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#like i got most of the way through the other thing i should have been working on instead of this. cough cough
sarasade · 2 days
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It's been pretty interesting to follow the
"Why Didn't Viren Get Redeemed vs Viren Got What Was Coming To Him"
discussion after The Dragon Prince's 6th season got released.
Hot Take
I think Viren got redeemed.
Because to me Viren humbling himself and acknowledging the hurt he has caused was redeeming. His conversation with Soren was the main event. His rather heroic death was only the cherry on top of the character development cake that has been baking since s4.
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I think Viren dying wasn't as significant as what he did before that and how he tried to provide Soren with some kind of comfort and closure, you know, as a parent should, before going. Viren's redemption wasn't just him dying for Katolis but acknowledging his wrongdoings and trying to salvage what he could.
That was pretty redeeming for me at least. Viren did the right thing even when he knew there wouldn't be any reward for it. Even if he couldn't stop Aaravos from destroying Katolis or manipulating Claudia even after his death. Like, man, I kinda feel for the guy.
I think it has always pretty easy to feel sympathy for Viren. Viren wants to matter and wants to be important. However, his grandiosity, as psychologists would call it, keeps him from creating genuine connections with others. His friends, wife and children are only there to prop up his ego or get rejected if they fail to live up to his expectations. It's also pretty damn tragic that Viren opens up about his deep insecurities to Aaravos of all people. Someone who was the most likely person in the world to exploit these insecurities for his own gain.
Viren had to taste his own medicide but I don't think TDP says that's an objectively good thing per se or that we should enjoy this sort of revenge fantasy uncritically. Viren is still portrayed rather sympathetically and of course there is the part about his actions affecting others and the world in unpredictable ways. It's still a tragedy because Viren's actions and personal problems have caused so much collateral damage. The Why behind Aaravos exploiting Viren and Claudia is part of that tragedy, too. There are no winners here. In a way Viren is a victim of his own narcissistic tendencies, too.
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This isn't just about the final episodes of Viren's arc. To me it's essential to ask What was Viren's biggest sin he should be redeemed or punished for? Depending on your answer you may have a relatively different reading of s6 story development compared to mine.
To me it's not a specific action he took but his whole worldview. Viren is a fictional character (duh!) so his story isn't exactly literal but metaphorical, a representation of certain values and morals real people and society holds. In s3 TDP draws a pretty straightforward, though brief, comparison between Viren and reactionary right-wing ideologues. It's not exactly subtle.
It's just one way TDP goes to show how toxic and abusive Viren's core values are. that gets reflected both in Viren's personal life aka how he treated Lissa, Soren and even Harrow and Claudia (last two more indirectly). Since he also had a ton of political power as a high mage and briefly as a king we see what he did with that power. It's a pretty clear take on people who dehumanise others, fetishise power and see all living things as something to exploit. TDP explores that both philosophically and psychologically through Viren. Dark magic encapsulates this philosophy well since using magical creatures like tools or objects is essential for it to work.
Also also- I don't really get why people see redemption or atonement as something black and white. It's not bad or anything but Redeeming Yourself For Your Sins is a very Christian concept and Christianity isn't the only way to understand villain story arcs. Like I wish there could be more discussion about WHY redemption is the main analytical framework we impose on villains when villainous characters have a ton of variety anyway.
I don't really have anything to complain about Viren's death itself and I'm not surprised that he ended up dying (for real this time). Aaravos seemed like someone who'd turn against Viren the moment he stopped being useful to him so Viren's life has been hanging by a thread since s4. Viren was the best part of TDP and every scene he's been in had been a delight, well expect the s5 dream sequence because it was too long-winded and obvious, anyway, I'm sorry to see him go and I look forward writing AU fix-it fics where he and Aaravos are married and run a hot brown morning potion shop with all their four totally not dead children. RIP Viren. You lived like a messy bitch and died like a messy bitch. Iconic.
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regretsofaghost · 2 days
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Survival May Be the Hardest Part
part 1- I Couldn't Give What It Cost Me
ao3 link- here
Danny couldn’t focus.
He needed to focus, to save, to keep something, with Batman. From Batman?
                Danny kept looking in his peripherals, images of white suited men, teal and bright orange HAZMAT suits, people that left before he could get a clear look at them.
                He needed to know for sure.
                He couldn’t.
                Phantom stepped away from Batman, unused to the feeling of wind on his bare face as he flew up. He hoped the other man was okay, but he had a feeling that he wasn’t. Whatever he saw when Phantom had removed his mask had shaken the older hero.
                Phantom could power through most things, he had to.
                Phantom was the only thing standing between ghosts and the living.
                The only thing that wanted both sides to be safe.
                Was Scarecrow ready for a real ghost?
                A real manifestation of fear, of the dead? Something so otherworldly that you could just barely comprehend it?
                Phantom didn’t really understand what he did. All he knew for sure was that he didn’t want anyone hurt, including Scarecrow.
                He couldn’t give into his urges like he had with Freakshow.
                Danny liked the stars; he liked them a lot.
                It’s one of the reasons he loved Amity Park so much, the night sky was so clear that he could see distant stars and planets, some nights the Milky Way looked close enough to touch.
                It was one of the only things he could think of while under Freakshow’s influence, his stars. Danny couldn’t remember much other than his stars, how odd it was that they were tinted ever so slightly red, his eyes drifting to the sky at every opportunity.
                Sam liked to say it was that reason she knew she wouldn’t die from her fall off the tightrope. If Danny could remember his stars, if he could seek them out and lose himself to them like he normally would, he would remember Sam and Tucker.
                Bruce had been keeping an eye on the new meta in Gotham, a mysterious figure who wore a black HAZMAT suit, complete with a gas mask which obscured their face. Of course, Batman had wanted to meet this figure, but the Family was having trouble setting up a meeting.
                Their abilities made tracking them near impossible, new powers seemingly appearing every week. Or perhaps the meta refrained from using their full arsenal, it was impossible to tell. Intangibility made them impossible to contain, flight made them harder to catch, invisibility made the Family lose track of them regularly. That was ignoring how the meta messed with their technology, much of it shorting out when they got close enough to detect them.
                It was like they were dealing with a real ghost.
                Running the meta’s appearance through reverse image searches lead the Family to social media, where Barbara was able to get past a fire wall surrounding a small town. Phantom was their, or rather his, name. He was a hero, or a vigilante, or a villain, depending on who you asked. He appeared to exhibit villainous behaviour at points, however with how rare it was, mind control in those instances was not ruled out.
                Amity Park had a ghost problem, and it seemed that they received a ghost savior in the process.
                Bruce didn’t know what to think of that.
                Danny remembered stars.
                He kept looking up, hoping to see the tiny specks in the distance, the moon should be full.
                The smog was too thick to see through.
                He wanted to see his stars.
                It was dark. There was a thunderstorm happening, flashed of bright light followed by booms of thunder every few minutes. Just enough time for Danny to relax, never enough to feel safe.
                He forgot about those fears. Those childish fears of the dark, the ingrained fear of electricity.
                Maybe that’s why the lightning looked more green than white, like it should.
                He had to protect them. He had to find Scarecrow.
                Target the ghost, the perpetrator, help deal with the fallout afterward.
                Danny’s face was wet, he didn’t realize rain could touch a ghost.
                Scrodinger’s cat, neither dead nor alive till you opened the box, both dead and alive till you lifted the lid.
                Danny didn’t want to open the box.
                Phantom drifted upward, eyes scanning for Scarecrow, recognizing the dissociation for what it was.
                If he didn’t register the white, teal, and orange, he could do it.
                Bingo.
                Scarecrow was in front of him, taunting? The rain was too loud, the lightning too distracting. Phantom couldn’t tell, couldn’t see his mouth, the mask over the other’s face.
                Phantom lifted a gloved hand, sending a weaker ghost ray towards the man. Scarecrow was still sent back into the building behind him.
                Maybe he wasn’t as present as he thought.
                Fear gas was still thick in the air, Phantom could still see the Fentons in the corners of his vision, gloves bloody and suits damaged, he didn’t hurt them. Did he? He wouldn’t, he couldn’t.
                Phantom stood over Scarecrow, tilting his head at the odd energy surrounding the man. He hadn’t seen ghosts react like that before, the way they seemed desperate to get away, only to be pulled back in, like the man was a drain they couldn’t escape.
                Danny thought of a mixture of red and green going down the drain.
                The Bats were busy, Batman was closer than he usually got.
                Batman still had Phantom’s mask on.
                Batman could still see Danny’s face.
                “Do you know fear?” Phantom found himself asking, looking down at the Scarecrow. His voice sounded so odd without the muffling of his mask, that was until he remembered that his voice was not coming strictly from his mouth. It was also coming out of the speakers in the area, a damaged store’s intercom, a police car’s siren, com links. It made his voice crackle, high and low frequencies cutting in and out.
                It nearly sounded like he was borrowing others’ voices.
                The Scarecrow struggled to answer, which was odd. Phantom didn’t want to know why he struggled.
                “I think you think you know fear, Scarecrow,” Phantom breathed out, the crackle worsening in the speaker closest to him, “you know it’s not simply what goes bump in the night.”
                Phantom walked closer, white, teal, orange, orange, white, teal, orange.
                There was a boom of thunder in the distance, a flash of green lightening illuminating Danny’s face.
                White, teal, red, red, orange, red, white, green, white, teal, orange.
                “Phobias are easy. The best way to scare someone is with rational fears. Something that can, and will, harm them.”
                White, teal, orange.
                “Are you afraid of ghosts, Doctor Crane?”
                Phantom kept looking up at the sky. Bruce wasn’t sure why.
                There was almost longing in his young face, jaw still soft with age despite the malnourished way his cheeks sunk in. His green eyes were hazy, never truly focusing, even as he searched for something he seemed to struggle to find. His white hair whipped around his face, shaggy in a way that suggested it was kept short but had grown out.
                Phantom was young, younger than estimates suggested. Why was a child wearing a HAZMAT suit? Why did he seem so proficient in engineering?
                Phantom asked Scarecrow if he was afraid of ghosts.
                What killed a child in a HAZMAT suit?
                What prompted Phantom into giving Bruce his mask?
                Phantom wasn’t reacting like one normally would under fear gas, but Bruce knew it wasn’t because he was immune.
                Maybe it was because he was a dad, but he knew when a child was scared, and Phantom was terrified.
                Danny remembered searching for the stars, before he was diving to save a Robin from falling.
                Freakshow never really learned, he was human, but he was the same as the ghosts he took over. Never really learning from his mistakes.
                Or maybe he thought he figured Phantom out.
                Danny could remember holding Freakshow over the ledge, his staff broken below them.
                He could remember the feeling of Freakshow’s suit jacket in his hands, the rubber of his gloves just barely slipping.
                “You got your sequel, I’m not letting you make it a trilogy.”
                His hand let go.
                Phantom let Lady Gotham take Freakshow, leaving before the Bats could arrive.
                Phantom was standing over Scarecrow.
                He was so small, how did they ever think he was older than 18.
                Scrodinger’s cat, dead and alive.
                Phantom had a civilian identity.
                “Oracle?”
                “B-zzzzzz-t’s? C-zzzz-me? -zzzzzz- get a-zzzzz-al.”
                No luck, it’ll have to wait.
                Batman was slow to approach.
                There was no need to scare the kid further, with what he’s seen so far, Phantom wouldn’t hurt him, but fear gas was powerful.
                “Phantom?”
                The ghost turned towards him, and Bruce had to breathe deeply as his body tensed, chills running down his spine, his palms went sweaty.
                All precursors to fear that Batman was used to ignoring.
                “We’ll lock him up. Let me take him.”
                Bright green eyes, hazy, hands loose at his sides. Phantom was terrified, but he didn’t act on it. Strange.
Phantom’s eyes darted back and forth, trying to catch something that wasn’t there. His breath was coming out in puffs of mist, despite the temperature, though Bruce couldn’t complain, the mist meant he could tell that the child was hyperventilating.
                Scrodinger’s cat, both dead and alive
                Bruce hoped his comment about fear wasn’t from experience. He knew it was.
                “Phantom, let me take Scarecrow,” Bruce put a bit more of a demand behind his words, taking a small step forward. He held his hands within view, making it clear he had nothing in them, and wasn’t reaching for anything.
                Phantom watched him so closely, he probably forgot his face was exposed. He let Batman get close though.
                The fear gas was slowly dissipating around them. Good, they had Scarecrow, the others had taken care of the gas, and now, Bruce was within ten feet of the mysterious meta who had managed to avoid the full force of Gotham’s vigilantes.
                Phantom watched as Batman cuffed the Scarecrow, the masked villain never letting his eyes leave the ghost.
                Phantom looked towards the sky again, seeing a glimpse of the night sky, a single star, before there was a shooting pain through his side.
                The ghost came crashing to the ground, the pain a terrifying familiar feeling, Danny struggled to keep his transformation up, even as his eyes darted around the crowd, white, white, white.
                Teal, orange.
                White.
                Phantom was gone.
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mmogurl · 2 days
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Daddy Issues Part 4: Comfort
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18+ | 3.2k | Homelander X Reader |  protective homelander, reader’s back story is a little dark, reader might be a bit of a nympho, mentions of suicide, rape, assault, alcoholism, emotional child abuse. This was supposed to be the last chapter, but the story has officially been extended by at least another chapter or maybe one more if I’m feeling froggy. Enjoy!
Part 1: Savior | Part 2: Baseline | Part 3: Spoiled | Part 4: Comfort
Tags: @screaming-potato
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As Homelander busies himself putting out the fire, you attempt to undress for bed, but since the tent is not high enough for you to stand in, you find the task much more complicated than it should be. It’s a strained process of getting on your back and awkwardly pulling your designer jeans off, especially as they get stuck around your calves and you flounder like a fish to get them fully past your ankles. You’ve literally never had to take your pants off like this and you consider it a downside to camping.
Other than the lack of height, the tent is rather spacious, pleasant even. You sit up, sliding your hoodie over your head and fold it briefly before tossing it to the corner. Looking down at your chest, you beam when you see the Journey logo on your t-shirt. You’ve never actually been to one of their shows, but you still really love the band. In fact, it’s one of the few good memories you have of your mother: listening to music together. It’s one thing she had good taste in at least.
In nothing but your shirt, bra, and underwear, you snuggle down into the bed Homelander has prepared that takes up most of the tent’s floor. There’s some kind of padding beneath you that is way more comfortable than it has a right to be considering you’re sleeping on the surface of dirt and grass. He’s lined it with an unraveled sleeping bag, large enough for two to lay on, with another placed on top to use as a blanket. It’s clear he has no intention of sleeping separately from you, even when in the close confines of this shelter.
It’s already quite dark by the time Homelander unzips the outside flap to the tent and comes inside. He drops a few bags of supplies to the side and turns on a solar powered lantern. You squint as your eyes adjust and he begins to disrobe, wondering briefly if he turned the light on just to torture you. He unfastens the bib of his supesuit, pulling it down to the side to reveal the zipper underneath. You can barely concentrate on the small talk he offers as he removes the jacket and places it in a neat pile besides his already folded cape.
“I think our first camping trip was a success, don’t you?”
“Mmhm,” you reply close-mouthed, already biting your lip as he takes off his belt, unbuttoning the top of his tight blue pants.
You can’t take it anymore and turn away from him, trying to calm yourself as you feel the blush rising in your cheeks, your heart pounding. Sure, he slept in those damn red briefs every night, but usually he came into the bedroom already wearing them. You never got to watch him strip though and you can’t help but be overwhelmed by the desire you’re feeling as a result.
It’s not like these thoughts are helpful, since you already tried to broach the topic of your relationship earlier and Homelander dodged you, opting instead to talk about his past. You’re grateful he opened up to you, but still feel tormented by your feelings for him. Considering the two of you are already going through the motions of living as a happy couple, it feels strange to not be romantically involved.
You hear the rustle of sleek fabric as Homelander slides into the makeshift bed, close, but still a too-safe distance away. “Did you have a good time tonight?” he asks, his tone with a hint of worry as though he’s afraid you didn’t.
Braving the vision of his bare body that no doubt awaits, you turn back to face him. He’s propped himself up on his pillow, his weight on his elbow as he looks you over for signs of negativity. Thankfully, he’s mostly covered with just his waist up exposed. It’s still difficult not to gulp as he continues to talk.
“Were the hot dogs too burnt? Maybe I should get a grate for the pit. Make it like a grill…” he’s rambling on about his ideas, looking off to the side as he considers the possibilities.
You can’t help but wonder if he’s as nervous as you are or if he’s just oblivious. It’s sometimes hard to tell with Homelander.
Clearing your throat in an attempt to focus your sex starved brain onto the matter at hand, you interrupt him. “Yeah they were a little burnt, but it’s OK. It’s not like I’ve ever cooked a hot dog over an open fire before. So, I’m not complaining.” You shift between the blankets, rolling onto your back as you cross your hands beneath your head.
Homelander lets out a sigh and your turn your head to see that he’s mimicked your position. He’s looks at the ceiling of the tent, folding one hand under his head and resting the other on his stomach. He glances back at you, giving a small hum in response, as if he were lost in thought for a moment.
“Yeah, it’ll be better next time. We just need a little practice,” he says with an unsure grin, turning his attention back to the ceiling. It’s quiet for several moments and it seems like the conversation is going to die, until he finally adds, “You know. I’m glad you’re here… with me.”
You give him a touched smile, surprised by his direct display of affection. You’re used to reading between the lines with Homelander, judging how he feels mostly by his actions when there is a lack of meaningful words. Even though you know he appreciates your company, especially given he is so desperate for it, it’s a nice change to hear him actually admit it out loud.
“Yeah, me too,” you say feeling at a loss for words. “This was a cool idea.”
His features seem to relax considerably when you return the gesture with gratitude. You can’t help but get distracted by the cold glow of the lantern reflecting in and accentuating his already blue eyes, but you don’t miss when they travel down your form. His glance flicking down your shoulder and to your side, then hanging longer than usual at the tease of your thighs peering out from under the sleeping bag.
When he sees you take notice, he tries to play off his leer with concern. “Are you cold?” he questions, his voice coming off casual.
You raise your brow knowingly, but let is slide. “Nah,” you reply with a smirk. “These bags are surprisingly warm. They’re almost too hot.” You glance down at your legs and decide to kick the blanket off further. “Besides, I always sleep like this.”
His eyes darken as he takes in the expanse of your bare legs. Homelander swallows, trying to keep his cool, but failing miserably as his gaze lingers persistently on your newly exposed skin.
“Always, huh?” He comments absentmindedly, the corner of his mouth twitching.
You had hoped to get his attention, sure, but now you can’t take the oppressive way he is staring at you. You’re not sure if it’s creeping you out or turning you on - it’s probably a combination of both. You try to think of a way to make things feel less awkward and manage to murmur out something anything but.
“Besides, at least I have a shirt on… You’re a pair of briefs away from being completely naked.” It sounds better in your head, than when you actually say it. Shit! Your squirm internally, realizing you’ve just backed yourself further into a corner. If this were any other situation, you’d gladly take the opportunity to jump his bones, but this is different. He is different.
Homelander scoffs with a look of incredulity. “I-I’m never cold,” he tries to assert with false bravado, but his tone falters under your gaze. He stumbles over his next words, trying to maintain his usual cockiness. “I’m a supe… A-and my body generates a lot of heat.” He mutters, trying to excuse his propensity to wear minimal clothing in bed.
“So, that’s why it always gets so damn hot,” you consider openly, distracted momentarily by the revelation. It seemed every night since you started staying with Homelander, you woke up sweating, having to kick the covers off completely from the sweltering heat. “Hmm,” she muses, “Well at least we won’t need a space heater in here.”
“No need for that,” he mutters, his tone lower than before.
The drop in octave is a subtle warning that forces your attention back to him, but not quickly enough. In a flurry of movement, the sleeping bags ruffle loudly as Homelander pounces on top of you. His eyes are wild, almost feral, as they rove over your body, his hands pinning your arms to the ground.
“I can keep you warm, beautiful,” his voice is smooth and strangely confident considering how cringe the line had been. You’re pretty sure from the way he was stammering just moments ago, that it’s an act though. You can’t possibly mind, given the close proximity of his body and how good he feels weighing down on you.
But the reality of what’s happening begins to dawn on you, your eyes growing wide as he traps you beneath him. Why is he making a move now after he’s ignored the temptation of you for so long? And why does it feel so forced and wrong? It should feel perfect given everything else the two of you have shared so far.
You find protest and confusion are the first emotions that war to the surface. “U-Uh… Homelander?” you say stupidly, unable to even focus with the feel of his bare legs against yours and his cock stiffening against your thigh. “W-what are you doing?”
Homelander’s chest rumbles with a low growl when you question him, as if your words pissed him off. “What does it look like?” he snaps back, his voice dripping with annoyance.
He tightens his grip on your forearms, his knees forcing your legs further apart so he can settle his hips against yours. He’s untethered, unlike his usual calculated persona, and there’s an element of desperation marking his features.
His eyes are dark now, the sky blue color drowning in dilated pupils. “I’m doing what I should have done weeks ago.”
“W-wait…” you find yourself babbling. “Shouldn’t we- Shouldn’t we talk about this first?” You gulp, the spit getting stuck in your throat as your try to swallow. You plead with him, your lip trembling slightly with the implications of what this will mean for your fledgling relationship.
He starts lifting up your shirt with a devious grin plastered across his face and you’re instantly torn between so many warring emotions. Lust and the deprivation of release that sex had provided you with is hugely present, but there’s also a remorse, a shame hanging heavy on your conscience. It would be so easy to let go and indulge in what he was offering, but….
“I don’t want to fuck this up!” you bark out suddenly, almost confusing yourself by the sound of it.
Homelander’s smirk falters for a moment, his eyes slightly narrowing in response. His hand pauses in the act of lifting your shirt any further, and he looks positively morose.
He pulls away completely then, retreating back to his own space and leaving you cold in the absence of his heat. Homelander regards you with a cross expression, urging you to clarify.
“What do you even meant by that?” he asks, the lurid aggression now gone from his voice, replaced with sharp accusation. “I thought you wanted this.”
“I do,” you say feeling stupid for sounding so contrary. “But, you haven’t shown any interest in me all month. Then all of a sudden you jump my bones? Why did you change your mind so suddenly about us?”
Homelander lets out a weary sigh, folding his arms against his chest as he looks away. He’s clearly not enjoying this change of mood, but he does offer a response.
“Nothing’s changed suddenly,” he grumbles with bitter emphasis. “I’ve wanted you for weeks now, you have no idea…” he admits sullenly, his eyes shifting back to you.
“It’s just…” he trails off with a groan. “It’s a little harder for me than you might think. And I didn’t want you to think…” He stops himself short, letting a huff through his nose before continuing in a much softer tone. “To think that I just wanted you… for that…”
You stare at him bewildered for a moment, almost amused by his petulant manner. It takes a moment to even understand what he’s getting at, but then you finally grasp what he means.
“Ohhhh,” you say sounding like an astonished stoner. “You mean, you didn’t want me to think you were just interested in sex?”
He is clearly a little embarrassed now, his cheeks flushing and his eyes looking off to the side again in avoidance. He looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here in this tent, having this conversation with you.
Reluctantly, he mutters out, “Yeah…”
You feel a pang in your heart, trying to hold back the reaction you want to give which undoubtedly would involve tearing up as you let out an ‘Awwww.’ It’s so fucking adorable how impossibly awkward he is, how he’s always trying even when it seems like he’s being shitty and inconsiderate.
Your body acts on its own accord, getting to your knees as you crawl towards him, hesitant if only for the lack of clothes between your bodies. In the past, you’d have been so forward with him, not even hesitating if he came on to you. Now you find yourself afraid to make the wrong move.
You place your hands on each of his knees, looking at him as the memories flood back. The whole point in Homelander taking you in had been to rehabilitate you in a away. ‘You need someone to save you from yourself’ as he had so aptly put it on that life changing night. It was no wonder he was now torn by the idea of fucking you.
“And you don’t want to be a part of the problem?” you ask, feeling like you’ve got a pretty good grasp on the issue at hand now.
Homelander tries poorly to maintain a look of stoicism, glancing almost neurotically at your hands traveling up his thighs. He reaches down to grab your wrists, keeping them from moving any further as though trying to isolate himself from your touch.
“Yeah, something like that,” he replies, trying to brush it off.
You offer him a smile as the warmth of his thoughtfulness fills you with content satisfaction. Never before has anyone been this considerate of your well being and even though you had your doubts about essentially being held hostage by Homelander’s good intentions, you are are now incredibly grateful that he cared enough to try.
Slipping your wrist out from his loose grip, you rear up on your knees, placing a hand tenderly on his cheek. “Thank you,” is all you can even think of to say, because it’s all that keeps running through your head. How appreciative you are for this experience, a connection you didn’t think was possible with another person.
Homelander leans into your touch as though starved for affection, his cheeks hot under your gentle touch. A reverent look settles in his eyes as he processes what you’ve said, and he pulls you onto his lap with an urgent need. His arms wrap around your waist, holding your tightly against him, acting as though he’s afraid you might disappear if he lets go.
You’re startled at first by the closeness and strength of his embrace, but you relax quickly. Cradling his head against your chest, you run your fingers through his hair, soothing him because it just feels like he really needs that right now.
“Look, we don’t have to rush,” you find yourself reassuring him in a calming voice. You can sense his desperation, the need to be held, nurtured, and cared for. They’re not unlike your own cravings. “To be honest… This with you… Feels much better than all of the empty sex I’ve had combined.” You utter a nervous laugh, hoping he gets what you mean and won’t judge you. “Let’s just.. Let it happen naturally. Hm?”
He nods his head slightly, his face nuzzling to the side so he can respond. “Yeah… Just,” he begins to speak in a quiet voice. “Just promise me something.”
You lean back slightly so you can look down at him, “What is it?”
One of his hands roams to your hip, his grip flexing as he pulls you closer. “Don’t go running back to your old life. Don’t leave me.”
You can’t help but melt, grasping his dear face in your hands at the heartbreaking sound of his familiar loneliness. It was an aching sadness you knew all too well. “Oh my sweet boy,” you say without hesitation. “I would never leave you…” Never is a strong word, but you’re pretty sure you actually mean it. After all, nobody has ever taken such good care of you in your entire life. Not your parents, not friends, certainly not boyfriends. There was a pull between you and this man that you felt certain couldn’t be severed.
“Besides,” you add with a sardonically pointed laugh. “You already said the first night you took me in, that you’d hunt me down if I tried to run away.”
Finally, he cheers up when he hears your acceptance of his overzealous behavior. The corners of his mouth ticking up in a smirk as he shifts backwards, making some space between you both. “Damn right I will,” he barks out with a scoff, the scared little boy retreating once more as his prideful counterpart steps forth.
You can’t help but crack up at how quickly he falls back into line with his typical arrogant behavior, but at least now you see it for what it truly is.
“Do you wanna try and get some sleep?” you ask as a small yawn escapes you. Suddenly the thought of finally getting to feel those arms holding you tightly all night, the safety and security of it, sounds really appealing. “We could get some cuddle time in.”
Homelander chuckles when you mention cuddling, his eyebrows rise as he relishes the idea. “I’m down for that, he says with a sly grin on his face. “As long as I get to be the big spoon.”
“Aww, c’mon!” you feign complaint as you drop down from his lap and lay down with your back towards him. “I wanted to be the big spoon!”
“Too bad, princess,” Homelander hums as he crawls up behind you. He drapes himself against you, pulling you closer until your back is pressed flush to his broad chest. You fit nicely against him, like two lost puzzle pieces that have finally come together to complete a full picture.
You make a pouty little sound as you wiggle your back into him, nestling your head into your pillow as you get comfortable. As you settle, he responds with a huff of contentment, his hand snaking around your waist and trapping you in place securely. You feel protected, shielded, from everything bad in his arms. Drifting off, you can’t help but muse, that even though he might not realize it, Homelander really is a hero. Your hero.
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Holy shit, guys.. This was officially the fluffiest fluff from the land of fluffington. What the fuck did I just write? I think my Daemon fic has been so raunchy as of late, that I had to make up for it with all of this sweet as apple pie Homelander fluff. Oh well, you guys love it! :)
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What do you think is going to happen to Callum in s7?
Ah! So I'm a big fan in the idea that Callum and Rayla are in the inverse position compared to the other - Rayla promised to "make the sacrifice" and kill Callum should the need arise, but Callum never actually promised to make the sacrifice. So rather than what everyone is predicting (that they both break their promises), I actually think that what's going to happen is: Callum "keeps" the promise he never made, and Rayla breaks the promise she made.
So, I think what will happen is that Callum will face the choice to either save Rayla or the greater good. I think most fans are on the right track that he'll realize that he can't make these binary choices anymore, and instead choose a third way, realizing that even though he can't control the things around him, what he can control is himself. So when face with the prospect of doing Dark Magic, he will refuse, thus breaking the cycle of corruption that humans have been facing for a thousand years.
However this choice comes at a cost to himself - while he avoids doing Dark Magic, Aaravos is ultimately able to corrupt him anyway. After all, he was able to corrupt all of Lux Aurea, so why couldn't he just corrupt Callum through other means? This allows him to control Callum, and Rayla is now faced with the choice herself - Callum, or the world.
As many suspect, Rayla can't seem to make the sacrifice. She cannot keep her promise. Instead, she tries reaching out to him instead. Callum, meanwhile, is faced with a particular circumstance - since he didn't do dark magic himself, his "star" wasn't extinguished and is keeping the corruption at bay. He now has both Light and Dark within him. And - in a callback to how he was frozen in place by Finnegrin - Callum is able to make a breakthrough regarding the Star Arcanum, realizing that Primal Source is all about containing both light and darkness in the same space; just as the sky has stars nested together with the dark void, so too must his heart keep both the good (Rayla, Ezran, love) together with the bad (pain, his dark side, etc.). By realizing this, he discovers his full potential, thus foiling whatever plan Aaravos had in store for him.
Now if this all seems pretty cheesy (it is, that's the TDP Special at this point), I think it's also important to remember that whatever happens next, Aaravos has to be defeated. And thus far, everything seems to be going his way. Every step is going as planned, thus something has to halt whatever he's got in store next. And Aaravos' plan for Callum - to be "destined to play right into my hands" - seems like a logical and natural place to do it.
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silentoathprincess · 1 month
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Written for KouAo week 2024 Day 1: Crossdressing Koujaku wears a new outfit to tempt his boyfriend. Will likely remain a oneshot due to time constraints.
i miss contributing to the DMMD fandom here you go lovelies
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purpurussy · 1 month
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#tw suicide#idk i feel like i am probably gonna kms after TIT#i would do it sooner but i asked one of my friends to come with me and it would suck if i made him go alone#and it is something to look forward to which is helping me hang on i guess#but ughhhh once uni starts again in september i know everything is gonna fall apart.#i already got an extension on my thesis due to being a useless shell of a person who can't motivate themselves to do anything atm#but i was supposed to get some work done over the summer and have so far done nothing#hence why i want to kms before i have to talk to my fucking supervisors again and admit yet again that i simply cannot do this 😭#and it's not just this. my executive dysfunction has been so bad over the past couple of years and it's only getting worse#to the point where i can't imagine being able to work at all. and if i can't work i can't get out of my parents house#and then what the fuck is the point.#every time i see someone on here talking about bonding with their parents over dnp I'm like damn what's it like#to have parents who actually want to talk to you DSFGJJKL i know they let me live in their house at my big age#but that's only bc id literally be homeless otherwise and they're not like evil. they just don't love me#also went through a deeply embarrassing breakup recently#tl;dr ive been in love with this person for over a decade and i thought they were the dan to my phil or vice versa.#then after 10 years they left me and i'll spare the details but it has me wondering if they ever loved me#i thought it was a “let's live together and get a cat one day” relationship#but now i feel like for them. it was just a “sex and video games” type situation#i am trying soooo hard to at least be creative bc that makes me happy sometimes but it's hard to not be overly critical of myself#and now im getting to a point where i can barely even find any joy in this space any more. for a bunch of reasons#most of which revolve around me being extremely sensitive. and this is like my last bastion of dopamine so that fucking sucks#idk i don't see the point in my life any more. a social worker actually told me recently that i should consider euthanasia so.#it's just completely over for me i fear#this is not even mentioning all the damn migraines. and all the other ways in which my body simply doesn't work properly#sorry for this weird ass vent I'm not in therapy any more bc i couldn't find a therapist willing to treat me+all my diagnoses at this point#and im scared my friends will stop wanting to talk to me if i talk to them about this. several of them already have#the 2 friends i have left anyway. that's a whole other thing. when they said it's hard for autistic ppl to make friends i took that persona#so uh at this point it's vent here or develop a substance abuse problem. and im already halfway to having a substance abuse problem#anyway dan and phil for the love of god please fucking post something tonight. unfortunately you are my only hope
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mmm essay about sally and kid gort in the tags (cw for child abuse, mentions of suicide, animal cruelty and a murder attempt. i always hope i don’t have to say this but just in case: i don’t excuse or condone any of her or gort’s behaviour at all.) this is literally not even touching upon everything i have to say because i hit the fucking tag limit lmao. NOBODY READ IT’S BAD BRAINSTORMING I JUST NEEDED TO GET IT OUT SOMEHOW
#thinkin too much about gortie side characters again.#sally this time and why she specifically talks about him the way she does#like dravo is obviously still shitty but to me he was. ‘just ‘neglectful#while sally actively hated and even felt terrorised by her own child#like. it’s not like i don’t understand her at all.#imagine you and your love don’t have much besides each other and your shop and you get pregnant and ready to raise a child#only for it to not be a child he didn’t and doesn’t cry ever and he learns everything so much sooner than most but then he never calls you#his parents and it’s not just a petty thing kids do sometimes you feel that he doesn’t see you as family and the worst part is that you#agree deep down#and as he gets older he doesn’t have any friends and actively rejects the notion of the entire concept#but then as time passes you hear about how he has entire groups of children following him and then several of them commit suicide#and that thing coming to sit with you and dravo at the dinner table says that he did what you did last week when the axe to chop wood broke#and you discarded it and got a new one#and he has these habits of ripping out flowers and making sure that they don’t regrow#and then you hear rumours about a friend’s daughter’s cat disappearing and think nothing of it#until you visit his tree house a month later and find a declawed cat and birds with clipped wings and crushed bugs that he keeps fondly#and then you see him with other children and they don’t know and his face is different and body language is entirely different#and were it not for the fact that you know better you would never see anything but a normal child#and you know that you are one who painstakingly brought this thing that should not be into the world and so you decide to end it all one da#and go to him as he’s asleep with the knife shaking in your hand#but he cries when you’re above him! screams at the top of his lungs!#so you beg for forgiveness even though you don’t deserve it through tears but as soon as the knife is put away you see the act drop and fee#his clever fingers having twisted your brain inside and out and you know that you can do nothing#and so the opportunity arises to at least remove him out of your life if not everyone’s lives and you take it immediately.#but you heard him talk. how he will close his fist around the world one day. and you know that it is not a matter of if but when.#like. imagine that. jesus dude.#like i hc her as someone that is messy and does not know a lot about life and she certainly wouldn’t have been a good mother but the love#or at least desire to love is there somewhere. and believing that having a child is really the only somewhat meaningful thing she can do#with her life. she’s not some hero or rich or anything of note. so there’s a lot obligation and not genuine desire for family here.#but she never really got the chance to be an actual mother in the first place so. who knows what that might have looked like
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calamitydaze · 6 months
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long tag ramble below u have been warned
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#ok i feel like i should say Something before i start being active again#but i dont want it to be a Statement which is why i’m putting it in the tags#(also bc i procrastinated doing this for weeks so i know this is a very stale topic by now#but i also haven’t been on tumblr literally at all so this is 100% my organic authentic opinion lmao)#so read if you gaf and ignore if you don’t#anyway: george def could’ve done more to ensure she was comfortable#and as someone who has also gotten in over my head with older men and regretted it#her hurt is valid and i’m deeply sorry she feels the way she does about that night#but with that said i see no reason to believe george Should have known how she really felt#or that he deliberately took advantage of either her youth/inexperience or her discomfort#and that’s the most important thing for me— he fucked up and misread a situation but that doesn’t make him an evil person#and i hope they can both move on and grow and heal#as for my future in the fandom: i honestly dunno how active i’ll be going forward#i was already becoming pretty disconnected so this might’ve just sped up the process? i’m tired of being put through the wringer#but i also don’t really have a fandom to replace this so i might just continue casually participating in the way i have been#either way rest assured i will never become a rabid anti. that shits embarrassing#i got HORRIBLE drolo rsd the other day when tommy’s mom needed clout and vagued him so like if nothing else. droloisms are forever#also as a last thing— this feels kinda silly and self centered to say but i will anyway#sorry for not opening up my blog as a forum for discussion again the way i did with the drituation#i know i helped a lot of people sort out their feelings and that was (and is) really really important to me#but it also tanked my mental health (mostly as a result of the fallout and not the act itself but still)#plus my life irl was pretty stressful at the time when everything was first going down#so i just didn’t feel up to putting myself through that again#but i’m sorry if anyone wanted to discuss w me but wasn’t able to#anyway. i think that’s all i have to say!#i don’t want to turn this into a capital D discussion but as always my askbox and dms are open#love you all tons! i hope you’re having a good day 🫂🫶#bella talks
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phantomsaboteur · 28 days
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staring so intensely at diasomnia tonight. trying to figure out how to write them when we're following rollo's perspective and not my own. fuck
#vincent talks#i genuinely have been enjoying learning how to see through rollo's eyes for this but oh my god we are so fundamentally different#i'm currently at the stage where i need to introduce the reader to our primary location#and. if it was me. i would be paying attention to EVERYTHING#i would be thinking about the colors and the era things are from and the potential significance#but rollo isn't like that. he would not stand there and stare at a bunch of knick-knacks or lovingly count the panels of wallpaper#that's not his vibe. he doesn't care about those things#but he does care about SOME things#i am restraining myself so heavily#to put this in perspective:#rook has never once lost me on a concept. i am always right there with him.#his analysis to track down trey during bean fest? exactly how i would find a friend if we got seperated#overthinking and critical analysis but in the romantic arts way (to put it kindly) is where i tend to end up when left to my own devices#rollo is just. not that kind of guy#at all. oh my god not even a little bit#UNTIL IT MATTERS TO HIM#and so very few things matter to him. god he needs more hobbies#but then we contrast that with diasomnia as a whole which tends to sway more romantic#malleus in particular is a hard opposite if only because we do regularly get to see his interests#the way he accidentally gives out advice is a prime example#lilia is analytical and can be very brutal but is actively striving to see things differently#sebek sees things in extremes with the most obvious being how he expresses loyalty and admiration#but we get to see basically none of that for rollo#his vignette does help more given how he speaks to the bell of solace#but this is still a very slim amount to work off of#so i have to fill in the gaps without straying too far from the characterization i've already decided on#the least obvious opposite for rollo in this internal way is lilia but i think i want him to be the difference we linger on#rollo has been stuck in this very dull interpretation of the world around him for a very long time with little effort to change that#so having lilia in his immediate vicinity who is doing exactly that and succeeding should bring necessary contrast in a way the others can't#...i mean. hopefully. i could fumble this whole thing so easily
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jacksintention · 1 year
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I'm thinking again on the fact that so often comments, criticism and readings on Jack dwell a lot on how he is barely human/a person/doesn't have a personality at the point of the story and, while I somewhat understand these points, I find them so lacking. I find them... ableist? I'm always doubtful to use the word here because I'm not sure if it's applied in this kind (mental health) of context, but something like that. And I find them extremely simplistic.
However, honestly, a big part of the reason for these readings being so popular is that the manga itself words it that way. But that's one of the problems I find in the manga. When I say P.andora Hear.ts is very good but unfortunately it is very manga-like at times, besides the 2000s homojokes and the like, I'm usually thinking about things like this. I feel like often characters and situations that are (potentially) very intricate instead of getting insightful deep overviews often get screwed by the writing itself, which falls into very manga tropes a lot in a bad way (not that every manga has to fall into them, or that every manga trope has to be bad or written badly).
I don't know... For instance, I'd argue R.askolnikov's capacity for love in Cr.ime and Punishmen.t is debatable, but it's never treated as if it made him less of a person, a human being or made him not have a personality. I'd say not even Svidrigailo.v, who is as much a Bad Guy™ as a character can be, gets that treatment by the writing. I'd say that even him or Mikol.ka are written as fully fleshed human beings with their intricate internal lives and feelings. Svidrig.ailov's last scene with D.unya is fascinating for both characters and spins the whole dynamic and makes you question the entire narrative and veracity of not only those two characters, but brings to mind several other conversations among different characters and throws light (and doubt!) on the main plot between R.askolnikov and Porf.iry.
In similar situations, Jack's humanity, personhood and personality are debated, doubted and even full on accepted as vanished. No one reads Crim.e and Punishmen.t and comes to the same conclusions about Raskolni.kov, Svidrig.ailov, Sony.a or Razu.mikhin. The writing doesn't allow it. The writing doesn't allow you to forget that humanity is diverse and multifaceted, that it can be sad and cruel and loving and monstrous, even all at the same time, or that a person may struggle with feeling at all; and one is still a person.
#This honestly is one of the things if not The Thing that frustrates me the most of P.H#I've seen this kind of 'that's not a person/human/doesn't have a personality anymore' readings with The S.tranger by Camu.s#And they were imo also simplistic (and that's coming from someone who didn't like the book)#They were also made by my Ethics professor in college who was from the O.pus De.i#Anyway this is a post because I imagined I wouldn't be able to fit everything in the tags#I should probably delete this later#but I wanted to get it out of my system first. I've been thinking about this a lot again after reading the guides and I got angry again#I don't think manga as a medium necessarily has to treat characters this way#but there's often a big simplification of characters in general in a particular flavour#And I think Jack (arguably Vincent too) suffers from this. The exact same thing happening with Jack could be written slightly differently#and cease to have that shonen manga for edgy teens flavour it gets in like two pages#that doesn't ruin but definitely stains a 104 chapters characterisation that was so well crafted#(especially given most fans take everything at face value without thinking much about anything like vacuum cleaners of text)#I don't know. Despite how this manga is a lot about humanity being able to exist or take place#beyond the conditions of one's existence being “fake” through our actions and relationships with others‚ ourselves and the world‚#I don't like how characters like Jack are treated in that context#I understand why it's done and what it's trying to say‚ the Jack/O.z foil is super interesting in that regard. I don't even think#the writing fully falls into the mistake of 'thinking' Jack is not human/a person. But I find very unfortunate some of the writing choices#when dwelling on this‚ and even so distasteful at times#And as a consequence many fans just take the slippery slope and make a cardboard mimicry out of some great characters#But the manga/writing concedes a bit with that angsty teen air. And it's frustrating#I talk too much#Trying to pseudocensor words for the first time#to see if this way my 4am soliloquies won't appear in the tags of people just living their lives#Tumblr please let me rant about nothingness that interests only me without disturbing anyone please#I'm already mad I can't tag these at all anymore in my own blog for organisational reasons without them appearing for everyone everywhere
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rosicheeks · 6 months
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🌸🦖🌿?
-🌸
🌸 Best compliment you ever received?
I feel like it had to be something about my personality. Personality compliments are always top tier for me and then singing compliments are probably next 🩷
🦖 Favorite extinct animal?
Dinosaurs???? I’m sorry I’m awful lol
🌿 Describe your favorite outfit.
Right now I don’t think I have a *favorite* outfit. My go to outfit when I want to look cute is usually a skirt and a top that is either a crop top or I crop myself 😂
#I actually have a box somewhere of a bunch of hand written compliments I got when I was in school#some were notes and some was from church#even if I don’t know the person anymore it’s still nice to look back at them#also my school had a Facebook page where you could anonymously post compliments about other students so I wrote those down somewhere too 🫶#true and genuine compliments really hit me deep#the you’re beautiful or cool or nice or sweet#is nice to hear but it’s nowhere near the feeling you get when someone actually says something from the heart#sad thing is I don’t remember many personality compliments - I remember a few singing compliments but not many and I have a feeling that#my negative thoughts over the years just ended up drowning them out or ya know my memory sucks either way lol#my first thought was dinosaurs and then I was like nah they aren’t animals so I tried looking up extinct animals but then I got overwhelmed#so I was like eh I’m gonna just put dinosaurs but then I thought about it and was like……. if dinosaurs aren’t animals what are they#so I looked it up and I saw two different things saying either animal/reptile (I’m guessing depending on what type but who the fuck knows)#as for outfit that’s a hard one still - I don’t go out much so I don’t wear half of my closet#most of the time I’m just wearing some comfy pants and a some random shirt#but I’ve been trying to go out more so I’ve been going through my closet and trying different outfits#nothing is really *clicking* and tbh it’s probably cause I should get rid of all of it and start fresh#but that’s a lot of fucking money sooooooo not gonna do that lol#anyway thank you for the questions lovely 🩷🫶#it was fitting for you to do the 🌸 it made me smile 🥰#ask#🌸 anon
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magentagalaxies · 2 years
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idk why my brain decided folding laundry while listening to rollercoaster by bleachers at 11:26pm was the perfect conditions to finally process the fact that other girls is going to be finished in less than three weeks but im genuinely gonna lay motionless on the floor letting all these feelings wash over me rn????
#i'm just. no one will ever be able to comprehend how much this show truly means to me#even *i* can barely comprehend how much this show means to me#i keep trying to put it into words. the show itself is me trying to put that feeling into words#but it always sounds like hyperbole when i say other girls is the most important thing i have ever done and may ever do#most of my audience is only seeing the final 1% of what this project has been for me#and that's the part people should see bc it's the finished product#but also like. this is the same show i thought was going to genuinely kill me when i was eighteen#i worked on this for three years because every time i got close to completing it something took it away#and i realized it's more empowering to remake it on my own terms than give up on it even when it hurts#this show has seen me through my school almost being shut down. my first major depressive episode (and my whole recovery process!)#and that's not even to mention having to cut off multiple toxic friendships with the very first cast i had in 2020#when i got into my dream school senior year all i felt was anxious because i thought other girls was never going to happen#and i thought that meant i would never make it as a comedian (don't ask me how that works depression makes you believe weird things)#and in the years since i've found my way at this school and realized my worth as a human being doesn't depend on other girls#and that other girls belongs to me and not the other way around#and i was able to take this source of shame. this perceived failure#and turn it into a production far bigger than i could've imagined back in 2019#it gave me a chance to connect with a cast and crew full of some of the most incredible people i've ever met#and most importantly i'm able to make the show i wish i could've seen when i was young and alone#other girls is just a love letter to my younger self. like even though i know you can't hear me i just want to tell you you'll be okay#anyway side note i'm gonna get to talk to paul bellini again tomorrow#SPECIFICALLY because he said he wanted to talk to me before other girls is out bc he thinks it's really cool and wants to hear more#and he asked me to send him the video as soon as it's up#so year other girls is honestly the wildest ride i've ever been on. going from crying in my room at 3 a.m. over hating the ending#to chatting about the production in less than 3 weeks with one of my comedy heroes#nothing is ever going to top this
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kamitv · 1 month
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▷ First Time?
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Synopsis . When you get paired with the campus asshole, Sukuna, for a project, the last thing you expect to learn about him is that he’s a damn virgin. Nor did you expect to be the one to change that. / Pairing . virgin!Sukuna x fem!reader / Content . afab!reader, oral sex (m!receiving), premature ejac, non-curse college au, dirty talk, pet names, degrading, porn w plot, teasing, taunting, filth, etc. / wc . 6k
A/N: ty to the nonnie on my main who asked if I’d ever write virgin!jjk men :3 [MDNI]
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Who would’ve thought?
Of all people, Sukuna, a virgin? It just didn’t make sense.
He was this stand-offish asshole who most people respected out of pure fear. He didn’t exactly do parties and yet you could always find him at one. He’d always have some chick on his arm or even in his lap so, in what world would anyone with a brain assume he’s actually never been inside a woman before?
And to make his lack of game all the more unbelievable, he’s even rumored to have a big dick— it’s like some overly well-known campus fact about the guy.
So, again, what reason would anyone have to think the guy was a virgin?
Certainly not you, of course. And you don’t expect to be the only person to find out such information either.
The way you find out is probably even more bizarre than the fact itself. You and him had little to no reason to ever interact with each other. You weren’t some shy nerd who holed herself up in her room all day or anything but you weren’t much of the party type other.
You were stuck somewhere in the middle of all that, vicariously living through some of your friends who had better things going for them.
As such, there was no real reason for you and Sukuna to cross paths. He never even had a reason to acknowledge your existence until the two of you are paired up together for a project in the one class you happen to take together.
——
The background noise is the chatter of your fellow classmates and their own project partners, you find your partner grumbling out a low, “What?” In response to your last statement, having hardly heard a thing you said.
“I said,” You huff, sitting beside the man in question as today marks week two of you being paired up with him for this semester’s project, “We should be meeting up outside of class too. We could get his knocked out in like a day if you just-“
“Oh that,” Sukuna cuts off casually. Seated all slouched back in his seat, his legs sprawled out in that signature manspread of his— he rolls his eyes at your little reminder, “You said somethin’ about that last week.”
You speak through slightly gritted teeth, fighting the headache he’s about to give you from this conversation alone, “All the more reason for you to take it into consideration. The faster we get this done, the less we have to deal with each other.”
As you say that, you glance at him only to find his eyes directly on yours already. He’s got such lazy posture, his head tilted slightly whilst he gazes at you so intently, and his big muscular arms folded across his chest. Even wearing a black hoodie and gray sweats, he still looks as attractive as ever— mean low-lidded crimson eyes locked on yours, tattooed face so beautifully defined, and rosy lips pulled into such an uninterested little frown.
Up until your words hit his ears properly, “The less we have to deal with each other, huh?” Sukuna repeats, narrowing his eyes even further at you, “You barely even know me ‘nd yet you want nothing to do with me already.”
“I know enough about you, Sukuna,” You say with a sigh, “And you hardly contribute to this project as is. Which only proves that everything they say about you is probably true.”
He arches a brow, his interest piquing, “And what exactly do people say about me?”
You let off a light scoff, “Don’t act like you don’t know.”
“But I don’t know,” Sukuna tells you honestly, maroon eyes boring into yours.
You stare for a moment as you try to decipher whether or not he’s being honest right now. How does he not know what people say about him? Everyone talks about his brooding personality very openly.
“They say you’re an ass,” You eventually say to the man.
To which his lips twitch into a slight smirk, “And you believe that?”
“Seeing as I’ve asked you to, at the very least, type your name on this document and you haven’t even done that yet,” You scoff, “Yes.”
The two of you mildly glare at one another for a moment before Sukuna leans up in his seat. Breaking eye contact for just a moment to look at his laptop, he swiftly moves to open up that shared document of yours and types his name out with a heavy sigh.
After which, he’s slouching back again and looking at you, “Don’t believe everything people tell you, woman.”
You roll your eyes at him, “What? Are you not fond of rumors? That still doesn’t negate the fact that you’re an assho-“
“When do you want to meet up?” Sukuna grumbles out almost reluctantly, watching the way you pause and swallow thickly as he catches you off-guard.
He’s almost even intrigued by how quickly you bounce back, despite being caught by surprise, “Friday. Are you free?”
“Unfortunately,” He grumps.
You give him a little shrug, “Good. I’ll see you then.”
And that was it. That was how each and every interaction with you and Sukuna went. Bickering back and forth about him not doing shit to help you with something that’ll affect your grade majorly, criticizing you about being too focused and needing to relax every now and then, and even calling you a stuck-up little brat one time— it was safe to say, you and Sukuna didn’t get along too well.
Not that you minded anyway. He wasn’t your first partner to care little about their grade so, you knew how to deal with these kinds of people by now. Typically, you indulge yourself in their craving to ‘relax’ just once and then they promise to start helping. You’ve gone down that path before and it’s worked for you then so you assume things will go the same way with Sukuna.
Plus, you guess you can give him a slight pass for his asshole attitude, at least he has a pretty face to look at. Dark ink always decorating his awfully smooth skin, deep dark yet beautiful ruby-shaded eyes boring into whatever it is his focus on, and broad shoulders looming over your smaller figure every time he stands in front of you— you can't help but feel both attracted and intimidated by the man.
——
Which is exactly why when you open your apartment door for the scheduled meetup that Friday to crane your head up at him, you’re swallowing thickly to settle your nerves. You’ve never been alone with the man so of course you’re a bit nervous.
Especially with the way he gazes down at you like that’s exactly where you belong: beneath him. His eyes are filled to the brim with intensity and yet he’s only just set them on you. Wearing a noticeable black compression shirt and those signature gray sweets of his, he almost appears as though he’d just come from the gym.
And just as you take in his appearance, he very openly takes in yours— his eyes raking over your body and taking in every single inch of you. After all, just as it was your first time alone with him, it was his first time seeing you dress so comfortably. He doesn’t even try to hide the way he stares at your tits peeking out from the rather thin spaghetti-strap top you were wearing, his eyes soon trailing down slowly to those tauntingly short shorts you had on.
“So,” Sukuna swipes his tongue over his lips and cocks his head to the side, hands stuffed in his pockets and eyes yet to lift from your legs, “Are you gonna stare at me all day or are you gonna let me in?”
You blink out of whatever little daze you were in, having found yourself gazing at his chest far longer than you meant to. It was right in front of your face after all, how could you look anywhere else? And his shirt was so damn tight, the fabric hugging his well-toned body perfectly, so much so that you swore you could make out piercings on his-
Sukuna leans forward suddenly, his face nearing yours to gain your full attention, “If you keep staring at me like that, I’m gonna assume you invited me over for something else-“
“Sorry,” You chirp out as you clear your throat and awkwardly step back a bit to let him in, “You can come in.”
Nodding, Sukuna slips by you and you shut your apartment door behind him. Then, you’re quick to lead him over to your living room where you’d previously been working on your project.
The two of you are hasty to take a seat on your couch, both of you only a few inches apart from one another whilst you lean toward your coffee table and log into your already open laptop. Sukuna’s eyes are all over you as always, studying your side profile, your intent focus on the screen in front of you, and even the way you-
“Did you even bring anything?” You suddenly ask before you glance at the man.
Sukuna quickly meets your gaze, ripping his eyes off of wherever they’d been previously, “Was I supposed to?”
“Sukuna,” You sigh out, “Please tell me you’re joking right now.”
He swallows at the mere sound of his name rolling off your tongue in that scolding tone of yours— he’s heard such a tone from you time and time again and yet, for whatever reason, it never seems to annoy him. 
“I’m not.” He says plainly.
“How are we supposed to work on this if you-,” You cut yourself off and decide not to even attempt arguing with him. Arguing won’t change the fact that he showed up with nothing. “Just uhm,” You glance elsewhere for a second before an idea comes to mind and you place your laptop down and stand up, “Stay here.”
Sukuna doesn’t say anything. He merely watches as you huff and walk off, swiftly exiting the living room and disappearing down a nearby hall. He swears he finds himself looking at you a bit more than intended. Especially as you walked off, his eyes dropping to your ass and those damn shorts of yours.
Even when you’re out of his sight, he still finds himself staring in the direction of which you went, almost unable to look away for whatever strange reason.
That lasts for a few minutes until he snaps out of it and leans back against the couch, tossing his head back and letting out a long sigh. You soon return to find him with an arm stretched along the back of the couch, his legs spread as usual, and his eyes up on the ceiling.
He doesn’t even notice you’ve returned until he feels something placed in his lap. Looking down, Sukuna finds your laptop kindly set on top of him. To which his brows furrowed in confusion and he looked at you to see you sitting on the floor in between the couch and the coffee table with a paper and pencil in front of you.
“What’s this?” Sukuna scoffs.
You don’t even spare him a glance as you begin writing something down, “How we’ll get things done.” He opens his mouth to say something but then you’re looking back at him with a glare, “I already organized the parts of this project that you have to do so, since it’s on my computer, you can work on that and I’ll work with what I remember.”
You wholeheartedly expected him to find something about this to disagree with you on but, to your surprise, he simply nods and redirects his focus to your laptop immediately.
And then, the two of you work exactly like that for the remainder of that little study session.
——
Sukuna’s not terrible to work with when it’s just you and him. If anything, he’s rather cooperative and a lot smarter than he leads on. 
Which is why a solid two hours of productivity flies by surprisingly smoothly with him. If you asked him a question, he answered. Told him to do something, he’d say something snarky, and then do whatever it is you’ve instructed anyway.
It all went so perfectly up until he let out a really heavy sigh, “Alright, I’ve had enough for this.” Sukuna says casually.
He’s been repeating a similar phrase every thirty minutes or so but he usually gets right back to work after getting ignored by you. This time though, you get the feeling he’s serious when he pushes your laptop off of his lap and places it forward on the coffee table.
It’s then that you frown, “Oh c’mon, we were getting so much done,” You comment as you glance back to him.
He shrugs, “I can’t keep looking at that damn screen, it’s giving me a headache.”
“Of course it is,” You utter sarcastically, rolling your eyes whilst you place your pencil down and throw your arms up to stretch, “Fine then, we can take a break.”
Sukuna’s brows lift in surprise. He didn’t expect you to listen to him, “Good.” He hums, “I was getting bored as well.”
You scoff, “Were you?”
“Yeah, can we do something else?” He asks.
Turning around, you rotate the way you’re sitting so that you’re facing him and your back is resting against your coffee table. “Like what?” You muse, meeting his low-lidded gaze.
“Talk,” Sukuna says.
That’s it? He wanted a break to talk to you? Your eyes are narrowing at him before you even realize, “Talk?” You repeat with a scoff, “Seriously?”
He nods, “Mhm.”
“What do you wanna talk about, Sukuna?” As you ask him that, you watch the way his eyes casually slide down to your lips.
Does he mean to be this indiscreet with his looks? Or is he eyeing you down like that on purpose?
The man shrugs, “Anything outside of fuckin’ school.”
You laugh at that, “Okay, I can work with that.”
He tilts his head at you and licks his lips, “Yeah?” Something about your little laugh threw him off. 
“Mhm,” You hum as you look down at your hand, fiddling with your nails a bit, “The rumors… are they true?”
Thrown off yet again, Sukuna’s brows pinch together. “Rumors?” He echoes in a genuinely confused tone, “What rumors, woman?”
The sound of your scoff makes him stiffen in his seat. Almost in an instant, the atmosphere had changed suddenly. “C’mon, don’t play dumb,” You tease, lifting your gaze to him again, “The rumors about you.”
He gives you a perplexed look and it’s almost as though you could see the gears in his head turning. “If you know something, say it.” He demands.
You sigh, “Sukuna, do you seriously hear nothing people say about you?”
Sukuna shrugs, “I don’t care enough to remember. So what is it? What rumor?”
You’re just curious. You swear that’s all it was. And, naturally, since he seemed to have warmed up to you— of course you wanted to know if that rumor about his dick was true. You’re both adults and it’s just a silly question. Plus, with the way he’s been looking at you all afternoon, you’re sure he won’t mind answering you with a simple yes or no.
Glancing to the side, your shoulders lift a bit, “It’s uh, rather intimate.” You hush out.
Sukuna narrows his eyes at you, “Intimate?? An intimate rumor about me?”
His emphasis on himself makes your eyes flick back over to him. “Yeah, are you sure you don’t know what they say about you??” You ask again.
“Positive. Now speak, what is it they say?” Sukuna huffs impatiently, even more curious about this little rumor after the mention of it being intimate. After all, he’s never-
“People say you have a big dick,” You utter way too casually.
So nonchalantly that it makes him choke, a choke you don’t mess with the way he clears his throat and sits up a little. “What?” He rasps out.
You bat those stupidly false innocent eyes at him, “I didn’t stutter,” Your tone dips into something different and he catches every bit of it, “People say you have a big dick, is it true?”
Sukuna clears his throat and for the first time, he glances away from you. Then, he opens and closes his mouth, contemplating his next words carefully before they soon fall from his lips, “You wanna find out?”
His offer spurs a shift in your seat from you as you scoot closer to him ever so slightly, “You wanna show me?” You ask boldly, your tone direct, and not even a flicker of hesitation present.
“Do I want to-,” Sukuna pauses, his eyes scanning the entirety of your seated frame as you inch closer to him, “What?” He huffs, swallowing thickly.
You move to stand on your knees and lean forward to the couch, soon propping your chin up on your palm as you look at him, “Show me,” You chuckle, “I asked if you wanted to show me, Sukuna.”
He blinks, “Show you my cock?”
You shrug, “Yeah.”
The air is so thick right now, Sukuna’s not sure how exactly he can play this off without making a fool of himself. He gulps yet again, only to watch as your eyes start to drop down along his body.
“Stop,” He rushes out, “Keep your eyes up here. On mine,” He commands in a low tone, earning your gaze once more.
And then it’s quiet for a moment. He’s staring at you and you’re obediently keeping your eyes up on his. Sukuna hates it but he doesn’t know what to say or do from here. The last thing he wanted was for you to find out his little secret. 
It’s like he was waiting for a fucking pin to drop, something to break the silence. Yet, his mind was going blank and words were failing him at the moment. He’s flirted with women before, plenty of times actually, effortlessly even— but for whatever reason, as you sit there with those stupidly pretty eyes staring at him, his mind simply flakes on him.
He’s like that for a minute longer until you move. So subtly too, sliding a hand to his thigh, leaning forward slightly, batting your lashes at him, “Sukuna?” You whisper.
His hips are rolling upward slightly at the sound of his name alone. “W-What?” He stammers, mentally cursing himself a thousand times over.
“If you don’t wanna show me you can jus’ say no,” You hum, smiling a bit, “Y’know that, right?”
He scoffs, “Of course I know that, woman.”
“If you know that then…” Your fingers lightly squeeze his thigh and you tilt your head, “Are you gonna tell me or show me whether or not those rumors are true?”
Something simply clicks inside Sukuna’s head. Rose-tinted lips cracking into a smirk, the man spreads his legs further and slouches back into the couch, “Find out for yourself since you’re so curious.”
Your eyes go wide, “What?”
Sukuna scoffs lightly, moving one of his arms from the back of the couch and placing his hand over his crotch. Of course, your gaze sinks down to his veiny hand, watching as he palms a stupidly large bulge in his sweats.
Your breath hitches a bit, “I-I-“
You don’t even get the chance to get it out before he’s cutting you off, “C’mere,” Sukuna hums in that low voice of his.
“What?” You whisper.
You and him make eye contact again and he nods his chin toward the space in between his legs. Nothing can really explain why you follow his gesture and quickly find yourself sitting in between his legs, taking a deep breath as you settle your hands on his thighs.
Sliding your touch up and up and up until your fingers graze his hand. The same hand that was resting on top of that aching bulge of his.
Sukuna slowly lifts his hand up and away, relaxing his arm on the back of the couch again as he stares down at you. Cocking his head to the side, “Well? Feel it.” He huffs.
You don’t even hesitate. Trailing your fingers upward carefully until you feel the outline of his cock beneath your fingertips, gulping as you drag your hand up to cup his length in your hand firmly, and smirking at the way his cock twitches furiously beneath your small touch.
Sukuna’s mouth falls open for a second but you’re too engrossed in feeling him to notice. He lets out a shuddered breath as he watches the way you grope his steadily growing erection. His head even tosses back and his fingers dig into the couch for a moment.
“It is big,” You whisper to yourself, your words only making him twitch more within your hand.
“Fuck,” Sukuna grits out lowly, hips unconsciously lifting to press himself further against you.
His curse earns your attention. You quickly glance up to him and see the way he’s got his head tossed back, Adam's apple bobbing with every heavy gulp he takes, and his chest rising and falling rather quickly.
You lift your hand carefully and decide to test something out. Slowly, you lean forward and just barely press your lips against his clothed cock.
Sukuna’s whole body reacts. He gasps louder than he means to and he’s weaving his fingers through your hair faster than he realizes, palming your scalp as he quickly looks down at you. “T-The fuck are you doing? Huh?” He huffs while gripping onto your hair.
You lift your head a bit but he keeps you in place, despite his question to you. “I just…” You’re not exactly sure you can explain yourself.
And by this point, Sukuna doesn’t think he cares enough to hear an excuse from you, “…You what? You wanna see it?”
All you can do is give him a little nod before he moves his free hand to the drawstring of his sweatpants. Then you're quick to help him tug them down until his boxers are revealed to you— a noticeable dampness in the fabric right where his leaking tip is. Was that because of you?
Before you can dawn on your own questions, Sukuna’s moving to tug his cock out. And fuck is he even bigger revealed before your eyes. With an upward curve, such an angry flushed tip, precum dripping from the slit of his fat cockhead, veins decorating his shaft and-
Shit, you were drooling. How’d you get like this again?? Ah, who cares?
“Sukuna,” You breathe out, ripping your eyes away from his cock just to look up at him.
He was almost panting, dark maroon eyes pouring down into yours, face flushed with different shades of red and pink, his lips parted softly— hell, he looked like he was in heat or something.
Gulping before he answers you, Sukuna clears his throat and his voice is already husky, “What?”
You shift against the floor, your hands relaxing against his large thighs, “Can I-“
“Yeah,” He cuts off. Lord knows if you got that question out he was going to lose his damn mind.
You raise a brow and lean forward, keeping your eyes on his while your lips near his tip, “Yeah?”
The last thing you get from him is a nod before you’re parting your lips. And from that moment forward, it all goes downhill. Everything from the way you’re sitting in between his legs to that initial connection of your plush lips against his drooling cock had Sukuna’s mind spinning.
He’s never been sucked off before. Hell, the farthest he’s gone as far as sexual activities are concerned is a little bit of dry humping. But this? Oh hell, this was his first time and he had zero idea how he was going to keep that information away from you.
Especially when he feels your tongue slip from between your lips and swirl around the head of his cock, kittenly lapping up that slim layer of precum sitting so prettily on his tip. 
“Oh f-fuuck,” Sukuna groans huskily, the hand on your head gripping tighter.
You pull away from him slightly just to take in his expression and the way he tosses his head back. It was almost cute to you. The last thing you expected was for him to be so damn sensitive, you hardly did anything.
His sensitivity only worsens as you finally start wrapping your lips around his cock, feeling him throb when you sink your mouth down on him. Sukuna’s jaw goes slack and his brows twist up. He tries his best to hold it in but he can’t help but moan at the way you leisurely suck on half of his lengthy cock.
Your saliva wets up the rest of his shaft and you make up for what your mouth hasn’t reached yet with your hand, stroking him lightly whilst you take the rest of his girth in and out of your mouth. Rolling your tongue around him, pulling off just to messily spit and kiss on his blushing tip, and slobbering all over him— Sukuna almost fucking kicked something with how good your mouth felt around him.
He’s used his hand and other shit before but holy fuck, nothing, and he means nothing compares to that damn mouth of yours. The way you look with his cock stuffed right in between those lips he’s been staring at for God knows how long— your lips all slick with spit, eyes rolling back the deeper you take him, and tongue sticking out every time you pull your mouth off of him.
You soon slip your mouth off of him and start jerking him off, focusing your tongue on his tip and slithering the wet muscle in between the slit of his cock, lathering your tongue up with his glistening precum. 
The sound of Sukuna groaning makes you look up at him, finding his eyes on yours again. He’s panting, trying his best to look like this wasn’t phasing him but failing in every way with how flushed his face was. 
Your tongue sticks out and your hand continues to slide up and down his cock as you tap his tip on your tongue, making his brows twist up. 
He bites back a throaty sound, “Hah… damn brat,” Sukuna huffs out as if to… degrade you? 
You almost find it cute how clearly inexperienced he is, spitting a fat wad of spit onto his pretty wet tip and then smiling at him, “Sukuna,” You coo, your hand gripping his shaft tighter, “Is this your first time?”
He instantly looks off to the side, the veins in his neck and along his jawline tensing as he grits his teeth. Since he decides to ignore your little question, you take it a step further and slide your hand down his cock, gripping his thick base firmly before taking him into your heavenly warm mouth again.
His expression breaks completely, “Oh shit,” Sukuna moans, his hips bucking up into your mouth as you slide him deeper into your mouth than you did before.
Then his hand is pushing your head down further on instinct and he’s subtly rutting his hips up. You lift your head up despite his constant pushing, soon causing your head to bob up and down whilst you suck him off skillfully.
“Jus’ like that,” Sukuna suddenly groans and you moan around his cock in reaction. To which he keeps giving your mouth mindless little thrusts, “Don’t s-, agh, stop.”
Sucking him deeper and deeper before you move your hand completely, you suck in a deep breath of air through your nose, open up the very back of your throat, and sink all the way down, your lips meeting his pelvis as your eyes roll to the back of your head.
Sukuna kicks something. Probably your coffee table with the way one of his legs extends out so suddenly, a choked-out groan ripped from his throat as your little move was all it took for him to cum. And it’s so much too, hot thick ropes of cum spurting down your throat, his hand holding onto your head for dear life whilst a moan of your name rolls off his tongue.
You’re still sucking too, pulling up only to swallow what he’s gifted you and then stick your tongue out. Laying it flat against his tip, you leisurely lick at him as if to beg for more and now the man’s pushing your head away for the first time.
When you lift your eyes up to him again, you notice he’s got his tattooed arm over his mouth and his lashes are batting softly at you. For such a big man, he was so ridiculously cute right now. Panting, sweating, cursing under his breath as if you couldn’t hear him.
“Yeah,” Sukuna utters suddenly, clearing his throat, “That was… my first… time. I uh-“
“Do you want more?” Is the last thing you asked him before you were sitting back on your heels and he was stumbling to his feet.
You had to guide him through it of course but, Sukuna doesn’t hesitate to stuff your face full of his cock again. You take him so kindly too, obediently sitting there with your hands gripping his thighs for support with every careful thrust of his hips.
He was trying to be gentle with you at first. Partially because he didn’t know what the hell he was doing, and also because he just loved the initial entry into your mouth. Over and over, Sukuna slid his dick in and out of your mouth like he was possessed, addicted to the feeling of you greedily sucking on him.
He was still sensitive from his first orgasm but his cock had yet to go down— twitching inside that sloppy mouth of yours, aching against your tongue, and dripping into the depths of your throat. Sukuna wasn’t much of a talker but he damn sure let out a plethora of grunts and groans.
They were so husk too, coming from deep within his chest, some getting caught in his throat when he felt your tongue flick against a specific vein on the underside of his cock. His fat tip knocked into the back of your throat with a single heavy thrust before his hands were latching onto the sides of your head.
Again, he’s not much of a talker but, something seems to come over him all at once because soon he’s got his gaze locked down on the messy sight of you and he’s huffing out words before he realizes. “Eyes up here, c’mon, hah… look at me,” Sukuna grunts.
Your eyes are completely glossed over as they flutter up to him. A moan vibrates against his skin as you make such intimate eye contact with the man, feeling his hips pick up.
Sukuna nods, “Good girl,” He praises in a low purr, and fuck does that do wonders for you because your legs are squeezing together more than they were before and you’re whining against him. “Fuck, y’like that?” He huffs, earning a sloppy lil’ nod from you.
He then feels you hum, “M-Mhm.” And he’s got chills slipping up his spine in pleasure.
Cracking a lazy, lopsided, and almost fucked-out little smirk, Sukuna scoffs, “Yeah? Fuck, behind all those g-glares ‘nd-, agh, scolding me… this is all you wanted, hm? A throat full of cock?”
His words had you whining again, fluttering your lashes at him as your fingertips dug into his thighs a little. Sukuna eases his hips back slowly, tipping his head to the side as he gently caresses the side of your face with his thumb.
“Messy girl,” He hums deeply, biting his lower lip at the way you’re just drooling for more and more as he pulls himself out of your mouth completely. “Jus’ look at this face,” Sukuna chuckles, “Y’look like a slut cryin’ like that— it’s cute.”
Blinking, you hadn’t even realized you had a tear or two sliding down your face. Your mouth remains open for a second before he moves to rub his tip against your plump lips, smearing your spit and his cum all over the damn place with a little grin on his face.
“‘Kuna…” You whisper, earning a quirk of his brow, “I can’t believe you’re a virg-“
“Don’t finish that sentence,” He grunts, moving a thumb to your chin to widen how open your mouth is for him, “Jus’… keep sittin’ there lookin’ pretty f’me,” Sukuna says.
You roll your eyes at him and all he can do is smile, pushing his hips forward again and easing his cock in between your lips. He slides in slowly until you can feel him pressing right against the back of your throat. To which he keeps himself there for a second, testing that gag reflex of yours and watching your eyes water.
Moving his hand back to the top of your head, he buries his fingers in your hair, “So fuckin’ sexy like this,” Sukuna compliments, feeling you moan in response, “M’gonna cum again, stay j-just like that,” He breathes out heavily, his eyes rolling to the back of his skull before he’s throwing his head back.
And as if to coax his orgasm out, you carefully move a hand to cup his balls, sucking on his cock as best as you can and earning an accidental sound from his throat. The second your palm is felt against him, the moment he feels your tongue slicking against him, Sukuna whines.
Then his thighs are tensing and he’s groaning loudly as if to cover up the sound that just left his lips, filling your throat with his seed and then tugging your mouth off of him with a quick pull of your head. You’re quick to swallow for yet a second time, letting out a needed cough after the fact while he stumbles back just a bit, his calves hitting the couch.
“Vixen,” Sukuna growls.
You clear your throat and send a smile his way, “Not my fault you cum easy.”
Sukuna’s slow to sit back down on the couch to catch his breath, “Tell anyone about this ‘nd I’ll-“
“Oh,” You suddenly purr, cutting him off as you lift yourself up from the ground. He watches with slightly widened eyes as you move to straddle him, “Don’t tell me you thought we were done?”
He’s at a loss for words all over again, his confidence suddenly getting caught in his throat and flying out the window. Your hands slip to his broad shoulders and you lean forward a little.
Sukuna’s hands shakily find their way to your waist as he stares up at you, “You want more?”
You smirk, tilting your head at the dumbfounded male, “Don’t you?” You ask in a sultry little whisper, making his sensitive cock twitch once more. “At the very least…” Your lips slowly near his and he’s losing his breath, “Taste yourself, Sukuna.”
And then your lips are on his and he’s taking your tongue into his mouth. His grip on your waist tightens before he pulls you flush against him, feeling your crotch press right against his cock that’s steadily twitching back to life.
The two of you share a heated and messy kiss, your hips carefully swaying against him to encourage his returning arousal. You can’t really use curiosity as an excuse anymore, can you?
Well, you can. And you do with the way your hands slide down to his chest, your fingers slipping over his nipples to find exactly what you’d been curious about. You flick your fingers over his piercing there and Sukuna lets out a low hiss, prying his lips from yours and sending you a glare.
Not only did that little move of yours make his cock spring up completely but, you also notice the frown on his face.
Smiling at him, “Sukuna…”
“Don’t.” He huffs.
“You have nipple piercings?” You end up asking anyway in a happy little tone.
He grits his teeth slightly, “…Obviously.”
Chuckling, you press a soft peck against his lips and whisper, “Can I see them?”
“No.” He replies.
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Part two.
3K notes · View notes
punkshort · 4 months
Text
Have A Good Night
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Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: Every week like clockwork, the same devastatingly handsome man comes into the grocery store where you work to buy flowers. It's not until he asks you out when you realize the flowers aren't for his wife or girlfriend.
Warnings: no outbreak AU, language, flirting, alcohol and food consumption, smut (18+ MDNI), protected piv sex, size kink, shy!joel, fluff, mutual pining, cringy/embarrassing crush interactions
WC: 7.9K
Written for @morallyinept's Flora & Fauna Challenge (masterlist here)
dividers by the one and only @saradika-graphics
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It was never roses that he bought. That should have been your first clue.
Every Friday he came through your checkout lane with a beautiful flower arrangement. Sometimes it was lilies, sometimes it was daffodils, but never roses.
He hardly spared you a glance when he slid his card through the machine. Occasionally he would comment about the weather or how busy the store was, but he rarely ever made eye contact.
It wasn't unusual and it didn't offend you. Most customers had other things on their minds and they preferred to get in and out of the store as quickly as possible. But this particular customer, the one with dark hair and eyes, broad shoulders and patchy beard always caught your eye. It was the best part of your week. You never had the nerve to say anything to him, but your friend Andy noticed the way you always got nervous when you saw him standing in line, how your demeanor shifted and your hands shook just a little bit.
He's not wearing a ring, Andy pointed out one day as you counted your drawer. You rolled your eyes.
That doesn't mean anything, you replied. Why else would he be buying flowers?
Then one day, as you scanned your handsome stranger's flowers, you noticed a few of the daisies were wilting.
"Do you want to pick out a different bouquet?" you had mustered up the courage to ask. The store was quiet, no one was lined up behind him. There was a big football game that night and it kept most people at home.
His eyes snapped up to yours and he froze like a deer in the headlights. You raised your eyebrows, waiting for an answer while trying to think if you said something stupid to warrant such a delayed reaction. "A few of these flowers are already dying. See?" You tilted the bouquet in his direction so he could see the flowers with the petals that were turning brown.
"Oh," he finally said, then nodded his head. "Y-yeah, thanks. D'you mind if I just-" he jutted his thumb over his shoulder.
"It's no big deal, I'll wait."
He gave you a crooked grin and disappeared back into the store. The florist department wasn't far from the registers but it was enough time for Andy to lock eyes with you from customer service and give you a look. You rolled your eyes at him and turned back around just as the hot flower guy was returning with a new selection.
"Thanks," he said again once you handed him his receipt. He didn't make a move to leave.
"Don't mention it," you replied, feeling Andy's stupid grin burning into the back of your head the longer hot flower guy stood there.
"Have you worked here long?" he asked after a brief silence that was bordering on uncomfortable. You blinked, taken aback at the random question and tried to ignore your heart fluttering excitedly in your chest.
"Um, just over four years," you replied. His beautiful dark eyes drifted over your face as he nodded and swallowed before looking back down at his flowers.
"You work most Fridays?"
You could feel your cheeks warming up and you wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole. How can someone be embarrassed for being embarrassed? Jesus, you were such a mess.
"Yep," you said, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear and praying he didn't notice how flushed you were.
He rubbed the back of his neck and shifted his weight. If you weren't so absorbed in your own uneasiness you might have noticed he was acting just as uncomfortable as you.
When he opened his mouth to say something else, a middle aged woman pushed her cart up behind him and began to unload her groceries onto the belt. He glanced quickly over his shoulder and nervously swiped his palm over his mouth.
"Have a good night," he told you abruptly, and before you had a chance to reply he was halfway to the front door.
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The following week was busier and you lost track of time. Typically, as your shift dragged on, you began to anticipate his arrival but on that particular day, you were distracted. Andy ended up having to help out on another register, it was so busy.
"You wanna come out with us tonight?" Andy asked you over his shoulder. He was closing down the extra register while you were finishing up with a young mom who had her hands full wrangling her toddler away from the candy.
"Uh, yeah, sure," you agreed absentmindedly, lifting the last paper bag into the cart. You tapped a key on your register so she could slide her card through the reader and looked over at Andy. "Where are you guys going?"
"Murray's," he replied immediately, his focus still on counting the coins in the drawer. You rolled your eyes and grinned.
"Why am I not surprised?"
It was well known Andy harbored a huge crush on a bartender there and he had been trying to work up the courage for months to ask for her number.
"Thank you, have a good night," you told the young woman, handing over her receipt with a smile. When you glanced up to greet your next customer, you felt your heart skip a beat when you were met with those dark brown eyes you had grown so enamored with.
"It must be later than I thought," you said, without even thinking twice. Surprise passed over his beautiful features as you scanned his flowers and then your nerves finally caught up with you. "I-I mean, you usually come in around the same time every week," you explained hurriedly. Andy was smirking at you from behind hot flower guy's broad shoulder and you made a mental note to punch him later.
"I didn't realize you noticed," he replied after he cleared his throat.
Oh, you idiot. You could tell you made him uncomfortable with your comment and you just prayed he didn't figure out you had been lusting after him all these months with the little observation you made.
"You always pick out the best flower arrangements, it's hard not to," Andy piped up. Relief flooded your veins for the save. Maybe you should rethink that punch. "Must be one lucky girl," he added with a mischievous wink in your direction before picking up the drawer and walking towards the office, leaving just the two of you with Andy's loaded comment hanging heavy in the air.
He took his time pulling his credit card out of his wallet, wracking his brain for something to say. His cheeks dusted with pink the longer he took to formulate a sentence.
"So... Murray's, huh?" he asked, cringing inwardly at the stupid question as he swiped his card.
You blinked, confused at the change in topic until it clicked. "Oh, yeah. He drags a bunch of us out after work sometimes because he's got a thing for a girl who works there." You gave the man behind hot flower guy a smile as he unloaded his groceries on the belt.
Your handsome stranger froze, his hand still holding the receipt midair while the gears turned in his head.
"So, you two aren't-"
"Oh, sorry, excuse me," the customer behind him mumbled when he accidentally bumped into him with his cart.
"Have a good night," you told him with a sweet smile, then quickly turned away, hoping your hair would hide your embarrassment.
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"I am not playing darts with her! Don't you remember last time? She almost took my eye out!"
"Oh, shut the fuck up!" you laughed, shoving Courtney, another co-worker of yours, in the shoulder. There were only five of you that night, Courtney being the only other girl in your group, but you were fine with that. Over the past few years you all bonded over the shared trauma of nasty customers and terrible management to the point where you were like family, and nights where you blew off steam only brought you closer together.
"Anyone need anything? I'm heading up," Andy shouted over the live band.
"Didn't you just get a water a minute ago?" you teased, knowing full well he was looking for an excuse to talk to the bartender.
"What can I say? I'm thirsty," Andy replied with a smirk before pushing his way through the crowd to get to the bar.
"When the hell's he just gonna ask her out? We've been coming here for months," Courtney said, turning away from the bar to look at you. You took a sip from your mixed drink and shrugged.
"Probably for the best. You know if he makes things weird then we'll need to find a new spot to hang out."
She giggled and winced when the band began to sing Journey off-key. "God, these guys are... not it."
"I think it's the owner's way of making us drink more!" James shouted from across the table, the four of you dissolving into laughter. He had a good point because your drink was nearly empty.
"Why didn't you just have Andy get you one?" Courtney asked when you slid down from your barstool.
"If I did, there was, like, a one percent chance he would bring it back to me within the hour," you told her, nodding towards Andy setting up shop against the bar, his eyes trailing after the cute bartender.
It took several minutes but you were finally able to wedge yourself between other patrons and secure a refill of your drink, but when you turned around to walk back to your table you nearly ran right into someone's chest.
"Oh! Sorry, I - " your eyes widened when you tilted your head up to find those familiar brown eyes staring down at you. "It-it's you!" you finally said as the shock began to wear off. He gave you a lopsided grin and nodded.
"Joel," he offered, sticking his hand out. Joel. Joel. Joel. You rolled his name around in your head like a ping pong ball. It suited him.
You took his hand, his long fingers dwarfing yours. "I'm-"
Then he cut you off and said your name and once again, you struggled to keep the shock from your face. "Your nametag," he explained, letting your hand go and gesturing towards his own chest where a nametag would sit. "I remember."
"Yeah," you said breathlessly with a smile. You glanced around the room while people shoved past you to get to the bar. "What are you doing here?"
His smile faltered a bit and he rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't live too far. Had the night to myself so I came out with my brother. He's over there," Joel pointed to the opposite corner of the bar but it was impossible to see him through all the people.
"Oh, cool," you nodded and took a sip from your glass. His eyes drifted to your lips, getting lost in the way they puckered around the straw. "Do you guys come here a lot?"
He chuckled and dropped his chin shyly to his chest before shaking his head. "No, um," he cleared his throat and looked back up at you. "Was hopin' I would run into you, actually."
"Me?" you squeaked and your heart began to race. He nodded and grinned.
"Yeah. Wondered if maybe you'd-"
A huge, burly man who definitely had too much to drink shouldered past you, accidentally shoving you into Joel's chest. His arms immediately wrapped around your ribs to steady you and somehow you didn't spill anything on his clothes.
"God, I'm sorry," you mumbled, his scent making you dizzy. You always had a register between you. Never before had you been that close, noticing he smelled like he had just gotten out of the shower and it was instantly overwhelming.
"It's alright," he said, his arms still loosely wrapped around your midsection. "But I gotta get this out before I lose my nerve, darlin'."
Darlin'. Your brows furrowed and before you could reply, he spoke. "I wondered if you wanted to go out on a date sometime? Maybe a movie or somethin'? I know you work alotta nights but I -"
"You want to go out with me?" you asked in disbelief. He looked at you like you had two heads.
"'Course I do. Wasn't it obvious?" he could feel the heat creeping up his neck.
"No! I thought... nevermind, it doesn't matter," you told him, a smile pulling across your lips. "Yes, I would love to. God, if you only knew-" you stopped yourself by slapping your hand over your mouth and he quirked a playful eyebrow at you but he was too excited that you agreed to go out with him to ask you to finish your thought. He handed you his phone as you shakily typed in your number, hoping your trembling fingers didn't mess it up before giving it back to him.
"I'm gonna text you tomorrow, set somethin' up, yeah?" he asked and you nodded numbly, your mind reeling as you tried to process everything that was happening. He grinned and slid his phone back into his pocket. "Have a good night," he said, the familiar phrase making you smile before disappearing into the crowd.
"Um, who the hell was that?" Courtney questioned the second you arrived back at your table.
"I need a fucking shot first and then I'll tell you, holy shit," you said, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves with no success. She laughed and got you each tequila shots, then you spent the rest of the night telling her all about Joel the hot flower guy.
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The next morning, you paid for your crimes. Your head throbbed and your mouth was dry as sand as you stumbled into your bathroom to scoop water from the faucet, desperately trying to quench your thirst. You weren't normally a huge drinker, but after your run-in with Joel, you were so nervous that you found yourself tossing back a few extra drinks than normal. Fortunately, you didn't work until late afternoon, so after you fumbled around your cupboards for some crackers, you fell back into bed. Your eyes widened when you saw a missed text from an unsaved number an hour ago.
Hey, it's Joel. It was great running into you last night. I was thinking we could go to dinner this week, if you're still up for it. What nights are you free?
"Shit," you muttered, running a hand anxiously through your hair. Now that you were sober, the prospect of seeing hot flower guy outside of work made you inexplicably nervous.
You must have typed out and deleted fifteen responses before going with I would love to! I'm free Sunday, Monday and Wednesday nights. Or we could do something after I get out of work, we close at nine.
Did you sound too desperate? You chewed on your fingernail as you read your sent text over and over, then shrugged and put your phone down. Too late now, anyway.
It took a while to get his response, but to be fair, you didn't reply to him for an hour.
I can make Sunday work.
Sunday? As in, tomorrow?
"Oh, fuck," you groaned, fully not expecting him to set something up so quickly. You needed time to mentally prepare, but of course you agreed, then quickly texted Courtney, begging for her help on what to wear and how to do your hair.
Yay!! We can talk about it at work tonight!
After you ironed out a time and restaurant with Joel, you popped two pain relievers and chugged some water, hoping to get rid of your hangover before work.
"Okay, so where's he taking you?" Courtney asked excitedly as you stocked cereal together.
"This Italian place on Westwood. Here, I looked it up," you said, pulling out your phone and showing her the menu. "Have you been there before? What do I wear?"
She squinted at your screen and shook her head. "I haven't been there but we can figure this out. It doesn't look that fancy, but you should probably wear a dress or skirt."
"Ooo, do you finally have yourself a date?" Andy asked from halfway down the aisle, clearly overhearing part of your conversation. "Hot flower guy is going to be so disappointed."
You laughed and pocketed your phone. "It's with hot flower guy," you said triumphantly. Andy's eyes bugged out of his head, confused, until you and Courtney explained what happened the night before when he was busy staring at the bartender.
"You should have told me last night! So I guess that means he really is single."
You paused and cocked your head to the side, realizing all of the sudden you still didn't know why he bought flowers every Friday.
"Uh, yeah, I guess so," you replied, turning your attention back to the cereal. Andy and Courtney exchanged worried glances behind your back.
"I'm sure he's not stupid enough to buy flowers from you for another woman every week and then ask you out," Courtney said, glaring at Andy. He cleared his throat and nodded.
"Y-yeah, I mean, maybe they're for a grave or something."
You both turned to him and gave him an incredulous look.
"Hey, I'm just trying to help," he said, throwing up his hands and walking away. You bit your lip and glanced at Courtney.
"Don't worry about it. There's tons of reasons why guys would buy flowers weekly... maybe he just likes to have fresh flowers in the house. Maybe they're for his mom!"
"Yeah, good point. I bet they're for his mom," you agreed, feeling a little better as you ripped open the next cardboard box full of cereal boxes.
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When you woke on Sunday morning, you were already nervous. You could have sworn your heart was slamming in your chest from the moment you opened your eyes, already overthinking your date with Joel.
You spent the afternoon texting Courtney pictures of outfits you hauled out of your closet and tossed on your bed, then decided you needed to try them on for her to get the full effect. You were sitting on your bed, wearing a light blue sundress, the last outfit you had tried on as you gathered your pictures. Your thumb quickly tapped all of the photos of you modeling your options and typed out what one looks the best? then hit send.
As you were unzipping your dress and sliding it down your legs, you heard your phone ping from your bed. You hung up the dress and pulled your sweats back on before reaching for your phone, hesitating when you saw Joel's name pop up. You felt a pit in your stomach, worried that he came to his senses and was asking to cancel, so you sat down on the bed before sliding your thumb over the screen to open his text.
You look great in everything, but I really like the pink one.
Your palms instantly broke out into a sweat and you felt lightheaded.
"Oh no, oh no, oh no," you mumbled, scrolling up in your text chain before cursing and throwing yourself into your pillows to scream. In your rush to send your text, you accidentally sent the pictures to Joel instead of Courtney. You waited until you got your bearings and tried to convince yourself it wasn't really that bad, that it definitely could have been worse, before replying.
Ha, sorry. I meant to send those to a friend, but if you like the pink one, then I guess that answers my question
You stared down at your phone, anxiously waiting for his answer, which didn't take very long at all.
You could wear a paper sack and you would still look beautiful.
The grin that stretched across your face was massive. He was probably just sweet talking you and trying to make you feel better about making such a stupid mistake, but damn, it worked.
Looking forward to tonight :) you said in response, then bit your lip and flung yourself backwards on your bed. Your eyes drifted to the light pink dress hanging in your closet and you smiled.
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As it turned out, the Italian restaurant was owned by Joel's brother, Tommy. You met the younger man at the host stand when you walked in the door. He had a huge grin plastered across his face and although you were an only child, you could still tell when someone was itching to tease their sibling. Tommy's eyes flickered back and forth between you and Joel, silently communicating with his brother as you introduced yourself. You managed to catch Joel shooting Tommy a warning glare before nervously resting his hand on your lower back and guiding you through the restaurant to an empty booth in the back.
"Have I told you how beautiful you look?" Joel asked, his dark eyes sparkling even under the dim mood lighting. You giggled and shyly looked down at your lap.
"A couple times."
Joel smiled warmly and leaned forward, his eyes trailing over the soft curves of your jaw and the way your plush lips stretched when he made you smile.
Before the food arrived, you learned a little more about him. He worked in construction, doing mostly residential but some commercial property work. He was trying to go into business for himself, which he told you was difficult but he already had years of experience and contacts in the area. He preferred to do most jobs himself or with as little help as possible because he only trusted his own work, but sometimes he did hire Tommy for a job to help his brother earn extra money.
"And in return, he lets me eat here for free," Joel finished, wiping the small smudge of red sauce from the corner of his mouth.
"That sounds like a win-win," you joked, and Joel chuckled.
"Tell me 'bout yourself. You said you been workin' at the store for four years?"
"Yeah," you nodded, pushing your empty plate to the side. "It's just meant to be temporary. I'm going to community college three days a week. Trying to get my degree so I can get a job with normal hours."
Joel hummed and leaned back in the booth. "What'dya wanna do?"
You shrugged. "I'm not sure, really. Hoping I figure that out as I go. I just know being a cashier for the rest of my life isn't for me, you know?"
"Yeah, sure," he agreed. "I could ask 'round if you want. Maybe some place is hirin' a receptionist or somethin'?"
"Oh, it's okay," you waved him off with a smile. "I appreciate it, though."
Afterwards, he took you for ice cream. You sat together outside the ice cream stand on a bench. The temperature outside was perfect and the place was mobbed. Kids ran around playing tag while other families gathered around picnic tables, laughing and telling each other about their days while you tried not to stare at Joel licking his ice cream and fantasizing about what that would look like between your legs.
"I wouldn't've pegged you for a strawberry girl," he said, nodding towards your rapidly melting ice cream.
"It reminds me of when I was a kid. My grandma liked to take me out for ice cream when she babysat me and strawberry was her favorite."
He smiled, listening to you talk about your family, getting a brief glimpse into your life, leaving him wanting more.
You thought everything was going so well. The date went perfectly. There wasn't as much awkwardness as you originally thought there would be and Joel was very easy to talk to. So when he dropped you off at your door and you invited him inside, you were surprised and somewhat hurt when he declined after a quick glance at his watch. He only kissed your cheek before telling you have a good night and backing out of your driveway, leaving you confused and a little self-conscious.
"He's probably just a gentleman," Courtney assured you the following day, "wants to take things slow and all that."
And you agreed. Once you had time to process everything, that seemed like exactly what it was, and you began to feel better.
But then Joel took you on a second date, and then a third, and he still hadn't tried to kiss you or make a move whatsoever.
"Maybe he's just rusty," Courtney offered after the fourth date and still finding yourself being shot down. "He wouldn't keep going out with you if he didn't like you."
Once again, Courtney made sense and you agreed he just liked to take things slower than you were used to.
But on your fifth date, where he took you to a baseball game, you misjudged the size of the beers they sold and you found yourself tipsier than you expected. Joel seemed really into the game but turned his focus on you whenever you searched for it, which, as the night wore on and the alcohol buzzed in your veins, became more and more frequent. You would ask him questions about how the game was played, even though your father watched baseball your whole life, just so you could listen to him talk. You looped your arm through his when the game was over and you both shuffled out of the stadium with a whole herd of drunk fans, back out into the parking lot. You tightly held onto his bicep, the feeling of his muscles under you fingertips more intoxicating than the beer, as he escorted you to his truck.
On the drive back to your place, you could feel your confidence building. Maybe he's just shy and doesn't know how to make a move. Maybe he just needs a clearer sign. Maybe he's waiting for you to make a move.
So, when he walked you to your door and he leaned in to kiss your cheek, you turned your face at the last second and locked your lips with his.
You could feel his surprise when your lips met. He froze and stopped breathing as he tried to figure out what to do, so you decided to make things easier for him and draped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and massaging your lips over his, urging him to reciprocate.
And finally, his hands flew up to your waist and tugged you against him. His mouth began to move and he crowded you up against your door. When your back made contact with the wood and his large palms squeezed gently at your hips, you moaned into his mouth. You had been dying for this for weeks and you would be damned it you were going to let it stop too soon.
Without even asking this time, you reached behind you and fumbled with your doorknob, twisting it blindly without breaking the kiss so you could both stumble inside. He kicked the door shut behind him, tongue licking at the seam of your lips while he brought one of his hands up to cup the back of your head. You granted him access, parting your lips and tangling your tongues together as he continued to walk you backwards. He opened his eyes and glanced around the dark living room quickly before pulling away and whispering one word: bedroom?
The way he said it made your knees weak and your heart flutter excitedly in your chest. You pulled him down for one more kiss before grabbing his hand and practically dragging him down the hall. About halfway to your room, his lips latched onto the crook of your neck and you slowed down, closing your eyes and twisting around in his arms so you could kiss him again. He pinned you against the wall with a groan, his thumb and forefinger clutching your jaw, prying it open so he could devour you. You hooked one leg over his hips and he let go of your jaw so he could grab the backs of your thighs and haul you off the ground.
You tugged at his hair impatiently, then gasped when he ground himself against your core, your body jolting in his arms and knocking a canvas print off the wall.
"Shit," he muttered, barely sparing the picture a glance before peeling you off the wall and carrying you towards your bedroom with your ankles hooked together at his lower back. You giggled against his mouth then squealed when he tossed you onto your bed. His hands glided underneath your dress and up your legs, slipping his fingers around the the waistband of your panties and tugging them down, pausing once he got to your knees. He blinked a few times like he was snapping out of a stupor and glanced up at you.
"Is this okay?"
"God, yes," you said, reaching behind you to tug at your zipper. You tried to shrug off your dress but his lips found yours and you quickly got distracted. You nibbled at his bottom lip while simultaneously tugging at the hem of his shirt, pushing it up over his soft stomach and stopping at his broad shoulders. He broke away just long enough to lean back and toss the shirt over his head and he was back on top of you before you could even drink him in.
You dragged your mouth over his chin, biting and nipping as you went. He groaned as you left open mouthed kisses across his jaw, his prickly beard tickling your tongue. "My dress," you whispered against his cheek before mouthing at the skin there, "take it off."
His palms slid over your shoulders, pushing the straps of your dress down while you wiggled a bit, helping move the fabric down your body. You arched your back so he could pull your dress all the way off, his breath getting caught in this throat when your nipples brushed against his bare chest.
He couldn't resist. When your dress was discarded on the floor, he sat back between your legs to admire your naked body, completely transfixed. Too much time had passed without him saying anything and you grew self-conscious, so you slowly began to cross your arms over your chest, but he stopped you.
"No," he rasped with a shake of his head. "You're so beautiful, just wanna look at you another minute."
Your cheeks flared with heat but you dropped your hands and gazed up at him, watching his eyes flicker excitedly over your body, memorizing every curve and freckle he could find. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a twitch in his pants and you glanced down at the outline of his cock through his jeans. You bit your lip and he followed your gaze, palming his erection briefly before undoing his pants.
"Oh," you whispered to yourself when you saw his cock spring free. He wrapped his hand around his thick shaft and glanced up at you as he crawled back up the mattress on his knees. "You're big," you added, unable to look away. He blushed but didn't reply. Instead, he leaned forward and kissed you, this time slower. You shuddered in anticipation when you felt the tip of his leaking cock brush against your pussy and he froze.
"Shit, wait," he grumbled, sitting back on his heels before reaching for his wallet, which was still stuffed inside his jeans. You figured out the problem and leaned over to your nightstand, fishing around in the drawer until you found a condom and held it out for him. He looked relieved when he saw the little foil square and tossed his wallet back onto the ground before ripping open the condom and rolling it on.
"Sorry. It's... been a while. Wasn't exactly prepared," he explained, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. The endearing confession just made you want him even more.
"It's okay, come here," you murmured, reaching your arms out for him. He grinned and fell down onto his elbows, kissing you slow and deep. When you felt him rest his tip at your entrance, you tensed up.
"Relax," he whispered in your ear. You slid your eyes shut and snaked your arms around his shoulders, gasping sharply when he pressed forward. When he sunk his teeth into your shoulder, your eyes rolled to the back of your head, the pain mixing with the pleasure in a way that made you dizzy.
"Oh, fuck, Joel," you whimpered when he bottomed out, your body stretching around his girth, the sting setting your nerves on fire.
He groaned against your neck and began to rock his hips steadily, making sure to not go too fast. He could tell you were still getting adjusted but it had just been so fucking long and he liked you so much, it was difficult to hold back. He could feel the sweat collecting between his shoulder blades as he focused all his energy on going slow, and when he felt your thighs relax around his waist and your back arch underneath him, he sighed with relief.
"More," you moaned, pressing your body against his, trying to get as close as possible. He growled and dipped his mouth down to capture one of your nipples, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud, releasing it with a wet pop and reveling in the sweet noises you made for him.
He wanted to tell you everything. He wanted to tell you how much he thought about you, how long he wanted to ask you out, how he wanted to know everything about you, how nervous you made him with just a simple glance. But he didn't say any of that. It had been so long since he had gone on a date that he wasn't even sure what women liked anymore. So he remained silent, focusing on not coming too soon while paying close attention to your cues, memorizing what you liked based on the breathy whines in his ear and the way your fingers clutched frantically at his hair. You, however, took his silence to mean he wasn't enjoying himself and you really, really didn't want that, so you pushed gently on his shoulder, drawing his attention.
"Let's switch," you murmured, and he gave you a quizzical look. "Why don't you lay back and let me do some of the work?" you explained, nipping playfully at his jaw.
When his head settled into your pillows, watching with heavy lidded eyes as you straddled him before catching his gaze and slowly sinking down, taking every inch of his cock with a low moan, he thought for sure it would be the death of him. You looked so beautiful all spread out and full of him that he had to squeeze his eyes shut so he wouldn't come just looking at you.
Then you started riding him and his eyes flew open, his chest heaving as he watched your tits bounce and your head tip back in ecstasy and he knew he was done for.
"Wait," he rasped, grabbing your waist and stilling your hips. You stopped, swollen lips parted as you panted for air and looked down at him.
"What's wrong?"
"N-nothin'," he stammered, taking a few deep breaths in before chuckling. "I'm just... I need a minute, is all."
You could see the red beginning to stain his cheeks and the look of embarrassment flicker across his face, melting your heart. Leaning down, you cupped his jaw and kissed him tenderly.
"Is that why you've been so quiet?" you asked softly, leaning back so you could look into his eyes but still holding his cheek in the palm of your hand. He nodded, his fingers gently wrapping around your wrist.
"I'm sorry. I haven't been with anyone in years and I've been tryin' to take things slow with you but I think all the buildup just made it worse." You grinned and took his other hand.
"Don't be sorry. I think it's hot," you whispered, pulling his free hand down between your bodies. He splayed his hand out across your lower abdomen and you took his thumb between your fingers, pulling it down so it made direct contact with your clit. You sucked in a sharp breath when you felt the pressure and a slow smile spread across his face when he realized what you were doing.
"Yeah? Why's it hot?" he asked, drawing slow circles over your clit and watching your jaw fall open and your eyes flutter shut. Both your hands dropped to his chest, holding yourself up.
"Because," you began, then bit your lip and moaned when he picked up the pace. "Because it's l-like you c-can't control yourself. Like y-you need me so badly, you can't hold back." You knew it sounded pathetic but you didn't care. His touch was intoxicating and you needed more.
"I can't," he admitted, his eyes glued to your face, taking pride in how good he made you feel. "I can't control myself. Wanted you for so long. Been thinkin' about this for months."
You gasped and your eyes snapped open, locking onto his. "Me, too. I never thought, shit, never thought you noticed me."
"Are you kiddin' me? I noticed you the first day." Now that the truth was out there, the words wouldn't stop coming. "You were wearin' a yellow shirt and I saw these perfect fuckin' tits when you bent over. Went home that night and-"
He stopped himself, wondering if he was going too far, but you dug your fingers into his chest and urged him to continue, desperately gasping for air as his thumb applied more pressure.
"Say it," you whispered. His cock pulsed angrily inside you, begging for release.
"Went home and fucked my fist thinkin' 'bout you."
You groaned loudly and leaned back, grabbing your breasts and playing with your nipples. "Fuck, I'm close, Joel."
"Yeah? Can you ride me, baby? Wanna come with you," he begged, his voice strained. Immediately, you resumed bouncing on his cock, letting go of your tits so you could brace yourself on his chest once again.
He watched in awe as you gasped and squeezed your eyes shut, stilling for just a moment, pulsing around his length as you came, his name and curses tumbling from your lips.
He couldn't hold back any longer.
He grabbed your hips with both hands and slammed up into you, grunting louder and louder each time. And it didn't take long. You had barely recovered from your own orgasm before he groaned, his eyes trained on where you were connected, thrusting as deep as he could go while his cock throbbed inside you.
"Fuck," he whispered, his head falling back limply onto your pillow. You slumped forward and buried your face against his neck, each of you trying to regulate your breathing.
"That was..." you began, trailing off when you realized your brain was still a pile of mush.
"Better than I ever imagined," Joel finished for you, wrapping his arms around your ribs.
Regrettably, he eventually pulled out, making you both wince. You rolled over onto your back and watched as he made his way to the bathroom to dispose of the condom. If you had any energy left, you might have shot off a quick text to Courtney, but you were barely coherent by the time he slipped back into your bed.
You didn't even need to ask if he was staying the night. He pulled you into his arms, his chest pressed up against your back when you fell asleep, completely at ease.
It could have been the beer or the sex, but you didn't hear his phone go off in the middle of the night. You didn't feel him slip his arm out from under you so he could answer the call in your living room, and you definitely didn't hear him quickly dress and leave.
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It was finally Friday and you were moments away from calling off from work. The thought of facing him again made your stomach roll and your head swim.
You hadn't heard from Joel since he left in the middle of the night after you slept together, days ago. You foolishly texted and called him multiple times, but he never answered. Eventually, you got the message.
Countless hours were spent crying, then more were spent stalking around your place angrily, and a mixture of the two happened at work when either Courtney or Andy asked you about hot flower guy.
They eventually learned not to ask.
As badly as you wanted to call off, you dragged yourself into work. Andy offered to take over the registers so you could hide in the aisles stocking shelves during the hour Joel typically showed up, and you shamefully took him up on it. But when it was close to closing time and you made your way back to the front, Andy shrugged his shoulders.
"He never came."
You had a moment where you worried that something happened to him and you considered texting him just one more time, but when you got into your car that night and opened your text chain to a long list of unanswered texts, you changed your mind.
However, the next morning you awoke to a handful of texts from Joel. At first, your heart raced in your chest, but then your anger crept up and you had half a mind to just delete them. After you had some coffee and a chance to think clearly, your curiosity won and you opened the texts.
I'm so sorry
Something came up
Can you call me back?
Please let me explain
Your fingers hovered over your screen as you debated on what to say. Then you decided to leave the messages unanswered. At least for a little while. If he left you hanging for almost a week, he could wait a few hours, right?
What you didn't expect, however, was for him to show up at the store on a Saturday. He only ever came on Friday evenings. You were cashing out a customer, zoning out a bit, grateful for the distraction. When you reached for the receipt, your eyes locked with his and your pulse began to race. He was holding a bouquet of white roses and looking at you with a guilty expression. Your fingers froze around the paper momentarily until the little old lady in front of him cleared her throat and you blinked, snapping out of it and handing her the receipt with an apologetic smile.
"Hey," he said, but you kept your gaze trained down at the scanner.
"Hi."
Your hands shook as you scanned his flowers, doing your best to get the interaction over with as quickly as possible. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Andy at customer service notice Joel in line, watching from a distance in case you needed rescuing.
"You didn't respond to my texts," he said quietly. You shrugged.
"I've been busy," was all you said, tapping the button on the register for credit.
After he paid, you handed him his receipt and forced yourself to look at him. You could see in his eyes he looked exhausted and run down and despite how upset you were, you felt bad. But you felt even worse after he pocketed the receipt and handed you the flowers.
"They're for you."
"Oh," you said, surprised, as you looked down at the roses. "T-thank you."
Joel looked over his shoulder when a young couple began to unload their groceries on the belt. You panicked, not sure what to do or say, and then you felt a tap on your shoulder.
"Why don't you take your break?" Andy offered, "I'll cover."
You gave him a shaky smile, both of you knowing full well you already had your break. "Yeah, okay." Glancing over at Joel, you tilted your head towards the front door and he nodded.
"I'm so sorry I left without sayin' anythin'," he began when you sat down together on a bench outside the store. "There was an emergency and I had to go."
"You could have texted me or left a note," you said sadly, looking down at the flowers clutched in your hands.
"I know, and I was gonna, but my damn phone died and I was in the hospital for days. I was outta town, couldn't leave, I even wore the same clothes the whole time," he rubbed his face and sighed. "And once we got back home, I wanted to explain in person what happened."
"We?" you questioned. He dropped his chin to his chest and nodded solemnly.
"I have a daughter," he confessed, and your jaw dropped in surprise.
"W-what?" you whispered softly, "why didn't you tell me, Joel?"
His eyebrows pinched together, still avoiding your gaze.
"I don't know. In the past, women haven't exactly been thrilled findin' out I come with baggage and I guess I was bein' selfish." He finally looked up and you could see the pain behind his eyes. "I was tryin' to find the right way to tell you but I was so scared of losin' you."
You shook your head in disbelief. "It doesn't bother me at all that you have a daughter, Joel," you told him, "it bothers me that you lied."
He inched forward on the bench and put his hand on your knee. "I know. I'm so sorry. It was stupid. If you gimme another chance, I promise I'll never lie to you again."
Your chest tightened and you had to look away. He was so sincere, you could feel your resolve crumbling. After a moment, you dragged your eyes back up to him and you could swear he looked like he was on the verge of tears.
"Is she okay?"
He blinked rapidly for a moment, surprised by your question, then nodded.
"Yeah. She's okay now. She had appendicitis. She was with her mom last week. She lives an hour outside Austin and I just went right there from your place. Scared the shit outta me," he finished with a dry chuckle. Then something clicked.
"Your daughter..."
"Sarah."
"Sarah," you repeated. "The flowers you bought every week. Were they for her?"
He smiled shyly and nodded. "Yeah. She gets nervous goin' to her mom's still. The situation is a little rocky so I always get her flowers. Whether she's goin' there or comin' back. They make her smile," he said with a little shrug, and your heart melted.
"That's... that's really sweet," you said, looking down once again at the roses he bought you. He watched you closely for a moment then sat back on the bench, scratching his chin and trying to read your mind. Everything was out in the open now. He should have listened to Tommy and just told you the truth from the first date, but he couldn't remember the last time he ever felt so strongly about someone else before.
Just when he was about to leave, wanting to give you your space to think things over, you spoke again.
"So when are you free next?"
Joel exhaled in relief, then laughed. "Tomorrow?"
You bit your lip and nodded, then leaned forward and cupped his jaw, giving him a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth.
"It's a date," you whispered before standing up. He watched you from the bench as you walked towards the front doors. At the last moment you turned around, the white roses clutched against your chest, and called out, "have a good night."
He grinned.
"Have a good night."
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cherrychilli · 2 months
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18+ Eddie Munson x F! reader, best friend! Eddie, friends to lovers, dry humping, nipple play Summary: Eddie turns up at your house one night and in need of help so you show him how far you're willing to go to help out your closest friend. WC:4K
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For the most part you were indifferent towards Jeff Parker. Neither of you ran in the same circles and he was usually the type to keep his head down but add a little alcohol to the equation and the guy turns into a regular Jay Gatsby — all over indulgent and the life of the party. You just wish that party wasn't taking place 15 feet away from your bedroom window.
It was all the drunken hollering and the thumping music that kept you up that night, bone-tired after pulling double shifts at work. It was the police sirens blaring an hour later that ripped you out of a dream just as you were finally able to doze off with your head buried beneath your pillow. And it was the tapping on your bedroom window that came ten minutes later that made you spring up and nearly shoot out of your own skin.
"Eddie! what the hell?", you whisper shout into the darkness of your bedroom, recognizing his shaggy haired silhouette crouched behind the glass and backlit by nearby streetlamps.
You figured he must have climbed up the lattice to get up onto your roof as he begins to point urgently at the lock on your window, mouthing at you to let him in.
Kicking off your covers, you quickly make your way over to the window and unlock it for him, pulling it open and stepping aside to allow him to barrel roll into your room and heave a heavy sigh of relief.
Sprawled out on your carpeted bedroom floor, Eddie pants the exertion away and you leave him there to rest, connecting the dots yourself.
"I told you to stop dealing at parties", you deadpan, shaking your head in that world weary way you often slip into when it comes to Eddie but all that seems to do is trigger a grin that makes him look suspiciously chipper.
"Got to make a living don't I?", he replies from the floor, his hair all wild and fanned out in an unruly halo of frizz and curls.
It's far too late at night for you to be bothered enough to get into it with Eddie so you simply roll your eyes at him instead, making sure to shut your window to keep the chilly night air from seeping into your warm, cozy room.
The music that'd been playing next door has finally been silenced, you're pleased to notice but as you look out the window you see that the patrol car responsible for making Eddie and several other partygoers disperse and hightail it out of there remains parked in front of Jeff's house.
"I'll make a move once the fuzz's gone. I'm parked a couple blocks away so it should be fine", Eddie explains casually, able to anticipate your concern but you keep your eyes fixed on the car and its flashing lights for a moment longer, chewing on your bottom lip.
The thing was, in a town where almost everyone had it out for your best friend, you weren't too fond of the idea of him driving home at this time of night with his pockets stuffed with illicit party favours. Hell, Eddie often gets pulled over in the middle of the day by asshole officers hoping to book him on a possession charge. And since the trailer park isn't exactly closeby, the likelihood of him running into another cop and getting pulled over seems way too high for your liking.
The thought of it alone makes your stomach plummet. You just didn't want to see your closest friend getting into any kind of trouble. Especially if you could do something to help prevent it.
Turning away from your window, you eye Eddie intently while he glances up at you from where he's still laid out on his back, his breathing even now that he's managed to catch his breath.
"I think you should stay the night. It'll be safer that way", you tell him plainly.
Though most of your room is draped in darkness, Eddie's lit up in a column of orange light that pours in through your window so it's easy for you to make out the way his eyebrows rise up and disappear behind his bangs, his eyes growing wider too as he props himself up on his elbows to look at you.
"Y' sure?", he asks and you can feel him studying your face closely, looking for any signs of doubt or hesitation.
You know he'll find none though. Sure, this is all very spur of the moment stuff but you have no reservations about having Eddie stay over. Exactly the opposite.
"Yeah. But be quiet, okay? My whole family's asleep", you tell him as he begins to pick himself up off the floor, face beaming as he grins at you and steps closer to where you're standing.
"Ya big softie. All worried about me, huh?", he posits, tipping his head to the side in a way that at any other time, you might have considered cute. Right now however, all he's managed to conjure is annoyance given how little sleep you've had tonight.
So you narrow your eyes at him, the rest of your expression flat as he makes the mistake of bringing his face closer to yours, giving you the opportunity to reach out and pinch his earlobe between your thumb and forefinger, twisting the soft skin until his teasing grin deflates and he throws up his hands in surrender.
"Fuck, uncle, uncle!", he calls out while keeping his voice as low as possible, face pinched in pain and looking all kinds of helpless before you decide to let go with a pleased scoff, a small smirk playing on your lips too.
Eddie rubs a hand over his newly freed ear, his gaze wandering away from your eyes, seemingly sizing you up before he takes a step back, no longer within your reach.
"By the way...", he utters cautiously, his gaze returning to your face when another smile curves his lips.
"Nice get up".
Confused, you take a look at yourself, your face turning warm as you tug down on the hem of your oversized t-shirt, hoping in vain that Eddie hadn't caught a glimpse of the panties you've got on underneath when he was down on the floor.
Though he doesn't confirm it, the look on his face says it all — that overly pleased smirk and that telltale glint lighting up his deep brown eyes. It irks you for just a moment before you surrender with a sigh.
"Eddie, I'm too exhausted for this. Please, can we skip the teasing and just go to sleep?"
A look of vague disappointment flashes over Eddie's face when you're able to quickly brush aside your momentary embarrassment, padding over to your side of the bed, no longer concerned with how much of your bare thighs might be on display before you pull back the covers and get in.
"C'mon, get in already", you urge him to join you as you motion to the vacant space on the left side of your bed, fighting off a yawn in the process because your eyelids are starting to feel heavy again.
It's Eddie who looks a little rattled now as he eyes your bed, his fingers fidgeting with the zipper on his jacket with restless uncertainty before he rids himself of it, setting it on your desk chair before he bends down to begin unlacing his shoes in the dark.
You hear him struggle while he's crouched down, whispers of 'shit', 'fuck' and 'god fucking damnit' said loud enough for you to hear while you giggle at him, feeling a bit more at ease now that you're reminded of the kind of dork Eddie is at his core — sharing a bed should be no problem.
You've already turned over, your back to Eddie and your cheek resting on your pillow by the time you feel him slide in under the covers next to you, mattress dipping under his weight.
"I'll take off before your folks get up, I promise", he says to you and you hum back a sleepy 'okay' in reply, nuzzling into your pillow.
With that out of the way and both of you settled in bed, you thought that would be the end of it until next morning but sleep doesn't come as quickly as you would like.
For the next couple of minutes you can feel him readjusting beside you, tossing and turning and you already know why. In the interest of getting back to sleep you interrupt him. "Eds, just take them off already", you mumble over your shoulder at him, causing him to freeze.
"You want me down to my underwear?", he whispers back at you and though your back's still to him you can feel the incredulous expression he's got on his face as his eyes bore into the back of your head.
"It's fine. I'm in mine too", you tell him with a seemingly unbothered huff though if he'd had his palm pressed to your chest and just above your heart he'd know you're nowhere near as calm as you make yourself out to be.
A moment of silence elapses before he finally answers.
"Mkay"
You feel him move around, catching the sound of his zipper being pulled down before he's shucking his tight jeans off, relief apparent in his tone when he settles back in bed now that he's shed the tight denim.
"Night then", he whispers to you as you do your best to stifle the warmth swirling in your belly.
"Night", you answer, eventually drifting off to sleep at last.
~
"Shit shit shit shit shit"
It's the first thing you hear when you begin to wake up, blinking several times to clear your blurry vision before you can take a look at your alarm clock.
6.30AM. The sun's just beginning to rise and you grumble under your breath as you turn over to face Eddie, figuring now's the best time for him to make his way home.
"What the hell?"
You squint at the boy who appears several shades paler than usual, his eyes all large, looking like some kind of cornered animal with a pillow shoved over his lap.
"Um, are you okay?", you sit up in bed, your back against the headboard just like Eddie's.
His eyes dart nervously all over the room, seemingly preferring to focus them anywhere else besides on you and that only leaves you feeling even more confused.
"Okay so- the thing is...I can't exactly leave right now", he mumbles sheepishly to you, the corner of his left eye pinching into a slight twitch.
"Why? are you okay?", you ask, yet to catch on as to what seems to be troubling him.
He looks positively torn with his teeth worrying his bottom lip and a light sweat forming at his temple. "Fuck. Okay. Please don't hate me. It's just that— I have no control over it, okay? it just happens sometimes in the mornings, you know? and- and I...oh god you think I'm some kind of perv don't you?"
You can only blink at Eddie as he brings both hands up to cover his eyes, his neck stretched taught as he leans his head back until it thuds softly against your wall, letting out a defeated sigh.
Looking down at the pillow placed over his lap, you're finally able to guess what the problem is, your belly swirling with a familiar flash of warmth again, same as when you listened to him taking his jeans off last night.
"Oh...well, I don't think you're a perv. It's uh, natural? you can't help it", you tell him as calmly as you can manage, wanting him to feel better by lightening the weight of shame and guilt he's currently shouldering.
Hands still on his face, he parts his fingers enough for him to peek at you from between them. "So you're not mad?", he whispers, watching you closely to gauge your reaction.
You shake your head softly, trying your best not to let your eyes drop back to the pillow in his lap like you might be able to see right through it. You want to see right through it. Badly.
"I'm not mad Eds. I promise".
With another deep sigh, he seems to be more at ease now that he knows that he hasn't upset you, letting his arms flop down at his sides.
"I don't know what to do" he whispers and you can hear how torn he is over the whole situation as you catch the helpless little quaver to his tone.
"What do you usually do?, you ask, your thoughts all frazzled and crowding your head way too quickly than you can manage to comprehend them.
Eddie says nothing, turning to face you with a pointed look, quirking an eyebrow up high at you.
"Right.. dumb question. sorry", you admit.
A few beats of silence commence as both of your minds work, passing over bad idea after bad idea before you turn to back to Eddie again.
"I mean, you could just use my—"
"I can't just jerk off in your bathroom with you sitting here", he stops you quickly and firmly though not unkindly, making you realize that no matter what you try to come up with, he's probably already thought of it first.
"Eddie we have to do something about it", you maintain, sparing a glance at your alarm clock as it reminds you that he's only got a limited amount of time left to leave before he risks getting caught by your family or a neighbor seeing him clamber out your window.
You think about it long and hard, one particular thought echoing louder than the rest in your mind. You try to will it away but it only takes up more space in your head until it's all you can think about, taking in a big breath before you decide to share it with Eddie.
"If you want, I could help you", you tell him, nervously picking at your fingers in your lap.
"...What do you mean?", he asks, looking at you suspiciously.
You shrug. "Y' could grind on me".
There's a pause that seems to drag on much longer than you would have liked, both of you staring into each others eyes, unblinking.
"I can't do that — feels like I'd be taking advantage of you or something", he finally breaks the silence, making you feel somewhat wounded that he'd turned your offer down even though you know he's only trying to be a decent friend. You wish he'd give it a rest.
"Would it help if I took over?", you offer next, steeling yourself in the case of him turning you down once more.
"Sweetheart...please don't tell me you're just fucking with me."
"I'm not I promise", you answer firmly.
"I...are you sure? I mean really 100% sure?", he asks again.
You can't help but roll your eyes at him, slipping your legs out from under the covers to straddle Eddie's thighs all while his jaw falls slack at the sight and feeling of you on top of him, your fingers curling around the pillow still resting on his lap.
"I'm sure. Are you?", you ask him before proceeding though if you were to guess, you could read the answer off his face with ease.
"I...yeah", he squeaks, eyes all big and round like he's in awe of the way you've taken the lead.
"Okay then. Let me get rid of this."
You toss the pillow aside to the spot you'd formerly occupied, gulping down the lump in your throat with some difficulty when you set your eyes on the tent in his striped boxers. The way it strains against his underwear, it's easy to guess he's both thick and lengthy under that thin veil of cotton and the more you look at it the more it feels like the room is starting to tilt and spin.
It's the kind of thing you've thought about in secret a fair amount, you and your best friend doing things that you wouldn't ordinarily do with someone who was just your friend. You pull yourself closer to him, laying your hands on his shoulders as you balance your core over his bulge, carefully lowering yourself until you're pressed up right against his clothed cock. Both of you release a shaky breath at the feeling, him, because you feel so warm and soft and you, because he feels so warm and firm.
"Put your hands on my hips", you tell him next, liking the way his cheeks pink up in response as he places them on you gently, sending a wave of goosebumps all along your body.
You start slow, grinding yourself on the ridge of his cock, unable to help the way your pussy flutters as you drag it up near Eddie's tip and back down close to his balls, working your way up to a simple rhythm.
"How's that? is it good?" you ask, making sure to check in with him.
"Shit yeah that's...that's good. Keep going", Eddie starts to firm up his grasp on you, guiding you, encouraging you to pick up the pace, all the while you try to keep secret the way your stomach tightens up with so much heat, your pussy dripping plenty with slick.
"Eddie..."
"Yeah?"
"What are you thinking about?", you ask him as you notice the the way his brows have begun to knit together, the same way they get when he's concentrating on nailing a solo on stage.
"I don't think I should uh answer that", he answers cautiously, disappointment making your lips push out into a little pout.
"Please. I wanna know", you ask gently, melting his resolve with your pleading eyes
"...M' thinking about your tits", he grits out, looking like he ought to be ashamed about it. You figure you have a way to fix that.
"Do you want to see them? would that um, help?"
Your offer hangs in the air for a few seconds as you finally manage to catch your clit the right way along Eddie's clothed cock, your toes curling while pleasure blooms inside your bones.
You no longer make a strong effort to hide the way that humping his cock is making you feel either, that it's not just him who's getting off here and maybe that's why Eddie manages to convince himself that it's okay to take this next step with you.
"I want to see them — yeah", he manages to croak out, his fingers twitching with so much excitement around your hips. He's thought about it too — the two of you like this. How could he not? when you're the only one who's ever cared. When you look the way you do. When you're soaking through your underwear and his with your nipples already hard as they show through your shirt.
How could he not want you?
With Eddie giving you the green light, you take your hands off of his shoulders and pick up the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and off as you toss it behind you, uncaring of where it might land.
"Oh my god."
To you it might have felt like a quick undressing but for Eddie the world slows down to a crawl. He sees it all; the subtle way your breasts bounce and shift with your movements, the way they slope and rest on your chest, rising and falling with every breath and the way your perky nipples react to the cold air in your room, pebbling before his eyes.
"You can touch them if you want", you notice the way he's looking at them, feeling his cock jump under you.
"Christ, you're trying to kill me", he answers all hoarse.
To you, there's no greater compliment, your smile widening into a grin. Carefully, you guide him this time, prying his hands away from your hips and encourage him to cup his hands over your tits instead, moaning when he begins to press into the soft flesh, squeezing and massaging them.
"That feels good", you whisper, hips still working as you drag your drenched clit along his cock. "God, Eddie I've— I've wanted this for so long", you sigh dreamily, the truth spilling out much faster than you can try to swallow it all back down, all because you're so weak for the way those big, wide cinnamon eyes of his are staring back at you.
Your core's all sticky now, panties practically pasted to your skin in that messy way that usually has you eager to peel them off. Though as much as you'd like for the both of you to rid yourselves of all the tacky cotton between you, to be completely bare with each other, you don't want to mess up the rhythm you've fallen into, your clit pulsing and throbbing as you ride Eddie's lap.
"Honey... are you telling me that we could have been doing this from the start?", he asks, slightly anguished. He continues to gently pulling and pinching at your nipples while he keeps his eyes locked on yours, hushed grunts and groans falling from his parted lips.
Your hips are moving faster now, bed squeaking beneath you both, not that you care about your family hearing it — not right now — not when you're so close.
"I— I guess. Yeah", you gasp out when he pinches your right nipple, his left hand falling back down to your hip to guide you.
"You know how many times I've thought of you like this? how many times I've had to picture you on top of me just to get me through the day?, he asks, pulling and pushing you along his length with fervor.
"Why didn't you say anything?", you whine back.
"C'mon. We both kno— know you can do better than—"
Despite almost reaching the peak of your climbing orgasm, you dig your nails into the hand Eddie's got fixed on your hip, forcing your knees into your mattress to bring you both to a halt.
"Don't ever say that. Don't ever say that because it's not true", you place your hands on his cheeks, caressing his face gently. "I only kept my mouth shut incase you didn't feel the same about me...I didn't want to spoil what we already had. I couldn't stand it if you didn't want to be friends anymore..."
"Baby—", it's his turn to cradle your face, thumb making gentle circles on your cheek. "You could never lose me", he tells you, soft but firm and then you feel a pull and you suppose he must feel it too because you're both leaning in, faces closer than they've ever been before, lips grazing each other before you're sharing a kiss with your best friend for the very first time
It's gentle at first, both of your fingers weaving into each others' hair, a soft nip here and there before growing more hungry when Eddie's tongue meets yours. Both of you moan and whimper into each other's mouths, sloppy and messy, your heartbeats turning rapid when you eventually have to break for air, Eddie in need of the same when your lips part with a sticky click and he leans back to rest against the headboard again, panting. Any longer and he'd have cum from the kiss alone.
You catch your breath first, the corner of your mouth picking up into a lopsided smile. "Now are we going to make up for lost time or what?", you challenge him, both of you beaming with bright eyes and brighter smiles.
You pick up where you'd both left off, your hands on Eddie's shoulders and him, one hand on your hip, the other on your right breast, squeezing your soft skin, flicking your nipple because it makes you gasp and he loves hearing the sound of it.
"Please tell me you're close" Eddie grunts, sure to leave marks behind on your hip in the shape of his fingers. You were looking forward to admiring them in the mirror later.
"G-getting there. Wanna go faster— is that okay?", you make sure to ask, his answer coming through when his left hand slips down to find space on your other hip, pulling and pushing you along his length quick enough to make you squirm on his lap as your clit drags on him just right.
"Eddie— feels perfect...I think I'm gonna-"
"Please—" he cuts you off quickly with a ragged huff, his eyes wandering away from the wet, sticky stains that'd developed on both your underwear and his, pausing on the way your breast bounce and jiggle before fixing on your your eyes. "Please cum. I wanna watch you."
Your body begins to move on instinct as it chases your climax, eager to reach it this time than let it slip through your fingers twice. You're closer than before because it feels even better when you begin to lean back, your hands coming to rest on Eddie's thighs behind you. Your chest puffs out while you start to bounce yourself on Eddie's clothed cock, your puffy clit grazing against the stiff underside of his shaft, dragging dragging dragging until your eyes squeeze shut and it happens. The force of it wracks your body, overcome as your whole body quivers, and shakes, your pelvis twitching and jerking — and Eddie watches it all closely and unblinking.
In all his years of settling for quick glances and sly peeks at your body like those times your cleavage showed above your neckline or your bare legs and thighs were displayed whenever the weather called for a pair or shorts or a skirt, Eddie's never seen a more beautiful sight than the one he's taking in now — The way a light sheen glistens on your face, neck and chest, your swollen lips parting, releasing whimper after moan, your hair a little wild and beautiful and your panties drenched and ruined.
Eddie reaches out and brings you close, wrapping his arms around you as your chests meet and you fold into him, burying your face in his neck, whimpering and whining as your clit aches with oversensitivity though not enough to ask him to stop.
He's close by the sound and feel of it, so you grit your teeth and let him buck up against your poor soaked cunt, over and over as you drink in every grunt and groan. You want him to feel good too, unable to resist helping him tip over the edge. You let your tongue slip out from between your lips, licking the salt by his pulse point and letting out a little whisper to unravel him completely.
"Go on, cum for me, Eddie."
A guttural groan rumbles out of his throat just seconds later. it's instantaneous the way pleasure flares white hot at the pit of his stomach, shooting all the way up and raining down on the rest of his body like fireworks.
Though you're yet to feel Eddie inside you, yet to have your walls stretch to accommodate his shape and length so that you don't miss every little jerk, twitch and throb before he spills hot into you, you're still able to feel the effect of Eddie's orgasm. His body shudders and twitches underneath your weight, your pussy feeling warmer and wetter where just under it, Eddie's cum spurts rope after messy rope into his underwear, the cotton becoming saturated with his spend and transferring to your panties.
In the moments following your intense mutual pleasure, the both of you remain entangled in each others arms, sitting in the damp mess you've made of yourselves while you fight to catch your breath. It's Eddie who manages to break the silence first.
"...Do I have to go?, he whispers to you, one warm hand stroking your back gently.
"Do you want to go?, you ask softly against his neck, nuzzling against his skin.
"Not if I can stay and be with you"
You smile hard, chuckling against his skin. "Then stay. I want you to stay too. Y' can hide out in here"
"Yeah? I'm your little secret, huh?", he teases, his lips kissing your temple
"Only for today", you reply.
"Oh?"
You gently unstick yourself from Eddie so you can look him in the eyes, brushing his sweaty bangs away from his bright eyes before you cradle his cheek with one hand.
"Tomorrow I'm telling everyone we know that you're mine"
2K notes · View notes
hanasnx · 7 months
Text
MINORS DNI 18+
! ── BABY DADDY!JASON TODD who can't come around more than once or twice a year. His way of life isn't sustainable for a home, and it certainly isn't safe for a daughter. You and him decided it was best to part ways before that positive pregnancy test, and since he discovered a kid he helped make it didn't change his level of involvement. He's got a lot of eyes on him, and he can't draw attention to anything important to him.
! ── Your daughter adores him. She squeals with delight every time he visits, running full barrel towards him so he can scoop her up. Unbeknownst to her your concern with how he found you again, and how he broke in to the apartment. Apparently running and hiding is not enough when you face the Red Hood. You reluctantly greet him with a half-assed kiss on the cheek, wrapping your arm around his neck to incline him towards you. Your daughter on his hip takes full advantage of hugging you both at the same time, and pressed against your former lover makes you tight-lipped.
! ── He's dangerous for a number of reasons that span beyond what any angry enemy of his would do if they found out where he's been going. You're most afraid of what he's able to make you do the longer you're with him. Only able to hold onto your anger for so long until he melts that cold exterior and somehow convinces you to let him warm your bed again.
! ── He's got it down to a science. As soon as you give him that scathing look, he tells your daughter to run along because "Mommy and Daddy have to talk." while she thoughtfully strokes his chin with her little hand, only to nod with an audible sigh, shaking out her wild hair she won't let you brush. With a little push to her back, she scampers off to her room and he stands to his full height. "I just wanted to see her." he tells you, with that pleading tone you've fallen for countlessly because he knows you're going to say: "It's not safe." for the thousandth time.
! ── He'll tower over you, incline towards you while you scold him under your breath. A hushed argument ensues that your daughter tries to listen in on, and can only hear bits and pieces about how she's not owned, and her dad should get to see her. Stuff she doesn't understand, especially because she can't understand his lack of presence being such a complicated thing when she has no sense of object permanence. If a dad refuses to be there more, it's a problem. You want to cut Jason out completely. That's not fair, as he'll tell you, to the daughter you get to keep.
! ── It's in the way he stands next to you. He's so much taller than you, broader, and muscled. He bulks up more and more every time you see him. He doesn't use his size to intimidate you, rather takes advantage of something else. Big hands stuffed in his back pockets make his leather jacket sit on his wide shoulders exquisitely. His hair is windblown from his motorbike and just the smell of him has a dangerous Pavlov effect on you. Like your eyes want to flutter as they roll into the back of your head and lightning shoots straight down to your core, stinging at the memory of what it's like to be filled by him. The longer you're with him, the thinner your resolve becomes. It evaporates in front of you as he sweeps a hand through his hair, and his posture slacks. "C'mon." he drags out the word playfully, advancing on you. Your hand interrupts him, bracing on his firm chest to keep him from coming closer. "Can't we talk about something else? You're getting me all worked up. Missed you."
You roll your jaw, that resolve slipping. Addicted to him, you're reticent as his tongue darts out to wet his lips while he's eyeing yours. "Jay..." you murmur, and he can hear the defeat in your voice.
! ── "Lucky we got a sitter, huh?" Jason's smug voice cuts through the wet sounds of sex that fills the room. "Now I get some time with my other little girl." That sick delight causes you to reach back, weakly banging your fist against his thigh. He snickers, wolfish and husky resounding from the back of his throat. "Mommy's been missing me, huh? Can feel her clenching down on me like a fuckin' vice."
His thick cock hurts stretching you out, but you needed that pain. There's something about Jason that keeps you saying yes, and it pushed through your requirement of foreplay, unbuckling that belt in haste, comfort be damned you wanted that dick. You're on all fours and he's giving it to you from the back, just how you like it, fucking you like a dog while his hand tangles all up in your hair. He yanks you back by it, and you can't even think of what to say other than mindless pleasured babbles.
"You let me do this every time I come over. Seems like you fuck with me or something." It's true, regardless of the cruel insults you've thrown at him to get him to stay away from you, it's all because you can't say no to him. It's the reason you got pregnant, it's the reason you can't run away far enough, and it's the reason you fuck him every time he comes to visit the kid he helped make.
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