shoulder, biting onto your skin until his teeth went through, your eyes widening at the burning and pain, but it sent an electric shock towards your belly which began its tightening again. 
“Only for you– God, just for you–!” He licked the blood that oozed out of the inflicted wound, and his other hand went towards your clit as his hips slammed against your ass, his dick hitting that perfect spongy part of yourself that made you moan almost in screams as he hit it repeatedly and without missing. His fingers started circling against your nub and your pussy clenched around him, earning a moan from his part.
“You have to come with me, I’m going to fill you up so fucking good.” He says into your ear and it comes unexpectedly, your eyes widening as his words triggered your orgasm way harsher than before, his fingers flicking on your clit rapidly as your juices gushed around him, making a mess out of your legs and his, and the comforter below you two. He cursed under his breath as his movements started faltering, stuttering.
“Eddie– Fuck, please, PLEASE–” You were still riding your orgasm out when you felt that warmth finally fill your belly, coating all of your walls as he spent his seed inside of you. He moaned loudly against your shoulder, as he kept pumping himself inside of you, your pussy clenching him to milk every single drop until you finally came down from your high and his hips stopped moving completely.
You were both breathing heavily as you tried to get some oxygen in your lungs. The room smelled like sex, your sweat, your juices, his cologne, and it was such an amazing smell to you. He groaned when he finally pulled out of you and his hand raised up to grab onto your chin, turning your head to look at him. His lips found yours again, this time, a tender kiss, a kiss of belonging, a kiss that sealed this bond between you both.
Your new home.
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“You really are on the pill then.” Eddie says as he lays in his bed, a new comforter over his legs as his back is pressed against his headboard. You were naked with a towel on your hand as you dried your hair with it, walking towards him after a nice shower you both took together.
“Of course.” He groaned at that with his arms crossed over his chest, looking away. He knew it was too soon to have a kid with you, but he really wanted to claim you in every way possible, and having a family with you, was another way of doing so. You smiled at him, throwing the towel to the floor, as you got inside the bed with him. His arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you close to him and you rested your head on his shoulder.
“Why did you decide to enter the trial?” He asks you and you hum at that question.
“My father has been trying to marry me off for the past three years… Sadly, all of my bachelors went missing, or were killed in action.” You say with a smirk to your face, and Eddie’s grin widened at that. He can still remember the screams of the men that tried to marry you, claiming you like he did. 
“I wonder what happened.” He says as if he were playing dumb. You giggled at that and nodded.
“Hmm… You didn’t know about my last bachelor, did you?” He blinked at that, and looked at you as you stared forward, a glint in your eyes that were filled with mischief, but also lust. “Right before entering the trial, my father told me I was to be set up with a new bachelor, and to be honest, he is a pretty, a very pretty boy.” You licked your lips at those words, Eddie’s attention already drawn to you as you spoke.
“Who was it sweetheart?” You turned to look at him, a wicked smile on your face.
“Harrington Jr.” Eddie’s eyes sparkled at that. The son of the Harrington Emporium. You licked your lips at him as he hummed at you, his eyes suddenly turning lustful as he looked down at you.
“Mmm… He is a pretty boy.” You turned your body to be closer to his ear as you talked in a sultry tone.
“Can I have him Eddie? Please?” He chuckled at that, but a new obsession was growing in his head, storming his mind. “I’ll share him, I promise…”
“We can plan on him being the next White Rabbit.” He says and your chest was filled with excitement as your hand reached for his cheek to make him turn to you, licking your lips as you talked.
“I’m the hunter next year.”
“He’s all yours.”
Bunny, Bunny, Bunny, you're so funny with your twitching nose.
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Second part maybe? Do you guys want Stevie?
REBLOGS MAKE ME REALLY HAPPY YOU KNOW.
A/N: Yeah, kinda came out of my shell with this one, I hope you all like it, and if you don't well, you do you booboo. TO ALL MY FRIENDS THAT WAITED FOR THIS, HERE YOU GO, I LOVE YOU, MWAH.
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cursingtoji · 9 months
Note
I am back for more
31… BUT HEAR ME OUT 😩 I can’t pick between Suguru and Choso because they both fit it SOO well so you pick ☺️💕
𝕿𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖔𝖔 𝕬𝖗𝖙𝖎𝖘𝖙!𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔
⊱ fem reader x heavily tattooed choso, porn with a plot, dirty talk, semi-public sex, fingering, a tongue piercing; The Clichés ™;
note: winter i remember us talking about tattoo artist choso and i went feral with it, geto is mentioned but he does not participate (yet? 👀)
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tattoo artist!Choso who is heavily tattooed mostly black and gray art. his fair skin contrasting with the dark ink on his arms and neck. black smudged eyeliner around his brown eyes make his look upon you feel a thousand times deeper
choso is a sight for sore eyes
he’s exactly the kind of guy you would expect to see working in a tattoo shop
when you go get a matching tattoo with your best friend is when you first see him, writing something down at the reception and not noticing you at first
his pretty face and deep eyes greet you both with a smile so pretty that makes you forget the name of your scheduled artist.
“matching tattoos…” he looks in a book as you hope him to be the artist, “ah here, Suguru!” he calls and a man with black hair tied in a bun comes to you and your friend.
“thank you” you smile getting a wink back from him.
suguru is very friendly, he asks your bestie questions about your friendship since she’s the first one to get inked while you look around the shop, more specifically at the art in frames hanging all around the walls.
one catches your eye: a traditional japanese dragon with some flowers and clouds around it.
you even get closer to take a better look at the intricate details
your friend has to tap your shoulder when shes done cause you completely spaced out thinking about that art on your body
suguru can’t help but notice how your eyes keeping swinging back to that piece on the art while he’s tattooing your forearm
“you know that was done by one of our guys” he says, “Choso. You met him in the reception” he points with his chin to the handsome man
“really? that’s so beautiful… was it done for a client or something like that?” you ask wanting to know if someone else already had that piece of art tattooed.
“no, not really. choso created that on his own” suguru smirks when sees you biting your lip “you know… that would look gorgeous on your back or thigh” you were already tempted without suguru pushing you
by the time your matching tattoo is done, suguru had already convinced you to come back and get the dragon on your thigh, since choso was nowhere to be seen, suguru himself scheduled your appointment with choso for next week.
“gotcha an appointment” suguru says finding choso on the break room
“oh yeah?”
“she’s gonna get the dragon with flowers that has been on the wall for months”
choso stops all he’s doing and looks at suguru with an empty expression
“i know i know, you’re afraid to tattoo it, client not liking and you ending up heart broken cause it’s your favourite drawing of yours…” choso delivered a light punch on his friend’s shoulder, “but come on, the girl was so cute and she really loved it”
it’s not like choso could just call you and say he wasn’t gonna do it so after another punch on suguru he returned to his station and followed his week until the day you returned to studio
saying you were anxious is an understatement
it would be a pretty large tattoo that you decided to get on your thigh, but the expectation to see choso again played a big part on your apprehensiveness
your artist is already at the reception talking to a younger guy you haven’t seen around the last time
you greet them both and say your there for your appointment, the younger one asks who your artist is
“she’s mine, come on sweetheart” he says so casually and leaves you trying to regulate your heartbeats
choso takes you upstairs to the corner of the room and tells you to get comfortable on the chair after you okayed the size of the stencil
“i need you to take it off or it’ll get stained with ink” he pointed to your shorts and closed the curtain, he stayed there but turned around pretending to organize the caps to give you some privacy
you wiggle out of the article and sat back on the chair with your black undies and nothing else under the waist, thankfully you chose a good one, when you’re comfortable choso approaches to rub some alcohol and place the stencil
as soon as you agree he begin to trace the patterns with you sitting on the partially reclined chair
“how we doing?” he looks up after half an hour, having finished part of the drawing
“i’m alright” you sigh
“strong girl, we can make a break in another hour, then i’ll have finished the flowers” he assures and go back to focusing on your thigh
having a gorgeous man so close to your crotch was having an effect on you that didn’t match the pain he was inflicting
of course it hurt but every time he gets too close to your skin and you feel his hot breathing fanning over the sore area you unconsciously press your thighs together
and choso is not stupid, of course he notices how aroused his cute client is, he has his hand on your inner thigh and whenever your reflexes kick and you try to close them he tights his grip on you to avoid you moving and screwing up his lines
“sure you’re okay?” he stops the machine to run vasiline on your skin very softly while looking in your eyes, you can’t find your voice to answer him “we can take a break now, maybe i can get you to relax a little” he doesn’t need to move his hand much to touch the covered lips of your pussy, when he does you whimper
“i can smell how wet you are, does pain turn you on that much?” he removes his hand to snap his glove out and touch the wet patch on your underwear with his bare fingers
you shake your head “no? what was it then? don’t tell me it’s me” he raises from his stool staring from above while you look back at him with doe eyes “aren’t you cute” he murmurs kissing your forehead and pushing your underwear aside to run his fingers on your wet folds a couple of times before pushing them in
“i need you to keep it down for me, can you do that?” he murmurs it so low you barely hear it due to the other voices on the other side of the curtain, you nod and starts to move his fingers skillfully
“naughty girl, booked a tattoo just to get your pussy played with tsk tsk” he adds a second finger keeping your clit under his thumb
“no! i really want it” you reply immediately not wanting him to think for a second you didn’t love his art
that seemed to be enough affirmation for choso, who leans taking your chin with his free hand, he stops right before your lips studying the little pout you have and how dilated your pupils are
he smirks and softly bites your bottom lip, which makes you yelp but he licks it apologetically
choso feels like eating you whole, the way you respond to him is mesmerizing
“c-choso i’m close” you grip his arm and he pushes his tongue in, swallong your moans cause the last thing he needs is one of his coworkers finding out about this
you didn’t notice at first due to his ministrations bellow your waist but he had a tongue piercing, the cold metal rolls between your tongues, a new exciting addition to an already great kiss
his thumb flicker your clit and you press your thighs around his hand climaxing hard and silently
“good girl” he pulls away taking a string of saliva, you rest your head on the chair recovering from your high, for a second your eyes close but soon open them again when you feel a tissue touch your sensitive core
“wait aren’t you— aren’t we—?” you look down to his bulge, he was clearly aroused too
“calm down lady, this is just the first session” he laughs and gently cleans you and the chair finishing up by placing your underwear back, “lemme finish this and if you don’t tap out or squirm i’ll reward you in the end” he winks before disappearing behind the curtains for a couple of minutes, you take the chance to look down at your skin
it was a bit swollen but you could see that the part he had inked already was perfect, the dragon was halfway done and you couldn’t wait to see it completed
when choso gets back he’s pleasurably surprised to find you looking at your leg with a smile in your face
“lemme see…” a few hours later you’re at the reception talking to the boy from before to schedule your return in order to color the rest of the tattoo, “choso is free next—“
“actually yuuji you can book her for this weekend” choso steps up, just walking down the stairs. moments before he told to check with yuuji while he cleaned his station
“you are not working this weekend” yuuji looks at him suspiciously
“i am now” choso emphasize by tapping his finger on the date at the planner
“hm okay” yuuji takes your information and you thank him before choso leads you out
“you’ll be working just for me?” you ask once you’re out
“yeah but you’ll buy us lunch after i’m done”
“done with the tattoo?”
“done with you” your eyes widen and you’re already excited for your date
“okay, I’ll pay, but…” you step closer to him but not too much so the people inside the shop don’t notice, “you’ll have to use your tongue”
“you liked that?” he rolls his tongue out displaying the shiny round metal, “fine i’ll show you what i can do with it next time”
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See also: “who did this to you?” + Sukuna
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sinkovia · 3 months
Text
Coffee Shop: III
Simon Riley x Fem!Reader
You work at a small cafe that Simon starts visiting when he’s not deployed.
Coffee Shop Masterlist
Simon became a regular at the cafe, and over the two weeks since he started coming in, you grew more comfortable with him. The small conversations flowed easily, and he often lightened the atmosphere with an awful joke. One of your favorites was about two goldfish in a tank.
As he sat in his usual spot, you heard the familiar tear of the napkin, watching him stick the flimsy little piece between the pages of his book and close it. As he got up from his seat, you couldn't resist questioning him.
“Why don’t you have any bookmarks?” shaking your head slightly as you observed the flimsy napkin flaying up and down with the book.
“Why would I spend money on bookmarks when there are free bookmarks right here,” he replied with a matter-of-fact tone, making you shake your head and laugh. “Right, well, have a nice day.”
After he left, you thought for a moment, looking at your bookmark. The idea struck you – why not bring in some paper, markers, and packing tape tomorrow? During your break, you could make bookmarks for him. It was a small gesture that you hoped would bring a smile to his face. 
When you got home, you eagerly packed your bag with small blank pieces of rectangular paper and your high-end markers. The art scissors and clear packing tape joined the mix as you prepared for the creative endeavor. Excitement filled you as you thought about surprising Simon with a proper bookmark.
Walking to work the next day, you felt a giddy anticipation. As he entered the cafe, he couldn't help but notice your extra liveliness, a departure from your usual demeanor. Approaching the register, he found a hot cup of tea already waiting for him.
"You were waiting on me?" he asked, and you responded with a smile and a nod. "Just thought it would be nice if your tea was already ready for you when you walked in," you explained, beaming up at him. Simon, in his typical fashion, decided to tease a bit.
"I actually wanted a green tea today." Your eyebrows raised, lips forming a small "o" of surprise. "I can get you a green tea—" you began, reaching for the cup, but Simon quickly pulled out money from his wallet.
"All jokes, love," he said, and you laughed, taking the bills and putting them in the register, closing it with a soft click. As the time passed slowly during your shift, you occupied yourself with various tasks like cleaning the coffee machine, sanitizing the counters, and refilling the sugar station, hoping to make it to your break sooner. Despite your efforts, only twenty minutes seemed to pass, and you decided to say fuck it since there were no customers coming in.
You grabbed your bag and walked over to Simon, taking the seat across from him at the small table. He looked up from his book, intrigued, as he watched you pull out colorful markers and paper. With bright eyes, you sat up in your chair.
“So what are some things you like?” Simon put his book down and crossed his arms over his chest.
“What’s the paper for?” You pulled out the bookmark from the book in your bag and slid it over to him. He grabbed it, holding it up and fighting back his smile at the small drawings of penguins near an ice globe fighting about communism.
“You want to make me a bookmark?”
“Yeah, it's so depressing looking at the flimsy excuse of a bookmark.” He smiled, looking at the napkin. “So what do you like? Stars? Dogs? Trees? Oh, wait! I have the perfect thing to draw.” 
Simon leaned back in the chair, sipping his tea, and watched you draw away, switching the color of the markers every so often. He found it cute the way you were concentrated on what was in front of you.
It only took you about five minutes, but when you were done, you held the bookmark up to Simon with a smile. He couldn't help but laugh as he grabbed it, examining all the little details you drew. It was the joke he had told you a few days ago.
Two goldfish are in a tank, one says to the other, you know how to drive this thing?
You drew two fish coming out of the top of an army tank, having a conversation with each other. You added them underwater and included little battle fish with helmets charging forward.
Your eyes lingered on his smile as he scanned over the drawing. Your heart warmed, knowing he liked it. You extended your hand, and he handed it back to you. Flipping it over, you looked at him, “What should be on the back?”
Simon thought it would be funny to tell you another joke. “What has two legs and bleeds?”
You thought for a moment, slightly humming to yourself. “A gunshot victim?”
“Half a dog.”
You blankly stared at him, then laughed, “You're awful for thinking of that.” He smiled and brought the cup up to his lips, taking a long sip. “You gonna draw it?”
“I’ll draw something better,” you said, smiling and already starting the drawing. You decided to draw a dog shooting a man. Giving the dog a suit and black sunglasses, you added a large assault rifle and made little bullets fly, piercing the man as he fell to the floor. You slid the final product over, and Simon let out an audible laugh. You couldn't hide the way your eyes locked onto his face.
"This is really good, y/n." You had never felt more proud, and you couldn't stop smiling even after he handed the bookmark back to you so you could put packing tape over it. Carefully cutting the extra tape that hung off the sides, you slid it back over to him.
Simon opened his book, took out the napkin, and replaced it with the bookmark, closing the book. "See, look how much better that looks."
"You're right." He looked up at you, holding your gaze, and you couldn't help but smile. The door opened, and you quickly got up, going behind the counter to take an order. After making the person's order, you walked back to Simon, sitting across from him again.
You took out another strip of paper, and you looked up at him, "Skulls." It was all he said, and you smiled, immediately getting to work. You drew little realistic skulls with blood oozing out of the eye sockets. Leaving some space in the middle, you drew a little grim reaper because Reaper and skulls go together, right?
"The reaper’s a nice touch." You smiled, finishing the last little details. "Thought you would like it."
You looked at the clock and cursed under your breath. Your break was over, and you had to get back to work. "Unfortunately, I have to get back to work. I’ll finish this side before you leave."
"Sounds good, love, and thank you for making them." You smiled as you put the markers and supplies back into your bag. "No need to thank me; I had fun drawing them."
As you stood behind the counter, you thought about what to draw on the other side. Glancing up at Simon, who was engrossed in his book, you decided he would be the perfect thing to put on the other side. You took your time drawing him, using different colors and creating a cute, colorful sketch of him sitting by the window, holding the cup to his lips as he looked down at a book. The drawing depicted a very warm scene, with small rays of sunshine through the window and added details on the table.
The small alarm on his watch went off, and he glanced at you doodling away. He pushed the off button and stayed in the seat, continuing to read until you were done drawing. You quickly cut the extra pieces of packing tape and walked over to him.
"Sorry, that took a bit longer than I expected." You handed him the bookmark, and as he took it, you heard your manager call you to the back.
"Shit, I have to go. Walk home safe." You turned and sped walked into the back towards the kitchen.
Simon turned, pushing the door open and flipping over the bookmark. His eyes grew a little wide upon seeing your drawing of him. No one had ever drawn him before, and the way you captured him so at peace with life and the things around him was something he never thought anyone could see. He felt something swirl deep in his chest, a warmth that enveloped his body despite it being winter. You drew in his watch and the torn napkin, even adding the six dollars he tipped you when he first went there. He smiled and couldn't stop staring at all the small details you added during his walk back home.
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cupid-styles · 3 months
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Ahhhh I need more hockey!harry 😍 I need a whole back story to how they met, when he started teasing her and for what reason and how they end up together. It’s soo good, I especially loved the jealous blurb, I need more! ❤️
ahhhhh thank you cutie!!! here's a blurb on how they met and got to where they are now
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also tysm to cutie @harrysonlylover for this collage!!!! this v much represents their relationship <3
word count: 1.3k
content warnings: none!
masterlist | talk to me
hockey h x ballerina!yn masterlist
patreon
. . .
Things between Harry and Y/N weren’t always like this.
In fact, maybe in another world, they would’ve been friends. Even lovers, perhaps, but that may be pushing the envelope just a tad. They’re both third years, which means they started at the university at the same time. They attended all of those silly orientation meetings and events alongside one another (and few hundred others) that are designed to make incoming freshmen feel more comfortable, but in reality, just make things awkward and cringy. 
(Harry remembers visibly recoiling when he was told to come up with a fun fact, and they weren’t allowed to say anything about their majors or primary sports.) 
(He ended up going with the fact that he was born in London, which their orientation leader, Lisa, was far too interested in — an annoying amount, really. He thinks she tried getting with him at the bonfire that evening, but Harry was so exhausted he couldn’t even be bothered to pretend like he knew what she was getting at.)
But Y/N was in his orientation group, actually. Years later, he still remembers how strong her legs looked in her shorts and the way she tied her hair up with a velvet scrunchie (it was in the middle of July, and the heat was sweltering, sunrays pelting them straight into their backs and necks). He doesn’t recall what her fun fact was, but he does know that they were paired up for some dumb icebreaker activity. In an effort to get them better familiar with the campus, they had to do a scavenger hunt which, to Harry, felt like cruel and unusual punishment considering the rapidly increasing temperature. They were instructed to fill up their free, university-sponsored water bottles and get to work, returning back to the post before 5 pm, where they’d be having some sort of barbecue situation.
At first, Harry thinks she’s shy. Well, she is — she’s quiet and doesn’t say much besides a soft “thank you” when he offers to run her water bottle over to the refill station. She’s focused on the task at hand, though he can both tell that they would rather poke their own eyes out than do it.
“Let’s take a break,” Harry decides, not 20 minutes in. It’s mainly because his eyes zero in on a shady area on the quad, a semblance of shade offered by a large oak tree. Y/N, exhausted herself, doesn’t fight him.
She sits cross-legged in the grass, her posture near impeccable as Harry lays down, fixing his sunglasses into his curly hair. 
“Have you decided on a major yet?” Harry asks, desperate for some sort of small talk — normally, he doesn’t care for niceties, but the near-silence between them is killing him, considering how hot and bored he is.
“I have a ballet scholarship.” she answers simply.
“That’s cool,” he nods, though he doesn’t know a single thing about it, “I didn’t know this school was big on ballet.”
He notices the way she wrinkles her nose, eyes squinting slightly. 
“It’s one of the top dance schools in the country, only behind performing arts universities.”
“Oh. Nice.”
Y/N attempts to shake away his ignorance, head cocking to look down at the male laying at her side. “And you? What are you majoring in?”
And Harry doesn’t really mean it, but it comes out without him even realizing it. It’s just— no one’s asked him that in years, but only because where he’s from, everybody knows he was the top hockey player in the city, number five in the state. Nobody ever expected Harry to go to school to study anything because it was always known that he’d go for hockey. 
So, he snorts. He actually, physically snorts, and the look of apparent disgust is immediately clear on Y/N’s face. Parting his lips, he instantly wishes he can take it back, especially when she straightens her posture to sit up a bit higher.
“I’m sorry, I— I’m here for hockey,” Harry flounders, sitting up on his elbows. “I have a hockey scholarship.”
“And was I supposed to know that?” Y/N fires back with narrowed eyes. He shakes his head. 
“No, of course not.”
“Right,” she says, standing from the shady oasis and brushing her hands over her bum to get any grass off of it, “Let’s finish this.”
. . . 
Harry was wrong about Y/N.
He thought she was shy and quiet, maybe a bit mousy if anything. But no— it turns out, in the few hours that he’s known Y/N, if she doesn’t have a taste for someone, she’ll make it known. It’s not even in outwardly mean ways, it’s just passive aggressive, like dismissive hums at his every attempt at conversation, or him pointing out the ballet studio on their walk through the campus center. He even says “oh, wow, it looks beautiful,” hoping to pet at the excited, passionate part of her personality, but instead, she ignores him. 
She ignores him.
So when they finally finish the stupid scavenger hunt, Harry couldn’t be more eager to be done with it. He tells her he’ll submit the papers to their orientation leader so she can go fuck off and find whatever friends she’s made, and she does, without even a bit of arguing. It makes Harry sigh as he’s walking back to the big barbecue event in the quad. He feels bad for his cocky response — he didn’t even mean it, and it came off so arrogantly that she would probably forever associate him with it until they went their separate ways. 
He has a hockey thing tonight — the rest of the team that aren’t first-years are already back on campus, practicing and gearing up for the start of the season, so the coach invited him to come meet everyone — but he can’t shake how shitty he feels about someone already hating him. He decides he’ll offer an olive branch of cheese fries (he opts out of a burger or hot dog, just in case she’s vegetarian). He spots her sitting at a table in the same shady spot they were in earlier, two other girls by her side as they chat. From here, she looks happy, engaged in casual conversation with people she could’ve met today or known for years — he really can’t tell.
When he makes it over to their table, he expects Y/N to at least look up at him, some sort of recognition in her expression, but instead she just looks… confused? Bored?
“Hey,” Harry greets awkwardly, feeling that their conversation immediately took a pause due to his presence. He places the cheese fries down on the table. “I’m sorry again about today. I don’t want that to be your first impression of me.”
Based on her demeanor, he doesn’t expect a gracious response; if anything, a lackluster “it’s fine” would have sufficed. But instead, her eyebrow quirks and she cocks her head to the side. 
“I’m sorry. Do I know you?”
It hits Harry in the gut. 
He flounders, his lips parting open and closed like a fish gasping for air. He collects himself a moment later, pressing his mouth into a tight line. 
“You’re right. Must have confused you with someone else,” he replies with a clenched jaw. “Enjoy the fries anyway.”
His legs quickly carry him far away from the table and in the direction of the hockey arena and locker room. He hopes he can pull some skates on and at least shoot around a little, because if he ever has to see that girl’s face again, she’ll have hell to pay.
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secretwritingspot · 5 months
Text
Sleepless Nights- Soft Ending
Pairing: OPLA Sanji x Reader
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Rating/Content Warnings: E/18+ yeah I know I know, FINALLY SOME ACTUAL PORN from the smut writer. But yeah there's...not really fully sex because this is the softer ending but there is something. You'll see.
Summary: The soft ending of Sleepless Nights, Sanji *ahem* helps out Reader with getting to sleep.
Disclaimer(s): Like said above, this definitely isn't full smut like you might be expecting (don't worry, the rough ending gets a LOT more explicit but shh don't tell anyone I told you that). But that said, I'm still quite fond of it and hope y'all will be too!
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"...come here."
His words are barely a whisper when he speaks, keeping his voice as soft and comforting as he can for the time being. He's in motion before you can process it, moving to sit down on one of the galley's more comfortable couches and patting the seat next to him.
Distantly, you feel yourself nod wordlessly and when you swallow, your throat feels tight and your head slightly fuzzy. You can feel your cheeks heating up but everything feels far away and blurry as you sit next to him and stare down, fidgeting with your sleeves.
You don't know how to make the first move or what to expect, if anything, and pray he's better at clearing the awkward tension than you are.
"Can I touch you?"
Though the look in his eyes is almost pleading, his voice stays gentle. He needs you to be certain about this. Needs to know he can have this and wake up able to look at himself in a mirror the morning after.
You nod and hope it's answer enough, your words failing you for the second time that night.
Thankfully it is, and he smiles gently at you like you're a work of art, the most perfect thing he's ever seen. He pulls you into his lap and wraps his free arm around you so that your back is cuddled into his chest as he keeps his voice close, low and comforting.
"Relax, sweetheart. Just relax."
He moves his other hand to your chin and turns your face upwards towards him, and when you finally meet his eyes his breath hitches in his throat.
Breathless. Somehow, you always render him breathless.
Before he can think any better of it he leans down and kisses your jaw, continuing to reassure you along the way as he peppers kisses across your skin. "Take a breath," he instructs gently, pausing for a few seconds before pulling you closer again, his kisses slowly moving down your throat.
Whether it's his words or the affectionate way he touches you, it works- you sigh shakily and relax into his arms, taking a deep breath as you close your eyes and melt into the gentle attention.
You...haven't gotten attention like this in a long, long time.
It makes sense, none of you have. After all, you've been on a ship for months, none of you with a partner on board. It could get...lonely, missing that kind of affection for so long. Even among friends.
Sanji himself was no exception.
His soft hands move up your arms, then across your collarbone. Sanji had an inkling that you had been feeling lonely, and you may not have mentioned it, but it was something he'd always known about you. It made his heart hurt thinking about it- you seemed like the type that could be a bit...needy.
"Shh, that's right darling, just like that. Relax for me, pretty girl."
Still, Sanji knew that those types - people who were needy, who craved affection and love - they don't do so well on pirate ships, even with a crew as lovely as theirs. And it's no shock, really. The sea could get lonely, especially with no one to hold you. But he does his best to make up for that now, all soft touches and softer words. It's hard for him to stop some of his deeper feelings for you from slipping their way into his strings of praise, but he tries.
One of his hands toys with the hem of your shirt before slipping underneath, placing a hand lightly on the bare skin of your waist. You can't help but gasp quietly at the initial, almost overwhelming warmth of his hand on the bare skin of your waist and Sanji coos softly, pressing a kiss to your temple.
"Shhh, that's it, love. Let yourself feel it," he whispers with a small, fond smile as his fingers trail higher up your body, one arm wrapped comfortingly around your waist while the other starts to feel along the bottom edge of your bra. His hands move slowly, taking his time to get a feel for the fabric and all it's details.
To his joy, you do- letting your head fall back to lean against his shoulder with a sigh. He moves his other hand under your shirt with equal caution, not moving other than to get the thin fabric out of the way. The warm hand pressed flat to your stomach caresses reassuringly as the other seems adamant on memorizing every inch of the fabric under your shirt.
You try not to think about how right this all feels.
"I'm going to take good care of you, honey. I'll make sure you get your rest."
His voice is still quiet when he speaks, but now his words carry an undertone of something more raw as he whispers in your ear. His heart aches pleasantly at the way you relax into him, his hands tracing lazy, absent-minded shapes on your skin.
"...a pretty girl like you deserves more than a ship like this, you know."
He hides the emotional admission under an advancement of his touch, sliding a hand into the cup of your bra.
You dissolve into a soft, pretty sigh and arch slightly into his touch. His warm, soft words make you shiver- the idea that you deserve better, that somehow even this, the most wonderful you've felt in months, isn't good enough.
"This ship and I may never be worthy of your perfection, love. But if you need sleep, then you'll get it," he assures as his hand keeps working your chest as he whispers to you, thumbing gently at a nipple as he leans in to press his lips to your throat.
His affection surrounds you in an intoxicating way and you keen softly, melting into him. It feels like Sanji is everywhere- his lips on your neck, leaving affection in the form of peppered kisses as he lavishes you in praise and reassurance. His arms wrapped around you securely, his chest a safe haven to lean into. One of his hands caressing your chest as the other teases his fingers across the skin of your lower tummy, slowly working his way down. You feel completely enveloped in him, absorbed and protected and warm.
Your reaction only encourages Sanji, his words growing husky as things slowly become more intimate, more desperate.
"God, sweetheart. How long has it been since you've felt this way? Since you've had someone take care of you properly?"
"Don't know-"
You admit in a breathless whisper, gasping softly as his hand skates closer and closer to your panties.
His touch makes it hard for you to think, let alone speak. You feel floaty- hazy and fuzzy around the edges and tired, yes, but mostly just warm. He'll take care of you. He'll put you to sleep.
"A while."
"Too long," He whispers back almost immediately, the soft brush of his fingers now just on the edge of your panties. Sanji lets out a low groan at the thought of you being without someone for so long. Sanji was going to fix that.
"You going without this for any amount of time is too long. Let me make up for it, love. You deserve that much, at least."
You can't help but mewl in response to his words, especially now that his fingers are brushing over your panties. Finally, relievingly, he presses the heel of his palm down over your core, applying soft pressure in a way that makes you see stars. The breath leaves your lungs for a moment and you whimper breathlessly, melting.
His hand holds in place for a moment, making you squirm as he teasingly grinds his palm down on your clit. Sanji moves slowly but surely, making sure not to rush too quick. You had been waiting far too long, after all, so a nice slow burn before anything else was probably ideal.
"That feel good, sweetheart?"
You nod hastily, trying to construe just how good it feels before your voice finally comes back to you.
"Perfect," you answer in a breathless whisper, nuzzling into the space beneath his jaw. It really is, it's everything - the gentle pressure of his palm where you need him the most, rubbing in slow, steady circles that make you keen. His other hand massaging your chest, lips and teeth at your neck, nipping softly and whispering in your ear. " 's perfect, Sanji, please."
He hums happily in response, breath catching in his throat at the sight of you. You melt so easily at his touch, like butter in a pan. He thinks if he doesn't get you off right now so you can sleep peacefully he might die of regret, especially since you asked so nicely. He moves his palm in slow circles against your sweet spot in a way that makes you gasp, tracing his nose lightly along the cut of your jaw with a comforting whisper, voice raspy with desire.
"Shh, sweetheart, I've got you. I'll make it all better."
You can already feel yourself working your way up to something as your hips rock back against his hand instinctively and your thighs twitch.
It's so good, it's barely anything at all and yet it's so good, like sugary coffee late in the morning or the warmth of sunlight through windows or a million other things your mind is too tired to conjure right now. It feels like salvation, like a promise of well-earned rest.
Your breaths stutter and catch on the way out and soon each one is a needy whimper, thankful you're too exhausted to be loud as your voice reaches an embarrassingly desperate pitch.
"Shh, sweetheart, let it out," he soothes, tone encouraging and soft and entirely too much. "Come for me."
And you do, the request punctuated by Sanji starting to slowly speed up the circles that his palm grinds into your sex, other hand switching from caressing your curves and simply holding you to thumbing at your nipple at the same time.
The combination of the two feelings is all it takes to push you over the edge, breath catching in your throat with a desperate sort of relief as you finally come undone. It isn't anything intense, but it isn't meant to be- it washes over you in gentle waves, your exhaustion finally starting to sink in as you shiver, riding out the final ebbs and flows of the feeling.
Something about the subtlety of it make it the most beautiful thing Sanji's ever seen.
The way your voice cracks slightly on that final whimper, the way your hips continue to twitch into his palm as you ride it out, the way your thighs tremble and the rest of you just melts, going limp in his arms.
"Atta girl, sweetheart," he whispers, awe-struck.
He keeps moving his hand for a few more moments until your movements finally taper out and you start to relax more deeply against him. He can feel your heart beating, every soft breath, the exhaustion that now hangs in the air, thick and palpable.
In the soft, dark atmosphere of the galley, Sanji moves his hand back up to your waist and simply holds you, the other coming up to comb through your hair as he presses a kiss to your temple.
"You did so wonderfully."
Your only real response to the whispered praise is to hum in satisfaction and mumble something you think was supposed to be words, but you really aren't sure, your sleeplessness finally starting to catch up with you as you're slipping quite quickly.
You're clingy when you come down, he notices, and tucks that fact away in his mind for later when he's feeling romantic. You nuzzle your head into his chest and stay curled up, eyes still closed like you have every intention of falling asleep right then and there.
He would let you, he realizes, looking down at you with a near painful warmth in his chest. Happily.
"...sweet dreams, my love."
He whispers, keeping his voice as quiet as possible to avoid rousing you from the nap you've slipped into and pulling you even closer against him. Though he knows you're already asleep, he can't help but run his fingers through your hair and press tender kisses against your forehead. It's only a few moments later, once his focus is no longer entirely on taking care of you, that his nose twitches.
An odd, acrid smell fills his lungs and permeates the room. Smoke. Something that should be comfortingly familiar twists with the undercurrent of something gone wrong and he cocks his head in an attempt to identify the possible threat before his eyes go wide with an entirely different kind of panic.
Ah, fuck. The rest of the pastries.
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hotpinkstars · 3 months
Note
AHHH LOVED THE AL HAITHAM FIC SMM but if you dont mind what was going through al haithams head when he realized she left??
-> the house will never be the same again pt. 2
synopsis -> after being incredibly disrespected by your husband, alhaitham, you moved to liyue. what is going through his mind when you leave?
a/n -> AHHH i'm so happy you liked it!!! and i don't mind making a pt. 2 at all sorry this has been sitting here for a while but i hope you enjoy! here is part 1.
warnings -> all hurt no comfort, reader never turns up lol
w/c -> 1.2k
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it’s been about a week now, and you’re already settled into liyue. you’ve caught the eye of a bunch of passersby in the city- a sumeru vision wielder living in liyue harbor? 
thankfully, you had the traveler and a kind woman from the qixing named ganyu able to assist you with questions about the city. the first day you got there, she noticed your vision, and asked you all about it. it soon led to the two of you hitting off the start of a friendship in a nice restaurant- with ganyu telling you all of the things to do in liyue, the jobs that can be taken, and how magical the lantern rite especially is. you mentioned to her that you had a passion for the arts, and she immediately helped you look for a side job to make a little bit of mora to pay rent in your nice abode in the middle of the harbor.
“so, were your travels from sumeru alright? i’ve heard trudging through desert is not a very enjoyable experience..” ganyu questioned, a slight grin to be found on her face. “though, i have heard that the city down there is very nice. i would love to visit for myself one day, but with work and adeptal business it makes my days a little tight.”
you nod before replying. “the city is beautiful, especially at night. theres a gorgeous stage down there too, where a young woman named nilou always performs on special events. it’s always been the most majestic part of the city, or at least in my opinion.” 
ganyu lets out a noise of fascination, before giggling a little. “i would love to watch her dance. nilou is a familiar name, some people here strictly go to sumeru just to see her. i bet she’s as wonderful as everyone makes her out to be.” ganyu sighs. “i wonder if she travels? we have nice performing places here, too.”
you nod. “occasionally. it mostly has to be a big event for her to arrive, though.” you take another bite of your food. “but i bet if i asked her, she’d come out for at least a few days.”
that made ganyu smile once more, before she asked another question. “well, this may be an odd question, but do you have any romantic relationships?” 
“well, that's the reason i decided to move here,” now it is your turn to sigh, making ganyu have a confused look dancing across her face. “my partner and i got into an argument. he wouldn’t stop overworking himself, and i simply just wanted him to come to bed. but he’s so stubborn, and he took his work stress out on me. there was… certainly a lot of name calling.”
ganyus look of confusion immediately switches to an apologetic one. “ah, you made the right choice. that’s no way to treat your spouse.” 
you nod in agreement, before finishing your dish and pushing it slightly out in front of you. 
“well, i’m going to head back to my apartment now. this was very nice, we should do it again sometime!” you smile before standing and putting some money on the table. “here, this should be half. have a good night, ganyu!”
“goodnight to you too, y/n! i’ll see you soon.” 
now, back on alhaithams end..
he hasn’t been home in about a week and a half, due to his work causing his presence nearly 24/7. that pretty much means he hasn’t realized you’ve left yet. 
as he walks home, he doesn’t know how he would approach you. does he pretend the issue doesn’t exist? does he keep ignoring you? does he apologize? he thought his mind would split open.
as he walks through the door, he notices that the house is a little… emptier, from when the two of you lived together. he walked through the whole place, looking into the bathrooms to see your products gone. looking at the laundry room, met with no clothes that are yours hanging from the clothesline. and now, when he went to your bedroom…
your pillowcases have been stripped from the bed, and your pillow thrown into the closet. there were only a stack of two pillows, right in the middle of the bed. now his heart was thumping, and really hard. he looked through the dressers. the left side was barren, leaving only his side full. the thing that brought tears to the mans eyes was seeing your wedding ring on your side of the table. 
so you really left him. he stands there, shocked, unknowing of what to do. does he try to find you, or does he let you go? oh, how he regrets ever talking to you the way he did. if he just took your advice, you would be in bed, waiting for his arrival. likely bringing him into a hug, shaking all his worries and stress away as you whispered questions along about how his day was. 
the next few days felt like someone kept coming over to his desk and stabbing his back with blades like his. he felt so regretful, doing everything he can to stay composed while at the same time trying to find where you’ve gone. dehya won’t give him anything besides “somewhere close to sumeru that’s not sumeru.” that could mean you’ve gone to fontaine, liyue, or monstadt. how would he ever find you?
he’d ask the gaurds, and they all told him you went in the direction of the chasm. getting somewhere, but not close enough. he could walk all that way and come up empty handed. he doesn’t have an exact pinpoint on you yet. 
he’d ask nilou. she’d just shrug and say something along the lines of “i heard what happened, but i do not know fully where they went.” 
he walked the paths of the city, lost deep in thought. everyone thought it was a little out of character for someone such as him to look and feel as lost as he is. as much as people wondered what happened, they kept their mouths shut.
and for the people who noticed your absence, too, they’d ask different people who would likely have knowledge. but alhaitham didn’t know where to go now. he could walk the whole chasm and still not have you turn up. he could check every apartment complex in liyue harbor, and knock on every door on the outskirts. he could sail the seas to inazuma, and walk every separate island to see who may be housing you, or what commission you may have been taken in by. he could fall down the very waterfall that leads an entrance to the enchanting location called enkanomiya. he could go to fontaine, dive under the waters, walk every rocky mountain, and even visit the fortress of meropide. he could fight every monster near the city of monstadt, looking upon every rooftop for signs of your art, blown through the city of wind. but he still wouldn’t find you.
now what he doesn’t know is that you’re in liyue harbor, and nobody frets to tell him that anytime soon. for now, they’re just going to let him suffer, the same way he let you.
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sleeplesssmoll · 5 months
Text
I think Vertin might be a tactile person.
Here are examples taken from the voice lines and context clues.  This isn't an all conclusive list of touchy interactions, just what I could find. Someone stop her before she gets hurt. Update: I'm going to keep adding on as we find more interactions together because this is really fun.
Sotheby (hat and hair): Stop it! You can't just touch an adult's head! (She is 13. Vertin probably sees her as a baby and pat her head).
Bette (hands): Ha ha ... They might be a little rough. To tightly grab the eave does require abundant practice. (assuming Vertin is holding her hand. Don’t ask me how we got here.)
Rabies (clothing and torso): Straws ... be hugged. Rabies ... feels it. (she hugged him 🥹)
A Knight (hat and hair): One step further, and you will be in close contact with Someone's nose... As long as you can hit Someone's head. (how close is Vertin standing to the AK? Or maybe she was looking for an invisible head to pat.)
Mesmer Jr (Hands) :Compared to the incurable anxiety, these wounds are minor. Oh, watch your distance. (smh Vertin not everyone likes being touched.)
Melania (hat and hair): "Well done. Please keep on." ...Aren't you going to say that? (more headpats but Melania needs vocal praise too.)
Lilya
Clothing and torso:  Feel awesome? Now it's my turn to pet you. (...what is Vertin petting? This is clothing and torso but I'm lost.)
Hat and hair: You should be grateful that I am too lazy to move now. Or you should know that the first-class pilot’s got a first-glass head-butt, too. (Vertin taking advantage of the moment to give headpats. I'm telling you, its a THING)
Leilani (Hands): Shaka brah! Ooh! Do you want a handshake or a high-five, my friend? I'm fine with either! (She’s so wholesome)
Cristallo 
hat and hair: Are you patting my head? The doctor says, this is a reward for good children. Have I done something right? 
Hands and sleeves: Would you like to hold my hands? I could be with you anytime. (Cristallo is weak and frail. The nurses say she could be blown away by a gust of wind. Despite this she says she’ll be with Vertin anytime. To me it reads as Vertin being worried Cristallo will disappear too. Cristallo notices so she offers to hold hands and says she will always be here as a way to comfort her.)
Darley Clatter
Hat and Hair:  Oh ... I can't deny you are really good at patting.
Clothing and Torso: Take a look at my beautiful muscles! I don't need to explain how fabulous I am. Hey, watch out! Rub me in the direction my mane grows.
Bonus Intimacy : Adorable? Ahh? You don't even have a taste! (Vertin pets him and calls him adorable. Darley, don’t let the girlies know. They might end your noble bloodline.)
Pavia (Hat and Hair): Wanna know how many holes I've made on others' heads? No? Then stop it. (What possessed her to give Pavia headpats?)
Dikke (hat and hair): Thou art overstepping my boundaries, arcanist. (I’m guessing Vertin is at it again with the headpats. Dikke smiles when she says this so she isn’t offended. If anything, she seems amused. )
Eternity (hands and sleeves): Go on, try holding it, and feel its temperature rising in your hand… Easy, sweetheart… take it easy, heh heh… (more hand holding but Vertin wasn’t prepared this time)
An-an Lee (hands and sleeves): What? You want a palm reading? (Vertin, why are you like this? Are you randomly touching people's hands?)
I feel like I should have picked up on this sooner. Gift-giving, hand holding, and headpats. This is the Timekeeper way.
Regulus (hands and sleeves): What do you want? I don't have any spare scratch. (I'm sure she knows you're broke since she's your boss. Vertin's just being Vertin at this point.
Vertin leads Regulus by the hand into her Suitcase in the prologue
Blonney (hands): Interesting! It's been a while since I last met someone who would start with holding hands.
She also holds Blonney's hand as she calms her down during the green lake event.
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hajimeseyo · 4 months
Text
“Tell me something about yourself that not many people know.”
“What's this?” he asks, voice laced with amusement.
“Just answer me, ‘tsuya.” you grumble, head lolling over the side of the bed you're currently spread out on, peering at his upside down figure. “I'm bored.”
Mitsuya hums thoughtfully, pen tapping against the table absentmindedly. Both your homeworks lay abandoned on his table, you having already given up a long time ago and pestering him to do the same, despite his best efforts to stay focused and finish them.
“I have a dragon tattoo on the side of my head.” he says casually.
“WHAT?????” you leap up from your spread-eagle position to gape at him properly. His lips curl into an impish grin at your reaction, the sight sending butterflies flying through your stomach. You swat them away in favour of focusing on the more pressing matter at hand. 
“Yeah.” His hand comes up to tap at the right side of his head. “Right here.”
You scramble off the bed, nearly tripping over yourself as you rush to his side. “Whaaat the fuck. You're the last person I'd expect to ever have a tattoo.” you say as you pull up your chair next to him, plopping down on it.
He huffs in amusement. “I am in a gang, y'know.” 
“I know, but you're like, more well behaved compared to them.” You pause, peering at his face suspiciously. “...right?”
A mischievous smile is all you get in response.
Rolling your eyes, you turn your attention back to the side of his head, peering closely at the short lilac hair, trying to catch a glimpse of the tattoo. You can't see anything, though, due to all the hair fully covering it.
“Can I…?” you raise your hand hesitantly. He nods, grabbing your wrist and bringing it to where the tattoo supposedly lies, the warm touch sending sparks flying through your skin.
Carefully, your fingers gently part his hair to reveal the scalp below. The slight shiver as your fingers make contact with his head doesn't go unnoticed by you, although none of you say a word.
And there, under the lilac strands, you catch glimpses of furling strands of black ink, coiling and curling into something resembling—
“A dragon?” you murmur.
Mitsuya hums. “Mhm. I designed it myself. Cool, huh?” You can hear the pride in his voice.
You snort, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. “I suppose.” Following the strands of ink, you trace down the side of his scalp, mesmerized by the intricate design. Despite your seemingly unimpressed response, you found the tattoo really beautiful, the art style unique and artistic, the way it curves along the side of Mitsuya's head so naturally you wouldn't be surprised if he said he was born with it. Lost in your concentration, you don't notice Mitsuya's slowly reddening cheeks, closing his eyes as his head subconsciously leans into your gentle touch.
The two of you stay like that for a while, in comfortable silence, him enjoying your ministrations, you too absorbed in admiring every detail of the tattoo to notice. 
Until you trace the final curl of the dragon's tail, the trail ending making you snap out of whatever trance you were in, face immediately flushing a deep red as you realized you probably spent way more time touching him than you should've. Your hand instantly jolts back from his head as if it touched hot iron. At the loss of your touch, Mitsuya's eyes slowly fluttered open, gazing lazily at you, the sight once again sending some weird, hot feeling shooting through you. Damn this man and his stupidly pretty face.
You clear your throat, trying to act natural. “Why have a tattoo when you can't even see it under all that hair, though?” 
That question catches him off guard, and he barks out a laugh. “There's a funny story behind it, actually.”
He goes on to tell you the story of how he got the tattoo, from meeting this boy called Draken, to playing games at the brothel, to deciding to become a delinquent and accidentally matching tattoos with Draken. Your jaw dropped more and more as the story progressed, mostly from how unexpected and wild the entire thing was.
“Damn.” you laugh when he finishes. “And here I thought you were this good, well-behaved child who got roped into the gang business by their friends. I mean, abandoning your sisters to graffiti a wall?” you shake your head in mock disapproval. “What a bad child you are.” 
His lips stretch into a sly grin, something dangerous glinting in his eyes. “Oh? Really, [name], you should've known by now.”
He leans forward until his lips are right by your ear, voice coming out in a teasing whisper.
“I can get quite naughty sometimes.” 
...
You're quite certain your face is in flames. 
You sit there, short-circuiting, as Mitsuya leans back into his chair, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. Fumbling, you glance around desperately from something that will save you, and your eyes land on the abandoned exercise books on the table, the whole reason you were at Mitsuya's house in the first place. 
“Oh! Would you look at that! Our homework! That we still have to finish!” You pull your chair back to the other side of the table hurriedly and bury your face in the books, your homework suddenly being the most interesting thing in the world. You hear him chuckle, but he doesn't say anything, picking up his pen and continuing with his work. Your heart finally stops racing, and you think that you're safe until—
“[name]?”
“Hm?”
“I enjoyed that very much. Feel free to do it again if you want~”
“...”
This boy is going to be the death of you.
(part 2 here!)
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reiderwriter · 5 months
Note
Hey lovely! Hope you’re doing good! I was listening to bad idea right? By Olivia Rodrigo and thought it would be a good idea for a Spencer fic, was thinking something something with a little angst, smut and possibly a fluffy ending! ♥️
Ps love your writing 🖤
A/N: Most relatable song released this year, if we're being totally honest with ourselves, right 💀 I hope you enjoy this!
Warnings: (Munch Spencer Truthers, I'm throwing yourself another bone here), Oral (f receiving), fingering, masturbation (male), slight hand job at the end, penetrative sex, cum play, etc. Minors DNI 18+
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Your fling with Spencer Reid from the BAU ended abruptly when he fell off the face of the earth.
You weren't sure how someone who had described himself as technophobic had managed to perfect the art of ghosting someone, but boy had he, and you were still a little bit angry about it.
Even angrier when you saw him plastered over the local news out on a case, explaining to the people how fake tips to the FBI hindered cases more than helped them.
You were angry because he looked so good. His hair was shorter, displaying his all too pretty features prominently, and pissing you off to no end as you still felt your heart beat out of your chest until he'd disappeared into a crime scene again.
You brushed it off and berated yourself until the text came.
It wasn't much, just a quick hello, but you waited for a few minutes anyway to see if he'd say anything else.
When he didn't, you grew frustrated and text him a response.
“Who is this?”
It was petty, but four months of radio silence deserved less, in all honesty.
You weren't expecting the phone to vibrate out of your hand as you waited for a response, but it lit up with his call and you scrambled to wait enough time to pick it up.
“Hello.”
“Hi. It's Spencer. Spencer Reid. Doctor Spencer Reid, from the Behavioural Analysis Unit, this is Y/N right?”
“Yes, Spencer, it's me. My number didn't change after four months.”
“Okay, that was deserved.”
“Why are you calling Spencer?”
“Because I'm a burnt out child prodigy who didn't cure schizophrenia by age 25 and my friends missed my birthday. And because I really wanted to see you.”
The line went quiet as you contemplated what the hell you would say to that.
“It would be stupid to ask if you remembered my address, right?”
“Y/N, I remember what you taste like, and I'll never forget it.”
“Good. I'm locking the door in half an hour.” You didn't give him time to respond before exiting the call and running to your bathroom.
Maybe it wasn't the best idea entertaining a fling from months ago on a whim at 7pm on a Wednesday evening, but you had nothing else to be doing with your time.
It wasn't illegal for people to reconnect, and you were not going to mention this to any close or mutual friends of yours, so one conversation (or whatever this was) probably wouldn't have any consequences anyway.
Caution blown to the wind, you replaced your work clothes with a comfortable dress, fixed your hair and poured a glass of wine and waited.
As if on queue, 27 minutes later, Spencer was at your door. Or more accurately in your house.
Your threat to lock the doors had obviously spurred him on, and you heard the door handle twist as he stepped into the space.
“Spencer. How lovely, to what do I owe the honor?”
The adrenaline of making sure the door was unlocked had obviously worn off for him, as you saw him shift awkwardly in the doorway of your living room, sat comfortably on your couch, your skirt just riding high enough to distract.
“I was thinking. Well, I suppose the correct term would be overthinking. Emily had to snap me out of it, because I was kicking myself and doubting myself and worrying so much that we almost lost the unsub…”
“What I’m trying to say is I’ve regretted not doing too many things to think coming to beg you to kiss me again is a bad idea. It’s not a bad idea, right?”
“That depends, Spencer.” You replied, setting your glass of wine down and standing up. You took a wobbly step towards him, eager to blame your hesitancy on the wine rather than the things his gaze, his words and his simple presence was doing to your body.
“On if you only want a kiss.” Your hand gingerly slipped up his chest until it was hooked into his hair, exploring the shorter locks as he grabbed you by the waist.
“Or if you aren't satisfied with just that.”
“I can't seem to come up with an answer. Perhaps you should kiss me and it'll jog my memory.”
You finally cracked a smile, and saw his face instantly bloom into ot as well.
“Nu-uh Spencer. I think you have to take that chance this time.”
He hesitated only a second before his hands were cradling your face, tipping your chin up to him as he bent to kiss you. You immediately responded, letting your hands grab fistfuls of his shirt as you pulled each other closer.
It sent you off balance, but you let yourself follow the motion of you tipping backwards, letting him catch you as you began moving in the direction of your bed.
“Not a bad idea,” he mumbled between deep kisses, letting loose a stray moan when your hands trailed down to his belt and below. “Definitely not a bad idea.”
Somehow in the clash of lips and hands, you managed to make it back to your bed, his hands already managing to find themselves under your dress as his lips diverted your attention.
“Four months, Spencer.” You growled the words into his mouth as your tongues battled for dominance. “Four months without this. I thought I'd go insane.”
You felt him smile as he lifted you, and grinned too as you wrapped your legs around him just as he began climbing onto the bed, softly lowering you down until he was on top of you.
His tongue travelled down your neck, making his way back up towards your ear.
“I did go a bit insane, you know?”
His hands flipped up your skirt as he ground his dick against your crotch, pushing it up further until the bottoms of your breasts were peaking out of the scraps of material as well.
“Let me make it up to you?” It was phrased like a question he didn't care about the answer to, as he pushed off of you and completely rid your body of the material that was hindering it completely.
“That's better.” You swore you heard a sigh of contentment as he held your thighs apart and lowered his head, one kiss at a time, to your neglected pussy.
He hooked a ginger under your panties, and pushed them off to the side, but he'd never been the most patient, and he'd already spread your legs. He'd just work around the impediment, you knew.
And he did, starting with a casual flick of the tongue as he looked up at you from his place at your cunt, smiling at you as he began to feast.
You'd never thought of yourself as a pillow princess before Spencer, enjoying giving love as much as receiving but he gave you the perfect royal treatment, and enjoying it so much it was impossible to deny.
After getting so spoiled, it was a wonder that you even knew how to adapt to life without him, nothing compared to the care and attention he showed you in bed.
Your thoughts blended together as he pressed a finger into you, already sneaked with his spit and your wetness, collected from between his lips and your soaked cunt. His pace was steady, repetitive, and driving you fucking insane.
Never a demanding lover, before you would have simply let him enjoy his time between your legs, enjoying just how much he enjoyed it himself as he lapped up all of your juices.
But four months clean from your addiction to Spencer Reid and you were snapping.
Your hands gripped at his hair, pressing his face further into your cunt than he'd been before, enjoying the muffled moans and the sound of his tongue generously lapping up all you had to offer.
You started humping his mouth, holding his head still as you used him as a tool to get yourself off, finally cumming on his mouth with a shudder and an unfiltered moan.
It would've been embarrassing if it wa anyone else, just how loud you'd been for your ex-boyfriend.
“You taste the same.” He said, wiping the remainders of your cum from his lips as he stroked himself, having loosed his cock from his pants sometime between you moaning like a wanton whore and using his face as a sex toy.
A single glance at him over you pleasuring himself was enough to get you ready for round two.
He had sat up on his knees, head and torso tilted slightly back to give you a better view of his cock being pumped hard and fast.
“Spencer Reid, don't you dare make yourself cum.” You thought the words were joking, light even but even you were shocked by the sheer lust dripping from your throat.
Wrapping your legs around him again, you pulled yourself up into his lap, holding yourself still as you quickly unfastened each of his shirt buttons, pushing it away and chucking it so far that he wouldn't be able to use it to cover up anything else.
It took you a minute more to properly situate yourself, but soon you were sinking down onto his cock and allowing the stretch to rule your mind and movements for a minute.
You gently started riding him, letting each gasp and moan reach your ears and spur you on, not holding back on your side either, telling him just how good it felt to have him in you raw once again.
Your stamina wasn't great though especially after having had one powerful orgasm already, and your movements soon became sloppy.
He kissed you softly on the lips, and you let go of the tension in your body as he pushed you onto your back, made sure you were comfortable, and started beating his cock into you with such a force that you were sure the bed was going to break.
It was this intensity that you craved, this complete change from his insistence on putting you first so to speak, and then using you as a human sexton when it suited him, allowing his cock to push you to your limits and beyond.
It wasn't like you could protest anyway, mouth hanging limply open in a scream of pleasure as sparks shot up your spine.
Entertaining Spencer Reid was never a bad idea. You decided then and there that if he left you again for whatever reason, you'd hunt him to the ends of the earth and beg for another chance at this feeling of pleasure.
You came again, of course, not sure if it was his cock or his exploring hands that was tethering you to the moment as you died a little death.
His own orgasm wasn't far behind your own, but he'd always been a bit messy. You weren't surprised when he gave a small panicked moan, pulling out at the last second as his cum spurted out. You helped him ride it out, wrapping a hand around him to stroke him until his dick was drained, the contents sprayed across your chest and breasts, a single drop even making it to the side of your mouth, but that was quickly lapped up.
His aftercare was almost as good as his foreplay, as he took pains to wash you diligently, even as all you wished to do was sleep well into the night directly after feeling his hot cum pour onto you.
He'd gathered a wash cloth, fresh set of pyjamas and an extra blanket to cocoon you both in before you could even lift a finger, and climbed into bed before you could even think of asking if he was staying the night.
With the satisfaction of multiple orgasms finally catching you, you fell asleep in his arms, a grin plastered on your lips, his hands possessively surrounding you.
Needless to say, when you woke in the morning, he was still there.
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