#I'm sure that if this wasn't in the equation
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Male violence towards women is not motivated by "hatred" towards women. That is an oversimplification.
On whose part?
Are you claiming that the feminists and anyone else who makes that claim is wrong, or are you saying I'm oversimplying what you think feminists really claim?
Because if it's the latter, it's not exactly rare for feminists to explicitly blame abuse on misogyny.
is motivated by toxic masculinity and men not being taught by society to express emotions in healthy and positive ways.
Domestic violence centers are regularly criticized by people who talk about men's issues for supposedly being biased in women's favor and against men.
And leaving that aside, the first link goes
The perception of men is then seen as dominating, aggressive, and unemotional.
A perception feminism itself strongly contributes to. It regularly and explicitly genders abuse.
When society puts so much pressure on men to behave in an unconnected way, sometimes men can begin to normalize power and control as perpetrators. They can also then ignore or not recognize when they are victimized by domestic violence because from an early age males are taught to believe they should be able to handle physical and emotional abuse. Not having recognition of their own victimization can lead to non representation of male domestic violence victims.
Okay. How about the part where society goes "it's not REAL abuse when a woman does it?"
I feel the need to emphasize this, and be clear. Men are generally permitted to defend themselves from assault by other men. But much less so for women.
Men are more likely to be arrested and go to jail, even if they did not lay a finger on a female abuser, and were the one to call the cops. In many places, it's almost explicit police policy to assume the woman was "defending herself".
I have been in and seen extended discussions where people refused to admit a woman could actually pose a serious physical threat to a man, ever, and said anyone who discussed it was clearly just a sexist man who wanted an excuse to harm women.
Note that there were several women disagreeing in these discussions.
Apparently the idea that a woman could grab a weapon was a "hyper-specific edge case", even though I provided an example of a woman who stabbed her larger partner to death with a nail file.
That article is really missing - or ignoring - the single most important part about male victim erasure.
Strangely enough, when I see people discuss this issue in terms of "toxic masculinity", they seldom discuss the female privilege that leads to male abuse victims being erased,
I'm not sure why you thought this was supporting your case about "male violence against women".
Even if it wasn't just an opinion column.
Your second link's strapline says "Young men who subscribe to traditional ideals of manhood are more likely to sexually harass women and bully others."
And then it says,
The researchers surveyed 1,000 young men on their attitudes toward seven pillars of traditional manhood: self-sufficiency, toughness, physical attractiveness, rigid gender roles, heterosexuality and homophobia, hypersexuality, and aggression and control over women.
Except traditional masculinity is strongly against men sexually harassing women, and bullying.
Or hurting women even in self defense.
Also, the fact that you're equating "toxic masculinity" to "traditional, mainstream masculinity" does not actually make feminists look less misandric.
I spent almost my entire post talking about female abusers, and you conveniently managed to find two "sources" that, um, don't actually mention female abusers.
Not once.
I couldn't have said it better myself.
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◜O Almighty Sovereign, the Universitas Magistrorum has provided the predictions you requested: The two stars have been captured by the world's gravity... After a lengthy orbital period, today their paths shall intertwine once more.◞
𝐂𝐗𝐗𝐗. Before this patch there was a mention in one of the Achievement name card about the Universitas Magistrorum, which, being the first time it was ever mentioned, it's natural to not know too much what to do with it. But upon further inspection in this recent patch about part of the studies the Narzissenkreuz Ordo were doing in order to see through their experiment in Neohumans first before diving into merging all souls into one and controlling the Primordial Sea (and other investigations of interest such as the Abyss and ancient civilizations), I'm nearly convinced to say that the Universitas Magistrorum of Khaenri'ah could be a good contender of an analogous to Sumeru's Akademeia.
◜Criticizing the Universitas Magistrorum for putting the cart before the horse, neglecting the fundamental principles underlying everything, and diving straight the details of how to put those techniques to use... How they inverted even the alchemical stages for other purposes...◞
Based on this quote, it seems that the information that a sector of Khaenri'ahns discovered (I say this and not everyone, because I'm an advocate that not everyone were into shady stuff) also manipulated it to their convenience.
◜..."Red" is the foundational principle, the philosopher's stone, while "yellow" represents gold and mortal temptation. Yellow is simply bait. Red is the final goal. However, Khaenri'ah would likely seek the truth for gold's sake before turning that truth into a bread production pipeline...◞
Just as they seem to have twisted the Opus Magnum and potentially the Art of Khemia in itself in pursuing gold / yellow as their concept of perfection which isn't entirely baseless either, as in alchemy gold was considered perfection (I suspect this is also why Rhineddotir is known as Gold, perhaps she reached the furthest in alchemy and the Opus Magnum in being able to create human life as per Albedo's words).
Overall, I find it heavily interesting that Khaenri'ah seemed to be highly proficient not only in the Art of Khemia or war, but also in knowledge despite how suspicious it is what they treated as truth in their own twisted way. Furthermore, I would also be nearly convinced that they also practised Astromancy (and coincidentally, Narzissenkreuz Ordo documents did talk about different kinds of this art). Looking into this, it's no wonder that Dain would say that Khaenri'ah was the humankind's pride.
#◟༺✧༻◞ events to be remembered in blue veins ┊addendum.┊#it's unfortunate that this civilization#plummeted the way it did#all because of their obsession#to take over everything and defeat the Heavenly Principles#I'm sure that if this wasn't in the equation#they could've achieved great things#alas#honestly this gives me more ideas#to set for Dain's background#during his stay in Khaenri'ah#because even if he describes himself as a warrior#which he indeed is#he's so versed in many matters#including arts#I guess it's time to dust off#the idea I had that he was part of the nobility
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I saw another post debating whether kids should have access to the adult secrion of the library (the answer is yes), and in response I present this list of 'adult' books I took a random interest in at the age of twelve or thirteen
Physics for dummies
String theory for dummies
Quantum physics for dummies
Calculus for dummies (because there was calc in the quantum physics book)
Trigonometry for dummies (because I needed it as background info for the calculus)
Parents beware: given unrestricted library access, your child may attempt to learn calculus as a result of a special interest in theoretical physics - or chase some other special interest into the depths of the grown-up nonfiction section. I did not actually understand the calculus, or the trig either, and eventually got bored and gave up, but I did have fun with it for a while. And when I got to the point of being able to take classes in physics, trig, and calc, I wasn't scared of them.
#books#libraries#hylian rambles#i was a very strange child#i had a 'obsessed with solving relativistic equations' phase too#for a while i had newton's laws and the laws of thermodynamics memorized#it was a whole thing#I'm scared of advanced math now but i sure wasn't at tweleve!#I'm also afraid of physics now#it scares me. tiny me was thrilled though.
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I just had to share this video because holy shit, it hits the nail right on the head! So well spoken. This stuff needs to be circulated more, esp with the growing number of people thinking they have this because of misinformation, or just outright faking it.
#it's painful because i knew someone who personally faked this stuff (or has convinced herself she has it i can't even tell)#she had spent all her time on tiktok and i know for 100% sure that's where she got the idea. it's TRAGIC how fast things went downhill#i'm legit horrified at how many people (esp young kids of 13-14) think they have this too. or are just pretending#i've been neck deep in hardcore research (and i'm talking pubmed sciencedirect etc only) for months#and those kids definitely don't have did.. if they have trauma and are dissociating it's going to be something else like dpdr etc#the number of stupid 'you have did' answers i see for totally basic questions like 'i got dizzy what's wrong w me' is insane too#it's like googling 'muscle twitch' and then thinking you have some rare 1/billion familial cancer thing despite other obvious explanations#but worse.. in these cases the information is being fed to them. they don't have an opportunity to explore other possibilities#and the worst part is they don't even know to CHECK THE VALIDITY OF WHAT THESE PEOPLE ARE SAYING. they don't have info literacy#like i'll say this once: did is so rare that it's STILL contentious about whether it even exists#and it only happens in the most unimaginably traumatic experiences. think of the worst possible things you could do to a child#where even just thinking about it makes you uncomfortable. THAT'S the kind of trauma that leads to did. the truly evil stuff.#i'm not even gonna start on the BITE model shenanigans that are happening in the 'did' communities either#or how the people who used to be in them (and got out) always equate them to self-harming cults that celebrated not finding real answers#they got told they were 'perfect the way they were' despite having OBVIOUS psychological issues they needed help for#(it just wasn't did)#they were assured their 'did was valid no matter what'. toxic positivity ig? it just delayed their real diagnosis and ability to get help#but now you have gluts of people like in the video 'talking to themselves' and people on tumblr posting one-liners of 'alters' talking#one after the other within seconds. and i want to fcking cry because it's the same exact shit my friend did before she cut ties#the did/tourettes/ftlb stuff has literally been called a 'mass sociogenic illness' in multiple academic studies#but like qanon believers they seem to immediately discredit anyone who mentions this with 'you're just ableist' so anything you say is poo#aka you're part of the problem you're an 'ableist' so your legit info even though legit isn't valid/acceptable/real/whatever. i'm tired fam#did#dissociative identity disorder#osdd#ddnos#munchausen syndrome#mass psychogenic illness#ableism
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everytime i remember that math majors exist i wonder if they're even truly human because i just had to walk in circles around my room because i was getting too frustrated doing basic algebra
#i mean technically i'm doing calculus#but the part i was fucking up wasn't the calculus it was the algebra#like i figured out the formulas and took the derivative just fine#and then proceeded to completely fail at plugging numbers into the derivative & original equation correctly#i think i might just need a break i've been at this assignment for far too long#nerd shit i guess#personal#bitching about calculus once again#i'm sure i'll figure the problem out later and shake my head in disappointment because it's not actually that bad
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Before my beloved and I moved in together they were living with roommates in a place that didn't have a bathtub. Now, a reasonable person might conclude from this that baths would be out of the equation in a home with only one standing shower and no tub.
But these people weren't quitters. Naturopathic doctors and acupuncturists they were dedicated to treating their bodies well and one of the ways they liked to do that was hydrotherapy. Most people are familiar with this through things like polar bear plunges. You sit in a hot tub then jump in freezing water.
It's supposedly good for you and they were way into it. But again, no tub. They'd do hydro showers but it just wasn't the same. These people were not quitters, though. (One of them is the boob soap person, so it really isn't a surprise that she goes hard on everything). So they got what looked like two big metal old timey tubs but which were actually animal food troughs and set them up in the garage. They set up a water heater and god knows how they emptied the tub after, I think there was hoses involved? A pump maybe? I honestly can't remember. Anyway! Voila, hydrotherapy on demand.
I was not aware of this. So when I came over after a long day and my beloved said we should take a bath I was extremely puzzled. I only knew about the one shower. They showed me the garage tubs. I did want a bath and I wasn't really sure about the setup, but honestly I'll try anything once if only for the story, so I agreed.
Fun fact about me though. I haaaate being cold. I've been 0% body fat most of my life with skin barely keeping my bones enclosed. I'm always cold. My favorite activity at the time was sitting directly in front of space heaters. My shower temperatures turn me lobster red and make my beloved cringe. Willingly dunking myself into cold water is the antipathy of my entire deal.
On the night in question I happily submerged into the warm tank, pleasantly surprised by the big silly improvised tub. Which again was meant for livestock. My knees bumped companionably against my beloved as we soaked in the hot water. After a while they rose to go into the cold water. "You don't have to," they told me.
But I was haunted. I wouldn't be doing hydro if I just stayed in the warm tub. Maybe hydro was amazing. It has all these health benefits. I desperately didn't want to but I stood up with them. We were having this nice intimate evening in the garage, just us, I felt safe. I was gonna do it.
They stepped easily into the cold tub, dunking matter of factly into the frigid water. I went to step. I did. I really really tried. My foot went in and I started shrieking, my progress arrested by the total state of shock I entered when my warm toasty foot hit that smug arctic water tension. My beloved started laughing as my pitch ascended the deeper my foot went into the cold water.
I started loudly narrating my discomfort as my foot touched the bottom and I willed my other foot up to join it. "THIS IS VERY COLD," I yelled, "IT'S SO COLD I THINK I MIGHT DIE HOW ARE YOU JUST CASUALLY SITTING IN THIS FREEZING COLD WATER?! I'M DYING- I THINK I'M DYING! I'M DYING BUT WE'RE HERE, TOGETHER! I CAN DO THIS! I CAN DO THESE EVEN THOUGH IT'S SO COLD ALL MY MOLECULES HAVE COMPRESSED INTO A SOLID STATE!"
I ended up with both feet planted in the cold tub, water up to my shins, bellowing and panting while my beloved laughed so hard they couldn't breathe. I hunkered over the cold water, squatting like a frozen gargoyle.
My beloved was trying to psyche me up while I willed my body to obey me. In a sudden jerky drop like a puppet whose strings have been cut I plummeted my body into the cold and let out a shriek that I’m sure could have shattered glass and then leapt up out of the water at a speed relative to a rocket achieving space flight. I didn’t like it.
When we got back inside my beloved's roommates were collapsed on the ground with tears in the their eyes from how hard they'd been laughing. They and probably every neighbor down the block had heard my pterodactyl screeching and narration because the garage was not remotely soundproof.
#ramblies#ffs foibles#funny#story#writing#my beloved#fun fact I'm the same way on roller coasters#I just scream a terrified narration and my beloved thinks its the funnies thing
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I'm procrastinating fuck
#the only reason I'd even think about interacting with someone who has an ov/erh/aul pfp#please enlighten me with your I'm sure glorious takes#I'm sure you have so much to add to this conversation#yeah yeah fictional morales don't equate real morals but he is#you know.#a child abuser- like an unapologetic child abuser#he sees nothing wrong with the way he turned a little girl into a bioweapon for his incredibly hypocritical cause#in terms of devotion and obsession with his boss I could almost see it#but didn't the syndicate LITERALLY tell him 'no that's not what I want' and he just kept going like 'anything you say boss'#so the guy wasn't even doing it for his boss he was just using his boss as a cover#smh#he's just a guy who wants to write y/n yakuza wattpad fanfic#despite being routinely and constantly told by his boss that his actions weren't acceptable or reflective of the claims he made for them#or at least told a couple times#it's been a while since I read and I would never pick it back up any time soon#but I remember thinking the boss wasn't a bad guy#maybe not the kind that would be horrified upon learning his deciple is a child abuser#but at least the sort of person who didn't actually want to return to a hollow past#the worldbuilding in that series left a lot to be desired#but ov/erh/aul was just a bland character#I'M STILL PROCRASTINATING FUCK
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18+ Eddie Munson x F! reader, best friend! Eddie, friends to lovers, dry humping, nipple play Summary: Eddie turns up at your house one night and in need of help so you show him how far you're willing to go to help out your closest friend. WC:4K
For the most part you were indifferent towards Jeff Parker. Neither of you ran in the same circles and he was usually the type to keep his head down but add a little alcohol to the equation and the guy turns into a regular Jay Gatsby — all over indulgent and the life of the party. You just wish that party wasn't taking place 15 feet away from your bedroom window.
It was all the drunken hollering and the thumping music that kept you up that night, bone-tired after pulling double shifts at work. It was the police sirens blaring an hour later that ripped you out of a dream just as you were finally able to doze off with your head buried beneath your pillow. And it was the tapping on your bedroom window that came ten minutes later that made you spring up and nearly shoot out of your own skin.
"Eddie! what the hell?", you whisper shout into the darkness of your bedroom, recognizing his shaggy haired silhouette crouched behind the glass and backlit by nearby streetlamps.
You figured he must have climbed up the lattice to get up onto your roof as he begins to point urgently at the lock on your window, mouthing at you to let him in.
Kicking off your covers, you quickly make your way over to the window and unlock it for him, pulling it open and stepping aside to allow him to barrel roll into your room and heave a heavy sigh of relief.
Sprawled out on your carpeted bedroom floor, Eddie pants the exertion away and you leave him there to rest, connecting the dots yourself.
"I told you to stop dealing at parties", you deadpan, shaking your head in that world weary way you often slip into when it comes to Eddie but all that seems to do is trigger a grin that makes him look suspiciously chipper.
"Got to make a living don't I?", he replies from the floor, his hair all wild and fanned out in an unruly halo of frizz and curls.
It's far too late at night for you to be bothered enough to get into it with Eddie so you simply roll your eyes at him instead, making sure to shut your window to keep the chilly night air from seeping into your warm, cozy room.
The music that'd been playing next door has finally been silenced, you're pleased to notice but as you look out the window you see that the patrol car responsible for making Eddie and several other partygoers disperse and hightail it out of there remains parked in front of Jeff's house.
"I'll make a move once the fuzz's gone. I'm parked a couple blocks away so it should be fine", Eddie explains casually, able to anticipate your concern but you keep your eyes fixed on the car and its flashing lights for a moment longer, chewing on your bottom lip.
The thing was, in a town where almost everyone had it out for your best friend, you weren't too fond of the idea of him driving home at this time of night with his pockets stuffed with illicit party favours. Hell, Eddie often gets pulled over in the middle of the day by asshole officers hoping to book him on a possession charge. And since the trailer park isn't exactly closeby, the likelihood of him running into another cop and getting pulled over seems way too high for your liking.
The thought of it alone makes your stomach plummet. You just didn't want to see your closest friend getting into any kind of trouble. Especially if you could do something to help prevent it.
Turning away from your window, you eye Eddie intently while he glances up at you from where he's still laid out on his back, his breathing even now that he's managed to catch his breath.
"I think you should stay the night. It'll be safer that way", you tell him plainly.
Though most of your room is draped in darkness, Eddie's lit up in a column of orange light that pours in through your window so it's easy for you to make out the way his eyebrows rise up and disappear behind his bangs, his eyes growing wider too as he props himself up on his elbows to look at you.
"Y' sure?", he asks and you can feel him studying your face closely, looking for any signs of doubt or hesitation.
You know he'll find none though. Sure, this is all very spur of the moment stuff but you have no reservations about having Eddie stay over. Exactly the opposite.
"Yeah. But be quiet, okay? My whole family's asleep", you tell him as he begins to pick himself up off the floor, face beaming as he grins at you and steps closer to where you're standing.
"Ya big softie. All worried about me, huh?", he posits, tipping his head to the side in a way that at any other time, you might have considered cute. Right now however, all he's managed to conjure is annoyance given how little sleep you've had tonight.
So you narrow your eyes at him, the rest of your expression flat as he makes the mistake of bringing his face closer to yours, giving you the opportunity to reach out and pinch his earlobe between your thumb and forefinger, twisting the soft skin until his teasing grin deflates and he throws up his hands in surrender.
"Fuck, uncle, uncle!", he calls out while keeping his voice as low as possible, face pinched in pain and looking all kinds of helpless before you decide to let go with a pleased scoff, a small smirk playing on your lips too.
Eddie rubs a hand over his newly freed ear, his gaze wandering away from your eyes, seemingly sizing you up before he takes a step back, no longer within your reach.
"By the way...", he utters cautiously, his gaze returning to your face when another smile curves his lips.
"Nice get up".
Confused, you take a look at yourself, your face turning warm as you tug down on the hem of your oversized t-shirt, hoping in vain that Eddie hadn't caught a glimpse of the panties you've got on underneath when he was down on the floor.
Though he doesn't confirm it, the look on his face says it all — that overly pleased smirk and that telltale glint lighting up his deep brown eyes. It irks you for just a moment before you surrender with a sigh.
"Eddie, I'm too exhausted for this. Please, can we skip the teasing and just go to sleep?"
A look of vague disappointment flashes over Eddie's face when you're able to quickly brush aside your momentary embarrassment, padding over to your side of the bed, no longer concerned with how much of your bare thighs might be on display before you pull back the covers and get in.
"C'mon, get in already", you urge him to join you as you motion to the vacant space on the left side of your bed, fighting off a yawn in the process because your eyelids are starting to feel heavy again.
It's Eddie who looks a little rattled now as he eyes your bed, his fingers fidgeting with the zipper on his jacket with restless uncertainty before he rids himself of it, setting it on your desk chair before he bends down to begin unlacing his shoes in the dark.
You hear him struggle while he's crouched down, whispers of 'shit', 'fuck' and 'god fucking damnit' said loud enough for you to hear while you giggle at him, feeling a bit more at ease now that you're reminded of the kind of dork Eddie is at his core — sharing a bed should be no problem.
You've already turned over, your back to Eddie and your cheek resting on your pillow by the time you feel him slide in under the covers next to you, mattress dipping under his weight.
"I'll take off before your folks get up, I promise", he says to you and you hum back a sleepy 'okay' in reply, nuzzling into your pillow.
With that out of the way and both of you settled in bed, you thought that would be the end of it until next morning but sleep doesn't come as quickly as you would like.
For the next couple of minutes you can feel him readjusting beside you, tossing and turning and you already know why. In the interest of getting back to sleep you interrupt him. "Eds, just take them off already", you mumble over your shoulder at him, causing him to freeze.
"You want me down to my underwear?", he whispers back at you and though your back's still to him you can feel the incredulous expression he's got on his face as his eyes bore into the back of your head.
"It's fine. I'm in mine too", you tell him with a seemingly unbothered huff though if he'd had his palm pressed to your chest and just above your heart he'd know you're nowhere near as calm as you make yourself out to be.
A moment of silence elapses before he finally answers.
"Mkay"
You feel him move around, catching the sound of his zipper being pulled down before he's shucking his tight jeans off, relief apparent in his tone when he settles back in bed now that he's shed the tight denim.
"Night then", he whispers to you as you do your best to stifle the warmth swirling in your belly.
"Night", you answer, eventually drifting off to sleep at last.
~
"Shit shit shit shit shit"
It's the first thing you hear when you begin to wake up, blinking several times to clear your blurry vision before you can take a look at your alarm clock.
6.30AM. The sun's just beginning to rise and you grumble under your breath as you turn over to face Eddie, figuring now's the best time for him to make his way home.
"What the hell?"
You squint at the boy who appears several shades paler than usual, his eyes all large, looking like some kind of cornered animal with a pillow shoved over his lap.
"Um, are you okay?", you sit up in bed, your back against the headboard just like Eddie's.
His eyes dart nervously all over the room, seemingly preferring to focus them anywhere else besides on you and that only leaves you feeling even more confused.
"Okay so- the thing is...I can't exactly leave right now", he mumbles sheepishly to you, the corner of his left eye pinching into a slight twitch.
"Why? are you okay?", you ask, yet to catch on as to what seems to be troubling him.
He looks positively torn with his teeth worrying his bottom lip and a light sweat forming at his temple. "Fuck. Okay. Please don't hate me. It's just that— I have no control over it, okay? it just happens sometimes in the mornings, you know? and- and I...oh god you think I'm some kind of perv don't you?"
You can only blink at Eddie as he brings both hands up to cover his eyes, his neck stretched taught as he leans his head back until it thuds softly against your wall, letting out a defeated sigh.
Looking down at the pillow placed over his lap, you're finally able to guess what the problem is, your belly swirling with a familiar flash of warmth again, same as when you listened to him taking his jeans off last night.
"Oh...well, I don't think you're a perv. It's uh, natural? you can't help it", you tell him as calmly as you can manage, wanting him to feel better by lightening the weight of shame and guilt he's currently shouldering.
Hands still on his face, he parts his fingers enough for him to peek at you from between them. "So you're not mad?", he whispers, watching you closely to gauge your reaction.
You shake your head softly, trying your best not to let your eyes drop back to the pillow in his lap like you might be able to see right through it. You want to see right through it. Badly.
"I'm not mad Eds. I promise".
With another deep sigh, he seems to be more at ease now that he knows that he hasn't upset you, letting his arms flop down at his sides.
"I don't know what to do" he whispers and you can hear how torn he is over the whole situation as you catch the helpless little quaver to his tone.
"What do you usually do?, you ask, your thoughts all frazzled and crowding your head way too quickly than you can manage to comprehend them.
Eddie says nothing, turning to face you with a pointed look, quirking an eyebrow up high at you.
"Right.. dumb question. sorry", you admit.
A few beats of silence commence as both of your minds work, passing over bad idea after bad idea before you turn to back to Eddie again.
"I mean, you could just use my—"
"I can't just jerk off in your bathroom with you sitting here", he stops you quickly and firmly though not unkindly, making you realize that no matter what you try to come up with, he's probably already thought of it first.
"Eddie we have to do something about it", you maintain, sparing a glance at your alarm clock as it reminds you that he's only got a limited amount of time left to leave before he risks getting caught by your family or a neighbor seeing him clamber out your window.
You think about it long and hard, one particular thought echoing louder than the rest in your mind. You try to will it away but it only takes up more space in your head until it's all you can think about, taking in a big breath before you decide to share it with Eddie.
"If you want, I could help you", you tell him, nervously picking at your fingers in your lap.
"...What do you mean?", he asks, looking at you suspiciously.
You shrug. "Y' could grind on me".
There's a pause that seems to drag on much longer than you would have liked, both of you staring into each others eyes, unblinking.
"I can't do that — feels like I'd be taking advantage of you or something", he finally breaks the silence, making you feel somewhat wounded that he'd turned your offer down even though you know he's only trying to be a decent friend. You wish he'd give it a rest.
"Would it help if I took over?", you offer next, steeling yourself in the case of him turning you down once more.
"Sweetheart...please don't tell me you're just fucking with me."
"I'm not I promise", you answer firmly.
"I...are you sure? I mean really 100% sure?", he asks again.
You can't help but roll your eyes at him, slipping your legs out from under the covers to straddle Eddie's thighs all while his jaw falls slack at the sight and feeling of you on top of him, your fingers curling around the pillow still resting on his lap.
"I'm sure. Are you?", you ask him before proceeding though if you were to guess, you could read the answer off his face with ease.
"I...yeah", he squeaks, eyes all big and round like he's in awe of the way you've taken the lead.
"Okay then. Let me get rid of this."
You toss the pillow aside to the spot you'd formerly occupied, gulping down the lump in your throat with some difficulty when you set your eyes on the tent in his striped boxers. The way it strains against his underwear, it's easy to guess he's both thick and lengthy under that thin veil of cotton and the more you look at it the more it feels like the room is starting to tilt and spin.
It's the kind of thing you've thought about in secret a fair amount, you and your best friend doing things that you wouldn't ordinarily do with someone who was just your friend. You pull yourself closer to him, laying your hands on his shoulders as you balance your core over his bulge, carefully lowering yourself until you're pressed up right against his clothed cock. Both of you release a shaky breath at the feeling, him, because you feel so warm and soft and you, because he feels so warm and firm.
"Put your hands on my hips", you tell him next, liking the way his cheeks pink up in response as he places them on you gently, sending a wave of goosebumps all along your body.
You start slow, grinding yourself on the ridge of his cock, unable to help the way your pussy flutters as you drag it up near Eddie's tip and back down close to his balls, working your way up to a simple rhythm.
"How's that? is it good?" you ask, making sure to check in with him.
"Shit yeah that's...that's good. Keep going", Eddie starts to firm up his grasp on you, guiding you, encouraging you to pick up the pace, all the while you try to keep secret the way your stomach tightens up with so much heat, your pussy dripping plenty with slick.
"Eddie..."
"Yeah?"
"What are you thinking about?", you ask him as you notice the the way his brows have begun to knit together, the same way they get when he's concentrating on nailing a solo on stage.
"I don't think I should uh answer that", he answers cautiously, disappointment making your lips push out into a little pout.
"Please. I wanna know", you ask gently, melting his resolve with your pleading eyes
"...M' thinking about your tits", he grits out, looking like he ought to be ashamed about it. You figure you have a way to fix that.
"Do you want to see them? would that um, help?"
Your offer hangs in the air for a few seconds as you finally manage to catch your clit the right way along Eddie's clothed cock, your toes curling while pleasure blooms inside your bones.
You no longer make a strong effort to hide the way that humping his cock is making you feel either, that it's not just him who's getting off here and maybe that's why Eddie manages to convince himself that it's okay to take this next step with you.
"I want to see them — yeah", he manages to croak out, his fingers twitching with so much excitement around your hips. He's thought about it too — the two of you like this. How could he not? when you're the only one who's ever cared. When you look the way you do. When you're soaking through your underwear and his with your nipples already hard as they show through your shirt.
How could he not want you?
With Eddie giving you the green light, you take your hands off of his shoulders and pick up the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and off as you toss it behind you, uncaring of where it might land.
"Oh my god."
To you it might have felt like a quick undressing but for Eddie the world slows down to a crawl. He sees it all; the subtle way your breasts bounce and shift with your movements, the way they slope and rest on your chest, rising and falling with every breath and the way your perky nipples react to the cold air in your room, pebbling before his eyes.
"You can touch them if you want", you notice the way he's looking at them, feeling his cock jump under you.
"Christ, you're trying to kill me", he answers all hoarse.
To you, there's no greater compliment, your smile widening into a grin. Carefully, you guide him this time, prying his hands away from your hips and encourage him to cup his hands over your tits instead, moaning when he begins to press into the soft flesh, squeezing and massaging them.
"That feels good", you whisper, hips still working as you drag your drenched clit along his cock. "God, Eddie I've— I've wanted this for so long", you sigh dreamily, the truth spilling out much faster than you can try to swallow it all back down, all because you're so weak for the way those big, wide cinnamon eyes of his are staring back at you.
Your core's all sticky now, panties practically pasted to your skin in that messy way that usually has you eager to peel them off. Though as much as you'd like for the both of you to rid yourselves of all the tacky cotton between you, to be completely bare with each other, you don't want to mess up the rhythm you've fallen into, your clit pulsing and throbbing as you ride Eddie's lap.
"Honey... are you telling me that we could have been doing this from the start?", he asks, slightly anguished. He continues to gently pulling and pinching at your nipples while he keeps his eyes locked on yours, hushed grunts and groans falling from his parted lips.
Your hips are moving faster now, bed squeaking beneath you both, not that you care about your family hearing it — not right now — not when you're so close.
"I— I guess. Yeah", you gasp out when he pinches your right nipple, his left hand falling back down to your hip to guide you.
"You know how many times I've thought of you like this? how many times I've had to picture you on top of me just to get me through the day?, he asks, pulling and pushing you along his length with fervor.
"Why didn't you say anything?", you whine back.
"C'mon. We both kno— know you can do better than—"
Despite almost reaching the peak of your climbing orgasm, you dig your nails into the hand Eddie's got fixed on your hip, forcing your knees into your mattress to bring you both to a halt.
"Don't ever say that. Don't ever say that because it's not true", you place your hands on his cheeks, caressing his face gently. "I only kept my mouth shut incase you didn't feel the same about me...I didn't want to spoil what we already had. I couldn't stand it if you didn't want to be friends anymore..."
"Baby—", it's his turn to cradle your face, thumb making gentle circles on your cheek. "You could never lose me", he tells you, soft but firm and then you feel a pull and you suppose he must feel it too because you're both leaning in, faces closer than they've ever been before, lips grazing each other before you're sharing a kiss with your best friend for the very first time
It's gentle at first, both of your fingers weaving into each others' hair, a soft nip here and there before growing more hungry when Eddie's tongue meets yours. Both of you moan and whimper into each other's mouths, sloppy and messy, your heartbeats turning rapid when you eventually have to break for air, Eddie in need of the same when your lips part with a sticky click and he leans back to rest against the headboard again, panting. Any longer and he'd have cum from the kiss alone.
You catch your breath first, the corner of your mouth picking up into a lopsided smile. "Now are we going to make up for lost time or what?", you challenge him, both of you beaming with bright eyes and brighter smiles.
You pick up where you'd both left off, your hands on Eddie's shoulders and him, one hand on your hip, the other on your right breast, squeezing your soft skin, flicking your nipple because it makes you gasp and he loves hearing the sound of it.
"Please tell me you're close" Eddie grunts, sure to leave marks behind on your hip in the shape of his fingers. You were looking forward to admiring them in the mirror later.
"G-getting there. Wanna go faster— is that okay?", you make sure to ask, his answer coming through when his left hand slips down to find space on your other hip, pulling and pushing you along his length quick enough to make you squirm on his lap as your clit drags on him just right.
"Eddie— feels perfect...I think I'm gonna-"
"Please—" he cuts you off quickly with a ragged huff, his eyes wandering away from the wet, sticky stains that'd developed on both your underwear and his, pausing on the way your breast bounce and jiggle before fixing on your your eyes. "Please cum. I wanna watch you."
Your body begins to move on instinct as it chases your climax, eager to reach it this time than let it slip through your fingers twice. You're closer than before because it feels even better when you begin to lean back, your hands coming to rest on Eddie's thighs behind you. Your chest puffs out while you start to bounce yourself on Eddie's clothed cock, your puffy clit grazing against the stiff underside of his shaft, dragging dragging dragging until your eyes squeeze shut and it happens. The force of it wracks your body, overcome as your whole body quivers, and shakes, your pelvis twitching and jerking — and Eddie watches it all closely and unblinking.
In all his years of settling for quick glances and sly peeks at your body like those times your cleavage showed above your neckline or your bare legs and thighs were displayed whenever the weather called for a pair or shorts or a skirt, Eddie's never seen a more beautiful sight than the one he's taking in now — The way a light sheen glistens on your face, neck and chest, your swollen lips parting, releasing whimper after moan, your hair a little wild and beautiful and your panties drenched and ruined.
Eddie reaches out and brings you close, wrapping his arms around you as your chests meet and you fold into him, burying your face in his neck, whimpering and whining as your clit aches with oversensitivity though not enough to ask him to stop.
He's close by the sound and feel of it, so you grit your teeth and let him buck up against your poor soaked cunt, over and over as you drink in every grunt and groan. You want him to feel good too, unable to resist helping him tip over the edge. You let your tongue slip out from between your lips, licking the salt by his pulse point and letting out a little whisper to unravel him completely.
"Go on, cum for me, Eddie."
A guttural groan rumbles out of his throat just seconds later. it's instantaneous the way pleasure flares white hot at the pit of his stomach, shooting all the way up and raining down on the rest of his body like fireworks.
Though you're yet to feel Eddie inside you, yet to have your walls stretch to accommodate his shape and length so that you don't miss every little jerk, twitch and throb before he spills hot into you, you're still able to feel the effect of Eddie's orgasm. His body shudders and twitches underneath your weight, your pussy feeling warmer and wetter where just under it, Eddie's cum spurts rope after messy rope into his underwear, the cotton becoming saturated with his spend and transferring to your panties.
In the moments following your intense mutual pleasure, the both of you remain entangled in each others arms, sitting in the damp mess you've made of yourselves while you fight to catch your breath. It's Eddie who manages to break the silence first.
"...Do I have to go?, he whispers to you, one warm hand stroking your back gently.
"Do you want to go?, you ask softly against his neck, nuzzling against his skin.
"Not if I can stay and be with you"
You smile hard, chuckling against his skin. "Then stay. I want you to stay too. Y' can hide out in here"
"Yeah? I'm your little secret, huh?", he teases, his lips kissing your temple
"Only for today", you reply.
"Oh?"
You gently unstick yourself from Eddie so you can look him in the eyes, brushing his sweaty bangs away from his bright eyes before you cradle his cheek with one hand.
"Tomorrow I'm telling everyone we know that you're mine"
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Danny hadn't ever been on this side of the equation before.
He stared at his old phone, the prickle of unease scratching at his neck.
Danny was the one that died. He was the one that died and came back. He'd never asked anyone how it had felt to see him die over and over again to become Phantom. Danny was starting to think that maybe he should have, if only so that he wouldn't be blindsided about what he felt now.
"Danny? Y'okay?"
Danny glanced up at the mumbled words, numbed eyes looking at Jason's sleep-heavy face.
"Hm?"
"Ya've been lookin' at that thing for an hour now. You good?"
Danny blinked at him, like the world was a sea of bittersweet molasses and he was the sailor drowning beneath its waves. "...Remember how I told you that you reminded me of my sister?"
There was apprehension on Jason's face now. It was a gentle kind of apprehension, softened by worry and love.
“Yeah…?”
Danny gestured for Jason to come closer. He opened the phone and tapped on Jazz.
“Woah. She kinda looks like me.” Jason tugged at his black hair. “Y’know, if I kept my red hair.”
Danny smiled, sad and tired. “Yeah. She really liked reading. And she always wanted to know more. Help more. Like you,” Danny’s eyes laid on the folded uniform of Robin on the kitchen table. He hugged Jason closer. “You remind me of her.”
“What… what happened to her?”
Danny hadn’t cried for a long, long time. Even when Jazz spoke to him in half remembered whispers and in Jason’s actions, he could not shed a tear. But something about today, something about those pictures, opened up a poorly scabbed wound and Danny’s face dripped with slow tears.
“She died,” he whispered. “I brought the vigilante life to her and she died protecting me.”
“Oh. That’s why you were so mad, then.” Jason looked down at the picture, blue eyes tracing the face of the woman that looked so similar to him.
“Yeah.”
“I won’t die, Danny,” Jason promised.
"Don't make promises you can't keep, Jay." Danny squeezed Jason's shoulders before wiping away his tears. He inhaled, a slow, shuddering breath, before straightening. "You are so grounded."
"But- Robin!"
"Jason will always come before Robin. And Jason is grounded because Jason lied to me about being Robin and where he was going and whether or not he was safe."
And really, wasn't that the crux of the issue? Danny didn't have any problem with Jason going out and starting fights. He had no problem with how Jason wanted to help. But the thought of loosing him- loosing his loved ones after only learning to keep them clutched to his heart before he looses them- drove Danny down a spiral that he could not afford to enter again.
How many times had Danny almost lose Jason? How many times did he come to loosing the only good thing in Gotham? How many times had he laid asleep, not knowing whether Jason was bleeding out in an alley somewhere? How close had Danny come to waking up to news of Jason's cold corpse?
It made him furious. More than that, it made him terrified. Never in his half life had he ever been afraid to this extent. Not even for Jazz. It made him want to drown the feeling with enough booze to down a speedster. But he couldn't. Not now, not with Jason. His little brother deserved better than that. Not to mention the shit his little brother would get up to if he weren't fully there.
"But first, you gotta help me with something."
"... Fine."
Danny got up and bee-lined towards his booze stash. They're going out. Right now. He shoved the bottles into a tote bag.
"Let's go. We're destroying this."
"We are?"
"I can't be drunk and teach you how to vigilante."
"You're okay with me being Robin?" Hesitant blue eyes peered up at him. Danny's heart melted, the traitorous little shit.
"Not really. But I can't stop you, so I might as well make sure you live past 25." He jabbed Jason's forehead. "And I'll be reaming out Batman the next time he swings by, now that I'm not pissed as hell. I'll make sure it hurts."
"He's not that bad."
Danny sent him an unimpressed look and Jason mimed zipping his mouth closed, twisiting an imaginary key and throwing it over his shoulder. The little shit thinks he's got jokes. (He does, but Danny's supposed to be mad with him right now, so he'll never admit he thinks Jason's funny.)
They walked out of the apartment complex and turned to the right, right into the alley.
Did his heart give a little twinge every time Jason tossed the booze? Yes. But the hopeful thrill in his little brother's countenance made up for every single penny he spent.
"So... How long am I grounded for?"
At the reminder, Danny's hands clamped around one of the last bottles a little harsher than necessary.
"You... are grounded for- till college." He gritted out, tossing the bottle.
Jason's horrified "For- till college?!" rang nicely against the shattering of Danny's booze. Danny grinned and gave Jason a noogie.
"For till college," He affirmed, joking tone making Jason grumble, struggling to get out of the hold. "Or, for like, a week."
---
"Hey, Danny?"
Danny grunted, rousing slightly from his nap on the couch. They had been watching a show in the middle of Jason's grounding when he had drifted off.
"Did I ever tell you I had a brother?"
Danny's eyes flew open. "... No. Do you want to?"
Danny swiveled his head to look at Jason, who sat with his back against the couch and his head set aglow by the light of the TV. He looked... sad. Lonely.
"His name was Danny too."
Danny's heart shot right up to his throat. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. He died." Danny couldn't help the thought that passed him. Me too, buddy, me too. "I thought you were him. 'S why I talked ta ya, even if y're drinkin'."
Danny tilted his head back, silently closing his eyes in grief. It was fate, that wily Ancient.
"Is that... bad?"
"Nah. You're as good a brother as he was."
"Thank you for telling me, Jason."
"Whatever."
Danny laid back down, the thread of a memory all but confirming his theory.
"Come on, Danny-o, Jazz was being a good sister!"
Five year old Danny pulled the blanket up to his chin, pouting. His mother laughed.
"That's right, sweetie. She was trying to make sure you didn't get sick."
"I don't want Jazz! I want- I want a brother instead!"
His parents exchanged amused looks. "Well, Danny-o, you almost had a brother."
"Really?" Danny turned around, curious.
"Really. If Jazz was a boy, we would have named him Jason!" His dad laughed, ruffling his hair.
Danny wrinkled his nose. "Ew. I like Jazz better... oh."
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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 20 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley gets the update he's been waiting for. You get something you weren't expecting. Neither of you can tell the other how you're feeling.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, romantic Bradley, 18+
Length: 3700 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader
Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist
You drove Bradley's Bronco back to his house, dragged yourself back inside, and climbed back in bed. You cried so hard when you watched him carry his duffle bag into the airport, you had painful hiccups for twenty minutes afterwards. Now you were emotionally drained and on the cusp of a headache, and this was only the first day.
With your cheek on Bradley's pillow, you pulled the covers over your head and took a few deep breaths. He didn't know much about his deployment, but the communication blackout was designed to keep you from learning anything. If something happened to him, it might be weeks before you heard about it. Your heart ached as you thought about how lonely he was going to feel after he made it a point to tell you how much he loved getting mail from your class last time.
You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket, and you scrambled to get it out.
About to take off. I love you, Gorgeous. I'll let you know when I land.
Well, you had about six hours to kill until you would hear from him again, which felt bad enough. Then seven full weeks after that. You typed back to him with fresh tears in your eyes, and then you tried to sleep, but the hiccups came back. When you moved to the couch, it felt too cold. You were tempted to call Natasha, but if you couldn't even make it a handful of hours without Bradley, you didn't think she would be able to help you.
It would start to get better. It would have to. When your winter break ended, you'd be back in your classroom with your students. You could dive into your lesson plans for the new year. You could focus on teaching. You could do this. Because if you found out the hard way that you couldn't, then you had no business being with Bradley.
--------------------------
Bradley was given a tiny room in the barracks on base in Norfolk, and he spent the entire night talking to you on the phone. Literally six hours straight before he passed out, sound asleep, hanging halfway off the bed with his phone connected to the charger. One of the last things he remembered you saying was, "As soon as you know if it's San Diego or Norfolk, let me know. I love you."
The following morning, he was so exhausted, he was practically dizzy as he met with his commanding officer, Admiral Walker, for this new special deployment. Even his arm felt heavy as he saluted Walker in his office. It was barely seven o'clock which equated to four in the morning in San Diego, and he knew it would take him a few days to get caught back up on sleep at this point. But every second of talking to you was worth it.
"Lieutenant Bradshaw. Welcome back to the Atlantic Fleet," Walker told him, gesturing to the empty chair in the office.
"Thank you, Sir," he replied, even though he was far less than thrilled to be back in Virginia at all. The prospect of a change of station could not have come at a worse time when he spent the flight from California looking at engagement rings on his phone.
As Bradley sat down, the older man said, "We never wanted to lose you to the Pacific in the first place, so I'm sure you can understand why you'll be staying on the east coast after your seven weeks on the Gerald R. Ford is complete."
His heart sank to his feet, and he felt like he was going to throw up. "Sir?" Bradley asked. "That's it? There's no chance of me returning to North Island?"
When the response he got was a raised eyebrow, Bradley pressed his lips into a line. This man wasn't going to give a shit that he owned a house in Coronado or that he was in love with the most beautiful woman in the world who happened to work in Mira Mesa. Something told him that keeping his mouth shut was the better option right now, even though he felt like punching a hole in the wall and flipping the desk.
Walker shuffled some papers on his desk. "Plans still need to be finalized, but it is our goal, and the goal of the US Navy, to change your station to Norfolk."
The words echoed in Bradley's mind. He couldn't decide if he should tell you about this yet. It wasn't like he had signed paperwork in his hand. Until he did, as far as he was concerned, he was going back to Top Gun and the love of his life. He knew you were stressed and concerned enough as it was, and he didn't want you to have to dwell on this unless it was finalized.
"Once aboard the carrier, mission details will become available to you and the other aviators," Walker informed him. "I have a folder with your bunk assignment and some more information that you can take with you right now. You'll have access to your phone for about another hour, but as soon as you report to the carrier, it will need to be shut down and locked up. Are we clear, Lieutenant?"
Before Bradley could even respond, there was a sharp knock at the door. Walker heaved a weary sigh as his gaze left Bradley's face, and he barked, "Come in."
Of all the faces he knew from North Island, Bradley wasn't exactly sure if it was a friendly one, but when the door opened, Admiral Simpson came strolling inside in his service khakis. He couldn't fathom why his meeting was being interrupted by Cyclone, but he sat quietly with the folder in his hands.
"Admiral Walker," Beau Cyclone greeted, voice as stern as ever. "You never returned my calls, and red eye flights the week of Christmas are not something I find endearing."
Walker stood behind his desk with all of his accolades hanging on the wall behind him, and Bradley jumped to his feet as well. "Admiral Simpson," Walker replied, voice dripping with disdain. "There was no need for you to fly out in person to release your pilot to my fleet."
Bradley could hear Cyclone's knuckles crack as he watched his eye twitch. He was somehow caught in the middle of this, but it looked like the Top Gun admiral was in no mood to be outmaneuvered and lose a member of his team. Bradley silently goaded him on while he stood there completely still.
"I'm not releasing anyone to you. That's not how this works," Cyclone barked. "If you can't manage your fleet, you don't get to poach from mine."
The admirals seemed to be in a competition to see whose face could get redder. "Admiral Simpson, I'm sure you'll find my rank alone is reason enough for-"
"You do not outrank me," Cyclone interrupted, voice loud but calm. Then he turned toward Bradley with his jaw clenched and said, "Lieutenant Bradshaw. You are dismissed. Please board the USS Gerald R. Ford on time for your deployment."
"Yes, Sir," he replied, saluting both men before walking back out into the hallway on slightly unsteady legs. He paused, hoping to hear some more of their conversation or an outright blow up that would give him a clue as to what the fuck was going on, but instead he walked the rest of the way to the barracks to collect his duffle and head to the docks.
With his phone in his hand once again and his bag slung over his shoulder, Bradley called you. He knew it was early and he'd be waking you up, but time was tight now. And your voice was the only thing that would keep him sane at the moment.
"Bradley," you sighed a second later, and he pressed his phone tighter to his ear.
"Baby, I miss you so much," he promised, heart aching. He swallowed hard and decided not to bring up anything that was going on since he didn't have a completely clear understanding of it himself. "I'm about to board the carrier."
He could hear you crying, and he wanted to kick himself. "Just come back safely. That's all I want. As long as you're safe, that's all that matters to me, okay?"
He was having a hard time keeping his own tears at bay. "Me, too. We'll figure out the rest of it later, Gorgeous. Take care of yourself. Write in the journal. And don't forget to check the mail."
"I love you, Bradley!"
"I love you so much."
As soon as he ended the call and turned off his phone, he had to walk through a small building for security screening. It was there that his bag and phone were taken from him. When he exited the other side, his duffle was handed back to him, but his phone was not.
"Sorry, Lieutenant," the petty officer told him with a shrug when he glared. "I'll tag it for you and return it when you get back to Norfolk. At least it's not a long deployment."
Bradley couldn't even argue with that. It wasn't that long in the grand scheme of things. He'd been overseas for a full twelve months at a time when he was younger. This should have felt like nothing, but he knew it would feel like the worst one. He hefted his bag higher on his shoulder and started to head for the bunk that would be his for the duration. There was no sense in standing on deck when there was nobody who would be looking for him to see him off.
He made it down two hallways before a loud voice echoed off the walls around him. "Lieutenant Bradshaw." When he turned, Admiral Simpson was heading his way, face so red it was almost purple. Bradley's heart sank.
"Yes, sir?"
The other man pulled his composure together, sighing like an angry bull. "While you will be under the command of Admiral Walker for this deployment, you will fly directly back to San Diego when you return to port in Norfolk. You'll be presented with the paperwork today."
Bradley's jaw dropped open. "I'm returning to the Pacific Fleet, Sir?"
He got one firm nod in response. "I told you last week that I would do what I could to retain you."
This was honestly the best case scenario, and Bradley could feel some of his tension melt away. "You weren't kidding," he mumbled before clearing his throat. "Thank you, Sir. Being in San Diego is important to me."
"Fly safely, Lieutenant. See you in seven weeks," Cyclone barked before turning on his heel and walking toward the ramp back down to the dock.
Bradley pumped his fist in the air. "Fuck, yeah," he whispered, spinning on the spot. He would get to go back to the station he preferred in North Island as well as his friends, but most importantly, he would get to return to you. There would be no stress of packing and moving and hoping you were still willing to come with him. He could stay in Coronado.
When he slid his hand into his pocket to get his phone out to call you back, he froze. "God damn it."
------------------------------
If waiting for emails and letters was bad before, this was torture. The early days of getting to know Bradley through written notes left you with constant butterflies in your tummy, but now it felt like you were walking around with a lead weight instead. You constantly caught yourself reaching for your phone to text him before setting it back down in frustration.
You hadn't heard from him since before he stepped onto the aircraft carrier, and that was four days ago. Today was New Year's Eve, and at least you had the wine bar with Natasha to look forward to. While you got dressed and ready to go, you couldn't help but put in just the bare minimum amount of effort. What was the point when your boyfriend wasn't even here to give you kisses along your neck and call you Gorgeous? You pouted at your reflection in the bathroom mirror and put the cap on your lip gloss before even using it.
"You look nice," Nat said as you climbed in the front seat of her car. You turned to look at her with one eyebrow raised.
"I'm wearing Bradley's old sweatshirt with a pair of leggings that are starting to get a hole in the crotch."
She started cackling as she pulled away from the curb. "Well, you still look nice."
"Thanks," you said softly, watching the houses go by.
As Nat turned toward the highway to head up to Oceanside, she asked, "How are you making out?"
You pressed your lips together for a few seconds, trying to make sure you weren't going to cry. "I'm just having a hard time being off from work while he's gone. It's... harder than I thought it would be. I can't wait to return to my classroom in a few days."
"I'm sure that will make it easier," she agreed. "You'll be so busy, time will start to fly by. Oh, I forgot to ask if you got any interesting mail at Bradley's house since he left?"
You shook your head. "I barely remember to check the mailbox most days. Why?"
"Don't worry about it," she replied smoothly. "You'll be back to work in a few days, but in the meantime, we've got merlot and chardonnay to keep your mind occupied."
"Sounds like you're talking about two hot French men," you said with a laugh.
"I could be! You don't even know!"
Now both of you were laughing. And you were still laughing when you actually did order a glass of merlot and a glass of chardonnay. You and Nat enjoyed some wine flights and cheese platters, and she regaled you with stories about Bradley from flight school.
"When he was twenty-two, he probably weighed a hundred and twenty pounds," she said with a smirk. "He was such a nerd, too. God, it was so bad." You were trying to stifle your laughter as she added, "Once he really started working out and grew the mustache, he thought he was hot shit. He's still a fucking nerd."
"He kind of is," you agreed through your giggles.
"But he's a good one," she promised. "Wears his heart on his sleeve too often, but I don't think he has to worry about you breaking it."
You ran your hand along the sleeve of his sweatshirt. "Never."
Once the two of you were filled with cheese and sober enough to get back in the car, you paid for your adventure with the gift card Bradley gave you, only to find out it had five hundred dollars on it.
"Natasha! We need to come back like four more times," you said as you signed the slip.
"I don't see any issue with that," she muttered, leaving cash for a tip. "I think I'll write Bradley an email and thank him for funding girls' day so he can read it when he gets back to Norfolk."
"I think he'd like that."
You started thinking about the journal sitting on the nightstand in his bedroom. Every night before you fell asleep, you'd been pouring your heart and thoughts out into the thing, but even the mention of the word Norfolk had you fretting again. You managed to keep up the conversation with Bradley's best friend as she drove you back to Coronado, but perhaps you should keep most of your things packed after you moved your stuff to his house. What if you had to move to Virginia when the school year ended?
"Thanks for driving," you told her when she pulled up to Bradley's driveway to let you out.
"Anytime," she said, waving you off. "We'll go back up again soon." When you leaned in to give her a hug, she told you, "Don't forget to check the mail."
"Okay."
You weren't sure exactly what her deal was since Bradley couldn't send you anything, but if she wanted you to, then you would. You already promised your boyfriend you'd keep an eye on anything unusual that arrived, so as you walked up to the front door, you took a peek inside the mailbox. Empty. Just like the house. You curled up on the couch with the journal and started to write your daily entry.
I heard from a very reliable source (Natasha) that you were and still are a nerd. I'm going to need to see some pre-stache photos of you when you get home. Your best friend is a wealth of information when you get some wine in her, and I had a great time with her today.
But I miss you. So much. Sometimes it knocks the breath out of my lungs. Your house is too cold and quiet without you here, hogging the couch and eating snacks. I'm looking forward to school starting up in a few days. It'll be a little less lonely when I have eighteen kids telling me what they got for holiday gifts. Of course I'll have to tell them they won't get a visit from their favorite aviator for a while. We'll just be nineteen sad pen pals.
---------------------------
On January second, you were working on your lesson plans while wearing Bradley's gym shorts and eating potato chips. Tomorrow you'd get back into a routine with work, but first you were going to allow yourself one last day of being kind of pitiful. You bit off more than you could chew with Bradley, and now you were paying the price.
You sporadically started crying at random times throughout the day, and it was only made worse by the overwhelming feeling of being alone. If you could barely make it a week without hearing from him, how were you going to make random deployments with no communication your lifestyle? Why did you even think you could?
While you were crunching your way through some potato chips, you heard something thump on the front porch. The sound made you jump on the couch, and you set your snack down on the table and crept to the front door. When you peeked outside, there was nobody there, but when you cracked the door open, you saw a box. A fairly large box. Addressed to you.
"Oh my god," you gasped. It was from Bradley. According to the date stamped next to your name, he somehow sent a box from the post office in San Diego last week. "Oh my god!"
You grabbed it and kicked the door shut, almost tripping on your way back to the coffee table. When you tried to claw at the tape, you almost broke your nails. "Scissors," you shouted, running for the kitchen drawer by the sink where your boyfriend kept a random assortment of junk. Then you walked quickly back to the couch and started to cut into the box.
Natasha had to be behind the arrival of the box, but you couldn't fathom what could possibly be inside. If Bradley wanted you to have something, he could have simply given it to you before he left. Your heart was pounding as you set the scissors down and looked inside.
"Bradley," you gasped, tears filling your eyes as those familiar butterflies zoomed and swooped around in your belly. You'd been so upset about missing out on his letters, he sent you a whole box of them. There were dozens of envelopes and little treats filling the box nearly to the top, but a neon orange envelope with OPEN ME FIRST written on it caught your eye. You pulled it out of the box and tore into it.
Hey, Gorgeous,
I'm thinking about you right now. Guaranteed. It doesn't matter when you get this box or when you read this note, I'm thinking about how much I love you. And if I'm asleep, I'm dreaming about us eating Thai food on the beach in front of a sunset that is nowhere near as beautiful as you.
I hope you realize there was no way you weren't going to get some letters from me while I'm deployed. I would never let that happen. Somehow, you fell in love with me this way in the first place, and more than anything, I want you to feel as loved as I do. So I filled this box with little notes and long, rambling love letters and things I thought you might like. When you read the individual envelopes, you'll know what to do.
Please fill that journal up for me. I can't wait to read it in seven weeks. I'm missing you like crazy, and I selfishly hope you're missing me just as much. I love you.
Yours Truly,
Bradley
With shaking hands, you set the note down on the orange envelope and swiped at your tears. You never dreamed you would meet a man this romantic, but somehow you did, and he became your boyfriend. "Oh, Bradley," you whispered, picking up a stack of envelopes and reading what was written on each one.
Open me when you've had a bad day
Open me when you really want some coffee
Open me when you need a laugh
Open me when you're in bed
Open me when you need a girls' night
Open me with your class
You flopped down onto the couch and kicked your feet in the air. "Bradley!" you shrieked, voice breaking as you started to cry. You hugged the letters to your chest and let the warm feeling of being loved wash over you and fill your heart. He was unbelievable. He was perfect. He was everything you wanted. And somehow you loved him a little more and missed him a little less with this box on the coffee table.
------------------------------
He's so romantic. He's taking care of Gorgeous from afar! He's coming home to San Diego, but she doesn't even know it! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls and @daggerspare-standingby
PART 21
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aaaadhasjsahfjsdfkhjdsfkjhdfs dies
#FIRST DAY OF FINALS: FINISHED#just. one more. and i can sleep the whole of friday >_<#today wasn't too bad but i did almost cry during the math final lol#it was the end of the day and i was tired and frustrated and my teacher SAID the questions would be like the ones on the review but#then they threw in a fraction to a quadratic equation and i was. very lost#especially since the equation only had an a and c value and no b#so solving it with the quadratics formula was confusing and i'm pretty sure i failed that question#and a few other ones that were DEFINITELY not on the review#i don't know if i really care though >_>#i think that's the one i got the worst grade on so far but we haven't gotten results back since my math teacher wasn't here today#i was much more worked up and frustrated about it earlier but i took a nap to stave off the emotions and was okay afterwards#i just... need to remember that i'm in an honors math class for a reason and that i'm not 'stupid' or 'incompetent'#some stuff is just hard to understand and i'll get the hang of it eventually even if it's not right now#and either way what am i going to need parabolas and quadratics for in the veterinary field??#unless.... calculus..... o_o#that's a stressor for another day ANYWAY#tomorrow should (key word should) be easier since most of my core classes were today#crossing my fingers that i get out of it alive and well#i'm now going to go and promptly pass out on my face because my brain is literally so fried right now#good night tumblr <33#rainy.file
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this is very unedited, and i'm like half asleep as i write this, but a Horan!sister reader has been in the back of my mind recently (mostly bc i miss one direction and maybe bc i saw niall live a couple weeks ago) anyway, enjoy!
"We...We, um, we kissed."
"Yeah. We did."
"But we're—we're friends."
"I know."
"Are you freaking out? I feel like you're not freaking out enough," you said as you paced the length of your hotel room.
Harry, who sat on his bed, the one mere feet from yours, shrugged. "I don't see a need to, honestly."
You couldn't believe how nonchalant he was being. You and Harry had never expressed any romantic feelings for each other. You'd known each other for ages, and of course you thought he was attractive—who wouldn't?—but that was it. There were never any heated glances, no longing gazes while the other wasn't looking, no hugs that lasted too long to be anything other than friendly. You were friends, nothing more, and what had just happened changed everything.
Unless...
"You're right," you found yourself saying. "It was just a heat of the moment thing. We—We just got excited, that's all."
You were ready for Harry to agree with you. You were ready to agree to forget about the kiss, to never mention it again, pretend it never happened. That was the only logical option in your mind, unless you wanted to throw years of friendship down the drain. You didn't want to be a cliche, and you didn't think Harry wanted to either.
Plus, there was the other thing, but you didn't want to even think about that right now.
"Did we?" Harry asked. He looked amused as he tracked your movements, one hand playing with his bottom lip as if he was trying to cover up a smile.
"What do you mean—Of course we did. You're you and I—and he—Stop looking at me like that!"
This time, Harry didn't even try to hide his grin, dimples set deep in his cheeks as he laughed. "Like what?"
"Like you—" Like you want to sleep with me, you thought but didn't say. That was even more dangerous territory. "Like you don't regret what we did."
"We kissed, Y/n, we didn't kill someone," Harry said.
Right, you thought. This was normal for Harry. He probably didn't think twice about it because he was constantly kissing people. Well, not constantly, but definitely more than you did. Your brother made sure of that.
"You're right, sorry," you said. "So we'll just forget it happened then, right? We can just go back to—"
"Hold on a minute, I didn't say that."
For the first time since you kissed him, you looked at Harry directly. "Excuse you?"
"I don't regret what happened," Harry said, standing up slowly. "Do you?"
"Yes! I mean we're friends, and your best friend is—"
"Let's leave that out of the equation. Just for a second," he said. For every step he took toward you, you took one back. "That wasn't just in the heat of the moment, Y/n. I think we both know that."
"It—It was. We were celebrating and got carried away—"
"See, I'd believe you if you hadn't used tongue."
"You used tongue first!"
"And you moaned."
"It was a sound of surprise from the use of said tongue!"
Harry took another step closer, and once your back hit the wall, you had nowhere left to go. He was close enough that you could smell his cologne, sweet and a little smoky. His eyes were intense as they stared down at you, expression unreadable as he looked you up and down.
Since you met him, Harry had been hard to read. He was naturally quiet, never giving much away unless he was more than a few drinks in. Not to mention the first few years of knowing him that you'd gotten to know each other more. You only knew him through your brother, who was more than happy to stick you with the annoying little sister role, despite only being a year younger than him.
There was a point in time where you might've had a crush on Harry. You remembered watching him on TV at night and liking his voice and his smile and curly hair. Your brother had gone and ruined it of course when you met for the first time, teasing you about said crush, and you went so out of your way to convince everyone that you didn't that you succeeded perhaps a little too well. But now you knew Harry better. He wasn't some boy who sang on television anymore. Well, he was, but he was so much more than that now, his fame growing wild and beyond anything you could comprehend.
"Was it a bad kiss?" he asked suddenly.
That was a question you didn't expect. "What? N—No, it was fine—"
"Fine? Just fine?" Harry repeated. "What's a guy got to do to be better than fine?"
"That's not what matters!" you said, growing exasperated. "It should never have happened in the first place. You're my brother's best friend, you're—you're his bandmate!"
Niall had an embarrassing amount of rules when it came to you and his friends. Not that you thought they were ever really necessary, though now you weren't so sure. Half the boys were already in relationships anyway, and Harry was...well, he was Harry. As long as you'd known him, he'd never had a long term relationship. You didn't know why, and you were never close enough to him to ask. But the more famous he, and One Direction, became, the more...larger than life he seemed. Or maybe it was that you were in the perpetual space of being Niall's little sister that you'd just automatically written him off as someone who wouldn't be interested in you.
Either way, whatever was happening now was nerve-inducing. And scary. And making you feel things you weren't sure you wanted to feel.
"Is there an area I could improve in? Like specifically? Or was it the overall kiss that was mediocre? I'm really trying to wrap my head around this," he said. "Not to be rude, but I normally don't get many complaints."
"How are you being so—so unbothered right now?" you asked.
"I don't know, I just know that I liked kissing you," Harry said with a shrug. "And that I'd like to do it again. If not for the sake of kissing you then to at least improve from fine to enjoyable."
"Oh my God, the kiss was better than fine, okay? It was probably the best kiss I've had in a while. Best kisser in all of London. You're a proper Casanova," you admitted with a huff, knowing Harry wouldn't let that one detail go. "Happy?"
"Very. So...want to do it again?"
"No!"
"Why?"
Was he whining? "Because—"
"Okay, all of the stuff about your brother and my bandmate and how this probably isn't a stellar idea aside, you can't tell me you don't want to," he said. His eyes searched yours, looking for an answer in them before you said it. "I meant what I said, Y/n. I don't tend to do things I'll regret, and I don't regret kissing you."
That face, you thought. It was too beautiful, too distracting to make you think straight. Harry was all sharp angles and high cheekbones and long hair now, it wasn't fair. You didn't stand a chance against it all. Especially when his big green eyes almost seemed to plead with yours.
Deep down—maybe not even that deep, quite shallow, actually—you knew you enjoyed the kiss too, and not just because Harry was objectively good at it. It was him, it was the pesky feelings that erupted and took root inside you when you first slid your lips against his. Perhaps the kiss had started out as a heat of the moment thing—an overemotional celebration after watching a particularly intense football match after running into each other in London. You were there on holiday and he was home during his time off. You found yourselves spending they say together, finding comfort in each other's familiarity.
You'd never meant to spend the whole day with him, you'd never meant to invite him to your room to watch football and order room service, you'd never meant to kiss him after a goal scored. Yet you did, and you had, and it was hard to cross back over to ignorance and bliss when you knew what it felt like to have Harry's lips on yours.
"We can't tell him," you said. "Not yet. Not until we know what we're doing. He'll kill you."
"I know," Harry said, his fingers coming up to play with a strand of your hair. "When do you go back home?"
"In a few days, but—Fuck."
"What? Changed your mind already?"
"No, I just—I'm coming with you. On tour," you said, eyes widening. "It was Niall's graduation gift to me. Some time off traveling before I get a job and everything."
"Okay, well that's—that's an obstacle for a few days from now. Let's just—unless you don't want to anymore—I mean, I can go if—"
"Who's nervous now?" you teased.
"Not nervous, just being extra sure. Got a lot to live up to, being the best kisser in the world and everything."
"Pretty sure I said London."
"Pretty sure we don't need to debate it anymore," Harry said, bringing your arms up to wrap around his neck. "You can just kiss me now instead."
The movement felt almost too natural, his hair soft beneath your fingertips as you leaned in, putting you both out of misery and kissing him for the second time.
It was just as good, if not better than the first time you kissed him earlier. Harry's lips were incredibly soft, gentle but sure. Your body molded perfectly against his, feeling light as his hands roamed up and down your back, through your hair, on your hips. You felt those same butterflies from before, the ones that told you you might be feeling more than just lust, but you batted that thought away.
It was way too early to be entertaining those thoughts. You wanted to just enjoy the moment, go with the flow and not lose yourself in he-loves-me-he-loves-me-not. So you pulled him closer, sealed your tongue against Harry's bottom lip, and savored the flavor of his mouth on yours, letting it drown you until you could think about anything else but him.
"We're gonna have fun on tour, I think," Harry breathed, his voice coming out in shallow pants as you kissed along his jaw and up the shell of his ear.
There were a million reasons why you shouldn't, but they all floated away as Harry hoisted you up into his arms, your legs moving instinctively around his waist, leaving just him and a very easy and resounding yes. Your answer came in the form of kissing him once more, your hands tugging eagerly on his hair until every doubt and question was a distant memory.
#harry styles#harry styles blurb#harry styles x reader#harry styles fanfic#harry styles oneshot#harry styles imagine#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x you#harry styles fluff#harry styles writing#harry styles one shot#harry styles fic
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SECRET SECRET - H. JISUNG
KINKTOBER DAY 15 - MULTIPLE ORGASMS + FEMDOM
SUMMARY : you always liked your men weak and pathetic, so no one was shocked to hear that you had a crush on han jisung - the nerdy boy of your physics class. being paired up with him for a project was the perfect opportunity to have him all for you. except that finding a collection of dairies filled with all the fantasises he has about you wasn't part of your plan.
-> pairing : loser!han jisung x fem!reader
-> words count : 2.9k
-> genre : smut
-> warnings : sub!jisung x soft dom!reader, dom/sub dynamic (obviously), overstimulation, han is kind of a pervert, teasing, use of 'good boy' & 'fucktoy', begging, dry humping, marking, dirty talk, teasing, handjob, oral (m. receiving), deepthroating, spitting, cum eating, choking, unprotected sex, creampie
+ the way i'm depicting jisung does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction
-> 18+ content bellow, minors DNI
-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.
-> masterlist | skz masterlist | kinktober 2024
Jisung had never asked for much in life - good grades and friends were all he needed. And he had both. Aside from that, he knew he had a reputation around campus - for being a loser, a nerd who loved anime. But Jisung didn’t mind it, that way people left him alone and he lived peacefully. That was until you entered the equation. The first time he caught a glimpse of you during the first physics class of the semester, he was immediately hooked. And from then on, he developed some kind of obsession over you.
He would always stare at you during your shared classes, would always remember very clearly what outfit you wore everyday of the week, would always notice the tiniest change in your emotions or appearance. Jisung knew he was being obvious, that everyone had noticed how he looked at you with puppy eyes, fascinated by your mere existence. And he didn’t want you to think he was a loser, so he did his best not act like the nerd he usually was when you were around.
Obviously, you knew about Jisung’s crush on you too, everyone knew. And to be honest, you didn’t mind it. At first, you only thought it was cute how pathetically in love he was. And as time went on, as you tried to engage in discussion with him during your shared classes, you came to like him too. You always had a thing for boys who were kind of losers, and Jisung was no exception to this rule. The way his big glasses sat on the bridge of his pretty nose, the way his cheeks were covered in pink everytime you talked to him, the way his gummy smile made you want to crack one too - everything in him was too cute to resist.
But despite your efforts to show some kind of interest in him, Jisung didn’t make a move. He was too shy to do so, and moreover, he had convinced himself that you were only being friendly to him out of pity. Even if every one of his interactions with you nourished his daily fantasies and his already huge crush on you, he didn’t make a move. So when you got paired up with him for the next presentation you had to do for your physics class, you thought it was the perfect opportunity to spend some more time with him and hopefully get him to confess his feelings to you.
“- Do you want something to drink ? I made some tea earlier, I didn’t know what you’d like...”
You looked back to Jisung who was playing with his fingers anxiously, his voice quiet and shy. You smiled at him reassuringly, your urge to make him yours even bigger now that you had a view of how cute he could really be.
“- I could use some tea, yeah. Thank you Jisung, that’s so sweet.”
His cheeks took a darker shade of red at your compliments, and he only nodded at you because he wasn’t sure if he could talk without embarrassing himself. You watched him go to the kitchen to prepare your drink, and you decided that it was time for a break. You let your eyes wander around his room - a typical nerd room with posters, anime figurines, mangas on every shelf. But apart from that, it was way much cleaner than any other boy on campus.
Your eyes catched something picking out from underneath his bed, and you frowned as you tried to understand what it was. Truly, you knew that it was a bad idea, that you shouldn’t stick your nose into his business, but your curiosity was stronger. You grabbed the unknown object, which was in fact a shoe box that was quite heavy. Maybe you should’ve stopped there, but you didn’t. You opened the box to discover tons of notebooks that looked like diaries by the dates written on the spine. You took the most recent one and opened it to a random page, and as you slowly understood the meaning of the words, your eyes progressively widened in surprise.
“- Sorry I took so long, I couldn’t find th-”
Jisung cut himself off as he saw you there, reading his diary, visibly shocked, the two glasses of iced tea almost slipping out of his hands. You looked up at him, the same surprise written all over your face, and Jisung felt shame wash over him immediately.
“- Jisung… What is all of this ?
- I… I’m sorry…”
The poor boy seemed on the verge of tears, his big eyes filled with regret, and you softened to the sight. But Jisung couldn’t stop cursing himself out. It was already bad to be a pervert and write down all his fantasies about you, but it was even worse that you had discovered it. Why couldn’t he hide this box better when he knew you were coming over ? He lowered his head, ready for you to swear at him, to tell him that he was disgusting.
“- Jisung, look at me.”
Your voice didn’t hold any trace of anger or reproach, but Jisung still hesitated before he listened to you, his glossy eyes falling into your gentle ones.
“- Can you explain to me what this is ?”
Your tone was encouraging, almost comforting, and yet there was a firmness in it that encouraged Jisung to spit it out.
“- I… This is gonna sound like I’m a pervert but I… I have a crush on you… A-And I just couldn’t stop thinking about you, and I needed to say it somewhere so I started to write it down, and I’m so fucking sorry Y/N, I should’ve… I should’ve never done that, I’m sorry…”
You stayed silent as Jisung explained himself, nobbind along to his words. You would’ve never imagined this coming from him, and Jisung would’ve never imagined that you would discover his dirty secret. As you still hadn’t said anything, Jisung anxiously looked at you, calmly flipping through the pages of his dairy. Suddenly, you stopped on one of the entries, a sly smile spreading on your face as you giggled to the words he had written down, making him feel so small and furthermore humiliated.
“- You’re so cute Jisung. You really want to “become my fucktoy” ?”
It was as if his brain malfunctioned, both from you calling him cute - you really thought that he was cute even after having read all the dirty things he wrote about you ? Unbelievable - and from you quoting his desperate, horny dream. But if it was his chance to prove to you how much he liked you, how desperate he was for every crumb of your attention, of your touch, he was going to take it.
“- I… I… Yes, yes, please…”
Your smile only widened as you heard his begs, putting away the box and the dairy as you gestured for him to come closer to where you were sitting on the edge of his bed. Having you in his room was already nerve wracking enough for Jisung, but this whole situation was on another level. He gulped down as he put down the two glasses of ice tea that you would most likely not drink now, and he approached you with careful steps, still convinced that this was only another one of his wet dreams and that he was going to wake up sooner or later.
“- Relax baby, I’m not gonna hurt you, only going to make you feel good, yeah ?”
Jisung’s brain malfunctioned again, and you chuckled as you saw him staring at you with wide eyes, his plump lips that you had wanted to kiss for so long parted but no words coming out of it. You slowly reached for his hand, pulling him to sit down on the bed instead of you as you straddled his lap, your clothed heat pressing against the obvious boner deforming his pants. Jisung inhaled sharply, a pathetic whine falling from his lips as he looked at you with the same starstrucked expression.
“- Are you okay with this Jisung ?”
Your fingers were brushing against his cheek, an action that made his heart race in his chest. And your lips were only inches away from his, making it hard for him to think straight.
“- Y-Yes, yes, please, Y/N…”
You didn’t let him say anything else as you crashed your lips against his in a messy, hungry kiss. Jisung closed his eyes immediately, letting the sensations sink in as he tried to kiss you back with the same eagerness. Having the girl of his dreams devouring his mouth wasn’t part of his plans, but he wasn’t going to complain. His hands hesitantly took place on your hips, and you sighed in his mouth at the contact, starting to roll your hips against his boner like some kind of reward.
Jisung moaned into your mouth, which allowed you to come play with his tongue, deepening the kiss. Before long, Jisung was breathless, a whimpering and shaking mess as you only intensified the pressure of your hips against his. The situation excited you too, the way Jisung was reacting to every one of your touches so vividly, the way he was so sensitive and horny for you making you lose your mind as well.
“- Y-Y/N… I’m… I-I think I’m gonna cum…”
His cheeks had only grown redder, whines and pants escaping from his mouth as you were busy marking his neck up and down. You hummed against his skin, sucking one more purple spot on him before you bit into the flesh, proudly smirking at your masterpiece.
“- Yeah ? Think you’re gonna cum just like that ?”
He nodded at you with his eyes squeezed shut. He didn’t want to cum so soon, he wanted you to play with him again, and again, until he had nothing more to give you, until you were completely satisfied. But the way you were rocking your hips against his, and the way you were slightly tugging on his hair, and the way you were making him yours - all of that was sending him into another world, made the knot in his stomach tighten even as he tried his best to hold back, to stop you.
“- Then go on, baby. Cum. Show me how good you can be for me.”
A pitiful high-pitched whine escaped Jisung's lips as he came in his pants, burying his face in the crook of your neck and clinging to you as you helped him ride out his high, letting him buck up into you to try and get even more of that delicious friction. He was so cute, with his face all red and his big eyes still shining with lust as you cupped his face to force him to look at you again.
“- Such a good boy for me… Did it feel good, baby ?
- Fuck… Yes, felt so good, so fucking good…”
His voice came out shaky and choked, barely above a whisper as his gaze zeroed on your lips. A grin spread on your face as you got closer to him, until your lips could brush against his, but you didn't kiss him, giggling as he chased your mouth. But soon enough, he was interrupted by yet another moan as you had started to move again on top of him. And your smile widened as you felt him harden underneath you again, his whines even more desperate and needy than a few minutes ago.
“- Y-Y/N…
- What is it, baby ? Don’t you want to be my fucktoy ? Don’t you want to be my good boy ? Don’t you want to let me play with you ?”
Your dirty words were his last straw, rock hard again in his soiled underwear, his hands now boldly grabbing your waist and pressing you down on him to hump you like a dog.
“- Please… P-Please don’t stop…”
You smiled at him, pecking his lips before you got off of his lap, ignoring his whines and protestations as you settled on the floor, in between his legs. Jisung’s eyes were wide open, his cock throbbing at the sight of your position and what it suggested. You giggled as he hurriedly got rid of his pants and underwear without even waiting for your next instructions, watching intently as you reached for his length, stroking him slowly, your thumb brushing against his tip and making him whine under his breath.
“- You’re gonna let me do whatever I want, right baby ?”
Jisung nodded eagerly, staring at where you were kneeling on the floor. The view was straight out of his wildest dreams and he didn’t know how to process everything that was happening, his body reacting instead of his mouth to every word you said, to every one of your touches.
“- I need words baby. Tell me you want it.
- Y-Yes, yes please, Y/N, please… Please, I w-want you to touch me more, please…
- Sound so pretty when you beg, Ji. You deserve a reward, don’t you ?”
You didn’t let him have enough time to respond as you took him into your mouth, eliciting a loud, desperate moan for him. At this moment, Jisung wasn’t thinking anymore, only feeling how warm your mouth was, and how good it felt to have you sucking around him. You swiped your tongue around his tip, his cock already dripping with your saliva before you pushed him into your mouth again. Deeper. Until his tip was hitting the back of your throat.
Jisung let out the prettiest sounds - whines for more, whimpers of your name, moans so high pitched you were sure he could be heard through the thin walls. And it only encouraged you to give him more, to bob your head up and down faster, to hollow your cheeks around him and show him how good you could make him feel. You could feel his cock throbbing in your mouth, and by the way his hands were gripping the sheets tightly and how squirmy he had gotten, you knew he was close to cumming. It spurred you on to take him as deep as you could, and the way you gagged around him was enough for Jisung to release into your mouth. And as you came up to kiss him and spit his cum back in his mouth, Jisung thought he had seen what heaven felt like.
“- Felt good baby ?
- Yes, yes, yes ! So good, you’re perfect !”
You smirked at him as you pushed him to lay down on the bed, then climbing on top of him, your clothed pussy pressed against his cock.
“- You’re getting hard again, Ji. You want more ?”
Jisung bit down on his lips as he nodded, but before he could even decide where on your body to place his hands, your own fingers wrapped around his throat, his mouth hanging open as you restricted his breathing.
“- What did I say, baby ? I need words.
- S-Shit… Please, want more…
- Good boy.”
The petname paired with the way you squeezed around his throat tighter made him moan loudly, and your smile widened at the pretty view he offered you. You pushed your underwear aside, rubbing your wet folds against his hard dick. Jisung was all pliant in your hands, his hips bucking up against yours to try and get more friction, his body telling you what he couldn’t because you rendered him unable to talk. You didn’t make him wait any longer, pushing his cock inside of you, throwing your head back and moaning at the feeling.
“- You’re feeling me up so nicely Ji, I’m gonna ruin you.
- Please !”
His voice came out choked, interrupted by the way he moaned every time you clenched down around him. It didn’t take much for you to make him cum again - a little bit of pressure around his neck, your hips rolling in delicious circles on top of him, your warm pussy making him see stars, and your dirty words pushing him over the edge. Jisung needed a moment to catch his breath, to come to terms with what was happening. But you weren’t going to let him do that, starting to move on top of him again.
“- Y-Y/N ! P-Please, I-I can’t, s’too much…”
You hummed against his lips, but you didn’t stop, only speeding up your moves. Jisung whined pathetically underneath you, trying to push you off his lap, but you were quick to pin his hands down to the mattress, looking down on him with a smirk on his face. Jisung had never seen a prettiest view, and you had never seen a prettiest sight either - the way he looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky, the way his eyes were filled with desperation, lust and unshed tears, the way pleas were slipping past his lips so easily.
“- Too much ? But you said you were going to let me have my fun, Ji. Said you were going to be my fucktoy, didn’t you ?”
Jisung tried to answer but he was taken by surprise by another orgasm, shooting another load inside of you, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. He still couldn’t believe that this was real, but the way you were trying to get yet another release out of him was convincing enough to think that it maybe wasn’t just a dream. He writhed in overstimulation, but all he wanted to do was to please you, to let you use him until you were satisfied, until you had broken him down to pieces.
“- You can give me one more baby, right ? You’re gonna be a good boy for me ?”
A sob escaped his lips, his pretty rosy cheeks now covered in tears as he nodded, eager to give you everything you wanted. You smirked again, sighing in pleasure as you started to move again, and as Jisung watched you milk him dry, he didn’t regret being a disgusting pervert anymore.
-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.
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Whole thing on A03
It didn't matter how much Steve explained. Not one member of the Party was going to get it.
Tommy and Carol would, but then, they were no longer on speaking terms. A fact that hurt even if it was for the best--particularly in times like these, because they got it.
They understood how he had been ensnared with the very same wealth people mocked him for. What it meant when his parents demanded Steve drop everything and go on vacation, his own plans be damned.
They knew, because their families had done much the same, and so the lives they led also were tethered to leashes made of their parents' design.
Dustin, whose mother bent over backwards to try and better her kid’s life, didn’t even have a frame of reference for this kind of thing, let alone sympathy.
"Do they not understand you have a job?" Dustin asked incredulously, and Steve didn't have the emotional bandwidth to explain that his parents didn't consider working at Family Video to be a real job.
As far as they were concerned, Steve could quit if he had to, and then go find another job when they were done using him to play the nice, All-American family.
Likely for business purposes.
"They aren't the type to care." Steve said instead.
It was easier than getting into it.
(Easier than explaining the BMW wasn't in his name, but his parents.
How his money went into a bank account they had access to.
That practically everything he owned was actually owned by Richard and Stella Harrington, and both were quick to remind him of that fact the second they felt Steve was acting out of line.
And boy, had he been acting out of line.
Getting into fights.
Turning their punishment of working a job they picked specifically for the humiliating outfit, into the far worse public embarrassment of being involved in a mall fire--an embarrassment because Steve had "lost" the keys to the BMW, had "put himself in danger" playing hero instead of letting the perfectly capable firefighters do it, then “paraded around” with bruises all over his face, racking up medical bills.
Truly a sin for someone who hadn’t made it into college.)
So no, this vacation they demanded Steve drop everything for was not anything close to a reward, or even something they were doing to spend time together. There was a reason they needed Steve, and as far as they were concerned, Steve was at their beck and call until he shaped up and got his life back on track.
His own plans be damned.
"That's not fair though!" Dustin burst out and Steve sighed in relief, because here at least, he knew what to do to distract his younger friend.
“We planned our trip months ago!” Dustin continued, looking two seconds away from giving in and stomping his foot.
The kid might have been smarter than Steve--smarter than most people really--by a hell of a lot, but he was still fourteen.
Smarts, Steve knew, didn't exactly equate to emotional intelligence, and it definitely didn't stop rampaging hormones.
Ice cream on the other hand, was a great aid in both areas.
"You better be making this up to us." Dustin threatened thirty minutes later, spoon wedged deep into a sundae. “We can’t do, like, half the stuff we were going to do without you!”
“I'm sure you guys didn’t need me to play ghost runners or whatever.” Steve said, but was quick to back down when Dustin nearly threw his spoon at him.
Rather than antagonizing him more, Steve dutifully raised his hand to put over his heart. "I swear on your mom that I’ll make it up to you.”
Dustin rolled his eyes, but otherwise, finally, let the whole thing go.
Stupidly, Steve thought this meant the worst was over.
He was wrong.
xXx
Mike hadn’t cared.
El and Will hadn’t really either, though both expressed some sadness that Steve wouldn’t be participating in the camping trip that the Party as a whole had been looking forward to for the past few months.
Erica had simply snapped at him, making him promise much the same as Dustin had that he would be making it up to her sometime in the future. Likewise, she had been bought off by ice cream (even if she insisted it didn’t count because Steve owed her ice cream anyways.)
Max was the surprising emotional standout.
"You can't tell them no?" She demanded, arms crossed over her chest.
Lucas was hovering awkwardly at her shoulder, shooting "what can you do?" vibes as hard as he could at Steve as his (currently on-again) girlfriend outright dressed the elder boy down; her shoulders creeping up higher and higher until she seemed to realize she was visually giving away her upset and forcibly relaxed them.
Unlike Dustin and Erica, her tirade was very out of character and Steve was growing more concerned by the second that something was wrong the more she spat at him.
“I mean for fucks sake, didn’t you tell them you had plans!?” She finished, eyes narrowed in rage.
Which was rich coming from someone whose stepdad had Billy Hargrove running all over town before he’d run off after the guy’s death, but then, Steve knew better than to bring all that up.
(The image of Max, unresponsive in the hospital with casts on almost every limb, was still too fresh.
Even now he didn’t like to push her, even if the Party as a whole did their best to take notice when one of them was isolating themselves again.
Max, though she was down to one crutch, was still inclined to use it as a weapon and very much enjoyed practicing her swings on people’s ankles.)
“I did indeed. They don’t care and they’re not giving me a choice, but for what it’s worth I am sorry.” Steve tried to keep his voice even and out of angry-shrieking range, and vaguely prayed it was working. “I swear, I will make it up to you guys, even if we have to go on a second camping trip.”
This was clearly not the correct thing to say.
Though judging by the murderous rage being aimed his way, Steve was pretty sure nothing short of “You know what you’re right, let me go tell my parents to fuck off!” would make Max happy.
“So you’re seriously just going to drop everything, all our plans, your job, us,” She took a very threatening step forward and despite her being a full foot shorter than him, Steve had to fight not to take a responding step back. “So you can go play rich boy in the Bahamas?”
“We’re not going to the Bahamas--” Steve tried, but was interrupted with a loud “ugh!” of disapproval.
“Whatever makes you happy, Steven.” Max spat, and then turned on her heel, storming off towards the rest of the Party (who had taken one look at Max’s face and fled into the arcade so she and Steve could “talk.”) “I’m sorry us peasants weren’t good enough to hang around!”
“Sorry man.” Lucas apologized quietly, on his way to run after Max.
Steve just scrubbed a hand through his hair and sighed.
xXx
“The kids are mad at you.” Nancy announced, appearing across the Family Video counter like a phantom.
Steve swore, nearly dropping his stack of VHS’s, while Robin (who had clearly seen Nancy approach) cackled at his fumble.
“Yeah, I did get that memo.” Steve said, after he stabilized his stack, safely moving them from his arms to the counter.
Nancy peered around them, her face giving away nothing. “It is kind of shitty to cancel at the last minute like that. We were relying on you to drive.”
An old fury shook itself awake in Steve’s chest, taking an interest in the conversation the second Steve realized what Nancy was here to do.
He took a deep, shuddering breath, and pressed it down, back into the box he’d slammed it in all those years ago.
“I’d leave the keys to Robin here, but unfortunately, someone failed their drivers test.” Steve said instead, jamming his finger over his shoulder and blatantly attempting to pass the buck.
Robin, who absolutely knew that was what he was doing, faked a gasp and kicked at his ankles.
“That crotchety asshole failed me on purpose!” She protested, spinning to face Nancy. “He made like, three misogynistic comments before we even got in the car!”
“Pointing out that he knew the car wasn’t yours wasn’t misogynistic, he was just surprised to see me letting you use the Beemer.” Steve shot back, rolling his eyes. “I don’t exactly let a lot of people drive it.”
Unspoken was that Steve’s BMW was one of the town’s more unique cars, and thus easily identifiable by the locals at large.
“How is that better!?” Robin returned, but Nancy cleared her throat before they could successfully get the Steve-and-Robin show on the road.
“The point is that we--but really, the kids, were counting on you.” Nancy said, dipping into her patented “I’m upset with you” tone.
A year ago it would have cut Steve to the bone, even if he didn’t show it.
Now he just stared tiredly at her back.
“I’m sorry, Nance, but it is what it is.” He said simply, hoping the apology (even if he knew it wasn’t so much a real apology as it was something he said to keep the rage from breaking out and wrecking havoc via his mouth) would soften his ex. “I don’t know what else to tell you.”
Given the abrupt narrowing of her eyes, it very much did not help his case.
“For someone who was so vocal about trying to change I have to say this is pretty disappointing.” Nancy said simply, but with just enough of a tone that Steve had to close his eyes for a second.
Feel the way that old anger, the one that had powered King Steve, hit the bars of its cage.
Robin stilled immediately next to him, her head ping-ponging between Steve and Nancy both as she too, clocked that Nancy was pissed, and here to chew Steve out about it.
“Um.” She said, voice going high in discomfort.
Steve grit his teeth. “I don’t exactly get a say in these things, Nancy. You know that.”
He had to work to keep his voice even, fighting against the ice that wanted to sharpen his own tone.
It was just---Nancy did know.
Steve had told her all those years ago, in the safety of her arms, about his parents' expectations. Their predetermined path, the way they dictated large swathes of his life.
How they’d allowed him to pick which sports he played, but required that he play a sport no matter the time of year.
That the pool they had installed wasn’t for him, he just got to use it as much as he did in part because he’d joined the swim team, and the kind of mental mind games he and his parents played about things like that.
Apparently either Nancy had forgotten, or simply hadn’t taken it in to begin with because she wasn’t backing down.
(Not that Steve had ever seen Nancy Wheeler back down.)
“I know you have trouble juggling your parents' plans with your own.” Nancy said, and her tone was absolutely icy now. “I certainly remember waiting for a date that never happened.”
Steve sucked in a breath through his teeth, knowing immediately what Nancy was referring to.
“I told you they came home unexpectedly.” He said, arms now crossed against his chest, nails digging into his arms as a way to help himself stay grounded. “They wouldn’t let me use the phone until the next day and I apologized.”
“And I recall having a lovely conversation with your mother where she said otherwise.” Nancy said, her words punctuated by another high pitched “Uhhhh.” from Robin.
“Funny how you believe my mom over me.” Steve said and whoops, yup, he definitely sounded mad now.
So much for all the effort he’d put in to staying calm.
“Because I look at actions, Steve. Patterns. The same ones you kept repeating.” Nancy was clearly about to escalate, and Robin, bless her, had had enough.
“He-eeey.” She said, wedging herself in between Steve and the counter Nancy was starting to lean over. “I totally get it, you’re both upset, but this maybe isn’t the venue to fight about it? There are customers in the store and--sorry Nancy--but I do kinda need Steve for work, so…”
She trailed off, glancing nervously between the two of them.
Nancy took a breath, blasting it out of her mouth like an academically inclined dragon. “You’re right. I’m sorry Robin.”
She then turned on her heel, making her way to the doors. She paused before them, and Steve prepared himself because he knew whatever she was going to say next, it was going to hurt.
“I wouldn’t care if it was just me, Steve, but the kids don’t deserve you pulling this shit. Not after all they’ve been through.” With that, Nancy pushed through the door, head held high as she stormed to her car.
As was typical for Nancy’s aim, she scored a direct hit.
Steve, somehow, resisted throwing things.
“Can you believe her!?” He said, the second the doors were closed and Nancy safely out of eyeshot. “Coming in here like that!?”
He ran his hand through his hair, once, twice.
A third time for good measure.
“Yeah, that was seriously public for her.” Robin agreed, sliding up next to him. “Like really public.”
Steve shrugged, because well. Not really.
Not anymore.
But Robin didn’t know that, just like Robin wasn’t entirely familiar with the depths Steve’s parents went to save face. They hadn’t exactly had time to really dig into it all, given how fast the Vecna situation had hit after Starcourt and the sheer PTSD both incidents had caused.
Most nights they spent together was spent trying to avoid reliving nightmares, not discussing ones they were currently still living in.
A fact that Steve was more than happy to bring her up to speed on, but to do so involved a lot of backstory, and backstory involved Nancy, and God, he was fucking pissed at Nancy.
Soon it was an hour into his rant and he hadn’t actually gotten around to the sheer level of shit his parents would pull, too busy with Nancy and old echoes of ‘bullshit.’
He only stopped when Robin put a hand on his shoulder, shaking him ever so slightly.
“Dingus. You know I love you, and I know you’ve changed, but you do gotta admit, canceling at the last minute is kinda shitty and I get why they’re upset.”
It was like the carpet had been pulled right out from under Steve, yanked so quickly he’d have to pinwheel to keep his feet.
“What?” He said, eyes round in sheer surprise.
“I just mean like, I get your parents are dicks but,” Robin’s face screwed up, looking like she’d sucked a lemon. It was her “I’m going to say something you don’t like face” and it hit Steve like a punch to the gut.
“Our shift’s almost over and no offense, you’ve started to repeat yourself about Nance, and I get it! I do, memory shit is hard!” Robin’s hands moved as she talked, her bracelets jingling as if punctuating her point.
“But I also think admitting you double booked yourself on accident and just taking responsibility for it would help smooth things over. Middle ground, you know?” Robin waggled her hands in a gesture that, for the first time in a long time, Steve didn’t understand.
He found himself suddenly struggling to breathe.
“Are you--are you saying you think I didn’t tell them I had a trip already planned?”
Steve wasn’t sure how he managed to get it out. Wasn’t sure how he was doing anything, given the heat that was shooting through him, a hot mix of confusion and betrayal as Robin fidgeted to his left.
“No! Okay well,” The lemon face got worse for a second. “I’m just saying you did kinda forget to pick me up that one time, and you do kinda blame your parents when stuff like that happens.” She bit a nail, peering at him out of the corner of her eyes.
“I don’t--” Steve said, completely knocked adrift. “I…”
Robin didn’t believe him.
His Robin.
Who wasn’t--wasn’t exactly siding with Nancy, but wasn’t saying she was wrong either, or that she understood that this shit was out of his control, and in fact, was kind of implying that Nancy was right more so than Steve was and---and--
There was a ringing in Steve’s ears he wasn’t sure actually existed.
“I’m sure a lot of it is your brain injury. The doctors said your short term memory can take a while to fully come back and I totally get why you don’t wanna say that, I just, I think it would be better if--Steve?” Robin jumped back as Steve finally found his footing, swiping his jacket and punching out before she could catch how badly his hands were shaking.
“I’m leaving.” Steve told her, his own words a million miles away, entirely uncaring if Keith fired him.
Keith was likely going to fire him anyway, given Steve was about to ask for a week-long vacation not even four months after the whole Vecna ordeal.
“Wait, Steve, hey--Dingus! I wasn’t done, I mean, I had more to say I, dammit Steve--!” Robin called after him frantically as Steve bolted for the door.
Steve ignored her, aiming for the Beemer and swinging himself numbly into the driver's seat when he got it open.
Put the car in park and avoided Robin’s face entirely as he backed it out, punching the gas far harder than he needed to.
The Beemer roared in response, nose rising as it shot forward.
Robin was his best friend. His fucking--platonic soulmate, as she kept calling him. The very idea that she agreed with Nancy in general was a blow but in this?
Against his parents?
Nausea rolled angrily in Steve’s stomach, matching the sudden wetness that coated his eyes.
Angry and needing an outlet, Steve stomped hard on the gas, taking the next corner far too sharp and making the beemer fishtail, tires squealing .
He didn’t know where he was going.
He figured he’d find out when he got there.
xXx
Given what Steve knew about the universe at large, (nevermind Hawkins) it probably wasn’t the smartest thing to hang around the Quarry at night.
But then, summer was in full swing. Kids were home from college and itching to find a place to party without parental overhead.
Deep to the left side of the water, around a few bends and tucked oh so neatly out of sight, was a place where one could do just that.
Party.
This stretch had long been claimed by the college kids of Hawkins, and guarded zealously for it.
With the sheer number of drunk people whooping and hollering around the bonfires below the ridge where everyone parked their cars, Steve figured he was safe enough.
Even if he was up with said cars, sitting alone.
Not like it mattered. If a demodog or demogorgan or demo-fucking-dragon decided to come along, Steve had half a mind to just let it have him.
It felt easier than trying to fix the current mess his life was in.
So he sat up here, blowing through the alcohol he’d purchased from the one gas station that never carded, drinking his problems away.
(That also wasn’t the best course of action but with his parents home to spring the whole “vacation” ordeal on him, it wasn’t like Steve had a choice.)
He hadn’t grabbed a lot--had been so damn upset and struggling to hide it that he’d picked up a four pack of wine coolers instead of the intended beer he’d wanted. It was all he had though, and so he chugged the last bottle with a wince and wished he was a hell of a lot drunker than he felt.
Then promptly caught sight of the person walking towards him, and wondered vaguely if he was drunker than he felt.
Of all the people to come and offer him a can of beer, Steve would have never expected Tommy Hagan.
He eyed it and his old friend both, before slowly reaching out and taking the can.
“Heard you and your parents are doing CoHo this year.” Tommy said casually, leaning up against the front of the Beemer like it was old times.
“Yup.” Steve replied, drawing the word out.
“Angie Tideman’s parents are going, they’re bringing her ith .” Tommy said it casually, and had the good graces not to grin when Steve audibly groaned.
“Oh god.”
Tommy sucked on a lip, nodding absently. “Yeah.”
Then; “It gets worse.”
Steve, who now knew what this conversation was about, instantly began tearing into the beer can. “How can it get worse? You know what Angie’s like.”
Angie, whose full name was Angelina, lived a few towns over. Born to wealthy parents who doted on their beloved only child, Angie had more in common with your average shark than she did her fellow humans.
A comparison that, frankly, was unkind to sharks.
She was without a doubt the most selfish person Steve had ever had the misfortune of encountering, and the mere idea of being trapped in a room with her made his skin crawl.
Their parents were business buddies though, and god forbid he ever insult a business buddies kid,
“She goes to Purdue, you know, with me and Carol.” Tommy said, instead of answering directly. “We cross paths a lot, party wise.”
Steve stayed silent.
Knew how Tommy talked, how his stories meandered. Especially the juicy ones.
“She’s been talking a lot recently. Given you don’t look all that informed, I’m gonna assume the one person she hasn’t talked to is you.”
Steve gripped the can of beer, a sudden, sick fear blooming in his gut.
“Tommy.” He said mildly, not loud enough to really interrupt, but with enough force to let his former friend know to get to the point, now.
“Got all super fancy right before we left for summer break. Hair done, whole new wardrobe, nails, you know.” Tommy waggled his fingers playfully, but dropped them when Steve just stared. “Went full whore on us. I swear she was making out with any guy who even looked at her--”
“Tommy.” He repeated, this time a hell of a lot firmer.
Done pushing, Tommy let go of the proverbial bombshell. “Apparently you’re planning on proposing to her this summer. She’s gonna return next year as an engaged woman, with you in tow, because apparently, you got into Purdue. Congrats by the way.”
Tommy clapped him on the shoulder, right as Steve’s mouth went dry.
For the second time that day, he found himself fighting the burning heat of embarrassment and fury as it rolled through him.
“I’m proposing.” Steve said, as if saying it out loud would scare the very idea away. “To Angie.”
“Yeah we kinda figured you didn’t know.” Tommy said with a snide little grin. To the average outsider it was mocking, but Steve knew better.
Tommy was uncomfortable, because Tommy had understood what Steve’s parents had done.
“What I’d like to know is just how much Angie’s parents paid to get you into Purdue. That’s gotta be a minimum fifty thousand dollar donation at least.” Tommy removed his hand, to instead lean his shoulder against Steve’s. Like this was the old times, before they’d fought. “ I didn’t think they had that kind of money to throw around.”
A past conversation with his father struck Steve, running through the front of his mind like a bad horror movie.
“They sold the estate.” Steve said vacantly, the implications not quite hitting. “The one they’ve been trying to get rid of forever, over in Cape Cod.”
“Oh shit.” Tommy said, blinking as he too, recalled what was likely his father telling him the very same news.
“They sold the place on Cape Cod, and they used part of the funds to fucking buy me like a toy.” And yeah, saying it out loud, it definitely sounded bad. “I didn’t think Angie even liked me.”
“Does Angie like anyone?” Tommy asked, incredulously, but nudged Steve’s shoulder again when his joke didn’t net him the laugh he wanted.. “I mean, you had to know your old man had plans to straighten you out. He keeps getting mad at my dad, because the ass won't stop making jokes that I’m going to take over the company instead of you.”
“And this is it. Attaching me to Angie.” Steve said vacantly. “Because they know if I get married…”
He’d put his wife first. His family, first.
The one he’d wanted, dreamed of, since he first realized he didn’t have one.
He’d been playing checkers the entire time, too busy fighting fucking monsters and Russians to realize his parents had upgraded to chess.
In a dizzying array of mental connect-the-dots, Steve replayed the last years worth of conversations. All the odd little things they’d said. All the dumb things Steve had just ignored.
They’d warned him.
Had told him he better shape up, or they’d be forced to do something drastic.
That his parents hadn’t wasted all this time, effort, money on him, for him to throw away his life like he was.
“You better start acting right and figuring out how to get your life back on track, because you won’t like what happens if I have to fix it for you. You get a month Steven, and after that? Well. Just remember you forced my hand, Steven.”
They knew. They knew him, and what made him tick.
“I think the real question is what Angie’s parents see in you.” Tommy teased, but then they both knew the answer to that puzzle.
For all that Steve’s mom complained about her husband, the guy was a shrewd and calculating businessman. Those weekends, then weekdays, then more and more time away hadn’t just been so he could go screw his secretary.
Richard Harrington had fast tracked his business to the point where it was now getting attention. The business journal, ‘Top 50 Companies to Watch’ kind.
Even if Steve fucked up entirely, he was set to inherit a fortune and a business that would continue adding to it, for some time to come.
Provided he did what his parents wanted.
Such as marrying Angie.
Thing was, if his parents did what they always did, and held their wealth (his car, his home, his life and all the little things in it) against him like a gun to his head, if Angie got that ring around her finger?
Steve would bow to their whims.
Because they could fluster him into proposing so he didn’t embarrass Angie, and her parents and anyone else who’d undoubtedly be watching. They’d make a spectacle of it.
Because once he did propose, they wouldn’t let him back out, burying him under guilt trips and veiled threats until he was marched down the aisle in a groomsman suite and told to stand.
Because against all common sense, Steve wanted a family who loved him so desperately he’d chase it like a dog if he was presented with the opportunity and told to make it work.
It didn’t matter that Angie was selfish.
Steve would try anyway.
His parents were maneuvering him as easily as they had back when he was a kid, using love as a tool to get him to do what they wanted and even seeing the nose hanging from the rafters, they knew just the right words to get him to place it around his neck.
“Thought you’d wanna know.” Tommy finished, pushing himself off Steve’s car. “Before your parents sprung it on you.”
“Sonofabitch.” Steve hissed angrily, a million thoughts racing through his head, the heat of being caught in a trap blasting down his spine.
“Yeah.” Tommy added, rather unhelpfully. “But hey, given that you’re about to go on vacation to propose, why don’t we consider this,” here Tommy swept his hand, gesturing to the party below, “your proposal party?”
It was a downright horrible idea.
But then, Steve didn’t exactly have a better one.
Not when the world itself seemed against him, grinding its heel into his back and laughing about it.
He knew the drill. If he went down there, arm in arm with Tommy, then it wouldn’t matter that half those kids were from a few towns over, driven in by new college buddies.
They’d see him as a reason to get wild, absolutely uncaring that they didn’t know who the hell he was.
Steve needed that.
People who weren’t mad at him, buying into the easy lies his parents wove, or who didn't understand the games played against him.
“Fuck it.” He announced, standing up from the hood of his car as Tommy’s grin morphed into something he used to see in the days of old, back when they were sneaking drinks from their parents' alcohol cabinets. “This way at least I get a party.”
Not like his parents were going to let him have an engagement party. Or a bachelor party, or likely let his ass back into Hawkins.
No matter how long the engagement.
Tommy cheered, raising his arms to the sky and Steve grinned wildly with him.
He’d figure out how to get out of all this later--but for now, he wanted just a few damn hours where he didn’t have to think.
Not about his parents, or Angie, or possible attempts to force him into marriage, like this was the yee olden days and Steve was a Victorian maiden who needed to be brought to heel.
Likewise he didn’t want to think about the Party, or Russian torture, or how Nancy could be so damn smart in some things and downright stupid in others.
He absolutely didn't want to think about Robin.
“Hey boys and girls, look who I drug up!” Tommy yelled as they approached and soon, word had spread.
This was Steve’s proposal party, and he was here to get absolutely smashed (while encouraging everyone else to do the exact same, in his honor.)
Which would be how Eddie found him a few hours later.
Still at the quarry, crossfaded off his ass, a forty in one hand and a lawn dart in the other.
“Are you kidding me, Steve?” Eddie grit out, desperately trying to wrestle the lawn dart out of his hand. “You’re fucking partying with Tommy Hagan!?”
Steve blinked at him a few times, finally catching on that Eddie was in fact, actually there.
“When did you show up?” He asked, though given the wince on Eddie’s face and just how hard it had been to move his lips, Steve correctly assumed he’d slurred the shit out of the question.
Somehow, Eddie understood him anyway.
“Robin called me a while ago, gave me a list of places you might be. Almost skipped this one until I stepped out of my van to take a piss and heard the party.” Eddie explained, and somehow while doing so, he’d successfully gotten a hold of the dart.
He was now working on removing the 40 ounce.
Steve frowned, using his newly freed hand to grip it closer to his chest.
“Harrington.” Eddie warned, and oh, wow, they were back to last names huh?
Well why not, it wasn't like his night could get worse.
“This is mine, Munson.” Steve fired back, putting as much vitriol into Eddie’s last name as he could.
This did not detour the metalhead.
“Come on man, give me the bottle.” Eddie said firmly.
Steve shook his head stubbornly, enjoying the way his hair whipped at his face. “No.”
Another man stumbled over, a guy Steve absolutely did not know. He frowned, looking between Eddie and Steve.
For two seconds, Steve thought they might have trouble, and given the way Eddie was tensing, he clearly thought so too.
Instead, New Guy just kind of rocked on his heels. “Hey, shove off it, buddy. It’s this guy's bachelor party, let the man drink!”
Eddie’s face did something complicated then, pulling the sort of expressive looks only he could manage.
It was both adorable and hilarious, and if Steve hadn’t just been reminded of the very reason he was drinking, he’d have told Eddie so.
“Yeah!” He said instead, raising his hand in the air, toasting his bottle of forty against the other guy’s red solo cup. “It’s my proposalengagmentbachelor party!”
Given the second, adorable-slash-hilarious look on Eddie’s face, Steve assumed those words hadn’t come out right either.
“Okay.” Eddie said hands on his hips in a stance Steve was pretty sure Eddie had gotten from him. “Here’s what's going to happen. You’re going to put the bottle away. Then you’re going to give me your car keys, and then the two of us are going to my house to sleep whatever is happening here, off.”
At least, that's what Steve thought he heard. It was a pretty un-Eddie like speech, and Steve maybe, might have been the one to say it, because he maybe, might have been mocking what Eddie had actually said.
Maybe.
It was hard to know, given that Steve’s thoughts were a thick soup on a bit of a time delay, and he was having a hard time figuring up from down, let alone what Eddie had been actually saying.
Speaking of;
“When did I get into your car?” Steve asked, blinking as the van’s passenger seat appeared before him.
“Just now.” Eddie said, helping him in.
“Huh.” Said Steve, and then he maybe passed out a bit, because once again, he found himself awake and alert at a place that wasn’t where he’d just been.
“Come on.” Eddie said gently, one of Steve’s arms over his shoulder as Steve leaned heavily into him, guiding the jock up the stairs and into the small house he and Wayne now called a home.
The guy might have muttered a few things about bachelor parties along the way, but Steve was too focused on walking straight to really take notice.
Part Two
#lol remember when I said I wasnt posting parts to stuff until they were finished#THAT SURE LASTED LONG#pre steddie#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#0o0 fanfics#This is very Steve focused#TW his horrible parents#VERY hurt#comforts later#with eddie!#I really wanted to explore Steves Parents#in proper Rich Asshole Controling fashion#TW forced marriage#or mentions of#I also wanted to explore a lot of how the kids#and Nancy and Robin (who are also STILL kids#would react because sure they came up against monsters and the government#but neither of those things want you to like them#theyll let you know theyll eat you#Steves parents#like many rich dicks#want to isolate#want you to think theyre amazing#and its often the inner circle who knows whats up but are also caught in their own chokechain#hence the title of this fic#whiiiich is chokechain#stranger things#tw drinking
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Every time I hear someone much older than me talking about how their shame about their bodies and weight have robbed them of all kinds of fun experiences and simple joys and delights in life, it breaks my fucking heart. Older women, in particular, have been shamed into and forced into (and perpetuated themselves) so many stupid narratives about what one "can't do" if you look a certain way. Sometimes they don't even notice it...they'll just casually be saying something like, "I would have loved to play volleyball back in school but this big ass wasn't going to look right in those shorts tee hee" and I'm like that's??? actually??? tragic???????? Especially when it's something they COULD still pursue or try but they've got a fixed mindset about it.
My 84 year old aunt really spent all of her 30s-60s believing that she COULDN'T just put on a swimsuit and enjoy the water in the summer. I have so many memories of this mindset affecting her all summer. Just casually existing by a pool in a swimsuit was something that women who looked like her Could Not Do. This is someone who broke so many gender barriers in her field, who was a pioneer and a bad ass, but who held herself back from something she truly enjoyed for DECADES because she's fat. A couple of years ago she told me how stupid she feels having thought like that now that her age has changed her mobility and safety in going to a pool and it's no longer literally possible for her to do so.
She bought the bullshit and deprived herself of happiness when it was possible, so she lost her chance at hundreds of moments of simple enjoyment she now looks back on sadly.
Really sadly.
I think this is a topic where we can literally see a huge generational change among society right now. The bitchy boomer who says something like, "oh she should NOT be wearing that" when a happy, chunky Gen Zer bops by in a crop top sounds like the death rattles of an ancient relic to most of us in younger generations. After we get over the overt hate that surges when we hear things like that, most of us can see right through that prickly exterior into the deeply damaged, sad, and vulnerable person inside who is the one that's the real problem in the equation.
And yet, while it can be easy to think, "Thank god I'm not like THAT" none of us are truly immune to the messages that are blasted in our faces all the time that still shame fatness and make us feel like we owe society a certain kind of "beauty."
Just keep an eye out for any limiting beliefs you have that are depriving you from joy and delight you want and need. As anyone like my aunt could tell you, you won't someday look back and think, "I sure am glad I didn't do what made me happy all those years!"
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obsession •
stepson!anakin x stepmom!reader
mdni 18+ ~~~~
word count - 3k+
warnings- reader met anakin when he was a minor, age gap, stepson/stepmother, perv!anakin, unprotected piv, praise, sub!anakin/dom!reader, breeding kink, overstimulation, forcing, multiple orgasms (anakin), oral (f recieving), cheating
info - marrying a skywalker definitely wasn’t on your things to do, but when working led you to meet kahn skywalker. your life changed.
until his perv of a son lets you know just how much you mean to him.
not proofread.
dating kahn was fun, you guys have been casually seeing each other for about two months now. nothing serious. just a fling you thought. until kahn mentioned how he wanted you to meet his son, you were taken aback.
"kahn are you serious?" you question.
he smiles, "yes, i want him to know the woman i'm going to marry."
you felt odd, you guys have only been together for maybe two months, this wasn't appropriate.
"kahn, maybe it's too soon" you trail off, peeling at the hangnail on your pointer finger.
kahn's smile falters, "oh" he looks down at his lap, "i'm sorry i didn't think"
you feel bad, he obviously cares about you, and for him to want you to meet his son. he must think of you as special.
you start to smile, "okay, i'll meet him. when do you want to do it?"
kahn lifts his head up, smile plastering his face, "right now?" he says.
again, shock hits your face, "my son should be home from his mothers house any minute now"
you couldn't believe it, he was going to make you meet this kid no matter your answer.
you were mad, rightfully so, but before you could say anything this door swings open.
"dad i'm home"
"anakin, my boy, how are you?" kahn jumps up to greet his son with a hug, releasing the hug kahn turns to a very red faced you sitting on the couch. in a not so "meet the son" outfit.
you had on some short shorts and a tight baby tee.
you were mortified.
"anakin this is the woman i've been telling you about, y/n this is anakin" kahn says not seemingly to notice the discomfort on your face.
you stand to shake the boys hand, not ignoring the fact his eyes rake over your entire body, taking in every curve and arch.
if you weren't embarrassed before, you sure were now.
-
it's been about three months since meeting anakin, and he's been nothing but friendly. you're happy the meeting went so well. you've been spending more time with him. coming over after work when he texts he's having trouble with his calculus homework.
being a 17 year old in high school is hard, he'll say the entire time you try and explain an equation to him.
you would laugh and tell him to focus and get it over with. he'd laugh and turn his attention back to his homework, not forgetting to glance over his arm to watch as your chest moves when you slouch back into the dining room chair.
"ani, im home" kahn's voice is heard from the entry way, "oh honey, i didn't know you'd be here" he says kissing the top of your head.
"little ani here needed help with some homework"
you said, turning to look back at anakin and you swear you saw the grip on his pencil tighten after hearing you use his nickname.
"well, i'll get started on dinner for three. rather then two" kahn says walking back to the kitchen. setting his keys on the island.
anakin finishes his last problem before putting everything away, you get up and start walking to the kitchen to be with your boyfriend before feeling a slight touch in your wrist, turning you face anakin.
his eyes are on the floor, fidgeting with his fingers, "can you come upstairs? i want to show you something" he says with a whisper.
you nod and follow him to his bedroom, the farthest room from the stairs.
stepping inside you take notice to all the knick knacks placed around the room, all the scattered clothes and papers.
you step in first, heading to sit on the end of his bed.
"what's up ani?" you question as he doesn't turn from the door.
you're confused, and question the boy again.
he finally turns to you, eyes a darker shade of blue, something you haven't seen before.
"ani?" you say quietly, but loud enough he hears.
a small groan escapes his throat, "say it again"
"what? anakin what is going on?" you're confused, this isn't typical anakin behavior.
he grabs your hands, rubbing his thumbs across your own.
"please say it again mommy" anakin says just above a whisper, hands gripping just a bit tighter on yours.
you're shocked, in utter disbelief. never once has anakin called you mom, never have you asked him either. this shouldn't be happening.
"ani? what are you talking about?" a soft moan leaves his mouth when you say his nickname again.
"you do crazy things to me" he says, eyes still not meeting yours.
you don't say anything, too confused and shocked to even think of words at this moment, anakin takes notice
"i'm sorry" he says, tears brimming his eyes, looking to the floor
"hey anakin, it's okay, come here." you say bringing him into a hug.
you feel unsettled by what just happened, but to an extent you understand. he's a horny teenager.
"i won't tell your dad, okay?" you say grabbing his chin to make him look at you. his eyes are filled with tears as his face is completely red. tears threatening to fall, "thank you" he says pulling you into another hug, inhaling deeply to never forget your scent.
-
the wedding was beautiful, you never expected to get married to someone so quickly, but kahn skywalker just has that effect. he proposed to you during your seventh month together. getting married very soon after that.
honeymoon was amazing. you and kahn travelled all through greece for a month, before returning to your shared home, with your now stepson.
as soon as you guys stepped in the door, anakin was there to greet you guys, not hiding the fact he went to hug you first. despite his fathers arms out, wrapping your arms around anakins shoulders, you can feel him squeeze slightly as he inhaled deeply.
"missed you so much" he whispers into the crook of your neck, before pulling away and hugging his dad.
you didn't want to admit it, but the butterflies in your stomach was something you enjoyed.
anakins birthday came and went and you had an 18 year old in the house.
he was still the same anakin, sweet and shy, tending to follow you around the house like a lost puppy.
"ani, im gonna shower, i'll make dinner when i'm done" you say to the boy on the couch in front of the tv. he gives a sound so you know he heard you and you went upstairs.
walking to the bathroom, with a change of clothes, and a towel. turning the shower on and stepping in.
you needed this shower after the day you had, work was hell, your manager was berating you all day. you couldn't seem to do anything right.
thirty minutes into the shower you decided it was enough and got out. getting dressed and doing all your nightly routines. you got to grab you dirty laundry, something missing from the pile.
you look around everywhere for the pink pair of panties you were just wearing, were you wearing them?" you question as they are seemingly gone.
not wanting to keep anakin waiting any longer for dinner you throw your clothes in the hamper and head downstairs. anakin gone from his spot on the couch.
cooking dinner was easy, you decided on something quick tonight. some chicken alfredo noodles.
dinner was done, warming on the stove to keep warm until kahn got home from work.
you haven't heard anything from anakin in the time it took you to cook. you go to look for him.
stepping to his door, reaching for the handle. you stop.
moans and whimpers fall quickly, you're about to walk away, not wanting to disrupt, when you heard you name fall from the boys lips.
you stop, frozen.
"nghh y/n mommy please" can be heard, your name being said like it's a prayer.
your thighs press together, this is wrong you think to yourself, yet you don't move. placing an ear to the door to hear better.
more moans and whimpers are fallen from the red and swollen lips of anakin. your name being repeated over and over again as he rubs his leaking cock with your used panties.
you listen for a few more minutes before the sound of his hand grow louder and more erratic, whimpers falling from his lips as it gets harder for him to be quiet while reaching his climax.
few seconds later and your name is being said as all motion stops.
he came to the thought of you while using your dirty underwear.
you quickly rush from the door, down the stairs to the kitchen to finish plating diner as kahn should be getting in any minute.
do you tell your husband what you heard?
you couldn't, you didn't want to get anakin in trouble.
dinner was good, beside the fact all you could feel was anakins eyes on you, and the feeling in your stomach.
this is so wrong.
you needed to stop this.
-
you decided the week kahn would be on a business trip was the best to confront anakin, better to have his dad away so he doesn't find out.
it's a little past 9pm when you walk to anakins door, knocking slightly.
"ani? can i come in?"
your met with some shuffling before the door is open, and a tired looking face greets you with a small smile.
"oh did i wake you?"
"no, was just laying in bed. what do you need?"
"can i come in and talk?"
he moves from the doorway to allow you in, you walk towards his bed. him following after shutting his door.
the only light in the room is his bedside lamp, illuminating a nice orange hue.
"ani, i need to talk to you about something"
he nods
"a week ago, i came up here to grab you for dinner but i stopped when i heard noises coming from your room." you started.
anakins face instantly grew red, and his face dropped to the floor.
"i went to walk away, but then i heard my name, ani you can't be having these thoughts about me"
you stopped talking, giving anakin a second, you just embarrassed him.
he doesn't speak, so you continue "i'm your dads wife. this isn't appropriate"
he looks up at you, teary eyed, " 'm sorry " he slurs out, obviously fighting back crying.
your heart broke, you didn't want him to feel bad for what he did, "hey, anakin. it's okay, im not mad at you" you say grabbing his cheek, wiping his tears.
he leans into your touch, with a slight whimper.
"i'm sorry, please don't leave me" he says, grabbing your wrists.
"i'm not gonna leave you ani, please calm down"
he's still crying, "i just love you so much, i need you" he's now practically in your lap, your rubbing your fingers through his hair.
"ani, i'm your step mother"
he cries more, grabbing at anything he could.
"mommy" he sobs out, bringing his head up to look at you, he's broken. face red and puffy with tears.
your heart breaks, you little ani feeling this bad, "ani it's okay, stop shhh" you try and soothe him.
you lay him back on the bed, letting him rest on you as you cuddle him.
thirty minutes pass, he's calmed. hiccuping in your lap now.
"wanna talk?" you say running your fingers through his hair. he nods and sits up to face you.
"i'm so sorry y/n" he says, grabbing your hands, "please don't hate me"
"i could never hate you, it's okay"
he stares at you, eyes wide, so innocent.
"please let me be a good boy for you"
you tilt your head, "ani no, this isn't appropriate"
"i hear the way you moan with my dad, how fake it sounds, let me show you how much you mean to me" he says, his once blue eyes, dark and lidded.
he listens when you and his dad have sex?
such a naughty boy.
his hands go up your arms to your shoulders, "please let me be good for you mommy"
you can't deny the heat forming, this shouldn't turn you on.
but to have anakin, sitting in front of you. BEGGING for you, crying for you, it's something you'd never imagine.
"ani.."
he stops you, "please, i've loved you since i met you, look" he jumps up to grab his camera off his desk.
he flips through all the pictures, you doing normal things, you cooking, you showering, and worst of all. you sprawled out in your bed, dildo in hand pleasuring yourself.
fuck
this is insane, you thought. this is wrong. he's been watching you??
he wasn't done, he pulled a box out from under his bed.
all your missing underwear, you knew the washer wasn't eating that many.
"see, i want you. i crave you"
he says. on his knees, infront of the bed.
you can't deny the throbbing in between your legs, this was disgusting.
but you loved every second of it.
you knew anakin was attracted to you but you didn't think he was a pervert.
"such a dirty boy anakin, what do you do with all this?"
he moaned, "i touch myself" he says shyly.
how can he be so shy after showing this to you.
you loved it.
"show me"
his head jerks up, confusion on his face. but your serious. sitting back to make room for him on the bed.
"be a good boy anakin, show mommy" he waste no time in undoing the strings to his pants, pulling them down and climbing on the bed.
god he was big, much bigger then your husband.
"oh ani, you're so pretty baby"
you moans, before grabbing his throbbing cock, red angry tip leaking precum. just for you.
his pace is slow, agonizing, he's wanting this to last for ever.
"baby you can do better then that, i want you to cum for me. think you can do it?" you say running your fingers through his hair before reaching the base and jerking.
the moan that fell from his lips, was nothing but sinful. the pace on his cock increasing, rubbing himself raw.
you say nothing but praises, letting the boy know how well he's doing, and how you're so proud.
you can tell he's getting close when your movements become sloppy and erratic. whimpers escaping his mouth, before his release shakes his entire body.
you help him through it, kissing his head and rubbing your hands on him to help ground him.
he's on cloud 9, he feels so good and to have your hands on him. he's soft cock, slowly getting bigger again, the thought of your sweet pussy engulfs his mind.
the sweet smell he's gotten from your panties, he wants the real thing.
"m-mommy need your pussy, please" the redness on his cheeks, the mess he's made on his stomach. is all too much for you to keep your composure.
"since you've been such a good boy, you can eat mommy out"
you barely finished your sentence before your pants and underwear are being thrown off and his head his between your legs, lapping up all your sweet juices, inhaling your scent.
he takes you clit into his mouth, sucking harshly, inflicting a harsh groan from your throat.
he's eager and eating like this is his last meal, he starved. wanting nothing more then your pussy in his face.
"oh ani, you're so good to me" you moan out cause him to rut against his mattress. he’s pussy drunk, letting his tongue touch every inch of your soaking pussy, you’ve never felt this good.
you didn’t think it get better, until you feel a warm finger entering you. your back arches, god he is making you crazy.
“anakin, oh my god” the right coil in your stomach burning. anakin continues his actions, curling his finger as his lips are attached to your clit.
“ani, im gonna cum, keep going, don’t st-“ you were cut off by your own orgasm, ripping through your entire body. you’ve never came this hard.
anakin moans, face soaked with all your juices, lapping up what he could.
“mommy did i do good?” he asks with innocence in his eyes, you brush his blonde curls out of his face, “so good baby”
he climbs up to lay with you, cock still painfully erect, taking notice, you reach down and touch him so gently. he moans and thrusts into your hand.
“should mommy help you baby?” his head nods frantically, hoping you’d give him what he wants.
“lay down on your back” you say pushing his chest till he’s laid flat. climbing up to hover above him. his cock so close to you, he could feel the heat radiating from you.
moaning as you grab him, guiding the tip through your folds, pushing it slowly into you as you sink all the way to the base.
he stretched you so well, reaching every part of your body. loving how full you felt.
he looked beautiful under you, absolutely stunning. hair all disheveled, lips red and puffy, tears staining his face, you wanted to ruin him.
lifting yourself so slowly, feeling every inch of his beautiful cock, humming as you sing back down, with more force.
picking up pace, bouncing so heavenly on his cock, anakins brain cannot think straight. his mouth agape as the only thing falling from it is moans, sweet boy can’t even think straight.
fucking yourself, using anakin as if he was just some fuck toy, he loved it. his hands finding your waist gripping it so hard you’re sure there’ll be bruises. loving the thought of him leaving marks on you drove you to bounce harder wanting to reach your climax.
anakin became frantic, “mommy gonna cum, inside please, fill you up” he’s ranting.
“hold it anakin, not yet” not wanting to lose your own orgasm. fucking your self harder, ignoring his pleas.
anakin cums, cums hard inside you. filling you up, making such a mess. his eyes open wide, “mommy, im so-“
“disobeying mommy, what a bad boy” you say still with his cock buried deep inside you, rocking back and fourth.
“too much mommy” anakin says, lightly pushing you. you hold yourself firm on him, “baby mommy’s not done, mommy wants to cum around your pretty cock. you’ll do that for me right?”
his head shakes, wanting nothing more then to please his beautiful mommy. “yes yes let me make you feel good” you feel his cock twitch inside of you.
you slowly pull off, and lay down at the head of the bed, “come here baby, make me feel good” motioning with your hands.
he climbs on top of you, eager to please, you spread your legs so he fits so perfectly. you nod your head, giving him permission to re-enter you.
he does so with a fast thrust, beginning his relentless pace, wanting nothing more then to make you cum around him. feel as your pussy flutters, squeezing his cock.
“mommy” he rambles, “so good so good”
you’re in bliss, he’s fucking you so good. your husband long forgotten. he’s never made you feel this good, you never knew this much pleasure was possible.
“oh baby, you make mommy feel so good” he moans into the crook of your neck, loving hearing how good he’s doing. making you feel so good. he lives for it.
your close, the way his cock is abusing that spot inside you, has your toes curling. you tell him how close you are, he’s holding out for you, you can tell how he so badly wants, no needs to cum.
“such a dirty boy, fucking his mommy like a bitch in heat” you couldn’t help but toy with him. edging him on.
few more thrusts and he’s coming again, filling you up for a second time.
“ ‘m sorry mommy” anakin says, slowly thrusting into you, not wanting to upset you.
“baby, it’s okay, we can stop-“
“no, need your cum”
he thrusts back into you, cock rock hard.
how does this sweet boy have this much in him, you didn’t question it when he started pounding that one spot, with his hand moving to you clit rubbing it in slow circles.
“ani” you moan out. “please like that”
he just moans as he continues his rapid pace, bringing you to your climax, squeezing down on his cock as your juices spill making a mess of his bed.
his fourth orgasm isn’t long after, chanting about filling you with his cum.
he slumps down on your chest, soft cock still inside.
“such a good boy for mommy, you did so good baby” you say while rubbing circles on his back.
he sits up, and pulls his cock out, watching all his cum ooze out of you. mesmerized in how you squeeze down on nothing.
he takes his finger and pushes his cum back inside of you, leaning his head on your shoulder, “want you pregnant with my baby” he whispers into your ear
who knew he could be so dirty.
he lays next to you, cuddling into your side, arm wrapped around your waist.
“i love you mommy”
you smile, dragging your fingers through his hair, “i love you too baby”
“i made you feel better then my dad?”
“yes, god yes”
you could feel the smirk on your skin, “is this a one time thing?” he asks so shyly. as if he wasn’t just pounding your pussy with such disrespect.
“no baby, you’re mine forever. understand? you’re all mine.”
he smiles, pleased with your response.
“what about dad”
you completely forgot about your husband, what the fuck were you gonna do?? your just fucked your stepson.
his cum still leaking out of you, you realize how fucked you were gonna be.
“guess this has to be our secret, okay?”
anakin nodded, half asleep. absolutely exhausted from his multiple orgasms.
you sighed, pulling the blanket over the two of you, drifting to sleep yourself.
wishing that hopefully, your husband never finds out so you can keep fucking his sweet innocent son.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
a/n :
WOAH
first post, please tell me what you think.
i just love the thought of anakin being so whipped for you, he’s so submissive.
#anakin skywalker#star wars anakin#anakin x reader#anakin smut#sub!anakin#perv!anakin#stepson#stepmom#smut#hayden christensen
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