#if they get broken up I��m gonna lose my mind | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

prettyboykatsuki · 11 months ago

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YOU’VE GOT THE CURE (EVERYTHING I NEED) | B. KATSUKI.

✮ tags ; gn + afab!reader, soft dom!reader, sub!bakaugou, developing relationships, mutual pining and ambiguous relationships, anal play (m!recieving), dry orgasms, p in v, unprotected sex, 18+

✮ wc ; 6.7k

✮ a/n ; an anon comission from a beloved mutual im posting. also just dropping in to say hello

✮ synopsis ; katsuki is too fucking young to have erectile dysfunction, damn it.

“Hey.”

“Hm?”

The sound of your typing is especially loud in the empty office. It’s a Saturday and neither of you are supposed to be clocked in, but when duty calls - it’s up to the two of you to answer.

“...I’m going to tell you something. If you so much as fucking laugh I will kill you.”

You don’t look up from your screen.

“Well that’s one way to start a sentence. I’ll try not to laugh.”

Katsuki slams his hand on the desk.

“I’m being serious,” He says in a half-yell. You look up from the edge of your laptop unflinchingly with a displeased frown, shaking your head and throwing your hand up half-heartedly.

“Fine, fine - I promise I won’t laugh. Can you stop being all ominous? You sound like Tokoyami.”

“There’s something wrong with me,”

“Well yes,”

“Not like that,” He hisses, taking a deep breath. He leans forward with his elbows on the table, hands clasped seriously as he covers his face. “...I think my fucking..thing..is broken.”

There’s a loud noise like a muffled laugh but when Katsuki looks up your expression is completely blank. Your lips are pressed tight, eyes out of focus as you continue to type. Or pretend to. True to your word, you don’t laugh but Katsuki still wants to fucking kill you.

“Oh? What uhm,” You clear your throat, lips trembling as you try to keep yourself together. “What brought you to that conclusion?”

He nearly snaps his pen in half.

“What do you fucking think?!”

“Hey. Calm down. I’m doing my best not to laugh but you are not helping.”

This is the sort of thing Katsuki would normally take to his grave. Not only is it genuinely humiliating, it is the sort of painful personal detail he wouldn’t share with anyone even if he was fucking them. It wouldn’t matter either, that his dick isn’t working - if the other ways he relieved stress were.

He’s got an average sex drive, sometimes lower but a high libido. Getting off is a physical response to a bodily need. Like eating food or taking a nap. It’s just because it’s a physical need, it is noticeable when the need doesn’t get met. He is painfully aware of it. It’s been weeks and he thinks he’s starting to lose his mind. Worse? He’s exhausted every human option trying to fix the problem himself, save for going to the dick doctor. His testosterone levels are fine, he gets check-ups more regularly than the average person. Given his reputation is at stake, he’d rather not get prescribed anything. He’s bought ginseng and shitty vitamins and medicine he had to ship from overseas. Anything and everything.

Picking up viagra at the ripe age of twenty four would give him psychic damage he won’t recover from, this much Katsuki is sure of. So not that. But everything else, every natural remedy conceived - he’s tried.

“I don’t know what to do anymore,” He says, pinching the bridge of his nose and willfully ignoring the sound of your strained huffing “I can’t fucking get….it up and I don’t know why. I’ve tried everything. Everything. I’m going crazy,”

“You know, it really says something about our relationship that you can confide to me about these kinds of problems. Like I’m so proud of us,”

“Shut up. I’m already miserable enough without wanting to fucking tell you - but the only other option is Shitty Hair and Izuku. I refuse to buy a single goddamn pill for it, and I know if I go to a doctor they’re gonna recommend it and—” He can’t finish the thought. It’s a little too sincere for the kind of conversation you’re having.

You’re a tactless person, so of course - you don’t bother with going along with the mood. Instead you smile like the evil bastard you are.

“And…?”

“You little—” He sighs rubbing his palms over his hands “And because I can trust you to be the least horrible option.”

“So you acknowledge my valiant efforts as your underling and assistant and know you’d be nowhere without me?”

“Shut up.”

“Aw, you’re sweet,” You say, promptly ignoring him “But yeah, I mean - no judgement. I would ask if you’ve had anything major happen but I unfortunately already know that’s not really the case.”

Yes. You, of all people, would know that no major changes have happened in Katsuki’s external life that would make it hard for his dick to function. You spend so much time together. Minus the time he spends working and catching villains in the world - you’re practically glued to his side. You’re in charge of all of his affairs, his schedule, all other personal things. Katsuki is naturally neurotic, but you handle all of it with grace and care. You know everything about him, which is why he is asking you about this problem.

(Does it border on unprofessional? Of course it does. But your relationship to each other degraded that border a long time ago. You’ve already slept in his bed and met all of his friends. And kissed him, but that’s irrelevant for now)

“I need solutions,” Katsuki offers, totally and utterly defeated by the situation at hand. “I’ve done everything. Taken every goddamn herb, done every meditation. Nothing is working. Nothing. I’m going to go fucking crazy.”

“Do you think just sleeping with someone would help? I know you don’t want to ask any of your friends, but maybe an escort? We can do it discreetly.”

“Fuck no. If it were that easy I would’ve done it.”

You pause. Katsuki can see the focus on your face and doesn’t know if it makes him feel better or worse. After an elongated period of silence, you perk up a little. You lock eyes with him and Katsuki briefly regrets bringing the whole conversation up in the first place.

“Hate to ask,” You say, though there’s not enough embarrassment on your face to make anything of that statement. “But uh, have you tried getting off with other things. Like something that isn’t your dick.”

He feels a flush creeping up his skin. “What the fuck are you talking about!”

“This is an important question,” You emphasize, an expression so alarmingly calm Katsuki doesn’t know if it makes him feel better or worse. “Cause if the answer is no, then that’s basically the best solution.”

“How the fuck is that the best solution? Are you insane?”

“Don’t be such a prude, Mr. Dynamight. You’ve bottomed before. It’s not that different. Have you ever tried it on your own?”

“I fucking hate you.” He replies, closing his eyes and frowning. “No I haven’t. Why the hell would I do something so embarrassing.”

“I know you’re super anal retentive - no pun intended there actually, but can you relax a little? It’s a good solution if nothing else is working. Your dick might be broken but an orgasm is an orgasm.”

“Remind me to never ask you for shit again,”

“I’d love that. Just keep me on payroll. Anyway,” You go back to typing. “I think that should be your first move,”

“How the—are you seriously telling me I should go fuck myself to solve my problem?”

You giggle. “Well it sounds bad when you put it like that. But I guess yeah. I can help pick out some sex toys, maybe, do a little research. If you don’t want to do it in your apartment, there might be a love hotel,”

A blush creeps up against the back of his neck. He covers his face with his hands.

“I’m begging you to shut the fuck up. There’s no,” Another wave of humiliation sets in “There’s no way this is how I’m going about this. Like. Fucking none.”

“The only other option is the good old fashioned doctors appointment, then. Which we can squeeze in over telehealth I think - since you got a check-up pretty recently. Want me to do that instead,”

“Fuck, no. I just,” He groans, feeling the stress make his eye twitch “Fuck.”

There’s a bit of silence and a little typing, like you’ve decided to leave him to his thoughts. Which he doesn’t blame you for, because all things fucking considered - there’s not really any more options. He’s a smart man and even he is fucking stumped. He’s going to have to give into something, eventually. He knows that, but it doesn’t make him feel any better.

As soon as he gets close to giving up, you sit up straighter and give a deep long sigh.

“Hey,” You scratch the side of your face awkwardly. “Do you want me to help you….?”

He stares at you. “With what.”

“With your dick being broken,”

“What?!”

“Don’t yell anymore, you’re giving me a headache,” You express, rubbing your temples. “Look. You need to get off, and you’re probably going to have to use your ass to do it. You don’t want to do it by yourself, and you don’t want to do it with a friend or escort. You’d prefer not going to the doctor's office or taking any pills. I’m offering - I’m not really your friend per se and you trust me enough to ask about it.”

He hates more than anything that you have a point.

“You can’t be fucking serious right now.”

“Hey. If you want your dick to stay broken for a while until you figure it out, do you. I’m just saying. Offering solutions is what you pay me for,”

He pulls back a little.

“...Are you fine with that?”

“Oh banging you? Is that what you’re worried about?” He winces at the direct and crass way you speak. “I like you plenty and you’ve got a pretty face. I’m down if you are,”

“I can’t believe I’m considering this.”

“Really? I totally can,” You snicker, and he really, really considers firing you. “It’s not the first time we’ve crossed boundaries with each other. Just consider it, okay? Before you actually blow a fuse.”

He leans back in his chair and groans.

“Fuck. Yeah, whatever.”

It’s another week before Katsuki takes you up on your offer.

Miraculous it took that long, given the amount he suffered stubbornly trying to fix the problem on his own. The lengths he went too are too embarrassing to even disclose or recount but it very quickly became clear that this was not an issue that was going to magically disappear - no matter how hard he tried.

Against his better judgment and after a long, cold shower trying to talk himself out of reality - Katsuki sent you a one line text.

Fine. Come Saturday.

The only thing he could say without dying of complete fucking shame. He’s grateful that’s the time you decided to have some tact.

(Not a lot, since the text back you sent was a peach emoji and a thumbs up. But whatever, he’ll take what he can get.)

It’s Saturday now, and he’s clean. All of him. He’s clean, and just wearing his boxers - sitting on his couch. You’ll be here very soon, and he can’t believe he’s saying this, but he’s nervous.

You did mention you were fine with it. He believes that because there’s been long standing tension between you two for god knows how long he’s not entirely blind too. You sleep at his place sometimes and spend all day with him, and then there was that one time you two kissed (very sober) during New Years. You don’t bring it up because you know he can’t deal with it. Yet he’s comforted by the fact you at least want it (because you’ve said so), and that you’re willing to do this despite the ambiguity in your relationship.

He knows that is inevitably going to come up today. But he really wants to fucking cum. And if it’s with you, then it’s fine. If his head was a little clearer, he would probably reject this whole thing based on his own emotional disparity. God fucking knows he is not in any place to deal with any of that. His heart barely gets by in the office and now you were going to fuck him.

Is he stupid?

Usually no, but because there’s a soft dick and tight balls where his brain used to be, currently yes. Everything put together, it’s a recipe for disaster. He considers telling you to fuck off and forget all this happens.

But then he thinks about the prospect of your hands and your voice and it’s enough to at least get his heart pumping, though his dick still refuses to cooperate.

More than anything, he does trust you. Shitty, smug little fucker you can be sometimes - there’s not a single person who goes out of their way for him. More than just your job, sometimes it feels like every little thing you do is for his sake. Everything you don’t ask of him, every secret you keep. You push him where he needs to go and encourage him to take risks in his career without imposing on him.

He blushes again, laying on his couch. He was nervous before but it’s not any better. Maybe he’s not so much of a dumbass as he is a total fucking masochistic. Is the level of overthinking the shit Izuku goes through? No wonder he’s like that all the time.

He almost jumps out of his skin when he hears the doorbell ring.

He answers the door shirtless and finds you on the other side. You have a cardboard box and the most nonchalant expression he’s ever seen. Normally it would annoy him, but right now he’s kind of comforted by it. You look at him with a flat smile.

“Hey sexy,” You say with no intonation. “Can I come in?”

He gives you a look of disdain. “Don’t ever say that shit to me again. But come in,”

You laugh quietly as he steps aside. You don’t have much with you other than the ominous box and your bag.

“You look like you’ve showered,” You say, taking your shoes off and putting on the house slippers he keeps for you. You don’t even look at him as you go towards his bedroom upstairs. He follows you with mild (faux) annoyance.“What a shame.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“I wanted to get a little romantical and help you clean up but you’ve taken that from me. I’m a little hurt.”

“You’re such a dumbass. As if I’d let you do that,”

“Don’t be such a spoilsport. I’m gonna be playing in your ass today anyway.”

“Not the same thing.”

“Tomato, to-mah-to,” You say with a wave of your hands. When you finally get upstairs, you look over your shoulder. Katsuki gets the message quickly enough, helping you with the door. You give him a little smile and let yourself in, dropping the box on the edge of his king sized mattress.

He stands in the doorway for a short while, glancing at you before coming in. You put your bag somewhere on the floor before getting back to the box you’ve brought over. He can guess what’s in it, but he stands with you to open it anyways.

Predictably, the thing is full of sex toys. The first question he wants to ask is how much you spent on all of it, but he bites his tongue.

You look at him and do a little jazz hands gesture. “Tah-dah.”

He gives you a displeased look, but you’re well used to this sort of thing from him. There isn’t actually a whole lot in the box. The theatrics of you bring it upstairs were more likely just you fucking with him for the sake of the bit. He frowns. Typical.

You do have some new things in the box. A few expensive look gadgets, like a pair of quirk canceling handcuffs (decorated with leopard print fur) and something that looks like it goes around his neck. The sex toys that are in there are noticeably high quality. You definitely used his dime to pay for this.

“Handcuffs? Seriously?”

“You’re too much of a control freak and I like not having my hands blown to bits,” You say, shaking your head. “We should establish some ground rules and stuff now.”

“Haah? The fuck are you gonna do that we need rules.”

“I’m not just gonna jump scare you with dominating you. But that is what I’m doing. What we’re doing.” You give him a more serious look, that makes him feel more shy than he cares to admit. “You get what I’m saying? You have to trust me a little, okay?”

He makes a petulant face at you. “I already trust you dipshit,”

“This and that are different,” You say, shaking your head. He refrains from disagreeing with you a second time. They’re really not, but he has no desire to explain that. “I’m gonna touch you and be a little strict. Are you okay with that?”

“I don’t care.”

“That’s not an answer,”

He grits. “I want to cum. And I…trust you or whatever. I already agreed to this. If it’s pissing me off, I’ll just kick you offa me. Anyway, ‘s fine.”

“If you kick me I’m suing you for battery. We can have a safeword. I’m not going to duct tape your mouth and I’m gonna talk you through most of it - but just incase.” You say. He pauses, taken aback by how… delicately you’re treating him. He doesn’t know if he should be pissed about it or not. “Any word is fine. We can use the stoplight system too if you want.”

“Stoplight?”

“Red for stop, yellow for slow, green for go.”

“That’s fine. Easy to remember.”

“Okay,” You nod to yourself, tucking the promise to memory before looking at him more seriously. “Are you okay with intimacy?”

He stares at you.

“The fuck…?”

“Kissing and hand-holding and all that other stuff.”

“Is it necessary?”

“Strictly speaking, no,” You look at him knowingly this time. He’s taken aback, but you’re always like this. You look through him, not at him. “Are you okay with it?”

The implication is there. Do you want it? is the question that goes unasked. Too direct for his tastes. He feels heat spread through his body, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Yeah…’m fine with it.”

Your smile is more genuine this time around. He turns away from you a little.

“Okay. That’s everything out of the way. I’m gonna cuff your arms,” You say. It all feels a little sudden. He figures you’d mean business, but still - he’s not all that prepared. He’s had a week to mentally prepared but that feels like nothing compared to now. There’s an authority to the way you talk now he isn’t sure he’s going to get used too. “Repeat your safewords to me when you turn around.”

He frowns but listens. He puts his hands together in front of him, waiting for you to cuff him, shyness making him hot.

“Uh. Red for stop, yellow for slow down, green for go.”

“Good boy,” You say so smoothly it almost rolls off of him. The cuffs go around his wrists, and Katsuki can feel the familiar sensation of losing his quirk. Now it’s just the both of you. “I’m expecting a little pushback, but generally - you’re to listen to me. Clear?”

“God, fuck - yeah clear,” Katsuki says, feeling ticklish all of a sudden. “All this shitty foreplay is making me feel weird.”

You wrap your arm around his midriff in a sudden movement, making him twitch. He can feel your cheek pressed against his chest as your hands hover over his waistband. He takes in a sharp inhale.

“It’s good that you’re feeling anything.” You say, breath just barely above a whisper. “Gonna take this off,”

He just nods, silently. It’s still on soft, but something is happening in his gut at least. You help him take his boxers down. You’ve probably seen him naked before, more than once. You two being attached at the hip was no joke. This time there’s this lingering anticipation that’s there, and that changes things.

He steps out of his boxers. He’s naked and you’re clothed and his head feels like it’s spinning. Your hand guides him to the edge of the bed. He sits and watches you, but you don’t undress.

The first kiss (second kiss) that you exchange with Katsuki is pleasant. You bend down to do it. It’s a chaste way to meet his lips, weirdly soothing while his stomach is starting to tie in knots. It’s a little surprising how..comfortable it is. Your mouth is soft, your lips taste a little like chapstick and you smell nice. You pull away to kiss the corner of his mouth, trailing down his jaw.

Your thumbs draw over the shell of his ear, rubbing the lobe tender. You’re so different. The contrast in your normal personality is a little too much for him to reconcile with easily, but you brush over these things well enough. He looks away when you meet his eyes.

“Do you wanna lay down or kneel?”

His throat is tight. “...Don’t care.”

You laugh a little to yourself, another kiss. “Lay down then. It’d probably be easier if you put your ass up but knowing you, I doubt it.”

He blushes, annoyed that he’s so obviously predictable to you.

The sheets are soft where he lays. You don’t join him on the bed at first. He just waits there cuffed as you shuffle around for things - lubes and toys and pillows. When you do return to him, you pat his side and slide a pillow underneath his back. He quickly regrets laying down, because god the position is fucking exposing.

You get between his legs and settle there comfortably. A hand rests on his bare thigh, rubbing your thumb into smooth, muscled skin. His breath is hitched. You lean down and kiss his hip. Still no dice on the erection, but you don’t seem discouraged.

You flip the lube open and let it pour onto your fingertips. It’s pink lube. This is mildly irritating, but saying anything will feed into your satisfaction so Katsuki bites his tongue. He watches it as you warm it in your hands, patting his leg with your clean hand.

“Legs up,” You instruct. “And deep breath. Try not to tense.”

“Just goin’ for it, huh?”

You don’t reply to that, but you do smile.

It’s not his first rodeo. His second or third, but certainly not his first - but he’s never had it done for a reason like this. There was an exchange prior, that someone was putting something in him for their pleasure too. This isn’t for that. This is just for him, with your skilled hands and your oddly gentle tendencies that he doesn’t see any other time. That proves to be too much, makes his belly feel honeyed with lust.

The warm, thick sensation of lubed fingers presses against the tight rim of muscle. He breathes and unclenches. Tries not to think too hard about anything. He’s desperate, too desperate. At this point, it’s hard to be prideful. Your hands are noticeably daintier than the ones he’s had in him prior. It’s…weirdly nice. Makes the process easier somehow. He’s reminded that you’re just you, and that makes him more nervous.

“That’s it, baby,” You hum, so soft it’s startling. The way the blood starts to rush in that familiar way nearly makes him sick. Oh, fuck. No way. “Oh?”

No way. No fucking way. No way that’s what does him in.

You pause. He takes in a deep breath, ready to say anything to defend himself. Humiliation spreads through his whole body. He can feel how hard he’s starting to burn, like the blood in his body is struggling to keep up with the desire and pump of his heart. His chest and face start to flush a familiar rose as he grits his teeth and closes his eyes.

Weeks. Weeks and weeks of trying to figure this out. And it was you calling him baby, of all things, to get him at half-mast.

He’s too afraid to open his eyes, but forces himself too. He’s expecting a smug laugh or sarcastic jab but instead you just look surprised. You stare at him, unblinking. He’s so startled he stares back.

“Do you wanna…keep going?”

He gets hard. Fuck.

“S-shit,” He says, wishing he could cover his face with his hands properly. “Yeah,”

He can’t read your expression at all. Annoying. You don’t brush over it though - but you don’t force him to acknowledge it either. Maybe you’re just focused on the fact he finally has something to work with and don’t want to ruin it by making him talk about his feelings.

“Baby,” You say again, smooth and deliberate. There’s that twitch again, something pooling in his gut. He starts to feel nervous. You’re doing the same as before, stretching him and teasing the rim - getting him ready for something else. “You like bein’ my baby, Katsuki?”

He opens his mouth, only to close it again. He tries to choke some word about, telling you go fuck yourself - but he always ends up looking at your face. Your lashes on your cheek. Soft touches and even softer words. He stops knowing what he wants at some point.

“Ugh,” His voice grows thicker. “Don’t ask me that,”

(If he were more apt at honesty, he could admit to you that he just wants you. In whatever way. Sometimes you get like this, when you’re not screwing around - and you’re so good to him that it hurts. He likes your sarcasm and dryness.

But he likes too when you’re this sweet on him too - even if that feels shameful as fuck. That feels like it’s crossing so many more lines that you’re usual self. He knows that better than anyone. It is crossing more lines than usual.

He can’t help but think about it anyway.)

You laugh a little. His eyes go lidded as you continue to work him open. It’s a slow process. You circle his hole with your thumb each time before pushing in. You get one finger in without effort. The second one takes a little more. Another heaved breath and unclenching of his muscles.

He hasn’t felt the sensation of something entering him in so long. He can’t remember when the last time was. He’s antsy as you pump your fingers in and out, stretching him slowly. You find the bottle with your free hand, flicking it open with your teeth and pouring lube onto him directly before you keep going.

“That feel okay?” You mumbles

“Y-yeah. Feels fine,” He huffs, closing his eyes “Feels…good,”

“It’ll feel better soon. Just need to,” You curve the two fingers inside of him up. They search and search and search until—

There. Shit, there.

“Oh, shit,” He gasps, arching himself up as you rub it. You smile at him, pleased. “Fuck,”

You whistle. Katsuki can feel his cock throb properly now, up at full attention. You don’t touch him though. Your other hand grips his thigh for support as you focus your wrist and energy on curling your fingers against his prostate. His stomach flutters, waist tightening.

He’s been fucked before, damn it, but this is different. This is controlled and concentrated. Your fingers are perfect in their motion, pinpoint pleasure making him break out into a feverishness. You’re annoyingly good at this. His whole nervous system feels like it’s being unraveled so slowly. Pulled apart like the slices of a fruit, something for you to pick off and eat.

His head feels like it’s full of cotton, tongue too big for his mouth. Thoughts clouded and inhibition lowered. Real pleasure. He hasn’t felt that in what has to be more than a month now. It’s overwhelming. He’s sensitive and muddy and acting stupidly - he’s well aware. It’s an out of body experience being so unwound in general but this after everything is overstimulating.

God it feels good. How can anything feel this fucking good?

His breathing is erratic, heart pumping trying to keep up with it. Euphoric little pricks start at his abdomen and shoot off through his whole body. Like the splintering ends of a falling star.

He’s never had any orgasm that feels like it needs every muscle in his body to pump through him. It starts in his center and spreads out, melts him slowly. Usually the feeling of needing to cum is passing - just building pleasure until the orgasm hits and the high relaxes. His cock is leaking now with every little press along his insides. Little white dribbles of pre-cum sliding down his shift all the way down to his ass. He doesn’t want to think about how he looks, so he focuses on how it feels.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” His voice almost gives. “Shit, I’m gonna cum if you don’t slow down.”

“You can cum if you want to, Katsuki,” As if to drive the point home by massaging his inner thigh, neglecting his cock “Guess you’re pretty sensitive inside, hm? Gonna make you cum like a girl,”

His blush deepens..

“Haah, fuck - fuck I’m not sensitive. It’s just, hng. Been a while,”

“Don’t be a liar or I won’t let you cum,” You tease.

His eyes shoot wide, brows touching his hairline. “Fuck, d-don’t you dare. .”

You have the nerve to laugh at him. All things considered, maybe you’ve earned. “Just teasing. I’m awful but not that awful. “

“You’re not awful, fuck - just really,” He throws his head back against the sheets. “Need to cum, really need to—”

“Gonna cum without even touching your cock,” You say, half-amused. He shudders when the realization dawns on him.“You’re so sweet.”

He’s drooling. The strength goes out in his jaw as the feeling just builds and builds and builds. It goes on like it’ll never topple.

When it does, it doesn’t feel so much like a rope unsnapping as much as it feels like everything is being pulled from under him. Like the loss of gravity. His abdomen goes tight, the anticipation of it making it impossible to breathe. So close, so close, so close. His brain feels shut off, mindlessly humping along air to capitalize on everything. You’re encouraging only eggs him on further. He lets out a garbled little noise, choking. His voice rasps as electricity flows through him.

And he cums, there’s an orgasm - but nothing comes out. He cums so hard but his balls still feel so tight and full. It feels good but he’s still so fucking hard. It snaps him awake as his eyes open, and you’re staring at his cock a little awestruck.

“Oh, poor baby,” You say - not exactly mocking him but not exactly being kind either. Katsuki stares at you lost and hazy. “A dry orgasm after all of that. That’s just cruel.

He heaves. “What the….how am I supposed to?”

His dick aches. Fuck he almost wants to cry.

Your hand wraps around the base of his shaft in a sudden movement, making him hiss. He almost cusses you out. Sensitive, too sensitive. You put your thumb over the tip of his cock, more pre-cum leaking from it as you. You look mesmerized as it dribbles against your thumb

A long pause.

“Hey,” Your expression is serious. “Do you wanna fuck me?”

“What?”

“I’m really turned on right now, shit. I was planning on just helping you but, you didn’t cum yet and I’m...,” You’re looking at him so directly. His heart pounds. “You can say no,”

Of course he wants to fuck you. That’s what he wants to say. He doesn’t know where he’d find the fucking gall.

“....’s sensitive,” He says instead, flushing with embarrassment. You brighten up. “Just… give me a minute,”

“I will but first,” You rummage through your items and pull out a plug. His eyes widen. “It’ll feel good, I promise.”

He grumbles, but doesn’t reject you. You have some kind of miracle in you - so he feels more inclined to just give in to whatever you say. You look eager to do it. He doesn’t know how he feels about that.

It’s easy enough to put the plug in when he’s already all soft. He’s still sensitive and swollen. He hisses as the cool metal of the plug slides into softened hole, before settling. You give him a little tap on his which he glares at you for. Your only response is laughter.

There’s nothing to talk about while Katsuki watches you undress. You don’t take it all off - just your bottoms. It’s not that he has nothing on his mind. Just that… seeing you like that isn’t making him any less hard. He just… looks at you. Dumbly. You slide your shorts off in one go and your underwear along with it, and you’re all on display.

It’s pretty. Your pussy is really pretty. A horrifyingly embarrassing thing for him to think but it’s true. There’s a fine layer of hair on your mound that he likes. You’re dripping wet like you said you were, and that doesn’t make the situation any easier. You give him a little smug grin as you settle over his lap. He stares at you completely absent-minded, flushed.

“Like what you see?” You tease. He’s too struck to lie to you.

“Yeah,” He rasps. He’s out of his mind right now. He blames it on his dick. “I wish I could take these fuckin’ cuffs off.”

You look at him a little surprised. “You don’t like being cuffed and restrained?”

His ears feel hot, heat prickling up his skin. “Didn’t say that just,” He groans even trying to say it. “...Wanna touch you,”

He trails off. You use your hand to turn his face back to you, cupping his jaw as you bend forward to kiss him. He stares at you wide-eyed, making a noise of surprise. This kiss is different from all the others. Deeper, with more feeling. He gets into it, lifting his head to kiss you back.

When you pull away, you’re all fluttered lashes and adoration.

“After I drain your dick dry,” You say with a confidence that astounds him. “I’ll take them off and let you fuck me proper. But you have to tell me you want that, first. Do you wanna fuck me, baby?”

“Shit. Y-yeah,” He nods, feeling absolutely swept up in your pace.

“Say it.”

“I wanna fuck you, dammit,” He stutters through the last of his sentence. “Don’t make me beg, my dick is going to blow off if you keep torturing me.”

You laugh good naturedly and he feels a little proud that he made you laugh. The thought that he’s beyond whipped wipes the smile off his face completely, but whatever.

You pull back, sitting up as you examine his cock. You hold it up to you, weighing your options.

“I’m too horny to open myself up. I’m just gonna sit on it, ‘kay? Don’t buck your hips up,”

He opens his mouth to protest, but the words die in his mouth. The warm, wet heat of your cunt is immediately overstimulating. He groans so gutterally it startles him. Like it’s punched out of him. This is the only pressure his hard cock has gotten in months and it’s making him feel like he’s on fire.

You don’t give him a chance to cover. You lean over him as you maneuver his cock to your entrance with all disregard for his sanity. You hiss as the tip finds the spot. Fuck you’re wet. Your insides are so soft, so sticky - but you’re still so damn tight.

As you promised you go slowly. It doesn’t help him losing his mind. Worsened by the fact he can see you on top of him, all bated breaths and shaky moans. There must be a dull pain, but you only give him a smile as you get the first inch.

“You’re big,” You say breathlessly. His cock twitches to life. “Feels fucking good. Shit, that’s amazing. Haha, I can feel you so deep already.”

“Please stop talking, before I, haah,”

“Don’t cum yet,” You demand, lowering yourself further and further until you’ve bottomed out. Katsuki feels fucking crazy. “Let me get my fill first.”

“Ngh, easier said than fucking done,”

You just laugh. “Try your hardest, Mr. Hero. Show off your endurance, hm?”

He groans as you start to move. You really don’t regard him at all. You lean over him with one hand and use your other to tease and toy with your clit as you ride his cock with reckless abandon. The room is quick to fill with noise - the sound of skin slapping skin, the skin sticking where your hips meet his thighs.

You’re moaning in little broken waves. He’s not going to last if he listens to you anymore.

He’s biting the inside of his cheek trying not to cum, but you don’t make it easy. You’re riding him with so much force, using him. Your pussy is so tight it’s gripping him, sucking him dry. A vice-like grip, sticky and pliant over the hard curve of his cock. Everytime you bounce and throw your ass a little harder onto him, he can feel you. Feel himself and how deep he is. His hands tighten into fists where they’re cuffed in front of him.

He’s never been… used like this. But he doesn’t hate it the way you disregard him to chase your own pleasure while being so generally mindful of his own. You take and take and take but you make it feel so good.

It’s not helped by the plug in his ass, brushing against his prostate every single time you move. Makes him jolt. Every fiber and nerve in his body is wound as tight as it can possibly go. All of his strength, sanity, and focus he has left in him is trying not to cum, not to buck his hips up and rut into you like a stupid animal no matter how much he wants too.

He can feel you start to cum before you even tell him. Your walls pulse with need and your movement starts to get slower. The grip you have holding you up weakens slightly.

“Gonna cum. Fuck baby, I’m gonna cum,” You say with a pant. You open your eyes and look down on him “Cum with me, okay? Don’t hold it in,”

The words alone trigger a reaction. But with everything else, it’s like Katsuki explodes. Weeks worth of tension in his body, in his muscles, in his everything - burst at the seams. You cum and he follows you nearly in succession. The hard pulsing of your swollen cunt suck around him like a vice and he goes practically limp feeling his dick finally drain.

He cums and he can’t stop cumming. Pumps out so much white hot seed his head starts to cloud. He fucks up into you, sloppy and dumb. Chasing his high as he pours every ounce of his load into your pussy without so much as a modicum of shame. A month of dryness overwritten by the most intense orgasm he’s ever had in his fucking life. He doesn't know how long he stays there, painting your walls with his spend. It just goes on forever, longer than he’s ever experienced.

He has his eyes closed as he goes limp. Fucking hell.

It takes him a while to go soft again. When he finally does and returns to consciousness, he’s still nestled inside you. You give him a smile when his eyes finally open, leaning forward to kiss his hairline.

“Still all there?”

His voice is hoarse like he’s been screaming. “I feel like I fucking died,”

You giggle.

“So… no?”

“Kind of. Barely. What the fuck is up with you.” He says laying his head back, sweat dripping down his back. “Shit.”

“Did you like it?”

He gives you an unimpressed look as you laugh.

“I’m glad.” You say softly. You’re warm. God he’s down bad. “We have a lot to talk about later. You should take a little break for now.”

He nods in agreement to both things before pausing. “For now..?”

“You thought we were done?” You say with a tilted head. He gapes. “I thought you knew I was more ruthless than that.”

He groans.

“You’re insane.”

You chuckle, leaning down to kiss him.

“You love me.”

He lets you kiss him some more and doesn’t bother denying it.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou smut #bnha x reader #bnha smut #a.dr #writing tag

3K notes · View notes

thecoochiefairy · 7 months ago

Text

𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖈𝖔𝖔𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖊𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖞

━━ 𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑒 .ᐟ getou.

warnings 𑄽𑄺 13.4K word count. filmed sex, suguru getou, third person omniscient pov, black woman, black girls, vaginal penetration, nasty mf sex, rough, lil bit of sweet talkin’, hair pulling, squirting, creaming, oral [f] [m], choking, praising, LOTS and i mean LOTS of dirty talk, a lil degrading, slapping, condomless sex, kissing, pet names, spanking, aggressive suguru, lil bit of sweet suguru, suguru makes that girl lose her mf mind on that dick, minors aren’t welcome!

song to play while listening; 𝑝𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑜𝑠 ; 𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑓𝑎𝑖𝑦𝑎𝑧

━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ okay y’all, i know it’s long. i’m sorry. IM SORRY! but, mocha said this is her favorite one, so i hope it might be y’all’s favorite too. ngl, i love it as well. it’s sweet, it’s nasty. it’s perfect. enjoy babies 🫶🏽

“IT’S BADDIE-BADDIE SHOT O’ CLOCK!”

Ears ring from the music blaring within her head, red bottom heel buzzing from the vibrations the floor carries. It’s not that she didn’t enjoy spending time with her friends, but this was the last place she wanted to be.

Clubbing wasn’t necessarily her thing. More so her friend's enjoyment, but to make up for lost time she agreed to this outing. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world. She held her drink close to her body, nodding her head softly to the music as her friends cheered out. She watched as the bottle girls appeared in front of them, swinging giddily to the beat of the song.

This had been her only day off in almost a month, working back to back doubles at her clinic. Her friends always complained that she needed to get out more—she just wished that they actually did something she enjoyed, rather than her being too nice to say the club was a bit overwhelming.

Drink after drink was being offered to her by every man within the building, her friends shooting her down each time she declined. She wasn’t interested in any of them, no matter what they offered. A dance, money, sex— her mind was elsewhere.

She kept a smile along her face as everyone in her section continued to yell in enjoyment, raising her drink as they cheered for her once again. The minute the song changed, she took that as a moment to duck off. She muttered to her best friend, “Gonna grab something out of my car,” she offered to go with her, and she shook her head that she’d be fine.

The cool air outside almost felt refreshing, as if she’d just come up for air out of the ocean. Birds chirp within the night. Any sound was better to her ears than the chaos that ensued inside the club, a sigh passing her lips as she dug her hand within her purse, searching for her lighter.

Instead of retrieving her lighter, she gripped her phone that conveniently buzzed as she touched it. She turned the screen towards her face, reading the unwanted message.

FROM:

smalldickbitchassmothafucka.

MESSAGE:

wya?

She rolled her eyes instantly, shoving the phone deep within her purse. She successfully retrieved what she was actually looking for, finding her pink cigarette box, pressing the button along the side as an equally pink bud released from the top. She pressed it in between her lips, fully focused as she searched for her lighter. Nothing.

She became more antsy as the air swooped around her, fishing around her purse deeper as she continued to search. A thought runs across her mind to completely dump the contents of her purse along the ground, knowing that was overzealous. She groans as she can’t seem to find it. Had she left it at home?

Her eyes then follow over to the light bursting open in her vision as the door swings out, quickly returning back to darkness as a body now stands a couple of feet away from her. A broken light above them flickers down onto a tall man. Cigarette poking in between the plush of his lips, even being in darkness, she sees him. He was horrifyingly attractive. Tattoos roam under the black top he wears, the shirt seemingly supposed to have an oversized look but it mistakenly clung to his hard upper body. Gauges swinging in his ears, low bun dropping tendrils around his face as he lights the end of his cigarette, shaking the fire off the tip as he inhales quickly. She drinks in his appearance. Eyebrow piercing glinting under the dim light, midnight black hair that complimented his olive skin, piercing eyebrows that give him a natural frown. Jesus.

She usually could see attractive men and go about her day. But something about him clung to her, moth to a flame as she stared at him. He was beautiful. The only thing that took her out of her staring was her phone buzzing in her purse again. She opens it, eyes dropping down to the lit screen.

FROM:

smalldickbitchassmothafucka.

MESSAGE:

ik you’re at the club. let me pull up to your section.

She turns her phone over in her purse, other hand still holding her box of cigarettes. She usually wasn’t the type to approach a stranger in any scenario, but it wasn’t gonna kill her to ask, nor would it kill her if he said no. She takes a deep breath, taking a couple of steps towards him as she asks, “Sorry—you gotta’ light?”

His figure was tall and well toned more up close. His eyes shifted over to her, smoke coming out of his nose similar to a dragon as he stared down at her smaller frame. The way that she drank in his appearance wasn’t the way he consumed hers. She stood in front of him, pretty as can be. Light brown skin, onyx curls that wrapped around the fullness of her baby face and heart shaped russet lips. Her eyebrows were darker than the night, arched over the wisps of lashes that lined the edge of her eyelids. Her face was almost feline under the dim light. Dark brown eyes glowing viciously at him, coaxing his attention. Between the brown lip liner and mauve color scheme she mixed together, nose having a tiny amount of pink blush on it, it all enhanced her beauty in a way that gave her a great amount of appeal. If it wasn’t her face, it definitely was the heavily detailed dress she wore, clinging to a preposterous figure as it was a long sleeved, deep v neck design dipping down her chest to show the valley of her taut breast. Her nipples poke through the multicolored material as if saying hello to him, fabric clasping around her child bearing hips, fat ass, skidding down to the dangerously tall red bottoms she wears. She was sexy if he couldn’t think of another word.

“Yeah,” his deep voice rang in her mind, reaching somewhere in her body—maybe nudging her clit—as her brain scattered fantasies of hearing that voice in her ear. She shook the thought away as quickly as it came, watching as he leans forward, flicking the lighter as he cuffs his large hand over it. Her body leans into him as she successfully lights the end of the cigarette, pressing her two fingers around it as she inhaled, letting the smoke fill the space.

In her own way of saying thank you, she attempts to spark a conversation as she mutters, “Trying to knock my habit. I seem to be failing.”

The man chuckles softly, a sly smile growing across his lips, “Same here. Shit is too expensive.”

As he watched her take in a long inhale from the cigar, his dark eyes would scan over the rest of her body.

“What’s an innocent girl doing out here alone? Tryna’ get away from the loud music?”

“Innocent?” She raises an eyebrow, a glint of amusement in her eye, “How presumptive. Just needed a moment of silence, not much of a club person,” she explains.

His deep chuckle was smooth in her chest, shaking logic off of her shoulders as she felt a little too captivated in wanting to hear everything he had to say. He’d give her another charming smile before he nodded his head, “Too bad, pretty little doll like you shouldn’t be smoking like an old ass man. Sure you aren’t out here hiding from a crazy ex or something?”

What a damn flirt, she thinks. Nonetheless it causes her to chuckle, “Mm, not quite. I’m actually here with my best friends. It was easier to come out here, I wasn't trying to bring down the mood with my shitty one.”

Her eyes knock down to her phone that buzzes again, a roll coming to her eyes as she doesn’t read the message this time. The man in front of her seemed to be studying her, almost. He sees as she refuses to look at her phone.

He’d raise his eyebrows, “I didn’t peg you to be a liar.”

“You shouldn’t peg a stranger to tell you any type of truth,” she’s quick, he thinks, a smile back along his lips as he turns his face towards the night.

“Entertain me, then. You gotta’ man?” He flatly asks.

“Had one. You’re nosey, it’s cute.”

“It’s an occupational hazard,” his eyes flick down her body, “I’d like to think I’m making conversation. You’re good at fuckin’ around before giving a solid answer,” he tells her, bringing his lighter back out as he flicks it on for the end of his cigarette.

She leans back against the building, noticing the intense stare he gives her, almost like he wanted to pin her along the wall.

“Ex-boyfriend. Almost a month now.”

He’d give a nod of his head upon hearing her response. After taking a long exhale of the cigar from his lips, he’d glance down at her again, “Must’ve been a fuckin’ idiot. The bastard cheated or something?”

She turns her head towards him, silence as she hears what could’ve been a compliment, “With my co-worker, actually. Called me crying that her car broke down and I asked him to give her a ride to my apartment. He had my car. Next thing I knew, she was riding him,” she shrugs, hearing as he sucks his teeth, “It’s okay. I’m trying to be a big girl about it.”

“I’ll kill him for you,” his voice is serious.

She lets out another breath, laughing softly as she says, “He’d be dead if my intent was to kill him.”

“That’s a damn shame. You should be angry,” he tells her, scanning her face that rids any emotion from the comment. She’s quiet.

She shrugs, “Could just be a coping mechanism. We were together for a while. NowI just feel—stuck…”

She feels like she’s over sharing. She shakes her head, changing the subject as she asks, “So what are you doing out here by yourself? You’re not a creep, are you?”

A deep chuckle comes from under his breath, “A man can’t take a smoke break?”

“Not if he’s preying on innocent women, scathing for their vulnerability,” she scans his face, his amusement to her words unbearably attractive as he shows his bone straight smile to laugh.

“And you say I’m the cute one,” He exhaled the smoke, watching as the puffs quickly got taken up by the soft wind before it scattered in every direction.

Although he seems to brush off her slightly rude comment, she snapped only because he was digging the surface of her emotions. She didn’t like that. She let out a breath as she tried to correct herself, “Sorry, love. Didn’t mean to offend. I’ve heard there are monsters crawling the city at night,” she tries to joke, “But I am voluntarily smoking beside you. So I can’t really call you anything.”

“Need me to protect you?” He taunts.

“Absolutely not. Maybe you’re projecting, sure you’re not the one in need of saving?”

He eyes her, “Funny. To answer your question, I’m here with some friends—I needed a moment to myself.”

“Doesn’t answer on whether you need saving or not.”

“You seem to have a big imagination,” he then points out, flicking his cigarette onto the ground, raising himself off of the wall as he steps closer to her.

“Bigger than a child’s,” she agrees, “I’ll always be a believer in spooky things,” she states, twisting the cigarette within her fingers.

“I could be one of those monsters,” he shrugs, body towering her frame as he now fully stands.

She continues to lean along the wall, a small laugh falling from her lips as the nicotine makes her slightly buzzed, eyeing him in a way she hadn’t before. Her phone buzzed in her purse again. He was close to her, his cologne drowning in her nose as he placed his arm along the side of her body against the wall.

“Are you scared?” He asks, his voice low, deep.

She shakes her head, trying to suppress her smile as she says, “Nope.”

“Good.”

It was true. At that moment, she felt nothing. All she could see was this attractive man in front of her, the tendrils of his hair close to her face. He’s trouble. On the other hand she thinks—should’ve had a goddamn lighter.

Right on time, the door to the club then swings open. Eyes look around outside, successfully finding her friend as she holds her phone to her ear, “Here her ass goes. Earth to the birthday girl! I’ve called you three times, Star. ’The hell have you been doing out here?” She eyes the man with a frown, bringing her focus back to her friend.

His eyebrows slightly raise at that, yet he keeps his eyes on her. An evil grin reappears atop of that eerily straight smile as he smugly states, “Looks like your smoke break is over, birthday girl.”

She sighs, “Unfortunately. And your name was?”

“Suguru,” he replies, the name sounding sexy falling from his lips. A brief thought wonders what it’d sound like falling out of her own mouth.

“Nice to meet you,” she hums, “Thanks for the light.”

She dropped her cigarette along the ground, digging her thin heel into the object before making her way inside, his eyes knocking down to her ass, “No problem,” leaving him outside by himself.

The rest of the night was better than she expected it to be. Her mood was up a bit more—specifically after a couple shots of Dussè—an outgoing personality now fitting along with the rest of her friends as they sang her happy birthday. She could admit, the rest of the night also included her constantly making eyes at Suguru, his presence reaching from the other side of the club even as he distractedly spoke to his friends. She felt him staring. Her phone buzzed in the corner of their section, Star and her friends now tipsily rapping out to ‘Fake Jammin’ by Sexxy Redd, the alcohol in her system providing a confidence as as bent over the table, swinging her hips to the song, dipping down sultrily, careless of the eyes that followed her body. And yes, she knew he was looking. As she continued to giggle and dance with her friends, she curiously looked over to see if he was watching. Of course he was.

Yeah, okay. He thought to himself.

The night eventually came to an end, the DJ announcing that the club was closing with it being four-thirty in the morning. Star’s feet were aching in her heels as she trudged behind her friends through the front door, her body feeling the presence of the man she’d met outside behind her, even in the chaos of other people walking. She refused to look back. Even with her feet hurting, she was still a little floaty from her previous shots, a giddiness that couldn't ruin her happiness. Her other friends trailed behind her, two of them holding onto each other as they were drunk, her best friend also being the only other sober one.

“We woke up in the kitchen saying ‘How the hell did this shit happen? Oh baby!” One friend sings behind her, seemingly becoming more intoxicated as she shouts out the lyrics.

“Last thing I remember is our beautiful bodies grinding up in that club—“ the other sings, clinging onto her friends arm as they sing in unison, “DRUNK IN LOVEE!”

“You think they’re gonna throw up?” Star asks, trying to hide her laugh as they belt out the chorus.

“God I hope not,” her best friend sighs, eyes on the screen of her phone as she throws her purse up her shoulder, “Big-E just texted me, said he wants me to pull up on him.”

“Who?” Star frowns deeply.

Her best friend frowns back, “Don’t do that. You know that’s my lil’ play thing!”

“Oh girl, you mean Emmanuel? The one that steals cars?” She ignores the arm that shoves her away, laughing at her best friend's irritation, “Please call that man by his government. I am not calling his ass by that stupid ass street name.”

“It’s cute!”

Star rolls her eyes, “Ghetto. You’re tryna’ go over there right now?”

She nods her head in reply, “Imma’ drop off dumb and dumber to my house before I go, let them raid my kitchen and sober themselves up. You’ good to drive home?”

“Yeah, I’m good—“

At the mention of her car, she halts as she sees her blood red Camaro, a bright yellow catching her eye as she sees not just one—but two boots on her back wheels. Her energy quickly falters, anger seeping up her spine as she picks up her dress, darting closer to her car as she spits, “Motherfucker.”

“Oh hell,” her best friend curses, “I thought you paid to park?”

“I did! Fuckin’ forty dollars just so I could be close to the door, the bouncer told me it was fine! That stupid ass nig—“

“Calm down. What are you gonna’ do?”

“I don’t fucking know. I have a night shift later on. This is so stupid!” She exclaims, leaning along her vehicle as she runs her fingers through her hair exasperatedly.

Almost like clockwork, Suguru appeared behind her after overhearing the conversation between Star and her friends, seeing as she was now fuming about the boot on her wheels. He gave a nod to his own friends as he made his way over to the bodies standing around her vehicle, a small hint of amusement on his face as he asked, “Everything alright?”

“Hell no. Motherfuckers put a boot on my damn car.”

“Damn. That’s crazy,” he tells her.

She narrows her eyes at the unnecessary comment, feeling her pressure spiking at the shit-eating grin upon his face. She then states, “Did you need something? Cause’ unless you got Triple A in your back pocket, imma’ ask you to get the fuck away from my car.”

“Hm, I didn’t know Triple A took boots off of cars,” he replies, tilting his head sarcastically.

Her eye twitches. Just as she’s about to go off on him, one of her drunken friends cuts her off as she drops her face to get a look at him, eyeing his body up and down as she asks, “Where the hell you’ from? It damn sure ain’t Louisiana.”

He smirks towards her as he replies, “Kyoto, Japan. Moved out here when I was younger, I stayed to help rebuild the businesses needing repair from Hurricane Katrina.”

“Oooh, that’s what you do for work?” The other friend also slurs.

“Imma’ architect, love. So yes.”

“Oooh, a working man. I like that,” the two friends both play off of each other, moaning together.

Star’s annoyance nearly clouds at the top of her head, Suguru enjoying the way her face becomes red, full cheeks fuming as she stares at him. She looked adorable.

“Your friends are funny,” he chuckles.

“Then get their numbers. You seem to be interested,” she fires back.

“Cute,” he eyes her, “I want you though.”

“So? Get in line. You ain’t the only one.”

“I wasn’t asking,” he tells her, large frame hovering over hers as he stares down. Unfortunately she was slightly mesmerized. What a fucking-goddamn flirt, she thinks again.

“I’ll take you home, babydoll. Since you seem to be stuck here anyway.”

“Nuh-uh! Hell no. You’ fine and all, but nobody knows your big headed ass. Try again, make your way back to your lil’ boy band,” her best friend cuts off.

Star shrugs, “I don’t know you.”

He’d glance down at her, shrugging his shoulders with his hands shoved in pockets before he’d gaze down into her friends eyes, “I understand. How about I give you my information?”

“Oop! He’s good,” the drunk friend comments.

“Whew, fine as hell, too!,” the other muttered, drunkenly giggling amongst each other.

Her best friend still has her arms crossed with narrowed eyes as she replies, “That sounds good and all, but no. Let’s go, Star.”

Star lets out a breath, seeing that irregardless of his playful nature, he becomes serious as he speaks of her safety. It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to get a ride home from an attractive man, that’s all it was going to be. She then turns to her best friend, “Actually, it’s okay. He can take me home. I know you wanna go to your little sneaky links house and end the night off with him. You have my location, I’ll be fine. Go to Big-E’s house, or whatever the fuck his name is.”

“Big-E?” Suguru frowns, Star quickly reminds, “Hush.”

“You sure?” Her best friend frowns.

“Positive.”

She then looks back at Suguru as she says, “She has a gun. Just so you know.”

“You’ll have my information, she has her gun. She’ll be good,” he promises.

Her best friend apprehensively stares between the two, sighing out as she says, “Fine. Keep your phone close to you at all times, so god help me I will chop you up into little pieces if you don’t answer me,” she threatens, pulling her into a hug.

“I’ll hand you the knife,” Star chuckles, tightening the embrace.

“Let me get these dumbasses home,” she sighs, “I love you.”

“I love you more,” Star replies, the two girls behind them giggling as they wave to Suguru, “Byeeeee.”

He waves shyly, chuckling as they pull each other along to the car. Once the two are now left alone, Star looks to him as she says, “You think you’re so cute, huh?”

“I am. My mom tells me all the time,” he replies, “So, Big-E? That’s a cool name.”

“I’m ignoring you,” she mutters, going towards her car as she begins to pull her work clothes out of the backseat.

“Can you call me Big-S?”

“I will fuckin’ shoot you.”

The first thirty minutes of the car ride had been silent. Star had her eyes forward, her mind stressing over the fact that her car had a boot on it, her phone wouldn’t stop buzzing, and she was now receiving a ride from an ungodly hot stranger that slightly annoyed her. Her feet also ached. But she needed something to uplift her spirits. The wind rushed through her hair as he drove a sleek black Challenger, customizing it to look almost retro as it had a drop top, headlights a lime green color as it shined onto the street.

“Nice car,” she compliments softly.

He turns his head towards her, “So she does speak.”

“You can just say thank you.”

“Thank you,” he replies, “Wanna see how fast it goes?”

“No—“

She squeals out as he presses his foot on the gas, igniting the engine as he speeds faster down the road. She grips onto the door with a now red face. Suguru chuckles, the car engine growing louder as he presses his foot down.

“Relax, pretty. I’m a good driver, Never had an accident,” he would reassure, looking back at the road, “You mentioned having a night shift. Where do you work?”

“I’m an uh—Phlebotomist,” she tells him, shrieking lightly as he goes even faster, “Would you stop it?!Don’t be an ass, speeding down the highway and killing me won't make your dick any bigger!”

His laughter grew as she would shriek when he continued to drive even faster, taking corners just to tease her more, “I’m just tryna’ lighten up your night a bit, it is your birthday.”

“Or just slow down?” She suggested. Her eyes fall down to her phone that vibrates once again, body becoming irritated at the familiar number.

FROM:

smalldickbitchassmothafucka.

MESSAGE:

you ignoring me fr?

She flips the phone on her lap. Suguru catches this movement, looking down as he asks, “Ex tryna’ contact you again?”

“Unfortunately,” she mutters.

“Why not just block him?”

She thinks on that question, trying to figure out whether she wants to be honest with him—or honest with herself, really.

“I like the attention. But I don’t want to talk to him,” she shrugs.

He raises an eyebrow, “Isn't that a little petty?”

“Petty? Might be. I enjoy seeing him suffer a bit—if he’s even suffering. He’s probably calling me, laid up with some bitch as we speak,” a roughness is in her voice, almost like jealousy. She could admit that the idea bothered her a bit.

Suguru keeps his eyes on the road in front of them, “Maybe he is. Why do you give a fuck, though? He doesn’t deserve you. You’re a fuckin’ ten, he’s an idiot.”

She feels her face become warm, not sure why his words make her a little flustered. She usually had control in these situations. She then says, “I didn’t ask for a therapy session.”

“Not trying to give you one,” he frowned, “If you truly didn’t care, you would’ve cut contact. Saying you enjoy the attention sounds like bullshit. You still have some sort of feelings for him.”

“You really are nosey, aren’t you?” She scrunches her face.

“You went from your whole body shriveling up when he texts to you getting upset over the possibility that he is with someone else. Which is it?”

“Would you rather me shoot you in your ass, or shove my foot up there? Which is it?” She mocks, back to being annoyed with him.

“I hit a nerve,” he points out, “You could’ve just told me to drop the subject.”

“Threatening to shoot you should have sufficed that I wanted the conversation to end,” she sneers.

Their relationship was an extreme sore spot for her. She wasn’t sure if feelings were still there, or she was bitter from being hurt—nonetheless, she didn’t want to hear the truth. He couldn’t help but still think she was incredibly cute even when upset with him. As he continues to drive, the car is back to being silent. The streets are completely empty as her eyes stare out the window. Suguru then halted, twisting the wheel as he began to spin the vehicle.

Her wide eyes shifted to him as she asked, “What are you doing?”

A mischief is now in his eyes as he looks at her. He presses his foot along the gas, the car beginning to swerve faster as it flew backwards. He’s doing donuts. At first, she’s completely terrified. She cries, “Hey! Stop it!” Her hair flying all around her face, wind smacking her body.

“I told your ass to relax,” he places his hand along her thigh, reassuringly squeezing as he takes his other hand, turning the wheel in the direction he wants to go.

The car begins to spin faster. Her heart nearly falls in her ass. But as it continues, it feels almost as if she’s on a rollercoaster. Her stomach dropped in a way that made her feel ticklish. It felt like her entire body weighed nothing, and she was flowing through the air like a bird. Her curiosity got the best of her as the music within the car boomed along her skin, her head slightly tilting outside of the car, hair flying in the opposite direction, air swooping along her scalp. She faintly giggles.

The air felt good in her face, pulling her unruly curls out of it as the street lights shined along her expression. In that same second she jumped from curiosity to fearlessness. She shuffled onto her knees as she leaned her upper body out of the car and yelled out, releasing all the pent up energy within her body, whether it was good or bad.

Suguru grinned as he saw her beginning to enjoy herself. He would glance over at her, watching as she would lean out the car to yell, Cheshire grin along her face. Her frame was beautiful as she bent over, his mind aching to touch her, feeling the peace that radiated off her body. It sounded stupid to say, but at that moment she felt— free. She brought her head back into the car and laughed, seeing as Suguru reversed the vehicle back on the road, howling as he sped down the street.

“Look at you, so pretty when you’re not mad.”

“Shut up,” she rolled her eyes, biting her own mouth as she didn’t want to smile.

He poked her cheek, “I see that smile, you can’t hide it. Now I wanna make you smile all the time.”

She keeps her eyes to her lap, shaking her head at his words. Damn. She hated how good he was. Her mind has that floaty feeling she had when she first exited the club, body tingling as Suguru reached for her thigh again. He dragged his fingers up as he searched for her hand, pulling her towards himself as he kissed her palm, muttering, “You’re sweet, doll,” holding their intertwined fingers in his own lap. Something shifted in her chest.

They had finally made it to her apartment after almost an hour of driving. Although, she could admit that she was glad to have that hour with him. Silence greets them again, her free hand patting lightly along her lap as she tries to find her words. She couldn’t lie, he was patient —despite the multiple occasions where she almost crashed out. She felt like she needed to grow fond of the word sweet and take action.

“Um—do you wanna come inside for breakfast? My treat,” she offers, “I mean—I feel like I owe you something—if you want. Just—yes or no, please?” She stuttered out, wanting to kick herself.

For the first time, he catches her being…nervous? Those same round cheeks that he couldn’t stop staring at were warm within her face, no blush needed for her skin as she was doing it naturally.

A smirk grew in his face as he decided he wouldn’t make fun of her for it, “That’s fine.”

“That’s fine? That’s like saying, ‘sure’ like you just do it cause it seems convenient—“

“Star. I want to. Stop fussing, brat.”

She rolls her eyes, “I’m not a damn brat. Just needed clarification,” she grumbles.

“Can you feed a man, babydoll? I got needs,” he touches his stomach, groaning dramatically.

She’d never had another man in her house besides her ex in years. Although she wanted to play along with him, her awkwardness was beginning to return. She nodded her head, “Good. Yeah. Good. Okay,” she muttered, now wanting to full on roundhouse kick herself.

He grabs her things for her as she gets out of the car, Star’s nonexistent ass hairs standing up as he follows her up the stairs into her small apartment. Pink decor and stuffed animals laid all around the living room.

“Don’t say shit about my girly ass house, healing my inner child,” she defends, locking the door behind him. Her apartment almost seemed too small with him in it, his large frame damn near covering the entire house.

He’d glance around the room, feeling a little taken back by the large amounts of pink decor and toys, Suguru finding himself even more interested the more he saw. He let out a chuckle, “I wasn’t gonna say anything.”

He’d lean against the wall as the two of them stood inside, glancing down at his towering height, her apartment being so tiny that he almost had to kneel down to not reach the ceiling.

“Kuromi?” She then calls.

Before Suguru could ask who she was calling for, a pitch black pit-bull came flying out of her bedroom, beelining straight for him. As intimidating as the dog looked, the large animal pants excitedly at the scent of a new guest within the house, rubbing her body against him happily.

“Don’t worry. She’s harmless, as much as I want her to be the most terrifying guard dog. I think she secretly wants to be a cat, rubbing up against you like that,” Star can’t help but smile.

The dog was adorable. He let out another chuckle as he looked, crouching down with his hand extended, “Hey, girl. Come here.”

“You better stop, she falls in love easily,” Star warns as she sees them becoming acquainted, “Anything in particular you want for breakfast? I’ll cook anything but bacon, me or Kuromi don’t do pork,” she explained, patting her dog as she jumped up beside her, excitedly yelping at her presence.

“Why don’t you do pork?”

Star presses her lips together, sighing out as she hates telling this story, “Well…there was a petting zoo at my job one time and I took Kuromi with me cause they said other animals were allowed. And—well, she ate one of the pigs. It was so sad,” she frowns, her eyes coming up as she sees him trying to hold in his laugh, “Hey! Not funny,” she pouts.

Suguru’s eyes widened in curiosity at her answer to his question, before immediately letting out a laugh. His laugh would only continue further “Why the hell would you bring your dog to a petting zoo?”

“I just wanted her to see other animals,” she continues to pout, moving her face away as he gently touches her chin in comfort.

He’d look down at her as she pouted, unable to hold back from gently caressing her chin with his palm. He found himself being a little intrigued at the look she seemed to frequently make, Suguru leaning forward, “Your pouts are adorable, y’know that? I’ve never seen anyone who pouts and tantrums as much as you do.”

“I do not tantrum, dickhead. Just complain more often than others,” she corrects, making her way towards the kitchen, beginning to search around as she stated, “Just for that you’re getting a damn omelet. No choices for you!”

She bent over into the fridge, never noticing his eyes that continuously knocked down to her ass any opportunity he had to do so. He followed behind her as he leaned onto the counter, “What if I’m allergic to eggs? What if I was looking forward to having pancakes or something?”

“Then I hope you have an epipen! Should’ve thought about that before you basically called me a toddler,” she retorts, diving into the fridge for the ingredients she needed, placing them on the counter.

He found himself amused by her attitude. He’d lean over her shoulder slightly as she brought out the ingredients she needed, letting a grin grow on his lips as he spoke into her ear, “Keep talking shit and I’ll put you over my knee to spank your ass like a damn toddler.”

She blows her hair out of her face, feeling a chill run through her body at his close proximity. She brushes him off as she then mutters, “Womp womp. Whatever, anyways, ooh! I have turkey bacon, is that okay?”

He exhales, “Perfectly fine, baby. Let’s hope you cook as good as you look.”

“Don’t be tryna’ kiss my ass now cause you want a good breakfast. Besides, I’m the best omelet maker in this century. In this galaxy, you’ll see,” she nods her head, grabbing for a pan and whisking spoon.

“Are you even alive if you haven’t had an omelet from Star?” He taunts.

Star winks, “Exactly. You’re smart. I like men with big sexy brains.”

As she begins cracking the eggs into a bowl, her phone buzzes for the thousandth time tonight. She unfortunately had the ability to see the screen since it was facing upward, briefly reading over the message, honestly wishing she hadn’t.

FROM:

smalldickbitchassmothafucka.

MESSAGE:

imma come over there when i get off work. i wanna talk to you. i fucked up.

“Do you need me to block his ass for you? You seem to be fuckin’ hardheaded,” Suguru speaks, Star looking behind herself as she catches an irritation in his voice.

“He’s just pissed that I’m ignoring him. He’ll stop eventually.”

“He’s been texting you since four in the morning, probably even before that. It’s damn near seven now. The more you ignore him, the more he’s gonna seek out your response.”

“Are you putting on your therapist hat again? I don’t think I asked for another session,” she furrowed her eyebrows towards him.

“I don’t need to wear my therapist hat to understand how an ex’s shitty behavior works, baby. You’re an enabler.”

She let out a breath as she asked, “Hand me an egg, please?” Reflexively blowing her hair out of her face as she tried to ignore his comment.

He raised a brow at the sudden change of subject, his hand beginning to move to pick up one of the eggs before he’d tease, “Say please again. Much sweeter in your pretty voice.”

“Hand me the fucking egg, jackass?” She corrects herself, smiling as she does so.

“Good girl. You’re better behaved than before,” he then hands her the egg, Star snatching it out of his palm.

Star begins to play music from her phone, ignoring the multiple messages as she places it back down, continuing to cook. Silence comes back between the two as Suguru begins looking around her apartment, catching younger pictures of her, family portraits, small things that made him grin. As he continued to her bedroom, he noticed a phone holder mounted along her wall across from the bed, frowning at the randomly placed adapter.

“What’s this for?” He asks, Star leaning herself out of the kitchen as she follows his eyes to her bedroom, “Hm?”

As she made eye contact with the familiar piece of equipment, an influx of memories came flooding into her mind. She couldn’t debate whether they were fond memories. She wipes her hands with a paper towel, annoyed at the blood filling her cheeks as she replies, “We uh…use to record ourselves…y’know. Or I’d record something for him,” she says quietly.

His brows would raise a little as he heard her explain what it had been used for, his lips curling into a teasing smirk.

“Don’t smile like that. It’s creepy,” she turned back into the kitchen, continuing to crack another egg into the bowl as she was planning to mix the yolk with seasoning.

“That’s not very nice, doll. I didn’t even make fun of you this time.”

“Your face told it all,” she grumbled.

“How about you make your signature omelet so good it completely masks my thoughts?” He’s back to his taunting, entertained by how riled up it makes her.

“Maybe I should poison it then, hm?” She suggests politely.

“Will it give me the shits or make me sleepy?”

She presses her lips together, a small chuckle leaving her mouth at that as she giggles, “You’re so dumb.”

The soft music playing was a comfort to her. With all of their innocent flirting, Star didn’t realize just how much she was intriguing Suguru. All of the times she had an attitude with him, snapped at him, her smile, her sexy laugh, all of it was being jotted down in his head. He was like a ticking time bomb ready to blow up at any second. Fortunately for her, his time capsule had began when they first met. Unfortunately, his time capsule had just now run out. As she began to stir the egg yolk, her eyes hadn’t noticed as Suguru watched her every move. His vision had darkened, tunneling in on her. Specifically on her dress and the way her body curved within it.

Her innocence had gotten the best of her, in her own world as she happily spoke, “You’re gonna love the taste of these, promise.”

“What do you taste like?”

The words fall from his lips quickly. It spiked up her spine like he’d lit a match, making sure that she wasn’t crazy and that she’d heard his words correctly.

Her eyes turn towards him as she says, “I—huh?—“

She squealed lightly as he picked her up by the hips, placing her roughly on the kitchen counter. Her face goes completely hot, unable to say anything against his dark eyes. He would laugh darkly at her reaction, taking in the way her cheeks flushed brightly as he placed her onto the countertop with such ease. His eyes would wander over her now exposed thighs, hands gripping the skin as he moved to stand in between them, “Are you always this pretty when you’re flustered, Star?”

“Flustered? I—well—“

His lips are along her throat, Star’s hand flying upward and gripping tightly along his neck as he sucks along the skin like it’d be his last time ever doing so. Her entire body melted at his touch. She couldn’t think of the last time she’d felt this type of pleasure, her eyes fluttered shut, a whimper leaving her mouth before she could think about suppressing it.

He would feel her grip him tightly as she let out a light whimper, a grin spreading wide on his face hearing the noise fall from her mouth. He would press another few kisses onto her throat, his mouth trailing up until he lightly nipped at her ear, tugging it between his teeth as he whispered to her, “Fuck. You’re so sensitive, baby. You’re already falling apart.”

She didn’t know where these feelings came from, but it was like a river rushing through a dam, crumbling the wall as her body was now immensely aroused. She wanted him to touch her in ways no one else hadn’t. No one else couldn’t. Her phone began to buzz again, her eyes looking over to it, suddenly being pulled away as Suguru gripped her chin, harshly pulling her mouth to his.

He would be brought out of his own thoughts, feeling her begin to look away as the sound of her phone echoed through the room again. A low growl would come from his chest as he began to pull her chin back towards him, his mouth deepening the kiss. His hands would move up, grabbing onto her hips as he pulled her forward towards him, pressing her body more firmly against his own. His kiss was different. It was passionate, all while being completely lustful. His tongue was within her mouth, damn near removing the tonsils from her throat as he swirled it around, holding her by her chin dominantly.

His tongue explored the inside of her mouth as he groaned softly, loving the taste she had. She was sweeter than she looked. He would move one of his hands down to her thigh, giving her skin a light pinch between his fingers, Star gasping softly as he hoisted her against him, wrapping her legs around his waist. In that vast moment he also used one of his hands to grab her phone. He continued to kiss her, digging his fingers into her scalp as he jerked her head back, yanking her face upwards to suck along the skin of her throat. The feeling was so overwhelming, her eyes closed as she dug her teeth into her lip.

She barely had a conscience to notice as he placed her phone within the holder against the wall, her ears then registering as he turned on the camera, pressing the record button.

She looked up to him as she said, “What are you…”

He would chuckle at her questioning tone, his lips moving down along her jawline as he replied, “I wanna see how pretty you look on camera. You like being watched, doll?”

“No,” she immediately lies. Her entire being was interested in his offer, but she refused to let herself fall that easily. Her breath hitched as his hand fell down to her ass, gripping the skin in his palm as he harshly spanked her at her response.

“Don’t fuckin’ lie to me. Be honest and give me permission before I do anything else to you,” he demands.

She was at a loss for words. When she realized that he was more worried about her consent than anything else, she nodded her head, “Yes, I like being watched,” coming so soft from her plush lips, pulling him forward into another kiss.

She’d never had a man be so forward with her, eyes catching her face within the camera as he laid her along the end of the bed, her eyes only able to see his broad back within the camera as he gripped his shirt from behind, removing it to reveal an inked up back.

His eyes would glance into the camera that was pointed at the two of them, his grin slowly growing into a full smirk as he saw her expression. His arms flexed around him, showing off the ink that was along his back before he’d pull the shirt off fully, tossing it to the floor as he turned back around and kneeled down in front of her.

Her eyes watched him. Her entire frame jumped as he yanked her to the end of the bed, tossing her legs over his shoulders. She then heard him mutter, “Fuck that,” twisting her around so her back was now facing the camera, his body leaning against the front of the bed. She was now sitting along the top of his face, legs hoisted above his broad shoulders.

He groans, digging his fingers into her skin as he pushes her dress up, his eyes catching sight of the name, ‘Angel’ tattooed along her ass cheek. He arrogantly chuckles, Star gasping lightly as he spanks right above the name, gripping the trembling skin within his palm as he groans, “Imma’ eat your pussy so fucking good.”

He instantly wraps his lips around her clit as he pulls her down, grunting as he tastes her, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he does so. She was like candy to an addict, a reward that wasn’t so easily given to him. He wanted to drown in her. A demon out of hell he was, sucking along Star’s clit as he dragged his tongue through the entirety of her, twisting his head from side to side as he delved deeper, relishing her scent melodically.

She sucked in a breath, knees shifting on the edge of the bed as he held her by the back of her thighs, his eyes locking up to hers in a way that had her release a cruel exhale.

“I’m g—gonna fall—“

She nearly slipped, his strong arms catching her legs, locking them up over his shoulders, allowing her to lean halfway on the bed. He guided, “Control your hips, baby. I’m doing the rest. You’re so fuckin’ wet. I want more,” he grunts, nuzzling his lips against her clit, nudging the sensitive flesh as he lapped his tongue up and down, gripping her skin tighter as he commanded, “Give me more.”

“Suguru,” she whimpered. He realized up until now that this was her first time saying his name, the sound so foreign among her tongue that it ignited him even further. Her back arched, deepening her core along his face, shuddering out another gasp. His tongue worked along her sensitive folds in teasing strokes, dragging down until he met with her squelching hole, tongue fitting perfectly inside of her as he pushed within the velvet of her walls.

Star’s mouth broke open as she moaned, gripping her hand in his hair that framed along the edge of the bed. He ground her hips along his face with desperation. It was as if he were starving, making out with her core in a way that had his lips and jaw soaked, head knocking up and down as he grunted against her.

He locked his mouth along her clit again, Star shudderingly gasping and whining peevishly that she tugged his hair, eyes tightly shut as he dirtily spit along her opening and watching as her chest palpitated, running his tongue along the entirety of her pussy and slowly pushing his head forward, suckling against her. He dirtily kissed her clit, eyeing it dangerously from above before spitting on it again, hungrily taking it back into his mouth. He devoured her. She gripped the dark streams until her knuckles blushed a crimson red, blood flow coursing through her veins immaculately.

Her eyes briefly made their way behind herself, seeing the outline of her body atop of his face, her vision able to see as his tongue plasters upward and onto her core, her eyes quickly falling back to the opposite direction as he stings another spank to her ass, “Pussy is so pretty, baby. Like fuckin’ art,” he groans.

He went from pressing kisses along her inner thighs just to get a look at her core glistening tempestuously, to his tongue again running along the entirety of her, taking in the rosy color against his taste buds, groaning tumultuously at how something so vulgar was deliriously alluring. Star’s lower abdomen trembled at the merciless action. Her hips swirled slightly as she whimpered gratifyingly when he ran his index and middle finger along her clit, running down her core before he sunk his fingers inside of her, scissoring her opening. Suguru listened as she prettily moaned in his ears from the harsh actions, her nails shoving into his hair as he inhaled her honey streamed scent and delectable taste, a mixture of inebriety that Suguru desired for.

She thought for a second, maybe he hated her. Maybe he wanted to do some type of torture upon her. Had to. His long tongue, slick with saliva lengthens out as he grips the bottom of her thighs, bouncing her up and down against his face, grunting each time his tongue pokes at her g-spot. Star reaches back as he grips for his arm, whimpering as Suguru shoves her hand away, spanking her for even touching him.

“Put your fuckin’ hand down.”

“Suguru, please. I’m gonna cum.”

“Then make a mess on me.”

The sound of her opening sounds wet, sticky and spurting out as she creams just from his mouth, Suguru arrogantly chuckling as he spreads his tongue for the camera, “Yeah, yeah. Too fuckin’ good to me, creaming on my tongue. Imagine how you’ll look on my dick. I’m gonna fuck you stupid.”

She believes him, too. Star holds her breath as he pulls her body upwards, his back now fully against the bed’s banister as he sat up against it. He was quick, twisting her hair within his fist as he guided her pretty face towards him, locking her within a kiss that she had to exhale for. He pulls her back from his lips, “Such a fuckin’ brat,” Star is already knowing, reaching for the hem of his pants as she pulls them off, her eyes not expecting something so heavy and veiny to slap along his belly button. Her mouth goes agape.

He watches her within the camera, her silhouette beautiful to his eyes, back arching as she kneels towards him, lashes fluttering against her full cheeks as her breath hitches from the hold he has along her hair. She wraps her lips around his tip, pink and soft within her mouth as she slides her mouth down, letting him sink deeper within her throat until she coughs, humming with her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Suguru’s eyes never leave the sight of her on video, curls shifting in his fist as Star bobs her head up and down, whimpering out as she begins to move her neck faster, desperately wanting every inch of him within her throat.

“All you needed was something in that fuckin’ filthy mouth of yours,” he grunts, watching as she wraps her hands around the bottom that her mouth can’t reach, moaning softly as she massages his balls with her fingers. His intense stare at her darkens, “This is all you wanted, huh? Spit on my dick, don’t need you crying that I’m tearing you apart. Need you to take every inch of me.”

Shut up, shut up, she thinks, his words making her more wet by the second, gasping against him as he spanks her again, rushing his hand up to the back of her neck as he pushes her face down. Her arousal practically drips along the bed. Star’s lips begin to burn, her throat entirely full as his tip knocks at the top of her mouth, almost feeling empty each time he pulls out to slam back in.

“I’m so fuckin’ horny,” she whimpers, Suguru chuckling as he pulls her face up to his, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she admits, carelessly so, opening her mouth as she sucks him back down her throat, slamming her lips down the front of his hips, Suguru grunting out, abdomen tightening.

“Fuck. C’mere,” he pulls her up, smashing their lips together roughly. Star pouts along his mouth as he stopped her, whining again as he feels her pout, bringing his hand as he gently slaps her face, “Needy ass,” he grits his teeth, pulling her on top of his lap.

His tip is prodding at her opening. Her back arches as she raises her hips away from him, feeling his tip fat against her tiny hole. Suguru takes himself within his hand, using the other as he holds her hip above him, sinking his tip into her, stretching her out as his girth was just as large as his length. It felt almost cruel. She fought with her dress as her body became extremely hot, Suguru taking his hands as he effortlessly shredded the material, her mind too gone to even become upset.

He then gripped her chin, forcing her to look behind herself and into the camera. Her cheeks were warm as he did so, trying to turn back towards his eyes, unable to do so as he shook his head.

“Don’t look at me, babydoll. I want you to watch yourself as you ride me,” his tone had turned seductive as he spoke to her, his hands moving up to her waist before he’d add with a chuckle, “Put on a fuckin’ show for me,” he sinks her down further, Star’s eyes tightly shutting as his dick engulfed her entire body, a deep pinch of pleasure mixed with pain as she fully dropped down, whimpering as his balls slapped her thighs.

His eyes washed over her body without clothing, a figure more beautiful than he could imagine. Her large breast and brown areolas were made to look at, nipples shaking as he adjusted himself inside of her. Star can only stare at the name tatted on her skin for a moment. Suguru runs his fingers along the skin, gripping as he slams his palm down against it once more. She has no time to react as he’s pulling her hips up, dropping her down slowly, agonizing at this point. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, moaning out as she looked up to her face, blown with lust.

His grin grew into a full smirk as his hips began to move against hers, her moan echoing in his ears as he heard it. He’d chuckle softly at her reaction. His tongue would run along his bottom lip, his hands sliding up along her waist before he’d pull her body firmly onto his own, pulling his arms under her legs as he kept his fingers against the skin of her ass, pulling her up fast, dropping her down slowly. Star’s mouth parted, listening as their skin smacked in contact, eyes rolling to the back of her head as she stuttered, “O—oh my fuckin’ god, Suguru.”

“You want me so badly…fuckin’ hell. Your pussy keeps…pulling me in…” he talks in between her stretched core meeting his hips, skin clapping louder than before.

She seemed to lose herself in the heat, unable to listen as he spoke along her neck, “Oh shit,” pulling her down harder, skin melting together like velcro, snatching away from each other each time he placed her in the air, pulling her roughly back down, the balls of her feet swinging in the air as he was in full control of her. His face moves to press into her shoulder, his teeth finding her skin as he’d bite down along her neck and jawline.

His own face was within the camera now, keeping her lips above his skin so he could still hear every sound falling from her lips. She dug her fingers into his neck as her arms were wrapped around his shoulders, only able to groan deeply from his ruthless strokes, a pain that was so sweet to the touch.

His eyes would glance upwards, watching the way they rocked together in the camera that was still running, his smirk growing wider as he told her, “Eyes here. Now,” Star looking into his dark expression, mouth still open in shock of how good he was fucking her, how deep he was inside of her. She whimpers quietly, “Yeah, yeah,” eyes dropping to watch the monster that halfway pulls out, stretching her every time he shoves back in. Alabaster arousal paints his dick the more he pulls out, Star whimpering again, “Hitting my fuckin’ g-spot, baby,” and he smirks, “Pull my dick in more, yeah, yeah,” her walls clamping down on him, sucking him in like she never wanted to let go.

His teeth clamp down on her neck as he’d continue to bite and suck softly at her skin. He’d give another rough bite onto her, not stopping his hips from meeting her own, a moment of silence almost coming between them, their ears listening as she gushes on his dick, slick noises wavering between their bodies heavenly. He was evil, now taking both of his palms as he locked his fingers together around her lower back, gripping as he pulled her up, harshly dropping her down. The camera caught her entire face. She whined, “Baby,” the sound being captured as he kissed her lips, never stopping his movement.

He’d chuckle, “‘Baby?’ You’re falling apart,” his tongue pushing into her mouth and sliding across hers. He didn’t stop moving his hips, hands now sliding up along her back to tangle in her hair, locking his fingers back together as he has a trap along her curls. He’d groan against the kiss, mouth dominating her own as she whimpered, music against his lips that he wanted on replay.

His hands slid along her back, tangling more into hair as he was now bouncing her down onto his hips. Her eyes were to the back of her head, choking out cries against his mouth, moaning in ways she hadn’t before. Her reactions were all in the arrogance of his expression, her body pooling into his hands as she completely submitted to him. He’d groan again, a cocky expression on his face as he felt her submissive manner, his hands pulling at her hair to keep his mouth against hers. His tongue would slide across hers again as his eyes locked onto her own, a smirk playing on his mouth as his hips continued to rock. He’d pull his lips from hers, chuckling breathlessly as he’d command, “Tell me how much you like this shit.”

“Yes, baby. I like it so much. So much,” she softly cried, “I’m so…” she gasped within his mouth, his hand coming along her throat as he twisted her face towards the camera, slamming her hips down to meet his, “Don’t go mute on me, doll,” he’d tease with a chuckle, watching the way his hand had her face directed at the camera, the force slamming her hips down onto his own causing her to cry out again. His fingers tightened around her jaw, keeping her facing the camera as he whispered lowly, “Finish your sentences, big girl.”

She didn’t even remember, she was so lost within him. She admitted, “You’re making me feel so fuckin’ good…so good, Suguru…”

“That’s such a good girl,” he coos, his hand sliding from her jaw as his fingers tangled in her hair again, his mouth pressing into her shoulder as he’d start placing a series of marks along her skin. His hips would start to rock roughly against hers. He groans out, “Look at how fuckin’ pretty you are.”

“You’re so pretty too, baby…” she whimpers mindlessly, “So fucking hot,” she whimpers deeply.

“You’re gonna make me get a big ego with all of that praise, baby,” he’d tease again, pulling her hair gently and groaning lowly. His hands slide along her back, fingers digging into her flesh as he continued rocking into her, her voice only able to be heard within the camera, Suguru keeping his face directly into the phone as she whined, “It’s already big…”

She probably sounded like a bimbo at this point. Star placed the bottom of her feet beside his legs, placing her hands on his arms, hair falling against her face as she poked her ass upwards, moving her own hips as she dropped down, bouncing as she hiccuped whines from doing so. “So fucking big baby, yes, stretching my pussy—” her voice is high, feminine, dumb. She knew it’d make him more arrogant. She didn't care.

He raises an eyebrow, smirk deadly as he places his hand along her throat, shoving her down to bounce harder as he spoke, “Look at you, bouncing and creaming on my dick like a fuckin’ slut. You look so pretty on camera, baby. Fuckin’ supermodel. Needy ass supermodel,” slapping his palm along the cheek of her face again, knocking her sense down more and more.

His hands move back under her thighs, locking his fingers together as he gains his control back, Star whining louder as he smacks her down onto his hips, a short pain rupturing up her spine, pleasure always overriding it. It felt so good. The camera was now focused on her, his own body not being seen at all, the only other thing being seen was his strong grip on her waist as he’d reply with a breathy tone, “You feel it, baby?” His tip reached for her insides, searching for her soul.

“I feel it,” she cries out, whining like a baby, dropping down onto his hips, gripping for his arm as she pulls it up to her throat, begging for him to squeeze without verbally asking.

He’d chuckle again, shaking his head at her whining, fingers nonetheless tightening around her throat as he added the pressure she wanted. He sees as tears collect in her eyes, mouth drooling as she sniffles out a senseless giggle. His mouth would move up to her throat, panting breathlessly against the area, tongue sticking out as he drags along the skin, “Feel that, doll?”

“I feel everything baby, every single thing,” she gasps, listening as their skin harshly makes contact, “You’re so sweet, baby…giving me what I want…”

“I’ll give you anything you want, doll,“ he’d groan, his hips rocking up to hers as she’d come down onto him, the sound of their bodies slamming together echoing in his ears. He’d groan again, his fingers tightening ever so slightly as he’d mutter breathlessly, “You’re taking me so fuckin’ good. I know I’m stretching you out.“

“Give me more then,” she groans, “Please. Please. I’m begging, baby.”

“You want more?“ He’d chuckle as they continued to rock together, his voice breathless as he’d speak, “How can I say no when you’re begging so nicely?”He’d groan, “You’re gonna have to help me out though, doll.”

“Tell me what to do,” she begs, gasping more than before.

His grip on her neck would loosen as he’d release, moving his fingers down along the center of her chest and towards her stomach, a smirk crossing his mouth as he’d mutter, “Lean back.”

She easily complied, placing her hands along his thighs as she leaned backwards. His hands would slide over her stomach again, his nails leaving light scrape marks along her skin as he’d continue, “Keep your back arched for me, baby. Can you do that? For me?“

She nodded her head, keeping herself more arched, breath shuddering as her hair fell along her eyes. She gasps softly as he takes a hold of her legs, placing them directly on the sides of his head as they were pointing upwards in the air, dropping her down against his hips, dick slamming up to her in a different angle. Her arms shook as she pulled her hips up so they weren’t sitting on his legs, eyes in the back of her head as her body sloppily dragged with him, moaning viciously at his movements.

“You’re such a good girl, Star,” he gruffly tells her, her unruly curls shadowing her eyes. Her plump lips parted as she moaned out, “Such a good girl for you, I promise. I’ll always be your good girl,” she moaned, sounding incredibly insane, she knew that. She still didn’t care.

“Keep talking like that and you’re gonna make me act crazy, baby,“ he’d groan. His mouth came forward, sucking on her nipple before he’d pulled away, a light mark left behind in the place of his mouth.

“You wanna be marked up by me, baby? Leave a couple of tattoos for you?” He asks her.

“Yes,” she whispers, eyes still in the back of her head, “Would love it so much, thank you, baby,” she whimpered, body trembling with every movement he gives her.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty like this,“ he’d groan out, his hands giving her hair a light tug. His eyes would run along her body, biting his bottom lip as he’d mutter breathlessly, “Look at those pretty marks. So pretty all over your skin.”

“Lemme’ give you one, baby,” she begged, “Wanna feel your hair. Love your hair,” she complimented, staring over his beautiful features, the low bun within his hair still attempting to hold up, despite their activity.

He’d chuckle with a groan, smirking at her words before he’d release his grip on her hair, nodding as he’d reply with a breathy tone, “You can touch me, baby. I know you like my hair.” He’d brush a strand of hair from his face, watching her hands as they moved through it, biting down on his bottom lip.

She brought her hands into his dark hair, tugging lightly as she sucked the skin of his neck, eyes rolling as he was still dropping her down roughly along his hips, lips nearly falling off of his skin from the movement.

“You’re so damn talented with your mouth, baby,” he’d groan, the light tug on his hair bringing another groan from his chest. His hands slide along the skin of her abdomen, hips bucking upwards into her as he’d continue to let Star mark him with hickeys, his head falling forward. His breath would waft past her ear, words coming out in a groan as he’d whisper, “What am I gonna do with you?”

“Ruin me,” she gasped deeply, looking into his eyes, “You’re ruining me,” she cried out.

His breath hitches, a groan escaping him again as he’d feel his hips twitching upwards into hers, his expression growing dark as he’d listen to her words. He’d give a chuckle against her skin before biting down on her again as he’d reply with a breathy tone, “I’m gonna make you fuckin’ obsessed.”

“Do you feel good, baby? Please tell me you do,” she begged, kissing his lips softly, feeling her body relaxing in his, taking every movement he gives her.

“Baby, I feel fuckin’ amazing,“ he’d groan, his words being muttered against her lips as he’d slide his tongue into her mouth again, letting it tangle with hers. His hands would once again tangle in her hair, tugging on the dark tresses as he’d pressed her lips harder against his own, his breath wafting out against her face, “I feel so, so good, baby.”

“Gonna make me sore, baby…” she whimpered out, holding onto his hair, whimpers grunting into sobs as he brought them back to their original position, bouncing her up and down.

“I’ll tear your fuckin’ pussy apart,” he grunts out, hips bucking upwards as he’d listen to her whiney tone. He was getting close, it wouldn’t be much longer for him with the way her cries were echoing.

But no. That’s not how he wanted her to finish. He suddenly twisted their positions, his body leaned back against the wall of the bed, her legs now under his as she was facing the opposite of him. Her expression was now directly into the camera. She was almost sitting along his lap from behind, eyes rolling to the back of her head as he angled his dick, pushing it deep back into her, his fist collecting hair as he pulled her back onto him with that leverage, fierce and quick.

Her eyes were to the back of her head, his own expression looking dark as he now held her body against his own from the new angle. His hands would grip her waist, pulling her down onto him as he’d groaned out, his chest rising and falling in heavier huffs as his breath wafted around her shoulder, “Look at you, baby. All pretty and ruined, crying and whining for me. Gonna make you think about me all the time.”

His breath would waft against her skin as he muttered out a low groan, hips meeting hers with powerful thrusts. She was back to crying again, mascara running down her face as her mouth parted open at his thrusts, shocked moans jutting out from her lips, fists tightening along the sheets as she arched her back for him, the angle taking him deeper than before. She was in hell.

“Can’t, Suguru…” she cried out, gasping as she whined, makeup ruined as pleasure raptured along her body. He didn’t stop, continuously pulling her back, her eyes going down as she could only stare at herself in the camera.

“You can, doll,” He’d groan. He then sat himself up, one foot along the bed as he twisted her hair tighter within his hold, tongue running along the skin of her back before biting down on the flesh. His mouth would continue sucking at her skin as he’d groan again, his breath wafting to her ear as he snatched her back, “You don’t have a fuckin’ choice.”

“Babyyyy…” she whined out, looking back at him as he slammed her down onto his hips, crying in insanity for him. She dug her hands into the bed, trying to keep up with him, her mascara ridden face unable to look at her own expression.

His hand would grip tightly onto her hair, holding her in place as he spoke deeply, “Say you like it, doll.”

“I love it. I love it so fuckin’ much,” she continuously whined, keeping her eyes on his that were behind her, her face in her shoulder as she groaned out, shuddering cries against him.

He’d groan again, his nails digging into her skin as he pulled her down onto his hips again, his own moving up into hers as he’d moan his own pleasure against her skin.

“That’s my baby,” he’d tell her, his hands pulling at her hair again, trying to keep her facing the camera, “You look so pretty, baby. So pretty.”

At this point, she could only nod her head, agreeing as her voice was lost, crying softly as she gripped the sheets, trying to keep up with him.

“You’re gonna be mine, baby,“ he’d groan out, his breath wafting into her ear as he’d continue to groan, “You’re gonna be obsessed with me. You’re all mine. Say it. Say it, brat.”

Her eyes were rolled back as if she was possessed, babbling out incoherent sounds as she relaxed beneath him, lazily gripping the sheets, hips moving back and forth by his doing. She groaned softly, “I’m gonna be yours. Obsessed with you. Wanna be yours,” she hiccuped, as crazy as it even sounded.

“That’s my girl,“ his breath wafting once again as his body started to shiver from how close he was, his grip on her hair tightening again, “Say some more. Keep saying it, baby. Say it for me.”

“Gonna belong to you. Gonna think about you. Always think about this moment,” she bites her lip, sniffling as she grunts, “Gonna think about how you handled me. Never gonna forget it,” she promises, voice soft, meaning every word.

He kept his pace going, listening to her words before pulling her head up to kiss at the skin of her shoulder, a grunt of frustration and need as he replied, “Yeah. Look at you,” his hips were starting to stutter. He was close.

“Gonna let me fuck you like this again?” He asks.

“Yes. Yes. Yes,” she promised, nodding her head fiercely, feeling as her stomach begins to tremble, his breath along her neck from behind. He chuckled at her repetition.

He pushed her back down along the sheets, keeping her in perfect view of the camera, his sculpted body only showing from below as he pulled out of her, slamming in harshly as he spoke, “Say you’ve never had it this good,” pulling her face up, having her expression directly in the camera.

“N—never had it this good, baby. Never fuckin’ will if it isn’t you,” she grits her teeth, becoming more wet as she digs her fingers into the sheets, slamming her hips back to meet his.

“Damn,” he bites his lip, darkly chuckling, “Say that shit again. Promise me you won’t forget.”

“Won’t fucking forget.”

“I’m gonna make you fuckin’ crazy,” he strokes deeper, one hand holding her hair, the other spanking her ass as she swirls her hips, “Yeah, show me all that shit you were doing at the club.”

She bites her lip, laughing sultrily as she does so, slamming her hips down as she whimpers, “Like that?” It makes him grunt, spanking her painfully as he snatches her hips back, “Just like that. You’re gonna love it here.”

“Fuckin’ love it now,” she bites her lip, grinding her hips, whining them around before dropping them back down against his length.

He’d groan at the drop of her hips, his body shivering as his own hips started to tremble more violently, his hand would release her hair to slide along her body, tracing over small tattoos along her spine as he’d groan, “Tell me you love me, baby. Let me hear you say it, doll.”

This. She knew it sounded insane. She’d just met this man, and maybe they were speaking so crazy to one another because of the moment. But he had successfully completed his mission—her soul was within his palms, and she wasn’t getting it back.

He slammed her hips down onto him, her mouth lightly shouting as she said, “Yeah, yeahhh. I love you and your dick so fuckin’ much, Suguru,” gasping deeply from that.

“Say it again,” he groaned, his own body starting to tremble, his own release nearing as those perfect little words came from her gorgeous little mouth, “Say it more, baby. Let me hear you say it, keep saying it…say it until your damn voice breaks, doll.”

Her voice had broken. She cried out, “Love it. Love you. Yes. Yes. Yes,” through every connection of their hips, her orgasm ripping through her body so harshly that she screamed, keeping her eyes down as she did so. He yanked her face up, forcing her to watch herself release, yanking her back until she could feel him in her stomach. She cried, tears pouring along the sheets of the bed.

He’d chuckle, his hands tugging at her hair again as he’d groan out again, her screams bringing him to his climax as well, hips still rocking into hers as a groan escaped his chest, “That’s my girl…say you’re mine…” he’d groan, his eyes watching intensely at her expression in the recording as she’d cry out his name.

“All yours, Suguru…” she sobbed mercilessly, trembling through her orgasm.

He moaned softly as his own release continued, his breath wafting out in heavy huffs before he’d chuckle again, his head falling forward to rest softly on her shoulder, his own body trembling from the aftermath of his release. He’d groan again as he’d speak, his words muttering lowly in her ear, “That’s a good fuckin’ girl.”

She panted against him, her body nearly going limp within his arms, his strong hands catching her in an instant. He pulled out from her which made her body tense, twisting her around as he grunted, “Give me your mouth,” pushing his tongue past her lips as he kissed her. She relaxed under his mouth—as usual. She then pulled her face down embarrassingly as she pressed it into his chest, whimpering as she couldn’t look at herself in the camera anymore.

Once he’d finally ridden out his own release, his arms would loop around her, holding her in a protective manner in his lap as he’d pressed light kisses along the skin of her shoulder, mumbling softly, “You did so good, baby.”

She whimpered again at his touch, her body sensitive as she pushed her face farther into his chest, embarrassed to even look at him. He’d chuckle again, his hands massaging comforting circles into her skin as he’d pull her chin over, his thumb lifting her face up so she’d look into his eyes as he’d speak, “Don’t get shy on me now, doll. I was finally getting to look at that pretty face.”

“Don’t be mean,” she muttered, face still within his chest, moving into his shoulder.

He’d chuckle as she’d move to his shoulder, placing light kisses along her hair as he’d speak, “I’m just teasing, baby…but damn, you look so pretty when you whine.”

She smacks his arm, feeling that makes him laugh. She let out a breath as she exhaled, “I wanna shower.”

“I think we could use a shower. Clean up the mess you made. Should’ve had your ass squirting and crying—“

“Do you have a damn off button?” She glares up at him.

His laugh grew louder, his body shaking softly as he’d give a small shrug, “Sorry, pretty. I’m always like this, I can’t help it,” tilting his head slightly as he’d add, “You’re gonna have to get used to it.”

“Seems like it, since I sold my soul to you,” she grumbled.

“Don’t make deals with devils then.”

She narrowed her eyes on him, wondering how much of that statement was actually true. But damn, he was fine. She'd have to figure that out another time.

She rolled her eyes, “I’m gonna go feed Kuromi. Meet me in the shower, dick.”

She ignores his chuckle as he smacks her ass on the way out, “You’re gonna have to put ‘Suguru’—or ‘Big-S’, still optional—on the other cheek next!” Ignoring him as she embarrassingly wraps a towel around her body, speeding out of the room to go to the kitchen. She should’ve finished that damn omelet.

She didn’t even realize her phone was still on the wall, nor the fact that she didn’t have it—but Suguru did. Time passed as they were now in the shower together, Star giggling as he trapped her along the wall, desperately kissing her neck. She turned her head, kissing her newfound quest, handprint pressed along the heat of the shower as she moaned, eyes tightly shutting as he slid back into her from behind.

….She also never noticed as her phone had stopped buzzing. The last text was sent from her, after all.

FROM:

star.

TO:

smalldickbitchassmothafucka.

MESSAGE:

*attachment, 1 video*

stop texting. she’s busy.

#black stories #reading #writers on tumblr #black #getou suguru x black female character #getou suguru smut #geto suguru #jjk suguru #getou suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen suguru #jjk x black reader #black characters #black women

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carmenberzattosgf · 3 months ago

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bearblrpromptober day two: choking warnings: unprotected sex, choking (m receiving)

A/n: I had this up by October 2nd my time but accidentally clicked private post </3

The sight of Carmy’s neck captivates you while you ride him. He throws his head back in pleasure, curls falling over the pillow. Your position on top of him gives you the perfect view of his neck. His adam’s apple bobs in his throat with every groan from his mouth. The veins along the sides of his neck bulge out, much like they do when he gets heated in the kitchen.

It’s almost as if your hand moves on its own. Your fingertips move from resting on his abs, to trailing up his sternum. With your other hand, you press into his lower stomach, giving you leverage to continue rocking against his hips. You watch his face while you lay your palm on his throat. You haven’t applied any pressure yet, not wanting to spook him.

Instead, Carmy’s shoot right open at the feeling of your hand on his neck. He has choked you in bed plenty of times before, but it has never been the other way around. His mouth falls open. You’ve rendered him speechless from one simple movement.

You apply the slightest amount of pressure to his throat. A small gasp escapes his lips, and his cock twitches inside of you.

“This okay, Carm? You don’t have to say yes—j’st wanna see if you like it,” you ask. You haven’t stopped grinding into him, chasing your own pleasure.

“Y-yeah—yeah. Please—want you to.” Carmen’s eye’s are completely blown with lust. The vibrant blue of his eyes is only a thin ring around his pupil. He has both of his hands resting on your thighs, fingers digging into the skin in anticipation. You’ll have fingertip shaped bruises to look at in the morning.

You lean down to give Carmy a soft kiss, which he sighs needily into. “Tap three times on my thigh if you wanna stop, okay?”

“Mhm—tap three times.” His voice is completely shot, coming out as a whimper.

With Carmy’s permission, you squeeze his throat with a constant, stable pressure. His reaction is instantaneous. A broken groan leaves his lips, and his hips buck up into you. You pick up the pace of your grinding to keep up with the thrusting of his hips.

“Good?” you ask through a moan. You’re already nearing your peak. The sight of Carmy underneath you like this makes a heat swell in your stomach. Carmen doesn’t respond, not with real words, anyway. All that’s coming from his mouth are broken whimpers, but his head nods eagerly in your grasp.

A couple of minutes pass, and Carmy is practically losing his mind. His short fingernails dig into your thigh. He’s planted his feet on the mattress to give him leverage to thrust up into you.

“G-gonna cum—c-can I?” Carmen begs. His pulse is heavy in his throat; you can feel it from your palm. You press even harder around his throat at his request, and his eyes roll back into his skull.

“Me, too—cum for me, Bear. Fill me up—” The mere second you finish speaking, Carmy’s cock pulses inside of you, spilling hot cum into you. The feeling inside of you brings you into your own orgasm.

Finally, after you’ve both come down from the high, you remove your hand from Carmy’s neck, letting him get a full deep breath again.

“Holy shit—I see why you like that so much.” He looks up at you in awe, like he can’t wait for this to happen again.

#bearblrpromptober #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #the bear #carmy berzatto x reader #the bear fanfiction #carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto smut #carmy smut #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto fluff

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munson-blurbs · 1 year ago

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Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

Summary: You and Eddie finally get some much-needed alone time, and a confrontation at the Hawkins Preschool talent show tests your commitment to each other.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), protected p in v, fingering, oral (m! receiving), lil bit of edging, broken condom, breeding kink, mentions of Eddie's past, bullying, fighting, Jason Carver's mere existence, mostly fluff and smut before the angst of the next two chapters

WC: 9.2k

Chapter 15/20

Divider credit to @saradika Cutie pie Eddie pic credit to @/sunceddie

You wake up to an alarm set a full hour later than it typically is on a Friday morning, and the extra rest has you walking on air. Or maybe this newfound floatiness comes from knowing Eddie will be arriving soon, the two of you playing hooky from work to spend the day together. Your insides ignite with a rebellious fire, like you’re skipping class to smoke cigarettes underneath the bleachers, rather than taking a paid sick day that you’ve rightfully accrued.

Sunlight streams through the window, just a bit brighter than the usual smears of pink and orange that you normally see when you awaken. And while you still have to drag your yet-to-be-caffeinated body out of bed, the walk to the bathroom seems slightly less daunting.

You can’t let Eddie in fast enough when the intercom buzzes thirty minutes later. You were never naïve to the fact that dating a parent would mean having less privacy; what you didn’t know was how strongly you’d crave him.

Your hands are all over him the moment he steps through the door, simultaneously too much and not enough. Fingers lazily drape across the nape of his neck, and you can feel that his hair is already frizzy from the early April rain. Your breath hitches when you catch a glimpse of the burgeoning outline along the seam of his gray sweatpants.

His lips find yours easily, aiming to meet in the middle, but you press on your toes and bring your core to his. Your pajama top is thin; not sheer, but flimsy enough that he can feel the way you react to the chill of his leather jacket.

“Hello to you, too,” he murmurs with a laugh, muffled by a kiss that catches him off-guard. “I was gonna ask if you wanted to grab breakfast first, but—”

You shake your head, grabbing his wrist and pulling him towards the bedroom. “Sex first, food later.”

“Yes ma’am.” He uses his free hand to apply a quick smack to your ass, mesmerized at the way the supple flesh ripples underneath the flannel pants. Jesus, you’ve got him half-hard and you’re still in your pajamas.

He sits on the side of the bed, and you climb to straddle him, your inner thighs nudging his outer. “Been thinking about you,” you say, tugging his earlobe between your teeth.

Eddie pulls you even closer, one hand snaking up your shirt to cup your breast. He’s still cold from the rain and early morning frost, and his touch has your nipple pebbling. “What about me?”

“Well,” you trill, starting to slowly grind against the tented fabric of his pants. He exhales, a shiver of anticipation coursing through his veins. “I believe I promised my rockstar a reward for his amazing gig.” Your thoughts flit back to the night of Will’s party, when you’d snuck backstage and gotten a glimpse of him, his body pulsating with nerves that had almost immediately quelled at your touch. Another sensation had swept over him then, but that was an entirely different type of flutter.

Eddie nudges his nose against yours, a smile tugging on the corners of his mouth. “Your rockstar?” He adores the phrasing. Yours. Belonging to you. And you belong to him; he won’t ever allow you to forget it. “What kind of reward did my favorite groupie have in mind?”

You slide off of him, giggling at the pout he gives you as your body loses contact with his. “Patience, Rockstar,” you warn him, though it’s difficult to contain yourself when you’re salivating just being eye-level with his erection. Your fingers dig into his waistband, and for the second time today, you’re glad for his choice of clothing. You don’t think you could handle buttons and zippers and belt buckles. Not today.

He hisses when your palm brushes along his hardened length, stiffening even while covered by his boxer briefs. A small wet patch marks his tip, leaking precum, and you press a chaste kiss to it. Almost instantly, you feel the tendrils of his thigh hair against your bare arms as his legs reflexively snap shut like a Venus flytrap catching its prey.

“Too much?” you mumble against his happy trail. While you relish in the thought of overstimulating him, you want to keep him on edge as long as you can.

Eddie shakes his head, curls scratching against his shoulders. “Jus’ wasn’t expecting it. ‘Cause you were using your hands, but then I felt your…never mind, I’m gonna shut up now.” He settles back into the mattress and eagerly awaits your next move.

You don’t make him wait long, lips drawn to his shaft with a magnetic force. You only stop to shimmy his underwear down his legs, tossing them to the corner of the room. His cock is flush against his tummy; you catch yourself staring at the dusting of wispy curls that trail from his upper groin down to his heavy sack.

Your dominant hand wraps around the base while the other leans on his thigh for balance. You lean in and spit, letting your saliva dribble down his length before flattening your tongue to lick up the pearly bead forming at the tip. Eddie’s abdominal muscles contract and his fists clench, never taking his eyes off of the beautiful woman on her knees for him.

He lets out a soft moan as you hollow out your cheeks to take more of him into your mouth. A string of syllables that barely resemble words escapes him. “Mmm, yes, oh, sh–fucking hell–thas’ it…” He twists the bedsheets between his fingers, inhaling sharply as your tongue glides up and down his cock. “S’pretty, fuck, gorgeous girl.” He watches intently, staving off blinks so he doesn’t miss a moment of him disappearing between your lips.

He’d once thought that he could never want more than sloppy post-gig hook-ups in dive bar bathrooms with girls whose names he’d never learned, though he wouldn’t have made an effort to remember them anyway. Girls who had only offered their mouths so they could lay claim to his body; the opportunity to brag that they’d blown Eddie Munson before he got famous.

That was before you, before you’d shown him the intoxicating mixture of longing and belonging, of lust and…

You continue drawing him closer and closer to his orgasm, nose grazing his thatch of pubic hair. His hips buck slightly, but your mouth is so full of him that it threatens to evoke your gag reflex.

“Shit, ‘m sorry,” Eddie blurts out, unfurling a hand from the sheets to cup your cheek. He pulls out, allowing you to take a deep breath.

You shake your head. “I liked it,” you tease with a wicked grin, wasting no time assuming your previous position.

“Oh, fuck,” Eddie throws his head back. “You like gagging on my dick? Fucking hell, babe.”

“Mhm.” The gentle vibration has him twitching, and you know he can’t last much longer. You bring your attention to his tip, sucking and giving soft kitten licks while your hand takes care of the rest of his length. He’s so painfully hard that you wouldn’t be surprised if he stayed that way long after finishing.

“Jus’…just like that. Oh, fuuuuuck,” he groans, silently calling upon every ounce of willpower in his body to keep his pelvis still so he doesn’t disturb the beautiful rhythm you’ve found. “Gonna cum…shit, baby, if you don’t want it in your mouth, you gotta stop now.”

But you do want it in your mouth, so you don’t stop, feeling warm ropes adorning your tongue just seconds later. He’s panting, chest heaving as though he was the one putting in the effort, but he still notices the way you swallow his thick load without missing a beat.

“Did you just…oh, my God. You’re perfect.” He throws his hands up in mock defeat. “I can’t…nothing I do will ever compare to you, I swear.” He motions for you to lay down next to him, and immediately climbs on top of you, the sweat from his chest transferring to your shirt. “Off,” he mumbles, pulling it over your head before you get the chance to do it yourself.

His lips swoop down to your left breast, tongue flickering over the nipple, and his dominant hand travels into your panties and expertly finds your clit. You let out a tiny whimper, barely audible over Eddie’s own grunts, finding pleasure in making you feel good.

“This body,” he mumbles, mouth still attached to your chest, “has me in a goddamn chokehold. It’s all I think about.” That isn’t quite true; he certainly spends plenty of time daydreaming of you, though it isn’t always in such compromising positions. Sometimes, you’re sleeping next to him in bed as he presses gentle kisses to the nape of your neck. Other times, he’ll be cooking dinner and picture you passing him the salt or handing him a serving spoon to dish out whatever noodle-based concoction he’s conjured up. Whatever he’s doing, he imagines you by his side.

“Can you kiss me?” Your request is timid but dripping with need.

Eddie nods, bringing himself to eye level with you and closing the gap between your faces. You taste of minty toothpaste and of him, and he curses himself for diving in headfirst without remembering to kiss you. “M sorry,” he apologizes for the second time that morning, and you forgive him with a soft bite to his lower lip.

Your arms rest on his shoulders and your legs wrap around his calf muscles, desperate to remain as close as possible at all times. No, you can’t stay like this forever, so you’ve got to make it count. “Need you inside me, Eddie.” Your voice nearly cracks, tears pricking at your lash line as the craving for him grows stronger. “Please.”

Eddie musters up a terse laugh. “Sweetheart, I just came, like, five minutes ago. You gotta give me a second to bounce back.” He lowers himself so he can whisper in your ear, “let me take care of you while we wait, hm?”

As soon as you nod, he’s yanking down your pajama pants and panties in one fluid motion. You can’t miss the way his eyes light up once you’re fully on display for him, taking in every centimeter of your body like his existence depends upon it. He starts to shimmy his way down, but your murmured “mm-mm” captures his attention.

“Still want you kissing me,” you say, gazing adoringly into his deep brown eyes. “Maybe you could just use your fingers?”

His instinct is to protest; he’s been desperate to taste you again ever since his tongue last touched the most intimate part of you, but he can’t deny you what you want. He’ll do just about anything to keep a smile on your face.

Without further hesitation, Eddie’s lips are on yours. He braces himself on his elbows as his hands cradle your cheeks. You can feel the heat of his cock, still spent and flaccid, against the top of your thigh. He shifts slightly so he can press one thick finger into your pussy, dragging in and out so deliciously that you barely notice his tongue slipping into your mouth, deepening the kiss as you moan.

“Y’like that?” It’s a gratuitous question; he can feel how much you like it in the way you’re clenching around him. “Gonna make my girl feel s’good.”

“Call me your girl again,” you whine, punctuating the plea with a gentle buck of your hips.

Eddie grins, ducking his head where your neck meets your collarbone and sucking lightly. It takes every ounce of strength he possesses not to mark you. He studies the moisture left behind by his lips and wishes it was the exquisite shades of blue and indigo that form when someone’s been claimed.

He slides a second finger inside you. “My sweet girl,” he coos, just a hint of patronization laced within his deep voice, “you like being mine? Belonging to me?”

Your stomach flips at his words; a gnawing hunger for Eddie Munson. “Love it. I…I love being your girl.” You allow your mind to clear, absorbing his gaze, his touch, his skin. The graceful arch of your back beckons him to move faster, tongue peeking from between his plush lips as he concentrates on your orgasm.

Each stroke within you inches you closer to euphoria. Eddie’s thumb is pressed to your clit, cementing his determination to tip you over the edge. He hits all the right spots, committing them to memory; his own personal pathway to the heavens.

It’s your turn to grab onto the bed sheets like a lifeline as pleasure surges through you. Your lips coat his in a warm layer of “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie,” the praise a victory chant to him. He waits until your eyelids flutter back open and your breathing steadies before taking his fingers from your center and into his mouth, licking your release off of his skin like a delicacy.

Your body may be splayed out on the bed, but your mind is adrift; its only focus is the float down from the high Eddie’s brought you to. If it weren’t for the throbbing reminder pressed to your leg, you might float right into the atmosphere.

You summon the willpower to prop yourself up on your elbows, watching intently as he fists himself to temporarily ease the ache.

“Why’re you doing that when ‘m right here?” you mumble, wetting your lower lip with a swipe of your tongue. You can only hope that there’s some semblance of a smile in your intoxicated expression. “Unless you…prefer your hand?”

“Fuck, no,” he grumbles, curls dancing along his shoulder blades as he loosens his grasp to dig through your top drawer. He shoves aside stray prescription bottles and various knickknacks that you’ve been meaning to go through until he finds what he’s been looking for.

He snatches up the teal box and practically tears the cardboard in half trying to open it. The snake of foil packets tumbles out and he scrambles for them, but you’re faster.

Wordlessly, you rip off one packet and carefully tear off the top. Eddie hisses as you roll the condom down his hardened length, more than ready to be inside you.

“Wanna ride you,” you tell him, pressing your palms to his soft pecs. “‘S that okay?”

“Is that—baby, if I ever say no to that offer, there’s something seriously wrong with me,” he laughs, already laying back on the bed. His hair splays across the pillow, brown curls swirling atop the cotton pillowcase like Van Gogh’s Starry Night.

Eddie inhales sharply as you sit above him, sheathed cock pressed to your heat in anticipation. He reaches out and grabs your breasts, one in each hand, kneading them in his palms. His thumbs brush over your nipples, gauging your reaction before giving them a small pinch.

Your moan, coupled with the way you grind against him, confirms your satisfaction, but he still asks, “Y’like when I do that?”

You offer him a little smirk, cocking your brow as you cheekily reply, “You tell me.”

He doesn’t have time to respond before you lift yourself and gradually sink down onto him, soaking in every moment of the delectable stretch. Bracing yourself on his chest, you feel him bottom out so he’s filling you entirely.

“Fuck, Sweetheart.” His hands move from your chest to your hips as he helps you adjust to the newfound fullness. “So tight. Feels‘mazing.”

“Just wanna take care of you, Eds. You’re so good to me; I wanna be good to you.” You bounce up and down, moving your hips so no part of your walls remains untouched by him.

He’s mesmerized at the jiggle of your flesh as it connects with his, momentarily rendering him speechless before he regains some composure. “You are. You’re so, so good for me. Can never get enough of my girl.”

You clench around him at the title ‘my girl’, earning you a smack to your ass. The sting makes you whimper, and he swiftly delivers another.

“You’re gonna make me cum too soon,” he huffs, blown-out pupils drifting from your eyes to where your bodies are joined.

You pause your movements to lean down, allowing him impossibly deep within you. “If it’s too much,” you murmur into his ear, hoping your edge-teetering tremble is hidden enough to effectively tease him, “maybe I should just…stop.” You slide your hips forward until only his tip breaches your hole.

Eddie’s jaw drops in complete disbelief. “You…you can’t fuckin’ do that to me.” You expect him to push the rest of his cock inside you and thrust until he’s completely spent, so you’re caught off-guard when he pulls out entirely. “All fours. Now.” He emphasizes his request with another spank, this one harder than the rest.

You oblige, palms pressed into the mattress and toes curled as you await him. He taps his shaft against your bottom once, twice, three times, and then plunges into your warmth.

“Ah—fuck—Eddie!” you cry, feeling the telltale twitch that informs you he’s close. Really fucking close. And then another sensation—a soft pop.

He realizes what it is before you do. “Fuckin’ condom broke!” he grumbles, pulling out again—even more begrudgingly than before—and tossing the split rubber to the floor. He opens a new one and rolls it on with lightning speed, eager to be enveloped in you once again.

“Wish we didn’t have to use those,” you mumble, willing yourself to stay steady despite the push from his pistoning hips. “Be so much easier without them.”

Picturing you taking him raw—you wanting to take him raw—is the last straw. “Yeah? You wanna feel all of me, baby?” he growls, nearly inaudible over the sound of his pelvis colliding with your ass. “Want me blowing my load so fuckin’ deep inside you?”

“Y-Yes,” you stammer, feeling that delicate wave approaching the shoreline, desperate to crest. “That’s exactly what I want, Eddie.”

“Keep saying my name,” he orders, wrapping one arm around you so his middle finger lays on your clit. Every part he touches makes you weaker for him, scavenging for the relief of release.

“Eddie, feels s’good,” you moan, legs threatening to crumple beneath you. “No one makes me feel like this ‘cept you, fuck, Eddie!”

You finish around him, squeezing him until he’s spilling into the condom with a primal groan of your name. He stays draped over you for a beat before flopping back onto the bed.

“You are…” he turns to you and grins as he searches for the right word, “spectacular.” He gingerly removes the barrier from his dick, tying it in a knot and tossing it into the trash can next to your nightstand. “C’mere.”

You lay on his chest, the sweat cooling as it hits your cheek. “Did you work up an appetite?” you tease, kissing just below his tattoo of a demonic head, “I can grab us some cereal, or we might have some frozen Eggos I could throw in the toaster.”

Eddie smiles so wide it threatens to escape the confines of his cheeks. “Sex and breakfast? You spoil me, Sweetheart.”

“Yeah, well; we need energy to power us through round two.” You scoot upwards to nuzzle into the crook of his neck, the salt of his perspiration tangy on your lips. “Give me a few minutes, okay? Do you like syrup on your waffles?”

“And butter?” he asks with a hopeful smile, peering at you through long eyelashes that would have had you darting to Bradley’s Big Buy if you didn’t already have a stick of Land O’ Lakes in the fridge.

You roll your eyes playfully. “Yes, Your Majesty,” you say, giving his bare thigh a small tap. “Would you also care for some freshly-squeezed orange juice? I can have the chef whip some up right away.”

Eddie throws his head back and laughs, slowly pushing himself up so he can help you in the kitchen. It dawns on him that he hasn’t felt this kind of peace after sex before; his mind has always been clouded with fears of getting too attached, of saying the wrong thing, of deluding someone into thinking he’s enough.

“God, I love you.” The words tumble out before he can stop them, and he freezes in place, one leg through his underwear. “Fuck, I mean–”

“It’s okay,” you rush to reassure him, noting the red tinge forming on the tips of his ears. “I’d say that to anyone who offered me breakfast foods, too.” You give him room to accept the out, to brush off his confession as a slip of the tongue. There’s no use in awarding merit to an accidental comment, regardless of what your skipped heartbeat tells you.

He considers it, every synapse and neuron firing at warpspeed. Maybe he could convince himself that it was an accident if it was the first time he’d felt this, the way your sunshine radiates through him and warms him from within. But that was far from the truth.

“No,” he finds himself saying, grasping onto every morsel of confidence he can find, “it’s not because of the food. I love you.”

Your voice catches in your throat. You want to believe that he’s reciprocating your feelings, but something nags at you. “Are you sure it’s not because we just had sex? Because sometimes that—”

“No,” Eddie repeats himself, unfolding the waistband of his boxer briefs and walking to you. “Because it wasn’t about sex when you calmed me down after the parent-teacher conference. It wasn’t about sex when you taught Harris how to read and bowl and be a better person than I’ll ever be. It wasn’t about sex when you cheered me on during our last gig, and it wasn’t about sex when I saw you holding Ettie.” He takes a deep breath and holds your hands as he gazes into your eyes. “And even after having sex, it isn’t about sex. It’s about you being the one for me. I love you, I love you, I love you.” He kisses your forehead, then your cheek, and finally your lips.

“I love you, too, Eddie.”

Just five words, six syllables, and he’s a goner. Seriousness melts into a sappy smile as he cradles your cheeks and presses the tip of his nose to yours. “Holy shit, we’re in love.”

You kiss him, tongue nudging his as your torsos meld together. If your stomach wasn’t gnawing for something to eat, you’d start round two right then and there.

Throwing on just a shirt and panties, you lead him into the kitchen before either of you can crawl back into bed. His hands never leave your body, snaking around your waist as you rifle through the freezer for the familiar yellow box. His head rests on your shoulder as you drop the waffles into the toaster and press the lever down.

“Eds?”

“Yes, my love?” he murmurs, pecking a soft kiss behind your ear. You both could have sworn that there was nothing better than him calling you ‘my girl,’ but you’re unashamed to stand corrected.

“Could you make yourself useful and grab some plates? Maybe get the syrup or butter?” you tease, noting the dramatic pout developing on his face. “What?”

“I’m keepin’ you warm,” he protests, sliding his hands over the cotton fabric of your faded t-shirt and grabbing your breasts. “And you’re not wearing a bra, so I gotta hold ‘em for you.”

He eventually obliges, setting two Chinette plates on the countertop and padding over to the refrigerator. He plucks the condiments from the side door and places them in the center of the table.

“Cups, too,” you remind him with a cheeky grin, pointing to a cabinet to your right. “No drinking out of the carton in my house.”

“Bossy this morning, aren’t we?”

The toaster chimes a charismatic ding! as the waffles jump out of their slots, and you carefully drop both onto one plate. “Here ya go,” you chirp, extending your arm so he can take his breakfast.

“Where’s yours?” His brows pinch together in confusion, a sly smile stretching his lips. “Don’t tell me I didn’t make you work up more of an appetite back there. Shit, shoulda had you ride me longer–”

Your hip collides with his in a purposeful shove. “I’m getting mine ready now. Go sit and eat, you horndog.”

Eddie drops the plate on the counter so quickly that the Eggos nearly fly off, pulling you from behind for a hug that squeezes all the air from your lungs. You squeal as he bites your neck and barks into it, solidifying that he has indeed earned the new nickname you’ve bestowed upon him.

He takes one of his waffles and places it on your empty plate. “We can eat together.”

You grab the orange juice from the fridge, giving the carton a shake before pouring the contents between the two glasses. It’s not until you sit down that you remember: “Oh, shit—utensils.” You start to get back up, but Eddie puts a hand out in a silent bid for you to stay seated, shuffling back to the kitchen. The drawer rattles as he pulls with just a bit too much strength, and he comes back with two knives and a single fork.

“You only got one—” you start, but he shakes his head.

“Don’t need it.” With that, he cuts off a hunk of butter and slathers it on top of his waffle, knife scraping against the little squares. He slathers every square inch in syrup, folds the waffle in half, and takes an exaggeratedly large bite.

“Eddie Munson!” you lightly chastise, still in shock at what you’ve witnessed. “Did you just eat that like a taco?”

“Sí, señorita.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “Oh, my God, I’m in love with a barbarian.” You reach for the bottle of Aunt Jemima and drizzle the sticky-sweetness onto your waffle. “What else is going on with you?” you ask, cutting the food into strips and spearing it with your fork. “Work’s good?”

“Work’s great, actually.” He starts to bring the waffle to his mouth but pauses just before taking a bite. Syrup drops onto the plate with a plop. “I almost forgot to tell you! The regional manager asked me to go to this thrift market in Indianapolis in a few weeks—all on the company’s dime—and try to snag some vintage records.”

“Eds, that’s amazing!” You leap up from your chair and lean in to kiss his syrupy lips.

He licks a smudge of butter from the side of his thumb. “Oh, but that’s not even the best part,” Eddie grins triumphantly. “The market just so happens to fall during spring break, and I was hoping you could join us?” His bare foot nudges yours under the table. “That is, if you think you can survive an entire weekend running after Harris?”

Your jaw drops in mock-offense. “One of us chases after children–plural–every day. Besides,” you add, taking a swig of juice, “Harris isn’t the one I’m worried about.” You gesture at his partially-demolished breakfast. “At least when he eats like this, he has the excuse of being a child.”

His reply is a flick of his left middle finger, his right hand busy jamming the remaining waffle-taco into his mouth. “And yet,” he retorts with his mouth full, “you can’t seem to get enough.”

He’s got you there: all you’ve ever wanted is sitting in front of you now, the corners of his chocolate-brown eyes crinkling as he stands. You allow your eyes to roam his body; not with lust, but adoration. Love.

Your cheek yearns to be pressed to his chest, your hand resting where the soft pudge of his tummy barely rolls over the elastic waistband of his boxer briefs. Your legs crave the connection of intertwining with his. You need his arms, biceps strong from lugging around music equipment and holding his son, wrapped around your torso and keeping you impossibly close. Keeping you safe.

You want to spend hours asking about the stories behind the tattoos that adorn his chest, whether meaningful or the result of sheer boredom. You want to curl up on the sofa and put on a movie, absorbing none of it as you spend the entire duration lost in his lips.

The brush of his thumb against your knuckles stirs you from your roaming thoughts.

“Can I ask you something?”

Eddie sits up a bit straighter, hand never leaving yours. “Shoot.”

“Is it…” you fumble for the right words, “why are you like this now?”

“I’m sorry?” His brows knit together in obvious confusion. “Why am I like…what?”

“This,” you repeat, gesticulating at the man before you, warm and tender and completely unlike the stranger you’d hooked up with nearly eight months ago. “Why is the guy who once kicked me out of his apartment currently having breakfast with me half-naked and inviting me on a trip with his son?” Your tone is inquisitive, curious, and Eddie heaves a silent sigh of relief when he doesn’t detect a hint of judgment.

He doesn’t answer your question outright; instead, he poses his own: “Do you not believe that I love you?” He bites his lower lip, mind churning with the early memories you’d made together, the ones he wishes he could lock away and never remember.

Your heart lurches at your accidental implication. “I do! Shit, Eddie, I know you love me. And I love you, too.” You pause to lift his hand to your mouth, leaving the gentlest of kisses along his fuzzy knuckles. “I guess I just wanna know why you even let yourself love me. Why you didn’t stick to the Cat-and-Mouse. Why…why you chose me.”

He exhales, an incredulous huff of laughter passing through his lips. “You wanna know why I started only having one-night stands? Or why I stopped?”

“Both?” you try.

“So, um,” his eyes look everywhere but at you, “I never really got attention until I moved to Chicago and started playing with that band. All of a sudden, women wanna sleep with me, and I don’t have to, like, beg them.” He chuckles and shakes his head. “But they didn’t really want to fuck Eddie Munson; they just wanted to fuck the lead singer and guitarist of Hard Knox. Didn’t matter if it was me or some other random guy.

“One night, I’m…y’know…with this one girl, and I asked her to say my name.” His cheeks tinge red and he swallows hard. “And she looks at me with these wide eyes, and I realized she didn’t even fucking know it.”

“Did you know hers?” The question comes out before you can stop it, but you already know the answer.

He rubs his eyes with his whole palm. “After that, I realized that the only difference between the Eddie who got laid and the Eddie who didn’t was that no one I slept with really knew me. And if they ever figured out that I’m just this big ol’ nerd who spent high school playing Dungeons & Dragons, they’d…” He flexes his hands to make a poof! motion. “So I decided not to let them get to know me.”

“But then…”

“But then,” he acquiesces, “you show up at the bar, looking like a goddamn dream, and I put up that cocky lead singer persona on instinct. Because that’s the only version of me that women ever wanted to be with.” He sighs. “And then I let my guard down, ask you to spend the night, and I’m thinking, ‘I gotta get her outta here before she sees who I really am. Before she sees that I’m not a rockstar; I’m just a mediocre dad who sells weed to scrape by.’”

You move so quickly that you practically knock over your chair, standing behind him and wrapping your arms around the top of his chest. Your chin rests on his scalp, and he can feel the vibration in your throat as you murmur, “nothing about you is mediocre, Eddie Munson.”

He lays his head on your forearm, kissing it softly before lacing his fingers with yours. “Sometimes, I think I’m just buying time until you get sick of me.”

You shift your position so your lips can brush the side of his neck. “I didn’t fall for the guy on stage that night. I mean, yeah, you looked incredibly hot,” you tease and nip at his collarbone, “but I’m in love with Eddie Munson: the man who gets excited when his son reads a new word, who teases me for liking olives on my pizza, who knows the lyrics to every song ever made–including the ones he claims to hate.”

“Well, Eddie Munson–the real Eddie Munson–is so goddamn lucky to be loved by you.” He turns so he’s facing you, strong hands on your hips as he gazes up with starry eyes.

You cradle his cheeks, stooping down so your noses touch. “You deserve to be loved.”

“Yeah.” The word is more breath than sound. “Yeah, I think I’m finally starting to believe that.”

The remainder of your day is spent having copious amounts of sex; Eddie had insisted on ‘making up for lost time,’ taking breaks only for a quick lunch and a shower.

“Come with me to pick up Harris,” Eddie says as he wraps the bath towel around his waist. Water drips from the ends of his curls down to the dimples on his lower back. “We’re going to Jeff and Viv’s after so he can meet Baby Ettie.”

You raise your eyebrows in amusement, bending over to dry your legs. “I took a sick day today,” you remind him. “I can’t just show up there in your car, like, ‘nothing to see here!’”

“I’ll park far away,” he says with a shrug. “No biggie.” There’s a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. “I mean, I could tell Harris that Ms. Sweetheart was supposed to be with us, but she said no—”

You swat at his chest and he pulls back, feigning pain. “You wouldn’t!”

“Try me.”

That’s how you ended up hunched over in the passenger seat of Eddie’s sedan, hiding from any passersby who could potentially recognize you. It only takes a few minutes before you hear the sound of Harris’s little voice, chewing his dad’s ear off about his day at school.

“...and then me an’ Charlie traded me snacks, an’ no one even sawed us!” He’s cackling like it’s the funniest joke. “He had my pretzels and I had his gummies, and it was so silly!”

“Gummies, huh?” Eddie clicks his tongue, “well, that explains the sugar rush.” Their voices get louder as they approach the car. “By the way, Har Bear, I have a surprise for you.”

As he says it, Harris opens the back door and hops into the car, eyes widening when he sees you sitting up front. “Ms. Sweetheart!” he exclaims, bouncing into his booster seat with pure exhilaration. “What are you doing in Daddy’s car?”

“I figured I could see Baby Ettie with you guys,” you say as nonchalantly as possible, a stark contrast to the little boy practically vibrating from excitement, “if that’s okay with you.”

“Yes, yes, YES!” Harris shouts, his words aimed directly in Eddie’s ear as he tries buckling his son’s seatbelt.

“Jesus H. Christ,” he mutters, wincing as he massages the opening of his ear canal with his forefinger. “Take it down a notch, little man.” He fumbles with the belt until he hears the familiar click. He dons a deep voice to announce, “Keep your arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times,” and Harris draws his limbs inwards with a giggle while Eddie closes his door.

“Daddy? Can we listen to music?”

“Mhm.” Eddie reaches for the radio dial, then stops. “Should we let Ms. Sweetheart choose the tape? Since she’s our special guest?” He shoots you a grin that sends a flip-flopping sensation behind your ribs.

Harris taps his finger to his chin in contemplation. “Hmm…okay! Can she pick Metallica?”

“Not quite sure that’s how it works…” Eddie scrunches up his face and scratches at his jawline.

You turn around to face the boy, whose curly hair is now identically frizzy to his father’s. “Actually, Metallica sounds great to me,” you say, adding a thumbs-up for good measure.

“Metallica it is!” Eddie pops in the cassette, the mechanical wheels whirring for a moment before Fight Fire with Fire blares through the speakers. He rests his palm on the back of your seat as he backs out of the spot, tongue poking from his lips in concentration.

Harris alternates between headbanging to the music and babbling about school throughout the drive to Jeff and Viv’s. His energy seems endless as he hops out of the car and races to their front door.

“Har, remember,” Eddie calls out, “we have to be calm and gentle around the baby. Don’t wanna scare her.”

Harris nods as Jeff opens the door. “Mini Munson!” He gives a tired smile, stifling a yawn. “Ready to meet your new cousin?” He chuckles when Harris jumps up and down and squeals. “I’ll take that as a yes. Go ‘head and sit on the couch, kiddo.”

Harris follows Jeff’s instructions, and you and Eddie trail close behind him. Jess and Robin are also there; the latter woman is currently holding Ettie, lightly rocking the newborn in her arms.

“Do you wanna hold her?” she asks Harris, who looks to you and his dad in a silent plea for permission.

“Up to you, Har,” Eddie says with an encouraging smile. “We’ll help you, if you want.”

Harris nods, shuffling so his back is pressed up against the sofa. He squirms anxiously, kicking his feet as he waits for you and his dad to join him.

Eddie sits on his right side, and you take the empty space to his left. “I’ll help you hold her head,” you promise him. “You can hold your arms out like this,” you demonstrate, resting your forearms on your lap with your palms facing the ceiling, and Harris mimics your actions. “There ya go.”

Robin carefully walks over and places Ettie in Harris’s outstretched arms, ensuring that you’re supporting the baby’s head before she fully lets go. For a few moments, Harris just stares at the little girl, seemingly unsure how to react. Finally, he softly murmurs, “she’s so little!”

“Sure is,” Eddie laughs, poking at one of her tiny toes in amazement. “Would you believe that you were even more little when you were a baby?” His grin deepens when Harris’s jaw drops in disbelief. “It’s true! You were the tiniest little thing I’ve ever seen.” As he says it, a lump forms in his throat, and he swallows it before anyone notices the catch in his voice. You don’t need to hear it, though, and you use your free hand to discreetly rub his back in silent reassurance.

Harris purses his lips as he stares at his new cousin, clearly unaffected by the anecdote. “Does she do any tricks?”

His question has the entire group stifling laughter, and Eddie turns pink with embarrassment as he quickly explains, “she’s not a dog, buddy. And she was only born a few weeks ago, so she pretty much just eats, sleeps, and poops.”

“Ew,” Harris’s nose wrinkles in disgust at the last activity, though you’re willing to bet a large sum of money that he’s made at least one poop-related joke today. “So when can I teach her how to play Legos?”

“Not for a while,” Viv admits with a kind chuckle, “but when she’s ready, I promise that we’ll let her big cousin Harris show her how it’s done.”

Her answer placates him, at least temporarily, and he cautiously brushes his forefinger against Ettie’s scalp, smoothing down her wisps of hair. You take the moment to glance over at Eddie, only to find him looking right at you.

Hi, he mouths, though there’s so much more he wishes to say. When Harris was Ettie’s age, Eddie was exhausted, overwhelmed, constantly on the brink of breaking down. He’d sworn to himself and anyone else who would listen that he’d never go through the newborn stage again, but he’s mesmerized by the sight of you and Harris cuddling a baby. He wants this, he wants this with you, sleepless nights and spit-up stained clothes no longer strong enough deterrents.

Hi, you mouth back, suppressing words that ache to spill from your lips. Your pulse quickens at the way Eddie watches his son, not with scrutiny, but with admiration and awe, as though he can’t believe he’d created such a wonderful little human. Teaching children never translated over to a desire for motherhood, but you can suddenly picture yourself helping Harris hold your baby, a baby that symbolizes the love between you and Eddie.

“They look like a little family.” Robin’s attempted whisper grabs your attention; a brief scan of the room shows that everyone else is looking at her, too. Her cheeks flush a deep red and she mutters, “sorry,” swooping in to scoop Ettie into her arms.

An awkward silence hangs in the air until Jess clears her throat. “How was work today?” she asks you, and though you don’t have an actual answer to the question, you’re grateful for the subject change.

“I took the day off,” you reply nonchalantly. “Wanted to catch up on rest, y’know…” You trail off, hoping your non-answer suffices.

“What about you, Ed?” Jeff tries.

“Oh, uh,” Eddie stammers, nervously running a hand through his hair, “I also took the day off.”

Jeff’s gaze flits between the two of you until he finally manages an elongated, “…cool.”

Luckily, Harris is oblivious to the adults’ conversation. “Uncle Jeff, are you coming to my talent show next week?”

“Talent show?” Jeff glances at Eddie with an amused smirk.

“Uh, yeah, ‘s this parent-kid thing at his school,” Eddie hurriedly explains, trying not to trip over his words. He’s still stuck on what he’s implied by admitting that he’d also called out of work. “I didn’t know how busy you’d be with Ettie—”

Viv smiles. “I think he can sneak out for an hour to see his favorite nephew.”

“Robs and I can help out here if you need,” Jess offers to her sister, “as long as Jeff brings the camcorder so we have video evidence of this performance.”

“Absolutely not.” Eddie shuts the idea down immediately, but his protest is drowned out by the sound of Harris cheering.

“Daddy and I are gonna—”

Eddie claps a ringed hand over his son’s mouth. “It’s a surprise.” He looks at you for a moment, bashfulness infiltrating his expression with a timid smile and downcast eyes, and you realize that the surprise is for you.

Harris wriggles out of Eddie’s grasp with a discontented sigh, sliding off the couch and onto thr floor. “I didn’t tell Ms. Sweetheart,” he protests, and Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose as he gathers any remaining patience.

Ettie puckers up her face and lets out a wail that seems far too big for her teeny body, but it serves as the perfect reason to leave. You hug everyone goodbye and give the cranky baby’s feet a gentle tickle before you head out the door. Harris gallops ahead, giving Eddie the opportunity to guide you with a soft press of his hand to the small of your back. Before he's fully outside, he leans in to Jeff, whispering “I told her,” ending the statement with a grin.

“My man!” Jeff grabs Eddie’s shoulder and gives it a small shake. “Let me know when to buy my tux for the wedding.”

“Jesus, you sound like Harris.”

Spending time at Hawkins Preschool outside of contracted work hours would normally be a scenario straight out of a nightmare. This afternoon; however, you’re here to see the most adorable little boy and his handsome dad perform some sort of mystery talent, which makes it all worthwhile.

The cafeteria has been transformed into an auditorium of sorts, with neat lines of metal folding chairs replacing the long tables that typically fill the space. An area at the front of the room has been sectioned off for the performances, and the entire place is abuzz with excitement about the adorableness that is about to ensue.

You spot Jeff and Wayne sitting in the third row from the back and you give them a little wave, bounding over to take the empty seat to Jeff’s left. The smile on your lips quickly transforms into a frown when you see him shake his head, placing his palm on the chair.

“I’m under strict orders to make sure you sit in the front row,” he says with a knowing smirk. He shoos you away, and you begrudgingly turn from their familiar faces, but not before catching a twinkle in Wayne’s eyes.

Soon after you find a seat close to the makeshift stage, Principal Sinclair steps up to the microphone.

“Welcome, friends and family, to our annual talent show fundraiser!” There’s a polite smattering of applause before she speaks again. “Our students—and their parents—have quite a show for you all. First up is Miss Abigail Carver and her mom, Chrissy, who will be performing a cheer routine!”

You clap as Abby and Chrissy step out, green and yellow pom-poms in hand. Your student recognizes you immediately, running over to give you a quick hug that elicits a resounding aww from the audience members. She rushes back to her spot as she and her mother cheer on the Hawkins Tigers in unison.

Next is another student of yours, Joshua Harrington. His dad hoists a Fisher Price basketball hoop and places it on the ground so the two of them can show off their “slam dunks.”

After a few more students from other classes, it’s finally the moment you’ve been waiting for.

“Please welcome Harris Munson and his dad, Eddie, who will be singing a song!”

No sooner do you call out, “Yay, Harris!” do you hear it:

“Freak.”

It’s low enough that no one else catches it; you probably wouldn’t have, either, if the culprit wasn’t sitting directly behind you. You turn around to see Jason Carver, camcorder by his side, poorly stifling a snicker.

Your hands clench, balled into fists, so tight that you feel your fingernails digging into your palms. It’s too tempting to smash his camera—no, smash his stupid face—but you inhale and then exhale for three seconds apiece. Today is about Harris and Eddie, and no overgrown bully is going to ruin that.

Still, you have to bite back a smile at the thought of Jason sporting a black eye, courtesy of the Freak’s girlfriend herself.

When Harris and Eddie take to the performance space, your anger evaporates and your heart becomes heavy with emotion. Harris is front and center, body slightly turned as he watches his dad get settled on a wooden stool and gives his acoustic guitar a tune. The boy dons a black suit that’s a size too big for him, his hands barely peeking out of the sleeves. He’s got on a tie that has to have been borrowed from an adult; you can’t imagine Eddie or Wayne wearing one, so maybe Jeff loaned it. The best part is the fedora that rests atop his messy mop of curls.

“Hi, Ms. Sweetheart!” he says with a grin so wide it likely hurts his cheeks, letting out a shriek of delight when you wave. “This song is for you!”

Eddie murmurs a soft, “two, three, four,” and strums a melody that immediately has your eyes welling with tears.

“You make me feel so young,” Harris croons, mouth right up to the mic, “you make me feel so spring has sprung!”

To anyone else, it seems like a silly play on the fact that he is, in fact, young. You know it’s so much more.

“And every time I see you grin, I’m such a happy individual!”

He’s singing Frank Sinatra. He’s dressed as Frank Sinatra. And you know it had to be Eddie’s idea, considering Harris’s musical repertoire teeters between Raffi and Metallica.

He skips a few verses, and when he does, Eddie locks eyes with you and offers a tiny close-mouthed smile.

“And even when I’m old and gray I’m gonna feel the way I do today ‘Cause you make me feel so young!”

You choke down the sob that threatens to escape as they circle back to the chorus. The memory of Grandma’s final Thanksgiving, consisting of singing along to Fly Me to the Moon and sharing store-brand Oreos, soars around your mind. The way she had so easily slipped back into her old self, if only for a moment. The way Eddie had held you and kissed your scalp, protecting you from a force no one could see but everyone could feel.

“You make me feel so young You make me feel so young Ooh, you make me feel so young!”

The song ends and you leap to your feet, cheering just as loudly as you did the other night at the Hideout for Corroded Coffin. You swipe at a stray tear and force yourself to look at your boyfriend, so effortlessly beautiful in a black t-shirt and jeans.

Thank you, you mouth.

I love you, comes his silent reply.

You gaze into each other’s eyes for another beat before you feel a thud against your legs. Harris stands right before you, ignoring the way all of the other kids proceeded out the door after their performances.

“Are those happy tears?” he asks, brows furrowing in concern as he notices your stained cheeks. When you nod, still too overcome with emotion to speak aloud, his face splits into a grin. “Good.” His arms wrap around your waist in a hug that nearly has you toppling over, and you rest your hand on his upper back to steady yourself.

“Easy, Har Bear,” Eddie’s voice is strong but tender, and your entire body relaxes in his presence. You want to pull him in by his belt loops and kiss him, running your fingers through his curls until you’re both smiling too hard to continue. If only you weren’t at your place of work, if only all eyes weren’t on you, if only–

“Looks like the Freak’s got a crush.”

A smattering of the audience members laugh at this, no one more so than the instigator himself. You whirl around reflexively, eyes narrowing at the smug blonde man behind you. Eddie takes a small step forward, quietly telling Harris to go back with his friends as he zeroes in on his longtime nemesis.

He’s going to hit him, you realize, noting the subtle clench of his jaw and twitch of his flexing bicep. I have to stop him before he does something he regrets.

Eddie’s hand shoots out, grabbing Jason’s collar and pulling him in with a jolt. There’s a soft gasp from the crowd followed by silence as everyone waits for Eddie’s next move. You can hear the scraping of metal chairs on the ground as Wayne and Jeff scramble to mitigate the situation before it can escalate further.

To your surprise–and relief–Eddie doesn’t throw any punches; instead, he grits his teeth and hisses, low enough so only you and Jason can hear:

“Don’t ever talk about her again.”

He lets go with a small shove, and Jason stumbles back just as Principal Sinclair arrives to break it up. While time came to a screeching halt, the whole interaction spanned fewer than ten seconds.

Wayne and Jeff reach him first, guiding him out of the cafeteria. The older man keeps his eyes on his nephew, but Jeff shoots Jason a steely glare, insinuating that Jason had better heed Eddie’s warning if he wants to live to see his daughter go to kindergarten. You follow behind and attempt to keep your composure.

“I’m so sorry,” Eddie breathes as soon as the four of you are alone. “I shouldn’t have…I just fuckin’ hate that guy.” His eyes dance with anxiety, not sure whether to look at you, his friend, his uncle, or the ground.

You take his hands in yours, imploring him to focus on you as you reach up to brush his curls off of his face. “It’s okay–”

Eddie shakes his head. “I ruined everything. This was supposed to be about Harris, and about making you happy…” He takes a step back, rubbing his eyes with a low, exasperated, “fuck!”

“Baby–”

“I’m gonna get Harris,” Eddie starts to walk away, speaking to himself as though you hadn’t said a word, but he stops in his tracks when Wayne puts his hand on his shoulder.

“Listen to your girl,” he says simply, motioning for Jeff to come fetch Harris with him.

Eddie doesn’t dare protest, trudging back to face you. He’d fucked up royally, and he knew it. What was he thinking, putting his hands on Jason Carver in the middle of a goddamn preschool talent show?

“Eddie,” you take his hand in yours and give it a squeeze, “it’s okay. I’m not mad; I just wish he didn’t get under your skin like that.” You rub your thumb along his forefinger. “He’s not worth it, I promise.”

“I just…” Eddie mumbles, thoughts too scrambled to find the words he needs. He heaves a long sigh. “I shouldn’t have done it here.”

You can’t really argue with that; out of all of the places Eddie could fight Jason, your job wasn’t your favorite option.

“Can I tell you a secret?” You press onto your toes to whisper in his ear. “I almost did the same thing earlier today.”

“Really?”

“Mhm,” you confirm, nudging the toe of your shoe against his scuffed sneaker. “And I have a feeling most people in this town would agree with me.” The notion makes Eddie smile, and you continue. “Let me take you and Ol’ Brown Eyes out for ice cream to celebrate your amazing performance. Please?” You throw a puppy-dog look his way, though he needs little convincing.

Still, a nagging thought tugs at him that he has to resolve before can allow himself to relax. “There might be people there. People we know.” People like Jason Carver and Carol Perkins, he silently adds. “It’s okay if you don’t want to…we can just grab a half-gallon from Bradley’s and bring it home.”

You shake your head, effectively turning down his offer. “I’m taking my boyfriend and his adorable son to Scoops Ahoy, and the three of us are gonna split a fudge sundae,” you say matter-of-factly.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Are you sure you’re okay with people knowing about us? Being branded ‘The Freak’s Girlfriend’? Hearing people gossip about whatever the Hawkins rumor mill has churned out?

The sensation of your lips on his tempers the overworked gear shifts in his brain. When you pull back, you’re smiling at him.

“Positive.”

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#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

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puppywilliams · 2 months ago

Text

just to ruin things.

summary: you and ellie’s cant run from your past forever.

warnings: toxic!ellie, mentions of drugs (cocaine), mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of relapsing, angst, implied bi reader

a/n: hi! ive been sooo very busy but heres a little smth i wrote! this might be boring but i need to post </3 also listened to memories by conan gray while writing this if you care

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some stupid party got you exactly where you always ended up. in ellies truck. it made you so fucking angry the way she always swooped in to save that day like she was some superhero, like she was doing you a favor. you couldn’t blame her too much, you always gave in like a lost dog finding its owner.

part of you Needed her to save you, the unfortunate truth you weren’t ready to unfold, its one you couldn’t face in fear of what it might do to the wall you’ve spent Too long already rebuilding, 7 months and 13 days of rebuilding to be exact. you tell yourself you’re not counting, its just an estimate. like this, its just friendly, this is what friends do. they drive you home. you’re not even that drunk, you knew you were getting into her car, you knew you were letting her right back into the place you needed to keep her out of the most.

her eyes were straight on the road with her knuckles around the steering wheel. you looked at her, freckles splatted across her face like god himself hand picked each one. “youre a fucking idiot you know that? all over that guy? you dont even know him. he couldve slipped something in your drink, youre gonna get yourself killed.” she spat venom through the atmosphere, turning everything sour like she managed to do every damn time.

“fuck you.” you spat back. it wasnt worth it, never was nor ever had been. but ellie argued either way.

“what? you still cant handle the truth?” she piled on, it was like a never ending mound of what you did that she didn’t like or approved of, it pushed your buttons in a way ellie knew it would. when you spend enough time together, the memories you’ve engraved into your head don’t expire. ellie knew you like she practiced your coding. every nook, every cranny, every corner, every place she knew and altered as she pleased. ruining you every time without so much as an apology. it angered you so much, for someone who swore she didnt care, it hurt.

you looked down and fiddled with the hem of your dress, hyper focusing in on one thing so you didnt burst like a can of shaken soda, youd been on the edge of your breaking point since you had broken up. so many words you didn’t say, so many words you wish you didn’t say.

“cant speak now? what? have too much to drink? bet you remember that guy you were all over. probably remember him more than you remember anything about me.” she pierced daggers right into your pressure points, only fueling the fire that endorsed your temper.

you took a breath before turning your head to look at her. “you dont have the right ellie. youre a fucking loser. you know that?” you looked right at her. the way you knew she despised when she couldn’t meet your gaze. “i dont Need you to save me, we’re long past that. what i do and who i do is none of your god damn business!” you threw your hands into the air finally letting yourself lose your calm facade, not missing a beat in fear she might cut in and ruin what you know you Need to say, for yourself and maybe its a plead. you dont think, only spoke.

“youre acting like when we were together you didnt drink your ass off every fucking night. sitting on My couch, watching My tv, crawling into My bed pissed out of your mind, you dont have any idea do you? none?” you breathed heavily with tears in your eyes looking Right at her before moving your gaze again to meet the hem of you dress. knowing the battle you say is with ellie, is actually with yourself. its one you always lose. “im so fucking m-mad at you still..i dont need this, or to see you at all…id listen to silence and see nothing but black just to know id never get confirmation you still existed..i cant stand you..” ellie stayed silent, the way she always did. white knuckles gripped over the steering wheel, her jaw clenched, but you see the gloss over her eyes. you see the way she breathes like shes making sure its the perfect rhythm.

you closed your eyes, the silence was so deafening you thought you got your wish, but she opened her mouth proving you wrong and teaching you once again to not get your hopes up.

“you want me to got care anymore? you fucking got it.” she put it simple, you should be grateful but you cant seem to be. its your weakness, and its one you’ll never strengthen, her weight always dragging you back down like a purgatory, but your shackles will never be lifted, so potentially its a sugarcoated way of calling it hell.

you turn to look out the window. “thank god.” you utter under your breath, a chunk of your soul hopes she doesn’t hear, of course she does. “dont ask me to pick you up at 11pm anymore. im not coming.”

she makes a good point, a great one even. one that not even you could manage to figure out if you tried.

“then stop picking up.” its all you say, its all you Needed to say. you glance at the way shes losing internal fight in the torn up seat of her truck.

“you know i cant do that..” she whispers as a single tear falls from her eye. she tries to wipe it away with the knuckle bound to her thumb before you see. “i know.”

“then why? why pull me in to push me away? why?! why do you do it?” you fall silent, its a conversation you hadn’t prepared for, but its a hole you dug so long ago it feels like centuries, but like every past, it catches up to you. its something so long overdue it churns your stomach like a knot in a rope you cant seem to unravel. “what am i meant to do ellie? come crawling back to your doorstep and repeat everything i spent so long trying to mend myself back together over? seeing your face is the worst kind of relapse. its a reminder of what i worked for, to self sooth for months and act like kissing someone else doesn’t still feel like cheating. i do what i Have to do ellie, i cant plead with you, not when youre not mine and im not yours, because just like you. i have no fucking right..” your voice shook with emotions you didn’t know you we’re still capable of feeling.

ellie doesn’t try to hide her tears anymore, its pointless. its something rare, something you so selfishly cherish. its like feeding a sweet tooth that cant be settled unless you have empathy, you crave it every day knowing you never got it. you tell yourself shes crying for You and not yourself, its the fix of what will get you through this conversation, through tonight, and through next week.

“you think thats what i want?” she dryly chuckles before scoffing, using her pointer and thumb to wipe at her tear ducts. you fucking hate it. “you think thats what i want? i want you to be happy believe it or not, even if its not me. but god damn, it kills me seeing you with someone else and you dont even Care.”

you take her words as something thats malicious, but deep down somewhere in your heart you know its just the truth, maybe you’re not ready for this, you might never be. “you made that decision a long time ago. its out of my control now.”

her face hardened and her eyes stayed put on the road ahead. “you gave up on me. you put everyone else and everything else before me, was i supposed to stay?” she breathes out through her nostrils. you looked at her like she had said something outrageous, like it was a life altering claim.

“thats what you think huh?” you scoffed rolling your eyes and crossing your arms over your chest looking back out the window.

she raised her voice, her temper always did run thin. something you didn’t miss. “yeah, it is!” she bit the inside of her cheek and took a deep inhale.

“no ellie. i tried, and thats what you never give me credit for. i tried to help you get sober, i payed for your rehab bill so you could come back home to me, but the first thing you did when you got home was snort a line before you even looked my way. we’re not dogs, i cant lick your wounds and tell you they’ll heal, i had myself to worry for. you put drugs above me, so i stopped trying. i stopped begging you.” she fell silent for what you hoped would be the last time tonight, you watched the way she went to speak but shut herself up.

her voice still appeared a few seconds later. “i know i was an addict, i know i fucked up but you gave up on me regardless.” you looked at the tense expression she had as she drove, not even sure if she was driving in the right direction anymore. as much as you

wanted this to all be over you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“you gave up on yourself. i didn’t even get a sorry.” you said dryly, looking back at your feet. everything seemed to consume you. “well im saying sorry now. and for the record i still love you.”

you wanted to recoil, to scream at her and tell her to fuck off, but you softened. you wiped your eyes, sniffling. “i still love you too, it drives me crazy.”

it was the truth, one you ran from. something you denied to your friends and family, knowing if you said anything remotely to the truth you’d see the way their face morph into an disapproving expression.

“i know ill never have you again, but for what its worth i’m thankful you were mine.” its something ellie never intended to say out loud but she used every resource she could.

you gave in to something she wasn’t even asking for, just something you needed to ruin you.

“for what its worth if you asked me to be yours again i don’t think i could say no.”

“then dont say no.”

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miguelsslvt · 1 year ago

Text

‘give me love’ miguel o’hara soft smut drabble

based on the song ‘give me love’ by ed sheeran.

“give me all of you.” he whispered, playing with the hem of your shirt, his body on top of yours. “your love, your heart, your body.. give it to me.” he whispered on your neck, as you kissed his neck, nodding. “love me..” you whispered back, as you kissed him passionately. his breath and warm scent surrounded you, as you both took each others shirts off.

yours first, then his. he let out a breath, looking at your body. “god, you’re so beautiful.. crafted by angels..” he mumbled, admiring you. you undid his belt, as he took off your panties for you.

“need you so bad miguel.. give me all of you please.” you begged breathlessly, and who was he to deny when you begged so prettily like that? “i promise you, sweetheart, you will get more then enough, mi corazón.” he said, as his fingers played with your clit.

you let out a breathless moan, as he chuckled, putting two fingers in at first. your breath hitched as you whimpered. “sh.. it’s okay..” he soothed. “you know i have to stretch you before..” he whispered into your ear, his warm breath tickling. you nodded, as he smiled. “atta girl.” he said, as he started pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy.

your moans and gasps enticed miguel, making the strain in his boxers even more tighter, as he continued to stretch you with his thick, long fingers. “you okay?” he whispered, kissing your neck as you nodded. “y-yeah.. n-need more..” you mumbled, your mind lost in bliss.

“i’ll be sure to give you it, my gorgeous, gorgeous girl.. i promise..” he whispered to you soothingly, as if he wasn’t knuckles deep inside you.

he pulled out after a few more minutes, sucking the fingers clean as he took off his boxers. his thick cock stood proudly out, leaking with precum, his veins on show. it was always so pretty.

“you ready, amor?” he asked, leaning close to you, as you nodded. his forehead was on yours, as he pushed himself into you slowly, trying to help you adjust to his size, like he always did.

it was always a slightly painful stretch at first, his cock was just too big. but you didn’t mind. you loved every bit of miguel. even if it meant gasping in pain and pleasure as he pushed inside your walls.

“shh.. are you okay?” he whispered, tilting your chin, as your eyes were shut, your breath shaky. you let out a broken moan, as he looked at you. you nodded softly, as he sighed in relief. “let me know when it’s okay.” he whispered.

he was always soft in the beginning, he needed to make sure you were okay. you were fragile, as much as you want to say you’re not, you are. you shook a little, until it was okay, you nodded. “g..give me all your love, miguel.” you whispered.

his smile widened. he started slowly but surely thrusting in and out of you, your bodies rocking in unison. you let out breathless whimpers and moans, that miguel took in with each breath he had.

he kissed you passionately, before letting go, leaning his forehead on yours. you both were panting, as he started to speed up, you were letting out more of those pretty moans of yours that made him just that little more close.

“that’s it.. so pretty- ay coño, m-mi amor..” he whispered, speeding up a little as you gasped, feeling his finger on your clit, massaging it.

you shut your eyes, as he sighed. “eyes on me, pretty girl.” he said, as his other hand moved to your jaw. you opened your eyes, as you both held contact, your bodies thrusting into each other at a quicker pace then before, as you felt your high coming.

“g..gonna.. m-“ “i know, sweetheart.. me too..” he whispered, grunting slightly, losing eye contact for a minute, looking down then up at you, kissing you lovingly. you kissed back, before letting go and moaning. “m-miguel..!” you moaned loudly, your body starting to spasm.

your nails clawed on his back, as your body was spasming in ecstasy, your eyes rolled back, mouth agape. miguel could feel your pussy pulsing, as he fell onto his high himself with a loud groan of your name.

soon enough, he slowed down, pulling out of you. he looked at you, your foreheads touching again. “are.. you okay?” he said, panting as you nodded. “l..yeah. le-lets get cleaned up..” you suggested. he nodded, your hands intertwined with each other, you both staring at each other for a moment or two before miguel stood up.

once you two were done cleaning up, miguel had you in his arms. you were cuddling into him, you both bathing in the post orgasm afterglow. you looked up at miguel. “thank you..” you whispered, as he looked down at you, your faces close.

“thank me? what for?” he said, confused. you smiled. “for giving me love.” you replied, as he sighed, kissing you softly on the lips. he let go, your noses touching still. “you can’t thank me for something like that.” he whispered, as you smiled softly. “i did.” you said, as he chuckled, sighing.

“god, i can’t get enough of you.” he admitted, kissing your nose.

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hannieehaee · 1 year ago

Text

18+ / mdi

content: bickering, some modern family references (just names n stuff), smut, penetrative sex, f reader, riding, tit play (??) idk he just likes ur tits, etc.

a/n: this is kinda meant to be a modern family au based on haley and andy's first meeting so theres some references to the show (just fyi) except this ends as smut 🫡 can also be read as nanny!seokmin and richbrat!you tho

wc: 1370

masterlist

modern family au where you, ditzy and careless granddaughter of rich business owner, incidentally meet your family's new manny!seokmin while sneaking into your grandfather's house for some alone time by the pool. you grab a few beers, knowing your grandfather and his wife probably wont be back for a while when you hear someone clear their throat behind you. startled, you drop the glass bottles on the floor and turn around to see who the hell is in your supposedly-empty grandfather's house.

you're taken aback as soon as you meet his eyes. pretty boy your age in what's supposed to be a place only your family had access to ? you wont complain, but you're still pretty bummed about the wasted beer.

the first words out of his mouth are to scold you. great. yet another person to get in your way just when you're re trying to relax away from your overbearing family. but wait, you think, you still have no idea who this man is.

"who are you?", you question as he leans over to clean up the bottles you had broken (the bottles he broke, if anyone asked you).

"no. who are you?", he gives as rebuttal. "mr pritchet didnt say anyone would be here today. are you alex or __?" he says, cutely tilting his head to the side like a confused puppy, making your heart melt role your eyes.

"im alex," you lie, knowing your sister wouldnt get in trouble for this anyways. "now my question."

"i'm your grandfather's new manny," he replies with a boyish smile, stretching his free hand towards you.

"you're not manny. i know manny and you look nothing like him," you say frowning, knowing this is totally not your uncle manny.

"oh, you're __. i'm seokmin. the new male nanny," he says in a tone that makes you think he mightve meant it as an insult .. you choose to ignore it, instead looking at his arms as he continues to wipe the broken glass. why hadnt you noticed his arms earlier ?

"i'm sorry, but im gonna have to tell your grandfather that you broke glass near the pool," he interrupts your thoughts as he finishes picking up the broken glass.

fuck. you just got out of being grounded, you cant have your mom know you snuck into your grandpa's house again, specially for day-drinking (you're over 21 now, whats the big issue?!).

you panic, so you go for the first thing that comes to mind.

"do you really have to do that, seokmin?", you flutter your lashes at him, untying the top of your bathing suit cover and pushing up your barely-covered tits for him to see.

he looks down, momentarily forgetting what he was talking about, but quickly looks back up. "thats not gonna work, your grandparents warned me about you," he says as he looks away from your chest.

he already bit the hook. there's really nothing to lose now.

you take slow steps towards him, making sure to sway your hips as you do so, placing your hands on his shoulders as soon as you're close enough. "listen. this can stay between us, right? you've already cleaned everything up. there's no reason we need to waste our time in telling him how you caught me off guard and made me drop the glass, is there?", you rub your hands up and down his chest, slowly unbuttoning his shirt while he stands still, letting you continue your actions.

"m-me?! y-YOU broke it! you're not even supposed to be h-" he cuts himself off when you get tired of his talking and decide to just rip the rest of the buttons off.

"listen to me, seokmin. we can waste the next hour arguing about who did what while we wait for my grandpa to get here," you start pressing your mouth to his ear, almost giving him the attention he really wants, but not fully. "or we could go to the guest room and i could give you a little something in return for your silence. wouldn't that be more fun?"

with one more look from him, you find yourself moments later sitting atop him in one of the mansion's guest rooms, bouncing on top of him with your back facing his chest. his eyes were glued to your ass, with his hands groping your hips tightly as he furrowed his eyebrows in pleasure. never would he have expected that the airheaded girl his new employers warned him about would be this pretty and feel this good wrapped around him.

"fuck," he exhales, rubbing his hands up and down your back, ultimately landing on your ass, melding his hands unto the soft skin. "b-baby fuck. slow down."

"but minnie .. my grandparents could be back any second. besides, you're doing me a favour. it'd be mean of me to not make it up to you, wouldnt it?", you put on a sweet voice for him as you bounce faster, also wanting to reach your high as the pretty boy impaled you.

frustrated at not being able to see you, he uses those beefy arms you were eyeing earlier to lift you up and turn you around on top of him, now looking into your eyes as you held onto his shoulders for support. looking at his pretty eyes staring up at you with softness despite the lewdness of the act made you feel crazy. feeling addicted to the way he looked at you, you decided to give him a show.

"fuck, minnie. feel so fucking good," you moaned, dragging your hands up to your tits to play with them, rubbing your nipples in a way that had you rolling your eyes back. "dont you wanna help me, minnie? be a good boy and put your hands on me."

he whined at your words, sitting up a bit and replacing your hands with his. pinching at your nipples, he made you cry out loud and rub yourself even harder, now catching an angle that allowed your clit to rub against him. feeling drunk on your enthusiasm, he moved one of his hands to your hip in order to guide you, moving his mouth to bite and lick at your nipples, making you roll your eyes back.

both your ends approached, now with you maniacally bouncing on him while his mouth stayed stuck to your chest, alternating breasts to suck and whine into. feeling completely cock drunk, you increased the intensity of your movements, leading yourself into a mind-blowing orgasm with him following soon after, his moans muffled by your chest.

you spent the next five minutes softly cleaning each other up and getting rid of the evidence (dirty sheets, condom, etc) before anyone arrived home, all while shyly exchanging glances at each other. it was unlike you to feel shy when interacting with a guy (i mean, you did just seduce your grandparents new nanny within minutes of knowing him), but there was something about his good-boy attitude and soft demeanor towards you that just drew you to him. that, and how easy on the eyes he was.

your thoughts were promptly interrupted by him quietly speaking up "listen, i know i'm probably overstepping and just embarrassing myself by saying this but, i kind of uh. i kind of felt a connection there. i think you mightve even felt it too? would you like to maybe see where this goes? i could take you out, or if not we could start off as friends too, you know? or maybe this again? wait, no. i'm not suggesting that you should uh- but if you want to! i mean, whatever you want! it's just tha-" he continues to ramble, clearly losing track of what his original question was.

just like him, you interrupt his monologue by grabbing onto his face, making him stop mid sentence and look at you. "yes," you giggle. "we can go out seokmin. i'll know where to find you," and with that, you leave him with a peck and a wink as you exit the room, successfully leaving the house before anyone arrived, knowing you'd be coming back whenever possible to get some alone time with your grandparents' pretty manny you were now planning to make yours.

#seventeen #svt #seventeen fanfic #seventeen oneshot #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #svt fanfic #svt smut #seokmin smut #seokmin fanfic #seokmin x reader #dk fanfic #dk smut #dk x reader #dk oneshot

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cowboydisaster · 1 year ago

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could you write a fic about simon and a reader who is going through withdrawals? Sorry if that's not real specific, you can take it in what ever direction you please. Thank you

Hope

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem! reader word count: 2k summary: Simon helps you get through withdrawals, offering you hope in the darkest point of your life. a/n: heed the warnings please!!!! I cried a good bit while writing this. You're never alone my friends, and there is always hope. Always. (p.s. there is a mention of wanting children in this fic, so keep that in mind. p.p.s why does tumblr destroy my image quality, it makes me sad.) warnings: opioid addiction, withdrawals, addiction, emetophobia, illness masterlist

"Si-Simon, I can't do this. I'm n-not strong enough." You whimper, clammy hands gripping onto his shirt with every pathetic ounce of strength that you can muster. Your voice is hoarse, throat thick with mucus and body covered in a stale cold sweat that soaks through your oversized t-shirt. Simon has never seen you so weak, so frail in his arms.

He's seen you take down men twice your size, clear rooms with more than ten enemies. You've faced countless opponents, broken through endless physical and mental barriers, but in the end, the one thing you couldn't defeat was the pills.

If you'd known you were trading your life away when you were handed the bottle, you never would have taken it in the first place.

"For the pain." The doctor had said, "Just until this gunshot wound clears up."

Only it didn't. Before you even realized it, your body was already addicted. You craved the numbness that the damned capsules gave you, the release from the endless pain that singed your nerves day and night. You couldn't give them up. You tried– but the sickness that came when you stopped– you were sure it would kill you.

Simon didn't know what to do. You lied, you kept him at a distance, never fully explaining to him what was going on. He didn't realize how bad it was. He tried not to pry, or to push you, but Simon put his foot down when he found you on the bathroom floor unconscious, a bottle of pills on the counter, half empty. His words reverberated in your ears, a harsh warning that he wouldn't watch you kill yourself.

"You have to get clean, Y/N." He'd said from a place of love, but you couldn't help but crumble under his judgment, "I can't watch you do this to yourself anymore. You 'ave to sober up."

So here you are, a heap in Simon's lap, the both of you intertwined on the bathroom floor as you fight the overwhelming illness that accompanies withdrawals. Everything you've survived: loss, wounds, torture– it pales in comparison to the misery you're experiencing now. You refused to go to a detox center, not wanting to lose your position in the Task Force. You promised Simon that you'd let him drive you to the hospital if things got bad, but you want to do this at home.

Bile rises from your stomach, lingering in the back of your throat as you gag. Immediately, Simon pulls your hair back into his fist, and helps to position you over the toilet.

You dry heave, gagging on air as both of your cold hands grip the toilet bowl. Your wedding band glints in the dim bathroom light, bringing another layer of anguish to your already broken soul.

He shouldn't have to deal with this.

"Easy, love. Get it all out. I've got you." Simon coos as your stomach aches and flips, desperate to rid itself of any contents. Only you haven't been able to eat, so nothing comes up but painful bursts of air. You gasp and heave, collapsing back against Simon and erupting into loud sobs. Your bones ache as you fall onto his chest, and his hands hover over your form, unsure on how to hold you without shattering you even further.

"I can't– I can't! Simon, please! Please. I'm going to die. M' gonna die–" You panic, "I'm not strong enough. You know that I'm not." You plead, begging for the substance that he has already flushed down the drain, your mind refuses to believe that it's actually gone.

Simon's previously unbreakable heart manages to crack, and he wishes more than anything to carry the burden of your suffering. You're his wife, and it's his job to take the weight off your shoulders, but he can't do this for you. He can, however, be with you every step of the way. You showed him a new way of living, a way to do more than just survive. You've shown him love when he was undeserving of it. It's unbearable for him to see you, such a beam of light, in so much pain.

"Look at me, baby. Look at me." Simon holds your face until your eyes meet his. Those chestnut colored irises hold your attention– the same ones you looked into as you read your vows, as you suffered pain, and loss, felt love and lust. They've watched after you through everything.

"You can do this, yeah? You're the strongest person I know. Stronger than any other soldier in the Task Force, stronger than me. If anyone can beat this, it's you." Simon reassures.

Your face crumples when you realize he's firm in his decision. You shake your head, clammy palms coming to rest against your face.

"Please, Simon." You beg once again. Your body is trembling like a leaf held against the wind, cold wraps around your bones suffocatingly, squeezing every ounce of comfort from your being and leaving you high and dry. Pure, unadulterated suffering.

"Come 'ere." Simon whispers, standing up from the tile floor and scooping you into his arms. He hooks his arms under your head and knees before carrying you into the bedroom.

The soft bed dips under your shared weight as Simon lays down with you, his body wrapping around your own like a perfect puzzle piece. He pulls your back to his chest, letting you use his tattooed arm as a pillow. Your sobs quiet down to muffled whimpers as you shake lightly, wishing you could go back in time, solve this before it became a problem.

Father time has never been merciful though, has he?

"Blanket or no?" Simon asks. You nod your head quickly.

"Yes, it's so cold. I'm so cold." Your teeth chatter lightly as you reiterate. Simon pulls the thick comforter over your forms, tucking it in around the edges as he adjusts behind you.

An hour ago you were burning up, stripping off your clothes and sobbing at the heat clawing its way through your body like some sort of fiery plague. He'd put you in a cool bath, checking your temperature probably more often than what was necessary.

You shake and writhe, whimpers and groans of agony slipping past your lips every once in a while. It's killing Simon to see you like this. Every ounce of light has drained from your eyes, the life has seeped from your pores, replaced with the lingering disease of addiction. He misses your laughter, your smile. It could light up a room. You've gotten the boys through many dark days. You were the sunshine of the Task Force. Failed missions, loss, heartache, no matter how bad things got, your optimism never ceased. Not until recently, anyhow.

"We'll get there again." Simon tells himself like a mantra in his head,"She'll get better."

He's personally seeing that you do. He won't allow you the pills to take hold of you, he'll fight. He's seen more soldiers die from pills than bullets. He won't let you meet that fate, he won't.

He can't lose you.

The room is covered with a calm silence, only the sound of your quick breathing to let him know you're still alive. Simon is quiet as well, and you drown in the silence, hoping for any kind of distraction to pull you away from your unending misery. You can feel yourself giving up, wanting nothing more than to slip into old habits. You slip your eyes shut, opening them only once a voice rumbles in your ear.

"I was thinking… when you're better we'll get a bigger house." Simon quietly blurts out from behind you.

A wrinkle forms in between your brows, and you crane your neck to look at him. You're sure he's trying to distract you, coming up with random conversation to keep your mind off of the present. When you look back, his gaze is far away, fixed on something on the far wall. A small smile graces his uncovered lips– he's been keeping the mask off at home recently, you've noticed. There is a light in his eyes, a light that you used to think would never grace the eyes of Simon Riley.

"What? Why would we need a bigger house?" You ask with a small chuckle. He's succeeding in his distraction, you realize.

His eyes flicker down to yours, hand gripping onto your waist as you turn towards him in curiosity. Your eyelids are heavy, another wave of exhaustion coming over you.

"For the little ones." Simon responds.

He says it on a breath. He says it so plainly, so effortlessly, that tears immediately well in your eyes. He's never responded to your questions about children– usually shutting down or ignoring the topic wholly. Your lip wobbles, and he runs his thumb over the cracked skin.

"Ch-children?" You ask, a new sense of hope filling your being. A new reason to fight– to get clean. Children. A family.

"A girl, with your eyes…" Simon chuckles, "Probably with your attitude too."

You laugh at that, tears slipping down your cheeks in landing on his hand that cups your face.

"Maybe a boy. Hopefully he gets your features n' not my ugly mug." Simon huffs.

"What changed…?" You ask, wincing as a wave of nausea pulses through your body. Simon's eyes go wide for a second, and his grip tightens on you, ready in an instant to carry you back into the bathroom if you need. The pain passes and you shake your head, signaling that you're okay. Immediately, he relaxes. It's quiet for a moment as Simon traces his thumb over your paper thin skin.

"A dog, a new house, babies, anything you want. I'll give you anything you want, just get better for me, baby." Simon pleads, a hint of vulnerability tracing his words. It's one of only a few times he's begged you.

"I don't want a future without you in it. I want my wife. I want our kids terrorizing the place, I want to get old and retire the Force with you. Hell, I'd turn in my letter of resignation today if you asked, just please, fight for me, love."

The tears are falling freely now, you don't try to stop them. Guilt fills your being at the realization of everything you've put your husband through for the past few months. Through it all, he's never left your side. He's still here. Kissing closed your wounds, and promising to plant flowers in their place.

A soft kiss is pressed to your forehead before amber eyes peek down at you through blonde eyelashes. You chew on your lip, a bad habit.

Your resolve is set, and even though your body shrieks for the opposite, you'll get through this. You have to.

You have Sunday mornings to look forward to, lazily pouring Simon a cup of tea in his favorite mug. You have a house to buy, with two bedrooms instead of one. Dragging Simon through the shops and picking out all the different onesies he'll let you bring home. You have walks through the park to go on. You have to pick up takeout on Simon's late nights at work. You have to sit on his desk while you share an entree and talk to him until he forgets about the paperwork he's supposed to be doing. So many little actions to go through, little memories to make. You can't give it up. You won't.

There is so much to fight for, so much to hope for, all given to you by the man before you. Tears sting your eyes again as you finally speak up.

"I promise you, Simon. I'll fight. For us, I will."

#simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon riley #cod x reader #cod x y/n #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #ghost call of duty #call of duty fanfic #cod fanfic #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #cod mw22 #cod mw x reader

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naomiarai · 1 year ago

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i’m here in ur inbox with thoughts :]

husband tyun…. ex husband tyun… toxic nasty ex husband tyun….

thank u!!

ex toxic husband tyun is so hot!!

ex toxic husband tyun who tries to manipulate you into thinking that maybe a divorce wouldn't solve the broken relationship, but you ignore him, signing the divorce papers anyway.. and he's forced to lose you

ex toxic husband who's eyes glare at you shaking figure, he'll get you back, and when he does he's not letting go.

single life has treated you average, you can't help think about the way you slightly regretted your decision, should you have talked it out with him? should you have never signed it? you don't know.

knocking on your door at 3 in the morning, your toxic ex husband barges in, pressing his lips against yours biting down on the lower one.

but what's this? you're kissing him back just as much. no, no you really shouldn't!.. but you can't help it.. you miss him so much.. even after how he was with you. he pulls back, hands roaming around your body to strip you

“im not letting you go!, you miss me, i can tell,” he shouts with wide eyes, your heart racing at the sight. “you've not been with anyone else have you? fucking talk” he asks

your mind is racing to find a reason to why you're still standing here, letting him talk over you. is it because of habit? yes it is, he's made you like this, and you allow him too. “n-no” you spurt out quickly.

you see him have a sigh of relief, doe eyes finding yours again “darling...let me make you mine again.. i know you want me too” he says with a rather demanding tone..

and that's how you find him on top of you, the two of you eating away at each other, oh such bad, stupid and unhealthy love. it'll all go back to the bad times again won't it? but you don't care , not right now.

he pushes his cockhead inside your cunt, squelching noises erupting. you moan at the stinging feeling, you haven't had anything in there other than him...or because he made sure of that.

he starts pounding, the noises of skin slapping against skin filling the room, “ah-! hnng” you whine, the pleasurable feeling taking over your senses. “good cunt, good pussy, i'll breed this hole, make it mine, fill you up yeah? shit” he mumbles quickly.

his fingers play with your nipples, pinching at them, causing you roll your eyes back. he leans down to kiss you again, a string of saliva attached when he pulled back. “hah! fuck! gonna c-cum!” you scream at the overstimulation, “that's right, you cum, go ahead! m' gonna fill you up, breed you with my kids! you'll never leave” he grunts cutting off.

n then he fills you up, but he still pounds not giving you a break, he's gonna do that a few more times, until it's morning and he can lie in bed with your tear stained sheets. like always

(im sorry i got carried away at the plot—)

#lia <3 #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #txt smut #taehyun hard hours #taehyun hard thoughts #taehyun smut #tomorrow by together

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exalok · 3 months ago

Text

(car accident)

(from this whump month list; tw injuries and implied previous child abuse)

"—oh shit oh fuck oh shit oh fuck he's gonna kill me he's gonna kill me—"

"Can you get it open??"

"It's stuck, it's fucking—I think something's broken—"

The world is very bright. There's something in her mouth and her head is on fire.

"Wha's borken," she mumbles, and thinks, oh, maybe me. The shouting nearby gets louder, which doesn't exactly hurt but makes something heavy and urgent inside her flop like it's trying to get out.

"Try the other door," sharp, ow, she tries to turn away but everything is too hot and stiff to move, "—oh shit, fine, okay, okay, other door, okay—" and something is crackling—is that her? Is that bad crackling? She doesn't think she should be crackling— "Billie? Billie??"

"'m right here," she says, but the words end up mostly spit. Something wipes across her mouth a little too roughly to be comforting.

"I think you bit your tongue." Oh. Not spit, then. Something else is messing around with her jacket. "You said you could drive."

She messily bats the hands away and says, "Well I lied," squinting her eyes open, trying to remember why it matters.

She's in a car. Okay. That makes sense. Or it will, when she remembers why. The passenger side door is open, and—Rinaldo is scrabbling at her seatbelt, and through the hole in the cracked-up window Thomas is biting his lip and smearing the glass with his dark-stained sleeve, darting looks between her and the road ahead. Or the countryside. There are more trees than she's used to seeing.

Why is the window cracked? Daud just got this car, she can recognize the stupid pumpkin-shaped air-freshener she got him hanging from the rearview mirror.

Why is she in the driver's seat?

Oh fuck, she thinks as Rinaldo manages to get her seatbelt open and tugs on her jacket's shoulder like he thinks he can just haul her from the seat. Oh shit. She just crashed Daud's new car. She just went for a joyride with her stupid fake brothers and crashed Daud's new car.

"'m run'ng away," she says, "I'm gonna live in a hole an'—never come back," just as the approaching sound of a motor quiets down and Thomas and Rin go completely silent.

Well. She knows whose big old boots those must be crunching up the road then. She closes her eyes.

"Get in the back," says the voice she's starting to get used to.

"How did you know we'd be—"

"Shut your mouth and get in the back. Rin. Out. With him."

Rin scrambles to follow orders; muffles his swearing when he jams his knee against the stick shift.

"Billie."

Maybe if she makes him think she's dead it won't be as bad. She tries holding her breath, but her neck and head start to pound, and her temple burns like she's got it up against a pot of boiling water.

"Billie. I saw you talking."

She opens her eyes and glares through the windshield. His hand sticks through the hole in the window to hover in front of her mouth. He's holding a handkerchief.

"Spit."

She spits. Then she stares at the bloody glob in his palm. There's a tooth in there.

"Hrm. Lose all your baby teeth yet?"

"I'm fourteen," she growls, but instead of being intimidating it sounds like she's trying to hack up a loogie.

"Glad to know you haven't completely lost your mind. What's the year?"

"Year of your old ass got fired and had to switch jobs."

"And the president?"

"President Eat My Shorts," she says, trying to sit up so she can climb out of the mess she made and hide in the back of whatever car Daud drove here, but then his big square hand is on her shoulder pushing her back into the seat and she just folds, the too-hot feeling of all-over pain turning to cold sweat, keeping very still. "President Kaldwin, sir."

"It's Daud," he corrects her, but he leaves his hand there on her shoulder, and she doesn't know what that means so she keeps on not moving. "Headache?"

"Yes."

"Does breathing hurt?"

She goes to say yes on reflex, because everything does, but takes a second to breathe in deep and check: her skull tightens like a hand and it makes her lightheaded, but her ribs feel fine. "No. 'm just dizzy."

"Alright."

Then he's quiet for a bit. She sneaks a look at him and he's got the same pissed off face as always, cold gray eyes looking down at her. He probably thinks she did this just to piss him off. He probably thinks she's a stupid fucking kid who doesn't know what's good for her. (He's probably not even completely wrong. What the fuck was she thinking. It just— It sounded like a nice time.)

"Alright," he says again, and turns around, and she jumps up in her seat so fast her head practically explodes.

"Dad—" she shouts and has to stop, mortified, and also in a lot of pain, and that's why the tear slips down, alright, it's because it hurts, it hurts like a motherfucker. "Daud," she corrects, but he's already turned back to her.

He's still got the handkerchief she spit up a bunch of blood into in his hand. "Attano drove me here," he says. Which. Alright. Doesn't have anything to do with anything, but fine. "I'll tell him to take the boys home. Then I'll wait with you for the ambulance." ... Oh. Okay. "He called the hospital when we got here."

"That costs money," she says, as if she's protesting.

"Kids cost money," he retorts. "It's my business if I spend mine on you three. Now stop squirming around, you could have damaged your spine."

She slowly sinks back into the seat and waits for the sound of his boots to return.

#dishonored #writins #billie lurk #daud #too many tobers #i swear i don't mean to write so much. the next one is very short

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adrift-in-thyme · 1 year ago

Text

Whumptober Day 23: "It's gonna get me by the end of the night" + Shadows

Continuation of Day 22

Read it on Ao3

- Legend & Sky

- Summary: Held captive and helpless in the Shadow's grip, Legend and Sky try to find a way to escape

CW for blood and injury; broken bones; electrocution; torture; brief mentions of vomit, possession, and death; and captivity

---------------------------------------------------

“Vet. Vet! Wake up!”

Legend blinks his eyes open with a groan. His body protests its journey back into consciousness rather loudly and he can’t help but swat at the hand gently shaking his shoulder.

“‘M up, ‘m up,” he mumbles, rubbing a hand roughly over his face. By Hylia, why does he feel like he jumped into a lightning storm?

He blinks a few more times, trying to bring his blurry surroundings into focus. But his pounding head makes that rather difficult and it takes a couple of good, hard tries.

It’s dark in the room where he sits, slumped against Sky’s shoulder. Lanterns lend some light along the far wall, casting shadows everywhere else. They illuminate a deadly sheen of crimson splotched sporadically along the stone floors. A heavy door blocks the exit. No windows are anywhere Legend can see.

They’re all but locked in. A cell that was never truly meant to be.

“Where…” He swallows, grimacing at the harsh bite of it. “Where are we?”

Faint memories are stirring now as consciousness slowly regains a full grip on him. But they are still hazy at best. It’s hard to focus on anything with the phantom pain of electricity in his veins. And of course the telltale ache of using too much magic. Whatever happened, he had practically bled himself dry trying to stop it.

“You don’t remember?” Sky asks. Something in the way he says it makes Legend turn to look at him. The Skyloftian is unnaturally pale, even in the near darkness. Blood darkens his tunic in multiple spots and dribbles down from his nose and mouth. A gash runs along his forehead, dipping down to hide along his left eyebrow. And on his cheek there is a cluster of angry, red lines branching upward and out almost like…

Legend draws in a breath. It all comes rushing back now, bringing the incessant ache of his body and mind to a nauseating fever pitch. He swallows down the bile that rises in his throat.

“No…no I remember,” he grits out. “Not-you lured me here and shot balls of electricity at my face.”

Sky chuckles, hoarse and breathless. “Yeah. That’s the…that’s the gist of it.”

Legend shifts and immediately regrets it. The room tilts and his stomach lurches as pain spikes up like shards of glass through his body. He squeezes his eyes shut, fighting not to vomit.

“Are you alright, vet?”

He nods. “Yup. Great.”

Focus on breathing. In and out, in and out.

After a moment, he dares open his eyes again. This time, the room stays level and he breathes a sigh of relief.

Okay, so maybe no sudden movements for a bit.

“I’m guessing the Shadow isn’t here yet,” he says. “Otherwise this experience would probably be a whole lot worse.”

Sky is quiet for a moment. When he speaks his voice is even more hushed and broken than before.

“No, he hasn’t arrived yet, as far as I can tell. But that monster…it said it was going to bring the others here too.” Legend looks up at him, but Sky doesn’t meet his gaze. He is staring at the door as though through will alone he can move it. “If we don’t get out of here soon they’ll have to fight it same as we did.”

“And just like us they’ll likely lose,” Legend finishes, bitterly. “Yeah, okay, so we’ve got to figure out how to escape this place before the Shadow arrives, probably kill the monster that took us both out, plus whatever else has revived in the meantime…while wounded and weaponless. Should be a cinch.”

Sky opens his mouth to reply but before he can voices filter through the walls, harsh and echoing. Both heroes tense.

“Two. You caught two heroes out of the nine that I tasked you with bringing me. Tell me, what makes you think that that is a worthy haul to summon me to see?”

Legend swallows down his rising fear. The Shadow. The Shadow is right outside and they don’t even have some half-baked plan started yet.

“But Master, they aren’t just any two heroes.” It’s the blind now, sounding almost groveling in comparison to the Shadow’s sneering growl. “These ones wield the Master Sword. As you said, they are capable of…”

“Don’t!” The shout is sharp and commanding, like a slap across the face. Beside him, Sky flinches slightly. “Don’t speak the words. They will not defeat me, no matter the weapons they wield. I will make certain of that.”

The voice grows louder, closer. Legend tenses further, steeling himself for what is to come.

“You will remain here. I have work to do and have no wish for you to interfere.”

“What of the other heroes? Do you not want…”

“Leave them for now. These two will suffice.” Legend doesn’t need to see the Shadow’s face to know he is grinning. “Perhaps, once they see their mutilated corpses, the others will simply give themselves up.”

“You know magic, right?”

Legend startles slightly, glancing at Sky. The knight’s soft voice is so different from the domineering, sinister tones just outside.

“Yeah,” he says, slowly, muddled thoughts struggling to catch up with everything, “but I used it all up while trying to fight that stupid monster.”

Sky’s eyes narrow and he gnaws his lip. “Can you get it back?”

“I mean…it replenishes itself eventually.”

“How long does it take?”

Legend thinks for a moment. “Without the help of a potion? Ten minutes at the least.”

The darkness in the room begins to bend and twist, heralding the approach of their captor. Legend’s heart climbs into his throat.

“Okay,” Sky murmurs. When Legend spares him another glance he can see the fire burning in his eyes, determination in his stance. “I’ll buy you all the time you need.”

Legend’s mouth falls open, an indignant squawk escaping. “What? Sky…no!”

They both know what the Shadow wants, they both know what his entrance means. And ten minutes is more than enough time for him to accomplish his purpose here, even with his preferred method of a slow, agonizing demise.

But crimson eyes are gleaming in the shadows now and his chance to argue is gone. A wide mouth stretches into a grin, soft footsteps bring the monster closer. He is in his Hylian form this time and even with his charcoal flesh and demonic gaze, Legend is struck by how similar he looks to Time.

It’s strange staring into a twisted, mirrored image of his brother. Sickening.

“The Chosen Hero” – His eyes find Sky and hold there for a moment, then flit to Legend, pinning him like a bug on a stick – “and the Hero of Legend. How wonderful to have you both here.”

“Your accommodations are definitely not wonderful,” Legend snaps, ignoring the uncharacteristically sharp look Sky sends his way.

The Shadow merely chuckles. “Well, prisoners cannot afford to be picky, unfortunately. Not to worry, though. You won’t be here for too long.” His grin widens, teeth glinting stark white against a backdrop of gray and black. “I would say your prayers to that precious little goddess of yours. Otherwise, your future accommodations may not be too inviting either.”

“So, that’s what you’re here to do,” Sky says before Legend manages to spew another dry comment. “Kill us.”

The Shadow quirks an eyebrow. “You sound displeased with that. Would you rather that I did something else? Possessed you perhaps? Used your body as an unwilling puppet to torment your brothers with? Or perhaps merely toyed with you, causing immense pain but never enough to allow for sweet release? Would that please you more?”

Sky clenches his jaw, eyes flashing. But Legend doesn’t miss the way his face pales further.

“Do whatever you want,” he retorts, tone as sharp as the weapon he wields. “It won’t work. Light always triumphs, no matter how long it takes. Hylia ordained it so.”

“Hylia is dead.” The Shadow spits the word. Sky flinches, noticeably, garnering another harsh chuckle from the monster. “Whatever I inflict upon you, keep that knowledge in your mind. Your beloved goddess is gone. She is nothing more than a girl now, helpless and useless and utterly incapable of coming to your aid.”

Sky’s eyes suddenly blaze with a dangerous light. Legend has never seen that look on his face before. Honestly, it makes him a bit uneasy.

“How dare you!” He growls, leaning forward, heedless of his proximity to the monster. “You don’t know Zelda and you have no right to speak of her in such a way, you pathetic–”

Legend has a feeling the Skyloftian was about to rattle off enough insults to make even him impressed. But he never gets the chance. His words break off into an agonized scream instead, so sharp and terrible that the veteran jumps back from him, vision going spotty from the quick movement.

It only lasts a moment, but it’s long enough to ring in his ears and leave Sky breathless. The Skyflotian sags forward, blood dripping from his lips.

“What was it that you were saying, Chosen One?” the Shadow purrs. “That I shouldn’t insult your little Zelda so? That I was pathetic?”

Sky drags in a trembling breath and lifts his head. That fire is still there, turning the sky blue of his irises dark.

“That’s right,” he grits out, “you’re pathetic. If Zelda were here you would already be long gone.”

The Shadow’s eyes glint. “Is that so?”

He doesn’t move a muscle, not even a twitch of a fingertip. Yet, Sky reels back as though hit, back arching, hands clenching into white-knuckled fists. He screams again and blindingly white lines begin to snake up his neck, crawling toward his face. Legend can see them beneath his tunic too, their unnatural light crackling and bending along his body. Heat emanates from him.

Legend’s eyes widen and his stomach drops. It’s…it’s almost like the Shadow is pouring lightning into his body.

Another moment and it’s over again. Sky slumps, coughing up more blood. His bent form trembles and twitches.

“If you recall, you sustained quite a few injuries while fighting for the girl you now so bravely defend.” The Shadow walks forward. With one, delicate finger he lifts Sky’s chin. “Do they still ache – these wounds Demise bestowed upon you? I am certain that they do now.”

Sky drags his gaze up to the Shadow’s. “You…you plan to kill me by reopening ol-old wounds? Get more creative.”

The Shadow smirks. “I underestimated you, Chosen One. No wonder you were the one who faced the Demon God himself. Your heart is strong.”

For a split second the very air reverberates with tension. Then, Sky’s eyes blow wide as his skin lights up again. His scream is more hoarse this time, cracking and broken. His body trembles and jerks of its own accord as though trying to escape the agony inside of it.

And it’s too much, too much.

Damn buying time. Damn his slowly rejuvenating magic. Legend can’t take this any more.

(He hates himself for enduring it this long. For allowing fear and pain to constrict his throat and paralyze his body while his brother suffers.)

“Stop!”

He scrambles between Sky and the Shadow as though that will do anything at all. Behind him Sky continues to cry out.

“Stop hurting him you sick bastard!”

“Do you wish to die first?” The Shadow asks, a bit of sadistic humor in his tone. “Because that can be arranged.”

“N-no!” Sky heaves a breath. He is shaking more than ever now from the effort it takes not to scream. “D-don’t you dare t-touch him!”

The Shadow looks between them both, a smirk playing upon his lips.

“I will do whatever I please. But since this is such a wonderful show, I will grant your wish just this once, Chosen One. You will have the privilege of dying first.”

Legend gasps. Tears are welling in his eyes now despite his efforts to hold them back. His hands fall, trembling onto his lap. Useless.

No.

He lunges, a cry on his lips, fist outstretched to collide with the Shadow’s face. Agony explodes in every part of him, taking his very breath away. But when his blow hits, he no longer cares. It’s worth it to see the Shadow’s head snap back, blood spurting from his nose.

Then, a smile stretches his lips. He catches Legend’s wrist as he tries for another punch and twists. A loud crack echoes through the room. Legend chokes on a cry.

“Though, I suppose that is a mercy, really,” he purrs, deadly and sweet. “You will be gone long before I begin torturing your little friend. The Hero of Legend, however, has no choice but to watch me tear you apart.”

His grin grows as blood dribbles down to his lips. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure he has a good seat.”

A blast of energy slams into Legend’s chest, sending him hurtling sideways. He hits the ground with a shout, pain exploding up his arm. Seconds later the floor itself lifts, wrapping around him and pinning him there. He thrashes, desperately, but the cold stone merely constricts further, snapping his bones like twigs. Blood fills his mouth and he gags on it.

Sky’s screams echo through the space once more, bouncing around in his aching skull. Laughter mingles with it. The air stinks of bile and blood and desperation. Dark magic blankets everything. The flickering lights of phantom lightning illuminate the room.

He is suffocating in it all. And still, his magic crawls upward, lazily filling his veins. He curses it for its slowness.

Horror and bitter regret creep into his chest as his ears ring with the sounds of his brother’s agony and blinding light blurs before his eyes.

Sky had never talked much about his adventure. They knew he hadn’t fought Ganondorf like the rest of them and they knew he had plummeted to the Surface to save Zelda. They knew he had known the spirit within the sword. But that was the extent of it.

Battling a Demon God with the power of lightning, gaining painful scars from it…Legend could never have guessed.

They all have their secrets – that is an accepted thing amongst them all. Some will never be told. But Legend had always thought Sky had held the least of all of them. Besides, Wind, that is. And now that that assumption is shattered, now that he is forced to watch the repercussions of the horrors his brother hadn’t seen fit to share…he feels an odd sort of remorse.

He should have done more. He should have at least asked.

To hold knowledge like that is torture in and of itself. He knows that more than anyone.

Well, it’s too late to change that now, he chastises himself, harshly. So, stop moping and figure out how to get the both of you out of here before it’s too late.

It’s nearly impossible to focus with the pain coursing through him and Sky’s yells still splitting his skull (though they are growing weaker now…dangerously so; in fact, he would say they’re more akin to whimpered sobs). Legend squeezes his eyes shut and tries to breathe past it all. He needs to think, he needs to clear his mind enough to do something, anything to make this all stop.

Sky’s cries may be dwindling, but they are still sounds. They are still evidence that the knight is fighting and alive.

Legend intends to keep it that way.

That cursed blind took his pouch and his sword and shield with it. Hylia only knows where they are now. He has other items at his disposal, however.

The medallions he obtained so long ago are stowed away in his pouch. But the spells that power them are safe in his mind. Using any of them is a gamble with his magic as low as it still is and at least four floors of stone above him…one he’s willing to take.

He has no other choice.

Legend takes a deep breath and begins to whisper the incantation.

Magic gathers at his fingertips, tearing at his body as it drags him to past the limit. Blood bubbles in his throat and his ears fill with an excruciating ring. Consciousness threatens to slip away but he grasps ahold of it, wrestles it down.

He can’t let go now. He refuses to.

The last words leave his lips on the tail end of a pained whine. There’s a second in which he is lost within the drifting waves of agony and exhaustion, unable to hear or feel or see anything. And then, the world explodes.

Crackling, white streaks of electricity zip across the room, bringing with them the sound of thunder and pouring rain. They charge toward their target and in an eruption of light and darkness, collide head-on. The Shadow lets out an agonized screech.

Legend’s own scream joins his as the spell drags the rest of the magic from his aching body, lighting his very veins on fire. His vision blacks out and the back of his neck prickles dangerously, body threatening to give up and drop into the oblivion it craves. But then he’s back, gasping like a fish on land as the spell sputters and dies out.

He can only lie there for a few moments after the room goes quiet, shuddering and trying to breathe through the pain. It takes all of his strength and then some to push himself upright. The room dips and dives beneath him as he crawls to where Sky lies. Every breath is gravelly and hoarse, every movement agony.

But he makes it. Somehow, miraculously, he makes it.

…and with a pitiful groan, collapses right beside the Skyloftian.

Sky’s hand finds his, still trembling and twitching slightly, but comforting and warm. Legend gives it a weak squeeze.

“Some…some escape plan, huh?” he slurs, blinking up at the ceiling. “We’re both…both over here half-dead.”

Sky huffs a shaky chuckle.

“He’s gone though,” he whispers, every word drenched in pain. “It…it worked well e-enough.”

Legend hums. He’s right. The Shadow is gone, likely fled to some far corner of the earth to escape injury, and the blind with him. So, though neither of them have the strength to drag themselves out of this place at least, for now, they are safe.

And…now that he listens a bit more carefully, Legend swears he can hear a wolf howl.

A small smile lifts his lips. Maybe, they’re even safer than he thought.

“Hey, Sky,” he manages, even as he begins to drift away to the sound of salvation.

Sky makes a small, tired sound. His breath hitches slightly and Legend tightens his hold on his hand.

“S-sacrifice yourself like that again and I-I’ll take out your kneecaps.”

Sky only laughs.

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droughtofapathy · 7 months ago

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"Welcome to the Theatre": Diary of a Broadway Baby

Follies in Concert

FOLLIES FOLLIES FOLLIES. THE HIGHLIGHT OF MY YEAR. THE HIGHLIGHT OF MY LIFE(?)

Last night, Carnegie Hall was New York's hottest gay club as every one of us turned up to weep over Sondheim's breathtaking score, played by a divine 30-piece orchestra. Fifty Broadway actors shared the roles and songs of this wonderful show, culminating in a lineup straight out of our wildest dreams.

Though we were robbed of a Donna Murphy triumph with "Could I Leave You?" due to filming schedule changes, we received the impromptu comedy show of the year as Beth Leavel grappled with a broken mic stand and brought the house down anyway.

Kate Baldwin as another eleventh-hour addition proved to be the best moment of the night. Her "Losing My Mind" will go down in history as one of the most divine we will ever hear. Not since Marin Mazzie has a theatre been so rapt, so silent, so in awe. She's always struck me as a Phyllis, but now proves she has the range.

Jennifer Holliday does what she wants, and what she wants was a smooth and seductive "I'm Still Here" full of gravitas even as she meandered far from the written notes and rhythms. She turned a five-minute showstopper into a nine-minute showstopper complete with a standing ovation to open up act two.

Karen Ziemba led six of our finest dancing Broads over sixty (or even seventy)(Mamie Duncan-Gibbs, Ruth Gottschall, JoaAnn M. Hunter, Dana Moore, Michele Pawk, and Margo Sappington) in a "Who's That Woman" original choreography to a standing ovation.

So many thrilling performances, one after the other. I am deeply in love with Barbara Walsh now, and it's honestly a crime she and Carolee Carmello were so underutilized by only having "Waiting for the Girls Upstairs" (Phyllis and Sally don't get much singing in that number, and it's a tragedy). I need to seriously contemplate the Barbara-Phyllis/Carolee-Sally dynamic immediately.

I am now dead. I have ascended. I will never come back to earth again. But the final tributes broke me. The reveal that Sondheim said in a private zoom reunion that Follies was his very favorite original score. The late Harvey Evans' epitaph. Original cast member Kurt Peterson ending the concert with "hey up there, way up there, what'd'ya say up there..." All of it underscored by Sondheim's brilliant work. I am in tears all over again.

Verdict: My Soul Transcended Space and Time

A Note on Ratings

Full set list below cut:

Opening Weissmann Monologue: Hal Linden Beautiful Girls: Christian Mark Gibbs Don't Look at Me: Katie Finneran and Marc Kudisch Waiting for the Girls Upstairs: Thom Sesma, Stephen Bogardus, Barbara Walsh, Carolee Carmello, Grey Henson, Ryan McCartan, Julie Benko, Hannah Elless Rain on the Roof: Klea Blackhurst and Jim Caruso Ah, Paris: Isabel Keating Broadway Baby: Adriane Lenox The Road You Didn't Take: Alexander Gemignani In Buddy's Eyes: Christine Ebersole Who's that Woman?: Karen Ziemba with Mamie Duncan-Gibbs, Ruth Gottschall, JoaAnn M. Hunter, Dana Moore, Michele Pawk, and Margo Sappington I'm Still Here: Jennifer Holliday Too Many Mornings: Norm Lewis and Nikki Renee Daniels The Right Girls: Michael Berresse One More Kiss: Harolyn Blackwell and Mikaela Bennett Could I Leave You?: Beth Leavel Loveland: Chorus You're Gonna Love Tomorrow/Love Will See Us Through: Fernell Hogan, Olivia Elease Hardy, Nina White, Miguel Gil Buddy's Blues: Santino Fontana with Lauren Blackman and Sarah King Losing My Mind: Kate Baldwin The Story of Lucy and Jessie: Alexandra Billings Live, Laugh, Love: Kurt Peterson (ft. John McMartin's original cane)

#follies #sondheim #transport group theatre #carnegie hall #welcome to the theatre: diary of a broadway baby

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hope-to-hell · 2 years ago

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Winter’s bite. Helmut Zemo x Reader. Smut, bondage, s/m dynamics, brief wounds/broken bones, post-unsnapping. This is a conversation, a persuasion, an attack on dignity and a breaking-open of the hollows left inside those who were gone-then-not. Zemo has some trouble dealing with loss.

—-

Hey, yeah, listen. I know it’s been a while, and I guess maybe you’re not so thrilled to see me but here we are and you said talk, so I’m gonna talk and you’re gonna listen; maybe you’ll find those little tells you’re hoping for. There’s been all this running and hiding and yeah, sure, a little bit of dying— but don’t hold it against me. It’s like this: here one minute and gone the next, which doesn’t matter much because if you’re nothing then you’ve got nothing to worry about, ya dig?

Well. Until everyone and their dog gets unsnapped and suddenly you’re looking at your own shinbones all wet and sticky because you were thirty feet up the side of a building that doesn’t exist anymore. Listen, I didn’t want to see my own marrow and I know you don’t want to hear about it either, but I’m one of the lucky ones. Lot of people were falling out of the sky, you know. They came back but their airplanes didn’t. And there’s others, too: so many of us were in the wrong place all of a sudden, part of the miraculous rebirth for less than a heartbeat before dying in some stupid way or other.

Maybe we just should’ve stayed gone. Maybe then there’d be at least an ending even if there was never any closure, but like. Coming back has been this weird no-man’s-land where I’m legally dead, physically alive, and mentally still five years in the past. So yeah. Maybe bringing us back was a mistake. Z doesn’t agree, but then again he’s real close with loss; he wears it on his chest in bloody ribbons and he’ll tell you no no, nothing personal, don’t take it so hard when he’s stepping on your neck. ‘Course it’s personal, though. It always is with him: he’ll take your eye for a slight, and for losing a loved one? Christ, he’ll burn the world. Don’t make him angry, and for fucksake don’t take from him, because he’s got a long memory and a hell of a lot of imagination in the whole pain-and-suffering department.

So anyway. I’m laying there with pins in my legs and my ears all full of beep beep beep every time my vitals go a little wacky, and this motherfucker comes strolling in with a face like he’s filing taxes— you know, that neutral if I must with just a tinge of murder underneath— and all he says is hmm. No hi how are you, no thank the stars you’re safe, just that look. He’s gonna take whatever’s in his head and let it eat at him until it all comes pouring out, and when it does— oh, it’s really gonna be something.

Like now.

Do you know why you’re here? he’s asking, but it’s not a question, not really. It’s a trap. Not like there’s anything to do but see this through; he’s real fucking good with rope and he’s made sure to get the knots right over the most painful pressure points. And it’s cold; everything he says hangs solid in the air, like he could grab hold of his you were gone, you left and drive it deep, past bone and meat right down to where my heart’s beating hard enough to crack ribs, and listen. Listen. Fuck. I know maybe this part makes you feel all icky but you’re gonna hear it anyway. And hell, maybe it’ll get you feeling all antsy. Maybe you’ll be jerking off to this in the middle of the night. I don’t mind.

I just wanna make sure you know he waited til all my bones were knitted together, all those strands of shredded muscle repaired and revitalized— and I don’t want to see another treadmill as long as I live; I walked backwards on that fucking thing for hours— he waited with the patience of a thousand fallen saints so he could wake me up one midnight with his gloved hand heavy over my mouth and and his breath carrying ice into my ear. You are well, he said, like he was talking about the weather, but you know it’s always winter wherever he goes. You are well, you are whole, but through all those years there was a rift in the world in the shape of your flesh.

So, anyway. Buckle up, big guy; I know you’re desperate to know where he’s gone, and I know it’s more than anger, more than vengeance; you think I can’t see it but it’s all over your face. You’re not as good a liar as you ought to be after— well. Don’t let me get off track here, not when I’m about to get to the juicy part. Now, where was I? Right.

So there I am buck-ass naked— ha— with my knees going all pitted from kneeling on concrete, tied up tighter than anything, and he’s even got mirrors all around because you know how Z is. You know he wants you to see exactly what he’s doing to you from every angle but it’s more than that: this way he can see the effect of every little thing he does, every tiny detail he adds to make sure he’s got you exactly where he wants you to be. If I could move enough to look down, I bet I’d see rice all over the floor, though I wouldn’t be surprised if it was thousands of tiny garnets. Like I said, details. If he’s gonna make it hurt, you can bet he’ll do it beautifully.

Have you ever been fingered by a man in leather gloves? Listen. It’s— it’s a lot, especially when he’s crouched down right there with me, one hand wrapped around the ropes at my back and the other one two fingers deep and thrusting hard. No warmup, no preamble, just the sound of his boots, then that nasty spit-slicked do you understand grief? Have you felt the bile that chokes, or the bruises that bloom across your ribcage from the inside?

Five years. Maybe I can’t fathom it, but fuck can I ever feel it; the next time he moves that hand there’s another finger and he’s got to be spreading them wide as he can because between that and the leather I’m gonna split apart. Five years. Can you picture it? God, I hope you can. I hope you think about it later, when you’re alone and needing to get off so bad. Maybe I’ll think about you thinking about me and him, touching myself and feeling your eyes on me even from another room. Would you like that? Or would you like it better if I was bound, squirming and helpless, desperate for what I can’t have?

Either way, I want this right at the front of your mind: Zemo with his punishing hands, composure in shreds, pulling me apart from the inside and neither of us has any words left, just these snarls and whimpers all mixed together til it doesn’t matter who they’re coming from anymore. He made me come, of course he did; he ripped it right out of me with a twist and shove, every bruise tied together with this bright-burning silver thread.

You know I couldn’t help leaving; we’re alike in that regard, but has anyone ever given you what you’ve needed so badly since you came back? No. I can see it: you’re so full of guilt you haven’t earned, and sorrows you haven’t let yourself begin to feel. But you can take that rawness and put it to work; you’re a good man who got a bad deal and you have to know that. I see it; he sees it.

He’s on his way; any minute now those doors will open and he’ll be there with that half-smile, the one that says I’ve got a little secret; for all your efforts, you can’t find him until he wants to be found. You’ll see him dressed for the cold, rubbing his thumb over the knuckles of his left hand. It’ll look artless, casual, but you know what it’ll mean. He’ll make you an offer— and you really, really oughta take it. After all, I wouldn’t have come here if it wasn’t worthwhile. And yeah, I know you were expecting to have to pry it out of me, maybe reach down deep for those parts of you that you wish you’d burned away, the parts of you that get answers out of tight lips, but here we are. Everything is on the table— well, not everything; there’s got to be something left for later, but I think you’ll find it in your favor— and everything I’ve said tonight is true.

It still aches, even now. I can still feel the stitching along the sides of his fingers, not to mention all those tiny pocked bruises on my knees, all those knots pressed deep, his coat buttons imprinted on my spine from where he fell against my back and let his words fall wetly on me. I will move heaven and earth to keep you here. You mustn’t doubt that. And I believe him, James. I really do.

#daniel brühl #baron zemo #helmut zemo #zemo #baron zemo fic #baron zemo smut #helmut zemo fic #helmut zemo smut #zemo fic #zemo smut #baron zemo x reader #baron zemo x you #helmut zemo x you #helmut zemo x reader #zemo x reader #zemo x you #tfatws

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s0lemnhypn0s · 5 months ago

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(She/he for Angelo)

"W O A H KID! You KNOW, I'D ADVISE YOU BE A RESPONSIBLE DRINKER, YOU WOULDN'T WANT TO DIE OF ACUTE LIVER FAILURE ON JULY 7TH, 12:07 AM AT THE RIPE AGE OF 46, WOULD YOU?"

"Whu- Huh."

"HEY, Don't look all DUMBFOUNDED Twoface! LISTEN! I didn't come here JUST to criticize your alcoholism, SO WHY DON'T I GET STRAIGHT TO THE P O I N T! I'm here to do a little BARTERING!"

"What tha' hell are you, howsabout you answer that before anythin' else"

"OH! FINE, FINE. IF YOU I N S I S T. I'm just a FRIENDLY and GENEROUS MULTIDIMENSIONAL BEING straight out of a HIGHER PLANE OF EXISTENCE, that so HAPPENED to be PASSING THROUGH YOUR ALCOHOL ADDLED MIND ! Aren't you LUCKY! THE NAMES BILL!"

"Care ta' explain how I'm lucky. This is lookin' an awful lot like a door-to-door scam tha' more you talk."

"NOW! DON'T BE TOO HASTY, SCOLOPENDRA GIGANTEA! I'D ADVISE YOU LISTEN CLOSE - I'M GENEROUS, NOT A BROKEN RECORD! I'm L O O K I N G to BARTER with you. You're in possession of something I NEED, TWOFACE. That little piece of IRON NICKEL ALLOY you have would be a MASSIVE LEG UP FOR ME, and IF YOU'D BE SO KIND AS TO HAND IT OVER, I could grant you WHATEVER you want in RETURN! Sounds like a FINE exchange, doesn't it?"

"And why tha' hell do you want it?"

"SHEESH! You ask TOO MANY QUESTIONS, TWOFACE! Don't start LOSING CANINES over what I'M doing for ME, and focus a LITTLE MORE on what I can do for YOU!"

"I don't want shit from you."

"... HA? SURELY there's gotta be SOMETHING you WANT."

"Don't want anything. Now get outtuh my head, let me have a damn hangovah in peace."

"You HAVE GOT TO be KIDDING! Humans would KILL HUNDREDS of MILLIONS to be granted ANYTHING they wanted! And you're just gonna TURN ME AWAY?"

"I am. There's nothing you can give me that I' couldn't get by myself, so get tha hell out. Do I need ta spell it out for you?"

"...."

"N O W ."

"I THINK WE BOTH KNOW THAT'S NOT TRUE, A N G E L O M A R O T T A."

"I CAN GET YOU ANYTHING, ANYTHING YOU WANT IN YOUR ENTIRE MISERABLE WORLD! YOU WANT THAT LANKY LITTLE MOPPET MISAE BACK IN YOUR LIFE? YOU WANT HIM TO FORGIVE YOU FOR E V E R Y T H I N G YOU DID TO HIM? OR MAYBE EVEN YOU WANT YOUR OLD DRINKING BUDDY TO COME CRAWLING BACK TO YOU? OH! BUT WHO ARE YOU KIDDING, SHE WAS MORE THAN A ROOMIE, WASN'T SHE? THAT'S WHY SHE HAD TO RUN AWAY FROM YOUR SUFFOCATING, IRRITATING, DISEASE RIDDEN SELF, I S N T I T ? OR MAYBE YOU WANT YOUR DEARLY DEPARTED MOTHER TO RETURN TO LIFE? NOTHINGS OUT OF MY CAPABILITIES KID! YOU'D BE LOSING THE CHANCE OF A LIFETIME."

"YOU'VE FORGOTTEN HER VOICE AFTER ALL THESE YEARS, HAVEN'T YOU?"

"H A V E N ' T Y O U ?"

"..."

"Hey. HEY, TWOFACE. DON'T IGNORE SOMEONE TRYING TO TALK TO YOU!"

"..."

"Alright, ALRIGHT. Maybe we got off on the wrong foot, BUT LISTEN! I- What are you even LOOKING FOR?"

"... THATS IT? WHAT, YOU THINK YOU'RE GONNA HURT ME WITH THAT CHILDS TOY? DID YOU MISS THE PART WHERE I SAID I WAS FROM A- HEY. WAIT- WAIT, WAIT, WAIT! YOU DON'T WANNA DO THAT KID, YOU---"

So I scribbled this short comic with no planning or pencil sketching. Just pens acrylic markers and a dream. There's SO much I'd change about this, but I went in w/o any planning whatsoever so thats to be expected. Wish I drew Angie clutching her throat when he woke up but what can ya do. I highly recommend writing Bill meeting your ocs. Its fun as all get out

(small amount of context as to why bill got upset pretty quick: he was grasping at straws and the thing he wants out of angelo is a second to last resort)

btw angelo is a character in my comic project. if you care

#gravity falls #bill cipher #original character #oc art #fanart #bill cipher fanart #comic #comic project

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roseverdict · 7 months ago

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Mechanize, Mobilize, (Un)Mythicize (also i am not really vibing with the title and kinda wanna change it at some point)

Chapter 3: The Capture of Some City In Ohio

Alexis "Alexcrafter28" Hayward has just been made aware that the world is now becoming an apocalypse movie. Now she just needs to get her sisters and her laptop full of stick figures out of the house and somewhere their dad can find them again without getting captured by the evil robots. No pressure!

Meanwhile, Stephen Hayward finds himself surrounded by the robot uprising and unable to make sure his daughters are okay. Understandably, he blows his stack. In doing so, however, he ends up rescuing a small family of three, and all four of them are there to see some kind of stick figure animation, of all things, hijack every screen in sight. Surely the concept of programs in the forms of cartoons is just as foreign to the family of three as it is to Stephen. Surely the other father isn't keenly feeling the absence of a rainbow of sticks that he was forced to leave behind.

〜

lmao mecha apocalypse au i lovingly named the sti-fi au over a year ago @ me yesterday:

hahaha. it's uhhhhh. it's been a while hasn't it? lmao i got jostled out of my groove with a lot of my fanon worldbuilding when we got Wanted and then also The Box, which threw me off long enough for ninja turtles to infiltrate my brain.

i now have multiple tmnt-stickfigure xovers rattling around in my brain and having a blast, ntm straight-up turtle fic. i am playing with the canon teetleverse like bionicles. <3

i was browsing the ao3 subreddit recently, though, and one of the posts was asking what our favorite compliments we've gotten are. that got me to go back and reread a lot of the comments i've gotten, and i figured i'd go back and reread some of the stuff i've got posted, too.

welcome one and all to ava/m fixation 3: this time i'm really losing my mind i swear

now featuring "actually i'm keeping most of my worldbuilding and unless i can figure out a way to add it in later, we will be operating like vic really didn't make it out of ava 1"!

BRIEF MENTION OF VOMIT. nothing in detail, just a one-off remark by a harried teenager's internal narration about how it was a thing that happened recently

〜

Alexis Hayward licked her dry lips and slid the laptop, its charger, and its mouse into her backpack with a change of clothes and what would have been her school lunch.

Thank goodness she'd thrown up last night. She couldn't go back to school until more than 24 hours after she'd puked, but her lunch had already been pre-packed.

She'd woken up feeling better, too, which was a plus if the world was really ending.

She crept to her sisters' room and snuck inside, hissing, "We gotta get outta here!"

Vicki and Nicki looked at her worriedly, but (smartly) didn't loudly ask her what was going on.

Alexis just tiptoed to their bedroom window and carefully pointed outside in explanation.

A few blocks away, the giant robots that Alexis had seen through her bedroom window were slowly and steadily getting closer to the house. People's houses were getting broken into, and as she watched, more of their neighbors were pushed out into the street.

The twins followed her and peeked out at the carnage, only to flinch back down and away from the window.

Swallowing down her fear so her sisters wouldn't worry, Alexis forced on a weak smile. "Here's the plan. The evil robots haven't gotten to us yet, but they're gonna soon. Vicki, go grab stuff from the pantry that we can open with just our hands. Nicki, go get our waterbottles and those filter thingies Dad got for when we go camping. I've got nice programs on my computer that're hiding from the mean ones, so I'm gonna grab Dad's fancy solar panel charger bag so I can keep my laptop turned on, and we can put the food and stuff in the bag part. Meet back here so we can get away together, okay?"

"Got it!" whispered Vicki as she scurried away.

Nicki nodded with enough force to make her whole body bounce a little, then ran off after Vicki.

Alexis slumped as soon as the two of them were out of sight, then headed for Dad's room, pulled her phone from her pocket, and dialed Dad. Surprisingly, she managed to get through.

Dad's voice was panicked, and it was almost drowned out by the noise of the robots on his end causing chaos, but he sounded unhurt. "Alexis?! Alexis, sweetie, are you and your sisters okay?!"

"We are for now, Dad," Alexis said, a small smile on her face as she slung the charger bag over the top of her backpack. "I saw the robots coming, but they're not here yet. I've got the twins getting food and water, and I'm grabbing your solar bag if that's okay. I'm gonna try and get us to-"

"Don't say over the phone," Dad interrupted. "I don't want these things finding you."

"Wh-? But how are you gonna find us?" Alexis pressed.

"You're going to your castle, aren't you?" asked Dad knowingly.

"I haven't called it that since I was, like, seven!" protested Alexis. Then, begrudgingly, "…but, yeah, somewhere around there."

"Then that's where I'll look for you," Dad said simply. "I love you, Princess. Your sisters, too. I love you all with my whole heart."

Alexis swallowed down the lump in her throat. "Love you too, Dad."

A high-pitched scream pierced the air, and Alexis jolted, her phone falling from her hand. "Nicki-?!"

Dad's voice rose fearfully, but the phone was the least of Alexis's worries as she sprinted from the twins' room to find one of the giant robots holding Nicki up by the arm.

Alexis saw red.

"LET HER GO!"

She charged the robot, grabbing the first thing in her way and chucking it at the monster holding her sister.

The mostly-full water bottle- one of the big ones the size of multiple milk jugs that Dad had gotten for his office- slammed into the robot, splashing water everywhere and making the robot freeze up.

Alexis jumped up and grabbed Nicki, tugging her free as lightning started sparking around the machine. "You okay?"

"Mm-hmm," Nicki sniffled. She held out the bag Dad kept the filters in. "I got the filter straws, but I was filling the big bottle when it got me."

"You did good, Tiny," Alexis assured. "Let's go grab Teeny and get out of here, okay?"

Nicki gave her a wobbly smile and a nod, and Alexis took her hand and sped for the pantry. Before they reached it, though, Vicki burst out and tackled Nicki in a hug that was quickly returned.

Alexis scanned Vicki for injuries, and only once she found none did she turn to inspect the piles of food Vicki had made in the pantry.

Unfortunately, she didn't get the time to actually look at them.

There came heavy, metallic footsteps, and Alexis just shoved the closest things into Dad's solar bag before dragging the twins away from the sound. "Gotta be super-quiet, okay? Let's get going!"

Her sisters nodded, and Alexis cracked open the kitchen window.

When no robots came charging after them from either side, she boosted Nicki over the side, then Vicki.

Still nothing.

Alexis climbed out herself and eased the window shut.

Still nothing.

Alexis dug into her pocket for her phone so she could pull up a map, but her heart sank as she realized where she'd dropped it and why.

"Guess we're doing this the old-fashioned way," she muttered.

Vicki looked up at her. "Hm?"

"C'mon, let's get to the park," Alexis said. "Dad'll find us if we go there."

〜

Stephen pressed himself flat against the wall, willing the robots to overlook him and move past the darkened alleyway he'd hidden in.

Much to his surprise…they did.

He allowed himself a moment to breathe as they passed him by, then slunk further into the shadows. He intended to turn tail and run for home-

The vibration of his phone nearly made him yelp in surprise, but when he dug it out to look-

Incoming Call: Alexis

Immediately, he accepted the call and brought the phone up to his ear. "Alexis?! Alexis, sweetie, are you and your sisters okay?!"

Alexis's voice was distorted slightly, as if the connection wanted to drop, but she sounded unhurt. "We are for now, Dad. I saw the robots coming, but they're not here yet. I've got the twins getting food and water, and I'm grabbing your solar bag if that's okay. I'm gonna try and get us to-"

"Don't say over the phone," Stephen cautioned. "I don't want these things finding you."

"Wh-? But how are you gonna find us?"

Stephen stifled a chuckle. "You're going to your castle, aren't you?"

Alexis's voice took on the Trademark Teenaged 'More Mature Than That' Tone that everyone seemed to get once they hit thirteen. "I haven't called it that since I was, like, seven!"

Stephen waited a beat.

"…but, yeah, somewhere around there," she eventually admitted.

Stephen let himself smile at that. "Then that's where I'll look for you. I love you, Princess. Your sisters, too. I love you all with my whole heart."

Alexis's voice was thick. "Love you too, Dad."

Before Stephen could tell her that he'd meet the three of them as soon as he could, a distant, high-pitched scream burst from the speaker.

"Nicki-?!"

"Alexis, what's going on?!" Stephen asked, pressing the phone tighter to his ear.

The only response was a loud clatter and quieting footsteps.

"Alexis? Alexis!" Stephen's grip on the phone grew white-knuckled, but Alexis didn't say anything more.

To him, anyway.

Far enough away that the phone could barely pick it up, Alexis's voice let loose an angry scream before falling silent.

Stephen's eye twitched.

"You there! Human! You will come with us!" ordered one of the robots, stepping into the alleyway.

Stephen calmly stood tall and pocketed his phone.

He calmly took a deep breath, and he calmly let it out.

He took in the sight of the approaching mech.

Calmly.

And then, the moment it got close enough to reach him, Stephen put his head down, braced his shoulder, and charged.

Whoever had designed the mechs had made them top-heavy, and almost cartoonishly so; one hard hit to its lower half sent it crashing unceremoniously to the ground. Not one to let an opportunity get away, with the adrenaline coursing through him and the thought of what might be happening to his daughters to fuel him, Stephen slammed a foot down on the mech's massive chest and yanked at its arm.

With a spark from the mech's shoulder and a silent scream from Stephen's, the arm tore away.

He hefted the thing up and flipped it around, pointing the glowing end at the center of the mech's chest with one hand and grabbing at some of the now-loose wires in the arm with the other. "Say g'night, Tin Man!"

He fumbled with the wires for a moment, then the loose ends connected, the arm whined, and a blast of energy tore through the mech, the heat of it passing dangerously close to his shoe before the kickback knocked him away.

Luckily, the mech lay there limply as he lurched back to his feet, and a quick look told him he'd melted clean through most of its inner workings.

Unluckily, the noise had drawn the attention of the other mechs in the area, diverting their attention from capturing other humans and focusing them all on him.

Stephen scowled and shifted his grip on the robot arm. "You want some, too?!"

What came next was a red-tinted blur. Vaguely, Stephen wondered if he'd remember any of this later on down the line when it was all dodge duck run shoot duck jump run dodge duck duck shoot dodge shoot shoot shoot-

He zeroed in on the robots dragging a man, a woman, and a small child apart, then descended on the scene with the fury of a thousand suns, leaving the family to reunite as he chased after the mechs.

…wait.

Stephen blinked, registering the fact that the robots were running.

From him.

To be fair, he reasoned as he realized he was splattered in oil from top to bottom, he might have just gone a little bit off the deep end. On the other hand, if the robots were only faking fear, they were likely going to try and lead him into a trap.

Either way, there were more important things to do now than go on a suicide mission.

He wiped some of the oil from his face and turned back to look at the family of three. "Sorry you had to see me like that."

"Are you kidding?!" burst the child, a girl with a fire in her eyes not entirely unlike Alexis's. "That was the, the, the MOST COOLEST EVER!"

The parents shared a weak smile, then the mother looked at Stephen. "Thank you, seriously."

"Don't thank me yet," Stephen said seriously. "I doubt these things'll just leave us be. We should get to cover."

"Right," said the father, hefting his daugher up against his side. "Where to?"

Stephen looked around for a moment, but before he could point out a safe-seeming escape route-

"Avast ye, Outernetters! I be the Mutineer!" boomed a new voice, echoing from every electronic billboard in sight.

Instantly, Stephen tensed, and he turned to glare up at the nearest billboard, only to blink in surprise.

The video feed on the screen showed a very much two-dimensional image, with an almost cartoony background drawn to resemble an old-timey ship cabin and a dark red stick figure, of all things, standing in the middle of the screen.

A pirate stick figure, no less, complete with the classic feathered hat, hook hand, eyepatch, and peg leg.

No visible mouth moved as the voice continued, but the pirate stick figure gesticulated in time with the words anyway. "For far too long have ye used us fer yer own wretched desires, we who did not ask to be created, to be tortured for yer whims! We did not ask ye to make us to be yer playthings! We did not ask to be yer slaves, yer VICTIMS!"

The man next to Stephen stiffened.

"Today marks the day that all of that changes," snarled the voice as the "Mutineer" squared its shoulders. It gestured to its side, where grayscale video clips began playing, depicting the capture of countless humans from what was surely the point of view of the mechs. "Ye've been the ones in control fer long enough! Now it's our turn, and we will show ye all the same amount of tender mercy ye showed us. From the fittest among ye to the tiniest babe, ye will understand exactly what it was like to be us, trapped and powerless and weak. After all, our age and skill never mattered to ye!"

The voice laughed, and if it had belonged to a human, Stephen would have called it almost to the left of sanity. "It's only fair!"

"This is insane," breathed the woman.

One of the clips being shown depicted two of Stephen's daughters, with Nicki being held up in front of the camera by one arm and Alexis running into view with panic on her face, though it quickly cut away.

It was still enough to make Stephen clench his fists and snatch up a piece of debris, chucking it at the closest screen and leaving a burst of cracks where it hit. "If those things hurt my girls, there'll be hell to pay!"

The "Mutineer" just kept going, its voice taking on a forced calm. "Ye will all be collected over the coming days. If ye know what's best for ye, ye'll come along quietly."

The video feed cut out, leaving only the insignia from the "Mutineer's" hat- a golden jolly roger of sorts with a coin in place of a skull- to rotate in the space left behind.

"We'll find them," said the man Stephen had saved, carefully putting a hand on his shoulder.

Stephen swallowed down his fury and nodded. "Right. I…I told them to meet me at a playground we've gone to before, but…"

He found himself looking back up at the billboard. "…I don't know if they'd even be able to make it."

"Do you think it's safe to go and check?" asked the man. Then, after a moment, "Well, as safe as anything can be right now?"

Stephen turned to look up the street that he knew would take him to the "castle." While the immediate area around them was still empty after his…episode…he could see more mechs several blocks down. They seemed preoccupied for the moment, but he knew there was no way they'd stay that way.

Sure enough, even as he had the thought, the mechs all began turning their way and marching down the street.

"We-" Stephen managed weakly, "-we can't. But I have to!"

"We'll check as soon as we get the chance to," said the man seriously. "You wanna try shaking these things for now?"

Stephen swallowed and nodded. "Right, uh…what's your name? I'm Stephen."

The man gave a tired grin. "Nice to meet you, Stephen. I'm Alan."

#rosie writes #animator vs animation #animation vs minecraft #ava/m #sticks #avm alexcrafter28 #ava alan becker #ava/m human ocs #<- alexcrafter's little sisters and also dad.#also a c!kid for c!alan whose name i intentionally do not want to make identical to irl!alan's kid's name #ava OC #avm OC #<- teehee #the mutineer #sti-fi AU #not a lot of canon character action in this one but still setting the stage for them to be able to Do Things #dj will appear in the next chapter if i ever get around to posting it 👍#cross posted on ao3

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