#I've been reading a lot of fanfics about him as of late

[myriadismx]

I saw this, and decided that from today onwards, I'll call Gojo "EL YABAI"

aka "I don't fangirl this dude but he makes me nervous!" 😳

[sundrop-writes]

if Mike fell asleep with you...

Word Count: 750

Horror Characters Masterlist

Warnings: this is mostly pure fluff - Mike and the reader are in an established relationship, the reader's gender is not described in any way (the main pronouns used are you/yours), Mike calls the reader angel, the reader takes on a caregiver role for Abby, mostly just short and fluffy. This is set before the main events of the movie, when Mike is working as a security guard at the mall.

A/N: So, I've seen so many people in the tags going 'just let him sleep!!! that man is so exhausted!!' and saying that he's too tired to fuck in the way that people are writing fanfics about him. And as much as I love super horny fics, I do thought this up, because I agree - the man should be allowed to sleep. This is largely inspired by that scene in Grey's Anatomy where Meredith walked in and Owen was asleep on Cristina's chest while she was reading a book (I think it was when she was reading through Mer's mom's diaries?) - anyway. I love that scene so much because it shows how easily he sleeps around her because he's so comfortable around her. And that's why it deeply inspired this. Let him sleep.

...

Mike was exhausted when he came in the door. 

He heaved out a sigh as he closed the door behind him, toeing off his shoes - pure, stiff tiredness radiating through his whole body in the worst way. 

You knew that sound anywhere. 

“Long day?” You inquired gently from your position on the couch, lightly craning your neck to look at him. 

He shuffled further into the house in an almost zombie-like fashion, only giving you a solitary grunt in response. 

You felt kind of bad that he had been stuck at work late when you had been lucky enough to have a morning shift and been treated to a relaxing evening with Abby. She was a relatively easy kid to take care of, and generally fun to be around. 

And after you had put her to bed, you laid out on the couch, relaxing and reading a novel that your friend had recommended. Generally, you were having a nice evening. And it seemed that Mike was not. 

As you kept an eye on Mike, you folded over the page of your book to mark it and put it on the coffee table for later. 

“Dinner’s on the counter.” You told him. “I made lasagna. I can heat it up for you if you want.” 

You hated that before he started dating you, all he knew was freezer burnt crap - but you were slowly showing him how to cook, and a world of vegetables that didn't come in a can. 

Mike took off his jacket and the heavy belt he had to wear for work (his large walkie talkie and his taser were in his locker at work, as mandated, but the thing was still damn uncomfortable) and he hung them both up. 

He didn’t respond to your queries about dinner as he walked around the couch. Instead of speaking, seeing you laying there so relaxed - the sight was all too inviting, and he eased himself to lay on top of you in a form of very natural intimacy before he grunted a few words into your neck. 

“Did Abby eat?” He asked softly as he laid on top of you. 

It was oddly comforting to have the bulk of his weight on top of you, especially as he melted against you, letting out a small moan as the tension melted out of his bones. He adjusted himself to get more comfortable and his face rested against the softness of your chest - you glanced down to see that his eyes were drifting closed. 

“She ate two platefuls, and had some peas.” You assured him. “Did her homework, had a bath, and she practiced her spelling words before she went to bed.” 

Mike grunted again - a more positive pitch to this one. He couldn't ask for anyone better than you. Sometimes he worried about her - all the time. But when Abby was with you, that worry lessened a lot. 

“You’re an angel.” He hummed against your chest. “I don’t-” He let out a gentle yawn. “I don’t know how I got so lucky with you.” 

“You look hot in a uniform and my job at the bookstore gets boring.” You replied, half-joking about the circumstances of how your relationship with Mike had formed. 

You reached out to him and began running your fingers through his hair, soothing him even further into the realm of sleep with the comforting touch. 

He let out another tired moan in reply - something that almost stretched into a rolling sound with the gentle pleasure of your hand in his hair. With the way his body was so slack against yours, his breathing even and quiet, you knew this was only leading one place. 

“You wanna go get ready for bed?” You asked gently. 

“In a minute.” He answered softly, barely parting his lips to get the words out. 

You glanced over to the table and reached out, picking your book back up as his breathing deepened and his body went even more slack. You were preparing to get comfortable for the next few hours. You weren’t all that tired yourself, and you still had a few chapters left to go. When you got to the next chapter, he began to snore lightly and you felt drool dripping down your neck - which didn’t bother you all that much. You found it cute, in fact. 

You were comforted by the fact that he relaxed enough around you to get such a good sleep. You knew that he needed it. 

...

A/N: also, this is my first time posting a fic completely from mobile by copy/pasting something from google docs on my phone. So hopefully the formatting isn't too messed up and hopefully this goes well! And I hope you guys enjoy this short fluffy fic 💖

[604to647]

Fics that Live in My Mind, Rent Free (Pedro's Version) - Part 1

Happy NYE! 🥳🥳

I read so many wonderful, hot, gut-wrenching, unforgettable, inspiring Pedro Pascal character fanfics... and I haven't been reblogging them 🫣 (it's me, hi, I'm the problem it's me). Don't hate me please - reblogging gives me so much anxiety, and I'm not even sure I could articulate why if I tried - and I see a lot of the discussion/discourse/posts re: reblogging and I truly understand all perspectives although it just seems to elevate my nerves about even more.

However, I understand the impact and moreover, I want to do it for the writers that bring me so much joy and inspiration, so I endeavour to try. I want to make it clear that this is a personal hang up of mine, and I have 100% absolutely no comments on how anyone else engages here; reblog/comment/like or don’t per your own preferences and you have nothing but love from me 😘

So it will be a 2024 personal goal of mine to be less shy about reblogging, but while I work up my courage/practice, I wanted to go back and compile a list of some of my fave Pedro boy fics; I think of each and every one of these fics often and have revisited them all (i.e. Exactly the fics I should have reblogged when I read them). I went deep in my likes so some of these fics are quite old; you may have already read them all! If you have or haven’t, I hope you love them as much as I do!

Din Djarin (The Mandalorian, GOAT)

Boxer!Din AU by @djarinsbeskar (Boxer and his masseuse, who relaxes him in more ways than one. I've mentioned before that this is the first Modern Din AU I ever read and it's cemented itself as one of the best. Making Safest with You Din an ex-boxer is my humble homage.)

Freu(Din)an Slip by @saradika (Is there space porn in the SW universe? Yes.)

Bare by @charnelhouse (part of an AU between Din and bounty hunter!reader; other favourite instalments include Come and Conquer and Din's Ex)

A Bond to My Soul by @whiskeynwriting (King!Din and reader, with a battle just outside the doors)

Mine also by @whiskeynwriting (Jealous Din, no need to say more)

Beloved series by @groguspicklejar (Din falls in love with Cyare; mind the tags - the writing is rich and the emotions deep)

Courting by @writerlyhabits (another Mandalorian tries to court you and Din's having none of that)

Hold me down by @starlightmornings (Din as your weighted blanket)

Be Mine by @spacecowboyhotch (Glove kink)

Save a Speeder, Ride a Mando by @sprout-fics (I love fics where Din is jealous of Cobb)

Helping Hand and Did you miss me? by @mellowswriting (Din smut and fluff; they're in love, okay?)

Fix you by @roguetonorth (Comforting Din)

Rough Day by @no-droids (I think everyone knows about this fic; Sweet Girl!Reader holds a special place in my heart)

Take me to Church by @frannyzooey (Western AU; seriously one of the hottest and most romantic series I've ever read. I cried several times 🥹)

Flowers & Sex by @221bshrlocked (Din and innocent!Reader)

Show me by @moralesispunk (A bounty gets mouthy)

Patience by @oscarseyebrow (Starts with cockwarming)

Close Quarters by @absurdthirst (One bed/bunk)

Reunion by @heybluechild (Breaking in the N1)

Significant by @softlyspector (Din calls Reader "Riduur"; I love, love, love Mando fics with lots of Mando'a; so much care is always taken by the writers to translate and weave the words into the story)

Din takes out his frustrations by @ourautumn86

Javier Pena (Narcos)

Burn for Me by @theshireisburning-so-mordoritis (Reader teases Javi; it backfires)

Use me by @toomanystoriessolittletime (Javi is frustrated)

Needy by @wheresarizona (Reader is going to be late for work 🤭)

Reader brings Javi dinner at work by @forthetears

Joel Miller (TLOU)

Bad Girl by @seventeenpins (The first in a hot stepdad!Joel Miller series)

The Boss' Bunny by @talaok (The first in a series about QZ criminal boss Joel and his insatiable bunny)

Help! I'm Stuck! by @nosesitter (Oof! Father-in-law!Joel Miller and his OF daughter-in-law; 2 in the series so far)

Stripped by @thot-of-khonshu (Mr. Miller goes to a strip club)

Stay in Bed series by @psychedelic-ink (Neighbour Joel, pre-outbreak)

A Man Like Him by @valerinaswriting (No one should question Joel's abilities)

Mine by @toomanystoriessolittletime (Reader wears Joel's shirt on accident)

You Are My Cinema by @itgetsdark-x (Camgirl!Reader)

An Afternoon with Your Dad's Best Friend by @elvinaa (I mean, it's in title 🤭; I actually always secretly wish for a sequel to this one)

Come and get your love by @sunflowersteves (Sunshine!Reader)

Francisco "Catfish" Morales (Triple Frontier)

Kinktober 2022 - Erotic Photos by @moralesispunk (Reader gifts Frankie a Polaroid camera)

Thirds by @haylzcyon (Reader visits new boyfriend Frankie at work)

Grass is Greener by @haylzcyon (Frankie mows the lawn)

Kinktober 2022 - Overstimulation by @flightlessangelwings-updates (This was my introduction to pussy eating king Frankie)

Cabin in the woods by @guess-my-next-obsession (The cabin is spooky but Frankie is there to take care of Reader)

Double Feature (and all of the Box Set Universe) by @frannyzooey (Frankie and Reader love movies)

Pero Tovar (The Great Wall)

Little Red's Shadow by @littlemisspascal (Werewolf!Pero 🥹)

In my dreams by @toomanystoriessolittletime (Princess falls for a mercenary)

Tim Rockford (Merge Mansion, all 48 seconds)

A Sight for Sore Eyes and Sir by @ozarkthedog (Semi-public sex)

Anything you say can and will be held against you by @jksprincess10 (Workplace rivals)

An Important Appointment by @boliv-jenta (Sex worker!Reader)

Marcus Moreno (We Can Be Heroes)

A present by @radiowallet (Lingerie prompt; Cat writes some of the best Marcus Moreno fics on here imho. This one is my personal fave)

First Date by @absurdthirst (Workplace FWB)

The Date by @wardenparker (Professor!Marcus but also Marcus on a motorcycle)

Part 2 of list

[maximwtf]

Hello person- I must say I love reading your lil fanfics always keeps me busy when It's in the middle of the night and I can't sleep lmao.

If I may, if you are still accepting requests- A Legolas x reader, where the reader isn't aware of a custom that elves have about braiding their hair and basically just accidentally confesses to him when they get bored one day and just start braiding his hair and only finds out when the Fellowship congratulates them for confessing or something along those lines hehehe

Legolas x reader

words: 1930

google docs pages: 3

warnings: none? fluff :D 

opening: One day while you’re bored, you begin to braid Legolas’ hair, unaware of its meaning to the elves. It’s only later, when you find out the message behind it. 

AN// Thank you so much for this request, love the idea! (this also gives me a reason to not write the other ideas I've been putting off xd) idk if this is a little ooc, but I hope it’s okay^^ It’s also lovely to hear that you enjoy my work!^^ Reader can be any gender !

         “A time for congratulations?”

It hadn’t been long since you had joined the fellowship from Rivendell, like most of the others had too. The only one you knew better than the others was Legolas. Him you had met more than a few times in the past, mostly as an accident, but you did genuinely enjoy his company. You’d never admit it to anyone in the group, but you were happy that he had been the one from Mirkwood to join. You heard it had been his father who had suggested befriending Aragorn to him, and it was when Legolas had begun to look for Aragorn that he had met you. Aragorn you had only met a few times, and back then only knew him as “strider” like most. The others you had only met when the Fellowship had been formed, but all of them had seemed okay. 

Now, trailing behind Legolas, you examined your surroundings silently. Old trees with roots going all across the forest blocked the view on your right and on the left only a few trees were growing, enjoying the sun they were able to get. The trees on the left casted dark shadows on the almost non existent road you were walking on. Gandalf had seemed to be very certain that there was a trail going here, but you weren’t so sure. But since no one else had doubted him, you had decided to just follow along. At least you weren’t going to get lost alone.

As your gaze moved from left to right, amazed by the sturdy old trees, being able to stand for such a long time, you noticed Legolas turning to look at you for a moment. It was only for a split second, but it made you humm to yourself. Perhaps he was happy to see you too. It was rarely that you could spend more time with him, mostly just short bump ins every now and then. He was a prince, and probably had a lot to do.

The group seemed to have noticed the darkened shadows of the trees, and decided to set camp for the night. The sun seemed to be setting, making the casted shadows even darker before the sky would begin to follow along. Spreading the darkness of the upcoming night all over.

You had agreed to take the first watch shift of the night before anyone could steal it from you. You’d rather stay up late and go to sleep than wake up in the middle of the night to take your turn. Boromir and Gimi seemed to have collected some bigger pieces of wood and some sticks that Aragorn had been able to set on fire to create a campfire. Legolas, you and the hobbits helped to bring some rocks and logs around the fire so everyone could sit. Sam had requested if he could make something to eat, and surprisingly enough no one had disagreed. The start of the night seemed to be going smoothly. 

As Sam had begun to cook some kind of a soup or a stew, everyone else had spread around the fire. Some were fixing up their weapons and others just talking. You swore you had seen Merry and Pippin bothering Boromir too. You on the other hand had found a spot close to the fire. Most of the ‘seats’ had been taken, but that just allowed you to sit closer to the warming flames of the campfire. Legolas had seated himself near you. You could hear him lowering his bow and the quiver against the log he was sitting on. Other than that and the quiet talking, the only noise you could hear was the mixing of the soup Sam was making. Sometimes the ladle would hit the edges of the saucepan, causing a small noise to break the silent gaps.The moon was only a half, but since there weren't a lot of clouds in the sky, it was able to shine its light all over the forest. At times it felt like time had stopped after the sun had started to go down, and was still shining some light over the fellowship. It was only the cold night air that let you know it indeed was almost time to go and rest. 

You shivered under your clothes, pulling the cloak closer to you, making sure it was properly over your shoulders. Something rustled behind you, and soon another cape was placed over you. A small ‘huh?’ left your mouth as you turned to look who it was. Legolas clipped the front clip shut so the cloack wouldn’t fall off of you. “You seemed cold.” He said, smiling slightly as he sat back down. “I- Thank you.” You said, still confused by the gesture. “Aren’t you going to be cold?” You then asked, feeling bad if he’d have to freeze because of you. The elf laughed lightly at your question and shook his head. “Elves can tolerate the cold better than humans, therefore you should keep it.” He explained to you. 

You had never really thought of how different you were to him. Sure, you were friends with him, but you had no idea that the elves could tolerate the cold better than humans. Maybe you’d find out something else about him as the fellowship continued. This had to only one from many things that made elves so different from you. 

You noticed that the faint light of the moon made his almost white hair look magical. The usually well braided strands of hair had opened up from the fighting the group had gone through with a few orcs earlier that day. You had noticed that the prince usually kept his hair well done, but maybe he hadn’t noticed yet. 

Not being sure if you’d embarrass him if you pointed it out, you got up and sat next to him. You weren’t an elf but you had gotten your hair done before and over the years learned how to braid hair in different styles. So without another word, you took a hold of one of the half opened braids and began to undo it completely. Legolas seemed to have tensed up for a moment and you felt his eyes on you, but to your surprise he soon turned his gaze away and let you continue. 

You braided the first strand of hair, pulling it behind his ear the way you’d seen him usually have them. After starting to fix the other one, you felt another pair of eyes on the two of you. With a quick look you found out who it was. Aragorn was sitting on the other side of the campfire with an amused look on his face. Not understanding what he had found amusing, you kept on working on Legolas’ hair. The prince’s hair was smooth and easy to work with. Humming to yourself, “you have lovely hair.” You said quietly, seeing the man shiver, but saying nothing about it. You were enjoying the moment, getting to feel closer to your friend for once. The warmth of Legolas’ cloak and the fire kept you warm and protected from the gusts of wind. The smell of the soup Sam had made was good, and it felt great to know you were going to be eating something that not only would taste good but also would be warm. You felt like you had only been eating bread and apples for such a long time. 

You finished the other braid and mixed it in with the unbraided parts of his hair. “Both are fixed again.” You hummed mostly to yourself but out loud so Legolas could hear it too. You felt his eyes on you for a moment before they moved to Sam, when he handed the both of you a bowl with some steaming soup in it. You thanked the hobbit with a nod, and began to eat. From the corner of your eye, you caught Aragorn telling Gimli something and them both silently laughing. Trying not to pay no mind to the conversation, you couldn't help but to wonder if it was about what Aragorn had found so amusing earlier?

After that night, many more passed. Some worse and some just as good, but what kept everyone going was the mission and the people in the fellowship. Legolas never mentioned anything about you braiding his hair, and he even let you do it once or twice after. But after every time, it felt like more eyes were on the two of you. It was first only Aragorn, then Gimli joined and soon even Gandalf was in on it. At times it felt like even Legolas knew what was going on. 

After some time of you being oblivious of what had been going on, you decided to bring it up. You had so many theories of what they could have been up to, that you just had to find out. Making your way from the back of the group to where Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli were, you prepared yourself. “What are you hiding from me?” This got the attention of the three, all of them slowing down their walking speed a little. “Whatever do you mean?” Legolas asked, giving Aragorn a quick look, almost as if he was trying to tell the man something. “You all clearly have been sharing a rumor or something along the lines of that.” You replied, but didn’t get an answer from anyone for a moment. “You should tell them.” Gandalf’s voice rang from the front of the group, clearly also aware of what you were talking about. “It isn’t a rumor per say.” Gimli started, looking at Aragorn for a moment, hoping he’d take it from there. You saw Legolas look away, not taking part in the conversation. “We wished to congratulate you on confessing to Legolas.” Your eyes widened for a moment, and without even wanting to, a “what?” Left your mouth. “They weren’t aware, Aragorn.” Legolas finally joined in, looking at his friend. “What is this all about?” You tilted your head. “When you braid his hair. See, to elves it has a significant meaning behind it.” Aragorn tried to explain. Your hand traveled over your mouth, clearly shocked. “And you didn't think to tell me?” You blushed slightly, smacking Legolas’ arm lightly. He stopped, taking a light hold of your hand to pause you as well. “I wanted to explain it to you but I found that..” He tried to look for words for a moment, and you let him. “I found that I cared for you that way, and I wasn’t certain if you had found the meaning yourself...” His eyes met yours again, after traveling for a moment. You stayed silent, not even noticing that the rest of the fellowship had also stopped near the two of you. “But I am aware that I should have told-” Legolas broke the silence but you stopped him before he could finish. “It’s all okay. I feel similar.” You admitted, looking away for a second. “Is this a better time for congratulations?” Gimli’s voice asked from behind you as Aragorn walked closer as well. “Yes, yes it is.” You smiled and turned back to Legolas. His eyes looked at you with admiration in them. “Gi Melin.” (I love you)

[halfagone]

Cassandra Cain and Communication

I've been noticing an interesting trend in DPxDC fanfics lately where people write Cass like she's psychic, or in simpler terms: she can read someone and in an instant know how to help them. And while I can definitely see the merits of this kind of approach, there are a lot of things to keep in mind.

I cannot stress enough how isolated Cass' childhood was. When it's said that David Cain trained her only in the language of killing, it is not an exaggeration. In many early renditions of her character, Cass cannot speak at all, and if she can, only in short, brief sentences. Cass goes the first seventeen years of her life not knowing how to read.

That is a canonical plot point too. We see Barbara teaching Cass to read in Batman Volume 1 #567:

Based on the context surrounding this scene, this is a regular occurrence between the pair. Cass has also sought out Stephanie before to read something for her (Batgirl Volume 1 #20). If you're curious about more analysis surrounding this particular subject, this post has some interesting points and shows the gradual shift in how DC handled her character.

But this is early into her time with the Batfamily. What about later on, when she's more assimilated to the Waynes and her fellow vigilantes?

Well, you don't even have to be a hardcore comic fan to see how she continues to struggle with expression and communication. In Wayne Family Adventures, episodes 32 and 33, we see how Cass' ability to read body language has also hurt her and her relationship with the people around her.

She doesn't mean to hurt Stephanie's feelings in these episodes, but the damage is real and it happened. Cass means well, ultimately, but she still doesn't know how or when to address these problems. She sees that Steph is hurting and wants to help; those are all admirable qualities! But in the end, she only pushes Stephanie further away, and is left feeling guilty and carrying self-loathing in the wake.

Here is also a reminder: Cass killed her first man at the age of 8 years old, and consequently ran away from her father when she realized killing was wrong. She did not know what he felt was fear. She did not know the definition of fear, nor the word for it. She just saw the expression on his face as he died, and realized that something was wrong, and ran away.

Cass doesn't arrive to Gotham until she's 17 years old, around the No Man's Land era, if I remember correctly. She is on the run for 9 years in this time, and sadly, she did not pick up many- if any- language or communication skills during this period. This isn't a fault on her character either, when she likely had to keep moving and didn't have time to connect with anyone like she did with Barbara, who could teach her how to speak and read.

But at the end of the day, it makes sense that Cass doesn't know how to socialize. Think of a real life example: some kids who grow up homeschooled struggle to make connections once they reach adulthood and start looking for a job. They've never had to make small talk, or address strangers face-to-face, so they don't know how to interact with people. Cass' situation is a more extreme version of this scenario, but with blood, brutal training, and child abuse involved.

At her core, Cass is a good person. And she will continue to be that good person. But she doesn't always have the answers. Nobody does! She'll continue to help people to the best of her abilities, but sometimes those abilities can be limited.

Cass is not a perfect person. When Bruce was lost in the timeline, and the remaining Batfamily members started to splinter and fall apart in the wake, Cass didn't remain in Gotham to help with the rising violence with Batman's absence. Instead, when her family needed her most, she went to Hong Kong, because she didn't want to be there without Bruce. She did briefly meet Tim in Paris, when she had saved him from the Daughters of Acheron, but she still doesn't accompany Tim, nor does she return to Gotham even after finding out the city is extremely understaffed.

Cass is well-meaning, but she is not faultless. We might not like to acknowledge the flaws of our favorite characters, but those flaws are a part of them! Just like how Bruce consistently fails to express himself is a part of his. Or how Dick tries to pretend that everything is fine so he doesn't have to address his own problems. Or how Jason can be inconsistent with his motivations and people get hurt as a result. Or how Tim keeps too many secrets and pushes people away, ruining multiple relationships in turn.

I could go on and on, but all these characters are more than just their flaws. The same thing with Cass.

So don't be afraid to show a Cass that doesn't know how to fix things. Don't be afraid to show a Cass that doesn't know what to do, but just tries her best. It's one of her most admirable qualities: always trying no matter what.

[queenendless]

🪶❣️🪽This Bird's Beauty (Keigo Takami/Hawks x Adult!Fem!Reader)🪽❣️🪶

A/N: Testing the waters and getting back to writing BNHA stuff. This time on my recent simping/comfort character.

AU time, already established relationship, tickle fluff, and emotional stuff cause I'm an emotional wreck right now.

Plus I have read a lot of tickle fluff with this man and now I want in on it! There is some in here so I count that!

The past month and so this bird man has been on my mind. And I need new anime husbandos to write for!

PLEASE DON'T PLAGARIZE STEAL COPY TRANSLATE AND OR REPOST MY FANFIC CONTENT. Rather reblog like and follow please and thnx u.

Another day in Kyushu.

Another busy patrol.

All to attain his long-term goal of heroes having too much free time on their hands.

Worn out, scuffed here and there, and gliding slowly above his hometown, the #2 hero Hawks was heading back to his favorite spot in the city.

A conversation from earlier surfaced in his mind.

“No villain stands a chance against you, Hawks!” One of his sidekicks ego boosted him.

“And no hero for that matter.” His other sidekick remarked.

Hawks chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Endeavor would disagree on that last one. Even the fastest hero alive can't handle the flames so well.”

“And does the fastest youngest hero alive have their eyes set on anyone lately~?”

“I've got my whole life before this young bird settles down in the nest.” That was his ending remark before saluting off to his crew and flying on outta there.

“Still …” He murmured to himself as he took a certain familiar route through the air. “I've already got my sights set on a particular birdie~”

A precious light amongst the seas of blurred smudges.

Saving you on more than one occasion.

Just a regular quirkless person.

Coincidence turned into a kinda sorta reason.

Spotting you between patrols and breaks.

An instant curiosity turned to intrigue.

Walking with you, talking with you about anything besides hero work, getting some fried chicken together.

This new constant of his day-to-day life as the #2 hero of Japan became the one constant he wished to keep hidden from the rest of the world.

One minute you're the breath of fresh air that he gladly partakes in. The next thing he knows, seeing you waving at him one day had his stoic face burning up at how much his heart was racing.

Your genuine gaze, your comforting scent, your infectious laughter —

Razor sharp vision spotted your apartment a mile away as he arrived at the more tranquil suburbs set against the rowdy cityscape.

He could immediately visualize you reading something curled up on your fuzzy soft rug in your bedroom, laying on your tummy as your bare legs crisscrossed in the air, your balcony door cracked open to let in the fresh air.

“All too easy.” He snickered as he sent several of his small feathers to zoom in through the opening.

Your recognition of the tough supple fuzziness that is his feathers stroking your bare soles had you rubbing away those tingling touches only to giggle absentmindedly as those feathers split up to stroke your heels, your topsides, and your arches.

Viewing your smile growing and picking up your melodious giggles through the sound vibrations in the air his feathers received had him relishing in his newfound hobby on top of winding down with you.

“Beautiful, inside and out.”

Your concentration on reading crumbled as you squeaked from those feathers wiggling against your toes, having you roll over and pull your legs to your chest, rubbing your feet together as your narrowed gaze homed in on those feathers floating back to the big bird man perched outside.

“Hey birdy!” Hawks' cheery face and tone had you at a loss between glee and frustration. “I've missed ya!” He was met with a pillow thrown at his face, taking the plush smack, catching it right after. “I take it the feeling’s not mutual?”

“It's been a week.” You stood up and brushed out your wrinkled attire as he hopped down from his perch on the railing before you, his ruffled feathers straightening themselves out. “And the first thing you do is a sneak attack!”

“Well, performing my heroic duties comes first, of course. Didn't stop me from thinking about you, though.” His flattery could only get him so far out of the doghouse, tossing the pillow aside. “And your lovely voice.”

“Can't see why though – EEK~!” The feather tickling your neck had you squealing and smacking your skin for not catching said feather as Hawks snorted in his gloved hand, smirking his ass off.

“Well cause I like everything about you … and you being ticklish is just a bonus.” He laughed as you playfully smacked his arm. “This is the thanks I get for saving you all those times?”

“Yeah, thanks a lot. I owe you my life.” Your sarcastic remark trails off when his tough supple wings draped around you, pulling you flush against him as his pouting lips and downtrodden eyes made you sigh in exasperated admittance. “Okay okay.”

Grabbing both sides of his fluffy collar, you pulled Hawks down enough for you to gently peck his lips. “Seriously … thank you.”

He blushed bright as a rose, grinning all dopey like. He cupped and brushed your cheeks as he returned the kiss tenderly, murmuring between breaks. “How lucky am I to have a gem like you in my life?”

“Flattery will only get you so far, #2.” Your airy remark was short lived as his golden-brown eyes gleamed with mirth.

“And your teasing will just keep getting you this~!”

His wings scribbled against your backside, causing a stream of squeals to come out, sounding so melodious to his own ears.

“No fair!” Your frantic pushing against his chest only drove him to have his feathers strike your nape. “Stahahap!” You felt your feet slip over your forgotten book, leaving it up to Hawks’ quick reflexes to keep you standing as his arms and wings protectively wrapped you up in his fuzzy cocoon, increasing the tingling sensations rubbing every inch of you. “Hahahahahawks!”

“So sensitive.” His faint stubble brushed the side of your neck, grinning against your skin as you squeaked louder. “So squishy~” He swooned, his arms flexing as he squeezed your waistline, wiggling his fingers into your sides plus squeezing them for good measure. “So squeamish!”

“I hahahate you – AAH~!” Him lifting you by your thighs had your arms and legs instinctively hugging his neck and waist.

“That's not what I see here, beautiful~” His smug smirk made you hide your flushed whining face in his neck, feeling the rumbling of his laughter seep through you. “But okay, I'll stop with the tickles … if you help me strip~”

“God you tease.” Your complaint was betrayed by your heartfelt emotion. Gingerly taking off his visor, his amused affectionate eyes watched as you also took off his headphones with slow tepid care, keeping you steady with his hands pressed to you tight.

“Ya know … you can call me by my real name … if you want to, that is.” He mused as he plopped down on your bed and helped you take off his jacket. “Seems only fair since I always call you by yours.” He pried his gloves off with his teeth, tempting you with his actions. “I wanna hear my name coming off your lips~” He purred.

Tenderly setting his removed items down on your nightstand table, you cupped his own cheeks just so you could look him straight in those golden-brown hues. “Keigo.” His eyes lite up right away. “K … Kei.” He audibly gulped as rose red tinted from his ears to his neck for indeed his blushing face spoke volumes of how overjoyed he was. “Can I call you that? Kei?”

He cheekily grinned. “Anything for you, angel.”

You peppered kisses all over his own giggling face. Prying his boots off with help from the heels, Keigo delicately pushed you to lie down on your back, legs intertwined, as some of his feathers tugged the balcony slide door closed before returning to his wings draping you both in their cozy protective warmth.

“I really did miss you, baby bird.”

He froze up as the sounds of sniffles reached his ears. The sight of tears making your e/c eyes shimmer like jewels are as mesmerizing as they are heart wrenching.

“I missed you too, Kei. So much.” His butterfly kisses to your eyes and cheeks were his way to cheer you up and show you just how much he cares for you, smiling as his stubble tickled your sensitive face enough to make you giggle and smile yourself.

“This optimistic guy is just glad to finally be home with his beauty again.” He sighed deeply as you brushed through his unruly messy hair, relaxing and leaning in to your heavenly touch.

Lulled by your caresses, he felt himself falling asleep, whispering as his droopy eyes turned to you.

“Y/n, thank you.” His lazy kiss gets returned by you, having his tired smile still radiating endearment as you both pulled away. “For coming into my life. Letting me be myself around you. Just … everything.”

“I feel the same way, Kei.” You confess as you too felt the embrace of sleep taking you in, using his chest as a pillow, slacking as having him back in your arms made it that much easier to settle down and unwind, straight to sleepy town. “I love you.”

Keigo's heart beats right outta his chest at that confession, admiring your sweet sleeping self, giving your forehead a kiss, curling into you, lulled by your soft breathing as it became his favorite lullaby. “I love you too.”

His wings settled back, pulling away to rest behind him as Keigo pulled you two to lay on your sides, still enraptured in each other, as nighttime swept throughout Kyushu.

For their winged protector took a nice long rest.

With you, his beautiful partner, safe and sound in his arms.

[wingedhallows]

traitor - ch. one; sirius black

pairing: sirius black (golden trio era) x fem! oc | 0.9k words warning: dark themes, death, torture plot: Fourteen years ago, Hecate Hunt, a valuable member of the Order and once a Death Eater gave her life for her friends and the man she loved, at least that's what was believed. Now she's done hiding, ready to fight alongside her old friends and her godson. Ready to return to the life she once had, ready to once again be a traitor. authors note: hi there! I've been meaning to write this since it's been wandering around in my head for weeks. Thank you for reading and let me know if you liked it! :) ps.: this is the first work of mine in years, i wrote a lot of fanfics in highschool but somehow this helps with taking my mind off things. thank u <3 btw, things aren't absolutely accurate so don't come for me, let's just vibe, ok? ok.

navigation | chapter one ; chapter two ; chapter three

then

"I want you all to meet a new member to the order. I believe her to be trusted, however you might think." from behind the old wizard a young woman emerged. Hair dark and long, a solem look on her face as she stepped infront of him. "Nice to meet you." she spoke, voice deep and firm. Her eyes were dark, almost black in the dim lit kitchen of the Black residence. Sirius felt himself lean forward, determined to catch a glimpse of her face.

"This is Hecate Hunt, a powerful witch and-"a Death Eater." Alastor Moody spoke, his eye skimming from side to side, mouth in a smarl. "Felt it minutes ago." The other members let their shock be known. Gasps and whispers present. She knew the members, of course. How could she not know the legendary Marauders, for one. 

"Why would you bring a Death Eater to this place, Albus?" Minerva spoke, voice almost too quiet to hear. Hecate let her gaze wander to Lily and James Potter who held hands, thumbs stroking each others hands. She had known the younger members, as she visited Hogwarts the same years they did. They were hard to miss. Remus Lupin just stared at her, hands in fists. Sirius Black on the other hand had his jaw clenched, mouth in a scowl and his wand in his hand. She knew of the older Black all too well. She had listened to the Dark Lord complain about Walburga and Orions incapability of turning their own son to the dark side multible times.

"Hecate has changed her mind in light of recent events.-"I don't buy it. Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater." Sirius interupted Albus, his fist connected with the dark wooden table as he spat the words. Anger rose inside of her, she knew of his temper, had seen it first hand in their school days. "Oh you would know all about it, right? Since your familiy's swamped with'em and all, Black." Hecate spat, hands now crossed over her chest. She stooped low, she knew, but she had to get in, she had to make a change. She wouldn't let Black ruin it.

Sirius was fast to jump to his feet, wand raised and his body shaking with anger. "How dare yo-"Sirius, please." Remus tugged him down to his chair. Hecate didn't back down, ready to take whatever would jump from the purebloods wand. It wouldn't be worse than to stand against the Cruciato curse, which made its way passed Lord Voldemorts lips all too often. 

Albus huffed a sigh as he eyed Sirius. "If i could continue what i was about to say." Hecate shifted her weight from one leg to another, uneasy with the mood in the room. "Hecate was the witch who freed Alice and Frank Longbottom from the clutches of Death Eaters." he paused, looking at the woman next to him. "Delivered them right to me. I believe that no real Death Eater would've shown them mercy. Therefore, after careful thinking, i recruit Hecate Hunt to be a member of the Order." she gave him a curt nod before taking a seat. She had freed them, too late though. Barty Crouch Jr had broken their minds when she arrived. She'd just spared them from their death. Her eyes once again connected with those of Sirius.

"The reason why i want to help you, is my sister."

now

Harry made his way passed the table, to the cabinets filled with plates and mugs. Sirius sat at the head of the table, a mug in one hand and the daily prophet in the other. "Morning, Harry." he spoke, a hopeful smile on his bearded face. Remus Lupin sat to his right, a little notebook placed on the table in front of him as he looked up at Padfoots godson. "Morning." he spoke as he saw Harry. He also greeted Lupin with a small smile. "Good Morning."  They didn't mind Harry looking around, it was an old and interesting house after all. Harry thanked Kreacher as the house elf scrambled to make the kid a cup of tea. His eyes locked on a picture frame. The only picture frame there was. 

There he saw Sirius and a woman he didn't know. Sirius looked younger, twenty maybe, the woman next to him was beautiful. Her dark long hair hung down her shoulders, shimmering in the warm sunlight as a bright smile spread across her pale face. Sirius gave her an adoring look before he smacked his lips on her cheek. The moment repeated, as every foto in the wizard world does.

"Sirus." he spoke, voice quiet. "Who is this?"

He turned around to look at his godfather. His face had frozen up, the shadow of a tear in his eyes. "Harry.." He could hear Remus say, an attempt of pushing the matter away.

"That's.." Sirius had to take a breath, his voice failing him. "Hecate Hunt." he spoke. He took a sip of his mug, the daily prophet long forgotten on the table in front of him. "Your godmother." it was merely a whisper as he spoke. Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing.

He had a godmother, somewhere out there-"She's dead." his voice rang in Harry's head. Harry placed the picture on the table, hand on his hip as he tried again. "How-"That's enough, Harry." Remus said, before Sirius rose to his feet and left, a quiet sob sounded in the distance.

"You-Know-Who killed her, there's nothing more to it." Remus spoke before he walked after his best friend. The boy once more stared at the picture in front of him. The woman, Hecate, once again gave the camera a warm smile. Just as young Sirius planted another forcefull kiss on her cheek he could hear a loud rumble upstairs. 

Sirius had just blown something to bits.

[pyschedtrickster]

TADC Ep 2 - Depression and the Meaning of Life

Well, I may or may not be a day late to release of the episode, but I've watched it three times so far and I have some thoughts. Let's get the gritty stuff outta the way.

First of all, The Amazing Digital Circus belongs to @gooseworx and therefore everything I say here is just my personal take on the episode. I could be wrong, talking out my ass, etc. But this episode really spoke to me, so good job Goose.

Secondly, spoilers <3

Third, I think I've written enough that people won't get jumpscared with spoilers. This is gonna be a long read, so bear with me. This post will contain ALL my thoughts on the episode, both meaningful and just silly things I liked.

BUBBLE

So anyone who knows me from Bunnydoll Burrow knows I love Bubble. They're my favorite so far and this episode only cemented that further. They're wonderful comedic relief and even if they don't have any character development (which I don't think they will), I will always love them.

Caine Cares Too Much

While watching this, I was immediately off-put by Caine's reactions, even beginning with him calling Zooble back. He sounds so... dire? I don't know if that was intended to mean something or if it was just to put emphasis on how much Caine cares about his creations. Caine is AI, so world-building is likely his ONLY goal, or his prompt if you will. It wouldn't surprise me if that was why he was so upset by everyone's reactions.

But I can't help but wonder if this will play into his character arc. We understand that Caine is ambiguous right now and there's no real explanation of what his intentions are in the Circus. Something about this just really set me off. It made me feel unsafe in a way as if staying behind would result in danger of some kind. Obviously, it couldn't be that bad, as Zooble did stay behind and turned out fine. Still, I can't shake the feeling that this is foreshadowing.

Zoobie

Hilarious. What a solid nickname, I've seen so many headcanons that Zooble would be a stoner in the real world. This only makes it better. They are now Zoobie in my mind.

Pomni's Child Comment

While I'm sure this was just a silly comment to be made, I kinda liked it. Just a little in-show reminder that through all of this, Pomni is a real, grown-ass woman stuck inside some digital Hell. The whole first episode, we see her wallowing and panicking, justifiably so. Finally, we get to see her grow more serious and stable.

Through the episode, we see more of her being a good character and becoming more at terms with her situation. I'll touch on this more soon.

Gangle

My girl CANNOT catch a break. Gangle is such a funny character and so, so sweet. She's level-headed in my opinion, even through her emotions. She seems to have a good grip on the shit happening around her but has a hard time communicating properly because she has a lot of feelings going on. Me too, honey, me too.

Even in the face of violence, danger, and overall shitfuckery, she doesn't shut down. Sure, she cries. But I've cried plenty of times while still holding the fort down. I think I just relate to her.

Lastly, I NEED to know what this means like I need oxygen.

Government Mandated Shipping

I dunno man, I just really liked this. I'm a shipper at heart. I've been writing fanfic since middle school. I saw pure fanfic material when I watched this scene.

Kinger and Raggs

This scene made me smile. It's a cute nod towards how Kinger is the longest-standing character and, according to some lost post of Goose's, Ragatha is the second. Plus, all of episodes one and two, we see her trying so hard to be a rock for Pomni. She tries to include everyone, keep everyone cheerful, and be a stable constant in a realm of chaos; Seeing Kinger recognize how far she's come and using that to bring her back to reason was just so refreshing. Ragatha deserves more appreciation like that: less about what she does for others, and more about what she's done for herself.

Jax's Disappointment

So we don't know much about Jax besides how Goose loves him and says he's an asshole who may or may not be irredeemable. When he started talking about violence and getting excited at the thought, I chalked it up to him being an ass. But it struck me just how much this mattered to Jax in this scene. I have questions, man. But I'm about to go on a wild tangent, so hear me out.

Jax is happy when being destructive. He gets immediately upset when things go well. And in the circus, we can assume that there have been a lot of traumatic, wild things that have occurred. I wonder if the chaos, the violence, is a comfort for Jax because of those traumatic experiences. As a person with trauma, I've learned that there's a funny cycle that I and other traumatized people experience.

We don't like the situations we're in, but when faced with normalcy, it's so much scarier than the damaging situation we come from. So, we run from 'normal' back into the suffocating arms of our traumatizing situations for comfort. Going back to the situation means more trauma, more trauma means a harder time finding peace in a safe, normal environment, which means more trauma... you get the picture.

So am I saying a fictional purple bunny is using violence in a digital realm to cope with the very real topic of trauma? Maybe. Yes. Yes, I am. This is how I cope.

Depression, Finding Your Place, and the Bigger Picture

Now you may be saying, "hey! You skipped over some major scenes to talk about silly stuff! What gives?"

Well, as the title of this post suggests, I had some heavier stuff to address in this episode and wanted to compile it all in one section. So that meant skipping over a scene to bunch it in with other ones. I'll break it down.

Depression

Let me begin with the fact that I have been diagnosed with depression for years now. I've been hospitalized for it and I've had family members struggle with it around me. This heavily influenced how I viewed this episode and specifically this scene.

Gummigoo had a perfectly reasonable reaction to seeing the perfect replica of him that is his model. Seeing something like that would shatter your world, and we see that happen to him immediately.

But when Gummigoo talked to Pomni and asked why anything matters, it gave me this really familiar feeling. Thoughts of being nothing, of feeling meaningless, the mere idea of being an obstacle--I've experienced all of these. I'm sure others have. Pomni was right when she said it's normal. Everyone has felt down from time to time.

But what Gummigoo is talking about really hit home with my depression. Thoughts like these, especially when they linger for long, change how you view the world. Everything is tinted blue and desaturated. You feel empty and eventually, so does the world around you. You feel like when the party is over and everyone leaves, you disappear--or you think you should, at least.

"Why are you trying to cheer me up? How does this benefit you at all?"

And it's so, so hard to accept help when feeling like this. Depression is a bitch in the way that it wants you to stay depressed. It feels like everyone around you wants you to feel better because it is a convenience for them. It almost feels transactional if you smile.

But Pomni says it so beautifully; "I guess I just don't want you to feel like you're nothing. I don't want anybody to feel like that."

The way she says it makes me feel like she knows the feeling too, and in reality, she says she does understand in a way how Gummigoo feels. But that? That made it real for me. I don't know why. This whole scene, the entrapment and loneliness despite not actually being alone, just embodied how I've felt for years. What amazing writing.

Finding Your Place

This scene was really the cherry on top of everything I just spoke about. We see that these two understand each other, at least as much as they can. They recognize all of this, it's ridiculous. They're hurtling through space into the unknown, hoping everything works out. They may feel empty, but they're not alone. They've got each other, for better or worse. Maybe they don't know where they belong in this liminal space, but they know where they stand in each other's minds.

And then we get this ending scene. God. Fuck.

I knew that there was obviously something to that dream Pomni had in the beginning, but somehow I didn't expect this to be the conclusion to it. I guess I was too distracted by everything else. So when I got to this shot, I got all warm and teary-eyed.

Pomni finally feels like she's got a pack, a place in this digital circus. When you don't feel mentally alone anymore, there seems to be a weight that's lifted off your shoulders. It doesn't cure the sadness, but at least you know that if you need to be picked up, someone will be there. Depression wants you to be alone, but it just lost that battle. The internet has said it best: A win is a win.

The Bigger Picture

We all know where the end of the road is. How we get there is the mystery. This thought can really make a person feel small, especially when depression comes in to tell you that you in fact are small, according to the chemicals in your brain. But the power of numbers and knowing your place in the world makes facing the unknown a little easier.

I'll be honest, the words are kinda lost on me at this point. Our demise is a really hard topic to broach. I've lost a lot of people, especially some major players in my life (shoutout to the Dead Dads club), and still, I don't understand it all. But the best way I can explain it is through my own experience and how I applied it to this episode.

I had for a long time gone through life trying to prepare and prepare. I played the role of the strong, unaffected individual after being hardened by trauma in childhood. I didn't want to be outwardly emotional, because if I was I would have to admit defeat.

It made me feel weak, especially when my depression would whisper nasty things to me about my self-worth. The bigger picture at that time didn't even exist in my mind. I lived to serve and die. It was no way to live.

Only recently, with time, a couple grippy sock vacays and therapy have I started to form my own, new big picture. At the center of this is my interactions with others. Family, friends, and strangers, all of them are affected by my actions. Even during the days when I feel worthless or alone, I remind myself that even the little things I do have a spiderweb effect. I have worth, more so than serving others or being some obstacle. I can simply walk down the street and perhaps I'll be the person who some kid looks at and hopes to look like when they're older. My existence is so much more than just a give-and-take situation with everyone around me.

It felt like Pomni found her purpose in the circus, and it was more than just playing along until the end. Rather, it was to befriend the people around her who have proved in one way or another way that they care. Abstraction wasn't in vain to them. Lives mattered, and therefore so did Pomni.

In a vast, digital world where chaos looms like a grey cloud, Pomni always mattered. She just had to realize how, and it was much more than being an obstacle or a pawn. And so do we, I think.

[keeponquinning]

Feel The Rain Pour | 18+!! eddie munson x fem!reader one shot!

summary — porn with some plot sprinkled about. eddie's been having a day and you noticed, so you decided to treat him to some alone time with you. things get steamy enough not even the rain can ruin it, maybe even make it better.

preview voiced by eddie —

word count — 21.5k 😭

warnings?? — i mean, it's smut, like, 100000% smut so. oral ( m + f receiving ), p in v sex, unwrapped bc no consequences in fic unless i deem it so, do not apply in real life pls, dirty talk tho nothing too scandalous, use of the word c*nt??, light spanking, like barely there, more smacking.

notes — good god it's finally done, it's finally here, I thought of this smutty idea like MONTHS ago when it was raining. and that....yeah, the thought of, "Oh, it's a one shot, it shouldn't take long" was WRONG lmao it took ALL the time. If you read this, thank you from the bottom of my heart. If you LIKE / LOVE this, THANK YOU WITH ALL MY BEING. If you REBLOG / COMMENT / SHOWING SAID LOVE FOR THIS, you may as well be lucifer bc i'd sell my soul. i hope you all like this, this is my first real comeback to actual fic writing, and my god, it was hard. I'd honestly not read fanfics in so long, like, I think I was a teen, but then this tall white british man that put on a wig and stole our hearts came into the scene and it renewed my life of fanfiction with such ferocity it took me by so much surprise. i've read so many good stuff from fellow writers, i hope this brings even a small amount of joy ya'll brought me reading your stuff. without further ado, read my filth with a touch of fluff. and did i need to use the voice ai for this? yes. yes, I did. ( if you see any spelling mistakes, no you didn't, I'm tired )

taglist ! — @etherealglimmer , @inourtownofhawkins , @fanxxtasygirl , @lunaapis , @kuldxx1, @roxiehorrorshow , @twilightteeth , @paranoidmunson , @aconites , @selfishsaviour

He was having a day, that much you knew. You haven't been together long, but you've learned to see the signs. The tightness of his jaw, the way the light in his dark brown eyes seemed to dim and smolder.

There wasn't a lot you knew about Eddie Munson, other than whispers and gossip that roamed Hawkins High. The Freak of Hawkins was said often and that was all you knew of him, until you shared a class with him and was sat next to him, and for an hour each day, he was all you could really see. Sometimes with a turn of your head, other times out of the corner of your eye, despite yourself. It started off slowly, the first period of class, sometimes he'd come late and seeing him peek at your book to see what page the class was on, doing it enough times that you started to point at the page number for him. That was the first time he smiled at you, amusement and appreciation thrown your way and shit, it was nice.

The way he smiled and looked at you with those chocolate button eyes of his, was nice. And that was when you knew you were fucked. Because after that? Those small interactions meant everything, dropping a pencil and him picking it up for you, fingers grazing together sent your whole arm tingling. You were pretty sure you played it cool, a polite thanks and receiving a nod. He was oddly polite, in mannerism, but the way he looked and smirked at you was...something else. Something that entirely consumed you for the rest of the day, sparking up each time you saw him walk pass in the hallway, or in the cafeteria. Your friends were so oblivious to notice, even when it felt so pathetically obvious when your eyes would meet at least a few times during lunch. Yeah, you were fucked.

Then there was the day he forgot his book, and you two had to share yours, and he smiled over at you. Don't worry, I won't bite, he had said in a joking manner once your desks were joined, the book between you and you had just held back a bit in your seat. And even to this day, you weren't sure why too bad just flew out of your mouth before you could stop it. Though the smile on your face wasn't one of embarrassment, but amusement out of yourself. You were about to say sorry, blame it on being a bad joke, but he beat you to it. Only when given permission, s w e e t h e a r t. You looked at him then, his smile matching your own and his eyes staring directly into yours and words just died in your throat, giving a nod and you settled closer. You heard the teacher's voice, read the text, but understood not a single thing. Just the sound of his voice when he was made to read, the warmth of his body close and yet not close enough to yours and his breathing as he read along silently, when you dared to look at him, seeing his lips move along the words softly and the way your heart fluttered.

Fuck, fuck, fuckity, f u c k.

You were the one that kissed him first, meeting him after school after his Hellfire Club meeting. He had asked to borrow your notes for an upcoming test, your notes much more detailed. He didn't even have to have a reason, he could have asked and you would have pathetically said yes. Your friends were starting to notice, the two of you making more opportunities to interact, to acknowledge each other, and they spoke to you in concern. You didn't really care, especially then when he was still riding off a high after his campaign and you saw it on his face, the way he moved. His eyes lit up, smile wide and his laugh... You didn't ask, but he tried to talk you through it, you weren't there, but you felt you were with how detailed he went into it. You were never into the game, but he was so infectious and captivating, you listened to every word, every movement, it was like he was doing a one man show and you were the only audience that mattered. You didn't know how, but you knew you were the one that kissed him, felt his lips and felt his hands at your hips and pulled you close to him. Tasted him off his tongue and fuck. He never let you forget it, though, that you kissed him first with that smug ass grin of his. You remind him that he's lucky he's cute.

Since that day, you two were pretty inseparable, attached to the hip, it did cost you your friends, and he had felt a bit bad about it. He knew it was because of him, the Freak, but you told him you didn't care, and you didn't, his friends sort of welcomed you anyway and were more genuine than your friends could be. In that time you got to know each other a bit better, was able to read his body language more, and that's when you knew he wasn't his usual self, quieter than normal, more rigid. You'd hope to cheer him up, bringing him to Lover's Lake with some food and beer you had managed to sweet talk your way into buying — fake ID helped in that as well — and had hoped for a nice little sunny outing, yet the overcast sky didn't quite get the message and messed that up for you. "This is a bust," you let out with a sigh, at least finishing your food, throwing the wrappers in the bag you brought. "Sorry, I was picturing sunny skies and laying all warm, but..." you tell him, looking at him with an apologetic face.

He wouldn't have it, though, looking at you with a shake of his head, "What're you talking about? You got me fed, liquored up, got us all to ourselves... Nah, sweetheart, nothing to apologize for, this is great." He stretched his arm, his sleeveless shirt showing off his tattoos on his arm, flexing his ringed fingers, his jacket around your shoulders, seeing you shiver once and immediately throwing it around you despite your protests. You were stubborn, but he was slightly more. Offering a smile, you watched as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, holding you close and laid a kiss at the corner of your lips. Chuckling deep at the soft little whine that came out of you, a smirk on his lips as he grasped your chin between finger and thumb, his lips meeting yours in a soft caress. Both of you feeling the smile between you, feeling a wave of relief and he a wave of hunger. Pressing his lips closer, your heart pounding against your chest as he took a deep breath and lips parted. The warmth of his tongue slid across your bottom lip and your body quivered, accepting his tongue, his taste.

His jacket fell from your shoulders, though you didn't feel the cold, just the heat of his kiss and the taste of cheap beer and cigarette — he's such a smoker and before you thought it was gross, but now the taste is undeniably warming up to you. Probably because it was so Eddie, you couldn't help but crave it now. Meeting his tongue with every flick, every roll that makes your head dizzy. You kinda recall your fingers reaching for the hem of his shirt, grasping the fabric and pulling him closer. Fuck, it strokes his ego when you did things like that, show how much you want him. You knew it did. But you didn't much care when you swallow his groan like that his hand moved to your cheek, can feel his breath deepen, chest rising and falling quick. His other hand joins in, cupping your face and it's your moan he swallows next and he does, so eagerly before the kiss ends and you two part, lips wet and thread of spit between you.

Dazed brown eyes look at you, his body warm, kind of tingling. His thumbs stroking along your cheeks, a small lazy smile on his face. "That better, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice deep and husky. Always looking at your face, catching any movement, some sort of tell of what you were feeling. You were breathing deeply, seeming to be in a bit of a haze that he wouldn't lie, stroked his ego and he could feel himself harden in his jeans. He couldn't help it, seeing you like that from his kiss did things to him. His thumb brushing your bottom lip, catching your smile.

"Mmm..." you hummed, keeping close to him. "It's a start... Definitely a start."

His brows raised, his smile widening enough to show his teeth as he let out a breathless laugh. "A start? A start?" You chuckled, his lips peppering yours with kisses. You drove him crazy sometimes, though he liked it, "Can't believe..." he uttered against your lips, kissing you between his words, "..giving my best..." Fingers gliding down your neck, stroking the flesh lightly. "...and you say... It's a start... Killing me here..." Though he's still chuckling, along with you, it makes him forget, at least a bit, caught up in you. There's a lightness in him again, and he knows you can feel it, because he can feel it in you, too.

"It's a good start," you insist with a smile, lips flushed against his lips, teeth finding his bottom lip, biting into it and the groan he lets out brings in a wave of heat through you, pooling within your stomach, felt between your legs. He wraps his arms around you, around your shoulders unexpectedly and pulls you closer, feeling his lip slip between your teeth.

He sucked the lip, the stinging pain from that bite lingering, but in such a way it had zapped through him and went straight for his cock. Feeling a twitch there, jeans getting a bit tighter, but not unbearably so. Looking at you, he shook his head in pure astonishment, eyes scanning your face and fingers digging into your hair. "Shit," he let out, "Y'know what gets me? People look at you and think you're such an innocent little thing." You snorted at that, a roll of his eyes that only makes his smile grow wider. "I'm serious. Yeah, my girl is smart, kind, fucking gorgeous, prettiest thing I've seen..." His train of thought seeming to veer as his lips came to yours again in a soft kiss, fleeting as he let out a hum, feeling you shudder, letting that ego be stroked once again. "They think I'm so mean and scary... Like I bullied you into being with me... That I'm corrupting you. Like I'm gonna ruin you." His nose nuzzled against yours, dark brown eyes staring straight into yours, "That you have to or must be scared of me." His hand moved to the curve of your neck, thumb caressing your jaw as he took a deep breath. "Maybe you should be. Maybe I am ruining you."

He doesn't usually talk like this, which makes you listen to every word carefully until it starts to click. That lightness that had sparked within him dimmed a little with every word, and it's in that moment you realize what exactly had set him on edge today, the way he's looking at you, the jaw clenched again, it makes you take a deep breath and lick your lips. "Who was it?"

A strained laugh escaped him, dark brown eyes slightly flicker amusement as his grip on you loosened and he pulls away a bit. "Like I said — my girl is smart." You watch as he leaned back and rests at the palms of his hands against the grass. "Scott. Carver. Brick, the fuck I know, that meathead you used to slobber all over — well, maybe the other way around."

"Calvin."

He let out a scoff and rolled his eyes so hard, you were sure it must have hurt, but he kept it up. "Calvin, or your pal, Cal," a hint of jealousy in his tone, fingers growing busy as he fiddled with a leaf on the grass by his hand. "Yeah, that guy. Came up to me at the lockers, like some white knight trying to save the damsel. You guys hadn't been together since last year? Yet he sees you with the freak and here he comes running. Saying all sorts of stuff, basically I'm bad for you," he quirked his lips, the leaf now torn to shreds, brushing the remnants of it off his hands. "That I'd drag you down, you got this bright future and I, essentially," his eyes looking up at you. "...will ruin you. That I should let you go. Whatever I'm doing to make, a sweet girl like you," his hand coming toward your face, tucking your hair behind your ear, watching your head lean into the touch and a soft smile appears on his face, taking in an uneven breath. "...a s w e e t girl like you...want anything to do with me, I should just stop, before you turn into a freak, too. And sweetheart, he's not the only one that thinks that. Because your former friends? They think the same."

"Do you believe them?" He doesn't answer you, but you feel the stroke of his thumb against your cheek, he takes a deep breath, but his lips are still. Grasping his hand, you give it a squeeze, "Eddie... Do you believe them?" You watched as he licked his lips, wondering if your taste was still on them, if he was savoring them, gently feeling his hand slide away from your cheek, his warmth lingered though. Slowly fading as your hand found itself on his jean clad knee, fingers trailing over the ripped hole, nails trailing over the skin. There was a sense of a shiver from him, prompting you to move a bit closer. "Baby, tell me you don't believe you're going to ruin me. That's not what's happening here. They're just assholes."

That made him laugh, a soft huff of it as his eyes trailed from your hand on his knee to your eyes, a small barely visible smile on his face. "Honestly?" He inquired, and only when you nodded, he continued, "I dunno. I mean, no, it's not like I went outta my way to..." He shrugged, "Try and get you or anything. Didn't really think much of it, of us being a possibility. Shit, part of me sometimes wonders if its a prank by your buddies. Send the pretty girl to the freak and...be nice to him, kiss him because..." His smile wide as he gave you a nod, "Y'know, you kissed me..." You snorted and rolled your eyes, making him laugh, eyes roaming over you, a proud feeling coursing through him. "Make him feel lucky that...you were goodly enough to do that. And other things... Really...good things."

"What, just good?"

He laughed, "Doesn't feel good, does it, huh?" Referencing your earlier assessment of their kiss.

Which you immediately got, chuckling as you moved closer towards him, close enough to feel his warmth of his body and his gaze. "Touche."

Eddie let out a soft hum, looking into your eyes with a pleased little smile. "I do feel lucky, though. I've noticed you, y'know, long before the school year. Before being sat next to you first period. The thought of you noticing me? Being nice to me — that, wasn't used to that." Shaking his head, he brought up his hand, wrapping it at the side of your neck, thumb caressing against the hallow of your throat. "Most people just...are so annoyed by me," he let out with a soft laugh, an even proud smile. "Something I bring out I guess. Just set 'em on edge, not gonna lie, I don't hate it. Gives me a kinda thrill to piss off so many people while just existing. That's natural born talent."

He wasn't wrong, after all, before the school year, all you knew of him was what was whispered and gossiped among friends and classmates. When you thought about it, there was a sense of unease whenever he happened to walk along the halls, making no qualms of his presence known. Back then, you didn't think much of it, you figured it was just the way it was and something to be endured. No one had attempted to know him, aside from the other outcasts, the ones that didn't fit in. You supposed you did, though barely, you weren't one of the popular ones but you were somewhere in between. You didn't hate Eddie, you just didn't know him, though you supposed there was a part of you that was helpless to take notice of him, even then. Though now...

"But you," he continued, eyes pouring over you, shaking his head lightly from side to side. "I dunno... You weren't like that. Not like them. You didn't seem scared, annoyed, maybe a bit quiet at first, but..." He shrugged, trying to explain it, even just a bit. Thing was, he did expect you to be like your friends. Ignore him, mock him, but since the day you simply pointed at the page number after he had peeked so many times, he was a little drawn to you. Not thinking he had a chance, of course. But, he liked being close to you, even if just in class, passing you through the halls, the fact you'd have an actual conversation with him. He knew it wouldn't go beyond that, that was, until you kissed him. "I still don't know why you kissed me, though, ego stroking aside... Not that I don't enjoy it, I fucking do. But, if I'm honest... Part of me wonders if it's all leading up to me covered in pig's blood. Some payback for...being mean and scary."

"So... You think I'd fuck you...for a prank?" You took in a deep breath, raising your brows, "Wow, that's some dedication there... Because as you keep bringing up the fact that I kissed you, I also fucked you right after... And I don't care even if you were that big of an asshole and somehow deserving of a prank of Carrie proportions..." You shook your head, "I wouldn't do that for a prank. Goes without saying, I wouldn't do that to you, because," you cupped his cheek, smiling softly. "You're not mean and scary... You're kind of hot, actually..." A laugh shared between you two, as he raised his brows and pointed at himself, as if questioning, a grin slowly spreading on his lips. "Y e a h, you are. Ridiculously hot. It's very distracting, has been for a while even before I kissed you..."

"Y e a h ?" he asked, a shit eating grin on his face. Maybe he sort of believed it, recalling that odd time of sitting next to you in that damn class, so certain he'd be bored to tears, and then he wasn't. Not with you. Nothing was ever boring with you. His eyes glancing toward your lips, remembering that day, when you first pressed his lips to his — riding off his high after the campaign, after Hellfire, it wasn't his most sexiest moment, in his eyes. Which made the kiss so surprising, always being able to come up with some quip, some comeback or just be loud. But when you kissed him? Shit. All he could do was taste you, wanting more. Couldn't believe it. He still smiled when he sat at his throne and looked at the table, knowing with vivid detail how pretty you looked, cumming as he fucked you right on it. "Why'd you kiss me? I mean, I wasn't really...sexy right then... I don't think you're pranking me, anymore, I'm past that, but... I've been wondering. Stroke my ego for a bit."

"Oh... You were sexy then..." Laughing softly as you saw his confused face. "I'm serious. I was already...fucked over you, and you were..." You shook your head, "God, you don't even know. Eddie... I spent so much time around jocks, academics, party girls, all just making it their whole personality. It's their life and all they care about... Nothing else mattered, especially people. I'd be in a crowded room and they wouldn't care if I was in it. Even with Calvin, I just...didn't matter, y'know? All that time dating, he didn't know me. Just...this idea of me, I guess? He didn't care about knowing the person I was... Until I broke things off because I felt so lonely. There's no passion, no...joy, really. And even with sports, which, is the driving force in school, all they talk and care about, yet, I've never seen them as passionate as you were that day. No one's...genuine like you are." You watched as his eyes softened a bit at that, a ghost of a smile on his face. Had no one told him that? Were you the first? "And, again, you're not mean and scary. I've seen how your friends look at you. They'd follow you anywhere. No one mean and scary could bring that devotion. Loud? Yeah. Obnoxious? A good amount," he rolled his eyes at that, but both of you sharing a smile.

"You could even be annoying sometimes, but..." you continued, looking ino those deep brown eyes of his. "I'd take you over normal or, even the tall, dark, handsome type because those types are fucking boring and you are anything but boring. You talk, sometimes a lot, but at least you don't bottle things up like everyone else seems to do. Wanting to feel numb, playing their roles and settled to play them until the day they die. Without passion, without emotion, doing what they think is right for them, not what they want. I kissed you, and promptly fucked you, because you were different than anyone I had ever met. Very unique, very Eddie Munson and... I liked that the fact that I've never played the game didn't stop you from telling me every single moment of that campaign that day. Like you needed to explain it all to me. Like, you were excited and wanted to share that with someone you barely knew, it was..." You smiled wide, "It was very cute."

"Um," he interjected, holding up a finger, "I thought I was hot and sexy, I don't recall...cute being used to describe me, you're being very inconsistent, here, sweetheart."

A soft laugh breathed out as your hand on his cheek went to the back of his head, fingers grasping his hair. "Oh, but you're actually all three?" He gave a nod, facial shrug given as you moved closer. "And it's actually very unfair, making it hard being around you and not do this..." Smiling against his lips, feeling his grin against yours as you kissed him, feeling him pull you closer, once again feeling his tongue slide within your mouth with no resistance from you. The hand on his knee lingered, the taste of his cigarette greets you once again, fingers sliding along the denim, nails dragging against the fabric, slowly along his inner thigh.

You were playing a dangerous game the more you moved those fingers on him, his breath hitching, shiver running through him and an ache settled from his hardening cock. He should probably tell you to slow down, to get in the back of his van to continue, in his opinion, a pretty fucking perfect afternoon. All because, he figured out, you wanted to cheer him up. Because the thoughts of your former friends, former boyfriend got into his head... Your words playing in his head, now, the roll of your tongue against his taking his breath away. His hands finding the small of your back and pulling you closer. His previous thoughts of his van slowly melting away, pressing himself closer to you. Chasing the sweet taste of you.

He liked that out of the two, you were the one that initiated the love bites. Your teeth finding his bottom lip, applying just the right amount of pressure, sending a pleasant little shock wave through his body. A little moan as he shivered, grasping your hips tightly. Sucking in his bottom lip as it slipped from your grip, tasting the slightest hint of blood, feeling a throb of his cock, the lightest touch of your fingers grazing against the bulge through his jeans. "Shit," he whispered, bringing his lips across your jaw, seeing your eyes look down between you both, on your fingers teasing him. The pads of your fingertips sliding up and down the clothed length, feeling his body tensing, a groan bubbling at the depth of his throat. "You drive me crazy, princess," his voice soft, wet kisses pressed against your throat. You feel the warmth of his tongue as it slid out, closing his eyes as he felt your fingers copying the patterns he placed on your neck, a groan as the palm of your hand pressed against him. Rubbing lightly, yet with pressure. "Fuck, d'you know what you're doing to me right now?"

"Mmhm," you hummed, the fingers in his hair tightening slightly, as he growled and grazed his teeth against your neck. The feel of him pulse beneath your palm, keeping the slow pace but also taken by how hard he felt. Making your mouth water, an ache between your legs. "I do," your breath quickening, closing your eyes as your hand squeezed the bulge of his cock gently. The way he groaned made you squeeze your own thighs. You wanted to chalk it up to this thing between you being new and different, but the way he was able to arouse you so easily, to make you wet with a gentle gaze, touch, words whispered in your ear... That had to be something significant, right?

That, or maybe Eddie Munson just made you ridiculously horny.

Ever since you two had fucked that day after Hellfire, spread your legs so willingly for him on that damn table, a part of you was haunted by his cock. The feel of him, how hard and thick, the way it filled your mouth and cunt so differently yet so perfectly, it made you moan even now. Did Eddie know what he did to you? He holds you tighter, panting softly against your neck in a way that made you shudder. A whimper let out as his hand roamed up your back, his tongue finding your pulse, sucking wetly against it. The feel of his fingers glided over your shoulder, tugging the thin strap of the dress you wore — remember? You were expecting some warmth in the day. The dress was thin, flimsy at best, and perhaps more for his benefit, no bra underneath as he pulled the strap further, giving your neck a bite, making you squirm, a small whimper in your throat. You could feel his smile against your neck, moving toward your lips and melded into a kiss.

He knew you didn't wear a bra — selfishly it was the first thing he noticed when he saw you. The sudden cold weather making your tits hard, damn noticeable with that dress. Eddie prided in having so much self control not to latch on straight away, though that resistance was crumbling as you moaned into his mouth. He broke the kiss to let out a hiss, feeling your hand on his cock more insistent, "Mmm, baby..." he muttered against your lips, watching with a delighted gaze as your fingers went to his belt. You were so determined, insistent, and it stroked his ego so good that you wanted him that much. He kissed you again, teeth at your bottom lip just as you had, helping you with the zipper. "D'you..." he breathed out, groaning, your hand slipping inside, the loss of a denim barrier and the much thinner fabric of his boxers felt amazing. "That's... F u c k," he was going to say something, suggest something... "Fuck, um, van? D'you..." His cock twitched, right under your grasp. "God, you're killing me..."

And your hand was demanding, palm stroking his length over his boxers. The sounds of his groans making the ache between your legs all the more unbearable. "No... Not the van... I want you right here..." you uttered as your hand slid underneath his boxers, the both of you letting out a gasp of breath as your hand wrapped around his hardened cock, the feel of it within your grasp so oddly comforting, actually craving it since the last time you had him. With his help he lowered his jeans slightly, just enough to free him completely.

The thought of you wanting him so eagerly, it was frying his brain a bit. "You sure? If someone... Mmm..." That wasn't fair, how your thumb played with the bead of precum at his tip, using it to rub against him, his hands laid flat on the grass, trying to will himself not to shudder. Taking a deep, steadying breath, he looked at you, biting his bottom lip. "Someone could see us, sweetheart..." Since when did he care? Well, not for himself. "Someone could see you..."

"I know." His face awash in lust and confusion, your face moving toward him, "I don't care," you tell him with a smile, sneaking in another kiss, as if you could ever get enough of them. Taking a deep breath, you squeeze his cock lightly, a small groan from his lips excited you, head filled with lust, with need. "I'm not a sweet girl, Eddie. I'm really not—"

"Yes, the fuck, you are," he uttered in a hiss, swallowing hard, his brown eyes darker to you. "You're my sweet girl..." The sound of it evoking a part of you from the depth of yourself, the way he said it, gave you the need to move your hand so painfully slowly, up and down his length. He let out a small whine, so discreet, so easily missed — but you heard it, from the back of his throat. Licking his lips, his hand grabbed you. "My sweet girl," he repeated, "Just mine," his words sounding distant, feeling himself get lost in your hand.

"I'm not innocent, though..."

That made him laugh, strained and out of breath, but laugh. "That you're not, sweetheart. No, that's what Cal and them think. Just sweet and innocent and should never, ever be around anyone like me," his voice laced with resentment, bitterness, a grin that matched it on his face. "I'm sorry, baby... I let them get to me." He let out a small groan, hips squirming underneath your touch, hand twisting as your rose it toward the tip and fuck, that felt good. "They don't see what I see..."

"What do you see?"

He hummed, pleasantly, fingers trailing up the hem of your dress, pushing it up your thighs, hips. "I see... A fire in you... Burning bright..." His words soft as he took your lips in another kiss, soft, sensual, open as you met his tongue once more. Never resisting. Always giving. A groan pushed into your mouth as his hand cupped your mound, long, thick fingers sliding back and forth against your covered folds. You were drenched, of course, to his utter fucking delight. Digits covered in the warmth sticky nature of your wet arousal, he sucked your bottom lip, teeth catching it, biting deep that you let out a whine. In your stroking of him, you felt the bead of moisture leak out of him more, felt the pulse and throb of him. Spreading it along his length, you needed to make your hand slick, wanting to slide your hand all the more easily.

As if he knew, as if he could read your mind, he broke the kiss and took your hand off his cock and spit into your palm. You couldn't help to watch in a sort of awe, it should disgust you, if it was anyone else, it would. But you couldn't help but think of Eddie doing exactly this, when you weren't together, and the thought of him thinking of you as he used his spit to his own cock, to jerk off... Thighs clenched together, feeling his hand guide yours right back to his length, moving your hand slowly up and down him, releasing small moans from his lips. Each sound sending a chill to run through you, warming and cooling you at the same time.

It didn't take long for him to lift his hand away, letting you take over as he closed his eyes and surrendered to the soft, and god, fluid feeling of your hand. You really didn't care if anyone were to walk by or see the two of you, because as your eyes took in the sight of Eddie's face then. The poke of his tongue between his lips, the slow rise of his chest, the concentrated, blissful look of his face as his jaw clenched and nostrils flared as his breath hitched and exhaled... You felt a sense of pride, knowing you were doing this to him, pleasing him in such a way. Your hand felt so smooth along his cock, squeezing gently, giving him a slightly tighter feel. His hand on your thigh tightening, fingers flexing the longer you went, you almost felt godly. You wondered if his rings would leave bruises on your thighs with how strong he was squeezing, you hoped they would.

"Should I be... Baby, you're too good at that..." his voice strained, his insides on fire, especially with your thumb swiping across the slit of his cock. "Making me... Fuck, wanna kick anyone's ass who you ever...touched like this... Oh, fuck," he ended as your palm twisted around the head, quick, fast, making him let out a whine. Pleasure almost overwhelming. He could feel it, the slow crawl toward the edge, gentle steps toward that blissful state that you've managed to bring him to over and over since the first time. You've shocked him, he'll admit that, a girl like you? Doing such filthy things, and not having to be coached, or taught, just simply let be? It was the hottest thing about you.

You feel him pulse in your hand, eyes watched as he leaked further, in your eyes, just for you. His words sweet in their own way, smiling softly as you take in the sight of his cock. Such a pretty one. Not that you had a lot to compare it to. "Well, thankfully your pretty hands can stay clean..." A tease in your voice as you moved closer, while his spit in your hand was...unexpectedly sweet and highly arousing, it wasn't quite enough as you gathered within your mouth and let it drool almost perfectly over the swollen head, your other hand swiping the remnants off your lips. You say his eyes, how wide they got, how dark the brown. He enjoyed that, which made you all the more wet. "You're really the first to really let me...show my skills like this. My other boyfriends...they never really let me play their cocks, so... No one else been touched by me like this."

That seemed...so insane to him. Eddie's brows furrowed, trying to comprehend what you just told him. Because there was no way... "Not once, not even... Fuck," the way your hand squeezed at his base, pressing against his stomach as your fingers went to caress his balls, using your spit to make them slick as well, and giving them attention, his hand turned into a fist with his nails digging into the flesh of his palm. "That... uh. Fuck. W h y ?"

You smirked, the flat of your palm moving toward his sacs, sliding up and down them. Slowly. Gently. "They thought I was a sweet girl..." The way he laughed, breathless and strained, brought a wicked smile to your face. "Even in the heat of the moment, they thought I was made a glass. Too pristine, too precious to get dirty." Your eyes looked toward his shaft, the way he was thick, veins so prominent, he was a good length too. Just slightly above average, not enough to scare someone, but enough to feel deep, deep enough to make you lose control hard and fast, and more than deep enough to gag. "I was too precious to have their cock in my throat, too...." Looking at him, your best attempt at doe eyes — not that you could compare with his — but it earned a chuckle from him, the hand on your thigh squeezing as he let out a groan.

"Princess..." He looked like he was struggling, trying to regain some sort of resolve, to hold back. The talk of being out here and getting caught, it was...definitely exciting and the fact that you weren't holding back... It was fine to indulge a bit, his plan was still to drag you into the back of his van at some point before things got too...intense. But the implications of your words struck him, the memory of your ex-boyfriend trying to rough him up with words and doubts on the two of you. It made him thoughtful, licking his lips before asking, "So... Not even with Cal?" Fingers stroking against the flesh of your inner thigh, sliding them over the fabric of your panties. "Never...sucked his cock, like at all?"

"Not even with Cal. He didn't think I was that type. And, honestly? I think, with Calvin... He was just embarrassed he wasn't as big and thick...as you are."

Ah, shit. You really knew how to work him, to stroke his pride and make him putty in your hands.That settled it. "What a fucking pussy. Get down here." The way you smiled then, eyes lighting up made his own do the same. Cupping your cheek, his fingers caressed your lips a moment, and you opened your mouth, making him shiver as two of his fingers slid inside that warm, wet mouth of yours. Shoving them deep, right where his rings touched against your lips. Your eyes soft, begging, the warmth of your tongue pressed against his fingers, it made him groan, sliding them in and out of you. There was a shiver that ran through you as well, a shock to your system that hit directly to your cunt, the ache growing. He pulled you to him, fingers leaving your mouth and lips crashing against his. The kiss hungry, gripping the back of your head, your hair, swallowing the whimper that flowed from you. How easily he could get you to whimper for him. To think your previous boyfriends wouldn't appreciate that? Wouldn't strive to make you moan and whimper like that on a daily basis? Fucking insane.

Crazier, still, was the confession that they wouldn't let you suck them off. That it was too dirty for you. The hand at the back of your head as his tongue roamed within your mouth, your taste so addicting and making his heart pitter patter and his cock twitch within your grasp still. Shit. His hand moved to grasp at your chin, reluctant but determined to give you what you wanted, pulling away and dazed brown eyes looked into yours, giving a soft peck at your cheek. He watched as your eyes closed, the way you adored his soft touches, the warmth of his breath as he exhaled against your cheek. You watched as he took another cautious look around, despite your words, not wanting to put you at a disadvantage of getting caught, still caring, still wanting the best for you, even if everyone else decided that didn't include Eddie Munson, the freak. You didn't see him that way, though. You were making that very clear to Eddie, to his utter fucking joy.

Licking your lips, the hunger gnawing at you from the inside, you placed your open palm at his stomach, pushing against him slightly. A prideful smile on his lips as he looked at you with adoration at you taking charge at the moment. Eddie leaned back, spreading his legs as you settled between them, lowering down on your stomach. Obliging as you tugged at his jeans, lowering them past his hips for better access. He watched you carefully, cock rigid, stiff, a light twitch as you still grasped him at his base, the head just an inch or so from your lips. It made you smile, of course, knowing he was eager for your mouth, he often always was, but to feel it so physically was something else altogether.

You take the moment to drink in the sight of his cock. It wasn't the first time you had seen it, of course, taking every opportunity you could manage. But you weren't bullshitting when you told him your past boyfriends thought appreciating their cocks like this was...not for you. Being far from a virgin, you've had sex before, as did Eddie, but never really taking the time to enjoy it. Always rushed, always something to get over with and taking you home or to the party, all to fall back on the image of being sweet and virginal, to lie. To play the part they so desperately wanted you to play. Far from it with Eddie, the first boy to not hold your wrists when you tried to undo his belt and simply allowed your hands to wander into his jeans. Always striving to be himself, he afforded you the same, in every aspect, he made you feel brave and accepting of yourself in ways no one else before him had.

That's what you loved about Eddie Munson, everyone calling him a freak for being himself. Maybe you were a freak, too, for loving that about him. And wanting a bit of that yourself. Indulging in these moments with him, seeing the beauty of his cock — and he had such a beautiful cock.

You squeezed him gently, and he let out a slow groan, mostly trapped at the back of his throat, but you heard it, still. He was thick, enough to give you a bit of a stretch when buried inside you, making sure that no one else would feel the same. Your fingertips glided along the underside of him, tracing along the veins, following toward his tip. They pulsed beneath your touch, his stomach rising and falling gently, your tongue, the tip of it, followed your fingertips' path, closing your eyes as the taste of his hardened flesh sparked to your senses. He had such a unique taste, you couldn't describe it, but it made you want more as your mouth slowly ascended to the heavy head, eyes opening to see the bead of precum, so pearly white and waiting.

His dark chocolate colored eyes met yours, looking at you so pleadingly. His eyes could make you do anything, he didn't even have to ask. But the words, "Please, baby..." came in just a gentle whisper, and before you knew it, your tongue swirled along the tip, taking the taste of him onto your tongue and you heard him let out a groan. A shiver running through him that made him utter your name as if a thankful prayer to God. "Thank you," he said, and without even putting thought to it, your lips wrapped around him, his body shivering, a warmth running through him and a shaky breath shot out his lips. Tilting his head back, the feel of your mouth hot, wet, sucking him so greedily it made his head spin. "Baby... Sweetheart... F u c k."

"Mmm..." His taste grabbed at you, consuming you into wanting more. You love the way he felt, even just his head, inside your mouth. Loved the way he seemed so lost when wrapped around your mouth. Your name never sounded so ethereal than when he moaned it out like that. Mouth watering, a hand grasping at his thigh as you worked to get more of him inside you. Slowly at first, moving up and down, feeling the way he throbbed and hearing a curse from his lips. He felt heavy on your tongue, pressing the flat of it against the underside of him. Each time moving down, taking an inch here, there, not minding to gag, but you wanted to savor it. Eddie often worried if you gagged too much, tempted to pull you off, but not wanting that now. Wanting to show how good you could be for him. Feeling your mouth dripping onto him, trails of wetness sliding down his length, your mouth feeling full, yet not quite there, yet.

His hands came to your head, fingers brushing through your hair and holding them tight at the back of your head. Out of the way, for your comfort and selfishly, to see the sight of his cock slowly filling your mouth. "Jesus Christ..." he groaned, his eyes half lidded, wanting to close, begging close with how good it felt, your determination to take all of him so fucking adorable to him. Your little moans when you go down making him twitch inside you, letting out a soft hiss the more you take him, the tighter you feel. Making him want your pussy, to buried deep inside, to make you feel as good as you were making him feel... But then he catches how you squeeze your thighs together, and it makes him smile. "You're doing... Ah, fuck, so good for me, Princess... You won't stop, will you? Not until... Shit, not until..."

His words unfinished as you couldn't help but quicken your movements, lust clouding every movement and decision. You wanted more of him so you were going to get more of him. Feeling your cunt wet, walls squeezing around nothing and wishing he was inside you, squeezing your thighs together instead, moaning around his cock as his tip drew closer and closer to the back of your throat. Every throb of him was encouraging, loving how he felt so alive inside you. Such a wet mess, feeling your mouth water and drenching his length, moving your head faster, the more you could hear it, but you didn't care. Not when you were so close, because he was right, you wouldn't stop, not until — and you whimpered, eyes squeezing shut as you felt the moment hit, just as the head of his cock hit the back of your throat and you stilled. And he gave a strained cry, not seeing how he closed his eyes and cursed into the air. But you moaned, feeling your throat constrict around him, gagging, so obscenely, but not caring.

"Baby, baby, you did it, you did it, fuck, you did it," his words rushed and feverish. The sounds you made driving him crazy, enough to buck his hips, fucking into your mouth. Forcing his eyes to open, staring at you with a soft little whine, seeing you start to move your head again, bobbing up and down his cock and filling your mouth over and over, groaning deep as he hit the back of your throat again and again, the wet sound filling his ears. "...open, open your eyes, please, please, open... There you are," he smiled, a soft little laugh escaping him as your eyes opened, "My sweet fucking girl..." His other hand grasped at your cheek, shaking his head as he saw your eyes almost close again, "No, no, no, don't..." Another hiss coming from him, continuing to meet your mouth with his thrusts, a gag from you squeezing him just right that had him throbbing, a sharp shiver run through him. "Keep your eyes on me, alright? Yeah?" You nodded, prompting him to let out a soft, dreamy sigh. "Good girl..."

God, you wished he hadn't demanded you keep your eyes open, because the sound of that, of him calling you that, made you want to close your eyes as you let out a deep seated moan, vibrations of your mouth cascading over his cock. His lips parted as panted breaths huffed their way out of him, but eyes were on each other, sinking your mouth down onto him. His hand moved from your cheek then, grasping lightly around your throat and you really wished you could close your eyes, then. His finger and thumb squeezed along the sides of your neck and sending you into a dizzying spiral that sent your movements into overdrive, the hand at his base lowered, grasping at his balls, rubbing and giving them attention as you felt yourself choking on his cock. You were wet, soaking, aching between your legs. Your eyes glistening and hand splayed at his stomach, scratching along his happy trail, but looking at him.

With the work of your hand earlier and now, the work of your mouth? You were wrecking Eddie in a way only you could. His cock couldn't sit still, twitching, pulsing so deep into your mouth. His chest heaving, feeling his stomach clenching, a fire slowly building toward a white hot burning he didn't know whether to stay away to make it last or just run toward it. "Jesus fuck, you feel so..." He should probably say something sexy, or... Withholding? Something... Oh, the fuck he knew. "Oh, baby you feel so good... You're doing so —" A withering moan leaving him, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he muttered, closing his eyes, a deep shudder running through his body, tensing, he was close.

As if you sensed it, you lifted your mouth off him with the loudest sounding pop either of you had heard, and to your delight, a thick thread of spit connected your mouth to his cock, watching as the heavy flesh fell on his stomach and he gave a relieved groan. "Thank you, thank you," he muttered softly, squeezing his fingers around your hair. Sliding your tongue along his underside, he was cursing once more as you only moved your lips to his sack, taking it into your mouth and sucking him hard that made his body jerk toward you. An out of breath laugh escaping him, licking his lips, opening his eyes to look at you. "I'm serious, if you did this with anyone else.... I wanna fight them. I'd lose, but sweetheart..." Oh, your hand was stroking him again, a wrangled cry leaving him, lips trembling, that fire burning him from the inside, the faster your hand went, feeling the pulse of his cock in his ears. "I'm gonna fight 'em, I'm gonna.... Every fucking one. Every... Jesus H. Christ, you just.... Just gotta, mm," how did his hips started jerking to your hand? The fuck he knew, but it felt good. "...gotta....gotta take came of me after... Please, please, please, please."

Letting your mouth release him, your hand moving to his waist, lips stretched in a smile as they ghosted over his cock, lapping against the ridge of his cock before sucking him gently along the swollen head. The sounds of his moans encourage you to stroke your hand up and down the throbbing length, taking his head in and out of your hungry mouth. You're ravenous with him, insatiable, even. You can't get enough, sometimes not even at school and you have to beg him to take you to the back of his van. He always gives in, now that he thinks about it, in between the mercy of your lips, your tongue, your mouth descending on him once more. Fuck, he felt so good so deep in your mouth, your throat, hand squeezing at his balls. Rubbing against him, making him shut his eyes. "F u c k !" he cried out, wavering, panting.

You weren't going to let up, the both of you realized, it wasn't a conscious decision on your part and all Eddie could do was take it, enjoy it, fall deeper and deeper into the fucking bliss of you. You were moaning, your eyes closed as you fell into the rhythm of sucking him off, fucking your throat on his cock, you had meant what you said — you weren't innocent. Not how they all viewed you as. "Oh, baby," his words slurring out, jaw tightened and teeth grit together as he seethed. Your name flew from his lips like a prayer — for his sanity. He was throbbing so much in your mouth... Hitting the back of your throat so perfectly, his hips started to jerk towards you. "Fuck, fuck fuck, you're so fucking perfect." His grip on your hair so tight, taking the hint, stilling your movements as his hips took over, bucking into your mouth. Gagging on him with every fierce thrust. Your nails digging into his stomach, making their mark and a strangled moan ripped out of him. "—so perfect. Like this... Like this, so... So fucking... Jesus fucking...Christ, I'm... You're just... Fuck, that's..."

His hips picking up speed, harder and harder as you looked over at him. At his face, seeing the sweat, the concentrated look on him. He looked beautiful like that, lost in the pleasure and it made your cunt throb knowing it was because of you. Making you moan louder, the sound of spit drenching his cock hitting your ears, dripping, chin slick. Always having to be perfect, hair just right, make up perfect, it felt so liberating to let go, to be a mess, and Eddie was the one that let you do so. You wanted him to cum, you wanted him to cum so badly...

And with one strangled moan from him, one hard thrust that filled your mouth to the brim, he did. Followed by another, and another, every moan louder, every thrust harder, his body tensing so much, feeling his insides on fire and his cock? Fuck. White hot pleasure, making him whine, even whimper. You felt so good, so fucking good, and he was sure he said so, in a rush of praises that fell from his lips, all words slurring together like he was drunk. And in a way, he was. Of you, and only you. Cock pulsing, twitching as the tip was just inside your throat, you felt his hand around your neck again. A light little squeeze as your eyes looked up, he was lost, of course, eyes closed but you still didn't take your eyes away. He felt thick and warm, erupting in shuddering waves right to your throat that you swallowed immediately. Loving how it felt, sliding down your throat. He was the one to cum, and so much, but you were the one that couldn't help but moan, feeling your cunt throb and clench, moving your head up and down slowly.

His words had died and he was left moaning, twitching inside your mouth, every movement, he felt himself spilling so fiercely. You loved it, loved it every time and that in itself made him groan as dark brown eyes looked down on you. ".....princess," he uttered so out of breath, you only moaned, sucking at his tip and hand twisted up and down the slick shaft, working him through his climax, hips jerking toward your mouth once more in short little movements. Sensitivity playing its part, it felt good, feeling you so desperate for every drop of him. There were moments where you genuinely craved the taste of him, something so unique. He tasted bitter, at first, but after a while, there was a sweetness to him as well, growing such an appreciation for both you could never really get enough, only when you felt him shake harder than before did you lift your head away, lips leaving him with a wet pop once more and let go, watching as his heavy, thick length fell onto his stomach, pulsing, twitching right there.

You swallowed the remains of him, sticking out your tongue to show him, both chuckling out of breath as you give the underside of his cock one last kiss. "Come here..." he whispered, still feeling the burn course through him, the fire you caused still wrecking havoc through him. You obeyed, of course, moving up on him and lips immediately on one another. His hand was still at your neck, and he squeezed gently once more, a joined moan from you both, shared between panting mouths and another from him as he tasted himself off your tongue. You were a mess, his tongue sliding from your mouth to across your lips, licking the spit that adorned your chin, jaw, nipping the skin gently.

"You don't have to fight anyone, you know..." you uttered softly. Watching as he pulled back, looking quizzically at you, you smiled. "No one else... I mean, when it comes to sucking someone off, you're... You're kind of the first. So, you're the only one that's experienced what my mouth could do like that."

The way his smile widened shouldn't be as cute as it was, the way his eyes lit up, "Shit. Really? Fuck. I mean, that's sad, sweetheart, because that?" He shook his head, kissing you deep, "Fuck," he muttered against your lips, his hand at your throat lowering, sliding over your breasts, towards your stomach and hips. Hiking your dress up above your hips, "Did I taste good?"

"Mmhm," you let out softly, the cold metal of his rings making you shiver against your heated skin as his hand slid along your inner thigh. "You always taste good to me."

"Yeah?" his breath heavy, turning to kiss at your neck. "You're always so eager... I bet you're wet, huh? Aching? First pretty girl I've met to get turned on sucking my cock, princess." And as he moved his hand between your legs, he chuckled softly, grinning against your flesh as you let out a soft moan, his fingers finding the wet spot of the panties you wore and he let out a hiss. "Oh, baby, you're soaked... Jesus fucking christ, that's hot. All for me?" He didn't need an answer, palming his hand against your soaked, clothed cunt. "Yeah, all for me." Your hips started to move against his hand, making him groan as he stilled it, letting you grind against it, feeling his hand grow slick, your soft little moans making him fucking feral.

You knew it made you look desperate, shameless, even. But Eddie never made you feel embarrassed for wanting him, being desperate for him to make you cum. He seemed to thrive on it, just like making him cum did for you. Making you want to try different things, be adventurous when it came to sex. You never felt ashamed for wanting to cum, for having that need, and you fucking loved him for it. You felt him kiss your neck more, his other hand holding you around your waist, wet, sloppy kisses that only made you more needy for him. He was right — blowing him had the effect of making your cunt soppy and so heated, the first few times you thought it was a bad thing. That there was something wrong with being so turned on pleasing someone else. But every moan he gave, every slurred word, it hit you right at your core and your body was helpless.

But he made you see it as a turn on for him as well, making him feel needed, that you enjoyed making him cum that much. Then you started to enjoy it, any ounce of shame evaporated each time you were together. His lips found their way to yours again, cupping his cheek as you kissed him, swallowing his groan, he was so vocal after he came and that was definitely part of why you liked making him cum. More affectionate, feeling the flat of his palm stroke your back. His hand, still between your legs moved, making him swallow your protesting whimper. He breathed a chuckle into your mouth, giving you one more full formed kiss before pulling back and fingers grasped the waistband of your panties, starting to tug them down.

"Mmm—"

"—hmm?"

A soft chuckle coming out of you, seeing his teasing grin, "I thought you were worried about us getting caught, out here in the open?" You saw as he bit his lip, his eyes a bit darker than they were before. "Or, does that only apply to me?"

Eddie let out a soft groan, pecking at your lips with gentle kisses, "'Course not. I still worry about you getting caught. But," he let out a sigh, his fingers continuing to pull your panties lower, as best as he could. "Sweetheart, that was before you made me cum in your mouth," his teeth flashing with his grin. Growing wider at the sound of your laughing, chuckling himself as you buried your face at the crook of his neck. Humming softly as he kissed your shoulder. "I just —" He took in a deep breath, "—I'm nice and relaxed now to worry too much about it?" Pulling back as you looked up at him with the prettiest smile he's seen so far. "Yeah, I don't want you seen or walked in on or get in trouble, not so much me, they expect it from me, but you, no, absolutely not."

"I think I've proven that I'm not the sweet, innocent girl people think I am, though..." You remind him, feeling fit to remind him again and again if that's what it took — and yes, out of your own pleasure as well.

The laugh he gave was deep, his eyes warm, raising his thumb to brush against your swollen bottom lip. "Oh, sweetheart, you did." Nodding with his brows raised, he repeated, "You did. But, I still don't want your pretty wrists in handcuffs, well, okay, handcuffs not by my hand, or dragging me off you because I would fight if it meant holding onto you a bit longer." You hummed, smiling as he pressed his lips against yours in yet another kiss — as if he could ever stop. "But saying that..." A deep breath taken, dark brown eyes looking to you. "...I'm feeling...a bit adventurous. You're making me want to take all sorts of risks, princess..."

It was too good, grinning up at him, you couldn't help it. "Am I ruining you?"

That grin hadn't left him, white teeth a permanent fixture on him at that moment. "Y e a h, God, y e a h," he chuckled, kissing your lips hard, letting out a breath hot against your lips. "You're such a bad influence... You're ruining the fuck outta me. So mean and scary... I'm very into that..."

"Mmm, what a sweet boy you are..." your teasing words said with a caress of his lips against yours. Hearing him hum, it almost sounding like a whine made your heart flutter. His fingers tighten around the waistband of your panties, pulling them down slightly but not enough, not without your assisting him with it. "And...what risks did you wanna take now, pretty boy?" Wanting to hear him say it, needing to hear him say it...

He knew you needed to hear it, too. Letting out a soft growl, eyes darkened, smile stretched and turned wicked. His hand finally pushed your panties as far as he could manage, needing you to do away with them the rest of the way. That was the word, he needed it. Licking his lips, teeth biting his bottom lip for good measure, he gave such a wolfish smile. "You... On my face. Letting me taste and feel how messy you are, just because you love my cock, sweetheart." He moved back, laying further on the ground while his eyes didn't leave yours. Seeing your eyes darken and how hard you swallowed. Your body growing tense, and he swore, he could feel you grow hot. "And yeah, out here in the open, where anyone could walk by and see, and hear us. Making me forget and not care about the consequences of that... But I need it. I need you."

Every word he uttered, your eyes couldn't help but fall on his lips as he spoke, the sound of his voice traveling through you, hitting between your legs and making you throb. You nod, the words, I need you, too, just at the tip of your tongue but failed to slip off and into the air. Instead, it was said with the fierce kiss you laid on his lips, feeling a shudder run through you both. The slight feel of his cock, giving a twitch against your hip. He let out a groan as you pulled away, continuing where he left off. Feeling how wet you truly were, the fabric clinging to your soaked folds as you pulled them away, smiling over at him, knowing he would have enjoyed seeing it with his own eyes and in full view. But, you supposed, draping them over his cock would be the next best thing. Evident by the way he twitched under it once more, shared smiles between you both.

"C'mere...." he nearly whispered, watching as you moved toward him. The thin strap of your dress slid down your shoulder, reminding him that you had no bra underneath, that the dress was all that covered you and that was something he'd keep in mind. But, for now, as you moved toward him, taking care to not let your knees rest on his hair, pulling it back with one hand as your other hiked up your dress. His eyes almost twinkling at the sight of your bare cunt, a proud little hum flowing through him as his hands smoothed over your inner thighs. "F u c k," his words in a hushed whisper, as if more to himself than to you. His lips twitching in a smile, you can feel the fluttering in your stomach because of it, because he has that smile because of you. His tongue swiped across his lips, eyes still drinking you in. "Can't believe you get this wet for me, princess..." The way you glistened, he hadn't even touched you, no, this was because you were getting him off and that brought out a smile out of him. His fingers inching toward you, feeling you shudder under his touch. The drag of the metal rings against your skin, feeling yourself growing hot. You needed him. You needed him.

His fingers were mere inches from your folds, yet still, he looked up at you, brows furrowing, and you knew he was asking permission. You nodded, slowly, biting your lip and preparing yourself for his touch. It comes slow, at first. Delicate little traces along your folds, toying with the wetness, swallowing hard as fingers move back and forth, dipping along the wet flesh, drenching his fingertips in your heated mess. His eyes mesmerized by it, the feel of you shooting right through him and to his cock. Pulsing. Twitching. As if to thank you, he moves to kiss your hip, biting you gently there that makes you gasp softly. It made him smile, fingers now slick moving toward your clit. Slowly. Gently. Two fingers sliding over, making your hips jerk immediately with a soft sound from your lips.

You were so cute, he thought. Grinning against your hip, still, swirling those fingers against you, smooth circles, you felt like silk underneath his calloused fingers. Sending sharp shivers through you, closing your eyes as your breathing hitched, his tongue licking against the flesh of your hip now, his hot breath followed as he continued his ministrations. His fingers drove you crazy, yours were too soft, as were your past boyfriends, so soft, but his were rough, not clumsy, but skilled, playing you as he did his guitar. The feel of his teeth added to it, as he bit you with a groan. Your breath panting, hips moving so gently against his fingers, his movements slow, making you want more. As if he sensed it, his fingers started to pick up. Not too much, sliding back and forth, your slick helping in the smooth motions as he kissed your hip more, letting his lips glide against your skin, toward your stomach. Hearing your soft panting pick up as well, a soft groan against your stomach now. He loved to hear your moans... —

"E d d i e," you let out, in a warning or plea, you honestly weren't sure. But he smiled against your stomach either way, the soft breath of his chuckle hitting you, lifting his eyes to see that pout on your face. Adorable. Biting at your skin, feeling you shudder in his embrace as his hand moved. Slick fingers gliding from your clit and through your folds, a deep hum vibrating against your stomach. You could feel your walls clench in anticipation, your teeth biting your bottom lip and eyes closed. His fingers finding your opening, sinking them into you — slowly, as a growl settled from his lips — "Ah..." the word came from your lips, delicate, uneven. Feeling the stretch of his thick fingers, as if your cunt as impatient as you were getting, drawing his fingers deeper. "Shit..."

"Jesus fucking Christ..." the words said with a deep chuckle, almost dark, just as was the shade of his brown eyes as he looked up at you, a lustful gaze burning just for you. Gazes connect, though it was growing difficult, keeping your eyes on him as he dragged his fingers in and out of you. Walls clenched around him so tightly, as if embracing him. As if it hadn't been only a day since he filled you with his fingers and cock. Every gentle thrust sending a wave through you, a panting breath, a soft little moan. He was going to be hard for you, again, he knew, though he wanted to take his sweet time. Draw out the orgasm from you slowly, or until he lost control like he so often did. With a groan, he laid his head back, drawing your hips a bit closer, darkened eyes looking down your body, right where his fingers disappeared inside you. Cock twitching, pulsing to life. You shouldn't affect him like this, but you do, seeing how your stomach clenched the deeper his fingers went, burying them knuckle deep and curving them.

There was a low rumble, though it felt distant to you both. His eyes transfixed by your cunt, feeling you so tight around him, how wet and heated, tongue poking out, licking his bottom lip. You wished you could take your dress off, the feel of him inside you making your skin heat up, chest heaving with quickened breath. Pleasure, the kind only he brought out, swept right through you, getting lost in it so much that the thought of someone seeing you just slipped away from you. Your own hand moving forward, grasping his curls at the top of his head and clutched tightly. Just to have something to anchor you to reality, feeling you'd float away as his fingers continued to stroke themselves along your clenched walls, your moans a little louder each time, entangled with your panting breath. If your eyes were open, you'd see a flash of white light, though all you could hear was the sound of your sopping cunt drench his fingers, a smile on your face as a soft cry escaped you, body shaking at the feel of his calloused thumb swipe across your clit, bending forward as he kept doing it. "F u c k, Eddie..."

You couldn't see how he smiled, a mix of awe and wickedness. Dark brown eyes trained on your cunt, seeing his fingers at work. You really were...so beautiful like this. Every sound you make made his heart swell with pride. Calvin couldn't do this. According to you, that meathead wouldn't dare. He curved his fingers inside you more, looking for that spot, that precious that made you — There it was, your cries louder and your fingers pulled at his hair that made him groan in appreciation. "Shit!," you cried out, red hot, feeling your body pulse, thighs beginning to shake, and he only pressed and rubbed against it more, your jaw tensed, "Oh God, that... Shit.." You both could hear the wet friction of his movements. "That's...." Your words halted as his thumb picked up speed against your clit, movements quick, and wet, so fucking wet and the most primal sounds poured out of your lips. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, don't..."

"I won't stop, sweetheart..." came his voice, to your utter relief. You nodded, feeling his hand at the back of your hips, pulling you closer. Looking at you like this, moaning and wet around his fingers, the feel of you so tight around him the deeper he was inside you. The moans spilling from your lips weren't the only primal thing between you, his mind going hazy, the need for your taste growing until he brought you close enough to slip his fingers out of you, growling at the feel of your cunt so reluctant to feel him go, clinging to him to the last second. "I know, baby, I know, but I just gotta..." he groaned, hands splayed at your thighs and with encouragement, pressed the sweet, messy cunt against his mouth. Hearing your shaky breath, he hummed, first kissing your clit and tongue slid out, the flat of it sliding across it. His fingers tightening along your flesh, a gasp from your lips. He moaned, breathing heavy against you, the tip of his tongue circling along your clit, then, encouraging you to move, allowing his tongue to move between your folds, taste some of the mess that he caused. And it was the sweetest mess he's tasted of you so far.

You've never had someone so eager to taste you like this, it made sense, since you were always so eager to use your mouth on him. It was a delightful give and take between the two of you, and now he was certainly taking. You closed your eyes to the darkening sky, ignored the shiver of the cold, how could you take notice when his tongue trailed closer towards your hole, pulling you closer upon his face and you felt the tip of his nose nudge against your clit as the tip of his tongue push into you. A shaky breath seeped from you, causing your hips to rock gently against him, pushing him further inside. Feeling his tongue stiffen, the vibration of his moan traveling up against you. Every gentle rock of your hips has his nose moving against your clit, bring about gentle waves of pleasure to course through you, making you feel heat, warming you to the touch.

Eddie did like you like this, coherent thought leaving your head and only to react to what his actions were doing to you. He was the same, and fuck, you tasted sweeter the deeper his tongue was inside you. His name kept falling from your lips, strained, each time causing his cock to throb and a moan pressed against your pretty little cunt. He's admit, he'd not had a lot of experience, not a lot of girls, at the very least to the point of maybe having to exaggerate here and there with his friends, but your pussy? Your cunt? The prettiest fucking pussy he's ever seen, shivers running up and down his spine as you rocked it against his tongue, his mouth, your fingers in his hair, pulling slightly made him groan. Gripping you tightly as he slid his tongue in and out of you just a little faster. So soft and wet, tasting you, fuck, how sweet you were.

You were driving him crazy, and he was doing the same to you. Pleasure gripping at you, tightly, clawing at your insides as you started to pant and moan. He was reluctant to pull away, a small cry leaving your lips, desperate for more, but it was short lived as his tongue trailed to your clit once more. Lapping against it, flickering over it quickly and another cry left your lips — this time of relief. "Jesus fuck—" tumbled from your lips, his dark eyes on you as your eyes were closed, forgetting the world, just him, just his tongue, and as the cold metal of his rings traveled further up your thighs and you felt yourself tensing with anticipation.

He didn't make you wait long, you were so wet, so slick, there was hardly any resistance when he buried two of his thick fingers inside you. "God, f u c k, yes..." you panted out, thighs quivering as he curled his fingers as his mouth captured and sucked sloppily on your clit, reaching, caressing that special spot that made your hips jerk forward, a cry erupting from your lips. Feeling his ringed fingers inside you, slowly sliding in and out of you, your wetness claiming them and the pressure on your clit as he sucked grew stronger. "Fuck... F u c k, Eddie, Eddie..." your voice whined, as he moaned, his other hand moving, smacking against the flesh of your ass and gripped you there. Nodding wordlessly as he let go of your clit, stiffened his tongue against it, and you slowly started to move your hips again. His fingers stilled as well, sliding in and out of you through your movements alone, moving deeper, faster as your moans fell from your lips at the feeling of him deep inside you, angling to hit you there, rubbing your clit against his tongue as well. Fucking yourself on him, showing him how desperate you were becoming, just for him. You both loved that.

He wished he could grip himself, stroke his cock to you, but his eyes were hazy, watching your face as you moved, led by desire and lust. You were so fucking perfect, he moaned against your cunt, once in a while flicking his tongue over that bundle of nerves, feeling it pulse against him. Curling his fingers a bit more, stroking the insides of your walls clenching around his digits so tightly. "Such a perfect fucking pussy..." he breathed hotly against you, moaning as he sucked and sucked, feeling you tremble at his words. His girl loved to be praised, he thought with a smile. "Don't hold back, baby..." he breathed, taking a moment to raise his mouth at your hip, biting hard at the flesh, hoping to leaving a mark, praying to leave a mark. "I want you to cum, I want you to cum so bad."

You were close, especially as his other hand slid forward and gave attention to your clit, "Oh, fuck," you practically growled, not only feeling his fingers inside you, but not to your throbbing clit, the joint pleasure of it, concentrating on moving against his fingers inside you, body trembling as he added a third finger, you were sure you were going to come undone. Body tightly wound, succumbing to the waves he was giving you, this time, you did hear the thunder, eyes opening wide as you caught a flash of light hit across the sky. "Shit," you let out, jaw slack as his fingers picked up, thrusting in and out of you harder, making you gasp and pant. "N—oh, fuck, Eddie... Shit... Fuck," moans strangled within a laugh you wanted to let go. "It's...." Words were failing you, grasping at the back of his head, for a moment only hearing your own wetness ring out, coating his fingers, "Ed—Eddie, it's... Jesus fuck, that feels..."

He was lost in it, as were you, the sounds of your cries seeping from your lips so seamlessly, one after the other, was his only concern, even with the first few raindrops. You didn't feel the cold, just the white hot heat that was coursing through you, eyes closing once more, body stilling and growing tense. "Yes, yes, fucking christ," the rain was gentle at first, a light drizzle, easy to ignore. At first, anyway. But his fingers continued, his teeth biting at your hip getting harder, a fine mixture of pain and pleasure coursing through you, making you let out a loud whimper. Your fingers squeeze along his hair tighter, as his lips trail back to your clit, steadily flicking his tongue over it, humming deep against you. Giving you the jolt of pleasure you apparently needed, your hips moving, soon enough riding his tongue as he kept it still.

The rain started to pick up, raining down harder the more deep into it the two of you became, closer to unraveling you were. Dripping over his mouth, his fingers, feeling his free hand stroking the bare flesh of your ass. You could feel your hair and that dress getting wet, starting to weigh you down, a shiver running through you but not knowing if it was because of the rain or Eddie's tongue, or the way his finger curled and hit you just right, making you shut your eyes and let out a cry. Your body shuddered, feeling cold and hot at the same time. Did he know it was raining? He didn't let up. You could hear him moaning, stilling your hips as his lips wrapped around your clit and sucked hard and unforgiving, bringing out the most primal sounds from your lips. The sound of thunder drowning it out for the most part, gripping his hair, an attempt to pull him away. "Eddie... Eddie, the rain, I... Shit... The rain..."

But you only felt the clap of his hand against your ass, hard, a warning, letting out a gasp as you looked down. Dark brown eyes staring up at you. A whine left you, as he furrowed his brow. Understood, biting your lip and you give a nod. Starting to let go, his hands gripped where he held you, tongue flickering against you, catching your taste as you moaned helplessly. Breathless. Louder. Your walls clenching around his fingers as he buried them deep. That little spot. That perfect little spot. "Oh, god, oh...fuck, yes, right there..." Each breath you let out sounding shaky, him growling, feeling your thighs start to shake. That was the only movement he let you have, kissing against your clit sloppily. The pads of his fingertips stroking along that spot, feeling your body tense up each time, stilling your hips as it wanted to jolt at every stroke.

He knew it was raining, he did, it was hard not to. But was harder was for him to stop, his mind a haze with every sound of your moan. Every squeeze of his fingers, every taste his tongue could find. He was going to make you cum.

He was going to make you cum.

"Jesus fucking Christ," you groaned, panting for breath in the heavy rain, it pouring down at the both of you. Some of the rain dropped onto your tongue, crisp and clear, yet you could still hear yourself, even with the thunder, the flash of lightning behind your closed eyes. How wet you were for him, as he pumped his fingers harder into you, stroking his fingers inside you, harder and harder, tongue matching the pace as good as he could. The vibrations of his groans, hums, making you a moaning mess, crying out with every release of your breath. "There, there, there, fuck, you shouldn't be so good at that, you should be so good—shit, shit, there, fuck, yes—!" You couldn't help it, feeling yourself bend forward, over his head and grasping at the wet grass. You were cumming. Words escaping you, sneaking up on you so suddenly, not able to tell him, but fuck if he knew.

Thrusting his fingers faster, making you scream into the wet ground, your lips finding the top of your wrist and biting down. The build up so sweet, so painful, so needed, when you came it was hard and fast, a whimpering cry coming from you, your walls squeezing around his fingers thrust so deep inside you, as if embracing him in thanks. He groaned, kissing your clit, your inner thigh and biting you there, making your hips jolt slightly. "Good girl," he let out, making you want to cry. "You're such a fucking good girl, princess..." You hissed softly, whining when you felt his fingers stroke you still, but gently, slowly, working you until you could gather yourself, your body spent but still eager for more, moving against him until he slowly withdrew them.

He gave your hip a gentle kiss before slipping out from behind you, letting you lay in your stomach a moment. Your mind was in a wet haze, the cold water raining down making you shiver against your heated body. He stayed close, one hand stroking your ass while the other reached toward your face, still slick and coated with your sweetness, it didn't take much from you to wrap your lips around them, greedily, deep into your mouth, humming at the taste of yourself on them — mixed with the rain. It made him smile, nice and wide as he bent over and kissed the crook of your neck. "God, that's my girl," he muttered against your ear, you letting out a hum. Still blissed out, but responsive. His now free hand grasping your hip, bare and wet, you both were at this point. Squeezing your hip, he kissed below your ear, looking at the van. "We can get back at the van. I got blankets, we can—" But you let out a huff, turning around and capturing his lips in a kiss that took his breath away. "Baby..."

It wasn't smart, or logical, his proposition was actually kind of nice. You knew he had a mattress as well, for when he wanted to be alone, and recently, those included being alone with you. But the adrenaline was still coursing through you, still feeling good because of him. "Fuck me..." you whispered against his lips, and he growled, his grip on you tightening. His cock hard from watching you come undone just mere moments before. You could still feel your clit pulsing, a bit of sensitivity to be had. But you didn't care. You wanted him. Needed him. "Right here... Fuck me..."

Jesus Christ.

He should say no, that it was still risky, but that same adrenaline that ran through you was running through him. "My princess wants to get fucked in the rain?" You had nodded, pulling him in for another kiss, returning it in full. Shit. It was something he hadn't done before, in the rain, out in public. It was....enticing enough, but now, he just needed to be inside you. Feel you close, make you feel good. His mind a mess, as he was sure yours was too, he ended the kiss, trailing his lips over the curve of your neck, fingers raised to pull down the straps of your dress. You didn't have a bra. He remembered that, watching as you lifted yourself and your dress peeled down your body, turning to face him and watched as your breasts came into view. "Jesus...fucking... Christ," he growled, watching in time as your lips came to his again.

You felt cold, yet it was his warmth that sustained you, the wet fabric of your dress around your waist, settling yourself between his legs as he sat on the ground. You were tired before, the strength of your climax taking a lot out of you. But the thought of him inside you drove you forward, tongue sliding into his waiting mouth as you settled onto him. His hands reaching toward your hips, resting at the back of your thighs. Gripping you tightly, his hum swallowed by you in your kiss. He pulled your hips forward, the slick of your folds sliding along the underside of his hardened cock, resting against his stomach, brought a gasp from you both. You felt warm, heated and wet, even as the cold rain poured down on you both. You could feel the veins of his cock just slightly, as one movement of your hips turned to another, your hands moving to his shoulders, gripping him tightly. You had no business feeling this good, he thought. Making him groan and grunt as his hands were no longer needed, sliding them away from you as your hips continued, your folds parted and grinding against his cock.

It was a teasing movement, but he just couldn't stop, not yet, as heated breaths were shared between you two. He felt so good, too. You pressed down against him, movements first short and teasing, now longer, languid in their movements, a jolt of pleasure shooting through you as the head of his cock met and rubbed against your clit. He liked how you shuddered each time, how soft your moan was against his lips, soft and needy, making his heart race. His hands gripping at the grass below him, leaning back slightly and letting you take over. "You're like a fucking Angel, Sweetheart," he muttered, a soft whine from your lips following, as you went faster. It was his turn to shudder, falling deeper into what you were doing to him.

With the rain, it was getting harder and harder to keep your eyes open, for the both of you, leading one another with touch alone. The throb of his cock meeting the throb of your clit, you let out a soft whimper, feeling your pussy ache, walls clenching around nothing. He felt good, clit pulsing and sending shocks of pleasure through you... But it wasn't enough. Your hands raising from his shoulders to the back of his neck, tangling fingers into his hair as you kissed him deep, a joined moan between you. "I need you inside me, baby..." you whined against his mouth, a whimper coming from him. "Please? Please, Eddie, baby, please..."

A soft chuckle rolls out from him, "Fuck, love it when you call me baby like that..." How could he refuse? Releasing his grip on the grass, hands dirty as he moved over to your body, wet and slick with the rain, turning his lips to the side of your neck, giving a hard bite and a kiss. Your lips by his ear, humming as you let out a groan at the bite, his hands just touching your skin, feeling oddly warm against his touch. "Tell me you want it, princess... Tell me how bad you want it..."

You hissed, desperate, pleading, trying to move your hips but his hands gripped them suddenly, making you still. A pitiful sound coming out of you, chest rising and falling in short huffs. "I want it..." He tutted, and you knew that wasn't good enough, squirming in his grip. "...I want your cock, Eddie..." He took a deep breath, and you knew that was better. "I want your cock so bad inside me... Deep..." He let out a soft moan, kissing your neck again, making you shiver. "I want it so deep it hurts. Cunt aching for you... I need you. I want you."

Your words were sweet to his ears, enough for his cock to pulse and throb, wanting your sweet cunt as well. "Fuck..." he breathed out, tongue sliding along the pulse of your neck and sucking on it hard. Wanting a mark to appear the next day, grasping the base of his cock. "Such a good girl...." The tip of him sliding back and forth against your folds, and he could hear the gasp against his ear so crisply, even with the sound of the hard water raining down. He dreamed of your moans, your gasps, your cries, making him wake up harder than he ever had been before you. "I'm gonna give my baby what she wants... Will that make my baby girl happy?"

"Mmhm," you let out, pathetically, gripping his hair tighter, your breath hitched in the anticipation of it. Your legs spreading further, the thoughts of before, of being caught, you almost wished they did. That Cal did. Every one of your snobby friends that ditched you, that only cared when you wanted to be who they wanted you to be. To be with who they deemed worthy. You wanted them to see how happy Eddie God Damn Munson made you feel... Feeling the tip of him right at your opening, a soft huff leaving your lips, his bite on your neck adding to the feel of you sinking down on his cock. Feeling the vibrations of his groan against your neck, your breath hitching as you take him slowly. Thick. Bigger. It was always a stretch the first time he sinks into you.

You're tight for him, driving him hazy and lustful, his cock throbbing already and he'd only have his tip inside you. "Jesus fucking Christ, sweetheart..." he breathed against your neck, a whining brought out from you. His hands at your hips, only to be swatted away from your hands. It made him smile, a soft little laugh escaping as he pulled away from you, wanting to take control but knowing you were a determined little thing. Stubborn. He fucking loved that about you. "Okay, baby, okay..." he assured you, once again taking his hands off and leaning slightly back, your hands gripping at his wet shirt. Nodding toward you, he hummed, "All you, princess. Take every single inch... My cock is so fucking yours..."

There was a light giddiness at his words, giving a determined nod, your hand going toward one of your thighs, bracing yourself, as you continued to sink down on this length. "Fuck..." you let out, more to yourself than anything, every inch bringing a stretch inside you, feeling him shudder, feeling him pulse as your walls stretched to fit him, clenching so tightly as well. "Oh, God..." He always left you breathless, this time no different, and he watched you in awe — well, watched your pussy in awe, he should say. Swallowing hard, water dripping down his nose, watching, appreciating, groaning as he felt himself go deeper and deeper into you. So wet and warm. And Eddie, so hard and thick, your slickness coating him the further he went, and you were doing good, so good. Panting, whimpering slightly. "Eddie, you feel...so good, fuck... Baby... Baby..."

"...you're... Oh, fuck, you're doing so good..." he encouraged you, thunder rolling in, though it was definitely in the back of his mind. "Wanna fuck up into you already, so bad..." And god, he did, the feel of you so perfect. Better than he thought he deserved. "But baby, you can do it... God, you can fucking do it. I believe in you. Princess you always take me so perfectly... Shit. Keep going, sweetheart. Be my good girl, alright? Be my good—"

His words cut off, pushing through his words, a cry wrangled from both of you, your eyes shut tight. You did it. His good girl did it. And there was a sense of pride, feeling so fucking full of him, every inch, all of his girth, settled deep and entirely inside you. Rewarded with the feel of his hands at your hips, his eyes remained open, looking to the bliss expression on your face. No one's ever made him feel this good. so hot, so wet, so tight around him. "That's it... That's fucking..." He groaned, his voice lightly strained, pecking at your cheek as you let out a moan. Impatient already, feeling your move against him, entranced with the feel of his swollen head at the deepest part of you, that special place that no one else had touched. Not even by your own fingers. Only Eddie. And he knew it, the way you bit your bottom lip, moving back and forth, a teasing touch against that very spot.

You two were the same, you must be, as he growled against your cheek, guiding your hips to a more confident pace. Watching as you furrowed your brow, lips parting to let out soft little moans — fuck, he loved those little moans. Your cunt was taking him well, his cock moving inside you easier. You grabbed his shoulders once more, your breath coming out harder, faster. "Shit. Fuck. You're so—" A surprised gasp came out of you, he grabbed your hips, pulled you closer and pushed himself inside you, "Oh, fuck! Eddie...." His breath was hot against your cheek, closing his eyes as he settled into a pace, slamming his hips as deep as he could, driven by your moans, flashes of light running across the sky, thunder booming in the distance. But you didn't care, all you could care about was the sound of his hips hitting against you, of his cock slamming and hitting that spot, that fucking spot, that made your thighs quiver.

The way your cunt clenched around his cock the deeper he went, his fingers gripping you tighter and tighter. It was addicting, groans pushing past his lips with heated breath. His eyes closed, completely taken by the feel of you around his cock. So tight, feeling your pussy flutter around him. But Calvin's words hit him suddenly, and a growl escaped him, his hips snapping harder against you, causing you to cry out. It wasn't jealousy, really, that hits him, that knowing that meathead had you once. You two were kind of the IT couple in school, he remembered, envious, kind of. But him coming at Eddie like he did, as if being with him was so horrible for you, it made him burn. "Did your pal, Cal ever fuck you like this, Princess?" his voice deep, hard like gravel.

It took you a moment to register the words, so caught up in the pleasure his cock was giving you. Almost too much, almost not enough. The way his cock slammed against you, sending waves of pleasure to consume every part of you, making your mind hazy, only thinking of Eddie and how full he made you. Yeah, it took a moment for his words to hit you, to unfurl in your mind to the point of comprehension. When it did, your brows furrowed, giving a squeeze of your fingers in his wet hair. "I... What?" Did Cal...?

"Did..." His hips snapping harder, "Cal...." Again, harder, your body moving with the impact, feeling his cock throb, making him shudder with a groan. "....fuck you...." He hissed at the next thrust, squeezing you tight. "....like this?"

"...Oh, God..." your words a hushed gasp, an rolling whimper falling from your lips, words lost to you as he continued his movements, thrusting into you harder. He heard every word, your lips by his ear, every little cry, sob, moan. Your body feeling on fire, no longer feeling the cold of the rain pouring down on you both, still. It getting harder and harder the longer you two were fucking. Gathering yourself, you squeeze around him, shaking your head. "N—No... No, no...." you finally answered, a sob threatening to halt your words. "Not like this..." your words slurring, feeling how he pulsed when buried so deep inside you. "Only you... Only you've fucked me....like this...."

An approving hum settled out of him, an ease on his heart, moving down and biting your shoulder, smoothing it with a kiss. "He's never....shit, you're so fucking tight...." Losing himself temporarily with the heavily feel of your pussy gripping him so... fuck. "Shit... He's never....made you feel this good?"

"No..." a soft laugh escaping you. "No one has.... You feel so fucking good..."

"How? Tell me..."

You groaned, burying your face at his neck, finding your hips meeting his. The feel of him overwhelming, but needing more of him. That desperate need always there. Did Cal really messed him up that much? "....you're thick. So fucking thick... Fuck!" You cry out, as he had let out a growl and snapped his hips against you. Swallowing hard, you try to continue. "I... Um... The way you kiss me.... I get wet from your kiss alone sometimes... The uh... You touch me, more than he did... Get me wet, get me soaking... The way you taste me, eating me out, determined to make me cum more than once... Yet you're blown away when I want to blow you..." A breathless laugh comes out of you, and you can feel him smile. "It's... It's really fucking cute, sometimes... You care...when you're fucking me... It's not....just getting your dick wet... you care about me. Care about how I'm feeling... And it..." You were struggling, he had stopped, laying down on the wet ground, allowing your hips to move. A gentle rising and falling on his cock, every descent down taking your breath away.

"Go on," he said in a strained voice, his hands finding your hips, stroking the skin gently. It was difficult, to make out your body, the harder you brought yourself down on his cock, the harder the rain seemed to pour. Brighter, was the lightening, and that helped, that definitely helped, a groan falling from his lips at every flash of light that gave him the view of your breasts,bouncing lightly as you went, the way your eyes were closed so tight, lips parted, letting out moan after moan, trying so hard to come up with the words he wanted to hear you say... His eyes traveling down, seeing your stomach clenching every time you took him deep. He moaned, eyes half lidded, pleasure coursing through him. You felt so tight and perfect. There was another flash and he saw his own cock, sucked in by your cunt.

You were right, he did care. Eddie Munson loved seeing how good he made you feel. It wasn't entirely selfless, he'll admit. There was pride, a stroking of his ego when he heard the sounds you made. Felt how wet you were... The other girls, they... God, they didn't feel like you. Weren't as excited as you. Not as tight, not as warm, not nearly as wet as you got. They definitely weren't eager to suck his cock like you did, either. He'd fucked before, but with you? It was different, it was new... Watching you take his cock, bouncing on it harder and harder, it made him throb and pulse, a burning to cascade all over him. The thunder rolled, louder and louder, his chest heaving almost in time with it.

His cock would be your undoing, in more ways than one. The way your walls clenched around him, squeezing him tighter and tighter.... It wouldn't be long, and you were almost sad about the fact. "I..." you swallowed hard, trying to remember where you had left off, before distracted by the feeling of his cock, simply inside you, deeper, he told you to go on, but you could hardly think outside of wanting to cum. "....fuck, I love having you inside me, Eddie.... Shit.... I can't..." Your movements quickening, a sob coming out as you leaned forward, keeping him deep.

He hissed, his grip on your hips tightening, just holding on, letting you move on your own. "It's okay, baby.... Fuck, princess...." Your hands reaching around him, your face buried at the crook of his neck and feeling the heated breath of your moans made his eyes roll back. His cock was pulsing more, throbbing, wanting to feel you cum all over his cock. He wouldn't last long, the feel of you squeezing around him tightly, your sweet body moving so desperately on him. "...I love it when I'm inside you, too, sweetheart..." His voice barely a whisper, moving to kiss just below your ear with a hum. "Your cunt so perfect for me... Taking my cock so well... So wet and tight... Watching you ride it, take it because you love it so much, don't you?"

"Y e s..." you let out in a moan, his words making your hips go faster, the sound of thunder hitting your ears, but the sweet sound of his moans hitting you deeper. Making you whimper, encouraging you to keep going, the tip of his cock grazing that spot, filling you with that clawing pleasure. Sparking from within you, making you cry out every time it hits just right. "I fucking love it... How you feel... Oh, God, I love your cock so much..." Your fingers almost pierces his skin, bouncing on his cock once more, the feel of wet skin as hips collide, filling your ears and senses.

He could feel his stomach clenching, grunting, growling, as the pleasure filled you, he could feel it in his blood and bones, his chest stinging, inhaling deep the cold, wet air and he didn't care. Your words filled him with such pride, your cunt so sweet around him, he bit your neck, growling once more as you let out a cry. "Whose cock do you fucking love, princess? Hm?" His lips biting their way over your jaw, feeling himself throb and pulse inside you, "Baby, you feel so good," he muttered under his breath, rasping. "Mmm... Such a sweet little cunt... Tell me, baby, whose cock do you love so fucking much you can't help but take it like a good girl?"

His words and cock getting out a sob out of you, your breath shuddering, white heated pleasure coursing through you, feeling it to your fingertips, to your toes as they curled, yet your body went on, faster and faster, rising and falling on his thick length that felt so slick inside you now. "Y o u r s," you let out in a mangled cry. You felt him shaking his head with a groan, a hand slapping your ass hard, your body jolted and you let out a despairing cry. "But — oh, f u c k, baby —" you gasped, feeling the tightness starting to form at your stomach, not knowing if it was the rain or tears rolling down your cheeks. "Baby... Baby it's your cock—"

"Say my fucking name, Princess." His voice low, deep, his eyes opened and dark, only illuminated by the flash of lightning then. "I wanna hear you say my name."

"I..." A gasp escaping as his hand smacked your ass once more, the stinging pain lingering, a moan following as the pain mingled with the pleasure. "...Eddie..." you let out, eyes opening to see his face, not quite pleased, rectifying that as you let out, "....Eddie Munson..."

Fuck, that made him purr with utter fucking delight. Gripping your hips tight, bucking his hips up to meet yours. Making you pant, making him let out a guttural moan. "Mmm, that's right.... Whose cock is making you feel so good right now?"

"Oh, fuck... Eddie Munson's..."

"Whose cock so fucking belongs to you?"

You couldn't help but smile at that, a hiss and groan following. "Mmm, Eddie Munson's..." Your joined movements driving him deeper if possible, causing waves to crash over the both of you. The two of you feeling the other's impending climax, felt how you both shivered against each other's touch, working together. Matching each movement, each breath, each moan. You couldn't help it, the words falling from your lips, "...whose cunt is yours, Eddie?" The words almost a whine, his hips snapping hard at that, making your cry out. "Whose cunt squeezes around you so tight, loves you so much, gets so wet... Wanting... Oh god, fuck, wanting..." You felt your thighs start to quiver, a sharp wave washing over you in warning. Walls squeezing his length, feeling his chest rise and fall quick. Thunder, lightning, the rain pouring down harder and harder, steadily on the two of you. "...wanting..." You had to get it out, "Oh, god, wanting to feel you..." A strained whimper making you trail off, feeling his hips move, fucking you harder, faster, a sob rolling out of your mouth. "...oh...fucking....god...!" Growling, meeting his hips with the same fervor, he wasn't making it easy. "...wanting... to feel you...fill it...so deep...so much...every...every fucking drop—"

"Jesus fucking Christ..." he groaned, saying your name, over and over like a prayer. "Yours, yours, so fucking yours..." His voice gravelly, husky, "I'm gonna...I'm gonna fucking give it to you, too. Sweet little cunt gonna take every fucking drop, squeeze me so much, gonna...fucking.... Jesus, fucking..." Growling deep, he paused, reaching for his jacket that was on the ground. Wet, but still a barrier between the grass and you, as he he moved you to lay on your back. Kissing your neck as he did, sorrowfully slipping out of you, though he chuckled lightly at your protesting whine. "So fucking cute..." he muttered, kissing your lips. "Don't worry, sweetheart... You'll get exactly what you want. You always do, baby..."

You seemed satisfied, as he was between your legs, his wet cock sliding along your drenched folds. But for a moment, he was distracted, the sight of your breasts in view. A soft smile coming over him, as if he could go on and not pay them a little attention? Bending down and laying a tender kiss at the soft flesh, he let out a groan as his tongue lapped against the hardened tit, wrapping his lips and sucking gently. You arched your back, pressing it firmer against his mouth. The cold metal of his rings, colder for the rain and wind that started to pick up, make you shiver as it grasps your other breast. Squeezing, pinching your tit, an electric shock shooting straight to your core, but it only made you whine. Feeling his heavy cock against your folds, sliding over your swollen, pulsing clit, but your walls clenched around nothing. Missing his cock, needing him more than you did before.

It only struck him then that his shirt was still on, popping off your tit to take it off. You could barely see the exposed skin, how soft it looks, pale, but the ink of his tattoos had never been more crisp and clear to your vision in comparison. Your fingers reaching up to trace over them, as he rolls his shirt and puts it beneath your head, an attempt at comfort. It makes your heart soar, and eyes close in relief as he slides so easily inside you once more. A relieved moan coming from you both, his fingers come to your mouth and you open them without a single thought. Pressing his fingers inside, two of them, sucking and wetting them immediately before he slides them out.

You feel his lips on yours, kissing him back immediately as your hands find his forearms, clinging to them tightly. You find his fingers, the ones that were just in your mouth, touching your clit. Your moan is swallowed immediately, hips involuntarily moving against the way the pads of his fingertips swirl in little circles over it. His cock moving in and out of you in a slow pace, filling you deep, hiking your legs over his hips. His other hand slides towards your neck, wrapping around it and squeezing at the sides, giving you a dizzying feeling, the vibrations of your groan felt by him, making him end the kiss with a bite of your lower lip, tugging it with a growl. "Princess...."

"...Mmm?" you mustered, your chest rising up and down, the slow pace of his cock torture, the build from moments before was a dull ache, wanting to strike up again.

"Whose cock...do you love?"

Shit. A rising breath, a swallow felt by his hand at your throat, humming softly, "Eddie Munson's."

You were rewarded with a sharper snap of his hips, a sharp moan leaving you. "Good girl..." he growled, kissing your lips. Thunder was roaring, lips finding your neck as he bite hard, making you whine and yelp. Hips moving a bit faster, not too much, though it was difficult to restrain himself. "Your pussy feels so fucking good, baby... Fuck..." He could feel you squeezing him, having his hips stutter forward, feeling too good to resist. "Jesus fucking Christ..." Pulsing, throbbing inside you, his hips picking up in speed, groaning deep, finding himself chasing the high. His cock hitting you deep so perfectly, squirming underneath him, your moans and cries hitting his ears before anything else. "Oh, baby, am I making you feel fucking good?"

"Yes, yes, yes," and he was, that tightening building again, steady and fast. "So, so fucking good..."

He bit his lip, his cock not the only thing swollen at the words. He wondered if you did that on purpose, said shit like that for his ego or just...because you couldn't help it. He was afraid to ask, but now, right at that moment, he was led by your moans, your cries, and the feel of your fucking cunt as he fucked you. Harder. Faster. Ragged breath flowing between you both, his lips and teeth at your shoulder, biting on the flesh hard. "Fuck, fuck, f u c k! Such a sweet fucking.... Shit..." His words hot against your shoulder, he could feel his heart, pulsing and beating hard against his chest, his hips moving seamlessly, a continuous motion, and god, it was driving you crazy. Your nails had dug into his skin, sure to leave a mark, and the thought made him smile. "Whose making you feel so fucking good right now, sweetheart?"

"Eddie.... Fuck.... Eddie Munson..." you said in a daze, your back arched, white heat filling you, the height of pleasure, rising higher and higher. "Such a fucking...perfect...fucking cock..." you hissed, closing your eyes, letting it all wash over you, taking you to where you needed. Words falling from your lips, "Filling me up so fucking good, Eddie... Want so much of you inside me, leaking, making such a fucking mess..."

He groaned, loved it when you talked like that. It drove him crazy, you, who everyone thought was so sweet, and you were, at school, the sweetest girl... Yet with his cock inside you, pounding into you like he was now... He chuckled, "Such a pretty, filthy girl... Loving my cock so much... You never beg like this or talk so dirty with those jocks do you?" You only shook your head, making him groan, quickening his fingers on your clit, enjoying the sound of your cries because of it. "No, no, my girl loves my cock the best. Oh, sweetheart... I'm gonna fill you up so much... You're gonna be leaking of me for a fucking week."

"Oh, fuck, yes... Yes, please... Shit..." You should be ashamed at the thought turning you on so much, but you're not. The thought of his cum spilling out of you when you least suspect it...brings out a moan as his fingers flick from side to side against your clit, "Oh, fuck, yes, yes, yes, don't stop — just like that, fuck, yes."

Your walls squeezed around him, and you could feel him throb inside you, his eyes shutting tight as he rested his head against your shoulder, refusing to stop or pause, determined to fuck you, to make you cum as curses and moans fell from his lips in heated release. The hand on your neck moved, fingers gripping and tangling in your hair, each breath punctuated with a whimpering moan from him. "Jesus fucking Christ, my girl's pussy feels so fucking good...." Biting your shoulder once more, growling, you were close, he could feel it, right around his cock pounding into you. And he was so close. "Is my baby gonna cum? C'mon, baby, please..."

"Y e s, yes... I'm..." You felt it, then, the rise climbing up and up. The sound of thunder close and almost,you swore, in time of Eddie's hips crashing into you. "Shit... F u c k!" You felt your body shake, hips trembling, as did your lips, seized and form still as he pounded away.

"That's it — that's it, sweetheart, let go, fuck, you're beautiful..." And he couldn't resist, punctuating his hips, letting out a growl. "Say it, say whose making you cum, baby. Shout it. Scream it. Want the whole world knowing who's fucking you so good..."

You cried out, his name leaving your lips, first and last, as you were doing when he asked, louder and louder each time. The light behind your eyes, engulfing you whole, in that sweet, white hot light, drowned you. Your cunt squeezing him the tightest, making him cry out, but moving still, feeling your release drench his cock, the warmth of it driving him over the edge.

"Baby, princess, fuck, so good, you're doing so fucking —" He groaned, fucking you through it. He loved hearing his name come out of your mouth like that, loud, even amongst the thunder. "That's right, that's fucking right, let everyone god damn know I make you cum like that—jesus fuck," though you came, he felt your hips rise up to meet his thrusts. It made him let out a throaty laugh, his eyes looking adoringly at you. "Look at my baby... Wanting my cum so much, powering through... Don't worry, baby..." Putting all his energy in his thrusts, taking you deep and fast. "You're gonna... Mmm, fuck. Oh, you're gonna get every...fucking...drop..."

You were being greedy, because you did want it, your cunt sensitive but not caring. Every thrust giving you an after shock of sensitivity, making your body jolt but you didn't care. "Please, please, please." Your voice strained, but heard so clearly to his ears.

"So fucking polite... Shit..." He could feel it, shuddering lightly. "Oh, baby. Fuck. You're such a good girl..." His breath panting, cursing sweet nothings into your ear, making you moan. "Fuck. Shit. Here... Fuck..." His muscles tensing, cock twitching inside you. He let out a groan, "Take it, sweetheart, take it all...fuck!" pressing himself as deep as he could go, your hands grabbing his hips, keeping him there as you could feel him, thick and hot, spilling into you, over and over. He clung to you, as you did him, both taken with the feeling, him emptying himself inside you, and you, feeling so utterly full. He moves slow, coming down from his high, your walls still gripping him like a vice, milking him of every thread, every drop of him, filling you more and more. He pictures his cum seeping out, dripping from your cunt, and the mental image makes him shudder, lifting his lips to kiss along your jaw, toward your lips and you take it with a tired, yet so satisfied kiss. Soft. Passionate. Content.

His hips come to a still, the thunder subsides and the rain seems to lighten up. You're both drenched to the bone, but neither of you care as you kiss over and over. A smile shared between you both, your body limp beneath his, enjoying the moment, the afterglow of it all. Your eyes open and he stares into them, the smile on both of your lips widening, everything seems light, sharing joint kisses, a giddiness filling you both. It could just be the way you looked then, or just the feel of you a mess around his cock, or any number of things, but the words just slip out as he looks at you. "I fucking love you."

Your eyes go wide, and regret kicks him square in the face.

Ah, shit.

"...Eddie," you start, looking into his eyes. "I—"

"Uh," he cuts you off, eyes looking away from your face. A nervousness settling in him. "Shit, it's getting cold," he said, and reluctantly, he pulls out of you, both of you letting out a groan as the release seeps from you. He couldn't help but frown at that, as well as, well, t h a t. He really fucked up a perfect little moment, in his eyes, and the only thing to do was damage control. "I should take you home, your parents are probably wondering where you are..." Brown eyes looking at the state of your dress as you tried to straighten and cover yourself with it. Reaching for your hand, he held it, rubbing his thumb over the top of it. "Wayne should still be at work, I can take you back to mine and we could get that dress of yours for a wash. Can take a shower if you want. Y'know, so they don't ask how you got it wet and....maybe a little muddy."

"I..." you trailed off, watching as he was already getting to his feet, lifting you up, his hands working to straighten your dress, giving your cheek a kiss. His eyes didn't stay on you long, rushing to reach for his shirt and jacket, drenched as all fuck, wringing the excess water as best as he could. You take a deep breath, smiling softly. "Always taking care of me, aren't you?"

At that, he looked at you, and even in the rain, you could see his smile. "For you, Princess? Always."

You believed him, too.

You didn't talk to Eddie much over the weekend, or see him, really, just some late night phone calls which was mainly him playing one of his tapes and you listening. It was Monday once more, when you entered the halls and saw sight of him at his locker, Jeff and the boys talking to him about something that got his attention.

I fucking love you.

The words playing in your head for the millionth time since he said it, wanting to talk about it, but every time he switched it to another topic. Or a distraction by ways of a kiss. It was annoying, he was clearly embarrassed that he said it, and was trying everything in his power to make you forget it even happened or push it away. Which was ridiculous, considering....

And that's when you saw them, Calvin and his teammates, and it brought back to what Eddie had said happened. Confronting him about his relationship with you, talking about how Eddie would ruin you like you were some delicate flower that needed protection, even from an ex-boyfriend like him. It pissed you off. Because you weren't delicate, you were not made of glass, and the fact that the only boy that grasped that and celebrated that with you was the very boy your ex-boyfriend was trying to threaten... Yeah, you couldn't let that stand.

But you were always such a clever one, that an idea brought forth in your head, and oh, you smiled. Smoothing down your skirt, because of course you wore a skirt, you made your way down the hall, right past your ex-boyfriend, and even some of your former friends, and right toward Eddie. He turned to you, just in time for your hands on his shoulders and lips crashing against his. You didn't catch the way his eyes widened in surprised, but you felt his tongue slide into yours, felt the vibration of his moan and the feel of his hands on your waist. Pressing against him more, you could hear the whistles of the students around you both, some of his friends, some not. They only got louder when his hands went to the swell of your ass, smiling against his lips as you felt his squeeze.

You bit his lip, tugging on it hard until it slipped from your teeth's grasp and he let out a little groan. Your eyes look adoringly at him, genuinely, giving another peck to his lips. "C'mon, baby, walk me to our class? Can't wait to sit next to you and..." You purposefully trailing off, pretending to finally catch sight of your ex. "Oh. C a l, hey... Funny, didn't see you there," you chuckled, thumb swiping over your bottom lip. Turning toward Eddie, holding his hand. "Baby, I need you, let's go."

Eddie looked at you, to Cal, a bright smile on his face as he brought his arms up in a shrug. "She's a wild one," he said as he brushed past them, "I can hardly keep up, but shit, I'm willing to try." Following after you, your hand in his as you both left them in the dust, as soon as you rounded a corner, he sped up and grabbed you at the waist, smiling wide as you let out a squeal, you squealed!, lifting you in a spin and pressed your back against the wall and kissed you deep."You... Jesus," he laughed against your lips, shaking his head. "I wasn't bullshitting, princess, you are a wild one." His brows furrowed, "You know you're a marked woman now, yeah? That was social suicide! You have no hope of escaping that or going back to your friends — It's pretty much over for you, baby." He pulled back, hands on his hips. "Now and forever — marked by the freak of Hawkins."

You let out a laugh, lifting your arms to wrap around his neck, "Yeah, well, no loss there. Like I told you. I like your friends better, and...might as well, since I'm loved by the freak of Hawkins as well?"

His smile faded, a look of shock and apprehension on his handsome face, letting out a breath. "....ah, shit. That..." He closed his eyes, bringing a hand to the bridge of his nose, squeezing it. "Listen, that... You don't..." Bringing his hands out, palms towards you, he rationalized, "It's way too fucking soon to say shit like that, I know. And if that freaked you out—"

"It didn't," you cut him off, which made him raise his brow, unconvinced. "Okay, it kind of did, at first, but, I was still kinda recovering from you fucking me so it was all, kind of a daze." You snorted at the smug look on his face. "Fuck off. I never fucked in the rain before. It was a lot." You crossed your arms in front of you, looking at him. "So, what? Heat of the moment kind of thing? You don't love me?"

He took in a deep breath, chocolate brown eyes looking you over, head to toe and then back again. He could feel his heart, how it quickened in beat, a warmth that radiated when your eyes met. Your taste still lingering on his tongue, the urge to touch you, hold you, kiss you, and yes, fuck you, especially in that skirt you wore. "I don't...not love you. If I'm being totally honest... Yeah. Maybe I do... No other girl's just committed social suicide like that, kissed me in front of an Ex-boyfriend to be like fuck off. Get them jealous, yeah, but, not like that." He looked at you appreciatively. "You're kinda badass. And...for some reason, you...you wanna be a badass with me. How can I not love you for that? Or just... I don't know. I guess.... Yeah, yeah, I love you. But I don't wanna fuck it up, y'know, saying that too fast. So, if you think that's too fast or...you don't feel the same, then, we can forget it. And if I don't manage to fuck this up and chase you away for, maybe...a multitude of reasons, I can say it again...while not being in you at the time."

You couldn't help but smile at him, softly, gently. Your hand reached for his, fingers cascading over his rings and interlock with his, giving him a squeeze. "It's not social suicide for me. It's really not. It's just...letting everyone know where I stand. And it's not with them, it's with you." Your smile widen when he squeezed your hand. "I might love you, too." A laugh breathed past your lips as you saw his widened eyes. "But, maybe it is a little too soon to say it, officially. But...feels like we're on the track for it. My mom says she's never seen me this happy, and that's... That's because of you, Eddie. Because you make me very happy and... I feel like...my truest self with you." Kissing his cheek, you let out a hum, "Thank you for... Even though you said it, giving me the space to not feel pressured to say it right back. At least not now when this is still kinda new between us. Though I'm tempted," you both laughed, loving the glint to his eye. "I'm very fucking tempted."

"I'll take that. I can so fucking take that," he said, leaning forward, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss, both of you smiling as you pull away, swinging your joined hands between you, sharing a chuckle. The bell rang, causing him to sigh. "Shit. Well, first period, Sweetheart. Oh, and... I totally forgot my book. So, I guess we'll have to share, get our tables together and..."

You rolled your eyes, moving toward class and dragging him along, "No, keep your hands to yourself until lunch time, Munson."

He pouted, looking over you and letting out a groan. "Come on, Princess, you knew what you were getting into with my wandering hands the moment you got into that skirt...."

You gave him a smile, a wicked look to your eyes.

Oh, yes, you definitely did.

[botboots]

Hey! I'm probably SOOO late to transformers fanfics and one shots but I've come with this prompt,( I hope you like it enough to write it!) could you write Ratchet x injured reader, g/n or female. Injured shoulder, and maybe trying to hide it from him? Also in Tfp? If all this isnt too much to ask? Thank you for considering! Have a good day/ night

a/n: heehee this one was fun. the dialogue is kinda splotchy because theres a lot going on in my brain rn but!! hope you like it <3 also reader is cybertronian bc there are NOT enough cybertronian!reader fics out there and theyre very fun to write tbh. hope thats okay!!

ALSO! guidelines have been updated so before anyone submits a new req please read it! and please please request mirage/rotb fics oh my god im obsessed with it ROTB WAS SO GOOD </33

warnings: very minor injuries, pining <3 word count: 1059 (GN, cybertronian!reader) continued under the cut

-----------------

The purple and green swirl of the ground-bridge closed behind you as you followed your team back into base, the lingering energy buzzing under your plating.

Glancing at Bumblebee, a small twinge of pity struck you as he made his way over to the medical bay. The scout had taken a few nasty punches from Breakdown and clearly wasn’t feeling too hot; dents littering his armor.

“We showed ‘em, huh?” your focus was snatched when Bulkhead caught you off guard with his usual celebratory elbow-bump, sending you stumbling a little from the force. A sharp pain ran up your arm to your shoulder and you winced.

“Yea- totally.” sending the wrecker a strained smile, you gave him a half-hearted push back. He tilted his head, about to open his mouth to ask you something when Miko booked it over to the two of you, questions spilling out of her mouth at a mile a minute. All of them were something gore or violence related, asking Bulkhead if he got any pictures of some “hardcore massacre-ing”. The girl's interests were a little concerning, but endearing. Nonetheless, you took the opportunity to slink away and avoid any more attention. Angling your helm, your face scrunched up at the sight - and feeling - of the wound on your shoulder.

Too focused on the fight in front of you, a stray Vehicon had been able to sneak up behind you and catch you by surprise. Fortunately for you, Vehicons were mass trained for quantity over quality and didn’t have the best shots. The blast grazed your shoulder, tearing between some of your paneling to the barely exposed wires. It hurt like a bitch at first, but adrenaline buried it enough that it wouldn’t distract you - plus it was small enough that none of your team noticed. Now that you were back at base, though, the piercing sting prodded at your processor incessantly. You did want to go and see Ratchet about it - always finding some kind of excuse to be around the mech - but he was dealing with Bumblebee right now, and you didn’t want to add to his plate. Not like it was anything life-threatening, anyway. You could just try and patch it up yourself - you’ve spent enough time with Ratchet to pick up a few things yourself.

You stole a glance at said medic, who you only just noticed was looking right at you. Immediately you realized from the questioning look on his face, raised brow and all, he had probably caught both your reaction to Bulkhead bumping into you and the grimace you had made at your shoulder. Optimistic, you shook your head at him, giving the mech a meager thumbs-up and a “I'm-actually-totally-fine” smile. He gave you a hard stare, and your spark sank when he motioned you over with a flick of his digits. You begrudgingly made your way over to the medical bay. As you neared, Ratchet had already cleared Bumblebee and was shooing him out. The scout passed you, and your attention was focused on Ratchet waiting with a cocked helm and his ever-present RBF. Standing awkwardly under his gaze, almost scrutinizing, you huffed. Without a word, the red and white medic picked up his scanner, turning it on with a loud click and running the green laser over your frame.

“Really, doc - I’m fine. It’s nothing.” you tried, and failed, as he kept the device lingering at your shoulder. With a deadpan look covering his faceplate, he put the scanner down and placed his servos over your shoulder plating. You grit your denta to keep a pained hiss from leaving you, wincing when he felt around the frayed wiring.

“Nothing, huh?” you pouted at his scoff, his metal brows knitted together as he examined the shot that had barely missed doing any serious damage. “Sit.” he ordered, gesturing to the medical berth while he moved to grab some tools from a nearby counter. Embarrassment was settling in your chassis, but you did as you were told.

It technically didn’t take long to patch you up, but the old mech made it seem like eons to you with the way he was muttering about “some of the team having egos too big for their own good.” It only made the burn of embarrassment grow, and you ducked your head when he gave you a pointed look. Ratchet was nothing if not thorough in ensuring you knew when he disapproved of something.

Soon enough he finished up, giving the patched wound a once-over.

“Anything else you’re not telling me?” he questioned, the familiar lilt of sarcasm back in his tone. That at least steadied your nerves a little.

“No, sir.” you mocked, raising one of your servos in a half-assed salute.

He scowled, crossing his arms, “I’ll have Optimus enforce mandatory health checks every time you come back to base.”

Frantically shaking your helm, you raised both servos defensively, “Okay, okay!” you sputtered, “Won’t happen again.” His optics narrowed, giving you a hard stare, and you released a heavy sigh. “Promise.”

Ratchet debated it for a moment, still having half a mind to just assign the checks anyway, but as you kept your optics trained on his, the mech’s will buckled and he huffed a quick, “Good.”

You both were staring at each other for just a moment too long before Ratchet gave a quick cough. “Come back if the pain flares up again.” he waved you off as he made his way back to his usual spot at the terminal. You blinked, watching him walk off with a slightly heated face. Awkward. Hopping off the medical berth, you were careful not to irritate your shoulder and mess it up more than it already was. As you walked past Bumblebee he whirred to grab your attention. You paused, turning your head to him with a raised metal brow.

The scout chirped at you teasingly from where he sat, nodding his head way too obviously towards you and then Ratchet, who was already burying himself back in his work. Your optics widened, immediately narrowing into an offended glare as you jabbed a digit towards him.

“Don't. Even.” you grumbled, folding your arms and walking briskly away from Bumblebee’s poorly stifled, chittering laugh that echoed behind you. Your previous pity for the mech quickly dissipated as your faceplate burned. Primus.

[beezelarts]

I always wonder how old Rooster actually is in TGM bc in the fanfics I've read the authors have very different opinions on that topic which is fine of course but it still gets me thinking. (It's also not just Rooster but the other Daggers as well.)

In the TG Rooster looks like he's about 3 or 4 years old therefore he was born in '82 or '83 (The Weis twins were 4 when they filmed the first movie in '85) . That would mean that in TGM he's about 37 or 38, way older than most people think he is and I love it. The fact that he's so old makes me think about the other Daggers' ages bc we don't have any other information besides that they probably went to the academy.

In my imagination, Rooster went to Top Gun around the same time Phoenix, Hangman and Coyote did. However, I still believe that he's more than 4 years older than them. 6 years perhaps.

Perhaps he didn't want to go to the academy right after high school bc he decided to take care of his mother and spend the last months of her life with her instead. That could maybe make him 19.

I don't know what would have been if Carole died before he turned 18. His legal guardian would have had to step up, but for some reason I can't explain I can't imagine that Mav would have done that.

So, he applied when he was 19.

I like to think that both Phoenix and Hangman got into the academy when they were 17 which could make them 6 years younger than Rooster. I imagine Coyote to be older than Hangman for reasons I explained in another post.

What adds to my reasoning why I think that they are significantly younger than Rooster (at least when they first got to know each other) is the fact that Rooster is very sour about the whole Top Gun and academy thing (partly bc of Mav of course). However, I also think that Rooster has gotten quite a lot of shit for being, like, in his early thirties while most of the others were still in their mid twenties.

Perhaps they thought he was a late bloomer or something and wasn't good enough to get into the academy.

This is just a headcanon though, so don't take it too seriously. I hope I calculated all the ages and dates more or less correctly.

Thanks for reading this long ass post :)

[lycheedr3ams]

little blog announcement

TLDR: my könig fanfics from here on out will be focused on discovering his character rather than porn

rant below the cut

before you read this, just look into his eyes for a moment. are you seeing what i'm seeing? the pain and hardships he went through? the years of training and going to bed with broken bones and bruises and a bloody nose? the tears he cried alone because he had no one? can you see how many times he had to pick himself up because he was the only one he had? can you see the man who didn't get to live his dream, who couldn't be the one thing he wanted to be?

i have been thinking a lot about könig's character, story, personality, etc., and i've decided that i want to dedicate my fanfictions moving forward (for the most part) to things that only really make sense for his character. so, this means no porn without plot from me anymore.

there is so much porn without plot out there for könig, and i'm far from the best smut writer. there is an abundance of porn for könig, but far, far less fanfictions (even fewer halfway good ones) that actually have to do with his character. i don't mean disrespect to any fanfic writer, but i'm just very tired of the mischaracterization of könig. the same thing happens to ghost's character too, and several blogs have also posted about these mischaracterization issues.

yeah, some people might say this take is "too deep" or "it's not that serious", but i feel very connected to könig since i am similar to him in a lot of ways (obviously not in terms of being a killer lol). i have spent a lot of time lately just thinking about his character, and the more i think about him, the more i realize that there is so fucking much that most fanfic writers are missing about könig.

yes, we all love könig's accent, height, cock, and everything else that makes him sexually attractive. but what about the little boy who was bullied his whole life, who never had any friends, the one who dropped out of high school to join the army? the one who worked his way up from nothing to become a fierce and respected soldier? after all the porn without plot is said and done, what thoughts go through könig's mind at the end of the day? how does he interact with others? my point being, i want to dedicate my blog more to understanding his character. if you want könig porn without plot, there are many other blogs to find that from. I AM NOT SAYING PORN WITHOUT PLOT IS INHERENTLY BAD! Just that I don’t want to contribute to it.

I will still have porn without plot on my blog, but i will not be writing it myself.

this doesn't mean that i won't post könig porn. oh fuck no, i will have könig porn, but it will be in the context of a story and his character overall than just porn without plot. now, i might break this rule here and there if i have a really good idea, but i'd like to stick as close to my new personal rule as possible. i'm still going to finish the death's angel AU, and i will still be taking requests for butcher!könig cuz that AU is just so good.

but other than that, i seriously want to dedicate this blog to truly understanding könig: to getting under his skin and picking his brain and figuring out who he is behind the hood, who he is other than an austrian military sex symbol many of us - myself included - have made him out to be

if you disagree or don't like this, just don't interact. no need to be hateful. you'll get blocked if you're rude :)

[adirtylittleheart]

HELLO, welcome to my page... I am new to tumblr (so still learning my way around here) and I'm so excited because I think I finally found my tribe. I've been watching the triplets for about two years but, I've been relatively quiet cause I didn't know there were like minded people out there (or where to find them). I've seen the police, I've seen the complainers, but the wicked minded ones are here, so I'm happy now, lol. I gave up trying to find my tribe, but I think I found my home here. MY MASTER LIST: 💦One on One (Chris Sturniolo smut) A game of basketball has them shedding clothes. 💦Tick Tock, Times Up (Chris Sturniolo smut) Chris wants his ex back. What happens in the kitchen on a late night encounter? More to come... Please read the rules of my page and disclaimers below the break:

A little about me: I'm Everlee, 21, and a water sign. I enjoy fitness and working out, having a laugh, and finding a balance in life. I love the Sturniolo Triplets, music, writing, and animals. I have a new profession that I love, but it leaves me with little time so, please tag me in your posts - Also please feel free to message me, I love talking about the triplets and everything else in life. My page, my rules: * I do write adult material (smut/erotica/explicit, etc) * I do not write about the weirder kinks (no rape, skat, pee, incest) * I do not accept hate. At all. Of any kind. * I do kindness, so please be kind. Disclaimer: If you are uncomfortable reading anything sexual, please move on. You are not obligated to read anything on my page. These are just writings/stories. It is the only account I will publish fanfics on. Please do not copy or steal. I get there are thousands of stories and some will seem similar but there is a difference between similar and same. I also write for fun, nothing more, nothing less. They aren't going to be perfect. Some will be short, some long, some one shots, some longer. I am an adult with adult responsibilities. I have a job, a house and pets that I take care of so I don't have a whole lot of time, but I try and write as much as I can and will try and post as often as I can. I will read anything I'm tagged in - it may not be at that very second but I will read it. Final notes: _ If I have forgotten anything, please let me know (I don't bite...well...not in this case...Chris tho, hell yes I'll bite him!) _ Message me! _ Don't take life too seriously. Take that leap. Love the people you love and care about with all your being. I think that's all, lol. Love ya's!!

[tswaney17]

I Do Bad Things with You - Part 44

This part fought me at every corner, but I said screw it. Let's post and move on. 😅 It's crazy to think there are only 5 more parts left and an epilogue. The end of an era is arriving soon. I'm excited though, to have this one finished because I've got a lot of other goodies in the works right now. Stay tuned!

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​​​

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕

Catch up here.

Credit to @featherymalignancy for Cassian’s nickname, Cash. 😘

Trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault , language, NSFW

Word Count: 5,852

It had been a month since the car accident and their family found out about the pregnancy. The first week after the wreck had been rough, always worrying over whether she would eventually start bleeding as a late-term consequence of the crash. Azriel, her blessed husband, was doing everything in his power to keep her calm.

But she didn’t. Not a speck of blood.

Elain thanked every god for the safety of her babies knowing she wouldn’t have survived losing them.  

She and Az hadn’t discussed any further on his retaliation tactics, hoping that he would drop the whole issue. Escalating right now when they were about halfway through her pregnancy didn’t seem like the best idea.

Elain did trust Azriel’s decisions, even if she didn’t necessarily agree with them.

A sigh escaped her lips and she rubbed her palm over her more prominent belly. She was beginning to round out now, rather than just looking like an oversized, carb-based pudge. Her scrubs were starting to get tight and it was only a matter of time before she had to invest in a larger size. At least in the top. The bottoms still had some stretch available.

“Doctor Archeron,” her boss called and she whirled around to face him. “We have an incoming pediatric patient who needs a surgical consult. Are you up to being my second?”

Pediatric surgeries didn’t come often, so when they did, he always made sure she had the opportunity to assist—especially since she was the Attending and would be taking these cases on with the team of residents here soon.

She was already moving to his side. “I’m in.” With her nausea and dizzy spells, Elain had to cut back on some of her surgical procedures, unable to give her best results to the patient. She was sure it was the combination of the stress and the constant standing that always had her head feeling woozy. So, she took what she could, and then made rounds for surgical consults in the pit. Having built a strong bond with the residents, they were always eager and willing to grab her a snack or craving when she needed it, even when she profusely told them they did not need to do so. But Elain had to admit, it was nice when they did, and she made sure to reward them with her knowledge and expertise when handling difficult cases.

They slid open the glass door where the young patient was held and she stopped in her tracks. The little boy couldn’t have been more than four years old, with dark hair that brushed over the tops of his ears, and golden-brown skin. His eyes flashed when they entered revealing a green and golden gaze.

Elain recognized his heritage immediately.

He was Illyrian. Like Azriel.

She also read the fear plastered on his face, in his movements as he cradled his broken arm to his chest. Large tears littered along his lower lash line; something inside of her cracked at that desperate look.

“Hello, Kaden,” Thesan said in a kind voice, lowering the iPad to his side and looking directly at the boy. “We’re going to help take care of that arm for you.” He took a step forward and Kaden flinched, crying out softly as the movement tugged on his injury.

Her boss stopped his approach; a level of uncertainty crept into his gaze as he glanced at her for assistance.

Elain cleared her throat, capturing the boy’s attention. She moved the rolling stool closer to his bedside and slowly sat down on it, making sure he watched her every move. “Hi, Kaden,” she spoke in a soft voice. “My name is Elain.” She shuffled slightly closer, relieved when he didn’t balk at her approach. In fact, it almost seemed like his eyes flicked down to her swollen stomach before returning to her face. “I see that your arm is hurt. Would you mind if I took a closer look?” Elain held out her hand, letting it lie on his bed palm up in a calm, welcoming gesture.

When he hesitated, she added, “You’re safe here, sweetheart. We won’t hurt you.” She wasn’t sure why she said it, but something in her gut told her that it wasn’t just strangers he was afraid of. It was people altogether. And that concerned her, more so than just from a physician’s standpoint.

Finally, he moved his arm over to her, those tears falling down his cheeks as he whimpered in pain.

“I know, baby. I know. You’re doing so well,” she cooed, gently examining the injury between her fingers. From the disfiguration, it was obvious that it was a transverse complete fracture, the radius and the ulna having stacked on top of each other, and somehow not penetrating through his skin.

Elain sat wondering how the hell this child had such a severe injury, and it was then she noticed the scar on his other arm from a different, extensive wound. She frowned, glancing up at Thesan through her lashes. “Without a proper x-ray, I can’t be definitive on how extensive the damage is, but I’m certain he’ll need this surgically repaired.

The other doctor crossed his arms.

Kaden flinched.

Her mouth parted. Because that wasn’t just a flinch of fear. It was a flinch of abuse. Elain had no doubt in her mind about his home life. A lump swelled in her throat at the thought of it, and she watched as Thesan slowly lowered his arms to appear less intimidating toward the young boy.

Without thinking, she reached up to trace the pads of her fingers across his temple, sweeping his hair back before brushing away the tears that still stained his cheeks. Elain released a breath she wasn’t aware she had been holding when he didn’t shy away from her touch. “I’m going to put your arm in a brace to hold it still until we can fix it, okay?”

He didn’t speak, didn’t even shake his head to indicate that he understood her, but he watched her, those green and gold-speckled eyes wary, but curious too.

She slid the stool back, reached into one of the drawers on the moveable cabinet, and grabbed what she needed. Getting him into the brace was a whole thing on its own. He cried and screamed as she tried to be as gentle as she could, and every sound he made felt like a knife in her chest. “I know, sweetie. I know. But this will help, I promise,” she murmured, trying to calm him.

His pain broke her heart. Shattered it into a million pieces. Because no child deserves to suffer like that.

Once she finally got him strapped in, Elain released his arm but didn’t step back. No, she couldn’t leave him in this state. Instead, she brushed more tears away with her thumb, cupping his cheek in comfort. It was completely out of line in that patient-doctor relationship, but frankly, she didn’t give a damn. Elain wouldn’t leave him like this—refused to. So, she gave him the gentleness of her touch, the security she knew he didn’t receive from his parents, wherever the fuck they might be.

“Elain,” Thesan said, catching her gaze. “Can we speak in the hall?”

She nodded, swiping her thumb over his cheek one last time. “We’ll be back, Kaden,” she murmured, resisting the urge to kiss the top of his head. Those damn hormones were really getting to her.

He slid the door shut behind them, turning to face her. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

She knew he didn’t mean her actions. “The severity of his fracture looks like it came from a large fall. Maybe down a staircase. Did you notice the scar on his other arm?”

“I did,” Thesan told her, eyes going hard. It wasn’t a look she saw on him often, but child abuse cases were always difficult. “It looked like something that required stitching but didn’t receive it. It’s too harsh to have been healed properly.”

She grunted in agreement. “I don’t think we’ll be able to get an x-ray from him. Not when he’s this terrified. I know he needs surgery without it, but maybe we can grab an x-ray after we put him under?” Her boss nodded his head in a way that said he was on the same wavelength as her. “Where are his parents? How did he get brought in here?”

“I’m about to go find out from Viviane. Hopefully she or one of the other nurses can give us more detail.”

“I’ll reach out to social services and see if I can get our social worker from child protective services down here quickly. I suspect child abuse and we’re going to need somebody to sign off on his surgery,” Elain said, already pulling her phone from the front of her scrubs.

He reached out and squeezed her shoulder. “You did good in there, Elain. He wouldn’t have let me get near him, but you connected with him.” He paused, eyes flicking between hers. “It was that maternal instinct coming out. I could see it in how you handled him—comforted him. Excellent work.”

She couldn’t stop the blush from rising to her cheeks. “Thank you, Thesan.”

Gripping her once more, he strode away, heading for the nurses’ station to speak with them about their patient.

Elain glanced back over her shoulder at the child in the room behind her, his body curled up on his side as best as he could with his arm braced. His little hand fisted the sheets, eyes having drifted close. Her heart hammered in her chest. What else could he have been through that they didn’t know? Scrolling through the phone, she tapped on the name of their CPS contact.

It rang twice before she picked up. “Hey,” Elain said quietly. “I need you at the hospital. Now.”

A pause before she said. “Give me fifteen minutes,” and hung up.

She stared through that glass door, lips pulling down into a sad frown. Something drew her toward him, and Elain was determined to figure out why.

~~~

Elain was waiting for the CPS worker at the front of the nurses’ station. She and Thesan had a quick convo where he informed her of everything they knew about their patient, which turned out, wasn’t a whole lot. He had been sent over from the hospital in Illyria, not having a pediatric surgeon on hand to help him. Technically, she and Thesan also weren’t pediatric surgeons, but they’d been trained in those patients to be able to provide him the care he needed.

Her attention snagged on the tall woman walking into the building, her pace quick and determined.

Elain met her halfway. “Emerie,” she murmured, shaking her hand. “Thanks for coming so quickly.”

“You sounded urgent on the phone.”

They strode through the hospital to the elevators. “It is. My patient’s name is Kaden. He has a transverse complete fracture that requires surgery.”

Emerie flicked her thick, dark plait of hair over her shoulder. “Parents won’t sign off on it?”

“Parents aren’t here,” Elain said, pressing the button for floor three to take them to the pediatrics department. “His neighbor called it in when she got home from the grocery store. Told the EMTs that she heard his screams and just called for help.”

“How old is he?”

The doors slid open and they stepped out of the elevator. “Just over four.” She directed them toward his door. “There’s something else,” she started, looking over at the boy in question. “He won’t speak and seems very intimidated by people. Fearful of them. I suspect he’s a victim of child abuse. I was barely able to get the brace on him, so we haven’t attempted an x-ray yet.”

Emerie pursed her lips in contemplation. “What’s your plan?”

“We want to do the x-ray while he’s under. It’s obvious he will need his facture repaired surgically, but we won’t get a clear picture of the damage until we get him prepped.”

She nodded. “I can get on board with that after I try and talk with him of course.” Emerie looked in at the child lying on the bed. “You said he’s just over four?” she asked.

“Yes. His chart shows his birthday was a few months ago.”

Those dark eyes found hers. “He looks awfully small for a four-year-old.”

Elain’s heart ached in her chest. “Yes, we were thinking he appeared a bit malnourished.”

“Do me a favor. When you get him in for x-rays, get some of his body. I want to see if any previous injuries can sanction the abuse.”

Elain’s chin dipped in confirmation as she grabbed the handle of the door and slid it open. “Hello, Kaden,” she said, voice softening. “I’ve brought a friend who wants to talk with you.”

His head turned to look over at them, eyes going straight to Emerie. He shuffled on the bed, curling into himself.

She shared a glance with Elain before moving forward, cautiously. “Hello, Kaden. My name is Emerie. I’m here to help you.”

He blinked at her, not unfurling from his fetal-like position.

Emerie frowned, returning her attention to her. “Do you think he might be deaf?”

Elain’s brows shot into her hairline. She hadn’t thought that at all. “He seems like he can hear us, but let me see,” she said, turning to sign can you hear me at the little boy.

No response.

She shook her head. “I don’t think he’s deaf. Just mute.”

The social worker’s mouth turned down further. “I’ll sign off on the surgery. I can see the injury from here. Has anyone tried to contact his parents?”

“There’s a number for a father, but it’s been disconnected. I can give you his file to see if there’s anything you can pull from it.” Emerie gripped her arm in thanks, moving to sit down on the rolling stool that she sat upon earlier. “I’m going to call up to the OR to get a room prepped. A nurse will be in with the forms to sign in a bit.”

She gave Kaden a small smile, hoping it would bring one to his face, but he just stared at her, little hands fisting the bedsheets. Elain felt an undeniable pull toward the child. A deep-seated need to help him—care for him. She just needed to figure out how.

~~~

Four remodeled fractures.

Elain sat in the chair next to Kaden’s bed as she looked through the X-rays they took of him. She pulled out four, severe remodeled fractures—now five with the one they just repaired. How the fuck did a child of four have five fractures in his lifetime already?

Anger, unlike anything she’d ever experienced before burned inside of her like a volcano readying to erupt. It was obvious that this boy had experienced such tremendous pain and horrors in his young life. She couldn’t help but compare him to her husband, born into cruelty. Abused and neglected. Left to fend for himself.

It left a dangerous spot in her heart. One where she wasn’t sure if she could untangle him from.

The door slid open and Emerie popped in, her dark eyes glancing toward the sleeping child. “How’d it go?” she whispered. Getting him under had taken some work. The anesthesiologist ordered him to be held down so he could put the mask on his crying face when she entered.

“Do not hold him down,” Elain had growled, storming into the operating room after having scrubbed down. The surgical nurses seemed to back up at the look on her face. Even the two residents assigned to the surgery hesitated. She’d moved to his side, fingers stroking his soft cheek. “Hi, sweet boy,” she murmured, voice softening. “I’m going to fix your arm now, but you need to go to sleep first. You don’t want to be awake for this.” Her thumb made a gentle caress back and forth on his face. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

She made quick work wiping his tears away, humming under her breath a simple lullaby. Elain waited until he was calm, silver-lined eyes drying as his eyelids slowly lowered without her even using the gas on him. She knew he was likely exhausted, having gone hours without much sleep. The constant crying would’ve drained him too. So, only when he finally shut his eyes, did she take the mask from the anesthesiologist and place it over his face.

The door clicking shut behind Emerie pulled her from her memory. “Getting him under was rough, but I managed to get it done.” She held out the X-rays for her. “He’s had four other fractures that I found. Two hairline ones on his third and fourth ribs, one to his left femur, and one…” her words trailed off, unable to spit out the location of that last injury.

Emerie took a seat on the stool, facing her. “Where was the last one, Elain?”

She took a ragged breath. “On the back of his skull.”

“Any ideas on how he got it?”

Elain sat back in the chair she’d brought in. “Looks like he might’ve collided with something. Probably pushed backward and fell into a table or something similar.”

“They were set properly, though?”

She nodded. “Yes, the last one looks to be about a year old now. The others are about two.” Elain frowned. “The first four were cared for, but this time he was left alone to deal with it. What changed?” she wondered more to herself than anything, but it appeared the social worker had the answer.

Emerie handed her another file. “His mother died. It wasn’t in his medical report, but I had some people do a little digging and found the name of his birth parents. Lorenzo and Anastasia Salazar.” Her lips turned down in the corner. “Reviewing everything you’ve given me and the reports I’ve pulled, I’d theorize the abuse came from the father and when he left, the mother took him to seek medical attention off books.”

“Off books?” Elain asked, brows furrowing.

“There’s nothing in his medical history about the abuse. No flags have ever been attached to his profile in the system. So, either they paid off whatever doctor they used, or they had somebody private doing at-home calls.”

Like Azriel’s personal medical team…She was careful to keep her face neutral, but Elain had a feeling that Lorenzo was a part of some gang, if not the Illyrian Mob itself. Sighing, she looked back at the sleeping boy, her heart racing in her chest.

“Should I be looking into other options for him aside from foster care?” Emerie asked carefully, eyes flicking down to her pregnant stomach and then back up.

Elain’s dark gaze met hers. “I don’t know,” she said earnestly.

The social worker seemed to understand. “Tell you what. I’ll prepare both options for you and then you can decide what you want to do after you talk to your husband.”

Something inside her chest unlocked at her words.

A groggy sigh caught their attention and they twisted to see Kaden’s eyes fluttering open. His small whimper had Elain moving, sitting on the edge of his bed to run her fingers through his dark hair.

“Hello, sweetheart,” she murmured.

He looked at her with large, hazel, and green eyes before curling into her side, cuddling close to her.

It took all of Elain’s willpower to not sob in elation that he felt comfortable with her now. How long had he gone without love or affection that he would cling to a near stranger who showed him any sort of warmth?

Emerie smiled, rising from her chair. “I’m going to go start handling some paperwork. Call me if you need anything in the meantime or if anything changes.”

She waved her off, resituating herself on his bed as she gave herself a few more seconds of snuggling this precious boy.

~~~~~

Azriel knew something was bothering Elain the moment she stepped through the elevator door. He could read it on her face, in the half-assed smile she shot him. In the way she picked at the food on her dinner plate.

It frustrated him that when he asked her about work, knowing something was wrong, she lied to his face and said it was fine. It wasn’t fine. Nothing about the way his wife was acting was fine. He just wished she would tell him what it was.

“You need to eat, El,” he tried, keeping his voice soft.

She pushed her plate back. “I’m not hungry.”

He tried not to get irritated—he knew Elain was carrying a lot on her plate with her job and the pregnancy. But he was done with her not being honest with him. Azriel sighed, setting his utensils down on his plate with a clank. “All right. I need you to tell me what’s going on.”

Her dark eyes glanced at him, before returning to stare at her meal. “It’s nothing.”

“Bullshit, Elain. I can tell something is wrong without you even having to say it. It’s written as clear as day on your face. I am your husband. You’re supposed to confide in me. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s the matter.”

Az expected her to relent. To sigh, eyes rolling to the sky and finally tell him everything. What he didn’t expect was for her to burst into tears.

Her face fell into the cradle of her palms as a heart-wrenching sob tore from her throat.

For a moment, he froze, blind-sighted by the sudden emotion. And then the panic swept in. He was out of his seat a second later, moving around the edge of the table to pull her chair back and kneeling in front of her seat. “Hey,” he murmured, rubbing his hands on her thighs. “I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He kissed her kneecap, squeezing her legs gently to show her he was there for her.

Elain sniffed, running the back of her hand under her nose. “You didn’t upset me.”

His brows furrowed in confusion. “Then what did, love?”

She let out a shaky breath, hands falling into her lap. He took one in his, gripping it tightly. “I had a patient today with a fractured arm that we had to surgically repair. He was only four, and was brought in alone—no father and the mother died last year.” Elain sniffed again. “I found four other remodeled fractures on him from over the last two years. One of them was on the back of his skull.”

Azriel had a feeling about where this was leading. “Abuse?” he asked, voice carefully soft.

Elain nodded. “It would appear so.” She wet her lips, finally meeting his gaze. “Az, he looks like you. He could be your son.”

His eyes widened, unsure of where she was going but he had a hunch.

“I picked out his Illyrian heritage easily enough, but his circumstances, the way he’s been brutalized…they all remind me of you. Of your past.”

He couldn’t argue with her. Just hearing about the pain that had been inflicted on him reminded Az of his childhood. In how his father and half-brothers tortured him. It took an effort to not glance down at his scarred hands, a physical reminder of the trauma he’d endured. “What’s going to happen to him?”

“I’ve been in touch with Child Protective Services and he will likely go into the foster care system. But, looking at what’s been done to him, in the fact that he refuses to talk, and is terrified of adults, I’m concerned he won’t even be considered for adoption…” She let the words hang there, hoping he’d pick up on the unspoken ones she hadn’t yet said out loud but was hinting toward.

Az cocked his head to the side. “You want to adopt him.” It wasn’t a question—it didn’t need to be one. He could see Elain’s every desire as if it were written on her forehead. She had fallen in love with that child.

She dipped her head in confirmation, lower lip trapped between her teeth.

He squeezed her fingers again, thinking over his next few questions. “Love, I need to ask you something, and I want you to promise me you won’t get upset with me for it. Because I think this question needs to be asked.”

Her tongue darted along her lip, but she nodded for him to continue.

“Could the desire to adopt him have anything to do with your pregnancy? I know you have a lot of hormones running through you right now, and your maternal side is going to be very potent. This isn’t just because of that, right? You truly want him?”

Elain was already shaking her head. “No, it’s not that. He was brought to me for a reason, Az. I can feel it in my gut.” Her small hand cradled her stomach in emphasis.

He kissed her knuckles. “And it’s not because he reminds you of me?” He needed to hear her say it. That she wasn’t trying to save this child because of the similarities, but because she truly wanted to take on another kid.

“I’ve never been one for higher powers, but there’s something about Kaden that has completely unraveled me. He fears people but he trusts me. I know, deep in my heart, he was brought to my hospital because I could give him the life he deserves. That we could offer him something better and love him so fully, he’ll never remember a time where he suffered.” Elain wiped the tear from under her lashes. “He is supposed to be our son, Az. I just know it down to my bones.”

It was a lot to consider. She was halfway through her pregnancy with twins and adopting a third child right now would be insane. But he knew they could do it—that they had the means and the love to give to three children. People might call them mad, but looking at her, he had never seen such determination in her eyes and he could feel it buzzing under his skin. “All right,” he said, squeezing her hand again. “I’ll come to the hospital tomorrow afternoon to meet him.”

Elain’s brown eyes brightened like rays of sunshine. “Really? You mean that?”

“If he’s important to you, then he’s important to me, love. That’s the only thing that matters.” And he meant it too. Azriel would lay the stars at her feet if she asked for them.

More tears ran down her cheeks as she slid off her chair and threw her arms around his neck. He held her close, one hand cupping the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair, and the other running lines up and down her spine.

“Thank you, Az,” she cried, dampening the skin of his throat.

He hushed her sobs, pulling back to hold her cheeks in his palms. “I love you, Elain. All of you. And I would give you anything your heart desires.” His words had her crying in earnest, enough so that it took him a while to calm her down.

Thoroughly exhausted, Azriel carried his pregnant wife up the stairs and put her to bed; a hum of excitement stirring in his chest at what was to come.

~~~

Azriel pulled into a parking spot outside of the hospital at exactly three o’clock. His heart was racing in his chest like he’d just run a marathon, his gut swirling with anxiety. Elain had told him that the boy—Kaden, he reminded himself—was fearful of adults. In particular, males.

What if he didn’t like him? If he was scared of him? The questions had been daunting him all day and if he was being honest with himself, he was worried. He was worried that he wouldn’t be able to form a connection with this child. That he’d only bond with Elain and would resent Az’s presence.

It was fucking irrational, he knew that. But still, the thoughts invaded his mind and refused to let go.

He pulled out his phone and checked the messages from Elain.

Third floor, children’s ICU.

He’s been exceptionally clingy to me today.

Az smiled down at his phone at the second message, picturing the little boy snuggled into his wife’s side when she visited him. Which, was every chance she got.

Taking a deep breath, he climbed out of the vehicle and headed to the front entrance.

The Moonbeam twins had taken up residence in the lobby and spotted him immediately, rising from their seats to greet him.

“Mr. Knight,” Fenrys spoke. “Is everything all right?” he asked, looking over his shoulder into the emergency room concerned.

“Everything is fine. I’m just meeting Elain for an appointment.” It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it wasn’t the truth either. They had decided to forgo telling anyone about the potential adoption until much further into the process, not wanting anyone to try and talk them out of it.

“Of course,” Connall said, stepping aside. “We won’t keep you waiting.”

He offered them a quirk of his lips before heading for the elevator, but he stopped on his way, spying the hospital gift shop. In particular, the stuffed teddy bear in the window. With a glance over his shoulders to make sure nobody had spotted him, he turned into the shop and plucked the bear out of the window display, taking it to the cashier.

A few minutes later, he was riding up to floor three, the soft, plush toy in his grip. Az tugged on the knot of his tie, loosening it around his neck. His hazel eyes spotted Elain across the floor, sitting on the edge of a bed. Her mouth was moving, but she was behind a closed door so he couldn’t hear what she was saying.

Like a moth to a flame, he moved toward her, his heart hammering in his chest as he approached the glass slider and knocked.

Elain’s head snapped up, the most radiant smile pulling on her lips as she beckoned him in with a wave of her hand. Fuck, she was so gorgeous. Even made more radiant by the pregnancy as she entered into the second-trimester glow.

Azriel slid the door open, catching the end of her sentence.

“—someone I’d like for you to meet.”

Her fingers threaded through a dark mop of hair, and he finally let his eyes roam over the small child clinging to her waist.

“Kaden, this is my husband, Azriel. Azriel,” she said, gaze flicking to his with a soft smile. “This is Kaden.”

He looked at the young boy, meeting his stare and offering him a calming smile. “Hello, Kaden. It’s nice to meet you.”

Not a sound. Nothing from him other than turning to bury his face further into Elain’s side.

His heart broke, but Azriel was nothing if not determined, placing the teddy bear on the bed against the railing.

Elain grinned at him, thumb rubbing over Kaden’s cheek. “Did you see what Azriel brought you?” she murmured.

A green eye, flecked with gold peeked out from Elain’s waist, glancing at the plush toy but he didn’t reach for it.

Az sat down on the rolling stool, sliding over to the opposite side of the bed as his wife.

“We were just reading a story,” she announced, handing him the book. “How about Azriel finishes for me?” she murmured, brushing Kaden’s dark hair away from his face. “How does that sound?”

He thumbed open the book, going to the page she indicated they left off on. Clearing his throat, he began to read, using the inflections of his voice to aid him in his efforts to make it engaging. Kaden didn’t move away from his wife the entire time he spoke, but he did eventually turn his head to watch him.

Azriel took in the child in his peripheral, seeing the resemblance of himself. He could see why she had claimed he could’ve been his son. Bearing nearly his identical coloring and many similar markers of his Illyrian heritage, Kaden could easily be mistaken as his biological child.

And yet, it was obvious that Kaden was terrified of him.

He sat there for an hour, reading with him, trying to converse with him, and nothing. Azriel felt like a failure. Rising from his seat, he bid the boy farewell, shooting his wife a sad smile.

“I’ll walk you out,” she told them, ruffling Kaden’s hair before following him out of the room.

“He hates me,” he groaned, stopping in his tracks and scrubbing the heels of his palms over his eyes.

Elain moved to stand in front of him. “He does not hate you, Azriel. He’s just intimidated by you—”

“How is that better?”

She ran a hand up his bicep to grip him around the back of his neck. “You can make yourself less intimidating, Az. You in a suit is a force to be reckoned with, and frankly, I have a feeling his father wore similar attire.”

His brows furrowed. “What makes you say that?”

Her thumb traced over his jaw. “The woman who found him refused to give the paramedics her name. They said she looked terrified to even be talking to them. He’s Illyrian, Az…” her voice trailed off, leading him to the answer.

“You think his father is in the Illyrian Mob.” Not a question but a statement of fact.

“Lorenzo Salazar,” Elain confirmed.

The name didn’t immediately register anything in his brain, but he had something to go off of now. Azriel would look into him, find every single detail about the man’s life, and then decide if he deserved to die for the pain and suffering he put his son through.

“Come back tomorrow in jeans and a plain shirt and I’m sure it will help,” Elain told him, bringing his attention back to her face. Her eyes glanced over his shoulder to the boy in the room, a smile tugging on her lips. “Az,” she whispered, nodding toward the room behind them.

Something warm flared in his chest as he turned, and saw Kaden clutching the teddy bear he brought tightly to his body.

Elain stepped up to his side. “If he was afraid of you, Azriel, he would not be touching that toy. You connected with him, even if you can’t physically see it, but you did.”

A sense of awe washed over him, followed by an overwhelming urge to love and protect that boy. He wasn’t sure how long they stood staring at his sleeping form until he breathed, “I want him, El…I want him to be a part of our family.”

Her soft hand slipped into his, fingers lacing. “So, let’s bring him home.”

With joy and love, they stood watching the boy who would one day soon become their son.

~~~~~

Remember, sharing is caring! Please reblog if you liked the fic. It helps spread my work and I truly appreciate it. 💕

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[scorpiothesaint]

WRITEBLR INTRO xx

hey, all! i’m n.k. :-)

i'm not new to tumblr (have had a few diff accounts since 2011/2012), but i'm new to interacting with writeblr proper. 

ABOUT ME

late 20s

black & queer & disabled 

lifelong writer/musician/creative (in both professional and hobbyist capacities)

finally finishing my degree in creative writing & english! 

ARTISTIC/THEMATIC INTERESTS 

literary fiction, horror, camp, kitsch, diversity, introspection, family/friend bonds (especially nontraditional ones), romance, art rock, nostalgia, technology, diy ethos 

GOALS

connect with the tumblr writing community at large! for a while i was unable to get excited about my non-work, non-fanfic related writing projects. over the past year or so, my passion’s been renewed, and i just wanna chatter with like-minded folks about my longform WIPs, my short stories, etc – and geek over other people’s work here too <3

WIPS 

Dagmar

there’s always something going down in dagmar, an insular coastal community straddling the delaware bay. pragmatic tech geek zeke omezie-fumudoh, 18, prefers to keep her head in her books and projects – deaths and disappearances were common in her parents’ home country, too, after all. when her best friend dodie dies, however, zeke has no choice but to start trying to connect the dots & face the potential supernatural forces at play. 

[this is finna be dark fantasy/horror, romance, mystery, and queer as hell! i got a lot of worldbuilding to do, but a few months ago the twist popped into my head 1st and i’ve been working backwards. i'm sooo excited abt figuring out the narrative path(s) i gotta take]

Dave & The Family Davenport

20-year-old twin musicians dorian & daria davenport are a little s club 7, a little sly stone, & a whole lotta spitfire. as the very first act signed to holliday records, 30-something producer & label founder dave levine considers it his duty to take the family davenport under his wing. they become his pet project – and eventually something more to him. 

[i’m taking this one in a literary/drama direction! thinking found family and music industry commentary vibes. idea came from revisiting big time rush and thinking ‘what would happen if you mix btr + the carpenters + prince + mtv’s making the band??’ (for the record, dave is 100% NOT meant to be a p. d*ddy analogue re: making the band, i'm mainly thinking of the aesthetics of the young artists of color featured on the show)]

Several fun essays about my personal fandom/shipping history (one is about all the diff sites i've used over 17+ years of reading/writing fanfic, another is an old-school livejournal-style ship manifesto that i plan to make into a video! etc etc)

SHORT FICTION 

blank [literary/drama, 300 wds]

fortune teller [literary/drama, 300 wds]

hothouse [horror, 500 wds]

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[writing tag: scorpio the scribe]

hmu if you think we'd get along <3 i need more ppl to follow!

[demonioenelespacio]

Lately I've been thinking a lot about Crowley, Aziraphale, their feelings and the way season 2 has recontextualised some very popular headcanons from the previous one.

Starting with the first scene of both seasons: Eden and Before.

I think everyone agreed that Crowley fell in love with Aziraphale in Eden. We all know the exact moment, don't we? And I read countless fanfics around the idea that it was love at first sight for Crowley, while it took Aziraphale millennia to fall in love with him.

But then S2...

His little smile all the time, when he tries to introduce himself… His reaction to "Look at you, you're gorgeous". My man, did you have a crush before they invented them? And my only question is, is this instant interest in the Angel who will be Crowley? Or is he acting like this because he knows who they are, has admired them from afar and finally has an excuse to talk to them?

Regardless of that, the headcanon falls apart. If there's a winner in the oldest crush competition, it's Aziraphale.

And the truth is that all this changes the way I see the Eden scene. We don't know how much Crowley remembers of Before, but, inside, he knows Aziraphale isn't going to attack him right away, the angel is somewhat familiar. Aziraphale gets nervous, but otherwise doesn't react. A demon wants to speak, and, oh, no, it's him. That Angel doesn't exist anymore, what's your name now? This creature is evil, a demon. But he repays him with the same kindness he offered him before.

Even if I still read Crowley's expression as an absolute fascination with Aziraphale, at this point I don't think we're talking about a love story for either of them. By the time of A Companion to Owls, the two are at a loss as to what to expect from each other and they spend the episode poking at each other's edges.

As far as we know, the last time they met was with Noah. Crowley knows that Aziraphale is not a typical angel, but (in theory) he does nothing against God's order to drown all those humans. Is he really going to do something for Job's children? Why? What is his limit? Aziraphale is aware that Crowley is a demon, but is he really going to do this? Can he trust him not to harm the kids? Crowley was an angel Before; even if the Angel doesn't exist anymore, Crowley's core is the same. He is the same kind being.

And then you have the Oh moments.

The moment in the church… I know for many people this was the moment when Aziraphale fell in love. For me it was always more complex than that, but with season 2… Now we know Aziraphale was interested Before, and we have two new scenes to give more context: a story before the fight and what happens after the church.

While I'm at it, I'll take this opportunity to say: the fight is because they are idiots. It's not even about holy water! Well, partly yes, but the argument starts with the fraternizing thing.

Aziraphale has been denying for millennia that they know each other, not because they don't, but to cover their backs. "I'm no nice, don't say I'm nice" insists Crowley every chance he gets to cover his kind acts, unable to overlook "fraternizing."

In case Aziraphale was really covering their friendship with that word, saying "I've got lots of other people to fraternize with" is telling him that they are not so special, that Crowley has more friends.

They fight. But the fight is not that big of a deal. Honestly, to me it has the same energy as the fight when they're saying what to do about Jim. One of them leaves upset, thinks about it, apologizes, and they work together to resolve it in the end. It's a discussion like the one they had about working together to stop the apocalypse. In the book they have conversations that continue after years of not seeing each other; they could have kept talking about this, Crowley making his case, Aziraphale better explaining his objections.

But they don't. The discussion that starts with whether they are friends or not (as if Aziraphale refusing to give him a way to destroy himself if necessary isn't born from not wanting anything to happen to Crowley) is serious enough for both of them to refuse to talk.

In the end Aziraphale gets into trouble and Crowley comes to save him. That's no different from all the other times, it's what they have agreed upon. The Arrangement. But Crowley rescues the books too. And the last time they saw each other before the fight, Crowley was dragged to Hell to be interrogated and, possibly, tortured. His sin? Being slightly kind to a human. At the church, Crowley spends a demonic miracle to save some books. What excuse is he going to give for that? Aziraphale realizes that, whatever happens between them, Crowley is willing to risk punishment for a kind act towards him. Maybe Crowley does feel something for him, cares a little bit about him.

Because I don't think Aziraphale knows how Crowley feels until then. This Oh moment is not Aziraphale realizing his feelings. He's an angel, he feels love, and now we know he was infatuated from the beginning. Almost every time we see him meet Crowley, he's always amazed.

Is he really not going to be aware of his own feelings? No, I've always bet it's the other way around. Crowley is a mystery to him; I suspect that, just as angels and demons cannot detect each other (except Crowley, as I proposed here), Aziraphale doesn't know if Crowley feels love, of whatever kind, for him.

But he cares. And Aziraphale spends the night trying to say they are friends whenever he can, tentatively, seeing their reaction to the word. And they return to that state of blind trust in each other.

On the other hand, Crowley's Oh moment…. I don't think it's when he realises he's in love either, sorry. And it's because, to me, they know. They know by then their feelings and each other's. But they've been thinking for so long that it's all too complicated that even when they're on their own side they don't know how to make it simpler.

In the "You go too fast for me, Crowley" scene I always get caught up in what he says before. "Perhaps one day we could go for a picnic. Dine at the Ritz." Options that sound suspiciously like dates, even though he's turning him down again, covering their backs. They eat at the Ritz in the first episode; in the last episode (S1) they go to the park for ice cream as if it's an usual thing for them, just another monday. Even if they're not together-together, they already go on dates do these things.

To be honest, after S1 I always imagined that they weren't going to do anything different. Well, maybe hold hands in public, but everything else? They already act like a married couple (that's why it's possible for them to divorce hahahelp). So seeing them as they were in S2, I don't think they thought they had to change anything. But between Nina talking to Crowley and Aziraphale's enthusiasm in experiencing his own love story with the Ball, they both thought about changing their relationship at the same point.

But as Crowley once wisely said: it's too late. They are idiots, and in the end both Heaven and Hell stopped them.