#but still. sucks when it keeps happening.

[munson-blurbs]

Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: Your date--or non-date--with Eddie was ruined when he dodged your kiss. Or...was it? (5.4k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, anxiety, parental conflict, poverty, Reader wears a miniskirt, drinking, drunkenness, making out, heavy petting, mentions of smut, mention of masturbation (m), idiots in love, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

chapter eleven: undo, undone

He pulled away.

You leaned in for a kiss, and Eddie pulled away.

The full extent of rejection hadn’t even set in before you felt something cold and wet on your leg. An electric blue liquid dripped down your shin, traveling in winding paths like veins. 

Haziness shifted into perfect clarity, flinging you into sudden and unwanted sobriety. The music was too loud, the dimmed lights still too bright. Every conversation was now too loud, the floor sticky beneath your Doc Marten-ed feet. 

When you mustered up the nerve to look at Eddie, you saw that he had fared even worse; his entire left pant leg was drenched and already reeked of gin and the cerulean syrup stained his sneakers. His eyes widened as he processed what had just happened, a startled deer in the headlights. 

“Oh my God; I’m so sorry!” 

The drunken apology snagged your attention, coming from none other than the woman who’d brutally massacred Girls Just Wanna Have Fun. She stumbled forward again, and whatever remained of her drink sloshed over the glass and onto the floor. 

Her lower lip jutted out into a pout and panicked tears welled in her eyes as she looked from you to Eddie. “Have you seen my boyfriend?” Her words were slurred; ‘seen’ came out as ‘sheen.’ “I can’t find him anywhere.”

“I’ll help you find him.” Anything to get away from Eddie, to avoid the thundering question: Had he pulled back because of the spilled drink, or did he cause the spill by pulling away?

It had to be the latter. He probably regretted ever offering to celebrate your graduation and would spend the rest of the evening ruminating over how he’d inadvertently led you on. Was it dedicating a song to you? The dancing? 

Except…neither of those had been his idea. You were the one who insisted he sing karaoke. You were the one who asked him to dance. He relented to appease you, and you’d completely humiliated yourself by stretching his kindness past its platonic confines. 

The woman latched herself onto your arm with one gin-soaked hand and swiped at her cheeks with the other. Up close, she barely looked old enough to legally drink. “His name is Charlie.”

“Huh?” Her boyfriend. The one you were supposed to be locating. “Oh, right.” 

Eddie scrubbed his jeans with a wad of flimsy napkins, muttering under his breath when they left a papery residue in their wake. He grumbled something about the restroom before storming off in that direction. 

Your new drunk companion rested her head on your shoulder, permed hair tickling your neck. 

“What does Charlie look like?” The bar wasn’t big, not even by New York City standards, but having a general idea of who you were looking for would be a massive help. 

She just laughed softly, a joke only she knew, head lolling as she spoke. “Y’know…tall-ish. Blue eyes. Has, um, hair with a little woop thing.” Her palm mimicked an ocean wave. Just as you had predicted, the gesture provided nothing of relevance towards your search. 

You gritted your teeth in a forced smile. “Okay, right.” Sucking in a harsh breath, you led her to the bar and ordered two waters, practically shoving the condensation-frosted glass into her hand. 

“Where’s your boyfriend?” It all came out as one word: Wheresyourboyfren?

“He’s not—” You shook your head; there was no sense in trying to explain the situation to a wasted stranger. “Bathroom.”

The girl’s droopy lids snapped open. “That’s where Charlie went!” She threw her head back and cackled, and you quickly roped an arm around her waist to keep her from teetering over in her too-high heels. “You’re gorgeous, by the way. No wonder your boyfriend looks at you like you’re a fucking goddess.” Her mood rapidly shifted to one of ire as she threw out, “Bet he’d never leave you alone in this skeezy bar.”

Except he had left you alone in this skeezy bar—and he wasn’t your boyfriend. 

You could still feel his soft cotton t-shirt beneath your fingers, the way his curly tendrils of hair brushed along your hands. The gentle nose crinkle each time he smiled at you from the stage was forever etched into your brain. 

At what point did he realize he’d made a mistake? When did regret tarnish his good deed?

Tears pricked in your eyes as the weight of humiliation now set in. Your mascara would run, but who cared? It wasn’t as though you had anyone to impress anymore. 

The TV above the bar flashed with the red and blue of police lights, the colors blurred by your own tears. You blinked them away just in time to read the closed captioning scrolling along the bottom of the screen. 

The frontman of an up-and-coming punk band once again finds himself in legal trouble. Caleb Dalton, the lead singer and guitarist for Death’s Echo, was arrested early this morning for disorderly conduct and public intoxication. 

The video showed a young man keeping his head down so his shaggy blond hair covered his eyes, his hands cuffed behind his back and rendered unable to shield his face.

This is not the first time Dalton has landed himself in hot water. Just last week, the troubled musician was arrested for allegedly driving under the influence; his court date is set for early next month. All of this erratic behavior has fans wondering how this could impact the band’s first world tour, set to begin mid-June.

A professional photo of Death’s Echo took up the entirety of the screen. There was Caleb Dalton, front and center, shirtless and brooding. To his immediate left and right were two other men, one incredibly tall and lanky with gleaming chains dangling from both his neck and the belt loops of his dark-wash JNCOs. The other was shorter, stockier, wearing a black tank top that was littered with holes. If Eddie’s recollections of swanky hotel rooms and impromptu helicopter rides were true, the holes must have been purposefully designed to heighten the band’s grungy look. 

But the member who snagged your attention was the only woman in the group. Her eyes, thickly rimmed with kohl and sheathed in a smoky shadow, bore into your soul. Blonde hair fell in jagged layers and framed a heart-shaped face, her crimson-painted pout simultaneously beckoning suitors to come hither and stay away. 

You imagined those lips on Eddie’s for half a second before your drinks threatened to make a reappearance. 

The report ended with the obligatory statement: “Dalton’s rep could not be reached for comment,” before shifting to the next story. 

Tongue firmly adhered to the roof of your mouth, you gulped down some water in hopes of ungluing it. In hopes of sorting out your thoughts, jumbled from embarrassment and the jolt of alcohol to your system. 

If Eddie had seen that…you couldn’t stomach the thought of him watching as his replacement’s lips subtly curled into a smirk as he was shuffled along towards the police car. That was the smirk of a man who knew he’d evaded the law before and would likely do it again. Fame and fortune certainly had their ways of tipping the scales of justice. 

The news would almost certainly usher in unwelcome memories of his hometown and the people who took joy in vandalizing his trailer. The people who continuously made his life a living hell and faced no consequences because of their pristine reputations and Eddie’s tarnished one. 

You shoved the information deep down and vowed to never let it bubble over. If Eddie found out on his own, that was one thing. But you refused to further ruin this evening for him. 

“Dianna?”

A man’s worried voice called out from the back of the bar, his sandy eyebrows pinched together as he scoped out the cramped venue. With his crisp button-down and khaki pants, he could be Eddie’s polar opposite. 

“Oh my god! Babe!” The girl yanked herself from your light grasp. You realized that you hadn’t known her name until that moment, though there was a decent chance she wouldn’t even remember it if you’d asked. She stumbled over to the man—Charlie, you assumed—whose concerned expression dissolved into relief the moment she flung her arms over his shoulders. 

Charlie pulled her close and let out an extended sigh. His jaw relaxed, lips pressed to her temple as his frenetic energy tapered and his heart rate slowed. “Scared the shit outta me, babe.” He murmured against her ear. “Why didn’t you stay at the table?”

Your heart ached at the way he held her close, a precious commodity that he would protect with his life. Would Eddie ever touch you like that? Would he leave protective kisses all along your shoulders, nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck? Would he panic if he thought something happened to you?

If his rebuff of your kiss was any indication, it was highly unlikely.

Dianna shrugged. “I wanted to get another drink, but then I spilled it all over her boyfriend,” she said, pointing to you. 

Charlie looked in your direction as though seeing you for the first time. “That explains the guy standing at the sink, washing his pants.” His fingers sifted through the blonde curtains that flopped right back to his forehead, adding to no one in particular, “Dude looked pissed.”

Your stomach roiled, whiskey and vodka burning at the base of your throat. Between your unwelcome advances and Dianna’s drink snafu, Eddie’s good deed was far from unpunished.

The urge to empty the contents of your stomach only heightened when you imagined the look of utter disgust Eddie must have worn when you leaned in for that kiss and the embarrassment he felt on your behalf. A man bought you a drink, obliged your request for a dance to a mediocre karaoke rendition of a song, and you took that as some grand romantic gesture? Pathetic. 

It was just another way that you let people down. 

Eddie’s expectations of a night out with a platonic friend. 

Mom and Dad’s expectations of you taking over the motel. 

Your own expectations of Eddie secretly harboring romantic feelings for you, strong enough to shine through the cloud of insecurity constantly surrounding you. 

Once again, you were a disappointment. 

The room’s walls began closing in, filling your lungs with wet sand that clung to the muscle and made breathing an impossible task. A fuzzy film blurred your vision and warped the room until it was utterly unrecognizable. 

Air. You needed fresh air and to get far away from this godforsaken bar. A wave of heat crashed over you again and again, dousing you in your own perspiration and keeping your feet pasted to the floorboards. 

Don’t cry don’t cry don’t—

“Heiress?”

Eddie’s voice shredded through anxiety’s haze, his worried tone bursting the bubble with a violent pop. The world began shifting back into place, your mind floating back down in reluctant reunion with your body. 

“Hey.” Strong palms clasped your trembling shoulders. He leaned in to ensure you heard him over the pulsing music. “Let’s get outta here, okay?”

Your response was a meager nod. His fingers glided down your bare arm, goosebumps rising in their wake, as he took your hand and led you outside. The burst of night-chilled air was a sweet nectar; your bones drank it up like a delicacy. 

Diaphragm loosening, you took one shallow breath, then another that rested a bit deeper in your chest. You anchored yourself in the moment until you once again recognized the subtle press of your lungs against your ribcage. 

Home. You needed to get home. 

Peering down to check your watch, you realized that Eddie’s hand still clutched yours. The pad of his thumb traced lazy lines along the skin between your thumb and forefinger, steady as a heartbeat. 

“It was getting kinda crowded in there, huh?” It was said entirely for your benefit, you knew: Eddie was accustomed to packed arenas and sold-out stadiums. 

Another nod. “Y-Yeah, I wasn’t expecting it t-to be…” That was the whole reason why you’d suggested a Monday night, but Karaoke Night must have brought in an influx of new customers. Couple that with the end of the Memorial Day weekend, where people didn’t want the party to end after the family barbecues wound down, and you had the perfect recipe for an overcrowded bar.

Eddie dug into his back pocket as the two of you began walking back towards the motel, procuring a dented box of Camels and his trusty lighter. His eyes, illuminated by The Brink’s dim neon signage, flicked over to yours. “Is it cool if I…?” He raised the cigarette, pinched between his pointer and middle finger, unlit until you gave your approval.

“S’fine.” You watched his thumb glide over the sparkwheel, igniting a tiny flame. The scent of burning tobacco wafted off of the end of his cigarette, the wind blowing a curl of smoke in your direction. 

He waved his hand to ward it away from you. “Sorry,” he mumbled. When he took another drag, it happened again. “Jesus Christ. Here.” Tucking the cigarette between his lips, he planted his feet behind you and placed both hands on your shoulders, stopping you in your tracks. Electricity crackled beneath his touch, his fingertips the lightning and his voice the gentle rumble of thunder.

Stop it, you reprimanded yourself. He dodged your kiss. You can’t be thinking this way anymore.

He sidestepped to your right, the breeze now carrying the smoke away from you. Another deep inhale had the flame ripping through the paper, ash building up on the cigarette’s tip. The flakes floated down and decorated the tops of his sneakers in a gray snow. A warning sat on your tongue, hampered only by the cool dampness suddenly touching your bare leg. 

Eddie grimaced at the way you stumbled and stepped away slightly so the wet denim no longer pressed against your skin. “I got most of the drink out, I think. It’s just soap and water at this point.” 

You stopped again, stooping down and pinching the fabric of his jeans between two fingers. The scent of gin still clung to him, though not as strongly as it had immediately following Dianna’s spill. Or maybe it was just the tobacco’s heaviness that overpowered it. That damn cigarette, so smugly perched where you longed to be. 

“I’m doing a load of laundry tomorrow,” you managed, shaking off the remaining thoughts of Eddie’s lips as you carefully stood up. The last thing you needed was dizziness spinning you to the ground. “I can throw these in with my stuff, if that’s okay.”

Eddie grinned. It was the first glimmer of happiness you’d seen from him since asking him to dance.

“Trying to get in my pants, Heiress?”

Your feet caught beneath you. You dug your heels into the pavement to steady yourself, sending up silent praise to whatever omnipotent presence kept you from falling flat on your face. 

If he was joking with you…he wasn’t mad. He wasn’t unnerved by your attempt to kiss him. 

You invited relief in, just enough to loosen a retort from your arsenal. 

“Don’t make me rescind my offer,” you quipped back. “And in the meantime, I’ll just tell people you pissed yourself.”

Eddie quirked up an eyebrow. “On the outside of my leg? I can see why you studied psychology instead of anatomy.”

There was nothing you needed to focus on less than Eddie Munson’s anatomy right now, the way it might feel against your own, within your own. Not when the ship had only just begun steering down the right course again. 

“That girl found her boyfriend, by the way. Or, he found her, I guess.” It was the first subject your brain latched onto. When Eddie’s reply was a confused stare, you hurriedly elaborated. “The girl who spilled her drink on you.”

“Oh, right. Yeah.” He flicked some more ash from his cigarette and took another wistful drag. “This whole night was a blur.” 

You forced yourself to choke down the insecurity that had lodged itself in your throat. “Rockstar can’t mix liquor like he used to?” You tutted disapprovingly. “Maybe you’re getting a little rusty. Out of practice.”

“Please.” He scoffed, snuffing out the cigarette on a brick wall. “Did you see my moves tonight?”

You certainly had. Each hip swivel, each pelvic thrust was firmly etched into your memories. And then there was the way he’d danced with you, leading with the confidence of an order but the tenderness of a suggestion. 

“Fair enough,” you conceded. The fresh air was working wonders; you stood a bit straighter as you continued walking alongside him, your footsteps in time with his own. “I still can’t believe you sang Elvis.”

“Me either.” Eddie laughed through his nose. “I was going to sing something Ozzy-adjacent, but then I saw Heartbreak Hotel and figured it fit better with, y’know, our whole thing.”

Our whole thing. An invisible and intangible thing, but he felt it, too. Felt it enough to acknowledge it aloud. 

A smile blossomed on your lips. “You were easily the best one up there. Singing, dancing…all of it.” Flattery embedded in truth, you noted the tips of his ears tinging red. 

“I don’t think anyone would mistake me for a dancer.” He chuckled, hand swaying out just enough to find purchase on your back and pull you an inch closer.  

You swallowed back desire and forced yourself to focus on anything but the press of his fingers against your spine. “N-No future career in Elvis impersonation? Or ballroom dancing?” 

“Nah.” Eddie shook a stray curl from his eyes. “And I definitely stepped on your toes while we were dancing.”

“You didn’t.” If he had, you didn’t notice, too swept up in the warmth of his closeness to even register any overlapping feet or bumping knees. 

Someone barely visible in the inky night lugged a garbage pail across the sidewalk, the scraping of metal bringing your heart into your throat. The noise must have startled Eddie, too; his fingers tensed against your side to hold you in place as he stepped in front of you. 

“Shit.” He swore under his breath. Nervous, awkward laughter permeated the air when he realized that the threat was no more than a dented hunk of metal. “Sorry about that. I just thought–”

“S’okay.”

Comfortable silence, as much as the city streets allowed, accompanied you as you walked back, broken only by crickets’ rhythmic chirping and car engines revving down the boulevard. Eddie’s eyes stayed alert to his surroundings and his grip remained tight around your waist, adrenaline still coursing through his veins from the earlier scare. His chest nudged your back; you could feel his heart thumping a protective beat.

A hunger to kiss away that fear, to nuzzle yourself into him until his pulse steadied and his breathing regulated, settled into you. You were starving to restore his lightheartedness. 

Eddie’s voice was rife with apprehension when he spoke again. “I, uh, think we got interrupted. Back at the bar.” 

He looked away as he spoke, and it took a moment for you to register what he said. Surely he wasn’t referring to the kiss—or lack thereof. He wouldn’t be bringing it into the conversation now that the embers of your embarrassment had finally stopped burning bright. 

You shoved the thought far from your mind, temporarily quelling the memory’s intensity and allowing yourself to think straight. The slow dance–he meant the slow dance being interrupted. “The song was almost over, anyway,” you said softly.

“I’m not talking about the dance.”

Oh. So that meant…

“Heiress.”

A hint of a warble clipped his nickname for you. Eddie’s left hand wrapped around your upper arm, fingers barely touching skin, but it was enough to stop you in your tracks. You caught the way his tongue flicked over his lip, the way his cocoa irises darkened even under the streetlamp’s flickering light. Fuzziness filled your brain; your breath hitched in some unknown space between your lungs and your throat.

His right thumb brushed your chin, your jawline, memorizing the texture of your skin. He smiled, the gentle upward tug of the corners of his mouth suddenly the center of your focus.

“Heiress,” Eddie repeated, the word a whisper that left your bones humming. 

You nodded, your own fingers tangled in his cotton shirt, pulling him an inch closer that still felt like he was a mile away. He would never be close enough, you realized. 

His palm slid to your cheek, his fingers tucked behind your ear, beckoning you to take that small step forward and bridge that gap. It was your choice. You could back away and unfurl your fingers from around his shirt. You could ignore the aching need in your core, the one that matched his. 

You deserve to be happy, he’d said.

And for once, you allowed yourself to believe him.

You believed him when you stepped into him, your chest against his, rising and falling in perfect synchronicity. You believed him when noses clumsily bumped together as you sought his lips, the lips from which symphonies of music and laughter flowed. You believed him when you finally found them after the agonizing seconds, minutes, hours, days–time both hastened and ceased to exist–and connected with Eddie on a level only ever reached in your runaway daydreams.

Expectations slid down your back and swirled down the storm drains when his tongue sought entrance at your lips. There was no school, no motel, no troubled lead singer. There was only you and Eddie. 

A calloused palm clutched your shirt, the fabric bunching between his fingers. The fervor of his tug pulled the neckline down past your collarbone to reveal one white bra strap. 

Eddie’s lips danced over your uncovered shoulder, forefinger sliding under your bra strap and toying with it once his mouth returned to yours. The touch was burning, the promise of pleasure sending sparks careening down your spine. The flames spoke nonsensically, whispering to let him undress you right here in the street. 

His hunger for you was seemingly just as insatiable. The hand that rested on your cheek dove to where your skirt curved along your ass, wrinkling the stiff denim as he squeezed harshly. You let your own grasp fall from his collar to his biceps, feeling them instinctively flex beneath your touch. 

More. You needed more. You needed all of him, needed to give him all of you, until you were wholly unified with no clear beginning or end to you and Eddie as separate beings. 

Your hips rolled into him, a soft moan leaving his mouth to safekeep in yours. You let it trickle down your throat, relishing in the subtle hardness that you felt pressed against his fly. 

A shoulder collided with his and sent both of you stumbling, Eddie only holding you tighter to prevent a fall. His arms wrapped around you as he scowled at the man who dared to occupy the sidewalk while the two of you were locked in an embrace. 

“We’re in the way,” you murmured against him, nose grazing the hint of stubble peppering his jaw. 

Eddie said nothing in response. His eyes shone with equal parts determination and desire. In one swift, impulsive motion, he grabbed your wrists and led you off to the side, away from any passersby. 

“‘S probably better that we stop.” The disappointment weighing down his words spoke volumes. “Your shift starts soon.”

You shook your head. “We can be fast.” Your lips attached to his neck, sucking lightly as your teeth grazed his exposed skin. 

“Look at me, Heiress.” Eddie sighed and leaned against the nearest lamppost. He kept two fingers curled into your belt loop, bringing you with him. “I don’t wanna do this with a timeclock going.”

“It’s fine, really.” Kissing him forever still wouldn’t be long enough. 

A chuckle punctuated his breath. “When we do that…” His thumb brushed over your lower lip for a second time. “I’m not gonna be rushed. I’m gonna need hours, Heiress. Because once I have you like that, I’ll never be able to stop.”

Heat seeped into every pore, bringing with it a familiar ache. Needs and wants blurred together until they were indistinguishable from each other, his kisses having siphoned all logic out of your mind. 

You allowed a moment for the fog to clear and reality to settle. No, you couldn’t fake illness and burden your parents with an extra shift, just to have sex with Eddie. No, you shouldn’t run your fingertips along his zipper and awaken the beast that he had managed to quell. No, you wouldn’t let lust wield its power like a mighty sword, slicing into all reasoning until it was unrecognizable. 

“Y-Yeah.” You swallowed back temptation, your gaze falling to where his arousal was still evident in his jeans. 

Eddie’s eyes followed yours, accompanied by an embarrassed huff of laughter. “Don’t worry about that.” The tip of his nose grazed your earlobe as he whispered, “I can take care of that later.”

His admission brought the imagery of him laying back in his bed, boxers haphazardly shoved halfway down his thighs and hand wrapped around his cock. You wanted—needed—to know how he touched himself. Did he tease the head with his thumb? Did he use his other hand to cup his balls? Did he gradually edge himself or did he sprint towards euphoria?

The cold metal of his belt buckle brought goosebumps through your shirt fabric as he kissed you once again, too briefly. Always too briefly. What you wouldn’t give for just a few more moments alone with him to unfasten that buckle yourself. 

“Heiress?” 

Eddie’s smile lifted you out of your thoughts, the smirk informing you that he knew you weren’t paying attention. 

“Hmm?”

Lips connected to the soft skin just below your ear; your body reflexively arched into their butterfly touch. “What time are you doing laundry tomorrow?”

“Oh, um,” You calculated silently, the inside of your cheek trapped between your teeth. If you went to bed at 6 A.M. and then slept until early afternoon… “No earlier than two. I can knock on your door when I’m ready.”

He nodded as he threaded his fingers with yours. A current of protection surged through the lines etched in his palms, wrapping you in a cocoon that kept the rest of the world at bay. The sounds of car horns and pedestrians’ conversations and the subway rattling under the grate faded into the background, too dull to even hear. There was no one except for you and Eddie.

The motel entrance loomed ahead, the dimming sign filling you with ambivalence rather than its usual sense of tranquility. Despite the headaches and heartaches it brought, it was still home. 

Tonight, however, you approached it with newfound apprehension. Entering the lobby meant that you had a choice to make: You could keep your grasp on Eddie’s hand and risk your mom seeing, or you could let it go before she noticed. 

You reluctantly untangled your fingers from his, anxiety defeating you with a fatal blow. His hand draped over your wrist for the briefest moment before falling unceremoniously to his side. It hurt to look at the confusion pinching his brows together, his mind spinning to determine the miscalculation that caused you to let go. 

Telling Mom would be too complicated; you’d basically be subjecting yourself to a lecture on the unprofessionalism and dangers of forming romantic relationships with the guests. 

No matter that you’d never pursued so much as a friendship with a guest prior to meeting Eddie. No matter that, with him, you felt more whole than you’d ever been. More true to your authentic self. 

Mom looked up before the bell jingled, a product of her maternal sixth sense. There was no missing your smudged lipstick or the pinkish-red marks across Eddie’s mouth that nullified any alibi he might create. 

“Did you two have fun?” To her credit, Mom kept her tone nonchalant, but her narrowed eyes saw it all. 

“Mhm.” You scraped at the corner of your lip, as if that would conceal the evidence. “Eddie sang Elvis at karaoke.”

That got a smile out of Mom, her posture softening slightly. Still, distrust radiated off of her skin, twisting the knife of inadequacy deeper into your stomach. She glanced between you and Eddie, sizing up the situation. There was nothing she could say at that moment. Not with Eddie standing right there.

“I’m gonna get changed and I’ll be right back.” You couldn’t bear to meet her gaze as you walked to your room. 

A piece of you hoped that Eddie would be waiting when you returned. You stripped off your skirt first, the denim dropping to the ground and revealing your panties. They were, in fact, pink and lacy; the kind that one might wear if they planned to show them to someone else. As if you and Eddie would have been able to sneak past your mom unnoticed. 

You tugged on a pair of jeans, too worn and wide-legged to be capable of showing off your figure. 

The make-up you wore to the bar was too dark for work, and you scrubbed at it until mascara residue stained your white washcloth black. You rinsed, scrubbed, and repeated until your face was bare. Tired eyes stared back in the mirror. 

Honesty was a weight in your chest, anchoring you in an abyss of your own shortcomings. It pulled you down, down, down until the waters were too murky and the pressure was too strong to swim up to the surface. 

With a deep breath, you pushed off of the sink ledge and headed back to the lobby. Only Mom was there, her disdain no longer hidden now that the two of you were alone. 

“Eddie’s in his room,” she said, as though reading your mind. 

“Okay. Yeah, he’s probably tired—”

“You know better than to get involved with a guest—employee—whatever he is.” Mom waved her hand in irritation. Her voice was sharp, cleaving through the facade with one cut, yet hushed in case of eavesdropping ears. 

You cast your eyes down to the floor. “We’re—we’re not involved. Things just got out of hand, but we’re colleagues. Friendly colleagues,” you added off-handedly. 

Mom sighed. “It’s not that I don’t want you making friends,” she started, “but it’s not a good idea for you to get close to Eddie. If you have an argument or a falling out…”

“I know.” It compromised too much. Eddie could pack up and leave at the drop of a hat, and the motel would be without a handyman. You weren’t sure how the place survived before he was around, changing light bulbs and plunging toilets and tinkering with minor electrical problems. Now that he was here, he was an invaluable asset. 

“Okay.” Mom looked at you once more, a warning flashing in her eyes. “Okay.” Stepping out from behind the desk, she watched as you took her place. 

“Mom?” All of your truths begged and pleaded to be unleashed. Your feelings for Eddie, graduate school, plans for the future. 

She stopped, stunned by the vulnerability in your tone. “Yeah?”

Tell her. Stop being a coward and tell her. 

“I’m gonna wash clothes around two tomorrow, if you need anything done.”

Failure. 

Mom loosened a breath that blew away some of her anger. “I’ll ask Dad, but I think we’re good.” She leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I know running this place hasn’t been easy, but we’re really proud of you.”

“Thanks.” Every ounce of your remaining strength was spent on tempering your emotions, swallowing the pit that formed in your throat. “Get some sleep.”

The ugliness of your lies wrapped around you, constricting vines that dug into your skin and severed the flow of blood and air. 

The daughter they were proud of didn’t exist. Maybe she never did. And the daughter they had was surely nothing less than a disappointment. 

It wasn’t until the silence settled in, swallowing you whole, that you realized you’d never bid Eddie good night.

--

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@fishwithtitz @costellation-hunter @cloudroomblog @emsgoodthinkin @hellfire--cult

[kooqitas]

#pairing: ex!seungkwan x reader.

#genre: smut | #w.c: ~1100

#synopsis: everything was fine, until you meet your ex boyfriend at the bar.

#warnings: vaginal sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, pet names, woozi mentioned, fuck first and talk later :)

#notes: not proofread, english isn't my first language! angry and longing sex has its value

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you wanted to leave when you saw him.

even three months after the breakup, seungkwan was still fucking handsome, and yes, it's true, you wanted to die when you saw him. his black social clothes making it clear that he had just gotten off work (just like you). that could only be fate's joke against you. and sure enough, the three straight shots of tequila you downed had to do with how unbearably hot your ex boyfriend was.

you burned with his gaze, that was a fact, looking at him in that outfit reminded you of the number of times you were on your knees while he cum in your face after a tiring day at work.

you ordered three more shots when you saw him casually unbutton two buttons on his shirt, not knowing if he was testing you or something. the truth is: you really regretted breaking up with seungkwan, it all started when on a day when you were exhausted he ended up going out with dino without telling you, he came home late a little drunk and you had a fight, but seungkwan wasn't there either very well these days so when you told him to get his things and leave the apartment he just did it.

and then three months passed...

"you should, you know... talk to him." mingyu tried to encourage you.

"not even dead!" yes, you recognized that, you were still too proud to give in.

"you're so annoying, my god!"

“fuck, shut up mingyu!” you snorted, chugging another three shots of tequila when you saw your (ex) boyfriend now rolling up the sleeves of his black shirt.

as the minutes passed, all your friends found something to do, whether dancing, or going home with strangers, and you were still there, drinking and staring at your ex-boyfriend...

so you decided to go to the bathroom, fuck that's enough, you looked so fucking beautiful and it was unfair to suffer for a guy who didn't even want to stay...

you just didn't expect that when you closed the bathroom door, someone would put their foot there, preventing you from closing it.

much less than that someone would be boo seungkwan.

"what are you doi-" he kissed you before you could finish.

"shut up, we'll talk later, but right now i just need..."

you've never seen seungkwan so bewildered, he didn't even bother to lock the bathroom door when he placed you against the sink, kissing you in a fierce and violent way, being honest, seungkwan always was a gentleman, in the few months of dating you had, he rarely lost control in sex, but you knew it was going to happen in that bathroom. and you were grateful.

he was quick to run his hand down your thighs, biting your neck in a way that would leave marks, he laughed when he saw that you were wet.

"really? all this just by looking at me?"

you moaned when he sucked your tongue again, at the same time he rubbed his thumb over your wet panties, you felt a little pathetic for literally getting wet just seeing him, but at the moment you weren't thinking straight, you missed him, your boyfriend touching you.

"tell me you spent these three months thinking about me,please" and you understood what he meant by 'thinking about’ him the moment his thick finger moved your panties to the side.

you regretted a little for not choosing your best panties that day, didn't have lace, weren't that thin, were just something comfortable for work, yet seungkwan thought you were the hottest woman in the world.

"tell me that you played alone thinking about me all these months."

and he inserted the first finger, making you bite your lips to keep from moaning loudly.

"are your fingers as good as mine?" he asked as he inserted one more, driving you crazy. "tell me, who played with this pussy in these three months, hmm, just you?”

you remained quiet, and he noticed your silence, removing his fingers from inside you and looking at you seriously. seungkwan's gaze became a little possessive, he didn't like his silence at all.

"i asked you a question, was it just you?"

“ji-jihoon…” you were honest.

you noticed when seungkwan's eyes darkened, you knew he was always a little jealous of jihoon, your co-worker who hit on you, maybe that's exactly why you ended up in his bed right after you ended your relationship, and seungkwan never listens to you but it was fucking good.

“what the fuck did you say?” seungkwan grabbed your hair.

“jihoon, i… i had sex with him…”

seungkwan let out a kind of growl before attacking your lips again, you just heard the belt opening and the pants coming down, things happened so fast that you couldn't even think, the next second your leg was on the sink and seungkwan was pushing hard his fat cock inside you.

“KWAN~” you screamed.

"whore!" he hit your face, you knew he was venting anger, but you also knew that after that they would talk so... why not rough sex, right? "you're mine!" he hit you again. "just mine." and again. "i’m the only one who has the right to fuck this pussy."

“y-yes!”

when seungkwan opened your mouth, you just accepted the saliva he spat into it, swallowing it right away and smiling like the good girl you were.

your legs began to wobble, the clash between their bodies making you lose your balance more and more, yet seungkwan held you tightly and lunged at you, hitting your spot and making you roll your eyes.

"i’m better than him?" it took you a few minutes to understand what seungkwan was talking about, and you just nodded. "did jihoon cum inside that pussy?"

"no! we use condoms!" you were honest, you actually used a condom when you had sex with jihoon, and with that you felt seungkwan smile.

"am i the only one who can fill you up, baby? am i the only one who can make that little hole full?"

"y-yes! please-" you said as you felt something grow in your belly, gripping the sink and your ex's short hair tightly.

“please what, cutie?”

"cum, i need to cum."

"i'm not stopping you..." seungkwan brought his thumb to your clit, and the slightest touch was enough to make you come...

he came right away, filling you completely like he hadn't done in months...

"fuck..." you took a deep breath, then laughed.

a few seconds later, when your breathing calmed, seungkwan kissed you on the forehead, helping you lower your skirt.

"are you driving your car?" he asked and you denied. "great, we'll go to my apartment."

"are we going to talk... or just... continue this?"

"both... we'll talk, start dating again, and then i'll fill you up... like my girlfriend."

[toxycodone]

Husband anon is back to tell you about another adventure with the IRL husband that is also just Laios and inspires the writing.

Coming home to him in loose workout shorts and running your hands up his thighs to make him squeal and laugh because he’s so sensitive while you try to nibble and lick his wonderful hairy thighs, him pushing you away complaining that it’s too sensitive while moaning your name. Laios begging for you to switch to his thighs or somewhere else less sensitive only to find out it’s more sensitive and when you finally sink your lips over his cock, he’s hard as a rock and rutting against your head to hope for you to go deeper as your saliva coats all over him and your hand that you use to keep you from gagging yourself.

It starts off totally innocent.

You and Laios get into tickle fights on occasion. It’s not anything super intense, he just likes to mess with you and get you smiling and giggling because he thinks you’re absolutely adorable. Today, he happens to be in his workout outfit. He’s coming home from a hike and smells like grass and sweat.

Laios is just playing around, so he lets you get on top of him in the bed. His shirt rides up a little as he’s beaming up at you. His golden eyes shine with mirth as stifled giggles leave his lips. In order to get him back when he’s tickling you, you decide to blow a couple raspberries on his exposed tummy, slowly moving down to his plush, pale thighs.

As you do that, Laios’s laughs begin to get cut off by gasps, shortly followed by sweet moans. Laios tells you that’s a bit too much. And you can tell what he means by that by the growing bulge in his pants. He’s not asking you to stop, just letting you know the kisses and nips you’re trailing up his groin is going straight to his cock, and now this sweet moment between you two is gonna turn into something else entirely.

You take the cue to link your fingers under the waistband of his pants and boxers. His cock eagerly bounces out, already almost fully hard. Laios looks up at the ceiling and you can see the pink blush starting to spread across his cheeks and down his neck. Every time you give him head, he always gets embarrassed. You’re assuming it’s a mixture of him just not being used to it still, but also the fact that just a little touching can get him so fucking hard for you. It’s actually sweet how enthusiastically his body reacts to you.

As you lean closer to his length and give it a few licks, you can smell the dried sweat, musk, and scents of nature from him being outside today—but it just turns you on even more. Laios lets out a hushed gasp, then shudders as you take him down your throat. After a few bobs of your head you feel his body start to relax, then his hand cradles the back of your head as he guided a you up and down.

He’s always surprisingly gentle as he fucks your throat. Well, at least in the beginning. His moans and whimpers grow louder and louder as you continue. And each time you gag or moan yourself, Laios lets out a loud groan. He can’t help it, the little vibrations travel from your throat down his groin and he just can’t resist.

You take a moment to start gently massaging his hefty balls which makes thighs shake and toes curl. This is where things take a turn. You anchor a hand on his groin to keep Laios from banging the head of his cock against your uvula or another sensitive area of your throat. He starts to get eager now, raising his hips to get you swallowing more of his length as curses leave his slick, slightly parted lips.

Laios then sits up a little and looks down at you. He’s still embarrassed, but he always has to look at you. As usual, Laios’s mind begins to wander. You’re so cute when you suck him off. He pays attention to how you take him. He always wonders if you like the taste. Is it different when he hasn’t washed? He wonders if his cum will taste different from what he ate. Maybe you’ll like it more this time…

And when you make eye contact with him, looking up from beneath your lashes, Laios fucking whimpers. God, you’re so fucking pretty like that. Handsome. Gorgeous. Beautiful. You’re so good to him, the best thing that’s ever happened to him. You’re too fucking good and so fucking perfect—

“I’m gonna cum.”

He chokes out, now gripping your hair and guiding you faster and faster. It only takes a couple more strokes for Laios to blow a fat load down your throat. Thankfully, you’ve become used to his terrible timing and lack of verbal cues during blowjobs. You sorta gracefully take him into your mouth, trying not to choke and swallowing what you can manage.

Laios’s lips are on yours as soon as you’re finished servicing him. He’s always more than eager to taste himself on you and whisper his thanks and tell you just how good you did. You could give the toothiest blowjob in the world and he’d still be over the moon he got to cum within five feet of you.

Afterwards, Laios has the goofiest smile on his face. He hugs you tightly and kisses your cheeks and asks you if you need anything. He always gets you something tasty to drink though. Whether it’s juice from the fridge or just a sip of his half drunk, lukewarm Gatorade on his nightstand. When you suck him off, he’s always a bit concerned about the taste, especially if you do it when he hasn’t washed…

Want him to cook? Maybe take a bath together? He can wash your back…maybe let you sit on the corner and he can return the favor…anything you want to do afterwards is just perfect to him.

[lovelyo]

Cressida Torture Porn

RANT INCOMING: What the absolute fuck is wrong with this show and their love for torturing Cressida? Do they get off in making this girl suffer? If I was in her position, I would go apeshit too.

All this girl wants is a genuine connection, to be valued and all people do is knock her down. She lashes out horribly on people just like Penelope, but she’s punished while Penelope is considered a girlboss even though Cressida’s home environment is shittier than Penelope’s. Her hope from her suffocating fate was Eloise only for Eloise to push her to the side for a friend who lied to her for years and screwed her over. Got called a viper (EVEN THOUGH ELOISE KNOWS WHO LW IS! 🤬🤡) by the person she always wanted to befriend even before Eloise fell out with Penelope.

Cressida saved Eloise from loneliness but Eloise didn’t reciprocate when Cressida was in need. Even then, she liked Eloise so much that before she left to get shipped away to even a more emotionally absent relative, she wanted to reconcile with Eloise, but Eloise closed the chapter. She tried to say goodbye to Eloise before she left. Eloise didn’t even bother to look Cressida’s way when she left.

All for Penelope who has done considerably more damage to her than anyone. 😐😑

It was the first time ever I was genuinely upset at Eloise. Eloise knew about Cressida’s ordeal but still vilified her and abandon her like she was a side piece(ain’t far from the truth really). Eloise unfortunately had to drink the OOC Koolaid for Penelope to get her HEA. This made me despise Penelope more btw. While everyone is in a damn romantic sitcom catering to Pen, Cressida is fighting for her life in this SAW trap where it’s do or get fucked.

Cressida was a bitch throughout the show until we came upon her reasonings in S3 which made her more of a sympathetic character than Penelope ever was. We should feel bad for this “woe is me” jackass who’s more privileged than anyone in this goddamn show but not the one who has parents that are emotional as a spiked bat?

The one who’s been indoctrinated heavily by her mother to treat other women like enemies?

The one where it’s her 3rd time on the marriage mart, got the guy she had her sights on get taken away just for Penelope to say sike and marry Colin and for Lord Debling to go MIA?(the same happened to her with the fucking prince in season 1!)

The one who’s being forced to marry an old man cause rarely anyone wants her?

The one who lost a friendship she thought was genuine while that friend is going around dunking on her name?

The one who is actually looked down by the ton because they can’t take her seriously?

Her life pretty much sucks but the show keeps trying to shove in our faces that Cressida is a bully so she got what she deserved. Fuck Cressida Cowper, amirite?

Oh Christ.

I’m not justifying her rude and sometimes cringe actions, but if people can “understand” why Penelope does what she does, why can’t people extend the same courtesy to Cressida? Oh yes, she was mean to the show’s golden child so she gets the hammer.

Cressida didn’t expose Penelope to the queen even though she could have. She wasn’t even the one who wrote the fake Bridgerton slander, it was her mom and she even confronted her mom and made her displeasure known about it!

All she wanted was money to be free from her fate. She was desperate but the Bridgertons are like “haha u stupid and u suck. Speaking of suck, time to go suck on Penelope’s toes.”

Yeah, Cressida isn’t clever, she’s stupid right? Stupid enough to quickly figure out who LW was before you Bitchgertons. You hacks didn’t even figure it out when Colin and Penelope’s engagement was printed THE NEXT DAY!

They did Cressida so dirty this season like it’s really heartbreaking, no joke. Cressida is the true victim, not the redhead who got an undeserved HEA cause self-inserters and favoritism.

P.S. Penelope keeping her persona but just using her real name is SO FUCKING STUPID

[dolldefiler]

[Channelling my inner hedge fund CEO with this one.]

C/W: Gaslighting

Come again? You want to quit? No, sweetheart, you don’t. No, I’m telling you that you don’t want to quit. What’s happened here is that you’ve gotten a little overwhelmed with our… new working relationship recently and you just need a little refresher. That’s okay. Come here. Good girl. See? Fuck… this body doesn’t deserve to be hidden away in these tight, slutty clothes of yours. It belongs to be out here, doesn’t?

Of all the things you were, clever was never one of them. Hey, hey, it’s okay. Now, you started your career at this firm eking out a meagre existence of filing paperwork, filling in paperwork, scanning more fucking paperwork, you get the idea. And you would have spent the rest of your life doing just that. You’d take the smallest amount of money we’d give you to keep you quiet but not so little that you’d leave. That’s how you’d spend your life.

Now look at you in your top of the line clothing and expensive perfumes. No, there’s no need to hide it. I touch these clothes and smell these perfumes everyday. Be a sweetheart and take out my cock for me, darling. If you really plan on leaving, consider it a farewell gift. Good… Good fucking girl… Nobody makes my cock twitch like you do. With all my money, I couldn’t buy a fucking whore that can handle my dick like you can.

You were some nameless little drone, tucked away and doomed to be forgotten until I saw you. I wanted you. Do you hear that? Are you listening, miss? My cock twitched the second it saw you. I imagined bending you over that table and stealing you away from your manager, your boyfriend, anyone that would stand in my way. And I still feel that way.

Even though… Fuck, yes pump my cock like that… even though you fucked up that little fucker of a case last month or the Evans case three months ago. Your time under my wing has been marked by little mistakes. But do you know why I keep you? Because you make me cum so hard. You drain every drop of stressed up spunk from my balls and you do it like a pro. Even now, when you’re so hell bent on leaving your hands are threatening to make me buckle. Now bend over. Yeah, on my desk. Nobody’s going to walk in, sweetheart.

Shiiit, you’re as tight as the day I first fucked you. You know what I really like about you? What makes you better and more addictive than Miss Timbers on the third floor or Mrs Raynard in the legal department? You have better tits and a much, much tighter pussy. You’re so much fucking better than them. And you know what that means, don’t you? It means you could make so much more money than them.

You and I both know you’re not my secretary on merit alone. Walk out of here and there won’t be a single firm in the city that’ll pay you as much as I do. Not nearly as much. And all you have to do to keep up your fancy little brunches and sweet cars is get on your knees every once in a while and do what you were born to do. Just. Suck. My. Cock.

That’s all. It’s that easy. Sure, there'll be a little bit of fucking in between, but we both know you enjoy that. What do you say to that? Yes? Atta girl. Now go and lock the door. I’m going to slip out of these trousers. We’re going to need to celebrate your new payrise.

[ghoulishomens]

Noah accidentally walking in on you and Nicky getting hot and heavy after smoking a little too much and he’s so embarrassed and apologetic and then the next thing he knows he’s involved.

AAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH

nick's got you pinned down, clothes off, and kissing you wherever his lips can reach. he's usually shy and nervous, but that's totally different when he's stoned. he's possessive, needy, and dominant when he's had a good smoke.

he has his hand over your mouth. noah is staying over for the night, so if you want him to rearrange your guts, ya gotta be a bit quieter than usual even though he'd die to hear you scream his name.

he's about to start fucking sucking the life out of your clit until the door barges open. noah and his fucking lack of knowing what knocking is.

he sees the sight, and you can see the instant shift of wanting to ask nick something to "holy fucking shit what did i just walk in on"

he's a stammering mess, trying to apologize. he wants to leave to give you both privacy but god damn you both look so good he just wants to stare like O_O

you and nick share a rather interested look. i mean.... what's better than one guy fucking you? two guys fucking you!!!!! you coax noah to come over and he's immediately walking over like a lost puppy. it's got you and nick worked tf up.

nick opens his mouth to tell noah how you like to be ate out, but this man is a frequent pussy worshiping slut. he doesn't need any kind of instruction. he puts your legs on his broad ass shoulders and goes to fucking town.

it's so overwhelmingly good, feeling his tongue flatten against you as he closes his eyes. he's drowning in your taste, savoring everything you're giving him. you can feel yourself falling apart when nick glides two fingers into you. it's just so much, but you don't want it to stop!! they are giving you the best experience ever and it's so exciting <33

nick has to grab noah's hair and pull him away to start fucking you. noah happily takes his place underneath you while nick is in between your legs. it's got nick all flustered, seeing the love of his life lying on top of his best friend, spread out, and ready to be dicked down. his head is all fuzzy from just the sight alone.

they build a perfect rhythm in meer seconds. when nick thrusts into you, noah pulls out. when noah thrusts in, nick pulls out. It's a perfect way to make sure you're not empty. they've gotta keep the slut nice and full of cock <33

the feeling and sensations inside you are so fucking intense. they're moving so fast and so hard that all you can do is go limp and moan with the occasional moan of their names.

noah has his hand around your throat, squeezing the sides of it as he approaches his orgasm. he's rambling on in your ear about how he's gonna cum and fill you up so you can feel him for days :((( it's turning nick on seeing you fall apart for both of them but he holds off. he wants you two to cum first!!

it happens so fast!! noah cums so deep inside you and it's got you shivering from the pleasure. with nick still thrusting, noah moves his hand to your clit and goes fucking hard on it. that's all it took for you to cum all over nick's cock. you can see the love and the excitement in his eyes. he's having the time of his life :(( he just loves you both so much!!!

he grips onto your hips and thrusts just a few more times before he cums deep into you as well. he's dragged down onto the bed by noah as he takes it upon himself to clean you and nick up.

he doesn't want to overstimulate either of you, so instead of his mouth, he opts for a warm towel to wipe you both clean. he's littering you both with kisses and words of gratitude for letting him experience such amazing feelings with you both.

when he's done. he moves back onto the bed and holds you both to him. he plants kisses on both of your heads. his heart is beaming with love :(( you both mean so so much to him <33

even though he's the one holding you both and whatnot. he falls asleep first. it's the cutest sight, seeing him blissed out and relaxed <33

you and nick share one last look, telling each other that this will, in fact, happen again <33

[shaunashipman]

I don’t mean this as a diss, but I feel like if certain buddie shippers get buddie they still won’t be satisfied? I hope that makes sense. It’s just as a lurker in this fandom there’s a clear difference in both sides. One keeps moving goal posts (as others said) and quite literally conspiring every little thing in interviews, actors social media, and even plotting against people, and I know the others aren’t innocent all the way but they’re handling their ship with a more open minded attitude. I guess what I’m trying to say is if their day does come of a canon buddie, don’t they think they should calm down a little? Maybe it’s just me but carrying all these negative emotions and unleashing them so big before what they’re calling the “path to Buddie” but I don’t think I’d be completely satisfied celebrating. And then I worry their expectations are too big for what the actors and writers can deliver, especially if it’s hard to break from their habit as shippers.

oh they most definitely won't be satisfied, they've built it up too big. they'd cheer in the moment, however it would happen, but by the next episode, when it doesn't become the Buddie Show and their relationship isn't shown exactly as they pictured, they'll riot. because they want a fanfic played out by the actors, not the actual show

and I think the bucktommy side has taken notice and we've consciously tried to do the opposite. yeah, some of us were probably disappointed we didn't get more of them in the last two eps (🙋‍♀️) but the majority of us had been sure to temper our expectations in all our theorizing, so we were more than happy with what we did get; even with all my thoughts on how s8 will go, I still remind myself that Lou isn't confirmed yet, there could still be a between seasons break up, whether for creative or practical reasons. I'd be extremely disappointed, and think it would make very little sense from a creative pov giving where they left off, but it's still something I keep in mind (if at the very back lmao) and I think a lot of others do too

it kind of sucks that we do have to basically add these disclaimers, when before fandom would just understand that, even with canon ships, 99% of what we speculated was never going to happen, but with the wall between the cast/crew and the fans being so eroded, it's important to keep it in mind

[skzdust]

You're Better

Part 2

This is smut. MINORS DNI.

Request from @velvetmoonlght! I'm sorry it took so long, hope it was worth the wait!!

Summary: Felix and you have had a slightly strange relationship since fucking in the library last week. You're getting together for a "study session" tonight at Felix's apartment, but what happens when his roommate Bang Chan gets home...

Pairing: Academic rival!Felix x afab (she/her) reader

Includes: rivalry, penetrative sex, rivals with feelings, enemies to lovers, unprotected sex (please use condoms and pee after sex!), oral sex (m receiving), begging, hair pulling, "good girl", surprise but consensual voyeurism, fingering

Word count: 1.5k

Taglist (Comment on a post/send an ask if you'd like to be added): @weirdowithaphone, @caught-in-the-afterglow, @palindrome969, @skzstan12345

Reblogs, likes, comments all appreciated!! Thank you for reading!!

Part 1

Masterlist

-----

When you’d gone over to Felix’s apartment, you’d planned for it to be a study session, you really had.

But you weren’t complaining now that his fingers were inside you. You moaned, leaning your head back. “Fuck, Felix.”

“You want more, baby?” He curled his fingers up, hitting a spot inside you that made you see stars.

“Yes, please, want your cock inside me.”

Felix made a strangled groan. “God, I’m so screwed.”

“What?” You opened your eyes, looking up at him.

“You.” He said simply, moving faster.

You swallowed another moan, keeping eye contact with him. “What does that mean?”

“I still hate you.”

“I thought you wanted to go on a date with me?”

He thrust his fingers into you, and you inhaled sharply. Pleasure washed over your body like a wave, and you whined as his other hand tangled in your hair.

“I did. I do. That’s the issue.” He all but growled. “I want to be better than you at everything, and I wanna fuck you sore, but I also wanna take you out to dinner.” He says it with disdain, his grip tightening in your hair.

“So?”

“I’m not used to it. I don’t like it.”

“Have you considered maybe you just have a little crush on me?” You grinned.

He rolled his eyes and pulled his fingers out of you. “Want me to stop?”

“No, no!”

He teased around your entrance. “Then we’re done talking about feelings.”

“Okay, we’re done talking about feelings.” You whimpered. “Will you fuck me now?”

He laughed, low and dangerous, unwinding his fingers from your hair and letting you go. “Yeah, baby.”

Felix and you have had a strange relationship since first fucking in the library a week ago. You’d come to his apartment one evening a couple of days later, needy, and he’d happily fucked you again. And now here you were, on his couch, a throw pillow propping your hips up as he unbuckled his belt.

The date he’d mentioned—as well as further discussion on what exactly this meant—hadn’t happened. You’d had a brief talk in the library about sexual boundaries, clarifying and elaborating upon what you’d agreed to in the heat of the moment, and you mentioned your IUD. Your conversation just now was about as deep as you’d gotten emotionally, though.

But you didn’t even care about that as his belt fully came off and he pulled out his cock. Actually, the ache between your legs became the only thing you really cared about.

He looked at you, gently stroking himself. “Open your mouth.”

“What?” You said, but followed his instruction.

“Good girl.” He pushed the fingers that had just been inside you into your mouth. “Wanna clean off my fingers for me before we start?”

You moaned around his fingers, tasting yourself. He pressed down on your tongue, and you opened your mouth wider. “Good.” He muttered before taking them out, leaving your lips parted and your eyes big. “God, you look like you were made to take cock in that pretty mouth.”

“Then take my mouth.” You whispered.

He lifted an eyebrow. “I thought you wanted me to fuck you?”

“If you want me to suck you off first, and then fuck me…” You bit your lip, wondering if he’d go for it.

“God, baby, you’re gonna be the death of me.” He whispered, then motioned to the floor with a nod of his head. “On your knees, ‘kay?”

You couldn’t get there fast enough, kneeling by the couch.

Felix’s fingers ran through your hair, and you closed your eyes, the sensation intimate.

“Can you open your mouth for me, gorgeous? Can’t wait to feel your throat around me.” He gently tugged back on your hair so you were looking up at him.

Jesus. He was pretty from every angle, but looking up at him from between his legs was a new one. You opened your mouth.

Felix maintained eye contact with you as he eased himself into your mouth, letting out a low moan. “Shit, you feel good.”

Felix began to gently fuck your mouth. His fingers twisted in your hair, and the not quite pain only turned you on more. You whined, high and pathetic.

“Want me inside your pussy, baby?” He crooned. “Want me deep inside you? Want me to cum inside?”

“Yes,” You moaned around him, your eyes unfocusing as you focused on breathing between his strokes. “Yes, I do.”

“Good girl. Good, good girl. Fuck, so good for me.”

He kept going, and you swam in a haze of strong sensations and “good girl”s and the aching need burning in your veins until you could tell from the sounds he made and the way he twitched that he was close, and he—

The lock to the apartment door clicked and opened.

You both froze, looking up.

Felix’s roommate, Bang Chan, stood in the doorway, eyes wide. “Um…”

“Chan!” Felix nearly jumped away from you, fingers shaking as he did up his fly. “I—er—sorry to do things in the living room—”

“No need to apologize.” Chan’s eyes dropped to you, and he smiled. “Nice to meet you, y/n.”

“You know my name?” You turned to Felix, wiping the spit off your chin. “Have you been talking about me?”

He rolled his eyes. “Only to complain.”

“Complain about how you drive him crazy!” Chan locked the door behind him. “Felix is really into you, and—”

“Shut up!��� Felix death stared at Chan.

You laughed. “So you do have a little crush on me!”

He turned his glare on you. “Chan is messing with you.”

“Sure.”

It was quiet for a moment.

“Well, I mean, don’t stop on my account.” Chan waved his hand and started to walk to his room, you guessed.

“Y/n…” Felix looked at you.

“Yeah?”

“We talked a little about voyeurism when we were in the library, if you remember that.”

“I do.” You nodded, smiling. You could tell where this was going, and you were excited.

“Do you want to ask Chan if he wants to watch?” He all but purred.

“Chan?” You said loudly, in response.

He turned around. “Hm?”

“Do you wanna watch?”

He blinked. “What?”

“Do you wanna watch Felix fuck me on your couch?”

Chan looks to Felix. “You’d be okay with me watching?”

“More than okay.” Felix’s hands suddenly moved back to your hair. He knew it was your weak point, and you moaned as he tugged on it. “C’mon, come watch me fuck my girl.”

If you weren’t kneeling, you might’ve fallen over.

My girl.

Felix’s girl.

It turned you on more than you could effectively express.

Chan sat down in one of the living room chairs, unzipping his pants. “Don’t mind me.”

Felix smirked. “Let’s put on a show for Chan, baby.”

You nodded, opening your mouth again.

“You’ve earned my cock at this point, on your back.”

You eagerly climbed onto the couch, pushing the pillow back under your hips and spreading your legs. Felix lined himself up with your entrance, then looked over at Chan. “Watch her face. She just falls apart on my cock. You’ll see.”

Your body was on fire with desire, and Felix’s words only stoked the flames. When he pushed inside you, your mouth fell open, the taste of his cock still on your tongue, and you let out a moan that might’ve been Felix’s name.

“Fuck.” Chan said, his voice heavy. “She is falling apart. It’s really fucking hot.”

“Isn’t it?”

Something about the way they talked about you, as if you weren’t there, was turning you on even more. Your hips bucked up, seeking friction.

Felix held them down. “Oh, baby, let me take my time.” He seated himself entirely inside you, and then… nothing. He didn’t fuck you, just occasionally twitched inside you.

You whined. “Fuck me, please.”

Chan’s voice was a low rumble. “She’s so fucking needy.”

“I know.” Felix gave you one thrust, and you sighed in pleasure.

“Felix, more, please.”

“Begging.” Chan noted. “Bet you love that shit, Lix.”

“You’re right, I do.” Felix thrust into you twice. “When she tells me she’s close, and begs me to keep going, begs me to cum, that’s the best part.” He stilled again. “But I wanna drag this out, since you’re here. Drive her a little insane.”

“Felix, please, please don’t drag it out, let me cum.”

He laughed and looked at you, eyes smoldering. “I’m gonna fuck you how I please, alright, baby? Tell me yellow or red if you need to, and we’ll go from there, but if you don’t, I’m gonna keep teasing you.” He fucked into you again, looked back at Chan. “I’m gonna let her cum, but I wanna make her work for it, first.”

“Yes, Felix.” You whined.

“Don’t make her wait too long.” Chan said. “I wanna see what that pretty face looks like when it’s too drunk on your cock to think.”

You involuntarily tightened around Felix at that, and he groaned. “I think she’s pretty cock drunk already, but don’t worry, Chan. We’re just getting started."

[everythingisawayoflife]

just rewatched the episode of justice league unlimited when circe makes bruce sing “am i blue?” in order to turn diana back to normal and my sappy little brain is now thinking of bruce singing his boys lullabyes.

like think - a nightmare of dick’s gets too bad. he watches his parents fall to their deaths over and over and he can’t stop it. he wakes, screaming, and bruce dashes in and is caught off guard when dick’s sobbing into his pajamas. it’s the first thing he thinks of so he hums, low at first, but then he starts quietly singing the lyrics to some lost jazz song from the great american song book as he holds dick and within those three minutes, dick’s out like a light.

then comes jason. he gets a little too reckless in the field and he’s got himself an injury, a pretty bad one too. normally he sucks it up and takes the pain on like nobody’s business but maybe this one is just a little more painful. he’s just too tired and is now just an exhausted kid who’s emotionally overwhelmed. and he cries. cries like he’s never cried before. he’s in a lot of pain and wants it to stop. but then comes bruce with his gentle melodies and deep voice and suddenly the pain isn’t so bad anymore.

(thinking about how after the whole death and revival thing and maybe jason and bruce are on shaky terms and while he’s not exactly clamoring to be with bruce, he buys himself a dandy little music box containing a song a certain someone use to sing to him and the first time he hears the melody, he sheds some silent tears. he listens to it any time he just needs to be calm. don’t tell bruce)

or there’s tim who doesn’t no when to say no (to staying up late, that is). three, four days go by and he’s still at a case he can’t just crack. he needs to sleep and he knows this but he’s this close. eventually he can’t keep trucking and he passes out all over his assortment of files and clues. he’s found drooling on one file and bruce resolves to just carry his kid to bed. he starts humming snd singing while he helps an unconscious tim get ready for bed. what bruce doesn’t realize is tim woke up when he felt the altitude change of being carried. bruce’s singing voice becomes one of tim’s favorite sounds in the whole world and he resolves to hear it anytime he can.

then we get to damian. he’s in a new environment, he doesn’t really trust much. then the unthinkable happens: he gets sick. its so remarkable cause he’s never gotten sick before. or, at least had someone to care for him. it’s some pesky little flu bug but it hits hard. he tries hiding himself away, not wanting to be seen as weak. in the middle of the night, he throws up. it hurts like a bitch. his stomach pushes but there’s nothing left to give. damian finds he can’t stand and bruce finds him. damian tries shooing him away, he doesn’t want to be seen as weak but eventually he just stops. he’s tired. he throws his head back down in the toilet and bruce lays a hesitant hand on his son’s back. when he’s not pushed away, he rubs soothing circles. again, he’s not dismissed. then, he sings. through the blood pounding in his ears, damian hears his father’s voice above the noise. it helps quite a bit.

that got longer than expected. i will now be listening to “am i blue?” on repeat. kevin conroy you are so loved and so missed.

[medusapelagia]

Girls' Night [NSFW]

First of all a HUGE thanks to @dragonflylady77 that's the was super quick in beta reading this! And... this is my first wlw fic so I hope it's not a total disaster XD!

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Stevie Harrington/Billie Hargrove WT: wlw, genderbending, enemies to lovers, modern AU, college AU, roommates, strap on, cunnilingus, Billie uses pet names for Stevie, Billie is Stevie's gay awakening, fingers sucking Words: 6443

tagging those who were interested ;): @romeren, @idkevenknowwhattoput, @womp-womp-waa, @nikkitheseance

@akichania, @kiraixi, @bbygirlbilly @katyawriteswhump, @darleenjade

Read here or on AO3

Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

God, her mom always said she wasn’t the brightest girl and she was right, as always.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

The air is freezing and she’s walking around in a super short dress and high heels because Jonathan was supposed to drive her to the party, which he did, and drive her back, which he didn’t. Yeah, because Miss Stephanie Harrington, the richest girl on campus, managed to be dumped by the charity case Jonathan Byers, during a party, in front of half the college’s students. And to make things even worse, in front of Billie Hargrove and her boyfriend Tommy Hagan. The same Tommy that followed Stevie around for years.

Not that she’s jealous of Tommy. She never liked him, she’s fucking jealous of Billie.

Yeah, because, as if it wasn’t enough that Stevie’s personal life was wrecked in front of everyone, it should have happened in front of the hottest and cleverest girl in the entire school, the same one who sleeps on the other side of her room: Billie Hargrove.

Fuck.

Crossing her arms around her chest to warm herself a bit, Stevie keeps walking down the deserted street while she replays the entire night in her head again and again, trying to understand where she fucked up so badly. She asked her boyfriend to go to a stupid college party, what’s wrong with that? Would it have killed Jonathan to go to a party for once? She always went with him to see all those boring niche films with subtitles and never once she complained, but the one time she asked him to come with her, and he begrudgingly agreed to come, the night ended up with him accusing her of being too mundane and careless about the world, and then he left her at a party, alone, in high heels and clothes far too light for going home on foot. She should have probably called an Uber, but she felt too humiliated, and when Billie stepped toward her, looking at her with a mix of astonishment and compassion, she couldn’t stand it anymore, and she just fled like a thief.

That's how she found herself walking alone, at night, trying to get back to the dorm. Stevie's still deep into her thoughts when one of her heels gets stuck in a manhole. Perfect. Just fucking perfect. She tries to free herself, pulling her stuck foot free, but she loses her balance and falls onto the pavement, scratching her knee. For a moment her brain freezes, occupied with trying to understand how liking designer dress and an alternative guy brought her to sit on the ground, holding her bleeding knee and crying out loud like she broke a leg.

It’s just a scratch, Stevie should grab the fucking shoes and walk back to the dorm, but the world is ending right here and there, her heart is broken in so many pieces she feels she’ll never be able to fix it, and even if her leg isn’t broken, her knee hurts badly and it’s bleeding, and she doesn’t even have a fucking tissue because she chose a bag so small it barely fits her phone and her keys. She wipes her eyes, wondering how terrible she was in a previous life to be treated like this in this one.

Her mom never liked her. Stevie's legs are too long and muscular, her chest is too big, her smile is too wide, and she's not feminine enough for her mom’s liking. And her boyfriend dumped her because she’s too dumb to understand that her designer clothes are made by a brand that employs child labor in Bangladesh, wherever that stupid country is. And every lesson she’s attending is so fucking complicated that she spends all her time with books and tutors. But no matter how hard she tries to study and to make new friends, she’s always the rich girl whose father’s name is engraved on the new wing of the campus. And she’s definitely not living up to the expectations.

A car passes by, stops a few feet from her. After a few moments of awkward silence, the driver puts the car in reverse and stops right at Stevie’s side. The girl tries to avoid making eye contact with whoever might be in the car, she's already in deep shit and doesn't need to add being kidnapped to the list of bad things that happened today, but the voice that comes from the car sounds awfully familiar. 

“Harrington? Are you ok?”

God no. Please no. Everything but not this.

“Hey? Did you drink too much? Do you want me to drive you back to campus?”

“I’m fine,” Stevie replies, her eyes pinned on the pavement in front of her, trying desperately to maintain a little bit of dignity.

“Harrington, you’re sitting on the pavement, you’re bleeding and your lips are blue. Get in the car. Come on.” The blond woman in the car leans toward the passenger seat to open the passenger’s car door. When Stevie doesn’t move, she smirks, “I’m not going to bite you.”

“As if I care about that. Where’s Tommy?”

“I dumped him.”

“You what?” Stevie asks, turning toward her.

“Oh, Stevie…” the woman sighs, almost with sympathy. “Come on. Get in the car. It's fucking freezing and you’re dressed like a…”

“Like a slut. Thanks. I know. Jon already told me.”

“I was going to say like a princess, but that's not important. Get inside. Please.”

Stevie stares at Billie for the longest time. They have been roommates for two years and she never heard her use the word please. Not even once in two years. 

She tilts her head up to stop the tears, as her mother taught her, even if her makeup is already ruined, and gets up, limping a little before getting in the car and slamming the door closed just to piss Billie off. The other girl glowers at her and when she reaches out with her hand toward Stevie, the brunette instinctively flinches, moving closer to the door to avoid getting hit, but Billie is just turning on the heating.

“I don’t punch women, Harrington. Not even the bratty one who tries to damage my precious baby.” 

“Sorry.”

“You’re fine,” Billie replies, her eyes on the street.

The air quickly warms up and Stevie lets out a little satisfied moan.

“Better?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” she replies, still looking out of the window, “Thank you for picking me up, and sorry about the door.”

“What happened to your knee?”

“I fell.”

Billie turns toward her with a soft smile. “I get that, babydoll, I was wondering how bad it hurts.”

“Not too bad. But I need a tissue to stop the bleeding.”

“My bag is in the back, grab it, there should be a packet of tissue somewhere.”

“Your bag?”

Billie turns toward her confused. “Did you hit your head too, Harrington? Should I drive you to the hospital?”

Shaking her head, Stevie takes the bag from the back, staring at it for a long time before daring to open it and look inside. The bag is the most precious possession a woman has, it contains all her secrets, but Billie doesn’t seem to worry at the idea that Stevie will snoop around in her bag, so she roots around until she finds a little orange packet of tissues and takes one out to dab the cut on her knee. She hisses a little, cleaning the cut from the dirt.

“We should disinfect it as soon as we get back to the dorm.”

“We?”

Billie snorts. “I’m quite used to patching up people. Especially myself.”

“Oh, yeah. I almost forgot you are on the boxing team.”

“Yeah, that’s why.” Billie chuckles, and Stevie stares at her in confusion, feeling that there’s something she’s missing and feeling too dumb to understand what that is. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.” Billie winks, before pointing at her bag. “Would you mind getting me a cigarette and lighting it up for me?”

“Lighting it up for you?”

“I’m driving, if you hadn’t noticed, I would prefer to avoid getting into an accident because I was trying to light up a cigarette, so what do you say?”

Stevie nods sheepishly. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Of course, Billie needs help lighting the cigarette. The fact is that Stevie isn’t really a smoker. She smoked some weed a couple of times with Jonathan, but cigarettes aren’t really her thing. Pretending to know what she’s doing, she gets a cigarette from a crumpled packet, holds it between her lips, clicks a silver zippo open, and breathes in while the cigarette starts to burn. And she immediately starts to cough, holding the cigarette between her fingers.

Billie bursts out in a loud laugh while she grabs the cigarette from Stevie's trembling fingers. “Let me guess, not really a smoker, huh? I should have known. It’s not good for polite girls like you to hold something in their mouth, huh?”

“Fuck you! I just don’t like it,” Stevie replies, still coughing.

“There’s a bottle of water in my bag.”

“Who the fuck are you? Mary Poppins?”

Billie lifts an eyebrow, dragging some smoke with deep calculated breaths before lowering the car window and putting her hand out to keep the cigarette out of the car. “I like to be prepared,” she simply states, while she keeps smoking and Stevie can’t avoid thinking that Billie’s lips are exactly where her own were a moment before, and when Billie turns toward her, she catches Stevie staring at her lips. 

“You sure you don’t need to go to a hospital? You seem a little bit out of it.”

“I’m fine.”

Billie gives her a crooked smile. “Yeah. Obviously. That’s why I had to pick you up from the fucking street, crying like a toddler.” 

“Fuck you! You didn’t have to! And if it pisses you off so much, pull over and I’ll get back on foot.”

“With those shoes? Those are inappropriate weapons, not a way to walk.”

“They complement my dress beautifully!” Stevie snarls.

“Your legs complement that dress beautifully,” Billie says, and for once it doesn't sound like a snarky comment. "But you would look hot even wearing a trash bag. I’m merely suggesting that you don’t want to jog back home in high heels, especially since one is broken.”

Stevie stares at her shoes and realizes that, when she fell, the heel broke. The red sole of the Louboutin seems to mock her. Those stupid shoes cost a fortune and they broke on the worst night of her life. Great. Absolutely great.

If only she hadn’t insisted on going to that stupid party.

“It’s all my fault.” She sighs, covering her eyes with her hands when she feels her eyes burning, “I shouldn’t have insisted.”

Billie scoffs but doesn't reply.

“I knew Jonathan hates to party. But I insisted. I wanted to go to a fucking college party! And for what? To be humiliated and dumped in front of everyone and walk my fucking walk of shame? Great job, Stevie. You aren’t even able to keep a stupid boyfriend. Mom will be so fucking proud of you.”

“Jonathan was an asshole, but he’ll think twice before doing something similar to another girl. I’m sure it is not enough to heal your bruised ego but trust me when I say he’s pretty bruised too.”

Turning to stare at Billie, Stevie notices that the skin of her knuckles is broken. “What have you done?”

“Gave him a lesson in gallantry,” Billie replies, taking another deep drag from her cigarette.

“You didn't have to.”

“Why not? He was an asshole. He treated you like garbage. You always followed him around like a faithful puppy. Whatever he wanted to do you were on board, and the only time you asked him to do something you wanted to do, he acted horrified because you wore the wrong designer dress? Fuck him. If he really cared about child labor, he would have said something before, maybe even told you about which brand to avoid or not. The truth is that he knows shit and he doesn’t give a fuck, all he wants is to show the others he cares about the environment when he drives a car that pollutes more than a fucking plant.”

“Why are you so angry? He just… He…”

“He treated you like shit in front of everyone! That’s why I’m so angry!” Billie snaps.

“You treat me like shit every single day,” Stevie replies with a self-deprecating smile.

“I don’t. I’m not all cotton candy and pink clouds like you, and I might not be the most effusive person on the planet, but I respect you and I would have never treated you like he did. Why the fuck did you get into a relationship with someone like him? He doesn’t get you! All he cared about was shaping you like he wanted and showing the world he could change you, and that’s horrible. You’re your own person. You have your tastes and your ideas! That’s what makes you!” Billie complains, punching the steering wheel.

“Why are you so angry? It’s not like he did something to you.”

“Because he did it to you!” Billie growls. “And you are my roommate.” she quickly adds.

Stevie looks at Billie with confusion, she never thought they were so close that Billie might have gotten upset at the idea of her being mistreated by her boyfriend, but Billie doesn’t explain herself, so Stevie tries to change the subject. “What happened between you and Tommy?”

“That fucking asshole? He told me I was fucking crazy for punching Jonathan in the face, and I told him that if he liked him so much he could fuck him instead of me. Not that it was a great loss anyway, he definitely has no idea where the clitoris is and his sexual prowesses are way worse than he tries to sell you.”

“Why were you in a relationship with him if you despised him so much?”

Billie lifts an eyebrow, taking her time before answering, “My father. Tommy’s family is rich and well known, nothing better for his waste of a daughter.” Billie then takes a turn so sharp that Stevie’s body gets dragged toward Billie’s, and for a moment her shoulder bumps into Billie’s arm.

“Sorry,” Stevie mutters, trying to grab the handle inside the passenger door.

“My fault. I was going too fast.”

“You like to drive fast.” 

“I do. I love the adrenaline. I used to dream of becoming a Formula One driver when I was a kid. But guess what? I’m a fucking woman. So my father signed me up for ballet classes. Ballet. Me. Can you imagine?”

Billie’s tights are massive, and Stevie can’t really imagine her on her toes dancing the Nutcracker.

“I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“For your father. I know what it means to have someone that forces you to be different from what you are. I have been on a diet since I was a kid. I was always too much. Too big. Too tall. Too strong. Too noisy. Nothing I did was good enough for my mom. I played volleyball for years but my passion is basketball.” Stevie says, wrapping a lock of hair around her fingers. “Jonathan was the first choice I made on my own. Mom hated him from the first moment I told her about him, but I wanted to try something different. A man dedicated to doing something for the planet seemed like a good option. And maybe I even thought that he wasn’t going to leave me because where else would he have found another dumb rich girl? But it seems that he really didn’t care about the money.”

Billie reaches out and takes Stevie’s hand, “I’m sorry babydoll. He’s an asshole and he doesn't deserve you.”

“That’s what my Nonna used to say, but I’m starting to think that if no one deserves me, maybe that’s really something wrong with me. Why am I like this? Why can't I be like the other girls? I would pay good money to be just the rich dumb bitch everyone thinks I am… but I have feelings and I can’t hide them.”

“It’s a good thing, Stevie. You really care about people. I like that.”

“Yeah? Well, I fucking hate it. People step on my heart like it’s nothing and I just keep smiling politely, begging them to take another piece of my soul, and then I’m left with holes everywhere.”

“You need to find the right person. They’ll fill all your holes, and not only the one in your soul.” Billie winks, throwing the cigarette butt out of the window.

“You’re so gross,” Stevie replies, blushing.

Billie chuckles, parking the car, and getting to Stevie’s side before she can’t even open the door. “Do you think you can walk to the dorm or do you need me to carry you?”

“I can walk! It’s just a scratch!” 

Billie hums and puts Stevie’s arm around her shoulders and the two of them limp toward the dorm. Luckily, they don’t meet anyone in the parking lot or in the corridors, and when they finally get back to their room, Stevie plops on her bed with a loud moan, but her relief is short-lived because Billie drags her toward the edge of the bed, a red emergency kit in her hands. She takes a chair and gently lifts Stevie’s calf, putting Stevie’s foot on her leg.

“It’s not too bad. We just have to clean it with some antiseptic and put a nice tight bandage on it. No doggy style for at least a week.” Billie winks, holding Stevie’s foot when she tries to escape from her tight grip.

“Not that I have anyone to have sex with anyway,” Stevie replies, blushing even more.

“You never know. I’m sure that as soon as the campus finds out that you are single, there will be a line out of our door.”

“I doubt that. Everyone saw how stupid I was.”

“Everyone saw how rude Jonathan was. You were just having some fun,” Billie retorts, cleaning the cut with some peroxide pads. When Stevie hisses, Billie lowers her head and gently blows on the broken skin. “Better?”

Stevie doesn’t trust her voice so she nods, remaining as still as she can.

“Such a good patient. I might give you a lollipop once we are done,” Billy replies when she starts to wrap her knee.

“I don’t need it. It’s just a scratch.”

“Who’s the doctor?”

“No one? You’re no doctor!” Stevie chuckles.

“Fine, smartass, I’m no doctor, but I’m sure I have cleaned more cuts than you. So shut up and let me work my magic, okay?”

Stevie nods, feeling a little cramp in her stomach. The good kind of cramp. The kind she gets when she feels excited. Billie’s warm hands are gentle and softer than she thought.

“So no more Tommy, Stevie murmurs.

“No more Tommy.”

“You don’t look desperate.”

“Because I’m not. I already have eyes on someone else, and now that they are single too, I might even get my chance.”

“Oh… were they in a relationship?”

“Yeah. A shitty one.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Well, I wish you luck. Whoever they are, they'll be lucky to have you.”

“Do you really think so? I’m not exactly a catch. I work three minimum wage jobs to pay for my studies and I have a bad temper.”

“You don’t have a bad temper.” 

Billie quirks an eyebrow.

“Ok, you have a bad temper. But you’re not a bad person. You’re just passionate.”

“Passionate? I like that.” Billie chuckles, lifting Stevie’s foot, but then she stops, looking at the other girl in the eyes, holding the ball of her foot.

“Billie?” Stevie asks, trembling.

Without breaking eye contact, Billie bends down and kisses the sole of her foot and Stevie’s stomach cramps again.

“What… what are you doing?”

“What does it look like?”

“You… you kissed my foot.”

“I did. And I would like to kiss more of you. Would you like that?”

Stevie never thought about it, but now that Billie is sitting between her legs, staring at her with her icy blue eyes, all she can think about is that she would like it very much. But Billie is a girl, and they shouldn’t.

“Are you gay?” Stevie asks, biting her lips. She has seen Billie walking around with girls before but never suspected that she was gay. And she had Tommy.

“Bi. And if you want it, I’d like very much to fuck you.” Billie replies, harsh and honest as she always is, and Stevie feels a familiar warmth move from her stomach to the folds between her legs.

“What? How?”

“There are ways. Many ways. Do you know that black box I asked you not to touch? It might contain a few toys. And my strap-on.”

“Your… oh god. Oh god. You have…  Did you… Did you fuck someone in our room?” Stevie asks, covering her mouth as if those words were too much for her.

“Of course I did, Stevie. How could I not? I have lived two years with you: a fucking goddess, sleeping on the other side of my room! There’s only a finite amount of masturbation you can enjoy before starting to need something more. And I wanted and needed something more. Something I never dared to ask you. But tonight, when you looked at me in the car, I felt it. I felt the electricity. Tell me, am I wrong, Stevie?”

No, she’s not. Stevie’s sex is throbbing with excitement.

Staring with no shame at Stevie's pink thong, Billy murmurs, “Your thong is soaked, baby. Do you want me to do something about it?”

Stevie tries to cover herself with her hands, both aroused and ashamed at the surprising turn the night has taken. Less than an hour ago, she was crying on the pavement, and now Billie is looking at her with hunger and desire, and Stevie really doesn't know what to do. And there’s her little problem too. The one she’s never told anyone.

“I... I can’t.” she mutters, and Billie tilts her head in confusion.

“What do you mean, you can’t?”

“I… I can’t come. Okay? I’m… I’m broken. And you’ll get bored and then you’ll be mean to me, and we still have two years to spend together and…”

Billie gently lays Stevie’s foot on the ground and sits next to her, grabbing her chin and turning her head toward herself, “What are you saying?”

“I have… Jonathan said I should have gone to see a doctor because I’m not normal. I… have never… not even alone,” Stevie tries to explain.

“Let me get this right: the shitty boyfriend who publicly humiliated you, told you that you have some kind of illness because you never had an orgasm?”

“Yeah…”

“Should have punched him even harder,” Billie mutters, her piercing blue eyes fixed Steve’s caramel ones. “The only problem you have is a boyfriend too selfish to dedicate enough time to your necessities. I’m sure we can fix this. And even if we can’t, I don’t care, okay? I’ll keep going down on you until you’ll beg me to stop. And if you are into it, I will keep going even then. I want to bury my head between your thighs, hold you open with my fingers, and eat you out until you’re screaming in pleasure. But first, I’d like to kiss you.”

Stevie loves kisses, but Jonathan never took enough time to kiss her, his kisses were sloppy and quick. Not an appetizer, just something he wanted to get rid of quickly.

“I’d love to kiss you. Can I?” Billie asks again and the only thing Stevie can do is nod.

“Please…”

“You’re made to beg, sweet girl, ideally kneeling at my feet, but this should wait a bit.” Billie chuckles, cradling the back of Stevie’s head before kissing her, nibbling at her lower lip, pulling it with her teeth before releasing it and making it bounce back. Billie cradles Stevie’s face between her hands while exploring her mouth with her tongue, and Stevie tastes the cheap punch in Billie’s mouth. She doesn’t know how long Billie kisses her for, but when she steps back and they lock eyes, she sees that Billie’s flustered and her lips are red from Stevie’s lipstick. 

Studying Billie’s face, Stevie feels hot and needy like she never felt before. Stevie brushes her thumb on Billie’s plump lips and the blond girl quickly catches it and starts to suck it. No one has ever sucked Stevie’s fingers, but the feeling of the rough tongue on her sensitive fingertips makes her shiver, jolting her hips to get some friction.

“You’re so needy. Did Jonathan treat you so badly? Didn’t he know what a treasure he was gifted?” Billie asks, getting closer, and their chests brush against each other, making Stevie shiver. Even under the clothes, Stevie’s nipples are hard and sensitive.

Billie quickly lowers the neckline of Stevie’s dress, freeing one of her rounded tits from the constriction of the expensive garment. Her soft skin has a long indented line made by the seam of her bra. 

“Poor thing. Did it hurt?” Billie asks, smiling like a wolf, “Did the bad bra hurt you? Or did it brush against your nipples just right? Sending shivers down your spine?” The blond girl licks her thumb and then starts to rub at Stevie’s nipple before pinching it hard enough to make Stevie whimper. The dark pink rosebud becomes even darker while Billie licks the long column of Stevie’s neck.

When she finally frees Stevie’s nipple, the girl moans loudly at the feeling of the blood rushing back.

“So sensitive,” Billie praises her, whispering in her ear. “How could Jonathan say that you’re frigid?” She chuckles.. “You’re so wet I could just slide into you and make it my home.” 

A shudder goes through Stevie’s body, while Billie’s right hand drops to Stevie’s knee, brushing gently against the inside of it, before moving up to her inner thigh. Tickling her.

Billie’s hands are calloused but gentle while they pet her, moving slowly but relentlessly toward the top of her legs. When she gets to Stevie’s thong’s elastic band, she stops, making swirls on the sensitive skin that connects her thigh to her sex.

“Is this ok?” Billie asks on Stevie’s lips, and Stevie nods, spreading her legs even further.

In the back of her mind, a voice that sounds like Jonathan’s calls her a slut, but she doesn’t care. Billie has shown her more kindness tonight than Jonathan in a year and a half.

“So needy. You’re so wet, baby. Is this all for me?” Billie whispers, making the words roll on her tongue, purring like a big cat. Or maybe a tiger.

Stevie nods, and her half-closed eyes widen when Billie spreads her labia with her fingers, and the fabric of the thong brushes against Stevie’s swollen clitoris. One finger gently slides under the thong and strokes her opened labia, taking Stevie’s breath away. A few more strokes and then Billie’s finger leaves the warm nest between Stevie’s legs and ends up in Billie’s mouth. Billie sucks on it, looking Stevie in the eyes. It’s so intimate and so hot. Stevie should close those stupid legs and push her away, preserving whatever is left of her honor, but Billie’s looking at her like she was the most succulent meal she had ever had, licking her lips with her pointy tongue. How come Stevie never noticed how pointy her tongue is?

“You taste so good. Can I have more? Pretty please?”

Billie’s tone is clearly mocking, but god, Stevie wants her mouth on her, so she grabs her pink thong and slides it down, revealing a perfectly shaved pussy. 

Grabbing the elastic band with both hands, Billie helps her out of it. 

“You want to lie on the bed for this,” she suggests.

“Why?”

“Because I’m going to eat you out for hours, and I don’t want you to get tired. You’re a pillow princess, aren’t you?”

That’s not true. Stevie has put the work in it when needed, but if Billie’s going to worship her, she won’t complain.

She quickly strips off the tight dress she was wearing, revealing a matching bra that is still cupping one of her breasts, while the other is dangling, the pink fabric crumpled under it. With a smooth movement, Billie unhooks her bra, which falls on Stevie’s thighs like a big pink feather.

Billie crawls on the bed, pushing Stevie toward the head of the bed and boxing her head between her elbows.

She stops just a few inches from Stevie’s mouth, waiting for her decision and Stevie doesn’t make her wait for long. She grabs Billie’s hair and yanks her towards herself, taking control of the kiss. If there’s something Stevie can do is kiss, and when Billie lets out a little moan, she feels really satisfied. But her satisfaction doesn’t last long, because Billie frees herself from her tight grip and grabs Stevie’s wrists, pinning her hands above her head.

“Are you going to behave?” Billie asks, “Are you going to keep your hands out of the way, letting me do what I want?”

“Are you going to make me behave?” Stevie asks with a mischievous smile.

Billie’s fingers brush over Stevie’s inner thigh. 

“I know that all this brattiness is just an act. You want to be a good girl. You want to be praised and cared for, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do,” Billie whispers before kissing her again. Just a peck. A gentle brush of lips against lips. “Be good, huh?” she says before diving between Stevie’s legs.

The first touch of Billie’s tongue feels like electricity and Stevie tries to close her legs, but Billie’s broad shoulders prevent her from moving too much. Billie lifts her eyes, staring at Stevie, and her pink tongue flickers again, brushing against Stevie’s clit. Stevie grabs the wooden head of her bed, holding to it to avoid moving her arms.

“Good girl,” Billie praises her, spreading the folds of her sex with her fingers before starting to lap at her again.

Stevie moans at the feeling that has nothing to do with what Jonathan used to do. He used to touch her with no patience, trying to open her quickly and efficiently, while Billie is definitely taking her time. She bites the soft skin on the inside of her thigh, while she penetrates her with a finger, and the sudden sting of pain makes her flinch.

“Sorry, couldn’t hold back,” The blond girl replies, lapping at Stevie again, moving her pointy tongue up and down, side to side, sucking at her swollen clit.

“It’s too much. It’s too much,” Stevie whines, her legs trembling like a newborn deer around Billie’s head. The girl lifts her head just enough to get a good look at Stevie. She’s still holding tight at the head of the bed like a good girl, so Billie keeps going down on her, pumping her fingers inside Stevie’s pussy faster and faster, while Stevie moans gibberish and squeezes her eyes.

That’s what her first orgasms feel like: like it was squeezed out of her, she thinks while all her spasming muscles relax, her hands release the grip on the head of the bed and she melts on the sheets like fresh snow.

Billie keeps fucking her with her fingers through the aftershock of her orgasm, slowly slowing down the pace, then she cleans her mouth with the back of her hand and crawls toward Stevie’s face.

“You ok?” Billie asks softly, her blonde hair curled by the sweat on her forehead.

Stevie nods, unable to talk, and Billie grins. “See? Nothing wrong with you. You orgasmed just fine.”

Stevie slaps her, trying to shut her up, but she’s so uncoordinated that Billie easily stops her hand.

“Do you want to stop or do you want to keep going?”

Keep going? How?

Stevie blushes remembering the comment about the strap-on and her legs shiver.

“Would you like that? Would you like me to fuck you with my dick till you’re a moaning mess?”

Stevie’s cheeks burn while she nods, but she just had the first orgasm of her life and she wants more. She’s greedy like that.

Moving like a cat in the semi-darkness, Billie opens her closet and grabs a black box. Inside there’s a black adaptable harness and a few toys.

“Which one would you like, Princess?” Billie asks, showing her her dildos. Stevie grabs a black one, confused by the little tube on the side.

“That’s for ejaculation,” Billie explains, “Do you want to be filled with my cum?”

It’s so nasty. Girls don’t talk about ejaculation. But Billie is so confident and Stevie is wondering how it would feel for Billie to fill her with her cum, but then her eyes see a purple dildo. Her favorite color. It’s thinner than the black one but longer.

“This one?” Billie asks and Stevie nods quietly. 

“Great choice.” Billie winks, grabbing it and the harness. Billie quickly strips out of her tight jeans and her red shirt, remaining in a pair of red boxers with a huge wet stain on her groin. 

“You did that, baby. Are you proud of yourself?”

Stevie’s mouth feels immediately dry like the Sahara while she stares at the girl,  keeping her boxers on she adjusts her harness and pours a huge quantity of lube on her dick.

“Next time I’ll ask you to make it wet. But I want you on your knees while you suck my dick, so it’ll have to wait. Sadly.” She grins, spreading Stevie’s legs even farther and making herself comfortable between Stevie’s legs one more time. She strokes her dick, brushing it against Stevie‘s hole before starting putting it.

Billie’s dick is hard and a little bit cold, but she definitely knows how to use it. Stevie’s legs instinctively wrap around Billie’s waist, the ball of her feet digging into Billie’s back, urging her closer and closer.

“Just like that. Look how well you’re taking me,” Billie praises her while her dick opens Stevie like a flower.

Once Billie is seated comfortably inside her, she kisses Stevie, deeply and hungrily  before she starts to move. Her pace varies between deep and fast thrusts, and slow and strong ones, in a crescendo that makes them both moan loudly.

“Touch yourself,” Billie begs, “Touch yourself while I fuck you.”

Stevie nods, but instead of sucking her own fingers, she pushes them inside Billie’s devil's mouth and the woman immediately starts to suck them, making them wet with her spit.

Once Stevie starts to touch herself, she’s a goner. A few more trusts and she’s coming, screaming, but Billie quickly puts her lips on Stevie’s mouth, eating every moan directly from the source.

Billy holds her closer and keeps moving inside her while Stevie’s hips jolt against her out of her control.

“Look at you. Not bad for a girl who allegedly can’t come,” Billie whispers, kissing her cheeks.

When the waves of pleasure finally slow down and let her breathe, Stevie asks, “What about you?”

“You don’t have to reciprocate, babydoll. That’s not how it works, even if someone made you think it was,” Billie chuckles.

“What if I… what if I want to?” Stevie murmurs, blushing with embarrassment and biting her lower lip.

“You sure?”

Stevie nods, and Billy smiles.

“You could eat me out if you want to.”

“I… I want to but I have never done it before.”

“I can teach you. Would you like me to tell you what to do?” 

Stevie never nodded so quickly in her life. 

“Okay. Okay. That’s what we are going to do. I’m going to ride your face. We don’t want to hurt that pretty knee of yours, do we?” 

Stevie shakes her head, her eyes wide with excitement, while Billie removes her harness and her soaked boxers.. 

“Stick your pretty tongue out for me,” Billie asks, and Stevie immediately complies.

Billie moves swiftly, getting above Stevie’s face and it’s the first time Stevie sees a pussy that’s not hers so closely. Billie’s is different from hers: first of all, it is surrounded by a mass of blond curls that tickle her face, her labia are longer and pinker than hers and her scent is musky. Stevie can’t wait to taste her first pussy, so she tries to reach out for it.

“Calm down. We don’t want you to strain your neck. I plan on riding your face for a long time,” Billie chuckles, lowering herself onto Stevie’s face. 

As soon as Billie’s sex is within  reachable distance Stevie gives it a first shy lap. The taste on her tongue is metallic and spicy, almost intoxicating, and she laps it again, moaning. 

“You enjoying yourself baby?” Billie asks, with a satisfied smirk. “More?”

“Please.”

“So polite. If I had known that a taste of pussy would make you so soft, I would have hit on you sooner, pretty girl.” The blond woman chuckles. But her laugh quickly turns into a series of soft moans while Stevie keeps lapping at her sex, probing inside with her tongue as if her life depended on it.

Stevie sucks, licks, and nibbles, eager to give pleasure to the woman that just gave her the first two orgasms of her life.

“Stevie…” Billie moans, grinding harder against Stevie’s mouth. 

Stevie grabs Billie’s muscular tights, holding so tight as to leave bruises, keeping her pinned on her face until she feels the other woman squirm in pleasure, her mouth flooded with Billie’s juices.

“Fuck!” Billie moans, collapsing at Stevie’s side. “Not bad.”

“Not bad?” Stevie asks, disappointed, and Billie pinches her chin and turns Stevie’s face towards her.

“Best fuck I had in a long time,” she tells her, looking into her eyes.

“What now?” Stevie asks, feeling unsure.

“Now we clean up and we sleep. And tomorrow we’ll talk,” Billie promises her, and Stevie finds the courage to snuggle up to Billie, kissing her shoulder.

Billie turns around, moving Stevie's head on her chest, just above her beating heart.

“Tired?” she whispers.

“Yeah,” Stevie replies, trying to suffocate a yawn.

“Sleep. I’ll be right here when you wake up,” Billie murmurs into her hair, and Stevie falls asleep with a big smile on her face.

[sandyca5tle]

Slime HRT - 22 Months

Slime time again, and the goo keeps gooing.

General update on slime-ification - I’ve only got bones in my head left! All my musculature and squishy bits have dissolved now, so I’ve just got a skull floating in my goo. I noticed that all this dissolving happened way quicker than it had previously, which I’m guessing is due to my acid helping to break things down

I have to say, having your spine dissolve is very painful, turns out all those nerves do not enjoy being eaten away by acid/medicine. Additionally, having all those nerves change caused me to have various movement and coordination issues - I spend quite a bit of time over these past four months as a puddle of goo, just about able to shuffle towards food, which honestly sucked, not having proper control over my body is the exact opposite of what I want. Obviously there were moments when it was fine, and I was able to do things normally, but even then the pain typically persisted in the background.

One benefit has been that, since my spine fully dissolved, I’ve felt more in control of my body than ever, and while that might just be in contrast to having less-to-no control recently, I think I have actually improved. Some of my fine motor skills that I lost in the early stages have returned, and I can perform finer manipulations of and with my slime, and I just feel more connected to my body now, which is very neat.

I’ve been working under the assumption that my brain is still inside my skull, as I’ve heard you know when that goes, plus if I move my skull around I can get a little dizzy, so I’m pretty sure it’s still in there. On that note, yeah, I can move my skull around my body, since it’s the only part that isn’t goo, so there’s nothing really holding it in place. In theory I could take it out of my body, but I don’t wanna try that as I’m honestly afraid that could kill me (I think a lot of the lack of control while my spine was dissolving was due to the lack of connection to my brain to hold myself together while the nervous connections reconfigured to be slime), so for now I’ve got the neat party trick of being able to move my skull around my body.

Of course with all my fleshy bits melting away, I’ve had some interesting experiences with my senses and similar things. The first thing I’ll run through is eyesight - I didn’t have great eyesight before, but I found my eyesight slowly deteriorating which, especially combined with the struggle to remain coalesced from my spine degrading, was pretty terrifying. The only thing that kept me somewhat calm was being fairly certain that, as with my lungs, my body would learn to replicate the function of the organ. Fun fact - slimes don’t naturally have eyes, so when I lost my eyesight, it didn’t naturally come back. I sat for a decent while waiting in blackness, waiting for it to come back, much like I’d started absorbing air through my slime with my lungs, but it simply didn’t. The only reason I can see now is ‘cause I kinda just made it happen. I figured that even if it didn’t automatically happen, my body still had absorbed the organ, so it should be able to replicate its function, so I shaped myself some eyes, playing around with them until eventually I was able to see again. It seems short written out, but I was at this at least a good few hours, trying to work out how to replicate an eye - fortunately, it does seem like there’s at least an instinctive part of my new body that can help fill in gaps, so I didn’t have to consciously replicate every fine detail of an eye. 

I do have to say, it took me a while to fine tune everything, started off with it being all very blurry and desaturated, but I eventually found where I was before, and actually, once I took my glasses off, I was able to correct my eyesight altogether. I do wonder if I can go even further, but with the experience so fresh in my mind, I’d rather my body get used to having eyes again as a default before I mess around more. Despite 20/20 vision being very nice, it is a little sad for me to no longer need my glasses, I’d gotten used to them, and it’s kinda a shame to see them go. 

I do have to add, weird thing about slime eyes, since it’s all really just my slime seeing, I don’t need any depth to my eyes, frankly I don’t even need ‘eyes’ in the traditional sense - any part of my slime can see, I just have to choose to see from there and I can, so my eyes are just kinda indents in my face so that people have a reference point as to where I’m looking from. At some point I’ll mess around with additional eyes, but as before, I wanna make sure I don’t accidentally blind myself again.

Taste and smell are a pair that I’ll group together, since they’re linked in both humans and slimes anyways. Naturally, much like with my sight, I slowly lost both of them as the responsible parts were consumed by my slime, rendering me unable to taste or smell for a while. Honestly, compared to sight, this wasn’t such a bad loss - made meals very uninteresting for a while, but aside from that it was easy enough to work with. Honestly, I’m not sure I ever really got them back properly, despite trying, I was never able to force them back into being like I did with my sense of sight. One day I did begin to taste again I noticed, although I also noticed it had definitely changed. For one, I can kind of switch it on or off, and for another I can now taste anything I eat, regardless of if I put it in my mouth, or just absorb it. It’s neat, and also definitely adds to the lack of distinction between differently shaped parts of my body - my mouth doesn’t do anything special with regards to eating, it’s just habit to eat through there, I can eat, and taste, just as well through any part of my body.

Smell however hasn’t come back, well at least, not really in a human sense - I can ‘smell’ things, but it’s more like tasting the air, rather than actually smelling. I’m guessing it’s because I don’t have to breathe any more, so I’m not inhaling the particles, instead, I simply absorb them passively as I move around. Of course, since this is now tied to my taste, turning that off stops me from smelling, so I’ve been trying to find a middle ground where I don’t taste things all the time/don’t taste things I don’t wanna, but can still smell - haven’t quite found the sweet spot yet.

On the topic of the mouth becoming redundant as a defined part of my body, I also lost my voice once my vocal chords were subsumed. These, fortunately, were the easiest to restore, or at least achieve the same function, simply by vibrating my slime to produce sound. It took me a little while to work out how to do this, but given the amount of time I’ve spent learning how to shape my slime, it wasn’t too hard. I have to concede that at first it was very wet and gurgly sounding, but I spent time working to refine it, and now it sounds much better. The slightly funky part is that it does sound different to my old voice… which I’m not sure how to feel about - I wasn’t overly fond of my voice before but it was familiar, and suddenly having a new voice is weird - I’m still adjusting it to find a voice that’s overall closer to what I had before, but I am having fun playing around with it a little. Oh, and of course, as with tasting, since I can do this from anywhere on my body, again, the ‘speciality’ of my mouth is kind of redundant, it’s just simply a shape on my body which is familiar and a hangover from my time as a human.

Surprisingly, my hearing hasn’t been affected yet, not even sounding like I’m underwater - I’m guessing that since bones go last, my ear bones and all that haven’t gone yet… and that maybe my slime is acting in place of my eardrum, assuming that that has also been absorbed. I’m guessing that that’s gonna go at some point over the next few months.

As for the rest of what’s been going on, I’ve continued to try to practise controlling my acidity, and I’ve gotten a little better, I’m able to make portions of my body neutral pretty easily now, buuut if I stop focusing it immediately returns to acid, not to mention it’s only parts at a time. I did get a suggestion about using air pockets to produce safe areas within myself to store objects - kinda a fly in amber situation (y’know, since I’m literally sap) - which has been useful, although since I don’t breath anymore, providing the air has been a little difficult, but I worked out how to move air around with my slime so I can blow on things now, as well as make the pockets. Still gonna focus on my acidity control, but until I’ve got that down, I’ve got a good work around!

On the shaping front, I've added a few new features to my form. First, I gave myself horns, and made my ears kinda aquatic looking, kinda like fins, but ears, like merpeople are sometimes depicted with. Neither of these particularly do anything, but I like how they look. On the more ‘functional’ side I shaped myself a pair of cat ears, and some big ol’ dragon wings on my back, of course all made from slime. I put the ‘functional’ in quotation marks since neither really work for their intended function, so they’re also only decorative at this time, but I’m hoping I can get them to work eventually. The cat ears don’t work since I’m pretty sure I’m still reliant on my human hearing system which doesn’t connected to cat ears on the top of my head (unlike my fin-ears which just replaced/were reshaped from my old ears) and I haven’t worked out how to fly with the wings yet - and I’m honestly not sure if my slime will let me, gonna have to experiment more with them.

On top of all of these, and combined with having had a lot of issues holding my humanoid form over the past few months, I’ve actually been experimenting with a sort of slime ball form. It’s very nice, small, and definitely adds to my feeling of ‘slimeness’, plus it’s a form that fits my skull pragmatically and aesthetically (main reason i haven’t shrunk my humanoid form is ‘cause i’d have to keep my head approximated the same size to house my skull, which’d lead to weird proportions). Only issue is, while the hopping isn’t exhausting (no need to breathe and no muscles means exertion isn’t as bothersome) it does kinda rattle my skull, and therefore brain, around which makes me a little dizzy. 

Kinda can’t believe I’m saying this, but I can’t wait for my brain to go and leave me fully slime, it’s gonna be so awesome!

See y’all next time! Goobye! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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Tag List below cut

@calliecwrites, @friedsputnik, @now-entering-the-goop-zone, @scrubbinn, @lilacinthefog, @mint-and-authoress, @losttodreams, @redroversendjayover, @ariathelamia, @kanithedemoncat, @copperweave

[dracoqueen22]

Y'know, I understand. People don't go to AO3 to read original fic, and I mostly put it there for ease of reading for anyone who might actually be interested since there's not really anywhere else for original fic to go. Especially erotic original fic.

I put it up there knowing I wouldn't get interaction like kudos or comments or anything, but still secretly hoped someone might give it a shot. Just in casies.

I write my original fic for me and one other person so as long as they like it, I'm happy, and I'm doing my best to step away from that desire for engagement. It's a difficult process and I still sometimes fumble and get down, but I remind myself who I'm creating for and keep going.

Even so, I eagerly check every morning for the possibility of a kudos or a comment. So imagine my delight to open my inbox and find a comment on my recently posted oneshot for my original series.

"Yay!" I thought, and then I opened the comment, and immediately went, "Well, that sucks."

Because it basically said "hey great story do you think you could write xxx fandom character in xxx fandom because he's the best and also go check out my fics, too"

Which is already rude. But on top of that, the character and fandom they asked for are both something that not only have I ALREADY written, but it's a character who shows up in nearly all of them because it's a top five character for me.

My first instinct was to respond rudely. And now I want to delete it and not respond at all. Either way, it's not going to fix the excitement that plummeted into dismay that's now settled in my belly.

Woke up this morning fully intending to work on original fic.

Now I don't want to touch it.

So thank you random person. I'm going to go play a video game until I can forget this happened and pick myself up again.

In short,

PLEASE, for the love of gods and fandom, DO NOT do this, people. DO NOT shill for yourself in someone else's fic when it's clear you haven't even put in the effort to read them before. DO NOT request fanfic of something unrelated to the fic you're commenting on.

DON'T BE THIS PERSON.

[coldvampire]

trying soo hard to be normal and Good At Conversation this time

[shopwitchvamp]

me the absolute first split second people are acting up in the shop

[antianakin]

I'll never understand how some fans are so incredibly willing to just be okay with "it happened in a timeskip" to excuse bad writing lol. Like "oh yeah these two characters who have been enemies for like four seasons of a TV show had their entire reconciliation OFF SCREEN in the time skip between episodes right at the end so it works" or "oh yeah this character who was left basically broken had their entire growth and development where they came to terms with the thing that broke them in the time skip so it works" kind of stuff. Like that's literally the ENTIRE emotional climax of a story that's been building for a while and you're FINE with not getting to actually SEE IT???

Can't relate.

[hassianlovebot]

like on one hand i understand why people don't like subira at first, but i'm also getting tired of seeing people shit on her without actually getting to know her. and i know how that sounds, but she's literally fine. like yes death to cops but the in game order lady isn't the evil witch come to kill zeki and reth that everyone thinks she is. and they would know that,, if they did her quests,, or at least spoiled themselves and looked at the wiki,,,

it's getting embarrassing honestly