#Wet flood-proofing.

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader - 18+ request(s): sick fics (1/2) and mama's body image

He pulls you under the covers in the marigold shadow of your bedroom as soon as Orion goes down.

You’re not as bold as you have been over the phone, reverting back to his shy, sweet kitten, bashful in his arms as he sucks marks into your neck, hands drifting down your spine and over your hips to fill his palms with plush curve of your ass.

“Missed you, mama.” You smile softly, hiding your face in his chest.

“Missed you too.” He tries to map you with his fingers, stroking them over your thighs, your shoulders, pulling your fingers to his mouth and dotting his lips across each knuckle. Maybe, if he does it enough, he'll never forget what you feel like.

You're wearing another one of your sleep shirts, oversized, stretched, frayed, a thin veil shielding you from him, and when he slips underneath the hem tracing up towards your navel, you stiffen in his arms, muscles tense like a deer in headlights. "What is it?" You don't answer, gaze holding steadfast and forward, directly at his chest. Fear bristles, worming its way into his gut instincts. He sits up. "What's wrong? Are you dizzy?"

"N-no, I'm fine. I feel... fine." Your body tells a different story, curled forward, still tense, like you're trying to protect your ribs.

"What's going on?" You shake your head, wet track of a tear shining in your cheek in the dark. His anxiety, his fear, won't let him tread carefully any longer, steel backed demand slipping free like he's speaking to one of the sergeants. "Talk to me."

"I don't look the same!" You blurt, and then try to roll out of the bed, away from him. "I don't feel the same, either. I'm kind of... squishy, stretched out because your kid is a giant. And I gave birth to him, you know... he wasn't easy." His grip loosens momentarily, and you seize the opportunity, feet landing on the carpet and trying to stand.

He snatches you around the waist so fast and yanks, tugs you back to the bed and shifts your weight so you're pinned underneath him. "Simon!"

"Look at me." He rubs his nose against yours, keeping your wrists pinned above your head, his thighs bracketing yours. "You did give birth to our baby, honey. You, and this body, grew him, took care of him, kept him safe. I love this body, mama. I loved your body the first night I met you, and-"

"Exactly." You snap, nose tipped up. "You loved the way I used to look and I definitely don't-" His brows lower, and he cuts you off with his mouth, stealing a long kiss before pulling away.

"Don't interrupt me. I did love your body then, but I love how you look now, even more," to drive his point home, he presses the length of his hard cock against where it's nestled between your legs, and your eyes go wide, "this body had my baby, mama," He dips low, closing his mouth over your t shirt and nipple, teasing with his teeth before releasing, "this body feeds my baby," he releases your hands, trailing his down your ribs and over your belly, where he holds you still, "this body is proof you belong to me, that you're mine, and I'd worship every inch of it, if you'd let me. It's okay if you don't love yourself or how you look right now, because I'll do it for you until that changes." Your eyes are half lidded, smart mouth parted on words stolen.

"I-" Orions cries, echoing from his room, and Simon kisses your shoulder.

"I'll get him."

"What if it's RSV?" He keeps his voice low, hand still covering the back of Orion's head, pacing a small pattern across the kitchen. He's been holding him all morning, too unnerved to be separated from him or put him down for even a second, and now he's sleeping on Simon's chest, tiny fingers and fist curled up in the neck of his shirt.

"I don't think it's RSV. We haven't really gone out much, and he doesn't have a high fever."

"But his snot is green." There's a monster curled up in the farthest reaches of Simon's heart. A cold, black thing that's pulling the strings in his head and making his blood pressure skyrocket. His baby is sick. What if it's serious? What if he doesn't get help in time?

You tuck your fingers inside the corner of his arm, and lay your head on his bicep. "Green snot is also a symptom of a common cold, which babies get a lot." You rub Ry's back and press the back of your hand to his cheek. "His fever isn't very high, and he doesn't have much of a cough. I think we're okay for now."

"Maybe we should take him in, or call the pediatrician again and-"

"Simon, hey." Your hand drifts to his back now, rubbing up and down his spine, like he needs soothing. Well, that's not right. He should be comforting you. You and the baby, he should be taking care of you, making sure you're both- "Dr. Marsh said as long as his fever doesn't spike, he's not sleeping too much, and he doesn't start wheezing, then we're okay to keep him here at home. He's okay, okay? Babies get sick. But we're here with him, and we're going to make sure he's okay. Right?" He closes his eyes, rolling your words around in his mind, your reasoning gaining ground and hooking into him, holding him steady. You're levelheaded right now, steadfast, and he loves you for it, allows himself to lean on it, just a little bit.

"Right."

"Why don't you let me take him? You've been holding him for six hours. Go... take a shower, or something. Or eat. I want you to clear your head, relax a little bit." He lifts Orion into your arms, but shakes his head at your suggestions.

"I don't need-"

"Please. For me?" Refusals die on his lips just like that, and he nods.

The shower does Simon a world of good. His head does feel clear, and he's more focused, more rational, as he dries off and pulls a pair of sweats out of his bag.

Everything is fine. Babies get sick. You're right. His fever isn't even that high.

The lights are dim in your room, where you're on your side, half propped up, Orion on his back in front of you. You smile at Simon as he crosses the distance, leaning over to press a kiss to your head. "Feel better?"

"Yeah, thank you. Sorry I uh, lost it a bit."

"You were worried." You pat the opposite side, next to the baby, and he lays down, big hand on Ry's stomach. "It's the first you've seen him get sick, of course you're going to lose it a little bit." Your choice of words make him wonder, and he cocks his head.

"Has he been sick before?"

"He had a cold around four, five weeks. I was a mess." Your lips split into a shaky smile. "He was miserable, wouldn't eat, wouldn't sleep. Couldn't breathe through his nose. I took him in right away, cried the entire time, but he didn't even have a fever. Just a cold." You shrug. "They told me if he does develop a fever, then it could be bad, and to bring him back in immediately. I spent the next two days watching him every single second, even when he was asleep in his crib, making sure he was still breathing. Checking his temperature every hour." You sigh. "Here, let's do this." You encourage him to roll onto his back, pulling the sheet up over his chest to his shoulders. "You run too hot." You tease, before carefully scooping Orion up and placing him on Simon's chest, still asleep. "This way, you can keep an eye on his breathing and his temperature and I," the words are cut off by a yawn, "can get some sleep right here. Okay?" He stares at you for a long minute, love and obsession and appreciation twisting him up until he's reaching over and cupping your cheek.

"Thank you mama."

[pearlzier]

────⠀ ⠀FRESH LOVIN' w/ CHRIS.

NOTES .ᐣ ana writing chris ????? its a literal miracle..... yeah hes been lookin a little too good lately... also ive been thinking of this for weeks now so uhh yeah !

WARNINGS .ᐣ p in v. uhhh dirty talk. afab!reader. no protection 🙀. im not great at writing chris i dont think... better at writin matt but i tried.

IT SHOULDN'T HAVE BEEN AS AROUSING AS IT WAS to see you wearing his merch. chris gives you the pieces you like for free anyway, you're his girlfriend—half of the time you help with the designing process anyway. so he's used to seeing you in.. well, his brand. the sight of 'fresh love' written across your chest is nice, he likes it a lot, but he's used to seeing it when you're with him. you'd told him plenty of times that the hoodies and shirts are super comfortable, so you wore them often.

so that is exactly why he was so confused as to why the sight of you modelling his merch made his dick as hard as it did. it wasn't.. that different. was it? he doesn't get it. maybe it's the professionalism of the photos, or just how official it all is. that's his girlfriend wearing his brand. no one else's—just his. a funny feeling fizzes in his abdomen, a warm feeling flooding his chest. both of those things at the instance he sees your pretty body wearing something he created.

his baby wearing his baby—that kind of thing. its corny, sure, but still. it made his head all murky and fuzzy, and his jeans tighten around him so uncomfortably it was impossible to ignore it. being at the photoshoot was a fucking nightmare, let alone seeing the photos all over instagram. people loved the photos, of course they did, you looked really good in them, and yeah, he loved them a lot too. which was why it was agony going on any social to find the exact thing that gives him a raging hard-on.

it was merely a coincidence that you'd walked in wearing merely a fresh love shirt and not much else. he lets out a low groan at the sight of you, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip for a moment with his eyes raking up and down your figure. matt and nick weren't in, the entire reason you were wearing so little, so.. it wouldn't be completely wrong of him to have you bent over the couch due to your little get up, right? he's hoping so, since that's the only thing clouding his brain right now.

"actin' like you're not just as bad as me," he mutters, scoffing in return as you'd done previously. "actin' like your panties ain't soaked."

"you're starin'," he glances up at your words, his blue eyes wide and surprised for a moment before a smirk flits at his plush lips. yeah, of course he's staring. your nipples are hard beneath the cotton of the shirt, poking out a little and drawing his attention directly to them. soon, his eyes drop down to the curve of your ass beneath your underwear. slowly, he slides his hand down to adjust himself over his sweats with a quiet grunt.

"can you blame a guy?" chris murmurs, biting his tongue for a minute before he looks you up and down. "bein' such a fuckin' tease walkin' 'round like that," you scoff at his words, a soft smile playing on your own lips. a tilt of your head, and you're looking him up and down too. he looks good, he always does, but he does look really good. folding your arms beneath your chest, you lean against the kitchen island. "we both know you're soaked, baby." his words are practically a growl.

"you ain't got any proof," you grumble, feeling a surge of heat pool between your legs despite your own words. he wasn't wrong, you know, and he knows that too. all you wanted was to make something to eat, albeit wearing the least amount of clothing possible, but sure.

his smirk widens, "no? do you want me to check?" he knows you're wet, he can see it. from the way your thighs press together and how you're a little stiff whilst wandering around. all tell tale signs that you're just as horny as he is. "you're drippin', baby. don't even try to pretend with me," chris is quiet for a moment, before he pushes up off of the couch slowly. his eyes rake over your frame, and it only makes you feel more flustered in a way.

"don't gotta check 'cause i ain't wet," you mumble immediately, your skin warming up. you're lying through your teeth right now, and chris knows it. he knows you better than literally anyone, even if you don't want to admit it. trying to focus your mind on anything other than well, that, you turn away to open up the fridge and get something to eat. chris is making his way over, eventually standing in the doorway with his arms folded across his chest.

chris chuckles quietly, a low and rich sound. wandering a little closer to you, he stops right behind you with a click of his tongue. you shiver almost immediately when his hand slides over your side, skimming towards the swell of your chest. "liar," he murmurs, letting his nose trail along the skin of your neck lazily as he draws you a little closer to him. "you're always drenched for me, just as much of a mess as i am."

your eyes flutter over to him for a second before you swallow hard, "ain't a liar," you insist, head tilting to the side a little bit at the feel of his head by the crook of your neck. but back to the food, you tried to will yourself, as you bent over to grab a cutting board from a lower drawer. "yeah, can feel you pokin' my thigh with that ragin' hard-on of yours." chris scoffs at that, corners of his lips flitting up at the corners in a lazy smirk.

"s'not exactly a trade secret, is it?" chris mumbles with soft amusement, leaving gentle, warm kisses over the skin of your neck. his hands roaming gently over you doesn't stop him from pulling you back into him. he presses up against you as you're bent over, slowly rocking his hips up against you with a small, strained noise escaping him.

"you feel what you do to me, princess?" was pretty hard not to.

a soft gasp followed by a soft moan escapes you, "chris—" and you grasp at the drawer to keep yourself steady. a shaky breath slips past your lips and you feel it soon hitch in your throat. "don't," in the kitchen? matt and nick could walk in at any moment, you knew, but chris seemed like he didn't care at all, actually.

"don't what, baby?" he coos, taking a breath as he slowly alides his hands down to your hips. at the same time, his own hips grind enticingly into your ass, his aching erection pushing up against you. he needed you so bad. there, in the middle of the kitchen, he shamelessly grinds up against you. "don't what? don't touch you, don't make you feel good, don't love you?"

you let out this pretty moan, folding your arms beneath you to lean up against the counter. "no, no, no—mmh," you wanted him to keep going, you knew he'd make you feel good, he always did. made it his mission, actually. chris grind at your words, head tilting to the side a little bit now. "keep goin', please," well, you don't have to ask him twice, he'd do anything you asked of him.

"mhm.." chris hums quietly, considering whether he should take off the shirt so he can get his hands all over you before he decides not to. the shirt's the appeal, seeing you wearing something he made. fucking you in something he made. "keepin' this on," he adds, letting you know what was going on in his head.

as much as he'd usually keep you waiting, he was far too pent up to do so now. he lets go of your hips momentarily, his free hand moving to his sweats already hanging low on his hips to push them down a little bit to free his cock. a groan escapes him at being exposed, and he shuts his eyes for a minute when he wraps his hand around at the base and gives himself a languid stroke. he could get off right here at the sight of your ass clad in pretty panties pushed up against him like that, but the warmth of your cunt was a safety he couldn't deny.

"probably soaked all the way through these panties of yours, huh?" at the sound you let out, he smiles a little more, his hand slipping inside your panties almost immediately to test his theory. his fingers slowly start to brush against your clit, feeling how slick you are from just his words alone. "told you," you're sopping wet, and he loves it. his head tilts to the side a little, and he applies a little more pressure before gliding his fingers through your slick folds. biting his bottom lip at your sounds, he groans.

"chris, shit," you mewl softly, hips slowly bucking up towards his fingers as he pushed them up against you. he lets his thumb brush against your entrance, gliding over it easily before he glances back over at you. "that's it, let me feel you," for a few long moments, he makes tight circles over your bundle of nerves before his impatience gets the best of him. "feels so good—"

"i know, mmh, gotta feel you, baby," he tells you, tugging down your panties in a swift movement. you gasp quietly at the cold air hitting against your warm folds, and secondly at the feel of his cock pushing against your entrance. he's gentle, always is, his free hand moving to hold you steady at your hip. "you alright?"

you swallow hard, trying to figure out a way to say it without sounding desperate as all hell. "uh, yeah, yeah," you nod, shifting your hips back against him to feel him properly. a laugh escapes chris, and he hums, slowly easing himself inside you with a little buck of his hips. his hand moves to join his other one at your hips and he groans gutterly, eyes squeezing shut. "so fuckin' tight, baby."

"holy shit," you're clenching on him like a damn vice already, a moan escaping you as well in a similar fashion to chris'. he takes his time with it, lifting his hand from your hip to place it on the kitchen counter and grasp at it to keep him steady. he soon enough buries inside you to the hilt, hands roaming over your hips and ass, occasionally squeezing as he looks you up and down.

"such a dirty little thing, aren't you?" slowly, he shifts his hips back so just his throbbing tip is inside you, before he snaps his hips forward again so he's back to where he was moments prior. the sounds you let out practically have him coming right there, but he's got enough restraint to hold on for maybe a few minutes more. "lettin' me fuck you in the kitchen against the counter, knowin' anyone could walk in."

his words barely register to you with how he thrusts in and out of you, practically molding your insides to fit him, taking him so good like you do every damn time. "chris, mmh—! feels so.. ah, shit—!" your tits bounce beneath the fresh love shirt, drawing his eyes there almost immediately. he moves his free hand to cup your chest, thumbs circling over your hardened nipples and pinching momentarily.

"can't even think straight, can you? too busy thinkin' 'bout my cock, mmh.. i know it feels good, baby, feels right," chris keeps up the pace of his thrusts, practically pounding you up against the counter. "feels so, fuckin', good," he punctuates each of his words with a sharp buck of his hips, but making sure that you didn't hurt yourself in any way and holding you up.

"can't.. think straight," you agree breathily, practically panting with every push of his hips and feel of your pussy tightening around him. you shut your eyes, lashes fluttering as you practically squeal around him. "can't think straight, that's right. just focused on makin' a mess on my cock," and making a mess you were, feeling that burst of pleasure as he brought you over the edge.

soon, he got there too, the movements of his hips stuttering as he let out out a low sound, finally coming to a stop once he'd stuffed you full of his cum. "did so good for me," he murmurs. eyes darting up to yours when he managed to coax your eyes open with his hand. "did perfect.."

"yeah?" you ask, voice all airy and breathless. you feel so warm and fuzzy, a bliss washing over you. with a soft sound, you relax against the counter with his help and the feel of him easing out of you. his eyes dart down to his release leaking out of your hole, and he hums quietly, letting his hand trail back down and circle his thumb around the mess he'd made for a moment.

"and i thought you were hungry, baby."

ִ ֹ ★ @mattybsgroupie, @dayzeandhaze, @mattslolita, @stellasturns, @stevelacylovebot, @55sturn, @jetaimevous, @phone4pills, @aesthetixhoe, @venusiers, @chrissdollie, @stvrnmc, @sarosfilms, @beetlejenna, @funkycoloured, @v3nusasagrl, @imwetforyourmom, @deansbite, @beridollie, @pr3ttyf4wn, @sincerebabydoll, @pillwebb, @cayleeuhithinknot, @j2ss7, @sweetrelieef, @l3sbiancvnt, @fallbhind, @beausling ִ ꒱

[okwonyo]

﹙ ✉️ ﹚ ──MIDAS TOUCH. in which 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗆𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗇'𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽.

엔하이픈 성훈 ⠀ ノ⠀ female reader 11OO non-idol au fluff established relationship ⠀⎯⠀⠀ not proof-read skinship making out⠀， recueil . . .

a/n. for @bywons’s on our love event and also to celebrate @cupidhoons & @sainns return ! 😚 for @atrirose because that picture showed a side of her i never saw ... read until the end i swear it’s worth it ^^

if you had to pick a favorite season, it would definitely be summer.

the sun shining bright as you wake up. the birds chirping heavenly at you window to welcome you in the morning. summer break starting. going shopping whenever you can, meeting your friends. finally stepping foot in the sand and greeting the sea after a long time being away from it. waiting for it during most of the year, there is just joy that fills your body when you can see the season peeking it’s nose — you already plan your summer’s hang outs at the end of spring.

it’s a perfect season, really. even the heat waves people tend to complain about are perfect. you always go through the most hot days of summer with a water bottle, your dear fan and the cold floor of your room you lay on during the whole day. curtains covering the window but not totally, you are almost in the dark for the entirety of your day— it’s not good for your eyes, your mom always scolds you, but you don’t care. during a weather like this, you barely do anything, anyway, if it’s not staring at the celling, though you can’t properly see it, and go to the kitchen when you need to.

this is the reason your back rest on the bare floor while you wear an oversized tee and a short right now.

today is the most hot day of the year and you doing fine, really fine even. the cold floor added to the fan hitting directly on your face prevent you from melting right then and there. you would be perfectly fine if your boyfriend didn’t erupt in your room without any sort of warnings. his tall and muscular frame appearing right in front of you, the light of the opened door he stands under showing off his biceps with his tank top perfectly, claiming that your parents let him in, before flopping right on top of you like he weighted nothing. which is far from the truth, those muscles made you let out a tiny ‘oof’ that he brushed off with a giggle.

the first ten minutes of it were fine. you fingers absentmindedly playing with his hair as his nose rested in the crook of your neck. barely any words were exchanged, too scared that your tongues would disappear into thin air if you even tried to talk. however, his weight added to the unbearable heat were threatening to be the end of you, and not in a good way.

“sunghoon,” you dare to speak, only to call your lover. he doesn’t respond entirely, only giving you a hum that vibrates on your skin. “get off of me.”

he lets out a groan. only moving to further put his nose in the crook of your neck, the tip of his nose seems to want to cut through your skin and makes a home for itself inside of your flesh. you can practically feel the sweat flooding all over your body. from your wet hair to your sticky body, the heat doesn’t spare you at all.

it is the same for sunghoon. his sweat is far from smelling bad, it reminds you of caramel and vanilla drowned in milk together. when your hands find his torso, with much difficulty, you can feel his white tank top being soaked against his pecs, can feel his muscles through the fabric, against your sweaty palms. the heat must be messing up with your brain, this feeling you feel in the pit of your stomach can’t be real. you stay still for a moment, his voice cuts through your trance like state.

“don’t be shy,” he whispers against your skin, his warmth breath sends you into a spiral. you can hear the smirk in his voice when he speaks again, “you can go a little lower.”

the blush appearing all over your body must be ten times hotter than the weather out here, “w-what do you mea—” oh, his abs. you shut your mouth immediately. closing your eyes, biting your lower lip, you do everything to get yourself back on earth. this man is crashing your bones, making you melt with his body warmth and has the audacity to play with you. you push his chest, he barely budges, “get off of me.”

sunghoon stays still at your words. then, he licks his lower lips. the ghost of his tongue tickles your neck, you almost combust on the spot. another silence fills the room for a moment, only the sound of the electric fourniture sending you cold air reaches your ears. after a while, you simply accept your fate, but you swear if the summer heat wasn’t taking half of your energy, the man on top of you would already be sent flying through the window by now.

you sign, freeing your hands from between sunghoon’s chest and yours, “i’m so hot.”

these three words seem to be the only ones you needed to say for your boyfriend to finally get off of you. you can’t see him well, but the light escaping through the slightly opened curtains lets you see his face being colored by a red taint a little in the dark. he pins each of his palms next to a side of your head. he towers over you as you look at him, his wet hair hangs right above you, his breath is heavy, his face is sweaty.

still, he grins while he looks directly at you, “yes, you are.”

you want to say something back, anything. alas, your body heat gets ridiculously higher and your throat is too sore to spit out any sort of sound. the look in his gaze weights on your lips, you can’t really see is eyes properly, but you can feel lust, desire in them. a droplet of sweat lands on your cheek, you would have cringed normally, but you don’t mind this time. you can’t focus on such meaningless things when sunghoon is looking at you like that. like his whole body is craving for you.

the warmth breath you felt on your neck a moment ago gets warmer and warmer on your mouth as he leans in. he falls onto you slowly, carefully, “s’hot,” he mumbles against your lips before capturing them.

a salty feeling fills your mouths when you kiss, the sweat on your lips is somehow sweet on both of your tongues. he is soon to be all over you again, his chest meets yours as he makes a total mess of your mouth. the way his mouth moves against yours makes you go crazy, you feel yourself getting weaker and weaker, gripping onto his wet hair for dear life. somehow, the room gets even hotter and the van is only here for the fun of it. his tongue slips inside of your mouth when he tilts his head to the side slightly, it feels like he is devouring you whole, sucking your soul like a sort of vampire. it’s the first time he kisses you like that, dizzying lovesick, you surely hope it’s not the last.

suddenly, his hand finds the one of yours who is free, his skin is so hot against yours. you don’t know if it’s the summer or, just, him. he pulls away from the kiss, because, right, you have to breathe. he puts your palm against his chest, on his beating heart, the pulse is so loud that you can feel it vibrating in your entire body. he goes back to kissing you before any words can leave your mouth. his hands guides yours lower as the kiss goes, you are way too busy going crazy on him tilting his head again to put his tongue in your mouth to realize that you are now touching his abs. he lets out a shuddered sigh as your fingertips presses against his soaked top, his abs well sculpted under it, your touch captivates him, his body aches for you.

you love summer and whatever it’s heat waves makes to sunghoon’s mind.

ㅤㅤ𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open ⎯⎯ click

[wh0re43van]

Boyfriend (Warren Lipka X Reader)

Summary: you reunite with an old friend while making a delivery for your shitty boyfriend

Word count: 4.1k

Warnings: smut, throat fucking, weed, cheating, not proof read

A/n: I have no idea how much weed costed in 2003 bc I was two years old. Also, I apologize if your name is Chelsea bc you will be slandered in this fic. Thank you for reading! <3

Pt 2 , Pt 3

I slam my boyfriends shitty car door, stepping out into the cold November rain, running towards the brick house, an 8th of weed shoved in my bra. I can’t believe my idiot boyfriend is too lazy to get out of his car to make his delivery. I’ve never even met this customer and his dumbass is having me waltz right up this random man’s house, while he’s parked a block away.

I pound on the wooden door before stepping back a bit. I shift back and forth on my feet as I rub my hands up and down on my arms trying to warm myself with the friction. After a couple of minutes, the door swings open, a man with unkempt brown hair and tired eyes steps out, looking a bit surprised. Those eyes. I know them. I cant put my finger on it, but I know him from somewhere.

“Uhm can I help you? Are you alright?” he asks, stepping out onto the porch closing the door behind him, looking me up and down, maybe trying to figure out why some strange girl is stood sopping wet on his doorstep, or maybe he recognizes me as well.

“Of course that dumbass didn’t tell you,” I sigh. “I’m delivering for Dakota,” I explain, pulling the plastic baggie out of my bra.

“Ah, okay,” he opens the door again, ignoring my hand offering the weed. “Why don’t you come in, get out of the cold?” he offers, holding the door open for me. I consider his offer; He seems kind, and he doesn’t appear to have the money on him anyway. I might as well wait inside while he retrieves it before I catch my death out here.

“Thank you,” I smile, stepping into the warm living room, part of me hoping that Dakota can see me going into the random man’s house. He leads me down to the basement, explaining that this is his bedroom.

“Make yourself at home,” he smiles, showing two familiar dimples on either cheek as he gestures to his couch. I smile back, happily taking a seat. He walks into the bathroom, coming back with a towel in his hand.

“Did you go to Tates Creek Highschool by chance?” he asks, offering me the grey bath towel.

“I did,” I smile. “Only for freshman year though, my family moved the next county over after that,” I explain. That must be where I know him from.

“Y/n, I thought that was you,” he smiles taking a seat next to me.

“Yeah,” I smile back. “You look familiar, but I’m sorry I can’t remember your name,” I blush, a bit embarrassed that I don’t remember him.

“Ouch,” He chuckles. “I thought getting detention together for stealing the teachers’ cigarettes would have been a bit more memorable,” he says, leaning back on the couch. Then it dawns on me.

“Warren?” I ask, shocked. “Little Warren Lipka?” I turn on the couch to face him, getting a better look- the best look I can get in the dim yellow lighting. I don’t believe it! He laughs at my reaction.

“I guess if you remember me as little Warren, I can see why you didn’t recognize me,” he says, reaching for his grinder and papers laying on the coffee table. “You got that 8th, beautiful?” he asks casually. I blush at the comment, pulling the weed out of my bra once again. I hand him the warm baggie.

“That’ll be 7 bucks, sir,” I grin. All the memories come flooding back to me when our hands touch as we exchange the substance for the cash. All the classes we skipped together, all the many hours in detention we spent alongside each other, the cigarettes that we would smoke under the bleachers. He was shorter than me then, he always had his hair buzzed and wore oversized clothes to hide his small frame. I guess he was a late bloomer, because the only remnants of that little boy are the deep brown eyes and dimples displayed like artwork on the handsome grown man in front of me.

“You look really good,” he breaks me out of my thoughts, sparking the joint he’s just rolled.

“Thank you,” I smile. He passes me the paper. I take a hit. “You look good yourself,” I exhale through my nose, handing the joint back to warren.

“So you’re a friend of Dakotas?” He asks, after sucking in a breath of smoke as he stretches his arm over the back of the couch and behind my shoulders.

“His girlfriend, actually,” My response catches him off guard, making him choke on the smoke.

“Holy shit,” he laughs in between coughs. “How the hell did that goon bag you?” he asks, flabbergasted. I can’t help but giggle, taking another drag off the joint.

“Sometimes I wonder the same thing,” I answer honestly. Dakota isn’t exactly the best boyfriend in the world. We’ve been dating almost two years and I’ve caught him with other girls multiple times. He doesn’t respect my boundaries or my aspirations, yet somehow, he always convinces me to stay. I guess when you’re as attractive as he is and as insecure as I am, it isn’t hard for him to convince me that he’s the best I’ll ever have.

“So what’s wrong with Dakota? Why couldn’t he make the delivery himself?” Warren asks, looking down at the joint between his lips as it glows crimson. “Not that I’m complaining,” he clarifies.

“He said he was tired and didn’t want to get his shoes wet,” I laugh, feeling the THC start to take effect. “Can you believe that?” I ask, laying a hand on warrens thigh in my fit of giggles. “He’s just sitting in his shit box a block away,” I say, feeling my eyelids begin to get heavy. Warren raises his eyebrows, looking at me with glossy eyes.

“Wow,” he scoffs. “I actually don’t believe that. I couldn’t imagine having your girl make deliveries for you. Thats some serious pussy shit,” he rolls his eyes, holding the joint up to my mouth. I take a hit from the hot paper between his fingers. I look down at the spliff, then back at him to find his eyes already fixed on me. “If I was your boyfriend, I wouldn’t let you make deliveries for me,” he says in a much quieter tone, the moment is almost intimate as I blow the smoke into his face that’s closer to mine than I realized, but I can’t bring myself to back away. “And I sure as hell wouldn’t want you smoking with me,” he adds, bringing the joint to his lips to take the final hit.

“Why’s that?” I ask in a whisper with butterflies in my stomach, breathing in the smoke that’s slowly rolling off his lips.

“Because it gives me the opportunity to do something I’ve wanted to do since freshman year,” he matches my tone, glancing at my lips, bringing his finger and thumb around my chin, tilting my head up towards him. My heart begins to race at his proximity, I know I should pull away from him, but I can’t. I don’t want to. Just as his lips barely brush against mine, my Nokia rings out, sounding like an alarm, making me jump in surprise, scrabbling to find the small cellphone on the couch.

“Hey babe,” Warren answers the phone, winking at me. My stomach drops. Fuck. I reach for the phone, but warren stands up. “Nah man she’s good she’s right here. I just gave her the mon- hey. Hey!” I hear warren begin to shout. I cease my struggle to grab the phone. “Is there a fucking problem man?” Warren seethes into the phone. I hear my boyfriend’s muffled speech. “Yeah, I didn’t fuckin think so,” he hangs up the phone, handing the small plastic brick to me.

“You look pretty stoned,” he says picking up a coat off the couch, wrapping it around my shoulders. “Let me walk you out. You remember where his car is?” he asks, putting his hand on the small of my back, ushering me to the steps. I nod my head yes, staring at him with wide eyes trying to process what just happened.

“Lead the way then, beautiful,” he grins, and just like that, the butterflies are back. I don’t dare respond, not knowing what will come out of my mouth.

The walk to Dakota’s car is silent but comfortable, still pretty baked, I feel the rain coming down in sheets. vibrating calmly in my bones. I stare up at the orange glow of the streetlights in the night sky in awe. Everything looks so beautiful when you’re high.

“Here he is,” Warren says approaching the small rust bucket of a car that my boyfriend drives. He opens the passenger door for me. After I’m seated, he leans in to look at Dakota. “Don’t have your girl make trips for you anymore, man. What the fuck is wrong with you?” he says calmly but it comes across like a threat, before tossing a couple folded bills at Dakota and closing the door. I’m glad he remembered the money. Dakota would have killed me if I had left it down there.

 My boyfriend is quiet. Much more quiet than he normally is when someone threatens his masculinity. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he’s scarred of Warren.

As Dakota pulls off, his Insane Clown Posse CD playing quietly, I look out the side mirror to see warren standing with his hands in his pockets, getting soaked in the rain in nothing other than his t-shirt and jeans, watching me ride away. As Dakota begins to bitch and complain my ear, all I can think about is when ill see Warren again, then I remember; I have his coat. It would be rude of me to keep it. I’ll just have to return it to him.

•

•

It’s been a week since my interaction with Warren, and I can’t stop thinking about him.

‘Is it so wrong that I want to catch up with an old friend?’ I ask myself. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with visiting a friend, the issue lies in the fact that the thoughts I’m having of him aren’t exactly platonic.

‘I’ll just drop his coat off, thanking him for the kind gesture and be on my way.’ I tell myself as I climb into my car. ‘Okay, maybe I could make some small talk with him, that’s innocent enough. Yeah, ill ask him about his job, if he’s going to school now, stuff like that’ I manage to convince myself that this will be a short, polite visit with an old friend, but a part of me must know the truth because I tell Dakota that I’m going out with my mother for lunch.

I park my vehicle on a side street near the Lipka house, just in case Dakota drives down here for whatever reason. I grab Warrens coat and walk up to the porch.

‘Maybe he’s not home and I’ll just hand it to his parents,’ I think as I knock on the door. The thought disappoints me, but maybe it’s for the b-

“Y/n!” Warren exclaims as the door swings open. “What a pleasant surprise,” he crunches on a Cheeto, crinkling the bag as he folds it shut.

“Hey Warren,” I smile at the man standing in front of me while he licks the Cheeto dust off his fingers.

“Come in, its freezing,” he steps aside so I can enter. I frown a bit.

“Well, actually I’m just here to return your coat,” I hold out the slick material.

“How kind,” he flashes his dimples. “Are you in a rush?” He asks as he retrieves his jacket.

“Well, no…” I trail off, trying to think of an excuse, but its hard to excuse yourself from something you want more than anything else.

“Then come inside real quick, darling, just to warm up,” he winks at me and I cant help but giggle. I surrender, stepping into his warm home once again,and following him down to his room.

I sit down on his couch as Invader Zim plays on his box tv.

“This may be a bold assumption,” Warren starts as he sits down on the cushion next to me. “But I think you may have come back for something more than the raincoat,” he suggests, looking into my eyes.

“Warren-“ I begin, but I don’t know what to say. He’s right. I want to desperately finish what we almost started last week. Just the faint brushing of his lips against mine has made me feel something I’ve never experienced before. I need to feel him-

“Free weed, right?” He grins picking up the rolling tray.

Oh.

 I can’t help but blush. I thought for a moment that Warren had already forgotten about our last encounter, but the wink he sends my way suggests that he meant exactly what I thought he meant.

“It’s not often that I don’t have to match,” I admit, pulling my legs up to my chest.

“You mean with friends, right?” Warren asks before he licks the thin rolling paper, holding my gaze as his tongue slowly slides across the wrap.

“Uh,” my breath hitches in my throat. Damn he looks so good. I’ve never wanted to be a rolling paper so bad in my life. “No, I mean in general. Dakota says he’s, uhm, running a business. So I have to pay or match what I smoke every time we, uh, spark. Or else I’m stealing from him,” I mutter out. Warren smirks at the pink raising in my cheeks once again. He knows exactly what he’s doing. Thank God he can’t see the pool forming in my underwear.

“No offense y/n,” he sparks the joint, inhaling a hit of hot smoke. “But Dakotas pathetic,” he breaths out.

“None taken,” I laugh as I take the paper from his hand.

“I mean for more than just the way he treats you,” he explains as I pass the joint back to him. “I’ve known him for a while. We met through a mutual friend, a few years ago. Started smoking together, then started dealing together and breaking into the chain stores around here, ya know, the ones that just throw shit away while people are starving,” he begins to explain as he sinks into the couch, leaning his head back, blowing a cloud of smoke towards the drop ceiling tiles of his bedroom. I stare at him, taking another hit, hanging on to his every word. I could listen to his voice all day. “Soon he started shorting people on weed, over charging behind my back, he was jealous of how well I was doing, always trying to one up me, bragging about how he’s making more money than me, not caring how he achieved it. Then one night, he decided he was going to try and break into a store by himself, of course he chose the corner store down the street, the one owned by the little old lady,” he chuckles. “I beat the shit out of him as soon as I found out,” he takes a hit. “Pussy didn’t throw a single punch back. Just curled up on the ground. Worst part is; he didn’t even get anything. She chased him off with a broom,” he runs a hand through his long brown hair, finally looking at me as he hands me the spliff.

“Wow, I guess that’s why he seemed so scared the other day,” I giggle. I should feel bad, this guy just told me he beat my boyfriend up, but I almost want to thank him.

“That’s also why I get a discount,” he grins as smoke rolls out of his nostrils. “But for once,” he leans in closer to me. “I’m jealous of him,” I can feel his breath on my face. “Seeing you ride off in that car with him last week was painful to watch. You should have been right here with me,” he pushes a loose strand of hair out of my face, and I melt into his touch.

“Well,” I take in a shaky breath, unable to resist those coffee-colored eyes. “I’m here now, Warren.” And with that, the world ceases to spin as he crashes his lips into mine. I’m suddenly aware of my quick heartbeat, every ounce of blood flowing throw my veins, the electricity that shoots from Warrens hands into my body. The smell of smoke on his breath and the slightly stale air in the basement invades my senses. The kiss is desperate and hungry; something I haven’t felt in years. I moan into his mouth as he pulls me into his lap to straddle him.

“This is wrong, Warren,” I pull away reluctantly.

“No beautiful, it was wrong when he called me asking for Chelsea’s contact last month,” he pants. The mention of that whores name makes my blood boil. She’s his most recent side piece. “Had I known he was with you, I would have beat his ass again instead of sending it,” he says honestly, as his hand runs gently up my hip. My mind is made up in an instant. I take the joint out of his hand, inhaling one last hit before I set it in the ash tray. I slide down to the floor on my knees in between his legs before I take my sweater off, tossing it to the side.

“You’re right,” I grin as I reach for his buckle. The pop of the metal releasing ringing through my ears as I shimmy the jeans off his body. I look up at Warren through my lashes, his eyes wide staring down at me with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth. The sight makes my core tingle.

“May I?” I ask palming him through his plaid boxers, feeling his dick stiffen under my touch.

“I insist,” he grins, helping me slide the boxers off. My eyes widen at his length in front of me. He’s perfect. I take him into my hand, holding his gaze as I let spit drip from my kiss bruised lips onto his tip, allowing me to stroke him easier. He curses under his breath as I move my hand up and down his now rock hard dick. I smile to myself before wrapping my mouth around his tip, slowly moving down his length until he hits the back of my throat, then I hollow out my cheeks, as I begin to bob up and down. Warren lifts his head to take in the sight below him. He rests a gentle hand on the back of my head.

“Fuck, you look so pretty with my cock in your mouth,” he groans, instinctively moving his hips in rhythm with my head. I hum in response as I bring my other hand underneath his length to massage his balls, earning a low moan from him.

Soon he takes over, holding my head as he thrusts into my mouth. I push him in as far as possible, gagging on his length. He stands up so he can properly fuck my throat. This isn’t something that I normally do, I never allow Dakota to use me like this. But right now, I think I would let warren do absolutely anything he desires, and I would enjoy every second of it. This is the first time I’ve ever been so turned on from pleasing someone else. My underwear is soaked my arousal and he’s barely touched me. The praise and moans coming from Warren is enough to get me off. The way his eyes peer into mine as he violates my throat, bringing a gentle thumb up to wipe the tears that creep out of my eyes makes my heart flutter.

“Come here baby,” Warren pulls out of my mouth, I gasp for air as he picks my up to carry me to his bed. He pulls his shirt over his head and asks permission to pull my pants off. I nod quickly, earning a chuckle from him. “You did so good for me,” he lays a kiss on my forehead, using his shirt to wipe the tears and spit from my face, I smile at the sweet gesture. He pulls me into a kiss after climbing on top of me, both of us now completely naked. Warrens hand wonders down to my heat, dipping a finger into my entrance, I whimper at the contact. “You really got off to me fucking your throat, huh?” He smiles against my lips, feeling how wet I am for him.

“Please just fuck me Warren,” I beg. He smirks as he lines himself up with me.

“You ready, beautiful?” He asks. I nod, impatiently scooting closer to him, begging for contact. He chuckles as he slowly pushes into me. Being stretched out has never felt so good. There’s almost no pain as I easily take him, a loud moan escapes my lips

“Shh,” he smirks as he continues to push into me, stifling his own moans. “My folks are upstairs baby, not so loud,” he explains.

“I’m sorry,” I giggle. “You just feel so fucking go-“ I cut myself off with another loud moan as he begins rocking his hips at a steady pace. I clamp my hands over my mouth to muffle my moans. Warren looks down at me as he he pounds into me, a hand reaching down to hold my breast’s that are moving in rhythm with his hips.

“God, you’re so stunning,” he praises as he uses his other hand to push his curls out of his face. The sight of Warren on top of me is something that I never want to forget. If this is the last time he has his way with me, I want to remember this moment for the rest of my life. His hungry eyes that take the time to admire every inch of my body. The way his hair bounces as his cock pounds deeper inside me than anyone has ever been.

Suddenly, he pulls away, leaving me feeling empty as he lays down beside me.

“Come here darling,” he rests his back on the head board as he pulls me on top of him. “I want you to ride me. Can you do that for me baby,” he asks as he lays sloppy kisses on my neck. I giggle in response as I straddle him, happily allowing him to fill me once again. I let out a moan of relief as that void in my stomach is satisfied.

“Fuck,” Warren grunts. “You take me so well, beautiful,” he whispers as I bounce up and down on his cock. I lean forward to kiss him, muffling the moans coming from both of us. I move my hips in unison with his as his hand grips onto my ass spreading me open so he can pound as deep in me as possible. Im positive he’s leaving fingernail makes in the soft skin, but I don’t dare stop him. Warren reaches a finger down to rub circles on my clit, giving me just what I need to approach my release.

“Fuck,” I moan into our desperate, wet kiss. “Just like that Warren please,” I beg. Feeling my body heat up and my swollen cunt begin to throb. As Warren thrusts exactly where I need him, I come undone around him as I erupt in a fit of moans and praises. The euphoria quickly filling my body as my release drips onto Warrens twitching dick. He quickly throws me off of him, cum shooting up onto my chest and on to his stomach. I swiftly dip my head down, bringing him into my mouth to milk every last drop out of him.

“Fuck y/n!” He moans in surprise. Now it’s his turn to cover his mouth as he rides out his orgasm. I pull away to lay next to Warren, our chests heaving in unison.

“Holly shit,” he laughs after few minutes of comfortable silence. “That was…you were…wow,” he turns his head to smile at me, already looking at him.

“I can say the same to you,” I giggle, running my hand over his chest. He brings me in for one last kiss, this one gentle and kind.

“You can use my shower if you’d like, I’ve made quite the mess of you,” he smirks.

“Thank you,” I smile standing up. “Uhm, we’re definitely not going to tell Dakota about this, right?” I ask, suddenly feeling… not guilty… but nervous and almost excited in a strange way.

“My lips are sealed, beautiful,” he winks, taking my hand to guide me to his bathroom.

[anathemaspeaks]

whatever she wants

gojo satoru is the man who gets you whatever you want. another lip gloss? he'll give you five. a new purse? you've got it. you're hungry? best believe he's already placed an order for your favorite food and drinks.

you were his god, he would worship you all day long if you let him. he spoiled you rotten.

so naturally, he's the same in the bedroom too.

he's thrusting into you slowly, teasingly, dragging in and out his massive cock from your drenched, already overstimulated pussy. he rubs his fat, pink, flushed cockhead against your folds, tantalizingly, just short of giving you what you need.

he lets it catch onto your clit, smearing your liquids all over your pussy with his pretty tip. he lets it hit a few more times, thriving in the way you arch your back off the bed, begging for more despite how much he's already given you.

"s'pretty for me, look at you, fuck" he coos at you, warm hands running all over your body, lips ghosting yours, saliva coating both of your mouths, with his eyes drinking in the sight of you, so worn out, hickeys covering your neck and tits. all because of him.

pride swelled in his chest as he admires his work.

and my, you were a vision.

tits bouncing with every thrust, eyes clouded and teary from how fucking good he was making you feel, so very drunk on his massive dick, hair tousled and legs spread out all for him. his name on your mouth like a prayer, broken cries of "'toru please, need more, need you closer"

and oh, he could stay like this forever.

you underneath him, hopelessly at his mercy, for the fifth time that night. he loved how desperate you sounded for his cock, how filthy you looked with his cum leaking out of your squelching pussy as he continued to thrust. he loved the creamy ring on the base of his cock, proof that he had stuffed you so good.

so of course he gives you what you want. how could he not?

he snaps his hips suddenly, bottoming out in you with one sharp thrust and shit, he loses all the remnants of his self restraint. he lets out a heady groan, eyes rolling into the back of his head, bottom lip caught between his teeth.

"f-fuck, such a good girl, my good girl, hmm?" he let out in between breaths, the feeling of your pussy swallowing him whole making him delirious.

you drove him insane. cunt soaking wet, plush walls letting him abuse your poor pussy over and over, his cock plowing into you with the force of a man starved. he thrusts into you faster and faster, pushing your legs up further against your chest, groaning and whining so loud for you.

he claimed your soft lips with his again, uncharacteristically gentle for a man fucking your brains out. he trailed down hot, sloppy kisses down your neck, taking one of your tits into his warm mouth and fondling the other one with his calloused fingers.

his grip on your waist was searing into your skin as your eyes rolled into the back of your head at the new stimulation on your tits, the heat flooding your whole body, his blue eyes gazing into yours with an intensity that made you fold.

he could never get enough of you.

your hands tugged at his white hair, moving lower and gripping at his shoulders, his back, any part you could reach. he was insatiable, fucking into you so good you lost track of how many times he'd made you cum that night.

the veins of his girthy, long cock dragged against your clit just right, making you see stars in his eyes. unfiltered, filthy praises escaped his mouth, broken whines of how fucking good you feel around him, how your pussy was made for his cock.

you don't know whether it was his unrelenting speed at which he was fucking you, or the way he made out with you, slowly, so messy, a string of saliva still connecting you both once he broke away, or looking at the marks you left on his sculpted body, but all you saw was white hot pleasure.

you came hard and fast, hips bucking wildly into his touch, his pace never faltering and driving you to the edge. only he knows how he held out for so long, immediately losing himself into the feeling of you creaming around his cock and filling you up with his cum.

warm ropes of sticky, white cum oozed out from your abused pussy, hole still twitching, his warm cock resting against your belly with both of you panting to catch your breath.

"done already, 'toru?" you asked with wide eyes and a pout, missing the feeling of him inside you already.

god, yeah, you were going to be the death of him.

credits to @/saradika-graphics for dividers

[crstn-art]

my friend @budaflyhi & their roommate are Black people disabled by LC & more. their slumlord wants them out of their property by December 31st, even if it means being homeless in the Winter. & it does.

A make-ready home was promised at move-in. Immediately, that was not the case. Many home repairs, one after another. A broken fridge cost them food, multiple times. Sewage flood in basement incurred total damage to washer/dryer. A fuck-ton of unexpected costs & setbacks (that weren't their fault) later, they're being told to leave. with nothing to their name. nowhere to go. just... +3k in utility debt, and their heat shut off since April.

This GFM goal of $7k will go towards this abrupt displacement, to make it as smooth as possible. Per GFM page, their first major goal ($3k) must be reached before Nov 22nd (application & deposits). In meantime, direct don0s are needed too (through this link). In order to focus GFM, they must raise November rent early, by Monday Oct 7th. Otherwise, the 410/1030 raised so far will have to be used as survival funds & major goals will be pushed back.

The only way forward is helping this reach *beyond* the people that are *already doing what they can.*

Proof under the cut. ID's follow. TW for contamination, JIC.

pls RB, tell a friend. and thank you for it. [prev post]

(ID: 1. A camera photo of a notice of lease expiring and not being renewed. Includes mention of deposit, lease expiration date, which is December thirty first, and the date that this letter was given, which was September twenty six. It is enlarged to highlight. Some info is blanked out for privacy. 2. a screenshot of a heat slash gas bill of one thousand five hundred and sixty dollars, down from two thousand two hundred after aid from an org. 3. a picture of the basement, with a dried-out previous sewage backup around drain, chunks and bits, and wet stain visible. 4. same basement, but the entire floor flooded in wastewater. end ID.)

Lastly, aid request graphic. ID is in alt for this one.

[dollarbils]

just a taste | b.e.

vampire!billie x fem!reader

context. you’re girlfriend reveals her secret and she can’t help taking a bite of you.

warnings. mentions of blood, smut, praise, not proof read.

request masterlist

she’d revealed her secret. one she vowed to take to her grave. but what use is a secret you’ll have to keep for eternity? those are the kind that are meant to be told. especially to the ones you love.

“what the fuck?” your whisper was one of confusion, hundreds of questions forming as you watched her, in disbelief. she was sitting across from you on your shared bed.

“baby, please say something.” he voice was whiny, pleading you to express your thoughts. but all you could do was stare at her. her beauty was the quiet kind, so effortlessly perfect. her blue eyes contrasting the darkness beneath them. her skin, pale and smooth, kissed by the faintest of freckles. her sharp fangs, on full display for you.

“i-i just don’t understand.” it was a lot for you to process, and understandably so.

“fuck. i knew it was a bad idea.” she retracted her fangs and shied away from you, a sort of shame taking over.

“no baby, don’t be embarrassed. I’m just a little shocked that’s all.” you took her face in your hands, caressing her cheek as she brought her eyes back to yours, hesitant still.

“it doesn’t change what you feel for me, does it?” her eyes were wide, desperate for answers only you could give her.

“no of course not!” a smile returned to her face, and yours as you took it between your teeth.

“good.” she sighed, relief flooding her features.

“it’s kinda sexy.” she tilted her head and raised her eyebrows.

“oh yeah?” she smiled, her pearly fangs poking through her lips.

“mhm.” you swallowed her laughs when she kissed you, opening her mouth and inviting you in. your tongue ran across her teeth, exploring her raw features. her lips moved gently across your jaw as her hand snaked around your neck. she traveled lower, sucking on the your warm skin, bruising it.

“you taste wonderful, babe.” her sharp teeth grazed your sensitive skin, threatening to break the surface.

“mmm, billie.” her breath fanned over your ear as she soaked in the sound of your desperate voice.

“yes, baby?” her voice tickled the hairs on the back of your neck as she teased you with her hands.

“need you, s-so bad.” your voice was trembling, her fingers pulling at the waistband of your sweatpants. her hand squeezed your ass, as the other removed your shirt.

“yeah? say it again.” your scent drove her wild, like an animal. she was going feral. she wanted to taste you, really taste you.

“need you bils, need you to bite me.” she moaned when her lips latched onto your exposed nipple, her teeth occasionally poking your skin as she sucked on it. her fingers danced around your clothed clit, creating a wet patch on your underwear.

“are you sure?” she held eye contact, searching for hesitation.

“please, billie.” her eyes fluttered closed as she took a breath, taking in your words. she couldn’t handle it, couldn’t resist you.

“fuck, baby. just a taste.” her fingers explored your pussy as her lips came in contact with your neck. she followed your pulse, leaving soft kisses around the skin she was about to break. her breath was hot and uneven, as she gave in to her instincts and sunk her teeth into your neck.

“mm, fuck.” the initial pain had soothed and you were letting out breathy moans as she sucked your blood, while simultaneously pumping her fingers into you. she was intoxicated by your taste. you winced when she pulled her fangs out of you, catching sight of her blood-stained teeth.

“you do taste so wonderful, babe, better than i could ever have imagined.” she rambled as her focus shifted to her fingers buried deep inside of you, and your hips grinding harshly onto them. her words brought a blush to your cheeks and she pecked your lips before pulling her fingers out of you.

“billiee.” your whines were ignored as she simply took your underwear off, soon lowering her face to your heat. she bit your thigh briefly, leaving her marks on you wherever she pleased, and circled your clit with her thumb. she gathered your wetness on her tongue, groaning at the taste. she could never get enough.

“f-fuck, billie.” her mouth moved onto your stomach as her fingers got back to work, tightening the knot in your stomach. she left small bite marks all over your stomach, stretching her fingers inside of you, and curling them just right. you quickly clenched on her fingers, releasing all over your bed sheets.

“that’s right, cum all over my fingers, pretty.” her lips wouldn’t give up, tainting the any bit of skin she could reach, soothing you as you came down.

“billie, that felt so good.” you’d admitted, when her hands caressed your hips and her face met yours again.

“yeah? that’s good, cause i’m not sure i’ll be able to resist now that i’ve had a taste.”

[bigassmoth]

You tease Belphegor in bed but he wont have anyone doubting his sincerity, especially not his lover

Partially inspired by @ r0-boat for their takes on degen. Belphegor

"I missed you all week...I cant even sleep when you are gone for so long." He presses kisses to the back of your neck while lazily fucking you from behind. His arms wrapped around you, the positions intimacy makes up for the inevitable awkward thrusts.

"Uh-huh. Im sure you had an awful bout of insomnia" you laughed airely and teased him.

"What? You don't believe me?" Belphegor came to a stop and pulls away enough for you to look at him from the corner of your eye. You give him a sympathetic but wry smile.

"I just think we have different definitions of 'cant sleep'" you curl his hair back behind his ears, a show of affection that always makes his eyes flutter. Belphegor hasnt fully withdrawn from his position though.

He frowns and leans over you, completely bottoming out in the process. While he is reaching for something on the otherside of his bed, you are savoring the smooth hard metal of his piercings against your deepest walls. It feels like they are spinning when he readjusts to sit on his heels, leaving you in want of his warm chest against your back.

"Is this proof enough?" Just as Belphegor asks, something cool and wet hits your back. You reflexively jolt, making him groan.

"What-"

"Cum. Its all I can do while you are gone because I cant sleep. Especially when I know how hard you are working." His voice is a deep purr.

You hear a wet squelch against silicon and another glob of cum hits your back. Even knowing what was coming you still couldnt help but shiver.

"Belphegor Im getting cold" you chide gently, wiggling against him in hopes he will start thrusting.

Instead he squeezes another load out on your ass and follows it with a light slap. Pocket pussy discarded, now both of his hands are rubbing the cum against your skin.

"You work so hard, dont you? Sweet thing." He praises you softly, a privilege for you alone, "dont you need a massage for all those sore muscles?" He does just that, working up your back and spreading around his own cum. You are about to complain again when his knees push yours further apart to bounce his cock into you.

"Yeesss, I do." You moan in agreement, the stickiness on your skin felt uncomfortable but the stretch of his dick made it worthwhile.

"Mh-hm. I used that a lot, was bored and I couldnt sleep. You left me because you were needed elsewhere. I knew you were dealing with those rowdy punks..." his speed begins to pick up and he leaves masseuse-duty to fully grab your stomach and rock your body against his hips.

You can only moan and sigh in response, finally getting what you wanted. He leans against you again, chest pinning your shoulders. The cold metal of his clavicle piercings create a new sensation against your skin as it touches a web of cum.

"We are gonna do this until I can go back to sleep." He punctuates his sentence with a drag of his tongue behind your ear.

It's hard to form sentences and thoughts, Belphegor's pace becomes erratic and jittery. The only warning he can give you before he cums is a raspy moan and the tell-tale choking gasps of his failure to maintain control. Your groan is dwarfed by his own as your hole floods with cum. His hands are tightening on you as he sloppily continues to push into you with a now softening cock.

"All good?" you question him casually while your face is stuffed into the sheets, reaching behind to smooth back his hair. Belphegor is gasping.

"Been cumming so much, didn't realize how sensitive I got." He groans and finally pulls out with a wet squelch. Knowing demon stamina you aren't worried about him tapping out just yet, especially not when his hand slides forward to play with your sex. His rubs himself between your ass cheeks. "Thinking about fucking you."

He leans in close again and pins you to the bed as he reinserts his cock and his hand rubs rough circles against your front. Caught between unrelenting digits that kept teasing you to the point of pain, and his still-quivering thrusts.

"Nhm, Belphegor I'm good I-" You are raising your hips to escape his hand, preferring the stretch of his dick to the burning overstimulation of his fingers.

"Nah, if I hurt then you can hurt a little too, right?" He fully sheathes himself into your hole and begins grinding. With his weight pressing on you, the piercings which had previously been savory ribbing against your walls became hard fixations.

You are clawing at the bed now, wriggling under him as your orgasm rips through you and then slips away to painful but addictive overstimulation.

"Feels good, doesn't it? Being teased until you're all red and swollen. Kept thinkin' about it." Belphegor was rarely this chatty but hours of yearning for you has made him talkative, "my piercings started leavin' impressions on that pocket pussy."

While he talks you come again, it's a good thing he is talking directly into your ear because you are too lightheaded to understand him otherwise.

"Beleth said you would like to have those same marks. Shape you to only fit my dick." His voice is dark and raspy as he cums again, just thinking about it making his balls empty, "So next time you're out there being a little hard worker," He gets hard again, "You're gonna be calling out for me to press you where you need to be pressed."

[bits-and-babs]

𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄 – 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐎'𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀

↳ summary: Miguel, believing he understands the extent of his mutation, takes a bite. Only- you don't react the way he expects. At all.

↳ pairing: Miguel O'Hara x f!Reader

↳ content [4.2k]: 18+ MDNI. SMUT, literally 4k words of porn without plot with a little extra at the end. Miguel's venom is sex pollen (therefore DUB-CON by default), biting, blood drinking (I know he’s not a vampire, I don’t care), oral (f receiving), fingering, use of name mami because I am disgusting, unprotected p in v sex. Not proof read, possibly OOC, I haven't seen ITSV, I was forced to write this against my will (jk) ((but not really)).

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Crimson burns itself into your retinas as Miguel steps into your line of sight, and the spider-skull hybrid symbol emblazoned across his vast chest swallows your vision. Brown locks of hair drape across his forehead, over his lashes, and frames the intense scarlet gaze he levels you with. Staring up at the impossibly tall man through your heavy lids, you catch the tick in his jaw, the muscle twitching when he reaches towards your neck and traces his fingertip across the length of your jugular vein with a delicate touch. It tickles, skittering across your goosepimpled skin above your bludgeoning pulse.

"Shut it," he speaks flatly, the quiet lilt of his tone amplified by the silence in the room. Your heart thuds painfully hard against your ribs at the sound of his voice, your toes curling when Miguel settles his thumb and forefinger under the curve of your jaw. His palm stretches the length of your throat, fingers splayed across your neck. You can feel the knuckles of his pinky dig into your collarbone, a reminder of just how massive the wingspan of his hand is. 

"I- I didn't-" you fumble, the words dissipating when you see the fleshy pink of Miguel's tongue drag over the enamel daggers that protrude from his lips. The slight squeeze of his hand across your throat impedes any attempts to regain your train of thought, blood rushing to your head as he applies pressure to the vital blood flow to your brain. 

"I can hear you," he insists, a snarl curling his lips as bitter irritation flashes across his face, burning in the carmine of his irises, "Can hear what you're thinking."

Heat floods your cheeks, prickling warmth proliferating and creeping down your throat. Miguel seems anguished by the sensation of your heart palpitations pounding against the fissures of his palm, his thick, dark brows pinching together as he wets his full lips with the flat of his tongue. 

"Stay still," he urges you, a twinge of something that sounded as though he was pleading sparking through your nervous system. Crushing your eyelids closed, red and navy rotate in kaleidoscopic swirls in your vision as you feel Miguel's hair brush against the curve of your cheek. You whimper softly and flinch at the sensation of the tip of his nose skirting the angle of your neck. You hear him inhale, drawing the intoxicating scent of you into his lungs before letting out a groan, the exhale fanning across your skin. 

"Just a taste," he husks, mindless as he squeezes your neck harder. The pad of Miguel's thumb probes your thrumming pulse, and he moans loudly when he feels your heart lurch at the soft drag of his fangs against your throat. 

"Miguel-" you choke out, his feral grip tightening at the sound of your voice. 

"Fuck," he whispers, whimpers, slowly sinking the point of his fangs into the delicate flesh across the nape of your neck. You cry out, the pain of the punctures pinching sharply, and bury your nails into the expansive muscle of his bicep. Miguel's chest heaves dramatically, brushing your arm with each shuddering inhale as your blood seeps across his tongue. 

It's an odd sensation, the suction of his lips as he draws your ichor into his mouth, but it simmers deep and low in your abdomen, the weird feeling made worse by the vibration of his delighted moan. The gulping sounds his throat made echo in your ears, and you can almost imagine the flutter of his thick lashes as he lathes his tongue over the puncture wounds. 

Miguel inhales deeply as though he's chugged a pint of water, his lips barely departing from your weeping wound as he mumbles to himself repeatedly; just a taste, just a taste–

His wanton tone dries your mouth, your head throbbing with a mind-numbing migraine as you feel the muscles in your body tense. Coated in blood, Miguel chases the blood that had settled into the cracks of his lips with his tongue and savours the last morsels he can find.  

You could cry. Could burst into tears on the spot because Miguel looks gorgeous. He always did, always made your stomach flip when he entered the room and cast his brooding gaze over you, but you felt breathless as you gazed at him now, weightless. 

Fuck, he's so beautiful. His rich, dark features all fight for your attention; the arc of his cheekbones, long lashes dipped low as he takes you in and the way his obscenely large muscles ripple as he leans back to look you in the eyes. 

Blinking slowly, you whine when Miguel leans back into your throat for another taste. Something warm pools in the depths of your stomach when his tongue drags over the chords of your neck. Fuck- are you turned on right now?!

"Hng-Hot," you mumble in embarrassment, feeling a prickling warmth creep over your body. The damp sensation of perspiration clings to your forehead, moistening your hairline as Miguel pulls away from your throat to look you in the eye with a hmm?

"Hot," you repeat, the simmering sensation rapidly roiling to a scalding temperature. "'S too hot, Miguel–"

The fabric of your clothes clings to your back, your fingers itching to rip the material from your body. Miguel looks perplexed by your sudden lack of composure, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion as his eyes flick between your own. 

"Your pupils," he assesses, tone clinical as he reaches to take your chin into his hand once more, "They're dilated– you look sick."

The instant his fingertips brush the skin of your cheeks, you flinch from the scorching sensation that sparks beneath his touch. You pinch your eyelids together, letting out a sob of his name as you frantically attempt to push him away. 

"Miguel, no!" Your voice strains, pleading that Miguel stays away from you despite the evident worry that curls his fingers into tight fists. Fuck, why are you thinking of jumping his bones? It's desperate, a carnal need to rip that stupid fucking fancy lycra suit from his enormous, sexy muscles. You could grind your hips across those abs, ease the sudden pulse in your clit-

You wheeze, the stifling temperature causing your body to shift to autopilot as you pinch the hem of your shirt between your trembling fingers. "Hurts–"

"I cannot help if you push me awa-" Miguel's vexed attempt to reprimand your childish behaviour does little to knock you back to your senses, your eyes dragging the length of his ridiculously formed body with a searing desperation that stops him in his tracks. "What are you doing?"

"Hot, it's too fucking hot, Migu– Shut up–" you beg him for silence, his voice only worsening the frantic, irregular thrum of your heart. It's fruitless, though, because the flitting of his eyes across your body is enough to arc the arousal that blooms through you. 

Concern finally begins to worm its way into Miguel's body language, his hands searching over the messy countertops. He clears his throat, attempting to maintain his composure. 

"Blood sample," he speaks with that air of finality he always led with, "I will take a blood sample. You may be having a reaction to somethi-"

Shame does little to reason with your wandering hands, yanking your t-shirt over your head as he speaks. You're following what he says, but your mind lags behind like a faulty video-call signal. Blood sample, mhm-hmm, yeah, god, you wanna fuck him so bad– reaction?

When you finally pull your head from the neckline of your t-shirt, you find Miguel rooted in place. A needle rests in his loose grip, and he holds it aloft as if ready to take the sample from your arm– but it appears his plan is obliterated as his eyes zero in on your tits, his usually stoic expression rendered astonished by the view in front of him.

"... It's the venom," he rasps, slowly, achingly slowly, dragging his eyes back to your face, "You're reacting to the venom." 

Perhaps it should be a relief that Miguel is a genius and that he'd managed to deduce the reason for your severe discomfort reasonably quickly, or maybe you should feel more concerned that you're experiencing a severe reaction to a venom that he held in his fucking teeth, but the sheer desperation to ease the arousal pooling between your thighs overtook any and all fear. Instead, you frenziedly shove your hand down the waistband of your jeans... Right in front of Miguel. 

"Aye- easy, easy–" he attempts to placate you, but once again, he finds himself lost for words as he watches you flop back into your desk chair, head lolled back and thighs spread wide as you undeniably rub at your clit beneath the denim of your jeans. 

"Ahaaa-" you wail, tears welling in your eyes and slipping down your temples as you rock your hips up to meet the friction of your fingertips, "S'not enough, Miguel- it's not enou- it hurts." 

It's disgusting; the wet squelch of your fingers entering your cunt practically bouncing off the walls. An anguished groan rattles in your chest as you cum. The sensation is as though your orgasm has been spoilt, the ecstasy that accompanied a climax instead curdling into a painful need for more. Slick weeps into the crotch of your panties and jeans, and you rip your hand from your jeans to tear the whole stupid item of clothing over your hips as they arch off the seat. 

"Cariño," you hear Miguel's soft voice urge you to look at him, and your vision blurs as you glance up with tear-soaked eyelashes. You sob when your eyes finally focus, observing the blackness of Miguel's eyes as he watches you get off. The wet sounds get louder, more hurried as you frantically rub your clit at the sight of him, the sound of his voice.

"I can help you," he promises, voice firm. The declaration pulls another devastatingly cruel orgasm from you, your back arching off the seat as if attempting to escape the brutally painful orgasm that does nothing to satiate the toxins Miguel had accidentally inserted into your bloodstream. 

"Yes," you pant loudly, tears streaming down your face as you nod your head wildly in agreement. The ethics of this agreement, sex with him, are lost on you at this moment, far too occupied with the notion of stopping the debilitating clench of your cunt and nerve-searing heat beneath your skin. 

Miguel says nothing as he strides forward, crossing the line of demarcation you had drawn between the two of you effortlessly with his broad stride. His hands immediately find the waistband of your jeans, where they settle just above your knees, and shucks them from your legs as you continue to appeal for mercy. 

"Please," you beg, grasping the arms of the office chair so hard that they threaten to splinter between your fingers. Miguel simply scowls at you from his position between your thighs, kneeling down on the floor and peeling back your drenched panties to gain access to your dripping, fluttering cunt. "Please, Migu-ughhh!" 

Miguel leads with his tongue, pulling the entire length across your engorged clit so slowly that your toes cramp when they curl. You sob loudly, fat tears streaking down your cheeks and throat as you rock your hips up against his face. It's rough and messy, and your clit bumps his nose each time you thrust upwards despite the vice-like grip that Miguel holds on your thighs. 

"Oh my god-" you keen, your fingers grasping onto the hair at the crown of his head to brace against the onslaught of pleasure that drenches you, "Oh fu-fuhuck- don'tcumdon'tcum-" you ramble, eyes rolling back into your skull as the tip of his tongue draws lazy circles around your clit.

"F-Fuck- fuck me-" you wheeze, expelling all the oxygen from your lungs when his fingers prod at the slick entrance of your pussy. 

"Shut up," he rasps, slowly sinking the first two joints of his index finger into your wet heat. He watches your hips raise, thighs spreading wide as you wordlessly whine. "Do not speak."

It's cruel, but there's no malice to his words because he shifts his wrist slightly and sinks the entire length of his index finger into you. You rock forwards to meet it, feeling yourself clench around the intrusion. Miguel can feel it too, you're sure of it, because he lets out a devastatingly sexy hum before dropping his head down to tongue your clit again. 

You try; you truly do, but the mixture of Miguel's tongue on your clit and his fingertip just barely missing a calamitous spot inside you launches the words from your throat before you can stop them. 

"F-Please-" you gasp, "Please let me taste you. Ohh- please don't stop- j-just put it in my mouth, I wanna feel the stretch of it in my thro–" 

"Quiet," Miguel snaps, his voice strained as he pulls back from your clit but hastens his finger's movements. It's there- it's right fucking there, that spot inside you that you know will eviscerate every atom in your body. Your head falls back again, your spine lifting from the chair as you brace against the rising threat of your orgasm. 

"I'm- Oh fuck, I-aham gonna cum-" you sob towards the ceiling, rocking your hips down and taking his maddeningly long digit even deeper. Miguel hums in acknowledgement, resting his still tongue on your clit for you to fuck yourself on. The barbarically wet sound of you sinking onto the length of his finger reaches your ears and–

Sudden, painful bliss bursts through you, a garbled slur of Miguel's name tearing through your throat as static rings in your ears. You feel yourself clench and flutter around his fingers, Miguel's tongue lapping at your pulsing clit and hurling you even further into the rapture that streams through your body. 

Your thighs tremble on either side of his head, knees draped over his robust shoulders. Miguel groans softly and licks and sucks on the mess you've made, slick smeared all over his mouth, chin and nose. You can barely move, your muscles screaming in exhaustion, but-

"M-Miguel-" you whine, shaking your head with tears in your eyes, "M-more, I need more-" 

"Dios mío, mami," he groans into your cunt, and you see white. His oddly affectionate name for you resets your orgasm, and you're teetering over it again. Your feet brace against his back, pushing your heels into the thick, chorded muscles to pull him impossibly closer to your pussy. It's as though your hips have a mind of their own, grinding feverishly against Miguel's pretty nose. 

Through the blur of your ecstasy, you see Miguel's brows lift in surprise in a wordless question of 'already?' It's all you need, euphoria smashing through every nerve ending and setting them ablaze. It soaks his face even more, you feel it gush, and Miguel rumbles with the most delectable groan. At the peak of your orgasm, he inserts a second finger. It brushes against that mind-bending spot inside you that makes your body writhe when the ridges of his fingertips tease the neglected pleasure centre. 

Strands of your hair cling to your sweat-damp face, dried tear tracks wetted again by the flow of more of the salty liquid from your eyes. You look absolutely wrecked; you feel it. So why did your clit still pulse with need when Miguel withdrew his cum-soaked face? 

"God, I wanna fuck you so bad," you ramble, voice stripped hoarse by your constant barrage of whines and moans. 

Glancing down, you note the tight pinch of Miguel's eyebrows. He's straining against the skin-tight material of the suit, the thin canvas clinging to his body so well that you see the lurch of his cock as he licks your cum from his lips. "We should do this all the time-"

Miguel rudely interrupts you, using his godlike strength to effortlessly hoist you from that stupid office chair. He doesn't bother taking you somewhere comfortable, your panting breaths and writhing hips evidence you wouldn't last the thirty-second walk to the sofa. Instead, he drapes you over his workbench, discarding the invaluable equipment over the table's edge and spreading your thighs wide. 

"Never again," Miguel insists, but he'd already revealed his weak constitution at the beginning of the ludicrous mess. Just a taste, he'd said, before leaning in for more of your blood. That same lack of self-discipline infects him now; you can see it in his eyes as he strips himself of the ridiculous spider suit and presses his cock against your fluttering cunt. 

You can feel it, the size of the bulbous head that sweeps through your slick folds. It brushes over your clit, the velvety skin rendering you helpless to the heavenly pleasure that bursts through you. But-

"It's not- it's not gonna go in-" you whimper softly, stretching your arms out to push his hips away desperately. "Oh god, Miguel- I can't take that-"

"You will," he nods firmly with a jut of his chin. He's determined; his eyes alight when you writhe beneath him. It's so loud, the sound of your leaking cunt soaking the underside of his cock in your slick. "You're drenching me, Cariño; you can take it."

Miguel notches at your entrance for emphasis, lightly pushing against where your flesh gives way to his adamant intrusion. The smooth, rounded head threatens to sink inside of you, stretch you impossibly wide. "Dios-" Miguel grunts, bowing his head low. His shoulders tremble, hips frozen in place as he takes deep, shuddering breaths. Wha-

"What's wrong?" You stiffen at the worrying body language he's displaying. Had you done something wrong? Did he not want to go through with it now-?

Another quivering exhale expels from Miguel's lungs, his huge hands gripping onto your hips as though they were the only thing preventing him from plunging from the side of a New York skyscraper. It's bruising you, ten sharp points jabbing into your skin, but the pain encourages the pleasure. It's too much. 

"So fucking tight," Miguel wheezes, rocking his hips forward slightly. He's met with resistance despite how your head hangs from the edge of the desk, wailing a mixture of profanities and his name at the ceiling. "It's too fucking tight, mami; you gotta relax-"

"Miguel!" You sob in anguish, tears sliding from the corners of your eyes settle in the hair at your temples. "It hurts- I need it so bad, c-can't wait- just fucki-" 

A snarl rips up Miguel's throat, using his grip on your flesh to pull your hips back onto his as he plunges forward. You see his nostrils flare, the flash of his fangs before the white-hot bliss rocks through you, his cock slipping past your walls and burying itself to the hilt in one heavy push. 

Your sharp inhale stretches the mass of your lungs as your fingers dig into the tanned skin of his forearms. Pain stabs through your abdomen, and the sudden thrust ripples pain through your expression before the excruciating arc of bliss surges when you feel the head of his cock nudge against your cervix. 

"Holy shit-" you squeak out, nails stabbing bloody crescent moons into the rippling muscles you hold onto, "I can-ahan't! Fuck, Miguel, you- hgnnnn fuck!"

It's as though Miguel loses control of his hips. He begins to ram into you, his flesh slapping against your own and echoing and ricocheting off the walls. Damp sweat already clings to his body from the exertion, each harsh slam into you pushing your trembling body up the length of his desk. 

"Hah," he gasps out when you involuntarily squeeze around the girth of his cock, Miguel's eyes snapping to your own in a frenzy, "So tight for me, Cariño. This little cunt's so greedy for me." 

The pistoning of his throbbing cock into your sickeningly wet pussy has your mind spinning, the velvet of his voice numbing your mind like some kind of neurotoxin. You're drenching the both of you, the thighs you'd locked around his waist slipping down his hips as you struggle to brace against the onslaught of your arousal. 

"M-Miguel-!" You croak, voice wrecked. 

His dark eyebrows pinch together as he continues his devastating pace. "So fucking greedy. Always looking at me with those eyes. You think I don't- fuck- don't hear your dirty thoughts about me?" 

Whining loudly, the embarrassment does little to quell the rising orgasm that prickles the edges of your body. It feels enormous, threatens to tear your body apart at the seams and stitch you back together all wrong. Like you'd never feel complete again without the delicious stretch of Miguel's cock.

"I can feel it," Miguel murmurs, voice uncharacteristically soft despite the way he's brutalising your cunt, "Can you? I can feel you squeezing me- fuck, you're so fucking wet, mami-"

"S-Shut up–" you hiccup, voice sounding distant to your own ears. It feels like your nails have burrowed down to the calcium of Miguel's radius and ulna, your grip vice-like as you steel against the terrifying sensation of a universe-altering orgasm quickly approaching. 

Miguel's neck flexes, veins bulging against his bronzed skin as the swell threatens to take over. 

"Come on. Ah, fuck- fuck, you're gonna cum again. Come on," he urges you, dark eyes flitting over you as Miguel reaches to push the pad of his thumb against your clit. 

It barely brushes the fraught nerves before ecstasy settles between each of your vertebrae. Your pussy flares, gripping onto the throbbing thickness of him. Shaking violently, your thighs squeeze Miguel's waist as everything tightens, pulses, spasms. Anguished, pained wails pour from your lips in a deluge, jaw slack, debilitating ecstasy rendering you utterly helpless to the instinctual motions of your body. You're rocking up against him while simultaneously attempting to escape the sensation. 

A rumble vibrates through Miguel's chest as he dips his head low, sweat-drenched ebony strands of his hair falling in his eyes as he focuses on how you tighten around him. 

"Oh fuck, yes," Miguel's voice pierces through your mind-numbing bliss, all lilted and pitchy, "That's it, mami, that's what I need- th-that- oh fuck–"

It's a heavenly sight, the way his body flexes and ripples above you as he buries his cock into you, down to the hilt. Miguel's dark, gorgeous eyes roll back in his head, eyelashes fluttering as his orgasm is pulled from him. You feel the hot, thick spurts of cum paint your walls as he empties his load over and over and over. You're exhausted, powerless to do anything other than bathe in the sensation of your cunt convulsing around Miguel's throbbing cock. 

A heavy exhale fans across your face as Miguel's hands settle on either side of your head, the two of you fighting to draw oxygen into your burning lungs. The blazing need that had charred your abdomen ebbs into smothered embers, and you peer up at Miguel with a mindless, dazed expression. 

He doesn't move, his softening cock still buried in your cunt as his hands tighten into fists beside your ears. Miguel opens his eyes, a heavy glare aiming at the corner of the room, at nothing in particular, as he attempts to come down from whatever height you'd thrown him to. 

"That-... That's not what's supposed to happen."

☆☆☆

Bright, florescent lights beat down on you in the doctor's office, and you squint against their intrusion in your eyes but also the dull, painful throb of your brutalised cunt. You should be curled up in bed, mortified by the mindblowing sex you'd just had with Miguel and drafting up a text message to tell him you will never be seeing him again due to the ruinous humiliation you felt every time you recalled the stupid shit you'd said. 

Instead, you were simmering in that very same awkwardness, but with Miguel settled back in the seat beside you. He's wallowing in his own form of abashed grief as he awaits the results of your blood tests from the man in the white coat across the table from you. 

"Aha, here we go!" The indecently cheery doctor cuts through the tense, funeral-like atmosphere that had settled between the both of you. The mouse in his hand clicks as he sorts through the file, reading it through. "They've just come in now." 

"Is it anything I should be worried about?" Miguel speaks before you can draw breath, and you don't fail to note the word I. Why is he worried?!

"No, not at all," the doctor smiles, glancing between the two of you as he taps the computer screen with his finger. You can feel Miguel settle, the tense energy that had been drawing his shoulders up tight seeming to dissipate with the threat of danger ruled out. 

... What? 

"Elevated heart rate, the sweats, shivers, flushed skin, pain," the doctor reads through your list of symptoms that Miguel had given before you'd even stepped into the doctor's office. Conveniently, he'd left out the more obvious traits that had taken precedence over the milder afflictions. "While these are all very scary, it's not much to worry about."

"So then, what happened?" Your voice is a mumble, hoarse from the strain of your activities with Miguel.

The doctor smiles, a shrug lifting his shoulders to evidence his lack of concern. "Says here you just have an allergy to spider bites."

Miguel, usually stoic and indecipherable, sinks into his seat with an expression that bleeds mortification.

... Oh. 

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[poppy-metal]

dbf pat beating the fuck out of your cheating asshole douchebag boyfriend. im talking so bad it's like that scene from jennifer's body where they say the guy jen killed looked like "lasagna with teeth"

my tip will get sticky stop.... protective older patrick..... nevermind the guy is pretty much in the same vein he used to be in college - he needs to be a heartless sack of shit to someone other girl. not you. putting a bag of iced peas on his knuckles for him later, patrick thought you'd be smiling ear to ear. these days - any proof that patrick cared about you, you took in stride. when he gave an inch - you took it as a mile, and all that.

but your bottom lip is jutted out and you look sad and you have tears teetering on your lashes like raindrops and he fucking hates it when you cry. "fuck that guy." because thats what you're upset about. "dont cry over him."

but you shake your head - dart your eyes up to his face and sniffle. you lift the frozen peas to look at the red, inflamed flesh of his knuckles. frown at it and press the pack back down. "you got hurt over me." you tell him. you wont look at him now, even though he ducks his head to try and catch your eyes. "m'always causing you trouble." you sound like you're about to cry over it.

and well. "sure fucking do." but he hooks the stool you're sitting on and jerks it closer to him when you blink and make to stand up. you fall back on your ass when you're brought in, letting out a squeak. this time when patrick hooks his chin down, you meet his gaze with yours. "but I'm an adult - "

"so am i -"

"- barely. dont interrupt me. I mean. im the responsible party here. i could make you fuck off. but I don't."

you look at his lips. wet and pink and you wonder what the scruff of his stubble would feel like against your jaw. so different from the baby soft chin of her ex she's used to. a mans mouth. a mans lips on hers. a mans tongue inside her mouth.

"but you dont." you echo, leaning closer to him. he smells so good. like something intensely.... male. sweat but good sweat. something minty. cologne? it made your mouth water. his hand in your lap with the frozen peas flexes as you draw nearer. "you should just give in -"

a hand comes up, his finger halting your mouth from getting closer. he keeps it there for a second, before his palm skates down your throat - and his hand wraps around your neck.

"you really want me to fuck you?" he says, almost to himself. he sounds like hes really just realizing that for the first time, even though you've made that obvious for awhile now. so you dont answer, you just look at him. like, duh, dude. he exhales. his thumb presses into a pulse point on your throat. "you'd let me do whatever the fuck i wanted to you."

thats not a question. you swallow. he feels the motion under his palm. feels the spit travel down your throat.

"it turned me on so much to see you beat my boyfriend up." you breathe, honest. "im still wet over it."

"hes not your boyfriend." his hand tightens momentarily around you. his eyes are hard on yours. he's serious about that. no fucking around. "you go back to him and I'll beat your ass instead of his next time for being fucking stupid."

your lashes flutter. you inhale. he probably knew what threatening you like that did to you. he probably knew your little cunt just flooded with slick at the tone of his voice - at the mere threat of his hands on your ass.

you lick your lips, "yes sir."

he breathes out a quiet, 'shit.' dropping his hand from your throat. he pulls his injured hand from your lap. it'd stopped hurting ages ago. it'd just felt nauseatingly good to be doted on. he was fucking sick.

you watched him as he stood up, ran a hand through his hair.

you asked, "when are you gonna give me what i want?"

and he looked at you. jaw working side to side. you sounded so goddamn sure of yourself. like it was only a matter of time. like it was inevitable that he'd fuck you.

he needed a fucking cigarette.

"go to bed, you fucking brat."

he brushed by you - because you'd managed to needle your way into spending the night at his again. he was already fishing a pack out of his pocket, tapping a cigarette free when you called out behind him, "you have a really great ass!"

he knew he did. he threw a glare at you over his shoulder, cigarette dangling between his lips. you giggled.

[endlessthxxghts]

Forget

Joel Miller x afab!reader || W/C: 618 (lil baby one today xx)

Summary: You're stressed, sad, and every painful emotion you can think of. Joel comes home, and you give him only one option in how he can comfort you.

Content/Warnings: No physical description of reader. Reader is so sad and full of emotion, she just wants Joel to help her forget. Literal porn from the get-go, so SMUT 18+ MDNI. Joel has a dirty, never-ending mouth. He talks sooo much and he talks ya through it... Daddy kink (only used twice and both at the beginning). Thigh riding. Allusion to P in V sex. Did I mention Joel is really vocal?🥴😵‍💫 Pictures are for aesthetic purposes only (credit to pinterest).

A/N: It has been a really stressful few weeks, and an even more stressful few days. Because I'm stressed, I kept thinking of Joel helping me de-stress, and this was born at 1am. I completely left Joel open to interpretation, so you can imagine him however you want! Whatever fits your sexiest fantasies hehe. This is not proof-read either... sorry about any mistakes! Much love. Enjoy.

MASTERLIST

“Just needa forget, don’tcha, sweet girl?”

“F-fuck, y-yes, daddy,” you whimper, your pussy soaked and pulsing as you grind back and forth on his thigh. 

“That’s it. Just like that, darlin’. Daddy’s got ya,” Joel says, his hands on your hips, guiding the pressure and speed of your movement. 

Joel just got home half an hour ago. His first sight was you, a sobbing mess on his couch. Baby, what’s wrong? He said as he rushed and crouched down to your side. You immediately wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug first then grabbing his face and smashing your lips against his. Talk later you mumbled, need you you said as your lips lingered to his jaw, nipping little bites on your journey down. He pulled you off of him roughly, muttering an up as he scrambled to get himself on the couch, situating you into a straddle onto him. You were already wearing solely your underwear, so the moment your pussy made contact, you knew you were done for. 

Now, here you are, on your way to your second climax on his thick muscle as he utters sweet praises in his thick, honeyed drawl that you could drink up for eternity. 

“Doin’ so fuckin’ good for me, baby, such a good fuckin’ girl.” 

“Almost there, baby, soak me one more time.” 

“Get yourself nice and wet for me, mama, so I can fuck you real good.” 

“Fuck all those fuckin’ thoughts right out that pretty little head of yours.” 

My God, the mouth on this fucking man. With the help of his words, you’re so wound up, your hips are moving impossibly faster, chasing that second, much needed high. 

“Please-” you let out, head falling back between your shoulder blades, your neck that he loves to mark beautifully on display for him. 

His one hand leaves your hips and situates it to your jaw, gripping you tightly and forcing you to look into his eyes. 

“Give it to me, baby. Give it to me, and I’ll give you what you’re so fuckin’ desperate for.” 

“Fuck,” you’re louder now, your wails reverberating throughout the walls of his home. “Joel-” you gasp out. 

“I’ve got ya, just let go, sweet girl.”

Your hips stutter, and within moments you’re flooding his thigh — warm, sticky, and drenched — fireworks exploding beneath your eyelids as your entire body is overtaken with a buzz only he has the ability to give you. 

Both his hands are cradling your face now, caressing the apples of your cheeks as you recover.

“Always such a good girl f’me,” he says as he pulls your face into his for a soft kiss, your hands finding solace in the planes of his chest. 

Out of breath, you rest your entire body on his, not caring about the mess underneath you right now. He wraps an arm around your waist, his other hand cradling the back of your head as he scratches his fingers through the base of your scalp. You hum in content. 

“Thank you,” you whisper into his chest. 

He uses his hand in your hair to gently ease you into looking up at him. He kisses your lips, then your forehead. “Not done with you yet, darlin’. Just givin’ ya a breather,” he smirks. 

“Oh, I know, baby,” you reply, a lopsided, mischievous grin spread across your face. 

He glances at your lips, then back to your eyes. “I love you,” he says. The warmth of it satiating and comforting you more than anything ever could. 

“I love you,” you tell him, hoping you can translate everything you feel for him in those three, powerful little words. 

He taps your rear. “Bedroom?” 

“Please.” 

Hi, all <3 I'm really sorry if I don't post as much this month - I really need to get my mental health back up first. I'm not completely disappearing though, I promise you that. I could never go more than a few weeks without writing something. Some of these next couple of posts may be self-indulgent and for purposes of my own comfort, but I still would like to share them with you all. Writing is an art form, a way to express ourselves, and if anyone can find comfort in anything I create, then that is why even in my own hard times, I continue to spread the beautiful intricacies of written word. I love you all. 💚

Tags: @javierpena-inatacvest @katiexpunk @janaispunk @farmerlarrry @mellymbee @jobee403 @soavenuepenguin @rainbowcosmicchaos @untamedheart81 @lilynotdilly @babygal-babygal @pedritoferg @pedrostories @akah565 @getitoutofmymind @joels-shitty-puns @its-nebuleuse @la-vie-est-une-fleur29

Please let me know if you'd like to stopped being tagged! Even if you're my moot, let me know. No hard feelings, I promise. Xx

EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!

[pholla-jm]

Tickle Time?

IMAGINE: TICKLE TIME? ~ SATORU X READER GENRE: FLUFF cw: not proof read. slightly suggestive. nsfw implied. use of mommy. father!satoru. you and satoru have a son. *********

Breakfast was laid out on the table, and the three of you sat peacefully eating the breakfast you had made.  Or so you thought it would be peaceful. 

As you were drinking your morning tea, you watched your son, who was barely eating. He was scraping the eggs against the plate with his forks. His gaze narrowed at your husband- his father in a harsh glare. 

Satoru seemed to be completely ignorant of the dirty look that his son was giving him. Instead, his gaze was on you, completely love-stricken.  You wonder if Satoru had done anything to upset Aoto. Knowing Satoru, he could have just woken him up wrong. 

With a soft sigh, you place down your cup, wanting to get to the bottom of this. 

“Aoto,” you called out and his attention immediately went to you.  The glare was completely gone as he looked at you full of love… but there was something else. It looked like he was a bit worried. 

“Yes, mama?”  “Is everything okay?” 

Aoto grins at you, and he nods his head. But you can tell that something was wrong. 

“Are you sure? You’ve been glaring at daddy for quite a while.” 

Upon hearing that he was involved, Satoru’s eyes widened. 

“What did I do?” Satoru asks Aoto.  His glare turned back to his father and you could tell he was upset. 

“You hurt mommy.” He simply says, causing you to be a bit confused. You couldn’t remember if Satoru had hurt you, accidentally or not.  Satoru’s jaw drops a little, “I did not.” 

“Baby, what are you talking about? Daddy doesn’t hurt me.” You tell him Aoto looks back at you with a pout now on his lips. “Yes, he did! I heard him last night. And… and you were crying. Telling him to stop. B-but daddy’s a meanie and he didn’t listen!” Aoto cries out, fat tears now rolling down his face.

Your stomach drops at his words and you can feel your face turning red.  Satoru bursts out laughing at his words only causing Aoto’s frustrations to grow. “Stop laughing! It isn't funny.” More tears fell down his face and all you could think about was how you were going to get out of this situation. 

“Awe, baby. No, no. It’s okay. Come here.” You say pushing your chair out and holding your arms out for him.  Aoto wastes no time jumping out of his chair and running into your arms. You wrap your arms around him, his head resting on your chest. You immediately felt the tears wetting your shirt as he continued to cry. 

“Hush now.” You say while stroking his white hair and glaring at Satoru, “daddy didn’t hurt me.” 

Aoto sniffles and looks up at you. His nose and eyes were tinged a bit red. “Really?”

Satoru stands up from his chair to stand behind the both of you.  “Really.” He says, arms wrapping around the both of you.

However, his words of assurance did nothing to ease Aoto. His pout turned into a scowl and he was right back to glaring at Satoru.  “Really! We were just playing a game.” Satoru says, starting to get a little offensive. 

Aoto looks back at you, “what game?” “Uh… the tickle game.” 

“Tickle game?” 

Finding some confidence in your answer, you kept going. “Yeah. The tickle game. Daddy wasn’t playing fair.”  Satoru scoffs a little, “you started it.” He whispers.

You shoot him a glare, your hand shooting out to lightly slap his arm. “Now's not the time.”

“Is that why you were crying?” Aoto asks and you nod. 

You feel relief flood your system when Aoto accepts your answer. Completely believing what you and Satoru had told him. Which reminded you that you were going to have a very stern talk with Satoru later. 

Just when you thought everything was resolved...

“Can I play the tickle game too?”

[astrid-sorensen]

Desirous | Joel Miller x f!reader

Word count: short and sweet 0.8k

Warnings: smut, breeding kink, cum play? Pregnancy

A/N: sorry this isn’t great, wrote it on a whim and couldn’t be fucked to fully proof read it so I thought I’d just post it anyway! Thank you for all my love on my last post, ideas for part 2s welcome!

MASTERLIST

For as long as you had known Joel, he would always say the same thing.

“I’m sorry darlin, I can’t.”

No matter how many times you’d plead and beg, it would always be the same stinging answer. No.

After a lovely evening spent with Joel, celebrating your one year anniversary of being together. You couldn’t stop the tears from falling as he dropped to your side, his thick white load dripping slowly down your back and onto the clean sheets.

You squashed your face into the pillow, the Texans thick huffs slowing as he regained his breath.

“Darlin, whats wrong?” His softness met the curve of your ear. “Hmmm?”

“Doesn’t matter.” You grumbled, lowly. Your stuffed nose making the words come out harsher than expected.

“Of course it matters baby, you’re crying.” He coos. “Was I too rough?”

“No that’s not it.” You answer speedily.

“What is it then?” Joel recollects the other times he’s seen your face like this after sex. It takes him a minutes but then it’s there.” Oh, Is it because I pulled out again?”

Bingo

You nod a handful of times, unable to make eye contact. “C’mere.”

He pulled you onto his lap, your back flush against his broad bare chest. His arms wrapped around your middle his chin tucking into your shoulder.

“M’sorry d’ya remember what we talked about? If I fill you with my sperm, you could get pregnant. It’s not safe for you.”

“I know, but- but it feels like you don’t want me.”

“Baby, if it were up to me I’d fuck this beautiful cunt with my cum all day long.” He said, one huge hand going down towards your pelvis and rubbing at the bone. “I promise baby, once it’s safer, I’ll fill you all you want.”

Two days later

“Joel don’t pull out please, please.” Your wonton pleas, echoing throughout the room. Your sweaty forms moulding against one another in the confines of his Jackson bedroom.

“Baby you know I can’t.” His voice is gruff, low. But there’s a desperation behind it.

“Please, stay in me please. Just this once. I need to feel you.” The words spill out your swollen lips, your legs wrapping around his back to pull him in closer. To show him just how bad you needed it. He didn’t say a word, and your words turned into tears. Hot wet droplets falling down the side of your cheeks and pooling in your ears from how you were lead down on the bed.

“Shhh baby don’t cry, don’t cry.” He coos, kissing at where the tears run.

“Joel, please, Joel.” Your hands wrap around his neck, curling through his wavy grey strands and tugging him close. A deep gravely sigh leaves the males chest.

“Okay darlin, just this once alright?”

A smile ripples across your complexion, teeth baring as you nod with glee.

“Okay baby, you ready for it? Ready to fuck all my cum into your needy little pussy? Want me to fuck it so deep for you?”

“Yes! Joel please! Fill me up so good.”

“Fuck arghh!”

With a loud groan, Joel slammed his hips to the hilt, your walls bruising around the depth he’d never reached before. His white hot spend was flooding into your fertile womb, his seed revenging through your tubes to find the egg.

He stilled as he came, before shallowing pumping in and out, making sure his semen was as deep as possible.

He did it for a few minutes before he began to soften, slipping out with ease as a white ocean pooled out of your abused hole and down your legs. Christ, you’ve never seen so much of it.

Joel smeared a thumb through the overstimulated folds, sliding the sticky white substance around as your knees shot together.

“Thank you Joel! Thank you!”

“You’re welcome baby, was it as good as you imagined?”

“Better! So much better!”

“I could feel your hot come filling me up, it felt so good!”

“For me too baby.”

After that, Joel was spellbound. It was slow at first, as few weeks after you first experimented with Joel filling you with his cum he wanted to do it again. Denying himself of orgasm for a few days up until he had you all alone, so he could fuck ropes of his load into you. Joel figured after you didn’t get pregnant the first time, it should be fine to do it on occasion.

But before long, he couldn’t stop his urges.

He couldn’t stop the feeling of your tight silky walls clamping around his thick cock, milking him for all he’s worth. You just feel too good. And after feeling that sweet burning ecstasy there was no going back.

By the time Joel was pounding you twice a week full of him, you’d started to come down with some sort of flu.

You’d decided to go the the commune infirmary, to see if there was anything there that would help you, til Maria begged the last question on your mind.

Is there a chance you could be pregnant?

Fuck

[nothots-headempty]

Hush, My Darling

Paddy × reader

Summary: Paddy knows just the way to keep your sweet mouth under control

Word count: 2k+

Warnings: smut, unprotected p in v, gunplay, condescension, dirty talk, minors dni, 18+ under the cut

Author's note: trust James McAvoy to get me obsessed enough to start writing again. I have one functioning brain cell right now and it's a slut for Patrick Feld. Kinda sorta not proof read.

Your moans could have brought down the entire house, but with Paddy's cock filling you up so good, just like you'd been dreaming of, the thought of someone listening is not even on the back burner.

Your fingers are grasping at anything they can find, his hair, his back, the sheets, in the hope that you dont combust from the sheer obscenity of the words he's been letting loose against your neck.

"So fucking tight, baby. So wet just for me.", he groans halfway through, hands scooping under your body to fuck you from some ungodly angle your mind can't even process.

He hasn't stopped teasing every part of you he can find, not for a second - toying with your breasts, sucking on your collar bone to leave a hickey you won't hide even if you could, hands tangled in your hair, pulling just a little too hard.

You moan out loud again, his cock stretching you from the inside out until all you can feel is the pressure of him on top, him inside, him below, him everywhere.

"Hush, love. Don't want your mother finding her adorable baby girl being a nice little hole for me to fuck, now, do we?" His palm slides along your body to cover your mouth, but your cunt is already wetter at the idea of being caught like this, wrapped in his arms, his cock sliding in, fucking you into oblivion. Your pussy leaks down onto your thigh, leaving a cool, wet patch on your friction chafed skin.

He notices. Of course, he does.

"Someone likes that.", he murmurs with a smirk. With no warning, he pulls out of you then, your indignant whine trapped in your throat as he pulls open his bedside drawer, the shining metal of a revolver throwing off shadows in the lamp-light.

"I know just the way to shut that dirty little mouth of yours." His smile is almost sweet, almost as if you're discussing Church plans for Sunday. And then there's that glint in his eyes that makes your breath hitch.

With one strong hand to push your legs apart, he touches the tip of the revolver to the inside of your knees, a mewl escaping your lips before you can school it.

"Bad girls get punished. You should know that." The revolver traces a line along your thighs, the cool metal contrasting the heat his body had left moments ago. You shiver, straining against his hold on your legs, your eyes falling shut for a second, drowning in the deluge assaulting your senses.

You jolt upright when you feel a nudge against your clit, propping yourself onto your elbows to find him running the gun through your folds, a perverse smile on his lips.

"Watch me, sweetheart. Eyes. On. Me.", he warns, his gaze burning through yours as he pushes the weapon inside you. You bite your lips, embarrassment flooding through you as you feel your cunt clench on the hard metal, your juices running down its sides.

"So fucking greedy for anything that will fill her up." His pupils are blown wide, eyes transfixed on the sight before him, the throb of your pussy, the easy sliding of the gun, in and out, in and out, his hands pumping faster every second.

"Paddy, I'm gonna-", you mumble uselessly. But of course he won't let you. "Not yet, love. We must teach you to be quiet first."

And with that your cunt is left sorely empty again, the man climbing up your body like an animal sizing up his kill for the day. The gun, now wet and even cooler, drags along your stomach, the valley of your breasts, until it rises against your neck.

"Open up, sweetheart.", he smirks, pushing his thumb between your lips to force them apart. You know what's coming, and still your heart speeds up a million times when you feel the metal invading your mouth, the taste of yourself instantly coating your tongue.

You resist the urge to let your eyes fall shut, your gaze held hostage by his, a satisfied smile now playing at his lips. There's a certain pride in his look and you wonder just for a second if it's about you at all or just some twisted victory he feels in this moment.

But that thought, and any other you've had in a while, is washed clean from your mind when his cock enters you again in one swift stroke, seating him deep inside you, your strangled gasp reverberating around the barrel of the gun.

"Now, suck on it.", he commands.

Your tongue rises to the bait before you can even think, licking your fluids off, your cheeks hollowing out to feel the metal intrusion in your mouth.

He groans against your skin, his cock still, pulsing inside you. "Such a good little whore. Would do anything for me, won't you?" You nod as best you can, your mouth more occupied with his order.

He buries his face in your neck, starting to move again, the pace this time leaving no room for talk. The only sounds now were your moans muffled by the threat of destruction on your tongue, his shallow breaths rushing off the walls as he thrust deeper and the slap and sweat of skin on skin as he sped up, erratic, close.

He licks a broad stripe from your shoulder your jaw, waiting there to bite on the skin, almost drawing blood. The tears are on the verge of falling out of your eyes now and when he sees them he just laughs.

"Too much for you, am I, love? Filling you up too good? Hurts, does it?" But even he knows you're too cock-drunk to answer now. Your eyes close this time as you ride that pleasure-pain impasse, feeling the pressure build somewhere deep inside your belly.

His pace staggers as he feels your pussy clench around him, strokes flowing more into a deep grind, his cock throbbing for release.

"Cum for me, baby. Give me what I want.", he rasps. His words set you free, teeth almost biting down too hard on the gun as you let your release wash over you.

You feel his hips falter moments later, that tell tale sign before he spills inside you, slamming into you harder and harder until you've milked him for all hes worth.

Theres silence around you now, a blanket of peace, your bodies spent, your breaths still needing to be caught.

He collapses against you, his smile evident in the curve of his lips against your neck. You welcome the weight of him, legs wrapping around his waist to keep his slowly softening cock still buried inside you for a little while longer.

Back up on his elbows, he takes his time, slowly pulling the revolver out of your mouth, the final inch leaving your lips with a soft *pop*. He presses the barrel against your chin, his forehead resting on yours as he captures your swollen lips in another kiss, fingers massaging your aching jaw.

The smile on his face broadens as he pulls back, the fucked out bliss on your features reflecting in his. He tosses the gun somewhere into the pillows, bracing himself on his elbows on both sides of your head as he peppers kisses on your cheek, your neck, your lips.

"The things you do to me, baby. I'd have to keep you here forever to show you."

He pulls out of you, your cunt now grasping on nothing but disappointment as he pulls you onto his chest. Your arms snake around his neck, kissing his jaw, running your nose through his scruff.

"Keep me as long as you like, Paddy. I'm all yours.", you mumble, innocent to the implications of your words, your face hidden in his neck as you begin to drift off. His fingers soothe your hair, a kiss planted on your forehead before he settles in for the night, the plans in his mind, the filth in his thoughts, all still far from touching your reality.

"You are mine, baby. Always will be."

[puck-bunnies]

vampire love

jack hughes x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw 18+, basically pure word porn, oral sex (m and f receiving), throat fucking, unprotected sex (p in v), praising, dirty talk, not proof read

“i fuck her like a god, that’s without a doubt. that bitch gon give me top, that’s with out a doubt.”

word count: 3k

♪ - vampire love, yung bruh

we sit around the burning logs of the campfire, the sun recently just setting as the waves crash along the shore. the bright sun and foggy clouds washing away to leave the stars scattered along the dark sky.

i sit on jack's lap, my head resting against his chest and his hands comb through my hair. it feels like old times, the summers we would come here as kids and spend endless hours outside together.

jack’s family had previously retreated back to the house, falling asleep as me and jack stay under the beaming stars. my eyes are lost in the fire, head gone into a fuzzy state.

i finally snap out of it once i see the fire die down, the amber light not flooding the area around us. i get up from jack's lap, grabbing another log of wood from the pile and throwing it on top of the dying flames. i repeat the action, grabbing another two logs and perfectly laying them on the pit.

once the logs are placed well for the fire to come back to life, i rest back on jack's lap. i'm stunned once i feel something hard underneath me. "jack." i mumble, feeling his hard cock against my leg.

"i'm sorry baby. you were bending over, and this things got a mind of it's own." he chuckles, not ashamed of the boner making the crotch of his jeans tighten. i let my hand travel from his chest down to graze his abs, his jeans tightening even more with my teasing fingers.

my fingers don't stop, going lower getting a groan from jack's lips. "don't start something you can't finish y/n."

"i can deal with it." i whisper, letting my fingers rub just above the waistband of his jeans. jack's jaw tightens, clenching as i move to his belt. i climb off of his lap, setting one of the yard pillows on the ground before kneeling on it between his legs. my fingers undo his belt, button and zipper.

jack raises his hips, helping me maneuver his jeans and boxers down his legs to pool at his ankles. my one hand rests on his thigh, the other wrapping around the base of jack's thick cock. finger traces up the one prominent vein on his length, squeezing lightly at his almost pulsating hardness, getting a soft groan from his lips.

my thumb rises to his tip, swirling around the pre-cum that soaks his needy tip. jack sucks in a breath as i continue to tease him, he resists the urge to buck his hips up into my hands, begging to feel the friction against him.

i form my hand in a circle, slowly running my hand down him. jack lets out a long harsh breath, "oh shit baby." he groans.

"you like that?" i smirk, swirling my thumb around his tip again, pumping back down his base.

my other hand squeezes his thigh, "oh fuck yes." he submissively whimpers out. a hum passes my lips as i replace my thumb with my tongue, circling around his salty tip. my eyes stay on jack's as his start to roll back in his head, thighs tightening beneath my grasp.

i can feel the heat in my core burning, wetness starting to ruin my panties. all my body wishes for is to be filled by the very cock that my tongue is swirling around. but my mind wants to please jack, to have my throat to his desire.

that's why i don't mind when his hands push through my hair, forming a makeshift ponytail to keep the hair out of my face. slowly pushing down my head to fill my mouth with him.

his tip hits the back of my throat, i fight the urge to gag, wanting to be able to last for jack. my tongue acts like a cushion for his cock, letting it slide against his veiny cock with every push down of my head.

because of the way jack's fucking my throat, i somehow take his whole length inside my mouth. leaving both of my hands to steady myself on his thighs, squeezing his muscles causing him to softly groan. his head slowly rolls back, closing his eyes while taking in the blissful moment.

usually i would prefer for jack to keep his eyes on me whenever we're having sex, wanting to feel the love surging between us with the eye contact. but this feels different, the neediness of his groans and my openness to whatever jack wants, i don't care as much. this feels like pure lust, not a loving moment.

i hallow my cheeks out more, letting jack fill me up more, earning a deep groan to leave his mouth as it is continued to roll back. "oh fuck y/n, just like that." he praises, pushing and pulling my head down faster. he starts to buck his hips with his pace, needing more from me then he can get. "al, almost there." he moans out.

jack's cock twitches in my mouth, quickly followed with ropes of cum spilling down my throat. his grip shortly tightens around my hair before completely falling down, letting me take back control over my head.

i slowly bob my head a few more times, letting jack chase his long awaited high. i let his cock pop out of my mouth, letting the softened cock lay down. jack's cum spills down my throat as i swallow it, letting the warm sticky substance run down me.

it takes a moment for jack to come back to normal, his chest heaving up and down as he gains his breath back from his orgasm. "shit baby, that was.. amazing." jack compliments on the new way i sucked him off. "but i'm not going to let go unrewarded." he smirks.

he stands up, towering over me as he collects his boxers and jeans from his ankles. he looks down at me with almost a degrading manner, his stare makes me feel small, like i could be damaged by a pin dropping. jack's hand cups my jaw, stroking my cheek with his thumb.

"lets get you inside." he coos at me, taking my hand and helping me rise to my feet. he practically drags me in the house, his mouth craving the taste of me that he misses. we slide the glass door open, trying to be quiet and not wake the entire hughes family.

he stops me in the darkened living room right before the couch, a prominent smirk growing on his face. he softly pushes me down on the couch, stunning me as my ass hits the soft cushions. "what're you doing jack?" he doesn't answer me, dropping to his knees between my legs like i once was to him.

jack guides my legs apart, looking up my short tennis skirt to my mess of my panties. a proud smirk resting on his face as he sees what he does to me, how even just having his cock in my mouth can have me soaked. he reaches his fingers out, softy stroking up my wet folds.

"jack, what're you doing? someone could catch us."

he hungrily licks his lips, "i'm willing to take that risk." he hooks his fingers in the waistband of my panties. "do you trust me?"

"always."

that's all it takes for jack to slide my panties down my soft legs, pushing my skirt up to show off my core. i can hear his breath hitch, looking at my gleaming folds as their coated in my wetness.

“such a pretty pussy baby. so wet for me, from only sucking my cock?” he husks at me, pressing a soft teasing kiss to my inner thigh, slowly getting rougher with ever inch closer to where i need him the most.

i bite my lip, nodding to his degrading words. his kisses finally get to my core, pressing a soft kiss to my swollen clit. my lungs suck in a harsh breath, my jaw clenching as jack works slowly.

he finally sticks his tongue out, swirling around my bud of nerves. my hands find their way to his hair, pulling at his roots as i try to steady myself. i can feel a smirk spread on jack’s face, looking up into my eyes as i stare down into his.

jack’s tongue darts out of his mouth, kitty licking my aching clit. “please baby.” i beg out loud for jack. his hands go to my mouth, covering my mouth as i speak too loudly.

“shh, you gotta be quiet if you want his to happen.” he hushes me. i nod against his hand, my eyes softening. i’ll do anything for jack’s touch, beg embarrassingly just for him to get a taste of me. “good girl.”

he keeps his hand against my mouth, he knows me well enough to know that i won’t stay quiet enough without his hand there. his other hand takes one of my ankles, putting my foot up on the couch to let him have a better angle of myself. i mirror his action with my other leg, folding my knees almost up to my chest.

once i’m in the perfect position, jack starts. instead of working on my clit, he goes to my folds. running his tongue down to my needy hole as it was previously clenched around nothing. he’s quick to start slurping on me, fitting my whole slit in his mouth.

i try not to make a peep, jack trusting me enough to remove his hand from my mouth, pressing his thumb to my clit. he rubs circles around my puffy and needy bud, i have to bite down harshly on my bottom lip.

“taste so good baby.” jack hums into pussy.

curses flow out of my mouth softly, trying not to wake his sleeping family through the thin walls. the overstimulation of his tongue plunging deep into me and his thumb rubbing quickly on my slit making it almost impossible to keep myself quiet.

jack’s eyes stay on mine, watching as i struggle to stay quiet on how good he makes me feel. “doing such a good job.” his words make my walls vibrate again.

my thighs start to gravitate towards each other, almost crushing jack’s head between them. his large hand has to guide them back open, his skin harshly gripping me.

it’s not long before i can feel my stomach tightening, the overstimulation making my whole body shutter. my orgasm almost coming over me, “i’m so close jack.” i rush out in a hushed moan.

his tongue is fast, exploring deep inside me as his thumb is quicker then ever. “it’s okay.. let it out.” i can’t take it anymore, relaxing my body as the knot that was unbearably tight loosens all over jack’s tongue.

my head rolls back on the couch, chest heaving as jack helps me chase my high, hushed moans rippling through the air. curses leave my lips mixing with gasps of jack’s name.

once i feel my orgasm completely wash over me, jack works slowly to clean my folds up. getting rid of the remains of my orgasm littering my centre. jack presses a kiss on my inner thigh once again.

“you did such a good job.” he whispers.

he climbs up my body, pressing a kiss to my collarbone then to my jaw. he finishes it by pressing another one onto my lips, the faint taste of each other in our mouths as jack slips his tongue into my mouth.

my chest still tries to catch up to my lungs, trying to regulate my breath as my orgasm still lingers in my veins.

jack backs off of me, standing up above me once again. that’s when i see it, “how are you hard.. again?” i softly giggle, my eyes staying on his strained jeans as they contain his growing size.

“the sound, sight and taste of you was too much.” he whispers. “i need you so bad y/n.”

a smile appears on my face, i fold down my skirt off of my stomach as it was piled up. standing up to level my height with jack, quickly bending down to grab my discarded panties, not wanting to leave any evidence of our actions in the living room. i stuff them into jack’s jean pocket, lacing my hand into his.

“how about this time, we go somewhere we won’t get caught.” my words are soft and suggestive, leading him out of the living room towards his bedroom.

the unmade bedcovers scrunch at the bottom of the mattress, the darkness of the room concealing our bodies as jack seels the door with a lock. before jack can turn back around, i strip my shirt off of me, throwing them on the ground to soon be forgotten.

the soft glow of the moonlight peaks through the window, illuminating me and jack’s bodies as we lower on the mattress. our bodies are quick to entangle each other. i lay on my back, being engulfed by the soft mattress as jack lays between my legs.

our clothes were somehow discarded onto the ground leaving only our naked bodies to be met by the cold air.

our demeanour stays the same, venturing away from our usual love making to a rougher style. i can't complain, the way jack is acting it turning me on more then ever, the cocky and sex drawn jack has the heat in between my legs pooling again.

he's quick to rub his tip up and down my aching folds, teasing my entrance before finally slowly lining up with my hole and pushing in. his hips push in slowly at first, letting me adjust to his almost painful size as he bottoms me out.

stretching a leg over his broad shoulders, he presses down farther somehow, filling me completely. a silent moan falls from my open mouth as my chest doesn’t have enough hair to let a real one out, my lungs grave oxygen but my nerves are too weak to grant it.

jack’s strong hands grip the flesh of my thighs, adding a soft slap to them as he rocks his hips back. when he thrusts in this time it’s harsh, snapping his hips to mine with a soft sound of skin slapping. a quiet, “oh shit.” falls from my lips as my hands bunch up the covers in my palms.

with my words jack’s smile grows, he leans down, pressing a kiss to my lips to silence me. his hips quicken with rhythmic thrusts, his skin hitting against my thighs with each buck of his hips. jack’s tongue slips into my mouth, the still faint taste of each other lingers between our mouths.

my grip on the balls of material between my fingers losen, the pads of my fingertips lingering up jack’s arms to his hair. i gently pull his roots receiving a muffled groan from his throat that feeds into mine with our heated kiss.

with this being the second round of my orgasms, it doesn’t take long for another one to come. my back starts to lift off the mattress, arching into his chest. the reoccurring knot forms in my stomach, the familiar tightening of my joints and heaving of my chest.

“i’m so close baby.”

jack’s hips keep their pace, but with every thrust they become sloppier. my muscles clench around the long cock continuing to pump in me, it’s gets another groan from jack’s plump lips.

“let it out pretty girl. make a mess.” he degrades once again in my ear.

it only takes three or four more snaps of his hips for me to undo underneath his warmth. moans litter out of my mouth, echoing around the room and feeding into jack’s ears. the back of my head grinds into the pillow underneath me, riding my high as i feel his cock twitch in me following with his soft and warm ropes of cum.

only a couple more strokes of his cock and we both run off of our orgasms, my leg falling off of his shoulder. jack softly collapsing on me, his head falling onto our chests as we catch our breaths.

after a few moments, jack props himself up again, swiftly pulling himself out of me. his hands run underneath my back, helping me to sit up on the bed. “let’s get you in the shower.”

jack helps me into the bathroom, letting me on the counter as he starts the shower, letting it warm up before he helps me stand in the shower. before he joins me in the shower, he grabs a washcloth, running it under the warm water to wash me off.

once the insides of me are clean from the remains of my orgasm, he wipes over his length. “you did just a good job baby.” jack presses his lips up to my temple, giving me a soft kiss before letting us underneath the hot streaming water.

my mind is still a mess, i can only mumble to his words. i let him shower me, washing all over my body to remove the sweat from our actions.

[taintedcigs]

GETAWAY CAR — rockstar!e.m. x f!reader

CHAPTER FOUR: TWO NOTES AND A HEART DOWN

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✦ summary: in which eddie takes you for a trip down memory lane and you finally read the note. (wc: 9.4k+)

✦ warnings — ANGSTANGSTANGST, argument </33, yelling, crying, mentions of sa (nothing happens) like its not brought up AT ALL it's insinuated like the tiniest bit, mean!eddie, kinda asshole-ish? pining and slowburn, strong language!, mentions of alc*hol and drg use and a toxic/ab*sive relationship, food!!

✦ pairings — rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader, past billy hargrove x fem!reader, eddie munson x chrissy cunningham

✦ authors note — sorry for the wait but i hope a 9.4k chapter makes up for it omg! also feel free to chat with me in the asks abt this series (and anything tbh) pls!! not proof-read pls ignore mistakes!! ive been struggling with this chapter A LOT. its not at all how i wanted to write it but i was just tired of holding it off :// so hope u guys enjoy and this is like the last fluffy chapter lmao its all angst from here on (well kinda)

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His nose skimmed against yours, a mere breath away from the temptation of your soft lips, everything you’ve been wanting on the tip of your fingers.

But you couldn’t do that. It didn’t matter if he was sorry or if it was casual. Chrissy still existed. And he still kissed her in front of you.

Friends, is what he promised. And this was going to ruin it.  

“Please, look at me,” he pleaded, you could hear the desperation in his voice. Your eyes blinked open slowly, how close he was to you had your eyes widened. 

"I-I don't even know what's wrong with me," he breathed out. "I feel like...I feel like I'm losing my goddamn mind, and I don’t even know what just happened,” he said in a strained voice. 

“I-I just… I look at you, and I’m absolutely terrified.” He gulped. “It terrifies me that—” He stopped himself before he could spew out more. 

It terrifies me how much I would do for you, he wishes to say, but he doesn’t, he can’t. 

“I can’t—we shouldn’t be doing this." He stammered, quick to lean away from you.

“I-I know” You agreed hesitantly, because you knew this was a bad idea. But your stomach burned at the thought that he wanted to not kiss you because of Chrissy. Was he actually going to be with her now? Did he lie about things being casual? 

“Do you…” You took a deep breath, “do you like her?” Your voice was strained, it was barely above a whisper, but Eddie heard you loud and clear. 

Your heart rate picked up quicker than you intended it to, you leaned further away from him, your mouth flooded with a bitter taste. 

“No!” His eyes widened, he answered it so quickly that the idea that he was lying sank further into you. 

“No, I-I don’t know… I just-” He breathed. “We agreed to being friends… We should keep it that way, and I can’t keep doing this,” he stammered. “I need to stop hanging on to the past.” 

“but, fuck. Each time, I try to, you just… prevent it!” He admitted, without realizing the weight his words held, your brows pinched quickly. 

“I prevent it?” You enunciated with an exasperated chuckle. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you mumbled under your breath as your body turned away from him, elbows holding onto the edge of the pool as you swiftly lifted yourself up. 

Eddie just looked at you, baffled. “Do you realize how unbelievable you are?” You spat, looking down on him with your hair still wet and your dress uncomfortably stuck to your body. 

“What are you talking about?” He gave you a puzzled look.

“Nevermind,” you huffed, facing away from him.

Eddie groaned, following you as he exited the pool swiftly. “Why do you even care?” He asked, breathless. Taking another step closer toward you. 

“I don’t,” you lied with a gulp. You were a bad liar. And Eddie knew that. 

“You don’t?” He narrowed his gaze, giving you a second chance to open up, but he knew you were too stubborn.

“I don’t.”

He huffed. “Fine.”

“That…” He paused, “was a mistake.” You could feel that horrible ache in your chest return. Sure it was a bad idea, but a mistake?

Did he really hate you that much?

“What does that mean?” You swallowed hard. Your heart was breaking the more he spoke, you wanted nothing more than to shut him up. 

“It means we-I shouldn’t have done that,” he corrected himself with a tinge of disappointment in his tone. But what exactly did he mean by that? Did he mean that the almost-kiss was a mistake because it could ruin your potential friendship? Or did he mean it in a way that suggested he liked Chrissy?

Those words were enough to have your heart drop into your gut; your whirlwind of thoughts were mocking you, the idea that Eddie had a chance of liking her was eating away at you, and all you could do was stand there and watch it all unravel. 

You parted your lips to speak, but all that could come out was a weak mutter of, “okay.” You turned your back on him quickly, picking up your jacket from the ground. You put it on in a struggle, fighting back the tears that were pricking your eyes. 

“What are you doing?” He asked with a puzzled look, and you refused to look back at him before your feet picked up. He didn’t seem to realize why his answer truly crushed you.

“I-I’m going home.” Your voice was barely audible; there was a lump sitting in your throat, causing your breathing to stammer.

“With what exactly?” He huffed, following behind you. 

“I don’t know,” you muttered with a roll of your eyes. “I’ll figure it out… I always do, don’t I?” You shrugged. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, I won’t let you walk alone like this. You could catch a cold, or something could happen to you, Pinky." His voice was laced with concern, brows furrowed as he hurried to your side.

“I don’t care,” you muttered with an emotionless expression.

“I do!” 

“Do you?”

“Of course I do!” He spat. “Please, don’t do something stupid and reckless. I can take you home,” he mumbled with a huff. There was no fucking way he’d let you walk home alone. 

“And I have a towel in my car,” he added, you slightly huffed. It was chilly, your dress was soaking, and he was right. There was no way you could get home without him. At least until you were willing to freeze off or get hauled by whatever was roaming in the forest. 

You followed him to the car with a simple nod, Eddie still failed to notice why you had gotten so upset, not realizing the implications his words held. 

-

By the time you got into the car, you were shivering, faintly muttering a ‘Thanks’ to Eddie as he wrapped the towel around you, brows creasing with worry, but he didn’t know what to say to you. 

Usually, he wouldn’t have let it go; he would’ve tried to get it out of you and ask you if you were okay, but when you were this upset, it was no use. 

The ride was silent except for the faint sound of Eddie’s mixtape filling the space between the two of you. He had asked if you had anything specific you wanted to listen to, but you shut him off with a faint shake of your head. 

Your heart was aching. Like he had just ripped open your chest and taken it without a care, not noticing how tight he had been squeezing and releasing it. As if he were toying with it. 

And you felt nauseous. You weren’t sure if it was because you didn’t get a chance to eat all day or because of that mocking thought in your head that told you that Eddie wanted Chrissy.  

Once your stomach grumbled, your question was quickly answered, your cheeks heated up as you crossed your arms against your chest in an attempt to shut it up. Eddie gave you a slight chuckle. “Munchies?” He chuckled. “Do you wanna get something to eat?” He asked with a reassuring smile. 

“I just wanna go home,” you grumbled as your gaze refused to meet his. “C’mon,” he muttered with a huff. “Do you even have anything to eat at home?” He asked all-knowingly. You shook your head, you didn’t; your fridge was empty; it was late, so you couldn’t get any groceries; not to mention, your messy kitchen was in no condition to cook. 

“Are burgers still your favorite food?” Your face unintentionally lit up at that; he was definitely thinking about Benny’s, and your mouth-watered just at the idea of their cheeseburgers. 

“Benny’s?” You asked with an involuntary smile on your cheeks, and Eddie swallowed a deep breath. That curve of your goddamn plump lips was driving him crazy. 

“Yeah, do you want to go?” He muttered slowly. “O-okay,” you mumbled. 

First the Wheeler House, then Billy’s stupid camaro, then the pool, this goddamn van, that mixtape, and now Benny's... this whole day had been a nostalgic mind fuck for you. You couldn’t complain, though; no matter how upset his words made you, you were still so pathetically happy to spend some time with him, ecstatic that he didn’t let you go. 

And so was Eddie. That’s why he had been holding his tongue back; he wanted to know why you cared so much about Chrissy. Sure, what she did with Billy was horrible. But it didn’t make sense. There had to be something he didn’t know.  

By the time you guys arrived at Benny's, it was past midnight, so, the place wasn’t packed, of course, but surprisingly, there were still a lot of tables besides the two of you. Eddie let out an ‘Aha!’ sound once his eyes caught the booth that was nestled in the corner. 

The same one the two of you always shared. The white light loomed over its padded, dark maroon seat, and you slid onto it with a huff. Your senses were immediately greeted by the mouthwatering aroma of toasted buns. The air was infused with a disgusting smell of frying oil, but all of it smelled irresistible to your growling stomach. 

Once the two of you got situated, Benny was quick to rush to your side. “Welcome to Benny’s, what can I get you—” 

"Oh my god!" Benny's eyes widened, his face breaking into a wide grin. "Didn't expect to see you! Jesus, how long has it been?" He chuckled, his memory working overtime.

A smile adorned your face, Benny had always been nice to you and to Eddie, giving you one too many free meals, always telling you that it was not an issue despite your protests, knowing of your absentee parents, just like the rest of the town did. 

“Very long,” you added with a chuckle, “missed your cheeseburgers.” You pouted. 

"Yeah?" Benny's excitement was palpable. "Mmhmm, nowhere in New York does it as good as Benny's," you hummed sweetly.

"Now, you're just butterin' me up!" Benny dismissed with a chuckle, eliciting a warm smile from you.

"But, New York, huh?" Benny inquired, raising an intrigued brow. "I've seen this one around, a lot, even last week." His finger pointed toward Eddie, prompting your brows to furrow.

Last week? 

“So that's why you weren’t with him.” He added, realization dawning on his face. Eddie was quick to shoot a painful gaze toward you, one that almost said, ‘no, she wasn’t with me because she left me’, You didn’t know how it was possible to share a language just through your shared gaze, but it had you physically gulping. 

“Uh-uh, yeah,” you mumbled, your gaze avoiding Eddie’s. 

“I gotta say though…” He leaned down, almost like he was telling the two of you a secret, “It’s really nice seeing the two of you together, again.” Benny said with a sly smirk.

“‘Bout damn time y’all got together,” He teased further. 

Your eyes widened in unison, both sets of cheeks warming before you spoke up. 

“Oh, no—” You were quick to dismiss with your hands.

“We’re not—” Eddie joined in your protests.

“So, what can I get for you, lovebirds?” He hummed casually, ignoring both of your protests. Your eyes locked before both of you shyly avoided each other’s gaze. “The usual?” 

“Uh-uh, yeah," Eddie grumbled, suddenly more interested in the wooden table. 

When Benny turned toward you, “same for her, but with extra pickles.” Eddie said almost automatically, your brows pinched together and Eddie mentally cursed himself, “I-I mean… if that’s still your order…” His words smushed together, cheeks quick to heat crimson red. 

“It-it is," you mumbled. 

“Alright, comin’ right up,” he threw a wink at the two of you, clueless of the awkwardness apparent in the air. 

It was stupid, all this back and forth all day. You weren’t kids anymore; you should have been able to just be friends and hang out, not fight. Yet, somehow, it had spiraled into a seemingly impossible situation.

Talking it out wasn’t going to do anything. If the two of you wanted any chance to salvage whatever your relationship was, you needed to talk about the bigger picture; everything needed to be spilled out. But neither of you wanted to do that. 

Unspoken feelings were lingering, and none of you knew when they would boil over. Both of you desperately wanted to cling to the promise of being friends and make the most of it. 

There were a lot of things you could say to him; you could choose to talk about Chrissy, you could choose to talk about L.A.; hell, you could choose to talk about his nerdy game, but your curiosity got the best of you, and before you could help it, the words spilled out of your mouth. “What were you doing here last week?” 

Eddie was almost taken aback by your question, not expecting you to be curious about him again after icing him out for so long. “I like coming here,” he shrugged. “Whenever I’m in Hawkins, I drop by, you know, to write some stuff.”

“Here?” Your face scrunched, finding it hard to believe that a greasy diner could ever be inspiring. 

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “most of our second album was produced in this bad boy.” 

"Are you serious?” Your brows raised, “and the rest of the band is just okay following you here?" You narrowed your gaze playfully, your hands finding a resting place on the worn wooden table.

Eddie’s mouth twitched with a smile. “Yeah, actually, they’ve gotten pretty used to it,” he confessed, “you-uh… I don’t know if you ever got to listen to the second one-”

"I did," you interrupted, voice resolute.

“Y-you did?”

“Of course.”

Eddie hesitated before asking, "What did you think of it?"

“Great record, are you kidding me? It had such a unique sound… You know, like, a timeless quality that makes it stand out?” You said excitedly, and he nodded with a raised brow, “that much?” He asked hesitantly.

“I’m not kidding, Eddie. You know how I don’t pull punches with music; if it wasn’t good, I’d tell you in a heartbeat.”

"Which one's your favorite?" Eddie asked, his curiosity piqued.

You pondered for a second before answering, "oh, definitely Aurora!"

Eddie's shaggy bangs fell onto his forehead as he leaned closer, listening intently. "I mean, 'I just kinda died for you, you just kinda stared at me' is genius," you said, your voice filled with admiration. You didn't dare look him in the eyes.

"And really, really sad," you continued, a hint of melancholy in your tone. "The idea that you could give the whole world to someone, to the point where you describe it as dying, and they don’t even see it... it sounds awfully painful." You gulped, your eyes fixed on the worn wooden table. You weren’t stupid; you knew why it was named Aurora; you knew what the lyrics were alluding to.

His car. The same car that the two of you drove around in. The same car drove the two of you out of Hawkins. 

You knew he liked you way before he let you on, and you wish you knew. 

Maybe if you weren’t dating that douchebag, maybe if Eddie said something sooner, maybe if everything that happened when the two of you left didn’t happen… Maybe just maybe, the two of you’d be together now. 

Maybe if the timing was just right, it wouldn’t be like this; he wouldn’t have whatever he had with Chrissy. You wouldn’t have been in New York. 

But what were you supposed to say? What could you say that would change all of this? Even if you told him about what Chrissy did, even if you explained why you had to leave him in L.A., there was no use. The truth couldn't turn back time. You two had ventured down different paths, and it was painfully evident.

He wasn’t the Eddie you knew, and you weren’t the Pinky he knew; it was too fucking late. 

Eddie's mouth hung open in surprise; he hadn't expected you to delve into the song's meaning like this. Aurora was one of the heaviest songs he had ever written, and he held a special attachment to it. The label and the rest of the band had embraced it, which was surprising since they usually rejected his heartbreak songs, wanting more of that unbridled rage. 

He didn’t answer you; there was a weird tension between the two of you again, so you diffused it with, “but kinda lame that you decided to name a song after your car,” while eyeing Eddie to gauge his reaction.

Eddie chuckled. “Oh, bite me,” he teased, "but yeah, that one was also written here, in that same spot you were sitting.”

“Shut up!” You said, hand playfully reaching out to nudge him. 

"And to your question... I can't tell you why I was here last week," Eddie confessed, his voice carrying a hint of mystery.

Your stomach twisted at that, and you didn't know how many more punch-in-the-gut revelations you could handle today. "Why- uhh- why not?" You asked hesitantly, your words stuttering over simple syllables.

"Because then I'd be spoiling the note, dummy," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

A deep breath of relief escaped your stomach, and you chuckled. God, he was a douche. "Wait... so does that mean... I have a song in my pocket?"

"Not exactly."

"I'm the first one to see it, huh?" You asked excitedly, hand teasingly dipping into your pocket.

"You and the rest of the band," Eddie huffed, offering a sheepish grin.

You gave him a quick glare. “You know I could leak this to the press and make millions, right? No more dealing with rude customers, and no more nine to five hours stuck in a record shop?”

He narrowed his gaze. "You can't get shit for that," he mockingly retorted.

"What?" You frowned.

"Yeah, it's basically like the first chorus and some gibberish notes, it's worthless," Eddie explained.

You pouted. "Aww, damn it."

"I'm kidding, I'm excited to read it,” you reassured with a wink, “you know… Maybe I could give you some notes on it? Review it?" You suggested.

“Didn’t know you were a musician.”

“Rude!” You huffed, “I may not be a musician, rockstar. But I sell records for a living. I can promise you, I listened to many more records than you did this year.” You said with a playful smirk.

"How's that like?" Eddie asked curiously, his deep brown eyes resembling longing and curiosity.

You leaned back against the cushioned booth, letting out a wistful sigh. "Working at a record store? A rollercoaster,” you chuckled, “lame in some ways, but also incredibly fascinating. New York's a whole different world compared to Hawkins."

Eddie couldn't help but study your face as you spoke. He noticed the faint traces of insecurity in the way you held yourself—an air of loneliness that came with moving away from everyone you knew and your family leaving you.

"But also, it took me a while to get used to it," you continued. "Nancy and Jonathan used to visit me a lot; they've really helped me adjust.”

“And you know, of course, Robin and Steve, too,” you murmured.

Eddie’s brows shot up at that. So everyone but him. 

It was a sting he couldn't quite shake, burning at his skin, that you decided to abandon him but were fine with everyone else, including Steve. 

Your absence in his life had left a void he couldn't fill, ever.

Yet, here you were, replacing him like it was nothing. 

Eddie knew he had no right to be jealous; you two were just friends, right? But it ate away at him; that feeling seeped through him, even though you were never his to begin with.

His face burned, and his jaw clenched involuntarily. He could almost feel the taste of bitter jealousy in his mouth, considering how it was overtaking his senses. “Steve?” He questioned; gaze seeping through you, an unbrittled rage ready to tip at any moment. 

You didn’t seem to notice it, though. For someone who was usually very perceptive, it flew right by you—that slight tick in his jaw, the way his fists curled, the storm raging beneath the surface.

“Yeah,” you murmured, his head turned away from you, gaze fixed on anything but your face. The other corners of the burger place was suddenly very interesting to him as he grappled with his own emotions.

“It’s pretty crowded in here, right?” you remarked, trying to draw Eddie into the conversation and gauge his mood.

“Uh-huh,” Eddie replied, his gaze remained distant, thoughts elsewhere.

Concern etched across your face as you pressed further, “Uh, are you okay?” Something seemed to be bothering Eddie, and you couldn't pin-point what it was.

“‘M fine,” he dismissed with a wave of his hands. 

He had to distract you and do something else because he was being super fucking weird, and you weren’t dumb; you could read him like a book. 

He didn’t want that awkwardness or tension to reappear; he wanted to talk to you freely, he couldn’t let his insecurities ruin this for him. 

Eddie’s attention turned back to you,  “is that what you want to do with your life?” his brows raised, “The record store, I mean.” He didn’t want to sound rude, he just wanted to know more.

“I don’t know… I never had much time to think about it.” You gave him a small smile, shaking your head gently, “also, I can’t really afford to think about it anyway.”

“But what do you want to do?” He probed.

“Anything concerning art… I mean I’d love to be a tattoo artist, too. That’s the likely path I’m going down, dunno if the salary is good enough, though.” You shrugged, “but you know what I’d love to be?” Eddie leaned closer, his eagerness clear. 

“What?” He asked, genuinely intrigued.

“Someone came in like a month ago, this bearded guy with lots of tattoos… We had a new album coming to our store that day, and he wanted to see them,” you mumbled with a warm smile, eyes glistening with a dreamy glow. “Then he told me about how he was a tattoo artist, but helped make some of the cover art for that album, and then something just like clicked in me.”

“I used to draw with the hope that maybe it could connect with someone, you know, like it did with me… I spent half of my childhood drawing and listening to music as an outlet. Whenever my parents left, whenever they were absent in my life despite ‘being there’, or whenever they had a screaming match, plates thrown at each other, the first thing I did was sketch, anything, on the notebook.” You mumbled, “or I listened to a record, and I let it consume me, in the hopes that it would drive me away from reality, diffuse the pain, even for a split second, and it worked,” you said with a simple smile. 

Eddie hung on to your every word, his gaze never wavering, admiring that creative spirit shining in you. “Art and music shift the world in the best way possible, and maybe it is dramatic but it also saves lives in a way, you know, by helping you get through something, or making you forget. And that’s my biggest wish… to have my art be important to someone, to make them feel like they’re not alone, in any way possible. So when I saw how that guy combined music and art like that, I thought, this is fucking perfect, this is what I need to do.” 

Eddie’s brows pinched together, “why haven’t you done it?” he asked, his voice a soothing lilt that could melt any doubts away. He could listen to you talk about your passions for hours, the way your eyes glistened with hope, that little quirk of your brow did when you found something interesting, it was heavenly to him. 

“C’mon Eds, be realistic,” you murmured sadly. “Half the people that work for a good record company or with a good band have fancy art degrees, they have connections, they have the money, the time to do it. No one’s going to want a nobody who doesn’t even have a college degree from a small town.” Your lips pressed into a thin line.

“Bullshit,” he spat quickly, dismissing the way you so quickly diminished yourself, “I was the trailer trash of Hawkins, and look what happened,” he encouraged in a harsh but also a warm manner, leaning closer. 

“Yeah, but you’re also a guy, Eddie.” Your voice wavered as you pointed out, “t-they have different expectations for women who don’t have those connections, or don’t come from like insanely rich parents… If you know what I mean,” you said with disgusted frowning upon your face, chill running down your spine. 

Eddie immediately picked it up, his face growing to one of concern, “W-wait-” his voice quivered, the color drained from his face quickly, you immediately knew what he was implying and shook your head, “no, no, not me! But I heard lots of stories in New York, it’s just disgusting,” your face scrunched. 

“That’s awful,” Eddie’s jaw clenched in anger, he knew there were a lot of scumbags in the industry, and it pissed him off that he could do nothing about it. He already felt guilty enough that he didn’t realize what a narcissistic asshole Billy really was, he wanted to help any way he could. 

And then, like a sudden light bulb went off in his head, an idea illuminated his mind. “Have I ever told you that our record company is in need of a new art director?” He pouted teasingly. 

Your eyebrows shot up as a giggle escaped your lips. "You're funny," you said, playfully skeptical.

Eddie, ever earnest, replied, "I'm serious."

“I-I can't do that," you said shyly, your fingers toying with the hem of your dress.

Eddie leaned in, and retorted with a, “and why not?"

“It-it feels wrong, and you don’t even know if I’d be good-“ you hesitated, not fully convinced if this was a good idea.

“Bullshit,” Eddie countered firmly, a small smile gracing his lips. “I know how great your art is, and I know how much you care about music, the way you describe it is exactly the reason why I love it so much.” Eddie always took you seriously and encouraged you about your dreams, no matter how unrealistic it was. 

“You know what you said earlier about how you wanted your art to matter to someone?” You nodded, eyes glistening with hope. 

“Your art is important to me, Pinky. The ones you sketched in your notebooks, is what helped me write some of my lyrics. The drawings you made when you were bored in class, the ones I have hung up on my wall still at the trailer… they mean so much to me,” he said in a hushed voice, he dragged his arm on the table, quick to point to the tattoo on his forearm. “This tattoo, is what helped with Corroded Coffin’s symbol bats, you do realize that, right?”

Skeptical, you scoffed, "you guys always had bats as your thing."

 “True,” he agreed, “but your design helped bring it to life.” He shrugged, “and you know the band better than anyone, maybe you could help us with our next album cover, too. I don’t think I could find someone more perfect for the job.” Eddie shrugged and smiled warmly.

“But-”

Your protests were gently silenced by Eddie, who insisted with a soft determination, “No but’s, just say yes, please.” His voice was sweet, sickingly sweet, you couldn’t say no even if you wanted to, and this was the perfect opportunity. 

“I mean I’ll just have a talk with them, show them some of your stuff, so, no promises. But I can be very, very persuasive,” he teased, a wink thrown your way.

You stammered, the excitement bubbling within you. "Y-you'd do that for me?” He nodded surely, “even after everything that happened?" Your tone was muffled, laced with insecurity.

"Anything for you," Eddie reassured as he leaned closer, that familiar, small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

With your heart aflutter, you finally agreed, excitement breaking through the barriers of your insecurities. "If—if you really are okay with it, I-I'd love to."

“Of course,” he affirmed. 

“Alright!” Benny chimed in, interrupting the two of you. “Two cheeseburgers with a side of fries, and two milkshakes.” He hummed, settling the food in front of both sets of hungry eyes.

“Enjoy, lovebirds!” He said with a smirk, sauntering away to the kitchen. 

“Thank you!” Both of you exclaimed with happiness as you dug into the food.

As you munched on the crispy fries, you admired the other tables, each one occupied by a slice of life that you couldn't help but find intriguing.

One table was for a family of four. All you could hear was the distressed children, their whining echoed through the restaurant. The parents looked drained, faces etched with exhaustion as they juggled plates of half-eaten food, desperately trying to calm down and distract their kids.

Another table was occupied by a couple who was in a heated argument. The man wore a scowl, voice raised in anger, while the woman looked like she was about to cry, her eyes pleading for understanding.

But the last table was the one that you couldn’t tear your eyes away from, it brought a smile to your face. “Oh my god, look,” you said in a hushed voice, gaze pointing toward the booth that was nested in the far right corner.

Eddie was already face-first into his food, “later, ’m eating.” He grumbled. You poked your tongue out at him playfully. “Jesus… Forgot how grumpy you get when you are hungry,” you hummed, flinging a fry in his direction, causing him to pause mid-bite and chuckle.

“Oh, you don't wanna play that game with me, sweetheart,” he teased, dangling a fry in front of your face.

You grinned, your eyes dancing with excitement. “Just one look, and I’ll be out of your curly unbrushed hair, Munson,” you joked with a giggle.

His eyes rolled quickly, “you won’t stop until you get what you want, will you?” He asked with an annoyed tilt of his head.

You shook your head with a giggle. “Fine,” he huffed jokingly, dipping the fry in his hand into the vanilla milkshake, making an exaggerated sound of satisfaction as he devoured it.

“Gross.” You commented with mock disgust, and he rolled his eyes in response.

“Just tell me which table.” Eddie leaned in, his curiosity piqued as your gaze moved toward the couple at the adjacent booth. The girl was wearing a plaid mini skirt, expertly paired with a statement crop-top covered by an oversized leather jacket wrapped around her shoulders, likely borrowed from the curly-haired brunette sitting on the opposite side of the booth.

Her head was thrown back, and laughter danced in her eyes as she hung on to every word of the story he was telling. The curly haired brunette guy had a graphic band-tee and a guitar pick adorning his neck. Mascara smudged and eyes all red; you knew they probably had a long night. 

It reminded him of something, or rather, someone. 

He looked at you with his brows scrunched up, and you replied to him with a giggle. Both of you were thinking the same thing. 

“That’s fuckin’ weird.” Eddie mumbled with a mouthful of his juicy cheeseburger. “Are those our… doppelgangers?” 

“Right?” You almost mirrored him, taking a bite from your cheeseburger as you leaned further on your elbows. “What do you think their story is?”

“Uhhh-” Eddie grumbled, “us from five years ago?” His mouth partially obscured by the burger as he chewed thoughtfully, a furrow in his brow. 

“Such a detailed story!” You mocked. He couldn't help but notice how the dim diner lighting accentuated your features—plump lips looking so soft from the way you frustratingly groaned—which brought an unintentional smile to his face.

You were so breathtakingly pretty; even when you were munching on a burger, he was absolutely whipped.

Eddie shrugged, that shit-eating grin still on his face. He looked you dead in the eye before he took another big bite, stuffing more fries into his mouth. 

“Fine, I’ll give them a story,” you narrowed your gaze, “and you can keep eating your gross milkshake dipped fries,” you mocked, straightening up your back as you leaned closer, licking your lips before you spoke.

“So the girl… she’s pretty, like really, really pretty.” You said with a sly grin, your gaze now focused on the couple in question; if he wasn’t going to participate, then you could just drag this further. 

“And there’s the guy." You gestured toward the other booth, gaze narrowing as you turned back to Eddie. “He’s just... there, I guess, kind of looks like a douche,” you mocked, mouth scrunching as you looked at Eddie all-knowingly, head tilted to the side.

Eddie scoffed, responding with a lighthearted yet passionate defense of himself. “He looks like a total stud,” he grumbled in between bites with a smirk, “and that band-tee? He’s so fuckin’ cool.”

“Oh, yeah?” You challenged, “I think he’s a total nerd, bet he’s telling his dorky D&D stories to his best friend.” 

He stuck his tongue out, a carefree grin on his face, “Hey! You said you loved my campaigns!” He exclaimed and playfully tossed a soggy fry at you. 

You gasped dramatically, reaching for another fry to retaliate before Eddie’s unreadable expression had you frozen. “Shit, I totally forgot, what time is it?”

“Oh, you’re not getting away with that, Munson, we’re in a full fledged food war now,” you teased, holding a fry aloft, your gaze narrowing in mock seriousness.

“No, no, I’m serious.” Eddie insisted, causing you to huff in response. You turned your back to try to read the old-fashioned clock that stood on the wall. 

“Uh… 1.15, why?” you replied, your brows furrowed in confusion, trying to understand him.

“Shit! Shit, shit!” He cursed, getting up quickly while he started gathering his things.

“What?” You asked with a puzzled look.

“Wayne!” He exclaimed making you furrow your brows.

“What about Wayne?” 

“I promised to pick him up after his shift,” he explained with a sigh. “You know, since I kinda have the car.”

"Well, when did it end?” you inquired, still calm as you took another bite from your burger.

He eyed you with urgency. “15 minutes ago,” grumbling, he shoved whatever was left of his food into his mouth. 

“So, I’m going to see Wayne?” You asked with a smile. 

“If we don’t hurry up, you’re going to see me dead,” he exclaimed dramatically, making you roll your eyes. 

“You need to inhale all of that, now!” He screeched, and you looked up at him with a pout. 

“Now!” He snapped, hands clapping in front of your face. 

“Okay, okay, jesus!” You groaned, taking a deep breath, before you shoved a generous handful of fries in your mouth. 

-

When Eddie led you to the car, all you could think about was how Wayne would react—would he be mad at you? Would he be disappointed? 

Goosebumps appeared when a chill ran down your spine, you didn’t know if you could handle it. Wayne had been a staple in your life up until you left, he fed you, he listened to you when you needed it, he gave you a place to sleep, and he always reassured you that you were always welcome in their home.

And you didn’t even bother to say goodbye to him. Not that you didn’t want to; it’s because you couldn’t. When you and Eddie left, it was in a hurry. You had no time to tell anyone, not even Eddie told Wayne until you two were half-way there to California. 

But it still didn’t stop your guilt, it still didn’t help the way your stomach twisted at the mention of his name. 

Your feet picked up quickly as the thoughts filled your head, only stopping when Eddie called out to you. “I have to tell you somethin’” Eddie mumbled, eyes squeezing shut. 

A huff of air was quick to escape your lips, you knew it was too perfect to end like this, you knew he was going to ruin it. 

“She-uh… she’s coming to brunch tomorrow.”

You froze in place, almost everything fit like a puzzle in your mind now, and you didn’t know which emotion to feel first. 

Anger, jealousy, or sadness. 

And all three of them hit you at the same time. Because it made sense now, it was clear. He liked Chrissy. He wanted Chrissy. 

He wanted to move on with her. 

He had your heart in his hands, but this time he wasn’t toying with it; he was stomping on it, over and over again, not stopping until he was sure it was beyond salvageable. 

Hand almost frozen in the place you opened the car door without a word, settling into the passenger seat like nothing had happened. 

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath before he opened his side of the door, getting inside swiftly just to turn to you, “are you not gonna say anything?” he asked, voice carrying a desperate tone.

Your gaze remained fixed outside the window, your cheek pressed against the cool glass. “We’re going to be late,” you replied with a cold, unfeeling tone. Silence filled the car, mirroring the gaping void that now existed between you two.

Thankfully, Aurora didn’t give him any trouble when he started the ignition with a key turn, and the engine roared to life. You didn’t want to speak; you didn’t want to say anything to him. You wanted to save all of your emotions, contain them in the depths of your mind, and cry yourself to sleep. You didn’t want him to know how much this crushed you. 

But you couldn’t just do that; too disappointed to let it slide, the words escaped your mouth like a dam breaking, “I can’t fucking believe you.” 

“Just, listen, I-I didn’t even invite her-” Eddie tried to explain, but you weren't listening, you didn’t care, you were letting it all out. 

“How would you fucking feel if I kissed… Jason in front of you?” Eddie opened his mouth to answer, but you continued, “how would you feel if I invited him to brunch tomorrow?

Once you took a deep breath to gather your thoughts, he scoffed. “That’s not the same thing, Pinky. Carver made my life a living hell, he was a miserable bully.”

You should tell him, you should tell him what exactly Chrissy did to you.

You should tell him the whole story of that night at Steve’s party. 

The part he didn’t know. 

But you don’t. 

Because you’re too busy to worry about whether he actually wants to be with her or not, your mind felt full, anxieties and worries dancing around in it. 

“And Chrissy kissed Billy!” Your mouth dried up when that name left your mouth, you could feel that dreadful feeling consuming your chest. 

That night was still a blur to you—the way you caught them, the things Chrissy said to you, the way Billy swore that she initiated the kiss. 

Eddie shook his head. “She said it was a misunderstanding.”

You rubbed your fingertips on your forehead in disbelief. “And you believe her over me?” you asked, tone carrying a tinge of hurt and betrayal. The question hung heavy between the two of you.

“No, no!” He yelled out. “Jesus fucking Christ, stop putting words in my mouth, Pinky!” Eddie groaned in frustration, his hands gripping the steering wheel. “She explained it was a misunderstanding, and she does want to tell you that, too… maybe you could talk to her—”

You let out an exasperated chuckle, not interested in entertaining the idea. “no fucking way.” 

“If you want to be with her, then just fucking say that, Munson, don’t do all this fuckin’ bullshit,” you added, crossing your arms against your chest. 

“I don’t want- oh, you’re unbelievable!” He snapped, head bumping against the headrest of his van. 

“You make it fucking impossible to start over!”

“Wh-what does that even mean?” You retorted back.

“J-just when I’m about to start over, just when I-I’m going to…” He rolled his tongue inside of his cheek in rage as he paused to better explain himself. 

“I find a picture of you in my wallet that you put… or, or Nancy and Jonathan tell me that you invited them over…” You were on the brink of retorting when he continued, “or, or, you- you just barge back into town like you never left; talk to me like nothing fuckin’ happened.”

You didn’t dare to open your mouth; everything he said made you feel guilty. But everything he felt, you felt, too. Each time you felt like moving on, each time you wanted to try to be with someone, you physically couldn’t. 

Maybe it was selfish that you liked hearing him feel the same way too. That’s why the way he was being so vague about whatever he had with Chrissy was like a stab to your heart, in the most non-dramatic way possible. 

“You know… I used to think you were the best thing that ever happened to me… I used to think that you w-would always be in my life. That you’d be the one fuckin’ person who’d never leave me.” Eddie's voice trembled, and your throat was quick to tighten, lump forming as his words began to sink in. It felt like the car grew darker the more he spoke, your world crumbling down with it. 

“I was wrong about all of that... all you fuckin’ did was ruin it… You ruined my life.”

The faint strains of heavy metal playing on the car's stereo seemed distant, before you spoke up, wobbly lips slurring your words. “I… I r-ruined your life?” You slumped back on your seat with his words slicing through you like a knife, gnawing at your insecurities.

“Y-you really think that?” Words barely escaped your lips, voice quivering. 

He opened his plushy lips to speak, but he couldn’t answer; words died down in his throat, his gaze fixated on the road, lips pressed into a tight line. 

That in itself was an answer, you knew it, and he knew it. You felt exposed to him, like he knew your insecurities but still did nothing to hide them. 

You couldn't help but feel a hot prickle behind your eyes, the unshed tears were getting harder to hold back. You bit back on your wobbly lip, in an attempt to conceal the pent-up emotions that were begging to be let out. “This… this whole thing was a mistake,” you murmured, voice hushed and heavy with regret. The words felt like stones in your mouth, bitter and unpalatable. 

“We-we were caught up in ourselves, ther-there’s no fuckin’ way we could ever be friends,” you continued, driving home the painful truth, just so you could hurt him like he hurt you, just so you didn’t want him to know how pathetically you still wanted to be with him in any way possible. 

“I agree,” he grumbled, eyes still on the road. Tears streamed down your cheeks, tracing glistening paths along your cheeks, you didn’t even attempt to wipe them. Sniffles punctuated the air, body shuddering with an attempt to suppress your sobs, but then again, they were drowned out by the heavy metal music that echoed in the car. 

Eddie’s gaze fell on you every few seconds; but you didn’t seem to notice. And the guilt ate away at him, too, his brows furrowed in agony. He knew that wasn’t what he meant to say. He didn’t mean it in that way, you didn’t ruin his life; you never could—well, not until you left him. 

His knuckles tightened on the steering wheel; this wasn’t how everything was supposed to happen. He didn’t even invite Chrissy; she asked to come, and of course Eddie said yes, what else could he do? So he just wanted to give you a heads up. Just so things wouldn’t get bad between the two of you again, but he managed to screw it up.

Grumbles and some curses were all the two of you could hear when Eddie pulled up to Wayne’s workplace. With a huff of breath, your car door hung open. “I’ve been waiting for thirty minutes, rockstar; you better have some good fuckin’ excuse-” Wayne’s eyes widened the second his gaze met your sad figure.

“Jesus H. Christ!” Wayne exclaimed as if seeing a ghost. “Am I seein' that right? Is that who I think it is?” Despite the heartache gnawing at your insides, you managed a smile.

"Hi, Wayne," you mumbled shyly. Wayne, however, wasn't having it. "Oh, you're not gettin' off with a simple 'hey,' come over here, kid!" He said excitedly, pulling you into a bear-hug. The embrace was tight enough to make you giggle and sniffle, an unfamiliar smile on your lips.

“Where the hell have ya been?” Wayne inquired once he let you go. 

You tried to get up, offering him the front seat, he shook his head, hands holding you down by your shoulders, not wanting to interrupt the two of you.

You told him about everything—New York, your job, how you got here. Everything. 

And all Eddie did was drive; he didn’t look at you or even Wayne for all that mattered—not a single glance. And of course, this didn’t go unnoticed by Wayne. 

“Alright, kids, you two are bein' weird…” Wayne grumbled, glancing at Eddie. “Tell me what the hell happened. Some kind of lover's quarrel?” Eddie scoffed, and you couldn't help but snap your head in his direction.

"Somethin' funny, boy?" Wayne added, narrowing his gaze at his niece. Eddie sighed but still avoided both of your gazes.

“No, no, uhh- nothing happened.” He murmured.

Your gaze narrowed, and you couldn’t help the anger inside of you. “That’s funny, that is not how I remember it.” 

Wayne’s brows furrowed before he leaned closer to the front seat. “What happened, P? You know you can always tell me anythin’” he murmured with a reassuring tone. 

Eddie scoffed, rolling his eyes, but you ignored him, “he is with Chrissy,” you said, scrunching your face as you turned to gauge Wayne's reaction.

Wayne's brows tilted together, his eyes narrowing as he tried to remember that name. “You remember her? Strawberry blonde hair and-”

“The blondie that made you cry?” you nodded, “with that Hargrove kid?” 

“See, even Wayne remembers,” you grumbled, slightly elbowing Eddie to get a reaction out of him, only earning an offended huff.  

“I never liked him, you know,” Wayne continued, large hands gesturing vaguely to emphasize his point, “always thought you were way too good for him. A guy like him has no business with my Pinky.” You leaned further into the headrest, fingers fiddling with your jacket as you gave Wayne a weak smile. 

“Should’ve listened to you,” you hummed. 

“So Eddie is with her?” Wayne mumbled, face souring. 

“Boy, have you lost your damn mind?” Wayne was quick to chide Eddie, who was drumming his fingers on the steering wheel in an attempt to not snap at either of you. 

But it wasn’t working. 

"I told you I'm not with her!" he hissed, voice dripping with irritation. He shot a glare at Wayne through the rearview mirror, but his words were directed at you. 

“How would you explain kissing her and inviting her to our friend's brunch!” You snapped in Eddie’s direction. 

“Eddie, tell me you did not do that!”

“It-it’s not like that, Wayne.”

“Oh, really? What is it like?” You gruffly asked, curiosity and hurt evident in your tone.

“Eddie…” Wayne warned him shushingly with a disappointed look, he could see how much you were hurting, and he knew Eddie was a bit oblivious.

“What?” he groaned.

“Don’t worry, Wayne, he just enjoys playing with my feelings,” you replied with a scoff, fingers tracing the pattern on the car’s leather seats, a relief to your pent-up emotions.

“Oh, you’re one to fuckin’ talk,” Eddie muttered under his breath with an out of place chuckle, his anger overflowing after holding it back for so long. “Newsflash, princess. You weren’t the one to wake up all alone in L.A. with one fucking note, I was!” He yelled, words punctuated by the heavy breath he took between each sentence. 

“You should be grateful you have two notes in that pocket of yours because I barely got one!” 

“Will you stop bringing that up?” You plead, lip wobbling as you bit on it harshly to stop your emotions from spilling. 

“‘I can’t do this, sorry.’” He recited your words, and you refused to look at him. “Five letters, Pinky. Not even six. Five. You left me with that—no goodbyes, no nothin’, just a sticky fuckin’ note attached to the fridge.” His head snapped toward you.

A loud chuckle left your mouth, you turned to him with rage, and Wayne knew he had to step in or it was going to get ugly, even uglier than, whatever this was. “This isn’t even about that-”

“Alright, alright!” He interrupted, hands waving in the space between the two of you. 

“Simmer down, both of you! I know the two of you have a lot of unresolved shit… but don’t burn this bridge,” he warned, “not again.” Wayne’s words were quick to disperse the emotional fog that had surrounded the car. 

“The thing, whatever the hell it is, that y’all have… people spend their whole fuckin’ life lookin’ for it… Don’t be dumb.” That was enough to have the two of you shut up. 

“Talk it out.” He said, firm but fair. “I know you’ve both been hurt, so, be honest with each other, and apologize,” he continued, urging both of you to confront each other.

“Okay?” He asked, head hanging in the space between the two of you. 

“Okay,” both of you mumbled in unison, backs turned toward each other.

‘Too late’ was all you could think; that bridge was already burned. There was no way the two of you could ever go back now, right?

A sigh of relief escaped your lips when Eddie finally pulled up to your house, you didn’t waste any time saying goodbye to Eddie before turning to Wayne and giving him a hug. 

“See you around?” You asked with a hopeful smile.

“You better!” Wayne warned playfully, evoking a giggle from you. “You gotta drop by sometime, promise?” He asked with a sly grin, he knew exactly what he was doing. 

You didn’t want to see Eddie anymore than you had to now, but if Wayne asked you to do something, you’d do it in a heartbeat. 

You looked back at Eddie, your gazes connecting for a second before both of you turned away. “Uh-huh, promise,” you mumbled before exiting quickly. 

“What the hell are you doin’, kid?” Wayne exclaimed the moment you left, causing Eddie to look at him with a puzzled expression.

“Walk her to her door, for Christ’s sake!”

“I-I don’t think that’s a great idea,” Eddie explained hesitantly.

“Where are your manners?” Wayne scolded him, raising his voice. Eddie grumbled in frustration but ultimately gave in, cussing under his breath as he exited the car to follow you.

He ran after you, breathless once he finally caught up to you. “Sorry, I should’ve walked you-” He mumbled

You shook your head interrupting him, “no, it’s fine.” 

“So, uhhh…” He started, gaining your attention back to him. “Goodnight.” Eddie grumbled with a scratch of his head, barely able to look at you. He didn’t want to leave things like this, but the damage was already done. You could see the guilt in his eyes, but it didn’t matter now. 

He wondered what you would think of the notes; would you even read them? Would you get mad at him for the things he wrote? 

“Goodnight, Eddie.” You muttered back, turning to the door as you avoided looking at him, your finger shakily retrieved your key as you fumbled with it, doing everything in your willpower to not turn back at him. 

Eddie walked away with the same thoughts eating away at him. Were you going to look back at him? The temptation got the best of him, and he turned with a shy nod. You were struggling with your keys, muttering in frustration, and the sight unintentionally brought a smile to his lips before he hurried back to his car.

The moment you heard his car door open, you turned, slowly and reluctantly, only for your gaze to meet Wayne’s, who had an all-knowing smirk playing at his lips, waving at you. 

You gave him a shy smile before you hurriedly turned your back, finally opening the door and rushing inside. 

“You idiot lovebirds are goin’ to be the death of me,” Wayne grumbled to himself with a shake of his head, watching the way you scurried inside.

Once you locked the door, you rested against it, a sigh of relief escaping your lips. Your thoughts were swirling,but there was only one thing that was overpowering everything else; the note. 

You furiously searched for it in your pocket, curiosity filling the course of your veins as you fished it out of the left one, your hand shaking as you held it in front of your eyes. 

The words scribbled in the closed note had your heart racing, afraid of what it was going to say, once you fully opened it, your eyes roamed through it quickly.

The note was dated a week ago. 

Don't fool yourself,

She was heartache from the moment that you met her.

My heart feels so still

As I try to find the will to forget her, somehow.

Oh I think I've forgotten her now.

(Is it obvious this last line is sarcasm?) 

Your fingers traced the line that had the parenthesis and were crossed out. Eddie’s notes. If you the tears that escaped your burning eyes weren’t distorting your vision, maybe you would’ve appreciated some of the lyrics, and his funny notes, even though they were messy and all over the place.

I don’t blame you, but sometimes I wish we hadn’t met. (This is kinda too out there, but there could be something from this???)

Your heart pounded against your ribcage—that familiar ache that never fully left returned with a sharper pain. It hurt that he thought of you in this way. He thought you ruined his life, and now he wished he had never met you. 

Those thoughts sank into your brain, and the anger that came with them was something you couldn’t comprehend. There was a lot more of the scribbled nonsense that you couldn’t read, other lyrics that were scratched out. 

Your hands were shaking once you flipped it over. The other note was dated today. 

I lied, didn’t I? I think I would prefer all the heartache in the world to not knowing you. I didn’t even realize that until today. Until I saw you across the room. And I can’t even explain how good it felt to look up and see you standing there. Even with that frown adorning your face.

Your tears hadn’t stopped, falling onto the piece of crumpled up paper and making a mess. 

You felt like an idiot; you should’ve told him when you had the chance, and you had a lot of them. You were angry that you let everyone walk over you. You were angry that Billy had gotten away with everything. And now, Chrissy had a chance with him without ever paying for the consequences of what she did. 

You couldn’t let that happen.

You didn’t want to be polite with your sadness anymore You didn’t want to absorb everyone’s pain to make sure they were okay. And you hated that that’s what you did essentially did when you didn’t tell Eddie about Chrissy. 

You paced around the room, biting down on your nails. 

Should you tell him? Or was that too selfish?

Because if you wanted to tell him, you had just the perfect opportunity to tell him and confront Chrissy; the brunch. 

✦ final authors note —ALSO THE CHRISSY STUFF WILL BE REVEALED NEXT CHAPTER. IM SORRY FOR TEASING IT SO LONG BUT THE REVEAL IS GONNA BE GOOD I PROMISE LMAO. if you like this series pls support me by rbing liking and commenting ily thank youu🫶🏻 [EDIT: i forgot to say this but ofc the lyrics are not mine they are by jeff buckley’s incredible song “forget her” i listened to it A LOT writing this chapter👀 also if u can guess what the chapters title is inspired by ily]

permanent taglist (lmk if u want to be added): @mandyjo8719 @kellsck @batkin028 @hideoutside @sashaphantomhive @nabiiturner @andvys (ILY.)