#Friday was also weird because I had to go to the office…

[obstinaterixatrix]

Ok I want to put the order in for the cake this weekend just to make sure Everything’s Squared Away

[eddiesghxst]

LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACCIÓN - AN EDDIE MUNSON X READER AU

credit for cute lil cut off divider: @cafekitsune

————

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: eddie munson x pornstar!reader

summary: eddie is short on rent this month and needs quick cash, luckily he stumbles upon an ad for casting in an adult film and finds himself shooting a porno with you

contains: strangers to lovers trope, drug and alcohol use, mentions of smoking, awkward situations, oral (f and m receiving), p in v (unprotected — be safe pls), mentions of people being judgemental of readers line of work, mentions of anal, slightly exhibitionism, lots of smut, a sliver of mechanic!eddie, and eddie being the charming loser he's always been <3

word count: 13.5k (i am so fucking sorry omg)

-masterlist-

Eddie might be way in over his head.

Eddie’s been naked in front of groups of people before (the high school boy's locker room is a scary place to be, honestly), but never in those awful days of forced physical education was Eddie’s dick the center of everyone’s attention.

It’s weird, no doubt about it, standing at the front of a conference room with a table full of producers and writers and whatnot just… ogling Eddie’s naked frame.

“Can you lift your dick, please? So we can see your balls.”

Yeah. This is definitely going at the top of Eddie’s ‘weird things I’ve done for money’ list.

Still, Eddie reaches down and presses his dick up against his lower stomach to give his audience an unrestricted view of his balls.

Jesus.

“Okay, you can put your clothes back on.”

Honestly, Eddie wouldn’t be in this situation if it weren’t for Robert, the manager at Eddie’s job— well, old job. 

Robert had some kind of weird fucking vengeance out for Eddie. Maybe it was because Eddie came back high from, like, most of his lunch breaks, but should that really matter if Eddie still got the job done? How coherent do you have to be to organize music records by name? Not very fuckin’ much.

Robert disagreed, though, so he fired Eddie.

Robert was an asshole, though, and whenever Eddie would nicely warn him, ‘Hey, Rob, I’m gonna be out of town next Saturday,’ Robert would still fucking schedule him to close on that exact day! 

Good riddance.

Except now, Eddie’s short on rent for the month, which is why he’s found himself standing fully naked in a room full of adult filmmakers.

Eddie’s almost dropped out of this deal ten times by now. He wasn’t sure if he was keen on the idea of his bare, naked body being out for the entire world and future generations to see. But then Eddie thought about it, and, well, he’s got a pretty decent cock. It’s an average size, and it’s not weird looking or anything, and his balls don’t sag— and, like, isn’t his dick primarily the star of the show? Eddie Jr. could pass for a star, Eddie thinks, and so do the people looking at it right now. 

And he also really fucking needs the money, so. Porn it is.

Whatever.

Eddie could deal with it as long as he gets enough money to keep a roof over his head. Which reminds him— “Hey, uh, how much will I be getting paid, by the way?”

Eddie’s now fully clothed, car keys in hand, and ready to go now that he’s been dismissed, and he’s scratching the back of his neck as he waits for an answer.

One of the men at the table (Eddie thinks his name is Brian, but he’s not 100% sure) glances up at Eddie from the pile of papers he’d been sorting through, “Eight hundred for the booking and ten percent from the sales.”

Which, yeah, that covers Eddie’s rent. It also leaves a little bit of change in Eddie’s pocket, so “Sweet.” Eddie nods.

So, Eddie follows one of the assistants to her office, where she hands Eddie a file with the word SCRIPT written in bold and red letters, “Read over it, practice the lines a few times, do whatever you need to do to prepare for Friday.” She kindly smiles.

She’s sweet. Short, stout, and pretty, and she has these cute glasses that remind Eddie of a ladybug. Eddie takes the manila folder, bowing his head with a cheesy smile, “Thank you, Emily.” 

“So, will I be getting a costume? Do pornos still have those dramatic plots with, like, pirates and shit?” Eddie rambles as he cracks the folder open to take a gander.

Emily snorts, “Sure, but unfortunately, you’re not a pirate for this one,” Eddie glances at her and dramatically pouts, “You will be taking on the role of a neighbor. Pretty simple and easy, not much setup needed, but I’m sure you’ll see that when you read over the script.”

Eddie looked over the script as soon as he got in his van, and Emily was right: there’s not much setup at all. There’s a few cheesy lines, cliche porno shit that definitely gets skipped over, and then they go straight to fucking. Eddie tries to run his lines a few times, but then he fails miserably, so he ends up tossing the script in his passenger seat and making a mental note to look at it later.

How hard can it be?

Apparently pretty fucking hard.

It’s Friday, and Eddie’s a chaotic mess as he walks in through the doors of the film studio. He’d just spent the last 30 minutes in his van trying to practice his lines, but Eddie was never the greatest theater kid, and the lines wouldn’t stick, so he ended up smoking a joint to ease his nerves.

People are bustling around the room, calling out orders and setting up lights, mics, furniture— the whole mile. It’s an entire ordeal that Eddie has walked into, and for a second, Eddie forgets that he’s one of the actual stars when someone walks up to him and says, “You're the new talent?”

“Huh?”

“New talent. Are you the guy we’re filming today?”

Eddie glances around and catches a glimpse of a half-naked girl eyeing him from across the room as a lady fixes her hair for the cameraman. She’s pretty. Gorgeous, actually. Nice body and soft-looking skin that Eddie would like to sink his teeth into and leave pretty little marks.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m Eddie.”

“Good. You’re late.”

Shit. Eddie must’ve lost track of time while practically hacking up a lung in his hotboxed van.

The person drags Eddie to a vanity and nudges him toward the high chair, “You’ll get your hair and makeup done, then we should be rolling in about half an hour.” 

It’s jarring, really, seeing the amount of work that goes into the shitty raunchy films Eddie jacks off to, but it’s captivating nonetheless. Eddie can see the movement behind him through the vanity mirror, but he’s more focused on the pretty girl still posing for the camera. If that’s the girl Eddie will be working with, then this will be way easier than Eddie thought it would be because he’s already getting hard. Some might call it pathetic, but oh well.

“Hiya, hon! You the new talent?” A chirpy girl walks up behind Eddie, pearly white teeth and glossed lips working in tandem as she chews her gum and blows a quick bubble. She doesn’t wait for Eddie’s response as she digs her fingers into Eddie’s curly strands, tossing and gently pulling them about to see what she’s working with. 

Her name is Nicki. She’s friendly and very talkative; Eddie comes to learn, because for the majority of the time that she’s working on Eddie’s hair, her mouth is running nonstop. Eddie doesn’t mind, though; honestly, it helps to take his mind off of whatever the fuck he’s gotten himself into.

Emily, the assistant from earlier, walks up to the vanity, her cute ladybug glasses slipping down her nose as she steps into Eddie’s view— and Eddie is happy to see a familiar and kind face. “Will you be needing a fluffer?”

Eddie blinks, eyes fluttering when the hairstylist dusts his bangs over his lashes, “Uh— a what now?”

Nicki loudly pops her gum as she shakes a can of hairspray, “A fluffer, honey. Someone to jack you off and get you ready for the scene.” 

Eddie’s eyes widened for a split second, and he made the mistake of glancing over at the girl who was still modeling across the room. Her tits are out now, and they’re perfect, and she catches Eddie’s eyes for the second time, and it makes his already stiffened cock stir within his pants.

Eddie shakes his head as he looks back at Emily, his voice higher when he responds, “No, I uh… I think I’m good.”

Which, duh. Eddie's dick is practically breaking the seams of his jeans because of the pretty girl, and it’s only getting worse because now she’s walking toward him dressed in a white robe. “You must be Eddie.”

Eddie’s surprised you know his name, but then he figures, obviously, you must know his name given the fact that you’re about to let him swing his dick near you. “That’s me,” Eddie smiles, “You must be… I’m sorry nobody’s told me anything.” He awkwardly laughs.

You nod with a shrug and tell him your name, “Is this your first time filming?” You ask.

Eddie nods, “Is it that obvious?” He nervously asks. You shrug, “Most guys in the industry need more than a pair of tits to get that hard.” You nod towards Eddie’s crotch— and oh god. How embarrassing! She knows you were checking her out!

“No need to be embarrassed though, Eddie. Pretty soon, you’ll be shoving your cock down my throat, so.”

Eddie’s cock may have gotten harder from those words alone.

“A rookie? Seriously, Don?”

Your makeup is being done, so you don’t see how your manager rolls her eyes at you. “When I said I wanted someone fresh, I didn’t mean never-been-under-the-camera fresh.” 

The makeup artist finishes with your touch-ups, and you take the opportunity to turn to Don and glare at her, “He doesn’t know what he’s doing, Don.”

The older lady waves a dismissive hand, “He’ll do just fine, babe,” she deadpans. You shake your head, turning to look at the man of the hour. He’s attractive; you’ll give him that. Tall, pretty curly hair, sweet brown eyes, a panty-dropping voice. Sure, he’s attractive, okay. But he’s got no clue how to do this type of thing. Clearly— I mean, you’re literally watching him gaze down at the dildos that have been lined up for you as if he’s never seen one in his life— which you doubt. If he knew how to find an adult filmmaking studio, then he’s definitely seen some fucking dildos.

You suppress a laugh when he accidentally drops a glass dildo, turning back to your manager as you ignore his chorus of apologies to the staff, “My case in point.”

Don fails to hold back a laugh, “So he’s a little off the walls,” she shrugs, “He’s cute though. And his dick is nice. Trust me.”

And, well, she’s not wrong.

Don’s never been one to lie without reason, so unfortunately, Eddie’s cock is nice. Pretty, even. Which is weird because after some time being in this industry, the thrill of a nice-looking cock has gotten lost on you because they practically all look the same— just different shades of colors, really.

But Eddie’s cock is nice in the sense that it’s real. He’s not shot up with steroids to make it overly veiny and big or cleanly shaved or any of that superficial camera-ready shit. No, Eddie is natural. He’s got neatly trimmed curly hairs across his pelvis that smell like his body wash when you nuzzle your nose against it, and he’s big enough to wrap your hand around, but you know the second he pushes inside of you, it will be a nice stretch. He’s cut, and he has a slight curve to the left, and he’s so sensitive his cock jumps when you tap the pearly white drop that leaks from his tip. You giggle, shuffling forward on your knees as you stroke him.

You’re already done with the opening scene, finally. Eddie couldn’t remember any of his lines, so it took a lot longer than it should’ve, but you think it was worth it either way because the way Eddie moans when you finally wrap your lips around his tip is the prettiest sound you think you’ve ever heard.

“F-fuck,” He quietly curses, hips shifting as you swallow more of him. He sinks a slightly shaking hand into your hair, gently cupping your head as you work your mouth over him. Your eyes flutter to gaze up at him, and your stomach flutters at the cocky grin he gives you. “You’ve got such a good little mouth on you, sweetheart. Gonna let me fuck it?”

You hum and nod as best as you can with his cock in your mouth, and he hums, “Open up for me, baby.”

You shift on your knees, finding a comfortable position for the action before blinking up at Eddie, indicating you’re ready. Eddie’s hands are steady and certain as he cups both sides of your head, holding you still as he draws his cock out once before slowly thrusting in until your throat tightens around his tip.

He fills your mouth so perfectly, just enough to where you won’t get bored, but you also won’t get an overly aching jaw, and you can’t wait to feel him inside you. Can’t wait to feel how his cock twitches when he first nestles deep in your walls or how much better the sounds he makes will be.

It’s a nice feeling, having Eddie fuck your mouth, and you usually don’t care much for shots like this because most of the time, it’s either underwhelming or overwhelming, but Eddie fucks your throat in a sense that’s dirty yet so caring. He’s spewing out filthy praises, and you're drooling onto his balls, but he’s looking at you with these soft brown eyes and caressing you so gently you might quiver. Fuck, you really wanted to hate him.

Behind the camera, the director makes a motion for you to cut to the next action, but since your back is to them, Eddie is the one that sees it and gently coaxes you off from his cock, cooing when you let out the smallest whine that only he can hear. He smiles, thumb running beneath your swollen lip to catch the strings of spit and cum, “What? You liked having me down your throat, sweet girl?”

You mewl, pressing your chin into his palm as you nod.

"Yeah. Want it, please?" You whisper. God, you didn’t expect to be fucked out within the first scene. "Aw, maybe next time, princess. You can keep me warm as long as you'd like."

It’s almost embarrassing, how much you like the sound of that and how it makes your tummy flip, but you don’t have much time to think about it because Eddie’s ushering you up from the floor to climb onto the couch and straddle his lap. 

You’re both bare now, and when Eddie had first taken his shirt off, you wanted nothing more than to run your hands down his graffitied chest, but you were too busy sinking to your knees. But now you have the chance, and boy, do you fucking take it.

You marvel as you coast your hands across Eddie’s body, fingertips gliding through fields of inked stories and vast skin. His breath hitches when you graze over his nipples, and his hips shift beneath you, wet cock slipping against your sticky folds. You whimper, grinding down onto him, and he curses as he grabs ahold of your hips. “Y’like them?” He sweetly asks, referring to his tattoos.

"Yeah," you nod, grinding down harder to have his cock nestled between your folds, his ruddy tip nudging your clit. “I can tell you all about them if you want.”

You giggle at his timing, but before you can respond, a director speaks up from the side, “Less talking, please.”

Eddie glances over your shoulder and salutes the man, “Roger that, sir.”

You can’t help but snort at his actions, but you’re quickly hushed when Eddie reaches down to paint his cock between your folds before lining himself up, “Go ahead and sit on it, baby.” He whispers.

You listen, nuzzling your face against his shoulder as you wriggle yourself down the length of his cock.

And god, you love being fucking right. The stretch is so good, better than you had imagined it to be, and you can’t help the high-pitched moan that slips from your lips when Eddie thrusts up into you. 

"O-oh. Oh fuck," You whimper. You’re practically boneless as Eddie fucks you, your entire body just draped over him as his hands dig into your ass to help bounce you on his cock. “Jesus fucking— you feel so good,” He pants, and you mewl, cunt clenching around his cock as he drills up into you. “You gonna cum for me, hm? Be my best girl and cum for me. I know you’ll sound so pretty.” He whispers.

Before you know it, you’re moaning out and writhing in Eddie’s hold, juices dripping down his cock and forming a sticky mess in the patch of curls at his base as you cum.

“Let’s have a shot from the back.” 

Your body feels weightless as you and Eddie change positions so you’re on all fours. You’re blinking through a hazy fog, and it feels so good. Eddie’s hands send chills up your spine as they grip your waist and tug you towards him. 

“Oh, baby, you’re shaking,” Eddie hums, running his hands over the fat of your ass, thumbs digging into the skin to spread you open. You’re so wet you can hear the sticky noise of your folds parting, and Eddie groans as he watches your pussy clench around nothing. “You open up so well for me, sweet girl.” 

Jesus.

You don’t get much of a warning before you feel Eddie lapping and sucking at your cunt, devouring you until you’re nothing but a mess of moans and quivering limbs.

Jesus Christ, that wasn’t in the fucking script. Half of the shit Eddie’s doing isn’t in the fucking script, and it's making your head spin.

God, who is this man?

You whimper his name, reaching a shaky hand back to grapple at his hair, and Eddie nuzzles his face deeper into your cunt, nose nudging your ass in a way that makes your toes curl. He’s good. He’s really good, you’ll give him that.

You and Eddie go at it for about an hour, switching positions and pausing every now and then to get a good shot of your cunt wrapped around Eddie’s cock, or Eddie’s tongue lapping over your clit or tits.

And it's fun doing this with Eddie.

Eddie is like a breath of fresh air. Most guys in this industry are stuck up and make things annoyingly serious, and most girls are either bitchy or just want to get it over with, which you don’t blame them for. 

But Eddie makes things feel so normal— like you’re just two best friends getting filmed having sex— because he keeps whispering tiny jokes to make you giggle. He tells you how pretty you sound and look, and he’s so incredibly clueless because he keeps leaning in and asking things like, “Is this, like, a good angle for the camera?” and “Should I maybe kiss you more?” and “Is it okay if I stop fucking you for a second? Because I’m about to blow.”

And all you can do is breathlessly moan and nod because he’s plunging himself so deep into you that it almost hurts, but it’s so good.

You’re so fucked out you barely even register Eddie’s words when he tells you he’s about to cum, but your body immediately reacts when he pats your hip, indicating for you to get ready.

You scramble down from the couch, limbs weighted from pleasure as you settle on your knees, batting your lashes up at Eddie as he towers over you, stroking his wet cock. Eddie rests a hand on your head, fingers grasping your hair to keep you still as he gazes down at you. You’re impatient, so you can’t help but let yourself sneakily lick the tip of his cock, and he grins, “It’s coming, precious girl. Stick your tongue out for me.”

You shuffle closer, sticking your tongue out as you eagerly await the taste of Eddie on your tongue— and when you get it, god, you never want it to stop. Everything about it is perfect: the way his face twists up, the way he tastes, the pretty moans he lets out. You want it on repeat.

You might buy this film just to relive it.

You take every last drop Eddie has to give you with a happy hum; a little bit catches your lip, and Eddie swipes it with his thumb before bringing it to his mouth and suckling. You whine, frowning and causing Eddie to laugh, “You got most of it, sweetheart. Can’t be too greedy, can you?”

It’s like you’re both in your own world. Only talking to each other and enjoying each other's bodies because Eddie just… it’s weird, but he makes the room go away. He makes things feel less performative— and maybe it’s just your hazy, blissed-out state of mind, but you think you might like Eddie.

You’re snapped from your trance when the director yells cut, and then everyone’s springing into action to tear down the set because another crew will be using it next. Eddie helps you stand on your wobbly legs, “You alright?”

You nod, “Great. You did good, by the way.”

Eddie leans forward and grabs your robe that had been pushed to the side. He smiles as he holds it open for you, “Thank you. You did pretty awesome yourself.” He responds as you slink your arms through the sleeves.

You turn to Eddie as you close your robe and tie it shut. Your assistant, Emily, hands Eddie a robe for himself, and he thanks her, curtly bowing his head as he grabs the plush article. “So,” Eddie starts as he slips on the robe. You both start walking towards the dressing rooms as he speaks, “Think I could make a career for myself here?” He asks. 

You halt at that, turning to Eddie with a confused look, “Is that… is that not why you���re here?” You ask.

Eddie shakes his head as he ties his robe, “Nah, I got fired from my job. Needed some cash for rent this month.” He explains.

Is it selfish to say you’re disappointed to hear this? If Eddie had been wanting to join this industry, you would’ve had the opportunity to work with him again. But maybe it’s more selfish to say you’re happy he isn’t joining this industry. Eddie becoming an adult film star would mean half of the time, he’d be fucking other people, and unfortunately, that idea alone makes your gut twist with jealousy.

You nod, pursing your lips as you fiddle with your fingers, “Well… would you be interested in this type of thing?” You try your best to sound casual about it, and you think it works because Eddie only shrugs again with a short hum, “I don’t know. Wouldn’t be opposed to it, I guess.”

Before you can respond, Emily calls your name, “Don needs to speak with you in the other room about your next shoot.”

You turn back to Eddie and try to commit his pretty brown eyes to memory, “I guess I’ll see you around, Eddie.” You smile. Eddie smiles back and does somewhat of a dramatic bow, and you snort as you walk off.

You glance over your shoulder as you walk with Emily.

“Could you do me a favor?” You ask her. Emily nods, and you take one last glance at Eddie before he disappears into the dressing room. 

“Get his number for me. And leave it in my purse, please.”

A couple of weeks have passed since Eddie made his big debut in the film world.

Eddie made a pretty penny from that film, enough to pay his rent and have some play money on the side. Thankfully, Eddie doesn’t have to scramble for cash this month again because he got a job at the mechanic shop downtown. It’s a lot of labor and a lot of hours, but the pay is good, and nobody gives a shit if Eddie comes back from lunch smelling like a dispensary, so.

Suck that, Robert.

However, Eddie’s still thoroughly surprised to see you sitting in the shop office when he returns from a quick smoke break. “Woah, funny seeing you here. Car problems?” He questions. Eddie tries not to think about the fact that he’s seen you completely bare before. Tries not to think of how he’d spent over an hour in your guts last month or how you swallowed his load like it was nothing. Eddie fails miserably.

You shake your head as you stand up from the leather couch in the office, grabbing your purse as Eddie walks closer to you, “No, actually, Lola’s doing great.”

Eddie cocks his head, “Lola?”

You nod, “My car.” You gesture out towards the window where your car is parked. Eddie makes an understanding noise as he nods. 

“I was actually hoping to talk to you.” 

Eddie pauses at that, confusion settling over his body as he looks at you. You’re beautiful, kind, soft eyes with soft, pretty lips that Eddie thinks about kissing when he goes to bed. Eddie points to himself with raised eyebrows, “Me?”

You nod again, “Yeah, about like… my job and stuff.”

Oh.

Ohhhh.

“Oh, shit, yeah, um,” Eddie glances around the office and nods, “Yeah, we can step out and talk, like, in my van, maybe?” He offers. Not because he’s, like, ashamed to talk about porn or something, most people watch it! But a few of the guys that work here are downright dipshits, and Eddie won’t hesitate to punch one of them if they say some sly shit about you or your job. And, well, Eddie would like to keep his job, so.

You don’t take offense to it, though; you just nod with your pretty smile and tell Eddie to lead the way.

Eddie’s van smells like weed, cologne, and a hint of whatever he had for lunch.

“Sorry,” Eddie mumbles as he clears off the passenger seat that’s filled with bottles of different drinks, rolling papers, food wrappers, and things of the like. “She’s seen better days.” 

You smile nonetheless, thanking him when he steps away and holds the door open for you. You hop into the seat, glancing around as Eddie shuts your door and jogs to the driver's seat.

He gets in with a heavy sigh, hair unruly from the wind, brown eyes wide and excited when he looks at you. “Hey.” He huffs with a smile, and there’s a piece of hair in Eddie’s bangs that’s sticking straight up. “Hey.” You giggle, reaching out to fix the rebellious strand. Eddie softly thanks you, and you swear you see a hint of pink dust across his cheeks.

He shifts in his seat, rubbing his hands against his thighs as he sighs again, “So… what’s up?”

God, he’s so cute. So incredibly weird and awkward and cute. He looks handsome in his navy blue coveralls, grease stains smeared across his torso, and some sneaky smudges on his neck. “You’re very hard to get ahold of, you know?” You tease.

Eddie’s face twists in confusion, “Huh?”

You shrug, distracting yourself by poking around at his dashboard, sifting through the CDs and tapes he has lying about. Eddie doesn’t stop you; he only watches, and you give him a cheeky smile. “My assistant got your number, right? But then you, like, never answered my calls.” You shrug as you flip through more of his things. You hear Eddie mumble something about needing a new cord for his home phone before he asks louder, " So, how’d you find me?”

God, he must think you’re a stalker or something. You didn’t really think that through, honestly.

You hum, “Just asked around a bit. You’re a bit of a hot commodity around here, by the way. Heard you started a cult? What’s that about?” 

Eddie’s eyes widen at your words, and you laugh, “Oh god. Jesus, no, I didn’t start a cult. I just,” he groans as he pinches the bridge of his nose, “I was just weird in high school.”

“You’re still weird.”

Eddie’s face falters at your words, but you smile as you add, “I like it.”

Eddie blushes again, but he turns to look away this time, and you think he’s the cutest thing you’ve ever set your eyes upon. He turns back to you with a shy grin, “Did you come here just to flirt with me?” He teases, wrapping a strand of his hair around his finger to twirl in a shy manner. “Maybe… but I also have a question.” You respond.

Eddie nods, “Shoot.”

You take a deep breath as you shift in your seat, “Well, uh, I wanted to ask if you maybe…” You glance at Eddie, who's expectantly awaiting your question, and your stomach twists with nerves. Why are you so nervous to ask Eddie for something you’ve already done before?

“Well, I’m doing a shoot tomorrow,” you finally begin, “And I just found out the guy they paired me with is, like, a total asshole— I’ve worked with him before, he’s just… awful,” You explain. “So, I was just… I don’t know; I was just wondering— hoping— you’d be up for it, maybe? To take the guy's place, I mean.”

You finish rambling and glance at Eddie as his eyes widen, “Oh, um. Like— like, film with you again?”

Eddie could leap for joy right now.

Not only are you, like, the cutest, prettiest, kindest fucking human being to ever grace this earth, but you’re sitting in Eddie’s van, chewing on your lip and asking Eddie to fuck you for the cameras again.

Eddie must’ve done something incredibly right in his past life.

“Oh!” Eddie starts, “ Um… yeah, I’d love to!” What? Weird, take that back. “No, I mean, like, not in a weird way. I just— I’d rather not let the asshole do it if I can do it.”

God, could Eddie sound any more pathetic?

Still, despite how dumb Eddie sounds, you smile and clasp your hands together, “Oh, are you sure? I know it’s last minute, and it’s not really the ideal task—” 

“Woah, wait. What do you mean not the ideal task?” 

Because literally, what do you mean? How could that not be the ideal task? And who made you think that fucking you isn’t the ideal task? If it’s that asshole you were supposed to work with, then Eddie has a few colorful things to say about and to him.

You shrug, fiddling with your fingers in your lap, “Nothing, I just know my job isn’t… you know, traditional or whatever. And you had only done it that one time because you needed it, so I get it if you’re, like, not in the mood to fuck on camera for a bunch of random people.” You ramble. Which, uh, no. You could not be further from the truth. Eddie would love to fuck you on camera for a bunch of random people. Hell, Eddie would love to fuck you under any consensual circumstance, if he’s being honest, so. Yeah, he’s pretty excited.

“No,” Eddie shakes his head, “No, I— I want to, really, I do.” Eddie nods.

Your unsure frown spreads into the prettiest smile before you reach across the center console to pull Eddie into the most bone-crushing, you-scented, chest-warming hug Eddie’s ever been given as you spew out a chorus of thank yous.

“I brought a copy of the script for you to look over so you’re not totally confused,” Eddie watches as you pull back to reach into your bag and pull out a manilla folder. “I usually like to color coordinate my scripts, so I did it for you too. The pink is me, and the red is you, and the specific actions they want us to do are in blue.” You point out. And Eddie thinks he might kiss you right now— you’re so fucking cute!

“Wow, thanks, um… I wish I were, like… good with these types of things, but I think you saw how majestic I am with scripts.” Eddie huffs out a laugh as he scratches the back of his neck. You smile, “I can help you— if you’d like.”

Oh, you’re trying to kill Eddie at this rate.

Eddie nods either way, even though he’s six feet underground and knocking at the fiery gates. “I would love that, actually. I finish work in about three hours if you’re free.”

Eddie definitely broke a handful of laws while driving home.

Since you offered to help Eddie with his lines, you both decided to meet at Eddie’s place. He gave you his address, told you how to get into the complex, and said see you later. Now, Eddie is ecstatic to see you, obviously, but Eddie can’t remember if his home looked normal or like a Walmart clearance aisle after black Friday, so he ran through multiple stop signs and red lights to get home before you showed up so he could clear things up.

He’s hustling through his apartment like a madman, picking up strewn clothes and cat toys before speeding through the few dishes he had in his sink. Honestly, Eddie’s apartment has seen worse days, so there’s not much cleaning he has to do, but he’s still stressed when he hears a knock on the door. 

Eddie doesn’t even like candles, but he lit one just in case there’s a smell he’s grown used to lingering about. Eddie just doesn’t want you to think he’s a slob. Because he isn’t. He just has an orchestrated chaotic lifestyle.

Eddie couldn’t be happier when he opened his door because there you were, beaming with a smile and a bag of takeout, and Eddie thought it wasn’t normal to be this soft for someone you’d basically just met.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Eddie dramatically bows with an extended hand to show the entrance of his small, homey apartment. You smile as you walk in, taking in your surroundings.

It’s nothing extraordinary, honestly. Eddie’s home is really just vomit of everything Eddie likes: favorite colors, favorite movies, favorite game characters, etc. It’s like Eddie’s brain exploded and painted itself all over the place. Eddie had a girlfriend many moons ago, and she changed things around to become more coordinated, so now it’s less of a shit show and more of an abstract museum sort of thing.

Whatever. Doesn’t matter anyway because you’re gasping and picking up the little roommate Eddie has. 

“Who’s this?” You coo at the little creature. You’re looking down at the furball as you scratch behind her ear, “That,” Eddie sighs, “Is the reason why I didn’t get your calls.”

You look up at Eddie, confusion written across your face. Eddie points across the room to the wall where his home phone hangs, except the wire is broken. “Little asshole chewed through the wire, and I’ve been slow to replace it. Her name is Banshee.”

The cat meows at the mention of her name, wide eyes blinking up at Eddie as you coddle her. She’s a fluffy cat with a black coat decorated with two white spots: one on her back and the other just behind her ear.

You hum, “So technically,” You drag, “It’s your fault.” You tease. You coo as you press your cheek to the tiny kitten, gazing up at Eddie with these soft eyes, “I don’t think you can blame this cutie for your laziness.” 

Eddie rolls his eyes, wills away whatever power he has to not kiss you, and gently takes the takeout bag from your hands so you have less to carry. “Fine then. Ask her what happened to the laces of my work shoes, too, since she’s so innocent.”

Eddie’s home is so… Eddie.

He’s got music and horror movie posters framed along his walls, cute little scary figurines randomly placed within his bookshelves, and there’s an overall smell of Eddie’s musk and the sandalwood candle he has burning. It’s cozy, a nice space for one person who enjoys their alone time, and he let you choose a record to play from his extensive collection, and he has the world's cutest little cat, so it’s safe to say you could spend an eternity in Eddie’s world.

“Shit, that wasn’t my line,” Eddie stresses. You smile as Eddie tosses the packet onto his coffee table and falls back onto the couch, “We’re wasting our time here, princess. I dropped out of theater for a reason.” He grumbles.

You sigh, tilting your head against the couch cushion as you gaze at Eddie, “You’re thinking too hard about it.” You say. “It’s a porno, not a Grammy-nominated film.” You point out.

Eddie snorts before giving a short shrug, “For the record, I think you could land a Grammy, sweetheart.” 

You roll your eyes, “Yeah, right. You don’t need to suck up to me, Eddie, you’re already gonna fuck me tomorrow.” You jokingly say.

Eddie waves you off and shifts into a more comfortable position. “So,” He starts, “What’s the asshole guy's deal?” 

Banshee has hopped onto the couch and made her way into your lap, tiny paws kneading the material of your jeans as she settles. You gently pet her as you glance at Eddie and shrug, “Not sure, he’s just a total dick,” You grumble. “I worked with him once last year, and he, like, told me I wasn’t the best or whatever— which, okay, I can totally understand,” You ramble, “I don’t think I’m, like, some sex god. I don’t expect to be everyone or anyone’s best fuck, but still! It just… it didn’t make me feel good, the way he said it.” You windedly explain. You distract yourself with the cute animal in your lap as you finish your explanation, “So, I asked my manager never to pair us again, but—” You shrug.

Next to you, Eddie shifts once more and scoffs. “He’s a fucking shitfaced liar, princess.”

You snort, playfully rolling your eyes, “Eddie—” “No, I’m serious. He’s a liar. Anybody who even gets the chance to touch you is a lucky fucker, okay? If anything, he probably begged your manager to let him work with you again.”

“You’re just saying that. I don’t need you to try and make me feel better, and it was so long ago anyway.” “Yeah, but that’s the thing, I’m not.”

You frown as you gaze over at Eddie, watching as he sits straight and looks at you with a serious gaze in his eyes. “I don’t know what’s up with that guy, maybe he was dropped as a baby too many times, but anybody with common sense and a properly functioning dick knows just how fucking amazing you are. End of discussion.”

And well, it’s pathetic how your chest warms at his words, but it does. And as Eddie goes on to ramble about his hectic week at work, you can’t help but let your mind spin with Eddie’s kind words until nothing is in your mind but the echoes of Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

Not many times has Eddie woken up with a girl in his home. Well, at least not a girl that he’s actually liked for more than a one-night stand or a shortly-lived fling.

After running the script for the last time, Eddie suggested putting on a movie and digging into the takeout you’d brought. The meal was delicious, and the movie you’d landed on was hilarious, but it’s hard to keep your eyes open on a full stomach, so when Eddie felt your head drop onto his shoulder, he couldn’t help but let his body sink into the couch and fall asleep too.

You’d woken up about an hour later and tried to make your escape quietly, but Eddie insisted you shouldn’t drive in such a sleepy state, so he let you make yourself comfy in his bed. Banshee, the little traitor, trotted right behind you and left Eddie on the couch to snuggle up beside you for the night.

You’re cute in the morning, Eddie thinks. You have an adorable little pout, and you yawn about 80 times until you’ve had a sip of coffee. 

It takes nearly a lifetime to drag you away from Banshee so you and Eddie can head to the studio because you adore the little asshole, and Banshee loves anything that’ll give her the time of day. You make Eddie promise to let you see her again, though, so you sadly say goodbye with a soft peck to the fluffy area between her eyes and let Eddie drag you to his van.

The car ride is nice; Eddie lets you mess around with the contents of his van and go through the stack of CDs he’s compiled over the years. You land on one of Eddie’s favorites, an old mixtape Wayne made in college that Eddie spent most of his high school blaring loud enough to blow out a speaker.

Today, you’re shooting in a house— a nice one that Eddie could only conjure up in his dreams—but he doesn’t have much time to dwell on it because he’s being dragged over to makeup and hair as soon as he steps in.

“You thinking of joining the industry?” Nicki asks as she works a nice-smelling mousse into Eddie’s hair.

Eddie had been busy watching you talk to one of the producers, but he finds the strength to tear his eyes away and gaze at Nicki through the vanity mirror. “No, not exactly. Just… doing a favor for a friend, I guess.”

Nicki raises an eyebrow, “A friend? Don’t act like I didn’t see you two come in together.”

Eddie’s face warms at that, the tips of his ears turning red as he stutters, “Huh?” 

Nicki looks at Eddie with a ‘Don’t bullshit me’ look.

“I mean, like, yeah, we had breakfast together–” “Mhm.”

Eddie huffs out a gentle laugh, “No, really, we’re friends.”

“Friends that fuck on camera and look at each other the way you two do? Sure.”

Eddie doesn’t ask what Nicki means by that because— well, he knows what Nicki means by that. He’s caught himself looking at you like you put the stars in the sky one too many times, and it’s almost embarrassing. Almost.

But can you blame Eddie? Can you really blame him when you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, the softest smile, the greatest laugh, and the sweetest personality? It’s not Eddie’s fault that you’re perfect.

Eddie just thinks you’re neat. 

He thinks you’re amazing, actually, and it’s hard to remember his fucking lines when you’re standing under a steaming shower, wet body glistening and pebbled nipples practically begging for his mouth.

He’s butchering the script, that’s for sure, but he figures it’s not too bad since nobody’s corrected him. 

The scene starts with you taking a shower and Eddie being a peeping tom, which ultimately leads to Eddie sinking to his knees and licking into you until you’re a quivering, sticky mess on his tongue. Eddie would spend forever on his knees, between your legs, if he could because you taste heavenly and sound better than any song Eddie’s ever listened to, and that says something.

Your fingers thread through the wet strands of Eddie’s hair, and Eddie rapidly blinks when he gazes up at you, only to get an eyeful of his wispy bangs. You smile, petting back his bangs so he can see, and he hums, nudging his face further against you, his tongue teasing more, fingers curling deeper.

It doesn’t take long to make you cum, and the second you do, Eddie is standing up, shutting off the shower, and ushering you out into the expansive main bathroom. It’s almost as if it’s just Eddie and you in the room. No cameras, no directors or producers, or that weird pervy lighting guy that compliments you way too fucking much for Eddie’s liking. It’s just you and Eddie.

“Let’s do an over-the-counter shot next.”

Fuck. It’s not just you two, actually.

What a buzz kill.

Either way, Eddie finds himself pressing your wet, naked waist down against the sink, smiling when you squeal at the cold marble touching your skin. “Stick your ass out, baby, let me see that gorgeous ass.” 

You mewl as you follow Eddie’s instructions, tipping your hips back to present yourself to him and the cameras. You’re dripping. Swollen and wet and throbbing, and Eddie— god, Eddie feels like a fucking animal.

“Got such a pretty pussy, honey. All wet and ready for me, hm?” He teases, gently running his fingers through the sticky arousal between your legs. You shakily breathe as you nod your head, “Yeah. All for you. Please.”

Eddie steps forward, grabbing his cock and painting it between your swollen lips as he hooks his other arm across your shoulders, pulling you back to press against his chest. He presses a wet kiss to the skin of your cheek in front of your ear, voice dry and needy as he whispers in your ear, “You’re so fuckin’ pretty,” His eyes catch yours in the mirror as you keen. “Ask me to fuck you.”

You whimper out loud, wriggling your hips back into his as your hands grip the counter, “P-please fuck me. Please. Need it so bad, want your cock so bad I— o-oh.”

The slide to home base is fucking otherworldly. It was life-changing the first time, and it’s life-changing now, and if Eddie ever gets the chance to fuck you again, he knows it’ll be life-changing then.

You’re so warm, and you're sucking Eddie’s cock in so nicely, so sinfully, that Eddie almost makes a deal with the devil right then and there. Your chest is heaving by the time Eddie’s pelvis presses to your bum, his cock nestled deep into your pulsing cunt. Eddie leans forward, pressing his chest against your back as he loops an arm around your shoulders, holding you tight to him as he gives one slow thrust. He coos when your eyes flutter shut, and your jaw drops, a shaky hand reaching up to sink your nails into Eddie’s forearm.

“S-so deep,” You slur, wriggling your hips back against Eddie.

Eddie grunts, “Fuck. You feel so good, baby. Always so warm and ready for me, hm?” Eddie’s lips are wet against your jaw as he whispers into your ear, and you nod with a mewl.

Eddie works up the pace relatively fast in favor of the cameras, and at some point, he reaches down to grip the thick of your thigh and haul your leg up to rest on the counter so you’re spread open even more. The angle makes it easier for him to catch your spot, and it’s better for the camera to capture the sight of your soaking pussy wrapped around Eddie’s cock, dribbling onto both of your thighs and creating a sticky ring of arousal at the base of Eddie’s dick.

Eddie’s hand is wrapped around your throat when you begin twitching around him, mumbling promises of your climax, and Eddie doesn’t waste time in sinking his hand between your legs to help you reach the edge quicker. Your moans fall silent, eyes squeezed shut, and jaw dropped wide open as Eddie fucks you through your orgasm— and fuck, you feel so good. Squeezing and pulsing and dripping around Eddie’s thighs, throat vibrating beneath his palm when air comes back to you.

“There we go, baby. Get it all out, push it out, honey.” Eddie encourages you.

You’re shaking, trembling like a leaf in Eddie’s arms, and Eddie wants to spend forever tucked into your pussy, warm skin sticky against him, pretty little whines and mewls coating his brain in this cutesy pink fog that makes him want to fucking marry you.

Get you a home, give you his babies, maybe even get you a fucking dog and just live happily goddamn ever.

Jesus, Eddie’s a goner.

“F-fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

Eddie pulls out last second, jerking himself off between your cute ass cheeks until he’s spurting white ropes of cum up your back.

Eddie, ever the considerate man he is, pushes your hair out of the way to avoid getting any of his sticky release in it. You’re breathing heavily, pretty eyes glazed over as you glance back at Eddie, a shy glint in your eyes at the sight of your skin painted in his cum.

Eddie’s obsessed with you now, no doubt.

His ringed fingers slide through the sticky mess on your skin as he grips your ass cheeks, gently spreading them apart and humming when you arch your back, proudly swaying your ass in front of him. The sight makes Eddie dizzy; pools of cum dripping down your back to slink its way through your ass and over your sticky folds. “You’ve got such a cute little hole, baby.” Eddie compliments, taking his thumb and smearing his cum over the puckered muscle, softly laughing when you whine. 

He lightly slaps your ass then, reaching forward to gently grasp your face with his messy hands and pull you back to press a firm kiss over your lips. His thumb, the one that had smeared his cum over your tight hole, sinks between your moving lips, pushing into your mouth and onto your tongue as he whispers a small command to taste it, and you mewl.

“So good, princess—”

“Cut!”

You both jolt at the booming voice, getting rudely snapped out of the daze you’d fallen into. 

These fucking cameras.

You smile, dropping your cheek onto your shoulder as you bat your eyelashes up at Eddie from over your shoulder, “You’re a natural, Eddie, you know that?”

Eddie huffs a laugh, thanking the assistant when they bring you towels and robes.

“Well,” He breathes as he slinks the robe over his shoulders, watching as you do the same, “I’ve got the best coach.” He winks.

Now that you and Eddie have done two films together and basically had a sleepover, you’re practically inseparable.

It’s funny, really. Eddie thought maybe the fact that you’ve seen each other bare and had sex on camera might hinder the aspect of any friendly connection because, well, Eddie’s never done this before! He’s not a pornstar, so he’s not sure how the friendship/relationship aspect of it works, but luckily, it’s easier than most normal friendships Eddie’s had before.

You talk almost every night over the phone (Eddie finally fixed the wire), going over one another’s day and laughing at embarrassing or funny moments. You go on for hours until either one of you falls asleep, and it’s usually you since Eddie has the sleep schedule of a newborn baby who doesn’t know the difference between night and day. All the better for him, though, because he gets to poke fun at you the next day and tease you about how you sometimes snore.

And Eddie loves listening to you talk— could spend hours cuddled up with Banshee as he listens to you ramble on about whatever new show you’re watching or the latest gossip at work. It’s Eddie’s favorite part of his day, talking to you, so he kicks himself when he realizes he forgot to call you last night.

He’s getting ready for bed when he remembers, and he practically sprints to his phone on his nightstand and dials your number in less than thirty seconds. It takes you three rings to answer, and Eddie smiles at the sound of your voice, “Hello?”

“Hi, princess,” Eddie responds.

You gasp, “Eddie, hi! Oh, I was just about to call you! Where have you been?” You ask. Eddie groans, dropping back onto his mattress with spread arms. “Working. I’m so sorry I forgot to call. I just started a new schedule at the shop, and the hours are awful.”

Eddie can hear your frown when you respond, “Bummer. I’ve got a way to cheer you up, though.”

Eddie’s eyes are closed, and sleep is so heavy in his bones he feels like he’s sinking through the mattress, but he smiles as if it’s second nature when he responds, “Hit me.”

You cheer, and Eddie hears the rustling of grocery bags on your end as you speak, “My manager gave me a shit ton of holiday chocolates she had left over, and well, I was wondering if you’d like to drown yourself in sugar with me?” 

Eddie softly laughs, folding his arm to rest his hand on his tummy as he nods, forgetting you can’t see. “You didn’t even have to ask.”

The drive from your flat to Eddie’s is typically around twenty minutes, but with the benefit of it being nearly midnight and most normal people being in bed by now, you’re knocking on Eddie’s door in just a little under twelve minutes. 

Eddie opens the door to let you in and immediately just wants to kiss you. You’re dressed in an oversized sweatshirt, loose pajama pants with cute little ducks printed on them, and fluffy house slippers. You grin up at Eddie as you lift a bag full of candy, “I come bearing gifts!”

Eddie had been exhausted all day, but now that he’s had two handfuls of sugary treats, he’s ready to run a fucking marathon.

He’s sucking on a sour apple jawbreaker and watching some shitty romcom with Banshee curled in his lap when he feels your head softly drop onto his shoulder. He glances down at you and sees the soft flutter of your eyes, “Are you tired? You can take my bed.” He offers.

You tilt your head to blink up at him tiredly, “Will you come with me?”

And well, Eddie was originally going to take the couch, but you’re looking up at him with these cute, bleary eyes, and Eddie can’t even imagine saying no. So, he shuts his TV off, makes a mental note to clean up the candy wrappers sometime tomorrow, and lets you drag him off to his room.

Banshee decided to take advantage of the new space on the couch and sprawl out, so Eddie doesn’t have to worry about asking if you’re okay with her cuddling up on his bed like she usually does. 

Eddie doesn’t do this very often— sleep with other people in his bed, he means. And sure, he’s had partners before that would stay the night here and there, but he hasn’t had that in over a year now, so it’s safe to say that Eddie’s a little bit nervous.

He doesn’t know if you want to be close, but considering how cuddly you are on a daily basis, he’s not surprised when you press yourself into his side with a content sigh, snuggling deeper into the warm covers. He turns, shifting to wrap his arms around your frame, trying his best to ignore the fast beating of his heart in his chest— but that’s not the main issue. The bigger problem is— “Eddie? Are you hard?”

Shit.

God, this is awful. Nothing even remotely sexual happened, and Eddie’s popping a boner and practically stabbing your stomach. Fuck, you probably think he’s a perv now. Nice going.

“No.”

It falls silent for a moment, and Eddie can feel the quiver of your body as you giggle into his shoulder. He smiles, an embarrassed blush rising over her cheeks as he lifts a hand to palm at his eye, “I’m so fucking sorry.”

You turn in Eddie’s arm, pressing a hand to Eddie’s shoulder to lay him on his back. You stay lying by his side, body pressed to him, head resting on his shoulder. You nose at the curly strands of hair on Eddie’s neck, and your hand runs down his torso, fingertips dipping beneath the waistband of his sweats. “O-oh. No, you don’t need to, princess.” Eddie says, yet his voice is shaky and holds anticipation as you drag your nails through the coarse hair leading to his cock. 

“I want to. Please?” You ask. And you’re so good, so obedient, not touching Eddie’s cock until he swallows and nods his head yes. You wriggle, like a happy pup that got a treat, and your hand sinks lower, wrapping around the thick of Eddie’s cock.

Eddie’s breath hitches, sinking into the feeling of your warm hand stroking up his cock, your thumb running over his leaking tip. Eddie curses, hips twitching up into your hold, and you press a kiss to his jaw, and Eddie nearly bursts into stars.

You press another kiss to his jaw, soft and sweet, and Eddie slinks an arm around you, sinking his hands into your hair and shakily breathing. “You keep kissing me like that, and I’m gonna— fuck.”

And it’s so pathetic; you’ve only had your hand down his pants for less than five minutes, and Eddie’s quivering like a virgin having their first time. God, this is so embarrassing.

You kiss Eddie once more, “Wait, wait. Not yet.”

And then you shuffle away from Eddie, and he’s frowning because he feels cold without you snuggled against him. But then you’re sinking underneath the covers, and Eddie’s cursing, “W-what are you doing, honey?”

He lifts the covers just as you wriggle your way between his legs and hook your fingers over the band of his sweats. You peel his sweats away, mouth opening like a hungry lion when Eddie’s cock pops out. You push the front band of his sweats to catch just below his balls, and Eddie’s hips squirm from the pressure making you giggle when his cock twitches.

You loop your fingers around his cock, twisting up on a long stroke, “Did I ever tell you how pretty your cock is, Eddie?”

Jesus Christ.

Eddie breathes shakily through his nose, tummy quivering as your gaze flickers; he shakes his head no. Eddie sinks a hand to pet your hair back, smiling when you nuzzle into his touch, letting your lips brush against his tip, “You think it’s pretty, baby?” He asks.

You nod, letting your tongue loll out of your mouth to catch the pearl of pre-cum dripping from his tip. You don’t say anything else as you lean forward and wrap your mouth around him, languidly taking him as far as you want and sucking him for all he’s worth.

Eddie’s head drops back then, his entire body just losing strength to do anything as you slowly fuck your mouth over him. The blanket falls over you then, and Eddie curses, scrambling to push it back over your head so you don’t, like, suffocate on his cock.

And Eddie was already close before, so it doesn’t take long for him to start cursing and warning you that he’s gonna cum. Before he knows it, he’s emptying himself into the warm cavern of your mouth, soft mixes of curses and your name tumbling from his mouth as you happily take every last drop.

You pull off of him with a small pop, licking up the small remnants of cum that drool down his cock. Eddie feels weightless now; the effects of sugar are long gone now that you practically sucked his soul through his dick. You tuck Eddie back into his pants, and as if you couldn’t get any cuter, any sweeter, you press a gentle kiss to Eddie’s tummy right where the waistband sits.

Eddie’s got a loopy grin on his face when you crawl back up to snuggle back into his side, mumbling something about how you love licking his cock. Eddie nearly dies, by the way.

He thinks he’s in love with you, maybe.

You breathe in deep, draping an arm across Eddie’s tummy and slinking your leg between his, and you sigh all sleepy and cute as you say, “G’night, Eddie.”

Yeah. Eddie’s definitely in love with you.

Weeks go by as you and Eddie become thick as thieves.

You carry on with your nightly calls, obviously, but now there’s a healthy mix of one of you going to the other's home and crashing there for the night, then that bleeds into the next day where you just spend hours with each other doing fuck all.

Eddie just likes being around you. You don’t have to be doing anything particularly fun or sexual; no, Eddie just enjoys your company. And most times, you and Eddie will be doing your separate little activities— you reading or watching a movie while Eddie writes up new campaign ideas for Dustin— and you will reach out to twirl a strand of Eddie’s hair around your knuckle and gently tug or poke your finger into his cheek where his dimples reside and Eddie just melts.

Most of the time, you’re only doing it for your peace of mind (Eddie knows because you told him when he asked), but something tells him maybe you actually have something to say when you poke Eddie’s cheek for the third time.

He turns to you, brows raised and hiding beneath his bangs that so badly need a trim, “Yes, doll?”

You smile now that his attention is on you, and you shift, careful not to wake Banshee in your lap from your movements. Eddie thinks Banshee might like you more than she likes him, which is just downright traitorous, considering Eddie’s the one who feeds her and keeps a roof over her head. He doesn’t really blame the cat, though. 

“What are you doing on Saturday?” You ask.

Eddie hums, closing his notebook and leaning back into his couch, “This Saturday?”

You nod, and Eddie shrugs, lips pouting as he speaks, “Nothing, I’m pretty sure. Why?”

You sigh heavily, sinking into the couch as you gently pet Banshee behind her ear, “We have an event for work, and I was just wondering if you would maybe wanna tag along?”

Eddie’s head tips in interest, “Sure. Is it, like, fancy dress shit?” He asks. Eddie thinks he has a tux somewhere deep in the trenches of his closet. Probably the one he wore to Wayne's wedding two years ago; he hopes he still fits.

You shrug, “Eh, nothing too fancy schmancy. Slacks and a nice shirt will do,” You mindlessly watch the television, gently rubbing Banshee’s ear between your fingers. “That I can do, princess. But uh,” Eddie pauses, “You don’t seem too ecstatic about this.” He points out.

You shrug, glancing over at Eddie, and Eddie wants to kiss your pouty lips because you look adorable swallowed up in a throw blanket with sleepy eyes blinking up at him. “S’cause I’m not,” You huff, “I hate those ignorant assholes— don’t get me wrong, some of them are good friends of mine! But most of them are just…” You make a face and roll your eyes, and Eddie softly laughs. You let your head lazily turn to gaze at him, “Don says I have to go, though. So I figured I may as well drag someone I actually enjoy being around.” You softly smile.

Eddie’s heart flutters and grows three times the size of his body.

Saturday night comes quicker than most, and Eddie spends nearly an hour digging through his closet. By the time Eddie finds a nice enough shirt to pair with his neatly ironed (to Eddie’s standard, which is probably not very high) slacks, he’s running behind and starts to stress that he won’t pick you up on time, and he’s just totally made an ass of himself.

It’s five o’clock when Eddie gets to your flat, and when he knocks on your door, he’s out of breath because he smokes more than a godman grill, and he skipped every other step on the staircase to get there quicker. He’s thinking of a million ways to apologize for being late, and he thinks he has it right when you open the door, but then— “Oh. Hey Eds! You’re early!”

Eddie huffs, nearly doubling over in exhaustion because he seriously needs to quit smoking, “Wha– early?”

You hold the door open for Eddie to step in and nod. You’re in a white fluffy robe with house boots on, and your hair is tied back, so you have a clear canvas to work with for your makeup. “Yeah, it starts at seven.” 

And, oh, what the fuck? Here Eddie was stressing and thinking he’d completely ruined his chances with you because he decided to be an asshat and lose track of time on his video games, but in reality, he’s nearly two hours early?!

“Oh, but now you can help me pick a dress. Come on.”

No, Eddie has zero complaints, actually. He’s grateful that he’s timely challenged, he thinks as you drag him toward your room.

Eddie spends the next thirty minutes or so seated at the foot of your bed, judging whichever dresses you surprise him with from out of your closet.

It isn’t easy to give a solid answer because, well, you look good in all of them. And Eddie’s not even being biased because he’s got a sickening crush on you— no, you genuinely look amazing in every dress.

“Eddie, you’ve said yes to all of them.” You huff. “Because they all look good!” Eddie exclaims.

You frown, resting your hands on your hips and tilting your head at him. Eddie shrugs, “I don’t know why you’re upset with me when it’s technically your fault.” He points out, to which you roll your eyes and jokingly throw a dress at his face.

It takes a while for you to decide; by the time you’ve figured it out, there’s about forty minutes until the event begins.

The dress you landed on is evil, to say the least.

It’s a black puffy babydoll-style dress, except instead of a poofy top half, it’s tight fitting and pushes your chest up to sit nice and pretty, and the straps are thin, and Eddie thinks about the sound you’d make if he just reached out and teasingly snapped it against your skin. Wants to coo when you squirm and mewl and press yourself into him.

And the dress is so short, long enough to cover everything, but you wouldn’t have to bend over very far to flash a lucky person, and the sight of your thighs makes Eddie’s head spin.

He doesn’t know where the courage comes from because Eddie is anything but bold when it comes to people he has ridiculous crushes on, but Eddie couldn’t help himself, watching you bent over the sink as you do your last touch-ups to your makeup, the way your silky thighs rub against one another when you shift to get closer to the mirror— Eddie didn’t stand a chance.

He’s behind you before he knows it, and you’re smiling at him through the mirror, “Almost done, promise.” You say.

Eddie lets his hand slink around your waist, dropping his head to nuzzle into your neck, brown eyes fluttering up to hold your gaze through the glass as he kisses your skin before playfully nipping at you. You squeal, curling away from him, and he smiles as you push at him. “You’re cute,” Eddie softly says, and he grins, teeth digging into his bottom lip when you shy away from his gaze, “So pretty.” He adds.

Eddie turns you to face him as he presses you against the bathroom sink. He seeks your lips, but you pout and shake your head, “My lipgloss.” 

Eddie huffs out a laugh, shaking his head before pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, careful not to catch any of the sticky application before sinking to his knees, hands gentle and greedy as they caress your thighs.

Eddie leans forward to kiss the inside of your knee, “Gonna let me taste you, honey?” He hums, leaning in the press a kiss further up the inside of your thigh. Your breath hitches, legs subconsciously spreading wider to accommodate Eddie. Your nails dig into the countertop as you shakily breathe, “W-we’re gonna be late,” You weakly say as Eddie lets his tongue draw shapes in your skin. Eddie hums, sucking the fat of your thigh into his mouth before leaving with a pop, lips brushing against your hot skin as he says, “I’ll be quick. Promise.”

He doesn’t wait for your response as he coasts his hands up your thighs to loop his fingers around the band of your panties, dragging them down your legs and helping you step out of them. 

Eddie doesn’t waste time then; he kisses a sloppy wet trail up the inside of your thigh, fingers digging into the fat of your skin and helping you spread open for him so he can nuzzle his head beneath the fluffy tulle of your dress and begin his task of devouring you. You’re wet, dripping, and throbbing for Eddie’s tongue, and this is the third time that Eddie has found himself licking into you, and god, it never gets fucking old.

The sounds you make, the way you writhe, the tiny gasps you give, and then the way your cunt pulses around his tongue— it’s the pinnacle of Eddie’s night, he already knows. 

“E-Eddie— oh,” Your breathy whine makes Eddie stuff his face further into your pussy, nose brushing against your clit as he thrusts his tongue into you, your hands scrambling down to sink into Eddie’s hair and tug.

And it took Eddie longer than he’d like to admit to get his hair slicked into the neat bun he’s sporting, but with his tongue plunged deep inside of you and your pretty moans filling his ears, Eddie can’t seem to care that you’re definitely messing up his hard work.

Eddie could spend eternity here, down on his knees, under the dress of your skirt, lapping at your pussy like it’s the last meal he’ll ever have. And sure, Eddie makes this conclusion, like, every single time he finds himself between your legs, but can you blame him? You’re the sweetest thing he’s ever had the pleasure of dealing with.

You lift a leg to hook over Eddie’s shoulder, the heel of your foot pressing into his shoulder blade and pushing a moan from the depths of Eddie’s chest as he snuggles deeper into you, licking and sucking and nipping. 

“S-so close…” You whimper, thighs beginning to quiver on each side of Eddie’s head. He fixes his grip on your hips because Eddie wouldn’t dream of letting you fall in his presence, and you’re standing on your tiptoes when you fumble over the edge, crying out for Eddie as you soak his tongue.

Eddie’s moaning into you, fingers massaging and caressing the thick parts of your hips and thighs as he continues working you through your orgasm. You’re twitching and heavily breathing when Eddie parts his mouth from your slick folds, strings of arousal and spit snapping and falling to his chin. God, it makes Eddie ache in his pants.

He presses sweet and sticky kisses to the insides of your thighs, savoring every moment he has here, breathing you in, tasting you, feeling you, hearing you. He doesn’t doubt for a moment that he looks like a madman when he brings his head out from under your dress, and you giggle, pressing your hand to your lips.

Eddie wants to hear that noise on repeat. Put his headphones on and, like, clean his house or something. Let your giggles play on a constant loop until they’re engrained into the grooves of his brain so he never has to go a second without hearing them.

“What?” Eddie smiles, hands still under your dress and soothingly squeezing the shaky muscles of your thighs. Your eyes are glazed from pleasure, and you look warm as you speak, “I– your hair,” You laugh. You press the wispy curls of Eddie’s bangs back, “I’m so sorry. It looked so nice, and I messed it up.” You happily frown.

Eddie huffs out a laugh, pressing a kiss to your knee and shaking his head, “That’s okay,” He responds, reaching over for your panties to help you slip them back on. “It was for a good cause.” He winks.

Eddie doesn’t frequent fancy parties.

The fanciest event Eddie’s ever been to was a masquerade-themed dinner that he and Jeff snuck into because there were rumors of a big hit producer being there, which, big fucking shocker, they never found him since everyone was in a fucking mask. It was a waste of time, but at least they ate like kings that night.

Besides that, Eddie doesn’t go to fancy places— it’s just not his kind of scene. And it’s not like the event you’ve brought him to tonight is, like, Buckingham Palace tier, but everyone here looks like a million bucks and up, and Eddie’s not quite sure he’s up to that standard.

He would be more worried if you weren’t clinging to him like a koala bear and keeping him in light conversation.

You introduced Eddie to a few of your industry friends, and one or two of them even remembered Eddie from the films he’d done with you, which, Eddie doesn’t know why, but his head grew three times bigger in size from that. And for the most part, you keep to Eddie’s side, pointing out different people from across the room and telling him the lore behind them and whatnot as you share a plate of snacks.

And you love grapes, apparently, because Eddie’s had to get up and refill on them about three times now. “Do you want more?” Eddie asks when he realizes you’re almost done. You glance at him with a small smile as you nod, “I’ll get it this time, though. I want to try some of the cheese.”

So, Eddie nods and keeps an eye on you until the crowd obstructs his view. He busies himself with watching the room, tries to see if he can pick out anyone from any pornos he’s watched before he realizes that’s fucking weird and cringes at himself for being a perv. He finishes his glass of champagne, which Eddie isn’t a champagne guy, but it was either that or whiskey, and Eddie would rather not get shitfaced tonight.

And what’s taking you so long? You’ve been gone for a while now, and Eddie had first thought you maybe made a quick stop at the restrooms, but it’s been more than enough time, and he misses you (as fucking sappy as that is), so he gets up and makes his way to the food bar.

He’s got his empty flute in one hand and the other in his pocket, brown eyes softly scanning the room as he walks. And then he spots you, near the food where you said you’d be, with some guy talking to you, but something isn’t right. 

Eddie’s spent enough time with you now to be able to tell when you’re feeling uneasy just by the way you anxiously drag your nail against the length of your thumb, the way your eyes dart around, or the tense pull of your shoulders.

Your gaze lands on Eddie, and your eyes soften, and Eddie doesn’t even have to think twice before he walks over.

The man's back is facing Eddie, so he doesn’t see the curly-headed boy until he steps around and slinks an arm around your waist, pulling you close with a soft smile, “Been looking for you, sweets.” He presses a kiss to your forehead as you sink into him.

“Mm, just catching up with..a friend.” 

Eddie doesn’t miss the pause. He looks over to the man you’d been talking to, and you take a breath, “Eddie, this is Chris, a coworker.” You introduce the man. And Eddie remembers that name; he thinks he remembers seeing it on the script of the last film you and Eddie did together— the one where you’d asked Eddie to take over because the other guy was an asshole.

Chris reaches out a hand, “Chris. You must be a good friend of hers?”

Eddie doesn’t like that. Doesn’t like that he doesn’t refer to you by your name, or the smug grin on his face, or the sly tone in his voice when he says it. 

And Eddie doesn’t know why he does it, okay. He doesn’t know why the words fly out of his mouth or why he didn’t, like, think it through, but suddenly, Eddie’s introducing himself as your boyfriend. Which, Eddie is not your boyfriend. And you’re not his girlfriend.

Eddie would love to be your boyfriend, and he’d love for you to be his girlfriend, but— but you’re not. So, Eddie doesn’t know why he does it, but he does, and god, it’s comedic how the guy's face falls. Eddie can feel your gaze on him, and he panics a little because what if Eddie just crossed the line big time?

Chris’s gaze flickers to you, and his brows raise as you look at him, “So, I take it this is why you’re only doing solo content now?”

Which, fucking gross. That’s definitely none of this meathead guy's business! So what if you’re making solo content only? And why does he know, and why does he care? God, this guy’s a creep.

But also… why are you only doing solo content? Eddie can’t help but wonder. Did something happen? Was it this asshole's fault? Eddie will kill him if he has anything to do with it. You and Eddie have become so close; you tell each other everything about everything, so why didn’t you tell him about this? It’s not a big deal or whatever, but—

“Does it matter?” Shit, Eddie didn’t mean to say that out loud.

You’re both looking at Eddie in shock, and Eddie just blinks and waits for an answer.

You take in a deep breath, arm squeezing around Eddie’s as you answer— since this guy can’t take a fucking hint, “Yeah, actually, it is. Just didn’t feel right.” You shrug.

The guy nods, pursing his lips together, “Fair enough. Well, if that ever changes, you know where to find me.” He winks before turning around and leaving. Eddie cringes, and he almost steps forward to say something, to tell him to fuck off somewhere, but your grip tightens around his arms, and Eddie understands that you just want the conversation to be over.

Eddie’s quickly turning his attention to you, though, when you press yourself into his side, “Thank you.” You sweetly say.

Eddie nods, a warm hand reaching up to squeeze your hand that's resting over his bicep, “Don’t sweat it, princess. That guy’s a douche.” And you huff, nodding your head, “Yeah. You definitely scared him, though. It was pretty hot.”

Eddie tries not to let that get to his head. 

He fails.

The rest of the night goes well with fewer dickhead run-ins and more grapes, and Eddie is more than Elated when you say it’s time to go.

The ride home is pleasant, and you’ve been extra cuddly all night, so Eddie’s heart is practically the size of Texas when you bring his hand into your lap and slink your fingers together. You’re spending the night, so Eddie’s kind of excited to get in bed and snuggle until you both pass out— but then Eddie’s thrown in for a loop when you both get under his covers.

Banshee is busy in her bakery down at the foot of the bed, kneading little biscuits in preparation for her sleep, and you’re fresh-faced and wrapped in one of Eddie’s shirts when you look over at him with a teasing look, “So,” you start, “You’re my boyfriend.”

Eddie blinks at you, wishing the bed would just let him sink in and become one with the mattress. “Oh god,” He groans, pressing his hands to his face, “I’m sorry, it just came out! That guy was being a dick, and it was the first thing that I thought of, and— god, I’m sorry.” He drags his hands over his face and shoots you an empathetic look. “You can totally, like, kick me in the nuts.”

And Eddie kind of braces himself for you to chew him out or something; tell him he’s a weirdo, and he’ll never in a million years get to call himself your boyfriend because you’re way out of his league. But then you giggle. 

And it’s not the teasing ‘get a load of this loser’ giggle— no, it’s your sweet, kind, and adoring giggle.

“No, no. I was… I was wondering when you would ask, actually.”

Eddie’s never turned his head so fast. He thinks he imagined you saying it, like, maybe he drank too much champagne even though he literally only had less than two full glasses the entire night. “Huh? I– w-what do you mean?” Eddie gapes. “Like… like, ask you to be my girlfriend?”

And you’re so cute as you shyly nod, glancing at Eddie with this expectant gaze.

“Shit, well uh, I-I wanted to ask you in like a bigger way. Like flowers and shit because I… well, I really like you, and it’s what you deserve and—”

You cut Eddie off with a laugh and scoot closer to him, and if Eddie’s heart beats any faster, he might die. “Eddie,” You lowly and softly say, holding his gaze. Eddie nods, eyes darting down to your lips as he holds his breath. “Will you be my boyfriend?”

Shit, Eddie’s never said yes so quickly in his life.

————

a/n: HELLOOO! if you have made it to the end of this awfully long baby i am so thankful and appreciative of you, these two are my babies so I hope you enjoyed them as much as I've enjoyed my time with them <3 as always, thank u for reading and being here, i love and appreciate any feedback, ILYSM MWAH <3

————

cutie teeny taglist: @vol2eddie @paleidiot @hideoutside

[lookingformoondrop]

could i request a boyfriend!andrew graves x reader headcannons or scenarios? i LOVE TCOAAL🫶🫶

Boyfriend! Andrew Graves x Reader - Headcanons

TW: Andy has a foul mouth, reader gets groped, Andy is a little possessive, a tiny bit of violence (-is always the answer)

♥︎Notes: I'm kind of an idiot so if you notice something is spelled incorrectly, feel free to send me a dm so i can fix it (totally not at all referring to my first Yandere!Andy x Reader post where I spelled dark as darmfk ;-;). Also this is kind of short because so many people requested for Andy x Reader, so I didn't want to pull out all the stops. I hope this meets your expectations <3.♥︎

The first thing you gotta to know about dating Andy, is that he's very touch starved.

I can just headcanon that due to his aloof personality and very broody behavior, he doesn't get many hugs...

So when you enter his life, best believe that Andy shows you this completely different side of him!

I'm talking.... Cuddling in the mornings till the point where you're almost late for work because he refuses to let you go.

I'm talking.... Andy being able to sense when you're about to go into the shower. His spidey-senses tingles, and the moment you're about to hop in, he's right there already getting his hair wet.

I'm talking.... Trapping you with his kisses when you're making food, definitely not noticing that he's causing you to burn dinner.

And no amount of protest can deter this man either.

Speaking of making food... Andrew is the master-chef of the house!

Now he's no Gorden Ramsey (as he likes to tell you whenever he makes you a sandwich), but everyone knows that one bite of his food is enough to make a sailor come back to the land.

So it's very nifty when you're sick and at home, in need to have someone take care of you.

The first time you ever got sick was when you and Andy were still living separately.

It was a Friday night, and it was supposed to be your 1-year anniversary with Andy. Unfortunately, due to some unhygienic biotch at the office, you caught a cold and had to cancel.

At first Andy didn't respond, instead leaving you on read. You felt bad, figuring that he was mad at you for canceling.

But lo' and behold, exactly 10 minutes later, that was a frantic sound of keys jiggling into the your front door.

You had gotten up from your couch-potato position to see the person who wanted to rush into your home so badly, when it occurred to you;

Andrew is the only one with another set of keys...

And with that realization, Andy burst through the door with a pharmacy store bag in one hand, and a grocery store bag in another.

In an instant, Andy made you take a disgusting amount of cold medicine, and blessed your cold home with the warmth and smell of spices and herbs (likely all from the soup).

When the food was ready, he sat you up with a pillow and hand-fed you soup for the rest of the night. You felt so bad for ruining your anniversary, but everytime you tried to apologize for it, Andrew would stuff your mouth with more soup and would say;

"I don't care about that romance and anniversary shit. We don't need to go to a fancy restaurant or an expensive place just to feel like we're honoring an important date. That date is important because it is our date. We don't need to one-up that memorable time just to remind everyone of how special it is... Y/N, you're crying into the soup."

Needless to say, you cried.

But Andrew doesn't just take care of you...You best believe he also protects.

Well, sorta.

You could be in a grocery store, at a Boba shop, in the mall, getting new shoes, it wouldn't matter, Andrew would always have his hand on your waist.

Be it because he saw someone look at you, doesn't matter who or how old they are, he'll always wrap his arms around you and whisper ever so softly, "You're mine..."

It has definitely given you some weird looks over the years, but you know he means well.

And if anyone ever actually looks at you funny? It's over for them.

Andrew will make it VERY clear that you're not to be messed with.

For example, a couple of months into your relationship, you were riding the train. Enjoying a simple conversation about suspicious neighbors and whatnot, when all of the sudden some guy came up behind you and tried groping you discreetly.

Andy noticed very quickly that all the blood drained from your face. He looked behind you and noticed the old geezer trying to get a hand full of someone way younger than them, and Andrew could feel every restraint in his body snap.

In an act of "self-defense" as told to the cops later on, Andrew punched the living daylights of the guy and sent him flying into a pole.

You fussed over Andy's fist for awhile, completely forgetting about how you felt. But the only thing Andy could think about was how he should've hit that guy harder.

When you guys were finally walking home, hand in hand, you leaned on Andrew.

"I'm sorry about today Andy... I didn't mean for you to get all banged up."

Andrew snorted, "My knuckle is a little scratched up, so what? That perverted asshole had it coming for him."

You kissed Andy's cheek, which granted you a dark blush from Andy, and a grin from you.

"Thank you Aaandy~" You brushed his hand with your thumb,

Being in a relationship with Andy is a little messy, and yes sometimes a little crazy. But no matter what happens, Andy will always stick by your side.

"You're welcome, sweetheart." Andy squeezed your hand in return.

Thank you for the ask<3

[fuckmymunson]

eddie who has a reputation to uphold, the weird and scary freak who wears chains and big metal rings and always goes on tangents about his hatred for the popular kids, not a sliver of fear or weakness in his eyes. eddie who at the same time never leaves his house without the light yellow scrunchy with daisies on it that you gave him, always on his wrist or wrapped in his hair.

eddie who’s sweet n soft on you in a way he never is with anyone else 🥹

💌 a/n: Oh god, this, this, this, this. Please, I don’t ask for much. I’m so happy to get back to writing! Hope you like it!

🪷 Check my recent poll ¡! 📌

“I lost it” His voice sounded almost defeated, and quite inopportune.

“Eddie!” You jolted in your place, closing the light green locker door. Behind it, there he was, the big, scary, mean freak of Hawkins High. Covered from head to toe in chains, leather, ripped jeans, black, black, all black. With dark, unruly hair and a chunky rings.

But also, with puppy eyes, and a quivering lip.

“You scared the shit out of me, Eds” The frown on your pretty face made his heart jump inside his chest. You were an angel, a sight for sore eyes.

“I lost it” He repeated.

“You lost what?”

“I’m sorry” Eddie looked down, apparently now his Reeboks were the most interesting thing.

“Care to explain what is missing and why are you apologizing?” Crossing your arms over your chest, you waited, for almost three minutes.

“I lost the scrunchy you gave me” He finally admitted, like a criminal at trial.

Eddie heard you sigh, to his ears, was a sigh of disappointment. In reality, it was a sigh of relief. Only Edward Munson knew how to make a simple thing as a scrunchy into a faithful message.

“That’s it? Eddie, it’s just a hair tie” You shook your head, still not comprehending the dimensions of his problem.

“It’s not just a hair tie!” He exclaimed, now almost offended, of course only he could switch mood that easily. A few curious students looked at your way, still wondering how did an adorable piece of cotton and sunshine like you, was dating the metalhead, three-times senior freak of not only high school, but of the whole town.

“Yes it is, love. I can just give you another one, don’t worry— Look, I can give you the one I’m wearing…”

“I don’t want that one” He said, his words sounding almost like a tantrum. “I want the one you gave me on our first date, the yellow one with little sunflowers”

“Daisies, Eddie” You corrected him with a smile. Only Eddie was able to remember such a tiny detail and forget a crucial detail.

Only Eddie was able to make you feel loved, cherished and appreciated. He was so different from every other person you have dated before. He snatched your heart from the very first day and it’s been a daily occurrence for almost a year. The scary, weird freak, the person considered a devil worshipper, the mean senior who had the admirable (or idiotic) courage to stand out against others who felt like they had the right to humiliate and ridicule those who weren’t like them. Your Eddie, the one who broke a jock’s nose one time for slapping your ass walking through the halls. Your Eddie, who waited patiently until every extracurricular activities you were into were over, so he could drive you home and hold your thigh and listen to you throughout the whole ride. Your Eddie, who loved Saturday night because it meant movie night, cuddles and kisses. The mean freak who let you braid his hair, paint his nails, sew his old t-shirts.

The Eddie Munson who was scared of spiders but wasn’t scared of a hundred people crowd. The boy who initiated a food fight at the cafeteria and had to go to the nurses office because an orange hit his eye and he realized he was allergic to them. The man who every Friday made fairy tales, knight stories and evil monsters come true and walk this very earth with just his voice and his imagination at his D&D club. Your Eddie, who on your first date, dropped a chocolate milkshake on top of your white dress, forgot to fill his fuel tank, and had to push his van all the way to the nearest gas station.

That’s how the bright scrunchy ended up in his hair, in a makeshift ponytail that you made by running your delicate fingers through his tangled hair.

That was your Eddie.

Your Eddie. Yours. Yours.

“Fine, let’s go find it” You said, grabbing his hand and kissing his knuckles. “Tell me what you did today…”

Sorry for any mistakes! English is not my first language. Thank you for reading!˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

[narafeedee]

Do you think you could talk more about what happened during those five weeks where you gained 50 lbs? I can only imagine that it was a mixture of amazing and annoying to grow so rapidly, but I'd love to hear your thoughts on it!!

sure!

before i start i have to preface with some warnings; this gets pretty detailed and graphic regarding some of the health issues i had at the time. do not read if you are not okay with that please.

i was in a weird spot at the time; my husband had left me a couple months before all of this and i was exploring myself and who i was now that my marriage was over. a large contributing factor to that separation was feedism; my sexual needs just were not met with someone who wasn’t into it.

it started early in the week of Thanksgiving, Tuesday 11/20/18. i met a feeder online four years prior who had gotten me from just above 200lbs to 300lbs slowly but steadily. to this day the best feeder i’ve ever met, sincerely considerate and never once crossed any boundaries.

he came to me with a proposition the weekend prior; gain from 300lb to 350lb by the end of the year and i will fund it.

say less.

that Tuesday was the first time i ever video called with another feedist; it wasn’t the feeder that proposed and funded this challenge, instead it was a guy that pushed me to eat until i threw it all back up because he’s really into emetophilia, i didn’t really know the limits of my stomach so i let him.

however, that evening launched me into the most insane five weeks of my life.

when i woke up Wednesday morning i was somehow starving; despite not keeping anything down the night prior my stomach had still stretched out considerably. that on top of how insanely horny i was at the thought of packing on 50lbs by new years i spent the entire day shoveling in as much food as humanly possible. i didn’t count calories that day, just pushed myself to the absolute limit.

when i woke up Thursday i was impossibly hungry and ready to do it all again. i did the same thing as before, just as much food as humanly possible all day; i distinctly remember dinner being a large pizza, garlic knots, specialty chicken, lava cakes, and a 2 liter of soda from Domino’s.

when i woke up Friday i had a goal; 10,000 calories a day until the ball drops.

and that is exactly what i did.

every morning i would wake up and drink a pint of heavy cream for an easy 1600 calories to start the day right. i would swing by McDonald’s on my way to work and get two McGriddles and a large iced coffee. i’d get to work and have a blender bottle on my desk also full of heavy cream and sometimes condensed milk, i would either drink straight from it or add it to cups of coffee from the break room.

at lunch i would always order with my coworkers to have something delivered… but i would also leave on my lunch break and go back to McDonald’s for 4 McChickens and a large diet coke. then come back to the office and eat the lunch i had ordered with my coworkers.

after work i would swing through another drive thru, often McDonald’s once again. I’d get a couple sandwiches but nothing crazy, just a light snack to hold me over til dinner.

i would order massive feasts for delivery from Domino’s or I’d go back out after dark and order enough food for a family of 4. you guessed it, usually from McDonald’s.

to finish my night, i would drink another pint of heavy cream. totaling 3200 calories of straight fat every single day.

the weight piled on rapidly; new stretchmarks were appearing daily.

this is where i should put a disclaimer. this is all 100% true, every single detail is lived experience. i know it sounds insane. it was. i have literal scars to prove it. one feedist saw me do it live and in person, in the flesh, i believe he follows me on here so if you’re reading this G, please corroborate.

i gained 10lbs a week through the end of the year. i was cumming harder than i ever had before. my entire life was consumed by food and gaining.

i did not have a bed to sleep in at the time; there were some other issues i was dealing with that made it so i had to sleep in a recliner in my living room.

because i was gaining so rapidly and sleeping with my legs below my heart, i developed extremely bad edema. my legs were so swollen they started to weep a clear liquid; i would put on a pair of leggings and they would be soaked from the knee down before i even left the house. my shoes were soaked. i developed ulcers on my shins that just would not heal, the skin almost looked necrotic but they would just weep all day every day with no relief and stick to anything i tried to wear.

mid-December i was bursting out of my clothes. most of the weight i gained went straight to my belly. i went on a little shopping spree at Torrid and had to buy all 5’s and 6’s for the first time.

my mobility suffered at this point as well. i couldn’t do much of anything without getting red-faced and winded within a minute of moving. i had a step tracker at the time and was only walking about 200 steps a day, literally the bare minimum for me to go to work and come home.

i had no time for my body to adjust to the weight so i developed a heavy waddle. my back absolutely killed me.

i swear some days i woke up actually feeling fatter and looking fatter. it was the absolute hottest thing i have ever done and probably ever will do. i started at about 303lbs and landed at 357lb on New Year’s day. my gains didn’t actually slow down til i was in the mid 360s despite my efforts to pump the brakes.

would i do it again? absolutely not. i was in excruciating pain and the ulcers on my legs did not stop for an entire year (after i gained another 50lbs in an 8 week period but we ain’t talking about that [even tho i still have all the content i made from that gain lol])

but if i went back in time i would not change a thing except better leg elevation and compression. i do not regret it for a second; it’s what shaped me as a feedist and i’m grateful i was able to do it, i don’t have pics from when it was really bad but the scars i have today are still evident.

so yeah! that’s the story! sorry it’s super rambling, i sincerely hope it was coherent, now i gotta go clean my toys so i can take care of myself cause lord 🥵 thems some intense memories, my only regret is i deleted 99% of the pics and videos i took at that time.

here’s a couple more pics; one is my cart at the grocery in early December, the other is a screenshot of the weight gain calculator i used from the same week when i realized i didn’t have to eat 10k a day, i could make it happen with 7k a day but the former sounded much better (read: hotter) to me

[thefaefiction]

In Too Deep. [Tom Hiddleston x Reader]

PAIRING: Tom Hiddleston x Reader GENRE: Smut !! WARNINGS: Age gap, teacher x student relationship, smut, daddy kink, praise, piv sex, choking, degradation if you squint, aftercare, fem!reader, written with a chubbier reader in mind but it's not obvious, also the beginning is rushed SUMMARY: After developing an intense relationship with your English professor Mr. Hiddleston, you both are in too deep to let it go to waste.

A/N: im not gonna lie i had no clue how to actually begin this fic because it's literally just an excuse for me to indulge in my delusions so sorry that the first couple paragraphs are weird and rushed </3 also the school email domain is fake idk if it's real don't pay attention to it LMAO

Your obsession with your English professor was no secret to your friends. Elio, your long term best friend and dormmate, has had to interrupt you from your delusions on more than one occasion which was already one too many -- whether that be purposefully failing a paper to see him after class, wearing a skirt far too short and dropping a pencil in a calculated manner in front of him, or staring at him a little too intently during lectures -- it was becoming a problem.

In the professor's multiple classes of forty-some-odd students, there really were only a few that were delusional enough to believe they could sleep with their teacher. The difference between you and them was that you were patient with your actions and the effects it had on him.

Ultimately your patience paid off, as one Friday you received an ominous email with the heading titled 'Make-up Work' from a particular 'thiddleston@ccu.edu.' In the details, he simply requested your presence at a disclosed location only ten minutes from campus on Sunday. It was not an office nor a dorm, but a house.

It wasn't long before his intentions were made clear when you arrived; his eyes dark with lust and a half buttoned shirt upon opening the door.

"(Y/N)," He welcomed, cocking his head and shutting the door behind you. "Lovely to see you."

"Pleasure's mine," You reply, never breaking eye contact. You slide your coat off and he takes it in his hands, hanging it up for you. You knew where the night was going to end -- inviting a student to talk not just outside of office hours, but in the professor's home, is not something usual.

"I thought we could discuss an appropriate way to help get your grade back up in my class," He begins. His eyes look down for a moment, observing your obviously risqué attire. "Do you have an idea as to what way that might be?"

He was going to make you say it. There was no way around it. Still, you decided to entertain his antics until it was made painfully and obviously clear he was trying to get you to say what you know he wants you to say.

"I think," You start, voice beginning to shake. The confidence you had starting this endeavor was suddenly challenged. "I think one-on-one time is certainly needed." You press your lips together in a line.

He hums, taking an agonizing step closer. He looks down into your eyes, furrowing his brows and letting out a soft laugh. "I'm not dumb, (Y/N)," he retorts. "I know you're a smart girl. You're excellent, actually -- some of the best writing from all of my classes combined." The professor stops, taking a step back to his original position. "So why are you really here?"

A moment of silence.

"You know why," You sheepishly croak out.

"Flatter me by saying it, then." He raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms and waiting for you to speak.

"I want you to fuck me."

With the words already said, there was no going back. Your chest sunk, a feeling of embarrassment creeping up and beginning to eat away at your skin. All of those feelings were put to rest the second your professor spoke: "Was that so hard to ask, love?"

Professor Hiddleston turned on his heel, two fingers signaling you to follow him like a lost puppy. He led you down a long hallway in painful silence, finally twisting the knob to a door that revealed his bedroom. It was sleek and clean, covered in shades of black and gray with no mess dared to be left out.

He shut the door behind you and immediately began unbuttoning his shirt, holding your gaze with his light eyes. "Quickly," He commented. "I don't like waiting."

Your face flushed, embarrassed at his demand. You looked away and lifted the hem of your shirt-

"You will look at me," He orders, finishing the last button. "With how bold you are in my classroom I would've thought you'd take more control," He pokes, smirking. "Who would've thought you're just a shy little girl desperate for attention from her professor?"

Your thighs squeezed together, you're sure it doesn't go unnoticed as he grins the moment it occurs. You lift your top off as he watches, simultaneously beginning to unbuckle his belt. The sound makes you shiver.

"Good girl," He praises. You shiver in response.

As he tosses his belt to the side, you begin sliding your skirt off, letting it fall to the ground and pool at your feet. Your professor mimics with his slacks, walking closer and caressing your cheek. "Bed."

You obey, laying down on his duvet as he crawls up your body, sending shivers down your spine. "Professor-"

"Tom," He corrects. "No need for formalities at this point, yes?"

You blush before continuing. "Tom, are you sure?"

"I've been sure since the first time you tried to tease me in class," He replies. "I don't think you understand that I think about you every fucking night in my bed, about the things I would do if I were just able to have you."

You smile, your confidence returning almost instantly. "You have me, sir."

Tom grunts in the back of his throat, his body towering over you as he tears your underwear off, the cracking of the seams startling you. Immediately his hands find your sex, running his hands over it and around your thighs. His hands diligently run under your back, you arch, giving him easier access to remove your bra.

"God, you're stunning," He whispers before connecting his lips to yours. He pulls on your face, his teeth making contact with your lips and bruising their pink color in moments. As he pulls away, a string of saliva connects your mouths and you squirm beneath him.

Tom sits up and begins removing his boxers. The tent in them is noticeable -- and horrifying. You can tell he's big even without seeing it.

Not like you've thought about it before, though.

Now completely undressed, he puts his hands under your waist and drags you forward with a grunt. His hands dig at the fat of your hips and travel along your plush thighs, a moan escaping your lips as his fingers dance on your skin.

"Does my little girl need her professor's cock?" Tom provokes, sliding his shaft between your folds -- up and down, up and down, up and down.

You whine, nodding eagerly in hopes to get him to just put it in already, but your meek noise wasn't good enough for him. "Use your big girl words, darling." He puts his thumb and pointer finger against your chin, urging you to look at him him; eyes burning through your skull.

"Daddy," You spit out too quick, back arching. "Please, need you inside of me so bad!" The sheer volume of your pleas and the new title takes Tom aback, yet his cock ached with every sultry word you spoke.

"Good girl," He praises, grinning at you beneath him. You watch as he inserts himself, pressing just the head into your heat. You let out a guttural moan, eyebrows furrowing in a lovely mix of pain and pleasure. He begins slowly easing himself into you further, inch by agonizing inch, until he completely bottoms out; releasing a groan as his head lolls back. "God, you feel so good princess," He praises, "Taking me so so well, yeah?"

His words struck a chord within you, forcing a smile on your face. You whimper, brain not being able to form a complete thought at how deep he was inside you and how just damn good it felt. He was much bigger than anyone you'd taken before by a longshot. Your walls clenched around him and he laughed, cock twitching inside of you. He slowly slides back, leaving just the head in, and then pushes forward quickly, earning a loud, needy, moan from your lips. "Look at you, so drunk on me, hm?" He says, pulling back and then ramming himself deep into you, bruising your cervix. "Tell me what you want, doll. What is it you need from daddy?" He teases, never averting his eyes from your gaze.

"Please," You whine, "Need you to to move, need daddy to make me come!" And without hesitation, he picks up the pace, rapidly fucking you while his hands grip the headboard. You can hear it hitting the wall, and suddenly you're glad he has a house instead of an apartment. The noises you're making are obscene, something any practiced Catholic would need to cross themselves after hearing. "Feels so good daddy!" You spit, earning a groan from him.

Tom turned almost animalistic during sex; his grunts sounding more and more like growls as he fucks you brainless. "Fuck!" He moans, taking a hand off of the wood above you. He quickly puts his free hand on your throat, squeezing and forcing your eyes to meet his once again. "Like being choked by daddy, yeah? Like daddy to make you feel powerless, hm?" He smirks, observing the visual pleasure and shock on your face.

You're so close, you can feel yourself on the verge of your orgasm, and his dirty talk was pushing you even closer. The hand on your throat squeezed, and you clenched down on him, causing Tom to curse under his breath. "Want your cum daddy," You squeak out, "Pleasepleaseplease!" You mumble in strands of pleasure.

"Feel so good," He praises. "Come for me, be a good girl and come for daddy, yeah?" He was fucking you hard, and fast, and he still managed to pick up the pace. His skin slapped against your skin, filling the room with hard smacks and grunts and moans; endless strings of 'daddy' and 'good girl' running from both of your lips.

"Want you inside me daddy," You choke out. Your head lolls to the side and bounces against the pillow, a lazy smile forming on your face. "P-please!" You whine.

That pushed Tom over the edge. He was too far lost in himself, leaning down and growling into your ear. "Ask and you shall receive," he teases.

As if on cue, you both come together, the wave of pleasure rushing over you both. You could feel his warmth filling you up, leaking down your heat and spilling onto his bed. "Fuck, Y/n!" He grunts, "Took me so so well little girl."

You couldn't think, let alone speak. Tom stayed inside of you, helping you ride out your orgasm, not wanting the feeling of your sweet sex to leave him. He took his hand off of your throat and stroked the site, soothing the redness with a sultry kiss. You hummed in response, letting your body fall limp. After a few moments, he pulled out.

About three things Tom was absolutely certain: One, he should’ve never become romantically entangled with one of his students. Two, engaging in this behavior put his entire career in jeopardy due to it being wildly illegal. Three, he was, without a doubt in his mind, unconditionally in love with everything about you.

As you laid on his chest, foreheads drenched in sweat and bodies stuck together, you felt more at home than you'd like to admit. One hand messaged your back, drawing figure-eights on your skin, and the other pet your hair, occasionally drawing his lips close to kiss the top of your head. You burrowed your head into him, clinging onto his body. He grinned.

"I should've never let it go this far," Tom said, his voice raspy and deep with post-sex clarity, "but I'm afraid I'm in too deep to give it up now." He let out a low laugh, your head bouncing with his chest.

You smiled. "I'm afraid I wouldn't have been able to return to normal after this," You commented, "and, well, not to be dramatic but having sex with your professor twice your age does things to you." Tom chuckled, looking down at you and tilting your head up to meet his eyes.

"This is all so wrong," He mumbled, furrowing his eyebrows and pressing his lips together, "And yet I wouldn't have it any other way." He pressed a kiss to your lips, the kind of kiss that left a permanent stain of love and lust on your mouth. It was deep, meaningful, and romantic. Tom stared at you, taking in your features and basking in each and every one. "You are breathtaking, darling."

You hid your face in his neck, attempting to suppress the toothy grin you'd almost shown him, however he pulls your head up with his pointer finger and thumb, admiring your rosy cheeks. "Poor baby, so sensitive to my compliments," He jests, letting out a low hum.

You roll your eyes at him. "It's not my fault that daddy somehow knows all of the words that light a fire in me," You emphasize on the word 'daddy,' which forces what sounded like a groan from the back of his throat. "I don't want to go," You admit, falling back into his embrace.

"I know love," He says calmly, stroking your hair and pulling you into him tight. "We can stay like this as long as you'd like, but eventually I'll have to bring you back."

You hum into just chest. "Just a little bit longer," you say to Tom. "I'm still recovering."

⟡

When you arrived back at your dorm, much later than you anticipated, Elio looked at you with an eyebrow raised and a smirk on his face. "Back so soon?"

"Shut up," You laughed, dropping your bag to the ground and kicking off your shoes. You wobbled into the dorm, legs still sore and threatening your balance. Clearly Elio had noticed this, as the first thing he said after greeting you was "Well aren't your movements suspicious," and your cheeks flushed red. "I do not need to explain my late night endeavors and my later night actions," You began, "But,"

"But..?" Elio lead, leaning forward in his seat.

"But." You ended, pressing your lips together with a hidden grin and nodding your head.

"No!" He gasped, smiling widely and clasping his hands, putting his chin on the top of his fingers. "Please tell me everything! Not that I need to know the gory details of your sex life but, like, was he..?" Elio put his hands in front of him, fingers forward, and spread his arms apart.

"Shut up!" You giggled, swatting his hands. "But yes. Yes he was. Very."

"I knew it." He said, shaking his head. "I knew he was packing."

"Not to ruin our gossip but I need to lay down with a heating pad or something because standing is hurting my body," You laughed. "I think that man busted my cervix."

"Okay, TMI," He said, rolling his eyes. "But honestly go get some rest, lord knows you need it for seeing him tomorrow."

You were confused at first, then realized that tomorrow you had Tom for English, and you had absolutely no idea how you were supposed to face him when the night before he had you moaning 'daddy' and railed you into oblivion. But that was an issue you could deal with tomorrow. Probably. Hopefully.

ⓒ THEFAEFICTION, 2023. DO NOT TRANSLATE, REPUBLISH, OR CROSS-POST WITHOUT EXPLICIT CONSENT.

[dilatorywriting]

Hi hi! So this is a request for the 4k followers thing and if it sounds like word vomit I apologize cuz I have no idea how to word this. Could I ask for prompt 10 ("I think we should go to dinner first.") with mc x azul? The scenario here is like that one twitter post that was going around awhile ago about how a falls first but b falls harder, with a being azul and how once he realizes his feelings he resigns himself to forever pining from afar bc he's convinced himself that any relationship between them would be doomed to failure since mc is from another world and would have to go home someday. But while mc is a bit dense when it comes to their own romantic feelings they've always been an upfront person and as soon as they realize they like him they kinda just,,,, barge into his office and say so, and I feel like the sentence prompt would be said by azul after a pretty intense make out session (maybe nothing spicy spicy but yeah) where at the end oh yeah he remembers he's a gentleman

Also after a bit of searching I found the twitter post I was talking about

Gender Neutral Reader x Azul Ashengrotto Word Count: 1.5k

Prompt 10: "I-I think we should go for dinner first."

[EVENT MASTERLIST]

Azul had been avoiding you.

Which was so strange and wholly out of character that the first few days of it went by in a weird sort of fugue. You hadn’t even noticed an entire week had passed in blissful, mafioso-free silence until you were heading to your Friday night shift at the Lounge and realized you hadn’t seen your favorite octopus even once. Normally the House Warden was fluttering around you like a scam artist to an old folks’ home. Poking, and prodding, and ‘ah, Prefect, I know you weren’t a fan of the last contract, but perhaps this one would suffice, hmm?’

And when you arrived in the little, employee-only locker room—still fully unbothered and not offered even a single opportunity to sell your soul—you wondered if maybe he’d gotten sick.

You were in the middle of taking some Savanaclaw student’s order when you finally saw him at all. Just a quick glance out of the corner of your eye to catch his shining, silver head of hair popping into his office. You smiled brightly and offered a wave. But Azul only went stiff and closed the door with a bang.

Which was…

Huh.

“Is Azul feeling okay?” you asked Jade between running an armload of drinks to a table of Pomefiore students.

The eel hummed and gave you one of those smiles that never really looked like it was meant to be a smile. “Our fearless leader is clinically sound.”

You frowned. Because that felt like one of the Vice Warden’s non-answers that he’d throw your way sometimes like a taller, meaner older sibling holding your favorite toy just out of reach.

“So he’s alright?” you pressed, hesitant.

“Oh, I never said that,” he chirped pleasantly, before ducking off to go catch the stack of plates that Floyd was in the process of juggling through the kitchen.

The bubbling panic popping in your gut was the worst sort of tummy ache. The kind that spread its miserable pain until it’d left your chest hurting, and head spinning, and something deeply wrong throbbing at the heart of you. Because Azul, despite his inherent tendencies to treat you like a particularly stupid pack mule, was still your best friend. The person you cared about most in all the world! Sure, he enjoyed bamboozling you and your fellow students, but, like he hadn’t done anything genuinely malicious in ages now! Like a paid hitman retiring into selling seedy vacation timeshares.

The idea of him just—just not wanting you anymore struck something horrible in you. Of finally realizing that the silly little human from worlds unknown wasn’t worth the wobbly pair of legs you were standing on. And it left you feeling small, and afraid, and—and—

“Oh? Are you feeling unwell, Prefect?” Jade called from somewhere behind you.

“Does Azul hate me?” you blurted out before you could help yourself.

The eel blinked his bi-colored eyes at you—slow and unbothered. Perhaps a bit surprised, if you had to put a name to the expression. Jade’s face was like that sometimes. An enigma. Like someone had wired him up just slightly wrong when putting it all together. On any other living creature, that sap-slow nonchalance would have certainly bordered on outright boredom, but you knew him well enough to know there was at least something else going on there.

“Why would he hate you?” he asked, equally dripping and slug slow.

“Because—!” you squawked, and waved your hands around your head. “Because!”

“I see,” he nodded. And then latched a gloved hand onto your shoulder and steered you back towards his boss’s office. He didn’t even bother to knock before wrenching the door open and shoving you inside.

Azul looked up with a start, eyes gone wide behind his glasses and jaw slack.

“What’s going—”

“The Prefect is on the verge of psychotic break,” Jade chirped helpfully, with a closed-eyed smile. “Please be delicate with them, hmm?”

And then slammed the door shut all over again. Leaving you alone with the guy who might have only very recently started to hate your guts. Or—or maybe he always had! And maybe you’d just been really, really dumb about picking it up! You wanted to scream. Or hide away forever. Azul looked like the latter was an exceptionally tempting idea, and you could see his blue eyes flicker around the room like he was looking for an escape route.

But the idea of him running away from you, that you’d never see him again—that he didn’t want to ever see you again—had something horribly enlightening clicking into place in your brain.

“Are you okay!” you asked, so loud it nearly rattled the furniture. And Azul flinched in surprise. “Did I do something wrong!”

“What?” he blinked, startled. “Of… Of course not.” He cleared his throat and stood carefully, making his way towards you in the manner one may approach a rabid racoon hiding under their porch. “Perhaps you should take a seat—”

“I can’t!” you cried, frantic. “Not if you’re upset!”

Another of those owlish, outright consternated bouts of blinking. “You can’t sit?”

“No!” you wailed. That prickling, hot, tight feeling nearly overflowing out of you. “Not if it’s my fault!”

His expression twisted up into something mulish and embarrassed, and he reached up to push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose with a soft huff.

“…it’s hardly your fault,” he said, sounding so stupidly sad that you just wanted to—to—

“How can I fix it?” you tried, panicked. Because he didn’t want to be around you anymore, and you couldn’t lose him. You couldn’t!

Azul sighed, gaze shifting away yet again. He offered you a tight, little smile that felt like all sorts of lies. “It’s alright, Prefect. Truly. It’s just something…” he trailed off, that forced smirk twitching off his lips like he couldn’t help it. “Something I’m learning to live with, hmm? Nothing terrible, I promise.”

“You shouldn’t have to live with something that’s bothering you,” you argued, firm. “You’re the king of fixing other people’s problems. You’re more than allowed to use all those connections and stuff to fix your own!”

“I’m afraid it doesn’t really work like that,” he tried, awkward, and you steamrolled on.

“Why not?! You’re amazing! And fantastic! And I love you so much, and you should never have to be upset about anything. And if you’re not in my life for the rest of my life, I’d rather die!” you wailed, and gasped—clapping your hands together like the idea that had just blossomed in your skull was just beyond brilliant. “We should get married!” And then, to sweeten the deal, “Think of the tax benefits!”

“I—” Azul choked, going as red as a tomato. “Y-You—”

“—love you very much!” you finished helpfully.

He ducked his face into his hands, like he could scrub the blush right off his cheeks if he tried hard enough.

“Y-You can’t—” he spluttered into his gloves. “You can’t just say things like that.”

“Why not?” you demanded. “It’s true!”

Azul’s shoulders hunched up like he was trying make himself very, very small. And then after a long moment of near hyperventilating into his palms, he finally looked back over at you from behind the shield of his fingers.

“You…” he swallowed. “You love me?”

You nodded, certain. Becauese what else could that warm, bright, all-consuming thing be in your chest be but that?

“You,” he said again. “Love me?”

“Yes,” you agreed, never more sure of anything than that. “And we should get married.”

Azul choked again and went back to hiding behind his fingers.

“Unless…” you started, trailing off as something horrible and unsure squirmed through your chest. “Unless you don’t want to, of course. It should be your choice too. Just because I love you, doesn’t mean you have to love me, y’know?”

“That’s not what I said!” he squawked, head snapping back up so fast he nearly knocked the glasses off his face. And then he went red all over again, all the way to the tips of his ears, and he was reaching up to pull the rim of his hat down over his eyes with a curse. “I just…” he began, muffled behind the fabric of his overcoat. “Maybe… dinner first?” he choked. “Before the proposal.”

“Oh,” you blinked, startled. “Of course. That makes sense.”

“That makes sense,” Azul echoed, sounding like you’d come up from behind him and walloped him with a baseball bat rather than just suggested a completely rational and beneficial mutual engagement. “I… I don’t know why I’m surprised at all.”

You quirked a brow. “Were you… expecting me to say that?” you asked confused.

This time he did look back up at you fully. Hands lowered, and the shield of his collar gone and all. The smile he sent you was small but so, heartachingly warm that it had butterflies dancing in your stomach.

“No,” he hummed, sounding impossibly pleased. “I really, really wasn’t.”

.

.

[sadlynotthevoid]

Once I had this dream about a modern lcf AU where Lily was like 13~14yo and somehow got involved into an otome-novel-ish type of drama. What I mean is: some girl at school was going around acting like she was such a sweetheart and making others believe Lily was a mean rich girl who bullies her.

She was very sad because a lot of people, including some friends, actually fell for it and treated her as if she was a villain. More and more people avoided her and frowned when they saw her. People who she used to play and chat now talked bad about her. And only a few close friends seemed to believe in her and treat her kindly.

She's brave and bold, but she feels really lonely right now.

And she didn't know how to tell her family. She hasn't heard that any of them had had such a problem before. What if they don't understand? (What if they don't believe her?)

One day, Cale (the original one) entered into her room while she was crying after a bad day. His brain's alarms started to sound. Whom the fuck hurt his little sister? She's a good kid who only wants to train with swords and eat sweets.

So he sat next to her and comforted her, softly humming a song. It felt so nostalgic (though she's not sure why) that Lily ended up spilling out everything. He promised things were going to get better. Then proceeded to distraught her with a gift and a promise to sparr with her.

It was Friday at that moment. On Monday, Lily went back to school just to find out everyone acting strange. Not bad, just strange.

When she asked, her classmates explained that the troublesome girl's mother had carried her from house in house to confess the truth during the weekend. She and her mother were at the headmaster's office at the moment.

Only some people apologized, but no one kept treating her like a bad omen.

Lily didn't know how, but she was sure that Cale was somehow behind this.

Other points about the dream:

-Lily and Cale got close after this. He takes her to and from school quite often. They spar together when Cale is at home or Lily tries new things with him.

-Probably because of the reason above, I remember a scene of them ice skating at an ice rink. They seemed to like it, so hc that it becomes an usual activity for them.

-They take Bassen out for a break when he seems too meddle into his studies. Then the three of them end up sitting at an ice cream shop or a coffee shop, dumming around and ocassionally getting tutoring from Cale.

-I think Cale was on his last year of college here, but he also had a business. I think it was a fashion business but I'm not sure. I don't know why he was taking college classes when he already had a sucessful business, he's weird like that. Probably because he was bored.

-Rok Soo was his roommate. I mean it like platonic roommates, not the vine. Cale somehow convinced him to work at his company after college.

-Ohn and Lily became friends after this.

-The rest of the Henituse family didn't find out about the incident until months later. They freak out a bit before Lily tell them that Cale already solved it. And Bassen is like "yeah, that tracks", which turns into an explanation about his own past bullying situation. Which leads to them connecting the dots. They freak out.

-Cale is walking between classes when he gets a call from Deruth. Half of the campus could heard the "CaLE hENiTuSE, did you sabotage yourself to help Bassen?!". And the "WHAT DO YOU MEAN WHAT WHAT'S THE PROBLEM?! YOU COULD HAD BEEN HURT!". A few seconds later, it was the whole campus that heard the "AN ACT? IT WAS ALL AN ACT?!".

-Thanks to the people who were near enough to listen to Cale's replies, now the whole campus labeled him of eccentric genius. The general consensus is that he's a good person, too.

-The acting class teacher kept running after Cale, trying to get him into his class after he heard Deruth's last scream. He tries harder after he overhears Cale saying "what? Like it was difficult. You guys are just easy to fool" when his childhood friends asked. Amiru is between the best students, she's definitely not easy to fool.

[thornsnvultures]

anywhere || eddie munson x plus size!reader

cw: angst, talking about drug usage, eddie's in the hospital post-vecna, your mom kinda fuckin sucks, best friend!eddie who likes you more than you realize

a/n: that one line in the muppet babies theme song fucks me up every time. literally every time I hear it I tear up. so thanks for that jim henson.

-----

"When your world looks kinda weird and you wish you weren't there," Eddie's terrible Kermit impression makes you laugh so hard you almost spill the bowl of cereal you're pouring. You hit him back with your equally terrible baby Miss Piggy voice.

"Just close your eyes and make believe that you could be anywhere!"

Eddie snorts at the way your voice cracks trying to hit notes your voice was not made to hit.

"Shut up, that was flawless and you know it," you hand Eddie his bowl with a grin and plop down on the couch next to him. Were you watching cartoons made for children? Yes, but who didn't love Kermit the Frog and his adorable little muppet friends?

You missed this, being here with Eddie. A lot had changed since you started going to college last year while Eddie stayed behind to be a senior for a third time, but not this. Your friendship never changed. It was something you treasured coming home to, when you could. School was starting to pile up and these visits were becoming few and far between, but Eddie would always be your Eddie. You were sure of it.

"So you're leading up Hellfire now, huh?," you asked Eddie as you finished your cereal. He took your bowl and put it on the coffee table with his, not meeting your eyes. Maybe you shouldn't have brought it up. The two of you didn't talk about it much, him still being in school. Like you didn't want to break the spell that everything was normal. The two of you hanging out like normal, like you did since you were kids. It was comfortable, you didn't want to ruin that.

"Yeah the, uh...yeah. It's up to me now I guess. The guys know they can't compete with my campaigns."

He's smiling, all cocky because it's true, they're always amazing. But his smile doesn't quite reach his eyes.

Weren't your just saying nothing had changed? Maybe you a lot had changed and you just weren't paying attention.

"I miss adventuring with you," you sigh, snuggling into Eddie's side until he puts his arm over your shoulder. "And the guys."

"Yeah, they miss you too," Eddie's voice sounds strained. You try to move thinking you're laying on him in a weird way, but he just pulls you closer, tighter.

You spend the rest of the morning watching cartoons. Eventually you forget the weird tension, putting it aside to enjoy your day with your best friend before you have to leave again.

-----

It's a year before you see Eddie again.

School was tough, taking up so much of your free time you barely saw anyone besides the librarian and the two people you shared a dorm room with. You had tried to join a DnD club at school but your schedule didn't line up well with the rest of the group. And it wasn't the same. You missed Eddie's energy, his frantic dramatics. The guys were cool but sticklers for rules and, to put it nicely, boring.

You couldn't take being away from home any longer, you missed your friend.

So when your mom called one Friday afternoon and told you, in her own bizarre and nonchalant way, that Eddie had been in some trouble recently and, "I'm sure you saw the news about the earthquakes," you came straight home.

"You know, I always thought he was a nice boy. Did you know he was selling... grass," your mom whispered the last word like police officers would be knocking down her door if she spoke too loud.

"I didn't." You did. You also partook, but your mother didn't need to know that.

"Anyway, everyone got all upset when that little cheerleader died, but when they found him, like that, I guess they thought he was a victim too. Can't maul yourself like that, that's for sure."

"Oh my god, mom," you stand up, your chair harshly scraping against the linoleum. You can't sit here and listen to this any more.

"Where are you going? I have a pie in the oven."

Your mom follows you to the door, huffing like you're the one being ridiculous. She never liked Eddie much but the ease with which she talks about your childhood best friend being... mauled...

"I'll be back later."

You don't wait for her to respond, slamming the door as you go. You hop in the hand-me-down car your dad gave you before you left for school, peeling down the drive and heading straight for the hospital like you should've done when you got back. Tears cloud the edges of your vision until they spill over, you don't bother wiping them away.

-----

"Hey, you're Eddie's girl."

"Excuse me?"

A short, curly haired boy in a baseball cap appears next to you when you ask the receptionist where Eddie's room is located.

"It's okay, Brenda. She's with me." You snort out a laugh when the boy tips his hat to the woman behind the desk. Her smile and the wave of her hand tells you she is in fact used to this.

"I'm Dustin," the kid explains as you follow him through the maze of hallways and elevators. "Eddie's told me a lot about you. Recognized you from the picture he thinks I don't know about in his glove box. Not my fault he just shoves stuff in there. If he didn't want everything to spill out he should organize. Not that I'm great at organizing either-"

"I'm sorry," you stop Dustin's rambling, your head spinning from all that information, narrowing in on the one that stuck. "He keeps my picture in his van?"

"Yeah a few in his room too. He's just down here. You just missed the guys, Jeff had to go to work and he was their ride so they left. Wayne will be in later. He usually stops by after work."

Dustin kept talking and you tried to keep up but the closer you got to Eddie's room the more your ears rang and your chest felt tight. You knew it was bad, he'd been in for a few days and was still heavily sedated after a number of surgeries. Wayne told you the day before you came back on the phone that he might not be awake when you got here. The old man might've been trying to spare you the trip, but you were coming to see him no matter what. You should've come back a long time ago.

Standing outside his room now, the year you were away felt like an eternity now. How had your Eddie changed? Was he your Eddie anymore? Was he ever yours?

"Hey, you comin' in? He's still sleeping."

Steeling yourself with one deep breath, you enter Eddie's room. With one look at Eddie and you're asking Dustin for a minute alone, pulling up a chair by his side.

"Sorry I'm late, Eddie. Traffic coming out of the city is crazy." You laugh at your stupid joke because you'll cry if you do anything else. You don't think about the air tube in his nose or the beeping heart monitor, the bandages on his arms or how hollow, how fragile he looks.

"My mom said you've been selling 'grass'," you chuckle as you twist one of his curls around your finger. "Should I tell her how many times I snuck out to smoke with you? She's already mad at me for taking time off from school to be here."

Eddie lays there as you talk, sleeping softly as you compliment the cards and flowers on the window sill. You tell him how the past two semesters of school have been, how miserable you've been without him, how guilty you've felt for "missing" his calls, not reading his letters because you've been too exhausted to do anything that wasn't surviving and work.

You're holding his weirdly ring-less fingers, contemplating leaving instead of holding out hope that he'll wake up while you're here, when you hear a familiar theme song on the television.

"When your world looks kind of weird,"

Your gaze falls from the TV to your friend in his hospital bed.

"And you wish you weren't there,"

Your eyes close wishing you were back in Eddie's house, stoned out of your mind doing muppet impressions.

A tear falls down your cheek as you close your eyes and sing along with Miss Piggy, not caring how ridiculous you sound.

"Just close your eyes and make believe and you can be anywhere."

You choke on a sob, suddenly angry at this stupid kids show for making you lose it when you were holding yourself together so well.

"Still sounds awful."

You open your eyes, wiping your tears away with your hand not in Eddie's at the groggy sound of his voice. He's holding the other one tight, almost too tight, like you'll run if he lets go.

"That was a perfect impression," the words stutter on a heaving breath but you're smiling through it.

"I'm on so many drugs."

"I'll go get the nurse," you laugh, trying to pull yourself together.

"No," Eddie just barely tugs on your hand, not yet strong enough to pull you close. "Don't leave."

"I'm not, I won't. I'm here, Eddie. I'm sorry."

Eddie's eyes flutter shut, too tired yet for a full conversation, but he won't let your hand go. You find the call button next to the bed to call the nurse and wait.

"I'm not going anywhere."

---

--

-

🖤

[novaksupremacy]

The Backseat of My Car- Casey Novak x Alex Cabot

soooo, a little Friday morning smutty treat for my loves. ❤️ I was told part 2 of This is My Office was needed and since it'll be a while before I even get to this chapter, here's a present 😜 consider it a peace offering that it may take me a few days for Chapter 7 😅 (also if someone could teach my goofy ass how to format so that things indent properly, I'll love you forever!)

"Don't beat yourself up, that was a tough case." Casey consoled her girlfriend as they walked through the parking garage, "you know there's always the possibility that a juror will be sympathetic towards one of these crackpots."

Alex was seething mad, "Langan's just lucky I don't feel like spending the rest of my life in jail or I'd have him strung up by his testicles!"

The redhead's lip curled in disgust. She stopped walking and grabbed Alex's hand. "Babe I would really rather not think about you anywhere near that man's testicles, or any man's testicles for that matter.

"Sorry," the blonde frowned, "he just makes me so mad I could spit. I can't believe I ever went on a date with that man." She went to start walking again.

The younger ADA stopped again and pulled Alex back towards her, "Okay, what? I don't know what's worse, you, talking about his nuts or the fact that you went out with him.

Alex chuckled, "It was one date, we never made it passed the bar. I really just needed info on a case."

Casey smirked, "Ah yeah because that makes it better." She giggled and pulled her closer, "Just remember who you belong to, Alexandra Cabot."

"How could I ever forget," the Bureau Chief leaned in and kissed her girlfriend.

The redhead rested her free hand against the blonde's thigh. Her eyes lit up when she realized she was still strapped from earlier. "Babe? Your windows are tinted right?"

"Darker than they should be actually, I have to put the DA placard in the window just to avoid getting ticketed. Why?" Casey shot her a look that could only be construed as mischievous.

 "Oh. OH. Backseat." Alex said excitedly.

Both women slid into the backseat of the BMW and Casey closed the door behind them. She wasted no time tossing the blue eyed beauty's glasses into the front seat and grabbing her around the neck, pulling her in to a messy, heated kiss.

Alex chuckled as she started unbuttoning her shirt.

"What's so funny?" the redhead mused, laughing if only because Alex was.

"I feel like a teenager." This was the most relaxed the Bureau Chief had been in as long as she could remember, being with Casey felt-- effortless. "In a good way that is" she said reassuringly.

"Oh yeah? Is this what Alexandra Cabot was like in high school? Riding in cars with boys?" Her girlfriend said teasingly. "I don't know about this then, I like mature, collected, no nonsense ADA Alex Cabot Bureau Chief extraordinaire."

The blonde grabbed Casey by her collar. "The only person who's going to be riding anything is you riding me in a minute and don't worry dear, I know what it is you like." She whispered as she kissed the redhead with force, she was starving for something only Casey could satiate.

"Fuck," Casey sighed. "Alex do you have to be so damn sexy constantly."

"Do you want me to stop?" She smirked as she ruined the second one of Casey's shirts today, buttons scattering to the cars floor mats.

The younger ADAs breath hitched, “No. Don’t. Stop.” She whispered playfully pausing between words as she pulled open Alex's belt and fly. She bit her lip hard, "mmm I want to try something okay? But don't think I'm weird."

Alex's blue eyes look into her hazel green ones with curiosity. "Baby if I ever thought you were weird, ever, in the time I've known you, I meant it as the highest compliment." She leaned back against the car door.

Casey put her hand against the blondes open fly and exposed the strap she was still wearing from their earlier encounter. The ginger sat up for a minute and pulled her hair back and tied it there with a ponytail holder she had around her wrist. She leaned back down and brought the strap into her mouth and began to suck.

 The golden haired adonis' eyes grew wide. "Baby that's not weird, that's hot." She whimpered as she brought her hand to the back of her lover's head pushed down lightly while she ran her other hand through her own hair. The ADA never breaking eye contact as she went to town on the toy, running her tongue up to the tip, and then taking the whole thing into her mouth.

After a minute or two she sat back up, licking her lips, and grabbed Alex by the hips pulling her flat on the backseat. "So,” the redhead blushed, “you liked that?"

"Very much so," the blonde said panting.

"Mmm, good to know." Her devilish grin plastered across her face. With a little maneuvering and a few giggles, she was able to shimmy her way out of her suit pants and on top of her girlfriend. She steadied her balance and brought herself down on top of the strap letting out a small moan, her body shuddered as she leaned down to kiss Alex. The angle making the toy hit her just right as the blonde slowly pushed her hips up, both women groaning softly.

"Fuck that feels good." Casey mewled beginning to roll her hips against Alex.

"I bet it does," the blonde cooed thrusting her hips up slow and deliberate. Copying her lover's expression as her lips parted and she let out a soft gasp of pleasure.

The redhead pushed back against the toy holding one hand to Alex's chest and the other to the window behind her head. "Alex," she whimpered, her body craving more, "I can't take much more teasing."

“Is that so? You sure you don’t want it nice and slow,” She thrust her hips slowly, holding Casey by her waist and guiding her up and down against her body, fucking her at a torturously slow pace, continuing to mimic her facial expressions has her mouth fell open and tiny gasps and moans emanated from her throat.

“Alex,” the redhead whispered, “Fuck, Alex.”

“Well obviously if you can remember my name, I haven’t tortured you nearly enough.” The blonde smirked. Casey brought her hand to her own clit, but Alex stopped her, “Ah, no cheating baby.”

The redhead whined. She started pushing herself down harder against her girlfriend, “Alex I want you to ruin me.” She moaned as she ground her hips down.

The blue eyed beauty’s pupils dilated as she took tight hold of Casey’s hips and began thrusting. She picked up her pace a little at a time until she was slamming into Casey, who was rolling her hips, leaning over Alex whimpering in her ear.

“Mmm baby, like that,” she nibbled on the blonde’s ear, causing her to sigh, “Oh Alex, Alex. Mmm, I love the way you fill me up.” She whispered with a smirk, knowing if her hot breath kept hitting her face as she did, that Alex would cum for her before she even finished.

The Bureau Chief slammed into Casey holding her hips down tight to hers and rolling them towards her. Casey cried out as Alex did this a few more times, smacking the redheads ass each time and then grabbing a fistful of supple skin and holding on.

The redhead was getting louder, “Ahh, Alex, fuck me! Just like that, don’t stop. Don’t stop baby.”

Alex spurred on by Casey’s cries also started moaning loudly. “That’s it baby, scream for me.” The blonde loved when Casey got loud and all the little noises she could get her to make as she fucked all the right spots. Alex felt her insides flutter as Casey hit a note that she was fairly sure only dogs could hear as her juices came spilling out around the toy and onto Alex again. As they both climaxed the redhead collapsed against her girlfriend leaning up just enough to stare into her crystal blue eyes. The blonde went to sit up.

“Not yet,” the ADA whimpered, “stay inside a bit longer?” Alex obliged and began stroking her girlfriends back.

“You okay darling?” she asked, checking in.

Casey nodded, “More than okay. Just trying to come back down.” Her body shook as she had another small aftershock.

“I’ve got you baby, I’ve got you.” Alex whispered bring her into a yielding, tender kiss.

They hadn’t been kissing exceedingly long when there was a knock on the window. The women looked at each other, frozen in fear, “Cops?” Casey mouthed.

“No, this lot is run by CCTV” Alex whispered, “who would’ve called it in?”

There was another knock, this time slower, more annoyed.

Casey went to press the window down much to Alex’s protest, only to find Liz looking back at her.

The Judges face was more stern than either of them had ever seen on her worst day. Alex jerked her head around, still inside Casey, both of them half naked, Casey’s shirt completely undone.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Liz said through gritted teeth. “What the fuck is wrong with the two of you?” She put her hand up in protest, “Don’t answer that. And Casey don’t get up lest I see more of you than I want to.”

Alex tried to protest and say something, but Donnelly stopped her before she could even get a single syllable out. “Alexandra, I don’t want to hear it. What is this? Some sort of midlife crisis? Can you not fuck at home? What are you afraid the cat is watching?”

“Judge Donnelly, we’re” Casey tried to apologize.

“Not another word Novak, you’re lucky this lot is not owned by the city. For God’s sake you both work SVU, you know how bad an indecent exposure charge can get! Have you both stopped taking your medication?”

“Liz why does it sound like you’re scolding teenagers?”

“Lena, I” but before Liz could say anymore Judge Petrovsky had already approached the car window, Alex and Casey staring at her from a very compromising position.

“It would seem it’s because apparently you are. Ah, Ms. Novak it appears that your reoccurring nightmare has finally come true. Charming. Ms. Cabot, make sure you put some concealer on all of that before you get to my courtroom in the morning. I’m late for poker. Goodnight Elizabeth.” She put a hand on Donnelly’s arm and walked off towards the street.

Liz looked at the two ADAs in disbelief, “I am washing my hands of the both of you. Please fuck each other’s brains out, before you get to work tomorrow? For everyone in the building’s sake?” With the click of her heel, she walked off towards her car hidden away in the far corner of the parking lot.

Casey side, “And she wonders why those kids said she had a broom up her butt.” She rolled up the car window, and gently removed Alex from inside her, trying to maneuver enough to get her pants back on.

Alex furrowed her brow, “Wait, what?”

“Elliot tells it better.”

“Elliot?” the blonde didn’t think she could be more confused, but here she was, for the second time today, covered in Casey, just having been yelled at by Judge Donnelly, how did they get to Elliot?

They both climbed into the front seat and Alex put her glasses back on and the key in the ignition.

“Did that,” Alex started, “Did that really just happen?” she chuckled even though her hands were shaking.

“I guess we need to be more discreet at work,” Casey grimaced.

“I don’t take it back, I would take a thousand censures to here you say my name like that.” Alex said, lust dripping from her words, “I just need to stop leaving the office door unlocked or answering window knocks unless they identify themselves as the police.”

Casey raised a finger.

“Police who are not Elliot.”

Casey raised her finger again.

“Or Olivia.”

“There it is.” The redhead nodded.

[hornyhornyhimbos]

can we get a glimpse into the future of how cowboy steve and reader are doing? do they still own the bar he bought for them and do they have kids? it would be cute to see steve have a mini him that loves to ride bulls

so so sorry for just now getting around to posting this!! more on that later but for now, i hope you enjoy!!!!

"When She Says Baby" ~ S. Harrington

Summary: Excitement is high as the Harringtons celebrate the two year anniversary of opening their little bar. But for Reader, anxiety is also high as her yearly gynecologist's appointment rolls around…

Pairing: Bull Rider!Steve Harrington x AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 3,285

Content Warning: MINORS DNI (18+ content) unprotected piv sex, creampie, oral f!receiving, fingering f!receiving, breeding kink, daddy kink, sorta cockwarming but not really, sorta dubious consent (they're in an established relationship but were both tipsy beforehand), dirty talk, explicit language, alcohol consumption, lmk if i missed anything!

Extra Notes: i haven't really written a breeding kink before so if this is bad, i apologize // also really could've sworn i queued this yesterday so let's all pretend it's still filthy friday, ok??

Based On: the rest of this series and the ask mentioned above!

Originally Written: 06/23/2023 through 06/28/2023

filthy fridays | stranger things masterlist

Your veins had been burning all day with some mixture of adrenaline, excitement and anxiety.

It was the two year anniversary of opening Harrington's Honky-Tonk, which Steve had reluctantly agreed on calling it, and the day had been filled with preparation for the big party that night. Fans had come from just about anywhere in Indiana and the surrounding states when they heard Steve Harrington was celebrating the momentous occasion with half-off drinks and a big announcement at the end of the night.

Your day, however, started to go a little differently when you arrived at your gynecologist's office for your yearly check-up.

You weren't necessarily nervous because of something potentially bad. It wasn't like you were pregnant, you and Steve used two different types of protection nearly every time you had sex. And it definitely wasn't like you had an STI, considering you and Steve had been loyal to each other for so many years.

No, what had you anxious was the fact that you needed your IUD replaced. Or, maybe you didn't…

Every part of your brain knew you should've talked to Steve before the appointment about what route to take. You were a hundred percent positive that getting pregnant was nowhere in the cards for the near future. Still, some part of you knew having the IUD replaced wasn't what you wanted. So, instead of getting it replaced, you decided to simply have the old one taken out.

Some weird jumble of both guilt and relief fluttered around in your stomach the whole afternoon and into the night. The only time you'd found a tiny bit of solace was in the two shots of vodka you'd downed at the party, but toward the end of the night, it had certainly worn off and the feeling from before quickly returned.

Steve must've noticed, pulling you away from the bar and into the back room. You were tempted to down a whole bottle of vodka from the rack beside you rather than admit your secret to him, but thought better of it.

"You alright?" he asked, his hand brushing yours as if asking permission to hold it. Despite being married for over a year now and having been together for five years in total, he was still a gentleman. Holding doors for you, giving you the last of his fries, and asking permission on almost everything were practically daily occurrences with Steve around.

You nodded softly, despite being the exact opposite of that seven letter word he'd just used. "I'm okay, just stressed about tonight."

Steve's big announcement was the whiskey brand he'd been working on, and while you weren't all that nervous about the fans' reactions—you knew it would go over well, the way his fans adored him—part of you had still been a little scared about the financial aspect of it. Starting a new company was difficult—you'd both experienced that firsthand.

One of his hands moved up to cup your cheek, distracting you from your current train of thought. His thumb rubbed soft lines along your skin. "Hey, whatever happens happens, right?" he reassured you. He pulled you up for a soft kiss on the forehead, greeting you with an even softer smile when he pulled away. "It'll be okay, I promise."

'Whatever happens happens,' his words rang through your head like an alarm you wanted so desperately to turn off. Your mind wandered back to your secret, and hoped that those words would apply once again whenever you told him.

The rest of the night went by surprisingly fast and smoothly, you and Steve loosening up a little over some Jack and Cokes and a round of line dancing that neither of you were sure how you'd gotten roped into. His announcement even went over well—considering all the excited shouts and whooping that rang throughout the bar in response—and Steve seemed to be at an all time high when he pulled you toward the staircase.

In fact, you were sure you'd never seen a smile as big as the one Steve was sporting as he picked you up bridal-style, carrying you up the stairs and into your shared apartment.

The two of you had originally planned on buying a house in a nearby neighborhood, but when things fell through, you both realized just how much you liked the idea of turning the upstairs area of the bar into an apartment. Flash forward two and a half years and now, the place was transformed into a cozy little one bedroom apartment, littered with Steve's various awards and many, many pairs of cowboy (and cowgirl) boots.

Your arms were wrapped tight around his neck, a gentle smile tugging at your own lips as he kicked the door shut with his foot. Seeing Steve so excited was almost enough to distract you from the impending news you had yet to deliver.

Steve set you down on the floor, his hands making their way to your hips while his mouth locked on yours. "Did you know I love you more than anyone has ever put into words?" he asked between kisses, one hand traveling from your hip to your ass. It had been so long since Steve had gotten tipsy, you'd almost forgotten how frisky alcohol could make him.

Guilt twisted into a tight knot in the pit of your stomach. Pulling away, you decided it was best to just rip off the band-aid. You couldn't hold back any longer, you felt like you'd explode if you did. "You can't say things like that when I'm about to tell you something that'll make you hate me forever."

His face softened as he stepped closer to you. A gentle kiss brushed over your forehead before his eyes greeted yours. "I doubt you could ever do that," he countered, his hands moving back to your waist.

Your eyes parted from his, looking down at his boots and wondering just how you of all people got lucky enough to marry the best man in the whole world. A deep sigh left your mouth before the words you'd been dreading followed. "I went to the gyno today."

"Oh, yeah, your yearly appointment was today. How'd that go?"

You forced your eyes to meet his, and the remorseful feeling in your stomach twisted and writhed even harder when you saw the soft honey color that had settled in them. After that, the words tumbled out so fast that even you couldn't believe he had that much of an influence on you. "She took out my IUD! There, I said it! Stop looking at me like that!"

A string of chuckles tumbled from his lips as he bent down, his mouth melding to yours again. You couldn't lie, you were definitely shell-shocked from this unexpected reaction.

"Don't you get it?" you all but screamed as your mouths parted. "She took it out! As in, she didn't replace it! Doesn't that make you the least bit angry with me for not asking first?"

Steve shook his head as the grin from earlier made its way back to his mouth. "No, it doesn't. It's your body, you can do whatever you so please with it. It does mean a lot though that you care about my opinion so much."

Guilt was overpowered by the biggest wave of love you'd ever felt for this man. "You do realize we have to be extra careful now, right? Like, no going without a condom, taking morning after pills, the whole nine yards of precaution."

The honey color that swirled in his irises quickly turned to a lustful black. "Who said?"

You felt like you were experiencing whiplash from the amount of different emotions you'd felt in the past five minutes. You couldn't lie, you weren't opposed to having kids, but you had been absolutely positive Steve didn't want them right now, so his words definitely took you by surprise.

Your eyebrows furrowed together, but not a second later, Steve kissed away the confused crease between them. "But-"

He shook his head, already knowing exactly what you were going to say. "I never wanted to wait. Sure, a lot has happened in the past few years so the timing wouldn't have been great, but not for one second did I not want to have kids with you."

Happy tears filled your eyes as you pulled him down for a long kiss, adoration flowing from the top of your head all the way down to the tips of your toes. His hands slipped into your back pockets as he deepened the kiss, his tongue all but forcing its way into your mouth.

You pulled him ever so close, your limbs entangling like they belonged to one another. His mouth moved away from yours and down to your neck, sucking on the pulse point and eliciting a moan. Steve chuckled, pulling you toward the bed but not once removing his lips from your body.

Somewhere along the way, he kicked off his boots before pushing you back on the bed. He tugged off your sneakers, tossing them toward the shoe rack, then making quick work of your jeans. "What do you say?" he asked, kissing you again, harder and needier than he had before. "Do you want that?"

"Please," you all but begged, your hands meeting his back, nails raking the skin beneath his shirt.

"Please… what?" he asked, tossing off the skin-tight tee shirt he'd been sporting. After seeing the way it hugged the muscles of his arms and the dips of his chest and stomach, you'd been desperate for him to take it off since the moment he put it on.

Your breathing sped up as you thought about your answer. "Please," you repeated, "wanna make you a daddy. A real daddy."

His eyes were completely lust-blown by now, his fingers drawing tantalizing circles on your thigh as he leaned down to meet your still-clothed core with a soft kiss. "I like the way you think, princess."

He made quick work of your panties, his lips immediately connecting to your clit. He hummed in pleasure, the vibration only pushing you closer to the edge. Over the years, Steve had found all the perfect ways to unravel you, and you knew it wouldn't be long before you were cumming.

"Steve," you whined, your hands intertwining in his already messy hair. You guided him to where you needed him most, his tongue dipping inside you while his nose bumped against your clit. Your legs wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him impossibly closer.

He parted from you with a low laugh, your eyes rolling in both frustration and want. "Can't help it," he said, kissing your pussy again, "Gotta make sure she's ready for me."

His tongue slipped back into your hole, your wetness surely soaking the stubble that covered his cheeks. Moans and whines tumbled from your mouth, one after the other, until you were on the brink of falling apart. Your veins burned with arousal, your eyes nearly rolling to the back of their sockets when his mouth moved up to your clit, replacing his tongue easily with two fingers.

Fingertips grazed your G-spot, and in an instant, you were coming undone, all but screaming his name as you came on his tongue.

Slowly, he pulled his fingers out before holding them up to your parted lips. "Suck," Steve instructed, dark eyes meeting your glassy ones. You didn't hesitate, swirling your tongue around the digits and taking in the taste of your essence.

You worked to control your breathing as his fingers tugged at the hem of your shirt, slowly pulling it over your head, his eyes nearly popping out at the sight of your breasts and the way they all but spilled out of your bra. "Just think," he started, pulling one of them out of the cup and palming at it, his fingers twisting the bud and drawing out a mewl from your lips, "Gonna be so pretty and big." Steve was a huge fan of your boobs anyway, but you knew he was going to be utterly obsessed with how big they'd get if or when you got pregnant.

His lips wrapped around your nipple while he palmed at the neglected one. Your eyes rolled in desire, a small, "Fuck," falling from your lips.

Steve forced himself to remove his lips from you, knowing he'd stay there for hours if he didn't. He shoved his pants and boxers off in one swift motion, throwing them in the general direction of the bathroom. His cock sprung up, and you swore you'd never felt as carnal for him as you did at that moment.

"You ready?" he asked, being ever the gentleman. You nodded and in a second, he was pushing inside you. Groans and expletives tumbled from Steve's lips, his head falling forward as he slowly slid in. "Fuuuck," he sighed heavily, "I love you."

"Not as much- shit- as I love you," you exhaled, shifting your hips and chasing down the rest of his length. The crescent moons of your fingernails dug into his back, surely on the verge of making him bleed.

He slowly pulled out and pushed back in, beginning to create that perfect rhythm only he knew how to provide you with. "Yeah? Love me so much you're gonna- fuck- carry my baby around? Let everyone know who got you in that state?"

A soft whimper slipped from your tongue as you managed a nod, rutting your hips in an attempt to speed up Steve's motions.

"So needy," he teased, canting his hips faster, fast enough to catch you off guard. His cock brushed your sensitive spot, your back arching off the bed in response. "Just so ready for me to fill you up, huh?"

You whined, pulling him down with one hand while the other still scraped at his spine. Your mouths connected in a messy kiss, surely leaving your lips swollen when he pulled away. "Please," you begged again, "fill me up, daddy."

A guttural groan rolled off his tongue as his hips pistoned harder, his heavy balls slapping against you as he chased down his high. "Your wish is my command, sweetheart," he replied, his lips meeting the dip of your breasts. "Gonna get you all pretty and full, over and over again. Gonna remind you of the only man that can fill you like that."

Your pussy fluttered around him, your orgasm quickly approaching. "Fuck, Steve!" you exclaimed, surely loud enough for the people downstairs to hear. "I'm gonna-"

"Cum for me, baby," he said, somehow making the phrase sound encouraging yet filthy at the same time. "Cum all over daddy's cock, yeah?"

Whimpers and moans tumbled off your tongue as you fell apart underneath him, your hands grasping at his shoulders to steady yourself. Your toes curled, digging into his hips and pulling him even further inside you.

His hips rutted in a sloppy rhythm and you knew it wouldn't be long before he was cumming too. He sucked a harsh kiss on the dip of your neck, surely leaving a hickey in his wake. "God, you're gonna be so pretty. All knocked up with my babies. Showing everyone how willing you were for me to fill you up and fuck you right."

His name fell from your lips like a record stuck on a loop, a mantra you needed in order to survive. The overstimulation was too much and not enough all at once, your eyes crossing in pure pleasure as yet another orgasm built within you.

One of his hands gripped yours, lacing his large digits in between your smaller ones, his thumb rubbing soft lines along the back of your hand. Steve stopped mid-thrust, his previously dark eyes turning to gentle ones, and you swore you saw tears forming in them. He took a deep breath before leaning down to kiss you, a soft kiss so different from the rough, longing kisses from before. A smile pulled at his lips when he moved away, his eyes meeting yours.

"You sure about this? Last chance," he kidded, but you could tell there was some seriousness hidden behind his playful tone.

You nodded before kissing him again, your opposite hand slipping into his hair again and giving it a gentle tug. "I'm ready," you reassured him, now nearly on the brink of tears yourself. "Been ready since the day I laid eyes on you, cowboy."

He pushed back in, slowly building back up his pace and working both of you back to the brink of orgasm. His lips parted into an open 'O' as he thrusted one last time, emptying all that he had inside you as you climaxed for a third time.

It was by no means the first time you'd gone without a condom, but something about this time was different. Maybe it was knowing that you no longer had an IUD, maybe it was the risk of it sticking this time. Whatever it was, it had you feeling a closeness to Steve that you weren't sure you'd ever felt before.

He flipped the two of you over, allowing you to fall limp on top of him. Your chests heaved in lousy attempts to calm your breathing, the only noise filling the air being that of your exhales. His palm abandoned yours, moving up to your back and sliding soft lines up and down your spine. Parted lips greeted your scalp with a gentle kiss, before they moved down to your forehead, finally stopping at your own lips as he turned your face towards his.

"Stevie?" you said, looking up at him through previously mascara-coated lashes, the makeup surely having been sweated off by now.

"Yeah?" he answered, grazing another peck across your forehead.

You hated to ruin the moment but… "I need to pee."

A goofy grin formed on his face as he rolled you back over, gripping his hands around your thighs and keeping you wrapped around him. His cock was still buried inside you, still pressed against your sweet spot, still finding a way to make you moan despite barely having moved. "Sorry, can't do that."

Your head fell back against the mattress, a frustrated growl falling your lips. Sure, you weren't really all that frustrated—you could eat, sleep, and breathe with Steve's dick buried inside you and it still wouldn't be enough—but you really did need to pee, and you knew this was the only way you'd get him to pull out. "I'm gonna piss all over you and the bed if you don't let me move."

A sly smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth. "Kinky," he chuckled, "I like that in a woman."

You couldn't help the snicker that he elicited out of you. Still, you shook your head in protest. "Please? I really do need to pee."

"Gotta make sure it sticks," he countered, pulling you closer to him, if that was even possible.

This time, a smirk pulled at your lips. "I doubt it won't stick, considering how hard you just fucked me," you argued. "But I'll tell you what. If you let me go pee, you can try again," you paused, kissing his neck, "and again," a kiss on his earlobe, "and again," a final kiss on those plump, pink lips you loved so much, "until it finally does stick. How 'bout that?"

He slowly pulled out, low mewls exiting both of your mouths in sync. Steve moved just enough for you to stand up, his palm slapping your ass playfully as you began to walk away. "You wanna know something?"

"What's that?" you asked, flicking on the bathroom light.

He followed you into the bathroom, his eyes turning dark once again. "I like the way you think, cowgirl."

So... surprise??

I really did mean to post this however many months ago when I got the request. But I guess I was just never really happy with this fic and I wanted to re-write it or just trash the idea and start over but nothing really ever felt right. So I'm sticking with the original and hoping you guys enjoy! I have so much more to come for this cowboy and his girl but for now, this is where they are.

To the anon who requested this, I hope you're still around. Sorry I kept you waiting for so long. I hope it was somewhat worth the wait ❤️

-> taglist: @dungeons-are-too-cold @rupsmorge @writer-in-theory @esoltis280 @liberhoe @wifeyreid @serenity-lattes-reads

[saltofmercury]

Yooohooo

Thank you for all your lovely stories, can I put in a request... Reader came home one day with huge bruise on the side of your arms ( not because someone hurt u .. because u r clumsy. I often walk into things at work hubby is shocked how many bruises i have on my legs. ) and König's reaction?

Thank you if you decided to accept :D

Pairing: König x f!reader

author's note: I wrote this but never published?

"Clumsy"

Since you were a kid, you have been labeled clumsy. Clumsy was a nice word for it but holy hell did you bump, hit, fall, and bruise the hell out of your body.

Your parents had put you in gymnastics to hopefully get you to stay still or gain some balance, but you came home with a few broken arms, a few broken wrists, and your ego shattered.

Progressing into your teen years, you had become somewhat better at your balance, but while your mind raced with a million thoughts, your body could never really keep up. Adulthood was the same, but you had always wanted to be two steps ahead in your head and your body, rushing to keep up.

When you met König, it wasn’t any better. Your first date you had dropped the water onto the table, dropped the utensils on the floor, and to make the date even more disastrous, you had even dropped some of the food you had been eating onto your shirt.

“Sorry!” You exhaled attempting to clean up the mess you made on your shirt. “I’m a bit clumsy.”

König had been relieved someone was taking the first date jitters to an extreme and it wasn’t him. He seemed enamored by it, wondering if you were really clumsy or nervous like he was.

It wasn’t until one night that you guys had been inseparable making out like teenagers on the couch that he had slowly taken off your top and had your breasts in his mouth that he realized a bruise on your arm.

He wondered if it was the way he grabbed you and pulled you into him that he was the one who left the mark.

“Oh, shit, are you okay?”

You had been mentally in the moment wondering why his mouth and hands weren’t on you. 

“Yeah everything’s good, keep going.”

“No schatz, what’s this?”

He had held your arm in his hand, wrapped around it, rubbing the deep purple mark with his thumb.

“Oh! I got that at work.” You had said embarrassed that you bruised easily.

He had looked at you with concern, this bruise looked too purple, almost red, and it was placed on your arm. 

“How did you get this at work?”

“I was racing inside from the rain and had bumped into the door frame while I slipped.”

He looked at you, baffled by how you said it so casually. 

“You did this to yourself?”

“Mhmm” you nodded, wanting to shut him up and get his mouth on your body.

He dropped it, but König kept this in the back of his head, wondering if there was any sort of weird thing happening at work, he would not stop himself from intervening.

So the next day that he walked you to work hoping and praying that there was some asshole lurking nearby just so he could get his hands on them. Tucked under his arm under a wide umbrella, you had babbled his ear off, your fingers interlaced with his on your shoulder.

“Well I gotta send those emails out because otherwise I’ll never remind the staff, I also needed to place an order for more ink for the office, I swear we go through it so much. I also think Friday I’ll bring donuts in for the staff since they worked so hard the last two weeks pitching the ideas to our boss and —“

You had slipped, but luckily caught by him, his arm wrapped the front of your body.

“Careful” came out as an order. He had seen how careless you were crossing the street, walking into puddles. Your shoes were not rain boots, but converse high tops. Now here you were slipping right next to him. Jesus, he thought. This woman is in the clouds more than on earth. 

He walked you to the door, inside of the building and sure enough, you bumped into the door frame again, with the same arm.

“Thank you for walking me!”

“I’ll be here at lunch time, so don’t order out.” He had scoped the large office, just to be sure, there wasn’t some asshole, then kissed you goodbye and walked to a cafe to get your lunch. 

By the time he had come back, he saw you in motion.

You had been running around the room, talking with a colleague, then bumping into the large printer. You barely rubbed your side, eyes glowing and continued the conversation with your friend as she had reached over and double checked if you were ok.

He saw you get up to refill your bottle from the water cooler, knocking down the big plant in the office. 

Holy shit, it was such a sight. You weren’t mentally on earth ever. You had visited, but remained mentally on Saturn. He adoringly watched you stumble across your own two feet.  Why your parents hadn’t named you klutz was beyond him. 

You saw him peering through the office, and you ran over. His eyes widened, his heart raced, standing up and going towards you hoping that you would not fall down. 

“Hi! Long time no see” you said. You brought him over to the designated eating area, where he had told you to sit, seeing you bounce up and down for lunch.

As soon as you stuffed your face, he made the confession.

“So, about walking you to work…”

“Mmmm?”

“The reason I walked you to work today was because I needed to make sure nobody had any issues with you here.”

“Oh? Like what kind of issues?” You had been thinking of asking him for a bite of his food.

“The bruise I saw on your arm was so bad that I needed to make sure it was purely accidental, and not on purpose.”

“Oh! Can I have some of yours?”

He pushed the plate towards you, one eyebrow raised.

“I told you I bumped into the frame. No big deal.”

He then exhaled, laughing at you.

“But have you really seen yourself schatz? You’re the definition of clumsy.”

You looked at him, like it wasn’t a big deal. Clumsy, forgetful, uncoordinated were all in your dictionary. 

“I think you need to slow down schatz. Really be in the moment sometimes. Aware of your surroundings.”

You nodded, but didn’t really listen. He could sense you weren’t listening, so he made a deal with you. 

“You come to the gym with me 3x out of the week, work on your coordination, I’ll buy you that weird pumpkin pot you’ve kept mentioning every night.”

You looked at him, “Le Creuset Cast Iron Pumpkin Cocotte?”

“Whatever it’s called. That I will buy you. But please, we need to work on your coordination.”

And so, began the weekly sessions at the gym, where you focused on your environment, you focused on one thing at a time, where your thoughts weren’t racing every 5 minutes.

You also focused on him, how great he was, and how sweet he was that he took time out of his gym time to help you.

[alovesongtheywrote]

pretty please write another chapter of nightmare academia!! /nf your writing is so good!!

♥ Summary: thank you!! here u go!! In this chapter of Nightmare Academia, Reid fixes your mistakes and you get all blushy about it.

♥ Warnings: a minor character deals with intrusive thoughts and self-worth issues. also, implications of gambling and mentions of sex

♥ A/N: yay, chapter complete! now if spencer could come and tell me that i'm better than my intrusive thoughts, that would be great <3

♥ Word Count: 1,970

Series Masterlist

♥♥♥

Spencer was having an okay sort of day.  Yes, it was a Monday, but despite all that, things had gone somewhat well.  His classes had passed by smoothly, his students had asked all the right questions, and the heat in the building had come back on.  The terrible cursed image you had set as his desktop screen seemed less cursed today, and none of his belongings had mysteriously disappeared, only to return later somewhere on your person.

Was it weird that he missed his belongings disappearing mysteriously, only to return later somewhere on your person?

Reid pondered that as he sat in his last class of the day.  His students were discussing a new concept amongst themselves in the last few minutes, so he definitely had the time- until he didn’t.  Before he could reach any epiphany, Spencer’s phone buzzed, vibrating so hard that it made the man jump.

In an instant, every eye in the room was on Spencer Reid, shocked and delighted that the notoriously technophobic professor’s phone was vibrating away during class.  Spencer felt like he was twelve again.  At least now, as a grown man and professor, he could dismiss the goddamned class.

He pretended he couldn’t feel their eyes on him as they filed out of the room- they weren’t judging him.  Sometimes phones go BZZZZZZZZT in the middle of class, life’s just like that sometimes.  No, his students were all starting with one specific thought on their minds.

“Whatever message that is, it’s 100% from Professor (L/N).”

And I mean.  They weren’t wrong.  A text from you shone out from Spencer’s phone, begging to be read.

(L/N) (The Nuisance): hey nerd, is there a paper on fight club in our office?

Before Spencer could respond, another little text bubble appeared on his screen.

(L/N) (The Nuisance): the book, not the movie

(L/N) (The Nuisance): actually, it’s kind of both?  Nvm, just lmk if you see it

Spencer sighed, picked up his bag, and headed off to your shared office.  He knew the paper you were talking about.  It was the odd man out amongst papers about the criminalization of sex workers and the morals (or lack thereof) behind the war on drugs.  In other words, it wasn’t something you or Reid would have assigned for a college class.  It belonged to one of your GED students- so, when Spencer saw the paper sitting on the desk the previous Friday, he figured he’d leave it.  You’d grab it, and you’d take it home, and that would be the end of it.

Now, Spencer was on a mission to get that paper back to you.  

He was also on a mission to figure out what the fuck you were talking about.

A short ways away, at the community center, your phone buzzed.  

Annoying Motherfucker: I know which paper you’re talking about.  Would you like me to bring it over?

You had just enough time to fire off a, “Yes, please, thank,” before you turned back to the student whose paper you had so rudely lost.

“Okay, the paper is in my office, my coworker is bringing it over now.”

The student in front of you- a tall young man, Adam- remained silent.  He only responded when you said his name.

“Tell ‘em to leave it.”

“What?  Why?”

“Because I think this is a sign.  The universe is telling me I’m not cut out for this.  I’m not-” he cut himself off, turning away from you in shame.

“Hey, hey, look at me.  You are cut out for this.  Your paper was fantastic, I just-”

“You’re telling me my paper was so fantastic that you forgot it at your day job?  That’s bullshit.  Just be honest with me, Doctor.  It wasn’t a good paper.”

“No- Adam, please, it was a fantastic paper.  I left it in my office, yes, but that’s all on me.  I’ll be honest, I might be a professor, but I’m kind of stupid-”

“If you’re kind of stupid, then what hope do I have?  What am I supposed to do?”

You let out a small, sad breath, “You have all the hope in the world.  You just have to keep trying.”

“Is that what you did?  You tried?”

“I tried, yes.  And I’ll be honest, I got lucky.  I got scholarships and awards, but I had to try for them.  You can do the same.  You have potential.  You have promise.  You can-”

“Don’t tell me I can do anything I set my mind to.  My parole officer told me that two days before my last arrest.  It’s bullshit.  It’s all bullshit.  And you don’t know-”

“You’re right,” you sighed, leaning back against your desk, “I don’t know.  I’ll never know your life, what it’s like to be you.  But I know that you can accomplish great things.  You’re smart, Adam.  You have a great mind, you just-”

“My great mind told me to drive through the front door today.”

You froze.  Adam continued.

“My great mind tells me to do awful, awful things.  I spend half of my time fighting off those thoughts.  What good am I, what can I accomplish if I have those bad fucking thoughts all the goddamned time?”

“Hey, hey,” you tried to soothe the man in front of you as he got louder and angrier- not at you, but at himself.

“And it’s not like I can say I know I won’t act on them.  I have acted on them.  That’s why I’m here, with you, in a community center getting my fucking GED.  That’s why I was in prison, that’s why I’ll never be good at anything but being what I am now.”

You were already frozen, but somehow, you managed to freeze again- not because of Adam’s words, but because you could see Spencer’s face in the doorway.

You stood up straighter, instantly on edge.  You weren’t sure how much of the conversation he had heard.  You didn’t know if he would find something incriminating in Adam’s intrusive thoughts.  You put yourself between the two.

“Hi, Reid.  Do you have the paper?”

“I do.  And I have to say, I’ve never seen Fight Club, but this is a fantastic analysis.  Whoever wrote it clearly has a mind for the literary arts- and for the art of film.”

Your eyes widened slightly- of course, you knew that it was a fantastic analysis.  You had complimented Adam on his work minutes before.  You just weren’t sure what Spencer was about to do.

“If I may,” he stepped to your side so he could speak to Adam directly, “I kind of know what it’s like- to have bad thoughts that you can’t control.”

“Are you shitting me?” Adam asked, though his question was quiet.  It was almost as if he was speaking to himself, asking who the fuck this spindly nerd was and why the fuck this spindly nerd was talking to him.

Honestly?  You had similar questions.

Disregarding both of you, Spencer continued.

“The important thing to acknowledge is that there are no such things as good or bad thoughts.  There are only good and bad actions.  I can’t tell you that what you’ve done doesn’t matter.  It does.  But what matters more is what you’re going to do about it- what matters more is trying to be better.  And this?  Getting your diploma?  That matters.  That’s good.”

Spencer handed the paper over to Adam, “Hey, once you get your GED, let me know, okay?  Dr. (L/N) will tell you where you can find me.  I know a few people who could use literary analysis like yours.”

Before Adam could respond, Spencer had turned and started for the door.  Before he left, he spared you a wave.  You were too shocked to wave back.  

Spencer left silence behind.  You and Adam stood in the thick of it for a few moments.  In those moments, a blush began to burn beneath the skin of your cheeks.  Your heart jumped in your chest, playing a beat that was a little too fast.  Surely, this meant nothing.

In those moments, Adam looked down at the paper in his hands.  He read the little comments you had left in green pen.

After a few minutes, he looked up.  He didn’t turn to face you just yet, but that didn’t stop you from seeing the grin lighting up his entire face.

“Shit, man.  You really did like my analysis, huh?”

“I told you.  I loved it.”

“Yeah, well,” Adam’s gaze returned to the pages in his hands.  He flipped through for a second before barking out a laugh, “You spelled ‘artful’ wrong.  You added an extra ‘L.’”

“Did I?” You asked, closing the space between you to peek at your own error, “Shit.  Well, like I said, I’m kinda stupid.  I’m pretty much a fraud.  That guy, though?  The skinny guy with the facts?  He worked to get to where he is.  He tried.  We just have to do the same thing, and hopefully, things will get better.”

“Maybe.  It’s, uh.  I guess I have no choice but to try, huh?”

“I guess not,” you shrugged and smiled at Adam before stepping back towards your desk.

Adam fell silent, looking between you and the empty doorway for a good minute before he spoke again, “So, that was your coworker?”

“Mhmm.  Yep, that’s the guy.”

“Dr. Reid, right?”

You raised an eyebrow, “Yeah, actually.  You’ve heard of him somewhere?”

“From Missy, actually… Fuck, I think I owe her a fifty now.  Shit.”

If you had been drinking something at that moment, you would’ve choked on it.

“Anyway, thanks Doc!  I’ll see ya next week!”

Adam trotted out the door, all grins, not noticing how strangled your, “See you next week!” sounded.

-

Later that night, in the confines of your cozy and un-haunted apartment, you sent a text.  Somewhere else, in his cozy and un-haunted apartment, Spencer’s phone buzzed.

(L/N) (The Nuisance): thank you, Spencer

(L/N) (The Nuisance): seriously.  i owe you one

Annoying Motherfucker: Don’t mention it.  I kind of understand where Adam was coming from, it wasn’t hard for me to say something nice.

You huffed.

(L/N) (The Nuisance): you have a hard time being nice to me!!

(L/N) (The Nuisance): usually

(L/N) (The Nuisance): today was an exception… but srsly, i owe you a favour

Annoying Motherfucker: And I am telling you, you are “srsly” fine.

You smiled down at your phone for a second before you turned off the screen and placed it down beside you.

And almost immediately, that fucker went BZZZZZZZZT.

Annoying Motherfucker: Actually, quick question- what does “nvm” mean?  Also, what does “lmk” mean?

You couldn’t hold back your laugh.

(L/N) (The Nuisance): you seriously don’t know???  you knew what srsly meant, are you telling me you don’t know lmk???

Annoying Motherfucker: …

Annoying Motherfucker: *Thanks.  You said “thank” earlier and it was bothering me.

(L/N) (The Nuisance): omg

Annoying Motherfucker: Hey!  I know that one!

You let out a wheeze.

(L/N) (The Nuisance): you’re fucking adorable

(L/N) (The Nuisance): ok pretty boy, let me explain internet acronyms 

Spencer wouldn’t tell you that he vaguely knew what “nvm” and “lmk” meant.  He’d worked with Penelope Garcia for several years, he had to know.  He just let you talk to him, texting away into the night.

Somewhere else in town, Adam handed Missy fifty dollars- and she promptly handed half of it to Frank.  Frank then split the money with the woman sitting next to him, and so on and so forth until it was well and truly established that everyone in the place 1) knew about the infamous professors and their rivalry, and 2) wanted those professors to stop fighting and fuck already.

♥ Tags: @icarusignite, @usuallyunlikelyfox, @maraudersforlife2005, @fictionalcomforts, @morgthemagpie, @iiheartbowie, @digitalhearts, @corpsebridenightamare, @ghostatrixx, @reiding-writing, @mywellspringoflife, @80katie, @ms-ks-world, @currentfications, @ilse235, @emagen, @foolishwaitersblog, @pleasantwitchgarden if you asked to be tagged and i forgot, pls let me know!! if you would like to be tagged and aren't, also let me know :D

[rileyglas]

The List ~Pt. 7 - Condemnation~ (Sneak Peek)

Out here kicking my feet like Alastor - Got part 7 queued for Friday then MAYBE part 8 next week (if ya'll like it enough) 💜 Need to catch up? Masterlist

The last few days (weeks?) have been a blur. It was a weird switch going from sleeping terribly because you longed to be near him - to sleeping constantly so you didn’t have to feel your body long from him. Anyone who came to your door was just told you weren’t feeling good. “Just caught a stomach bug, don’t come in! I would hate for you to catch it.”

Today you decided it’s time to finally leave your room. Charlie needs help and there are things around the hotel that need to be done before her meeting with Heaven. You aren’t one to let others down just because of your own emotional baggage.

You throw some makeup on to try to brighten your face. Usually, you wouldn’t be bothered but all the crying significantly darkened your eyes. I’d rather not let them see me like this. The less questions the better. Plastering a smile on your face, you head down to the lobby to get the list of ‘to-dos’ from Charlie. Surprisingly she isn’t there when you arrive, so you take a seat next to Angel on the floor. You lean your head against his leg as a silent ‘hello’.

“Hey toots, how ya feeling?” he says without looking up from his phone. “Better, thanks.” You say cheerfully.

“Good! Guess you and Smiles must have shared cooties ‘cause he ain’t been seen or heard from since Lucifer’s visit.” A pang hits your chest, but you try to brush it off. He’s probably just pissed off.

Charlie rushes down the stairs and scoops you into a lung crushing hug, “So so so soooooooo glad you’re feeling better! I didn’t realize how much you did around here! Could you do me a huge favor and go pick up a few things from the city and take them to my dad? He said he can meet you at this address. I have to go pack - Thank you!” Just as quickly as she came down the stairs, she hurries back, leaving you with a short list and an address.

For the first time in weeks, you leave the hotel without Alastor or his shadow close by. It’s not that you’re afraid of going out alone, but you realize you enjoyed his company more than you thought. You glance up at the radio tower as you walk away from the hotel and can make out a dark figure with glowing red eyes staring down from the window. Well at least that’s confirmation he’s still around.

You pick up the few things from a local shop and walk across the city to the address Charlie gave you. This doesn’t look right. The building you walk up to is more of an abandoned warehouse for a drug deal rather than a cozy meetup with the King of Hell. Cautiously you walk through the door which looked like it had been kicked in already. Just as expected, it’s an empty building with piles of trash scattered about. Graffiti and posters plaster the inner walls. You triple check the address on the small paper and it matches.

Sooo now what?

After waiting and pacing for a few minutes, you hear someone call out to you. You turn to see Lucifer standing outside a portal in the middle of the building.

“You didn’t actually think I stayed within the city, did you?” he chuckles as he motions for you to enter into the portal with him. Once inside you look around to see a large open room filled with…ducks? And this guy was trying to give me a hard time?

“Is – is this your office, sir?”

He boots a few ducks out of his path. “Yes, this is where I work on – important – matters. Also, no need for formalities, Lucifer is fine. Those bags for me?”

You almost forgot why you were even standing in the King’s office. All the piles of rubber ducks grabbed your attention and now you wanted to look through them out of pure curiosity. Handing over the bags, you keep scanning around the room. Lucifer notices your curious glances, “Would you – like to see my most recent project?” he asks nervously. You feel your face light up at the offer and he can’t help but mirror your excitement.

He starts to show you all the ducks he’s created, their names, what they can do. His eyes glimmer excitedly every time you display even the slightest interest in one. What feels like a mere fifteen minutes ends up becoming a couple hours. As he shows you the last of his collection, a solemn look crosses his face.

“Thank you for this. I don’t get a lot of visitors and haven’t really been able to share my work since Charlie…grew up. Plus, it’s nice to see you smile, especially after our first encounter.”

Your breath catches at the memory of that night. Not so much the crying in the arms of the devil part - rather the grief you felt shortly after. “Oh – thank you for taking the time to show me. Truthfully, I haven’t had much reason to smile lately so it’s a lovely change.”

His smile drops. There's a long pause as he fights with himself to find the right words, “Did he…Alastor I mean…hurt you that night? You can tell me. I know Charlie is close with him, so you probably don’t feel comfortable -”

“He didn’t hurt me. At least not in the physical sense.” Frowning, you curse at yourself for being too honest. You can’t help but feel at ease in his presence. He was Lucifer, King of Hell and easily the most powerful in all the seven rings. What ulterior motives could he possibly have or need? He has no reason to be anything other than genuine in his worry for you. He made it all too easy to tell him anything.

[mamashenanigans]

408 Leaks Thoughts

Well, holy shit those leaks, amiright?

So, I’ve finally processed some of this. I will say that this is definitely a chapter that needs a strong translation done due to all the dialogue and exposition happening. Therefore, some of this may change once we start to get the fan translation on Friday then the official English one Sunday night.

Here we go…

+I’m going to say this right now: how Horikoshi has handled AFO’s backstory flashbacks is very strange and disjointed. We are presented with a flashback of him crying while getting ready to kill Kudo then one prior to the full backstory where he seems pretty upset(almost like he didn’t know) when Kudo tells him he killed Yoichi. Once we finally get to these leaks, there doesn’t seem to be a clear connection between those flashbacks and when Yoichi died.

It feels like Hori is expecting the readers to be incredibly good at understanding context clues, including imagery, and putting plot strings together without the extra exposition. That’s interesting considering the target audience’s age range.

+So, he did kill Yoichi and all that was left was his hand. This is where the “being able to read/see context clues in a comic” comes into play. AFO didn’t mean to outright kill Yoichi. The look on his face after the fact makes that pretty clear. Also, talking about how he named his brother Yoichi for first gift while this is happening drives that home. Kudo is crying while AFO seems completely numb like his brain shorted out.

+Then BAM, we’re taken to AFO’s office and WE DID IT FAM he kept the hand. All of the thoughts and dialogue for the next few pages needs a good translation because this is prior to him killing Kudo. AFO is confused as to why he can’t feel the Quirk he gave Yoichi and ponders how that can be possible. We then get Kudo and third, who is named Bruce for some reason, discussing how Kudo now has another Quirk within him. Both AFO and Kudo are figuring out at the same time that Yoichi must have passed on his Quirk, but AFO seems to take it as “he still exists”(rough translation). Interesting.

+There’s a page where Yoichi is cut in half by the paneling and it’s assumed that the one on the left is from AFO’s memory and he is talking straight to his brother, while the one on the right is Yoichi talking to Kudo and Bruce. It kinda presents a duality in Yoichi’s thoughts concerning his brother. There’s the rational, “hero” thoughts about how “He only sees people as toys” and the emotional, little brother thoughts of “You’re the only reason I’m alive.”

+Instead of getting a direct connection explaining why AFO had so much emotion being told he killed Yoichi after we saw that he killed him in front of his own eyes, there’s a double spread of AFO’s decades and decades of trying to get his brother back since he knows he still “exists” within OFA. A panel prior to all of this has Yoichi saying how his power could have done a lot of good. This double spread has a lot of small thoughts from AFO throughout. Rough translations talk about how he cried and another is about how he “only/just/simply wants Yoichi”. This is definitely something that needs a good translation.

+From what I can understand through all of this, AFO was either in super denial over accidentally killing Yoichi or he had compartmentalized his feelings over it so thoroughly that his emotions over the matter didn’t come out until Kudo plainly told him that he killed his brother. I think the fact that AFO blames Kudo for “everything” drives home that he can’t accept that he would have killed Yoichi.

+We find out that AFO’s body was in a morgue and Garaki stole it. So, like, what? AFO was brought back from death by Garaki? Is he, like, a Nomu? This is weird.

+AFO goes full Lovecraft on a double spread as his brother senses him using it. It’s his last ditch effort to ram through Bakugo and get to Tomura and Deku. All Might says how he’ll turn into a baby after using it. Bakugo is, unsurprisingly, overconfident.

I will say this: I still don’t think AFO was born evil in the purest sense of it. He was born with his Quirk activated and the intrinsic affect on his very nature and inclinations were already happening. Also, this isn’t entirely AFO narrating. This seems to be a combo between him thinking about his past and Horikoshi being an omniscient narrator.

Also, I really do think AFO and Yoichi are identical twins, especially with how much goes into stealing nutrients and that they can sense each other(classic literary thingy). From how AFO talks about it here(again rough translations), he assumed he had stolen any Quirk his brother may have had in the womb, so Yoichi’s can-hardly-work “giving” Quirk is what is leftover. With Yoichi stating that the power could have done a lot of good, it makes me wonder what could have been if they never split and were one person. The AFO Quirk would make a lot more sense since it seems Yoichi is like the part of the soul that was about “giving”/“good”. Two halves that would have worked incredibly well with such an awesome power if they were one person. However, I believe AFO has a need for them to be together in this way. Because, if he acquires OFA, he’ll have his brother literally a part of himself/inside him. Then Yoichi can really never leave him.

Would have liked a little explanation of why Yoichi was put in “the vault”. I’m assuming it’s because he wouldn’t bend to AFO’s will, but it seems like that was already a thing, sooo? Did he already try to run away? I dunno. I would have liked something more with that just like how I would have liked a more direct connection between AFO killing Yoichi and killing Kudo.

Horikoshi is definitely rushing to finish this manga and move on and how he’s handled these last two chapters is pretty indicative of that. Which is such a shame since it ended up producing a weak way to tell AFO’s story.

Anyway, no break next week, so either we switch back to Tomura and Deku or AFO is somehow stopped by Bakugo because I guess Bakugo is Goku now? I’d love to have more vestige Yoichi interacting or reacting to AFO. Disappointed we haven’t gotten more than the two panels of him sensing his brother’s Spirit Bomb.

[anteroom-of-death]

Teacher's Pet part 8

Synopsis: Truths are revealed, jeopardizing what lies between these two lovers. Why? And how?

A/n: Angst! Angst! And in this chapter, I personally will relinquish a grudge, Sophia I forgive you now, sorta. I swear things may improve! Also, Petronella is a girl's girl and alive. Fuck what the Canon says.

You never expected the tables to turn that quickly. You never wanted to have an affair. You just subconsciously wanted him. Maybe more than subconsciously.

How dumb.

You left his office and went off to your tutoring. Your chest still ringing from beating too hard. Your ears were tingling.

You figured one would have to be deaf, dumb and blind to not notice your obvious puppy dog. (Or how did he put it just now? “A fawn separated from it’s mother too early”…?) Crush you were developing on him.

Was it desperation and he was merely scratching an itch? Something to warm his bones after a dry-spell since his wife died? If not, why not just go see an escort? (You shuddered at an accidental outing.)

You doubted it was a crush, like you held. Do men in their upper fifties (Your best guess at his age…) get crushes? You also doubted that.

And why did it seem like he had twice the amount of pulse in his body. If you didn’t know anatomy, you would swear he had two hearts in his chest.

You shook your head and left silly thoughts and trying to define this experience.

Whatever it was, it began to happen fast. You would meet up between classes in his office for a quick fuck. Or if he saw you on campus he’d guide you to somewhere secluded for a kiss on your cheek and a remark about your latest diatribe in class.

You still met up every Monday for some actual tutoring on his class.

Once he took you out to park at the edge of town for a little coffee date.

He respected your work schedule and always never asked questions.

You were dearly grateful.

The term was coming to an end, and you were in the library. It was late and you covered in highlighter ink and were approaching clinical insanity. You felt a now-familiar set of hands on your shoulders.

“Burning the candle at both ends? I see.”

“Hey.” You broke out of your reverie and statistics-essay informed stupor. It might have been a tad bit louder than you intended.

“Play hooky from work this weekend. I’ve got to go to London for my other job.” First time he ever mentioned a second job. Did the university really pay it’s professors that little? You heard a few, more junior ones kvetching once. But him? He was definitely tenured.

“Another job?” You questioned.

“Yeah, I made a bad choice in the 70’s. It’s followed me around since then. Do come. I’ll do us somewhere special.” So your calculations on his age were wrong. He was maybe just a tad bit older than upper fifties…

Probably lower sixties.

“Sounds fine by me. It’s been slowing up.” You remarked.

He leaned down and kissed your cheek.

“Do ditch the energy drink. They’re ever so bad on human’s guts.”

A weird quirk. He’d always say humans or apes. As if he was above or different. Maybe it was the fact he was an old white guy.

Yeah, that was it. Old white guy brain rot.

“Meet me at that park… Friday, around three PM.” He instructed.

“Okay…”

“I’ll let you go back to your studies. I know how much you value them.” A final kiss and he faded out as quickly as he appeared.

You texted your manager and explained that you weren’t able to do the weekend shift, but definitely Thursday night. If you were to go to London, you’d proceed some mad money to spend on your own if his second job left you hostage for too long to your own devices.

And you canceled on a few regulars.

“Family issues.” Always a surefire way to get out of these things. Vague enough to not garner questions and would gain some sympathy. You hoped some other girl wouldn’t nab them, but you knew how people were. That one girl, Sophia, once stole your biggest tipper who saw you on both Friday nights and Sunday evenings because she’d do oral without a condom.

Damn that stomach flu you had that weekend.

You worked that night, slow but a big tip had materialized. Perfect.

By the time you had gotten home and napped for a few hours, you had a dilemma. Obviously you didn’t want your work knickers and robes mixing in with your real life clothes. Taint the divide you had.

You stared at your open suitcase. It was a little carry-on one. Yet the empty inside could swallow you whole. You threw in the most fancy of your basics in. It seemed the best idea. You pressed your hand to your mouth and let out a nervous scream.

Why was picking out what clothes you’d wear to probably just stay in a hotel all weekend stressful?

And were you entering kept whore territory?

Your situationship was dreadfully unlabeled.

You definitely knew he wasn’t your boyfriend. That word was horribly trite and evoked images of teens and young adults running about to dinner dates and cuddling each other on the bus. Or feeling each other up behind the seats in a cinema.

Not that you had particularly a detailed actual history with long-term or healthy relationships.

That’s life.

Did he even drive? How were you two getting to London? You just sat there on the bench after going to the park. It was nearly three.

You scratched at your eyelid, fighting the urge to tear off your lower lip with your fingernails.

Checking your phone, you didn’t see the big black Range Rover pulling up in front of you. The back passenger side door popped open, startling you a bit. “Hey you, get in. Apparently I’m very late.” You saw him in the back, a few soldiers in it with him. (They looked like soldiers. You decided they were.)

You grabbed your little carry-on suitcase and went in. An anxiety attack was bubbling up. What was his other job? You slid in and clenched your suitcase and purse between your legs.

You were going to London, so you chose a classy, sleek, small black number. You made the right choice. It was positively crowded in here.

There was a cute, disgruntled looking girl with an oversized knit scarf and some hipster glasses on in the front passenger seat.

“Hi! I’m Osgood!” She stretched back and offered you her hand. “You’re his...assistant?” She seemed confused by your general existence, but pleased you were another girl in this car of men. You couldn’t blame her! You took it and shook.

“She’s my companion.” The bastard finally labeled your situationship. Companion, very old timey. He let out of beaming smile, and continued on, “Petronella Osgood, (y/n's full name). (Y/n’s full name), Petronella Osgood. The new lead scientific advisor and assistant to the Head of UNIT!” His hand nearly swiped one of the soldier’s faces. “You’re both clever and don’t think like a normal human. You’ll be friends by Sunday night…”

If you could have balled yourself up and rolled away like a pill bug of you could.

“Do you like Costa? I’m trying to convince these people to stop by on our way home! Usually he just shows up, you know how he is with that TARDIS of his. But the Doctor said this would be best for him to do today…” She battered you with information and words.

You’d discuss this all with him further in private. Right now, you had to play a role.

“Yeah, I could go for…a Cortado.” You choked out. Coffee would help this all be absorbed a lot quicker.

She began fiddling with the vehicle’s GPS.

They all began talking about whatever techno-babble and such. It was over your head. You felt yourself getting heart burn and a migraine.

Petronella asked you something. And like a baby with dribble on it’s shirt, you said sluggishly: “What?”

“Do you think that we should do a frontal advance?”

“Maybe not?” You just started making things up on the fly. Filling it in ad-lib style!

You wanted to kill yourself.

“I mean, if… you go… from the front…all in. They’ll be…able to see you?” You heaved. “If you go from the…sides…and like, guerilla style…whatever is happening will…be a surprise …you remember like, the Germans against Rome or Boudicca, also against Rome…yeah.” You ended. You deserved a little chewing on the inside of your cheek, as a treat.

Soon enough, you pulled up to a Costa, Petronella seemed very eager to order in-shop. And to drag you in.

You collected the soldier’s and Professor Smith (Oh! Yeah, they called him Doctor…you’d demand the truth later.) Orders.

You were so eager to leave the car for a breath of fresh air.

“Hey, mind if I smoke real quick?” You had quit, but there was a lose one in the purses pocket, and the situation called for one. If ever there was a time to start smoking, it’d be now.

“I have asthma! But sure! I can wait.” She went into the weird little room that’s neither inside nor outside that commercial spaces tend to have. She got a phone call.

You could use this as an opportunity to get information about the man who you had been fucking. She’d be more helpful here. She clearly knew him better. Sure you had seen him naked. But she knew him on a more intimate level it seemed.

You finished up your cigarette and crushed it under the heel of your shoe. You got a bottle of perfume out and began dusting it on a heavy layer. You took one big inhale and rolled your neck around. It cracked and you relaxed a bit.

Entering the Costa, she hung up her phone and smiled.

You both ordered. You got yourself one of their fruit biscuits and went to get out your cash.

“Oh no! I got it! All of it.” She whipped out a black card and tapped it to the reader. “Perks of the job.”

You nodded your head. You had heard of UNIT, but couldn’t be arsed to care.

“So, the Doctor.” The name sounded foreign coming out of your mouth. “How long have you worked with him?”

“Oh! Five years now!”

You placed a hand on your throat and rested your jaw on it.

“What’s his deal?”

“Wish I knew, but we should all be glad he exists, he’s the best we got.”

Oh!

You let out a little “mmhmm.”

Before you could get your next question, the drinks and your snack came.

She grabbed her milk babyccino and handed you your Cortado as you left the Costa. You didn’t want to get back in the Range Rover. This all seemed like a very bad idea. You should have never agreed to this.

But here you were, so you had to deal with it.

You got back in the back, the solider driving said they’d have to speed along, no stops.

You shrunk in the seat. You felt his one hand stroke your upper arm. He was trying to comfort you. You wish you could recoil, but you had grown too addicted to his touch. Against all instinct, you leaned into him and sipped your coffee. Just sat an observed, chiming in when people would outright ask you for your input. More sipping your coffee and staring glumly out the front windshield. You felt like a caged beast.

Soon enough you were in London and you could get out of the car. Sadly, it pulled into an underground military-style bunker.

You were very proud of yourself for keeping your cool and now having a major breakdown in there.

You entered a lift, still carrying your suitcase.

It went all the way to the top.

Some woman in a very impressive suit and a silk scarf met you all there.

More introductions.

The Doctor – Professor Smith- whatever his real title or honorific was, took your suitcase and told someone to take it to a place. You didn’t retain or hear. You were positively swimming. You hated how good this artificial, florescent lighting made the hollows of his face looked. He was a bit more formal in his dress than he ever was at the university. In this moment you hated how you were reacting to him. Obviously he had to confess things to you.

Obviously, there was a bit of a double standard, but this outweighed your little evasions and white lies.

There was a meeting and grand plans were drawn. Choices were made.

And you had to make choices for yourself.

It was close to midnight when you finally got out of the meeting. Tomorrow apparently they’d denote a device, after it was programmed and set up during the night. Apparently that’d save the Earth.

He was swanning along like he owned the place. Everyone was reverent. His word was law and his advice was the loudest.

Maybe you shouldn’t have smoked that cigarette beforehand. Maybe you needed several shots of vodka. Maybe you just were way out of your depth.

Soon enough you had an escort of two soldiers for him and you to a suite with the bare essentials of comfort. Your stupid suitcase was there. Like a fancy barracks.

The door locked and you were alone with him.

“It’s time I tell you some truths.” He said, sitting in a chair at the desk.

You threw your hands up, “You fucking think so?” It came out as a screech. You clapped your hand to your mouth.

“What the fuck?” You clapped your hands together as you leaned over and down to face him. “What the fuck was all that?” You crouched into a squat.

“Let me tell you.” His tone was silencing. Like you were in the wrong for this reaction.

“Fine!”

“Firstly, this changes nothing about the past months. But I am an alien from a planet far away and long since gone. I am over two-thousand years old. My name, my title, is the Doctor. Well the closest translation to any Earthling's language.”

You leaned back, gesturing with your hands in the “okay” position.

“I may be a little fucking slow, I may have a few learning disabilities, but I’m not fucking stupid. Are you…aware…of how incredibly far-fetched that sounds?” Your body swaying with the position of your hands. The hands quickly moved to press into the center of your forehead.

He undid a few buttons on his shirt.

You groaned.

He grabbed at your hands and you tried to escape. He flattened the palm of one and pressed it against his chest. You felt two hearts pumping. Your little observation after the first time you hooked up on how it seemed like he had two pulses wasn’t so stupid suddenly...

“Two hearts, fawn.” He said, using his pet name for you. “I’m alien.”

Your lower lip quivered.

No wonder he felt different than any other man you’d fucked previously. His body was different. He was.

Hot tears burned at the corners of your eyes, starting to splash out. You pulled yourself free and slunk onto the closest wall.

Figures that your first big infatuation that actually seemed to value your life was a fucking ancient alien. You felt like a total freak, were you really that screwed up that the only way you’d get anything resembling a healthy relationship was with an alien!

Your head found its way between your thighs.

“Nothing changes.” He repeated.

“How many others have you done this to?” You spat out. Pure venom.

“Rarely like you.”

“Oh, so I’m just the latest and greatest girl you’ve lured into submission! How kind! I was chosen! I feel special!” You raged out. Giving a little sarcastic bow from your sat position.

He joined you against the wall. You skittered yourself away from him.

“You’re special. Trust me. I had stopped. You met me in a different way. No danger, no trauma-bonding. No Nothing. If not for duties I neglected here for too long, I would have keep you safe. Continued to be your Professor John Smith. Existed…but I couldn’t bear not seeing you for as long as this will take here. Separate. Not my traveling assistant, not anything. Just my little fawn and our perfect microcosm of the universe.” He slid forward and looked you dead in the eye.

He cocked his head, “Remember when I was talking about what the universe owed us? I figured this was my long-awaited, pleaded for reward. To have you, for as long as this little life of yours could allow this fling to last.”

He was very good with words and you could feel them echoing pure and true in your head. Something made you relax and let your guard down.

You hoped it wasn’t some alien superpower he had.

You began openly weeping. Loud, a total cacophony. You started choking on your tears and having a hard time breathing.

He wiped the tears.

You let our a hiccup. He started rubbing small circles on the middle of your back.

“I planned on seeing a West End play with you, a proper date, like a human man would take a human woman to. If you don’t want to, I can order a car and you can go back to Bristol.” He offered.

You started crying even harder.

“Can I shower first? Before I can make a choice. On anything. Even you...” You admitted, needing to revise on your end if you even wanted to be with him in any capacity anymore.

“Understandable, (y/n).” The Doctor helped you up, and gave you your suitcase. You found your toiletries bag and shuffled in. You swore you heard him mutter, “Well, don’t overthink.” But you left that be. You had enough to think about, just add that to the list.

After getting undressed, you turned the water on the hottest it could go.

You began to wash away the day…

So much to think about…so little time to do so.