#i say as i inflict nothing good on other people

[snackugaki]

hi sorry hello excuse if i could just pardon trying to get through sorry just lemme makikiraan po it’s okay gonna sumimasen squeeze in right here perdón yeah no it’s fine just excusez moi just gotta gonna commit a little words crime and i’ll be outta your hair hha ha a

... my humor isn’t so much low hanging fruit as it’s the fruit on the ground that the wasps have eaten and gotten drunk from the fermentation and are uselessly trying to sting the air

click through to see flowers given to people for their gorgeous gorgeous work

... i legit don’t know the general etiquette for tagging people you don’t know two days in a row... 

w elp; y’all should read up, 10/10 i love

Odd Man Out by the @threestripeslider​

We’ll Meet Again, Soon @chiangyorange

Mutant Ninja Midlife Crisis by @mutantninjamidlifecrisis

Trial and Error by @apatheticrobots

Replica by @kathaynesart

EDIT: .......... i forGOT MNMC’S RED CRESCENTS  FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF but I remembered his dumb nipple dents, call that equivalent exchange

[songofwizardry]

ways we know that i have a mountain of work-related stuff i have to get done before term begins on monday: i have just spent two hours reading about different plasmodium species and going down a rabbit hole of malaria prevention programmes and finding on youtube those very 2000s videos that used to come on tv about using mosquito nets

[eustasskidagenda]

anon asked: Hi! I just read your Kid, Zoro, Law & Sanji hc with a s/o afraid of having sex and I just loved it! Your writing is amazing and I really enjoyed it. I struggle with vaginismus so I pretty much know how stressful this situation could be. But I’m actually curious to request you the same hc but with much BIGGER boys, especially Doflamingo, Crocodile and Katakuri. Please feel free to add other big men bc I honestly can’t get enough of them.😭😭😭

Hi hi! So I feel really dumb because I accidentally deleted the request, but luckily, I had copied/pasted the text of my doc before. But sorry, anon D: Anyway, thank you so much for liking my work and for requesting! That was pretty fun to write. I decided to add King and the sweet Corazon. And before starting, please have a look at this, lol. Those guys are so BIG, help.

☆Doflamingo, Crocodile, Katakuri, King & Corazon with a s/o afraid of having sex

CW (generals) : smut, MDNI, v!sex, f!reader, oral sex (reader receiving), fingering (reader receiving), size kink

WC : Oh my God, I got carried away... 4,3k. Enjoy. :D

⇢ You can read the part one here & the part three here

Doflamingo

CW : a lot of teasing, creative use of devil fruit, slight praise, slight dirty talk, unprotected sex, pet name

Doflamingo is, let's say, complicated. Of course, he considers you as a part of the Donquixote family, and he cares deeply about his close ones. But, on the flip side, he can't help but love when people are stressed or afraid because of him. It plays with his constant need for dominance. So first, he would grin, almost laugh, and be extremely pleased with himself. "My poor little bird is afraid… because of my size?" While running his fingers along the length of his cock through his pants. "I'll make it good for you, don't worry, just leave it to me." 

Doflamingo craves dominance, so he would be more than satisfied with this situation, his eyes roaming over your body with eagerness. He's a really patient man and also loves to play and tease you all the time. "Lay down comfortably on the bed." He would say, placing his heavy, large hands on either side of your hips, slowly pushing you down on the mattress, his eyes shining with nothing but pure desire. 

He loves how tiny your body looks when he's towering over you. It makes you look so vulnerable. Oh, sure, he loves when his s/o is smaller than him. Again, it plays with his constant need of domination. He finds it fascinating that he could destroy you with one hand. Luckily, you're his precious bird, so he would probably play with you and inflict some pain on you, but only what you're able and willing to take.

His hands would be surprisingly feather-light while running all over your body, tracing all of your curves, and fondling your breasts. Then, pinching your nipples, rolling them between his thumb and index, delighted by all of your shivering and sighs. 

"Mh, you're so needy, y/n" with a low, teasing laugh as he slowly runs his fingers down your trembling thighs, tracing along the sensitive skin before slowly, really slowly reaching for your wet folds. He would smile, his eyes fixed on your pussy, fascinated by how needy you are already for him. But that's not enough. He is eager for more. "So pretty" 

He would begin to tease you mercilessly, tracing soft patterns on your inner thighs and lower-belly. He likes to play with anticipation. He's not the kind of man who just roughly and mechanically slides his fingers inside you. Without teasing, there's no fun.

The more you squirm and moan, the more he's pleased, watching your pussy becoming more and more wet. 

"So eager already." Purring close to your ears, making you shiver even more, leaving a trail of goosebumps along your spine. "What should I do now? What do you want y/n, my tongue or my fingers?" 

You'll have both in the end, so don't worry.

It's clear that Doflamingo has mastered using his long tongue. And the same applies to his fingers always fidgeting when he uses his devil fruit. He's probably a master when it comes to fingering and oral sex. So he would slowly sink between your thighs, licking your soft skin before finally allowing you to feel his tongue against your sensitive folds, keeping your thighs open enough for him with his heavy hands. 

You just can't help but arch your back as he eats you out, turning you into a whining and moaning mess. He would drink your juice as if it was a precious wine. "That's it", humming against your slit, licking your clit. Slowly, he would slide a thick finger inside of you. His mind would probably be a bit dizzy, thinking about how good he would feel with his cock inside of your tightness.

"You're so responsive, little bird," before adding another finger and hitting that sweet spot, still licking your clit.

And he won't stop until you cum all over his tongue and fingers. "Good girl" 

With eyes darkened with desire, he would finally removing his pants, his heavy and extremely long cock springing free, leaking in pre-cum and twitching in anticipation. You can't help but look at his length, stressed. "Do you like looking at my big cock, little bird? Does it turn you on to know that I'm going to fuck you senseless?" So sure, he would grin again before lying on his back and letting you ride him. 

He perfectly knows how to control himself so he won't just push roughly while you line your pussy with his cockhead, trying to brace yourself-up. You definitely want to do it, but you feel nervous. "Need some help, little bird?" 

As you nod, he would use his devil fruit to guide you. With one broad hand wrapping around your waist and the other guiding the strings, he would slowly force your hips to move down, impaling you on his breathtaking thickness, his eyes sparkled with mischief. That's the moment you would see him lose his grin as he can't handle how tight and wet you feel all around him. "So tight…" 

"You can take more?" As long as you tell him to keep going, he would continue to guide your hips down his length, groaning softly, with his hand fondling the flesh of your waist. "That's it, take it, take it all."

As you start to moan, he would say "What's up little bird, you love how well I am stretching you?"

And as you slowly get used to his cock stretching your walls, his cock throbbing inside you, Doflamingo would nicely use his strings to guide you moving up and down, delighted by the sloshing noises. The way your core swallows his length would be mind-blowing for him. The sight of your wetness covering his cock every time you move up and down is something he would love to see more often. Be prepared to entertain your king again.

Crocodile 

CW : slight domination kink, praises, he's smoking because well it's Crocodile, oral sex (Crocodile receiving), slight hair pulling, using of his hook in a slight creative way but nothing extreme, belly bulge, unprotected sex

Another DILF and dominant man. 

Crocodile is a silent man. So the second you tell him you're nervous because it's been a while since the last time you had sex and that you're also nervous because he's both long and thick, he would just raise an eyebrow. Just like Doflamingo, he would love the feeling of you being intimidated, because Crocodile definitely has a thing (and a kink) for dominance. He likes when you acknowledge his rank and qualities.

"You're afraid because of my size?" 

He would lead your hand until you reached his cock. "If you're nervous, then you have to become familiar with it." So he would feel the girth and the veins, breathing deeply, delighted by the sight of your small hands trying to correctly wrap his thickness. "That's it, y/n. Touch it and get used to it. Soon, it will be all within you."

He would talk with his usual deep, raspy, and calm voice, the one that always sends shivers down your spine. And sure, he would act all dominant, smoking his cigar while you try so hard to satisfy him. Of course, he would look down at you. You are in his hands. So let go of all your intrusive thoughts and just focus on him. Only him.

"Suck it." 

He would watch closely as you try to wrap your tongue around his cock, tracing all the veins, and licking hungrily all the pre-cum leaking from his cockhead. He would grab a hand from your hair with his heavy and broad hand, leading your head back and forth, while watching you drool and struggle to breathe all over his cock. He would slowly lose his composure, sighing huskily, unable to handle how cute you look with your mouth full of his cock, trying to figure out how to take more of his length. He would find the sight of his member glistening with your saliva to be quite entertaining. 

"That's a good girl. Come get your rewards."

The moment he blows out his cigar and removes his rings, you know the real deal is about to start. 

He would likely use his large hook, carefully running the sharpened tip along the soft skin of your stomach. Before slowly leaving a trail of kisses along your neck. Avoid running your hands through his hair and stay still like the good girl you are. Otherwise, he might punish you with a hard pinch on your nipple and a rough slap on your ass cheeks.

Slowly but surely, then, he would reach your inner thighs and then your pussy. He would eat you out with his hand holding your thighs apart. He would you lick your pussy in a classy way, not like a vulgar starving. He would be fond of all your moaning and incoherent mumbling as you can't handle how good it feels. "You won't cum until I say so." While circling your clit with his thumb, teasing you, drinking your juice. Your shivering and tremblings are both entertaining and satisfying. Crocodile rarely goes down on someone, but when he does… oh, it's quite mesmerizing. 

"Stay still" if you start to squirm because of how good it feels.

And, once you're finally reduced to a whining mess, he would use his hook to grab one of your thighs, pushing them apart, spreading  your legs wide enough to fit in between. "Spread your legs for me." He would put a pillow under your back while manhandling you. And then, again, he would use his hook to slightly raise your upper body, until your pussy is lined with his cock.

"Can you take it?" 

He would enter you in one go as soon as you nodded. Not in a forceful way, but he doesn't see the point of taking a lot of breaks. Once his cock is buried deep inside you, he will soothe your trembling thighs by running his hand along your lower-stomach, feeling the bulge created by his cock. "Good girl. You're taking me so well." He would likely hold your legs tightly, trying to fight his own desire to fuck you roughly.

He's a patient man, so he'll wait until you're ready for him to start thrusting.

So deep and slow at the same time while he stretches you further, his cock throbbing and twitching. Not a grunter, but a pretty deep breath as you tighten around him. For this occasion, he will spare you from his usual roughness. But next time… you better be ready.

Katakuri

CW : The reader is smaller than him, but there's not a BIG size difference, food play, unprotected sex

"I know, love." Yes, he would speak before you even have time to express your fears. Blame it on his haki. Katakuri has a lot of sisters, so he would be well-aware of those kinds of thoughts. If you're nervous, he would take some time to ask why, making sure to fully understand the situation. 

"I'll take care of you, everything will be alright." Despite his lack of words, you have faith in him. He's aware of the future, so if he says it's going to be fine, you can trust him and it's already really soothing.

The Sweet Commander is a gentleman and he's aware of size. He would never just slam into you, especially not if you're already afraid. Before even thinking of reaching for your pussy, he would start with a lot of soft kisses all along your neck, and then on your breasts, sucking on your nipples, pinching them nicely. He just loves your breasts. They feel soft under his palms. He could spend hours worshipping your chest. As you slowly arch your back, moaning softly, and relaxing under his touch, he would continue to kiss your stomach, honoring every inch of your body.

You're so beautiful. Despite his quietness, his eyes would be brimming with pride. Being intimate with such a beautiful woman like you fills him with pride. "You're doing great." 

His voice would always be calm and deep, as usual. The control he has over himself is quite mesmerizing. 

And well, Katakuri probably has a food play kink, so he would love to devour your body covered in cream. So intoxicating. Your body tastes amazing. The taste of sugar is also amazing. Both? Total heaven.

He would then sink his head between your thighs, eating you out like your pussy was one of his dearest donuts. He'd like nothing more than to please you, so feel free to guide him. Katakuri being both smart and observant, he would quickly learn all of your sweet spots, turning you into a whiny moan, begging for more. 

If you don't tell him to stop, he could eat you out for hours. He can't help it; it feels so good and you taste so good. He would drink your juice, circling your clit with his thumb and wouldn't stop until you cum against his lips. 

"So good." 

He would take advantage of your wetness and dizzy mind from your orgasm to slowly push one thick and long finger inside you. It's so tight and warm that he would struggle to keep his calm composure. Especially because his haki showed him some really nice pictures of what's going to happen. 

As long as you need him to continue, Katakuri would honestly just pamper you with kisses and caresses. He knows how big he's, so you have to tell him when you're ready to take him. 

Katakuri would keep your thighs apart with an impatient hand, exposing your wet folds to his eyes. He would look hungrily. His cock twitching crazily in impatience, leaking in anticipation. "You're ready?" 

He already knows the answer, but Katakuri is a gentleman and cares a lot about consent. It doesn't matter if his observation haki shows him everything in advance.

Katakuri would intertwine his fingers with yours before slowly easing his cock into you in one go. A slow, but steady one. And as he fills you up to the brim, he would lose his composure and sigh in relief. Your pussy feels like heaven around his cock. It's a perfect blend of tightness, warmth, heat, and wetness. "Y/N, you feel amazing." 

He would adjust his pace to what you're capable of. If you need him to slow down, he will. And he would be more than happy to comply if you asked him to be rougher. He is here to satisfy you. And you will be satisfied. Reduced to a shivering, moaning mess. The way his fat cock slowly slides in and out and hits all your sweet spots is just too good. It's such a delight to see the big, stoic Katakuri looking his composure because of your body…

King

CW : The reader is smaller than him, but there's not a BIG size difference, kind of blindfold kink I guess (?), slight spanking, unprotected sex

Even with you, King doesn't like to show his face. He struggles with intimacy. Your confession would make him feel embarrassed. What is he supposed to do? He was about to fuck you without any further thought, but now he needs to take more consideration. 

He would slap your thigh with a sigh. "Turn around." 

While slowly lying on your stomach and complying, he would slowly remove his heavy mask, running a hand through his beautiful white hair. But you don't have the right to watch. The only thing you're allowed to do is imagine. You've already seen his face. So you close your eyes and imagine his beautiful, almost mesmerizing beauty in your mind: brown skin, white hair, and an expression that is both cold and determined. 

He would make you feel. Feel his mouth licking and kissing your spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps. Wet kisses. His hair would softly caress your skin as he devoured the back of your neck, his big hands roaming along your waist to keep you steady. "Stay still" he would always speak with his lips near your ear, enjoying all of your shivering.

And suddenly, he would yank your panties or just push them asides, eating you out from behind, spreading your thighs. "Get on your all fours," he would command, just to have a better view of your glistening folds, before sinking back between your legs. He would keep your cheeks spread and lap at your pussy, intoxicated by your moans, your taste, smell, and how you feel against his lips. You're arched for him, exposed, so beautiful. 

Even if he eats you out, he would love to spank your ass every time you squirm, forcing you to stay still. "Don't move and let me eat you out." He can sense that you're tense. And he doesn't understand why because usually, he can slide into you with ease. But he would take his time, fingering you, rubbing your clit, turning you into an almost crying, whimpering mess. 

He would obligingly ignore his cock, twitching and throbbing in anticipation, taking his time to work on your tightness, stroking your back. "Shh, it's alright, we'll take our time."

He would love to watch how beautiful you are, with your ass up and chest against the mattress, and your head buried in a pillow. What a stunning sight. The way your pussy is messing up on the bedsheets is quite stunning. 

He would use the fact you're unable to see him to his advantage, teasing you, running his fingers along your slit, then rubbing his cockhead, mixing his pre-cum with your wetness. "Please…" 

Please keep begging, it's a lullaby to his ears.

And finally, he would grab your hips firmly, filling you up to the hilt in one go, hitting your cervix. He would fight against his own desire to destroy you by digging into your soft flesh with his fingers. His strong grip would leave bruises on your skin tomorrow. 

With his huge cock nestled deep inside you, almost splitting you in half, he would let out a shaky breath. So good. So intoxicating. As you lie down, at his mercy, the sight of his cock slowly thrusting in and out of your tight hole, all stretched out around his thickness... it's too much to handle. As he plows into you from behind, he would moan. His member, all glistening and shining, covered in your wetness, the way your ass is swallowing him... 

He just can't.

His hands would be glued to your ass cheeks all the time. "You keep sucking me in, it won't let me go." 

He would try his best to stay nice. Stretching you out slowly. Even with slow strokes, his size is so overwhelming that it drives you crazy. Holding onto the bedsheets, closing your eyes, all you're allowed to do is imagine his jaw tightly clenched and his muscular body looming over you.

"Does it feel good, Y/N?" 

The instant you say yes and he feels you loose around his thickness, he will smash into you roughly, grunting loudly, slapping your ass, intoxicated by your you. And you alone.

Corazon 

CW : Body worship, praises, face sitting, protected sex, wholesome, soft sex

To end on a sweet note, the lovely Rosinante.

Let's assume it's your first time ending up in the same bed. Rosinante is always kind to you, and you know he won't do anything to hurt you. But still, if you explain to him you're nervous because he's big and also because you're always a bit stressed when it comes to sex… then, Rosinante would just be even more sweet. 

"Sweetie, we'll take it slow. You trust me?" 

He would be both careful and nervous due to his goofiness. What if he just falls on you? What if he crushes you with his weight? What if... oh, no, he's thinking too much again, his hands twitching on your body.

"It's okay Rosi, I trust you." 

As you ease him down, he would kiss every nook and cranny of your body: neck, collarbone, breasts, stomach, belly button,... leaving red lipstick streaks all over.

His large, heavy, and yet kind hands would hungrily roam your figure, your shoulders, learning each of your curves, scars, and every single part that makes you, you. He would make you love everything you hate about yourself, making you feel safe and loved. 

His hands would be soft and heavenly as he fondled your breasts, mesmerized by how warm and soft they felt against his big palms. Well, he's still goofy, so he might accidentally pinch you or scratch your nipple, apologizing again and again with wet puppy eyes.

And slowly, his hands and mouth would continue to explore your skin, kissing your lower stomach, and slowly reaching for your damping wet panties. "So wet for me." 

He's genuinely amazed. Rosinante would be in awe: does he attract you so much? He just wants to smile warmly at you.

He would accidentally rip your panties apart, and then apologizes again. Please, just laugh or reassure him. After all, his goofiness is adorable.

He would be incredibly sweet if you're a bit nervous about exposing yourself fully to him. "Sweetie, I swear you're mesmerizing. So perfect and beautiful, I want to love every inch of your skin". While slowly running his hands along your inner thighs. "It's alright, sweetie. Just open your legs for me. Can you do this for me?"

If you're still nervous, then Rosinante would lie down and allow you to sit on his face with your wet pussy pressed against his lips. Rosinante would love to eat you out while rubbing his hands along your back, ass, and thighs. Soft kisses on your clit, hungry tongue drinking your juice while it flows down on his chin. 

He would gently massage your bottom while slowly sucking on your clit and swirling his tongue. Rosinante would just love to have your thighs squeezing his cheeks. Move, all you want against his tongue, all he wants is to satisfy you and soothe all of your worries. His focus will only be on you, regardless of how hard his cock is.

He would slowly slide a thick finger inside you, curling it nicely to hit that sweet spot, making sure you're ready and aware of what's happening. The way you moan his name and use his mouth as you please is mesmerizing. 

With two fingers gently stretching out, Rosinante would continue to worship your body with his hands and tongue. He's probably trying to hide his coughs because he's suffocating with his face stuck between your thighs. But who cares. The way you taste is like heaven.

If you want to cum, he would allow you to cum against his lips. If you want to stop before reaching ecstasy, that's okay too. 

"I'm ready for you, Rosi." 

Totally flushed and nervous, Rosi would let you ride him. He's too stressed by his goofiness, so it's better if you take the lead. And at least, you can control the rhythm and depth. 

Rosinante would definitely use a condom. But, he would struggle to open the packaging and then roll the protection over his length due to his nervousness, excitement, and goofiness. His big, shaking hands would likely cause him to split one or two condoms. Please, help this poor boy.

The shows continue with the lube. It's likely that he would let the bottle to fall, spilling all of the liquid onto both your belly and his hands. "I'm so sorry, sweetie!" And he would stupidly try to steal some lube from your stomach to smear it over his length. You can't help but laugh warmly, caressing his hair. "It's okay Rosi, relax."

His heart melts as you straddle him, his length twitching and leaking wildly. He's big, both in length and girth, and he's aware of it. He would allow you to take all of your time to prepare yourself. The way he looks at you tells how much he cares about you and how honored he feels to have you by his side.

"Whenever you want, Y/N" with his deep, soothing and soft voice.

As he feels your tight entrance against his cockhead, he would bite his lips, grabbing the bedsheets tightly. Because he would never dare hold you roughly and leave bruises on your body. When he sees that you're still a bit nervous, he would sit up while you're still straddling him. He would slowly raise your hips before easing his cock inside you. Pushing gently, each inch, slowly yet steadily. "Shh, it's okay, I've got you, you're taking me so well. You're so perfect for me." 

He would hold you tightly as you sit down on his lap, your breasts pressed against his chest. "It's okay sweetie, you're doing great, it's okay, almost there, just a little more, you feel so good around me." With his hands squeezing your hips to keep you still. 

His entire body would be shaking. The sensations are overwhelming for both of you. You're so tight, so wet, and his huge cock is stretching you so nicely, throbbing inside you. 

He would soothe your back gently as he finally penetrates you fully, his large size stretching you out even further. "There it's over. Look at you, taking all of my cock so well. You're such a brave girl. " 

He would slowly guide your hips up and down, unable to handle how good it feels. " I've got you, let me take care of you." 

A lot of kisses, soft, heavenly touches, his breath deep against your breath as he continues to slide gently yet firmly inside you. He would praise you all the time, worshiping your body. A bit goofy from time to time, loweering you to roughly down his cock, scratching you or biting your lips instead of kissing you softly. 

But a really, really sweet moment, and a lot of cuddles during the aftercare.

[uglypastels]

Following the Herd // dark!cult!Eddie x reader

summary: Eddie Munson has never been anything but sweet and caring to you. He had always made sure you were alright and safe and always helped you with anything you asked for. So now, that he needed you, how could you possibly refuse?

PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING TO READ THIS FIC AND IF YOU DO NOT LIKE THE SOUND OF THEM, DO NOT READ IT. if you do and still have any complaints about the content that has been tagged, that's on you. <3

word count: 14k

warnings the occult and cult stuff. blood. ritual sacrifices. inflicting non-lasting injury on self/others. subliminal indoctrination. Manipulation and taking advantage of the naive and innocent reader. Eddie is protective, possessive and controlling. has issues. mention of character death [the Creels]. mention of drinking, smoking and drugs.

Explicit Content! 18+ only. Minors DNI! fem reader. PIV sex. unprotected sex (big no-no). heavy s/d dynamic. thigh riding. extended orgasm denial. overstimulation. innocence and corruption kink + virginity. knife kink (kinda). spitting. oral [f receiving]. debatable dacryphilia. blindfold. Eddie's handcuffs. praise. "whore" x1.

If I missed out on any warnings, I severely apologise. Please let me know and I will add them

"Just as every cop is a criminal

And all the sinners saints

As heads is tails

Just call me Lucifer

'Cause I'm in need of some restraint"

-the Rolling Stones, Sympathy for the Devil

The thing one must understand about Eddie Munson is that he never meant for anything bad to happen. On the contrary, he had nothing but good intentions for you, for anyone. He was a kind, deeply caring person who wanted nothing but the best for others. It was not his fault that people didn't understand him. 

So what? He didn't dress like all the other conservative assholes in town. He was different and dared to speak up for himself; since when is that a crime? He had his beliefs to fight for, just like anyone else; why would that make him the bad guy? People have started wars over way less, and yet, Eddie had been the one cast out from society, branded as a monster. He, who had never done anything wrong in his life. 

You knew like no other how wrong these misconceptions about him were, having experienced his kindness first-hand. It was only a year ago, but it could have been a lifetime. It was almost a coincidence how he found you at that party over spring break. There were so many people, and the music was so loud, that it was easy to get disorientated. The air was thick with smoke and the smell of liquor, making you sick. He had helped you then. It was Eddie who took your hand and led you outside into the fresh and cold night air. 

'You alright?' He looked deep into your eyes with a soft smile, to which you could only smile sheepishly. Maybe that is how he had thought of his cute nickname for you? 'What's a cute little lamb like you doing out here, all alone, anyway?' 

'I'm here with my friends. Just… seemed to have misplaced them somewhere.' You had laughed, not wanting to show how scary that had actually been. The music from inside the house was still blasting, beating against your chest. Eddie nodded in understanding. 

'You've got to be careful, sweetheart, don't want to lose yourself to this chaos.' He brushed some hair out of your face; your skin was burning up from how warm it had been in the house. You only noticed it when compared to the cold touch of his hand. His eyes were still on you, focused, the deep dark of his irises pulling you in. 'Haven't been drinking, have we?' He smiled innocently, clearly teasing, intensifying the burning heat in your cheeks. 

'No.' You could say it earnestly, but the reasons behind your honesty felt a bit embarrassing. You almost didn't want to admit that you had never had a drink before and were still apprehensive about alcohol. He would surely think it's silly, to be 18 and never even have had a beer or a shot. There were so many things you still hadn't done, in fact, that he would probably see as normal.

But his smile grew bigger, and he almost sounded proud when he continued with the conversation: 'Good. Good. You don't want that stuff in you.' 

'I don't?' You blinked as he shook his head. Anyone else would have told you to suck it up, but not him.

'No, all it will do is ruin that pretty mind of yours. And we don't want that, do we?' His voice made your heart flutter in excitement, which proved everyone else's suspicions wrong. Because no evil could make you feel that good, could it? 

And it never really stopped. Neither the feeling you felt when you were around him nor how he treated you. Eddie had a very protective and caring nature. He needed to be sure you were safe and alright. At school, he would ensure you ate your lunch, had a good night's sleep the night before, and weren't too cold or too warm. He invited you to hang out a lot– an offer you could hardly refuse. He walked you home and would help you with your homework or take you back to his trailer, where he would play you songs on his guitar. The music he listened to sure was different from what you were used to. Heavy, gritty and dark, but all of that talk that it was Satan's music was ridiculous. Anyone who would listen to a few bars of it could know that. And the artistry of these musicians was also undeniable. 

Eddie had never expected you to enjoy his kind of music as much as you did, but it brought the biggest smile to his face, which, in turn, made you that much happier. You couldn't get enough of his happiness and could do anything for it. It would be the fair thing to do, considering everything Eddie's done for you... 

When your parents found out you had started hanging out with a boy like Eddie Munson, they were, quite honestly, scared. They did not want his likes to influence you, making you stray down to a dark and dangerous lifestyle. 

But it couldn't be further away from the truth. 

Eddie ensured you stayed away from things such as alcohol or drugs, even cigarettes. He didn't even want you talking about it, didn't want you anywhere near the stuff. And even though he used all of it, he made sure to never do it around you. He would hide away the weed and the liquor bottles in his trailer, and he'd control his need to smoke until you had left. 

'It's too late for me, I'm beyond saving, but that doesn't mean you have to go down that path too.' He would say, stroking your hair, if you ever asked why he was so adamant about keeping you away from these vices. 'Can't have my little lamb be ruined like that.' And he would kiss your forehead, ring-clad hand upon your cheek. His rips were usually chapped, and fingers roughly calloused, but you didn't mind. His touch still felt divine. 

Eddie protected you from more than just these substances. He knew you were not the most experienced in living life, which was something he appreciated and praised, but the shock on his face when you had told him you had never even had your first kiss… the idea of that made his head spin. It excited him more than he had ever thought imaginable, but it also scared him. Since he had found that out about you, you had noticed how much more protective he had gotten over you around certain people. It was cute, how possessive he got when other guys looked at you. 

'Believe me, baby, they're no good for you.' He would hold you close, turning your back to whoever had been trying to catch your eye. 'Guys like that… they only have one thing on their mind.' 

'What's that?' you asked, but he never gave you a direct answer. It was nothing his little lamb should be worried about. You were his pure, innocent girl, and he couldn't have the evils of others corrupt you. He wanted what's best for you. 

He really did make you feel safe and comfortable, in a way no one had ever done before. You felt like you could tell him anything, no matter how personal or embarrassing. Things you wouldn't dare tell any other guy. 

'Uhm, Eddie,' you mumbled one time. You were in your bedroom, sitting on the ground with your backs against your bed. Eddie had you sitting between his legs. His hands around your middle, rubbing small circles on the bare piece of skin between where your shirt and trousers met. The sensation it left on you spread across your whole body in sparks, particularly between your legs, making it very hard to focus on the book you had been trying to read.

'Something wrong?' He asked, head propped up on your shoulder as he spoke, so his words came out with his warm breath against your neck, not helping your situation. 

'I uh–' you were flustered; the only thing you could think about was how his fingers were creeping over your stomach, inching your waistband. 'Nevermind.' 

'No, no, sweetheart. Now you got to tell me.' 

'It's a bit warm in here, don't you think?' You breathed out slowly. 

'Not really.' He shrugged. 'But you can open a window if you want.' 

You took the opportunity to get away from his touch. Not that you minded it or that it wasn't pleasant. On the contrary, you had to escape it because of how good it felt. You had never felt like this before. Hot and bothered, all over. It wasn't something you were used to or even knew how to handle. 

'Are you sure, you're alright?' Eddie asked once you came back to sit in his lap. You hummed out a response, but he could tell it wasn't all true. 'C'mon, it's me. You can tell me, can't you?' Of course, you could. You could tell Eddie anything, that much you knew. 

'I just– feel a bit hot. That's all.' It still all felt a bit silly. A bit difficult to put into words.

'Hot?' He asked for a clarification, to which you only nodded your head. You looked down at your lap, embarrassed even though you knew there was nothing to be ashamed about. Eddie wrapped his arms around you, but his hands were low, pressing at the hem of your trousers, and it wasn't making matters any better. 

'What are you doing?' You gasped when you felt him slip past the material of your shorts, fingers sliding over your panties slowly. You arched your back in anticipation; it was an automatic, subconscious reaction. Still, it felt wrong, though. He had always told you how that part of you was sacred, off limits for others. 

Others. Yes. 

Not him. 

'I just need to check something.' His voice was a mere hush as his fingertips brushed over your core, just the thin layer of cotton keeping up the barrier between you. But he wouldn't actually touch you there. Not yet. He couldn't ruin you like that. It would be inconsiderate and selfish, and that's not who Eddie was. He just wanted what's best for you.

'You are burning up, baby,' he clicked his tongue when his fingers added some pressure to the touch. Your back stiffened, and you held your breath, unsure what to do. 'I wish I could help, but I can't right now.' Of course, you would never actually protest anything he did, knowing he had his valid reasons, but you wished he hadn't pulled away. 

'Why not?' your voice was shaky. 

'It's not the right time,' he pressed you back against his chest, taking in your sweet scent. Your shampoo, your perfume, even the ink of the pen you had been writing with for the past few hours, and your arousal– all mixed into something that could only be described as you. 

'Right time?' you weren't sure what he meant by that, but Eddie talked a lot about funny things that you didn't understand. Mostly, it was about the game he played at school with his friends, Dungeons and Dragons. He had tried to explain it to you several times, and most of it was easy enough to grasp, but he could talk on about it for ages, and it was almost as if he was pulling you into a trance of attention. Words would lose their meaning as you were too focused on Eddie himself. The sound of his voice and his movements– he always used his hands to emphasise what he said. And maybe it was for the better you didn't understand everything that was happening in the club. 

Not that it mattered, anyway. It was nothing his little lamb should be worried about.

'Yeah, got to wait a bit, sweetheart. Patience is a virtue, isn't that what they always say? And believe me, if you wait a bit longer, it will be so worth it.' 

'How long?' you already didn't want to wait. His featherlight touch had been enough to ignite a fire in you. But, unfortunately, it wasn't enough to subside whatever feeling was gnawing at you there. If anything, the memory of his touch only made it worse. You needed more. 

'Not too long. I'll let you know when it's time, ok?' He started rubbing his hand over your arm. 'But you got to promise me one thing.' 

'Of course.' Anything for Eddie. He knew what was best. 

'Do not touch yourself there, ok? It might be difficult because you might not feel much better without it, but it will feel so wonderful in the end. I promise.' He made plenty of these kinds of promises and had held up to them every single time. That was another reason you trusted him; everyone else was simply wrong in their perceptions. An evil person would not keep to their promises as Eddie did. 

Eddie cared

Deeply

About you. 

So you listened to what he asked of you, nearly blindly. 

The feeling inside of you grew much to your frustration, but you kept your promise to Eddie. The days went on rather slowly, not helping your problem, and neither did Eddie. His touches seemed to linger more than they used to. He was always at your side, keeping you close to him; that didn't change that much. But he would let his hands wander over your body. 

Perhaps he was nervous about something, and the way he coped was to draw invisible shapes all over your body when he had his arms wrapped around you. He'd mumble to himself, little nonsense things you couldn't make out. He also got a bit forgetful; at lunchtime, he would forget to save you a seat, leading you to have to sit in his lap. Not that you minded. But what was a bit frustrating was how antsy he had gotten, letting his leg bouncing up and down. (What was he so nervous about?) Other times you wouldn't have minded, but how his jeans grazed over your sensitive and already frustrated core made you want to cry out. 

'Eddie, could you maybe stop that? Please?' You looked up at him, trying to get rid of the lump in your throat. 

'Sorry, baby,' He stopped, but the friction was just replaced by the hand he had put on your thigh. So many people were around you, all chatting and enjoying their free time out of class, yet there was only him for you. His big brown eyes sucked you into a place where it was just the two of you. So you weren't even embarrassed when he asked you: 'have are you feeling? Been a good little lamb for me?' 

'Yes.' As if on cue, you couldn't help but rub your legs together, needing some kind of stimulus to keep you away from that burning feeling between your legs. It had been going on for days, only getting stronger, and you could do nothing about it. 

Your action didn't escape Eddie's vision, and he was quick to pull your legs apart. However, his hand remained sturdily between them. 

'Haven't been touching yourself?' He wasn't whispering or trying not to be heard, but no one was paying attention really anyway. But even if they had, you didn't care. 

'No. Of course not.' He would ask you the same question each day, and each day you could happily respond. Even if every time it got harder and harder to do. 'But… Eddie–' 

'Hmm?' he hummed, pushing some hair out of your face with the hand that had not settled over the warm gap between your thighs.

'I feel like it's just getting worse,' your voice was almost lost in the ocean of others, but he heard you, and he smiled softly as you continued. 'I don't know how much longer–' but that is where he cut you off. 

'I know, baby. I know. But you're not ready yet, and we don't want all of this to go to waste, do we?' He looked you in the eyes until you shook your head in agreement; what you agreed to, however, was a bit vague. 'But it's not much longer anymore, and then just think of how good it will feel. Your reward will be grand.' 

'Reward?' He had never even said anything about a reward. 

'Oh, of course. My little lamb deserves a prize for behaving this well.' He squeezed you into a tight hug, pulling you in. You could feel his thumb press against your sensitive bud again for just a second, but you pushed aside the urge for more. He propped you up, helping you sit up better in his lap, but this again only made you feel his hand on you more prominently. His lips were nearly against your jaw when he spoke up again. 'How about you come over to my place later, and I'll try to help you with your problem, hmm? A… little taste of what's to come?' 

'Are you sure?' You didn't want him to do anything that could end up hurting either of you. If he said, you weren't ready… 

'Yeah, I can't have you walking around like this, all flustered. It's making all the other guys stare.' 

'What?' This made you stiffen up a bit. Why were they all staring at you? Could they tell, see even, how enkindled you were? You hadn't thought so. 

'Shh, it's alright. I'll take care of them. Don't you worry.' He would make sure you were safe, that much you knew. 'Meet me at the car later. I'll drive us home.' The bell for the next class would ring soon, and you wouldn't see Eddie until after school ended. Those were always the hardest times of the day, besides maybe when you were lying in bed alone, wishing he was with you to help you fall asleep and make that ache between your legs finally disappear. 

The classes were almost impossible for you to get through, as all you could think of was Eddie. Minutes were passing by so slowly, that you wanted to scream. Was no one else upset about how time just did not seem to move forward? That could not be possible. But, then again, you were the only one irking to get out of there to meet Eddie in the parking lot. 

You practically jump into his arms. The wind blew in your face, bringing his dark locks along and tickling your neck. He smelled like incense and his musky cologne. Someone like him should have something more bitter about him, you had thought at be beginning of your friendship, but Eddie was sweet. Not just in his actions, but in everything else around him. Because even with that smokey scent, mixed with his cologne, there was still a sweetness around him that you could not identify. It pulled you in, the familiarity of it, and yet you could never quite place it in your mind as to what it was. 

Eddie's hand never left your body as he drove you to the trailer park. You loved when he drove his car, but it was also frustrating that his hand was all he could give you. His eyes were, of course, entirely concentrated on the road ahead, and you missed them. 

Fortunately, the drive wasn't too long, and before you knew it, he led you out to his trailer, into the back of it, where his room was. It was messy, like most days, and there were things strewn about all over the place, which Eddie tried to sort out as he went along. He picked something up that looked like a long glass vase from next to his bed and put it in his closet. 

'What was that?' you asked curiously as he sat down on the bed. You were still standing by the door. 

'That? Oh, nothing, baby. Just c'mere.' He held out his hand for you to take once you had made your way over to him. You were ready to sit down, but Eddie pressed the palm of his other hand over your stomach, keeping you up. 'Hmm, no. Wait up.' He took both your hands in his, kissing your knuckles. 'Before we start, I need you to listen, really carefully, to me. I got to know you understand.' 

Eddie rarely spoke in such a serious manner, so it made you a bit nervous. He held your hands tightly, and you stood between his spread legs. He looked up at you, almost with pleading eyes, as if he didn't know that you were already listening to him intently, taking in each word he gave you desperately, never wanting him to stop giving you his attention or time.  

'I'm listening, Eddie, always,' you smiled, and he hugged out a little laugh. 

'This is just really important to me,' he chuckled lightly again, 'I want to make you feel good, sweetheart, but I can't make that feeling that is bothering you go away just yet. It shouldn't go away just yet, because you're not ready, we're not ready… but we can do something to help with it; for now, does that sound alright?' 

'Yes.' Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as he kissed your knuckles again. 

'Good, come sit here,' he tapped onto his right thigh, and you sat down, but apparently not in the way he had meant for you to do, as he laughed. 'No, baby. Like this. Here.' He shuffled a bit back onto the bed and made you sit with your legs on either side of his, locking him in between you. He put his hand on your hip, pushing you into him. The material of your jeans pressed into you, releasing some of the tension that had been building up in you over the past few days. Then, with his guidance, you started moving your hips over his leg. 

'Feels good, doesn't it?' Eddie asked, and you nodded your head quickly. 'Yeah, and it will only feel better the longer you keep doing it. Go a bit faster– that's it.' 

'It– oh my- aah,' you gasped out at this foreign sensation that rushed through your body. 'Thank you,' the words came out with a heavy breath of air as you found your rhythm.

'You're very welcome, sweetheart. You've been doing so well for me, haven't you? Deserve a little treat.' Your faces were nearly at the same level with you on his lap, and his mouth ghosted over yours. You could feel it there, not even an inch apart, but he couldn't– no matter how much he wanted to kiss your perfect lips, they would remain untouched for now. But it wouldn't be long anymore. Soon, he would make all this wait worthwhile. 

'Keep going as long as you want, baby,' the sight of you pleasuring yourself on his thigh made him short circuit, but he had to keep his mind clear. 

'It feels–' you didn't know how to describe the feeling that started to overcome you. You were tensing up again. Suddenly the release you felt from this friction didn't feel as satisfying anymore. It was urging you on to keep going, to tense that tight feeling in you until it snapped, but it was getting worse. Finally, you had to squeeze your eyes shut. 'Eddie!' 

'Woah, Woah, Woah.' He halted your hips tightly. 'Stop.' 

'What-' you were confused, not sure what had happened. The tight feeling in your gut loosened, but the satisfaction you had felt also reclined. 

'You were close, weren't you?' He asked, and you weren't entirely sure what he meant by "close", but somehow, on a deeper level, you knew that that is what you had felt, and so nodded a bit meekly. Eddie nodded along in understanding. 'See, you're not ready for that yet, baby. So if you feel it again, you got to tell me and stop, got it? If you feel that tightness coming, do not keep going. It can be too much for you right now, I don't want you to ger hurt.'

'I get it,' a lump formed in your throat again. 

'Alright. Do you want to do it again?' He squeezed your hips, and you bit your lip. You did want to keep going, as it did feel amazing when you could release some of that tension your body had built up. Eddie just wanted to help you; it wasn't his fault that he couldn't get rid of this hollow feeling inside you. He did everything he could to make you feel as good as possible. He let you writhe over his leg for an eternity, replaying the cycle of your pleasure, letting you inch toward that unattainable high. Every time you felt the knot in your stomach, you would gasp out his name, and he would hold you still. It was torture you brought upon yourself to keep going over and over again, but it felt so good. It didn't matter that you could never actually get it to completion. That initial feeling of bliss compensated for the pain of unfulfillment. 

'You're so good for me. My sweet little lamb, always listens so well.' Even if there was nothing to inherently pleasure Eddie, he still felt fantastic. Seeing you like this made him feel like never before, and to see you obey his requests as you did… it was pure euphoria. 

Tears were stinging your eyes, but he was quick to brush them away, right at the corners of your eyes. You could not possibly go on much longer. Your grip on his shoulder weakened, and your hips started jutting forward haphazardly, exhausted.

'Eddie,' you gasped out a final time; you didn't even have energy left in you to reach that edge anymore. Your body shut down as you fell forward into Eddie. He fell back, holding on to you as his back hit the mattress. 

'Did so good, baby. So good.' He held you tightly as you caught your breath. You were shaking, so he grabbed the covers and pulled them over you. 

'I– thank you.' You nuzzled deeper into his hold. No words were exchanged for a while. His arms stayed wrapped around you, caressing your back gently as the seconds on the clock ticked by. 

'How are you feeling?' He eventually asked, whispering, in case you had fallen asleep on top of him. But you answered, voice weak and tired: 

'I'm alright.' Everything was still spinning a bit; you couldn't quite tell up from down. The only thing grounding you was Eddie. He started to draw more random shapes over your back, mumbling nothings to himself, and you were ready to doze off. Peace was coming over you. Then his voice turned up a bit louder as he spoke directly to you.

'I'm so proud of you.' It was still a whisper, but his voice vibrated through his throat. 

'Thank you, Eddie.' 

'Mmm, did so good, you know what?' He kissed your forehead. 'How about we go to the mall tomorrow. Get you something nice?' 

Your head shot up in the excitement, and you looked into his eyes. 'Is– that my reward?' 

'No, I just want to spoil you,' he chuckled, petting your hair flat, 'Your reward will be so much better. Just you wait.' He rolled over to his side, taking you along so you'd fall onto the mattress beside him. 'Want me to take you home?' He asked, and you had nodded yes, and maybe had even said it, but your eyelids were so heavy, and you were so tired, that soon sleep came over you, and you had never felt quite as peaceful as you had in his arms. 

Eddie not once thought of letting you go. He did what he had to do to keep you close and safe. 

His pure and innocent little lamb. 

All his. 

✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮

The next day, he did indeed take you shopping. It was a lovely day full of sunshine, and he held your hand as you walked past stores. Even if you hadn't realised it, he already had something in mind he wanted to get you, and it just so happened to be at one store you frequented. 

He watched you go through the racks of clothing and smiled anytime he caught your eye. He had to pull you back. Otherwise, you would have missed the one thing he had wanted you to see. 

'How about this one?' He picked a dress up from the hanger. It was a long and flowy white summer dress. You furrowed your brows, not having expected that to be his choice of outfit for you. It was neither his nor your style, yet he handed it to you with plenty of enthusiasm. 

'Are you sure?' You asked, watching him nod his head adamantly. 

'You'll look gorgeous, I can already tell.' he pressed the dress against you, looking at how it would look on you. 'Wanna go and try it on?' 

'Yeah, of course,' you smiled, and the next thing you knew, Eddie was opening up the door to a dressing room for you. He hung the dress on a hook next to the mirror and closed the door behind him. He said he would be right there if you needed anything, and you knew it was true. He would be sitting right there in one of the fuzzy chairs, waiting for you to come out and spin around for him. 

But unfortunately, the zipper in the back of the dress was not as easy to pull up as you thought, so you called out his name. Not a second later, Eddie popped his head inside the little room, eyes closed for your decency. 

'It's alright, Eds,' you giggled, 'you can look. I just can't get the zipper up.' 

'Ah, well, let me,' he came up to you, and his hands were on the small of your back, holding the two sides of the dress together so he could pull the zipper up. It was cold against your skin, and Eddie moved extremely slowly, not wanting to accidentally snag the fabric or get your hair caught in it. He pulled it all the way up and smoothed out the dress at your sides, not that you thought it had been that wrinkled. You had been facing the mirror, so he put his head on your shoulder to look along with you. 

'Absolutely beautiful.' He whispered, imitating the confined intimacy of the dressing room. Your cheeks heated up at the compliment, but also because you did actually feel beautiful wearing the dress. It fitted perfectly, wrapping around your body at every angle. It was light, comfortable, soft… just the white colour felt slightly off for you. Eddie noticed this apprehension in your face. 'What's wrong, sweetheart?'

'I'm just not so sure about white. It doesn't really feel like me, does it?' 

'Thought you might want to try something new. And just look how good it looks on you.' Then, with a finger under your chin, he made you look in the mirror again, 'An angel.' 

'Oh, Eddie,' you swung around to hug him. 'Thank you.' you mumbled the words against his chest. 

'Anything for you, baby.' His hand moved up and down over your back. 

After the dress shopping, the two of you walked around, with no real goal or destination in mind. The presence of each other was more than enough. But as the day went on, you couldn't help but feel down. Eddie had done so much for you over time, especially in the recent days; you wanted to repay him somehow. Show him that you cared for him just as much as he cared about you. Did he even know that you would do anything for him? You hoped so. 

You kept on thanking him as the day went on, which only made him laugh. The message had been quite clear after the first three times, and now it was becoming almost excessive. But he could never complain either, loving how much you appreciated him, but enough was enough. Surely. 

'I just wish I could do something in return.' 

'You really don't need to.' He cupped your face in the palm of his hand. 

'But I want to.' You persisted. 'There must be something I could do for you.' 

'Not that I can think of, but if anything comes up, I will let you know.' And that was that. You didn't want to press on the matter; why nag on a little thing like that, ruin what would be a lovely day? So, you went and had coffee at a café on Main Street, where Eddie again demanded to pay the bill, and then he drove you back home. Only when the car stopped in front of your driveway did you realise that this had been the longest time you had ever spent with Eddie: Almost an entire day. And it had also been one of the best days ever. Not because of how he had spoiled you– you couldn't care less about that stuff– but because you had not once stopped smiling. With him, you felt like you were on cloud nine, seventh heaven, paradise, and you never wanted it to stop. 

'What are you doing tomorrow?' you asked hopefully. It would be a Sunday then, and like most Sundays, you would have nothing to do. Eddie tapped the steering wheel.

'I got some things to take care of. Nothing too exciting.' Perhaps he saw your deflated expression. 'We'll hang out another time, yeah? I'll see you at school.' If you had been two different people, you would have leaned in and kissed goodbye, but instead, Eddie cupped your face again and tapped your cheek lightly with his hand. You did lean into his touch, not wanting it to leave you, but it always did at some point. 

'I'll miss you.' You pouted, which he mimicked. 

'And I'll miss you too, but this thing– it's really important. I can't miss it, and it will most likely take me the whole day–' 

'Why don't I help you?' You interrupted as the idea jumped to your mind. 'Then we can still spend time together and maybe you might even finish sooner.' 

'Oh, you don't want to–' 

'But I do,' you persisted. This was your chance. You could finally prove to Eddie how much he meant to you. 

'Are you sure?' Eddie raised his brow inquisitively. You nodded your head once but very clearly, indicating your standpoint. He couldn't get rid of you even if he tried. He knew it too, as seen through the deep sigh he took, but he was smiling. Your persistence was adorable. 

'Ok, fine. Do you know where the Creel House is?' 

'The creepy old boarded-up building?' Yeah, you knew the Creel House. Everyone in town did. Everyone had heard the story of what had happened there all those years ago, and it still made you feel uncomfortable to think about it. 

'I'll see you there at 5, ok? Wear the pretty dress we got today, too. I can't get enough of you in it.' And this time, he did lean in to kiss your cheek. Or, almost your cheek. It had been where he had intended for his lips to touch you, but it had only missed your own lips by less than an inch. The kiss was also just like all the other formalities. It probably lasted less than a second but left you wanting more. That warm feeling in your body resurfaced, much to your dismay. After yesterday, you had hoped it would stay hidden a bit longer, but apparently, one tiny featherlight kiss on the apple of your cheek was enough for it to come back up. 

'Who knows,' Eddie took your hand, 'maybe tomorrow will be the day, too.' 

'You mean–' you looked up at him with wide eyes. 

'We'll see. Now go, sweetheart.' He left you thinking about it for the entire night. Were you finally ready? Would this unbearable ache in your pit finally disappear? You hoped so. You were jittery with excitement about the next day. You could barely sleep, even though you knew Eddie wouldn't appreciate that (he always needed you to be well rested). And then the morning came, and you couldn't get a bite of your breakfast down your throat as you jumped in your seat from anticipation. You knew it was silly, but after all this time, you finally got a chance to show Eddie everything. And you had waited for weeks to touch yourself, and it was as if your body could tell that the waiting time was almost over. 

It was almost over; you told yourself as you made your way to the house. You were too early; you knew that, but better too early than too late. Maybe Eddie would already be there, and then… that is when you realised you actually had no idea what you were coming into the house for. What did he want you to do there? 

A harsh wind blew, pulling at the hem of your dress, which you had to hold not to let the street see your backside. The steps to the porch creaked under your footsteps, and the door you knew was once covered in wooden boards was now broken open. The beautiful stained-glass window was broken into shards, with a large hole in the middle– exactly where the rose used to bloom daily. 

'Hello?' You called out as you stepped inside. The temperature immediately seemed to drop, and the air had a moist hint, thick with dust flying around you. Footsteps were coming from upstairs. 

'Baby?' It was Eddie, and the sound of his voice immediately made all your worries go away.

'Yes! It's me!' You wanted to tread the stairs, a large and eccentric staircase, but Eddie showed up at the top of it. His hair was fastened up with his black bandana. You had imagined he would appreciate your early arrival, but a grimace covered his face instead. 

'You're early. I told you 5.' The old clock in the back of the hallway still clicked away and pointed to ten minutes to five, so you weren't that early. 

'I'm sorry. I walked faster than I expected.' 

'It's alright, just– just wait here. I'm almost ready.' Oh, was he setting something up for you? A surprise? Your reward? It brought back all these fluttery feelings in your stomach. 

You could hear Eddie shuffling around the upper floor, right above you. He was walking up and down the room, carrying things around. You wanted to go up and help him, but since he had told you to wait– you waited. Five minutes went by, ten, fifteen, and you were getting restless at the bottom of these tall stairs. With each creak in the floorboards, you hoped Eddie would appear again. 

That only happened a bit later, when you glanced up and saw him walk out of a dark room. He grinned down at you, and your body screamed to run up those stairs, but again, you waited for him to let you. 

'C'mere, I want to show you something.' And that is how you eagerly made your way upstairs finally. Eddie waited at the top step and watched how your dress flowed with your movements. Truly angelic, if such things existed. Holding you by the hand, he led you into the room he had just come out of. 

All the large windows were plastered shut, covered with wooden planks or plastic tarps, and while that should have made the room pitch black, you could still see everything inside clearly. That is because Eddie had set up candles all over the surfaces near the large bed that stood in the middle of the room. The orange flames gave the room a warm glow, and it must have been the most romantic thing you had ever seen. 

'Is this for me?' you glanced over at him, still in awe and shock. He laughed at this lightheartedly, squeezing your hand. It must have taken him hours to prepare all of this, but it was so worth it, you could tell him. The atmosphere brought to the room was fantastical, otherworldly. 

Eddie led you to the centre of the room, where the candles on the ground were positioned in a circular shape, with just enough space for you to stand. 

'You look beautiful, y/n,' Eddie spoke in a hushed whisper. 'Divine. My little lamb.' He pushed the hair out of your face again. Why did it always get in the way? Such a gorgeous face should not be covered up with anything, which is why he was glad you hadn't put on make-up today. You were standing in front of him in your purest form. The white dress accentuated it. 'You know why you're here, don't you?' 

'Because you asked me to?' you spoke, voice shaking for some reason. The fire of the candles flickered on. In the dim light, you could make out some kind of graffiti painted on the walls, strange symbols you did not recognise. 

'Yes, but I meant, why I asked you to come here.' The entire house had been left in its original state, never emptied out after the original owners had… left it. This meant that the old bedroom still had all its furnishings around. The bed was behind you, but you could also see a dresser and an armchair in the corner. Eddie walked up to the dresser and picked something up. Long, thin, the silver reflecting the golden flame light– 

'Eddie?' You wanted to step back at the sight of the sharp knife but remembered the candles positioned all around you. 'What- what are you doing?' 

'It's ok, baby. I'm not going to hurt you,' Eddie smiled kindly. He toyed with the sharp tip of the blade, twirling it against his hand. 'I would never hurt you. You know that, right?' You did know this, so you didn't bother to back away when he came closer. Eyes remained locked, ignoring the fire, the symbols, and the blade. There was just you and him. 'You know that, right?' Eddie repeated his question, to which you nodded. But he needed you to say it and hear your voice.

'Yes.' He only wanted what's best for you, to protect you. But, of course, he would never do you any harm. 

'Good. Really, sweetheart, you don't know how happy I am I found you– you're so– you're just so perfect.' His perfect little lamb. All his. You couldn't tell if the heat burning inside you came from the candles or his words. 'You have always listened so well, always been so good. And you'll keep being good, won't you?' 

'Mhm.' The power of longer words escaped you. Eddie cupped your cheek in his hand, patting it gently.

'Because I really need you to listen and do as I say, baby. This is really important to me.' 

'But-' you pushed the words out, 'what are you doing?' You still couldn't quite make sense of the things around you. But Eddie smiled at your question, as if he had been expecting it, had wanted you to ask. Your hair was poking from behind your ears again, sticking at your cheek, which he brushed off. He could cut it right off with the knife in his hand– he always thought you would look prettier in shorter hair, it would frame your face so nicely–  but it would probably not be appreciated. Maybe one day, if he asked nicely if you would still have him after today.

Of course, you would. 

'We're going to heal the world, sweetheart.' He smiled his big gorgeous smile, but you were too caught up in his words. 'Restore the order of life, make everything wrong right again– you want to help me with that, don't you?' 

'Well, yes, but–' the fire was heating up the room quickly, and you could feel it on your skin. The knife in Eddie's hand kept reflecting the light, making you look at it, but each time you would, Eddie would press his fingers into your cheek so you would find his eyes again. 

'You don't have to be scared; I'm not going to hurt you. I need you to trust me, y/n.' The way your name flowed out of his lips, so smooth and sweet, you felt terrible just for having a thought of doubt ever sour mind. But even if you told yourself not to be scared, he did see that fear in your eyes. It was frustrating to see, because how many times could he comfort you? What would it take for you to understand him? Finally, he moved, turned slightly to the side, and the cold blade hit your arm. It did not cut or hurt, but it made you flinch. 

'Eddie–' your voice was so weak, nothing like he was used to. 

'Can I tell you a story?' He watched you nod your head. ''Humanity is a pest, y/n. We are poisoning our world with this structure and order, depending on these vices as if we were not the ones who had created them in the first place– there is nothing structural about us! We live our days just waiting for them to be over, numbing ourselves and telling lies to make it feel like it means something while it is entirely useless. It is hard to find a pure soul out there, yet… here you are. 

'Me?' you couldn't possibly imagine why you would have anything to do with this. 'I don't understand–'  

'You are at the centre of it all. My sweet sweet little lamb, fresher than fallen snow on a meadow. You are the prime example of what we all could be, a special gift. He sent you to me.' He had been gaining more and more energy and enthusiasm through his speech

'He?' You were starting to feel silly, being able to only respond with more questions and poorly phrased ones at that.

'Vecna,' he breathed out the word in a hush. You had heard him say the name before, but you had never questioned it, figuring it had just been one of the endless characters in his game. Eddie's eyes were bigger than you had ever seen them as he kept on talking passionately. 'He spoke to me, showed me everything. He was the one that made me realise just what a cruel and messed up world this is– and– and I'm not the only one. The people that lived here that died here… You know why they died, don't you? It had all been a part of this plan, you see. A… an offering. They gave their lives subject to a higher power. It was all for a greater cause.

'But they had not meant to die, it all just went so horribly wrong. They didn't know what they were doing, the Creels. But I do! Vecna told me and showed me everything I had to do in order to make this work. I've spent months making sure everything will go right, and you are the key. I need you to do this, y/n. Please.' In the time that you had met Eddie, you had seen a lot of sides to him. You had seen him be happy, sad, angry, tired, hyper, everything between and around it, but this was new. As he spoke to you, he almost seemed desperate. He was shaking with his words, purely out of the need to get his words out, for you to hopefully understand what he was trying to do.

The presence of the cold blade didn't get lost to you anymore, as you could feel it with every breath you took, pressing against your stomach with its flat side. You looked deeply into Eddie's eyes, trying to figure out what his intentions were with it, with you. Surely, he would not actually hurt you? That wasn't him. You could not imagine Eddie, your Eddie, doing such things as your scared mind was conjuring up at the moment. 

'You wanted to help me, didn't you? This would be the most wonderful thing you could ever do for me, y/n. It would be glorious. Just think about it, when it works, the life we will have together. Vecna will show you, help you as well. You just have to let him, let me.' 

Let me guide you, my little lamb. 

Let me help you, my sweetheart. 

Let me use you. 

He needed you. Truly needed you, and only you. You stood there, in your white dress, surrounded by the golden flames of the melting candles, Eddie just far enough not to press his body into yours. As he waited for an answer, maybe bored or nervous, he started tracing the knife over you. The tip of it pinched at your skin, teasing, over your arm up to your collarbone, down your sternum. It had hagged on the strap of the dress, and you had been sure he would have snapped it right off. It would have probably been enough for the whole dress to fall apart. It would pool at your feet, leaving you in nothing but your underwear in front of him. The thought of it should be flooding you with fear, but to your surprise– it excited you. All of it did, in fact. 

'What- what do you need me to do?' You pushed down the lump forming in your throat, but you didn't need much force for it as it dissolved at the sight of Eddie's relieved grin. He kissed the top of your head, the blade in the same hand he brushed your hair with, so you felt the steel at your ear. It made you shiver. You could hear him whisper some more of those little words he always mumbled, still unable to make any sense out of them. Then, he made you leave the circle of candles and walked you to the side of the room, where the symbols were painted onto the wall. It is then that you noticed that the black paint was still wet in spots, freshly applied, but long enough to have already dried up for the most part.

'Give me your hand,' he asked of you, and you eagerly obliged, placing your hand over his palm. But then he pulled that knife up again, and you flinched, which made him visibly upset with a frown. 

'I'm sorry,' you apologised before he had even said anything. 

'I understand, baby, all of this is new, but you have nothing to fear. I'm here, and I've always made sure you're safe, didn't I? Right, so you know you can trust me. Look–' he put up his own hand, flat in front of you, and dragged the sharp knife over the skin, breaking it from the centre of his palm, right to the edge. The blood immediately started to spill out, colouring his pale skin crimson. But what you focused on was how he had not winced, not twitched, barely moved a muscle as the blade penetrated his outer layer. His eyes had been focused on the cut, just to glance up at you momentarily, to ensure you were looking at him. He wiped the knife on his shirt, letting the cut drip out onto the wooden panels of the floor. 'See? It doesn't even hurt.' Then he wiped his hand on his t-shirt, smearing the blood all over it. With the small and shallow cut, it would dry up in a few minutes. There was really nothing to be scared of. Eddie never wanted to hurt you. He just wants what's best for you– what's best for everyone. Just like he had said: restore the world order, make what's wrong right again. 

So, you held your hand out, steady. But as much as you trusted him, you couldn't get yourself to look as he pressed the blade into you. It stung as it moved over your palm. 

'Open your eyes,' Eddie told you. You were greeted with dark red stains on your hand when you did. It was already pooling in the small cup of your manus, dripping between your fingers. It stung as if he had kept on cutting, even though you had heard him put the knife away. It was lying untouched on the set of vintage drawers now. 

Eddie's next words were another request, as he guided your fingers to close in over your palm. 'Squeeze it.' And he pushed your fingers closed. You yelped at the shooting pain that came from it. The indentation splurged for more blood to come out. You saw flashes of white in front of your eyes as Eddie pressed it harder. 

'You see it, don't you?' He asked you eagerly. You nodded, keeping your tears at bay. You didn't want him to see you cry, not when you didn't even mean to. It was just sort of happening. 

Then, Eddie pulled you a step forward, pressing your bloody hand against the wall. This again pulled a wince out of you. It was so sensitive, and he pressed it so hard. He needed the blood to make its mark. He used you like a paintbrush, adding strokes of red over the black, making new symbols out of the already existing ones, finishing what he had started. 

'Look how great this looks. And it could only be you, to make it all work. Only someone as pure and innocent as you has that kind of power.' He had everything prepared in advance, so when he dropped your hand from the wall, he reached for a towel that he had also placed on that dresser earlier. He pressed it into your hand, applying the right kind of pressure this time to hopefully stop the blooding rather than encourage its continuation. He took care of you, just like any other day, showing you that he was still your Eddie after all. There was nothing to be scared of. 

'Is this it?' You looked up at him, the towel still wrapped around your hand. His sympathies peaked through the corners of his lips. 

'Not just yet, baby. There's one more thing, but this we can do together, and I promise you'll enjoy it much more than this.' 

'What is it?' 

'You already started the cleansing process, but we have to show Him that we mean our loyalty, and for that, a sacrifice is needed– just a small one, don't be scared,' he hushed, taking the towel away. 'And don't be nervous. I know you will do well; I made sure of it. That's why we waited. Had to know you would be able to handle it, but you're ready now.' That funny feeling in the pit of your stomach emerged again, covering your body in a flash of heat. It was that frustrating sensation you just could not get rid of that even Eddie could not help you with… but now you were ready. So what the two of you did in his bedroom last Friday… the cycle would be complete. There would be no more torture and pleading for a release. He could bring you to it, finally. 

'You're ready now.' Eddie didn't show it, as he repeated his last words, but he was conflicted about it all. It broke him to see you lose some of that innocence, but it had to be done, and it was an honour that he would be the one to do it. Better him, who understood the value of your purity, rather than some boy who would use you for his own pleasure. In a way, he was doing this to protect you, too. By letting you join him in his venture, he was ensuring safety for you. He would protect you. Vecna will protect you. 

But for this, he actually had to make you his. 

Again, holding your hand, he led you through the room. Avoiding the candles spread out over the floor, he got you to stand next to the bed. Both your hands were sticky with drying blood. The cut still burned when he squeezed at your hand, but neither of you showed any signs of discomfort. 

He wondered if once this was all over, your eyes would still be full of the innocence he was so enamoured by. Would you still look at him with this naive bewilderment, or would he ruin you completely? If so, that would be his sacrifice. He would give up the pleasure of the sight for the sake of the greater good, naturally. 

This would then perhaps be the last time you looked at him this way, so he would have to cherish it to the fullest extent. He let his fingers draw down your face, caressing the soft apples of your cheeks. Finally, his thumb moved over your chin, barely touching your bottom lip. How long he had needed to feel it, touch all of you, but held back. Now he finally could, though. 

Too immersed in his deep brown eyes, you didn't see what was happening around them. You only heard him pull something out of his pocket– material. It was a handkerchief. But not the black skull he would wear often around the school. This one was white, like your dress. However, it was quickly getting tainted by the pink of the last remaining blood that could still transfer from his hands. How you had not noticed it on him before was a bit silly. 

The material was smooth and pleasant to the touch, warm, as Eddie pulled it over your face. The metallic scent of blood wavered over it; no one could tell whether it was his or yours. Eddie tied it behind your head, making sure your eyes were covered, and just like that, you were enveloped in darkness. 

'By taking away one sense,' he whispered into your ear, 'all the others get heightened. It is an experience like no other, to submit yourself to the elements. An honour. Now– ah.' He hadn't even needed to ask you anything, as when his thumb fell over your bottom lip, your mouth immediately parted, like an impulse, to let him enter. He pressed the finger over your tongue and watched you suck on it desperately. This was it—the first touch. Just like that, one simple act had already been enough to corrupt you. 

'Sit down. On your knees. There we go, so good for me.' If he hadn't known better, if he hadn't made sure you never lied to him about what you have or have not done, he wouldn't have assumed you had experience, that you knew exactly what you were doing. That his little lamb was, in fact, just a whore like everyone else. But no, of course, you weren't. He had prepared you for this moment, let out what was only in your nature already. It was the right thing to submit to his touch like this. 

But eventually, after a few seconds, he had to pull his hand away from you. The action came unexpectedly, and you were ready to follow him, even though you couldn't see where he had moved to. You tried your best trying to figure out what was happening, using those other heightened senses to their fullest potential. You could hear the flickering of the flames around you, and the burning smell came with it, which was still not strong enough to cover up the musky scent of Eddie, how the wooden floor dug at your knees, even through the fabric of your dress. And even though you could not see him, you could feel his presence towering over you. 

It didn't matter how much you tried to focus on your surroundings; nothing would have prepared you for Eddie grabbing you by your chin to pull your face up, hollowing your already open mouth into a perfect little O-shape. Next thing you know, you heard a strange noise and felt something wet touch your mouth, spill into it. The sensation made you squirm, no idea what it was that Eddie had just done. You didn't know what to do. 

'C'mon, baby. You know what to do when you have something in your mouth. Swallow.' He shut your mouth with his grip on it, helping you take the spit– because that's what it is, you realised– down your throat. He hummed in satisfaction through your whimpers. 'It's ok, baby. This is all a part of it. Got to get used to each other, it's all bonding.' He wanted to be closer to you, connected, and that idea warmed your heart. The way his hands then brushed over your hair, you nearly mewled into the touch. 

Trying to position him was difficult, as he seemed to walk circles around you, his lips filled with those mysterious words and mumblings again. If you could see now, you would have stared at the ground or the hands you had placed over your lap. His flavour was still in your mouth, and it felt strange, but not in the wrong way.

He had walked another circle around you before stopping at your back. You felt the tension on the dress as he pulled at one of the straps, letting it slide down your shoulder. Then the other. Eddie undid the zipper from behind you as slowly as he had pulled it up the day before in the dressing room. Except for this time, you were not wearing a bra underneath it. It wasn't the kind of dress that would really work with one, you had thought in the morning. It certainly wouldn't look pretty, with the undergarment straps visible, and you wanted to look nice when seeing Eddie… so, that is how you ended up sitting on the floor in this old house, hands on your lap as Eddie pulled the dress off of your top half, revealing your breasts to the hot air.

'So beautiful.' he said, mumbling something under his breath again. 'Absolutely beautiful. He let his hand wander over to your chest, toying with the nipples, taking turns in giving attention to them. To think he was the first person to have the pleasure to touch you like this. To make you arch your back with just a simple pinch– oh, and the sounds that fell from your lips as he pulled at them, he started to feel the constraint of his jeans. Stand up. 

Your legs were already sore from the position you had been sitting in, and they trembled as you got up. The dress fell off your legs, down to the ground as you did. You stepped out of it, accidentally kicking it to the side. A bitter smell erupted from somewhere in the room like the smoke was getting stronger. 

'What is that?'

'Nothing,' Eddie's calm tone had wavered for a moment, or so it seemed his following words were just as smooth and charming as before. 'Nothing you have to worry your pretty little head about. Just, c'mere,' It would have been difficult for you to do that with the blindfold in front of your eyes, but he had reached out with his hands to you.

And then, his lips were on yours. They were chapped as always, feeling a bit rough compared to how soft yours were. He tasted like the cigarettes he smokes when you aren't around, combined with another bitter flavour you couldn't place. It was soo much to take in, your senses all going into overdrive trying to keep up with him. You didn't know what to do with yourself, so you stood still, letting your lips move accordingly to how his did. But he kissed you with such an urgency, such hunger and vigour; you could hardly keep up.

It was messy and left your head spinning, nothing like you had actually expected your first kiss to be, but it was still perfect, as it was with Eddie. 

You were now completely naked, standing in this attic room filled with candles; Eddie was holding on to your sides, kissing your neck. Each time his lips left your skin, it didn't even matter as you could still feel him on you. The trace he left behind was sloppy and needy and seeking out the weak spot on your neck so you could roll your head back in pleasure. All of these feelings were so new to you, so overwhelming, but you understood why Eddie wanted you to wait, why you had to be ready for this… and it was only the beginning. 

Perhaps Eddie got a bit over-excited, for he suddenly picked you up off the ground, hands around your thighs. The suddenness made you scream out. You were utterly disorientated as he took a few stops and then dropped you down onto the bed. It could not have been a drop of more than a foot, but your stomach twisted. The mattress creaked loudly underneath you, but didn't continue as Eddie had not joined you in the bed just yet. So you lay there, waiting for whatever would come next– which was that Eddie had grabbed you by the hand and pulled you across to the head of the bed. A shriek left your lips. It would have been better if he had told you what he would be doing. The constant uncertainty of it all made your brain whirl. 

And then he took your other hand, before you could even say something and gripped both your wrists tightly. 

'Eddie, what–' you felt the cold metal against your skin and the faint clink of something locking. When he released your arms, you wanted to pull them away from what you assumed was the headboard, but you could barely move anymore. 

'Remember those handcuffs that always hang in my room,' Eddie had leaned down beside the bed to be at your level. As you could not see anything, you kept your head straight up, directed at the ceiling. Your breathing got heavier, the constraints confusing you, but Eddie had his reasons. 'It might all get a bit too much for you at a certain point, so this will help you keep grounded. And a physical restraint helps us as a reminder that we should restrict ourselves in indulgences, the things that only break us more. We do not want to get carried away, so this will help, I promise. Just trust me.' He kissed your cheek, which felt wet for some reason. His thumb brushed over the same spot his lips had just met, and then, for a short time that felt like an eternity, there was nothing. Eddie had moved to another part of the room; you could still hear him, walking, shuffling around, mumbling his usual incoherent phrases to himself. You tried to listen to them, finally trying to make out what he was saying, but it was too soft of a whisper that ended too close to his mouth. 

'My little lost sheep has finally found her way,' he said when he came back, the weight on the bed shifted, 'I have done my best guiding you towards this point, y/n, have done anything I could to protect you, to make sure you ended up here, where you belong. Now, you have to tell me, make the final decision– do you want this?' 

'Yes.' You wanted him. He had been gone far too long, and you were already missing his touch. The anticipation was building inside you, coming together at your centre, burning with a need for him. You had thought that hunger and thirst that had been torturing you over the past weeks, the one Eddie had told you to ignore, that it had died down after the little help he had given you, but it was all coming back ten times worse. Something in you was eating you alive, and you couldn't lay still anymore, closing your legs, trying to get some kind of friction from the movement of rubbing them together, trying to find an angle at which some kind of relief would come out. 

'Should have brought something to tie those pretty legs down as well. Stop, please.' He placed his hand over your thigh, rubbing circles over it slowly, 'you're gonna hurt yourself, moving like that.' So, you did stop, both the wiggling of your legs and tugging at the cuffs in frustration. His touch on your leg got rougher as he spread your legs wide open, revealing you to him. 

'Yes, there is no doubt about it, sweetheart. You are ready.' He said voice laced with something that you had never really heard before in Eddie– pure lust. So ready, and he touched you. Right there, between your legs, this time with no panties or jeans to keep you apart, you felt his calloused fingers slide right over your slit. He moved his hand up and down, stroking lightly, and with each lap, he would add a bit more pressure, letting his fingers slip past your folds but not entering you quite yet.  

You moaned; you didn't whimper, mewl or giggle. You moaned out his name. He had broken you now. Unsealed you. He was going to make you his. 

His little lamb. 

His fingers started moving faster, slipping inside you now and then, teasing. But you took it all so well, taking anything he gave you with the most gratitude. It was all so new, so much all at once; even a tease of his fingers was enough to make you see stars. He broke your barrier, broke you; there was no going back now that his fingers were deep inside you. Each time shooting up sparks through your body, letting you revel in it. You pulled at the handcuffs again, not because you needed to get out of them, but because you felt the urge to react somehow, and this was the only thing you could do. Hands tied up in the metal, legs spread out, and hips pushed down by Eddie's grip, you were stuck in a prison of delectation.  

As his fingers continued making you feel ecstatic, he kissed your thighs over and over again. A sweet and haste peppering of his lips at your sensitive skin, hot and needy for both of you. When he pulled his fingers away from you, you could hear a smacking sound, followed by a hum. 

'You know what you taste like, sweetheart?' 

'No?' you could not say that had ever been something you thought about, but now that he had subjected the question, you were eager to find out. 

'You taste like the sweetest nectar,' he kissed your stomach, 'Perfect and pure.' He could not get enough of your authenticity, your unadulterated and untouched body. It still hurt him to think that it would not last much longer, this vestal beauty and glow that seemed to radiate off you, but something so much better would come. Just you wait and see… 

Eddie started repeating his little phrases anew as the kisses continued, and, this time, you could hear his mumbled words more clearly, each syllable emphasised with a breath of hot air against your core. The exact meaning of the words might have escaped you, but it did not stop them from sounding like what it was. A prayer, a blessing, finished with his sigh of "Hail Lord Vecna" in almost a whisper, before delving between your legs and kissing you there passionately. 

The scream had not meant to come out, as the only thing you felt was a foreign pleasure. It was just a heavy shock to the system. Never before had you felt something like that. 

Eddie's tongue pressed deeper into you, dipping at your sweetest spot, licking at your arousal. Before this, the handcuffs had not felt much like a nuisance, but you understood it now. All you wanted to do was to grab Eddie by the hair, pull it, show him how good it made you feel– but it could be distracting. It could pull him out of his concentration, ruin his whole plan, everything he had worked so hard on. 

Yes, he had prepared, as he knew exactly what he was doing, reaching your desired spots, kissing you in a way you never expected a kiss to feel. You were glad he didn't tell you to keep quiet, because it did not seem to be a possible task. Moans kept leaving your mouth constantly.

'Eddie! Oh my–' your eyes rolled back, hips bucked up, which Eddie quickly pushed back down. But, to your horror, he pulled away from you entirely, and if you could see him, you would have seen his eyes, now almost as dark as a starless night, stare at you. 

'It's not me you should be thanking,' he kissed your pelvis before whispering another "hail Lord Vecna". 

'Hail Lord Vecna,' you repeated after him, but much breathier. 

'Yes, good, sweetheart. Say it again, Louder. He will be so happy to hear your voice say his name.' he encouraged. 

'Hail Lord Vecna,' you dared to say it, and Eddie supported it with a new kiss toward your clit. Then, with each repeat of the phrase, he extended it and kissed you longer and deeper until he was back to eating you out completely. 

Hail 

Lord 

Vecna

Not long after, the feeling came back, except ten times harder, as if you had already been circling around it for hours. Again, the knot in your stomach tightened. It was coming closer and closer– 

But Eddie pulled away again, at which you mewled out. 

'No, please, please,' you whined, much to his amusement. Eddie started making his way up again, hands on either side of you, leaving kisses all over your body, his metal necklace chain trailing behind until he reached your lips once more. His chin was wet with your juices, and you could taste yourself on him as he kissed you. A flavour that turned your stomach, but Eddie's hands were still on you, kneading and squeezing at thighs and hips, and then he pulled the blindfold off of you. It was dimly dark in the room, but you still had to get used to the light of the candles. Most of them had already started burning out. 

Eddie hovered above you, the white handkerchief in his mouth before he spat it out next to you. His hair fell down his face, the tips tickling at your collarbone and neck. All you wanted to do was to brush your hair through it, but you couldn't move your arms more than an inch away from the ornate headboard. 

'Eddie,' you whimpered, tugging at the handcuffs again. He just smiled and leaned in to kiss you again. That's when you noticed he had also taken off his clothes. You were both naked, piled on top of each other, in the most intimate and compromising position a person could find themselves in. 

Your heart was beating faster and faster, pushing against your chest, drumming in your ears. This was it. This is what everything had been leading up to. The moment Eddie had been preparing you for. The climax of his plan. 

He kissed you once more, tenderly.

'This might hurt, baby, but it should. It will be a good pain. The best feeling you've ever felt, so don't be scared, ok? It's all going to be ok.' He spoke with his eyes locked on yours; you were dazed and confused, unsure what he was talking about. You had already felt so good, couldn't possibly imagine something that would feel even better. 

But then the pain did come. There where his fingers, and his tongue, had been, and now you felt something stretch you out on the inside. Eddie pushed inside you, ripping you open, stretching you out. 

'Eddie!' You tugged at the handcuffs, but they didn't budge just like before. 

'Shh, this is good. It will be over soon. Trust me. Just trust me,' he repeated as he moved his hips. Moving out of you, but the pain didn't stop. Not when he pushed back into you or when he moved back out. With every thrust, it seemed to get worse, harsher and rougher, the pain not ceasing to stop but instead shooting up your spine. Soon, the tears started to roll down your cheeks again. 

'It's ok, it's all alright,' Eddie whispered, kissing your nose, but he let the tears roll this time, dropping down your ears into your hair and onto the mattress. Just another sign of your loss and what you were willing to give him. How good you were, so willing to give yourself up for the cause. He was so proud, and then your moans returned, and he felt his heart grow twice in size. You looked, sounded, and felt so perfect. 'Yes, that's right. So good. C'mon, baby, doesn't this feel good?' 

'Yes, yes,' you managed to say. The pain had finally receded and slowly turned to the promised pleasure you had been waiting for. The moans were now seeping out of you, body shaking at the force he was taking you with. His lips had made their way down to your breast, kissing at the valley between them, kissing over your pebbled nipples, sucking lightly, stimulating an even higher scream of pleasure from you. He kept on going, hard and fast. 

How right he had been, saying this would be the best feeling you'd ever feel. There was nothing like it than to feel him inside you, stretching you out, hitting at the right places that made your toes curl. He kept this power over you with just his movements, controlling your body with his, giving you so much to respond to. He had prepared, knew what to do to the right reactions out of you, what would please or not, what to do to make it all work. Not much longer now. It was so close, all coming to an end. 

'So beautiful,' his voice was airy but in a lost sense. He was seeking out oxygen as he continued his strikes. Both your breathing started to get heavier; everything was getting hotter and hotter around you. Your stomach tightened, and you remembered what Eddie had told you the first time it happened. 

'Eddie! I- I'm–' what was it that he had called it? You whimpered the words out before it got too much. 'I'm close! Please.' What you were pleading for, you weren't sure. But you had waited so long, so excruciatingly long, you couldn't take it anymore. 

'Wait, baby. Just a bit longer.' He huffed out, his thrusts becoming sloppier. 

'Eddie,' you cried out. How much more could you possibly wait before you would explode? 

'Be good for me. I know you can do it.' You wanted to cry and scream. He had made you wait so long, then said you were ready, just for you to wait even more. When would it finally end? When could you finally gain your euphoric release? 

Was this the sacrifice? This torture he put you under, was it all for the sake of his plan? Would this appeal to Vecna? Your tears and screams as you lost a piece of yourself to him, would that heal the broken part of the world? 

'Hail Lord Vecna,' he grunted with his final juts of the hips. It made your ears ring and your skin rise in goosebumps. And this gravelly coarseness stayed in his voice. 'Come. Come to me.' 

You would follow him anywhere; you knew that. And as he stopped to let his pleasure release into you, you followed right after. Stars were crossing over your shut eyes. You couldn't breathe, move, or do anything but let it all wash over you. A million butterflies fluttered inside you. 

Eddie cursed as he pulled out of you, and you immediately felt empty. It was like a spell had immediately dissolved out of you, and the fatigue took over. 

Just like that, it was over. 

'Here we go,' he breathed out, pulling the chain off his neck, where his guitar pick hung, but now it was also joined by the little key that fits into the handcuff lock. With a click, one cuff opened, then the other, and you were free to let your arms drop to your sides. 

You thought that moving was not an option anymore as you lay in that old bed, staring at the cracks in the wooden ceiling. The muscles in your arms were already souring, only to get even worse by the time the sun would rise again. You'd have to get home, but the idea of just getting up off the mattress was making you tired. Even rolling over to your side to greet Eddie's face was too much at the moment. 

But you could not stay there forever; the candles would burn out entirely soon, shrouding you in darkness and the cold. So, slowly you managed to get up, ignoring how everything seemed to sway around you. Just had to close your eyes for a second. 

You rubbed at your wrists, which were now red and sore from the handcuffs. Eddie had gotten off the bed, too, pulling his shirt over his head as you looked around to see your dress on the floor. The white fabric was covered in red stains. There was no way you could wear this outside now; what would your parents think if they saw the blood?! And maybe, relatively, it wasn't even that big of an amount, but the contrast on the snow white enhanced each drop to an extreme. 

'Eddie,' you gasped, reaching out for the garment, and that is when you noticed the scorch marks underneath. That bitter, smoky smell– it had been your dress burning. You wanted to cry. It was the only thing you had brought with you– your special gift from Eddie nonetheless– and it was now completely destroyed. 'I don't–' 

'Shhh,' he sat back down on the bed, taking your hand in his. The wounds on both of you had stopped bleeding entirely and were closing up, but it still hurt when he dragged his finger along the harsh line. Then, he leaned down and pulled a duffel bag from underneath the bed. It must have been where he had carried everything in. when he opened the bag, you saw a sealed candle, identical to some of the lit, nearly burned up ones around you. But he wasn't pulling the candle out of the bag. Instead, Eddie showed you clothes you recognised all too well. 'I brought these for you in case the dress wouldn't work out after all.' And he handed you the shirt and shorts, both yours, which you had had for years, your favourite until you had lost them, so you thought. Things got misplaced; after all, you could have easily forgotten them once you had been at Eddie's place. 

The fact he had kept them for you and brought them along to this house in case you would need a spare change of clothes… warmed your heart. 

With happy tears threatening to escaper your eyes, you hid your face in the crook of his neck. 

'I'm sorry, Eddie', you mumbled against him, still feeling horrible that his gift to you had been ruined. 

'It's ok, baby. We'll get you a new one.'  He caressed his hand over your back, giving you something to find comfort in. after all, that's all he wanted, for you to be safe and happy. Nothing but the best for his sweet little lamb. Always leading her in the right direction, straying from the dark and the dangerous. 'How about a black, this time? Or a pretty red one?' 

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[thatbitchery]

Unlearn the dumb idea that inflicted pain justifies your reaction to it. It doesn't. Ladies elite women make it because we have a level of stoicism that borders on sociopathic apathy, exhibit A: we don't react to triggers we mimosa, sleep, see if it's worth it then logically make decisions. The idea that when someone does you dirty you have the right to react based on emotions so you're angry mad throwing names & hands sending texts talking sheet & other loser girl things is dumb dumb. You're not justified to react. 'They did me wrong' . So? Sit down, watch Netflix, wait for the emotions to pass then use the head God so generously gave you + that pretty face bonus.

When you react to people doing you wrong you give them the permission to bypass their actions & focus on your reaction so if your bf cheats on you & you start screaming sending 1b texts making titktoks he can bypass his cheating & focus on you're immature you're abusive why did you hit me you're mentally unstable you throw things around bla bla & will never face what he did. When we say be non reactive we aren't asking you to be a stone we are asking you to be smart. Do you want to get manipulated? Abused? Sit down get a manicure & go for brunch. Run to your room scream cry anhiliate your pillow but when they're watching its Elsa Lite, froooozen ice queen don't let them in don't let them see, ever.

One tactic m3n use in divorce court is to get the lady so triggered she loses her cool then it's look at her could you live with that? I'm taking my child this is an abusive woman & men don't leave relationships they just trigger you into irrational behavior and use that as an excuse & crying is worse what did we say about public vulnerability? Go cry to your bestie and God in your house out here tears are a sign to bully you. When you're not reactive you throw THEM out of balance and you hold the cards, once you go 'right to my opinion I'm the victim' we'll find you a grave bc that's called social suicideeee.

Two friends. Real life story here, ladies. Ah high-school back in the good old days.

We call them Allie and Sara. High school circles were tight so you're friends with someone you're also friends with their bfs, right? Alice & Sara both got cheated on (by m3n looking like area 9 failed experiment Shrek cosplayers but that's not thepoint). The bfs know that they were discovered. Allie, Allie is that girl. Drama girl. Find him in cafeteria & make a scene girl. How could you cheat on me you suck your pp is short anyway bla bla watch me devalue myself. Allie feels good in the moment, her bf leaves and tell his friends of course i cheated that girl is crazy. Would you date someone like her? So immature. Women are so ovarical I can't handle it. Evening the story is- she was abusive. She hit him & threw words in public imagine in private? He's been protecting her in silence, you know women can be abusive too.

Sara, Sara my love. Sara sits next to her Shrek Lite boy and says hey so that girl you kissed, Jane was it? She's pretty. You have taste. End of story. After lunch her Human experiment failure boy says let's talk she says sure abd listens with 'mhm' and nods. She meant nothing babe she seduced me I'm an adolescent what can I do bla bla. She nods says okay and goes to class. Days goes as usual. Evening we get dinner , Weekend we do research for our papers & talk college. Is she talking to him? Yes. Painfully polite, painfully. No emojis no nothing just shallow dry polite texts. Let's talk about this babe- is left on blue ticks. Monday morning her factory reject lookalike is losing his mind, she's being painfully polite, in a shallow way, so he resorts to triggering. It's because you're like this you are like a man and I'm straight I need a woman bla bla. She says OK then turns to the next person & did you hear about the trip to the beach? Of course I'm going. Boy realizes that's not working & resorts to Allie behavior- throw a tantrum in public make yourself the victim why won't you give me the pleasure of being the one to push you to your edge? Sara says babe pull yourself together you're embarrassing your family. Do you need your anxiety meds? My therapist is good she can treat hysteria are you okay? No this isn't like you, this is hysteria babe do you need psychological help? No this isn't normal , hey do you guys think it's normal to do this? I'm calling your mom babe we are getting you a mental check hold up-

Heres a little secret. In private? In our dorms? Sara was BAWLING her eyes out. Chocolates & Styrofoam cups. We are talking 3am on the bathroom floor. In public?

Guess who won.

Unlearn the idea that you're entitled to reacting to others actions to you, you're not. Learn to hold your tongue and tears and smile and Elsa don't let then in don't let them see then call mom and spend the rest of the week in her arms crying. The amount of women I've seen triggered out of their jobs, marriages, houses, parenting &c when they were 10000% the victim from lack of emotional intelligence is unforgivable.

Dont, be dumb. Don't let yourself think you have the freedom of expression, you don't. Not in the way you want to. Go write a poem but remember everything you say can and will, in fact, be used against you.

Non reaction is the highest level of power in existence. Mind over body. Logic over emotion.

[lisired]

keep on

pairing: johnny x (f) reader

genre/warnings: smut, angst, non-idol au, fwb!johnny, alcohol consumption, mentions of addiction/alcoholicism, daddy issues, mommy issues, unprotexted sex (dont b silly wrap ur willy!)

summary: All things love and commitment are feared upon by you. You keep a tight crew and let few people in, cynical of other’s intentions and leaving a trail of broken hearts in your wake. If you break other people’s hearts first, they can’t break yours. And yet, it was all too easy falling for Johnny, digging yourself into a depthless hole of love. But he is no exception to your heartache games.

word count: 13.6k

a/n: this was a pretty quick write. inspired by keep on by kehlani, garden (say it like dat) by sza and off the table by ariana grande featuring the weeknd. have fun reading <3 feedback is appreciated!

Through the blurry lenses of your eyes, love was a synonym for heartbreak.

It happened everyday. People gave people their all and in return, they received nothing but brutal agony. You had seen it happen and experienced the heartache firsthand.

Like when your father left your mother. And thus, the baby they had brought into this world together. It stung like nothing else to watch what became of your mother, drowning her sorrows in liquor. She was never the same.

Perhaps she had passed her bad habits down to you. The apple never falls far from the tree, they say.

Irene’s house was your deemed safe haven for the night. It was Friday and you were having a girl’s night out, but given the gruesome work week everyone had, no one wanted to truly go out.

You strutted inside and collapsed against her island, dropping your purse on the surface. “Get me drunk,” you sighed, tired beyond imagination. Not to mention the text message creeping in your mind.

Yeri giggled and slid you a glass. She had already been drinking, you could tell. She got all bubbly when tipsy. She reached for a bottle, and said, “Irene’s getting the good shit. She’ll be right back.”

They got the bottles and poured the glasses. When they were empty, you didn’t hesitate to fill them up again. There was no doubt that the next morning would bring you a terrible hangover, though you wanted to drink like there was no tomorrow.

You wanted to forget everything. Forget men. Forget the way that they all hurt you. Fuck that, you didn’t even want to remember what hurt was or meant.

They were nothing but trouble.

As the hours ticked by, less and less of your sullenness was masked by your inebriety. It became evident that there was something plaguing your mind. You sat slumped on the couch, bitter.

Irene sat beside you when the coast was clear. The girls had either passed out or gone back home if they were sober enough. But you were seated on her sofa, reeking of depression.

“We can always talk about it, you know,” Irene said softly. She grabbed your hand and let you rest your head on her lap. “It might make you feel better to open up.”

You shook your head and quipped dryly, “And ruin your perfect girl’s night? I thought the point was to de-stress.”

Irene gave you a faint smile and patted your head gently. She was one of the few people who knew the extent of trauma you dealt with. Your every secret was kept under lock and key but she protected them with her whole heart. Irene cared for you, that was undeniable. All things considered, she was like a mother to you. But you depended on no one but yourself and you hated seeming weak. Even if you were.

Besides, there was a time and a place, and this was neither. Ranting about your daddy issues wasn’t the point of tonight. It was to clear your head. Nothing good came out of recalling the irreversible damage your father had inflicted upon your broken family.

I’m sorry. Let me make things right, the text you received read. It made you feel a fusion of emotion - anger, sadness, confusion, disgust. What he did, upping and leaving, was unforgivable. It was a sin.

He broke your family. There was nothing he could do or say to make things right, to mend the shattered pieces. If he wanted to leave then he should have stayed gone. He had no right to try to come and intrude years later. He didn’t get to pick and choose when he could be in your life.

Irene was firm when she told you, “I’m here for you whenever you need me. I know you like to think that you don’t need anyone, that opening up makes you vulnerable, but being vulnerable is okay. I’m not going to attack you for being human and having the feelings you push away.”

Right in the heart - that was where her words always hit you. Irene had a habit of always being right, even if the truth hurt. Even if you desperately wanted her to be wrong. And yet, she never was.

But your lips were sealed. It was too much. Irene could try and soothe you, but even she couldn’t always break you. She sighed, but had another solution.

Irene lifted your head off of her lap and stood, rummaging for her keys. You stared at her with confusion. “What are you doing?”

“I’m taking you to Johnny’s. No buts. If there’s anyone that can get you to open up, it’s him, and the very last thing that you need to be in this state is alone.”

Your eyes flickered with shock. It wouldn’t be the first time that a drunk you had been dropped off at his doorstep - and it more than likely wouldn’t be the last - but you always woke up penitent the next day.

Johnny didn’t deserve that. He deserved better than you.

“But…”

“Ah, ah, ah - I said no ‘but’s,” Irene wielded her dismissive weapon of a finger. Her motherly instincts were kicking in and it meant that her decision was final. “Let’s go.”

With no other option, you followed Irene to her car with a slight stumble in your walk. Given they lived in the same neighborhood, you were at Johnny’s place in a blink. For some reason, you felt nervous. That was how you always felt around Johnny, even if you knew deep down that you had nothing to worry about.

He keeps on taking me in, you thought somberly. He’s nice to me. Even when I don’t deserve it. And I don’t know why.

If you were sober, you might have felt more guilty. Scratch that, you would have felt like nothing short of a villain. And maybe you were. Maybe you were the bad guy, the wolf dressed in sheep’s clothing.

But that was because you couldn’t help but think everyone else was out to get you. Whatever much excuse you could bring yourself to give.

Irene walked you up to Johnny’s doorstep and rang the doorbell. It was late at night and Johnny liked his rest, but he was wide awake when he came to answer the door. And his entire expression changed when his eyes fell on you.

Johnny had seen you too many times too many in this state and just enough to know when you had spent the past few hours maintaining your friendship with alcohol. It was much more effort than you were putting into yours.

Irene squeaked in her soft voice, “Hi.”

He looked stone cold. It made your stomach twist, just a little. Although you knew Johnny was the warmest person there was. He stifled a sigh and said, “Come on, y/n.”

You shuffled right past him and through the doorway. By now it was routine, yet Johnny thought he would never get used to seeing you this way. He tried to help you, tried to get you to break out of your bad habits. And you were genuinely improving. For you to relapse out of the blue meant that you had been triggered.

When the coast was clear, Johnny shot Irene a glare, and snapped, “Why would you let this happen?”

Irene kept a straight face and took his harsh words in stride. If Johnny lashed out at her, she understood. It wasn’t easy dealing with you, loving you, and she could only imagine what it was like to be in love with you. “I know you’re stressed, but don’t antagonize me for her actions, Johnny. I can’t control what she does.”

“No, but you can enable her. And that’s exactly what you do,” Johnny barked.

“She’s one of my closest friends!” Irene shouted, tears brimming in her eyes. “I would never do anything to hurt her. All I want to do is help her. I’ve been trying. Trust me. I’ve been trying so hard, Johnny. But you can’t help someone who doesn’t want to help themselves.”

Irene never cried. Much less in front of men. She was too busy being strong for everyone else to let herself be weak. She deserved to lash out, too. Being the calm friend, the responsible one, was hard. And she felt like she only got closer and closer to losing you everyday.

Johnny simmered down once he realized that she was right. All of this was unwarranted. He knew that doing this for you over and over again was only hurting the both of you, and everyone you loved, but he loved you too goddamn much to let you go.

It was frustrating. It made him angry - loving you. Being in love with you. Hearing his heart call out your name. And watching you use him just to dispose of him when you were done like he was some replaceable toy. What made him even more upset was that you were showing progress, and he thought that maybe something good could finally come out of it. Now he had to watch it all go down the drain.

Johnny rubbed his temple and sighed out, “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Irene took a deep breath and exhaled. Johnny knew it wasn’t like her to lose her sense like that, but as long as you were hurting, so was she. “Just take care of her. Please. That’s all I ask.”

Johnny gave a nod of head and turned around. He was about to go inside and check up on you when he heard Irene call his name again.

“Please be patient with her. She’s trying.”

She loves you. Irene didn’t say it, but it was clear as day. Written all over her face, swimming in her dark eyes.

He nodded again, more reluctant this time, then pushed his door open and came inside the house. Glancing around, he didn’t spot you nearby. He called out your name, and when you responded, the sound of your voice led him upstairs to his bedroom.

You were now wearing one of his t-shirts, but it looked more like it was wearing you. Things had been like that since you were in high school. He towered over you with the skies above and yet he was filled of nothing but adoration. The memories of you wearing his clothes almost made him break into a smile. Almost.

Instead, Johnny sat down beside you and said, “Are you gonna tell me what happened now or in the morning?”

You frowned. People always wanted to talk, as if talking would make all your problems magically disappear. All you wanted to do was forget that they existed for as long as you could.

Without saying a word, you unlocked your phone, went to your messages, and handed it to him. Johnny gave you a confused glance, but read the text nonetheless. It was from an unsaved number, but the contents of the message gave away everything he needed to know. Clearly, it was from no one other than your father.

“Shit,” Johnny said, more to himself than anything else.

You pushed your knees to your chest and wrapped your arms around your legs. “Yeah. Apparently he wants to make up for leaving his daughter and her mother when she was a toddler and driving the woman he used to love into substance abuse. Funny, right?”

Johnny sighed. No wonder you were beginning to sink back into your old ways. This was a trigger and you knew nothing else.

“How’d he even get your number?”

“My mother’s rash decisions or my cousin’s spite for me, who knows,” you shrugged, chuckling. Family reunions weren’t your favorite. At some point of becoming fed up with your family fiascos, you stopped attending. There was no way that you would see your evil cousin, your old-fashioned grandparents, aunts, and uncles, or even your mother. The only thing she and you shared was resent for your father, but you weren’t sure what she was capable of when drunk.

Johnny frowned. As much as it hurt to see you like this, he understood why you reacted the way you did. He was your best friend and your lover and knew you better than you knew yourself. He knew every bit of your trauma, down to the rawest detail - your childhood, all of the boys you once loved that weren’t him.

Part of him wished that you had given your heart to him first. He would have guarded it with a sword and fought off dragons for you. Instead, the boys you trusted handled it carelessly and shattered it into pieces. Now it was much harder to salvage what was left of it.

Johnny pulled you into his arms. He was angry. Angry at your father, angry at the world, even angry at you. But he wanted to be there for you, even if you took advantage of his kindness. When you felt his hands around you, you wept into his shoulder. He smoothed the palm of his hand against your back, and whispered soothingly into your ear, “It’s okay. Let it all out.”

You wept and wept, until you had no tears left to cry. God, you hated crying in front of other people. You hated being vulnerable, but it came naturally when you were with Johnny. Ever since you became friends in high school. And though Johnny never made a move to hurt you, he could have. That was the part you hated. Being vulnerable to someone meant trusting them not to hurt you the way everyone else had.

When you were done, you pulled away and noticed the damp patch on Johnny’s shirt. “Sorry,” you croaked.

“Shirts can dry,” he reminded, and lifted it above his head. “Let’s go to bed. You can talk to me in the morning when you’re sober.”

You nodded, then climbed into bed with him. To say that you hadn’t been in this position before would have been a lie, but you liked being so close to Johnny. He was your refuge from the world that liked to throw knives at you. And when you bled, he was always there to tend to your bloody scars. He made you feel safe, and that scared you more than anything.

Johnny kissed your forehead. “Goodnight.”

Heat flared in your cheeks. Safe didn’t even scratch the surface of how Johnny made you feel, but it would have to for now. You weren’t ready to unpack your feelings for Johnny. You weren’t ready to confront them.

“Goodnight, Johnny.”

Even in the dark, you saw Johnny smile. And beneath it he hid the storms of emotion induced by you that were killing him softly.

Between the pain of knowing Johnny was hurting because of you and the pain of your hangover, you couldn’t tell what hurt more.

It was a well-practiced routine. You woke up with a splitting headache, a bottle of water and Aspirin waiting for you on his bedside, and sometimes Johnny would be tucked into the sheets next to you. When he wasn’t, he was downstairs making breakfast.

And when you woke up, taking in your surroundings and realizing they were nothing like your bedroom, the regret settled in. You’re so fucking selfish, you chastised to yourself. Johnny was in love with you. That was positively the only reason he put up with your bullshit, but he deserved better.

And you were trying to give him better, to be the one that he needed. Given your habits of sleeping around to ignore the weight tugging at your chest when you thought of Johnny and drinking away your problems, you were trying to stop. Instead of drinking, you ranted to Irene or Johnny. Instead of finding someone to toy with for a night, you tried to be a good friend to Johnny.

It worked. Even the rest of your friends caught on to how much better and healthier you seemed. Then, your dad sent that stupid text and your whole world went crashing down. You didn’t know what to do. You were torn. Ripped and shredded to fucking pieces.

Maybe it was time Johnny accepted that he deserved someone better than you. For his own sake. You were a tainter that ruined everything you touched and rotted it to the core.

You popped the Aspirin and came downstairs. Johnny wasn’t there when you woke up, but judging from the delicious scent wafting through the air, he was downstairs cooking.

“Morning,” you whispered, sitting at the island.

Johnny shot you a glance over his shoulder and tended back to the stove. He was making pancakes. “If it isn’t Sleeping Beauty.”

You blushed and tried to hide it, asking coyly, “Momma’s recipe?”

“You know it.”

That made you crack a soft smile. He was right - you did know. Part of you envied the relationship Johnny had with his parents: strong and healthy. That would never be you. You didn’t remember the last time you spoke to your mother and your father was self-explanatory.

You shook your head, and hopefully the thought away. It was too early. Instead, you focused on Johnny. He was still half-naked, and you caught yourself gazing at the details of his bare back. Damn, did he look good.

Then, you watched him cook, subconsciously trailing off into your own head again. I don’t deserve him. He went above and beyond for you, from making you breakfast to even letting you inside in the first place. He held you and listened to your rants and tried his best to aid you, but you threw that all away. And yet, here he was.

When Johnny was finished cooking, he fixed you both plates and sat across from you. Apart from giving him your gratitude, the two of you ate in silence. After a while, he commented, “I thought you weren’t drinking anymore.”

You stared at your plate, refusing to look Johnny in his eyes. That would kill you - seeing the pain submerged in his eyes staring back in you. It was obvious that you didn’t want to have this conversation, preferring to leave words left unsaid. What you didn’t know couldn’t hurt you.

Maybe you already knew and you were trying your hardest to ignore it.

“Old habits die hard,” you murmured, fiddling with your knife and fork.

Your relationship with alcohol was typical. Although you weren’t addicted, it was still unhealthy. For the most part, when you drank, it was to forget about the feelings and thoughts plaguing your heart and mind. Escapism was your go-to coping mechanism. You weren’t strong enough to confront your problems head-on.

“You can’t keep doing this.” We can’t keep doing this.

“I know.”

Johnny sighed. “What’s on your mind?”

You bit your lip. Of course, Johnny could tell when there was something troubling you. There was no hiding from him. He was the only one capable of coaxing you of an answer.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shown up here unannounced expecting you to take care of me.” Just like you always do.

Johnny was quick. “It wasn’t unannounced. Irene texted me.”

“That’s not the point and you know it,” you said, finally looking up at him. The expression he sported was grim. It hurt to see the way he looked at you, but you knew that you didn’t deserve his beautiful smile. 

He sighed and glanced off, almost looking offended. “Then, what is your point?”

You shook your head. You weren’t ready to have this conversation and you doubted that you ever would be. “Forget it.”

“No. Talk to me. I just hate when you freeze me out,” Johnny urged swiftly. He hated it more than anything else. All he wanted was your love, but he was quick to realize that it was hard to thaw your frozen heart out.

Eyes drifting back to your plate, you shook your head and whispered, “I didn’t know what else to do.”

Johnny softened up. For fucks sake, you were impossible, but he had too much sympathy for you. He understood why you acted the way you did, even if that didn’t ease the pain or validate your behavior. Most of all, he didn’t want you to follow your mother’s footsteps and become the person you swore you’d never be.

Last night hurt him, too. Patient was all he had ever been with you. He had been patient with you for at least ten years. He was so sick of waiting, but it was safe to say that no matter what, you would be his first and last love.

When the room got quiet, you spoke up again in a little voice, “He texted me Thursday night. I still haven’t responded. I don’t know what to do anymore, Johnny.”

“Do what you wanna do,” he told you, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s up to you. You don’t have to forgive him. You don’t even gotta respond. What he did was fucked up and he shouldn’t expect you to give in easily. But whatever you choose to do, your first priority should be letting go.”

Letting go. Easier said than done. All your life, letting go had never been your forte. Part of you was still scarred by your past lovers. Grudges ruined your life.

There were reasons why you came out this way. Of course, part of it stemmed from your childhood, though not everything and your identity was intricately layered.

In high school, you fell for Lee Jeno. He was the sweetest boy that you’d ever met - or at least you thought he was - and he almost instantly swept you off your feet. Jeno had all the girls swooning and the fact that he chose you made you feel a special type of bliss. Until you found him making out with a cheerleader in the locker room.

Then, in college, you decided to give romance a second try. It was Osaki Shotaro’s turn to break your heart. You remembered like it was yesterday and it was all so sudden. Out of the blue, Shotaro broke up with you and told you that he wasn’t in love with you anymore. He left you for another woman. You couldn’t imagine how many times he had been with her all while being with you. It made you sick to your stomach.

After that, you were scarred for life, scared shitless of love. Boys proved time and time again without fail that their only intention was to treat your fragile heart like dirt on the bottom of their shoes. They walked all over it, taking advantage of your blind love. Fed you lies and empty promises of forever.

That was why you kept your heart guarded and under lock and key. You intentionally kept your relationships short and discardable - no strings attached. You didn’t want to trust anyone else with your heart. They threw it in the middle of a busy highway and now it was in traffic.

Trust issues, they called it. Issues - that was your forte. And you had a variety. Trust issues, abandonment issues, daddy issues, commitment issues. Whatever the label slapped on them, they all controlled every moment of your life.

Johnny added, “I know that’s easier said than done, but promise me you’ll try. Will you?”

You nodded your head and fought back tears. Weak was the word you used to describe yourself in your head. It was far too easy to break you. “I’ll try, I promise. But I don’t know if I can do it.”

“I believe in you,” Johnny whispered, voice soft yet powerful. You were convinced that he had too much faith in you. Never had anyone believed in you this much. Never had anyone loved you the way that Johnny did and you didn’t know how to accept it.

Your heart was at constant war, unable to choose between two stances. Johnny wasn’t like the other men once in your life. Or maybe he was, yet hid it well. Maybe he was waiting for you to trust him to break your heart.

Both of you finished eating and changed the subject. It was a relief. Johnny hated making things awkward and you were grateful for that.

After a while, Johnny drove you back home. You hated leaving and Johnny hated watching you go, but he couldn’t say he wasn’t used to this cycle. You stood at your doorstep and said, “Thanks for breakfast.”

Johnny nodded. “Any time. When will I see you again?”

He liked seeing you. Just not after a long night of you disregarding your troubles with sex and alcohol.

“My schedule’s packed Monday through Friday, but maybe one of those nights,” you said. Often you found yourself making time for Johnny when there was none. And in return, he did the same. He showed you a good time and to your definition, that meant a night of relieving pent up stress. “If not, I’ll see you this weekend.”

“Okay,” Johnny nodded again. “Later, alligator.”

Before he could leave, you leaned on the tip of your toes and smashed your lips against his. Johnny seemed genuinely caught off-guard, but he wasted no time in kissing you back, stealing your every last breath like there was no tomorrow. You liked kissing Johnny. Apart from the warm feeling boiling in your chest whenever he pressed his lips to yours, he was just so damn good at making you feel like you were on a cloud.

You pulled back and caught your breath, smiling. “After a while, crocodile.”

Johnny grinned and walked back to his car.

You didn’t see Johnny again until the following weekend.

Not that you didn’t speak. You and Johnny were inseparable and spoke everyday if you could, via texting or phone calls when there was no chance of seeing each other in person. You told him that you needed time to yourself and he both respected and encouraged your decision.

You were busy thinking - an upside of Johnny’s influence. Most of the time you hated being in your head and avoided it at all costs. It was a dangerous place to be, but you were trying harder to not disappoint him once more.

In that time, your father sent you another message. He wanted to meet up with you and was unyielding. The ball was in your court. You could agree to hear him out or you could block his number and pretend it never happened, but it was no easy decision.

Saturday approached far too leisurely. Uneventful days of work and pondering led to the date of your friends’ betrothal party.

With a very Yuta-esque spin to it. The event was casual through and through. The dress code was loose and neither party held good relationships with their family, meaning most of the guests were close friends. It was a pool party and everyone would be in the backyard.

When you caught up to Yuta and Winwin, you didn’t hesitate to ask, “Okay, I’ll bite. Who did it? Who popped the question?”

Yuta fought a smirk and shrugged blithely. “Guess.”

“Winwin?”

Winwin shook his head. “Nope. Contrary to popular belief, Yuta’s quite the romantic. In his own way, of course. He even crouched down on one knee.”

It was somewhat believable. The Yuta from before he met Winwin wasn’t the Yuta that stood before you now. He had seen the light and became a man of all things love and cheesy.

Still, you teased, “No way. Can’t believe the main hoe of the town is settling down. What happened to being non-monogamous buddies?”

“Shit changes,” Yuta said, sighing blissfully as he wrapped an arm around Winwin. Then, he teased back, “Besides, we both know it was either me and Winwin or you and Johnny next in fate’s line.”

You blushed and spluttered, “Where’d you get that idea from?”

Both boys laughed like you had told the funniest joke. You narrowed your eyes, and Winwin answered for his future husband, “I know I’m the latest addition to the gang and all, but even I can see the sparks between you and Johnny. There’s obviously something there. I don’t know why you haven’t acted on it.”

Yuta exchanged knowing glances with you. He probably understood you the best out of everyone present. Your life’s weren’t carbon copy’s of each other, but he had lived the closest thing to your trauma. You weren’t ready. For a while, neither was he, but if he could let go and move on, maybe so you could you.

“There’s been sparks since motherfucking junior high. It’s always been a given that you two like each other and you’ll get together one day in the future. I couldn’t see it any other way,” Yuta said.

That should have made you feel happy, but all you could feel was dread and regret fused with yearning. All of your friends could see you together, but you weren’t sure if you could give him that. How selfish of you to be the one holding the two of you back.

You should have told him to move on and let you go. Instead, you avoided confrontation for as long as possible, craving every moment of his love and attention until the flame went out. You didn’t want to give him all of you yet, but you didn’t want to give him away either. Losing Johnny meant that he would never be yours. Maybe that was what it would take for you to open your eyes.

New guests caught Winwin’s eye and he tugged on his fiancé’s arm. “We’ll catch up with you later, we have to greet the other guests. Come on, Yuta.”

“You go ahead, babe. I’ll be right behind you in a minute,” Yuta dismissed. Winwin only nodded and went to greet their guests. Then, Yuta turned to you and quietly asked, “Everything okay between you and Johnny?”

“It’s your engagement party. Don’t worry about us,” you sighed, searching for the bar through the corners of your eyes.

Yuta was quick to retort, “And you’re my friends. I can worry about you whenever I want. Now, what’s up?”

You bit your lip. This wasn’t the kind of conversation you had in the middle of a betrothal party, but Yuta was adamant. You thought about the last time you had seen Johnny, how you felt when you kissed him. God, you missed the feeling of his lips on yours. Whenever Johnny was near your side you wished that you could hit pause on time. It was funny how the most beautiful moments in life were the most short-lived ones.

Your voice was small when you said, “I’m not a good person, Yuta.”

Yuta glanced at you curiously, eyes urging you on. “What you do?”

“I let Johnny down. A couple of weeks ago I told him that I’d try to break out of my habits. And I was actually doing better. I stopped resorting to drinking whenever something inconvenienced me and finding one-night stands to forget about Johnny.”

Yuta nodded along. “And then?”

“And then, my dad texted me and said he wanted to make things right between us, and I didn’t know what else to do. I got drunk last Friday night and Irene took me to Johnny’s house. I don’t remember much, but I know I winded up telling him what happened and crying on his shoulder,” you chuckled sourly. “He made me breakfast the next morning and we talked about it. And I feel bad because he doesn’t deserve none of this shit. He deserves someone better.”

He deserves someone that isn’t afraid to love him.

“Are you gonna be that person?” Yuta questioned, tone genuine.

I want to be. You exhaled. You didn’t know the answer to that.

You blinked, feeling tears threatening to fall. “I don’t know. The worst part is he has so much faith in me when I’m not even sure about myself. He should have walked away a long time ago, but he’s still here, waiting for me.”

“He’s ready when you are. But you aren’t ready yet, are you?”

Shaking your head, you frowned. You were far from.

“Be better. Do better,” Yuta said assertively. “I know that’s harder than it sounds, but you gotta try. Figure that shit out with your dad. What you choose to do is none of my business, but you have to heal and let it go so that you can be a better person for yourself and for Johnny.”

“That’s practically what Johnny said.”

“Great minds think alike,” Yuta grinned.

You snickered. “You got engaged and got all wise and shit, huh?”

“You know the tale. My dad was a drunk and treated me and my Mom like shit. It was up to me to decide if I wanted to grow into him, or if I wanted to be better,” he spoke monotonously.

But you were scared. You wanted to do things the right way, but you weren’t certain if you knew how. “What if I mess up?”

Yuta didn’t hesitate. “The point of mistakes is to learn. We all fuck up once or twice. That way, you know what not to do so you don’t fuck up the third time. It sucks, but that’s the way life works. Don’t make the same mistake thrice.”

He spoke the gospel. Where your family lacked, you were at least glad to have supportive friends. They were kind and you knew at the end of the day, they were people you could confide in. Maybe you would do it more often.

“I won’t,” you told Yuta. You sounded firm.

“Good,” he replied, and scanned the crowd for Winwin. “Now I gotta go with Winwin before he beats my ass in front of everybody. You go find Johnny, alright?”

You nodded. That you would. It had been too long since you had heard his voice and felt his touch and you were craving a taste. With that, Yuta left to join his husband-to-be and you scanned the crowd for your own lover.

In an instant your eyes landed on Johnny and you could spot him in any crowd. He was at the edge of the pool talking to Ten, who you caught casting Johnny a wink before walking away once he noticed you coming over.

When you got there, you crouched down and sat next to him. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Johnny greeted, instinctively wrapping an arm around your waist. “You look great.”

You blushed. This morning you had deliberately chosen the sexiest bikini set in your wardrobe. It raised the stakes and given how addicted Johnny was to your body, your chances at getting laid tonight. “You look the best.”

Johnny was also half-naked, obviously. And damn did he look gorgeous. You bit your lip. You were thoroughly convinced that the gods themselves had sculpted him. His body was to die for and you were offering yourself up.

Johnny joked, “I won’t argue with that.”

You snickered and nudged his side.

“How was your work week?”

Johnny groaned and you immediately knew the answer to that question. “I’m stressed and exhausted. I need an outlet for my pent up frustration.”

“Oh?” you stammered, mouth suddenly dry.

“Yeah,” Johnny said. His hand ran up and down your back and he leaned to your side, whispering, “Good thing I have you, right?”

There was a crushing weight on your chest that made it difficult to breathe. Whenever Johnny was near you, the pressure came back, and it only got more intense when he did things like that. The effect he had on you was strong and he had you tingling with lust.

“Yeah,” you murmured back, trying hard to keep your cool and avoid appearing anything other than indifferent. But he could see right through you. “Good.”

“What about you?” Johnny pressed. “How was your week?”

“I don’t wanna think about it,” you grumbled.

Johnny was so close to you that you could feel the warmth of his body radiating your skin. Given the sunny weather, you were already hot, but something about this felt internal. It was like trying to breathe on the moon. Johnny parted his lips and suggested, “Kiss me until you forget about it.”

There was no need to tell you twice. You initiated the kiss, steering his lips to yours until they met with a clash. Johnny took control, arms still wrapped around you as he took passion to another level. It wasn’t long before you were sucking on each other’s tongues. You crawled into his lap for easier access, wanting to be as close to him as humanly possible.

Heat flared from your chest to Johnny’s and vice versa, spreading from bone to bone at the skin on skin contact. Whenever you made out, it was like you were floating in air or navigating through space with no gravity. His hands clung to your body and you were on a cloud, elevating and trying your hardest to refrain from grinding down on his crotch.

Johnny deepened the kiss, holding you tightly as possible and moving his mouth against yours fiercely. His heart was thundering against and threatening to leap out of the cage of his bare, burly chest. God, there was no greater pleasure than kissing you and feeling your warm body on his. But you both were putting all of your strength into resisting each other and it was too much. The feelings were overbearing.

When you both pulled away, you exhaled little breaths, hearts racing. You looked Johnny in his lustful eyes and heaved, “I like kissing you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You taste good as hell,” you flirted.

“Mm,” Johnny hummed, nodding his head. He pulled you square to his chest, face hovering hardly inches over yours. You gulped, which undoubtedly didn’t go unnoticed. “What do I taste like?”

You pressed your palms to his naked chest, purring, “Strawberry champagne.” 

“Yeah, you missed the bottle popping,” he chuckled. God knows you would have loved that.

Faking a pout, you replied, “Bummer. I was too busy trying on different bikinis.”

“You wear this all for me?” Johnny flirted, ever the intuitive man. Unbeknownst to you, he had been eyeing you from the moment you stepped onto the scene. And the second he laid eyes on you in your bright red bikini, he knew that he had to have his way with you.

“Especially for you. I know blue’s your favorite color, but red suits me better.”

“You make short work of supermodels in anything you wear,” Johnny growled. He was looking at you from head to toe, as if he were going to swallow you whole.

“You’re just saying that because you wanna have sex with me.”

Johnny wasted no time in shutting you down. “I’m saying it because it’s true. Sex would be a nice bonus, though.”

You laughed.

“Come swim with me,” Johnny said, gently sitting you back on the edge of the pool before coming to his feet.

You hesitated. “Won’t Yuta be upset we ditched him at his engagement party?”

“That wasn’t a question,” Johnny added, lowering his voice. Which definitely did unspeakable things to you. “And trust me - Yuta doesn’t give a flying fuck as long as we join in when it’s time to gather around and shit.”

That was true. It didn’t mean Yuta had unsophisticated tastes, he simply just didn’t care for rules and formalities - untraditional by any means. Winwin was the opposite. Conventional to a fault, he was a man of decorum and the party was a clear mix of both of their personalities. Somehow, they both made it work.

Ignore the pace of your heartbeat, you muttered, “Okay,” and sunk into the pool.

Johnny followed suit with a tiny splash, swimming to your side. Being in the water felt good, all things considered. It was cold and gave your brain - and body - a quick refresh.

“You know, this reminds me of high school,” he started, pensive. “When Joy threw that pool party on the first night of summer break, and Jaehyun pushed you into the pool as a joke.”

The memory made you roll your eyes. In high school you were nothing if not a bunch of stupid teenagers. “He’s lucky I didn’t let myself drown and have my Mom sue him for everything he’s worth. Now that I think about it, I should have. Every penny to his name. Mommy and Daddy Jung would have killed him.”

Johnny chuckled. “Oh for sure. He would have been taking the city bus instead of high-end luxury cars and gotten a job at the nearest McDonald’s like the rest of us.”

“Damn nepo baby,” you shook your head and sighed. “Gotta love him, though.”

“To be born into wealth,” Johnny sighed dramatically.

You giggled.

Moments later, a thought passed your mind. A memory - the beautiful kind. You fought a smile and asked, “You know what else happened at that party?”

Johnny gave you a long, hard cook. It was practically inscrutable and noncommittal. If he had any idea what you were referring to, the only thing that gave it away was the slight smile on his face for a mere fraction of a second.

Of course, he knew. How could he forget? It was easily one of the best moments of his life, made even better because it was spent underneath the moonlight with you.

He shrugged, feigning oblivion. “What happened?”

“We made out for the first time,” you reminded, voice little. “We were each other’s first kiss.”

The memory was anything but vague. The both of you were a little drunk, and somehow found yourselves in each other’s embrace. And then, in each other’s mouths. For someone who had never made out with anyone before, then-Johnny kissed you like royalty. With every intention to conquer your mind, heart, and body.

In that sense, you guessed he had been successful. Johnny lived rent-free in your mind and had built a little home both there and in your heart, with enough room for the both of you. Not to mention your body. You were counting down the seconds until you could get him in the sheets right now. In your attempts to keep him out, you had simultaneously been giving him access to the most vulnerable parts of you.

To say nothing of himself. Johnny wished he could turn back time. Part of him wished that he could undo meeting you and falling in love with you, because he was beginning to lose faith in the two of you. The other part of him loved you too goddamn much to even begin to imagine a world without you in it. It wouldn’t be worth living.

“I remember,” Johnny assured, finally letting himself smile. He couldn’t control it. “Wanna know what you tasted like?”

You squinted. “What?”

“Guess.”

You rolled your eyes and deadpanned, “Your mother’s chocolate chip cookies.”

Johnny’s laugh was mocking. “You wish.”

Whining, you said, “Tell me! I don’t remember.”

He gave in - though because he wanted to and not because you told him to - and replied, “Tequila.”

“The cheap kind?”

“Nope. I’m sure Jaehyun stole that from Mommy and Daddy Jung’s liquor stash,” he quipped.

You snickered. It was a relief that he was good at directing conversation. For a moment, you thought that it was going south. God knows the past was a sensitive subject.

Although he said nothing, Johnny couldn’t help but think about it. For years, he had been in love with you. He remembered meeting you like it was yesterday - you were the new kid in school and Johnny was the one kind enough to be your friend. He showed you around, ate lunch with you, studied with you, and introduced you to his friend group. In no time, you were best friends.

You were his first kiss. Johnny knew he wanted you that night. When he pressed his lips to yours and felt his body elevating into the clouds above, he knew.

Eventually you became a series of each other’s firsts. First kisses, first times, first loves. You had been vulnerable to each other in ways that you hadn’t with anyone else.

And you, you were multifaceted. Johnny had seen the rawest sides of you and fell hard and deep in love with each one - the beautiful and the ugly. All of those things made you fall for Johnny, too, but you noticed it a little later than he did, once it was too late. Which hindered his progress.

By the time you realized you were in love with Johnny, you had already given your heart to the wrong people. That was why you couldn’t comprehend how someone would ever be able to offer you their love, and mean it. That was why you trusted no one.

Forget being your first. Johnny wanted to be your last and as the clock ticked, his chances felt slimmer and slimmer.

You stared at his lips, not even attempting to hide the direction your eyes were searching. “I want strawberry champagne.”

Johnny tilted his head. He had x-ray vision when it came down to your intentions, though this game he wouldn’t mind playing along with. “Do you?”

When you nodded, Johnny took the bait and leaned in to kiss you. It was like magic. Every time felt as surreal as the first one. You just couldn’t believe that you were blessed enough to have him at your fingertips.

Johnny was the same. I love her. It was old news to almost everyone, though the realization hit Johnny the same way it had that night when he first tasted you. When he realized that you were the one and only love of his life.

Sucking on Johnny’s tongue and moaning into his mouth, soaking in all his little sounds was all you wanted to do. Maybe this was why Yuta said you and Johnny would be next in fate’s line. It would be a lie to say that you hadn’t dreamt of having your daddy walk you down the aisle to the man of your dreams.

Though if there was anything that you had learned, it was that fate was an evil lady and she had it out for you.

Johnny soon backed off. He hadn’t had his fill, but you were driving him crazy. And as much as he wanted to be a good friend to Yuta, the urge to drag you away for a fuck was growing stronger. He warned in a low tone, “We’ll miss the rest of the party if you keep kissing me.”

“What’s so bad about that?” you purred, leaning closer to his face. You could feel each other’s breath on your skin. “We can have a party of our own.”

To your credit, you were dangerously skilled at tempting Johnny. It made him feel bad to think that you practically already were having a party of your own. Both of you were surrounded by people, but to him, it felt like there was no one else around you. The sound of your voice and laughter had been drowning out the sound of the presence of people.

With the last of his restraint and self-control, he said, “Mm, that’s tempting. But no. Be a good girl and be patient.”

Immediately, you frowned, but didn’t dare disobey. Johnny would give you what you wanted sooner or later because you knew that he wanted you, too. And though you had your flaws, you weren’t terrible enough to dip in the middle of your friend’s betrothal party.

“Fine,” you said exasperatedly, peeling yourself off of him. “But you better make it up to me later.”

Johnny gave you one last kiss to placate you a little, then whispered softly in your ear, “Don’t I always?”

That he did.

For the better half of the evening, both of you decided to interact with other people, including the ones being celebrated. Most of the time you and Johnny were incapable of resisting each other, and with the thoughts plaguing your minds, there was no way on earth that you would survive side to side without breaking your agreement.

You had a fun time, but you were more than relieved when Winwin announced that he and Yuta wanted some alone time. Everyone said their goodbyes and you raced to Johnny’s side.

“My place or yours?”

“Mine’s closer. Meet you there?” Johnny asked, though he already knew you would. You were practically careening to your car the moment he got the words out.

“Meet you there!”

Both of you arrived in turn, with you slightly ahead of him. You didn’t even wait for him to pull into the driveway before you were rummaging through your purse for the extra key Johnny had bestowed upon you long ago.

It was game over once he stepped out of his car and you were only alone for a split second before he entered, wasting no time in backing you against a wall and stealing a kiss. Johnny always kissed you like it was the last time he would ever get the chance. There was something eager in the way that his mouth moved against yours. It was heated, unchaste. He kissed you so hard that it was impossible to keep up with his pace.

“Someone’s desperate,” you teased through shallow breaths. Johnny nibbled at your ear and you sighed, pitching your head back against the plaster.

He ribbed, breath tickling your neck, “You’d oughta know a thing or two about being desperate. Seeing as you got to my house before me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Shut up and kiss me.”

Under any other circumstances, Johnny would have teased you and made you wait before he kissed you again. Though seeing as he had been waiting too goddamn long for this moment, all he could do was cave.

Goddamn, his lips were soft. In contrast to the rough manner he handled your body. Everything was escalating too quickly and you were being dug into the wall by the weight of his body. There was so much tension in the room that you could hardly even breathe through it.

Johnny nudged his knee between your thighs and stuck his hand down your bottoms, the other roaming your body. “You’re so wet for me.”

“Do something about it,” you whined.

Johnny sneered. Part of him was half-tempted to tease the living hell out of you and see how much you could take. The other was losing hold of his heavy load of patience much more quickly than he would have liked.

“Wanna fuck in the shower to wash off the chlorine? Kill two birds with one stone.”

“Just don’t let me fall.”

He smiled. “I would never.”

Before you knew it, he was lifting you up in his arms like you weighed nothing. You squealed when you felt yourself being hauled into the air, locking your legs around his waist and resting your head on his shoulder. It felt too right being in his hold. As if it was supposed to be this way.

Maybe it was.

Johnny carried you to his bedroom and you clung to his chest for dear life. While he went in the bathroom to run the shower, you began to quickly peel off your clothes. You were on the threshold of insanity, bursting at the seams with lust. 

When the water was hot, Johnny stepped into the shower and you followed suit. As soon as your feet hit the non-skid shower mat Johnny shoved you against the wall, and the noise you made was eaten by the force of his lips. Your palms rose to his wet chest and his mouth fell from yours to your collarbone, soft and plush against your skin.

He simply couldn’t stay away. He spread your thighs apart and slipped one of hands back between them, this time moving them inside of you. Much to your pleasure. “Johnny,” you whimpered, breathless.

The sound of your lips parting to emit his name was like music to his ears and a melody stuck in his head. Thoughts of you underneath him, crying out his name whilst taking his size kept him up late at night, wishing he could rewind time to feel you back in his arms again. Where you belonged. It took every bit of willpower he had not to beg you to stay.

“Think you’re ready for me?” Johnny asked, leering at you with the darkest gaze that made your stomach churn.

You nodded. Johnny was big, that was undeniable, but you had taken every inch of his ungodly combination of length and girth countless times before like a champ. It was almost nothing to you.

He removed his fingers from your cunt and before you got the chance to whine from the emptiness, your lips were widening to sigh at the feeling of his bare cock brushing against your folds. Every second felt like minutes and your patience was wearing more and more thin. You needed him and you needed him right now.

Then, Johnny finally pushed inside, taking his sweet time to fill you. You swallowed him in with ease, simultaneously sucking in the deepest breath you could take. His eyes fell on your chest, water trickling down the swell of your breasts as you inhaled and exhaled.

Maybe taking him wasn’t like nothing. You felt not an ounce of pain, but the pleasure of having him fill you to the uttermost was overwhelming. The stretch meant something.

The moment the head of his girth prodded your entrance Johnny had already felt you pulsing tightly around him and you only kept clenching the deeper he pushed inside. You raced to anchor yourself, clawing at his shoulders while he pushed you firmer against the wall and he caged you between his big arms.

Johnny kissed your neck, then growled, “So tight for me.”

“All for you,” you stammered through thick breaths. It was too hot to breathe. The water burned your skins and Johnny made you erupt in flames all over.

Johnny grinned smugly.

Through hooded eyes, you soaked in the sight of water cascading down his neck - where his muscles flexed - and chest. For the better half of your life, Johnny had been a presence, but you would never get used to how gorgeous he was. His beauty was so ethereal to the point that it felt forbidden to be able to touch him like this. He was sent from the heavens above, both a blessing and a curse to you and your body.

The chains of restraint that bounded him snapped and Johnny latched his mouth to your nipple, meriting an automatic sigh of pleasure from your lips. With how close he was, you wondered if he could feel the thud of your heartbeat. It was racing inside your chest, the feelings you had for him raining hail and begging for freedom. Your heart was bursting at the seams with your love for Johnny and it pleaded desperately for you to unlock its door.

“You’re so hot,” Johnny whispered, keeping himself occupied with your body. Your brain was going into autopilot.

From Johnny’s perspective, your body was a treasure, and he knew its map by heart. All of your weaknesses were on display in his mind and he could choose whichever one he wanted to use to his advantage. He knew what felt good and what felt earth-shattering, and judging from the way you throttled his cock, this was the latter.

Neither you or Johnny talked too much during sex. It was difficult to speak when you were being fucked divested of every little thought you possessed and your mouth was too busy producing other noises.

And all Johnny hoped was that his body could say everything that words could not.

He couldn’t think of anyone else when he was with you, and when you were with someone else, you were still thinking of Johnny. Given the amount of nights you had spent searching for one-night stands you were no stranger to sex, but Johnny made it feel different. The emotions were stronger and so was the yearning. The two of you fucked each other like you had never wanted anything so badly before in your lives.

Johnny struck you somewhere deep and you rasped, “Fuck, baby.”

Fuck, he felt good. Even though you were prone to running away, there was no doubt that you would find yourself coming back for more. Johnny was your home and your heart would always drag you back to him. He owned your body. Whatever he desired to do with you - to you - you would let him. At the end of the day, you were his. Whether he knew it and you accepted it or not.

It wasn’t a choice. It was a feeling.

Looking at the dazed expression on your face gave him deja vu. The first time Johnny had sex with you, he genuinely thought that his heart was going to burst out of his chest. He was nervous, but if anything, dedicated. He vowed to himself that he would learn the ways of your body and put your pleasure before his. Which he did.

It was college, months before you met your soon-to-be ex, and you were freshmen. Giving your virginity to one another was one of the most unsurprising things that you two had ever done. At least back then, you were thick as thieves and did everything together. Who better to give it to than the one you could always bet on?

He still remembered that night like it was yesterday. All of your friends were going to a party, but you snuck inside his dorm while his roommates were away. One thing led to another and soon you were writhing beneath him, calling out his name like it was the only word you knew.

His feelings for you only heightened.

Johnny could still remember how heartbroken he was when you got with another man again - and how angry he was when he broke your heart just like the last guy. The emotions were so prominent that he could still feel them now. How long would it take you to realize that the man meant for you was already right by your side?

Even if he wasn’t the perfect match for you, Johnny knew deep down that he could love you better, because he already had without even needing to be in a relationship with you. Maybe if those boys had treated you right, then he could have came to peace with the fact that fate wasn’t on his side and you weren’t meant to be. But watching you cry after other men treated you like nothing only fed his flame.

“You close, baby?” Johnny asked, aiming to take you over the edge. His number one goal was to drive you out of your mind.

You could only nod, willing yourself not to speak. The words that would have left your mouth if you did were unimaginable.

Johnny fucked you even harder, chasing relentlessly for your orgasms. And you were just as - if not more - eager. He fought a complacent simper as he admired the way you were maneuvering your hips against his, whimpering with every touch.

The look on his face made you run your tongue over your dry lips. Barely were you resisting the urge to smash your lips against his. That look alone made you want to milk him dry of everything he was worth.

As badly as you wanted to savor every last moment, you could feel it in your bones that your orgasm was approaching. Listening to the noises resounding throughout the bathroom was what finished you - the sounds of your moans and Johnny’s hips slapping into yours with every thrust drowning out that of the shower pouring down on you both. You convulsed with release, gripping Johnny’s biceps for dear life as you met your orgasm with a high-pitched cry of his name.

Johnny wasn’t too far behind you. He couldn’t even grunt at the feeling of your nails digging into his flesh - it was outweighed by that of the pleasure of you clenching tightly around him with orgasm. It triggered his own, and he held you bruisingly tight as he spilled inside you with the lowest groan he could muster.

“You okay?” Johnny asked the moment you both were in the clear to speak.

You nodded weakly. “Perfect.”

Johnny smiled.

The two of you actually showered once you had caught your breaths, occasionally interrupting the other with a kiss. When you got out of the shower and re-dressed, Johnny pinned you to his bedroom wall and enveloped your lips in the biggest kiss yet. It was noticeably different from the other kisses that you had shared as of late. They were lustful and impatient. This was slow and steady - like he wanted nothing more than to savor the very taste of you.

He pulled away and whispered adoringly, “I love you.”

Your brain immediately went into overdrive. Given that you were childhood best friends, of course you and Johnny had said that you’d loved each other before. That was indubitable and not to be questioned. But this was different. This was in the context of a post-sex I love you.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean.”

Johnny bristled. “I do mean it. I love you.”

Sighing, you walked off to his bed. You weren’t ready to have this conversation.

He stared at you incredulously, and reminded, “I’m not them.”

It was obvious who them was. Your past lovers. The ones that had left you so heartbroken that you could no longer let anyone inside your glass heart.

You shook your head, voice small when you replied, “I don’t know that.”

Johnny was visibly offended and upset. “How can you say that?”

“I don’t want to fight, John,” you said, exhaling loudly. This had escalated far too quickly and everything was heading in the wrong direction. For as long as you could, you wanted to steer clear of this course. But deep down, you knew that it had been inevitable.

He ignored you, walking closer to you and pestering, “I need answers. Do you really think I don’t love you?”

“Johnny…”

He didn’t relent. “Answer me.”

Frustrated, you shouted, “I don’t know what to think, Johnny! I’m scared to trust people - you know this!”

“And do you think I deserve to be punished for that?” Johnny snapped, white-hot rage seeping through and his restraints falling loose. “You and I both know I’m not just ‘people.’ We’ve known each other longer than you knew them. I’ve been here with you, for you, for a goddamn eternity. When have I ever let you down, huh? Tell me!”

His tone made you flinch and you were given whiplash. Johnny rarely got upset and never did he ever yell at your face, even if you sometimes deserved it. He was patient with you. For him to finally snap meant that you had wounded him deeply.

“I’m scared,” you croaked, teary-eyed.

“Right, you’re scared,” Johnny groused, turning around and heaving a thick breath. “Forget it.”

Pain burned through your chest in flares much like the anger spreading like wildfire throughout Johnny’s. Goddamn, this hurt. Was love supposed to be so complicated? Was love supposed to ache like this?

It hurt so good to love Johnny.

You stood up and shook your head. “No,” you told him, demanding, “Get it off your chest. Everything you want to say to me - say it right damn now!”

It wasn’t for you. No, you knew that the following words to come out of his mouth were going to scar you indefinitely. It was for Johnny. You knew that he had been holding all of this back for a long time and now this was his chance to erupt his heart volcano.

Johnny stormed right back over and said, “You want me to be honest?”

You nodded, tears rolling down your cheeks. He deserved it. You deserve it. You treat him like shit.

“Fine. I’ll be honest,” he seethed. You gulped, bracing yourself for his words to come. “You wanna know something? You’re so fucking selfish. You’ve been breaking my heart just because you’re trying not to get yours broken.”

That was true. You had been sacrificing his feelings in an effort to preserve yours and it was a futile plan - Johnny had already crawled his way inside your heart, yet you were still trying to keep him out.

“You have too much pride to show people your scars and that’s why every time I get closer, you push me away. Because all you know how to do is run like a coward. That’s what you’ve resorted to your whole life because you don’t know any better. But you can’t hide.”

You bobbed your head, willing yourself not to speak. Both of you needed this.

Johnny’s voice got lower as he said, “You think you can hide, but you can’t. You can’t fucking drink all your problems away. You can’t fuck them away, either. You can’t keep running to me and using me to dry your goddamn tears every time you realize all your problems are still there!”

“Johnny…” you called out through tears. As true as his words were, they stung. And guilt was eating at you from the inside.

“No. You fucking asked for this shit,” Johnny snapped, scowling. “I’ve been nice to you and patient with you, but all you do is take me for granted. And it hurt when you said you didn’t think I loved you, because I could have stopped putting up with your bullshit and cut you off a long time ago - but I didn’t. You know why? Because I fucking love you. And walking away would hurt as much as it does to stay.”

You told him softly, “I love you, Johnny.”

“Do you love me enough to stay?”

The room got silent. Did you? You knew that you wanted to, but damn was it hard. You were just so goddamn scared of hurt and betrayal. You had been left before and it broke you. It shredded you to the tiniest of pieces. But Johnny made you feel complete and whole again.

“Answer me. So I know if it’s time we move on,” Johnny commanded, impatient. “Am I just some booty call to you?”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what the hell are you saying?”

“That I need you!” you screamed, the tension getting to your head - and your heart. It was too goddamn much. “I can’t live without you, Johnny. I can’t. I won’t. I’m scared because I don’t want to lose what we have. Losing you would be like losing the other half of me.”

Johnny got in your face again, but instead of yelling at you, he smashed his lips against yours. Just like that, you were relieved of the burden of all your fears and worries. He absorbed them and kept them somewhere safe, just like he did with all of your other secrets.

He kissed you with an emotion that was unmistakable - love. So much love. Maybe you had been blind to it before, but you could see it all clearly now.

Johnny was in love with you. And you were in love with Johnny.

“You’ll never, ever lose me,” Johnny swore in your ear once he detached himself from your mouth. He wiped at your tears with his thumb. “I promise. You’ve got me for life, alright?”

With a couple nods of your head, you crashed into his chest. He wrapped his arms around you snugly, welcoming your touch. This was where you were meant to be.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized after a couple of moments. It didn’t undo the pain you had been inflicting upon him for years, but it was a starting point for something better.

Johnny held you closer and kissed your forehead, then whispered softly, “I forgive you.”

He shouldn’t have, though you were grateful that he did. If it weren’t for his tenderheartedness, you weren’t sure what you would do.

“Let me be yours,” you sang.

It was tempting. You were offering him everything he had ever wanted on a silver platter. Granted, it didn’t take much to satisfy him - all he wanted was you. But as much as he wanted you, he wanted the most authentic version of you.

“Not yet,” Johnny said. You gawked, but he finished before you could interject, “I want to be in a relationship with you, but you need to take care of yourself first. Start tackling your problems. For starters, figure out what you’re going to do about your dad. Okay?”

You exhaled a long breath, but eventually nodded. “Okay.”

Johnny fought a content smile. “I’ll support whatever decision you choose to make,” he assured, pulling you closer to his chest. Then, he glanced down and asked, “Now - are you gonna run away or are you gonna stay the night?”

“I’m going to confront my fears and stay with you,” you whispered, refusing to separate yourself from the warmth of his body. You weren’t sure how you had done it before in the past. Tonight had given you an epiphany.

“Atta girl,” Johnny praised and led you to his bed. You flopped to his side, snuggling to his chest. “I have to go to work in the morning. Promise me I’ll wake up to your pretty face for motivation.”

You giggled, your laughter ringing through his mind beautifully. “I’ll be there. I promise, baby.”

Johnny was beaming from ear to ear. God, you loved seeing him like this. Happy. And he was happy because of you.

He couldn’t wait to wake up beside you in the morning.

Given their engagement, Yuta and Winwin were to have plenty of parties and the betrothal party was only one of many. Today marked the day of the housewarming party.

Their engagement meant that their relationship had developed into something serious. With marriage rapidly approaching, they were certain that they wanted to spend every moment of their lives together. And thus, they decided to move in with each other.

Which was how their new home came to be.

Guests spread out and filled the house to its brim, most of the ones you didn’t recognize being associates of Sicheng. After a couple of hours, you got off of your feet and went to rest in the living room.

And when you saw two very familiar men approaching you, you knew that you would be doing anything but resting.

“Oh no.”

Jaehyun and Ten sang in harmony, “Oh, yes.”

Watching the two of them take seats beside you, you could only wonder what in tarnation they were up to. Jaehyun and Ten were individual wildfires all by themselves, so you weren’t sure if you were ready to face the aftermath of combining the pair. Part of you was certain something would blow up in flames.

Narrowing your eyes, you asked cautiously, “What do you two bloodthirsty leeches want?”

“Chill, babe. We just wanted to hang with our favorite friend,” Jaehyun said. Given the untamed smile on his face, you highly doubted that. Jeong Jaehyun was nothing if not sheer trouble. And his partner in crime, too.

Ten nodded his head in confirmation. “Right,” he smirked, then pointed to the cup beside you. “What’s that - Bacardi?”

“Ha, ha,” you responded, deadpan. “No, bitch. It’s water. Contrary to an oddly popular belief, I’m not an alcoholic.”

Jaehyun interjected, “Babe, I can’t tell the difference between you and an alcoholic. That’s a problem.”

“What he said. I can hear your liver screaming ‘Ten, help me. Help me. Please…’”

You snapped, “Did you guys just come over here to terrorize me or is there something meaningful you have to say?”

Jaehyun leaned and asked quietly, like he was telling you a top-notch secret, “It’s because of Johnny, right?”

You spluttered, “What?”

He smiled, adding, “Don’t worry - you can tell me. Your secret is safe with me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, enough of the bullshit. Fess up,” Ten groaned in your other ear. Meanwhile you were thinking of ways to remove yourself from the Jaehyun-Ten you were between. “Something happened between you and Johnny. Something good.”

It wasn’t a question. He was saying that something happened and he knew it - he just didn’t know what. Yet.

You bit your lip. “Why do you say that?”

“Johnny’s been doing better lately, too. He’s been smiling more and in a better mood recently,” Ten replied, a spark of something raw and tender in his voice. “I like seeing him this way. It feels like I got the old Johnny back.”

Jaehyun nodded, all of the signs of jokes and games gone from his eyes. His expression was nothing short of soulful. “Me, too. There’s clearly been a shift. And whatever happened between you two, I hope it doesn’t shift back. He’s in a good place right now and so are you.”

Johnny had been happier lately. Everywhere he went he stood like a tall beam of light, radiating energy and warmth. And you two technically weren’t even together yet.

There was no way in hell that you would mess that up again. True to your promise to Yuta, you wouldn’t make the same mistake thrice. You had learned from your wrongdoings and decided that you were going to treat Johnny’s heart the same way you wanted others to treat yours. With caution and hypervigilance.

He deserved to be loved. Every bit of him. And you loved him to pieces.

“I won’t mess it up,” you assured them, confident. You knew what you wanted. And though you were still scared to go after it, you were willing to face your fears for Johnny. “I swear.”

Ten and Jaehyun smiled contentedly and replied in sync, “Good.”

Across the house, Johnny was having a similar conversation with your friends. And you were none the wiser.

“Hey, tough guy!” Yeri called out, grabbing Johnny’s attention. If it weren’t for the fact that she had bestowed the nickname upon him ages ago and was hellbent on sticking to her guns, he would have kept walking. She folded her arms across her chest and said, “Let’s talk.”

Johnny flickered his eyes between Yeri and the woman beside her - Irene - and a terrible feeling settled in his chest. Reluctantly, he admitted lightheartedly, “I feel unsafe.”

Both women responded in unison, “Good.”

He brought his plastic cup from his lips, then asked, “What’s this about?”

“You and y/n,” Irene said, eyeing him suspiciously.

Yeri wasted no time. “Are you two dating?”

On cue, Johnny’s heart seemed to boom at the mere thought of being in a relationship with you. As much as he wanted to make you his that night and as terribly as he fought against his every irrational decision, it wasn’t convenient timing. He wanted you to heal before anything.

Johnny feigned indifference, replying honestly, “No, we’re not. Why?”

Irene sat on the couch nearby, glancing off pensively. “She’s been… better again. She told us that she wouldn’t be drinking again for a while and she’s been opening up to me more and I’m proud of her. I just thought that it might’ve had something to do with you. You’re one of the biggest influences in her life, you know?”

“Yeah.” Johnny nodded. “I know.”

“And considering you haven’t given me the side eye yet, I think you’ve been happier, too.”

Johnny chuckled.

Then, Yeri cut to the chase and warned aggressively, “Take care of her, Johnny. I trust you, but you know how she can get. And if you break her heart, so help me I will…”

Irene reached for her friend’s hand and quickly interjected, “Yeri, I think they’re gonna be okay.”

Gladly, Johnny thought so, too. Things were far from perfect, though they were still going well and he was simply content to see that you were giving the two of you a try. He was tired of giving more than he was receiving and he had faith that those days were coming to an end.

“We’re gonna be okay,” Johnny repeated, assuringly. He believed it. He believed in you and him together. “But I appreciate all of your concern.”

Arms still folded and eyes still narrowed, Yeri eased up and nodded. Content, she walked off.

Irene rose from the chair and gazed up at Johnny, whispering softly, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being patient with her,” she replied, full of gratitude. Then - in an even tinier voice - she added, “And for doing what I couldn’t have done.”

Johnny said with no hesitation, “I would do anything for her.”

“I know. You’re strong.”

“So are you.”

Irene smiled. With that, she went to go meet back up with the rest of the girls.

Over the course of the following couple of weeks, you had been putting your all into becoming a better person. You kept to your word, steering clear of alcoholic beverages - more especially in mentally trying times - and you vented to your friends whenever necessary. They didn’t mind one bit. Anything was better than your typical methods of extreme self-destruction.

The passionless hook-ups came to an end, too. Johnny and you had never been exclusive, and though you weren’t yet together, it was impossible to do as much as imagine yourself with another person. Johnny’s touch was the only one that you wanted to feel on your body. You wanted to feel the way he poured his heart out to you whenever you had sex.

You wanted love. You wanted passion and fondness and intimacy.

And Johnny delivered.

After a while, you came to a decision about your father. One day, you chose to answer. In those that followed, you stalled to the best of your ability, still indecisively wavering over the option to meet him in person.

But the conversations, both through text and over the phone, swayed you. It broke you to hear his voice and vice versa. Talking to him for the first time in decades was life-changing.

That was how you ended up outside of a restaurant, fast forward some weeks later.

Johnny helped you out of his car, walking you to the front of the building. Your fingers were interwoven, and he let you clutch his hand when you felt nervous. “Are you sure you wanna do this?”

You nodded. Though you were sure, you were anxious. And you were grateful that he had so much power over you, to the point that his mere touch made you feel at ease again.

“I’m sure,” you said, clinging close to him.

“Breathe, baby,” Johnny whispered, pressing a chaste kiss to your neck. “I’ll be right outside waiting for you. Okay?”

Waiting for you. What would you do without him?

Instead of replying, you whirled around and stood on your tiptoes, kissing his lips. Johnny kissed you back with fervor, holding you like you would fall if he were to let you go.

Through your heavy breaths, both nerve-induced and from the breathlessness of making out with him, you confessed gently, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Johnny replied without hesitation. It was a no-brainer. He loved you. So goddamn much. And that was exactly what you needed to hear. “Now go meet your old man.”

That was the last push you needed. You were standing on the threshold of a self-healing journey and that was what made you swing the gates open.

You approached the table your dad reserved. It must have been miles away, because when you got there, you couldn’t breathe.

Your father looked at you, face full of sincere emotion. He stared at you with so much awe, incredulous through and through. Tears threatened to fall from both of your eyes.

You croaked thickly, “Dad.”

“Princess,” he heaved back.

His arms were wide open and you raced in, desperate. The tears began to rain. You couldn’t even remember the last time that your father had held you. This is what you had been missing. During all those heartbreaking times, this is what you needed most.

Soon, he began to apologize profusely, voice bursting with shame and regret. There was absolutely no satisfactory explanation that he could offer you - you just needed to know that although he couldn’t take it back, he would do whatever it took to earn your forgiveness.

And once you reached closure, you were talking as if the past had never happened and he had always been there.

Your father looked at you and sighed - contentedly. He shook his head, all sullen when he stated, “You’re a woman now.”

You quipped, “And you’re an old man.”

Your father chuckled. He was adapting to your humor very quickly. Perhaps there was a reason why.

After a moment, he asked curiously, “That boy outside your boyfriend?”

“His name’s Johnny,” you smiled, teary-eyed, then confessed, “You should meet him some day.”

“Do you love him?”

There was not a bout of reluctance. “So much.”

“Then, I will.”

You beamed.

There was no holding you back, no reason not to say it proudly anymore. Johnny was yours and you were his. His heart would always belong to you and yours to him. That was the way it was supposed to be. Meant to be.

And some day, your Dad would be walking you down the aisle to the man of your dreams.

[justblades]

⌕ LUSTFUL REQUIEM, 18+

⟢ yandere! blade x afab! reader wc : 1.7k

⟢ cw : fxck buddy! blade, dubcon, cervix kissing, degradation, toxic themes, filming, choking, somnophilia

❝ you're merely a canvas, and his longings are stains— to etch on your skin that you are none other than blade's. ❞

blade is not one to typically fall for eye candies as if it was a part of his everyday routines, no one piques his attention nor does the male has his eyes set on a person. it was not until long once he gets a taste of flavors of lust: commixing together, making a concoction he would never forget, that one day, he decided to yearn for more.

every beginnings are sweet nothings that eventually become bitterly endings - one could draw that conclusion as scenes continue to unfold, blade's grasp on your wrists tightening as he bucks his hips upwards, thrusting into your slit with little to no difficulties.

adorned by your melting features are the weak sighs you let out everytime he slips his cock into you, sweat and drool racing down your dewed skin. "louder." his voice was flat and stern, an intonation that pierces through your wary self. you part your lips wider so more natural moans come out just as the male orders you to, a smirk of satisfaction following suit once his wish is finally fulfilled.

"were you moaning this loud for that asshole earlier?" another question rises from blade's dry throat, dehumanizing queries coming out one by one the longer the session prolonged. you shook your head vigorously and shut your eyes, but blade bucks his hips with more force now, his cock's tip eventually meeting with your cervix. "don't give me that nodding and shaking your head, i only take words for an answer."

his brows tightly knit, frustration seethes out of his gritted teeth. "answer!"

uncertainty fills your heart to the brim as you slowly take a trip down the memory lane, recollecting the events that unraveled earlier that lead to this now-present, once future.

crimson hues seep out of the man's wounds, several of his teeth had fallen out already - his body failed to keep himself stable and the navy haired across him doesn't falter. he only continues. "i can do this all night." blade says with utmost confidence lacing his words, the bandages of his hand come undone, revealing such deep wounds that seemed to have never recover.

ah. you understand a part of blade's destructive behavior now. the reason he's like this was because you slept with another man behind him— "fucking slut. how could you do that to me?" he lets go of your wrists for a short moment, only for them to land back on the silhouette of your waist, cupping the margins to make your body shudder the deeper he pushes in- "come on. rock your hips like how you did as you fucked that loser."

it was only a connection solely established to cope with ephemeral temptations. shortlived feelings yet the hardest to resist is what describes lust best, especially for two beings who feed on nothing but these urges. it was a mutual bond, a shared understanding to not be cuffed by the confinements of this relationship, but blade crossed that fine line like it was a a puny boundary for him.

you should've known from the beginning. you should've been able to discern from the way his glassy eyes scrutinize your appearance everytime he realizes you just got back from the hands of another man. you should've been able to know from the way the words roll out of his tongue when he speaks out of frustration, no rational thoughts behind those lashed out actions.

amidst of all of that - it feels good to be filled to the brim by your fuck buddy's dick. regardless of how he beat the guy you were with into a pulp with no hopes of recovering, here you are, basking in the pleasures intercourse with blade had to offer. it felt gratifying, but it's also heavily contradicting.

the same hands he use to inflict wounds on people who got close to you are the same hands now gradually becoming tender in his touches as he pounds into your velvet walls - blade picks up this little detail, a sneering smile replaces his scowl in an instant. "are you feeling good now?" he leans to your face, the tall bridge of his nose few inches away from yours.

your eyes burn in crystalline reflections, perfectly reflecting blade's image as he presses his lips onto yours, tongues next in action, twisting and twirling altogether— fighting for dominance. "h. . hmm." you hum as a response, much to blade's delight. he quickly breaks it off however, a hoarse chuckle slips out next.

"i've become so whipped for you," blade muses, catching you off guard. he bats his long lashes as he trails your facial features up and down. "i can't bear the thought of anyone else fucking you like this." his dominant hand at present cups your cheek, the thumb finger drawing viscules on the dampened skin. blood rushes into your cheeks as you mewl at how his grip once more tenses, "at last, i can call you mine now." his smile felt rather eerie that you could only return a mere "huh?"

he shifts his gaze elsewhere, a coy smile replaces the eerie one in a blink. "i can't believe my fantasies are finally coming to real life." a crease between your brows forms but the male has your body flipped in 20 machs speed, your back now lays flat on the matress while his cock is nestled in between your lower lips, he rocks his hips forward to make friction, another string of mewl escaping past your mouth.

"but . . but didn't we agree there's no strings attached in this?" the atmosphere grows suffocating, blade's looming presence tripled, leaving no room for you to breathe. a click of tongue then chimes into your ears, "those agreements hold no meaning any longer. i've fallen for you . . and you have too. right?" the airway from your throat proceeds to become scuffed as his two hands wrap around the part, "b-blade i can't b—!"

he reinserts his cock back into your entrance and your cunt gladly accepts his intrusion, clamping around his shape as he continually molds your insides. "say you're mine. say only i have the privilege of relishing you like this."

'blade has gone insane', is what you thought upon hearing those bizarre words of choice. you're starting to fear for your life underneath the contrasting touches of your sexual partner, you had no choice but to fall prey to his temptations. his navy dipped scarlet strands tumble on his shoulders in every thrusts he does, he sports a look you've never seen before: a predatory gaze as he watches your lust ridden body, "i-i'm yours. . i'm all y-yours!" you yelp.

you could only hope he gives you a slack, even just a minute would be nice to indulge without him bombarding you with insults and offensive questions. "finally." he rejoices with another arrogant smile, solferino irises turning inwards at the halfhearted sentence that rang to his ears like sweet tones.

"ride me again." for the nth time, he commands you once more. you could feel all the fatigue gnawing at your bones, unable to register how much energy the mental state can drain oneself. blade sees you struggle and he helps you get into position with the help of his fists on your feet, "no, turn the other way around."

your back faces him while your hands are propped on his sculpted, bandaged thighs. this position out of the dozen ones you've already tried with blade strikes you as the most embarrassing one. your legs continue to tremble as you try to keep yourself up, but only now a late realization dawns in your mind as you get a clear sight of what's placed in front of the cabinet across the bed: a cellphone camera accurately leveled to catch both your bodies in one frame.

"hah, you just saw that now?" he pants as he reinserts his dick back into your entrance, your pussy spasms from being ravaged by his cock. "it'll be for our eyes only. i can never share such intimate moment with others, they're simply undeserving."

you wished that reassurance could've ceased your worries, but it didn't.

"this video will be our proof of love and my proof of property of you. this day marks my ownership of you." he murmurs, his deep voice meshes with the squelching sounds emitted from his cock kissing your pussy, and the jagged breathy mewls. "i'm so delighted all of my hardwork paid off, mmh. . ." low moans continue to bubble from his throat, his fingers sinking deep to your body.

"i don't want to share you anymore."

.

.

.

"those days are long over."

.

.

.

"hmph, are you listening?"

blade ascends from his position only to see your passed out state - he cracks a hoarse chuckle afterwards, seeing your frail figure right in the solace of his arms.

"this is fine. i can still worship your body regardless of your consciousness." he murmurs to himself, readjusting your position laid back again in the soft cushions. he coils his hands around his dick, tightening his grip to merit himself waves of pleasure. "ah, haah, i feel so good." blade's guttural moans bounce off the room's four walls, the male then swiftly rubs his tip on your entrance, and with little force, it slips back in. "i'm happy. i . . i know you are too."

all blade is a filth of sorrow, regrets and sadness. growing up, he never understood the charm of owning something. he'd always watch by the windowsill, a blank expression carved on his face, seeing children around his age gleefully claim what's theirs. perhaps . . his upbringing was molded that way for today. for today, he finally owns something now. something that fills the cup of his heart to the point that it's overflowing - something that could satisfy his perpetual yearning.

it is no doubt he'll never let go of you now— at present, you're nothing but a bird inside of a rotten cage. you're merely a canvas, and his longings are stains— to etch on your skin that you are none other than blade's.

that you're merely a timeless fodder for his everlasting hunger: a hunger to own and a hunger to love. at long last, he finally has one.

"i really love you."

A/N : the upbringing part is just my own and obviously not canon, it's more to expound on how he became a yandere for reader ^^ my masterlist !

[ikamigami]

ABUSE VICTIMS ARE NOT TREATED EQUALLY IN SAMS FANDOM AND IN THE SHOW

(even though I still think that it's intentional on showrunners part so it's not directed at showrunners that much)

I'm so tired of seeing takes of people who talks about how much Lunar and Eclipse's relationship is so complicated and at the same time say that everything is remotely okay with Sun and Moon's relationship.

Sun and Moon are the OG messed up relationship in the show. And yet I still see people who don't realize that. They act like Old Moon's abuse was nothing when at the same time they say that poor Lunar suffered so much from Eclipse. Don't get me wrong Lunar is a victim of abuse but so is Sun!

Sun thiks that he likes toxic people because of his relationship with Old Moon. He's afraid to speak up his mind because of Old Moon. He's scared of loud noises and darkness because of Old Moon. He's touch averssed because of Old Moon. He was afraid for a very long time to talk about his cats because of Old Moon. He doesn't believe in his own smarts because of Old Moon. He thinks that he's only good for cleaning because of Old Moon.

Even if now New Moon is willing to listen, Sun is too scared to say anything because he most definitely thinks that if he'll use the wrong word, Moon will magically start acting like Old Moon.

Sun is so afraid to take any action even if he'd like to because his last attempt to help ended with Old Moon dying.

Some people still brush off all these years of mental, emotional and physical abuse Old Moon inflicted on Sun. While they still hold over Eclipse's head the abuse his previous versions inflicted on Lunar.

Make it make sense!

We're bashing Eclipse for abusing Lunar because he's a villain but we don't care about Old Moon abusing Sun because he's one of the MCs!?

Yeah Old Moon wasn't a 100% evil monster. But yet he did so many amoral things and he was very abusive towards his own brother! But he regretted being like that and tried to be better.

We can say exactly the same thing about Eclipse. I hope that people who defend Old Moon's actions and abuse knows that.

I'm also tired that all of this abuse is just brushed off because "if they could communicate with each other better". How about no? Because don't you see that we can say the exact same thing about Lunar and Eclipse's relationship.

And whose fault do you think it is that there was a lack of communication between Sun and Old Moon?

If your answer isn't Old Moon then I don't know what to tell you.

And I'm so frustrated that people say that Sun is doing so much better when he still couldn't even processed his relationship with Old Moon and he was unable to grieve properly after Old Moon's death.

And I blame New Moon and Earth for this.

Sun needs help but he's continuously ignored by his own family and friends.

Lunar had it better than Sun because Monty arrived with help at the right time. No one did anything like that for Sun.

Sun was continuously blamed for bad things in his relationship with Old Moon by both fans and characters in the show.

Sun still very much suffers consequences of Old Moon's abuse and yet people don't care about it. Because it's not Lunar. The bean who suffered the most.

Screw the people who continuously play trauma olympics and gush over Lunar because he's so traumatised but at the same time ignore Sun's trauma.

[heartlesscorpse]

Pyramid Head thoughts 🩸🔪 △

Catering this to myself and my hornee NEEDS and anybody else’s ig because I’m a dirty boy rn and I have too many thoughts in my head revolving around my man and I need to spill my guts before I lose this precious brain rot. Oh yeah this got some nsfw shit (it’s gonna be like further down) so be sure to read at your risk, and don’t mind the occasional out of context shit bc that’s just my comments and me giggling so hard abt this fine mfer— this was pretty fun to make too ngl, I might do more in the future if I ever get anymore ideas from things or from people, Idk we’ll see.

Pyramid Head’s possessive asf over his s/o, when you’re living inside a hellhole of a town full of monsters and a cult run by a bunch of lunatics, who else is gonna protect your ass none other than this 7’0” deity??? Man wouldn’t even hesitate to kill anybody or anything that came way too close to you.

Man’s not even gonna let you out of his sight for a second, wherever the hell you’re going he’s coming with you, you’re a fragile little thing after all. He doesn’t want anything bad happening to you, not on his watch.

The size diff between you and Pyramid Head is endearing as well as arousing just thinking about how he could manhandle you into any positions he wants and watch you struggle to take him in. You’re just so short compared to him, he finds it cute. <3

It’s fun to carry you around everywhere he goes because of how short you are compared to him. Doesn’t matter if you get a say in this or not, he’s gonna carry you whenever the hell he pleases and he’ll never let go.

Pyramid Head would’ve associated you with the colour white and some times gives you white clothing because you’re pure and the only non-sinner in this shit hole of a town.

Who the fuck needs a bed when you have Pyramid Head??? Hell, he’d probably prefer you to sleep on top of him so he could hold you in your sleep and protect you from all the dangers of Silent Hill. Not to mention he’d like the feeling of how squishy you are in his embrace, particularly your thighs, he likes wrapping his hands on them and squishing them gently in your sleep. Might be a form of comfort saying “I’m here, everything’s okay”, or he’s just admiring them. Who would’ve thought a large monster living on violence and inflicting pain on sinners would be so gentle with you? (Unless you wanted him to roughen you up a little of course then by all means, he’ll fuckin’ do it.) >:))

Because Pyramid Head only exists in Silent Hill and doesn’t know a lot about the outside world, it’s rather adorable watching him get all confused with that head tilt of his whenever you explain certain things to him couples do on a regular basis besides sex, but he does show some curiosity on said topic and possibly willing to do those things with you as well.

Pyramid Head enjoys receiving attention from you, be it either hugs from behind or give him kisses on his helmet or the tongue— anywhere else is prolly gonna give him some other ideas of sorts, rnskfbsjfbw.

OH BOY the fucking dirty brain rot persists. If this man ever happened to be feeling horny he honestly wouldn’t hesitate taking your clothes off in one tear the second he has your consent.

Did I mention abt the size diff last time? Making you take in his cock nice and slow isn’t gonna do much, he’d want you to get over with the pain fairly quick so he’ll just push it in without warning lmao, of course once he’s in, he’ll allow you a brief moment to adjust to his size and once you’re all good he’s going to pound the fucking daylights out of you.

AGAIN WITH THE SIZE DIFF it’s just so satisfying and enjoyable to him watching you writhing and moaning underneath him like that, accounting to that just seeing you stuffed full of his come and utterly blissed out is adorable. (Like man I— let him rail me already PLEASEE)

And he’s for sure going to tease the fuck out of you to overstimulation until your mind is nothing but a puddle of mush and you’re begging for him. <33

Aftercare in the end is amazing, he’ll help clean you up by fucking eating you out with his tongue and then he’ll lay there with you in his arms, with a blanket big enough pulled over top to cover the both of you while you snuggle up in the mean time. A possible guarantee you’re gonna have a blast trying to walk in the morning./j

🥩⋆♱✮♱⋆🔪 🩸

[daytaker]

The Gang's Tumblr Pages

Inspired by this and my own reaction to it.

Lucifer

Perfectly curated, perfectly formatted, and whenever there's a major change to the tumblr format, he simply leaves the website altogether in a huff of peacock feathers.

Lots of HD photography of nature getting reblogged.

Has an extremely complicated and specific list of tags he uses for every single post.

He only reblogs text posts that are sufficiently visually appealing. Very few meet his high standards.

You could look through his entire blog and not learn one single thing about him except that he's a perfectionist to the point of neurosis.

He has a lot of professional art blogs following him.

Mammon

Oversharing oversharing oversharing!!!!

He regularly gets himself in trouble by shouting about the shit he's done into the void of the internet.

Tried to have a tagging system but forgets about 7/10 times.

Reblogs himself all the time to say "AND ANOTHER THING!!!"

He hates looking at the actual blog pages. The text is always so tiny and some of them start playing music and changing his mouse into a weird shape? No thank you.

He has very few followers and he doesn't really care. Who goes on tumblr for the social element? Weirdos, that's who.

He's insanely easy to troll with anonymous asks. Everyone has done it. Even Lucifer, though he wouldn't admit it.

Some of his best asks:

"did u just post that you're okay with the idea of ponies and unicorns breeding. like no shade on that conceptually but why."

"If you reblog another 'reblog this for good luck' post, I will personally break down your door and steal your skin."

"ur ugly" "yeah-huh" "ugly" "no i won't 'come off anon and fight u' whhy don't you come ON anon and fight me?" "'i don't know how' sounds like something a chicken would say"

Leviathan

He just makes a blog like one of us. Fandom stuff.

Except he's multifandom to the extreme. It's impossible to keep track of his interests because he always has so many simultaneously.

He has the most followers of the brothers just because he gets so deep into so many fandoms that they come rolling in.

He has blocked all of his brothers except for the twins. They're okay.

His blog is a chaotic mess but there is order within the madness. He has a masterpost of tags that explains everything if you care to look at it. (I don't recommend it.)

Satan

It feels stupid to even put this in writing but...cat pics. Endless cat pics. That's like 90% of his blog.

The other 10% is a mixture of book recommendations and analysis, Lucifer shade, and a comprehensive, ever-expanding list of shit Lucifer has done to make Satan angry. It's a very long list. It's organized by theme.

"Lucifer inflicts unjust punishments." "Lucifer makes unnecessary snide remarks." "Lucifer simping for Diavolo and MC (pathetic)."

His blog itself is very minimalist and clean.

He's another fastidious tagger. He tags the cat pics by color, breed, age, number of cats, setting...

Asmodeus

He's not very into tumblr. It's like Devilgram but more complicated and less popular.

Sometimes he'll post or reblog 'aesthetic' things. Moodboards and the like.

In general though, he doesn't really 'get' tumblr.

People don't post selfies very often. Weird.

Beelzebub

Food blog.

Just food.

Reblogging hot dogs.

Reblogging nachos.

Reblogging ice cream.

Nothing else. Ever.

Belphegor

"This minimalist Tumblr has no posts."

No posts.

Default profile picture.

Sometimes he'll like something.

Usually he just looks at it.

Diavolo

There is no order. Only chaos.

He hardly ever uses it, then he'll come online and reblog a million things that have nothing to do with each other. Then he'll go silent again.

He has no tagging system.

He has no custom theme.

He is very friendly to all anonymous askers though.

Barbatos

Barbatos would never have a tumblr. Don't be ridiculous.

Solomon

He only posts very rarely. He prefers to lurk.

When he does post, it's something weird as fuck, like reblogging statistics about owl pellet contents.

He likes to keep people on their toes.

Simeon

Reblogging inspirational quotes, pictures of nature, and general positivity.

That is, once he figures out how the website works.

That takes a really long time.

What is a queue? What are tags? Why is it called a "reblog"? How does he track activity? How does he navigate the homepage? Why does it post things in such a strange order? What is a "Blaze"? What is a draft? Custom URL? Custom Theme? Sideblogs? Mass Post Editor?

Someone please help him.

Solomon probably does that.

Luke

Baking.

He uses tumblr for recipes and images of baked goods.

But tumblr isn't even the best place to go for that, so he isn't on very often.

He sometimes likes Simeon's posts, just as a show of support since he knows how hard Simeon works to post anything anywhere.

[d0youc0py]

Hi 👋🏻 May I request a piece for Simon reacting to reader's scars which are pretty bad ? (could be from abuse,or from torture from being captured or self inflicted) scars he never saw before cause reader always hit them, and maybe Simon opens up about his as well as a way to comfort them?

Sorry if you are not comfortable with this... Have a great day!

“Ow…ow….ow…ow.”

“Toughen up.” Ghost growled.

“My arm doesn’t bend that way Lieu.” You yelped.

“That’s the point.” He snipped. “Showin’ you how to break someone’s arm.” For emphasis he bent your arm back a little more a loud pop ringing through the training room. It didn’t hurt but you instinctively said ‘ow’ causing another annoyed sigh to leave the bulky man. “Now you try on me.” He demanded flopping down on his stomach. You went to grab his arm and he quickly snatched it away. You tried again. He pulled away from you.

“What are you doing?”

“You didn’t think I was gonna make it easy, did ya?”

“I had my hopes up.” You groaned out. You tried again- this time putting in twice the effort. He grabbed you by the front of your shirt and flipped you down on the mat. The little action causing your shirt to ride up- revealing the one thing you tried your hardest to hide. You had scars almost everywhere, but the really nasty ones were on your stomach. His balaclava did nothing to hide his widened eyes. You pulled away and he quickly let go. “I’m sorry.” You whispered.

“For what?” Ghost asked quickly.

“You had to see those.” Your cheeks were bright red. You had a feeling this was something that was going to make you cry whenever you woke up at two in the morning and thought about.

“I didn’t see anything.” He lied. He could tell you were uncomfortable and didn’t want to add on to it.

He thought less of you. You just knew it. He didn’t even need to know how you got them- he thought you were weak.

“I didn’t take you for the lying type Lieu.” You mumbled. You scooted your knees close to your chest.

“I’m not.” He sighed. He sat down across from you, stretching his legs out so you were between them. He knows he doesn’t show it well but he’s always had a soft spot for you. He couldn’t help it. Something about you made him feel nice. Seeing your scars were just icing on the cake. He could relate to wanting to cover up the ‘bad’ bits of yourself. Although to him your only bad bits were your constant complaining during sparring- and during missions- and when it’s hot out- and when it’s too cold- and when you’re hungry- and when you didn’t sleep good- and- well you get the idea. All of this led up to what he was about to do now.

He took a deep breath causing you to look up at him. He gripped the edges of his balaclava slowly pulling it away from his face.

Of course he was gorgeous.

He wasn’t perfect.

But my god is he gorgeous.

You suddenly realized why he had done it. A deep scar starting at his cheekbone going all the way down to his jaw. Another one going over his eye. You had noticed one of his eyes seemed to open more than the other, but you didn’t see the scar till now. You reached your hand out and he didn’t pull away. Your pointer finger traced gently over his cheek. You waited for him to smack your hand away, but instead he closed his eyes letting you take your time.

You wondered how many people had the honor of doing this. The way his face heated up made you think very few- if any. Once you were done you rested your hand back in your lap. He opened his eyes.

“You saw my scars?” He asked.

You nodded your head.

“Do you think I’m ugly?” He questioned. Cocky bastard. He knew you wouldn’t say no.

“If this is your way of asking me if I like you Lieu, you’re going about it all wrong.”

He laughed. A rare, but genuinely lovely sound to hear.

“No, I don’t think you’re ugly.” You affirmed. He nodded his head, almost like he was agreeing with you.

“Scars don’t make you ugly, kid. A shit personality does.”

“Are you saying I have a bad personality?” You gasped.

“Fucking Hell, we’re gonna be here all night.” Simon groaned, wiping a hand across his forehead. “I think you know what I mean.” He pressed. You smiled at him.

“You’re not the only one who digs for complements Lieu.” You snickered. He smiled and you had to stop yourself from poking the dimple in his right cheek.

“Lieu?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

Thank you for your request! I decide to leave the story behind the scars out to make it more applicable. Hope that’s okay!

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

(Genshin Impact) Navia, Yae, Lisa, Furina, Lumine, Hu Tao, Xinyan, and Shenhe's S/O getting scared by a story

No one requested this, I just wanted to write this scenario after rewatching Marble Hornets and I am TERRIFIED of closing my eyes now. I also feel incredibly old mentioning Marble Hornets. Did you know that web series is almost 15 years old now?

Navia has watched many theatre productions, but nothing regarding horror.

She personally isn't affected and finds them entertaining! (Because she's already dealing with the horrors of her normal life)

Her S/O on the other hand...

(Navia) "Archons, S/O! You're shaking! Was the story that scary?"

(S/O) "N-No I'm not...!"

Navia honestly can't help but laugh, not at S/O's terror, but just how cute they looked!

Plus, it made them sleep even closer to her, so no complaints are gonna be made!

Navia wraps her arms around S/O tightly.

(Navia) "Don't worry, S/O! I'm sure my gun can stop whatever tries to grab you in the night!"

(S/O) "I told you I'm not afraid! P-Plus, I don't think guns can stop a ghost- Wait, why are you making it sound like something will come?!"

(Navia) "I'm just saying for them to hear!"

S/O rolled their eyes as Navia laughed at their reaction.

Navia finds the whole situation makes S/O even more adorable in her eyes.

(Yae) "My goodness, S/O. If you had a tail, it'd be shooting straight up right now."

Yae didn't realize that S/O would be that affected by a simple scary story.

She could hear their heart racing as they tried to battle mentally that there were no such things as ghosts and whatnot.

Yae is half tempted to tell them what's around Inazuma, but figured that S/O doesn't need to die of a heart attack.

Not when she can inflict that herself.

(Yae) "Well if you are so brave, would you like to stay overnight by yourself at the Shrine? I am told you can see many things-"

(S/O) "P-PLEASE DON'T!"

Yae's hand covers her mouth as her eyes close from laughter.

(Yae) "I jest, little one. I am not that cruel."

(S/O) "Ugh, I knew you were just gonna tease me about this..."

(Yae) "Rest assured I will not frighten you anymore than I am right now...More than likely anyway."

Surprisingly, Yae does have them close to her whenever they are in private, holding them and making sure they're comfortable.

It takes every fiber in her being not to startle them and hear S/O yelp.

The things one does for love, but it'd also be really funny.

At that point it's a 50/50 whether Yae would terrorize or comfort S/O.

Horror wasn't a genre Lisa normally reads in the Library, but she does see the appeal of why people liked it.

S/O on the other hand despised the story they read.

Not that it was terribly written. Evidently it was too well written, since S/O was sleeping with candles lit in their bedroom.

(Lisa) "Dear if you're so scared, why did you read it?"

(S/O) "W-Well, I...thought I'd look braver if I finished it."

Lisa giggled and held their hands.

(Lisa) "It certainly is making you cuter.~"

Out of curiousity, she did start reading the book they had picked up whenever they were in bed together.

She could see S/O's eyes widen at the book and trying to refocus their attention away.

Meanwhile, Lisa was analyzing the book and seeing what had gotten them so scared.

(Lisa) "Is it because the story is supernatural, S/O?"

(S/O) "I mean, you can fight monsters! What do you do against a teleporting entity?!"

Lisa chuckled at their panic, and made sure to have one arm holding them.

When they were sleeping, S/O held onto Lisa for dear life.

Something she had no problem with. Maybe she should get them to read scary stories more often.

(Furina) "Aaaaw, are you scared, S/O?"

Furina teased, making S/O pout.

(S/O) "I-It creeped me out a lot, alright?! Just don't rub it in my face."

(Furina) "Come now, S/O! I will not take lightly of your mental affliction from this story! In fact, I will read it tonight and show you that you have nothing to fear!"

ONE SCARY STORY LATER

Furina and S/O sat quietly on the bed, with an aquatic familliar emitting a bright light nd illuminating the room.

Even though it was time for bed.

(Furina) "..."

(S/O) "...It freaked you out too, didn't it?"

(Furina) "D-Do not be absurd! I simply just think that the room was too dark-"

The door suddenly creaked open, which made the two of them immediately hold each other in absolute terror.

(Furina) "H-Hey, S/O! Um...I think tonight is an amazing time to become closer as lovers by never letting go, do you not agree?"

(S/O) "Y-YUP!"

The two of them shivered the corner of their bed, essentially sleeping with one eye open, and a gaggle of hydro familiars guarding the door all night.

They could not sleep properly for nearly a week, but it did bring them closer.

In which that they did not leave each other alone for a single second the moment the lights when off due to being scared out their minds.

(Lumine) "I didn't know you liked scary stories, S/O."

(S/O) "I don't..."

Lumine raised an eyebrow at the book, then put it down on the bedroom drawer.

(Lumine) "So, why did you read it?"

(S/O) "I thought it'd be interesting to talk with you about a story! I know you've always told me about your adventures and...I wanted to tell you a story."

Lumine's heart melted, bringing in S/O for a kiss on the cheek.

(Lumine) "I appreciate it S/O. Anyways, what's it about?"

S/O gained a confidence boost after the kiss and began telling her what the story entailed.

Only to watch their reaction drain as they explained it, recalling the bits of horror and Lumine being able to tell what part exactly terrified them.

(Lumine) "Hah, I think that's enough S/O. Honestly, it's kind of freaking me out too-"

(Paimon) "Yeah, now's not the time for-"

(S/O) "AWUAAAGH!?"

S/O leapt from the side of their bed and into Lumine's arms after Paimon had suddenly appeared.

(Lumine) "WOAH!"

(Paimon) "ACK! S/O, it's just Paimon!"

(S/O) "D-DON'T DO THAT WHEN WE'RE TALKING ABOUT GHOSTS!"

(Lumine) "Huh...I guess Paimon is like one-"

(Paimon) "Paimon is very much alive!"

Lumine lovingly held S/O close to her chest, ensuring that they were safe.

She was the traveler, and she could take on ghosts!

Lumine did have to leave out the fact she actually fought ghosts in Tevyat, however.

Especially Tsurumi Island. Her entire adventure there would probably convince S/O to never leave the teapot ever again and stay glued to Tubby 24/7.

Hu Tao, being the gremlin she is, would love to scare S/O further.

(Hu Tao) "You're afraid of ghosts? I can introduce you to a few and dispel that notion!"

(S/O) "H-HU TAO, I SWEAR TO THE ARCHONS, I WILL-"

(Hu Tao) "Woah, woah, woah! No need to be like that! They just want to socialize!"

She absolutely loves seeing them trembling whenever she mentions the story. It was both cute and extremely amusing.

They tried to hide the fact that they were scared from her, but S/O was a terrible liar.

And Hu Tao wants to kick it into overdrive by cosplaying the monster that scared them.

But she was also sure that would result in her getting dumped, both figuratively and literally into the Harbor by S/O.

Shockingly, Hu Tao does employ self restraint if she recognizes that S/O was getting genuinely distressed by her pranks regarding the story.

Instead, she'll have to sadly deal with the very comfy and tight cuddles S/O gives to feel better.

How tragic.

(Xinyan) "You're scared a by a story, S/O? Sheesh, the heck was in that thing?"

Xinyan is a bit confused on how someone could get that terrified by a book.

But whatever, she can't judge.

Most people were afraid of her simply looking at them.

(Xinyan) "Hey, S/O! C'mere a sec! I got a nice song that'll blast all those scary thoughts away!"

Xinyan distracts S/O by playing her songs and just being in their vicinity more than normal.

Something she could tell they appreciated as they calmed down, especially in the dark.

Her hand grips around their arms strongly, giving them a reminder that she ain't afraid of no ghost!

And especially since it meant extra cuddles, Xinyan was willing to indulge them.

(S/O) "I hope this isn't too ridiculous, Xinyan-"

(XInyan) "Nonsense, S/O! This ain't that big'a deal. Besides I...think it's a bit cute."

(S/O) "What was that last part?"

(Xinyan) "A-Ah, don't worry 'bout it!"

Shenhe didn't like seeing S/O be afraid, regardless of the source.

Her focus becomes razor sharp and thinks S/O is being frightened by an actual ghost.

Upon realizing ghost-murder was not needed, Shenhe instead has S/O with her at all times.

(Shenhe) "If I may ask, why are you so afraid of a fictional story?"

(S/O) "It's...kind of hard to explain. Just the concepts in there terrify me..."

(Shenhe) "I do not fully get it, but I will do my best to make you not scared anymore."

While it is unfortunate S/O feels unease, it does bring her great comfort that S/O finds her mere presence comforting enough to not be afraid.

Maybe it was because she can perform exorcist arts, or because she was their lover.

Regardless of the reason, Shenhe will not falter for a single moment, always on alert for S/O's mood.

She seemed to distract them well, one of her methods proving highly effective, which was hugging them tightly.

That seemed to do the job everytime as she felt them relax into her hold.

Part of her wished it was an actual ghost so she could make them pay for making her S/O feel so scared.

If she could murder a ghost, she would.

[malleusfucker]

malleus draconia yandere headcanons

warnings: smut/nsfw, yandere (if it wasn’t obvious), ANGST, size kink, possessiveness/toxic relationship, marking/bruising/choking, malleus is evil in this im sorry, this is more angst than smut so i don’t recommend if you want hardcore stuff lol, gender-neutral reader

word count: 1.2k

malleus is the worst kind of yandere.

with that calm and collected front lies an extremely possessive and toxic underbelly, patiently waiting for its chance to explode. what makes malleus so horrifying is that you wouldn't imagine such a kind and considerate person could conceal such a diametrically opposed side to them. before it unfolds, you could never know. much like a predator luring its prey, he makes you believe the relationship you've stepped into is a mirage. and it was, at least temporarily. he’s so sweet to you; truly the definition of chivalrous. kissing you so sweetly, holding your hand as you fall asleep together —it really was a dream. and malleus seeing you think so would only make those cogs in his head turn faster, the clock ticking quicker and quicker each time you say how much you love him.

you can’t really fault malleus for loving you so much. living a life so lonely and secluded, it would only make sense that he has a warped perception of what love and affection are, right? that cloud over his head only gets darker as he looks into your eyes, each day assuring him that you’re the one for him. you’re his and no one else’s. 

~

he didn’t mean for such a thing to happen. thinking you were just another human, it would only deepen his love for you when he finds out how much you unapologetically love him. seeing you sleeping so peacefully in his bed, he can’t help but wish you would stay there and never leave. with each drag and thrust of his cock, the pitiful tears you shed under him would only serve to widen the horrific grin plastered across his face. he adores how tiny you are in comparison to him, with his long fingers wrapping around your neck almost too effortlessly; he believes you were practically made for him. he’d gently squeeze—hearing your delicate and frail wheezes as you helplessly flail your arms in an attempt to flee his grip always floods him with ecstasy. 

you were so innocent before you met malleus, with your gaze now constantly blackened by the lust he continuously pumps into you. now that he’s finally gotten you into the state he’s always sought, there would be no point for you to leave now, would there? in fact, what’s the point of you knowing other people? they’ll only be there to hurt you, and malleus would never even think to do that to you. he’s there to protect you from all the harm and evil in the world, so why don’t you stay in his room a little longer? those voices outside calling to you will die down eventually, leaving you abandoned and lonely. but that’s precisely why malleus is here for you. he will always satisfy any void you may feel within, replacing it with nothing but addiction and love until you can’t even realise how far your mind has eventually gone.

everything malleus does for you is all out of love. every spit, every scratch, every bite—he’s only doing it for your own good. any bruise you bear is a reminder of the one person who loves you more than anybody else in the world, and the brutality with which they’re inflicted is entirely worth it. you have no grounds for complaint. allowing a monster like him into your life, it’s your fault that your mind begins to wonder if malleus actually was that angel you always thought he was. you’re the one to blame for every tear that rolls down your swollen cheeks, gripping the sheets as he continuously spills his poison inside of you. a hand wringing your neck, numbing your senses one by one, the thrusts of his hips feeling as if his cock was delving deeper and deeper inside you.

~

the days start to blend together. you wait obediently for malleus to finish his work, not even knowing what day of the week it is. once-familiar names and faces are now just a fog that will soon clear, and your eyes are growing worn and weary. he gently strokes your hair, that soft touch being something only malleus can give you so willingly. you treat him so well. always patiently sitting in the corner of his room—or if he’s feeling particularly generous, he’ll have you seated in his lap whilst he continues his work. a firm hand, light as air, caresses your waist and inner thighs, teasing you with each passing moment. minutes of stillness, like this one, where you can feel his breath on your neck and his hair tickling your skin from his continued caressing, only serve to further cloud your vision. after enduring so much crying and screaming, you come to value these occasional instances of quiet. letting your thoughts relax for a little before he continues on with his plan to ruin you thoroughly.

however, this sweetness would be fleeting at best. don’t even think about stepping out of line and defying the one who loves you most. when he sees you trying to escape beyond the castle walls, it breaks his heart. he knows he'll have to keep punishing you until you're completely shaped and chiselled into what he considers to be perfection. an obedient, devoted companion. really, that's all malleus wants. but you continue to defy him anyhow. despite his lavish gifts to you—a castle, his undying love and affection—you still feel entitled to freedom, which begs the question: why? why do you still need such a thing when you have malleus? your mind appears to be growing fickle by the day. wanting to have your freedom, yet every time he’s inside you with your slutty moans echoing back at you from the large stone walls that encase you, it's as if those ludicrous ideas suddenly erase themselves. 

you almost appear to want malleus to punish you deliberately. a cruel game of cat-and-mouse in which you crawl back to the very thing that's slowly killing you. his eyes wander over your body as he conjures yet another cruel way to discipline you. what would it take for you to finally get it? no love, not even your own, will remain in your heart after being emptied out by what will ultimately destroy you. malleus didn't mean to treat you like this. if only you had listened, maybe none of this would have happened. and yet, despite everything, why does he seem to take such pleasure in seeing your lifeless eyes reflected in his own? his tongue deep down in your throat as he once again squeezes out what little sanity you have left. your body now becoming something he merely owns, with your thoughts and voice all belonging to him. now only being able to mutter nothing but his name, it seems you’ve finally learned your lesson.

but worry not. there's no point in crying now that malleus has you the way he always desired. those marks and bruises, your quaking body, are all signs of his love that nobody but the two of you can see. really, you should be rather grateful. despite everything you've put malleus through, he still finds it in his heart to love you unconditionally. because, ultimately, you have only yourself to blame for welcoming such a monster into your life.

[rthko]

Hey, I remember reading a while ago a post or two of yours about the word faggot, specifically as almost a third/"failed" gender. I've come to identify with the word a lot myself as I've figured out my sexuality and gender, so I was wondering if you had any further reading on the word and its history and reclamation that I could look into? Thanks!

First, I'm glad this post resonated with you! I unfortunately can't help much with the etymology or history of the term itself, but maybe I can help with the concept I use it to represent. It has been an ongoing project of mine to articulate, if nothing else to myself, the specificities of gayness. "Gay" refers to too wide a range of experiences to really be specific, but I am referring to those of us for whom "gay" refers not to the mere fact of our desires but what distinguishes us in a gestural and cultural level from other men. In effect, a gender in its own right. When writing that post I opted for "faggot," because what I wanted to described referred not just to male homosexuality but the experience of having chance or the expectation to live as men and symbolically or literally rejecting it.

I have a lot to say but I'll try to keep it brief. When I have articulated something like this in the past, some people have commended it saying that there's a lot of writing on lesbian as a gender but not the same for gays. This is not entirely true. Karl Heinrichs Ulrichs was the first to write of and identify with homosexuality as an essential characteristic, but this version of homosexuality was the urning, or "woman enclosed in the body of a man." We would recognize this today as trans womanhood, although there is great writing by trans women challenging the "wrong body" framing. This concept came to be known as inversion, which sexologists co-signed often in good faith but to predictably unhelpful ends. This concept is understandably obsolete because of its essentialism, the proliferation of trans theory, and of course the offense it poses to gay men. But as someone who has always self-identified and been externally considered at the fringes of manhood, I took a strange comfort in it. To know that gay men and trans women were grouped together in this uneasy alliance goes against ahistorical notions that transgenderism is an unwelcome intrusion into queerness.

So I guess the text I was looking for was The Faggots and their Friends Between the Revolutions by Larry Mitchell, 1977. People recommended me that book after my post, and I was stunned by its resonance. Mitchell waxes lyrical about the faggots, their allies the women, and their adversaries the men. His description of the faggot's identify formation is as follows:

The faggots once called themselves the men who love men. But they discovered that they did not love men, they loved only other men who loved men which was not that many of them. The men who hate others were false and death-inflicting and obsessed with being strangers. The men who hate others hate the men who love men. And this hatred is so strong that it turns the men who love men into the faggots.

Notice it does not use the logic of inversion or make any pretense of the faggots being women. Yet it does locate the point at which "faggots" detach from "men" and recognizes them as different categories. The post-stonewall pre-AIDS period in which this book was written produced a lot of "proto-nonbinary" identities, like faeries and queens. It's hard to determine by 21st century standards who in the mix counts as trans and who doesn't.

When I tried to articulate in more personal terms what this gray area means to me today, a lot of people found it resonant but a lot of people found it offensive. I felt like I owed apology to those who felt aggrieved, but the problem was that half considered it offensive that I considered myself related to transness in any way and the other half considered it offensive that I still described myself as cis. I was either a cis man who refused to check his privilege or a self hating non-binary person who just needed to come out already. I maintain that whatever you want to call me or what I want to call myself, there are material distinctions between me and most trans people that can't be ignored. And I think what keeps me from making the jump is that to introduce myself as nonbinary would make people tiptoe around language in a way I don't personally feel is necessary, but gayness has its own methods that work for me. I like the way we careen promiscuously between gendered scripts and signifiers, and the camp sensibility that refuses to take itself too seriously. I am also hesitant to describe myself as what Lyft would call "Women+."

This is a long post by Tumblr standards but if I were to really say everything I want to say Tumblr would not be the medium for it. But if you're looking for something to read on the subject, I recommend Larry Mitchell of course, Susan Sontag's Notes on Camp, Judith Butler's Gender Trouble (but just skip to part three and the conclusion honestly), Cruising Utopia by José Esteban Muñoz in part for his analysis of gesture in queer of color dance, and The Queer Art of Failure by J Halberstam that further elaborates on Muñoz's writings on failure and adds a butch perspective. Currently I am reading Male Subjectivity at the Margins by Kaja Silverman, which is a little psychoanalytic for my taste but offers a fascinating re-evaluation of inversion theory without endorsing it.

Despite all the effort I put into this post it will not be rebloggable sorry. 🤐

[trensu]

Have a snippet from that one holy warrior au. thanks to @ent-is-indecisive for helping me come up with a title for this fic. i'll be tagging it as stasis in darkness for easy tracking. this is part of a rough draft so it probably will be modified by the time i finish the damn thing and make it ao3 ready. but my brain's kind of stuck and needs a kickstart to get it going again, so i thought i'd share it and hopefully get motivated again

It happened again.

–

The fourth night:

“Isn't it true the King of Darkness–”

“Lord of Night.”

“Yeah, him. He controls all the monsters in the dark and sets them on innocent people for fun. Don’t see why you’d want to throw your lot in with a god like that.”

“Because he doesn’t. He takes care of nighttime animals. Bats, coyotes, owls…”

“The scary ones, you mean.”

“No! Besides, he takes care of cats, too. Cats aren’t scary. They’re, you know, cute.”

“Hmm. If you say so.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? You got something against cats?”

“Of course not!" The man said, sounding mildly offended. Steve opened his mouth to go on about the Lord of Night's chosen creatures but the man interrupted with, "Well, look at the time! Later, gator.”

The man ran off with a grin not sparing him a second glance. Steve stared after him, baffled.

“What the fuck’s a gator?”

–

The fifth night:

“Don't you know your King, excuse me, Lord of Darkness–”

“Night. Lord of Night.”

“Same thing. He helps criminals evade justice. Pretty sure that one’s true.” The man lounged lazily on a nearby boulder as he asked. Kind of like a cat, Steve noticed with a trace of amusement that was easily smothered by annoyance at the man's…everything else.

“He helps people who travel by night. Most of the time they’re just night workers or people with nowhere to go. The ones that are shunned for being different or the ones too poor to afford safe shelter.”

“Huh. Alright, explain the horse thief thing, then, if he’s so good and noble.”

“...fine, he’s got a soft spot for horse thieves but thievery isn’t that bad of a crime in the grand scheme of things.”

“Ha! Sure,” the man conceded. “But! You can’t deny that this Lord of Night cursed people with terrible nightmares that left them sleepless and suffering for days. To the brink of lunacy, some say.”

The man said it with triumph, as if with this he’d finally break Steve’s faith. Steve shrugged. 

“All gods get angry.”

“And that’s okay? You’re fine with him inflicting mind torture on some poor mortal just because he threw a tantrum?”

“First off, he wouldn’t just throw a tantrum," Steve said with exasperation. He might end up throwing a tantrum if this guy persisted. "I don’t think he’s the kind to get angry easily. And second, the people he cursed before always deserved it. Besides, he helps with good dreams, too. It’s not all bad.”

“Uh-huh, I totally believe you," the man said, heavy with mockery.

“Look man, if you’re so against the Lord of Night, why are you still here? Why do you keep coming back and bothering me?”

“...curiosity?”

“Well, be curious quietly. I need to pray.”

“...he probably doesn’t even have prayers.”

“I said shut up, man. I need to concentrate.”

The man leaves without any more fuss. 

–

The sixth night:

“You have a lot of faith in a god who lost his own name. Does he even have any holy texts left?”

“Dustin could only find one, but that was enough.”

“Really? Other gods have entire libraries of stories and whole tomes of holy words. They have temples and monasteries all across the land of mortals.” The man motioned derisively at the crumbling statue. "This thing here is barely a shrine!"

“Hey, I'm working on that, alright? It's going to look great when I'm done with it," Steve protested. "And so what if he doesn't have more? Robin says quantity’s got nothing to do with quality.”

“Yeah, but the other gods are remembered for a reason. That counts for something,” the man's voice lost some of that smug edge. He fiddled with the hem of his fraying shirt as he spoke. 

Steve refused to rise to the bait. He responded calmly, but firmly.

“I don’t need libraries to know I want to carry his symbol. From what Robin and Dustin found, he represents all the things my friends taught me were important.” Steve pauses. "I’m not a good reader anyway so less books are better for me.” 

"Oh, so that's why you picked him! Very convenient," The man sounded very amused. Steve ignored him until he heard the man wander away for the night. He sighed in relief.

With a surge of restless energy leftover from being very good and calm about that nuisance of a man, Steve approached the statue elevated on its crumbling plinth. He reached up towards its open hand held at its side, barely within reach, and brushed his fingers along the worn knuckles. 

"That guy's wrong about you, I know he is,” Steve whispered, fervently. “You deserve a temple. A hundred of them, all for your own."

Steve thought, for a moment, he heard a sharp intake of breath, but when he looked there was no one but him around. 

“I’ll make sure you get a great temple."

He waited, strained his ears for even a single word from his god. He tried not to be disappointed when he heard nothing. Again.

–

ps: i do not do those reader tag list things. if you’d like to keep up with my stuff, follow my writing tag: trensu tells stories

[igncrxntripley]

HEYY GIRL IM BACK

okayy i feel so goofy asking for specific smuts BUT can it just start out as a regular match after a breakup ( reader & rhea arent on good terms rn ) and they work things out towards the end? like they admit that theyve both been thinking about eachother all the time & stuff. regular smut & switch rhea & reader pleasee

ty for replying so fast 🙏 my rhea obsession is an emergency

forgiveness

a/n: two posts in one day...i'm wild

mentions: NSFW 18+, smut, fighting/volatile relationships, heated makeouts, grinding/scissoring, touching, fem!reader, switch!reader, switch!rhea, slight break of kayfabe (use of rhea's real name), minor descriptions of in-ring violence

taglist: @thesithdiaries @cassiesgreta @roseheartsworld @theworldofotps @babybatlover @ripleyswhore @auburnwrites​ @obl1vionblackhart​ @emogoblin-666​ @hereliespumpkin​ @blxxdshxteyes @neptune-lover​ @bunnysmyname​ @i-have-issues-lol @ares-athena​ @thatonepansexual2000​ @witcherfromwallachia

work used to be your safe place. you could go and be with your friends, meet amazing fans, and do what you loved every single day. who wouldn't want that for themselves?

that all changed, though, when you and demi broke things off. the two of you loved one another but the stress of your jobs and constantly being on the road took its toll. the rare times where you and demi got to see one another were spent screaming and fighting, and the last time you spoke to one another was the day she stormed out of the house with her bags and called it quits. you never thought you'd be so happy but so sad to see the woman you love leave, but since then nothing had been the same.

you didn't even see how badly demi was struggling with it either. every night she wanted to pick up the phone and call you; she wanted to apologize, pretend like nothing happened and move on with you. but how could she after saying the things she said? after storming out of the house rather than talking through your issues like a regular couple? both of you had fucked up numerous times during your relationship, but demi still hadn't forgiven herself for what she'd done.

the best part? both of you had to go to work like nothing was wrong. every week on the road, it never failed that you saw one another backstage. you always hoped with how many people were backstage at a time that you could avoid her, but with your luck that wasn't going to happen.

the cherry on top of it all? you had a match against her. yep, you and your ex - in a ring together, for twenty minutes at least, needing to practically be on top of one another.

your life was an actual fucking joke at this point.

from the moment you walked out into the ring from gorilla and saw rhea standing there, you felt nauseous. practically everyone in the audience knew about what had happened and they just kept staring at the both of you. but you kept up your character to the best of your ability, doing what you needed to do to get through this nightmare of a match you were about to have.

it almost felt...wrong. to have your hands on demi in any way shape or form. sure, this was rhea ripley and not demi. you were both in character. you were putting on the personas that the audiences were familiar with. but as you and demi grappled on the mat and inflicted physical pain on one another, it continued to bring up all of those unresolved feelings.

each hit, slap, kick, tug of the hair...it was an accessory to the words you'd spat at each other in your arguments over the last few months. not only that, but rhea ripley was known for tormenting her opponents. she wasn't above getting in their face and giving them a piece of her mind; and you best believe she did the same thing with you.

at one point, demi was straddling you in the ring. both of you breathless with exhaustion, you absolutely a mess both physically and emotionally, and rhea was clearly in her feelings about everything as well. the last straw, though, was when she leaned in closer to your face and said her first words to you since breaking things off.

"you're nothing to me. and you'll never be anything to me."

you saw red the moment she said that to you. whether she said it in character or meant it, you didn't care; she knew what she was doing by saying it. it was like the crowd and the cameras disappeared, and the absolute rage in your body overpowered everything else and you unleashed hell on her. that anger gave you the opportunity to end the match and deliver a finisher, and while normally winning felt amazing...this felt like garbage.

--- ---

alone time in your dressing room gave you way too much time to think about everything that had gone on the ring. you couldn't erase the look on demi's face as she stood over you...the sound of her voice telling you that you meant nothing to her when you'd given so much of yourself to her during your relationship. but apparently you meant nothing? you could barely comprehend it.

a knock at the slightly open door brought you out of your thoughts, but the sight of demi changed out of her ring gear and freshly showered sobered you up real fast. "don't even think about coming in here and talking to me after the shit you pulled out there." you mumbled, already standing up and looking to make your escape.

demi blocked the doorway and closed the door, a gentle look on her face replacing the one riddled with intimidation and anger from earlier in the night. "i just want to talk to you." she said softly. "i know you're pissed, because i would be too. but i just need to talk."

you hesitated, but eventually you gave a small nod and sat back down on the couch. "start talking, then." you mumbled, watching as demi took her spot on the coffee table in front of you.

she ran a nervous hand through her hair and let out a shaky breath before she finally managed to talk to you. "i didn't mean what i said out there." she said softly. "i...i didn't mean any of the horrible things i ever said to you."

you wanted to believe demi, but how could you? the last half of your relationship with her was filled with fights. you'd internalized all of the awful things she'd managed to say to you, whether she meant them or not, and she was just now saying she didn't mean it? "demi, i-"

"no, y/n. i promise." she said quickly with a gentle shake of her head. "i regret all of it. i hate that i ever hurt your feelings or made you cry because that wasn't my intention. i was just...i'd get so angry that i would start saying things but never actually thought of how they would hurt you." you knew when demi was serious...and the this was the most serious you'd seen her in a long time. "i know you probably hate me, but i still really care about you."

her words made your stomach flip; butterflies erupted, knowing that she meant what she was saying. but the pain lingered from everything that had gone on during your relationship. your heart was speaking a lot louder than your brain though, and as you gently reached for demi's hand you spoke up for the first time since she entered the room. "i still really care about you, too."

demi's face lit up like a lightbulb as the realization that not all hope was lost. her free hand came forward to hold your cheek, both of you slowly inching closing to one another until your noses gently touched. "let me show you." she whispered before finally catching you in a gentle kiss.

your next moves were almost a complete blur; the tension had changed around you and demi to not so much angry tension, but this time one of a sexual nature. the two of you hurried in between kisses to remove articles of clothing until there was nothing left, your hands exploring one another's bodies for the first time in weeks. even though it had been some time away from demi, you personally hadn't been with anyone else; the pain was still too real, too fresh for you to introduce another person to this level of intimacy. but this - having demi in this way - it felt so normal. like you hadn't skipped a beat.

her kisses moved down from your lips to your neck and collarbone. demi was quick to adjust herself so you were both sat with your legs interlocked with one another, your bare centers pressed against one another and the heat of the moment causing both of you to moan and whine with anticipation. "dems..." you mumbled breathlessly, your fingers tangling in her hair to keep her as close as possible.

nothing else needed to be said; she knew what you needed, because she needed it just as badly. a small gasp left your lips as demi slowly began to move against you, her arms tightening around your body in response. "look at me, baby." she whispered, leaning your foreheads together as you made eye contact and moaned against one another. as she moved and created friction against your clit, you moved your own hips against her to give demi the same sensation. "you're so beautiful. can't want to feel you cum against me like you used to."

once again, demi's words drove you crazy. you whimpered, your ankles locking behind demi's back to keep her there and move a little faster. as the two of you moved and kissed, it only brought both of you closer and closer to a climax that neither of you had experienced in so long - let alone one the two of you shared - and that thought alone made you cling to demi as if she was going to slip away. "wanna cum with you." you mumbled.

demi smiled, your sweaty forehead leaning against her shoulder while you let out soft incoherent mumbles of the same few words. please...baby...demi...need you...

all of that alone, along with the increased speed creating more friction against your bodies, caused both you and demi to reach your highs at about the same time. you leaned back on your hands with a gasp as your thighs trembled. "fuck...oh fuck!" you whimpered. demi wasn't far behind, her own body shaking with euphoria as she finished as well. she was quick though to pull you closer to her body again, running a hand through your hair and exchanging kisses to work both of you down from your climax.

you opened your eyes to look at demi, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. "i think i forgive you." you teased softly, demi's fingers twirling your hair as you cuddled with one another.