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#pretty much everyone has a place in this except
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I did it
I put it to words after so much time lol
DEER ROOK HUNT
I keep forgetting to make this and to drop it in
Aaaaa
So, i know that most folks go
"Oh? Rook Hunt? He's gotta be a hunter, a predator type of thing or creature!" Which, makes sense in some aspects BUT it ignores WHY Rook Hunt is so off-putting to his brethren in canon and why he is so formidable and interesting. Firstly, Rook Hunt is a human. A human who is willing to hunt Beastmen, who can hassle Floyd, who even Leona avoids, a human who is incredibly formidable and skilled. Who is sneaky, to the point that Ortho has commented that the only reason he was able to detect the guy was due to his motion sensors. Rook Hunt who even tries to go after Malleus in PE (mainly by trying to mess with him so that Rook can interact with the dragon fae) and has asked Lilia if the bat fae would let Rook hunt him (both fae seem to be a bit irked by him, Malleus for being messed with and Lilia even makes a threat him which i think shows what a curve ball Rook is that he got under the skin of both fae who arguably find most non aggressive interactions amusing). He's human, arguably one of the physically weakest races of Wonderland and he outmaneuvers many of the beastfolk and often hassles the Leech twins (definitely Floyd, at least, who tries to avoid him as much as possible). He's very different from most of the humans and the usual expectations. He uses wit and strength and cunning to outdo his quarry while being one of the races that DOESN'T have the natural equipment that beastfolk with fangs and claws or fae with strength and power have.
In nonhuman au, he wouldn't be a predator species. He wouldn't have claws and fangs, nor brute strength. That's not what makes Rook so intriguing and interesting. He is light footed and suited for rough terrain, for getting through forests and being hardy. He would be something that most expect to be wary of beasts with sharp tooth and talon. He would be a deer. Deer are light footed, they are remarkable hardy, sneaky. They also get into a lot of trouble. But unlike the animal deer and how most would view a deer beast, Deer Rook is able to take down nigh any predator. He goes out of his way to do so. He's stalking down lions and hyenas and anything else that catches his eye. He still needs to rely on wit, hence his bows and arrows, his hunting knife and his skill set. That's how Rook operates and would be most in keeping with his character. Rook Hunt being a deer is also why many still find Rook Hunt so settling in nonhuman au. He's a hunter and predator, a deer who's claws are his arrows and fangs are his skills and wit. A formidable one, that many find a bit odd. It would be expected and understandable if Rook was a type of carnivore, a stalking hunting animal of some kind. But being expectable is not Rook Hunt.
So yeah
Deer Rook Hunt
Aaaa
I've been meaning to put this in lol
Sorry for the time taken haha
Of course, everyone can have their own vision of rook and harpy Rook has wonderful place in my heart but also Rook Hunt as a deer is very fitting and a deer beast hunting lion beasts and hassling others and freaking out everyone is very very funny and fitting lol
Also In keeping with his character and with the animal deer, he is still a curious individual and he tends to get into trouble.
So yeah
Rook Hunt as deer would be very fitting.
I would agree that a deer would be fitting in his case, and a prey animal being a hunter makes an interesting concept. Plus, Rook is already weird and deer and be pretty weird in their own right.
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Not a lot of peeps know about them actually eating meat, they even eat baby birds out of nests on occasion, though I would smack any beast boys I catch doing that.
I do wonder about the kind of deer he would be, there are over 60 different species of deer worldwide. Deer are present on all continents except Antarctica. They can live in a range of habitats, from mountainous areas to warm and wet rainforests.
Plus, I wonder how he would deal with his antlers; would he keep them shaved down since they could get in the way of stuff? Would he still wear a hat but maybe a different one? Then there's the shedding of the antlers which happens pretty suddenly, imagine in the middle of class you hear them suddenly falling onto the floor and giving everyone a startle. He prob makes something out of them, I used to have a knife with a handle made out of deer antler.
I'm also curious about him doing mating calls and such...they would likely startle a human that does know anything about deer and make them think there's a creature outside.
youtube
I want to see that silly man do deer hops and I want to see his cute tail and hoof feeties.
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syn4k · 4 months
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re the system ask game: how does divinity/godhood work in ur headspace? like is their power directly related to what they represent or their followers or is it a fixed static thing irrelevant of everything else or is every divine being equally powerful or something else?
along a similar thread: has anyone ever ascended to divinity from being mortal/has a divine being ever became mortal permenantly?
(if everyone is immortal or smthn yk what i mean by mortal. like not a god or devil or equivalents)
(also sorry if i assumed smthn or said smthn insensitive or wrong im using like fantasy godhood as a framework for ways how ur pantheon could work)
(ofc u dont need to answer or even address anything in this ask u dont wanna talk about/wanna keep private as always :3 )
OH SHIT YOU HAVE ASKED. THE FUCKING QUESTION. OHHHHHH BOY.
OKAY
SO.
up here, every god but three have either been created or ascended from mortality!
the three primordial deities (life, death, and fate), who have existed since the start of everything, hold the sole power to appoint gods and their stations. all three aren't required to agree on someone's ascension since fate was asleep for the vast majority of history, instead it's a 2/3rds majority, but yeah.
a deity's power is essentially based on their domain, but a select few of the older ones have collected a large and/or devoted enough following to gain more power in that way.
underneath the primordial gods are the regular gods, and boy howdy are there a lot of them. they're generally grouped into "major" and "minor" categories based on influence, power, and the importance of their domains, but everybody and their mother has different opinions on what exactly constitutes a major or minor deity and theyve been arguing about it since the start of time so i won't get into that right now.
very few gods formed naturally or even semi-naturally! all of the primordial ones did, of course, but there's also a few that by virtue of their domains already kind of half-existed before they were officially dubbed deities: notable examples of these include Time, Nature (specifically relating to the non-human flora and fauna of the Overworld), The Nether, Entropy, Destiny, and the Moon.
(Some notes on the list I just gave: The End and the Void have no god assigned to them due to the nature of their formation and structure. The Sun doesn't have one dedicated god but instead a council of sun gods who all take turns with it. There are regional Sky Gods. There's also an Ocean Queen (formally the Lady of the Waters), but she's not the goddess of the sea because the ocean and all water in general are kind of ungovernable due to other reasons).
The rest of the major gods, however, and all of the minor ones, were either created or were originally mortal and were chosen by Life and Death to ascend to godhood. It's actually fairly common for a mortal to become a champion of one of the more powerful gods and then ascend to minor godhood themselves later after a while of service.
oh yeah! forgot to mention that earlier but champions are a thing up here. basically they're mortals that were granted immortality by their god(s in rare cases) of choice in return for helping said god(s) run their domain and doing their will down on Earth. it's a mutual contract and it usually lasts for a set time or until both parties agree to drop it, in which case the champion is no longer bound to the god's service and continues to age like normal.
a god being stripped of their godhood and becoming mortal again is a rare event, but it does happen sometimes nonetheless. usually this requires a full discussion by the Godly High Council, but in Extremely Rare cases one of the primordial deities has done it alone for emergency reasons, because they have the power to do that. most of the time it's a vote tho.
it's a pretty serious thing though and being stripped of godhood is not the same as retiring from it. (retiring is common amongst gods who were originally human because the vast majority of mortal minds can't handle long-term immortality and that's okay.)
also, in this case, the definition of being immortal up here means that you have respawn enabled just like in minecraft. that's it. those who die permanently are mortal and although not all immortals are gods, all gods are immortal.
i think that should be most of your questions answered? thanks for the ask! :D
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emdotcom · 2 months
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My brain is so full of Bees about Post-Shift 2.
It's a fan game that was delayed for 4 years -- by the time it released, fnaf fangames as a whole were not as popular as they had been, & most people in the scene had forgotten about Post-Shift 1, so not a lot of people heard about it/played it.
Worse still is the people who did talk about the game. Pretty unanimously, the consensus was this: this game is the craziest, most insane fnaf fangame. It's overly difficult with mechanics that have no rhyme or reason to them & tutorials that are wordy, unhelpful, & sometimes actively mislead the player, meaning you need to comb through a lot of text only to be misinformed. It's not as infamous as some other fangames, but it definitely was talked about very poorly.
In general, I think most of these criticisms were blown up out of proportion, but I can't really disagree with most people's problems -- it is difficult & wordy, & rather hard to understand. I think, however, that the game is still 1. Really fun, 2. Not a bad game at all, &, most importantly, 3. Is a free fucking game that was clearly a passion project. Most damn fangames never get off the fucking ground when made in groups because the creators will never make a red cent off the thing -- this game was made by one dude for 4 years & delivered to people for free. It didn't ask anything of you except to accept it as a difficult game & to not go in with wild expectations. The dev just wanted to make a game that was rough, but he also wanted to make a game that felt unique & was fun. & It is fun, too, is the damn thing.
#em.txt#ps2 post#post-shift 2#i obviously am biased#i also obviously have more to say#but for now i think this is a start. i think this is fine so far.#i got counter arguments i was gonna type about the problems#bc tbh i think the difficulty isn't as big a problem as the difficult curve -- it starts very high for a fangame#bc it assumed you know what they're like. you know how fangames work. but it over assumes that all the mechanics#work at the same frequency as other fangame#the difficulty curve of night 1 is pretty tough place to start which turned a lot of people off#especially with how long & unclear th tutorials are & of course night 1's tutorial starting with a character that is unused in that night#it's rough. night 2 is even tougher. but night 3 is a cakewalk once you beat 2 bc it only adds 2 threats#so you might expect the next night to be as easy or even easier & in my eyes yeah -- night 4 is easier than 1 even#except that it's completely different & is asking the player to learn a new game entirely which is its own difficulty#but i can crank out a night 4 easy peasy no prolem. so you might expect night 5 to be even easier right? WRONG#WRONG WRONG WRRRONNNGG even people who know what they are doing struggle#because a mechanic in the game actively increases the difficulty as the difficulty is increased which is EVIL#& night 6 is even harder i have seen 3 people beat night 6 it is absurd#i sat in a call with another PS2 fan who clearly played thr game s lot & loved it but they could not beat the night normally#& this night has fucking optional difficulty modifiers when you finish that make it harder it is hell on earth#there is no checkpoints it is bad it is so bad I haven't beaten it i talk abt this game every day i play all the nights#i do not fucking play this night bc the way the tutorial works is unreal & unhelpful it wants you to remember#all this shit but it removes the 'walk around & click things before the night starts to see how they work/where they are'#& then it changes every 2 hours to something new so you won 12-2 but you hit 2 & forgot this one person's mechanic#but the only way to read the tutorial again is to close the game bc it automatically puts you back into the night#& will not take you to the home screen to view the booklet for night 6 it's insane#so yeah. there is difficulty. but the difficulty curve being this inconsistent is worse tbh#i get night 6 is meant to be like a 'everyone is here!' bossfight but it's overwhelming & there is too damn much
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eggmeralda · 1 year
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can you get burnout from doing nothing
#or am i going through a mental breakdown. based on the symptoms matching whatever the past week has had going on#unless it was caused by trying to socialise online#which i am so bad at and i guess seeing other people easily be all friends with each other kind of made my brain go 😨😱😖🤯#<- along with various other surrounding emojis#i'm stuck at uni rn bc my band has 2 gigs coming up + rehearsals so i have to be here. but there is nothing to do except Think#but yeah there was the alienated fandom feeling bc idk it always feels like everyone speaks to each other in dms and has all this like#lore with each other and i have no idea what's going on#and trying to actually interact is soooooooo exhausting and i always feel like i'm too slow or behind everyone else and yeah#and then camp weehawken began and i couldn't even deal with seeing everyone doing that and all knowing each other really well and idk#so i just left tumblr briefly. bc of everything. bc i'm irrational#basically the worst feeling is when you have friends in a fandom but then your hyperfixation starts to wear off and turns out they weren't#close friends they were fandom mutuals. btw this isn't about anyone in particular this has happened for most fandoms i've been in#it was more of a sudden realisation that's been creeping up on me for years. so to deal with the fading hyperfixation i just had to Go#and now i'm obsessed with threads. which has like no fandom. so at least the hyperfixation fadeout will be easier to deal with lol#but yeah it's that sort of feeling when you finish at some place and you make some friends but once you leave you never talk to them again#and knowing you didn't really leave a strong enough impact on them that they still wanna keep in contact with you#pretty much like that#at the same time though there's nothing to do atm so maybe i am just bored and overthinking#but still it's annoying to go through especially when it's happened for almost every experience in my life#also like I'd occasionally log back into tumblr to see what's going on but i'd see people liking posts on the swag archive and it's like#cool at least people like the archives :') but anyone could've done those#idk it's like i have to do something like that for people to actually care and as soon as i'm not contributing anything then i'm just#forgettable or something#i wanna come back to tumblr but idk if my brain is ready for that dsjkljf. i told myself i'd only come back when things feel stable#but also i'm impatient lol#again this isn't about anyone specific my brain just LOVES to malfunction it's actually its favourite pasttime <3#but either way if i seem really negative lately or just. weird. it's just my brain being its classic overdramatic self#i mean the thoughts are very real and based on vaguely true evidence but also my brain loves to exaggerate things to sabotage my life#i'm hitting tag limit so anyway. at least threads isn't happening rn so that's pretty good#ramble
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chaconnenha · 5 months
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ꔫ I'LL BE YOUR BOYFRIEND
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❛ 𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇───𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖾𝗅𝗌𝖾...
爱 𝓮𝗇𝗁𝓎𝗉𝘦𝓃 𝔁 𝒻!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 › sum. you're not his girlfriend, and he's not your boyfriend, but... ♯ cw. jealousy & possessiveness, petnames, minor suggestive, insecurities ✉️Ꮺ jw's scenario inspired by @jwnstars <3 ❪ THE ✦ LIBRARY ❫
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𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 doesn’t even spare a glance to the girl clinging onto his arm when you walk through the door. immediately brushes the girl off to follow you when you glare at him, before turning on your heels to walk away. he really doesn’t want anything to do with someone who isn’t you, but has to put up an act because that’s the only way you ever show him any reaction. doesn’t take long to find you where you sit at the bar alone, nursing an untouched drink. you roll your eyes, getting ready to leave, but his hand shoots out to grab yours and pull you into his lap, arms wrapping around your waist. “no need to act so jealous,” he teases. when you deny it, he chuckles, because you weren't fooling anyone except yourself. “you know, you could end this once and for all: just say the word…” he places a sensual kiss on your cheek, smirking when you shiver involuntarily at the feeling of his lips. “and i’ll show everyone here that i’m yours.”
𝐉𝐀𝐘 is so sweet, it's hard not to feel special... until you realise that he's just that way with everyone, and that you weren't an exception. he doesn't see anything special about the way he lends a girl his jacket when their shirt is soaked through. but you don't know that. so you barely look at him, and forego the usual pretty smile that you grace him with whenever you meet eyes. he literally follows you around like a lost puppy for the rest of the day, and he doesn't care if he looks pathetic because he just really doesn't want you to be upset with him. he corners you at the end of the day, and you can't help but admit everything, even though it feels silly. but instead of teasing, he smiles and brings you to his chest, pressing a searing kiss against your lips that makes you lose all strength in your legs. "you know, i don't kiss anyone else like this," he says, as you pant for your breath. "you're the only one for me, princess."
𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 immediately loses all feeling when he spots you with his arch enemy, smiling at him so prettily while the latter stares at you in awe. immediately knows what you're up to when you shoot him an innocent smile once you spot him staring in the distance, and smirks at himself because, that's how it's gonna be, huh? pushes you up against the wall later on, when the two of you are alone, laughing to himself internally when you try to push him away so half-heartedly, your hand simply resting on his chest. "does your little boyfriend know you were using him to make me jealous?" you scoff, rolling your eyes, because not everything you did was about him. to this, he only hums, his lips ghosting over your skin. he smiles when you swallow a lump in your throat, breathily whispering his name when he places kisses up the column of you neck to your jaw, so he can whisper into your ear. "no? well too bad for him, i don't like sharing my pretty girl."
𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 panics when he sees you crying to your best friend on the phone after you spot him with his ex, accidentally overhearing the moment when you start comparing yourself to her, how she's so much prettier, so much better for him, and how there's no way you can compete with her. he can't stand seeing you so insecure, when in his eyes, there was no competition─you were it for him, and that was the end of the story. he marches over to where you're curled up in a ball under the bleachers. your eyes widen in shock at seeing him, panic flooding your features. but you have no time to question how much he heard, when he suddenly grabs your face in his palms and kisses you dumb right there and then because how dare you talk so little about yourself? you're in shock, because weren't the two of them getting back together? or so, that was what you heard anyway. "no we're not and we never will," sunghoon replies. "because i only want you."
𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎 gets along with everyone, and that just happens to include the girls that you've never liked, and whom have never liked you. but if he knew that was the case, he would have stayed well away from them. when they notice you walk into the room, frowning as you spot sunoo with them, they get cocky thinking they have something over you. they flirt with him, giggling at everything he says, before one of them loudly fawns over how buff he is getting. that is the last straw for you, and you immediately excuse yourself from the room, not wanting to see anymore of it. but sunoo is hot on your heels, chasing you down until he catches up to you. "hey, what's wrong?" he asks, to which you scoff, saying that nothing is wrong, and that he should go back to those girls instead. but, "why would i?" he asks. and when you're left speechless, he smiles, before grabbing your hand in his and leading you away. "they're not you."
𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 hadn't anticipated you'd run into each other at the mall, but he's glad for it, because unlike you, he immediately becomes aware of the way a group boys eye you up and down in the distance. it only becomes more irritating when they seem to be laughing among each other, bumping shoulders and watching as you walk out of the dressing room, looking much too pretty for your own good as you try a new dress on. he instantly walks up to you, bringing you in by the neck for a deep kiss, his hand laid possessively on your waist. "sorry, baby," he says, buy not looking sorry at all, when he sees how the petname effects you. "you're just too pretty to leave alone." but you instantly catch on to what's happening, and tell him that he was awfully jealous for someone who wasn't even officially your boyfriend. to which he says, "i thought it was obvious? you're mine, and i'm yours."
𝐍𝐈-𝐊𝐈 doesn't get jealous, but he does hate the feeling of being the one left out of the loop─which is exactly what is happening right now, with the way you and one of your close guy friends keep exchanging looks that make you giggle and hit his arm, telling him to knock it off. he watches as your friend gives you teasing looks, and for what? he doesn't know. "you guys seem close," he says after your friend finally leaves, to which you tease him, asking if he's jealous. and at this point, he sighs in exasperation, because, "you already know i am." and when you're stunned into silence, he can't help but smirk, because "why are you so quiet all of a sudden?" he leans closer, towering over you, loving the way he's the one making you flustered and not someone else. "everyone except you knows i'm down bad."
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© CHACONNENHA, all rights reserved ( dividers do not belong to me )
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niteshade925 · 12 days
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Saw these tags in a reblog of my Chinese museum posts, and thought I have to make a response just so everyone is clear on how archaeological studies are carried out in China:
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^Well, the Shaanxi Archaeology Museum is a Chinese museum displaying artifacts found in China, it's not the British Museum lol.
But anyway just so everyone knows, modern Chinese archaeology has a rule, which is that unless it's absolutely necessary, an ancient tomb/mausoleum should not be disturbed. This means that many of these artifacts in the museums are found in a few main ways:
Tombs that absolutely had to be excavated because there were clear signs of grave robbing present, for example when tunnels left by grave robbers were found near a known tomb. This is called "excavating to rescue" (抢救性发掘), it's done by teams of archaeologists, the artifacts found will then be studied and eventually find a home in museums in China. In comparison, actual grave robbers would steal artifacts and sell them for money; many stolen artifacts would end up in auctions, mostly outside of mainland China. This is why there is no "general positive sense" in the phrase "grave robbing with grant money" when it comes to archaeology in China. Modern Chinese archaeology and grave robbing are simply not comparable in any way whatsoever.
Tombs that absolutely had to be excavated because new infrastructure will be built in that location. Such exacavations are also included in excavating to rescue. Examples include tombs in Xi'an city that had to be excavated because a metro was being built. Since Chinese people and Chinese culture are native to China, there are no ethical problems whatsoever, this simply a question of what matters more, the welfare of living Chinese people or the abstract afterlives of ancient Chinese people. Obviously, the welfare of living Chinese people is a more important matter. As for the argument of "but this goes against traditional culture", first, a culture is only alive if the people of that culture is alive and doing well, otherwise that culture is as good as dead; second, a major part of traditional Chinese culture IS focused on the welfare of descendants (ex: the belief that the spirits of ancestors will protect their descendants), so I'm sure our ancestors would be proud to see us doing well.
Tombs that were excavated because archaeologists were absolutely sure that artifacts discovered within would make major contributions to the study of Chinese history. This is pretty much the only exception to the rule of "excavating to rescue", and it is very rarely allowed. An example is the Xia-Shang-Zhou Chronology Project (夏商周断代工程), where the main focus is to gain a clearer picture of the timeline of ancient Chinese history, when dynasties began/ended, when major events may have happened, etc.
Artifacts that were found when arresting grave robbers. These are called "recovered artifacts" (追回文物).
Artifacts that returned to China from foreign countries, these are called "returned artifacts" (回归文物). A big portion of these artifacts ended up in foreign countries precisely because of grave robbers, and another big portion were and are still lost for the same reason as why the British Museum has so many artifacts from around the world.
Artifacts that were discovered scattered throughout China. There are three facts to consider here: 1) China has a long history and as a result, there are vast amounts of existing artifacts; 2) tombs are material things and thus are subject to the elements; 3) not everyone is an archaeologist. Combine these, and you have situations were valuable artifacts were found in places like the chicken coop of a farmer (this is how the eagle-shaped pottery ding was found).
Donations. Some artifacts were family heirlooms that were donated to museums.
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tender-rosiey · 1 year
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smack, smack — gojo satoru x f!reader
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a/n: special thanks to the beautiful @stinkyme for inspiring me to actually write this and for fangirling over the idea with me <3
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gojo satoru, like any dad, got his fair share of ‘bullying’ from his daughter, his 5 months old baby.
some dads get peed on, others get their hair pulled, and others get their nose bitten on the daily. it's a little something to make them suffer a bit like the mothers had to during the pregnancy.
your husband, however, is always getting smacked in the face whenever he has his blindfold on, and I mean harshly smacked in the face and unforgiving scratching.
the first time it happened was when he was going to school. he was ready, uniform on and everything, but he simply had to say goodbye to his two girls.
skipping to your shared bedroom, he placed two big smooches on your face. then, after much of pulling him off you, he went to smooch his little girl. a big unmatched grin was on his face as he looked down at her in her crib.
he picked her up, cooing softly at her, “what a pretty girl, just as pretty as your mama, huh?”
satoru then laid her gently against his chest and started rocking her softly, while humming. after a while, he felt her stir a little in his arms. she sleepily looks up at him, and he smiles down at her, “good morning, baby—“
now, your daughter was used to seeing her dad without the blindfold. she was used to getting met by her dad's bright blue eyes.
so when a strange unknown man was holding her up instead of her papa, she started wailing and screaming, repeatedly smacking him in the face.
whenever her little—strong—hand landed on the blindfold, she would try to pull it off with all her baby might. you scrambled out of your bed at the loud screeches and screams of both your husband and your daughter.
you saw how satoru was desperately trying to, as gently as possible, make her release her grip. you stumbled on your words, before yelling, “your blindfold! take off your blindfold off!”
“I! am! trying!” he yelps as she continues slapping the hell out of his face.
you hurry and take his blindfold off, swiftly throwing it to the side. he started rocking her, smiling despite the red marks and scratches all over his handsome face, “it’s me, daddy! you see me?”
almost magically, your daughter calmed down in an instant with the occasional hiccup from her previous crying. he smiled, “there you go; that’s my girl.”
she gently made grabby hands at him, and he quickly pulled her back into his chest. your daughter instantly snuggled into his shoulder and hid her face in his neck.
you stared at him for a moment, “well, at least we know that she bloody hates that blindfold.”
it honestly kind of adds up.
you remember the many times that your daughter was generally distressed or fussy and instantly calmed down when she saw her dad’s eyes. you also remember that one time your daughter was actually zoning out while looking at satoru’s eyes, her own safe place.
satoru chuckles with a shrug, “I have you as my savior, anyway.”
“you can’t always count on me to be the one to save you from our daughter’s monstrously strong grip.”
and he can’t.
no one is brave enough to try and to fight back a baby, let alone the strongest sorcerer’s baby.
that attack happens way more than satoru would like. for example, whenever you’re busy, he takes his little princess to the school with him. in general, everyone helps in taking care of the little angel (devil in some cases).
however, god forbid she sees satoru coming back from a mission with his blindfold on.
it took some time for your husband to learn his lesson and immediately take his blindfold off before he entered the school. until then, he was prone to his daughter’s crazy strong hand smacking his face till his entire face is painted red and not the cute kind.
satoru never believed in his students to save him, except for yuuji. the first time it happened around the students, most of them were either laughing or speechless.
yuuji did try to save his sensei from his smacking machine of a daughter, but ended up getting smacked himself.
your husband did hope that, maybe, nanami’s heart would soften, and he would finally help him.
nanami’s heart did soften, just not for satoru. instead, your daughter now has a special soft spot in nanami’s heart, as he did in hers, but that isn’t our topic for today.
the amount of times you would enter the room to find nanami chuckling or smiling at your husband getting beaten to a pulp by your baby. satoru could be sobbing, “nanami, please! save me!”
and nanami would simply smile—sadistically—and hum, “I don’t think I will.”
you’re pretty sure that nanami believes this is god’s way of punishing your husband for all the mischief he caused.
ignoring that, it grips your heart how satoru’s face would brighten up the moment he saw you. he would run up to you, giving you the baby to calm her down while he gives his face a rest.
and your little girl was smiling and giving you her version of cheek kisses.
your husband recovered quickly though, and took her back, his blindfold finally off. he doesn’t do it without pecking your lips though, “my savior.”     
then he gets lost in his own world with his little girl, and their laughs and giggles filled the room. her hands were gently holding her dad’s face as she squeals, and satoru’s heart soars as he forgets about his beating from a moment ago.
now, that doesn’t mean that his dear students don’t make fun of him for always losing against his little girl. during one of the recent teasings, he simply huffed, “you never tried the grip of a baby! tell them, yuuji!”
yuuji shudders as he remembers how long the slap mark lasted, “she is one hell of a strong baby.”
it’s one thing for panda and nobara to laugh, it’s another for megumi and maki to do so as well. your husband’s ego simply couldn’t take it anymore. he took his baby in his arms and gathered the baby bags, sparing one last glance at his ‘bullies’.
and so your husband dramatically exits the room, “I need my wife! I can’t with you people anymore!”
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sunrizef1 · 6 months
Text
Girl back home
Pairing: Logan Sargeant x wife!reader
Warnings: cursing (I think)
Authors note: this took forever, but now I can actually work on whiv now that I’ve finished this
Summary: Everyone keeps trying to set Logan up, but no one bothers to ask if he's already got a girl (surprise! he does!)
Word Count: 4.2k (jesus)
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“What about her? she’s pretty,” Alex asks as he points at the five hundredth model to walk past the Williams garage that day.
If it hadn’t been his home race, Logan might have walked away an hour ago when Alex’s pointing started but instead, he stayed, choosing to endure Alex’s unrelenting matchmaking.
“No, Alex. I’ve already said no to about 50 other girls you’ve pointed out, what makes you think she’d be different,” Logan groans, his head leaning back to rest against the wall behind them.
Alex purses his lips, a frown on his face, “Why won’t you let me get you a girlfriend?”
Logan pauses to stare at the ceiling of the garage for a second before he turns his head to face the man next to him, “I don’t need a girlfriend.”
“Yeah sure man, I’ve seen you stare quietly at a wall by yourself more times than you’d probably admit. If that doesn’t scream “I need a girlfriend” then I don’t know what does,” Alex shrugs before turning back to face away from his friend, his hand coming back up to point at a pretty-faced blonde girl making her way past the garage, even smiling when she locks eyes with Logan, “Ooh what about her? She seems to like you!”
Logan just hums in response, his eyes closing as he leaves Alex to talk to himself.
In reality, Logan truly didn’t need a girlfriend. He had something even better, a wife. Who also happened to be you. You had met when you were kids and had been in love ever since. You liked to joke that it was love at first sight but every time you said it, Logan would wonder how much of a joke it really was.
You had been there for every step in his career, through the wins and the losses, through karting to Formula racing. So when he proposed after the end of the f3 season in 2020, no one close to you was really surprised.
You got married shortly after, neither one of you wanting a big, flashy wedding. Instead, the wedding was small but still nice, just some close friends and family in attendance. Even Oscar had been there and he made sure to reference the event to everyone who wouldn’t understand when around Logan. He loved to talk about the “party” Logan had in 2020 to the other drivers who, frankly, had no idea what he meant.
When he got his move to Formula One, you were over the moon for him. You didn’t worry about long-distance. You had made it work in the past and you both had total confidence in each other to make it work. You continued your degree in engineering and he continued his career in racing. You tried to make it to races when school would let you, which wasn’t often, and he was more than happy to fly you out when he could.
Logan genuinely loved you more than anything. With that being said, this meant that he did not have the time of day for anyone trying to set him up with the Instagram model of the week who had decided to visit a garage.
But at the same time, he also didn’t feel the pressure to share your marriage with anyone. He didn’t really know any of the other drivers very well and if they wanted to know more about him, they could ask. It’s just that no one ever did.
Except, it seems, when they wanted to set him up.
“Hey, Logan!” A British voice calls out to the American, whose head shoots up at the uncommon voice.
“What’s up, mate?” The blonde asks Lando, pocketing the phone where he had just been texting you to ask about your engineering final.
Lando grins and places a hand on the American's shoulder, raising his voice to be heard above the sounds of the paddock, “I was talking to Oscar and he mentioned something about your love life and something about you being lonely, I don’t really remember what he said but anyway, I’m talking to this girl and she has this friend who I think would be perfect for you.”
Logan’s face drops at the brunette's words, a frown replacing his smile, “I’m cool Lando, thanks though.”
Lando furrows his eyebrows, disbelief written on his features, “You sure, mate? She’s sooooo fine.”
Logan just nods his head in response, backing away from the McLaren driver slowly, “Yeah I’m sure Lando, you have fun thinking about your girlfriend’s friend though.”
Lando doesn’t seem to catch the diss as he just glances up and down at Logan before shaking his head and turning on his heel to head back to his garage. Logan sighs before taking his phone back out of his pocket to see another text from you. A grin breaks out on his face as he sees your name.
Logan hadn’t talked to very many of the drivers on the grid, often feeling on the outs of a lot of conversations. So he’s even more surprised to see Charles Leclerc making his way toward him at a club. A club he had only agreed to come to so he coule be Oscar's designated driver, by the way.
“Eyyy, it’s the American!” Charles says, the alcohol clearly present in his voice. The lights are too dimmed but if they were brighter, Logan would be able to see the lipstick smudges around his white collar.
“Hey, Charles,” Logan replies, scepticism laced in his voice. The Monegasque leans closer to him, the drink in his hand sloshing around in the cup.
“I have something to tell you,” Charles slurs a bit, leaning dangerously before a pretty brunette comes up and grabs him, based on her lipstick shade compared to Charles’ shirt, she had already been more than acquaintances with him before this conversation.
Logan glances at the pair before responding dryly, “Oh no.”
Charles grins before pointing back to where he had come from, a dark-haired girl sitting at the table, “That’s Natalie.”
“Navaeh,” the brunette pipes up to correct Charles as he nods in response.
“Yeah, Nivia. Anyway, she’s a friend of mine and she’s been eyeing you all night, thought you’d want her number.”
Logan rolls his eyes at the very clearly drunk couple in front of him, increasing his headache from the pounding EDM, “What an assumption there Charles. I’m actually good though.”
“What?” Charles asks, squinting to see the blonde under the club lights.
“No thanks,” Logan smiles tightly before moving to step around the couple and probably tell Oscar that either they were both leaving or Oscar was getting an Uber, “You guys have a good night though.”
The couple is already too busy sucking face to realize he’s left.
“I just don’t understand why they keep trying to set me up, I’m perfectly happy with you,” Logan complains to you over the phone a few nights later.
You were sat in your dorm, engineering work strewn across your desk and your roommate at a party somewhere. You were trying to get as much work done as possible before Logan came to Austin for the GP so you could spend the weekend with him.
“I mean, have you told them you’re married?” You ask, trying to stifle a yawn as your hand moves to write down the equation for the problem in front of you.
Logan shakes his head, the movement almost imperceptible through the small phone screen, “Nah, but it’s just that no one’s asked you know? I’m just waiting for someone to say “Hey Logan, you got a girl back home?” Before they try and set me up with some Instagram model they know.”
You smile softly as he talks, his hands moving to mess with his blond hair periodically. He eventually looks back to the screen once he’s done ranting and is met with your smiling face filling his phone screen, “What?”
“I love you,” you say warmly, your grin practically splitting your face.
Logan blushes before laughing and shaking his head to hide the redness on his face, “I love you too. I’ll see you next week yeah?”
You look down at the now-completed homework in front of you. Homework that could’ve taken about 2 fewer hours if you weren’t on call.
“Yeah I’m done with this. I’ll turn it into my professor tomorrow and after that I am free. When do you get in?” You ask, shuffling the papers together and sliding them into your bag before moving out of your chair and flopping onto your bunk, sleep clouding your eyes.
“Uhh,” Logan pauses, glancing at his suitcase. In reality, he was supposed to get in twenty two hours and six minutes from when he hung up the call, his flight leaving in three hours and arriving in Austin after a 16 hour flight and a 2 hour layover in DFW followed by an hour long flight to Austin. He would effectively be arriving about a week before any of the other drivers. Besides maybe Daniel. But he couldn’t say any of that. He wanted to surprise you, especially now that you had no work to do. So instead he just hums, “Next week I think.”
“That’s great, babe,” you yawn, a small smile on your lips at the idea of him being back with you again, “I can’t wait to see you.”
“Yeah?” Logan grins.
You hum, your eyes drifting closed slightly, “Yeah.”
Logan notices your less-than-awake state and finally decides to end the call, “Goodnight, I love you.”
You yawn again, your eyes fluttering shut, “Good morning Logan, I love you too.”
The call ends quickly after and Logan glances at the time, grinning when he sees the 8:24 am displayed on his phone screen. You’d both had to deal with the difference in time zones for so long, you probably had all the time zones memorized. Or at least you remembered enough to call out good morning instead of goodnight while he was in Qatar.
His flight touches down twenty-two hours later and the first thing he does is call you.
“Hey what's up?” It's about 10:30 in Austin and the only thing you were doing was picking up barbeque from this place on the edge of campus that your roommate had been raving about.
“Not much, just bored,” Logan replies, his eyes scanning the background of the face time call for where you could possibly be this late.
You glance down at your phone for a second to do the same, eyebrows furrowing, “Where are you? It looks dark.”
Logan glances around slightly before replying, “In a car,” he wasn't lying, he really was in a car. Just one that was ubering to your campus instead of one with his team in Qatar, “Where are you? It's like 10 pm over there.”
“Just picking up some food,” you reply, eyes looking over the moonlit sidewalk that threads through the well-kept grass that surrounds you.
“This late?”
You laugh, “I slept through dinner.”
Logan smiles before sliding forward slightly when the car stops, “Are you just going back to your dorm?”
You look around quickly, “Yeah it's like a quarter mile back though.” You tighten your grip on the bag in your hand, the plastic having started to slip. Maybe your Ugg slides hadn't been the best choice for this walk but you'd manage.
“Oh yeah I know where you are, I remember eating at that place last time I was there,” Logan pulls his suitcase out of the trunk and tips the driver, checking periodically to make sure you hadn't clocked him.
“Yeah yeah, really good stuff and the owner remembered me today, guess I've been there enough times,” You laugh, starting to move back in the direction of your dorm once again.
By the time you had stopped to readjust the bag of food and your shoes, Logan had already started to speedwalk in the direction of your dorm. As he walks he passes enough drunk college kids to fill the football stadium they had all visited so many times.
You're walking pretty slowly, enjoying the moonlight shining brightly on the campus. Your shoes definitely weren't making you any faster to be fair.
“You turn your assignment in?” Logan asks, hoping you don't notice his eyes darting around the campus in search of you.
You nod, reaching a hand up to rub at your sleepy eyes, “Yeah, he even gave me extra credit for turning it in so early.”
Logan nods absentmindedly and you raise an eyebrow as you watch him do it before his eyes lock on something and he abruptly ends the call, “I've got to go, love you!”
You stand staring at your phone with a confused look on your face for a moment, words dying on the tip of your tongue. Weird.
You shake your head before moving to walk again, Logan's weird actions at the forefront of your mind.
Before you can even take a step, someone calls out your name and you turn quickly to see Logan standing there with the biggest grin on his face.
You gasp and wrap him in a bone-crushing hug warmth spreading through you from his arms. You move to spread kisses all across his face and for a few minutes, you both just stand there, not having seen each other in a few months and taking the time to readjust.
“I missed you,” you mumble into his shoulder, unexpected tears starting to spring from your eyes.
He just sets you down before wrapping a hand around the side of your face, “I missed you too.”
You bring a sweater-clad hand up to wipe away a tear before grabbing the food in one hand and grabbing his hand in the other, starting to lead him back to your dorm.
He grabs his suitcase as you start moving, “Is your roommate here?”
“No, you know how she is. She'll be with her new boyfriend for a few weeks so we're fine,” you wave away his question as you walk toward the building a few hundred feet away.
He smiles in response, “Hope you got enough food for two.”
You just laugh joyously.
A week and a half later, you’re stood in the hotel room Logan’s team had provided him, the room much nicer than your cramped dorm room. You had spent the last 12 days exploring Austin with your husband, making up for the time spent away from each other.
You had accidentally slept through Logan’s departure for the morning, waking up to a text explaining that, with your busy class schedule, he wanted you to get as many days of sleeping in as possible but he had gotten you breakfast and it was currently sitting in the kitchen.
You smiled at the text, appreciating Logan’s thoughtfulness. In the kitchen was a coffee from your favourite coffee shop as well as a McGriddle from McDonalds, which, no doubt, hurt Logan to order considering he wasn’t allowed to eat them.
You quickly ate the food, texting Logan to thank him. He texts back surprisingly quickly, considering he was supposed to be in a meeting.
He filled you in on how his morning had gone before asking when you’d get to the paddock for the race. You replied that you’d be there soon, quickly sliding on a light jacket over your tank top and jean shorts, preparing for the Austin heat.
Considering you had never been in the COTA paddock before, you would rather be in any situation other than your current one. There were about three hours until the race and you had no idea where the Williams garage was. You had gotten in just fine but, for some reason, you couldn’t find the blue of the Williams employees anywhere.
Logan wasn’t answering his phone, which you expected considering he had already been reprimanded for being on his phone during a meeting once this morning. Now you were left by yourself, trying to navigate the busy paddock.
You were somehow in a sea of orange, eyebrows furrowed. You turn in a quick circle, eyes setting on a curly-haired man in an orange polo who you take a few quick steps towards, hoping he can help you with directions.
“Excuse me,” you call out to the man who turns around swiftly, eyes pulling across your figure before landing on your face.
“How can I help you, love?” The man replies, a British accent laced through his voice and a sharp grin on his rosy lips.
You glance around slightly, leaning away from the man’s hungry gaze, “Do you know where the Williams garage is?”
He nods his head but keeps his eyes locked on your face, his smirk unfaltering, “Yeah, yeah, it’s just down that way.”
He points to nowhere in particular, moving to lean against the wall you’re standing near, “What’s your name, darling?”
You have to hide the smirk that tries to escape you at the fact that this man clearly has no idea you were married and also clearly thought you’d be an easy girl to flirt with considering his unwavering confidence.
You tell him your name and a grin breaks out on his face, “Pretty name, I’m Lando.”
Ah, so this was Lando. You had only ever seen him with his helmet on and from what you heard from Logan, his current behaviour made perfect sense. Logan hadn’t talked a lot about the Brit but he had mentioned him a few times considering he was Oscars teammate.
You hum, glancing around amusedly around the garage. You and Lando talk for a few more moments before a shorter figure clasps a hand on his shoulder. You lock eyes with the newcomer, grinning when you see a familiar boy standing behind Lando.
"Hey Osc," You smile at the Aussie. Oscar glances sideways at Lando, eyes shifting across his face before they turn to you. You just smile sweetly at the man who reciprocates the grin back at you.
"Hey," Lando glances confusedly between the two of you at Oscar's response. When Lando's confusion goes on a bit too long, Oscar turns and swings an arm around your shoulder, effectively moving the both of you away from the still-confused McLaren driver.
"I assume you're looking for Williams, then?" Oscar asks, running his free hand through his hair which had already begun to stick to his forehead from the Austin heat.
You hum in affirmation, sliding your sunglasses down your nose as the two of you step into the sun to make your way to your husband's garage.
Oscar makes conversation as he pulls you along, talking to you about how his season had gone and also asking a lot of questions about your engineering classes.
“I’d do a video for you, shock all your classmates,” Oscar says when you tell him you had to do a presentation explaining the engineering behind a piece of machinery and you had chosen a Formula 1 car.
You laugh, shaking your head as you do, “Yeah? I'd take you up on that, but I have a driver who'd be much easier to get a video from.”
Oscar snorts, smiling as you reach the Williams garage, “Lando?”
You roll your eyes as the name leaves his lips, hitting the back of his head with the small bag in your hands, “Don't get me started on Lando. You know he tried to set Logan up with one of his friends?”
Oscar furrows his eyebrows, “What?”
“Yeah, Lando said you told him Logan’s love life was lonely or something like that,” You reply, glancing around passively in search of your husband.
Oscar somehow manages to furrow his eyebrows even deeper, mouth opening and closing in disbelief, “That’s not what I said at all.”
“Tell him that.”
You both walk into the garage after that, you move to make conversation with Benny who’s sat to the side, surprise crossing his face as he sees you.
Oscar, though, spots Logan and makes his way to him quickly. He clasps a hand on the blonde's back who turns to face him with a grin, “What’s up Osc?”
“Lando was flirting with your wife,” Oscar states flatly, trying to push down the grin on his face.
Logan blinks a few times in an attempt to understand what the Aussie just said, “What- why?”
“Don’t think he knew she was your wife, mate.”
Logan rolls his eyes before turning around slightly to resume his conversation with his engineer. He stops mid-turn and swings back around to Oscar quickly, eyes wide, “My wife’s here?”
Oscar laughs at the American's face, stepping out of his line of sight so he can see you conversing with Benny.
Logan grins, sliding past the other boy to step toward you as quick as he can, wrapping his arms around you from behind. Oscar can’t hear what you two say to each other but he can see the love painting your faces as Logan plants a kiss on the top of your head. Benny smiles at the two of you, walking away to let you two talk.
As Oscar leaves the Williams garage, he briefly debates telling Lando you were married, especially to Logan, but he eventually decides not to. He’d figure it out eventually. Also might help to have him learn the hard way.
You sat in the garage for the entire race. But when Logan ends the race in eight, you’re jumping up happily to follow the Williams employee guiding you to where he’ll be.
The moment he’s done being weighed, he runs over to you, pulling his helmet off and unzipping his suit to his hips.
He grasps the side of your face, pulling you to him as he kisses you softly. He pulls away slightly and rests his forehead against yours, lifting a hand to grab the one you have against the side of his face, fingers brushing over your wedding ring.
“Thank you for being here. I love you.”
You can’t help the lovely laugh that escapes you, throwing your head back a bit to escape the heat rising on your cheeks, “I love you too, dork. I’m so proud of you.”
He smiles before leaning to catch you in another kiss.
Lando had finished the race in 4th. Not bad considering who had finished in front of him. He’d already talked to his team so he was now just roaming around, looking for someone to talk to.
He locks eyes on you and takes a few steps toward you before someone comes running past him. He looks over to see Logan grasping your face in his hands before pulling you down into a kiss.
He can’t help but stand in shock for a few moments although he can sense a couple people walking up next to him. He glances beside him to see Charles and Alex, both also staring at Logan in disbelief.
“What the hell?” Lando asks, to no one in particular. Luckily, or unfortunately, for him, someone has an answer.
“Are you lot staring at Logan and his wife?” Lando doesn’t look over to catch the amused look on Oscar’s face as he asks the question. But Alex does, and he furrows his eyebrows at the younger man.
“Sorry?” Alex asks the Aussie who just smiles and turns back to the couple, still smiling in each other's embrace.
Charles is the first one to notice anything and he smacks the other two on the head when he does, “They’re both wearing wedding rings.”
Alex blinks for a second, caught in the strange reality that he hadn’t noticed his teammate wearing a wedding ring the whole season. He pulls out his phone to go through old photos and low-and-behold, Logan’s wearing a ring in every single one.
“Jesus Christ,” Lando mumbles, running a hand through his damp curls, “I flirted with her.”
“Yeah,” Oscar nods, hands on his hips, “I probably wouldn’t talk to Logan for a while if I were you. Unless you want to find out how they do it in Florida.”
Lando gulps at the boy's words, of course, having no idea how they “do it” in Florida but only assuming he’d end up with a black eye. Oscar has to stifle a laugh, knowing Logan would most likely just laugh it off if Lando genuinely apologized. Not that Lando would.
Oscar's eyes drift across the trio of confused drivers, most likely all going through their memories of the times they had tried to set Logan up.
“You told me he was lonely,” Lando finally whines out, turning back to Oscar who shakes his head.
“I told you he was lonely because his girlfriend couldn’t make it to any of the races. If you would listen, you would’ve heard that part.”
Lando has no defence to that and turns his head back again to watch as Logan laughs at something you said, fingers intertwined together.
When the news spread across the paddock the next day, Logan received a lot of incredulous texts from drivers and employees alike, all shocked that he was in a relationship, let alone married.
Logan didn’t read any of them, he was too busy hanging out with you.
Except, of course, the message from Oscar that included three specific drivers all with their eyes wide as they stared at him and you.
——————————————————
Tags: @casperlikej @evie-119
6K notes · View notes
wonryllis · 4 months
Text
✶ 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘𝒟𝐎𝐋𝐋? RICH BOY ENHYPEN PINNING AFTER YOU.
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目录──────𝗔𝗟𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗘𝗟𝗬, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝖺𝗆𝗈𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌.
𝓉𝗵𝗲 𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗟𝗗 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗘 ⋅ enhypen showing that you're not just one of the girls. wordcount total 2882 (approx 0.4k each) ⭑ CONTAINS— female!reader, fluff, suggestive, lots of swearing. % strongly recommend listening to ›› the respective songs while reading! jungwon's is inspired by ␥ kavin and kaning. ( THE ARCHIVE? ) PLS REBLOG ><
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𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚
ぃ ⏤ now playing. HELLGIRL BY ARI ABDUL
"shit. you gotta wear this one, angel," heeseung groans in satisfaction, ignorant and indifferent to the fact that all the store employees could hear him, someone who never brings over girls to places like these, going insane over one. and the fact that you were unable to wrap your head around this situation just yet.
it was surreal and it was nerve wrecking. but heeseung was adamant that he needed you.
needed you to dress so fucking gorgeous and stand by his side as his date for the night while he paraded around greeting his parents' guests. showing them that he is capable of being committed by bringing along a partner for the first time ever. that's what he tells you—
"is this really fine?" you ask again, hands dusting over the sleek satin hugging your skin in a way that it tickled. heeseung stands up and strides overs to where you stand, arms sliding around your waist to pull you against him. "it's more than fine, absolutely stunning," leaning into your neck to leave kisses, "and so hot," right infront of everyone, no one daring to say a word to him, except you.
you who has been an exception to all his rules, you who has made him want to do things he has never wanted to before. you who has swept him off his feet.
you push against his chest in an attempt to stop him,"we'll be late, should go now," he hums in a low growl, lips nipping right against your ear before he pulls away with much exasperation almost unsated. clicking his tongue in annoyance for the staff to hurry the billing once he's done admiring you. unable to stand that anyone beside him see you dressed so pretty.
"just smile and follow my lead," heeseung tells you once you arrive at the venue. giving you an encouraging look as he instructs the valet to wait until you seem calm enough to step out. that's what he tells you— heart eyes and odd actions speaking for themselves. his hands find your waist when you finally walk up the stairs, breath shaky as you pass the entrance.
"relax angel, 'm right here, we can leave whenever you want," he kisses the side of your head, lips lightly touching your styled hair. never caring about who's looking and who's thinking what. if only you knew it too.
𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚
ぃ ⏤ now playing. STAY BY ARI ABDUL
"look behind you, princess," the voice incoming from your phone suddenly sounds too loud, paired with faint footsteps coming to a halt. jay's lips break into a wide smile when you turn around in an instant to look at him. your eyes following his hands holding an enormous bouquet of red roses, before you notice anything else.
before you notice the want in his eyes. the want for you.
"jay? i thought you were in— " you speak into the phone, eyes locked with his, but before you can finish he hangs up the call. approaching you with quick steps and immediately pulling you into a kiss. one that's short but deep enough to convey his feelings. "berlin? yeah, but i flew back for you," he breathes out against your lips.
"why?" "you know why love," his fingers twirl the hair falling into face, tucking them away and cupping your cheek as he gives you a smile before stepping away.
he waits for you to say something, to address his feelings but like always you avoid it and like always jay lets you. alas there will come a time when you would no longer be able to deny his love, so until then he will continue to show you all ways you own his heart in. his forever princess."what about that conference you were going to attend with your dad?" you ask, accepting his bouquet.
watching him with a soft giggle as he struggles to pull out a single rose and place it behind your ear. "don't worry about it," in a reassuring tone he leads you to his car. teasing you of a surprise each time you question where you are headed.
asking you to have your eyes closed while he leads you to the rooftop of a high-rise building owned by his family, illuminated by pretty lights and flowery wreaths, and a firework show worth a million.
all just for you.
to pose a smile on your face and to be the one to put it. to be the reason of your happiness and to be the person beside you in your best memories,"happy new year, princess," jay whispers into you ear as you open your eyes to see all of it. "jay this—" you gasp in a trance, gaze hooked on the sky while his is fixated in the way the fireworks shine against your pretty orbs and the gloss on your lips,"it's all for you,"
𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡
ぃ ⏤ now playing. MEDDLE ABOUT BY CHASE ATLANTIC
"you owe me. you can't keep avoiding me forever, doll," jake chuckles, noticing how you turn the other way after catching a glimpse of him. finding it adorable how you do everything you can to not cross paths with him.
leaving him no choice but to wait for you outside your university, leaning against his black lykan hypersport; attracting unwanted attention while his eyes only look for your cute panicked figure amidst the crowd.
"i told you it was a mistake—" you refute, throwing a glare at his smug face as he drives right beside you, following your every step, nonchalant about all the stares you both get as long as you agree to him taking you out. "get in the car," or the other way round, he's fine with both. frustrated and knowing you'd never be able to escape him, you decide to give in.
"you owe me lunch," jake grins as his eyes watch you get into the passenger seat just like the passenger princess you are.
his passenger princess. first and last in his beloved car.
"jake this— isn't this too—" your heart skips beats at the sight of the dock and the luxury cruise restaurant closing in, scared and nervous about how much you'd have to spend but jake just shushes you. getting out the car first and coming over to open the door for you; one hand holding yours and the other cushioning your head as you step out.
"just let me have your time and i'll let you off of staining my prada with coffee," he begs, afraid you'd walk out of here if he were to tell you the real reason. if he were to tell you that you have his heart and no matter what you do his feelings are not changing. if he were to tell you he wanted to take you out to all these places and spoil you rotten and occupy your mind like you occupy his.
if he were to tell you it was indeed not your fault for he bumped into you on purpose to find an excuse to talk to you.
"but—" jake shushes you again, fingers rubbing against your lips as he shakes his head before pulling out the chair for you and helping you sit properly,"don't think too much doll, just do as i say, please?" planning to keep you busy until the sun goes down so he can take you to for a ride on his yacht.
𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡
ぃ ⏤ now playing. BABYDOLL BY ARI ABDUL
"fuck baby, don't cry like that," sunghoon panics, his fingers grazing under your eyes to gently wipe the tears. afraid if he's not careful enough, he'll break you. "as much as i love the way you look so pretty like this, tears are not for someone like you," he has no idea how to soothe your frantically crying figure, slouched in the passenger seat against the expensive leather of his aston martin.
his hands fumble around in an attempt to think of ways he could just make you feel better and smile for him. those adorable crinkle of your eyes that have him whipped.
fuming each time he thinks of the moron who took that opportunity away from him by making you sad. he swears if he finds him, he'll beat the living daylights out of him. remind him not to linger anywhere around his girl.
sunghoon softly cups your cheek in his palm and leans in to kiss you, lips moving slow and sensual, "forget him, let me make you happy," he whispers into your mouth once he pulls away, foreheads touching and hands caressing your face lovingly. he makes sure your belt is secured before driving off to one of the luxury malls in the city, ones where you need to be of a certain level to enter.
a place you probably could never have the chance to enter if it weren't for him.
"my princess gotta shop her sadness out, hmm?" sunghoon coos as he stops outside the building, watching you gape in surprise, surprised himself that you are yet to realize just how much you mean to him.
"come on, i'll buy you whatever you lay your eyes on," he insists before you have the chance to deny him.
his hands rest at the back of your waist, leading you inside after handing his keys to the valet. dropping a soft kiss on your temple when you watch his vip card being inspected with a nervous breath of how elite this place has to be.
and knowing how new you must feel to all this, sunghoon pulls you closer with the intention of making it known that this is how it's gonna be from now, "get used to it, baby," you're not his yet but he's gonna treat you like you are. after all it's only a matter of time before it happens.
𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗪𝗢𝗢
ぃ ⏤ now playing. GOOD GIRL BY THOMAS LAROSA
"good girl, you did a great job," sunoo pats your head teasingly amused at the confusion adorning your features. "sunoo, what were you doing there! you don't even have marketing?" the way you close in, demanding an explanation assures him that you indeed were affect by his presence, by the eye contact he held with you the entire time you were giving your presentation.
walking into the lecture hall in the middle of it as if he owned the place and taking a seat at a spot that directly put him in your line of sight. smirking, raising his brows and pushing his tongue against his cheeks to distract and annoy you.
"would you believe me if i said i came to see you?" his hands took ahold of your wrists playing with your fingers as he waited for you to answer.
"liar," you whisper, suddenly conscious of the implication behind his words and it makes him chuckle, of course what did he expect? you're hard to get, and perhaps that's the reason he feels so attracted, almost crazy over you.
like something he has to have, someone he has to have.
he takes a step closer, his varsity hat poking against the top of your head as his eyes bore into yours just the way they did inside earlier,"see? what do you want me to say then?" he whispers back, tone suddenly changing into a serious one. "you can't just enter any class like that," your innocent claim goes through him from one ear and falls through the other. how naive you are.
"i can if it's my dad's university," he can't help but chuckle at the expression on your face when you put the pieces together and realize it. all those times you came across him in places with strict attendance, it all made sense now.
"as adorably as you scold me, you're gonna see me everywhere you go," sunoo warns, leaning in impossibly close, lips hovering over yours,"you should stop fooling yourself baby,"
his hands move from your wrists to rest against the wall behind, voice dropping an octave,"and you should stop fooling around just because you can," you bite back, pressing your palm into his chest to push him back. "i'm fooling around because i want you, and i will have you," "you—" "we have a party this weekend at our summer villa, come with me?"
𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡
ぃ ⏤ now playing. SINNERS BY ARI ABDUL AND THOMAS LAROSA
"jungwon? what are you doing here? are you okay?" it makes jungwon happy to see you worrying about him, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pant as he watches you walk around the counter to his figure by the door. finding his cerulean blue chevrolet corvette 2lz parked in his usual spot, and him still dressed in the armani and hermès set you saw him in an hour ago when he dropped you off at your uncle's flower shop.
"mhm, just wanted to see my pretty girl again," he grins cockily once you realize there's nothing wrong and he's just trying playing around like always.
albeit to jungwon, it's never been a play and you have never been a toy.
this has been his way of showing you that you're not just another girl he's chasing after; because yang jungwon has never chased as opposed to what you think. and to harbour such deep and honest feelings that compel him to do what he has never done, that should have given you the hint by now. perhaps he'll just have to try a tad bit harder.
"how do you wear this?" he struts inside, passing by you to the space behind the counter you previously stood at, dangling a lone apron by his pinky and raising his brows at you, waiting. "your clothes will get dirty!" your attempts to curb him fall through for jungwon's persistence to stay with you holds like a strong wall, incapable of budging.
"i don't really care," jungwon's hands loop around the strings in a way that has the apron falling off making you giggle as you give in and just step in to help him,"idiot, that's not how you do it," you mumble.
and all he can think of is how he wants to be your idiot.
"how does this look? i think it looks so pretty on you," he says, putting a messy wreath on your head. to jungwon there's always flowers blooming everywhere you go, sweet scent overtaking all his scenes believing that's how you intoxicated him.
you slap away his hands in a shy chuckle that he doesn't understand, did he say something wrong? not aware and quite literally clueless of his own effect. by the time the sun sets down, you're asleep with your head down on the counter, facing him. and jungwon admires the way you looks so pretty, prettier than any flower.
𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜
ぃ ⏤ now playing. STUCKINMYBRAIN BY CHASE ATLANTIC
"riki?" oh. you're here? riki looks up at the sound of your footsteps getting closer, halting a metre away from him, like you always do, not too close, not too far and it drives him crazy. "what are you doing here?" you ask, confused to find him waiting outside your mundane apartment building with his out of place red ferrari sf90.
"uh, you left this in the car last time," he fumbles out a dior liquid blush, clearly brand new and a shade you have never used before.
"that's not mine," giggling, you walk over to the other side, opening the passenger seat door to fish out the gloss you actually did leave and waving it in the air to show him,"this is mine richboy," the soft sounds of laughter, your teasing voice.
his favorite thing in the world as of late.
you who has him smitten with infatuation, unable to get you off his mind no matter how much he tries. you who never gives him the answer he wants but never pushes him away either. you who makes him feel like a pathetic loser, you who makes him want to try as many times as he can to win your heart.
"it's a gift," he quickly improvises, wanting you to accept it, of getting a chance to give you something. "you're gifting me a blush?" you question and it throws him off, blush?,"wait, it's not a lipgloss— i, i had no idea, i have never—" riki swears, he really had no clue,"bought makeup?" he nods and it makes you burst into a fit of laughter again. it warms his heart, leaning against his car and watching you with eyes that speak volumes of his feelings.
feelings that anyone could notice, anyone but you.
he lets you revel in his silly naivety, content to know you are not longer sad as you were a few days ago.
"now this suits you pretty little face," he says once you seem to calm down, bewildered at his sudden compliment while he walks over to you.
cupping your face and caressing your cheeks,"so pretty," mumbling under his breath, loud enought to reach your ears,"it's boring when you cry, baby," his lips hover over your own as both of your heartbeats pick up in sync, breath getting caught up at the shift in the atmosphere. "let's go on a drive, we'll get you a bunch of pretty glosses to wear for me,"
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TAGLIST ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz @shawnyle @potato0579 @enhastolemyheart @ro-diaries @aaa-sia @okwonyo @snoopypupp @enhabooks @jjunae @criminalyun
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eddiesghxst · 9 months
Text
LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACCIÓN - AN EDDIE MUNSON X READER AU
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credit for cute lil cut off divider: @cafekitsune
————
18+ — MINORS DNI
pairing: eddie munson x pornstar!reader
summary: eddie is short on rent this month and needs quick cash, luckily he stumbles upon an ad for casting in an adult film and finds himself shooting a porno with you
contains: strangers to lovers trope, drug and alcohol use, mentions of smoking, awkward situations, oral (f and m receiving), p in v (unprotected — be safe pls), mentions of people being judgemental of readers line of work, mentions of anal, slightly exhibitionism, lots of smut, a sliver of mechanic!eddie, and eddie being the charming loser he's always been <3
word count: 13.5k (i am so fucking sorry omg)
-masterlist-
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Eddie might be way in over his head.
Eddie’s been naked in front of groups of people before (the high school boy's locker room is a scary place to be, honestly), but never in those awful days of forced physical education was Eddie’s dick the center of everyone’s attention.
It’s weird, no doubt about it, standing at the front of a conference room with a table full of producers and writers and whatnot just… ogling Eddie’s naked frame.
“Can you lift your dick, please? So we can see your balls.”
Yeah. This is definitely going at the top of Eddie’s ‘weird things I’ve done for money’ list.
Still, Eddie reaches down and presses his dick up against his lower stomach to give his audience an unrestricted view of his balls.
Jesus.
“Okay, you can put your clothes back on.”
Honestly, Eddie wouldn’t be in this situation if it weren’t for Robert, the manager at Eddie’s job— well, old job. 
Robert had some kind of weird fucking vengeance out for Eddie. Maybe it was because Eddie came back high from, like, most of his lunch breaks, but should that really matter if Eddie still got the job done? How coherent do you have to be to organize music records by name? Not very fuckin’ much.
Robert disagreed, though, so he fired Eddie.
Robert was an asshole, though, and whenever Eddie would nicely warn him, ‘Hey, Rob, I’m gonna be out of town next Saturday,’ Robert would still fucking schedule him to close on that exact day! 
Good riddance.
Except now, Eddie’s short on rent for the month, which is why he’s found himself standing fully naked in a room full of adult filmmakers.
Eddie’s almost dropped out of this deal ten times by now. He wasn’t sure if he was keen on the idea of his bare, naked body being out for the entire world and future generations to see. But then Eddie thought about it, and, well, he’s got a pretty decent cock. It’s an average size, and it’s not weird looking or anything, and his balls don’t sag— and, like, isn’t his dick primarily the star of the show? Eddie Jr. could pass for a star, Eddie thinks, and so do the people looking at it right now. 
And he also really fucking needs the money, so. Porn it is.
Whatever.
Eddie could deal with it as long as he gets enough money to keep a roof over his head. Which reminds him— “Hey, uh, how much will I be getting paid, by the way?”
Eddie’s now fully clothed, car keys in hand, and ready to go now that he’s been dismissed, and he’s scratching the back of his neck as he waits for an answer.
One of the men at the table (Eddie thinks his name is Brian, but he’s not 100% sure) glances up at Eddie from the pile of papers he’d been sorting through, “Eight hundred for the booking and ten percent from the sales.”
Which, yeah, that covers Eddie’s rent. It also leaves a little bit of change in Eddie’s pocket, so “Sweet.” Eddie nods.
So, Eddie follows one of the assistants to her office, where she hands Eddie a file with the word SCRIPT written in bold and red letters, “Read over it, practice the lines a few times, do whatever you need to do to prepare for Friday.” She kindly smiles.
She’s sweet. Short, stout, and pretty, and she has these cute glasses that remind Eddie of a ladybug. Eddie takes the manila folder, bowing his head with a cheesy smile, “Thank you, Emily.” 
“So, will I be getting a costume? Do pornos still have those dramatic plots with, like, pirates and shit?” Eddie rambles as he cracks the folder open to take a gander.
Emily snorts, “Sure, but unfortunately, you’re not a pirate for this one,” Eddie glances at her and dramatically pouts, “You will be taking on the role of a neighbor. Pretty simple and easy, not much setup needed, but I’m sure you’ll see that when you read over the script.”
Eddie looked over the script as soon as he got in his van, and Emily was right: there’s not much setup at all. There’s a few cheesy lines, cliche porno shit that definitely gets skipped over, and then they go straight to fucking. Eddie tries to run his lines a few times, but then he fails miserably, so he ends up tossing the script in his passenger seat and making a mental note to look at it later.
How hard can it be?
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Apparently pretty fucking hard.
It’s Friday, and Eddie’s a chaotic mess as he walks in through the doors of the film studio. He’d just spent the last 30 minutes in his van trying to practice his lines, but Eddie was never the greatest theater kid, and the lines wouldn’t stick, so he ended up smoking a joint to ease his nerves.
People are bustling around the room, calling out orders and setting up lights, mics, furniture— the whole mile. It’s an entire ordeal that Eddie has walked into, and for a second, Eddie forgets that he’s one of the actual stars when someone walks up to him and says, “You're the new talent?”
“Huh?”
“New talent. Are you the guy we’re filming today?”
Eddie glances around and catches a glimpse of a half-naked girl eyeing him from across the room as a lady fixes her hair for the cameraman. She’s pretty. Gorgeous, actually. Nice body and soft-looking skin that Eddie would like to sink his teeth into and leave pretty little marks.
“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m Eddie.”
“Good. You’re late.”
Shit. Eddie must’ve lost track of time while practically hacking up a lung in his hotboxed van.
The person drags Eddie to a vanity and nudges him toward the high chair, “You’ll get your hair and makeup done, then we should be rolling in about half an hour.” 
It’s jarring, really, seeing the amount of work that goes into the shitty raunchy films Eddie jacks off to, but it’s captivating nonetheless. Eddie can see the movement behind him through the vanity mirror, but he’s more focused on the pretty girl still posing for the camera. If that’s the girl Eddie will be working with, then this will be way easier than Eddie thought it would be because he’s already getting hard. Some might call it pathetic, but oh well.
“Hiya, hon! You the new talent?” A chirpy girl walks up behind Eddie, pearly white teeth and glossed lips working in tandem as she chews her gum and blows a quick bubble. She doesn’t wait for Eddie’s response as she digs her fingers into Eddie’s curly strands, tossing and gently pulling them about to see what she’s working with. 
Her name is Nicki. She’s friendly and very talkative; Eddie comes to learn, because for the majority of the time that she’s working on Eddie’s hair, her mouth is running nonstop. Eddie doesn’t mind, though; honestly, it helps to take his mind off of whatever the fuck he’s gotten himself into.
Emily, the assistant from earlier, walks up to the vanity, her cute ladybug glasses slipping down her nose as she steps into Eddie’s view— and Eddie is happy to see a familiar and kind face. “Will you be needing a fluffer?”
Eddie blinks, eyes fluttering when the hairstylist dusts his bangs over his lashes, “Uh— a what now?”
Nicki loudly pops her gum as she shakes a can of hairspray, “A fluffer, honey. Someone to jack you off and get you ready for the scene.” 
Eddie’s eyes widened for a split second, and he made the mistake of glancing over at the girl who was still modeling across the room. Her tits are out now, and they’re perfect, and she catches Eddie’s eyes for the second time, and it makes his already stiffened cock stir within his pants.
Eddie shakes his head as he looks back at Emily, his voice higher when he responds, “No, I uh… I think I’m good.”
Which, duh. Eddie's dick is practically breaking the seams of his jeans because of the pretty girl, and it’s only getting worse because now she’s walking toward him dressed in a white robe. “You must be Eddie.”
Eddie’s surprised you know his name, but then he figures, obviously, you must know his name given the fact that you’re about to let him swing his dick near you. “That’s me,” Eddie smiles, “You must be… I’m sorry nobody’s told me anything.” He awkwardly laughs.
You nod with a shrug and tell him your name, “Is this your first time filming?” You ask.
Eddie nods, “Is it that obvious?” He nervously asks. You shrug, “Most guys in the industry need more than a pair of tits to get that hard.” You nod towards Eddie’s crotch— and oh god. How embarrassing! She knows you were checking her out!
“No need to be embarrassed though, Eddie. Pretty soon, you’ll be shoving your cock down my throat, so.”
Eddie’s cock may have gotten harder from those words alone.
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“A rookie? Seriously, Don?”
Your makeup is being done, so you don’t see how your manager rolls her eyes at you. “When I said I wanted someone fresh, I didn’t mean never-been-under-the-camera fresh.” 
The makeup artist finishes with your touch-ups, and you take the opportunity to turn to Don and glare at her, “He doesn’t know what he’s doing, Don.”
The older lady waves a dismissive hand, “He’ll do just fine, babe,” she deadpans. You shake your head, turning to look at the man of the hour. He’s attractive; you’ll give him that. Tall, pretty curly hair, sweet brown eyes, a panty-dropping voice. Sure, he’s attractive, okay. But he’s got no clue how to do this type of thing. Clearly— I mean, you’re literally watching him gaze down at the dildos that have been lined up for you as if he’s never seen one in his life— which you doubt. If he knew how to find an adult filmmaking studio, then he’s definitely seen some fucking dildos.
You suppress a laugh when he accidentally drops a glass dildo, turning back to your manager as you ignore his chorus of apologies to the staff, “My case in point.”
Don fails to hold back a laugh, “So he’s a little off the walls,” she shrugs, “He’s cute though. And his dick is nice. Trust me.”
And, well, she’s not wrong.
Don’s never been one to lie without reason, so unfortunately, Eddie’s cock is nice. Pretty, even. Which is weird because after some time being in this industry, the thrill of a nice-looking cock has gotten lost on you because they practically all look the same— just different shades of colors, really.
But Eddie’s cock is nice in the sense that it’s real. He’s not shot up with steroids to make it overly veiny and big or cleanly shaved or any of that superficial camera-ready shit. No, Eddie is natural. He’s got neatly trimmed curly hairs across his pelvis that smell like his body wash when you nuzzle your nose against it, and he’s big enough to wrap your hand around, but you know the second he pushes inside of you, it will be a nice stretch. He’s cut, and he has a slight curve to the left, and he’s so sensitive his cock jumps when you tap the pearly white drop that leaks from his tip. You giggle, shuffling forward on your knees as you stroke him.
You’re already done with the opening scene, finally. Eddie couldn’t remember any of his lines, so it took a lot longer than it should’ve, but you think it was worth it either way because the way Eddie moans when you finally wrap your lips around his tip is the prettiest sound you think you’ve ever heard.
“F-fuck,” He quietly curses, hips shifting as you swallow more of him. He sinks a slightly shaking hand into your hair, gently cupping your head as you work your mouth over him. Your eyes flutter to gaze up at him, and your stomach flutters at the cocky grin he gives you. “You’ve got such a good little mouth on you, sweetheart. Gonna let me fuck it?”
You hum and nod as best as you can with his cock in your mouth, and he hums, “Open up for me, baby.”
You shift on your knees, finding a comfortable position for the action before blinking up at Eddie, indicating you’re ready. Eddie’s hands are steady and certain as he cups both sides of your head, holding you still as he draws his cock out once before slowly thrusting in until your throat tightens around his tip.
He fills your mouth so perfectly, just enough to where you won’t get bored, but you also won’t get an overly aching jaw, and you can’t wait to feel him inside you. Can’t wait to feel how his cock twitches when he first nestles deep in your walls or how much better the sounds he makes will be.
It’s a nice feeling, having Eddie fuck your mouth, and you usually don’t care much for shots like this because most of the time, it’s either underwhelming or overwhelming, but Eddie fucks your throat in a sense that’s dirty yet so caring. He’s spewing out filthy praises, and you're drooling onto his balls, but he’s looking at you with these soft brown eyes and caressing you so gently you might quiver. Fuck, you really wanted to hate him.
Behind the camera, the director makes a motion for you to cut to the next action, but since your back is to them, Eddie is the one that sees it and gently coaxes you off from his cock, cooing when you let out the smallest whine that only he can hear. He smiles, thumb running beneath your swollen lip to catch the strings of spit and cum, “What? You liked having me down your throat, sweet girl?”
You mewl, pressing your chin into his palm as you nod.
"Yeah. Want it, please?" You whisper. God, you didn’t expect to be fucked out within the first scene. "Aw, maybe next time, princess. You can keep me warm as long as you'd like."
It’s almost embarrassing, how much you like the sound of that and how it makes your tummy flip, but you don’t have much time to think about it because Eddie’s ushering you up from the floor to climb onto the couch and straddle his lap. 
You’re both bare now, and when Eddie had first taken his shirt off, you wanted nothing more than to run your hands down his graffitied chest, but you were too busy sinking to your knees. But now you have the chance, and boy, do you fucking take it.
You marvel as you coast your hands across Eddie’s body, fingertips gliding through fields of inked stories and vast skin. His breath hitches when you graze over his nipples, and his hips shift beneath you, wet cock slipping against your sticky folds. You whimper, grinding down onto him, and he curses as he grabs ahold of your hips. “Y’like them?” He sweetly asks, referring to his tattoos.
"Yeah," you nod, grinding down harder to have his cock nestled between your folds, his ruddy tip nudging your clit. “I can tell you all about them if you want.”
You giggle at his timing, but before you can respond, a director speaks up from the side, “Less talking, please.”
Eddie glances over your shoulder and salutes the man, “Roger that, sir.”
You can’t help but snort at his actions, but you’re quickly hushed when Eddie reaches down to paint his cock between your folds before lining himself up, “Go ahead and sit on it, baby.” He whispers.
You listen, nuzzling your face against his shoulder as you wriggle yourself down the length of his cock.
And god, you love being fucking right. The stretch is so good, better than you had imagined it to be, and you can’t help the high-pitched moan that slips from your lips when Eddie thrusts up into you. 
"O-oh. Oh fuck," You whimper. You’re practically boneless as Eddie fucks you, your entire body just draped over him as his hands dig into your ass to help bounce you on his cock. “Jesus fucking— you feel so good,” He pants, and you mewl, cunt clenching around his cock as he drills up into you. “You gonna cum for me, hm? Be my best girl and cum for me. I know you’ll sound so pretty.” He whispers.
Before you know it, you’re moaning out and writhing in Eddie’s hold, juices dripping down his cock and forming a sticky mess in the patch of curls at his base as you cum.
“Let’s have a shot from the back.” 
Your body feels weightless as you and Eddie change positions so you’re on all fours. You’re blinking through a hazy fog, and it feels so good. Eddie’s hands send chills up your spine as they grip your waist and tug you towards him. 
“Oh, baby, you’re shaking,” Eddie hums, running his hands over the fat of your ass, thumbs digging into the skin to spread you open. You’re so wet you can hear the sticky noise of your folds parting, and Eddie groans as he watches your pussy clench around nothing. “You open up so well for me, sweet girl.” 
Jesus.
You don’t get much of a warning before you feel Eddie lapping and sucking at your cunt, devouring you until you’re nothing but a mess of moans and quivering limbs.
Jesus Christ, that wasn’t in the fucking script. Half of the shit Eddie’s doing isn’t in the fucking script, and it's making your head spin.
God, who is this man?
You whimper his name, reaching a shaky hand back to grapple at his hair, and Eddie nuzzles his face deeper into your cunt, nose nudging your ass in a way that makes your toes curl. He’s good. He’s really good, you’ll give him that.
You and Eddie go at it for about an hour, switching positions and pausing every now and then to get a good shot of your cunt wrapped around Eddie’s cock, or Eddie’s tongue lapping over your clit or tits.
And it's fun doing this with Eddie.
Eddie is like a breath of fresh air. Most guys in this industry are stuck up and make things annoyingly serious, and most girls are either bitchy or just want to get it over with, which you don’t blame them for. 
But Eddie makes things feel so normal— like you’re just two best friends getting filmed having sex— because he keeps whispering tiny jokes to make you giggle. He tells you how pretty you sound and look, and he’s so incredibly clueless because he keeps leaning in and asking things like, “Is this, like, a good angle for the camera?” and “Should I maybe kiss you more?” and “Is it okay if I stop fucking you for a second? Because I’m about to blow.”
And all you can do is breathlessly moan and nod because he’s plunging himself so deep into you that it almost hurts, but it’s so good.
You’re so fucked out you barely even register Eddie’s words when he tells you he’s about to cum, but your body immediately reacts when he pats your hip, indicating for you to get ready.
You scramble down from the couch, limbs weighted from pleasure as you settle on your knees, batting your lashes up at Eddie as he towers over you, stroking his wet cock. Eddie rests a hand on your head, fingers grasping your hair to keep you still as he gazes down at you. You’re impatient, so you can’t help but let yourself sneakily lick the tip of his cock, and he grins, “It’s coming, precious girl. Stick your tongue out for me.”
You shuffle closer, sticking your tongue out as you eagerly await the taste of Eddie on your tongue— and when you get it, god, you never want it to stop. Everything about it is perfect: the way his face twists up, the way he tastes, the pretty moans he lets out. You want it on repeat.
You might buy this film just to relive it.
You take every last drop Eddie has to give you with a happy hum; a little bit catches your lip, and Eddie swipes it with his thumb before bringing it to his mouth and suckling. You whine, frowning and causing Eddie to laugh, “You got most of it, sweetheart. Can’t be too greedy, can you?”
It’s like you’re both in your own world. Only talking to each other and enjoying each other's bodies because Eddie just… it’s weird, but he makes the room go away. He makes things feel less performative— and maybe it’s just your hazy, blissed-out state of mind, but you think you might like Eddie.
You’re snapped from your trance when the director yells cut, and then everyone’s springing into action to tear down the set because another crew will be using it next. Eddie helps you stand on your wobbly legs, “You alright?”
You nod, “Great. You did good, by the way.”
Eddie leans forward and grabs your robe that had been pushed to the side. He smiles as he holds it open for you, “Thank you. You did pretty awesome yourself.” He responds as you slink your arms through the sleeves.
You turn to Eddie as you close your robe and tie it shut. Your assistant, Emily, hands Eddie a robe for himself, and he thanks her, curtly bowing his head as he grabs the plush article. “So,” Eddie starts as he slips on the robe. You both start walking towards the dressing rooms as he speaks, “Think I could make a career for myself here?” He asks. 
You halt at that, turning to Eddie with a confused look, “Is that… is that not why you’re here?” You ask.
Eddie shakes his head as he ties his robe, “Nah, I got fired from my job. Needed some cash for rent this month.” He explains.
Is it selfish to say you’re disappointed to hear this? If Eddie had been wanting to join this industry, you would’ve had the opportunity to work with him again. But maybe it’s more selfish to say you’re happy he isn’t joining this industry. Eddie becoming an adult film star would mean half of the time, he’d be fucking other people, and unfortunately, that idea alone makes your gut twist with jealousy.
You nod, pursing your lips as you fiddle with your fingers, “Well… would you be interested in this type of thing?” You try your best to sound casual about it, and you think it works because Eddie only shrugs again with a short hum, “I don’t know. Wouldn’t be opposed to it, I guess.”
Before you can respond, Emily calls your name, “Don needs to speak with you in the other room about your next shoot.”
You turn back to Eddie and try to commit his pretty brown eyes to memory, “I guess I’ll see you around, Eddie.” You smile. Eddie smiles back and does somewhat of a dramatic bow, and you snort as you walk off.
You glance over your shoulder as you walk with Emily.
“Could you do me a favor?” You ask her. Emily nods, and you take one last glance at Eddie before he disappears into the dressing room. 
“Get his number for me. And leave it in my purse, please.”
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A couple of weeks have passed since Eddie made his big debut in the film world.
Eddie made a pretty penny from that film, enough to pay his rent and have some play money on the side. Thankfully, Eddie doesn’t have to scramble for cash this month again because he got a job at the mechanic shop downtown. It’s a lot of labor and a lot of hours, but the pay is good, and nobody gives a shit if Eddie comes back from lunch smelling like a dispensary, so.
Suck that, Robert.
However, Eddie’s still thoroughly surprised to see you sitting in the shop office when he returns from a quick smoke break. “Woah, funny seeing you here. Car problems?” He questions. Eddie tries not to think about the fact that he’s seen you completely bare before. Tries not to think of how he’d spent over an hour in your guts last month or how you swallowed his load like it was nothing. Eddie fails miserably.
You shake your head as you stand up from the leather couch in the office, grabbing your purse as Eddie walks closer to you, “No, actually, Lola’s doing great.”
Eddie cocks his head, “Lola?”
You nod, “My car.” You gesture out towards the window where your car is parked. Eddie makes an understanding noise as he nods. 
“I was actually hoping to talk to you.” 
Eddie pauses at that, confusion settling over his body as he looks at you. You’re beautiful, kind, soft eyes with soft, pretty lips that Eddie thinks about kissing when he goes to bed. Eddie points to himself with raised eyebrows, “Me?”
You nod again, “Yeah, about like… my job and stuff.”
Oh.
Ohhhh.
“Oh, shit, yeah, um,” Eddie glances around the office and nods, “Yeah, we can step out and talk, like, in my van, maybe?” He offers. Not because he’s, like, ashamed to talk about porn or something, most people watch it! But a few of the guys that work here are downright dipshits, and Eddie won’t hesitate to punch one of them if they say some sly shit about you or your job. And, well, Eddie would like to keep his job, so.
You don’t take offense to it, though; you just nod with your pretty smile and tell Eddie to lead the way.
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Eddie’s van smells like weed, cologne, and a hint of whatever he had for lunch.
“Sorry,” Eddie mumbles as he clears off the passenger seat that’s filled with bottles of different drinks, rolling papers, food wrappers, and things of the like. “She’s seen better days.” 
You smile nonetheless, thanking him when he steps away and holds the door open for you. You hop into the seat, glancing around as Eddie shuts your door and jogs to the driver's seat.
He gets in with a heavy sigh, hair unruly from the wind, brown eyes wide and excited when he looks at you. “Hey.” He huffs with a smile, and there’s a piece of hair in Eddie’s bangs that’s sticking straight up. “Hey.” You giggle, reaching out to fix the rebellious strand. Eddie softly thanks you, and you swear you see a hint of pink dust across his cheeks.
He shifts in his seat, rubbing his hands against his thighs as he sighs again, “So… what’s up?”
God, he’s so cute. So incredibly weird and awkward and cute. He looks handsome in his navy blue coveralls, grease stains smeared across his torso, and some sneaky smudges on his neck. “You’re very hard to get ahold of, you know?” You tease.
Eddie’s face twists in confusion, “Huh?”
You shrug, distracting yourself by poking around at his dashboard, sifting through the CDs and tapes he has lying about. Eddie doesn’t stop you; he only watches, and you give him a cheeky smile. “My assistant got your number, right? But then you, like, never answered my calls.” You shrug as you flip through more of his things. You hear Eddie mumble something about needing a new cord for his home phone before he asks louder, " So, how’d you find me?”
God, he must think you’re a stalker or something. You didn’t really think that through, honestly.
You hum, “Just asked around a bit. You’re a bit of a hot commodity around here, by the way. Heard you started a cult? What’s that about?” 
Eddie’s eyes widen at your words, and you laugh, “Oh god. Jesus, no, I didn’t start a cult. I just,” he groans as he pinches the bridge of his nose, “I was just weird in high school.”
“You’re still weird.”
Eddie’s face falters at your words, but you smile as you add, “I like it.”
Eddie blushes again, but he turns to look away this time, and you think he’s the cutest thing you’ve ever set your eyes upon. He turns back to you with a shy grin, “Did you come here just to flirt with me?” He teases, wrapping a strand of his hair around his finger to twirl in a shy manner. “Maybe… but I also have a question.” You respond.
Eddie nods, “Shoot.”
You take a deep breath as you shift in your seat, “Well, uh, I wanted to ask if you maybe…” You glance at Eddie, who's expectantly awaiting your question, and your stomach twists with nerves. Why are you so nervous to ask Eddie for something you’ve already done before?
“Well, I’m doing a shoot tomorrow,” you finally begin, “And I just found out the guy they paired me with is, like, a total asshole— I’ve worked with him before, he’s just… awful,” You explain. “So, I was just… I don’t know; I was just wondering— hoping— you’d be up for it, maybe? To take the guy's place, I mean.”
You finish rambling and glance at Eddie as his eyes widen, “Oh, um. Like— like, film with you again?”
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Eddie could leap for joy right now.
Not only are you, like, the cutest, prettiest, kindest fucking human being to ever grace this earth, but you’re sitting in Eddie’s van, chewing on your lip and asking Eddie to fuck you for the cameras again.
Eddie must’ve done something incredibly right in his past life.
“Oh!” Eddie starts, “ Um… yeah, I’d love to!” What? Weird, take that back. “No, I mean, like, not in a weird way. I just— I’d rather not let the asshole do it if I can do it.”
God, could Eddie sound any more pathetic?
Still, despite how dumb Eddie sounds, you smile and clasp your hands together, “Oh, are you sure? I know it’s last minute, and it’s not really the ideal task—” 
“Woah, wait. What do you mean not the ideal task?” 
Because literally, what do you mean? How could that not be the ideal task? And who made you think that fucking you isn’t the ideal task? If it’s that asshole you were supposed to work with, then Eddie has a few colorful things to say about and to him.
You shrug, fiddling with your fingers in your lap, “Nothing, I just know my job isn’t… you know, traditional or whatever. And you had only done it that one time because you needed it, so I get it if you’re, like, not in the mood to fuck on camera for a bunch of random people.” You ramble. Which, uh, no. You could not be further from the truth. Eddie would love to fuck you on camera for a bunch of random people. Hell, Eddie would love to fuck you under any consensual circumstance, if he’s being honest, so. Yeah, he’s pretty excited.
“No,” Eddie shakes his head, “No, I— I want to, really, I do.” Eddie nods.
Your unsure frown spreads into the prettiest smile before you reach across the center console to pull Eddie into the most bone-crushing, you-scented, chest-warming hug Eddie’s ever been given as you spew out a chorus of thank yous.
“I brought a copy of the script for you to look over so you’re not totally confused,” Eddie watches as you pull back to reach into your bag and pull out a manilla folder. “I usually like to color coordinate my scripts, so I did it for you too. The pink is me, and the red is you, and the specific actions they want us to do are in blue.” You point out. And Eddie thinks he might kiss you right now— you’re so fucking cute!
“Wow, thanks, um… I wish I were, like… good with these types of things, but I think you saw how majestic I am with scripts.” Eddie huffs out a laugh as he scratches the back of his neck. You smile, “I can help you— if you’d like.”
Oh, you’re trying to kill Eddie at this rate.
Eddie nods either way, even though he’s six feet underground and knocking at the fiery gates. “I would love that, actually. I finish work in about three hours if you’re free.”
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Eddie definitely broke a handful of laws while driving home.
Since you offered to help Eddie with his lines, you both decided to meet at Eddie’s place. He gave you his address, told you how to get into the complex, and said see you later. Now, Eddie is ecstatic to see you, obviously, but Eddie can’t remember if his home looked normal or like a Walmart clearance aisle after black Friday, so he ran through multiple stop signs and red lights to get home before you showed up so he could clear things up.
He’s hustling through his apartment like a madman, picking up strewn clothes and cat toys before speeding through the few dishes he had in his sink. Honestly, Eddie’s apartment has seen worse days, so there’s not much cleaning he has to do, but he’s still stressed when he hears a knock on the door. 
Eddie doesn’t even like candles, but he lit one just in case there’s a smell he’s grown used to lingering about. Eddie just doesn’t want you to think he’s a slob. Because he isn’t. He just has an orchestrated chaotic lifestyle.
Eddie couldn’t be happier when he opened his door because there you were, beaming with a smile and a bag of takeout, and Eddie thought it wasn’t normal to be this soft for someone you’d basically just met.
“Welcome to my humble abode,” Eddie dramatically bows with an extended hand to show the entrance of his small, homey apartment. You smile as you walk in, taking in your surroundings.
It’s nothing extraordinary, honestly. Eddie’s home is really just vomit of everything Eddie likes: favorite colors, favorite movies, favorite game characters, etc. It’s like Eddie’s brain exploded and painted itself all over the place. Eddie had a girlfriend many moons ago, and she changed things around to become more coordinated, so now it’s less of a shit show and more of an abstract museum sort of thing.
Whatever. Doesn’t matter anyway because you’re gasping and picking up the little roommate Eddie has. 
“Who’s this?” You coo at the little creature. You’re looking down at the furball as you scratch behind her ear, “That,” Eddie sighs, “Is the reason why I didn’t get your calls.”
You look up at Eddie, confusion written across your face. Eddie points across the room to the wall where his home phone hangs, except the wire is broken. “Little asshole chewed through the wire, and I’ve been slow to replace it. Her name is Banshee.”
The cat meows at the mention of her name, wide eyes blinking up at Eddie as you coddle her. She’s a fluffy cat with a black coat decorated with two white spots: one on her back and the other just behind her ear.
You hum, “So technically,” You drag, “It’s your fault.” You tease. You coo as you press your cheek to the tiny kitten, gazing up at Eddie with these soft eyes, “I don’t think you can blame this cutie for your laziness.” 
Eddie rolls his eyes, wills away whatever power he has to not kiss you, and gently takes the takeout bag from your hands so you have less to carry. “Fine then. Ask her what happened to the laces of my work shoes, too, since she’s so innocent.”
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Eddie’s home is so… Eddie.
He’s got music and horror movie posters framed along his walls, cute little scary figurines randomly placed within his bookshelves, and there’s an overall smell of Eddie’s musk and the sandalwood candle he has burning. It’s cozy, a nice space for one person who enjoys their alone time, and he let you choose a record to play from his extensive collection, and he has the world's cutest little cat, so it’s safe to say you could spend an eternity in Eddie’s world.
“Shit, that wasn’t my line,” Eddie stresses. You smile as Eddie tosses the packet onto his coffee table and falls back onto the couch, “We’re wasting our time here, princess. I dropped out of theater for a reason.” He grumbles.
You sigh, tilting your head against the couch cushion as you gaze at Eddie, “You’re thinking too hard about it.” You say. “It’s a porno, not a Grammy-nominated film.” You point out.
Eddie snorts before giving a short shrug, “For the record, I think you could land a Grammy, sweetheart.” 
You roll your eyes, “Yeah, right. You don’t need to suck up to me, Eddie, you’re already gonna fuck me tomorrow.” You jokingly say.
Eddie waves you off and shifts into a more comfortable position. “So,” He starts, “What’s the asshole guy's deal?” 
Banshee has hopped onto the couch and made her way into your lap, tiny paws kneading the material of your jeans as she settles. You gently pet her as you glance at Eddie and shrug, “Not sure, he’s just a total dick,” You grumble. “I worked with him once last year, and he, like, told me I wasn’t the best or whatever— which, okay, I can totally understand,” You ramble, “I don’t think I’m, like, some sex god. I don’t expect to be everyone or anyone’s best fuck, but still! It just… it didn’t make me feel good, the way he said it.” You windedly explain. You distract yourself with the cute animal in your lap as you finish your explanation, “So, I asked my manager never to pair us again, but—” You shrug.
Next to you, Eddie shifts once more and scoffs. “He’s a fucking shitfaced liar, princess.”
You snort, playfully rolling your eyes, “Eddie—” “No, I’m serious. He’s a liar. Anybody who even gets the chance to touch you is a lucky fucker, okay? If anything, he probably begged your manager to let him work with you again.”
“You’re just saying that. I don’t need you to try and make me feel better, and it was so long ago anyway.” “Yeah, but that’s the thing, I’m not.”
You frown as you gaze over at Eddie, watching as he sits straight and looks at you with a serious gaze in his eyes. “I don’t know what’s up with that guy, maybe he was dropped as a baby too many times, but anybody with common sense and a properly functioning dick knows just how fucking amazing you are. End of discussion.”
And well, it’s pathetic how your chest warms at his words, but it does. And as Eddie goes on to ramble about his hectic week at work, you can’t help but let your mind spin with Eddie’s kind words until nothing is in your mind but the echoes of Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.
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Not many times has Eddie woken up with a girl in his home. Well, at least not a girl that he’s actually liked for more than a one-night stand or a shortly-lived fling.
After running the script for the last time, Eddie suggested putting on a movie and digging into the takeout you’d brought. The meal was delicious, and the movie you’d landed on was hilarious, but it’s hard to keep your eyes open on a full stomach, so when Eddie felt your head drop onto his shoulder, he couldn’t help but let his body sink into the couch and fall asleep too.
You’d woken up about an hour later and tried to make your escape quietly, but Eddie insisted you shouldn’t drive in such a sleepy state, so he let you make yourself comfy in his bed. Banshee, the little traitor, trotted right behind you and left Eddie on the couch to snuggle up beside you for the night.
You’re cute in the morning, Eddie thinks. You have an adorable little pout, and you yawn about 80 times until you’ve had a sip of coffee. 
It takes nearly a lifetime to drag you away from Banshee so you and Eddie can head to the studio because you adore the little asshole, and Banshee loves anything that’ll give her the time of day. You make Eddie promise to let you see her again, though, so you sadly say goodbye with a soft peck to the fluffy area between her eyes and let Eddie drag you to his van.
The car ride is nice; Eddie lets you mess around with the contents of his van and go through the stack of CDs he’s compiled over the years. You land on one of Eddie’s favorites, an old mixtape Wayne made in college that Eddie spent most of his high school blaring loud enough to blow out a speaker.
Today, you’re shooting in a house— a nice one that Eddie could only conjure up in his dreams—but he doesn’t have much time to dwell on it because he’s being dragged over to makeup and hair as soon as he steps in.
“You thinking of joining the industry?” Nicki asks as she works a nice-smelling mousse into Eddie’s hair.
Eddie had been busy watching you talk to one of the producers, but he finds the strength to tear his eyes away and gaze at Nicki through the vanity mirror. “No, not exactly. Just… doing a favor for a friend, I guess.”
Nicki raises an eyebrow, “A friend? Don’t act like I didn’t see you two come in together.”
Eddie’s face warms at that, the tips of his ears turning red as he stutters, “Huh?” 
Nicki looks at Eddie with a ‘Don’t bullshit me’ look.
“I mean, like, yeah, we had breakfast together–” “Mhm.”
Eddie huffs out a gentle laugh, “No, really, we’re friends.”
“Friends that fuck on camera and look at each other the way you two do? Sure.”
Eddie doesn’t ask what Nicki means by that because— well, he knows what Nicki means by that. He’s caught himself looking at you like you put the stars in the sky one too many times, and it’s almost embarrassing. Almost.
But can you blame Eddie? Can you really blame him when you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, the softest smile, the greatest laugh, and the sweetest personality? It’s not Eddie’s fault that you’re perfect.
Eddie just thinks you’re neat. 
He thinks you’re amazing, actually, and it’s hard to remember his fucking lines when you’re standing under a steaming shower, wet body glistening and pebbled nipples practically begging for his mouth.
He’s butchering the script, that’s for sure, but he figures it’s not too bad since nobody’s corrected him. 
The scene starts with you taking a shower and Eddie being a peeping tom, which ultimately leads to Eddie sinking to his knees and licking into you until you’re a quivering, sticky mess on his tongue. Eddie would spend forever on his knees, between your legs, if he could because you taste heavenly and sound better than any song Eddie’s ever listened to, and that says something.
Your fingers thread through the wet strands of Eddie’s hair, and Eddie rapidly blinks when he gazes up at you, only to get an eyeful of his wispy bangs. You smile, petting back his bangs so he can see, and he hums, nudging his face further against you, his tongue teasing more, fingers curling deeper.
It doesn’t take long to make you cum, and the second you do, Eddie is standing up, shutting off the shower, and ushering you out into the expansive main bathroom. It’s almost as if it’s just Eddie and you in the room. No cameras, no directors or producers, or that weird pervy lighting guy that compliments you way too fucking much for Eddie’s liking. It’s just you and Eddie.
“Let’s do an over-the-counter shot next.”
Fuck. It’s not just you two, actually.
What a buzz kill.
Either way, Eddie finds himself pressing your wet, naked waist down against the sink, smiling when you squeal at the cold marble touching your skin. “Stick your ass out, baby, let me see that gorgeous ass.” 
You mewl as you follow Eddie’s instructions, tipping your hips back to present yourself to him and the cameras. You’re dripping. Swollen and wet and throbbing, and Eddie— god, Eddie feels like a fucking animal.
“Got such a pretty pussy, honey. All wet and ready for me, hm?” He teases, gently running his fingers through the sticky arousal between your legs. You shakily breathe as you nod your head, “Yeah. All for you. Please.”
Eddie steps forward, grabbing his cock and painting it between your swollen lips as he hooks his other arm across your shoulders, pulling you back to press against his chest. He presses a wet kiss to the skin of your cheek in front of your ear, voice dry and needy as he whispers in your ear, “You’re so fuckin’ pretty,” His eyes catch yours in the mirror as you keen. “Ask me to fuck you.”
You whimper out loud, wriggling your hips back into his as your hands grip the counter, “P-please fuck me. Please. Need it so bad, want your cock so bad I— o-oh.”
The slide to home base is fucking otherworldly. It was life-changing the first time, and it’s life-changing now, and if Eddie ever gets the chance to fuck you again, he knows it’ll be life-changing then.
You’re so warm, and you're sucking Eddie’s cock in so nicely, so sinfully, that Eddie almost makes a deal with the devil right then and there. Your chest is heaving by the time Eddie’s pelvis presses to your bum, his cock nestled deep into your pulsing cunt. Eddie leans forward, pressing his chest against your back as he loops an arm around your shoulders, holding you tight to him as he gives one slow thrust. He coos when your eyes flutter shut, and your jaw drops, a shaky hand reaching up to sink your nails into Eddie’s forearm.
“S-so deep,” You slur, wriggling your hips back against Eddie.
Eddie grunts, “Fuck. You feel so good, baby. Always so warm and ready for me, hm?” Eddie’s lips are wet against your jaw as he whispers into your ear, and you nod with a mewl.
Eddie works up the pace relatively fast in favor of the cameras, and at some point, he reaches down to grip the thick of your thigh and haul your leg up to rest on the counter so you’re spread open even more. The angle makes it easier for him to catch your spot, and it’s better for the camera to capture the sight of your soaking pussy wrapped around Eddie’s cock, dribbling onto both of your thighs and creating a sticky ring of arousal at the base of Eddie’s dick.
Eddie’s hand is wrapped around your throat when you begin twitching around him, mumbling promises of your climax, and Eddie doesn’t waste time in sinking his hand between your legs to help you reach the edge quicker. Your moans fall silent, eyes squeezed shut, and jaw dropped wide open as Eddie fucks you through your orgasm— and fuck, you feel so good. Squeezing and pulsing and dripping around Eddie’s thighs, throat vibrating beneath his palm when air comes back to you.
“There we go, baby. Get it all out, push it out, honey.” Eddie encourages you.
You’re shaking, trembling like a leaf in Eddie’s arms, and Eddie wants to spend forever tucked into your pussy, warm skin sticky against him, pretty little whines and mewls coating his brain in this cutesy pink fog that makes him want to fucking marry you.
Get you a home, give you his babies, maybe even get you a fucking dog and just live happily goddamn ever.
Jesus, Eddie’s a goner.
“F-fuck, I’m gonna cum.”
Eddie pulls out last second, jerking himself off between your cute ass cheeks until he’s spurting white ropes of cum up your back.
Eddie, ever the considerate man he is, pushes your hair out of the way to avoid getting any of his sticky release in it. You’re breathing heavily, pretty eyes glazed over as you glance back at Eddie, a shy glint in your eyes at the sight of your skin painted in his cum.
Eddie’s obsessed with you now, no doubt.
His ringed fingers slide through the sticky mess on your skin as he grips your ass cheeks, gently spreading them apart and humming when you arch your back, proudly swaying your ass in front of him. The sight makes Eddie dizzy; pools of cum dripping down your back to slink its way through your ass and over your sticky folds. “You’ve got such a cute little hole, baby.” Eddie compliments, taking his thumb and smearing his cum over the puckered muscle, softly laughing when you whine. 
He lightly slaps your ass then, reaching forward to gently grasp your face with his messy hands and pull you back to press a firm kiss over your lips. His thumb, the one that had smeared his cum over your tight hole, sinks between your moving lips, pushing into your mouth and onto your tongue as he whispers a small command to taste it, and you mewl.
“So good, princess—”
“Cut!”
You both jolt at the booming voice, getting rudely snapped out of the daze you’d fallen into. 
These fucking cameras.
You smile, dropping your cheek onto your shoulder as you bat your eyelashes up at Eddie from over your shoulder, “You’re a natural, Eddie, you know that?”
Eddie huffs a laugh, thanking the assistant when they bring you towels and robes.
“Well,” He breathes as he slinks the robe over his shoulders, watching as you do the same, “I’ve got the best coach.” He winks.
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Now that you and Eddie have done two films together and basically had a sleepover, you’re practically inseparable.
It’s funny, really. Eddie thought maybe the fact that you’ve seen each other bare and had sex on camera might hinder the aspect of any friendly connection because, well, Eddie’s never done this before! He’s not a pornstar, so he’s not sure how the friendship/relationship aspect of it works, but luckily, it’s easier than most normal friendships Eddie’s had before.
You talk almost every night over the phone (Eddie finally fixed the wire), going over one another’s day and laughing at embarrassing or funny moments. You go on for hours until either one of you falls asleep, and it’s usually you since Eddie has the sleep schedule of a newborn baby who doesn’t know the difference between night and day. All the better for him, though, because he gets to poke fun at you the next day and tease you about how you sometimes snore.
And Eddie loves listening to you talk— could spend hours cuddled up with Banshee as he listens to you ramble on about whatever new show you’re watching or the latest gossip at work. It’s Eddie’s favorite part of his day, talking to you, so he kicks himself when he realizes he forgot to call you last night.
He’s getting ready for bed when he remembers, and he practically sprints to his phone on his nightstand and dials your number in less than thirty seconds. It takes you three rings to answer, and Eddie smiles at the sound of your voice, “Hello?”
“Hi, princess,” Eddie responds.
You gasp, “Eddie, hi! Oh, I was just about to call you! Where have you been?” You ask. Eddie groans, dropping back onto his mattress with spread arms. “Working. I’m so sorry I forgot to call. I just started a new schedule at the shop, and the hours are awful.”
Eddie can hear your frown when you respond, “Bummer. I’ve got a way to cheer you up, though.”
Eddie’s eyes are closed, and sleep is so heavy in his bones he feels like he’s sinking through the mattress, but he smiles as if it’s second nature when he responds, “Hit me.”
You cheer, and Eddie hears the rustling of grocery bags on your end as you speak, “My manager gave me a shit ton of holiday chocolates she had left over, and well, I was wondering if you’d like to drown yourself in sugar with me?” 
Eddie softly laughs, folding his arm to rest his hand on his tummy as he nods, forgetting you can’t see. “You didn’t even have to ask.”
The drive from your flat to Eddie’s is typically around twenty minutes, but with the benefit of it being nearly midnight and most normal people being in bed by now, you’re knocking on Eddie’s door in just a little under twelve minutes. 
Eddie opens the door to let you in and immediately just wants to kiss you. You’re dressed in an oversized sweatshirt, loose pajama pants with cute little ducks printed on them, and fluffy house slippers. You grin up at Eddie as you lift a bag full of candy, “I come bearing gifts!”
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Eddie had been exhausted all day, but now that he’s had two handfuls of sugary treats, he’s ready to run a fucking marathon.
He’s sucking on a sour apple jawbreaker and watching some shitty romcom with Banshee curled in his lap when he feels your head softly drop onto his shoulder. He glances down at you and sees the soft flutter of your eyes, “Are you tired? You can take my bed.” He offers.
You tilt your head to blink up at him tiredly, “Will you come with me?”
And well, Eddie was originally going to take the couch, but you’re looking up at him with these cute, bleary eyes, and Eddie can’t even imagine saying no. So, he shuts his TV off, makes a mental note to clean up the candy wrappers sometime tomorrow, and lets you drag him off to his room.
Banshee decided to take advantage of the new space on the couch and sprawl out, so Eddie doesn’t have to worry about asking if you’re okay with her cuddling up on his bed like she usually does. 
Eddie doesn’t do this very often— sleep with other people in his bed, he means. And sure, he’s had partners before that would stay the night here and there, but he hasn’t had that in over a year now, so it’s safe to say that Eddie’s a little bit nervous.
He doesn’t know if you want to be close, but considering how cuddly you are on a daily basis, he’s not surprised when you press yourself into his side with a content sigh, snuggling deeper into the warm covers. He turns, shifting to wrap his arms around your frame, trying his best to ignore the fast beating of his heart in his chest— but that’s not the main issue. The bigger problem is— “Eddie? Are you hard?”
Shit.
God, this is awful. Nothing even remotely sexual happened, and Eddie’s popping a boner and practically stabbing your stomach. Fuck, you probably think he’s a perv now. Nice going.
“No.”
It falls silent for a moment, and Eddie can feel the quiver of your body as you giggle into his shoulder. He smiles, an embarrassed blush rising over her cheeks as he lifts a hand to palm at his eye, “I’m so fucking sorry.”
You turn in Eddie’s arm, pressing a hand to Eddie’s shoulder to lay him on his back. You stay lying by his side, body pressed to him, head resting on his shoulder. You nose at the curly strands of hair on Eddie’s neck, and your hand runs down his torso, fingertips dipping beneath the waistband of his sweats. “O-oh. No, you don’t need to, princess.” Eddie says, yet his voice is shaky and holds anticipation as you drag your nails through the coarse hair leading to his cock. 
“I want to. Please?” You ask. And you’re so good, so obedient, not touching Eddie’s cock until he swallows and nods his head yes. You wriggle, like a happy pup that got a treat, and your hand sinks lower, wrapping around the thick of Eddie’s cock.
Eddie’s breath hitches, sinking into the feeling of your warm hand stroking up his cock, your thumb running over his leaking tip. Eddie curses, hips twitching up into your hold, and you press a kiss to his jaw, and Eddie nearly bursts into stars.
You press another kiss to his jaw, soft and sweet, and Eddie slinks an arm around you, sinking his hands into your hair and shakily breathing. “You keep kissing me like that, and I’m gonna— fuck.”
And it’s so pathetic; you’ve only had your hand down his pants for less than five minutes, and Eddie’s quivering like a virgin having their first time. God, this is so embarrassing.
You kiss Eddie once more, “Wait, wait. Not yet.”
And then you shuffle away from Eddie, and he’s frowning because he feels cold without you snuggled against him. But then you’re sinking underneath the covers, and Eddie’s cursing, “W-what are you doing, honey?”
He lifts the covers just as you wriggle your way between his legs and hook your fingers over the band of his sweats. You peel his sweats away, mouth opening like a hungry lion when Eddie’s cock pops out. You push the front band of his sweats to catch just below his balls, and Eddie’s hips squirm from the pressure making you giggle when his cock twitches.
You loop your fingers around his cock, twisting up on a long stroke, “Did I ever tell you how pretty your cock is, Eddie?”
Jesus Christ.
Eddie breathes shakily through his nose, tummy quivering as your gaze flickers; he shakes his head no. Eddie sinks a hand to pet your hair back, smiling when you nuzzle into his touch, letting your lips brush against his tip, “You think it’s pretty, baby?” He asks.
You nod, letting your tongue loll out of your mouth to catch the pearl of pre-cum dripping from his tip. You don’t say anything else as you lean forward and wrap your mouth around him, languidly taking him as far as you want and sucking him for all he’s worth.
Eddie’s head drops back then, his entire body just losing strength to do anything as you slowly fuck your mouth over him. The blanket falls over you then, and Eddie curses, scrambling to push it back over your head so you don’t, like, suffocate on his cock.
And Eddie was already close before, so it doesn’t take long for him to start cursing and warning you that he’s gonna cum. Before he knows it, he’s emptying himself into the warm cavern of your mouth, soft mixes of curses and your name tumbling from his mouth as you happily take every last drop.
You pull off of him with a small pop, licking up the small remnants of cum that drool down his cock. Eddie feels weightless now; the effects of sugar are long gone now that you practically sucked his soul through his dick. You tuck Eddie back into his pants, and as if you couldn’t get any cuter, any sweeter, you press a gentle kiss to Eddie’s tummy right where the waistband sits.
Eddie’s got a loopy grin on his face when you crawl back up to snuggle back into his side, mumbling something about how you love licking his cock. Eddie nearly dies, by the way.
He thinks he’s in love with you, maybe.
You breathe in deep, draping an arm across Eddie’s tummy and slinking your leg between his, and you sigh all sleepy and cute as you say, “G’night, Eddie.”
Yeah. Eddie’s definitely in love with you.
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Weeks go by as you and Eddie become thick as thieves.
You carry on with your nightly calls, obviously, but now there’s a healthy mix of one of you going to the other's home and crashing there for the night, then that bleeds into the next day where you just spend hours with each other doing fuck all.
Eddie just likes being around you. You don’t have to be doing anything particularly fun or sexual; no, Eddie just enjoys your company. And most times, you and Eddie will be doing your separate little activities— you reading or watching a movie while Eddie writes up new campaign ideas for Dustin— and you will reach out to twirl a strand of Eddie’s hair around your knuckle and gently tug or poke your finger into his cheek where his dimples reside and Eddie just melts.
Most of the time, you’re only doing it for your peace of mind (Eddie knows because you told him when he asked), but something tells him maybe you actually have something to say when you poke Eddie’s cheek for the third time.
He turns to you, brows raised and hiding beneath his bangs that so badly need a trim, “Yes, doll?”
You smile now that his attention is on you, and you shift, careful not to wake Banshee in your lap from your movements. Eddie thinks Banshee might like you more than she likes him, which is just downright traitorous, considering Eddie’s the one who feeds her and keeps a roof over her head. He doesn’t really blame the cat, though. 
“What are you doing on Saturday?” You ask.
Eddie hums, closing his notebook and leaning back into his couch, “This Saturday?”
You nod, and Eddie shrugs, lips pouting as he speaks, “Nothing, I’m pretty sure. Why?”
You sigh heavily, sinking into the couch as you gently pet Banshee behind her ear, “We have an event for work, and I was just wondering if you would maybe wanna tag along?”
Eddie’s head tips in interest, “Sure. Is it, like, fancy dress shit?” He asks. Eddie thinks he has a tux somewhere deep in the trenches of his closet. Probably the one he wore to Wayne's wedding two years ago; he hopes he still fits.
You shrug, “Eh, nothing too fancy schmancy. Slacks and a nice shirt will do,” You mindlessly watch the television, gently rubbing Banshee’s ear between your fingers. “That I can do, princess. But uh,” Eddie pauses, “You don’t seem too ecstatic about this.” He points out.
You shrug, glancing over at Eddie, and Eddie wants to kiss your pouty lips because you look adorable swallowed up in a throw blanket with sleepy eyes blinking up at him. “S’cause I’m not,” You huff, “I hate those ignorant assholes— don’t get me wrong, some of them are good friends of mine! But most of them are just…” You make a face and roll your eyes, and Eddie softly laughs. You let your head lazily turn to gaze at him, “Don says I have to go, though. So I figured I may as well drag someone I actually enjoy being around.” You softly smile.
Eddie’s heart flutters and grows three times the size of his body.
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Saturday night comes quicker than most, and Eddie spends nearly an hour digging through his closet. By the time Eddie finds a nice enough shirt to pair with his neatly ironed (to Eddie’s standard, which is probably not very high) slacks, he’s running behind and starts to stress that he won’t pick you up on time, and he’s just totally made an ass of himself.
It’s five o’clock when Eddie gets to your flat, and when he knocks on your door, he’s out of breath because he smokes more than a godman grill, and he skipped every other step on the staircase to get there quicker. He’s thinking of a million ways to apologize for being late, and he thinks he has it right when you open the door, but then— “Oh. Hey Eds! You’re early!”
Eddie huffs, nearly doubling over in exhaustion because he seriously needs to quit smoking, “Wha– early?”
You hold the door open for Eddie to step in and nod. You’re in a white fluffy robe with house boots on, and your hair is tied back, so you have a clear canvas to work with for your makeup. “Yeah, it starts at seven.” 
And, oh, what the fuck? Here Eddie was stressing and thinking he’d completely ruined his chances with you because he decided to be an asshat and lose track of time on his video games, but in reality, he’s nearly two hours early?!
“Oh, but now you can help me pick a dress. Come on.”
No, Eddie has zero complaints, actually. He’s grateful that he’s timely challenged, he thinks as you drag him toward your room.
Eddie spends the next thirty minutes or so seated at the foot of your bed, judging whichever dresses you surprise him with from out of your closet.
It isn’t easy to give a solid answer because, well, you look good in all of them. And Eddie’s not even being biased because he’s got a sickening crush on you— no, you genuinely look amazing in every dress.
“Eddie, you’ve said yes to all of them.” You huff. “Because they all look good!” Eddie exclaims.
You frown, resting your hands on your hips and tilting your head at him. Eddie shrugs, “I don’t know why you’re upset with me when it’s technically your fault.” He points out, to which you roll your eyes and jokingly throw a dress at his face.
It takes a while for you to decide; by the time you’ve figured it out, there’s about forty minutes until the event begins.
The dress you landed on is evil, to say the least.
It’s a black puffy babydoll-style dress, except instead of a poofy top half, it’s tight fitting and pushes your chest up to sit nice and pretty, and the straps are thin, and Eddie thinks about the sound you’d make if he just reached out and teasingly snapped it against your skin. Wants to coo when you squirm and mewl and press yourself into him.
And the dress is so short, long enough to cover everything, but you wouldn’t have to bend over very far to flash a lucky person, and the sight of your thighs makes Eddie’s head spin.
He doesn’t know where the courage comes from because Eddie is anything but bold when it comes to people he has ridiculous crushes on, but Eddie couldn’t help himself, watching you bent over the sink as you do your last touch-ups to your makeup, the way your silky thighs rub against one another when you shift to get closer to the mirror— Eddie didn’t stand a chance.
He’s behind you before he knows it, and you’re smiling at him through the mirror, “Almost done, promise.” You say.
Eddie lets his hand slink around your waist, dropping his head to nuzzle into your neck, brown eyes fluttering up to hold your gaze through the glass as he kisses your skin before playfully nipping at you. You squeal, curling away from him, and he smiles as you push at him. “You’re cute,” Eddie softly says, and he grins, teeth digging into his bottom lip when you shy away from his gaze, “So pretty.” He adds.
Eddie turns you to face him as he presses you against the bathroom sink. He seeks your lips, but you pout and shake your head, “My lipgloss.” 
Eddie huffs out a laugh, shaking his head before pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, careful not to catch any of the sticky application before sinking to his knees, hands gentle and greedy as they caress your thighs.
Eddie leans forward to kiss the inside of your knee, “Gonna let me taste you, honey?” He hums, leaning in the press a kiss further up the inside of your thigh. Your breath hitches, legs subconsciously spreading wider to accommodate Eddie. Your nails dig into the countertop as you shakily breathe, “W-we’re gonna be late,” You weakly say as Eddie lets his tongue draw shapes in your skin. Eddie hums, sucking the fat of your thigh into his mouth before leaving with a pop, lips brushing against your hot skin as he says, “I’ll be quick. Promise.”
He doesn’t wait for your response as he coasts his hands up your thighs to loop his fingers around the band of your panties, dragging them down your legs and helping you step out of them. 
Eddie doesn’t waste time then; he kisses a sloppy wet trail up the inside of your thigh, fingers digging into the fat of your skin and helping you spread open for him so he can nuzzle his head beneath the fluffy tulle of your dress and begin his task of devouring you. You’re wet, dripping, and throbbing for Eddie’s tongue, and this is the third time that Eddie has found himself licking into you, and god, it never gets fucking old.
The sounds you make, the way you writhe, the tiny gasps you give, and then the way your cunt pulses around his tongue— it’s the pinnacle of Eddie’s night, he already knows. 
“E-Eddie— oh,” Your breathy whine makes Eddie stuff his face further into your pussy, nose brushing against your clit as he thrusts his tongue into you, your hands scrambling down to sink into Eddie’s hair and tug.
And it took Eddie longer than he’d like to admit to get his hair slicked into the neat bun he’s sporting, but with his tongue plunged deep inside of you and your pretty moans filling his ears, Eddie can’t seem to care that you’re definitely messing up his hard work.
Eddie could spend eternity here, down on his knees, under the dress of your skirt, lapping at your pussy like it’s the last meal he’ll ever have. And sure, Eddie makes this conclusion, like, every single time he finds himself between your legs, but can you blame him? You’re the sweetest thing he’s ever had the pleasure of dealing with.
You lift a leg to hook over Eddie’s shoulder, the heel of your foot pressing into his shoulder blade and pushing a moan from the depths of Eddie’s chest as he snuggles deeper into you, licking and sucking and nipping. 
“S-so close…” You whimper, thighs beginning to quiver on each side of Eddie’s head. He fixes his grip on your hips because Eddie wouldn’t dream of letting you fall in his presence, and you’re standing on your tiptoes when you fumble over the edge, crying out for Eddie as you soak his tongue.
Eddie’s moaning into you, fingers massaging and caressing the thick parts of your hips and thighs as he continues working you through your orgasm. You’re twitching and heavily breathing when Eddie parts his mouth from your slick folds, strings of arousal and spit snapping and falling to his chin. God, it makes Eddie ache in his pants.
He presses sweet and sticky kisses to the insides of your thighs, savoring every moment he has here, breathing you in, tasting you, feeling you, hearing you. He doesn’t doubt for a moment that he looks like a madman when he brings his head out from under your dress, and you giggle, pressing your hand to your lips.
Eddie wants to hear that noise on repeat. Put his headphones on and, like, clean his house or something. Let your giggles play on a constant loop until they’re engrained into the grooves of his brain so he never has to go a second without hearing them.
“What?” Eddie smiles, hands still under your dress and soothingly squeezing the shaky muscles of your thighs. Your eyes are glazed from pleasure, and you look warm as you speak, “I– your hair,” You laugh. You press the wispy curls of Eddie’s bangs back, “I’m so sorry. It looked so nice, and I messed it up.” You happily frown.
Eddie huffs out a laugh, pressing a kiss to your knee and shaking his head, “That’s okay,” He responds, reaching over for your panties to help you slip them back on. “It was for a good cause.” He winks.
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Eddie doesn’t frequent fancy parties.
The fanciest event Eddie’s ever been to was a masquerade-themed dinner that he and Jeff snuck into because there were rumors of a big hit producer being there, which, big fucking shocker, they never found him since everyone was in a fucking mask. It was a waste of time, but at least they ate like kings that night.
Besides that, Eddie doesn’t go to fancy places— it’s just not his kind of scene. And it’s not like the event you’ve brought him to tonight is, like, Buckingham Palace tier, but everyone here looks like a million bucks and up, and Eddie’s not quite sure he’s up to that standard.
He would be more worried if you weren’t clinging to him like a koala bear and keeping him in light conversation.
You introduced Eddie to a few of your industry friends, and one or two of them even remembered Eddie from the films he’d done with you, which, Eddie doesn’t know why, but his head grew three times bigger in size from that. And for the most part, you keep to Eddie’s side, pointing out different people from across the room and telling him the lore behind them and whatnot as you share a plate of snacks.
And you love grapes, apparently, because Eddie’s had to get up and refill on them about three times now. “Do you want more?” Eddie asks when he realizes you’re almost done. You glance at him with a small smile as you nod, “I’ll get it this time, though. I want to try some of the cheese.”
So, Eddie nods and keeps an eye on you until the crowd obstructs his view. He busies himself with watching the room, tries to see if he can pick out anyone from any pornos he’s watched before he realizes that’s fucking weird and cringes at himself for being a perv. He finishes his glass of champagne, which Eddie isn’t a champagne guy, but it was either that or whiskey, and Eddie would rather not get shitfaced tonight.
And what’s taking you so long? You’ve been gone for a while now, and Eddie had first thought you maybe made a quick stop at the restrooms, but it’s been more than enough time, and he misses you (as fucking sappy as that is), so he gets up and makes his way to the food bar.
He’s got his empty flute in one hand and the other in his pocket, brown eyes softly scanning the room as he walks. And then he spots you, near the food where you said you’d be, with some guy talking to you, but something isn’t right. 
Eddie’s spent enough time with you now to be able to tell when you’re feeling uneasy just by the way you anxiously drag your nail against the length of your thumb, the way your eyes dart around, or the tense pull of your shoulders.
Your gaze lands on Eddie, and your eyes soften, and Eddie doesn’t even have to think twice before he walks over.
The man's back is facing Eddie, so he doesn’t see the curly-headed boy until he steps around and slinks an arm around your waist, pulling you close with a soft smile, “Been looking for you, sweets.” He presses a kiss to your forehead as you sink into him.
“Mm, just catching up with..a friend.” 
Eddie doesn’t miss the pause. He looks over to the man you’d been talking to, and you take a breath, “Eddie, this is Chris, a coworker.” You introduce the man. And Eddie remembers that name; he thinks he remembers seeing it on the script of the last film you and Eddie did together— the one where you’d asked Eddie to take over because the other guy was an asshole.
Chris reaches out a hand, “Chris. You must be a good friend of hers?”
Eddie doesn’t like that. Doesn’t like that he doesn’t refer to you by your name, or the smug grin on his face, or the sly tone in his voice when he says it. 
And Eddie doesn’t know why he does it, okay. He doesn’t know why the words fly out of his mouth or why he didn’t, like, think it through, but suddenly, Eddie’s introducing himself as your boyfriend. Which, Eddie is not your boyfriend. And you’re not his girlfriend.
Eddie would love to be your boyfriend, and he’d love for you to be his girlfriend, but— but you’re not. So, Eddie doesn’t know why he does it, but he does, and god, it’s comedic how the guy's face falls. Eddie can feel your gaze on him, and he panics a little because what if Eddie just crossed the line big time?
Chris’s gaze flickers to you, and his brows raise as you look at him, “So, I take it this is why you’re only doing solo content now?”
Which, fucking gross. That’s definitely none of this meathead guy's business! So what if you’re making solo content only? And why does he know, and why does he care? God, this guy’s a creep.
But also… why are you only doing solo content? Eddie can’t help but wonder. Did something happen? Was it this asshole's fault? Eddie will kill him if he has anything to do with it. You and Eddie have become so close; you tell each other everything about everything, so why didn’t you tell him about this? It’s not a big deal or whatever, but—
“Does it matter?” Shit, Eddie didn’t mean to say that out loud.
You’re both looking at Eddie in shock, and Eddie just blinks and waits for an answer.
You take in a deep breath, arm squeezing around Eddie’s as you answer— since this guy can’t take a fucking hint, “Yeah, actually, it is. Just didn’t feel right.” You shrug.
The guy nods, pursing his lips together, “Fair enough. Well, if that ever changes, you know where to find me.” He winks before turning around and leaving. Eddie cringes, and he almost steps forward to say something, to tell him to fuck off somewhere, but your grip tightens around his arms, and Eddie understands that you just want the conversation to be over.
Eddie’s quickly turning his attention to you, though, when you press yourself into his side, “Thank you.” You sweetly say.
Eddie nods, a warm hand reaching up to squeeze your hand that's resting over his bicep, “Don’t sweat it, princess. That guy’s a douche.” And you huff, nodding your head, “Yeah. You definitely scared him, though. It was pretty hot.”
Eddie tries not to let that get to his head. 
He fails.
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The rest of the night goes well with fewer dickhead run-ins and more grapes, and Eddie is more than Elated when you say it’s time to go.
The ride home is pleasant, and you’ve been extra cuddly all night, so Eddie’s heart is practically the size of Texas when you bring his hand into your lap and slink your fingers together. You’re spending the night, so Eddie’s kind of excited to get in bed and snuggle until you both pass out— but then Eddie’s thrown in for a loop when you both get under his covers.
Banshee is busy in her bakery down at the foot of the bed, kneading little biscuits in preparation for her sleep, and you’re fresh-faced and wrapped in one of Eddie’s shirts when you look over at him with a teasing look, “So,” you start, “You’re my boyfriend.”
Eddie blinks at you, wishing the bed would just let him sink in and become one with the mattress. “Oh god,” He groans, pressing his hands to his face, “I’m sorry, it just came out! That guy was being a dick, and it was the first thing that I thought of, and— god, I’m sorry.” He drags his hands over his face and shoots you an empathetic look. “You can totally, like, kick me in the nuts.”
And Eddie kind of braces himself for you to chew him out or something; tell him he’s a weirdo, and he’ll never in a million years get to call himself your boyfriend because you’re way out of his league. But then you giggle. 
And it’s not the teasing ‘get a load of this loser’ giggle— no, it’s your sweet, kind, and adoring giggle.
“No, no. I was… I was wondering when you would ask, actually.”
Eddie’s never turned his head so fast. He thinks he imagined you saying it, like, maybe he drank too much champagne even though he literally only had less than two full glasses the entire night. “Huh? I– w-what do you mean?” Eddie gapes. “Like… like, ask you to be my girlfriend?”
And you’re so cute as you shyly nod, glancing at Eddie with this expectant gaze.
“Shit, well uh, I-I wanted to ask you in like a bigger way. Like flowers and shit because I… well, I really like you, and it’s what you deserve and—”
You cut Eddie off with a laugh and scoot closer to him, and if Eddie’s heart beats any faster, he might die. “Eddie,” You lowly and softly say, holding his gaze. Eddie nods, eyes darting down to your lips as he holds his breath. “Will you be my boyfriend?”
Shit, Eddie’s never said yes so quickly in his life.
————
a/n: HELLOOO! if you have made it to the end of this awfully long baby i am so thankful and appreciative of you, these two are my babies so I hope you enjoyed them as much as I've enjoyed my time with them <3 as always, thank u for reading and being here, i love and appreciate any feedback, ILYSM MWAH <3
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cutie teeny taglist: @vol2eddie @paleidiot @hideoutside
3K notes · View notes
thewispsings · 2 months
Text
queen shit | max verstappen
pairing: max verstappen x pageant queen! reader
summary: max verstappen mets you, his long term celebrity crush at a charity event.
notes; someone request this but i accidentally posted it before i finished and had to delete it…i hope this finds you anon
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liked by rupaulofficial, maxverstappen, mclaren, and 913,047 others!
yoursername: very successful event tonight, many thank you's to all those who attended and donated, much love 💜
view comments below!
user1: by very successful she means that she just raised over 20 million dollars for family's in need. 20 million dollars. TWENTY MILLION DOLLARS.
user2: QUEEN. SHIT.
user3: i love rich people actually putting their money and status to work
user4: my goat 💪💪
user5: there were SO MANY different celebrities there
user6: and she definitely did NOT know all of them!
user7: probably just invited them so more money could be donated 😭
user8: was the most random people too, like kim kardiashian?? mitski??? f1 drivers??? hockey players??
user9: no seriously. because why was i watching the livestream only to see george russell dancing in the background. very horribly may i add
georegrussel|63: thank you for the invite! i had the time of my life!
yoursername: of course george! thank you for the donating :) <3
user10: they’re friends???
user11: some of yall are FAKE FANS. yn and george have been friends for YEARS. he even posted her when she won miss universe and many times after
user12: i wasn't even alive when she won miss universe...
user13: PAUSE.
user14: WHAT ARE YOU ON SOCIAL MEDIA? THIS IS NOT A SAFE PLACE FOR YOU
user15: YOURE SIX?? AND CAN SPELL??
user16: are we all going to pretend like max didn't just meet his celebrity crush?
user17: most people here don't know who he is 😭
user18: "meet" is a STRETCH, he stood behind her all night just staring...
user19: yeah it was actually kinda sad
user20: f1twt is CLOWNING HIM SO HARD RN
user23: 3x world champion and he's too scared to go up to his celebrity crush
user24: OKAY GUYYYSSS BUTTT this is his first time seeing her in person! ofc he was shocked, maybe next time he'll actually go up to her?
landonorris: thanks for the invite!
georgerussell63: you were my plus one?
landonorris: SHHHH
georgerussell63: in fact, everyone on the grid got personally invited, except you?
landonorris: STOP AIRING OUT MY BUSINESS
user27: yn definitely didn't invite him directly just so lando could be embarrassed like this
alex_albon: best thai food ever (other then my moms) thank you for the invite!
user25: yeah we saw they way your scarfed that shit down
user26: acting like it was the last fucking supper
yourusername: thank you for coming alex! (and for taking home the leftovers)
user28: HE TOOK HOME THE LEFT OVERS?
maxverstappen1: hi
georgerussell63: oh no
landonorris: no way he does it
charles_leclerc: i believe in you max
carlossainz55: don't hype him up! max don't do it. don't embarrass yourself like this
oscarpiastri: i say go for it max
yourusername: hi max :)
georgerussell63: omg omg OMG
maxverstappen1: would you like to go on a date with me?
landonorris: oh he did it...
carlossainz55: NOOO
charles_leclerc: yay max!
user29: it's been 10 hours and still no response...
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liked by georgerussell63, and 762,091 others!
yourusername: pretty sunset 🌅
view comments below!
user30: is that…a man?
user31: this makes max being rejected so much more humiliating
user32: SHE HAS A WHOLE BOYFRIEND?? 😓
user33: max found sobbing into his pillow
user34: *not clickbait*
georgerussell63: i laughed
user35: GEORGE???
user36: he’s funny for this
user37: max most definitely doesn’t think it’s funny
user38: yns first time soft launching and it’s right after max publicly asks her out…hm!
user39: she was waiting for the funniest moment to do this
user40: QUEEN SHIT
user41: ok but who is this man 🤨
user42: don’t call me delusional…but that hand kinda looks like max
user43: okay granny let’s get you back to the nursing home…
user44: thankful i’m not this delusional
user45: free yn from the max fans…
user46: @/user42 DONT LET THEM SILENCE YOU
landonorris: he cried
yourusername: i cried
landonorris; we crode
user47: okay it’s definitely max
user48: lando knows something
user49: MAX ISNT IN THE LIKES??
user50: it really isn’t him…hes been flirting with her through the likes for years
user51: rip max being the first to like yns post..gone but never forgotten 🕊️
charles_leclerc: hehehe…hehehe…hehe
user52: WHAT DO TOU KNOW CHARLES
user53: don’t fuck with me charles. i am not in the mood.
user54: you can’t convince me that man is not max when all his friends are in the comments section like this
user55: charles istg
alex_albon: i know something 😏
user56: ok. it’s definitely max.
user57: i still don’t think it is…we can’t see his face
user58: but what are the chances she soft launches after max asks her out
user59: she probably did it to be funny?
user60: and it worked! she’s too funny
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liked by alex_albon, carlossainz, and 914,058 others!
maxverstappen1: matching sunglasses 🕶️
view comments below!
user61: QUICK, WHOS FEET DO THOSE LOOK LIKE
user62: oh max…
user63: okay so! it’s either max and yn DID go on that date, or yn has a bf and max posted this to save himself
user64: i realllyyy hope max and yn did go on that date because if max posted this just to save himself the embarrassment….
user65: what if this isn’t even a girl, and it’s one of max’s friend pretending to be a girl 😭
user66: i can see charles pretending to be the girl
user67: HE SO WOULD
charles_leclerc: those are NOT my toes 🤕
user68: okay but no one on the grid has skinny little girl hands like this
user68: logan does
logansargent: ?
user68: well this is awkward
georgerussell63: well well well
user69: THIS CAN MEAN MANY THINGS GEORGE!! IS THIS YN OR NOT
user70: i don’t think it’s yn. she’s too pretty for max.
comment liked by georgerussell63
user70: GEORGE LIKED??
user71: so it’s NOT yn?
user72: but he could mean it in a “they are dating but she’s too pretty for him” way
user73: GRRRR
carlossainz55: i can’t believe it
user74: WHAT. WHAT CANT YOU BELIVE CARLOS
user75: you can’t believe that yn and max actually went out?? or you can’t believe max got a another girl after being publicly rejected??
user76: they’re like giving us hints but at the same time they’re not??
user77: THEYRE PLAYING WITH US
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liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, and 802,520 others!
maxverstappen1: i’m dating a pageant queen and you’re not! 
view comments below!
user78: FINALLY!
user79: could’ve just said this earlier..
user80: could’ve saved us the trouble 😒
carlossainz55: i still can’t believe it
user81: SO HE DID MEAN IT IN A “can’t believe you actually got her” WAY
maxverstappen1: you have no faith in me :(
carlossainz55: correct!
charles_leclerc: i believed in you max!
maxverstappen1: thank you charles 😄
carlossainz55: he’s lying, he bet €50 you wouldn’t get a text back
maxverstappen1: THAT BASTARD
charles_leclerc: IT DIDNT SEEM LIKE YOU WERE GOING TO GET A REPLY! I THOUGHT IT WAS A GOOD TIME TO WIN €50 AND I WOULD’VE GIVEN YOU HALF?
user83: i could be dating a pageant queen, you don’t know me
user84: are you?
user83: am i what?
user84: dating a pageant queen?
user83: no
user84: what is wrong with you
user85: i love how nobody was hating, we all just wanted to know if max x yn was happening
user86: max has gotten his dream girl…WE CHEERED
user87: years later and lot of instagram likes, we DID IT 👏
user88: we?
user89: i was there almost 8 years ago when max put his first like on yns post, so yes! WE
user90: thank god for that charity event
liked by maxverstappen1
yourusername: former pageant queen
maxverstappen1: you’ll always be a pageant queen in my eyes 🥰
landonorris; simp
maxverstappen1: mad you don’t have a girlfriend?
user91: WOAH GIRLFRIEND?
user92: girl what did you think was going on here
user91: I DIDDNT KNOW THEY MADE IT OFFICIAL
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liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo, and 715,047 others!
yourusername: i’m dating a 3x wdc and you’re not!
view comments below!
user92: please don’t rub it in
user93: i’m soooo happy for you guys (sarcasm)
user93: yes i’m jealous
danielricciardo: actually i am dating a 3x wdc and his name is max verstappen
yourusername; really? because max verstappen is is laying on me right now
danielricciardo: that’s a clone. the REAL max verstappen is laying to my right.
yourusername: this is what we call schizophrenia 🥰
user94: you guys are so cute! (i’m jealous, i’m so fucking jealous)
user95: max started dating his celebrity crush of 8 years in 8 days! we did it joe! we did it
user96: they won’t last. they’re moving to fast.
user97: they’re both grown adults who know what they want 🤷‍♀️
maxverstappen1: that’s me!
yourusername; that’s you!
georgerussell63: yeah max we have EYES.
maxverstappen1: don’t be pissy because yn likes me more now
georgerussell63: she does NOT
maxverstappen1: you keep thinking that 😇
charles_leclerc: i always knew he could do it!
maxverstappen1: no you didn’t. stop lying to me.
charles_leclerc: IM SORRY. I WAS GOING TO SHARE THE €50 WITH YOUUU.
maxverstappen1: I DONT CARE @/oscarpiastri is the ONLY know who truly believed in me
oscarpiastri: i bet €100 against you
maxverstappen1: I CANT TRUST ANYONE
alex_albon: does this mean we’ll be invited to more charity events?
user98: you’re just thinking of the food 😐
alex_albon: …yeah
maxverstappen1: 😁🥰👊😏🔥💕🤗
user99: bro starts dating his celebrity crush and forgets how to act
user100: me if i was dating oscar
. . .
notes: thank you for the request! (even though i accidentally deleted it)
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afanofmanyhats · 4 months
Text
One of my favorite things about Tolkien's writing is that he has a very specific, recurring trope. For lack of a better term, I'm dubbing this the Tolkien Wife-Guy.
This is mainly obvious in the Silmarillion, but Tolkien loves to write couples where the man is a notable individual- nobility, commits a great deed, or both- but the wife is at least equally notable, if not more beloved or powerful. Manwe is the king of the Valar and Eru's main representative in Arda? Everyone loves Varda more, and Melkor fears her more than his own brother. Elu Thingol is the king of the Silvan Elves? His wife is Melian, whose Girdle is the magic that keeps Morgoth's forces at bay. Beren is a chief among the Edain, who befriends animals and survives one of the most nightmarish places in Beleriand? His wife is Luthien.
Even in Lord of the Rings we see this occur, though the couples are on more even footing. Tom Bombadil is... Tom Bombadil, but Goldberry is the River-daughter, and Tom adores her above everything else, and the hobbits are completely taken in with her when she's their host. Similarly, while Celeborn is a mighty lord among Elves, Galadriel is one of the only Noldor in Middle-earth who saw the Two Trees, and her hair inspired Feanor to make the Silmarils, not to mention her own accomplishments in the war against Morgoth. Aragorn is the king of Gondor and Arnor, but Arwen is the Evenstar of the Elves, the descendant of three(?) different royal Elven lines. And Faramir becomes the Steward of Gondor and is one of the noblest men alive, but Eowyn killed the Witch-king, so you know. She got the grander moment for the saga.
But with (most) of these couples, we never get the impression that the man views his wife as Less-Than, or as a junior partner. Thingol is the main exception to this in how he dismisses Melian's counsel, and that's made out to be his foolishness within the text. Otherwise, Manwe treats Varda as his co-ruler, Beren never tries to downplay Luthien's achievements, and I'm pretty sure most of Tom Bombadil's dialogue is about how gorgeous Goldberry is. It's really sweet.
All of these examples really testify to how much Tolkien loved his wife. People rightly point to Beren and Luthien as the prime example of that, but I think you can find it in these other couples too. Even though Edith is mainly known to history as Mrs. Tolkien, it's evident to me that Jirt saw her as a whole person worthy of admiration outside of being his wife.
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euthymiya · 3 months
Text
camera roll — ft. ryomen sukuna
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sukuna doesn’t appreciate how often his annoying little nephew comes over and takes up your time—until you share a few pictures of you and him to little yuuji. maybe the runt’s starting to grow on him
before you read: fem reader ; non curse au/modern au ; established relationship ; uncle sukuna and nephew yuuji ; mentions of itadori jin and kaori ; mentions of reader wearing heels and being carried by sukuna ; sukuna being a terrible influence to children (and being a softie on the low)
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Sukuna doesn’t like children. They’re little troublemakers. They’re nuisances. They take up space and cause chaos. They whine. They cry and kick and scream. They don’t pay bills and eat away at your wallet. They’re clingy and talk a lot. They don’t have jobs and never contribute to the economy. The list goes on.
(You like to point out this mindset is just a byproduct of his upbringing, and that he should heal. He thinks that’s a load of bullshit. He grew up just fine. He doesn’t need to heal from anything—he’s just right. Kids are weird and unsettling).
Yuuji is no exception. The kid is an irritating spawn of his brother—they even have the same smile. Too happy, too nice, too talkative, and too bubbly. So what if Yuuji is his nephew? He doesn’t have to enjoy the runt’s company just because he’s family. (You like to really put emphasis on the family part).
And you’re persistent. You invite the little runt over every chance you get. You always agree to babysitting so his brother can have his date nights and spend quality time with that equally as annoying wife of his. (It’s Jin’s fault for not thinking things through. If he just kept it in his pants, he could easily find time to have dates and spend time with his lousy wife, but no. He decided to knock up the woman and make it Sukuna’s problem too).
It’s an eyesore to say the least to walk into his living room and see a small, useless child curled up in your lap, taking his place where he should be resting his head, and giggling to yourselves.
Irritating. Nauseating. So outright infuriating.
Sukuna hates kids.
“And that’s uncle ‘Kuna and me at the beach,” you grin, “see that castle? He helped me build it. Don’t tell him I told you that, though or he’ll eat me.”
“Woah,” Yuuji gasps, staring in awe at the photo in your phone. Sukuna’s eye twitches. You promised not to tell anyone he helped you build that stupid sand castle. He just wanted you to be quiet when you kept whining for his help. “Uncle ‘Kuna’s got big muscles!”
“Yeah, he does,” you nod, grinning. You swipe through a few more photos before stopping at another one. Yuuji’s eyes bulge even wider. “See? That’s him at the gym. Sometimes I go and watch him. Doesn’t he look so strong?”
“Uh huh,” the kid nods furiously. “He’s so cool,” he adds, voice laced in admiration.
Well, at least the runt has a brain. He definitely didn’t get it from his father, but it’s there. That’s a start.
“And that’s us on our first anniversary. See how sweet your uncle is? He’s carrying me to the car because my feet were hurting.”
Sukuna rolls his eyes. He told you those shoes would hurt your feet, and then your whining would make it his problem. Evidently everyone he surrounds himself with likes to make things his issue to deal with. And he was right—you did end up whining about those damn heels. (They did make your legs look good, he’ll admit that much. But still, you didn’t need to go through the trouble of wearing them only to bugging him with your complaining. He finds your legs hot regardless of what shoes you wear).
“Uncle ‘Kuna’s so nice,” Yuuji nods, giggling before he looks up at you, poking a chubby finger into your cheek and says, “so pretty!”
“Aw Yuuji,” you grin, “aren’t you the sweetest little man?”
You lean in and press an attack of kisses to the brat’s cheeks. Sukuna crosses his arms and glares at the way the runt laughs in glee at your affection. Who does he think he is, feeling your lips on his skin?
Once you settle down, you pull him flush against your chest again, back pressed to you as an arm wraps around his tiny frame, holding him close.
“Look, this is when we went on our first vacation! See how your uncle likes to sleep on my chest? He says he hates cuddling but he’s a liar.”
“Lies are bad!” Yuuji gasps, looking up at you with wide eyes.
“Yeah,” you nod seriously, “super bad. You’ll always tell the truth right Yuuji? Don’t be like your mean uncle, okay?”
“Okay,” he agrees, nodding like he means it.
If it was up to him, Sukuna would grab the kid off your lap and set him out on the streets to find his own way home. How dare the brat sit on his couch with his girlfriend and act holier than him?
And it’s not a lie. Sukuna thinks cuddling is stupid. Using your chest is a pillow isn’t cuddling, it’s getting comfortable. You’re the liar.
“And see this one? That’s us having a picnic. You know your uncle ‘Kuna surprised me with that? He can be really sweet, y’know. He just likes to pretend he’s all tough.”
Yuuji giggles again—and then his eyes land on Sukuna at the entrance of the living room, brightening at the sight of him.
Great. He’s been spotted. Just want Sukuna needed after a long day of work. More annoying people.
“It’s uncle ‘Kuna!” Yuuji points his pudgy little finger at him before waving a tiny hand. “You’re back!”
“And you’re still here,” Sukuna’s eyes narrow, “why?”
“That’s no way to greet your nephew, Sukuna,” you scold, earning an eye roll from your boyfriend.
He trudges over, (carefully) pushing Yuuji to scoot over on your lap so he can lay his head where it rightfully belongs on your legs and settle on the couch. He sighs and closes his eyes as your fingers gently weave through his hair.
“Had a long day at work, I don’t need this brat still taking up my space. Tell ‘im to pay bills if he wants to stay so bad.”
“Oh c’mon, he’s been waiting for you all day,” you grin, “haven’t you Yuuji?”
“Uh huh!” The runt nods, leaning down to hover over Sukuna’s face. He opens an eye, peering up at the kid as Yuuji pokes a finger at his cheek. “Wanna play?”
“No,” he grumbles, pretending to bite at the finger.
Yuuji shrieks, pulling it away quickly and earning a low chuckle from Sukuna while you glare.
“Hey!” You scold, “you be nice to—”
“Again! Again!” Yuuji laughs brightly, holding a finger to hover over Sukuna’s lips. You blink and so does he, staring at the child before Sukuna’s lips curl into a small, smug grin.
“If you say so, ya runt.”
He snaps at the tiny finger Yuuji holds over his lips again, this time getting in a (gentle) nibble that makes the child squeal and laugh brightly.
“Uncle ‘Kuna’s gonna eat me,” he laughs.
“S’right, I’ll eat ya like you’re dinner. So quit comin’ over, you wretched brat.”
Yuuji, as innocent and hopeful as a little child is supposed to be, takes Sukuna’s smirk as a sign his uncle is happy to play. So he crawls off your lap, plopping himself to sit on Sukuna’s chest and smile happily down at him while you coo at the sight.
“Oh my gosh, he’s too cute! Sukuna don’t even think about moving—I’m getting a picture. Jin will love it!”
“Don’t take a fuckin’ pic—”
“Do not curse in front of a child!” You follow your scolding with a smack at his head, making him grunt angrily.
“I swear if you get a damn photo of—”
Click.
The sound of your phone’s camera going off cuts him off, silencing him with a wicked glare he sends up at you from your lap. It’s not so menacing when you take in the fact that his hand has securely planted itself at the base of Yuuji’s back, keeping him from falling over.
Sukuna hates children—he reminds you of this fact constantly. He has a soft spot for his little nephew, though. You don’t point it out so he can keep his facade up for his sense of dignity, but you know the facts.
Yuuji’s favorite snacks are stocked up in the cabinets for his arrival today—and you certainly haven’t had a chance to grocery shop this week. A small, tiny little inkling tells you that your boyfriend is developing something of a soft spot for his nephew.
“Look Yuuji,” you grin at the small child, ruffling his hair as you turn your phone to face him, “it’s you and uncle ‘Kuna! Your very own picture together! Isn’t that nice?”
“Yay!” He claps, eyes crinkling excitedly as he smiles happily at the picture.
Sukuna’s eyes soften just a bit before he’s back to frowning, a grumpy crease of his forehead as he huffs.
“I’m sick of this darn brat.”
————— bonus —————
“Fuck!” Yuuji says as he drops his sippy cup.
Sukuna freezes, eyes quickly darting over to you from the sink where he’s washing the dishes. You stop, stilling where you’re clearing the table. Your hand pauses mid air from its path to pick up glass, head slowly turning to look over at the child.
“Yuuji,” you say slowly, “where did you learn that word?”
He better not—Sukuna stares holes into the kid’s head. The runt better not rat him out or he really will eat him. Maybe even do worse. He’d better keep his annoying little mouth shut before—
“Uncle ‘Kuna!” Yuuji points to Sukuna, as if he wants the man to die.
Your eyes instantly glare over at him. Sukuna tenses, clenching his jaw as he shoots a dirty look at his nephew.
“You damn snitch! They ought to teach you about tattling at that fancy day care of yours—”
“Quit yelling at him for your doing! Just you wait till he’s home,” you glower, “I’ll deal with you later.”
Sukuna scowls, returning to washing the dishes with a sulky frown on his face as you bend down and gather Yuuji into your arms.
“Is that awful man being a bad influence on you?” You coo, “he is, isn’t he? Don’t worry, I’ll teach that terrible uncle of yours a lesson, okay? But don’t use that word, Yuuji. Only non self respecting people use that language.”
Yuuji doesn’t even understand what that means, he wants to say. He holds his tongue, though, just to save himself from even a little of your wrath—but the runt is never welcome back to his home again, Sukuna thinks, grumbling to himself under his breath as you offer Yuuji the last of his ice cream.
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High key I don’t know how to write children so Yuuji’s parts might be cringe but just look away OKAY
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simplyholl · 5 months
Text
The Newlywed Game
Summary: You’re forced to play The Newlywed Game with your ex situationship.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F. Reader
Warnings: Angst. Smuttish, but not my usual descriptive smut. 18+ Only. Minors DNI.
See my Masterlist here
“I can’t.” That’s all the explanation you got when Bucky ended your situationship. You were friends with benefits for almost a year. The only rule he had was don’t fall in love. He had too much baggage and he never wanted a family. He didn’t want anyone to depend on him.
You couldn’t blame him, he was traumatized by Hydra. Trapped inside his own body for decades, he was afraid it could happen again. You jumped in head first with him anyways. You were in his bed after every mission, every meeting, every day. You basically lived in his room, not that he would ever admit that. Then one rainy afternoon, you knocked on his door like always. Except this time, he didn’t pull you into his warm embrace.
He moved out of the way so you could come in, and immediately you knew something was wrong. You reached for him, ready to console him, desperate for his touch. He had just finished a mission with Sam and he’d been gone for two weeks. You missed him, and he was usually so excited to see you.
When you placed your hand on his cheek, rubbing the scruff that had grown while he was gone, he wrapped his fingers around your wrist removing it. “I can’t do this anymore.” His voice was so low you could barely understand. Your eyes narrowed at his words. “Have I done something wrong?”
“This has gone on for longer than it should have. I can’t let it anymore.” Your throat tightens, but you refuse to cry in front of him. You walked out and your relationship with him was never the same. You didn’t hang out anymore.
When you were alone, he would leave. He didn’t sit beside you during the Friday night movie. He didn’t choose you for his partner on game night. The other Avengers didn’t know for sure that you were hooking up. You hid it pretty well. They had their suspicions, but neither of you ever confirmed it.
Tony called everyone to the back yard. “What’s all this?” Steve asks, pointing to the stage he had set up. “It’s my anniversary tomorrow and Pepper said she always wanted to play the Newlywed Game. So I had this built so we could play.”
“That’s great, Tony. But who are you all going to play with? There’s four set up’s and only two couples.” Steve gestures to Wanda and Vision. “Thought about that and Cap, you and Natasha are going to play and….” He looks at the whole team, everyone looking in different directions trying not to make eye contact. Except for Sharon, who hung around a lot lately. She was getting closer to Bucky, obviously wanting Tony to choose them. You roll your eyes. “Barnes and Y/N. There now we have all our couples. I’m going to go get Pep, you guys take your spots.”
You look at Bucky,but he’s busy talking to Steve about how ridiculous it is. You hear Sharon agree that he should have chosen someone else. When Pepper comes in, she excitedly claps her hands together. She points to the other teams, “You’re going down!” She laughs, but you can’t help but protest, “This is rigged! You guys and Wanda and Vision are the only real couples!! How is anyone else supposed to win?”
Tony shoots you a death glare but answers, “Cap and Natasha have definitely bumped uglies before. And you and Barnes are close friends. I thought that would make it more fair. But, I do expect to win.” You cross your arms, but accept his answer. Bucky finally looks at you, but it’s not friendly.
Sam comes out, wearing a suit Tony made him wear to host. “I’ll explain the rules. You all have a whiteboard, marker, and eraser. I will ask a question and you will write your answer on your boards. If your answer matches your partner’s you get a point. I’ll eliminate one couple each round until the final tie breaker.”
You take a deep breath. This is hell. But you do know Bucky better than anyone, so as long as he didn’t ask any crazy questions, you would be fine. “First question. Where is the craziest place you and your partner have had sex?” You freeze. Of course Stark had these wild questions. If you both answered the same, everyone would know that you had hooked up.
You think about lying, but decide the ball should be in Bucky’s court. You’ll answer correctly, and if he doesn’t you’ll know he doesn’t want anyone to know. You quickly scribble your answer, waiting on Sam to call on you. Tony’s answer is Steve’s room and Pepper’s matched. Everyone laughed while Steve said Tony has to pay for his room to be deep cleaned.
Wanda and Vision both answer “in the air.” Natasha and Steve said a table in the meeting room. You turn your board to reveal your answer and Bucky shows his. You look and see that he has answered correctly. “The quinjet?! Damn y’all are nasty!” Sam laughs.
You’re taken back to that moment. You, Bucky, and Bruce were on your way back from a mission. Bruce was driving the quinjet, but activated the mode Tony installed for breaks. As soon as he started snoring, Bucky led you to the bathroom. He took you against the wall, metal hand across your mouth to stifle your moans. It was one of the hottest things you’d ever done. Your suit clung to you in the worst ways after that. His cum dripping down your legs, it was nearly impossible to take off.
The others look at each other in surprise. Scott yells “I told you they were hooking up. No one believed me!” Sharon looks at Bucky so harshly that if looks could kill, he’d be dead. He just shrugs his shoulders. Of course, he would be hooking up with her. Why wouldn’t he? She was pretty and it had been three months since he ended things with you.
The next question was “Who hogs the covers more?” Everyone got it right except for Steve and Natasha. She said that wasn’t a fair question because they never actually slept when they were together. The round continued with four more questions. At the end, Steve and Natasha were eliminated because they had the least amount of points. The rest of you were tied.
“What is your partner’s pet name for you?” Sam asks. That’s easy, “doll”, you write. When you reveal your answers, Sharon looks furious. That must be what he calls her too. It stings, thinking of them together. You don’t have time to dwell on it before Sam asks the next question. “What is the highest number of orgasms your partner has given you in one night?” Your eyes widen, you know the answer, but you don’t know if he will remember.
Tony and Pepper answer three, Tony grins like the cocky asshole he is. Vision and Wanda answer two. Bucky raises his board, “Six?!” Sam shouts, “How were you guys fucking this much and nobody knew?” He laughs. The round surprisingly ends with Wanda and Vision getting eliminated.
But you’re busy thinking about that night. Bucky’s head between your thighs for hours. He barely came up for breath. You were sure he would smother, but he insisted. He didn’t stop until the sheets were soaked, your legs were shaking so hard, you’d immediately fall if you tried to stand up.
He had you screaming his name all night. When he finally started fucking you, he took his time, pulling another orgasm out of you before going back down for another taste. He finally came with you on top. He had to lift your limp body on him, using you like a sex doll. You couldn’t move if you needed too. It was the best sex you’d ever had.
“It’s time for the tie breaker question. Answers don’t have to match, the crowd will vote on the most romantic answers.” Sam states. “When did you know you were in love?” Tony and Pepper immediately begin writing. You’re certain you’re going to lose this one. Bucky was never in love with you. You write your answer, deciding to answer truthfully.
Tony and Pepper’s answers make you tear up, they are so in love. You can only hope you’ll find that one day. You and Bucky reveal your boards at the same time. You glance at his, his answer knocks the breath out of your lungs because it matches yours. The Avenger’s Barbecue. You lock eyes, his gaze softens as he reads your answer.
You’ll never forget such a pivotal moment in your life. All of the Avengers and Shield agents’ friends and family were invited to play games, eat, and have a good time. Emily, who helped coordinate your missions brought her husband and three young children. A baby girl, a two year old boy, and a five year old girl. The children were drawn to Bucky. The two older children swung from his metal arm while he held the baby with his other one.
The image made your ovaries explode. You couldn’t help imagining how he would be if you had kids. He laughed as they asked him a thousand questions, playing on him like a jungle gym. You knew without a doubt, you were in love.
Bucky took a deep breath when he read your answer. Why was it the same as his? Did you know? Was it a prank you were playing on him? Emily’s children were entranced with you from the moment they met you. He couldn’t blame them, he felt the same. They had played with him for an hour before the food was ready. When Tony told everyone to make a plate, you offered to watch the kids while she and her husband got their food.
Bucky watched as you comforted the crying infant. The two older children sat beside you while you read from a book the girl got from their bag. Bucky knew he was screwed. He could see a life like this so clearly. Your belly round with his baby, while you tended to your other children. He didn’t want to admit how badly he wanted that. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He was in love with you.
That night he made love to you, it was softer, slower than the other times he touched you. He knew you could tell the difference too. He placed one last kiss to your lips, willing himself to let you go. The next morning, he left for his two week mission with Sam. He convinced himself that it was for the best if he ended things. He didn’t want to hurt you. You might be okay with it now, but years later you would regret it.
You’d realize having the Winter Soldier for a husband wasn’t worth everything you would have to go through. Then Sharon started flirting with him after Steve rejected her. He hadn’t so much as hugged her, but she acted like she was entitled to him.
Everyone voted for Tony and Pepper to win. They were the real couple and it was their anniversary tomorrow. Tony was going to treat everyone to dinner for being such good sports. You got out of there as soon as it was over. You needed a nap before going to dinner. It was all too much for you. How the hell did you and Bucky make it so far in the game? Why did he have the same answer for the last question? You convince yourself that he knew how you felt.
That night changed everything. The sex was different. If you didn’t know better, you’d swear he was making love to you. He had to be messing with your head. Somehow you manage to fall asleep even with your thoughts racing.
You wake up two hours later, just enough time to get ready for dinner. You put on the little black dress Bucky loved. If he wants to play games, bring it on. You apply your perfume when a light knock sounds on your door. You would recognize the knock anywhere. “Come in” you call. Bucky walks in, his tight black t-shirt hugging him in the best ways.
“Hey doll, we need to talk.” You put your earrings in, anger surging through you. “Talk about what? How you were trying to humiliate me up there? How you’re banging Sharon now? There’s nothing to talk about. You should just go.”
“Humiliate you? What about me? How did you know the answer to the last question?” He demands, charging toward you. “I answered it truthfully, James. How did you know my answer?” You ask, hands on your hips. “I answered honestly too.” He confesses, his blue eyes sweeping over the swell of your breasts.
“Stop lying! I don’t see what the point is. We have been over for three months. Why are you doing this?” He shakes his head, “I was telling the truth. I realized I was in love with you when all those kids were sitting in your lap. I could see our life together. And I wanted it, the kids, the white picket fence, the big house, you.”
“Bucky, I wanted all that with you too. Seeing you playing with those kids made me realize it too.” You sigh, feeling relieved to finally get it off your chest. His lips crash into yours, hands moving at lightning speed to remove all of your clothing. You’re under him in seconds, panting against his lips as he rubs himself against you.
Bucky moans as he sinks into you. He’s always known deep down you were made for him, now he has no choice but to accept it. “I’m so in love with you.” He tells you between thrusts. You claw at his back, his confession almost sends you over the edge. “I am so in love with you, Buck.” You kiss him gently. “Say it again.” He smiles, as you get lost in each other.
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visionsofmagic · 1 year
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◜ mk1 men when they get hard in public because of you ◞
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▸ characters: bi-han, liu kang, tomas, johnny cage, syzoth ◂
▸ tags: drabble, nsfw, possession, dominance, submission, invisibility, semi-public (kinda), pet names, & more! couldn’t help myself and wrote about mk1 men once again. enjoy! ◂ ▸ m.
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BI HAN doesn’t like it even a bit. he’s not a weak man, and he shouldn’t be - has to stay still, calm, and steady in every situation, yes, he can let his anger go from time to time but except for it, he can’t let any feelings go away from his palms, to appear, to control him.
yet, here he is, leaning against the wall, watching you from behind as you train alone in the lin kuei’s training area - bending over, showing every curve of your body, with no shyness and no holding back even though you know he’s right there! he knows you tease him, that you don’t pay attention to him intentionally while doing every position you can as naughty as you can.
hands crossed across his chest, face is covered with his mask - doesn’t give away how he breaths deeply whenever he holds himself from going to your side and fucking you right there - in the middle of lin kuei, making everyone watching you.
the bulge is visible through his black and blue armored suit, but, he doesn’t give a damn fuck about it. contrary to that, he enjoys having it because after a moment, when he is done with your teasing, he picks you up, takes you into his room, and pushes you into the bed as he hovers upon you - lust and dominance rising within him as well as the coldness that he’s body creates on its own because of how you made him turn on in the public, breaking his norms, making him weak. he has to punish you for that.
putting your hand on his crotch, he makes you feel how turned on he is.
“do you feel it? it’s because of you. acting so bratty in front of me, making me watch you, giving me a fucking bulge. you made me have it in public. you have no idea how much it pissed me off - such a greedy brat. will teach you a lesson then, maybe you will learn how to only open your legs wide when you’re alone. if you don’t obey, I will fuck you in front of everyone. as your grandmaster, it’s my responsibility to make sure you act accordingly to the rules.”
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LIU KANG has great stability, never showing his true feelings, keeping his face straight except for two things; one, rolling his eyes whenever johnny’s ego goes high, and two, you.
he can’t help it - he tries though, believe it, he tries his best yet you break every wall he has as staying calm and unreadable. to others, he is still unreadable but to you, he isn’t because you see him purely and entirely unlike others, and you know how to push his buttons - the god of fire himself by acting so innocent while showing him your dirty side.
it doesn’t matter what you do to become dirty; from holding your window wide open when he passes by and taking your clothes off, to simply putting dishes on the table in front of him while sitting with others as well, bending over to him so lower that he can see the sight of your breasts - wearing no bra, and even winking at him.
he talks little in those moments, watching you from the corner of his eyes, pushing the desire to fuck you on that table down, waiting until everyone leaves, holding you by the wrist, pulling you onto his lap, making you feel his hardened cock on your ass.
whispering into your ear, his hands travel your body.
“you know how to push even a god’s buttons, princess. but making it in public? oh, you need to learn not to do that, or, I will make sure that you won’t do it again by fucking you on this table where anyone can see. now, let me take you to a more special place. you should take care of my cock after all, with these pretty breasts you showed me.”
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TOMAS will definitely try to hide it right away, a bit shy, yet dirty thoughts rushing into his mind when he sees you training - having a little cloth on your body; a bra, and a mini shorts, your body is entirely visible to his eyes.
he knows he shouldn’t take it as an attempt to make him turn on but he realizes your intentions turn from innocent ones to evil when you see him looking at you directly, gulping, a hand stays on his lap, hiding the bulge underneath his clothes, face full of heat because of not having his mask on.
he avoids your eyes immediately, looking at you from the corner of his eyes in a shy way, staying still on the chair he’s sitting on and trying to pay attention to other trainers when he sees you coming to his side, kneeling down - hands on your knees, you ask what’s wrong and from the way you speak, he understands that you’re being a brat.
however, even though he is shy, he doesn’t stop himself from being as needy as you.
“I know what you’re trying to do, yet, it will not create a difference. trying to break me in public is something and you achieved it, I am so turned on that I fantasize about you in ways I shouldn’t have in public. but who I am to blame when you’re being so greedy for me? don’t worry though my goddess, being a good lover for you, I will do my best to fuck you good enough after we get back to our room that you will see your effects on me.”
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JOHNNY CAGE will not try to hide it, not even for a second. he doesn’t care about what other people would think when they see a bulge rising under his pants, or how he puts his hand on it, caressing it under the table when he’s sure no one is looking, a smirk on his face as he watches you dance on the floor, giving him a goddamn show - you move your body so beautifully, only for his eyes to see, it makes him turn on the moment you take glances to his direction.
he can see you try not to alert others while showing off your body to him while dancing.
he will say ‘damn’ and drink his favorite liquor, watching you with pleasure, saying ‘it’s nothing’ when others ask what he’s talking about.
when he has enough, he will join you on the dance floor. under the dark lights and in the corner he chooses - less crowded, he puts his hand on your abdomen, pulling your body to his.
back touching his chest, you let his other hand grips your inner thigh under your dress, lip touching your ear as he says with a playful and cheerful voice, pushing his lower part onto your ass so that you can feel how hard he is full.
“feel it, princess? see, this is you making me go so hard in a fucking place like this, in front of everyone, by just dancing. such a naughty little girl you are for me, showing off your skills. ohh, pretty lady, you have no idea how I want to fuck you in one of the guest rooms - oh, and you know what - for this ass, will sure do it. come here, gotta go, you should pay for what you have done to me.”
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SYZOTH turns invisible right away when he has enough, getting up from where he sits, eyes not leaving yours as he finds a corner and becomes invisible.
no one can see him - only you who chuckles at his lack of self-control when it comes to you, especially when you make his mind go crazy in the middle of a meeting with others. having no actual job, you just mind your own business until you see how syzoth watches you from a distance, eyes never leaving you as you eat a very juicy fruit, licking your fingers to clean them, slowly, showing how skilled your tongue is which was on him and his entire body, including his cock, a night before as you look up to his heat rushed face, chuckling at him seductively, making him feel submissive yet dominant at the same time.
when the memories rush into his mind, he finds only escape in being invisible but he knows you shouldn’t get away with that so easily, so, when others pay attention to other things and you stay alone, he stays behind you as you sit. then, he slowly appears, dick that is hard enough to be felt through the fabric of his clothes touching your back. he holds your shoulders, kneeling down, he whispers to your ears.
“I see that you didn’t have enough of me last night or you just did all of that to make me go crazy, wanting to eat you alive in front of everyone and staying invisible while doing it. oh my pretty lover, if you keep doing this, it will be the only option for me to make you regret having me hard in here, where anyone can see it. maybe, I will not wait for you to act behaved and fuck you right here, now. hm? what you say, my goddess?”
💚
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envy-of-the-apple · 1 month
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Moon Starves Sun (FULL VERSION)
Dark!Gojo Satoru x reader
Word Count: 5.8k
Part one: Sun Eats Moon
Part two: Earth Kills Moon
(Warnings: forced relationship, implied nsfw content, implied noncon/dubcon, dark content, implied baby trapping)
When Satoru's close like this, he can hear your heartbeat. 
It's been a while. Ten years. An entire decade. Everything about this is different, yet so familiar. He feels like he's finally reached the shores, feeling the warm sands underneath his feet. Like he's been given his favorite food after being starved for years. Everything melts. Everything except for you. 
He'd like to stay like this forever, listening to your rabbit heartbeat, feeling your soft skin, but for your sake, he pulls himself off you. Lying on a wooden desk probably isn't that comfortable. 
Your eyes are shut. Your breathing is shallow. You're so pretty like this under the moonlight. Your clothes are barely hanging onto your body. He can see every mark he's left on you. Part of him wants to make more, but he'll let you off the hook for now. He's nice like that. 
"Still with me?" 
Your eyes flutter open. You don't respond, but at least you're not crying anymore. He can work with that. 
"C'mon, pretty girl," he says, voice soft, "let's piece you back together." 
The belt left lines on your wrists. He'll kiss them better later. For now, Satoru collects your clothes and heels from the floor, placing them on the desk. He helps you reclasp your bra, runs his fingers on your arms when you finish buttoning your blouse. It's a quiet affair. Every so often, he'd catch your eyes. You don't let yourself linger for long. Satoru finds that a little cute. 
You say nothing when he wraps an arm around your waist, guiding you out of his office. Maybe you're still dazed, still gathering yourself back up, because you don't struggle as much as he predicted. You try to leave his grip when the two of you reach the lobby. He's quick to stop you. 
"Where, do you think you're goin'?" He grips your wrist when you take a step away. 
You look at him, eyes shimmering like water. 
You swallow. "My apartment. I—I need to go back—" 
He clicks his tongue, bringing you back in. 
"We can get your stuff later." He tells you with a grin. "let's just go home, tonight. I'm exhausted." 
You open your mouth. Satoru waits. You say nothing, and he thinks you're starting to get it. 
The moon is a dusky red tonight. Satoru thinks it's an ugly color. 
If Satoru could describe you in one word, it would be: predicatable. 
Normal, boring, a speck in the crowd—none of these are bad things. Just like how much of the universe is nothing, you're an empty void, too. Not everyone can be like him. From the minute he was born, Satoru was destined for greatness—a prodigy, heir to a millionaire conglomerate, the Sun itself. His life isn't written on his forehead for everyone to read. 
You are the exact opposite. Completely unassuming. He practically knows everything about you without even having to ask. 
Like how Satoru can instantly tell you've never been over to a boy's room before. 
You've probably never even been in a relationship before him, either. Even before he managed to corral you into his arms, you were always so annoying about the other things like school and friends. Though, you don't really have much of the latter anymore. His fault, Suguru never fails to remind him. 
He watches as your eyes linger over his shelf: the numerous trophies and awards. You're still standing meekly in the corner, still garbed in your school uniform, clutching your backpack. He has to roll his eyes at how obviously you're trying not to look at him. 
"What're you waitin' for?" He finally asks. You jump, eyes flitting over to find him before you find the floor. He resists the urge to roll his eyes again.
It's not like you two haven't done shit before. You sucked him off twice now, and he's finger fucked you against the bleachers. You should really stop being such a prude. 
"C'mere, pretty girl." 
You comply, dropping your bag, making your way to the bed. When you look at him from beneath your lashes, warily expectant, Satoru feels a thrill rushing through his body. 
He's always been impatient. It's in his nature to take. He nips at your mouth, eager to taste your soul from your soft lips. Soft. Everything about you is so soft—Malleable beneath his fingers. 
Satoru didn't explicitly say what his plan was, but you aren't stupid. He can tell you know what's about to happen when you stiffen in his hold, turn to stone within his grip. He would've allowed it if you hadn't gripped onto his shirt, pulling yourself away from his feasting. 
"Satoru?" You whisper, still leaning away. "The door...?" 
Annoyed, he glances over. His room is open. It shouldn't really matter. 
"It's fine." Satoru tells you. "No one's here." No one's ever here. 
You still look panicked, hands gripping his shirt. Satoru finds that adorably pathetic. How helpless you are. How that's all because of him.
He's sure to make a big show of it. Satoru gives a dramatic sigh, slumps his shoulders, but eventually pushes himself off the mattress to push at the door. He even clicks it shut. He's too nice, sometimes. 
"Happy?" You nod, you don't look very relaxed but your shoulders have dropped a bit. 
Satoru doesn't feel too guilty pushing you down, not when you're already in his bed. He isn't known for his patience. He tastes your skin, leaving marks when he can: teeth bites. He pushes you down down down down so he can sink his teeth into your flesh.
You're asleep and under the covers by the time he's done. The moon's out too. Satoru watches it, largely unimpressed. It's so tiny, a sliver of glowing white. 
And then you shift, turning ever so slightly, enough to catch his attention. He should probably kick you out and send you home. That's what he usually does. When he gets into bed with you, draping his arms around your limp body, he convinces himself it's because he's tired and waking you up would be too much of an effort. 
He lets himself enjoy your warmth; it's nothing like the cold glow of the moon. 
Sometimes, even Gojo Satoru wonders if he's dreaming. 
Sometimes, life is too perfect for him to realize it is real. Everything falls perfectly in place, fitting together like those jigsaw puzzles his caretakers used to distract him with halfheartedly. 
You're in his kitchen, chopping vegetables. 
It had already been a few weeks, but he still wasn't used to this. You, being in his home, in his kitchen, in his bed. Satoru thinks he's masking it well, but his mind is still reeling, it's a difficult adjustment. 
Not a bad one. 
It's like he's been drowning for years and he can suddenly breathe when he sees your toothbrush next to his. It's like he's been stabbed and waking up to your sleeping face is the aloe. It's like he's been suffering through a blizzard, and you cooking in his kitchen, humming a song he doesn't know, is the warm sunny day. 
Things have changed since he brought you home. His home doesn't feel incomplete anymore. As though the apartment itself has agreed that this is where you belong. There are more clothes in his closet, more shoes by the door. The space is ever so slightly less empty and it fills him with tangible relief. He can cook a meal, but it's still nice coming home to something warm already made. 
It makes Satoru wonder what things could have been like, had it not been taken away from him. 
You flinch when he wraps his hands around your waist, nestling into the space in your shoulder. You hadn't heard him come in, apparently. Regardless, you don't linger, fingers hesitating before resuming your task. He finds this part of you adorable. Ignoring the thing that makes your heart race, as though he'll just fade away into the shadows. 
It's his ego that makes him slink into your warm skin, making sure you know he isn't going anywhere. 
"Smells good," he says. 
You nod, pushing away the bell peppers in favor of the onions. Unlike him, you acclimated extremely well. It'd taken nothing to lightly push you to add more and more stuff from your apartment to his. You quietly moved from one setting to another. He remembered this trait of yours from high school. Go with the flow. 
Though, perhaps, it was less out of genuine apathy. Satoru doesn't have to say what will happen to you if you refuse him. He doesn't have to throw lectures about his family and the influence he has on you. He likes that you aren't stupidly brave. He likes that you're meeker, quieter. You pick your battles. 
But he thinks he'd like to see you crack, just one more time. 
"Hey," he says, "let's go out for dinner tomorrow night. There's this restaurant just out of town that has great shrimp cutlet." 
He expects you to nod, like you always do whenever he decides to do something impulsive and meaningless. Instead, you bite your lip. 
"I can't." You mutter after a minute of silence. "I have work. Mr. Higuruma just closed a deal and—and I think I'll be coming home later and later this week." 
Home. It's enough to make his heart flutter. It's the first time you've called the apartment that. Your words almost make him forget about the second thing you said.
Higuruma. The lawyer guy with dead eyes. Satoru remembers him. He always looked at Satoru like he was a child, too stupid to do anything. He never liked how the guy looked at you. Besides, he was way too old for you, never mind that you were taken. You were always taken.
"Oh, right." Satoru gives an exaggerated sigh, fully leaning on you. "Work. What a shame." 
You nod, clearly thinking the conversation is done with. Satoru wasn't so charitable. 
"Y'know, you don't really have to work. Not anymore, pretty girl." His grip on your waist tightens ever so slightly as he pulls you towards his chest. Your hands freeze. The knife glints in your fingers. 
"I make plenty of money. You should just stay home. That way, you don't have to work shitty hours." 
You stiffen underneath his fingertips. He's disappointed when your skin turns frigid. When he peeks over your shoulder, intent to look at your face, there's a nervous smile twitching on your lips. 
"I don't think that's a good idea..." you trail off hesitantly. 
"Hm?" He tilts his head with faux confusion. "Why not?" 
The knife moves up and down, as though you can't decide whether to place it back on the cutting board. Satoru realizes it's your way of fidgeting. 
"It...it would just be unprofessional to leave when everything is so hectic." You finally decide on. 
Satoru scoffs. "So? Who cares. I'm sure everything will work itself out. Just rely on me, pretty girl." 
You don't like the answer, but you don't make a comment on it. Satoru just watches you rotate the knife in your hands. He wonders if you want to use it on him. Slice at his neck, leave him out to bleed on the pretty tile floor. Cut straight through his heart, ending it quickly. 
Or would you like to carve out his eye and keep it as a souvenir? He thinks he'd happily let you. It sounds romantic.
You don't do anything. Instead, you pull back your shoulders as if you're physically ready for war. 
"'Toru," you say gently, softly, and it works in his eyes, "I...can't let you support me like this. It's not right. It's not like we're married or anything." You laugh, like it's a joke. Satoru doesn't cave. 
"I mean, not yet." Satoru rocks you back and forth in his hold. "But gimme' some time to shop for a ring, okay? It needs to be perfect for my perfect girl." 
You follow his movements. He can see your mouth twitch out of the corner of his eye. Your eyes get glassy. 
He knows he's terrible, but he really wants you to crack. 
"You're right, Satoru." You say, "I'll put in my two weeks tomorrow." He grins in delight. 
"That's a great idea, baby." Satoru kisses you on the cheek.
Right, you pick your battles. 
Satoru tells you he loves you, and you're gone, not even three days later. 
He breaks and shatters into pieces he'll never be able to put back. Each day without you is torture. He feels like a corpse, just going through the motions. His clothes feel looser. His skin doesn't feel like his own anymore. Every time he looks in the mirror, he sees someone he barely even recognizes. 
It's like you left with his heart. 
No, you ran away with his soul. 
One day, you were Satoru's, safely tucked underneath his arm...the next, you just weren't. 
His parents don't acknowledge it beyond casual disgust. Every time Suguru talks to him, Satoru can barely comprehend it. Days pass by. Everything reminds him of you. His bed feels emptier; he hates it when he reaches out to the space you used to take up and finds it cold. Your locker remains untouched. Nothing is ever the same. 
Satoru tries looking for you, but you're untraceable. No social media, no friends left to tell where you went, not even your fucking parents know where you are. 
You left him. 
You left him to rot. 
Denial comes first. It can't be. You wouldn't. You wouldn't fucking dare. Anger seeps in the next. For weeks, Satoru can only imagine what he'll do when he finds you. He'll break your legs this time. He'll squeeze your neck so hard that your head pops. He'll kill you over and over again until your corpse is begging to be forgiven. And he won't ever stop, because you're Satoru's. 
That doesn't stay for long. He feels himself get weaker day by day. Food tastes like dirt on his tongue. Any of his earlier vices are gone. 
He misses you. 
Why wouldn't he? You were his everything. 
Like all things, it passes. You aren't there to fuel the flames, so the fire wanes in his chest. The ache in his heart gets smaller and smaller. Things keep him busy. College. Then, his new position in the office. 
Ten years pass. He’s forgotten what you look like. But he remembers parts. Every so often, he sees a flicker of you within someone else. Your eyes are on another woman’s face. Your lips on a girl's smile. It irritates him to no end. It’s even worse when he starts seeking them out, keeping those parts of them for just the night. 
Sometimes, if he closes his eyes, he can still hear your voice—what he thinks is your voice—soft, needy Toru Toru Toru. 
“Gojo, sir?” 
He blinks. Ijichi stands in front of him. Satoru looks down at the meticulously crafted pages. 
“Mr. Higuruma needed you to sign this,” Ijichi lifts a paper filled with bureaucratic bullshit he pays other people to understand.
Why did Suguru take off now? 
“Sure sure,” Satoru says, “I’ll get it done.” 
Ijichi shifts nervously. “Well, it’d be best to finish it right now, Sir. His paralegal is just about to leave the building.” 
Oh, right. The lawyer’s assistant. Gojo could never get a good look at that person, but the assistant resembled a shaking deer to him at most times. He’s not even sure if they’ve ever talked to each other, but he always found the other a bit odd. Big eyes. A shaky expression. 
It was a little annoying to look at. 
Some executive was throwing an office gala, and since he is Gojo Satoru, he needed to come along. 
And since you are Satoru's, you're dragged along too. 
Honestly, the only upside to this is you and that new dress he bought you. A velvet turquoise dress that he can't take his eyes off of. The gold jewelry draped across your neck makes you even more delectable. But his favorite part of the outfit is the shimmering diamond ring. 
The ceremony hadn't been anything extravagant. He'd just booked out one of his favorite restaurants, ordering lobster and sweet wine. He remembered hearing his heartbeat when he bent down on one knee, opening the elegant ringbox, like an oyster revealing its pearl. Looking back, he didn't know why he was so nervous: it's not like you'd say no. 
"What do you think of it?" He asked when you were back in his bed, bare from everything except that glistening ring. 
"It's pretty." You spoke, perfectly nestled in his chest. 
He feels in his heart when he hugs you, a small kiss in your hair. You say something, but he can't hear it; he is too preoccupied with feeling you in his arms. It's still so new, even after all these weeks. It's the anxiety, knowing at any second you could leave and he'd be nothing. He won't allow that, he can't. 
"I thought about something else, y'know?" He speaks quietly in your hair. "Ropes, chains, maybe. I could keep you here, forever. But—but then I realized how sad you'd get. I couldn't go through with it." 
You give no reaction. When he tilts your chin up to get a better look at you, your eyes are glassy. 
"You get that, right?" 
You nod. He's really too nice, sometimes. 
He spends the entire evening with you, tucked away in a corner, away from prying eyes. Just because he has to be there doesn't mean he has to be sociable. Every time someone walks up to him and you, a drink in one hand, he resists the urge to bite their head off, feigning politeness. He complains about their lack of decorum to you multiple times throughout the night, his head resting on your shoulder. You pliantly sit there, listening and nodding. 
About ten minutes after the last board member left, someone else walks up. By then, Satoru's patience has mostly declined. He peers over with disdain before he can really process who he's seeing. 
"Suguru!" He waves over. 
You stiffen, and Satoru remembers you haven't seen him in ten years. 
Suguru walks over with an easy smile on his face. He's nicely tanned, and Satoru is reminded of the pictures he sent over of the Maldives. Maybe that's where the honeymoon should be. 
"Had fun slacking?" Satoru asks with a grin; Suguru shrugs. 
When his eyes meet yours, he feigns delighted surprise. Suguru speaks your name with practiced shock. It's imperfect, only Satoru can see the amusement dripping from his fangs. 
"Long time, no see!" Effortlessly, Suguru corrals you into a hug. You follow, giving into the cold touch of affection before pulling away back to him. 
"Hello, Geto." You say when you're rightfully by his side again. "It's nice to see you again." 
Suguru laughs, light and airy. "You as well!" He looks at your hands, tilts his head. "Oh? Congratulations, you two! When's the date?" 
"Eh, we'll figure that out later." Satoru gives a quick kiss on your cheek. "Everything happened so fast, y'know? Us reuniting and everything: It feels like fate." Suguru's eyes flash. "Let's not rush this. We'll take our time." 
Suguru nods along thoughtfully. He's looking right at you, and you stare right back. Not used to feeling left out, Satoru is quick to intervene. 
The conversation is light, two long-time friends reuniting after a long spell. You stay quiet like decor, settling into Satoru's side. Suguru doesn't acknowledge you after that. 
"We gotta' go. It's getting late." He eventually says, tugging you along. 
Suguru gives a pleasant smile. "Of course, of course. We should catch up sometime." He directs this at you. You give a strained smile before Satoru leads you off. 
"Suguru." The man turns. Satoru grins. 
"I loved my gift. Thanks, man." 
Suguru's smile is catlike. 
"You kids have fun." He calls out right when Satoru's dragging you away all over again. 
You're silent. Not in the way you usually are, pliant and cute. You're thinking. He gives you a nudge. 
"What's goin' on in that pretty head of yours?" 
You shake your head. "Nothing." And then you say, "He's changed." 
From your view, Satoru supposed that's true, but really—
"Nah." Gojo shakes his head. "He's just dropped his act." 
Satoru's hand was wrapped around your waist when you two ran into him. You hadn't noticed him yet, eyes fixed on the floor. The lawyer hadn't changed since the last time Satoru saw him. That dead expression, those creepy eyes. Higuruma's eyes flit over your figure, before he finds Satoru's. 
He stares. Satoru stares right back. Something gives, and the lawyer calls out your name. 
"How are you?" His tone is cool, and this is another reason why Satoru can't stand him. The guy has no tells. He's just a talking robot. 
Unlike you, fidgeting by his side, practically vibrating with nerves. 
"I'm fine, sir." Your smile gets more painful to look at by the second. 
Your voice earns you a tired smile, a mild pinch of humor. Higuruma shakes his head, waving you off. 
"No need for formalities. We aren't at work." His smile drops just a bit, as he watches you for a bit more, eyes flickering to your hand. "I was...surprised when I saw the announcement. I didn't know you and Mr. Gojo were involved." 
Satoru grins, making himself known like a shark in the water. His grip on you tightens. 
"Oh, you didn't tell your boss 'bout us, baby?" He looks down at you with cruel mirth, pinching your cheek. You wilt. "We go way back—highschool sweethearts. Lost contact for a couple years. It's actually thanks to you we were able to find each other again. We'll send you the invites." He presses a kiss to your hairline. 
Higuruma hums at that. Satoru expected jealousy in his eyes; he's even more upset when he finds none. 
"I'll be sure to save the date." 
Then he shuts Satoru down completely. 
"I heard about your resignation. It's sad to see you go," Higuruma says. 
You nod, but you don't look at him. "Satoru and I talked about it, and we decided it's best if I focused on other things." 
"Very, very busy, this one nowadays." Satoru interrupts. "Between wedding plannin' and all that."
"Is that so?" Higuruma says dismissively, "in any case, you already knew this, but I've begun preparations to start a new firm." He reaches into his wallet, pulling out a card. "I always thought you were good at what you do. If you ever want to get back into the industry, call me." 
You take the laminate slip with a quiet thank you. Satoru feels blue turn into red. 
When Higuruma slips into the party, Satoru tightens his grip on you a little harsher than necessary. He's dragging you through the halls. Behind him, he can hear you stumbling over your heels, begging him to slow down. He knows he should care, but he doesn't. That damn lawyer. Those dead eyes. Mocking him. 
"Did you fuck him?" He asks when his anger has reached a high enough peak that he presses you against the wall. 
Your eyes are wild, flitting back and forth. He'd your expression a little cute if he wasn't feeling like a furnace, at the moment. 
"No. I—we never." You say. "Mr. Higuruma was my boss. And—and he's married—" 
"Really? 'cause you're precious 'Mr. Higuruma' was eyeing you up and down like he's already seen what's underneath." 
"'Toru." You plead. "Let's—let's just talk about this at home. Please? Let's just go home." Home. You said that word again. If he were a better man, he'd melt, but he's not. 
"Shut up." He spits out. "Hike up your dress." 
You stare at him. Then, you try to smile, like he's making a shitty joke. It wavers on your lips. 
"It's...we're still in public." You whisper and it's so cute you think he'd actually care about that. "We—we can't...we shouldn't—" 
"Baby." His voice drops, as he licks at your neck. "Pull up your dress, get rid of those panties. Otherwise, I'm just gonna take it off myself." 
He doesn't need to explain anything further. You already get what he's saying. Right now, Satoru doesn't care if you leave this building with your clothes intact. 
He thinks the worst part is that he knows he's being unreasonable. He's backing you into a corner where you'll have no choice but to surrender, and he knows that, but he keeps thinking about those man's eyes and how he looked at you and it was just all so much. 
He'll apologize to you later, with flowers and shiny gold earrings. He'd give you the world; just be good for him now. 
He just needs his fix. So just be good for him now.
When Satoru discovers it's been you all along, he feels like an idiot. 
In a pathetic way of defending himself, he convinces himself there's no way he could have recognized you. You're so different compared to your high-school self. 18-years old, fresh-eyed, naive. The you now is all grown up: a mature voice, a new hairstyle, clothes he'd never even think you'd wear. 
It also didn't help that he couldn't even see your face since you turned away every time he looked at you. 
Embarrassing. He's just glad Suguru wasn't here to call his blunder. 
He thought about it a lot. He spent an hour in his office, pacing around, doing nothing but thinking and thinking and thinking. Part of him wants to corner you already. He can already feel your rabbit heartbeat on his fingertips, the look you always had in your eyes when he was right in front of you. Part of him wants to ruin your life the same way you ruined his. He wants to tear you apart, piece by piece. Leave you in tattered pieces. 
But he can't do that. Satoru still loves you. 
You left him a hollow shell. Broken. Tainted. There are pieces of him he still can't find. He should hurt you. He's hurt other people for doing less. But they weren't you. Even after all those years, he's never quite stopped loving you. 
But he wants to sate his bloodlust, just a tiny bit. 
His perfect opportunity comes where he, the lawyer, and you are all sitting in one of the waiting rooms. The lawyers explaining something, possibly about the ongoing case. Satoru doesn't really care. Besides, this is what Ijichi's here for. 
He waits until everyone is quiet. You're unassuming. By then, your shoulders have lowered, like you think you've gotten away with it 
"Hey," he says, "do we know each other?" 
The other two don't bother, but you stop completely. The pen in your grip shakes. Satoru resists the urge to laugh. 
You timidly glance up like you're still delusional enough to think there's a fifth person he's talking to. Satoru has always been told his eyes are like two suns: bright and intense. He lowers his glasses. You wilt under the solar flares. 
"Hm?" He prods, enjoying the way you shrivel. "Have we?" 
You swallow, glassy eyes flicking from side to side. Finally, you clear your throat. 
"No." You mutter, voice barely a whisper. "I don't think we have." 
"Are you sure?" To intensify the magnifying glass, he leans closer, like he's examining you. "'cause you look really familiar." 
To his delight, you chew on your bottom lip. He can imagine biting it until it's bloody and raw. He stops just when you're about to shatter completely. Breaking you too soon would take the fun out of it. 
"Oh, wait. I don't think that was you." He relents, pulling back and he can see the relief ooze over your face. "I think I got you mixed up with someone who interviewed here a couple months ago. My bad. Maybe you have one of those faces." 
You nod, eager to take the out. 
"Yes," you quickly say, "one of those faces." 
How adorable. You haven't changed since high school. 
He's usually not this obvious, but Suguru isn't here to berate him about it and it's not like anyone else will get on his ass. The women he brings in are his usuals: tall models with full lips and perfect bodies. Satoru parades them around like expensive jewelry. He wants to see you seethe in envy, stew in it. He wants you to see what you abandoned. 
But you don't do any of that. You just sit there, like the dutiful little workbee you are, right by your boss's side.
And then, you give one of them your jacket. Satoru can't stand it wrapped around her waist like she fucking owns it—own you. She wears it so flagrantly, like any token from you shouldn't be worshipped and coveted. He hates it. He hates it. 
"I've never done this in an office before." She squeals when she shuts the door behind her. "So, how do you—" 
"Get out." 
The girl pauses. What was her name again? Satou was too pissed to give a single shit. 
"Um, what?" 
"What, you deaf or something?" He waves her off as if he weren't seething. "Get out." 
"Oh," she says, blinks, and then she takes a step back. 
"Wait." Satoru stops her. 
"Take that off." He points to your jacket. She does it with zero complaints. When he tells her to drop it on the chair, she follows that too. Reluctant expectation. Kind of like you. Maybe that's why he was initially invested in her. 
He only takes the fabric after she's gone. It's soft underneath his fingertips. Nothing designer, but good quality. When you're finally underneath him again, he'll buy you better clothes, all the jackets you want. 
He needs you. He can't wait anymore. 
He needs you, whether you want him or not. 
Satoru wakes up to something crashing. 
It's faint, obviously coming from the bathroom. Not the best way to be woken up. He remembers the first few nights he brought you home. He'd hear you crying in your sleep, choking on tiny sobs. It was the sweetest little thing, like a whimpering puppy. 
These noises are a little more concerning. 
He yawns, sliding out of bed. You didn't bother locking the door. You didn't even close it all the way, either. A sliver of light comes from the crack before he pushes it open. 
"Baby?" He calls. You don't answer. 
You had knocked over a caddy. Toothbrushes, hairclips, soap dispensers, perfume bottles were scattered all over the floor. You're curled up in the corner of the bathroom, huddled right next to the tub. You seem physically okay, no blood, no bruising, but he can't see your face. And you're shivering. 
Satoru's about to call out to you, when he steps on something. He looks down at the tiles. 
A positive pregnancy test. 
"I'm not keeping it." Your voice is hoarse, like you've been crying for hours. "I'm not keeping it." 
"Pretty girl." He coos, trying his best to keep the glee out of his voice and failing. "Let's not worry 'bout that, right now. C'mon, let's get you off the floor." He reaches for your hand. You smack it away. It stung. 
When you look at him, eyes bloodshot and brimming with angry tears, Satoru's heart skips a beat. He feels like he just trapped a wild animal, making it pace in a corner. Any wrong move could result in his hand getting bit off. It's scary. 
He's finally cracked you. 
"Fuck you." Your voice shakes and wobbles, but it's loud and you're clear. "Fuck you. You're a sick, twisted man-child. You ruined everything. You ruined my entire life and—and now you—" 
You're cut off by his giggling. It sounds psychotic even to his ears. He's beyond caring. You flinch when lifts your face up, forcing you to look into his eyes. He's smiling so hard it hurts. 
"Yeah, I did that. I ruined you. I ruined your entire fucking life. For me." He stresses, squeezing your face so hard you try to pull away. "But I had to. You—you wouldn't be here if I didn't." He sighs, pressing your body to his. "I need you."
You're both huddled on the bathroom floor, captive and lover. He's clutching you to his chest, smiling, nestling his face in your hair. You don't say anything for a while. 
"I'm not keeping it." You whisper. "I'm not. I wouldn't stand it if it ended up like you." 
It's spiteful. You're still in that phase where you think your venom can hurt him, as though he'd see your blows as anything but blessings. Satoru thinks to his own childhood. Where he was given everything, lathered in gold and silver. Yet, the house was always cold. But you were always so warm. 
"That won't happen." He tells you. "'cause you're here." 
Your anger has dwindled to smoke. Maybe you've finally realized how crazy he was for you. 
"Please let me go." It's not a beg. It's not even a request. 
"I can't," he honestly says. 
"You won't." You correct him. 
He smiles in your hair. 
"No baby," he says, "I can't." 
If you ran away again, if you escaped his claws, he'd probably die. Drop dead, rot on the floor. He needs you. Even more than he needs food, water, and oxygen. You won't understand that. You've never been in love before. 
You don't fight him. If anything, you sink into his hold. He's there to catch you, heart soaring. You lean into his chest 
"I hate you." You whisper. His heart beats a little faster. It's probably the first time you've ever been so honest with him. 
God, he loves you. 
"I hope our baby has your eyes," he says. 
"I hope our baby looks exactly like you." 
You say nothing, but when he leans down to kiss you, you finally kiss back. You're cracked, and your essence is ready to be molded in his image, just like he's always wanted you to be. 
If Satoru is the Sun, then you must certainly be his universe, the plane in which he rests, because there would be no existence for him if not for you. 
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