#anyway i won't stop the self reblogs

[teh-nos]

the internet says to "promote your fics on social media" and i do link them from tumblr it's just they get about two notes so while i do it anyway sometimes i feel a bit daft. i'm assuming at least a few people click to look at them but i might just be making that up.

this won't stop me though. so there!!!!

[furrama]

I see that Tumblr has a main character. Haven't had one of those in a while. And, unfortunately for the rest of us, he might be the last one.

[ja3yun]

Tie me in Ribbons | S.JY

sub!jake x dom!reader warnings: smut (mdni), oral (m. rec), unprotected sex, cream pie, sub!jake, edging, petnames (good boy, princess, baby), use of ribbons, choking, nipple play, praising, actually very cute, almost no plot at all, not proofread, anything else lmk! w.c: 12.2k synopsis: when jaeyun stumbles across one of your old diaries, he gets an inside look into your fantasies and decides it's time you explore them. a/n: hi! i have never written sub!enha before so please understand that it might not be great but bear with me <33 this was pure self indulgence and it won't be everyone's cuppa so feel free to skip! if you remeber love me tender, its kinda like the opposite of that! as always, comments, reblogs, and feedback is all welcome!

Jaeyun’s hands skim over the bedsheets for what feels like the umpteenth time, smoothing out creases that are barely there, his thoughts racing faster than his fingers. There’s a flutter in his chest that tilts between anxiety and excitement, and honestly, he’s uncertain which is winning.

Yesterday, while tidying up the shared apartment you moved into three years ago, Jaeyun stumbled upon something he never expected to find: the forbidden codes of your mind. Your old diary.  It toppled from the top shelf of your wardrobe as he sifted through the pile of clothes that seemed to grow with every season. The impact stung as it bounced off his head, but the pain was forgotten the moment his eyes landed on the words scrawled prettily across the cover - Y/N of 2021.

Now, Jaeyun is always someone who respects your boundaries. Never has he snooped through your phone or done anything that would express distrust in you, because quite frankly, he trusts you with his entire chest. 

Ever since the day he met you at university almost four years ago, he knew both of you were destined to be together until the end of time, his heart leapt straight into your chest and declared you his new home. It was love at first conversation for him. Your voice, your thoughts, your laughter - they wrapped around his soul like a warm embrace, claiming him entirely.

That diary, though - its pages whispered a possibility he couldn’t resist. It might hold the answer to the one question he’s carried since the day of dawn: Did you feel it too? That instant connection.

At first, he hesitated. But curiosity, paired with a need so tender it almost ached, won out. He flicked through its pages cautiously, skipping over pages that didn’t seem relevant to him. But even then, 70% of it turned out to be about him anyway. His breath caught in his throat with every mention of his name, every observation of his quirks, every confession of how your feelings bloom with each kiss. The remaining 30%? Literally just about the time before you met him.

You had noticed him, thought about him, written about him. You’d recorded every little moment, from your first awkward exchange to the way your heart betrayed you, beating faster in his presence. Reading those words was like holding your heart in his hands, fragile and real. It answered his question with a resounding yes. You did feel the same as him, from the very beginning.

But, as he was ready to close the diary, his heart full and his curiosity satisfied, something stopped him. A page adorned with pink hearts and misshaped bows, caught his eye…What’s one more page after sixty-four others?

August 23rd 2021.

Dear Diary,

Sim Jaeyun is sooooooo...I can’t put it into words. Every time I look at him, I want to wrap him up in pretty ribbons because he truly is a gift from the universe. Today, he met me outside of class and bought my usual lunch from Tesco - he even has a clubcard! (swoon!) And then he just spent time with me. It’s the bare minimum but I’m really enjoying having someone who loves being around me and taking the time to ask me silly questions which lead to deeper conversations. He’s perfect - and I don’t throw that word around lightly because literally nothing is perfect except maybe a cherry iced americano - which was also in his hand when he came to pick me up <33

He’s the best boyfriend ever. I’ve said it before to you, twenty times I guess by now, but I love him. I love being in love with him. I want to cherish him for the rest of my life, put pretty bows in his hair and call him my perfect boy. I want to kiss all over his chest and heart so he feels how much I adore him.

Between you and me, Diary, I had a sex dream about him last night. I came home from class and he was there, lying on my bed with ribbons all over his body. Ugh! He looked so good all I could do was pounce on him and fuck him until the cows came home. He was so needy and I was commanding and hot, and he loved it all. Of course, my alarm for today ruined it, but I don’t think it’s left my brain - or will - for the foreseeable. 

I wonder if he would let me do all of that? 

He’s not dominant but he definitely likes to take charge. I don’t mind that, fuck, I love it and I literally beg him to bend me over any chance we get. But wouldn’t it be fun to have him wriggling under me…to have his cock twitch because I’m teasing him. He might be into it, but we’ve also only been dating for 5 months so…maybe I’ll bring it up in a few years. Not like we won’t be together forever, right? There’s more time to look forward to.

You never know what the future holds, but I really hope it involves Jaeyun. Ribbons or not.

Anyway! I have to go to sleep; exam tomorrow :(( Speak tomorrow!

~ Y/N <33

The words he read had initially shocked him, then left him baffled, and finally sparked an idea so clever he’s spent the past few hours bringing it to life. He’s going to turn your fantasies into reality - ribbons, wriggling, and all.

He’s going to let you take control.

Is it risky, considering you wrote it four years ago? Maybe. But it could also end up being the most spectacular surprise he’s ever pulled off. Perhaps even better than the time he brought his family dog to meet you in the park after she’d been away in Australia for months - a day you still insist was the best of your life.

Your sex life is good, better than good, it’s smut on tumblr level good. You have ways to spice it up while also enjoying the familiarity of it all. The way Jaeyun pounds into you like he’s trying to break the bed in record time - and breaking the bed isn’t new for him, ask the sales rep at the bed centre who has made more commission from Jaeyun alone that he can afford to take his kids to Italy every year.

And yes, you wrote that he loves taking charge, which he can’t deny. The sheer bliss he feels when you moan his name, the delighted giggles you let out when he calls you his good girl, and those soft, shared whispers of I love you - all of it makes his heart soar. But why not shake things up at least once?

If he’d known you wanted to flip the script and take the reins, he would’ve jumped at the chance years ago. Not because he expects to enjoy being on the receiving end - though he might, the way his cock twitched at your written confession was a clear indicator - but because he’d do absolutely anything for you. If you asked him to pluck a star from the sky, he’d sign up for the NASA programme tomorrow, suit up, and bring back the brightest one he could find.

Jaeyun does one final sweep down the bed before huffing, glancing once more at the crisp pastel pink sheets that you insisted on buying. They will get wrecked as soon as you step over the flat’s threshold, so he doesn’t know why he’s so determined to make the bed look like it came straight out of a showroom.

But he knows why. The final piece of his plan involves the delicate, baby-pink ribbon he’d rushed out to buy this morning. After poring over an assortment of options - who knew ribbons came in so many varieties? - he’d settled on silk. It reminded him of that night after the university charity ball, when he tied you up with his sleek black tie, the one you’d been so complimentary about, both as a neckpiece and as a restraint. A smirk plays on his lips at the memory of that night, the way your breath hitched when his hands bound your wrists, how your eyes sparkled with mischief and trust.

He reaches into the bag, grabbing the ribbon as the softness of the material settles over his fingertips. Definitely a good choice. It’s pretty, and he has a sneaking suspicion that you’re going to lose your mind once you see him draped in it. Jaeyun can’t help but smile at the thought, a certain pride swelling in his chest, accompanied by a smirk that showcases a tint of confidence.

And if you don’t want to fuck him like you did in your diary, he’ll use the ribbons on you instead. He has always wanted to tie your hands to your legs and tease your clit until you’re a sobbing mess, bedsheets covered in your essence as he makes you cum again and again, pleads falling from your lips as he takes what he wants without giving you what you need…

Next time.

It’s this feeling of certainty that gets him stripping down until he’s naked, flicking each piece of clothing into the hamper that finds home in the corner of your room. He won’t be needing them after all of this anyway; you’re both not leaving the bed any time soon, that’s for sure.

The full-length mirror captures his reflection in the best light; the sunshine fluttering through the window kisses over his pretty, tanned skin. Jaeyun isn’t full of himself - humble to his core even when he doesn’t need to be -  but right now he feels a little cocky. His stomach is toned from just enough gym sessions to make having a membership worth it, and his chest is still painted with faint claw marks from your last night of bed-bonking, your touch still engraved. 

His gaze slides down, following his body's curves, and finally lands between his legs. His cock already hangs heavy and slightly hard, as if he knows what’s coming - or maybe it’s the unknown that has him bricking up. 

He has always been proud of it, not just its size - though he will pat himself on the back - but the things it has done to you.  The mess you make over it, how your juices honour it with each thrust and bounce. He's seen how your body reacts, how your eyes roll back as you take him, how your thighs tremble, and how your voice shakes as you moan his name. Sometimes, your pussy tries to push him out - too much, too soon you always say, but then he gets swallowed inside of you, lost as your walls welcome his impressive size. That makes him feel powerful.

But today is all about you feeling powerful.

So, he grabs his cock and squeezes it firmly. “It’s not about you today, okay?” Jaeyun begins, stroking slowly in warning rather than pleasure, speaking directly to his shaft. “It’s about our girl and what she wants.”

Jaeyun tilts his head as he feels his cock jump slightly at the mention of some planned fun, not getting the full memo.  “Don’t get any ideas, mate,” he continues, tone amused but firm. “Don’t be fucking greedy and take over. And for the love of god don’t embarrass me by blowing the moment she calls you a good boy or whatever the fuck she’s going to say.”

Although he’s speaking directly to his cock, he is also saying it to himself. Talking to one head means talking to the other, or however the saying goes.

“She might tease,” he says, his grip loosening as he speaks more gently now, coaxing himself into the right mindset for the evening. “Fuck she might even be a little mean. But she doesn’t mean it, yeah? Let her have this. Let her do what she wants.”

Satisfied with his little one-sided conversation, he releases himself, taking one last glance at himself. There’s a flicker of something new in his features - a mix of anticipation and excitement. He feels ready. Speaking his thoughts out loud, to his cock no less, has somehow shifted his apprehension into eagerness, the idea of relinquishing control no longer unnerving but thrilling.

At the end of the day, this is for you. For your happiness. That’s what matters most to him, and always will.

Jaeyun starts with his chest, wrapping the ribbon carefully around him, the satin cool against the heat of his flushed skin. The first loop sits just above his nipples, taut enough to tease but not constrict, while the second layer falls just below them, framing his pecs with deliberance. With a quick tug and a messy knot at his back, he secures the binding in place. 

Moving lower, he grabs another length of ribbon, this time letting it fall more loosely around his waist. He drapes it artfully across his toned tummy, arranging the fabric with a sense of carelessness that still shows intention. Each movement is calculated, designed to highlight the sharp lines of his body that you adore so much. The ribbon clings just enough to suggest the faint curve of his v-line, the rest of the fabric dipping provocatively over his hips. The tail of the ribbon hangs low, trailing down over his cock. Far from concealing, it draws attention to the main gift underneath.

Satisfied with his work, Jaeyun exhales softly, a breath of contentment escaping his plumpy lips as he steps back to take in his reflection from a new perspective. The sight staring back catches him off guard as his pulse stumbles, and he feels a flicker of heat at the tip of his dick as his gaze roams over himself.

The delicate ribbon, pale against the warmth of his skin, transforms him into something otherworldly. The soft contrast heightens the definition of his body - his abs etched deeper into his stomach, his chest broad and prominent. Yet, there’s an ethereal quality to him now, as though the juxtaposition of strength and fragility has created something almost too beautiful to be real.

Jaeyun’s trembling fingers glide over the fabric, tracing its edges, his touch reverent and curious. The sensation sends a shiver down his spine, and he exhales a shaky breath, caught in a haze of disbelief and pride. He looks good. No, better than good. He looks fucking beautiful.

It’s a new kind of beauty, one he’s never seen in himself before. He’s accustomed to being called hot, handsome, and even cute on occasion. But this…this feels different. He feels irresistible, he looks so striking it’s hard to believe it’s his own reflection. Maybe he should consider modelling for those raunchy BookTok covers with half-naked men on horses.

Swallowing thickly, Jaeyun nods to himself, as if to anchor his thoughts and settle the pounding of his heart. He’s made absolutely the right decision. This was worth every single moment of preparation. A small, knowing smile graces his lips as he mutters to himself, “She’s going to love this…”

A grin forms on his blushed face, tearing his eyes away as he reaches for his phone. Now he just needs to get you here. But how? You’re studying for exams next week and the only way you’ll come home is if there is an emergency, but he hates the idea of panicking you. You will probably rush home, get mad that he lied, and then make him sleep on the couch. 

No, he needs a better way…

Then it hits him.

“I should take a picture for her!” Jaeyun exclaims to the empty room, the ghosts of your shared apartment watching him with amusement, their silent applause egging him on.

Between speaking to the ghosts and warning his cock, he’s not the most sane person in the world right now. 

But regardless of sanity or not, this is a perfect plan. How could you possibly resist coming home when he’s wrapped up like this, a living, breathing gift just for you?

It’s also a safe way to test the waters. If you reply with laughing emojis, he’ll laugh it off as a joke, something he did on a whim because he was bored. But if your response holds even a whisper of desire, Jaeyun is prepared. He’ll sprawl out on the bed and let you use every inch of him, ribbons and all.

Grabbing his phone, he swipes open the camera and steps back to get himself in frame. A moment of hesitation passes as he considers the best pose. He’s sent you nudes before, sure - pictures and videos of him holding his thick cock, teasing with soft movements, or those casual, aerial shots of his toned body from his gaming chair. Those were easy to pull off. But this? A sexy, teasing shot that’s literally impossible to resist? That’s a whole new ballgame.

Jaeyun tries a few positions, starting with an over-the-shoulder shot to highlight his perky bum. But the sloppy knots from the ribbon ruin the image, and he frowns at the result. Next, he flexes his left arm, veins protruding as his bicep bulges, his torso stretching just enough to shift the ribbons higher. He studies the photo for a moment before shaking his head in frustration.

“Jesus Christ, Jaeyun,” he mutters, rolling his eyes at himself. “She wants a soft boy, not some wannabe bodybuilder fuckboy with a small cock.” He lets out a huff of exasperation, tutting as he adjusts the ribbons once again.

Switching to video, he hits record, deciding it might be easier to sift through the footage later for the perfect screengrab. He winks into the lens, a playful twinkle in his eyes as his free hand drifts from his collarbone, down his chest, and towards his stomach, ghosting his skin.

He hooks his fingers into one of the ribbon loops, tugging it just enough to make the tail of fabric covering his cock dance suggestively. The movement is subtle, but it directs all attention downward, exactly like he wants.

Turning slowly, Jaeyun angles himself just right, concealing the messy knots while ensuring his ass is perfectly framed. It looks good, not Seungcheol from Seventeen level juicy, but no one can achieve that bar the man himself. Jaeyun’s ass is just right for you, thick enough to grab and claw at when he has you in a mating press, but subtle enough that he can fit into all types of jeans.

He lightly smacks his ass, dulling the sharp sting with a gentle caress. Jaeyun imagines it’s you spanking him and suddenly, he’s ready to get on all fours.

When the recording ends, he smirks at the screen, reviewing and scrutinising his award-winning performance.

And award-winning it is because the next hurdle he has to leap over is finding the perfect shot. But why settle for one still frame when he could just…send you the entire video?

And that’s exactly what he does.

Opening up your contact, he sees the last message you sent.

I love you, baby! kisses when i get home. promise <33

Jaeyun bites his lips together, concealing the cheshire cat smile that threatens to take over his entire face. He’s hoping for a lot more than just some kisses, and he thinks he might just get what he’s wishing for. 

Jaeyun: hey, my love! did you order something?

Y/N: no? not that i remember. why?

With that, he hits upload, the video takes a few minutes due to its length, and his thumbs jump across the keyboard as he writes the accompanying message.

A few moments pass and he hears nothing from you. He guesses it’s because you’re processing what you have just witnessed, but he can’t stop his brain from overthinking. His teeth gnaw at his bottom lip as he conjures up different scenarios for your reaction, some of which include disgust, embarrassment, and other not-so-nice outcomes. 

Jaeyun: [1 video attachment]there’s a present here for you

Then, those three dots wipe every thought.

Y/N: baby? what…is this?

Jaeyun: come home and find out, love ;)

Y/N: omw <33

As soon as your last message is received, he realises it’s do or die, so he cleans up the bedroom once again, the nerves and excitement merging into one ball of energy inside his heart. He is ecstatic that you clearly are at least intrigued by the idea, which is better than flat-out rejection or mockery.

He now needs to make sure he’s pretty for you.

_____

The keypad beeps echo in the landing as you punch in your PIN and you swing the door open with urgency. Kicking off your shoes without care, you barely notice the way they clatter against the wall. Your focus is singular, your movements egged on by a mix of confusion and curiosity.

The video still plays in your mind in a loop, and each frame burns into your memory. Watching it in the library had been a mistake - or perhaps the best decision of your day. You had felt an overwhelming rush of emotions: surprise that Jaeyun would do something so bold, intrigue at the sheer prospect of it, and then…that flush of heat that went from your cheeks and travelled straight to your cunt.

Your steps quicken, the familiar flat blurring as you stride towards the bedroom. Your pulse thrums in your ears, and your breaths come faster with each passing second. You’re not sure what to expect, but you know you need answers. 

Now.

The door to your bedroom is slightly ajar, the flicker of the dull lamp from inside might as well be compared to the white flash at the pearl gates of heaven. Taking a deep breath, your hand hovers at the door, your body waiting for you to mentally prepare yourself. Are you excited? For sure. Excitement isn’t even enough to describe the bubble in your chest. God, he looked so pretty in the video, you hope this isn’t some sick prank and he’s actually fully clothed behind the door. You shake the thought away, swallowing the lump in your throat, and push the door open.

The sight that greets you steals the breath from your lungs.

Jaeyun lays on your double-sized bed like a living work of art, his body draped in ribbons that teasingly hide the parts of his body your pussy is just now crying out for, your panties soaking instantly at the sight. He’s angled perfectly, one arm resting behind his head, the other draped across his stomach, fingers brushing the fabric. The pink ribbon winds around his chest, his abs, and down his hips, teasingly concealing just enough to leave your imagination reeling. His cock is so big though, that the ribbon isn’t even covering half of it and you could cum right now as your eyes widen and mouth slacks.

The pose it cheesy, it resembles Shawn Michaels on the cover of Playgirl if you’re being honest. But just like how wrestling fans in the 90s fawned over him with just a wrestling belt hiding his dick despite the awkward pose, you’ll do the same with your boyfriend - perhaps even more shamelessly. 

Jaeyun bites his lip, his teeth catching the soft flesh as his eyes dart down to himself before meeting yours again. “Surprise,” he murmurs, his voice dipping into that velvety bedroom tone he uses when describing in vivid detail how he plans to absolutely devour you. It sends a ripple of heat through your body, making it nearly impossible to focus, or rather figure out what to focus on. “So…what do you think?”

You let out a shaky breath, struggling to gather your thoughts. “I don’t even know what to think,” you manage, your words tumbling out in disbelief. Your eyes roam over him again, lingering shamelessly on the ribbon that teases more than it hides. “But I know you look so fucking hot.”

A grin spreads across his face, slow and sultry, as though your words are a symphony and he’s savouring every note. “Not pretty?” he quips, teasingly twirling the loose end of the ribbon between his fingers.

Your gaze locks onto the veins snaking up his forearms. They’re hypnotic, and you’re suddenly struck by the thought of gripping onto them, feeling their pulse under your desperate hands as he works you over with his fingers. The mere idea has your body responding, a warm ache blooming between your thighs.

Jaeyun raises an eyebrow, pulling you out of your spiralling thoughts. “Lost in there, baby?” he asks with a smirk, his teasing tone dripping with amusement.

“I mean…yeah,” you murmur, barely audible, your voice laced with awe. “You look beautiful. Perfect.” The last word is whispered, but it's easily the most earnest confession to fall from your lips.

A faint blush blooms across his cheeks, barely visible in the dim lighting, but enough to make your heart flutter. He shifts, sitting up on the bed with his legs spread and knees bent, the new position giving you an unfiltered view of his semi-hard cock. The tip is flushed, indicating that he’s been holding back as he waits for you, and the sight alone has you clenching around nothing.

“I’m glad you think so,” he says smoothly, gesturing to his body like it’s a gift he’s unwrapping just for you. “Because it’s all yours, baby. Do whatever you want.”

Your stomach tightens, a thrill shooting through you at his words. “What?” you whisper, needing to hear it again for clarification, because you’re sure your arousal is messing with your brain receptors. 

“I’m yours to use,” he explains, his voice dropping into a husky murmur. “Just for tonight. Make me beg, whimper. Edge me. Tease me. Choke me. Tie me up with these ribbons. Whatever your pretty little head dreams up. I’m at your mercy.”

A gush of wetness soaks your panties, your body betraying your excitement before you can even process his offer. This has been a long-standing fantasy of yours, one you’ve never fully admitted to him, though you’d tried to hint at it countless times. The idea of taking control, of pinning him down and making him unravel beneath you, had lingered in the corners of your mind for years.

But somehow, he’d never caught on. All the subtle moments - your fingers wrapping around his throat but never squeezing, the way you’d pressed him into the mattress but let him take the reins again - had flown over his head. It seemed your silent desires had fallen flat.

Until now.

Your chest tightens at the thought. “You mean…” you trail off, your voice hesitant, hoping he’ll fill in the gaps so you won’t have to say it out loud.

His smirk grows, confidence radiating off him in waves. “I mean you have free reign,” he says, leaning back slightly, the ribbons shifting to reveal just a bit more of his toned stomach. “I’ll be your good boy the entire night.”

That does it to you. 

Next thing you know, you’re pouncing on the boy, pinning him back to the bed as your lips crash against his with hunger you can’t contain, your bodies instinctively fitting together like yin and yang. His breath hitches as your mouths meld, the soft, pliant press of his lips yielding eagerly to you. You kiss him like you’ve been starving, like the taste of him is the only thing that could ever satiate you, and his low, needy moans tell you he feels the same. You would think that you hadn’t seen each other for months, deprived of touch, but in reality, you were tangled like this just last night.

Your tongue flicks against his, a bold swipe that coaxes him to open further for you. The heat between you grows with every glide of your tongue against his, every playful nip at his bottom lip that makes him shudder beneath you. His hands hover at your hips, unsure if he is allowed to touch, unfamiliar with this new dynamic, but you’re already too far gone to notice.

You pull back slightly, just enough to move your attention to his neck, dragging your lips across the sensitive skin. A breathless chuckle escapes him, quickly turning into a sharp inhale as you nip at his pulse point, your teeth leaving claims over him. The quiet gasps and whimpers that fall from his lips fuel you further, your lips and teeth trailing lower, leaving a delicate constellation of marks down the column of his throat. 

When you reach his collarbone, you let your tongue dart out to taste him, revelling in the way he squirms beneath you. You’ve heard him moan, but never like this, like he’s moaning in both pleasure and pain. The pain comes from the desperate need to take control. You nip gently, then soothe the spot with a kiss, and he lets out a broken moan, his head tipping back into the plush pillows. 

But it’s his chest that truly captures your attention. The ribbon wrapped snugly around him creates a pretty display, his nipples peeking out like individual presents waiting to be unwrapped. You can’t help but smirk as you dip your head lower, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to the centre of his chest before trailing to one side.

You pause just above his nipple, the soft rise and fall of his breathing making it all the more tempting. Without hesitation, you brush your lips over the taut bud, then suck lightly at the sensitive skin. His reaction is immediate - a sharp intake of breath, followed by a low groan that sends a thrill straight through you. He’s into this and you’ve barely even started.

Tonight is going to be so much fun.

Straddling his lap, you take a moment to admire the way he looks beneath you, the ribbons framing him perfectly, his chest flushed and glistening from your attention. He’s exquisite, vulnerable in a way that makes your heart race. You grip the top layer of the ribbon, using it to pull him up towards you.

“Come here,” you murmur, your voice soft but commanding. His eyes flutter open, dazed and dark with arousal, and he obeys without hesitation. You kiss him again, this time slower, deeper, savouring every moment.

When you pull back, your hand drifts to his chest, your thumb brushing over his nipple, slow but with pressure. The effect is instantaneous - he hisses, his body jerking slightly as he throws his head back.

“Fuck,” he breathes, his voice shaky, the word drawn out like a plea. His reaction makes your smirk grow, confidence surging through you.

“Not used to being touched here, huh?” you tease, your voice a low purr as you circle his nipple again, watching the way his body tenses and trembles under your touch. “I didn’t know you were so sensitive, baby.”

“Neither did I,” he confesses. Considering he did most - if not all - of his sexual exploring with you, it makes sense. If you both haven’t tried something together, he doesn’t know about it. As much as this is fulfilling a fantasy for you, it’s also opening up his horizons, helping him explore his body and needs. And so far, he’s loving every second.

He flutters his eyes closed, enjoying the pressure and pull of your thumbs on his nipples, and instinctively, his hands trail up your body, dipping under your t-shirt so he can feel your soft skin under the pads on his fingers. Jaeyun tries to cup your tits, but when you feel him, you surprise him - and yourself - with something entirely new.

You pinch his nipples tight, twisting them enough to make him yelp and jerk his hands away.

“Ow!” he yelps, his hands that tried to grope you now bunched up at his sides. 

“Baby, oh my god, are you okay? Did I hurt you?” you blurt out, eyes wide with worry as your hands move to cup his face. Frantically, you search his gaze for any sign of pain or discomfort. Though you find traces of both, there’s a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes.

“You caught me off guard, that’s all, princess,” he reassures you softly, his hands covering yours. The sight of your panicked expression tugs at his heartstrings, and he can’t help but pout playfully. “It’s okay. You can do whatever you want, remember?”

You nod slowly, agreeing that while yes that was the plan, you don’t want him to not enjoy it. Your fingers slide down to entwine with his, hoping to soothe him. “Maybe we should use a safeword,” you suggest tentatively, biting your lip.

Jaeyun bursts into laughter, his chest shaking as he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “What are you planning to do to me, baby, huh?” he teases, waggling his eyebrows mischievously.

His reaction only makes you groan, covering your face with your hands as you shake your head. “No! Not like that,” you protest, your voice muffled by your palms. “This is new for me, and I didn’t even know I was going to… tweak your nipples…”

Jaeyun laughs again, this time with immense fondness at its base, eyes crinkling at the edges as he reaches up to pull your hands away from your face. “Baby, don’t hide,” he whispers, his thumbs brushing the back of your hands. “I can take it, I was just surprised.” His voice is warm and reassuring. He’s so considerate and loving, even after you’ve violated his nipples…what a man.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to push you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with…I mean we can just have sex like normal. You can tie me-”

“Stop,” Jaeyun cuts you off with a small laugh, his tone steady but playful. “No. You want this, and I want this. I can handle a little nipple play or whatever else that pretty mind of yours comes up with.” He punctuates his words with a gentle poke to your forehead, his grin so genuine and full of trust that you almost break down sobbing. You lean in to kiss him, melting all your apprehensions away. 

As you pull back, you find your resolve again. If he wants this, and so do you, then you should do it. 

“Okay… yeah…” you murmur, clearing your throat and slipping back into the role you’d started to embrace. Your voice takes on a firmer tone as you meet his gaze. “No touching me unless I say so. And no taking over. These are my only rules. I really want to try this properly.”

Jaeyun nods excitedly as his cock twitches, watching your eyes go from concern to slowly regaining that power you had earlier, the commanding presence that seems to wrap around you like a second skin. He can’t lie, it’s so fucking sexy to him - this new allure and aura that seems to overtake you when you’re on top of him. “Yes, Ma’am.”

With that, your hands grip the hem of your t-shirt and pull it over your head, discarding it without breaking eye contact with the boy underneath you. Jaeyun instantly begins to lick his lips, knowing you’re going for your lavender bra next.

When Jaeyun says he loves your tits, it means he loves your tits. Adores them. Cannot think of anything better than fondling them, sucking them, marking them, even just holding them in his hand while you both watch a movie. He’s obsessed. If you plan on depriving him, that might just be the hardest part of this.

Your hands circle to your back, grabbing the clasp and undoing it achingly slow. Jaeyun almost pants like a dog as he awaits his favourite treats. 

“You can’t touch until I say so,” you warn him, already pre-empting the inevitable. He’s going to swarm in, his eyes already giving his intention away more than his prodding cock against your ass.

“Okay…don’t be mean though,” he whines, licking his lips in anticipation, hands scrunching up beside him. He wants nothing more than to pin you draw you closer to him and bury his face into your pretty, tantalising chest.

You can’t help but smirk as you see him practically drooling over your body, feeling how he wriggles underneath you as he impatiently waits for you to give him the green light. Jaeyun swipes his tongue over his bottom lip as he looks up at you, like butter wouldn’t melt, and you almost fold. The stars in his eyes set your heart racing and blood pulsing.

Your boyfriend has those eyes, the one that can make you flip your mind and give him anything he wants. You’ve spent years trying to master how to not give in, to stand your ground and finally have your way for once. Yet, all his attempts have worked. Every. Single. Time.

But not today.

Instead of giving in to his unspoken pleas, you cup your breasts in your hands, kneading them slowly and deliberately, as if moulding the softest dough. Your fingers tease your nipples, catching them just enough to send a shiver of pleasure down your spine, your breath escaping in a quiet, lustful sigh. They don’t feel nearly as good as Jaeyun’s hands do, but the expression on his face makes it all worthwhile.

Jaeyun’s gaze stays glued to you, wide and glassy, like a starving man who can see the sweetest fruit just out of reach. His eyes follow every movement, his thighs clenching and relaxing in time with the slow rhythm of your hands. His lips part slightly, and his tongue flicks out with each pinch you give your nipples, as if he can almost feel it himself.

The way he reacts - so helpless and captivated - only fuels your confidence. You wonder how much further you can push him before offering even a shred of mercy. Slowly, your hips begin to roll against him, the rough denim of your jeans grazing over his shaft. The friction pulls a sharp inhale from his lips, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard, overwhelmed by the sensation.

When soft, breathy moans escape your lips, your body moving in perfect harmony with the teasing motion of your hands, he feels caught in a torturous balance between bliss and agony. You’re divine, ethereal, and just out of reach; close enough to admire but too far to claim.

“Fuck, baby, you’re enjoying yourself, huh?” His voice is strained, his words not really a question but more of a jealous statement.

You smirk, grinding a little harder against him. While the thickness of your jeans dulls your own sensations, the way his ragged breaths hitch with every movement is more than enough to keep you going. “I love it. Don’t you?”

Jaeyun chuckles, nodding eagerly. “Yeah, I love it,” he admits, his voice breathy and filled with want. He hesitates for a moment, biting his lip as if the next words might be too bold, too risky. He’s terrified you’ll stop the intoxicating pressure against his cock. “I would love it even more if-”

“If I touched you?” you interrupt with a sly grin, your voice dripping with mischief.

It wasn’t what he was going to say - not exactly. What he wanted was to touch you, to feel your skin under his palms and reclaim even a little bit of control. But if you’re offering him pleasure, he’s not about to argue.

Your hands leave your chest, letting your breasts bounce naturally as they settle. The sight makes Jaeyun’s breath hitch, his eyes glued to the mesmerising way they jiggle. A low sound escapes his throat, almost like a purr, and you can feel the heat of his gaze travelling over every inch of you.

The corners of your lips twitch as you stand up slowly, your hips swaying slightly as you step off the bed. His eyes spark, and the loss of your weight on him is immediately missed, but his curiosity overrides his disappointment. You reach for the button of your jeans, unhooking it with teasing slowness.

“You’ve been so good for me,” you say, your voice soft yet commanding. “I think you deserve a little more, don’t you?”

Jaeyun nods frantically as he watches you with rapt attention. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as you shimmy out of your jeans, letting the fabric slide down your legs. You step out of them, kicking them to the side without breaking eye contact.

Now standing before him in nothing but your panties, you let the tension linger, watching the way his chest rises and falls with every ragged breath. His gaze drinks you in, and his jaw slacks as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing even though he has seen you in those pretty blue pants more than he can count. They’re your favourite pair after all.

“Better?” you ask, cocking your head to the side with a playful smirk, relishing in how he devours you with his gaze.

“Fuck, yes.” 

You climb back onto the bed, positioning yourself between his legs and you see his cock, red and hard, laying against his stomach and over those pretty ribbons. The contrast between the angry and the delicate makes your tummy flutter and pussy pulse. 

Dipping your head down, you run your tongue in one slow, sensual stroke from the base of his length to the tip, tracing the prominent vein like it’s a map guiding you to treasure. Jaeyun’s reaction is instant; his hips buck up as he demands more, and a deep, guttural groan escapes his lips. The soft, wet warmth of your tongue gives him just a taste of what he craves, but it’s nowhere near enough to satisfy him.

You don’t stop there. Instead, you shift your focus, trailing your tongue up his torso, leaving a path of kisses over each ribbon he put so much effort into. Each kiss is like a silent thank you for making him look even more breathtaking than he already does. Your hands grip his hips firmly, holding him down with as much strength as you can muster to keep his excited movements in check.

Jaeyun’s breathing is erratic, his chest rising and falling rapidly as you continue your ascent. Your teeth nip at his skin playfully, just enough to make him gasp and shiver beneath you. Exactly what you want.

“You’re so needy, baby,” you tease softly, your voice laced with amusement.

His head falls back against the pillow, his hands gripping the sheets tightly as he fights the urge to take control. “And you’re a tease,” he mutters, though there’s no real bite in his words - just breathless adoration.

You hum in response, your lips curling into a smirk as you reach his collarbone, nipping and sucking gently before kissing the spot to soothe it. His body trembles under your touch, and you feel a surge of satisfaction knowing you’re driving him wild.

“Good boys don’t complain,” you murmur against his skin, your hands still firmly planted on his hips.

Jaeyun swallows hard, his eyes fluttering open to meet yours. “Jesus fuck, if you keep talking like that, I’m gonna bust,” he admits, his earlier resolve crumbling under the weight of your words. The way you call him a good boy, it’s so much better than anything his imagination could have conjured.

You smirk, leaning in closer until your face is mere inches from his, your breasts hovering just above his chest. The silk ribbon brushing against your own sensitive nipples sends a spark of pleasure through you, adding to the growing fire inside. “That’s another rule, actually,” you purr. “You can’t cum until I say so.”

“Wai-”

“No talking back, baby,” you interrupt, your hand sliding to the base of his neck. Your fingers tighten just enough to send a warning, your power over him radiating through the simple touch. “Do as you’re told.”

Jaeyun’s jaw tightens, his instinct to argue bubbling up, but the glint in your eyes and the sheer joy radiating from you makes him pause. He can see how much you’re revelling in the moment, how fully you’ve stepped into this role. So he yields, nodding.

“Okay,” he murmurs, his voice soft and filled with both love and resignation. “I promise.”

His heart flutters, a mix of disappointment and excitement swirling within him. He knows you’re going to make him earn it, make him work for every ounce of pleasure. And while the thought of being denied drives him crazy, he can’t help but feel giddy seeing you so confident and in control. You’re getting everything that you wrote about, and he is so, so happy to be able to give you this.

You smile, brushing your lips over his cheek in a featherlight kiss. “Good boy,” you whisper, the praise making his body shudder beneath you. “Now, let’s see how long you can keep that promise,” you tease, your voice laced with wicked delight.

Removing your hand from his throat, you trail down his body the pads of your fingers brushing lightly over his skin and tugging at the ribbons, making his body shudder. You drum your fingers against his stomach, missing his strained cock each time. The vibrations shoot straight through him and make his dick jump, reaching out for you.

When you finally make contact with his cock, you wrap your fingers around the head with care, gripping it like it’s a joystick and playing with it teasingly.

Jaeyun sucks in a sharp breath, his hips twitching at the contact, but he holds himself back, remembering your rules, or at least trying to. You reward his restraint with a soft kiss on his lips, brief but sweet, before pulling away to make better use of your mouth.

Sliding down his body, you take your time, letting your lips graze his skin, your breath warm and whispy. His abs contract under your kisses, and his whimpers grow louder with every inch you descend. When you’re finally face-to-face with his shaft, you pause, letting the anticipation build as you glance up at him. His wide, pleading eyes meet yours, his chest heaving with each shaky breath.

“Doing so well, baby,” you murmur, your voice soft and filled with pure bliss. He is so good at this, being submissive, whether he’s playing it up to make this more enjoyable for you, or he is actually falling into his own role with the same amount of ease as you did yours, you’re thankful. 

Little do you know that Jaeyun is enjoying this much more than you are at this point.

Your tongue darts out, tracing a slow, wet line along the underside of his length, starting from the base and moving toward the tip. You pause to swirl your tongue around the head, savouring the way his body jolts at the contact. His groan is high-pitched, almost desperate, and it sends a thrill through you. He’s usually such a grunter, his moans low and primal, but now he’s almost like a puppy compared to a wolf.

“Please,” he breathes out, his voice barely above a whisper, but you don’t respond. Instead, you press your lips to his shaft, kissing your way back down to the base. You alternate between featherlight kisses and gentle nips, each one drawing a new sound from him - soft gasps, low groans, and broken moans, you name it, he’s making it.

Your hands hold his hips firmly in place, ensuring he can’t move as your mouth continues its torment. You flatten your tongue against him, licking up his length in long, languid strokes, relishing in every beautiful inch. The contrast between the warmth of your mouth and the cool air in the room has him trembling beneath you. With each attempt to wiggle, the pink ribbons tighten around him, adding a new layer of lust to his loins.

“Y-you’re killing me,” Jaeyun stammers, his voice trembling as his head falls back against the pillow.

You hum against him, the vibration making him shudder. “Oh, we’re just getting started,” you purr, your lips brushing against the sensitive skin just below the head.

Finally, you take him into your mouth and begin sucking gently, your cheeks hollowing as you create the perfect amount of pressure. His hands clutch the sheets, his knuckles white as he fights the urge to reach for you. All he wants to do is grab your hair and make you go faster or to start throat fucking you until he’s pouring you a glass of his seed. 

But you move slowly, taking your time, pulling off with a soft pop before returning to tease him again, your tongue flicking over the slit. Your tongue dips into him, swirling around and reaching as deep as you can. Jaeyun has never in his life experienced something so tortuous yet delicious. Somehow, you’re giving him what he wants and it still isn’t enough, like you know how to just get him on the edge before stepping back.

Jaeyun’s whimpers grow louder, his voice breaking as he pleads. His body is taut, every muscle straining as he struggles to keep his promise. “Please… please…” he chokes out, tears pricking the corners of his eyes from the sheer intensity of your teasing.

You glance up, your lips curling into a wicked smile as you meet his gaze. “Not yet, baby,” you whisper, your voice dripping with authority. “Be patient for me.”

His groan is a mix of frustration and submission, and you can’t help but feel a surge of satisfaction at the sight of him - completely undone, trembling, and at your mercy. He gets even more worked up once you take him completely in your mouth, his head kissing your tonsils before you quickly take it all away again. The only thing he can do is kick his legs each time your warm mouth is replaced with the cold air of the room. 

To you, it’s adorable; his scrunched up, frustrated face with his bottom lip slightly pouting. You can tell he’s seconds away from picking you up and taking over, letting you have it rough and hard for being cruel like this. And as much as that sounds delightful, this is also far too much fun.

So you do it again, and again, and again, until he finally cries out, pleading incoherently. “Just let me cum, “ he mewls out, “Fuck, I’m being so good.” The end of his sentence comes with a high-pitched groan as you grab onto his balls, gripping them just enough that it’s more pleasurable than painful. 

“You are being so good,” you begin, giving him a false sense of hope. “But that was before you demanded I let you cum.” And just like that, his face falls, all that hope vanishing into thin air and the grip you have on his balls tightens, transforming that euphoric pleasure into agony. 

He arches off the bed and his hands grip the sheets, somehow still restraining himself from touching you. Jaeyun feels a mix of everything. Desperation from the need to cum, distress from the pressure you’re putting on his sensitive balls, and pride that you’re having a great time. Sure, it’s sort of at his expense, but he would be lying if he didn’t admit that underneath the bruising balls and edging he wasn’t having the time of his life. 

No wonder you love it so much when he's in control, being at his command. It’s fun and exciting, albeit painful. 

You loosen your grip, checking his face to assess how he’s feeling. Crushing his balls wasn’t a fantasy, and you don’t take great pleasure in causing him pain, but something inside you assured your worried mind that he would love it. And by the smile on his face and heaving in his ribbon-clad chest, you were right. 

He is loving this.

“Now, do you want to ask again nicely?” You offer him the chance to beg, massaging his balls to ease the ache you caused which only riles him up more, his length leaping once with sheer joy.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he breathes, a pleased smile overtaking the remnants of his earlier wince. The pain is a fading memory now, overshadowed by the way your touch sends sparks through him. “Please...may I cum?”

You release a soft hum, dragging your nails lightly over his sensitive sacks, eliciting a shudder that courses through his entire body. His chest quivers, the ribbon tied around it a cruelly beautiful contrast to his helplessness. You take your time, savouring the way his voice falters in its eagerness, the desperate edge that sounds so foreign from his lips.

“Hmm,” you murmur, pretending to consider it as your hand trails upward, fingers ghosting over the base of his length. “I don’t know if you’ve earned it yet.”

His hips jerk, entirely involuntary, as though his body seeks for the permission his lips have lost confidence to beg for. That insatiable hunger in his eyes, those pupils blown wide with need and reverence - it’s intoxicating. He’s utterly yours.

“Please,” he tries again, voice cracking ever so slightly. It’s almost pitiful, but there’s no denying the thrill it sends through you. “I need to, baby. Please let me cum.”

The power in your hands feels like fire and ice, a balance of control and chaos. You grip his chin lightly, tilting his face up to meet your gaze. “Do you?” you ask softly, the question hanging in the air like a challenge. “Tell me how badly you want it.”

He swallows hard, the muscles in his throat bobbing against your touch. “More than anything,” he says hoarsely, his breath coming in shallow, shaky waves. “I’ll do whatever you want, anything - just let me have this.”

Your lips curl into a slow, knowing smile. “Good boy,” you praise, leaning in just enough for your breath to ghost over his lips, teasing but not quite giving him what he craves. “But I’ll decide when you’ve earned it. And you’ll wait, won’t you?”

The groan that escapes him is somewhere between frustration and ecstasy, his head falling back as he nods fervently, every muscle in his body taut with restraint. “Okay. I’ll be patient.”

You cup his cheek and bring his eyes back to yours. “Thank you, Jaeyun. For all of this.” It’s a thank you for being good, but it’s also a thank you for letting you explore this. You don’t know why he decided to do this today or how he figured your desires out, but you’re thankful for it all. 

Not many men would let you crush their balls and respond with a smile.

The tenderness of your touch flows through to your boyfriend’s chest, injecting his heart with a newfound gem of love. He has a treasure chest of gold and rubies in there just for you, overflowing with gratitude and adoration. Each time you share a quiet moment like this, the treasure gets more grand, taking up much-deserved space. He carries around your love, heavy and cherished.

“Anything for you, baby,” he murmurs, smiling softly at you, the light in his eyes conveying his love. “Can I get permission to kiss you, or?”

You giggle, nodding your head. “Yes, you can kiss me.”

You roll your eyes, shaking your head with exaggerated disappointment. “No. And now, thanks to your cheek, you’ve just earned yourself an even longer wait.”

And with that, Jaeyun captures your lips in his, gentle yet passionate, tentative but meaningful. His hand cups your cheek, guiding your head into a tilt as you nuzzle against his touch. Despite the roles you’re both playing there’s a window of just being Y/N and Jaeyun. It’s perfect. 

"Since you're feeling generous...can I cum?" He wiggles his brows, chancing his arm that you'll say yes even though just two minutes ago you told him no.

“Oh, c’mon-”

“Shh!” you cut him off sharply, your voice laced with authority and amusement. “Or I’ll make it so you don’t cum at all.”

That shuts him up instantly. His mouth clamps shut, and his eyes widen in alarm, the threat of complete denial hitting him harder than any punishment ever could. It’s bad enough being forced to wait now, but the thought of being denied entirely? He won’t dare risk it. So, gulping down his protests, he nods meekly, slipping back into the role of the obedient sub you’ve trained him to be.

Satisfied with his compliance, you sit up, your movements unhurried as you slide your underwear down your legs. The air in the room seems to grow hotter, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that sends a rush of heat through your bloodstream. Your lips glisten under the dim light, catching his attention like a lighthouse beyond the dark sea. He stares, his throat working as he swallows hard, his desire palpable in the way his chest heaves and his hands twitch with restraint.

In an ideal world - his ideal world - he’d be between your legs right this fucking second, his face buried between your thighs, tasting you, worshipping you until you unravel on his tongue over and over again. He’d wear your pleasure like a mask, his face shining with evidence of your release, and he’d be the happiest man alive - happier than he already is if you can believe it.

But that’s not the reality - not yet. So he waits, muscles straining with anticipation, his cock twitching in sync with his heartbeat, almost wagging like the eager tail of a dog desperate to please. Even his body seems to understand the privilege of what’s coming next - the sheer joy of being buried deep inside you.

What does recognise deep down though, is the torment that comes with that privilege. Because let's face it, you’re not about to make it easy for him. Not tonight. And he’s prepared…he thinks.

Your hand strokes him again, leisurely dragging along his length, each slow pump a deliberate tease that pulls a low groan from deep within his chest. His restraint is paper-thin, and you know it. You line him up at your entrance, loving the way he shudders beneath you, every nerve ending alight with anticipation and greed. 

As you begin to sink down onto him, the air between you shifts, its intensity has both of you gasping. The stretch is magical, the way he fills you inch by inch sending a flood of pleasure up your spine. A shared moan escapes, his deep and guttural, yours breathy and high-pitched, the perfect harmony of bodies fitting together, just like always.

Your hands rest on his stomach, fingers splayed over the soft ribbon binding him, and you watch as his head tips back, exposing the vulnerable column of his throat. His lips part in a silent cry, and his eyes flutter shut, overwhelmed by the way your warmth grips him, tight and unrelenting.

But you don’t rush. No, that would be too easy. He’s already so close you know that if you gave him what he wanted, you’d be full of his seed in a minute. Instead, you move torturously slowly, lifting your hips just enough to keep him on the edge before sinking back down, your walls fluttering around him in a way that makes him curse under his breath.

“Patience,” you giggle, a sly smile playing on your lips as you roll your hips just slightly, just enough to make his cock twitch inside you. “You’re supposed to be my good boy, remember?”

His hands fist the sheets beneath him, his knuckles white with the effort of holding back. “I am,” he rasps, his voice strained, desperate. “I am your good boy. Please...Y/N, I am begging you to let me move.”

But you’re not ready to give him that freedom - not yet. So you ride him at your own pace, hips moving in a soft figure eight. It’s so pretty to see him hold back. Honestly, half of this night hasn’t even been you doing anything drastic - bar the ball squeezing and nipple tweaking - it’s all about what he can’t do. He can’t touch you, pound into you the way he does oh so well. He can’t even buck up his hips right now. That is what’s making this so torturous for him.

And so, so fun for you.

Bouncing once, you slam back onto him and he strains his entire body, the way your cervix batters down on the tip of his cock makes him see stars and his balls tighten, but you don’t budge after that, letting the feeling wash away and his orgasm sits at the base of his cock, never quite able to reach the top. 

Jaeyun can last hours in bed, there have been instances where he has made you cum at least four times before he even cums once. No matter how long he is inside you, he can hold out to prolong your pleasure. But because he’s relinquished all control to you, that also means holding back is proving a lot harder. 

You see him shaking, breathing out like he’s trying to calm himself down. His eyes prick with tears of desperation and you take a moment to soak in the sight of him beneath you. His flushed face and sweaty skin show you just how much he’s going through even if he can’t vocalise it. You would feel bad if his cock wasn’t jumping for joy inside of you.

Lifting your hips once more, you sit so only the tip of his cock is inside of you, and you squeeze your pelvis, eliciting a sweet moan from his lips and etching a pleased smile on your face. You grip the ribbons and admire how they dance under his contracting, needy body.

“They’re so pretty, Jaeyun,” you mutter, sinking back down fully onto his length. “So pretty.”

“They look good, right?” he asks with a smirk, though there is still a need for his slight insecurity to be soothed. Since this is new territory for him, he needs to be reassured that he has done well.

You nod, rolling your hips in a slow, deliberate motion that makes him groan. His cock presses against your walls perfectly, thick and unyielding, sending a wave of pleasure coursing through you. Your head tilts back, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as you let the sensation consume you. “They look amazing, baby,” you whisper, voice heavy with satisfaction. “So pretty on you.”

Gripping the ribbons like reins, you take control, moving your body with a confidence that leaves him breathless. Your hips gyrate in a rhythm that drives him wild, his hands clutching at the sheets as his body arches beneath you. Every motion, every sound, is a testament to how completely he’s yours.

Jaeyun’s breath is uneven as he struggles to hold himself together, the way you’re clutching onto the ribbons as you bounce your pussy on his shaft, expertly squeezing at both the bottom and top of his member. You can see it in his eyes - the need, the desperation - but he doesn’t move, his hands still gripping the sheets like they’re the only thing keeping him grounded.

“Please,” he finally whispers, whining out as his hands hover in the air.

You tilt your head, slowing your movements just enough to make him squirm beneath you. “Please, what, baby?” you ask softly, though your tone carries a teasing edge.

His fingers dance in the air, begging to latch onto something - or someone - and his gaze locks onto yours, raw and pleading. “Can I touch you?” he asks with such vulnerability in his voice it makes your heart ache in the best possible way. “Please…I need to.”

You pause for a moment, letting his words hang between you as your hands trail down the ribbons, pulling them tight enough just enough to remind him who’s in control. His body tenses beneath you, his cock throbbing inside you as he waits for your response.

Leaning down, you bring your lips close to his ear, your breath warm against his skin. “You have been really good for me, Jaeyun,” you murmur, your voice low and sickeningly sweet it’s hard to believe it’s honest. “So good. Maybe you do deserve a reward, huh?”

His breath hitches, hope flickering in his eyes as he nods eagerly. “I’ve been the best,” he huffs out through an excited laugh. “I’ve done everything you ask. Let me touch you? Please, baby.”

You smile, pressing a gentle kiss to his jaw before straightening up again. Releasing the ribbons from your grip, you reach for his hands, guiding them slowly toward your hips. His fingers tremble as they make contact with your skin, and the moment he feels you beneath his touch, a soft, reverent sigh escapes his lips. He hadn’t realised how much he enjoyed holding you until right now.

He will never take it for granted again.

“There,” you say softly, watching the way his hands explore you like he so casually always does, but this one feels more meaningful. “You can touch me anywhere.”

And he does. His hands slide over your hips, gripping you firmly but gently as if grounding himself in the reality of you. The warmth of his palms sends shivers down your spine, and his touch grows bolder with each passing second, his desperation translating into reverence and care. He makes his way to your tits, his eyes rolling back as he squeezes your breasts, flicking your nipples much like you had done to yourself earlier. 

“You feel so perfect,” he breathes, “You always do.”

You watch him, a mix of affection and desire swirling in your chest as you lean into his touch. “So do you, baby” you whisper, the words coaxing a groan from his lips as his grip tightens slightly as he realises you’re talking about the way his cock moves inside of you.

With that, you bounce on his cock with purpose. This has been fun, a lot of fun in fact, but you just want to feel him now. To just be with him and have sex. No more dom/sub, no more making him work for it.

Well…maybe there is one last thing you want to try before the night ends.

“Sit up for me, Jaeyun,” you command, and Jaeyun sits up as you instructed, his hands sliding down to grip your ass, his fingers digging into your skin as he pulls you closer. His chest presses against yours, the heat radiating between your bodies intensifying the moment. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his lips brushing against your skin as his breath comes out in short, ragged gasps. He doesn’t want to push it by kissing you

You tangle your fingers in his hair for a moment, letting him savour the closeness, before reaching for the ribbon tied across his chest. His body tenses slightly as he feels you undo the sloppy knot, but he doesn’t question it - to be honest, he’s too far gone, too consumed by you to do anything but follow your lead.

“You’re fucking perfect,” you murmur, the praise making him melt as you pull the ribbon free. The soft fabric slides against his skin and his eyes flicker up to meet yours, curiosity and desire swirling in their depths.

“What are you-” he starts, but his words are cut off as you loop the ribbon around his neck, pulling it by both ends just enough to make him gasp softly, the tightness cutting off his airwaves a fraction.

His lips part in surprise, his pupils blown wide as he stares at you. He expected a lot tonight, but somehow not you choking him with the ribbon he spent forever deciding upon. “You trust me, don’t you, Jaeyun?” you ask, your voice soft but commanding, your hands wrapping the ends of the ribbon between your fingers to secure your grip.

“Yes,” he breathes without hesitation, his voice barely above a whisper. “Always.”

A satisfied smile curves your lips as you tighten the ribbon just a little more, enough to make him feel strain but not enough to hurt. His hands grip your waist instinctively, his cock twitching inside you as the new sensation sends a bolt of lust through him.

Choking kink. Check.

“Good,” you reply, rolling your hips against him, the friction drawing a low moan from his throat. “Then let me take care of you.”

He nods, his head tilting back slightly as you tug on the ribbon, guiding his movements. His hands move restlessly over your body, gripping and caressing as though he can’t get enough of you.

“You look so good like this,” you whisper, your voice dripping with approval. “So pretty, Jaeyun. All mine.”

The praise makes him groan, his hips bucking up into you as he loses himself in the moment. The combination of your control and the intoxicating rhythm of your bodies leaves him utterly at your mercy, his breaths coming in shallow, needy gasps.

With every tightening of the ribbon and every bounce or roll of your hips, the tension between you builds, the air around you electric. The room is filled with the sound of your bodies moving together, his broken moans blending with your breathy sighs. Every pull of the ribbon tightens the coil of pleasure in both of you, and every bounce of your hips pushes you closer to the edge.

Jaeyun is infatuated with the way you’re choking him, how his head is getting lighter, and how you’re tightening it more and more the closer you are to coming undone. He’s choked you before, lots of times, and you always tell him you love it. But only now is he understanding why. It feels like he’s high, having an outerbody experience while still being attuned to everything around him.

It’s fucking unreal.

“I’m close, Jaeyun,” you whine, bouncing faster but rhythm faltering as you chase your release. This is where your doting boyfriend can lend a helping hand. Despite his own hazed state, he grabs your ass and guides you manually up and down his length in a rhythm he knows you love.

It’s frantic and raw, and you can feel the coil inside begin to burn. You kiss his temple and wrap your arms around his neck, the ribbon long forgotten and only the thought of cumming on your mind. Jaeyun doesn’t mind, he’s ready to pop any second so he welcomes the blood rushing back to his head so he can get you both there.

“Let go for me, princess. You did so well,” he whispers into your chest, your heart receiving the words like a love letter. “I’m cumming too, yeah?” he asks one more bought of permission to which you grant, crying out a definite ‘yes’.

Your head falls back, a cry escaping your throat as the pleasure crashes over you, leaving you breathless. Your walls pulse around him, simulating both of you in the most delicious way possible. “Fuck! Jaeyun, please cum inside me.”

The words push him over the edge. With a loud, primal moan, his body tenses beneath you, his hips jerking up as he spills inside you, the heat of his release adding an extra level of pleasure through you. The way he clings to you, the sound of your name falling from his lips, how his hands claw at your hips as if to ground him, it’s all beautiful and makes you want to cry.

For a moment, neither of you moves and the only sound in the room is your sputtered breaths and the pounding of your synced hearts. Slowly, you loosen your arms around him, the ribbon slightly tightening around him again. 

Jaeyun’s hands trail up your back, holding you close as his forehead rests against yours. His eyes flutter open, and the love and adoration in his gaze make your heart leap and stomach do cartwheels.

“You’re amazing,” he whispers, his voice hoarse but still soft enough to portray his awe. “That was so much fun.”

A giggle escapes your lips as you play with the ribbon. “You think I did okay?” 

“Perfect.” He says it so matter-of-factly that any apprehension disappears instantly. He tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear and kisses your nose. “We’re definitely doing this again.”

You pull him in for a kiss, exciting his cock once again, much to your happiness. “I’m glad you had fun, baby…” you trail off pulling back slightly, “How did you know I wanted to try that?”

Jaeyun blushes and contemplates whether to tell you the truth or not. But since he can’t keep anything from you, he decides to just be honest. He reaches for the diary he not-so-subtly hid under the bed. “I snooped”

“Sim Jaeyun!” You slap his chest and snatch the precious notebook from his grasp, inspecting it. “This is private!” Your ears turn bright red and your body shakes in slight shame. You know what you wrote in this, some of it innocent, some of it not so much, but every single word meant.

“Sorry! I couldn’t help it. It was from the year we met, I wanted to know what kind of impression I made.” He bites your earlobe suggestively, “Apparently it was a good one.”

You roll your eyes and flick through it, landing on the page decorated in ribbons, instantly heating up. If only you could go back to 2021 Y/N and tell her that her fantasy would become reality, even better than she imagined.

“Yknow, I’m surprised you took inspiration from this page and not the one with the swing…”

“What swing?” Jaeyun nabs the book back and skim-reads the pages he missed upon first glance, making you laugh loudly. 

This won’t be the end of your diary adventures. Not by a long shot.

You wonder if you can get him to consider Page 89…pegging.

_____

[nonbinoclard]

>>> TUNES TO LOSE YOUR MIND TO <<<

KEEP IN MIND: This is a living playlist! Songs may be added and removed at times to further curate the vibe I'm going for. I'll try to keep this post updated, but you can just check out the link for an up-to-date track list.

(EDIT: Song discussions are not finished! I have a lot more to say. I'll reblog when I've updated.)

This is set in a sort of nebulous time between Harry's life right before Martinaise and the night before he lost his memory. I wanted this playlist to feel erratic-- full of manic energy one second, then slow and bleak the next, dreamy, unreal, then right back to ridiculous.

(In no particular order. Shuffle for full emotional whiplash effect.)

I Don't Like My Mind - Mitski

I don't like my mind, I don't like being left alone in a room [...] And then I get sick and throw up and there's another memory that gets stuck / Inside the walls of my skull waiting for its turn to talk / And it may be a few years, but you can bet it's there, waiting still

The days before cleaning out the rooms... also, eating an entire cake and throwing it all up again feels very harry-esque... Overindulgence

A whole cake, so please don't take / Take this job from me

End Of The World - Hether

I mean, I could just post the entire set of lyrics as evidence, tbh. Struggling to find meaning and purpose in his life in the wake of heartbreak (5 year old heartbreak, but who's counting anyway)

I wake up in the morning and I wonder / Why everything's the same as it was I can't understand / No I can't understand / How life goes on the way it does

Cane Shuga - Glass Animals

Baby, don't go / I'll stop breathing coke / No more bloody nose / No more John Does Burn through my love / Just like your drugs / I've had quite enough / Or lack thereof

This is about the last moments of Harry and Dora's relationship to me. The chorus (a kind of circular, endless, self-aggrandizing internal monologue likely fueled by stimulants, implied in the song) continuing after the second verse kind of reflects the solution for Lonesome Long Way Home.

"11 Voyager Road. You no longer live there. Those times are gone, and so are those people. Why did you come here? Why are you still here? And where’s the dealer? You have to get back to work. That’s all you have now."

Hot Venom - Miniature Tigers

Hot venom is mixing with my blood / I can feel it on my fingers and taste it on her tongue / It feels so good to fall in love with you

I've heard a lot of people say this song is about heroin addiction, which is thematically appropriate for this playlist, but also. Harry's unhealthy obsession with Dora/Dolores Dei. Adoration (and hatred) so strong it's killing him.

Her venom makes me strong / Stronger than I am on my own / Before too long, I'll wake up to it gone / Wondering how I ever was happy [...] You can't go back now; that's not how this works / And as long as she's gone, I can never be happy

Who Is She ? - I Monster

This is just straight up about Harry's recurring dream to me. Just. Gestures at the lyrics.

Oh, who is she? / A misty memory / A haunting face / Is she a lost embrace? Am I in love with just a theme? / Or is Ayesha just a dream?

I feel like it falls in line really well with the idea that Harry's mind has been affected by the Pale-- a lack of memory, or maybe mixed memories, in a misty haze beyond the boundaries of reality. (and maybe Dolores Dei has started haunting him via Pale? Like some theories I've read.)

Somewhere across the sea of time / A love immortal such as mine Will come to me / Eternally

I Don't Miss You at All - FINNEAS

Dummy - Portugal. The Man

F the World - The Northern Boys

You Stupid Bitch - Crazy Ex-Girlfriend (TV Show)

These shards are a metaphor for my soul Won't stop the self-pity 'cause I'm on a roll

This song perfectly captures the inherent melodrama of a mental downward spiral imo. Catastrophic and all-encompassing. This is what I think it sounds like in there (Harry's head).

You ruined everything / You stupid bitch / You ruined everything / You stupid, stupid bitch / You're just a lying little bitch who ruins things / And wants the world to burn / Bitch / You're a stupid bitch / And lose some weight

Oleander - Mother Mother

Intermission - Scissor Sisters

Skit #2 - Kanye West

Self explanatory. He's got no money. He's got no clothes. He has no car and he has no hoes.

We broke, broke broke phi broke We ain't got it Broke, broke, broke phi broke We ain't got it Don't spend no money, ain't got no clothes Ain't got no cars, ain't got no hoes

Nobody - Mitski

My God, I'm so lonely, so I open the window To hear sounds of people, to hear sounds of people

This one is more about the feeling of the song itself rather than the lyrics specifically; I love the upbeat tempo that continues through the song (trying to remain steady, continue working), how the beat is simple at first then builds into a kaleidoscope of sound by the end of the track (overwhelmed by the world), then ending in a distorted loop (trapped in a cycle). This song has always felt really authentic to my own experience with mental spirals. The themes of loneliness tie it all into a nice bow.

I'm A Broken Heart - the bird and the bee

Not Allowed - TV Girl

Party Time - The Northern Boys

Comfortably Numb - Scissor Sisters

(Do The) Act Like You Never Met Me - TV Girl

Novocaine For The Soul - Eels

Basket Case - Green Day

Do you have the time / to listen to me whine About nothing and everything all at once? I am one of those melodramatic fools / Neurotic to the bone, no doubt about it

I just think this one fits him well during Martinaise... just shaken up and unloading trauma onto unsuspecting strangers like a can of soda (bad analogy lol), depending on the dialogue you choose.

I went to a shrink to analyze my dreams She says it's lack of sex that's bringing me down I went to a whore, she said my life's a bore So quit my whining 'cause it's bringing her down

Sometimes, I give myself the creeps / Sometimes, my mind plays tricks on me It all keeps adding up / I think I'm cracking up Am I just paranoid, or am I stoned?

Also it's just a little pathetic, which just... it fits. Sorry Harry.

Labyrinth - Miracle Musical

[catboybiologist]

I'm really fucking sorry for the disk horse again and I'm shutting off reblogs for this post, but I have to vent.

I'm really fucking scared for the upcoming US election. It is looking like a strong chance that there will be a Republican House and presidency.

The US can't take that. The WORLD can't take that. I understand frustration with the Democrats. Goddamn, I really do. But more and more their strategy now seems to be "well young votes and leftists aren't going to vote in large numbers anyways, why listen?"

And yeah, I'm thinking about Palestine. Yeah, I'm thinking of Haiti. I'm not completely self centered. The Right actively wants blood. The dems are shit. The dems will not provide a peaceful solution. But the republicans are on a different, terrifying level.

And yeah, I'm selfish. I'm also terrified for me, and the people I love. I'm terrified for my medication, both for transition, ADHD, and others, that are specifically vilified by the right. I'm terrified for my career, which is dependent on federal funding. I'm terrified for the protected lands I've learned to love. I'm terrified for indigenous peoples. I'm terrified for my immigrant friends.

If you're taking a moral stand by not voting, or not voting Democrat, that is a choice written in Palestinian blood. And Haitian blood. And whatever other country the US has fucked up, and neglected the people of. You can take that moral stand if you want to. But you need to realize the cost.

And of fucking course it doesn't stop at voting. Don't be complicit in genocide. A vote is not complicity. As that other popular post said, a vote is choosing your opponent. And there's less terrifying opponent here.

I guess this isn't really a call to action. Argue in the comments if you want, but I won't reply. I'm just scared.

[hellfire--cult]

Edit of Eddie: pitifulbaby

Chapters: Masterlist (Go here to see list of chapters, plotline and general warnings.)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Non-Traditional Omegaverse, Slow burn, Modern!AU, Mechanic!Eddie

⚠️18+: sexual tension, slight drinking, pining, smut. yes. smut. loads of it. i won't spoil it, but yes, everything. (no omegaverse)

wc: 16K

A/N: roe finished a new chapter of baring teeth and it didnt take her 6 months? lets call that progress! i hope yall enjoy this one...

Anyways, Enjoy! ❤️ And don't forget to always support me by hitting the reblog button or leave a comment!

Taglist is closed

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CHAPTER 17

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

You are dying. You are absolutely certain you are fucking dying. You were regaining consciousness and you wanted anything but that. Why be alive when you feel like this? Your stomach is messed up, your head is banging tremendously and you feel as if a bulldozer ran over your entire body.

You mustered a small whine, and you tried to stretch your limbs but everything was painful. Everything hurt and you wondered what you did to deserve to feel like this. Well, you could not have drank as much as you did the day before, so maybe you do deserve it a little for not having any self-control. 

You didn’t want to open your eyes. 

You could already feel the light burning your pupils through your eyelids. It was an orange hue, and you couldn’t manage to even open a bit of your eye. You just want to rot in bed until you actually die. What impulsed you to drink that much yesterday? And how did you even get home? How did you manage to get in bed if you knew you couldn’t stand by yourself?

You whimpered in pain as you tossed on the bed. You could smell the smoke of the club on you, probably still wearing the same clothes as yesterday. You could feel the tightness of the shirt and the elastic of the pants. You could also smell cologne, one that is quite familiar if you had to be honest. It was wooden, kind of, but it was very penetrating.

You whined this time as you received another pang on your head, the more conscious you became, the more you were aware of your headache. The more your stomach turns. The more you grew uncomfortable in every position you turned, making your distressed noises louder.

“Can you shut the fuck up?”

Now, that made the headache leave for just a second because your eyes snapped open like plates as you lay on your side. And there, looking at his profile, was Eddie, with an arm over his eyes in order to cover them. Your heart stopped completely, and then you could hear the blood rushing to your face, to your ears, even behind your eyes. 

You, where were you? Why is Eddie next to you? Why is he here? Why? Oh, god. Did you two… Oh fuck, oh no, you would remember it, wouldn’t you? You definitely would… But what if you didn’t?

You felt a cold sweat invade your body as you quickly sat up on the bed, opening your mouth to talk, but the sudden movement was a bad idea, because as soon as you did it, your stomach betrayed you. It swirled around, the nausea unbearable and soon you realized you were in Eddie’s home.

You could worry about the reason for being here later, you need to run to the bathroom, quick. You haven’t been to his room, ever, and you quickly got up from the bed, ignoring the ache that your body felt, and rushed out of the room, leaving Eddie on the bed.

He was in his own hell as well. Probably not as bad as yours, but he still felt pretty horrible. His head wasn’t the problem, it was mostly his stomach, and hearing you emptying your own on the toilet from across the hall was making it all worse. He groaned as he slowly got up from the bed, feet hitting the floor and– 

“Fuck.” Was his only response as his stomach yelled for attention. He quickly got up and rushed down the spiral steel staircase, his feet clinking and rattling it all as he rushed to the secondary bathroom below, right next to the kitchen.

You were hugging the toilet seat now, your throat burning from the intensity of the emptying of your stomach. You hated vomit. You hated to puke… But sometimes it was what your body needed, and as minutes passed and you were sure there was nothing else, you did feel slightly better. Your stomach was a bit more settled than before, not swirling as much.

You flushed the toilet, and with a groan, you got up on wobbly legs. You felt disgusting, wearing the same clothes as the night before, but you weren’t going to ask Eddie for clothes. No. What were you doing here anyways? How did you even get here?

The clothes were a clear indicator that nothing happened the night before. You can barely remember the club. The last thing you remember was the champagne you were taking, and then beer? You had flashes of dancing with Robin and Nancy, then with Steve… Why are you here with Eddie?

You looked around the bathroom, and it was dark, industrial style, just like his whole house. Black walls, or bricked, with steel and wood furniture. You walked to the sink and you almost screamed at the reflection. Your makeup was all over your face, your hair was a mess, your lips were swollen, and you’re pretty sure you had dried drool from the corner of your mouth to your ear.

You looked like a monster. You wanted to shower, you wanted to wash yourself, take everything off, and take care of the fucking headache you were suffering. You looked around and decided to open the cabinet of his mirror. You found some face lotion, and it might help with the removal of your makeup, but something else caught your attention.

A pill bottle, with Eddie’s name on it. You reached towards it, wanting to know the name of the medicine he was taking as your curiosity picked up. Your hand stopped when you heard the clinking of the stairs, signaling he was coming back up. You put a bit of lotion in your hand before putting it back inside the cabinet, closing it.

You put your hair behind your ears with the hand you had no lotion on, and then began to clean your eyes with the cream. You then rubbed it all over in rushed motions, feeling dirty all over. You turned on the water, letting it warm up as you kept rubbing the lotion into your skin. You then bent over to wash your face, rubbing your hands and taking off the cream and makeup as best as you could.

You straightened up, looked into the mirror again and rubbed underneath your bottom waterline to take the last bit of mascara off. It wasn’t completely clean, but at least it was better than before and you felt tidier. You grabbed the toothpaste and put a bit on your finger to then try to brush your teeth with it. You gurgled some water with it, making it foam in your mouth before spitting on the sink.

You wiped your mouth and you groaned as you felt the headache hit again. You looked at the door and dread came over you as you knew you had to face the owner of the house. You took a deep breath in and walked out of the bathroom and then took steps into Eddie’s room, only to find him shirtless, looking through his drawer, his back turned towards you.

Your eyes were transfixed onto the ink on his back, finally being able to see it. He had a demon, an imp, on his right shoulder and moving down, and then some kind of markings, or symbols, followed by other drawings on his other side. You couldn’t help but stare at him, your head tilted to the side as you studied him, but the panging in your head made you snap out completely. 

“Fuck…” You whimpered and that made Eddie finally turn around, tiredness in his features, his hair down. He felt his stomach turn in anticipation of seeing you after last night, wondering what conversation would be presented today.

“Morning.” You only grunted at his response as you held your head. He gave a nod as he rapidly threw a shirt over himself and then looked inside his dresser again, taking another shirt out and throwing it on the bed, as well as some pair of sweatpants on a drawer below. “Here, wear these. Yours smell like alcohol and smoke.” 

You rolled your eyes at him which only made you wince. You gave him a nod as you walked towards the clothing on the bed and he was expectantly looking at you. If you were faking you didn’t remember, you were a great actress. You were acting almost normal, but probably it was the fact you couldn’t even think. You looked horribly sick if he was being honest.

“Thanks… You have any advil? Ibuprofen? Just anything, a gun works too.” You joked with a raspy voice and he chuckled, rubbing his own head.

“Yeah, I’ll wait for you downstairs.” He left the room, going back towards the stairs to try to prepare the ibuprofen and some breakfast for the two of you. He was gonna wait until you were a little more focused, but what if you actually didn’t remember anything from yesterday night? He remembered it all. 

He remembered the way your lips felt on his, the way you were desperately eating him whole, your tongue, your taste, your scent… He remembered it all despite the haziness of the drinks. He remembered how his hands wrapped around you, gripping your body and pulling you to him. How you pressed yourself on him, moaning into his mouth and–

If he doesn’t stop thinking about it he is going to get a hard on and he won’t be able to either hide it or control himself with you here.

You looked towards the clothes on the bed, and your gut turned at the idea of wearing something of his, but the night clothes were a little too much already. The elastics were killing you and you really wanted to wear something comfortable for your headache and overall state.

You gulped as you slowly took off your clothes, wobbling a bit due to the dizziness the headache provoked. First, the top. You realized quickly that you had no bra on, the cups of the top having pads on for support. You felt heat spread on your face as you pondered on putting the shirt on or not. 

But being comfortable won over embarrassment, and you quickly put it on. A little loose, which helped with the lack of bra look. Then, you took off your pants and you felt so relieved to toss those constricting, yet really nice, pants away. You quickly put on his sweatpants, tying up the knot on the waist so they wouldn’t fall. You looked down at your bare feet and you looked around his room for the first time.

You saw pictures hanging on the wall, posters, vinyls in frames, and then a guitar. It was red, and it was certainly from the 90’s or 80’s. That must be Eddie’s most precious guitar. Then you turned towards the pictures that were on a corkboard, all pinned up. You saw him with Steve, then a picture of him with Nancy, and you smiled as you saw a picture of him in a green graduation gown, holding a diploma with his uncle next to him.

Your smile faltered a bit at seeing his uncle. He had shown you pictures of him, but never ones that were when he was completely healthy. He looked like another man. You took a deep breath in, about to look for something to wear on your feet, but then a picture caught your attention. 

It was a picture of you two. It was a picture Steve had taken while sitting in Jonathan’s bar. You were looking at eachother, drinks in hand, smiling. You felt your heart start to beat rapidly the more you looked at it because you two looked like a couple. Steve had uploaded the story on Instagram and more than one person had asked if you two were dating.

Why couldn’t they understand you two were friends?

Why can’t you understand that?

Just friends. 

You snapped out of your thoughts as you looked on the floor, seeing a pair of slippers. You put them on, giggling at the size difference, but you didn’t want to catch a cold for going barefoot on cold floors. 

You walked out of the room and headed downstairs, the clinking announcing your appearance to the man who was cooking some grilled sandwiches for the two of you. You grimaced at the smell, your stomach turning at the idea of eating something. Could you even get anything down?

“As much as I appreciate the food, I don’t think I can eat anything Munson.” You sighed as you walked towards the kitchen stools to sit at the island counter. His back was towards you, his hair up in a bun this time, much to your dismay. You shook that thought away, closing your eyes as you felt another pang of pain thanks to your headache.

He turned around and the air got knocked out of his lungs as he saw you with his clothes on. Maybe giving you something else to wear was a bad idea. It was worse than seeing you in your club clothes. Way worse. He felt heat run all over his body as he stared at you while you rubbed your temple. 

How are you able to get him riled up by just wearing his Limp Biskit shirt?

“You’re gonna eat because it will make you feel better.” He went towards his fridge to get his jar of water out, placing it on the island counter where he had already put two glasses for both of you and a pill of ibuprofen.

You immediately lunged forward, filling both glasses with water and grabbing the pill. You threw it into your mouth and chugged the entire glass in a matter of seconds, realizing how dehydrated you were. He was stunned, wide eyed, looking at your display. He already had some water and his own medicine, but he grabbed the glass either way and took a sip from it.

“Shit…” You moaned with delight at the cold liquid running down your dry throat. Eddie’s grip on his glass tightened at the sound as he quickly turned around, trying to think of anything but you. You, who was sitting in his house in his clothes and did you think that he didn’t notice you didn’t have a bra on?

He put the glass on the counter and flipped both sandwiches from the pan to the two plates he had prepared. He grabbed them and turned again to put a plate in front of you and then one for himself, sitting across. He grabbed his glass and sat down with a groan, which caught your attention.

You felt your body becoming hot as you side-eyed him. You wanted to kill him for looking so good, even with a hangover. You probably looked like a wet raccoon that was kicked multiple times out of a Chuck E. Cheese.

“So…” He started, wondering if you showed any kind of nervousness, any at all, but he didn’t see any of that, perplexing him. Just a pained face after taking the first bite of your sandwich, making him frown. “Hey, it’s not that bad.”

“It’s not, I just feel like I have a war in my stomach.” You forced yourself to eat another bite as he took a bite from his. It was silent for a second, your stomach turning in nerves as you looked at him. “How uh… How did I end up here?”

And now Eddie knew you didn’t remember shit. He couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief at the situation. You two finally crossed the line and you didn’t remember it at all. You tilted your head as an angry frown came to your eyebrows at the lack of response. He cleared his throat as he took a sip of his water and then looked at you.

“Argyle. You were too smashed to go home alone.” He stated and looked back down at his sandwich, taking another bite from it. You read his expression, noticing a certain frustration behind his tone.

“Did I… was I a burden? Did I cause trouble for you?” And he looked up at you, realizing how he came across, and shook his head, your shoulders losing the tension you didn’t know you were holding. You suddenly noticed that he had his TV on, music playing in low.

“No, you weren’t. It’s just my hangover face, Peach.” He cleared his throat as you nodded and took a bite of your sandwich, noticing the more you ate, the easier it was to gulp food down. He licked his lips as his eyes kept looking at your face. “I’m guessing you don’t remember shit from last night?”

And you rubbed your temples in embarrassment. It was all foggy. Absolutely everything. Flashes of the night coming to you, but it was just you dancing, or drinking, or grinding against Robin. 

“Not most of it, no… I drank too much. That first bucket of champagne was a mistake.” You giggled and looked up, connecting your eyes to his. He was looking at you with a serious face on, but you felt yourself sinking into the brown irises, your smile faltering as you felt those stupid butterflies in your stomach. 

There was silence between the two of you and then you heard it in the background. A song. “Pray for me” by The Weeknd started playing. 

More flashes.

Someone. You made out with someone. 

You remember the cologne.

It was the same cologne–

Your eyes widened like plates as you almost fell out of your stool, gasping as the memory became clearer the more you listened to the song. No, no, it cannot be. No, it was someone alike. Eddie only smirked as he sat back on the stool and took a slow sip of his water, realizing you had remembered.

“No… We didn’t. Right? We–”

“Made out? Yeah. Glad you could remember Peach.”

Your body froze, and your blood went cold as you sat there. You felt it draining from your body, not knowing where it was ending at, but that was the least of your problems. You started remembering it vividly.

The intensity of it, his tongue, his smell, his taste, the way he pressed himself into you, how he devoured you and you didn’t hesitate to return the favor. You slowly placed your elbows on the counter and you grabbed onto your head, running your fingers through your hair as you clenched your eyes tightly.

“Oh god…” Eddie only chuckled at your response, taking a bite out of his sandwich.

“And you were the one that came onto me. Didn’t think you’d be that bold.” He was mocking you, but the embarrassment washed over you as you remembered how you pressed your ass against him on purpose, trying to rile him up. He even warned you that you were crossing a line. 

Not only that, but you remembered that you were the one who kissed him. You were the one who made all the first moves yesterday night. All the flirting, all the innuendos. It was all you. You fucked up. You fucked it up. 

“Shut up… Goddamnit Eddie, shut up.” He grinned at your words, looking over at you as he raised his eyebrows.

“That’s the same thing you said before you kissed me–” And you slammed your hands on the counter, glaring up at him as you felt your body burning with anger, embarrassment, shame, and also arousal. You couldn’t deny how good it felt. How amazing he was. How perfectly you two molded together. 

“We’re gonna forget it happened.” That was your response, making Eddie’s smile fall completely. Were you serious? Forget it? After weeks of dancing around the line you two didn’t know if it was worth crossing? A line that was crossed already?

��Humor me. Why?” His voice was low, a bit threatening as if he was warning you to choose your words carefully. You straightened up, clearing your throat as you held your head high, showing him your word was final.

“Because… It was the alcohol. We’re friends, just that.” And oh, that made him mad. So you think you can rile him up, kiss him, give him the idea something more can happen, only to then say this? He felt played with. Even he never fell that low. He was always honest with his needs, with his wants. Girls he hooked up with and got attached, he cut them off to spare them from heartbreak. 

“Right. Friends.” He chuckled humorlessly at that, shaking his head as he looked down at his glass of water, taking a sip from it, hoping the cold drink would simmer the flames down a bit. You frowned at his response, crossing your arms over your chest.

“What is that supposed to mean?” He shook his head as he looked back at you.

“Are you always that touchy with your friends?” Your breathing stopped at his question. The air around the two of you grew tense and heavy. You felt it pushing you down onto the floor, like an elephant’s foot. He was staring at you with a piercing gaze, and you felt a shiver running down your spine as you saw how he was inspecting you.

You clenched your legs together as you moved in your stool, trying to ignore the ache that was forming between them. It was just a stupid crush, a crush that had to pass. But he couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped his lips as he stared at you, as if he had figured out something from you.��

“Maybe. I made out with Robin once.” You admitted, and honestly, you did. And Eddie knew it, he was there when it happened. A guy was not leaving Robin alone, not understanding the word no. So you did what a good friend does. Pretend you are their partner. 

“That was situational. Ours was a little different, don’t you think?” His voice was low, angry. You understood him, you truly did. You’ve been following this game of flirting with him, you are to blame for this one, but now you know that it cannot happen again. You are not satisfied with just one kiss, but nothing else can happen between you two.

You can’t lose Eddie. You are too fond of the friendship you have.

“And it won’t happen again. Like I said, I was– driven by alcohol, and you were drunk too.” You tried justifying it, and it only fueled Eddie’s irritation. He wanted to kill you right now, or rather, bend you over the counter so he could fuck your brains out until you forgot your name. Show you everything he could do to you, ruin you for everyone else.

You two were looking at eachother, the air completely charged, the sparks flying all over the place. You felt your heart beating in your throat and you saw him opening his mouth, only to then chuckle and shake his head, making you frown. 

“Right. Let’s pretend it didn’t happen.” And his gaze went back to his sandwich, finishing it in three bites. You blinked once, not expecting it. Why did you feel disappointed? He agreed with you, didn’t he? What else were you expecting? It’s not like he was gonna force you… or convince you… or punish you for what you did the night before.

You opened your mouth to talk to him again, only for a ringing to interrupt you. He looked over to his phone, answering it with one swipe. You heard Steve’s voice on the other side, making you tilt your head. You whispered to him, a frown on your eyebrows.

“Is that Steve?” Eddie shushed you with a swat of his hand, continuing to talk to his friend.

“I can’t understand shit Steve.” Again, you heard Steve on the other side, almost yelling at him. Eddie clenched his eyes as he looked up at the ceiling. “Yeah, I forgot, but I have a hangover, can you blame me?” More talking on Steve’s end as Eddie nodded. “Alright man, stop yelling at me, the ibuprofen didn’t kick in yet, and I’m a little… irritated at the moment.” A glare was sent your way and your mouth dropped in disbelief.

Why is he irritated? You were just being civil, rational, a good friend that doesn’t want to throw the friendship away for a simple fuck. Were you wrong for doing that? Were you an evil person for it? You scrunched your nose at him, anger now fueling you at his attitude and you stood up from the stool as he watched you while talking on the phone.

You walked towards the couch, seeing your shoes sitting on the side. You winced at the idea of wearing the heels again, but it was your only footwear to go home. Eddie hung up and stared at your figure as you scratched your head, not turning to look at him. He felt your irritation, as well as your nervousness, or uncertainty. He wasn’t sure. 

“I need to call a cab and go home. I just want to lay down and rot.” He wanted to go towards you and kiss you senseless again so you realized how hard it would be to forget about it. How stupid is it to even try to forget about it, like you are doing right now. Wanting to change the subject, pretending you hadn’t just remembered everything from last night.

But he understood as well. The mixed feelings of crossing a line that maybe you were afraid of doing so. He closed his eyes, coming to terms that maybe that was it. He won’t be able to taste you again, nor taste you fully. He won’t be able to know your body, to know what you like. He won’t be able to have you the way he wants to, because you value his friendship.

So, he will accept your decision.

“I’ll take you home. I have to go to Steve’s anyway.” His voice startled you, making you turn to look at him. He had to make up for his irritation from before, probably telling you some of his truth. “I get touchy when drunk too. I made out with Nancy once. Kissed Argyle on the mouth, as well as Robin. I received a punch from her though.”

You blinked at his comment, confusion and– disappointment filling your core once more. What? Wasn’t he angry before? You felt the air lose its tension, and the hotness you felt around you left, only making you yearn for it again. 

“Oh…” Is all you muttered, not knowing what else to say. He sighed, getting up from the stool, and pointing a finger at you with a serious look in his eyes.

“You though, you owe me.” You were startled by the statement, tilting your head with a squint of your eyes.

“What? Why!?” You raised your hands up in a motion of ‘What did I do?’, making him chuckle.

“Because I had to deal with your drunken ass yesterday. I couldn’t leave you alone, what if you choked on your own vomit Peach? Also, I cooked for you and saved you from a headache.” He gave a few taps to his temple and you rolled your eyes at him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Oh, so you being a good friend means I owe you?” And that comment was not liked. Neither of you liked that. You didn’t like calling him that… but he cannot be more than that. Eddie’s eyebrow twitched, but he masqueraded it with a grin on his face.

“Me being a good friend doesn't come for free.” 

And him saying it… only made you even more annoyed.

Things returned to normal after it and you didn’t like it one bit. It was your decision, it was your say. It was you the one who told him you two were just that. Friends. Friends who send eachother tik toks, memes, joke about what happened at work to both of you that day.

Just like before. Before the bantering. Before you– Before you broke up with Billy. Those first days of friendship, those first weeks and months where it was just you two having fun. Sure, you have noticed his instagram stories before, but you hadn’t paid attention to them. You never lingered more than one second on the story. Now, you lingered five… maybe ten. Maybe you even took a screenshot here and there. 

You had to stop. You had to, but as the days passed, you remember the kiss more and more. You remembered the heat of his body, the way your fingers ran through his hair, the way you wanted his leg to press in between your thighs, and how he gripped your waist and held you tight. 

It was intense and you wanted that intensity once more. You wanted to feel him again and even more. It wasn’t enough, and you told him it was, lying to him as well as yourself. You weren’t an idiot… you knew he was pissed about your decision, but he still respected it. It was just a crush. It was just that and you two had to leave it behind.

But can you?

Can you really put it behind you? How? How when you hadn’t tried him the way you wanted to? How when you touch yourself to thoughts of him? How when you still hadn’t returned his shirt and sweatpants from a week ago and you still use them to sleep?

And how can you put it behind you when the bastard looks fucking great in a goddamn short-sleeved black turtle neck, showing off his tattoos as he pours drinks for him and Steve in the kitchen of his house. 

You were standing on a corner, next to Jonathan as you two watched the people all around you. You had greeted Jeff and Gareth, Eddie’s coworkers, or well… workers since he is the boss of the shop. Then all your friends were here too but then… there were also strangers. 

“I think they’re friends from clubs? Or– I don’t know who the fuck these people are.” Jonathan comments while you take a sip of your beer, promising yourself to not drink much tonight. Who knows what you might do if you have more than what you can take?

“I have no clue… maybe it’s friends from friends from friends…” You tried to pitch in but– You couldn’t help to look at all the girls that were in his home. You heard the doorbell ring, even through the music and Eddie patted Steve’s shoulder before going to get it. He opened the door and you took a sharp inhale of breath as you saw a blonde greeting him with two other girls behind her.

Eddie smiled at them and the grip on your can tightened. You felt your stomach flipping, and you tried to push it away as best as you could. They’re just friends. Absolutely. Of course, just like you are, or Nancy or Robin. Just friends.

But you couldn’t help but wonder if he fucked one of the girls here… or a few.

You didn’t believe Eddie would be stupid enough to put girls he fucked in the same place, well, unless he planned to fuck more than one. That thought made you take a large sip of your can. You had tried to set your eyes on someone else but you couldn’t. Your eyes drifted to the same dark-haired man with tattoos showing. 

You realized you ran out of beer and saw Steve sauntering over. You excused yourself to get another can, moving through the people that laughed and drank. It wasn’t a big party, but there were many people, probably twenty, or a bit more. You reached the kitchen and opened his fridge to take a can out, only to feel another presence next to you.

“Now, don’t overdo it tonight Peach. Don’t want to take care of you again.” You closed your eyes as you felt irritation bubble inside of you, turning to look at him. His eyes scanned your face, his eyes moving down your body as you turned to put the can on the island counter behind you, opening it.

You were wearing a small simple black dress with straps, heels on your feet. It wasn’t too much, but it wasn’t casual. Your perfume was a tad stronger than other times, knowing you sprayed yourself a few more times than you usually did. He stood next to you, grunting when he realized the drink he prepared before was gone, grabbing another red cup for himself to start preparing himself another one.

“Don’t worry Munson, not planning to. It’s my second one of the night, and we have been here for two hours already.” You say as you take a sip of your can. His eyebrow raised up in question at the hint of anger behind your voice. The irritated tone you delivered that phrase with.

“Damn, if you are getting bored you can leave Peach.” He says as he rolls his eyes, pouring rum into his cup. You side glare at him, looking at all the people around you.

“Who are all of these people anyway?” You asked and he looked at you and then at the people around him.

“Friends I met, some were clients from my shop, and then it’s just friends of friends.” And that was that. Before you could even process it, the next question was out of your lips with so much venom that you didn’t even recognize it yourself.

“And I bet you fucked more than two of the women here, right?” He was shocked at your question and before he could say anything you were gone. 

And now, Eddie Munson was angry.

He was fucking pissed, and as he took the first sip of his drink, he knew you weren’t going to leave his home tonight. Not without answering the many questions he has. Why were you playing hard to get? Why tell him to be just friends and then say stuff like this? Why tell him to forget it all when you clearly didn’t want to either?

He clenched his jaw as he walked towards Leslie, an old worker at his shop before she got married. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders as he talked, a smile on his face as he did.

“And George stayed home tonight, playing with his own friends. I just needed a night out by myself you know?” She says and Eddie nods at that as Gareth chuckles, shaking his head.

“I can’t believe you are married still. I remember when you told us you didn’t believe in such things as marriage and shit.” Eddie smiled as Leslie started bantering with Gareth, but he caught something in the corner of his eye. 

You.

You were looking his way. It was a mixture of a glare and a squint as Nancy talked with Robin. You straightened up and pretended to look around you instead of him and directed your eyes back to your two friends. His jaw clenched once more as he realized what you were looking at. He wasn’t a fucking idiot, and you were pissing him off.

He had been civil, not letting the kiss ruin the friendship you two had before, just like you wanted. He had been sending you memes all week, talking about your car and even making fun of you still about how old it is. No flirty remarks like before, but now you do this. 

Why do you care if he fucked any of the girls here? Why do you have to make those kinds of comments to him? Why would you glare his way because he had his arm around another girl’s arm? Why would you tell him to forget about the kiss and stay friends and just that, and you act like this?

And you, you don’t want to be obvious, but you can’t help yourself. You are watching the girls that talk to Eddie throughout the night, see with whom he acts differently. Maybe see if seeing him flirting with someone else makes you realize that your decision was correct. That your decision of staying just friends was the good one. You know it is. You know it is for the entire group dynamic, not just the two of you.

But why do you have this sensation of regret? Of knowing you might be missing a chance? You want to shake off the feeling, the nauseous-like feeling swirling around in your stomach. Maybe it’s time to stop drinking for the night. You place the half-empty can on the small table next to the couch and see Eddie leading the girl he had his arm around up the stairs, where his room was.

Your stomach twisted and you closed your eyes because you were being dumb. You and he didn’t do anything, you just made out, nothing special. He is just a friend, you wanted this, you have to keep your word. You have to–

“You okay?” You’re startled by Robin, looking at you worriedly. You blink a few times to center yourself back to the present and turn to look at her, a fake smile spreading on your lips as you nod at her.

“Yeah, just kind of spaced out.” You try for your voice to not sound strained, as if you didn’t feel your heart hammering, pounding to come out of your chest. Suddenly, you hear the stairs again as Eddie talks to the woman who follows him. A sense of relief washes over you when it was only a minute since they went upstairs, nothing could have happened.

You shouldn’t feel relief. You shouldn’t be feeling anything at all, but all you fucking remember is that kiss.

You stayed with Steve, telling him to take you home afterwards while Robin and Nancy left a bit early, as well as Argyle. One hour later all the strangers left one by one, and not a girl in sight that stayed behind. You were pitiful. You knew it. But you couldn’t help yourself.

“Ready to go?” Jonathan asked and you nodded, walking over to the coat hanger to look for your coat, only to find that it was gone. Dread filled you as you thought someone mistakenly took it, or worse, stole it. You didn’t know more than half the people in here so–

“Peach, I left your coat upstairs in my room. It was getting a little crowded in that hanger.” His voice startled you, turning to face him. He was towering over you, a look in his eyes that you couldn’t pinpoint what it was. A smile was on his lips as he kept talking, “Plus, you are staying behind.”

You frown in confusion at that, your eyes still connected with his. You tilted your head in question as Steve grabbed his coat alongside Jonathan’s jacket.

“Why? You need help cleaning?” He asks and Eddie chuckles as he looks at his best friend.

“Yeah, and she owes me. Isn’t that right… sweetheart?” He tilted his head at your nickname and you knew that it wasn’t that. He doesn’t want to clean the mess that is his living room and kitchen. Jonathan whistles as he puts on his jacket.

“Well shit, I’m glad I’m not you.” He comments and you turn around to look at them, your face still stunned at the turn of your night. Your nerves were breaking you from the inside out. Was he going to yell at you? Break the relationship for how you acted tonight?

“You’ll take her home later on?” Steve asks and Eddie’s hand presses on your right shoulder, and you notice the slight pressure on it, more than needed.

“Sure.” Steve only gives Eddie a pointed look and you didn’t want them to leave, but you couldn’t stop them. There was no excuse to make them stay, or to wait for you since you and Eddie are on good terms. They waved at the two of you and finally walked out of the door. You felt the hand on your shoulder leave you as Eddie passed by you, grabbing the keys from the small key holder next to the door and locking it.

Your heart was running wild, feeling the hot air all around you, the pressure of it, the tension. It came right at you like a punch to the gut. His head slowly turned to face you and you could now see the fire in his eyes. Eyes you never saw before. Eyes that make your knees quiver, threatening to give out on you. 

“Ed–”

“What the fuck are you doing?” 

His voice was deep, demanding, and authoritative. You felt a shiver run down your spine, sweat starting to form throughout your body, from the tip of your fingers to your toes. His eyes were piercing you, making you bleed. His jaw was clenched tightly and you knew you had to stand your ground here, so you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Well, helping you clean, so it seems?” You tried not to make your voice sound small, but how his body language reacted made you even more nervous. His body turned to face you completely as one step was taken towards you.

“Oh, you know very damn well you’re not staying to fucking clean.” Your heart was beating rapidly as you looked at him, feeling like a small rabbit being hunted by a wolf. You managed to gulp as you stood your ground. 

“Then I don’t know what the hell you mean.” He laughed dryly, not believing your attitude right now. Better be straightforward with you before he loses his patience.

“Cut the fucking crap Peach. What the hell was that comment about the girls here? Why the fuck would you care?” You winced a bit at it, feeling ashamed and embarrassed about the outburst, but it was out of your own control.

“It was… It was just a question!” His eyes widened in disbelief for a second as he shook his head at you.

“Was it? Was it really? Because you didn’t even give me a chance to answer, so it felt more like a complaint.” He wanted to rip you apart right now. His anger and his pent-up attraction towards you were making him get way too riled up. He couldn’t believe how much you could affect him, but here he was.

“A complaint? No, it was just me wondering if there were any girls you fucked in the party, that was all.” And he only responded in a low voice.

“And so what if there were?” Your stomach flipped. He was right and you didn’t want to admit it. Not for a second. You turned around and started walking towards the stairs, needing to leave as soon as possible.

“Can’t a friend simply ask something out of curiosity?” And Eddie’s patience was about to spill out of its glass, all it needs is a few more drops. He groans, no, growls at your words as you start walking up the stairs, him following right behind, his steps louder than yours.

“A friend? A fucking friend? As far as I remember friends don’t glare at one another when they’re with someone else. As far as I fucking remember Peach, friends don’t flirt with eachother–” His voice was annoying you, your pent-up arousal towards him, your anger towards the situation, all of it was overwhelming you. “-- where the fuck are you going!?”

“Home! I’m getting the stupid coat you purposely put in your room to make me stay behind!” You reached his hallway, and you heard the quick clinking of his shoes catching up to you. You were about to turn to go into his room when suddenly you felt your shoulder being grabbed, forcing you to turn around as he slammed you against the wall, not enough to hurt you, but enough to keep you in place.

His chest was moving up and down rapidly, as much as yours was, and then, his other hand came to wrap itself around your throat, not putting any pressure on it. You were about to talk, taking a breath, but you were interrupted when his lips crashed into yours. His body pressed against you, and your breath got knocked out of your lungs.

He moved forcefully, with purpose, as his lips slotted with yours, sometimes teeth knocking by the desperation of his kiss. You were stunned still, your lips being taken by his, making them move the way he wanted them to. The hand that was on your shoulder pressed on your waist now, and the smacking of lips vibrated throughout the small hallway.

Your heart hammered in your chest, your blood rushed to your ears as you felt a hot sweat, a hot wave that ran all over your body. You flushed all over as your breathing quickened. You pressed your hands on his chest and you pushed, separating him from your lips, his hands ripping away from your body as he slammed on the other side of the narrow hallway, in front of you.

You were breathing heavily just as much as he was, staring at one another with glares, with defiance, with a challenge. You were sober, and so was he. There is no excuse this time, no playing games, no lies. He waited, knowing the cards were on your side now.

And fuck the stupid invisible line.

You went forward, hands slamming on his chest to push him into the wall as you raised up to clash your lips against his, roughly, messily, your body showing him just how much you want this, how much you have been wanting this. He groaned into the kiss, delight filling him all over as you reciprocated the kiss, the neediness, the attraction.

His hand flew towards the back of your neck, pulling you into the kiss, his tongue parting your lips and you willingly let him, needing to taste the tobacco on him, just like a week ago. You needed to feel him, completely, and you just had to promise yourself one thing. One small yet enormous thing. 

This has to be a one-time thing.

His other arm wrapped around your waist and your hands traveled north, towards a place that had been there a week before. Your nails went towards his hair, his half bun still holding his hair up. You wanted to rip it off, but you knew it would be a nuisance for him. His scruff tickled you as your tongues danced together, desperately, as if your time was running out somewhere in the universe.

You pressed your body against his, your belly coming in touch with the bulge that resides inside his pants, making you gasp in surprise. You felt your pussy throb in need like it always did whenever he looked better than usual. You felt your blood rushing to your head at the overwhelming feelings of it all, at how your skin was burning you, like a raging fire.

He groaned into your mouth as he devoured your lips, his tongue ravishing yours, fighting for dominance. Goosebumps raised on his skin as he felt your nails graze his nape, and he needed you. He needed you. He fucking needed you. He had to taste you, he had to make you scream, show you what you have been missing, what he has been missing. 

He moved, lifting you two from the wall and slamming you back to the other side, just like you were minutes before. He begrudgingly pulled away from the kiss, but instantly clashed his lips on your neck, making a moan get stuck in your throat as you felt his teeth nipping at your skin. You felt his hand desperately reaching down towards the hem of your dress, grabbing onto it and yanking it upwards and over your ass, leaving you on your thong out in the open.

Your eyes were wide at this intensity of his, but you didn’t dislike it. No, on the contrary, you were loving it. You wanted more. You wanted to feel him more. Wanted to know what else he can give you as you felt him suck on your neck, drunk on your perfume, drunk off of you.

The hand that lifted your dress went towards your ass, cupping it with his large hand, and you felt his digits digging into your skin. He moaned into your neck and then his warmth was gone as he dropped to his knees right in front of you. Your eyes snapped down towards him, your belly contracting in need, your stomach just doing overwhelming flips. 

You felt a tad self-conscious, but it was quickly wiped away when he leaned forward to press a kiss to your right thigh, his hands running from the back of it towards your calf. He kissed your knee before lifting it up so you hooked it over his left shoulder. The position familiar to you, but you couldn’t bother remembering it. Not when he was looking at your clothed center as if it were his last meal.

He bit your inner thigh gently as your scent worsened his state of arousal. His dick twitched in his pants as he raised his hands, his left one going over your thigh, and grabbed the elastic of your thong, the small strap that was on the left side of your hip. His eyes locked with yours and you knew he was asking one last time for permission, for approval.

You could back out. You could tell him to better not do anything… but where would that lead you? To feel disappointed again? To yearn for him? To want him more than before? No… You don’t want that again. You need to try him. You need to experience him, or else this crush might never go away.

So you nod as your body flushes all over, and then, a snap.

You gasp as the thong uncovers you right in front of his face, still hooked on your right leg. He was grinning as he leaned forward, kissing right at the top of your clit, on your belly. Your hands were pressed against the wall behind you, looking down at him with pleading eyes. He gave you one last look and then he dove in.

His left hand went to your ass while the other gripped your hip. His lips gave a teasing kiss to your clit, making you shiver on top of him which only urged him on. His tongue darted out next, licking a strip through your cunt, savoring your juices and he swears you were the most delicious one. 

He knew you were. It must be the pent-up anger and sexual frustration he had with you that probably makes you delectable right now. He just needed the taste, that’s all. But fuck if you weren’t delicious.

And then your eyes widened when he started licking, no, devouring you. And you raised your hand to your mouth, throwing your head back as you muffled your moans into your knuckles. You were being consumed in a way you never experienced before. You felt his tongue all over, his lips enclosed on your folds so he could run it back and forth. The noises were filthy, but he was determined to break you with his mouth.

He noticed how you were holding back your moans, making a growl vibrate in his throat, his mouth unlatching from your pussy so he could bite, a little hard, on your right inner thigh. You yelped at the feeling, your hand moving away from your mouth as you glared down at him with glossy eyes.

“Moan. Let me fucking hear you, friend.” He mocked you and your mouth fell open, stunned, ready to go at him with words, only for those to fall dead in your throat. His tongue was back on you. The tip of it flicked your clit before it went back down to your folds, and then, you felt it enter you.

You finally let a moan out of your lips, your left hand coming to grip the back of his head to hold onto something, anything at all. And the sound of your moan made him groan in need against you, wanting more, wanting to make you fall apart even further. He wanted his name on your lips, he needed you to scream for him.

He felt your warmth all over his tongue as you gripped his hair, sending jolts of electricity down his body, reaching the tip of his cock. He’s sure he is already leaking precum, knowing he is riled up to no measures. Your mouth was still open as moans left it, soft yet sharp breaths as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, leaning against the wall behind you.

You felt him licking, sucking, kissing, flicking, you just felt him all over you, leaving no place untouched. His digits dug into your skin, your legs trembling at each strike of pleasure he gave you. This was new. Completely. You felt good, way too fucking good. After these months of bland hookups, Eddie eating you out, and just doing that, made all of those burn in shame. 

“Fuck…” Was a small little word that fell from your mouth and it urged him to continue, to break you further. His fire for you made him grow impatient with the need to taste your climax, making his muscles tense, clench and unclench, just as your pussy was doing on his tongue.

He pulled away reluctantly with a pop and a slurp in his mouth, moaning softly at your taste. He was eating you but it was not enough, he needed to go deeper, harsher. He needed to brand himself into your memory, claim a small part of your brain that you won’t be able to erase. 

“Trust me.” You were panting as you looked down, about to tell him to shut up and keep going, only for a squeal of surprise to leave your mouth. His right hand was urging you to lift your other leg up, to put it over his other shoulder. Your hands pressed against the wall behind you as you grew unsure about the new position.

“Eddie, you won’t be able to–” His eyes connected with yours, a glare in them, something that told you to not defy him at this moment. You felt the need to comply with his request so you braced yourself on the wall and your eyes widened when his left hand went to hold your waist, pinning you to the wall, while his other hand hooked on the back of your left knee and hoisted it up over his right shoulder.

Then his hand joined his other around your waist, holding you up with his strength and you hooked your ankles together behind him, biting your bottom lip, afraid of falling to the floor, your fingernails digging into the wall behind you. You opened your mouth to tell him that you weren’t sure again, only for it to be silenced by him going in once more. 

He ripped a moan out of your throat as his tongue licked from your entrance to your clit, filthy sounds of his saliva and your juices mixing together, slurping, squelch, everything sounding absolutely dirty and erotic that your senses were overloading. 

He was pussy drunk, his pupils dilated as he ravished you, as he tore you apart with each lick. You couldn’t even care that he was holding you up all by himself, you were looking at the ceiling, your body already flushed, feeling as if you were burning up with a fever. You couldn’t believe you heard moans coming from him doing this to you.

He held your waist, not even feeling your weight, only caring for your taste, only caring for the taste of your impending climax, wanting you to yell his name which you have yet to do. His nose hit your clit each time his tongue dove into you, the tip of it flicking against your walls which made you mewl, your back trying to arch only for his grip to keep you stuck to the wall behind you.

Your climax started to build up, your belly burning and contracting in itself as you panted on top of him. Your senses were overloading, your rational mind was all over the place. For one, you knew you shouldn’t do this, but on the other hand, you couldn’t stop it, not even if you wanted to. You couldn’t find it in you to care anymore, at least not for now.

“Eddie, Eddie–” His name came out of your lips as you felt the coil turning and turning in your belly, everytime he flicked your clit with his tongue. At the sound of his name, he opened his eyes and he realized he won’t be able to see your face when you cum, and he won’t have that. He preferred to see you than taste you, after all, he could lick his fingers afterwards.

He pulled away from your pussy, chin glistening, a string of saliva in between his lips and your clit. You whined as you looked down at him with a pained frown. What the hell? Why? Why did he stop? He made you take your right leg off him, and the moment your heel pressed onto the ground again you felt like you were gonna tumble to the side, but he kept you up thanks to your left leg still on his shoulder.

He tapped on your leg for you to move it off him and you groaned in disdain, wanting to curse at him for stopping, for edging you the way he just did. Was he probably regretting it? Did he come to his senses maybe? You felt your heart beat rapidly as you saw him getting up from the floor, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, once you set your other foot down. 

He towers over you once more, his eyes clashing against your cloudy ones as you feel your legs about to give in on you. His pupils were dilated, the brown of his irises was gone. You gulped as you opened your mouth to say something only for his lips to clash into yours once more. 

You tasted yourself in his mouth, moaning into the kiss as his lips moved on yours. Your hands were about to move from the wall but you stopped your movements when you felt his hand rub your belly as it went further down. You jolted, making you pull away from the kiss with a gasp when his middle finger touched your sensitive clit, making the coil return to your belly once again as if it had never left.

Your gaze went downwards, looking at how he coated his fingers in your juices, a trembling sigh escaping you. You felt his other hand pressing underneath your chin with his index finger, and he made you look back up at him at the same time he teased your entrance with his fingers.

“I’m gonna watch you cum around my fingers Peach.” Your mouth fell open at his words, only for then to feel your eyes roll to the back of your head when his middle finger entered you. He groaned at the feeling of your warmth, the sensation going straight to his dick, which was now hurting from how hard it was, and the pants were too constricting on him. You were so warm, so fucking perfect, and he knew he had to prep you for what he was going to do in a matter of minutes.

You felt his fingers grab onto the sides of your chin, making you pucker your lips slightly as you looked at him again. His gaze was intense as his finger started pumping in and out of you. Your moans were breathy, hot and he could feel them in his face. He saw how a sheen of sweat was over your forehead now, and he could feel your body temperature burning as his finger picked up a pace, your legs spreading a little wider for easier access, making him chuckle. 

“Eager.” He mumbled and you whined at how he was making fun of you, only for a moan to escape you, this time throaty, his ring finger joining his middle one. Your knees started shaking as you felt him go in and out of you. You could feel the thickness of his fingers, rubbing perfectly against your walls as your fingers dug into the wall behind you, trying to keep you up.

“Fuck–” You cursed as you felt him curl his fingers inside of you and your belly started screaming and turning into itself as he hit that spongy part inside of you. He smiled as he looked down at your wrecked face, your eyes being filled with tears of pleasure as your mouth never closed. 

He immediately started a rapid and brutal pace, the squelching of your pussy with his fingers filling both of your ears. You were drenched for him and he was in love with the feeling of it. He pressed his palm over your clit, keeping the pace of his fingers and your eyes widened when you started thrashing underneath him, the pleasure becoming too much as you felt your climax threatening to destroy you.

“Cum.” And that order was low, and you felt it vibrate in the deepest part of your brain. He felt your body start shaking and he ripped his hand off your chin in order to press his entire forearm over your torso, keeping you stuck to the wall. 

Your vision went white, your pussy clenching around him like a vice, throbbing, as your climax hit you like a fucking truck. It was earth-shattering. Your hips tried to move away from him, but also against him. Your moans were all over the place, not even knowing if you were saying anything or just crying out. 

You could see his delighted smile through the fog, as he saw you squirm, helping you ride your orgasm. His pace slowed down as you slowly got some clarity back into your body. You twitched as you breathed heavily, whimpering at the sudden overstimulation. His arm left your torso, grabbing onto your waist to help you stand steady on your heels again. 

He pulled his fingers out of you, and you felt so empty all of a sudden and you let a sigh escape you as your body felt like plummeting to the floor. It was one of the biggest orgasms you had in your life, and you didn’t know he could do this. You couldn’t believe he had this power all along. Your eyes followed his fingers as he smirked at you, darting his tongue out.

“What–” He closed his eyes as he licked his fingers and then put them in his mouth, sucking on your juices, on the awaited climax and he didn’t contain the pleased moan. He felt his dick twitch at your taste. Sweet. Very sweet. Like a peach.

That action made your entire self burn up once again, the shakiness slowly stopping as he opened his eyes again to look at you. Your chest was going up and down as you caught your breath, and he tilted his head in question at you.

“What’s wrong, friend?” Your eyes widened as anger rose from deep within once again. It gave you the needed strength to pull yourself from the wall, feeling your juices running down your inner thighs, and your hand found the back of his head so you could pull him down and kiss him again, ferociously, bruisingly.

He groaned into the kiss, wrapping his arms around you as he took a step back, and guided you into his room, his foot hooking onto the edge of the door and pushing it closed with a slam. You weren’t even phased at the sound of it, you just kept kissing him as one of his hands was splayed on your back while the other was kneading your ass, fondling it. In that small walk, your broken thong fell down your leg, and naturally stepped out of it.

Your hands found purchase on his biceps, running towards his chest and then downwards to the hem of his shirt. You tugged on it, and he broke away from your lips, desperately, his breath hitting you as he ripped his shirt off his body, throwing it somewhere in the room and then slamming his mouth against yours again.

You wanted to look at him, see the body you saw on the instagram stories, the one you took a screenshot of and resides in the gallery of your phone. But you cannot stop kissing him, it’s too addictive and he feels the same with you. He was eating you whole as if he were trying to suck the soul out of your body and maybe he was. 

His hands moved towards your shoulders and he quickly put them underneath your straps, pushing them down your arms. While he did that, your hands went towards his belt, unbuckling him, but he stopped you, pulling away from the kiss. His eyes opened the same time yours did and your pupils clashed together, but before you could think, his hands pressed on your chest and you were pushed backwards, making you yelp.

Your back bounced against his soft mattress, and your breathing was quick, elaborated, and you raised yourself up on your elbows to see him intensely looking at you, ripping his belt away from him. Your mouth filled with saliva as you saw his body, the tattoos that scattered all over his chest, tummy, arms, and part of his neck and you just wanted to reach out, run your hands all over, and lick and trace each patch of ink.

He quickly unbuttoned his pants and unzipped them before pulling them down his legs with a harsh push, and when he straightened up, your eyes almost bulged out of your skull. Your eyes were trained on the bulge that was strained in his boxers as he looked down at you. 

He was huge. The biggest you’ve ever seen.

He knew his size, and he knew how this would go, just like all the times that he had sex, he knew it was going to be too much. But that wasn’t going to stop him from having you, not at all. He stepped out from his pants and boots, and he reached down towards you, his hands dipping into the top of your dress and tugging it down from your body. You helped by raising your upper body off the mattress, and then your hips as he undressed you from your last garment of clothing. 

He threw the dress to the side and unclasped your heels, and you shook them off, your eyes never leaving his bulge, your cunt throbbing at the thought of having it. He dove in again, crawling on top of you, guiding the two of you to the middle of the bed, his right knee hooking underneath the back of your left one, and he pushed it upwards, spreading your legs for him to slot himself in between them. And then, you felt him.

You threw your head back at the feeling of him against your pussy. You knew your juices were drenching the fabric of his boxers but you didn’t care and he didn’t either. The only thing the two of you could think of right now was to fuck like rabbits, fuck eachother into oblivion, fuck eachother until one of you simply passes out.

His lips found your neck as he rubbed himself against your wet cunt, finally moaning into your skin as he got some friction on his cock. He heard your moans, your arms wrapping around him and then the feel of your nails on his back, scratching as his thrusts were a little harsher. His patience was running thin as he felt a sweat all over his body. His chest felt as if it were on fire and he knew that if he didn’t have you now he was going to go crazy.

Your hips moved against his and nothing felt more delicious than this. You barely recognized yourself. This felt too good and you weren’t ashamed of your actions, of showing just how turned on you were.

But you wanted a taste first.

Your hands moved to his shoulders and you used your strength to push him away and rolled the two of you over so you would be on top of him. He bounced underneath you, a little startled at the change of position. You were looking down at him and he finally saw how much lust your eyes were holding for him, and it probably matched his.

You dipped down, and your lips kissed his neck, making him close his eyes at the feeling while your hips were rubbing against his bulge. You moaned into his skin, feeling your clit being hit just right. You sighed as you started moving downwards, your lips kissing his torso, his eyes opening to look down at you. 

No one did this for him. He didn’t mind that they never did but now he realizes what it feels to be truly desired. It felt like you were worshiping him and fuck if he didn’t love it. Your kisses found way towards his stomach, his small formed abs as you kept crawling backwards and then a bit of panic set in him as you held the hem of his boxers.

You bit your bottom lip as you pulled away, hooked your fingers and pulled those boxers down, and the moment his dick sprung out, your eyes widened at the sight. It was longer than average, thick, and you never saw anything like it before. You were awestruck, but Eddie thought otherwise.

He thought you were hesitating, wondering if you would feel pain. It was always the same for him. They would retreat slightly at the sight of it and he would promise to not go all the way, and he always kept that promise. He opened his mouth to say something, to tell you that you didn’t need to do anything, but then he felt something he hadn’t felt in a while.

You leaned down, your tongue lolling out of your mouth, and licked over his tip. He held in a whimper as he raised himself up on his elbows to watch you. You were on all fours, ass in the air as your upper body leaned down so that you could lick him, with the flat of your tongue, from base to tip. 

He shuddered at the feeling, and he could see how hypnotized you were with him, and that made his dick twitch. A smile broke on your face as your hand wrapped around it, letting the other one rest on his thigh. He then saw you let a drop of saliva fall out of your mouth and onto the tip. Your hand went upwards and you lubricated it with your saliva and then you moved it back downwards, starting to slowly stroke it.

He groaned into his throat, throwing his head back at the feeling, only for his eyes to snap open again and look back down to you. Your mouth closed on his tip, sucking on it and his mouth dropped open at how you looked. He felt his stomach turn as you took more of him into your mouth and you moaned, sending vibrations all around him.

Oh, you were fucking perfect. He hasn’t been inside you yet and you are already the best he’s ever had. Your eyes were closed as you started to slowly bob your head up and down, helping yourself with your hand to reach the rest of his cock you know you won’t be able to fit into your mouth. 

You were getting wetter as you sucked him off, his moans filling your ears as you slurped on his cock. You’ve never felt this hungry for a dick before, like, you’ve never had this intense need of tasting it before. But Eddie… Eddie you needed a taste of. It’s not even about reciprocation of him eating you out, it’s pure desire. Your own desire.

You needed to know how far you could take him, so you unwrapped your hand from around him and relaxed your throat. You breathed through your nose as you bobbed downwards, taking more than before and his eyes widened as you kept going. You almost made it, a little more than half in your throat, but then you gagged, knowing it was your limit.

He whimpered, and it was the most delightful sound you heard from him yet. Eddie Munson whimpering. You should record it. You moved upwards and your hand wrapped around him again, as you continued bobbing your head. You moaned when you started tasting the precum in your tongue, and it was tangy, a little bitter, but it was still good. 

Eddie was breathing heavily as he saw you pulling away with a ‘pop’ only for your tongue to dart out and dip the tip of it on his slit. 

“Oh, fuck me.” He threw his head back as he closed his eyes, feeling them rolling to the back of his head. You smiled with satisfaction as you kissed his tip before getting it into your mouth again and swirling your tongue all around it. His eyes snapped wide open and his hips jerked when you rubbed his frenulum with the tip of your forsaken tongue. 

You took him back in and you quickened the pace of your head bobbing and your hand. You heard yourself slurping, your saliva all over his dick, and your hand helping the movements. His belly tightened and you saw it as his hips jerked slightly when you, once more, teased his frenulum. You pulled away with a pop and smirked as you looked at him with half-lidded eyes, saliva running down your chin.

“Someone is liking this a bit too much, isn’t he?” It was time to be cocky with him and his eyebrows met in the middle, as if he were angry, and he glared at you as you looked back down on his dick. Your pussy throbbed as your smile faded from your face.

You wanted it. You needed it. Maybe it is what you have been needing all this time. Maybe this– Maybe you could finally feel full. You bit your bottom lips as you desperately tugged on the hem of his boxers to pull them all the way down. He caught on and raised his hips to help you remove them. You wiped your mouth afterwards with the back of your hand. 

You raised your head to look at him, to ask him where the condoms were but he was already stretching to the side, opening his drawer. You bit your lip as he took out a black foil condom, getting himself back in the middle of the bed. He sat up and looked at you as he ripped the foil open with his teeth. Your hands instantly flew to grab the condom from his hand before he could react. 

He closed his eyes as his jaw clenched when he felt you rolling the condom down on his cock. He needed to fuck you like… yesterday. He opened his eyes again, ready to throw you to the side so he could get on top, but his eyes expressed confusion when you threw one leg on the other side of his hip and you pressed your hands on his chest, urging him to lay back down. 

You could literally have hearts in your eyes from how cock drunk you felt, without the cock being inside you yet. You rubbed yourself along the shaft, letting your juices lubricate it. Eddie winced, loving it, but he had to warn you, he had to tell you he had to change positions.

“Sweetheart– Peach– Listen–” You glared down at him as he talked, and his eyebrows were knitted into a worried frown as your hand got in between them and you raised your hips upwards.

“You regretting this Munson?” Your voice was low, challenging, and fuck no. He would never regret any of this. Ever. His hands gripped your hips, trying to warn you not to move.

“No, fuck no Peach, but I have to warn you–” He choked in surprise when he felt his tip go inside of you, and fuck you were so warm, but he had to stay focused. He could hurt you if he didn’t. “Sweetheart– It won’t–”

“Shut up Eddie, for fuck sake–” Your hands gripped on his chest as you sank lower and lower and his eyes were wide as he saw himself disappear in you, his fingers digging into your skin as he felt you engulf him more and more, and you were reaching the area that he knows would be painful if you tried any further. He gasped out, looking back up at you.

“Shit– Shit–!” He was trying, but you were deaf to his words. He felt himself burning inside out but you, your eyes were going wide as you threw your head back. There was more and more, and it never stopped. The stretch was insane, and Eddie– Eddie wasn’t shutting up.

“Munson–!” It was your last warning before you slammed down on him.

His eyes went wide as he choked a gasp, his head thrown back onto the pillow as he felt you engulf him completely. As he felt someone taking him all for the first time. Covering that area that no other girl could ever take. He was choking on his breaths, the sensations sending vibrations and shocks all over his body. He had to check if you were okay, first and foremost. He looked back at you, his eyes still wide as he breathed heavily.

Your head was thrown back with blown eyes, and you were trying to regain your breath that was knocked out of you. You felt… you felt– Full. You were filled. Fuck, it feels good. He feels so fucking good. A shiver ran down your spine as your senses started to kick in from the initial shock. With your head thrown back, you raised your hips back up and Eddie’s gaze turned down to where the two of you were connected and then–

You slammed back down again, knocking a loud groan from him and a delighted moan from you.

Oh, how good it felt. He was so deep, so deep inside you and you needed to feel it even more. More. More. More. You were primal, and it was a new feeling that you didn’t want to stop. You were oblivious to how Eddie was feeling, not knowing that he had never bottomed out before.

So, you weren’t aware of how he was staring at you. How his eyes were wide and his chest was bright red. How he trembled every other second. And now, he saw you raise yourself up again, your hands on his chest to use as leverage before you slammed back down once more, knocking another moan out of his lips.

You were adjusting, and you rutted your hips on him, back and forth, and you moaned loudly as you felt the tip of him just abusing your g-spot in each hip thrust. He was speechless as he looked at you. You weren’t in pain, you were enjoying this. You were moaning, and he could hear the squelching your juices made against his pelvis.

Against his fucking pelvis.

You smiled with delight, and you closed your eyes as you finally let your head fall forward, and Eddie saw your contorted face of pleasure. His mouth was open in awe as he stared at you, and then you raised your hips back up and that’s when you started a slow pace. A slow, but deep pace.

His hands were gripping tightly onto your hips, and he felt his body becoming hotter and hotter, his mind becoming hazier as if something was trying to take control of him. Your pace started catching more rhythm and you started bouncing on him, choking moans out of your lips as you felt him hit the deepest parts within you.

“Fuck– Fuck– It feels so fucking good, what the fuck–” You were spouting nonsense, yet it was still the truth. You were confused, not recognizing yourself, your voice, your desperate movements, and how your mind was being rendered stupid. You never felt this, with anybody, not even with Billy.

He twitched inside of you, everytime your walls rubbed over the base of his cock made him choke. How the fuck were you able to do this? Maybe there were in fact people made for him, and you are just one of them. His pupils dilated, his breathing heavy as he started groaning through his teeth at each bounce you did on him. 

Your nails dug into his chest as you kept going and then your eyes opened to look down at him. His hips raised up from the bed and his grip on your hips tightened. You could see his jaw clenching as a vein popped out from his neck. His nose flared and you thought you were seeing an animal for a second there and then–

Your mouth fell open as he started thrusting in and out of you, wildly, keeping you in place so you wouldn’t bounce down on him. He was abusing your insides and it was so good, so fucking good. You heard the slapping of skin, the squelches, and your choked moans as you looked down at him, but you weren’t really seeing. You couldn’t focus your sight, feeling a pleasure you’ve never felt before.

He was taking and taking, letting himself go wild for the first time in his life. It was an ecstasy he never felt before, and he just felt– so feral. The moment he noticed your cockdrunk face, he knew that you weren’t in pain. He knows you are loving it just as much as he is. 

He kept going, abusing your cervix in the most amazing of ways, your g-spot being rubbed over and over. Your belly burned, your climax slowly building up, and his eyes were trained on your body as it shook from how fast he was pumping himself in and out of you. He saw you leaning down as your back arched upwards, your mouth open in a constant ‘o’ as your eyebrows met in the middle.

One of his hands shot from your hip to the back of your neck, his thrusts never stopping, not even feeling the slightest bit tired. His touch made your eyes clash with his. You couldn’t even formulate a word, just choked moans as he kept going. He growled as he pulled you down, making your face dive in the crook of his neck while his other hand moved and his whole arm wrapped around your waist.

Your eyes widened when you felt your spongy part being stimulated more than before. The bending forward, helping his cock reach it. Your nails dug into his chest as you moaned into his neck, a babbling mess, drool coming out of your mouth.

“Fuck– Baby–” He moaned your name as he gave one sharp thrust, sitting deep inside you, making you gasp, your breath knocked out as the two of you breathed heavily. Your heart was hammering in your chest, and you felt like your whole body was up in flames. You were growing tired, but you didn’t want this to end. No. Your hips instinctively moved on him, back and forth and he cursed under his breath.

Your world turned, and now you were looking at the ceiling, your chest going up and down as you tried to catch your breath. He was on top of you, his dick still deep inside of you, both his elbows on each side of your head. You looked beautiful like this, wrecked by him, drooling, tears slipping out of your eyes. Good.

He leaned down to take your lips with his, and his hips started to slowly move against you, and your arms wrapped around his shoulders as you parted your legs even farther for him. You moaned into the kiss as he rolled his hips, meditated thrusts that were smoothly deep, and all too delicious.

His tongue invaded your mouth when a moan left you, and you felt his base rubbing against your clit at each push forward. You could hardly focus on the kiss. Your mind a hazy mess, the only thought process being, ‘I need more’.

You were intoxicating, poisonous, and yet addictive. He won’t be able to get enough of you, he knows it. This won’t be enough and he hopes it won’t be either. He will make sure it won’t. He’ll make sure you will still want this afterwards. He’ll make sure you remember how he felt, what he made you feel, how he made you scream.

He pulled away from the kiss and raised his upper body up, looking down at your disheveled form. One of his hands went behind your left knee, holding your leg as he started moving a little faster than before. Your hands gripped the sheet beneath you as you stared at his form, at his eyes looking down at you. 

It felt like an out-of-body experience, for the both of you, forgetting who the two of you were, or what relationship you had before this. He does remember the amount of times, the mouth that is now crying out his name at each thrust said mean things to him, and it prompted him to slam his hips harder into you.

“Eddie–!” You choked out, your belly turning, coiling all around as your climax kept growing and growing. His harsh thrusts making you jerk upwards, the bed slightly swaying back and forth at the movement. He smirked through his breaths, the sweat on his forehead and chest glistening with the soft and bright moonlight coming through his windows.

He looked down at where the two of you were connecting over and over again and he still could not believe he was bottoming out, that all of him was being engulfed by someone, by you of all people. He groaned as he felt your walls fluttering around him and you started choking on your own moans.

He looked back at you, leaning downwards again, his arms cradling your head, his breath on your ear as his thrusts turned short and fast. Your eyes widened, your hands finding his back, nails dipping into his flesh. It was a perfect rhythm, rubbing you in all the right places, the feeling of his pubic hair creating friction on your clit. 

“You take me so well Peach… fuck– you take me so fucking well–” He moaned out with nothing but the whole truth but it was enough for your walls to start clenching as your back started to arch towards him, your belly burning, turning into itself.

“Oh– Fuck, I’m– I’m gonna–” And he let go of you so he could kneel back up, his thrusts still short and fast but he pressed his right hand on your knee, while his left one pressed on your belly. He darted his thumb out and pressed it on your clit as he pressed down with his palm as well, pushing your belly down. 

You gasped, arch arching as your hands were now gripping the pillow under your head, moans, grunts, groans, whines, whimpers and his name. His name was on your lips like a prayer, like a worship. His thumb rubbed circles as he watched intensely, his curiosity and his need for you to cum around him, for him to feel it for the first time making him go insane.

You took a sharp intake of breath as you felt yourself break, coming undone, vision seeing stars as you clenched all around him, with a death grjp. Your climax hit you once again, whimpering and squealing at the intensity of it, and Eddie… Eddie was grunting through his teeth as he felt you clench around him, around his cock, from tip to base. It felt too good. Way too fucking great. 

He didn’t want you to stop climaxing, he couldn’t. He needed it again, he needed you to keep clenching on him like this. He whimpered at the feel of you, looking down at his dick going in and out of you still, with a bit of restraint that felt incredible. Your body fell on the bed again, your walls unclenching after a few seconds and his hands moved towards your hips, his thrusts unrelenting, not letting you rest up.

“You– You’re gonna give me one more Peach.” Your eyes were watery at the overstimulation, but fuck if you didn’t want it to stop. His chest was ignited with newfound fire, his balls starting to tighten, but no, he wasn’t going to cum until he felt you around his dick again, until you cum around him once more. This new experience was just too great for him.

“I– I don’t know– Fuck– I don’t know if I can–” You mumbled, bouncing at his mercy as he kept railing into you. He only chuckled through his moans, and you could hear a low growl coming from deep within his chest. He guided your hips to meet his thrusts and your hands flew to the headboard, trying to ground yourself into a hard surface as it started slamming against the wall thanks to how hard he was thrusting into you. 

“Yeah, you fucking can. I won’t stop until you give me another.” He was demanding, ordering you to do something you didn’t know if you even could, but he did indeed not let you rest. He didn’t let you ride the orgasm out. He didn’t let you take a breather. Your G-Spot never stopped throbbing, and you could feel the coil in your belly start to alarmingly turn again. When your eyes widened as he felt your pussy flutter, he only smirked, “There she is.”

His pace quickened, sweaty skin snapping against yours, SLAP, SLAP, SLAP. It was echoing all over the room, just as loud as your moans, your cries, feeling your whole body burning up, tensing, your muscles trembling now and then as you were on the edge of falling off the cliff.

“Shit, shit, shit, Eddie– Oh god– Oh fuck–” You cried out, almost sobbing as tears of pleasure rolled down the side of your face, throwing your head back onto the pillow as your walls started clenching and unclenching around him and he moaned over you, his fingers digging into the skin of your waist now.

“Fuck yes baby, cum around my cock. I need to feel it again– Please, please–” And you cried his name out as you arched your back off the bed, and he groaned in pleasure, your name tumbling out his lips as you tightened all around his cock. This orgasm was the biggest of them all, of the last two you had. You’ve never had a multiple orgasm before, and it felt so good. 

He was breathing heavily, his chest red all over, and he clenched his teeth as if baring them. His vision went white and he clenched his eyes, tightly, relishing in the feeling of you around him. All it took was two more pumps into your tight heat and then– He came.

He grunted loudly as he shook all over, a whimper mixing in the middle of his breaths as he felt his seed shooting into the condom, spurt after spurt. This was the hardest he’d ever cum in his entire life. You whined as you felt him seething inside of you as he came, and amid your post orgasm, you could see his contorted face. A face that showed pleasure.

The last shot came, and he sighed out with trembling breaths, his heavy panting mixing with yours. He slowly opened his eyes to find you lying before him, eyes now closed as you tried to stop your legs from shaking. The overstimulation was now painful, and all you wanted was to rest. You were drained and so was he.

He groaned and you whined when he slowly pulled out from you, his eyes slightly widening at the amount of cum that was at the tip of the condom. He saw how spent you were, and he leaned down, kissing your cheek softly, his voice low, almost a whisper.

“Rest Peach, I’ll clean you up.” You mumbled something, your brain slowly shutting off, your energy gone. Your conscious mind was already squashed, can’t even think of what had just happened. 

Eddie crawled backwards, his legs trembling as he got on his own two feet, huffing as he felt them wanting to give up on him. He shook his head to center himself again, tying the condom and walking out of his room to go into his bathroom. He threw the condom in the trash and turned to look at himself in the mirror.

He was still breathing heavily, less than before, but still pretty heavy. He saw his face, flushed and then his neck and chest were red. His pupils were still dilated and he took a deep breath in to calm himself down, making numbers in his head to figure out if he missed any of his pills. But he didn’t. 

His body reacted to you in ways it never did with other girls. He’ll have to ask if it could be possible, but in the meantime… His hands went to the sink, washing them, growling when he remembered– He shook his thoughts away. He can’t think like that. He sounds possessive and he is not like that. He can’t be like that.

He brushed his teeth and washed his face. He grabbed a small towel and drenched it in warm water. He cracked his neck as he walked out of the bathroom again and entered his room, to see you in the same position, but he now knows you had fallen asleep. He walked towards you and he pressed the towel on your inner thigh, making you flinch but you didn’t wake. He cleaned you up, being extra careful when he passed over your puffed up pussy. 

He smirked in victory at the sight of it, at how much of your own climax he gathered in the towel. He flipped it inside out and with it he cleaned the drool and tears off your face. You started mumbling something as he held your face in his hand, looking down at you.

“Eddie…” You breathed out. He felt a tug somewhere in his body, but he didn’t know where. He clenched his jaw as he pulled away, putting the towel on the night table. He knew the two of you would talk the next day. He was excited about it, wondering what is going to happen between the two of you after this. 

He wrapped you in his blankets and then got into bed next to you. Your body instantly felt his, and you moved to cuddle his arm. He chuckled at you, his gaze looking up at the ceiling as he realized his energy was too spent, too drained. His eyelids started to drop, the images of you flashing behind them.

He had so many questions, but maybe there were just no answers to them. It was simply that way. But out of all the girls he’s been with… you, being the only one… He had to stop thinking about it, maybe he was just trying to look for something that had no explanation. He gulped as a smile broke on his face. One thing is for certain.

It will happen again… and again… and again. 

end of chapter 17

a/n: after 17 chapters, now that's slowburning at its finest.

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"He Belongs to You" Part 19

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I KNOW MY KIDS ARE HUNGRY LETS EAT <33333 i've been reading through previous chapters and tweaking some things (note to self: write before you're half a bottle of wine deep) lololol anyways pls send me any suggestions and pls pls reblog if you’re enjoying the series :') i'm so hyperfixated on homelander rn i won't be ending this series anytime soon!!! but if i do find a new obsession i promise i'll give y'all a killer ending hehe. love you baddies <3

Series Masterlist<3

Summary: Homelander has shown you his darkest sides. Why can't you do the same?

Warnings: violence, language, posessive behavior, trauma, SA trauma, controlling partner, yandere (lmk if i forgot something)

⁺˚⋆。°✩₊✩°。⋆˚⁺ ˚ ༘ ⁺˚⋆。°✩₊✩°。⋆˚⁺ ˚ ༘ ⁺˚⋆。°✩₊✩°。⋆˚⁺ ˚ ༘ ⁺˚⋆。

The text message echoed in your mind, looping like a broken record.

we need to talk. it’s about them. we need to talk. it’s about them.

Each repetition sent a fresh wave of unease through you, your anxiety clawing its way to the surface.

And of course, Homelander noticed. How could he not?

No matter how skilled you’d become at masking your emotions from the world, hiding them from him was nearly impossible. He caught the subtle signs—the way your fingers picked at your cuticles, the restless way you toyed with the hem of your top.

Every tell, every shift in your body language, laid bare under his unwavering gaze.

Your phone continues to vibrate against the kitchen counter.

Fuck. Can it stop?

A second time.

A third.

The sound is deafening in the silence, each buzz drilling further into your nerves.

Homelander’s gaze snaps to it, jaw tightening at the way your fingers hesitate—at the way you just stare at the screen, like it holds something you don’t want him to see.

And honestly? You don’t even know why. You have no idea what this message means. But you know how things go. You know how baggage pushes people away, how it warps the way they look at you.

And him? Homelander? He’s the last person you want to see you unravel.

So you hesitate. You stall.

Stupid girl.

As if he wouldn’t figure it out.

His expression shifts—annoyance first, then suspicion.

His blue eyes flick to yours, sharp, searching.

Reading you like a book you thought you’d kept locked shut.

He storms over to the phone, snatching it off the counter before hurling it into your hands.

"You're acting weird." His voice is tight, clipped—like he's barely holding something back.

"What?" you stammer, but you already know what’s coming.

"Unlock it."

"Homelander, I don't know who it is. I promise—"

"Now."

The word is sharp, slicing through the tension like a blade.

Your breath catches in your throat. His eyes are locked on you—unblinking, expectant. The weight of his stare alone makes your hands shake as you bring the phone closer, your fingerprint hovering over the screen before it unlocks with a soft click.

His gaze drops, scanning the message.

A slow exhale.

A pause.

Then—his eyes snap back up.

"Who the fuck is this?"

You swallow hard. "I—I don’t know."

That answer isn’t enough. You see it in the way his jaw twitches, the way his grip tightens around the phone.

His stare sharpens, cutting straight through you. "And why don't you feel like you can just tell me you got a weird fucking text message? You should be able to trust me. Unless there's something you're hiding, sweetheart?"

Your heart pounds. "I promise, I'm not hiding anything, I just... I don't want to keep involving you in my shit."

That was the wrong thing to say.

In an instant, his hand is on your face. His fingers dig into your jaw—not quite bruising, but just shy of it. A warning.

And then—he laughs. Low. Bitter. Cold.

"You still don't get it, do you?" he echoes, shaking his head. "Fucking hell."

His grip doesn’t loosen. If anything, it tightens.

"I killed them all. And I told you, I'd kill anyone else. I told you nothing you could do, nothing you could say could change the way I feel about you."

His thumb drags over your cheek, slow and deliberate, his tone twisting into something almost... desperate.

"You saw me caked in fucking blood after murdering them, and you still don't trust me. I'm trying to change for you, trying to give you all of myself."

His grip loosens just slightly—just enough for his thumb to trace over your bottom lip, his other hand falling to your waist.

"Why can't you just fucking open up?"

"It's not that I don't trust you. I do. I just..." You hesitate, swallowing hard, your throat tightening around the words. "I'll never not think of myself as damaged goods. And I know you fucking hate that. I know."

His expression darkens, but you push forward before he can stop you.

"I thought killing them would make it go away. But it’s been twelve hours and someone is already saying something else. Next thing, I’ll be plastered all over TMZ, then on CNN, forced to make a statement about my past—about something I was trying to bury. Something I've been trying to let go of for years now."

Your breath hitches, but you force yourself to keep going.

"You’re a man. You’re Homelander. You can do whatever the fuck you want. Walk through life untouched. But me?" Your voice cracks. "I’m a woman. A new member of The Seven. And now? Put rape victim on top of that—"

Before you can even finish, he moves.

In a blink, he grabs the coffee maker off the counter and hurls it across the room.

It shatters against the wall—not just breaking, but going through it, leaving a jagged hole in the drywall.

The room is dead silent, save for the sound of plastic and glass hitting the floor.

You go rigid, your heart hammering against your ribs.

Homelander's chest rises and falls, his fingers twitching at his sides, still tensed from the throw. His jaw clenches so tightly it looks like it might snap.

Then—he speaks.

"How many times do I have to tell you to stop talking about yourself that way?!"

It’s not a question.

It’s a demand.

And the way he says it—it’s not anger, not just frustration. It’s something worse. It’s hurt. A raw, aching wound buried under layers of rage.

You freeze.

He’s coming undone.

And it’s your fault.

He doesn’t even look at you as he straightens his suit. He smooths out the fabric, adjusting the cuffs of his gloves with slow, methodical movements. Composing himself. Or at least, trying to.

Rebuilding the mask. Something he's used to do doing.

Then, his voice—flat, cold, distant.

"I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to say something I'll regret."

You reach for him, fingers brushing against his arm, desperate to hold onto something—anything—but he brushes you off.

"Not now."

Those words cut sharper than any blade.

He exhales sharply, rolling his shoulders back. "Sorry about the mess. I'll have maintenance come by."

His tone is impassive, detached, like he’s discussing a minor inconvenience, not a coffee maker lodged into the fucking wall.

He’s already somewhere else—mentally, emotionally—leaving you behind before he even walks out the door.

"I have to go to the convention early. Some bullshit VIP booth."

You stare at him, trying to find him in all that cold steel, but he won’t meet your eyes.

"Please don't respond to them. Don’t say anything. And don’t hide anything else from me. It won't end well for either of us."

His head tilts slightly, blue eyes flicking to yours—a warning.

"I mean it."

And then—

In a blur of red and blue, he’s gone.

The force of his departure rattles the apartment, the loose pieces of broken plastic from the coffee maker skittering across the tile.

And for the first time since you met him—he leaves without you.

__

You're still shaken as you gather your things.

What is this feeling?

Guilt? No—disappointment.

You let him down.

The thought clings to you like a stain, sinking into your chest, suffocating. Your mommy issues claw at the back of your mind, flipping through memories like pages in a book—replaying, problem-solving, obsessing. Trying to find a way to make this right.

Trying to find a way to make yourself right.

Because that’s what it always comes back to, doesn’t it?

If you were better. Stronger. Whole.

Then this wouldn’t be happening.

You force yourself to push the morning aside, trying to believe that things will smooth over once you see him again. That this will pass.

It will, right?

It has to.

The last thing you want to do is go to this stupid fucking event—to pretend, to smile, to take photos with screaming kids and their exhausted parents, to slap on a fake fucking grin and act like everything is fine.

But this is what you signed up for.

To be a product. A face. A commodity.

With a sigh, you sling your bag over your shoulder, heading for the door.

Then—your phone rings.

Your heart stops.

For a split second, you hesitate to look.

Then, relief.

A Vought number.

Thank God.

For half a second, you thought it was them. The unknown caller.

Fuck. You need to shake this.

Can someone get you a Xanax?

You press accept.

"Hello?"

A bright, unfamiliar voice comes through the speaker.

"Hey! This is Dana! I’m the new PA. We’re here to pick you up downstairs!"

Ugh.

Too cheery. Too fresh.

You don’t even try to hide your exhaustion. "Right. Be right there."

Let’s just get this over with.

You grab your things and step out of your apartment, heading toward the waiting car.

Then—

A scream.

Sharp. Sudden.

It cuts through the city noise, coming from the alley beside Vought Tower.

Then—another shout. A struggle.

Your instincts kick in.

You round the corner, adrenaline surging, anger simmering beneath your skin—furious at yourself, at Homelander, at everything.

You almost welcome the chance to take it out on someone.

And then—you see them.

A woman, pinned against the wall.

A man gripping her wrists, his leering face close to hers, her body trembling.

Her eyes wide with fear.

"Hey!" you call, your voice sharp, commanding.

The man’s head snaps toward you.

But before you can react—

A sting in your neck.

A needle.

Your body locks up.

Your vision blurs.

Your knees buckle.

You try to speak—to scream—but the sound never comes.

And the last thing you see?

The woman stops pretending to be afraid.

She smirks.

She was never the victim.

You are.

Again.

Then—darkness.

__

Homelander stands stiffly in the VIP lounge, shoulders squared, expression unreadable.

Even though he left in a huff, even though he stormed out without you—

He’s still furious.

At you.

At himself.

He wants you to trust him. Wants you to just let go.

"Hi, sir—anything I can do for you?"

The Deep. Useless. Annoying. As always.

Homelander barely spares him a glance before snapping—

"Get the fuck away from me."

The Deep freezes. His lips part like he’s about to say something else, but he thinks better of it.

"Got it." He backs away.

Homelander exhales sharply. Checks the time.

Then checks it again.

And again.

And again.

You should be here by now.

Before he can look at his watch for the tenth time—

The doors burst open.

FBI agents flood the room.

For a moment, stunned silence.

Then, A-Train mutters, "What the fuck?"

It’s almost cute that the FBI thinks they have any authority over gods.

But Homelander plays the game. Always has.

"You can’t act above the people in power, even though you are, John." Dr. Vogelbaum’s voice lingers in his head.

One of the agents steps forward, rigid, formal.

"Boys… what’s this about?" Homelander’s voice is too calm.

"Sir, we’ve been instructed by the President to take you all to a secure location. Please follow us."

Homelander laughs under his breath. "That’s sweet. But we can handle ourselves."

The agent doesn’t flinch. "You might be able to, sir. But this threat has already taken down one of your own."

The words hit him.

Something inside him snaps to attention.

His eyes narrow.

"Who?"

The agent doesn’t answer. Just glances at the others.

Homelander’s patience frays.

"Fucking tell me—"

Sage nudges him, voice low. "Let’s just follow them."

And for some reason, he listens.

__

The door to the safe room latches shut behind them.

The space is sterile, windowless. Secure.

Homelander cracks his knuckles.

"Alright. Now tell me what the fuck is going on. And tell me now."

The lead agent steps forward, hands clasped, voice calm.

"Thank you for your patience, Homelander. Unfortunately, we have been made aware of an outside threat that has taken a member of—"

"WHICH MEMBER?"

But he already knows the answer.

His stomach twists.

His eyes scan the room.

Only one person is missing.

You.

The agent gives him a tight-lipped, awkward look—like he doesn’t want to say it outright.

Homelander doesn’t need to hear it.

He already knows.

"Yeah, I’m not going to sit here and fucking circle jerk with you idiots. I’m going to find my girlfriend."

He turns to leave.

"Sir, please—"

The agent reaches out.

Wrong move.

Homelander whirls around, fist connecting with the man’s chest.

The agent doesn’t even have time to scream before his heart is in Homelander’s hand.

The room erupts into chaos.

Agents scramble, shouting, reaching for weapons.

Homelander doesn’t give them the chance.

In a single, searing glare, his lasers cut through them all.

The stench of burnt flesh fills the room.

Blood coats his suit.

He turns to his teammates, expression blank, voice even.

"If you don’t help me find her, I’ll do the same to all of you. Try me."

The Seven stare.

Then—without hesitation—

They follow.

__

Your head pounds.

Your limbs feel heavy.

The air is cold. Damp. Rotten.

You’re sitting. Chained.

A soft creak from the corner.

A masked figure steps forward.

Their voice, smooth. Mocking.

"You could’ve replied to my text faster, at least."

They tilt their head.

"I told you we needed to talk."

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tag list: @raginginkedslut @helreyy @lilyalone @naty-1001 @emily048

[doberbutts]

hello! I'm the one that sent you that ask a week or so ago. Sorry I didn't check to see if you'd answered for a while because I was just so upset and had to take a second. I will say I scrolled through a bunch of helpful posts you reblogged before I even found the ask again that helped a LOT.

Two things I thought you might want to know is that it wasn't speculation that you'd blocked the weirdo blog that sent me your way: they literally have "proudly blocked by doberbutts" in their bio which was why i felt safe coming to you lmao. Second is I guess my struggle with this issue was an overall struggle with how bad wider misogyny has gotten in general and how muddied it's gotten with the "male loneliness crisis" and like, centering men's issues under patriarchy and just how insanely upset it's been making me. Seeing cis MRAs identify with trans men freaked me out because like, yeah it's important to talk about how (cis) men suffer under patriarchy but it's just so rare for me to find men do that without devolving into misogyny, and I start to feel so helpless because I know validating these issues matter but women are being literally dehumanized openly. I do play oppression olympics with this specific issue and just of COURSE women suffer more under patriarchy, but the same men who demand space to air how they suffer won't acknowledge that truth. (sorry for soapboxing; some of them do! It's just...things are so bad for women rn lol it's really hard to have compassion when it feels like none is being given to me).

So the more I see this issue the more I think people are being affected by larger misogyny like I am, but are doing the typical thing that happens where you lash out at a group you can "reach." Policing and harassing trans men's behaviours is way easier than cis men. I've also been seeing some parallels between this discourse and the "gay men vs lesbian women" discourse. It's not really a one-to-one but the discussion of the role of misogyny re homophobia towards gay men who still have male privilege but, come on, if they have feminine affectation it's Different and the back and forth that used to happen when gay men and lesbian women did oppression olympics, it just feels similar.

idk as i type this I hope I don't come across disingenuous or like, my Too Casual Overly Respectful tone is trying to subtly incept you. I worry my vibes are too "women first" but I just can't help it misogyny really is ruining my life 😭. Anyways I'm very grateful for your perspective and your blog. I feel more settled and equipped to push back against anti transmasculine behaviour with rhetoric that can actually challenge people

To respond to each point in turn:

1: Again I still don't really know who that is, though I am somewhat bemused by the idea that someone I clearly don't really remember is still so obsessed with me that they're proud I've blocked them. For the record, my block list is as follows: people who send anonymous hate, people who continue to harass me after I've told them to stop, people I catch with posts containing inexcusable bigotry, obvious trolls, self-identified zoophiles and MAPs, and people who repeatedly send me fundraisers after I have already said I only share fundraisers from people I know and trust. Being on my block list is, um, not really good company, so it's kind of funny to me that someone is proud to be there. Yeah I'm sure they'll fit right in with the neo-nazis and dogfuckers and cyber bullies. Oh and I guess my ex but I only blocked them after they started harassing me about our failed relationship years later. Enjoy block hell I suppose.

2: I'm not really here to play who has it worse, not because I don't recognize the wider understanding of privilege vs oppression but because I think it is a self-defeating thread of thought because you will always find a "more oppressed" example, and I think that people should be allowed to talk about their hurts regardless of their status of "more oppressed" vs "less oppressed". Talking about the ways society has hurt them is not what makes MRAs dangerous. What makes them dangerous is who they blame, how they go about fixing their problem, and the solutions to their problems they come up with.

To be quite frank, the majority of MRAs are men who have experienced some form of social rejection or isolation. Most have been sold some patriarchal lie about how by being men they inherently deserve good sex with hot women on demand, a wife at home to keep barefoot and pregnant, a high paying job where they are respected and valued regardless of the effort they themselves put into it, and all the luxuries that lifestyle can afford. This is a fantasy, you and I both know it. And when these men realize the hard reality that we live in an age of extreme social isolation, that in order to have a partner you need to actually have more personality than a used dishrag and with only half the mess at max, that good sex is about give and take and not just yourself, that these high paying jobs are few and far between with most takers being born into some level of wealth rather than any merit they themselves have earned... they lash out.

It does not at all help things to understand that many of these MRAs are themselves marginalized in some way, but their framework not only doesn't let them see it but also advocates a harsh rejection of anyone who is self-aware enough to realize it. A lot of these guys are undiagnosed, have trauma, and are just as affected by the systems of racism, classism, homo- and trans-phobia, xenophobia, sexism, and ableism as the rest of us.

Quite frankly, I'd rather these dudes see a group of (trans) men fighting for our place in society by joining hands with other activists with more feminist, black-friendly, disabled-friendly, gay- and trans-friendly in an attempt to lift everyone out of the pit rather than continuing to fight over scraps... than to see them continue to blame women and Jews and then go shoot up a school or a mall about it. One of these helps. The other just kills people and excuses rape. There's a lot of value in deradicalizing people by offering them a path to resolving their pain that is perhaps less destructive and more constructive.

This is also why the constant comparison to MRAs annoys me. MRAs kill people in senseless acts of terror and despair because they're upset that they're not having the sex fantasy the patriarchy sold them. Trans men talking about our oppression- regardless of the word we use to express it- are mostly talking amongst ourselves about suicide and rape statistics and sharing ways to get hormones and surgery despite unwilling doctors and insurance companies. We're talking about how our social groups rejected us the moment we came out, or how people use us being men against us in ways that was not happening before we came out or passed. These are not at all equivalent conversations.

3: Again I ask you- I see people using both cis and trans feminist frameworks to hurt other people. Where is your concern for that? I am equally concerned about TERFs as I am about MRAs, as they have driven multiple transgender people and our allies to suicide and even have committed acts of violence against people irl as a result of their ideology. Most TERFs will also be the first ones to tell you that they have been hurt, deeply, by men and that they also are frequently undiagnosed or untreated, traumatized, and affected by the same systems of oppression. Does their existence and their determination to latch onto every feminist conversation including those of people who are staunchly against them then poison all feminism to you? If not, then why make that distinction for trans men and MRAs?

I am black. I am Indigenous. I am transgender. I am gay. I am disabled. I am poor. I suffer. People hurt me. I see every day how bad things are. Do you think I cannot see it, or that my ignorance is the reason for my request for compassion? Perhaps consider that it is rather my knowledge and my lived experience that fuel my call for compassion, instead. I never said it would be easy. But I do think it would make a better world.

4: I do actually agree that it is very similar to the gay man vs lesbian conversation and have said for a while that it's the same queer infighting discussion we've already hashed out for the last 50 or so years, but the target groups just swapped out. It's just butchphobia, it's just biphobia, it's just aphobia, it's just panphobia, it's just nbphobia- it's the same fucking shit over and over and over again. It was shit infighting before and it's shit infighting now. Privilege is a conversation that depends so heavily on context, and the way it has been bastardized by the internet's poor understanding of political frameworks developed by women of color and their allies into cute soundbites and phrases rather than a deep, nuanced knowledge will never fail to annoy me.

Do gay men have privilege over lesbians? As a class, sure, they would have male privilege. But what do we mean by male privilege? The privilege to not worry about being assaulted on the street? To walk home late at night unbothered? To marry who they want, to have the romantic partner they desire, to feel safe within a domestic partnership? You and I both know that doesn't quite match up to the lived experience of gay men worldwide or even here in the "gay paradise" US. How does this interact with other marginalizations? Does a black gay man have privilege over a white lesbian? What happens if he's a drag queen dressed up for an event and she's a butch that passes for cis male? Does that change retroactively if this "gay man" figures out she's actually a transbian 5 years later, and the lesbian is a TERF? I'm not saying this breaks the framework of male privilege- I am saying that sometimes the theory doesn't match the reality, and a nuanced and intersectional understanding is required when talking on an individual scope rather than class politics.

Additionally- as a side note- it is also incredibly annoying to watch people act like privilege = oppressor = dangerous, and oppressed = victim = safe. Privilege, and whether or not you have any, is not a moral indicator nor is it an indicator of the safety of the person you're interacting with. I have privilege over people who cannot walk, because I can. I am not objectively or systemically oppressing people who cannot walk by the use of my legs in my day-to-day life. Oppression is action- if I vote for policies and politicians that removes ramps and safety regulations and provisions to assist wheelchair users? Now I am oppressing people who cannot walk. If I block or move or interfere with the disability aids, if I mock people or assault or harm them, if I dump them out of their mobility aids or break them, that is oppression. The act of climbing the 3 stairs on my front porch to get into my house is a privilege, but the oppression stems from the people who built my house to even have stairs on both exits.

5: lastly to end a very long post, I don't actually think there's any harm in centering yourself when discussing things that objectively affect you, as long as you remember to include others who are affected and let them have their floor to also center themselves when they need to speak up. I am a black trans man. My politics are pretty centered on black feminism. I don't think that is objectively a bad thing. I prefer to let the demographics with similar problems speak for themselves- I would rather my trans fem friends get the mic when they open their mouths, my lesbian friends, my Jewish friends, my latino and asian and arab friends. I don't think there's anything wrong with them centering their own problems and outlooks, as long as they recognize that there's shared space to be had with others who feel similar hurts. I think it's pretty normal to center yourself. I think the difficult thing is knowing when to relinquish the megaphone to someone who's been dying to use it, while you yourself still have so much to say.

[whaleofatjme1920]

Task Force 141 with a Small/Flat Chested Reader

[Task Force 141 x F!Reader]

[Warnings: I mean, I talk about tits what more can you expect? It's pretty NSFW, so MINORS GET OUT.]

[AN: iykyk, yk? Anyways. Love the IBTC just bc I think that's cute and I'm in a mood to show this community love <3]

Reblogs are appreciated!

Captain John Price

I think he has a slight size kink, not too big but small tits play into it. Yes ofc he loves all tits but small tits just look so lovely to him. If you wear any bras or whatever, he's staring for the outline. The same thing if you don't wear anything, he might catch a glimpse of your nipples poking through and he likes that. Won't outright say it though.

Loves whenever you wear low necklines, like v necks, scoops, things that show off your chest.

If you wear long necklaces that dip in between? ohohoh. He can't help but stare and whisper the dirtiest things in your ear.

I think he really liked to hug you from behind and playfully rub his hands upwards from your stomach to your chest.

Isn't it cute how his whole hand can envelop them? He really likes to grope you. Especially laying in bed and he spoons you, hands come up? Boom, gotta grab the titty.

Absolutely feral over them. Any insecurities get washed away by how much he wants to touch you and how he compliments you.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

I feel like he's a huge thigh guy but your tits are pretty hot to him. Thinks they're super elegant with the way they fit in certain clothes.

He stares. He cannot stop staring. He's feel his face heat whenever you catch him and he covers it in the dorkiest ways possible.

Idk I feel like he's really,,,, silly? With the way he loves your tits. Can't really explain it but just know he's kinda silly.

I think he loves to rest his head on your chest and take naps. But he'll also start kissing just to get you flustered.

He gets pretty sad if you get sad or feel any self doubt over your tits. He really loves how they fit you and how they look once clothes come off.

He has a special love for whenever you wear cute bras or bralettes, whatever makes you happiest I guarantee he's in love with.

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

He's super immature about the way he loves your tits. Like, wolf whistles whenever you wear something a little more revealing, makes raunchy comments, it's gotta make you bashful because he thinks that's cute.

Love love loves to suck on your nipples. Like, I don't know he strikes me as a strong titty guy and small tits make him feral.

He'll bite gently because his bitemarks on your tits make him blush. Big on squeezing and generally worshipping that part of your body. And like Gaz, he just LOVES to stare.

Though I think he doesn't actually like the long necklaces? And it's not that he doesn't like that but rather he thinks they detract from your chest just a bit.

He's the world's best hype man. Feeling insecure? Societal standards telling you that you need more? No worries, he's gonna squash all of that in a heartbeat.

You ever see that one vine that was like, 'take them titties out bc I'm trying to see them?' He's,,, the embodiment of that. Good luck ever wearing a shirt for more than a few hours around him when you're relaxing together at home.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

yeah idk about you guys but I think Ghost has HUGE size kink. And to be fair, he kinda looms over everyone but your small tits really put his size kink into high gear.

He's always going to be cupping, rubbing and sucking your tits or at least dreaming about the moment he can again. Loves having you underneath him so he can watch your chest rise and fall, see every part of you but focus on your nipples especially.

He likes how you look in outfits as well, they accentuate your body and make you look gorgeous to him. Also a big fan of necklines that go low. But he also enjoys knowing he's the only man who can touch you there.

Loves when you lay on top of him to cuddle. Something about your chests pressed together is intimate and romantic to him? He wouldn't call it romantic, more like relaxing. He likes physical touch but it takes a while to get there.

Thinks aesthetically, that you're gorgeous. I think he sketches in his spare time, I can't actually remember if that was,,, confirmed or not? maybe I'm hallucinating but he sketches in his spare time and he's drawn your chest before.

He thinks you're beautiful. No part of you needs to change or bend to societal pressures. Insecurity tends to melt away when you're with him because he just... gets you. Knows what to say and how to say it in such a way that it's comforting and sweet.

[damnfandomproblems]

Fandom Problem #9408:

You know, I've been on tumblr since the late 2000s, and I'm very sad at how uncomfortable it is to follow fandom blogs, writing blogs, and other blogs now, with a blog I only use to post the occasional fic or gifset on (ergo, I almost never reblog things).

Before, this wasn't a big deal. But since last year or so, since the whole "movement" to educate twitter refugees about reblogging, it's made me feel more self-conscious because of how rabid people become if you like things but never reblog. They don't stop to check the state of your blog, or how long you've been here. Who has the time for that, really? All they do is have an aneurysm about it if they see your url pop up a few times and it's always just "likes". No thank you.

I hate how paranoid about following, and interacting with, any new blogs I've become because of this. Not paranoid as in exhausting myself with worry, but just having to even think twice in general about whether someone seems like they won't tear you a new asshole if you dare only follow to like. Even though you're simply not set up to reblog, and you don't even have many followers (let alone popular blogs) to see the reblogs anyways.

No, I do not have another blog I can use to reblog a bunch of stuff at this time. I gave up on that, and severely pared down, when a dumbass anti harassed me because they saw I preferred a het ship over their favorite gay ship. No more indiscriminate posting. Way better for my time and mental health.

I'm not the only person in the "seldom reblog" boat. Resource blogs, artist blogs, a lot of people are happy to like posts to show their support but have very limited blog content of their own and thus, will not reblog.

It feels like tumblr and a lot of fandom is straight-up cannibalizing itself by imposing such insane rules on people. Educating is one thing. But harassing and calling out people who already know the drill, thanks, is another.

[blushft]

Gordon Freemind Isn't a Total Piece of Shit – Here's Why!

[THIS POST HAS 2 PARTS DUE TO TUMBLR'S VIDEO LIMIT. DO NOT REBLOG WITHOUT THE ADDITION.]

I bet you’re wondering why I called you here today! Or maybe not, because it says it in the title. And I didn’t call you here, you’re just reading my post. AND! I would advise you continue to do so, lest you fail to dismantle Gordon’s facade!

Getting to the point, many of us have seen fan content for all sorts of characters that fall outside of what we’d consider to be accurate. Doubly so for nuanced characters, or characters that are unreliable narrators. Unfortunately, this exposes Gordon to quite a bit of that misinterpretation.

Gordon behaves in an egotistical and self-interested manner. We all know this! Though some use this fact as leeway to imply that he’s a violent person, or somehow takes some form of enjoyment in the killing he has to do.

In canon, we see him express distaste for killing, and not all killing is indiscriminate. At times he even tries to help people! Despite the circumstances, he does make efforts to maintain some semblance of a moral code.

Hold the jeers! I hear you, I hear you. “Ian Riley, you’re insane! Gordon sucks, through and through! You can’t prove anything!”

Well that’s where you’re wrong, strawman I have inserted in the post for comedic effect! I have proof.

(Note: This is not a comprehensive list! These are things my friend, @adrian-sheppy, or myself remember/have made notes of in the past. There are likely many more circumstances in which Gordon is ‘nice’. So without further ado, the evidence.)

01 - BECAUSE I WON'T!

Starting off, we have Gordon running extremely late, so much so that he’s worried he’ll be fired. Yet he realizes the guard is having trouble with his computer and stops to try and help fix it. He’s not even sure that he isn’t fired yet – he says “maybe [he’s] not fired.” Who knows, helping them out could push him into fire-ably late territory, and yet he stops anyway! Is he being kind or humble about it? No, of course not, he isn’t a humble person. 

But on paper, what he’s doing is trying to help someone out at virtually no benefit to himself (other than looking smart, though that isn’t exactly a tangible reward). Even when he messes up, he only gets mad when they tell him off specifically for “trying to get [him] in trouble.” Gordon was trying to be nice, but his effort didn’t come across, which pissed him off. He doesn’t know how to react well to rejection.

02 - YOUR OTHER HAND!

Another example of Gordon trying to help someone. A moment ago he was prodding this scientist for answers about a dead guard, implying that he had somehow killed him. But upon the catwalk collapsing, he offers a hand to try and help him up. To Gordon, the scientist very well could’ve killed that guard, and yet he still tries to pull the scientist to safety. 

He didn’t have to do this. He could’ve walked away after realizing that the trams aren’t a way out, and brushed the death off as the scientist probably being a murderer anyway. And yet he was willing to help pull the guy back to safety – something he’s under no obligation to do. And assuming he actually suspects the scientist of murder, it would pose a threat to Gordon to save him! Yet his first instinct is to offer a helping hand.

03 - SORRY! DIDN'T MEAN TO KILL YOU!

The people falling in the elevator are some of the first people Gordon kills. This wasn’t intentional, obviously. He’s never killed someone before this, and definitely isn’t thrilled about it. He questions what he should do about it, even though they’re dead, and logically he can just move on without needing to “do” anything.

You can’t soundly make the argument that Gordon would knowingly kill people without reason. He feels bad about this. Bad enough to say sorry to a pile of corpses, and bad enough to try and justify their deaths to himself. Hoping that at least if they sucked, their deaths wouldn’t be such a bad thing! He doesn’t like this. Killing people was never something he actually wanted to do.

(Note: The following episode opens with Gordon saying that he’s always wanted to kill people by pressing a button. He says it’s not what he was hoping for, and guesses that maybe it’s because he committed manslaughter and not murder. Gordon makes many hyperbolic statements throughout the series, and much of the “violent intent” he’s given are idle fantasies borne of frustration. He is not actually going to make a button to kill people. It’s a joke.)

04 - BIG BIG DIFFERENCE!

In this one, Gordon is expressing concern for someone he’s just met. This scientist helped him through a few doors, but before this they’d never spoken. This isn’t someone he knows, just someone who’s helping him out. This is their last interaction, and neither of them see each other after this. They don’t intend to. The extent of help he can provide only reaches this far, meaning his welfare is the least of Gordon’s tangible problems. If he dies, it doesn’t affect Gordon at all.

And still, Gordon expresses concern, urging him to take care of himself. After this he does speak semi-harshly about him, saying it’s ironic that the one helpful guy is gonna get himself killed. He can’t do anything more for Gordon, but he’s still upset that the man is continuing to walk on his injured leg. He doesn’t want him to die.

05 - >_<

This one is damning evidence. What kind of stone-cold killer profusely apologizes for simply scaring someone? Gordon shot the gun next to the scientist by accident, who freaked out because of the perceived attempt on his life. And yet Gordon apologizes several times in succession, seeming genuinely upset that he’d scared someone like that.

Why would someone who enjoys killing be so upset by accidentally firing at someone and just scaring them? Why would that person then anxiously apologize for freaking the guy out? Because Gordon isn't that kind of person. He isn’t enjoying this. He’s sorry!

06 - BACKGROUND CHECK

This one gives more great groundwork for Gordon’s characterization, showing some of the cracks in his unreliable narration. The only thing on his criminal record is an acquittal for petty theft. Accused of shoplifting once. I find this one delightful. On paper he’s just a nerd. A complete dork. He talks big shit, but has absolutely nothing to show for it. He acts like someone to be feared – someone tougher than you. 

But he isn’t! He’s a nerdy guy with low empathy and a penchant for edgy sarcasm. He just wants to do physics work in peace. He’s not their guy.

07 - I'LL GO EASY ON YOU

Again, we have Gordon showing kindness to someone! This guy was trying to be helpful prior to this clip, pointing to safety and offering him supplies – though he doesn’t have much. Gordon gets mad at him because he really only has bullets to offer, and he wanted drugs. He starts complaining to the guy and getting rude, but gets closer and determines that he’s probably having a bad trip.

Upon the determination, Gordon lays off, saying he’ll go easy on him. A moment ago he was getting frustrated, but after realizing that the guy is having a tough time, backs off. Being mean to someone during a bad trip isn’t going to hurt them in any meaningful way, but he still decides against it. This man’s welfare, again, has zero bearing on Gordon and his life, but he decided to be nice regardless. He’s not trying to hurt people – not even emotionally!

08 - C'MON GORDON!

Here we see Gordon admitting that he would feel bad about the soldiers he’s killed if his life wasn’t constantly on the line. This is just something he has to do to survive. He can’t make compromises or spare anyone when they’re all trying to kill him! He’d like to have the luxury of morality, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t feel good about killing people, it’s just him finding it difficult to be upset about it. It’s not violent behavior, it’s desensitization.

This piece is also a nice look into his domestic behavior. There’s the implication that he would go easier on someone who he keeps beating in a game – similar to how he went easier on the man having a bad trip in the previous example! Again, dismantling the “super cool” facade he tries to wrap himself in. He most certainly doesn’t want to kill people, and even reveals that he’d show a degree of kindness to others in an everyday setting.

09 - THE LEARNING PROCESS

This is an interesting one! Gordon has had absolutely zero positive experiences with aliens. Not one. Every other vortigaunt he’s met, he’s had to kill in self-defense. And yet he didn’t shoot this one because it didn’t do anything to hurt him. The smart decision in this case – or, the one that gives him the best odds of survival – would’ve been to open fire the moment he saw them.

In Freeman’s Mind 2, he remarks that he’s glad humanity “domesticated” the vortigaunts. At this point he still isn’t aware that vortigaunts are sentient beings, but expresses no desire for them to get hurt/die. He just wants them to stop hurting him. He sees them as separate from humans, lesser, and yet he shows mercy.

10 - ETHICAL DILEMMA THEATER

Ah yes, ethical dilemma theater! One of my favorites. Every single marine that Gordon’s come across has open fired without a second thought, or expressed clear intent to hurt him. He’s encountered quite a few by now, too. He has absolutely no reason to believe that they won’t immediately try to kill him upon realizing he’s there. But they haven’t shot at him yet. To Gordon’s knowledge these two haven’t hurt anyone. So do they deserve to die?

In most other Mind Series, the protagonist’s view on the marines shifts immediately upon realizing that they’re hostile. The killing from that point on becomes indiscriminate. Anyone else in this situation would fire immediately. But Gordon can’t bring himself to fire. They’re not hurting anyone. They haven’t done anything yet and haven’t expressed clear intent to do him harm. These are easily justified deaths to anyone else in this situation. But not Gordon. As far as he’s aware, they’re innocent. He can’t logically justify killing them.

(Note: I think the contrast between Gordon and the others is really interesting. Stark especially. Stark makes it his goal to save as many people as he can. He thinks it’s his fault, so he has to do something about it. At first he tries to talk some marines down from violence, but upon realizing they’re trying to kill him, shows little mercy. Gordon’s been shot at more at this point vs. when Stark realizes he’s a target, yet he still has this internal conflict, because they haven’t done anything wrong.)

[jonathan-cranes-mistress-of-fear]

First off, I’d like to thank you for your effort in making your platform so positive and accepting! You’re one of the few people who don’t go absolutely crazy mad about stuff like canon x oc, which having experienced doing stuff like that myself, gives me a lot of closure. A lot of people get aggressive when it comes to shipping, so it’s nice. I hope you know a lot of people are grateful for it.

That being said, are there types of ships that you don’t accept? Like stuff that genuinely makes you feel “EUGGHHH WHAT THE HELL?” Got kinda curious.

For me, I hate anything that resembles that of Sparity from MLP. If you know, you know.

Anyway I hope you are blessed with good dreams and a day full of smiles!

Hello and thank you for the kind message! I especially try to be kind to shipping because for many, it can be a way to cope with trauma. and I don't know anyone who has NEVER self shipped. Maybe we did as a kid, or maybe we have a secret self ship blog, It's something everyone has done in fandom.

And honestly, there's very little ship wise that I can't at least find one facet fascinating or interesting. Sure, I don't really do nsfw stuff but I can applaud someone who can write it accurately.

This is probably a controversial opinion, but when we start canceling or berating a certain ship for being "problematic" we start in on a slippery slope. There is absolutely dark shit out there, but I believe in your RIGHT to write it. Where do we draw the line anyway, noncon or dubcon? Abuse? Lolita? Once you put a line in the sand, you'll look for ways to pull back the line more and more. Until nothing is allowed but the most sanitized christian bullshit. (used as example)

I don't talk politics here at all, but I can see it happening today with trans issues, especially in the UK. You think they won't come for the general gay population next? The moment you mark someone has problematic and attacking others for making fictional works that likely have no real world implications, you're on the wrong side.

okay okay, I know I'm on a big tangent here. I know what I don't like, and what I won't reblog. but I will not be coming into your inbox and telling you to stop.

I hesitate to use the phrase, but as a "fandom elder" I've seen this shit come and go in cycles. And it's getting worse. The whole concept of purity is bullshit. Remember, block button is your friend. You are the only one who curates your internet experience.

[maripoorsa]

Hi! Happy trans day visibility!

I wanna highlight my own gf today!

I've been with her through her transition and have had the absolute privilege to watch her blossom and thrive into the person she's become today. Watching her lose her anger streak, gain self confidence, self esteem, and finally begin to love herself and be happy is all I've ever wanted for her and its everything she deserves.

I've had the best time watching her grow, buying her makeup, purses, clothes, and fancy perfumes that I know she'd feel good in. Watching her try on things that seemed scary just to find that she looks good and get some gender euphoria? Amazing. I'd do it all over again. Just look at her!! She's glowing! (A but high too but that's okay).

Like many trans women she's been homeless and done sw and as a trans woman of color she's faced just about every kind of ignorance and form of transmisogyny possible including being banned from local queer spaces for speaking up against racism.

But she has an apartment now, a better car, and slowly but surely she's taking the steps to build her own little community. She goes to open mic nights full femme now and she wears skirts and and she won't stop talking about how amazing she feels after being on HRT for so many years now after being too scared to start. She has people who love her and would do anything for her. And she's recently got back into skating, too!

And now that she's more comfortable with herself she's really started doing an amazing job of accepting her role as a step mom, too

And I love her so, so much.

She deserves everything.

I can not put into words how happy I am that she's in my life and that I've been able to see her like this. I mean sure it's not all sunshine and rainbows, but god things are so much better and easier to deal with when you finally feel comfortable in your skin.

And! She's got a consult for top surgery coming up soon! She made the appointment for it this month! Isn't that exciting! And it'll be in June, pride month, how perfect is that!

I hope and pray every single trans girl and closeted woman reading this knows how loved and valued you are, how happy you can be.

Its never too late.

All that said...

This tdov, please, please reblog this and help me raise $300 for a treatment she'll need done. She has stable work but im disabled so we scrape by, expenses like this are not doable for us but she needs this.

I have a small blog and so I'm hoping if I make the post on tdov and in the tags it'll help her be more, well, visible.

Trans women deserve material help as much as they deserve any other support and they need more than others so I'm hoping yall will help her out today.

So please reblog this along with any other posts for help made by trans people today.

Anyway.

Thank you so much for reading this.

Happy trans day of visibility. May you see many, many more.

Cashapp: $CEOofANTIFA

Paypal: click here

Venmo: CEOofANTIFA

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Found my way back to you

A/N: Something for our CACW broken and sad boi Tony? Written for @fandom-free-bingo Here ya go. Special mention to @nicoline1998enilocin for proofreading, love you girl 💛 Leave a heart, comment or reblog if you enjoyed the story.

Pairing: Tony Stark x Avenger! F! Reader (our reader has Falcon-like abilities and Red Wing as well)

Warnings: Angst, hurt comfort.

Word count: 4.3k ish

Square filled: “Please don’t go.”

Fandom Free Bingo Masterlist

.

“Please don’t go.”

You weren’t sure you heard it at first as the voice seemed fainter than a whisper. Collecting your forgotten phone from the conference table, you were almost out the door when you heard him speak. Tony Stark sat at the far end of the table, nursing a glass of whiskey, his eyes downcast and shoulders drooped. There was a pleading in his voice that you couldn’t turn down.

Ever since Pepper left him for good, Tony had been heading towards a steady downfall of self-destruction. He was never one to talk but the team knew it, you knew it. You silently prayed that he would seek help and not be so stubborn for once. But you knew better than to push your teammate.

“What happened today, Tony?” Grabbing the nearest chair, you slid into it and waited for Tony to speak. You frowned as he took in a deep breath, as if preparing himself to relive whatever he was about to say.

“I met a lady named Miriam Sharpe today at MIT. She had a son, Charles Spencer. Great kid. Computer engineering degree, 3.6 GPA. He decided to spend his summer building sustainable housing for the poor. Guess where, Sokovia. He wanted to make a difference, I suppose. I mean, we won't know because we dropped a building on him while we were kicking ass.” he raised his eyes to meet yours finally, guilt and regret swimming in them, almost drowning his soul with it. Pressing your lips in a thin line, you remained silent. How does one process this kind of information anyway?

“He would have been working at Intel come fall. And now…She blames me, Y/N. And she’s right. I blame myself. I created Ultron. It’s my fault.” his voice was so low, you had to strain to hear. You could see his guilty conscience eating him alive, and your heart broke for the man.

“It’s not all your fault, Tony. We all share responsibility for what happened in Sokovia. Could we have done without the blood-thirsty artificial intelligence that threatened an extinction-level genocide? Sure. But you have to stop blaming yourself for Ultron. We got him, he’s gone. The world is safe again, the Avengers made sure of that. You made sure of that, remember?” you reached out to place your hand over his, he didn’t resist, instead he gave you a small nod indicating he understood your point before offering you a small but grateful smile. Your words provided him comfort, temporary though, yet he was battling a world of obsessive thoughts on the inside.

Excusing yourself, you headed out the room once more, only for Tony to grab your attention once again.

“The world is only safe until the next big threat, Y/N. And then what? Another conference where I meet another parent of yet another child that didn’t deserve to die? We need to be kept in check.” he muttered assertively, downing the rest of his glass before heading out the door himself. Leaving you to ponder over his words that somehow rang true the more you gave it a thought.

.

“So you’re really going to leave huh?” Clint Barton knocked on your door softly before he made his way to your room, followed closely by Natasha Romanov.

“Yep. I’m really leaving.”

You were packing the last of your suitcases, cramming one of the many photo frames that held a picture of you with the team. A Midgardian suit-clad Thor stood tallest brandishing his humongous glass of beer, right next to Steve, Nat and Clint; Tony had decided to go for dramatics as he laid down in front of all of you, his suit jacket discarded as he laughed pointing at Bruce who had just spilled his drink down his shirt - all thanks to Red Wing - your trusted device that you secretly used for a jump scare. It was worth it. Taken at one of Stark’s parties, everybody looked happy, less frown lines, less stress. Good old days, you thought.

“That was a good night.” Clint chuckled, pointing at the picture and making you nod in agreement.

“I’m gonna miss you.” Natasha pulled you in for a hug, making you tear up in the process. She didn’t try and convince you to stay, she was probably the only one who truly understood why you chose to step away, even if she didn’t agree with the decision.

“I’ll miss you too, Nat. More than you know. You too Legolas. Don’t die on us.” you chuckled after hugging Clint. The nickname Tony gave just sort of stuck around, and it irritated Clint the most which is why you always chose to call him that. Both of them were the closest thing to family around here for you.

“I feel like I’m probably gonna be the only one who miraculously survives, Y/L,N.”

“Seriously though, be careful you guys. I have a feeling this is not going to end well.” you added, zipping up the last of your bags. Saying their final goodbyes, they left you alone.

Your room was now empty, all packed up into boxes, the space looked smaller somehow, even though it wasn’t. It was time for you to start a new chapter of your life and close this one. It came with unfinished business but you chose to move on. Whatever moving on from a superhero life meant.

.

“Please don’t go.”

Those three words rang in your ears months after they were uttered. As much as your heart wrenched, you had to leave, it was time.

The Sokovia Accords lay on the polished oak table, bringing dreadful silence across the room. It was hard to believe what your world had come to, and yet here it was. A choice. A choice that nobody benefitted from, except maybe the government. The accords meant that the Avengers would no longer function as an independent association, instead, the government would control and track their moves and influence their decisions. Not signing them would be considered as retirement, so there was no easy way out of it.

Did you agree with them? Absolutely not. Was it necessary? Probably. What shocked you most was that Tony Stark had agreed to comply, in fact he was coaxing each and every one to sign the papers. You knew what was about to happen. And you knew where you stood.

It didn’t make sense for you to stay anymore.

So you left. Retired as the government had you call it. And Tony tried to stop you, once. He assumed you would fight by his side no matter what. And for a brief moment, so did you. You wanted to be by his side, however, what Thaddeus Ross had asked of you was simply unacceptable. You could never live with your freedom taken away from you like that. It wasn’t regulation, it was manipulation and you couldn’t believe Tony for siding with it. It broke your heart.

And so with that broken heart, you fled town. Bought yourself a country home and a small farm with animals, you made a good life for yourself. A life so distinctly different from the one you previously had. No fights, no aliens dropping from the skies, no threats, but no Avengers either. And more importantly, no Tony.

It came as a huge shock the day King T’Chaka was killed in Vienna, and the terrorist later identified as The Winter Soldier only was going to make matters worse, you knew that.

A part of you felt guilty for leaving, while another part was relieved to be away from it all. The constant tug of war gave you several sleepless nights. The main cause for those was the fact that you left without saying goodbye to Tony. You wondered if he hated you for it. He probably did. The two of you were…complicated to say the least. The nature of your relationship was never clear, it came with baggage, one you were more than willing to carry before you were presented with the Accords. There wasn’t much left to say when Tony Stark became spokesperson for regulating and controlling the Avengers under the government’s shadow. Arguments seemed futile when the man was determined on what needed to be done to keep the team in check.

.

An empire toppled by its enemies can rise again. But one which crumbles from within? That's dead. Forever. - Helmut Zemo

Tony Stark was a man left wounded by many battles, some he drew upon himself, others he didn’t. The Sokovia Accords had caused a schism in the Avengers, a public feud with Steve Rogers and those he trusted at an airport in Germany. He had now the burden of involving a child in the fight, and the fact that he almost lost his best friend. Rhodey was built an exoskeleton to aid him in walking after he recovered, that was the least Tony could do. Although James never blamed him for anything, deep down it cut him that he was responsible for most of mayhem caused.

And then there was you.

You had left the team, left him without a goodbye. Disappeared one night without a trace. Tony felt abandoned by the one person he had hoped would never leave, and yet you had. He had had many sleepless nights thinking about you, hoping that one day maybe out of the blue you would come back and explain yourself.

And now you were gone.

.

Tony,

I’m glad you’re back at the compound. I don’t like the idea of you rattling around a mansion all by yourself. We all need family.

The Avengers are yours, maybe even more so than mine. I’ve been on my own since I was eighteen. I never really fit in anywhere, even in the army. My faith is in people, I guess. Individuals. And, I’m happy to say that for the most part, they haven’t let me down. Which is why I can’t let them down either. Locks can be replaced, but maybe they shouldn’t.

I know I hurt you, Tony. I guess I thought by not telling you about your parents I was sparing you, but I can see now that I was really sparing myself, and I’m sorry. Hopefully one day you can understand.

I wish we agreed on the accords, I really do. I know you’re doing what you believe in, and that’s all any of us can do. That’s all any of us should do.

So no matter what, I promise you, if you need us—if you need me—I’ll be there. The team may be scattered for now but I believe if and when the time comes, we will assemble as one. And it’s probably not my place to say this but, Y/N stepping down certainly does not mean she’s no longer with the team. She is out doing what she always dreamt of, living a normal life. Something all of us wish for every now and then. I hope you guys work it out someday. Take care, Tony.

Tony stared at the letter after reading it for the fourth time, the flip phone that came with it still in his hands. His mind invariably wandered to the last bit of Steve’s message. You.

Over the past few years, Tony had come to realize how integral you were, not just to the team and your contribution but to his life too. He had on many occasions found himself seeking you out for a chat, it always made his heavy heart just a little lighter. From the moment you joined the Avengers, you had intrigued Tony Stark. He admired you for your abilities, you were more capable than you were given credit for, you were compassionate, kind and a team player. You never said much but whenever you did, you always knew the right things to say, especially to Tony.

He recalled many occasions where you had leant a listening ear when he had wanted to rant, provided a logical solution when things seemed to get out of hand. He would never forget the comfort you provided when Pepper left him. You were there, holding his hand, hugging him tight when he asked to be left alone, knowing how much he needed a human touch. He didn’t fight it, instead he had let himself be held by you, by arms that provided safety, touches that soothed him and words that rendered all the uncertainties silent.

And yet you had left the compound without a word, or maybe without a conversation with him. It angered and worried him in equal parts.

The more he thought about it, the clearer the picture became of your possible whereabouts. One particular conversation stood out indicating where he might find you, memories of that evening brought a smile to his face as he recalled.

“Farm animals, definitely. I will get myself an alpaca, call her Ms Brain.”

“Are you serious?” you giggled, looking at Tony incredulously. The man was always full of surprises. You were lying on your backs on the compound lawn, it had been a particularly eventful day. Tony found you out here all by yourself, staring up at the gray sky. Getting him to lie down with you wasn’t easy but you managed, bribing him with his favorite whiskey later.

“What about you, Y/L/N?”

“Hmm..Let’s see. I want a huge backyard where I will grow my veggie garden, make the most delicious foods, and have a cat since I’ve always wanted one. Somewhere peaceful and quiet, away from the city, of course. Some place that’ll show me actual stars instead of these twinkling airplane lights, you know?” you murmured, chuckling as a plane flew right above, its red lights mixing with the gray smoke and clouds before it disappeared, effectively making its point.

Tony remained silent, turning his head towards you so he could see your face, your eyes still focused on the sky, he gazed at you fondly. Admiring you for having the courage to dream of a different life so freely, something he used to be able to do but now it all seemed too far off.

“What’s going on in that mind of yours, Y/N?” Tony murmured, reaching his pinky finger out to entwine with yours.

“I’m just picturing you on a farm with Ms. Brain on a leash.” You smiled looking down at your hands.

“Do you think about running away from it all?”

“All the time.” Tony replied promptly, turning his body to face you as you did the same.

“What stops you from doing it then?”

As if on cue, his phone rang, disturbing the quiet of the moment. He murmured a ‘that’ under his breath before sitting up to answer it, thereby ending your little heart-to-heart.

.

It was a lovely spring morning when you awoke. Your usual wake up call was meowing his way up your bed, demanding to be fed. Once the cat had his fill, you made yourself a cup of coffee and breakfast and went about your day.

Your life out here was simple, just the way you wanted it to be. Your savings had bought you a decent sized house with a large enough backyard garden for you to grow your veggies - something you always dreamt of having. The difference was so stark, it took you a while to adjust to this new life. But eventually you did. The peace and quiet it brought you was indescribable. But that didn’t mean you didn’t miss your Avenger life. To be more specific you missed the team, mostly Tony Stark.

You felt horrible for leaving without notice, especially after finding out about the fight that took place in Germany. You often found yourself wondering how he was dealing with everything. Did he have anybody by his side? You knew the answer to that. Did he get back with Pepper Potts? You didn’t want to find out the answer to that.

As evening rolled by, you poured yourself a glass of wine and got started on dinner, hearing a sharp knocking sound on your door right after. Frowning, you wiped your hands on a napkin and went to open it. You weren’t expecting anyone.

On the other side of the door stood the man you least expected to find, and yet the same man you were hoping to find all this time.

Tony Stark.

He wasn’t the Tony Stark you recognized. No. He seemed different, and not in a good way. His face was still the same, handsome, striking and yet it lacked the usual charisma. There were several bruises decorated all over his face, some healed, others on their way but definitely promised to leave a permanent mark. Words had escaped your vocabulary as you stood there dumbfounded, until he cleared his throat.

“Tony.”

“Y/N.”

“You’re um, you’re here.”

He gave you a nod, grateful that you stepped out of the way to let him in, still trying to process. Red Wing flew in after him, having scanned him for being a potential threat. It was a habit you couldn’t shake off, even in retirement, you were prepared for the unexpected.

“You turned Red Wing into a bellboy? You should’ve left with Dum-E, he would’ve been the perfect lawn mower.”

He made you chuckle, immediately reminding you of the Tony you had missed all these months. A part of you was relieved to see him, your heart beating with excitement now that there seemed a possibility that he was here to see you.

“Would you like a glass of wine?”

He shook his head in a no, explaining he had had too much coffee before, his trembling fingers spoke for themselves. Wordlessly, you made your way towards the kitchen, putting on a kettle of water to make him a cup of chamomile tea instead.

“Will you stay for dinner? I was only just getting started.” you offered, taking his noncommittal shrug as a yes.

He seemed to be busy digesting your new home, the surroundings that now glowed under the light of the setting sun. Your cat jumped out from his hiding spot, greeting Tony by walking between his legs, rubbing his scent over him, already claiming the man as his.

“He’s never that friendly with anyone.” you pointed out, smiling a little when Tony bent down to scratch him behind his ears, causing a cat to purr in appreciation. You brought him a cup of piping hot tea which he accepted wordlessly, taking a seat on your couch where you joined him. Several moments of silence passed where you watched him blow on the hot liquid before taking a small sip.

“You left without saying goodbye to me.”

Tony’s words fell on your ears but cut right through your heart. You should’ve been prepared for this to come up.

“Would you have stopped me from going, Tony?”

“No. Probably. I–I would’ve wanted you to stay and fight back, Y/N.”

You laughed humorlessly, shaking your head at the thought.

“Fight you, you mean? You know I was never going to sign those Accords. I was not going to fight by your side, Tony. You knew that.” your voice shook as you spoke, getting up from your seat and heading back to your kitchen, you put some distance between the two of you.

“Then you should’ve fought me! Anything was better than leaving unannounced, Y/N.”

His words made you turn around, his eyes shone under the candlelight, burning with embers of unanswered questions. You stood quiet, your breathing shallow now.

“Clearly I didn’t mean anything to you.”

“Is that what you think? You’re wrong, Tony. It’s because you meant the most to me, Tony. I couldn’t say goodbye to you because if I had, I wouldn’t have survived. And I couldn’t stay. So forgive me for running away, alright? I took the easiest choice at hand because the alternative was just too damn difficult.” you had a few tears strayed down your cheek by the time you finished, your heart now pounding wildly against your ears as you stood gripping the dining chair so tight your knuckles had turned white.

Tony sat still for a while, his brain comprehending your words before a hint of a smile made its way on his face, a sense of temporary relief - something he hadn’t felt in a long time. Something inside of him had led him here, the longing to see your face, questions that needed answers, the loneliness he felt that only grew more and more once everything that could go wrong went wrong. And yet, as he sat here after finding you, his heart felt lighter. Like he had made the right choice in what felt like forever.

“You haven’t asked why I am here.” he murmured, turning his attention back to the cup of tea in his hands.

“Wasn’t it to donate Dum-E to be my trusted lawn mower?” you jested, taking a seat on the chair you were previously clutching.

“I found out it wasn’t a car accident that killed my parents. They were murdered. By James Buchanan Barnes.” Tony stared ahead, gripping the cup tightly in his hands as he spoke.

“Oh my God, Tony…”

“And Rogers knew. He knew, Y/N.” he whispered, the anguish and hurt in his voice evident. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. The Avengers having a difference of opinion was one thing, but this piece of information was enough to cause a definitive crack, you knew that.

“It wasn’t Barnes, Tony. It was the Winter Soldier, he was being controlled.”

“They’re still dead.”

That made you understand he wasn’t looking for a logical explanation, at least not now. What he needed was comfort. Without another word, you made your way back over to the couch, placing your hand on Tony’s back to let him know you were there for him.

“I almost lost Rhodey. I saw him fall to his death from the sky, Y/N. I couldn’t make it to him in time. And now our team is scattered. Gone. All because I–”

“Because of the Accords, and a difference of opinion, Tony.” you shifted closer, placing the cup away to grab his hands in yours.

“But I signed them. I failed.” his words broke your heart, unshed tears now made their way into his eyes as he tried his best not to break down in front of you.

“Hey, it’s okay, Tony. We’ll figure it out, like we always do, right? It’s okay, come here.”

Wrapping him in a hug, you held him close to you as he broke down, finally allowing himself to be vulnerable. He held onto the light sweater you wore like you would disappear in his grasp, shoulders burdened heavy now shaking in silent tears as months, maybe years of pent up and unaddressed feelings resurfaced.

“Shh. You’re okay, Tony. Let it out, I’ve got you.” You carded your fingers through his hair softly, blinking your own tears away.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there, Tony. I should have been there for the team, for you. I’m sorry.”

He shook his head slightly, the movement a little difficult with his head safely tucked against your chest. After his tears subsided, you clasped his hand and led him upstairs to draw him a bath.

Tony Stark hadn’t known what it felt to have someone else care for him in a long time. He didn’t allow himself to be vulnerable the way he had now, because for the first time in forever, he knew felt safe. Safe enough to show his scars, his wounds. As you wordlessly undressed him, your eyes scanned the bruises littered across his skin, old scars and new. Your fingers traced them delicately before you nudged him to step inside the tub while you sat out. He needed this more than you at that moment.

The warm water healed his sore muscles, the ache that had settled deep within them slowly slipped out as your hands massaged the knots away. There was no way he could express how thankful he was for you in words. He chose to express it all with a kiss instead.

Right after you were done washing his hair, he held your hand to pull you closer to the edge of the tub, his gaze lowered as his face inched closer to yours.

As your lips met, you felt yourself melt against him. There was still a lot to work through but for now, you let yourself be lost in Tony Stark. All of him. You let him consume your senses. He was all that mattered.

“When was the last time you slept?”

“Hmm?”

Your question seemed irrelevant, you probably guessed it had been a while since the man got a good night’s rest. Now that you were out in your backyard, lying on a soft blanket you’d brought out to watch the night sky. Tony held on to your hand, placing it right over his chest where his arc reactor once was.

Several stars twinkled in the inky black sky, a visual you had missed in the city life. You remembered the nights you laid out here alone, rethinking past choices. You were content then, but you only understood peace now. There was no one else you would rather be here with than Tony.

His heart was beating steadily against your hand, his breath calm, features relaxed. This was the Tony you knew and loved.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad I found my way back to you.”

[traumadumpwriter]

Memory Games - 12

Newt x Female OC🐰

A dark Maze Runner romance between a very damaged girl and our soft boy Newt. With trigger warnings for self harm, abuse, assault, PTSD, mentions of suicide and general violence. Also written in the style of multiple POVs.

"All that was clear was that they were all boys - all of them - and it filled me with even more dread, instinctually defensive and fearful of the opposite sex. Even if I couldn't remember anything specific about where I'd come from, I knew that men were dangerous."

All interaction is appreciated! Reblogging is allowed! I take requests! <3

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Masterlist

Chapter Twelve

*Angel’s POV*

As soon as I started to run, I felt like all of my worries slipped away. I was amazed by the gravity of the walls around me, the way the breeze felt against my skin, the suddenness of each turn. And Minho's playful personality definitely made my mood better.

"You're not as bad as I thought you'd be. I'm only going at two thirds of the speed I usually would. Maybe you should be a runner." He'd teased at one point and I laughed.

"I don't know, I'm already getting tired, it's been like what - two hours? Maybe three? I don't know how you do this everyday."

"Training and practice, Greenie. Probably good that you said no, Newt would kill me if I let you be a runner."

"I'm sure he wouldn't be that mad. He seemed fine about it this morning."

Minho just chuckled and said nothing else on the subject, instead saying "How you feeling about tonight? The gathering and banishment. You ready?"

"As ready as I can be."

"Ahh it won't be that bad. The gathering won't be anyway. You don't have to watch the banishment." He sounded relaxed.

"I don't really want to. But I feel like I should, I mean give him that at least." I confessed and he tutted.

"You don't have to give him anything. He tried to kill you. And yeah, you might've been a bitch, but he's a bitch for caring. Dude was just pissed off that you went with Newt instead of him."

I scoffed at that.

"I haven't gone with Newt. We're just friends." I said clearly. "But maybe you're right. I mean, I've heard some pretty bad stuff being said about me and I haven't tried to kill anyone."

"Exactly. We've all said some mean stuff to each other. Long time since someone's reacted like that."

"Long time?" I thought. "So it's happened before."

"Have there been many banishments then?" I asked.

"Back when we first got here it was definitely more common. Bad stuff happened before we properly established a system, not everyone survived. This is the first in a while.. Don't feel bad about it though Greenie, Nick's been weird for a while. Real weird."

We slowed to a jog, me evidently out of breath, and Minho continued to speak.

"Him and Gally are the only ones who survived a sting. Made them even stranger. The ones before, we didn't know to use the serum. They got all kinds of shucked up, had to kill them to put them out their misery. Shuckin' Grievers." He tutted and then stopped. "We'll have a water break here."

I nodded and put my backpack on the ground, pulling the bottle from the side and relishing in the cool refreshment. I stood panting for a few minutes, thinking on what he said, whilst Minho was breathing steadily, clearly unfazed by the running he'd done.

"Have you ever seen a griever?" I eventually asked and he shook his head no.

"Heard a lot about them. Supposed to be terrifying. Maybe it's that that really messed with the lads that got stung, not the memories. If they ain't so bad, as you say."

"I wouldn't call the memories good. They're confusing, kind of stressful. But so is being here so, not much difference." I chuckled dryly and he chuckled back.

"You'll get used to it. It's always stressful at first."

"Yeah. I just hope they send another girl up next month."

"So do I." Minho scoffed with a cheeky smile and I laughed at that.

"Am I not good enough?" I teased and he turned to me with a straight face.

"Angel, you're more than good enough. But it would be quite nice if we all got to have girlfriend's. Not just Newt."

"We're just friends!" I protested. "And besides, isn't there like a no touching rule?"

"I'm sure Alby would reverse that rule if a hot little Angel of his own came up in that box." Minho teased and I playfully hit his arm.

"You recon? I can't imagine it. He's so.. serious."

"He's not really, not when you get to know him. He's always harsh with Greenie's, wants them to get used to the system quickly."

"Makes sense." I said, sliding the bottle back into my bag. "What was it you said about a serum? Did he figure that out?"

"Clint did actually." He said, reaching into his own bag and pulling out something. "I wouldn't usually bring one with me, but Newt insisted."

He handed me a small glass vial, filled with blue liquid, and I instantly thought of one of my memories - an injection, sharp and dripping with blue liquid. I studied the object curiously for a moment, trying to search further in my memory for any clue of how the two things were related. I came up blank though. I then turned the vial around, noticing something on the other side, and felt the air escape my chest when a word became clear on it. "W.C.K.D"

"That's the word I have tattooed on me. 'Fuck WCKD'. They're the ones supplying the serums? They must be the creators. Why do I have 'fuck the creators' tattooed on my arm? Was I right? Am I here because I pissed them off?" My mind raced. "Or are they just really bad? Surely I can't be the bad one. Maybe other people have the tattoos too. Maybe I just need to ask."

"Minho, I- I need to show you something. A-And I need you to promise you won't tell anyone." I stuttered and his brows knotted.

"What? What are you talking about?" He asked, clearly confused by my sudden mood change.

"Promise!" I said and though he looked uncertain, he did.

"Okay, I promise."

I took a deep breath before I rolled my left sleeve down to my elbow, exposing the skin to the sun for the first time that I could remember. In the light the scars looked even worse, and I just mentally prayed that he somehow didn't notice them. I pointed a finger to the tattoo below my inner elbow and looked up at Minho anxiously.

"Does anyone else have one of these tattoos?"

He stared at my arm with an expression of horror and I realised that my prayer had not been heard.

"Angel. What happened? These scars are- really bad. Did you do this to yourself?" He gasped and I responded bluntly.

"I don't remember, Minho. That doesn't matter anyway. Does anyone-"

"Doesn't matter?" He cut me off, his hand moving to hold my arm, one of his fingers tracing across the scars. "This is from a suicide attempt. And it's hardly even healed.. Angel, does anyone else know about this?"

"No. But that doesn't matter. I need to know about the tattoo. Why would I have the same word from the serum tattooed on me? And why would I say fuck them?"

He stepped backwards and looked around aimlessly, his mind clearly racing.

"I don't know. The only other person with a tattoo is Gally, but it's of something dumb. I can't remember what." He answered quickly, his voice empty and melancholic. "Is this why you've only been wearing long sleeves? You know you don't need to hide this, right? You should probably get seen by Clint or Jeff, this one doesn't look like it's healing very well."

I regretted showing him my arm, rolling my sleeve back up to my wrist and letting out a huff. Why did he have to focus on the scars? Couldn't he see that there was a bigger mystery at hand?

"It's healing fine, Minho. It doesn't matter. I don't even remember doing it so it can't be that relevant, right?"

"I don't know about that." He said with a sharp intake of air.

"Well do you know any reason why I'd have that tattoo? I think I did it to myself, I have a few others too."

He didn't seem interested in what I was saying, looking around aimlessly again and awkwardly answering "I don't know, Angel. You're best off showing Alby."

He seemed annoyed now, and I cringed as I answered "I can't show him" knowing I had no real justification.

"Why not?" He quickly shot back, an unimpressed expression on his face.

"I don't know.. I just... He's gonna flip out at the scars, make it into a thing.”

Minho stepped back towards me, though not in a threatening way, more just in a way to get his point across. He looked stressed as he expressed with his hands whilst he spoke.

"Maybe a little bit, but only because you've been hiding them. That's what this whole meeting is about later, you hiding stuff! Now you've either got to continue the lie and make it even worse when it eventually comes out, or you've got to just confess and get it over with."

"Well can you blame me for wanting to hide stuff? Everyone's acted like I've set off a bomb by being here, I just don't want to make things weirder." I scoffed and he seemed to soften.

"I know. I know it's not been easy. But the best way to get everyone to calm down a bit is to be honest... And maybe don't fuck with Jackson again, I know the shank deserves it, but you're a greenie. This lot take that clunk seriously."

I groaned in annoyance, knowing he was right. And so for the rest of the day, I thought about how I could tell Newt and Alby, but no good idea came to mind.

*Minho’s POV*

"Well can you blame me for wanting to hide stuff? Everyone's acted like I've set off a bomb by being here, I just don't want to make things weirder." Angel scoffed, and I understood where she was coming from. Still, I couldn't quite believe the secret she'd just revealed to me, and I was shocked that no one else knew about it - not even Newt.

The scars and cuts were vicious and plentiful, though the most vicious was by far the dark, vertical one on her inner wrist. I'd had enough scars to know that it was a couple months old at most, and I'd seen enough darkness to know that it had been a self inflicted attempt at suicide. I wondered where on earth Angel could've been before she was here, and what would bring her to do something like that to herself. Then I thought of the tattoo, the clear defiance she'd had to those who put us here, and I suspected that they had something to do with it.

"I know. I know it's not been easy. But the best way to get everyone to calm down a bit is to be honest... And maybe don't fuck with Jackson again, I know the shank deserves it, but you're a greenie. People take that clunk seriously." I said softly.

She groaned in response, clearly annoyed, and so I patted her back with a light chuckle, trying to lighten the mood.

"We'll get back a bit early so you have time to tell Alby before the meeting. I doubt he'll be angry."

"But what if he is? I mean; you're right. I've hidden so much already. I should've just told him as soon as I saw my arms for the first time, but I've been too ashamed." She confessed.

I felt bad for her. And then I felt bad for Newt. This truth would surely put him under even more stress than he'd already been and I worried that it might even be a trigger for him. It took a lot to make that boy snap, but when he snapped, he splintered. The memory of the day he jumped, along with the vivid fresh image of Angel's scars made me cringe. Why would either of them want to do that to themselves?

"It'll be alright. Just-Just promise me that you're never going to do that to yourself again." I said seriously, and she looked away uncertainly before sighing and saying "Okay. I'll keep my promise if you keep yours."

"What did that mean? Did she still want to hurt herself? Even without the memories of why she was doing it before? Was the urge somehow embedded into her?"

For the rest of the run I could tell that her mood had shifted into an anxious one, though I tried to keep her distracted with facts about the maze or general Glader gossip. It didn't seem to work.

When we got back to the Glade, I was going to walk her straight to Alby - knowing he would either be in the map room or the gathering room - but Newt spotted us immediately and quickly made his way over. Angel shot me a look which I knew meant to not say anything, and so I didn't.

"How was she?" Newt asked with a smile.

"Uh- good actually. Kind of good." I answered and Angel giggled.

"I learnt a lot. It was nice." She said to him, her face bearing none of the anxiety that it had held moments earlier. They gazed at each other so lovingly when they spoke that I felt as if I was interrupting something private.

"That's good. I'm glad you enjoyed it." Newt grinned at her. "I bet you're hungry."

"I am." She smiled. "What's on the menu today?"

I could see that she wasn't going to go to Alby any time soon, enamoured by Newt as soon as he was present, and so I just rolled my eyes and walked away.

It was a short while later that the other runners arrived back and I knew it was time to go get Nick from the slammer.

Alby and Ben came with me, ignoring his pleas for mercy as we dragged him from the cage.

"Guys! Come on! You heard what she said! You've seen what she's turned this place back into! You can't be picking her over me - surely not!" He cried, kicking his legs against the ground.

"No one's picking anyone. You broke one of the rules. You know how it goes." Alby said bluntly.

"Ben! Minho! You're my best mates! Come on!" He turned to us and started to cry.

I had to swallow a lump in my throat, wishing with my whole being that last night hadn't happened. But there was nothing my wishing could do and so I gritted my teeth and continued on in silence, mentally distancing myself from the care I once had for the lad. It was one of the worst parts of being in the Glade, and it never got easier, but when someone was banished it was easiest to just forget that they'd ever existed. Mourning their absence would do no good.

I could see out the corner of my eye that Ben was struggling with this too, more than I was. He and Nick had always been super close and so I knew that he was devastated. I would be too if it was Newt or Alby I was dragging to the maze doors.

There stood waiting was a crowd of lads, weapons in hand and ready to go. Some of them looked more solemn than others, some enjoyed having something to do outside of the usual routine. On the edge of the crowd, looking sheepish, stood Angel with Chuck. It occurred to me that he hadn't seen a banishing either, and he looked just as nervous as her. Nick didn't seem to have noticed them though, frantically kicking and screaming. His eyes locked onto Newt instead, who was stood in the centre of the crowd.

"I won't ever touch her again! Newt! Please! I don't know what came over me!" He cried, but Newt just looked at him blankly, his nostrils flaring.

"Fuck this." Ben muttered and walked away. I couldn't blame him.

"Newt! Alby! Minho! Gally! I didn't kill her, did I? Please! It won't happen again!" He looked around at everyone desperately but no one spoke.

Then the doors started to close and everyone positioned their weapons towards him, slowly closing the circle around him. It was then that his demeanour changed and his eyes locked onto Angel, who had slowly stepped over, still remaining a couple of feet from the crowd.

"You bitch! I wish I'd fucking killed you! It's only a matter of time before someone else does, and I hope you know what they'll do to your body! Whore!" He shouted. I cringed at his words, my guilt evaporating, and then I looked back at her, expecting to see some emotion. She just looked blank though. Maybe she was in shock. But both Chuck and Newt looked more distressed than she did.

"Fucking slut! Your boyfriend won't be able to protect you forever! I hope you see my face every night before you sleep! I hope the boys have their way with you-"

"Someone shut him up." Newt hissed and Gally angrily shoved his spear against his stomach, forcing him backwards between the closing doors.

It was at this point that he knew he was out of time and he started to run into the maze. I watched him run until the doors closed entirely, then I turned to Angel. It seemed that everyone was looking at her now, and she looked uncomfortable. Chuck was whispering something to her, though she didn't seem to hear it, her gaze fixed numbly on the doors. Then Alby shouted "Let's go" and everyone started to disperse, the keepers heading to the gathering room and everyone else going to the kitchen.

[vilz]

hello obviously there isn't anything i can really do to control this (unfortunately i deleted a bunch of posts BEFORE turning off reblogs on them) but i would prefer that people did not circulate my posts from this blog any more... i appreciate that people are kind to me about my art, but that is just my request i suppose. this blog is unprivated now, and if you'd like to see what is still up you can look at them here. my ask box is also open but i will not be making any art posts here from now on. here is a little preemptive faq:

why did you leave?

i didn't feel comfortable or happy posting on this blog any more!

do you still make art? do you post it somewhere else?

yes. but i've been pulling away from posting very much online, and the things i'm interested in drawing nowadays are generally more private, so i won't be directing anyone there or anything. i don't consider my new blog to be a continuation of this one.

i know your new blog!

that isn't really that surprising since i didn't honestly put great effort into concealing it or anything. we are probably not friends, so i hold no sway over you, but i would still prefer you did not share it or treat me as if i am still "vilz who posts fnaf art". i'm just a whatever blogger who blogs about whatever things. also to be frank i do not think my new blog has anything that interesting for people who followed for the kind of art i used to post here. this is not an invitation to say "it is interesting!".

we are friends!

if we have not been in direct, mutual conversations i highly doubt that. i'm sorry if that hurts anyone's feelings.

why did you delete all your self ship art?

people seem to enjoy my self ship art a lot, which is very flattering, but i don't want people to be looking at them any more. i realize that they are still rebloggable and are still circulating around, which is nobody's fault but my own, but i would prefer they were not shared any more. i can't really do anything about it and i also don't blame anyone for reblogging those posts since it's obviously not something they would know, but yeah.

i saw your art on pinterest!

i did not and do not consent to my works being put on pinterest. the art from "vilz" has not been uploaded by me to any other website besides tumblr. if someone is posting my art from here on a different platform, they are doing so without permission.

i saw you on magma!

i still join magma boards sometimes lol. it's a fun site.

what about your ocs?

they are still my ocs. sometimes i still draw them. currently, i do not have any plans of posting my oc art online ever again. i would prefer that people did not reblog the oc art i have posted to this blog.

what about your fics?

all of my fics are still up on ao3 anonymously. they are: small mercies obscura floriography baying of lambs scrape bitch, bastard, bullshit almost human a dream, recurring countdown i'm very flattered and happy that people have left kind comments on these. thank you very much for reading the words of an amateur and for sharing an experience with me.

are you going to finish your uncompleted fics?

i would really like to say yes, because i care a great deal about aspects of them, but it's looking pretty unlikely. i lost all my files (and my calmlywriter key !!! always save your emails and receipts, everyone!!!) and also it's hard to feel motivated about them now. i guess i will leave this up in the air just to soothe my own feelings but in reality the answer is Probably Not.

are you going to post new fics?

i might, because i've been in a writing mood lately, but please don't expect anything. if i do, they will be anonymous on ao3. i will not post about them here or on any other blog.

i really liked your posts and blog!

thank you. i'm glad that people could feel that way about the things i made and thought about stuff i care about. irregardless, i would prefer that people did not share my old posts from this blog.

i will do it anyway.

i cannot stop you, so there isn't really any point in pleading. i just thought i'd make a little info post for people who are inquiring. after this, there won't be any "posts" from me. if there are relevant questions or messages i might reply to them or just update this post.

thank you for reading and for enjoying my blog. goodbye !!!