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#it’s been laying in my canvas for a bit
bananacat76 · 1 month
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i never finished this and i don’t think i will so i might as well share it
they all bestays..
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astrxealis · 1 year
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i really want to make gifs of fuuta's 2nd trial mv while it's still really new. idk if i should post them if ever though... <- has never posted any of my edits of any sort and gifs. even icons
#⋯ ꒰ა starry thoughts ໒꒱ *·˚#⋯ ꒰ა milgram ໒꒱ *·˚#nah i only have like. access to canva for paid. and it's education and not even pro LMAO ty to school for providing canva education <3#yeah but i only really use canva and photopea and take a fucking long time doing anything related to editing#it's fun and a great way to pass time esp bcs i take a long time but for time efficiency... not really <//3#i'll do my homework first and then ya ^___^#i want photoshop but if you get me i don't want to YEAH. not only do i hate yeah i also don't like paying often#like ofc i do for what i need but i. barely spend my money (it helps knowing that idk how much money i even have)#idk maybe it sounds good like 'yo you don't waste money' but also it sucks idk how to handle money at all and stuff#i rmbr being so excited planning for getting ffxiv. laying out the costs and all. LMFAO ya i only really pay for xiv sub and that's it#cash shop i only have a few stuff bcs i've been there for old events and my friend (very generous. big brother guy) gifted us stuff#fuuta's voice is so good. man i keep getting distracted this went from editing to money and then ffxiv and then fuuta#UHM ANYWAYS...... anyways............. yeah i just do really simple edits. just literally changing the color and all#but you see i often like things most when it comes from me. or my friends. or if it is personalized#so i don't like taking random things! idk the process feels best when it comes from me but i also love stuff that have heart in it#and if it's yk. oh. this is for me. ig i'm just used to mostly having to do things for myself bcs i don't get it often from others </3#braindead. it is 1 pm. i will finish my homework (soon!)#i love all milgram characters. i was a bit yk to muu and kotoko but i think i understand kotoko better after studying fuuta more#and i get now ^^ it's a bit hypocritical to vote her innocent and fuuta guilty but at the same time it depends on what you value#and also did people really not expect her to. do that. hello. i saw that coming from a mile away but yeah you can't predict the future#so makes sense too! tbh im a fuuta innocent guy but i do believe guilty first trial is best but also wow the effects of guilty 1st trial#were yeah. but taste of his own medicine (real!) i just hope the others get that too. in time.#specifically muu and kotoko bcs though i love them they still iff me a bit (is that even a word)#tbh my feelings on milgram characters are complicated but i think i'm complicating it too ngl.#obsessed with mikoto though. his voice!!! his va slaying as always#tbh w kotoko it's mostly that i think she's getting ahead of herself. in a way. i think that's how to say it but i'm not sure#with muu. i think i get her but it's more of fuuta for me and i think that's why yeah? but i like muu she was one of the first that#caught my eye from b4 i watched the mvs and all!! i think it might be that she reminds me a tiny bit of myself#but in a way i'd rather not admit or something i don't like about myself that makes me like her less. curious#hi um i wrote a lot more tags but they stopped after 30 oops. i took screenshots tho <3 anyways this is a 20 minutes post BYE
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grugruel · 2 months
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The Girl Who Cried Cowboy
Parings: dbf!cowboy!bucky x f!reader
NSFW/MDNI
Masterlist
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Summary: When drinking too much at one of her father's summer parties, she realises just how inappropriate her feelings are for her fathers best friend. And he has to drive her home.
Word count: 3.2
Warnings: cowboy hat, rough sex, pinv sex, kintchen-counter sex (woooh), doggy, creampie, praise, strong feelings, "I love you", mutual pining, tension, pet names (sweetheart, girl, ma'am, darlin', woman), slight angst, sundress kink, hair pulling.
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Low chatter and calm music soothed her, tuning her mind to familiar nostalgia as she faded into memory of old summer nights.
Nights much like this one.
The singing birds, the perfectly temperatured air, and the warm kisses from the last rays of the setting sun.
Her parents' big grass-clad backyard in which she sometimes slept, like now, she enjoyed the infiltrating clovers that softened the ground beneath her.
And the blue open sky that stretched above her like a lustriously painted ceiling. It was deep at this hour, but not dark. Even so, it slowly lightened as it merged into the pastel colors of the horizon.
Her world whirled, stretching and contracting mildly as a slight buzz from her many emptied beers took a pleasant hold of her senses. She smiled, putting the half spilled bottle to her lips once again. Not minding one bit that she had toppled over, rather just loving the way the grass tickled her skin as her sheer sundress bunched high on her thighs. Especially enjoying the way it moved against her nipples, now very glad she'd opted out of wearing a bra today–
'You sure know how to catch my attention, sweetheart.' A voice mused.
She faced its source but already knew who it belonged to, its presence only making her night better. He'd always been her favorite out of her dad's friends.
The sun painted her face a golden orange, as she turned toward him. A tall, blurry figure stood by her side, she squinted, and a handsome cowboy materialised. The shapes forming him steadied. She could make out the gruff hands around his belt buckle, his face, and the cowboy hat on his head. Which was busy shielding his eyes from the sun, their intent gaze observing her from beneath its rim.
She smiled knowingly. 'Buck!' She erupted, throwing her arms upward as if to hug him from the ground, spilling beer all around her in the process. 'Join me.' She giggled, and her arms fell to pat the ground at her sides.
The cowboy shook his head with a chuckle. He had never been able to say no to her.
Her bare, bent knees lulled against his lap as she moved closer to his relaxed form. She took another swig of beer, then pointed at the sky above them.
Towering over their laying forms, the sky held a full moon in its mixing colors, the suns reflection only illuminating its silvery brightness and amplifying the contrasts.
'Ain't it pretty?'
-
His wandering eyes roamed her face, the alcohol fueled blush that adorned it, and the strands of wild hair that framed her like a canvas. He wanted noting more than to push them behind her ears so he could admire her in full. He willed his eyes from traveling south. He could not, it was unfair to her and her father.
-
He hummed. 'Sure is.'
She shut her eyes, attempting to collect herself. It must be the alcohol, surely. But she hadn't even had that much to drink, had she? She placed the hat on her head properly. Forgetting herself entierly.
She faced him again, meeting his eyes. He watched the blush expand across her face as she realised it was her that he was talking about. The girl, suddenly shy. Grabbed his hat from his head and covered her giggling face. His charm was dangerous, she couldnt help herself around him. Her face poked out from beneath the hat, eyes studying him carefully as he looked back up at the moon. The colors of the sky and the green of the grass running parallel to his profile. His forehead, nose, lips, and chin placed perfectly in between them, running like a mountain range in a horizon. She got a strong urge the kiss his perfectly handsome face– ugh, fuck. . .
'Buck?'
He hummed.
'Could you drive me home?' She just needed to sleep it off, these feeling would be gone in the morning. She was sure.
He looked back at her. '. . .'Course darlin.' His eyes wandered over his hat, on her head. His lips tightened into a line as he cleared his throat.
The girl nodded. 'Can you tell dad? I hate to leave the party early, but I think I over did the drinkin'. . .' She lied. She wasn't sick, nor drunk, drunk. She just felt too guilty to speak with her dad directly when these types of thoughts ran rampid about his best friend.
Her world devolved into streaks of color as he pulled her to her feet. The booze affected body betrayed her as the footing failed beneath her feet– she collided with his chest, and his quick hands shot to her waist– catching her before she took another tumble. 'Easy there.' His drawl in full effect.
He laughed, but nodded. 'He'll understand, im sure. Your father's a wise man.' And grabbed her shoulder, and squeezing it reassuringly. Then stood, and held his hand out for her to take.
Everything whirled around her, everything except him. She could see him perfectly clear. The pair locked eyes, enjoying the feeling of his big hands molding to her waist. Something tugged on them, pulling them closer to each other. Lips brushing, noses touching. She felt dizzy, the pair of them hiding their faces under the brim of his hat. It somehow felt easier. Hands slipping to her hips, squeezing. Their heavy breathing, drinking each other in, and the squeeking of the patio door– in horror they pulled off of each other, akwardness seeping into the space between them. She kept her eyes on the ground as she realised she was wearing his hat. She'd put it on, hadn't she? Oh. . . Fuck– but she had no time to worry about its insinuations right now, and quickly removed it, pushing it back into Bucky's hands.
'Ah, there you both are!' It was her dad, walking in a straight line toward them.
She prayed he hadn't seen anything. As everyone had moved the party inside when the night began to fall.
He slapped a hand on buckys shoulder, greeting him happily.
Thank god, she sighed in relief.
But there was an akward silence, where none of them said much of anything for a second.
'Whats goin' on, who died?' Her father joked, a dry chuckle following it. But a tinge of true uncertainty lingered in his voice as he looked at them with skeptical eyes.
'Im just not feelin' to good.' She scrambled to explain, as bucky scratched his neck, not managing to come up with a good excuse himself. 'I was thinkin' of headin' home. Buck'll drive me.'
Her father gave her a slanted smile and ruffled her hair. 'Yeah? To much to fast?'
She nodded, a faint smile on her lips. 'Sorry.'
He tilted his head, searching her eyes. 'Dont apologize sweetheart. Its ok. I'll see ya' later, yeah?'
She nodded again, and he kissed her on top of her head.
She loves her dad, and to prove it she'd almost kissed his best friend. Shame gnawed at her, she couldn't do that to him.
He turned to Bucky. 'You comin' back later then?'
'I'm not sure.' Bucky dared a flicker of a glance in her direction, and lowered his voice. 'Gotta get 'er home first, make sure shes alright.'
Her father nodded, seamingly appreciating the gesture. If he only knew.
'But you'll notice if I turn up.' Bucky laughed, attempting a joke to defuse the situation and playfully hit her father on the arm.
He smiled. 'Well, alright, good then. Drive safe.' The men gave each other a short embrace. 'Thank you, Buck. You're a good friend.' She heard her father whisper as they patted each other on the back warmly.
Guilt, shame, neither could begin to describe what she was feeling. She'd need to invent a new word for it.
The walk to the truck was quiet. The only proof of the life altering almost-kiss was the comforting hand he placed on her back, and now held much more meaning than that in which an old friend once had.
The sun disappeared beyond the distant treeline. A big wheatfield separated it from the dirtroad they found themselves driving down. Trees lined its path, their leafy crowns casting a high overhang above them.
Oh, how stunning, but the window would not wind down. Frustrated, she pushed it repeatedly. Her mind was not wrapping around the fact that it just wouldn't work, pure stubbornness egging her on. As she dared not ask Bucky for help. They'd been riding in silence ever since the encounter with her dad–
'You feelin' any better?' He asked, clearing his throat. The anxious avoidance of speaking had created a croak in it.
She had too much on her mind. She was overheating, just wanting some air. 'I'm fine, just a little warm.' The button was taunting her, no matter how hard she pushed it.
'Just– slow down, doll.' Bucky reached over her seat to unlock the door, then pushed the button to lower the window. Oh. . .
Sweet relief, she leaned her head against the frame of the open window. The freshness of nature and its many scents rolled into the truck in waves of pure air, clearing her mind of what it could. But as it mixed and matched with Buckys own, his perfume and masculine musk, rubbed her senses just right. It began working in the opposite effect.
'Thank you.' She spared him a glance, smiling faintly. Immidietly regretting it as she was reminded of how good he looked in the hat.
His hand fell from the door to her knee. It was supposed to be a harmless gesture, one he'd done may times before. 'You're welcome, sweetheart.'
Oh. . But this time, everything slowed, shes sure of it. Flames that should not have sparked inside her were now, in fact, raging. She screwed her eyes shut. Damp breeze, floweres, grass, birds. . . She tried to focus, to think of something else, but– hand, his hand. Moving in slow-motion, squeezing the flesh above her knee. Then, the loss of his touch.
Her eyes shot open, and suddenly, time hastened again– she grabbed his hand and without even thinking, replaced it higher on her thigh. Her eyes widened in realisation, and she felt the cowboys eyes bore into her. God, it's hard to breathe all of a sudden.
'Girl. . .' There laid warning in his tone. They were headed into dangerous territory. Yet without heeding his own warning, his fingers dug into her upper thigh, eyes landing on the pushed up skirt of her dress. He grabbed it between his fingertips and pulled it down, exhaling a big breath as if it took everything in him not to do the opposite.
She shook her head in compressed motions, the feeling of his skin was heavenly. His hand alone, without touching any crucial parts of her, set her aflame. Hesitation still lingering in her body as she fought her thoughts.
The car screeched to a halt, they'd arrived at her house. Fuck, thank, god.
She reached for the door, realising in horror that she still held onto his hand. As she made to shake herself free, he entwined his fingers with hers and sighed, knowing full well why she was in such a rush. 'Hold on now, darlin', slow down.' He met her eyes. 'Let me help you down, at least.'
Breathe, she willed herself, and nodded to him. Waiting impatiently for Bucky to open her door. Her world spinning, the real problem was that it simply wasn't alcohol induced anymore.
The door opened, and he gripped her waist, lifting her out in a swift motion. Her skin– well, everything tingled at his touch. He set her down, on steady feet, and unsteady mind. 'We should talk about this.' He tried, following her as she marched toward her door.
'About what? There's nothing to talk about.'
'Darlin'. . .'
'Stop.' She whipped around to face him. 'Just stop. I'm not your darlin', 'N I'm sure as hell not your sweetheart.' She hissed and continued walking. The words hurt her as much as they must've hurt him. God, the walk to her house felt never ending.
'I just– I care for you sweeth–' He stopped, footsteps no longer sounding behind her. '. . .'N I love your father too. I've known him for most of my life. Feeling this way 'bout ya' doesn't come for free.'
Too? He said "too" didn't he?
She turned around. 'Too?' Her knees felt weak, her mind muddled by conflicting thoughts of her father and the man in front of her. And he was quite a sight, the picture of a cowboy in fact. Putting weight on one leg, he held his belt, and his hat covered his face as he tilted it down in silent brooding. How she imagined all cowboys did.
He sighed. 'Well–' shoulders shrugging. 'What'ya expect, beautiful as you are. Inside 'n out.' He walked up to her. His hand reached for her face. She should back away. She knew she should, but her feet wouldn't move. The backs of his fingers stroked strands of hair from her face, thumb caressing her cheekbone, his touch gentler than any man before him.
He laid his forehead against hers. 'I love y–'
She kissed him. He could not utter those words. Not yet. This was not the time.
Electricity shocked her nervous system. She could feel his hunger as he cupped her face, deeping the kiss. Yet, his needy lips slowed themselves for her sake, her uncertainty.
She pulled free, gasping for breath as she had forgotten it was a necessity and grabbed his hand, leading him to the house. Eyes looking back at him, speaking more than words ever could. It was just the matter of interpreting them.
He stood leaning against her kitchen counter, observing her as she sauntered toward him. Dress billowing around her thighs. Was this really happening?
He reached for her, laying his hands at her waist and taking the fabric of her dress between his fingers, pulling her toward him. 'I really do, you know.'
Her hand reached up to comb through his hair. 'Save it.' She smiled, her other hand sliding over her dress, stopping at her waist where the bow that tied the dress together was. Slowly, as he kept his eyes locked on hers. She pulled on the string, letting it come undone, and her dress fell open.
Bucky made a sound between a gasp and a moan, barely daring to take his eyes from hers. 'I'm at your mercy, sweet girl. Tell me what to do.' He breathed, eager fingers waiting for her approval.
His words were setting butterflies to flight. Her free hand grabbed his, and led it between the fabric of her dress and her body. Laying it atop her breast. 'Touch me.' She whispered.
Shivers, shivers, and goosebumps spread in waves over her chest as his fingers came in contact with her soft flesh.
She advanced, and he obliged her request as his other hand ran down her side, snaking around her back and grabbing her ass to pull her closer against his chest.
'Please. . .' He pleaded. 'I need to feel you.' His hands squeezed her breast, producing a whimper from her lips. 'Taste you.' He leaned forward, brushing his lips against hers, lining her bottom lip with his tongue. 'Anything, anything you're willin' to give me.'
Her brows furrow in tortured pleasure. Waves of pressure inside her that had no outlet, nowhere to go except to her core and mind. Her thoughts were mere static at this point, all of them reduced to neurons.
'Take all of me. . . All at once.' She exhaled, the air that they exchanged with one another merged into one unisome breath.
A pained grunt. 'You sure?' He grabbed his hat to remove it.
She grabbed his hand, stopping. 'You better keep that hat on,' she warned, then nodded. 'And, im sure.' She looked into his eyes. 'Now. . . fuck. me.' She demanded.
With that, he grinned and spun her around, pressing her up against the counter. Hips colliding with the countertop in a hard thud, but she did not care. All she wanted was him, and for this short moment when they were together, truly together, her father could be damned.
His hands ran up the side of her thighs, hiking her skirt onto his wrist, and flipped it over her ass. She groaned in pain. 'Can't wait any longer, hurry up.'
'Easy girl. . ' He slowed her as he tugged her pretty lace panties to the side, moaning at the sight of her. 'Stunnin'. . '
Her mind fogged, she disappeared for a moment, not really thinking about what was happening until she heard his belt buckle and then, finally. She felt him.
His hand moved to her hip as the other aligned his tip with her entrance, and without any more thinking and delaying, he pushed inside.
A mix between a whimper and a moan pushed its way out of her lungs. 'Fuck, yes.'
Her hands braced against the countertop, protecting her hipbones against the hard surface as he began thrusting.
But it wasn't enough. 'C'mon cowboy, harder.' A moan and breath combined into one.
His hand slid up her back, unintentionally tickling her the entire way. He grabbed her hair and circled it around his fist, then held her steady as he pushed himself into her even rougher.
'Mmmh. .' She hummed. But she needed more. She'd waited so long for this that she'd be damned if there wouldn't be bruises to remember him by. 'You can do better. . Mhh- fuck.' She moaned, struggling to get her words out as he bent over her, his thrusts reaching even deeper. He leveled his head with hers, and bit into her shoulder. His blissfull muffled moans made right at her ear, and along with them came the hot puffs of breath and the dirty sounds of slapping skin. Everything scratched the nervous center in her brain, just right. 'Yeah. . . Like that, mhm. . Show me how much you, uh-huh. –need me.' She managed, her words stuttering and stumbling.
'Feels so good.' He groaned. 'My darlin' girl.'
She no longer protested. She was his, in every sense of the word. And she loved it
'Yours, just yours.' She breathed.
'Good girl.' He moaned, obviously approving of her recognition.
She could not take much more. '. . 'M close Buck.'
He nodded, his forehead resting against her shoulder. She could barely make out his nodding against her shoulder in response. He must be close, too.
'I need to see ya' girl– wanna see ya'. . . See ya' cum.'
She couldn't answer. She only moaned in approval. But it was enough for him. His swollen member had her walls clenching, sucking and squelching around his member. Pulling him closer and closer to the edge.
He pulled out of her, spun her around, and lifted her by the hips onto the counter. His strength would never, not turn her on. And without missing a beat, slammed back into her again. 'Fuck! Just like that cowboy.' She cried. Their lips meeting in needy, rushed movements as they both approached their climax. Knots tightening, pressure building, and pressure realising.
In blinding hot waves, pleasure coursed through her as her orgasm finally arrived. 'Oh, girl. .' he moaned, sounding close to a whimper as it was uttered against her lips and into her mouth. 'My good, good girl.'
Oh, she wanted to cry. She wanted to cry so badly. But Bucky got there first, as he too came. Tears of joy and pleasure fell down his cheeks as powerful spurts of seed filled her core, and he collapsed to his knees. Throwing his arms around her hips, his head lulled into her lap.
'I love you.' He murmured, kissing her thighs in slow, sloppy kisses. Lovingly holding his arms tightly around her, afraid she'd disappear. He uttered, 'I love you.' Over and over again, between and during his kisses, it did not matter to him. He just needed to say it, and for her to hear it.
She watched him with awe, how could she never have known, or felt– not even seen a glimpse of the man before her, a man that worshipped her in this way. She ran her hands through his hair, scratching his scalp and nape soothingly as she smiled. Heart filled to the brim, for him.
'I love you too, Buck.' She whispered. 'Love you terribly, I think have for a long time, cowboy.'
He looked up at her, his chin resting on her knees as she slumped back against the cabinets, both catching their breaths. 'You'll be the death of me, woman.' Another tear rolled down his cheek, but there was no sorrow. Only proof of powerful stimulation, along with long pent-up feelings and needs.
She jumped off of the counter. 'Need ya' once more, before you head back.'
He grabbed her wrist and kissed his way up her forearm from his place on the floor. 'Yes, ma'am.'
She laid an index finger under his chin, tilting his face upward so their eyes could meet. 'Good. . .' She lifted the hat from his head, and placed it on herself with a smile. '. . .'Cause I still gotta ride ya'.'
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frannyzooey · 1 year
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One Bed
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Joel Miller x f!reader
Rating: Explicit
A/N: Just shameless "there is only one bed" filth for the amazing beauty who is @jollyrancher87. Thank you for sending me your ask, my lovely - I hope you like it! ❤️
--
“Goddamn it.”
He sighs, his fingers curled around the straps of his backpack as he shifts his weight to one foot and you step around him to see what he is looking at. 
Oh. 
“I mean,” you start carefully, “At least there’s one?”
You both look at the set of beds in front of you: one perfectly fine, if not a bit worn and dusty, and the other one covered in a pool of water from a crack in the ceiling above. It’s been dripping on it awhile, long enough for silt and plaster to form a sort of sludge on the top of the comforter and you only imagine how thick the mold is underneath. 
“Just take it,” he says, shrugging his pack off and you frown, shaking your head. 
“You’re the one with the bad back, you take it. I’ll make do on the floor.”
Impatience and exhaustion flares bright in his reply, his expression one of frustration. “I’m not gonna let you sleep on the fuckin’ floor while I get the bed. Just take it. I’ll be fine.”
He places his pack on the floor, kneeling down to join it. Resting his head on the rough, dirty canvas and folding his tight arms across his chest, he looks so comically uncomfortable that you fight the urge to laugh. 
“Jesus, Joel, get up.” You tap the toe of your boot against the heel of his and he looks up at you with a frown. “Look, it’s not huge or anything, but we should both be able to fit. Get up here.”
His eyes narrow, and you roll your eyes, turning away from him. You feel his gaze on you as you set your pack down and toe your boots off, placing them both at the end of the bed. Pulling back the covers, you lay down and tug them up and over you, laying still. 
“You coming?”
There is a beat, and then you hear another deep sigh escape him from the floor. 
“Fine.”
Practically asleep before his head hit the pillow, he wakes in the middle of the night. Not the sort of sudden jolt that he’s used to, but rather a slow, hazy pull from the depths that he’s often not afforded. He’s been sleeping deeply, and what wakes him is that he’s hot – too hot, uncomfortably hot. He moves to push away the covers when he touches something else instead - you.
You’ve wound around each other in your sleep: your face buried in the crook of his neck, your arms curled against the width of his chest, his leg tucked in between your own with his arm slung protectively over the curve of your side. He can tell you’re still asleep from your slow, steady breaths and he tries to carefully extract himself, but for every inch he moves back, you unconsciously press closer. 
He tries to rouse you instead, his hand gently shaking your shoulder. 
“Hey,” he whispers softly, in the dark. “Hey. Wake up.”
Expecting you to wake with a start, he tries not to think about how the only reason you’re probably so deeply asleep is his close proximity. How he himself slept just as deeply for the same reason. 
He shakes you again. “Hey.”
Your eyes still closed, a small frown pulls between your brows. You tilt your face up, still half asleep and when your mouth brushes his, he freezes. He doesn’t move, abandoning the attempt to wake you and he thinks you’ve fallen back asleep when your arm unfurls from his chest, reaching up to cup his cheek. He lets you touch it for a moment, his eyes taking in your face in the dark. 
Your mouth is so close to his he can feel warm puffs of your breath skimming over his lips, your face so close that he can see the fan of your thick lashes and your nose brushes against his in a sleepy nuzzle, seeking out his warmth. Your hand slides up into his hair, fingers threading into the thick strands. 
He should pull back and stop this, but he doesn’t. 
“Joel,” you whisper slowly, your mouth full and soft with sleep.
His eyes drop to it for a moment and it looks so plush and inviting that he can’t help himself.
When his mouth meets yours in a chaste press, you kiss him back with an unconscious purse of your lips, opening them just enough to fit his lower lip neatly between your own. He breathes you in, letting them rest together in a full, lush fit and then you’re giving him another one; a firmer, more conscious pressure. Another one yet, his hand cradling the soft curve of your cheek to keep you in place. 
You fit yourself closer to him, your thighs tightening around his own and your nails drag over his scalp, his fingers pressing into the hinge of your jaw in a silent request to open yourself wider for him. You taste sweeter than he thought you would, your sleep-thick mouth warm and inviting and hungry and when he shifts to lean over you, you tug him on top of you instead. 
You might have been sleeping before, but he knows you’re fully awake now even if you won’t open your eyes. Your movements are intentional, the width of his body heavy and solid between your legs, comforting in its weight and your head tips back into the pillow, pulling away from the kiss for some air. He doesn’t seem to need any, his mouth molding around the curve of your jaw before sliding down the length of your neck and he gives the sweet skin there open mouthed kisses, a slight suck to them. His teeth catch, and you quietly moan. 
Bringing his mouth back to yours, his beard brushes against your skin, your tongue chasing his as you deepen the kiss and when he lets out a low groan into your mouth, you swallow it down, savoring it. 
He sounds just like he does in your dreams, just like the way this feels. Slick and needy between your legs, you roll your hips up to meet his in a wordless invitation and he presses his down into you, making room for himself. Soon you’re grinding against each other in desperation: your achingly empty core seeking out the solid heft that you can feel pressed against you, his own need evident. 
“Joel, I –,” you whisper into his mouth in between kisses, a pleading creeping into the word and he nods, knowing what you need. 
His hand reaches down and fumbles with his belt, another groan pouring into your mouth when he feels the heat of you against the back of his hand and then he’s working on the button of your jeans, trying to work it open. You try to help, but it’s not fast enough for him and with your thumbs still hooked under the waistband to slide them down, he shoves his hand underneath everything to find your slick seam, filling you swiftly with two thick fingers. 
“Fuck,” you whine, abandoning your plan and arching your hips into his hand. He curls his fingers and begins a grinding stroke, the digits a snug fit in their slick slide.
“Goddamn,” he groans, muscle memory making him reach for a spot inside. He finds it, rubbing the pads of his fingers against it and is rewarded with your breathless cry, and a tight clench. “You’re so fuckin’ wet for me. So wet. Gonna feel so good around my cock. Gonna make me come, with this sweet little pussy.” 
His fingers work, work, work underneath your jeans and you can’t even answer him with how good it feels. You let your thighs drop open wider, your hands reaching down to splay over the curve of his ass and you meet every one of his strokes with your hips, forcing his fingers deeper. He looks down at you with hooded eyes, his mouth parted as he watches you take. 
“I want a taste,” he breathes, pushing his fingers in as deep as they can go, down to the base of his bruised knuckles. “I want –” he kisses you greedily, panting into your mouth. “I want to taste it, but I –”
You want him to taste it too - Christ, you do – but you need him to fuck you right now more than you need air to breathe, so you wrap your hand around his wrist with a tug and he slips it out from your pants, your hands already working on shoving your jeans down. He understands, his weight abruptly leaving you to sit up and back on his heels and when he helps you strip them off along with your underwear, his body bows immediately to taste, but you stop him, pulling him back up to cover you. 
He reaches between you to pull himself out, aching and thick and stiff in the calloused palm of his hand and since that is the sensation that he is used to, he groans loudly when he finds the dip of your entrance and fills you with a smooth, slick stroke. 
You hastily shove the loose band of this jeans down further, needing to feel every inch of skin he’ll afford you and when his hips are a neat, flush fit against your own just like his mouth was earlier, you rock up to encourage him to move. 
“You okay?” he asks, knowing just how much he is to take and you nod, your teeth biting into your plush lower lip. 
“Yea, just – just move.” You raise your head off the pillow to kiss him, and when he dips his own to reach your mouth, he slides even deeper, his body relaxing on top of yours. The action steals the breath from your lungs, a soft sound catching in the back of your throat and he pulls his hips back just enough to feel the friction of you before sliding home again. Again, again. 
Your thighs hitch higher around his waist, your hands slipping under his thick flannel, splaying over his muscles flexing under your hold. His hand curls around the crown of your head, keeping you in place as he feels you shift up the mattress underneath him with every thrust and between the skill of his mouth and his hips, you can’t think of anything but him. 
You wish you could feel him wholly: feel his firm, bare body against yours, feel the sparse hair that covers his thighs and trails low over his belly, feel sweat collect where your body is joined as he moves above you - but you’ll take what you can get, in this room in the middle of nowhere, in this bed you were forced to share. 
“I knew you would feel this good,” he says lowly, his eyes closing with a frown. “I knew it.”
He’s been thinking about it for ages, waking up hard night after night, finding relief in his hand when he gets a moment alone and now that he has you, he can’t stop himself from going harder, deeper. The damp heat of your mouth rests just under his jaw, your gasps reaching his ears like the sweetest sound he’s ever heard and it makes him swell even more inside you; a bright flare of heat gathering at the base of his spine.  
You hook your ankles higher on his back, your hands bracing themselves on the mattress to help you force the angle just right and his hips are a rhythmic pound against the inside of your thighs, his jaw clenching with effort. He switches into a grind the wetter you get, his hand coming up to cup your chin and force your mouth to meet his, and your fingers dig into the meat of his forearm, holding on. 
Black skates around the edges of your vision, his scent and his sounds and his weight and strokes and thickness consuming you, and you just like in the shadowed blur of your dreams, you can’t say anything. Instead your body matches his need: your fingers gripping him in their desperate hold, your heels digging into the back of his thighs to push him deeper, your mouth memorizing his taste. 
He was never a man of words to begin with, but they have all left him now, and he chases the flutter he feels around him, stoking it until you’re all but gasping underneath him in your breathless warning. He wants to hear you say it just like you do in his dreams and as if you can read his mind, you do. 
“Joel,” you cry out, your lips brushing against his. “I’m – you feel too good, I –”
His hand drifts down to hold your hip, and he picks up his pace. 
Your fingers twist in his flannel, hanging on as he tips you right over the edge and the frozen, taut lock of your body underneath him makes him spill his own release; some inside, some along the curve of your ass when he tries to pull out. He twitches against you, his cock a wet smear along your skin and even though you can feel him try to immediately pull back, you hang on tight to him, forcing him to stay close. 
He’s breathing heavily and so are you, your eyes locked on each other. 
He doesn’t know what to say. He shouldn’t have done it, shouldn’t have encouraged it, shouldn’t have taken advantage of your sleep muddled need and just when he’s about to open his mouth, you beat him to speaking. 
A smile curls at the edge of your lips and his eyes drop to watch; he can never look away from your mouth. 
“Thank god for one bed.”
7K notes · View notes
bluesidez · 1 month
Text
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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mondaymelon · 6 months
Text
₊˚ෆ 𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇 !! | sagau xiao, childe, zhongli x gn!reader
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ˋ°•*⁀➷ cw: uhm. obsessiveness? yandere if you blink a couple times? cult themes... the usual deal with this au
⤷ [ you, the benevolent and kind overseer and creator of teyvat, has descended upon this world in mortal flesh, with a presence that is overpowering, omniscient, and so impossibly pure. ෆ yet, one day, you come into the cathedral with a gash on your arm, dripping with shimmering golden ichor that spilled from your veins. there will always be those who are too foolish to see the light you bring. ]
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— sagau!xiao noticed you immediately. it would be hard not to. since the beginning, he had always heard it.
your sound. a beautiful one, a heavenly one. a chord struck him, somewhere in his chest, and he found himself panting on the ground, clutching at the fabric of his shirt.
like a electric charge - one that leaves you startled, tentative, with the tips of your fingers still tingling from what happened moments prior. a buzz in your veins that thrums along with your heartbeat.
he didn't deserve to see you. not with what sins he had committed. but xiao was selfish. he wanted to, with his tainted body, he wanted to praise you, scrape his throat raw with his voice.
and so he did.
his face brightens as you step into the cathedral, dressed in ceremonial robes as per usual. you look ethereal, why would you not? your eyes are warm as they fixate on him, and he can feel his heart skip a beat and words die in his throat. he kneels before you orderly, readying to lift his head when something catches his attention - that is, the coppery scent of blood.
blood?
a droplet splatters onto the dustless floor. melted gold.
xiao's already stood up before he realizes it. his eyes are blown wide, his shrunken pupils sharp, like a cat's. "who. who did this to you?" those words take all the willpower in him to speak. his mind is swirling, racing, thinking up of every single possibility, vision scattered and blurry as unbridled fury teems within him.
"it's nothing. some civilians have begun rioting in the city, saying that i'm an imposter. all i did was show them a little bit of my blood and they all started singing praises, so the issue has been resolved." you shake your head with a soft smile, like this matter isn't anything to concern himself over.
it is.
he hates it. how he feels so fucking powerless, how he couldn't even stop this simple event from occurring in the first place. it's his fault. it's his and everyone else who dared not believe your words. your word is the truth. it is the undeniable laws of the world, what maps the stars and what lays the land.
he'll have time to ingrain that within everyone's minds. even if it means time away from you. but that's not the issue at the moment. he turns to search for bandages, but sees the already-healing wound slowly closing up as your skin mends together.
there's a knife at your side, coated in something that shimmers in the rays of light coming from the high, color-tainted windows.
something in his heart decides, seeing your reserved smile.
there will always be those who are too foolish to see the light you bring.
very well.
then he'll just have to eradicate every last one of them. ₊˚ෆ
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— sagau!childe had, to be honest, never cared all that much. why would he, to the person who had abandoned him into the cold, dark, abyss? yet, the smile on your face. it's bright. so bright it burns him. was there a day where he could smile like that?
no, no. he couldn't. that's an expression only reserved for someone as beautiful as you. as pure as you, like a blank, unblemished canvas, with the world as its paint. it's a level of resplendency that no one on this cursed universe could ever hope to accomplish.
a god in flesh, living in a tainted world. a walking contradiction that he had grown to call the thing that allowed him to keep living. something that spurred irony, you who broke all forms of the logic he had made to keep himself sane. perhaps that was why the heart he'd locked away has suddenly begun aching again? is that why he feels so warm from your divine prescence?
"childe?" you call out his name into the vast, empty hallways, glancing around for the familiar sight of a tuft of ginger hair. he hears you at once, rushing to your side with a grin on his face.
"your grace??" he bows at the sight of you, unable -to contain his excitement as he quivers in place, the smile on his lips tugging upwards even more than its current extent. "yes, what's-"
he stops abruptly, his voice faltering as he catches the scent of something iron. one familiar on the battlefield, a liquid that'd paint the surroundings a beautiful red.
his heart pounds. the thrill of a battle? no, that can't be it. if that was the case, how come it felt like he was slowly suffocating on his unspoken words?
that's when he catches the sight of the poorly wrapped bandages encasing your forearms. and the shimmering ichor that's soaked through the hastily wrapped cloth.
he moves to grab your arm, but curses himself out as he quickly changes direction and tightly holds your wrist, his expression more pained than yours, despite you being the one suffering with the injury. "what... your grace, what is this?"
he hates your knowing smile. he hates it. (oh, but does he? could he hate anything that is of you?) it just reminds him how you're all too far for him to reach, a purity that he does nothing to maintain. "there was a riot in the city against the church. luckily, they all quieted down after i gave them a glimpse of..." you trail off, ending your incomplete sentence with a sheepish smile. the rest is self-explanatory, anyway.
his vision trembles as his pupils shake. "haha, you...?" fuck. fuck fuck fuck, just whose idea was it to allow you near a knife? how did you get your hands on that?? which stupid fucking bumbling idiot allowed for this to happen?
it's his fault. he should've been by your side. curse the fatui, curse them all, how could they possibly dare keep him away from your holy being? the guilt that churns within him, is that why he remains mute as you step away, gracefully walking to meet with the other retainers?
there will always be those who are too foolish to see the light you bring.
no, it's fine.
it will all be fine.
cutting off their tongues won't be enough. cutting them up until they're a dismembered, bloody mess isn't even close to what you've suffered for the sake of humanity.
yes, he'll make them realize that. they'll pay with their blood a thousand times over. ₊˚ෆ
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— sagau!zhongli had his breath taken away by you before he even saw you, before the two of you had even exchanged words. your presence - it was so simply alluring, a saccharide charm that just drew him closer and closer.
sweet. yes, it was a familiar flavor upon the tongue that had long since tasted the many marvels the world had to offer. like a warm cup of tea, made from the sugary extract of flowers, how the sensation of it seemed to bloom upon your mouth.
ah, how should he put this. perhaps you had procured the blossom in his heart instead? stems, leaves, buds, a floret that'd only appear when you were in his gaze. a steady thrum that ran throughout his body with every stolen glimpse he took from your attention expertly.
perhaps, was this what he felt all those years ago?
did it matter? his soul was resolute, now, and it glowed gold, just like the blessed blood that flowed through every vein and lay in every vessel within that beautiful, beautiful you.
yes, ichor... just like the splatter of it on the ground...? a pang of fear strikes him - has something happened to you while he was away? he should've none better than to trust those good-for-nothing other cultists, who spend all their time babbling about your gloriousness yet turn a blind eye to whenever you require assistance!
no, he had to calm himself down. this wasn't the moment where he should grow frustrated. first, he must confirm the situation... he's planned this out to the every plan b, c, d, e, and so on, so how come he's still feeling so anxious?
there you are, upon your throne, busy conversing with a fellow archon, the one as free as the wind. funnily enough, you were the one that tied him down like a shackle.
"ah, zhongli. are you alright? you're breathing quite hard." you tilt your head, averting your gaze from venti's sparkling eyes and instead fixing them on the usually stoic man's jumbled expression. his shoulder's heave as he resists the urge to collapse at your feet.
"what... what are you... you're hurt?" stained bandages peek out from just below your silk sleeve, a sight that cannot possibly be missed from his attentive gilded eyes. "why didn't you tell me? i-i'll call one of the healers so they can-"
"zhongli, there's no need for that." with a hand, you gently signal venti to leave the scene, which he does, with obvious reluctance. a silence gesture that resonates with appreciation deeply within him. "this was of my own accord."
"your own accord?"
"unbelievers decided to throw a riot, and there wasn't much i could do except...well, don't they say that seeing is believing?" how come you don't look the slightest bit pain? where is your self-pity? your frustration? "anyhow, i'm not in a good state. please leave me for the time being, i don't plan on receiving any more audiences tonight."
he bows hastily, yet each movement is still finely crafted with minuscule adjustments that have taken him thousands of tries to master. he does as you say, and his strides are quick and long. it won't take a genius to see that his facade has crumpled, with the clear agitation that's spreading across his features like a wildfire that devours all in its path.
there will always be those who are too foolish to see the light you bring.
he'll change that. every thrum of the golden markings running up and down his body seem to pulse in unison with his heartbeat, which is raring like he's recently returned from the battlefield.
who would've thought he'd so quickly return.
this time, of his own will. he'd be sure that these fools of this world would learn the truth of your paragon. ₊˚ෆ
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(a/n) please save me the delulu has returned and iTS NOT LETTING GO
໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123
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semiweirdshipper · 1 month
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Slashers as fathers with a (teenage) reader.
Notes: 100% NON-ROMANTIC. Platonic love only. Non-binary reader. The reader is a young teenager (you decide the age). Freddy is alive and NOT a pedophile.
Summary: The slasher fathers feeling guilty after hurting their child's feelings. PART TWO. Hurt/comfort addition.
Folks who wanted to be tagged. @hope4rain19, @minaxcarter, @brooke-stinson, @urminebutidontwantyou, @gaipplrhot, @gyarukitti, @raphydude, @thelxapeia, @ant1d3pre55ant5add1ct, @decentsoupperson, @kawaistrawberry21.
Freddy Krueger
Freddy sighed as he stomped to your room in search of his laptop. You had been in such a rush this morning to get to school that you had accidentally left it in there. And while he always respected your wishes for him to never enter your room, he really needed his laptop. Sacrifices need be made some times.
However, as Freddy wandered into your room, he was met with a sight that literally stole his breath. Your bed was completely littered with folders and painted canvas boards. There was a large portfolio bag laying on the ground with its contents scattered everywhere. Painting and drawing utensils alike sat scattered over a table with a still wet painting taped atop.
Eyes ridiculously wide, Freddy looked around and deeply observed the area. He didn't know you owned any of this stuff. Paintings, oil canvases, drawings and sketches, and all of them were yours. And each piece looked really, really good. Freddy couldn't believe what was happening right now.
He thought you gave up on art.
Delicately picking up multiple art pieces, a happiness and sense of pride rushed through Freddy's heart, and he found himself grinning big in a mixture of relief and utter joy. You still loved art, and you were so good at it. He hadn't destroyed your passion after all. That being said though... Why would you hide this from him?
Later that day when you came home, Freddy asked you to go to the kitchen. When you went inside, you froze right on the spot. There, scattered all across the kitchen table, were multiple art projects of yours.
"Dad..." You choked, your heart racing in fear, your words stolen from you, "I..."
"I needed my laptop and uh... Accidentally found these," Freddy explained, a happy smile covering his face as he went to grab your shoulders, "Sweetie, why would you hide this from-"
"I told you not to go in there." You almost shouted, tears blurring your eyes as you pulled away from him.
"Sweetie," Freddy took a step back, hurt by your defensive attitude.
You went to the table and quickly began to gather up your art work. Freddy chased after you to try and get you to stop, "No, stop it. Don't do that- just-just wait a sec, I-"
"I get it, dad, you hate it. You've always hated my art. You-just... J-just leave me alone. Don't touch it, ok," You avoided eye contact while scurrying to protect your work, "I'll put it away."
"No, that's not what I want. (y/n). (y/n), will you please look at me. Hey," Freddy placed a hand on your shoulder and kept you from stomping off, "(y/n), look at me."
With a tense body and watery eyes, you looked at him, art work clutched to your chest and a glare covering your face.
Freddy sighed and said in earnest, "That's not what I want. Your art, I love it. I think it's beautiful an-and amazing! I-I mean, all this time? Really? I thought you gave up on it, I... I thought that I..."
Relaxing, you lowered your arms and looked him straight in the eyes. It felt like your heart had just done a summersault in your chest. "You... You mean it? You... You really like my art?"
"I love it!" Freddy exclaimed almost too quickly, "I love it so much, you have no idea. You have no idea how happy this makes me, (y/n). I thought that I ruined art for you. I... I never stopped feeling guilty about what I did. And I always hoped that one day you would start again, but..."
"Dad," You bit your lip hard in an attempt not to cry. He cared. He actually cared, and he loved your art. He was happy for you.
"Here," Freddy went to grab an old folder off the table.
Suspicious, you set down your art and went to take the folder. When you opened it, you saw dozens of old, un-crumpled papers with very distinct, familiar drawings on them. It took a minute, but you soon realized that these were the very drawings you had thrown away when you were little.
"You... Kept them?" You gaped at your dad, your heart aching in a happy/sad way.
"Of course I did," Freddy's smile wobbled a bit, "I love you and I love everything you do, and I'm so, so sorry for making you feel bad, f-for making you feel like you had to hide this from me."
Lowering the folder, you felt your lips wobble as your heart clenched in great happiness and relief. All this time you believed your dad hated your passion. He had hurt you so badly, but he regretted it. He had always regretted it, and he loved your work.
In a desperate attempt to hide your tears, you rush up to your dad and give him a big hug. Freddy held you as tightly as he could, his arms fierce and protective as he said, "Don't ever give up on your art, (y/n). No matter what, please. I love you so much."
Michael Myers
Michael had wandered out of the garage a few minutes after your friend's dad dropped you off. "Me and (friend's name) are gonna grab a snack real quick, k dad?" You had hollered while rushing into the house.
Rolling his eyes a bit, Michael approached the other man who casually got out of the car. He was grinning big at you and his own kid, seemingly proud and full of joy. "My god, man," He said mindlessly, smiling at Michael, "I tell ya, that was one hell of a game today. Whoo, and (y/n)? My god, they were great."
Puzzled and confused, Michael could only tilt his head in wonder. Game? What game?
The man shook his head and gave Michael an even more puzzled look than he himself sported, "Hey, how come I never see you at any of their games? Rough job or something?"
Michael's silence and confused expression urged the man to explain more.
"You know, the (sport) game? Just had one today- what a show I tell ya. But, I just- I never see you there, you know?"
At that, Michael's eyes went unspeakably wide. (sport)? You were playing (sport)? What? For how long? Why didn't he know about this? He thought you quit playing that when you were little. What was going on?
A week later and Michael was sitting amongst the crowd that was watching your (sport) game. You didn't know he was there. You didn't even know that he knew all your secrets like the fact that you had been playing (sport) for years, how you had won two trophies, the fact that this is where you spent most of your time at, and so on and so forth.
While watching the game, Michael couldn't help but to feel a deep sense of pride, relief and great joy at seeing how passionately you played and how much fun you were having. And you were so talented at it. The other team didn't stand a chance. You had grown so much since you were little. To this day his own actions still haunted him.
He hurt you. He 'scarred' you. And, although you continued doing what you loved, you had still felt the need to hide it from him, for years. He did that. He had made you feel so anxious and insecure that you felt the need to hide your greatest passion from him.
What kind of father does that to their child?
Unsurprisingly, your team won the game, and Michael couldn't be more proud or excited. Once the crowd and commotion calmed down, he patiently waited on you to exit the changing rooms. The way you hid yourself...
Michael gazed around at all the happy families congratulating and/or comforting their kids. It crushed his heart thinking about the sheer loneliness you expressed after the game ended and you had no one to celebrate with aside from your team mates.
When you came out of the changing room, Michael straightened his posture and faced you. It took you a minute, but eventually you looked up, saw him, and froze. A gasp escaped your mouth while your backpack fell from your shoulder to your shaken hand.
Michael's chest ached at the sight of your frightened, horrified face as you frantically looked around as if for an escape. Quickly he approached you and said in sign language, "That was a good game."
"Dad," You stepped away from him, panicked, "I-it's not what you think-I... I-I was just-I'm..."
You were scared, Michael realized, guilt beating on him like a hundred hammers. He waved his hand at you to get your attention, "Why didn't you tell me you were playing (sport)?"
"I..." You stare at him in great panic that melted into sadness and fear. You dropped your backpack and covered your face, saying brokenly, "I'm sorry, dad. I... I didn't mean to. Don't be mad, please, I-I... I'll stop playing it."
What? Micheal rushed to you and went to gently pull your hands away from your flushed face. What had he done? "No, I'm not mad. Please stop panicking. I'm not mad. Not at all."
Confused, you look at him through tear colored vision.
"I just found out you were playing (sport). You even have trophies. (y/n), why did you keep this from me?"
"Because," You winced, "You said I wasn't good at it. You... You hate me for it. I... I just wanted to be happy. I... I didn't mean to..."
He couldn't believe how upset you were, and all because he found out that you were doing what you loved. Marching up to you, Michael pulled you into a big hug that lasted for several minutes. When he noticed you calm down, he moved back a bit and explained.
"I was an idiot back then. I never should have said those things to you, (y/n). I've always felt bad for how I made you feel. You're not bad at (sport) and I never wanted you to stop playing. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I made you feel this way."
You were shocked speechless, so Michael pulled you into another hug. You hugged back, relieved. He wasn't mad at you. He apologized. Everything was going to be alright.
Bo Sinclair
Bo lived in a very, very small town. Everyone knew each other and every piece of information that existed on the surface. Rumors spread and gossip filled the air like pollen. So it didn't take very long for Bo to learn that you had been practicing engineering with the car shop just down the road.
At first Bo had been ecstatic. You were still interested in engineering? He thought you didn't want to do that anymore; you said so yourself. Ever since the incident when you were little, you hadn't helped him with anything physically constructive- not even stuff as simple as hanging a picture on the wall.
Pretty much everyone praised you and said that you were doing a tremendous job. Your skill towards fixing vehicles was a natural, golden talent. You were an impressive, fast learner and everyone loved and appreciated you.
But when Bo tried to approach you about this exciting news, he was confused to hear you deny all of it. You shut his exclamations off and said that the towns people were lying. You claimed to have nothing to do with engineering. Yes, you hung around the car shop, but nothing was going on, you were just bored.
Bo didn't understand it. Why would you lie to him about this? He knew that the towns people weren't making this up- just ask the guy who took a picture of you and your buddies covered in grease while working on a truck engine. You looked so happy. Why was that something to lie about?
For the life of him, Bo could not figure out what was going on with you. Obviously you were lying to him, but he couldn't get you to explain why. It was as if you were completely and utterly avoiding him now, and it was driving him crazy.
So Bo reached out for help.
"Well," Your engineering teacher said in a tense tone, "I talked to em an' they said it's 'cause they don't wanna make ya mad."
"Huh?" Bo shook his head in exaggeration. What did that even mean?
Your teacher gave him a wearisome look, "I think they're afraid you're gonna blow a gasket on em if they do somethin' wrong. I take it that... you got a short temp?"
At that question, Bo was immediately rushed with memories of the past, and he found himself feeling overwhelmed with guilt and dread. That time he got mad at you when you were little, you didn't just give up on engineering. You gave up on everything that had to do with him. Was this why? Because you were afraid that he would get mad at you if you messed up or made a mistake?
You were afraid of his temper.
Coming to realization, Bo spent quite a while trying to figure out how he should approach you. He wasn't the best at emotions or having deep conversations. If he tried to explain himself he feared he would just say something stupid and cause you to be more upset with him.
So he waited for the perfect moment.
A couple weeks later, Bo dragged you to his shop to show you something that caused your mouth to fall open in awe. "Ram 3500, 2018. An' look at'er license plate."
Gasping the name of the state the enormous truck was from, you faced your dad with absolute excitement and disbelief, "Why's it here?"
"Ah, a little transmission trouble on the road," Bo smiled and slung an arm around your shoulder, "Nice huh? She's a beauty. Needs lotta' work, fast, an' I want 'you' to help me."
"What?" Your behavior changed drastically, "Dad-"
"Look, I've already heard all the gossip. I've seen ya work at the shop. I know you know what you're doin', (y/n)," Bo went to stand in front of you. "But what I don't understand is why ya don't wanna work with me."
"It's not... I just..." You sighed and looked at the ground, lost on what to say. A pain filled your chest as you admitted quietly, "I ain't perfect, dad, I... I make mistakes."
"And?" Bo pushed for a better answer.
His impatience and lack of understanding made you snap, "An' you can't handle that. Every time I mess up even the tiniest bit, you get mad at me. What do you expect me to do, huh? I'm only (age)."
Going silent, Bo relaxed upon learning what exactly your insecurity was. You were avoiding him because you were afraid of him getting mad at you for making mistakes. He did this. He put this fear in you, made you this way. And because of that, you were both teetering on the edge of complete life separation.
"(y/n)," Bo reached out and put a hand on your shoulder, "I'm sorry."
Your entire body froze.
"I... never meant to make ya feel this way. I know ya ain't perfect. You're still learnin' an' you've got a long ways to go, but... I wanna be there for you, (y/n). I wanna help you. I wanna watch ya grow, an' I can't do that if ya ain't around... I'm better than I used to be. So if you mess up, I ain't gettin' mad. I'm helping you, because that's what fathers do."
Shot by your dad's moving words, you find yourself staring at him for a long moment before a large smile bloomed across your face. "Right dad," You say, "Let's take a look at her."
With his heart skipping over the moon, Bo grinned and thanked the very stars themselves for this moment, and he lead you to your first shared project since you were a mere, little kid.
Hannibal Lecter
One night Hannibal got bored and lonely and decided to go to Will's house which was where you liked to spend lots of time at. He didn't mind you staying with Will, but some times he himself felt a little bit left out.
When he arrived at Will's house, he quietly made way up the stairs of the porch and temporarily paused just outside of the window. Casually peeking in, Hannibal spotted Will sitting at the dining table reading a newspaper while you stood in front of the stove in the kitchen. Your sleeves were clumsily rolled up and you had a apron on.
The motions of your arms and the state of the kitchen did not lie. You were cooking. You were quite literally cooking food right in front of him. Hannibal couldn't help but to release a small shudder of mixed emotions. It had been years since he last saw you cook- years since he demolished your feelings and forced you away from the passion you both once shared.
To see you cooking now? It made Hannibal erupt with questions and emotions. How long had this been going on? What were you cooking? Why were you cooking? How come he didn't know? Were you happy? Was this why you always spent so much time with Will?
Speaking oh whom, Hannibal watched as you handed out a spoon to which Will stood up to receive. Taking a taste of the spoon, Will made a bright face and reached out for a container of spice. You smiled, laughed and nodded, happily going to add some of the recommended spice to your dish.
Grinning, Hannibal couldn't help but to feel great pride. So, you could handle personal opinions and constructive criticism? What an astounding chef you turned out to be, and you looked so happy too.
Regaining his composure, Hannibal straightened his hair and went to knock on the door.
It took over five minutes for Will to answer.
By that time, things had grown to be rather chaotic. Now only did Will claim that you had gone to bed, but that he also was the one responsible for the late night meal.
Hannibal knew better though.
Whilst you pretended to sleep in the guest bedroom, Will and Hannibal stood in the kitchen gazing around at all your hard work.
"They told me what happened when they were little," Will said, a disappointed look on his face, "How could you say that to them, doc?"
Hannibal stared down at your unfinished dish, his heart clenching in memory of the past. "I spoke out of impulse. I didn't mean to cause them this much insecurity." To think you would go out of your way to lie to him. "How long has this affair been going on?"
"I don't know. Few years?" Will shrugged, "I was cooking macaroni one day, they asked to help and... The ship set sail, I guess."
"You reignited their flame," Hannibal huffed and smiled, "I'm grateful."
"Ever thought about apologizing?" Will asked.
"I have," Hannibal said softly, "However, they refuse to have anything to do with cooking."
"You told them that they were a horrible cook and a waste of time in the kitchen. What did you expect would happen?"
Hannibal bowed his head in shame. He hurt you, more than he had ever imagined. After all these years he believed that you had moved on and found different passions, but instead you clung to cooking and desperately sought hiding it from him because of fear. What kind of father was he to do that to you?
The next morning after the drive home, Hannibal kept you in the car to say, "(y/n). I know it was you who cooked at Wills the other night. I saw."
Having been dreading this exact conversation, you flushed darkly and turned your head away in great shame, sadness and fear. "I'm sorry."
"Please do not apologize," Hannibal cursed at himself for how anxious he made you feel, "I am more grateful than you could ever know."
That stirred a confused reaction from you.
"(y/n), you do not have to accept my apology, but I want you to promise me that you will continue to do what you enjoy, especially if it is cooking." Hannibal looked to you hopefully. "Seeing how happy you were... You have no idea how much joy it brought me. I thought I had destroyed your passion, but..."
Now completely facing your dad, your mouth was agape and your heart pounding furiously with emotions.
"I've always regretted what I said to you that day. It was rude and improper, and most certainly untrue. You are an astounding cook and I'm proud of you. I'm sorry that I hurt you, but, even if you do not wish to forgive me, I hope that you will always continue to do what you love."
Looking at your dad with watery eyes, you blinked and fought for the right words to respond with. All these years you had been terrified of your dad's wrath and disapproval when it came to cooking. He was right, he did hurt you, and the pain was still lingering inside you.
Even though what he said now brought you some form of relief and comfort, you couldn't help but to still feel a little bit of lingering hurt. "I... I need time." You reply quietly.
Hannibal nodded in understanding, "And time you shall have. I will always be here to support you."
-
If I made a part three, it could be about the reader still suffering some anxiety while doing their passion around their dad. And the slasher dads' will be nothing but happy, supportive and proud. You know, just casual comfort and fluff.
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pursuitseternal · 6 months
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“Bites in the Night:” a series of Astarion x Reader drabbles from the days on the road…
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Part 1: “Go back to sleep, darling…”
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Astarion x Fem!Reader | M | 1.4K of Romance
Summary: you’ve been fed on before, but you cannot deny how much you are the one who now hungers for it…
CW: consensual biting, blood kink, flirtation, a bit… angsty? First kiss
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No more bites in the night, he had promised. True to his word, Astarion always waited for your invitation now. Just a little offer thrown his way with increasing frequency. You can feed on me tonight.
You can’t help it, how addicting it is, waking with just that little ache in your body, watching the way he smiles at you, knowingly, as you sit and eat whatever breakfast your other companions had thrown together. It makes a pool of heat settle in your belly, as if you are the one now full to bursting and yet not sated. As if you are the one cursed with eternal hunger.
He always fights so beautifully those days after he drinks of your blood, almost dancing as he pounces and stalks and rips out throats like the true predator he is. You can almost feel it after, however, the expenditure of the limited power you grant him each time he feeds.
Soon, those ashen pools would settle beneath his eyes again, his movements slowing the longer into the day you journey.
The same happens today, that lethargy visible as the sun begins to set. So tonight, as you make camp, you find a reason to hesitate by Astarion’s tent. He is busy setting up the colored canvas of his structure. You see his hands are shaking as he bends down to tie and fasten the tether to the stake in the ground.
“I’m… gathering firewood,” you stop shy of his crouching body.
His head snaps as he looks up at you, brows furrowed in confusion. “And?” he snips. Perhaps the efforts he expended today took a greater toll on him that the grey in his skin even tells you. He sneers, clearly exasperated and annoyed. “I’m busy if you’re asking for my commonly-sought-for and usually riveting company.”
“No,” you force a easy laugh. “No I’m capable on my own, thank you.”
That earns another, deeper furrow of his brows, his fist clutching around the handle of his hammer now. “Then what do you want?” he purrs.
“You… didn’t happen to notice if there was anything that looked promising on the way here?”
Standing slowly, his face quirks into that familiar smirk, those brows now canting as he looks down at you. Crimson eyes flicker over your face, finally resting on the lingering marks of his fangs from last night. “Oh, I never stray my gaze far from the most promising things, but as for firewood? No.” He cocks his head, eyes heavy lidded as he scans your whole form now. “No, I was perhaps too… distracted to search my surroundings for something so mundane.”
You shrug. “Nevermind then,” you toss casually, ignoring the way your heart is rapping against your ribs.
“I… don’t think you wish me to nevermind,” he comments with equal indifference. Even as he slides one step into your path. “What did you really wish to say, darling?”
The words bubble from your throat before you can make them seem dispassionate. “You can feed on me tonight.”
His smirk tweaks just a hint higher. “I was hoping you would offer, darling…” He leans back, as if he is out of your way. “See you tonight, even if you won’t see me, my sweet.” You push past him, your hand accidentally brushing past his own arm, the chill of his body sending a little shiver through your frame. “Good luck,” he purrs as you enter into the brush and trees at the edge of camp.
Your evening passes with little event. Your pulse never slows, even as you lay in your bedroll, the soft crackle of fire unsuccessful at lulling you into any sleep deeper than a soft breathing with sweat-covered thoughts that grip your mind and body. Not dreams. No, you lay on your side in semi-consciousness, facing towards the dying embers of the fire. That’s how you hear the almost imperceptible tread of a foot in the dirt.
It’s slight, just a soft rustle and a gentle scuttle in the dirt beside you. But then you feel his breath, cold on your neck. Easily mistaken for a night breeze, except you have waited to feel it all night.
For a man who drips with sex, his very voice meant to make you tremble with need, he does not creep too close. His hand rests on your shoulder with uncertainty. The other gently sweeps back the stray strands of your hair from your neck.
His touch is reserved, hesitant, only brushing your body where necessary. Beneath that shell of seduction, you feel the self-doubt, the nerves worn to a shred from 200 years of abuse. And for as much as you long to turn and wrap your arms around him and his suffering soul, you fight the urge. You shut your eyes tighter, counting the second of your every inhale and exhale to make them sound sleepy.
Then comes his bite. That delicious puncture of your skin that hurts for a second, quickly tenderly cared for with soft laps of his tongue as he drinks from you. You try not to twitch, try not to lean your body against him as he crouches. He must think himself so stealthy, and you wouldn’t want to take that from your rogue.
All too soon he withdraws, but you feel the mass of his body lingering. You can almost hear his head twist as he observes you. “Go back to sleep, darling,” he whispers. “I hope it was as good for you as it was for me…”
“How…?” you begin, shifting in your bed to look up at him. His hair luminous in the starlight, his skin as pale as the moon.
That smirk only widens, a trickle of your blood runs from the elevated corner of his lips. “Please,” he gives a little chuckle, bending down to whisper right into the curves of your ear, “two-hundred years, and I know the dance of a sleeping heart… and the beat of one who just can’t get enough of me being so near them.”
You turn your head, looking right into those crimson eyes, now glowing a bit with his renewed strength.
“Next time you wish to do this again awake, you have but to ask, darling…” his lips purse as he finishes his words. But you notice that ripple of hesitation again. “I’m eager for any and all your suggestions, my dear.”
Now you hesitate, your eyes flicker between the way his long, dexterous fingers rest on his bent knee to the way his lips still are stained with your blood. You breathe, “Will you…” You swallow, unable to get the last words from your dry throat.
“Yes?” he encourages you, his voice barely more than a rasp.
“Will you… kiss me?” You feel your stomach drop in horror at your boldness.
But your daring earns you a smile that flashes his brilliant white teeth at you. “I thought you would never ask, darling…” he purrs, lowering his mouth once more. It is quick, well, quicker than you would like. His lips press softly on yours, the coppery taste of your blood touching your tongue. He begins to withdraw, but you aren’t done, your heart races again. Your hand flies into his silver hair, holding gently at the base of his neck, trying to hang on for one more moment. You feel his muscles soften, relaxing as he feels your want. That you invite him closer. His own hand moves similarly, tenderly lifting your chin, his lips beginning to move almost imperceptibly between yours.
You taste yourself more on his mouth, the slow languorous way he works into yours, sharing that flavor bit by bit.
Until he pulls back. You let him. Careful not to push, or tug him. Not to break his trust, for as much as he begs you for yours.
“So much for no more bites in the night,” he laughs quietly. “I… do like that, you know. It is ever so much more fun when you are awake.”
You say nothing. No coherent words can form on your tongue or in your mind. So instead you nod, you smile, your hand trying to grab the twisted blanket to fit back around you.
But his pale hands reach for it first. “Go back to sleep, darling,” he repeats, quieter than before as he pulls the woolen wrap to cover your body.
You feel sleep tugging you under at last, the soft throb of your neck almost as sweet as the ghost of his kiss on your lips.
And as you close your eyes, you breathe, almost feeling that powerful, glowing gaze watching you from his tent. Watching over you until the light of dawn.
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My other Astarion x Reader fics:
“The Rogue You Were:” part 1–Welcome me (NSFW)
“The Rogue You Were:” part 2-Cleanse me (NSFW)
“Just A Drop:” drabble as he turns Tav
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theblueflower05 · 8 months
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Heavy In Your Arms
A/N: We didn't get enough time at High Camp. I swear, it was the perfect setting for hurt/comfort. Forever upset about it.
Word Count: 5.5K
Warnings: Explicit smut. Aged Up characters. Talks of PTSD and war. Injuries. Blood. Angst. Cursing. Oral Sex(male receiving). Riding. Service Top Neteyam. Reader with a praise kink.
Summary: You and Neteyam find moments of peace during the war. Neteyam x Fem! Omaticaya Reader
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I was a heavy heart to carry,
My beloved was weighted down.
My arms around his neck,
My fingers laced a crown- Florence & The Machine
Life can change in an instant.
One moment, things are as they have always been. Your existence a well loved pattern, easy and comfortable in the Forests of Pandora.
You had been born after the Long War, after the evil Tawtute had been sent back to their dying planet. You had only ever known peace and kind humans like the scientist that lived in the rickety out post. You’d only ever known the rich and abundant rule of Toruk Makto, Jake led your people to victory and prosperity. The Omatikayan Village had been a beautiful one to grow up in, colorful and cheerful and thriving despite all that it had endured.
Your days had been filled with community and childlike wonder.
That had all changed when the Sky People returned. When they set fire to the Forests just to watch the Great Mother bleed.
Your naivety had been stolen, snatched away by uncontrollable circumstances.
By war.
High Camp is nestled deep within the Ayram Alusing hidden in a twisting impenetrable cave system.
It is bustling and busy and just bit cramped.
The Omatikaya are a resilient people and even through forceful uprooting had managed to make due of the space given. The Stronghold is littered with Canvas tents and woven mats. Small burning fires, and a larger one for the communal meals that are so desperately needed after long days battle.
You spend most of your time in the main healers keklu, working tirelessly with Mo’at and the other medicine leaders. You’d never been much of a healer, always more of a story teller. You’d get lost in the tales of old, in the songs of the ancient ones, but since the invasion, most had honed their medical craft.
It was all hands on deck, wherever you could be helpful you would be.
It’s good. Keeping your hands full is a good thing. It helps to distract your restless mind.
The War Party had left early in the morning- the sun still hiding behind the shadow of the eclipse, and had still not returned yet. You fear that it might be one of those missions, the kind that lasts days and leaves the village in shambles as they wait for the return of the warriors.
You’re grinding Ti’ku’klu seeds into a fine paste, your arm tired as you stare wordlessly into nothing.
The healers tent is quiet, filled with only low chatter and the crackling of the fire, the boiling of the pot that contains a potent medicine. One that needs to be kept hot and steaming. You cant seem to be present, to keep up with conversation when your mind is so far away- soaring over the forest. Focused on the unseen battle
This would be a dangerous one, you’d heard the whispers of the people. The humans were growing sick of the raids. They had heavy precautions laid out- would kill any Na’vi on sight. You trusted your Olo’eyktan whole heartedly, truly, you did.
But the thought of having to lay any more of your brothers and sisters to rest made bile raise in your throat like acid. There had been so much death, so much loss.
You sneak a peek at the woman next to you as she works in sorting bandages.
Zephya is only a few years older than you- and yet the light seems to be gone from her eyes. Dimmed down to something small and wilting. You’d never forget the piercing sound of her cries, echoing off the rock cave walls as her munxatan’s (husbands) body was brought back from the last raid.
Another round of nauseating anxiousness churns in your stomach.
You dont know if you could survive it…
Would you be forced to? Would this war force you to watch the ones you loved die?
The thought of losing your own lover is enough to send you free falling. Spiraling into your own mind.
“That is quite enough” Mo’at tuts her tongue in your direction and you stare at her with a wide, almost guilty expression. Had the Tsahik heard your thoughts? Sometimes you didnt doubt the elderly woman could, with all of her boundless knowledge and those all knowing amber eyes “You will destroy the paste, it is not meant to be so thin”
“Oh” you feel like dunce as you look down at the mortar and pestle in your hand “I apologize, I just wanted to make sure it was well mixed”
“Hmm” she doesn't call your bluff “Why dont you take a break. Go find more herbs, the fresh air wll clear your head. You’re no used to me here with thoughts so loud”
Her words are casual but her gaze is knowing and warm and you nod eagerly “Of course, Tsahik”
You’re happy for the break and the opportunity to stretch your legs, you stand quickly and exit the incense heavy area.
Everyone has gotten good at pretending.
At pretending they’re not terrified, at trying to go on with any semblance of normalcy. The scientists still gather near their trailers, facemasks on and typing away at holo tablets. The karyus’ still teach the younglings, their little giggles can be heard in the distance. You smile, a very practiced mask, at any you pass. Are pleasant. Friendly. Not betraying the inner turmoil you feel-
You’re jostled out of the heavy thoughts.
Nearly rushed straight on your ass, more like it.
“Oof-” the wind is knocked out of you as a small but solid weight collides with your side. You look down and find big golden eyes string up at you- golden eyes so familiar.
“Y/N! Hi!” Tuktirey is the youngest Sully, and probably the one you’ve always been the cloestst to. Back home, years ago, she’d become a bit enamored with you. More specifically, you’re weaving and jewelry crafting skills. Many teased that she was your shadow. “Look, look’it what I made”
You cant help but grin. Her joyful energy is contagious and you’re glad for the distraction. You take the necklace she shoves into your face delicately. Run your fingers over the rows of mis matched beads. She really is quite good.
“Very pretty, Tuk. You’re getting so good! Soon you;ll take my place- the whole clan will be trampling over themselves to wear one of your pieces” You’re words make her blush, make the smile on her face go a bit shy and bashful.
She looks so much like her brother it hurts.
“I did that thing you showed me! You’re right- sometimes the bigger beads need the little ones to anchor them”
Tuk is rarely quiet, always a babbling brook but even she isnt immune to the tense atmosphere that looms, to the toretoure that is waiting for the warriors to return. She talks about the necklace, but her tail flicks nervously behind her. At her side, a carved wooden Toruk toy hangs in her loose grip.
You figure, maybe you can distract her too.
You reach for the toy and she holds tight to it before sighing. You’re probably going to take it, she thinks. Tell her to stop being annoying. Chastise her the way that others had when she’d tried to get them to play with her. All day long, everyone had turned their heads or sighed in annoyance when she’d approached-
You raise the wooden Toruk above her head- and let out an undignified squawk. Your best impression of the mighty beast. It’s dismal, but it seems to satisfy the little girl who instantly breaks out into giggles.
“You better run, Tuk Tuk” you grown payfully, sending the toy into a nosedive “Before I eat you whole”
She shrieks and sets out running in the opposite direction and take after her, ignoring the stares. Should you be back in the medicine tent helping? Maybe. You’d rather play with the seven year old instead.
The two of you play for a while, until your thighs burn and your lungs hurt from laughing. You dont have the endurance of a child, she runs absolute circles around you. She’s fast and agle and quite obviously takes Neytiri’s lessons to heart, even at her young age. You can only use your size to you’re advantage, picking her writing squirming body up and spinning her round-
The horn is loud and echos through the rock walls of the cavernous case.
Both yours and Tuk’s ears swivel, perk up and stand to attention.
There it is. The calls of your people. The sounds of ikran wings flapping.
Tuk writhes in your hold, the back of her head connecting with your lip painfully as she hollers joyfully “They’re back!”
Shes off then, only sparing you a quick glance as you seem to stand there in daze, rubbing your slightly split lip lightly as your stomach does somersaults.
“Come on!” The little one hollers back at you and your feet carry you forward, seemingly of their own volition.
The crowds are building as the people make their way for the edge, where ikrans land by the dozen. Carrying the warriors on their back. Along the way, Kiri and Spider join you. Eagerly bouncing along, following an over animated Tuk.
Excitement and dread bubbles in your stomach, a horribly potent and toxic mix. It’s always like this when they return. When he returns. You’re so anxious to see him, physically there. Alive. So anxious that he might not be-
Your eyes are peeled for the familiar swirling green and blue patterns of Atanzaw, his ikran.
“Mom!” Tuk screeches, of course she spots them first.
Your eyes follow her,
Straight to him.
Neteyam.
He dismonts his ikran, alot less gracefully then his mother did. His actions sluggish and unlike him- it only takes you a moment to notice how injured he is. The bleeding wounds and bruises that litter his body arent pretty and hes limping, not putting his full weight on his right thigh. His face in smeared war paint- blacks and yellows and greens. They make him look intense, as he stangs tall and muscular and still fully dressed in his tsamsiyu(warrior)garb.
When his gaze meets yours your breath gets stuck in your throat.
Usually when he returns they’re bright. The adrenalin of the fight still cursing through his veins like wildfire- this time thats drained. His eyes are filled with barley concealed dread. Sharp with pain.
Your fingers itch and your chest aches, the invisible string that ties you to him taught. You want nothing more then to go to him-
“Sully’s, fall in” Jake’s voice is booming and stern. All Olo’eyktan. Marine. War leader. You can barley recognize him like this. So far away from the carefree doting father he’d always been.
-Its a small thing. A barely there shake of Netryam’s head but it sends a clear message. He doesn't want you to approach. When he turns away from you, giving you the necessary but cold shoulder your unsettled stomach lurches.
It’s like it plays out in slow motion, you watch the family from the edge. An outsider. Not welcome in their obviously private conversation. Even Spider, a human, get’s to be closer than you do.
You’re unwelcome.
The heated words. The way that Jake scolds his sons, you’re not supposed to be privy to it.
“Jesus, I let you two geniuses lead a fleet and you disobeyed direct orders!”
Those words hurt you, for him. You know that they must peirce right through Neteyam. He still hasnt looked back in your direction and you are sure he doesnt want you to bare witness to any of it.
You slink away, slowly falling back. Fading into the background of loved ones reuniting. Warriors returning, alive and dead. The clan welcoming them back with open arms. You wish, as you so often do, that you could welcome Neteyam the same. That you could run into his arms. Hold him the way you ache to after these difficult and dangerous missions-
You convince yourself that you are content with just knowing that he is alive, and make your way back to the healers tent where your presence is wanted.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
It gets so cold in the mountains. Frigidly so.
The wind whips through the caves, leaving a bone deep chill in their wake. You keep the fire at the center of your tent going all night long, and can normally be found crouching at it’s hearth. It’s been raining on and off all day, torrential down pour to drizzles- from the sound it seems as though it has finally stopped. Quieted down.
You wonder if the sky is clear and the stars are bright. You miss climbing high into the trees after the evening eclipse. Miss gazing at the constellations, miss basking in the Pandoran night and listening to the sound of the forests.
Mo’at had sent you home, demanding you get some sleep.
It had been three days since the soldiers had returned and they had been very busy. Full of tending to the wounded, and organizing for the dead. You’d thrown yourself headfirst into anytask that was given to you. Kept yourself busy. Useful.
You didnt have the time to mope and obsess over a man that was not yours.
That is what you told yourself at least.
This…thing that you and Neteyam shared didn't have a name or a definition. It had started out of loneliness, out of the desperation for comfort. Before the humans had come back and brought their war upon the clan, you dont think the future Olo’eyktan had ever really looked at you twice. Violence and hurt had pushed you into eachothers arms, both of you seeking companionship. Someone to weather the storm with.
It wasnt love. Not to him, you know that. He would marry a woman with high standing one day- one that could be his match. Become Tsahik.
That wouldnt be you.
For Eywa’s sake, you could barely do stitches. You messed up simple tasks like making salves. You would not delude yourself into thinking it was anything more. Many Na’vi couple without mating, pleasure isn't stigmatized in your community. That was all it was. A need for pleasure. Your body satiates him and that is all.
You cant go looking for him. Begging for his time or his touch.
So you sit by your fire, thread your necklaces, and long for the stars.
You’re humming a tune to yourself, something soft and gentle and melodic when theres a sudden shift. The canvas wall of your tent shakes and your stiffen, reaching for your knife that lies on the makeshift table next to your bed-
Neteyam slips through the flap- easy as anything. Smoothly, his motions fluid from all of those years of training.
Your eyes and mouth are wide open, ears lying low to your head.
“Hi” the man grins, boyish and handsome as ever.
As though he hadnt just broken into your home. It’s not like the two of you hadnt done this before, he’d spend many nights sneakily tucked inside your tent but he usually came through the front entrance.
“Vonva!(asshole)”you hiss at him, exasperated “You- ugh! I couldve stabbed you!”
He’s so handsome it makes you sick. He’s so tall and broad, a few of his braids falling into his face as his eyes sparkle with mirth “That would not be very nice of you, what have I done to deserve such a fate?”
“Breaking and entering is grounds for stabbing” you huff “you scared me!”
Neteyam steps forward a bit, hands out stretching to you, tone gentle “Hey, I didnt mean to scare you. I just wanted to see you is all, Im sorry”
You hate the way that you’re so easy for him. He ignores you for days, and then shows up unannounced and you’re jumping at any and all attention he may give you.
The way that as his large hands engulf the tops of your arms, you lean into his touch greedily.
“It’s fine. It's just- very late. I wasn't expecting anyone” you try to keep your tone even “I was actually about to go to bed”
“Oh?” Neteyam wonders, his tail flicking behind him “Can I join you?”
Your heart speeds up, if thats even possible. Both at his words and his tone. The insinuation right there. He had spent too much time in your bed that really, it shouldn't be a question. You'd always welcomed him into your nest of blankets, your warm arms. In between your soft thighs-
“I'm not sure that would be a good idea” you respond, stepping out of his hold.
Neteyam sags a bit, surprised. His ears swivel and his smile weans, tugging downwards at the corners of his full lips “Not a good idea? Why not?”
You shrug, not able to look directly at him. Instead focusing on his shoulders. His abdomen. He’s still all banged up, the bandaging covering his bruises are expertisley wrapped. Done by the Tsahik herself, obviously.
It’s the perfect excuse.
“You’re still hurt,” you insist ”You need to be careful, you don't want to reopen anything”
A smooth chuckle escapes him and makes a tingle run down your spine. He reaches out again, this time he grabs at your hand, leading it from its place awkwardly at your side to his chest. Pressing your palm gently against his warm skin.
“I'd like to stay with you tonight, if you’ll let me” Neteyam starts, you can feel the vibrations of his strong voice in your palm, pressed against the muscle “I may need you to be a little bit gentle with me though, paskalin”
You're quiet, lips quirked, stuck in your head for a moment as your fingers lightly trace over one of his stripes.
“Y/N, hey-” He seems to be more serious than before as he urges you to look at him “I'm not sure what’s wrong, but If you want me to go I will”
Everything in your body, your soul, protests at his words. There is no part of you that wants him to leave.
You’re being so stupid.
Neteyam could have anyone. Anyone. And he’s here, with you. So what if he doesnt love you. You have to take whatever you can get. You dont want him to find solace with anyone else, dont want him to leave and never return-
You lean in, where your hand is, on his strong chest and place a kiss to the edge of the bandaging. Its a small little thing, a barley there brush of your lips but still. When you look up at him through your lashes you know you must make quite the sight.
“Stay” you urge. “I want you to stay with me tonight,” everynight. ”Please?”
He looks unsure for just a moment, clearly thrown off by your conflicting mood, before he nods. He cups the side of your face then, forcing you to make eye contact with him. No matter how uncomfortably intense- you cant turn away.
“Can I kiss you?” His words make you quake. He hadnt asked, so explicitly, for months. Since the two of you were still fumbly and newly exploring eachothers bodies.
It makes butterflies erupt in your stomach, makes you giddiously nervous. You nod, way too hard “Mhmm”
And then he’s bending down, having to crouch because of how much taller he is, to capture your lips with his own.
Its always so good.
His mouth and the way it tastes and the way it makes you feel. Neteyam seems so sweet, everyone in the clan knows him as the Golden Boy. The perfect soldier- in privacay, in these stolen moments of intimacy, he’s anything but.
His kisses are dirty, all demanding tongue and nipping fangs. He kisses like a man whos trying to get his dick wet. Like he wants to pick you up, crush you to him. Rut into you-
And normally he would. Normally he tosses you around like nothing but a child’s ragdoll(and you let him), but he’s still hurt. Still tender and healing. When you wrap your arms around his shoulders and tug, trying to climb him like a tree, he hisses in pain,.
“Shit” you pull away from his mouth, your lips wet with his saliva “Sorry, I didnt mean to”
He just shakes his head, nuzzling at your cheek “It’s fine, I’m okay”
“Im hurting you” you argue.
“You’re not. Just- be gentle, okay?” Neteyam urges, trying to lean back into the kiss “Grandmother thinks they’ll heal quickly, but my ribs-” he breaks himself off, laughing a little strained. “I fucked them up pretty good”
You frown.
He always does this. Always downplays his pain. You will have none of it, you grab his hand and tug “Come, I will make you tea”
Neteyams hairless brows raise “You dont have to, I’m really fine”
“Bah” you lead him to your bed and push gently on his shoulders until he sits. “Enough, it is no trouble”
You keep an ornate clay kettle next to the fire, boiling water always ready. He watches you as you fiddle with the many little jars in your arsenal, collecting herbs here and there. Steeping them in the hot water before pouring him a steaming cup.
“Here- it is bitter, but it will dull the pain”
Neteyam accepts the tea with a small smile “Irayo(thank you)”
It’s nice having him in your space. In your bed amongst all of your softest things as the fire crackles and illuminates the tent in a warm glow.
The shadows it casts over his angular face make him look haunting. So beautiful.
You like to take care of things. Instruments. Broken pottery. Children. It comes naturally to you.
You dote on him even though he protests, check his bandages and make him drink the whole cup of strong leaf tea, before he lies down. You're perched beside him, still on the edge of the bed mat.
“I didn't come here to be nursed, Y/N” he sighs as you rub salve on one of his nastier bruises.
“Humor me” you reply wryly, your dainty fingers all over him.
It takes him a while to relax, as it always does.
But oh, its your favorite thing.
Watching his walls come down and the facade of Olo’eyktan in training slip. Neteyam is funny and witty and a downright gossip. You enjoy talking to him as much as you enjoy getting fucked by him.
You like that when given the opportunity and the ear to do so; he loves to talk. About any and everything. His deep voice is like a blanket, warming you up from the inside out.
“I feel bad. I sneak in here; scare you and then make you take care of me” He snorts, “You must be so sick of me”
“No” you reassure with gentle touches “Never that”
You dont really know what Neteyam sees in you.
You’re pretty enough- but far from the gorgeous warriors and dancers that throw themselves at him. But when he looks at you, like he is now, you know there must be something. Something that turns those eyes of his to molten amber. They’re hungry, you’ve never seen him look at anything the way he looks at you. Except maybe the prey that ends up victim to his arrows.
He makes you want to be good to him. Be good for him.
“I enjoy taking care of you” you whisper as you trace the leather cords of his tweng, your fingertips dipping dangerously below them. “Can I take care of you tonight, Neteyam? You want me to?”
Neteyam nods slowly, making room for you as you climb carefully over him. Spread his legs enough for you to settle between them.
You cant help it, cant help how much you touch. You cant get enough of the feeling of his strong body under your hands. All of that corded muscle, all of his pretty deep tahini speckled skin. His strong calves, his well built thighs.
When you reach where he’s hard, straining against his cloth, his eyes flutter closed. You rub him until he chubs up, all plump and hard. Until a patch of wetness starts to darken the cloth-
“Help me a little, sayrip(handsome)”you urge as you tug on the strings of his tweng. Neteyam lifts his slim hips, helps you shimmy it down his thighs-
You’ve seen him naked more times then you can count, now. But still. You’re always struck by it.
His cock springs free- thuds against his well toned lower stomach. Drooling and pulsing, the tanhi there exceptionally bright. He’s so pretty, so vulnerable that it goes to your head. Your leaning in, tongue first-
“Wait,” Neteyam gruffs, “I want to see you too”
Ah.
Neteyam was very partial to your body. He’d told you many times- would try to wrangle you out of your skirt whenever he got the chance.
You smile, raising up on your knees before tugging the gossamer top off, over your head, Your nipples are hard and peaked, reacting to the cold. You run your fingertips over them, knowing that he likes a show. He likes to watch. He props himself, arm behind his head as he does so, it feels so lewd to play with your breasts for him. To trail your hands slowly down your tummy, to your full hips- tugging on the strings of your own tweng.
When the mound of your pussy is revealed he groans, he can see the way your slick shines in the low fire light.
“Good Mother” Neteyam’s rough and demanding as he yanks on you, pulls you into a kiss “You’re so fucking sexy”
His kiss is fervent and you could so easily lose yourself to them- you know what he wants. He’s already inching closer to your hot wet slit, his big fingers kneading at your plush asscheeks.
“Lemme take care of you” your mumble is insistent, and he sighs. Letting you pull away. Letting you re situate yourself between his legs.
He just lays back flat once more, a lazy grin on his face. “Okay, baby. Take care of me”
You’d always loved giving pleasure with your mouth, and lovers you’d had before had told you how good you were at it. You liked the taste and feel of a heavy cock on your tongue.
With Neteyam, as everything seems to be, it’s different. You dont just like giving him head, you love it.
You love the way that he jerks when you give his rosy tip that first little lick. You love the salty tang of his precum, so much that you spread it all over. Your lips, your cheeks. You rub his cock along your face, nuzzling it. Your cheeks, chin and nose wet with him. You love the way it stretches your lips as you take him into your mouth- he’s the biggest you’ve ever had and it pushes you to your limit. The hinge of your jaw aching as you force him down your throat.
“You’re such a good girl for me” Neteyam praises you, all choppy. His long fingers tangled in your waist length hair.
That is what you adore the most.
The Omaticayan prince is so vocal. He’s all whimpery moans and deep gritty groans. He lets you know exactly what he likes and doesn't like. And he rains down praise on you like its his job.
You’re his good girl. His sweet berry. His little whore..
You take it so well. So- ah- determined for him. You ram him down your tight convulsing throat ,until you’re sobbing around his dick. Never trying to pull away. Eager to get him off.
It is the most shameful position you’ve ever been put in. You’re addicted to the way that me makes you feel- you could never allow yourself to be this with anyone else.
“I-Im close” He warns as though that's not exactly what you want.
“Good” you hum, before diving back in. Suckling on the head and the sensitive sides of his shaft over and over. Just like you know he likes it.
It doesn't take long at all, you can feel him twitching n your mouth. His balls, so full and swollen, start to pull up, taught and ready to blow.
“Oh fuck, Y/N. Fuck”
He gasps as he knots his fingers at your scalp, as he holds on for dear life, his hips swiveling madly. His belly concaving with his heaving, rapid breaths as as his orgasm rips through him.
It’s a good one. You can tell. He’s biting his lips bloody and grinding his head back into your pillows, eyes tightly closed as he rides the waves of pleasure. The whole time, he fists your hair, holding your face to his crotch.
You take his cum, all of it. Popping the tip on your mouth and catching the thick spurts with your tongue. He tastes so good, it feels so intimate to get to have him like this. You close your eyes and savor it, dont pull off until he's twitching and whining with over sensitivity.
You sit back on your haunches, wiping your messy mouth clean with the back of your hand and assessing the damage.
Neteyam is all shivery, his arm thrown over his face as he comes down from the high. He’s still struggling to catch his breath and you cant help the pride that
“You feeling any better, baby?” the human term of affection rolls off your lips, smug and sultry and he laughs behind his arm.
It takes a few moments, but he finally collects himself “You are way too good at that” he’s told you before, but repeats it as he pulls you close. You’re perched in his lap, his strong arms around your waist as he holds you close.
“I like watching you” you admit between the pecking kisses “I like the way you come”
He smiles into your mouth, you can feel his sharp canines on your lips “That’s my good girl”
You full body shiver at the praise, gritting your forehead against his and breathing through your nose in an attempt not to lose it. You're gushing between your legs, your thighs a sticky mess and your cunt swollen and blood hot.
“Your turn, huh? Come on, I know that pussy has to be needy. You want me to eat it?” Neteyam whispers hotly in your ear and you just groan.
And while his skills with his tongue are legendary, you’re feeling particularly empty, needing to be full of him after weeks of distance “Mmm, no. Want you inside of me”
“Can do” he affirms, his hands going to your hips, nudging you “Lay down, I’ll fuck you, paskalin. I’ll fuck you so good. Wanna’ stretch you out”
“Wait” you press a hand to his chest when you notice the grimace on his face. The one he’s trying to hide as he attempts to lift you “You’re still hurting, Nete”
“I’ll be fine, I’ve got you” He assures, stubbornly “I want you to feel good, too”
He’s not the only one who's stubborn. You wiggle out of his grip, pressing down firmly on his chest.
“We can try something else” you suggest, really not wanting him to hurt himself even worse. Neteyam can get…intense when hes fucking you. It’s all very physical, he pours buckets of sweet down onto you as he works your body.
“You want to get fucked” He reminds you, his hips jerking up pointedly so that you can feel his erection between your legs.
Eywa, yes you do. You want him, you want him to carve his way into your body. To bully your tight walls until they accommodate his wide girth.
You bite your lip and reach for his length, pumping his cock thats still wet with your spit before leaning in close so that you can whisper in his ear “We’re just going to have to compromise”
Neteyam is huffy until you sink down onto him and ride him until neither of you can formulate thoughts.
Until you’re boneless, tangled limbs and buried under your quilts.
The afterglow is your favorite.
Neteyam is always so gentle and tender after sex. He holds you, lets you lie your head on his chest and listen to the steady thrumming beat of his heart as he plays with your hair. The only thing that could make this better is if he reached for your kuru. Is if you got to experience Tsaheylu with him-
It’s not fair,
How could he expect you not to fall in love with him?
The quiet stretches on. The fire is dim and dying and the tent is mostly black, night creeping in and covering you both in darkness.
“I’m sorry” his voice almost startles you, his words confusing and unexpected “I’m sorry I ignored you- the day we came back. I was trying to figure out how to calm my dad down. He was so pissed and Lo’ak’s attitude only makes it worse-”
You don't say anything. You just keep listening to his strong heart.
“I didn't mean to hurt your feelings”
You don't respond for a while. You don't want to shatter the atmosphere that is shimmy fly wing delicate “I was just happy to see you alive. It terrifies me, that you’ll leave on one of these raids and never come back. I dont- I wouldn't know what to do if that happened”
“I'm not going to leave, Y/N” his arms tighten around you and you close your eyes, relishing the way he holds on to you. It makes you feel like maybe you're not the only one desperate for this to never end.
“Do you promise?” You sound young, look so small in his big arms.
“I promise”
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Weeks later, The Sully’s leave the tribe.
They’re running, fleeing for the good of the Omaticaya people- that is what Jake says. He claims it is for the best. You have never doubted his prowess as Olo’eyktan until that moment.
The tribe mourns, falls into great sorrow as the family says their goodbyes.
You can not bear to look. You drown in your tears and hide in the crowd. Will not meet Neteyams gaze no matter how much he tries to get you to.
When he mounts his ikran and takes to the skies you feel something inside of you shatter. He disappears into the vast horizon.
Neteyam leaves.
You were a fool to believe he’d keep his promise.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Welp. Um hi guys lol. I was like let me post something short and sweet to come back with before I start hitting you guys with all of my Kinktober prompts next month. Somehow I ended up with a 5k angst filled what could be first chapter of a series. LOL I HATE MYSELF AND THE FACT THAT I CANT WRITE ONE SHOTS.
I literally don't have the time to work on another story, but if this one was a little too much angst, I'd be glad to give us a fix it Part Two.
This will be the last kind of stand alone update until after October. If you havent alread, check out Luna’s( @pandoraslxna )Kinktober prompt list. She is such a gem for cultivating it and helping keep this fandom alive and thriving.
As usual, please leave me some feedback. Good, bad(not mean though lol my psyche’s very fragile rn) I want to hear your thoughts!
Love ya, pretty babies!
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kcrossvine-art · 3 months
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hi birds of paradise and of prey! I sincerely hope your 2024 has been kind to you so far, and if it hasn't, I hope it starts being fucking nicer soon. We got eyes on it and are ready to take it out should it fail.
I'm coming to the end of my list here soon, so if anyone has ideas on what they'd like to see next, please do hit me up! Even if its just a piece of media with interesting food in it and not a specific dish you wanna see. My roommate got me a recipe book from that TikTok fantasy tavern guy, "recipes from the lucky gryphon"? So we could also take a shot at a few of those, although im not really familiar with his work. Regardless-
We will be making Stuffed Cabbage from Lord of the Rings Online today!
(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)
MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS
SO, “what goes in to this Stuffed Cabbage?” YOU MIGHT ASKYou cant kinda put whatever you want for seasonings and even the meat filling. I used ground beef but pork and lamb are also stellar candidates.
Yellow onion
Garlic
2 eggs
Ground beef
Rice
A head of cabbage
Oregano
Thyme
Red pepper flakes
Cumin
Crushed tomato
Tomato sauce
AND, “what does this Stuffed Cabbage taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASKBa bawsa
Very, very filling wow
2 rolls filled me up for a meal and i made about 20-ish from one head of cabage
A bit plain tbh, the texture is great but I'd really double up on the seasonings
A blank canvas for you to impart your spice preferences onto
Reheating makes it taste almost identical to fresh
Would pair well with a hot sauce dip
could also go well with an artichoke dip
If you run out of room and need to layer the rolls, I'd try experimenting with pouring some of the crushed tomato and sauce inbetween the stacked rolls. Otherwise the ones at the bottom lack a lot of the tomato flavor. However it might make the bottoms on the rolls laying ontop soggy?
. Where rice called for, used long grain white rice
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I've never blanched anything before. Theres not much western food that calls for it, meanwhile whenever my friend from malaysia shows a dish they ate, 9 times out of 10 the vegetables are blanched. Much easier process than the fancy name might suggest- boil water and dunk the thing in until its done. Whatever 'done' may be for the thing you are cooking.
Also for the ground beef (or whichever meat you use) you don't have to cook it beforehand, but in doing two tries at making these cabbage rolls i would recommend you at least season your meat before mixing it with everything else. The meat will cook to a safe temperature inside the cabbage rolls, i just prefer the taste and texture of it when cooked twice.
I give this recipe a meandering 7/10 (with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) I want to review more horrible recipes, truly i do, so that the rating scale isnt always a 6 and above, but whenever i try something horrible its like "why the fuck would i put all the effort into making and sharing a review of this thing i Do Not Want others to eat????" yknow?? Would people be interested in roasting horrible recipes? 
🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁
Ingredients:
1 yellow onion
6 cloves of garlic
2 eggs
2 lbs ground beef
1 1/2 cup cooked rice
1 large head of cabbage
28oz crushed tomato
14oz tomato sauce
Oregano
Thyme
Red pepper flakes
Cumin
Salt/pepper
Method:
Saute garlic and onion in butter over medium heat until onions are caramelized. When done, remove from heat and let cool.
Season the beef to your liking with cumin, red pepper, and salt. Very, very lightly cook the beef in the same pan used for the garlic and onions. Cook until it starts to brown, but dont let it darken. 
Beat eggs thoroughly with oregano, thyme, salt, and pepper.
Add all of the above ingredients together in a bowl with (cooked!) rice. Mix thoroughly then cover and let rest in the fridge.
Core and blanche your cabbage in boiling water, peeling them off as they become limp.
Once you've separated all the leaves, cut off any thick stems that would prevent the leaf from folding.
Put roughly 2 tablespoons of meat filling into each leaf. Fold the sides of the leaf inwards and roll it up. Place each cabbage roll seam-down into a casserole dish.
If they don't all fit in one layer, its more than okay to stack. Try not to stack more than 2 layers though.
Once you've used all the cabbage, take your can of tomatos and pour them over the rolls. Mix some oregano into the tomato sauce and pour that over the rolls as well.
Bake uncovered in the oven at 350 for about 2 hours. Dont worry if a bit of tomato on top looks burnt.
IF REHEATING LEFTOVERS: Bake 10 cabbage rolls in the oven at 320 for about 40 minutes. Reduce time for less rolls.
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cloudysleepingzone · 2 months
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Heya^^ could we possibly get some romantic hcs about dazai, atsushi, and possibly fyodor with a artist s/o, they sometimes doodle on unimportant papers when the meetings are way too boring for them , and sometimes when they have free time they draw their lover in their sketchbook, maybe a painting or two of their lover <3 anyways love your writing and don't forget to hydrate! Have a wonderful day or night!!
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BSD with an Artist S/O
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Decided to add Chuuya and Tecchou due to a very similar request!
Contents : Dazai, Atsushi, Fyodor, Chuuya and Tecchou x Reader (separate), gender neutral reader (they/them used), fluff, suggestive for Dazai's part and sorta Tecchuu? Not really. Pet Names.
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Dazai Osamu
Doesn't matter what your drawing, he's watching.
Can you blame him though? He just loves watching his lover just doing something they enjoy!
If you draw him he will start acting like a dramatic prince for a solid 10 minutes.
"(Name), draw me like one of your French girls~"
You sit quietly at your desk, the surface covered with your sketchbook and a handful of pencils and pens. "Belllaaa~!" Though your peace is interrupted by your loving boyfriend trying to get out of doing his job again. "What are you drawing beautiful?" He leans over you, his arms wrapping around you from behind as he props his chin on your shoulder. The sketchbook page had small doodles of the two of you, mostly just small cute doodles of holding hands, Dazai tilts his head slight to the side, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. "You know, if you need any ideas you could always draw us with less clothes~"
Atsushi Nakajima
Our sweet boy
He's so supportive of your work he loves seeing the look on your face when you make something your proud of
You draw him? Oh boy...he can't even form words
"You're getting even better sweetheart, you keep improving!"
Your a mess, your finger tips covered in different shades of blue and grey, just like the tip of your paintbrush. Atsushi was behind the canvas, laying comfortably on your shared bed with a soft smile on his lips. "Am I doing alright? I'm not moving too much?" He was doing an amazing job. A perfect job. "Your doing good sweetheart, I'm almost done". You've drawn him from memory plenty of times before, but it feels so much more romantic with him right in front of you. "You look really pretty when your focused..." He mumbles under his breath, even if your the one painting him, he's the one doing the most admiring <3
Fyodor Dostoevsky
To a non familiar eye he seems completely uninterested or even annoyed at your interests. But that's far from true
He adores your work though he sucks at showing it
Got a piece you're really proud of? Yep he's putting it in a fancy frame
You? Drawing him? Aren't you just a sweetheart...
It was already late at night, the curtains had been drawn and you were currently in the shower. Meanwhile your husband Fyodor was already dressed in something more comfortable and was waiting for his dear. Fyodors finger tips gently run over the cover of your current sketch book, which laid on top of a desk in your shared bedroom. He picks up the sketchbook, flipping through the pages slowly before a certain page catches his eye, a page seemingly dedicated to just him. His normally cold and hard gaze softens a bit at the sight, some being full line art and color and others being simple messy doodles. His admiring is interrupted by the sound of the bathroom door opening. "Sweetheart what are you doing?". Your husband gently closes your sketchbook, setting it down onto the expensive hard work surface. "Just admiring your work my dear..."
Chuuya Nakahara
New art supplies? He's buying it. You want a new set of expensive as hell paint brushes? Pfft, pocket change.
If you even mention getting into a new form of art he's already handing you his credit card without another question.
"It looks pretty already doll, make sure to show me when it's done yea?"
Like Fyodor, he puts his favorite pieces in fancy frames <3
You walk into Chuuya's at home office, not bothering to knock (not like he minds) "Chuuya, I finished that painting you wanted to see!" He slowly turns his chair around, a small smirk on his face, completely ignoring his task of sorting through files for now. "Let me see it babe". You turn the canvas around, showing him your paintwork you've spent a few weeks on. He stand from his seat, walking up to you and placing a gloved hand on your cheek, planting a loving kiss on the other. "It looks beautiful sweetheart, just like you. I'll be hanging it up." Chuuya had already started a small selection of your art that was displayed in fancy gold and silver frames over a fireplace, in the style as if they were million dollar paintings. To him they may as well be, to him your art is priceless. Your priceless.
Tecchou Suehiro
You could make something weird and he'll like it
He will just silently watch you draw whatever, doesn't matter what.
"That looks good sweetheart"
Drawing him? God I don't know if his heart can take something so sweet!
Here you are, sitting on your boyfriend's back while he does sit ups. It was actually pretty normal at this point. The only sounds in the room was the huffs coming from Tecchuu throat and the sounds of pencil scratching against paper. "Hm...maybe I should draw you like this, it would be pretty good anatomy practice" you quickly sketch up some messy line art you can fix later, shifting slightly to show Tecchuu. "Huff Looks good" Despite the slight strain in his muscles he's able to respond pretty easily. I get up from your seat on his back, letting him get up with a groan before stretching his arms. Moving your pencil back to the paper, you continue to look from your boyfriend to the paper back and forth. "This is a bit better" you your sketch book around, it was just a simple sketch of his muscular figure but it was like fine art in his eyes. "You've been improving a lot haven't you?"
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khristie16 · 3 months
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Your daddy Carlos paid for your visit to Paris as a birthday present for you and in order to make it better, he travels to you to show a side of himself not many people know
Warnings: just sweet asf
Based on this request ^^ : Meow
I’ll pick you up at seven at your place;)
You just were at your solo trip to Paris to explore the city you’ve always wanted since you were a kid. And today you were supposed to see your boyfriend. Just last week you had your birthday and Carlos made you decide on what you wanted for the gift. You liked jewelry and beautiful piece of clothes but you were really feeling to go travelling instead and that is why you’re right now in a fancy hotel at 15 place Vendôme.
Carlos wanted to spend your birthday with you and had a nice plan to visit you on your last two days to enjoy the time together.
You’ve put the last pieces to your fabulous outfit and waited for Carlos to arrive, already excited about what he planned for the two of you. You cannot wait much longer to see his beautiful big brown eyes and get lost in the warmth of them, as now when you finally meeting him in front of his car waiting for you. You kissed softly as he had a hold on you laying his hand on your waist to keep you close to him. You chuckled at his actions scratching your nails on the back of his neck. He groaned in response and closed his eyes.
“I missed you”
You smile and plant a kiss on his right cheek.
“Me too”
Smile was the first thing he saw after opening his eyes again and the light sparkled in them it warmed your heart.
“Let’s go”
Carlos opened the doors for you to hop in and be excited about what’s to come.
After few minutes the engine turned down and it made you wonder why you’re stopping. You turned your head to your handsome boyfriend to get some answers.
He was already smiling. “We’re here already”
The air outside was getting colder with each passing second as it was early spring. You hugged your arms and looked around. The moment you realised where he took you, he was already reading your mind and responding to you.
“I hope you haven’t been there yet?”
You shook your head with a smile on your lit up face.
Goosebumps on your skin disappeared the minute you went inside and walked together through the security X-ray.
“I didn’t know you liked art?”
A soft smile on his face and eyes on the floor signalled you it was not something he talks about much and your curiosity with this fact only grew. He had to chuckle to see you that way because he loved your curious nature.
“I’ve actually studied Art History back in home”
Your mouth fell open as you couldn’t put Carlos and Art together, but you closed it as soon as it opened so he doesn’t feel bad he told you. He just shook his head and shrugged.
“Let me show it to you my way”
Light beautiful decorations all around the space you two were right now standing in made you feel like you’re breathing a different type of air in here and lift you up with a different energy you immediately sensed all the possible symbolisms and meaning displayed on the canvas.
“That’s Luig Loir”
He nodded towards the painting on his right.
“Loir was a master of capturing everyday scenes with a touch of enchantment. Notice how his use of vibrant colors and soft brushstrokes brings life to the bustling streets and tranquil landscapes.”
You take a look properly on the painting and try to concentrate on those colors and contrast they give. You tilt your head slightly to see more.
“Do you like it?”
He suddenly asked you which made you frown and wonder where the urgency came from. When you looked at him you saw a slight worry on his face.
“Y-yes of course! It’s a masterpiece.”
You’ve heard a light sigh left his lips and his composure relaxed a bit.
“Whether it's a bustling Parisian street corner or a peaceful countryside vista, his attention to detail draws you into it and you can see how effortlessly he worked with lights and shadows”
You cannot hold back yourself to observe Carlos instead because you’ve never seen him like this. It made you feel intrigued?
“Does it make you feel anything ?”
Answer came to your conscious as you narrowed your eyes some more back on the painting.
“It all look so slow and simple. I feel kinda nostalgic to be honest.”
With the last words you snapped to him as if waiting to be corrected from your teacher. He smirked a little and nodded. You felt immense sense of pride filling your veins and you had to blush for yourself. Damn this guy is so much more than he let you know.
“In essence, Luig Loir's style can be described as a harmonious blend of realism and romanticism, capturing the beauty and charm of everyday life with a touch of poetic flair.”
His warm eyes landed on yours with a serious undertone.
“That’s why I like you. You’re like a piece from this old man. Real yet charming as the fairytale itself”
His broad shoulders were now facing you and closing the distance between the two of you. His hands cupped your face. Your eyes on contrary were wide open with so much admiration for this man and for the way he makes you feel. The presence of his eyes on your lips made you lick them.
“No, baby”
Frown appeared on your face, searching for answers in his warm eyes.
“If I kiss you, I won’t be able to stop.”
You bite your lower lip because you’re a brat that likes to play with your daddy Carlos. And he loves it. His low groan and amusement in his voice made you melt and wetter by the passing second as his scent filled your nostrils and let your imagination run wild as all those paintings here.
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pathetic-sapphic · 9 months
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Hello! Been obsessed with all your work, thank you for feeding the arcane simps🫠 would you consider doing the arcane ladies (vi, jinx, sevika, grayson, mel) caring for r in subspace? I know you already did general aftercare, but I was thinking about how sweet and soft they’d be when you’re extra sensitive and vulnerable like that and just ahhh
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VI knows this is normal but that doesn't stop her from being so worried about you. Always careful about what she says and does. If you let her, she'll gently hold you in her arms and whisper praises into your ear. Likes to tenderly caress your hair and press kisses against the top of your head. If you're feeling particularly vulnerable or tear up, Vi immediately shushes you and reassures you that everything is alright, you're safe here with her.
Shhh, you're alright, baby. It's okay, I'm here and I'm not leaving you, okay? You don't have to answer that, I know you're tired. It's alright, you can sleep, I'm not gonna leave. Rest for a bit, sweetheart, you deserve it and I'll be right here when you wake up, okay? Good, always so good for me, sleep tight.
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Although JINX usually has a hard time being still, she's ready to do anything as soon as she sees the unfocused look in your eyes. Quickly realizing you've gone into subspace, she bundles you up in your comfiest blanket, puts your favorite drink on the nightstand and curls up next to you. She'll latch onto you like a koala if you're okay with touch and she'll ramble about anything and everything while gently caressing the bruises she left on your pretty body. If you're up for it, she will draw on you with body safe marker, doodling cute flowers and writing praises on your skin.
Oh, toots, I can see by that look in your eye that you're already far gone. It's okay, no worries! I'm here and I'll take good care of you, you're safe with me baby! I'll hold you allll night long if that's what you need, you don't even hafta ask! Hey, how about I paint this pretty canvas of yours even more? I have some nice ideas as long as you don't mind. Good, I'll show you just how much I appreciate you and how good and beautiful you are for me.
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If you're up for it, CAITLYN prepares a nice, warm bath for the two of you. She'll have you sit on her lap, gently wash your tired body and give you a soft massage. Loves knowing how safe you feel with her, especially when she feels how relaxed and pliant your body is. Whispers praises into your ear and pecks your cheek every now and then. She will hold you and draw patterns on your back with her fingers, lulling you to sleep. Afterwards, she'll dry you off and take you to bed, telling you one last time just how proud of you she is and how you were so so good for her.
Darling, how about we take a bath? It'll help you unwind and after what I just put your poor, sweet body through, you'll need it. Don't worry, I'll carry you. Just relax, be good and let me take care of you, alright? There, that's my good girl, just relax, I'm here. Feel free to doze off, darling, I'll wake you up once the water starts getting cold. Afterwards, you'll need to drink some water and then we'll cozy up and fall asleep together, how does that sound? Good, just close your eyes now and rest. I love you so much, my dear.
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SEVIKA's number one priority is to make you feel grounded and safe, so holding you on top of her body seems like the best option. She has you laying on her chest, knowing that hearing her heartbeat calms you. She'll share bits and pieces of dark chocolate and sips of water with you, making sure you're doing alright and aren't feeling hurt in any way. She knows her words and actions can seem rough in the heat of the moment, so she makes sure to give extra praise and cuddles afterwards, especially when it affects you like this.
There, lay on top of me, sweetheart, I promise you're not heavy at all. Put your ear against my chest and relax, I've got you. You were great just now, you know that? Made me feel so good and you were so obedient for me, I love seeing you like that. You're perfect for me, you know? I don't ever want you to doubt it, you're my darling girl. Now, are you hungry? Here, I brought some chocolate, just be good and let me feed you, alright? You're adorable, baby.
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GRAYSON is the softest and most gentle lover you'll ever have the pleasure of being with. She is very caring and attentive so she picks up on your situation quickly and is already taking care of it. First she makes sure you aren't hurt or too sore in any places, next she makes you drink some water and then holds you in her arms until you come to. She is honored to have your trust like this, Grayson knows that it can't be easy for you to feel so vulnerable in front of her but it makes her love you even more. Let's you wear one of her shirts as she knows her scent calms you down and keeps you grounded. Softly caresses your cheek and waits until you're more focused after which she prepares a bath for the two of you.
Are you alright, darling? I didn't go too hard on you did I? You know I could never forgive myself if I hurt you, I hope you won't feel too sore tomorrow. Don't worry, I already took a day off so we'll be able to relax as much as we want and I can carry you around if you wish. Drink some water, good girl. I have some sandwiches waiting for you once you feel better, but not before we take a bath. Don't worry, I'm here for you, beloved and I'll take good care of you, okay?
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MEL knows she can be a demanding and strict lover, so when she sees you go into subspace, she makes sure to do her duty and be there for you. There's an array of snacks and drinks next to the bed, as well as a steaming bath just waiting for you. But before that, Mel wants you relaxed and satisfied, so she makes sure to rub some lotion into your pliant body while showering it in kisses. Her gaze lingers on each bruise she left, hoping that she wasn't too hard on you. As much as she loves hearing your whimpers and begging, the last thing she wants is for you to be hurt. Kisses the shell of your ear while whispering sweet nothings and softly brushes her fingers through your hair. A soft smile adorns her face from seeing your blissful expression. She adores you and wants you to know that she thinks the world of you.
Does that feel good, sunshine? Yes, I thought you'd like the smell of this lotion, it's the same one that I use so you get to smell like me. I'm sorry, you know I cannot help wanting everyone to know you're mine. I know you don't actually mind, you love the idea of people seeing my claim over you, don't you? Maybe I should get you a collar for next time- Oh! Forgive my silly ponderings, darling. There's no need to be shy, you know I love to tease you. Now, are you hungry? How about we eat and then go and take a bath together? I'll wash your hair for you if you want.
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dailyhatsune · 2 months
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hi! not exactly a request but i do wanna ask, whats your process when you're rendering more paint like art? (if that makes sense, English isnt my first language so apologies hdskhsjdbd) i really love how you use the colors and im curious how you do it :0
i’ve been meaning to answer this one for a while so here’s how i painted miku in today’s post (put under the read more because yeah prepare for a long post
i’d also like to preface this by saying that i never follow a set way of doing things, so in terms of what my personal process is like, these are only broad strokes of what i do! sometimes i’ll combine or skip parts entirely, depending on how i feel. also, this is not a tutorial, just how i do things, so please don’t treat it like one :’D this will read like the ‘how to draw an owl’ picture if you do
first, like every artist, i sketch. more specifically, i’m getting an idea of what i want to paint later on. this could be how a scene is set up or in this case, how a character is posed. here i’m not concerned about details or getting everything perfectly, i’m only planning how the thing will be composed. maybe a lot of canvas size changing, or adjusting what miku’s doing (note how busted miku’s right hand looks from all the transforming!) however, i still have to be concerned with how clear the sketch will be to future me, because the sketch won’t be any good if i can’t read what miku’s doing
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after that, i lay down a flat gray under the sketch, mainly focusing on giving miku a clear silhouette. this is also a good time to make adjustments to the composition on the fly if i suddenly feel like something can be improved upon, like shortening miku’s left arm from the sketch!
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after painting a flat silhouette, i start shading in grayscale, focusing only on lighting. i usually do it in two passes, one for the lightest and darkest tones i’ll use (not black and white) and then a second for midtones to blend them better with the base gray but i forgot to screenshot the result of the first pass 🗿 nevertheless, here is where i can start adding some amount of details. i’m not including any extra accessories yet, just focusing on the base design of the outfit and the character herself (for anyone wanting to draw characters from That Gacha Game, this is how i personally make the process more bearable for myself.) i still use the dark gray to separate where certain details (like the facial features and fingers) begin and end, mainly to make colouring more bearable later.
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now here’s where i get the Good Colours. it’s a cheat lol. i put a gradient map layer over the grayscale painting so that there’s a little bit of color to start. some gradient maps can be applied as is, some need the layer settings adjusted to make it look good. this one, for example, is a (free) gradient map set from the csp assets store that needs you to set the layer opacity to 20% and to set the blending mode to color to achieve this result. in general, i tend to pick which gradient map i want to use based on vibes, or basically whether i want the work to be warmer or cooler, colour-wise. but this does do quite a bit of lifting for the colors in my stuff.
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and then, finally, i add the colours. i add flat base colours in an overlay layer. at this stage, i’ve made the character silhouette clear enough that i don’t need to refer to the sketch anymore for what miku looks like. also, the gradient map layer does its magic by making the shading a bit more vibrant than it would’ve been without it. after that i paint over with a new layer to add details like the lace.
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and then i put some extra shading on top. basically this is where the ‘better lighting’ happens. again, this isn’t a tutorial, so i’m not here to say what each part of the lighting is, but i’ve labeled which layers do which job. in other works where the lighting within a scene is more defined (from a window, from a small crack in the walls, etc) the glow dodge layer may be more opaque and sharper, but since this isn’t a work with that, the lighting was applied using an airbrush. the linear burn layer is also there to make the whole thing darker so the glow dodge doesn’t end up oversaturating miku. i also usually match the lights to the vibe i want, and use a complementary color for the shadows. so here you can see i have warm colors on the glow dodge layer, but light purple on both the linear burn and multiply layer.
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and that’s it for the character—here’s a gif showing how each layer adds to miku! (sorry it’s so toasty)
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as for the background, depending on the complexity, it may go through a similar process, or if i can settle with flat image backgrounds, i just go for that. it’s ok to use external image materials. i didn’t have a background in mind for this miku in specific, so i got some default csp materials and threw together something
and that’s about a rough overview of what my process for more finished works looks like! again, art is a fluid process so i never specifically stick to certain steps all the time, and you shouldn’t either. i can probably answer why i’d pick this colour over another in one particular work, but it’s something that kinda has to be learned on a grander scale. i think everyone can already feel what colors work with what atmosphere or what setting, even if they can’t immediately explain why. colors and composition do take some level of experimentation to find what works best!
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mitsies · 1 year
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the last time you saw isagi yoichi was the final day of your second year at school.
you remember probably too little about him, considering the way you’d held an infatuation with your classmate and co-worker for the past year. you knew he played football, and he had a bright smile, and he hated your chemistry teacher. for someone you spoke to nearly every day, you regretfully didn’t have much to show for it.
every day of that year, you'd go to school and take your seat by him in chemistry class. it wasn't because you knew him or anything- the both of you were the only strangers amid the sea of friends. it just made sense that the both of you stuck together to have at least one person to rely on in that class.
and then, close to when school started back up again, he showed up at your place of work. he'd inquired to your shift manager about employment and hadn't noticed you, who had been fetching a refill of vanilla syrup in the back room. a few weeks later, he'd returned with a familiar apron and a familiar smile.
isagi yoichi was funny. he joked around with you when your chemistry teacher said something stupid, or when a customer made an idiotic request. isagi yoichi was kind. he lent you flashcards he made to study for tests, and he carried heavy canvas bags of coffee beans so you wouldn't have to. isagi yoichi was pretty. sometimes, he'd let his hand card through his hair when a problem really stumped him in class, and others, at work, he'd fit whatever he was holding between his teeth as he used both his hands to tie the back strings of his apron. this was basically all you knew about him, and it was honestly all you needed.
he was easy to have a crush on, and he was easy to talk to and easy to like and easy to squeal about over text with your friends and easy to look at and easy to be around. you weren't surprised at your feelings for him. you think that he maybe even liked you, too. because he'd be blushing a little when he asked to study after class, and he'd be bashful when you made him his own favourite drink by memory before he even clocked in. you and this isagi yoichi could have been something, maybe, if he hadn't vanished into thin air.
school had let out for the summer but you still had to work. you expected to see him at your job- the both of you always took evening shifts on these specific days. but he never showed up. days became weeks, weeks became months, and months turned into a new year. you were a 3rd year, now, and isagi hadn't come back.
you didn't like that you were sad about it. it was embarrassing, really- you hardly knew the guy. but his absence filled you with pining, that stupid teenager feeling of having a crush that didn't work out. you felt like a dumb little movie character when you spent your nights laying on your stomach on bedsheets with your friends, who were all insistent on telling you that moving on was in your best interests, as you twirled a strand of hair around your fingers insisting that it 'wasn't even a big deal.'
but, movies are typically based on a little truth, and time really did heal all wounds because a few weeks into your 3rd year you stop thinking about him as much. instead, you're occupied by physics class and the cute transfer student in your history. isagi doesn't really cross your mind- not until you see his face on a magazine.
he's the entire front page, surrounded by an indigo background looking particularly befuddled and a little bit lost. you blink at it but it doesn't go away. at first, you're surprised and impressed- so that's where he's been. and then you think he's lucky because he doesn't have to take physics.
that's all there is to it, for you. no deeper, 'oh, he was the love of my life, i'm so sad,' or whatever. you can't really be bothered with that at the moment. you have a maths test on tuesday and you're trying really hard to conjure new plans which might get your new history class crush to look your way.
after that, he's nothing but a silhouette in the back recesses of your mind. isagi yoichi is a name you bring up as a silly piece of trivia to impress new people by the fact that yeah, you knew him back in the day. isagi yoichi is a former crush whose smile you can't really recall. isagi yoichi is unimportant to you. isagi yoichi may as well not exist.
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you're 22 when you see him again.
you're at a stupid little party that you only attended because your close friend was hosting. he, unbeknownst to you, had remained friends with isagi throughout his absence. you didn't know he'd be coming until you saw him there, standing awkwardly amongst some overly-friendly faces who chatted his ears off about things he didn't really hear over the loud blaring of the music.
lights paint his skin pink and he looks so much different than you remember. his shoulders are broader. his arm muscles casually tense as he reaches for something across a kitchen counter. his smile is the same, though, and it rekindles a memory locked away deep in the maze of your mind. oh, you think, you liked him a lot back then.
oh, you realise, he's here. right now. a few feet away.
oh, you see, oh. he's coming over to you right now.
the party is so loud that you can't hear what he's saying. he tries to talk a few more times before giving up, blinking at you owlishly as he stands with no idea what to do next. luckily for him, you know this house and you beckon for him to follow you out a door.
the house is big, and its balcony is spacious. the cold night air is a welcome change from the heat of the confinement inside. you can finally hear isagi when he says your name followed by a polite greeting. "it's been a while."
"it has."
"still a barista?"
you laugh. "hell no. i quit as soon as i could."
you tell him about your profession now, and he listens. he asks you a few questions and it takes you a little bit to reply because you're kind of taken aback by how pretty he is. isagi has a sharp smile that's charming and endearing at the same time, and cheeks that grow rosy in the cold night air. his hair is probably a little too long, and it's flopping in front of his eyes so he frequently pushes it back from his face in a motion that makes you breathless. younger you had good taste, you decide. and you're probably not thinking clearly because, after a lull in the conversation, you say it.
"i liked you back in school, y'know."
isagi blinks. "you did?"
"yeah. i really liked you."
he doesn't say anything so you keep going because if there's one thing you're good at, it's making an awkward situation worse. "and then you kinda left. i figured you just quit work and i'd see you at school after the break but you weren't there either."
"i'm sorry." he sounds genuine and butterflies awaken in your stomach, a sensation you haven't experienced in a long time.
"don't be. you were doing cool things, and i was doing physics," you shrug, and he laughs.
"really fucking glad i missed out on physics."
"that's what i said! and it's not all that bad. i got to tell people i knew the isagi yoichi. you actually scored me a date."
"oh? did i?" isagi leans against the banisters of the balcony with his forearms but his gaze is fixed solely on you.
"yeah. a few months after you left, with some foreign exchange student."
"how'd that go?"
"not very good. he was cute but then he told me that he didn't believe in human rights."
"you really know how to pick them."
"for sure." a beat of silence passes before he speaks again.
"and what about now? are you seeing anyone?"
you meet his eyes with an amused smile and he looks away, face stained pink. "so this was all your fancy way of asking if i'm single?"
"no. of course not."
"i am. single, i mean."
he manages to look at you again, and his eyes are bluer than you remember them ever being. "really?"
you giggle and he looks embarrassed, like a kid. "are you doubting me? why would i lie?"
"i dunno. you're just.. you're you. i'd expect everyone to be at your feet."
snorting laughter, you tip your head at him. "i'm flattered."
"i'm serious. you've always just been.. really easy to like."
you blink at him. he keeps on looking at you. "that's funny," you say but it's not, "because i've always thought the same about you."
isagi yoichi is funny. isagi yoichi is kind. isagi yoichi is pretty. and you decide that you probably wouldn't mind falling for him a second time, as he grins at you in that same way he used to and says, "i'm glad we're on the same page, then."
yeah, you decide, yeah. you really didn't mind, not one bit.
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rustboxstarr · 7 months
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Hiiii! How about one where you and Eddie are arguing about keeping the house clean and you tell him you're not his mother to clean up after himself and he just gets angrier until you decide to punish him by not letting him touch you AT ALL and he's fine with it until days pass and he becomes needy AF and you want to give it to him, but not until he complies with your requests of him doing house chores and never once hearing him complain. He agrees but only if you let him absolutely destroy you
🌹The Incentive🌹
Summary: Your work trip is cut short and you're welcomed to a lovely... pigsty. Eddie has to do some real changes and surprisingly, Robin has the solution, cue some horny and desperate ass misery for Eddie hehe.
Pairings: Eddie Munson x Reader
Warnings: Angst, fluff, smut.
Domestic fighting, fear of domestic abuse, talk of R being homeless, talk of rape threats (NOT FROM EDDIE!), low-key kinda toxic for a sec, use of Y/N, yeah homeboy has undiagnosed ADHD, fluff, nakey nakey, Oral m & f receiving, slightly dangerous deep throating oop, P in V, reader is 25 and Eddie 26, established relationship, let me know if i missed any!
Wordcount: 19.5 k
A/N: Thank you so much for this request! I am so sorry it took such a long time to post it but I loved writing it! ❤️ I originally had another approach but I think this one is better haha. I did also create some media for visuals (I think I should keep doing it in the future, idk why but I love visuals, what do ya'll think?) so feel free to check them out! I suggest having a look at them before you start reading :)
Feel free to request, I loved doing this!! ❤️❤️❤️
PS: I didn't want to spoil the Barbie movie other than basic information so its kind of slack but yeah just fyi there is a mention of it :)
Love yas!
Fic visuals
Check out my other works!
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“Oh my fucking god Eddie! I’ve been gone three days, three!” your mouth had dropped wide open as well as your laptop bag which thudded to the floor with the shock you were experiencing when you came home. Dirty dishes piled up on every single empty space -not already occupied by rubbish, food not put back in the fridge, empty beer and soda cans- occupying the kitchen counters. Shoes were haphazardly strewn across the entrance to the door, each one seemingly kicked off, your own were knocked over and precious, expensive heels were right in the line of fire for a trampling. Leather, denim, canvas and blazer jackets alike were littered all around the doormat. Multiple empty and half empty pizza boxes lay stacked on the coffee table, that too hit by the hurricane which was Eddie, rubbish, DnD notes, batteries, magazines and just about everything else could be found on the sleek mahogany wood. 
The discarded clothes that littered the hardwood floor acted as a red carpet for the man himself, Eddie Munson, unfortunately, your boyfriend, screaming into his headset while hunched forward to pay undivided attention to the game on screen, sweatpant clothed legs spread wide with two elbows resting on top, connected to his naked torso. 
He jumped in fright when he heard your shrill voice, he clearly hadn't heard the door open. His face contorted into a pained expression as he slipped one of the cups off his ears, watching you carefully as you scanned the apartment in disbelief. “Heyyy… weren't you uh coming home tomorrow?” his teeth were bit tight as his nose scrunched, waiting for the inevitable reaction. 
“What. The. Fuck. Is. This?” it was clear from the tension in your face that you were visibly fuming, smoke may as well be forcing out of your ears as of this moment. “I.. I gotta go” Eddie whispered into the microphone before taking his headset off completely, as he stood up and reached for the remote you lay notice to the smattering of crumbs that rolled off his chest and fell to the floor. “How come you're here so early baby?” his voice was quiet, both in an attempt to sooth you but also to dampen the whole situation. “Don’t you dare fucking baby me. What the actual fuck am I looking at right now?” your eyes were wide, your limbs stiff as board and teeth clenched in anger, no doubt only worsening the inevitable dental issues you would have in the future from your constant mindless teeth grinding. 
“I was gonna clean up I swear” your stare was unwavering and implying he continue. “You weren't supposed to see any of this, I promise, I was gonna clean up tomorrow before I picked you up from the airport” taking slow steps during each word he uttered he arrived in front of you, hands very gently reaching out to hold your hips. 
Well he was fucked. You pushed him away, almost backing into the door behind you as you began, “They cut the trip short so I came to surprise you, and this is what I come home to? Why would it even be here in the first place?! How do you manage to fucking trash our whole apartment, because I’m guessing theres more shit I’m going to find, IN THREE DAYS?!” he physically flinched at the volume of your voice as it rang around the room. “I-I had the guys over” in comparison to your voice Eddie sounded like a little church mouse as he whispered to you. 
“That is not an excuse! Who the fuck doesn’t clean up after having people over?!” you harshly shoved him out of the way as you stomped past him, heels clicking against the floors, having seen the state of the living room on your right and the kitchen on your left your most important place to inspect was the bedroom. 
Once again Eddie flinched as he heard the loud, shocked gasp that travelled down your throat. “I-I just wanted to relax ya know? For the weekend, no tasks, no cleaning and shit” he followed to stand behind you in the doorway. Sheets were crumpled and falling off the bed, the bedsheet barely even covering the mattress, clothes were scattered everywhere, spilling out of dresser doors behind the usually closed wardrobe door, on the floor, on the bed and both nightstands. Papers were littered across the various fabrics, notes and guidebooks to Dungeons and Dragons thrown on the floor, multiple bottles of various makeup and skincare products severed from their neat collection on your makeup table, instead left on the floor after seemingly being knocked down. 
Both Eddie's laptop and your Ipad -missing from its safekeeping in your bedside drawer- almost completely hidden under half of Eddie's wardrobe on the floor, begging to be stepped on.
“RELAX?! NOT CLEAN?!” you swerved around to face him, “YOU DON’T CLEAN, I CLEAN” an angry finger pointed at yourself, “You don’t do shit! I clean the bathroom, I clean the kitchen, I’m almost always the one picking up after dinner-” “That is not true and you know it”
You chose to ignore his comment as you continued working yourself up to a full blown rage-fit, “I do the laundry-”
“I do it too!” 
“You do it when I ask! I make the bed, I take out the trash”
“You barely ever do that, I almost always take it when I go to work-”
“STOP INTERRUPTING ME!” your high pitched screech made Eddie flinch for the third time tonight and it shut him right up. “Its like I’m living with a fucking child. You're a man-child Eddie. You don’t do shit unless I ask you too, and the only reason you take out the trash is because I had to nag you for two whole months! I am not your mother! I shouldn't have to do this!!” 
Oh how you would have loved to just come home to those almond brown eyes, adorable dimples and smiling lips. How you would have loved to just rewind from the five hour flight home from Wyoming after your shitty conference, just strip off, take a warm bath, listen to music and then wrap up with Eddie in bed while you watched Bob’s Burgers and munched on takeout. Exhaustion ached in your limbs and pulled at your shoulders, it crept up within all the tight seams of your pencil skirt and blouse, it pricked at your heels and toes from those stupid stilettos. It itched in the nylon stockings, it ripped at your throat, it squeezed at your scalp, begging someone to release your hair from the confines of the tight bun your hair was wrapped in. It urged and pleaded with you to take a breath and relax. But you couldn't and wouldn’t let it win. 
“I am not a fucking child” and he had the audacity to scoff at you. As if the garbage dump you were surrounded by wasn't already adding fuel to the fire that puff of air definitely did. “Yes! Yes you are! You are 25 years old and you only just moved out of your poor uncles trailer-” 
“Hey I slept on the couch since I was 21 all the way up to 24” 
“And Wayne slept on it since you were six! He’s a fifty year old man, now with a bad back because of you!” 
“Ok can we please not bring him into this?” 
While it most definitely was a good point on your end, you decided to respect his wishes, it was a little, ok, very mean to bring it up and use it against him. Using one of his weakest points against him when you knew it was one of his most shameful regrets. “Fine! How about we talk about you not being able to get of your fucking ass, get your shit together and be a fucking adult sooner? Huh?” 
“Fuck you, I got a job the second I graduated and started saving. Not everyone is as fucking perfect as you and live on their own since they were 17” His eyes screwed tightly shut the second he heard the words fly out of his mouth. 
“What the fuck did you just say?” oh now you were properly angry, how dare he? “I WAS NOT PERFECT I WAS HOMELESS! FOR THREE YEARS!!” angry red hot tears threatened to spill from your water lines at the fact that you had to explain this to him. “I am so sorry baby, I didn't mean it” callused hands found your waist and slipped to wrap around you. 
“Get the fuck off me!” another set of hands pushed with force at his naked chest, willing him off you. “Don't you dare touch me right now” before you could even think over the words you were saying they had already left your throat; “In fact don't touch me at all” well you’d said it now and you sure as hell weren’t going back on your words. 
“What?” his frown only angered you further, you were only an inch close to tipping point, rage boiling throughout your veins, and if you let yourself you were sure you were about to start kicking, screaming, throwing both fists and any object within range at the walls as well as Eddie. “I said DO NOT FUCKING TOUCH ME, don’t even come near me you’re disgusting” venom was laced in your words as you spat the insult at him. 
“Really you think I’m disgusting?” the annoyed disbelief in Eddie's tone made you actually want to cry, it was as if you were talking to a wall, he wasn't registering a single thing you were saying to him other than the fact that you were having -in his opinion- a bitchfit. You turned away from him in desperation, not being able to look at him. When your eyes fell onto Eddie's bedside table you found the perfect evidence to your point. Stomping over to it you held up the pair of black boxers oh-so carefully thrown onto his lamp. “This Eddie, this is fucking disgusting” you held the underwear up by the waist band to him in show. 
Meeting his eyes you found them wide and swimming with fear, you frowned in confusion, looking back to the underwear and then the bedside table and then you found the icing on the cake, the cherry on top. 
Next to a knocked over bottle of lotion were multiple scrunched up tissues. Dropping the underwear you picked one of them up, holding it out for him. “Is this cum?” the disbelief in both your voice and face caused for an unreadable expression on Eddie's end. “Is this actually fucking semen I am holding right now?!” The wrinkles in Eddie's nose, the scrunched fearful pout and half lidded eyes, forced closed with the movement of his cheeks told you everything you needed to know. 
“EEEEWWW” you screeched, “THE BIN IS RIGHT THERE! RIGHT THERE! Oh my god, I can’t, I’m fucking leaving, fuck this” you stormed past him out in to the open area again. “I am really really sorry” his pleading was lost on you. “Don't” you held a hand up to silence him, “When I come back all this shit” you waved your hands around to showcase the apartment, “-better be gone and properly cleaned up” 
“Wha- Where are you going?” 
“I don’t fucking know but I can’t be here” 
“No baby, please let's just talk about this” his hand reached out to stop yours from grabbing the handbag next to your duffel. “I said don’t touch me! I’m cutting you off!” he frowned at that as you ripped your hand away from him, grabbing the bag and angrily throwing it over your shoulder. “What do you mean you're cutting me off?” true confusion sounded in his words as you turned towards him. “It means until you’ve gotten this fucking shit sorted you’re not touching me, you’re not even going to look at me unless its my face and nowhere else and you sure as hell arent getting kisses, hugs” you began counting off on your fingers as Eddie scoffed “blowjobs, handjobs, boobjobs, you’re not gonna finger me, eat me out, or do anything to me and we’re not gonna be having sex for a looong time” he seemed to finally understand that you were in fact being serious because realisation crept up on his face. A slight hint of desperation showed its trace before it was replaced with mean smugness.
“It’s a two person thing sweetheart, it's not just for me, it’s for the both of us” 
“Yeah? Well I can actually survive without it” your eyebrows raised, anticipating his next words and already prepared with the ‘Oh really?’ look to shame him with. “Puh I can survive without it” he scoffed, Eddie Munson had become predictable, to you anyway, because the look was right on point. “Just last night you were texting me, begging me to go on facetime with you” 
“Couples do that, it's called phone sex” he rolled his eyes. “The night before too, oh! And the night before that as well!” he rolled his eyes harder this time “Wow you caught me I missed my girlfriend jesus christ” you weren't really believing the words you were about to utter, but at this point he was just getting on your nerves with his stupid responses, “Ya’ know what? I don’t think you did miss your girlfriend, everything is about sex with you, it wouldn’t come as a fucking suprise if you’re only in this relationship to get your dick wet, bet all those fucking ‘I love you baby’, ‘I wanna get married and have kids with you’, ‘You mean the world to me’ don’t even mean shit” you whined his quotes, hurt began to show on his face but you chose to push through, “You’re just a fuckin’ manipulator, saying shit cuz you know it’ll get you some” 
The hurt feelings etched in his face dissipated and replaced with anger not unlike your own, “You know that's not true! You know you’re the best fuckin’ thing in my life. Jesus Christ I’m so fuckin sorry I didn’t clean up after myself when literally no one was around to fucking see it! I’m SO sorry that I just wanted a relaxing weekend after slaving away working on trashed cars for clients who treat me like shit!” it was your time to scoff as his voice raised and he was close to shouting. 
The whole thing was too much, nothing had prepared you for this, all you had expected was to come home and spend some quality time with your boyfriend. “I can guarantee you my work is much fucking harder for me” 
“Don't pull that card” 
“Oh no, no I will. Do you have a boss breathing down your neck, pestering you to do his and everyone else's work? No. Do you have 13 hour work days? No. Is your commute to work 3 hours back and forth? No. Do you have wretched coworkers who think it's ok to have a conversation with your boobs? No! Do you have coworkers rubbing up on you without permission? NO! Do you have coworkers who hit on you despite you making it clear you don't want to? Who want sexual favours in exchange for picking up extra shifts? Who threaten to rape you because they don’t get what they want? NO THE FUCK YOU DON’T SO GO AHEAD AND FUCK YOURSELF” neighbours would no doubt be coming up any minute to complain or check on you. If this continued you'd be having a police report on your hands by the morning. 
Tears were running down your cheeks uncontrollably, your voice shook while crescent moons threatened to scar on your palms from how hard you were clenching your fists. Panic spread throughout your body at retelling the tales Eddie had heard long ago, tales you had left dead and buried, tales you had protected yourself from. “I KNOW YOU HAVE IT TOUGH OK? YOU'VE HAD A TOUGH LIFE! BUT SO HAVE I! I JUST WANTED TO RELAX!!” Eddie was shouting now too, his height towering over you as the panic continued to spread, to infect the veins which pumped your blood and leave nothing behind but a rotten carcass. 
For once in your relationship the prospect of Eddie was terrifying to you. The anger in his eyes, in his face, in his whole body. Men were capable of anything, and one wrong button pushed and everything could change, you were a strong independent woman but at the end of the day Eddie was a man, and up against each other, the man will always win. 
“YOU HAD A TOUGH LIFE TILL YOU WERE SIX YEARS OLD! YOU DON'T EVEN REMEMBER IT!!” Anger overtook the terrifying freight that accompanied the panic, the anger was too strong to take a step back from, assess the situation and consider what you might be getting yourself into. But once the loudest scream of the night had been shouted, had rang throughout the room, you got that chance. You needed to calm down, not just for the sake of the argument or your relationship but for the sake of your body and your life. It didn't matter that Eddie could never hurt a fly, it didn't matter that he would shriek in disapproval whenever someone was about to squash a bug, it didn't matter that he still put out food for the raccoons in the alley behind the auto shop, it didn't matter that he spent almost every waking second cherishing you and reminding you of how deep his love for you ran. At the end of the day. He. Was. Still. A. Man. 
You sighed, “I’m not even gonna get into what my life has been like because I know you know. So just fuck off yeah? Clean up this fucking pigstie and don’t speak to me” you could have continued, you could have gone through your whole life story once again. You could have used the fact that your parents had abandoned you in an orphanage before you could even make any sound other than crying, that the orphanage had shut down in your teens, that you had no one else and lived off scraps, food from dumpsters and eventually soup kitchens, you could have used the fact that you ended up in the arms of a man three times your age who used you for your body and fed you delusions about his love for you against him. But your body ached, ached with tiredness, panic, anger and just about every other negative emotion, you couldn't deal with the shouting, the digging up the past, it was just too much. 
Just as he was about to open his mouth you turned and within seconds you were out of the door and out of sight, running away from the problem as fast as your legs would take you, running away just like you always did. Avoiding the problems. 
The chill night air didn't start nipping at your skin until you’d run as far as you could muster, you couldn't have known that the dismissal of changing into comfortable clothes before the flight would be biting you in the ass. Just as you couldn't have known that a shoeless, shirtless Eddie was running down onto the street in search of you but came up short, with no knowledge of where you were or even what direction you were headed. 
Once you slowed to a stop outside a closed cafe the world seemed to come into view again. Your feet and legs were aching, just like every other part of your body, tears were streaming down your face, your lungs were screaming from the pressure, panting as you tried to catch your breath. Looking around your suffering only intensified when you realised you were sat outside Another Broken Egg Cafe, the central hotspot for yours and Eddie's classic autumn dates, curled up in the corner while rain poured down the windows. A loud sob broke out onto the empty side street, nothing but the light of the street lamps to keep you company as your phone rang. Your lungs heaved as the photo of Eddie wrapped around you with a wet kiss landed to your cheek at Steve’s welcomed you lovingly to accompany Eddie's call. Collapsing onto the step of the door to the mom and pop’s coffee shop you let out a silent sob, eyes shut tight, temple meeting the wall as snot and tears alike streamed down your face. 
The ringing kept egging the tears and panic on so you clicked the off button twice, declining his call and letting silence seep into the dark night. Within seconds the ringing started up again, switching your sound off you set the phone down onto the concrete step and let your head fall into your hands while you quieted down. 
The soft cream blouse offered you no warmth whatsoever when you finally levelled to even breaths and wiped off your bodily fluids on the sleeve of it. The relief of finally letting your hair out and slipping your shoes off only lasted so long before a strong gust of wind interfered with your short lived stability. With time you picked up your phone, opening it up to see 18 missed calls and a near 40 texts within the 20 minutes you'd sat down and an extra 10 you'd spent running. 
A mixture of information texts on your missed calls from your operator and Eddies worried ranting took up the space of your lockscreen before you clicked on the latest one and scrolled up in the chat:
Roommate 🙄
This is now your funeral picture babe
Oh fuck off 
Nope promise, everybody gotta see this
You suck 🖕
Yeah but you swallow ;)
Oh gtg, meetings starting, ill . text you tonight bye love you . ❤️
Ok bye princess, good luck, love you too ❤️
10.04 pm
Where the fuck did you go?
Seriously answer me right now!
I need to know where you are
You cant just run off we need to talk about this
Y/N seriously 
Pick up the phone!!!
This is serious we need to talk about this
Come home right now
Im not fucking around
Come home
Now
You need to come home we need to discuss this 
Answer the phone!!
I know youre mad at me but we need to communicate with each other
I dont like you just running off when youre not in the right headspace
Babe seriously where are you?
Princess please pick up the phone I’m rly worried
Baby please I need to know youre ok
Please just answer the call
Or at least text me so i know ur ok 
Please baby i love you so much❤️
I just want to know youre ok
Just send me your location and i can come pick you up 
Please honey im begging you pick up the phone
Ill clean up the bedroom and you can chill in there while i clean❤️
Sweetheart i beg of you, answer the phone
Please just tell me where you are so i can  come pick you up
I need to know youre ok
Please dont just be ignoring me, i just wanna know youre ok
Its freezing out you dont have a jacket baby 
Srsly youre going to catch a cold
Y/N please, we dont have to talk if you dont 
want to i just want to know youre safe
I need to know youre safe
Please baby 
Youre freaking me out 
Please just pick up the phone 
I feel sick knowing youre just out in the city somewhere 
I just want to know youre ok 
Theres really sketchy people out here, just tell me youre safe
Please let me know youre safe???
. . . 
He's still typing in the chat when you finally finish reading his texts, a sinking feeling surrounds your stomach as you sigh, you weren't ready to make up yet and you definitely weren't in the mood to see or talk to him. 
Roommate  🙄
I'm fine. 
Oh thank god!
Where are you princess? 
I don't want to tell you but I’m ok, just give me a sec and I’ll tell you ok?
Ok baby ❤️
Thoughts were swimming around your head while you exited the app, you knew he was clearly quite worried and at least he did respect your wish not to tell him but you really didn't feel ready to explain everything to him, have to be picked up and have a no doubt long talk about the whole ordeal. All you wanted to do was to sleep. 
“Wassup sexy?” Robin’s cheery voice was what caused relief to rush through you as she picked up the phone. “Hi” your tired and admittedly sad voice was not lost on her and it showed when an almost probably equally worried tone matched the one Eddie would have occupied if you had picked up the phone. In reality Eddie's voice would have probably sounded ten times worse than Robin’s “Hey are you ok? You sound sad”. You breathe an eerie chuckle, “Yeah I’m fine, listen I’m sat outside a coffee shop right now, I couldn't handle being in the house, me and Eddie had a fight, don't worry it’ll be ok but can you come pick me up?” 
“I mean yeah of course, but where's Eddie?” 
“I’m not actually sure, I think he’s in the apartment but more likely he's either texting and driving or running around looking for me. I just” you sigh, “I just don't want to see him right now, I’m texting him but can you please just come pick me up?” 
“Course babes, just send me your location and i’ll be right there”
“Thanks” 
You send off a pin on the map of where you are before you open up Eddie's text chat again. 
Roommate  🙄
I’m on 86th outside ABE but Robin is gonna come pick me up and were going to hers i think
Ur going to robins?
You dont want me to come pick you up?
I’m heading back to the apartment i can just pick up the van and go find u
Yeah I’m sure, I’m sorry baby but I just need some time to think before I talk about it
Got alot going on in my head, just need to figure it out first yk?
I promise I’m ok, were ok, i love you so much ok?
Ok princess, just update me yeah?
Yeah i will
You think maybe you could switch your live  location on snap or something? Or share it for like an hour? Just until youre at Robins
I just wanna know youre ok, itll give me peace of mind 
Ok 
*You started sharing live location*
Thank you baby, I love you so much❤️
I love you too ❤️
Robin came to pick you up within 15 minutes, letting you rant about your feelings the car ride home and offered to sit with you while you took a bath. She helped you come to the realisation that despite Eddie's flaws you couldn't help but love him indefinitely after the past two years where your bond had grown stronger than either you or Eddie had ever experienced with someone else. Although with minimal contact throughout the evening you finally managed to make sense of all the feelings, deciding what you needed was a proper conversation about the situation you had landed yourself in and probably a little time with some space in between you to mull over whatever the outcome of the discussion would be.  Texting Eddie you fell asleep content on Robin's couch. The soft worn green pillows enveloping you in a warm hug along with the teddy fleece blanket over the pair of forgotten sweats you'd left at Robin’s helping you drift off with ease. 
Thanks to the cancelled work trip you got the luxury of relaxing on monday, rolling out of bed -or couch more accurately- with a slight tinge in your back. Stretching with a loud yawn you unplugged your phone and wandered over to the bathroom, plopping down on the toilet to catch up with your missed notifications. The time read 10.43 am thanks to the daily alarm you switched off the day before. 
Roommate  🙄 4h ago
Hi sweetheart, just on my way to work but  wanted to say good morning  ❤️ more
Penis hater 🍆 2h ago
Saw you were still asleep so didnt want  to wake you, going to work now, help more
Snapchat
Mommy Steve sent you a snap
Stonerboy sent you a snap
Google maps 39 min ago
You stopped sharing location with  [email protected]
A few other random notifications took up the space on your screen before you opened up your phone, responding to Eddie first you wrote;
Roommate  🙄
Ok goodnight honey, sleep well, i love you
Good night ❤️hope you can sleep  without me haha
You know damn well I can't 🙄
Today 6.32
Hi sweetheart, just on my way to work but wanted to say good morning  ❤️ I love you so so much, I’m assuming since the trip was cancelled you get  today off anyway? Either way have a good day, will you be sleeping at home tonight?... I miss you x
Good morning <3 yeah got the  day off, just woke up, yeah i’ll be at home 2night, when do you get off? 
Think its good we have that talk  sooner rather than later
Knowing he was probably busy with his heavy workload at the auto shop you opened up Robins text and responded to that too;
Penis hater 🍆
Gtg, meeting starting
Aight see ya loser!
Bye assface!
Today 8.27
Saw you were still asleep so didnt want to wake you, at work now, help yourself to anything in the fridge but theres leftover pizza if you want that, house keys  are on the kitchen table, just post them through the letterbox when you leave dickhead ❤️❤️❤️
Thank u sm for letting me sleep here, rly robs i appreciate it. Will do!
No probs, always a pleasure to blast out my eardums to cover up your snoring when I’m trying to sleep
Excuse me bitch, I do not snore, if anything your whining and thrashing around in bed woke ME up!
Making me sound like Tina Belcher when you say that… 
That was in fact the intended effect
🖕whatever bro gtg, Steves gonna beat my ass if i extend my toilet break past 30 min
You know a normal toilet break is 5 min right??
Fuck off
Robin answered within seconds of your text, taking the first of many useless breaks to scroll her phone and annoy Steve at the coffee shop downtown. You chuckled at her last text before you began your own 30 minute session of scrolling your phone endlessly on the toilet. By the time 1pm rolled around you had munched on Robin's leftovers, cleaned up the couch, and answered some emails from work, hopping on an IndyGo bus and trampling up the stairs in the early afternoon. 
You had left the change of clothes in Robin's hamper to be left till the next time you crashed at her place and were aching to get out of yesterday's attire the second you stepped through the door. You felt relieved as the newly found state of the apartment greeted you, slightly heartwarmed too but quickly dismissed, your stubbornness not letting you appreciate the fact that Eddie had done a basic human task. The rest of the day was spent in relaxation, despite the bath you had yesterday you felt the opportunity for a selfcare spa day on your day off was too good to pass up. Eddie had texted you here and there throughout the day regretfully telling you he had to work through lunch and couldn't make a phone call but that he would be home latest 6 pm. You did feel regretful however when you thought of your words last night, or more specifically Eddie's words and your dismissal of them. His work had been really hectic recently. The neighbouring venue The Two Brothers Auto Shop had lacked customers over the summer and had been forced to shut down. Their regular customers had found their way over to Safe Haven Automotive where Eddie was employed and Eddie's workload had been almost doubled and it was undoubtedly taking a toll on him. 
You decided you would apologise later. 
-
A heavy sigh escaped your boyfriend's lips as he stepped over the threshold to your shared home, immediately dropping his bags on the floor and stretching his back, joints popping audibly with the movement. Upon hearing his arrival you sauntered out of the bedroom, with a shy and admittedly slightly awkward smile, his face broke into a wide sunshine smile as his gaze met yours “Hi” he bent down to unlace his boots as you leaned up against the kitchen island next to him, “Hi” your voice was soft when he straightened up again. Wanting to make sure there was no awkward tension you leaned up and pecked him on the lips, it was best if you were on moderately good terms, you hadn't had such a big fight with Eddie before, only the occasional argument, so the concept of having to talk the whole thing through was new to you. You were adamant on it going well and making sure the environment was relatively calm was the best way at making sure it went over smoothly. 
“Just gonna go have a shower and then we can talk yeah? I brought poké bowls” he picked up the paper bag from next to his bag as you nodded, beginning to unpack all the items as he made his way to the bathroom. Not long after he was freshly showered and changed, damp hair cascading over his shoulders as he sat down on the opposite side of the couch. Despite the topic of the evening you allowed yourself to admire his sleek hips leading down to a pair of grey sweatpants, scanning the tattoos littered over his torso in adoration and smiling as you inspected his face. Relaxed and slack, neutral with no tug of his plush pink lips, beads of water running down his forehead threatening to collect in the lush lashes of what you so lovingly liked to call his ‘baby cow eyes’. 
Once he was sat with an ankle pushed under his thigh connecting to the food limp on the floor with his can of san pellegrino opened on the table and a cardboard bowl of cool rice, salmon and an assortment of vegetables you began. “So, first and foremost I would like to apologise” Eddie hummed to assure you he was listening as he took a large spoonful of the summery goodness. “I’m sorry for shouting and storming off, I didn't mean to worry you, I was just like in panic mode or something. And I’m really sorry for some of the things I said” he swallowed down a gulp of his drink while you selected a mixture of chilli mayonnaise coated tofu, avocado and rice. Bringing it to your mouth with the supplied pair of chopsticks, it would always be funny to you how Eddie struggled and became frustrated with the pair of wooden sticks and opting for a spoon instead. 
“Ok well thank you sweetheart, I too would like to apologise, I really didn't mean to raise my voice or to invalidate your feelings,  jesus why does this sound so formal? Anyway, I promise I didn't plan for you to come home to all that or the mess, I had planned on cleaning up after work today. But I guess that's not much better cuz’ as you said, it shouldn't really have been that bad in the first place..” you could sense the strain in his voice at admitting his ultimately largest flaw, but you were grateful he did and that he put an effort into resolving this. Although you had a sneaking suspicion he either practised what he was going to say beforehand or hand a secondary source on how to address you. 
“About that, I think we both know what we did wrong, and maybe how to go about it differently in the future, yeah I do not like how formal this sounds either” the laugh that rumbled your chest eased a weight on Eddie's shoulders as well as invited him to join. “But I do think it's something that would be good on working on… and not just for my sake but yours too, like partly I don't really want to do most of the work around here-” “And you wont! I promise” you smiled at Eddie's interruption “but you're also kind of… scatterbrained? And I think maybe working on routines could benefit you. You know like having all your clothes and things ready in the morning, that way you don't have to run up and down from the parking lot because you forgot your keycard or your phone or something.”
Eddie hummed in acknowledgement of your words, it was clear he was thinking over the idea “I mean I could try, it's just you know difficult, I can’t keep track of everything and I forget and I think if I start a new routine I’m gonna forget that too.” There was a trace of shame in his tone as he accepted yet another one of his flaws. “Ok well first off, you need a calendar, either a paper one or your phone, I think your phone would be better though because that way its almost always on you and you can write down important dates like meetings the second you hear about them” he nodded as he listened to your suggestions “Secondly, building up routines like laying out your clothes and keys and stuff the evening before, or packing your bag” 
He frowned softly in between bites of his food, “Yeah but how am I even going to manage to stick to them long enough that they become the regular” this conversation seemed to be going much better than you had anticipated. You had of course hoped for the best but still wanted to be prepared in case another fight broke out but Eddie was properly listening to you, nevermind apologising but seemed willing to do something to change for the better. 
You smirked at him slightly evilly as you took another mouthful, “So, remember what I said last night” you had said a lot of things last night “About the sex?” a slight sneer spread over Eddie's features as he realised you might be considering sticking to your word. He was right. “So Robin had this idea that if we did that, it might give you some incentive.” he couldn't help the low groan of annoyance “Ok believe me, I am not just in this for the sex, but really?..” 
“I know you're not” you smiled happily, you knew that even before you’d said it “But it might motivate you to stick to your routines until, like you said, they become regular. Just until you become used to it” his head rolled back on his shoulders, trying but failing to suppress a whine, he didn't want your actual idea of him to be a man-child. You giggled softly at his reaction, there was indescribable pride settling in your shoulders at the desperation of wanting to be with you. “Ok well how long’s that gonna take?” he sat up again, placing his food down onto the table and taking another large gulp of the carbonated drink. 
“I dunno, we’ll just have to see I guess, maybe a few weeks?” you shrugged, “Weeks?!” his wide eyed stare caused for a burst of laughter from you, struggling to keep your food in your mouth, “It's up to you, how quickly you learn and how motivated you are to actually do this” 
“Oh i’m very fucking motivated”
“So you’ll do it?” 
“I will, on one condition”
“I’m listening” 
“I still get to kiss and hold you”
A wide smile cut over your face and you nodded “Ok deal”. The rest of the evening was spent eating your delicious meal and both going over arrangements as well as talking through feelings and solutions. It had been weighing on you ever since the original apology, you weren't sure if you wanted to address it or even accept it but judging by the honesty and will Eddie shared to improve you decided it was best to communicate about his too. 
“Ok so there was one thing I wanted to kind of talk about too” his hand reached for the remote control and paused the display of Rick and Morty on the old TV screen, looking down at the crown of your head where you sat leaned on his legs crossed at the calves, your back against his chest and head resting on his shoulder. “It doesn't really have much to do with you, more myself, but I dunno I thought it would be good for you to know or something” 
“I’m listening” he placed a kiss to your hair, inhaling the scent of the various products embedded in the fibres of each strand from your bath. “Well I don't mean this as any like attack on you or that I have any specific feelings towards you specifically about it” he had no idea what you were on about as his cheek preplaced his lips on your head, but he trusted you would explain. “I got kind of… scared… yesterday, when you got angry, and like I know i got angry too don't get me wrong” his cheek left you and in response you turned your head to face him, “It's just like, I know you would never you know do anything like that, or at least I hope” you chose to ignore the expression resting on his features and push through “But like you're still a man, and no matter how strong I am or whatever, men can still, or well they're capable… of… you know, doing quite alot” 
A sad pout tugged at his lips as he looked down at you “Baby, I am so sorry, I would never do anything like that but I should have thought about like the whole picture, with your past and all and yeah just the fact that I’m, yeah a man” the lamp next to the couch glinting in his eye made his expression all the more sincere, you smiled softly, “Thank you, I just thought you should know” the moment was so tender in the dim lighting of the room and nightfall fell behind the closed curtains of the windows, nothing more than a whisper needed to break the magical spell on Indianapolis. “Thank you for telling me baby” his kiss was equally as soft on your lips as his voice had been to your ears. 
Before pressing the button on the remote again you pointed at him “But just know if you ever hit me, I will be kicking you in the balls and reaching for my taser” Eddie chuckled as he grinned “A fair punishment” 
11 pm rolled around, punctuated by a wide yawn, you huffed a laugh as Eddie's pointer finger quickly prodded at the back of your throat, one of his regular habits he had when he saw you yawn. “Alright, I gotta be up at 5 tomorrow so I’m gonna head to bed” you stretched as you sat up, disgruntled by the loss of Eddie's warm embrace, “When do you start tomorrow?” he asked, copying your movements before gathering what was left of your meal. Your heart squeezed as you watched Eddie already picking up his new habit of cleaning up around the house, following him into the open kitchen you poured yourself a glass of water as Eddie placed the leftovers in the fridge and the rest in the trash. 
“Uh 7” you thought as he manoeuvred around you, “Alright well if you want I can drive you, just gonna have to stay later at work”
 “What? No that's ok, I’ll just take the bus”
“You sure? I don't mind taking you” 
“When would you be leaving otherwise?”
“Uh probably like today so 6.30”
“You texted me while driving??”
He closed the fridge and made his way to stand in front of you, hands resting loosely on your hips just below the arm you had crossed over your waist, the other holding the glass to your chest. “No I was in traffic” he chuckled before bending down to press a kiss to your lips. “Oh ok” you shrugged as he pulled away, raising your voice while you walked over to the bedroom to place your water down onto the bedside table “So when would you be home?”
“If I work through lunch hopefully 6 otherwise 7ish” he called from the bathroom, lathering up creamy toothpaste onto his brush. “Jesus christ hopefully this whole thing will die down soon” you pouted in sympathy as you slid in next to him, he shrugged “Eh, least I’m making some more money. Gonna buy you something pretty” he grinned before beginning his nightly routine. 
You rolled your eyes playfully, he'd already gotten the ‘I don't need you to buy me anything’ talk and was well used to it by now. “Ok well would you mind staying later if i came over for lunch?” you smiled. A gargled response came from around the green plastic dangling from his mouth while some white foam escaped his lips and dribbled down his smile line, you laughed at the view “Just answer later” your own response was muffled but only slightly as you spoke. 
He nodded and continued his vigorous attack on his teeth, something you often frowned upon telling him he'd damage his gums if he continued that way. He knew exactly what you were thinking when he was shot a disapproving glare through the mirror, he grinned wildly around his toothbrush, prompting even more foam to coat his chin, but to your satisfaction he slowed his movements to a gentle appropriate pace. 
On instinct you shot a hand out to hold his hair out of his face as he spat out the residue and washed out his mouth. Leaning over in front of you he rubbed his face on the towel to dry his face off, you almost toppled over backwards from the steep bend but Eddie was already at your rescue with an arm around your back. He slid back into his place and wrapped both arms around you, resting his chin on your shoulder and watching your reflection in the mirror. “Lunch sounds good but I’m not letting you take the bus all the way across town, I’ll just pick something up along the way and we can sit in the breakroom” he placed a gentle kiss to your cheek before standing up to let you repeat Eddies actions of spitting, rinsing and drying. 
“Mm mm” you shook your head “Not the breakroom, we can just sit in my office” you answered Eddies look of question as you smoothed cool moisturiser over your face, “I can't be bothered listening to Brenda recount every single detail of the same trip we were both on” Eddie chuckled, warmth spreading through his body at the adorable wrinkle of your nose in disgust, “I mean seriously, ‘Oh my god did you hear Clarence joke? It was sooooo funny!’ like yes bro I was there, in the room. She’s recounting every single detail of her room, despite the fact that they’re all fucking identical, I swear soon she’ll be telling me about her shits in grave detail” the hearty laugh you witnessed in the mirror and felt against your shoulderblades had a genuinely happy smile dazzling your face. His happiness rubbed off on you. 
“Alright, no breakroom, got it” he chuckled and pulled away squeezing your asscheek before making his way out the door “Ap ap ap” your tsk had him turning around in confusion “No touching” you smirked, “What you said I could hold you?”
“Yeah hold me, not touch my ass, or boobs for that matter, and definitely no thighs unless its 100% wholesome”
“What, that was wholesome!” 
“Mmmmn was it?” he rolled his eyes before continuing his way towards the bedroom. Soon enough you joined him to see him pull his sweatpants off, “You know I was thinking” he looked up to meet your gaze, once again the small subtle action of him trying had your heart squeezing, he folded his sweatpants up and tossed them in a drawer in the closet so casually it amazed you he wasn't making a show of it to gain some praise. “Maybe you should sleep on the couch, what with the incentive and all” 
“What?” his face fell as he turned, “Yeah, more distance ya’ know?” his silence told you everything, “I’m kidding!” you laughed as he let out a loud sigh in relief. 
You laid notice to the fact that Eddie was folding up his coveralls, tossing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt next to the pile of various daily trinkets. The small action meant so much to you, it proved he was actually trying and it made you ache in all the best ways. Soon enough you were snuggled up under the covers with your head on his chest and dozing off.
Tuesday morning was much less stressful than any normal one and you sat on the bus listening to Eddie rant on the phone how big the difference had been after preparing the night before, you were completely sure he was sucking up a little bit but you let him go on before saying a goodbye when you got off the bus and made your way over to your office. You were also eternally grateful for his timely arrival just as Brenda made her way over to you with her lunchbox, “Oh I’m so sorry Brenda, Eddies here but I’ll see you later yeah?” ok maybe you were known as slightly bitchy or more accurately a complete bitch in the office but you really weren't in the mood to make idle conversation with the middle aged californian lady for a whole hour. 
“Hia!” you greeted with shining warmth as Eddie passed the front desk, subway bag in hand and an equally bright smile on his face. He pecked you on the lips before following you to your office, pulling his phone out to show the near two hour time slot in his calendar that read lunch with my beautiful girlfriend. You laughed as he explained he had already started with his work on a calendar. 
You managed to make it five minutes before a knock sounded at the door, answered with your breezy ‘come in!’ Michael frowned in confusion at your tone before spotting Eddie on the other side of your desk, “Oh hey Ed, uh here's those spreadsheets you asked for” he handed you a folder and waited patiently while you did a once over of the contents, smiling when he was dismissed. 
The first interaction of your disruptions was much cheerier than the other 6 who filtered into your office to ask for advice, hand over assignments and intending to go over the statistics of paid leave. “Jesus” Eddie marvelled once the door closed “They do this all the time?” he took the last bite of his sandwich before crumpling up the paper and tossing it into the bag. “Yup, all the time” you sighed in exasperation. “How the fuck do you get any work done?” he frowned, but softened into delight as he bit into his chocolate chip cookie. 
“I stay late” you shrugged, “Why do you think I work every other saturday and work 7 to 8 or 10pm? Or well 11” the self deprecating laugh you let out had Eddie's face painted in concern and sympathy while a tinge of annoyance showed in his eyes. “Can't you just like put up a sign saying do not disturb?” you shrugged again, taking a ship of your drink “I guess”
“I really think you should” 
Lunch passed and after what felt like an eternity you were jumping out of your skin at the sound of a loud honk next to you on the sidewalk. “Jesus fucking christ!” you shrieked when you saw Eddie's wide grin peep through the rolled down window as he leant over the centre console. He saved you from a 10 minute walk from the bus stop while chatting to you about your day. 
“We really have to stop getting takeout so much” you moaned through a mouthful of butter masala, the burst of flavours sending rhythmic waves of delight and calm through your body. “I know, but neither of us have the energy to cook so-” he shrugged “takeout it is”. 
He had skipped his ritual shower and opted for washing his hands before digging in but soon he was shucking his jeans off and scrolling his phone on the toilet. You knew instantly where the text was coming from when it came through, it was comical to see the three notifications on your phone alerting you that E.Munster had liked your instagram posts and then a grey rectangle at the top of your screen; 
Roommate  🙄 now
So I know we said no touching but like… 
Can I touch myself?...
Your laughter echoed throughout the apartment while you shouted “Nope!” your laughter doubled in volume when you heard a loud groan from the bathroom. 
Roommate  🙄
But I’m so horny….
Arent you literally on the toilet?
Not anymore, I'm about to have a shower
Ah well sorry baby, nooooope
Mean 
HAHAHAHAHAHA
You know, I feel like you posted that bikini pic on purpose
Who knows
What?
Are you jerking off????
Eddie!
No! 
Belive it or not I am very keen on making this process as short as possible
Ur just a tease
Thats all 
Good, yeah its fun, you . shouldnt try it tho
Hahaha
Maybe I should 
No, no thats ok
Once again you were snuggled up with Eddie in bed, revelling in the embrace of apple scented shampoo, charcoal body wash and something so uniquely Eddie. 
To your pleasure, your day had been peacefully quiet for the first time in a month, with multiple of your staff sat in meetings throughout the day you managed to get through your workload plus some extra missed invoices and orders and even got a head start on an upcoming project. Being an accountant director for Riley Hospital wasn't always the easiest or simplest job but it had its moments. Even more so when you found the receptionist Stephanie had refilled the French roast capsules for the coffee machine and made a spread of various pastries in the breakroom. You were on a high, having a great day, topping off the icing on the cake with the mouthwatering left overs from your dinner the night before. Sometimes, just sometimes, everything in life could work out and it left you with a bright smile on your lips as you left the building and made your way over to the bus. 
The glee seemed to radiate off you as Eddie broke into a happy grin, skin stretching taught over his muscles and leaving his cheeks aching when he was greeted by in his opinion ‘absolute shit music’ bouncing around the room from the google nest in the corner of the living room with you shaking your hips from side to side, the occasional attempt at twerking while you stirred the creme fraiche, bell pepper and halloumi pasta sauce in a pan. 
After a soothing shower nearly screaming along with the music of your ‘Main Girl’ playlist you had changed into a pair of black skin tight booty shorts framing your curves under an oversized Rammstein t-shirt draped over your torso, pulled down at the front to the tips of your thighs, the hem tucked in at the back of your shorts giving Eddie a delicious view while you moved about.
You screamed in horror jumping 3 feet into the air when you heard Eddies cheery “Hey” he burst out laughing as you clutched your chest in an attempt to even your breathing. While he untied his boots you made your way over to the couch to turn Ayesha Erotica’s Hands Up! down to a more respectable volume. “You seem to be in a good mood” he commented as he began washing his hands in the kitchen sink, “I am” you grinned while going back to your cooking “Budgeting and accounting were in meetings all day so I only had to deal with some of the payroll staff” you told him as he dried his hands and began emptying his pockets onto the kitchen island. “That's great” you couldn't see his smile but you didn't have to, it was for himself, his own quiet glory in your victory, happy and relieved for you. 
“Oh and guess what!” you turned to face him “I had so much free time today I caught up on everything!” Eddie gaped in shock and pride “And and and! I even got started with the Danaher project so guess who doesn't have to work on saturday!” you squealed while shimmying your shoulders in a victory dance. Eddie laughed as he noticed the natural shape of your boobs sway from side to side with the movement before looking you in the eye “That's awesome!” you proudly nodded at him with a chirpy “mhm!” 
“So we're celebrating with trash music?” he grinned as his hands slithered over your hips to hold at your waist, “Hm I was in a mood” you shrugged and stretched to peck his lips. “Well alright then, Steve sent some texts so I’m just gonna check them and then go wash my face, Imma’ shower after dinner” you nodded and turned back to the food while Eddie circled the kitchen island and bent over to rest his elbows on the marble countertop with his phone in his hands. 
He lied, Steve hadn't texted, in fact he hasn't talked to Steve since yesterday. He was undoubtedly excited about your small victory but the devil on his shoulder controlling part of his brain took over. He just needed one good luck at you before he scuttled off. He was going to be true to his word, no doubt about it, but he didn't mind getting a second to appreciate your figure as you swayed from side to side after instructing Google to turn the volume up. 
When he felt he’d gotten what he searched for he tore his eyes away from you before his body had a chance to act and prove this little celibacy period to be much harder than it already was. He made his way to the bathroom going through his regular motions of de-stressing from work. 
“So, just got a text from Gareth, shit that looks so good” he awed as he caught an eye on the table where you were sat scrolling on your phone. In reality he wasn't sure if he was talking about you or the pasta perfectly plated up on green ceramic, but it didn't matter because you smiled and that was enough to have him matching. “Baby thank you so much for cooking, it looks amazing” you smirked proudly as you put your phone down and began eating. “No problem, came home at 6 today so I had time” the casualness in your voice was betrayed by your excited face, almost saying can you believe that?! He chuckled before shaking his head as if to remember something “Right so anyway, Gareth can't make it to Hellfire tomorrow so were just gonna skip it this week” he explained as he too began digging in. 
The obnoxious moan he let out once the pasta came into contact with his mouth had you almost snorting out your gulp of coke. “Ok cool” you continued after swallowing the liquid back down, “You got any other plans for saturday then?” 
“Well I was thinking we could do something, are you busy?”
“Oh yeah that sounds great, I mean not much, I figured since I'm free I was gonna catch up on some chores so I was planning on going to Circle Centre around noon. I need a new skirt for work, something more casual, I found a super cute denim one at Lucky Brand and stockings, a new pair of sneakers from Journeys cuz’ mine are worn down” you began counting on your fingers “I wanna go check out Hot Topic, top up on some stuff at Bath and Bodyworks, do a foodshop, and a few other bits and bobs” Eddies jaw was slack and eyes wide as he gaped at you slightly, “Oh so not much then?” he shrugged jokingly, you grinned “You can come with me, we’ll get lunch and catch a movie” 
“Sure. Were you actually planning on lugging all that back here on the bus if I would have driven over to Jeff’s?” he asked in disbelief, “Yeah” you shrugged “Figured worst case I’d just shell out for an uber” 
Eddie insisted on cleaning up after dinner even though you told him it was ok, so you spent the time on the counter talking to him about his day while he loaded the dishwasher. Finally he straightened up a few minutes after you had left to do your skincare routine in the bathroom. “Uh is it okay if I shower?..” he cautioned as he peeped through the door, “Yeah why wouldn't it be?” you frowned “Cuz’ of the incentive or whatever” 
“Oh, yeah no it's fine, I’m not the one who needs the incentive so technically I can see you naked but you can’t see me” an evil smirk was directed towards him in the mirror as he shuffled past you into the small space, dropping a pair of clean boxers and his usual sweats onto the edge of the counter. He gave you a playful grimace of annoyance before pulling at the neck of his t-shirt, you thought nothing of it as he tossed it onto the toilet lid, instead focusing on making sure the mixture of serum on your face didn't drip too far. 
Your hand stopped mid motion as you rubbed it into your skin, your jaw dropped slightly as Eddie pulled his jeans and boxers down his thighs. It had always amazed you how Eddie still managed to appear big without even being hard, and it was definitely hitting you right between the thighs as you watched him in the mirror. Almost like a gut punch but instead it was.. A pussy punch?... Eddie wasn’t even a shower, he was a grower for sure, fucking enormous when he was actually aroused. It had taken you more than a normal amount of time to get used to him when you first started dating. 
He stepped out of the denim fabric and dropped them onto the t-shirt. You got the chance to admire him completely, thick muscly thighs covered in a light pattern of hair down to his equally muscly calves. A thick lump formed in your throat and you swallowed it dryly as he stood back up from pulling his socks off. Tattoos painted perfectly into his skin all along his sleek figure, only the beginning of your own private gallery destined to show up later in life. You eyed the shape of his hips, that v-muscle that always had your mouth watering, the soft trace of his abs on his abdomen, his shapely chest that you loved running your hands over. Each dent of where his muscles and joints formed, every single freckle and mole that has one time or another been kissed by you, running all the way from his shoulders to his wrists to match the smattering on his face. 
And god his face, that sharp yet somehow soft jaw that led down to his thick neck, his bulbous nose you not only enjoyed the feeling of pecking but when it tickled your clit as he tongued your hole with your thighs circling his head. Those soft almond eyes who had a tendency to shift between chocolate, gold and deep onyx in the right light, the same eyes that were shamelessly raking down your figure as of this moment. No inkling at your own ogling, you felt the urge to copy Eddie's movements as he shook his head to rid his thoughts. 
“Uh you're… dripping into the sink” he pointed vaguely to the drop of red solution on the white ceramic, “Oh” you mentally shook your head instead and quickly brought both hands up to your face to smear the product into your skin. Behind you Eddie turned and stepped into the shower pulling the curtain closed almost all the way, the sound of cold water hitting the equally cold floor of the tub was your que to hurry the fuck up before your knees buckled. 
The first thought that entered your head when you sat down on your side of the bed was about Eddie from the good lock you'd gotten of him before you left, he was inhabiting every corner of your mind. The shape of his back and the slope of his spine that you would have loved to run your fingers along. The best part? The shape of his ass as he leaned back to soak his face in the stream of water. 
Technically, technically the incentive rule didn’t apply to you. You could… take advantage of the time alone while Eddie was in the shower… but no it wasn't fair, if he had to do it you had to do it, you'd just have to force those dirty thoughts out of your head. But fuck was it hard to refrain from thinking about those broad palms gliding over the skin of your thighs, grasping desperately at your tits, your hips, your ass. Your own hands snaking through his curls, tugging harshly as his lips wrapped around your clit and he did one of his moves that always left you breathless and writhing, sucking harshly at your nub while his tongue worked up and down behind his lips. The feeling of his thighs pressing at your own, one arm on the mattress to prop himself up while the other led his cock to your opening, wrapping around your waist as you slowly felt his big, fat head, dribbling precome pressing at your entrance, and force himself into you. That delicious fucking feeling when the ridge of his head connecting to his shaft caught at the skin surrounding your sopping wet hole, suctioning him in before he bottomed out with an unbelievable loud groan. It didn't matter how many times you’d had sex, he would always sound as if he’d gone 50 years without a taste and finally got one. 
A tingle fluttered through your legs, its nest sitting low in your belly, tickling everything surrounding cunt. You managed to snap out of it just as you hear the pitter patter of water droplets slow to a halt, you took a deep grounding breath, you could do this, you just had to keep your mind on other things. This was a good idea right? Robin hadn't been off her rocker when she suggested it, right? 
No this was right, this was good, it was helping Eddie set routines for himself and it would make your life easier. Cleaning had always come as an automatic response to you, it was therapeutic to sort through random collections of things, to do laundry, wipe down every surface but with the added stress of your less than a year old promotion it had slowly crept up to being too much. Sneaking its way to push you over the edge and have a mental breakdown, probably more serious and destructive than the one a few days ago. Having Eddie helping out was going to be good, it might even help release only a tiny bit of tension in your shoulders through the workday. 
You shouldn't take it for granted, your life had imploded and shattered every single piece of you but you had built yourself back up slowly, gotten your shit together and taken nightly college classes while bussing tables and gotten yourself a degree. A degree that landed you a steady job and an even cushier promotion within less than two years, something not a lot of people could say they had managed. You were eternally grateful and privately very proud of yourself for not letting the world beat down on you and crush you to a pulp like it had so many other people. 
But you were similar to the rest of the public in the same way that work took it out of everyone. You could admit that begin a high ranking boss at the age of 25 was undoubtedly hard but you would never admit that sometimes it was just too fucking hard. There were so many stressful things added to the whirlwind of your mind but maybe not worrying about having to pick up toilet paper on your way home from work at 10 pm or obsessing over how to schedule cleaning the bathroom into your hectic day might make the whirlwind slow, maybe only slightly but it would still be an improvement. 
So no you weren't going to acknowledge those scenarios and feed into them, you were going to let the decision stay firmly planted in place. You could wait, you had gone 19 years without having to qualm those ideas and you sure as hell could go a few weeks, maybe months if you really set your mind to it. But you really, really hoped Eddie would get his shit together in time and not let it go that far. 
To distract yourself you decided changing into a loose threadbare tank top and baggy shorts and then scrolling Tiktok was the best suppressor of those not so innocent ideas. Wrapped up in the robotic voice of a reddit story while glued to the minecraft parkour on the bottom Eddie came into view in the doorframe. Arms stretched above his head he wrung his hair through the orange towel, squeezing out the access water before patting the droplets on his shoulders away. Every single small detail you noticed, when he hung his towel next to yours on the hooks on the back of the door instead of dropping it on the floor, when he tossed his previously worn clothes on the bed and began syphoning through them, picking out everything but his jeans and tossing them into the clothes hamper, folding the pants up and dropping them onto the already folded coveralls on the floor instead of leaving everything in a heap by his bedside table. How he disappeared into the kitchen to collect his pocket trinkets and collected them on the floor next to his work clothes and how he retrieved a fresh change from the closet to join the other clothes on the floor. 
“So what are we watching?” he leaned over to catch a glimpse of your screen “God those videos are always such bullshit” he chuckled as he dropped down onto the mattress, copying your stance and curling in on his side, palms pressed together under his cheek. “Mjeh good entertainment” you shrugged, locking your phone and tossing it on the space of pillow between you. He stretched forward and placed a peck on your lips before pulling back and gazing over your features. 
You never understood his thought process but he always insisted you were beautiful, even with your face in a light shine from the oily products and otherwise bare, with your pimple patches littered across your irritated skin, with your soon to be put in mouth guard. He always adored you, every single part of you, no matter good or bad and you in turn adored him for it as well as simply adored him for him and his own quirks, just as you were doing now. 
A hand reached out and you twisted one of his loose curls around your soft finger, “Always loved your curls” you whispered with a gentle smile, “Yeah? Shame you can only adore them in the mornings before they somehow just frizz during the day” he rolled his eyes in annoyance. “I told you to use curl cream babe, I even got you one” you lovingly sighed “Yeah well it's too much work if I gotta do it every single day” he frowned as you pulled away from him and dragged yourself out of the bed. He didn't get an answer to your sudden disappearance till he turned around and saw you rushing back with a white and pink tub and a hair brush in your hands. 
“Sit up” you instructed as you pulled his towel down and walked up to stand between his legs as he sat up at the edge of the bed, his hands instinctively went to touch your thighs, remembering last minute and opting to graze the backs of your calves. “You can touch my thighs” you giggled and his hands eagerly found the backs of your thighs as you draped the towel around his shoulders. 
It went unbeknownst to you how adamant Eddie was on keeping his eyes on yours but ultimately failed as his gaze travelled to your boobs, the position he was sat in and the fact that your old t-shirt was sagging with age did not play in his favour like it usually would. Your tits were right in his face as you led the brush through his wet strands, his hold on your thighs tightened immensely, “Is that wholesome?” you tutted while keeping your attention on his hair. He tore his gaze away from you and grinned devilishly “Yup” he popped the ‘p’ while you rolled your eyes. 
Shutting his eyes was a better idea, now this time the position he was in did play in his favour, the feeling of your hands working the gel through his hair soothed him and he relished in the tender moment. Humming with pleasure as you began scrunching his hair to form curls. “You know if you just used a claw clip instead it wouldn't be straightening your hair out and tugging on it like a hair tie does” he frowned slightly disgusted as he opened his eyes to look up a you, “Yeah sorry babe I’m willing to do a lot for you but a girly ass clip in my hair is not one of them” frowning you responded “It's not girly” “Well it's not metal. Name one metalhead or rockstar who wears a claw clip” his eyebrows raised at your silence “Exactly” 
“Whatever” you muttered but there was no trace of unamusement in your tone as you picked the tub up, holding it over his head you began placing it back on again but the sticky residue on your hands forced the lid out of your grasp and behind Eddies back, muttering a ‘shit’ you wiped your hands on Eddies towel covered shoulders before leaning forward and picking it up. 
Mind you it hadn't been intentional, simply a natural reflex but in the process your boobs squished right against Eddie's face as you caught hold of the pink plastic. You thought nothing of it as you screwed the top shut but Eddie did. Oh he definitely did, a deep red blush crept up onto his pale face as his eyes widened in horror. 
Something so simple, so small, literally accidental had Eddie's depraved body reacting in no time, it had only been 6 days since he last got to touch you in any sexual way (3 days of mock celibacy) but blood was rushing down south faster than he could say ‘boobs’. “Alright, I wanna watch Bob’s Burgers now” you announced while placing the product down on your vanity table and hanging his towel back up. He propped himself up against the headboard “Uh yeah ok” his voice was hoarse and strained as he spoke, prompting you to turn in concern while picking up his laptop. “You okay?” 
He cleared his throat and slumped in relief when his voice came out even “Yeah fine” panic rang through his body as he watched you climb up in front of him, intending to settle between his thighs. “What-what are you doing?” he stammered nervously, a confused incredulous frown was passed his way “Sitting down?” before he had a chance to protest you were sat upright between his thighs pressing your pointer finger to the touch ID of his macbook. 
Once you’d opened up a new tab and found the show you leaned back against his chest, he cringed while his whole body tensed “Are you hard?...” he instantly went into defence mode “In my defence, you shoved your tits in my face! Like right in my face” you laughed heartily as the theme song began to play “What these old things?” two hands squishing your tits together with a jiggle had a strained mixture between a whine, a cough and a laugh tumbling from his lips. 
“Okay seriously how are you still hard?” one episode had passed and you were still feeling the press of his hard-on at your back, “Do you even realise how you're sat right now?” 
“No?”
“No? Well let me paint you a mental picture, you're leaned against me, on my dick mind you and giving me the perfect view down your top”
With an eye roll you pulled your tank up “Happy?”
“Not really, I miss them” 
By the end of the night you were giggling at the banter passed between you and snuggled up to him again. 
– 
With each passing day Eddie's problems both became better and so much worse, he was getting used to his new routines and the calendar really was working wonders for him, he knew exactly when and what cars he was supposed to be working on and what meetings he had. It allowed him a better view of his day and even cut a whole useless hour off his work day! Both of you were eternally pleased and happily discussing it over lunch at the mall on the saturday. 
What he didn’t bring up however was that it was becoming increasingly harder to stay away from you, flouncing around in towels or minimal clothing, checking yourself in the full length mirror on the living room side of the bedroom door, twisting and turning to make sure those skin tight pencil skirts were perfect and buttoning up your blouses, swaying your hips to music while leant on the kitchen island working on whatever economy plan on thursday to ensure you could leave early on friday, stood up mind you, ass moving from side to side directly in view of Eddie on the couch. And now! Sat talking to him, excited as ever, purely innocent with those tight fitting jeans and that scooba-neck red top.
Everywhere he looked you were there unconsciously enticing him. He almost lost it when you gave him a spin from the dressing room showcasing each item. The long denim skirt you wanted for work, the so-called ‘casual’ blouse which absence of buttons gave him a show of the press of your tits in your bra, the sheer mesh dress, that other dress that just enhanced every single beloved curve of your body and to top it all off! that stupid skull corset top that made his eyes almost pop out of his sockets when you appeared from behind the curtain. It was all too much!
“So what movie did you book?” you look up from your Taco Bell quesadilla to find him quickly un-tensioning his screwed up expression, “Uh well there wasn't much choice and Nancy kept nagging me how much you would love Barbie so i booked us two tickets for that, starts at 4.30” 
“Nancy said I would like Barbie?” you laugh, “Something about the backstory or meaning behind it I can't remember” he shrugs mindlessly picking at his nachos, “Apparently it's not like, about Barbie? I didn't really understand what she meant she was being super unclear, I think she was drunk” you chuckle and shrug “Alright, but if its a girly love story I am leaving” 
“Yeah and I will be two steps behind you” he laughs. 
As you sit enveloped in the red and black satin and leather interior of Eddies done up van the both of you rant excitedly about the movie, passing back and forth on the advertising, the attention to detail and general direction and idea of the movie. Laughing about how out of place the two of you -especially him- looked in the theatre filled with pink frills and hearts on almost every single patron. 
He manages to make it till Tuesday -a shocking 12 days- until he finally snaps. “What is that?” his eyes bulge from his spot on the bed, head propped up on an arm behind his head with his ankles crossed. Lounging in his Korn t-shirt and his regular grey sweats scrolling through Twitter (you and he both refused to call it ‘X’). You turn in the midst of shucking your skirt down your legs, stepping out of it and folding it on the bed you ask “What?” you frown confused as you peel the nylon tights off too. Deep blood red lace with elastic bands crisscrossed everywhere coming into view. “The underwear” he eyes are wide, hand gesturing to your body, phone completely forgotten. 
“Oh, well I had an interview with the vice president of Danaher today” if possible his eyes grow even wider, “I’m sorry?” you roll your eyes at the idea that popped up in his head “I wanted to wear something sexy, ap ap before you start, it was for confidence” you tut and  hold a finger out to him before beginning to unbutton your blouse. “Ah, thanks for the clarification, we would have been having a way worse situation on our hands than last sunday right now otherwise” you roll your eyes again. “Ok but why is wearing sexy underwear for confidence?” confusion shows in his face before he goes white as a ghost at the matching lacy blood red bra underneath your thin under-vest. 
He barely manages to register as you begin to explain “Well surprisingly enough you're not the only one who likes it, makes me feel sexy …” your words go in one ear and out the other as you begin busying yourself with hanging your clothes up, with your back to him his eyes rake over your figure. The soft slope of your shoulders, the shapes of your back, the meat of your hips down to the round fat of your ass, delicate lace nestled between your cheeks, your doughy thighs, down to your smooth calves and  ‘no show’ socked feet. He always used to giggle at how funny the socks looked, like ballerina slippers, not covering anything insisting they were silly when you explained they're so they don't show under your heels, he wasn't saying anything about them now, in fact they weren't even in his line of view. 
Now his throat was closing up, a stone planting heavily in the pit of his stomach and all blood draining from his brain, all rushing south at the view of you in action, body moving gracefully across the fluffy rug on the floor while talking a mile a minute about your meeting. He couldn't even find it in himself to feel guilty for not listening, the cogwheels in his brain stopped turning long before he crudely adjusted himself in his boxers, the electricity in his most vital organ powered out, he was starstruck, the only things working in his body were his eyes which were following you every move and, his dick. Within seconds he was feeling the throb and ache in his groin, desperate to touch you, touch himself, anything to just give him some sort of release. 
Everything set in motion so fast he felt as though he was experiencing motion sickness, the view of you leaning up to grab your towel ripped him violently out of his trace. “Where are you going?” your huffed amused with a soft frown “I just said I was going for a shower”. He scrambled quickly from his lounging on the bed, knocking his phone to the floor in the process but paying no mind to it as he desperately tried to come up with a reason for you to stay. “You look sexy!” he blurted it out and immediately cringed at his own inability to just be smooth. You huffed a laugh again while your expression remained the same “Thanks?” 
“Uh… uh… dinner!” could he stop just blurting things out?? Jesus christ. “Uh dinner, what-what do you want for dinner?” 
“Oh, I was thinking we could either order pizza or see what we have at home, do some rustle up, cuz’ we really gotta stop eating takeout” you laughed and -much to Eddie's pleasure- began stepping back towards him. “Yeah yeah we could order pizza” he nodded vigorously, “Really don’t wanna eat healthy do you?” the laughter had Eddie's desperation rising through the roof, the sound like music to his ears. “Nope” he felt like his skin was on fire as you stood right in front of him. 
“Alright well can you order my usual and I'll hop in the shower” his brain was working a mile a minute to prolong your stay and therefore his reciprocation of your kiss was utterly mindless as you bent down to peck him goodbye. “Or we could watch a movie?” before you had a chance to step away his arms were wrapping your thighs in a hug, almost causing you to buckle into him. “We need to eat babe” 
“No I mean instead of the shower” 
“I need a shower too” 
“No you don’t” your frown prompted his odd behaviour, he stretched up awkwardly on his feet to lift up your arm taking a whiff of your armpit he went “See? Your fine” your arm snapped back to your side as Eddie fell back down onto the bed, “Ok, what is going on?” he searched for words in the puddle of sludge that was currently his brain, clearly in thought as his eyebrows furrow in consideration. “Are you ok?” your frown prompts the sludge to just spew out of his mouth, no thought beforehand just desperate for you “Ok listen I’ve been like really good with the routine and stuff, like it's been almost two weeks and I've kept it up everyday, yeah? So-” 
You cut him off “Technically it's been 10 days” he was quick to interrupt you instead, “Either way I’ve been holding up my end of the bargain and I’ve really really tried to enforce the things you suggested and I-I think I’ve been doing really good! So like I think we should quit with the incentive because its worked and now I know what to do and I’ve improved and also like we haven’t had sex in nearly two weeks and you walking around in those work skirts and short shorts really isn’t helping because like I can’t even jerk off and I’m so fucking horny all the time because you always looks so beautiful and so fucking hot like you don’t even have to do anything and you still make me hard and I can’t do anything about it, like I can’t even let myself think about it because then I’m gonna get like actually, properly, really, really fucking hard and then- then I know I wouldn’t be able to stop myself. But like I promised you and I really want you to trust me and that was a part of the deal and its just really important to me that you-” 
“Ok jesus dude, chill, take a breath” you prompt, making a show of a big inhale as he does. “I just-” “SHHHH” you hush desperately and press a finger to his lips to stop him from rambling again. “You’ve really tried?” he nods viciously “And you promise you're going to continue with the calendar, the packing, replacing the bag when you take out the garbage, capping the toothpaste, throwing away receipts, taking your hair out the drain, drying the floor after a shower, all that?” 
“I promise.”
You eye him for a second, scanning for any insincerity in his face but you come up short, “Ok, yes we can have sex again” you smile as his face breaks out in pure excitement, just like a child promised candy “Thank god” he breathes, immediately leaning in and trailing kisses up your stomach “Wait, now?” his expression as he looks up at you is an awkward mix between complete and utter desperation, humiliation and hopeful questioning, begging for you to say yes, “I mean… only if you want to” you pout slightly at him “I gotta’ shower though” his face falls somewhat “You can shower after?” he can't decipher all the emotions coursing through him but he needs you to understand: “I don't want to pressure you, I totally understand if you need time or if you're not in the mood or whatever” 
His hands begin to rub up and down your thighs in wholesome comfort before your face finally shifts “What are you stupid?” before he has time to even open his mouth to respond your towel is dropped to the floor and you're pouncing on him. Knocking him back you straddle his thighs while desperate kisses are exchanged, the first one knocking the wind out of him. 
Arms wrap around his neck, one hand making its way through his relatively organised curls -thanks to the new routine of running curl cream through them-. His hands find purchase on your hips before one snakes its way to grab hungrily at the meat of your ass, moaning into the kiss as you shift against him. He’s quick to roll you over onto your back, your foot making contact with the bedside lamp and knocking it over violently, neither of you even flinch at the sound of breaking glass and neither of you definitely don't make an effort to pay any attention to it. His hips find comfort bracketed between yours, strong hands roam your body in ravenousness, gripping, squeezing, palming at anything he can get his hands on, the side of your ass he can reach between your body and the comforter, your thighs, your hips, your breasts, your shoulders, literally anything. 
Yearning to just get his hands on you, the spread of your thighs allows your panties to bury between your folds making the roll of Eddie's hips cause for a delicious feeling of relief to the impending ache that suddenly appeared. In all seriousness it had been there since the first day away from him, slowly building and residing in the shadows just as a hungry beast, ripping away from its nest to lavish in the face of a delectable treat. Your own specific beast's food of choice; Edward Munson. 
He pulls away from you to rip his shirt over his head, this time not giving a flying fuck about putting it in its correct place and blindly throwing it out of his way, another loud disturbance goes unnoticed by the both of you as it catches onto your jewellery stand and it tumbles to the floor. His hand is back on its rightful place on your hip while the other cups your cheek, the tender touch not in chorus with the feverish kisses laced with desire. To your short lived dismay his lips leave you but within the matter of milliseconds they’re pressing fervent kisses down the side of your neck. Each touch of his lips like hot fire stroking the thirst of the embers embedded within you. 
Desperate whimpers sound through the room when pain strikes some of his kisses, smoothing his tongue over the flecks of deep purple and red threatening to bruise. His hips find a tempestuous pace grinding against yours, his concealed cock forcing angrily at your increasingly wet cunt, his large head, which, you've admittedly thought about a lot, catches on your clit, teasing a whine from your throat at the action. 
Every harsh press of his plump lips against the skin of your chest was addicting to him, the simplicity of just feeling you flush against him was like ambrosia the gods had promised. Each roll of his hips laced with unfiltered and raw desire, not even nearing the desire of appeasing the burning fire nestled between your thighs. His hand coming down to hold onto your other hip gripping you furiously in rhythm with his other, you would no doubt have equally as harsh if not more deep bruising than the work of art on the column of your throat and descending, 10 equally dark marks would be appearing within no time, all for you to remember his desperation for the days to come. 
Panting you manage to prop yourself up on your elbows while Eddie makes his descent down your stomach, thumbs digging into your pudge just as his lips. You breathe heavily through your sentence “As much as I love this baby I wanna do it properly” all he needs to do in response is stand up to encourage you to hoist yourself up to lay your head on the soft pillows. You giggle as he places a hand on the mattress and jumps up, landing to straddle your thighs, not even catching his breath before going back to pressing his lips against yours. 
His next action has you bursting into a fit of giggles, he reluctantly pulls away from you before announcing to the room “Hey Google! Play my playlist Smexy time ooh ooh” he grins down at you, her response of playing the request forgotten with the hunch of his back as he sits back on your thighs -careful to not crush you- and captures your lips once again. 
When your hands move behind your back to unhook your bra he makes quick work of grasping onto your wrists, “Can you keep this on?” he breathes against your lips before you nod. You squeal when he rips the cups down with no caution, letting your tits spill out. If there had been any sort of breeze in the room you wouldn't have even had the chance for your newly exposed flesh to experience it before his hands are on you. 
Between a mess of sloppy, hungry kisses you manage to breathe out “Need to get my hands on you” a smaller set of hands push at his shoulders, as he sits up a heavy pant plays in your ears while you pull at his thighs, he manages to shuffle further up your legs but having no chance to settle before your fingers are dipping into the hem of his sweats and boxers. A breathy laugh prompts his own as his cock bounces up to slap his stomach, catching your chin on the way before falling back down again. The tip of his cock nudging your chin prompting you to pull away slightly. 
Too eager and with too much yearning burning the insides of your body to make a joke or even tease him with your tongue you make quick work to wrap a hand around him, pumping with the pace of your mouth which lips immediately wrap around his tip, one quick suction before swallowing down half his length. The continuous dribble of precum coats your tongue and you hum at the taste of it. The voluminous groan that rips from his chest feeds and tames the fire within you, boosting your ego as it is unrelenting. “Fuck, feels so good” he all but whimpers at the feeling of relief after a steady build of tension in his body form the past two weeks.
You moan around him at his praise but that only spurs on his salacious mix of whines and whimpers, his head falls from the weakness in his neck, all strength currently being sucked out of him, he manages to catch himself with a hand curling around the headboard, his other quickly finding your exposed breast and palming at it with dexterity. “You don't know what you do to me” the absence of oxygen in his voice has the roaring fire in your cunt threatening to burst at even the slightest touch of friction. 
The coating, hot arousal seeps from your hole allowing your folds to glide against each other as you plant one foot firmly on the bed and make work to rub your thighs together. The fabric of your panties bunching around your clit causes whines to vibrate around Eddie's cock, sending shudders through his body as he holds onto the headboard in a deathgrip. Even the hint of friction at your clit isn't enough to relieve you of your searing ache, if anything it spurs it on. The frustration at not being able to soothe the beast has you sucking and squeezing harder at his shaft, the hand rips away from your tit to plant itself against your scalp, the strength with which he holds onto your hair threatens to pull each strand out right at the root. 
It takes everything in him to pull away from you and in turn pull your stubborn ass off him, you whine defiantly at the loss of contact, looking up at him with an angry frown. “Don’t be a brat” he breathes “I cant -fuck- I wont last” you jut your chin out in an annoyed are you kidding me? as his hand pulls away from your hair to push his own away from his face. “I really do not care, we can just go again” your hand is already wrapping around the midriff of his cock, trying not to tug too hard but desperate to get him back into your mouth. “Wait wait!” he calls “Whaaaat?” you whine, hand releasing him and smoothing up and down his thighs “Please baby, just need your cum” your words have his eyes rolling to the back fo his head with a “Fucking christ” 
“Just gotta-” he trails off, replacing your hand with his around the very base of his cock, he arches his back to move his hips closer to you. A self assured, evil laugh bubbles from his chest as he lines his cock up to the bottom of your chin, admiring the view as his tip reaches just past your hairline. You make a show of rolling your eyes at his massive sexual ego, struggling to catch his gaze due to his massive part obscuring your view you voice with exasperation “Are you done?” he hums his approval, the sound giving you the all clear to very eagerly and very quickly wrap your hand around him and bring him back into your mouth. “Geez so impatient- oh FUUUUUCK” he doubles over again when he feels your fingers graze his sack. 
You hold them in your hand consciously making sure to massage more gently than the number you're doing on the rest of him. Lude slurping noises echo throughout the room as you bob back and forth trying to take him as deep as possible while still maintaining your breath. “Shiiiit” the deep whine rings louder than the shlick of spit and precum, and you take it as your que to see really how far you can go before he's pushed over the edge. You slide down slightly on the bed and open your throat up for him, forcing yourself as far towards the dark thatch of curls at his base. He actually screams when he experiences the tight press of the inside of your throat around his head, it seems the bruises you'd be bearing tomorrow wouldn’t only be on the outside. 
You reach for the hand which had previously found purchase on your shoulder, releasing him as you gag loudly, spit bubbling at the corners of your mouth, you pull off him to secure his head in the valve of your mouth, clearing your airways as you guide his hand to the back of your head. “F-fucking-” he heaves “Unreal” you press at his hand to give him the hint before taking a very deep breath and once your being forced to take him deeper again your hand grasps onto his thigh. 
It wasn't something you did a lot but then again neither was the deep deep throating so you slid your hand up to one of the globes of his ass and gave him a firm squeeze. The touch sent his hips bucking away from you on instinct, forcing his cock even deeper down into your throat. Your head hit the headboard, cushioned by his hand and allowed him to force himself so far down your throat that your nose was being tickled by the black curls at his base. God you were so glad you didnt have an upchuck reflex at the moment. “Mother fucker! SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT I’M GONNA FUCKING CUM!” you would definitely have laughed if you were able to, the volume of his voice would no doubt be disturbing multiple neighbours. 
The unfortunate thing about this position, at the moment, was that you didn't get to taste or even feel the thick, heavy, hurt spurts of cum that shot down your throat. You sensed he had completely unloaded when his cock twitched and you scrambled to force his hips away from you, he pulled away and out of you equally as fast, if not faster. As you gasped a loud inhale Eddie fell back onto the bed, panting heavily and completely out of it. Your hand clutched at your throat at the pain beginning to settle inside, with an incredibly hoarse voice you managed to heave the words “Need huuuuuuuuhhhhh water”. 
Despite every single limb in his body being completely slack and feeling like noodles and despite the fact that he was still only seeing white he registered the words and fell onto the floor as he rushed to get out of bed. Dick slowly softening he ran out of the room, awkwardly pulling up his pants and retrieved two bottles of water from the fridge, water sloshed over the floor as he unscrewed the cap in movement, spilling some over your torso as he handed it to you. Anxiety enveloped him in a bone crushing hug as he watched you chug down the whole bottle of water, already signalling for Eddie to open up the next one before you finished the first one. 
Dread joined the anxiety as you panted heavily before chugging the second one. His whole body relaxed however when you threw the bottle away and gave him a thumbs up while your head rolled forward and then back to splay you across the head of the bed. “Oh thank god” he clutched his heart as he sat down next to you, capturing your hand he rubbed soothing circles into the back of your palm “Are you ok?” 
Without opening your eyes you managed a weak “Why is your dick so fucking big?”
“Jesus Christ” he laughed at your unserious response before sobering up and gently forcing your head to face him, your eyes slowly fluttered open to find his concerned expression “Really though are you ok?” 
“Yes I’m fine” you waved him off before he wrapped both arms around you and scooted further down in the bed, holding you to his chest. “I’ll go run you a bath and call the pizza place, yeah? Or maybe soup would be better” your head pulled away from his chest, you may have taken a toll on your breathing for a while but your breathing was back to normal and besides the sting in your throat you felt perfectly fine. “Excuse me where's my earth shattering orgasm?” he frowned down at you “What?” 
“You're not gonna get that and just walk away without payment” you snarked in faux annoyance, “Are-are you sure?...”
“Equality bitch” he laughed at your smug grin, pushing gently at your shoulder to get you to lie back down, just as he was about to open his mouth you held your hand out to silence him “If you ask me one more time if I’m sure I promise you I will be sleeping at Robins tonight” he laughed and nodded “Understood” before crawling over you to press a kiss to your lips. “Two things” Eddie raised his eyebrows expectantly as he pulled away from you “Take your pants off, I don’t wanna be the only one naked here, and please skip all the foreplay I’m really fucking horny” he laughed again at your directness but obliged. 
While mindlessly getting comfortable in bed and settling against the pillows you indulged in watching the show of Eddie pulling his sweats down, once again those strong legs were all for you to mentally devour. Once he stood back up you lay notice to the twitch of his cock as his eyes raked down your figure, soft and lax on the soft cotton, skin and fat alike in relaxation in front of him, despite the previous strong orgasm his body was once again showing off his affection and arousal, this time in less of a betrayal. 
Hungry eyes found yours as he manoeuvred himself to bend your knees and sit by your feet. The aforementioned black swam in his eyes, darkened with the desire of getting to please his woman. Callused fingers smoothed up your calves to knead your doughy thighs, “Oh wait” you crunched your stomach to elevate your shoulders and unclasp the awkwardly fitted bra, sighing loudly in relief at the loss of fabric digging into your skin, all he did was grin as your breasts spilled out into their natural state and gently pried your legs open. 
His middle finger ran up the soaked lace nestled between your folds, “Hey, dickwad, I said no foreplay” he only laughed but decided to comply, moving onto his stomach he moved your panties to the side, the feeling of his finger running over your slick folds at the action had you humming in pleasure. His hands wrapped around the backs of your thighs and within no time, sweet fucking relief, finally after what seemed like forever the roaring fire was soothed to a stable flame. His warm tongue ran up your folds causing a shiver to travel throughout your body before he circled the tip over your clit. 
An unnaturally loud whimper rumbled through your throat at the action and soon enough a scrumptious mixture of broad licks, flicks and circles were directed at your clit. Eddie groaned in satisfaction at the taste of you, his grip tightening to pull you closer to his face. Breathless swares and whines were replaced with loud obscenities and near pornographic moans when he finally did what you loved the most, his lips wrapped around the sopping hood of your clit only a moment before a strong tongue flicked up and down on the unexposed skin of your hood. With two years of being head over heels for this man both Eddie and you had mastered the art of not making the sensations of his muscle raw on the bundle of nerves more pleasure than overstimulation, however the action never ceased to send your body in vicious twitches and shakes. 
The flame had been controlled but now it was safely growing in strength and size. Squeezing at every part of your lower belly while steadily increasing. 
Each delicious sound that sounded about the room was muffled when your thighs clasped around Eddie's head, plush skin plastering over his ears, but this way he could feel the sounds echoing in his head through the contact. His lips unwrapped and a sweet kittenlick was rewarded to your clit, his head moved and before you knew it his tongue was tracing the entrance to your hole, once he found his place you felt that same bulbous nose press against your clit, a moan ripped through you and your hips began squirming for friction against him in sync with the strong thrusts of his tongue into you. 
The feeling of such a sensitive nervous system rubbing against the firm skin and natural oils of his nose was like lying down after a non-stop 10 hour speed walk, fully pleasuring your body in more vicious ways than anything else could do.
You were so enraptured by every sensation that you didn't even notice his right hand leave your skin before two fingers forced through your opening. He gave you a second before his tongue found your clit again for a sugary sweet kiss, his eyes found yours as he began pumping his fingers in and out of you. The hand splayed under your breasts found itself in a similar position as the other, grasping onto the sheets, tugging and disrupting the peace of the smooth covers. 
Your second favourite move Eddie did came next, his fingers stilled and began curling inside you in that classic ‘come hither’ motion, his tongue snaked its way to force above his fingers as deep as he could, working furiously to add as much pressure to the slick, spongy wall of your cunt. Massaging the flesh in line with your pussy, he had to fight a wicked grin when his nose came in contact with your clit again and you immediately began grinding against it. 
The hot burning fire was turning blue, angry and full of piping hot rage, raising your body temperature and emitting a light sheen of sweat over your skin. With each press of the pads of his fingers against you, each stroke of his tongue and each drag of your clit against his nose it grew stronger and stronger, no longer resting in the pit of your stomach but spreading to your thighs and chest. With every passing second it grew and grew until its fiery licks were targeting your whole body. Every muscle tensing, fingers and does curling to grip with immense strength, lungs desperately breathing for all consuming air, neck stretching taught with the writhe of your head against the pillows and eyes strained to roll back and find your lost mind at the back of your head. 
Each second, each stroke, each breath, squeeze, curl, strain sent you careening over the edge of the highest peaks of the rocky mountains of Gondor, the fall being stretching to 30 seconds while you writhed, tensed, squeezed and panted. Dizzying metallic rainbows pulsed in waves behind your eyelids before they softened with the landing. Chest rising up and down while pained whimpers of intense overstimulation had Eddie smirking wickedly when he pulled away from you. Nothing in the world could have the strong enough impact to pull you out of your trance from the orgasm, and certainly not the feeling of Eddie slowly pulling your panties down your legs before collapsing down to lay next to you, catching his own breath. 
His hand slithered over your side as he manoeuvred you to snuggle your back to his chest, his grin was ever glowing as he heard your consistent panting, his soft laugh rumbling in his chest and sending vibrations through your body. As you lay there in silence, slowly beginning to catch your breath you soak up the moment, You Belong To Me by Cat Pierce echos softly throughout the room while callused finger travel gently up and down your hip. You can't help the bubbling fire beginning to gather warmth as his touch stretches further, squeezing your thigh before going back up to your hip. 
It grows in heat and quantity as the moment continues, the prickly tones and raspy voice of Cat Pierce making the feeling captivating. Eddie's soft hands enrapture your senses and boast the flames within you, slowly you move in his grasp and turn to face him, deep brown eyes find yours as he looks down at you, his eyes scan your features in utmost adoration. He captures your lips in a passionate yet gentle kiss which has you sighing against him, your fingers rake through his curls as his hand grips your hip to hold you close to him while your lips move rhythmically together, completely in sync the plush pink flesh meets your own in time with your body's movements. 
Hips slowly moving against each other he makes his way on top of you, Love Surrounds You by Ramsey makes the moment all the more desperate, passionate, sexy. Hands roam the surface of each other's skin in desperation, begging to be closer, to feel each other in the way only the two of you could. 
Without ever leaving the caress of your lips Eddies hand slinks between the two of you to wrap around his base as he lifts off of you. In union you sigh loudly as his head pushes past the entrance to your dripping walls. In a well deserved slow pace he thrusts in and out of you, attaching himself to the incredibly intimate moment, in, and out, in, and out, he listens to your shaky breaths and removes his lips from yours, staring down at you as your eyes close in pleasure. 
His arms encase you and hold your torso close to his as his lips begin a trail down the side of your neck and over the expanse of your shoulder, “I” kiss “am” kiss “infatuated” kiss “With you” he sighs against the softness of your skin as you shudder. “Say it again” your whisper only barely reaches his ears but he catches it and pulls away, his eyes find yours again and you watches the gold ambers of chocolate and almond swim in the orbs of his iris, “I’m fucking infatuated with you” the gentle moan is unexpected but welcomed with another deep kiss to your lips. 
As your digits pull at his roots his hips snap against you, his thrusts building harsher and harsher “You don't know what you do to me” heavy pants fill the room as his body works against yours in an altogether delicious movement. “With this fucking body, all for me” he pants before his kisses begin to make their way all over your chest, up and down your neck, over your face, anywhere he can reach. “So beautiful, so sexy, all the time. You are divine” 
“Each breath you take is like a breath of my own, your existence fuels mine” his words ring in your ears like a loud powerful gong, “Something created this prepossessing creature that you are and I don't know what it is but it was definitely not a human responsible. Something wholly, ungodly and out of world crafted your pretty face, carved each curve of your body and wove your intricate personality like fine silk and gifted it onto me and I will spend my lifetime praying to whoever it was that they never take you away from me, because I’m selfish baby, I want you all to myself, I need you all to myself.”
The stretch of his cock and the drag of it along your walls accompanied by such powerful words strengthened with his touch all over your body had your head spinning, your eyes fluttering closed as you felt as though your body was falling into another dimension, backwards, falling, falling. You could see it, the magical flavours of the universe, colours flashing by in a chase, hypnotising you.
Eddie's hips sped up and his hold on you tightened, he didn't even have to ask, he knew. He knew you were on the edge, he could feel your body beginning to vibrate as your breath began to pitch and loud moans drowned the music out. His own breath was heavy and constant, panting heavily before groans took over. 
An explosion ripped through you as hot spurts of cum painted your walls and you screamed.
For nearly an hour you lay there, entwined in the sheets and wrapped up in strong arms, whispering sweet nothings to each other before you drifted off. 
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