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#public apology lol that was my bad
hereforh · 1 year
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frazzledazzlin · 1 year
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hope u guys don't mind me being a little queer sometimes and talking to myself in the tags, it helps clear my head since people can filter out rant posts easily
#bc i had not used this place in a while until late 2022 ive absolutely forgotten if i used to talk to myself in tags here before or not#i say this bc i now have people who actively see my art here n just throwing random rants here would be very rude so i prefer tags help#feels safer here too LOL#also feels a little scary but im sure that's normal for many that there are ppl who read all tags mein gott#NOT A BAD THING THAT PPL READ TAGS i wouldn't be writing anything if i wanted to kill people for reading tags lol#just stating observations aheem aheem#its like writing on a public bathroom's walls and people passing by to be like “damn bitch ok” /funny#also do not worry at all about how i express myself i do apologize if my words sometimes sound like im on the brink but like#violence is the only way i love to be expressive HELP#watch me be on the government watchlist for the shit ive said gootbyeeeeeeee#but do not feel worried i will be ok eventually every time. sometimes i just gotta explode oh so violently to deflate and feel normal again#WISH I COULD USE EMOJIS ON THIS DAMN PC#anyway the person im trying my damned to avoid is Sure Making It Difficult#at least the people i wanted to know why i was autotune crying baby for a while heard me out n im alive in that regard finally smile emoji#how long can you keep gently hinting you want to distance yourself from somebody until you lose your goddam mind and feel sweet relief when#they actually leave said group themselves after getting my blunt hints help help#oh i sound so fucking rude with just my side but mein gott i don't care bc it was never a serious thing to begin with#just shot my anger thru the roof for good reason and finalliegh im getting mutual distance from that person lol#never get close with ur fave artists worst mistake of my life /hj for real#u start off loving seeing them every time and then boom youre sad how things turned out every time you see them my god#also make sure ur minor friends dont feel like they need to mend things for the adults i feel so fucking sad for someone bc of this rn but#i talked to them n hopefully they understand aouhg.#anyway back to queer posting thats enough soup for today good god#ranting
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angelfrommontgomery · 8 months
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Every day lately it’s been a cycle of “I’m too crazy and controlling and unlovable” vs “I was treated poorly. Not my fault !” And I am unable to find the middle ground. I gotta get back in class seriously
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trashmainblog · 2 years
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oooh I'm feeling real burnout right now. i know i am bc i just. keep snapping at people at work. snapped at the executive chef. snapped at another bartender in the group chat. good gd.
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arminsumi · 4 months
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Can we please please please have more of bad boy Geto?? Sfw or nsfw as per your wishh
🔞 MDNI/18+
★ BAD BOY!
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★ Pt. 1
★ Pairings : Geto Suguru / fem!reader
★ Synopsis : your boyfriend is a bad boy that your parents disapprove of 😈🏍️🖤
★ Warnings : 🔞 MDNI/18+, smut, cunnilingus, creampies, condoms/taking off condoms (consensual), riding his motorcycle 🥵, names (princess/baby/sl*t), some cervix rubbing/big d*ck Geto, toys (G-spot vibe), bl*wjob, degradation, corruption kink, daddy kink, breeding kink, mentions of being drunk (fluffy), +++
★ Note : i wrote this in public and felt super giggly abt it lol
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— ★ Bad boy Geto Suguru who rumbles down your street on his bike, gloved hands resting on the handles, and stares at your house. He waits and quickly sees you trotting out the front door like a princess escaping her castle. He gives you a French kiss before saying "Hey princess. Hop on."
— ★ Bad boy Geto Suguru who has watched you ride his motorcycle — no no, not in the way you think. Panties soaked. Clit squished on the seat. Rutting back and forth. "That's a good little princess. Cum on it like it's my thigh."
— ★ Bad boy Geto Suguru who takes you to get your first body piercing. He leads you by the hand and his face is alight with a devilish grin. "I can't wait to buy you pretty piercings, baby. You're gonna look so good strutting around town wearing my diamonds."
— ★ Bad boy Geto Suguru who asks after suckling on your puffy clit for a whole hour; "Baby, I think you like me too much. You know I'm a bad influence, right?"
— ★ Bad boy Geto Suguru who lets you sit on his lap whenever you have to treat one of his black eyes. "Hey, you know what would make me feel better, baby? If you rode my lap like you ride on my bike 😇"
— ★ Bad boy Geto Suguru who makes it very apparent that he has a tongue piercing by rolling it over your clit and through your slit over and over. He laps up your juices after making you cum, and seductively wipes the streak of your slick off his cheek with his thumb.
— ★ Bad boy Geto Suguru who loves it when your secret kinks slip past your lips. "Did you just call me daddy?" he asks and you immediately blabber apologies, but he just silences you with a rough kiss, "I can be your daddy, baby. You just lay back and take it like a good girl, okay?"
— ★ Bad boy Geto Suguru who grins like a devil when corrupting you with new kinks, and enjoys turning your innocent kinks into something nastier.
"You're taking me so well." he praises you in a soft voice while his cockhead rubs into your cervix, "Can't believe your pussy can take so much cock. Such a greedy little cunt..." he puts his full weight on you when he nears orgasm, trapping you with his sweaty, muscular body. "Fuck, your slutty little hole is gonna milk me dry. You ready? Yeah I'm gonna give you my babies. Can't believe you wanna get pregnant. You just need a big cock stretching you out 'n that makes you happy, yeah? Aw, cockdrunk fuckin' slut... yeah I know you like it when I call you a slut, too. Nasty little slut. Take my cock, baby. Just take it."
— ★ Bad boy Geto Suguru who is also a tattoo artist and gives you your first tattoo. You have to hide it from your parents, and something about this fact makes Suguru smirk. He's put his mark on their precious girl — their daughter.
— ★ Bad boy Geto Suguru who gets off on the fact he's the bad boy corrupting someone's innocent daughter.
"Baby, you know I'm no good." he hums against your ear in an irresistible voice. "You shouldn't be sneaking around with me." he drops his voice lower and nibbles your ear, "You're being a bad girl."
— ★ Bad boy Geto Suguru who, when drunk with you, proclaims his love for you over and over and over.
"Fuck, babyyy I love you so much. Come here 'n gimme another kiss." and then he smothers you with kisses until you're making out on his parked motorcycle in the empty parking lot at night. "God, whenever I kiss you I feel like marrying you so bad..."
— ★ Bad boy Geto Suguru who treats you like you're a goddess. Wiping your tears when you cry about anything, murmuring "Please don't cry, princess." and also using this line on you when you cry from pleasure about how big his cock is, or when your eyes water when deepthroating him for the first time.
— ★ Bad boy Geto Suguru who, even after being kicked out of your house many times by your dad, still climbs in through your window to fuck you in your bed.
He fills condom after condom but then he checks his wallet and oops — he ran out of condoms. "I wanna take you raw, Sugu, please!" you paw at his abdomen and wiggle your pussy back down on his sensitive cock. He hisses through his teeth, "Fuck, okay... anythin' for my princess..." and plunges his big cock into you raw.
— ★ Bad boy Geto Suguru who has been shoved out of the front door by the collar of his biker's jacket by your disapproving parents. He makes a joke of it, putting his hands up as if he's being arrested and laughing naughtily.
— ★ Bad boy Geto Suguru who promises; "I'll come back for ya, princess." and he does. He whisks you away. You give him dolly eyes and beg to run away with him.
— ★ Bad boy Geto Suguru who stuffs a hot pink G-spot vibrator in your pussy before letting you straddle his motorcycle.
He smirks while riding, knowing that you're feeling the rumbling vibrations on your pussy as well as the buzzing of the toy stuffed inside you. Oh and he just loves seeing you struggle to dismount the seat once you're parked. "Bad girl, you made the seat all wet with your pussy." he scolds playfully.
— ★ Bad boy Geto Suguru who always unzips his pants tantalizingly slowly.
His heavy cock smacks against your cheek as soon as it's freed, it's always accidentally-on-purpose. "Sorry, princess, did that hurt?" he asks sarcastically while rubbing his tip across your glossy lips. "Spit on it." he commands, and you happily spit on his cock. "That's a good girl — kitten lick it. Yeah, just like that." he groans and tenses his abs. "Now open wide."
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© arminsumi
I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.
This is fictional work.
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satoruhour · 6 months
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*runs in*
colllege athlete!au where jjk men see you in their varsity jacket and just goes batshit crazy. They defo win the game afterwards and fuck you in it, best orgasm of your life.
*runs out*
❄️
a/n: MY LORD .......................... YOU JUST UNLOCKED SUM IN ME ICY !!!!! discussions of p -> v sex, unprotected sex, breeding, oral f! receiving, name calling, semi-public sex, long LONG post
gojo would def be the one to suggest it at first. hes even offering to buy two jackets just for you but then youre like “but i dont want you to waste money satoru... plus i want it to smell like you..!” omg that makes gojo cum on the spot lmfao. but is mostly caught off guard when you first wear it - it happens when its the half time of the game and his team is not doing particularly well bc he made u a little upset the night before and he felt bad :( youve been on his mind for the whole game and hes so distracted poor boy. but u also think you were being a little childish in how you reacted, so youre stealing his varsity jacket way earlier than he leaves and hes so confused when that morning he cant find it. shows up to the game in another jacket and got an earful from his coach that no one really likes, and bc theyre doing so badly, at half time the coach didnt want to meet with them for pep talk either. boo fuck the coach but anyway, youre rushing down to the lockets and whatnot in his jacket. feels like straight out of a movie dude omg. that troy and gabriella shit bc gojo is dragged outside and is hugging you close and muttering apologies into your neck, kissing u all over sigh. its gotten him a big boost of adrenaline tho! and as the star player of his team a lot of his teammates feed off of his energy. gojo is the last to leave the locker room, wanting to have a little more time with you. he twirls you around and admires you in his large jacket and makes out with you until he hears the buzzer from outside LOL. gives u a deep kiss, “ill win and fuck you good later, alright princess?” “go get ’em, satoru. i’ll be here always.”
yeah he def fucked you good later on, making you strip out of everything but his jacket and pounded u nice and good in the locker room long after everyone left. made you ride him on the benches, ate you out as you sat on the benches and kept thanking u for being his lucky charm thru all his matches. the grip on your hips were so heavy they were pprobably bruised, and the clanking of the lockers were so noisy it was a wonder you two werent caught. “that’s right, baby— taking my cock like the good girl you are,” you’re pushed up against the university lockers and railed into from brhind, sticking his fingers into your mouth as he made u arch your back in that varsity jacket of his. ooh lord. brought you out on a winning date and fucked u in his car, fucked you back at his home all the while wearing his jacket !!!!!!!
/
geto has never thought of it personally, but he wonders about it one day, thinking bout you in it without anything and he gets hard as heeellllll. has been wantin to put you in it for the longest time but just didnt have the opportunity to - youre always prepared with a cardigan or jacket of your own or you simply just dont get cold much to suguru’s dismay. so when you’re shivering one day before a game (sometimes they would watch the match before to get a sense of the two teams, and also bc you wanted to travel light handed for the date geto was going to bring you to after), geto’s so so quick to offer up his varsity jacket before you can think of any counter to it. but what you dont tell him is that youve been “avoiding” in a way, just bc you know if u get access to his jacket he will never. get. it. back. you have a knack for stealing his clothes bc geto smells good good and youre addicted to his scent. but either way youre trying not to gasp at the largeness of the jacket ... 🙏 same girl. you’re slipping one arm and then the other, wrapped in the safeness of geto’s jacket and hes trying so hard to show u that he isnt shivering LMFOAOAAOAO thank god the match was ending already and his team was up next. gojo only nods towards you later in the locker room as you stay thru their coach’s talk, smiling sickly bc he just knew what his best friend was going to do afterwards.
soon enough he can hear the cheers of the spectators flood his ears but hes only focused on you running up to him from the bleachers and hugs you close in his sweaty body (which u protest against and laugh about), but hes whispering “you dont mind though, right baby?” yeah you DEF dont mind it when he pulls you into the janitor’s closet and his body is grinding against yours. “was so hard playing through the game, yknow how difficult that is?” you reply back with i cant imagine with a giggle and let him do whatever he wants to you: hes so impatient he cant pull his game pants down all the way and the same goes for you. both your bottoms are stuck atound your thighs, and youre trying to stay quiet in that squeezy closet. it’s hard. youre so wet you dont exactly need foreplay, just maybe some brief fingering which has you whining into his neck and he slips in after. fucks you until the pails and cleaning supplies are falling to the floor and youre hoping to take off the varsity jacket but he refrains you from it, loving the way ur white shirt is turning wet from all your sweat. it’s sloppy, disgusting, juices spurting everywhere and youre so tight from your pressed-together thighs. i guess he has no choice but to put you in a mating press too and he goes so deeeep in that position you moan out loud. “yeah— made to take my cock like a slut, ain’t ya? only natural when you’re lookin’ so good in my jacket.” getos gross and u love it.
/
nanami fits better as an alumni whos come back for a friendly current students vs alumni match. hes entering the gym with haibara and his two annoying seniors gojo and geto and while they talk a lot of crap theyre great players. nanami comes up to greet you since youre still their manager and hes one year above you. dating across years is a little difficult esp with how nanami was in his last year of uni, and now that hes looking for work while u finish your last year .... it’s hectic thats for sure, but u guys make it work perfectly fine bc nanami prioritises you a lot!! but late youve been busy with midterms and him with settling in with his new job that he almost forgot about today’s match. is met with nostalgia the first time he steps intothe gym again but he never expected you to wear the varsity jacket that’s stuffed deep into your closet. frankly it doesnt fit him at all any mroe but you thought it to be fitting to wear it in this once in a lifetime match (bc hes just so busy!!!! to book a date w/ nanami is like going to the army dawg). nanami’s jaw drops when u first step foot into the gym and oh my god youre going to be the umpire too? he is going to become too distracted, instantly taken back to the many many times hes gotten you trapped in the gym bathroom with his cock in your mouth, or the time you ride him in the empty gym in the corner (it was late at night!!!!), or also the time right after his loss where he took all his anger and frustration out on you, jersey between his teeth as he uses you. something switched in nanami that day when u expressed how much u liked the roughness tee hee. surprisingly hes even more focused, in a way of proving something to himself bc he can probably count on everyone’s hands the number of times hes missed a cue from a teammate before when he was still in school just cause u were wearing his jacket 😭😭😭 man you dont even need to be in the jacket! thats how obsessed he is with u!!!
shoots you a small smile after each point and is trying to hard not to run to you to get a good job kiss. also finds the fact that youre judging appropriately and not showing biasness just cause nanami’s on one team really really hot! the way you call the shots, give the accurate penalties and that booming voice of yours echoing thru out the gym ..... youre so good at being umpire that even the juniors cant deny they lost fair and square and not just cause youre nanami’s girl. altho bc you two are so good at hiding they dont rlly suspect anything until hes kissing you - something that even he isnt that comfy with but he just needed to show off !!!!! that isnt the case when later he has you back in the gym, reminiscent of that one time!!! but nanami found it so hot, hes backing you back up into the quiet gym, illuminated by the moonlight. its way late after dinner and the uni students have gone back to their dorm already while the alumni has departed for their homes and its just you. thank god the gym is also located in a place that is a little secluded and disconnected from the campus so it isnt long before youre both making out against the walls of the gym, moans and sounds echoing in the large hall. “just like old times?” “yeah. except ill be taking my time with you” yeah, u take ur time indeed: the gargling of your mouth and groans of nanami is so disgustingly filthy, slobbering all over his dick and he also eats you out on the floor. when he stretches u out with his fingers you can hear yourself bc youre so wet that you drip to the floor. but none of u give a shit when you settle atop nanami and start riding him needily, bouncing and moaning out his name. the way the sounds of your slapping skin makes it way back to is gross!!!! but so hot!!!! its so lewd !!! you get tired soon enough and nanami thrusts up into you with whispers of ur name in the gym. u do that hot thing where you pull up your shirt and pull down ur bra so your tits r spilling out .... OOOOOOHH it gets nanami cumming instantly, esp with the large frame of the varsity jacket on you that he cums more than usual <3333
/
toji, rather than a player, is a coach for the team. youre the manager whos helping with all the admin stuff and waterbottles/towels and with moral in the team - kind of like kiyoko and yachi in hq, but when u show up always no one knows whose varsity jacket youre wearing. they all speculate between themselves and have their thoughts but the team members never suspect that it’s their own coaches one. it looks too similar to the team’s with no name on the back, the sewing is exactly the same and the small logo of their team takes its place on the left breast as usual. but they never bother to check the inside where toji has made a large blotched ‘T’ on the label and your name squeezed in on the underside. toji loves to see it on you, esp in games and while hed love to see it on you outside of it he cant run the risk that he’s dating the manager. but he also especially loves it when you surprise him at home: wearing his jacket with nothing but your panties, prancing around and doing chores as he comes back from another gruelling match. ohhhh the things he’d do to you... but the best is when you do it in public. that changes the whole game
you’re helping with practice here and there, picking up the stray shuttlecocks/volleyballs/whatever sport around the gym as they practice their drills, but toji realises you dont reach over and bend like you usually do - normally youd do it when you know toji’s the only one to be standing behind you so he can see your panties under the short skirt but you dont do ANYTHING so he wonders if he did smtg wrong. but also you’re squatting down to pick up things? it’s only later when you saunter up to him as his team is distracted and you unzip the jacket just a little and he gets the glimpse of the lingerie set he bought you and very very riskily bringing his hand down to your centre where you’re bare. toji groans to himself when he feels that youre already so wet, playing with your folds just barely until his student calls out to him and youre both shocked out of your daze. “you’re in for it, doll.” takes u to the equipment room, and fucks right after dismissing the team. “doing this typa shit in front of the boys? dirty girl.” youre holding onto the shelves of the equipment and it’s rattling so much that things are tethering so close to the edge, it’s insanity. the sight of his cock disappearing into you while you wear that short skirt is just pure serotonin for him, plus your moans echo a lot throughout the room along with the slapping of ur skin. stuffs the collar of the varsity jacket into your mouth to keep you quiet as he cums in you <3333 “look at that...” sighs when he removes his cock from you and cum drips to the floor, “my pretty manager.”
OKAY BYE . I NEED TO BE SPAYED.
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endlessthxxghts · 6 months
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You Better Jump... (part 2 of 2)
no outbreak!neighbor!joel miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈9k
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Summary: Your neighbor fixed your lock for you. How can you ever repay him? [read part 1 here]
Warnings: Canon divergent (no outbreak) & mentions of Sarah but we don't see or interact with her (AU - she moved out, lives on her own). Partial physical description of reader (having a thick/curvy body, wears a dress/feminine). Reader is a polyglot but no explicit mentions of race/ethnicity. Feminine pet names (sweet girl, darlin’, etc.). Flirty/awkward interactions and heightened sexual tension. Reader’s unhinged bestie <3. Implied age gap, but no explicit mention as to how big. LATINO JOEL MILLER (😫). An oddly weird amount of sweetness for 2 people who just met LOL. SMUT 18+ MDNI: Joel gets turned on at reader being a polyglot LMAO. Overall dirty talk/vulgar language. Dom/sub undertones (not heavy or established but definitely present). Vaginal fingering, p in v unprotected (I’m not sorry), semi-public sexual activity, thigh riding, bit of exhibitionism kink, oral sex (f receiving), squirting (blink and you’ll miss it), spit kink, choking, hickeys/marking… please let me know if I’ve missed anything!!
A/N: HERE'S PART 2 (THE FINAL PART)! ENJOY, MY LOVES!!💚
MASTERLIST
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You and Joel make out like that, with your front door wide open, until you hear a loud meow from what you immediately know to be the neighborhood cat who likes to visit you once in a while. You two break away from each other, breathless, startled from the feline just sitting at the foot of your door.
You look back up to Joel with a cheesy grin on your face, and he mirrors your expression, bringing one of his hands up to run along your red and swollen bottom lip. “Sorry,” he chuckles breathily, “got a little carried away.” 
You slowly lean forward into his touch and take his thumb into your mouth, swirling it around your tongue. “Don’t apologize,” you say. You pull your mouth off his thumb and leave a little kiss to the pad of it, “I liked it.”
He groans, his eyes completely black and the grip on your waist tightens, “Darlin’,” he warns, “I need to take you out properly first.”
You slowly back away an inch with a smile full of trouble and put your hands up in a surrendering motion.
His jaw clenches, “You’re trouble, aren’t ya, sweetheart?”
You shrug your shoulders in response, “Maybe.” You fall to your knees in front of him, slowly, and pick up the tools he dropped before your little makeout session. You stand on your knees, head in line with his hips, and look up at him. You reach around and tuck his tools in the back pocket of his jeans, grabbing onto his belt loops to pull yourself back on your feet, “Thank you for fixing my door for me, Joel.” 
Before you can break away from the close proximity, his arm snakes around your waist yet again and pulls you in, his other free hand going straight for the underside of your jaw. “Pick you up at seven tonight, hm? Wear somethin’ pretty,” he says, leaning in for a deep kiss that sucks all the air out of you, “Somethin’ that gives me easy access, yeah?” 
And with that, he walks out (the cat in tow), shutting the door in the process. 
✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
It’s 5 o'clock by the time Joel left you completely speechless at his last words, and it’s 6 by the time you call your best friend to get your ass over here right now and update her on everything that happened, including her stupid ass comment that made it right into Joel’s earshot. Of course, she laughs hysterically at that, slapping the shit out of your arm with every deep breath she takes at an attempt to calm herself. 
“Alright, bitch,” she says, wiping the edges of her eyes from any residue tears, “Let’s get ya dressed, so you can jump-”
“That’s enough,” you say, slapping your hand over her mouth.
✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
Holy fuck. 
All your life, you were never really confident in yourself. You were secure enough in your identity that you knew you weren’t that bad to the average eye, but you also very much knew that you weren’t jaw-droppingly sexy. That is, until Joel made you feel like the hottest person on the planet with how he couldn’t control himself with you. Mix in your best friend’s way of hyping you up, and fuck did you feel unstoppable. 
You’re not much of a dress person, but you did have a silk, dark green spaghetti strap dress that you bought on a whim a year back. You were slightly skinnier then, but the way it hugs you now accentuates all the right curves and you’ve never felt so fucking beautiful. The dress is also very flowy, having a long slit on both sides, stopping at your hip. Standing, sitting down, no matter what angle, anyone is bound to see a slip of your underwear. Which is totally the reason why you make the executive decision to not wear any, and not because of Joel’s words ringing in your ear since it left his mouth. 
You enter your living room once again, giving your best friend a bit of a show before you kick her ass out, and just as your laughs settle down, you hear a knock at your door. 
No fuckin’ way it’s been an hour already, you think to yourself. Your eyes go wide as you look at your best friend, her expression mirroring yours. You frantically look at the clock on your television stand, and, it has been an hour already, fuck. 
You tell your best friend to hide in your room for now because there is absolutely no way she’s meeting Joel yet. She frowns, but ultimately she listens and runs to your room while you run to grab the door. 
You’re already out of breath from the show you were giving your best friend, and the nerves that were building with Joel on the other side of the door you were about to open is not helping one bit. 
You planned on just side-stepping him and making it straight for his car, so he doesn’t come inside, but as soon as the door opens, your breath hitches. Joel is so fucking sexy, Jesus fucking Christ, you want to swallow him whole right fucking now. As your eyes give him a full sweep, you make it down to his sleek black shoes, and in your peripheral vision, you see that your feet are still bare. Shit, there goes your plan. 
“Well, aren’t you a pretty sight,” he says, also looking you up and down, matching your energy, wanting to devour you just as bad. You smirk up at him and muster up a bashful thank you, but you’re still in a trance from how good he looks. Finally, you feel the outside air tickle your feet, so you start stepping backwards into your apartment, beginning to kneel down to reach the heels you set aside earlier. 
He notices where you’re headed and stops you by gently grabbing you by the hip, “Here, may I?” And before you can even think to decline (which you never would), he’s already on his knees for you, for the second time today, and you can’t help the pooling arousal in your core. Your panty-less core, to be exact, which is now only inches away from him. 
He grabs your foot and situates it on his knee while he works to unclasp the strap. When he does, his rough hands are grabbing your ankle so contrastingly soft and situating your foot into the heel. He makes sure the strap wraps perfectly around your ankle, and seeing how big his hands are, you would think he would struggle with such a tiny buckle. But no, he clasps it faster than even you would, and he finishes off by leaving a sweet kiss just above where the strap lays on you. He hears your breath hitch at that, so, like the menace he is, he places three more soft kisses, making the journey higher up your leg. And before you can beg him to keep going, he’s already switching your feet around, and repeating the exact same process to your other foot. Including the three kisses up your leg. He looks up at you, a smug smile and a playful sparkle in his eye, “Ready, pretty girl?”
“Y-yeah, I-I’m ready,” you stutter out, eyes already glossed over. He stands at full height now, his hand falling to your lower back as he guides you to the front door. He pauses, though, and you look up at him slightly confused. “I reckon she won’t be here when we get back, but, uh, aren’t ya gonna introduce me to your little friend?” 
Your eyes go wide, “How-?” You begin to question, but his fingers are already at your chin, guiding you to look at the black Jeep, backed into a parking spot next to your car, with a bumper sticker of a half set of butterfly wings. It perfectly matches up to the sticker on your car, making a full butterfly. “Oh,” you say defeated but also impressed he picked up on such a little detail. It makes your heart warm a little. 
He lets you go from his grasp, and you turn your body in the general direction of your room and yell, “Bitch, get out he-” 
It’s as if she had her ear to the door the entire time, waiting for the moment she could dart out because she doesn’t even give you a moment to finish your statement. She’s already in front of you both within seconds. 
You give her the eyes that she immediately translates as please play it cool, but you both know she won’t. “Hi, Joel, right? I’ve heard lots about ya,” she spits out at the speed of lightning as she holds her hand out for him to take, and she quickly follows by introducing her name. Joel chuckles at her eagerness and his date’s obvious embarrassment. It’s endearing. Reminds him of his relationship with Tommy. It warms him to know you have a true ride or die in your life, it’s rare to come across these days. 
Eventually the introductions are over, your best friend is headed back to her home, and you and Joel are headed to some restaurant that he refuses to tell you the name or where it is, just that the “Drive is worth it, I promise.”
“A 40 minute drive?” you say jokingly just to rile him up, “This better be the best goddamn thing my mouth is ever gonna taste, then.”
His stare breaks from the road for a moment to look at you, then it’s back on the road. But he has a shit-eating grin on his face. “We might as well turn around then, huh? Because the best goddamn thing that mouth of yours is ever gonna taste is not available in any restaurant, no matter how far or fancy.”
It takes you a minute to register, but when it does, you can feel your cheeks and ears heat up, spreading down to your chest, and eventually his dirty implication forces the heat to settle in between your legs. “Christ,” you say under your breath as you shift your hips in his passenger seat, not wanting your already soaked pussy to get anywhere. 
Maybe you should’ve worn some panties after all. 
✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
You guys are on the last stretch of your drive, about ten minutes left, and Joel’s hand has found his home on your thigh, thoughtlessly rubbing his fingers up and down. However, your mind is completely racing because fuck you just wish he’d move up a little higher to where you are absolutely begging for him the most. 
As if he hears your plea, his hand goes higher and higher, but then he stops. His hand goes rigid, grip gets a little tighter, and his breath gets a little heavier. His hand is high enough to where he should be feeling the hem of your underwear, or at least that’s what he was expecting to feel. 
“Darlin’?”
“Yes, Joel?” you say as innocently as possible.
“Are you not…?”
“No,” losing the innocence in a matter of seconds. 
“You’re fuckin’ killin’ me, baby,” he grits out as his hand resumes his path to your wetness. The closer he gets, the more your hips try and angle upwards so he can reach you better, and as soon as his fingers are running through your folds, you’re fucking done for. 
“We’re not leavin’ this car ‘til you cum at least twice on my fingers,” he says, his voice completely dark now. “Ya hear me?” He questions as he applies pressure to your clit.
“Fuck! Yes- yes, please, Joel,” you whine out. You shift your body slightly towards his direction, and you open your legs as much as his truck allows you to. Immediately, his fingers slide from your clit and come down to your entrance, spreading your wetness all over you. 
He dips into your hole, just one finger in and slowly starts pumping in and out. You’re so turned on by him that just one finger is enough to make that wet squelching sound from going in and out of you. You let out a moan at the action, your one hand shooting to grip the handle of your door and the other gripping onto his bicep. “You make the sweetest sounds for me, darlin’,” he says to you, southern twang increasing in line with his own arousal. 
“Please, baby-” you mutter as your head falls back. His one finger speeds up at your words, “Oh, c’mon, use those words,” he teases a second finger at your entrance. 
He’s only using one finger right now, and you’re already fucked out, unable to speak or think. You so badly want more of him, though, so you will yourself to talk. “Oh, p-please, an- another finger, Joel, please.. n-need you so bad, please,” you beg. 
“That’s right, baby, usin’ your words for me,” he slides his second finger in, “Dámelo.” Give it to me.
“Oh my god,” you damn near scream out, his words spurring you on more than you’ve ever felt. More slick leaks out of you at his Spanish command. Of course he’s fucking sexy and has the filthiest mouth, in multiple languages, known to man. His two fingers are coming in and out of you at a delicious rate, the thickness and length of him hits that sweet spot in you without even trying. “Touch your clit, baby,” you barely hear him say with how blissed out your head feels. Slowly, you let go of the door handle beside you and bring your hand to your clit, rubbing messy circles on your center, coaxing your orgasm closer and closer to the edge. 
“Fuck, Joel, your fingers-” you say as he works you open. “My fingers, what? Go on, lemme hear you, trouble.” 
Your breathing speeds up to an erratic pace, hot and heavy, “t-too fuck-” your moan cuts you off as your orgasm approaches. He makes his fingers bend in a motion that hits you right where you need it, and- “Oh, fuck, I’m cumming, Joel.” 
“Fuck, yeah, that’s it, baby,” he says, his movements slowing momentarily. 
In your foggy haze, you find yourself peaking at the time, and- It’s only been four fucking minutes? Never has a man ever been able to make you cum that fast. Your past girlfriends, absolutely, but the men you slept with? They’re not even worthy of the label boyfriend if you’re being completely honest. Whatever the case is, you just know Joel has you absolutely fucked. You knew this from the start, of course, but it’s finally setting in. When he’s knuckle-deep inside you while less than ten minutes out from your mystery date location. Chivalry isn’t dead after all, huh?
You’re brought back from your slight distraction when you feel him pull out of you. You whimper at the loss, your hips raising for more. “I know, sugar, I know,” he comforts, “I just have to get a taste before I lose my fuckin’ mind.” His fingers disappear into his mouth, licking and sucking every last drop on him like you’re some lifesaving nectar he’s been searching all his life for. He lets out a pained groan, “I need to taste ya for real, fuck.” 
He gives you no time to react to his words because his fingers are back inside you in no time. This time he pumps into you with a steady pace but a deep pressure that has you unable to take a single breath in. Your eyes are rolled back, and it feels like you’re drowning. Like you’re being consumed in everything Joel, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 
Sweat is dripping down your neck at this point as the heat spreads from the apples of your cheeks to the swell of your breasts all the way down to your core. The sounds flowing out of you are uncontrollable and pure filth, and it’s riling him up so much that he is in literal physical pain. His hand that’s on the wheel is gripping so hard that his knuckles are ghost white, and his entire face is flushed with the utmost amount of pained self control you’ve ever fucking seen. 
“C’mon, my filthy fuckin’ girl,” he grunts out, “almost there, baby, need one more from you,” his pace finally speeding up in the way that he knows, from your first climax, will end you. He tried keeping his pace slow on purpose, so he can draw out all your beautiful moans and gasps and drag you further into that floating state of mind, but you’re nearly at your destination now and he so desperately needs to get out of this car before he drops his gentlemen promise and pulls over to take you right here in his truck. Unbeknownst to you, he pulls into a parking space that is completely excluded from the general population, and he leans over to bring his hand on your jaw to make you meet his eyes. 
“You look at me when I make you cum, yeah, trouble?” he asks, though it’s not much of a question. Your eyebrows furrow as you look at him and you try to answer him, but you’re feeling too good that as soon as you starts, “Anythinforyou, Jo-” your orgasm cuts you off and your mouth falls open with the most desperate and needy moans you’ve ever heard yourself make. 
He continues his movements as you let yourself fall deeper and deeper, and only until the overstimulation begins to hit you do you realize where you are. “W-when did we park..?” you groan out as he removes his finger from your spent pussy. He chuckles at your cluelessness, “Few minutes ago, sweet girl,” he says as he brings his fingers up to his mouth yet again to lap up your arousal. The action alone has your pussy clenching for something more. 
As if he can read your mind, “Later,” he smirks at you. “Let’s eat,” he adds as he gets himself out of the car and walks to your side, opening your door and guiding you out. “Thank you,” you say shyly, unable to look up at him and as you stand on your jello legs. 
✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
The restaurant he takes you to is absolutely gorgeous and lively. It’s an Italian restaurant, small and homey, and it seems like a locally owned business. It’s extremely dim, and the main sources of light are purple and red, pointing in the direction of the live music. You two are sitting in a booth in a dark corner, intimate and excluded. 
“This place is really beautiful,” you tell him with a smile that makes the butterflies in his stomach flutter. “You eat here often?”
“Y-yeah,” he stutters. Why is he nervous now when he just had you coming apart on his finger merely moments ago? Human emotion is a peculiar thing. “Actually, sorry-” he blurts. You sense his nerves, but you don’t mention it. It warms you that he’s actually nervous. It shows you he’s actively wanting more than just your lust-filled endeavors. You rest your arm along the table, your hand resting palm up near his own, offering him comfort. Silently telling him you’re nervous, too, for whatever it’s worth. He takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers with one another. You can see him physically relax. “I don’t really eat here often, but my daughter has dragged me here once or twice. The food is really fuckin’ good.” 
“I’m excited,” you squeeze his hand to reflect your excitement. You’re usually the one making the pasta or any Italian dish you’ve been craving because cooking is what you were bred to do. Cooking is the way to the heart, your nonna always taught you. No matter how traditional the sentiment was, it was one you carry with you always. Naturally, you were a bit reluctant to indulge, but the entire atmosphere here screams authentic Italian culture, reminding you of your nonna and soothing your reluctances.
You both scour the menu for a moment, but you both settled on an option fairly quickly, your waiter comes right on queue. “Ciao! Can I start us off with anything to drink?”
Too enraptured by your food options, you forgot to decide your beverage. Before you can even begin to think, Joel is already on it. “Could we get two glasses of red, your house blend, please?”
“Right away, sir, I’ll be back with those in a moment and take your order, then,” he says as he steps away. Immediately then, another individual appears with two glasses and fills them up with water while you wait. 
Joel’s focus is on the water being poured, while you’re still devouring him with your eyes. You and him never had a chance yet to talk about your backgrounds or your interests, but so far he’s doing a damn good job at dissecting you: your favorite food being Italian and your drink of choice always being red wine, and he got that, all unprompted. 
Finally, his eyes meet yours and the sultry look you’re giving him makes him immediately heat up, his red flush making its appearance again. “What?” He gives you an amused grin.
“Oh, nothing,” you say as you lean back in your bench seat, “I just- you’re really impressing me. It’s quite the turn on.” 
His expression turns from amused to aroused in seconds. “Oh?” He leans forward. “Tell me more?”
Before you can indulge, your waiter is back, placing a wine glass in front of each of you and pouring your glass a little over a third way full before he sets it down to begin taking your order. 
“What can I get started for you guys?”
You signal for Joel to go first. The look on your face screams mischief, so he doesn’t question it. He orders the filet mignon gnocchi, tonight’s special. The waiter turns to you. 
“Buonasera! Vorrei la carbonara, per favore,” (Good evening! I would like the carbonara, please) you say as you beam up at the waiter. His expression brightens tenfold as he realizes what language you just spoke to him. “Perfetto, la carbonara,” (Perfect, the carbonara) the waiter writes down, then looks between the both of you, “I’ll get these in right away.”
“Grazie,” (Thank you) you say, and you hear a small thank you coming from Joel as the waiter walks away. You and Joel meet each other’s gaze. 
“You-” he breathes. He looks really shocked. And utterly turned on. “You speak Italian?” You don’t remember when, but his hold on your hand switched to running his finger up and down your forearm. Chills fall down your spine. “Mhm,” you respond with, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible while you reach for a sip of your wine, as if you don’t know how much you just completely rocked his world. 
“Fuckin’ trouble, I tell ya,” he says under his breath as he tries to casually adjust himself under the protection of the table and the dark lighting. 
After your meals come out, the next 45 minutes are spent in easy conversation. You ask him questions that prompt responses ranging from telling you about his daughter to him being a single father to his contractor business with his younger brother, Tommy. In return, he asks you questions about your family, your best friend, and the question that’s been burning him all night, “Where the hell did you learn Italian?” 
You chuckle at his eagerness. Who knew Joel Miller would have an auralism fetish? You wonder what else could spur him on. “I can ask you the same about your Spanish,” you say as you wipe your mouth from any pasta sauce. “Throwing your words at me while you have me wrapped around your fingers, literally.” You say it so casual yet bold that it does nothing but fire him up more. His self control slips more and more with every flirty and filthy word your mouth utters. 
He clears his throat and takes a deep breath to compose himself. “Grew up bilingual,” he offers. 
Southern drawl with a Spanish tongue? Yes, please, you think to yourself. You hum in agreement. He picks up on it. “Ah, I see.”
“Not bilingual, though,” you clarify with a smirk, mainly to test out just how turned on he’ll get at the prospect of your tongue being versed in a variety of ways. 
One hand of his tightens as if he’s trying to really hold onto the string that’s keeping his self control at bay. 
You sit and think for a minute. You grew up in a mixed ethnic household, so you have a few options you could choose to reveal right now, but there’s one in particular that you know will make him snap. 
The waiter hands the bill directly to Joel. He’s writing down the tip and total as he murmurs to you, “What else do you know?” The waiter comes back and offers you both pleasantries and bids you goodnight, in Italian to you and English to Joel.
You lift your napkin up off your lap and begin to stand. He starts, but freezes as soon as you begin to speak, “Bueno,” you breathe out. “Me encantó la comida, pero tenemos que ir a la casa, ¿qué piensas?” (Well, I loved the food, but we have to go home, what do you think?) You begin to walk in the direction of the exit, but you don’t feel his warmth radiating from you, so you turn back around. He’s sitting back down at the edge of the seat. You go back to him and put your hand on his shoulder. “Joel…you okay?”
“Yep,” he says strained, “Just, uh- need a minute.” Both his hands are situated on his knees and he’s leaning over a little. Your eyes drift to in between his thighs and god damn he’s hard. Painfully hard. His bulge is so big it has you holding back a whimper at the sight of it. 
You can’t help but make this situation worse for him, it’s in your nature. So you bring your mouth down to his ear and in a low whisper, “Faster we get into the car, the faster I can take care of that for you, big boy.” 
He stands at full height now, his body completely flush and towering over you. He takes one look at you and his hands are on your waist, spinning you around and guiding you to the car without a word. 
You can feel yourself walking faster than you’ve ever done in your life, and thank Heavens you do because as soon as you reach the car, he wastes no time in turning you around and pinning you between the driver’s side door and his body.
His lips meet yours in a frenzy, it’s a clash of hot breath and tongue, and you take all of him in fervently. His tongue passes over yours in a way that has your knees buckling. He clocks it immediately and before you know it, his thick thigh is slotted between yours, nudging your core. You moan into his mouth at the pressure, and he pulls away to grab your jaw, forcing your attention onto him. “Gonna give me another one, baby?”
“Joel-” you start, but he cuts you off. “You’re gonna give me another one, right here, right on my fuckin’ thigh,” he demands, his grip on your jaw tightening with his words, “Am I understood?”
You nod your head frantically as much as his grip allows you, followed by a “Fuck, fuck, yes, Joel, yes, I understand,” and your hips start moving on their own accord. “That’s it,” he chuckles, eyes blown out in his arousal for you. One hand wraps around your waist while the other bunches the front of your dress so he can see the mess you’re creating on him. 
If anyone were to walk by right now, they would get a full view of your sobbing cunt rubbing all over his dressed thigh. It’s lewd, it’s pornographic, and it would definitely get you arrested for indecent exposure and disorderly conduct. And even though those reasons should be enough for you to stop what you’re doing and tell Joel you want to just get home first (which he’d be more than willing to oblige to for your comfort), you don’t want to. The prospect of someone walking by to witness what this hunk of a man can reduce you down to is enough to push you to the edge that much faster. 
He slightly rocks his thigh back and forth in time with the grind of your hips, the now wet fabric catching enticingly on your clit. Joel’s grip on your waist tightens, encouraging more pressure into you. He lets go of your dress to slip his fingers in between your cunt and his thigh, adding more stimulation to the bundle of nerves as he pushes himself into you to meet you in another wet kiss. His lips leave your mouth and make its way down your jaw to just below your ear, and he bites. Hard. The searing sensation mixed with everything else makes your vision go white, and you’re literally creaming all over his black dress pants. He soothes that part of your neck with more sucking and licking as your hips come to a halt, his fingers still rubbing slowly, ever so often teasing them at your entrance. 
Your full weight is leaned against his truck, and the only reason you’re still standing right now is because of his hold on you. He knows this, so keeping his one arm around your waist, he slowly pulls away from you to bend down and bring his other arm under your knees. He picks you up and cradles you to the front seat of his truck. He sets you down gently, buckles you in, and before he steps away to the driver side, he uses his pointer and thumb to nudge your chin up to his level, and he kisses you so sweetly, the butterflies in both your bellies fluttering like crazy at the feeling. “I can’t get enough of you,” he whispers. 
“Then take me home, cowboy.” 
✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
Ironically enough, your car ride back to your apartment is filled with the sweetness of each other’s presence, your main conversation of getting to know each other from dinner picking back up. The first few minutes of pulling out of the parking lot and getting onto the main road was you bringing yourself back down from your orgasmic high. You wanted to take care of Joel, so that’s what you started to do as soon as you gained your consciousness again, but he stopped you. 
“Trust me, darlin’, I want you to so fuckin’ bad,” he says as he regretfully puts your hand back on the middle console and engulfs your hand in his. “But, at least, for tonight, I need to get you off before I do.” 
You look at him even though he can’t meet your gaze. The gesture is heartwarming, you’ve never had anyone like this before. And although pleasing your partner is equally as pleasing for you, you don’t argue—but you are confused. “You did get me off, though…three times already?” 
He smirks and meets your eyes for a moment before turning back. “That was just your appetizer, baby,” he lifts your hand up to his mouth and leaves a kiss to the back of it. 
Your eyes go wide, “Oh,” you squeak out. You can’t help the giggle that escapes you, “Okay then.” 
✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
As soon as he parks, he’s out of the car in an instant, opening your door and guiding you out again. You walk up to your door, fumbling for your keys to unlock it. He’s behind you, lips hungrily kissing up and down your neck and your shoulder. As soon as you get it open, you turn around to face him, your lips smashing into his and tugging him into the house as you walk backwards towards the direction of the nearest piece of furniture possible. He kicks your door shut and swiftly locks it, his one hand only leaving you for an unnoticeable second. 
You were trying to lead him to your living room, but somehow you ended up crashing into your dining table. He doesn’t care though because his hands are grabbing at your hips, hoisting you up. He breaks the contact with your lips and you whine at the loss, but immediately he’s kneeling. Third time today, you think to yourself, could definitely get used to this view. 
“Told ya, I needed to taste you for real, sweet girl,” he says as he runs his hands up your thighs. “Spread your legs, baby.” 
You gather the front of your dress and let it pool beside you, your bottom half completely bare to him. You spread your legs and bring your hips to the very edge, your core completely at his mercy. His eyes grow completely black at the view, your wetness dripping out of you. 
He secures his hands at your hips, borderline grasping at the globes of your asscheeks, and your thighs hooked on his shoulders. He leaves warm, open-mouth kisses up your thigh, alternating between both. Once he reaches your sex, you realize there is absolutely no stopping him until he’s had his fill. Your one hand stays behind on the dining table to hold you up while the other flies to the back of his head, gripping the curls at the base of his neck. 
You’ve never felt anything like this before. His plush lips kissing every place vulnerable to you with such a velvety sensation, his tongue pushing into you and nudging areas you didn’t know a tongue could reach, and his nose—My God, his fucking nose—providing life-altering sensation directly on your clit. 
The only noises in your apartment are the sounds of his slurping mixed with your high-pitched moans and occasional dirty praise, and you’re sure your neighbors can hear you, but you’re feeling way too fucking good to even care about that right now. 
“Just like that, fuck-” your hips start grinding into his face, “-shit, you feel so fucking good, Joel, yes!” You gasp out as his rhythm changes, forcing you to the edge for the fourth time tonight. 
He pulls you in impossibly closer and shoves his face impossibly deeper, and at that moment, your orgasm crashes into you. Your arm that was holding you up gives way and you fall back into the dining table, back arching while your thighs tighten around Joel’s head. The feeling of being completely consumed by you eggs him on so much that he can’t bring himself to stop. He continues devouring you like his life depends on it, his moans and whines vibrating you deep within. You don’t know if it’s another orgasm hitting you or an aftershock from the one you just had, but all you know is that your ass is completely off the dining table and he’s holding you into his face drinking every last drop.
You use all your strength to pull yourself back up, both your arms behind you to hold you up. You try and scoot your ass back onto the table, but Joel is still gripping onto you, spoiling the entire area with slow, deep kisses. He gives extra attention on your thighs, sucking bruises that’ll flourish through the night. Loving the sensation but not loving the way your ass is hitting against the table, you softly call his name with a smile full of adoration, “Let’s take this to my room, maybe?”
He stands to his full height while scooting you back to be able to sit properly again. His smile mirrors yours. He grabs your face with both his hands and pulls you in for a kiss. It’s soft at first, but tasting yourself on him is a taste you don’t think you’ll ever tire of. Your tongue caresses his bottom lip, and he opens, pulling you in, his tongue embracing yours in an all-consuming dance. 
Your hands begin to roam at his sides, making your way to the buttons of his dress shirt, and it’s then that he pulls away, remembering the question you asked. “Wait, wait,” he says. He opens your legs a little more so he can step in between. His hands are underneath you once again, and he nudges you forward, wordlessly telling you to wrap your legs around his waist. So you do, and he picks up, chuckling at the squeal you let out when your body reaches the air, and he leads you to your bedroom. 
He lets you plop onto the edge of the bed and get yourself situated in the center. He finishes what you started and starts undressing himself. His shirt is the first to go, unbuttoning, untucking, and letting it fall to a random place on your floor. Looking down at you ready for him, he takes a step closer, unbuckling his belt, pulling them out of the loops, letting it follow the same path as his shirt. 
He’s been catching the way you’ve been admiring all day, so he indulges in your fantasy a little in the way he undresses himself for you. With every article that gets removed, he watches your eyes grow hungrier, your breathing heavier. You’re too occupied at the sight of his body, you don’t make any move to pull your dress off, but that’s okay. Joel wants to be the one to unwrap his dessert. 
Joel removes his pants and boxers in one go, and you let out an involuntary gasp at the sight in front of you. He is fucking huge. His length isn’t overbearing, but it’s his fucking girth that’s throwing you in for a loop. Your anxiety starts to rise a little; you have never been with a man as well-endowed as Joel and no strap-on you’ve taken could ever resemble what you’re about to take right now. 
You fell into your overthinking, not realizing that Joel has made his way over you. He grounds you with a kiss, stealing all your worries. He grazes his finger over your forehead, pushing a hair away. The action makes you melt. Oh, there goes the butterflies, again. He guides your head to angle down to kiss your forehead, then your nose, and back to your lips once more. He makes sure your eyes are on each other before he says, “We do not have to do anything more if you are not ready, sweet girl.” 
He’s been pretty dominating all night, which you don’t mind at all, but this coming out of his mouth at the fire of your anxieties completely distinguishes them. You know you’re safe with him. Your eyes tear up and before you speak, you snake your hand to the back of his neck and yank him into you for another kiss. As he pulls away, a tear falls, but his thumb catches it. 
“I trust you, Joel, I need you,” you say as you lean into the warmth of his hand, “Please.” 
“Sit up for me real quick then, darlin’,” he says, sitting back on his haunches and pulling you up with him. His hands find the hem of your silky dress, and he slowly guides it up your thighs, up your torso, and you lift your arms off so he can guide it off completely. Now it’s his turn to admire. It’s as if his eyes don’t know where to look first: at your luscious thighs, your beautiful tummy, your full chest. “You’re so perfect,” he whispers, not meant for you to really hear, but it makes you flutter all the same. 
“Lay down for me, baby,” he says as he continues admiring you. You lay back down again, reaching your arm up to drag the pillow below your head. You spread your legs, inviting him in, letting him know you’re ready. But what he does next absolutely surprises you. He grabs your leg at the ankle and lays kisses everywhere. Up your calf, the bend of your knee, all around your thigh in the areas he marked earlier. He reaches your mound and makes no move to dive in. Instead, he lays kisses in the area, even a kiss is placed directly on your clit. You moan at the feeling. He mirrors his actions on your other leg. Then, he bends forward and begins kissing your tummy. Kisses in the general vicinity of your belly button, your ribs, making his way up your sternum. 
Granted, your body is buzzing in arousal right now, and you’re making a puddle in your sheets, but mentally, the way he is appreciating your body has you feeling utterly content. 
Your hand finds its home again in his neck just as Joel reaches your breasts. He continues his journey and kisses all around, his tongue swirling around your nipples. Your back arches at this, and you feel him smile against you as his hands wrap around your ribs, his thumbs caressing underneath your boobs. His mouth makes its way to your neck.
His mouth transitions to longer, wetter kisses, leaving trails of spit on the valley of your breasts and on your neck. The cooling of his spit coaxes a whimper out of you, wanting more of him. Wanting to drink him. His mouth finally meets yours and it’s slow but desperate, your hips lifting to meet his at an attempt for any kind of relief. His tongue massages yours and you can feel the spit build up; you eagerly try and lap it up. 
You pull him away for a moment, slightly bashful to ask, but you need it so bad. “C-can you…” your gaze slips from his. His hand on your rib comes up to rest on the lower part of your neck, his fingertips grazing your jaw but also softly guiding you to look at him again. His eyebrow quirks up at you. Go on, he’s telling you. “Can you, uh- I-” you completely fumble. “Words, trouble,” he smirks, the nickname eliciting a sense of comfort within you. 
“Canyouspitinmymouth, please?” You rush out with your eyes clamped shut, scared of what his reaction would be. He doesn’t say a thing, waiting for you to come to your senses and open your eyes. As soon as you do, he’s on you again, kissing you like before you pulled away to ask your question. Except this time, his fingertips secure themselves on the hinge of your jaw and nudge you open. Your lips but a whisper apart, his spit falling into your mouth, as your tongues’ tips dance around one another. 
The moans you let out for him are sounds he never wants to give up. He’ll let you drink him dry if this is what he hears in his last breaths. 
He pulls away, a spit string connecting you both. You lean forward, attaching to his bottom lip for a moment more before you let yourself pull away, then you swallow.
“Fuck, that was so hot,” you breathily giggle. He smirks at your antics, leaning in for another kiss to distract you. He reaches for another pillow above your head, and as your kiss becomes more heated, you grind your hips up into him, giving him perfect timing to slot the pillow underneath your lower back. 
You pull back, “Wha-” you start to question, but he’s quick to respond. He sits back up for a sec, “It’ll help,” he says, and he brings both your legs into a bent position, like frog legs, in a way. Your confusion immediately fades as you physically feel your pelvic floor open up. Oh. 
“I thought you were a contractor, not a chiropractor?” you tease. 
“Watch it,” he warns. “You know, I could just,” his fingers graze your glistening entrance, “force it in,” he slips a finger in, slowly. You gasp, teasing demeanor gone in an instant. “No preppin’ this tight little thing,” he pulls his finger completely out, you whine in response. “How ‘bout that?” 
A barely audible please escapes your mouth, unsure of what it is you’re begging for, and you feel your pussy clench at his words. 
His eyes darken, “Oh, she likes that idea, huh?” He’s leaning over you now, kissing your jaw and neck as he grabs himself by the base and lines his tip up to your warmth. “Maybe next time. Right now, trouble, I’m takin’ my damn time with you.” 
He grabs himself by the base and guides himself to your entrance, his other hand at the side of your head. He lets his cock grind against your wet folds for a few moments, covering himself in your earlier climax, and then his tip catches at your entrance. You both let out a sharp gasp at the sensation, and he slowly starts pushing in. 
“Oh, fuck,” you let out.
“So fuckin’ tight,” he whimpers, “so fuckin’ good, fuck.”
Your pussy clenches at his tone of desperation, and his one arm moves to situate underneath the curve of your back, accentuating it. He’s halfway in you and the painful yet pleasing stretch of your pussy has you closing your eyes at the sensation. 
“Baby, eyes on me, need t’see you,” he says, reaching down to nip your bottom lip. Your eyes shoot open and your brows furrow, your pouty face doing nothing to ease his yearn of just pushing completely in you with no remorse. 
Finally he bottoms out, both your hips flush with one another, and being completely engulfed in you like this, he can’t hold out any longer. “Look, doll,” he rasps. His hand beside you snakes underneath your head and he’s lifting it for you to look down. “It’s like you’re made f’me, huh?” He says as he begins to pull out of you until only the tip is in. 
Your eyes are fixed on the sight below you. Your pussy absolutely stretched out, his dick completely covered in your juices. You don’t have the mental capacity to form anything coherent. Joel knows that, so giving you no time to acknowledge his filthy words, he pushes inside you again. This time much faster and much harder. 
He continues that rough and fast pace for a while, kissing and biting everywhere his mouth can reach, relishing in the constant moans and whimpers spewing from your mouth. 
“S-so big,” your voice quivers. 
“But you’re takin’ it so well, sweet girl,” he replies, voice husky and strained. He sits up a little to stand on his knees, his pace faltering momentarily. His arm from your waist moves down to the underside of the bend on your knee. He pushes your leg higher, opens you up more. The angle makes you flutter around his cock, and he can’t help but speed up. 
“Fuck,” he grits out, “not gonna last with that, sweetheart.”
His hand beside your head moves to rest at the base of your neck, his fingers splayed wide across you, giving him more leverage to rock in and out of you. You feel your body wanting to arch up into him, but the hold he has on you and the angle you’re in gives him complete control over you. The thought brings you higher, and you can’t help what spills from your mouth next. 
“‘S okay, Joel, p-please,” you moan, “Use me, use my pussy, daddy.” 
His hand trails a little higher and now he’s completely wrapped around your neck, his thrusts sloppy, but harder than you’ve ever felt before. “Say that again, sweetheart?” he rushes, hurtling towards his release. 
You let both your hands come up to grab ahold of the hand wrapped around your throat. You pulse your grip, hinting at him to squeeze. He gets it, and within seconds, his fingers are right on your pulse points, applying pressure and giving you a yummy dizziness. 
Your breath hitches and your voice picks up in pitch, “U-use me, daddy, I want your cum, please.” His other hand reaches for your clit. You gasp out. Immediately then, a lightbulb turns on in your mind, and a dazed smile forms across your face.
“Yeah, baby, that what you want?” he says as his ministrations on your clit picks up, his cock kissing that sweet spot inside of you, over and over again. “Wanna be pumped full of daddy’s cum?”
“Ay, dámelo, papi, dámelo.”
It’s as if you two were really standing on an edge of a cliff, and you pushed him off with just your words. He roars out an addictive moan, and his release coats your walls. The warmth flooding in you and the pulse of his cock mixed with his fingers still circling, and you’re getting pushed off the cliff with him. His fingers begin to slow, and he’s letting go of your throat. He leans back over you to meet your lips, and you take him in. Quite sloppily, though, you’re doing the best you can with the feeling of his hips still slowly rocking into you, the overstimulation milking both of you for all that you’re worth. 
You both stay like that for a few minutes longer, basking in the softness of him on your lips, inside you. 
But then immediately he pulls away — and pulls out. You both hiss at the feeling. 
“Shit! Fuck, I’m sorry-” he starts blabbering, but you cut him off with a finger on his lips. 
“Hey, hey, hey, breathe,” you say as you take a deep breath for him to mirror, “What’s going on?”
He takes a deep breath and repeats himself, calmer this time. “I’m sorry, I didn’t ask where you wanted-” he gestures to his cum beautifully dripping from your entrance, “I know how risky that was- and we didn’t even use protection, I-” his panic starting to rise again. 
You put your hand on his sternum and put a little pressure, figuring if your anxiety sits there, it’s worth a shot to see if that’s where his sits, too. It does. He looks down at your hand and back up at you, kind of shocked but not more than the situation at hand to question how you know that would help.
“A few things,” you say as you keep your hand on him. “One, I never stopped you, we both took the risks. Two, luckily enough for the both of us, I’m on the pill.” He smiles at that. “And three, even if I wasn’t on the pill” you continue, “I wouldn’t mind picking up a Plan B if it meant I got to feel you like that inside of me again…” your voice trails off and immediately he pulls your hand away from his front up to his mouth to press several kisses on your palm, bursting in lighthearted laughter, his anxiety fading away. 
✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
You and Joel laid in bed, tangled up in each other, for a little while longer, but he could sense the mess started to make you a little uncomfortable. He pulled both you and him off your bed, guiding you with his hands on your hips but ultimately letting you take the lead to your bathroom. 
He guides you to your toilet and starts scouring your bathroom to find your washcloths. Once he does, he soaks it in warm water, and falls down to your level, so he can clean you. You reach out to grab the washcloth, thinking you’re gonna be the one doing it, but he’s quick to swat your hand away with a smile. He asks softly, “May I?” 
Your eyes meet his, and all you can see is a genuine softness and a genuine yearn to take care of you. It makes you breathless. “Yeah,” you return his softness.
Being the pretty kinky and adventurous person that you were, aftercare always existed for you. Albeit, some of your past partners were more tender than others, but none of them treated you in a way that made you feel like you two were endgame. There’s something about Joel and the way he can be so soft, warm, and appreciative. He’s so experienced and considerate that you know he’s probably had his fair share of lovers in his past, but the way he treats you makes you feel like everything back then was solely leading him to this very moment. Like he spent years searching, and now that he’s found you, he needs to make sure what’s his is truly being taken care of in the way it deserves. 
The thought and his actions should scare you, but they don’t. 
There are people who spend years dating each other, still trying to figure out if they’re meant to be. There are married couples filing for divorce because they learned that they weren’t for each other after all. 
There are others who get married after six months because they just know. Then, there’s you and Joel. Obviously you’re not going to marry him tomorrow but as you sit here, letting him care for you in such a way you’ve never felt before, you feel it. The rightness. The belonging. He’s gonna be in your life for a long, long time, and one of the most important people in your life at that. You don’t say any of this, though. You can’t. It’s too soon. 
So, for now, you’ll just let your actions speak louder than words, and show him just how much you need him in your life. 
“I’m cooking for us next time,” you say, pulling Joel from his own thoughts.
“Okay,” he says without a second thought. Unbeknownst to you, he was thinking the exact same thing as you. 
He feels it, too, and just like you, for now, he’ll let his actions speak louder than his words. 
He reaches over and plops the washcloth into the sink, his eyes on you. 
“Only if we christen the dining table before dinner.”
Your eyes widen and your cheeks go hot. 
Yeah, you are absolutely fucked. And so is he. 
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I hope you guys enjoyed!🥹 As always, feedback, comments, reblogs, etc. is extremely appreciated! Thank you to every single one of you for welcoming me with open, loving arms. I'm giving all of you forehead smooches right now. I love you all. So much.
EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!
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striveattemptfail · 10 months
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in prime earth canon, jason todd (NOT red hood) was* publicly known to be alive
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red hood: outlaw (2018) #32 (ID in alt text)
considering that jason todd was the official owner of the iceberg lounge during this time, it's likely he acquired the lounge legally and thus can be inferred that he had to be declared legally alive to do so
which brings me to my point:
i've seen a lot of people writing/speculating the difficulties and limitations jason experiences bc he was declared legally dead after ethiopia, which is all well and good, and is fantastic fodder for angst
but i've been wondering if this was bc people are actively ignoring canon (valid) or simply didn't know that at one point* jason was publicly alive (also valid, bc following comics is a shitshow lol)
please reblog to increase visibility! the whole point of this poll is to gauge how many people know this, so i'd love to see this post reach as many people as possible. thank you~! 😅🙏
(* big disclaimer under the cut!)
note: all of this info is as of may 2023. i am only one human so it's impossible for me to read every comic jason has been in since rhato (2016) and remember every single thing that happened. if anything i said above the cut is incorrect now, i apologize! /o\
for reference, as of creating this poll i've read:
red hood and the outlaws (2016) #1-26
red hood: outlaw (2018) #27-52
task force z (2021) #1-12
batman: urban legends (2021) #1-6 – cheer pt.1-6
the joker: the man who stopped laughing (2022) #3-5
i haven't read a lot of other important runs like death metal (2020), three jokers (2020), robins (2021), etc. if jason (NOT red hood) was declared dead once again in any of those, that is the reason why i used "was" in the very first sentence of this post and reiterate that he was alive at least for a limited period
my bad that i missed his second legal death tho LOLLL
i'm also aware that red hood (NOT jason) was known as "dead" by others after task force z (even though he clearly didn't die). that said, in the little i've read of tj:tmwsl, it seems that 1) not everyone knows red hood is actually alive, and/or that 2) red hood died at all. again, if red hood is generally known to be alive after tfz, that's on me
if there's anything else i've missed, let me know!! i'll update/reblog this post for as long as the poll is up (-u-)b
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ghost-proofbaby · 1 year
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up in flames (steddie x fem!reader)
→ summary: when steve and eddie don't pay you enough attention one morning, you decide that today's a good day to be a brat.
→ warnings: strong language, threesome, oral smut (both f! and m! receiving), face fucking, smut (good old fashioned p in v), dom!steve, dom!eddie, breeding kink, unprotected sex, spanking, name calling (brat, slut, etc), mean!steddie, hair-pulling, mentions of spitting, edging, lots and lots of teasing, voyeurism (public teasing), cream pies, use of 'sir', polaroids taken of mentioned cream pies, overuse of nicknames (y'all should know me by now) MINORS DNI. 18+.
→ wc: 9.4k+
→ a/n: oh jesus. okay. so, first of all, shout out to @myosotisa for encouraging this catastrophe. second of all, i am not completely positive that that entire paragraph covers everything so if you find i missed something, please tell me! fair warning that this is the filthiest thing i have ever written, the longest smut i've ever indulged in, and that i've never written threesome. it's also not edited. any mistakes are between y'all, steddie, reader, and god. not me. my apologies if this is bad. this was just... incredibly self indulgent lol.
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You’d brought it upon yourself, really. 
It started that morning. You’d asked for ten more minutes with them, but they both had work and knew that ‘ten more minutes’ was never just ten minutes. So Steve got up and made breakfast, Eddie went to take a shower. You’d pouted like a child but nonetheless joined them at the table. 
And maybe it wasn’t all your fault, because Steve had made pancakes. That was his first mistake, and Eddie is the one who you attempt to make pay for it. 
Somewhere between morning softness fading and orange juice kisses, you’d gotten a swipe of syrup on your thumb. You play it up innocently at first, kitten-licking the sticky sweetness on your skin.  Both Eddie and Steve had ignored any gentle kicks of your sock clad foot, not a single reaction when you’d press your toes into their calves beneath the table in a silent plea of pay attention to me, please. Neither man pays any mind to you, too engrossed in discussing what movie they might want to watch after work later that night, you take it a step further, letting your lips wrap around your entire thumb. Steve takes another bite of pancake, but he’s none-the-wiser. Fine. It was fine, because Eddie was the one sitting directly across from you, so you focused your efforts on him. 
He always broke easier than Steve anyways. 
Your toes press into his calf again, more harshly this time. 
“I’m not watching fucking Empire Strikes Back again Ste-” he cuts off midsentence at your prodding, fork in the middle of digging into his pancakes. Steve was too busy gathering both yours and his dirty plates to notice. 
Once Eddie’s eyes are on your mouth, you up the ante. The pad of your thumb presses down on your tongue as you slip your lips past the knuckle, hollowing your cheeks as you suck hard on your appendix before you slowly drag it out and make a point of tugging down on your bottom lip. You witness his pupil dilating in real time, entranced as your foot begins to trail higher up his leg. His chest heaves, and you know he’s recalling the moment from a few nights before, when you’d given him the same half-lidded eyes as the tip of him had hit the back of your throat and you gagged around him, teary eyed but eager to please him. 
The clashing of dishes being set into the sink seems to break whatever spell you nearly had him under, just as your foot reaches his thigh. 
He smacks your foot away, blinking quickly before a cruel grin takes over his face, “Cute.” 
“What was that?” Steve calls from the kitchen, completely oblivious to the stare down currently occurring in your dining room. 
Eddie raises his eyebrows, daring you to say something as you scowl, sitting up straight once more at his rejection. 
“Nothin’!” he calls out, deliberately slow as he pushes his chair out and stands from the table, plate in hand. His steps are heavy as he rounds the table to where you sit with your arms crossed, eyes set forward, not bothering to spare him a glance. You were acting like a child, and you couldn’t find it within yourself to care. You were hot, you were bothered, and you were about to spend the day doomed to being riled up without reprieve.
As he passes you on his way to Steve and the kitchen, he leans down, voice low as he whispers into your ear, “Behave, sweetheart.” 
You nearly scoff, but won’t give him the satisfaction. 
Behave. As if you would do anything along those lines today. 
The next mistake is made when Steve accepts your offer to bring him lunch to Family Video during his shift. 
It was actually fairly empty for a Wednesday. When you enter the video store, there’s only one other customer perusing the aisles, Steve nowhere to be found as Robin greets you from the front counter. You send a small wave in her direction, lifting the bag you’d packed Steve’s lunch away into up as you passed her on your way to the backroom. 
You were still frustrated. Terribly so. The few hours the boys had been out of the apartment, you’d tried to soothe the ache. You even went as far as to bring out one of your neglected vibrators. But the batteries were worn and nearing their end, and you couldn’t find where the boys had stashed away the new ones, so you’d ended up a petulant mess in the center of the king bed. You’d all but kicked out your legs and thrown fists into the down comforter you’d settled into the center of when the toy’s buzzing finally faded to near-nothing just as you’d felt yourself teeter on the edge of release. 
It was at that moment you decided you would not be the only one suffering today. 
Steve isn’t in the backroom, or the bathroom you check. You give up calling out his name after the third time before finally setting the bag onto the employee’s table and venturing back out into the front of the store. Robin was no longer at the counter, at one of the endcaps helping the only other customer, completely occupied. 
That’s when you hear him, a muffled curse and sound of a few movies dropping in one of the back aisles. Your feet carry you towards the sound quickly, light on your feet as you sneak around a corner to find Steve glaring down at a stack of movies that had fallen off the shelves. 
“I don’t think your Jedi mind trick is working,” you quip to make your presence known to him, taking slow and calculated steps towards him, “‘Fraid those wrinkles make become permanent if you keep staring at them like that, my love.” 
Brown eyes flicker up to you, framed by dark lashes as the frown lines smooth out.
“Haha,” Steve deadpans as you stand in front of him, “Very funny.”
You keep up a demure act by pecking him on his lips in greeting, feeling the corners of his lips pull upwards.
“Oh, c’mon, you call that a hello kiss?” he whispers before he reaches out and settles an insistent hand on your waist, tugging you back in as he chases your lips with his own. His kiss is deeper, leaving more to be desired as it still remains fairly chaste. 
Just the simple capture of your bottom lip between his has your eyes fluttering shut, a sigh escaping you. 
You still make sure to pull away first, remembering the burn in your abdomen that had begun burning this morning, that had yet to be satiated, “Better?” 
“Much,” he grins, eyes glancing down at your outfit, his hand traveling from your waist to the hem of the short sundress, “This is cute.” 
Cute. The same demeaning word that Eddie had used on you that morning, the same dismissive tone as Steve rubs the thin fabric between his fingertips. 
You had deliberately worn one of Steve’s favorite dresses on you. You had deliberately forgotten a bra. 
You had deliberately gone without underwear. 
“Cute?” you hum, scrunching your eyebrows, “Last time I wore this dress, if I recall correctly, you called me downright sinful-”
You cut off when you see that flash in his eyes, the same dilation of pupils, the same sudden heavy breathing you had witnessed in Eddie that morning. He was clearly recalling the last time you’d worn the dress – the way he’d bent you over the bed before ripping off your lace number underneath that night, coming in you until you were leaking him across the mattress, the way he’d taken polaroids of your abused pussy to share with Eddie when he had returned from his weekend trip. 
Maybe Steve was just as easy to break as Eddie. 
“Don’t,” he softly warns, voice husk and low. The fingers playing with the hem of the dress let go of it immediately, knuckles brushing your bare thigh. 
“What?” you play it off nonchalantly, “I was just reminding you of-” 
“Baby,” he’s practically begging you now. Big, brown eyes pleading before he glances over your shoulder, trying to gauge how far away Robin and the customer were currently from the two of you. 
You bring your hand up to his chest, stepping forward and letting his hand now curl around the back of your thigh. You fiddle with the name tag on his work vest, “D’you think Eddie still has those photos? Maybe I should go home and take some new ones.” 
It’s the final straw. You’ve pushed him farther than you did Eddie this morning, and the hand once delicately gripping your thigh is now on your neck, gripping your jaw firmly as he leans down to breathe into your ear. 
“No, you shouldn’t,” his lips brush over the shell of your ear as your head begins to lull back, only making him tighten his grip as he keeps you pressed closely to him, “What you should do is go home and behave yourself.” 
There it is again. That word, behave. A command, an order, a spillage of gasoline across your fire. 
You light up at his words. 
“Who’s going to stop me? Certainly not you. And certainly not Eddie.” 
He lets go immediately, and takes several steps back. All contact between the two of you is lost. If you weren’t so irritated, so consumed by pent up desire, you might have whined. You might have reached back out or followed his steps back. With the distance, he looks down and can see your nipples straining against the chest of the dress.
His jaw locks, “I’ll call him.” 
You wield the hammer proudly as you pound the final nail into your coffin, “Do it.” 
You spin on your heel, leaving Family Video, with absolutely no intention of behaving. 
You stop at the store on your way home. Which, to be fair, is your first mistake. 
It doesn’t truly take that long to find the package of double A batteries, but even once they’re in your cart, you find yourself walking a few laps around the store to attempt to settle your racing heart and increasing ache. But even by the third lap, even as you get several curious glances from store employees and your thighs begin to ache from how quickly you’ve been walking circles, the pent-up energy persists. 
You don’t care. You’re now better equipped, and you know where Steve keeps the polaroid camera and film at home. 
But when you arrive at the apartment, plastic bag dangling loosely from your wrist, you completely miss the fact that Eddie’s van and Steve’s BMW are back in their respective parking spots. It doesn’t cross your mind that your boys might be home as you climb the stairs, as you fumble with your keys, as you shut the front door behind you with your hip. 
They were smart about it. They left all the lights out except one. 
You blindly fumble through the dark apartment, path set on the bedroom above all else. In your mind, you only had a few hours before they’d get home. The pressure of the time constraint was nearly anxiety-inducing until you stopped in the middle of the hallway, and immediately noticed the bedroom light is on. You rack your brain to try and remember if you’d left that light on, or if your hand had simply missed when you’d shot it out to flick the switch off your way out earlier. 
Neither. It was neither scenario, and you realize it as you stand in the doorway and are met with an unexpected sight. 
Steve is standing by the edge of the bed, arms crossed and face flat as he stares at you. He had been clearly awaiting your entrance. And his presence isn’t the one that strikes any regret or fear in your gut – that anticipation, the oh I fucked up moment, only arrives when you look to the bed and find Eddie sitting on the edge. He’s cleaned up already from the auto shop, arms and hands scrubbed of any grease. His work boots are still laced on his feet, coveralls have discarded to his waist and sleeves tied in a knot. 
It’s not just his presence that startles you. It’s your second mistake that stares you straight in the face; Eddie is casually holding your vibrator, turning it over between his palms, not even glancing up at your entrance. 
“You two are home early,” you squeak, and internally scorn yourself for the breaking in your tone. 
Steve’s still upset about your visit to him at work. Plainly written across his face, he doesn’t even try to hide his displeasure that shines through as he glares at you. 
“We are,” Eddie agrees, and a chill runs up your spine – his tone is airy, casual, light. And he looks anything but. “Wanted to surprise you, sweetheart. So you can imagine our disappointment when we came home to this-” he pauses and finally looks up at you, holding up the vibrator in a grandiose gesture, “-left out on the bed. Care to explain?” 
He phrases it like a question. It’s not a question – it’s an opportunity to convince them to go easy on you. 
A mutual mistake is made at that moment, on Eddie’s part and yours. He assumes you want a gentle night of affection and undivided attention – the fire in you wants anything but those things. The fire in you is seeking out bruises, marks that litter you for days, for the two men to reduce you to nothing more than a goddamn toy, just like the one that Eddie held in his hands. 
“I had an issue,” you reply snarkily, sitting the bag down onto the ground now, “I took care of it. Any questions?” 
Eddie’s fiddling with the toy immediately stops. You watch the way his palm cradles the sky blue silicone. You hadn’t even cleaned it after the failed usage; you’d assumed you’d be home before them, get right back into it and not be risking them finding it first. 
“Oh,” Eddie’s lips split into a daunting grin, “I think I have a few, sweetheart.” 
Steve hasn’t moved an inch, and continues to resemble a statue as Eddie stands up. He tosses the vibrator back to the center of the bed before he leans down and unlaces his boots. The seconds drag on as he takes his sweet time. 
“What’s in the bag?” Steve breaks his silence in an even tone, each syllable impossibly stern. 
You look down at the discarded plastic, the edge of the battery packaging peaking out. You shrug, “Batteries.”
“For what?”
“For my rocketship to Mars,” you snap sarcastically. His eyes darken and the downturn of his lips deepen. Eddie finishes unlacing his boots and slips them off, “The vibrator, of course. What else would I need them for?” 
“Did you use it on yourself? The vibrator?” Eddie is maintaining a faux relaxed cadence. If you weren’t paying close attention to his words, or his actions, you’d assume he was simply asking you about your day. 
You swallow hard. The first crack in your facade, “I sure as Hell tried.” 
Eddie stands back up to his full height, kicking his boots out of the way. He doesn’t look at you this time – he looks at Steve, “You hear that, Stevie? She tried.”
You meet Steve’s gaze with your chin held high. Resilience, defiance, contumacy. It all seeps from you in waves. Your way of saying that the teasing wasn’t going to be enough, not this time. 
Steve’s arms drop from his chest, “Tried,” he echoes Eddie, taking a step forward, making the flames lick up to your sternum, “Pathetic. Can’t even break the rules properly.” 
He’s as stubborn as you are in the eye contact. Prideful, commanding, authoritative. His waves meet yours with ease, nearly enough to reach your fire, nearly enough to attempt to put out the flames. 
But he doesn’t. As he and Eddie stand side by side, glowering at you with matching expressions, it only fans the flames. Only makes you burn brighter, ache worsening with each passing second. 
“It’s a shame,” Eddie taunts, “All that trouble you went through, and you won’t even be cumming tonight.” 
You smirk as you reach down and finally grab the batteries from the bedroom floor, “Oh? I won’t? That’s odd, because I actually had some pretty big plans with me, that toy, and these batter-”
You don’t have time to react before Eddie has crossed the room and snatched the package from your hands effortlessly. 
“I’ll take those. Thank you, doll.” 
He turns his back on you and Steve continues to watch you, watching your facade crumbling right before his eyes. Eddie wastes no time in tearing open the batteries before he grabs the vibrator, working open the compartment and shaking out the old ones only to be replaced with new ones. 
“Strip,” Eddie commands with his back still turned to you. The smirk on your face has long since fallen, completely fading as your eyes widen. When he hears no movement from you, he tsked, “Do you need to be told twice, sweetheart?” 
Steve’s anger, his indifference, has vanished along with your smirk. He raises one eyebrow in a challenge, a silent question of if you were willing to disobey them now that they were both here. 
“No, sir,” you secede through gritted teeth. They’re not stupid – they can still feel the heat from your blaze, even as you follow instructions. Even as you behave.
Eddie doesn’t watch you, but Steve does. His eyes never leave you, following your hands as you reach down to the hem of your dress. It’s at this moment that you remember your choices from earlier – no bra, no underwear. You don’t have to catch Steve’s expression once you lift the dress off your body to know he’s swirling with disbelief and frustration immediately.
“Where the fuck is your underwear?” he demands, breaking completely. Eddie has placed the backing on the compartment, and hardly has time to turn and face the two of you before Steve is in front of you, toe-to-toe with you as you bite back a smile.
“I forgot,” you lie entirely too smugly. 
“Forgot?” Steve scoffs, jaw flexing as his eyes trail down your neck, your collarbones, your peaked nipples. They glide a path all the way down your torso until they land on your exposed heat and the way you try to subtly squeeze your thighs together. “Bed, now.” 
“I don’t recall Eddie telling me to-”
“Listen to him, sweetheart,” Eddie chides, effectively interrupting you, “I think you’ll find Stevie isn’t in a very giving mood tonight. Best to not press your luck.”
To both men’s astonishment, you listen. A flip switches at the mention of giving, at the promise of satiation to come. Within seconds, you’re laying on the bed as Eddie sidesteps, still clutching your blue vibrator. 
“Flip over,” Steve demands, hand fiddling with his belt buckle as he approaches you. 
You do as he asks of you, rolling onto your stomach, turning your cheek to continue to watch him fully remove his belt now. Your thighs press together harder now, watching a moment of pensive thought cross his face as he looks down at the belt in his grasp. 
When he tosses it to the side, letting it hit the bedroom floor with a harsh thud, you count your lucky stars. 
“Since you seemed so fond of remembering them earlier today,” Steve muses, his bare hand tracing over the exposed skin of your back, down your spine until his fingertips dance over the swell of your nude ass, “How many polaroids did we take for Eddie that weekend?” 
He doesn’t need to elaborate what he’s referring to. You can’t see Eddie, but you hear him choke on a breath. 
“Five,” you respond as your hands fist the comforter beneath you, heart beginning to pound from anticipation. 
“Hm,” Steve fakes thoughtfulness, and you can see him turn his head in Eddie’s direction, “Five? Does that sound about right to you, Eds?” 
Eddie must have been nodding, not verbally responding until he caught on that Steve wanted him to answer him out loud, “Jesus Christ,” he mutters under his breath, “Y-Yeah. Fuck, yeah, it was five polaroids. Still got ‘em in my bedside drawer.” 
Steve’s attention is back on yours in an instinct, hand retracting, “Here’s what’s going to happen, doll. Five polaroids, five hits. You’re going to count out loud. Do you understand?” 
You’re as speechless as Eddie had been; you’ve never managed to get Steve this riled up. The roles were usually reversed – usually, it was Eddie being domineering, Eddie being cruel and reveling in your squirming. 
“Answer me.”
You remember his hesitation with the belt – this time, you don’t hold back in blurting out, “I understand.” 
“Good,” his warm touch returns to you, this time on the bend of your knee, trailing its way up to the back of your thigh, “Color?” 
An ache pangs through your core, ringing out through the hollow of every bone in your body, “Green.” 
There’s no more pause or teasing. Once the word is spoken, Steve’s hand is pulled back before coming down on your ass, the smack riveting off the walls of the bedroom. You can’t help the gasp that leaves you, feeling the hit straight in your center. For a moment, you can’t think straight, thoughts blurring together and disappearing into thin air. 
“That’s odd,” you barely register the lifting of the pressure of Steve’s hand, “I could have swore I told her to count. Did I not tell her to count?” 
“You did,” Eddie is no longer stuttering as he walks around Steve, entering your field of vision as he crouches beside the bed, leveling his head with yours, “She must not want to cum badly enough.”
There’s a spark in Eddie’s eyes you recognize, that you’re familiar with. This is how it normally is – Eddie, belittling you before completely wrecking you, all while wearing a boyish and an air of casualty. 
“Don’t you want to be a good girl for Stevie?” Eddie taunts you with a whisper, as if Steve couldn’t clearly overhear his words. 
“I do,” you sigh out, eyes glossy, “I do.” 
“Then count,” he instructs while keeping his voice hushed. His grin falls ever so slightly, gaze hardening before he looks up to Steve and says in a normal voice, “Start over. She’ll count this time.” 
Steve’s hand pulls back before landing another hard smack to you, this one stinging even more than the first time. 
This time, as you gasp, you manage to let out a strangled, “One.” 
He alternates sides. After each slap, you continue to count, voice growing higher in pitch each time, whines slipping out as you feel yourself grow wetter. 
You don’t notice the stray tears leaking out of your eyes, falling to the comforter and forming a dark spot, until Eddie reaches out his thumb to swipe them away before the final spank. 
“Look at you,” Eddie coos, “You’re a fucking mess, sweetheart, and we’re just getting started.” 
Steve doesn’t land the final smack yet, instead choosing to smooth his palms over your reddening skin, massaging gently. Eddie’s freehand disappears from the edge of the bed, and even in your mind’s haze, you immediately know he’s palming himself for brief relief by the way he tucks his bottom lip between his teeth. 
“Color?” Steve calls out once more, leaning down over you, letting his lips brush at the small of your back. An uneven line of kisses are placed all the way down to your sore ass. Your breathing stutters at the softness, a startling contrast to his palm. 
“Still green,” you croak, making Eddie fight back a wide grin as his eyes flutter shut. 
You go to shift your hips, seeking out your own relief, but Steve is quick to press his palm over your lower back, pinning you down to the mattress with minimal pressure, “Nuh uh, doll. I’m not done with you yet. One more.”
“Think you can do one more?” Eddie murmurs, the taunting edge still in his cadence. 
You only nod. In any other scenario, the two boys would demand you use your words, but the movement appeases them tonight. 
The final blow is no less searing than the first, Steve using just as much force against the cheek he’d originally begun with. You almost forget to whimper out the count of ‘five’ until Eddie’s tapping your cheek gently. 
“Five,” you say as loudly as you can muster, opening your eyes that you hadn’t realized had closed. 
Eddie is staring intently at you, all teasing demeanor having temporarily lifted, “And you’re sure your color is green?” 
You can’t help but laugh at his genuine concern, the way his eyes manage to go soft even with his pupils so blown out. Steve is back to pressing kisses up your spine, carefully avoiding your backend now. 
“‘M sure,” you promise him, words slightly muffled by the way your mouth is partially pressed into the mattress, “Look at you two. Going all soft on me.” 
Eddie’s mouth quirks up immediately, reassured you’re fine.
“It’s just been a while,” Steve offers as his lips reach the nape of your neck, hands spreading over the back of your shoulders, “Munson’s gone too easy on you lately, hasn’t he?” 
Eddie throws his head back in laughter at that, “Oh, yeah. I have, haven’t I?” that mocking tone twists your gut, a reminder that they’ve yet to extinguish the fire you’ve been burning with the entire day, “Got so soft on you that Harrington had to get mean.” 
“You’ve both been mean,” you argue back, becoming restless once more. You hardly pay any mind to the throbbing of where Steve had just punished you, “All I wanted this morning was ten more minutes, and you both ignored me.” 
Steve’s off of you fairly quickly as Eddie’s expression slowly morphs into something more carnal. 
“All this attitude… because you didn’t get your way?” he slowly enunciates each word, rising slowly from his crouch as his eyes never leave you. He lets out a soft tut, “Flip her over for me, Stevie. I think I need to remind her of just how mean we can actually be.” 
Before Eddie fully steps away from the bed, he grabs a pillow to pass to Steve. No words are exchanged between them as Steve manages to rearrange you onto your back, the soft pillow serving to protect your reddened backend while simultaneously lifting your hips. 
You aren’t watching Steve, though. You’re captivated by Eddie as he smoothly removes his shirt, lean torso bared to you with a smattering of ink and taut muscles. Eddie isn’t quite the same lanky boy he once was – he’s grown into himself, into his body, and he’s far stronger than he looks. 
“Enjoying the show, brat?” he hums in question as his hand drops to the handcuff buckle of his belt, fiddling without so much as looking down at it, training his darkened irises on the rapid rise and fall of your chest.  “You know, I should put this belt to use on you for the way you’ve treated us today. I should tie your hands above your head, turn that vibrators of yours onto its highest setting, leave you writhing as it abuses that pretty little cunt while me and Steve go get some dinner. If I were really being mean, I would do those things, sweetheart. But I’m not feeling mean,” with each word, he steps closer to the bed, discarding his work overalls and socks along the way, before he’s crawling up the edge of the bed and slotting himself between your thighs. His touch is colder than Steve as he wraps a palm around one of your calves, sliding up and down as his rings press into your skin, “I’m actually feeling quite generous tonight, baby.” 
“Please,” you beg, knees falling apart, trying to make more room to accommodate him. You nearly reach down, nearly grab him by his shoulders and pull him into where you want him most – where you need him most. “I’ll be good, I swear. I can be good, sir-”
“My, my,” he cuts you off, leaning his mouth against the soft side of your knee, lips parting as he knicks your skin between his teeth and makes you jump, excitement and thrill pumping through your veins with intense longing, “You’re being so polite, I knew you had it in you. Where exactly were these manners earlier, though, with Stevie… in public?” 
At the mention of Steve, your head rolls to the side, finding him standing to the sidelines already completely undressed. His cock stands proudly against his lower abdomen, the tip an angry shade of pink, shining with precum as he slowly reaches down to grip himself around his base. 
You let out a whine as his grip on himself remains still, him only saying, “You better answer him. Before his generosity runs out.” 
Eddie bites your inner knee again before letting his lips drag up your inner thigh, breath hot on your skin, “Don’t be shy on us now. You certainly weren’t shy when you were talking such a big game in the middle of Family Video, of all places. What did you expect to happen, hm? Did you expect Steve to just take you to the backroom, to give you all you demanded without being deserving of it?” 
“No, sir,” you breathe out. He hooks both of your legs over his shoulders, looking up with a devilish grin, eyes locked on target of your cunt. 
“Tell Steve you’re sorry, sweetheart,” he insists, mouth growing closer to your center at an antagonizing pace. 
Steve’s fist is now pumping his length, and you purse your lips into a pout as you make eye contact with him, “I’m sorry, Stevie.” 
You receive a smack onto your exposed pussy from Eddie, his ring catching on your clit and causing you to let out a yelp.
“I’m sorry, sir,” you correct yourself, devolving into a moan when Eddie finally puts his mouth on you. It’s momentary, but enough to have your hands shooting down to grip the comforter at your side, balling it up tightly as your knuckles pale. 
“Say,” Eddie pulls back, shimmering eyes meeting yours, “Be a doll and hold my hair back for me, yeah? I usually prefer to keep my hair out of my meals.” 
You do as he asks, hands letting go of soft down material and tangling into messy curls, one hand digging into his roots while the other gathers the rest of his mane into a makeshift ponytail in your fist. His fingertips dig into your thighs greedily as he begins to devour, tongue working in quick swipes from your entrance to clit. You throw your head back, skull crushing into the mattress as your lips immediately begin to buck up into him. Your flames grow the highest yet, curling around your neck and up the back of your throat, releasing like smoke signals in gasps and sighs, heavy pants of Eddie’s name that only fuels him to grow more eager against you. You can feel the mattress shake from him rutting his hips in chase of his own release.
“Fuck,” you cry out over the sound of Eddie lapping and the quickening pace of Steve touching himself, “Jesus Christ. God, fuck, I-”
“Not God, not Jesus,” his voice rasps against your clit, pausing to purse his lips and suck sharply, “Just Eddie or sir will do just fine, baby.” 
Steve sees the first sign of your orgasm creeping up on you – Eddie is lost in you, nose nudging against your clit as his tongue dives into your entrance, taking all you can give him. 
“Don’t let her cum.” 
Another curse falls from your lips, and your back arches further off the mattress, igniting pain on your backside from the burn left by Steve’s hand. 
Eddie’s mouth stays pressed against you as his words send shockwaves up your spine, feeling his own pants as he replies, “Wouldn’t dream of it.” 
You tug sharply with the hand tangled in his roots, Eddie groaning into you as Steve says, “She’s about to cum. Get your mouth off her, Munson.” 
His words only spur you to clamp your thighs tightly against Eddie’s ears, as if you could block out the command. You were close. The closest you’d been all day, wound tightly and desperately for a release you’d been seeking since this morning. 
Eddie was easy to break. You’d been right. For all the mean he was capable of, once he got his mouth on you, you were always sure to finish. He was a starving man, as needy as you as he would beckon you closer and closer to your edge. He got off just as clearly by your pleasure as you did. 
He doesn’t listen to Steve. His tongue only plunges into you once more, and the coil in the center of your burning abdomen nearly snaps before Steve’s hand replaces the one that had been holding Eddie’s hair back. He tugs harshly, pulling the other boy’s mouth off of you in an instant.
The coil doesn’t snap. You nearly scream, your entire body aching fervently. 
Eddie’s neck is bared to you as you glance down, hair still pulled taut by Steve’s grip as he licks his slick lips with a teasing grin. He catches your look of desperation and frustration, and one corner of his mouth turns the grin lopsided, “Told you, sweetheart. He’s feeling mean today, not me.” 
“She’s been a brat. Brats don’t fucking cum,” Steve glares down at you, making you squirm, legs still hooked over Eddie’s shoulders. 
You're dizzy from nearly coming to the fruition of your release, but still find a spark of snark somewhere deep in your chest as you lazily roll your eyes at Steve. 
“Bite me, Steve.” 
Eddie gives your thighs one last tight squeeze before your legs drop off of him as he moves to stand up beside Steve. He crawls backwards slowly, deliberately wiggling his brows on his flush face, “Mouthy, are we?” 
“Far too mouthy,” Steve quips, letting go of Eddie’s hair finally. The curls brush his collarbones, falling in dark waves over his bare shoulders. 
“Maybe you should put her mouth to better use, Stevie.” 
They watch the breath get caught in your throat, the clench of your thighs as your eyes widen. Chest heaving. Pupils blown. You’re an image to be held right now by them, but they’re not going to tell you that – not yet. 
“You’re right,” Steve muses. He’s hard, painfully so, as he moves to cup his balls, rolling the tension out of his shoulders, “Get her on her knees for me.” 
Eddie helps you stand, taking the pillow that had been wedged beneath your hips and dropping it to the ground at Steve’s feet. Your knees still shake from your flames. You’re convinced they’ll burn you alive before the night is over, before your boys are done with you. 
Your hands grasp onto Eddie’s forearms for a moment, steadying yourself. 
“Hey,” he murmurs, a private moment between the two of you as he brings a finger beneath your chin, tilting your head up to look at him with devastating gentleness compared to the roughness they’ve shown you thus far. He’s smiling softly, no sign of cynical or cruelty as he tilts his head, “How you doin’? What’s your color?” 
“Still green, Eds,” you insist, leaning into his touch.
“And what do you say if it starts to get to be too much?”
“Yellow.” 
“And if you need to full stop, no questions asked?” 
“Red.”
“Atta girl,” he praises, dimples protruding before he leans down to kiss you. He tastes of nicotine, of mint, of you. Your tongue chases after his own into his mouth, losing yourself momentarily in the way his fingers continue to cradle your chin as he movements remain patient, giving. A stark contrast to what you’re used to in the bedroom, but exactly what you expect from the boy outside of the bedroom. 
“Any day now,” Steve sighs, reminding you two of his presence. You both pull back and Eddie drags his thumb over your bottom lip, tugging and mimicking the show you’d made with the syrup for him that morning. 
“Sorry,” Eddie rasps out, eyes still on you, “Just couldn’t resist. You know me, always the giver.” 
“Right,” Steve snorts, the tenseness of the moment momentarily lifted as Eddie moves you to your knees in front of Steve. “Because you were so giving to her last week when you spit in her mouth after she begged for a kiss.” 
Eddie shrugs, fingers carding through your hair and pulling it back over your shoulders, “I have my days. Just like you, clearly.” 
His touch leaves you as you come face to face with Steve’s dick now, lashes fluttering as you look up at the two men. Eddie is quick to remove his boxers, a wet patch having formed on the crotch of them. 
It’s embarrassing, the way your mouth waters at the mere sight of the two of them. Steve is big – in girth, in length – and you know him to be a challenge, always leaving your jaw aching. But Eddie is smaller – still girthy, still perfectly fitted to hit the perfect angles inside of you when he drills you into the mattress – but simply less intimidating. Steve stands tall and proud, but Eddie’s dick curves ever so slightly to the right, a darker shade of pink on his tip that nearly perfectly matches his lips and your own blushing cheeks. 
“Look at her,” Eddie coos, stepping out of the discarded boxers and coming around behind Steve, having to lean down to place his chin on Steve’s shoulder as his arms wrap around the boy’s waist loosely, “Already cock drunk, and all we’ve done is take off our clothes.” 
Steve is the one smirking now as Eddie places a succession of kisses over his shoulder, up his neck, both men look at you intently. “She is, isn’t she?” 
“Just pathetic,” Eddie goads. Steve nods in agreement immediately. 
You don’t say a word as Steve grips himself again and Eddie lets go of him, side-stepping to become a spectator once more before Steve guides his tip to your lips, tapping expectantly. 
“Not so mouthy anymore, are you, baby?” Steve teases you. You shake your head before you let your lips part, jaw slack as you open your mouth for Steve.
The weight of him on your tongue is heavy, and you give yourselves a moment to just savor it. This is what you had been wanting since this morning, what you’d been begging for the entire day. 
By the way Steve’s head falls back with a moan, he’d spent the entire day longing for this just as much as you. 
“Just like that,” he whines, hard exterior cracking as you begin to bob your head against him, taking your time as your tongue swirls around his tip. You breathe deeply through your nose, slow as you begin to swallow him down, taking him further and further down your throat until he hits the back of it and gags you. The restriction of your throat has him releasing a deep groan, pulling from his chest as his hand reaches down to find purchase in your hair. “Fuck, your mouth is so good for me, baby. So good.”
“So much better when she’s putting it to good use, right?” Eddie comments, and you can hear the schlick of his fist pumping himself, fluid movements with the flick of his wrist. 
Steve hums in agreement, fingers tightening against your scalp as you take him further down, choking once more. Tears have sprung to your eyes as you finally pull back, gasping for breath as you pepper kisses across his tip and down the length, reaching his balls before you mouth at them. His hips buck without constraint. 
You’ve caught you breath by the time you’re kissing up the opposite side, sucking his tip as harshly as Eddie had treated your clit, a throb ricocheting through you as his fans with your flames with every pant of your name. A chant, a prayer, an answer of forgiveness – your stunt at Family Video is long forgotten as you sit back on your heels and open your mouth wide, making it clear you want him to fuck your face. 
His eyes shoot open and catches sight of you waiting patiently. When he doesn’t make the first move, you reach up and tug on him, one hand stroking him and the other placed against his thigh. 
“Fuck my mouth, sir,” you beg of him, some of the lingering tears in your eyes still wetting your lashes, “Please.” 
The please is all it takes. The way your voice cracks, the way your thighs clench as you whine. Steve wastes no time in placing both his hands on the back of your head, watching you intently. 
Your hand starts to drop from his thigh, and he’s quick to grab it and place it back in its original position firmly. 
“Two taps to slow down, three taps to stop. Understood?” You nod dumbly, and he pulls on a strand of hair, making you gasp.“Say it. Say you understand.” 
“I understand. Two taps to slow down, three to stop.” 
Once the words leave your mouth, your hand still on his thigh, he thrusts into your waiting mouth. There’s no mercy as his hips jerk towards you, immediately pressing down your throat and leaving you a drooling mess. Each thrust brings on a fresh wave of tears, leaving your cheeks wet as you let him use you for his own pleasure. Each time his tip taps the back of your throat, you feel your core begin to ache worse, shuffling your thighs to keep your balance as well as seek out friction. You let your eyes divert from watching the way Steve’s chest frantically heaves to Eddie, who’s eyes are half-shut, wrist still flicking lazily, moving to a slower pace than the force that Steve fucks your mouth with. You try to communicate with your eyes for him to come closer, but to no avail. 
Finally, you tap Steve’s thigh twice, and his movements slow to nearly a stop, letting his dick drop from your tongue as you puff to catch your breath. 
“Everything okay?” Steve immediately checks in on you, and you nod, focusing your attention.
“C’mere,” you plead with Eddie, holding out a hand. He’s quick to come to you, and in an instant, you replace his fist with your own after spitting into your palm. 
“Oh, fuck,” Eddie hisses, hips stuttering as you pick up his pace where he left off. 
The boys share a look before you glance up to Steve. 
“Sorry,” you smirk softly, “Eddie just looked a little lonely. Continue as you were.” 
Steve’s thrusts are even more frantic now as his eyes dart between your eyes and your hand, tugging on Eddie’s dick to match the pace set by him. He tests it out, slowing his movements and immediately widening his eyes at the way your hand follows his guidance. 
Eddie seems to realize this at the exact time, as they both moan out in sync. 
Just as you realize how sore your throat is sure to be come tomorrow, the possibility of bruising on your mind, Steve’s breathing becomes more ragged, thrusts faltering while Eddie begins to whine incessantly. 
“Fuck,” Eddie gasps out, finally thrusting to meet your fist, “Fucking- Holy shit, my God.” 
“I’m going to cum,” Steve grunts out, abdomen contracting, “I- Fuck, baby. Fuck, take it. Just like that.” 
His praises become incoherent as Eddie smacks your hand away from him, quickly guiding your now free-hand to play with Steve’s balls. That’s all it takes for Steve, a few ginger rolls and pinches against his heavy sack, before he’s cumming in rapid spurts down your throat. He presses you up against his pelvis, your nose buried in his pubic hair, as he groans and curses through his high. Eddie watches, wide-eyed, as you take it in stride, swallowing every drop that Steve offers to you. 
“Well, shit,” he breathes out through his nose as you pull back from Steve, letting a string of spit trail from your chin to his softening dick, “That never gets fucking old.” 
You laugh hoarsely, “Neat trick, huh?” 
Steve helps you off of your knees gently before he moves to sit on the edge of the bed, Eddie still standing with his dick against his abs, pink tip more swollen than before. 
You stand between Steve’s knees and lean down, letting one of your knuckles brush over his check before you push some of his stray hairs off of his forehead with care, “Have I proven I’m sorry yet, sir?” 
He breathlessly chuckles, eyes shut in residual bliss, “Fuck you.” 
You’re shocked when Eddie comes up behind you as you’re still bent over, and suddenly running his tip through your soaking folds. Steve leans forward to kiss you hard, catching the whine that spills out from your throat. 
“I think we owe her an orgasm still, Stevie,” Eddie comments, hand wrapping around the front of you as he pulls you back from Steve, fingers flicking your nipples before his hand comes to rest around your throat. Your back is flush with his chest, he’s tucked between your thighs as your core flutters around nothing. “How’s that sound, sweetheart?” 
Your hum is lost in your chest, your flames desperate to lick at Eddie’s wrists as you lean your head back on his shoulder and let his fingers give an experimental squeeze to your throat.
“Still too much of a cock drunk slut to answer me, I see,” Eddie tsks, kissing the back of your shoulder chastely, “That’s alright. I’m still in a giving mood, baby — Let me take care of you.” 
Steve watches, silent and entranced, as you become pliable in Eddie’s hands. You put up no fight as presses you to get on your hands and knees on the bed, letting your knees slide further apart until you’ve sunk to the perfect height for Eddie to slip his dick between your slit once more, his tip catching your clit and making you jerk forward. His hands massage your ass, still red from Steve’s spankings, thumbs rubbing gentle circles and the cool and sticky rings managing to soothe the heat that radiates from you. 
“Look at that,” Eddie nudges the tip of his cock against your entrance, “You’re already ready for me. She’s practically begging to be filled by me.” 
“I am,” you agree, curling your fists into the sheets to prepare yourself, “Please fill me, Eddie. Please.” 
He chuckles darkly, leaning forward as some of his weight lays along your back, whispering in your ear, “I wasn’t talking about you, slut. I was talking about that pretty pussy of yours.” 
Without warning, Eddie sinks in. He was right — your walls stretch to welcome him, sucking him in tightly until he’s bottomed out, groaning huskily into your ear still. 
“Fuck, sweetheart,” he gasps with you, “This wet, just for us?” 
You hear Steve make a weak noise off to the side of you two, and tilt your head to find him already half hard again, eyes focused on where Eddie fills you.  
“Just for you,” you supply through whines that creep up on you, fry tile in your attempt to swallow them down, already clenching down on Eddie as you burn, “Only for my boys.” 
Your eyes lock with Steve’s. He’s fully hard at the term of possessiveness. 
Eddie finally begins to rock against you, lifting from your back, each snapping of his hips focused on nudging his tip deeper into you, hitting the spot that has your back arching as you cry out. He’s wasting no time, hardly being careful of your sore skin as his thighs meet the back of yours.
“God, you take me so well. Always take us so well, sweetheart,” Eddie rambles, mutterings of curses spilling from his lips as he reaches to hold your hips with a tight grip. Even if your throat wasn’t bruised, your hips surely would be. 
Steve has begun to touch himself again, matching Eddie’s strokes to his own. 
“So fucking tight,” Eddie groans out, punctuating his words with a particularly harsh thrust that has you crying out, mind reeling as the burn that has scorned you all day threatens to spread. Coals in the pit of your stomach, turning your vision right and your body flush pink, “You want my cum sweetheart? Just like in those pretty photos?” 
You clench around him, walls beginning to flutter as you chant an alternation of his name and Steve’s. 
“You know what, Eddie? I think those photos are a bit dated by now, don’t you think? I think we need to take a new picture of our pretty little pussy,” Steve cuts in, tone uneven as he thrusts into his own fist. 
You clench harder.
“Is that what you want, sweetheart?” Eddie’s hot chest is back against your back, his lips brushing the shell of your ear with each rock of his hips. He’s impossibly deep — you’re sure if you were to press on your lower stomach, you’d feel him there. “Want me to fill you with all my cum like the fucking slut you are? Hm?” 
It’s as if he was reading your mind, a hand trailing from your hips over where he is in fact bulging against your lower stomach. He lays his palm flat and applies pressure, and your mouth hangs open, unable to make a sound as your face screws up in pleasure, “Feel that? Feel how fucking deep I am in you right now?” he pauses, and thrusts even harder, knocking you down from your palms to your elbows, “I bet you’d like me to fill you with my cum, I bet you want me to put a fucking baby in you, sweetheart. You’d love that, wouldn’t you? God, I know you love that idea, squeezing me so tight.” 
Steve groans out from beside the two of you again, chest red as he chases his second organs of the night. You’re too overwhelmed with your coil once more tightening to take in the sight.
“I bet you’d let us take turns, fucking babies into you, making you nice and round with our fucking kids. I bet your tits would get nice and pretty, big and sensitive, huh?” Eddie edges you on, noticing the way you’ve begun to rock back into him, still fluttering around him wildly with each of his words. His hand travels up to your chest and twists a nipple painfully, “Is that what you want, brat? You want us to breed you?” 
“Yes,” you finally find your words, crying out, unable to chase your breath as everything inside you ignites, “Please breed me, p-please,” you stutter as tears begin to flow down your cheeks again, “I- Please let me cum. I’m gonna cum, please-”
The words you’ve been waiting for all day finally fall from Eddie’s lips, “Cum for me, baby.” 
Your vision goes white as you burst into flames, face pressing fully into the mattress roughly as Eddie continues to pound into you, taking no time to slow down. Your ears ring, unable to hear a single soothing word either he or Steve coos at you through your release, only focused on how full you are of Eddie, the ache in your jaw from Steve, the burn of your ass from Steve’s palm. You’re sure you’ve screamed through it by the new scratchiness that settles with the residual ache in your throat. 
When you finally come back to, the flames finally tamed as the embers and ash settle, Eddie is still rutting relentlessly into you, clearing chasing his own high now. 
“Fuck,” he whines out, drawing the word out as his hips stutter, “G-Gonna cum, gonna fill you up so full of my cum, sweetheart, I-” 
He cuts off, and you feel his warmth paint your walls as he bites onto your shoulder, hardly muffling the sinful noises coming from his mouth. For a moment, he relaxes his full weight on top of you before lifting at the sound of Steve’s whines. 
He doesn’t pull out yet, beckoning to Steve as he sees the boy coming close to release. You’re still coming down, smoke still clearing from your head, hardly registering when Eddie leaves you empty, only for Steve to begin to pump himself over you. His cum mixes with Eddie’s as it leaks out of you, painting your puffy lips in both of them. His moans and groans sound as if they come from underwater. 
You stay laying there, entire body trembling from exhaustion, entire upper body collapsed as Steve soothingly holds your hips.
“Stay up for us just one more second baby,” he kisses your temple, sickly sweet before you hear the shutter of a camera. 
There’s a whirring of film being produced as your hips finally collapse and your feet brush the carpeted floor, body sagging in relief. You’re fully unaware of Steve and Eddie’s movements, unsure of which one retrieves the wet cloth to clean you off, which one gathers you up before pulling back the comforter and sheets to snuggly fit you into the center of the bed. You think it’s Steve that produces the glass of water, as he whispers ‘drink’ and encourages you to drain half the glass before each boy takes to laying on either side of you. You curl instinctually into Steve’s chest as Eddie presses his body carefully to the back of you, grabbing your hand and intertwining fingers before he begins to place kisses down your arm. Steve traces soothing circles over your thigh. 
“You did so good for us, honey,” Steve murmurs as he presses a kiss to the crown of your head, “So good.” 
Eddie leans back to look at your bare ass, catching sight of the handprints left welting, “Sheesh. Stevie really did a number on you, didn’t he, sweetheart?” 
You whine pathetically in response, making both men chuckle. 
“It isn’t that bad, is it?” Steve finally asks after a beat of silence, attempting to crane his neck to catch sight of the damage done. 
“Nothing a little lotion and lovin’ can’t fix,” Eddie smiles, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before letting go of your hand, “My head, on the other hand, still hurts from you pulling my hair, dickhead.” 
“You weren’t listening to me, asshole.” 
With the flames dying down, all that’s left now is a warmth of unimaginable lengths, something to have and to hold as the two boys bicker from either side of you. 
When silence begins to soothe over you three, when you can feel both Steve’s head beneath your chest and Eddie’s against your shoulders rising and falling evenly, you finally dare to whisper, “I’m sorry for being such a brat today.” 
“Oh, don’t worry about it, baby,” Steve mumbles, clearly on the verge of sleep as his fingers have slowed in their gentle dance over your thigh. 
“Yeah, sweetheart,” Eddie agrees, mouth pressed to the nape of your neck, “You know we don’t mind. We’re always more than happy to put you back in your place.” 
“We’re sorry for ignoring you this morning,” Steve continues on drearily, on the cusp of drifting out of consciousness, “You can have ten more minutes of every morning from now on, I swear. I… I can call… I can call out of work tomorrow, or just… go in late,” Steve’s words become increasingly slurred as he clearly starts to fall asleep mid sentence. 
You can’t help but giggle into his chest, adoration flooding you for his snores that begin. “He’s definitely not going to call out tomorrow, is he?” 
Eddie’s still awake behind you, each puff of his breath on your neck soothing you to follow Steve’s lead into unconsciousness. He brings a hand to your hip and pinches you lovingly, “Don’t worry, babe. I’m actually off work tomorrow. Maybe we can get up to some trouble, return the favor and take some polaroids for Stevie to have of his own.”
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lowkeyrobin · 2 months
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MCYT ; when/how they (accidently) reveal the relationship
includes ; quackity, karl jacobs, & foolish gamers
pronouns used ; you/yours , partner
warnings ; language
masterlist
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QUACKITY
he posted a pic of you guys on Twitter
he didn't see nor realize that you guys were holding hands in it and thought it was the same pic wo the hand holding that he wanted to post
it was so small but enough to get people questioning
the next picture was even worse
it was basically just softlaunching your relationship and he didn't even see
apologized sm after he told you like "Hey I think they know we're dating I kinda fucked up"
you couldn't care less
again, waiting on him to just do it himself
next pic he posts is you guys with some other qsmp streamers playing spin the bottle and you guys kissing
like this was your way of just officiating it lmao
KARL JACOBS
for sure kissed you on stream and didn't even realize "oh wait we never really announced this"
he's horrible at keeping secrets so that didn't last long
apologizes profusely but you're just like "dude it's fine lol"
he feels bad but he's now happy cause he doesn't have to hide his love for you
got the good ending lmao
FOOLISH
while streaming with Tina, Karl & Punz
he was joking around with them and he goes "well my awesome partner is cooler so shut up"
"and who is this mystery person you keep talking about???" Karl asks him, totally forgetting that they were streaming and Foolish hadn't properly announced his relationship
"Y/N. The one who's better at Bedwars than you" Foolish giggles
"I knew it!" Karl shouts
Foolish honestly forgot he was streaming too
shrugs it off, he knows you're fine with it being public and he already started kinda soft launching your relationship anyways so it's fine
294 notes · View notes
number1mingyustan · 5 months
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Keep On ✹ ☾
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toxicboyfriend!mingyu x fem!reader
Warnings: kissing, cursing, explicit smut, alcohol consumption, established relationship, mentions of cheating, oral (f.), multiple orgasms, car sex, rough sex, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, toxic relationships, smoking, crying
Summary: Every time I come crawling on my knees, you're there and you just keep on taking me back
Word Count: 2.9k
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song: keep on– kehlani
“This shit’s exhausting, Gyu,” You sigh, taking a long drag of the cigarette wedged between your pointer and middle finger.
You exhale, watching the smoke blow from your lips and into the crisp night air. Your cheeks are stained with tears, uncomfortably drying against the cool night air.
Mingyu hates it when you smoke. Always says something about how it’s bad for you and advises you against it. You don’t do it often though, only when you’re stressed or upset.
Right now your back is pressed against the side of Mingyu’s silver BMW. You sniffle, taking another drag and blowing out the smoke.
Mingyu stands next to you, leaned against the car with his head tilted back. He stares up at the stars illuminating the night sky instead of staring at you. He runs a hand through his hair, letting out an exhausted sigh.
“I don’t know what you want me to do Y/n,” He crosses his arms. “I already apologized.”
You let out a scoff and inhale from the cigarette once again.
___
About twenty minutes ago, things were going fine between the two of you. You were sitting in the passenger seat of the car and Mingyu was driving. The two of you were at a party earlier in the night and decided to go home.
You’d been drinking a bit, not enough to be extremely drunk, but enough for Mingyu to decide it was time to go home. You were driving with the windows down and decided to connect to the car AUX.
When you went to unplug Mingyu’s phone you saw a text message from a new number and everything fell apart.
hey it’s yena from the party :)) wanted to make sure i got the right number lol
You didn’t hesitate to confront him about it while he was driving. You asked him who she was and why she was texting him. He got defensive immediately, questioning you and why you were on his phone in the first place.
You didn’t back down, continuing to pester him and grow upset about the text message. You grew more frustrated with his unwillingness to be honest with you and completely lost your calm.
Next thing you knew, you were screaming at him with tears in your eyes while he was trying to calm you down. His attempts weren’t effective and having you scream at him was quite distracting on the road.
Instead of driving straight home, he made a detour to the parking lot next to the trail nearby. It was dark out and no one was around.
He parked the car in a rush, barely making it in between the painted white lines. You were still screaming at him and sobbing frantically.
You climbed out of the car, leaning against it and lighting your cigarette. He was quick to follow after, joining you on the side of the car, where you stand now.
___
“Your apologies don’t mean shit,” You blow out the smoke.
He turns his head in your direction. You look away, refusing to meet his eyes. He sighs and cracks his knuckles.
“I’m not trying to hurt you baby, you know that.”
“I don’t actually.” You’re quick to respond.
“You do. C’mon, you know that I love you.”
“If you loved me, you wouldn’t have cheated.” You sniffle.
“I didn’t cheat.” He says firmly.
“Gyu-“
“I didn’t kiss her, I didn’t fuck her, I never laid a finger on her. She and I talked for a few minutes and she wanted my number. I didn’t cheat on you. I may have fucked up, but I’m not a cheater and you know that.”
“You still gave her your number! You didn’t think to tell her you had a girlfriend or tell her no! Regardless of who initiated it, you didn’t turn her down. You fucking entertained the flirting and I wouldn’t be surprised if you flirted back. Chances are pretty high that you did considering the way you came back and immediately dragged me off.” You scoff. “Shitty excuse saying I was too drunk when the problem was you. You obviously just didn’t want me to find out. You always do this shit, Gyu.” You inhale from the cigarette once again and blow out.
“You know I’d never cheat on you Y/n. I don’t take those accusations lightly. You know that I love you and I’d never do that shit to you. I cant help it if some girl approaches me, I stay loyal to you.”
Unfortunately, this isn’t the first time you’ve dealt with a situation like this with Mingyu.
You’re Mingyu’s first real relationship. Before you it had been meaningless flings and very short term commitments for him.
You and Mingyu started very casual, but grew into a serious relationship over time. Something about you was different and he found himself wanting commitment. He hated the idea of you being with another guy and your relationship blossomed.
But with a guy like Mingyu, it’s only natural to catch the attention of other women. He’s tall and attractive and knows all the right things to say and do. He knows his way into a woman’s heart, and into her bed.
It’s not uncommon for women to flirt with him when you go out, but the way he responds to it is what bothers you.
He can’t seem to fully let go of his old habits.
When you started dating, you made it clear to him what you wanted and what your commitment to one another would entail. He agreed, assuring you that you were what he wanted an all he wanted.
But three years later you still find yourself having to come back to this conversation.
However, the fact still remains. Despite this being a reoccurring issue, he’s never allowed things to get physical with another woman, at least to your knowledge.
He simply likes to flirt because he enjoys the attention. He’s always loved the attention, but you’ve always hated it.
“You’re not loyal to me though. You go around flirting with other bitches and don’t listen to a word I say. It’s been three years and I still can’t get actual commitment from you.”
“Baby you know we’re locked in.” He defends.
“I don’t know that, actually . And I cant keep having this conversation with you. It’s been three fucking years and I don’t know how many more times or more ways I can tell you this shit. I’m exhausted.”
“So what? You wanna break up because some girl flirted with me at a party?”
“Fuck’s sake,” You drop the rest of your cigarette on the dirt and step on it to put it out. “You know it’s not that simple. I’ve said it a thousand times, I’m not doing it again.”
You turn around, reaching for the passenger side of the handle. “Take me home.”
You pull at it, letting out a frustrated sigh and you notice he’s locked the car. He comes up behind you, playing his hands ever so lightly on your waist. “Don’t be mad at me, you know how much I hate it when you’re upset with me.”
“I hate it when you do shit that upsets me.”
He licks his lips softly, leaning in closer to you. He presses his chest against your back and wraps his arms around your waist.
“I’m sorry, I really am. I’m gonna do better for you baby, promise. I love you.”
You hate that he’s telling you everything you want to hear. You hate that there’s so much sincerity in his voice and you already feel yourself giving in. You hate that you let this stuff slide with him and give in easily. You hate that he makes you so weak.
It’s quite sad really, especially knowing that if things were the other way around it would be completely different. Mingyu has always been possessive over you and gotten jealous easily.
You’ve never entertained other guys the way he did, and you had no problem rejecting them. But it still pissed Mingyu off. Seeing a guy approach you or stare at you a little too hard had his blood boiling.
It didn’t matter if you rejected them, Mingyu still had a sour taste in his mouth at the mere though of you with another guy.
For now, you’ll blame letting your guard down on the alcohol. You know you’d do it sober, but it’s not a fact you have an easy time accepting, at least in the moment.
He turns you around so you’re facing him and your back is pressed against the car again. He pushes a strand of hair behind your ear and kisses your forehead.
“I don’t like hurting you… I’m sorry. You’re the only one for me, my girl. Don’t need anyone else, I’m gonna be better for you.” He kisses your cheek. “You’re all I want.”
“You’re lying,” You sniffle, turning away from him. “You’re just saying that. You don’t really mean it, you don’t love me.”
He cups your cheek, turning your head and forcing you to face him. Your eyes meet and and he stares down at you with soft eyes. A small smile appears on his face.
He knows you’re giving in.
“Baby… would I be here apologizing to you and eating your pussy if I didn’t love you? You know I mean it.”
“You’re not eating my pussy.”
“Not yet I’m not.”
He flashes you that million dollar smile and you feel yourself fold completely. Your face feels hot despite the cool night air filling the atmosphere.
You feel pathetic for letting him win so easily again. But you can’t help it, not when it comes to Mingyu.
He needs no invitation to lean down and kiss you. When he does, you’re kissing him back immediately with no protest.
His hands move from your waist to your inner thighs, traveling up the skirt you have on. He leans in closer, pressing his body firmly against yours
He plays with the hem of your panties before pulling them off and dropping to his knees in front of you. He looks up at you with lust clouding his eyes.
“Let me make it up to you?” He licks his lips.
Your brain is telling you no, but you’re already nodding your head the moment he asks the question.
It’s all the invitation he needs before he’s dipping his head under your skirt and forcing your legs open. He holds you up, supporting your shaky thighs.
He licks a teasingly long stripe along your folds before diving in.
He sucks on your clit, moaning softly as your arousal begins to coat his tongue. You get wet for him so easily, it fuels his ego and desire for you.
He buries himself in your cunt, determined to get you off and make you forgive him. You’re pulling at his hair beneath your skirt and crying out his name.
“So good Gyu,” You moan breathlessly.
He eats you out so sloppily. There’s a mixture of his saliva and your arousal dripping down his chin, and the lewd sounds slipping from his lips are pornographic in nature. The cry that slips out of your lips when Mingyu bites down on your thigh hard enough to leave a mark is anything but appropriate, especially when he presses his lips back to your pussy and laughs in the middle of going down on you.
His warm tongue is bringing you closer and closer to the edge with each passing second.
Your hands are tangled in his hair messily, pulling and grabbing at his waves desperately. You’re grinding against him, pushing your hips into his face every time his tongue glides across your clit.
You pull at his hair particularly hard, eliciting a groan from him that sends vibrations coursing through your body. It’s just enough to have you cumming on his tongue.
He laps your cunt greedily, allowing you to ride out your orgasm on his face as he cleans you up with his mouth.
He doesn’t let up until you’re pulling him by the hair and forcing him off of you. He takes the hint, finally removing himself from your cunt and looking up at you.
His face is soaked and there’s a hazy, lustful look clouding his eyes as he stares up at you. “You forgive me yet?” he asks.
You ignore him, pulling him up to his feet and holding him against your body. “Fuck me, please.”
You can feel the way his cock twitches with excitement. It’s already hard and straining against the material of his jeans. He’s relieved to hear you want this just as bad as him.
He reaches into his back pocket for the car keys to unlock it. He yanks the door open and pushes you inside. He climbs on top of your body, wedging himself between your open legs.
The car door slams shut and his lips are back on yours in no time. Your hands on him, roaming his body until you’re undoing his jeans and helping him take them off.
He places your legs onto his shoulders and slides his length into you. He fills you up perfectly, stretching your tight hole open with ease. Your warmth envelopes him, arousal coating every inch of his cock and filling the car with lewd squelching noises with each thrust.
He finds his pace quickly, pounding into you roughly the way he knows you like it. The tip of his cock brushes deep inside of you every time he bottoms out, leaving you crying out with his every movement. You can feel the weight of the car shifting beneath you every time he fucks his cock into you.
He lets out a deep groan with each thrust when he slams into you. Your arms are wrapped around his neck with your hands tangled in his hair, bringing his body in closer to you.
"Shit," You cry.
He's literally got you folded in half and fucks himself deep inside of you. There are tears welling in your eyes due to the intensity of it all.
"You take me so good baby, every time," he coos. "This cunt was fucking made for me. All mine."
You can only manage a nod in agreement.
Your breathing is growing heavier and the car windows are starting to fog up. You're squeezing him so tight, it'd be hard for him to move if you weren't so wet.
He wipes away your tears, lightly shushing you as he draws his lips closer to your ear. "You hear that baby?"
"H-huh?" You choke out.
"Hear how wet you are for me? How good I fuck you. Was fucking made for you baby," he whispers into your ear. "I'd never give this up. You're perfect for me."
His hand sneakily slips between your thighs, thumb circling your clit in small circles. It has you mewling and whimpering upon contact and you're cumming only moments later.
It's one of the most intense orgasms your body has experienced. Your legs are shaking and you're gripping his hair for dear life as you cum around him. He fucks you through it sloppily.
The sheer feeling of your walls tightening and throbbing around him is already sending him close to the edge. He lets out a long groan and drops his head into the crook of your neck as he cums.
You feel his cock twitching inside of you as he pumps you full of his cum. His eyes are screwed shut and his hips stutter as he thrusts into you sloppily.
His hips finally come to a half and he's breathing heavily onto your skin. It takes him a minute to fully come down from his own orgasm, but he sits up and slides out of you slowly.
You suddenly feel cold and empty as the loss of contact.
"You feeling okay?" He asks breathlessly.
You nod, propping yourself up onto your elbows before searching the car for your clothes to redress yourself. The two of you situate yourselves in silence. There's a faint tension lingering in the air, but the post-nut clarity hasn't hit hard enough for either of you to actually address it.
Once you're both dressed again, you relocate back to the driver and passenger seats. "Ready to go back home?"
"Yeah," You say quietly.
He starts the car back up and turns to look at you. He leans over, extending his arm to fix your hair with delicate fingers. He pats your head softly, mumbling a soft "there."
He then grabs the Aux cord and plugs your phone in. He extends his arm once again, holding your phone out to you.
There's a bitter taste on your tongue when he does so. You fight the urge to say something in the moment. But he smiles at you and leans in, placing a soft kiss on your lips.
It heals you the way a bandaid would. The sweetness of his lips is like a stamp replacing the bitterness that was on your tongue only moments ago.
It's not permanent, and you know it's only a matter of time before the bitterness returns. But you know he'll simply kiss it better and you'll just keep on going back.
_______________________________________________
© number1mingyustan - Do not repost without permission.
543 notes · View notes
lightlycareless · 5 months
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Okay but im so curious
how would the zenin household react to seeing naoya become affectionate/simp for y/n?????? the thought of it already makes me kick my feet in the air
I will start with the fact that everything Naoya does with you is like a huge shocker to the whole clan.
From him finding a partner that willingly wants to be with him, to demonstrating affection to said partner… yeah, no one believed Naoya could actually care for anyone else but him, at least in a way that doesn’t denote making fun of them or something.
But he does, and when you came along, it brought out that side many wished he would’ve kept hidden.
I never envisioned Naoya to be very fond of PDA, at least not with people he knows, because he gets somewhat embarrassed (lol). Even holding hands with his wife when his relatives are nearby is like a big no-no. He feels like he needs to uphold this untouchable image of heir before them, demand their fear respect and so on.
However, as years go by, he’ll eventually just stop caring, especially if the two get married. He just… doesn’t give a f*ck lol.
And the thing he’ll do though at this point, oh, they’re going to be far from sweet. Let’s say that Naoya is a huge pervert when it comes to you lol. I don’t have any other way to put it, he’s just obsessed with you.
Naoya is the kind of person to slap your butt when passing/approaching you. He doesn’t care if you’re in the company of your staff, or if his uncle/cousins are there, or anyone really—he just had to do it, couldn’t hold himself, and you absolutely hate him for it because it makes you go through embarrassing moments!! Having to apologize in his name in order to do some damage control, people looking at the two and immediately looking away because they can’t remove that mental image!!! Oh boy.
You’ve talked to him about it and agreed to at least… keep it to a minimum, be more discreet if possible. Of course, that only applies in public places. In the bedroom… that’s a completely different story 😏
And let’s not forget he’s known to be a loudmouth, so the things he’ll tell you are not short of indecent either. This is probably the thing you dislike the most out of his affection. The other you could tolerate, act like no one saw anything (even play the fool if someone alleged they saw something) but THIS???? Nah, it’s just too much—and childish too.
“I don’t think it’ll fit, Naoya” you say, probably about something mundane like a new couch you got for the house.
“Really? But I saw how well you fit me yesterday.” And the way your face turns red is almost comical, more so when the mover was right there, listening to everything, Naoya just had to laugh.
“Shut up!!”
“What? I was referring to the conversation about the couch we had last night, pervert.” lies. The sneaky bastard will act like you’re the indecorous one out of the two for having understood his words like that!! As if you hadn’t known him for years now!
It’s safe to say that it’s really hard to have important meetings when the two are present, so his family would often try to get you or Naoya alone.
But… it wasn’t all that bad, because even when Naoya can be mildly infuriating, he’s also capable of being sweet.
That is something that mostly happens when in private, away from the prying eyes of the rest of the world, more so when he’s spent a long time away from you.
Naoya will reach out for you first thing upon arriving back to the estate, gently cup your cheeks and pepper your face with kisses, telling you how much he missed you and your pretty face.
He’d wrap his arms around you, rest his face on the crook of your neck, taking in your scent as he relishes the fact that he’s finally back to your embrace.
Another thing I think he’ll enjoy doing (you as well) is when he rests his head on your lap, telling you of his day as you thread your fingers along his hair.
Bottom line, Naoya is overly shameless confident when in the eyes of others, but vulnerable with you :>
As for the reactions of the Zen’in clan….
Ogi, Naobito, and Jinichi would stare at him in complete silence/shock as Naoya goes on with his supposed displays of affection. I think that out of the three, Ogi would be the one more comfortable when showing his distaste for it, scowling whenever seeing you and Naoya together, quickly leaving the room as soon as he gets the faintest idea Naoya is to do his usual nasty shenanigans. The rest wouldn’t really care that much, asides from a “Really? Naoya? Ooookay” (and they know better not to interfere at this point 🤪 he's crazy protective of you)
Ranta would remain speechless, face completely red as he catches Naoya’s innuendos. He definitely feels a whole lot of empathy (pity) for you. But when his friend isn’t being nasty, he’s happy that he’s found someone to be vulnerable/happy with 😊.
Junko, Mai and Maki’s mother, is just the same as Ogi, only that she’ll openly tell both of you to “stop it”, and to “hold some decorum” for that’s no way the future leader of the clan should behave. Naoya just laughs it off, you apologize to her in private. At the end she knows it’s futile to even hope to change him—the two were young, after all, (IMAGINE IF HE WENT ON LIKE THAT EVEN WHEN OLDER? Hahahahah, Oh poor Junko) and contrary to her marriage, this was one made out of love so… good for them, she guesses.
Naoya’s brothers would be the ones to openly, even more than Ogi, show their disgust whenever catching his PDA. Naohiko would be the one to exclaim “EWWWWWWWWWWWW” as loud as possible when he sees them, maybe do some puking noises too? haha
Naofumi would initially not understand what the hell Naoya is going on about and why you’re so embarrassed all the time, but when he does get it, oof, he’ll disappear as soon as it begins.
And Naoaki… well he’d just try to avoid the two as most as possible in general lol. He never liked seeing people making out anyways... (uh who does???)
At the end, Naoya’s behavior would worsen become more and more obvious, especially when the two have their first kids 😊 He just loves you too much, he needs you to know that—that the others have issues with it he doesn’t care 🥺 all that matters to him his you and his new family.
ajgfakghagk Thank you so much for sending in this ask!! I hope it was to your liking ❤️
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butdaddyilovehimmm · 3 months
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t's marvey fic rec list!
These are mostly smut (bdsm / d/s), fluff is in pt. 2 in the reblogs
Still updating!
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zombee · 5 months
Text
I feel like the luckiest Our Flag Means Death fan in the world after the season 2 finale. By a series of incredible circumstances - including a significant metatextual realization that came in at the 11th hour - it was close to perfect for me.
This essay has everything. Completely normal behavior over a television series. Steven Universe references. The David Jenkins School of Whatever is Best for the Bit. Humbling catharsis.
First: this piece does not exist with the central thesis of “it’s okay to not like something but that’s not the same thing as it being bad.” I feel like thousands of words have already been written on this since Thursday, so I’m going to try to not get too in depth on that.
Second, cards on the table, because it’s relevant and I don’t want to waste your time if this is going to sour your ability to hear me out: I’m an Izzy Canyon hater. For MANY reasons, but from way before the concept of the Canyon existed, (some) Izzy fans pinged me in the same way as Snape/Kylo Ren fans did, and before May 2022 was over I went from genuinely enjoying Izzy’s character and place in the narrative to hating him because his fans made it impossible for me to enjoy him anymore.
(SOME! of his fans. Please don’t keep making me say this, although I’m not going to talk about the Canyon directly anymore after this. I know there are a ton of normal Izzy Enjoyers and even Canyonites, I am literally friends with many of them, please take this all in the good faith it’s intended and if you’re not One Of The Bad Ones then you’re fine! I very carefully don’t go anti-Izzy on main, and when I stopped enjoying his character, I stopped writing him into fics. I’m not trying to be a dick, I just want to be honest. Anyway.)
The season 2 finale made me weep over Izzy Goddamn hands.
ALL season long, I was disgruntled. All season long. I really, truly, DEEPLY appreciated what they were doing with his character and arc, I thought it was wildly on brand for the themes of community/queerness in the show, I saw the vision, I liked it!!! But. I wanted a fucking apology, yall. I needed three seconds of “sorry I called you a slur, Ed :/” and that would have been enough. But I had to let it go. It was poisoning my enjoyment of the whole season, which I loved with very little exception (not none!) and I just had to let it go. I wasn’t getting an apology. That didn’t negate what they were doing with his character.
Yall. They withheld the apology on purpose.
THIS FUCKING SHOW!!!
Let’s go back a bit. I was at the episode 6 + 7 screening, and the breakup shook me. Probably a LOT more than if I had watched it alone in bed at 3am on my laptop - five days of no sleep after NYCC, lots of emotions, seeing it on a big screen with a hundred other intense fans, etc etc - but I did see other folks reacting in parallel ways to me when the episodes aired to the regular public, so maybe I would have felt the same way. Regardless, I was mad at Stede and to a lesser extent Ed. I NEEDED AN APOLOGY FOR THAT FISH LINE. I needed it! “Whativah” autocorrects to “WHATIVAH” in my phone. I was going through it.
(When I rewatched the episode when it aired it was not nearly as bad as I remember, lol)
So now the episode 8 screeners go out and the reviews drop and I think I catch one half-glimpse of a “What a heartbreaking ending!” kind of snippet, and some of my friends who are spoiler fiends unintentionally drop little hints about similar ideas (devastating/heartbreaking/split the fandom) type shit.
And I was a fucking WRECK! about it.
I do love this whole show with my whole chest. I do!!! But I’m not rotted because this is an excellent television show, I’m rotted because two old men kiss each other! On the MOUTH!!! in an excellent television show. You get it, right? I’ve written 700,000 words across almost 100 fics and 98% of them are dedicated to those two men falling in love in different universes. 
So it just did not even occur to me the “heartbreak/devastation/fandom split” would be about anything but Gentlebeard.
Another piece of this that was fucking me up - David Jenkins and his “satisfactory” ending biz. My brain was reacting like this show was ENDING ending, even if I knew logically! that this is just season 2!!! And I wasn’t ready for that, because what if it wasn’t personally satisfying, and I’m a mess about it? Why was I so worried about not liking it? I’d liked the whole season! Even if they didn’t nail the landing I wasn’t going to stop writing fic or hanging out with my pirate community & friends. 
…is what I kept trying to tell myself, but the way anxiety disorders work is funny like that lol. What if I did stop writing fic and hanging out in pirate spaces? That would hurt much more than a show I like disappointing me. And for anyone who’s having that experience with ofmd s2, I’m so very, very sorry. It sucks and that’s where my epiphany came from on Wednesday before the finale.
Because it has happened to me before.
I flit from hyperfocus to hyperfocus, as ya do when you’re spicy, but the last thing to get its hooks in me PROPERLY like pirates was Steven Universe. And I did NOT like the way the regular season ended!!! (I actually really did like most of Future; that’s not what I mean. I mean season 5). I don’t like how they handled the Diamonds, tldr; I think the scope of their villainy got too out of hand, and I was left grieving the thing that had meant enough to me I ran a fan convention for four years based around it. 
Side note: imagine if I had channeled the hyperfocus of almost a million words of fanfiction into an American OFMD con instead. We could have made magic :( I did consult with Our Con Means Death though so I am at least a teeny tiny bit of that one!
I did not like the way Steven ended… but I do respect the story they were telling and think they told it well.
I’m still sad about it. Steven is still one of my most beloved, it will always be beautiful and great to me, but that experience did and does sully my memories. There is so, so, so, SO much more good than bad from being in that fandom, and I cherish it. And I hope, if you’re having this experience with OFMD right now, that you’ll find similar comfort.
But, like I said at the top, “it’s okay to not like something but that’s not the same thing as it being bad” has been belabored already by people better at writing about it than me. I just had the incredible privilege to remember my brush with lower case T trauma and having that experience in my last REALLY big deal fandom. That’s why I had been so extra anxious about being disappointed. Because it happened to me before. It helped so much to connect those two.
So the finale happens, and it’s actually about twelve hours of me going from “eh, rushed but fun, whole season was great” to “THIS MAYBE IS THE BEST SHOW OF ALL TIME, ACTUALLY!”
BECAUSE THIS SHOW MADE ME CRY OVER IZZY FUCKING HANDS!!!!
They literally told me this was the story they were telling this season. “Men can change” “The end  of piracy” “Ed leaving Blackbeard behind (ish).”
As for me? I didn’t get an apology for the fish. Instead, I got “Sorry I was a dick.” “You weren’t a dick. Life’s a dick.”
Just… fuckity BAM. THREE FUCKING SENTENCES resolving that fight. Saying so much in so little.
In real life, should these two men have an actual conversation about this shit? Sure!!! But that’s not how OFMD tells its stories!
It works in symbolism. It works in vibes. It works in an hour’s worth of content into each half-hour episode, and for how much lamenting I have done about the pacing, I would prefer that 100x to having to stretch it out too much.
I have said since March 24, 2022 that OFMD wields anachronism as a weapon. First and foremost, it’s fucking funny, but in addition to that, it’s stating clearly: “This is a fantasy world. This is not real history. This show is about romance (and so much more than that), and the rest is just VIBES!!!”
Sometimes vibes can be historical accuracy. Sometimes vibes can be true emotional poignancy. Sometimes vibes can be Ed finding his sunken leathers in the sea, changing underwater somehow, and coming out of the ocean like the Birth of Fucking Venus, because water and rebirth and mermaids and shit is all very prominent this season. And ALSO, and this is very important! BECAUSE IT LOOKS FUCKING COOL!
I don’t want to do much real Izzy meta here. It’s been said by others, and better than me. But it was telegraphed and it was symbolic – he was the paragon of Traditional Piracy in season 1, for goodness’ sake, and Traditional Piracy is Toxic Masculinity, and he was a part of Blackbeard and Ed had to leave Blackbeard behind (yknow, ish), and he got this ABSOLUTLEY FUCKING LOVELY! storyline about appreciating what a (queer) community can do, and god fucking shit fucking dammit… most of all, best of all (for me), was Buttons landing on Izzy’s grave at the end. Men can change. And Izzy DID!!! He did it for Ed. For love. For community. I am puzzled by “it’s fucked up to use Izzy to further Ed’s storyline” because… this was Ed’s season, in the way that season 1 was Stede’s. And Ed cannot be removed from piracy as a whole (neither can Stede!) so to have this old, set in his ways, coded-queerphobic character blossom to the point he can give this gift to Ed and to piracy… idk man. I just find it so fucking beautiful.
It is okay not to like what they did. It’s okay!!! It’s okay, and it’s okay to mourn, and while it’s not okay to do [insert vile behavior here], it’s okay to carefully examine what you think is “bad writing” vs “what you would have preferred to happen” and give good-faith, textually-based criticism on that.
But I want to remind you over and over and over again, this show works on vibes. It tells its stories leaving many, many, many gaps. There are many things I would have liked to see, and y’know what? I would have told the Izzy story differently. I would have personally done it differently. But it’s not my show! It’s not my show, and I am humbled and delighted to remember that, and to appreciate Our Flag Means Death for what it is and not what it isn’t.
Other words have been written better than I could about the 18 months between seasons 1 and 2 and what that does to us as rabid fans with expectations of how things will go. Millions and millions and millions of words have been written about OFMD, fictional and non, and that is going to color our expectations and experience. We had built it up SO MUCH in our minds and along the way I think some of us forgot (INCLUDING ME!!!) that it is first and foremost about Vibes.
The vibes of Izzy’s death are about rebirth and forgiveness and leaving traditional piracy behind. And he got to die in Ed’s arms, knowing (HAPPILY!) that he had been wrong, and giving Ed the gift of letting him know he is loved, and being a part of something. We had a funeral but we also had a wedding. The only constant is change. Men, piracy, Blackbeard; it all changes. And Izzy found peace in that.
Before my last point, I want to @ myself on things I felt versus realizing in the end it is (I will say it until I’m blue in the face) about vibes.
· I was convinced they left Buttons’ transformation ambiguous because they wanted to leave room for it not having been real. NO!!! It is real, until they decided it isn’t. Magic in the OFMD universe? Fucking why not!!! IT’S SYMBOLIC!!! IT’S IMPORTANT TO ED’S STORYLINE AND THE CENTRAL THESES OF THE SHOW!
· I was unhappy, and still am a little, about the Polycule Situation, but now that I realize Oluwande is Zheng’s Stede… I am less so. The Zheng : Auntie :: Ed : Izzy vibes, btw? Fuckin immaculate.
·        Obviously they touched on Stede/Ed’s “killing people trauma” but I’d reallyyyy like Stede to address it, and even though I think Ed’s is left on a very satisfying note, I’d like him to dip a bit more into it as well. But if they don’t, oh well! It’s not like they ignored it, they just didn’t have a Deep Dive like I Wanted Them To!
· They didn’t deal with Ed throwing Stede’s shit away. They just ignored it! Stede started to collect new trinkets, and I believe that was as much about giving the audience back the old feeling of the Revenge as it was anything important (not to say it wasn’t also important thematically!!!). Just like Ed going back to his leathers is both Extremely Important thematically and about putting Taika back in the leathers because that’s what Blackbeard should be wearing for the epic final scenes for the sake of visually keeping the show consistent. That’s Blackbeard’s uniform.
· Stede’s frilly little outfits my beloved. God I hope they give him back some of his frippery in season 3. I think they will re: cursed suit BUT his journey this season was about something else, so!
· Ed’s stupid little non-profit non-apology, oh my god. It was so funny. And there is a transition from eps 5 to 6 where Ed is back in his leathers and the crew is more comfortable around him. They didn’t have to have him do a Real Apology, it’s implied it was all settled. What was the timeline? A day? DOESN’T MATTER, BABY, VIBES!!!
· Lots more, I’m sure, but now that I’ve tried to let it all go, I’m remembering less of what I wanted and appreciating what I got!
And, last point here, I think it is also very very very important to remember that a lot of people are normal about this show. In fact, WAY more people are normal about this show than aren’t. And that is EXTREMELY! IMPORTANT!!! because otherwise it wouldn’t be profitable and we all know what would happen then. We are the core of it, to be sure. Without word of mouth that stems from our intensity, this show would not be NEARLY as successful as it is. I truly, truly believe that.
But.
Do normies need deeply emotional discussions dissecting the central relationships? No. What normies need is Ed and Stede running dramatically toward each other on the beach and kissing. And I am happy, so fucking happy, to realize that’s what I need too. I’ve got fanworks for the rest.
I love this fucking show and this fucking fandom and its fucking creators so much. Fuck.
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obsessedelusional · 1 year
Text
Your Own Little Secret
parings ✦ eddie x reader
summary ✦ Chrissy asks a favor of you which somehow leads to you forming a secret relationship with Eddie Munson. When you two make it official, you decide it’s time to make it public.
authors note ✦ first time writing smut so hopefully it’s not terrible lol appreciate any feedback or reblogs
masterlist
The last three weeks of your life were spent entangled in Eddie’s web. It all started when Chrissy asked if you could meet him the woods to pick up her weekly pickup from none other than Eddie Munson. It came to a surprise to you when she confided in you that she smoked, even more of a surprise that it happened so often. She never gave off that type of vibe but you felt honored she trusted you enough to let you in on her little secret. So you reluctantly agreed which lead you to having your own little secret; Eddie.
Chrissy’s mother picked her up early from school when she had plans to meet Eddie out in the woods after cheer practice. A quick phone call lead to you meeting him in the woods. You had just left the gymnasium where cheer practice was held still in your practice cheer shorts and school branded t-shirt. Walking through the forest on a small dirt path. You had never been back here before, this area which had a reputation where students would disappear to hookup with each other. Or exchange cash for weed, apparently.
As you walk down the unfamiliar path all you can think about is how your on your way to buy weed. Your mind races, slightly terrified but Chrissy reassured you she’d done this 100 times and there was absolutely nothing to worry about. Expecting to see Eddie when the path opens up to a clear area of the forest. Only a few metal tables sat in the center. Unsure of what to do you sat down at one, looking around for any sign of him. The sound of leaves being stepped on startles you.
“Not the cheerleader I was expecting to see out here.” Eddie says from behind you, your nerves growing. He quickly walks up behind you and sits right next to you, an unsure smile on his face.
Uncomfortably laughing your hands resting in front you, “Chrissy sent me in replacement. Her mom picked her up early so she couldn’t make it. Said I could drop it off at hers on my way home. I have cash, she said twenty would be enough, is it enough?” You notice Eddie staring all while you physically can’t shut up. He must of noticed how anxious you are because his hands rest with yours. “Sorry I don’t know why I’m rambling.”
“Are you okay? You seem nervous.” He smiles causing you to smile back. Pulling away to start rummaging through the small metal tin he brought with him.
“Just slightly terrified.”
“Of?” He asks curiously, trying to read you.
“You and this whole situation.”
“Me?” He gasps grabbing his heart, pretending to be upset. Immediately you start to profusely apologizing thinking you actually hurt his feelings. Once he realizes how worked up you got he bursts out into laughter. “I’m just givin’ ya shit.”
You roll your eyes in response, slapping his shoulder. He winches like he’s so much pain, pain spreads across his face. “I’m not falling for your theatrics again.”
“Fine,” he sighs giving up on his little show. A few moments of silence fall between you two. “So she want her regular?”
“Yes, Eddie.”
“And she knows my name?” He sounds genuinely surprised.
“Of course I do.”
“That’s crazy.”
“My first day at Hawkins, my freshman year. I approached you and asked you where the office was and you so kindly escorted me. Of course I remember you.”
“Then you said you’d see me around. I never saw you around.” He sighs dramatically.
“Thats the same day I met Chrissy. We’ve been inseparable since. Sorry.” You genuinely feel bad it’s been two years since you last spoke to Eddie. It’s not like you didn’t think of him from time to time. He was constantly making a scene where ever he went, couldn’t help but notice him. Couldn’t help but admire how he was so authentically himself, never cared who was around. Also didn’t hurt that he was easy on the eyes. So when he was flaunting around the cafeteria you’d always take that opportunity to stare. Plus on several occasions you’d get Jason to back off.
“It’s fine. You can make it up to me now.” He smiles softly pulling you out of your own thoughts.
“How so?”
“Let me take you out.” He tries so hard to read you reaction.
“Really?”
“I mean unless you don’t want too.” When you didn’t instantly say yes he wanted nothing more than to disappear.
“I do.”
“You do?” Eddie can’t believe what he’s hearing.
“Yeah.” You smile. Eddie jumps up from his seat and starts cheering.
“Sorry that was lame.”
“No it wasn’t.” You laugh.
After a few dates around town and you two were attached. Everyday after cheer practice he’d be waiting for you, stood outside his van. You’d run up and engulf him in a hug. His hands never failing to find their way to your ass. Seeing you in those cheer shorts drove him crazy. When Friday rolled around and you’d show up to school wearing that cheer uniform, it would drive Eddie absolutely nuts. He’d watch from afar so turned on counting down the minutes till he could have you all to himself.
Today was no different when he picked you up after the football game claiming that they weren’t his scene hence why he wasn’t there to watch you cheering. It was late and knowing that you didn’t have long before your parents would be calling asking where you were. You two wasted no time. As soon as you climbed into his passenger seat, his hands were all over you. Roaming every inch of your body. You pull away momentarily only to move to the back.
Eddie laid down to which you quickly straddle him. His hand slipped under your skirt, through your underwear and between your folds. “So fucking wet for me.”
“For you.” You purr, letting your self grind down on his hand. “But I want to please you.” He didn’t argue, watching closely as you slowly lowered your self. You unzip his pants, he dick already hard trapped in his jeans. Palming it through the thin layer of his boxers. Eddie’s whole body tenses under your touch. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to this. Having you to himself in the most intimate way possible.
You pull his boxers down revealing his large member. Using your hand to pump him, precum slipping out of his tip. Eddie groans under your touch, giving you the confidence you need to give a sweet kiss to his tip before devouring it. Sucking up and down, Eddie’s hands finding their way to the back of your head pushing down. You gag and push up, spitting the salvia building up at the back of your throat on his member before going back at it.
He doesn’t want it to stop but he needs it to stop other wise he’ll be coming in your mouth. Which he wouldn’t mind but he wanted desperately to be inside you. He lifts your face and pulls you closer to kiss you, making out for several moments. Your tongues fighting for dominance. “I need you now.” You murmur, pulling down your panties. Aligning his cock with you cunt, sliding down slowly taking him all in.
“Fuck.” Eddie moans, his voice raspy. You start riding him, up and down. Grinding on him, his hands slip under your shirt caressing your tits. You take the hint and remove your cheer shirt exposing your chest. Pulling you closer he takes your nipple into his mouth, the other one being fondled. You become a moaning mess under his touch. The sound of your nipple leaving his mouth makes a popping sound.
Eddie comes to realization he’s not gonna last much longer but he’s a gentleman so obviously you need to come first. He helps you switch positions, pulling his pants all the way off and now he’s on top. You can’t help but whine when his cock leaves your hole. Doesn’t take long before he slams his cock back between your folds, you cry out in pleasure. His fingers start rubbing your clit as he picks up the pace. “How does that feel princess?”
Your lack of response tells him everything he needs to know. He circles your clit over and over again, the feeling of your pussy tightening on his dick let’s him know it’s near. Doesn’t take long before your climaxing. Shortly after that he’s pulling out and cumming on your stomach. He kisses you softly before reaching for a rag and cleaning you off. You get dress back in your uniform as you watch Eddie get back into his clothing.
Eddie lays next to you and you rest your head on his chest wrapping your arm around him waist and attempt to regain your composure. “You’re so fucking amazing. How’d I get so damn lucky?”
“Just being you.” You smile.
“Is that enough though?” He questions a change his tone is noted. Eddie decides in this moment to talk to you about what he’s been wondering for some time now.
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“I feel like your ashamed of me.” Eddie sighs.
“Why do you think that?” You ask saddened by his tone. You sit up so you can see his face.
“Because I only see you after school and never in front of your friends.”
“I just figured you wouldn’t want to be around them. I tried to invite you to games and stuff but you never seemed interested. I didn’t realize you wanted more than whatever this is. Part of me thought you were ashamed of me.” You explain.
“What is this?” Eddie asks the question he’s been dreading.
“What do you want us to be?” You ask pushing it back onto him.
“I want you to be my girlfriend.” He admits.
“Are you gonna ask me?” You smile because you’ve been waiting for this moment.
“Are you going to say yes?” He’s ask.
“I dunno guess you’re gonna have to ask to find out.” You shrug your shoulders, trying your best not to be giddy with excitement.
“Will you be my girlfriend?” He asks, shyly.
“Yes of course,” you beam, “I thought you’d never ask me.”
“If I known how you felt I would’ve asked sooner. Plus I’d never be ashamed of you.” You push your self up and kiss him. Your phone starts to ring bringing you out of your moment with Eddie. You pull away groaning annoyed.
“Who is it?” Eddie ask.
“My mom.” You quickly answer and let her know you’ll be home soon. As soon as you hang up, “Can you take me home, Eds?”
“Of course, princess.”
The next day rolls around, you arrive early to school eager to speak with Chrissy. You find her and ask, “Can I talk to you?”
“Yeah of course, what’s up?” She smiles.
“Like alone. I need your help.” You mutter. Her face fills with concern as she follows you down the hallway. As soon as you two were alone she looks to you waiting for you to speak.
“What’s up?” She asks again, her curiosity killing her.
“Ya know how that one time I went to pick up weed for you from Eddie?”
“Yeah.” She nods.
“We’ll we’ve been kind of hanging out since and last night he asked me out like officially and I said yes.” The biggest smile grows on her face causing you to be confused.
“Finally.” She smiles, grinning ear to ear. Pulling you into a hug.
“What do you mean finally?” I ask still being consumed by her hug.
“It was a set up.” She laughs.
“What?”
“I caught you constantly checking him out and I know him from buying. So I brought you up in front of him to see his reaction and he got all flustered. Told me some story about you asking for help on your first day, been smitten with you since.” You’re shocked at all this new information but not upset in the slightest since it lead to you dating Eddie.
“Eddie knew?”
“No. It was all me,” She giggles, “What did you need help with then?”
“I thought originally he didn’t want to be public with because of me being friends with all the popular people. So I never bothered him about being public with him which made him think I was ashamed of him which obviously I’m not. I could never be. I just don’t know what to do. I want him to know I’m not ashamed. I feel like I need to make some public display of affection.” Chrissy cuts you off.
“Ask him to the dance in front of everyone.”
“But shouldn’t boys ask girls?” You ask, some what nervous at the thought of doing that.
“It’ll be prefect. It’s Sadie’s, girls ask boys. We can make you a sign and everything. Do it at lunch! Kiss him in front of everyone. Let everyone know he’s yours.” She squeezes you shoulders, getting more excited as she thinks of everything you need to do and how she can help you.
“That sounds like a great idea.” You smile nervously. She grabs your hand and drags you to the art class room.
You nervously shake waiting for Eddie to show up into the lunch room. Chrissy stands near by cheering you on giving you reassuring thumbs up. You glance her way and she points to the entrance where Eddie is entering.
Chrissy presses play on the speaker she brought, the Lord of The Rings music she found online and had absolutely no idea it was accurate it starts to play. Eddie looks over to where the music came from seeing Chrissy who nods in your direction, he gaze follows and sees you standing there holding the sign you made with Chrissy’s help.
It reads ‘You shall not pass… Unless you go to Sadie’s with me.’ Another thing you found online that meant nothing to you but knew it meant something to Eddie. He talked about this book several times, you we’re confident he’d love it.
Eddie’s confusion quickly turns into happiness when he realizes what is happening. A small crowd starts to form as you ask, “Do you want to go to Sadie’s with me?” You say loud and proud when you see the smile on his lips, he approaches only a few inches away from you.
“Yes,” He grins. You drop the sign and grab his face pulling him down to your level give him the biggest kiss. It takes him a moment, because he’s probably in shock, to kiss you back but once he does he melts into your touch.
You’re the one to pull away when you realize people are cheering for you two. You look to Chrissy whose cheering the hardest, like her plan came to fruition. You grab Eddie’s hand and people start to disperse. Chrissy approaches you two, “Thank you.” You say giving her a quick hug.
“What?” Eddie asks.
“I’ll explain later. I’m gonna sit with Eddie today and his friends.” You let Chrissy know before leading Eddie to where he usually sat at lunch. His friends watch in awe as you sit down next to Eddie.
“What?” You laugh.
“We didn’t believe him.” Dustin says, shock still evident. You look over to Eddie who looks as happy as he can be, you squeeze his hand tightly before speaking.
“Better believe it. You’re gonna see so much more of me.”
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void-wolfie · 11 months
Text
Seventy-Two
summary: a little arguing and some bad memories push you into a panic attack, good thing Tara's there to help you through it.
pairing: Tara Carpenter x gn!Reader
words: 1.3k
tw: some angst, some fluff... mentions of abuse, (very brief) mentions of drugs/alcohol, descriptions of panic/anxiety attacks
a/n: apparently I'm back on my angst train lol. I'm not a professional so apologies if this isn't completely accurate. Briefly based this on my own experiences and some light research.
*if anything here may be a trigger for you, please don't read
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You set your motorcycle helmet in your locker, grabbing out the few textbooks you'd need for the day and slamming the locker door shut.
"Where've you been?"
You jumped a little, not having expected the shorter girl to be on the other side of the locker door.
"Hi, Tara. Good morning to you too. Oh, I'm fine thanks for asking," You snarked, disregarding the girl and heading towards your first class.
She sighed, you two played this little game too often. Out in public, it was sideways glances and off-the-cuff remarks. She only ever got to see the real you when you were alone.
Right now, there were eyes everywhere; students and teachers alike all crowding the halls, trying to get to classes. She wouldn't get anything out of you here.
She grabbed you by the arm and yanked you into an empty classroom, making sure to shut the door behind you.
"Anyone ever tell you, you're tenacious." You smirked, looking around the empty classroom in boredom. Turning back around, you noticed the less-than-enthused look on her face.
"Anyone ever tell you, you're annoying."
"Actually you, every time we talk,"
You didn't take the jab to heart; she was just worried and stressed.
"Where've you been?" she asked again, her calm demeanor slipping away.
"Awe, do you actually care for me, princess?"
She huffed, rubbing her eyes with her fingers, something she often did when annoyed. Her patience was running thin, and classes hadn't even started yet.
"I've been trying to text you. Wes told me your dad had to bail you out for drug charges, then you go M.I.A. for two weeks and come back looking like you had the shit beat out of you."
"Yeah, well what else did Wes tell ya?"
You didn't exactly like Wes. He wasn't terrible but his nose was always stuck in someone else's business, which irritated the living hell out of you.
That, plus the fact you couldn't help but be jealous over their relationship. You know you shouldn't be, after all, they're just friends. But nothing ticked you off quite like Wes following Tara around like a lost puppy dog for everyone to see, while your relationship with the girl only existed behind closed doors.
"He told me your dad looked mad, like seriously pissed off." She took a few steps closer, getting into your personal space, not that you minded. You flinched slightly as her hands cupped your face, her thumb lightly tracing your black eye. "Did he do this to you, your dad?"
Despite the voice in your head screaming to finally admit it, to tell the whole world about the shit he puts you through, you just couldn't do it. You shook your head no, quickly wiping at the tears that threatened to fall.
You pulled yourself away from her, stepping further into the classroom to try and get some space.
"Then who did?"
"It doesn't matter."
"Have you looked in a mirror, you look like shit. Of course, it matters."
"Just leave it alone, Tara."
She wouldn't understand, you barely even did yourself. You just couldn't turn him in.
The man may be an abusive asshole and borderline alcoholic, but he's still your dad. For every terrible memory, there was a good one.
Sure, he'd beaten you to a pulp, hit you countless times before, and who even knows how much therapy you'd need one day. But he'd also bought you your first motorcycle, taught you how to do oil changes and engine repairs, he helped you prepare for softball tournaments and school projects.
It was all just so conflicting.
"y/n?"
You were so lost in your thoughts you barely noticed the tightness in your chest or the way your fingernails dug into the skin of your palms, almost drawing blood. You were lost in your memories trying to figure out where it all went wrong.
You were completely overwhelmed. Your entire world was crumbling down around you. It felt like you were drowning with no end in sight.
You yanked your backpack off, then your jacket, gripping the desk in front of you as you tried to figure out how to breathe again.
"y/n?"
She'd never seen you like this before. You were always so strong, so guarded. And yet here you were, looking the most vulnerable she'd ever seen you.
"I- I can’t-" you stumbled over your words, not sure how to form anything coherent with the dizziness in your head and tightness in your chest.
You sat down on the floor, leaning your back against the teacher’s desk as the world spun in front of you.
Tara recognized that look, she'd seen it in Sam countless times before. You were having a panic attack.
"Shit."
She dropped her bag, getting down on the ground next to you, careful not to crowd you in case it only made it worse.
"Hey, you’re good at math, right?"
You looked at her a bit puzzled but nodded nonetheless. What the fuck does math have to do with anything right now?
"Ok, what's six plus four?"
"T-Ten." You wheezed out an answer, still focusing on trying to get your breathing under control.
"Good, now what's nine times three?"
She could tell you were still overwhelmed, not really focused on her at the moment. Your eyes seemed dazed as they darted around the room.
"Hey," She grabbed your hand gently, interlacing your fingers, "focus on me, ok?"
That seemed to work, grabbing your attention, "What's nine times three?"
"...Twenty-seven,"
She was doing her best to stay calm, even if the sight of you hurting was killing her inside. But she'd done this before, she knew what she was doing... well, mostly.
The research she'd done over the years rang out in her head. Stay calm, get them to slow their breathing. Make your own breathing relaxed, keep it slow and even-paced, and theirs will follow suit... Get them to focus on something else for the time being... If things get worse, call for help...
"Good, and what about seven times eight?"
"...Fifty-six,"
"Five times eleven?"
"Fifty-five,"
Now she had your attention. You didn't notice but your breathing had started slowing down and your fists weren't clenched as tight. You were starting to relax a bit.
"Ok, what about forty-five divided by three?"
"Fifteen."
"And sixty divided by five?"
"Twelve,"
"Good," you were finally calm again, mostly anyways, "want me to keep going?"
You were exhausted, you felt a little better, not great, but better. Your head didn't feel like it was going to explode anymore, and your heart wasn't beating out of your chest.
You shook your head no, not wanting to do any more math. You patted the spot next to you, which Tara happily filled, glad to see you weren't hyperventilating anymore.
You closed your eyes and rested your head on her shoulder.
"So, am I officially smarter than a fifth grader?"
She rolled her eyes, not that you could see that, too busy cuddling into her side, "not a chance,"
"Your just jealous I'm better at my times tables than you are,"
She didn't have to look down at you to know you were smirking. But she did anyway, finding it adorable with the way your eyes were still closed and you were leaning into her.
It was almost comical, she thought, looking down at you. The big scary drug dealer with a fuck-around-and-find-out attitude and a deadly glare cuddling into the popular girl who has the personality (and height) of a teddy bear. If anyone else at school saw this, they probably would've thought they were hallucinating.
She scoffed, "that's so not true."
"What's nine times eight?"
There was a moment of silence, in which you couldn't help but smile a little brighter.
"I hate you."
"Seventy-two."
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