#I drank 3 over the course of one weekend
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Recent meal-adjacent items (fucked up sleep schedule = a lot of snacks): radish and tomato bread and butter, cappuccino ala my friend’s uncle Steve, Montreal style bagel with lox (good!!)
#there’s at least some veggies in there#lol#the cappuccino was so fucking good#I drank 3 over the course of one weekend#flintandpyrite recipe blog
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WHITE | jjk
pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x wine!oc
genre: smut
word count: 8.1k
summary: craving white wine, your boyfriend would do anything for you—even let you dom him.
pinterest board: wine
warnings: alcohol consumption, wine!oc is dominant and she's enjoying it, plushie used in a sexual intercourse, dd/lg, jk is desperate and so horny, hand job, oral sex (m. + f. receiving), fingering, squirting, raw sex, the importance of sex being imperfect, use of sex toys — yes, plural, dirty talk, spanking, face riding
note: i'm genuinely sorry for this—SDFKJDSLFJDSLFJS. this is the last wine drabble <3 i loved writing about them again, ugh i missed my babies so much. would you, guys, also like me to write two drabbles about the steam series? i feel like it would only be fair like this. vote in the poll below, pwease. <3 hope you like this last installment.
Your boyfriend has an immense, insane amount of energy.
You have partly yourself to blame. It’s Saturday night, summer at full blast and you felt it thrumming so deeply and intensely within your veins that you found yourself craving your most favored mood-lifter in the world.
White wine.
You’ve almost spent every weekend drinking myriads of different alcoholic beverages, but the white nectar is something you’ve quite neglected. Well, not so much as neglected, but forgotten about entirely. The last time you drank it, you and Jungkook were on far, far different terms. Fuck buddies with a degradation kink, skipping a party because you got horny again. You wonder if things would’ve turned out the same way if you hadn’t decided to spice up your getting ready time with that drink. Would it change the course of events that led him to confess his feelings for you? Would you have allowed yourself to fall for him, had he not made you drunk with his allure?
You only had to mention your thirst and Jungkook was quick to get up to his feet, take his keys, phone and wallet and he was out the door before you could say anything else. Your fond giggles vibrated across the room—so much that Bam lifted his head and jumped on your lap and so you spent the remaining time alone cuddling with the canine friend, catching up in your lovey-dovey dog language, kissing him all over until you dolled him up with red lipstick marks.
He looked so good. Was happy about it, too, because when his Daddy came back, he was similarly quick to show him.
And Jungkook, he laughed so hard that he clutched his own stomach, doubled over, his shoulders shaking. Then, he sat next to you on the couch, pulled you in for a hug as if he hadn’t seen you in years and very solemnly told you that it was his turn now.
The words that tumbled out of you were so swift, without any kind of embrace of thought beforehand, that you didn’t have the time to consider the consequences they would come with until they dazzled you. Through and through, ridding you of your sense of sight.
“You’ll get your kisses only if you show me that you bought the wine.”
Jungkook’s eyes grew in size, darkened in nightly fashion. Twinkles flickering, dimly. The atmosphere, the dynamic and energy shifted, folding into something you haven’t yet experienced in such depth, calming your eyes until they blended back into normalcy. And you wouldn’t perceive it for what it truly was, had Jungkook not wordlessly left to fetch his bag from the convenience store, along with a corkscrew and two glasses, and had he not crouched in front of you.
The view left you stunned. The blatantly obvious fact, too.
The fact that, somehow, you were in control.
And it was so different from the last time due to a simple reason. Jungkook wasn’t the one who initiated it. Didn’t tell you to be in charge. Didn’t give you his control in words, in commands. No, it happened arbitrarily, on its own and Jungkook submitted to it. Submitted to you. Put down his control once he lowered his form between your knees, giving it to you this way, silently.
A thing of utter beauty, filling you up with vibrancy, enthusiasm and… passion.
He showed you his haul, unloading it onto your lap. Sparkling white wine in a golden bottle, dog treats, cheese and crackers and… Miffy.
Miffy in a way you haven’t seen her before.
Made into a sleeping position. Black eyes shut, round butt risen in the air, even rounder tail perked, body soft and drowsy. Bigger than the bunny resting alone on his bed in the other room.
You purred, squeezing her hard before you hugged her to your chest, careful not to smear your makeup on her when you pushed her up to your neck. Looked at your quite small boyfriend with a ravening gaze as you said, “You got bunny a sister, how cute. Well done.”
Your praise coaxed a noise out of Jungkook that you never heard before, one that stirred the eternally slumbering beast in you that had not once seen the night enveloping you. A concoction, most delicious and arousing, of a whimper and a hum. It settled within your core, teasing you there, making you want more. You told him, or the beast more like, to open the wine and he obeyed, right away.
You watched him do it. Watched the flexing of his muscles, tense beneath the fabric of his tiger-print shirt. Watched him not spill a drop and then pour you a glass until it almost overflowed. He handed it to you, expecting you to take it from him, but you caught him off guard.
“Taste it for me first.”
His mouth fell agape. Remained parted when he immediately brought the glass to his lips and took a large sip. Your eyes followed the bobble of his throat as he swallowed and you gave him a big smile for it. A praise, too.
“Good. Let me have a sip now, my hands are full.”
In typical fashion, he drew close to you until your knees squeezed him in, legs wrapping around his torso. One hand wrapped around your hip, the other tipped the glass to your mouth and you looked at him and did not stop until you took a big gulp.
“More.”
He tipped it again. “Tastes good?”
You nodded, liking the sweetness and the fizziness, but this time you didn’t swallow the nectar. Jungkook set the glass down, along with his haul, averting his gaze momentarily and you cupped his chin, bringing it back to you. Leaned in and, in a heated kiss, you spewed the wine out into his mouth. He gasped, pulling away, flushed cheeks a tiny bit full, lips pursed, one mouth end wet with a trickle flowing down. It would’ve been an adorable sight, had his eyes not narrowed, darkened further more and pierced you with such intensity that your clit gained a drum.
Your finger felt for the top button of his shirt. “Swallow. Don’t be messy.” He did. Swore. Breathed hard. You undid the button, lifting your digit to wipe his chin clean, smearing it on his bottom lip until he opened for you. You plunged in. Let out a low sound of delight once he wrapped his puffy lips around it.
And now here you are staring at each other, finger in mouth. His newly secured energy pulsating in him, seconds away from bursting, brutally. You can see it, vividly, and you prepare yourself for it—blaming partly yourself and, feignedly, the palatability of the white nectar for being the cause behind it. He’s waiting for the next move, countenance terribly solemn and stiff. His hands must be oh so itching to take over, but he sticks to the unspoken, patient and good.
Taking out your finger gently, you undo the rest of his buttons, aware of the shudders zapping his body the more you reveal his smooth skin. Jungkook straightens for you, palms on your thighs, breathing heavily, a sound that brings out the strangest of oxymorons in you—simultaneous nervousness and confidence. Nervousness that you call the shots; confidence that the paintwork of his arousal is signed with your name.
And it’s the latter that the beast plucks out, like a twig of flower off a tree.
You push Jungkook back and slide into his lap, biting your lip at the contact of his hardness under the flimsy material of your ivory pajama shorts. His hands clasp around your small hips, but you pry them away, deeming that if you are in control, then it’s you who decides when he gets to touch you. His brows rise when you pin them down and at last he beams up at you, eyes lidded and drunk, despite the fact he merely had two sips of alcohol. Bunny’s sister rests askew in your joined laps, her head pointed towards your mound and it forces a certain idea into your muddy brain.
One that Jungkook fleetingly interrupts.
“You’re gonna take control of me?”
Ooft, making it official. You hum your agreement, repositioning the plushie. Place her directly against his imprint and, pushing the soaked center of your shorts to the side, you sit down on her soft face. Begin to rock slowly. Jungkook’s breath hitches in his throat, fists clench on either side of him as well as his jaw, chin upturned. He’s holding himself back with all of his might and it is only now that you feel your wetness dripping onto the fur, now when the vibrancy of the faint pleasure spreads across your every nerve ending, now when you know that he’s struggling to keep his composure. There’s something so incredibly satisfying about it that you rock your hips harder, whimpering, hands gripping his shoulders.
“Can you handle it?” you murmur, already knowing that he won’t be able to the moment you decide to take things further, but you give him a slither of a chance to prove you wrong, rooting for him from within with a sly smile on your face.
Jungkook pokes his tongue in his cheek, sighing, eyes descending to your neck and to your perky, pebbled breasts under your low cut top. “I’ll handle anything you come up with as long as I get your kisses.”
His sweet response gratifies you so much that you arch your back, lowering your hands down to his chest, the thrum on your clit becoming unbearable, the soft friction of the plushie doing very little to alleviate it. You whine, picking up your pace. “Even—even if you don’t get to touch me?”
Jungkook hesitates, biting his lower lip. A certain sadness coasts his now big eyes that makes you coo endearingly and slow down, feel so bad for him. “Anything for you.”
You can’t halt the groan from escaping, the groan that roots from the passion and the love you carry for him, from the principle of his submission. You’ll make it up to him. Play with him just for a little while and you’ll give him his rightful upper hand right back to him, all because he was so quick to be your little toy. Without a thought, nor a word spared. Without a struggle. He deserves it. Has come a long way.
“You’re just my little slut, aren’t you?” You grab a hold of his throat, tip his chin up, feel his vein throbbing. “My pretty little slut. Hard for me, hm? Will do anything for me?”
Widening his eyes, mouth parted, he moans, sucking in a breath, chest lifting rapidly. Hand automatically lifting to palm himself, just in time to realize that he can’t because the plushie and your lap is in the way. “Yes, I’m your little slut and I need you so bad. Need your kisses.”
You hum, terribly, terribly satisfied. Horny. A fire, personified. Fire and energy—a wonderful mixture about to meet. “Where, baby?”
His breath shakes, his being radiated by you, glistening in sweat. “Everywhere, please.”
You drift your hands down his chest. Think he earned them now by asking so nicely. You sit back on his thighs, plushie in hand, ready to chuck her away, but then another idea comes up.
Grabbing her by the back of her neck, you use her to kiss him. On his jaw, on his neck, on his left peck, nipple and the mole underneath, making kissing sounds. Jungkook shudders at the contact upon his most sensitive spots and you can see his disliking for it before he voices it out. You revel in it, his desperation becoming your obsession.
“No, not from her. Please, from you.”
But in spite of that, your craving to give him everything is stronger.
You toss her on the couch, hands instantly clasping around his neck. You kiss him, wetly, on his Adam’s apple and he whimpers, urging you to continue. The sides of his throat, collarbones, shoulders—you mark him everywhere with your red lipstick, making a pathway down his sternum before you go sideways. Create a large shape of a heart on the left side of his peck, coloring it in with bruises, with kisses so hard that his manhood twitches in his pants. You’re so focused on adorning him, on the citrusy taste of his skin, that you don’t even sense your hands as they rid him of his shirt, unbuckle his belt and undo his button, dragging down his zipper.
You rise to your feet, out of breath, puffy mouth, lipstick slightly smeared, head spinning. “Take off your pants and get on the couch.”
The golden buckle of his belt catches your eye as he stands up. You wrap your hand around it and tug it out of his belt hoops harshly. There’s a hint of timidness in the vast sea of his arousal once he looks at you, aware of what you’re planning with the leather band. With a giggle, you merely wink at him and Jungkook blushes, dropping his gaze in tandem with his pants.
“Boxers, too?”
You edge around his side and envelop your arms around his middle, mouth pressing against his spine. A big, red mark of your lips amidst the broadness of his back. Utterly, utterly beautiful. “Smart boy, yes—off with them, now.”
Jungkook laughs, softly, shyly. You wish you could see his blush deepen as the clenching of his abdomen divulges to you how much he liked that praise. You also wish you could feel the fluttering of the butterflies inside, if there are any at all. You’re getting to know him in such a new way that you otherwise would have never had the opportunity to do so. The shudders, the tension under his skin, the lively energy that is yearning to burst and rain upon you—it is all so awfully exhilarating, even more so the fact that you hold it all in your tender grasp.
And he lets you. In the name of love.
He drops his undergarment and he goes to sit down like you told him to, but you squeeze him harder against yourself. No, he’s not going anywhere. The heat, his soft skin, his gentleness and shyness—you want it all close to you, close enough to seep into your pores so it can make bed there and live there perpetually. So snug, so homely—yes, that’s precisely what it is. Home.
You skim your hands down the defined muscles of his stomach, feeling them move under your fingers. Take his wrists behind his back and keep them there, unrestrained yet, his belt curled on the coffee table. You bring your hands back to his stomach, lowering them down—
“Can you reach me?” Jungkook asks, head turned to the side. You’re so used to degradation in your sex life that at first you thought he was mocking you, but on the contrary—he’s asking in all genuinity. With his forearms pressed to his sides, he’s bigger than he usually is and he wondered if your small form can stretch enough to touch him.
How sweet.
“Such a good, thoughtful boy.” You grab his length. Had to do it from the side a little bit, but you don’t mind. At least you get to see him. See the way he twists his features at the contact, see his energy and his muscles straining. “I guess I can, huh?”
You tug at his length rapidly a few times. His body shudders again, almost doubles over before he straightens his spine, whimpers trickling out of his mouth and rooting in your heat, soaking your pajamas. And when his sounds rise in volume, you swiftly let go of him. Fetch the belt and fasten it around his wrists, leading him to take a seat on the couch.
Manspreading, cock hard, red and long, almost kissing his belly button, hands behind his back, muscles big and flexed, face features darkened by his arousal, ravagedly fixed on you—fuck, you could come from the view.
You sink to your knees in front of him. Itch so fucking hard to take him in your mouth and make that energy paint you in white, but watching him like this—you plan something else entirely. Pressing one kiss on his V-line, you glide your lips upon the tip of his length, making him tremble in desperation. It takes all of your strength not to give it to him, but you know he will be overjoyed with the little thought that’s swarming in your brain.
“Where’s your fleshlight, baby?”
Jungkook loosens a hard, flabbergasted breath and his pretty, pretty cock twitches against your mouth.
You knew it.
You bought the toy together yesterday. It’s still unopened in a box somewhere in his bedroom; you don’t know where he hid it. He may have not wanted to spend money on it, but when you witnessed the way his eyes glowed, you convinced him to get it. Begged him. Told him you wouldn’t leave the sex shop until he bought it and he gave in, timidly. Much to your delight.
“In the closet,” Jungkook croaks out, clearing his throat and you kiss his other V-line as a reward, kitten licking his tip for a millisecond as you rise to your feet. He whimpers, again in desperation.
“You can’t get it, can you?” you taunt, lovingly, fingers hooking under your shorts and dragging them down your hips, your top following over your head. His eyes follow your every movement, fixing on your feminine parts, muscles bulging, yearning to touch you. You grow wetter, being looked at, being desired like that. “You’re just a helpless baby.”
He moans your name, signaling to you that there’s only so much he can take and you understand. You’re quick as you hurry to his bedroom, quick to find it, quick to pull the toy out of the box and quick to return to him.
There’s a trickle of his male arousal gliding down his length when you stand between his legs and your own desperation to pleasure him heightens in you—so much that you’re equally quick to unfold your plan.
You grab his chin and tip it up, harshly. Kiss him so nastily that he moans into your mouth and then… then you stare him dead in his eye. “I’m gonna put the fleshlight under bunny’s sister and you’re gonna show her how hard Daddy fucks his girls, yeah?” He’s left speechless, breathing rapidly, coated in sweat. Eyes narrowed, still darkened but now glowing with that familiar light that you saw yesterday, black irises piercing you through and through. “You should give her a name, though. Have something to moan when you fill her up, hm?”
It’s evident, the way his brain malfunctions, but he surprises you.
“Vinny.”
Vinny and Bunny, how adorable.
You coo, pecking him. “Vinny it is. Such a pretty name. I’m gonna make you nice and wet for her. Would you like that?”
“Please.”
You descend to your knees and you don’t hesitate to immediately take him into your mouth as far as you can. You gag around him, but you relax your throat, bobbing your head only slightly, testing yourself, wanting to stretch your throat out for him. Jungkook groans, squeaks little mewls as he doubles over once more, and the sound is so obscenely loud that your clit throbs harder in response and you would touch yourself if your craving to pleasure him wasn’t stronger.
You pull out until you can stack both of your hands on his length and while your tongue plays with his tip, you twist your wrists. Only briefly, just to make him feel a little better before you lick him all over—just to stay true to your words. And when it’s your name that comes out of his mouth once you slobber all over him, you withdraw altogether.
“Please… please,” Jungkook whimpers, trembling and you feel terribly bad for him. So much that you pucker your lips at him and kiss his cheek endearingly as soon as you get on your feet again, purposefully ignorant to the way your cunt likes his helplessness.
“I got something better for you, Daddy, don’t worry,” you reassure him, slipping into the dynamic your familiarity using the title. You grab Vinny and the fleshlight, placing her on top of the toy, on the armrest of the couch—her butt and her pussy facing him.
And when you glance at him to see his reaction to your artwork, you’re stunned by the look he gives you. Mad, mad stare. Awfully dark and menacing. It would disquiet you if didn’t know that he loved you. There’s no way you could take the liberty in toying with him like this, had you not become exclusive—had he not created a realm of safety for you to do that in.
“I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you for this,” Jungkook threatens and the sliver of normalcy in the middle of the role-play that he caught onto makes you giddy and feel so fucking alive. The threat, too. You quiver in anticipation and excitement, grinning from ear to ear. “You’re not walking after this.”
You laugh, softly, thrilled. “I sure hope so,” you say, grabbing a hold of his arm to lift him up. “I’m dripping for you.”
Jungkook hisses. Won’t budge. Remains seated, looking up at you. Doesn’t reciprocate your smile. Scowls, instead. “Can I taste you?”
You shake your head ‘no’, even if it emotionally pains you. “Not right now.”
He sighs and you take his arm again. This time he obeys—lets you lead him into the position that you want. On his knees, still on the couch, perfectly at level with Vinny’s pussy patiently waiting for him. Jungkook looks at her for a long time, studying the silicone shape of her clit and lips. You’re certain that if his hands were free, his thumb would’ve traced her soft vulva.
“Do you like her pussy?” you ask, your grin only widening, eyes blazing, emitting hot sparkles of light. You’re perhaps more excited and enthusiastic about this than he is.
Jungkook looks at her for a split second more before he flicks his intense gaze to yours. “Yours is prettier.” Your breath hitches in your throat and your heart follows its footsteps, skipping a beat, springing up and grazing your vocal cords. You can’t get a word out—you’re stupefied, in love, so impassioned that you resemble him with all that fire in you, taking after his energy buzzing in him. You sense the same movement in you, hotter, more vigorous. Your mouth parts and, cheeks awash with color, you’re on the verge of bursting. “Let me touch your little pussy, please.”
You bite your lip, pause a tiny bit just to regain your composure and you sigh, eventually, gripping his face in your hand, squishing his cheeks. “I said,” you start, emphasizing your warning just to see his flush deepen like you wanted. “Not right now. Can’t you listen?”
For a fleeting moment, there’s a heavy silence filled with his hard breaths.
Then, Jungkook glares at you.
“I’m gonna destroy you.”
You chuckle, girlishly—even though his threat yet again thrums within your skin, even though your body craves to submit to him, throw the playtime away, forget about it, entirely. “Talk all you want. See where it gets you.” With your other hand, you take his length and line it up at Vinny’s entrance. “Fuck her.”
Now—now he finally grins, a puckish smile that unnerves you a little bit, as if an idea crawled up into that smart brain of his.
And he proves you right.
“I’m gonna show her how I’m gonna fuck you,” he mutters, drawing closer to Vinny, to the arm rest. “Where’s the lube? Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.”
A trickle of cold sweat trickles down your spine and it’s you who’s left speechless now. You were so quick to return to him that you did forget the lube, mind void of rationality, filled with him that you forgot such an essential thing. You swear under your breath, feeling stupid.
“Go get it before I rip this fucking belt apart and use it on you.”
Wordlessly, embarrassed with your head down, you go back to his room and fish for his lube in his bedside drawer, noticing that it’s where he keeps the vibrator for you. You haven’t used it in so long in your playtime and you reminisce, briefly, on the last time he made you come with it. On this very bed, on his lap with bunny on yours as he rearranged your guts with the toy on your clit—teasing you by lifting it and placing it between the plushie’s legs, acting for her and screwing up his features in pleasure.
Your heart thuds at the memory, your thighs sodden with your essence, and a certain expectation creeps within its chambers. The expectation that the toy will make a comeback tonight. That is, if you even deserve it.
You cringe at your wetness while your feet pad back to the living room. Jungkook stares you down, guilt written all over his face for being mean and it mollifies your negative feelings, dispersing them away from you. It’s enough for you—you don’t really want to talk about how you pitifully failed, nor do you want to hear a mention of it, but Jungkook seemingly does.
Up close, his eyes are awfully soft as if he made a mistake with his last words. You don’t think he did—he’s always been the leader in your playtime, so you deem he only did the right thing. Besides, you’ve worked him up to the point of anger, so from your standpoint, he didn’t do anything wrong. You did.
“Come here,” he says, gently, leaning in and angling his head. “Put your arms around me.” You do as he says, needing to, needing to be led for a little while before you can resume. You sink your fingers into his hair as you rest your forearms around his shoulders, even though all you want to do is rid him of his restraint and let him fuck it out of you. He kisses you with such tenderness that you whimper in sensitivity and amorousness, taking it one step further and moving your mouth against his, slipping your tongue inside. It’s a brief kiss, no matter its intensity, for he still has something to say. “You’re doing so well tonight. I never thought I’d ever get this hard from you being the boss of me. I’m sorry for snapping, you hear me?” he whispers against your lips, each movement causing his pillows to touch yours in faint, faint kisses that make your mind spin and your desire for him to lengthen across your whole body, deepening. You nod for him, hearing his words, needing them, too—glad for the honesty, for the check in, for the sliver of normalcy. “I’m just so horny and I need you. I didn’t mean it, okay? Daddy didn’t mean to talk to you like this. He loves you and you made him so needy that he’s frustrated, but it’s okay. He can handle it. Do you love your Daddy back, hm?”
You moan at the continuation of his words, running your fingers through his hair, inching closer to him until your chest softly collides with his. And his reassurement, the warm feeling of his skin, the potency of his love—it all erases your mistake, leaving only your sensual craving for him. You nod, again, like a little girl given a talking-to from her father, absorbing the lesson. “I love you.”
Jungkook hums, pleased, pecking you. “Good. I’m gonna do what you want now, baby. Gonna make you proud, listen to every word like a good Daddy, hm? You can do anything you want to me. You’d like that? You wanna keep going?”
You smile at him, sweetly, and he kisses your expression of contentment. It feels so good like this and you feel woozy, too. Sluggish, ready to be taken, on your way to cloud nine. You nod your head for the last time and squirt the lube all over him and Vinny’s intimate parts, your desire to take over him blending into your fuzzy feelings.
With your help, he slides inside her, both pairs of eyes watching the slick intrusion, then meeting at once—your simultaneous groans of delight merging, fading into one another, creating one beautiful, heavenly sound, unheard by all angels and celestial beings. You hold the fleshlight steady as he bottoms out, his mouth parted, brows furrowed, eyes so heavy-lidded as he devours your gaze, your face, the pleasure he feels so overwhelming that you almost think he can’t take it. The flexing of his abdominal muscles, the roll of his hips that takes all of his strength while his arms remain restrained behind his back, his neck shiny with a layer of sweat—fuck, the sight is to die for and you melt into something boneless, jelly and gooey; becoming just a hole for him.
You can’t wait for him to fuck you. Perhaps it’s you, after all, who can’t take it.
Jungkook begins to pound her, his mound hitting her clit with every hard motion and it strikes your awe. Your breathing quickens, the drum in your own bundle of nerves unwaveringly unbearable and what’s worse, he keeps fucking looking at you, perhaps imagining it’s your pussy that he’s ruining and your legs tremble, threatening to give out—
“Rub your pussy on the other end, please,” he begs, vocal cords so awfully strained, and this time you decide to gratify him.
The first moan that your mouth emits makes him fuck the toy harder—so much that it slips out of your grasp. You prop your knee on the armrest, flattening Vinny’s face on the edge of the toy, so you can gain the friction you so desperately need and it works. Your cunt soaks her sleepy countenance and you flick your eyes to it, watching the fur get darker with each rock of your hips.
“Look at me,” he grunts—and you do. A hint of softness in the dark sea of his eyes, boisterous waves of arousal sloshing to and fro. “Use her like I am. Hard—” He shows you how by a stroke that reverberates through your body, stimulating your clit by bumping into it. “And then fast.” Quick thrusts that waggle with your form, your curls bouncing against your spine.
And so you match his rhythm. It stimulates you far more than the pace you had going for yourself, your orgasm enclosing around you, inching closer and closer with each graze of your clit against the now more firm plush fur. Your brows knit, the coil in your stomach tightening to the point that it’s you who ultimately takes over and Jungkook follows, matching your rhythm, fucking Vinny faster—the silicone squeaking with each deep plunge of his length into her hole that causes your tits to slap against each other. But Jungkook doesn’t look at them. No, his eyes are set on you and you know that he knows that you’re about to come.
Jungkook begins to pant, marked chest flushing, adorning him most finely. The knowledge is getting him there, too. “You close, baby?”
You moan, sucking in a breath. “So close, I’m gonna come.”
He moans with you, approving of it. “Come, then, I wanna watch you. Make her nice and wet for me, hm?” You rock your hips faster—closer and closer, gripping Vinny with all your might. “I wanna touch you so bad, princess. Kiss you everywhere. Lick that little clit. Fuck you until all that you know is my fucking name. Please—”
You come so hard that it takes both you and Jungkook by surprise, your body violently shuddering and colliding into his. He groans, deeply, following in suit, your orgasm triggering his and he sloppily fucks the toy while he watches you ride out your high, bliss enveloping you in angelic glow.
“Yes, princess, just like that, fuck. You’re so pretty. My pretty little girl, coming so hard. Yes, fuck.” He’s losing himself, moaning your name over and over until there’s nothing left to give to Vinny, until he’s so spent that he sits back on his feet, eyes closing and opening, tongue licking his dry lips. He moans your name again, in post-high. “Please, get the belt—”
You don’t hesitate. With blurry vision and sex hormones swirling in your brain, numb by your intense orgasm, you edge around him and rid him of his restraint, flinging it somewhere away from the both of you, hating it, not wanting to see it again.
You and Jungkook exchange a look full of soft smiles and love, with his joy like a cherry on top of that. He twists his wrists, standing up to his feet, the size difference and the sudden change in energy causing him to grow solemn. No smiles, though the love remains. You feel it thumping in the atmosphere you’re surrounded by as he completely overpowers you, naturally. And you welcome it, needing it—needing to be dominated and fucked until you’re brainless.
“I love watching you come,” Jungkook murmurs, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and cradling the side of your face. “It’s all I want to see for the rest of my life. Every morning when I wake up and every night before I go to sleep. It’s everything to me.”
It moves through you, his words, almost painfully with their vigor and passion, passing down your body until they settle in your core. You drip for him. Still feel so terribly lightheaded and high. “Just that, huh?”
“And your snores.”
You punch his arm. Jungkook laughs and gathers your hair, pulling it away from your face, stroking it down your back. A grin of your own curls your mouth. You don’t snore, at all. And you tell him.
“You do when you’re tired.” You gasp, lifting your hand again but he catches it in time, intertwining your fingers with his. “You did such a good job today. You learn well from me. Sounded just like me. Made me proud.” He strokes your hair again and you lean into his touch, even though you don’t believe him. You could’ve done a lot better and it could’ve ended just like you planned—fucking him with that fleshlight. You guess you can save that for another time.
You shake your head. “I messed up.”
“But you didn’t.” He angles his head, inching closer so the gravity of his words can pierce your mind, but it does no such thing. You still have one of your own. Solid as a rock.
“No, I shouldn’t have forgotten the lube. It ruined everything.”
Jungkook sighs, drawing back, fondling the back of your hand before he lets go of it and clutches the nape of your neck. “Sex isn’t meant to be perfect. You didn’t ruin anything, why do you think that?” He looks at you for a long time, but you can’t take it—you drop your gaze, still feeling terrible. He calls you by your name, firmly. “Who made you think sex is meant to be perfect, huh? Bring them to me.”
You laugh, softly, at the ridiculousness of his question. It’s him who owns your virginity—you’ve never been with anyone else before him. It’s your own expectations that make you think that. “Right here.” You point to your brain.
Jungkook kisses your forehead. Lingers there, giving you a million tiny pecks, as if erasing everything from there that he doesn’t like. It touches you, deeply, and you can’t stop yourself from submitting to it as it melts your brain. Your mouth rounds in a pout, your bottom lip jutting out and when he gazes down upon you and sees it, he coos at you, kissing it. “I made a mistake, too, didn’t I?” You remain silent—still think he didn’t do anything wrong. “But it was still amazing and we came together, didn’t we?”
He’s right; you’ll give him that. “You really liked it?”
He pecks you, vehemently, on the lips and then points to the fleshlight behind him in all its glory, dripping with cum. So much fucking cum that it makes a puddle on the hardwood floor. “Do you think I would’ve cummed this much if I didn’t? Tell me, baby.”
You swear, unable to take your eyes off of the quantity of his male essence. It draws you in, magnetically, and you obey its call, lifting the fleshlight with your hands, turning around so Jungkook sees and darting out your tongue—
“Don’t.”
You swipe the muscle across the silicone hole, collecting his ivory arousal. Most of it trickles down your neck and bare chest and it’s Jungkook now who swears, loudly. Grabs you by your waist and, flinging the toy away, he kisses you. You didn’t even have the time to swallow. He’s tasting himself on your tongue and it causes you to moan into his mouth. He taps the back of your thighs and you jump, wrapping your legs around his torso. You don’t know where he’s taking you, but at this point you give zero fucks.
His tender bedding grazes your back when he lays you down on it with a harsh thud, breaking the kiss and taking your breath away. Bottom lip between his teeth, he studies your soiled body with his cum, kneeling on the bed by your form. He takes his first two fingers and collects his evidence of pleasure, flicking his eyes to yours. You meet him halfway, expecting him to plunge those digits in your mouth and you’re ecstatic, wanting it badly, but Jungkook pushes you down.
In fact, he turns you around—ass up, face down. With just one hand.
You swear, your arousal gaining new intensity. And it’s your needy hole that he plunges his fingers in, briefly stuffing you with his cum, placing his free hand on your lower back so you can arch your spine for him more. Then, he rubs your clit in hard, slow circles, making you cry out, making your legs tremble all over again—
A spank. A brassy, cacophonous spank that drives you forward, forcing you to grip onto the sheets.
“I told you not to do that, didn’t I?” Jungkook rasps. Doesn’t alleviate the burn. “Answer me.”
Fuck. “Yeah, you told me not to do that.”
You brace yourself for another spank, but it doesn’t come. You feel his lips by your ear, his body heat cocooning you as he bends over you, his fists, pitifully, on either side of your back.
“You’re such a filthy little girl. Licking my cum off like that? Making me hard all over again for you?” he tsks, the sound making you even needier. For him, for his cock, even for another spank. You grind your ass against his hip and he maneuvers so his cock slips between your cheeks. Swears, such guttural noise that you mewl in response. “You just do what you want, huh? I guess you don’t love your Daddy anymore.”
He spanks you again, harder than before, and your vowel of disagreement breaks at the concoction of pain and pleasure coursing through your body. “No—no, I love you.”
Another spank. Lips by your ear again, his body clinging to your side. “You love me?” He clamps your mouth shut, preventing you from answering.
You do, anyways, your words muffled. “I love you. I love you so much.”
Jungkook hums in question. “What did you say? I couldn’t hear you.” He digs his fingers harder into your cheek, other hand rounding around your hip and attacking you with bolts of pleasure that make you quiver against him—rubbing your clit rapidly before he sinks his fingers inside you… and merely keeps them there.
You move his hand away and he lets you, holding it, panting. “I love you so much.”
Jungkook groans, sinking his fingers deeper. “Who do you love, hm?”
He wants you to say his rightful title and you do, with all your heart. “You, Daddy. I love you.”
At your words, Jungkook begins to pump his fingers and you cry out, placing your head on his palm, taking it. “Such a good fucking girl, making me crazy—” He growls, pressing a fat kiss on your cheek, curling his fingers slowly into that place that causes your breath to hitch in your throat, your orgasm quick to catch up to you. “Good little girl that loves her Daddy, fuck. I’m gonna give you everything. Gonna eat that little pussy, hm? You want that? Want Daddy to make you come with his tongue?”
You squeak when he gives you one particular, hard stroke against your special place, mind numbing, a dam broken. “Yes, yes, please, Daddy, please—”
He draws away, instantly. Traces your back with his palms as he straightens, smearing your feminine essence all over your skin that he licks up. And then, his mouth—
Jungkook takes you in his mouth. All of you. Licking against your clit, sucking it, rubbing his face in your cunt and groaning against her. His hands squeeze your ass, painting it redder and he flicks your little bundle of nerves with his tongue until he senses your orgasm. Then, he pulls away for a second, stalling it. Thumbs your other, puckered hole.
“My pretty little pussy. All mine.”
Mewling, you shake your ass for him and he growls, cursing, spanking your cheek, taking the flesh in his hand and squeezing it. Again and again, until you feel yourself drip, until you feel him spread your legs wider and nudge himself between them, opening his mouth for it to trickle down upon his tongue.
“Sit up. Ride my face.”
You moan before you even obey, sitting down on his tongue and grinding your pussy on it. He rolls it against you, back and forth, following your rhythm. Slow and romantic, kissing your clit every once in a while, sucking it as you keep up your movement, inching dangerously close to your orgasm. He’s in absolute control of you, though. Of your pleasure and climax, stalling it before beckoning it forth again. You lose yourself in it, in the profound and all consuming delight toying with all your nerve endings, creating something within you that diffuses you with confidence and allure, that inclines you to ride him harder, whimper a little louder and knead your breast until you leave your handprint in your wake.
He lets you do your thing, but as you saw earlier today, there’s only so much that he can take.
Clasping your hips, he angles them until your hole is at level with his nimble tongue, guiding you to lean back and use his chest to hold yourself steady. And like his fingers, he fucks you with the muscle, curling it each time. The filthy noise of your slick and his saliva, his breaths and hums, your obscene moans and then his thumb rubbing your clit rapidly—it’s enough, with his evident permission, for you to come.
And you come so hard that you sprinkle his face with your dew.
He laughs in utter joy, humming—humming deeply and you’re so obsessed with that sound that you come again, shuddering violently and he spanks you, holds you by your waist, digging in his fingerprints, allowing you to ride out your high, to use him until you’re so boneless that you slump against him.
Jungkook drags you down, though, slipping, instantly, his cock inside of you. And it’s wild, wild butterflies that you feel in your gut owing to it, then pain so acute that you whine. Enveloping his arms around you, tightly, with no way of escaping, his wet face is so tender that you coo at him amidst the rush of your colorful feelings. Wipe away your dew, giggling, kissing him loudly as his cock adjusts in you and the bite from overstimulation withers little by little.
“You can take it, I know you can,” Jungkook whispers, beaming up at you, iridescent. “You feel so good around me. So tight. I love being inside of you.”
Slowly, he begins to move, causing your features to scrunch up. In discomfort at first, then in relish as your stiffened nipples rub against the hardness of his chest.
“You’re my good little girl. You take everything I give you so well. So well.” Jungkook picks up his pace, gathering your hair in his fist. Doesn’t pull on it; merely holds it. You whimper, his words loosening the overbearing tightness of your walls. “I’m gonna take care of you. You’re just my little baby. Mine—” A hard thrust. Your eyes roll back. “My baby.”
“Yes, I’m yours,” you croak out and Jungkook takes your face in his hands and pounds into you until all you see is stars. Pretty, pretty twinkling stars.
Slapping skin, his grunts—you don’t even see your orgasm coming, coming over you so violently and yet in such an exhilarating way. Your dew forces him out, forces his chuckles out again and he brings you back to him, kissing you, plunging his cock back with ease.
You’re so lightheaded that you feel like an angel, soaring in the sky. An angel that years for something more. And you tell him. “Jungkook, please, I want the vibrator.”
He merely smiles at you, arm reaching over and pulling out the toy for you from his bedside table. Turning it on, you’re radiated by the light in his eyes and you whimper in impatience. Jungkook shushes you, like a baby, clicking on the intensity until he’s satisfied, placing it on your clit.
And then he gets up.
Pushes you against his closet, back against the wood, legs around his waist, vibrator on your clit and his hand clasped around your mouth, preventing your loud moans from escaping while letting you know how much he loves being in charge. Giving you hard strokes that secure him your soul on a silver platter before he fucks you so fast that you can’t see anything. Your surroundings are a blur while his face remains clear, painted in tortured pleasure for you as if he were holding himself back.
“Come for me, Daddy,” you beg under his palm, your sound muffled, but it seems that Jungkook understands you.
Pulling away, he turns you around and gets into position again. One hand around your mouth, the other holding the toy on your clit, his dick inside. He begins to play with you, not moving his hips at all, only the vibrator. Panting against the crook of your neck, he takes a second to merely breathe with you while you’re on the pathway to another mind blowing orgasm because he turns up the intensity. “How about you come for Daddy first, hm? I know you don’t need me to move when we do this. You can come just like this. So come.”
And you do, embarrassingly, whining all over the place, twisting your hips to chase your pleasure, causing him to emit the same sounds—causing him to pound you so hard against his closet that he, too, comes in mere minutes. His fingers in your mouth, he’s loud and just as whiny as you, fucking you through his orgasm as you play with digits, sucking on them.
He doesn’t pull away for a long time. Presses you against his chest and holds you like that, still connected. The vibrator buzzes on the floor, the air is stuffed, but you’re content, the happiest angel, held and stuffed, too. With cum and dick. Heaven on earth.
Jungkook begins to kiss your neck, marking you there. Fondles your nipples, making you shudder and sigh, making you utter the three words that he deserves.
“I love you, Ggukie.”
Jungkook makes a sound that tears you apart. A whimper; the whiniest you ever heard him be. He pulls out of you, but stuffs you again with his fingers. Makes you squirt in record time, kissing you everywhere he can reach. Neck, shoulder, jaw, cheek and lips.
You must be soaring again in the clouds because you can’t feel your body, especially not when Jungkook says, “I love you, my little squirter.”
Your knees do give out, after all. Jungkook is quick to pick you up and cradle you in his arms. Wash you clean in the shower. Put on a movie for you while making you food, joining you as soon as he can.
It’s love you feel—love most profound. And as you eat the food together and finish the wine with drenched Vinny on the other side of the couch, you fall asleep with that love thrumming in your heart.
You’ll be his for the rest of your life. And he’ll be yours, too.
© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.
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#jungkook x oc#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook smut#bts smut#bts imagine#jungkook imagine#jeon jungkook#bts scenarios#jungkook scenarios#jungkook fluff#btscreatorscorner#kpop smut#jungkook one shot
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scotty doesn’t know - e.m. ii.
eddie munson x fem reader
18+ ONLY MDNI
warnings: all characters are 18+, some angst, no use of y/n, cheating, protective eddie, shitty boyfriend behavior, unwanted touches/advances, underage drinking/partying, grinding, fingering, light praise kink, biting, unprotected piv sex, cream pie
series masterlist
based on scotty doesn’t know by lustra
a/n: god i feel like this took me forever, so apologies for that. but i just need to thank both @undead-supernova and @xxbimbobunnyxx for helping me so much with getting this fic put back together. i love you both so so much. 🥹💕
word count: 8.3k
Out of all the places you wanted to be on a Friday night, Jason Carver’s house wasn’t one of them.
The party was in full swing, music blasting from the speakers in the living room. Red solo cups and beer cans littered every available surface, as your classmates drank without a care in the world. Between the loud, synthy pop music and the constant chattering, you felt incredibly overwhelmed.
Parties were never really your scene.
You wanted nothing more than to go home and put on a film for the night. But dating a popular basketball player brought you out of your comfort zone more often than not. While that could be seen as a good thing, it was the opposite in this case. You never got to do things that you wanted, the plans always revolving around Scott.
However, there was one good thing about the party tonight. Or rather— someone.
Eddie Munson.
He’d kept his distance of course, so as not to raise any alarm bells with anyone. Most likely using the excuse of a good sale to be there in the first place. If anyone bothered to ask him. He rested his shoulder against the living room wall, a bag of freshly rolled joints clutched in his hand.
Eddie had surrounded himself with Robin and Steve the entire night, looking like he wanted to be there even less than you did. You can’t help but steal glances at each other from across the room.
Eddie looks good—he always does. His long curls are tied back in a low bun, sporting his signature ripped jeans and a Metallica shirt that hugs his broad shoulders nicely. You’ve wanted nothing more than to jump his bones the moment you got a chance to be alone.
The idea of sneaking off with him to one of the many guest rooms became more tempting as the party raged on.
You’ve secluded yourself on the sofa in the living room, adjacent to the makeshift dance floor. Thankful that most people are having too much fun to notice you there. You’ve been slowly sipping on a now watered down mixed drink, finding yourself feeling less and less in the party mood. However, your boyfriend seems to have other plans.
Scott is plastered. Irritatingly so.
You spent most of the night hiding from him, knowing how handsy he liked to get when he was drunk.
And as much as you’ve tried to pretend that everything was fine with Scott, your ability to fake it has become much harder. Especially knowing what you could be having instead.
So for the past week you’d avoided being alone with the basketball star. Ever since that fateful phone call the weekend prior. While you had still gone to the party that night, Scott eventually noticed something was up with you. Mostly due to the fact that you hadn’t let him touch you in over a week.
That was the driving force behind his drinking rampage tonight. The male had done 3 keg stands (that you’d witnessed) since he’d been here, on top however many beers he’d consumed. You’re exactly sure, but it’s the worst you’ve ever seen him.
Part of you does feel guilty, but a bigger part of you is starting to care less and less.
Ironically, Take Me Home Tonight by Eddie Money starts playing the moment he finds you again. But going anywhere with him is by far the last thing you wanted to do. The male slurs along to the track as he plops down next to you, nearly spilling his entire drink in your lap.
You can’t hide the grimace on your face as he leans into you, his breath reeking of stale beer. You grab the cup out of his hand before it spills everywhere. Huffing in annoyance as you set it down on the side table.
You really aren’t in the mood to play babysitter.
Scott’s hands, now empty, immediately grab at your hips to pull you in closer. His lips easily find your neck, the feeling of his hot breath making your skin crawl. You gently shove him off, but he leans back into your space immediately.
Normally you’d let him wear himself out, but you really don’t feel like it tonight.
“Scott, come on stop,” you sigh, no longer able to hide the irritation in your voice.
But your boyfriend is clearly not listening, continuing to press sloppy kisses along the exposed skin of your collarbone. A muffled moan leaves him as he guides your hand onto his lap.
You’re no longer able to conceal the alarmed expression that appears on your face as you tug your hand away. “I mean it, Scott.” He just groans in annoyance, feeling his fingers hook into the loop of your jeans.
“You’re too drunk, I said knock it off,” your voice drips with malice, despite how panicked you feel.
The male would always listen if you ever told him off, but his current state of intoxication clearly overtakes any rational thought.
“Oh come on, babe. We haven’t fucked in over a week, I have needs,” he slurs.
Before you have the chance to respond, the weight of his body disappears. You quickly glance up, your eyes widening in shock. Eddie has pulled your boyfriend up by the collar of his polo shirt, and suddenly it’s like the air is sucked out of the room.
Scott is fuming, a slew of curses leaves his mouth as he attempts to shove him off. Eddie is stone faced as he releases him abruptly, causing Scott to stumble backwards. He recovers quicker than you expected, raising his fist to aim a punch at the metalhead. But Eddie’s reflexes are much faster, catching the closed fist and knocking it away.
Scott was good in a fight, but he’s too inebriated to do much damage at this point.
“She said to knock it off, Scotty. I know you’re stupid but are you deaf too?”
You quickly get up and squeeze yourself between the two males, a clear pissing contest about to ensue if you don’t intervene. Your back is pressed against your boyfriend's chest, as your eyes plead with your lover to calm down.
“She’s my girlfriend Munson, fuck off,” he sneers.
The music has suddenly been turned down to a more tolerable volume, the focus of the party now shifting onto you— much to your dismay.
You can feel Scott’s hot breath against your neck, as his hands wrap around your middle to pull you further against his chest. Eddie is furious, his jaw clenched so hard you can see the muscles straining underneath his pale skin.
If you weren’t in this current predicament, you might have found it sexy. But you’re far too anxious to focus on anything else right now.
“Doesn’t matter, she doesn’t want you to fucking touch her,” Eddie’s voice continues to raise, until he’s almost yelling over your head. “No means no, dickhead!”
You can see Jason beginning to push through the crowd, Steve hot on his heels. The last thing you wanted was for this whole situation to escalate further. But judging by the look on Jason's face, you don’t know if you can stop it.
The crowd is clearly itching for a fight to break out, the whole atmosphere of the party shifting.
“Hey, freak! Who even invited you here?”
Eddie doesn’t even flinch at Jason’s insult.
“I did, Carver,” Steve answers, inserting himself in the already strained situation.
The tension between the four males is so thick, it makes you wish the ground would open and swallow you whole. Steve glances down at you for a moment before continuing, “But it seems to me like you need to get McGuire here in line. She’s clearly uncomfortable.”
You feel multiple pairs of eyes flick back to you, your shoulders slouching in an attempt to make yourself appear smaller. You catch Jason’s gaze, knowing he can clearly see the distress flitting over your features. The blonde sighs deeply, resting a hand on Scott’s shoulder.
“Scott, come on, just let it go,” he says, beginning to tug the male away from you. “You’ve had too much to drink.”
Before your boyfriend can even begin to protest, Jason and a newly joined Patrick lead him away. While you’re quite shocked that he was willing to break this up, part of you is thankful. Normally, the pair would egg each other on to keep a fight going. But as big of a prick Jason Carver is, he knew Steve was right.
You can feel the tears welling in the corners of your eyes, the party seeming to return to normal. While Steve has also disappeared into the crowd, Eddie hasn’t moved an inch. His eyes follow the group of jocks as they filed out of the room, casually flipping them the bird.
But his focus quickly returns to you. You can see in his eyes how he so desperately wants to envelop you in his arms and kiss your tears away.
But he knows he can’t. Not here.
Those protective urges are getting harder and harder for him to fight.
He opens his mouth to speak, but before he can say anything else you’re rushing past him. Pushing through the sea of drunken teens and to the front door. Your fight or flight instincts are finally kicking in, and you know you have to leave.
Anywhere is better than here.
You’d hitched a ride to the party with Chrissy, but you’re not about to try and find her now. You need to be alone.
You run for almost three blocks before you have to stop, resting your hands on your knees as you try to catch your breath. You take a minute to let your heart rate slow to a more steady rhythm before you start walking in the direction of your house.
While Hawkins is a relatively small town, your house is still a couple miles from the party. Walking the entire way isn’t the most ideal plan, but you didn’t give yourself much of a choice. And there’s no way you were going back there now.
You can only imagine the rumors that will be floating around the school come Monday. As much as you try to put on a brave face, you care too much about what your peers thought of you. You can already hear the kind of insults that would be thrown your way.
Skank, prude, lying whore.
The possibilities of cruel words were endless. You let out a small hiccup as you continue down the dimly lit street, finally allowing the tears to roll freely down your cheeks. You don’t want to give them the satisfaction of seeing you cry too.
How did you even get to this point?
Two months ago you couldn’t have foreseen yourself in this position. Falling for another guy, whilst simultaneously falling out of love with another. If you ever loved Scott to begin with. You’re not entirely convinced of that fact.
It felt like the easiest option, being with someone like Scott McGuire. He’s well-liked, a person your parents approve of. But you weren’t really happy, just going through the motions instead of chasing what you really want.
Perhaps that was what Eddie had really witnessed that night he had stumbled across you and Scott. Someone who was desperately searching for a way out. And he’d given it to you in ways you never expected.
Eddie was kind, attentive— cared about your feelings and desires.
What started off as just sex quickly snowballed into something much deeper. You had never really given much thought to your own needs. Maybe that was why his offer was too good to pass up, it let you indulge in uncharted territory.
You’d been labeled as a good girl your entire life. You never rebelled and always do exactly as you’re told. To the extent that you never felt an ounce of control over the trajectory of your own relationship. Or many other facets within your life.
It was whatever Scott or your parents thought was best for you. They’ve never taken into consideration what you had actually wanted.
But being with Eddie was like a breath of fresh air. It filled your lungs, greedily inhaling everything he has to offer. After struggling beneath the current for so long, there was no way you would let it pull you back under.
A cool breeze suddenly whips across your face, stinging your wet cheeks. You wrap your arms tighter around yourself to stop a shiver. Thankfully, you had forgone the usual skirts or dresses you adored, in favor of a sweater and jeans. Grateful for the extra layers to combat against the sudden drop in temperature.
You keep your head down as you continue to walk further down the quiet street. Only the sounds of your sneakers padding against the concrete and your soft sniffles fill the night air. It’s almost peaceful.
You make it another block before that tranquility is interrupted. You hear the loud rumble of an engine as a vehicle approaches you from behind. While not many people would be out past midnight in this sleepy town, you don’t think anything of it. You figured they would continue driving down the empty street.
That is until that same vehicle begins to idle next to you.
You glance out of your peripheral and curse softly. You would recognize that van anywhere, having found yourself in the back of it more times than you could count.
The window is cranked down as you turn away, beginning to walk a little faster. But the van keeps pace with you regardless. Eddie calls your name, but you keep your eyes trained on the ground. Tears are steadily streaming down your cheeks now, smearing your mascara.
While the brunette has seen you cry before— it was under very different circumstances. This feels different, like he’s seeing you naked for the first time all over again. Only this time you don’t feel ready for it.
You feel vulnerable and exposed.
You hate it.
Eddie proceeds to plead your name, as you continue to ignore him. He let the upper half of his torso practically hang out of the driver’s side window. The theatrical nature of it is almost enough to make you crack a smile. But you know he wasn’t going to give up until you at least tried to talk to him. With how he had stood up for you, he at least deserves that.
Having made up your mind, you suddenly stop in your tracks. The van squeaks to a halt beside you, the male flinging the driver’s side door open. You see his scuffed Reebox’s first, letting your eyes linger there for a moment. But you immediately squeeze them shut as his fingers softly grasp your chin, tilting it up.
“Sweetheart, look at me, please.” His tone is gentle, but still laced with concern. “It’s just you and me, you’re safe.” The sincerity behind those words has your heart skipping a beat.
You let out a shaky breath as your eyes begin to flutter open. His face is blurred from the tears flooding your lash line. You slowly blink them away until he finally comes into focus.
“There she is…” he declares, the indent in his cheek deepening as he smiles.
The male cups your face between his palms, letting their warmth seep into your cheeks. His thumbs swipe away any lingering tears as he presses a kiss to your temple. Eddie envelops you in his arms, letting you bury your face into his chest. You breathe in the familiar scent of his cologne, letting him hold you like that for a while.
The glow of the street lights cascades down on both of you. The night air only seems to grow colder the longer you both stand there. A shiver runs through you despite the heat radiating from his chest, something he doesn’t miss.
“Alright, time to go, doll,” he mumbles softly, “Can I drive you home?”
You are silent for a moment, mulling over your options in your head. “No,” you finally say, untangling yourself from him.
He looks a little hurt as you turn to walk towards his van, that hurt morphing into confusion as you yank open the passenger door.
“I don’t want to go home,” you explain, seeming to snap him out of his frozen stature. Eddie quickly climbs back into the van, the door barely slamming shut behind him before he pulls back onto the road.
He keeps one hand on the steering wheel, the other tangled with yours on the seat. When you left the party, you had fully intended to go home alone.
But being tangled up with him sounds like a much better option.
You had never been to Eddie’s trailer.
Whether that was intentional or not, you’re not sure. But it’s the one place that he has never taken you to.
He seems nervous as he leads you through the living room. Your eyes wander curiously around the room, taking in the large collection of coffee mugs and hats that decorate the walls. Eddie sheepishly begins picking up some discarded food wrappers, junk mail— all in an effort to tidy up a little.
“Sorry about…” He pauses, hands full as he motions around the room. “All of this." You refrain from rolling your eyes. Tossing some items into the trash, he jokes, “Goddamn maid left us high and dry last week.”
“Let me guess…she ran off with some wannabe rockstar?” You smile, watching as he leans against the kitchen counter with a matching grin.
“Something like that.”
Despite what Eddie has implied about his humble abode, you liked it the moment you crossed the threshold. It has character, a clear representation of the two men who live there. But it also feels warm and incredibly inviting, something your own home hasn’t felt like in quite a long time.
His uncle already left for the night shift, which means the two of you have the place to yourselves. Eddie shows you to the bathroom, giving you a moment alone to collect yourself. But mostly to clean up the mess your mascara had made on your cheeks.
You emerge from the bathroom a few minutes later, Eddie nowhere in sight. He didn’t tell you which room was his, but it doesn’t take you long to figure it out. The door at the end of the hall was left slightly ajar, golden light spilling out onto the shag carpet. But it’s the strum of a guitar that ends up being your guide.
You push open the door to his bedroom, unable to help the small smile that graces your features as you take it all in. The room is a little messy and cluttered— something you expected.
You let your eyes roam over the many posters splayed across the walls, Metallica, Slayer… and one handmade one. Corroded Coffin. You knew Eddie was in a band—it was the one of the things apart from DnD that he seemed extremely passionate about.
Music.
Eddie’s quiet as he sits on the edge of his unmade bed, an acoustic guitar perched on his lap. This machine slays dragons, is painted in white on the side of the instrument. You find yourself suddenly mesmerized, watching as his fingers slowly brush over the strings.
He finally notices how you’ve planted yourself in the doorway, glancing up at you from underneath his lashes.
“Make yourself at home, sweetheart,” he smiles, gesturing around him. “What’s mine is yours.”
He focuses his attention back on the instrument in his lap, testing out a few chords as you shut the door behind you. You step further into the room, letting your fingers trail along the top of his desk.
Being alone with him like this suddenly feels more intimate than any other time before. It’s like he’s letting you peek inside his mind, showing pieces of himself that not many others get to see. Only those that he trusts. And you can’t deny how it warms your insides.
You’re a little too busy exploring the rest of his room that you don’t notice when his eyes have drifted back to you. The brunette gazes at you fondly when you spot a pair of handcuffs dangling next to his mirror. His soft chuckle fills the room as you reach out to run your fingers over the cool metal.
“We can definitely put those to use, doll.” Those words have you squirming, warmth spreading through your limbs. You shy away as you take a seat in the chair next to his desk. “If you want.”
Eddie grins at your flustered expression, glancing back down at his guitar. He’s playing freely now, the chords unfamiliar to you. But they’re beautiful nonetheless.
“You’re really good at… uh,” you trail off softly, gesturing to the instrument.
You notice how the tips of his ears flush pink from your admission, although he acts unfazed by your compliment.
“What, fingering?” he teases, purposefully pressing his fingers down onto the guitar strings in a dramatic manner which makes you giggle.
The song he was playing quickly morphs into something else, something quite familiar. But you can’t quite put your finger on it. You lean forward to rest your chin in your palm.
The moment he begins to hum the lyrics is the moment when the song becomes abundantly clear.
I, I will be king… and you, you will be queen.
“Heroes,” you murmur, the word almost becoming lodged in your throat.
You had mentioned to Eddie in passing a few weeks ago that it’s your favorite Bowie song.
You never expected him to do anything with that information, or even remember it. But he kept finding ways to surprise you. This small act alone proves that he truly cares about you, that he listens to you. It’s overwhelming in the best way possible.
Your body suddenly feels too warm under the thick layers of clothing. Rising to your feet, you grip the hem of your sweater and pull it over your head. You let the soft material fall to the floor, joining a heap of his own clothing. Standing before him in only your bra and jeans.
Eddie seems to fumble over the next few notes as he takes in your newly exposed skin, averting his gaze as he clears his throat. Now it’s your turn to make him flustered.
But he can’t help but glance at you out of the corner of his eye, as you begin unbuttoning your jeans. You shimmy the denim down your legs, kicking them off to the side. You felt emboldened as you strolled over to the brunette’s dresser. His eyes boring into your back as you rummage through his drawers.
You’re in search of a particular item, a smile stretching across your face once you locate it amongst the various band tees. Reaching behind your back you unclip your bra, you let the straps slide off of your shoulders. The item quickly joins the rest of your discarded clothes on his floor.
You don’t hear how his breath hitches in his throat over the strum of his guitar.
You pull Eddie’s faded hellfire shirt from the drawer and slip it over your head. The soft fabric glides over your skin, the hem falling just past the curve of your ass. It smells like an intoxicating mixture of his cologne and laundry detergent.
You hum softly as you breathe it in, turning to face him again. His dark eyes are blown wide, the guitar now almost forgotten in his hands. Just the sight of you in his clothes is making him feel things he’d be too afraid to admit out loud.
You saunter towards him, carefully grasping the neck of the guitar and leaning it against his dresser. He seems dumbfounded as you climb into his lap and wrap your arms around his neck. You tilt your head down towards his ear, lips grazing over it. Enjoying the way he almost shudders beneath you.
“I just want to thank you properly,” you whisper, nipping at his lobe.
Your lips continue to trail across his jaw until you reach his mouth, unable to hold back any longer as you press your lips to his. The feeling of your mouth molding against his own seems to snap Eddie out of whatever trance he was in. His large hands easily find the curve of your waist, gripping the fabric of the shirt in his fists.
Eddie kisses you slowly but deeply, trying to savor the taste of your mouth on his. Your fingers slip the elastic band out of his hair, letting his curls cascade wildly over his shoulders. But the longer he kisses you, the worse the ache between your thighs becomes.
In desperate need of some friction, you grind your hips down against his crotch. Whining as you feel his hardened cock through his jeans. He’d been struggling with it ever since you took that first piece of clothing off. Initially, he was going to ignore it, but then you climbed right into his lap and he lost all sense of logic.
But as much as he wants this to continue, he knows you’re not in the right kind of headspace for more. He groans into your mouth as you continue to rub yourself against him, but his firm grip on your hips stops any further movement. Your eyes flutter open, confusion filling them.
“Slow down, sweetheart,” he pants, one of his hands lifted to carefully cup your cheek. “We don’t have to do anything tonight.”
The look he’s giving you has your heart stuttering, but his words are throwing you for a loop. The whole basis of this… arrangement was sex. The fine line between a casual hookup and a relationship have been blurred for a while. But tonight has made it crystal clear that this has evolved into something much more than that.
Even if neither of you wanted to admit it.
“Do you not want…” you trail off, unable to hide the sliver of hurt in your tone.
He shakes his head, leaning his forehead against yours with a strained sigh.
“Trust me, doll. I definitely want to.” He chuckles, shifting his hips beneath you. “But tonight was… fuck, it was intense. And you can't expect me to believe you're okay after all that. I just want you to have a clear head, is all.”
You mull over his words for a moment as the weight of what happened earlier crashes back over you. And with it, squashing any urge to finish what you had just started.
"I'm not that asshole,” he continues, unable to make out your puzzled expression. “You don't have to fuck me just to make me happy. I'm happy just being with you, like this."
You’re willing yourself not to cry again as he gently presses a tender kiss to your forehead. Eddie basks in the scent of your strawberry shampoo, feeling you start to relax against his chest.
“Now, I don’t know about you.” He yawns, nuzzling your nose with his. “But I think we’ve had enough excitement for one night.”
You laugh quietly, nodding as you climb off his lap. Draping your body over the bed, keeping your eyes focused on him. The male stands to strip down to his boxers, in such a hurry to get back to you that he almost trips over his jeans.
“Down, boy, I’m not going anywhere.” You giggle as he slips under the covers with you.
A sheepish grin tugs at his lips as he clicks off the bedside lamp, bathing the room in darkness. You reach for him just as he does for you, your hands bumping together clumsily.
“Scoot closer.” You can almost hear the pout in his voice, eagerly moving forward until his bare chest is pressed against your clothed one.
“Much better,” he hums.
Eddie slots one of his legs between yours, snaking his arms around your waist. There’s no part of you that isn’t completely entangled in him. You can feel his clothed erection pressing into your hip, and that sense of guilt washes over you again.
Knowing you’d left not one, but two guys pent up tonight.
“I’m really sorry for everything tonight,” you whisper into the darkness, feeling his arms tighten around you.
“Hey, don’t do that. You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for.”
You nod, but those feelings welling up inside you don’t dissipate. Not completely.
Eddie begins to rub soothing circles over your hip, continuing up your side. Your body tenses as you try to stifle a laugh. The male doesn’t realize that his touch isn’t exactly… soothing. But the further his hand creeps up your side the more you start to squirm and a small gasp leaves your lips.
That sound alone is enough to tip him off, now well aware of what he’s done. You can vaguely make out his mischievous grin in the dark, calculating his next move. Before you have time to react both of his hands are trailing up your sides, tickling you.
“Eddie!” You squeal as your body thrashes in his embrace, rolling you underneath him in the process.
The chain of his necklace dangles in your face, his fingers unrelenting as he pulls giggle after giggle out of you. This is a sound he’d vowed to hear as often as he could, his own laugh mingling with yours.
“S’not f-fair!” you squeak out between fits of laughter before he finally lets up so you can breathe. You’re panting a little, your noses brush against each other.
“I like making you laugh,” he admits, almost shyly. “It’s cute.”
You reach out for his face in the darkness, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his jaw. You can feel the warmth that’s radiating against your lips, allowing your lips to linger there for a moment.
Coming to the realization that you’d just made Eddie Munson blush brings a wide smile to your face.
“I just want to say thank you for earlier… and for letting me stay the night. I really appreciate it.”
Eddie settles back down next to you on the mattress, your palms resting against his chest. His lips search for yours in the darkness, leaving kisses all over your face in his fumbling attempt to find your lips. Another round of giggles escapes you from the tender gesture.
His ability to make you feel so safe and secure is still so new to you. You don’t want this feeling to end— you never want any of this to end. However, you know this isn’t fair. Eddie doesn’t deserve to be someone’s secret.
But as time passed and this relationship continued to progress, the more you began to realize that you didn’t want to keep him a secret anymore.
“Anytime, sweetheart,” he mumbles, his voice thick with sleep.
You snuggle yourself further against him, limps tangling together. With your ear pressed to his chest, you can hear the steady beat of his heart. The way his breathing starts to slow and become more even.
“Goodnight, Eds,” you whisper, stifling another laugh as a soft snore answers you.
You allow your eyes to slip shut, exhaustion finally overtaking you as his heartbeat continues to lull you to sleep.
Sunlight streaming through the thin curtains is what awoke you that next morning.
A sigh falls from your lips as you attempt to stretch out your overly stiff limbs. Which is when you feel a stirring beneath you. Your eyes fly open as the events of last night trickle back in.
The party, Scott being a grade A asshole, Eddie taking care of you...
If your body wasn’t currently draped over him, you might have convinced yourself it was all a dream. That Eddie dropped you off at home, and you were snuggled beneath your floral bedspread. But to your relief, that clearly isn’t the case.
Your body stills in an attempt not to stir the sleeping metalhead beneath you. At some point during the night you must have gotten yourselves into this position. Laying on his chest, with his arms wrapped securely around your middle. But you don’t mind in the slightest.
In fact, you feel more rested than you have in quite some time. You just wish you could stay like this forever, wrapped up in him and only him. Lifting your head, you rest your chin on your hand and begin to study his sleeping features.
He looks completely at ease.
Faint freckles are scattered across his nose and cheeks, his long lashes fanning over them. His dark curls are wild from sleep, fanned out over his flannel pillowcase. Pouted lips slightly chapped, but kissable all the same. He really is beautiful.
You continue to watch him sleep for a while longer, the morning sun cascading over the tops of his cheekbones. But his breath remains even, small snores slipping out every so often. As you gaze at him, you can’t help but silently scold yourself.
You’re falling for Eddie Munson more and more each day, and you know you can’t keep this up.
You have to end things with Scott.
And as much as you want to stay snuggled up with Eddie, your body has other needs. You don’t exactly know how you’re going to get up without disturbing him, but your bladder is in desperate need of relief.
You sigh as you begin to shimmy further down his body, your legs falling on either side of his hips. A squeak of surprise leaves you as you feel his hard on pressing against your inner thigh through his boxer shorts. It shouldn’t have been that big of a shock to you—morning wood is normal, right?
But you didn’t have much experience with sleepovers of this nature. Despite dating Scott for well over a year, you’ve never spent the night with him like this. So it’s something quite new to you. While you silently ponder over this, Eddie begins to stir again.
A soft moan tumbles past his lips as you accidentally press yourself harder against his boner in an attempt to swing your leg back over the other side of his hip.
“Mm… where do you think you’re going, doll?” His voice is thick with sleep, an octave lower than normal. The gravelly nature of it makes heat shoot between your legs.
You curse softly as you glance up at him, those chocolate hues gazing back at you. Eddie’s fingers splayed across the tops of your thighs, sliding up to encircle your hips. You feel your body flush, his eyes darkening as he looks you over— straddling him, wearing nothing but his shirt.
When he lifts his hips to grind you against him, you can’t stop the whimper that escapes.
“Eds, hold on. I have to pee,” you mumble, feeling embarrassed as his hips still beneath you.
He just lets out a deep laugh as his hands release your hips. You climb over him, quick to scramble off the bed.
“Alright, I guess I’ll allow it,” he teases, the tips of fingers brushing against yours. “Just hurry back, sweetheart.”
Your heart warms at the sight of him, his brown eyes filling with adoration as they look up at you. Leaning over the bed, you press a small kiss to his mouth. A giggle leaves your own as he gives your ass a small pat before you book it to the bathroom.
You feel much better after finally relieving yourself, washing your hands as you glance into the mirror. Your eyes almost sparkle in the muted light, a dopey smile stretched across your face. Is this what it feels like to be in a healthy relationship?
You don’t dwell on it long, far too eager to return back to him. You slip out of the bathroom and tiptoe back to Eddie’s bedroom. Taking extra care to be quiet as you weren’t sure if Wayne has returned home from work yet. And frankly, you’d be mortified if you met him under these conditions—with you clad in only Eddie’s shirt and your panties.
What a great way to make a first impression.
You close his bedroom door behind you slowly, letting the lock click gently into place. You turn back around to face him and lean against the door. Eddie is in the same spot you had left him, only now he’s leaning halfway up on one elbow. That hunger hasn’t left his gaze as he beckons you over with his index finger.
Looking at his hands makes your thighs clench together, knowing all the wonderful things they were capable of. You take your bottom lip between your teeth as you approach him, stopping at the edge of the mattress. Eddie’s fingers ghost over the plush skin of your thighs, leaving goosebumps in his wake.
They continue up until they reach the elastic of your panties. He gives you a look, silently asking for permission. You guide his fingers beneath the fabric, aiding him in sliding them down your legs. As you step out of the material, your eyes glance back up to meet his.
“Come here.”
It’s spoken softly, but the command in his voice makes your breath hitch.
You move on instinct, your desire fueling your actions as you straddle his hips. There’s a fluidity in your movements as you rest your hands on his chest. Your manicured nails gently trail over his stomach, watching the lust continue to swirl behind his irises.
While this wasn’t a position you’d dabbled in up to this point, the way he’s regarding you has your confidence flourishing. He wants you, and he wants you badly.
At this point you’d give him the moon and the stars if he asked.
Once you’re settled on top of him, you can feel how his cock strains against the fabric of his boxers. Testing the waters, you glide yourself along his shaft, his hands reaching up to encircle your waist. He simply rests them there, allowing you to take the lead.
The worn cotton of his briefs provides some much needed friction against your clit. You bite down on your lip in an attempt to keep a moan from slipping out. But the male isn’t having any of that. He reaches his hand up to remove your lower lip from between your teeth.
His calloused thumb brushes over your mouth, slipping the digit past your lips.
“No need to be shy, sweetheart. I wanna hear you.”
You nod your head, humming as your tongue swirls around his thumb. You eagerly suck it deeper into your mouth, which pulls a low groan from him. But Eddie can only take so much of your teasing, removing his thumb to grip back onto your hips. Your lower lip juts out in a small pout, which causes him to chuckle.
“Now none of that, or I’ll give you something to pout about,” he quips, giving your ass a warning smack.
The hint of a threat in his tone has you whimpering, guiding your hips harder along his shaft.
You grip the hem of his shirt in between your fingers, beginning to lift it over your hips but he stops you. A brow raising as you look down at him.
“Fuck, keep it on,” he says with a groan. “Wanna see you riding me in it.”
His confession has you feeling timid, letting your hands settle back at your sides. Eddie’s fingers begin to trail over the top of your thigh, before dipping between them. His digits glide between your slick folds, brushing over your bundle of nerves. It causes your breath to hitch, eagerly grinding your hips back against his fingertips.
“Eddie, please,” you breathe.
“Use your words, pretty girl,” he hums. “Tell me what you want.”
Impatience gnawed at you as you lifted your hips, your fingers dipping past the waistband of his boxers. You tug them down to release his cock from their confines, your actions surprising you both. As much as you loved when he touched you, your body was already craving more.
Wrapping your palm around the base of his shaft, he groans. His jaw slackens as he watches you guide the tip through your drenched folds. Nudging it against your clit once…twice…a third time.
Before you finally line him up with your entrance, guiding your hips down.
“Shit, hold on doll, need a condom.”
Eddie holds you in place with one hand, as the other reaches over into his night side table. He’s blindly searching for one of the foil packets when you blurt out, “I don’t want it. Need you to fuck me raw, Ed.”
Your words stop him in his tracks, eyes widening in almost disbelief. You suddenly feel nervous, praying you didn’t just ruin everything with your admission.
“Are you sure? I-I wouldn’t want to risk…” he trails off, licking his lips as he regards you with a somewhat guarded expression.
You nod, leaning forward to whisper in his ear, “I’m on the pill. I just… I want you to be the first one to do it, Eddie.”
His groan rumbles through his chest, the implication behind your words only makes him want you more. Scott never got to do this.
This is something that would be his, and his alone.
His hand cradles the back of your neck, guiding your face towards his. Crashes his lips against yours, the desperation behind them telling you his resounding answer. But you want to hear him say it. Nipping at his lower lip, you pull away to sit back up and rest your palms on his chest.
The male is panting beneath you, his flustered expression only causes your confidence to grow. A smirk adorns your features as Eddie lifts his hips upward in an attempt to grind them into yours, but you push back against his hip to stop the movement.
“Nuh uh, handsome,” you purr, your fingertips gliding through the hair just below his navel. “Tell me what you want. Use your words.”
Eddie’s brain nearly short circuits as you use his former words against him. A slew of curses tumbles from his lips as you grasp his cock in your hand, rubbing it through your folds but not yet breaching the entrance. Awaiting his response as you continue to tease him, feeling his fingers grasping onto your ass.
“Fuck, I wanna come inside you so bad, sweetheart,” he whines.
You hum in approval, leaning back down to press a sloppy kiss to his mouth. Eddie instantly reciprocates, his tongue working its way past your lips. You teasingly suck the muscle into your mouth before pulling away. A string of saliva connects you as you sit up fully. Eddie curses again, his hands gripping onto your ass even harder.
“Fuck— come on, please.”
Hearing Eddie Munson beg is what finally breaks your resolve, slowly sinking down onto his cock.
It didn’t matter how many times you’ve had him, he always made you feel so full. This time feels…different, though. It’s as though you can feel every vein and ridge of his cock caressing your inner walls, the sensation has you gasping. Your body stills once he’s fully sheathed inside you, letting your palms splay across his chest.
“That’s it, takin’ me so good, doll,” he grunts as his head falls back against the pillow. His praise has you beaming.
You stay like that for a moment until you become familiar with the feeling of him inside you again. Beginning to lift your hips slowly, his cock nearly slipping out of you completely. As you begin to lower yourself onto him again, his face contorts in pleasure—now hiding those beautiful irises from you.
“Eddie… baby. Look at me,” you coo.
The pet name slips past your lips almost too easily, enjoying the way it sounds on your tongue. Eddie’s eyes snap back open to meet yours. His pupils are blown wide, the black nearly swallowing the brown of his irises whole. The male peers up at you in a mixture of lust and awe as you continue to take him deeper.
If he could watch you ride him all day, he would.
However, your leisurely pace is starting to drive him insane. The brunette begins to buck his hips up into yours, swift but deep thrusts that take you by surprise. A moan gets caught in your throat as he rams into your sweet spot, eyes rolling back into your head. Witnessing your visceral reaction, he continues to repeat the action as your chest starts to heave.
“Christ, you look so pretty with my cock inside you, baby,” he moans, his fingers digging harder into your hips.
Any thoughts of remaining quiet are thrown out the window the moment he speaks. A loud moan rips itself from your throat, filling the silence of his bedroom. His praise has your walls tightening around his shaft, your head falling forward as you open your eyes. A smug look adorns his features, eyes falling to where your bodies connect.
He looks so good like this— underneath you, eyes wide and his cheeks beautifully flushed.
“You like that don’t you? My pretty girl…”
The sound that leaves you is borderline pornographic, nails digging into his shoulders as you ride him faster. You can’t disguise the way your body reacts to being called his, your arousal making a slippery mess between your bodies.
You reach for him, coaxing him up until your chests are pressed together. Lips find each other instantly, tangling your fingers in his already wild locks. One of his hands travels between you, rubbing at your swollen bud.
“Fuck— Eddie,” you cry out as he massages your clit faster, simultaneously bucking his hips up into you.
You meet each of his thrusts by slamming your hips back down, thighs burning with the effort. One more brutal thrust into your cervix has you seeing stars, your head burying itself into the crook of his neck. You bite down onto the flesh of his shoulder to muffle a loud cry.
Your thighs tremble as your body slumps forward—unable to continue.
But Eddie keeps going, chasing his own end as he guides you further along his cock. He isn’t able to hold off much longer, as the constant fluttering of your walls becomes his undoing. He spills inside you with a deep grunt as you cling onto his biceps.
The male soon collapses into you, his chest heaving as he captures your lips together. You sigh into his mouth as he holds you tightly against him, breathing the air back into your lungs. You stay like that for a moment, locked together in the most intimate way possible.
Eddie carefully ushers your hips upward, coaxing you back onto the mattress. You whimper softly, already missing the feeling of him inside you. His cum has begun to drip onto the bed sheets as he kneels before you, spreading your legs so he can admire the mess he’s made.
Eddie’s eyes are still wide with lust as he takes in the sight of you, dipping his fingers between your thighs to gather some of his cum on the digits. He slowly eases them back inside your entrance in an attempt to keep anything else from spilling out. You whine his name, reaching out for him as he gently removes his fingers from your center.
The male presses multiple kisses to your shaky thighs before he crawls his way back up your body. Just as he goes to wipe his fingers on his sheets you grab onto his wrist, slipping the digits past your lips.
“Jesus Christ, sweetheart,” he mumbles, feigning hurt when you playfully nibble on his fingers. He starts to pull away, ignoring your pout as he gets off up off the bed. You’re about to protest but he hushes you with a kiss. “I’ll be right back.”
Eddie quickly fixes his boxers before he slips out of his bedroom, returning moments later with a damp washcloth. He’s back between your legs, gently cleaning up the dried arousal on your thighs. He takes his time, making sure every inch of your skin is clean before he tosses the dirty rag in his overflowing laundry basket.
Eddie helps you into a sitting position as he cups your cheek, thumb brushing over your lower lip. He smiles fondly at you, dimple indenting his cheek as a familiar look flashes through his eyes. The one you had noticed the week prior when you were draped across his chest in your bedroom. A look he seems to give you almost every time you’re together now.
You still aren’t sure what exactly it means. All you do know is that you want to see more of it.
Eddie tries to hide it as he presses a kiss to your nose, chuckling as you scrunch it beneath his lips. “You hungry? I’m not the best cook, but I can definitely whip you up a nice omelet?”
You beam at him, nodding your head as he gets up to rummage through his dresser drawers. He eventually finds a pair of shorts for you to wear, handing you the garment as he pulls on a pair of sweatpants. You glance down at the ground, attempting to look for your discarded panties, only to come up short.
“Eddie? Have you seen my panties?” You sigh, beginning to look through the clothes scattered across the floor. Hearing him chuckle you glance up, a small smirk stretching across his lips. It’s then that you notice the black lacy fabric clutched in his fist.
“These are mine now, sweetheart,” he winks, tucking them into his bedside table.
You feel a little flustered as you pull the shorts up over your legs, playfully swatting his chest as you stand. Eddie just laughs, pulling you into arms and kissing you again. He eagerly threads your fingers together, leading you out of the room.
However, once he begins to guide you through the trailer— there's only one thing on your mind.
Scotty has got to go.
— next chapter.
sdk taglist: @xxbimbobunnyxx @munsonhoneybaby @mugloversonly @lemme-slytherin-that-dick @transparentenemypenguin @calumfmu @vamp-bunny @eddiesxangel @nailbatanddungeon @deathst9r @comeonatmebruh
#the freak writes 🫧#my series: scotty doesn’t know 🫧#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson smut#eddie munson angst#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x female character#eddie munson x fem!reader smut#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x fem reader
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𝐆𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐞 𝐀 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 | 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐨
word count: 4k
summary: Friends with benefits never works out. Someone always falls, but will they fall, too?
warnings: mild angst, drinking is mentioned, MINORS DNI 18+ content under the cut -> unprotected sex, slight hair pulling from reader to john, that’s it i think?
note: first johnny baby fic. hope you guys like it<3
The first time you met John Marino was in some dingy bar when your friend invited you out after a particularly long and strenuous day at work. Her boyfriend and a few of his friends were going to be there, and she thought it would help ease some of the stress that had accumulated over the last few days. You were initially hesitant to go, knowing that Jack’s friends were likely going to be his hockey teammates, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to be around that specific group of people, but you went anyway.
You ended up having a great time, mingling with some of the other girls and guys who were there, and you also met John. He introduced himself to you, casting you a bright smile as his brown eyes bore into your own. He didn’t bother to be subtle in his advances with lingering touches and brief glances to your lips, but you didn’t mind it all that much. After all, he was easily one of the most attractive men you’d ever seen.
You end going home with him that night, spending the rest of your time out tangled in his sheets with his sweaty body pressed against your own. When you slip out of his apartment the next morning, you tell yourself that it was just a one time thing, that it was never going to happen again, but then it did. And again. And again. It happened so many times that the two of you had to have The Talk about what you were, ultimately agreeing on the notorious “friends who just hook up sometimes”.
It was a bad idea, and you knew that. You know that no matter how many times one says that there are to be no feelings involved, someone always falls. Someone always breaks the one rule that shouldn't be broken, and of course it was you who did. You had fallen for John Marino, and you didn’t know what you were supposed to do.
Going out wasn’t exactly something you wanted to do. In fact, you would have much rather stayed home in the comfort of your own bed and slept through the weekend. You’d had yet another shit week at work, and nothing seemed to go in your favor from the moment you woke up Monday. All you wanted to do was relax, but, in true Macy fashion, she convinced you to come out with her and the guys to celebrate whatever win they had secured.
At first, you were having a decent time surrounded by a slew of hockey players and their friends as they drank and had fun. You did your best to avoid John like you had done for the last few days, not wanting to think about the way he made you feel. You wanted to temporarily forget about all of your stress for the night, and that was arguably the most stressful of them all.
You were pressed against the bar, sweaty and sticky bodies bumping into you as they passed behind you. It was taking all of your willpower to not turn around each time someone would push into you a little too hard, but you kept your composure to preserve your decent attitude. You thanked the bartender and told him to put it under Jack’s tab before turning around to rejoin your friend, but you froze when you saw him.
John was sitting on one of the stools, a beautiful girl leaning on the table as she talked to him. She was slightly leaning forward, her chest on full display before him as he smiled at her, and even from there you could see his eyes dart down below her face. From where you stood, it looked like he brushed the skin of her arm with his hand when he brought it up to adjust the hat on his head, but if you were closer you would be able to see how uninterested he was. Yet the thought alone was all it took to ruin your mood.
The sight in front of you suddenly made the urge to go back home trump any desire you’d previously had to stay at the bar. Initially, you came to appease your friend because you knew she’d tease you all weekend, but now your obligation was out of the window. There was no coming back from the sour mood you were in, and you didn’t want to ruin her own, so you chose to place your still full drink on the bar and beeline to the exit.
You ordered an uber the moment you stepped outside, leaning against the brick wall as you hugged your arms against your body. Of course you knew you had no reason to be upset. It was you who made the suggestion that you could still see other people because you weren’t dating. It was you who made a point to stress that there were to be no feelings from either of you, but you’d always been bad at listening to your own advice. After all, it was you who fell for him.
When your ride pulled up to the curb, you finally sent Macy a text telling her that you were going home and that you would see her later. You knew she’d come outside had she known you were out there waiting, and you were too frustrated to deal with what would’ve been her pleas to go back inside. You loved her, you really did, but you just wanted to go wrap yourself in your blankets and forget about everything before you had to do the same routine next week.
Pulling up to your apartment complex, you thanked your driver and slipped out of the car. The air was cool against your skin as you walked into the building, greeting the overnight doorman who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else than there. The elevator ride to your apartment felt like it lasted a lot longer than usual, and you’d never felt more relieved about anything than when you had finally stepped foot in the comfort of your own home.
“Finally,” You muttered to yourself as you stepped out of your shoes.
Your clothes felt too tight and your skin felt sticky and disgusting. Your hair felt like it was a knotted mess and you know your makeup had ran a bit while you were in the bar. On top of that, you felt like you wanted to cry out of sheer frustration. All you wanted to do was shower, crawl into bed and put on some shitty tv show until sleep graced your exhausted body.
You had just slipped on fresh clothes after your shower when you heard the sound of someone rapidly knocking on your door. Initially you ignored it, but it happened again a few minutes later, so you begrudgingly went to see who was bothering you so late at night. When you looked through the hole in your door, you saw the last person you wanted to see.
“What do you want,” You snapped as you flung the door open, glaring at John as he stood there with his hands in his pockets.
John looked slightly startled at your harsh tone, but he quickly recovered before speaking, “Macy said you left because you weren’t feeling well, so I came to make sure you were okay.”
It was your turn to be taken aback as he looked down at you, the nerves radiating off his body meshing with your own. Every feeling you had been trying to suppress came flooding to the surface the second you looked at him, and him standing outside your door with his soft brown eyes was doing nothing but making that worse. You needed him to leave so you could force yourself to swallow your feelings and move on.
“I’m fine. You can go,” You grumbled, attempting to shut the door, but his hand slapped the wood, keeping the door open just enough that he could see through it.
“What’s wrong? You’ve been ignoring me,” He rushed out, voice hesitant as his eyes stayed focused on your own.
Your breath caught in your throat as you stared at him, slightly caught off guard at the directness of his question. When you didn’t answer for a few moments, John caught you off guard and shoved your door open enough for him to slip inside your apartment. He ignores your quiet protests as he shuts the door, his body so close to your own that you can clearly make out the scar on his cheek.
Blood was pounding in your ears, your heart thudding so loudly in your chest that you’re certain he was able to hear it. He was peering down at you, a multitude of emotion swirling within the depths of his dark irises. Your fingers twitched towards him, aching to pull him close, but you forced them at your side as you swallowed the lump in your throat.
“What did I do,” He asks, his voice so quiet that it was almost a whisper.
You let out a sigh, running your hand through your hair as you look at the ground, “Nothing, John. You did nothing, but you need to go. I’m sure you have some girl down there waiting for you.”
“The only girl I want is standing right in front of me and she won’t tell me what’s bothering her,” John admits, his gaze on you unrelenting and unwavering.
Your body stills as you let his words ring in your ears, coherent and well-strung thoughts fleeing your mind as you try to wrap your head around what he had said. Surely he hadn’t meant it in the way you wanted him to. Surely he was just saying that because his bar girl fell through and he knew all he had to do was mumble a few words and you were putty in his hands.
John whispers your name like it was delicate, like it was going to shatter if he uttered it with too much force. Your eyes snapped to meet his own, both of you staring at each other like you were afraid of what could happen next. Neither of you spoke, letting the silence envelope you in the most uncomfortable and nerve wracking hug as John’s words echo around you.
“Nothing is bothering me,” You whisper, tears threatening to prick the corners of your eyes.
“Then why haven’t you been talking to me? You didn’t even look at me in the bar,” He forces out, voice laced with sadness and uncertainty, “Talk to me, please. I want to know what I did.”
He had stepped closer to you now, your back pressed against your door as you looked up at him through glassy eyes. When John notices the uncried tears brewing in your eyes, his hands are cupping your jaw, his thumbs rubbing against the skin of your cheeks. His tender affection is what breaks the dam, and you’re squeezing your eyes shut in an attempt to slow the rush of tears.
“Baby,” He murmurs, “I need you to work with me here. I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me. Is it– Did you find someone else?”
You can hear the way he has to force himself to say the words, almost as if he’s suppressing anger or disgust at the thought. It almost makes you want to laugh; the fact that he thinks someone else is the reason for your behavior rather than yourself. You were the cause of your own heartache.
“Of course not,” You shake your head, breathing shaky and uneven, “It’s just— John, please don’t make me say it.”
“If it is anything close to what I want it to be, I need you to say it. I need to hear it come out of your mouth,” He’s pleading with you, begging you to give him exactly what he needs to make his next move, “I need you to give me a reason to stay, or a reason to leave.”
With his eyes unrelenting from your own, you force yourself to speak through the nauseating nerves, “You’re the only one I want, too. I don’t ever want anyone else.”
Not even a second later, John surges forward and slams his lips on your own in a kiss that would’ve sent you toppling over had you now already been pressed against the door. You’ve kissed John before, plenty of times, but this was different. This was searing, blinding in a way that made you feel like you were floating above the clouds.
John tastes the salt from your tears on your lips, his own meshing with yours in a way that leaves him wondering why he had ever kissed anyone else before. He always thought you were made for him, that you fit perfectly against him, but this was different. This was much more real than it ever had been.
You dropped your hands down to the hem of his t-shirt, slipping them underneath the material so you could delicately drag your nails across the toned muscle. John falters, his teeth accidentally clashing against your own as his body shudders underneath your touch. You can’t help but smile against him, relishing in the fact that you had the same effect on him that he did you.
“Johnny,” You mumble, every nerve in your body desperately screaming for his touch, “Let’s go to my room.”
“Are you sure,” He asks, pulling away so he can clearly look at your face, “We don’t have to— We can just hang out.”
“John,” You start, voice serious and flat, “I don’t want to “hang out”. I’ve been stressing myself out trying to avoid my feelings for you, and I’ve had a shit week. I need you to take me to my bedroom.”
“Fuck. Yeah, okay. Let’s go,” He rushes out, his hand falling down to carefully grab your own and drag you down the hallway to your bedroom.
He shoves through your bedroom door, tugging you back into his chest as he reattaches his lips back to your own. Your hands fly up to tangle in his hair, gently pulling on his curls as you move your mouth against his own. John’s hands are on your hips, keeping you steady while he walks the two of you backwards until he feels the mattress on the back of his knees. Without breaking apart from you, he sits on the bed and guides your hips so that you’re straddling his waist.
You grind your hips down against him, your hands dropping to the hem of his shirt as you began tugging up his torso. John pulls his mouth away from yours so you can pull his shirt over his head, him doing the same with your own. His eyes immediately dart down to your naked chest, his tongue swiping across his bottom as he cups one of your breasts in his hand. You’re grasping at his shoulders, trying to keep yourself steady on his lap as he begins to suck on the skin of your neck.
Your fingernails dig into his back, breathy pants passing though your lips as his teeth graze over the sensitive spot he’d marked. John groans when you push yourself further onto his bulge, squeezing the flesh in his hands as he drops his head to your shoulder. You slowly grind your hips, creating enough friction to your core that a quiet moan of your own fills his ears. You’re able to find a painfully slow rhythm, but John drops his hands to your hips and keeps you in one place as he meets your lips in a hungry, painfully needy kiss.
“John,” You whisper against his mouth, “Need you now. Please.”
He doesn’t hesitate to lift you off of his lap and place you on the bed, moving away so he’s kneeling in front of you and able to slide your shorts down your legs. He briefly falters in his movements as his eyes drag down the length of your body, drinking in every inch of you as he silently worships you like your body was sculpted for him. Your cheeks flushed, like they always did when he looked at you that way, and you dropped your eyes to the waistband of his jeans as you unbuttoned them.
John watches your fingers fumble with his zipper, his breath hitching in his throat when you flatten your palm against him and press down on him. He throws his head back, but the feeling of your hand was gone almost as soon as it arrived and he felt you tug the material down his toned legs. He kicks them away from him before looking down at you, a smug smile forming on his lips as he watches you clench your thighs together at the sight of his cock in front of your face.
No matter how many times you’d seen him before, the sight in front of you made your mouth water and the wetness between your legs worsen tenfold. You carefully grasp him in your hands, rubbing your thumb over the precum that coated the sensitive head. You feel him shudder from your touch, and it only encourages you to lean forward, but he stops you by taking your chin between his fingers.
“Not tonight, princess,” He lowly speaks, his thumb ghosting over your lips, “I’ve missed you too much.”
You swallow thickly, your eyes wide with anticipation as you look up at him. He’s got his head cocked to the side, his curls an untamed mess on his head as the corner of his mouth twitches. He drops your chin, jerking his head to silently urge you to crawl backwards onto the bed. As you’re doing that, you watch as he walks towards your nightstand and moves to open the drawer that typically houses a small box of condoms.
“John,” You call out, pulling your lip between your teeth, “We don’t— It’s okay tonight. Just don’t, you know.”
“Are you sure,” He asks, dropping his hand away from the handle.
“Yeah,” You nod, “I’m sure.”
A few seconds later, John is back on top of you with his lips on yours as he uses his forearms to bear most of his weight. You tangle your hands in his hair, tugging on the curls as your mouth moves in sync with his own. You can feel his stiff erection pressed between your thighs, and you lift your hips up in a desperate attempt to get any sort of friction. John moved one of his hands down to grip your hip, his fingers splaying against the skin as he pushes you back down.
“I’m getting there,” His laughter vibrates against your lips, “Just wanted to kiss you first.”
“Wanna feel you,” You whined, his fingers lighting the skin underneath them on fire.
John mumbled under his breath, his eyes darkening as he slides his hand from your hip to grasp his length. He glances back up to you, keeping hold of your gaze as he slides himself between the slickness of your folds. Breathy whines begin to spill from your lips as you pull at the strands of his hair, the teasing anticipation making your heart race more than it already had been.
He slowly pushes himself into your entrance, hissing as your walls clench around him when he bottoms out inside of you. He carefully rocks his hips into your own, keeping himself steady above you and his movements short. Your bottom lip is pulled between your teeth, your eyes screwed shut as he lets you adjust to his size for a moment. Small, shallow whimpers are the only thing he hears as he slowly increases his rhythm as he dips his head down.
“That’s right, pretty girl,” He whispers into your ear, his chest pressing against your own, “You’re doing such a good job. You always take me so well.”
“Harder,” You choke out, pressing the back of your head into the pillow beneath you.
John doesn’t need to be told twice as swiftly grips the bottom of your thigh and bends your leg over his shoulder before he harshly slams into you, your cries bouncing off the walls of your bedroom. Your hands fall down to his back, fingernails digging crescent shaped indents into his tanned skin as he finds a pace that he’s learned drives you insane in the best way possible.
His name falls from your lips like a prayer, filtering in through his ears and making the blood rush straight down to his cock. He loves watching you slowly fall apart underneath, feeling your pussy clench around him like it was made for him. One of his favorite sounds were the moans and whimpers that you made when he was buried inside of you. That sound alone could make him cum.
“Harder,” You repeat your plea from moments ago, deliberately digging your heel in his lower back in an attempt to push him further.
“Fuck,” John groans, his curls sticking to his forehead as he does exactly what you ask.
Skin slapping against skin echoes around you, your whines lacing with his low grunts as you explore the planes of his back with your hands. You feel yourself reaching your release, nearly toppling over the edge as John hits into you so deeply that it was the only thing you could register. You know he’s close too, judging by the way his hips keep faltering and stuttering against your own.
“Johnny,” You murmur as the knot in your stomach begins to come undone, “I love you.”
John swears his heart stops beating in that moment, but he doesn't stop his movements as your walls flutter around him and your nails scrape down his back. He fucks you through your orgasm, his head buried in the crook of your neck as he forces his own back just a little longer. He wanted to feel you wrapped around him for as long as he could, but he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.
“I love you,” He whispers against your neck, peppering small kisses to the skin as he feels you relax underneath him, “So much.”
John feels himself reel into his own orgasm, and he quickly pulls out of you, letting your leg fall back to the mattress as he grasps his length in his hand. He releases his load on your stomach, careful to not get anything on your mattress or your face as he lets deep moans fall from his lips. Your eyes were drooping, your body coming down from the blissful high still hazing your mind as you watch his head fall backwards.
His chest is heaving as he tries to catch his breath, his lips parted and his eyes closed in a way that makes him look unreal. You’d always thought John was pretty with his curly hair, his brown eyes, and his soft features, but the way he looked before you completely took your breath away. There truly was no one else who even came close to him.
He carefully leans over you and presses a small kiss to your lips before he slides off the bed and darts into your bathroom. He’s back almost as quickly as he was gone with a towel in hand, batting your hand away when you try and take it from his grasp. He wipes away the warm, sticky liquid from your skin, making sure to clean you up entirely before he does so himself. He makes sure to put the dirty towel in the basket of already dirty clothes before he returns to you.
“Up,” He instructs, “I can see the goosebumps on your arms, you’re getting under the blanket.”
“I don’t think they’re from the cold, John,” You snickered, but you pushed yourself off and shoved the blanket down underneath your body.
John’s cheek slightly flushed at your comment before he was slipping back in bed, pulling the blanket back up over you and tugging you into his arms. You placed your hand on his chest, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck as he dragged his fingertips down your back. For the first time in a long time, you felt yourself truly relax, and it was all thanks to some guy you met in a rundown bar.
#john marino#john marino x reader#john marino imagine#john marino smut#john marino fic#john marino one shot#nhl imagine#hockey imagine
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To Be Another Notch... (Chapter Two)
Pairing: Leighton Murray x Reader
Warnings: sick reader, reference to the chapter 1 smut
Word Count: 1100, Part 2/?
Part 1
Just a little follow up to "To Be Another Notch in Your Bedpost." Might keep it going, might not. I don't really have any specific ideas for where this one could go, though!
Also, Anonymous Asked: All I can think about now is like what if Leighton x reader are snowed in at Essex and the reader is deliriously ill and Leighton goes into protector mode and her roommates don’t know how to react since they’ve never seen this side of her with anyone before
I don't know if I did a super excellent job addressing this ask but I hope y'all like it! I'm in a bit of a writer's block rn so I'm doing me best. <3
Reader wakes up very sick and Leighton takes care of her. (Reader is explicitly she/her in this one).
You had slept over with Leighton after your night together. You awoke, bundled warmly in her deluxe comforter.
Well, technically, you didn’t wake up of your own accord. Leighton jostled you in an attempt to wake you and it wasn’t until she had to begin shouting your name that you actually came to. And furthermore, you weren’t exactly comfortably warm. You felt freezing cold but your skin was covered in sweat and you were approaching a fever of 102 degrees Fahrenheit.
To make matters even worse, Essex had been the victim of a massive snowstorm overnight. Leighton had only been trying to gently wake you to let you know that classes had been canceled and you were welcome to stay, but then she felt how your skin was burning.
You opened your eyes blearily and were met with Leighton’s panicked expression and the back of her hand pressed against your forehead.
“Oh my god, you’re burning up.”
“What? Like the Jonas Brothers?”
“Jesus Christ, no! Not like the Jonas Brothers! You have a fever.”
“Ohhh… that makes more sense.” You coughed painfully and Leighton quickly handed you a bottle of water from her mini fridge.
“I will be right back, Stay. Here.” Leighton ordered before rushing out of the room.
You let your head collapse into the pillow and you were asleep again before you even knew it. An unknown amount of time later, Leighton came back into the room wearing a N95 mask, which she removed once the door was closed. Her arms were full of cold and flu supplies that she certainly could not have gone out and purchased due to the storm.
Leighton sat everything down next to the bed and started going through the pile, setting a fresh box of tissues with lotion next to you along with a bottle of electrolyte drink. Then, she sifted through the variety of medications and ultimately decided that just some straight up tylenol and cough medicine would be best.
Leighton was waking you up again and she helped you sit up while you took the medicines and drank a bunch of the electrolyte solution.
“Kimberly’s mom sent her all of this medicine and first aid stuff, it was honestly really impressive. My mom just sent me a Louis Vuitton weekender bag.”
You chuckled lightly, even though it hurt a little to do so, then spoke in a scratchy voice, “both things have their uses.”
Leighton felt your forehead again and then made you lie back down, “I’m quarantining you in here for now, at least until the storm clears. I’ll take care of you here.”
“You’re gonna get sick…” you pointed out.
“Then, you’ll take care of me.”
You furrowed your brows, “well, of course I will, but are you sure? I can just go home,” you made an attempt to sit up but Leighton pushed you right back down.
“Absolutely not. You’re in no state to walk across campus even if it wasn’t a blizzard outside. You’re staying here. End of discussion.”
“But I don’t-”
“Shut up, would you? You’re making me tired just looking at you,” she teased.
Leighton surprised you, then. She was no longer feeling the fever on your forehead for sheer monitoring purposes, but just softly caressing her thumb over your skin and wiping your sweaty hair aside as she did so. It was comforting.
You smiled, “you’re really sweet, thank you.”
Leighton leaned down and kissed your forehead gently and stayed by your side until you were too tired to keep your eyes open any longer and you fell asleep again.
Leighton put her mask back on to protect her roommates from your germs as best as she could then went out into the main area of the suite to let you sleep in peace.
Leighton sat down on the plaid couch in their common room and exhaled a deep breath. She had never really seen herself as a caretaker type, but for some reason, it had come naturally to her when she saw how sick you were.
Bela decided to go hang out in Jocelyn’s room to gossip the snow day away (with the help of cinnamon whiskey and apple cider… but mostly cinnamon whiskey), while Kimberly and Whitney hunkered down in their room.
Leighton scrolled mindlessly through her phone when Whitney came out to grab some food from the shared fridge.
“How’s your guest doing?” Whitney asked.
“Okay, I think.” Leighton answered simply.
“Is this someone we’ve met before?”
“No,” Leighton said, “she’s new as of last night…”
“Wow. You must be really into her, then.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Well, you let her sleep over and now you’re taking care of her while she’s sick? The Leighton Murray of a few weeks ago would never, storm or no storm…” Whitney smiled at the blonde and sat down on the couch opposite her.
Leighton’s cheeks flushed, “I don’t know… she’s cute. Really cute. And being around her has been really easy so far. Plus…”
Whitney raised an eyebrow, “plus…?”
Leighton rolled her eyes and then lowered her voice to a near-whisper, “Plus… she made me come like four times last night… maybe more. I honestly lost count.”
“Oh. My. God.”
“I know.”
“That’s just not fair.”
Leighton smirked and shrugged.
“So you’re taking care of her because the sex was amazing?” Whitney clarified.
“No, not just that. Maybe I do really like her. But like…” Leighton groaned, “I’m so fucking stressed about Tatum and Alicia still… Do I really want to jump right into another relationship?”
Now, Whitney shrugged, “do what makes your heart happy, Leight. If you like her, I say go for it. You never know when someone might be your person.”
Leighton looked over her shoulder at her bedroom door, “huh… yeah, maybe you’re right. I’m gonna go check on her.”
Leighton stood up and Whitney smiled, “I also think you should do whatever you can to bring this nurturing side of you out more often. It’s nice.”
Leighton flashed a glare in Whitney’s direction, “yeah yeah, whatever.”
The blonde slipped back into her room and took a moment to watch you before she climbed into the bed beside you and draped her arm over you.
You were fast asleep and didn’t feel her join you in the bed, but you unconsciously shifted and hugged her arms close to you.
Snow continued to drench the campus and it seemed to muffle all sound.
Leighton fell asleep holding you, lulled only by the steady rise and fall of your breathing.
#leighton murray#leighton x reader#leighton murray x reader#tslocg#the sex lives of college girls#fanfiction#my fanfiction#my writing#original writing#anonymous request#renee rapp
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“Drank In My Cup” by Kirko Bangz for Connie Springer- Comfort + Smut
The lyrics: “Girl I know how much you really want somebody, want somebody that don't really need you” and “That ain't tryin' to love you baby, just fuck you instead” if that’s okay <3
Drank In My Cup
Girl I know how much you really want somebody, want somebody that don't really need you
Pairing: Connie Springer x f!reader
Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Word Count: ~2.1k
cw: friends-to-lovers trope, implied unrequited love, smut - blowjob, cunnilingus, vaginal sex (missionary), creampie, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, pet names.
Summary: Connie has been in love with you since college when you were living next door to each other in the dorms. He’s consoled you through countless of breakups and heard you in all your casual hookups. It hasn’t been easy for him and after graduation, he decides to move overseas in an attempt to get over you, cutting off all contact without explanation. Three years of radio silence later and the two of you finally reunite.
Author’s Notes: Inspired by one of AugustInTheWinter’s Patreon exclusive audios. Honestly, so so good, if you have the ability to do so, subscribe to him, it is so worth the money. Anyways, thanks for this request for the y2k karaoke party! I love this song. Enjoy!
If you told Connie Springer five years ago that you wanted to spend the night, he would have agreed, no question. Today, as he anticipates your arrival, he almost regrets saying yes.
A week ago, you contacted him, asking if you could stay at his place for the weekend while you’re here visiting. He checks the last text you sent him; it was five months ago, wishing him happy birthday. The one before that was exactly a year earlier, another birthday greeting. Your messages were more frequent then, but they gradually faded, probably because Connie never replied to any of them.
He's not trying to be a dick. He’s just too much of a coward to admit that he’s doing his best to get over you. And if that means ignoring you completely, so be it. At what cost, though? Losing his best friend?
This time, he actually does respond to you. Maybe it’s because after three years of being apart, he finally feels ready to face you again. Tonight will be the test. Is this really the best idea for him?
You knock on his front door, weekender bag in hand, heart beating faster, excited to see him. The last time was graduation when he told you that he’d be moving away to Marley for his new job. He didn’t even tell you that he was applying to companies overseas, so of course, you were shocked. Your friendship hasn’t been the same since. You used to be inseparable; now, you’ve never felt further apart.
He greets you politely when he answers the door, that familiar face instantly putting you at ease, despite the distance that’s grown between you. “Hey.”
“Hi, stranger,” you say, hugging him with your free arm. He’s tense when you touch him, not like his usual self. That’s one thing you always loved about Connie; how snugly he would hold you in his arms. It’s already awkward, but you continue to smile at him, hoping that whatever this tension is dissipates soon.
He leads you inside, taking your bag, setting it on the floor by one of the closed rooms. “Do you want a drink?”
“What do you have?” you ask, looking around his apartment, trying to find any remnants of your friendship. Pictures, ticket stubs from all the movies you watched together, all the little trinkets you’d get him as gifts for his birthdays. Nothing, there’s nothing in here. It barely looks decorated at all, except for a few posters he’s crookedly hung up.
“I’ve got water and some White Claws that have been festering in there since I moved here. Pick your poison.”
You laugh, happy to hear this side of him. “I’ll take the water, thanks.” You sit down on the couch, not sure where to start. “How have you been?”
He grabs a clean glass, turning the faucet on until your cup is almost filled to the brim. He carefully hands it to you, sitting as far away from you on the couch as possible. You shift in your seat, facing him, waiting for his answer. “Good. I’m good,” he says, avoiding your gaze, staring at the floor instead.
You take a sip of water, expecting him to elaborate more, but he doesn’t. “Do you like living here? In Marley?”
He shrugs. “It’s okay. There’s not that much more going on here than there is in Paradis.”
“Do you think you’ll ever move back home?”
He crosses his arms over his chest, guarded. “I don’t have any reason to, so probably not.”
“Well, I can think of one reason,” you say. “I miss you.”
His jaw clenches, defenses still up. You scoot closer, wanting this distance to disappear, physically and figuratively. You’ve been waiting for this reunion since he left, since he stopped contacting you almost completely. Wanting to finally make it right with him, the way it should have been ever since you first became close to him in college. You knew he liked you; he was always so obvious about it. And yes, deep down, you liked him too. But you were scared of ruining your friendship, of losing your best friend. You were so used to all your relationships ending in a breakup, you were afraid to cross that line with Connie in fear of losing him forever. When you finally mustered the courage to confess to him on the night of graduation, he told you he’d be moving to Marley for work. Because of your cowardice, you ended losing him anyways. But you won’t let tonight go to waste. You’ll do everything you can to salvage this. Even after all these years of distance between you, you won’t make the same mistakes again.
You close the gap, squeezing next to him on the couch. He glares at you. “What are you doing?”
“I miss you, Connie,” you whine, trying to free his arms from his chest. “Don’t you miss me?”
He shakes his head, relaxing only the slightest bit. “No, I don’t. I’ve worked too hard trying not miss you.”
“What do you mean?”
He finally looks at you, his gaze intense. “I moved because of you. I couldn’t take it anymore, watching you fall in love with every other guy except for me.”
“Connie.”
He unclenches, leaning towards you, face so close you can feel his breath on you as he speaks. “Do you know how hard it was for me? To hear you on the other side of the wall, moaning someone else’s name? And then months later, you’d come crying to me, wanting only my comfort to help you through your breakup. Then the cycle would just repeat over and over, driving me fucking insane because I could never have you for myself. I could only have you when you needed me, when you were heartbroken. Well, it wasn’t fucking fair okay? That’s why I left. I just couldn’t do it anymore.”
You stare back at him, wide-eyed, heart thumping loudly in your chest. Quietly, you say, “I’m sorry, Connie. I…I didn’t know.”
He scoffs at you, rolling his eyes. “Don’t lie to me. Why else would you come to me? You knew I was the only guy stupid enough to always say yes to you. So don’t fucking lie to me now and say that you didn’t know. You knew.”
You swallow hard before asking, “Why didn’t you say something?”
“Why would I? So I can get rejected and ruin our friendship? No. As much as I hated hearing you get fucked on the other side of the wall, I couldn’t stand not having you at all. Pretty fucked up, right?”
You remain still in your seat, unsure how to proceed from this. Eventually, he says, “You can stay here for the weekend, but I think it’s best if we just stop seeing each other after this, okay? It’s better for the both of us if we stop being friends.”
Before he can stand up to leave, you grab his wrist. “Well, good,” you whisper. “I don’t want to be friends anymore either.” You meet his lips with yours for a kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. He melts into you, his tongue slipping inside your mouth, easing into it. Realizing what’s happening, he pushes you off gently, stuttering, “What do you think you’re doing?”
You trail down his neck, sucking on his skin to leave love marks. “What I should have years ago.”
“You’re toying with me,” he whispers, closing his eyes, tipping your chin up to kiss you again. “Teasing me like you did all those times in college.”
“I’m not. I want it. I want you.” You lie back on the couch, spreading your legs for him.
He crawls on top of you, sliding your pants and underwear off simultaneously, dropping them to the floor, salivating at the sight of your glistening cunt, wet with arousal. “Well, too bad. I don’t need you anymore. You won’t get what you want so easily this time. Not after all the torment you put me through. You need a taste of your own medicine first.” He shoves his sweats down, releasing his hard cock from his boxers, stroking it in his fist. With a shaky breath, he whispers, “Come on. Show me how badly you want it.”
You peer up at him, getting on all fours, opening your mouth with your tongue sticking out. He smirks, tracing the outline of your lips with the tip of his dick, smearing his precum on you like gloss. “Fuck, never thought I’d see you like this.” He guides himself inside you, exhaling deeply as he slides all the way to the back of your throat, cursing once more. You give him what he wants, never taking your gaze off him, guzzling down his cock with each thrust he gives you, bobbing your head along his shaft.
“Damn, you feel even better than I imagined,” he moans, bucking his hips. After a couple more deep thrusts, you pull off quickly to catch your breath, wiping away the saliva leaking from your lips. “Hey, are you okay? Are you hurt?” he asks in that concerned tone you love so much. He sounds exactly like he did in college, when he would cradle you gently in his arms as you cried about your latest heartbreak, completely oblivious to how much pain it caused him to see you like this. Connie would never break your heart; it took you too long to finally realize this. And maybe it’s too late to fix the damage that’s been done. But that doesn’t mean you won’t try.
You nod silently, reaching for the coffee table to take a sip of water. He wipes the tears from your eyes, brushing them away with his thumbs. “Are you sure?”
You smile at him, sniffling. “I’m sure, Connie.”
His expression is uncertain again. He doesn’t know whether to stay mad at you or be sweet. He’s always been sweet, and that obviously never worked out for him. If he shows you his mean side, will you stay? Does he even want you to stay?
You surround him again with your mouth, sucking on his cock head with your fist wrapped around his shaft. He closes his eyes, indulging in the pleasure, enjoying it a little too much. He won’t deny it; this has been one of his biggest fantasies since college, to see you like this. To feel you moan around his cock. And as much as he wants to continue spitting hurtful comments to you, make you feel guilty for toying with him all this time, his need to pleasure you overtakes him. His most precious fantasy is to finally hear you moan his name, and no one else’s.
He pulls out of you, jerking off while he tips your chin up to face him. “What do you want, huh? Want my mouth on you? Want me to eat out this pretty pussy? Is that what you want? Because I’ll give it to you, if you let me.” He’s desperate for it now, and so are you. So all you do is nod with your mouth still open, needy for it.
He eats you out sloppily, better than any guy you’ve been with. This is what he wanted, to prove to you that it should have been him all those times. And you regret it, all the useless hookups and casual relationships you put yourself through when you could have been with Connie instead. You come twice from his mouth before you start begging him to fuck you. “Please, baby.”
His eyes widen at the pet name, cock throbbing, ready to burst. “Okay, sweetie,” he huffs, composure wavering. “I’ll fuck you. I’ll give you what you want. I’m always giving you what you want.”
You hold him tightly, moaning his name while he fucks you with your legs wrapped around him. “You’re so good for me, baby. So fucking good for me,” he groans, drilling into you hard and fast. “I missed you so fucking much.” He orgasms with you, unloading his cum inside you, filling you up. You kiss passionately as the both of you come down from your highs, relaxing into each other’s arms.
It’s silent for a moment before you say, “I was going to tell you. On graduation day.”
“Tell me what?” he asks, grazing your lips with his fingers.
“That I liked you, too. And I wanted us to be together.”
He sighs. “But I told you I was moving, so you didn’t go through with it.”
“Yeah.”
He laughs softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Damn, we are really dumb, aren’t we?”
You giggle, nestling your face into his chest, relishing the familiar warmth. “Yeah, we are.”
He rests his chin on the top of your head, massaging your back. “So, should we stop being dumb and finally do this? The right way?”
You nod, smiling. “Yes. Absolutely yes.”
#connie springer#connie springer smut#connie springer x reader#connie springer x you#connie x you#connie x reader smut#connie x reader#connie springer x y/n#connie smut#aot x reader#aot fanfiction#aot smut#attack on titan x reader#attack on titan smut#attack on titan connie#y2k karaoke party#milestone event
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Whiskey. Neat, please.
Simon x Bartender!Afab!Reader
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 |
⚠️tw⚠️ cursing, weird guys. (warming up on this one ::)))
a/n: first time in a while writing something longer. (I, me, my, pronouns.) Bear with me please :) (d'ya get what the title hints at? No? okay.)
Fucking busy night. Christ, should've let Christy take this shift..
I wiped down the bar from whatever other nasty people have been putting their unwashed hands on it before more eventually ruin my efforts. It was barely 11pm and the bar was already fucking packed with men and women determined to forget the rest of their weekend in this dingey place. My boss made me take a shift for someone, and Christy politely offered to take it, and I stupidly declined.
I needed the money, for christs sake.
The speaker surrounding the top of the main drink bar in the middle of the bar started playing too sweet by hoizer, and I hummed softly in approval. I slung the towel over my shoulder, walking back behind the bar to start wiping down some glasses that have been way overdue.
My co-worker, Shelby, bumped my hip with hers. I glance over to her, a what the hell? look on my face. She giggled, and oogled her eyes over to a group of people presumably, but I didnt follow her gaze.
"I fuckin love that we get those.. Military men from time to time.. God, makes me take the night shifts just to feed my eyes," she gave another laugh, before going to pour a glass, noticing my uninterested response.
"Oh come on, girl, you're such a loner, you need to get yourself out there! Don't tell me that old dickwad is still trying to get in your pants again-"
I cut her off, scoffing, "Jesus, Shelby, shut up. I'm not interested in your weird taste in men." *I moved away from her, heading to another full sink. I slid the clean cups to the guys pouring drinks, huffing softly. Jesus, they need to actually staff this place..
I hear a seat slide back, and then shift forward. I tilted my head up, and I'm met with a weirdo, his chin resting on his palm, almost impatiently. I shift my stance taller, giving him a once over. I'm used to picking theses guys out from a crowed, incase he fucks with any girls here.
"Ya need a drink?" I offered, tapping the cup against the counter. He gave a slow, sideways smile under his mask.
"O' course. Made my mouth all dry with that bitter gaze you got on you." The guy snickered, before waving his hand once he noticed my unamused expression. "Kidding. Take a joke, darling."
I scoffed under my breath, and I learned my throat. "Whaddya want, sir?"
"I mean, honestly? You baby.. But drink wise... Maybe a whiskey, on the rocks." He gave me a weird smile. I poured the whiskey, and droped some ice in there, sliding it to him. He drank from it as I cleaned out more glasses, his eyes keen on me.
I tried to shift once more to another side of the bar, but the guy fuckin grabbed me. I pulled back, cursing at him..
And this big ass motherfucker comes out from God knows we're, and sits the guy down. He's got a Skull mask on, and clad with military gear.
"Sit." Was the only word that left his mouth. The guy huffed and pushed him off, cursing things at him. The skull masked guy turned to me, bowing his head slightly. I rolled my eyes hesitantly.
"Okay, Mr. Big ego who need to save poor women. I can handle myself-" The guy huffs to silence me.
"Was jus' helpin' lovie." He sat in the guys old seat, nodding his head towards me. "'M Ghost. Mind gettin' me a drink?"
I let my eyes examine this new guy, before nodding. "Uh.. I.. Yeah. I'll.. Grab you a.. Uh..?" I motioned for him to tell me. He smirked, and shrugged.
"Nothin' wild. I want y'to remember my order." He drummed his fingers for a moment before snapping, like he got some bright idea. "Whiskey. Neat, please."
(not proof read) thank you for reading! I'm working in the other parts, and this one might be longer maybe idk I'm tired.
-a661
#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost x reader#simon ghost x you#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley#ghost call of duty#task force 141#task force x reader
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Hiii ! I saw your req were Opened may I rep Kevin and Kalpas su Elysia( separately ) ( if the is two much you can take out anyone of them <3 ) Turned into little Chibis the can't communicate only cute little squishs while there Lover was task with taking care of them while Mobius and Eden are looking for cure for this mess ? Have a good day :D ( sorry if my grammar was bad )
Pairings : Kevin, Kalpas, Su x reader
Type : hcs
A/n : this sucks and im sry for the wait, anon! I hope you don't mind me leaving Elysia out! :')
KEVIN.
• Spending your day as a babysitter of a chibi version of your boyfriend was not how you expected your weekend to turn out.
• You would be lying if you said you didn't find a chibi Kevin adorable, though if you say that to him he might freeze your finger or bite it.
• While Mobius and Eden were searching for answers to Kevin's sudden change in appearance, you were very much having fun with the chibi version of your boyfriend.
• Oh how funny it was when Kevin struggled to take something off the shelf due to his height, perhaps it was cruel of you but you would slightly laughed at how much he struggled and you would only help him if he approached you.
• Sure you can't really poke Kevin with your finger due to him having the ability to freeze you, that doesn't mean you couldn't tease him about how cute he is!
• At the end of the day, Mobius and Eden found both you and Kevin lying in bed as they placed the cure on your bedside table.
KALPAS.
• You had awoken from your slumber after someone pinching your ear, you were about to glare at Kalpas knowing he would be the only one to annoy you in the morning.
• But instead of seeing the usual grumpy Kalpas, he was much more.. Tinier? Or a much cuter version of the Kalpas you knew.
• Both of you soon found out that Kalpas had accidentally drank one of Mobius's chemicals.
• Of course as much as you tease Kalpas about his new chibi form, he had "accidentally" bit your finger because you kept on squishing his cheeks.
• Kalpas threw a tantrum when he found he had to be stuck in this form for a whole day, which meant teasing from both you and Elysia though due to his small form it was slightly adorable to you how he tried destroying something that was 3x bigger than him.
• Let's just say after 30 minutes of trying to make him go to sleep, he was back to normal to his usual big +(grumpy) form.
SU.
• Out of the three boys, Su is strangely one of the calmer ones when he awoke as a smaller version.
• Unlike Kalpas, he didn't really go berserk over his form though he still was rather confused.
• He didn't mind you using your finger to pet or poke his cheek since he does do that back to you as well.
• He would sneak into your shirt and peek out to observe you which is really cute sobs
• Who is rather sad that he can't talk to you since all that comes out from his mouth is just a squishy noise though he does make it up to you by hugging you or rather you pinkie finger.
• Both of you had fallen in each other arms or rather pinkies in Su's case.
Tysm for reading! Likes, reblogs and follows are always appreciated! :)
#honkai impact x reader#honkai impact#honkai x reader#mobius honkai#honkaimpact3rd#hi3#hi3 x reader#honkai#kevin kaslana x reader#kevin kaslana#kevin x reader#honkai kevin#kevin#kalpas#honkai kalpas#kalpas x reader#honkai su#su x reader#su honkai impact#su
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The next day. While Saiwa still tries to convince Jack that it's not possible to throw Greg in the dungeons of the castle without proper evidence and investigations, they suddenly heard an alarm going off ö.ö
Jeb: "Jack, Kiyoshi - quick! Let's get out of here!"
It wasn't hard to locate the source of the noise, it came from their TTT (Teleporting TukTuk)! They turned the alarm off. Despite the lock on its wheel, it must have moved out of the garage by itself.
Saiwa: "But why the alarm?" Vlad checked his calendar: "Erm, I guess over Jack's death, we've forgotten that it's Summer Solstice today..." Saiwa: "What? Already one and a half month have passed since then?" Time flies! And they'd already forgotten Beltane, the last festival in the wheel of the year... Today is the beginning of summer and the longest day of the year. Until Winter Solstice on December 21, the days are getting shorter again from tomorrow on.
Jack: "Maybe it wants us to board and it'll take us somewhere, like last time at Beltane when we found ourselves at Tartosa..." And so they squeezed themselves into the tiny teleporting TukTuk... Puppy Jack is already excited, as always: "I wonder where we are going this time!"
The TTT ported them away from Tomarang through the Otherworld... Well, this place looks familiar. It's Henford! Where Sai, Jack, Vlad and Ji Ho had spent their first weekend trip together almost two years ago! And where Jeb showed up and we saw his face for the first time (that was before he joined them).
But it's also the place where Jack's Heidi nightmare took place. Which lead to his breakdown - and his breakup with Kiyoshi... and the beginning of his pain. Saiwa: "Are you ok, Jack? Come, let's leave again." Jack: "What? No! It's Summer Solstice! We should celebrate. I'm fine. We deserve a little time out. Remember? The old Jack is dead and the new, better Jack is going to prosper!" Sometimes Saiwa wishes he had a tiny bit of Jack's optimism. How can he be so positive to be able to vercome his hardships after he wanted to throw Greg in the dungeons just a few minutes ago? Saiwa sighed. (This actually happened to me a few years ago. I had been working so hard on myself to overcome my hardships and prosper. I'd thought I'd come so far already and I had been utterly sure I'd made huge steps. But then something happened that showed me I wasn't as stable as I thought I was and it threw me back so far omg. Let's hope Jack will do better than me - with a little help of his friends.)
Also, Jack never forgot that Vlad wanted to come back to Henford with Ji Ho. That had been one of his last wishes before he died (after he drank Ji Ho's poisonous blood to claim him back from Genji...) So leaving is not an option for Jack. Everything happens for a reason.
Sai was not completely convinced that Jack is really ok but the show must go on: "Well then - let's change into something comfortable and hope that TTT brought some stuff with him."
And since they are in the Otherworld and the TTT is a magical vehicle, there was actually a lot the tiny TukTuk brought with him - and to set up :3 There is even a tent that looks like Barfolomews holy Star Wars tent Jack had destroyed on their weekend trip (Ji Ho worked at the Diner de los Muertos to pay for the repair - where he met Luci...) Of course Vlad and Jack will sleep in the Star Wars tent. And Kiyoshi and Jeb will share a tent (Kiyoshi is still not back to his old self since he came back after spending decades in the tree / becoming a diety) and Saiwa and Ji Ho the other. Even the Little Goats joined them!
Saiwa is worried about Jack, no matter how much he claims to be ok. Jack is Saiwa's oldest friend, he'll talk to him later when everything is set up and the goats and the Boys are fed.
And while the others set up the tents and stuff, Jeb prepared the meals. The sun was just setting when they started to eat. What a wonderful world. They deserve a peaceful festival after all they went through.
'I see skies of blue and clouds of white The bright blessed day the dark sacred night And I think to myself what a wonderful world
The colors of the rainbow so pretty in the sky Are also on the faces of people going by I see friends shaking hands saying, "How do you do?" They're really saying I love you'
Louis Armstrong - What a wonderful World
The way Sai looks at Jeb when he looks in another direction <3
And then his face fell when he looked back at Jack.
When they finished their meal, Sai and walked a bit together. Just until they saw the Mansion from afar. Greg had brought toddler Jack to the Mansion after he rescued him from the Lab and he grew up here with 'Uncle' Stefan (Stefan is not his real Uncle). And here also the worst part of his Heidi Nightmare took place... Saiwa: "Let's leave, we'll find another place, hm?"
Jack: "I won't run away anymore. I've come so far and my pain is almost gone. Maybe I died ingame so I can prove that the therapy works? That I can carry over what I've learned ingame to my real life? It will be painful and hard. And I miss Lou so much. But it will be worth it in the end. I'll start a new life. You will help me, won't you? Push me when I fall back in my old, crazy habits." Sai: "Of course I will help you. I'm just not sure if I can push you. I'm worried you're going too fast."
But then a Summer Solstice Wonder happened! A flock of cute birds were flying in circles around Jack! With sparkles and singing and everything! As if they wanted to reassure him that he's on the right path! Jack: "What? ... See?!" Saiwa: "How did you do that? You are really something else ^^'"
Sai: "I hope I can find a kind of balance between pushing you and keeping you safe. But I'm always there for you. Just talk to me, hm? And we still have Vlad." Jack: "Promised. I love you." Saiwa sighed but he said it anyway: "I know." (Saiwa is not much into Star Wars, that's more a Jack/Vlad thing. But he knows it makes Jack happy when he answers with 'I know' ^^')
to be continued...
The Boys had quite the event on last year's Summer Solstice ö.ö Let's hope this year's is quieter.
The Therapy Game Master Post with the sessions and places so far is -> here
From the Beginning ~ Underwater Love ~ Latest Current Chapter: 'Who killed Jack?' from the beginning ▶️ here Last Chapter: 🕹️ 'The One' from the beginning ▶️ here 📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 17-22 ~ 23-28
#who killed jack#therapy game#the one#whiteboard#TTT#underwater love#vlad tepesz#Summer Solstice 2024#the campsite#puppy strategy#saiwa#giga byte#jack callahan#woo ji ho#jeb harris#kiyoshi ito#henford on bagley#tiny can#TUPD#tomarang#the happy home#morensong#simlit#ts4 gameplay#sims gameplay#sims 4 story#sims storytelling#storytelling#sims 4 vanilla
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hyped for claude story, just from the little blurb and ur tags it looks like its gonna be hysterical
I'm gonna be real man. Is there tight plot? No. Is there anything other than dialogue? Of course not. Is it fast paced? You don't even need to ask. But it is the unwilling recipient of months of my insanity, and for that purpose I admire its resilience. It works because it is also the story of one boy slowly descending into absolute insanity.
I think people sometimes think of Claude as the comic relief and 'only sane man' in the leaders. This is untrue. He's fucking nuts. Imagine if a Japanese-American read a lot of websites on Japan and decided to move to Japan, pretend he was fully Japanese despite obviously being half-White, had been there the entire time, and became Emperor of Japan. He's living his best Dancing With Wolves life. My first decision of the story was that Claude probably didn't call himself his white people name/alias in his head, and that ended up changing a lot. I think if you take a different perspective of him, and decide to understand him a certain way, he becomes absolutely the most bugfuck and interesting character in FE3H.
All three House leaders pretend to be good people and, in fact, are actually pretty shitty people (except for Yuri, who pretends to be a bad person and is an actual angel). Claude is selfish, self-centered, and apathetic. Claude here is actually worse than in canon - for actual reasons that will become clear around 75k into the story. Weekenders was about somebody who saved lives but doomed souls; Rosetta Headstone is about somebody who saved souls but doomed themselves. I think the ending of both stories reflects that.
Anyway, meanwhile Byleth is living her New Game+ and she is killing it.
Also, transcript of that text under the cut - it's a bit long for alt text.
Byleth walked through the door. The bucket of water fell on her head. She had been absolutely drenched.
Byleth had blinked at them, water dripping in rivulets across her hair. Most of the class was laughing their ass off, even Khalid. An absolutely atrocious first impression on their teacher, but the students had successfully won dominance. They had driven away their first teacher in tears and they could do the same to this one. Every student in the class either hated to work (Hilda and Marianne, for surprisingly identical reasons), hated being told what to do (Leonie, Lorenz, Lysithea), or went along with the rest (Ignatz and Raphael). There had been no intention of bowing down to an authority figure. What were they, the Blue Lions? Bootlickers?
“Is there a leak?” Byleth asked.
The laughter died. Everybody stared at Byleth. Byleth tilted her head.
Slow, tremulous, Ignatz pointed at the bucket. Byleth looked down, squinting.
“Oh. Why was that there?”
Straight faced, Hilda said, “Maybe the custodian left it.”
“Okay.” Byleth had walked forward, taking her place in the front of class. She bowed, a little stiff and awkward. “Hello. I’m your teacher. Please treat me well.” She looked up, eyes crinkling faintly in what Khalid would come to recognize as her edition of a smile. “I’m happy to be here.”
The tone was set. Byleth was unflappable.
Salt in her coffee? She drank it all without flinching. Hidden alarm clock set to ring during class? She found it instantly. Frogs labeled 1, 2, and 4 in the classroom? Byleth sadly noted that 3 must have been eaten by a hawk, and she spent the rest of the class delighting over her shiny new frogs. Watching her feed the frogs little worms was adorable. It was so cute that the pranks stopped. Nobody could stomach it anymore. She was too innocent.
Khalid, famous for his honest, straightforward, and upfront nature, hated liars. And Professor Byleth was stinking of deceit. Nobody was that adorable. She had a plot and he would sniff it out.
#yes the premise is 'what if byleth was new game+ and claude was xenophobic'#cinema.#my writing#my asks#there's a moment in weekenders where byleth prays with all of her heart for a second chance#for a world where she was able to save everybody#headstone!byleth's only goal is to create that world where everyone is saved#it is possible that Headstone!Byleth is that second chance#which of course will always be funny considering their POLAR opposite personalities#but saving them all is impossible in FE3H. it always will be. it's a world where you can't save everybody.#story's about that.#rosetta headstone actually has a big relationship with weekenders#in the exact same way that GD has a relationship with BL#obviously. bc weekenders was my exp playing BL and headstone was my experience playing GD#hype.
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haha i got drunk and wrote like 2,000 words about my experience with learning japanese. read it sober and just sat in front of my computer like 😐
you know when old people talk a lot and sometimes its hard to tell if they’re trying to pass on wisdom or are just kind of full of themselves and want to talk about themselves? what i wrote was definitely the latter. i’m just an おじいさん who wants to drink and smoke and talk about myself and my hard work lol
one of my favorite 居酒屋 to visit on my way home from work is closing for good this weekend. its open 24/7 so it was always great for stopping by after drinking at the bar until morning. their squid and shrimp 串カツ are soooo good. i’m actually here now typing this on my phone. this izakaya is in a basement so i don’t have signal. i just end up scrolling through my photos or blogging in my notes while sitting here alone for an hour until my favorite bar opens at 7.
the last time i came here a server ive become acquainted with hit on me, and i didn’t pick up on it at all, so my reaction was kind of dull. i only realized he was hitting on me when he turned around and all the other servers were laughing at him bc they were all eavesdropping. he probably mentioned he was gonna do it beforehand haha. i’m so sorry. i would be totally down to grab drinks if i realized sooner 😂
he always makes me turn around and show him my backpiece when im wearing tanktops and croptops. and hes always basically yelling カッコいい!!its cute how not normal tattoos are here. i would never get these reactions in america but sometimes it can be annoying. yes yes i have a lot of tattoos. yes. expensive. yes painful. and then they find out about my scarification, which honestly most people in the states have also never seen, so then its a weird balance of explaining my love for body modification and not self mutilation.
money has gotten TIGHT lately. im literally courting my ex and bringing him to izakayas and nice restaurants every week and im going broke from it so i gotta stop hahaha. we did have a really good time last night, though. and hes always really grateful and respectful when im paying. he also initiated a lot of kisses and kept kissing my cheeks last night which was weird and not like him at all. im not gonna think about it anymore tho.
i am super excited about where we’re going on saturday. its an 青森県 restaurant and i guess they get fish delivered daily from there, so i hope its super fresh and tasty 😤. i unfortunately booked too late and couldnt get a private room, but i think sitting at the counter will be nice since we’re doing the all-you-can-drink course and itll be faster to get our drinks if we’re not in a secluded room.
my go-to drink for the past 2 years living here has always been highballs, but lately theyre way too strong for me. ive become obsessed with lemon sours, but because its not whiskey in them like highballs i become drunk super super fast. good for cost performance purposes but dangerous since im used to my highball drinking pace. i usually dont black out if i only drink for 2-3 hours on a work night but the other day i drank my usual amount, just this time they were lemon sours and not highballs. i was on the verge of blacking out returning home at only 9pm on a monday 😂
i can’t stop thinking about the guy who asked me to be his girlfriend two weeks ago. he’s american and he’s nice enough, but he’s been living in japan for over a year and cant even say すみません to get a server’s attention. he also doesnt eat meat, so i cant introduce him to yakiniku and yakitori which are my go-to. everytime we hungout i had to translate everything and guide him around tokyo. i brought him to an izakaya for his first time and had to teach him the words for squid and octopus. which he promptly forgot 2 minutes later. its literally taco and ika!!! we got lost in a department store one time and i had to ask for directions while he just stood there. it always felt like i was with a child who knew nothing when we were together. as friends, im more than happy to introduce tokyo and translate. but as someone who was obviously trying to be appealing to me, it was honestly a massive ick. i have no preference when it comes to what ethnicity or cultural background someone is, but i cant date someone who knows less about japan than me. it was a good realization actually! i always say i dont have a type, but i think im slowly starting to realize my type. he doesnt have friends so he would always say “lets go out and explore tokyo together!”dude i have been experiencing tokyo for 2 years. i have my favourite spots and my favourite neighborhoods and i know how to find good restaurants and i regularly go out and just do shit by myself because i can navigate it by myself. he also was expecting me to teach him japanese which was just soooo….
when you get to a level where you’ve lived somewhere long enough and can speak the language a lot of people expect you to be a free tour guide. when it comes to strictly friends with no expectation of me, im more than happy to plan a day of sightseeing and introductions but sometimes when i make friends with foreigners it feels like that’s all they want out of me. i mean it goes both ways. a lot of japanese men just view me as a fetish object. omg a white girl who i can actually speak to!!! maybe she can teach me english!!! ive never fucked a 6 foot tall white girl with tattoos!!!
for my established friends, i happily translate stuff for them and give them english lessons but man it feels like theres a lot of expectations of me meeting people here. from foreigners and native japanese people.
i have a lot of foreign friends who have lived here longer than me and dont speak a lick of japanese and dont have any plans on learning. i dont really feel one way or the other about it. theyve been here long enough and know they can get around and have fun without knowing the language. i cant imagine how tough that is sometimes so more power to them. but its always the people complaining they want to learn and want to understand and communicate but still for some reason just dont sit down and study or make an effort to make japanese friends so they can atleast pick up conversational japanese that i dont understand. why are you not studying???? sure its hard but just do it??? you dont even have to use textbooks. apps kind of suck once you get past the basics but its at least something you can do while riding the train and then atleast i wouldnt have to order for you at the bar after youve been living here for several months!!!
im a princess and a brat and am obsessive so studying is super easy for me. i studying during my lunch breaks and anytime im riding the train. i understand thats not the case for everyone, so i try to take the time to teach my friends who want to learn japanese important phrases for day to day life. maybe textbooks and studying isnt their thing, which is fine. okay i’ll teach you as we go. but even then they dont retain anything 😂 dont complain to me about not being able to speak japanese if you’re not going to put in a little bit of effort to atleast order a beer by yourself!!!! and if youre over thinking the difference between ください and お願いします before you can even say [名前]と申します, youre thinking too much!!!!! japanese is hard. theres a lot of info. if you start getting into super specific japanese before you can do self introductions, its gonna be a long long road. so im super happy i learned japanese in america where i went textbook step by step instead of being surrounded by confusing japanese all day long. when i try to teach my friends japanese they always somehow ask me about n2 grammar. and its just like. stop. ignore that. that does NOT have anything to do with you at this time. i was N2 before N3 grammar even made sense to me (i did get full points on n3 test despite none of it making sense to me though 😂) because i finally had context for it and could make the connections. without those building blocks and going step by step id be lost. and thats why you should study the language before coming to a foreign country.
god im judgmental.
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A new path pt 2
Warnings: none
It is the weekend now. I meet Queen Ravenna, Andromache, and Lorraine. I head to the modern looking castle in the middle opposite the storians Tower. I enter the castle and see all three of my new teachers there.
“Y/n?”
“Yes?”
“I’m Lorraine Broughton, but please call me Lorraine.”
“I’m Andromache, but you can call me Andy,”
“You’re majesty,”
“Please call me Ravenna,”
“As you wish, it’s a pleasure to meet you all,”
~~~~
They take me on a tour of the castle showing me the training rooms, classrooms, bedrooms etc.
~~
As time when on when I was at the other school I never slept in a bed. I constantly fell asleep in the library doing homework, history work from Ravenna or doing skills reading or techniques reading on how to kill and on stealth from Andy and Lorraine.
~~
I finally got my finger glow which glowed a bright purple. I now had more magic, immortality and knew more ways to kills someone that someone should know.
~~~ holidays
“Lady Lesso what’s the date today?”
“September 10th”
“Three days till my birthday” I mutter under my breath. I would be spending it alone and doing work
~~~~
Today was my birthday. I wake up from my sleep and my history books. I go to the bathroom and magic up a suit. Have a shower and change. I had history first. I do my makeup and hair before going back to the library.
Once I had arrived, I saw a note
All classes are cancelled for the day, but go to the garden at midday
So go back to my homework. For three hours, I sit there. I decide to take a break and go train. I use magic to change my suit to exercise clothes. I grab a gun and extra rounds and do some target practice then some practice in hand-to-hand combat with headphones in listening to ‘say your prayers’ by Blithe and more. I finally take a break and see the time nearing midday.
I head to the shower using magic to dry myself and put on the suit I had on earlier the green one which thinking about it? Looks like Lady Lesso’s in another colour and then magic a full face of makeup.
Being five minutes till midday, I head to the garden wondering two things who wrote the note and why I had to go to the garden. I arrive at the garden at exactly 12. I see lady Lasso standing there.
“Oh good you got my note,” she says
“Yes, I did. Is there anything wrong?”
“No, I just wanted to catch up with you to see how you’re going. Come let's take a walk,” I can’t really say no not like I would anyway. We walk.
“So how are things at the other school?”
“Alright lots of work to be done,” I reply
“Which teacher have you stayed with?”
“Umm, none,”
“ None? Why is something wrong?,”
“No nothing wrong. They’re all lovely. I’m just constantly falling asleep in the library whilst doing homework.”
“Y/n that’s not good. You need proper rest.”
“Well when you’re attending three schools at once with 3 to 5 subjects from each spending only weekends at one during the term there’s a lot to get done,”
“Oh y/n,” we arrive at the centre of the garden. I see a picnic.
“What’s this?,” I ask
“It’s for you,” Andy’s voice says from behind me. I turn to face.
“We know what today is darling we didn’t want you spending it alone and not celebrate it happy birthday y/n,” Ravenna says
All of a sudden, all of the teachers appear in a circle around me.
“ happy birthday,” they all say sweetly they sit sweetly
“I-uh-I, thank you so much this means a lot to me,”
We sat down ate, drank, talked laughed and played games. I grew closer with all the teachers though my favourites are still Lesso, Ravenna, Lorraine and Andy.
“Hey y/n can you come here for a second?” Lorraine asks
“Of course,” I walk over to her “what’s up?”
“I wanted to give you this,” she says handing me a small box. I open it and see an exact replica of her black gun. I smile.
“Thank you so much Raine, this means the world,” I say, as I check the bullets. I put the clip back in looking at her with a smile. I took the gun into the waistband of my pants covering it with the suit jacket. I give her a massive hug which she returns. We walk back over to the teachers.
I get pulled over by Lesso me hands me a box
“Lesso…”
“I know what you’re about to say just open it,” she says and I do. Inside are the most stunning pair of heels. Black of course with swords on the heel.
“Lesso, they’re beautiful,” I quickly change out of my heels putting the new ones on. “They’re perfect thank you.,”
She gives me a hug, which I return knowing that she will probably never do it again. I teleport my other shoes to my room
Eventually Andy pulls me aside handing me a large metal box. I open it. Inside is a beautiful sword with a beautifully detailed handle. Underneath the sword is a battleaxe.
“Andy they’re beautiful,”
“I’m glad you like it. I made them specially for you.”
“Oh Andy that makes them even more special. I will treasure them forever thank you.” I say I teleport the box to the library with a padlock on it. She gives me a hug.
I’m so grateful to all of the teachers for making this day one of the best since I arrived here. The sun starts to so we begin to pack everything up before it’s completely dark. As we do so Lesso comes up to me.
“We’re having an after party at the other school only me you Ravenna, Andy and Lorraine,” she whispers to me and I nod with a smile
We all had back to our respective schools after I thank them all.
“Y/n dear can you come with me?” I nod “Will be back in five” We walk to her room
“I have something for you,”
“Ravenna, you didn’t have to…”
“I know sweetheart, but I wanted to.” She says handing me a box. I sigh knowing she wasn’t going to listen. I open it and see a silver crown with diamonds.
It was stunning. I put the box down before jumping into Ravenna tears fill my eyes.
“Raven, you, this is too much. It’s beautiful.” I mumble into her shoulder as she wraps her arms around my waist.
“Nothing is too much for you darling. Do you like it?”
“Like it Raven I love it. And I’m only wearing it on special occasions.”
We head back to the others. As we sit and drink playing games, let out of yawn.
“Come here, darling,” Raven says. She pulls me into her, so I’m sitting in her lap my head against her shoulder. For the first time in a long time I fall asleep feeling okay about my situation
#queen ravenna x reader#lady lesso x reader#charlize theron x reader#andromache the scythian x reader#andromache x reader#lorrainebroughton
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//ooc: tldr i made a little writing that kinda like, explains further a hc i have?
i think that solomon has an alcoholic addiction, and since addictions can be hereditary, i think steph would also have a big drinking problem too
but, yk imma deep dive into her first drink
tw: alcohol, drinking, being drunk all in all
——————————————���——————————
[How old is the age people start drinking? Most people would say 21. If you were rebellious, maybe 18-19. But Stephanie Lauter’s first ever experience with alcohol was at the sweet age of 16.]
[At 16, what keeps most people busy is school work, work-work, and a lot of work in general. Steph did just that. Teachers used to say she’s diligent. Classmates called her fun. What they didn’t know was that just over a simple weekend, about everything changed.]
[Of course Steph knew her father had an alcohol problem. It’s one of the many traits her mother tried to help him rid. It did work. Only for a little bit, up until they lost her. Solomon fell back into his old habits hard and was often a mess. Underneath his remarkably clean public image was an alcoholic father.]
[Well, can you even call him a father if the one person who took care of his kid was a maid?]
[One evening on a cold winter’s day, Steph was extremely down. Something about the weather, her emotions, and schoolwork had just been too much. Like any reasonable person, instead of asking for help, she immediately looked for a distraction. Sure, being on her phone worked but.. it’s not quite enough.]
[Wandering around her big house was certainly a treat. Her dad is out for more campaign rallies and good PR, which leaves Steph all to herself. Least, she should be. She wandered around both floors, checking to see if any of the housekeepers were there. She then realized that he was going to use the staff as another PR stunt.]
[Perfect.]
[Rushing to her dad’s office, Steph decides to do what her Solomon said she does best. Ruin absolutely everything. Spinning is his office chair, she sweeps everything cluttered on the desk onto the floor with her arm. She enacts her usual routine when her dad’s away from home: Find a pen, a few pieces of paper, scribble a bunch of shit all over it, and plaster the papers all over the inside of his office.]
[There was already a nice pen on his desk she missed to sweep off, so the girl quickly snatched that as she checked the drawers. Few legal documents here and there, a checkbook, random belongings. Steph finally found a large notepad in the very bottom drawer. Taking the notepad out, a slim key fell out between some pages. Must’ve been hidden there.]
[Grabbing the key, Steph stared at it. There’s not a lot of places that her dad uses a key for, let alone hide it She takes the key, slipping the notepad back in as she looked around to find a lock.]
[In the house, Solomon’s office was simple. His desk was towards the back, right in front of a middle. The left side of the room held a bookshelf while the right side had a cabinet wall. And damn, were there a lot of them.]
[Steph snooped around the desk, but to no avail. Of course the girl knew what she was doing was wrong. But did she care? Not one bit. If he won’t properly take care and pay any attention to her, why should she follow? The only thing that would happen is he’d ignore her more.]
[Walking to the wall cabinets, she opened up a few bottom ones, before hitting one that was locked. Checking the keyhole, the girl found that the key perfectly fit. When Steph inserted the key and opened the lock, the few things inside the locked cabinet shocked her.]
[A half drunken bottle of whiskey and 3 glasses, all neatly together on one shelf. Steph’s not surprised by the bottle, he drank ever since she was born. But 3 glasses? Who the fuck was he inviting to drink with him? Nonetheless, she took the whiskey and one glass, sitting on his chair.]
[The idea of drinking always intrigued Stephanie. After all, if her dad and Max can drink like nothing, why can’t she? Although with Max, by the end of it, he’s passed out on the floor a few hours later. Steph simply took off the cork with one hand and poured the glass half full with the other. With her eyes closed and the door locked, she downed the whiskey, drinking it quick before putting the glass down.]
“Agh- oh shit, oh fuck!”
[The taste of the whiskey was virtually nothing, as a burning sensation went down her throat. She checked the bottle to read the label.]
“40% ABV? A- agh, cedar wood flavor? Jesus, this is.. a lot.”
[Continuining to cough after she drank it, Steph stopped and took one more look at the bottle. The feeling of the whiskey down her throat, and whatever was in it, made her want more. It’s gross, she knows she shouldn’t. She wouldn’t.]
[/Right?/]
[She grabbed the bottle again, and poured even more into her glass. She kept on drinking and drinking, even using the two other glasses in the cabinet. The more Steph drank, the more she craved it. It had her on such a high, but at what cost?]
[It was now fully empty. She shook the bottle upside down before twisting the cap back on and putting all the glasses back in his cabinet. Her head is aching, and her body feels like jelly. Everything feels so, /so/ fucking weird.]
[Steph waddled out of her dad’s office, stumbling over the chair and almost tripping on the doorway. The floor was cold, she can feel it in her socks. The air was warmer outside than in the office, and she wandered out into the hallway. Looking up at the stairs, she shakily got up each step.]
[Each time she lifted her foot, it felt like a weight was attached onto each leg. Pulling herself up was difficult, especially with the hazy feeling that Steph was in. She got to room, and collapsed at the foot her bed.]
“/Fuck…/“
[Stephanie Lauter was on the floor, her head about to float away somewhere and her body like jelly. This feeling was so- so weird. This, alongside her atrocious hangover was a sign that she should’ve stopped. Well, would’ve stopped.]
[But she couldn’t stop herself after that.]
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this was the new york city weekend:
cold and bright on friday and i overslept on account of waking up next to the man i love and cherishing the feeling as if it has not happened hundreds of times before and over lunch i went to bushwick to pick up a chair that didn’t work and the super was drilling in the courtyard so loud it made my room shake and when i logged off i got dressed in my one hundred and one dalmatians overalls, stolen from my sister’s closet, and i went to the whitney solo and i cried at the puerto rican art exhibit thinking about my home languishing so far away and so mad at the white people not understanding and making crass jokes and the tour guide who acted like it is a third world country and everyone is waiting to be saved and i took in the gorgeous gorgeous lights of this beautiful place i live in from the top deck and i walked back to my train and i ran back to my home and changed and met my father and my uncles and my cousin for late late dinner on the upper east side and the old fashioned burned my throat all the way down and my sandwich fell apart in my hands and my dad called me an uber by 11:55 and when i got home the man i love came home too.
then saturday was dreary rainy gray cold all day and it was so hard to get up off the bed but i did and i picked up my laundry and i got us two coffees (cold brew and a double espresso) and two donuts (white frosting and sour cream) and we laughed so hard for hours and watched law and order as if nothing had ever been so enthralling and when we arose at 4pm i began to schlep to manhattan to meet my father and uncles for dinner and i had to stop and buy a hat because my bangs were soaked through and when i found out they were going to a seafood boil restaurant and my allergies precluded me from going there i went to jack’s wife freda like a normie on my own and sat at the dim bar and ate two overpriced eggs and drank two drinks and in the bathroom they played françoise hardy and i went to the met to kill the time and when i was there in the spanish courtyard on the first floor who did i see on the second floor balcony but the man i love and overwhelmed with the joy of coincidence, of finding someone in a city of eight million i was going to let the moment soak in and not say anything and then he yelled my name from above but i was listening to music and i couldn’t hear and two rooms later he sends me a message and when i look up there he is! with his friend and he is wearing the jacket i got him for christmas and he introduces us and his friend is about to leave so he asks me if i want to stay there with him but my father is about to arrive and i have to go and we go to first avenue and get drunk at an old person diner and when i get home the man i love asks if he can come meet me and of course he can.
then magnificent sunday the first real day of spring everyone is in shorts i urge him to leave the bed before his sunday scaries take hold and we plan to get a pre brunch before our actual brunch but both places are full but oh, miracle, we walk to the other end of our neighborhood and we grab an outdoor table at a wonderful restaurant and we sit in the blinding sun and my duck confit is perfectly cooked and we share a cup of coffee because suddenly we are both broke and we walk to his place because he is in too many layers for such a beautiful day and i try to convince him to wear shorts but none of his shoes match and we decide to walk all the way down to prospect park, a beautiful 3 miles in the sunshine, and it feels like everyone is finally out like everyone has awoken from the mild winter and realized life in community is better than any other life and on the steps of the public library life feels so worth living and we sit on a bench and i lay my head on his shoulder and watch the buds on the trees shake and everyone around us bask in joy and i am scared a mole on my leg may be skin cancer and we sit on my (his) jacket on the lawn and listen to whale sounds and start walking back home and i have to lie to a restaurant server to use the bathroom and on the thirty minute ride home i sleep on him and when we are back in our neighborhood we get the first good chinese food we have had in a month and he asks if i will go home with him and watch him play video games and i say no but not because i don’t want to because of course i want to eat up all the time i can possibly get with him i want it forever but because i am being better about not canceling every plan whenever i am presented with the opportunity to be with him and my roommates and i want to watch succession so we do and i eat terrible snacks and i keep falling asleep because i am exhausted from a beautiful weekend and when my head hits my pillow i am out in a second. and it was all so good.
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idk what to ask so just… tell me whatever you want about your ocs
ooh i get to ramble about them :DD
ok so i basically have a bunch of different ocs who are all part of different stories n stuff so here's just some whose lives actually connect but have no real overarching story
⚠️ first off: there's some kinda heavy topics here that are listed before each character as well as in the tags, so please don't read if you're uncomfortable with them ⚠️
leviathan (levi)
tw: verbal abuse, transphobia
tw: verbal/physical abuse, sa
my most recent doodle dump had a character named levi, but he's actually a really old character who i made like 3 years ago. his name was originally gerard but i changed it to leviathan but he just goes by levi for short. his parents are divorced, and his sister lives with his dad while he lives with his mom. his dad sucks and is pretty verbally abusive toward levi, going as far as being openly transphobic around him (levi is trans), but his mom is much nicer. she's not the greatest mom, but she genuinely tries her best and really cares about levi. his sister, beatrice, is quite a bit younger than levi (he's 17 and she's like 8 or something) and i haven't developed her very far but she loves the muppets so i automatically love her. every other weekend levi has to stay with his dad while beatrice stays with her mom, which levi absolutely hates. he doesn't get to see bea very often, but they get along really well when they do get to see each other. oh he also plays the bass guitar and writes his own basslines in his room instead of actually making human interaction with his mom
charles
levi has a huge crush on his friend charles (haven't posted any drawings of him yet cuz i cannot get his hair right), who i created around the same time as levi. charles has had so much go wrong in his life and his friends are basically his only support system. his mother is an absolute piece of shit, first off. she's both verbally and physically abusive to both charles and his father (who died when he was about 10). she also refused to believe him when he told her about the sa he faced, even when given clear evidence. more has happened over the course of his 17 years of life, but i'm not gonna get into that quite right now. (mostly cuz i haven't fleshed all of it out yet but i have some general ideas)
like i mentioned earlier, levi likes charles. well charles also likes him but the two idiots are too oblivious to see it lol. the two of them just can't wrap their heads around the fact that there's even a possibility the other could like them, so who knows if anything's gonna happen with them (oh something will)
despite being a bit of a fantasy character mixed with all these more realistic characters, she's still part of this little wacky friend group and i love her
avalon
ok let's stray from the kinda depressing backstories for a moment to talk about one of my favorite ocs, avalon :)
sonya is only actually home about 5% of the time. she spends most of her time at avalon's house, or at her best friend ramona's house. she hates both of her parents and her brother's never home either, so she just chooses to wander. sonya isn't really a law abiding citizen, but she doesn't care. she's the friend who your parents think is the sweetest kid who you should invite over every day, but is actually the exact opposite when she's not around them. she started driving before she got her license, she's probably drank alcohol before, she dyes her hair both without her parents permission and directly in their bathtub (must be a pleasure coming home and finding the bathtub completely blue), and she plays her electric guitar at 1am with every setting on the amp turned up all the way. she's not the type of person you'd expect avalon to date, but the two just kinda click. they balance each other out nicely and they're really the only two people who've understood each other.
avalon is an elf girl who's dating another one of my ocs, sonya (i'll get to her later). i don't really have much about her backstory planned, but i wanted to talk about her anyway lol. she's mute, and has been since she was 13 (she's 16 now). because of this, she finds it hard to communicate with other people and tends to feel a bit like she's being ignored, but sonya always makes sure she's understood. she has an older sister, willow, who's very protective of avalon's safety. her parents, florian and rosa, are also pretty protective and try to make sure avalon stays out of trouble. because she's been safeguarded her whole life, she finds it hard sometimes to do things out in the world, and her mutism doesn't make it easier either. but she tries her best and finds new ways to do things almost every day. she usually just spends her time reading, baking apple pie, or kissing sonya though.
sonya
there are more ocs that i'd love to ramble about but i'm almost done my raccoon puzzle so if you have any more questions feel free to ask them!!
ramona
ramona is a bit similar to sonya in the sense that she's completely different around people other than her close friends. everyone perceives her as pretty much a "little miss perfect". she's in student council, she volunteers places, blah blah blah. in reality, she's fucking unhinged and will do anything in her power to bother her friends. it's just how she shows affection i suppose
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I went to a DDR Tournament (aka: Post-MOTL4 Thoughts)
As the title suggests, I went to a DDR Tournament in Mentor, Ohio this past weekend called Mistake on the Lake 4. Below are my thoughts on the event, focused primarily on my performance at said event:
First off, the reason I’m posting it here instead of something such as twitter, or facebook, or discord or something is because I feel like I can be honest with myself about how I played without feeling a sense of being around (for lack of better term) toxic positivity. It’s not that I don’t think the community means well, and there is a very reasonable chance that I’m putting too much pressure on myself even now, but the last thing I want to hear right now is “you have one leg, it’s okay” or “you weren’t feeling well” or “it’s been a long time” or any kind of justification like that. Those are valid reasons to not play well, but I feel like it takes a lot of the responsibility off of me. The fact is this: I sucked. I performed worse at that tournament than I ever have at any other tournament in my time playing competitively (2004 - 2010, 2018 - 2020.) and there’s some very legitimate reasons why that are just entirely on me. 1. Since the COVID mandates have been relaxed (if not lifted entirely), I haven’t played all that much. I have not put in the time that I should have. I didn’t give the tournament and the competition the respect that it deserved. I even had the audacity to honestly think that I should have been rated higher than I was, and the way I played showed that I belonged exactly in the pool I was in, and probably lower if such a pool existed. I was out-worked, straight up. 2. During the course of COVID, I let myself get significantly out of shape. Despite having options around me to stay active, I chose to ignore them. To stay sane, I probably drank my own actual weight in bourbon and other alcohol to cope with the stress of the situation. That would have been fine (or at least understood) DURING COVID, but when I got vaccinated and things relaxed down, I didn’t change those habits. I didn’t start trying to be more active again and I didn’t do anything to change the negative habits that developed during COVID. I basically let myself blimp up even further and become even more lethargic and lazy. I went from about 170 lbs. before COVID, to 187 lbs. during it, to as of right now, 216.1 lbs. AFTER. Carrying an extra 45 lbs. everywhere you go takes its toll physically. I just can’t do as much or go as hard as I used to be able to.
3. To piggyback off of the last reason, I drank entirely too much leading into the tournament. Literally, the night before, I polished off a bottle of coconut rum with two other people. The night prior to that, beer and bourbon and cokes. The night before? Shots of rum while I was packing. I was basically an internalized microbrewery who was bloated and awful, and had no energy to play when it finally came time to do so. I even felt sick and anxious as I played, and proceeded to vomit my guts out after I finished. It was only after that, well after I was eliminated, that I finally felt good and loose. All of this is to say that I didn’t give this tournament, the competitors in my pool, and for that matter, myself, the respect it, they, and I deserved, and it showed, and I embarrassed myself on stream. I don’t even want to watch the VODs or recorded footage of the matches because I’m so ashamed of myself up there. It fucking sucks. In essence, TL;DR: I let myself down because I let myself get fat, out of shape, unmotivated, and drunk, and I played like shit for it. I’m writing this because at the end of it all, I want to take accountability for that and I never want to feel that embarrassed again. I never want to play that badly again. I never want to be that ill-prepared ever again. And if I have my way, I’m not going to. Consider this my accountability plan. 1. With the USL Soccer Season officially over, I have my Saturdays to myself again. If I have any say in the matter, on top of Tuesdays and Sundays, I am going to spend my Saturdays in the arcade playing and getting back into playing shape. Additionally, I’m going to start going back to Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu class on my Wednesdays to try and get myself back into decent physical shape. At the minimum, if I can get back down to under 200 lbs., that would be a good starting point. 2. It’s obvious that I have some bad habits that I need to work through. I need to eat better, I need to exercise more, I need to develop healthier mindsets for dealing with negative situations around me. This even includes dealing with playing badly. It’s okay not to be the player that I used to be. I’m not that person right now. Hell, I’m not the person I was two or three years ago, period. Looking back in the past is not going to do me any good. I need to work with who I am now and build from that. 3. This is the hard one to come to grips with, and I hate that I’m writing it. I’m actually kind of scared to even put it in writing, but I don’t think I have much choice anymore. Right now, I have an unhealthy relationship with alcohol. I have for a long time now. And while I should thank my lucky stars that I haven’t said or done something egregiously stupid yet, I’m afraid that I’m probably teetering that razor’s edge. Even now, I constantly have an anxious feeling in my chest that I’ve said or done something wrong, or inadvertently hurt someone, and I’m going to get myself thrown out of a community that I love, and this was even after asking a friend of mine to effectively be my shadow at said event to make sure something like that explicitly DIDN’T happen. I can’t live like this and something has to change. Another friend of mine has challenged me to go till my birthday weekend (Dec. 9-11) without alcohol. I think that’s a good idea. If nothing else, to reset my body and mind. This part won’t be easy and I’m actually kind of afraid. I hope I don’t fail.
To hold myself accountable to this, I’m including two photos of myself currently. Unaltered, untouched, not hat on, etc. It’s me, as I am at 216 lbs., wearing a t-shirt and soccer jersey that is way too tight on me for my size.
Hopefully the next time I post photos of myself, I will look a little thinner, be in better shape, most definitely be under 200 lbs., and also being a little more sober. Ideally also playing DDR infinitely fucking better than I ever did this weekend. I can’t keep living like this. I have to do something about it now. :\ Thanks for reading.
#DDR#dance dance revolution#anxiety#alcoholism#overweight#weight loss#mistake on the lake 4#motl4#I feel like a failure right now#but hopefully that can change too
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