#it wasn’t saving right and I got frustrated

[cthulhus-curse]

Venomous

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1,704

Warnings: Venom!Wanda Maximoff, Semi-Public Sex, Cunnilingus, Unrealistic Tongue Fucking, Belly Bulges, Degradation, Dirty Talk, Venom-Made Cock (idk what to call this to be honest) | 18+ Minors DNI

Summary: Wanda and her special friend get particularly hungry after class.

Hands traveled up your thighs, gushing with the venomous black stickiness that at times surrounded them entirely. You tried your best to push it away, but it was no use as small tentacles of goo pushed your underwear away. Eyes flickered from the front of the room to the person you shared a table with, huffing with frustration.

“Not here, Wanda. Save it for later,” you whispered with fear of being caught by the professor. You counted yourself lucky that you resided in the back of the room away from prying eyes, you taking notes while the woman beside you leaned against her chair. “Get it off me, now.”

“Why? Don’t you want to play a little game with me?” Came the question dripping with confidence. “Come on, Y/N, let me make you feel good. Our little Scarlet friend is desperate already. This morning’s playtime wasn’t nearly long enough.”

“You two are incorrigible. I hate you both.”

“No you don’t. You just hate that you like it so much,” Wanda shrugged, the symbiote she was wrapped in expressing her approval. “She’s right. We could be having so much fun right here. Why don’t you bend over the desk? Let’s show these dipshits how much of a little whore you are. Don’t you want your pussy to feel good? It’s so puffy and aching to be fucked. I can practically smell how wet you are from here.”

The remainder of your statistics class was spent taking notes, following the professor’s guidance, while simultaneously fighting off the symbiote’s advances. They were both right. You were drenched, but to be fair you’d blame them for having left you without release earlier that morning in the privacy of your shared dorm room. Wanda had formed herself a cock with Scarlet Witch’s goo, using it to pump herself in and out, groaning at how your pussy wrapped around her, hugging so tight.

When the time to leave came, you didn’t dare bat an eye towards your classmate, instead grabbing your belongings and rushing off onto the halls of the building, your sweatpants pulled up – a nonchalant Wanda followed behind. Green eyes turned dark red, glowing with the hunger and desperation, lips cracked and desiring a sweet nectar only you provided. Neither her or the symbiote she carried around since the beginning of the school year could get enough of. Scarlet Witch, the venomous extraterrestrial specimen, was bonded to her forever so long as they had you.

When easily catching up to you, Wanda sighed. “You know, it’s awfully rude to leave people behind like that. Especially your girlfriend,” she growled, pushing you close to her own body. The heat radiating from Wanda was intoxicating, your mouth watering as you could feel a small bit of Scarlet Witch against her clothed skin. “Don’t make us hurt you, malyshka. We both know you spent the last time crying and begging us to stop.” The last time you dared push her away with whatever strength you could muster, Wanda’s anger got the best of her – sharp fangs had dug deep into your arm leaving you a sobbing mess. “Maybe if you’re good we can use the little toy from this morning. That slutty cunt of yours loved being stuffed with our cock. So fucking pathetic.”

“Just make it quick,” you gave in knowing that while Wanda’s darkest desires came out, she’d still be soft on you. The same could not be said for the symbiote. “I have another class in a bit over an hour. I don’t think we have time to walk back to-”

“Oh shut up.”

As much as you wished to, you knew better than to question the path in which you were taken. All that mattered was that Wanda threw you against the wall of a nearby bathroom, locking the door behind as she stepped forth. Although she truly did not mind an audience, to show off her unabashed dominance over you entirely.

“Look at how fucking delicious she looks. Are you seeing this,” the symbiote never failed to be amazed by your appearance. Wanda merely hummed, stalking towards you before dropping to her knees. “I’m not blind, dumbass. Oh look at how pretty. You wouldn’t mind if I pulled this down, right?”

“Go ahead,” you smirked, watching as your partner tugged at your pants. She drove them down torturously slow, your underwear following along. The black goo traveled across her body, each second causing a different area to be covered with the symbiote. You’d never stop jumping even the slightest bit when wickedly sharp teeth morphed themselves with a deliciously long tongue dripping out saliva. “Just your tongue?”

“No one gave you permission to speak. Keep quiet if you know what’s good for you,” Scarlet Witch snarled. She pried your legs open until your cunt was in full view. Slick juices dripped down your inner thighs, an everlasting heat pulling her close. The oozing fluid accented your puffiness, folds practically begging to be parted as your hole screamed to be stuffed. “Mine.” Wanda frowned at that. “Ours,” came the correction.

Hands found themselves over the sticky dark mound of goo as a means to support yourself. Many nights the three of you spent enjoying one another, Wanda using her symbiote to explore varying sensations, her pink tongue brushing against your pussy as she tasted you. Neither wished to be rushed. They took their patient time exploring your sex, lapping at the area between your legs while their tongue grew in size. Mixed saliva and your cream made for a rather tasty treat.

The slender muscle slid inside your throbbing hole, stretching your walls out with its massive length. “Fuck that’s so good. Fill me up, Wanda. I want you to make me cum,” you begged. Although control was something you lacked, they were mindful to do as you pleased. There lived a soft spot deep inside reserved solely for you. “Give me more.”

Neither Wanda nor Scarlet Witch were in a position to deny the request. The mighty tongue reached into your depths to the point your insides were fully stuffed, each small area coated by more than fifteen feet. Luscious wet orchestral noises coated your ears, fluids dripping down your inner thighs. While tentacles held your arms and legs in place, the creature beneath you too its time.

Fucking you with her tongue made Wanda’s growl mixed with Scarlet Witch’s noises rough and loud. They were sure to flick their oozing tongue against your clit, to torture the poor little bundle of nerves that they were so fond of. Gooey tentacles snuck down your shirt to grope your tits, squeezing the mounds harshly while your erect tender nipples were abused.

The hunger they face could not be easily tamed. After what felt like millennia with Wanda’s possessed body kneeling between your legs, tongue exploring your guts and pumping itself roughly inside you, she swooped to her feet.

“Take them off, now,” their joined voices growled at you, forcing you to tug off your pants to the floor, allowing them and your underwear pool at your feet. As much as they wished to devour you, neither was fond of your anger, so they carefully lifted up your shirt, pushing you against the wall and picking you up with extreme strength. “You’re nothing but a little cock whore, huh? Do you want it? Let’s try it again.”

“Give it to me. I can handle it,” you challenged, wrapping your legs around Wanda’s venomous body. In awe, you stared down at the phallic creation which formed between her legs, all slick and dark, a goo that was large and girthy enough to make you see the stars as its size could be changed at will. “Don’t be such a fucking pussy, Wanda. Stop stalling and give me your c-”

You didn’t have an opportunity to finish as Wanda’s thick slimy cock eased itself in you. Your folds were spread apart, walls being delightfully stretched out. Surely that morning you had tried it for the first time, but it was even more enjoyable once Wanda got the hang of it. The pants she let out mixed with Scarlet Witch’s grunts were music to your ears.

“Fucking whore. That’s all that you are, our little cumdump,” Wanda breathed out, her possessed arms digging their sharp nails into your skin. Half of her face was covered with the symbiote’s appearance while the other was herself. The pure animalistic movements of her, the carnal desperation she carried out when stuffed your pussy full with her dick, made your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Your cunt looks so fucking puffy. Doesn’t it feel good? To be all full with our cock. You’re gripping us so well. Oh you’re so warm and tight. Your pussy is amazing, baby.”

The tediously long tongue spread across your face, saliva being dripped across your jaw with numerous fangs that grazed your skin. Her dick enlarged inside of you, your walls being spread apart. A small bulge formed over your lower belly that Wanda created. She tugged at your limbs, tongue shoving itself down your your throat while she fucked you with might.

“Cum for us now, baby. Show us how much of a stupid fucking cock bitch you are. Such a tight pussy,” they barked, causing you to yelp loudly. “Yeah moan like that, mutt. So full with our cock. You’re nothing but a fucktoy, a sexdoll that can’t do anything right but be a goddamn fleshlight.”

All that came from the utmost arousal you faced was a gushing wave of fluids. You squirted all over their cock. Your body was unmoving as the gooey tentacles held you in place, moans muffled by the tongue which fucked your throat. Wanda didn’t stop fucking you as you made a mess over her dick. If anything she went faster, foreheads pressed together when several tentacles pressed against the belly bulge.

“Feels good,” you tried to incoherently say, but were dissuaded by Wanda’s possessive demeanor. “Wanda…”

“Shut up.” Although you had creamed all over her, Wanda’s movements never ceased. She aimed to claim you fully within the campus’ bathroom. “Now be a good little fleshlight and kneel. Time for you to clean up your mess, whore.”

[xoxolilixx]

★𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙠𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙤𝙣𝙚★

𝙀𝙠𝙠𝙤 𝙭 𝙛𝙚𝙢!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

✩𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 - you help Ekko relax a little

✩𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙨 - Smut with plot, fingering, oral(reader receiving)

✩𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - heyyyy😅 ik it's been a while, I kinda disappeared off the face of the earth, MY BADDDDD😁 I figured since I've been gone for a good second, I should come back with a treat, so here you are lovebugs❤️ I hope you guys like it🩷🌺

Sweat trickled down his forehead as he worked. He was hunched over his desk, hands aching and mind clouded as he continued his repairs to his hoverboard. It was late –3 am to be exact– and Ekko’s been sleepless since the battle on the bridge with Jinx. You were worried about him. You knew how stressful this was for him; between failing to save his former best friend and making sure everything stays afloat with the firelights, he was basically drowning in his work and stress. Ekko was a relatively calm person, but whenever you tried to talk to him about everything, he would just shut down and push you away, so you learned to give him space, but tonight you couldn’t take it anymore.

���I’m surprised you haven’t frozen to stone like that,” you spoke softly, not wanting to startle him. His workshop door was cracked open and all the lights except for the one that sat right above his desk were dimmed. “...you should be asleep,” he whispered, not looking up from his work. His voice was weary and tired, you could hear the stress in his voice, it made your heart crack. “So should you, love,” your voice stayed soft, calming. The last thing you wanted was to be another harsh thing in his life right now. “The bed misses you,” you joked softly as you came up behind him, your soft hands landing on his shoulders. They were tense, his whole body was, and the tenseness didn’t falter when you touched him like how it usually did. “I’ll be there soon,” he uttered. “How soon? By the end of the month? Because I haven’t seen you in bed in 3 weeks,” you were sincere with a half joking tone as your hands gently ran down his body as you hugged him from behind, “I miss you baby…just…come on for tonight, get some rest. It’ll be here in the morning- I’ll even come in and help you with it,” you pleaded softly, your lips against his neck as you eyed his work from his shoulder. You didn’t want him to open up before he was ready, you didn’t want to push his limits, and you didn’t want to bitch to him about how closed off he’s been, you just wanted him to get some rest.

He sighed at your words, his hands pausing their movements for just a small moment, “Just-...let me finish this up, okay?” he uttered, his tone slightly softer than before. You huffed as you felt him lean into your arm, planting a small kiss on your upper arm as he started working again. You knew him, he wasn’t going to come to bed any time soon, he would just magically find something else that needed his attention and forget all about getting rest. “You’re helpless, you know that?” you huffed out against the shell of his ear, “your whole workshop is gonna be renovated before you come to bed.” He could hear the slight irritation in your words as you removed your touch from him, it made him tense up more. He knew you were being patient with him, and knowing that he was making it harder for you somehow made him feel worse than the stress did.

“Wait,” he uttered out before you got too close to the door. You immediately turn around, as if it was a reflex, “yes Ekko?” “...c’here,” he uttered, his hands abandoning his work as he looked over his shoulder. You didn’t fight the urge to walk back over to him. Soon, you were standing in between his legs and his hands were on your hips. “I’m sorry baby,” he sighed, his hands giving a loving squeeze to your body. His stress seemed to melt away the more you were around him, and you loved that, but constantly trying to get him to melt was frustrating, so you wanted to milk this as much as you could.

“Prove it,” you huffed, feigning irritation as you crossed your arms. For the first time in a while, he cracked a smile, chuckling as he immediately picked up on your game. “You want me to prove that I’m sorry?” he chuckled, his hands running up your waist, pushing up your (his) shirt as he did so. “Yea,” you huffed, your act almost breaking as he tugged you down on his lap, making you straddle him. “And tell me princess, how do you want me to do that?” he smirked as your hands rested on his shoulders as his hand gently grabbed your chin, running his thumb across your bottom lip. “Surprise me,” you smiled, finally breaking your act. It felt like he was a magnet, slowly pulling you closer, the space in between you closing at a steady pace. “Surprise you, huh? I got you~” he uttered before pressing his lips into yours.

This was the quickest you’ve ever seen Ekko forget about a project. Your lips danced with his as his hands roamed your body, running from your waist to your hip down to your thighs before finally resting on your ass, his hands giving it a soft squeeze. Your hands weren't much different; running from his shoulders down his chest to his abs and then back up to his blonde locs. It didn't take long for all restraint to disappear once his tongue slipped into your mouth, a soft whine escaping your throat as he explored your mouth. You felt him smile into the kiss, making your heart melt. If this was all it took to get him to loosen up, you would’ve been tried this.

You felt him remove one of his hands off your body, reaching behind you to tug his hoverboard off the table and onto the floor, giving him space to grab your hips and lift you up onto the table. You stayed connected in a messy kiss as he gripped your thighs and toyed with the waistband of your night shorts. You finally broke away, strings of saliva connecting you both as you panted softly, trying to catch your breath as you smiled down at him as he tugged at your waistband, a smile on his face as while. “There we go~” you cooed, your soft hands cupping his cheeks, “Finally got you to smile f’me,” you giggled, his smile only growing bigger. “Who wouldn’t for you, baby?” he chuckled as he tugged down your waistband, silently signalling to you to lift your hips, which you happily obliged.

He pressed soft, wet kisses all along your jaw and neck as he tossed your shorts somewhere behind him, pushing your thick thighs apart, revealing the damp spot on your orange, lacy panties, bringing a smirk on his face. “All that for me?” he smirked slyly, gripping you by your thighs and tugging you closer to the edge of the table. “No one else but you,” you giggled. “You must have really missed me,” he chuckled before pressing a kiss into your lips, swallowing the soft moan you let out when the pad of his thumb pushed into your clit through the flimsy fabric. The pretty sounds continued to spill out as he drew tight circles into the little bud.

At some point, he slowly stood up, his lips still locked with yours and his fingers still moving. “Lay back f’me baby,” he muttered against your lips lowly, but you weren't giving much of a choice when he placed a hand on your stomach and gently pushed you back. A shiver went down your spine as he placed soft, wet kisses down your body, making his way between your thighs, sucking hickeys over top of the stretch marks on your inner thighs. You leaned up on your elbows, looking down your body and watching him work on your body, allowing your eyes to lock with his. God damn it, he was fucking gorgeous like this; in between your legs, looking up with hooded but loving eyes, blonde locs falling in his face just a little. A gasped escaped your lips as he kissed your clothed cunt before he tugged the messy fabric to the side. Ekko bit back a groan as he watched strings of your arousal fall from the fabric as your pussy shimmered under the dim lighting. His dick leaked in his pants a little at the sight. “You’re so fucking pretty~” he cooed softly, making your heart melt and your cheeks flush, but before you could even respond, his mouth was on your cunt, coaxing struggled whines and moans from you as the sound of him slurping and licking your core filled the room. Your fingers tangled in his locs, tugging his head deeper between your legs as your head lulled back, your hips grinding against his face as he gripped your thigh with one hand, tugging you impossibly closer to him as he slipped one of his long, thick fingers into your tight hole.

He ate you like a starved man, but honestly the way he’s been locked up in his workshop, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was one. He now had two fingers pumping in and out of you, curling perfectly against that one gummy spot inside of you as he slurped and sucked at your clit, the juices from your previous orgasm pooling in the palm of his hand and on his desk under you.

He reluctantly detached from your cunt after your third orgasm leaving you a panting and shaking mess in front of him as he smirked down at you. “How’s that for proof?” he smirked, earning a breathless giggle from you as he licked your juices off his now dripping hand. “Ya know, I came in here to try and help you un-stress~” you giggled. “Hm, then you did a amazing fucking job baby,” he chuckled lowly, leaning down to lock lips with you, allowing you to taste yourself on his lips.

“Lets go to bed~” he uttered, scooping you off his table, leaving a mess for him to clean up later.

[28harryssunflower]

Broken paradise

The Italian coastline stretched endlessly before you, the deep blue sea kissing the golden sand beneath the balcony of your villa. The warm breeze carried the scent of salt and citrus, and the soft sound of waves filled the quiet space between you and Harry.

Everything was supposed to be perfect.

And for the first few days, it was. Mornings tangled in the silk sheets of his bed, afternoons spent floating in the infinity pool with glasses of white wine, evenings filled with laughter and whispered confessions over candlelit dinners. Harry had made sure of it - meticulously planning every moment, every detail, down to the playlist that played softly through the villa’s speakers. It was your own little world, untouched by reality.

Until now.

Now, you were standing on opposite sides of the bedroom, voices raised, hearts pounding - not from passion, but from frustration.

Harry scoffed, running a hand through his curls. “You can’t seriously be mad about this.”

Your arms crossed tightly over your chest. “I’m not mad… I’m just tired of you making me feel like I’m being ridiculous every time I bring something up.”

His green eyes flashed with exasperation. “Because you are being ridiculous!”

Your stomach twisted. “Wow. Thanks for that.”

Harry exhaled sharply. “That’s not what I meant. But really? You’re upset because I said you overpacked? It was a joke.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “It wasn’t just that, Harry. It was the way you said it - like you were rolling your eyes at me, like I was being annoying. And it’s not the first time.”

His jaw tensed. “So now I’m not even allowed to joke with my wife?”

“Not when it makes me feel like an idiot!”

Silence fell between you, thick and suffocating. The golden light from the setting sun spilled into the room, casting long shadows across the marble floor. Somewhere outside, the waves kept crashing, oblivious to the storm brewing inside.

Harry let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “You know, I don’t know why we even bothered with this honeymoon if we were just going to spend the whole time fighting.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he snapped. “This was supposed to be perfect. I planned everything to be perfect. And yet, here we are, arguing over nothing.”

Your hands balled into fists. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you bit out. “Did you expect us to just exist in some fantasy where we never have problems?”

“No, I just didn’t think we’d be like this. Not now, not so soon.”

His words stung.

Your voice was quieter when you asked, “So soon?”

He hesitated, rubbing his jaw, his frustration evident. “We just got married,” he muttered. “And we’re already fighting like this. It makes me wonder if we’re going to be doing this for the rest of our lives.”

The air in the room shifted.

Something in your chest ached, and before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out. “Well, if you already regret it, maybe we should just get a divorce now and save ourselves the trouble.”

The second the words left your mouth, you wished you could take them back.

Harry’s entire body stiffened. His face paled, the anger in his eyes flickering into something else - something shattered.

“What?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

You swallowed hard, suddenly feeling sick. “Harry, I didn’t mean-“

But it was too late.

His expression darkened, hurt flashing across his features before he masked it with more anger. “Right,” he said coldly, nodding as if he finally understood something. “So that’s where we are now? One fight, and you’re already throwing divorce in my face?”

“That’s not what I meant!” you said desperately. “I was just frustrated!”

“Frustrated?” he repeated bitterly. “Frustrated enough to throw away everything we just promised each other?” He let out a dry laugh, stepping back like he couldn’t stand to be near you. “Unbelievable.”

Your throat tightened. “Harry-“

“Don’t.” His voice was sharp, cutting through the tension like a blade. “You don’t just say things like that. You don’t throw divorce at me like it’s nothing.”

Guilt twisted inside you. You had said it to hurt him, to make a point, but you hadn’t expected it to cut this deep.

“I don’t want that,” you said, your voice trembling now. “I don’t want anything but you.”

His jaw tensed, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. For a moment, you thought he was going to turn away, to walk out.

But then, his shoulders sagged, and his face softened - just barely. He dragged a hand down his face, letting out a slow breath before looking at you again.

“I don’t either,” he murmured. “But you can’t say things like that. Not when I mean forever with you.”

The fight wasn’t gone, but the anger had faded, replaced by something more fragile. More raw.

You hesitated before stepping closer, reaching for his hand. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I didn’t mean it. I was just upset, and I wanted to hurt you the way I was hurting.”

His fingers tightened around yours, warm and steady. “I know,” he said softly. “But I hate fighting with you. And I hate even thinking about losing you.”

Tears burned at the back of your eyes. “You’re not going to lose me,” you promised. “I love you. Even when we fight. Even when we’re both being idiots.”

That finally brought a small, tired smile to his lips. He sighed, pulling you into his arms, burying his face in your hair. “I love you too,” he murmured. “Even when you overpack.“

You groaned, but there was no bite behind it. “Too soon, Styles.”

His laughter rumbled against your skin, and just like that, the tension eased.

The honeymoon wasn’t perfect.

But love wasn’t about perfect. It was about choosing each other - even when it was hard. Even when it hurt.

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s6 episode 10 thoughts

hmm… scully seems to be black and white in the image for this episode. maybe she has had this power to turn greyscale the whole time and she has simply never chosen to wield it until now. how fascinating of her!

ah, i see that the one after this is likely a two-parter, based on titles alone. so i had better focus now before things get crazy.

the description here emphasizes that scully will be the one pursuing this photographer!! i hope that bodes well for our girl!! i need lots of scully time!! or else terrible things happen to me!!

post-episode thoughts: we need to release the cut of this episode where mulder and scully team up to destroy this ritter fellow. i know mulder had to physically restrain himself from choking that dude out. frankly, he usually has FAR less self-control, so this was a big step for him.

but first and foremost, this was a scully episode. and there is so much i want to say. about living!! and dying!! and loving!! and what scully wants for herself!!! and i am sad, but i am pondering!!! and i want her to be happy!!! and in the process of editing my notes, i got myself so worked up over the whole thing that i simply cannot articulate anything!!!! which is such a shame, because if i had words, i would use them!!! at length!!

we open in new york city, where a woman gets help pushing a shopping cart out of an elevator to deliver some mail. mail time!!! wait. who is behind her?

get away from her. she is working. STOP FOLLOWING HER. I’M SERIOUS. now the elevator is taking too long to come get her…. and the creepy guy gets in. GET OUT OF THERE. YOU’RE MAKING ME ANGRY.

why can creepy man see everyone in black and white? until he steps out of the elevator, and all of the color returns.

oh shoot. he gets out and then the elevator starts breaking. so he takes the STAIRS. and it falls!!!! 

he’s taking a picture of the collapsed elevator?? with the bodies in it??? 

now who does that help….?

why is he documenting it… is he working for OSHA or something…..? 

shortened intro, you will not sneak your tricks past me.

someone else is doing a background check here at the FBI!! are scully and mulder free?? well, they’re stuck on the same floor, so probably not. mulder is on the phone and fiddling with his pen.

no; they, too, are sadly stuck performing background checks. this is so sad!!! she can save lives!!!! and they use her for this!!!

she asks if mulder is ready to quit and he says “no. that would make way too many people way too happy” <- LMAO well, that is entirely understandable

ohhh, she gets a strange call and is on the move. she was asked to go to kersh’s office!! this cannot be good!! he hates her!! and she was the only one called!

OOO, WE SEE HER FILE. she’s 5 foot 2!!! i didn’t know that!!! but i figured she was somewhere in that area. and she lives in annapolis, maryland. like learning that mulder lives in alexandria, i do not know enough about geography to know what that means.

seems she was brought on in 1990 as an instructor of forensic pathology, and she was recruited right from the university of maryland. i did know this. but not the years during which it happened. 

ARGH, i wish this screen wasn’t so dark so i could SEE. it says something about physics. BA in physics?? ARGH! this is so frustrating. mulder had described her thesis as her “graduate thesis”, so maybe she did physics undergrad, physics grad school, then med school, then FBI. 

well. it’s not focusing other than that, so i can’t make any conclusions unless kersh announces what he sees inside. because he is the one reading her file.

some agent named ritter is here from new york. who are you, man? he found an old crime scene photo of a woman who passed away from an overdose. but the clock in the photo is 45 minutes earlier than her listed time of death. scully points out that a clock can be wrong. why is this ritter man, like, quizzing her?

hmm!!! from the newspaper, the other photograph of the body shows a totally different time, an hour and a half later!!! that is very weird. from the same photographer, too. i’m guessing he wasn’t just hanging there for 2 hours and spacing out his picture taking.

alfred fellig is the photographer. ritter thinks that maybe he poisoned the woman and photographed her for personal pleasure, then came back later to do his job for the police and photographed her AGAIN. and while scully says that is “quite a theory”, there are 3 other photos of fellig's that show very different times according to different negatives.

she says there’s no consistent MO, and he says there is no consistent anything. and he wants her help. kersh asks him to leave. what is afoot here….

“i would say he has a promising career ahead of him. so did you… at one time” <- OH MY GOD??? 

(furious scully face)

“AGENT MULDER and i will begin immediately” <- OH!!! she stood right up for him!!! what a good friend!!

but kersh says he is a lost cause. and that he hopes she isn't as well.

so now she has to go to new york city with this RANDOM GUY. oh, i’m pissed off FOR HER!! kersh must be trying to separate them….

fellig is getting off a bus and watching some guy have what appears to be a heart attack. heart attack (or coughing fit? chest pain?) guy is in black and white!! 

he goes somewhere and gets some mail, patting his head with a cloth while fellig watches out the window. and he grabs his arm!! and falls!!!! AND FELLIG COMES CLOSER TO WATCH????

he pulls out his camera and takes a bunch of pictures of the dying guy, who he sees in black and white. very weird.

mulder is looking through a bunch of photos on his computer. ohhh, it looks like he found the pictures from fellig. “mulder. what are you doing?” “being nosy. eating my heart out. they’re sending you on an x file” <- OHHH, HE LOOKS SO SAD AND LEFT OUT :(

“it’s not an x file” “that’s not what i’m reading”

“i’m thinking murder by telekinesis. i’m thinking maybe a shamanistic death touch. i’m thinking about the muslim superstition that to photograph someone is to steal their soul” <- OHHH, LET HIM ON THE CASE :( 

fascinating look into how he starts gathering leads based on the little information he knows about the case and his wealth of memorized strange facts....

he thinks they’re splitting them up!!!! and he’s so sad!!! oh!! she tries to tell him it’s a one-time thing, but he isn’t buying it.

she bites her lip, closes his tabs as agent ritter walks in, and introduces them. he very visibly wants to beat the guy with a hammer. and makes a point of calling him by his first name.

jump to new york city. ritter and scully are asking some cops about fellig. he has yearly renewals for his job a very long time, and he’s been doing it since 1964!!! he doesn’t seem to have aged. 

OH! this ritter guy seems fine enough, but he called her "dana", and that made me flinch. he doesn’t seem to think it’s that weird fellig hasn’t aged at all.

meanwhile, some other dude is being chased and calling for help. whoever is chasing him pulls out a knife and kills him!!! and fellig is there to take pictures of the scene!!

but the murderer finds fellig and starts stabbing him…… he steals fellig’s camera as the blood pours everywhere. but fellig gets up!!! and pulls the knife out of his own back!!! ack!!!! 

the blood from his body is red and didn’t cause any gassing, so i don’t think he’s one of the shape-shifting aliens, but maybe he’s some sort of vampire or vampire-like creature?? maybe he sucks energies from the photos of dying people he takes??

ritter and scully find the knife with fellig’s prints on them.

“what’s this?” “a whole lotta blood” “yeah, i got that” <- LMAOOOOO, do not separate her from her bonded pair or she will be mad. scully clearly does not think there is a second victim because there is no second body.

ritter says it is “january 4th”. so does this take place BEFORE rain king, somehow? or did we jump ahead a year? you know what? i’m gonna try not to think about it. 

that seems like a weird detail to include for it to just prove the timeline wrong.

(i'm still annoyed about this 24 hours later btw)

they’re interviewing fellig. scully watches from the corner. he says he saw someone stealing a kid’s shoes and tried to run him off. he claims he touched the knife after the murderer left. 

OHHH, she picks up on the fact that he is in pain and is closing in on him like a shark smelling blood. yeahhhh, noir detective. ritter seems fascinated by this but like, come on, we all are. he’s not special.

fellig confesses to being cut. and she helps take off his shirt to see the gashes. ritter says to get his blood drawn and take pictures.

“hey, i’m confused. i thought we were trying to bust this guy, not look for reasons to let him go” “i thought we were looking for the truth” <-YEAH, YOU TELL HIM 🔥 

he gets pissed and leaves

AWWWWW, MULDER CALLS HER AND SAYS IN A STUPID VOICE THAT THEY USED TO SIT NEXT TO EACH OTHER AT THE FBI :,) AWWWW, LOOK AT HER TIRED SMILE!!!

WAIT, WHY DOES HE KNOW ABOUT THE STABBING, LMAO????? “i told you, i’m nosy” <- WHAT DOES HE KNOW??

they found another murderer’s prints on the knife and fellig’s blood all over the place… yeah. so fellig probably isn’t killing these people outright.

DID HE HACK INTO THE NYPD DATABASE SOMEHOW?? LMAOOOOO???

NO, HE GOT THE FILES FROM KERSH SOMEHOW, AND HE SEES THAT FELLIG HAS A HEALING FACTOR. LMAOOOO, oh he is gonna get in TROUBLE!!

but he says kersh has (mostly) nice things to say about her. which is kind of him to add.

he whines his way into doing a background check on the murderer, saying it’s what he does now. and you can tell she wants to say no, but also knows that saying no to him won’t do a damn thing, lmao.

why does he have access to kersh’s files….?

scully is joining ritter in a car at 1 am. seems he’s doing a stakeout on fellig. ritter tells her to have a LOVELY evening in a way that seems like he really hates her. man. i thought he was kinda chill at the start of this episode. except for the way he was quizzing her. and ignoring fellig not aging. maybe he was a jerk all along and i simply tried to be kind.

time for scully to flip through some more murder photos. OH NO!! she hears the camera clicking in the distance… and ritter just walked away!!! IS HE GONNA BE DEAD???

she knocks on fellig’s door and says “explain this” LMAO, get those answers!! how did he take a photo of a murder an hour before the police arrived?! 

she says he needs to explain himself or he will not know a moment’s peace. and trust that she means it.

fellig says to take a ride with her, which has me scared. and then he drives her around for an hour!!! he says he is looking for the shot. 

he finds a woman on the street corner, saying she’s about to die, could be a minute, could be an hour. scully grabs her gun, thinking he’s going to do something nefarious. he says the way they die is always a surprise- he just always knows when. 

“you want me to believe that?”, she asks

but then a man comes toward the woman on the side of the road, and they start fighting. scully gets out of the car! and she grabs the dude!!! he is under arrest!!! i fear she may only fulfill the prophecy somehow… 

she takes a gun off of him, and when he claims it isn’t his and calls her “red”, she slaps him on the face, omfg…. just a little slap…. but it was enough

BUT NO!!! when scully goes to ask the lady on the side of the road if she’s okay, the mystery woman gets hit by a truck!!!

OMG????? and fellig comes in to get the shot…

ritter is mad as HELL with scully when she rolls up with this random dude under arrest. she is also very mad at him!!! she does not need his permission to do her job!!! but he says he has something to show her. 

the murderer who killed that kid over the shoes claims that fellig did it. and scully accuses RITTER of making the STORY UP, OHHHH!!!

“fellig is a murderer. whether or not he did this specific one, i don‘t care-“ WELL, YOU SHOULD???

omfg… is this some sort of moral test for scully? is kersh torturing her like this is the good place? he says he knows the judge and he’ll get the warrant

OHHHH!!! “you know, kersh warned me about you.” “uh, he did?” “yeah, you and your partner. god knows his reputation precedes him, so i guess i should have seen this coming. you muck up my case, and kersh will hear about it. are we clear, dana?” “scully.”

WHEW!!!! THE WAY SHE SAID HER NAME ALL CLEAR AND QUIET GAVE ME GOOSEBUMPS

you tell that pathetic rat.

“and we’re done with this conversation” YES MA’AM 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

wow. still playing this on loop in my brain, 24 hours later. the implications... the defining of herself... the resistance... yeah.

phone call time!! it’s mulder!!! she admits that it is an x file, which prompts him to sound worried. “what happened?”

mulder says that fellig is 149! under the name henry strand, someone applied for a press license way back in the day, and henry’s prints match fellig’s!! and before henry, there is an L.H. rice who was born in 1849 and has the same fingerprints!!

how did he track the fingerprints down… get mulder out of this office and into a research lab, maybe!

“i’m not good at math, but i figure that’s a whole lot of candles on the cake”

! MULDER LORE REVEAL ! he doesn’t think he’s good at math!!!

man, i haven’t gotten to do a lore reveal text format like that in a while. that felt nice.

scully finds fellig's age hard to believe, but mulder says she should find him before he vanishes again. she turns up at his apartment and looks so scary, LMAO. 

but she warns him that he will be arrested in 2 hours and charged with murder. which makes her seem to be the the good guy here, and not as scary as her angry face would suggest.

fellig says he just takes the pictures, but she hits him with “what you showed me was a contemptible lack of compassion for another human being. you showed me that you profit off of people’s deaths” <- OHHHH, GET HIM!! that strong moral code kicks in again!

“now, why shouldn’t you go to prison?” <- oooo, she’s playing hardball. but he says they’re lucky!!! and he doesn’t take them, “he” does. girl, who the hell is "he"?

fellig must be jealous that these other people can die… 

scully follows him into his darkroom. i feel such fondness for her as she moves the curtain. 

he points to someone in the photograph and says “he’s the one who takes them” BUT WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?! 

it’s a glimpse of death itself. he’s trying to photograph death!!!

“mr. fellig, i know you know more about photography than i do, but this is just a lens flare” “you’re right, i do know more about photography than you” <- LMAO, okay, that did make me laugh.

she asks him why take a picture of death, and he says he wants to look into his face so he can die. nothing will kill him. he's tried it all.

hey man, i’m unfortunately really distracted by the terrible feelings of tenderness that scully has sparked in me right at this very moment. yeah, idk. i don’t really want to focus on this guy right now. it’s very sad, genuinely, but look at her face. 

he says he doesn’t want to be here, and he got left behind. 

“you know, i don’t believe you” “yes you do. that’s why you’re here” <- OHHHH, he called her out…. the cracks in her disbeliever facade keep growing… is it that she doesn’t believe him, or that her greater commitment to needing to know the truth and therefore do the morally correct thing in handling this murder case brought her here?? can they be separated???

she flips through his photos, touching one of a young flapper. she asks how he knows when they’ll die, and he says he knows.

scully has to step outside. and she calls mulder, asking if louis brady (name on the flapper photo) was also one of fellig's names. he says no, but there is a big gap before 1939, so it could be.

but somehow, fellig disappeared!!! just kidding, he’s back. he wanted to get his film. i thought he vanished for a few seconds there.

mulder is in the FBI archives at 9:30 am. ahhh, i wish i could go there. and he finds fellig’s photo!! it shows him wanted under the name louis brady for double murder!!!

mulder calls ritter when he learns of this news, because he cannot get ahold of her. he tells him about how fellig killed two patients and walked away!!! he tells him to find agent scully NOW. and ritter, of course, is shocked that this murder happened like 80 years ago, but whatever. you better go check on her, ritter.

meanwhile, scully is still with fellig. she asks “how can you have too much life? there’s too much to learn, to experience” and this hits hard because she, of course, was very recently dying.

(moaning in pain as i think about scully wanting to experience and learn everything there is this world has to offer.......)

he says you start to wonder what everyone else gets to know

OH, SHE ASKS ABOUT LOVE??? he wanted to look up his wife 40 years ago. and he couldn’t remember her name. 

(scully, you damn romantic...)

“love lasts 75 years, if you’re lucky. and you don’t want to be around when it’s gone” <- oh stop… you’re going to make her cry…

but, is he actually going to try and kill her…..?

WAIT! she turned black and white… and tells her to count her blessings.

IS HE GOING TO KILL HER BECAUSE HE WANTS TO HELP HER???

(author's note: no)

she wants to know how to prove his thing- that he can live forever, and that he can sense when people are going to die before they do. fellig says someone took his place. he had yellow fever. and he’s getting his camera around…

he saw death back when he was sick. and he saw him dancing around the room, taking people. but death didn’t take him. 

a nurse sat with him, and when death came, he looked away. she looked at him instead. and the fever broke, and she was the one that died. 

he tells her she’s very lucky. she gets in his face and insists she is NOT going to die. she tells him to turn it off. he took her phone!!!

he says death is coming and he needs to make her peace…. 

but it’s ritter!!!! he fires his gun at fellig!!!

SHE COLLAPSES???? WHY IS SHE BLEEDING??????? there is blood coming from her throat???? did ritter miss and shoot her instead???

fellig tries to take a photo of her with his other camera, and asks if she sees "him". he says don’t look, close your eyes. and he holds her hand in his. AND HE LOOKS INTO DEATH INSTEAD. and he gasps softly…. oh my god…. he finally dies.

scully is in bed in the hospital a week later. mulder is waiting, telling ritter he’s a lucky man. which is better than i expected.

OH, he grabs her hand. and he sits on her bed. and he smiles, saying her doctor says she is making an amazing recovery. but she seems so sad, and in so much pain

he says “death only looks for you once you seek its opposite” <- OHHHH my god…

and we fade to black.

so i rewatched the scene where scully gets hurt because at first i couldn't tell what was happening, and this DUMBASS ritter shot fellig, and the bullet went STRAIGHT THROUGH HIM and INTO SCULLY???? like. what the HELL WAS HE THINKING????

holy fuck, if i were mulder i would have done a lot more than tell him he was a lucky guy. look at her enduring ritter's presence while she’s in her hospital bed and he was such an awful person the whole time they worked together. i would have told him to fuck off and let me recover from the bullet YOU put in me in peace.

and mulder grabbing her hand. and the flowers in her room. and his smile at her news. but she’s so sad. people don’t live forever. 

she wants to live, and she wants to have a life, and holy HELL need to lay down.

oh my god… this episode was super dark. and usually i don’t really like the dark ones. but it has scully, so i liked it better. because we got to contemplate her worldview. 

and she wants to LIVE. she wants a LIFE. she wants LOVE. the way she got in fellig’s face and REFUSED to let him take her picture… the way she tried to understand how he could be jealous of death, because she always wants to understand and to learn and empathize… the way she helped fellig, and fellig helped her by telling her to look away from death, so he could look instead… oh my god.

we need to do something about this ritter guy. hopefully, he will simply be fired. you can’t go around shooting your own agents. OH! and the way he didn’t care about justice at all- how he got the warrant because he knew the judge, and he told scully that if she got in his way he’d go to kersh… and how she told him her name is SCULLY and this conversation is OVER…

oh!!!

and mulder helping over the phone; mulder using her sleuthing skills to find out that fellig WAS a murderer and she WAS in danger, and he called ritter immediately and said you had BEST find her. and i can only imagine how he went to bed that night thinking of all the ways he wanted to kill ritter. how he sat by his phone for her. bouncing his basketball until the hospital sent him word of her recovery. 

now, i’m still puzzled as to why he has access to kersh’s files. perhaps this is some sort of clue. but to what? i cannot say.

i just love scully SO MUCH. she saw that the woman on the side of the road was going to die, and she stepped right in and did everything she could, even if it was ultimately doomed. she couldn’t sit back. and she wants a life. she’s in love and she wants a life and she wants a house and a dog. and to save people. and to do work that is satisfying. and all of these things she has been denied.

(screams into my hands)

she’s been slowly starting to believe- maybe not in the traditional sense, but in the sense that she recognizes something she cannot understand is afoot, and she finds herself curious about how and why. i found it very interesting that fellig called her out for this and gibson did as well. and we know that gibson can read minds, so we know it to be true. i don’t think “believes” in the same use of the word that mulder does, but she is finding it harder to compartmentalize, maybe. and can you blame her? i mean, she is miss "there HAS to be a scientific explanation for this". belief not in the supernatural sense, but in the sense that there is so much more to learn and understand and experience. be it love and life or the guy who lives forever and can somehow sense death. maybe the spiritual and the scientific aren't that separate.

god. this really was a scully episode, and i am so grateful. i deserved this. even though it wasn’t one where she laughs and enjoys the gift of being alive, we still got to dive into her thoughts and emotional state. AND we got bonus angsty mulder- angst about them being separated, and angst about nearly losing her. is this not the ultimate kind of mulder angst? 

i shall go to bed a bit sad this evening, but content. 

as i edit my notes to make them readable the day after watching this, there is still so much on my mind. in the sense that i want to write a thinkpiece on what this means for scully's character. maybe this will be a turning point, when she once again confronts her own mortality. how easily death can come. maybe she'll tell him how she feels because she realizes that now is all she has. maybe she'll confront kersh and tell him to get them off of their nonsense assignment so she can go back to saving people. maybe she'll think about all of the times she felt so certain that she was going to die in the past and once again try and make a meaning for why she didn't.

i am also thinking about how sad mulder was when kersh separated them and then how horrible he must have felt when he heard that she was SHOT in his absence. and there was nothing that he could do for a week while he could only wait to hear if she was okay. and then he drove up there as soon as he could. and he KNEW that it was ritter's fault she was lying in that bed fighting for her life, but he somehow managed to say only how lucky he was instead of slamming his head through the drywall. and how he held her hand, smiling, so happy to see her, taking his spot on her bed, thinking of how he loves her and how many times her has nearly lost her. and her thinking the same thing. and neither of them saying anything. just touching.

the feelings i am experiencing are large and difficult to put into words, which is frustrating because, like AUGH! (gestures wildly) do you get what i mean?! do you SEE what i am saying?!?! (grabs your shoulders and shakes them vigorously)

please share your thoughts with me, especially if you are a scully girl like myself. to me, this felt sort of like scully's version of paper hearts, in a way. at least, i see some parallels. even if i cannot elaborate at this time because my brain is flopping.

[mc-adarsh]

Adarsh offered him a frown with a set jaw and contemplated saying anything about it. Our Adarsh. Given his name still sounded wrong at times, it was even more jarring to have people think they knew him, when he was still figuring out himself. “You realise I have absolutely nothing to lose, right? I didn’t burn a man’s skin off. Worst outcome for me would be this guy claiming I didn’t do enough to stop him.” Which was a lie. Worst claim - and correct at that - would be Florida man stating Adarsh had pushed him into the line of fire. Though without realising it was in fact that. 

If Zaid wanted to piss him off, he couldn’t have chosen a worse timing. Adarsh realised - and even basked in - having all the cards. He could set the situation to his hands in whichever way he’d like at this point.

Adarsh found that the exhaustion resulted in sleep walking through most of it. Receiving input but either forgetting or needing all his energy to stay awake. His eyes half closed it took him all his strength to not fall over when Florida Man - Jason, he’d forget that in an hour - was well received and taken away, the lie was told, and he was thanked. 

Yes, they would get away with it.

He smirked a bit, but it was wiped off his face when Zaid turned to him. He’d think, after their whole ordeal, it would be in a conspiratorial manner. Instead he asked questions that Adarsh too would like the answers too, but he wasn’t about to find them out talking with the chef who could literally melt people’s skin off.

“I think we established that: I don’t know,” he countered, teeth gnashing together as he tried to fight the exhaustion that was pulling him down and the frustration that brought a new kind of shame. No, this was certainly not a normal situation and Adarsh hadn’t reacted like the average person, but he’d saved Zaid’s reputation - and he clearly thought that was worth saving. He was a man willing to do whatever to save face. Was this also something that worked in his favour? Most certainly. Had that thought been there subconsciously as well? He didn’t want to address that yet.

“If you’re afraid I’ll suddenly start spewing the truth, you can be assured I wouldn’t risk my own standing for it. After all, I went along with the… slight adjustment to the truth.” 

And he felt no remorse. Not for Florida Man’s - name already forgotten - horrifying experience, not for Zaid’s mounting guilt, certainly not for lying.

He patted Zaid on the shoulder and gave him a tired smile. “Just give me a good three days to recuperate before you do something like this again.” 

He realised he had something on Zaid that he could hold over his head. He realised he felt he was a better person because his power healed while Zaid destroyed. He decided he was a bit fucked up and maybe for once he didn’t want to know why or how he got here. 

"Right, yeah. The very soul of humility and graciousness, that's our Adarsh," Zaid's tone was so dry it was almost brittle. Now wasn't the time to give someone a sarcastic tongue-lashing, but it wasn't as if Adarsh was coming up with any ingenious plan. Just casting about, looking for whatever way would advantage him best.

It was Zaid who provided the idea, even capped it off with a lovely spin towards heroism. It made Zaid sick to do it; not because he was such a morally upstanding person, but because even he drew the line in the sand, when it came to some situations. Like near-manslaughter.

Still, this was self-serving as well, wasn't it? Zaid was terrified of his powers, the impact and fear it could generate amongst others. He wasn't like Una and her beast. He wouldn't publicly announce to a pack of strangers that he should and would be penned up, ostracized for a power he never asked for. That he feared. This story - saving Florida Man from a volcano burst rather than from him - was a damned good one. Zaid couldn't care less about credit; he was happy with his role as concerned bystander in the fiction.

Only Adarsh would know the truth. And something about that niggled in the back of Zaid's conscience as well, but he was currently in forward-thinking mode, not replaying the past. What had actually happened in Adarsh's altercation with Florida Man.

"Grab his...arm..." Zaid's lip curled at the thought, but fortunately when he did, the skin didn't slough off like a roasted beast. Adarsh's healing magic allowed them to each haul Florida Man up, and start the slow drag towards the Medicentre. They were both shorter, Adarsh was weaker after his power drained him, but. They were able to get as far as the grass, before others came running up.

A lump in his throat that Zaid swallowed down, to relay the lie. To 'sell it', as Adarsh worded it. And people bought it, which made Zaid feel more sick. hey helped, taking over the escort of Florida Man to the Medicentre, leaving Adarsh and Zaid behind.

"You should get checked out too," Ellen said to Adarsh, giving him a once-over. "You look worn out, after all the healing. That's - that's incredible, Adarsh! You saved Jason!"

Right, that was Florida Man's name. Jason.

"I've got Adarsh, love. I'll get him there," Zaid assured Ellen, who ran off after Florida Man's entourage. Zaid looked over at Adarsh, unsure how to feel.

"Who are you?" he finally asked, his tone icy and tense. Masking the tremour of fear. "Mate what are you about? Can I trust you?"

[nadekofannumber1]

Given the things known about the adaptation as it is seemingly implied I thought it would be fun to try an imagine or chart out how’s and why’s of how off+ monster would be adapted

If tsukihi undo is first one can only imagine what kind of changes to order one could make for the sake of operating on a smooth track of adaptation

The first thing one notices about the tracks of off and monster season is that there’s two main tracks they follow plot wise to their respective ends in shinomono, the Nadeko track and the Shinobu track

By following the prestablished novel release order you can easily reach the end of said track smoothly, however it’s pretty likely they’ll change the order of some arcs for advertising or really any other standard reason. Personally, i believe main reason why tsukihi undo is first is because it’s very marketable, however if one thinks on those tracks you can get some very wild results!

Below the cut are charts and explanations of bizzare ideas and foolish thoughts

This chart exists as a precedent to this conversation, since I cant explain it in the image description I’ll start with the foundations. As a narrative monogatari is non linear, because of how it handles that fact you can essentially read some arcs out of release order and have it not “ruin the story” for you. Truly as long as you don’t skip something that needs another novel’s context to make sense at all or undermines a story element, it’s generally fine.

Essentially what I mean by this is some arcs have more required reading than others, and what arcs require said reading along with their publishing order can create a list of standard deviation in which arcs can be moved in adaptation. Yet because of advertising, pacing, or company higher ups, it makes those outlier orders more likely.

If you organize the stories by how they feed into each other, the gap between the structures of monster and off season is made apparent. Because of how musubi is so conclusive the temptation exists to move it to the end of serialization. It does work in the sense of linearity, however it could easily have early off season arcs (like tsubasa sleeping or karen ogre) which connect to it in a more subtle sense, to be thrown off a bit intent wise.

Gaps of time between adaptations can genuinely effect communal response even if it reads better when everything is out.

This is why I think if they had to make shinobumono happen sooner for marketing reasons that after nademono and before musubi wouldn’t the worst time to place it. Its status would parallel the structure of monster season’s remaining books in alternating between an araragi and a Nadeko story, and it would feel like thematically resolute enough to feed into musubi while doing that. The return to the setting post musubi might be a bit awkward (which is the biggest issue with doing that) but I think that the story can handle it.

My other thought is if they wanted to rush the idea and build hype they could try and air princess beauty or acerola bon appetite a bit early. I think it would be better if they waited for waza but if they wanted to push the narrative of Shinobu hype and push other things out of order, they could fairly seamlessly do that here. Solely because of the fact that it wouldn’t throw off schedule too much. Even if it wouldn’t make sense.

For what makes sense generally this is probably the most realistic outcome in my eyes

In my coming reblog I’ll discuss the seemingly sillier concepts I thought while considering this, check the notes if curious about a second half

[gojosprettyprincess]

Tw - Katsuki is soo mean, rough sex, degradation n manhandling. Not proofread!

One thing about Katsuki, he's an impatient man, that's for sure. There wasn’t any “Katsuki can i try to ride you” or “pleaseee just let me do it by myself” none of that. He had enough of your shit.

He tsks mockingly, a derisive sound escaping his lips the moment his keen eyes detect that the rhythm of your alluring ass that’s bouncing on his cock becoming duller and slower. He's so fucking disappointed in himself for even giving you the chance to try and ride him.

How dumb.

What a waste of time.

He quickly grabs both of your supple asscheeks, his strong hands creating a sense of urgency as he firmly squeezes them, preventing you from moving away. He impatiently starts thrusting his hips up into you, entering you in one complete motion. The sudden force of his entire length, which you weren't even able to fit by yourself, invading your little pussy so easily made you squirm to quickly get a hold of his broad shoulders to steady yourself because you knew how fucking crazy he was when it came to with manhandling.

His crimson-red eyes locked onto your contouring features, swallowing up your adorable reactions with pure joy. He just loves bullying you like this. Katsuki was a wonderful partner, devoted, wealthy, and maybe not the most mature, but he was unquestionably aware of right from wrong when it comes to relationships. The only thing is, he’s just so so cruel and vulgar to you sometimes, especially during sex. Bakugou always had a huge ego and prideful personality so you can't say you were surprised before tangling yourself up with him.

When the early morning light streamed through the window, his routine began before even taking a bite of the breakfast you made, pumping your warm cunny full of cum before heading off to fulfill his manly responsibilities as a pro-hero. "Better keep my cum buried in this pussy, you got it?" he commanded sternly, his warm breath fanning against the delicate skin of your neck as you mewled at the harsh way the edge of the dinner table was digging into your poor abdomen. Crossing your thighs together so you could avoid any spillage of his sperm because you know he’d check when you go deliver his home-cooked lunch at his agency later in the day. And if you make one wrong move, you’ll be limping your way out of his agency.

Whether you like it or not, katsuki will always be mean when he’s fucking you. It’s a part of him, you’ve known that just by the way he acted. Always had an feisty attitude and angry issues with everyone around him but the difference is you fucking loved it, and of course he knew that, that’s why he indulges in it and constantly reminds you every single time how much of a horny little cock-whore you are, pussy slobbering uncontrollably all over his pretty cock like a nasty slut. The rim of your hole clinging onto his dick as if your life depended on it. It hasn’t even been five second since he walked through the door from work, still clad in his hero costume before his hard dick is nestled in his housewife's warm, runny sex.

Your pink panties slackly pulled to the side, revealing your tight hole for his vicious assault as he ruthlessly positioned himself to take advantage of your vulnerable state.

His gears and pants rubbing against the smooth flesh of your thighs, harshly marking it red. Poor Katsuki he couldn’t save a civilian from a villain attack today and now he’s so frustrated and mad so what better way to vent than abusing his pretty housewife’s comforting cunt? :(

“Tight fucking pussy, yer creaming all over me already. Bet you were thinking about my cock splitting you open the entire day, weren’t you princess?” He laughed tauntingly, his angry cock curving right into your g-spot making your toes curl in the air as his strong, big hands held an astonishingly tight grip on your waist to keep you off the floor while you bent over his marble counter. You always found it so sexy when Katsuki showed off his strength to you, after all, he’s one of the most strongest pro-heroes so of course he’d be unbelievably strong. You went crazy over it.

“Sukii��� m’gonna fuck! Cum” you cried out, tears streaming down your eyes as his fat cock delved deeper into your core, repeatedly hitting your sweet spot over and over again, sending you into a daze as you lose your mind. “No, you fucking slut— always being such a greedy bitch. You’re not cumming until I’m ready to fill you up, ya hear me?” his tone was so serious, it sent shivers down your spine.

You quickly gripped the edge of the counter. Your soft, plush ass bouncing back against his hard pelvis with each forceful thrust. God, he loved the sight so much, he licked his lips at the delicious sight of the creamy mess you were creating, completely coating him and his balls with your juices. It made his cock throb against your walls at the lewd way your quirkless pussy was rightfully swallowing him in.

“Katsuki I–“ you stammered, struggling to find your words as fear washed over you. Your hole fluttered around him, you were seeing white at this point. Your inner muscles involuntarily clasped tightly around his length. You couldn’t help it, his cock was just so fucking long and thick, and well he knew how to skillfully use it that it made you become undone within five minutes. Your eyes bulged open with fear as the streaming white liquid from your cunt spattered onto his cock and thighs and onto his expensive marble floor. The action didn’t go unnoticed by him resulting in him quickly placing you down on the slick floor and violently smacking your fleshy ass, making it recoil against his touch as he groaned. “God, you’re such a dumb fucking slut, what did I tell you? Can’t even understand simple instructions that I give you”.

He swiftly extracted his cock from your soaked pussy and hoisted you over his huge shoulder before making his way to your shared bedroom. You cried out as your cunt twitched in anticipation as echoes of his firm, resounding spanks on your bruised ass reverberated through the room with each step he took, “M’gonna teach you a fucking lesson, better make sure this is the last time you fucking disobey me”.

[moonlitwitchdaisy]

a little note: this was one of the most enjoyable headcanons i've written. if gege can't give toji a happy ending, then we will! hehe, i hope you like it! normally, sukuna was next on the list, but since i've already mentioned toji’s best friend, it wouldn’t feel right to not write about him next. so, up next is ufc’s bloody monster shiu ;) watching shiu fight, all sweaty in the ring, is probably everyone’s dream here, don’t you think?

.ᐟ check Champions League's Masterlist to meet the other champions

.ᐟ check out his bestie ufc's bloody monster!shiu headcanons

nfl’s dirty player!toji who earned his nickname for his ruthless and rule-breaking style of play.

nfl’s dirty player!toji who is considered the greatest tight end of all time. This man was practically built to dominate this position with his size, strength, and speed.

nfl’s dirty player!toji who, despite his dirty plays, loves being called “The Bulldozer,” especially when it comes from his female fans. He enjoys knowing how manly they think he is.

nfl’s dirty player!toji who constantly mocks MLB’s best player, Gojo, in interviews because Toji has way more thirst-trap edits. “Oh, you’re talking about that scrawny guy? Of course they’re going to make more edits of a real man like me.”

nfl’s dirty player!toji who posted a photo with Stephen Curry after a basketball game (the second post on his barely-used Instagram) with the caption, “After f*cking Suguru Geto :)” and gained a million likes in under 20 minutes. (Not to mention, he absolutely despises the NBA star Geto.)

nfl’s dirty player!toji whose only trusted friend is his best buddy, the famous former boxer Shiu Kong.

nfl’s dirty player!toji who grew up in a terrible household where his family despised him.

nfl’s dirty player!toji who got the scar near his lip during a violent fight with his brother.

nfl’s dirty player!toji who hates that scar because it reminds him of the disgusting family that never loved him.

nfl's dirty player!single dad!toji whose jersey number is 22 (the day his son was born).

nfl’s dirty player!single dad!toji who, despite wanting to spend time with his son, reluctantly agrees to hire a babysitter because of his demanding job.

nfl’s dirty player!single dad!toji who is extremely picky about babysitters and has already rejected over 100 candidates.

nfl’s dirty player!single dad!toji whose eyes widen in shock when he sees your name among the applicants—what the hell is the coach’s precious, ten-years-younger daughter doing here?

nfl’s dirty player!single dad!toji who calls you for an interview, pretending he doesn’t know you’re the coach’s daughter. He’s stunned when you greet him casually (as if the man standing in front of you wasn’t a player on the team your father coaches.) and somehow manage to bond with his grumpy son, Megumi, in a way he never thought possible.

nfl’s dirty player!single dad!toji who growls in displeasure when he learns you’ve been secretly saving money from your dad to move abroad. But when you promise to keep everything confidential if he hires you, he reluctantly agrees—Megumi’s already won over by you.

nfl’s dirty player!single dad!toji who comes home exhausted from practice, seeking silence and peace, only to find you in the kitchen with Megumi, decorating cupcakes and singing loudly. He grits his teeth in frustration and retreats to his room, though he secretly marvels at how his son, who rarely cares about anyone, listens to you intently.

nfl’s dirty player!single dad!toji who ends up eating those cupcakes late at night and, despite himself, admits they’re the best he’s ever had.

nfl’s dirty player!single dad!toji who rolls his eyes when Megumi talks about how beautiful, fun, and silly you are, even though he thinks the same things himself.

nfl’s dirty player!single dad!toji who secretly feels happy when you invite him to your park day with Megumi. He acts disinterested but can’t help smiling when he sees you and Megumi playing football on the grass. He eventually joins your game just to make you lose (not because he’s eager to play with you or anything, of course).

nfl’s dirty player!single dad!toji who carries a sleeping Megumi home after the park and, when you say you should leave, grabs your wrist, pulling you closer to invite you to stay for a drink.

nfl’s dirty player!single dad!toji who sits on the couch in his massive living room, hesitant to start a conversation with you. When he finally manages to say, “Thank you,” and you respond with a warm smile, his heart pounds so hard it feels like it might burst out of his chest. This is not a good sign—he’s starting to fall for the one person he absolutely shouldn’t.

nfl’s dirty player!single dad!toji who drops everything during practice when he gets a call from Megumi’s preschool saying his son was in a fight.

nfl’s dirty player!single dad!toji who is relieved to find that Megumi wasn’t hurt but becomes enraged when he learns the fight started because another child called him a motherless bastard.

nfl’s dirty player!single dad!toji who calls you at Megumi’s request. When you show up 10 minutes later to comfort his upset son, all his anger dissipates. Even though he had explained part of the fight over the phone, seeing the worried and frustrated expression on your face makes him realize he chose the right person for this job. His heart knows it.

nfl’s dirty player!single dad!toji who grumbles when Megumi asks if you can sleep with him for the night but eventually agrees when you and Megumi give him those sad, pleading looks. He’s surprised to see you upset and can’t help but wonder if you might have some feelings for him.

nfl’s dirty player!single dad!toji who watches both his son and you sleep that night. His fingers lightly brush your cheek, and he curses himself, knowing someone as broken and ugly as him could never be loved by you.

nfl’s dirty player!single dad!toji who is stunned the next day when he goes to pick up his son from school and the boy Megumi fought with nervously apologizes, claiming he met Megumi’s mom.

nfl’s dirty player!single dad!toji who can’t sleep that night, replaying the boy’s words because his son didn’t have a mother. She left them. Instead of calling Shiu, he calls you in the middle of the night and, after hesitating, tells you everything that happened today.

nfl’s dirty player!single dad!toji who is shocked when you admit that after dropping Megumi off at school that morning, you confronted the boy (or rather, likely threatened him) and told him to stay away from Megumi. You also made it clear that he owed both Megumi and him an apology and told him to stop talking nonsense by saying you were Megumi’s mother. There’s a brief silence on the line after that. When Toji finally speaks, it’s only to say, “Don’t ever lie like that again,” before hanging up. That night, he decides he needs to drink until he forgets everything.

nfl’s dirty player!single dad!toji who, no matter how much he drinks, can never get what happened or what was said out of his mind.

nfl’s dirty player!single dad!toji who shows up at your apartment the next day after dropping Megumi off with Shiu. He storms in without waiting for an invitation, frustrated and angry.

nfl’s dirty player!single dad!toji who, with anger in his voice, tells you that getting so close to him and Megumi wasn’t a good idea, that you haven’t considered the heartbreak you’ll leave behind when you move abroad, and how unfair it is that you’ve made them love you so deeply. But the moment he sees tears streaming down your face, he realizes he’s completely ruined everything.

nfl’s dirty player!single dad!toji who, feels the sting of every punch you land on his chest in response to his words.

nfl’s dirty player!single dad!toji who, after hearing you say, “Don’t you understand, you idiot? I can’t leave you. I can’t be happy for even a single second without seeing you and Megumi. Ever since you let me into your little world, I’ve never wanted to leave. I-I don’t want to be without you, Toji. I want to be part of your small, beautiful family,” doesn’t hesitate for even a moment before crashing his lips onto yours. As he pulls back to catch his breath, he leans close to your ear and whispers, “I don’t think we could ever let you go, love. You’ve already become part of that small, beautiful family you wanted so much.” Then, he kisses you again, deeper this time.

nfl’s dirty player!single dad!toji who lies in your too-small bed, watching you sleep, realizing he’s the luckiest man alive.

nfl’s dirty player!dilf boyfriend!toji who, during practice, confessed to his coach (and future father-in-law) that he was in love with his daughter and that you had been looking after his child for a long time, only to get beaten to a pulp right then and there. He didn’t regret a single second of it.

nfl’s dirty player!dilf boyfriend!toji who, after practice, walked into the house with your father, battered and bruised, only to find you and Megumi waiting inside. When your father demanded you say it was all a joke, you simply replied, “I’m in love with the man whose face you just wrecked.” That earned Toji another punch from your father, but when your father saw the tears streaming down your face and realized how much you cared, he swore that if Toji ever hurt you, he’d kill him—no matter if he was the best player on the team.

nfl’s dirty player!dilf boyfriend!toji who, while cleaning his wounds, noticed your puffy, tear-swollen eyes. His lips curled into a smirk as he was about to tease you, but before he could, his son asked, “Are you guys dating?” Unsure of how to respond, he finally blurted out, “Yeah. I’m dating your mom, kid.”

nfl’s dirty player!dilf boyfriend!toji who, for the first time, trusts someone other than his best friend—his future wife, you.

nfl’s dirty player!dilf boyfriend!toji who, every time you kiss the scar on his lip that he hates—the one that reminds him of his horrible family—can’t help but wonder what he did to deserve someone like you.

nfl’s dirty player!dilf boyfriend!toji who, at every game, watches you and Megumi cheering from the front row and silently vows never to lose—on the field or in life.

nfl’s dirty player!dilf husband!toji who finally made you officially Megumi’s mother and his wife.

nfl’s dirty player!dilf husband!toji who posts the third photo on his Instagram, and it’s a picture from your wedding with you and Megumi.

nfl’s dirty player!dilf husband!toji who, during your first family vacation at the end of the season, watches you and Megumi playing in the ocean and realizes he’s no longer haunted by his past. All he sees now is the perfect family he’s built.

all rights belong to the @moonlitwitchdaisy do not copy, reproduce, or translate my work.

toji art by @sso_s_

divider by @cafekitsune

[nmakii]

must be love

— you find sae’s phone opened, and you decide to snoop.

or; sae gets exposed for being a fake idgafer. this is too sappy. 2.7k words, this is my longest fic in my whole life… what life feels like as a girl who loves too much core

tags: @narcjsistx

— for @itoshiluvbot. love ya, partner.

‘she seems really eager to please,

but she has quite the backbone.’

you huff out in frustration. “ah!! ugh…” you scowl. sae raises his eyebrow. “my groupmate never started on her share of the work… ugh, now i have to cram it..!” you explain your sudden outburst. sae scoffs. “then tell your teacher or something. it’s not like i can do anything about it, im not your teacher.” he, quite obviously, points out. “wh… ugh, i’m gonna… i just— needed to let out my anger.” you groan, face planting and screaming into your textbook. and he hums in response. although he didn’t show it on his face, your outburst was quite out of character for the person he had grown to know. it was… weird, to say the least. and it had caused him to make a mental note not to anger you.

‘her generosity knows no bounds.’

“sae, this is for you. merry christmas!” you hand him a wrapped box. “hm..? i don’t take christmas gifts.” he bluntly states. “i haven’t gotten any gifts since i was 10 years old.” you scoff to yourself. “maybe that’s why you’ve always got that stick in your ass.” you tease. “excuse me?” he glares daggers at you. “aaaanyway! open it!” you shove the box into his hands. he looks at the box, and then at you, and he decides to open it. “new cleats.” he acknowledges. yes, mhm. these were indeed cleats..! “i didn’t need these, i was going to buy them myself.” he states.

“i know, you could probably buy them yourself. but, i thought i’d save you the hassle, y’know?” how thoughtful of you. he eyes the cleats up and down; it’s an expensive brand, but it’s worth the price for the quality. “…thanks.” he says, at last. he didn’t expect a gift from you, he doesn’t have one prepared for you. he’ll make sure to buy you something you’ll love later. “oh! hold on, i wanted to give you some other things ♪~” you fish a keychain and envelope out of your bag and hand it to him.

“…cinnamoroll..?” he questions. “it’s cute right? i thought you’d like it.” what an odd way of thinking… never once has he mentioned anything about cinnamoroll. but then again, it is pretty cute. “…well, i won’t say i hate it. thank you.” he thanks you as he eyes the envelope. “ah, don’t read it in front of me..! i got a bit sappy, it’s pretty. embarrassing…” you awkwardly laugh. “ah, got it.”

later that day, he opened the envelope. there was a letter; it had cute doodles all over. and, he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t feel your affection radiating off the letter. it was… really sweet.

‘what a beautiful human being she is.’

itoshi sae is what you like to call a shy lover, if you were to put it kindly.

you know for a fact that he loves you, he just isn’t good at verbally expressing it. words of affection are too sappy for him. he prefers to show it through the thoughtfulness of his gifts, and the longing touches of his hands, which seem to never leave your’s.

you know he loves you. but, you can’t help but wish for him to say it more often.

it wasn’t many nights lately that the two of you would have a date night. with sae’s rigorous training schedule and endless interviews, the only thing he wants to do at night is to fall asleep beside you.

however, today was the end of the season. meaning, sae would have much more free-time for you.

with sae’s last game for the year completed in 0-4, the first thing he had to do was call you. even though you weren’t far away at all, sitting in the VIP lounge with the relatives and girlfriends of sae’s teammates.

“s/o?” he calls your attention. “mhm? congratulations on your win, babe! i knew you’d win.” you congratulate him. “they could barely keep the ball when they had it. is it really an achievement for me to have won this match?” he says, almost sassily. “pssh— alright. i get it, mr. ‘tepid.’.” you tease.

“don’t call me that.” he huffs. “stay where you are. i’ll go to you.” he commands. you hum in acknowledgment, and he hangs up.

he doesn’t keep you waiting too long before showing up. “there you are…” he sighs in relief, kissing you as his hands automatically find themselves on your body— one tangled in your hair, and the other resting on the curve of your spine.

once he finds the will in himself to finally pull away, he’s breathless.

he looks like he wants to say something, but he holds himself back, his fingers flowing through your hair. “…get ready for our date later tonight, yeah? formal wear.”

you nod, and his lips curl upward. “i’ll see you later.”

you decided to go all out, pull all the brakes. and when sae picks you up in his car, he can’t help thinking that you look like a dream. ‘are you sure you aren’t a model?’ he muses to himself. his heart twists, and the fat of his cheeks redden with affection. your hair flows like silk, and that glimmer in your eyes was once a star, handpicked from the skies, he’s sure of it.

everything about you encourages him to keep staring, but he manages to get ahold of himself. “…you…look beautiful.” is the only thing he can get himself to say. but, beautiful doesn’t seem to encapsulate it, not at all. it’s not even close. beautiful is only a fraction of what he thinks. “heh, you think so?” you ask. “yeah; beautiful.” he assures. “let’s go.” he says, barely turning his attention away from you as he turns to the road.

the drive to the restaurant is quiet, but sae’s mind is screaming at him. his eyes can’t stop moving back to take sneaky glances of you. he drinks up your beauty like a serpent, and he still hasn’t had his fill.

“…we’re here.” he pulls the shift into its’ brake. he gets out, and hands his keys to the valet boy— his words are inaudible through the car door, but he quickly finishes his conversation and moves to open your car door.

you take your first step out, and his hand immediately moves to help you out. god, you might be even prettier under the gleam of moonlight, shining like the pearl of the planet.

his arm moves and snakes around your waist, guiding you into the restaurant under the flash of paparazzi cameras. he grimaces at the loud, pitchy voices of news interviewers, begging for a comment; anything for a headline quote.

the gentle touch of his fingers tighten, as he silently encourages you to walk faster, and lose the crowd. the two of you hurry up, and dash into the restaurant, where you’re greeted with a dim candlelight, mahogany walls, and the rhythmic trumpet of jazz.

“welcome, mr. itoshi.” the receptionist greets. “your table for two is right this way.” she quickly guides the two of you into a secluded part of the restaurant, just like he’s always done as to make sure neither of you are spotted and harassed in public.

lamps hang on the walls, creating a romantic atmosphere. and the curved dark-brown leather booth couch perfectly complements the dark oak roundtable.

the date isn’t too different from the others. the two of you chat about anything that comes to mind. but, it’s actually more like it’s just you chattering on, and sae listening as he admires that excited grin on your face.

on the outside looking in, it’s obvious how he has heart eyes when he stares at you. he’s in a trance as he listens to the rich honeying sweetness of your voice; his finger traces the lines on the roundtable, wishing that it’d be the crinkles of your smile he’s tracing when he blinks and opens his eyes again.

his trance is broken though, when his phone rings. damn it, he forgot to put his phone on do not disturb… “something wrong?” you ask sae, and he takes his phone out of his pocket. “not sure. there shouldn’t be a problem, i cancelled everything for tonight. ugh… just a second, amor…” he remorsefully takes your hand in his as a silent gesture of apology. he took too long to pick up the phone, it already went out…

he opened his call app, and saw that it was from his publicist, dabadie. he groaned before picking up.

“sae! you didn’t mention that you’d be going out on a date today, your paparazzi shot is already all over social medias..!” he worriedly stammers. “i didn’t? well, whatever… it’s just a date photo anyway.” sae shrugs, speaking quietly to ensure that you don’t hear. “right— but… you know the internet… they might criticize you, and say that she’s distracting you from soccer…”

sae is about to correct him— he’s about to say that you aren’t distracting him from his career, but he holds back once he remembers that you’re right beside him, eagerly waiting for his attention to be back on you.

“i… have to speak to you for a second, im already outside the restaurant… the paparazzi didn’t censor out the location well enough either… so, the agency’s security car will follow you two home…” he adds on. sae sighs. “i have to speak to you too. i’ll meet you outside.” he hangs up. he huffs in exasperation and shallowly drops his phone, making it clatter on the table; the screen is left open on his call record. “im sorry, amor… i have to quickly take care of something, i’ll be back soon, i promise.” he kisses your hand.

“hmph, don’t worry. it’s dabadie, right? he’s always worried about something…” you laugh. of course you’d be understanding about it. you always understood. “heh, that he is.” he sasses before leaving the table.

…and you can’t help but notice that his phone is still open.

his phone is practically yelling at you, “check out what’s on me, s/o! check it out right now!”, and you simply can’t resist the temptation to!

first, you simply scroll around at his call record; nothing too interesting, it’s filled with calls from dabadie, and you. as well as occasional calls from his mom. how tepid, as sae would put it. you exit the app, and find his home screen wallpaper to be a picture he took of you; you’re looking out into the distance, the large castle of sleeping beauty in the background.

you smile to yourself at that cute photo, and move to his photos; it’s filled with photos of you, and almost none of him— not unless you were beside him. you scroll down to check out his older photos; they’re childhood pictures, only a few of them are with rin included.

…

…anyways, ‘what is in sae itoshi’s notes app?’, you ponder. you open his notes app.

‘things i want to eat: 1. omelette, 2. paella, 3. pesto pasta’

‘onitsuka tiger mexico - kill bill/grey, new balance 2002r - grey, asics gel NYC - oyster grey’

‘laundry’

‘i love you’

you laugh at the randomness of his notes, quickly scrolling through them. it’s true when they say that a boy’s notes is truly random.

but that last note catches your eye. it’s a pretty odd note that just says ‘i love you’ with no additional text. and, it makes you wonder.

sae’s an organized person, more or less. so, his notes must be filed too. and, you’re correct. there are three files; ‘lists’, ‘important documents’, and a file with your initial as its’ name.

the other two don’t seem as interesting, nor seem as mysterious. so, you click on the mysterious file.

and, the file is filled with everything about you; he’s written down your birthday (including the time…), your family members’ names, foods you like to eat when you aren’t feeling well, shows that you like to watch… everything.

and, there’s a note that catches your eye. it’s a cut-off sentence, since it was too long. you decide to feed your curiosity and click on the note.

‘she talks to everyone, even the people she doesn’t like.

it takes a lot to piss her off.

she’s always kind to me, after all.

she seems really eager to please, but she has quite the backbone.

she works really hard, but i don’t think many see it.

her generosity knows no bounds, and she always knows what kind of joke to make.

i didn’t think it was possible for a soul to be so beautiful.

nor, that someone like i would meet a soul like her’s.

but, im grateful to the stars above that i met her.

someone as kind as her deserves to receive all the love she gives.

i don’t think she knows how loved she really is though.

what a beautiful human being she is.

there simply isn’t enough words to describe the way her dimples crinkle when she’s happy.

the day she was conceived, the gods must’ve tenderly sculpted her heart out of ivory and gold.

the way she enamors everyone in the room simply by walking inside, and the way her personality shines in her rushed, yet sweet handwriting.

one day, i hope she’ll finally be perpetually happy.

so, that she can always shine that enchanting smile of her’s.

she deserves all of it.’

was this a poem..? it didn’t seem like it, it didn’t rhyme, and the stanzas didn’t have equal amounts of lines… but, the way he worded it out almost made it seem like he was a poet.

you don’t… even know what to think at such a romantic confession. it’s certainly much more than sae has ever verbally said to you. but, the fact that he had written this with you in mind makes your heart pound like crazy.

you’ve always known that sae loves you, but seeing his private thoughts all written out for you to read was… overwhelming.

“going through my texts, amor? i’m not texting any other woman besides you.” sae nonchalantly jokes. shit— time went quicker than you’d thought. “ah, nn… just got a bit curious, babe…” you hum. “what were you looking at..?” he asks, and his eyes widen the moment he sees what you were reading. out of all the things on his phone, that was the last thing he wanted you reading.

he embarrassedly closes his phone. “so… what was all that writing about..? were you trying to be a poet?” you jokingly ask; you knew that sae wasn’t mad, per say… he was probably just embarrassed. “n..no… it was, ah…” he clears his throat. “it was just… something i typed out when i realized i had many observations about you that i needed to write down. i just got sidetracked while i was typing.” he explains.

you smile, your entire body feeling like you’re on fire. the love you feel for sae itoshi feels like too much to contain in your heart. “it was really sweet, sae…” you assure him. for some reason, you have the odd incentive to just… cry right now. you love him so much.

“i know. but, it’s also too sappy.” he huffs. “aw, don’t be so shy… i know you’re just a huge softie under that tough surface…” you tease, moving closer to cuddle up to his side. “im not soft. i just love you, okay?” he groans. “don’t make me say embarrassing things.”

your smile widens, making him look at you with that lovesick look in his eyes. “aww… well, i guess i know how much you love me now anyway, so that’s good enough..!” you mentally fist pump at this small victory.

the atmosphere suddenly feels light again as you start to chatter again, teasing him slightly before going back to what you were speaking about before he had left. and still, sae’s looking at you like you’re the world cup trophy, like you’re all he’s dreamed of.

and sae thinks…

‘…you’ll know how sappy i can get when it’s our wedding day.’

but he should save that for another 5 years, or so.

[kateschi]

in the stillness

synopsis: after an injury leaves you in the hospital, your husband stays by your side and watches over you, silent for a moment.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

⊹ ࣪ ˖ notes: him saying 'my wife' does things to me tbh

the steady beeping of machines fills the quiet hospital room, but katsuki can’t hear anything except the pounding of his own heart.

his eyes stay locked on you, lying still in the bed, wrapped in bandages that make his gut twist every time he looks at them.

he’s sitting beside you, arms crossed tightly over his chest, jaw clenched like he’s fighting back the urge to scream.

there’s a storm brewing behind his red eyes, and you can feel it—see it in the way his shoulders are tense, in how his leg hasn’t stopped bouncing since he got here.

“you can go home, y’know,” you murmur with a weak smile. “you don’t have to stay.”

his eyes snap to yours, his scowl deepening. “absolutely not,” he growls. “I’m not goin’ anywhere. you think I’m leavin’ you like this?”

you chuckle softly, even though it hurts a little to laugh. “I’m fine, katsuki. it’s just a few bruises. you’ve seen worse.”

“doesn’t matter,” he snaps, but there’s a roughness in his voice, something he’s trying to bury beneath the anger. “it doesn’t mean I’m leavin’. I should've been there faster. you wouldn’t be in this damn bed if I had been.”

you frown at his words, knowing exactly where his mind is going. “katsuki, it wasn’t your fault. I’m a hero too, remember? I know the risks.”

he scoffs, looking away from you, his hands tightening into fists on his knees. “don’t give me that crap. I’m supposed to have your back, and I didn’t. I was too slow.”

his voice wavers for a split second, and you see the guilt eating him alive.

“hey,” you say softly, reaching out to grab his hand. he flinches at the contact, not because he doesn’t want it, but because it’s you—hurt, reaching out to comfort him when it should be the other way around.

“I’m fine, katsuki,” you repeat, squeezing his hand gently. “you got there. that’s what matters.”

his gaze locks onto yours, fierce and frustrated. “no, what matters is that you wouldn’t be here if I’d been quicker. I shoulda seen it comin’. should've—”

you shake your head, cutting him off. “stop. you’re beating yourself up over something you couldn’t control.”

“that’s bullshit,” he snaps, standing up abruptly, pacing in the small space between the bed and the wall. his hands run through his hair, tugging at the strands in frustration. “I wasn’t fast enough. you could’ve died, because of me being too slow.”

the words hang heavy in the air, and you can see how much they’re weighing on him, tearing at him. this is katsuki at his rawest—angry not because of anyone else, but at himself.

he’s always been his harshest critic, and now, seeing you hurt, he’s taking all that anger out on himself.

you sit up a little, despite the dull ache that runs through your body. “but I didn’t, katsuki. I’m right here. you saved me.”

he stops pacing, standing still, his back to you. his shoulders are tense, and you can hear him take a deep breath, trying to reign in the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside him.

when he finally turns around, his face is a mixture of anger and vulnerability—two emotions he’s never been good at handling.

“damn it,” he mutters, stalking back toward you. he sits on the edge of the bed this time, closer than before, and his hand finds yours again, this time holding on a little tighter.

“you don’t get it, y/n. I can’t—” his voice falters, and for a second, you see something crack in his usual tough demeanor.

“I can’t just sit here and act like it’s no big deal,” he says quietly. “seein’ you like that… I’m supposed to be stronger. supposed to be the one protectin’ you, and I couldn’t even do that right.”

your heart aches at how hard he’s being on himself, but you know this is how katsuki is. he carries the weight of responsibility like it’s his personal burden to bear, and any sign of failure hits him harder than it should.

you squeeze his hand, drawing his attention back to you. “you didn’t fail, katsuki. you got there. you stopped it before it got worse. that’s all I need.”

he doesn’t respond for a moment, just stares down at your intertwined hands, his thumb running over your knuckles absentmindedly. there’s a long silence before he speaks again, this time softer, more controlled.

“you’re my wife,” he mutters, almost like he’s reminding himself of it. “I’m supposed to keep you safe. you don’t get to get hurt like this.”

you smile, tugging lightly on his hand to bring him closer. “and I’m supposed to protect you too. we’re in this together, remember?”

he huffs, clearly still not happy with himself, but the tension in his shoulders eases just a little. “yeah, yeah,” he mutters, leaning back in his chair again.

but his hand never leaves yours, gripping it tightly like he’s afraid to let go.

“you’re not gettin’ rid of me,” he says after a long pause, his voice a little lighter now, though the worry is still there, lingering under the surface. “I’m stayin’ here until they force me out. and don’t even think about tryin’ to convince me otherwise.”

you laugh softly, the sound easing some of the heaviness in the room. “wouldn’t dream of it.”

for a moment, neither of you says anything, just sitting there in the quiet comfort of each other’s presence.

you can feel the intensity of his gaze, the way he’s still watching you like he’s waiting for something to go wrong, but you know he’ll calm down eventually.

he’s stubborn, protective, and always pushing himself harder than anyone else. but you wouldn’t have him any other way.

“rest, will ya?” he mutters after a while, his voice softer now. “I’ll be right here.”

you nod, letting your eyes close as you feel the exhaustion start to catch up to you. his hand is still holding yours, warm and solid, a constant reminder that he’s there, just like always.

you can barely catch him raising your hand to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to it.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[greengoblinswifey]

Redemption— Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

summary— you’re taken by Groff’s accomplices and you’re ex Rafe Cameron appears to save you unexpectedly. your past is full of pain but he’s determined to make things right.

warnings— ex to lovers, kidnapping, arguing, slight manipulation and coercion, oral(m&f receiving), fingering, choking, ass slapping, degradation, praise kink, daddy kink, unprotected sex, creampie.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

Rafe hadn’t planned on being part of the treasure hunt again, but when he heard about the Groff connection and Sarah dragging you into it, he couldn’t stay away. It wasn’t about the money this time—though he wouldn’t say no to a cut or possibly stealing it for himself—it was about you. Despite everything, he still cared deeply, even if he didn’t show it the way you deserved.

Your relationship had ended months ago, crumbling under the weight of his issues and the way he treated your friends. You’d made it clear you didn’t want to see him again even during the trip. But when he found out you’d been kidnapped by Groff’s men, something inside him snapped. He couldn’t think straight until he had you back.

When he first showed up to give his help, your cold glare hit harder than any insult. “You shouldn’t be here, Rafe,” you’d said flatly, refusing to meet his eyes.

He tried to explain himself, but you cut him off. “I don’t trust you, not after everything. You treated my friends like garbage, and you don’t get to come in now and play the hero.”

“I’m not here to play the hero,” he’d said, voice low, almost pleading. “I’m here for you.”

But there was no time to dwell on old wounds. Chaos erupted, and by the time the dust settled, he’d saved you from Groff’s accomplices and now you were both hiding out in a grimy motel room.

“You didn’t have to come after me, Rafe,” you snapped, pacing the cramped space. “I don’t need a knight in shining armor. Especially not from someone who ditched us when we needed him.”

His jaw clenched as he leaned against the door. “You’re seriously saying that to me? You all left me to almost get arrested! Like I was nothing.”

“You were nothing when you couldn’t pick a side!” you fired back, glaring at him.

“I did pick a side,” he shot back, stepping closer, his voice dropping. “I picked you. That’s why I’m here.”

His words hung in the air, the weight of them undeniable. You scoffed, looking away, but your resolve wavered as he moved closer.

“You think I don’t care?” His tone softened, a crack in his armor. “You think I didn’t lose my mind when I heard they took you? I couldn’t—I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

Your breath hitched, but you shook your head. “You have a funny way of showing it.”

Rafe’s hand caught your wrist gently, turning you to face him. His gaze burned, the anger and pain in his eyes mirrored in your own. “I’m here now,” he murmured. “Let me prove it.”

You didn’t have time to argue before his lips crashed into yours. The kiss was desperate, heated, and filled with all the unspoken emotions you’d both buried. Your fingers curled into his shirt as his hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer. The frustration and anger melted into something you couldn’t name, something that felt like it could destroy you both if you let it.

Rafe’s hands were everywhere, his lips trailing from your mouth to your neck with a desperation you hadn’t felt in months. You wanted to lose yourself in him, but the anger resurfaced, and you pushed him away, chest heaving.

“I can’t do this, Rafe. Not after how you’ve treated us—how you’ve treated me.”

His jaw clenched, but his voice was soft. “I got a ship for all of you. I stayed civil even after you tied me up. I’m here, trying to prove myself to you. I still want you. I can’t do this without you—I can’t be better without you.”

Your emotions threatened to spill over, but instead of crying or screaming, you grabbed his shirt and pulled him back. The kiss was fiery, tangled in resentment and longing, as his hands roamed your body again. His lips found your neck, and a moan escaped before you could stop it.

“You’re such a piece of shit,” you muttered, your voice shaky.

“Yeah?” His hand slid lower, brushing under the fabric of your outfit and finding your pussy. “Well, you’re wet for this piece of shit.” His voice was low, teasing, as his fingers found their way inside.

You gasped, torn between shame and pleasure. “You’re disgusting, Rafe. I can’t stand you.”

“And yet here you are, you’re a slut for liking this,” he whispered against your neck. “Hear how wet you are.”

The heat built unbearably, and you couldn’t stop yourself. As your body betrayed you, the orgasm was laced with mortification. You turned away, unable to meet his gaze, but he just smirked softly. “You can hate me all you want,” he said, his voice a murmur. “But I’m not going anywhere.”

He slipped his fingers coated in your arousal in your mouth and your tongue swirled over them.

“Good girl,” he chuckled.

“You never know when to shut up, do you?” you snapped, rolling your eyes as Rafe smirked. His hands rested confidently on your waist, pulling you closer.

“I could say the same about you,” he quipped, his voice low and teasing. Before you could retort, he dropped to his knees, silencing you with his actions.

“Don’t,” you started, but the heat of his touch made your words falter.

“Stop pretending you don’t like it,” he murmured, his eyes locked on yours, as he licked your pussy. Despite yourself, a soft moan escaped you.

“That’s what I thought,” he said smugly, and you could only glare as he gave a satisfied grin.

Rafe’s grip on your hips was firm, his strength keeping you in place despite your squirming. Your fingers tangled in his buzzed hair, tugging as whimpers slipped from your lips. His focus didn’t waver, and you felt yourself trembling under his relentless attention.

“Rafe,” you whispered, your voice breaking with a mix of defiance and surrender. But he didn’t stop until your entire body tensed, a soft moan escaping as you reached your peak. He looked up at you afterward, his expression smug and victorious.

Rafe leaned back, a smug grin on his face as he palmed his cock through his pants, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. “Look how hard you got me, baby,” he said, his voice low and confident. His hand moved slowly, emphasizing his words. “You used to always help me out with this, come on, suck daddy’s cock.”

The nickname made you wince, memories stirring. He saw the hesitation but leaned in closer, voice softer but insistent. “You know you want to,” he murmured, his gaze challenging, daring you to resist.

Rafe pulled his hard cock out, his size drawing a breathless reaction from you, it looked like he’d gotten bigger, if that was even possible. He chuckled, the sound dripping with arrogance. “Come on, baby. Help daddy out,” he coaxed, his tone a mix of command and temptation. Despite your resolve, you felt yourself falter, unable to resist the magnetic pull he always had on you.

Arching your back, your ass high in the air, you leaned down, taking him into your mouth. His groan was instant, his hand finding your waist before he smacked your ass. “That’s my good girl,” he muttered. You rolled your eyes and took him into your warm mouth, bobbing your head at the right pace to have him moaning. You used your hand to stroke what couldn’t fit in your mouth as his balls tightened and his breathing grew ragged. Just as he was about to release, you pulled away.

His laugh was one of disbelief. “You’re such a brat,” he muttered, shaking his head, though the amusement never left his eyes.

Rafe’s warm hands moved to your bare thighs, rubbing it slowly as he looked up at you with those blue eyes. He knew it was your weakness. You were already soaked but having him caress you like that practically turned you into a fountain. He had you right where he wanted you.

“My cock really misses that tight, wet pussy,” he whispered, his voice low and husky.

“Yeah? Well if you want to fuck me, you’re gonna have to beg,” you retorted.

Rafe let out a mocking chuckle, as if he couldn’t believe those words left your lips. His little baby wasn’t such a baby anymore.

“Seems like we’ve been apart for so long that you’ve forgotten, Rafe Cameron doesn’t fucking beg.”

He snaked his hand around your neck, pulling you into a heated, rough kiss. Your tongues slipped into each other’s mouth, the feeling one that made you melt. He pushed you onto the bed by your neck and took his position above you.

“You’ve also forgotten that this is my pussy and I saved you, I’ve fucking earned it,” he said, with that cocky smirk plastered on his face.

Everyone had their weakness, for Sarah it was John B, for Pope it was Cleo and for you— well, it was Rafe Cameron.

You spread your legs and he smirked, resisting to make a snarky comment as he dragged the head of his cock up and down your wet folds. He placed it on your clit, teasing you as you squirmed underneath him.

“Please,” you whimpered, wanting nothing more than to have him plunge his cock inside you,

“Look who’s begging now,” he said, darkly.

He lifted your legs around his waist and you locked them as he sank into your pussy. His hips bucked and his pace faltered as he had to slowly push in and wait for you to adjust to his size.

“So tight f’me, glad no one’s been inside this pussy since we broke up.”

You gave him a slight push on the chest but your attack was halted as he thrusted into you all the way. Your jaw fell slack as you gasped for air feeling him fill you to the brim.

“S’okay baby, just breathe, daddy’s here,” he cooed, leaning down to kiss your lips.

He began rutting steadily inside you, whispering little praises that made your stomach flip. You wouldn’t admit it but a part of you missed having him above you like this. By now he had taken off his shirt, revealing the muscle underneath and the sweat glistening on his body. You ground against him, your clit getting the stimulation you desperately craved and sending pleasure through you.

“Oh God, daddy,” you moaned, meeting his thrusts faster.

“You gonna cum baby? That’s it, cum for me,” he murmured.

Rafe’s pace sped up, hitting the sweet spot inside you as your release hit you like a truck. He continued fucking you through your orgasm, your legs shaking as he did, the pleasure almost too much.

“Good girl, there she is,” he cooed, “I knew you wanted this too.”

“M-more,” you managed to croak out.

“Oh my baby wants more? You want daddy to fuck you even more? What a dirty little slut.”

He complied with your request, flipping you swiftly onto your stomach and pulling your hips up to him. You arched your back the way you knew he liked it and he kissed your ass before rubbing his cock along your folds.

“God baby, did I mention how much I missed this wet pussy?”

He slammed into you from behind, gripping your waist as he brought you back onto his cock, hard. Your ass clapped against him and he watched mesmerized as his cock disappeared inside you and came out covered in your cream and juices.

“Daddy,” you moaned, shamelessly as he rolled his hips into you. You couldn’t hold back anymore. You couldn’t see his face but you knew he had on that smug look and you gasped as he pressed your face into the pillow, pounding into you at a deeper angle.

“You really like that huh, fuck, your pussy is just gripping my cock so well baby, cum for daddy, cream all over my cock.”

He slapped your ass, basically giving you the go ahead as you shuddered under his touch, his name leaving your lips continuously as you creamed all over his cock. Unable to stop himself, he stilled inside you, his load spurting as he moaned your name and you felt his dick throb against your walls.

He rolled over, pulling out of you but not before spreading your ass to watch his cum drip out.

You stared up at the ceiling, wondering what you were doing with your life. You were in a random motel in Morocco and you hooked up with your ex after he saved you from kidnappers, meanwhile your friends were probably out looking for you, worried sick.

“Uh, we should go, they’re probably looking for me,” you sighed, getting up. He took a piece of cloth and wiped between your legs. Silence fell between you but oddly, it was a comfortable silence. You looked into his eyes and saw nothing but care and sincerity. He really did come for you and was actually trying to change and do right by you all.

[sparklingchim]

game on 02 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 2.9k

genre: footballer!jungkook, fake dating, f2l

rating: 18+

warnings: lots of smoochies !! 🤭, their first kiss <3, umm mentions of jk's infamous threesome again 😔, koo talks abt taking girls in missionary what can i say he is a man

summary: jungkook and you practice acting for the cameras. kissing him feels more right than you anticipated.

a/n: yayy chapter 2 is here!!!! <3 writing this was truly saur much fun n i hope u have fun reading too !!! 😋

read chappie one here

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"Just kiss me."

"Hold on a second."

"We really need to practise this."

"I know, just give me a minute."

You scoot away from Jungkook on the couch. You were sitting so close, almost about to kiss him actually, but his intense, doe-eyed gaze made you pause, needing a grounding breath.

You’ve never been this close to his face, and somehow, you can’t seem to cross the invisible line that keeps you from just pressing your mouth on his. Jungkook’s your friend, after all. You’ve known him since he was five and once saw him get his head stuck at school, so of course it’s weird.

You press your lips together in an attempt to focus, and lean in again, but once your eyes meet his, a smile urges on your mouth.

"Oh my god." Jungkook’s frustrated sigh cuts the air. "This can’t already be doomed to failure because of a simple kiss."

"It’s not! I just need to mentally prepare myself."

"I feel...offended? Kinda?" Jungkook weaves his fingers through his hair. "I’ve never had to convince someone to kiss me."

"It’s not you. I promise!" you say, reaching for his knee. "Under any other circumstance, if we weren’t friends, I’d love to kiss you. You’re hot and cute, but the situation we’re in makes me feel so stupid. It’s absurd."

Jungkook cringes when you call him cute and removes your hand off his knee.

Yesterday, when Jungkook showed up unannounced, it took him full ten minutes to convince you he wasn’t pulling a prank on you.

Who would believe their friend begging you to fake date them? It’s ridiculous. Only happens in the fictional world.

But then Jungkook showed you the pap picture that was circulating online. The comments and gossip were nasty and you knew he was caught up in a deep mess.

In the photo, Jungkook was surrounded by two girls, his arms draped casually around their waists as they stumbled out of the club, a half-full drink lazily held in his hand. His hair was a tousled mess, likely from the girls running their fingers through it, and the first few buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a small peek into his defined chest. It was bold, provocative — definitely not the ideal image of a responsible twenty-year-old football rookie.

Probably the worst pap pic you’ve seen of him so far. And the worst timing too.

"You were wasted," you commented, staring at the article he was showing you on his phone.

"And I had so much fun last night." His voice was tinged with frustration, like a child whose favourite toy had just been snatched away. "But then I woke up to this picture, and a flood of missed calls and texts." He rubbed his hands over his face, exhaling sharply. "They just had to ruin it for me."

Noticing your raised eyebrow, Jungkook quickly backtracked. "No, I know it’s my fault too. I shouldn’t have done this right before the World Cup, especially after what I promised. I just hate how everything turns into such a big deal, just because... well, just because I’m me."

The idea of fake dating Jungkook had seemed absurd, something out of a rom-com rather than real life. But the more he explained the pressure he was under, the more you understood why he needed this.

Jungkook was your best friend, and if kissing him in public could save his career, why not help him?

While you got ready for meeting his manager, stepping out of your comfy, rotting-at-home clothes, which consisted of little shorts and an oversized t-shirt (you think it’s actually Jungkook’s, but you’re not quite sure since it’s been in your closet for years now), and slipping into a casual, more presentable outfit, Jungkook busied himself fixing your laundry machine.

Jungkook’s manager knows you well – his entire team does. You are known as Jungkook’s close friend and had been spotted with him on multiple occasions.

Taesung greeted you warmly, though surprise flickered across his face when Jungkook introduced you as the solution to the fake dating plan.

You felt Taesung’s gaze assessing you, weighing your suitability for the role. Jungkook’s PR agent mirrored his scepticism, tilting her head in doubt. They exchanged uncertain glances, which made you nervous, but Jungkook was determined. Jungkook wasn’t Jungkook if he didn’t get what he wanted. With a few persuasive words and his usual charm, he quickly won Taesung over, who sighed and leaned back in his chair, conceding defeat.

"We need to establish the narrative from the start," Taesung said seriously. "The media will dig into your background, and they’ll want to know if there’s anyone else in the picture. So, to be clear, you’re officially single. No boyfriend, no complicated past relationships that could surface. We don’t need any messy stories."

You assured them that there was none. Multiple times. No angry exes, no secret relationships – your personal life was as drama-free as it could get.

Taesung slid a document across the desk.

"This ensures that whatever happens, no details of this arrangement-"

Jungkook’s hand shot out, halting the paper. "No," he said firmly. "She doesn’t need to sign anything."

"Jungkook, it’s just a formality," Jiwoo began, but Jungkook insisted.

"I trust ___. She’s not just anybody. She’s my best friend. If she says she won’t talk, she won’t talk. The NDA isn’t necessary."

"It’s okay," you assured him gently.

Jungkook shook his head. "No, this is ridiculous. You’re not signing a stupid contract."

After more arguing, his manager eventually relented.

Jiwoo outlined the plan in more detail with Taesung – public appearances, social media posts, carefully orchestrated moments that would sell the story to the public. You felt a bit intimidated by the pressure, but you’d get used to it. After all, this arrangement is only for a few months – just until his management can announce that you’d mutually decided to break up on good terms.

But you both need to practise before stepping in front of the cameras.

Which leads you to this moment, a day later, sitting on your couch trying to practice how to act like a couple. And it’s not going well at all.

"Okay, let’s start from the basics then," Jungkook suggests. He rises to his feet, offering you his hand. "Hold my hand."

You gingerly accept his hand, standing up as well.

"See, don’t we look cute?" Jungkook drags you to the mirror. "Or maybe – let’s intertwine our fingers. I think that would look better." He holds your interlaced hands up between the two of you, a satisfied grin plastered on his face. "So cute, right?"

A giggle bubbles in your throat. "You act like you’ve never had a girlfriend."

"Well, it has been a while," he admits, the slightest sulk on his lips. "I’m too busy for relationships." He swings your hands. "The only times I ever hold a girl’s hand is in missionary, above their head when-"

"Jungkook," you interrupt quickly before he can delve any deeper into the story. You give him a mock glare, but there’s no hiding the amusement dancing in your eyes. "Didn’t we both agree on only talking about your bed stories after I’ve had at least one bottle of soju – preferably two, so I can mentally brace myself?"

You love him, you really do, but you don’t want to hear about his bed stories, unless you’re the slightest bit tipsy at first.

"Oh, yeah." He shakes his head apologetically. "Forgot about that."

"Wait, maybe that’s what we should do!" you exclaim as an idea pops into your mind. Your hand slips out of his, and you take a step toward the kitchen. "I think there are a few bottles of soju in the fridge."

"We’re not getting drunk to build up the courage to kiss," he insists. "We shouldn’t need alcohol to pretend we’re into each other."

Jungkook pulls you closer to him, and you stumble slightly, but his hand instinctively moves to the small of your back, steadying you.

"Fine," you sigh dramatically, hand on his chest. "Was just an idea to make this easier for us." The fabric of his shirt is extremely soft and your fingers glide over it.

"I mean, it’s not like we’re complete strangers. And they know it too. We’ve been through enough to pull this off without breaking a sweat."

He’s is right. The public knows you’re one of Jungkook’s closest friends. It wouldn’t be totally unbelievable that you two might have fallen in love.

After all, you’ve always been comfortable with each other —hugging, cuddling during movie nights, play-fight over silly things just to annoy each other. You’ve shared quiet moments, like when you’d fall asleep on his shoulder after a long day or when he’d run his fingers through your hair absentmindedly while you talked. There were times when Jungkook was exhausted and crashed at your place, your fingers gently scratching his head as he slept peacefully. You’ve kissed each other’s cheeks in thanks without hesitation.

Jungkook’s touch isn’t foreign to you.

And still, the thought of acting like you’re in love when you’re not feels strange. Sure, you’ve always been physically close, but this was different. This time, every gesture would be for an audience, every touch would carry a different meaning. It wasn’t just casual anymore.

"I guess," you reply, fiddling with the hem of his oversized t-shirt, avoiding his gaze for a moment. "I think it’s just weird to be this close for show."

Jungkook watches you for a moment, his eyes softening as he considers your words. "Yeah," he murmurs. "But it’s not like we’re faking the friendship part. The rest...we’ll figure out." His fingers clasp your hip, the pads of his fingers gently digging into your flesh. "Don’t think about it too much," he says. "When we have our first public appearance as a couple, pretend like the cameras aren’t there, act nonchalant. Just... y’know. You and me."

You pout, an involuntarily frustrated grumble leaving your lips as you drop your forehead on his chest.

"I hope I’ll do well under all the attention."

You’ve dealt with your fair share of noisy people trying to pry into your relationship with Jungkook, but so far, it’s been somewhat manageable.

"Just you and me," Jungkook repeats, his tone softer and more assured this time. "Nothing can happen to you when I’m there."

You glance up at him, taking in the gentle lines of his face.

"Maybe you should’ve hired a girl that can deal well with attention," you voice your thoughts.

"No." Jungkook’s immediate response rolls off harshly on his tongue. "You were my first thought. I wouldn’t have done this with anyone else but you."

"I was your first choice?" Giddiness makes your face shine.

"Yeah. I don’t think I would’ve felt comfortable with anyone but you."

"Be honest, you just really wanna kiss me."

You stand on your tippy toes, a silly smile spreading across your face.

Jungkook cocks his head to the side, a teasing glint buried in his eyes.

"I think you do."

With a surge of confidence, you take a small step closer, your heart beating a little faster as you close the gap between you and Jungkook. Your lips meet in a gentle, fleeting touch. The contact only lasts for a moment before you pull back, your eyes searching his for a reaction.

"That was a smooch. Not a kiss."

You frown upon hearing him complain.

"What, you want to make out with me in public?"

Jungkook sniffs a laugh. "No, but maybe a little more than how fifth graders kiss."

"You’re a kissing expert now?" you quip back, narrowing your eyes at him.

Jungkook leans in slightly. "I just know what I like."

The challenge in his voice sparks something in you. "Then show me how you like it."

His gaze drops to your lips, and a flutter of excitement spreads in your tummy. It’s unexpected and thrilling and it catches you off guard.

Jungkook’s hand, which had been resting on your back, slowly glides up, his fingers curling around the side of your face, his thumb brushing delicately against your cheekbone.

Your breath hitches as he leans in. His lips meet yours again, but this time there’s more weight behind the contact – still soft, but deeper, more intentional. His lips move slowly and there’s a warmth to it, a tenderness that makes your heart race even as the kiss remains gentle. He tilts his head slightly, deepening the connection just enough to make you melt into him.

The teasing atmosphere lingers in the back of your mind, but for now, it’s pushed aside by the gentle pressure of his lips on yours.

Kissing Jungkook doesn’t feel weird – which makes it a little weird.

When you both finally pull back, it’s gradual. You can feel his breath, warm and steady, mingling with your own.

"Like that," he whispers, his voice barely audible, yet it sends a shiver down your spine. "You’re a good kisser."

You pull back completely. "Excuse me?" you say. "You were doubting my kissing abilities?"

"No, not at all!" Jungkook shakes his head, amusement crinkling his eyes as he gazes at your sulky face. "You’re just a very good kisser. Like, super gentle and smooth."

Heat crawls up your cheeks. You ignore the flush of warmth and keep your composure. "Have you been using the lip balm I got you? Your lips are soft."

"I know, right? Not chapped at all anymore."

He traces two fingers along his bottom lip and your eyes follow the motion, finding yourself inexplicably drawn to his lips.

"Are we done practising?"

"Do you think we looked natural?" Jungkook’s hand slips into yours once more. While he is focused on the mirror, adjusting the way your bodies fit together – tugging you closer, alternating between holding your hand and interlacing your fingers – your mind is still replaying the memory of the tender press of his lips. "For me, it felt pretty natural. Not awkward at all. What do you think?"

It’s the simplicity with which he says it that draws a short laugh out of you.

The sound grabs his attention. "What?"

"You’re just...extremely serious about this. I don’t think they’ll analyse the way we hold hands, Kook."

"But that’s their favourite thing to do," Jungkook replies. "The gossip mills love analysing every step you take, where your eyes wander, who you smile at." A note of bitterness threads through his words.

He’s been playing pro for just two years and has fallen victim to greedy people intruding on his life so many times already. Former friends who leaked private conversations, acquaintances who turned their brief interactions into tabloid fodder, even strangers who felt entitled to a piece of him just because he was in the public eye.

Jungkook searched for solace and silence at your place many times, trying to escape the madness. In the quiet of your dorm, breathing felt easier.

You never asked questions, never pried. In a world where everyone seemed out to get something from him, you just let him be, offering him the comfort of your presence without demanding anything in return.

"People were just criticising this dude – ah, who was it again?" Jungkook stares at the ceiling, raking through his thoughts. "I can’t remember his name, but this guy was getting called out for choosing the booth seat while making his girlfriend sit in the aisle seat."

"The aisle seat? Come on, it’s an unwritten rule that-" You fall silent once you catch Jungkook’s pointed expression. "I mean, yeah. It’s definitely wrong to make a big deal about it. Maybe she prefers sitting there," you shrug.

"But do you see what I mean?" he asks. "Whether you intend to or not, you’re always judging what others do. And that judgement only intensifies when it involves a celebrity."

"Ah, when did you become so famous Jeon Jungkook?" You sigh, looking down at your linked hands.

"I know, right? Two years ago, no one would’ve cared if I had a threesome." He shakes his head in disbelief. "And now I am being punished for it—kicked off the national team, and my best friend has to save me by fake dating me."

"I feel like this would make a good movie," you giggle.

“We have to practise hard, then," he says.

You pull your phone from your pocket. "What if we film ourselves kissing so we can monitor it better?" You set up your phone on a nearby shelf and position yourselves in front of the camera. "Don’t engaged couples do this? I feel like we’re practising for our wedding kiss."

"Oh, butterflies."

"Huh?" You stare at the way he holds his hand against his tummy.

"You just told me you want to marry me. That gave me butterflies."

You slap his arm. "Stop being silly, we have a whole nation to fool that we’re in love."

~

Hang outs with Jungkook often end with the two of you lounging on the couch, snacks scattered everywhere, and a movie playing on the TV.

"Next one?" Jungkook asks from his spot beside you, inching closer with his pleading doe eyes.

You try to push him away by the, but he doesn’t budge.

"I need to study. Like, for real." You had warned him before starting the movie, agreeing to watch only one, but he still tried his luck.

He holds up one finger. "Just one."

You push him off your body, and this time he allows it, his back slumping against the couch. The grumble of complaint in his throat gets muffled by his pursed lips.

"You’re smart. The material is probably set in your brain anyway. No need to revise anything."

You scoff at his bratty words.

"So you won’t ever need to ditch hangouts for football practice because you’re already so good at it?"

"Well, no." He drags the word out, brows furrowed as he considers your question, trying to come up with a reasonable answer. "But I know you don’t need to study as much as you do. You’re just naturally smart."

"I wish, but I ace my exams because I study as much as I do."

"Aish," Jungkook mutters, standing up from the couch and stretching his limbs. His toned tummy peeks out from under his lifted shirt.

"Karina will be home soon anyway," you say. "And I’m not ready to play pretend in front of her yet." The thought of confessing to your roommate that Jungkook is now your boyfriend makes you shudder.

It was one of the conditions that made you briefly reconsider if you could really pull this off or if Jungkook should find another girl. You didn’t just have to act in front of the cameras – everyone had to believe that you and Jungkook are a couple, including your friends and family. You dread the day you have to tell your parents.

You know they once secretly hoped Jungkook would become your boyfriend when you were older, but as he became famous and the public started scrutinising his every move, your parents grew wary of his wild, reckless side.

You follow Jungkook to the door.

"You think she’ll believe us?"

"I dunno," you shrug. "Not sure if she’ll buy it. She’ll probably be suspicious since I’ve never talked about you in that way when we gossip, but I think we’ve practised enough to at least make it look like we love each other."

Jungkook nods and hugs you briefly. "We’ll figure it out." He steps out of your apartment, typing on his phone. "My manager sent me details about our first public appearance." He scans the text, but quickly looks up at you again with an annoyed frown. "Ah, so many words. I’ll just forward you the messages." With a sweet smile and a quick wave, he starts to leave, but you tug at the back of his shirt.

You cup his face, pulling him down to you, and plant a kiss on his lips.

"You’re my boyfriend now. Act like it."

[dexteri0us]

i think i'm 'bout to explode, i can taste the tension like a cloud of smoke in the air

pairing: dexter morgan x f!reader

warnings: hints of fluff, smut - unprotected sex, slight spanking (hand and belt), oral (f receiving), fingering, spitting, slight choking, biting, dom!dexter, blood (i mean, obviously, he's a freak); sassy dexter

summary: requested: "...morning sex with dexter before he goes to work..."

w/c: around 5k

a/n: your wish is my command. thanks for requesting! :)

You and Dexter were perfect for each other – or close enough. You loved his bluntness, his dry sense of humor (which wasn’t always humor) and his demons, whatever they were. You had your suspicions, but you had yet to muster the nerve to ask him directly about them. It was so frustrating, because you prided yourself on opening controversial or inappropriate topics. You kept telling yourself that you were just afraid of losing the tension between the two of you once you’d call him out on his nocturnal disappearances.  

Some nights, he’d come home at an ungodly hour, collapsing into the bed beside you like gravity finally caught up with him. Occasionally, you’d wake to his stubble brushing your cheek as he laid kisses along your face. More often than not, you were too tired to make something out of it, and usually, you also assumed he’d just gotten off on something else, because he would sigh and nuzzle into you like he was still riding en endorphin rush.

You rarely engaged in a sex in the middle of the night, unless he demanded it. Once, you told him he could do whatever he wanted with you. Yours and Dexter’s sex life had its own intricate taxonomy:  I am objectifying you right in this moment and want your body sex or my hormones are acting up sex. The list was long, really, but at the very top was something went wrong sex. That was your favorite, but too bad for you, because it wasn’t very often that you got to experience it. Dexter is very careful and focused most of the time. He doesn’t make mistakes. The bright side of that: you’d never ever get tired of it. Those nights felt like Christmas. No. Better than Christmas.

One evening, he came home earlier than usual (you weren’t even asleep yet). He was so angry. So frustrated. And you wanted to help. You set aside the book you were reading (it was about a woman who fell in love with a sociopath. safe to say, it was an intriguing read) when he stormed into the room. You crawled to the foot of the bed, watching his sharp movements with wide eyes as he took off his army green shirt.

You’d always imagined yourself grinding on him while he wore his uniform. And that time was no different. But that night wasn’t about you. It was about him. Well, partly.

“Can I help?”

“No.” his tone was clipped as he continued to move frantically around the room.

You weren’t sure if you should push his buttons. Your heart beat out of your chest from the nerves. Part of you thought maybe you should back off; the other part – it thrived on the uncertainty, the thrill of not knowing how far you could push before he snapped.

“I could make you something to eat…”

Horse shit. You couldn’t cook to save your life, and he knew that. But he just scoffed, the corner of his mouth twitching into a humorless smirk.  

“How about a bath? I could light those lavender candles and throw in one of my bath bombs.”

“I said no.”  

You were still kneeling on the bed, dressed in your checkered shorts and a spaghetti strap tank top. Trying to act as innocently as possible.

“Do you want–”

He finally charged toward you, cutting you off mid-sentence. “Do I need to spell it out?”

Finally. Bait taken.

You looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes, slowly rising to your knees. The top of your head barely reached his chin, forcing you to tilt your neck to meet his gaze.

You started placing kisses along his collarbone, trailing up over his shoulder and to his neck. Your hand rested on his chest, palm splayed over his heart.

“Any chance I can sub in for one of them tonight?” you murmured, your lips brushing against his skin.

His brows furrowed and then shot up. “Them?”

You felt the sudden quickening of his pulse beneath your hand. You nibbled on your lower lip as you nodded.

“Who’s them?”

Instead of answering, you tanhled your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and pulled him down into a kiss. It was a reassurance, a promise that you’d always be there. Okay, maybe you did it because you didn’t want him to leave you. You didn’t want to activate a chain reaction.

He leaned into you, his hands sliding to your waist, holding you. When your lips parted, your forehead rested against his.

“You tell me, Dexter. Or don’t. I don’t care. But I want you to be happy. Do whatever you need to me if that’s what it takes.”  

Pathetic? Most definitely. But who cares? He secretly loved it when you got like this – whiny, needy, entirely his.

His hand cupped your right cheek, his thumb brushing a faint vertical line against your skin, the nail scratching just enough to leave a fleeting mark. But his gaze darkened again, pupils dilating, like he was replaying unhappy memories.

He kissed you then – hard and insistent. His hand circled your neck, his thumb pressing just underneath your ear, while the rest of his fingers gripped the other side, his pointer brushing against your earlobe. Your hand instinctively shot up, clutching his forearm as if steadying yourself for what was coming.

Long story short, he fucked you that night, like never before. And since then, you’d been relying on your own version of Thorndike’s Law of Effect: if you wanted to ignite that fire in him, to get destroyed by him, you had to be a brat. Acting like you had control was the fastest way to make him prove otherwise. Sometimes you suspected he loved control more than he loved you. You’d told him that once, and he’d said you were being dramatic. Again. Well, you could still weaponize it.

The problem was, Dexter was otherwise a calm and patient boyfriend. He tolerated your antics with an almost infuriating ease, whether it was leaving the windshield wipers on long after the rain stopped or overbuying carrots at the farmer’s market only for him to help you eat the whole bowl of carrot salad. He even helped you find reliable owners for the stray cats that always “followed” you home. He was so good to you, and that’s why you always had to wait for something to go wrong. That’s when he was at his weakest and that’s when you struck.

Today’s the day. It was Friday and you didn’t have any classes, so you hadn’t set an alarm. You usually managed to wake up before 8 am – not too early, not too late. But this time, it wasn’t the sunlight or your internal clock that stirred you awake. It was the sound of chewing. Muffled munching, punctuated by the occasional scrape of a fork against a plate.

You cracked your eyes open, squinting as the golden rays of the early Miami morning sun flooded the room. You groaned softly and turned to look at the clock on the bedside table. 7:42. Acceptable.

Blinking the sleep away, you shifted your gaze to Dexter. He sat propped against the headboard on his side of the bed, a plate balanced on his lap, spearing pieces of egg and bacon with his fork before shoving them into his mouth.

What the fuck?

He never ate in bed. One time, when you’d brought a bowl of popcorn to share during a movie night, he’d almost thrown you out.

“I’m not a clean freak. You just can’t even drink out of a bottle without spilling it all over the place,” he’d said. Well, he wasn’t wrong, but you’d managed to convince him anyway.

Now, though? Now he was the one violating the sacred no-food-in-bed rule.

“Morning,” you mumbled, your voice still groggy as you reached for him.

He paused, registering your movement, and turned to you. His fork hovered mid-air as his gaze softened, just enough for him to take your hand and press a kiss to your knuckles. It was a gentle gesture, the grease from his lips lingered on your skin.  

“Hey,” he said, offering a weak smile. His voice carried a strange edge too, almost shaky.

You watched him carefully, he turned back to his food and with a quick flick of the remote, he raised the volume on the TV you hadn’t even noticed was on.   

The screen showed a reporter standing in front of a crime scene, her voice urgent as she rattled off details about a recent incident. They flashed an image of a man – the criminal – and then back to the reporter.

Your eyes darted from the TV to Dexter. His brow was drawn low, his stare almost predatory as he watched the broadcast. His jaw tightened and released, the muscles flexing as he chewed. Occasionally, his teeth ground together, producing a faint, grating sound.

He was in the mood. And it hit you.

He never ate in bed. He wanted you to provoke him. A slow smirk curled your lips.

“Careful, Dex. You might intimidate the reporter through the TV.”

His grip on the fork tightened and chewing came to an abrupt halt. He exhaled sharply through his nose, not amused.

“Not today.”

“Did someone leave a typo in their lab report or what?”

He stuffed the rest of his food into his mouth without so much as glancing at you.  

“Drop it.”

“Oh no, did Masuka out-gross you again?”

The plate clattered onto the bedside table with a force that made you flinch. Before you could react, he was on you. In a flash, his hand gripped your cheeks, his face hovering dangerously close to yours.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?”

That was easier than you thought.

“Funny? No. I think I’m just observant.”

His eyes narrowed, dark and unrelenting as he studied you. His grip on your cheeks tightened just enough to make your lips purse.

“Is that what you call running your mouth until you get yourself in trouble?”

You couldn’t help it. Even with his face inches from yours, his hand firm on your cheeks, you smirked. “Please, Dexter, you’re all bark and no bite.”

Now you were just being annoying. He was actually all bite and no bark. His jaw ticked anyway, a muscle jumping just beneath his skin. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your lips as his nose brushed against your cheek.

“You really want to test that theory?”

You tried to shrug, but his grip on you made the movement awkward.

The air between you was thick, electric. His eyes searched yours, and you finally saw that primal tweak of his.

Then, without a warning, he released your cheeks and grabbed your wrists, pinning them to the bed on either side of your head. His strength was effortless, his movement precise.

“If you don’t come at least four times until I have to leave for work, I’m not gonna let you come for four weeks at all.”

Shit. Four weeks is a long time. That’s a whole month!

“Now you’re setting ultimatums?”

“Your time is running out, you sure you want to talk back?”

And that was your cue to finally keep your mouth shut.

“Good girl.” He said, the words sending a jolt straight through you, and you became acutely aware of the wetness pooling in your sleep shorts.

“On your knees. Grab the headboard.”

You obeyed without hesitation, pressing your chest into the mattress as you shifted onto your knees, sticking your ass into the air. You felt the fabric of your shorts clinging to your slick pussy in a way that was both uncomfortable and relieving.

Dexter moved behind you, his hand brushing over your hips, the touch almost gentle before he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your shorts. He tugged them down, watching the material stick to your pussy, making his cock twitch in his pants. You squirmed under his fingers as they brushed against the skin of your thighs, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“Jesus, you’re sopping wet. Am I even surprised?” He said, bringing his fingers to your cunt and skimming them along the center from your hole, down to your clit. As he grazed that little spot, you bucked your hips into his hand, only for him to retreat it and bring it down in a swift move, slapping your clit and sending a tingling into your stomach. You moaned, not expecting him to get rough so soon.

Then, he kneeled next to you. You were too afraid to turn your head, but you could see with your periphery vision the tent in his pants. He brought the middle finger and the ring finger of his left hand to your mouth, and you opened without hesitation, wrapping your lips around them as he slid them all the way in. For you, it was awkward from that position, the fingers hooked in the corner of your mouth, forcing it to tilt slightly.

Once he decided that they were wet enough, he removed them and the same arm reached under you, his forearm touching your stomach as his fingers, now slick with your saliva, reached your pussy. They slid between your folds with ease, the two fingers pinching your clit between, before rubbing circles into it.

The tension in your stomach coiled tighter with each movement. You squirmed under him, needing more than he was giving you, and he knew that. But when you started moving too much, he slowed, barely grazing the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Dex,” you whined, your hips moving, trying to chase the friction he was withholding. But his only answer came in a form of a slap to your ass. Your mouth opened in a silent cry, and your hand instinctively let go of the headboard and reached for your cheek in order to sooth the pain. But before you could touch your own skin, his free hand was wrapping around your wrist, holding it high and causing your muscles to strain.

“Don’t make me tie you up. You don’t have time for that.”

You nodded in silent obedience, and you gripped the headboard again, focused on not letting go. His hand was still teasing your clit while his other hand reached from behind and played with your hole, your slickness sticking to his fingers. For a moment, he was enjoying the feeling of it, of you on his fingers. Then he spread the wetness up and over your asshole. He only teased your back entrance, returning to your pussy and plunging his fingers inside, making your grip on the headboard tighten, as well as your walls around his fingers.

Dexter’s fingers worked you expertly, curling upward to hit that spot inside you that made your eyes roll into the back of your head. The movements of both his hands were in sync, the combination driving you to the edge as he upped the pace, relentless and unforgiving his fingers thrusting deeper, while also pinching your clit harder and occasionally grazing a nail over it, sending shivers down your spine.

The room was filled with the sounds of your gasps, Dex’s occasional grunts and most importantly, the squelching sounds of your drenched cunt. You were almost embarrassed by it, and Dexter made sure you felt that shame.

“Listen to yourself. So messy.”

Your response was a broken whine, your body trembling as his fingers curled just right to hit that devastatingly perfect spot again and again and again. His other hand maintained its tormenting rhythm on your clit, switching between sharp pinches and soft, tantalizing circles as your juices dripped from your hole to your clit.

Your knuckles became white from the hold you had on the headboard, your focus on not letting go and letting go at the same time. The pressure pulled you further under, and when he felt you clench around him, he pressed harder, his fingers moving with even more intensity.

“You wanna come?”

“Yes,” you whined, your body shaking with the overwhelming sensations.

“Don’t forget your manners, sweetheart.”

The pressure was unbearable now, your release so close you could taste it.

“Please, can I come?”

“Go ahead.” He growled, his fingers resuming his relentless pace, the wave of pleasure hitting you like a tidal force, crashing through every nerve in your body. You cried out, your body convulsing with the intensity of your climax. Your thighs trembled and your grip on the headboard faltered, but you were quick to remember to hold on, otherwise he wouldn’t let you ride it out.

Dexter worked you through the aftershocks, his fingers slowing but still keeping you riding that high until you were an overstimulated mess beneath him. When he withdrew his hand, you thought he’d give you a moment to gather up, but instead, in a quick motion, he was behind you, spreading your ass and burying his face between your cheeks.

Your body twitched as you felt him press his tongue flat on your puffy clit, shaking his head from side to side before catching it between his lips and sucking on it. The stimulation too much, you even tried to pull away even though you didn't really want to. It was to no use anyway, he followed you and his hands pushed against the small of your back, limiting your movements. He kept sucking on your bundle of nerves, his nose nudging your wet opening.

The thought of him being this messy alone made you so fucking horny and needy, as if you weren’t at the maximum capacity to feel those things.

Dexter pulled another whine out of you when he tugged on your clit with his lips, pulling back until he let go with a pop.

“You get so fucking sweet when you’re on your on your knees.” He said before returning his tongue to your pussy, running it flat up and down your lips, spreading your cunt and mixing his spit with your juices before he slurped it all up.

Your hand itched to let go of the headboard and cover your pussy to give your swollen clit a rest, but you were afraid of what he might do if you disobeyed again.

Besides, eating you out was his favorite thing in the world, and bad things would happen if you deprived him of his favorite activities.

One time, he’d made you ride him for so long until it was physically impossible for you to lift your ass. He’d proceeded to call you lazy, and had you dared, you would have slapped him.

Now, too much was at stake. He flicked his tongue against your clit repeatedly before finding your entrance and plunging it inside, the wet muscle massaging your walls. He loved your taste, he loved how you squirmed, he loved how slick and sticky you were. And you loved how animalistic he was about it, and how he didn’t care that you were overstimulated.

He dragged his tongue in and out of you, and then finally, it returned to your clit, his teeth grazing the sensitive spot. And the slightly sharp sensation was all it took to send you over the edge again. Your pelvis twitched against him, his hands squeezing the flesh of your ass, dragging his nail against you aggressively and leaving red scratch marks behind.

You loved them more than bruises. You could get bruises anywhere, sometimes they appear, and you don’t even know how. That's a common knowledge. But chafed, irritated skin? You know exactly how it gets there. You remember it. It evokes memories.

He hummed against your hot, wet flesh, the vibrations only accelerating your orgasm. You mewled, almost screamed, but you didn’t want to seem overdramatic. Your cum spilled straight into his mouth and he drank it all down as if he didn’t want to waste a single drop. He caught it on his tongue, licking you through the orgasm. Your upper body felt so numb, while down there, it was like fireworks. And when you finally started coming down, he slowed down, laying kisses over your pussy lips and your butt and your thighs. You felt the wetness his mouth left behind, your slick slowly drying on your skin. It was almost comforting, feeling him be so soft. You felt like curling up to him, falling asleep in his embrace.

“Three to go. You think you can make it?” He asked, and you heard him move behind you, followed by the sound of his buckle as he removed his belt.

You looked at the clock. 8:02. You didn’t think you could, but even if you did, it was in his control. He was just manipulating you to think that it was yours. Or he was just mocking you. He knew you weren’t stupid.

“You think you can?”

The leather belt came down on your ass, to the same place he’d slapped before. You made a note about checking out that bruise later.

 “You’re only giving me reasons to spank the shit out of you.” He said, dragging the belt across your ass, before touching the curved part to your pussy. Once it was gone, you waited for Dexter to hit you there too, but the blow never came.

“Let go of the headboard.”

Your brows furrowed, but your confusion quickly disappeared when he hooked the belt around your neck, yanking you upwards, your back against his chest and his clothed cock nestled between your ass cheeks.

You subtly ground against him, making him purr into your ear, which made you smirk. He gripped both ends of the belt in one hand, while his other arm snaked around your waist, his hand slipping under your tank top and squeezing your breast. The way he pinched and tugged on your nipple made you buck into him with more force, and he reciprocated, grinding against you, giving in to his own pleasure. Then his hand disappeared from your body and you heard the sound of him spitting into his palm, before he brought it to your pussy. As if you weren’t completely drenched. He knew you loved how disgusting the thought was. How lewd you felt when he did that.

For him, this was nothing compared to the things he did during his free time.

Then without a warning, he released one end of the belt, causing you to collapse face-first into the bed. He unbuttoned his khaki pants and pulled his cock out before grabbing your arm and turning you on your back.

You finally got a good look at him - strands of hair sticking to his forehead, his eyes dark framed by lashes that looked like he'd used an eyelash curler (something you envied him). You admired him. Not just for his look, though that part was obvious. He knew he had women turning their heads in his direction. But they didn’t know the brilliant mind beneath it all. He was so clever, so undeniably smart, and that was what truly excited you. That a neat man with a compartmentalized brain like his could get so messy when it came to sex. Like now, all sweaty, his cock leaking onto the sheets. Some of the precum probably landed on your cunt too. The thought alone sent another wave of pleasure building deep in your abdomen.

He leaned down, his tongue flicking into your pussy in one swift motion before crawling over you and capturing your lips in a kiss, making you taste yourself on his tongue. His hand slid to your neck, his thumb pressing firmly against your pulse point, making you aware of how fast your heart was pounding. You moaned into his mouth as he applied a touch more pressure for a split second, giving him the chance to slide his tongue deeper into your mouth. You sucked on it, tasting the tanginess that he'd collected from your lower lips.

Without warning, with just a sublte shift of his hips, he was inside you. A low moan escaped him as he felt the tightness of your walls, and you let out a soft whimper at the stretch. He didn’t move at first. He kept kissing you and his hand slid down your body, squeezing your boob again, rolling the nipple between his fingers. Lowering his head, he wrapped his mouth around your sensitive peak, sucking gently on your tit. Your fingers tangled into his hair, your nails scratching lightly against his scalp, pulling him closer.

His teeth grazed your sensitive nub, sending a jolt through you, and in one fluid motion, his arm snaked beneath you, lifting and sitting up as he pulled you onto his lap. He started thrusting his hips into you, holding you in place, his cock gliding effortlessly along your slick walls.

Leaning forward, his lips found your other breast, his tongue tracing lazy circles around your nipple before his mouth opened wide, taking in as much of your soft flesh as he could. You arched against him, your back curving as your hads pressed his face closer, your head tipping back in ecstasy.

He kept on fucking you, hitting that sweet spot inside of you that made you dizzy. He drove his cock into you, quickening the pace, a sign that he was getting close. His arms around you tightened and then suddenly, you felt a sharp pain originating in your breast and going straight to your pussy, making you clench around. He was fucking you hard and deep, and when you looked down, you saw him still latched onto your tit, his upper lip covered in crimson.

You felt the sting from the way he was sucking on you, and when he finally removed his lips from your breast, you saw red drops dripping down your breast, the blood leaking from the bite marks where his upper teeth sank into your skin. You were mesmerized by it, and you wanted more. You pushed his face back against your sore nipple and Dexter surprisingly didn’t argue. He licked the blood off you and sucked again while ramming into you. Your body shuddered, and finally your third finish was brought on by a couple of additional thrusts of his hips. Then he laid you flat on the bed and chased his own release. You pulled him up by the chin, meeting his lips in a sloppy kiss as he fucked you hard and fast until he spilled inside of you.

Once you both came down, he was lying on top of you. You wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him affectionately, because you were so content that he was there with you.

But you were yanked out of your dreamland when he rose to his feet, making your brows furrow.

“That was only three,” your tone couldn't be more confused, as he headed to the bathroom.

“Yeah, but I need to shower and pick new clothes to wear. Can’t go to work with your cum all over my pants.” He came back to the bedroom with a smile on his face, as if he just hadn’t fucked the shit out of you. “Last one’s on you.”

“On me?”

“Yes. Make yourself cum before I leave. If you don’t, you know the consequences.”

He gave you a quick peck on the lips before disappearing into the bathroom.

Asshole. He knew you’d lost the ability to make yourself cum shortly after you’d started sleeping together. But luckily, you had your stash of toys that might help you with your problem.

With the roll of your eyes, you rolled over and reached into your nightstand, but in that moment, he peeked from around the corner.

“Oh, and your hands only.”

“What? That’s not fair!”

His face dropped again.

“You want to tell me what’s fair and what isn’t?”

You slammed the drawer shut and fell on your back, your body bouncing on the soft bed.

“Good girl. And no cheating. I’ll keep the door open. If I so much as hear something else that isn’t your fucking scream, I swear you’ll have to work your ass off to make me let you come ever again. Understood?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

You hadn’t done this in a long time. It almost felt unnatural. But despite that, your fingers dropped to your clit, and you began pushing yourself over another edge. Or at least you tried. But it was pointless. You tried to squeeze your wounded breast to get that rush going, but it didn’t have that effect this time. It only made you sweaty.

He managed to finish his shower before you made yourself orgasm, obviously. When he entered the bedroom with a towel around his waist, he looked at you with feigned pity.

“Aww… Don’t tell me my baby needs a manual to get herself off.”

“Dex, come on. You know I can’t make myself orgasm,” you tried to reason with him, but he wasn’t going to budge.

“I can’t do two things at once, I’m only one person,” he argued, as if it was the most logical thing in the world. “This is for your own good. I gave you an opportunity to make it to four before I have to leave. It’s not my fault you’re not capable.”

You huffed, bringing your fingers to your pussy again, stuffing them inside yourself and trying to fuck yourself, but again, to no avail.

He even laughed at you, and when you opened your eyes, you saw him already with his work bag slung over his shoulder, hands casually tucked in his pocket. You’d lost.

“Fuck, I wish you could see yourself. So desperate. It’s like your world has been destroyed.”

“It kinda has.”

He came to your side of your bed where you were still lying with your hand between your legs. He leaned over you, brushing the hair that stuck to your forehead and placing a soft kiss there.

“Take that as a lesson. You shouldn’t take a bait if you can’t handle the hook.”

And with that he turned on his heel and left, leaving you wrecked and messy, the most agonizing four weeks of your life just now beginning.

a/n2: i'm thinking it's kinda more vanilla than i intended it to be, but oh well... thank you for reading!!

[sistertotheknowitall]

Some guy finds Red Hood annoying.

Masterpost

All Danny wanted was one peaceful day. That was all. What does he get instead? A 6’ foot, jacked, vigilante crime lord. (Anti-hero, is that what he is? Danny wasn’t sure.) Now Danny’s not gonna say that a tall, built, hot as hell morally gray bad guy isn’t always unwelcome. It was just this one. (Unless, apparently, you’re Jazz. “Seriously?” “Look I don’t need saving but if he wants to come to my rescue, who am I to complain.”) They have gotten into many fights since Danny first moved to Gotham. ( He had chosen to live in a crime alley despite being able to afford slightly better. The money from his college fund was dumped entirely into said school and the money he earned went to bills and groceries.) Said screaming matches weren't even really fights; they were closer to the squabbles he’d get into with Jazz as an annoying way to express concern for each other. (A habit they, unfortunately, learned from their parents.) So having these types of arguments with said morally gray crime lord had Danny wondering if it was too late to cancel Jazz’s flight. (She boarded an hour ago.) He didn’t want them meeting, actually he’d like to keep her as far away as possible.

That’s why it was really inconvenient for these guys to kidnap him today. He had to get his sister from the airport and now he had to deal with Red Hood? Really? Other than Dickwing, Red Hood was the last person Danny wanted to see in a kidnapping situation. At least the others didn't make him feel like he was disappointing them. Only Jazz was allowed to make him feel the sting of disappointment at being reckless (and occasionally Sam and Tucker). Now, Danny thought he had decent common sense (“Shut up, Jazz.”), but he would gladly admit that he didn’t have Gotham common sense. He wasn’t afraid to go out at night just because the Riddler got out of Arkham. Honestly, he didn't see why he had to be afraid given any time of day. Danny was pretty sure he was basically immortal. (“Immortality is not dying and coming back as a full ghost.” “Then what would you call it, Jazz!?”) This seemed to frustrate Red Hood to no end as Danny lived in his part of the city and Danny was prone to finding trouble. (It actually seems to find him, Danny’s not actively going out and looking for it. He’s just trying to get on with his life.)

Anyway, yeah, Jazz was flying in for the weekend and somebody had kidnapped him. A perfectly normal Thursday. So, in perfectly normal Thursday fashion, Spoiler and Red Hood had swooped in while Danny was in the midst of a really intense staring contest with the kidnapper across from him. (“You know the staring is flattering when Tim does it but you make me feel icky.” The man didn't move and his hard stare barely wavered. “Alright, but I warn you I’m really good at this game.”) A flash of purple and the goon was no longer standing. Red Hood had come in guns blazing and made quick work of the other two kidnappers as Danny waited patiently to be untied. He could have phased through the chains he was hanging by but he didn't see a reason to. Just because they knew he could turn invisible didn’t mean they needed to know about everything else. (“That’s gaslighting, Danny.” “Technically, Sam, I think it’s lying by omission.” “Tucker.” “Right, not helping.”)

“Sooo,” Spoiler sang once Danny was free. “Who’s Tim?” You know what? Maybe it was Spoiler he should have been dreading. Red Hood made his way over, “yeah, kid, you got a boyfriend you didn’t tell us about?” Mm no, he regrets being in both their presence. Danny waved their questions away as he turned in a slow circle looking for the door. He wasn't quite sure of the time, but he was positive he was late to pick up Jazz. He answered as he made his way to the unconscious body of the guy who lost the staring contest, “a friend, well, a customer - a regular really. Nice guy, cute, has a staring problem.” Danny stooped down and started digging through the guys pockets, “do either of you know where the exit is?” Thankfully the guy was the one with his phone, he didn't want to search all the kidnappers. Turning it on, Danny saw that he was late and Jazz had already caught a taxi back to his place. The text had got increasingly more panicked the longer he hadn’t responded along with an alarming number of missed calls. 

Danny shot her a quick text as he followed Spoiler out of the building. Sorry, got kidnapped, am fine now. Please don't call. Will explain later. Love ya <3 He quickly added a selfie that Spoiler photo bombed over his shoulder holding up a peace sign. 

The screen immediately lit up with a facetime call. Danny turned it off and stuffed it in his pocket. He really didn't want Jazz meeting Red Hood.

He turned to face his “saviors.” “Okay, this has been fun. Thanks for the rescue, sorry I can’t stay and talk but I am needed elsewhere.” Throwing a quick salute he started down the street. After a block and a half he stopped at the opening of an ally. “You know I hate it when you all just stalk me from the shadows, it's very Babadook of you.” Hood appeared first behind Danny, “what's Babadook?” “A gay icon,” Spoiler drops in front of Danny. “Very true,” Danny high fives her as he hears Red Hood sigh, seeming to mutter to himself, “this is going in the folder.” “Okay,” Danny says, addressing both of them, “you don't need to walk me home.” Red Hood crossed his arms, “you’d rather your ‘Tom’ walk you?” Danny really really didn't want Jazz to meet Red Hood. Danny sighed, “His name is Tim and he’s just a friend and I’d rather nobody walked me home, I’m a fully capable adult.” “Capable huh? That’s what you call last week’s fiasco?” Last week’s fiasco being an incident that may or may not have involved a cult trying to sacrifice him. (He was insulted that they were trying to sacrifice him to a low level demon. He was the king of the infinite realms and they were using him to summon Craig? Really? Not that they knew any of this but still. Rude.) Spoiler placed her forearm on Danny’s shoulder to lean, as if he wasn't a few inches taller then her. “Not to mention tonight's kidnapping.” Danny shrugged her off. “And you two saved me,” he started slowly backing away into the alley behind him, “so, danger avoided.” Red Hood's hand shot out and grabbed Danny by the back of his shirt collar, “uh-uh, you're not pulling the disappearing act tonight.” Danny had indeed been intending to disappear and fly home, now he was being scuffed like a kitten. In hindsight he had pulled that move fairly often with Hood. Crossing his legs Danny refused to be set down on his feet so Red Hood dropped him. “Ow!”One peaceful day, was that too much? (Luckly, they didnt follow him into his building and just watched him enter. Unluckily, he had a worried and very annoyed older sister to face.) (“A selfie, Danny?! Really!?” “I wanted to assure you it was really me!”)

Part 7

[misstycloud]

Yandere cowboy x fem.reader

Yandere! Cowboy who’s the towns sweetheart. How can he not be? He helps every troubled soul he comes across, doesn’t matter who they are. He works hard every day to easy the load of providing for the family, he’s not a child anymore, of course he’ll do anything he can to help out! Besides, who wouldn’t fall for those muscles and pearly smile? You’d be crazy if you didn’t.

Yandere! Cowboy who you meet the first day of your ‘vacation’ to stay at your grandparents. Your parents though you’d been acting up the last weeks so they decided it was best to send you away for the summer, much to your dismay. Now you’d have to text your friends that you can’t hang out at all. Damn it. Being forced to stay in a in-the-middle-of-nowhere town definitely wasn’t your top priority. There was practically no service and nothing to do all summer. You’ll be bored out of your mind unless you manage to find something to entertain you. Luckily, there does appear to be something worthy of your attention- or rather, someone. It’ll certainly make things more interesting.

Yandere! Cowboy who you think is kinda cute, if not a little weird. He’s no doubt very different compared to the boys in the city- speaking in that special accent, wearing worn overalls, sweat at his forehead everytime you meet and practical thinking above all else. Still, you find yourself intrigued by his contrasting personality.

Yandere! Cowboy who is enchanted by you. You’re just so….wonderful. Funny enough, he also thinks you’re different, which interests him. Normally, he isn’t the type to brag and is quite humble, but he isn’t blind. He can see the way the girls in town drool over him. He knows he’s attractive. But you, you don’t fall over your feet whenever you gets a glimpse of him. You don’t stutter over every word while talking to him- in fact, you’re as cool as a cucumber. It almost seems like you’re flirting with him.

Yandere! Cowboy who notices you way your eyes sparkle when you speak of your interests. He starts thinking about the way you sound when laugh, how you pout when you’re frustrated and what you look like when you’re sad. It’s all beautiful. You are beautiful. Soon, it’s not only that he focuses on. Now, every time you’re walking ahead of him, he pays attention to the curve of your ass, how your hips sway when you walk, and suddenly he finds himself having to adjust his pants.

Yandere! Cowboy who you enter a special relationship with. You’re more than friends but less than actual lovers- that’s how you see it at least and you believed that’s what yan! Cowboy wanted, too. You two spend all your free time together in each others arms and going on cute dates around town and in the forest.

Yandere! Cowboy who wishes to marry you. You’re his perfect match! It must be fate that you ended up in their little town. He’d give you a big beautiful ring- he’s saved up quite a bit during his years of working, so he can easily afford it- and let you have whatever wedding you imagine. He’d make sure it’s exactly how you want it. Then, he’ll personally build you a house. Of course, before he starts working on that, he’ll need to know if you want a porch, what kind of shutter you want and what colour should the exterior be, would you like a fireplace?

Yandere! Cowboy who can’t believe it; you’re leaving? You say that summer is over and you don’t have to stay there with your grandparents anymore. You almost seem…relieved. No, that can’t be it. You love him! Right? Or was the connection he felt just one-sided?

“Sorry, you weren’t meant to catch feelings for me or anything. I just wanted to have fun, pass the time y’know.

“So I didn’t meant anything to you? Not even a little bit?…”

“I do like you. But I live in the city and my stay here was never going to be permanent. Like I said, I’m sorry it got a little too serious.”

“…….”

“Yeah, I gotta go now. I wish you well though, see ya.”

Yandere! Cowboy who spiraled after you left. You’ve dug yourself too deep in him. He can’t imagine going on about his life like you never existed. He thought you could be happy there, even if wasn’t like the big city you were used too, but that was clearly not the case.

If he had to uproot his life and move to be with you, then so be it. He wonders if you’ll be happy to see him again.

[oneforthemunny]

living in a material world |dom!eddie munson x sub!reader|

prompt: you have a new year's resolution to save money, and eddie is more than willing to help you. based off this no spend prompt idea

contains: minors dni. smut, smut, smut!!! dom/sub themes. everything is consensual. it's kinda soft!dom in a way?? not super bratty or super hard dom. dom!eddie / sub/brat!reader. spanking. alcohol. oral male and fem receiving. aftercare duh. language. shopaholic reader lol. they love each other and they're really kinky and horny.

word count: 8k+

New Years Eve, 1989 

“What’re you doin’ out here?” 

Arms folded over your chest, you stepped out onto the back patio of Steve Harrington’s home, the bitter chill of the night sending your body into a near shock. It was cold, so cold you were surprised it wasn’t snowing; too cold for Eddie to be sitting out in. 

“Hi, baby,” Eddie mumbled, lips wrapped around the cigarette that hung loosely from his lips. A cloud of smoke exhaled with his words, the familiar burning of nicotine filling the air, luring you to him. “Just came out for a smoke.”

“Hm,” You hummed, slinking with careful dragging steps towards the metal lawn chair he was sitting in, hands sliding down his leather jacket, squeezing his shoulder affectionately. The effects of too many plastic flutes of champagne were starting to take their toll on you, leaving your head a little cloudy. 

“Wondered where you went.” You sighed, carefully moving to stand between his legs. 

Eddie’s free hand found your waist, sliding over the velvet of your little party dress- he’d told you that you didn’t have to dress up, that his friends wouldn’t care, but you insisted. It’s New Years Eve, Ed, you told him with an eye roll that had him swooning. He was glad you dressed up anyways, always a little treat for him to see you in pretty things like that. 

“C’mere,” Eddie muttered, cigarette hanging loosely around his fingers, pulling you into his lap, grinning at how you squealed gently. “I know you gotta be freezing, sweetheart.” 

You leaned into the warmth of his chest, head pressed into the crook of his neck, letting his arms wrap around you, holding you close. “How are you not cold?” You muttered, words starting to slur gently, eyelashes fluttering with sleep. 

Eddie snickered around the smoke that rolled out of his nose. Such a lightweight, he’d tease, always poking fun at you for falling asleep the second a drop of alcohol hit your system. 

“No, I’m fine- hey,” Eddie’s leg bounced, shaking you on his lap. “Gotta stay awake, baby, it’s not even midnight yet.” 

“I am awake.” You scowled at him, tossing a glare and a pout his way, brows pinched in frustration. “I was just resting for a second.” 

Eddie snorted, bumming his cigarette in the ashtray. “Right.” He scoffed, hands sliding down your tight clad legs, squeezing your thigh gently with affection. “C’mon, sleepy girl, still got an hour until midnight.” 

Head tipping back to lay on his shoulder, your glazed eyes met Eddie’s, lashes batting up at him sweetly, a lazy smile on your face. Eddie’s heart swelled at the sight, your smile infectious, making his lips curl with you. 

“What?” Eddie said around a smile he tried to swallow. 

“You gonna kiss me at midnight, Munson?” He could smell the champagne on your breath, feel the warmth of it close to his skin.

“No, I think I’ll go for Jeff this year.” Eddie chided sarcastically, eyes rolling big and dramatic for show while his dimples creased in his cheeks. “Was that a real question?” He looked at you playfully. 

“Jeff?” You giggled, sitting up straight. “Jeff’s my replacement?” 

“Yeah, sorry, sweetheart.” Eddie shrugged playfully. “He just knows more about D&D, just knows the way to my heart.” 

You shoved his shoulder, rolling your eyes with a grin that matched Eddie’s. “Of course I’m gonna kiss you at midnight.” Eddie shook his head lightly, hands finding your waist, pulling you back into his chest, nose pressing into your shoulder, leaving a tiny kiss that had you squealing with silly giggles. 

“Might even take you up to one of Harrington’s guest rooms. Kiss all over you at midnight.”  Eddie’s voice dropped to a low gravel, leaving you shivering with anticipation, his teeth grazing playfully, nipping at your shoulder. 

“Stop,” Your cheeks burned, tingly with heat from the alcohol, from the way Eddie made your body rush with excitement. Eddie’s lips pressed against your shoulder again, hand on your tummy, pushing you back into him so he could kiss his way up your neck, leaving hot, wet kisses in his wake. 

“Eddie,” Your groan was anything but convincing, teetering on a moan. “Stoooop.” Nasally and whiny, just how Eddie liked it. 

“I’m not doing this out here.” You muttered, willing yourself to pull away, head tilting from his lips. 

“Why not?” Eddie muttered, lips vibrating on your soft skin. “We’ve done it plenty of times outside before.” 

“Yeah, but not when it’s twenty degrees outside.” You scoffed, his warm hand smoothing over your cold, tight clad legs. “Let’s go back inside. I’m freezin’.” 

Eddie groaned when you stood, body absent of your touch, but your hand still in his, tugging him lazily out of the chair. “Fine,” Eddie’s chains jingled from his jeans, standing with a soft grunt. “But, hey, you gotta stay with me, alright?” His hand found yours, fingers intertwined, the metal of his rings cold against your skin. 

“I wanna kiss you right at midnight. Gotta stay by me.” Eddie’s grasp pulled you into his side, squeezing your hip with affection as the two of you stepped back into the warmth of the party. 

“Hey, hey, look, there he is,” Gareth greeted Eddie loudly, a hand thrown at him in emphasis. “See, ask him now- Robin! Ask him now!” 

“Ask me what, Buckley?” Eddie rolled his eyes, reaching for the plastic cup of beer he’d set by the door. 

“We’re talking about our resolutions.” Robin smirked, proudly, a little darkly. “And we wanna know what your resolution will be for this brand new decade? Hopefully a better taste in music?” 

“That should be yours,” Eddie snided with a scoff over Steve’s bark of laughter. “And yours,” A finger jabbed into your shoulder. “Both of you have the worst fuckin’ taste in music I’ve ever heard.” 

“Oh, says you-” 

“-Yeah, Ed, that’s really bold coming from you. All your music is just loud.” You huffed, rolling your eyes big, for show. You didn’t miss the way Eddie’s brow quipped in warning. It made your spine tingle. 

“Loud, yes.” Robin nodded. “That’s the best word to describe it. Just loud.”  

“Well, yours is just bad.” Eddie scoffed. “Madonna?” 

“Oh, please,” You laughed. “You love Madonna.”  

Eddie’s lips tightened, pinks burning gently at the chorus of laughter his friends gave. The statement was a stretch, you knew it. Eddie liked that you liked it, and he especially liked when you’d sing for him in the van, silly and sweet. 

“Alright, alright, that’s enough kids.” Steve rolled his eyes, voice raising over Robin’s and Eddie’s. “Let Munson speak.” 

“I don’t have any resolutions.” Eddie shrugged. “I’m already perfect.” 

“Boo!” Robin cupped her hands around her mouth, sound echoing over the music. “Come on!” 

“I’m not participating in one of the stupidest societal pressures that have ever been created just because-” 

“-Here we go,” Jeff muttered, eyes rolling dramatically next to you. 

“-Fuck off, I’m right, alright? And you all know it’s stupid too. Over 90% of New Years resolutions fail, because they’re fucking unrealistic and stupid to begin with! I mean, you pick the middle of winter, after all these holidays to choose to get your life together? Fuck that.” 

“You got him all riled up now, Rob.” You passed her a grin, shoulder bumping hers playfully as you went towards the coffee table for another drink. 

“Hey, what about you?” Robin turned, leaning over the couch. “What’s your resolution?” 

“Hm, I dunno.” Your lips twisted in thought, legs a little wobbly from the liquor, yet you still poured yourself more. “I think I’d like to stop buying so much stuff. Save my money for big purchases.” 

“That was mine too.” Nancy nodded. “Stop buying things just because they’re cute. I have just piles of useless junk in my house because I thought it was cute. Now it just sits there.” 

“Exactly.” You smiled. “I’m the same way with shoes. If I see a pair of shoes, I have to have them. It’s like all my senses leave me, and then I get home and I have an identical pair already there.” 

“See? That’s a good one.” Robin looked over at Eddie pointedly. “Not all resolutions are stupid, Munson, your girl has a great one.” 

“Yeah, can’t argue with that.” Eddie’s tongue ran down the side of his cheek, shrugging lightly, though his eyes stayed dark, rolling over your frame the same way he did when he was thinking of a punishment or a new something to try in the bedroom. You didn’t bring it up and neither did he. 

New Years Day, 1990

The New Year rang in quickly, filled with liquor soaked cheers and a rather sloppy kiss on Steve’s couch from Eddie. His ringed hands cupped around your cheeks, pulling you in, uncaring of the ones around you. It left you giggling, nose brushing his, chest spilling over with heat like a froth of champagne bubbles. 

The night was uneventful after that. You’d said your goodbyes to your friends with silly, well wishes for the New Year. Eddie got you in the van, hand on your thigh as he drove carefully through the backwoods towards the trailer, eyes peeled for any cops. You’d nodded off twice, a gentle shake to your thigh waking you with a frown, giving Eddie a sleepy, drunken growl of, “‘M awake.”   

The next morning, when you woke with a slight headache and an incredibly dry mouth, Eddie had two aspirins already beside your bed with a glass of water. Your makeup had been washed off, your party dress swapped for an old, worn t-shirt, and Eddie next to you, his arm lazily thrown over your waist. 

You thanked him by palming him through his boxers, straddling him and pressing warm, gentle kisses down his neck until he woke up, grinning with sleep lines still creased into his cheeks, eyes half lidded with sleep, but his hands on your waist, bunching up your t-shirt. You started your first day of the New Year in your favorite fashion- pressed to the mattress, nails digging and scratching down Eddie’s shoulders and spine while his hips snapped furiously into yours.  

“Hey,” Eddie muttered, chest still covered in a soft sheen of sweat, propped against the pillows piled on the head board. 

“Hey,” Your giggled floated back towards him, the sun shining through the slotted blinds, illuminating over your features. 

“I’ve been thinkin’ about what you said last night.” Eddie hummed. 

Your face fell, blinking blankly at him. Fuck, what had you said last night? The night was a little hazy, liquor soaked, and blurry.

“Nothin’ bad, baby.” Eddie could read you easily, too easily sometimes. “I meant about your resolution.” 

“Oh,” Your shoulders fell gently, relaxing at his words. “Yeah, what about it?” 

“I was just thinking,” Eddie groaned lightly, sitting up. “If you were serious about that, maybe, I dunno, maybe I could help you out with it.” 

“Help me?” You grinned, pulling the crew neck over your head. 

“Yeah, help you.” Eddie’s lips twitched in a grin, eyes trailing your ass as you bent over, shimmying your panties on. “Help you keep it.” 

“How would you do that, hm? Lock my bank card up? Take away my piggy bank?” You teased lightly, rummaging through your drawers for your pants. 

“Somethin’ like that.” Eddie hummed, head lolling to the side lazily. “I was thinkin’ more like, you break your resolution, I get to punish you how I like.” 

Your spine straightened at his words, that familiar icy rigidness flooding your system. “What?” A squeak of a response that left Eddie grinning. 

“Y’know, just as an incentive, or- well, maybe more as a deterrent to keep you from breaking your resolution.” Eddie’s hands twitched under the covers, excitement coursing through his system. “Make it a little fun, don’t you think?” 

“Doesn’t seem all that fun.” You muttered, brows creasing. “Sounds like you get to have all the fun, just waiting for me to mess up.” 

“No, no, hey- c’mon, baby.” Eddie sat up, shaking his head gently. “‘S not like that. I just- I thought it would be fun. Thought you might like that.” 

Your fingers tugged and pulled at the sweatpant strings in your hand. It did sound fun, exciting, at least, but you didn’t want him to know exactly how eager you were. 

“What do I get as a reward?” You countered, eyes narrowing gently, lips twisting and pursing. “I mean, if I break it, I get punished. But what if I don’t break it? What’s in it for me?” 

Eddie snorted lightly, chest rising sharply with a laugh. “Well, I mean, you don’t break your resolution for one.” He said pointedly. “But, fine, for every week you don’t break your resolution, you can decide what you want your reward to be.” 

“Hm, that’s a pretty good deal.” You hummed, lips twisted in exaggerated thought. 

“Yeah? You wanna do it?” Eddie’s eyes lit up, wide with excitement. 

“Before I agree,” You lifted your finger. “I want to clarify a few things.” 

“Go for it.” Eddie nodded. 

“This is only for silly purchases, like the shoes and the trinket things, ok? The impulse buys. If it’s a planned purchase, that doesn’t count.” You crossed your arms gently. 

“Ok, I’ll agree to that, but you have to tell me if it’s a planned purchase ahead of time, alright? Can’t just buy something and go, oh, it’s a planned purchase! That’s not fair.” Eddie mocked your voice, face scrunching in exaggeration. 

“One, I don’t sound like that.” You frowned, leaving Eddie snickering. “Two, fine. I’ll agree to that.” 

“Sound like a deal?” Eddie’s brow lifted. You nodded. “Gotta shake my hand, baby, seal the deal.”��

You rolled your eyes at his dramatics, walking towards the bed, your hand slipping in his extended one, giving it a firm shake, before Eddie’s grasp held on tighter, pulling you towards him and onto the bed. He wrapped his arms tight around you, grinning at your squeals and shrills of giggles, pressing his nose into your cheek, peppering your face with kisses. 

January 16th, 1990

The first week had been a breeze. 

The first two days of the brand new year were spent mostly in bed with Eddie, cleaning around the trailer, revitalized for what opportunities the new year would bring. An exhausting return to work came quicker than both of you would have wanted, mixing with the sun setting at six o’clock, you’d blame your deterrent of spending on the frigid weather and your own exhaustion. 

However, that didn’t stop you from claiming your reward that Sunday. An hour and a half spent sitting on Eddie’s face until you nearly cried from pleasure, collapsing in a boneless pile next to him. Your favorite reward, and one he was more than happy to give you. 

The next week, it was more difficult. Especially when the boutiques around the downtown square, that you’d pass on your way to work, started to put up their winter clearance. When the pair of boots you’d been eyeing forever were finally marked half off. And they were so cute. You told yourself you’d just go by and look when you got off, just a peek. 

Luckily, your size was sold by the time you got there after your shift. Divine intervention, maybe. The universe telling you to stick to your resolution, that you don't need more shoes. 

Your Sunday reward wasn’t as sweet as it was the time before. 

The itch began after that, growing and gnawing at you. The shop windows you used to adore looking in now taunted you, reminded you of what you couldn’t have with every handbag, sweater, scarf, shoe, anything. 

“Hey, you wanna go to the mall when I get off?” Eddie hummed, pulling you away from your magazine. 

You thought flipping through a Vogue might settle some of your desire to buy something, seeing the obnoxiously outrageous prices- so far, it was only making it worse. All you could think about was how Shonda’s Shoes had an identical looking pair of knock off Jimmy Choos that were going to be the rage this spring. 

“Yes,” Your eyes lit up, snapping the glossy pages shut. 

Eddie’s brows lifted playfully, disappearing under his curly bangs. “Wow, that’s pretty eager. You don’t even know what it’s for. What if it’s something terrible?” 

“At the mall?” You snorted lightly. “What’s terrible at the mall?” 

Eddie shrugged lightly, slurping down the last of his coffee, putting the mug in the sink. “I dunno, I’m sure there’s somethin’ shitty in there, but I need to go to the music store. Get a couple more guitar picks. I keep losin’ them.” 

“You keep throwing them after your shows.” You gave him a pointed look. It was true, the more popular Eddie’s shows had become at the small town dive bars, the more daring and eager he got on stage, really putting on a performance, and always tossing his guitar picks towards the drunken, middle aged women who danced by the stage his entire set. 

“Aw, don’t be jealous, baby.” Eddie cooed mockingly, arms wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you back into his chest. “I’ll throw one to you next time.” His lips buzzed against your cheek, stubble tickling your skin as you squealed with giggles. 

Four o’clock couldn’t come quick enough. Eddie had only worked a half shift, much to your pleasure. 

“You’re already ready?” Eddie grinned, dropping his keys on the entryway table when he walked in. 

“Yeah, you said four.” You twisted your watch band around, looking at the face. “It’s four-fifteen.” 

“I know, baby, I’m just messin’ with ya.” Eddie’s brows furrowed, quipped with questioning, eyes flickering back over to yours. “‘M just gonna shower real quick. Change my clothes and we can go.” 

Your shoulders tightened, annoyance rolling over your frame that you tried to contain. “Alright.” You muttered, trudging behind Eddie towards the living room, plopping on the couch while he started down the hallway. 

A ringed hand caught on the doorframe, Eddie leaning back to look at you fully. Your lips pressed out in a pout, arms crossed over your sweater, staring boredly at the television that wasn’t turned on. 

“Hey,” Your head snapped, turning towards Eddie. “You alright?” He frowned, head tilting the side gently. 

“I’m good.” You replied, too monotone for Eddie to get a real read, though it felt off. You felt off.

Did he forget something? Say something? It wasn’t an anniversary, and it was just a Tuesday- not typical for a date night. Why were you being weird? 

Eddie decided against asking you that, when he emerged from the shower with clean, non-work clothes on, ready to go. Your mood had changed, entirely, bright eyed and bubbly from the moment he grabbed his keys. 

It was such a one-eighty that it left Eddie’s head spinning a little. Maybe he’d looked too much into it, maybe he was off. It had to be him, strolling through the mall with you, hand in hand, while you chatted aimlessly about your day, and meaningless gossip you’d heard from your friends. 

“Oh, look,” You gawked, hand tugging Eddie’s, pulling him off his path and jolting him to where you’d stopped. “Bakers are having a sale.” 

“Baby,” Eddie laughed lightly, lips curling gently. “C’mon.” 

“What?” You frowned, looking over at him. 

Eddie blinked, a scoff of a laugh leaving his lips. “Sweetheart, c’mon,” His hand tugged at yours, stepping away. “You know our agreement.” 

“What agreement?” You snapped much louder than he would have liked, pulling the attention of a couple passing by when you yanked your hand out of his grasp. “I can’t go to the store I want to go to?” 

“Stop it,” Eddie hissed, cheeks burning at your sudden change of mood. “You know what I’m talkin’ about, alright? It’s your resolution, and you know our deal.” His voice dropped, crowding in close to you. 

“So I-I can’t even look?” Your lips were beginning to tighten, to fall in a straight line that Eddie knew far too well. 

“If you want to look and torture yourself, fine,” Eddie huffed. “But I know you’re going to want to buy something.” 

“No, I’m not.” You grumbled, stubbornly, glaring at him. “I just want to look.” 

“Fine,” Eddie shrugged, his shoulders loosening but his jaw still clenched tight. “Let’s go look. Just look.” 

“I know, Ed,” You snapped, shrugging the hand he placed on your shoulder off with a huff. “You don’t have to be such an ass about it.” 

Eddie didn’t respond, tongue rolling down the side of his cheek instead. You looked back, eyes rounded gently in question, the same look you always gave him when you were testing his limits, pushing him to see if you’d accidentally pushed too far this time. 

After the third look back, Eddie relented, his hand finding the small of your back, hesitantly at first, closing in the space. “Hey, look at me for a second,” Eddie muttered, his hand sliding over your cheek, your eyes rolling up to meet his gaze. 

“I’m not trying to be an ass. I’m just tryna help you out.” 

“I know,” You muttered, your own shoulders flailing in defeat. “I just- I just wanted to look.” 

“Alright,” Eddie nodded, thumb swiping over your cheek bone gently. “Look as much as you want. Just- Let’s not fight. I don’t wanna fight with you tonight. I’ve been looking forward to this all day.” 

“Me too.” You admitted, though you felt you both had slightly different reasonings for the excitement. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s alright. I’m sorry, too. I wasn’t trying to be a controlling dick.” 

“I know.” You hummed, chin ducking forward, stealing a quick kiss that had Eddie’s cheeks pinkening. 

Your hand found his again, squeezing it gently. “Let me just look one more place, and we can go. I just want to see if they got in anything new.” 

Eddie followed you wordlessly, contently letting you drag him down the next aisle. He didn’t say anything, no protests when you picked up the newest arrival, a red leather, pointed toe heel that was sure to be the next big thing, or so the sales associate told you. 

He didn’t say a word even when you tried it on, modeling it in the mirror for yourself, lip tucking between your teeth, twisting your foot around to look at it through every angle. Even when the sales associate was schmoozing you, telling you how they were made just for you, and Eddie could see you swaying. 

He sat wordlessly, watching you through the mirror. 

Eddie didn’t say a word, not even when you gave him your best, sweetest, pleading eyes. 

When the two of you left the store, empty handed, it was your turn to sit wordlessly, a little sulky and petulantly while you followed Eddie to the music store. 

January 19th, 1990

“So you’ll meet me there?” Eddie’s voice rang through the other end of the line, the phone cradled to your ear. 

“Yes, baby,” You hummed sweetly. “I just gotta change when I get off, and Robin’s gonna pick me up. I’ll be there before you go on. Promise.” 

“Alright, sorry, I just- I’m excited.” Eddie admitted over the phone, and you could practically see his knee bouncing. “We’re playing Friday and Saturday night? It’s fuckin’ amazing.” 

“Yeah, it is.” You giggled gently. “I’m proud of you, Ed, you’ve worked hard for it.”

“Thanks.” Eddie muttered, nearly boyishly. “I can’t wait to see you.” 

“I can’t wait to see you either.” You whispered, hand cupping the receiver close to you. “I have to go, but I’ll see you tonight.” 

“See you tonight, sweetheart. Love you.” 

“Love you, Ed.” You muttered, a familiar tingly rush of heat swelling in your chest, phone clicking on the connection point, your nails drumming over the hard shell of the phone in thought. 

The guilt settled in your stomach, heavier than it was this morning when you’d left. Kissing Eddie goodbye, muttering something about having to be at work an hour early, the lie smoothly falling from your lips and he was none the wiser. 

Since Tuesday, you’d developed something worse than buyer’s remorse- not buying remorse, maybe? Regret? Complete and utter irritation and infatuation with the shoes that you couldn’t buy. And why couldn’t you buy them? Because of some stupid resolution? Eddie was right, New Year's resolutions were stupid. 

You’d thought about it, at least, waited and really thought about it. You had even looked through your closet and you didn’t have any like those shoes- sure, you had leather, and red shoes, but not leather, red heels. These were different, you didn’t buy them on an impulse, so in a way, you’d followed through a little on your resolution. Right? 

That’s what you told yourself anyways, swiping your card with an adrenaline rush far too heavy for just buying shoes. Your eyes lighting with excitement, clutching the bag with a white knuckled grip and giving the cashier a wild and wide smile. 

You’d gotten what you wanted, held it tight on the walk back to work, but the feeling in your stomach didn’t settle. There was no instant satisfaction, no momentary happiness like what usually came with your small meaningless purchases. This time, you still felt… unsettled. Even more guilty when you slipped them on later that night, the finishing touch to your planned outfit. 

“Hey,” Robin greeted, waving through the open window of the passenger’s seat in her date’s car. “Look who’s actually on time.”

You rolled your eyes, pulling at the door handle. “You and Ed act like I’m always late.” You snorted, sliding into the leather seats. 

“You are always late.” Robin laughed. 

“Now you really sound like Ed.” You muttered, setting your small clutch beside you while Robin laughed. 

The Hideout was already beginning to crowd when you arrived, filling with familiar and new faces, all gathered around the bar and tables, drinks in hand, waiting for the band to start up. You were shocked to see your table at the front was still available, heart swelling when you saw a small sign placed there that read, ‘Reserved for the Band’ in Eddie’s handwriting. 

“Here you go,” Robin passed you a plastic cup, sliding into the high top chair next to you. “Vodka cran for the number one groupie.” 

You scoffed, muttering a thank you, lips wrapping around the small black straw. “I love your shoes.” Samantha, Robin’s date, smiled, passing by you to sit by Robin. 

Your heart skipped, dropping in slight fear, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace. “Thank you.” You nodded. 

Robin looked under the table, examining your shoes for herself. “Those are cute. Are they new?” 

“No,” You lied easily, a little too rigid for your own liking, but they seemed to buy it. “I got them last summer.” You waved lightly. 

“They’re so cute.” Samantha smiled. “They look just like some I saw at Baker’s, and I almost got them but they didn’t have my size-” 

“-Hey,” You jumped at the ringed hand on your shoulder, a flash of curls in your peripheral before Eddie was in front of you. 

“Hey.” You swallowed, grinning up at him. “What are you doing-” 

“- We’re about to go on, but I saw you and just wanted to say hi.” Eddie admitted, a little boyishness in his tone, in his smile, that made you swoon. 

“Hi,” You giggled, leaning towards him. “Good luck.” 

“Thanks, baby.” Eddie’s lips found yours, capturing you in a kiss, his fingertips pressed lightly under your jaw. 

“Ed!” 

Gareth’s annoyed bark pulled both of you apart, Eddie rolling his eyes. “I gotta go. I’ll see you after the show.” His eyes rolled over your frame as you stilled, bracing yourself for that furious look of shock in his eyes when he looked at your feet. It never came. 

“You look good, baby.” Eddie winked playfully, nodding at Robin and her date before he ran back onto the small wooden stage. 

You could feel your shoulders relax, ducking your feet back under the bar table with satisfaction. He hadn’t noticed, you knew he wouldn’t, but you couldn’t believe he actually didn’t. You felt smug, sipping on your drink, downing the liquor with the guilt finally being replaced with satisfaction. 

***

“You sounded sooo good.” Arms wrapped around Eddie’s neck, the two of you swayed next to the bar chairs while Eddie waited for his beer. 

“Thank you, baby.” Eddie laughed through a dimpled grin, his hand on your waist, holding you against him in case you fell- again. 

“Everyone loved it.” You hummed, running a manicured finger down the side of his face, over his damp hair line. “They fucking loved you.” 

“Yeah?” Eddie grinned, brows lifting in humor. He liked when you’d get drunk and silly like this, overly and smothering with affection. “How’d you like it though, hm? I only care about what you think. You’re the most important one, you know that.” 

Your giggly smile made his heart swell, leaning back to look at him, lips twisting dramatically in thought. “Hmm, what did I think?” You tapped a finger playfully to your chin. 

“I think-” 

“-Watch out.” Eddie grabbed at your wrist, trying to still you as you took a wobbly, wide step backwards into the path of the bus boy, stumbling into them, the empty drink he was trying to return falling from between his stacked fingers and right onto your shoes. 

“Shit!” 

“Oh no.” You frowned gently, chin dropping to your chest, looking at the melted ice and liquor that darkened the leather of your shoes. 

 “Sorry, man, she didn’t see you. I got it.” Eddie apologized quickly, picking the plastic cup up, shooting the teenager a look of apology. “I’ll clean it up. Sorry.” 

Eddie snatched the stack of napkins off the bar, dropping to mop up the small puddle by your feet. “‘M sorry. I didn’t even see him, Ed.” You mumbled, voice starting to shake with emotions, a warning of tears, drunk and emotional. 

“It’s alright. Don’t cry, sweetheart. Shit gets dropped here all the time.” Eddie’s hand rubbed over your calf gently, squeezing it to soothe you. “Did it get in your shoe? Or just the outside?” 

“No, they’re gonna be ruined.” Your slurred whine made him cringe, ducking back just in time to miss your swinging foot raise up, snatching the shoe off. 

“Baby,” Eddie hissed, pulling at your dress to keep it down. “Hey, c’mon, don’t cry. Just let me close out-” 

“-No, they’re ruined.” You sniffled, eyes shining with tears, scrubbing and dabbing with the cheap paper napkins at the soaked leather. “I just bought these and they’re already stained, and it's not gonna come out.” 

Eddie stilled, eyes flickering from you to the shoe in your hand, narrowing when he realized what exactly was in your hand. It was the same heels from earlier this week, red and leather and with a pointed toe, and now in your possession. He knew he recognized them, knew something about them looked familiar when he saw you in them- when he saw how good your legs looked in them. 

“Ed-Eddie,” You sniffled wetly around a hiccup, lip jutted in a far pout, looking up at him with glazed eyes. 

“C’mon,” Eddie nodded, grabbing your coat off the back of the bar stool. “I’ll fix them back at home.” His heavy arms were around your frame, guiding you carefully through the broken pavement back to the van while you babbled and sniffled, teary eyed and turned into his chest. 

Back at the trailer, he’d managed to get you into the bed before you’d collapsed, drunk and exhausted. The routine was nearly identical to the one just a few days before on New Years Eve; taking off your makeup, swapping out your little party dress for one of his tee shirts, two Advils and a large glass of water on the bedside table. 

Only this time, he didn’t toss your shoes in the closet, onto the piles under your clothes with the others. No, this time, he sat them right on the dining room table. He had managed to find the receipt in the trash, skillfully placed under a wad of paper towels that you’d tried to use to mask it. Eddie placed it next to the shoes, leaving them both for you to find in the morning. 

January 20th, 1990

“Ed,” Your groggy voice made its way into the kitchen before you did, hoarse from the liquor and singing from the night before. “Did you make any coffee? Please tell me you made some.” 

“It’s in the kitchen, baby.” Eddie replied smoothly, eyes still on the screen of the TV. “I kept the pot on for you. Should still be warm.” 

Your feet shuffled over the carpet, knuckling at your eyes. The muffled screech of guitars left you wincing, even at the low volume Eddie had the TV on while he watched his Saturday morning MTV show.

“Did you eat, Ed?” Your heart swelled, seeing the mug he’d left out for you next to the pot- your favorite mug. 

“Hm?” Eddie grunted back. 

“Did you eat?” Your head strained with an ache at the rise in your tone, thumb pressing between your brows to alleviate the pressure. “Or do you want me to make you something? Or we could-” 

Words strangled in your throat, you nearly dropped the mug onto the tiled floor of the kitchen when you turned. There on the kitchen table, your new shoes next to a neatly laid out receipt. 

“Could what?” Eddie said lightly, standing from the couch and turning to see you, wide eyed when your gaze met his. 

“Oh, yeah, forgot about those.” Eddie reached for the remote, muting the volume. “You know, when you told me they were new shoes, I thought maybe you were just a little confused and drunk.” 

His footsteps seemed heavier, louder and more menacing, sending a shockwave of adrenaline and ache right to your core the closer he got. “Then when I got you home, I realized those were the shoes from the mall.” Eddie stopped in front of you, hands resting on the back of the kitchen chair, looking down at you from the slope of his nose. 

“I thought there was no way, no possible way, you went back and bought those, but then, I looked in the trash and you know what I found?” Eddie tilted his head to the side, mockingly. You could only blink, tongue too thick in your own mouth to reply. 

Eddie’s pointer and middle finger fell onto the receipt, pushing it towards you, sliding it across the wood table. “Read the date on there for me, baby.” 

“Ed-”

“-Read it for me.” Eddie’s voice boomed, oozing with authority that had you pulsing between the legs, heart skipping at the same beat. 

Eyes cutting down, your teeth pulled at your bottom lip, eyeing the date printed boldly under the store’s name. “January nineteenth.” It was mumbled, nearly inaudible, and you refused to meet his gaze. You couldn’t, but you knew how he was looking at you. Eyes narrowed with a hard glare that felt nearly challenging. 

“January nineteenth,” Eddie repeated slowly. “Yesterday. You- hey, look at me- You went back to the store and got them?” 

The intensity of his gaze left you feeling vulnerable, like you were see through, squirming and shifting from foot to foot. “I-I just- I just wanted them.” 

“You wanted them?” Eddie lifted a brow. “Baby, you agreed to the resolution thing-” 

“-I know I did, Ed.” You snapped with a huff that teetered on bratty, throwing in an eye roll that had Eddie’s grip tightening on the back of the chair. 

“But, I didn’t, I didn’t buy them right then! I went home and made sure I didn’t have any like them, and I didn’t, so that’s not really breaking it entirely.” You countered, lip jutted lightly in a pout, eyes rounding up at him sweetly- hopefully sweet enough that you’d melt his heart, get him to agree with you. 

“We had an agreement,” Eddie’s fingers tapped on the wood of the chair. “If you wanted them, you could’ve told me, baby. Not snuck around and bought them. You knew what you were doing.” 

Your shoulders fell with a sharp sigh of defeat. “It’s stupid.” You muttered. “You were right. Resolutions are so pointless.”

“I know,” Eddie snorted with a laugh. “But we still had a deal, baby, and you broke your deal.” 

“Ed, come on-” 

“-No, no, no, you were more than happy to accept your rewards. Now you gotta face the music, baby. Gotta take your punishment.” Eddie shrugged lightly, giving you a big sigh for show, like there was nothing he could do about it. It made you furious, even more so when you could feel your tummy erupting in thrilling butterflied. 

The wood chair screeched across the linoleum floors when Eddie tugged it back, wide enough for him to slip in it, legs spread wide. “Come on over,” His hand patted his right thigh. “I won’t go too hard on you, I promise.” 

Your cheeks burned, hot with embarrassed heat- embarrassed at the punishment or the fact that you were so excited to be punished, you weren’t sure. Hesitantly, you folded over his thigh, hands bracing yourself on his thigh, grabbing at the wooden leg of the chair while Eddie guided you over his knee. 

Eddie’s hand smoothed over your ass, bunching the cotton of your panties between his fingers, grinning when you whined, tensing at the anticipation of the first spank. “Relax, baby,” Eddie hummed, squeezing your left cheek, teasing. “You knew this was coming.” 

“Stooop,” A nasally whine left your throat before you could stop yourself, already beginning to squirm. “Don’t be mean to me.” 

“Mean?” Eddie scoffed playfully, brows lifting. “I’m not being mean. Not yet, anyways.” 

You huffed at his words, the air barely leaving your lips before it was sucked back in, a shocked gasp when Eddie’s hand fell without warning, hard against your left ass cheek. 

“I could have been mean last night,” Eddie’s tone cut, his hand slamming down in sharp, thundering smacks that left you gasping, clawing at the wood of the chair. “Could have let your shoes get ruined.” 

Your face twisted in distortion, the night before hazy. You barely remembered seeing Eddie after his set, the memory of the spilled drink flooding to you in liquor soaked waves. It was difficult to really recall with the assault Eddie’s hand was dishing out on your ass, your core aching with need, throbbing as you tried to wiggle your way to his knee. 

“I cleaned your shoes off,” Three hard smacks that had you raising, pushing off the chair to lift off, Eddie’s hand shoving you back into place, holding you there by the small of your back. 

“I made sure they didn’t stain, even after I found out you’d gone behind my back and bought them.” 

“‘M sorry! Eddie, I-I’m sorry!” A panting cry tore from your chest, nose and throat burning with tears, wiggling to try and escape his assaults that rained down unrelenting. You had managed to wiggle your way onto his kneecap, aching clit pressed down and hips rolling to alleviate the needy throb. You hoped he wouldn’t notice. Or maybe that he would. Maybe then he’d get bored of punishing you and might fuck you instead. 

“If I was really mean,” Eddie gritted, delivering a rather hard smack to the center of your bottom, mouth watering and cock straining with need, tented in his boxers. He knew you had to feel it, the same way he could feel your wetness on his bare thigh, seeping through your panties more and more with every roll of your hips. 

“I’d make you return the shoes.” Eddie’s hand fell hard again to the same space, the pain and vibrations of his hit leaving you dizzy, mind numbing with pleasure, mouth lolling open and choking on cries- of pleasure or pain, you weren’t quite sure. 

“Make you really learn your lesson then, hm?” Eddie growled, his voice gravelly with need, sending shivers of excitement trickling up your spine. 

“Please,” You panted between a moan. “I’ve learned my lesson. I learned it. I’ll be good. I promise, Ed, I swear.” 

Wet sniffles and clenched moans filled the kitchen, your hips still writing, desperate to dull the ache between your legs. Eddie’s finger traced over your puffy, pantie clothed lips, featherlight and teasing down your slit, pressing over the patch of wetness he felt at the front. 

“Eddie, please,” Your whine came, nasally and pathetic. 

“You ready to be good?” Eddie muttered, pad of his index finger pressing into your clit so you squealed. “Ready to be good for me? Do what I say?” 

“Yes,” You nodded, blood rushing to your head, still tipped over his knee. “I’ll be good. I’m gonna be good.” 

“Good.” Eddie clipped, pulling you up. You sat on his lap, just for a moment, blood rushing, head spinning from the mix of that sensation and your overwhelming desire. You barely had a moment to steady yourself before you were being stood up, shoved back to your knees on the kitchen floor.

“You wanna show me you’re sorry?” Eddie looked down at you from the chair, hips lifting to shove his boxers down, revealing his angry cock, leaking at the tip. You swallowed at the sight, thighs pressing together and squirming. 

“Show me how sorry you are.” Eddie stroked himself, nodding at you. 

Tongue running over your lips, your spine straightened, shuffling forward to take his length in your hand. Tongue flattening, your eyes were on Eddie’s, licking a long, wet stripe up the underside of his cock, tongue swirling around the head as you sucked it gently. 

Eddie’s head fell back, hands finding your head, pushing you gently onto his length. It was something he normally didn’t do, he knew you didn’t like it, but when you were being punished, he’d do it. Just to hear you gag, toes curling and hips clenching to keep from bucking at the vibrations from the back of your throat. 

“Thaaaat’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.” Eddie groaned, eyes half lidded with ecstasy, watching your head bob up and down, eyes glistening with tears with every deep thrusting gag he’d give. 

“Fuck, just- hold on.” Eddie gritted, abs clenching, pleasure beginning to coil tight, threatening to snap in the pit of his tummy. His hand found the back of your head, tugging at your hair, pulling you off his length. 

“What?” You frowned, the back of your hand wiping at your mouth. “It didn’t- Was it not good?” 

“No, fuck no.” Eddie shook his head. “Felt great, baby, always does. You know you’re so good at that.” He grinned, leaving you beaming under his praise. 

“So good I was about to cum. Don’t wanna do that.” Eddie’s hand cradled around your cheek, pinching the skin lightly. “Wanna cum in you. Stand up f’me.” 

You scrambled to your feet, legs prickly nearly asleep from being on your knees, wobbly with excitement. You ached between your legs, painful with need, bending over the kitchen table, pushing the shoes out of the way. 

Eddie paused, tongue running over his bottom lip. “Wait,” You turned, blinking up at him. “Gimme those.” He nodded towards the shoes. 

You frowned, hesitating when you grabbed them, handing them over to Eddie. His hand caught your wrist, tugging you upwards to stand. “Put them on.” 

“What?” You frowned, looking at the shoes- he really had cleaned them, even the bottoms looked brand new, the sweetheart. Your heart swelled. 

“Put them on,” Eddie nodded, standing, cock slapping against his tummy. His eyes were dark, pulling at your t shirt; his shirt. 

“I want you to wear those, just those.” Eddie growled, stroking his length, eyeing you hungrily while you pulled your shirt off, baring yourself to him. “Want you just in those shoes while I fuck you, you hear me?” 

Your head bobbed, nodding dumbly at his words, slipping the heels on with shaky hands. Eddie’s gaze on you the entire time, hungrily eyeing over your frame as you stood there, naked in your new shoes. 

“Mm, maybe you were onto somethin’, baby.” Eddie hummed, tongue rolling down the side of his cheek. “Maybe you did need ‘em. You look fuckin’ amazing in them.” 

Your chin ducked to your chest, shy under his praise, rushes of electric excitement trilling through your body. “Thank you,” You whispered, gaze still on the floor, looking at the red leather heels. 

“Come here,” Eddie motioned you over, his hands finding your hips, pulling you in for a sloppy, hot kiss that left you spinning. 

“Turn around,” Eddie growled, hands still anchored onto your hips, fingertips bruising the skin there. “Lean forward.” 

Your hands found the edge of the counter, nails digging into the tile, crying out in pleasure when Eddie’s fingers slipped between your legs, circling around your clit. 

He fucked you hard, barbarically against the counter. Hips snapping with a fury, deep and fast, sloppily circling your clit. He seemed to go faster, deeper, with every squeak of your heels sliding on the floors, snapping down to find your footing that was slipping away on shaky legs. 

Your cheek pressed to the counter, you felt him fill you, pulling out with his heaving chest laid over your back, both of you starry eyed and spacy with bliss. 

“I like the shoes.” Eddie rasped between heaving breaths. “Think you should wear ‘em again tonight.” 

Your breathy giggles were music to his ears, his own shoulders dropping with relief at the sound. The familiar guilt and uncertainty that always came after you played slowly slipping away, his hands pulling at your sweat soaked skin, pulling you closer to him, lips on your shoulder. 

“I will,” You sighed, cheek pressed to the cool tile of the counter. There was a pause, the two of you skin to skin, feeling each other in the silence of the kitchen. 

“I think I’m ready to call the resolution thing.” You admitted, eyes rounding when you turned to look at Eddie. “I don’t want to do it anymore. It was fun but… I don’t want to do it anymore.” 

Eddie grinned sweetly down at you. “Yeah? Don’t blame you, baby. Told you resolutions are dumb.” He teased gently, hand smoothing down your hip gently. “I did like given’ you your reward every week, though. Can’t lie. That part was pretty great.” 

“Yeah?” Your eyes lit up, turning in his arms to face him. “We can still do that part. I thought that was pretty fun too.” 

“Ooh, you did, huh?” Eddie cooed sillily, arms wrapping around your frame, pulling you into him with a shrill of giggles. 

“I tell you what, you keep those heels on, and you can sit on my face right now, for as long as you want. How’s that sound?” Eddie tilted his head to the side playfully. 

You found yourself in the bedroom not ten minutes later, the stem of the heels digging into your ass as you rocked, hands braced on the headboard, legs parts on either side of Eddie’s head as he devoured into you. 

The heels were his favorite, Eddie decided. A failed resolution, sure, but one of the best purchases you’d ever made in his eyes.