#its a whole bit. gotta figure that one out

[isaacathom]

genuinely spent the entirety of class debating if a particular plot point in the scifi thingo would be 'better' if someone got shot during it

[b4kuch1n]

the king shunned, the lion dead, the knight lost, the princess absent. but the wizard lives.

[cubedmango]

finished the translation but it took longer than it shouldve bc i kept giggling at this like every 5 mins

[daz4i]

if i may complain for a bit about something that doesn't actually matter and can be easily avoided. god i hate fics that baby-fy chuuya

[unholyeverything]

I just realised tomorrow marks the 7ths week of me being sick and feeling like garbage lol It's some ups and downs but generally it's been a while since I've been healthy and none knows whats up which is nice.

[1tsjusty0u]

i Will figure out a way to make this character arc finish in a timely manner

[katszumi]

bakugou hated defeat. he was never one to forfeit anything. if he could challenge the ocean to a battle, he would and sincerely believe he’d win.

once, he admits defeat to the universe and chooses to let you slip through his fingers.

when he began to fall in love with your sweet manner, delicate touch, warm smile and witty behavior, he also began to hate himself.

he hated the way he was when it came to feelings. he knew he wasn’t able to express his emotions like a good boyfriend should. he was intolerable, insufferable. something that couldn’t have mixed with you.

love was a foreign concept to him, something he couldn’t grasp but something he desperately wished for deep down, no matter how many times he brushed it off or ridiculed the idea.

bakugou knew love wasn’t designed for him, and he wasn’t ever going to let his silly imagination deceive him otherwise.

but, he knows his heart never stands a chance. especially tonight when he finds you on the terrace of ua. the night-sky wrapped the area in its darkness, the crescent moon illuminating the brightest color it could, and the silent night bringing the greatest solitude it could.

bakugou attempts to leave you be, but your eyes find him faster than he originally thought, him being pulled into your magnetic, overwhelming aura.

“hey,” he begins, a slight waver in his voice from his nerves. “not enjoyin’ the party inside?”

you chuckle slightly, waving his question off. “just needed some air.”

bakugou nods in response. he folded his arms over the railing, taking in the scenery around them.

it was the last night for the third years at ua, everyone celebrating their triumphs, losses, friendships. it was the last time they’d be within this building all together, the last time bakugou could silently admire you from afar. he’d always think about his last day there, wondering if he’d be shouting from excitement. he wasn’t close to thinking that he’d feel like his whole world was coming down.

you were planning to travel to the united states to start your hero debut, receiving an offer there that you just couldn’t pass up. he remembered the moment when you told him so vividly. you wore a huge smile, basically jumping out of excitement. that was the first time bakugou came to the realization that he couldn’t have you.

truth be told, he was scared of breaking paths with you. anger, sorrow, fear. you shone a light on all of those emotions. it felt like his anchor was gone. breaking every stable piece off of him one by one.

“so, what’s next for you? don’t think you ever told me your plan.”

in his head, bakugou replies with, that was on purpose. he wanted to remove everything from his mind. go with the flow and live in the moment until it was officially time to get started on his new path of life. but, he figured there was no more time to put it off.

“stay in the city for a bit. kirishima talked about collaboratin’ on an agency, so been givin’ that some consideration.” he replies somberly. “i don’t know really, just gotta find something to keep me busy.”

you echoed bakugou’s action from earlier, nodding to his statement. a small sigh parted your lips, partly from exhaustion, but also from sadness.

“you scared?” it came out as a whisper, as if it was a taboo subject to never touch on, and frankly it was when it came to bakugou.

he waited to respond, pausing for as long as he could before the silence turned uncomfortable.

“yeah.” something so simple but spoke so much considering bakugou would never admit such a thing. “you’ll be okay though. you got an offer some of us wish we could have, and i heard the states has good job opportunities.”

“i don’t wanna go.” first it came out as a mumble, bakugou unsure if he just understood the words that came out of your mouth.

“what?”

“i don’t want to go.” this time, your voice was much more stern.

“the fuck you talkin’ about? you’ve been excited for this shit the day you got the letter, now you don’t wanna go? as if.” he was aware that he came off a little too defensive, mostly to shield his heart from catching a little bit of hope, he didn’t mean to come at you so harshly.

you peeled your eyes away from him, purposely avoiding his eye contact. looking at him seemed more like receiving a scolding from a parent more than anything right now.

“i mean, the united states? i’ll be there alone, no family, no friends. it’s not the money or opportunities i’m concerned about, bakugou. it’s about my happiness.” you explained. “isn’t that something you’re thinking about too?”

bakugou weighs his options. he thinks he has nothing else to lose, but he also considers the fact of you breaking his heart even more than it is. besides, you were smart, he knew you were going to take the offer anyway no matter how bad your nerves were eating you up.

“you can’t think with your heart about things like this, y/n.” he knows he’s an asshole. he knows you’re looking to him for the reassurance you want to hear but he just can’t give it.

“i’m not! i just want to be happy doing the things i love and that’s not possible in an environment i cant stand to be in.”

“you don’t know that yet.”

“i’m getting a pretty good feeling.”

“because you’re scared.”

you shrug, “so what? you don’t know how i feel. you’ll be here with your mom, dad, and all of your friends. i’ll have to start over from scratch in a country i know nothing about.”

he scoffed, his eyes darting away from your figure. “right because you know exactly how i feel.” his tone bled with sarcasm.

“you don’t tell me how you feel for anything, so sorry for taking an educated guess.” you retorted.

“you never ask to begin with.”

“as if you’d even tell me. you think i haven’t noticed you avoiding me these past couple of weeks? you don’t even talk to me anymore.”

now the roles reversed, you stared at him, bakugou not daring to look into your eye.

he shifted in his position, beginning to become uncomfortable. he replayed in his mind what he should’ve done moments ago instead of coming to speak to you.

“nothing to say?” you were playing with fire, not caring that you were poking the bear. “guess that’s not anything new. you just do whatever you want, say whatever you wish without thinking of the other person, because you’re ‘katsuki bakugou’. the man who cares about none other than the title of being the number one hero.”

“that’s not fuckin’ true and you know it.” he snaps his head towards you.

“do i?” your eyes searched his. “maybe a few months ago i would’ve, but you’ve been treating me like an outcast recently. i thought i mattered to you! i thought we were something!”

“what do you want me to say here?”

“i want you to be honest.”

bakugou clenched his teeth, his jaw sharpening from the action. of course he wanted to be with you, there was no other girl that he could imagine being with. but it just couldn’t work. you weren’t made to be with a monster, and he didn’t deserve to enjoy something so sweet as you.

so, bakugou opted to refuse the truth once again, brushing her off.

“you’re just too good for me.” he simply replies. “don’t waste your potential here. go to america.”

bakugou takes no more time to indulge in your erratic behavior, so he leaves you at the terrace, the noise of the party being heard the moment he opened the side door.

he wanted you more than anything. if the universe loved him a little more, then maybe things between you two would work out. but because of his shitty luck and vexatious attitude, you two just didn’t match.

he also knew there was just someone you were bound to fall in love with in america.

bakugou wasn’t going to lead you on to make a stupid decision. even if that meant destroying himself in the process.

the morning after, your name wasn’t to be found on any of his socials, and his messages to you turned green. if he didn’t know before, then he definitely knew now that he burned anything he had with you.

pt two

[themidnightcrimson]

skirt ࿏ wm

summary: in which wanda gets a little too handsy during a small party.

words: 4.5k

warnings: top!wanda, fingering (r receiving), semi-public sex, severely gay ogling, reader being a fuckin simp

this fic is for 18+ only. minors dni.

masterlist.

Steve had unfortunately complained to Tony that the parties he always held in his huge, modern, techno mansion were not intimate enough. Tony, always ready to take complaints from Steve with a cheeky attitude, passed the message along to Pepper who decided to truly make something cozier for everyone.

Tony’s parties were pretty much bi-weekly at this point, every other Friday night. The team almost always showed up in entirety, and the regularity of it was becoming sentimental to some of you. Even Tony was starting to plan them: “You guys gotta try this whiskey. I’ll bring it next Friday” or “I swear, Cap, I’m gonna put you in a suit on Friday and shoot you up to Mars.” It was cute.

Tonight, instead of drinking and playing poker around Tony’s in-house bar room, Pepper had set up something beautiful outside. You’d arrived at the party with Nat, stepping through the back patio of Tony’ mansion and seeing something set up in his backyard. Tied between two trees was a large white screen, and several yards in front of it was a projector mounted onto the roof of the patio, pointed right towards the screen.

In front of the screen, on the lush, freshly-trimmed grass yard, was a whole bunch of pillowy chairs with blankets cast over them, set up like little cots. To the side of the arena was a little hot dog stand that also had a big red and golden popcorn machine currently popping popcorn attached to its hip, as well as a large futuristic-looking cooler full of ice and bottled drinks. There was even an attachment on the front of the hot dog stand with an array of candy bars.

Strung above the entire arena were strings of fairy lights going in every direction, tied between trees and the railing of the patio porch. The sun hadn’t quite set yet, but they were already turned on, providing cute little lights above the cozy scene. It was the homiest thing you’d ever seen at Tony’s home.

“My god,” Nat remarked as she looked around, looking as shocked as you. “It looks like Tony’s planning on proposing to all of us at the same time tonight.”

“I would say yes,” Banner said, coming up beside you and gawking up at the lights. He ran down the steps of the patio and towards one of the fluffy chairs made of pillow, throwing himself down on it and squishing it to the ground. You could hear his sigh of comfort from the patio.

“Do you guys like it?” Pepper asked, coming out of the house. “There’s more food and snacks inside if you guys want anything that’s not out there.”

“I feel like I’m experiencing my first American sleepover,” Nat said, turning to Pepper. “It’s great, really!”

It was cute seeing Nat get so excited like that. Steve showed up behind Pepper and had the same reaction as everyone else, even tearing up a little bit. When Tony reluctantly entered the patio, Steve gave him a slap on the shoulder. “This is really great, Tony. Really great.”

Tony tightly smiled and quickly went back into the house to avoid any more sentiment.

Since the few of you were the first to arrive, you all stayed on the porch and made conversation while waiting for everyone else to show up. It was a chilly spring night, the wind picking up and every once in a while catching the black skirt you were wearing. It was that annoying time of year, of course, where you would have been sweating during the day but now you were shivering at night. You wished you had worn pants instead of a skirt. You didn’t know you’d be thanking yourself later for the opposite.

You had been discreetly waiting for someone the entire time. As more people lingered through the back door into the backyard, you nervously glanced at each figure and hoped it’d be the one you wanted it to be, but it never was.

And then you knew. You didn’t see her, or hear her name, or any other evidence that she was there other than the fact that the pit in your stomach grew and there was a tingling sensation across your nerve endings. The witch always had that affect on you. You didn’t know if it was a spell or something, or maybe you were just acting like a crush-stricken schoolgirl, but you had a habit of always knowing when Wanda entered a room.

Surely enough, through the tinted windows lining the back porch, you could see a flash of red hair making its way towards the back door, that smile you had memorized greeting people as she stepped between them. A shiver crawled its way up your lower spine as the door opened and that face stepped through, the one you’ve been dreaming about, the one that haunts you, the one that twists your stomach into knots when you see it because it makes you think of all the times you’ve touched yourself with that face in mind.

Wanda stepped onto the porch, her hair in wavy locks down her shoulders. She was wearing a soft, light pink sweater that probably looked like off-white to everyone else in the dusk light, but you paid enough attention to know it was pink. It matched the gentle pink in her cheeks, and in her lips…

You and Wanda’s…”situation” was only just blossoming. After months and months of tense friendship and subtle flirting, you’d finally broken the ice when you’d shared a drunken makeout session at one of the parties. You found Wanda to be much bolder than you’d expected her to be, but it invigorated you so. She knew how to keep you on the edge but give you enough to keep you satisfied. She hadn’t fucked you yet, though she’s gotten close. You’ve felt her mouth, and her thigh, but she hadn’t touched you with her hands yet. Her hands.

It was embarrassing when Nat had to snap you out of it. You’d been staring at Wanda since she’d entered the backyard space and got caught up in a conversation with someone else on her way to greet you. You weren’t even sure if she’d seen you yet, but with how sly the witch was, you were sure she was fully aware of everything.

“Hey, you’ve got a little drool there,” Nat said, motioning to her own chin while looking at yours. You blushed and rolled your eyes, taking a deep breath and turning your back on Wanda. Even though she still hadn’t looked at you, you swore you could feel her eyes burning into your back.

“Shut up,” you whispered, crossing your arms and shivering slightly in the cold.

Like clockwork, you suddenly felt a warm arm wrap itself around your shoulders. God, you even recognized her touch now.

Looking up, you saw Wanda appear beside you, her arm slung over your shoulder and pulling you into her gently. You felt the softness of her sweater and her hair against your arm as you were overcome with her cologne. It was sweet but deep, and it made you melt every time you smelled it because it reminded you of all your moments with her.

Wanda smiled down at you, and you half-expected her to lean down for a kiss, but she didn’t. You weren’t public yet, though Nat knew the extent of it, and everyone else had just assumed. They all thought that if you weren’t fucking, it was at least obvious that Wanda wanted to, and no one would dare get in the way of that. This was all without your knowledge, of course, because you were innocent and naïve and thought that no one had any clue about it except for Nat. That was one thing that Wanda liked about you.

“Hey there,” Wanda smoothly said in almost a whisper. Every time you get close to her for the first time, you feel like you’re seeing her for the first time all over again. Her sparkling green eyes, soft lips turned in a self-assured smile, structured cheekbones, her cute little nose. It all made you swoon like a schoolgirl.

“Hi,” you squeaked, feeling your face get hot all over.

Wanda gave a breathy chuckle, obviously picking up on your little squeak. She gave a little space between you for a moment to let her eyes rake down over your figure. They landed at your hips, and her smile faded, turning almost crooked for a moment before she licked her lips and pursed them. “Hmmmm,” she hummed, pulling you into her again, a little tighter now. “You look so fucking good,” she hissed, leaning down towards your ear. You felt her breath fan against your ear, and then her lips grazed it, before she turned away, stiffening as if trying to hold something in. You watched her jaw flex, the muscles straining in her swan neck as she inhaled deeply.

You weren’t sure what exactly was going through the witch’s mind, but your body was burning all over. It almost pained you how you always had such a physical reaction to Wanda.

Wanda did not let go of you. Even as she lingered around the patio, even as people came up and made conversation, she kept you under her arm like her own pet bunny. You felt safe like that, tucked into Wanda, letting her lead the conversations while you just leaned against her soft sweater and inhaled her sweet perfume. The duality of Wanda’s gentle physique but domineering nature made your head dizzy.

Wanda was like a bee to honey to you for the entire time that you and everyone else waited for the party’s population to be dense enough to start a movie on the large projector screen. Finally, once the sun had set and only left an orange streak at the bottom of the sky, Tony came back out onto the patio and, fully equipped in his suit, stuck his hands out to the side and levitated up towards the projector. Halting mid-air, the face of the suit flipped away to reveal Tony’s face.

“Greetings and welcome to the lamest party Tony Stark has ever thrown,” Tony announced, earning several laughs throughout the small crowd of people before flipping the projector on and flying away.

Light illuminated onto the screen, and an old black-and-white Hollywood movie began playing on the screen. People made their way over to the little cots set out on the lawn, while some stayed on the patio pretending to be the adult part of the crowd.

“Want some snacks?” Wanda whispered in your ear, to which you gave a dumb nod, too focused on the way her hand slid down to your waist and gripped it.

Wanda led you over the little hot dog stand that shone like a beacon in the darkening lawn, apart from the light from the movie. You were about to tell Wanda that you wanted popcorn and Skittles, but she somehow beat you to it. “A bag of popcorn and some Skittles,” she told the guy behind the stand. Nodding, he began to load up a bag of buttery popcorn as you looked up at Wanda in confusion to how she knew what you wanted.

Mind-reading can be useful in many ways, kitten.

You thought Wanda had spoken, since you had heard her voice, but her lips didn’t even move and her voice sounded like it was behind you. Your eyes widened in realization that Wanda was using mind-reading on you for the first time—though it actually was about the hundredth time that she’d pried in on your cerebral. It was the telepathic communication that was happening for the first time, but she thought your confusion on the terms was cute.

“Thanks,” Wanda told the guy as he handed you the warm bag of popcorn. She took a bag of Skittles and two bottles of soda and placed her hand on your lower back, her warm palm ushering you towards a cot in front of the screen.

She decided to choose one a little off to the side, spaced out more from any others. It was a double, basically a large pillow in the shape of a chair that could hold two people.

“This is so fun!” you exclaimed, hopping down on the cot and sighing at how soft it was, understanding now why Banner was so relaxed when he had jumped onto one. There was even a little basket beside the chair that held a large, fluffy blanket folded up. Pepper had truly gone all out.

Wanda plopped down beside you, her warm body instantly melting into yours as her weight into the pillowy chair dipped you down closer to her. The redistribution of weight had moved you in a way that your skirt hiked up your legs.

Wanda’s eyes flickered to your skirt, her pupils swarming. You blushed and pulled your skirt down to cover yourself, discreetly watching Wanda blink and force herself to look away. She leaned back in the chair, snaking her arm behind you and curling it around your waist, which only deepened the blush on your cheeks.

Reaching towards your lap, Wanda took a piece of popcorn from the bag you held between your legs and popped it into her mouth. You took a piece and moved it towards your mouth, but suddenly her hand stopped you.

“Nuh uh,” she said quietly, taking the popcorn from between your fingers. “Let me do it.”

You froze, staring at her face that was so close. It was illuminated by the projection on the screen, her green eyes darker than usual.

“Open your mouth,” she whispered, her eyes flickering down to your lips. There was a hunger in her eyes as she watched you hesitate before slowly opening your lips, your heart beating twice faster in your chest. Wanda brought the popcorn to your mouth, letting your tongue take it. You were surprised when, as you felt the texture of the popcorn on your tongue and the butter flooded your taste buds, the tips of Wanda’s fingers lingered in your mouth. As you attempted to close your lips, they only closed around her fingers, tasting the extra salt left behind on them. Your face grew red and hot as you watched Wanda smirk, pushing her fingers in just a miniscule bit further, her own lips parting in infatuation as she watched your lips suction around her fingers.

“Good girl,” she whispered, slowly dragging her fingers out of your mouth.

As if nothing happened, as if you weren’t sitting there blushing and sweating and feeling the space between your legs get warm, she went back to simply eating the popcorn and staring up at the screen.

Clearing your throat, you forced yourself to stop staring at this blasted woman who just teased you so easily and tried to focus on the movie.

Wanda’s handsy-ness wasn’t too extreme during the first half of the movie. It was only her arm around your waist, her hand rubbing your back sensually, her fingers softly combing through your hair and pulling on it hard once or twice just to get a squeak out of you, to which she pressed a discreet kiss to your neck. It was like she was just playing with you. It was like she was just playing with her food.

It wasn’t until halfway through the movie, when there was no sight of any sunlight in the dark night sky, that Wanda strengthened her moves on you.

Under the pretty fairy lights, as everyone else started to calm down and really settle into the movie, a chilly night breeze sewed itself through the air. It flittered over your exposed legs, causing you to shiver. Wanda, who’d been trying not to ogle your thighs all night, couldn’t help but see the goosebumps on your tender skin.

“You cold?” she asked in a soft, sweet tone. When you nodded, she reached over to the basket and brought out the large, thick blanket, draping it over the both of your laps. The warm, soft blanket was such a relief to your cold legs, and with Wanda’s body also available to you as a heater, you felt so cozy and safe.

Then Wanda’s hand reached under the blanket and rested on your thigh, her palm curving around it. The action made you stiffen, your skin growing exponentially warmer where her hand touched. The intimacy of the action sent shimmers through you, and you tried to beat back the little smile on your face.

Wanda, on the other hand, was trying not to smirk. She was more purposeful than you gave her credit for, but again, your naivety was what fueled her to see just how much she could get away with.

You were trying your hardest to ignore her hand on your thigh until it suddenly shifted upwards, pushing your skirt up with it. You gasped quietly. Her hand was all the way up your thigh now, gripping your flesh firmly. Her fingers were wrapped into the inner most tender part of your thigh, pressing into the soft skin there.

The heat between your legs amplified with how close Wanda was to it. You couldn’t help but nervously glance around, afraid that somehow someone had seen her hand grab your thigh under the thick blankets. Luckily, no one was looking. The closest person to you was Nat, but she was watching the film with her head tilted and arms crossed, obviously trying to analyze it like she did with most films.

“Wanda,” you whispered, glancing up at her to see that she was already staring at you darkly.

“What, princess?” she asked innocently.

The name struck you like a bullet of white hot fire in the pit of your stomach. She watched you seriously, a smirk twitching the corners of her lips, as she tightened her grip on your thigh. It stung a little, her fingertips digging so hard into that sensitive inner flesh of your thigh, that you almost squeaked.

“If you want to make noises for me, then do it, babygirl,” she lilted, and you almost gasped when her hand slipped fully under your skirt. You squirmed a little, but she looked at you threateningly. “Don’t move.”

Your breathing grew heavy as you looked around again, feeling that for sure someone was looking this time. No one was.

No one will see, detka.

Wanda’s voice was in your head again. You sharply turned to look at her, but she was staring at the screen now.

Suddenly, you felt something under the covers spreading your thighs open. You hadn’t even realized you’d been squeezing them together, but as you looked down at the blanket, you saw a hint of red glaring through it as your legs spread themselves wide open. She was using magic to open you up for her. Out of impulse, you tried to slam them shut, but her magic held you there, the red glare dissipating so as to not draw attention to what was happening beneath the blanket.

Be still.

You bit your lip as you felt Wanda’s hand cup you under your skirt, her palm pressing into your fabric-covered core. Your breath quivered out of both nervousness and pleasure when she found your clit through your panties and slowly rubbed it.

I can feel how wet you are through your panties, princess. Her voice was even husky in your head.

You tried to keep still as Wanda rubbed your sensitive nub, looking around again to see that still no one was looking at you. But the fact that anyone could look over at the wrong moment, see part of Wanda’s arm stretched towards your lap under the blanket, seeing shapes inappropriately moving under the fabric, instilled a sense of fear into you that seemed to propel your desire.

Good girl, just keep being still for me. I know how bad you’ve been wanting this. You’ve dreamed so much of my fingers.

God, how did she know? Had she been spying on you?

Her fingers dipped down your fabric-covered slit, tickling there for a moment and feeling the wet spot forming on your panties. You were soaking by now, you could feel it, and it only got worse when Wanda started to push your panties to the side.

You started to open your mouth to tell her no, that she shouldn’t do that in front of everyone at a party, that anyone could look over and see and that it’d be so embarrassing, but her voice was quick to reprimand you.

So what if someone sees? I’ll let anyone know that you’re all mine.

With that, her fingers successfully slipped under the thin, stretchy fabric of your panties and met your soaking cunt. You heard Wanda let out a tense breath as she seeped her fingers through your sopping folds, her jaw flexing again.

You’re so fucking wet, babygirl. Her voice growled within your head, dizzying you.

You glanced around nervously, almost thinking someone was looking at you, but finding that no one was still. You felt so nervous about it, so paranoid, but your feverishness was mostly just from Wanda’s fingers rubbing your bare clit now, moving your wetness all around.

I’ve been wanting to feel your pretty cunt for so long. You just had to wear this slutty little skirt tonight, hmm?

Heat burned throughout you as Wanda’s fingers moved towards your entrance, circling it. You stiffened a little, not knowing exactly what to expect from her. You had to force yourself to not gyrate against her hand, to not turn to her and beg for her to just do it, to not moan out loud. It was especially hard not to do the last thing when Wanda’s fingers thrusted inside you.

“Oh—” you started, until Wanda’s magic snapped your mouth shut. Wanda went completely still, freezing completely. You took a blushing, nervous glance around and nearly died when your eyes made contact with Nat’s eyes.

You froze like a deer in headlights. Nat was staring at you while Wanda’s fingers were inside you for the first time. You were looking her in the eye while your walls clenched around Wanda. You wanted to set yourself on fire.

Fortunately, Nat only gave a casual little head nod and a smile and then turned back to the movie. You knew Nat well enough to know that she wasn’t just pretending that she didn’t see anything. Luckily for you, she really had not noticed anything unusual other than your usual awkwardness around Wanda.

Close call, princess. You almost got found out for being a slut for me.

Taking a shaky breath, your hand crawled around until it found Wanda’s knee under the blanket and gripped it for dear life as she started thrusting her fingers inside you. You tried not to whine at the stretch—it’d been a while for you.

You’re so fucking tight, baby. Wanda’s voice was breathy in your head.

You threw your head back a little as Wanda’s fingers pumped in and out of you, and you could even hear the faint wet sounds coming from under the blanket. It made you feel so dirty, getting fingered like that in front of everyone, and being so wet for it, too.

I knew you were such a slut for me. What if I rip the blanket off right now, hmm? Expose you for spreading your legs for me even in public like a whore?

Gritting your teeth together, you felt Wanda’s two fingers hitting a sweet spot inside you. It was so hard to not buck your hips, to not squirm or moan or do anything but etch claw marks into Wanda’s knee.

And then you felt a more noticeable stretch. Squeezing your eyes shut, you felt Wanda force a third finger into you. This time you couldn’t help it. You threw your head to the side and buried it in Wanda’s chest, letting out a mix between a quiet moan and a sigh that luckily was muffled by Wanda’s sweater. Keeping as still as possible, you inhaled Wanda’s perfume and scratched the fuck out of her knee as she pumped three fingers inside your cunt at an agonizingly slow speed. You knew she would’ve fucked you a lot harder if it weren’t for the sake of being discreet.

“Wanda,” you murmured into her chest, feeling the valley of her breasts from beneath her sweater cushioning your face. “Wanda, I’m close.”

Her fingers were hitting so deep inside you. They were so long, and she was curling them, and she was hitting your sweet spot deep inside, and you could feel your juices dripping down yourself.

Hold it. She commanded.

You didn’t even realize it, but you clamped your teeth around a chunk of her sweater, biting down hard on the thick cable-knit fabric as the woman’s fingers plundered you at a steady pace. You didn’t even know if anyone was looking at you now, and you didn’t even care because your body was starting to tremble as you struggled to not cum all over her fingers.

Finally, when you begged again, she acquiesced with Cum for me, princess.

It took all of your power to not moan out loud as you orgasmed with Wanda’s fingers lodged deep inside you, your walls spasming around them and your hips trembling. She nuzzled her nose against the top of your head and hissed when you bit down on her sweater again and accidentally bit into her breast. She held you still with her spare arm, her fingers deep in you, as you came down from the blinding high.

“That’s it,” she whispered into your hair. “Good girl, just breathe.” You were breathing very hard to make up for not being able to moan. “You were such a good, quiet girl for me, angel.” The praise landed over you like soft kisses until you realized she was also pressing soft kisses to the top of your head.

It didn’t help that, when you had finally calmed down and Wanda pulled her shiny fingers out of you, she popped them into her mouth and sucked off all of your cum. You blushed and dug your face into her chest again, this time purposefully biting her breast which made her hiss again and then giggle evilly.

Luckily, no one had seen you get fingered by Wanda, at least not to your knowledge. Nothing had ever come out of it, at least, except that Tony spread a rumor that you had peed yourself during the party because when you stood up from the chair at the end of the night, there was a wet spot right under where you had been sitting.

[rockettothestars222]

Mama’s Boy

Summary : During a bonding activity at the hotel, parents get brought up. Everyone seemed okay with talking a little about their parentage, but Alastor was off put by the topic. He didn’t think anyone would notice the way his smile strained, or that anyone would care when he slipped away, but you did. You cared. And you wanted to help him, even if he didn’t want to accept it.

Tags : GenderNeutral!reader, reader is shorter than Al, soft!Alastor, sorta, fluff, hurt/comfort, Alastor misses his mom, Alastor needs a hug, Alastor is losing it

Notes : Lots of people seemed to enjoy my interpretation of soft Alastor in my last oneshot, so here’s another one! I heart Alastor sm. Enjoy!

Word Count : 2.3k

——————

“Well you know! When your dad is the king of Hell, it complicates things sometimes, and with as long as my mom has been gone—” Charlie’s voice grows distant as you lose focus. It’s not that you don’t care, you’ve all just been talking about your parents for a good hour and a half. It started with a bonding exercise Charlie had decided would be fun. It started with talking about who people who meant a lot to you, and when Husk mentioned his father, everyone began to add on.

You looked around at everyone’s faces, and everyone seemed content with the conversation. Charlie was droning on about her familial issues, Angel had talked about his mother beforehand, and even Pentious mentioned some fond memories of his parents. But Alastor had been uncharacteristically silent throughout the whole experience.

Your gaze finally falls on The Radio Demon himself, an uncomfortable and awkward posture taking its hold on him. He was standing straighter than usual, his grin that was as consistent as he was creepy was now fairly strained, as his eyes darted, trying to look at anything but the company he surrounded himself with. Your brows furrowed as you stared, though you tried to make it not so obvious. His shoulders sunk for a moment as you watched him suck in a breath, readjusting to his normal position and finally breaking his silence.

“You’ll all have to excuse me for a moment, I have some business to attend to!” His preppy voice cut through Charlie’s dialogue as the focus in the room catches on him. His eyes finally find someone to land on. You! Oh, he’s looking at you. You blink as his gaze narrows, turning on his heels as the rest of the room murmurs goodbyes. Your eyes followed his path, watching him disappear further into the hotel.

“I didn’t think we had anything else on the agenda today,” Vaggie glances to her girlfriend, looking for some sort of explanation for the overlord’s odd behavior. You cast a glance Charlie’s way as well, curious, but you were met with a shrug and an absentminded smile.

“Must be personal errands or something! We can keep going with the activity,” she motions to you with her hand, encouraging you to speak about your own experiences. Your lips pressed into a thin line as your eyes drifted back to the spot where Alastor had once stood. You had an itching sensation in your brain that you had a hunch wouldn’t fade unless you figured out what was going on.

You and Alastor were close, to some extent. He spoke to you more openly than any of the others at the hotel. And you were the same with him. But one thing he would never talk about was his life before Hell. It was a mystery. Like a locked vault that’s code was long gone. But you longed to grow closer to him. You’d be lying if you said your feelings toward the demon hadn’t begun to bubble into something more, but now wasn’t the time to process that. You had more interesting things to think about.

After a long beat of silence, you stood up.

“Sorry Charlie, but I gotta use the bathroom, I’ll be back in a bit!” You assure with a toothy grin and a thumbs up. The princess could only giggle, nodding at you and ushering to go take care of your ‘business.’

You hurried off in the direction Alastor had gone, going through a list of places he’d likely be in your head. Kitchen? No, he’d gone the opposite direction. Radio tower? He only went up there to broadcast. Library? Hotel doesn’t have one of those. You frowned. He’d like one though, you were sure of it.

His room.

It was the only other logical place to check in the hotel. You picked up your pace, his room was on one of the higher floors of the hotel. Finally reaching the elevator, you hesitate. Alastor wasn’t a vulnerable person. If something was wrong, would he tell you? You pressed the button for the elevator, despite doubt eating at the inside of your stomach. Stepping onto the dinky machine, you pressed the button for the floor you needed, taking a breath in and out. You needed to know what was going on with him.

The elevator hummed to life as it hoisted you upwards, an awkward silence falling over you, despite there being no one else in the machine. It dinged as you hit your desired floor, and you sighed, happy to be off of the unreliable thing. You continued your journey to The Radio Demon’s room, you face beginning to sour as you realized how unrealistic you were being. Al would never admit to you what was wrong. You knew that. Why were you trying?

As you reached his door, you stared up at it. A deer skull was etched into the red wood, a golden knob flourishing in the flickering lights of the hotel. You couldn’t give up on him. You’d gone through a lot to try and get close with Alastor. You couldn’t throw that effort away because of doubt. How idiotic would that be?

Without much thought, you placed your hand on that beautiful golden knob, slowly turning it, trying to be as quiet as possible. The door slowly swung open, not so much as a creak coming from its hinges. You made a mental note to ask him how he got his door to be so quiet when all this was over, gently closing the door behind you. Sat on his bed, hunched over and face in his hands was The Radio Demon himself. Your eyes scanned the room as you tried your absolute best to not loudly question how he had a SWAMP in his room. Now wasn’t the time.

You walked into his room, approaching the deer-like demon in silence. You could hear muffled sniffles from under his hands, and he seemed far too lost in his own thoughts to pay your presence any mind. You, with slight hesitation, placed your hand on his shoulder. His body stiffened as his fingers parted slightly, his red eyes peering up at you through his lashes.

“Alastor, are you—”

A black tendril wrapping around your arm and pushing you back put a hold on your sentence. You stumbled backwards, barely catching yourself as you looked Alastor. He stood up, fast, tear stains brandishing his cheeks as his smile, that was somehow still there, strained into what was the closest thing to frowning he may be capable of. His neck bent wildly, his body growing larger in size as his eyes turned a shadowy black.

“GET OUT.” His voice was crackled with radio static, his teeth glued shut as his spoke through them like he was, well, a radio.

You’d never wanted to run away more than in that moment. This had gotten intense VERY quickly, and it was a bit frightening. But as your neck craned up and your eyes met his, and you’d never been met with such sadness.

“I can’t. Not until you talk to me, Alastor,” your words were firm, but your eyes were soft. Full of compassion. He shook his head, eyes squinting shut.

“You want me to talk to YOU? Why are you even trying to pretend to care?!” Alastor’s voice cracked as he slammed his fists onto the ground, the floor shuddering beneath him. You stepped closer, your eyes pleading silently that he’d hear you. Not just listen to your words, but comprehend them.

“I’m not trying to pretend anything. But I could tell you were upset earlier, and it’s obvious that you are now! I just want to be here for you! I want to understand!” Your voice rose in volume as you stood your ground, not faltering even this slightest bit. An almost animalistic growl left The Radio Demon’s throat as he moved closer to you.

“You truly want me to believe you’d ‘understand?!’ My mother was the ONLY person I had when I was alive, she was the only one that was there for me! The only one I’d ever DARE let myself be vulnerable around because she would NEVER hurt me,” Alastor’s hands clutched his head, his fingers tangling in his hair as his eye twitched. You listened with a solace look upon your face, narrowing your eyes at him with pity creasing your brow. “And NOW look at me. A demon. A MONSTER. I’ve ended countless lives, she was a saint among the living, and I am a HELLSPAWN. What would,” he collapsed to his knees, arms falling limp to his sides as he returned to his natural form, his voice falling quiet. “What would she think of me now? Her precious pride and joy. A murderer. She would be disgusted by me. Does it even matter? I’ll never see her again. She died long before I did. And now I’m here. Alone.”

Silence fell over the room as Alastor’s chest heaved, tears streaking his face once again. You waiting a moment before approaching him, kneeling down in front of the taller man. You gently, somewhat hesitantly, took his cheek in your hand, tilting his head to make him look at you. Your eyes scanned his face, eyeing that never ending smile. Your lips tugged upward as your thumb caressed his cheek, making a moment of contact with the corner of his lips.

“I bet your mom misses that smile,” his ears pinned down to the sides of his head, Alastor’s trembling hand covered your own, his smile tugging tighter as he leaned into your touch. “You’re not alone, Alastor.”

He fell into you, and your eyes widened in surprise. His head buried in the crook of your neck, you could feel his tears coating your skin and shirt. His arms wrapped around your torso, his claws were surprisingly gentle. Almost like he was being cautious. You moved from your knees to your butt with a quiet thump, pulling his body closer to yours. One of your arms wrapped tightly around the lower half of his torso, the other around his shoulders, your hand combing through his soft hair.

Alastor’s face was warm against your skin, you could hear every sniffle, feel every shudder as soft sobs wracked his body. Sometimes, being in Hell made you forget, every person you met down here was once innocent. They were once alive, vulnerable, and just someone trying to find their place in the world. Big bad overlords like the on you were cradling in your arms were once human. They all were someone’s pride and joy, someone’s baby, someone’s entire reason to keep living. Despite what they’d become, they once were soft and pure, nothing is born evil. And times like this made you remember that.

After a good few minutes of The Radio Demon crying into your shoulder, he’d finally calmed, now just sitting in that same position, holding you close, a small sniffle every once in a while. You’d been lulling soft words into his ear, your best attempt to relax him. Slowly, Alastor picked his head up, straightening himself to sit sort-of-in-front-of-you, your legs were a little tangled due to the way you’d both been sitting for the past while. He looked into your eyes, his hands were gently fiddling with the fabric of your shirt as he averted his gaze.

“This was. A relieving experience,” he admits, his smile small but seemingly genuine. His face was tear stained, there were light bags under his eyes, but all and all, he seemed a lot lighter.

“Good. That’s,, that’s good. I’m glad,” you gave a lopsided grin, moving your hands to caress his arms. “Seemed like you might’ve needed that.”

“I suppose I did,” he returned the motion, his hands falling to your hips, though loosely.

This was the most physically affectionate you’d ever seen Alastor. He, generally speaking, didn’t like much contact. The most people would get from him is a simple handshake or pinch of the cheek, maybe an arm around the shoulder, but it was almost always in a condescending way. But this was very different. It was softer, more intimate. You felt almost privileged to see this side of him.

“I meant what I said,” you break the string of comfortable silence. Alastor tilted his head, expecting some elaboration. “About wanting to be here for you. Whenever you need it, I’m always there.”

“I know you did, my dear. I would like to. Hm,” a pause. “I’m sorry. For snapping at you. It’s hard to be open when we are quite literally in Hell. I should’ve known better than to think you’d ever try to use this against me. You’d never do that, would you?” His grip on your hips tightened slightly. A warning. But also, a plead.

“Of course not, I’d never even think of it,” you gave his arms a reassuring squeeze, and his grip on you loosened. You could only smile, pulling yourself closer to him and placing your forehead against his. Alastor rolled his eyes though when they fell back to you, his whole expression softened. This was a tender moment, and wasn’t one that you’d likely ever get again.

You admired him for a short moment, allowing silly thoughts of romance and companionship dance in your head. Alastor, The Radio Demon, with a lowlife sinner like you? It would be unprecedented. And yet, you couldn’t help but let the softness of this moment cloud your judgement. You leaned in, kissing the corner of his mouth Alastor tensed. As you pulled away, you could see a very obvious blush across his face.

“Sorry,” you murmur with a smile, pulling away completely, withdrawing all contact. “Let me know if you need anything else, okay?”

Before he could reply, you gave a gentle pat on his head, and then walked out of his room. The overlord could only blink, watching you disappear. His heart fluttered with excited jitters as he stood, dusting himself off. He may just have to come to you with his issues more often.

[pedge-page]

Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife #10 : Snack Time

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Momma bird hungry for all the snacks in the world. Takes some time and frustration before Joel figures out the exact kind of snack you really want.

Warnings: Pregnant reader, Angry!Joel, oral M!receiving, face fucking, throat bulge, throat-pie, dumbification, junk food binge, eating meat, bossy reader as always

18+ ONLY

- - - -

Joel didn’t know he married the Hungry Hungry Hippo, Galactus the planet devourer, Garfield the tabby cat.

You’re on your phone texting while cuddling Joel. He’s more interested in the movie than you are, but that doesn’t stop him from tracing his finger along your arm, occasionally kissing the top of your head and nuzzling his nose. He loves the scent of your shampoo after a wash, damp and cold against his warm chest. Sometimes you protest how closely he wants to cuddle you, all smushed up on the couch. Your body temp skyrocketed with the baby changing everything. But since he’s keep the AC on full blast, your warm heavy body keeps him from being a popsicle.

The landlines chimes in from the kitchen.

He rolls his eyes. Of course, something to interrupt the comfort that took 40 minutes for you to settle into. "I'll get it,” He grumbles quickly and hoists himself up off the couch. He wants to make whoever the fuck is calling at such a late hour a quick convo. If it’s fucking Tommy needing bailed out again, he thinks begrudgingly, I’ll just hang up on him. 

He clears his throat and answers: “Hello, Miller Residents.”

"Can you get me a bowl of Cap'n crunch while you're up?"

He glances back over at you sitting up on the couch, your cell to your ear as you wave at him. you point to your belly mouthing I T S  F O R  T H E  B A B Y.

It’s for the baby, my ass. You’ve been a hungry hungry hippo who’s been snacking like crazy and ignoring the doctor’s warnings. 

But cranky Momma is way worse than a scolding doctor. 

He grits his teeth and slams the receiver a little too hard down on the desk.

You can hear him shuffling around in the kitchen, a clash of a bowl on the counter  and the jingle of overly processed cereal filling it up. 

He walks back into the living room. You’ve taken up the whole couch now, with no inclination to move over to let him back on.

You shove a fist into the bowl and pop a bunch of the crunchy orange squares into your mouth “f’anks” you mumble, eyes not once making contact with him as you stare ahead and much away. Crumbs fall onto your chest and down to the floor and sofa, as if Joel hadn’t just cleaned all of it this morning.

.

The next night, Joel's cooking some steaks. You weren’t really a meat-crazed person, having maybe one or two helpings of poultry or occasionally red beef a week, but normally ,you could go without it for a few meals without thinking about it. 

Pregnant momma? She was a fucking carnivore. He had barely set the sizzling steak down before you snatch one onto your plate. He turns around to slice into one, checking its temp before serving, only to see it was a bit too red and bloodied on the inside.

"Oh babe I gotta cook these a little longer; they're too rare--"

You were hacking away and tearing a large chunks of the red, near pulsing meat, juices pouring out your lips, a vampire gorged on a fat blood sucking meal. Despite its tenderness, you chew endlessly and stare off into the table like a Llama enjoying its food on the field. 

"Maybe...we should—slow down a bit,” he suggests with uncertainty. His fork and knife frozen in midair, still in each hand. He hasn’t shifted view or blinked, but clear worry (and maybe a tad bit of fear) stretch across his face.

"Uighgrrfmggmmdeeofxsw,” you reply with gargled cow remains sloshing in your wide open trap. 

 “Right. That."

You swallow what’s left. Joel’s does a double take: your steak is somehow gone, juice licked clean off the plate in front of you.

“Can I have yours???"

He had only sliced 4 cuts  for himself so far. But the hungry look in your pupils, licking your lips while watching his dinner, it’s clear you’ve answered for him. He sadly sets his cutlery down and slides his plate to you. 

Its even more interesting when you douse it in salt and throw a slab of butter on top of it, watching it melt before slicing a big chunk off.

"You gotta watch the salt intake—“

“—Can you make chicken? I want chicken now.”

“N-no,” he shakes his head, whiplash from the conversation. Maybe you’ve gone def AND blind AND lost your taste buds. “I made steak. You've had 2 steaks now. Why do you need chicken?”

“That second one was for the baby. The chicken is for me.”

“What about the fist one?”

“….We split that.”

“Awfully hungry baby,” he says with a dead tone, straight faced as he eats the one roll left in the basket that hasn’t been devoured by you. 

“Well she’s yours, isn’t she?” 

-

You wipe your face with a napkin, a fried chicken leg and wing now securely packed tight in your tum tum along with the famished baby.

"What's for dessert?" You chime eagerly.

Joel turns to wash the dishes, hiding his smirk. He’s got you now, no surprise cravings will catch him short on this one: He boasts proudly, “I bought you apple pie--"

"I want cupcakes. Whip cream icing. Chocolate.”

His grin quickly deflates into a frown. “No.” He says sternly, a little aggravated. “I bought you pie—“

"Did I say I want pie? L I S T E N,” you snap, slapping your palms together with each syllable. 

He puts his foot down with tense sudsy hands going to his hips. “No. I'm not going out again.”

You raise your eyebrows threateningly. One look.

30 minutes later Joel is shuffling into the house with a pack of 12 cupcakes he bought at the bakery.

-

You’ve managed to prop yourself up on the couch after some heaving. “Ha! The baby is making me workout get strong! Obviously that’s why I’m so hungry.” You shrug it off. “Oh! I want raw cookie dough.”

Joel was on his phone the entire time, but the second you said I want, his brain queued in and he quickly retorts, “No.”

He goes back to replaying the voicemail he missed, settled and focused on the opposite couch.

Of course he Doesn't realize you’ve somehow lumbered up past him and now waddling back with 4 chunks of raw cookies in your hand, popping them in your mouth one at a time.

His eyes dark up to watch you, transfixed on the screen as you bend your knees, hardly paying attention to the way you’re about to fall on the couch. He has half the mind to help, but what’s one lesson you need to learn the hard way?

Regretfully, you bounce down successfully and pull your legs up.

And then, as you dust your hands off from the chocolate stains melted on your palms, Joel’s lips part in a o as you reach behind you and pulling an entire gallon container of animal crackers. 

"Babe"

"Wha?” You don’t turn around to look at him, still shoveling them into your mouth. “Yuu wan wan?"

"You need to stop eating every damn thing in the house.”

You gasp incredulously, your hand over your heart in painful offense. “The baby is very hungry! She's related to you and that belly.”

He only remembers to stop himself from reminding you that your belly is much bigger than his now. 

"The baby—“ (that was the new thing now: the baby  this baby that. The baby is why I need this shirt in blue and green. The baby is why I need the ice cream layered horizontally not stacked vertically. The baby —)

"No. Not the baby,” he snaps. “You."

You start to cry. "I thought I AM your baby!!!" 

He gives you a “seriously” look and you stop the fake tears.

“So how about it?”

“I don’t want you getting salmonella.”

“ugh fine. You can bake them I guess.”

He’s about to protest the idea of any dough going into your body, cooked or raw, but knows its going to be a lost cause.

Joel makes you a platter of Assorted cookies: chocolate chip, fudge, triple chocolate, sugar, and oatmeal raisin.

You clap your hands as he carefully places the little plate atop your bump. Humored by the custom “mini” table you’ve got going on now. Maybe his baby doesn’t like her head being used as a countertop, but with the way you close your eyes and moan after biting into the chocolate chip, babygirl must be pleased too.

He goes to the bathroom quickly and then comes back only to glare down at you. You've taken exactly one bite out of every single cookie, leaving crescent shapes for him to scathe.

Every cookie, except oatmeal raisin. You clearly did take a bite ,but spit it out and put the lump back near the undesirable #1 cookie.

“These mine?” Joel asks bemused.

You nod happily. You felt very proud to have enough control and leave him some this time! 

-

It’s about 9:30 pm. You're acting drunk and woozy even tho you're just a new level of tired and achy

"Woopppoooooo!!! Paaartttaaayyy!" You shout with fists in the air, drinking down a shot glass of sugar water. 

“Alright party Momma. It’s bedtime.” 

"Ppfffttt! No old man! Dont steal my fun.”

Joel stands over the couch, blocking your view from the TV, his hands on his hips. “You're being difficult "

“YoU’rE bEiNg DifFicUlT,” you mock and wave him off. "Oop I need to pee. Help me up.”

Joel” grabs both your grabby hands and hoists you up to your feet. “Now up the stairs, you.”

You waddle towards the stairwell, one hand cupping your lower back. Joel is right at your heel. you up at the treaturous journey ahead, all 8 steps to the top floor. Cracking your neck side to side, you wave your arms over to the handrail and begin: “Left foot. Right foot. Left. Fuck. Fuck stairs. Who invented stairs. Left foot…”

Joel’s so sleepy that he nearly falls forward. And he knows you would not take too kindly to him ramming his face into your ass as you battle your worst enemy.

Finally to the top, you scurry over like a penguin to the bathroom. He fears the long night ahead, with all the sugar swirling in your system undoubtedly going to keep him up.

He rubs his wears eyes. Startled when a moment later you’re right next to him by your side of the bed, patiently waiting for him to help you up.

"Get in the covers,” he hums with exhaustion.

But you don’t move. “No"

"Now.”

"I want an orange.”

"No. You—you just had your snack."

"That was the baby's snack. I want MY snack”.

Dear Christ almighty, bless me with a boy next time so that I have a fighting chance against her and mini her. “If I get you an orange, will you go to bed?" He asks irritably, his voice enunciating each word to ensure the contract that he’s making with you right now is solidified on both ends of the bargain.

You think it over before nodding with a little innocent beam. 

You crawl into the covers just as Joel descends the stairs once again. It takes the entire time for him to grab some oranges, a peeler, and paper towel just for you to rotate your middle and sit your ass in bed.

You sit up against the headboard and clap your hands, so excited when he reappears with the goods. He puts the towel on your mini-table bump and plops one orange atop.

Joel sighs and begins to walk towards his side of the bed, but is haunted when you clear your throat for his attention.

“Yes?”

"Peel it.”

He tries not to visibly roll his eyes before he's opening the round orange with his large fingers and clubbed nails. Everything smells like nectarine now.

Picky as can be, you peel off the extra dried white veiny bits and suck on each pod of the orange.

You expect a sweet simpleness to squirt on your tongue, but instead, a sour, bitter, unripe taste floods your mouth. “Ugh these are gross, now I want—“

Joel closes his wardrobe drawer, his shirt off and only halfway down to his boxers. “NO. NO means fucking NO. I’M TIRED. YOU’RE TIRED. WE'RE GOING TO BED. NOW,” he barks sternly into the mirror. His shoulders huffing from such aggression without being able to look at you.

You throw the covers off, orange skin and slices flying everywhere.

“Fuck you! I want ice cream! I want bananas and steak and potatoes and tacos and—!" 

-

He bares his teeth in a snarl, deep angered eyes casting downward with each poignant rut. “You're so annoying, so goddamn spoiled,” he grunts. His huge hands are wrapped around the top of your head and  cupping your jaw and bulging cheek, keeping you in place as he pushes his length into your mouth over and over again. “You’re gonna do shit when I tell you, the first time I say—shit—fuck there we go—gonna listen—unnggghhfff—listen ta me from now on. Just be my good little silent. Slutty. Pregnant. Wife.”

Your teary eyes are fixed upward at his imposing figure. Feeling each time his tip nudges the back of your throat has you gagging but you can’t pull away to breathe—not that you want to.

“You get—what I give ya—and you be grateful bout it.”

You gargle a moan in agreement. His balls slap against your chin with brutal punches. by this time tomorrow, there will be Joel-finger prints bruising your face and neck.

You love it. You love it when Joel forces you out of the hormonal phase of bossing him around, the endless need to want more and more, no end in sight to your greedy gluttonous desires, until he’s blowing up and blowing off steam using you instead. And it becomes very clear to you how much you just really wanted him this whole time. 

“That’s it—that’s it—you were hungry for my cock weren’t ya? Yeahhhh. Just begging me all night for it. Wanted all that meat for dinner, huh? Couldn’t just come out n’ say it? Your little brain didn’t know what ya truly needed. S’okay, Momma. I’m takin’ care of ya, aren’t I?”

The gluglugglug sounds mixed with strained pitchy whines echo in the master bedroom.

You grip his thighs with your hands to steady yourself, allowing him to abuse your throat. Maybe your knees hurt. Maybe the baby is settling uncomfortably against your lower back, and maybe it’s going to be really difficult to get up from this position in a few minutes. But each thick throb of his length filling your mouth over and over again, the spit slick strings dropping from your lips to your swollen tits, and the dent in your throat from his cock stretching to accomodate his size has your swollen pussy dripping into the carpet for more, more, more. 

It’s been at least a week since Joel drained himself. No wonder he’s been so on edge with each demand. Usually marveling how cute you are, but tonight he was at him limit. You were about to get a hefty, Joel Miller sized load filling your belly, and it’s going to be better than any cookie, steak, or orange in the entire world.

He feels the way your lips suction tighter. Your eyes are leaking tears, and he smirks as he brushes his thumb over to collect it. Briefly bringing it to his tongue and sucking on the salty taste before holding your head in place. 

“Shhh-shhhhhhhh. You gonna take it? Shit—shit—fuck yeah you are. Gonna fuckin take what I give ya, that’s right. My sweet wife. Bossing me around. Shit. Love when ya get like this. Known I’m gonna wreck that ass or that pussy or that mouth—all belongs to me. Fuck—fuck—fuuckk—“

His mouth drops into an o, brows drawn tightly together as slams his pulsing member balls deep into your mouth one final time. You choke, eyes wide as the tip of his cock breaches the deepest part of your throat, your nose suffocated by his pubic hairs and the fat of his lower belly surrounding your cheeks. His balls twitch against your lower lip, and you feel it coming. The travel of his seed from his sack, up his shaft along your tongue—a generous spurt of cum finally shooting from his tip and down your throat. You gag with each fat load that he pumps down your esophagus, too much to swallow at once yet having no other choice but to gulp it down quickly. Your face feels hot. He’s cumming endlessly, your mind blanking and eyes feeling blurry.

“Take it, take it, take it, that’s it,” he hisses through clenched teeth.

You nod just a little, hugging your arms around his thick thighs tighter. He grins, humming “That’s my good fucking wife, and throws his head as the last of his pleasure makes its way safely from his sated balls to your full womb.

Joel pulls you off his length gently. You sputter out cum and saliva onto his feet, sucking in air through your lungs like a newborn. 

Joel gets to one knee, his thumb pressed gently under your chin so you look directly at him. He’s got such softness in his eyes again, the ones that just switch on a dime the second he’s satisfied his aggress out on you. 

You’re completely wrecked: snot spit connecting to your nostrils and swollen lips, cheeks warm and eyes puffy and hazy with exhaustion and tears.

“That—mmffffgg!—was—definitely—my—snack,” you rasp with a hoarse voice. A lazy grin spread across your face only briefly as you continue to suck air.

Joel shakes his head before planting a long kiss atop your forehead. his hands glide along your body, and just in time as your knees give way and you’re falling into him. 

If you had half the mind right now, you’d curse him out for scooping you up and carrying you to bed like his once youthful bride, too concerned with the size and weight of your new body putting unnecessary stress on his aging knees and back. But Joel doesn’t protest once. Just watches you with loving eyes as he settles you into the soft bed. His tongue dips to your chest and breasts, kissing and sucking away any remnants of his rough face fucking. His cum, your spit, and fuvk it, even the little snot specks—all of it he cleans up before coming up to your lips. He kisses you softly with gentle pecks, enough to ensure you can still catch your breath. He sucks your lower lip into your mouth before wiping his own with his thumb. You’re calmer now, sated and drifting so close to sleep.

Joel clambers into bed next to you, wrapping his arm under your head and swaddling you close. You instinctively roll into his embrace. Kissing his peck and rubbing your face against him dreamily with soft breaths. “Tha hit ther spert juss rite. Ur da bess, Jol.”

“I know. So are you.” He waits for a reply, but nothing comes from you. “Are you goin’ into a food coma, baby?”

Your gentle snores answer him, along with the drool now pooling on his peck.

He chuckles and pulls your head into his face, inhaling your scent. Strong, secure, graceful hands caress your big belly. Your very very full belly, the one that he’s not going to envy when it gives you a the tummy ache tomorrow from stuffing it with so much junk food tonight. 

- - - -

Taglist:

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop

[bitchiswild]

Ride

GP Yoo Jimin x F! Reader

Warnings: smut, creampie, racing , and probs other things 🤷‍♀️

Word Count: 6.8k 😟

A/n: A LOT OF PLOT AND A LITTLE SMUT 😭

╭────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╮

The night unveiled the mesmerizing beauty of the city as Karina and I zoomed through its streets. The motorcycle's roar echoed, seemingly announcing our presence to the entire city. Yet, in our youthful spirit, we disregarded it. Karina had injected adventure and excitement into my life, making every moment extraordinary. She's what makes my days and nights awesome, always bringing joy. I gotta thank Aeri for introducing me to Karina, even if we didn't hit it off right away.

•·················•·················•

“Wanna come along?” That’s all she said. Life always seems to dangle something new in front of me. Aeri pitched this idea, and I had no clue what was in store. Mysterious. But I trusted her completely; she’d been hustling and making some cash. It was our little secret. A game where the risk just added spice to the thrill. Kind of sketchy but exhilarating, you get me?

“You sure this is the right way?” I asked cautiously. We were heading down these shady, dimly lit stairs where the lights flickered oh-so-slowly."

"Yeah, I know the way. Been here a few times, no sweat!" she assured me, continuing down the steps.

As we got closer to the door, the music’s volume surged. Stepping inside, the booming bass hit us hard. The place was a riot of colorful lights, but there was this pervasive mix of gasoline and weed smell that wasn't too pleasant.

"Is this your usual weekend scene?" I quizzed Aeri.

"No doubt, I do. I'm here to help Karina gear up for her races," she said.

"Are you finally gonna introduce me to this Karina you're always on about?" I inquired.

"Absolutely! I'll take you to her now. Or would you prefer to check out the place first?" she asked.

"Let's take a look around first," I replied.

Aeri gave me the grand tour of this spot. I soaked it all in, kinda interested in this whole new vibe where everything's a bit of a gamble. It's all about the danger and excitement, you know? I find it pretty intriguing. This place, right before the race starts, it's got a vibe. But I did however, noticed how everyone's eyes are on us.

"Hey, what's with all the staring? Starting to weird me out a bit," I mentioned to Aeri, feeling a tad uncomfortable.

"They all know I'm friends with Karina. She's, well, let's just say she's a big deal around here. They call her the 'Queen' of racing," Aeri explained, and it all clicked for me.

"Can we bail, though? Feeling a bit too conspicuous," I suggested.

"Sure thing! Let's get you introduced to Karina; you two will hit it off, I'm sure!" Aeri exclaimed, ready to make the intro.

Aeri dragged me to this garage, all bright and half-open. She went and knocked on it like a maniac. ‘Karina! I'm here! Did you miss me?!’ Aeri shouted at the top of her lungs.

“Aeri! Keep it down! Get in here already,” the girl I figured was Karina snapped.

Aeri nudged me to step in first. I crouched a bit and walked into the garage. The garage was alive with various colored lights, yet one glaring light outshone the rest. Posters and tools adorned the walls, while a car occupied one side and a motorcycle sat on the other. The girl I presumed to be Karina was busy fixing something on the bike.

“Karina! Meet my bestie Y/n! Y/n, meet Karina!” Aeri introduced us, gesturing between us."

"Hey, Karina, nice to meet you. Aeri's told me loads about you, and don't worry, I won't spill anything that might get you thrown in jail," I said, immediately regretting my choice of words.

"Hi," was all she replied before returning to her work on the bike, leaving me feeling a bit like a fool.

Naturally, I felt offended. I wanted to confront her, but I held back. I hardly knew her and picking a fight with Aeri's friend wasn't the right move. It'd make me a lousy friend.

"Don't stress, Y/n. Karina's just... like that. She's very... monotone, but she's cool. Give her some time to warm up to you. Honestly, I didn't spill that I spilled everything about her illegal racing," Aeri explained with an awkward grin on her face.

“ It's fine it didn't bother me," I lied, though it bothered me more than I let on.

"So, Karina, when's your next race?" Aeri asked.

"In about 30 minutes. You heading out or sticking around here in the garage?" Karina inquired.

"Since this is Y/n's first illegal race, I'll probably stick around, cheering you on alongside her," Aeri nudged me while saying that.

"Alright, let's head out. I'm all set," she said, wrapping up the final touches on her bike.

We all made our way out of the garage, heading toward the main event. Karina revved her bike, riding off towards the street where the race would take place. The way people glanced at us left me feeling intimidated. Despite my smile, fear crept in. This was uncharted territory for me.

"Hey, Karina! What's up! Ready to race?! There's a hefty pot riding on you, lots of folks betting," a guy shouted as he approached us.

"Absolutely, BamBam. I'm always geared up to win some cash," Karina replied with a grin.

I never thought this girl smiled, but here she was, flashing a smile in front of me. It was kinda cute.

"Awesome! Just remember to stay safe, can't afford to lose our top racer, aka our 'Queen'," The guy I now know as BamBam added.

"Who's that guy? Her boyfriend?" I asked Aeri in a hushed tone.

Aeri stifled a laugh. "Nah, not her boyfriend. That's her childhood friend. They grew up together, got into street racing, and he's sort of her manager. He always bets on her because he knows she'll win. Also, Karina's gay and has a dick," Aeri explained frankly.

The last sentence caught me off guard and I took a double take at Aeri.

“She has a dick??,” I blurted out in surprise.

"Yeah, she was born with it. Why, wanna hop on it?" Aeri quipped, giving me a smirk.

I was flabbergasted! “What? No way!" I exclaimed.

"Sure, just saying, you're not the only one. Lots of other girls here do too," she casually replied.

"Alright, alright, let's stop talking about her dick," I said, eager to change the subject.

"Stop talking about my what?" Karina chimed in, joining our conversation.

I was horrified. If she overheard our discussion, I'd be mortified.

"Your bike," Aeri quickly interjected, coming to my rescue. "Y/n here was just saying how much she liked it but wanted to stop gushing over your bike."

"Thanks," Karina replied, giving me a stare that made me cough in awkwardness. Why did I suddenly feel so awkward? I needed a shot, maybe ten.

"Anyway, I came to tell you guys that the race is starting soon, so get to your spots. And remember, don't accept drinks from strangers. Have the bartender made you the drink, alright?" Karina instructed us.

Can we grab a drink, Aeri? I seriously need one after that almost-embarrassment," I admitted, fanning myself to emphasize the point.

"Sure thing," Aeri replied, leading me towards the bar.

Once we had our drinks, we headed towards the restricted area where only people acquainted with Karina were allowed. There was a large TV screen displaying Karina, geared up with her helmet on, ready for the race. Her eyes reflected unwavering determination, making me equally certain she'd emerge victorious.

The audio from the scene was clear, capturing a guy beside Karina yelling that she was going to lose. Karina, unfazed, remained focused, displaying even greater determination. A girl emerged onto the street, holding a red flag. Raising her arm, she brought it down swiftly, marking the start of the race.

The race unfolded rapidly. Kai, the guy I just learned the name of, initially took the lead, but as they reached a sharp turn, Karina surged past him. Watching her on the screen, it was evident—she had a natural talent for this. Her movements on the bike were graceful, navigating every turn effortlessly. I finally understood why people bet on her. Yet, watching her gave me a mix of sensations, tingling feelings that I couldn't quite decipher—was it anxiety or something else?

As they approached the finish line, it was a dead heat. Anxiety crept up on me, evident in my shaking leg. I desperately hoped for Karina's victory. Beside me, Aeri seemed absolutely chilled, not a speck of doubt in her eyes. I couldn't help but wonder why she was so composed. "She knows something," I muttered to myself, suspecting that Aeri had an inside track on this.

Right after that thought, Aeri did the exact thing I suspected she knew about. With a simple press of a button, Karina's speed surged, propelling her faster than before, and she breezed across the finish line.

When Karina hit that button, everyone was stunned by the speed she picked up. But as soon as she crossed that finish line, the crowd erupted in cheers. Aeri and I jumped to our feet, cheering, hugging, and bouncing around in joy. Karina had not only won the race but also scored a substantial amount of prize money. BamBam, having won all the bets he placed, was also celebrating his success.

After breaking on her bike and removing her helmet, Karina was engulfed by a swarm of well-wishers. Aeri and I maneuvered through the crowd to reach her. Aeri led the way, offering her congratulations with a pat on the back, while I stood there beaming at her. Our eyes met, and she returned a small grin. For me, that was enough. Her eyes spoke volumes, brimming with excitement and joy.

As things settled, Karina gathered her winnings, and we trailed back to the garage together.

"That was one of your finest races in a while!" Aeri praised.

"Thank you. I really appreciate you guys being there, cheering me on," Karina replied, a grateful expression on her face.

"So, when's the next race?" Aeri inquired.

"In two weeks. I need to get some more parts for my bike, upgrade it, and also visit my mom to give her some money," Karina informed us.

"Speaking of your mom, how's she doing?" Aeri inquired.

"She's still working, despite me telling her to retire. That woman is just too stubborn," Karina replied, shaking her head.

"Just like you," Aeri teased with a smirk.

"Hey! I have my reasons, alright?" Karina retorted with a slight glare.

Before Aeri could reply, her phone rang. 'I'll be right back,' she said before leaving Karina and me alone. 'And now there are two,' I murmured to myself.

"So, Karina, you did an awesome job out there! I was really impressed by how you clutch in the end. I was so anxious the whole time, rooting for you, and I just wanted you to win and I was so worried—" I started to ramble.

"Y/n!" Karina exclaimed, gripping my shoulders and staring at me. "Calm down, you're rambling," she urged, trying to rein in my chatter.

Her sudden touch caught me off guard, bringing an unexpected closeness that felt like we were almost within kissing distance. I shook my head, trying to dispel those thoughts. "Sorry... that happens when I feel awkward or anxious," I explained.

She withdrew her hands and kept staring at me. "It's fine, just take a moment. If you need to ease your anxiety, try dunking your head in ice-cold water. That might help," Karina suggested calmly.

"I'll keep that in mind for next time," I replied.

Karina returned to her bike, resuming work by taking parts off, fetching tools and components from her workbench, and moving back and forth between them. Lost in my thoughts, I scanned the garage, wondering where Aeri had vanished to.

"You know, you can sit, right?" Karina's voice startled me out of my reverie. I glanced at her, finding her staring at me and pointing to the chair nearby.

“Oh right, sorry,”I sheepishly grinned in response, taking the hint and finally sitting down. I couldn't help but keep glancing around the garage, occasionally stealing quick looks at Karina. The silence became unbearable, prompting me to break it.

"Do you need any help?" I offered, hoping to engage in conversation.

"Nope," she replied bluntly.

"Can I help you, though? I can't stand this silence, and I want to do something," I persisted.

"You can sit and be quiet," she repeated, smirking as she glanced up.

I remained silent, pursing my lips and continuing to observe her.

"Please, let me help!" I pleaded, growing desperate to do something.

"Fine, come here," she finally relented. I eagerly approached her, thrilled to lend a hand.

"I'm giving you a very big responsibility, okay? Now, hold the flashlight and don't move," Karina instructed, handing me the flashlight.

I felt disappointed; holding the flashlight was something my dad always made me do, and I often got yelled at for doing it wrong. Nevertheless, I was doing something, and for the next 20 minutes, I held onto it diligently. Finally, Aeri returned from her phone call.

"What the hell?! What took so long?" I exclaimed at her, still clutching the flashlight.

"Y/n, hold the flashlight correctly!" Karina interjected. "Oops, sorry," I apologized and adjusted my grip to hold it correctly.

"Sorry I took so long; it was an important call I can't go into details about right now, but I promise it's nothing bad," Aeri explained.

"Okay, I hope everything's alright," I replied.

"Everything's good. Are you ready to leave? Because I am," Aeri asked.

"Yeah, I'm ready," I confirmed, turning off the flashlight and handing it back to Karina.

"Alright, let's go. Bye, Karina! See you soon!" Aeri called out as she exited the garage.

"Bye, Karina, till then," I called out. As I began to duck my head under the garage door, I caught her saying goodbye.

"Bye, Y/n," I heard Karina's voice say as she continued tinkering with her bike.

"Alright, let's head back to our dorm. Don't worry, you'll be back; this is just the beginning," Aeri reassured me as we made our way back toward the stairs we came from.

•·················•·················•

It's the following day, and a strong urge pulls me to return to the garage. I'm not sure why I feel this way, but the desire is there. After getting ready, I head towards Aeri’s room to check if she's around, but her neatly made bed indicates she's probably left for class.

Deciding to go on my own, I recall the location and remember that Aeri had sent me the address. Gathering my belongings, I leave the room and start walking towards the destination.

I'm in the stairwell, making my way down toward the familiar door Aeri had led me through. As I approach, I notice the music still blaring, but today, the neon blue lights replace yesterday's vibrant colors. I glance around before heading toward Karina’s garage.

Suddenly, a random guy yells, "Hey, Beautiful! Come over here and sit on my lap!" I choose to ignore him and keep walking.

"Come on, I know you heard me! Come here!" he yells out again, this time patting his lap in an insistent and uncomfortable manner.

"No thanks, I'm good," I firmly replied, trying to maintain my course toward Karina’s garage.

But, as expected, the guy persists and ends up blocking my way. I look up at him, my expression blank, while he grins down at me. "Can I help you?" I retort, my arms crossed and an attitude evident in my tone.

"Yea, I asked you to do something but you didn't," the musty guy states.

"Yea, I know," I respond bluntly.

"You know... I don't take no for an answer," he declares, his tone suggesting an intent to push the issue.

"And? I do not care," I reiterated, my arms remaining crossed.

He made a move to reach for my arm, but thankfully, a familiar voice intervened. It was Karina. I felt a surge of relief; I was beginning to get anxious at the thought of him grabbing me.

"Nate, what are you doing?" Karina's voice addressed him directly.

"Karina! Hey! I was just trying to get this beautiful lady to sit on my lap and do other things if you know what I mean," Nate replied with a suggestive wink, trying to play it off.

Karina's expression turned serious. "Actually, she’s with me, and she is off-limits. I do not want you anywhere near her," Karina asserted firmly, setting a clear boundary.

"How come? I'm just having some fun," Nate retorted with a smirk, clearly not taking Karina's instructions seriously.

"I don't care. She’s off-limits. Now leave!" Karina's tone grew firmer, her frustration evident.

"Yea, sure, see you around, beautiful," Nate said, smirking as he began to walk away.

Karina gripped my hand firmly, concern evident in her eyes. "Are you okay? What are you doing here by yourself? Do you realize that if I wasn’t here, things could've gone bad? You can’t be here without me or Aeri, got it?" She guided me towards her garage, still holding my hand.

"I know. I'm sorry. I promise not to come here without you or Aeri," I assured her.

"You didn't answer my question. Why are you here?" She pressed for an explanation.

"I just wanted to continue helping you with your bike. Also, I had no class today, so I decided to come here," I answered honestly.

"You came all this way just to help me with my bike?" she asked incredulously.

"Yeah, why not?" I replied casually.

Karina chuckled in disbelief. "Okay, fine, you can help. Let's get started," she agreed.

And so, that's what we did. I began coming by every other day or whenever I had free time to assist her in preparing her bike for the upcoming race. Over time, we started enjoying each other's company, engaging in light conversation. However, we hadn't broached certain topics—things I wanted to know, like why she started street racing. I chose to keep those questions to myself, saving them for another day.

One such day, I had no class and was free. I had Karina’s number now, so I texted her beforehand that I was heading to the garage. She mentioned she'd meet me at the door, and true to her word, that's where she was. We walked together towards the garage, and she let me enter first before following. "So, what are we working on today?" I inquired.

"Nothing, because we are finished!" she announced with a grin, a familiar expression that I had come to adore over the past two weeks. That grin, when directed at me, felt unlike any other.

"Really? You finished it?" I asked in amazement.

"No, we finished it," she corrected, her grin turning into a warm smile.

I mirrored her smile. "Does that mean we get to go on a test drive?" I was thrilled at the prospect of riding the bike after investing so much effort into it.

"Of course! Here, let me get you a helmet," she offered, fetching one for me. She returned, placing the helmet on me. The visor was closed, but a simple click opened it, and suddenly, Karina was gazing into my eyes.

"There you are, hi!" she greeted with a grin.

"Hi back," I replied, returning her greeting. She continued to gaze at me for a moment before turning to retrieve her own helmet, securing it in place. Walking over to her bike, she mounted it first, signaling for me to climb on behind her.

Once I was on, I instinctively held onto the sides of the bike, but Karina guided my arms around her stomach, encouraging me to wrap them securely. I held on tightly, feeling the firmness of her toned stomach, grateful that she couldn't see my blushing face.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

"Of course," I replied, trying to mask any hint of nervousness in my voice.

She ignited the engine, and it roared thunderously, the sound reverberating throughout the garage. As she opened the garage door, the engine revved, and we surged out. The speed we gained made me hold onto Karina even tighter, a sudden fear gripping me.

In my helmet, I heard her voice. "You okay back there?" she inquired.

"Wait, how am I hearing you so clearly?" I asked, puzzled.

"There's Bluetooth connected to the helmets," she explained.

"Ah, that’s nice. And to answer your question, yes, I am okay, just a bit scared at the speed we're going," I confessed.

"Do you trust me?" she asked.

"Yes," I replied without hesitation.

"Then everything will be okay," she assured me, continuing to ride out of the tunnels and onto the main road.

As we navigated through the city, Karina's voice came through the helmets. "I want to take you somewhere, will you let me?" she asked.

Her proposal made my heart melt; it was a simple yet profound request. "Yes, take me wherever you want to go," I responded.

"Okay, thank you," she replied, steering toward her chosen destination.

We ascended a hill with a breathtaking view of the city, but Karina kept driving until we reached our final stop. She parked the bike, removing the key, and got off first. Extending her hand, she helped me dismount as well. "What is this place?" I inquired, following her closer to the view.

"It's a place where my dad brought my mom to confess his feelings to her. It was his spot, and even before that, it belonged to my grandma. After my dad passed away, my mom brought me here because I couldn't get over his death. She shared all their stories with me, and we laughed and cried together," Karina explained, her voice carrying the weight of memories.

I hung onto her every word. Karina paused for a moment before continuing.

"She also told me to come here whenever I feel stressed out or just need to connect with my dad in a way. So that's what I did. I was here last night, seeking guidance. I asked him if I should go forth with something, and I got the answer I wanted," she said, smiling warmly at me as she spoke.

Karina's revelation left me speechless. I sensed there was more she wanted to express.

"There’s another thing Mom told me about this spot. She said if I wanted to confess my feelings to someone, I should come here. It’s a place special to me, where my dad and grandma did the same in the past," she explained, her gaze fixed on me.

My heart raced at her words. She took hold of my hands. "Y/n, over the last two weeks, my feelings for you have grown. It started when I saw Nate getting too close to you. I realized then that I’d do anything to keep you safe. I've cherished every moment we've spent fixing my bike. I’ve come to realize that I have feelings for you. Please, tell me you feel the same?”

I was taken aback by her confession, my mind racing as I processed her words and the depth of my own feelings.

I was taken aback. Karina's confession of her feelings caught me by surprise, but it filled me with joy to know that the emotions were mutual. With heartfelt honesty, I replied, “Karina... from the moment your smile caught my eye, I felt something special. The time we've shared, every moment, it's made my feelings grow stronger. I do feel the same way. I'm grateful you feel it too.”

As Karina's hand cupped my cheek, her touch was gentle yet filled with longing. Our gazes locked, conveying emotions words couldn't express. I leaned into her touch, feeling the warmth of her hand against my skin. In that silent exchange, the air thickened with anticipation. We moved closer, our bodies drawn together by an invisible force. When our lips finally met, a surge of electricity ran through me, setting my nerves on fire. My heart raced with a mix of excitement and nervousness, mirroring the intensity I sensed in Karina. Every heartbeat seemed synchronized, creating an unspoken harmony between us. I withdrew my hand from hers, instinctively wrapping both around her neck, drawing her closer and intensifying the kiss. Simultaneously, her hand moved to the side of my stomach, tracing gentle, reassuring circles. The passionate exchange stirred a whirlwind of emotions between us, each moment pulsating with raw feelings. As the kiss deepened, the need for air became undeniable, forcing us to reluctantly break apart, breathless and exhilarated.

We were both breathing heavily, savoring the lingering sensation of the kiss. I opened my eyes first; Karina's remained closed, a charming smile gracing her face. When her eyes finally met mine, we shared a moment of laughter, both in disbelief and excitement. Karina reached out, taking my hand. "Come on, let's go do something fun," she said, smiling warmly.

I grabbed her hand, and we sprinted back to her bike. She swiftly handed me the helmet, planting one more kiss on my lips before securing the helmet over my head. With her helmet on, she mounted the bike, extending her hand to help me get on. I wrapped my arms around her waist, holding on tightly as she revved the engine and guided us to our next stop.

This time, cruising through the city felt different—carefree, even. I felt lighter, more alive, and undeniably happy, all thanks to the girl in front of me. As we reached Imperial, a nightclub, Karina dismounted first and helped me off the bike. She handed the keys to the valet, grasped my hand, and led me confidently toward the entrance. We bypassed any need for IDs as Karina was familiar with the bouncer.

After arriving, we beelined to the bar for drinks. Shots flowed freely, and we lost ourselves in the music, dancing together all night. Carefree and spirited, we moved to the beats, laughing and enjoying the moment. Eventually, we somehow made it back home, and waking up there, I was grateful that we'd safely returned.

I woke up in a room that didn’t seem familiar, but seeing Karina next to me put me at ease. Glancing around, I noticed a picture of her and BamBam on the nightstand. It was Karina's room. I felt a moment of panic, worrying we'd gone too far last night, but a quick check under the blanket revealed I was fully dressed. I sighed in relief and stole a glance at Karina, peacefully asleep beside me. She stirred, and I found myself captivated by her face. She slowly opened her eyes, catching me in the act.

“What a lovely sight to wake up to,” she said, her morning voice soft and gentle.

I grinned and leaned in for a kiss. She reciprocated, but before it could linger, she broke away. “As much as I'd love to, let me brush my teeth first.”

“Karina, it's fine. Come here,” I insisted, trying to pull her back for another kiss. With a laugh, she evaded my grasp and dashed into the bathroom, teasingly repeating, “No, let me brush my teeth!”

I stayed seated on her bed, chuckling at her playful antics, before eventually rising and making my way to the bathroom. While we brushed our teeth, our playful nudges and giggles made it feel like we were back in high school.

Once we finished brushing our teeth, we moved to her kitchen and decided to make some food. Karina prepared some eggs and toast, a simple yet satisfying breakfast.

“Y/n,” Karina said, breaking the calm ambiance of the morning.

“Yeah?” I responded, looking up to meet her gaze.

Her eyes held a mix of adoration and nervousness. “Will you be my girlfriend?” she asked, her voice slightly wavering.

My heart fluttered in excitement. "I would love to be your girlfriend," I replied, rising from my seat to give her a passionate kiss. She returned it with equal fervor.

Breaking the kiss, she took a deep breath. "There's a race tonight. I want you and Aeri to be there, please," she requested.

"Absolutely, count on us!" I assured her.

"Great! You guys are like my good luck charms in a way, so I need you there," she said, gently rubbing my sides.

The tension was palpable as the night settled in. Karina had her eyes set on a significant prize this time. Winter, her competitor, was no ordinary racer, having secured victories at a level matching Karina's own accomplishments. When I inquired if Karina felt nervous about this race, she assured me of her composure, having previously met Winter, who seemed amiable.

As we arrived at the garage, the atmosphere crackled with a blend of excitement and anticipation. Aeri and I joined forces to help Karina ready her bike, meticulously tuning every detail for optimum performance. Meanwhile, Karina engaged in a serious conversation with BamBam, strategizing about bets and fine-tuning her approach for the upcoming race.

"Think Karina's got this one in the bag?" I asked Aeri, passing her a wrench.

"I'm not entirely certain this time. Winter's no joke. She's a fantastic racer, saw her work before, and it's impressive," Aeri replied, adjusting a tool.

“She’s really that good?” I inquired, surprised by Aeri’s statement about Winter.

“She’s just as good as Karina,” Aeri confirmed.

Karina returned after her conversation with BamBam, drawing me in for a quick peck to express gratitude for cleaning her bike. Before I could respond, Aeri interjected playfully, demanding her own acknowledgment for the help she'd provided. Karina indulged her with a forehead kiss, a smirk playing on her lips.

Aeri teased about being the matchmaker, observing Karina and me embracing each other. As the moment of the race arrived, BamBam's booming voice signaled Karina to prepare, redirecting everyone's attention to the impending competition.

“Alright guys, let's go race,” Karina announced, setting the momentum for the upcoming event. As we made our way to the race track, Winter appeared, engrossed in conversation with some acquaintances. Aeri departed momentarily to fetch drinks while I stayed by Karina's side.

Karina sought to park her bike beside Winter’s. “Are you okay waiting here for a bit?” she inquired.

“Yes, I'm good,” I replied as she moved to position her bike. In the meantime, Winter approached me. “Hey, what's your name?” she asked with a smile.

“I'm Y/n, and you’re Winter,” I responded.

“That’s me! So… why is a beautiful girl standing alone by herself?” Winter questioned, her expression playful.

“Oh, just waiting on a friend,” I answered casually, trying to keep things light amidst the anticipation of the race.

“How about this? You and I go somewhere together after the race is done?” Winter proposed, her tone playful.

“Umm-” I hesitated, feeling a rush of panic. Where was Karina when I needed her?

“Oh, come on, I don't bite… unless you want me to?” Winter flirted, her demeanor teasing.

"Karina!" Relief washed over me as she arrived, once again coming to my rescue.

"Karina! This is your girlfriend?" Winter's curiosity was evident in her gaze toward both of us.

"Yes, she is." Karina confirmed, wrapping her arms around me protectively.

Winter eyed Karina's protective gesture and then smirked. "Okay then, your girl is a fine dime. I want to make a bet. If I win, you break up with Y/n, and she comes with me. If I don't, we can act like this conversation never happened," Winter proposed, extending her hand for a handshake.

“Deal,” Karina said, her tone firm, as she shook Winter’s hand.

“Great doing business with you,” Winter said with a smirk, winking at me before strolling toward her bike.

My heart raced with disbelief and hurt. “Karina, seriously? You’re just going to let that happen?” I felt betrayed, hurt that she would entertain such an idea without discussing it with me. I began to turn away, but Karina caught hold of my hand before I could leave.

“Y/n listen to me,” Karina pleaded as she held onto my hand.

I stopped but didn’t turn around. “No way. I can't believe this. You’re willing to throw away our relationship just like that,” I exclaimed, snapping my fingers in frustration. “We haven't even been together for two days, and now you’re betting on me? If you lose, I’m as good as gone,” I said, my anger palpable, trying to control the quiver in my voice.

“I did it to protect you.” Her voice cracked with an unexpected vulnerability.

“Protect me?” I turned to face her, frustration and confusion mixing within me.

“Winter... She’s a ruthless racer, and she’s been known for her tricks off the track. I couldn’t risk anything happening to you. I had to agree, but believe me, I never meant it. You mean more to me than anything else, Y/n. Please, you have to trust me on this.”

Her words struck a chord, but I was still shaken. “How could you make a deal like that without even discussing it with me?”

Karina's expression softened, remorse clear in her eyes. “I know, and I’m sorry. I panicked. Please, I’ll figure out a way. I won’t let anything happen to us.”

I hesitated, the hurt mingling with understanding. “You promise?”

“Absolutely. Trust me, okay?” Karina pleaded, her eyes pleading for forgiveness.

I sighed, torn between emotions but wanting to believe her. “Fine.”

She pulled me into a tight hug. “Thank you, Y/n. I promise, I’ll fix this, I’ll win the race for you.”

“I don't want to discuss it further. Let’s just focus on the race. I’ll be there with Aeri cheering you on,” I said, my hurt evident as I gave Karina a peck on the lips before walking over to Aeri, who had our drinks.

“What happened between you and Karina?” she asked, noticing Karina's sad expression.

“She and Winter made a bet about our relationship,” I explained.

“What kind of bet?” she inquired, eyebrows furrowed.

“If Winter wins, Karina and I have to split so I end up with Winter,” I revealed.

“What? Why would she agree to that?” Aeri exclaimed.

“I have no idea, but she’s asking me to trust her,” I replied.

“Okay, then let's try to trust her.”

The race commenced as Aeri and I fixated on the screen, watching Winter and Karina revving their engines atop their bikes. A girl emerged, brandishing a red flag. As she dropped it, signaling the start, the engines roared to life, and the race began.

Initially, it was a tight competition, neck and neck, but Winter skillfully claimed the lead. Her bike navigated every twist and turn effortlessly, gaining ground with ease. Karina trailed closely behind, mirroring Winter's prowess as they maneuvered through the course.

As the race unfolded, it became evident that Winter's racing skills were formidable, just as Aeri and Karina had indicated. The tension mounted within me as I fervently rooted for Karina to win. My feelings for her grew more pronounced with every twist and turn. I didn't want to end up with Winter; it was Karina I truly cared about.

Karina surged ahead at one point, fueling a flicker of hope, but it was short-lived as Winter swiftly overtook her. They were now neck and neck, closing in on the finish line. Karina managed to match Winter's pace, riding side by side. Both racers shared a momentary gaze, a blend of determination and grit in their eyes, each vying for victory.

My heart raced with anxiety as they neared the finish line. Winter had a slight edge, but Karina's resolve was unmistakable. The atmosphere was electric as they crossed the finish line simultaneously, leaving us all in suspense, waiting for the official outcome.

"Did Winter just win?" I asked myself in disbelief, falling to my knees, hurt by the outcome.

"Wait, wait!" The announcer's voice boomed. "Let's have a replay!"

As we watched the replay, it was clear: Karina's wheel crossed the finish line first. "Karina won!" I shouted in jubilation, Aeri joining in.

The crowd erupted into cheers. Karina removed her helmet, smiling. Winter approached her, extending her hand. "Good race, Jimin," she said.

Karina shook her hand, replying, "Good race, Minjeong."

Overwhelmed with emotion, I ran towards Karina, enveloping her in a tight hug. "You won," I said, still in disbelief.

"I told you to trust me," she said softly.

"I'll always trust you," I replied, pulling her into a passionate kiss.

The kiss was interrupted by Aeri's arrival. "AYYY, Karina!! YOU WON!!" she screamed, rushing to hug her. But then, Aeri punched Karina's arm hard.

"Ouch! What was that for?!" Karina exclaimed.

"That was for accepting the bet," Aeri retorted.

Karina sighed. "At least I won, and it's over now."

"Yeah, it's in the past. Let's focus on the present and work towards the future," I chimed in.

Karina went to collect her winnings, and we all headed back to Imperial to celebrate her victory. Imperial was alive with music, and we lost ourselves in the beats, dancing and reveling in the energy of the night. Karina and I moved together on the dance floor, the heat of the room adding to the charged atmosphere. The way she looked at me sent shivers down my spine, her desire unmistakable.

As our bodies moved in sync, the electricity between us intensified. Karina leaned in close, her voice a seductive murmur in my ear. “You look amazing tonight,” she whispered, her hand tracing a tantalizing path across my skin.

Unable to resist any longer, I pulled Karina closer to me, breathlessly murmuring in her ear, “Let's get out of here.” I could see the immediate spark of desire in her eyes as she eagerly took my hand, leading me out of the club. Outside, she hailed a cab, and within 10 minutes, we arrived at her house.

Pressing against her door, our passion intensified. Karina momentarily paused our embrace to unlock the door, and as soon as it swung open, she pushed me inside before closing it firmly behind us. We resumed our fervent kissing as we made our way upstairs to her room.

Karina shoved me onto the bed and removed her bra and shirt. She returned to kissing me, making tracks with her lips as she kissed down my neck. She broke the kiss and gripped the bottom of my dress,asking for permission to take it off. And I let her. I reached back to unhook my bra when she removed my dress. Allowing it to descend before me. After everything was off, she teased my nipples and kissed every part of my body, leaving as many traces as she could.

With my panties still in the way, she began to kiss her way down my body, reaching closer to my heart.

"Please," I whimpered.

Karina pulled down my panties and planted a kiss on top of them. began removing her boxers and pants. "Anything for you baby.” She muttered.

She gently brushed her cock's head on my pussy. “Fuck baby you’re so wet. Who makes you this wet” Karina Moaned.

"You!" I groaned, "Please, Karina, do something.

She began to break my pussy apart with her cock as she pushed it through my hole. She groaned, "Fuck you're so tight," and began to thrust in me. I felt amazing the way Karina was touching all the right places inside me. "Harder," I moaned.

Karina pounding me harder. We both moaned loudly. I was getting close. “Fuck Karina I’m close” I gasp out.

She groaned, continuing to thrust, "Me too."

I groaned, "Fuck Karina, you feel so good," as tears streamed down my cheeks from the pleasure she was giving me.

"Baby, where do you want it? Karina groaned, "Where do you want my cum?"

I moaned out, "Please cum inside."

Karina pushed herself closer to me. She reached down to my clit and gave it a few rapid circular rubs, and that was it for me.

I cried, "Fuck Karina, I'm cumming."

“Cum for me baby” She husked.

I squeezed Karina’s cock while I came hard. Sending her over the edge, she shoot ropes of cum into my pussy painting my walls white. I groaned at the warmth. Karina stood steady inside me for a second before releasing her grip and pulling out. She takes a deep breath and settles down next me, drawing me very close to her chest.

“Sleep now, beautiful. I’ll see you in the morning,” Karina whispered, planting a gentle kiss on my forehead.

•·················•·················•

“Hey, whatcha thinkin' about?” Karina asked, gazing at me with affection. We had just arrived at our spot. I hugged her tight. “Just thinking about when we first met, that's all,” I replied.

She leaned in for a peck. “Thanks to Aeri, I met the love of my life,” Karina said, smiling.

“Agreed,” I chuckled, drawing her into a kiss.

“I love you, Y/n,” she murmured against my lips.

“I love you too, Jimin.”

╰────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╯

[isaacathom]

have thought about it and i think the key thing about florians gender is that no matter what hes trying to pull he would just look the same. this man is just vibing. maybe in one universe he has tits but its not going further than that

[hanasnx]

MINORS DNI 18+

MODERN!ANAKIN SKYWALKER who's got a bit of a situationship with you. It's not like him, he's very new to it all and its rules, which means some key details get lost in translation with him. For most, the "talking" stage consists of the ability to still see other people during, keeping your options open so to speak. For Anakin, he expects a sort of unspoken faithfulness he had no reason to define until now.

Now, as he stares at two words. "she's busy." A text he's been deliberating over for an inappropriate amount of time. What could possess another person to answer your texts for you? A glance to your contact name confirms it, just in case he was losing his mind. He kinda wishes he was. He taps your name, and calls you. Three rings. An answer on the other line, that is most certainly not you, invades his ears.

"Yo," the deep voice says and Anakin doesn't say a word as he hangs up. Without a second thought, he pulls up your Snap Map which you've stupidly left on. You do that a lot. Sometimes he checks on you only to see what you're up to. Some days he watches your little Bitmoji happy on it's map at that little cafe you like, and he calls you to see if you'll tell him the truth of where you are.

He gets in his car, and tracks you down.

His fingers drum against the steering wheel, just like his fist drums against the front door when he gets there. It shakes the whole fucking house. He takes a step back, resting his hands on his hips, and his tongue forms over his upper lip.

The door opens, and he comes face to face with the guy he presumes texted him, and answered the phone. This is his place. "Can I help you?" he questions with an attitude Anakin doesn't fucking care for at all.

"I don't wanna talk to you, I wanna talk to her." Blunt as ever, Anakin comes off as unstable to your companion, who obviously bucks up in your defense.

"The fuck? No. What do you think this is?" he responds, and the escalation of raising voices causes you to recognize who your friend is talking to. So you come downstairs, and see that familiar head of golden curly hair.

"Anakin?" you question in disbelief, slowing your descent down the stairs. At your arrival, Anakin's attention completely shifts onto you.

"Hey." He nods up. "We need to talk." His finger points to the space in front of him, as if calling you over like a dog. Oddly and subconsciously compelled, you make your way closer to him. Your friend's arm rests on the door frame, cutting in between you two. Apparently he didn’t want Anakin slipping inside. You only notice how much taller he is compared to your friend. If he wanted to, he’d put him on his ass with a well-placed one-handed push. You try not to think about that now as you approach, standing directly behind your friend’s elbow.

“What the hell are you doing here?” At the end of your sentence, Anakin’s massive hand snatches your upper arm, and your friend goes to separate the two of you with a commotion of “woah, woah!” You appease him, tell him it’s alright, that you’ve gotta take care of this, and allow yourself to be drawn away from the door step and closer to the street.

Once he has you where he wants you, he releases you, and you jostle from the loss of support. That hand wipes down his face, the most irritable you’ve ever seen him, and he gestures to you as he steps closer, “If you’re pulling this shit, let’s just call it.” he tells you, dismissing entirely the existence of the man who owns this house.

The crease in your brows deepen. “I don’t know what you’re talking about—“

“You do, and if I’m competing with other guys I don’t want any fucking part in it.” The towering figure before you stoops to get eye level with you, “Either get smart or fuck off, alright?” You hate to say that his low voice sends shivers down your spine.

His direct ultimatum makes you indignantly blink at him, taken aback at his sheer tenacity as you weigh out the options. He doesn’t give you enough time, scoffing at you, and turning his back on you. As if he could be so bold as to expect to be the only one you’re talking to, expect to treat you this way.

And yet, somehow, you end up back at his place. Impossibly fat cock driving into your insides as he picks you up by your hips into his thrusts. Knelt onto the bed, he rocks forward, while your cervix is getting bruised into submission. You squirm, arching your back off the bed with your pretty legs stuck straight into the air. “Who’s fucking pussy is this, huh? Who’s fucking pussy is this?” Skin smacks skin, harder than before. His tongue forms over his upper lip, brows pinched in focus as he fucks you like he means to beat you into the shape of his dick.

You don’t even hesitate. “Yours!” You whimper. “Yours, Ani, all yours.” You’re lifted almost entirely off the mattress, he straps his hands over your thighs to keep your ass pinned to his abs that sheen with sweat. Cunt stuffed to the brim as he relentlessly bullies it, creating an empty fucking vacuum that screams at you every time he pulls out. You really are fucking obsessed with this entitled behemoth of a man and what he can do to your body in a few strokes.

“That’s fucking right, baby, and don’t you forget it.”

[jamesroach]

whatre your thoughts on younger fandom mem8ers (like those who are under 18) and how they interact with homestuck just as a whole? im a 8it curious ::::)

i was the youngest of all my (5) siblings, but like with any big family there are like.. age group generations. my siblings were all much older than me so despite being the youngest, in my "generation" i was one of the oldest of all the cousins. This will make sense to some, probably especially if you are hispanic.

So I've always kind of been around younger people. This is what pushed me to want to be a music teacher. Taking the guidance and lessons I got from my older siblings/cousins/uncles/aunts/etc and giving it to a new generation.

Now that i'm middle aged and my bright young idealist teaching days are far behind me, i find myself again in a position where i am surrounded by younger people. While I have little interest in interacting with children on a personal level I do think that its important to understand that they're just kids. You have to treat them with what my teachers called compassionate regard.

What this means is remembering that sometimes they will mess up, or sometimes have sort of stupid ideas, or they'll say weird and often kind of mean things and not just think about it. They're just kids. When you're a kid you test your boundaries and figure out who you're trying to be. To quote homestuck itself:

As an adult, it is your job to know better and try to be kind even if they are being sort of a little weirdo. Whether they know it or not, kids are seeing how you react or engage. If you're setting a bad example by being a shithead how can you expect them to be any better?

What I do, is I try and establish clear boundaries. "please don't do that." etc. If a young person says something especially rude or weird to me, tell them clearly not to do that. It doesn't have to be a whole ordeal. You don't have to make fun of them or shit on them. If its something that needs course correcting you can just privately say "hey don't do that."

thats all a little heavy handed too though. not every moment is a LEARNABLE LESSON or w/e. i think you have to balance that sort of thing with just rolling with it. sometimes some little bastard dunks on you because you're a boomer online and you just gotta go like, damn you fucking got me. sometimes you gotta riff on the bit. sometimes a kid will have a really stupid take online and your first reaction cant be "i gotta own this idiot" they're like 15 man let it go. you beefing with someone who has to ask permission to go to the bathroom its not that deep.

anyway this got really long, and i dont even know if i answered your question. forgive me i am old.

[etherealxwitch]

warnings: cnc, ghostface!eddie, reader being chased, degradation, teasing, begging, pet names, name calling, mentions of a knife kink, public sex, creampie

Corner after corner, you look for a hiding place to take a breather. What you thought would be a nice night out took a turn when a masked man took a great infatuation with you. You were separated from your friends and all the other groups wanting to enjoy the haunted house. At first, you thought this was normal, but now you were away from everyone, and it wasn’t normal.

“Did you really think you could get away that easily?” You were pushed against the wall, trapped between it and the man in the Ghostface mask. “A pretty girl like you should’ve thought better.”

You looked up at him, barely able to see the wickedly dark glint in his eyes because of the mesh of the mask. Words were trapped in the back of your throat as he kicked your feet apart and placed his leg between yours, pressing it right against your cunt.

“Have you been this wet all day? You’re starting to make a mess.” His voice was low and a bit raspy, speaking next to your ear. “Or do you just like being manhandled?”

“I-“ You shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as you are, but the feel of his leg flexing against your cunt has your skin starting to sweat and your mouth going dry.

A rough hand ran up the sides of your body, forming goosebumps in its way before stopping at the base of your head and pulling your hair. “I knew I picked the right girl from your group, knew you’d be the perfect slut to let me do whatever I want.”

“No…” You tried to shake his head, but he only pulled harder, making you wince in pain (and a little bit of pleasure). “I-I’m not a slut.”

“So that isn’t your clit throbbing that I feel?” With his other hand, he quickly pushed past your pants and panties, quickly finding your clit. “God damn, sweetheart. You’re fucking soaked.”

There was no denying it now, not with his fingers toying at your clit, running slow figure eights on it. You tried your best to hold back the moans, biting your lip so hard that blood hit your tastebuds.

“Don’t be shy, baby.” His fingers dipped lower, teasing your hole as it clenched around nothing. “No one will know that you’re screaming over my fingers scissoring you open. I gotta get you ready for my cock, don’t I?”

You whined at his words, your whole body betraying you. “Please… don’t.” You weren’t putting up the best fight. Your body knew what it needed, and so did you.

He turned you around and pressed your face into the wall. “Stay still, got it?” You heard him unzip his pants before he pulled down yours enough to have your cunt out. “I wanna hear how pretty you scream with my cock deep inside you.”

Without warning, he slid into the hilt. His heavy balls pressed against your clit. It took you by surprise how fast he was, your eyes rolling in the back of your head.

“Fuck- such a tight pussy.” He grabbed your hips and fucked you up and down on his cock, his eyes never leaving where he disappeared inside you.

Thrust after thrust, your head became fogged from how good his cock felt, filling you up with every inch of it.

“Y-yes! Right there!” You couldn’t think about how wrong this was when the tip of cock dragged perfectly against your g-spot.”

“That’s it, keep squeezing my fucking cock.” He brought his head down to the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. “Maybe I should’ve- shit- brought my knife and carved my initials into your pretty skin, make you remember this night forever.”

You moaned loudly over his words, your eyes closing as your legs began to shake. “Oh- oh my fucking god.”

“You gonna cum already?” He brought his hand down in a swift spank, the skin of your ass sting. It had incoherent words falling from your lips. “Pathetic.”

You don’t know if it’s being able to feel every vein of his cock as he fucks into you so hard that you’ll see bruises from his hips tomorrow morning or if it was the way he called you pathetic, but you couldn’t hold your orgasm back any longer.

Your back arched as you dragged your nails down the wall, and pornographic screams fell from you as your orgasm shook every inch of your body. “Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop- please!”

“Soak my cock, sweetheart.”

“E-Eddie!” You couldn’t keep up the act anymore, not when you were cumming so hard.

“God fucking dammit- I’m gonna cum, baby.” His head rolled back as the clenching of your cunt spurred on his own orgasm, pumping you full of his cum. “Take every fucking drop.”

“You feel so fucking good,” you could feel him fill you up, giving you everything he had. “Thank you, thank you.”

After taking long enough to catch his breath, he pulled out of you, watching his cum leak from your used hole. You both fixed your clothes in silence (apart from the screams of scared people coming from hallways over).

“You seemed actually scared there for a moment.” Eddie took off the mask before pulling you into his arms and resting his chin on top of your head. His lips swollen from all the biting he must’ve done while he was deep inside you. “I had to catch you off guard.”

“Trust me, you really did.”

He lifted your chin with his fingers and kissed you slowly, tugging on your bottom lip. “Who knew you’d be such a slut for public sex.”

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR FIVE

in which eddie munson and you absolutely hate each other's guts. what happens when your friends make a bet that you can't spend more than twenty four hours consecutively together?

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, eventual smut, upside down does not exist, harassment/cat calling, minors dni

→ pairings: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader

→ wc: 6.1k+

→ a/n: shout out to @abibliophobiaa for helping me figure this chapter out lol.

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

5:00 ───ㅇ─────────────── 24:00

HOUR FIVE - 8:00 PM

Civility. What a fragile construct. 

You and Eddie are hyper aware of its presence as the minutes pass. It’s a glass wall between the two of you, offering false security and fragile mediation. When he brings up dinner, and there’s no sign of agreement any time soon as he wants the opposite of every suggestion you make, you catch your reflection in it, reminding yourself to carefully think over your words. Every insult manages to catch in your throat, to simmer until softened to something appropriate. And you know he’s doing exactly the same thing as his pauses begin to drag out between replies, as you lose count of the number of times he’s opened his mouth only to immediately snap it shut. 

It works, though. Even with the weight of the agreement in the room, the wall takes the pressure in stride. There’s not a single crack emerging. 

Eddie still sits on the couch with you, this time the TV is turned on to some cable show rerun that has turned into background noise for the two of you. 

He never moved back to the opposite end of the couch. One wrong move, and your thigh could easily press into his, sink into the warmth that radiates from him. It’s all you can think about as he is trying to convince you that the Lord of the Rings books are worth reading, especially if you enjoy the movies. 

If it were any other day, you wouldn’t have noticed when he cuts off suddenly. You would have stopped listening long ago. Which is a shame, not that you’d admit it, because he actually had interesting points to make. 

“What?” you scrunch your nose as his stare hardens across the room, at something by the TV. Suddenly, the almost-glare blooms into delight, and you can’t breathe. 

“We’ve managed to be civil for a whole forty-five minutes.”

You finally follow his gaze and realize he had been looking at the small cable box, blinking blue numbers on the front screen reading the time. 

“Oh,” you say softly, fighting a grin to match his current one, “Yeah, we have been. That’s gotta be a new record.” 

It hadn’t been easy, but it had been doable. Maybe the hours could continue to be less doable. 

“You know, I thought you would have told me to shut up about my nerd shit by now,” he muses, bringing a hand up to carefully rub at his stubbled chin, legs spreading a bit further as he remains reclined into the cushions beside you. 

His knee brushes yours. You still haven’t found your breath that had escaped you from watching his eyes light up in realization. 

“I came pretty close,” you tease and nearly lean in, nearly pressing your knee harder into his. 

It was becoming too easy to act this way with him. You try to think of a time you’d ever given this such room to breathe. But you draw nothing but blanks, save for the first night you’d met Eddie. A night that had been blossoming with buds of hopefulness and blind optimism that had been cursed to die on the vine. 

Although, maybe not all of them had died. There might have been a few dwindlers, and they might have found themselves finally watered after such a harsh winter between the two of you in the revelation of fragile civility these last forty-five minutes. 

“Was it when I went on my ten minute rant about how cool it would have been to bring up werewolves in the movies? Or was it my passion for Samwise being a singer?” your head falls back in gentle laughter, closing your eyes for a second. He goes as far as to nudge your shoulder with his own, “Come on, I’m serious! I do hear myself sometimes, you know. I know when I’m being Lord of the Dorks over here.” 

Your shoulder burns where he had bumped it. Not from pain. 

Your eyes are still closed as you shake your head, “No, no. I think I actually agree with the werewolves, but I’m still on the fence about turning the movies into musicals.” 

When you finally do open your eyes, head rolling to face him and press your cheek atop your burning shoulder, you find him staring at you. Which would have been fine, no big deal, if he was still grinning vibrantly. 

He’s looking at you with an unfamiliar emotion, an emotion you’d not only never seen him look at you with, but any of your shared friends. It’s almost as if he’s no longer in the room with you.

You’re immediately worried you’ve offended him, “Oh, shit. Are you into musicals? I’m sorry, I tried to get into them, but I just-”

“I am,” the emotion drains from his eyes as he snaps back to reality, “I… But I mean, I get it. Not everyone is into musicals, I was just a theater kid.” 

“A theater kid?” your worry is long gone as you sit up, looking at him excitedly, “No way. I would have never guessed that you, Eddie Munson, the most dramatic person I know, were a theater kid.” 

He looks down bashfully, and his curls form a curtain around his face. His dimples are effectively hidden as he shyly smiles, and you’re kind of glad for it. “Shut up. Buckley’s more dramatic than I am. Have you ever heard her go off on one of her rabies rambles?” 

“Of course. She was also a theater kid.” 

“Oh, trust me - I know. We’ve bonded.” 

The conversation dwindles, but the ghost of the dimples don’t. He tucks some of the stray strands of the curtain behind his ear, and you start to regret ever noticing the damn things. 

“We never decided on dinner, you know,” you blurt out and change the topic, because you desperately need something to distract you right now. You’re starting to believe you might prefer arguing with him to whatever storm was building beneath the surface of civility.

“Oh, shit,” he gasps, turning to look at the clock again, “You’re right.” 

Never thought I’d hear you saying that to me of all people, you bite back from saying. 

“Most places are closing soon,” he murmurs, more to himself than you, surely thinking back on the way you couldn’t come to an agreement earlier. If you dived back into that, you’d probably spend the rest of the night bickering. But then he lights up again, just as he had when he’d realized your record-breaking streak of civility, “Say, you like bar food?” 

—

“Eddie, I really can’t afford overpriced bar food!” 

“And I already said I’d pay for you.”

“What about our photo proof? We were supposed to send it ten minutes ago.” 

“You texted them mentioning we’ll be a little late with it, right?” 

“Yeah, but-” 

“Then it’s fine.” 

The entire ten minute walk from Eddie’s apartment to what he claims is his favorite bar in town had been filled with the endless bickering, still managing to be lighthearted enough to not cause any cracks in the civility. 

He’d chastised you about making excuses, and you hated him, because he was right. Every issue you’d brought up about going to the bar with him had been easily solved with one of his solutions. You were grasping for straws at this point.

Because you were nervous. Nervous that civility wouldn’t hold up in public, nervous that if alcohol was added to the equation that tongues would get too loose. 

But none of it mattered. When Eddie initially suggested going to the bar, he’d caught your smile at the idea and realized you two had finally found common ground. He was now a man on a mission. 

“I really don’t want you paying for me,” you huff as he holds the door to the bar open for you, motioning for you to enter before him. 

“It’s really not that expensive, you can pay me back later if you really want,” he waves off, “Buy me a drink or something while we’re here, even.” 

You’d always witnessed Eddie being generous with your friends, always known that he was altruistic as he’d offer to pay for people. Half the time, he never made them pay him back. All he cared about when with friends was everyone having fun. And you’d never been on the receiving end of that — not until tonight. 

He bumps into you when you stop just a few steps into the bar’s entry, glancing around the small room. It wasn’t much, two pool tables set up on the far end of the building, a full bar taking up most of the space inside. You could see some sort of jukebox sitting unplugged in the corner and several booths were occupied with patrons already. 

It was cozy. It wasn’t going out of its way to impress anyone, and it’s probably why you’d never come inside before. From the outside, you hardly were able to decipher it was a bar, especially in the darkness of the night. 

“Sorry,” you turn to apologize, his hands feather light on your biceps to make sure you didn’t stumble from the force of his impact.

He waves it off just as he had waved off your concerns of him picking up the bill for the night, focusing instead on your reaction, “You like it?”

“It’s… nice,” you offer with a shrug as he guides you to the bar. There definitely weren’t any open tables; it was a Saturday night, and even if the place was capable of giving off quaint vibes, there was an abundance of college students who had the same idea as you and him had. 

None of them were locked into the same agreement as you two, though. You were sure of it.

The bartender greets Eddie by name, beaming as he promises he’ll come over with his usual soon. 

“Wow,” you laugh, lifting yourself onto a stool beside him, “You weren’t kidding about it being your usual hangout.”

“I swear I’m not an alcoholic or anything,” he rushes out, “I just… I dunno. Like you said, it’s nice here.” 

You couldn’t believe it. If you dared to look into his words further, you’d swear that Eddie was trying to avoid tarnishing your view of him. He’d never cared about that before.

“I wouldn’t judge you,” you say once the two of you have settled into your seats. Stools were never going to be more comfortable than a booth, but it would do for the next hour. “If you were an alcoholic. I mean, we’re college students. Kind of part of the whole gig,” He looks at you and quirks an eyebrow as he grabs one of the menus from the sticky wood surface in front of you two, “Every college student can be promised three things: unimaginable debt for a stupid piece of paper, the ability to run off of far less sleep than anyone ever should, and a terrible reliance on alcohol.” 

He rolls his eyes and mumbles, “You’re funny.” 

The surviving buds on the vine nearly prepare to bloom, just about ready to untuck themselves from your chest and press against the glass wall of civility. 

“Say it again.”

“What?”

“That I’m funny,” your biting grin is infectious, “Tell me again and stroke my ego, big boy.” 

He flushes pink on the apples of his cheeks, bright and furious even under the dim lighting of the bar, “Oh, fuck off. I’m never complimenting you again.” 

Your newest enemies, those fucking dimples, and the way the blush spreads as he glances down at the menu suddenly become too much. The combination has the ability to choke you, to possibly make your heart stop, if it isn’t for the bartender finally interrupting the moment. 

“Hey there, Eds,” the man not much older than the two of you greets, looking at you with unbridled curiosity, “And… lady friend of Eds.” 

You don’t know why, but you tell the stranger your name. Sweet and low, soft spoken compared to the way you had just been blatantly teasing the boy at your side. 

“Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he chimes with the type of charisma you’re familiar with when it comes to the food industry. You didn’t make tips if you weren’t kind, if you weren’t borderline flirting with nearly every customer by overflowing with friendliness and compliments, “So, I’ve got your regular here,” he places a glass in front of Eddie, something dark with a few sparse bubbles, “What can I get for you, though?” he turns to you. 

You glance over at the menu Eddie holds, and he shifts it so you can see it better. But as your eyes glance over the drink options, nothing grabs your attention. 

“Full bar, right?” you feel a bit foolish as the man waves behind at the large wall filled with bottles of a variety of alcohol. Duh. “You know how to make an amaretto sour?” 

The man grins widely, nodding enthusiastically before turning to Eddie, “She’s got good taste. I’ll be right back with it for you, hun.” 

The moment the bartender leaves, Eddie is leaning in closer to you, mimicking you in a falsetto, “Full bar, right?”

His cologne is nice. Something spicy, almost musky. Fitting for him.

You don’t hesitate to shove his shoulder, “Shut up. We’re supposed to be civil, remember?” 

“Ah, I see,” his eyes mischievously glint, enjoying this bout of satirizing far too much, “You can tease me, but I can’t tease you. That sound about right?” 

“Exactly,” you sigh jokingly, unable to look at him, already knowing the smile he’s wearing, “Sorry you didn’t get the first memo.” 

He finally, finally, stops leaning in towards you, and carries the scent of his cologne with him. You decide to lock away that detail of him into the same eternal prison of your brain with the dimples. Another thing about him you need to forget after the twenty fours end. 

“My bad, sweetheart. At least I’m up to date now.” 

You ignore the vine as it tightens at the casual use of the nickname again. There’s no need to dive deeper into that reaction. 

“What’s his name?” you finally look at him, eyes catching on the slope of his nose and sharp jaw in the smoky atmosphere. 

“Who? The bartender?” you nod, and he takes a sip of his drink, “Frank. He’s really nice, looks a lot younger than he is, lucky bastard.” 

“What, you don’t think you’ll age so gracefully?” you’re back to teasing Eddie, because God, is it easy. It’s a perfect medium between the two of you. Still biting, still a little mean, but not harmful. It’s innocent and refreshing, breathing a new wave of novelty into your relationship, wherever it may currently stand.

“Who’s not aging gracefully?” The bartender, Frank, questions as he places your amaretto sour in front of you. You mutter your thanks, “Because if you’re talking about Eds here, you’re right. Think this guy has aged ten years in the six months I’ve known him.” 

Six months? You don’t know why you’re so shocked, but part of you had just figured he’d been coming to this bar for as long as he’d lived in his apartment. Which, to be fair, you didn’t know how long he’d occupied that space, either. It had to have been at least a year. There’s been no mention of him moving the entire time you’ve known him. 

“I have not,” Eddie defends himself, hand gripping his drink. 

“Have too,” Frank ends the argument there, not giving Eddie a chance for rebuttal before he lets his gaze go back and forth between the two of you, “So, any food tonight, or just drinks?” 

“Could we actually get an order of garlic parmesan fries?” Eddie is surprisingly polite, and looks at you after he’s placed the order, “If that’s okay with you?” 

You blink, taken back by his consideration, “Um, yeah. That sounds good.” 

Frank nods, “Fries. Got it. Anything else?” 

Eddie is still looking at you, subtly moving the menu closer to you, as if urging you to help yourself. You pick up the laminated paper, and your knuckles brush against his before you’re glancing over your options.

You curse yourself as your hands shake. You’re not nervous – why are they shaking? 

“Are your mozzarella sticks any good?” you finally ask, peering up at Frank.

“They’re excellent. Also, not to brag, but our marinara is the best in town. I swear it.” 

You look to Eddie, as if seeking out permission, and he nods ever so slightly, “I’ll take your word for it. One order of those, please.” 

“Of course. One order of fries and one order of mozzarella sticks coming right up.” 

With that, Frank leaves you and Eddie on your own again, somehow feeling secluded and alone even on the edges of the bustling room. It’s as if there’s a bubble around the two of you, unbreachable by the strangers that surround you. 

Your phone buzzing in your pocket catches your attention, just as it had done numerous times thus far this night, and you pull it out to see two new notifications from Steve.

STEVE-O: photo. 

STEVE-O: now.

You don’t realize Eddie was reading the messages over your shoulder until he suddenly chuckles, “Jesus, when did Harrington become so demanding?” 

“He’s always been this way,” you mutter as you quickly open your phone, the camera app already being opened from your previously provided evidence, “Consider yourself lucky to not be in the groupchat. His attitude grows tenfold through texts.” 

“Clearly.” 

You turn the phone awkwardly in one hand, choosing to go for a wider shot that captures the bar setting behind you and Eddie. He grabs his glass, holding up his drink as if he’s cheersing the camera. 

You’re about to take the photo, when Eddie suddenly sighs, “Oh, come on. Don’t leave me hanging.” 

His free hand nudges your own drink into your hand, and you take it without complaint. 

You both hold up your glasses, forcing mimicry of annoyed expressions directed at the camera and not each other. 

The moment the click of the photo being taken is lost into the atmosphere of the bar, chatter of nearby strangers and clinking of beer bottles together, Eddie’s attention is fully on you.

“To civility,” he says, moving his glass in a grandiose gesture towards yours. 

You take a second before you register it. You’re too busy mapping out his face beyond the dimples, beyond the wild curls that catch the bar lighting just right, all the way up to the hiding freckle beneath his right eye and the cotton candy shade of pink of his pursed lips. It’s as if you’re pressing your cheeks into the wall of civility between you and letting the glass fog over with your breath. As if you’re just now seeing Eddie for the first time, no cloak of hatred or distortion of annoyance to keep you from his memorizing features. 

You shake your head, try to physically rid your head of the uncharted thoughts before you clink your glass to his, “To civility.” 

—

Maybe civility isn’t such a fragile concept. Maybe, just maybe, it’s a reasonable foundation for yours and Eddie’s night. 

Over garlic parmesan fries and mozzarella sticks, and several refills of your amaretto sour and his Jack & Coke (you’d found that out when you’d ask to try his drink, and had grimaced at the harsh whiskey), you two practice the act of it almost flawlessly. 

Eddie tells you a bit more about the first time he’d wandered across this bar, how he’d been kicked out of a different one earlier that night and simply wasn’t ready to go home yet. Somehow, after the story, once he’s shed his leather jacket to drape over the back of his seat and you find yourself angling your body towards him more fully, the attention focuses more on you meeting the group. 

You both have to lean in closer to each other, what at the beginning of the night should have been too close for comfort, as the bar grows busier. You tell him about freshman year of college, that wretched 8 AM math class that’s only redeeming quality was bringing you and Steve together. He was better at math than you, or at least taking notes on the subject. Somehow, the two of you had ended up in an agreement of being ‘study buddies’, as Steve had nicknamed it. Two years later, after several more deliberately shared classes, Steve had finally decided to introduce the girl he’d been ditching their Thursday movie nights for to the gang. It had started with Robin – she’d been in a Psychology class with you and Steve – and all the pieces fell together from there. 

“I still can’t believe you and Harrington never… you know….” Eddie trails off and downs the last of his third Jack & Coke. When Frank motions from across the bar if he’d like a refill, Eddie shakes his head and covers the top of his glass with his wide palm. 

His rings glinted in the low lights, and your stomach did flips. You blame it on the fourth amaretto sour you were nursing. 

“Oh, trust me,” the alcohol has your lips moving more loosely, giggling between your words, “We definitely thought about it. Even got wine drunk one night our sophomore year and tried it.” 

“What?” Eddie exclaims, leaning so far into your space now that his curls brush your bare shoulders, “No way. No fucking way.” 

“Yes way!” your face grows pink, more from laughter than embarrassment, “It was awful! I mean, in our defense we were both drunk, but still. I just…” you sigh out, and lean back in your stool without even noticing that Eddie has his arm draped over the back of it, “We both realized we were way better off friends. I’m a better wing-woman for him now than some fling.” 

“Don’t let Robin hear you,” Eddie chuckles, popping a fry in his mouth before he relaxes back as well. His arm is still on the back of your chair. “You know, he did talk you up a lot before he introduced you to everyone.” 

“Yeah?” you raise an eyebrow. 

Eddie’s brows furrow as he nods viciously, “Oh, God, yeah. Had us all thinking he was just in denial about having a thing for you.” 

“Well, that’s embarrassing.”

“Nah. Only good things. Besides, once Robin met you? It was game over,” if you had been watching Eddie more carefully, you would have seen that unrecognizable emotion crossing his face once more, glazing over his eyes rather than the alcohol he’d consumed, “They really do love you, y’know?” 

You don’t know. Which is a shame. Because on your good days, you’d usually tell yourself that they do enjoy your company, that you do fit into the group. But doubt had an easy job of having its way with you when Eddie existed, when Eddie seemingly loathes you. 

Your silence answers his rhetorical-turned-serious question, and he’s suddenly leaning forward to catch your gaze, “You do know that… right?” 

Your shrug makes his arm fall off of your chair, not intentionally so. It had simply gotten closer to your shoulders with the time passing, and the movement makes it fall limply to his side. 

“Sweetheart, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” Eddie groans in what you’re realizing is his usual, playful demeanor, “The entire group loves you so much, it’s irritating. Never shut up about you, inviting you to plans, all that shit.”

“You don’t,” your voice is a whisper. 

It’s the first time that either of you had so much as knocked on the glass wall of civility. A gentle tap of your knuckles against an easily forgotten barrier, but a knock nonetheless. 

“What?” Eddie squints, and he’s leaning in closer, and you suddenly feel suffocated again. His cologne is in your nose, his faded dimples are in your vision. You could count his eyelashes if you spared him a quick glance. 

But you don’t. You can’t bear to look at him, because the entire moment is becoming far too vulnerable. 

You clear your throat, “The entire group, except you, loves me. Which, I mean, I get. Not everyone is going to like me, and I’ve sort of been a bitch to you-” 

“You haven’t-” 

“-and honestly, I’ve really played into the fact that I annoy you so much this entire time. You hate me, I hate you-”

“I don’t-”

“-it’s fine.” 

Despite Eddie’s attempted interruptions, you manage to finish your speech, chest heaving by the end of it. He’s stunned, mouth opening and closing multiple times before he finally seemingly collects his thoughts. 

“Look, I know I’ve been an asshole, but I don’t really-” he starts, but you’re quick to cut him off. Unlike when he’d interjected and you’d ignored him, he lets you speak. 

“Eddie, you said you’d celebrate my death,” you smile sheepishly at him, and you can feel that glass barrier shaking. Bringing up something awful, something terribly mean from mere hours ago isn’t a gentle knock on glass. It’s a slapping of a palm, a dare for cracks to start appearing. 

His entire expression falls, “I… That was stupid of me to say.” 

“It was,” you agree, because you’re not sure what else you could say, “It was, but I get it. The feeling’s mutual and all, right?” 

Eddie is quiet. You almost miss his voice, even with all the other tones of strangers bouncing around you. 

“Can I ask why you hate me, though?” you try to keep your tone as light as possible, to not let this moment get any worse. You try to keep your fists from pounding on the glass of civility, “We’ve never really talked about it before. I know you have your reasons – I’ve got mine.” 

His jaw clenches. You can physically see his thought process. He’s probably got a million reasons, and right now, he’s just thumbing through them, trying to find the one that won’t break your agreement of being kinder to each other. 

“You…” he starts, and the wheels are still turning in his head, eyes looking everywhere but you now, “I don’t know, you just seemed… s-selfish.” 

You almost don’t see it – the first crack in the glass, the first sign of civility crumbling. 

“Selfish?” you echo back, crestfallen, nearly wounded. You attempt to hide it, to not show him that his words affect you, because you’d asked for this. You’d asked the damn question, fueled by liquid confidence, and he was giving it to you. 

“Yeah, just… Full of yourself?” his voice jumps up an octave at the end of his sentence, as if he’s unsure, as if he’s asking you if that’s the right answer. The crack spreads, and begins to distort your vision of him, “I knew you had been sort of popular in high school, and you carried yourself like those popular kids I knew. And… and…” 

His eyes finally stop fleeting from yours. He meets your gaze, and you know you weren’t equipped with strong enough armor to hide the wounds he was inflicting. He could see the bruises as his hits landed, accidental or not. 

“I just thought you were everything I’d always hated. So I hated you.” 

The crack splinters, and hairline fractures split the image of Eddie into unrecognizable pieces. The boy you’d grown accustomed to thus far tonight, the boy you’d grown comfortable with, is gone in your eyes. 

“So,” your voice is tight, and you know you won’t be able to keep up with eye contact, not when it all starts to sting so ardently, “You judged a book by its cover, and decided I’m a royal, spoiled bitch. Isn’t that exactly what everyone in high school did to you?” 

“How did you-”

“Steve told me. He told me about your reputation, about being a freak, everything.” 

The splintering has spread to his side of the glass, clearly, as you say the word freak. 

“Is that why you hate me?” his tone hardens, gaze no longer sympathetic. Not that you see the change. “You decided I’m a freak, too?”

“I never said that-”

“No? Sorry, I thought we were just putting words into each other’s mouths.” 

The bar is busy, and you wonder if the bystanders can hear the wall of civility finally shattering. You have no idea if any of the shards hit Eddie, but you can feel them dig into your chest, your arms, your stomach. Shards that remind you of what could have been.

Shards that remind you of what was lost because Eddie Munson had decided he hated you long before he met you. 

“You’re the one who hated me before you even met me,” you scoff cruelly. 

“I never fucking said that-”

“You did, though,” you counter, crossing your arms over your chest protectively, “You said so yourself. Steve mentioned I was sort of popular in high school, and you just- you just decided to shove me into a box of what I would be. Some girl you didn’t even know.”

“Well, pardon me,” he snaps, “I didn’t exactly have the best experience with the popular kids, but you should know that since Stevie told you everything, right? Hell, he probably mentioned it over pillowtalk for your one night together, right?” 

You were an idiot. You had let yourself forget that Eddie is not normally kind, that Eddie is not normally so trustworthy as he’s been the last hour. You’d let your guard down, and now, the ramifications were staring you down right between the eyes. 

“Fuck you,” you angrily spit, moving to stand up, “I told you that in fucking confidence, because I thought… I thought…” 

“You thought..?” he presses as you turn to face him, shorter than him now that you weren’t both sitting in the stools, “What? That we were friends?” 

Yes. Because for a moment, I thought we were becoming friends, like a fucking idiot. 

His chest is heaving now. Just as yours had during your rant to him, your attempt to soothe over the fact that he hated you. You regret it. You regret ever agreeing on civility. 

“My mistake,” you choke out, “It won’t happen again.” 

You’ve caught him off guard. Maybe he had been prepared for you to deny it, maybe he had thought you’d laugh in his face at the idea of you considering him a friend.

But you hadn’t. You’d just confirmed to him that you did have that moment of weakness. You’d admitted that yes, for a vulnerable moment, you’d considered him a friend. A confidant over sweetened alcohol, cheap bar food, and trust. 

He’d had your trust, and he’d now lost it. 

You don’t wait around to see how he takes the revelation. You’re already storming out the front door of the bar, grateful you can still remember which direction his apartment is in. You don’t care if he’s following you – part of you hopes he isn’t. 

Until part of you is. Because as you step out into the night, a few shadows against the brickwall are brought to life by your appearance. 

“Hey there,” one of the men call out, “What’s a girl like you doing all alone?” 

You don’t process that the man is talking to you at first, head down and anger flaming. 

“Hey, you!” There’s a sudden hand on your shoulder, making you jolt your head up, “Yeah, you. What’s a pretty girl like you doing out here alone?” 

His grin is sinister. Sickly sweet in faux honey, blonde hair swept back and breath reeking of rum. 

“M-Me?” you stutter, trying to take a careful step back, to get his hand off your shoulder. 

Your heart is no longer racing with fury. It’s pounding with fear. 

“Does it look like there’s any other pretty girls out here?” he slurs with a chuckle, glancing around to his friends.

You look around as well, and realize with sinking trepidation that there’s no one else out here, “No. But, uh, I’m good. I.. I’m not… interest-” 

“What’s your name, honey?” he leans in closer, and you can’t help but lean back. It makes his grip on you tighten. “I’m Jason. Are you all alone? Because, I’ll be honest, I’ve been striking out all night and would love to take a pretty thing like you home with me.” 

“I’m g-good,” you start again, “Please, uh, please let go-” you're shaking your head, trying harder to pull off his hand. 

“Oh, come on. It’d be fu-” 

He doesn’t finish his sentence. One second, he’s pressing too close to you, holding you tight enough to leave bruises as you’re cringing and suddenly squirming to get out of his grasp, and the next – he’s gone. 

“Get the fuck off her.” 

You’re still too shocked to move, glancing down at your shoulder that’s now red and sore. But you know that voice. 

It’s the voice that had just told you he’d hated you before he ever met you. 

“Hey, man!” The intruder, Jason, protests as he’s shoved harshly against the wall. “What the fuck?” 

You finally look to see what’s happening properly. Eddie isn’t facing you, his broad back and shoulders appearing menacing in the shadows as Jason sinks further back against the wall. 

“She’s not going home with you.” 

His tone doesn’t waver, even as you catch the clench of his shaking fist. 

Jason catches sight of you, still standing where he left you, and the nauseating smirk returns, “I think we should let her decide, shouldn’t we?” 

You see Eddie move to raise his fist, and your body finally unfreezes. In an instant, you’re at his side, and your hand wraps around his bicep to prevent the punch he was surely pretending to send Jason’s way.

“Eddie,” you plead, tugging him backwards, anger momentarily forgotten. He doesn’t look at you, but he immediately takes the arm in your hold and wraps it around you in order to tuck you further behind his body, away from the wide, drunken stares of these men. You hate it, but it makes you feel safer, even as you grip the leather of his jacket’s sleeve tighter, “Eddie, please, let’s go.” 

“So she’s spoken for?” Jason pushes his luck, still slurring his words. 

Eddie’s fist clenches again. Without thinking, your hand not on his arm reaches down to grasp his fist. 

Your heart's still pounding. You’re still trembling, shaken up terribly – he can feel it. 

“Please,” you beg one last time. 

This time, he listens. The fist unravels, and in an instant, he has your hand locked in his, palm against sweaty palm. 

He’s not as rough as you expect him to be as he’s dragging you away from the scene. You can still hear the cat-calls, the taunts, of the drunken men, but it only spurs Eddie to walk faster. You struggle to keep up, his long legs carrying him more easily through the long strides, but you don’t protest, eager to get away from whatever the fuck just happens.

Neither of you say another word during the walk to his apartment. Your shoulder continues to ache, your hand stays tangled in his, and you can still feel the prick of civility’s shards in your chest, lodged dangerously close to your vines and closing buds of hopefulness. 

Civility. What a broken construct. 

–

BIRDIE: they are literally on a date right now. 

JOHNNY: I’m not doing this right now. 

DINGUS: god, i hate to admit it, but rob’s right. are they at a bar right now? am i seeing that right?

BIRDIE: yes!! i called it!! i fucking called it!!! god, only five hours in and they’re already on their first date.

ARGYLE ​​😎: love is in the air my dudes

JOHNNY: @ARGYLE ​​😎Don’t encourage them. 

NANCE: It is NOT their first date. Eddie wouldn’t take her to a bar for their first date.

BIRDIE: hold on, how would you know what eddie would do for their first date? 

NANCE: He’d probably take her somewhere nice, like whatever this town’s equivalent of Enzo’s. 

DINGUS: when the fuck has eddie talked about where he’d take her for the first date? 

BIRDIE: nancy what the fuck do you know?

JOHNNY: Lol

NANCE: Forget I said anything. 

BIRDIE: nancy, please explain yourself immediately.

DINGUS: nance? when? the? fuck? 

NANCE: He was drunk, he probably didn’t mean it.

BIRDIE: NANCY.

JOHNNY: Now you’ve done it. 

DINGUS: NANCY.

ARGYLE ​​😎: does this mean what i think it means?

BIRDIE: NANCE. 

JOHNNY: Just couldn’t keep your mouth shut, could you? 

NANCE has left the groupchat.